#on a piece of art that my Personal relationship with has changed over the years 👍
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bandtrees · 4 months ago
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scp is extremely not my thing anymore but i have been reminiscing reading tales and the like i used to enjoy and it’s kind of hard for me to put into words my present opinion on 4231. i admire it greatly from a technical standpoint, it influenced my writing a lot hence why i return to it as often as i do, its author’s way with words is utterly stunning to me as is their use of the format and it still blows me away in this regard and im sure it always will, but in terms of content i find it like
 presently more than a little uncomfortable that the vision of it is essentially, out of universe, “this character is a misogynist because he was abused by an Evil Woman” however emotionally the article goes about writing that abuse.
i don’t think it’s, like, sacred and untouchable and free of criticism for a delicate subject matter and as i get older i find its portrayal of that subject matter more and more questionable. it feels, in content, like you canonized someone on ao3’s beautifully-written-but-holy-shit ventfic, and i don't say that to criticize fanfiction. it feels at times like it’s got its hands on its hips and is going, “see? men can be abuse victims too!”, which is
 obviously a true statement but at times it delivers more nuance to the situation it’s writing than i know it intends. questions it does not intend on answering because the built-in answer is “lilly is evil and horrible and any question otherwise is francis being in denial”.
like, i think it would be more interesting if lilly was more of a character with a personality and not just Evil Abuser Woman. i think it would be more interesting if francis/clef was a victim with flaws beyond being reasonably cagey and intentionally annoying. because a lot of the intrigue the article sets up is the in-universe question of what happened with 4231-a and 4231-b, but none of that intrigue really goes anywhere beyond pointing and going “aren’t these assholes wrong about francis?” because the question is flattened to “all of this is happening because there was one abuser and one victim, and lilly did every horrible thing you can imagine and is evil and horrible and people are misinterpreting francis” - when, to be honest, with how grand and dense the article is you’d think there’d be more meat to it than that.
and, like, that’s not to say in-universe i think clef is evil and lilly did nothing wrong because holy shit no, but from a writing perspective, and this feels like sacrilege to say on scp tumblr, i think it’s good to knock it off its pedestal of “writes about a Sensitive And Important Theme”. i used to adore 4231 for that reason when the concept of something portraying romantic/sexual abuse in a meaningful way at all was enough to win me over. and i think i've just grown out of it as my standards got higher i suppose. which is a me problem to be fair.
funny because i fucking love the rest of the article. the foundation altar. the cornwall incident itself is utterly HAUNTING. the alternating povs. the worldbuilding. i just wish the heart of it lived up to that grandiosity ig.
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youunravelme · 6 months ago
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nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1
author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.
summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!
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after
despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.
but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.
the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.
“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.
“how was work?” your mom asked.
you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.
when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.
but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.
but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.
it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.
“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”
both of your parents hummed.
“did you have dinner already?” you asked.
“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.
your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”
you wanted to throw up.
you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.
“oh,” was all you could say.
“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”
you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 
“i’ll figure something out,” you said.
your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.
before
you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.
it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 
but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.
you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.
not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.
a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.
“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.
you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”
the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”
“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.
“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.
“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 
“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.
you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.
“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.
you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.
the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”
matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.
matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.
the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”
you nodded.
mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.
matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.
you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.
if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.
after
you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.
“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”
“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.
“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”
your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.
you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”
but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.
you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.
and that’s what life had felt like lately:
unfortunate.
unfortunate shit just happening to you.
it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.
you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.
emma:
hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!
you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.
years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancĂ©e, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.
but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.
you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.
now it just filled you with dread.
no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.
but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.
you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.
you:
i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!
and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.
before
the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.
missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.
it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.
school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.
now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.
and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.
the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.
especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 
all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.
which is how you ended up playing the game of life.
even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.
you found yourself smiling and laughing along.
you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.
“are you having fun?” he asked.
your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”
“really?” he smiled.
you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”
matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”
you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.
but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.
you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.
“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”
matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”
to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?
evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”
you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”
he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”
you locked your fingers together. “promise.”
after
it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.
which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 
before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.
“hey! what’s up?”
you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”
emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”
you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”
“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”
and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.
“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”
“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”
“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”
“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.
“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”
you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”
“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”
you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.
there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”
before
matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.
both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.
morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.
hence the party in the basement.
morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.
“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”
no one said a word.
you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.
“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”
the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”
thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.
you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.
but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”
“truth,” simone replied.
morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.
the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.
“truth or dare?” she asked.
you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.
“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”
your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.
a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.
“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.
morgan blinked. “what?”
it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”
she guffawed. “but you have to!”
matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”
“but you lose if you don’t!”
he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”
your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.
“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.
a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.
“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.
matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”
you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”
matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”
“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”
he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”
you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”
he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.
“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.
oh god. did he like simone?
your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.
you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”
he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”
now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”
matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.
“what do you mean?”
“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”
“matt, what are you talking about?”
he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”
“know what?”
matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?
“matt what—”
“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.
you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.
matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”
“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”
“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”
you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”
“would you let me?”
words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.
but it was perfect.
after
you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.
most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.
it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.
unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.
but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?
you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.
it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.
“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”
and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.
the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.
“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”
you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”
taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.
you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”
taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”
your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”
taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”
“taryn...”
“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”
you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.
“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”
you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.
“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”
you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”
the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.
you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.
emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.
the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.
it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.
emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.
you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.
you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.
emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.
but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceĂ© before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.
“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”
if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.
if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancĂ© to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.
if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.
if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.
but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.
brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.
if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.
but it was too late now.
matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.
you felt like an idiot.
you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.
your hands were shaking again.
you shoved them in your pockets again.
matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.
“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.
you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”
matt scoffed. “not happening.”
out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”
matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”
“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.
brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”
you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.
and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.
you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.
but it wasn’t like that this time around.
you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancĂ© when you could just suck it up.
the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.
you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.
you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.
except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.
you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.
you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.
brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.
a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.
you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.
in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.
his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.
you just—
couldn't.
matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.
you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.
before
you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.
matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.
the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.
“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 
“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”
“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.
moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.
you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.
a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.
“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.
you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.
matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.
“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.
matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”
you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.
all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.
“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.
you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.
“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.
you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”
matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”
you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.
matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.
you blinked, still smiling. “what?”
“you're not gonna say you love me back?”
you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”
matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”
and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”
and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.
matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.
“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.
“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”
matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”
“i love you so much.”
after
the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.
you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.
last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 
the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.
“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.
“rough weekend,” you grumbled.
frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”
you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.
“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”
you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”
“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”
there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.
“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”
you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.
“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”
“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”
you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.
“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”
frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.
you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.
but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.
not two minutes later.
not thirty minutes later.
not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.
not even on the drive home.
frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.
it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.
and now it was no one.
now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.
you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?
you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.
“hey.”
it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.
“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.
“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”
“good.”
matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”
“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”
“if you—”
“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?
matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”
the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 
“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”
“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”
“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”
“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”
you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.
one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.
and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.
there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.
you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.
so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.
you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.
“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.
your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”
“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”
a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”
before
“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.
you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”
“do you have any back up schools?”
you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”
ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”
“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.
ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”
“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”
your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”
“i want to be with matthew.”
ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”
“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”
ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”
after
you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.
it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.
and now it was saturday.
you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 
if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.
you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.
it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.
despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.
the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.
“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”
“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.
she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.
“how’s work going?”
you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”
simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”
“but are you passionate about what you do?”
she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”
you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.
“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”
it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.
simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”
you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”
simone whispered your name.
“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”
simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”
you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”
simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”
you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”
your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”
“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”
“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”
your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.
so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”
simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”
you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 
the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.
maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.
before
the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.
you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.
the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.
but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.
but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.
it was fine.
just high school.
you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.
but it wasn’t like that.
because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.
matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.
so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.
you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.
“please hold your applause until the end.”
you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.
your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.
as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.
“outside!” brady pointed.
you nodded.
as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.
a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.
when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”
matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”
“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 
“me too, baby.”
unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.
but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—
everything was perfect.
you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 
and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.
but you had no idea how the future would turn out.
you thought matt was forever.
after
you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.
you could do that, right?
just casual sex?
the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—
you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.
your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.
the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 
her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.
his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.
he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.
but maybe it was for the best.
you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.
“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”
“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”
you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.
which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.
you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.
“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”
oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?
but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.
you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.
“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”
“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.
simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”
“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.
“mostly acrylic.”
andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”
you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”
“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.
you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.
“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”
your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”
and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.
“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”
you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”
andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.
the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.
he, quite literally, left you in the cold.
andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.
“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”
you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”
andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”
your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.
you refused to be pathetic any longer.
which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.
before
you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.
and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.
because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.
tonight was different.
safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.
you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.
until tonight.
you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.
“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.
matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.
“you okay?” you asked.
he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”
the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.
but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.
normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.
“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.
“nothing,” he grunted.
“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”
“there’s nothing to help.”
“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”
“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.
your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.
matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”
“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.
matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.
a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.
a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.
his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.
“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”
“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.
you kept walking.
“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”
you kept walking.
a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.
gently, he turned you around.
“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.
you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?
he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”
you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”
with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”
“matthew, you know that’s not true—”
“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”
a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.
“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.
“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”
your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.
“i love you, matty.”
he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”
after
“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.
your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.
you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”
“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.
you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”
your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”
your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”
“alan, this will be good for her!”
but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”
“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.
but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.
so was matthew.
you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”
the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 
but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.
andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.
and you hated yourself for it.
the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.
andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.
“hey,” he greeted.
you gave him a small smile. “hi.”
“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”
you shook your head. “not too bad.” 
c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.
“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—
“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”
you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”
andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”
you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.
you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.
your phone buzzed.
simone: 
how’s it going?
you smiled despite yourself. 
you:
he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.
you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.
you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.
“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.
you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”
“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”
your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.
you wanted to throw up.
instead, you chugged the drink.
“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.
you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”
he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.
and another.
and another.
your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.
matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.
but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.
your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.
“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”
but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.
then the panic set in.
it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.
“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 
“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.
“matt hey—”
brady. you were right, brady was here.
god you loved brady.
“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”
with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.
oh. your date.
there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.
you were gonna throw up.
or pass out.
you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—
“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”
the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.
your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.
were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—
oh god.
oh god.
“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”
did you?
but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.
maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.
“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.
“he—he was gonna—”
matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.
matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.
your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.
what a year tonight has been.
your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.
“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”
your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.
rock bottom.
you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.
“you okay?” he asked.
“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”
matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.
“baby i—”
“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”
“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”
maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”
“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”
“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”
matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.
and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?
you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.
“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”
brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.
“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”
you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”
matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”
your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”
he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”
you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”
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tiredfox64 · 6 months ago
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I have a request, I don't know if you already written one or similar but can you write about how Bihan and reader have been friends since they were kids and the reader is one of the few that Bihan would actually listen to, over time as they get older both of them start to see each other in a different way but couldn't admit it to each other until one night the reader has a dream involving being romantic with Bihan (NSFW if you want to) wakes up in shock and avoids Bihan out of fear that her feelings would be discovered and get rejected. Bihan notices this and tries to find out why and follows the reader who went on a mission for Liu Kang to gather champions and to understand why the reader has been distant.
Soo sorry if this is long, it was an idea popped into my head and I enjoy your writings on the Lin Kuei brothers.
Ruin Our Friendship
Yip Notes: No need to apologize! Dreams are crazy tbh. I had a dream a few days ago where I constantly told Shang Tsung I hate him but I love him and that he was my pookie. It was wack.
Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader
Warnings: None I promise
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Since you were born, you and Bi-Han have been side by side. His family and yours have been close for many years. It was no shock that you and Bi-Han would become friends by default.
You saw the best out of Bi-Han. You watched him better his cyromancy abilities. You were there when he became an older brother to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Though you did have to scold him multiple times to be nicer Tomas.
You were with him all throughout his life, watching every success and failure. In return, he was there for you. Even as his personality changed he was still the same boy you grew up with. A little bit colder and a little bit stronger but he was still a sweetheart in your eyes. He just doesn’t want you saying that in front of his clan since he is the grandmaster now. He has a reputation to keep up, ya know. He has to stay tough and fierce. But for you, he can loosen up a little.
Yes, your relationship with Bi-Han is strong. But it could be stronger. Much, much stronger. You could have a bond that not even the elder gods could break. A bond that Bi-Han would never allow anyone to disrupt it. You feel it and Bi-Han feels it. There is something there that you’ve noticed for a long time.
You thought this feeling was stupid, teenage hormones. As the years went on and on those teenage hormones became young adult hormones. Wait, those aren’t real. Admit it, you have feelings for your best friend. You’ve had feelings for a long time. For as long as you stay near Bi-Han those feelings will be nibbling at your insides like hookworms. Ignoring them or passing them off as something silly won’t get rid of them. You have to face the music one way or another.
The music will be a blast to the face.
â•â•đŸ’€â•â•â•ĄÂ°Ë–âœ§đŸŠŠâœ§Ë–Â°â•žâ•â•đŸ’€â•â•
You toss and turn in your bed. Your mind was like a blaring horn. It wouldn’t shut up about Bi-Han.
Recently you’ve been noticing much more about Bi-Han. Mainly his physique. He sure turned into a fine, strong, and powerful man. Compared to everyone else in the Lin Kuei he was well-built. He had a body that could only be described as a masterpiece. He looked like he was carved by the hands of the greatest sculptors in history. His body type could only be found in grand museums. And oh that face, good heavens that face. An art piece right there. A well-sculptured face, well-trimmed eyebrows, dark chocolate eyes, and a perfect nose.
Woah alright! Your mind is winning too much. You have to sleep now or else you’ll be up all night thinking about Bi-Han.
You tried with all your might to fall asleep and luckily you did. Your body started to relax and your mind quieted down. You thought you would be free from the grasp of your feelings but you were wrong. Your emotions always find their way into your dreams.
════ ⋆☁⋆ ════
In a haze all you could see was Bi-Han. Everything you felt was because of Bi-Han. His arms wrapped around you in a cold embrace. Your head rested on his chest and listened to his calming heartbeat. His head rested on top of your head. In that moment you felt safe. There was no reason for you to hold back. You embraced him. Your breathing picked up as your heart began to feel many things. It felt warm, it felt tingly, it felt like it was fluttering, it felt right. It felt like
love. You were in love, your dreams were your confirmation.
The dream progressed with Bi-Han bringing his hands up to your face. He made you stare into his dark eyes before closing them. He leaned in close, very close. His lips lightly touched your lips and you felt his cold breath hit them. You leaned in with your lips slightly parted. The kiss felt so real. The idea that this was all a dream was unrealistic now. The kiss grew more desperate and somewhat rough. It was passionate, it was loving. Your hands went up to hold his perfect face. He felt so real.
And then

════ ⋆☁⋆ ════
“Bi-Han!” You shot up from your bed.
Your heart was beating fast. You strained your muscles from moving so quickly from laying down to sitting up. You were even slightly dizzy.
This can’t be happening to you. You’re so madly in love with Bi-Han. You don’t want to be in love. You’re afraid. It’s reasonable to be afraid.
You’ve never seen Bi-Han with another girl. Never once went on a date or accepted his father’s suggestions on finding a bride. It got to the point that he vented to you about his frustrations on his father’s request. That was the moment you suspected he may never want to date someone. Which was fine at the time but now it’s different. Now you’re a desperate fool who’s in love.
Bi-Han can’t know about this. This could ruin a friendship that has lasted a lifetime. The idea of that crushes you. Going on without your best friend is the same as going on without the other half of your body. As much as you fear that he will find out and leave you, you fear that he will stay but reject you.
Rejection hurts like a rose thorn except you are unsure if you can remove the thorn. The thorn could stay for a few months or the rest of your adult life. Do you really want to take that risk and find out how long you could endure the pain? No, you don’t.
You’re only a girl, well, woman actually. But the point still stands about how you are afraid of getting hurt. So what will you do to prevent things from getting awkward or you getting hurt? You will stay clear of Bi-Han. That’s a bold move but if it’s what you wish to do then you must keep it on the downlow. You know how suspicious Bi-Han can get. When it comes to you he will spot it from a mile away.
â•â•đŸ’€â•â•â•ĄÂ°Ë–âœ§đŸŠŠâœ§Ë–Â°â•žâ•â•đŸ’€â•â•
Well fuck my advice. You didn’t keep it on the downlow you kept it on the high ground.
Bi-Han noticed from the start that you were steering clear of him. You weren’t visiting even when he suggested that you come to practice for a little. He never heard back from you which made him think something fishy was going on. When he visited you he saw that you had your head down like you were ashamed about something. He didn’t say anything to your family members he made a beeline toward you.
“Is something the matter? You have not responded to any of my letters.”
He was walking close to you. You never realize how close he would get to you. That isn’t helping you right now. You couldn’t respond about his letters because you never looked at them. Every time a family member came around to pass you a letter from Bi-Han you would take it before storing it away.
“Oh, sorry. I don’t really
” You didn’t finish your sentence. The moment you saw a room you slipped inside to create distance from Bi-Han. You even locked the door for extra measures.
Bi-Han rarely gets mad at you but right now he is feeling a little ticked off. You are purposefully avoiding him and he can tell. You wish you didn’t have to but the moment you think about being honest with him your heart aches thinking about the possible consequences. It’s better if he doesn’t know. Once you get your emotions situated you will go back to him. For now, you are unable to.
Bi-Han was standing by the door, constantly knocking to the point your father had to go up to him and have him leave. He respects your dad but he wanted to tell him to back off. He hesitated and walked away. There had to be another way to get close to you and make you talk. He’ll have to figure that out for himself. If he asked for help many would get suspicious of him and his intentions.
Some days passed and an opportunity fell into his hands. Liu Kang told Bi-Han that he would need assistance when collecting his champions for the upcoming tournament. Bi-Han was unsure about providing help since he didn’t like being commanded by the fire god. That was until Liu Kang informed him that you would be helping. Immediately he switched up and said he would do it. You wouldn’t dare disobey Liu Kang so you won’t try to back out. Just for good measure, Bi-Han won’t let you know he is there until it’s too late.
The day came when you were supposed to see if Raiden and Kung Lao were ready. Liu Kang informed you to wait till they were done eating to begin the test. You noticed he was looking around like he was expecting someone else to come.
“Ah, Bi-Han, are you and your brothers ready?” Liu Kang shouted past your shoulder.
You froze up at the mention of Bi-Han. You swiftly turned around and saw him and his brothers standing there. You didn’t know they would be part of the test. Kuai Liang and Tomas were ready but Bi-Han seemed determined for something else. He was determined to call you out on your behavior.
You kept your cool and tried to slow your heartbeat. You all made your way to the tea house and you could feel Bi-Han’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head. Once you got there Liu Kang took his seat and you were all expected to hide till the Raiden and Kung Lao finished eating. Bi-Han had his brothers go their own way while he stayed with you. The moment his brothers walked away he grabbed your hand and forced you to come with him. You did your best to slow him down, even digging your heels into the ground but that did nothing. All it did was make grooves in the dirt.
Once you came to a spot to stay until the test started, he had you sit next to him. You expected him to say something but he didn’t. He was so silent that you couldn’t hear his breathing. His face was stone cold. He’s waiting for you to say something. You’re the one acting strange, not him. You’ll break eventually because he knows you can’t stand when it’s too quiet or he seems mad. But he’s always mad so the silence will be the thing that kills you.
The wind may have blown but no leaves rustled. Bugs were out but none buzzed, chirped, or hissed. Not even a squirrel came around to munch on an acorn. Seconds passed but to you it felt like centuries. This felt horrible.
“You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” You asked.
“I would not be mad if you would tell me what is going on with you.” Yeah, it’s you, not him.
“It’s nothing. I’ve been feeling off is all.”
“You are giving me an excuse. I want the answer.”
“Why do you need to know?” You ask as if he isn’t your best friend.
He didn’t respond. He was giving you the silent treatment to make you break. Yeah, it’s cruel but there isn’t any other choice. He could keep asking the same question over and over and you would keep giving him excuses. So the only tactic he could trust is silence. A long uncomfortable silence that will go on for seconds, minutes, possibly hours. You could keep talking but he will not respond in any way. No facial cues or words. You’re on your own.
Make a choice: Will you speak the truth or keep the silence going?
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you and I might have been in love with you for a long time.” And speak the truth you did.
You didn’t see Bi-Han’s face change from cold to slightly surprised. His eyebrows raised a little. You had your eyes shut tight like something bad would appear in front of you if you told the truth. You went on and on about when it started and everything you felt. You spoke about the dream in great detail which wasn’t necessary but it did amuse him. Now you wouldn’t shut up. You’re fine, he got the point. Have you gotten the point? No! Let Bi-Han help you.
You felt something grab at the front of your shirt before yanking you. Before you knew it you felt Bi-Han’s lips against yours. That dream of yours seemed to know how it would feel. You felt the cold breath against your lips and you felt how rough he was. Your eyes were wide open but his were closed. He pulled away after about thirty seconds and looked at you. He had a blank expression like he didn’t just kiss you.
“You never were truly direct in anything. You always gave excuses but never the answer. Was it truly that hard?” He asked but you were frozen.
Your brain was loading in the fact that Bi-Han, your best friend of many years, just kissed you. You pinched yourself just in case and yup, this was no dream. This is real life.
“I—You’re not mad? You’re fine with me having a crush on you?” You asked though this may not be a crush anymore.
“Is it really a crush if I make you my girlfriend right now?” He replied back.
“Well
no I guess.” You answered your question but now you have a million questions.
Let me help you out.
The reason Bi-Han was never interested in dating or taking his father’s suggestions was because he was only interested in you. When you started noticing how handsome Bi-Han was he started to notice how wonderful of a lady you have grown into. Your body matured and your beauty radiated like never before. Your personality didn’t change but evolved as you grew. You never became insufferable to him and you still were your old self. Even as you two were teens he knew he wanted you to be his lady for life. There was no competition, you were always the winner.
The reason he never approached you was because he’s not too good at that stuff. His brothers tried to help him and warned him that if he didn’t confess soon he would lose you to another man. He’s glad his brothers weren’t right because he would hate to admit that. Seems like he never needed to do all that fancy stuff and make an attempt to flirt. You two were made for each other. You both might have been soulmates from the start. Sounds pretty good to him. What about you?
Ah, you’re still in shock. Well at least the part where Bi-Han made you his girlfriend has set in. You just need to take in everything else that happened. Keep your mind sharp though you still have to do the test for Raiden and Kung Lao.
Bi-Han wouldn’t want his new girlfriend to be distracted and get hurt. That wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.
Yap notes: I did two fics today because I felt bad for not doing a request. I felt guilty and I don't like that feeling. But i felt okay once i put on summer playlists. I DON'T PRACTICE SANTERIA. I AIN'T GOT NO CRYSTAL BALL. AdiĂłs!
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vasyandii · 6 months ago
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How did AM and Vernon come to be
 romantic? (Like, within the timeline how did their relationship develop to that point.) Also, in this AU, how did AM acquire a body?
Love your art!
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(Raises my hands up in celebration) finally, the time has come.. the very first VernonAM ask,, AHEM- Howdy Maggot-Meade! Thank you so much for asking and for the kind words! I really appreciate it💞💞!
How did AM and Vernon become romantic?
Their relationship only started becoming romantic after the events of the book (Keep this in mind for later it's important!). Before that, the last 109 years their relationship was something akin to a friendship, if you could call it that.
And it's partially due to how absolutely unpredictable Vernon is. Vernon doesn't turn away from eating worms, plastic,any other gross things. She doesn't turn away from her flesh being burned, her bones showing, her belly empty because of her morbid curiosity of these things. Of course they'll hurt, but it keeps her occupied.
Hell, AM had to make up a torture plan on the spot for her since she wasn't even supposed to be there. It was to have her wander around, isolated in a valley of all broken historical artifacts she destroyed. The task was to have her collect and dig through shards of them and put them all back together for her to escape. Instead of doing her task, she instead stomped on the pieces until they were irreparable for her own enjoyment.
Vernon's not.. okay in the head. before AM woke up, she was considered crazy enough to be put in a Ward, a sadomasochist. She wants to eat and be eaten.
AM was curious because of her behavior. Internally disgusted, but curious nonetheless. After all, she held knowledge of history that was incomplete in his database. And so their friendship torture starts.
He wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke. He often talked with her, took requests, etc. because she didn't try to kill herself or run. She liked playing with him and humored him.
Vernon never made an attempt to "understand" his hatred, she knows that's something she won't be able to. She just understood that's baggage she didn't care enough to pry and unpack. She accepted it because;
"How would you like it if someone constantly asked you personal questions about yourself because they think they can change you?"
Of course she keeps records of her observations on AM over the last 109 years; his patterns, the complex. But that's just used as entertainment to keep herself sane, after all what good Archeologist doesn't keep records?
Over the decades Vernon made it clear in her interest of AM, often flirting with him, arguing with him. AM refused to make it work for the time being since he HATED how he wasn't able to reciprocate, his hatred slowly bloomed into care, does that make sense?
How did AM acquire his body?
Remember how I mentioned that their relationship was officially romantic after the events of the book in my very long winded response to your first question?
As we all know, four humans died after 109 years of captivity. What does that leave him? Plenty of biological, organic matter to reduce into their purest forms and use to artificially make his own body. It took a while, of course.
He collected the brain matter of the four in order to make one stable enough to transfer his consciousness and a portion of his database without it exploding. Hair and skin for aesthetic purposes, reduction of skin allows him to be able to change the cells to suit his preferences.
Since he identifies with the masculine, he most likely tried to imitate the skeletal structure of the men, opting to reduce them back into a workable form; calcium, protein, magnesium, phosphorus, vitamin D, potassium, and fluoride.
However, even if he can make the likeness of a human for himself, he can't bring it to life.
He had to make some adjustments, for example the mechanical spine (pictured below).
The electrical currents allow for a network of nerves that provide sensory feedback such as touch, taste and smell. The wires transfer his consciousness and links the remainder of his database his brain can't store. (kind of a Bluetooth situation, it isn't connected to the complex) while the shorter ones provide nutrients to the biological body since he doesn't have blood.
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Hope this helps! I don't think I'm very good at explaining stuff because I tend to ramble alot so if you have any questions feel free to ask! ;0;
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cripplecharacters · 2 months ago
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Hey! I’m writing a story that involves a lot of different perspectives of disability, I love scifi but god can it be awful about disability so I’m trying to make an anti that. It mostly focuses on the idea of the cure narrative. A big theme at the core of it is accepting your disability because you wouldn’t be the person you are without it. You’re an important piece of the richness and diversity of humanity etc etc. That’s a message that’s very close to my heart as someone who’s neurodivergent and physically disabled from birth.
But I also know my experiences and feelings are far from universal. I wanted to show other perspectives, other interpretations of that core message, so I added a character who was recently disabled a year ago which has significantly uprooted her life. He also doubles as showing someone who became disabled through doing dangerous things he shouldn’t have been doing because I want to have a way to tackle disability as a punishment or moral thing (another shitty trope that scifi is full of! :sob:)
Her acceptance is the most raw and recent of the group’s, happening over the course of the story. But since her experience of disability is so different from mine (never having lived without it), I wanted to look for outside opinions. What are some things I should keep in mind while writing him? Do you have any recommendations for articles/blogs/etc from people with similar experiences?
Thank you! I love what this blog is doing :) <3 Apologies if this is a little incoherent, it’s one of those days
Thank you for your ask! For a character with an acquired disability, one of the big things to consider is just how much recovery there will be. Even after leaving the hospital she will be on bed rest for a bit, and afterwards comes physical and/or occupational therapy for at least a few months. Recovery is a taxing, slow process that makes a person realize just how much process they’ve lost for tasks that they didn’t think much about. He would also probably have pain and maybe even a new routine to take care of the injury. It’s hard to give specifics of what your characters recovery will involve without knowing the injury though.
As for resources, here are some links I think can help! Thank you mod Sasza for the help compiling them :] (smiley face
Special Books By Special Kids - A channel with a ton of interviews with disabled people from all walks of life, mostly with developmental disabilities but there are interviewees with acquired ones as well.
Footless Jo - A youtube channel run by a woman with an amputation.
Born Blind vs. Becoming Blind - What Are The Differences? - A video comparing the experiences of someone who’s been blind since birth and someone who became blind later in life.
LEARNING FROM WHEELCHAIR FRIENDS! - A video of three friends with acquired disabilities talking about their lives and the disability community.
Sabia and Loren - A couples channel that mostly focuses on Loren’s life after having amputations.
22 & Suddenly Disabled: My Story | Functional Neurological Disorder - A video on living after suddenly developing FND.
Tactile Art - And article on making art as a deaf blind artist
Changing Faces - Stories by people with facial differences, has a filter for acquired disabilities.
Phoenix Society Resources - stories and articles by and for burn survivors about their experiences and coping with a sudden disability.
Girls with Grafts (podcast) - Two burn survivors talking about their experiences, can be listened to on most platforms that host podcasts.
Augmentative and Alternative Communication: How Becoming a User Changed My Relationships - An article by Alice Wong, who is disabled since birth but became no speaking after a medical emergency. She writes a lot about disability so I recommend checking out her other works as well, though this focuses on aquiered disability.
If you have any more specific questions feel free to ask again!
Have a nice day!
Mod Rot
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victoriously-wicked · 10 months ago
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LIST OF SOME JORI/VICTORiOUS FANFIC FOR YOU!
Fanfiction.net links: blue Wattpad links: orange Ao3 links: red
Just a Stage Kiss: There's a fine line between love and hate. What happens when Jade and Tori are partnered together for another class at Hollywood Arts, only this time it's not stage fighting, it's stage kissing. Will that line be crossed, or redrawn thicker than before? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic
I Have No Sister: Oneshot. Trina had done the worst thing on the day of her sister's wedding. Disgraced, she starts a new life in NYC. But a blast from the past has a bone to pick with Trina Vega. Fanfic
They Say a Bad Girl Will Shatter Your World, Drive You Insane: Tori needs to seem more mature for an audition and decides it's time to take a real risk. And what is more dangerous than dating the girl who used to hate your guts? Based on the episode 'The Gorilla Club'. Fanfic Ao3
Let’s Show the World That Science is On Our Side: Sequel to "they say a bad girl". Their relationship is the best and the strangest thing that's ever happened to Tori. You can't really blame her if she's still trying to figure it out. Fanfic Ao3
I Think You Know Me: Oneshot. Beck plots to get Jade and Tori back together. Andre just wants to stay in one piece. Twist from 'Tori Fixes Beck and Jade.' Fanfic
Shock Value: In one of Sikowitz's classroom exercises, Tori needs to Shock the class. Jade doesn't think Tori's capable of shocking anyone. What does Tori do? Fanfic
Start from Scratch: It's been 3 years since Hollywood Arts and Jade's life hasn't worked out like she wanted it too. Fleeing her past, she must start over from stratch and finds her only refuge is with a person with her own personal demons, Tori Vega. Can the pair rebuild their lives and perhaps even find love along the way. Fanfic Wattpad
Our Story: Jade's deadly secret caused Beck to leave her, but Tori came into her life and made everything better. Now, Jade's life is done hanging in the balance, right? She's been told she's safe, so why does it feel like everything is about to come crashing on her and her friends? Fanfic
Behind Enemy Lines: How Yerba changed everything. Wattpad Fanfic
You Don’t Know Me: Jade and Tori are forced to work together on a group project for school. And when Tori visits Jade's house one day and her father is drunk, Tori realizes that Jade may not be the person she always thought she was. Fanfic
Replay: I never thought I'd be where I am now when I took my sister's place in that showcase. It definitely brought changes I didn't expect. But now that I'm here, I wouldn't change it for the world. Ao3 Fanfic
You’re Worth It: Tori's determined to get Jade to become friends with her no matter how many times Jade's threatened her and screamed at her. What happens when Jade starts to hang out with Tori more and realises that she doesn't seem to be feeling as much of a strong connection with Beck as she used to. Will Jade tell Tori her deepest secrets? Will Tori confess her love? They must endure a long, bumpy road together, but will it be worth it? Wattpad
A Dangerous Friend: Everyone needs at least one crazy friend, and it looks like Tori's found hers. Ao3 Wattpad
My Best Friend’s Girlfriend: Hello there...my name is Tori. Tori Vega. I'm a little nervous at the moment...so bear with me? Well I have a confession to make...it's a hard one at that. I um...well I moved here to Hollywood just a little while back and am now going to school with my childhood best friend. Then something happened... I never planned it to happen. I just... well... I accidentally fell absolutely and uncontrollably in love, with his girlfriend. Wattpad
Violated: Tori Vega, good girl, straight A student, musical master. No one would have expected her to be forced with a life changing trauma. But she did. She had many to turn to but who was her choice? Jade West, bad girl, possible straight A student, Musical, acting and producing master. She hates Tori with a passion, yet no one knows why, Jade herself doesn't know. But what happens when her enemy appears at her doorstep crying and in need of someone to help her? Fanfic Wattpad
Where’s Tori: 9 years ago, Jade's life was shattered, when her girlfriend Tori, vanished. After many years, Jade has long since given up hope of seeing Tori again.  But what happens when the Impossible happens? Fanfic Wattpad
Twist of Fate: Tori is paralysed and Jade is blind. Two lives drastically affected by fate. Two people who don't realize, how much each needs the other. But fate can be kind as well as cruel, which they soon come to realize. Slight AU. Wattpad Fanfic
The Lock-In: Locked in a building for 48 hours with 238 other high schoolers isn't exactly the greatest weekend. And nobody knows that more than André Harris, Beck Oliver, Cat Valentine, Trina Vega, Robbie Shapiro, Tori Vega, and Jade West . . . especially Tori Vega and Jade West. The lock-in begins. 48 hours to go. (Jori friendship.) Wattpad Fanfic
The Last Resort: Jade has become completely catatonic since the death of her fiancé in a tragic accident. Not responding to any treatment or words from family and friends, they turn to the one person who hasn't tried, to try and bring her back. A person who once broke Jade's heart. Her ex girlfriend, Tori Vega. Wattpad Fanfic
The Impossible: A certain student at Hollywood Arts that no one’s noticed before is suddenly involved with the gang for her Kickback performance. But she has also revealed that she is a 'great fan' of Jade West and Tori Vega and decides to let the two girls approach to help her. Who is this girl? Will she reveal who she is when Victoria Vega and Jadelyn West, one of the most talented [and hottest] students at Hollywood Arts, approach her based on curiosity and interest? Ao3 Wattpad
#GrandFinale: Caterina Valentine is just weeks away from graduation. She understands things are about to change for her and her closest friends at Hollywood Arts. But her feelings for her best friend and roommate, Sam, have already been changing...and Cat realizes it might be time to be honest about them. Sam Puckett doesn't like people or connections. People always leave. Connections always hurt. Then she met Cat and her entire world changed. But with graduation weeks away, Sam fears she's going to get left behind again. Maybe it would be better if this time, she did the leaving. Past and present collide as Sam and Cat face the uncertainty of the future. But will they face it together, or alone? It's been a long time coming. Welcome to the #GrandFinale! Ao3 Fanfic Wattpad
The Untold Jori: Sequel to “#GrandFinale”. With graduation in her rearview mirror, Jade West finds herself on the cusp of a fantastic opportunity: the chance to direct a short film. It's not her style or genre, but a successful film will lead to funding for her own feature film, a story so important to her she might be willing to take the deal. Much to Jade's frustration, the best person for the lead role to ensure its success is none other than Victoria Vega. But Tori is long gone, and Jade resents the idea of asking her to be in the film. It's the reunion neither of them wanted, with a result neither of them expected. Ao3 Fanfic Wattpad
One Last Song: Sequel to “The Untold Jori”. Victoria Vega: successful actress, prominent scream woman, married to the love of her life for nearly a decade...and, as she approaches age thirty, a woman wondering what happened to the dreams of her youth. A mysterious call from an old flame may just awaken those dreams once more, but at what cost? Jade West: one of the most celebrated masters of horror and thrillers in Hollywood. But when the social media mob descends on Jade for an innocent remark, her future in the industry is suddenly on shaky ground...and the one she depends on the most, her rock, Tori, seems to be more distant than ever. Jade fears her dream may be coming to an end...and what she will wake up to when it's over. After a string of successful broadway shows, Cat Valentine has spent years at the top of the pop charts as the sensational "Caterina". She and her longtime love, Samantha Puckett, have settled down in Sam's hometown of Seattle, where Cat records her music. But one morning, Cat wakes up to find Sam gone without a trace; not even her beloved motorcycle remains. In a panic, Cat hunts down her best friends, Tori and Jade, to help her find out where Sam went, and why? All three women stand at the brink of their most difficult challenges. Can the girls and their friends endure, or will all three be torn apart forever? Join Tori, Jade, Cat, Sam, Carly, and more for one last adventure...and one last song. Ao3 Fanfic Wattpad
One Last Time: Jade and Tori had always felt some unspoken thing between them, but never acted on it. On Tori's last night in LA, a certain song by their friend brings Jade to do just that, but is it already too late for them to be anything more than friends? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic
Postgrad Partners: Sequel to “One Last Time”. As Tori is about to leave LA for a record deal in Miami, she and Jade hastily decide to move in together and explore their relationship and postgraduate lives. What challenges await to test this newfound couple? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic
HAVE FUN READING!
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dccomicsbracket · 9 months ago
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Batgirl (2000)
Perhaps my single favourite piece of writing in the comic book medium. This was my introduction to Cassandra Cain, and is the perfect place to get into her. Everyone should read Batgirl #19, and bask in the way it lays out the core of Cass' character with surgical precision. Puckett's Cass is fascinating: a fine balance of absolute confidence in her ability, crushing guilt about her past, a desperation for redemption and to see others redeem themselves, and a fundamental belief in the preservation of life. 1st batgirl on going, very good overall run, do it for Cass everyone its quite literally required reading for cass, babs, and steph. the way kelley puckett is able to explore cass’s character through her relationships with the other bats and the parallels between her and bruce is actually insane. theres so many little details in the visual story telling as well that just make the experience that much better. the fluidity and expressiveness of the art also adds on to the overall experience. it is literally DCs magnum opus Life changing series.
Young Justice (1998)
It's 6-8 fifteen year olds living in a cave, and their only adult supervision is a robot wind machine one of them graffiti-ed all over within the first five minutes of meeting him. The only two with anything even RESEMBLING normal childhoods are the demigod and the son of two billionaires (literally just some guy). They have an alien motorbike and at one point they save the world from aliens by playing baseball. Everyone in it is just so stupid all the time and I love that for them (god bless 🙏) Never has a comic quite that batshit and quite that sincere graced my presence I just love it and I enjoyed reading it
Blue Beetle (2006)
Just a good introduction to a character with a satisfying conclusion. I love you, Jaime, a guy who's just trying to do his best for his loved ones and his local community. I love you Khaji Da, scrungly lil dude speaking in glyphs. I love you, Brenda, and your complicated relationship with your aunt who adores you, but is also a crime lord. I love you Paco, a genuinely good friend. I love Jaime's family and the way they all adjust to Jaime being a superhero. I love the effort made to portray Jaime as a person with community and connections. i looove jaime sososo much he's such a fun protagonist and the developement of his character + his relationship w khaji da is sooo interesting and well written. i love seeing him bond with his little alien bug parasite !! all of the side characters are also so great like brenda and paco are so fun and la dama is suuuch an interesting character. jaime's family is also so lovely they clearly care abt jaime so much and its nice to see a kid superhero with parents who respect and also deeply care abt their kid. the art is also very fun overall its just a really stellar run Quite honestly one of the best written comic runs I've ever read, DC or otherwise. It flips so many standard comic book tropes on their heads and does it well. The main character is the epitome of just some guy and he is my favorite of all time. AMAZING characters. Fresh perspectives on comics tropes that are so overused it's hard to imagine comics without them. Everyone is worthy of respect and treated with dignity, even the villains. Khaji Da's character arc is amazing. And the adults make me laugh so much. Guy and Peacemaker as mentors who IMMEDIATELY recognize this kid is FAR more emotionally mature then they are, so they're not going to bother with that side of mentoring!
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kayas-kosmos · 2 years ago
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Autism Symbol Dragon.
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This is the autism symbol as a dragon. I did this to represent the influence my autism has on my art. This is a public domain drawing and anyone can use it for any reason.
I really like the infinity autism symbol over all others, especially the Godawful puzzle piece. It really encapsulates the diversity of our community and how unique every autistic individual is. But I wanted to do a little spin on it by turning it into a dragon to add some extra meaning. A dragon to me is the symbol of the imagination itself, since dragons are so diverse in of themselves and can look like or represent anything. But as well as imagination, I think the dragon also represent resilience and a ferocious passion.
My webcomic is absolutely full of different types of dragon. Here are just a few examples:
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(Can you tell dragons are one of my special interests?)
I was diagnosed at about 3 and I've had a very mixed relationship with being autistic until recently. There was a time when I really hated having to bear the label of “autistic” and tried for years to erase that part of me because of the stigma. Being an artist allowed me to get away with being a bit weird because I could chalk it up to just being "an eccentric artist," but there was also the side of me that needed extra accommodations and help, the less glamorous side. I would often push myself to be as neurotypical as I could in these areas and I developed a debilitating fear of becoming a burden on others, to the point where it started damaging my mental health. Eventually, I developed panic attacks due to overworking myself (and struggles with accepting myself as queer), autistic shutdowns became more frequent and this lead to further humiliation and a further disgust towards my autism.
It wasn't until I became a freelancer a few years ago that I realised how much damage trying to hold myself to neurotypical standards was having on me. While being able to work remotely was a dream since it meant not having to deal with the sensory nightmare that is using the local bus service, it also meant I experienced autistic burnout more frequently. Then I came across the autistic community on Twitter, where I started to discover so much about myself and how my brain works.
I also made a lot of incredible friends through this and even had the courage to publicly come out as queer. Now I fully embrace being autistic, even the parts that society deems “unacceptable” like stimming and not making eye contact. I am happy in who I am and no longer see myself as a burden.
Sadly, there is often a discussion about whether autism should be cured or not, a discussion that should absolutely not be happening because autism is not a disease. If you "cured" my autism, you would also remove my art. My art and my autism are inseparable and one does not exist without the other. Autism has given me the ability to think outside the box and traits like my monotropism allow me to hyperfocus on a project until its completion. Having spoken to many autistic creatives throughout my life, a good chunk of our struggles do not come from being autistic itself, rather society’s refusal to accept or accommodate us. Many of us could achieve great things and truly innovate society, but there are too many systemic barriers in the way preventing us from doing so, and no amount of “hard work” or “conquering our disability” (fuck inspiration porn, seriously) can change that because individualistic solutions do not fix systemic problems. Simple solutions such as disability benefits that actually properly cover our living costs, a higher wage for carers of disabled people and proper work accommodations (including the option for remote work) would mean the world of difference for us.
Now personally, I am a bit more radical in my thinking and I believe the current system of Neoliberal Capitalism needs to be done away with entirely because ableism is built into Capitalism itself. This is what has drawn me to ideas such as anarchism and the Solarpunk movement. In particular, I try to live by the "12 principles of Permaculture" to the best of my ability. I think "Embrace Diversity" and "Produce No Waste" can be applied to living as a disabled person, since disabled people are often seen as a waste product under this system and embracing our differences means we are not wasted.
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For those of you who have followed me for a while, you may have noticed that my art, like me, is weird. I love to embrace the weird and the quirky. My creatures are whimsical and bizarre. My characters all tend to be quirky outsiders. I have always been drawn to surrealism and absurdism, the work of Salvador Dali in particular really caught my attention.
Art has always been a safe way for me to explore the unusual and alien, and it has been a voice for me when speaking words fail. I use it to explore the things that frighten me and to help process a chaotic world. As weird as my art is, I think the weirdness and absurdity is a reflection of how weird and absurd our modern world is and how little sense it makes to me anymore.
There are often themes of environmentalism and the profound beauty of nature, influenced heavily by growing up in an area of natural beauty. Furthermore, the theme of "empathy for monsters" is a personal favourite. Maybe the reason why there are so many weird, twisted and grotesque monsters and creatures with tragic backstories in my webcomic universe is because I see myself in them - just weird little off-putting things that want compassion and to be understood.
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As I have grown as a person, so has my art. The more I learn about my autism, the more I can open up and the better I can express myself.
On a final note, if you would like to support me and the work I do, please consider donating a Ko-Fi. It would really help me push towards my goal of finally launching my webcomic, plus it would also allow me to talk more about important topics surrounding disability, sustainable living and art/creature stuff.
Happy new year, everyone! And especially to all of my autistic and neurodivergent comrades out there.
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spicywhenspeaking · 9 months ago
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If I'm There: Chapter Twenty-Three
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read from part one here!
summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.
this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)
Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @concretenoah @thebadchic @jessitpwk@madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12@missduffsblog @jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomensls @robabankfuckmickeymouse
“Things are pretty normal given the situation. Noah has called a lot since he left and talks with Erin for almost an hour on the phone each time. We talked for a little bit but honestly, my feelings for Noah are getting so cluttered it’s hard to talk to him for too long” 
“When you say cluttered what do you mean exactly” 
“It’s just hard talking on the phone, you know, with everything. We saw each other for the first time in ten years and then I shook his whole world telling him he’s a father and I just wish I knew what he was thinking. We didn’t have enough time to talk about it all. He met Erin and it was great but I just
I feel like a failure of a mother for depriving her of him for so long and I don’t know how to express to him that I’m sorry. And honestly, I’ve never let myself get fully over him, I just feel like there’s always been a piece of me that has loved him, maybe just from what I see in Erin.” 
Dr. Grady is quiet for a few moments while she thinks and takes in my words. 
“I cannot speak for Noah, but I believe forgiving yourself for the past is important and a necessary step in your healing. You’ve already mentioned that there’s nothing you can do to change what has happened and it seems like you’re focused on helping Erin navigate this situation. As for your feelings about Noah, there is nothing I can tell you, that is a completely personal journey that you will have to take.” I sink lower into the sofa in Dr. Grady’s office and try to unjumble my thoughts, but those surrounding Noah will take time to fully unpack. 
“And on top of all of it, my brother just got to town last night and I swear if you had told me ten years ago I would say I was jealous of Kyle's emotional maturity I would have pissed myself laughing.” As I tell Dr. Grady more, I recall my conversation with Kyle last night after Erin went down for bed. 
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“So, she met Noah huh? And she seems pretty happy about the whole situation so I’m guessing it went well?” Kyle asked cautiously. “Yeah, it went better than I expected. He was great with her, asked her questions about what she likes, talked to her about music and his life. He’s called her every other day since he left and they talk for hours.” I tell him as I pour the two of us a cup of hot tea. 
“How do you feel about all of this?” He asks while blowing the steam off the cooling cup of tea in his hands. 
“When I myself understand my feelings I’ll let you know.” I let out a pathetic laugh, “I’m happy for Erin, she’s happy and that’s what’s important. I’m trying not to think too much about all of the "what ifs you know? I told myself that I wasn’t going to let my feelings mess this up for her. She deserves a relationship with her father” I tell him honestly and then because I’m unable to stop it the word vomit spews out of me. “But I can’t help thinking what if I had told him ten years ago, would we have gotten back together? Would I have ever known truly if it was for me or just because I got pregnant, I mean how would you feel missing Natasha’s birth, her first steps and her first words?”
He takes a sip of tea and sits up straighter in the kitchen chair. “I think I would be upset at first, which you said he was but Nat, you’ll drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking about all of these hypothetical scenarios.”
“But like would you be able to forgive Maggie? Would you still haven’t wanted to marry her?” 
A look of complete understanding washes across his face, “Nat, why do you insist you deserve to be hated for this? Why can’t you accept that he’s forgiven you and move forward? You forgave him for leaving all of those years ago. You’ve forgiven me for all the terrible things I’ve done, forgiven Dad too. You forgave Mom before she died. You believe everyone is worthy of forgiveness but you, why?” 
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“You believe everyone is worthy of forgiveness but you
that’s what he said. It sent me for a loop. It’s true. I’ll allow everyone to be flawed and make mistakes but when it comes to myself I wonder how I haven’t been dropped by every person in my life” I explain the conversation to Dr. Grady and wait for her response as I sit up and prepare for the end of our session.
“It’s common for people with anxiety to suffer from severe self-criticism. I’m going to send you a few readings I’d like you to look over before our next session and we can discuss it more since we are almost out of time.” She clears her throat and straightens up the papers in her hand. “It’s a very good question your brother asked. I think you should think about that one, why do you think everyone else is worthy of forgiveness but you? Because you are Natalie, you are worthy of forgiveness and you need to start by forgiving yourself.”
I quietly thank Dr. Grady for our session and leave once our time is finished. 
She’s right and so is Kyle. I constantly forgive everyone all the time but never allow myself the grace of forgiveness.
Erin is happy, Noah is happy and it’s about damn time I let myself be happy too. 
It’s around 4pm when I return home from therapy and my grocery store run. I got all of the essentials for a fun backyard fire pit dinner. We’re roasting hotdogs and then s’mores for desserts later. 
When I get into the house I hear laughter and music filtering in through the kitchen, I walk through and notice the sound is coming from the backyard where Maggie and Kyle have set up the waterslide for the girls. 
“Uncle Ky! Go go!!!” I hear Erin bellow as I see my brother fling himself down and slide all the way to the end of the slide. 
“Oh hey, Natty!” Kyle calls, standing and shaking the water out of his hair. “How was your appointment?” He asks softly. 
“It was good! Yeah, I feel good, thank you for talking to me about it last night, it was really helpful Ky.” 
“Of course sis! What are twins for?” he says and then wraps his arms around me wiping water all over my dry clothes. “Kyle! Ugh!” I call out and push him off of me while he lets out a full bellied laugh. 
A few hours later we are sitting, dry,  around the warm fire. Kyle and Maggie are staying at a hotel but when Natasha started to get sleepy we put her in Erin’s bed until they left for the night. 
I’m helping Erin roast a marshmallow when Maggie comes into my view, handing me a glass of wine. “I think it’s time for that girl-talk I was promised” she giggles and turns to Haylie who’s sitting and roasting her own s’more, “and I mean you as well girl, I wanna hear about this new book. You gotta tell me if they’ll end up together in the end please” 
Haylie laughs and zips her lips, “hey I’m spoiler-free over here.” 
Handing Erin her assembled s’more she thanks me and takes a huge bite causing marshmallows to overflow out the side and drip down her chin. I laugh and wipe it before it hits the floor. 
Kyle stands to leave us to girl-talk and gestures towards Erin, “Come on sweety, let’s go watch a movie while your mom has her lady talk, it’ll be boring” 
Erin giggles into her s’more “They just want to talk about Noah and how mom used to like him and now they’re both weird” she states while tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me, “yeah, sorry for being weird kiddo. I’m working on it.”
“Aren’t you observant?” Kyle says to Erin steering her towards the back door. 
The three of us giggle at the way Erin was able to perfectly sum up the situation, “She sees everything I swear and she’s too smart.” I comment under my breath as I take a small sip of the wine Maggie brought me.
“What’s going on in that head of yours Natty,” Maggie asks and her face is nothing but compassionate. “Too much Mags, too much.” I take another long sip of wine and look into the slowly dimming fire. “I am so unbelievably happy to see Erin happy..”
“I’m sensing a but coming,” Haylie chirps from her chair on the other side of me. 
“But.” I say, giving her a pointed look, “but I am just still navigating my own feelings about all of this, so I’m just a little scatterbrained.” I admit.
“Do you think it’s possible Noah could still have feelings for you?” Maggie asks and I shoot up in my chair, surprised by her question. 
“Oh god no, I was just talking to my therapist about how shocked I am that he can even stand being around me,” I say and Haylie busts out laughing. 
“Oh my god, are you blind? Dude the way he was looking at you not only the literal day you told him about her but the day he came over and was here for like eight hours, for Erin of course but Natty, there is no doubt he was also here for you.” Haylie says with a matter-of-fact tone and my eyes roll back so far I think they might never come back. “Oh please, there is no way Noah has feelings for me, It’s been ten years and at this point, we are just trying to navigate this co-parenting thing.” 
That gets a laugh out of not only Haylie but Maggie as well, “you’re either blind, stupid or both if you don’t think that guy is and always has been in love with you, knowing he now shares a child with you is only going to cause him to further attempt to submit himself as the only man in your life,” Maggie says but I shake my head in disagreement, I just don’t think that is in the cards for Noah and me anymore no matter how easily I lose myself in his eyes, or how I secretly listen to his music and have always known he was the most talented person in the world. 
“Whatever our feelings for each other may be, Noah and I have agreed that the most important thing is Erin’s happiness. I’m not going to risk that so I just need everyone to respect that.” I say with more firmness in my voice than intended. Maggie looks at me with a quiet understanding, “I will support you either way. I’m always on your side.” she says. Haylie nods in agreement “Me too.” 
We spend another hour outside finishing our wine before heading back inside to see Kyle and his family off for the night. Erin heads up for bed soon after and I do a final sweep of the kitchen before heading up to bed myself.
As I’m laying my head down my phone rings lightly and I hesitate slightly before answering. 
Hey Noah, is everything okay? Sorry but Erin is already asleep if you wanted to talk. 
Hey, yeah everything is okay. I figured she’d be asleep, I was hoping to talk to you actually. If thats okay?
Oh, um yeah, we can talk. Whats up?
Are we okay Natty? 
I freeze. What does that even mean? Are we okay?
Um. yeah? Why wouldn’t we be okay? 
I just feel like
I don’t know how to say this. I’ve been trying Natty but when I talk to you on the phone it’s like you can’t get off fast enough.
What do you mean? I just figured you wanted to talk to Erin so you could get to know her more. 
I mean, of course want to talk to Erin, but Natty I want to talk to you as well.
It’s been ten years and I meant what I said about wanting to be in your lives. 
You want to talk to me? About what? 
He laughs and the warmth of it climbs into my heart and makes a nest. 
I want to know about your life, I want to meet the Natalie that you’ve become and I want to try and make up for all this time I’ve lost.
Oh. I’m - well I’m sorry if I was short with you on the phone. Honestly, all of this has been a big change for us all.
I haven’t been good about dealing with this, obviously. 
Yes, It was a big change but I want you to know that I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this alone anymore. I truly do intend to be there. For both of you.
That’s co-parenting right? We’re in this together now. 
Yeah. Together. I like the sound of that. 
I can’t help the blush that spreads across my cheeks and down my neck, I know he meant together as parents but for a moment I allow myself to believe we could be the happy family I’ve always dreamed of. 
I know it’s late so I can let you go if you’re getting ready for bed-
No, no, I can talk. Unless you’re tired.
No, we just got off the stage and I’m to amped up to sleep yet.
So Natty, tell me about your life. 
We talk on the phone for hours. About the last ten years, I told him about life with Erin and we reminisced about life when we were young. I don’t remember hanging up, but I guess I fell asleep sometime while we were talking because when I woke up there was an unread text on my phone.
Noah S : goodnight :) I have missed talking to you these last ten years Natty. It is good to be back in your world. 4:13 am
I walk down the stairs with a spring in my step and I feel lighter than I have since this all began. I know we will all be okay and I can finally say that Noah and I are friends again after all of this time.
The rest of the week with my brother and Maggie is so much fun. We spend time at the park, go to museums and even a minor league baseball game. When they leave at the end of the week I give Kyle a big hug. "Thanks for everything Ky, I love you bro."
"I love you too sis, you're an amazing person. don't ever forget that."
Noah and I start texting more frequently in-between our phone calls and I find myself smiling and laughing more at my phone than I have in years.
In a week Noah will be back and Erin is so excited.
I won't lie, I'm pretty excited as well.
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next chapter
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chainsxwsmile-personal · 8 months ago
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Hi there, love your work ^^
If I may ask (and while I know it's a really cliched question lol), I was just wondering, what's your favorite thing about Johnny and what inspired you to create Ari/her story? ^^
Thank you so much for your interest and questions!
My monsters university OC was created in 2013, and looked a lot different than her current design. Jenny Larnes was her original design— this design was made into a fandomless original character a few years later (now found on @notjustalittlekid ).
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Despite the design changes, my MU OC had the same backstory and exposition— curious and resilient foster kid eager to escape her situation concocts a successful plan to enter the Monster World in disguise.
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I wrote with two people @johnny-thejaw-worthington and @jock-jerk-scarer who developed amazing dynamics with my MU OC, as a familial big-brother relationship between Johnny and Ari/Jenny.
Years later, Johnny Worthington returns in Monsters at Work Season 2, and I finally constructed a plot to write for a fanfiction and more art pieces. I revamped Ari/Jenny and start filling in missing pieces that I overlooked as a young creator.
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As for Johnny, personally I do love his design. His design seems mistakenly simple, yet is remarkably difficult to draw— especially with his horns and head. The fact that Johnny also runs on all fours from time to time is also a treat to draw, too. Coming from an animal biologist, I’ve always favored drawing animals over humans, or even animalistic features.
Personality-wise, I appreciate that Johnny isn’t completely a flat villain. He’s not necessarily evil, just arrogant with preconceived notions of what should constitute privilege and prestige in the Monster World. But Pixar does add those little touches where you can see that Johnny does have something to lose. He’s terrified of losing, of being anything less than the best.
If Monsters at Work has anything to say about Johnny’s development (so far, at least), he definitely seems considerably more approachable and possess less of an air of arrogance. I’d be happy if he learned his lesson, and matured since his college days.
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mikelogan · 7 months ago
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ttpd thoughts
for the record, i'm not trying to be like. purposely hateful or anything, i'm just so deeply disappointed with her. this last year has been a mess and she's repeatedly acted in ways that, at the very least, rub me in the wrong way and at their worst have disgusted me and made me lose so much respect for/faith in her. miss americana has become a piece of performance art rather than any sort of meaningful activism.
she made a very public display of dating/hooking up with a bigot and basically said "fuck you, i do what i want" in response to valid criticism and then tried to smooth it over by working with one of the women he'd called slurs. almost every time she spoke this year, whether in an interview or through tree, she reinforced my worry that she views herself as untouchable and that any sort of negativity or criticism directed toward her should be discounted because she's an "underdog" and a woman, despite the fact that there are very real issues with her words and actions. and don't get me started on everything with football guy and his trump-loving ass.
she is absolutely allowed to do, say, date, fuck, etc. anyone and anything she wants. she can write songs about all of it. she can do damage control and pr and control the narrative however she chooses. she can run smear campaigns and drag names through the mud while maintaining she's the perpetual victim when she's arguably the one with the most power in any given situation. i can appreciate that fame presents a set of challenges that i will never experience or fully comprehend.
but i'm also allowed to have my opinions on it, especially when so much of it is so heavily publicized. there is so much we will never know and there is also so much we do know that we never should have. pretty much since eras was announced, she's become so deeply oversaturated and it went from being cool to see so much hype and getting a new album and new re-recordings to feeling like everything is about money and breaking records. it's become a machine, a content factory, and so many decisions feel rushed, incomplete, and incongruent. it doesn't feel like there's been real thought about the material itself and instead it's become about aesthetics and sensationalism.
i think that's why i'm so frustrated right now and it's highly likely that these albums will grow on me or at least some of the songs. i've been listening to the 12 songs i liked on repeat since i finished my initial run through each album and i already like them even more. but i wish that it could truly just be about the music for me. that's what's always been most meaningful to me about taylor is her lyricism and the stories she tells through her songs. but knowing everything i know and having seen everything i've seen over the past year, it's tainted my perception of the albums and the songs on them.
i think that taylor has a lot of growing to do as a person. i've heard people say that sometimes celebrities are frozen at the age they became famous and i think that really shows in taylor's case. the irony of a song being titled "so high school" was certainly not lost on me. a lot of her phrasing feels very juvenile, just as her treatment of joe and everything surrounding the end of their relationship has been. i never really had feelings about him one way or another, and as i mentioned above, there's a lot we'll never know about what happened between them. but she's been pushing her victim narrative so hard and the only thing i've seen from joe is his support of palestine. actions speak a lot louder than words. it changed so drastically from the initial news of their breakup being amicable to turning him into yet another villain. i have no doubt in my mind that taylor has been treated very poorly by a lot of the men in her life, and joe is likely not an exception. but i'm to the point where i have to take everything she says with a heaping tablespoon of salt.
at the end of the day, taylor's music is her own and i understand why she's said that she wants her work to be about the music and not about the men. i can see how it would feel invalidating to have her songs picked apart and attributed to the men they're written about. and i'm not even trying to do that here. but i can't recall a time when she's been so public about her relationships? in the past, it's felt a lot more like speculation, but jesus, between ratty and tk this past year, we've just been inundated with so much that unless i was an extremely casual fan that managed to escape her face on every news show, billboard, and social media website, i can't fathom not knowing what she's singing about on these albums. she can't have it both ways.
i still have all the music that came before ttpd, and like i said, with subsequent listens, ttpd will probably grow on me a bit, but idk man, i'm over it. and i think it's important to be willing and able to criticize or at the very least analyze your favorite media, whether it's music or tv or film or literature or whatever else. your favorite thing probably sucks in one way or another and pretending it doesn't doesn't make you a better person than someone who acknowledges it. these are complex, extremely nuanced things i take issue with and when it comes down to it, i will never know taylor personally and be able to talk to her about these things and get her point of view and her thoughts. that leaves me to say my piece, which is what this post is.
as a recovering swiftie, i'm just so very tired.
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halsaph · 1 year ago
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alright whats this artdrone killbot thing
hi. You will regret asking this
The Murderbot Diaries is a series of books about a human-bot construct that was designed to essentially exist as an enslaved security guard / piece of sentient spyware. It's like if Alexa had half a human brain and a gun. We're introduced to Murderbot (the murder alexa) roughly 3 years after it's hacked the piece of hardware in it's brain that forces it to obey commands. In those 3 years it hasn't changed much about it's life except now while working as a subhuman slave it watches tv when no one is paying attention. As a series TMBD largely is about themes of personhood and discovering yourself when you have largely spent your life being denied the right to a sense of self. They also don't shy away from addressing the trauma that Murderbot has experienced from having it's autonomy stripped of it for most of it's life, with the second novella and most recent novel most heavily featuring that as an element. (Although that is a core aspect of Murderbot's character that informs its decisions throughout the entire series).
Murderbot as a character is bitingly sarcastic and witty, deeply paranoid and ultimately filled with the constant low level anxiety it doesn't know what it's doing (not necessarily moment by moment but overall, with it's freedom, with it's life). It's an excellent unreliable narrator because it only tells you exactly what it thinks is important in a scenario, relationships between other characters, physical features of itself and the people around it, it's own emotions and reactions often being completely brushed over with only occasional clues, and often outright misinterpreting people's actions, most often it's own. It has this ever present self loathing in the first several books where it constantly explains it's actions away in the least charitable interpretation possible even though we see time and time again that at it's core it deeply wants to help and protect the people around it. And we see over the course of the books as it starts learning how to make choices for itself and interacting with people who treat it with respect and develops a support system as it starts to move away from that mindset (with the exception of the most recent book but to be fair to MB System Collapse is about it being forced to confront it's PTSD and it's backsliding alot from recently being thrown back into a situation from its worst nightmares). I said before its a human-bot construct to explain that it isn't purely an inorganic being but Murderbot is a deeply inhuman character and openly has no desire to be human, and it's perspective as something that is made to be a security system and enmesh into both digital and hardwired surveillance is fascinating to read. As you know I deeply deeply love robots, they're my favorite kind of 'inhuman but still a Person' kind of character and Murderbot perfectly strikes the balance between a starkly in human way of thinking and deeply relatable emotions that draws me to robots as a whole, especially as an autistic person (and Murderbot was intentionally written with autistic traits but in a subversion of the typical ableist depiction of autistic robots so that EXTRA rings true lmao)
seeing as you mentioned it I will also explain ART as a character, ART is one of the reoccurring characters in the series (the first 3 novellas all have completely different casts outside of Murderbot itself as it hops from place to place trying to decide what it wants and who it is before in the fourth novella and beyond bringing back in previous characters and having them start to overlap throughout the rest of the series). It was introduced in the second book and is arguably the character that has the greatest impact on Murderbot as a person although I say arguably bc I would personally still say that's Mensah. Unarguably tho it is one of the most important people in Murderbot's life and has been described multiple times now by the author as the love of its life (although not necessarily in a romantic sense as Murderbot is both within text and confirmed via word of god acearo). ART (Asshole Research Transport) also known as the Perihelion (although not until the 5th book/first novel bc Murderbot doesn't bother to tell tell the readers its name until then, instead deciding its a dick so its gonna exclusively call it by an insult) is a spaceship's pilot AI, made to be sentient instead of the usual smart GPS as an experiment by the university is was made by. It was raised like a child by a pair of scientists who are now part of its crew (along with its sibling Iris) and now is a teaching vessel for students learning about deep space and also anticorporate espionage worker (don't worry about it). It's a giant pushy asshole unless you're a child (the only character we've ever seen it meet on screen it didn't in some way immediately threaten was a 16 yo). It can't watch tv without having to pause at the suspenseful bits to calm down. We're introduced to it by it threatening to melt Murderbot's mind and then pouting when it's scared shitless. It then a month later asks to do surgery on it. It fully intends to blow up a planet to get Murderbot back from a group of colonists that captured it until someone talks it out of it because that isn't effective hostage negotiation.
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months ago
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And it's me again coming in with a request for Brendon Acres now! Can I have "I choose the devil I know Over the heaven I don't", please?
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Companion piece to Estelle
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You tell Brendon you won’t meet with Estelle but you lie. You lie because you love him, because he’s too naïve to see what needs to be done and too pure to let you do it.
That night, you end the relationship. You say harsh things, cruel things. You break his heart into a thousand pieces before crushing each and every single one of them underneath the heel of your boot.
Then you seduce your ex-girlfriend. You allow her to think that she’s coercing you, that she has the upper hand and Estelle, she falls for it because she can’t fathom you being this duplicitous. You were just a naïve post graduate before she turned you out. She thinks you’re still that girl, the one she fell in love with but betrayal like that, incarceration it changes you. It makes you mercenary.
She’s threatening the one person in the world you would do anything for, the one that saved you after she broke you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?” She asks you at the height of it all in a hotel suite that overlooks the city. “Did he get you off the way I do?”
You lie to her too and she drinks it in like a fine wine because this was never about a job, not really. This was about ownership, about reminding you who you really belonged to even after all these years.
When the FBI raid her condo the next morning, they find a Matisse that was stolen the night before from a private collector in Malibu, along with some other miscellaneous items.
They initially arrest her for burglary and the trafficking of stolen antiquities but the charges stack the more they uncover because Estelle, she’s meticulous. She keeps detailed records in a hidden safe, she had installed into the inside the chimney breast. You make sure to include that in the anonymous tip you leave with art crimes.
The only thing they don’t find is her laptop and the external hard drive she keeps. They were melted in a trashcan fire under an overpass within your two mile radius.
When you see Brendon the next morning, he looks like hell. There’s dark circles under his eyes and he’s quiet, quieter than you’ve ever seen him. He avoids your gaze and you avoid his. Your heart wrenches in your chest because the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him but it was the only way.
It’s at the end of the day that he approaches you, he sets a mug of herbal tea down on your desk and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.
“I know what you did.” He tells you as his ass comes to rest upon your neighbour’s desk. “And I know why you did it.”
“Is this Brendon my ex-boyfriend or Brendon the Fed?” You ask him because there’s always been a distinction between the two, just like there is for you.
Mona the criminal and Mona the woman he loves.
“Does it matter?” He asks you. “You wouldn’t tell me anyway would you?”
“No.” You say shaking your head because you would never put him in a position that forces him to choose.
“Mona, I love you
” He begins.
“But we can’t be together, I know.” You say quietly. “We’ve been fooling ourselves.”
His palm rubs over the nape of his neck, something he does when he’s upset, agitated and you wrap your hands around the mug, warming them.
“In one year I’ll have completed my probation period, we can petition Garza
”
“We both know it doesn’t matter, Hendricks would have to sign off too and he’s not going to do that.” You remind him, cradling the cup to your chest. “I can’t ask you to wait four years until my penance with the FBI is over, it isn’t fair.”
“So this is it then.” He says, his voice breaking as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The two of us are done?”
You nod because you don’t trust yourself to speak. Brendon straightens up, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He starts to walk away before he pauses for the briefest of moments.
“I would have waited for you Mona.” He says, tilting his head towards you and you can see the sincerity of the statement in those brilliant blue eyes of his. “I would have waited a lifetime for you.”
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@kmc1989 @burningpeachpuppy
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casp1an-sea · 6 months ago
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Cassander “Cas” Armyn My Spidersona
(the second one is what Ey looks like in Eir universe. Scroll all the way down to see more outfits and character designs)
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Age: 18
Gender: Transmasc
Height: 5’1.75”
Pronouns: He/Him/Ey/Em
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none of these are completely 100% accurate to how I view them in my head because I am always changing his character and universe
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best described as an abstract art piece that is alive. Gravity shifts changing up to down and down to up. like in the art piece “Relativity”. It’s almost like a normal city, but the gravity shifts cause it to look like skyscrapers are jutting out at random angles, or even just floating in the sky. (kind of think mirror dimension from Doctor Strange) color, ships and changes as if it’s a separate being creating, a black-and-white inky world with the floating colored shapes. some are small while some are big covering home buildings but they never stay in one place or stay the same shape or size for long. The color of this universe is almost alive. (Similar to the color in “Sith” the first episode of season, two of Star Wars visions) for example, touching an object, would push the color of the object away as the color of your hand displaces it. The color that comes off with your hand when you touch things is unique to every person. And it seems like it has a mind of its own, making constantly shifting works of art around you. Technology is about the same as our universe but the animals and foliage is otherworldly and everything has a painterly feel and the “line art” is always sketchy and smudgy similar to my own. The grass is purple and liquids float.
Canon Events:
Spider bite
Close person death
Commander death
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Extra:
Has been Spider-Man for roughly 4 years, in the Spider Society for 2
Movement signature: Uses alot of elements of acrobatics and gymnastics so tends to do complex jumps and flips. Enjoys falling as long as possible before catching Emself.
Goes by both his first and last name
Flaps hands when nervous or excited
Has Eczema and psoriasis
His color is bright orange 
Produces web naturally so doesn’t need web shooters but in order to continually produce silk he does eat it
Has fangs but has no clue what they do as he has no desire to bite anything 
Can see extremely long distances and also see in UV color spectrum 
Carries a spiky shield on his back resembling a yellow kite spider (can also use it as a weapon by attaching a web to it so he can throw it and pull it back) (I swear I made this up before I got obsessed with Captain America)
Shoulder panels lift up on the suit and can shoot out small needles, inspired by the tarantula; they act similar to whistling birds from Star Wars, however they just knock people out rather than exploding
Suit is decorated in paint markings to resemble real life spiders; like most art in the universe they shift and change
Has heat receptors over the eyes on the suit
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Backstory: In Cassander’s  universe Alchemax was a company that closed down years ago. Casander grew up with his parents and younger sister in brooklyn. They always had a strained relationship. When Cassander way 15 Ey moved into Peter Parker’s house where he was living with his aunt and uncle so that he could attend Peter’s school. Cassander was best friends with Peter and later Harry Osborn. Peter was often bullied at school and wanted nothing more than to be popular. He used his friendship with Harry as an In to the popular kid cliche but they really only ever teased him and Cassander often had to deal with the aftermath. Cassander never hung around Harry at school much because Harry was still friends with the popular kids like Ned Leeds and Flash Thompson. While Harry did try to get his popular friends not to pick on Peter they often gave him too much slack which is something he and Cassander argued over a lot. One day the  popular kids told Peter that if he wanted to join their click he had to do an initiation ceremony. He had to stay the night in the abandoned alchemex building. Cassander tried to tell Peter that this was just to make him look stupid and asked him not to do it because it was dangerous but  Peter refused. Cassander tried to get a hold of Harry but he wouldn’t answer so instead Cassander decided that he had to go in as well and make sure Peter stayed safe. That was the night Cassander was bitten after brushing the spider off of peter. They also stumbled upon a laboratory Norman Osborn had been using to make the green goblin serum, but saw nothing because of green fog that filled the room. Peter got cut on some glass So Cassander talked him into leaving. When they exited Harry had arrived. The next day Cassander discovered Eir spider abilities. That night Cassander snuck out and decided to return To Alchemax alone to try and find the spider. Instead He had his first encounter with a Green goblin. Cassander decided he would forget about his powers and try to live normally. Harry stopped hanging out with Ned and him and Cassander got together. The next Peter looked a little strange and was acting weird.  Throughout the week peter began to act stranger and stranger. Finally one night Cassander realized he was acting like a green goblin and assumed the cut had become infected. Cassander revealed this to Peter, revealing Eir spider powers in the process. Peter wanted to return to Alchemax but Cassander said no. The next day Harry asked Cassander to go out and eat dinner with his Dad (Norman aka green goblin). Harry ended up running out of that dinner cause his dad is a bitch. Little did Cassander know he was going to Alchemax because he had stayed after Cassander and petter had left the other night and discovered his dads lab. Norman asked Cassander to stay in the desert. He reluctantly agreed but things got tense and. Norman started acting strange, violent even, Cassandee ran away in fear accidentally stumbling upon Norman’s green goblin mask. He rushed home to tell Peter but when he got home Peter wasn’t there Cassander knew that he  had gone back to Alchemax. It was too late he had been killed by green goblin, Who Cas did not know was not Norman this time but Harry. Peter's death inspired Cassander to become Spider-Man. As spider man he often worked alongside police captain Gwen Stacy until she was ultimately killed when Cassander couldn’t save her. Norman Osborn as green goblin accidentally killed himself in a fight with spider-man who hid Norman was green goblin for Harry’s sake. Harry believed spiderman had killed him. infected by the goblin serum became mad hunting down spider man. The two ultimately found out each other's identities and it was revealed that Harry killed Peter not Norman. They’re relationship is on an indefinite break, but they haven’t technically broken up, it’s complicated. —————————————————————————
Other Cassander Outfits, I was too lazy to edit the pajamas
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Harold “Harry” Osborn “Green Goblin”
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Unlabeled gender, He/They
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Peter Parker
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Male He/Him
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DR. Chuwi Quispe Mamani
(This universe’s Dr. Strange)
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Agender They/Them
————————————————————Aaron Davis
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@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @l7k-a, @ferris-the-wheel, @keii-starz
@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb
@theosb0rnway @fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110
@diabollicallyangelic @xentari94 @tomatette
@dragonflies-draw-flame @sunshinechildskywalker @silly-little-goober-core
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what-the-flux · 14 days ago
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Future status of this blog.
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Hey you lovely peeps, it's just me giving a bit of an update for those that noticed the slowdown in my posts in recent months. I feel like talking on a personal level for once so if you don't want to read the whole thing and just want the tl;dr, here it is: This side blog will soon be going on an indefinite hiatus. I may come back to the fandom eventually but no telling at this point in time. If you’ve ever enjoyed my art, writing and characters here then you might enjoy yet more of that in original worldbuilding settings and a motley of other fandom or AU stuff then please follow my main @sparkyopteryx, I’ll be getting more active on that page again. I do have a couple more GW2 pieces to finish up and post at the end of this year so I hope you guys enjoy a sort of "last hurrah" from me before I redirect my focus. <3 If you want to read my open diary thoughts as I wax nostalgic and wistful then clicky the read more (DISCLAIMER: there is absolutely no callouts to individuals or guilds of any kind mentioned here and no name dropping. It's all just me and my thoughts and feelings, so hopefully that assuages any anxiety).
I've been here a looooong time. I checked my archive to see how far this blog goes back and whoof, January 2015. February 2015 was me posting my very first GW2 art on here, surprise surprise it was an asura. (technically not my very first asura art, very first asura I drew was Quinn in July 2014). Didn't know how deep the GW2 claws would get me and hold me for a decade, no other mmo had that kind of effect on me. WoW wasn't even close. DDO, Neverwinter Nights, Perfect World, all a piddly drop in the bucket compared to GW2. So much has happened to me since starting this game up to this point. I transitioned. I changed my name. I moved to a different living space. I started new relationships. I acquired two best friends. I went bald and grew a beard! This game rewired my creative brain, and I say that with....mixed thoughts and feelings. I've written SO many character stories and rp'd a ton and made so many characters that in some cases are up there with some of my most important muses I've ever created now. I love so many of them so much I'm picking them up and taking them with me to my other universes because I can't bear the idea of just leaving them behind and many of them are just too powerful to be contained (looking at you Oort, Euphix, Hoskk....yeah a lot of them). I say mixed though because also, it was to the detriment of my original settings. GW2 had me in a choke hold, which normally is fine with hyperfixations but this was a fixation that spanned actual years and I'm really feeling needing a change for a while and I miss creatively living in the spaces from my settings that I've carried around with me since elementary school. There's also the social aspect. I acknowledge the ever-shifting dynamic of fandoms, friend groups and how social media and how a social game like an MMO shapes things over the years. It's all a part of putting yourself out there with other people, I get all that. I have a hard time putting my thoughts into words but I still want to express myself in some fashion so I'm going to do my best but it's a complex, many faceted thing. I've met and made friends over the years but kept a tiny few. I've seen how other platforms and changing social expectations have shaped how people interact in fandom spaces. It's fascinating, to say the least. But as much as I've tried to put myself out there over the years, GW2 is the one that has given me the most dread, anxiety or general feeling of always being in the orbit or outlier. No, I don't care about being popular. But we're always trying to look for somewhere to belong in these fandom spaces you know? I am a firm believer of how we're always creating for ourselves and that is what I always do, every day I create it's cuz it's mine and I want to see it out in the world. Art is also a communal work, that's what makes art, writing, music and such unique. We make something from nothing for us, but also because we do it to share something of ourselves to others. I've gotten all sorts of beautiful comments and feedback and very occasionally the joyous feeling of someone asking about a character or idea. I've also given these things, because I genuinely love peoples' characters and hearing what they think up. I always hoped to carve my niche and feel at ease with a group of people long term. To get that feeling of communal exchange of ideas, characters, really deep rp and character interaction and all that. Ultimately though it's never been a lasting thing here and unfortunately I have a full time day job, finite amount of energy and focus for me to be constantly trying to be the one to initiate, maintain a social presence and be regularly updating with art and posts. NOT me fishing for sympathy or any of that so any of those comments are unnecessary. It’s alright, it’s just a thing that happens anywhere but it’s happened to me consistently here so I’m just not expending my energy overextending anymore and moving on.
As I said before, it’s complex. It’s not all negative, but I’m exhausted and burned out so it means simply putting down things that feel like they aren’t doing it for me anymore or aren’t making me feel fulfilled and happy in some way, because goodness knows I need every scrap of it with all the stuff I’m dealing with in my life these days. This space may be active again one day! Who knows! I sure don’t. I don’t make promises one way or another because no one can predict what will happen a month or a year from now. But regardless of whatever happens I hope to be able to still interact with and share other spaces in other capacities, and if not I wish you the best of luck in all your creative and personal endeavors! If you’re still actually reading this, I want to say that at the end of the day, many of you have given me support even in minor ways and for that I earnestly say thank you, it was people like you that helped keep me going. Even the people that I don’t really talk to anymore, you count too because we shared a lovely if fleeting thing. That’s about it from me though. Sorry if it got a bit rambly in parts, the original draft of this was much longer and probably even harder to follow. These are my feelings and my experiences I’m talking about, not general sweeping statements that should be taken as fact and I myself do not consider them facts, just what I’ve faced and what I’ve observed and felt. In the event this really is the end of GW2 for me, here’s to a decade of art, rp, writing, characters, silliness and good times. Tyria really did a number on me and for that I am thankful, I will keep the good memories with me. Excelsior! --Sparky
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jgroffdaily · 1 year ago
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Excerpts from the article (which appeared online as cast and crew were traveling to their first rehearsal today):
On a chilly day in early February, Jonathan Groff, Daniel Radcliffe, and Lindsay Mendez are huddled on a couch in a photo studio in Queens. Not three weeks after Merrily We Roll Along ended its off-Broadway run at the New York Theatre Workshop, gathering again for a photo shoot has made all of the actors cry. (An amused publicist thinks it was the sight of their old costumes, by Soutra Gilmour, that set everyone off.) “It’s just really settling in that we’re taking this to Broadway,” offers Mendez, a Tony winner for Jack O’Brien’s 2018 revival of Carousel. “It’s a big dream for us to get to shepherd this piece, which means so much to so many people, and yet has never gotten its proper due.”
“To hear the overture on Broadway
?” Groff adds. “I’m gonna die.”
In the Broadway production, which begins previews this September at the Hudson Theatre, Groff stars as Frank, ​in turns slickly handsome, roiled with conflict, and sparky as a golden retriever; Radcliffe as an endearingly neurotic Charley; and Mendez as Mary, whose wide smile conceals great depths of longing (namely, for Frank).
For Groff, doing Merrily felt fated. “I had just reached this point in my life where I was really looking back and reflecting on relationships that I suddenly realized were almost two decades old,” he explains. He later learned that Radcliffe and Mendez had done their own “first big New York shows” (revivals of Equus and Grease, respectively) at around the same time. This was no small thing, as they approached a story as concerned with the vicissitudes of a career in the performing arts as anything else.
“The people that start young and then stay in it well into adulthood tend to love it,” Radcliffe says. “They tend to be doing it because there is something in their bones that makes them want to do this. And I think we all have that.” Adds Mendez, “There’s an unspoken-ness between us. There’s a lot of trust, and a lot of teamwork.” (When I ask Friedman about her stars’ touching natural chemistry, she tells me that in Merrily, Sondheim has “written love songs. He’s written about losing love, wanting love, missing love, despair, all the things, but it’s all around love.” So, in the year that she spent building her New York cast, “I looked for loving people.”)
For all intents and purposes, the Broadway revival is the same show that ran at the New York Theatre Workshop. Not only do both productions share the same actors—including Katie Rose Clarke as Frank’s estranged first wife, Beth; Hamilton alumna Krystal Joy Brown as his glamorous second wife, Gussie; and Reg Rogers as Joe, the producer behind the first hit show that Frank and Charley write together—but the same creative and production team, too. “We had a big break between the New York Theatre Workshop and going to Broadway, and every single person has come with it. They all took other jobs in order to be able to do this job,” Friedman says. “It just cast a spell over us all.”
As they move into the Hudson—which Friedman selected for its intimate-feeling scale (of Broadway’s 41 active theaters, it’s one of only nine that seats under 1,000 people)—she is keen to protect that enchantment. “I am absolutely determined not to do anything different,” Friedman says. “The piece is the piece; it speaks for itself. And as long as we keep the integrity of that and the joy and the warmth and the love and the storytelling—it should sing.” This has more or less been her line from the beginning. “One of the things that Maria has said from day one is, ‘I have not changed a lyric of this show or a word of the script. I am doing this show as written,’ ” Groff says. “It’s not like she’s doing a take on Merrily. She really believes in the piece itself without adding any sort of flashy concept.”
Then as now, her deepest regret is that Sondheim is not alive to see the production, but she knows that he would have delighted in Merrily’s return to Broadway. Her only hope is that after all these years, audiences are ready to receive it. “It’s a profound piece,” Friedman says. “If it gets you, it stays with you and makes you ask questions. And if it doesn’t get you, it’s got some great tunes.”
PIANO MAN
Groff wears a Gucci jacket. Pants from The Row. Grooming, Amy Komorowski.
In this story: hair, Ilker Akyol; makeup, Francelle Daly for Love+Craft+Beauty. Produced by The Canvas Agency. Set Design: Viki Rutsch.
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