#but I spent many hours on this and it was soooo fun

[duckchaw]

Omg... whaat! Someone made a niko dress up picrew??? That's sooo crazy everyone should totally play it....

[multifariousmediums]

Closeups and process video under the cut!

[Video: Timelapse of the piece, starting with a rough sketch, then a m more detailed one. Clothes are added on in a third layer, and then the piece is lined and colored in. End description.]

[toobusybeingdelulu]

random billy interactions with other characters that I would have absolutely sold my left kidney for:

billy & robin —> the only reason they did not interact was because Steve would have thrown himself under a bus after an hour spent in their combined presence (they would have 100% ganged up on him)

billy & nancy —> it’s not a super popular duo and it makes me so sad because I could totally see them being academic rivals. and the fun thing is that Nancy could never that coming in a MILLION YEARS, but then during a class the teacher asks a question to hargrove thinking he was distracted and guess what!! most eloquent speech that class had heard in ages (except for when Nancy was the one to make them ofc). She is furious and a bit thrilled at the prospect of having met someone with the brains to match her in class (but she would NEVER in a million years tell him that, because he is still an asshole, of course)

billy & will —> the Williams 😔 they would have bonded so much over the many traumas they had in common:

• abusive dads

• a crush for an oblivious idiot (which they think it’s unrequited)

• possessed by the mind flayer

• cursed with being the ones who attracted the most number of girls in the show

billy & joyce —> listen, THAT’S HIS MOTHER !! I won’t take any criticism

billy & johnatan —> and that’s his brother. with whom he would have 100% argued with over music tho.

billy & lucas —> a storyline about understanding and change of perspective with them would have been soooo important in order to show the audience that you are not forced to believe the prejudices you grew up with for the rest of your life, and that the world out there is so much bigger and different than the one your family taught you about. also billy could have 100% been lucas’ basketball coach during the period of time leading to season 4, as an offer of peace after apologizing.

billy & hopper —> billy would have reminded hopper too much of himself, and hopper would have reminded billy too much of his dad. Not because he was like Neil, but the association would have been inevitable at first. I don’t exactly know how their relationship would have worked out in canon, but it certainly would have taken them a looooot of time to even stand being in the same room together, let alone to start learning more about each other.

[alienssstufff]

i spent like 2 hours going thru ur lovely amazing apocalypse au instead of doing my homework. soooo freakinh worth it. also what if i cried over ur impdubs and ethubs for ever. for fun. thank u for being an artist

wwww I’m glad ppl read it I never expected this many ppl would 😭

And bwaaa I miss impdubs and ethubs and I miss drawing and reading abt them but I am freeee

[neetily]

hi neet! i’d love to see how you would write a sam/seb/fem!farmer kidnapping story 🫶🏼 she just kept leading them on, y’know? she was just asking for it!

love a good sambastian duo x

warning: kidnapping, noncon/rape, creampie, restraints, gag wc: 2,617

Never in the many dreams he's spent restless nights alone with only the thought of you to keep him company did he ever imagine that you'd look so nice draped in silver.

It's chunky. Maybe a little too big for your size, but pretty nonetheless, he assures you! Shining nicely under the dull light of Sebastians basement bedroom, and the glittering that sparkles under your soft squirming around pairs nicely with the attire he found you in tonight— that being of your barely there to begin with pyjamas. Short shorts and simple top, breezy in the mooonlight, an invitation, right?

The frantic clink! of the chains wrapped around, well... Pretty much every part that they can wrap around—your neck, your ankles, your wrists—the sound of your squirming gets him excited. Makes him feel powerful, a sickening joy settling thickly in his stomach at the sight of your new jewellery. And the desperate pleas spoken in metal drags him out of his self indulgent thoughts to instead bear witness to how well you wear fear as Sebastian tugs playfully at those very same shorts.

It's a pity Sam can't hear your likely pretty begging and whining behind the makeshift gag adorning you. Can't listen to how nicely you'd sob stop. Can't have you asking for help, can he?

"You should go first," Sebastian mutters, though Sam can quite clearly hear the smirk in his words. Like an excited child, the act of peeling your shorts and panties from your goose bumped skin looks similar to a child opening their Christmas presents. "You put in most of the work securing her, it's only fair."

They'd spoken about who should go first countless times, y'know. Because you're so special to them, even if they talk about you like you're not even there. A mere object, right? Spent hours mulling it over to be honest, going back and forth on several different points. Like who loves you more. Or who's wanted you for longer. Or, more immaturely, who's older. And though Sam is more than happy to be the first to touch you tonight, already hard before getting a mere glimpse of your puffy pretty pussy, he figures he's got a better idea for how tonight should pan out.

You can thank the expression of dread you greet him with for that— it's soooo cute. Turns him on so much, y'know...

And it's not his fault that he finds you attractive, right? You should feel happy, thankful, that his cock is rock hard and pointing directly towards you right now. He just wants to keep you looking so pretty. Fuckin' hot when you stare up at him with those big doe eyes, body trembling under his watchful eye, begging without having the words for it. You should keep looking at him like that— it only turns him on further.

And that's the sole reason for his change of plans. To keep you scared. Keep you soft and pliable and fucking scared.

"Nah," he sighs, almost idly if not for the way his hooded lids remain trained on you. "We should go together I think. Have fun at the same time."

"Y'don't gotta tell me twice." Sebastian hums back at him, taking advantage of your captivity by digging his nails into your flimsy pyjama top, and tearing it right down the middle. Sam would like to say that they'll get you a new one, but after a sharp suck of air at the sight of your exposed chest, he's not so sure about that.

The panicked, though muffled behind the poor gag, sob you let out only earns some barked laughter from Sam, who kindly explains the situation you've now found yourself in.

"Couldn't rightly take it off nicely, could we? Not with those chains in the way..." He pouts, adopting a tone one would when telling off a child. Complete with a waggle of his finger. Like he's toying with you. Like he's having fun tormenting you. "S'the only way to do it m'afraid."

"It's okay," Sebastian quickly reassures you, though Sam is just as quick to pick up on the true mocking tone underlying his gentle petting over your now exposed tummy, and the slight tut to his words from looking down at you. "We can play nice from now on. Promise."

Maybe you can, Sam thinks to himself. But he, on the other hand, is practically ready to burst from the sight of your heaving chest, quick fast paced breaths that give your true feelings of terror away from just a quick glance. The shaky closing of your legs as if doing so would somehow keep your dignity intact. And it's exciting, like hunter and prey. Except he's already captured you, and he intends on enjoying his reward to the fullest extent— starting with drooling over your pretty tits.

So cute, especially with your laboured breathing. Bouncing a little with your fear, and oh, so, kissable. A shared thought, no doubt, given how Sebastian seems to immediately latch onto a nipple. Eager to show you his held back affections— though perhaps a little too eager, shown in the way your back arches in an attempt to get away from his sharp teeth and rough claws that paw and pad at your unattended tit.

Well, Sam thinks. Time for his reward.

You've got no idea just how long he's been waiting for this, really. Him and Seb, plotting together like two thieves in the night, intent on stealing you away. And more importantly, your innocence. Your sense of safety, turning you into nothing but an object for them to love— which is what you are, right? A pretty little thing, writhing under Sebastians lewd touch, wide eyes begging for Sam to do something, literally anything to help.

You're lucky that he loves you so much, because he knows just the thing to help.

The floor isn't the place you deserve to be fucked, but it'll have to do for tonight. You'll learn to love it regardless, maybe even gain enough courage to ask for better treatment eventually. But he doesn't mind helping you along that way in the meantime, ignoring the way tears well in your eyes at the sight of him unzipping and pulling his pants down, because if he stares for too long at your spilling tears then he's sure to bust a load before even getting the chance to prove himself to you. Tugging his pants and boxers down just enough to have his cock spring free, the tip slapping back against his toned tummy with a soft thud, leaving behind a string of precum as another beads to the surface.

"Leave some for me." Sam laughs at Sebastian, though he nonetheless bites down on his bottom lip as he catches sight of the way Seb palms at his fat bulge hidden under his tight pants, getting off merely to pleasing you.

Sam understands. Intrinsically. Intuitively. They're the same. And by that, he means greedy, perverted to the bone.

And he's got one just for you, baby. Rock hard and throbbing at the sight of your tear stained cheeks, bobbing along with his movements as he crawls closer towards you, hovering right above your puffy cunt as Seb makes room for him with a pop! off of your pretty nipple.

All it takes is a look. A shared delusion, spurred on by how desperately you attempt to escape your chains. Which, of course, you know is impossible. So the only other reasonable explanation for your squirming must be that you're aiming to turn them on more, right? Looking to rile them up, of which you're doing so so expertly, prompting Sam into sighing with horny frustration as he lines himself up to your wanting hole, tugging your legs open further far too roughly if your high pitched squeal is anything to go by.

"Keep cryin'," he huffs, clearly excited by the broken sounds he rips out of you. "Yer only gittin' me harder, baby..."

With the faux pout of his words, he hopes to communicate just how much he adores your sweet sobs. Especially as he rubs the tip of his leaking tip up and down your sopping slit— your body gives you away, poor thing... All that teasing Sebastian was doing must have prepared you well, huh?

"C'mon," Sebastian goads him, rushed breaths and all. "Take it, take her, she's practically beggin' fr'it."

Sam always knows when Sebastian is really into it, the slur of his accent showing is tell tale enough. As if the hidden bulge his friend sports isn't evidence enough.

But it's with this prompting, the enticing offer to give you exactly what you're wanting, that he finally gives in to his selfish desires. The ones he's been holding close to his heart, and even closer to his cock, pretty much since you moved into the valley. Sebastian too, he's sure. And he did want to fuck you as a duo, but you've got him feeling so selfish baby... Cause it's his cock that he wags against your hole, teasing your entrance with rushed breaths and cocky tuts. It's his cock that he dips the tip into your wet little hole, his hips instinctively bucking at the immediate warm heat that envelops him. It's his hips that push deeper, further into your little sopping slit with tense huffs and sighs. Tense arms too that hold him upright, lest he falls right on top of you as a full body shudder runs through him at just how tight and perfect you feel.

He immediately wants to fuck his shape into you.

And he barely gives you enough time to grow accustomed to the sudden intrusion before he's already fucking it in and out of you— fully intending on a slow pace to help ease you into it, but the way your hole so eagerly squeezes around his fat cock upon burying himself balls deep has him weak in the knees, makes his hips buck at a too fast pace for him to settle into, in spite of your whining. Perhaps because if your whining, if he's being more honest with himself.

"Oh, fuck—" he shivers above you, doing his best to take in the sight of your scrunched up face— pain or pleasure, he's not sure. And he doesn't really care either, to be honest. "Tight— tightest fuckin' hole, God—" his tone is pitchy himself, whines out from his closing throat as he endures the nice suck of your hole, plapping against you as his balls smack back against your ass with every greedy thrust.

"She good?" Sebastian asks, as if it's not fucking obvious. But Sam is too busy rutting away inside of your pretty captured pussy to do anything but dumbly answer back with a quick yeah, yeah, yeah. Mind numb thanks to how well you take his cock, hynoptised by the sight of your pretty tits bouncing in time with his fucks. You're perfect, you're perfect, you're so fucking perfect— Like you were made to take his cock, confirming that he and Sebastian made the right choice in stealing you away tonight.

And other nights, because is he fuck letting this tight cunt go any time soon. And once Sebastian has his turn, he's certain that he'll agree with this assertion. If he ever gets a shot of you that is, because shit, if you aren't half convincing him to keep you all to himself tonight.

Little cunt sucking him off so well, yeah? Tight with fear, squeezing his fat cock just right, good enough to leave him gasping for air above you. A little drooly too, salivating over the sight of you trying your hardest to play hard to get. With eyes tightly squeezed shut every time he buries himself balls deep into you, bullying his tip against your squishy walls like they were his to own. And at least for tonight, for right now, they are. How could you not be? Given the way you dribble saliva for Seb to lick up too, spotted from a mile away under the dim shine from the failing cieling light, a sudden jolt of pleasure coiling in his tummy when Sebastian takes to slobbering all over your face in response. Kisses, maybe, but it looks more like he's trying to eat you alive. Leave his mark on your somehow, somewhere, with fat drops of tears only adding to his friends salty pleasure.

"Don't— haah," God, the sound of your squelching cunt leaves him more than a little breathless, the muted whines and cries you crack out are so cute too, like you're struggling to breathe. You'd look even cuter actually choking, he bets. "Don't hear y'askin' for us t'stop, huh?" He mocks you from above, matching his harsh words with even meaner thrusts, inevitably fucking you up the cold hard wood floorboards from how greedy he is to feel good.

"S'right..." Sebastian coos against your sticky cheek, though nonetheless eyes up your sticky cunt too. Coated in Sam's precum, your own slick just gushing out of you with every fuck to give away how you truly feel about their assault tonight. Drooling all over his cock, yeah? Mindlessly babbling and sobbing to yourself as if that isn't the hottest thing either of them have ever fucking seen. "Almost as if... You want this, right? Want us t'be a little rougher, baby? D'ya like it when Sammy fucks you? Feels good, huh? Bet you—"

It doesn't matter what Sebastian is yapping about, because Sam catches you feebly trying to shake your head no, God, no, and he can feel himself grow infinitely closer to the sight alone. Nevermind the fact that Sebastian is knowingly turning Sam on just as much as he's attempting to make you wetter, and it's fucking working. The thought of filling you up faster, harder, humping your tight little hole silly all night long, until he's nothing but a mess of fluids and you're left dumb on the end of his cock, the thought of it all has his balls tight and his tummy flipping. Filling with butterflies of desire as he pounds your shape into the floorboards below with so much speed and force that he can barely keep up with himse. He's never been the best at holding himself back... Or accountable, really.

Which is why he makes no effort in pulling out of your perfect little angel cunt as soon as he feels himself tipping over the edge. Nor does he warn you, really, save for a slight stutter in his imprecise thrusts as he seeks only his own end for now.

There's plenty time to look after you later, right?

A brief fuck escapes him as thick ropes of sticky seed paint your insides white, tacky and fucked in and out of you with lazy thrusts as he milks himself fully into your pretty pussy— and the way you continue to squeeze around him? God, he never wants to leave. Making sure to push his hips flush against your ass and thighs as if attempting to plug your hole full of his cum, better not let any of it go to waste! Or he might just need to fuck another load into you, yeah?

And he's barely got time to catch his breath from abusing you before Sebastian is tugging him off and out, a silly whine escaping Sam at the loss of heat and tightness as his cock pops! out of you.

"S'my turn," Sebastian slurs with as much restraint as his sly smirk gives away. "The look on your face, Sam— gotta feel her fr'myself."

Whether you like it or not.

[thefudge]

haven’t watched s4 of the umbrella academy but i know five and lila kissing there omg if only every tv show and book have listened to our weird ships…

okay so i spent the last few hours speed-running through this season and OH MY GOD not only did they pay attention to our weird ship, but it's like INCREDIBLE levels of fanfic!!! like, the YEARNING alone??? like, okay, the writers did the "stuck in a time bubble together" bonding/romance storyline, but what i loved about it is they planted the seeds early in the season with lila not only feeling stuck in her marriage but sneaking out and running into five and having fun with him sleuthing just like in past seasons!!! like, it's not just "we're only now seeing each other's potential because we're stuck in the subway" it's more like "we've always been kindred spirits and now we have some down time to really let that sink in". it feels like the culmination of their evolution from enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers??? like all that friction from past seasons finally coming to fruition. hell, at one point five even straight up tells her diego can't give her what she needs??? like, they're admitting they're happier together and fit better together, in and outside of the time loop!!! and i love love LOVE the writers for not doing the super tired switcheroo where, once lila returns to diego and her family she suddenly realizes the whole thing with five was a fever dream. NO!!! no no no, all the feelings are still there like AAAAH it's such good angst, because she keeps exchanging loaded and uncomfortable glances with five while diego is trying to hold her/kiss her??? and five looks SO upset??? it's ao3 levels of delicious drama!!!! diego even asks her if she loves five and she CANNOT deny it, and her whole family and kids are right there but!!!! they still have these feelings and i love how shameless the show is about it!!! one of the big subplots of the final episode is lila having to give up her family to sacrifice herself, but it's also framed as her choosing five and just sort of collapsing in his arms telling him she hates him for this??? and he says "i know"??? HELLO??? also just the yearning and pining even mid-apocalypse!!!! five can't focus on anything else except her, literally they're all about to die but their lil drama is still going on!!!! (complete with diego and five punching each other and rolling on the floor fighting over lila!!!!) it's SO good. also props to the five actor for truly LOCKING IN and just leaning so much into the yearning. every second he looks at lila it's like she hung the moon and he is dying to be with her. i JUSTTTTTTT and the fact that lila hates bracelets and she didn't wear the one diego got her for valentine's, but she wears five's???? and loves it??? and he made it out of all the scrap metal for her???? soooo many little moments like that!!! when he says "i aim to please" kneeling in front of her????? when he says "you know why" when she asks him why he kept the notebook with the escape plan from her!!!!! he just wanted to be with her forever in the greenhouse timeline GAAAAAH. like, this is now gonna be my standard for "non-canonical ships that didn't seem like they could ever have a chance but became canon anyway"!!! cuz usually we clock the chemistry and the banter and the connection but we have to make do with our lil AUs because we know the writers wouldn't dare. but they did!!! they did it this time!!! GOD BLESS i feel so validated in this chili's tonight!!!

[masterserris]

Submas Fic: “We Will Meet Again” CH.5

My friend @eusouomar (Ingo) and I (Emmet) have been working together on an rp timeline!

This timeline is based on the concepts of Yin (Ingo) and Yang (Emmet) reincarnating through the ages, much to the surprise of the twins, and how to move forward knowing this and getting their lives back to normal after bringing Ingo home from Hisui. Shenanigans and fluff and angst ensue. Let it be known a happy ending is always the goal and the inevitable future. Enjoy!

Notes: NO SHIPPING in this fic.

General Warnings for the fic as a whole: strong language, depictions of mental illness, addiction, grief, violence/gore, character death, self harm, suicide mentions

MASTERPOST (TBD)

START

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Happy Birthday!

Featuring art from @metrobound / @jugumpuppet !

Enjoy!

"Hmm, it's my birthday today." Ingo mused. He was doing training on another line with a depot agent. 

"Aw, happy birthday Boss! You two gonna do something special?" She asked.

 Ingo's heart nearly dropped in his chest. He had been in Hisui for nearly 30 years and had gotten used to spending it as a solitary person.

 "You okay, Black Boss?" The depot agent asked. 

"We. We have a birthday!" He pointed out. 

"Um, yeah. That's generally how twins work." She replied. 

"But I haven't gotten him anything! I've spent so much time in the past I forgot to buy Emmet a present!"

 "Oh is that all?" She laughed, "I know what you can get him." 

"Really? What?"

 "You of course!" 

Ingo frowned, "I am not a proper present." 

"Boss, I bet you $1,000 pokedollars that White Boss has wished for you for his birthday for the last five years."

Well, she was right of course. That much was verrrrrrry obvious. But it was a special day! Finally! He was back! Thankfully Ingo was on another train so Emmet could ditch out and get some things together. Ohhhh, it was hard planning something from your other half in secret, but it was so so sooo much fun! Decorations, hmm, food, yes. Presents? I had a few ideas. He giggled to himself at one of the ideas. Oh, the machinations of his mind were an enigma to be certain.

"I have to get him something." Ingo insisted. 

"WAiit. Wait. No. No, last time you left bad things happened." The depot agent pulled on his arm.

"I am in full control of my portals this time and I still have to get Emmet a present. I'd be a horrible brother if I didn't." He began to pull on his arms back.

"Let one of us get it. Just, stay here. We'll get a present, get it wrapped." She said.

Ingo shifted weight, "You can get him something tasteful?"

"Absolutely. It will be a hundred percent classy."

Ingo sighed and handed her quite a bit of money, "I expect change."

Silly Ingo. Well, Emmet had many surprises in store for Ingo later. It actually took a few hours to get everything and that was with him preordering and dashing around like a lunatic. But all the prep was done. He slipped back into Gear Station with less than an hour to spare before Ingo would get off of his training shift, so nothing looked too suspicious. 

"Here it is! Even wrapped as promised!" She presented it to Ingo.

"What is it?" Ingo asked, looking at the long rectangular box. It was wrapped in white wrapping paper with a black bow on it. The depot agent, who was only 5'1" had to get up on her tiptoes to whisper it to him, "Oh! That is very thoughtful. Thank you." Ingo nodded. She gave Ingo his left-over money.

"Try to have fun, Boss!" She waved when they parted ways in Gear Station. It left Ingo confused. He was having fun. Couldn't they tell? Shrugging he headed back to the office he and Emmet shared.

“Soooo, how’d it go today?” Emmet asked cheerfully, leaning back in his chair. “You know what today is, right?” 

"It went very well. It's coming back to me quickly now." Ingo nodded, "As a matter fact I do. Happy Birthday, Emmet." He presented the gift to his younger twin.

Emmet looked a little shocked, but smiled. “So you do remember!” He cheered. He looked at the gift and took it gratefully. “Thank you, Ingo. But you are already my gift. Your gift, however, is at home. Or should I say gifts?” 

It was a leftover from Hisui when they had so little that made Ingo blush at the fact that Emmet had given him gifts. Plural. "Oh, no. You don't have to get me anything." He told him, waving his hands.

“Bullshit, it’s been five years, that means five times the gifts. Now let’s go home!” He threw his coat back on and ruffled Ingo’s hair and hat playfully. “This isn’t optional.” 

He seemed to like ruffling his hair. Ingo returned the favor ruffling Emmet's hair and hat back.

"Birthdays were very simple in Hisui. Usually just a special meal with friends, maybe a gift of a tool or something useful. It wasn't like it is today."

“So? And?? Your point is?” Back at their condo when Emmet opened the door Ingo saw the whole place decorated. It was like a surprise party! On the table was a cake made at the best bakery in town with them and all of their Pokémon decorating it. Angel and devil food cake, of course with strawberry filling. But more than that. There were at least a dozen gift wrapped boxes all from Emmet addressed to Ingo. “Surprise!” He grinned. But that wasn’t all. Not yet at least. 

"I was just trying to make conversation and point out-" Ingo wasn't physically expressive so that should emphasize how surprised he was when his mouth dropped at seeing Emmet go all out. Most of this would've been beyond the dreams of most of the Pearl Clan. Maybe in the cities or the ultra-wealthy but none of this food had anything to do with survival. It was completely decadent and so touching. Holy shit there was more?

Emmet took Ingo’s hand and pulled him to the fire escape and onto the roof where everyone was waiting. Elesa, Drayden, some older depot agents, Drayton. It had been sooo sooo long since their last double birthday. Emmet had one last special present in a plain box. “Go on, open it.” Inside was an authentic Hisuian flute. “I found yours. It’s yours. From 200 years ago.” Sure enough, it had his initials carved on the back of it. The same flute he used to call Lady Sneasler that Irida had given him. 

Ingo clenched his brother's hand and followed him up onto the roof. What in the world-?

It seemed Emmet had managed to get everyone who was close to them. How long had it been? Well, it depended on who you asked. For Emmet it had been five years, for Ingo about thirty. He had almost forgotten what this felt like. Then Emmet gave him a plain box. Ingo's eyes widened as he saw the flute. No, there was no mistaking it, this was his flute. He knew every notch in it.

"How on Earth did you find this?" He asked Emmet. Even if his flute had survived, which it did, to the modern age Ingo would've sworn it would be in a museum. As for Emmet's gift that Ingo had gotten him, it contained a silver pocket watch. Part of the lid was concave so that Emmet could keep a photo in there if he wanted.

Emmet didn’t open his gift yet because he wasn’t done.

“One last gift,” he smiled. Palkia and Dialga peeled open a portal to the past. To see his old friends again one more time. So they knew he was okay. Irida waved and smiled. “So you found your man in white! I’m glad!” 

Adaman smiled with his arms crossed. “We missed you, but we are glad you are back where you belong.”

It must've been quite a shock to them to see Ingo so young again. It was certainly a shock for Ingo. 

"I did." He told them feeling himself tear up and gracing them with a full smile, "Thank you for understanding." Of course, he missed them but he didn't belong with them. He knew that then and he understood it now. The conductor in black turned to his twin to whisper his thanks. This might be one the best birthdays he had in a very, very long time.

“You take care of yourself, Warden Ingo. Lady Sneasler is well too. She is strong, like her old warden. And with a new litter of kittens too! In fact….” Adaman reached his arm cautiously across the space-time rift and handed Ingo an ancient pokeball. “She sends you her love.” 

A baby Hisuian shiny sneasel for him to raise. They all took some photos to always remember this day forever. Emmet would take it and put it in his pocket watch in the future. 

“Take care, Ingo! We love you!” Irida waved and the portal would close. Sneasel would be able to listen to the same tune and song from the same flute his mother listened to from the same Warden. It came with love. Everything stays, right where you left it. 200 years ago is now. 

Ingo was still smiling when he turned to Emmet, "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

He honestly meant it. It was bittersweet but in the best possible way. "I just...I know I must have said it a million times already but thank you. I can't begin to think how I can give you back as much as you gave me."

Emmet just pulled him into a warm hug and let them savor this moment. “We love you, Ingo. You’d do the same for me.” Everyone would go back inside to have cake and to open gifts. Everyone had gifts for Ingo of course. He had missed out on five years of it! Many from Emmet of course. Lots of his old favorites that he had missed out on. Entire shows he used to like that had since been completed. Model trains to build. A Hisuian replica of a pokeball making kit. It really worked! A cookbook on old Hisuian recipes. Elesa’s albums. Season tickets for the baseball park. Just… a lot of things that everyone wanted to give him but never could. Some presents were actually years old. But they never gave up hope that he would come back. Well, mostly due to Emmet’s insistence in keeping these things for such a day, but still. He was very loved. Finally, Emmet opened his gift from Ingo and saw the silver pocket watch! Ohhh he loved it! It looked so good on him too, with the chain attaching to his belt loop! Fitting too, being a “Time Keeper” of sorts, haha. “Thank you!! I love it!” 

God all of this and he only got Emmet a watch. He owed him about thirty years’ worth of presents.

"Good! Good. I can get you something else!" Ingo insisted, "Something more!"

“You are more than enough, you know.” Emmet gave him a wry smile as he cut the cake to give to everyone. He gave his brother his slice with Ingo’s own face on it. And Emmet took his. What would everyone else be doing right now? 

People were talking and eating cake, enjoying themselves. It was a much better party when what had been going on for the last five years. They even managed to witness Ingo smile, a smile perceptible to the human eye which was a feat all in itself, not to mention a literal portal opening in time-space.

"I know, I should know." Ingo nodded, "It's just after thirty years. Huh, I mean...wh-what did you do for your birthday while I was gone?"

Emmet stiffened slightly, but relaxed again. “We can talk about that later, for now, we enjoy the party, okay?” All of the Pokémon were having lots of fun. Even baby sneasel, who eventually wanted uppies to sit in Ingo’s lap. 

Ooof. He almost forgot but let it go. Gently Ingo picked up the little Sneasel kitten to sit on his lap and stroke her fur. It purred and snagged a piece of cake with its claw before taking a cat nap on his lap. 

“I always knew you’d make a great dad someday,” Emmet teased. “But in all honesty, I’m so happy for you. So glad to be here with everyone.” 

Ingo chuckled at its antics. It was going to be a handful, he could tell. "So am I. It was worth everything I've been through." He told Emmet. All the battles, and harsh cold conditions, even getting trapped in the Yin space. Hopefully it was the same for Emmet.

It most certainly was. Eventually the party had to end and they said their goodbyes to everyone, thanking them for making this day so verrrrrry special. Emmet glanced around. “Ah. Well, I suppose it’s time to clean up.” 

"At least let me help you clean up. It's your birthday as much as mine." Ingo insisted.

"Sure, we can get it done double fast!" And sure enough, they tidied things up real well. "Another win for the wonder twins. Well! I dunno about you, but I'm beat. I'm glad you enjoyed today. I worked hard to make it all come together." He sat on his bed and flopped over. "Whew. Tomorrow is another day!"

"I know! You did an excellent job! Conducted with real precision." Ingo toed off his shoes before laying carefully down on his own bed.

"Do you suppose it's later enough?"

“Hm. I suppose. Though if you want to go to sleep in a happier mood, I would leave it for tomorrow. It’s alright, Ingo, it’s all in the past.” 

He would be lying if he said he wasn't drowsy. Ingo nodded and climbed into some sleep clothes. Perhaps it was better just to end on a lighter note like this. He gave a yawn and curled up into his pillow, "H-Happy Birthday, Emmet." Yeah, after a full dinner and cake sleep sounded good now.

Emmet smiled to himself. Sleep was always a wise choice. Tomorrow was another day! They were 31 now! 

31 although Ingo supposed he was technically 61. But it didn't matter and while he was always curious to learn more about Emmet's life without him he wouldn't push his brother to tell more than what he was comfortable with.

They would sleep soundly and the morning light was bright. Emmet got ready for the day with a happy hum, putting his new watch on his belt loop and admiring it. He loved the little ticking sound it made and the intricate gears it had. It also made him feel really official, like the original train conductors. Thank you, Ingo. For everything, he thought to himself. 

Ingo had one of his little not-smiles at Emmet looking at his watch. He was glad he (well, one of the depot agents) could get something that Emmet liked in such a short time.

———————————————————————————

End of chapter 5

[callumsluvr]

dad!rafe and vivi at a daddy daughter dance 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG!!!!

she would be so excited!!! i think that momma and Rafe would still have a sitter for the babies on the night of midsummers because they’re still too little and it gives momma and Rafe a date night, so this is the first time that Vivi gets to dress up like momma does and go dance with her daddy. you’d go out like the week before with Vivienne and auntie Sarah and have a girls day, grabbing lunch and picking out soooo many dresses to try on, and eventually she finds a cute powder blue dress with little white flowers and puffed sleeves.

“i look so pretty, momma!” Vivienne says as she twirls and examines herself in the mirror in the dressing room of some expensive boutique on the mainland. safe to say, you bought the dress immediately.

*

a week later, Rafe wakes Vivi up and takes her to get a special breakfast, just the two of them, while you watch the other two girls and make sure that Vivi has everything she needs for tonight, while picking out Rafes outfit for the night.

after breakfast, he takes her to go get her nails painted whatever color she wants, and of course, she picks pink. it doesn’t really go with her outfit, but Rafe just wants his little girl to be happy so he doesn’t care at all.

*

after having a pool day with all the girls and Rafe, you get Vivi bathed and ready to go while he ran to the store to get her flowers.

“Daddy, are you ready?” Vivi giggles while she comes down the stairs. Rafe is standing, with his arm around your waist, in his powder blue button down tucked into his light khaki pants and his Richard Mille watch. you both watch Vivienne come down, and when she reaches the end, she twirls and giggles. you look over at Rafe and you can see tears well in his eyes.

he quickly pushes those down when she comes running to him, asking if he thinks she looks pretty. he quickly reassures her and takes her to the kitchen to see the vase of flowers that are specially for her.

*

after millions of pictures of the two, he sets her in her car seat in the back of his giant, black truck and turns on her playlist of Disney songs that has taken over his spotify since having girls.

pulling up to the country club, he parks in his parking spot that he bought as a hefty donation to the girls’ school.

“alright, Vivi girl, are you ready?” Rafe asks, opening her door. she nods, excitedly, and unbuckles, while holding her arms out so he can get her out of the car.

the club is decorated in pinks, whites, and flowers, seeing that the theme was Garden Tea Party.

Vivienne squeezes Rafe’s hand as they get closer, getting excited after seeing all the decorations and hearing the music blaring. Rafe checks the two in, while Vivienne chats away to her teacher who’s chaperoning.

after they get further inside, Vivienne spends the next hour dancing and playing with her friends, while Rafe - ever the social butterfly - stays against the wall, watching her. he chats to a few of the dads that he knows, and even a few that he doesn’t. mainly about business and when he hears them start to complain about their wives, he excuses himself. he has nothing else to add to that conversation.

the next hour is spent with the two of them dancing, sometimes to Taylor Swift, and then sometimes slower songs where he tries to make her laugh to avoid thinking about how the lyrics are extremely relevant to kids growing up and getting older.

at the end of the night, Rafe’s holding a sleepy Vivienne in his arms and in his pants pocket is multiple strips of pictures from the photobooth that Vivi became obsessed with. some are with her and her friends, but the majority are of her and Rafe.

*

the next morning, all Vivienne can talk about is how much fun her and her daddy had and how she can’t wait for next years.

[justagalwhowrites]

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before. 

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day. 

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms. 

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair. 

You frowned against him. 

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?” 

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.” 

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you. 

“Did you forget?” He asked. 

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.” 

He laughed a little again. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.” 

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night. 

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now. 

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him. 

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that. 

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine. 

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head. 

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it. 

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…” 

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.” 

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little. 

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.” 

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in. 

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.” 

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!” 

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your  knuckles. 

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…” 

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you. 

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.” 

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand. 

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant. 

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table. 

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu. 

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…” 

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…” 

He frowned. 

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…” 

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…” 

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish. 

“But?” He asked eventually. 

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.” 

“But…” 

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you. 

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?” 

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table. 

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yeah,” you frowned. 

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…” 

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?” 

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.” 

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased. 

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.” 

You giggled. 

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.” 

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…” 

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there. 

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low. 

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.” 

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.” 

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips. 

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him. 

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.” 

“Really?” 

Another kiss as you nodded. 

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…” 

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.” 

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did. 

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box. 

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?” 

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said. 

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?” 

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…” 

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?” 

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat. 

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.” 

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…” 

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him. 

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…” 

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?” 

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…” 

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…” 

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.” 

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you. 

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…” 

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours. 

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.” 

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…” 

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…” 

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.” 

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering. 

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets. 

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.” 

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little. 

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…” 

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.” 

He smiled, tugging you against him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You snuggled in closer. 

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.” 

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?” 

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.” 

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.” 

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.” 

Your smile grew. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  

[hurlumerlu]

regarding your post about Sand. I think that it really depends on which part of the fandom you're in, and then even more on which character is *your* particular character, if you get me. Because I have seen plenty of hate for Sand because of that and the Boeing stuff. I just think you were (luckily) spared that. I do find it interesting who people think he most wronged in that situation though - it's definitely not who I would say 9/10 times.

A lot of people seem to be very uncomfortable with the idea that their favorite character can be both lovely or hurt or damaged and still do awful things. And OF was full of that. Every single character has their ott detractors and defenders. Except Maybe Mew, although if you can't figure out which way I think fandom leans on him it actually proves my point.

I don't really think there's anything wrong with not caring that your particular fave kinda sucks, or even with preferring to ignore it. I just feel like maybe people shouldn't be so eager to throw morality stones at each other for liking or disliking whatever character when it comes to this type of show, because we're all hanging out in the same giant glass house.

(post in question)

That's interesting, because I initially wasn't really in any "part" of the fandom, as I didn't watch as it aired. I think only one of the people I followed at the time watched it, and all I got from their blog is that they loved Ray (or maybe Khaotung) and didn't like Boston's ending. In fact Boston's ending was almost all I knew about the show, because the disappointment some people felt spread wider than the fandom. So my assumptions watching the show was Ray = fan favourite, Boston = weird cautionary tale against polyamory, Mew (who was mentioned a lot in Boston posts) = manipulative marry sue, and there's other characters in there somewhere.

I came away from the show with different feelings than I expected about Boston and Mew, and when I dived into the tag I was surprised by the amount of negative posts about Ray (he is well loved, clearly, and a number of the negative posts were perfectly fair, but some I found incredibly callous). And when I say "dived into the tag" that's really what I did. I read soooo many posts, from so many different blogs that didn't seem to necessarily run in the same circles. I don't know how many hours I spent on that, tbh, the show had become A Thing for me, even though if you had asked when I was watching it I would have said "yeah it's great fun" and not much else. And yeah, like you said, every characters has their detractors and defenders (though on here I feel that Mew had mostly detractors, but the youtube comments - yes, I read those - were overwhelmingly positive toward him), but for me the characters people were the most rhapsodic about, and the least critical of, really was Sand.

This is not to say I never saw any derision! "He's such a simp" was a big one (yes and? it's sexy of him) but it was generally said with fondness. Then there were more nebulous criticism about his, idk, class consciousness, or lack thereof? And most of those personally annoy me, I've already talked on here about my dislike of many "x should just have taken the money" takes, and that sure applies to Sand, but also those particular criticisms focused more on the way Sand was written than on the kind of person Sand was. I wouldn't call them Sand hate, because it was almost never from a watsonian angle. But that might just be semantics. ... in fact these posts had a tendancy to argue that Sand was badly written (out of universe perspective), because he was so accepting of who Ray was as a person (in universe perspective), which. idk. could be considered "ray critical" rather than "sand critical"? I think that's how some of the posters themselves saw it, anyway.

I did not see much negative feelings about Sand for the Boeing event aside from "can Sand please stand up for himself" (come on, he's trying! it's hard when your specific type is "pushy and annoying") and criticism of the show for adding unnecessary drama (to each their own). People seemed more mad at the general threats to the SandRay relationship that they were at Sand himself, you know what I mean? But again I wasn't in the fandom during the week between ep11 and ep12, so I must have missed a lot. (My personal take on the Boeing situation is that Sand has absolutely nothing to be sorry for, and that both Ray and Boeing were being dicks. But since - because this is a story - they were being dicks in specific ways that ended up being a boost for Sand's self-esteem, and since I found that plotline highly entertaining, I will mercifully grant them forgiveness. Ray should have occasions to be insanely possessive of Sand, they literally both enjoy that.)

As for the stone throwing, I'm of two minds. I'm not the biggest fan of heavy moralizing, I think it gets old fast (and like, this is fandom, maybe we can save the righteous anger for more important things). But at the same time, this is fandom, and as long as we stay away from harrassment terroritory, that stone-throwing is mostly going to be harmless. I think we reach the end of my rambling. I'll tell you that *my* characters are Ray and Sand (whose storyline resonates the most with me on an emotional level) and Nick and Boston (whose storyline I find by far the neatest, most original and most interesting). I assume this does not come as a surprise to you.

[spiritintouch]

I have no idea how many hours I spent drawing Robin..... but I love her design soooo much!!!!

The second picture is just for fun to see the progress over the years. Lol. It's from 2019...

[dollya-robinprotector]

Giggling because I love making post with multiple character tags and then wait for the wrong face to be featured on all the tags ksksksks

This sydney looks soooo sillyyyy

Anw I just thought about my past so story time under the cut.

When I was in secondary school, I once knew a friend who was bullied.

For the context, it was a decent school, with 4 grades, each had 4 classes: A for lower-perform and naughty students, B for normal, C for better than average, and D for the Elites who will most definitely have bright future ahead. We are Asian children, study means EVERYTHING for us. Our worth are defined by how well we perform in school, how many awards we have and how good our grades are.

That friend was in class C. I was in class B. Normally we don't make friends outside of the class, but I once saw him being poured water on in the hallway, defended him and we became friends. Or something like that. Let's call him Z because I forgor his name now.

My parents didn't do well with the fact that I failed my entrance test and was stuck in normal class. They didn't have money to upgrade me to class C either, so they made me study extra hard. Back since I started going to school, I was being teased and harassed a lot too cuz I love to draw (what's the problem of kids being mean to artistic kids btw???). But since I was one of the best performers in study, I soon gained some respect and the soft bully subside. (I was terrible in math, but everything else were straight A okay??)

Z wasn't so lucky. I learned that his grades were terrible eventhough he was in class C. He stuttered a lot, always looks down when talking to people, never dare to engage in any conversation, etc... His appearance did not help, and he had some funny smell when I stood close to him. One thing though, he loved drawing too (urgh artistic kids again) and really admired my skill. The only times he would smile are when we talked about our fav anime. Looking back, I think maybe he had something to do with autism? I can't be sure though, but I know his parents spent a LOT to keep him in that better-than-average-class.

The bully was not too terrible, at least from what I saw and heard. He often got splashed by water, threw dirty rag or left-over food at, made fun of, laughed at, his belongings often went missing and be found somewhere dirty, etc... I used to went through all that too, so I helped him to somehow deal with them. Those sort of soft-physical bully were nothing scary once you got used to them. Just a little annoying. He got used to it too, I think, and we didn't mention those when we talk. I admit I might had some savior complex, and that friendship is not entirely friendly. It was more like I thought he would be helpless without me so I can't leave him alone.

And then one day when I was going home from school, Z approached me and asked if I want to go to his house. He said he has a very big greenhouse, and there were some pretty blooming flowers he wanted to show me. I never saw a greenhouse before and I love flowers, of course I said yes!

We rode our bicycles to his house. I've never been to his house before nor meet his parents. I didn't even ask my mom for permission to go but well, I was excited.

We went for a long time, and I started to realize he was leading me into the forest. I still went with him for maybe half an hour more, before I said I was tired and you didn't tell me your house would be this far. Then I look around and truly there was nothing bu trees surrounded the two of us. He looked back at me, clearly exhausted too, and said nothing. I started to realize the situation I was in: a 12 years old, in a forest, with no directions and a strange friend who I didn't really know. Yeh atm I was pretty scared.

I asked Z again where exactly is his house. He stuttered and said I don't need to worry, we would get there very soon. He said if I was too tired I can hop on his bike and he would get me there. Then he attempted to take my hand but that creeped me out so I stepped away from him. I turned my bike, ignored his calls, and just went as fast as I can toward the direction I thought would lead me out of the woods. He called out to me and began to chase after me too, but gave up after some times.

I then just rode my bike with full speed, somehow got out of the woods into a strange road I didn't know, asked around for direction and got home safe. My mom scolded me for being so damn late and I apologized. I never tell anybody, and never talk to Z ever again. He didn't bother me either. And that's the end of the story.

[emgene]

maybe an enhypen reaction to their s/o being a clumsy person?

i’m such a clumsy person so…😂

alsooo i’ve followed you for a really long time, probably a little bit after i started my account and i just love your fics! my favorite i think is the enhypen reaction to them wanting their s/o to wear their clothes but they’re oblivious. ahhh i just thought it was soooo cute and i also want to make a reaction like that. it’s adorable!! i’m also very oblivious to those sort of things hahaha 🤪 so anyways i just want you to know that your a fantastical writer and you’re amazing!! 💕💕 i hope you have an awesome day/night because you only deserve the best ^^

HIHI sorry for this being so extremely late!! school was a wreck and then familial problems ensued, but whatever! thank you so much for your love and support, it means so much to me!! Love you!! <3

Enhypen With a Clumsy S/O

warnings: not edited, jay is dramatic, riki mentions you possibly falling into a pond... i dont think i swore?

Jungwon is constantly worried about you. He's always watching your every move. You keep him on his toes, he swears someday you're going to end up in the hospital 'cause you tripped over your own damn feet. He says that half of his paycheck is spent on bandages for you.

Heeseung finds it hilarious. He makes fun of you, too. You'll trip and for the next hour you'll hear him going "WHOOP-" and pretend to fall. You'll leave for work and he'll say, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out! Literally!"

You, sweetheart, are the reason that Jay will start greying early. You give him so much stress, he swears he'll go into cardiac arrest. He threatens to put you in a bubble, or wrap you in bubble wrap. It looks like he has children because everything is baby-proofed. Jay carries around a first-aid kit specifically for you.

Honestly Jake doesn't really realize how clumsy you are until he sees on the bruises on your legs. He questions you about it and you end up listing what each bruise is from. The table, the stairs, the wall... Only then does he notice just how frequently you tend to get hurt. He jokes around about having to get one of those leash backpacks for you.

Sunghoon is more... bewildered and amused than worried? You'll smack your head on an open cabinet door and he'll just sigh and chuckle before going to check on you. He likes to say that if it weren't for him and his "incredible" nursing skills, you would've irreparably injured yourself already.

Sunoo says you are the entertainment in his life. He almost makes you getting hurt into a game. "How many times will Y/N get hurt today?". He does this thing where, if he has to put a bandage on you, he'll let you put one on him in solidarity. Is it a waste of bandages? Yes. Does he care? Not really.

Ni-Ki... he causes many of your injuries. He doesn't mean to! He just forgets that you don't usually catch yourself when he "bumps" into you. He teases you a lot, just like Heeseung, if not more. You'll go to the park or something and he points out everything you could hurt yourself on. "Hey you could fall into that bush! or slip on the gravel! or get hit in the head by a soccer ball! Or-" "Riki..." "maybe someone will push you into the pond!" "RIKI!"

[every-moment-a-different-sound]

7, 11, and 17 for gifmakers year in review <3

Hi Nix 💜💜💜

7. Did you participate in any gif event this year? How that went for you?

I made gifs for @painlandweek, which can be found here, and have been gradually working through the @dbdpromptober catch-up calendar here. I had a great time doing them, though I was a bit over-ambitious with some of the painlandweek stuff 😂 There were several other events that I wanted to do, but because of health/life stuff I've not had as much time as I'd like. Next year I plan on doing everything I can!

11. Did you have a gifmaker block or felt uninspired at some point in this year? Could you get over it?? How?

Oh for sure! And tbh I've been feeling that way for the last couple of weeks. I'm trying to take it easy on myself and not force anything- any half-finished projects will be there waiting for me to come back to when I'm ready. Talking to friends also always helps, for example I talked to @aletterinthenameofsanity about the project I most recently worked on, and she was kind enough to send over loads of ideas. You're always such an inspiration Kenna and I love you to bits! Thank you again for your help 💜💜💜

17. Do you have a favorite gifset made by someone else this year?

I have so many saved in an inspo folder I don't think I can choose just one 😭 I seriously tried. I ended up spending so many hours scrolling through so many absolutely stunning gifs. It's taken me days to answer this because I keep getting distracted by too many beautiful gifs lol! Having said that, I spent soooo much time staring at @stark-lord's gifs of Charles' hands. They're beautifully done gifs!!! And beautiful hands!

I also have to mention @fan-a-tink's tournaments- there's a Jenny tournament running atm for anyone who hasn't seen it, though it's taken me so long to answer that the polls have closed on this round, and all the tournaments can be found here. Not only are they always full of absolutely beautiful gifs, I think it's such a great idea that gets discussion going in the fandom. And it's always so fun to follow along and try to predict which will win!

Gifmaker year in review

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Whomst’s Drama-Watching Year in Review*

*please note this is about dramas I watched in 2024, not necessarily dramas released in 2024

Favorite “confusing and convoluted but also an unserious gay old time” drama: The Sign Special Episode

One of my fave shows last year, and then they spoiled us with a special episode??? This show has everything: Thai mythology worked into a BL plot, the most badass training for police in the world (seriously wtf they’re like the Navy SEALs here in the US), and the absolutely adorable “star-crossed but then we said fuck fate” romance between Tharn, who exemplifies my gender goals, and Phaya, a himbo simp. Not to mention that this baby *slaps the show’s roof* can fit soooo many under-explained and unlikely side stories and plot holes.

I cackled so many times watching this drama, and the special episode does not disappoint. Absolutely insane. Love it.

Favorite Performance in a Single Scene: Tan Jianci in Under the Skin 2, Episode 20

Tan Jianci. This…this fuckin guy. Our special little guy. Forlorn-looking twink extraordinaire. His off-the-rails ranting monologue while confronting a serial killer about his motives, empathizing while manipulating and trying to stay sane all at once, is genuinely up there with my favorite performances of all time.

Now, usually my ADHD ass struggles to stay focused in a scene, but dear reader—I just sat there as Tan Jianci gave us a new side of Shen Yi, spellbound like his audience (please stop skipping off to confront serial killers alone, Shen Yi sweetie) in the scene. He needs an award for this role that matches the skill he showed here (and throughout the show); I don’t think I’ve been so hypnotized and fascinated by an actor’s work in a single scene since Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men. All the awards for Tan Jianci.

Favorite Sapphic Sweethearts: Tul and Ran in Petrichor the Series

Listen. I am not made of stone and Thailand knows what they’re fucking doing giving us these two. I’m fine. Totally fine. No, you spent an hour rewatching that one scene.

I haven’t posted much on this show because I’m still watching it and savoring it slowly, like a Milano cookie. But once I get some free time (laughs hysterically) I plan to start doing meta on this Englot dream. It’s giving us what Rizzoli and Isles should have done in the first place (no disrespect to Sasha Alexander, my queen).

Favorite “The Subtext Is Rapidly Becoming Text” Couple: Ao Li and Yan Jingjing in Under the Skin 2, Episode 15

Okay so I’ve already talked about this show in the list—so what? So what???

Captain Holt voice: and you’ll hear it again!

This series is no stranger to the sapphic under-overtones, but the two ladies who reunite at the culmination of a case that is not what it seems (I refuse to spoil) acted their fucking hearts out and DO NOT TELL ME THAT THE TWO OF THEM EMBRACING IN A WEDDING VENUE, ONE IN A FULL-ON WHITE WEDDING DRESS AND THE OTHER IN A RED (popular wedding dress color for Chinese brides) DRESS, IS ANYTHING LESS THAN GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAYGAYGAY—

You get the picture. Anyway. They’re amazing and their sapphic coded “former friends” storyline is realistic and beautifully told. Ao Li broke my heart. Even though we only had them for a few episodes, I would seriously watch a whole spin off series about these two characters.

Favorite Returning Actor: Wu Dohwan in Mad Dog

I was first introduced to Wu “Doe Eyes” Dohwan in My Country: The New Age, which is a super fun romp full of kittens and milkshakes—just kidding, it’s a soul-rending mindfuck of a historical drama that I’m still brooding over. Oh, and he was also the golden retriever boxer in Bloodhounds opposite Lee Sangyi (who absolutely killed it too, that show rocked). Now suddenly I’m watching him play a cunning chameleon taking on the world’s longest revenge scheme and making so many friends and enemies in the process (good for him). His range is insane—from a high-strung, ambitious emo with unrequited love to an innocent himbo jock to a scheming traumatized con artist. His Home Alone episode is great, too, and you get to see that the golden retriever thing is probably the closest to his real self.

Surprise Favorite: Where Your Eyes Linger: Director’s Cut

People. I clicked out of curiosity because hey, I liked that BL the first time around, I wonder what’s diff—holy shit.

This director’s cut is a gift. It focuses more on Kang Gook’s internal experience, the closeups and cutaways are jarring but somehow work really well. Honestly, it felt like I was watching a companion to the original.

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic 1.2

Masterlist

a/n: I'm so so soooo sorry I'm dragging out the date sequence... but I also love a good build up and I hope I did them justice! And I promise that the actual date is next!

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: the seagull

word count: 4,943

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

"Tom, how many hours did you sleep last night? Quickly," Tom glanced up at the call of his name, finding Marcelline standing over him with her phone.

"Are you filming me?" he asked plainly.

"Yeah! We're gonna look back on this when we're in fourth year!" she replied ecstatically, "How many hours did you sleep last night? C'mon!"

Tom was taken aback at first, his mind blanking out before he stuttered a quick, "Erm -- six?"

Marcelline's face fell into shocked dismay, dropping her camera lens and turning around, "What the f-- how are all the guys sleeping better than us!?" she shouted to another classmate, Kathy.

"Because men don't fret like women do," she replied.

"Hey! Brian got three hours!" another student pointed out.

While Tom managed about six hours of sleep, it wasn't exactly the kind of rest that left him feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. Instead, it was a restless, fragmented slumber filled with half-formed dreams about missed cues and forgotten lines. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, his mind running a relentless marathon of overthinking. Every detail of the day ahead looped through his brain: rehearsals, costume fittings, the potential pitfalls of his performance.

An hour on the phone with his mom before bed had been both a blessing and a curse. She was her usual buoyant self, overflowing with encouragement and excitement, "You're going to be brilliant! I just know it!" she'd said, her voice brimming with pride. Tom could almost see her smiling on the other end of the line, her enthusiasm a bright beacon in his otherwise cloudy thoughts. She'd wished him all the best for his show and reminded him how much she was looking forward to having him back home in England. One more week and he'd be on a plane again...

As he got ready that morning, he tried to shake off the lingering drowsiness. The mirror reflected a version of himself that looked more frazzled than he'd like to admit. Dark circles underscored his eyes, a testament to his lack of rest, but there was a spark there too—a determination to push through the fatigue and give the performance of his life.

He packed his bag with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessive, double-checking that he had everything he needed for the day. Script, check. Costume, check. Snacks to last the day, check. With each item he ticked off his mental list, he felt a tiny surge of control in the midst of the chaos.

Sunny's performance review was the following Monday, so he had the luxury of staying home that morning. He lounged on the couch, feet up, looking more relaxed than Tom had ever felt in his life. That being said, he wish Tom luck and told him he'd catch him at the show. Just as Tom was about to leave, Sunny stopped him and tossed him a small bottle of cologne, "Trust me, you'll want this for your date,"

Tom caught it, barely. "Thanks, I think?" he read the Jo Malone label with intrigue, "Basil & Neroli..."

"It'll make a better impression than just deodorant," Sunny assured him.

Tom stuffed the cologne in his bag, feeling a bit overwhelmed by Sunny's thoughtfulness, but grateful nevertheless, "Seriously, thanks mate,"

"Go knock 'em dead," Sunny said, waving him off, "And remember, the date's about having fun. Don't overthink it!"

With a final nod, Tom stepped into the hallway and nearly collided with Noelle. She emerged from her door at the exact same moment, wearing a navy mini dress sprinkled with delicate white flowers. A light white cardigan draped over her shoulders, her hair cascading in long, soft waves that framed her face. The white trim on her black backpack coordinated nicely with her converse sneakers, and there were little white berettes clipped at the sides of her hair that added a lovely touch of innocence and charm.

Tom felt his breath catch. This was a far cry from her usual ballet attire which was clean, sleek and perfectly packaged. She looked relaxed, fresh, and irresistibly sweet. Every time Tom thought Noelle couldn't be any cuter, she somehow managed to surpass his expectations.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice betraying his admiration.

"Hi," she replied, a shy smile curving her lips.

He couldn't help but stare, feeling like a giddy schoolboy, "You look... wonderful,"

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself,"

"Thank you,"

They started walking to the stairwell, slower than usual to a fault, "So... are you excited?" she asked.

"For what?" a teasing smile tugged at his lips.

She shrugged shyly, "For tonight,"

"What part of tonight?" he asked, his nerves easing a bit, "There's a lot happening tonight!" he laughed as she rolled her eyes.

Noelle shook her head with a candid smile, "And I'm personally excited for all of it," she said.

"Me too," now, if he could just make it through the next twelve hours with peace and calm...

They hit the lobby and immediately heard the sound of sticking and cutting, they were both curious and dismayed to find Doris putting up 'DO NOT ENTER' tape over the elevator doors. She was mumbling under her breath, only pausing when she turned and found Tom and Noelle watching her.

"Elevator's out of commission," she simply said, "Don't ask,"

With an uncertain glower Noelle looked to Tom, who simply shrugged back as they started for the doors and wished Doris a good day. The older woman was so frustrated and annoyed with her renovations plans, she was none the wiser to the palpable energy between the pair.

The ride to school was nothing remarkable—New Yorkers squeezed together like sardines, the air thick and unmoving. Noelle and Tom managed to snag the last two seats at the back of the bus, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Tom turned to her, curiosity piqued. "So, when did Daniel give you the ticket?" he asked.

Noelle shook her head, her expression softening into a smile, "He didn't."

Tom blinked, confused, "Then how did you get your ticket?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement, "Stanis is a magician," she replied, her smile widening.

Tom didn't press for more details; there was still a part of him that found Stanis intimidating. He could very well imagine Stanis being involved in a high society crime syndicate, the type where he knew dirt on everybody and would use it to his advantage. So instead, Tom settled back in his seat, smiling to himself as Noelle locked her pinky around his, the simple gesture filling him with warmth.

And that was how Tom found himself here: sitting on the cold auditorium stage floor, watching his castmates run through their final rehearsals. The memory of her finger wrapped around his was still fresh in his mind, a welcome reassurance that he could push his nerves down. The bustling energy around him, the snippets of dialogue floating through the air, all of it seemed more manageable with the thought of Noelle in the audience, her presence a comforting anchor.

As he tried to focus on his lines, a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"Jordan! How many hours did you sleep?" Marcelline's voice carried across the auditorium.

Tom couldn't help but snicker to himself as Jordan forced himself to look up at the camera, a dry, tired glare crossing his face.

"Eight," Jordan answered bluntly, his voice tinged with irritation. Somehow, it still didn't look like enough for Jordan.

Tom's amusement was short-lived as he realized his own exhaustion mirrored Jordan's. The final rehearsal was proving to be as challenging as he'd anticipated, but the thought of Noelle watching him perform kept him going. He straightened up, ready to dive back into his role, determined to give it his all.

In the dressing room, the tension wrapped around Bianca like a suffocating shroud. She meticulously adjusted the layers of her costume, her movements sharp with a lingering resentment she refused to acknowledge. As Iseul delicately applied makeup nearby, she ventured cautiously once more into the fraught silence.

"You've been awfully quiet all day," she noted, carefully applying her eyeliner in the mirror.

Bianca scoffed back, "I've had a lot to do today," she replied simply, "Stanis doesn't have just one star pupil, after all,"

At that, Iseul put her liner down, turning to her friend with a concerned scowl, “Bianca, I know how close you are with Noelle,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “but do you think there might be a part of you that’s feeling… maybe a little jealous?”

Bianca froze mid-adjustment, her brows knitting together defensively, “Jealous? No way,” she retorted, her tone sharp with denial, “Why the hell should I be jealous of her?”

Iseul sighed softly, sensing Bianca’s resistance. “It’s okay to feel that way, Bianca. It happens between friends, more often than you think. But maybe… maybe you’re projecting your fears onto her?”

Bianca shook her head adamantly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. “I’m not projecting anything,” she insisted, her voice wavering slightly. “I'm not afraid of anything, either. I'm a friggin' ballerina in New York City for Christ sake...” her voice trailed off, the unspoken fears lingering heavy in the air.

Iseul reached out, placing a comforting hand on Bianca’s arm. “Bianca, listen. Noelle’s not you. She feels things more, she had a lot of compassion for people. I'm not saying you don't!" she held up a finger before Bianca could interrupt. "But... even you've admitted you can be intense, and stressed. And we know how stressed you've been since getting this part --"

"What is your point, Iseul?" Bianca finally asked, "We have like -- ten minutes before we have to be on stage!"

"I know!"

"So get to the fucking point!"

"Don't be so mean to Noelle! And lighten up about Tom," she told her.

Bianca scoffed, "And what does Tom have to do with anything?"

"Noelle told me what you said about him. How he's no good for her? For the record I completely disagree, but... Maybe you think that because you're jealous of her? You're jealous of what they have?" she reasoned gently, “Maybe instead of antagonizing her, you could talk to her. Tell her how you're feeling, truly,”

Bianca hesitated, her emotions a tumultuous storm inside her, “I'm not jealous, Iseul. I'm just... I'm so sick of everything coming so easily to Noelle!” she admitted quietly, her eyes avoiding Iseul’s gaze, “She's got a great body, flawless hair, everybody loves her -- even friggin' Stanis! And why not me? Why can't I be that likeable? Why can't the guy that I like just pay attention to me and not to her?"

Iseul’s heart ached for her friend, seeing the vulnerability beneath Bianca’s facade of strength, “Bianca, of course people like you! We're your friends!” she reassured softly, “But to be honest... you can be really bitchy sometimes, and just really unapproachable. And if that's the way you've been feeling then maybe you should talk to Noelle about it? Just be honest with her! She'll definitely understand!”

"Will she? How could Little Miss Perfect possibly understand?" she rolled her eyes.

Iseul cocked a brow, "What perfect? She gets zits and period cramps just like we do. She farts and burns her food just like us. Her parents are deadbeats who probably don't even give her a second thought. And she had to miss this recital because she got really sick, and you got her part! So really -- how perfect is her life?"

"You're not gonna' guilt me, Iseul!" Bianca snapped, "I worked just as hard for Giselle as she did!"

"I'm not trying to guilt you, Bianca!" Iseul snapped back, "I just want you to chill! You and Noelle have been best friends since kindergarten, and you know she has your back! You don't need to be threatened by her!"

Bianca nodded slowly, her thoughts swirling with conflicting emotions, “I guess so,” she murmured finally, a mixture of resentment and determination simmering beneath the surface.

As they finished preparing for the performance, Bianca’s heart was still heavy with unspoken fears and unresolved feelings. Deep down, she knew she needed to confront the truth she had been avoiding: the fear of losing herself in Noelle's shadow, losing her to someone who might not understand her as deeply as Bianca did. Yet, amidst the swirl of emotions, Bianca clung to her denial, unwilling to admit the jealousy that gnawed at her heart.

Just as the tense silence settled between them, a knock on the dressing room door broke the moment. Startled, Iseul turned to see a delivery person holding a bouquet of vibrant red roses, a card nestled among the blooms.

"I've got a bouquet delivery for Iseul Jeong," he announced. Iseul's surprise was palpable as she accepted the flowers.

"Oh my gosh, thank you!" the delivery man took off with a curt nod and Iseul settled back in her chair, both girls adamant and curious as she read the note.

“Dear Iseul, good luck on your performance tonight! Wish I could be there in person, but I already know you're going to kill it! All the best... your secret admirer? I've got a secret admirer!” Iseul exclaimed softly, her cheeks tinged pink with pleasure.

Bianca’s gaze flickered to the roses, her irritation simmering beneath the surface as she averted her eyes. The timing of the gesture felt like a cruel twist of the knife, a reminder of her own tangled emotions. She busied herself with her makeup, her thoughts a turbulent storm of envy and uncertainty.

As Iseul admired the flowers, a faint smile playing on her lips, Bianca wrestled with her inner turmoil. She knew she needed to confront Noelle, to voice her fears and concerns. Yet, as she watched Iseul’s delighted reaction, a part of her couldn’t help but resent the happiness that seemed just out of her reach.

The auditorium hummed with the low murmur of excited conversations, the anticipation of the upcoming ballet recital palpable in the air. Noelle and her family settled into their seats, Franca fussing with Chiara's hair and trying to fix her slightly smudged makeup. And ever in her teenage angst, Chiara batted her away like a bratty cat. Noelle, however, was only half paying attention. Her eyes kept darting to the illuminated face of her watch, or she would double check that she had her ticket in her purse.

In another part of the campus, Tom was in the final stages of preparing for his performance. The backstage area was a flurry of activity as actors milled about, doing vocal exercises and stretches. Tom adjusted his costume, the stiff collar and unfamiliar fabric feeling both thrilling and constricting.

He glanced at the mirror, taking in the reflection of himself as Boris Trigorin. Excitement bubbled in his chest, mingling with a gnawing apprehension. He could hear snippets of lines and bursts of laughter from his castmates, their warmups filling the air with a kind of chaotic energy. Tom’s fingers tapped nervously against his script, the worn pages a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

Back in the auditorium, Franca leaned over, her voice coming in a whisper "Are you feeling alright? Do you want to stand up before the show?” Franca’s voice was a soft but frantic hum in the background as Noelle’s gaze flicked to her watch again.

"I'm fine, Franca. Don't worry," Noelle smiled reassuringly.

The house lights dimmed, signaling the start of the performance. Noelle’s heart pounded, not only from the excitement of seeing her friends dance but also from the anticipation of what lay ahead with Tom. She forced herself to focus on the stage as the first notes of the orchestra swelled, the curtains parting to reveal the dancers.

Tom, meanwhile, took a deep breath, the finality of the upcoming performance settling in. He moved to join his fellow actors, feeling the camaraderie as they wished each other luck. The scent of greasepaint and the soft rustle of costumes created a familiar backdrop to his growing nerves.

As the ballet began, Noelle’s eyes flickered between the graceful movements on stage and the persistent ticking of her watch. Her friends twirled and leaped with ethereal beauty, their dedication evident in every precise step. Noelle felt a pang of pride and longing, wishing she could fully immerse herself in the moment but knowing that her mind was already halfway to Tom’s show.

Despite the tremendous music, Maurice could still hear Chiara's nails tapping away over her phone. She was texting furiously. With aloof dismay, he leaned over, his voice barely a whisper as he scolded her, "Put the phone away, Chiara. Security's gonna think you're filming," Chiara sighed dramatically beside them, clearly unimpressed, but Noelle remained oblivious, her thoughts far away.

As Noelle watched Bianca gracefully glide across the stage, her emotions swirled like a tempestuous sea. Pride welled up within her, a fierce joy that threatened to overflow as she witnessed her friend's flawless execution of each pirouette and arabesque. Yet, beneath the surface, a trace of lingering resentment lingered from their recent argument. Despite the saltiness tainting her admiration, Noelle couldn't deny the admiration she felt for Bianca's talent and dedication, her heart swelling with conflicting emotions as she applauded vigorously at the performance's end.

Sunny sat in the dimly lit theatre, his anticipation palpable as he waited for the play to begin. His fingers twitched with nervous energy, but he was anxious as his phone buzzed discreetly in his pocket. Retrieving it, he read the confirmation text: his flower bouquet had been delivered anonymously. The gesture warmed his heart, and he couldn’t suppress a giddy smile as he imagined Iseul's surprise and -- hopefully -- delight. He hoped she wouldn't think she had a crazy stalker or anything. Adjusting in his seat, Sunny glanced around the theatre, his excitement growing as the lights dimmed and the stage came to life.

Tom’s turn on stage was fast approaching. He joined the others in a circle, their whispered encouragements a soothing balm to his nerves. His mind wandered briefly to Noelle, imagining her in the audience, her presence a steadying force. He straightened his costume one last time, taking another deep breath.

As the ballet performance reached its crescendo, Noelle’s eyes met her watch once more. It was almost time. She leaned over to Franca, whispering her plan to slip out quietly. Franca nodded, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Noelle rose from her seat, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. She cast one last look at her friends on stage, then slipped out of the auditorium, her steps quickening with purpose.

Tom stood in the wings, the stage lights casting long shadows. The call for his scene came, and he moved forward, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Somewhere out there, he knew Noelle was making her way to support him, and the thought filled him with a surge of confidence.

As he stepped onto the stage, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the performance and the promise of seeing Noelle after the final bow.

Noelle slowed her pace to a cautious jog, mindful of her surgeon’s warnings against strenuous activity, including running. She focused on reaching the theater without pushing herself too far into discomfort. The new auditorium for the theater kids was more accessible this time, and she navigated towards it with determination, her purse clutched tightly as if afraid her ticket might escape.

Arriving breathless, Noelle found the door attendant in the process of closing up. Her lungs protested the exertion, legs already sore from the brief jog. She managed to catch her breath enough to hand over her ticket, which the attendant glanced at briefly before nodding her through the entrance. The theatre was already dark, the actors already on stage opening up the scene when Noelle ducked in. She skimmed along the wall and finding one in a handful of empty seats in the back row.

Just as she sat down, Tom stepped onto the stage, his heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. The auditorium stretched before him, a sea of expectant faces shimmering under the soft glow of stage lights. His gaze flickered across the audience, searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of Noelle.

"In this tranquil setting," he began, his voice steady and resonant, "where the lake whispers secrets to the wind, I find solace in the embrace of nature's beauty."

Marcelline, embodying Nina's youthful admiration, approached him with eagerness, "Boris, tell me of your latest story. Your words weave magic in my mind."

Tom, as Trigorin, smiled warmly at Marcelline, his eyes reflecting the character's depth of experience. "Ah, Nina," he replied, "your enthusiasm is a balm to my soul. I draw inspiration from the simplest of moments, the fleeting whispers of life."

Jordan, portraying Konstantin, interjected with a hint of resentment. "Your stories, Boris, they enchant Nina and the world. But do they speak of truth or mere fantasies?"

Tom met Jordan's gaze, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ah, Konstantin," he mused, "the artist's eternal dilemma. Truth, illusion—perhaps they are two sides of the same coin, perceived differently by each soul."

The other actors, fully immersed in their roles, engaged in a lively discussion that echoed Chekhov's exploration of art and existence. Tom's performance carried the weight of Trigorin's introspective nature, his voice resonating with the character's complexities.

Throughout the scene, Tom's eyes darted to the audience between lines, silently hoping to spot Noelle among them. His performance, a delicate dance of words and emotions, captured the essence of Chekhov's themes while his heart beat in anticipation of her presence.

Noelle sat in the dimly lit auditorium, her gaze fixed on the stage where Tom, transformed into Trigorin, held court with his eloquent words and charismatic presence. The play's dialogue floated through the air, mingling with the soft rustling of the audience and the occasional cough. Yet, for Noelle, all peripheral sounds faded into insignificance as she watched him.

Tom's voice resonated with a depth that captivated her, each word a brushstroke painting vivid images in her mind. His eyes, usually warm and inviting in their everyday encounters, now held a new intensity—a reflection of Trigorin's conflicted soul. She noticed the subtle shifts in his expression, the way he leaned forward in earnest engagement with his fellow actors, and the graceful gestures that punctuated his dialogue.

As Trigorin, Tom embodied a blend of charm and vulnerability that stirred something deep within Noelle. It wasn't just the character he portrayed but the essence of Tom himself, laid bare on stage. She felt drawn to him in ways she hadn't fully acknowledged before, his presence enveloping her thoughts and emotions with an undeniable allure.

In the darkness of the auditorium, surrounded by the unfolding drama and the palpable energy of the performance, Noelle's heart beat in sync with the rhythm of the play. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Tom, each fleeting glance he cast towards the audience igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest. The distance between them seemed both vast and infinitesimal, a tension she struggled to define yet couldn't deny.

Noelle's fingers curled around the armrest of her seat, her breath catching in moments of poignant dialogue that resonated with her own inner turmoil. She watched Tom with a mixture of admiration and longing, the lines between reality and fiction blurring as she found herself caught in the spell he wove with every word and gesture.

She glanced around the theater, noticing the rapt attention of the audience, but her focus remained on Tom. In that moment, watching him embody Trigorin's complexity, she couldn't deny the magnetic pull he exerted on her heart. Each word, each gesture only deepened her admiration and affection for him.

And then finally, finally, Tom saw her. As his gaze settled on Noelle, a soft smile touched his lips, and he delivered his line with an intensity that resonated with his own emotions:

"Amidst the chaos of life's stage, a solitary figure emerges—a beacon of serenity in a sea of tumult...."

The words carried a dual meaning, echoing both the character's sentiment and his personal recognition of Noelle's presence; a calming presence amidst the nerves and anticipation of the performance. He was doing so well, he was so close and he would be at the end.

On stage, Bianca's movements were fluid and precise, each step echoing the rhythm of the music pulsing through the theater. As she pirouetted and leaped, her eyes occasionally strayed to the audience, seeking a familiar face. Amidst the sea of spectators, she caught sight of Noelle's family—her aunt adjusting her seat, her uncle leaning forward with interest. But Noelle's absence was palpable, a void in the audience that Bianca couldn't help but feel keenly.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, mingled with a hint of resentment that tightened her movements, infusing her dance with an unexpected intensity. She pushed through, channeling her emotions into each graceful arc and turn, determined to make her performance memorable despite the absence that weighed on her heart.

The final curtain fell with a hushed finality, the stage bathed in the glow of the overhead lights. The audience erupted into a thunderous standing ovation, hands clapping in unison as cheers filled the air. Backstage, the cast of gathered, their faces glowing with relief and pride. Tom stood among them, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He ran back on stage to take a final bow with his cast mates, so overwhelmed and grateful for the reception.

Amidst the celebration, Tom's gaze found Noelle in the audience. Her eyes sparkled with pride as she clapped enthusiastically, a radiant smile lighting up her face. Their eyes locked briefly, a silent exchange of shared joy and accomplishment passing between them. Tom's heart swelled with happiness, knowing that he had not only impressed the audience but also earned Noelle's admiration.

As the curtain fell and applause thundered through the theater, Tom found himself swept up in a whirlwind of backstage activity. He exchanged quick hugs and high-fives with Marcelline, Jordan, and the rest of the cast, their faces alight with exhilaration and relief. The adrenaline from the performance surged through him, keeping fatigue at bay as they navigated the maze of corridors backstage.

They reached the dressing rooms amidst laughter and excited chatter, the air thick with the lingering euphoria of a successful show. Tom sank into a vanity chair, his legs trembling with lingering nerves and the lingering rush of performing. His costume felt like a second skin, a reminder of the character he had just inhabited, and he couldn't help but replay moments of the play in his mind.

"Tom! Group photo!" Marcelline's voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. He pushed himself up with a smile, joining the cast for a photo that captured their shared triumph. Flashbulbs popped as they posed, their faces still flushed with the heat of the performance.

As the theater buzzed with post-show excitement, Tom stood near his dressing room, scanning the crowd with anticipation. Amidst the throng of well-wishers and fellow actors, he spotted Sunny weaving through the crowd, a wide grin plastered on his face. Sunny approached with his characteristic exuberance, arms outstretched in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Mate!" Sunny exclaimed, pulling Tom into a quick but heartfelt hug, "You killed it out there! Seriously, the whole audience was eating it up."

Tom laughed, returning Sunny's embrace briefly before pulling back to meet his friend's enthusiastic gaze. "Really?"

"Yeah! Fuck'n move over, Dicaprio!" Sunny clapped Tom on the shoulder, nodding towards the dispersing crowd, "You were incredible. And hey," he added with a wink, "I reckon someone else agrees with me," Sunny nodded subtly towards the hallway where Noelle stood, her presence a beacon amidst the backstage chaos.

Tom followed Sunny's gaze, his heartbeat quickening at the sight of her. Noelle's eyes met his across the room, her smile radiant and genuine. She approached them with a grace that seemed to quiet the bustling energy around them, her focus solely on Tom.

Noelle moved gracefully through the bustling crowd, her steps echoing just behind Tom's. As she approached, a rush of excitement and pride filled her chest. When Tom turned to face her, she couldn't contain her joy. With a playful squeak, she threw her arms around him, feeling his warm embrace as he lifted her off her feet for a brief moment. His presence, neroli oil mixed with the faint scent of his costume, enveloped her, filling her senses with a blend of musk and the lingering energy of the performance.

"Oh my gosh, Tom!" she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity, "You were incredible!"

He chuckled softly, "Thank you, Noelle," he replied, his breath warm against her hair, "I'm so happy you could make it!"

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," she said softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his as they stood close together, "You're always worth the wait,"

Tom's smile widened, his gaze softening as he squeezed her hand gently, "And you make every moment special," he replied, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.

In that fleeting moment, amid the buzz of the crowd and the shared euphoria of the evening, Noelle felt a comforting warmth envelop her. As she locked eyes with Tom, a silent giddiness passed between them, a taste of whatever adventures lay ahead for them for the night...