#can i watch pride and prejudice at any time i want on max? yes. however it coming back to netflix is cause for celebration

[rosymiel]

when is it my turn to be “you have bewitched me, body and soul”’d

[acloudkat]

Gossip Girl 2.0

So. . . I was unsure of whether I was going to talk about this or not but… in the end, here we are!

I shall be talking about the Gossip Girl Reboot.

Now quick disclaimer and mild *excuse you* to HBO, please find ways to make your content accessible to Europe because there are those of us that are interested and unfortunately your "Max" service is US only and honestly i see no reasonable logic behind it. Therefore my means of getting access to this content shall not be discussed.

Extra disclaimer, there will be spoilers. Doi.

Now I am a big die hard fan of the original GG series and despite the outdated (to today’s standards) comparisons and slang, some of the topics hold up even today. For anyone curious or questioning my opinion, based on my generation, I am mildly in the middle as a Zelenial at 23. I did not grow up with GG, I learned about it when I was 14 but watched it for the first time when I was 19. Since, I have watched it up to 14-17 times; more than 10 for sure. So you can do with that as you please. The main reason I mention this is due to some articles and comments pointing out that maybe it’s a “Gen Z only media” or that “Millennials are just bitter cause it’s not theirs”. Keeping that in mind I will be as per usual showing the ups and downs of the show (so far and later on) from my own personal perspective.

After watching ep 1. (& now 2 which will be in a separate post after this) I have a few questions, comments AND concerns. So let’s get into those shall we :)

So let's do a little round up of our characters.

We have newcomer Zoya Lott that is moving to NYC on a Constance scholarship! But little did anyone in the show know, it was all a plot to get to be with her *half sister*. WHAT?! So the tldl on that is that Zoya and our other main character, Julien Calloway, share a mom! Mom, that i quote "left Julien's dad for Zoya's dad and the dads hate each other" because of which hate, they had absolutely forbidden their daughters from communicating. One thing led to another, a friend request was sent and this is basically the parent trap. . . . but for the kids. . .and they're aware of it cause they made it. . . I suppose? The parents haven't really been mentioned to matter in their plan, however, they do keep bringing up their middle names as "Zoya Jane and Julien Elizabeth" as clues left by their mother? Now some rumours around the web have connected the names to the Pride and Prejudice novels and while that would be extremely Gossip Girl-esque to do, and I am entirely up for that, hell yea!!! I'm wondering if it's as simple as... their mother's name was Elizabeth Jane... but maybe GG will be the one to discover that secret first? Other than that, Zoya is very much a very trusting "innocent type" character that probably has more past than we know about so it will be quite interesting to see how that elaborates going further into the series.

Then there is self-made influencer Julien Calloway. She is the new version of queen at Constance but as stated, they "don't do the patriarchy anymore". While she appears all smiles and kindness, personally i feel as if JC is kind of fake? She has things she cares about yes, but the moment someone or something interferes with her followers and her social standing or Obie (more on him later)

"the gloves come off and the claws come out" - Serena Van der Woodsen

When it comes to Julien I am honestly more curious to see who she is once you take away the followers and the media. Will she be an actual person or just a shallow obsessed spoiled brat? I just hope it won't be the typical story of "have to be perfect and have to have everyone like me because my mom left" ie. has mommy issues. That is how that cliche goes after all. So I am greatly hoping that's not going to be it for this one.

Obie Bergmann! We get introduced to Obie as Julien's boyfriend. Throughout ep 1, the things we learn about Obie are that he is basically the richest in the group, and lives in Dumbo. (irony from original GG for anyone that can guess it). He appears like a super nice and kind dude, a supportive boyfriend, kind of bland and tired of the relationship but the main thing that bothers me about him so far is his impossible to ignore "white guilt syndrome". For anyone unaware, "white guilt" is "remorse or shame felt by a white person with respect to racial inequality and injustice". While it's not a bad thing trying to make up for the in-equality in the world, here's hoping that's not his entire character cus that would get old quick.

Then we have the bestie, Audrey Hope. Audrey. . . is cold but to the point. Very analysing and observing. Definitely the type of character that would take all the info first and decide what to do after. I both like and am confused by her? Her cold mannerisms are quite enjoyable among the masses of drama and emotion I won't lie. However, i do predict a juicy threesome between her, boyfriend Aki and one Max Wolfe. Honestly, I am highly interested in how their relationship evolves.

Aki Menzies is kind of a mystery as of the moment. As to be expected with just 1 episode, we won't know too much about all the characters. He is the very supportive boyfriend that tries to keep the peace between everyone.

Max Wolfe on the other hand appears like the much more flamboyant version of Chuck Bass, if Chuck Bass had a supportive family environment and no limits on who he's dating. That's more or less for him but kuddos for his 0 hesitation to basically have a pic of his dick sent to everyone. I will never not find that hilarious. But again, between these three is my prediction for some juicy interactions. Cause to be fully honest, the chemistry is undeniable.

Monet de Haan. Ah. She is honestly the savage that we need around here. She is the control and the power behind Julien's brand honestly. I am curious how come she helps Julien with her brand rather than have her own? If we go off anything said in the episode, she is more feared than adored so maybe that's why? But Monet honey, fear can also have a following, just . . a different one.

And then there's Luna La, "The stylist" while we don't know much about her, some of her one liners are actively giving me life. Her and Monet are definitely a package deal and i wonder if there is juicier gossip there that we don't know yet.

Lastly, we have our new Gossip Girl. Young teacher, Kate Keller. I won't lie, i did not see us knowing who GG is from the get go. I am however wondering whether this will drag her down to the level of highschoolers (besides the fact that she looks younger than some of them xD) Something that is bothering me in the reboot however, is that technically, characters that represent adults, spying on minors??? Like they even make the point that "i shouldn't have these, i should be in jail" in regards to having almost naked pictures of the kids. Like it's not really okay??? In the original yea no one knew who GG was but they always knew it was someone their age. The teachers didn't care at those times. But they do now and I am not fully sure how okay it is.

And of course, the extras like some of the other teachers behind GG and the parents. We however, don't know too much about them as of now so we shall see soon. If any new characters are introduced they will be addressed but for now, onto the episode!

The half sisters plot is definitely interesting so I would love to know where the whole middle names thing will go. The story line I'm most interested in at the moment however is between Audrey, Max and Aki. I want to see that unwind into something horrendous but then beautiful! It has so much potential in my opinion. In terms of character development however i want to see who Julien is without all of her fame and followers. When the focus is not the media and the attention. I want to see that Julien.

The first episode definitely introduced us to a lot of things at once so far that is my take on them. I'm sure that in the future both the teachers and parents will be a bigger part but one thing is abundantly clear. Unlike the OGGG, there won't be more than maybe 2-3 seasons depending on the ages of the students. The teachers won't follow them onto college will they? Or will things drastically change along the way? It was rather amusing seeing them talk about all the old characters however, and reference the OG Gossip Girl. I am vaguely offended that they categorised twitter as "a glorified chatroom for memes for people over 30". Like dude. . . that hit me hard. I am happy that FB was never even mentioned as existing tho! Cause let's be honest that is not the "hip" thing anymore. But the rules they put down at the party definitely made my head spin. Had to listen to them twice to even get what was happening.

But that's probably enough of me babbling on about this xD If you want to find this on an apparently dying type of media, here's my blog post about it as well lol: https://acloudkat.wordpress.com/?p=960

[nolongeracopper-blog]

Safehouse, the First of Many

(transferred from Dis/cord RP)

(Jacob)

It certainly wasn't the most luxurious place to stay, but it was not uncomfortable. A small basement apartment that served as a throwaway safehouse. One large room with a comfortable bed and a large sofa, a clean bathroom with a shower that actually produced hot water. Sternwood had made sure to stock the fridge in the kitchen the day before yesterday. They would not have to leave the apartment for at least four, maybe five days. Enough time to hopefully have to force focus their attention on something else. Like the two false leads leaving the UK for America and Egypt.

Sternwood dropped the backpack onto the sofa and shrugged out of the jacket before pointing to the bed which currently held, beside fresh sheets, two white boxes. One with 200ml syringes and the other with large gauge needles. "That backpack contains one hundred thousand pounds and three changes of clothes.", Sternwood said, pushing his hands casually into the pockets of his trousers, before nodding towards the medical supplies on the bed. "That should last you a while. There is another set of needles and syringes in the bathroom, together with ten doses of codeine. You are free to collect it and leave. If you don't, we are going to leave for Calais in four days."

(Max)

One hundred thousand. You ever saw that kind of money on a cop’s salary, not unless you were doing crooked deals. Max paused, still reeling from the fact that they had made it, they had escaped. The adrenaline was still high in his system, putting him on a dazed edge as he rode the line between guilty elation and the nagging feeling he should expect to be under fire any moment, and the sheer size of that number was almost difficult to comprehend.

It was tempting. Prejudice dies hard even in spaces it has no reason to exist, and the ever-present pain in his leg, the humiliation he endured for years on the force, wouldn’t let him forget how badly he failed in the face of bringing this man to justice. It was the too-recent knowledge that the justice he’d put so much faith in was faulty and false that stayed him.

He hovered, for a moment, over the backpack, his hand even lingered at its straps, not quite gripping it, just trailing along its edges pensively, almost longingly, before he stepped away and very pointedly shrugged out of the leather jacket he’d been given for the escape. He tossed it on the bed, then lifted the lid of the medical supplies and looked them over critically.

“Where are you sleeping?”

(Jacob)

Roy had not ceased to remind Jake over the past three days that he did not owe Lewinsky a single fucking thing. They were not friends, not even acquaintances. They stood on opposite ends of the law.

Had. For the longest time.

But it had not been Lewinsky's fault that someone further up the food chain had seen the chip on his shoulder and the need to prove himself, almost seven years ago, and turned his attention to Sternwood. It was so obvious to see how easily the young man was grabbed by his pride.

It wasn't Jake's fault either, he realised that much, but that didn't exactly help the twist of guilt in his chest every single time the proof of him ruining another good man's life became so literally painfully obvious. He had fancied himself a good man once. That hadn't survived the first time he had pulled the trigger and seen a man fall through his scope.

He didn't owe Lewinsky anything, except his freedom. Now that Max had his back, they were even.

Theoretically.

Except that both of them seemed to realise that the young man would go right back to where Sternwood had just dragged him from if he took the unspoken offer to leave now.

What Jake hadn't realised was that he had been holding his breath as Max reached for the backpack, probably more tempted by the amount of money in there than anything else. A little bit of tension bled out of Jake's shoulders at the question and his breath came in a huff of amusement. "On the bed. You can take the sofa.", he replied, but the tone lacked the edge necessary to make it sound serious.

He shrugged out of his own jacket and pulled off his gloves, dropping both items onto the sofa before retrieving his phone and dialing Roy's number.

"We're out.", he said by way of greeting when his friend answered on the second ring.

(Max)

Max started to protest a very clear injustice — despite quietly acknowledging that, in all fairness, Sternwood *did* just risk life and limb to pull him out of a holding cell and was also physically taller, making the sofa an extremely uncomfortable spot to sleep for him, while Max could easily fit with some leg room to spare — however Sternwood had already moved on and started talking to one of his presumed associates.

The younger man man huffed for a moment, but the calm that came with the immediate danger being over was now bringing on a crash and he no longer had the energy to put up a fight. He had another hour or so by his estimation before the codeine’s effects wore off, and he was going to be feeling it if he didn’t take care of the building pressure.

It was the closest he could get to swallowing his pride when he said, loudly, over the conversation on the phone, “Fine… get your shit off my bed, then. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” After which he snatched up the medical supply boxes and disappeared into the bathroom. After three years, draining the fluid had become a ritual — painful, but preferable to the alternative if it went ignored. The dwindling remnants of the painkillers in his system took some of the edge off, at least.

He ejected the fluid into the toilet and capped the need, disposing of it in a bag-lined trashcan under the sink. Medical grade — either Sternwood had also thought of *that* or someone was just very meticulous about health standards. There was less of a limp to his walk when he reemerged, briefly catching Sternwood’s eye and looking away again — it was reminiscent of that awkward moment in the van, when he’d been caught in the same ritual and there was that unexpected look in the older man’s eye that didn’t quite have a name but it bordered on something between guilt and pity.

He didn’t like it, so he busied himself with exploring their small living space. Not a lot in the way of privacy, but it had a television and the sofa faced away from the bed, so at least there was a visual barrier when he wanted to sleep. There was a very small shelf with a few books on it, most, unsurprisingly, involving tactical knowledge, as well as a English-Egyptian Arabic dictionary. Further inspection of the fridge found food — a lot of it, mostly supplies for making sandwiches, things that would be filling without being overly time consuming or requiring a lot of preparation. Cans of pre-made soup in the cupboards, a few bottles of reasonably-priced wine, and a loaf of bread on the counter.

Cold beer in the fridge. He’d just thought of everything, hadn’t he? Max snatched up one of the bottles of beer, popped the cap off, and slumped on the sofa. And then it hit him all at once and he set the bottle down on the ground and hunched over his lap, holding his head in his hands and breathing heavily. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

He was so fucked.

(Jacob)

Roy had made a point of quietly and effectively updating Jacob on the other end of the operation. The distraction team had managed to escape all alive and with only a few scrapes and bruises and one graze from a bullet to show for it. As far as Roy knew, there had been only one casualty on the other side. A fact that drew a relieved sigh from Sternwood. This entire thing had already cost too many lives.

"Are you going to be alright?", Roy asked into the silence after that sigh.

"I will tell you on a week.", Jacob replied quietly, letting himself fall heavily onto the bed, one elbow bracing himself on his knee. "Or a month."

"Take your time, Jake.", a short, contemplative pause. Jacob knew Roy too well to speak. His friend was clearly planning to say something else. "Do you really plan to go through with this?"

In the past three days, Jake had asked himself the same question multiple times. And every single time he had put another piece of the plan in motion, the answer had been yes. Now that he was there, Lewinsky not thirty feet away, behind the door of the bathroom, he didn't quite know the answer.

"I don't have anything better to do.", he replied finally and Roy laughed.

"I could imagine a better retirement than babysitting a mouthy little ball of rage."

"Well, my original plan is missing one or two key ingredients now.", his tone was cool, even. The small twinge in his chest was quickly smothered. He didn't have time for that now. He'd had his grief, now he had a job to do.

"I'm sorry, Jake.", Roy replied quietly.

"Don't be.", Jacob replied the moment the door opened and he looked up to catch Lewinsky's eyes, just for a second before he couldn't stand it any longer. "I'll call you when we've arrived in France."

Whatever Roy had said then was cut off by Sternwood ending the call without a goodbye.

Instead, Sternwood watched Lewinsky prowl around the small apartment, silent and unmoving. For a few seconds, he was tempted to say something, but when Lewinsky left the room for the small kitchen, he pushed himself to his feet to clear his jacket and backpack off the sofa, instead moving it to the bed. He was busy pulling the clothes and money from it when the soft thud of Max hitting the sofa, quickly followed by strained breathing drew his attention back to his charge.

He recognised the signs of panic far too easily.

"Sit up.", he ordered and dropped the bundle of 50 pound notes he had been retrieving from the bag onto the bed. It only took three long strides for him to reach the sofa and two more to be able to kneel in front of Lewinsky. "Keep breathing like that. Good. Count to four on the inhale, hold for four, four on the exhale, hold again for four. Do that and you'll be fine."

He watched the young man, head tilted and green eyes dark and intent.

(Max)

It had come on so fast; one moment he’d been thinking he’d settle down, have a beer, try to decompress and sort through everything that had happened in the past hour, then the next it felt like his heart was pounding so hard he thought it would explode from his chest, his mouth felt dry, his lungs didn’t want to expand. Clinically, he knew the signs of a panic attack as well — he’d had a training on how to handle folk in the midst of one, for their safety and his own. Knowing what it was didn’t lessen the shaking or the overwhelming feeling of dread.

He didn’t want to sit up, didn’t want to obey that soft-spoken, too-calm voice coaching him to breathe like he had experience in the area. It brought to mind more uncomfortable realizations that the criminal was altogether human, with a lifetime of experiences that didn’t revolve entirely around theft and violence. Self-preservation kicked in, however, and he pulled his hands away from his face and gripped the sofa cushions on either side of him, pushing himself up to sit up mostly straight. It did help with the breathing, as much as he wanted to pull himself into a ball and completely disassociate from everything.

In, four, hold, four, out, four, hold, four. Forcing himself to follow a pattern slowed his mind down, and his heart followed suit. He was still shaking when he was finally able to open his eyes and meet Sternwood’s, but his breathing had slowed enough that he could speak.

“…I’m fine.” He wasn’t. His life was irreparably changed, and while it wasn’t *actually* his fault, this man was once again directly connected to those changes. Four days. He’d done stakeouts before, he knew how to occupy his time when he couldn’t leave a lookout post. Ironically enough, a few times had been lying in wait for exactly the person who was crouched before him, green eyes seeming to pierce right through his layers, searching for signs he’d collapse again.

“I’m fine,” he stated again, this time more firmly.

(Jacob)

For another few seconds, Sternwood stayed on the ground and continued his unwavering observation. He realised that it was a dismissal.

'Leave me alone.'

He couldn't fault the man. Despite what Lewinsky might think of him, he understood. The two of them were just fundamentally different in dealing with situations like these and maybe, it was also in part because Sternwood had been through this before, from Lewinsky's point of view. Close enough to this at least.

With an almost imperceptible nod, he pushed himself back up. "There is Zimovane in the nightstand. I'd take that over the beer.", he said before moving back around the sofa and to the large duffel bag by the bed, from which he pulled a stack of clothes. Without another word, he left for the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

When he'd deposited the clothes on the closed lid of the toilet, Jacob allowed himself to take a deep breath for the first time since the phonecall with Ruan. The last time he had heard his son's voice. The last words he had said to him had been a broken promise.

The knowledge hit him like a punch to the chest and once again his throat felt like an iron band was closing around it.

He pulled himself away from those thoughts almost violently, reaching out to yank the lever in the shower up and to the right, letting the water heat up while he pulled the black turtleneck he had been wearing over his head to drop it to the floor. Dark bruises littered his torso, most of which courtesy of the man now sitting on his sofa outside. Only one of them was fresh, a dark red and purple splotch on his chest where a baton had caught him by surprise before the wielder had gone down from a well placed elbow to the nose. All the other injuries had already gone from red and purple to black and purple and green and yellow. They'd stay with him for a while.

His trousers and pants joined the shirt and when he straightened back up, he caught sight of his own face in the mirror and for a second, Jacob stared. When exactly had be become so old? He looked sunken, hollow, haunted, he realised.

A rigorous shake of his head dragged him out of the reverie as he realised that the mirror had started to fog up with steam and he stepped under the shower, closed his eyes and concentrated on the sting of the scalding water on his skin.

When he stepped back out of the bathroom, he had switched his dark jeans and turtleneck for soft pyjama bottoms but hadn't bothered to pull on the t-shirt he had brought in with him. His skin was still damp and heated from the shower and he welcomed the cooler air in the main room of the apartment.

[mostleemorethansmut]

Life is for us: A Bit of the Past

“Stephanie, I’m fine,” argued MatPat, marching into the next room.

“Babe, you’re not fine,” his wife complained, following him into their bedroom. “You didn’t sleep on the plane, you were up all night researching, you were barely functioning at this morning’s meeting, I beat you AT A PLATFORMER on the stream, and now you’re going in for a recording? Matthew, you’re becoming a stranger in your own home.”

Matt sighed, standing half-in and half-out of the recording closet. “Stephanie, I’m doing this so we can enjoy our vacation in Alaska next week. It IS our anniversary.” He hopped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Which Won’t Be Any Fun If I Have A Husband Who Won’t Do Something Other Than SLEEP!” Stephanie groaned in exasperation, see there was no getting through to him. She slipped into her pajamas and tucked herself in. Maybe Matthew would join her…. Probably not, but the hope of that thought and her husband’s silky voice coming through the closet door helped put her under.

“Hello Internet!” greeted MatPat into the microphone. “Welcome to Game Theory, the show that does THEORIES, no more ill-fated speculations on games that haven’t come out yet; where today we’re taking another jab at Life is Strange, because its sequel was just announced, and staying relevant on the internet requires you to shamelessly promote every channel you have and ride google search trends.”

Matt start off ready. He was ready to speak all four of his scripts in a record time of three hours. A ten minute script usually took an hour to record. Even though he was brimming with energy when he came in, and he sustained it for a while with a Diet Coke, soon the Diet Coke ran dry and the heat of the warm closet caught up with him.

“We see Max go through the photos lots of times… Why-” a yawn slipped out.  "Why doesn’t she…“ Matt’s body was failing him. He propped himself up with a head with a shirt awhile ago, which turned out to be a dangerous move. His head was slowly falling into the substitute pillow and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Soon enough, he was fast asleep.

*

Matt slowly opened his eyes. He decided to skip the recording for a bit and gt some food. However, when he left the closet, there was something on his bed. It looked like Stephanie was taking a trip down memory lane. He flipped through the photo album, looking at all of their still memories.

He picked up a bag that was lying on the bed. In it was shards of glass. He smiled. The day he’d wanted to propose to Stephanie she leaned on a mirror and smashed it. She was about to cry, fearing she’d ruined everything, but he pretended to pick up the pieces and proposed to her on the spot. They kept the shards of the mirror as a memento.

He noticed a photo in the memory book. It was of him and Steph. Well, mostly him, some of Steph. It was him, grinning like a fool and Stephy hiding her face in his neck. He remembered that photo. He’d taken it the morning he’d proposed.

God, Stephanie looked gorgeous. Neither of them were wearing anything, but the bed sheets were covering the rest of them. Matt grinned as he re-heard her laughter. Audible. As if she was… Matt looked around, but saw no one.

He turned back to the photo. It had become a bit blurry. Matt frowned and focused on the photo more. The world seemed to blur. His mind filled with all of the pictures they’d taken. Them getting married, moving out of New York, finishing unpacking, the first panel he’d ever visited… Within seconds he was in the past. Holding the camera as he took the picture.

"Stahp….” Stephanie groaned into his shoulder. “It’s embarrassing.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile. Having his wife by his side certainly made the transition through time and space easier. He pulled her close to him. But she wasn’t his wife yet. That would all change, today.

The morning began as any would. Stephanie got ready while Matt helped. With a quick peck on the lips, Steph headed out and Matt set to work. He went to work turning the apartment into- He froze. He grabbed his phone and punched a number, speed dial number 7. “Micheal, I need a favor, can you keep Stephanie distracted for the day?”

*

Matthew scanned the room “She’ll come through this door,”  he worked through mentally. “I’ll direct through Duke University around to New York, and we’ll finish in the bedroom with-”

He heard someone coming down the hallway. He zoomed to the doorway. Stephanie was putting in the key… turning the lock… boy this woman was slow… opening the door…

“Bye,” Stephanie called to someone down the hall, presumably Micheal. She swung the door completely open and was startled by Matt. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Stand there,” instructed MatPat, closing the door behind her. He took off her coat and hung it up. “Now,” he directed, taking her by the hand, “today is our 1,500 day together. And it’s been a journey.” He showed her their picture memories of them at Duke University, starting with the shot of her covering her face with him.

Stephanie was surprised that he’d taken the time to do this. She gasped and looked through the pictures of the two of them. There was the picture of them graduating, them trying to keep a long distance romance, and the picture he’d taken of her before sprinting into her arms at the airport when she’d finally arrived at New York.

“Oh my gosh,” she sighed, giving him a kiss. “I can’t believe you put so much time into this little retrospective.”

“Actually,” Matt grinned, grabbing her wrist and leading her into the room with the projector set up in it. “We still have one more thing to get through.”

Matt took her into the room and started up the film. He with a giggle he offered her some popcorn to watch with. Part of the way in there his past-self began recording Pride and Prejudice. Matt made a quick excuse, something like ‘more butter,’ and rushed from the room.

He watched through the crack in the door to see her stand up with awe. It was the section of the video where the words on the screen displayed, “at the end of this video, I would propose to you.”

Matt watched for the next four minutes as Steph stood and watched the bright blinking lights, showing the best of their relationship. Matt could see the light sparkling by her eyes. She was crying. Stephanie wiped her nose. Yep, definitely crying.

As the last of the song played, Matt stepped in and recited the last lines of the video. “I just wanted it to be perfect. Then I realized it’s been perfect all along.”

Matt got down on one knee and pulled out the beautiful engagement ring he’d spent so much time saving up for. “Stephanie, my love,” he finished. “Will you merry me? Please?”

Stephanie was filled with tears and rushed down to give him a hug. “Oh Matthew,” she sobbed with joy. “I will.”

Matthew’s vision zoomed out of the altered memory. He was re-greeted to the same memories. Them getting married, moving out of New York, finishing unpacking, the first panel he’d ever visited… Strange, he’d changed such a major part of his life, yet nothing big actually changed in the grand scheme of things.

Then again, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

*

Matt awoke in the closet. He couldn’t tell if what he’d just experienced was reality, or a dream. But he loved it just the same.

Matt stood up and climbed out of the closet. He looked over at Stephanie. “Steph,” he called softly, “are you awake.”

Stephanie shifted in bed. “Yes Matt. Are you coming to bed.”

Matt practically flew onto the bed and wrapped her up in his. Stephanie was a bit startled, but was a bit pushed into her as he nuzzled up with her. “I’m glad you came to your senses,” she reasoned.

Matt just pushed in closer to her neck. “I’m just so happy that you’re with me. Just needed to be reminded.”

Stephanie didn’t know what he was talking about, but she just snuggled happily anyway. She fell asleep in his arms.