#if you don't have whatever platform it's streaming on

[eyelambspider]

Stream Starting Soon! || COD Hcs

⤷ summary : 141 just so happens to watch some of your streams !

┊pairing : tf141 x twitchstreamer!reader ┊content warning : fluff, pining, sfw, swearing (by me smh) ┊a/n : again, a prompt recommended by @lady-boketto that had me in a chokehold

honestly, who knows how it starts... but one day gaz and soap figure they've both 'off-handedly' seen one of your clips and liked you.

the two of them talk more about your streams after that.

a murmur between two friends... occasionally holding their phones up to show each other new clips and vods of yours...

maybe they both secretly sub to your channel without the other knowing...

whatever the two of them 'chat' about though, ghost and price initially don't pay them much mind

until soap finally shoves the phone into ghosts face and forces the masked man to watch

ghost actually quirks the smallest grin under his mask at one of your clips

its you playing a horror game and getting scared (he loves your horror streams)

price on the other hand, picks up the chatter about you and fills in the blanks himself

each of them thinks your cute, with ghost and price usually having their eyes on your webcam instead of... whatever game you're playing

Once, price caught the three of them huddled together. supposed to be gearing up for a mission. And instead its Soap and Gaz sitting shoulder to shoulder, snickering to themselves and nudging each other knowingly while Ghost stands, glancing occasionally over their shoulders while pretending not to care. When caught, they expect price to scold them, but the captain just sighs and nods "Come on then, lets see it"

they all watch it.

soap actually gifts some subs to you, just to rub it in everyone's faces that you thanked him and said his name

yes, he plays the clip to annoy the others. its saved in his phone "just for that reason"

ghost and gaz eventually follow you on your other platforms, but only gaz would bring it up in conversation

ghost cannot be caught looking personally at your stuff

price on the other hand, just likes to relax on his off days. remembering how calming your voice is when you're 'just chatting' or playing something relaxing and falls asleep with your streams playing in the background

(opening fan mail) soap would send a gag gift to you (him and ghost snorting as they watch you open it)

ghost would get you a stuffed animal/plushie, which he's surprised to learn that the little thing is still sitting on your desk, in full view of the webcam.

they all think its fucking hilarious when you rage, slam shit, or just turn away to cool off

(hear me out) all their phones pinging-in sync-to notify that your stream is starting...

[ohgeeeznotagain]

Fear Not the Fire

Greetings, fellow humans! Insert "finally remembered our password" jokes here 🤓. In the mad dash to finish our album last year and start promoting it, we sort of completely forgot to do anything with this platform. I don't know how many of you keep tabs on Oh Geeez, Not Again music on Tumblr, but if that's you - we're glad you're here and we hope you're doing ok. 🙂 Wanted to catch you up to speed on the big events of our expedition since last June.

1. Our album MAPMAKER is out now! 🗺️

Telling the story of leaving the comforts of home for the limitless dangers and possibilities of the forest. MAPMAKER is a coming of age story that at some point all of us must face.

Along the way, you’ll find joy, defeat, fear, acceptance, and maybe even defy the odds and get the happy ending you’ve always dreamed of. But the only way to find out is to start. To leave behind the familiar and face the unknown. 

Pack your boots and jacket, and put a song in your heart. Your expedition departs now 🌲

Listen to MAPMAKER on all platforms here:

2. We played our first headlining show!!

To celebrate the release of MAPMAKER, we were honored to take the stage at Anodyne Coffee for our first-ever headlining show! It was an amazing night, and we were grateful to share the moment with so many of our friends!

We captured the moment in our latest music video. Catch the video for "Mapmaker" - the album's title track - right here:

3. Our year-end Livestream from Park Street

To close out 2024, we had the opportunity to go live on YouTube from Port Washington's Park Street studios. It was an honor to spend the afternoon with the fine folks at Park Street and virtually send out the year of MAPMAKER with friends from around the world!

Tune in to the full stream here:

4. WE'RE GOING ON TOUR!!! 🚐

We're so excited to announce that we'll be taking the Oh Geeez, Not Again expedition to more folks than ever before this year! Our first mini BLAZE A TRAIL tour kicks off on April 1, and we hope that we'll get to see YOU there! While this is a small start, we hope that it will lead to bigger things down the road. It is our goal to bring our expedition to the whole world some day!

Tickets and current information are listed here on our all-new website. Info will be updated as final ticket links become available! Hope to see you on the road:

Finally, as 2025 looks to be a year of upheaval around the world, we hope that our music can be a space of inspiration for you wherever you are on your journey. We're so fortunate to have such a diverse and creative group of friends and followers who we've met through our music, and the whole message of MAPMAKER is finding a way to hold onto your dreams and passions in a world that wants to strike them down. Whatever it is that you're getting up for every day, I hope that it sustains you through the times of doubt and fear. And whenever the monsters should find you, we hope you hear the words of "Conifer":

Fear not the fire, the glowing eyes They deal delusion, they seek divides But should they trap you, the trees will give you rest

I hope that our music can be one of those sheltering trees for you. We make these songs for all of you, and if they inspire you to keep creating, believing, or simply existing, then that's the greatest honor to us.

Safe travels, - Sean 🧡

[uwudonoodle]

I just saw When Marnie was There for the first time. I might have ugly cried at the end. It's not every day you get to see a Ghibli movie for the first time.

[ismyteadoneyet]

I've ranted a whole lot about the importance of physical media in the past. I love physical media. I have a CD and vinyl collection of stuff from my favorite bands, and am currently getting back into reading and found I vastly prefer physical books over both ebooks and audiobooks. I got the entire DVD box of ATLA last year just so that I can watch it whenever I like.

But it took me until today to realize that the reason why is because of how badly all these digital streaming service-platforms have affected me.

Like, I found art from a webcomic a while ago that I thought looked really interesting, but have been putting off reading the thing for MONTHS. I couldn't quite put my finger on why until I found out yesterday that there are printed, physical copies for sale of the entire webcomic itself in book format. And despite absolutely insane shipping costs, I could at some point buy it, and keep it.

And now I finally started reading it, and I'm loving it.

Turns out, I would rather put myself through sickening, nauseating FOMO than risk the piece of media getting taken off the platform it's available on in the middle of me reading/watching it.

What the fuck.

[hollylovely]

sooooo just a lil confession

i haven't watched jimmy's smp streams and it's honestly because of that one newlife stream where scott teleports jimmy where jimmy gets stuck and dies

now i maybe just projecting onto jimmy but i really do think he got really panicked that he became unable to think clearly at the time and wasn't able to pull out his shovel (which was in his hotbar) to dig out

i also think that at the time, his body (in this case, his fingers/hand on the mouse) was moving faster than he could think which may be also why he trued to use his pickaxe instead of his shovel

and i genuinely could feel his disappointment right after his unsuccessful attempt at digging himself out

i got upset when, after he got revived/respawned, scott and the others (i can't remember if it was just scott but i'll put the others there as well) (also i refuse to watch that stream again) immediately went on about why he didn't get himself out and why he left himself die (although scott apologized then, i still felt like they were entirely blaming jimmy only here)

then i got even more upset when i saw the chat filled with "YOU HAD A SHOVEL IN YOUR HOTBAR!!!" and "why did you use a pickaxe lol" and the vod's comment section also had comments like that and comments basically saying "it's literally jimmy's fault lol" and "it's your fault jim, you had a shovel in your hotbar" (so again, blaming jimmy here)

uhhhh again, i maybe projecting only but yeah, i refuse to watch another smp livestream after that incident (i've also been kind of on and off when it comes to watching the streams during esmp2 because of the toy jokes and all that) (i think this newlife stream may have been the last straw for me??? idk)

[neverbelessthan]

Just saw a post quoting that HBO douchebag on how they're trying to figure out if it makes sense to renew for s3 based on bullshit metrics.

How about you crunch the data on how many people dropped their Max or Binge subscriptions the same day s2 finished fucking airing.

[chaoticwriting]

Streamer Danny

Everyone has a hobby or something they like to do. For Cass, that is watching Danny's stream. She doesn't know why but Danny's voices are very soothing and pleasant to hear. And it's not even just her that thought that. Every single one of Danny's fans say the same thing.

It is also a plus that Danny always talks using simple English. It makes it easier for her to learn how to speak and even read. Her favorite streams are the streams where Danny just sits and chats with the viewers. Not to say she doesn't like the other contents but there is just something nice to hear him answer her questions about himself.

No. She totally doesn't have a crush on that guy Steph. He doesn't even know her. How can she have a crush on someone that she never met before.

One thing she takes notes is the concerning things Danny sometimes says online. Like how he is half dead. Or something about a creepy godfather or something. Cass tries to look into him more with Tim's help (No Tim. She doesn't have a crush on this guy. And it's not creepy at all to stalk his personal information like this.) but finds practically nothing online about him except for his streaming channel and his hometown being somewhere in Illinois.

Danny also sometimes brings in guests to either interview or play video games with. There is Tucker, tech geek. He apparently is the one that sets up Danny's devices so that he can stream easily. Then there is Sam. His ex-girlfriend best friend. They talk about a lot of things mostly plants and ecosystems. There are also his sisters. Ellie is also a recurring guest. She often comes on stream and shares her travel experience and tips when traveling. Then there is Jazz who works as a psychiatrist at Arkham. And also is apparently working part-time for Red Hood.

Cass almost goes crazy when she hears that. She contemplates going to Jason to blackmail ask Jason to introduce Danny to her. Cass barely hesitates and the next thing anyone knows, Cass is inside Jason's apartment sitting on his couch nibbling on the freshly baked cookies Jason has on his counter.

Jason: *Walks out from his bedroom* Wtf! Where the hell did you come from?

Cass: *Stares*

Jason: Uggh. What the hell do you want?

Cass: Do you know Jazz?

Jason: *Tense* Why do you want to know?

Cass: Introduce me to her brother.

Jason: Danny? Why the hell do you wanna meet her?

Cass: A fan.

Jason: A fan? A fan of what? Wait. Danny did do the live streaming shit. Are you talking about that?

Cass: *Nods*

Jason: Whatever. Just don't fucking enter my house like that next time. I will call you to tell you when he is free.

Cass: *Smiles* Thank you.

Jason: Yeah yeah.

-Other place-

Danny: And that's it for today's stream people. I think I can stream again tomorrow but let's see if plans can keep up with change.

Chat: We want you to sing!

Danny: I will think about it in the next stream. Anyway see you later guys.

Chat: Bye!

Turning off the stream, Danny tiredly releases a sigh. Danny doesn't know why everyone wants him to sing. As far as Danny remembers, his voice has always been okay at best. He remembers getting mocked by Dash and his group when they participated in a choir when they were 10. Since then, Danny swears that he will never sing again.

What Danny likes though is dancing. Especially, ballet. He always likes the way the dancer expresses their emotions through body movements. The way they express anger, sadness, happiness and even love. When he becomes a ghost, he gets even better at reading those using ghost speak. Danny dreams of one day being able to dance in front of an audience of hundreds.

Opening a video platform website, Danny searches for a specific ballet group that he encounters. The group has a specific dancer that is amazing at expressing her emotions through dance.

Danny watches longingly hoping he could one day dance like that, or even dance with her. Suddenly a knock comes from his door.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Can we talk?

[firesnap]

This is the only post I will be writing in regards to Wilbur Soot's statement.

It was a shit apology. I'm not going over that. We can analyze it to death but it absolutely reads like the apology of someone who is now represented by some label's legal team. The only thing I'm thankful for is that he did not release text messages between him and Shelby in some attempt to distract people. She doesn't deserve that embarrassment.

But, I really hope you read this, I need you to stop treating this like a party. I need you to stop giving every CC that speaks up about this a hit post or hit tweet by liking it.

Almost none of these people liked a single post of Shelby's or uttered the words "I'm so sorry for what Shelby went through" They waited until it was safe to say something. They waited until they could write a "coming in with a steel chair reply." They waited until they knew it would look good.

They revealed that Wilbur has always been manipulative, a narcissist a bully and mean to his friends. They revealed they've always thought he was a bad person. They've revealed that they don't think he's taking accountability while they stayed silent.

And not just silent for a few days. Some of these people are saying they knew for better for weeks, months, years that he was a horrible person. And they said nothing. They let people spend time and money and energy on a community of a person they knew was dangerous and cruel and they said nothing.

They didn't need Shelby Shubble to come forward and say how bad of a person Wilbur Soot was. They didn't need Shelby's story, if they thought he was a bad person, to not appear in videos with him or be in a group channel with him or mention him on stream or tease content with him or be on Anvil Cards or follow him on all social media platforms.

But they did anyway because, to these content creators, it's better to be silent and let a bad person flourish than cause "drama" online.

These people do not give fuck. I need you all to please take this advice that none of these online creators are worth the time and energy you put into them. You don't know what else they're sitting on. You don't know what they've done. You are lying to yourself, right now, if you think Phil or Tommy or Tubbo or Jack or whoever your current fave is wouldn't have been fine saying nothing if Shelby hadn't spoke first. You're lying to yourself if you think whatever new smp or content creator group you're currently into doesn't have horrible shit that they're all choosing to ignore.

The amount of manipulation required by these content creators to maintain the devotion and investment of their communities is horrific.

Do not trust your mental well being, your comfort, your whatever to these people. Any of them.

[kingofthewilderwest]

To everyone who asked, and to everyone who didn't:

Yes. I have somewhere between 1,000 and 2,000 of TwoSet's videos, all in HD quality. LINK BELOW

Earlier this year in 2024, I downloaded every single TwoSet Violin public video from their YouTube and scoured other sites like Bilibili and Facebook to get videos they'd deleted from at least one platform. My goal was to make some fandom compilation videos that'd require going through every video.

I do not have the last few months of 2024 (which I'm kicking myself for... I literally almost did a download update on SUNDAY). But I have almost everything.

2 mil, 3 mil, 4 mil, Fantasia, Hilary Hahn or Ray Chen collabs, Producer Shaun, professional versus beginner, violin charades, that cheeky skit you shared on Facebook in 2016

Their world tour VODs, including my own personal captures of their latest VOD stream

Some of the content from their Facebook kickstarter livestreams that I found from other fans.

I've been collecting all their TikTok videos currently, too. I've downloaded a spattering of their Instagram stories from 2024 and might have a small collection of recent Instagram videos, too.

I do not have everything, but I have a fuckton and I want to share it with as many people as possible, and collaborate with as many people as possible to fill in the missing pieces.

Please contact me if you have your own archives or know people working on other archives. I'm talking with a few people about starting a Google Drive project, but I don't know the big names in the TSV fandom and thus could be missing out on people who've done a lot of other work

It's more likely that this will clear over in the coming days / weeks / month / whatever and we'll have their official channel again. I'm still going to keep believing that. But it doesn't erase the importance of making sure the media we love doesn't become lost media. I have respect for content creators to monitor what does and doesn't stay on their platform, but for the sake of preservation of media, for the sake of helping a community, I want to make sure this archive is in place and widely accessible to TwoSetters.

My current cloud server is VERY MUCH a work in progress. I am in the middle of an extremely busy week and trying to do this around an office job and a half. It will take me time to upload everything, and even more time to organize everything. But the cloud server link is active, and I will keep people updated about the progress of my archiving through a PDF text file (not yet uploaded) in said cloud. If I collaborate with people for Google Drive systems, if I do other backups, I will let people know there and on my other social media accounts.

I am new and naive to Terabox. I started with Terabox because it's free to upload up to a terabyte of content. I think it should be free to download everything in full quality, but I don't know. People should inform me how it works. It's currently -- I'm sorry -- VERY poorly organized and requires Scrolling (TM), but short of that issue (which will be fixed with organization), I hope it gets people what they need.

Also: Reddit has suspended me for a few days lol (really I'm getting a slap on the wrist for how blatantly I was marching about), so if people want to start spreading this link to others in private chats elsewhere with known TwoSetters, the more the merrier! The purpose of this is to be a resource, either short-term or long-term.

[3liza]

tumblr live should not be this mysterious

the plug-n-play streaming package that Tumblr installed as "Tumblr Live" is a white label product from a company called Livebox (developed by the Meet Group, subsidary of Parshipmeet), who have a homepage riddled with spelling errors and purport to operate the dating apps Meet Me (formerly My Yearbook), Skout, Tagged, and Growlr, all of which appear to be identical except for Growlr, which is specifically for gay men. all of them are just dating apps with a livestreaming feature. i would venture a guess based on the architecture that Livebox is also powering Superlive, which is the only one of these I have any experience with. it's popular with camgirls outside of the USA, especially in countries where full nude camming is illegal.

i don't really understand what livestreaming has to do with dating apps and don't know anyone who uses these platforms for anything. i assume some of it is just sex work, some of it is just ad space, lots of data brokering, and judging by the performance issues the users complain about, possibly crypto mining(???).

looking through the app pages on the Play store shows the same reviews for every single one of them: app crashes constantly, bans are arbitrary, support is no help, the apps drain your phone battery suspiciously quickly, and there are about 20 bots for every real person profile. i dont know what the exact dates are because i cant see site analytics and dont know what the Live development schedule was, but it's interesting that the sudden increase in porn bot activity on tumblr seems to roughly overlap with the Tumblr Live development and implementation, at least from a tumblr user perspective.

i dont know where the strangers in the Tumblr Live bar are streaming from, in terms of what you would consider their "home network". im guessing, but it really looks to me like they are streaming on whatever familiar platform they've got an audience on, and then being split-streamed to Tumblr. i've been meaning to sit in one of the popular streams and check usernames of audiencemembers, because my guess is that most of the audience are not going to have accounts here either. many of the streamers ive checked do not have tumblr accounts. some of them have tumblr accounts, but most of those accounts appear perfunctory: only a few months old, completely impersonal reblogs from the trending tab (you know the type), instagram-type language and general aspirational influencer stuff, which absolutely does not exist on tumblr organically because this site does not have market share for sponsored products OR a userbase with disposable income, it's a waste of time for an instagram model type to post here.

i've tried to talk to these streamers once or twice about this stuff but didn't get anywhere, and it would be rude to press the issue. but that is probably the next step.

[cr-aspec-fest]

CR Aspec Fest - Info & FAQs!

The Critical Role Aspec Fest is a month-long fanwork fest (with a prompt for each week) celebrating aromantic-spectrum and asexual-spectrum experiences!

Schedule and Prompts

WEEK 1 (Feb 1st-7th): Aro-spec

WEEK 2 (Feb 8th-14th): Ace-spec

WEEK 3 (Feb 15th-21st): Unconventional relationships

WEEK 4 (Feb 22nd-28th): Free week! Whatever your heart desires.

FAQs

(if something isn't answered here, please feel free to send an ask or message!)

Can I make something about a character being demisexual or demiromantic or (insert other label)? Can I make something about a character who's straight?

Absolutely - please do! Aspec is a very broad umbrella term, and this event is all about celebrating a variety of experiences that aren't well-represented in media. If it feels right to you, go for it. I'm not going to exclude any works from the fest just because they aren't relatable to me.

What types of fanworks can I make for the fest?

Anything! Be that fanfiction, fanart, meta, gifsets, edits etc. - everything is welcome! If you're writing fanfiction, you're encouraged to post to the AO3 collection here.

Which Critical Role characters can I make fanworks about?

Anyone in anything they've streamed - so the main campaigns, EXUs, Candela Obscura, Daggerheart or other oneshots!

Do I need to be aspec to join?

Definitely not, as long as you're coming in with the mindset of being respectful of our experiences. For one, I'm aromantic but not ace-spec - so making works about ace-spec experiences is naturally going to be more difficult for me, but entirely doable with a little bit of research! I think it's a great way to learn about others.

Why February? Why a whole month?

Yes, there are plenty of aspec weeks hosted in other fandoms, which are great and the inspiration for this event! But personally, I am both slow and busy, so making just one thing per week is much more achievable for me. I chose February because Aromantic Awareness Week is the week after Valentine's day, and this fest was originally going to take place during that time. I'm also unaware of any other fandom events happening in February (although please let me know otherwise, just for my own interest!). The fact that February splits so nicely into 4 whole weeks is an added bonus!

Would you like people to share around the existence of this fest?

(Okay, maybe this one's a bit of a cheat.) Yes please! Even if you don't plan on taking part, getting eyes on the existence of this event would be wonderful. This is the first fandom event I've ever hosted, and I don't have a huge platform among fic writers, who are likely the largest contingent of nerds (lovingly) who'd be interested in taking part in an event like this.

Other Rules

Please don't bash any ships or headcanons you don't like! Part of the fun of fandom is seeing the broad range of possible interpretations, and I'd always rather foster a sense of community rather than opposition.

Suggestive, NSFW and whump content is fully allowed, but must be tagged correctly for whatever platform you're posting on.

Fanworks should be focused on aspec experiences or characters, but other topics or characters can totally be included, and these experiences don't have to be super clear or well-labelled in-text (gods know that real-life experiences are often opaque and confusing) - it's your intention that matters. This is up to your discretion, really. As with the rule of thumb for AO3 tagging - if someone was viewing this for aspec content, would they be disappointed? If so, you can always rework it, or post it outside of this fest.

This account will be reblogging every fanwork made for the fest - just remember to tag us, and use the #CRAspecFest tag! If you don't have a tumblr account and want a post about your work to be included, send a message.

There'll be more posts on this account with ideas for how to approach the prompts, plus reminders at the start of each week, tagged #CRAspecFestPosts. All submission reblogs will be tagged #CRAspecFestWorks.

[xoxoemynn]

For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

[pookietv]

number one fan | george clarke

this was requested! and i couldn't resist the end lmao so !!

george had always been supportive. he liked to consider himself his friends biggest fans, always turning up to whatever may be important to them, from arthur's tours, to his home friends graduations, he always wanted to be there and be able to show his pride in the people in his life.

so when he began dating a singer, it was to no one's surprise that he became the biggest fan out there.

your music a staple of the household, to the point where an intervention was called by arthur and chris.

"geooooorge can we not put on different music now?" chris said with a slight smile on his face as he rolled his eyes jokingly.

"you know we love y/n's music but george, this is a little excessive," arthur agreed, giggling to himself a little.

"just let this song finish! its the best one," he protested whilst cooking at the kitchen island, earning a joking groan from arthur.

"i'm convinced that just by living in this house we may know her lyrics better then she knows them," chris laughed, and george just shrugged with a mockingly innocent look.

when you first got signed by a manager, changing from original songs uploaded to youtube to a real publishing plan.

"george?" you grinned to yourself as you went into his room, having been let in by arthur, seeing him sat at his desk, seeing you and pulling his headphones off his head.

"hey, you! didn't know you were coming around today," he said, standing to press a quick kiss to your hairline, and you could barely stop yourself grinning at him like the cheshire cat.

"what's that look for?" he asked as he pulled away, quirking his head slightly as a small smile approached his face too.

"i got offered to be signed! by a real label! they actually want me to be under their label!" you practically babbled out, watching george's grin grow wider before wrapping you in a hug, practically lifting you from the ground.

"no way! that's amazing, darling," he muffled into your hair, his arms around your torso only wrapping tighter, "i'm so so so proud," he beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

"thank you george," you smiled back, your cheeks glazed with red, "you've been so supportive, and i appreciate it so much,"

"so, now can i convince you to write a whole album about your biggest fan?" he teased, and you playfully pushed his chest.

"well, maybe i could write a song for arthur, i mean he was so lovely letting me open for his tour, he definitely has been a loyal fan..." you teased in return, pretending to ponder, causing george to mock pout.

"hey, hello, i am your biggest fan you muppet!"

when your first album released, and it was all george could yap about for at least a month afterwards.

when he featured on his bach and arthur's podcast? practically the first thing to leave his mouth.

"yeah, so i've not been up to too much, y/n was really busy recently so we decided now she's done and the album's released, we might try and go away somewhere - the album's out now on all streaming platforms! go listen, she's brill," he says with a cheesy grin on his face.

"what was the timer on george mentioning y/n there? under five minutes?" bach laughed, george's face going slightly red as he shrugged.

"it is a good album, in his defence," arthur laughed a little.

when he's in one of chris' videos? practically every goal he scored was backdropped by the beat change of one of your songs.

"if you miss this one, we're not letting you aux the flat for a week," chris chided with a grin, and george rolled his eyes as he placed the ball down, lining it up and kicking it in.

"see? he's the biggest fan around! the second the thought of not playing y/n's new album 24/7 is unthinkable to george," arthur laughed, before continuing, "i don't even live with you guys and i think i've heard y/n's music more times then i have actually met her in person."

going to your first big concert?

you had offered him to be backstage, but he had said no - of course he wanted to be in the front, seeing you perform like he was anyone else, he wanted to see you properly, from the floor.

"you're sure you don't wanna be backstage?" you had asked him on facetime earlier that day, when you were already at the venue for sound checks but he had assured you no.

"we're all coming in the pit, we've gotta see it like a normal concert!" he grinned down the phone, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you at least gonna stand at the back so you guys don't get like, mobbed or squashed or something? 'cause people might ask for photos," you said, slightly concerned for him, but he just shook his head.

"we can take photos afterwards with whoever wants one - i'm not standing at the back and barely seeing anything just cause some people may try and be rude and take photos with us whilst you're performing, that's not fair to you," he hummed slightly down the phone, "plus, chris wouldn't be able to see from the back and you know that," he laughed a little at his own joke

you cracked a small smile as you shook your head, "you're so stubborn, george, you know that?"

and when he showed up to the concert, with both of the arthurs and chris, all stood as close to the front as they could be, and before you could even notice anything else, you saw george's shit eating grin at his shirt, which he wore in a teasing sort of pride, that just said 'i fucked the singer', and as he saw your eyes roll, you could hear his laugh from the crowd.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 7.7k

CHAPTER TWO:

A week passes in a blur of days spent shopping and late nights half-heartedly scrolling through streaming platforms. You and Ava have mostly been lying low, letting the dust settle after the chaotic party where you first ran into Chris again. Still, life trudges on—your breakup wounds scab over bit by bit, and Chris remains a frustrating fixture you occasionally see, thanks to Matt’s involvement with Ava.

Tonight, though, you’re supposed to forget about all that.

Ava bounces into your bedroom, brandishing a bottle of cheap vodka like it’s her prized possession. “Guess who scored a last-minute invite to that frat party?” she singsongs, tapping her foot in excitement. “You and me, babes. I heard it’s super fun—though it might be more about the free booze than anything.”

You glance up from your phone, arching an eyebrow. “Isn’t this the college we were thinking of applying to after our gap year?”

She grins, tossing you a crop top of the school’s logo. “Exactly. Consider it… research.”

Thirty minutes later after you prettied up, you’re in a cramped Uber, weaving through Boston streets toward the campus. The plan is simple: have fun, dance a little, maybe scope out the scene for next year. Even so, you can’t help the tiny flutter in your stomach. A new environment, new faces. It feels like a reset you didn’t realize you needed.

The frat house is exactly what you’d expect: loud music vibrating through the floorboards, red Solo cups strewn over every flat surface, sweaty clusters of students dancing as if finals don’t exist. Ava wastes no time finding the makeshift bar—a battered folding table stacked with punch bowls and half-empty liquor bottles.

“Cheers,” she declares, handing you a neon cup of something fruity and suspiciously strong.

One drink turns into two, and by the d of college jungle juicethird, the lights start to blur around the edges. You can’t remember the last time you let loose like this, your head pleasantly spinning as you sway with Ava to whatever pop remix is thundering through the speakers.

At some point, you both end up on a sticky leather couch, howling with laughter over absolutely nothing. An extremely tall, extremely confident frat boy attempts to flirt with Ava by demonstrating his “epic” ability to chug from a funnel—only to spill half of it on his shirt. You nearly fall off the couch laughing, tears streaming down your face.

Then Ava tugs you outside to the porch for some fresher air, the two of you leaning over the railing like you might topple right off it. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, and your phone is dangerously close to slipping from your back pocket.

“This is so fun,” Ava squeals, throwing her arms around you in a giggly hug. “I needed a night like this.”

A warm, liquor-fueled glow blooms in your chest. “Same,” you admit, hugging her back. “No drama, no messy ex situations, no—”

A shrill ringtone interrupts you, and Ava fumbles for her phone. She squints at the screen, then tosses it aside to the porch bench in favor of gulping more punch straight from your cup. “Ugh, telemarketer,” she mutters, ignoring it.

Unbeknownst to either of you, the phone somehow butt-dials Matt, whose name flashes on the screen before the call timer starts ticking.

You’re both oblivious to this as you keep giggling and shouting random observations about the party, the music, the questionable bathroom lines. Ava’s volume goes up a notch with every passing second.

“Dude, I swear—this is the best night!” Ava yells, dancing in place with no music outside. “I love you, girl—best friend forever, woo!”

Inside the phone pressed awkwardly beneath her leg, Matt’s eyes are probably widening in alarm at the yelling. He can only hear snippets of your conversation—loud shrieks, bursts of laughter, and occasional words like “dangerous,” “drunk,” or “someone fell over.”

Meanwhile, Matt is in the passenger seat of his car, scrolling through social media as Chris drives back from them dropping Nick at the airport. He was going to visit a film college in LA. It’s already late, and they’re stuck in some mild traffic near the outskirts of the campus you and ava were partying at.

Matt’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen: sweetheart. Heart kicking up in concern, he answers.

“Ava?” he asks. But instead of a coherent response, he hears yelling, heavy bass, and what sounds suspiciously like you two shrieking.

“Hello? Ava?” Matt’s voice grows urgent as he picks out phrases like “Oh my God!” and “We’re so hammered!”

He pales. “Chris, something’s up. Ava’s in trouble, or, or I don’t know—they’re screaming and…”

Chris cuts in “Y/N is there too?” 

Matt just nods.

Chris frowns, gripping the steering wheel. “What do you mean, trouble?”

Matt toggles the screen to see Ava’s location. “They’re at some frat house at the college campus only a few miles from us right now. If they’re drunk and something went wrong…” He doesn’t finish, anxiety threading through his voice.

Chris curses under his breath and flips the turn signal, pulling a uturn. “Fuck. We’ll go check it out.”

Ten minutes later, you and Ava are back inside, rummaging for jackets you drunkenly tossed somewhere. The world tilts with every step, but you’re not worried—this all feels like good, harmless fun.

Then the front door bursts open, and Matt’s familiar voice booms through the chatter: “Ava? Y/N?”

Ava whips around, nearly tripping over someone’s foot. “Matt!” she cries happily, stumbling toward him. “Oh my God, you came to party too?”

He catches her, relief and frustration mingling on his face. “I thought you were in danger. You butt-dialed me, screaming your head off.”

“Huh?” Ava tilts her head, eyes unfocused. “I… butt-dialed?”

Behind Matt, Chriss hovers in the doorway, scanning the chaotic living room with furrowed brows. You lock eyes with Chris briefly, your buzz making everything feel a little surreal.

Chris looks halfway between annoyed and relieved. His gaze flicks over you—messy hair, glazed eyes. He shakes his head. “You two sure know how to get yourselves in trouble.”

Ava only giggles, patting Matt’s chest. “We’re not in trouble, you big worrywart! We were having fun.”

Matt sighs, then glances at Chris. “Let’s just get them out of here, okay?”

In a blur, you’re ushered out of the stuffy frat house and into Chris’s car. Ava clings to Matt in the back seat, slurring apologies and jokes in equal measure. 

You decide not to sit shotgun with Chris. That leaves you squished in the middle of the back seat, half-leaning against Ava, half avoiding Chris’s side glances in the rearview mirror. The closeness and the alcoholic haze mix into a swirl of heightened awareness.

“Next time you decide to party, maybe don’t dial Matt in the middle of it,” Chris mutters, catching your eye in the mirror again. “We thought you were being attacked or something.”

You bristle at his tone—he sounds equal parts concerned and reprimanding. “We’re fine,” you snap, words slightly slurred. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, well,” he huffs, tightening his grip on the wheel, “you scared the crap out of him. And me.”

Matt’s arms are wrapped around Ava, who’s busy giggling into his shirt. “You guys have no idea how panicked I was,” he mutters, relief evident now that he sees you’re both physically okay.

As the car zips through the city streets, passing bright storefronts and bars, your eyelids grow heavier. The combined warmth of the car’s heater, Ava leaning on you, and the vodka in your veins weighs you down.

Finally, you pull up in front of your apartment building. The moment the engine shuts off, Matt twists around in his seat. “Nick’s gone, by the way,” he says, a touch abruptly. “Dropped him at the airport earlier to go visit some colleges. So, it’s just us tonight.”

You’re too buzzed to question the timing of that info, and Ava seems unfazed. She basically tumbles out of the car, laughing when her heel snags on the curb. You follow, pressing a palm to the cool exterior of the car for balance, while Chris and Matt exchange glances—equal parts concerned and amused.

Inside your apartment, Ava makes a beeline for the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets until she triumphantly produces a stack of plastic cups and the battered ping-pong balls you’ve both used for impromptu “drinking games.” She smirks at you, eyes bright with mischief.

“Let’s turn this night around,” she announces, leaning dramatically against the kitchen counter. “You guys up for some pong?”

Chris scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “Pretty sure you two have had enough drinking for a lifetime,” he mutters, eyeing the way you’re still swaying on your feet.

You roll your eyes, tossing your jacket onto a nearby chair. “Relax. It’s not that late—and we’re not that drunk.” You catch yourself on the edge of the table and give Ava a pointed look. “Well, mostly. Plus you two can just crash here if Nick’s not home.”

Matt sighs but cracks a small grin. “I’ll play only to make sure you two don’t, I don’t know, pass out mid-throw.”

Ava’s face lights up, like she’s just hatched the best idea in the world. She leans in conspiratorially. “I say we raise the stakes: strip pong.”

You blink at her, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Strip pong?”

“Hell no,” Chris interjects immediately, but there’s an amused tilt to his mouth that betrays he’s not totally opposed.

Matt runs a hand through his hair, eyeing the increasingly giddy look on Ava’s face. “What do you mean, ‘strip pong?’”

Ava bats her lashes with dramatic flair. “Every time your opponent sinks a shot, you either drink or remove a piece of clothing. Drink too much, you’ll probably lose anyway—so it’s a win-win.”

Chris snorts. “That is a terrible idea.”

“Which means it’s the best idea,” you counter, the alcohol loosening your tongue. A reckless thrill buzzes through your veins. “C’mon, don’t be a buzzkill.”

Ava claps her hands, beaming. “Right? Let’s do it!”

Before anyone can mount real objections, she’s already clearing space on the kitchen table, setting up two triangles of cups. The environment shifts from the earlier tension into something mischievously charged. There’s a giddy sense of inevitability—like you all know this is reckless, but you’re too caught in the moment to stop.

It starts off almost tame—Matt pairs with Chris against you and Ava, cups half-filled with cheap liquor you still have leftover from last weekend. The first couple of rounds go smoothly enough. You miss a shot, Ava misses a shot, the guys miss a shot. A few drinks go down.

Then Matt sinks one with surprising finesse, and Ava clutches her head. “Ugh, I’m still so drunk already.” She flicks a glance at you. “Should I strip or drink?”

“Your call.” You giggle, swaying into her shoulder.

Ava shrugs and peels off her crop top with zero hesitation, leaving her in a skimpy bra. Chris stiffens across the table, flicking his gaze away, while Matt tries really hard—and fails—to keep his eyes respectfully diverted. You can’t help but laugh, your cheeks flushing in the stuffy air.

Game on.

One shot after another, the pile of clothes on the floor grows. Your shoes. Ava’s shoes. Matt’s socks. Chris’s hoodie. Ava loses her jeans next, and you see Chris suck in a breath, determinedly not staring at her toned legs. You can’t decide if it’s hilarious or strangely hot, but the alcohol swirling in your bloodstream makes the whole thing feel surreal.

Your turn comes, and you land a perfect shot right in the center cup of Matt and Chris’s formation. “Ha!” you crow triumphantly, swaying a bit on your feet. “Chug or strip, boys.”

Matt groans, tossing back a shot instead. You see the grimace twist his lips as the cheap liquor burns down his throat.

Chris goes next. “Fine,” he grumbles, lifting the hem of his T-shirt and tugging it off in one fluid motion. Your gaze flicks over his chest. Something low in your stomach clenches, and you tear your eyes away before he catches you staring.

Another round passes in a blur of sloshing cups and fumbling giggles. Ava calls out your name, but you barely register it—too busy trying to line up your shot and not topple forward. You miss, and the ball bounces right into your own side of cups.

“You know what that means,” Chris teases, voice threaded with amusement. “Strip or drink.”

You weigh your options, biting your lip. “I’m basically out of clothes,” you mumble, glancing down at your half-zipped skirt and your bra. “And I’m not chugging more, or I’ll be on the floor.”

Biting the bullet, you slip out of your skirt, leaving you in panties and your bra. Ava cackles, hugging your side like you’ve just achieved some glorious victory. Chris just rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes, but you see the flush creeping up his cheeks. Matt tries to busy himself setting the next ping-pong ball in play.

Before you know it, the table is down to just a few cups on each side. Ava, also stripped to bra and panties, shoots you a giddy grin.

It’s the final round of the game. You’re both swaying on your feet, flushed from alcohol and adrenaline.

“Oh my God, we lost again,” Ava groans, pressing a hand to her forehead. “We’re out of clothes to lose, unless…”

Her eyes dart to you, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. You catch on immediately, your own cheeks already burning from the booze. “Right,” you say, heart thumping. “We could distract them.”

Ava shrugs with exaggerated nonchalance. “Strip or drink, right?” Without missing a beat, she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it slide off her arms.

Your pulse quickens. Glancing at Chris trying not to stare—trying and failing. Matt however looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head as they made direct contact with avas tits. With a reckless smile, you reach for your own bra clasp. “Oh, what the hell,” you mutter. One tug, and it falls away.

Matt chokes on air and Chris rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flicking anywhere but your bare skin—until he finally sneaks a glance he can’t quite hide. It’s obvious he’s caught between exasperation and attraction.

But you and Ava decide to up the ante. You trade a look that says, Let’s really throw them off. Giggling under your breath, you loop an arm around Ava’s waist, tugging her closer until your mouths meet in a slow, tipsy kiss.

Ava’s free hand comes up to your tit, and the warmth of her lips lights a spark of shock and amusement through your chest. The boldness of it, the gleeful madness—it’s enough to make your head spin, even without the alcohol. You hear a sharp intake of breath from the boys’ side of the table.

“Oh… fuck,” Matt manages, blinking rapidly.

Chris stands stock-still, ping-pong ball forgotten in his hand as it drops to the floor, eyes locked on the two of you as if he can’t decide whether to look away or lean closer.

Your kiss with Ava lingers just long enough to ensure the boys are thoroughly distracted. When you finally break apart, you shoot her a triumphant grin, adrenaline surging. She laughs, resting her forehead against yours.

“Guess it’s your turn,” Ava purrs, turning her attention to Matt and Chris. “Are you two gonna throw, or what?”

Matt’s throat bobs; Chris glances at him, and they both snap to attention, suddenly remembering the game. But the shot is rushed—Chris lobs the ball, and it bounces wildly off the table, nowhere near any cup.

You and Ava exchange a gleeful high five. “Distraction success,” you declare, still breathless.

“That’s so not fair,” Matt blurts, cheeks tinted pink. “We—uh—didn’t exactly expect that.”

Ava shrugs with mock innocence. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“Your turn to strip or drink,” you remind them, placing your hands on your exposed hips.

Matt and Chris exchange looks of defeat. With a resigned sigh, Matt takes off his pants, stepping out of them in just his boxers. Chris follows suit, hooking his thumbs under his waistband and tugging his own pants off.

You steal a glance—yep, they’re both standing there in boxers, and it’s pretty clear they’re more turned on than they’d like to admit. A flush crawls up Chris’s neck as he tries to hide the telltale outline of his arousal. Matt stares holes into Ava, as if he can’t wait to get his hands on her once the game is over.

Ava bites her lip, stifling laughter as she leans into you. “I’d say that’s game over,” she whispers conspiratorially, both of you grinning like you’ve just pulled off the biggest prank in history.

Matt finally grumbles, “Yeah, we’re done here.”

Matt’s eyes dart between Ava—topless, flushed, and giggling—and the mess of clothes and cups on the table. Something in him snaps, like he’s done waiting. In two strides, he closes the distance, hooks an arm around Ava’s waist, and hoists her off her feet with a growl of mock exasperation. She squeals, clinging to him as he marches toward the stairs.

“Matt—!” she protests through laughter, but she’s not really protesting at all.

Neither you nor Chris misses the way Matt’s fingertips dig into Ava’s side, or how Ava’s lips find Matt’s neck before they even reach the second step. Then they disappear upstairs, leaving you and Chris alone in the aftermath of the wildest game of strip pong you’ve ever played.

You stand there for a moment, heart still hammering. You’re topless, wearing nothing but your underwear, and Chris is in nothing but boxers. His chest rises and falls with each breath, tension radiating off him in waves. It’s strangely silent without Ava’s giggles and Matt’s banter—just the faint thump of the door closing above and the pulse of your own blood rushing in your ears.

Finally, Chris’s gaze lifts to yours, and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “So…” he drawls, voice a touch raspy, “you just gonna kiss Ava like that, or… what?”

A tiny spark lights in your chest, fueled by the lingering buzz of alcohol and the reckless rush of the evening. Instead of answering, you cross the room in a few unsteady steps. There’s a daring glint in his eyes—like he half-expected, half-hoped you’d call his bluff.

Your hands find his shoulders. “Or what?” you echo softly, leaning in.

He doesn’t get the chance to respond. You press your lips to his with a sudden, heated urgency, adrenaline spiking at the feel of his bare skin against yours. His fingers curve around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of him—his scent, the faint taste of cheap liquor still on his tongue—sends a shiver racing down your spine.

Chris drops onto the couch first, eyes full of an urgency you haven’t felt in ages. You swing a leg over his lap, bracing your hands against his shoulders as your mouths collide in another feverish kiss. His hands roam over your waist, sliding up your sides as you melt into him, grinding against his bulge, pulse thrumming with reckless desire.

You moan softly when he tilts his head, lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. Each warm press of his mouth sends shivers rippling down your spine. He grazes your collarbone next, taking his time, and then dips lower, brushing his lips over the swell of your breast. You gasp, fingers curling into his hair as the heat between you both intensifies.

His breath is warm against your skin when he murmurs your name, voice tinged with want and just a hint of disbelief. You answer by tugging him closer, letting him kiss his way back up to your neck, losing yourself in the dizzy rush of being half-naked and tangled in Chris’s arms after years.

Just as his hands slide up your back, mapping every curve of your body, a sudden, jarring crash rattles the ceiling. It’s immediately followed by a startled yelp—loud enough to slice clean through the haze of lust enveloping you both.

You tense, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with Chris. His chest heaves under your palms, and there’s a flicker of concern mixed with reluctance in his gaze—clearly, he’s torn between checking on the commotion and staying right here.

“Did you hear…?” you start, breath ragged.

He exhales sharply, forehead brushing yours. “Yeah. We should—”

Another noise, like something being knocked over, leaves no room for debate. Whatever’s happening upstairs, it can’t be ignored. You slip off Chris’s lap, both of you scrambling for balance while you catch your breath. The heady mixture of heat and urgency remains, thrumming in your veins, but you know you have to push it aside—at least for now.

With one last shared look of frustration and lingering want, you and Chris take off toward the stairs, bracing yourselves for whatever mess might be waiting up there—heartbeats still pounding from the kiss you just left behind.

You and Chris take the stairs two at a time. The second you shove Ava’s door open, the sight inside nearly stops you in your tracks:

Ava’s sprawled on the floor beside the bed, clutching her forehead and moaning in exaggerated agony. Matt is kneeling on the mattress, stark naked, dick hard and out, one hand covering himself while the other hovers in shock near his mouth. His eyes dart between you, Chris, and Ava, unsure whether to rush to her side or dive under the covers.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, rushing over. “Ava, are you okay?”

She sucks in a shaky breath, wincing. “No, I’m not okay!” she yelps, tears of pain and laughter mingling in her eyes. “He went too hard with the backshots! My forehead slammed right into the headboard! And then I fell off the fucking bed!”

Chris stops in the doorway, takes in the scene with wide eyes, and then—without a word—he meets Matt’s gaze and smirks. Matt, sheepish and half-panicked, still can’t hide the flash of pride in his eyes. Chris crosses the room, offers him a quick fist-bump-turned-handshake, and murmurs, “That’s my boy.”

You stifle a disbelieving snort at their little moment of bro solidarity, then refocus on Ava, who’s groaning dramatically, clutching her temple. “Oh, Ava,” you sigh, gently brushing her hair aside to check her forehead. “We heard a bang—are you bleeding? Does it hurt really bad?”

Ava nods, tears in her eyes, though you can’t tell if she’s more embarrassed or in pain. “I swear, if I have to explain a concussion from Matt’s… enthusiasm, I’m gonna lose it.”

Matt, flushing scarlet, finally crawls off the bed. He grabs the nearest shirt to toss on, but then abandons it in favor of helping you lift Ava to a seated position. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he says earnestly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, well,” she mutters, pressing a hand to the side of her face, “now I’m pretty sure my head has its own heartbeat.”

Chris, arms folded across his bare chest, shakes his head—though there’s a faint grin curving his lips. “Let’s just get her some ice, some water… maybe a helmet next time.”

Ava huffs, half-laughing, half-sniffling. “Funny,” she groans, letting you help her stand. “So fucking funny, Chris.”

You guide Ava toward the hallway, Matt trailing right behind, still apologizing under his breath. Meanwhile, Chris lingers for a second, surveying the rumpled bed and smirking to himself like he’s savoring a secret joke.

He catches your eye before you all head downstairs, the ghost of a smile on his face—a silent reminder of the steamy moment you shared just before this chaos. 

The four of you make your way downstairs, with Ava leaning on you and Matt hovering close behind, still wracked with guilt over her throbbing forehead. Chris trails behind, looking more amused than alarmed, though concern flickers in his eyes each time Ava winces.

You guide Ava to the couch and gently lower her, then scurry off to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Chris follows, rummaging in a kitchen drawer until he emerges with a clean dish towel. He wraps it around the ice pack and hands it over to you. Together, you return to the living room and settle the makeshift cold compress against Ava’s swollen bump.

She hisses at first contact but eventually sighs in relief. “Okay,” she mumbles through still-watery eyes, “this is helping, I think.”

You rub her shoulder softly. “Better?”

Ava nods, blinking away the last of her tears. Slowly, that mischievous spark returns to her gaze. She glances from the ice pack to you and Chris—who are both still in your underwear—and lets out a dramatic groan. “Wait, I’m still naked. Now y’all need to ditch your underwear, too. I feel exposed.”

You snort, cheeks warming. Chris smirks, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t think so,” he says, voice tinged with amusement.

When neither of you moves to strip further, Ava sputters a laugh then pauses, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Wait, did I interrupt something earlier?”

For a moment, the silence in the living room is deafening. You and Chris exchange a look, neither of you wanting to address exactly how close you’d been to going all the way.

Chris clears his throat, shifting his stance uncomfortably as he adjusts himself in his boxers. Ava takes one look at that and squeals in horror and glee all at once. “Oh my God! I did interrupt you!”

“Relax,” Chris mutters, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “It was just a… horny mistake.”

Something in his dismissive tone sets you off. A spark of anger flares in your chest, snapping you out of your tipsy haze. “A horny mistake?” you echo, voice sharp.

He lifts his hands, like he’s not sure what he did wrong. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

But you’re already on your feet, body buzzing with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. Without another word, you storm toward the stairs, heat pooling beneath your skin. As you stomp up the stairs, Ava spins on Chris, her eyes blazing.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” she snaps, ignoring the throb in her forehead as she points an accusing finger his way. “Calling it a ‘horny mistake’? Seriously? You couldn’t be more of a dick if you tried.”

Chris rubs at the back of his neck, clearly taken aback by her sudden fury. “Ava, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off with a venomous glare. “You do not get to stand there, practically half-naked, and act like she was just some afterthought.”

Matt steps in, hands raised in a soothing gesture. “Hey, hey—let’s calm down. It’s been a crazy night—”

“Oh my God, Matt, do not start,” Ava snarls, turning her wrath on him. “You nearly gave me a fucking concussion upstairs! And now you’re gonna defend him, too?”

Matt winces, guilt etched all over his face. “I’m not defending anyone, babe, I’m just—”

“Just what?” Ava scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Trying to ‘calm’ me down like I’m some hysterical child? Newsflash: I’m pissed for a reason!”

Chris opens his mouth, maybe to apologize, but Ava shuts him down before he can get a word out. “No. I don’t wanna hear it right now. You said something shitty, you hurt her feelings—so congratulations. You did something dumber than Matt ramming my forehead into the headboard, and that’s saying a lot.”

Matt make a face somewhere between embarrassment and frustration. “Ava, come on—”

“Don’t ‘come on’ me,” she snaps. “And don’t fucking follow me, either, because I need to check on my girl, and both of you need to learn how to stop screwing everything up for five minutes.”

With that, she whirls around, leaves the boys downstairs, and marches upstairs after you, ice pack pressed to her head, muttering a final, “Assholes,” under her breath before disappearing into your room to find you while Matt stares at her ass. 

Moments later, you hear a soft knock at the door. Then Ava slips in, still swaddling the ice pack against her head, sporting the same disheveled look from all the chaos.

“Hey, babe,” she murmurs, voice laced with concern. She closes the door gently and moves to sit beside you on the bed. “I totally chewed him out, by the way. Don’t know if he’s still alive downstairs.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help a small, reluctant laugh. You roll onto your side, making room for her under the covers. She settles in, cuddling up with you as if it’s second nature—because, really, it is.

You sigh, pressing a hand to your face. “I just… I don’t know why I’m so mad. It was fun, it was stupid, it got interrupted, and now—”

Ava hushes you gently, tucking her arm around your waist. “Hey, it was a lot. You’re allowed to be upset.”

You exhale, tension draining from your shoulders. Having Ava there, warm and comforting, soothes the swirling mess in your head. “Thanks,” you whisper, nuzzling against her just enough to feel supported.

She chuckles softly, pressing the cold pack to her own throbbing forehead. “No problem. Just keep me from getting a concussion, yeah?”

You both share a tired laugh. Eventually, the apartment grows quiet again. Somewhere below, Matt is likely still hovering worriedly, and Chris… well, who knows. But for now, Ava’s presence gives you a moment’s peace—wrapped in a blanket, side by side, nursing your bruised hearts and heads in equal measure as you fall asleep next to each other.

Morning light streams through your bedroom curtains, rousing you from a restless sleep. Your head throbs faintly, a not-so-subtle reminder of last night’s drunken chaos. Ava, sprawled beside you under a tangle of blankets, groans softly, pressing a hand to her bandaged forehead. Neither of you notices the quiet right away—until you pad into the living room in search of water and see that the boys are gone.

“What the hell?” Ava mutters, blinking blearily around your apartment. “No text, no note…” She checks her phone and scoffs. “Nada.”

You rub sleep from your eyes, mind still foggy. “Maybe Chris and Matt went home before their parents noticed they were gone all night?”

Ava’s jaw tightens. “Screw that. They could’ve woken us up or something—especially after what went down.” She tosses her phone aside. “Get dressed. We’re going over there.”

You’re too groggy to protest. Five minutes later, you’re stuffing yourself into the baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants Ava thrust into your arms while she drives—white-knuckled and furious—through the morning traffic toward the Sturniolo family home. Her eyes stay fixed on the road, jaw clenched like she’s ready for war.

The Sturniolo house stands in a quiet neighborhood, the driveway empty except for Matt’s car and Chris’s familiar ride. Their parents must be at work, leaving the place wide open. Ava parks haphazardly at the curb, kills the engine, and practically launches herself out of the driver’s seat.

“Ava, wait—” you call, scrambling to keep up as she beelines for the front door. She doesn’t bother to knock, just pushes it open and stomps inside, her slippers squeaking on the tiled entryway.

The living room comes into view: Matt is leaning against a side table, sipping coffee, while Chris is sprawled on the couch, eyes on his phone. Both look up in unison, equal parts startled and guilty, as Ava storms in.

“Well, good morning,” Chris says slowly, arching a brow. His gaze flicks over to you, lingering just a second longer, before swinging back to Ava. “Didn’t expect you here so soon.”

Ava plants her hands on her hips, ignoring the twinge in her forehead. “You two took off this morning without a single word—after everything that happened last night. Seriously? You couldn’t even leave a note?”

Matt sets his mug down with a sigh. “Ava—”

“Don’t you ‘Ava’ me,” she snaps. “Look at my face!” She lifts the cloth pressed to her injury. “I practically have a concussion from your dick and Y/N got humiliated because Chris decided to call it a ‘horny mistake.’ Yet you just sneak out and think it’s all good?”

Heat flushes your cheeks at the mention of Chris’s words. Meanwhile, Matt glances sheepishly at you, then Chris, clearly unsure how to diffuse this. “We weren’t exactly sneaking out,” Matt tries. “We just figured we’d let you both sleep it off. You were wasted—”

“Shut up,” Ava hisses, turning her glare on him. “You’re the one who practically slammed my head into the headboard, and now you’re defending him for being an ass to my best friend? Come on, Matt.”

Chris sets his phone aside and stands, hands slipping into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, I get it,” he says tersely, meeting Ava’s anger head-on. “We messed up. We should’ve said something.”

Ava’s eyes blaze. “Damn right, you should have.” Then she whips around to face Matt again. “Or a text—something.”

Matt rubs the back of his neck. “We’re sorry, babe. Really. We know we screwed up.”

Ava scoffs, lifting her chin. “A little courtesy would be nice. I have a possible concussion and you guys just bounce? Unbelievable.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, remembering the tension, the moment you and Chris nearly shared. He glances at you again, something akin to regret flickering across his face. You swallow hard, hugging yourself. You’re not sure if you want to confront him or disappear.

Matt reaches for Ava’s arm, voice softer. “We didn’t mean to make things worse. Last night got so crazy… we figured space might help.”

Ava yanks her arm away, “I don’t need space. I need communication you fucking idiot!” She tilts her head, leveling a glare at Chris. “Especially from you. You have anything else to say about my best friend and your ‘horny mistake’?”

Chris exhales slowly, shoulders sagging. “I shouldn’t have called it that. It came out wrong.” He looks directly at you. “I’m sorry.”

Ava rubs at her eyes, taking a long, shaky breath. She suddenly looks more worn out than furious, and you realize the weight of her hangover might be as heavy as her anger. With a small groan, she presses a palm gently to her sore forehead.

“You know what,” she mutters, sagging into the couch, “maybe I’m just—” She sighs. “I’m just hungover, cranky, and my head still hurts. That’s all.”

Relief flickers across Matt’s face. He steps forward, resting a cautious hand on her shoulder. When she doesn’t shove him away, he leans in, kissing her head softly. “I’m sorry about… everything,” he murmurs. “Let me make it up to you. We’ll go grab breakfast—my treat. You, me, Chris, Y/N… we could all use some food right now.”

Ava looks around the quiet living room—Chris with his hands in his pockets, you standing off to the side and finally, she nods, a faint, tired smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah,” she relents. “I could eat.”

Matt exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours. “Great,” he says, relieved. “Let’s go. There’s a Denny’s not too far from here.”

Chris glances your way, a silent question in his eyes—You good? You nod, trying to move past your lingering annoyance. Breakfast might be the first step toward smoothing things over… or at least not making them worse.

Fifteen minutes later, the four of you are crammed into a booth at Denny’s beneath too-bright fluorescent lights. There’s a collective slump in your posture, as though the whole table is nursing hangovers or leftover tension. But the aroma of coffee and frying bacon starts to lift the mood.

Ava flops an elbow on the table, reading the menu with one eye open. Matt, sitting beside her, rubs slow circles on her back, whispering apologies here and there. Across from them, you and Chris hold your menus like makeshift shields—unsure if you’re truly ready to talk yet, but at least the scents of hash browns and eggs ease some of the awkwardness.

“Ugh, I can’t decide,” you mutter, eyeing the pancake combos.

“Waffles,” Chris counters immediately, glancing up from his own menu.

You arch an eyebrow. “Waffles?”

He flips the laminated page toward you, jabbing a finger at a picture of crisp, golden-brown waffles drizzled in syrup. “They’re superior in every way. Texture, flavor pockets, structural integrity—waffles win.”

“Structural integrity?” you repeat, a disbelieving scoff escaping you. “I don’t care about ‘flavor pockets,’ Chris. Pancakes are fluffy and comforting.”

He snorts, setting his menu down like he’s ready to present a thesis. “Fluffy is just code for ‘soggy if you don’t eat them in five seconds.’ With waffles, you get these perfect little squares to hold your syrup. Pancakes are basically sog-biscuits.”

Your mouth drops open. “They are not sog-biscuits! You can’t beat a stack of warm, buttery pancakes.”

He leans forward, eyes narrowed in mock challenge. “Oh, I can, and I will: a stack of warm, buttery waffles, plus that satisfying crunch on the outside.”

You’re about to retort—something about pancakes being the foundation of every breakfast place in America—when Ava peeks up from her menu, looking a bit more alive. “If you two start a food fight over which carb is better, I’m going to need another ibuprofen. And Y/N is right. Its pancakes.” she warns, though there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Matt slides her a small grin, then turns to you and Chris. “You know what’s better than waffles and pancakes?”

All three of you look at him skeptically, and he chuckles. “French toast.”

Ava rolls her eyes but pokes his side playfully. “You’re so extra.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admits, raising a hand for the waitress. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll get the pancakes to show solidarity with Y/N’s taste buds.”

Chris feigns a horrified gasp. “Traitor.”

“Uh-huh,” Matt deadpans. “And Ava can get waffles so she’ll stop having to listen to you two bicker.”

Ava groans dramatically. “Why the fuck do I have to eat waffles,” she teases, resting her head on Matt’s shoulder. Despite the jab, there’s relief etched in her features—like the tension in her shoulders has finally lifted a bit.

You catch Chris’s eye across the table and, despite yourself, a small smile creeps up. The argument feels less about pancakes and waffles and more about exhaling the stress of the last twelve hours.

“Fine,” you concede, flipping your menu closed. “But only because I’m starving.”

Chris huffs out a soft laugh, doing the same with his menu. “Yeah. Me too.”

And for the first time since last night’s chaos, you and Ava and the boys breathe a little easier—sitting in a too-bright diner with questionable coffee, letting the warm promise of breakfast slowly piece things back together.

After Matt paid the bill and grabbed your leftovers, the four of you step out of Denny’s into the brisk midday air. Breakfast felt like a temporary truce—banter over waffles and pancakes masking the undercurrent of unresolved tension. But as you all pile into Matt’s car—him behind the wheel, Ava in the passenger seat, you and Chris in the back—there’s a sense the peace won’t last.

Matt starts the engine, carefully guiding the car into traffic. Ava scrolls through apple music for music, and for a few minutes, the only sounds are of the passing cars. You stare out the window, head still pounding from a mix of caffeine. Beside you, Chris sits with his arms crossed, gaze fixed on the seat in front of him, as if waiting for the right moment to speak.

Eventually, Matt hits a pothole so deep it rattles the whole car, and Chris nearly loses his grip on his takeout container. He mutters a curse and shoots a glare at the back of Matt’s head. “Could we not hit every crater in the road?” he growls.

“Sorry,” Matt says flatly, clearly not in the mood to argue. “Boston roads aren’t exactly a smooth ride.”

Ava twists in her seat, rolling her eyes at Chris. “You want to drive instead? Be my guest,” she challenges, though her voice is weary.

Chris exhales, as if already fed up. You can’t help but notice he keeps casting sidelong looks your way. Finally, he shifts toward you, opening his mouth like he’s been holding back words that can’t wait any longer.

“So,” he says, his tone deceptively casual, “you ever gonna explain what happened after senior year? Because last I remember, you were all set on college—then you vanished.”

A spike of tension hits your stomach. “Things changed,” you say curtly. “It’s none of your business, Chris.”

He lets out a short laugh. “Funny. You made it everyone’s business when you wouldn’t stop talking about your big future. Then out of nowhere, poof—you’re gone.”

Heat flushes your cheeks. “I didn’t vanish. I took a gap year. Not that it matters to you.”

Chris’s jaw tightens. “It matters because you ghosted me. One minute we’re talking, the next you’re off with someone else like I never existed.”

Ava glances over her shoulder, wanting to intervene, but Matt shakes his head slightly. He keeps his eyes on the road, tension etched across his features. You feel the interior of the car tighten as Chris’s accusation hangs in the air.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” You laugh in disbelief.

He cocks his head to the side in complete seriousness. “I don’t know, are we?”

“Fuck you, Chris. You know that’s not why I stopped talking to you,” you snap, though the guilt of lying twists in your gut. “I didn’t ghost you because of some other guy, so drop it.”

“Right,” he spits back. “Because that’s totally how it looked when you got a boyfriend and never bothered to call again.”

“That’s not what happened,” you hiss. “Can we not do this right now?”

Chris ignores your plea, leaning closer, voice low and charged. “I think it’s really convenient how you had all these big plans—until you bailed on them, and me. Don’t act surprised, I'm still pissed.”

Anger flares in your chest. You clench your fingers against the seat. “Don’t rewrite history just because you’re mad. You think you were a saint? You barely acknowledged me half the time besides when you wanted your dick sucked. Don’t act like I was the only one who messed up.”

Chris’s eyes blaze. “You know that's not true. I was obsessed with you. And we were kids. We didn’t know how to handle—”

“Stop acting like that excuses everything!” you cut in, voice trembling with the force of your emotion. “You never asked what I wanted. You never said if you wanted more. Then you blame me when I moved on?”

He sucks in a breath, looking ready to throw another barb, when Matt’s voice finally cracks through the tension. “Hey!” he barks, sparing a quick glance in the rearview. “Cut it out. Both of you.”

Chris grits his teeth, but you can see he’s holding himself back. You’re vibrating with leftover fury, blood pounding in your ears. Ava twists again, her gaze darting between you and Chris. She looks torn between yelling at you both or letting Matt handle it.

Chris exhales, folding his arms. His voice is a bitter mutter. “Guess we’ll never know if you’d have stuck around if you hadn’t had a backup plan.”

Your anger surges anew. “Don’t you dare imply I was just waiting for something better to come along!”

Before Chris can retort, Matt hits the brakes harder than necessary at a yellow light, causing everyone to jolt forward. “That’s it!” he snaps, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “We can talk about this when we’re not moving at 40 miles an hour, okay? I’m not letting you two kill each other in Avas car.”

A taut silence falls, your chest heaving with unsaid words. Chris slumps back in his seat, staring out the window with a thunderous expression. You rub your temples, frustration and guilt churning in your stomach.

By the time Matt pulls up to the Sturniolo house, the tension in the car is suffocating. Chris throws open the back door and practically leaps out, not sparing you a second glance. Ava sighs and unbuckles, eyeing you and Chris warily. Matt parks, shoulders rigid, then steps out to follow his brother.

You remain in the back seat for a moment, heart still hammering. Ava glances at you, sympathy flickering across her features, but she doesn’t say a word. She simply gives a weary shake of her head, then trudges after Matt.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, you climb out. You catch a glimpse of Chris disappearing inside, posture tense. Your anger hasn’t cooled, but beneath it lies a pang of something else—regret, maybe. Of course, you’re both too stubborn to admit it.

Ava returns to the car and slides behind the wheel. She waits, eyes on you. “Ready to go?”

You nod numbly, slipping into the passenger seat. As she drives away, the echo of your own shouting plays on repeat in your mind, mingling with Chris’s accusations. It’s as if the old wounds have been ripped wide open, and neither of you knows how to stop the bleeding.

tag list: @mattsobvimyfav @sturnsvelocity @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002

[sophie-frm-mars]

I'm not sure how much people are talking about Aaron Bushnell having engaged with online leftist media, but the records show that they were a viewer of a bunch of different twitch streams, including mine, and subscribed to a bunch of patreons, including mine. I'm not going to inflate my importance here, the livestream link was sent directly to Talia Jane and Anark, so those are probably the voices Bushnell felt the most connected to and followed the most directly, like idk if they also subscribed to someone's patreon after watching a video abt Cars 2 or whatever, I'm not trying to examine whether social media drove the self immolation because I think that's disrespectful to the memory of someone who literally died screaming Free Palestine. I don't personally know of any leftist creators who directly advocate political suicide, and I know that we all share in the political understanding that underscored Bushnell's decision.

I've already made a point of telling my patreon server that my politics are about growing into each other and supporting one another and that if anyone asked me if I thought they should do what Bushnell did I would say no absolutely not.

I'm ruminating a bit on the nature and meaning of the protest, because a lot of people are engaging with the image of a man in fatigues on fire, standing proud and declaring "FREE PALESTINE", while I've seen others talking about the fact Bushnell's username on several platforms was LillyAnarKitty, mourning the loss of a potential trans sister, talking in depressive terms about the act of suicide, to which I think the people who are engaging in the more macho interpretation of the protest are saying "no it was cool and masculine, it wasn't suicide in the conventional sense it was about principle!" I think there's room for plenty of both. For the record LillyAnarKitty used he and she pronouns in discord servers.

Andreas Malm's approach to self-sacrifice and self-endangerment is that we as subjects of the imperial core are in a sense, precious. Valuable. We are supposedly what it is all for. The imperialist project must be doing it for the citizens of the imperialist nations because if it isn't, then it has to nakedly admit that it is doing it all for the intense power and wealth consolidation of a tiny tiny number of soulless ghouls. Therefore when we put ourselves in harm's way in a way that says you would have to destroy me to get to the thing I care about, we leverage the implicit value of ourselves for our principles. A planned protest by Palestine Action against the London Stock Exchange was allegedly going to involve locking the actionists' necks onto the mechanism of the door into the LSE making it impossible to enter or leave without probably killing them, for example. I think that Bushnell's self immolation sits on a sort of dissonance, my life is precious and my life is worthless. My life is precious and so you should care about the obvious tragedy that I am enacting and my life is worthless if thousands upon thousands of Palestinians are killed as part of the project that enables the life that I lead.

There is also the way that people have debated the meaning of "complicit in genocide" - Bushnell worked in USAF Intelligence and the US has active troops in Palestine, it's possible that they were already culpable in an unknowable number of deaths without having set foot there.

In one sense it's a little pointless to debate the fine details of the meaning of Bushnell's protest in the same way that it's pointless to pick over any feelings of responsibility that I and I know other people that we know they watched are feeling. When I first saw the video I was struck by the language, by their concise and astute analysis and I knew, without knowing just how closely that they were plugged into the same intellectual and political milieu as us. In that same sense I think that they already described what they did the best that any of us are going to be able to:

“My name is Aaron Bushnell. I am an active-duty member of the United States Air Force, and I will no longer be complicit in genocide.”

“I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest. But compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

"Free Palestine."

[chrissv4mp]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings(!!): vulgar language, verbal abuse, controllingbf!chris, manipulativebf!chris, use of "y/n", etc.

author's note: loosely inspired by the song "1 step forward, 3 steps back" by (my fav) olivia rodrigo🫶🏼 hope u guys enjoy & please note that chris would never actually act like this & that it's just an AU!!

♡ = you

☆ = chris

nobody is permitted to steal/repost my work on other platforms, thank you.

_____________

"hello?" chris said, his voice raspy as he had just finished a twitch stream where he'd been yelling at nick 30 minutes ago.

you sighed. well, it only took 3 calls for him to pick up.

"hey, chris." you still smiled, even if he couldn't see it. maybe it was just you trying to convince yourself you enjoyed this. whatever it was.

the boy behind the phone coughed, taking a sip of his pepsi before he spoke again, "hi, ma,"

his voice softened, making your smile widen as your face flushed.

"how-- how was your day?" chris asked, not an ounce of curiosity in his tone.

could he at least try to sound convincing for once? he'd done it time and time again whenever he lied to you.

"it was fine," you sighed, staring up at the ceiling of your room.

his eyebrows furrowed in both anger and confusion, "what? y/n, c'mon don't have an attitude with me right now.

you raised an eyebrow in confusion, your voice starting to tremble as you knew exactly how this would play out, "i didn't give you an att-"

"it was fine," he tried to mimic your voice, annoyance in the sentence. "and you wonder why i'm always so fucking angry."

not a word left your mouth in response, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffed quietly before apologizing, "'m sorry,"

for what, though?

your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took, trying your best to push the tears back, "i just-- i just wanted to hear your voice before i went to bed."

chris didn't speak, instead he just sighed in disappointment, running a hand through his hair even though it'd just fall right back into place.

"well, you ruined it. maybe if you weren't such a fucking downer all the time people would actually think your fun. bye." the boy said before hanging up, not even giving you a chance to say goodnight.

your eyebrows furrowed, and the suffocating feeling in your throat finally took over as tears rolled down your face, stopping at your jawline before they fell to your collarbone.

"fuck!" you grunted, punching the mattress before chucking your phone across your room without even thinking.

your breathing began to get heavier, and you quickly began to sob, choking out cries as you cursed at yourself.

stupid, stupid, stupid. why must i be so fucking stupid?

you gripped the sheets of your bed tighter, trying to control your breathing as you shut your eyes tightly.

why cry? it's not like this hasn't happened before. you're always the bad guy in situations like this. never him.

but it's not your fault.

deep inhale, deep exhale. over and over again you did this, until your vision finally cleared and your breath was finally even.

you opened your eyes, looking around the room for your phone that you had thrown somewhere earlier.

the floor creaked as your foot hit the floorboard, walking over to your bedroom door and kneeling down to grab the device.

"shit," you muttered, turning it around to reveal multiple of cracks on the screen. your thumb went to the power button, pressing it.

"no, no, no, fuck." continuously you hit the power button, hoping that by a miracle it would turn on and all would be okay.

well, maybe this was the reason your parents told you to get a screen-protector.

maybe this is why he thinks i'm no fun. does he even think i'm pretty?

♡...

_____________

...☆

why am i like this.

chris set his phone on his desk, looking up at his monitor that was currently displaying the fortnite lobby.

his eyes move over to the other monitor, the home screen being a picture of him and you at the beach a few years ago.

a frown washes over his face and he can't help but stare at the picture a little longer, wishing he was back in that moment. he remembers every part of it.

"chris, what the fuck!" you gasped, your mouth agape as the brown-haired boy had just flung water at you.

the boy snickered as he tried, but miserably failed, to run away from you in the water.

"i'd kill him," matt laughed, sitting back on his beach towel as he watched the two of you.

chris continued to slowly run away from you, but you quickly swam towards him and splashed a ton of water at the brunette boy.

"fuck!" he gasped, shivering from the cold even though he was waist deep in the ocean.

"don't be such a baby," you teased, splashing water at him once more before swimming away and onto shore.

chris followed shortly after, stumbling out of the ocean and falling onto the soft sand of the beach.

you laughed, grabbing your phone from your bag as you ran over to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder as you raised your phone camera.

"smile, baby." you said, kissing his sand-covered cheek as you took the picture.

"chris!" matt's voice erupted from down the hall, and chris turned around in his swivel chair to look at his brother.

he cocked an eyebrow, laying back in his seat as he watched matt walk into his room.

"yeah?" the younger brother asked.

"nick and i were thinking y/n should join us for a wednesday vlog. i mean, you've already hard launched her so we don't see why not properly introduce her." he gave his brother a toothy grin, leaning against the door frame and awaiting chris's answer.

his breath caught, and matt seemed to notice, tilting his head as he looked over at chris.

"you okay, chris?"

chris just nodded, blinking a few times to bring himself back to reality, "yeah, yeah. great idea, i'll call her tomorrow, i'm sure she'd be open to the idea."

if she even answers the phone.

matt nodded, smiling as he left chris's room.

the night went by quickly, and every moment up to this one, chris dreaded.

for the first time he'd be the one calling you. why'd he feel so weird? so vulnerable?

his fingers slowly typed in your number, and the first ring didn't even get to his ear before you picked up.

"chris?" your voice was softer than usual, like you were excited.

maybe it was because he was the one to call you this time.

"hey, ma. i'm sorry for yesterday i was 'js stressed," chris muttered, his voice raspy from yesterday and from the fact that he had just woken up.

your smile faded a bit, but your heart warmed at the sound of his voice actually sounding sympathetic for once. was he changing?

"it's... it's okay, i figured you probably had a long day." you smiled, this one more for him than yourself this time.

chris nodded, his heart warming at the reassurance that you had been thinking of him.

it was nothing new, he just never noticed because he was so caught up on himself.

"did-- did you need something, baby?" you asked softly, voice low as to not provoke the boy.

chris let a small smile creep onto his face, "matt had the idea to invite you in on our wednesday vlog,"

the shock on your face wasn't subtle, and you immediately smiled before saying, "wait, seriously? but i thought you wanted to keep our relationship off the media for a while?"

the boy shrugged, adjusting himself so that he held his phone with his shoulder, "well, i did kinda hard-launch you in a friday post, so i'm sure half of the world knows by now,"

your smile widened, face softening at his words.

"so why don't we show the other half how amazing my girlfriend is?" he asked, the smallest hint of excitement in his voice.

"already on my way," you replied, hearing him laugh on the other line.

"and just be warned, i have no idea what the topic is and matt and nick can get a little crazy." chris joked.

"well, whatever it is i doubt it'll be in our favour." you laughed.

_____________

the tripod was propped up in front of the triplets' island, a red glowing dot indicating it was recording.

before the introduction, chris and matt's banter was the first thing to be recorded.

"the fuck?" chris laughed, punching matt in the shoulder.

"well, welcome to our wednesday video! me and matt-- well, mainly matt --came up with the idea for today's vlog." nick explained, looking over to his brothers with a smile.

matt smiled brightly at the camera, giving a dorky thumbs up as he looked over at nick and chris.

chris cringed at both his brothers, "why are you so formal? sound like a dumbass." he snickered.

nick replied with a punch to his brothers chest, and chris made an exaggerated scream.

"kid's crying and he hasn't even heard the video idea," matt joked, and chris shoved him.

nick rolled his eyes before looking over at you, who was standing just out of the sight of the camera.

"and to spice things up a bit, we have a special guest!" he exclaimed, smiling at you.

chris nodded, "very special."

nick gestured towards you, and you took that as a que to walk into frame, waving at the camera before taking the empty seat between him and chris.

"this is y/n, chris's girlfriend!" nick said, gesturing towards you once again before you properly gave a greeting.

"hello, i'm so happy to be here!" you smiled, waving at the camera once again before chris placed a kiss on your cheek.

matt made a face, "maybe save all the lovey-dovey stuff for after the video?"

chris wrapped a hand around your waist before slapping matts arm, "okay mr. i get no bitches."

matt rolled his eyes before turning to the camera again, "so, the inspiration for this video was literally just me and my brothers building lego sets."

"you're speaking as if you're telling a story--" chris started but was quickly interrupted by nicks scream of annoyance.

"do we need the tape again?" he groaned, and chris laughed quietly.

"anyway... as i was saying, me and nick went to target the other day and chris reminded us we needed paper plates, so while we were in the aisle we saw some red solo cups," he explained, looking over at nick who had a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

"so... we're gonna play cup pong!" matt exclaimed like a child, looking over at you and chris.

you smiled, "i'm the best at cup pong,"

nick raised an eyebrow, "well, let's see."

"we're gonna have teams, so that's why we wanted to get y/n into today's video. chris, it looks like you might have an advantage..." matt sighed, "he's the worst at cup pong."

nick hummed in agreement, and chris just rolled his eyes out of fake annoyance, "loser alos has to drink a shot of hot sauce."

your lips upturned into a smirk again, crossing your arms over one another in front of your chest, "alright, then."

_____________

chris groaned as he slammed his fist down onto the island, watching as the orange ping-pong ball bounced off of it.

"better prepare yourself for that hot sauce, chris." matt laughed, throwing the ping-pong ball and landing it inside of a cup.

nick and matt high-fived as they cheered for each other.

it was your turn, you grabbed the ping-pong ball and aimed for a cup, squinting your eyes.

"c'mon, baby, you got this." chris encouraged, his voice low.

you bounced the ball, and it jumped into the cup right before bouncing back out, "this game is rigged, what the fuck?!"

chris dragged his hands down his face in disappointment, walking away from the camera for a few seconds before stepping back into frame.

"ooh! well, you know what that means.." nick laughed, looking over at chris who just growled under his breath.

chris balled his hands into fists, and matt watched his body language change.

"nick, stop the camera." he muttered, nudging his older brother as he pointed to chris.

chris saw and he raised his voice, "the fuck are you pointing at?"

nick didn't move, his eyes trained on chris as the younger boy moved back to the island.

"nick! turn the fucking camera off." matt said, this time louder.

your eyes widened as chris approached the island, knocking all the cups down as they fell to the floor.

"fuck this stupid fucking game!" he yelled, going over to matt and nicks side before throwing all the cups down.

you backed away from the island, eyes widening as your breathing hitched.

"y/n, i can take you home." matt offered, but chris quickly took the keys from the kitchen counter, stomping over to you and roughly grabbing your hand.

"chris, what the fuck?" nick yelled, finally getting over to the camera and turning it off.

"chris!" matt called, but the younger boy just dragged you out of the house and into the mini van.

he slammed the car door, jamming the keys into the ignition before pulling out of their driveway.

"chris," you muttered, and all the boy did was grumble to himself.

"baby, i'm scared." your voice trembled as you held back tears, your eyes focused on chris.

the boy scoffed, looking over at you with wide eyes, "the fuck are you scared for?"

you didn't answer him, feeling the car speed up as his anger grew.

"fucking answer me, y/n!" he yelled, eyes trained on the road as he punched the steering wheel.

you jumped, tears gathering in your eyes as you muttered, "nothing, nevermind."

chris groaned, and then the car fell silent.

the drive to your wasn't far, and chris's anger was quickly rising with every passing second.

he couldn't handle it anymore. he stopped the car just a few blocks from your house, parking on the side of the road for just a minute.

"get out, y/n." he muttered, not caring to even look your way.

you raised an eyebrow, "what?"

he exhaled shakily, gripping on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

"you heard me loud and clear. get out of the car. now." he said again, looking out of his window.

you didn't move, not even unbuckling your seatbelt, "chris, my house is just a few more blocks--"

"get the fuck out!" he yelled, finally turning to look at you with wide eyes.

the tears finally fell down your face as fear filled your entire being, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the passenger door.

chris fell back against his seat, head leaning against the headrest as he began to drive away. fast.

you sobbed as you made your way down the sidewalk, keeping your head down the entire way back to your house.

why was he so cruel?

as you approached your house, you remembered the last time he had dropped you off here.

"i love you," he smiled, leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"i love you, too, baby." you muttered before pulling away and getting out of the car.

chris did, too, following by your side as you walked up the porch.

you giggled, "what's up?"

he just shrugged, stopping behind you as you got to the front door, "just wanted to walk you to the door. needed to make sure you're safe."

"why wouldn't i be safe? what, did you expect me to get kidnapped on the second step i took?" you joked, and ge just nodded nonchalantly.

"my exact thoughts!"

you nudged his shoulder, kissing him on the cheek before entering your house.

the things you would do to experience that again.

but until then it'll always just be this, chris flipping from good to bad.

it's always 1 step forward, and 3 steps back.

. . .

tags: @mattsbbg @55sturn @mayhem-72 @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @lanixsturniolo @niicksposts @mattsneezing @stingerayyy2 @sturn-wrld @chrissturnswife