#perfect recounting of several little relationships

[brandwhorestarscream]

Reincarnation AU because I feel like there's some more chaos we can spawn with this AU beyond G1 thinking baby Prowl is sickly and G1 Starscream being a happy boi that baby/TFA Starscream is beeg. (Also, for people who are entering with no context, mama is G1 version and baby is TFA version.)

G1 Skywarp having TFA/baby Skywarp, who is terrified all the time and mama Skywarp has no idea what to do to make the baby not scared. Keeping the baby away from sharp pointy things seem to do the trick, along with really soft stuff like fluffy blankets and plushies that look like bunnies and turtles. Mama Skywarp doesn't understand why baby Skywarp likes turtles (especially that one purple turtle plushie he found that one time), but he isn't complaining.

Jazz being smacked when he gets baby Jazz, who isn't as sickly looking as baby Prowl but still kinda thin, if a bit more curvy. Mama Jazz now being protective of his child, now understanding Prowl's worries with his baby, but Jazz is a bit more lenient compared to Prowl when it comes to snow and weird weather.

Bee getting even more guilt when baby Bumblebee gets out of him cuz the baby is very precious to him and starts to understand mama Prowl's fury when mama Bee accidentally lets baby Bee get sick from the snow. Mama Bumblebee definitely isn't as strict as mama Prowl, but pays better attention to baby Bee. Bee would rather not be on the bad side of Ratchet (or the Command Trine) again.

Soundwave looking at bitty Soundwave and is just like "uh..." because give him a baby cassette and he's good, but give him an actual bitty and he has zero idea on what to do. He tries to hand the baby off to Starscream, but baby Soundwave doesn't like being away from mama Soundwave and makes his complaints very loud when mama isn't near. Starscream says that his trine will help, but are not baby Soundwave's main care takers. Mama Soundwave agrees. Ravage, Laserbeak, and the other cassettes find this hilarious.

For some reason, no one expected Optimus to also be a mama, and baby Oppy looks at everyone and everything with such an innocent curiosity they actively have to make sure that baby Oppy doesn't puppy eyes his way into a room he isn't supposed to be in. That ends up happening a lot since mama Optimus is trying to keep his baby out of the war and his spark breaks whenever he sees his baby terrified of something he shouldn't fear but now does due to the continuing war. Mama Optimus remembers clearly when baby Optimus somehow found his way onto the battlefield because someone fell for puppy eyes and had to watch Megatron tear off Optimus's arm with a spray of Energon blood. The baby wouldn't eat Energon without crying for a week and starts crying whenever mama Optimus goes out to fight Megatron. He has to promise to the baby that he'll return, but he has a feeling that one day his baby will watch him go out into the battlefield and never see his carrier alive again.

Uh... that got sad really quickly.

Swindle looking at baby Swindle and is basically reacting with a mix between "what the fuck" and "look at how cute is he c'mon Brawl look at how adorable that little face is". The other Combaticons are confused as hell, but take it in stride because baby Swindle is hecking adorable. Baby Swindle likes taking naps on any of the Combaticons, but loves sleeping next to mama Swindle's spark. They don't really know how to take care of a baby, but somehow manage to get their servos on some sparkling caring guides, which Starscream considers an improvement next to the absolute nothing Soundwave had to start.

That's all the ideas I have right now. Maybe I'll be back later with more.

Publishing this ask cuz I have nothing to add except to say yes, all of this is canon

[seelestia]

conclusion: aventurine likes being the only thing on your mind (to which he, in fact, is).

1.1k wc. established relationship, cringy fluff x10000 pls have mercy. petty & jealous aven says hi (ft. his beef w/ an inanimate object, help). a drabble hastily strewn together to celebrate my birthday on oct 13th! ‹3 as u can see, this silly guy is still in my head 🙏

aventurine likes to think that he is a man with sharp eyes. it makes perfect sense because if not, why else would he find sneakiness—or rather, attempts at it—to be so endearing?

all the more so, considering how you've been glancing at the display case behind him for a while now.

thrice, four times, five times. the way you try to catch more glimpses of it eventually grows from tentative to curious. he wonders if you caught on that he's been keeping track of this very top secret, very well-hidden agenda of yours – but as your eyes wander from his face for the nth time, he guesses not.

are the story he's recounting and the cup of sundae you're sharing with him not riveting enough? to have your attention be so easily stolen by whatever thing in whatever shop behind him. . . the mere thought is enough to form some kind of pull at the corners of his lips. it's insistent, it's going downward, and it's costing him some significant ounces of self-control not to pout.

(do you think the pendant is prettier to look at than him? hm, he's feeling neglected.)

but playing the fool is getting boring; finally, aventurine decides it's time to shed his veil of ignorance and lets his acknowledgement of your actions be known within the form of a jovial question.

“does it strike your fancy?” he asks, scooping a spoonful of melting sundae to his lips with a lack of enthusiasm. it tastes good—would taste better if he had your full attention and if you were the one feeding him—but alas, he digresses.

you blink, taken aback. no doubt it's at the fact you're caught red-handed. adorable, he thinks to himself. “it looks pretty,” you reply with a sheepish smile, the awe in your voice doing very little effort to conceal itself. so adorable, his mind chimes in again.

(aventurine still thinks there are better sights out there, though. like you in his eyes and him in yours, for example.)

he notices the vague hint of affection in your tone and suddenly, his interest is piqued to its limit. you rarely use that tone unless it's directed at him. when the frivolous merchant turns around to have a look for himself, his motions are oddly quick and swift – definitely not fueled by a sense of rivalry or anything of that sort. absolutely not.

in any case, he still takes in the sight of the accessory with professionalism. in the wide cosmos, aventurine has come across many of its kind that he either bought for his own collection at the cost of a pretty penny or won in a gamble at the cost of his life. your fascination with it is justified, he'd say, take it from the perspective of an avid collector.

a quaint design, smooth surface, intricate carvings, reasonable price (he doesn't mind the jaw-dropping amount of zeros), and from a make he's heard of before. . . but he'll stop at that because if he says more, he'd surely lose his appetite and the sundae still has a few more spoonfuls left.

(whatever, he's still feeling vengeful towards that thing.)

ironically, though, aventurine's eyes are the ones who wander this time as they flit from your profile to the display. back and forth, a few times in succession. you tilt your head in confusion – but all he requires is only several seconds of your time to accurately visualize the pendant adorning your features. luckily for him, your face is such a familiar sight in his memory that the vision forms itself quite effortlessly.

and when aventurine finally takes a moment to admire the finished image in his head, he smiles contentedly. who wouldn't, at the face of a beauty like yours?

“mhm,” he says dotingly, evidently satisfied at the conclusion he arrives at. “it'll look good on you.”

it's not difficult to predict what comes next when he starts reaching for the card in his pocket – or so, he thought as the sound of your laughter stops him dead. yes, you're laughing, so heartily to the point that your shoulders shake a little.

aventurine expects a demure shake of the head or a weary sigh as he eagerly offers to spend credits for you, yet again. it's common knowledge that he favors spoiling you with his riches: because he likes pretty things and he likes you, thus it's understandable why he likes you in pretty things. but this? he isn't expecting this.

of course, the sight of your expressing mirth at the silliest of things has always been kept framed in his mind but as happy as he is to see it, it still doesn't change the perplexed state he is left in. what, does he have sundae smeared on his face or something?

“thanks, but—” you giggle, a familiar melody that flows like silk to his ears. “i was thinking about how it'd suit you, silly.”

a moment of silence, just enough to let the realization sink in.

“. . .me?” the slight disbelief in aventurine's voice is unmistakable.

“yeah,” you nod with a hum, “the color really brings out your eyes.”

(and his pathetic heart skips a beat.)

oh, how a poor man's world could be flipped upside down with just a sentence. the said man dramatically places a hand over his face as if to shield himself from the light radiating off your very being. “how disappointing. i've fallen right into your trap,” he relents with a long sigh so exaggeratedly that you have to stifle a chuckle at his reaction.

he's smiling so widely, though, so is he truly disappointed? and to that, aventurine will confidently say: no, there is no reason to be disappointed when he has been the one occupying your thoughts all along.

(so, the bad blood with that pendant was for nothing, after all.)

“you're so mean to me sometimes,” he pouts, it's his right to do so after being tricked. “will you forgive me then?” you smile, then he melts just like that in the snap of a finger.

“i can never say no to that,” aventurine sighs in defeat, leaning in for a kiss to soothe his non-existent wounds. it's not like you want to say no to him either.

“wait—” you place a hand on his chest and he makes a questioning noise that sounds akin to a whiny huff. then, a gentle sensation as your thumb brushes against a certain spot on his cheek. “you got sundae on your face,” you chuckle, failing horribly at trying to hold in your laugh all over again.

darn it.

“c'mere—”

all kinds of self-restraint and public image be damned, aventurine immediately closes the distance without further delay – and when his lips meet yours, nothing else matters.

yes, not even the sundae that has melted into sugary soup by now.

[ ☆ THANK YOU FOR READING! © seelestia on tumblr, oct 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own. ]

[wisterialagoon]

Alastor x Reader - Comfort Fic

Warnings: established relationship, probably ooc alastor, comfort, reader is grabbed (not by alastor) reader curses :P

Btw! Please do send in Hazbin requests, I do sfw and nsfw :)

You had been having a miserable day. You woke up in a sour mood, but the feeling only worsened when you realised you had woken up in bed alone.

Presumably your husband had left early to head to his broadcast studio. You then had several run-ins with the most insufferable sinners throughout your day, but this, this was ridiculous.

You had been standing in the lobby, by the check-in desk trying not to burst into stress tears as a rather tall intimidating demon stood there screaming his lungs out at you.

"I already told you sir, I cant get you a room unless you want to be redeemed, this isn't a normal hotel," you stress to the demon before you.

He unfortunately doesn't take the refusal well, gripping the collar of your favourite dress, ripping it slightly.

The demon has you in a strong hold pulling his face right up to yours, you grimace at his breath brushing your face. Your feet barely reaching the floor anymore.

"Sir you need to let go of me now!" you damn near shriek in fury. The commotion catches the attention of a few of the hotels residents, the demon finally drops you when he realises he's drawn a crowd, opting to leave before things went south for him.

"Y/N!" You hear Charlie's panicked yell as she comes up to you, helping you to your feet, "Are you okay? D-do you need anything, I'll have Vaggie deal with that demon don't worry!"

"Its alright Charlie," You steady yourself, taking a deep breath, "just give me the rest of the afternoon off, yeah?"

"Of course, please, go rest."

With that you head off to your room, you pull off your dress and get into your night gown. You inspect the collar of your dress to see it in tatters, this unfortunately was your tipping point.

You're now sitting in the middle of the bed crying your eyes out, clutching your dress. You're so in your feelings, you don't even notice Alastor has slipped in until hes sitting next to you and pulling you into his arms.

You still for a moment but ease into the embrace, soaking his shirt in your tears.

When you had calmed down a bit Alastor cups your face, making you look into his eyes, "Charlie told me what happened my dear, I do wonder why you didn't make that wretched sinner pay, hmm? You're more than capable." He tilts his head, a questioning look in his eyes.

"I didn't want to cause a scene and bring a bad reputation to the hotel, sinners should want to come here," you sniffle.

"Au contraire my dear, you shouldn't be afraid to kill those that wrong you, if demons fear you, it keeps them in their place! Anyhow, what's done is done, I'm more concerned with the fact that my, usually very dauntless wife is crying all on her own." Alastor taps your nose gently.

"Bad day, bad, terrible, awful day Al," tears begin to flood your eyes again just thinking about it.

Alastor chuchles softly as he pulls you to straddle his lap, softly running his fingers through your hair. "Oh you poor sweet thing," He listens carefully as you recount your day to him.

"And to top it off, t-that dickless bastard tore my favourite dress" you finish, words getting caught between your sobs.

"Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about that, I'll have it mended in a jiff, instead, worry about what you'll wear Tonight!"

You look up at him curiously, "Tonight?"

"Well of course I'm treating you to a perfect night out, I can't in good conscious let my sweet wife wallow in her sadness all night can I?"

You perk up at this. Your husband is a busy demon, its not often you get him all to yourself. "The whole night?" you say with big eyes.

"You'll have my complete undivided attention all night long my dear!"

You jump up at this, racing to find an outfit all while Alastor happily watches you showing him different dresses, shoes and jewellery.

He makes a mental note to quickly pop out and find the demon that laid his hands on you, Vaggie was so kind as to provide him with a description.

[rwrbficrecs]

First monthly faves for 2024 !! ❤️

Leave a message by @sherryvalli (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some cute, heart-melting fluff? This is a one-shot that recounts Alex’s voicemail messages over the years from those who care about him - including Henry.

would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine) by ohprongs (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a strictly come dancing AU with a lot of feelings that I've been thinking about ever since i read it!!!

even though we know it isn't true by @matherines (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: for everyone struggling with academic pressure, or anyone, really. it's pretty sad but of course there's comfort personified in Henry!!

beyond infatuation, how obsessively i adore you by @waterloolovers (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a new fandom classic if you ask me. Henry works at the daycare Alex's daughter goes to and their relationship progresses really naturally. the kid content in this fic is some of the cutest i have ever read and this is the perfect fic to go on your reread list for comfort.

And They Were Roommates by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry get to know themselves and each other after they move in together. This story is not sugarcoated at all, very realistic - just how life is, and so so sweet. Also, unfortunately, rather short, but still worth the read - as are many other stories by this author, such as the 'Las flores' series.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: A little late to the game but I finally read E.J's Christmas story. Her way of story telling doesn't disappoint in this shorter tale (by her standards). It's not lighthearted and it touches some difficult topics (mostly canon) but it's all worth it because of the way they fall in love through Christmas Eve/night. Can't recommend it enough!

Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: 31 short chapters that are just really fun to read! Some are post-canon or canon-compliant, others are AUs - but in all of them the characters are so beautifully drawn, true to how we know and love them! A vet AU, a hospital AU, major fluff, even an X-Files AU - and who knows, maybe one or two dribbles will turn into more?! Fingers crossed!

The Art of Losing by bigfishbigpond (book-verse)

@dot524: If you think the mid-story breakup should have been longer and more angsty, here’s the story for you. An interesting and heartfelt story of what Henry and Alex are like apart, and what pulls them back together.

I know that you hate me (Do you though?) by @arand0mdutchgirl (book-verse)

@magnificentandcoolfez: A bit of good ADHD angst (with some comfort ofc). I like the focus on how hard adhd can be and it's a short and good read for those who like comfort that comes in the shape of your crush holding you until you feel grounded again.

blushing ears and beating hearts by @kill8a (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This story is not just slow burn, it is glacial burn. It's an college AU, set in New York, and so slow, so tender, so fluffy - after reading it I was floating on cloud 9 for quite a while. I don't know if you feel the same way, but it's funny how changing one given variable somehow changes the whole dynamic between the two of them. Or is it just me?! Either way, it's so wholesome to tag along as their love blossoms, I still feel so hugged and cared for.

all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a post-apocalyptic story that is unlike any other. There are no zombies or gore, but instead it focuses on rebuilding and the softest love growing between Alex and Henry, surrounded by family and friends. I kinda wanted to live there by the end of it.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: several fairy tale tropes meet to create this absolutely amazing story. It has dreaminess of a fable, best kind of yearning of your favourite slow burn fics and a little bit of adventure of a fantasy novel.

but to say that I'm a rainbow, to tell me that I'm bright (when I'm so used to feeling wrong, well, it helps me feel alright.) by What_Is_A_Mild_Opinion (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Fandom is really sleeping on this one! This story is a canon rewrite with characters reimagined as creatures with animal characteristics. The wordbuilding is so fantastic that even if you are not a fan of long fics following canon step by step, it's absolutely worth to check this even for a chapter or two and get to know these wonderful versions of Alex and Henry. (Alex is literally rainbow.)

safe with me / more than I ever (in a thousand years)by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think the author is very well known among all rwrb fanfic readers. I really, really liked these two stories, like a lot: Two 5+1 fics, one from Pez's point of view, the other from Bea's - unfortunately both characters are given too little attention in the book imho. As expected, both narrators are sharply observing, protective of Henry, loving, honest, tender - and you end up loving Henry (and Alex) even more.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Romantics 🎸 | Pete Mitchell Imagine

Part of my 'Y/n & The Romantics' TGM AU verse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic)

content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @fangirlvibez) 🩶

Premise: After two years since getting the band back together, Y/n and The Romantics have got the opportunity most artists dream of getting when they've achieved legendary status in their career: a documentary film. Recalling the days of discovery, early stardom and the love she found along the way, frontwoman & daughter of Rock n' Roll Y/n L/n-Mitchell writes a love letter to not only her fans, but the pilot who captured her heart...and the little girl with a voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar.

Note: I've said it and I'll say it again, writing dagger squad x famous!reader is in my top 3 pairings I've written for, and it makes me so happy that after two plus years of doing them, you guys love them and continue to request them--even when I've been slacking on getting through requests. This request was the spark I needed and once I started typing, it never stopped. Again (like every note in my works the past several months) I'm sorry for the wait and I hope this gives you everything you hoped for. 🩶

---------------------------------------

3….2….1…

“Are we rolling?” Y/n laughed, apologizing to the producers and crew in front of her when she realized they had already begun filming when she was off in la la land singing ‘How Will I Know,’ by Whitney Houston under her breath while an assistant made sure the mic was secured on her t-shirt.

“Yes, Ms. Y/n,” the lady in an all red pantsuit chuckled, adjusting her headset and motioning for the cameraman to not stop the camera. “But don’t worry we’ll edit it out.”

They were not going to edit it out. In fact it was going to be the opening sequence to Y/n’s personal bits. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” the rockstar hid her face with a hand, but then remembered she valued her life and would not ruin the masterpiece her makeup artist had created. “I’m sorry--I’m ready when you are, darling.” 

To celebrate the 45th anniversary of the release of their first song, Y/n & The Romantics were approached by HBO to film a documentary recounting their early days of their group, the height of their career, the twenty-year hiatus, and finally their reunion with a crew following them during the American leg of their 2024 world tour. It was an exciting opportunity. One the band--and especially their lifelong fans--were delighted. 

It’d been two years since their return to music. Together as a group that is. And not once had it lost its thrill. Releasing two albums, going on back-to-back World Tours, winning two Grammy’s and three Moonman. Performing at the Billboard Music Awards where they received the Icon Award. A song from their early albums featured on the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 soundtrack. 

Things were looking great. Perfect.

Now Y/n sat in the comfort of her home, dogs taking claim to areas not occupied by the many crew members, recording her personal interviews for the documentary while Pete and Rooster worked in the garage to pass time until Y/n and Pete were to do their piece. 

The producer adjusted herself in the chair, clipboard in her lap, “So, Y/n, I’m going to ask some relatively basic questions, but just speak what your heart desires. Sounds good?”

She gives a thumbs up, “sounds great.”

“I guess we’ll start by having you introduce yourself,” a few chuckles rang out. Y/n letting out a giggle as the producer shrugged with a smile. “I know, I know. We know you but for this part we’ll be showing flashbacks of your early childhood.” 

“Okay, okay. No pressure.” Y/n got comfortable. Looking straight at the camera, Y/n gave a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter and frontwoman of Y/n and The Romantics. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia and I will not disclose my age,” she winked, chuckling with the crew. She recently celebrated her 60th birthday. “You can google that information.” 

“Can you tell us about what your childhood was like? For those who may not know, how did you and the others meet?”

Y/n inhaled deeply, the memories of growing up in the late 60s and early 70s surfacing. Replying in her mind like an old film. Beaming as she recalled, “we all lived on the same block--went to the same elementary school and junior high before we got signed. Maya and I were neighbors, Evan lived across the street. Danny and Ronnie were up the road, closest to a convenient store we’d go to on the weekends to grab a coke or smoke a cigarette. We rode the same bus, had the same teachers. If I wasn’t at Maya’s, we were down at Ronnie’s or one of the guys. Chilling in the garage listening to the Beatles and B.B. King or taking the city bus to our favorite record store.”

A distant look in her eyes appeared when she began talking about her family. Both sets of grandparents died before she reached 21. Luckily they were able to witness Y/n’s career take off but missed out on major milestones. A few cousins passed on over the years, as did many friends. Unfortunately, her father greeted the other side when she was 45. And while it’s been fifteen years since, not a day goes by where she didn’t think of him. As for her mother, she just turned 90 and was still kicking. 

“My parents were working class citizens, who worked their tail off to provide for us. My father actually worked at the same company with Evan’s dad. Then mine, Ronnie’s, and Maya’s mom were part of the same social circle.” Exhaling, Y/n tilted her head with a small smile, “I had a good childhood. One many kids would wish for---a loving family living in a nice house. Yeah there were times where my parents had to forgo a home cooked meal in favor of keeping the lights on one more night. Occasionally birthday presents were postponed until a month after our birth date. But, we were happy. We had each other, and that’s all that mattered.”

Taking a sip of water, Y/n cleared her throat while adjusting her position on the couch, the producer asking, “When did you first fall in love with music? You mentioned you guys would go to the record store and in earlier interviews how you guys' covered musicians on the streets of Atlanta--which evidently is how you were discovered. Did you always want to pursue the industry as a rock band or did it come as a surprise.”

“A little bit of both,” she answered honestly. Y/n thought back to years leading up to their discovery. Their small, humble setup with secondhand instruments they got from yard sales with saved up allowance money. Claiming a corner near the busy intersection of downtown Atlanta which was now known as Olympic Centennial Park following the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games. Keeping their guitar cases open for when passer byers dropped coins or loose bills. 

Was it the safest idea? Not really. But it was 1978 and things were different. People left their cars unlocked. One could ask a stranger for a cigarette or a ride down the street without a second thought. 1978 was a memorable year as the year the Women’s Army Corps came to an end, the discovery of Pluto’s first moon, the first IVF baby conceived, and Harriet Tubman became the first African American woman on a postage stamp. Georgia opened the first ever Home Depot, and native Jimmy Carter was president of the United States. 

“Music was always there growing up,” she explained. “My parents collected records--my mother always had one playing when cleaning or cooking. Either that or the radio was on. For my seventh birthday I received a wooden harmonica and boy was it the best gift ever,” she hummed with a smile. 

She still had that harmonic. It was on a shelf in her bedroom, right next to the picture frame holding the tickets and signed program from the Elvis Presley concert she attended in 1976. 

“Any allowance or birthday money I got was put in my piggybank--which was then cashed in on a used 1940s Fender Esquire I got from a yard sale for all of $40. And before you say anything--,” she pointed a finger, “$40 was a lot back in the day even if it was used. Especially for a twelve-year-old.” 

Like the harmonica, the first guitar Y/n ever owned was on display on the wall where the rest of them were. Beside her legendary hot pink ‘Dirty Shirley’ Fender Stratocaster and Elvis’s 1960 Gibson J-200 famously used in his 1968 comeback special.

“Of course the dream was to be discovered, signed, make music and be able to say we got to live the dream. Even if it was for a short amount of time,” Y/n talked with her hands, “but it was a shock. Never did we expect it would’ve happened the way it did. I mean c’mon,” a playful left her lips, leaning forward to emphasize her words, “we were fourteen! High school was about to start for us and there was no way in hell my parents would accept me dropping out to go live life as a rockstar.” 

“Can you tell us about that day? How exactly did it play out?” 

Of all the questions the producer asked throughout the duration of filming the documentary with the Romantics, hearing them recount the day they were discovered was in their top 3. The crew saw how each member brightened, turning back into their 14-year-old self with the excitement painting their face. 

“It was my idea to cover ‘Cry Baby’,” Danny stated. “Y/n and Maya were set on ‘California Dreamin’,’ Evan wanted to fit in, ‘Superstition,’, and Ronnie didn’t give a shit as long as we made the most out of the day. But it was yours truly who pushed for Y/n to cover Janis. You’re welcome.” 

Ronnie would go on to say, “Danny and Evan did what they always did when a pretty girl stopped to listen; fought for her attention. Maya kept telling them to shut up and focus because it was the one day of the week during the school year where we got to go into the city to play. My keyboard had probably another month before I needed to replace it. Transporting it back and forth every week kept scratching it up.”

“I don’t want to say it was superstition,” Evan winked, a nice call back to the song he originally wanted them to cover in their set list, “But when I woke up that morning, I felt something--like it wasn’t going to be a normal set we’d had. There was a shift in the air the moment I put the guitar on and Y/n started belting ‘Fortunate Son.’ Maybe it was just me…I don’t know. But to this day, I believe the stars happened to align at the right moment for us.”

Maya beamed with each word, “Halfway through our set, a butterfly landed on my bass, and it was only ten minutes later that Mr. Mayhew found us. To me it was a sign--and why my bass always has butterflies on it. Afterwards we begged my brother to take us to Burger Chef to celebrate. Which ugh--!” She made a sound of longing, “Doesn’t even exist anymore! God the days where I could get a burger, fries and a shake for less than a dollar.”

“It was like any other weekend,” scratching her jaw, Y/n remembered every detail of the moment she and the band were approached by the music producer. “It was Saturday, middle of May and already scorching hot by mid-afternoon. We were a week away from the last day of junior high. Maya’s older brother would take us to our usual spot on his way to work and pick us up at the end of his shift.” Y/n bit back a smile, thinking about the big juvenile crush she had on him. Probably because he had a car and job, which back then was an attractive thing for any guy. It never went anywhere of course, and the two stayed friends--attending each other's wedding years later. 

“Every week we’d plan a set list of songs, both covers and ones I wrote. If we ran out of songs before Maya’s brother got off, we’d either call one of our parents to pick us up or continue playing whatever song we felt like. I was intimidated, to say the least, when it came time to cover ‘Cry Baby.’ So I mentally went, ‘fuck it, just do it,’ and poured my entire soul into singing. When I finished the adrenaline kept pumping, and I barely registered the suited man walking up with a business card and telling me to, ‘have your parents call this number. You kids have talent that only comes once in a lifetime. I wanna help you share it with the world.’”

For the next hour the producer relayed the questions and Y/n recalled the years between 1979 and 1989. Their first decade as a band was filled with success and hardships. The launch of their debut single and album. Appearing on Johnny Carson and SNL, being the third music video to ever play on MTV and winning their first Grammy. We Are the World with Michael Jackson, collaborating with Duran Duran, Eurythmics, and Diana Ross. The international tours, the rumors of Danny and Y/n’s addiction--which were false, tense moments where someone nearly quit. The lawsuit against a producer who was cheating them out of money.  

It was tough. But they pulled through. 

“1989 was a memorable year,” the producer began, a knowing smile on her lips. “Not only for the band….but for you, Y/n. 1989 was the year you met Pete Mitchell.”

To say the heat in her veins rivaled that of a volcano on the verge of exploding, was an understatement. The confident, playful, rockstar reduced to that of a shy schoolgirl falling in love for the first time. 

“Yessss,” she bit her lip, glancing away from the camera to hide the grin, but it was to no avail. It stayed on as she returned her attention forward, “That’s right.” 

“We’re gonna bring Pete in soon, but like your bandmates we want to have you talk about your relationship before sitting you both down for the next portion of this interview.” 

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well, to begin, can you tell us how you and Pete met? It was after you performed at the Staples Center, correct?”

“Yup. August 15, 1989, at what was once called Club Electric Idol, known today as Melvin’s Planet Enterprise in Los Angeles. We finished our gig at the Staples Center and decided to hit up a club to end the night. Electric Idol was not far from our hotel.” The blue strobe lights flashed in her mind, followed by the image of a young Pete, Ice, and Slider walking up. His hair perfectly styled, bomber jacket and aviators on. Y/n chuckled, “I don’t know how long we’d been there, but next thing I know this guy is tapping my shoulder to ask if he could take a moment of my time. At first I expected another drunken pick-up line, but Pete shocked my core when he and his friends started belting, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,’ in the middle of the bar. Maya looked at him like he had two heads,” the giggles were now loose. Y/n unable to contain them. 

“I think Evan joined in,” a cough escaped, the woman shaking her head, “Pete was unlike any man I’d ever met. And considering I married the guy,” flashing her left hand, the diamond ring sparkled. “It’s safe to say he successfully wooed me with his beautiful rendition.”

The producer laughed with the rest of the crew, “Shall we bring him in then?”

“Ready when you are, baby.” 

Signaling the assistant, the young man raced out before returning a short moment later with Pete in tow. The pilot shyly waved to the guest, but instantly lit up when his eyes landed on Y/n. Nerves disappear with the relaxation of his features.

“Hey, hot shot.” 

“Hey there, songbird.” He took his place beside her on the couch, leaning back when the PA attached the mic to his shirt. “How’s it been going?”

“Perfect,” she replied with a smile, moving closer which then prompted their dog Ice to join them on the couch. Goose changed his napping spot to in front of Pete’s feet. Bella stayed on her bed. “Will Bradley manage the car on his own, or is he taking a break?” 

Pete reached down to give Goose a pat on the head, brushing his hand down his back to get rid of the shedding hair, “He’s heading to go shoot hoops with Jake and Payback. Said he’ll be back for dinner.”

Shuffling through her papers, the producer spoke into her headset before facing the couple. “Okay for this segment we’re gonna ease our way into the topic of relationships and maintaining them in this industry. Say whatever you’re comfortable with--we’ll edit out anything you might want cut in the final production.” 

Pete lifted a thumb, “Cool.” 

“Pete, before you came in Y/n was telling us about the night you met,” Red coating his cheeks in a flash, the pilot making a sound of embarrassment. 

“Oh God.”

Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh stop it, you were the star of the night, Pete Mitchell.”

“Can you explain what prompted you to approach Y/n? You were with your friends, having just attended their show hours prior, on vacation. What outcome were you hoping to come out of it?”

“To be honest with you I wasn’t exactly thinking of the outcome,” Pete, still red as a tomato, stared into the camera with a pleading look as if begging the eventual audience to believe him. “My buddies and I had this thing where when we saw a pretty lady we’d say, ‘She’s lost that lovin’ feeling,’ which was code for, ‘Please help me impress her.’ I’d only done it a few times before Y/n,” Briefly glancing at her, Pete chuckled as he recalled the words he told her, repeating them to the camera, “The first time crashed and burned. The second one got me a date, and the third….third time's a charm.” 

The next few minutes the couple went back in time. Remembering it all like it was yesterday. Afterwards Pete spoke of their first date, how he asked Y/n to be his girlfriend and the reality of going public with their relationship.

“I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with Y/n,” with his hand placed on top of her knee, Pete started to caress the area. The leather of her pants smooth against his thumb. “We had high demand jobs. Sometimes I couldn’t get in touch with her per my missions' orders. Her schedule was constant. But when you love someone, you make the time. You show up when it matters. I made sure to be at every major performance. Called every week--I once drove around Reno for hours trying to find a working payphone so I could wish her luck before she took to the stage. Sent flowers to her dressing room--which in the beginning was damn hard because the security thought I was a crazed fan.” 

Y/n continued, but not before laughing at her husband. “Whenever we were on break from recording or tour, I’d go to whatever base Pete was stationed at. He’d take me to the hangar and show me all there was to Naval aviation. I would say more of what we’d do, but I don’t want him getting in anymore now that he’s retired,” a sly wink was sent to the camera, both adults giggling as Mav brought a finger to his mouth, ‘shhhh.’

“Now, Y/n, during the final show of the band’s reunion tour you revealed that the rumored break up between you two before you got married never happened. How did you manage to keep such a big secret like that all these years?”

“A great publicist, not going out as much when we had time off and learning the art of deception.” Of course that last one was a little lie. In reality, they were lucky it all worked out the way it did. That people, specifically reporters and paparazzi, started to leave Pete alone. Toning down their stalking of the poor guy. Plus the band’s and Y/n’s personal publicist, with the consent of everyone involved, planted seeds of her romantically linking to other high-profile individuals. Like Paul Rudd during his early years of fame, and Ethan Hawk.

“Things at my job were becoming unstable with the amount of attention I got being Y/n’s partner,” Pete explained. “My superiors were concerned with sending me out after an incident where a fan tried following me to the hangar. Now at the time, this was before September 11th, you could drive onto military installations, but there were still certain areas restricted to only personnel. This fan attempted to breach the restricted area, then there were times the paparazzi photographed me in places that were confidential.”

“So we staged a break-up,” Y/n threw her hands up, letting out an irritated sigh. 25 years later and it still bothered her how invasive people could be. Especially with Pete, her man. Compromising his job, and potentially his life.

She’d raise hell. 

Shaking her head, the rockstar went on to say, “It worked, thankfully. Got the paps and weirdos---yes I am the type to call obsessive, stalking fans weirdos,” her eyes were fierce, staring into the soul of the camera. 

Well, the soul of the audience watching.

“There are lines, people. Boundaries. Ones that should be respected. Yes, I’m aware what it means to be a public figure and therefore my life is an open book half the damn time. But seriously, that doesn’t give permission to stalk the lives of my loved ones. Hell!” she slapped a hand on her thigh, “Even when we first started out….we were kids. We should not have had to constantly watch our backs for people who might want to harm us. Or scare us for that matter.” 

They continued discussing the subject for a brief period. Followed by the events leading to their engagement and marriage. The wedding had been the talk of the year when it was announced. Y/n wore custom Chanel, Pete in his Dress Whites. An intimate ceremony with their friends, family, Pete’s superiors, and few members of the music industry Y/n grew close to. Dolly Parton, Diana Ross, Stevie Nicks, Michael Jackson, and fellow Atlanta natives TLC among the guest list. 

“You two have been together 34 years--married for 22. Maya and Evan recently celebrated 37 years as a couple--tying the knot in 1994. Danny and his wife have been married since 2000 and Ronnie recently celebrated 20 years with her wife. Pun intended, but it appears all members of Y/n and The Romantics found the key to life-lasting romance.”

“We did, didn’t we?!” Y/n clapped her hands in glee, lightly bouncing on the couch from the excitement. “I had never thought of that before, oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” Mav laughed with her but then had to calm down Goose who got up from the sudden noise and started barking. Making Ice, who’d been laying on the couch, get off to leave the living room. “I should write a song about that,” the idea came to mind, Y/n straightening up with an expression indicating a light bulb went off. “Oh yeah,” humming, she fell back against the couch with a content exhale, “I know what our next album is going to be. And I promise to put you on the credits,” she ends with a point to the producer, who appreciated the gesture with a grin and thumbs up.

“Looking forward to it.” 

November 10th, 2024 -- The Chinese Theater in Hollywood, Los Angeles, California. 

A block away from their Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Y/n and The Romantics stood in front of the iconic Chinese Theater to the flashing cameras and screams of fans for the premiere of their documentary film, “Rock to Romance: The Story of Five Kids from Atlanta with A Dream of Rock n’ Roll.’ 

Already a success with the critics praising the direction, production, and the intimate, raw interviews of the band members, the documentary was a hit. The Atlanta premiere the week prior reserved for special guests and critics shot Y/n back in time to 1978. They were at Olympic Centennial Park, down the street from the intersection where it all started. Overcome with emotion, the frontwoman had to excuse herself from the red carpet early. Escaping to a bathroom where Ronnie and Maya found her, the trio embraced in a hug with no words needed to understand the message. 

They lived their dreams. They were icons of Rock and Roll.

Now at the Hollywood premiere, Y/n was more relaxed. At ease with the environment. Reporters of major news stations and entertainment media waited patiently for their turn at interviewing the band. Celebrities from every industry one could think of attended. Many of which were fans themselves and had the honor of calling Y/n and The Romantics their friend. Directors Baz Luhrmann and Greta Gerwig--both secretly competing to direct the group's biopic. Georgia natives that couldn’t make the Atlanta premiere: Walton Goggins, Dakota and Elle Fanning and Gladys Knight. Actors including Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Chris Tucker, Meryl Streep, and Michele Yeoh. Professional dancer Derek Hough, who’d been Ronnie’s partner on Dancing With The Stars. Supermodels of the 80s and 90s Cindy Crawford, Tyra Banks, and Iman. Then there were some athletes like Rafael Nadal, Carl Lewis, Michael Jordan, Venus and Serena Williams, and Mary Lou Retton. 

And of course, you can’t forget the rockstars. Members of Duran Duran, Cheap Trick, U2, Guns N’ Roses, Journey, Blondie and Def Leppard. Cyndi Lauper, Janet Jackson, Pat Benatar, Annie Lennox, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, and Pattie LaBelle. 

Fans lined the streets, screaming each time a car rolled up and finally exploded the moment all five members were together. 

Y/n stood in the middle, Maya and Ronnie on either side, Evan next to Maya and Danny beside Ronnie. The ladies appeared as walking Goddesses in custom Dior and the fellas stunning in Louis Vuitton. They posed for the array of paparazzi and fans. Doing their best not to squint as the ongoing flashing lights blinded them. Ronnie cracked jokes; Evan flirted with Maya to get her blushing. Danny, like always, gave his blue steel.

 And Y/n? She was just happy to be there. 

Searching the crowd for her husband and invited guests, the rockstar was relieved when they finished the red carpet portion of the event. Beelining to Maverick, accompanied by the group of dagger ducklings she loved dearly. “I’m so happy you guys made it!!” Embracing each one of them, Y/n moved to Pete’s side once placing a motherly kiss to Rooster’s cheek. 

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Y/n,” Natasha told her, the guys echoing with approval. She was wearing vintage Oscar De La Renta. A gift from Y/n when she made Commander. “This is insane,” she awed, motioning to the scene around them. The carpet was still underway with stars, the countdown to the film minutes away. “And here I thought nothing would compete with the Hall of Fame induction.”

“Speak for yourself, Trace,” Jake, handsome as ever in his Tom Ford suit, spoke from behind. “I for one knew this premiere would have a larger turn out. I mean c’mon, it’s all everyone’s been talking about since March.” Rolling her eyes, Natasha turned back to Y/n, who was biting back a laugh at the two. 

Rooster, out of his typical Hawaiian shirt and instead nicely dressed in a custom Ralph Lauren tuxedo, stepped forward. “I guess I’ll be the first of these clowns to say, congratulations to you and the band, Y/n on this amazing film. It’s been an honor watching it unfold, and we’re excited for what comes next.”

“Aw, Bradley,” she holds back the tears this time to not mess up her makeup, but pulls him into another hug nonetheless. “Thank you. It means so much to us--and I’m so grateful to have you all here. To be part of this journey. Supporting me and Pete, the band and just everything.” 

“No tears,” Reuben, also wearing Ralph Lauren, playfully scolds. “Can't be messing up that pretty face when you have a speech to give in front of a theater full of Hollywood hot shots. Save that for the party.”

“Please,” she scoffs, returning the manner, “I’ll be too drunk to cry. I might be 60, but I can still hold my liquor.”

“Planet Enterprise, right?” A Gucci wearing Javy raises a brow, making finger guns. 

The rockstar winked, “You know it.”

Ten minutes after passing time with small talk, the group were ushered inside where Y/n quickly returned to her bandmates for the speeches and introductions of the doc. Managing to keep it together, Y/n thanked her family, friends, Pete, the crew and production company for dedicating the time and energy to making the documentary, and of course her best friends on stage. 

The four individuals who were the only ones on the planet to relate to everything Y/n experienced in the world of rock n roll. 50+ years of friendship. Seeing each other at their best and worst. Accomplishing milestones together. 

They were more than a band. They were a family.

Finally the lights turned off, the screen went white, and the reel began rolling. Opening with the image of Y/n on her living room couch. The image of a woman, who was once a young girl with dreams of playing her Fender Esquire on the stages of Madison Square Garden and the Staples Center. Possessing the voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar. 

“If you could travel back to 1978 and give your fourteen-year-old self advice for the road ahead, what would you tell her?”

“I’d tell her……don’t lose that dream, little one. You’ve got the journey of a lifetime waiting for you.” 

...............................................

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

[campgender]

the divine hero-husband: on Romance Novel Jesus & submitting to your husband as to the Lord, Pavlov-style

from God’s Daughters: Evangelical Women and the Power of Submission by R. Marie Griffith (1997)

excerpt 1:

Another metaphor Aglow women utilize to describe their relationship with God is that of a divine lover or husband, also an image with a long history in the Christian tradition, which resonates in contemporary descriptions of becoming the “chosen bride” of Jesus. Several Aglow writers have fruitfully utilized a passage from the book of Isaiah: “For your Maker is your husband—the Lord Almighty is his name.”

Jo Anne, a single mother of two, appeals to her readers’ desires for a perfect husband when she writes, “How would you like to be married to a husband who is always faithful, ever concerned for your welfare, who wants only the best for you and who will love you no matter what you do?” Quoting the verse from Isaiah, she responds to her own question: “Surprise! The Bible says we’ve already got exactly that kind of husband. The God of the Universe my Husband! What a mind-blowing idea.” Recounting various stories of learning gratefully to accept this notion and to submit to God as her husband, Jo Anne offers other unmarried women the “opportunity” to “take [God] seriously” and to “receive him as the perfect husband.”

excerpt 2:

Whether his spiritual “wives” are widowed or divorced, married or remarried, God acts as their perfect husband, wisely guiding and protecting them in a perfectly ordered “love relationship.”

Like the more traditional notion of God as Father, the theme of God as perfect husband echoes throughout evangelical literature. In her 1976 book, The Gift of Inner Healing, well-known evangelist Ruth Carter Stapleton urges a young woman whose marriage to Nick has been “miserable” to let Jesus’ affection heal her and her marriage:

“Try to spend a little time each day visualizing Jesus coming in the door from work. Then see yourself walking up to him, embracing him. Say to Jesus, ‘It’s good to have you home, Nick.’ If you do this each day, you will condition yourself to respond to Nick as you would respond to Jesus.”

According to Stapleton’s story, the wisdom of this strategy was confirmed when Nick showed up to thank her about a year later, telling Stapleton that he and his wife have “a whole new relationship.” Imagining Jesus as a husband, and one’s husband as Jesus, has the power to refresh and animate even the most broken marriages.

Characterizations of God as perfect husband closely resemble the heroes of contemporary romance novels analyzed by Janice Radway, a literary scholar who interviewed dozens of women who regularly read this literature. “Strong and masculine” yet “equally capable of unusual tenderness, gentleness, and concern for [the heroine’s] pleasure,” the ideal hero for the romance readers questioned by Radway is one who recognizes “deep feelings” of love for the heroine and who realizes that “he could not live without her.”

Like Radway’s readers, who want their hero to be both protector of the heroine and dependent on her love, Aglow women desire their divine hero-husband both to lead and look after them and to be nurtured by their mutually gratifying relationship. Following God’s commands, doing everything he asks of them and more, flattering him continually by “just telling Him how wonderful He is and how much we love Him,” Aglow women fulfill their visions of perfect love relationships, satisfying needs for affection, protection, and self-esteem through a perceived marital relationship with God.

Whether they experience him as husband or as father, Aglow women view God as the ideal man, one who makes them feel respected and valued as women and who will not abuse or take advantage of them the way earthly men may. The complexities of this ideal of masculinity, and its intended contrast to earthly models, are suggested by the following interpretation of intimacy with God, from a book published by Aglow […]

excerpt 3:

The stories of Mary and Donna, like that of Dorothy, assure their readers that good results will follow a wife’s willing acquiescence: once women’s attitudes are transformed and they accept their submissive role, their husbands also become happier and more benevolent, reflecting the benevolence of God. Such stories show how personal power may be encoded in the doctrine of submission, as the women center their narratives on their own capacity to initiate personal healing and cultivate domestic harmony.

While not viewed as essential to the woman’s healing, changes in a husband’s behavior furnish added confirmation that such healing has taken place. For instance, the fact that Dorothy’s husband actually wept when she told him of her illness is highly significant to her story. Rather than slapping her in the face, as she says he had “every right” to do, Elmer embraced her lovingly and expressed his concern that she be healed. Likewise, Mary’s husband, Cal, responded to her newfound submission with love and appreciation, and Donna’s husband, Doug, was transformed even as she was. Such changes, these writers assert, occurred in large part as the result of the decisive actions of the wives.

These narratives are meant to convince Aglow readers of the sincerity of the husbands’ love for their wives and the assurance of their manly protection; as Dorothy writes of Elmer, he “showed me his real strength the night he forgave me.” Such husbands represent the ideal Christian man, upholding the image of a loving Father God: strong yet gentle, a dynamic leader who is unafraid to express tender feeling, stern and rugged in his righteousness yet willing to forgive and to respond in benevolence.

Dorothy, Mary, and Donna submit to their husbands’ authority, which, like that ofJesus, is depicted as compassionate and wise, never dominating or cruelly oppressive. Submit to your husband, the authors instruct their readers, and you too will discover the man you’ve always longed for, his seeming harshness softened by your willing obedience to his demands.

[liber---monstrorum]

A Review of Briardark by S.A. Harian.

SUMMARY

For Dr. Siena Dupont and her ambitious team, the Alpenglow glacier expedition is a career-defining opportunity. But thirty miles into the desolate Deadswitch Wilderness, they discover a missing hiker dangling from a tree, and their satellite phone fails to call out. Then the body vanishes without a trace. The disappearance isn’t the only chilling anomaly. Siena’s map no longer aligns with the trail. The glacier they were supposed to study has inexplicably melted. Strange foliage overruns the mountainside, and a tunnel within a tree hollow lures Siena to a hidden cabin, and a stranger with a sinister message… Holden Sharpe’s IT job offers little distraction from his wasted potential until he stumbles upon a decommissioned hard drive and an old audio file. Trapped on a mountain, Dr. Siena Dupont recounts an expedition in chaos and the bloody death of a colleague. Entranced by the mystery, Holden searches for answers to Siena’s fate. But he is unprepared for the truth that will draw him to the outskirts of Deadswitch Wilderness—a place teeming with unfathomable nightmares and impossibilities. (source)

Official content warnings: Gore, character death, terror, language, existential dread, mental illness, emotional abuse; more content warnings listed on Storygraph

REVIEW (disclaimer: I recieved a digital review copy of Briardark through Netgalley in exchange for a review.) Whatever I expected from Briardark, it wasn't this.

To tell the truth, I went in not knowing what to expect; the publishers introduce it as "perfect for fans of LOST and House of Leaves," two properties which I haven't yet touched (I know, I know, HoL is on my TBR this year). Based on my scant knowledge of these properties I assumed that meant people would be lost in a weird place.

In Briardark, people sure are lost in a weird place, but it gets so much wilder and bizarre than I could have ever dreamed of. Typically when a book is shilled as a horror thriller, it's just a horror book with a bit of thriller or a thriller book lumped into the horror category because it's a thriller. This, however, is a true horror thriller; the twists in this book are insane, and this is from someone who usually sees "twists" coming from a million miles away. Every single one not only ramps up the tension but also does something clever to tweak an aspect of reality we thought we could trust. Harian is also very patient when it comes to the reveal. Nothing's ever rushed, and the payoff for elements introduced or revealed can take chapters, if not hundreds of pages.

It's a quick read, too, despite its length (350+ pages, 10+ hour audiobook!). The pacing is excellent, knowing when to slow and take in the view and when to hurtle forward over the edge. Several times while reading, I would go to update my reading progress and realize that I'd only read five pages, but with all that had happened I'd expected 20+. In Briardark, stuff just keeps happening and doesn't stop.

THE PEOPLE While the blurb implies that there will only be two POVs, Briardark actually gives every character in Seina's team a POV. Siena and Holden are the main characters, yes, and most of the narrative is told from their perspective, but the narrative also isn't afraid to shift over to another character when necessary--usually when folks split up (or get split up). The reader isn't being shuffled around character's heads willy-nilly.

Normally I'm not a fan of multiple POVs; for me, more than two POV characters is pushing it. Briardark, however, does a really excellent job of handling multiple POVs. It establishes the characters firmly from Siena's POV first, allowing readers to become familiar with who they are before swapping. Also (and this important), every character is both unique and enjoyable.

Out of all the cast, Cam is my favorite. She's a well written lesbian character, something I always appreciate and rarely see. She's allowed to have a close, meaningful relationship with Siena, a straight woman, without ever being attracted to her. Siena never even considers the possibility. Cam's capable, respected in her field and her colleagues, and the trauma she has from her involvement with Briardark in the past is handled really well. I know these things can seem low bar to hurdle, but I'm starved for good lesbian rep, especially in horror/thriller books. I really hope to see more from her in the second book--her plotline was, to me, one of the ones I'm most invested in.

THE PLACE The establishment of place is beautifully done. The book is set in an absolutely awe-inspiring wilderness. Despite the fact I would definitely die immediately (and not even due to anything eldritch, just from the hiking), I'd love to visit.

One of the best pieces of advice I got from my writing classes was to treat place as another character. It's just as important as the human characters in a story, if not more so; the Deadswitch Wild, Briardark, even individual rooms all have their own character. This, of course, goes double for when the wild starts to get weird and eldritch (in more ways than one).

Honestly, I'm usually not one to be pro-map in books. I think they're fine, but I usually don't use them. I think that Briardark would benefit greatly from having a map included; maybe not necessarily in the beginning, but several maps are mentioned over the course of the book, and I was just dying for them to be included as an illustration or in the back. I read an advanced digital reader's copy through Netgalley, so they may be included in the final product. If not, I really hope the second book comes with a map or gets map illustrations. The textual description of them was well-done, of course, making them not strictly necessary, but they'd be cool.

That said, a lot of what is set up in this first book lore-wise recieves no payoff. It's the first book in a series (thank God), so having to wait for reveals is to be expected, but it's going to be hard to wait. Luckily, the second book, Waywarden, comes out in 2024. I can't wait to return to the Briardark in a year.

FINAL THOUGHTS I can't say if the comparison to LOST or House of Leaves is accurate. What I can say is that if you enjoyed titles like The Dark Between the Trees or short stories like "A Tale of the Ragged Mountains" and "A Psychological Shipwreck" you'll love Briardark even more. It's weird, tense, and has some fantastic characters I can't wait to read more about.

Briardark released 16 January 2023. If you're interested in the book, check out the official website (https://briardark.com/), request the book from your local library, or buy yourself a copy!

[dorireads]

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong || Book Review

Star Rating: 5/5⭐

Genre: Fiction, but it takes a lot of influence from the author's real life

If you look on my page, specifically at the books i've reviewed, you can see that getting a 5 star rating from me is very rare. Especially since this book branches out from my normal genres.

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is a beautiful and heartbreaking novel centered around the protagonist Little Dog, a Vietnamese-American boy whose mother and grandmother immigrated to the US during the time of the Vietnam war. It's formatted as Little Dog writing a letter to his mom, who cannot read or speak much English.

This book travels through time, recounting stories from his grandmother's life all the way to the time that Little Dog graduates college. He goes through his childhood, racism, internalized homophobia, sexuality, domestic abuse, masculinity, death, addiction and so much more.

The way that this book is written is poetic, powerful, and manages to tell an amazing and reflective story. I 100% recommend that you read this.

spoilers under the cut!

I don't think there was a part of this book that I disliked at all. The formatting can be a bit weird at times, but for being written by a poet it's honestly an amazing book that raised my expectations a lot.

I genuinely loved the storyline with Trevor and Little Dog. As a queer person, it's beautiful to see young LGBTQ love stories, and this one was so real. Obviously Trevor wasn't a real person, but the author did comment once that he was based on several people he grew up with. Seeing Trevor struggle with addiction, a tense home environment, and internalized homophobia made me love this character a lot. When I talk about indirect characterization, this is a prime and perfect example.

I loved hearing Little Dog talk about the times that they were alone together doing random things and dancing around in dresses for fun. Seeing these characters express and explore themselves throughout the book resonated with me a lot and genuinely brought me to the point of tears. It's not a perfect love story, but it wasn't meant to be, and there's so much that we can learn and relate to from the relationship between these two alone.

I also adored the way that the mother and grandmother were written. They were never put into a box or stereotyped and you're shown their faults and bad moments while also being shown the moments when they stepped up and took care of each other. Nothing hits as hard as a well-written mother figure who isn't made out to be perfect.

The only genuinely disturbing part of this book was when it was talking about people eating monkey's brains while they were alive. I don't remember or understand why this was put in, but it wraps up the ending as well. If you're not a fan of reading descriptions of violence against animals, maybe skip that part, because it was a bit shocking to read.

All in all, an amazing book that I hope to annotate eventually.

[90363462]

The Bloody True Crime, and Shocking Acquittal, Behind Hulu’s Candy

Steven JohnSeptember 22, 2022

In summer 1980, a killing rocked Wylie, Texas, at the time little more than a sleepy town northeast of Dallas. It was shocking not simply because of the community’s size, but because of the sheer brutality, and the identity of the victim. Betty Gore was a wife, mother, grade-school teacher, and a devoted church member. Her accused killer, homemaker Candy Montgomery, struck Betty 41 times with an ax. What’s more, Candy ultimately walked out of the courthouse a free woman. If it sounds too wild to be true, you need only watch Hulu’s Candy.

RELATED: Netflix’s Devil in Ohio Is Inspired by a True Crime – But Which One?

The five-episode miniseries is based on actual events. Here’s what led to that fateful morning, on June 13, 1980, and what happened afterward — as unbelievable as it may seem.

Candy Montgomery and Betty Gore: Friendship and Betrayal

The real Candy Montgomery, left, and Jessica Biel in Hulu’s Candy

Born on Nov. 15, 1949, Candy Montgomery moved to Wylie, Texas, in 1977 with her husband, Pat, and their two children. She soon befriended Betty Gore and her husband, Allan, at the Methodist Church of Lucas. Their daughters likewise became fast friends.

RELATED: Committing the Perfect Crime in Yellowstone’s Zone of Death

However, trouble began in October 1978, when Candy propositioned Allan at a church event. She was bored with her life, and in search of “fireworks.” Allan was apparently in a similar mindset. Their affair began in December 1978, and lasted the better part of a year, until the relationship was ended by Allan. He felt guilty for cheating on Betty.

Candy purportedly didn’t mind the end of the affair, because the “fireworks”-level sexshe craved never materialized. Their illicit relationship could have faded into memory, with little damage done to either marriage … had Betty not learned about the tryst.

The Brutal Killing of Betty Gore

Betty Gore, left, and Melanie Lynskey in Hulu’s Candy

We’ll never know exactly what happened in the Gore home that Friday the 13th in June 1980, or why. In Candy Montgomery’s account, she stopped by Betty Gore’s house to borrow a bathing suit for her daughter. That’s when Betty confronted her about the affair with Allan (he was out of town on business).

RELATED: The Wife Swap Murders: The Tragedy at Stockdale Farm, Explained

Candy didn’t deny the affair, but confirmed it had ended months earlier. She claimed Betty then flew into a rage and attacked her with an ax. Indeed, Candy had a single cut on her toe that was consistent with an injury from a wood-splitting ax. In addition, she sustained several bruises and scrapes consistent with a struggle.

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It was the damage to Betty’s body that was so shocking — horrifying, even. She was struck 41 times by an ax.

That means Candy had to disarm Betty, and then, rather than flee the house, she swung the ax at least 41 times. She continued to strike even after the fatal blow. To add to the horror, Candy then left the house — in which Betty’s infant daughter lay in a crib — and went home. She bathed, changed clothes, then attended a church event, as if nothing had happened.

Candy Montgomery’s Trial – and Its Shocking Outcome

Jessica Biel as Candy Montgomery in Hulu’s Candy

Betty’s body was found later that day by neighbors who were asked by Allan to check in after he couldn’t reach his wife by phone. Authorities summoned to the Gore house encountered what they later described as a scene from a horror movie. Blood was spattered everywhere, and the corpse was so mutilated that is was difficult to tell what had happened to Betty Gore.

RELATED: A Mother and 8-Year-Old Daughter Were Kidnapped for 7 Weeks – Their Escape Was Unbelievable, But Only the Beginning

Candy was charged with murder, but insisted she had acted in self-defense. To explain the level of violence, her attorneys argued a repressed childhood memory of her mother shushing exploded into Candy’s mind when Betty said “Shhh!” during confrontation. That, they said, caused Candy to effectively go temporarily insane as she fought back. That is, of course, plausible, as the human mind is a frail and malleable thing. However, it hardly explains Candy’s lack of remorse, or the calm she displayed after the killing.

Nevertheless, the jury deliberated for fewer than five hours before returning a verdict of not guilty. Candy left the courthouse a free woman. In the eyes of many, however, she was a ruthless murderer. Divorced, and now in her early 70s, Candy goes by her maiden name, Wheeler.

Candy’s story was first dramatized in a 1990 made-for-TV movie called Killing in a Small Town. However, Hulu’s 2022 miniseries Candy is viewed by many critics as imperfect, but nevertheless true to actual events. And if you’re searching for another version, you can wait for HBO Max’s Love and Death, expected to premiere in 2023.

KEEP READING: 

How a Podcast Exposed a New Break in the Unsolved Delphi Murders Case

Steven John

Steven John is a writer based near New York City (after 12 years in LA, four in Boston, and the first 18 just outside DC). When not writing or spending time with his wife, son, and daughter, he frequently jogs and bikes, sometimes gets in a kayak, and occasionally climbs mountains. He writes for several major outlets, and his novels can be found on his website stevenjohnbooks.com

[seijorhi]

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him. 

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side. 

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case. 

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything. 

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to. 

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that? 

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him. 

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face. 

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you. 

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you. 

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity. 

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you. 

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned. 

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place. 

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you. 

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye- 

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter. 

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace. 

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his. 

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up. 

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!” 

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms. 

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame. 

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him. 

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds. 

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him. 

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable. 

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace. 

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers. 

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust. 

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating. 

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him. 

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Helping Billy and Stu on their murder spree would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(This might not be exactly what you were expecting but I hope you enjoy it anyways! Sorry it took me longer than expected!)

- Wrong. That was the best way to describe your relationship with Billy and Stu: wrong, fucked up, and dangerous …but you couldn’t deny the fact that it was exciting. 

- You were no saint. That was a fact you’d come to terms with a while ago. You were no saint but you certainly weren’t a killer; at least not when all of this started. No, back then, you were just a really, really bad girlfriend.

- Truth be told: you weren’t single when you’d gotten involved with the boys, though, to be fair, neither were they; not that that made things any better.

- You’d had a boyfriend, a boyfriend you’d once really cared about, but somewhere along the line, you’d begun to have problems and instead of resolving them, you’d both chosen to ignore them and resent each other instead. Which is probably why it was so easy for you to fall into another boys arms; especially when they were as charming as Billy was or as sweet as Stu was.

- You’d always had a bit of a crush on Billy. The two of you’d been acquaintances ever since freshman year and for a while you sort of thought that you and him might get together. But then he started dating Sidney and you got asked out by your boyfriend and you just sort of tried to put the idea out of your head.

- Unbeknownst to you, the idea never left Billy’s head and he found himself plotting all the ways that he could make you his; all while finding out that his partner in crime was seemingly just as interested in you as he was.

- Stu ended up playing a crucial role in your “arrangement”. The two of you found yourselves made into lab partners and thusly, you were invited over to his place after school and later given the perfect excuse to spend time with him; and/or Billy, without causing suspicion.

- The first few times you go over to the Macher place, nothing of value happens. You do exactly what you’re supposed to: work, study, joke around a little and get a bit more comfortable being in each other’s presences. It’s a few study sessions in that you get a curveball thrown at you.

- It’s late one evening, Stu’s parents are out and you’re both studying on his living room floor when all of a sudden the doorbell rings. Stu gets up to answer it and who else would it be but Billy.

- Stu pretends to act surprised and tells the boy that he forgot they were going to hang out and that he’s studying with you. Billy assures him that it’s alright before Stu tells him to wait a second and reappears in the room, saying that he thinks the two of you have studied enough and that Billy’s got some horror movies that the three of you can watch if you’d like to stay and chill. How could you possibly refuse?

- And so, your makeshift friendship with the boys begin; a friendship which very quickly leads into something more once Billy decides the time is right to make a move.

- You obviously don’t expect it the first time it happens but you find yourself wanting more the minute it’s over.

- Sure, sometimes the guilt will kick in when you see Tatum and Sidney or when your boyfriend is being particularly sweet, but it never seems to be enough to stop you from coming over whenever they ask or letting them in whenever they knock on your door.

- But the longer the three of you keep up your affair, the more things you start to notice.

- Billy isn’t stupid. Regardless of how he feels about you, he isn’t going to jeopardize his whole plan by making one wrong move and trusting someone he shouldn’t have. He’ll take his time analyzing you, picking apart your every move and reaction until he’s sure that you’re the one.

- You’ll start to pick up on little things about your boys that some might consider weird: all the horror movies and Billy’s knowledge in them, strange questions, indecipherable looks, things like that.

- As Billy comes closer to making up his mind, more of the mask will slip; though not enough to scare you off or make you think that anything’s really wrong. More odd inquiries, questionable sexual activities, and Billy testing your loyalty; oftentimes by asking you to cover for him or Stu to see how far you’ll go for them.

- You might be asking what I mean by “questionable sexual activities”, well, Billy has, on more than one occasion, demanded that you only watch whatever gory film he’s put on instead of looking at him as he pleasures you. He watches you closely, muttering lowly in your ear about the movie and talking dirty as you lock your eyes on the screen.

- When the boys first confess to you about the murders, you don’t believe them. You think it’s a bad joke but once you see just how serious they are, your smile drops and you say “you’re serious aren’t you?”.

- It definitely takes you a while to get used to the fact, but you find yourself opening up to the idea more and more as Billy explains their motive and butters you up with his charming words.

- Your involvement starts with little things: patching them up when they’re hurt, analyzing horror movies, giving them ideas or intel and telling them what won’t work.

- Stu likes to bump your shoulder or ruffle your hair and call you smart whenever you offer up good advice. Billy is much more subtle in his praise but his reactions are usually the ones that make you want to help them more and more.

- The blonde enthusiastically recounts stories of their slayings to you, jumping around the room and making a bunch of noises and hand movements while he does so.

- The first time you mention that you’d like to help them “...more”, both their faces break out into shit eating grins. They don’t immediately hand you a mask, knife, and mission but they do start to ask more of you.

- Helping them hide evidence, giving them alibis, waiting outside of their crime scenes for them and helping them lure people right into their traps all becomes second nature to you.

- Then comes your initiation. 

- There’d always been some jealousy involved in your relationship; mainly on their parts. You had a boyfriend and they had girlfriends which meant all three of you had to; at some point, act all lovey dovey with your partners in front of the others, if only to keep up a façade. 

- But, as obvious as it was that none of you particularly cared for your significant others, that didn’t stop Billy or Stu from absolutely hating your boyfriends guts. This hatred would eventually play a key role in solidifying your role in their lives.

- Your parents aren’t home and you’re in your bedroom with the boys, doing exactly what one would assume you’d be doing, except, unlike all the other times you’d done “this”, your bedroom door swung open and revealed a very unexpected visitor: your boyfriend. 

- Maybe it was the pent up jealousy or the fear of his plan potentially being ruined or maybe it was a little bit of both but when the boy immediately began to just book it towards your front door, Billy followed after him. 

- By the time you make it out into the hall, Stu has him held in place and Billy is turning to look at you, telling you to “come on” as they walk the boy into your kitchen. 

- Once you get there, Billy pulls a knife from the block and walks up to you, telling you that you said you wanted to be a part of things and that now's your chance.

“Go on.” He says, nodding his head back towards the boy who Stu’s restraining and watching you closely as you slowly take the knife from his hands. Stu’s grinning excitedly as you approach him, cheering you on while Billy remains silent behind you. 

- The blonde whoops and hollers as you cut into the boy, audibly expressing his pride in you, and when you turn to look back at Billy, he’s got a tiny little smile pulling at his lips, showing that you’ve just proven yourself and done exactly what he wanted. 

- The brunette locks eyes with you before he walks up and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest and tilting your head down to look at the boy who’s currently bleeding out on your kitchen floor. “Would you look at that.” He says and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says it, his hand trailing up to grope at your chest as he stares down at the gory sight before you.

- There’s no going back after that. You’re now officially one of them and get your very own father death costume. 

- It’s perfect really. More hands, more confusion for the police, more bloody sex.  

- Billy gets turned on by the sight of blood and the adrenaline that he feels after a kill; and Stu has never been one to turn down sex, so don’t be surprised if you end up pressed against the floorboards of a victims house or thrown on one of their beds the minute the three of you get back to their house. 

- You and Billy tend to make the plans while Stu just goes along with whatever you say. 

- Helping them get Neil Prescott.

- Going along with Stu while Billy talks on the phone. 

- The two of them both baby and yell at you. They tend to do most of the dirty work because they think you can’t handle it but at the same time they; namely Billy, will get angry if you mess anything up in the slightest. The brunette will yell or insult you because he’s a control freak and wants everything to go exactly as he planned. 

- On the drive/walk home, you’ll stay quiet, wondering if maybe you’ve made a very severe mistake when deciding to be with the boys. But then Billy will grab your arm and pull you into a kiss, asking if you’re alright and apologizing so sweetly and for better or for worse, you’ll fall right back in again. 

[marvellovegalore]

Loving You

Chris Evans

Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.

Warning: explicit language, sexual content

No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.

You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.

To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.

So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.

He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.

Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.

You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.

His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.

Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.

Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.

“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”

You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.

He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.

You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.

You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.

Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.

The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.

Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.

He doesn’t see you for a year.

You truly are elusive - to the media and him.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.

You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.

--

Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.

You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.

He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.

You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.

You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.

“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.

You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.

You kiss him, silencing his calming words.

His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.

You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.

The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.

You orgasm. Slowly.

And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.

You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.

You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.

Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.

A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.

You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.

He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.

Hurt people, hurt people.

You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”

His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.

“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. I feel I’m just too good for you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.

“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.

“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “Also, you’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”

“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.

You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.

“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.

“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.

Taking his heart and soul with you.

He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.

He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.

He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.

He feels his heart break.

He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.

He wants death. Slow and steady death.

——

Part Deux -

[space-helen]

Back to Vegas - Chapter 7

Words: 1907

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: There’s one more part after this! Thank you for all of the support to far it means a lot

CH1   CH2   CH3   CH4    CH5   CH6  CH7  CH8

_______________________________

Nick rested his forehead on your bed as he clutched your hand within his two as he listened to the beeping of the machinery around you. He’d been waiting around the hospital for three hours before he was allowed to come and sit with you.

It’d been nine hours since that point. Nine long hours of him sitting by your side as you slept and he talked to you. The Doctors said you’d pull through and would wake up in your own time but there was no telling how long that’d take and only you could decide that for yourself.

They’d told Nick in detail exactly what Hannah had put into your body but the only thing he took away was “You were extremely lucky to get Y/N here on time. Any later and the result wouldn’t be the same.”

The opening of the door had Nick sitting upright, he moved one hand but kept the other intertwined with yours. Greg, Sara, Catherine and Grissom all filled into the room taking various positions around your bed.

Catherine sat opposite Nick while Sara sat at the end of the bed with Grissom at her side and Greg took a seat not far from Nick. Nick angled his body slightly so he could see all of them. They instantly noticed his disheveled complexion and very red eyes from crying.

“We heard she’s going to make it.” Catherine was the first to break the silence

“Yeah.” Nick nodded to himself and looked at you before looking back at Catherine. 

“She’s strong Nick. She’s out of the woods.” Sara added as she looked over you. She could see the bruises littered on your exposed skin from the struggle and from the force at which Hannah had injected you, your hand that Nick wasn’t holding was also bandaged up.

“She still needs to wake up though.” his words were barely audible and his eyes began to tear up.

“Nick I know you want to stay by her side but you haven’t eaten in hours. Let one of us sit here while you get a bite to eat” Catherine tried to persuade the man.

“I have to stay with her. She stayed by me.”

“We really don’t mind.” Sara added.

“You don’t understand.” he looked around the room “She didn’t leave my side so I won’t leave hers. I know it’s not as severe but I just can’t. What if I leave and-” he stopped to try and compose himself by taking in a deep breath and letting it out.

“The case?” Grissom broke his silence.

Nick looked at the man with shiny eyes and nodded “Word has probably got around to you guys about a case Y/N and I worked that really brought us together. I think only Greg knows the extent of the case really and even I spared him some details.” He looked at you and started to rub a pattern on your hand with his thumb and he teared up a little but was able to keep his emotions in check. 

“To cut to the chase we ended up in a shootout. We were hiding together and trying to keep calm. Some punk found us and shot me twice, once in the leg and the other in the shoulder. Luckily the guy was shot down before Y/N was shot otherwise we wouldn’t be here now, either of us. She tried to stop the bleeding the best she could and just stayed with me and re-assured me I’d be ok while we waited for the EMT’s.”

Nick’s voice was starting to get wobbly and show emotion, Greg moved to sit on the edge of his seat and put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly.

“She didn’t leave my side the entire time. She got her injuries checked out and that was about it. I nearly bled out, hell I was even dead for a short time in surgery. Y/N sat by my bedside for God knows how long until I woke up. After that she still barely left my side until I ordered her back to work. I didn’t want to tell any of you guys because I didn’t want to worry you.”

Greg moved his hand from Nick’s shoulder “We understand but you should have told us.”

“I know I know.” Nick took in another breath “She stayed with me through recovery and rehabilitation, I had to basically re-learn how to walk for a little bit because the bullet had torn through my leg badly. It’s all fine now. It really took me no time to build back the strength. There were a couple other incidents after that and then we were going on our first date.”

He sucked in a breath “I really don’t know what I’d do without her.”

The room stayed silent for a moment while Nick just looked at you, eventually he let go of your hand and he twisted for his coat which was laid over the back of his chair and rummaged through his pockets “I guess it’s just my luck.” 

He pulled out what he was looking for and clutched it in his hand “I was just about to ask her to marry me and everything. I nearly did last night but… I changed my mind because I wanted to tell you guys first. I’ve had this ring since way before we even came to Vegas.” a tear rolled down his cheek and his throat was sore with emotion “In hindsight I really should have just done it. Last night was perfect.”

Catherine was soon standing up and moving around the bed and opening her arms to give Nick a tight embrace “It’s ok Nicky. She’ll wake up soon.” the woman could feel her own tears threatening.

Sara approached the pair in the embrace and joined in with Greg soon following and Grissom approaching the huddle and putting his hand on Nick’s shoulder. Grissom looked down at you before looking back at Nick.

“I really think she’s going to make it Nick. I know my words mean nothing but she’ll wake up, even the Doctors said that.” he tried to reassure.

The huddle was soon breaking up as Nick completely composed himself and flopped back in the chair by your bedside. Grissom and Sara had offered to feed Sam and go back to the lab to continue working the case and Greg offered to bring him some food before going back to the lab.

Catherine was the last to leave a short while after the others.

“I should head to the lab but I want you to know something.” She moved to the edge of her seat and grabbed Nick's hand from across the bed. “I could just see how well you were made for each other as soon as you walked in through the door. You know I’ve had my fair share of love stories and after a while you just know when someone’s relationship is heading for trouble or destined to be happy. You guys are made for each other.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a smile.

“Thanks Cath.” he mustered a sad smile of his own “That really means a lot.”

She stood up and grabbed her belongings “I mean it Nick. I thought she was pretty good when I met her but I think she’s an amazing woman now. I’ll catch you after my shift. Please message me if anything happens.”

The man nodded and made his promise to Catherine to message her if anything changed.

The room was not silent but after Catherine left it felt as if it was. He sadly smiled at you and leaned forward to give you a quick kiss to the cheek before leaning back in his chair.

It’d been long enough for Greg to stop by with food and Nick to eat and clean up before you woke up. Nick was getting comfy in his seat after using the bathroom when you began to stir.

“Y/N” his voice was full of enthusiasm and excitement. “You’re at the hospital.” he tried to comfort you knowing how weird it could be to wake up and not know where you are.

“Nick?” your eyes were fluttering open and trying to focus on the man “I feel dizzy. Where am I?” your words slurred.

“The hospital Darlin’. Let me go grab a Doctor.” he stood in a scramble and soon was returning with a Doctor who made him wait outside the room.

Ten minutes later he was back at your side. “Hey.” you weakly spoke

“Hey.” he lowered himself into the chair next to you and smiled. “How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” you admitted, there was a dull ache in your head and your body hurt all over. 

The man nodded in response and let a silence hang for a moment. “I was so worried.”

“I know.” you reached for his hand and curled your fingers between his. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry for bringing you to Vegas in the first place.”

“Never apologise for that. It isn’t your fault. We did the right thing coming back and I don’t regret it. I should have just been more careful at the scene.” 

“You remember what happened?” he asked curiously, secretly hoping that you did so he didn’t have to recount the moments.

“Yeah. It gets hazy after she got me the second time and I have patches of memory of a car journey.”

He nodded sadly “Yeah. I rushed you here. I really thought I’d lost you. I don’t know what I would have done if I-”

“I’m here now. I’m ok.” you reassured the man “The Doctor said I needed to stay in for another couple of days to monitor me because they really don’t know what other effects the combination of drugs she gave me will have.”  He looked you in the eyes, relief and emotion present in his. “I love you Nick.”

“I love you more.” he said leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead “promise me you won’t go alone to a scene again.”

“I promise.” you yawned and felt yourself getting tired.

“Am I really that boring?” the man teased

“Of course not.” you gave him a weak laugh “You look pretty tired and I could really do with a cuddle.” you admitted’

“Y/N I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why not?” you pouted slightly “Look here.” you started to try and shift over in the bed.

“Hey, slow down. It’s alright I’m comfy here.”

“You might be but that doesn’t stop me from wanting a cuddle.” you adjusted yourself over in the bed so he had some room “Get up here why don’t you.” you said tapping the bed.

“If we get caught-”

“I’ll take the blame.” the man lay down next to you and you cuddled up to his chest and let your eyes fall closed.

The man felt himself get slightly emotional when he wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and rested his head down on the pillow. He couldn’t even begin to express the way he was feeling right now. A tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

Nick Stokes: @wanniiieeee  @pumpkinfriend

CSI:

[mrs-bartowski]

My dudes. My guys. My pals.

I’m about 10 seconds away from going feral.

So, I’m the kind of unfortunate chump whose brain requires continuity. Meaning, when I started thirst watching Supergirl during its mid-season-2 hiatus and came across the realization that it had crossovers with all the other arrowverse shows, my brain tasked me with watching them all. I won’t put you through a recount of this arduous feat, but it does leave me with the certain advantage of having immediate and full-contextual access to any parallels between supercorp and canon CW DCEU couples.

Normally, this is a good thing, because it’s just another crumb to obsess over. But I just finished watching Legends 6x02 and...I. AM. FUMING.

I literally don’t even know where to start, but know that if you’ve made it this far you’re in for a long ride because my entire being is in Scream mode right now and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop typing until it passes.

OKAY. So.

Meet Sara Lance (lol jk y’all thirsty gays know who she is I mean look at this flawless human)

Next, meet her ******* Ava Sharpe (who is literally the definition of white European beauty standards-based perfection because she’s a clone from the future)

And finally, meet Gary Green. He’s...well, he’s Gary.

Sara started out on Arrow and is now the captain of the Legends. Ava was the director of the Time Bureau and Gary was an agent, and now they are also members of the Legends. Sara has been there (and been the show’s effective lead) since season 1. Ava and Gary both came in at the beginning of season 3. 

Gary is (as pictured) an absolute fool, but he is also kind of regarded as the one the Legends Must Protecc. The whole team is considered a family, and, while they are not necessarily labeled as best friends, Gary has been Ava’s longest and most loyal companion, and Sara has a way of adopting him because she’s the best equipped to keep him out of trouble.

So, why is all of this relevant to why I want to go feral? Because it sounds a bit familiar, yes? Member of the team that is somewhat a black sheep, doesn’t get included fully or all the time but often comes in with save-the day type shit (even though with Gary it’s more of a distraction than a save because he’s a mess of a man). Close friend to one of our two main heroes and, subsequently, that hero’s closest companion puts them at the top of their Protecc list. Has little faith in his relationships with the team so he is constantly going out of his way to help in whatever way he can to prove his usefulness. And so on and so forth.

Well, 6x01 marks exactly 3 years since Gary’s first appearance, and what did we find out in that episode? That Gary is an alien. And not just any alien - an alien who was sent (by the woman he was traded to) to get close to Sara because she has been labeled as one of the world’s most dangerous creatures. Not to mention, his species of alien feeds on humans (not him of course, he’s reformed, but nonetheless not a friendly species). And we find out all of this because he and his master abduct her.

Sara finds out in person while Ava and the rest of the Legends solve the mystery on their own. Now, I’ve drawn a lot of comparisons between Lena and Gary to make a point about the time frame and nature of their relationships, but let’s take a look at Sara, shall we? For starters, she’s been “dead” either literally or supposedly about...what, 15 times now? If you think that’s an exaggeration, here’s the link to her fan wiki which says she’s been presumed dead 10 times and actually dead 5. The sg writers tried to sell season 5 as “the fight for Lena’s soul” but Sara LITERALLY LOST HER SOUL when she got resurrected in the Lazarus pit. 90% of Sara’s character development has been based on her certainty that she is too close to death and evil and destruction (getting possessed by a demon, perhaps, had something to do with this?). She was an actual literal assassin and she has left civilization out of anger and pain to go back to that life once before.

She has always believed that she is too dangerous to have real love or relationships or friends. And now she has found and built and led this family through time and space and she’s done so with this goofball by her side that is endearingly attached to the love of her life. So, how does she react when she finds out Gary is an alien? Well, clearly, she goes down a dark path, right? She cries and screams and talks about betrayal because she’s had such a hard time with feeling like she only ever puts the people she loves in danger and now here she is finding out there’s been a human-eating alien in her family for three years that was tasked with observing her and keeping her in check because she is exactly that dangerous?

Yeah...try again. This is how Sara reacts:

And then there's another scene that apparently no one even bothered to put on YouTube where you can see the pain in Sara's eyes when she asks him “why me?” You can see how hurt she is that after 3 years she’s just finding out that their friendships is based on lies and that she has trouble keeping her faith in it. But in both of these instances where are the “crocodile tears?” Where are the fearful, shaky confessions from Gary about his fear of losing the only people who have ever really loved or cared about him and desperate justifications about how he just wanted to protect them and keep them in the dark so his master didn’t come after them? Where is the outrage from Sara about how everything Gary has reassured her about over the past three years when she was scared to let the damaged-soul assassin inside of her out was a lie and he doesn’t get to tell her who or what she is again? Where is the determination from Ava to make Gary pay for not only lying for three years but for ABDUCTING THE LOVE OF HER LIFE TO HAND OVER TO A FLESH-EATING ALIEN??????

Nowhere. Those things...they’re nowhere. There’s anger. There’s pain. There’s doubt and heartbreak and fury. There’s betrayal and helplessness and desperation. But there is no scene with Sara standing on a balcony and Gary looking up at her longingly because he wants to talk to her about the secret and he knows it will change everything between them. There is no scene with Sara and Ava lamenting over what this means for Gary and the team and the world because he’s no longer the person they knew. There are no romantically-scored scenes of them looking teary-eyed at the pictures they took together or reassurances that the others’ intentions are good and trustworthy now that the truth is out in the open. There is nothing to imply that the last several years of friendship are now entirely suspect (damaged, frayed, clouded, maybe, but definitely not voided) because Gary kept this secret to protect them. And Gary isn’t made to feel obscenely guilty or shameful because his intentions were good and he only did what he felt he had to. But most of all, the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to end.

And I’m not talking about we’re now scared Gary will take his master’s side or Sara will suddenly decide that she never wants an alien to fool her or hurt her again so she’s going to make sure he doesn’t have the choice. I’m just talking about the way they address each other. There are no sobbing tears or laments over the biggest mistakes of their lives - even though it’s quite possible Gary could see this as his. There are no screaming matches over betrayal and mistrust and years of doubt and confusion. There will be no episode dedicated to going back and seeing what could have happened - what kind of danger they could have avoided from the alien(s) controlling Gary - had he told them the truth sooner because that’s the only way to save him and the world. There will be no episode where he has to single-handedly save them multiple times as some example of redemption. There will be no adamant looks and declarations about how the team knows his intentions were good and they forgive him. There won’t be any of that. Because Sara is not in love with Gary. And Ava is not in love with Gary. And Gary is not in love with either Sara or Ava. They’re just close friends. Family. Loved ones who mean a lot to each other but whose betrayal and seeds of doubt don’t bring on emotions whose force and ferocity could be acceptable for finding out the apocalypse is nigh.

I have many, many more feelings about this but right now I’m going to go write things that will make me feel better and not things that make me want to gather every writer from every CW show in a line and run down the line smacking them all in the face while the Legends writers watch and cheer. But I’m fuming. THIS is what it looks like when a years-long, heavily weighted lie is revealed between close friends/family. So, in conclusion, Supercorp endgame or die.

[highdwightofmylife]

*kicks down the door* YOUR GLUSKIN AS FATHER HEADCANNONS HAND EM OVER!

(VIOLENTLY TRIES TO PUT THE DOOR BACK ON) YOU FUCKING GOT IT SWEETHEART

Raising a Child with Eddie Gluskin

Anybody who's anybody knows that Eddie had some rather toxic parental figures (father specifically, I don't remember how much of his mother was mentioned). He's had it ingrained into him that he needs a wife, and then kids, and then he'll be as happy as can be.

So I mean depending on how much you've worked with him to get these views gone, he might be different. He'll likely be a very protective father, finding issues in anyone but immediate family being within touch distance of his child. But to be fair, that goes for you, his s/o, as well.

Who knows how how the kid arrived -- it'll obviously change depending on you and your anatomy and personal views regarding child bearing, whether you adopt, find some random urchin, whatever. You have a child now, congratulations.

Please. Do not raise. A child. In Mount Massive. Please. I mean they'd be relatively safer under Eddie's influence over the variants, but no one is truly safe there and no child, or anyone really, should have to deal with that.

So say, maybe, post asylum business, maybe you managed to get Eddie out of there and get him the help he so deserves and he's semi functional as a member of society now.

I imagine he'd want a perfect little house with a white picket fence. He'll demand a tree in the garden when you're property searching and if you ask why, he'll smile and tell you to think of the beautiful children you will inevitably have.

Listen, he spoils those kids rotten. Any child that is biologically his or not, as long as he's the designated care-takimg father, he will fucking dote on them. What they want, they get. He devotes so much time to them. It's probably because he doesn't want to turn out like his father, but really he just... The that they love him, unconditionally, scars and all, just makes him so proud. It makes him weak in the heart, sis.

He may attempt to force gender roles on your kids, I'm sorry. Please be patient with him, consider how he was raised, and gently try and teach him that there's more to it than how he himself was raised. He will listen to you, especially if you are the other parent in the relationship.

But on that note, you have a kid that wants to wear dresses? Well. They better be fucking prepared. PREPARED TO BE THE BEST DRESSED CHILD OF THE CENTURY, THAT IS. Eddie loves to spend hours at a sewing machine, and he will outfit your kids to perfection. His favourite thing is making dresses, but he'll also sew all kinds of things to suit your kids needs.

Which means you never have to buy halloween costumes ever again

Okay, but picture this. Eddie's reclining by the fire. He's fallen asleep and his tie is crinkled. Your child is curled up on his lap, head pressed into the crook of his neck. You whisper his name to see if he's completely asleep and he simply smiles, tells you to shush, ans kisses the kid on the top of the head.

Eddie sucks at sports you heard it from me first your kid is practing baseball or something with him and they throw the ball and it bonks him on the head so hard he gets knocked out and wakes with a horrific fear of balls

You keep coming home to see that Eddie is attempting to teach the child to ballroom dance and if the kid complains he's just like "YOU'LL NEED THIS TO WOO YOUR TRUE LOVE, AS I DID MINE"

I just imagined Eddie having a lil fake tea party with the kid. Several little kid chairs, he's on one, the kids on another, three teddy bears on other ones. You peek into the bedroom and see him dramatically recounting some fake gossip to one of the Teddy bears, and he's wearing a feather boa, with an empty plastic tea cup in his hand, while your child is fucking crying laughter at him.

Look its because he says go big or go home when u parent ok let him be dramatic with his kids they love him

[junicai]

applause.

| order no. | 10/21

| summary | While filming for NCT2020, Aria fears her interview partner is coming down with a fever. Spoiler alert: He’s not. 

| word count | 1.8k

| warnings | None

| era | circa. December 2020

a/n: ok so i figured i’d mark my return to posting with a lil floof for the soul :) before i ruin it again :) so here u go here are two idiots being idiots :)

Oftentimes, it was easy to forget just how many members NCT had amassed over the years.  With the sub-units separated the majority of the time for their own promotions; the odds were that if you weren’t in a sub-unit with another member, you’d rarely interact with them outside of the company walls. 

NCT2020 was incredible in that sense. Twenty three boys and one girl, all in one room, singing the same songs and performing together. The impact left on the spring-flooring when they danced as a group physically shook the mirrors. 

They had a reputation to uphold; something which every single member took as seriously as a blood oath. 

Aria, over the years, had formed bonds with most of the other boys. She hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter; it was either, make friends with the people around you, or have no friends at all. It was lucky, in that sense, that they were all so warm and welcoming. She found her home in the 127 dorms, and later, her family with the Dreamies. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

The fact remained, however, that when it came to Aria and WAYV - there was a gap. Be it because of the differing promotional schedules, or the fact that SM had point blank refused to acknowledge WAYV as a sub-unit of NCT up until the announcement of the NCT2020 promotions; the bottom line was, Aria didn’t know half of the members beyond their first name.

So, when the randomized name selection came out, and she was paired with Xiaojun; Aria took a deep breath, and reminded herself that this was a chance to start to form some new relationships.

She’d never been all too good at making friends as a child - always a little too shy, and then all of a sudden far too abrasive in a lost attempt to compensate for her earlier quietness. 

Sitting beside the boy in question, Aria left her hands tucked beneath her thighs to prevent herself from fidgeting. The air between the two vocalists was thick; and Aria found herself looking around desperately for Mark or Ten or hell even Yuta, even though she knew Dejun was significantly more scared of him than her.

Anything to break the awkward, stifling silence that was hanging over the both of them.

“Do you-”

“Hey, I-”

They turned to face each other at the same time, sentences blending together before being cut off abruptly. Aria’s face flamed beneath the foundation, and by the darkening tips of Dejun’s ears, she could tell his cheeks were flushing as well. 

“Go ahead.” He gestured with a nod. 

“No no, it’s okay! What were you saying?” Aria disagreed. 

“Uh, I was just wondering if you feel the breeze as well?” Dejun questioned, hands coming to tug his light jacket around his shoulders tighter. “It’s giving me goosebumps,” He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Aria frowned. “No? It’s quite warm in here I thought.” The pair were surrounded with several lamps that were shining large bulbs onto their faces. With the heat from them, and the blanket that she had tucked over the legs, Aria was toasty warm - but a quick glance at the thin material Dejun’s jacket was made out of had her untucking the corner and folding it out again. 

“Here,” She offered, holding out the edge of the blanket. 

“Oh no I can’t,” Dejun began to refuse, but a shiver ran down his spine, cutting his words up into pieces. 

Aria raised an eyebrow. He relented.

“Thank you.” He acquiesced, once the soft material had been laid over his lap. He was still shivering lightly, but the body-shaking tremors had worn off, so Aria was better pleased than she was a minute ago. 

“Okay!” A voice called from outside the set. “It’s just an interview, like you were both briefed. Feel free to take it where you want and - Aria can you just -” The director gestured to Dejun. “Don’t sit so far away, people will think you’re scared of him.” He teased. 

Coughing lightly, Aria scooched towards Dejun, the blanket bunching up in-between their legs. She could feel him leaning back slightly, as if he was afraid of their faces being too close together. 

“Little more.” He insisted, now peering at the two through the viewfinder of the camera. 

Aria shuffled into the middle of the set’s sofa, her knee lightly brushing Dejun’s thigh. 

“Better! Now just don’t look like someone’s about to shoot you.” 

Aria opened her mouth before schooling her expression back into something less, terrified. “Sorry!”

This close, she could see the light flush that sat high on Dejun’s cheeks. His eyes were slightly glassy, and his chest was moving at a moderately quicker pace than it had been a few minutes ago. 

Aria placed a hand on his arm, lightly, patting the exposed skin where he had rolled up the sleeves. 

The filming went as well as it could. As they were told prior to entering the set; it was just a couple questions on how they were getting on together as a group, what it was like performing as a mix of all twenty three members, recounting some entertaining tidbits from the practice room or from behind stage. 

Over the next hour, the icy feeling that had surrounded the two vocalists melted into a comfortable conversation, soon drifting away from the interview questions and flowing sweetly into a little chat that czennies were sure to adore. 

With Dejun now turned to face Aria completely, and Aria sitting back with her shoes kicked off and her feet tucked beneath her; they were solely focused on each other; like the cameras had stopped rolling a half hour ago (They hadn’t) and they were old friends, catching up (They weren’t).

Aria learnt that Dejun had a penchant for green tea lattes, and the number eight. He slept on the top bunk, and was a lot funnier than his members gave him credit for. 

Dejun learnt that Aria was a lot more accident prone than her ‘professional image’ would let on, that she has a dimple on her right cheek when she smiles, that when she smiles she beams - bright enough to beat out a lightbulb - and that her favourite colour was yellow and she still looked at the stars when she got homesick.

Aria learnt that Dejun wanted to travel to Paris one day, that he wanted to learn how to bake bread properly and that he stayed up too late playing games only to regret it the next morning every single time. 

Dejun learnt that Aria had an addicting laugh; and he wanted to hear it as many times as he could. That he wishes she’d let herself laugh for longer; that she wouldn’t lift her hand to cover her face as she giggled.

His cheeks flushed brighter, the tips of his ears now a bright red. 

“Dejun? Are you alright?” Aria leant forwards into his space, her face moving closer to his. She had noticed the poor boy’s flush over the course of the last hour; but the pink was slowly becoming a deep red, and her concern was deepening with it.

Dejun immediately pulled back; floundering. “Yeah! Yup, yes, absolutely fine.” 

“Pardon?” 

“I’m doing wonderful! Are you alright? Aria?” Dejun flipped the question on her, sweat beginning to bead beneath his fringe. 

Aria squinted at him, relenting. “I’m okay, yeah. Are you still cold?” 

“No!” The reply was sharp, and she jerked back a little. 

“Oh- okay- sorry?” Aria pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, worrying the skin lightly. 

Dejun could have punched himself in the face, but he settled for pinching himself beneath the blanket where it was out of sight.

“Aaand, cut!” 

The two vocalists turned to the director who was grinning madly. “That was perfect, you two. I don’t know what you did, or where you pulled that from, but you’re definitely the best duo we’ve had in here so far.” 

Aria didn’t think that was hard, there had only been two other groups in before them, but she kept these words wisely to herself. 

“You’re both free to go! I’ll expect to be seeing a lot more of you together though, this is going to go down an absolute treat.” The director’s smug little grin reminded Aria of a cat who had gotten the cream; and her own little grin formed to match it.

“Thank you,” The two bowed lightly towards the staff, before collecting their things from the set and shuffling towards the door again. Once outside, they were silent again - but this time the lack of noise was not unsettling. 

“Hey I-”

“What about-”

Dejun and Aria looked at each other momentarily, before bursting out into laughter. 

“Okay that has to stop.” She giggled, hand coming to rest on his arm. 

“Agreed,” Dejun coughed out, ears flushing one final time. 

“You sure you’re feeling alright? You looked a little flushed back inside; that’s all.” 

“Fine!” He squeaked. “It must have been, uh, the lights, or something. Yeah.”

Aria puffed her cheeks out, but made no further comment.

Pulling away, she slipped her feet into the runners she was wearing for the interview - uncaring as to whether or not she’d accidentally break the backs of them. They were old ones, anyway, ones she’d been gifted as part of a brand deal that had fallen through; no wonder, she thought, as the shoes really were all look and no practicality. They were the least comfortable shoe she owned - and Aria owned a lot of uncomfortable shoes. 

“’Til next time?” She straightened up, head turned to Dejun.

He nodded, going to extend a hand as Aria stepped forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug. 

What followed, was a painstakingly awkward hand-body-shuffle-jerk dance that left Aria’s face flushed red from embarrassment and Dejun’s desire for the ground to open up and swallow him whole growing to immense proportions. 

Eventually, Dejun moved away, waved, turned on his heel and borderline sprinted away back down the hallway before Aria had a chance to return the wave. He rounded the corner, slowing to a stop in anticipation of slamming his head into the wall. However, thinking against it, Dejun instead turned to put his back to the wall, sinking down against it; lifting a hand to smack himself in the forehead. 

“Idiot.”