#prime moving Boston

[freshlove-sturn]

texts w bsf!chris

<- previous, part 6, next ->

continuation of part 5!!

nick goes to open the back drivers side door of the car, before chris quickly places his hand over the door handle.

“you can sit in front again, i wanna sit with y/n.” chris suggests, trying to sound casual but the hint of desperation in his voice is apparent to all of us.

nick raises an eyebrow, “you’re actually ridiculous chris” he shakes his head before walking around to the other side and sitting up front.

i smile almost teasingly at chris, a pink tinge becoming present on his cheeks.

“you want aux?” chris asks.

“no, i’m okay with whatever yall want to play.” i tell him.

“you sure?” he asks again, just to be sure.

“chris this is literally like suffocating.” matt pipes up, peering back at us through the rear view mirror.

“i’m just making sure.” chris defends.

chris and i have always had a flirty friendship, but lately i’ve noticed a new intensity to it all. it’s like every time i turn around he’s there, primed and ready with a new excuse to be close to me. it seems like the entire dynamic of our friendship was changing right in front of me.

but i wouldn’t call it a bad change.

while he used to casually brush his hand against mine, or throw out a teasing, flirty comment here and there, he now finds every excuse to touch me- whether that be his knee pressed against mine whenever we sit next to eachother, much like right now as he sits beside me, occasionally stealing glances at me, or moving past me with his hand pressed against the small of my back.

he takes any chance he can get to compliment me, telling me how pretty i am, that i’m smart, talented, even things as random as he likes the way i look in green.

and then of course, the way he looks at me.

he has a longing eyes that weren’t there in boston, like he’s trying to tell me something without words.

i’d be lying if i said i didn’t love every part of it.

we pull up to the restaurant and matt throws the car in park. chris opens the door for me, of course, extending out his hand for me to take in assistance.

“i can’t remember if i told you already, but you look really nice y/n.” matt remarks, a warm smile playing on his lips.

“thanks.” i smile, accepting the compliment.

i glance over at chris, his jaw slightly clenches at the compliment. i brush my fingers against his to ease the tension.

once we enter the restaurant, the host escorts us to our seats. chris’s hand planted on the small of my back, guiding me.

we get sat in a booth and chris slides in next to me. his legs brushes against mine under the table, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. the soft hue of the overhead lights casting a warm hue on chris’s features, illuminating them perfectly.

chris’s arm drapes casually on the back of the booth, his fingers grazing my shoulder gently. it’s a small gesture, but it feels so intimate, almost as if he’s taking a silent claim over me. i try focusing on the menu, but it’s almost impossible with him this close.

“what’re you thinking about getting?” chris leans down to speak to me, his breath warm against my ear with the close proximity.

“i actually don’t know. this is the biggest menu ive ever seen in my life.” i laugh, glancing around at the endless options.

“i recommend the alfredo, just sayin” he suggests with a casual shrug.

“you always recommend alfredo.” i roll my eyes playfully.

“and it’s always the best thing.” chris defends.

“actually, it doesn’t sound half bad.” i admit.

“see? what did i tell you?” he says confidently. earning another eye roll from me.

a little while after we take our order, our food arrives.

as we eat and talk casually amongst ourselves, matt interrupts the conversation.

“oh y/n, you kinda got something right there.” he gestures to the corner of my mouth. “here i got it.” he leans over the table with a napkin, gently wiping the sauce from my face.

“oh thank you.” i murmur, feeling slightly flustered from the interaction, but i shake it off when i notice chris’s sudden change in demeanor. he goes quiet for the first time tonight, i give his hand a gentle squeeze under the table.

was he jealous of matt?

surely not. why would he be? matt is his brother, and im his best friend.

his friend.

and that was it.

after dinner, the drive home was painfully quiet. you could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

now chris and i sit silently in his bed. i excuse myself to go take a shower, in hopes that maybe he would get over whatever had his so pissed off by the time i was done.

“i’m gonna go shower.” i stand up, grabbing a pair of pajamas out of my suitcase.

“k.” chris replies coldly.

i stop myself from saying anything, i didn’t want to argue with him.

…

i walk back into chris’s room, and sit back in his bed. chris had turned on netflix, and was watching love island.

“watcha watching?” i ask, desperate to break the silence.

“what’s it look like?” he responds sarcastically.

i was done holding my tongue, “chris what is your problem? why are you so mad?” i ask, my patience finally snapping.

“maybe next time you want to gawk over my brother, don’t do it in front of me.” he snaps back.

“are you serious?” i scoff. “that’s what this is about? matt wiping sauce off my face?”

“you’re fully capable of doing it yourself, no?” chris retorts.

“you’re acting as if i asked him to do that, he was just being nice.” i defend, my voice tinged with frustration.

as i sit there, facing chris, a whirlwind of thoughts race through my mind. i can’t believe we were arguing about something as trivial as matt wiping sauce off my face. it seemed so insignificant, yet chris was clearly upset. i can’t help but feel a mix of frustration and confusion. why is he making such a big deal out of this? does he seriously think i have any control over matt's actions?

deep down, i wonder if theres more to chris's reaction. is he really that jealous? the idea of that seems almost absurd, but there’s no denying the intensity in his eyes. i try to push the thought away, focusing instead on defending myself. i hadn't done anything wrong. matt was just being nice, and it felt unfair to be blamed for something so innocent.

yet, despite my in doubtable irritation, a small part of me couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. if chris actually is jealous, does that mean he cares more than he lets on? was the flirty behavior more than just chris being typical chris? the thought is both thrilling and terrifying. i don’t want to read too much into it, but the possibility lingered in the back of my mind, adding another layer of complexity to our already tangled relationship.

chris’s expression softens when he sees the frustration in my eyes. he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“i’m sorry.” he says quietly. “i overreacted. it’s just, shit, i don’t know. maybe i’m just jealous.” he admits.

“chris you don’t have to be jealous.” i tell him.

he looks at me, eyes full of sincerity. “yeah i know, i just care about you, a lot and sometimes it just gets the best of me.”

a small smile tugs on my lips. “i care about you too chris. more than you know.”

“but, can you just promise me you’ll talk to me when things bother you before you go an be a dick about it?” i tease, extending my pinky out to him.

“i promise.” he laughs, interlocking his pinky with mine.

a/n: sorry i didn’t know how to really end this LMAO. i don’t really know how to feel about this part tbh. PLEASE lmk your thoughts/ what you would like to see in future parts. my requests are ALWAYS open and highly appreciated and encouraged.

taglist: @conspiracy-ash @pouring-rains @aniesvision @sturniolo-fann @mattttypooh @sarosfilms @oliviasturniolo21 @le4hsblog @stonermattsgf @fratbrochrisgf @sassysturniolo2008 @creamoncreamoncream2 @st7rnioioss @chrizzysturns @lisask8s @mattnchrisworld @sturnioloblues @spencerstits @chrisstopherfilmed @sturnzsun

[mgparker]

keep your eyes on me

joel miller x f!reader

warnings: ANGST, stab wound, mentions of violence and blood, lots of violence actually, protective!joel, reader being moody and angsty, some gore (wound details), inaccurate stuff probably (definitely), inconsistencies for sure

word count: 6.63k UNEDITED

here’s the full version of ‘keep your eyes on me.’ i apologize in advance for the reader’s moody and angsty monologue in the intro and all that follows after. prepare the tissues?

The mission was simple.

A quick in and out, a regular check for supplies in one of the surrounding buildings of the QZ and that was it. Nothing you hadn’t done countless times already, even before Joel entered your life, and it was relatively easy.

The hardest part was sneaking past the supervised borders and even that had been figured out when you started paying one of the guards to turn a blind eye whenever you went out for a run.

It just so happened that this run had to occur in the smack-dab middle of a feud you’d found yourself in simply because you associated yourself with Joel Miller and Tess Servopoulos. 

It didn’t help that Joel, in particular, rarely associated himself with anyone at all. Perhaps that’s what made you a prime target in his dispute with his former partner Robert Navarro. 

Because Joel went out of his way to join your side more often than either of you cared to admit, it made sense that, in turn, Robert’s fury would extend to you. 

That’s how you found yourself a little more jumpy than usual, on edge as you scoured the few abandoned buildings in the far east of Boston that hadn’t been touched by common smugglers… or you. 

A crash tore you out of your compulsive thinking and you sprang into action before you could even blink. 

The end of your newly sharpened blade found Joel standing on the other side of it, a scorned look on his face mixed with a hint of annoyance. 

“You could’ve taken my eye out,” he grumbled with a slight shove as he moved past.

It wasn’t enough for you to lose your footing, but you scowled at him anyway. “Don’t expect me to apologize for your foolishness.”

“Never,” he called back from the next room. 

You pocketed the knife and sighed. 

Despite your banter, you’d consider Joel a good friend. And even that was an understatement; despite the code of living you’d created and stuck to since life had been uprooted and torn from beneath you nearly two decades ago.

Truth is, since the moment you met him, Joel Miller somehow dug his way into your rigid heart, along with Tess in some ways, but Joel was different. You weren’t sure if it was the hardened exterior that masked a broken person underneath, much like you, or something else, but it didn’t take long for his acquaintance to become friendly and then something more. 

Like it or not, the warm feeling you’d get whenever Joel would reveal a new piece of himself, no matter how meticulously small, or when he’d simply exist around you was something you couldn’t ignore.

And nowadays, as the world was quickly becoming even colder and harsher, it was a feeling you found yourself unwilling to let go.

It was near impossible to find something that inspired feelings that didn’t match the gloominess and grayness of the world around you, and now that you had, it was like a drug.

But if his knee-jerk reaction to pulling away from any type of affection or semblance of love is any indication, Joel Miller could not and would not ever feel as deeply for you as you did for him. 

And though it left a painful lump in your throat, you’d accepted it long ago.

For now, you’d stick to the passive aggressive flow you two seemed to fall into in each other’s company. It was how you two had first treated each other before you got involved in each other’s lives and it wasn’t going to change now. 

You knew for sure, despite all other uncertainties revolving your relationship, consistency is something you both needed in these trying days. 

You’d settle for it as long as he stayed in your life. 

“Find anything interesting?” You’d been silent for too long. You realized it with an awkward jolt and you set yourself back into motion.

“No,” you called back. “You?”

“The whole place has been swept clean,” Joel sighed as he came back into the room.

“That can’t be right,” you leaned against the wall and stared at your feet in confusion. “The smugglers haven’t gotten this far, I’m sure of it.”

You looked up to find Joel staring down at you with a hint of sympathy. He knew how excited you were about this one—it was a medical building. Tall with a few stories of what you’d assumed had been doctors’ offices and reception areas.

You’d been kind of right. It definitely seemed to have been an office building of some sort, desks still neatly organized in separate cubicles, but everything was pristinely empty.

No medicine, no supplies, no tools. Nothing.

“Goddamnit!” You furiously kicked a nearby desk over.

Joel continued to stare at you with the same brewing frustration. With what you were both expecting to steal and sell off, it would’ve been enough to get the battery Joel needed to get the hell out of dodge. 

Despite the trip being for the sole purpose of finding his brother, Joel knew from the moment you started splitting your illegal earnings with him, you had both feet in the door. Getting out of Boston was just as important to you as it was for him. And while it may have started out for personal gain, you started caring about Joel’s mission somewhere along the way.

And despite his best efforts against it, Joel started caring about you. Battery or not, you were here to stay. 

You were in his life.

When he focused back into the real world, you were pacing the office space, mumbling to yourself with waving hands.

“Seriously, even yesterday these cabinets had been full—”

“Yesterday?” Joel cut in with furrowed brows. “You were here yesterday?”

“Where do you think I got those prescription lenses?” You’d returned yesterday with a box full of glass lenses, not the cheap shit—actual optometrist lenses, shit that would make you a fortune on the black market once you came back for the rest. When Joel got back from work yesterday to where you, him and Tess had been shacking up (an ‘apartment unit’ that was falling apart), he’d found you sitting on your bed, grinning from ear to ear with a small box full of them.

It'd made you a good amount of ration cards and you made enough to quietly pay a man who claimed he had a functioning battery on the market. Joel didn’t know yet— you weren’t going to tell him until the deal went through and the battery was in your hand.

No point in bringing anyone’s hopes up until it was a sure thing, right?

You brushed past Joel, bristling at the thought of someone taking your fortune.

He followed you towards the door, hot on your heels. 

“You went this far out by yourself? Are you crazy?” He realized how pathetic he sounded. How it teetered too close to sounding like he cared more than he should, but he did. 

And the mere thought of you putting yourself in serious danger irked him in a raging way.

“Our options were getting limited, Joel,” you whipped around with flames in your eyes. “And it would’ve got us what we needed. If that makes me crazy, so be it.”

Protectiveness wasn’t unusual for Joel. You’d see it when anyone spoke to you in the wrong tone. How he’d snap at whoever for even looking at you the wrong way. You’ve seen it with his insistency in finding his brother. 

And you’re seeing it now.

Only this time, it didn’t cause those stubborn butterflies in your gut. It only fueled your ever-growing frustration.

Joel grabbed your arm firmly. “If something had happened to you—"

Slam!

It cut off Joel before he could finish, both of you whipping towards the doorway and looking at the stairs that led to the first floor.

“Spread out,” a gruff voice commanded below you. “They’re in here somewhere.”

“Shit,” you cursed quietly, ripping your arm from Joel’s tight grip, rushing over to hide against the wall next to the open door.

Joel did the same, a loaded pistol in his right hand, aimed across his chest toward his left. He stared at you across the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You fell into immediate silence as Joel brought a finger to his lips, hushing you before you could utter another word.

“This is stupid, man. Everything’s untouched, are you sure they even came through—”

“Shut the fuck up. We follow his rules. We do our job, and we get paid and that’s it.”

Breath hitched in your throat, you stared over at Joel, watching his face contort with every piece of information the two idiots revealed.

“Isn’t he scared of this dude? I mean, if he wants them gone, why not come after them himself? Who knows what this Miller guy is capable of—”

“Get a fuckin’ grip, Santiago,” you nearly jumped out of your skin when his gruff voice sounded much closer. “It’s two of them against all of us. You’re a fuckin’ pussy. Don’t know why Robert chose you in the first place.”

Joel threw his head against the concrete with a roll of his eyes. But his fingers curled over the trigger and you did the same.

“I’m lookin’ out for myself,” their footsteps echoed up the stairwell. “You should do the same.”

Slowly raising your gun, your lips silently counted down.

‘5..’ Joel gave you a curt nod.

‘4’ “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Don’t talk about shit chu don’t know about.”

‘3’ You tried to check your ammo as quietly as possible.

‘2’ Something uncomfortable pricked at Joel’s stomach, staring at you as he imagined fighting side-by-side. It wasn’t his first time, but every single time got harder than the last. And this time, he wasn’t even sure how big the ambush would be. 

If something happened to you—

‘1.’

He shook his head a bit more aggressively than he meant, ignoring your questioning gaze, before swinging around the corner with his gun in one hand, blade in the other.

Instantly, the two men went to scream, but you and Joel took care of it quickly. You tried to ignore the pang of guilt in your chest as you fired your muffled weapon directly between one of the men’s eyes. 

Beside him, Joel held his partner against his front, hand over his gurgling mouth, blood spilling out the side of his neck.

Your eyes were locked on his until the man in his arms went limp and Joel let him drop emotionlessly.

You ignored the temptation to follow his body with your eyes and instead hardened your gaze toward Joel. 

It wasn’t his fault that you still hadn’t grown as desensitized as he had over the years, but your envy was hard to swallow. Even if you were better at hiding it, you knew Joel would’ve eventually noticed. Despite his careless exterior, Joel was a nitpicker, constantly inspecting, constantly searching. 

You were just glad that his faith in your abilities hadn’t wavered despite your stubborn empathetic streak. 

You refused to appear weak, especially in front of him. 

A rush of voices and footsteps pulled both you and Joel out of whatever spiral your minds had thrown you into, a calloused hand wrapping around your arm and dragging you to the center of the room and then pushing you to the right side behind a rather large desk. 

Your knees roughly hit the dusty mat in front of the workstation, and you whipped your head around to search for Joel before he could disappear within the room. 

A flash of brown hair was the only indication that your partner hadn’t left you high and dry, but you had no time to dwell on it. The door was busted down and a chorus of voices entered. 

They must’ve seen Santiago and whatever the other guy’s name was because there was a simultaneous shift in which your mind shut down everything else but the need to survive.

The sight of bullets flying registered before the sound of the shots, blood rushing to your ears and fingertips as you flew up instinctively, pulling your own trigger. 

The fight became quickly divided, a few more flocking toward Joel’s side of the floor and you felt the rush of determination more than ever. 

The adrenaline coursing through your veins as your mind chanted one thing only. 

Fight, survive, protect.

“You bitch!” A blonde came rushing toward you, face screwed in anger as he bared his teeth at you. 

He was lifting his gun, looking between you and Santiago’s body from behind your desk. You were quick to respond, lifting your weapon quicker and firing the bullet. 

You didn’t even get to see his body hit the ground. A sudden pain in your jaw blinded you, the force of a fist smashing against your face sending you tumbling into the nearest wall. 

Black spots dusted your vision and you quickly shook them away. You swung back and kicked against whoever had gotten the jump on you. 

His fist was wrapped in your hair, pulling as you fought back tirelessly. You managed to catch a glimpse of your attacker’s eyes before you were finally getting a grip on the pistol strapped to your thigh, firing into his side as he made one final move. 

Your skin tore quickly, stretching down your chest agonizingly, and you almost fell to the ground with him. 

A harrowing yell escaped you before you could help it. You’re not even sure how you managed to stumble away but you found yourself quickly pressing your hands against the knife that was still lodged in your stomach. 

Without hesitation, you ripped the weapon out. 

It was a hinderance to your survival, to Joel’s survival, and you couldn’t afford to wait on the sidelines. But then a wave of agony made you fall to your knees. 

You could hear your name being called over and over again, but then the blood was suddenly rushing into your head, your skull pounding behind your eyes.

Did you answer? Did you call Joel’s name like he did yours? God, the pain was blinding. Your hands shook violently as you tried to rip a piece of your jacket.

The fabric slipped between your fingers like water and you pulled away in frantic confusion.

Red. It was all over the place. It stained your fingers, your shirt— it wouldn’t stop. 

Why won’t it stop? 

A disgruntled breath escaped you, just as you rubbed your hands against your shirt again, and both things hit you like a freight train.

The pain, blossoming from the sharp intake of air and the contact against your ever present wound, was enough to send you tumbling in realization.

You’d ripped the knife out of your stomach. It wasn’t just a scratch. Your fight-or-flight mode seemed to override the severity of what had just happened.

“Shit,” you whispered, putting pressure against the wound despite every part of you wanting to pull away.

A distance away, Joel yelled your name again. It was desperate, enough to cut through your gaze of panic. As calm as you could manage, you threw him a glance over your shoulder. 

He was cornered again, three men surrounding him with knives and pistols. They were putting up a decent fight but it didn’t worry you. You’d seen your partner fight against greater odds and win without breaking a sweat.

As long as he stayed focused.

“I’m fine,” you called back to him, staring down at your blood-soaked hand. “Just got the wind knocked out of me is all.”

You hated lying.

The numbers behind you were slowly dwindling down...

Until suddenly they weren’t. 

A chorus of shouts emerged from the hallway to your right and a sudden rush of adrenaline numbed your pain.

You felt a flood of relief.

Joel couldn’t handle this alone. After everything you two had been through together, a stab wound was not going to take you out.

Not without a good fight before.

The grunts behind you finally died down and Joel was quick to join your side, pulling his handgun from the holster on his belt.

The action quickly started again, men flooding into the room with pointed guns.

Your finger pulled the trigger on instinct, taking down the closest man before he could make a move towards you. 

It was a series of bangs and flashes after that. Purely running off adrenaline and instinct, ducking behind whatever desks were still in one piece and flying back up with a bullet in tow.

Across the room, Joel was holding his own, clearing the room as quick as you were.

Suddenly, a bullet whizzed past your ear, close enough you could feel the rush of wind speed past you and you spun on your feet, firing before you even laid eyes on your final target.

Luckily, by the time you spotted him, the last man was dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.

Your arm fell slack, loosely gripping your pistol. 

It was silent for a few moments as you gazed over at your partner and he seemed just as winded as you.

Joel’s breaths were loud, chest heaving with exhaustion. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees. 

“They must’ve been tipped off,” he said.

The adrenaline was slowly leaving your body. 

Weakly, you nodded. You didn’t even stop to think that he had his back turned toward you.

The air was suddenly punched out of your lungs. The pain was back, and it felt like the prick of a hundred needles. You weren’t sure you could hold yourself up much longer.

“Joel…” Your lips could barely form the word. Where did all your strength go in an instant?

He must not have heard you over his increasing anger. Joel was a loud thinker; at least, he was with you. 

For anyone else, the man was a damn puzzle that was impossible to solve. It’s what made you feel a pang of guilt, just as your legs gave out, because there was a dreadful feeling in your gut that maybe this wasn’t one that you could come back from. Not this far out from the QZ, and even then. Medical supplies were scarce and expensive, more than both you and Joel could afford even with joint forces, seeing as most of everything you had had gone into this mission.

You hit the ground hard enough to send Joel spinning faster than you’d ever seen him move. His stance was sure, gun back in his hand before you could even see it move toward his belt, ready to take on whoever else had threatened him and you.

Black dots began to fizzle the corners of your vision.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Joel pocketed the weapon and rushed toward you. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.”

You tried. Your eyelids were too heavy.

A noise of panic left the back of his throat. “Open your eyes,” Joel grabbed your face roughly. “Look at me now!”

Startled, your eyes opened wide and a bit of awareness came back to you.

“What happened?” Joel demanded, scanning your body with urgency. His eyes zeroed in on your hands that were pressed against the wound.

Shakily, you pulled away and for a moment, he thought he was trapped in a nightmare. Blood coated your shaking palms.

“One of those fuckers got me good,” you hissed. Joel was mercilessly pressing his hands against your stomach now.

“Ease up, will you?” A flare of annoyance struck you when he pressed harder. “Jesus Christ—"

“I’m a little busy trying to save your life,” Joel gave you a hard glare. There was something in his eyes, a mix of frustration and anger and—and something else.

Joel Miller’s impeccable mask of calmness was cracking, panic seeping through the seams. 

That confirms it, you thought dreadfully. It really is as bad as I thought.

Things suddenly became blurrier than before. You squinted through the haze. “Sorry, I know. Sorry, it just—it just hurts.”

At that, he finally let up and curled his fingers around the hem of your torn shirt. As quickly as you nodded, Joel pulled the fabric up and instantly regretted it.

Though he tried hard to disguise it, you saw the drop in his expression, the disappointment in his gaze as he studied your stomach with a horrible poker face.

You looked up at the ceiling, a deeper pit in your stomach settling. You weren’t leaving this torn-up building. Not alive at least.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you angrily blinked them away before Joel could see them.

“It’s not too bad,” Joel said finally.

If you had the strength, you would’ve scoffed. “Don’t lie.”

“Like you did?” He accused.

You dropped your chin to glare at him through half-lidded eyes. “We were surrounded. You were surrounded. I had no choice.”

He was looking down at your torso again and you dared to follow his gaze.

Torn skin, fiery red around the ragged edges of what had been a rather large, hefty blade. It nearly dragged down to your navel, bleeding profusely down into the fabric of your pants, likely ripped open by the rush of adrenaline that allowed you to finish the rest of Robert’s men.

“Don’t ever lie to me again,” he began to tug on your arm, dragging you up from the ground with a grunt. “Never again.”

A whine escaped you before you could stop it, teeth gritting from the blinding pain, and you had half a mind to whack Joel with all the strength you could muster.

“Fuck,” you coughed. “W-warn me next time.”

An apology was at the tip of Joel’s tongue, but he swallowed it down. He wouldn’t start going easy on you now. Not until he was sure you were out of death’s reach, and he could properly scold you for being so stupid.

“Talk to me,” he demanded as he more or less dragged you down the first flight of stairs, struggling to store his gun in the holster of his belt. His hands were shaking too badly and a wave of nausea hit him. 

“Why?” You hissed in pain, brain still foggy from the blood loss and irritated from the numbness in your legs. You weren’t making sense of anything. 

Joel bit his lip harshly. “So, I can keep you awake. You need to be alert, you hear me?”

You didn’t hear him. 

In fact, all you could hear or think or even see was blinding red, an ache so deep in your bones. You weren’t even sure if you were still dragging your feet along.

Your silence had Joel stumbling to a stop, pushing you against the wall and pinching your cheek desperately. Your eyelids were barely open. A string of mumbles left your lips and Joel firmly shook your shoulders. 

“It—” you centered yourself again. “It hurts—"

The world spun again, and you were suddenly looking straight up at the underside of his jaw, clenched in worry, eyes straight ahead as he began to hustle down the rest of the stairs with you in his arms.

As he finally made it outside, the lump in his throat got harder to swallow and something began to crack in his chest. An anxiety that he hadn’t felt since he had someone else in his arms like this, since spilled blood coated his arms and shirt.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.

It was eerily quiet, only your protests that went unheard by him breaking the silence of sunset over the city, and his mind tortured him even further. 

Plaguing him with memories of when you were alive and well.

Joel knew he was in for a night of trouble when you came through the door that evening with a sly tone in your voice.

“Guess what I found today.”

“Trouble, no doubt,” Joel responded mindlessly, bottom lip pinched between the grip of his calloused fingers, troubled with memories of the past and the horrors of the possible future. 

You shrugged with a cunning smile on your face, sauntering to the ‘kitchen’ and out of his peripheral view. “Could be.”

He heard the clatter of your keys, the familiar rustle of you shrugging off your jacket, and he only looked up once you made your way to the edge of the living room. 

There was the hint of a smile on your face, as if you were containing an excitement over God knows what. It wasn’t often that he saw that particular look on your face. He secretly decided that he liked it a lot.

His gaze left your face as you pulled something out from behind your back and held it up with pride.

A dark red bottle dwarfed your hand in size, a peeling label wrapped around its front and he squinted his eyes to read the cursive inscription— ‘Tuscan Vineyards Cabernet.’

He looked up at you with wide eyes and you were full on smiling now. You walked over to him, and Joel had to arch his neck to look up at you from his spot on the floor. Gently, you handed it over.

“Can big and bad Joel Miller handle his liquor?”

“This is wine,” Joel scoffed, inspecting the bottle in his large hands. “I’d hardly consider this liquor.”

You watched as a hint of pink flooded the apples of his cheeks, despite his best efforts to ignore your teasing. The corner of your lips curled up.

“I don’t know,” you slipped the bottle out of his grip with a pointed sigh. “It’s been a while since we’ve had the good stuff. Our tolerance is probably not what it used to be.”

“Speak for yourself. I was never the first to tap out of any drinking game. That was Tommy’s job.”

You tried not to let the surprise show on your face. 

It was rare that Joel spoke about his past, and with how anxious he was to hear from his little brother, you were surprised he was bringing him up so casually. 

Busying yourself by getting up from some glasses, you threw an eyebrow raise over your shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

Joel rolled his eyes. Even after you turned around, he kept staring at you, entranced by your fluid movements, reaching to set two glasses down and searching for a suitable knife within the stash you had accumulated in the apartment. 

There was something so normal about watching you flounce along the kitchen, eager to indulge in a treat you two hadn’t had since before the world ended. 

It was almost… domestic.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Joel cast it away just as quickly, sharply looking away from your figure and glaring down at the carpet with a sudden anger. 

Domesticity and anything along the lines ceased to exist for Joel long, long ago. Even if an odd pang in his chest was begging him to look back at you and chase the feeling, he’d ignore it and bury it down deep inside.

He couldn’t afford to entertain such thoughts.

“Ah!” You carefully crossed the living room, two glasses full to the brim in your grip. “Finally.”

Seeing the alcohol had Joel perking up slightly, quickly accepting his cup with a familiar spark in his eye. 

“Thanks,” he grumbled slightly, still bewildered by his impulsive thoughts. Silently, he watched as you carefully lowered yourself to the ground beside him, folding your legs under yourself and letting out a sign of relief as your muscles finally took a much-needed break.

You were tempted to clink your glasses against his, and it seemed Joel had the same beat of hesitation too, but you quickly reeled yourself back in. 

This world hardly allowed for any wins, and now it was just pitiful to raise your glass in this day and age.

A nod will have to do, Joel decided first, and you gratefully tipped your head back toward him. 

The tartness burst along his tongue at the first sip, smooth but shockingly strong, carving its way down his throat slowly.

Beside him, you also drank with a pleased hum. 

“Where’d you find this?” Joel asked as soon as he’d gotten his first fill. 

“The city,” you avoided his eyes, busying your mouth with wine again.

You were a shit liar when it came to personal affairs. 

“I’ll ask again,” Joel corrected with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Who’d you steal this from?”

“Some guy named John Dean, ’twas the name on the liquor license in the bar. You think I could afford this on the market? We’re lucky John had this stashed in the back.”

“I can see why. It’s pretty damn good,” Joel admitted.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s a shame Tess isn’t here to share with us.”

Right. He’d almost forgotten about her impromptu solo trip to ‘visit some friends’ in Detroit.

If he cared more, Joel would’ve pressed for more information, but Tess had never done him, or you, wrong before. It wasn’t his job to worry about her personal life.

Joel hummed in response. The sun was setting, casting you two in darkness and neither of you made an effort to get up and flick on the light switch...

Time must’ve eluded him because your voice cut through the silence that had settled like a knife. 

“We’ll find him, you know?”

Joel hardened his gaze and took another sip. The wall was suddenly very interesting.

“We’re going to find your brother,” you said again, staring over at Joel with a look he couldn’t quite place. Not even after he moved his eyes over to you.

Your eyes were rounded with sincerity, the golden hues of the sun reflecting in your gaze, lips parted with hints of stained red. The glass of wine hung between your fingers loosely, half-full but still briming with unspoken truths. 

It was that look in your eyes that cracked his rugged exterior, meticulously built from years of grief and horror. 

He wanted to say something, anything, but he was coming up blank. Ensnared by the absolute beauty you exuded in this very moment. 

He’s been looking at you for much longer than you’d consider normal, there’s no point in pushing anything away now. Might as well go the full nine yards.

And just as he was taking that leap, bringing his face closer to yours, his own hands flashed in his vision. 

Covered in a red deeper than the stain on your lips, dripping and dripping...

Joel pulled back with a jolt, unnoticing to the small sigh that left your mouth, and tried to blink away the blood on his shaking hands. 

He swallowed down the bile that threatened to burn the roof of his mouth with a sip of wine.

Death followed him around every corner. His failure to protect what was his would always haunt him.

He couldn’t allow it to happen again.

Your breaths evened out after a moment, and he listened to them with closed eyes.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t let you be another casualty. 

You had to stay alive. Joel would keep you alive...

You’d said something before he managed to fuck things up. 

Joel racked his brain for the memory. It seemed like it’d been so long ago. 

‘We’re going to find your brother.’ That’s what you’d said...

Joel would keep you alive, even if every nerve in his body ached to connect with yours. He wanted to explain it to you, but you’d made him a promise. He’s making one to you too. He’s going to keep you alive...

‘We’re going to find your brother,’ you’d said.

Apologize. Explain. His brain was screaming at him-- no.

Respond.

“Okay,” is what he settled for instead.

You were still alive. 

You were still alive and that’s the only thing that mattered. He had to keep it that way. 

“Stop,” you begged breathlessly. It was like he hadn’t even heard you, pushing on even as the sun began to set in the west.

How long had it been?

There was a buzzing in your head; it was numbing, as if you’d been injected with some sort of laughing gas. It was a little bizarre and it was enough to add some bass in your tone.

“Joel, please. Stop.” 

It was your grip that made Joel finally look down. Your hand, quivering and weak, had come to wrap around his bicep, nails digging in with urgency.

He staggered as he looked into your dim eyes, half-lidded and bloodshot red.

“Put me down,” you whispered. “Please.”

You were slipping away; he could feel it. 

It was happening all over again, and he was helpless to stop it.

“No,” he said firmly, but his body was still going through the motions. He was still falling on his knees, a shock spreading to his spine, but he didn’t feel the pain. 

All he could feel was you.

Your staggering breaths, the twitching of your hands, he guessed some sort of state of shock from the blood loss… It was probably a miracle that you hadn’t passed out from it all yet.

Gravel dug into his jeans, but he paid it no mind, frantically searching your eyes for something. Anything—any sort of solution because he couldn’t go through this again.

Desperately, he pulled up your shirt to look at your wound. The blood wasn’t clotting, it was going faster than your body could respond.

Maybe he could find something to stitch you up with, try to work through all the blood, but the small logical part of him knew that searching through any of these buildings would be like finding a needle in a haystack. And he didn’t trust that you’d keep yourself awake while he was gone…

With a jolt, Joel realized he was no longer hearing anything at all. Your breaths had gone eerily quiet, your hands devastatingly still…

“Hey!” Joel looked toward your face frantically. 

His shout jolted you awake, reaching toward the last bits of consciousness your brain could muster. 

It was as if a thousand-pound weight had been tied to your ankle and you’d been thrown in the ocean. Desperately reaching for the surface as you sank further and further. Like your oxygen was running out...

“Hey, stay with me, you’re not allowed to rest. Not yet.”

You’re barely able to pinpoint where the voice is coming from until he’s shaking your shoulders roughly. 

Your eyes focused back on Joel, a heaviness in your chest.

“Joel?” It takes an extreme amount of effort to form his name on your lips, but you know it’s worth the pain. The dull headache it forms to not give into the peaceful silence that sleep was promising you. It was luring you in, but love made in a little bit easier to keep yourself rooted to the land of the living.

“I’m here. I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not—”

He’s caught by surprise when a sob lodged itself in his throat. He did his best to swallow it down.

It felt like something was ripping at his own chest, breaking through the grief he’d buried down decades ago. And his grip on your body got tighter. 

Joel pulled you in to his body like he’d done years ago.

He loved you. God, he loved you. It was threatening to swallow him whole, the flood of emotions as he stared down at your pale cheeks and dim eyes. 

He’d denied himself the opportunity to love you, truly love you, because of his stubborn belief that he knew what was best for you.

He knew that if he allowed himself to indulge, he’d set you both up for disaster. Because that’s just how the universe worked for him.

But now, as he sat doused in your blood, Joel Miller felt a deeper heartbreak than anything he could’ve ever imagined the universe had in store for him.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel this way after Sarah.

He was a fool.

“Joel—” you breathed with a hint of a smile.

“Why? Why did you lie—you should’ve told me before—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you coughed, the taste of iron on your tongue. “I wasn’t going to let them get the jump on us. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you—”

You’re kidding. Even as you look death in the face, you’re talking about his safety before your own. 

It cracked his heart further.

His lips quivered and you were so close that you could feel the small puffs of breath that escaped them. “We gotta get back to the QZ, the sun’s going down. We gotta get you stitched up—“

Even though his knees screamed against it, he was already hauling you two back up before your shrill scream sent him right back down in panic. 

One look at your pained expression and he was reminded that he couldn’t afford to spare you the luxury of rest.

“I know, I know it hurts, I know,” he repeated because he was stuck in the same nightmare. “I’m sorry, I know.”

“No,” you begged. “We won’t make it. Please, please, Joel. Stop.”

He only managed a few staggering steps before he was collapsing again, shrinking into himself in anguish. 

It seemed like a century had passed as he sat on the gravel, cradling your frail body.

Joel didn’t even feel the tears running down his face until your fragile hand touched his cheek.

“I—I should’ve said it before, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” it was getting harder to breathe, but you knew this was what you wanted to use your last breaths for. 

“I love you, Joel Miller... And –”

Joel’s eyes flew open in shock, staring into yours in disbelief. 

He was unlovable, he’d made sure of that, but here you were. Looking at him with the most sincerity he’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes, glistening with unshed tears of what could’ve been.

“And I’m sorry I’m telling you this now. But you—you had to know. Tell Tess I’m sorry and that she better find what she’s looking for in—in Detroit.”

“Y/N…” His hands cradled your face, just as you ran your fingertips over his quivering lips.

“You’ll be okay, Joel,” you smiled weakly. “You’re going to find Tommy and you’re going to be okay.”

“Please.”

You seemed to ignore his plea, choosing to look over at the orange sunset with that same easy smile on your lips.

And when it slowly began to drop, when your eyes started to glaze over, Joel leaned over to press his lips against the corner of yours, feeling the air leave your parted mouth. And his lips found your forehead, pressing firmly with the whispers of a thousand apologies against your skin.

And there he sobbed, cradled your head into his neck, facing away from the sunset your eyes lastly rested on, the world falling apart at his knees.

Joel Miller loved you too. You left this world without knowing it.

He loved you too.

uh… this will be edited 1000% when i’m completely sober <3 tipsy elle clocking out!

— elle <3

taglist:

@rendiore @words-are-cheap @justhereforthosefics @angelmenace @lady-bellyn @encephalitiskat

@sloanexx @rendiore @words-are-cheap @justhereforthosefics @angelmenace @lady-bellyn @encephalitiskat

[tankirb]

Can't believe people are simping over the Elon Bot.

It's trying to hard to be smooth and human shaped but it simply doesn't work. It's torso is is shaped too much like a barrel but they tried to imply a chest through the shape. It's face is using a solid design but the head connect uses some form of fabric which isn't used anywhere else in the design. And it only gets worse once you go below the legs. The thighs and shin go for a taper making the lower legs look way too thin and makes it look top heavy. And the legs don't even move at the hip like a human would, it's legs move like master piece soundwave.

Rather than the legs moving at the hips. They move forward BELOW the hips at the thigh, creating unatural poses for what's trying to be a humanoid robot.

AND WORST OF ALL ARE THE HIPS They're so Skinny and bare. It makes the upper and lower half look like they were designed separately and connected with whatever they could find. Not to mention how important hips are for fuckability. You can't get a good grip on those hips.

Contrast all that against REAL robot designers. It's not trying to be human, it's leaning into robotic stylization. It's got the thin waste and wide hips prime for the grabbing. Look at it's uniform aesthetic. The rounded edges of the design helping the more square parts perfectly blend with the repeated circle motif. And the use of the dark gray to bring attention to the Joints, unashamed of how it moves. Speaking of which all of its joints are where a humans should be, simply with added range of motion for practical purposes

Elon's Optimus is a vain robot who only cares about outward appearances. People only look at the top part of the body so that's all they cared about when designing it. Even then it was hard carried by the suit and bow tie outfit it was put in because the robot design itself sucks.

Boston dynamics is an aesthetically consistent, practical, and frankly more fuckable robot. That's the one you should be wanting to fuck.

[yinwaryuri]

Seeing a lot of upset posts about how the show ended with Boston and feeling like something really went over a few heads. Do I also believe Boston deserved better? Yes. But let's be realistic in the way Jojo and Ninew approached this.

Boston and his promiscuity have been the target of harsh judgements from episode one. And the writers have stated that he has a moral code, it's just very different from others. I was never expecting him to state it outright, that it would just be a thing worth paragraphs of speculative meta, but he does!

Boston stated his definition of boyfriend. If he wants to be exclusive, that's for all the emotional bonding that he desires with someone special, but does not deny him the ability to fulfill his physical desires with whomever he wishes. That's not just polyamory, it's a very specific kind!!! And it's entirely different from the traditional sort of relationship society has accepted. The thing is, he wouldn't have discovered that possibility without knowing Nick.

Boston did genuinely fall for Nick. But how could he have handled that properly when he has no experience being loved and has never learned how to love someone back? Moreover, how could he come to the conclusion that he likes being exclusive in one way but not another without absolutely fumbling the bag with someone who's on a different page? It's not exactly Nick's fault that he prefers physical affection to be exclusive as well, that's just how he is. There couldn't have been any discussion about this, it was a discovery in the making.

The truth is Boston would still have a hard time finding happiness in Thailand due to the political climate, especially with his father being a politician. He's gay and that alone makes achieving his dreams more difficult, but being as promiscuous as he is means even a majority of the queer community will shut him out. He's better off moving to the states where at least he has rights and better acceptance for who he is. And that's what happened.

Because having a sexual or romantic appetite outside of monogamy is still looked down on. I still see it in the BL fandom. I see it just in general. 3 Will Be Free is so often cited as a must-watch, but how many people stick to their comfort branded pairings?* How many people have made or heard jokes about the "Seattle polycule"? How many romantic aces and allosexual aros get othered and excluded and judged for their identity?

Jojo said there was no intended message, but that doesn't mean there isn't one to be found. Boston's arc is a prime example of how slutty queers get treated even by their own peers, even by people who care about them most. It's a cry from the cold and lonely dark that if we think these people deserve better, we need to change existing paradigms and find how we can give them that!

Nick wasn't prepared to do that because he is still hurting, and that's also okay. Not everyone has to change themselves to make the puzzle pieces fit. Boston and Nick's story centers around that so much. Nick being jealous and trying to copy Top, Boston trying to be what he thinks a boyfriend is - they only hurt each other because the parts that don't fit are digging in.

I hope we get a second season, but if not friends, remember Boston. He represents such a particular demographic that gets hated on and ignored constantly, and they deserve a chance. They're not easy, but that doesn't mean they're not worth it. Remember Nick too. We all have a Nick in some manner - someone that made us want to try, but no matter how much we cared for each other it just wasn't going to work. Family, friends, partners, whoever.

Instead of being outraged with the show, be outraged with society. Do something about it. Be kinder. Community is important, now more than ever. I cannot possibly overstate how much we need community, especially among minorities.

*this isn't meant to be judgmental toward fans who prefer branded pairings or aren't interested in that particular show. I know watching anything requires time and energy and scratching a certain itch at the right moment. It is, however, a concern that so many fans complained about numerous aspects of OF to the point where the creators went to the effort of explaining themselves on a weekly basis and editing certain parts to avoid backlash. I mentioned 3 Will Be Free because it's another example of Jojo's work. Many BL fans have heard of it, but only a small portion seem to have watched, and that can be an indicator of certain biases. This is not to imply anyone who hasn't seen it has said biases and is only intended to encourage reflection if needed.

[cariantha]

Good Driver

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Mature Warning: 🔥NSFW, contains sexual content Category: Fluff Word count: 1.2K Prompt: From @jerzwriter, “Before you marry someone, go sit in traffic with them for at least 2 hours.” How would Ethan and Sawyer do?

Due to the stormy weather, the return drive to Boston from Ethan’s childhood home in Providence has taken two hours longer than usual. Minor accidents littered the freeway, causing multiple slowdowns along the way. And now, despite being back on city streets, flashing emergency lights a half-mile ahead restrict lane access, resulting in a severe bottleneck of red taillights. Like runners at the start of a marathon, drivers eagerly look for openings to break away from the pack. 

White-knuckling the “oh shit” handle above the passenger seat door, Sawyer slams her foot on an imaginary brake pedal for the hundredth time since leaving Alan’s house.

“Jesus Christ, Rookie. Relax.” 

“I’m sorrrry. Traffic like this stresses me out.” 

“No shit,” Ethan says to himself, mentally rolling his eyes as she continues her anxiety-induced rambling.  

“Everyone’s boxed in and impatient and frustrated. I hate it when people cut over and force you to slam on your brakes and allow them in. It’s so rude. But heaven forbid you honk because it might trigger a road rage incident. And the torrential downpour isn’t helping matt-”

SCREECH!

A few cars ahead in another lane, the driver of a silver Honda slams on the brakes. The car's tail end skids on the slippery road, but the driver luckily maintains control. A loud and sustained honk screams at the bully in the Chevy truck, who had forced their way over without the courtesy of a blinker warning. 

“See!” Sawyer points at the cars that perfectly demonstrate her point and clutches the grab handle above her door tighter. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” 

“Recline your seat back,” Ethan gently commands. 

“Why?” she asks, shifting her gaze from the near accident to his unfazed profile. 

“To get your eyes off the road and to put you out of reach of that handle. You’re about to rip the damn thing off.”

Sawyer hesitates initially but then does as he says. “Fine,” she concedes. Reclining the seat to a one-hundred-and-fifty-degree angle, she leans back and covers her eyes with her forearm. 

Ethan reaches over and squeezes her thigh. “Now, unzip your pants.”

“What?!” she squeals with a laugh and a look that tells him he’s crazy. 

But he’s dead serious when he says, “You heard me. You’re so wound up. Let me help you relax.”

“But-”

“But nothing. We’re stuck in traffic, and I don’t see us moving along any time soon. I’m an excellent driver. Never been in an accident. Trust me. I’m used to driving in these conditions.”

“I do trust you. It’s those maniacs out there that I don’t trust,” she counters, waving her hand toward the windshield she can no longer see through. 

He squeezes her thigh again, then runs his fingers upward along the inside seam of her jeans until they graze her middle. When she opens her legs a little wider, he caresses her there and taps his fingers a couple of times. “C’mon, let me in.”

Caving, Sawyer takes a deep breath, unfastens her jeans, and pulls the zipper flaps back to give him access. 

“Good girl.” With one hand on the steering wheel and two eyes on the road, Ethan eases his free hand underneath the band of her underwear. 

His fingers slide between her smooth folds and stroke gently. “So soft,” he murmurs. 

It only takes a couple of up-and-down swipes for her to be primed and ready for more friction. 

Ethan moves his fingers in response to her whimpers and soft moans while remaining vigilant to their surroundings. In his peripheral vision, he can see that Sawyer’s eyes are closed, and she is focused only on his touch. He brings her to the edge several times but doesn’t let her finish, wanting to keep her distracted and relaxed for as long as possible. 

No longer able to endure the blissful torture, Sawyer begs for relief. “Ethan, please…”

She arches into his touch when he glides his middle and ring fingers into her entrance, then props herself up to ride his hand. 

Sensing the impending tide, she blindly reaches for the handle above the door again, a lifeline to keep from drowning.

Ethan quickly glances her way. Sawyer is panting heavily, her head tilted back, and her eyes still closed. She tightens around his fingers, and he knows she is right there. 

Returning his eyes to the road, Ethan inches the car forward. With each press of the gas pedal, his fingers pump into her. And with each pump of the brakes, the heel of his palm applies pressure to her swollen clit. 

When she shudders, Ethan turns his head to watch. 

Sawyer lifts her head and screams. “Ethan!” 

A flash of red washes over her face, but it isn’t from the flush of orgasmic bliss. It’s from the brake lights glowing on the car in front of them. 

“Stop!” she yells, bracing her hands for impact on the dashboard.

Ethan slams on the brakes, instinctively throwing his arm in front of Sawyer to protect her from harm. His luxury car stops just inches before rear-ending a modest Toyota.

A beat of silence passes as they both take deep, calming breaths, trying to recover from the scare.

"Holy shit!" Sawyer quietly gasps, her heart pumping so hard it's about to burst. 

“Are you okay?” Ethan looks her over with his foot firmly on the brake. 

"Yeah.” But her anxiety immediately returns once she has regained her bearings and assesses the traffic situation. 

With the car at another temporary standstill, Sawyer unclips her seatbelt, mumbling as she climbs over the center console and flops into the backseat. “Good driver, my ass. That was a terrible idea. Totally reckless."

She slumps behind the driver’s seat so Ethan’s broad shoulders block the view through the front windshield and meets his bewildered eyes in the rearview mirror. “I don’t want to break up with you, and I don’t want you to break up with me. Trust me, it’s better this way,” she explains.

Silently chuckling to himself, Ethan puts his blinker on. He maneuvers the car toward the right, forcing other vehicles to stop and let him over. 

Sawyer shrieks from the backseat when the truck driver he cuts in front of honks their horn and flips him off in frustration. “What are you doing?!” 

“Pulling over,” he answers composedly. Ethan turns at the next corner and parks next to the curb, away from the glow of the streetlights. “We’ll wait it out.”

“Why? The traffic was finally letting up.” 

Ethan sets the emergency brake and turns off the car engine. “If you think you can climb over this console, shove your gorgeous ass in my face, and expect me not to think about what happened the last time you did that…”

The rest of his words are drowned out by the downpour of rain and a loud crash of thunder outside as he exits the car.

“Since you’re more comfortable hiding back here…” Ethan says when he slides into the backseat a second later and tugs his wet shirt over his head.

Raking over his sculpted chest, she apologizes with a knowing smile. “Good call, waiting it out. I take back what I said earlier. You are a very safe and responsible driver.”

“But you prefer to be in control on the road, don’t you?” he shares his recent observation.

“Yeah,” she answers as he pulls her onto his lap. 

“Do you want to drive?”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“Can you drive a stick?” he asks, thrusting his hips upward.

Sawyer laughs, “I think you already know the answer to that question, sir.” She kisses his lips teasingly, then says, “Fasten your seatbelt, Ramsey. You’re in for a wild ride.” 

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone @rafasgirl23415

[peachhcs]

samy + will bonus timeline! ★ ☆

i’ve realized that i haven’t really explained the timeline of samy and will before they get closer in high school + usntdp years so here’s some bullet points of it (also bc i’ve never addressed the hughes growing up in toronto in this au so im gonna do it now lol)

au masterlist

the family moves to toronto a year after samy is born and are there for roughly 10 years (online says anywhere between like 8-11 so i’m choosing 10 as a median lol)

the smith’s visit every summer still or they will visit in boston!

quinn, jack, luke, and samy are all pretty locked into hockey for the first few years of their lives — playing together, competing against one another, playing in leagues, etc.

whenever will visits, he gets right along with them and that’s how will and samy learn most of their skills because of the older boys

it’s especially fun when the smith’s occasionally visit in the winter and will really gets to experience playing hockey in canada during the prime season with them

quinn heads back to the us for the usntdp and jack follows two years later

samy and luke are still in toronto with ellen and jim still playing hockey full time

when it’s luke’s turn for the usntdp, that’s when ellen and jim decide they should move to michigan since 3/4 of their kids are there — quinn’s playing for michigan, jack’s finishing the the usntdp and luke’s just starting

this is when samy begins wanting to try other spots outside of hockey since there isn’t a real women’s pro league and the whole move kind of makes her have a slight identity crisis at like 12

at her new school, her friends are really interested in soccer, so she decides to tryout to hang out with them more

when she makes the team her time gets split between soccer and hockey

obviously she still loves hockey because it’s what her family is built on and it’s in her blood — she’s literally so good at it because of her brothers teaching — but she’s starting to find a love for soccer too

she plays for two years in middle school really falling in love with it and becoming really good — and her parents support her in whatever she decides since that’s how they raised their kids that they don’t have to be bound to hockey if they don’t want to be

she plays up on varsity her freshman year of high school as a 14 year old with the 17 and 18 year olds which starts to prove to her how good she really is

in her sophomore year, she leads her high school team to the state championship and that’s when samy realizes she may have to make a decision when it comes down to it

hockey or soccer? it’s a lot to think about

ultimately, she chooses soccer because of all the opportunities it can bring her compared to hockey even though she makes it clear she will always love hockey and have a place in her heart for it

this brings us up to will moving to plymouth for the usntdp

luke’s finishing his final year there before heading to umich to start collegiate hockey

jack’s finally finding his footing in jersey with the devils

quinn’s moving up in his rankings and making a name for himself back in vancouver

and that brings us to the au timeline right now. i lowkey forgot the hughes family lived in toronto for a good while, so maybe i’ll try to incorporate that more into the au since samy has dual citizenship and considers herself canadian as well as american :)

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 1: Daria/Jane, Winter Break

Hmmmmm, well. A continuation of this.

Daria/Jane, ~700 words, 23 minutes

Sap, sap, sap.

*

The Pizza King is full of high schoolers--a prime example of how they have changed, even though the world, or at least Lawndale, has stayed the same--so they agree that next time, they'll find somewhere else to eat. Over mushrooms and jalapenos, they reminisce about when they were that age, as if they were ages older. They don't talk about how, the night before, they'd accidentally kissed or what that means, and maybe if they don't discuss it, that means it isn't important at all.

If this had happened with anyone else, Jane would be the first person she'd tell.

They spend the afternoon together, stopping by all of the old haunts, feeling old. She notices all the new ways that Jane touches her now, things she'd taken for granted in a new location and feeling like a new self: how often Jane grabs her arm or nudges their shoulders together or even sometimes takes Daria's hand and squeezes it, if she wants to get her attention.

By the time they're back in their own neighborhood, early winter-dusk is starting to fall. The grass is cracked with frost that never melted. Daria has her hands deep in her pockets, her fingers much too cold. Jane seems reluctant to go back to her own place, but still declines an invitation to dinner. "But I'll see you tomorrow," she says. It's not even a question.

When she leans in, she doesn't press a kiss to Daria's cheek, like she usually does, but aims right for her mouth and doesn't miss. Daria kisses back. But it's only a moment. Feels not unlike the other kisses did: like just something they do now, an extension of three and a half years of friendship, of whatever this bond is between them she's long stopped trying to name. The gesture is affectionate, warm. Jane smiles at her after, before she turns around and walks down the drive again.

The next day is frigid by Lawndale standards and the snow flurries look like something that might almost stick. They hang out in Jane's old bedroom because it's where her easel is. But the house feels different now--emptier--even some of Jane's art is gone from the walls, because she took her favorite stuff with her, and it's up in her dorm room in Boston making that place look like home.

They talk about the Trent situation and Daria watches Jane paint and doesn't pretend to do anything else, because it's winter break and she's tired and lazy and this is the only thing she wants to do in the world. When Jane hits a snag, needs a break, she lies down too, on the other side of the bed. They're face to face and staring at each other.

"Jesse would probably move up to Boston with him," Jane says, very quiet and serious, grinding down the unsaid into actual words. "Max would say he would, then chicken out. Nick won't leave his kid."

"So no more Mystik Spiral." It feels heady to say, like vertigo. "Or they could take the whole family."

"Nick and his kid and his ex?" Jane raises an eyebrow.

"Mass exodus."

"I guess anything's possible."

Or it's just the end of an era. Or change is good for people, sometimes.

Jane reaches out and tugs on the lapel of Daria's jacket, like she's trying to straighten it. She doesn't wear it as often up at school--sometimes, but she doesn't need it like she used to. Jane shifts a little closer, and Daria twists the cords hanging down from the hoodie of Jane's sweatshirt idly around her fingers. Her heart's pounding maybe a little too hard, but it's just Jane, so she knows the feeling in her chest isn't nerves.

Jane shifts closer then and somehow they end up curled together, Daria holding her, until fairly soon Jane has fallen asleep. This has happened before, more than once, up in Boston. A part of her wonders why it never happened when they were still in high school.

Daria leaves not long before dinner, and only because her parents are expecting her. At the door to Jane's room, they both linger a long moment; Daria is thinking idly about how their fingers are entwined. Jane's goodbye kiss is on the mouth again. Maybe it lingers. And afterward, she squeezes Daria's hand before she lets go.

[heretherebedork]

The Boston Nick stuff made me really sad. And not because I feel like I wants them to have more screen time or that I wanted Nick to date Dan. Both are true, but I’m mostly satisfied with their depiction in the finale.

They make me sad because it’s such a good example of two people really liking each other, but being fundamentally incompatible. I personally feel Boston making out with Boeing while on a date with Nick was a dick move, but it was the prime example of how they just can’t work together.

Boston can’t do monogamy, which is fine. But Nick also can’t deal with an open relationship as much as he tries to force himself to. It clearly deeply upsets him to see Boston with other people because for Nick, sex and relationships are intertwined.

And it’s so sad to watch how Boston clearly does really like Nick. He wants to do all those sweet boyfriend things with him. He wants to kiss him at midnight and brings him a present and tells him how cute he is. But Nick isn’t getting what he needs from their relationship.

Their needs are fundamentally incompatible, and the show doesn’t try to keep them together for the sake of a happy ending.

And like I actually teared up a little bc it’s sad :(

I wish that the show had explored that without turning it into shaming Boston for not being that at every turn.

Because, you're right, it's actually a beautiful exploration of what happens when you love someone and they love you but you love in such different ways that all your love does it hurt.

What does it mean to love someone you only hurt by loving them? How can you love each other when the very act of love asks you to be something you are not? Is it love? It is, you know you love him and he loves you but you can't do this, not even for him.

And it's beautiful.

Boston telling Nick directly that he views relationships and sex as two separate things and realizing over the course of the episode that Nick doesn't was heartbreaking for both of them and didn't need everyone shaming Boston for not being monogamous and telling Nick he could 'do better' when it's not about that. It's about different people loving differently and that's okay.

... I have a lot of feelings about this because it's important, damnit. Boston wasn't anywhere near the worst character in the show but he had the absolute worst ending including fake forgiveness from a friend and then being rejected by every single person he might have cared about.

And he didn't deserve that, no matter what the narrative tried to say.

[actual-changeling]

joel is hot. everyone knows. half the boston qz knew. most of jackson knows. and there is a lot of people that develop a crush on him and try to ask him out while completely unaware of the one big problem between them and joel: ellie.

the second she knows someone is trying to make a move on him (and it's like a fully developed sense at this point), she has a number of ways with increasing escalation to stop them.

first phase is simply getting joel away from them, which helps with the immediate danger of "fuck they're trying to ask him out" but does not solve the long-term motivation. it's easy enough, she has joel wrapped around her finger and a simple "joel i'm tried" will have him carry her home in his arms, so yeah, simple.

the second phase is what tommy ends up calling her "good girl act", and while tommy is a little bitch, he keeps his mouth shut because his brother's adopted daughter is giving him prime entertainment (and he's the fun uncle anyway). everyone knows ellie and joel are a package deal much to some people's annoyance, but it means most people try to win her over before actively pursuing joel. unfortunately for them, ellie is very, very good at finding out your weakness and then using it against you. a mean comment here, poking fun at someone there, implying joel is holding a grudge based on something she knows happened two weeks ago that he has absolutely no clue about, all with the shiniest smile and the sweetest voice. it deters most of them, and the effort is minimal. it's fun for her, really, and gives her a satisfying feeling of peace.

and then there are the handful of people that are just too fucking determined. joel is great, but he is hers, and she already begrudgingly shares him with tommy (though she is still considering just stabbing him in his sleep and calling it a day, but as it turns out he is actually a pretty fun guy despite it all and joel likes him).

they stonewall their way through her attempts at deterring them and get way closer to joel than anyone should, but her saving grace is also her biggest pride: joel has eyes for her and her only. hell, she doubts he even remotely picks up on people being genuinely kind to him let alone flirting with him, and if she isn't with him, he is thinking about her, rotating ellie in his head over and over until she's back at his side.

those people are the ones that get tripped in the dining hall and dead fish in their couch cushions, and ellie must look stabby enough for them to back off after that. (she would, in fact, stab them if necessary. her switchblade is a close second to joel in terms of affection).

ellie beats cupid to death in a corner while tommy cheers her on and joel is none the wiser, still thinking that most people are barely above tolerating him. he doesn't care, though, he has ellie. that's all he wants and all he will ever need.

(and if he eventually does catch on after a year or two and simply smiles and plays along, well, that's a nice secret to keep for a change)

[andydrysdalerogers]

Can I Count on Your Love? ~ Chris Evans

Pairings: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Summary: Its been a year since the events of "Can I Count on Your Vote?" and you and Chris have some adult fun. But others decide its time for you two to end and one photo could destroy you both...

Word Count: 6.8k

Song: Adore You by Harry Styles

Warnings: Smut! Angst! Language, jealous, Chris in political mode, P in V, committed relationship, oral (M and F receiving), car sex,

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone. This is a follow up to my other one shot which you can find here.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Politics is a cat and mouse game.  You are either chasing someone to bring them down or you are on the chopping block.  

Being the youngest senator made you the easy target, someone that the old guard hated for changing the status quo.  

Chris loved how ambitious, tenacious, strong, driven, and beautiful you were. You would both lay for hours in bed, talking about how you both would change the world. Chris had no aspirations to be in office, but you had the ultimate goal in mind: being the first female president.  Germany had done it, Great Britain has female prime ministers, so why couldn’t we do it here? 

It was especially significant as the press and other political analysts were predicting that you could be the one to pull it off.  The ASP chat helped launch your first bill about student debt in Congress, gaining the following of many around the country.  It was touted as the first major move toward a potential historical presidential run.  Chris said that ASP was doing even better because it was now being legitimized by everyone as a great source of verified information. That was his goal, to have a clean source of information for his fellow citizens.  

Speaking of Chris, it's been about a year since you had decided to make it official.  Well as official as it could be seen, it was still a secret to most of the world.  After the ASP Chat on tuition went viral, a lot of speculation was made on whether the two of you were together due to the intense chemistry seen in the interview. But your teams made sure you were never photographed together; rendezvous were made on the low.  Mostly it was you and Chris or your families hanging inside the gates of Chris’s house or your heavily secured apartment in either California or DC.  It was tough but you both made it work.  

Gearing up for the next session of Congress, you were reviewing your schedule with Steve, your assistant, when your receptionist, Ava, came in with a huge bouquet of roses.  There were at least three dozen in different shades of red, white and pink.  You smiled, knowing it was probably from Chris.  Ava sits them down in the corner of your desk.  “There’s a note, ma’am.” 

You plucked the little card with a smile as your team waited patiently.  

I know your secret.  

And a photo floated out of the envelope.  

Your smile froze and slowly morphed into fear.  “Steve, I need the head of my security detail. Now. Ava, I need Chris and Megan as well.”  They scurried from the room as you stared at the little card.  You tried to swallow, get your breathing to calm as you noticed you were beginning to hyperventilate.  The room began to tunnel as you tried to think of how anyone would know.  As the phone began to ring, the room wobbled slightly.  You could hear Ava say it was Chris, who was in town for ASP.  You picked it up. “Chris?” 

“Hey Baby.” When all he heard was a sob, he began to panic.  “Baby? YN? YN! Answer me.”  

“They saw us,” you whispered.  

And the room went black.  

A month prior… 

“Chris, stop!” You squealed as Chris’s hand drifted higher and higher up the skirt of your dress.  You had managed to have a private dinner at little Greek diner in Boston and Chris was driving you back to his house.  Well, he was driving and coping a feel up your dress.  He was horny, seeing you in his favorite little black dress and heels.  He loved that you didn’t wear a lot of makeup either, just that gorgeous red lip that set off your exquisite eyes.  Eyes that he saw the first time on stage in the California sun.  

“Baby, you can’t wear this dress and not expect me to keep my hands to myself,” Chris said as you batted his hands away.  

“You can wait until we get home and then I can let you know what’s underneath this dress,” you said with bite to your lower lip.  

Chris groaned as his cock twitched.  “Fuck me, sweetheart.  I don’t think I can make it.” He saw a darken alley and pulled over.  

“What do you think you are doing?” You looked around to see it was so dark you couldn’t see the trees or the road once Chris shut off the lights. Even your security team wasn’t in sight.  

“I need to feel you, beautiful.  I need to be inside you and I can't wait.”  He leaned over and kissed you hard, taking your breath away, distracting you from the fact he took off your seatbelt.  His hands, his large, gorgeous hands grip your waist and lower to your ass, lifting you and sliding you onto his lap.  You gasp as you feel how hard he is underneath you. He groans at how hot you feel over his erection. “Jesus, baby.”  

“Chris,” you moan as he begins to assault your neck, the brush of his beard rubbing your delicate skin just the right way.  

Chris raised his hands all the way up your skirt, his nimble fingers on his right finding your heat while his left continued upwards to your breast. He dipped his hand inside your panties to find you hot and wet for him. “Oh honey, all for me,” as he swirled your leaking juices around your lips, just brushing your clit and making you jolt.  

“All for you, my love,” you groan as he speeds up his motions, now tweaking your breast, hardening the nub as you begin to grind in his lap.  

“Fuck sweetheart, I need to have you,” he whispers in your ear. He pulls his hand from your heat, listening to you whimper from the loss of his fingers. He quickly undoes his belt and his fly as you continue fondling your own breast. He pulls down his jeans and boxers enough to release his long thick cock and pump a few times before he moves your now soaked panties aside and thrust up into your pussy.  

“Chris!” The stretch was incredible, the pleasure and pain mixing in a way that you had never felt before.  The primal way Chris just rutted up into you was so different but oh so good. He took a hold of your hips to guide you up and down his shaft hard.  

“Just like that baby, ride me hard.  Let me fuck you senseless,” he growled. It was rough, it was fast. It was everything.  The ribbons of pleasure started to ripple in your belly as your core began to grip his cock every time you moved.  He sat up a little bit more, changing the angle and he was there.  Hitting that spot inside that always made you see stars.  

“Baby, I can’t...” 

“Let go Senator,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me feel you.  Soak me, love.” He thrusted up hard as he pulled you down.  

“Chris!”  You scream as you blacked out from the immense pleasure. Your head tilted back as Chris pressed his face into your chest as he chased his own end.  He could barely move with how tight you had gotten with your own orgasm, and it was enough for him to swear loudly as he came inside you.  

It took a minute to come down, Chris kissing your shoulder, neck, forehead until he felt your body start to relax.  “Are you ok?” 

She smiled but flinched when he moved slightly. “I’m ok.  That was intense.”  

Chris frowned, worry overcoming.  “Did you not like...” 

“I loved it, Chris.  I like it rough and dirty sometimes.  Don’t worry baby.  I’m ok.”  You kissed his forehead to smooth out the worry lines on his face.  “Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to get back in my seat without making more of a mess.” You could feel the wetness that is getting ready to seep out.  

That got Chris to chuckle.  “Don’t worry baby.  Once we get home, the gates close and no one is the wiser.”  He kissed you softly this time.  “I love you.”  

“I love you.”  

You got back into your seat as Harry Styles's Adore You started to play as Chris started the car.  He took your hand and held it as he drove. He hummed along until he turned to you and sang... 

Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you 

Present... 

“Sweetheart? YN? Can you hear me?” 

It was the sweetest voice you knew.  The voice of the man you loved. It was the only soothing thing your senses could understand.  The rest was painful.  Your head was pounding, your body ached, the blood pounding in your ears.  After a moment, the soothing voice was now followed but gentle touches in your hair.  Finally, your throat felt like it would accept air and allow you to speak.  Your eyes fluttered and a groan escaped your mouth.  

“Baby? Are you with us?” 

The light was harsh in the room.  Your office.  Was your office always so bright? It took a couple of blinks of your eyes before you could focus and see Ava, Steve, Robert (your head of security) and Chris, who held your head in his lap.  “Hi?” 

“Hi. How are you feeling?” 

“Sore, a little confused. What happened?” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You fainted while on the phone with me.” He helped you sit up as Ava passed a glass of water.  “Baby, what happened?” 

You looked at the arrangement of roses and began to cry. “Someone sent me those with a note and a photo.” Robert went to the desk and saw everything on the floor.  His eyes widened as he looked back at you.  

“Miss YLN, I don’t...” 

“How did they get that Robert?  You told me we weren’t being followed.  We weren’t even seen.”  

Chris frowned. “Can I see that?” Robert handed the note and photo over.  Chris saw and sucked in his breath.  It was clearly a photo of you and him in the car from that night.  You were still in Chris’s lap as Chris held you by your neck, kissing you. “Holy fuck.”  

“What are we going to do Chris?”  

“I don’t know.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  He pulled out his phone and messaged Megan about an emergency meeting.  “We are going to meet at your house with Robert, Megan and your chief of staff and we are going to figure this out.”  

You nod, because it’s the sensible thing to do.  But your heart felt fear, your head was on the metaphorical chopping block.  

Later that night, both of your teams gathered in your dining room.  

Megan looked at the picture and sighed.  “Can one of you explain what happened?” 

Chris cleared his throat and explained the dinner and pulling over and just having a moment of unadulterated love between himself and you.  “We thought we were alone.  I mean, I didn’t even see her security team.  It was just one moment.”  

Rachel, your chief of staff, was taking notes and scoffed.  “Yeah, well, that one moment has the potential of going viral.  

“Can you even tell it's us?” Chris asked.  

Robert looked at the photo.  “It’s a blurry photo. It has deniability to it unless the photographer has cooperating evidence of who is in the car.  I’m going to sit down with the security team from that night and find out what happened.”  

“And I think that we shouldn’t do anything unless there is an obvious threat,” Rachel said.  I mean right now it’s someone saying they know but it doesn’t mean it’s someone from the other side.  I say we wait it out.  Jumping to action may be worse at this point.”  

“I agree.”  Megan looked at the photo. “Reaction would be bringing a spotlight to you two when it's not needed.”  

You didn’t realize you were trembling until Chris took your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.  “Baby, what do you think?”  When you didn’t answer, Chris placed his hand on your cheek to get you to focus on him. “YN, sweetheart, it's gonna be ok.  Do you think this is a good plan?” You looked into the ocean blues that comforted you so many times before.  They looked resolute in the decision, and you trusted that.  You nodded but still a single tear slipped.  “Honey, what is it?” 

“I’m scared,” you whispered.   

Chris’s heart dropped.  He didn’t want his girl to be scared, not his brave warrior girl. He sucked in a breath to steady himself before he said, “Don’t be. I’ll be right by your side.  Don’t you worry.” He kissed your forehead before he kissed your lips and kept his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing together as you both tried to keep calm.  

A few weeks later, everything seemed to be back to normal.  There were no more flowers, no other notes.  You and Chris talked every day, just as before.  You were on the phone with the governor of California when Rachel ran into the office.  Flustered would have been the nice word to use.  She looked like she had been tossed by a tornado.  “Sorry governor, I have to be on the floor in a few minutes.  Send my office the proposal and I’ll see what I can do to get this to the committee.  I think you're right; we need to beef up the national parks act, and it should start with Yosemite.  

“Thank you, Senator.  We’ll see you for the Lunar New Year celebrations?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.  Have a great day!”  You hung up and looked at Rachel.  “What’s going on?” 

“I’m so sorry Senator, it broke.” She handed over her tablet 

“What broke?” You took the tablet and focused on the screen.  And there it was, in full color was the photo.  With an amazing headline: 

DOES THE RISING STAR FRESHMEN SENATOR HAVE A SIDE JOB IN BOSTON? – IS THE HOT SHOT SENATOR FROM CALIFORNIA TRADING FAVORS FOR DONATIONS?  

You blanched as you scroll through the article.  It was still speculation that it was you but that it was clear from the photo that someone was caught in a compromising position inside of a car.  The news site was still looking for more information, but an anonymous source implicated the Senator from California as the woman in the photo.  

You could hear the office phones ringing as the screen blurred in your eyes.  You read the article title over and over, wishing it would change to anything else, anyone else.  Rachel could see you were starting to lose it as she was on the phone with someone.  

“I've got to get out of here,” you whispered.  It was like your body was now on automatic pilot. You stood up, grabbed your coat and bag and headed out the door. Your security team was trying to stop you, but you made it out the front door of your office to a barrage of flashes.  The press was already all over the scandal, shouting questions and taking pictures of what would be a rather stunned face.  Security from your office and the Capitol police surrounded you to allow you to walk to your waiting SUV.  Rachel had been right behind you, shouting no comment as you walked trance-like.  Robert had the door open for you and Rachel before climbing in the front and your usual driver, Edward, took off. 

“Senator? Senator, look at me.” You turned your face slowly towards her. “I am going to get you through this.  I’m trying to reach Chris or Megan to find out if it leaked from their camp.”  

All you could do was nod.  Four years of campaigning and working with other bi-partisan members was going down the drain as your phone kept pinging with more and more news outlets reporting the story.  It was the ultimate nightmare.  

The only solace was the security at your home.  Gate controlled, security had called the police to make sure the road was cleared, and cameras were everywhere. But it provided very little comfort.  All you wanted was Chris, but he was on set at the moment. Rachel was pacing, calling who she could to pull the story as you sat on your couch, leg bouncing, checking your phone every five minutes.  After two hours, a call came to Rachel.  

“Yeah.  Hi Stacy... Yes, we saw it...  No, we haven’t...  What do you mean?... That's not what he promised her... What does Megan... oh... well what is she... ok... I’ll tell her. Thanks.”  Rachel hung up and sat down next to you. “YNN, that was Stacy, Megan’s assistant at her firm.  Umm, she stated that Megan and she talked to Chris, and they aren’t going to be making a statement.  Since no one knew you two were in a relationship, there was no need to drag Chris into it.”  

“What?” You breathed.  “He... he promised to stand by me.”  

“I know sweetie but that’s what they have decided.”  

Your head spun.  You wouldn’t believe that Chris would do this. He didn’t even have the guts to tell you himself. You picked up your phone and sent him a message.  

YN: We just spoke to your management firm and know about your decision.  I thought we loved each other but I guess I was mistaken.  Don’t worry I won’t drag you into this.  Goodbye Chris.  

You went through your contacts and blocked his number. You did the same on your socials and put your phone down. “Rachel, what is the statement we want to put out?”  You put on your game face.  Your heartache and tears could come later.  

The next day, Rachel called a press conference in front of your office.  You chose to be yourself in a sharp black suit with a pink blouse and black heels.  It was your confident outfit, and you would need every ounce of it to make the statement you needed to make.  The makeup artist touched up your face and then it was time.  

“Good morning, let me first address the photo.  Yes, I did engage in some intimate acts with someone in a vehicle.  To protect their privacy, I will not be naming my partner ever.  Second, my security team is launching an investigation into the photo as we know it was not a member of the press who invaded my private moment.”  You took a breath, “I should have had better judgement in where I had my intimate relations at and used better judgement overall.  The blame for this is on me alone.  If my constituents are upset by my actions, I sincerely apologize.  I have strived to be an example to everyone and in this case, I wish I wasn’t.  The man I was with is no longer in my life and I would like to extend my apologies to him for this transgression.  I will be meeting with the chair of the Senate ethics committee for all punishments and/or reprimands that I have earned.  Thank you.  

You walked away from the media circus and back to the seclusion of your office.  As you sat, Rachel came to give you a hug.  Now you can mourn.  And you did just that.  

Chris’s POV 

The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time.  

Chris looked at his phone, heartbroken.  You had blocked him.  Chris watched the press conference playback with mixed emotions.  He was so proud of you for standing up and accepting responsibility, but he should have been by your side making his own statement.  He looked at the last message he received and called Megan. “What the hell, Megan! Why are we not standing next to her?”  

“Chris you are filming, and I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to you before her team advised us that she was going to make a statement.”  

“Who did they talk to?” 

Megan waited for a beat. “Stacy. Look Chris...” 

“Megan, I want her fired.  I told you she had been inappropriate with me multiple times and now this.  She wanted YN to break up with me because she thought I would go out with her.  I am in love with YN, and she just fucked that up!”  

“I know Chris, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.”  

“How?  She blocked me, she’s angry.  She...” he took a breath because his body was vibrating with pain, “she took that bullet for me all alone. Her entire career... she did that for me.”  

“Chris, we will fix it okay? Let me handle Stacy.”  

“I want to be there Megan. I want to see her face when I say that I am in love with YN. I need YN back, Megan.”  

“I know.  I’m sorry. I’ll make the arrangements.”   

Chris hung up and looked though the pictures on his phone. His perfect girl. Fuck, he was the one who pulled over, but she was the one taking the hit.  As he slid through the pictures, one floated by.  Her calendar. He sat up straighter and a plan came to his head.  

A couple of days later, Chris was back in Boston and sitting in Megan’s conference room.  Megan was sitting next to him, both in silence as they waited for the last member of their meeting to arrive.  Stacy walked in confidently, a sway in her hips as if she knew Chris would be there and finally ready to declare that he too was also “in feelings” with her. After all, they had softly flirted when he was in the office. They had coffee together. He liked her and this was her moment. She flicked her hair back as she sat across from them.  “You wanted to speak to me.”  

“Yeah, we had a question.  Who gave you the photo of YN in the car?” Megan asked.  

Stacy’s smile faltered slightly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“Did you know that all of your emails from your work computer are monitored?  Since that last hack, I had IT put in the monitoring service.”  

At that Stacy’s smile fell. “What?” 

“So, before we send this information to DCPD and congressional security, who gave you the photo?” 

Stacy blanched as she looked from Megan to Chris.  “Mike, one of the senator’s security guards gave it to me.”  

“Interesting.  And why did you give it to gossip mags?” 

“To break YN and Chris up.  She took what I wanted.” Chris scoffed as he stood up and walked to the door.  “Chris please! I’m sorry but I thought we had something!” 

“When?  During the scheduled meetings or when you were helping Megan on the red carpet.  I am in love with YN.  I hope she presses charges for the invasion of privacy.  Megan?” 

“Oh, right.  You’re fired, for cause.  You signed a non-disclosure agreement for our clients and their families which you violated the minute you sent the photo to the magazine.  Security is outside to escort you out.  Your personal belongings will be searched before they are mailed out to you.”  

“No, please...” 

“Have a good day Stacy,” as security walked in, and Chris and Megan walked out and headed to her office.  “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”  She headed to her sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Chris.  “Have you been able to get a hold of YN?” 

Chris shook his head.  “No, she’s blocked me from everything. I got in touch with Rachel, but she said that YN has a ‘no calls allowed’ for me with her team.” Chris took a swallow.  “Said YN has been crying a lot in her office.” 

“Oh Chris,” Megan frowned.  

“This is all my fault Megan. I pulled over and I convinced her.”  

“Chris, this wasn’t your fault.  You are still human.  You are still allowed to have fun.  You both weren’t expecting someone you both trusted to violate your privacy.  You have every right to be angry.  You have every right to be sad that your relationship was broken by jealous people.  But you cannot blame yourself.  We are going to fix this, and we are going to get your girl back. Are you ready to do anything to show her you love her?” 

Chris laughed.  “I would do anything to win her back.” 

Your POV 

It was a few weeks after “picture-gate” and you were getting ready for the Valentine’s Day charity event. An event where you were supposed to make your debut with Chris.  Who is now your ex. “Fuck me,” you mumble to yourself.  You look in the mirror, seeing a woman who kinda looks like you, if she didn’t have red-rimmed eyes, shallow looking cheeks and a sad look on her face.  It had been hell without him.  You never realized how much comfort Chris brought to you. How his strong arms held you close to his chest, his heartbeat your lullaby, his voice a song.  You missed him desperately, but he didn’t want to stand next to you.  It makes you question whether he lied about being with a strong woman.  

You shake yourself and inspect your dress. The theme was love, obviously, so you had chosen a red gown, strapless with a sweetheart neckline.  It was tight in the bodice until it hit your waist and then flowed out in layers of chiffon.  Heels and diamond studs completed the look with soft waves framing your face. You sighed, wishing he had been there to see it, the dress you picked with him in mind. But he would never be there, he wouldn't come back.  He made his choices.  

As you arrived at the gala, sans date, you thought back to the last few weeks.  The person who took the photo was found, Mike, and fired.  Mike had been one of your personal guards since you started.  Apparently, when questioned, he took the photo to create a scandal because he was obsessed with you and wanted Chris out of the way.  Mission accomplished, you guessed, but not in the way he wanted.  Charges were filed, restraining orders in place, a press release later, and the scandal died out.  Some of the old guards still avoided you but the party and your constituents stood by you.  They held support rallies and feminist movements.  You were a woman, yes, but you should have been treated like a man. It warmed your heart a bit in the days post Chris.  

Arriving alone, you walked the press line, dodging questions that wanted to bring back the scandal and headed into the venue.  Your date, who walked in alone as well was waiting.  As patient as ever for Rachel, who is never patient.  Dinner was lovely, the jazz band playing romantic tunes.  You mingled with other donors and attendees, making the most out of the evening.  Finally, the special, surprise guest performer was announced.  

The host of the evening introduced Grammy award winning artist Harry Styles to the stage.  You loved him and sang along.  It was quite the performance, Harry doing all of his hits.  You sway with the music, a glass of champagne keeping you warm.  As Harry ends, Watermelon Sugar, the crowd cheers. 

“How is everyone doing?” Harry asks and the crowd cheers in response. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Harry takes a breath.  “So, I got a call from a guy who wanted to let a girl know how much she means to her. See he messed up and asked me to help him tell his girl he adores her.  You don’t have to say anything honey, just know he would walk through fire for you and he’s sorry that you had to walk alone.  This song is for her.” 

You weren’t really paying attention; the words were beautiful, but you didn’t want to be a part of someone else’s declaration of love.  As Harry’s Adore You began to play, you felt a tear in your eye.  This was the last thing Chris had sung to you. 

 Walk in your rainbow paradise (paradise)  Strawberry lipstick state of mind (state of mind)  I get so lost inside your eyes  Would you believe it? 

You don't have to say you love me  You don't have to say nothing  You don't have to say you're mine 

Honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

You sway to the music, eyes closed, losing yourself to the music but the crowd starts to part as the spotlight follows a person across the floor.  As the last person parts, a gasp runs through the crowd, and you open your eyes. 

And Chris is there, in a black tux, holding a single red rose.  

You look around to see if he is looking at anyone else but no, it's you.  He walks over and takes the champagne glass from your hand.  “Chris...” 

“Not yet,” he whispers as he pulls you into his arms. He starts to move you across the dance floor.  

You're wonder under summer skies (summer skies)  Brown skin and lemon over ice  Would you believe it? 

You don't have to say you love me  I just wanna tell you somethin'  Lately you've been on my mind 

Honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

“Chris,” you whisper. “What are you doing?” 

“Shh.  Baby, just let me adore you.”  He spins you around and back taking a hold of you again, the only two people on the dance floor.  

I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  (Ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  Oh, honey  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you 

oh, honey  (Oh)  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

As the song finishes, he pulls you even closer so your foreheads touch as he sings the last of the lyrics to you.  You are trying everything not to sob in front of these people.  As the band slows, Chris pulls back slightly.  “I didn’t stand next to you.  And even though that wasn’t my decision, I still should have made a statement right away. You shouldn’t have done that alone and I am so sorry sweetheart.”  

“I just wanted to protect you, Chris.”  

“And I just wanted to stand behind my woman.”  He swallows, his nerves starting to show a bit. “I had something planned tonight.” He kisses your hand. “We have been together for a while, and it has been the time of my life. I have never been happier. Your dreams are my dreams, and your happiness is mine.  I never want to let go.  Because I adore you, I’d walk through fire for you.”  

He stepped back and knelt to the ground on one knee.  

You’re pretty sure you have stopped breathing at this point.  

“YNN, I love you so much.  And I want to spend the rest of my life with you and all our dreams. Can we take on the world together?” He popped open a little red box holding a stunning princess cut diamond solitaire. “Will you marry me?” 

Your face really doesn’t give anything away.  It is just a single tear that falls. Chris is starting to think this is a bad idea before he sees the smallest nod, before the biggest smile he has ever seen.  It was bigger than when you won your election. “Yes! Yes, Chris yes!”  You fall into his arms just as he’s standing. The crowd cheers as he swings you around.  

After a moment, he sat you down and took out the ring to slide it onto your finger. You look at it before you look back at your fiancé. He cups your face before he kisses you gently.  

And you’re home.  

The rest of the night was a blur.  The only thing that stood out was the call to your parents.  Chris had visited them before flying out to the gala.  He sat with your father and explained everything.  Your dad was satisfied that his little girl was in good hands and gave his blessing.  As you walked out of the venue, the press was relentless in asking about your and Chris’s relationship. Rachel and your security team keep them at bay as Chris keeps his arm around you, your head resting against his chest.  He got you into the car and Robert drove you away. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

“I am so sorry, baby,” Chris pulls so you are seated in his lap, letting you bury your face into his neck. “Mike, he gave the picture to Stacy. She never told us anything about talking to you until it was too late.” He nuzzled into your hair. “I wanted to be here.” He kisses your head.  “I never wanted you to do that alone.”  

“I shouldn’t have... I should have...” 

“Shh, baby, you had no reason to not believe Stacy.  I wish you had waited but I still should have made my own statement.” He sighed as he leaned back on the seat and tightened his grip on you.  “But that’s the past.  You are my future.”  

“I can’t believe you proposed.” You stare down at the diamond on your hand.  “How did you know?” 

“Know what?” 

“Well, is that the ring I wanted or that I would say yes?” 

He chuckled.  “Honey, you don’t think I didn’t noticed when you would ‘airdrop’ hints to my phone when I wasn’t paying attention or when we would see jewelry on vacation?” He picked up your hand and played with the ring.  “You are never flashy or over the top, but you always sparkle.  So, when I went with my sisters and ma shopping, we saw this one and it just said ‘YN.’” 

The tears started to well in your eyes again. He really did know you.  

“Oh honey, don’t cry.” He cupped your face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears.  

“I’m sorry, just,” you sniff, “it's been so hard without you.  And I, I just can’t believe you got Harry Styles to dedicate a song to me, to us.  The last time I heard it...” you trail off.  

Chris’s face softened. “Was the last time we were together.  I remember.” You pulled up to your townhome, and Chris climbed out, holding out his hand for you. As you walked to the door, he whispered in your ear, “I remember that I owed you a better time as well.”  He opened the door and you gasped. 

Candles, roses, and champagne were waiting for you in your living room.  A gentle fire was on in the fireplace, with pillows and blankets laid out on the floor.  As you took it in, Chris stood behind you, kissing your neck and shoulders.  “I don’t think I told you how beautiful you looked in this dress.” You moan as he trails his fingers over the top of your dress.  He nipped at that spot on your neck as he pulled the zipper down, his thick finger trailing down your spine.  

“Chris,” you whimper as goosebumps bloom on your skin, his wet, open mouth kisses setting every nerve on fire.  

“I want to worship you, my fiancé,” he growled as he let the dress drop, showing him the red lace strapless bra and matching panties and garter belt, you had on. “Fuck me, is this new?” 

“I bought it for you, and I never got the chance to wear it for you,” you replied, blushing.  

“You are perfection, my love.”  He sat in the chair.  “Twirl for me.” Still in your heel clad feet, you stood in front of him, just out of his reach and did a slow spin. He growled at your teasing as he reached for you, and you stepped back. “What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Evans?” 

“Who said anything about changing my name?” You giggled as his gaze darkened a little.  “I’m a little exposed baby.  That jacket and shirt needs to come off.”  

Chris stood but never took his eyes off of you as he discarded his jacket, tie and shirt, leaving him in just his suit, pants and shoes.  “What now, Senator?” 

“Sit,” you ordered, and he followed your direction quickly.  You grabbed a pillow and kneeled in front of him, sliding your hands up his legs.  He shuddered at your touch, leaning his head back as you undid his pants.  You tapped his hip so he could raise them, and you pulled down his pants and boxer briefs so his cock could spring out. You wrapped your hand the best you could around the base and pumped, getting his attention back on you.  You looked him straight in the eye as you licked the tip that had a bead of precome on it.  

“Fuck, YN,” he mumbled as you took the entire head in your mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You worked him, softly at first and then harder, slowing down again, much to Chris’s frustration. As you took him to the back of your throat again, you felt him twitch and suddenly you were on your back on the floor as Chris settled in between your legs. He got your bra off first, then the garter, nipping at your skin the entire time.  

“Baby, I...” You really didn’t know what you were trying to say.  Your brain was overloaded with the sensations on your skin. Chris was everywhere, everywhere, all at once and it caused the pressure to build.  Finally, it was just your panties and heels, but Chris made no move to remove either.  He ran his nose up and down your covered pussy, grazing your clit and getting what he wanted: a wanton moan from your mouth.  

“I love that sound, love.” Chris grasped the sides of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs and over the heels.  “I want these hooked around my ears,” he said.  “But for now,” he spread your legs wide, “they can hold you open.”  He kissed right on your mound and then dove in with his tongue, eating like a man starved.  His hands held your thighs open, not allowing you to find some sort of relief until he could feel you tremble.  “Are you close, gorgeous?” 

“I’m gonna cum, Chris, please!” 

“Cum, YN! Let me drink you in!”  His dirty talk always got to you, and it was enough for you to let go, a silent scream coming from your mouth as the world went dark. Chris didn’t stop, making it last longer.  He finally slowed and began to kiss up your body.  His cock was throbbing, needing to find its own release but he wouldn’t stop until he was buried in you.  Finally, he was on top, brushing a strand of hair away, looking down at his future wife, the future mother of his children. He teased your entrance before slowly pushing in. “Are you still...” 

“Never stopped,” you replied breathlessly, answering his unasked question about birth control. He bottomed out and you both groaned in relief to be reunited again.  He fits perfectly, molded inside of you.  

“God, still tight and warm, like I never left.” Chris pulled out slowly before slamming into you.  You cried out with each thrust, finally getting the relief you missed.  It was slow and torturous but oh, so good.  

“Chris, fuck, harder, please!” 

“Oh baby,” he cooed.  “We have all night.”  He sped up his hips to hit your spot inside over and over, but he felt you tighten, gripping him so hard it was becoming hard to move. “Let go baby.  Give it to me again. God, this pussy was made for me, gripping me, strangling my cock.  Milk me, my fiancé, cum now!” That was it; you cummed hard around him, triggering his own release, “Fuck YES!” 

He finally slowed down but never pulled out.  He rolled you over, so you were laid out on top of him, and he wrapped a blanket around you both.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day Senator.”  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, future husband.”  

The morning headlines were everything Rachel wanted and more.  An election to gear up for and a fairytale wedding for the future President and Hollywood’s leading man.  

WITNESSING A FAIRYTALE: DC’S GOLDEN GIRL AND HOLLYWOOD’S GUY NEXT DOOR CONFIRM RELATIONSHIP WITH A PROPOSAL! 

A/N: I wish this was America’s next royal family of politics. LOL. 

Taglist:

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @tinkerbelle67

[maybe-boys-do-love]

So related to the news about Thailand today, I want to detail a thing i noticed when writing a longer piece about Boston on Only Friends, because I think especially watching as foreigners, we can forget or ignore some really cool subtextual commentary that's happening in the QL shows we're watching.

We learn a couple episodes in that Boston's dad is running for office. When we first meet Boston's dad, Nick is working on his campaign flyer, which reads among other slogans, "Give me a chance to improve." (Thanks to @thaisongsengsub for the translation). Boston enters the scene wearing a graphic tee that says 1998. In 1998, the Thai Rak Thai party was founded in Thailand by Thaksin Shinawatra, who would become the first democratically elected prime minister of Thailand to serve a full term in 2001. According to the Guardian article where much of my info's coming from, he "introduced a universal healthcare scheme, village funds to stimulate growth, as well as policies to boost entrepreneurship and help the country recover from the Asian financial crisis. He also presided over the repayment of the debt Thailand owed to the IMF ahead of schedule."

In 2006 Thaksin Shinawatra was deposed by a military coup and his party was outlawed. Only Friends spoiler alert: Just as Boston lives in exile from his friend group and from Thailand by the series' end, Shinawatra would live in self-imposed exile beginning in 2008 and lasting fifteen years to avoid legal charges. Interestingly the former prime minister returned for the first time the same month that Only Friends premiered, August of 2023 (upon his return he was promptly put into custody).

A new incarnation of this populist neoliberal party formed after the dissolution of Thai Rak Thai, the People's Power Party, followed by Pheu Thai Party when the PPP was dissolved. Shinawatra's younger sister, Yingluck Sinawatra, would take on leadership of the party and become the Thailands first female prime minister from 2011-2014, when her tenure was also ended by the courts and a military coup from which she fled to exile. The party is currently being run by Shinawatra's daughter, Paetongtarn Shinawatra.

The Move Forward Party, a more progressive Thai party, that was dissolved by the courts yesterday had previously been part of a coalition in Parliament with the Pheu Thai Party but decided to not vote for its candidate for Prime Minister after the PTP decided to include more conservative parties that supported the military junta in its coalition also in August of 2023 (you know, the period Only Friends was being written), as reported by Bangkok Post. All this is to say that there were a lot of politics in Thailand happening around the time of Only Friends.

For those willing to observe Jane Austen's "fine brush strokes" that she uses to offer portraits of romance, you'll find observations that would've otherwise been censored on slavery, the military, estate law, and most obviously, marriage law and female citizenship. Thai BL series don't have to be as explicit as Not Me to comment on political affairs. In fact, because of the political situation some of their commentaries require a deft touch like the one we see in Only Friends. I don't want to say exactly how I think Only Friends interprets the political situation it hints at here. Hopefully you can at least see that this idea of improvement, inclusion, and exile is as tied to the concept of friendship on Only Friends as it is to Thai politics. I only want to recommend that you watch for how QLs address class, political actors, geopolitics, and condemnation more broadly because to my eyes, they are doing some of the most subtle but radical commentary happening in any contemporary media, which I won't say makes them better or worse, but goddamn does it make them interesting.

[tailschannel]

Here's a complete recap of everything featured in this year's Sonic Central presentation

New collaborations with LEGO, an upcoming Sonic Frontiers DLC update, and a first look at Part 2 of Sonic Prime were among the major highlights in this year's Sonic Central presentation.

Here's everything you need to know.

Sonic Frontiers

Details on the second major content update for Sonic Frontiers was revealed in the Sonic Central. Titled "Sonic's Birthday Bash", it's scheduled for a release on 23 June 2023.

Sonic's Birthday: Celebrate Sonic's birthday in Sonic Frontiers with a new birthday theme, including a festive HUD, environment objects, a new birthday skin, and more!

Open Zone Challenges: Explore the Open Zone with all new challanges scattered throughout.

Spindash: The iconic Sonic move makes a return in Sonic Frontiers!

New Kocos: Some Kocos seem to dawn new outfits and some do seem a bit bigger than usual.

New Game Plus.

Sonic Superstars

A new teaser was shown promoting the new Sonic Superstars and LEGO collaboration, featuring LEGO Eggman as a pre-order bonus.

Following the presentation, SEGA dropped new renders and descriptions for all the characters featured in the upcoming game.

Trip: Not much is known yet about Trip, the mysterious girl first encountered by Fang on the Northstar Islands. While a bit clumsy, Trip is heavily armored and has been enlisted by Fang and Dr. Eggman to protect and guide them around the wonders of this uncharted region.

Fang the Hunter (formerly Fang the Sniper): Fang is a springy jerboa that is light on his feet and is always looking for the next big score. A bounty hunter by trade, Fang the Hunter has been known by many different names over the years, likely due to his “WANTED” status with the authorities. Always trying to stay one step ahead, he’s constantly modifying and upgrading his primary mode of transportation, the Marvelous Queen.

You can check out the rest of the descriptions for Sonic, Amy, Tails, Knuckles and Eggman here.

The official Sonic the Hedgehog YouTube channel also uploaded a new 3-minute video featuring Superstars producer Naoto Ohshima and Sonic Studio creative officer Takashi Iizuka.

They "talk in-depth about Superstars, including inspirations, challenges, and what it's like to create a new character."

Sonic Symphony World Tour

Here are the official tour dates for the Sonic Symphony from 2023 to 2024:

Sept 16, 2023 - London, Barbican Hall

Sept 22, 2023 - Paris, Le Grand Rex

Sept 30, 2023 - Los Angeles, Dolby Theatre

Oct 14-15, 2023 - São Paulo, Brasil Game Show

Oct 21, 2023 - Boston, Emerson Colonial Theatre

Oct 28, 2023 - Chicago, Auditorium Theatre

Nov 17, 2023 - Düsseldorf, Mitsubishi Electric Halle

Dec 15, 2023 - San Antonio, Majestic Theatre

Dec 29, 2023 - Atlanta, Cobb Energy P.A.C.

Jan 05, 2024 - Seattle, Paramount Theatre

Jan 06, 2024 - San Francisco, Davies Symphony Hall

Jan 20, 2024 - Washington DC, Warner Theater

Jan 27, 2024 - Kansas City, Kansas City Music Hall

Feb 11, 2024 - Tokyo, LINE CUBE SHIBUYA

Feb 17, 2024 - Toronto, Meridian Hall

Mar 24, 2024 - Montreal, Wilfrid-Pelletier Theater

Mar 29, 2024 - Portland, Schnitzer Auditorium

For more information such as ticket pricing and availability, check out the above links.

Sonic Prime

A new extended clip of the upcoming second content drop of Sonic Prime was previewed. It's scheduled to make its debut on Netflix in 13 July.

With the help of his ragtag group of Shatterverse allies, Sonic battles the Chaos Council for control of the powerful Paradox Prism, one Shard at a time.

Sonic Dash and Speed Battle

A new Classic Super Sonic skin will be joining SEGA HARDlight's flagship titles Speed Battle and Dash soon.

Other things of note, as reported last week:

To coincide with the release of the 2nd season of Sonic Prime, characters from Prime will be playable in Dash, including Boscage Sonic, Rusty Rose, and Tails Nine.

Alongside the Prime characters, Super Silver and an all new Dragon Hunter Lancelot will make their debut in Dash and Speed Battle later this month.

San Diego Comic-Con 2023

With Comic-Con coming this summer, a new pop-up restaurant featuring the blue blur will open near the show floor.

More details will be announced in the weeks ahead.

Merchandise

New Death Egg Set from Jakks Pacific: Based on the Sonic 4 Episode 2 final boss, fight The Egg Heart in the new Death Egg set.

Streetwear brand Hypland announced their collaboration with Sonic the Hedgehog: The limited edition collection features an assortment of graphic tees and hoodies featuring Sonic and his friends meshed into contemporary streetwear designs.

S-Fire Sonic Statue: Pre-order the new Sonic & Shadow statue today with augmented reality compatibility.

Sonic has officially announced a collaboration with the popular shoe brand Crocs. As reported back in late May: it's available in adult and kids sizes, for $49.99 USD and $44.99 USD respectively. Besides the shoes themselves, Crocs will be offering Jibbitz charms. They will be coming in a pack of 5 with Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, and Shadow, offered at $19.99 USD.

Other things of note: a Sonic-themed Playmate cooler from Igloo, a themed guitar from ESP Guitars, and Sonic and Shadow Cable Guy figures.

Sonic Origins Plus

With Origins Plus out, SEGA released a new launch trailer.

With more content than ever before, and a new premium physical version, Sonic Origins Plus is the definitive way to play 16 classic Sonic games in one timeless collection.

LEGO

SEGA officially previewed the Death Egg Robot set, now scheduled for a release in August.

As reported via a leak earlier this month, it contains a Sonic mini figure accompanied with his speed sphere mechanism and the launcher to it; and the Death Egg Robot piloted by Eggman, and Cubot.

Samba de Amigo: Party Central

As reported, the upcoming Samba De Amigo: Party Central will be featuring the world's famous hedgehog as a guest character.

The game will feature two iconic Sonic tunes, Escape From the City and Fist Bump, alongside the City Escape stage itself.

IDW Sonic the Hedgehog

Today's Central presentation made a brief mention of IDW Publishing's upcoming one-shot issue for the Sonic the Hedgehog comic book series: Amy Rose's 30th Anniversary.

You can read more details in our report from earlier today.

Sonic Speed Simulator

Despite the developer's controversies, the officially-licenced Speed Simulator got a mention in the Central presentation.

Users can celebrate Sonic's birthday in style with the new Tuxedo Classic Sonic skin, out now.

Lastly...

TailsTube got a shoutout, and voice actor Mike Pollock dropped some fire bars in the LEGO collaboration video.

...and that's all! For news and updates anytime, be sure to follow @TailsChannel where you are on social media.

(Files contributed by the Tails' Channel Newsfeed.)

[beardedmrbean]

Springfield, Ohio, was thrust into the national spotlight this election cycle due to the vast number of Haitian migrants who had settled in the town over the last few years, but some of those migrants have already packed their bags and left in the wake of President-elect Trump’s sweeping win.

The town, which according to the 2020 census has under 60,000 residents, has struggled to cater to a population boom between 15,000 to 20,000 Haitian migrants following decades of population decline. Residents have complained that the uncontrolled influx has drained resources and services, made the town less safe, driven up rents and caused longer wait times for medical and social services.

Locals have especially expressed frustrations over road safety, arguing that immigrants who have no to little experience driving in their home countries have been allowed to take to the streets with ease, causing a dangerous situation on the roads.

Many of those migrants had settled in the community having attained the ability to live and work in the U.S. for a limited time thanks to temporary protected status (TPS) but President-elect Trump signaled on the campaign trail he would yank such permits, striking fear into the migrants, some of whom have already fled the town ahead of Trump’s return to office. 

"People are leaving," Margery Koveleski, of the Haitian Community Alliance (HCA), tells the Guardian.

"Some folks don’t have credit cards or access to the internet, and they want to buy a bus ticket or a plane ticket, so we help them book a flight."

Jacob Payen, a co-founder of the HCA who also runs a business that includes helping Haitians in Springfield to file tax returns, also told the publication that migrants have been leaving.

"People are fully aware of the election result, and that is why they are leaving; they are afraid of a mass deportation," Payen said. 

"Several of my customers have left. One guy with his family went to New Jersey; others have gone to Boston. I know three families that have gone to Canada."

Some of the Haitian migrants are thought to have moved to nearby cities such as Dayton, where they believe they would be less visible to law enforcement, while others who had temporary asylum in Brazil are considering going back to the South American country, per the Guardian, citing community leaders.

Migrants have been fleeing their home nation since it was plunged into a political crisis in 2018 with protests sweeping the island it shares with the Dominican Republic. Gang violence has exploded in the country and a transitionary council removed Haitian Prime Minister Garry Conille from office earlier this month, replacing him in the role after just six months.

Springfield became a flashpoint in the presidential election when both President-elect Trump and Vice-President elect JD Vance claimed that Haitian migrants were eating pets there.  

"They're eating the dogs, the people that came in, they're eating the cats," Trump said on the debate stage against Vice-President Harris. "They're eating the pets of the people that live there, and this is what's happening in our country, and it's a shame."

Trump has also vowed to carry out the largest deportation operation in the history of the U.S. and has appointed hardliner South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem to serve as secretary of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) while Tom Homan will be the new "Border Czar." 

The DHS oversees U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the U.S. Secret Service and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). Noem will also oversee TPS and has deployed the state National Guard to the southern border several times in recent years.

Payen believes that droves of Haitian migrants leaving the town will have a detrimental impact on the local economy and in other states. 

The Guardian reports that the Haitian migrants filled thousands of jobs at area packaging and auto plants, which have helped rejuvenate the area, while Haitian restaurants regularly source food from other states.

"I pay thousands of dollars in income and property taxes every year," Payen told the outlet. "And – because I work with Haitians to file their taxes – I see their W-2s and so on. If these people leave, that money is gone from the city and the local economy."

[lockes-woods]

Meet Ash Williams

They are a 5'8" 28 yo omega prime (They/Them). They identify as non-binary and are usually wearing loose clothing and binding to hide their natural curves. Their eyes are copper; mainly cuz I think it's cute that Mihawk has golden eyes and I had already made Shanks' eyes silver in the first chapter. Their soulmate mark are twin roses behind their ears. While their hair looks black most of the time it does gleam a rich red mahogany in the sunlight. The sides of their head is shaved; their quiff is long enough to pull back into a bun in business settings. They work as a translator; they are fluent in English and French and are near fluent in German. They are family-focused. Their need to be closer to their family drove their coast-to-coast move. They have two older brothers Grey and Hunter who are Alpha twins that live in Boston, and they have a younger brother named Benjamin (Benji for short) an Alpha Prime who lives in NYC. Their found family consists of their packmate Belle-mere and her two children Nojiko and Nami (Ash's godchildren.)

This is just a quick overview; I'm really looking forward to fleshing them out as the story progresses 💛

MASTERLIST

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork and The Peter Tork Project, early 1980s; photos by Michael Ventura/Alamy.

“Eventually, Tork moved to New York City, working odd jobs and performing ‘sporadically.’ In the early ‘80s, after he quit drinking, he started a couple of bands, Peter Tork and the New Monks, and the heavy-metal-leaning Peter Tork Project. But Tork says that heavy drinking had ‘left me with mediocre skills. Until I started working on my skills again, it didn’t matter.’” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992

“In June of 1982, Peter Tork was in my face again. It was at a gritty, downscale, but packed-to-the-gills club in Boston called Bunratty’s. (Long gone.) Tork, then 40, was on a tour he described as the ‘I Have to Laugh to Keep from Crying Tour.’ It was billed as Peter Tork and the New Monks – Tork plus four crack musicians providing a hard-rock ride down memory lane. We talked a bit between sets. Me: ‘What it’s like going through life and to always be viewed as a former Monkee?’ Tork: ‘Compared to what?’ I paused for a moment and thought to myself, ‘Exactly! When this is the life you’ve known, what can you compare it to?’ (This was one of the best answers I’d ever had to one of my queries.) I re-used this anecdote when I talked to Ringo years later – switching up Monkees for Beatles in his case – and he chuckled. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘What can you compare it to? This is where I am and this is what I am.’ So, why were we Bostonians packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the post-punk heyday to hear ‘60s pop done live and loud? ‘A lot of people come out and they want to remember the old songs,’ Tork said. ‘They want to drift back to when they were fetuses or however old they were then.’ [...] ‘When I arrive at the gates of St. Peter,’ Tork quipped, ‘he’s going to say First one to go . . . okay, we’ll let you in.’ One Peter to another. ‘When I quit the Monkees,’ Tork continued, ‘the first thing I wanted to do was divorce myself from the whole thing entirely.’ Tork formed a ‘straight- ahead pop rock’ band, Peter Tork and/or Release, but it failed to go anywhere. In late 1971 and early 1972 Tork spent three months in jail for possession of hashish. Tork, who was a folk musician prior to Monkee-dom, resurfaced in 1977 to play an acoustic gig at CBGB’s, at the time New York’s prime punk club. In a sense, punk was responsible for bringing Tork back to work. The Sex Pistols did a vicious sloppy cover of ‘Steppin’ Stone,’ and other punk new wave bands have embraced the Monkees on two levels: 1) damn good pop tunes and, 2) potential kitsch value. Tork, who was married and living in Venice, Calif., was on a tour playing small U.S. clubs. (Dolenz and Jones, incidentally, had also formed Monkees facsimiles at that time and were rumored still to be big stars in Japan.) Tork has been around the area all week – he was playing an even dive-ier club in nearby Somerville the next night – unveiling a repertoire that consisted of some Monkees tunes, some non-Monkees originals, and some early rock ‘n’ roll covers. He wasn’t exactly playing the Monkees’ songs by the (Boyce & Hart) book. I’d venture to say this was almost hard rock/heavy metal Monkees music. ‘The [Monkees] records are a little thin by contemporary standards,’ Tork said. ‘People who are just into rock ‘n’ roll and had a lot of contempt for the Monkees phenomenon as a whole aren’t going to come in the first place. People who are on the borderline – they liked the Monkees and they like rock ‘n’ roll today – are going to come. If I play it like it was off the records, they’re going to say ‘Well, it was nice to see him but so what?’ If I play ’em right and they want to dance, I’ve got good musicians whacking away and they’re going to come back.” Tork’s musicians – Phil Simon and Nelson Bogart, guitars; Vince Barranco, drums; and Paul Ill, bass – have played variously with Little Feat, Dave Brubeck, Joe Beck and Carolyne Mas. [...] Although not signed to a label, Tork said producer Jimmy Miller (Rolling Stones, Traffic) was ready to record an album with them. (Jimmy Miller, who lived in our region, was had made maybe the greatest Stones album ever in Exile on Main St., but was drug-damaged goods by that point, sad to say.) ‘My goals right now are to make a living entertaining,’ Tork said. ‘Put away something for my old age, cookouts on the weekend, no big thing. You never know what’s going to happen. One of these days I might make a mark on my own.’”- Rock and Roll Globe, February 2022