#so for my purposes i gave an extra 4k

[simgerale]

A tear-stained paper reads, "…left you her dog Tuna and a hefty sum of 24,000 simoleons to “travel the world and create human memories.” Strange phrasing, but please contact…

[felikatze]

Plusquam Chapter 7 director's commentary because i adore being a blabbermouth

hi hi hello. i am going to talk about my fic and nobody can stop me but i don't want to turn the ao3 author's notes into their own 30k novel so yelling on tumblr it is!!

if you are interested in SOME of the machenations of my enigmatic mind, feel free to read. If not. Well i don't care really it's your life. I'm writing this for MY enjoyment.

First of!! I dunno if I talked about them before!! (I have the memory of a goldfish). The silly codenames!!

As I may or may not have mentioned before, the inspiration for this came from the Project Thabes mod for Awakening. In the ferox duel, the mod replaces the generics with inigo, severa, owain, and gerome. The awakening trio get their fates names (a coward's move, but one i understand), but gerome is named michalis, which i just enjoy soooo much???

so when i initially planned out for all the future kids to band together with lucina, i decided they all had to have codenames! otherwise there's really no point in lucina having one....

merric for laurent was the biggest no brainer of all of them, with caeda for severa being a close second. feel free to interpret why. gerome was obviously taken from the thabes mod, and the rest were... a challenge... to come up with!

owain actually gave me a lot of trouble. what WOULD he name himself? i've not finished shadow dragon myself (I only played the prologue so far... haha...), and most i know of the cast comes from mitosis. and scarf's new mystery lunatic reverse run on youtube. and it was that run that reminded me. that kris's confect is an item in the game. meaning that awakening era people know kris exists. except wasn't kris' deal that they like. did not want to be noted down in history.

hence kris being a "heavily debated historical subject". which of COURSE owain would name himself after an unsung but vitally important hero of the shadows.

others i may discuss as they come up? eh, we'll see. not every future kid is gonna be important (god knows that's way too many characters for me to handle), but they will be There. main focus of course being the fp3 squad, with the addition of two others. it is very obvious who it will be, i think.

next up, pairings!

most pairings werent set, outside the ones that are my obvious favorites (panne/lonqu, henlivia, chrobin (duh)). others were up in the air and just happened as i wrote. as i thought about gerome in this, and chatted about the subject with friends, frederick/cherche came to be for this fic! (and for the shrek au, oddly enough. it may have just been on my mind, and i thought chrom missing freddie's wedding was funny.)

it suited my purposes best if gerome had a stronger emotional tie to the blueberry siblings, and a knightly duty to protect them served just that. hence the dialogue of lucina being his liege. he's so utterly disinterested in getting to know the people of the past that i needed that extra bit to keep him coherent. he won't get close to anyone, but he'll do anything to support lucina's aims as though they were his own.

which brings me to the next subject, lucina's PoV! This is the first perspective switch in all of plusquam (not just because I couldn't meet my 4k benchmark with morgan alone this time). Since Morgan and Lucina act separately and won't encounter often, I needed the extra time to establish her character here. To me, there's a clear dissonance between how Morgan views her and how Lucina is. Both of them are unreliable narrators to varying degrees, yet how they differ is where the meat is.

Like, for example, Morgan completely rejecting that Lucina is Robin's child as well, and not just Chrom's, because Grima told them Lucina was different. As compared to the actual Lucina still deeply affected by Robin, and even engaging with grimleal theology on an even field because of him and the other plegian influences in her life.

there's also the matter of her narration style. I waffled back and forth on whether to give her second person narration as well, but ultimately decided on third person limited, with a catch - she exclusively refers to everyone, including herself, by their codenames.

in both their perspectives, i want to create separation between their original names and who they act as. With morgan, this succeeds because the viewpoint has no need to mention their name whatsoever, and with lucina, it succeeds because she's the one creating that distance in her own mind. it's fun to play with!

ah, siblings. so different, yet so similar.

as for the pronouns situation on lucina's pov. well. schrödinger's transgender.

minor thing. i hate adapting canon scenes close to script, hence me just freestyling when lucina and co meet chrom and squad. there's also just... no future portal risen roaming about, which would've made the point moot anyway. that's a very interesting consequence to play with.

having an endless army of generic undead is lame. having to draw on the actual dead of the immediate area - now we're getting spicy!

despite everything, i have grown attached to the risen wyvern and its chittering ways, but it sadly has to go. there's a reason morgan never named it. farewell my sweet prince. aurgh. i mean. this thing has been with morgan through the entire past so far. and it just fell apart more and more over time. crashing into a wall and breaking its neck, having half its throat torn out - poor thing. good thing it can't feel pain anymore.

that is, i think, all i wanted to blabber about? if you're a reader of plusquam, hi, i love you, i hope you have a great day, you may summon me for one turn of battle without expending an action and i will appear as a shimmering blue specter to protect you from harm.

that's all!! see you next time!! as usual, if anyone has questions of their own, or wants to yell at me for hurting their feelings, shoot me an ask, a comment, or anything at all! see ya!! ily!!

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[alwaysmychoices]

Not the End

Synopsis: With only 24 hours left for Charlie to decide if she wants a relationship with Ethan, Charlie and Ethan try to distract themselves from the weight of her decision. But what if Charlie can’t decide? And what if they lose each other?

Chapter 10 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 4k+

Rating: Teen 

Charlie waited for an epiphany, a sign, or a clue.

She looked in every passing face for an answer, but she avoided her own reflection. She spent the night agonizing over Ethan’s proposition, begging herself to fall asleep to see if her dreams would provide a hint. When the sun rose, she retreated to the safety and security of her morning routine. If she could just make her coffee, maybe she would understand herself.

His thumbprints marked her body and mind, and his constant presence in her mind morphed him into a fantastical beast – elusive and distant. She manipulated the image in her mind, painting him as a hero and a villain, but just before she could be convinced of either, the mirage slipped away to her barebone memories of tender smiles as he pulled her close and apologetic eyes as he distanced himself.

It was alarmingly easy to question her own memories.

All this time, had she been right to be so fearful of a relationship with Ethan Ramsey? Was it their doomed fate that pushed her to her lowest point, or had a series of unfortunate missteps blinded her?

A month ago, Charlie knew all the answers.

She knew that she was naïve and reckless to have pursued him in the first place. She regarded her past self with resentment and pity for allowing Ethan to burrow himself in her heart with promises he could never keep. She saw the ensuing chaos and months of painful mistakes as a learning experience. Charlie Greene was smart enough to never trust Ethan Ramsey again.

But was she really?

Sleep-deprived and mindlessly moving through her commute, Charlie didn’t feel smart. She felt angry and confused. Why had she broken her rules? Why had she thrown caution to the wind and exposed herself to danger?

Ethan had the power to hurt her deeply, and now, he handed her the same capability.

There was no safety without hurting him, and the significance of the decision weighed on her. She had every right to be angry at him for backing her into a corner, but something about it felt inevitable. Their current relationship was volatile and unsustainable. A decision had to be made.

She just wished she didn’t have to make it.

As Edenbrook came into view, Charlie mumbled under her breath that she regretted ever meeting Ethan Ramsey, but that was a lie.

The closer she got to Edenbrook, the further her stomach twisted. She dreaded seeing Ethan without having an answer to give him, but she could hardly avoid him all day. Her pace slowed as she attempted to prolong her distance from him, and with her gaze leveled at the door, she felt like she was walking a plank.

Little did she know that she wouldn’t make it to the door.

“Charlie!” Bryce’s eager greeting jolted Charlie out of her head, and she nearly winced at the foreign enthusiasm. Who could be that happy on a morning like this?

Charlie pushed her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose, balancing them on the top of her head as she scanned her surroundings for her friend’s familiar form. It was hard to miss someone like Bryce. He was too tall, too tan, and too devastatingly handsome to blend into a crowd. Soon, she found him by the basketball court near the door and, in an attempt to deter conversation, offered a polite wave.

Bryce waved her over, leaning against the goal post. As Charlie approached, he flashed a bright white smile and flipped his sweaty hair to the side, and interns audibly swooned behind her.

Charlie rolled her eyes, somewhat relieved by the distraction as she polished off her to-go coffee and leveled a cocked eyebrow at her friend.

“You did that on purpose.”

Bryce shrugged shamelessly, flexing his biceps he surveyed the scene behind her. Charlie looked with him and found a conspicuous group of interns and residents clustered near the door. Some were holding coffees and carrying on small talk, if just to warrant their lingering, but some boldly stared. Judging Bryce’s casual confidence and lack of surprise, Charlie wondered if this was a frequent occurrence.

“I did,” Bryce admitted brazenly, smiling even wider, “It’s my responsibility as the most handsome resident. I have a duty to those interns.”

“A duty?” Charlie repeated, amused.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Bryce mused as he shouldered his gym bag, shamelessly flexing his sweaty arms once more for the crowd, “I have to maintain the image. You, on the other hand, look like shit.”

Charlie huffed, mumbling a sarcastic “Thanks.”

He was right, of course. She hadn’t slept, and her indecisiveness took up too much of her headspace for her to think of much else this morning. She dressed in the first scrubs she saw, and as soon as her curls gave her any resistance, she forced them into a ponytail and moved on with her day. Her face was tired and puffy, and without the cover of her sunglasses, her under eyes were dark.

“No offense, of course.”

“Of course,” Charlie echoed in disbelief.

Bryce flashed a wicked smile and leaned in conspiratorially to ask, “To look that bad, you must have had a very good night. What were you up to, Charlie?”

What was she up to?

Just as quickly as it retreated, Charlie’s anxiety resurfaced. Only now, it was bubbling and hot and constricting. She regretted the extra-large cup of coffee as her stomach clenched, and the longer she went without answering, the more she squirmed.

What was she supposed to say? The truth was too complicated to share, especially when she’d kept Ethan a secret for so long. It was one thing to admit that she spent the night fucking her boss in his office, but it was another to admit that she’d been with Ethan. And she couldn’t confess her anxiety without sharing his proposition or the weeks of interactions preceding it.  

Charlie scrambled for a lie, and in the rush, she picked the lamest excuse she could.

“Just didn’t sleep,” Charlie forced a yawn just to prove it, and she internally winced. How would faking a yawn make her seem genuine?

Bryce didn’t look convinced, and Charlie recognized that she was in danger of being discovered.

“Right…” Bryce made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning in further as if silently assuring her that whatever she said would stay between them. Not that it would, of course. If Charlie were to reveal all of her secrets with Ethan, she doubted that Bryce could contain himself.

At best, he’d be so enthralled with the drama that he would feel compelled to tell someone, if just to check if they already knew and hadn’t told him. At worst, he would oppose her self-destructive behavior and would urge their mutual friends to stop her.

But Charlie was so overwhelmed and confused that, if he had pushed, she might have told him.

In the end, she didn’t have to face the questioning at all, and she felt a pang of regret at missing her opportunity to unburden herself.

“Lahela!”

No.

Charlie’s face dropped, and she was relieved that Bryce was too distracted by the greeting to notice.

Everything was too much. Her heartbeat was too fast, too loud. Time passed too quickly, and it was all too soon.

She watched in horror as Bryce waved his arm in a friendly greeting, summoning the familiar voice.

Don’t come, she willed him silently, I’m not ready.

But of course, that didn’t work.

Even though she recognized the voice, she felt a sting of shock when she saw Ethan Ramsey approach her. Just as she feared it might, the mere sight of him summoned more emotion than she knew how to process. Everything was fleeting yet so deep that she couldn’t form a coherent thought.

She missed him. She adored him. She felt a swell in her heart at the sight of him. But she also dreaded his presence. She feared his hold on her. She tortured herself with her own indecision and her failure to give him an answer. She hated herself for not understanding or trusting herself enough to know what to do.

Ethan, conversely, felt only one thing – crushing disappointment.

His gaze had only just found her when she darted her eyes away, actively avoiding him as he neared her. He could see the exhaustion and worry etched on her face, and his heart sank.

She’s not going to say yes, he realized.

He knew this was a possibility. Last night, he reassured her that she could reject him without earning his hatred. But none of that shielded him from the despair of a refusal.

Ethan struggled to regain his composure as he was socially obligated to approach Bryce after calling out his name. He hardly remembered why he wanted to talk to him in the first place, and now, he certainly didn’t want to. The only person he wanted to talk to was Charlie, and even then, he wasn’t sure if he could.

What could he say to her?

He wanted to comfort her in her obvious distress, but he hesitated to push her. There was something comforting in knowing she still had time to change her mind. It made his rejection feel less final, less devastating.

“You forgot your water bottle,” Ethan blurted out as soon as he reached the young doctors, shoving the bottle in Bryce’s direction. He felt the urge to run and struggled to resist it.

He didn’t know how to act normal. He wasn’t sure he remembered what normal was.

His memories were now skewed to Charlie. Surely, before her, he had done this before. He had offered himself and faced rejection. Charlie was a woman, not a life-altering event. So, why did everything but her feel distant? Why did he not recognize the man in the mirror?

Bryce stared at Ethan, obviously confused and perhaps even uncomfortable with Ethan’s changed demeanor. Ethan was trying so hard to be himself that he came off as a caricature of a gruff attending instead.

“Thanks,” Bryce thanked him tentatively, observing carefully as he took the bottle.

Ethan nodded in his direction instead of replying, and he cast a quick, fleeting look in Charlie’s direction as he greeted her, “Dr. Greene.”

Charlie opened her mouth to greet him as well, though she wasn’t sure how to. Could she still call him Ethan, or was she supposed to take the hint when he failed to call her by her first name?

But Charlie didn’t have to decide.

Just as quick as he approached, Ethan left.

Charlie and Bryce watched as Ethan walked into the hospital, his stride purposeful if not downright irritated. The crowd of interns by the door dispersed quickly under the heat of his stare, muttering that he was sure to be a pain in the ass during rotations if he was already in a bad mood.

They were probably right.

Charlie might have felt bad for the interns on the receiving end of his demanding mentorship, but she knew they got to leave it behind after their rounds. She, on the other hand, had the pleasure of working with him for the rest of the day. Charlie tensed at the thought. If they couldn’t manage small talk outside of the hospital, how would they make it through the day?

“That was weird, right?” Bryce asked, still staring at the door like he was trying to work out the scene he just witnessed.

“What was weird?” Charlie asked innocently, staring ahead to avoid being studied by Bryce. She wouldn’t withstand the scrutiny.

“Dr. Ramsey,” Bryce looked at her incredulously, like she was crazy to have missed it, “He was acting strangely, wasn’t he?”

Charlie shrugged with one shoulder, trying to seem casual as she deflected, “I mean, it’s Dr. Ramsey. What’s normal?”

“I guess…” Bryce murmured absently, consumed with the new mystery.

“I’m going to head in. You coming?” Charlie was quick to leave. If she gave it too much time, Bryce might just work it out, and she didn’t really want to answer the questions that would follow.

Bryce tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes narrowed like he was trying to see through a mist, but finally, he let out a deep breath and flashed Charlie a playful smile as he asked, “Are you just trying to get me in the shower?”

Bryce seemed to forget about Ethan and his strange behavior entirely by the time they reached the locker room, and Charlie let out a relieved sigh once he was safely distracted. She left him to shower and rushed to the diagnostics unit before Ethan could make it there. She collected her assignments from June, who was often the first in the office, and began her morning rounds.

Once she was working, Charlie felt the anxiety in her chest slowly dissipate. Distracted with work, she had no room to think of Ethan or his proposition or the complexity of her decision. She picked up extra jobs throughout the day, even stepping in to help a few interns during her moments of peace and inactivity.

Ethan similarly busied himself, but unlike Charlie and her friendly requests to help around the hospital, Ethan was a terror.

Every intern and resident who had the misfortune of crossing his path soon learned to regret it. Working directly with Charlie had distracted him and maybe even softened his disposition, so his young students had not faced his full intensity in some time. Some interns had never even seen it at all.

The first sign of his sour mood came during their morning rounds. Interns who bumbled or made mistakes were quickly and sharply corrected, and by the end of the morning, at least half of the group hated him. One intern almost had the nerve to call him out on his rudeness but lost their nerve under his intimidating stare.

Those who encountered him the rest of the day found him to be even more severe. He watched all of them with a sharp eye, sharper than he had been in quite a while. A few residents didn’t even realize he was present until they received his criticism.

The entire time, Charlie and Ethan did not cross paths.

They were surpassingly good at avoiding each other.

Of course, they couldn’t evade one another forever, and in the late evening, they ran out of places to hide.

The sun had nearly set by the time Ethan and Charlie faced each other again. Despite hours apart, it just took one look to take them back to the basketball court this morning – awkward, hurt, and strained. After that look, they didn’t really like looking at each other.

It was too distracting. They had come together for a group meeting to go over Senator Farrugia’s confounding test results, and they needed to be their best if they were to solve a medical mystery. Thinking about each other consumed too much brainpower and left them preoccupied and emotional.

They distanced themselves for their own wellbeing. Ethan sat at the desk while Charlie sat at the round table in the furthest chair from him. She kept her eyes on the test results and the whiteboard, actively avoiding his blue gaze. He felt her aversion, and it stung. They both contributed to the discussion, though they never directly conversed.

Late into the meeting, Ethan stepped back, allowing his colleagues to follow a train of thought on their own. He found himself watching Charlie, occasionally looking to the others to hide his sole interest in her. She seemed oblivious, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it. Despite his better judgment, he imagined her saying yes, and that proved to be the most painful part of it all.

He could picture it. He could see her smiling her bright smile and kissing him as she agreed to a relationship. He could hear their banter in his car as he drove her back to his apartment, and he could smell the dinner they would make. He could envision taking her to bed and waking up next to her.

It came so easily to him that it felt real.

And with a deep twist in his heart, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t.

He wondered if this was their future – avoiding each other as Ethan tortured himself with ideas of their happiness. If she rejected him, could he look at her in the morning? Could she look at him? Could they work together again?

Or was this horrible day the beginning of a new normal?

“I can’t do this anymore,” Baz groaned, head in his hand, and Ethan could deeply empathize.

During Ethan’s inattention, they had amassed at least a dozen new theories and crossed them all out. All three looked frustrated and discouraged, especially Charlie. This case only compounded the overwhelming flow of emotions she’d felt all day, and she cursed ever fighting to bring Farrugia to Edenbrook.

If she hadn’t poached Senator Farrugia, Ethan wouldn’t have kissed her outside of the bar. She wouldn’t have called him later for him to reject her out of principle. She wouldn’t have gone on a date with David, and Ethan wouldn’t have gotten so drunk that he needed saving. They wouldn’t have gotten comfortable again, and they wouldn’t have had sex last night. None of this would be happening if she had just left the patient alone.

Charlie excused herself from the table, leaving a pile of papers at her seat, as she crossed the room for a glass of water just to have a new distraction.

“This is particularly tricky,” June nodded to Baz as if it were an equal complaint, which only made Baz groan louder as he closed the cover of his tablet and massaged his temples.

“If tricky means ‘absolute hell,’ I agree,” Baz grumbled, and Charlie smiled softly into her glass as she watched them.

She could see Ethan watching them, too. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as amused, or was he irritated as well? Or was he thinking about her?

The last thought made her body tense, and she averted her eyes.

Charlie wished that she knew what to do, but after spending all day running from him, she was no closer to her decision. She was running out of time, and she swore she could hear the ticking clock in the back of her mind.

“On that note, we should conclude this meeting. We’ll pick up in the morning,” Ethan announced, visibly relieved to put the case away for the night.

Baz let out a weak “wooo!” as he let his head fall to the table, still working through his frustration. June shook her head at his display and collected her materials, wishing her colleagues goodnight as she left to check on a few patients before going home. Baz began to pull himself together, albeit slowly.

For a moment, Charlie felt frozen in place as it dawned on her that she would soon be alone with Ethan. As much as she wanted to stop thinking about Senator Farrugia, she wasn’t ready to leave the security of the group meeting. She wasn’t ready to run away, and she wasn’t ready to face him either. She felt as though she just remembered the passage of time, and the reality of her deadline hit her. Every step she took was a step closer to the ending, but she didn’t know what it looked like.

Charlie didn’t trust the fluctuating advice in her head that ranged from “say yes, you idiot!” to “run away and never see him again!”

All she really knew was that she didn’t want to hurt Ethan, but she also didn’t want to hurt herself.

Belatedly, Charlie realized that Ethan was watching her, and she cautiously glanced in his direction only to directly meet his gaze.

Yes.

Charlie was amazed by the thought. It came easily and so readily, and for a moment, she thought everything was solved. But then doubt crept in.

Dropping her eyes, Charlie mumbled an excuse about needing to check on her intern and hurried out of the office before she could be left alone with Ethan.

Once again, Ethan was disappointed.

He was amazed that he still felt it. For any other paramour, the indecision and rejection would have numbed him quickly to reduce the likelihood of future pain. Harper once joked that it was her first clue that he didn’t love her.

But Ethan did love Charlie. Maybe that’s what made him so ready to wait for her, maintaining his optimism with every blow. Maybe he was willing to play the fool for her.

Alone in the diagnostics office, Ethan evaded his own reflection. He didn’t want to see who he’d become in hopes that she would accept his offer, yet he knew he would sink much lower if he lost her.

Forty-five minutes passed, and Charlie didn’t leave his mind for a single second.

At his best, he thought about how he was thinking about her, and at his worst, he thought about everything about her.

While he sat in his thoughts, Charlie found herself running. He was everywhere, yet just when she could touch a feeling or an instinct, her mind instinctively distanced itself. Forcing herself to stay there and face it was a herculean task. Even as she tried, she couldn’t maintain it.

Why didn’t she know? When it’s right, you’re supposed to know.

Charlie paced the halls, finding odd tasks as she went to fill the time, but there wasn’t enough to distract her now. Each time she paced, she found herself a little closer to the office. She felt tied to him and was following an invisible rope.

“I’ll just say no,” she thought aloud, her voice a low mumble kept only to her. As she pivoted in her pace, she frowned and countered, “wait, I should say yes. Or…”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but her thoughts were too jumbled to produce a sentence. It was as if, in the chaos of everything flying at her, there was nothing left. She’d thought of it all and felt no closer to a resolution.

In her frustrated daze, Charlie didn’t realize that she was still walking. Instead of turning at the corner, she kept going, inching closer and closer to disaster. Maybe, subconsciously, she was ready to face him and that’s why she kept walking, or maybe she was so ripped apart by fear and adoration that there wasn’t room for another thought.

She kept walking until she felt a pair of familiar eyes watching her.

Charlie held her breath as she scanned the hallway. She knew she would see him, but that knowledge didn’t prepare her for the sight. She gasped lightly, her chest tight as she tried to remember how to breathe again.

Ethan. Her Ethan.

He watched her carefully, reading the precarious confusion in her face. He braced himself for another rejection, yet… he wasn’t quite sure he would get one. There was something in the way she looked at him – in the way she was still standing there – that made him think she might actually say yes, and that was a dangerous thought. In response, hope and optimism filled his chest, brushing over every wound with golden forgiveness.

Tentatively, Ethan nodded in her direction, still separated by at least twelve feet.

“Charlie,” he greeted her hesitantly, studying her intently for any sign of her answer.

Charlie felt blank. Like all she could do was stare back. When she realized he’d expected her to say something back, she breathlessly whispered, “Ethan.”

This was it.

This was the time.

And Charlie didn’t know.

She wasn’t oscillating between extremes anymore. She was very firmly planted in a field of nothingness. Every thought and idea and argument was out of reach, and she could only see panic-inducing emptiness.

Ethan watched her face twist as she came to this realization, but he couldn’t interpret it. He waited for her to speak, but his foolish optimism couldn’t stay bottled up. He wanted her to say yes so badly that he was willing to push for it.

Against his better judgment, he asked, “Have you decided?”

Charlie’s chest heaved as if all of the air had been taken from her lungs, and she stared at him as she tried to find it again. She stood still, yet she felt like she was running for a clue. She was trying to remember why she’d fought herself on both sides, hoping for an illuminating insight that would change everything. She waited for it to become simple, yet it never did.

And in the recesses of her mind, as she weeded through her feelings while staring down the barrel of nothing, there was a thought.

A small, quiet one. Yet she heard it over the noise.

Maybe the absence of a choice is a choice.

Here, at her last opportunity, if she didn’t know what she wanted to say, that had to mean something. Her frustrating indecision and urge to distract herself said something, but she hadn’t listened.

Maybe she’d made her choice the moment she ran out on him last night. Maybe this whole exercise was just an attempt to hold onto him longer. Maybe she already knew she would lose him.

“I-I…” Charlie stammered, still running. She was always running. She didn’t want it to be true as she finally declared, “I can’t.”

And then she was running. She was actually running. With each step, she was leaving it behind. She was retreating, and she was praying that she made the right decision.

Ethan stood in a state of shock, all of the hopeful warmth replaced with the bone-chilling absence of it. He failed to comprehend the devastation he felt, running just as she did back into his head. He lied to himself that there was still hope. He reminded himself of the time left before the deadline, and as he left the hospital in defeat, he told himself that this was not the end.

Because, if it was…

Ethan didn’t know if he could face it.

And as Charlie tried desperately to retreat, there was a thought she couldn’t escape.

She made the wrong choice.

Author’s Note: SO, I was planning for this to be resolved, but the chapter got long, and I was tempted to raise the suspense. I know you probably hate me and Charlie, but I want Charlie to be human. So, she’s going to be annoying sometimes, so will Ethan. I’m already working on the next chapter, and I can tell you that it has a much happier ending. 

I am sorry tho 

also, I’ve never said this, but in my mind, this series has a long way to go. So, you’ve still got a lot of chapters left if you want to stick around, even if Charlie can be annoying. 

Tag List: 

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[aellynera]

Mors Non Est (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

MORS NON EST (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

(so. um. this was inspired by a dream i had? because my brain does weird things at night and then sometimes i write them.)

Word Count: almost 4k oops

Summary: “Of course, you don’t die. Nobody dies. Death doesn’t exist. You only reach a new level of vision, a new realm of consciousness, a new unknown world.” — Henry Miller, author

Or, what my brain offers as alternate theory on why Nathan made AIs.

Warnings: Leaving this mortal coil (sort of), angsty musings, maybe a swear or two. Okay there’s definitely a swear or...several. (also a disclaimer that I finished this at like 3am and there was a bunch of stuff out of order but I think I got it all worked out now and proofread and all that, but apologies if anything is still wonky)

The rain fell steadily against the wall of glass that faced towards the forest. Sometimes it was soft, like the tickle of a feather, the softest caress of a kiss on your hair, the skim of fingertips against the velvet red petals of a flower. Other times it was harsh, a violently crashing wave on the rocky shore, electricity ripping the sky asunder, an unbridled fierceness like a wild animal frightened and possessed.

It changed without warning.

Soft, hard. Quiet, loud. Calm, violent. Back and forth and back again.

How long had it been raining?

He turned as he heard your footsteps fall on the wooden patio planks behind him. You watched in slight fascination as he unwrapped his hands, used the cloth to dry them, and stuck a hand out to you, your attention half on him and half on the pure beauty of the surrounding scenery.

“You must be the new assistant,” he said, sounding friendly enough although his smile stayed a bit reserved.

He wasn’t expecting you to just show up on his deck. Yes, he was expecting you to be dropped off by the helicopter, that had all been arranged, but for some reason he had...he realized he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting. But you had clearly followed the pilot’s (and soon after, the house’s - that the house told you what to do amused him in the strangest way) instructions and here you were.

He knew his new assistant was more than capable (he had seen your resume, reviewed your coding and debugging history, had meticulously poured over every single little detail of work you had done for his company for the past three years not that he was obsessive about it or anything) but he wasn’t prepared for the person that now stood before him, an intriguing combination of impressed, unsure, interested, and underwhelmed.

You were fucking beautiful.

You nodded. “That’s what they tell me,” you replied, shaking his hand and supplying your name, even though you knew he already knew it. You knew enough about Nathan Bateman to know he knew everything about you before you even heard the head of HR back in the corporate office announce that you got the job.

You later admitted you didn’t know what to think about him either, and you hadn’t really expected anything, since you didn’t know much about him. He was a genius, everyone knew that, and he lived all the way out here by himself. And...that was about it. That’s what you knew.

And you thought he was...kinda hot.

And also an asshole, you liked to point out as the days went on. Nathan didn’t really mind.

*

It was an odd feeling, this feeling of dissonance and uncertainty.

There was so much that needed to be done. There was so much that he didn’t feel like doing.

He came to the door and paused. He spent most of his waking hours in this room - and to be honest, most of his hours were waking at this point, he rarely slept anyway and for as long as he could remember now he had barely slept, except when all that whiskey and vodka kicked in - and yet there was always a moment, the briefest flash of time, where forward momentum paused and he wondered if non-linear time was reality and he would find something different when he opened the door.

It wasn’t, and he never did.

He wandered into the lab and over to the table at the farthest end. Components were spread out before him and he idly reached over to the single chip laying in the center of the mess. It was the last piece of this particular puzzle, the last bit that had to be installed and configured and then…

Then suddenly it became too quiet and too loud all at once. Thoughts were screaming through his brain and he just wanted it to be quiet for a moment.

Quiet so he could go over his calculations in his head. Quiet so he could double check his math. Quiet so he could concentrate on his theories and his expected outcomes. Quiet so he could revel, just for a moment, in his monumental achievement.

There was a sweater hanging on the back of the door. He’d forgotten it was there, even though he had just seen it mere hours before. No, not forgotten, he realized. Blocked. He didn’t forget, he just purposely didn’t remember.

The silent noise became a full-blown cacophony.

Was it still raining?

*

“So how exactly are you going to solve it?” you asked one afternoon, idly twirling your pen in your hand.

“How would you do it?” he bounced back.

You sighed. His behavior was so typical. The man was a certifiable genius but that was usually the problem and not the solution. It was never straightforward. “The AI. How are you going to solve the issue of making it able to have an actual conversation with you?”

“How would you do it?” he asked again.

Shrugging your shoulders, you kept twirling the pen. “I dunno. I guess you’d have to have some way to...maybe cross-reference a database of expressions and emotions and an actual dictionary.”

Nathan paused and considered you, deep in his own forest of thought. He wheeled his chair over to his computer desk and started rapidly tapping keys. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Like...like some kind of mass well of every available, possible interaction. Honestly I would try to figure out the mechanics of everything else first, like motion and movement, You know, walking and running and sitting and standing.”

“Hmmm.”

“But since there are literally infinite combinations, I don’t even know how you would go about even attempting that kind of data pool.”

 “I did actually have an idea about that,” he muttered. Nathan didn’t even turn from his multiple computer monitors and his fingers never stopped clacking away at his keyboard. “But you’re not going to like it.”

This time you groaned instead of sighing. He knew you could feel it coming before he asked - he always told you that you weren’t going to like it before he asked you to do something incredibly stupid that in any other circumstance would get you arrested and you’d never see daylight again.

But this was Nathan Bateman, and of course he was going to ask anyway. And of course you would say yes. You always said yes, it was one of the things he enjoyed most about your company, and even when you did say no, it gave way to a lively debate and a genuine argument over facts and merits, downsides and advantages, and it was fucking amazing.

It had been that way from the start, grown steadily over the weeks and months, and neither of you could really complain. Nathan quickly found that you could keep up with his train of thought even when the track switched abruptly and it was so engaging. Captivating. Enticing.

But this man. This amazingly intelligent (if almost insufferably arrogant) man was going to be the death of you. You told him that at least once a day. He took it as a personal challenge to give you a reason to keep living.

“What did you have in mind?” You doubted you wanted to know.

“What if…” he replied, clicking away, not looking up from the screen as he spoke, “we used the video and audio coding in Bluebook, and patched it through all the cell phone carriers, and rerouted all the satellite signals back here into the lab.”

Before you knew what was happening, your pen flew across the room and connected with his shoulder with a small *thwap*.

“What?” he finally looked up, mock annoyance in his voice.

“Are you absolutely fucking insane, or is this just an extra special occasion?”

*

He left the lab with no real idea of where he was going.

Okay, that was a lie. It was his house. He knew his way around and he knew where he needed to be next. There was an actual agenda but his focus was off.

He walked past the living room and noticed the chess set was still set out on the coffee table. The pieces were still fairly evenly matched, his green dragons maybe just slightly at a disadvantage to your purple ones (because, as you had mentioned at one point, why have a standard chess set when you could have a fun one? And Nathan knew you were anything but standard.)

He knew it was his turn and contemplated the board for a few minutes. No matter how he strategized it, how he worked it out, how he tried to plan it, you had forced him into a checkmate. Again. For at least the sixth time in a row, and probably at least the eight-seventh time out of the last hundredth you had played. He chuckled, softly, briefly. He could do anything with technology and science, but he rarely could beat you at a centuries-old board game.

He made his final move for this round, sacrificing his king to your queen. 

He grabbed the notepad setting next to the chess board, and your pen that lay nearby on the table. He scrawled a quick note to you - checkmate - and placed it on your side of the board, next to your fairly gained draconian horde, even though he was certain you were never going to read it.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

He stared out the window wall, out past the deck, to the running river and the dense groves of trees, off into the distance towards the waterfall.

He should be heading to the room. He should be taking care of the final chip install and making sure everything was online. Instead he simply stood in the kitchen and stared out into the rain.

It occurred to him that the agenda was more of a guideline and his knowledge of his surroundings was merely functional.

*

Nathan briefly considered that standing at the doorway to your bedroom was the last place he should be, but then decided he didn’t care. But that wasn’t true either.

He could just walk in, it wouldn’t be the first time - once you had been wearing only a towel, having just gotten out of the shower and that hadn’t been awkward at all - but that small bit of his conscience that he usually tried to ignore, told him to be polite. 

He knocked.

“What do you want, Nathan?” You sounded muffled, like you had your face partly covered by a pillow. You were probably in bed. He shouldn’t be bothering you. 

He had to bother you, just this once. “Can I come in?”

He could picture your face on the other side, eyes rolling and the sigh as it left your lips, and even though he heard the door hiss quietly as the latch released, his feet suddenly stuck to floor outside your door and his body made no further move.

“I did open the door, so if you’re going to, do it before I change my mind,” you called after a few minutes.

Nathan got his feet to cooperate and entered your room. You were in bed, face half-behind a pillow, your visible eye glaring at him. He stopped at the edge of your bed. His brain started calculating risk factors for the current situation, gains, deficits, advantages - anything it could think of, there were always factors involved, no matter what the situation was, it was just that some factors were more complicated than others. Some required more delicate, cautious manipulation to solve the equation and…

“Are you just going to stand there all night and look at me? Because I swear I really will kick you out, and then change all your passcodes.”

Of course, you teased him later about how much fun it would have been to watch him try to get back in. You swore you were going to do it one day, just for the hell of it. He didn’t mind.

“Do you regret what happened after dinner?” he finally asked.

Your glare softened and you moved the pillow away from your face. Dinner was fine. The company was pleasant as usual, the wine was frequent and flowing. The two of you had started a very animated debate about gender and sexuality as it pertained to artificial intelligence and if any of it were a necessary component or if it was just something you would prefer (he would later tell you how wonderful the expression on your face was when he told you he would be ready to start building a prototype in the next few weeks) and then.

“I don’t regret it at all. Do you?” you arched an eyebrow at him.

Nathan blew a long breath out from his nose. Did he regret kissing you? Nope. Not in the slightest. Did he regret that you might regret it (he was slightly relieved that you said you didn’t) and that nothing would come of it? Yes. And he couldn’t calculate the actual result, just potential outcomes with no concrete denouement, and that made him extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t want this to be an experiment. He wanted an absolute, not a thicket of random. Not in this case.

“No.” He still didn’t move.

“Frankly we should have done it months ago.”

He shook his head and turned just the slightest bit before your reply registered and he processed it. “Wait. You...what?”

You exhaled and sighed as you rolled over, facing away from him and trying to get comfortable in the bed again. “You know, Nathan Bateman, for being the smartest man in the universe, sometimes you are a complete idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue that. This time, anyway.”

“Thank you, because it’s nearly three in morning,” you replied. He could hear the smile in your voice. “Can we talk about this in the morning? Like, later in the morning. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

He nodded and really did turn to leave this time. He was still trying to process. “Okay. Yeah, sure. I, uh...I’ll see you then.”

“Good night, Nathan.”

*

The rain had finally stopped.

He looked out over the landscape, now reflecting and refracting tiny bursts of sunlight in the lingering blanket of droplets.

Trees crowded both sides of the rushing river, leading towards the top of the waterfall. There was a small clearing there, one that almost wouldn’t be found if someone wasn’t looking for it. It was one of your favorite spots.

Nathan found you there fairly often, after he had shown you where it was. If the weather was cooperating, and you weren’t in the house, then nine times out of ten, that’s where Nathan would find you. Sometimes you were reading a book, sometimes you were just stretched out in the grass, looking up at the tips of the timbers as they reached to the sky.

Sometimes he would join you. Those were times that deep conversations would happen, about the projects back at the house and technology and your odd fascination with disco music, which Nathan truly did not understand but tried to humor.

Sometimes he would just smile and let you have your peace. Those were times he would go back to the house and quietly await your return.

He knew that’s where he would find you now.

*

“I’m back from Anchorage,” you called as you came in the front door.

Nathan was in the kitchen and poked his head around the doorway. “Hey. Perfect timing,” he said, brushing his hands off on his pants and flipping a dish towel over his shoulder. “Dinner is almost ready.”

A tired sign escaped your lips as you flopped down on the couch, taking one of the throw pillows and covering your chest and half your face with it. “Thanks. Not hungry.”

“How was the trip?”

You snorted softly. “Wet. Raining. Absolutely miserable.”

It wasn’t what you said that made Nathan stop. It was the way you said it. Your voice sounded so tired, so empty. It didn’t really sound like you, not the voice he’d come to expect to hear every day. It was not the voice that engaged him in conversation, that drew him into theories and concepts and philosophies. It was not the voice that argued about codes and programs and why that would not work no matter how much he insisted it would (to be fair, you were usually right, but he wasn’t going down without a good fight, and neither of you would have it any other way.) The voice that was leaving your body through your mouth wasn’t you.

It sounded hollow.

He leaned against the doorway. The air in the room suddenly felt heavier and he couldn’t quite get his feet to move forward to the couch where you sat. “What did they say?”

Nathan noted that you didn’t look at him. You looked everywhere but him. Like you were trying to keep everything from falling to pieces, maybe? You were definitely not acting yourself either. Suddenly he wanted to take himself outside and kick his own ass. He should have gone with you. You’d been talking about it, for weeks now, he realized.

How tired you were. How you were never really hungry. How things felt like they were getting harder when they shouldn’t have been. How you couldn’t go quite as far on the hikes you loved taking so much, together.

He should have gone with you.

Your face did not move from its half-protected shield behind that tasteful throw pillow.

He doesn’t register most of what you said. He remembers the words “bad” and “already done everything” and “months, maybe”. Maybe. No definite conclusion.

He finally managed to take a few steps towards you.

His brain was kicking into overdrive but not a single one of that rush of thoughts would make an appearance on his tongue. There had to be another answer. Another answer that wasn’t the one he could already see in your eyes.

Your eyes. His favorite feature (at least from the neck up), the ones that showed how much life you had, your spark, your fire.

And he realized the hollowness of your voice had traveled up into those beautiful eyes.

Words stopped making sense in an instant. Everything around him got fuzzy, jagged at the edges, but also intensely focused at the same time.

He finally crossed the room and sat down carefully, warily, on the couch.

Neither of you said another word. His arms slipped around you and you curled into his chest, pulling your knees up to your own. No tears from either of you. No sounds. No words.

He didn’t know how long you stayed on that couch.

The next thing you knew you were in bed, Nathan’s arms still wrapped around you. He must have carried you to the bedroom at some point. You felt the coolness of the sheets contrast with the warmth of his body; you mustn’t have been out for long. You were about to drift off again when Nathan finally broke the silence.

“We’ll figure out a way.”

A sigh escaped your lips, half drenched in sleep.

*

It was the last place he wanted to be. It was the only place he wanted to go.

He slipped into a hoodie and pulled on a pair of shoes and stepped out onto the deck. The air was still somewhat saturated, humid, but the rain was holding off for now. It was warm but he wasn’t, so the hoodie stayed on.

His feet took him down the deck stairs and onto the path paralleling the river. He followed it slowly, breathing in the summer air but not really seeing his surroundings. Like in his house, he knew where he was heading, and this was just the agenda.

At some point (minutes, hours, he really didn’t know how much time had passed) he came to that small clearing of trees.

And there you were.

Nathan took a jagged breath and sat down next to you. His pants were soaked in an instant, but he didn’t care. He was more annoyed that you were cold and wet (he briefly considered how funny you would find the double entendre, and probably tell him that you were definitely wet but he never made you feel cold) and chuckled again when he could hear your scoffing insistence that you were fine here in your special spot.

You weren’t fine. He knew this and wished desperately that you could tell him, tell him anything, say something.

He wasn’t fine. And he definitely did mind.

Nathan didn’t know what else to do, so he just started talking.

“So, uh...I know it’s been a while. I’ve just been really busy, trying to get the AI just right, and...I’m sorry I’ve been away. That’s not what I meant to happen. I’ve been working pretty much non-stop, I know you would be nagging me to get some sleep and eat better and all that shit. And...I wish you would. I would listen to you, for once.”

Silence and the far-off chirp of a bird were his only reply, so he continued.

“I know I shouldn’t be working so much, but I kinda have to. It’s the only way I feel close enough to…”

His throat was acutely, suddenly dry. He did his best to clear it. He was only marginally successful.

“So anyway, that idea I told you about, with all the cell phone data rerouting it here? It worked. Please don’t be mad at me, I know it wasn’t your favorite idea, but I’m pretty sure that’s what finally broke this open. Well, that and all the ideas we worked out together. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, and I know I never really did, and I probably never will…”

He had remembered to grab one thing before he left the house, stashing it in the pocket of the hoodie. He pulled it out now, a single red rose. Cliche, maybe, but they were your favorite flower.

Nathan placed it gently against the stone on the edge of the clearing. The stone with your name. It only had your first name, no dates. He could never bear to put any indicator of time on it; it was too final. Conclusive. Terminal.

He stood and started walking back. He never could stay here very long. It was absolutely ridiculous, but he usually had the feeling you would pop out from behind a tree and tease him about how impressive your joke was and he would never top it.

It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t funny, and he wished he could prove you wrong.

But there was still something he might be able to prove. To make a few things right.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing.

“I have someone else coming to the house this week. He works for the company, he’s a coder...he looks like a good kid. I’m gonna use him to test this model. This really could be the breakthrough we’ve...I’ve...been looking for.”

Nathan turned his head back briefly, to say one last thing before he headed back to the house, before he had to get back to his work.

“I promise I’ll come back soon and tell you all about it.”

The rain started softly coming down again.

~end~

tag list: @anetteaneta​ @darksideofclarke​ @girlwiththemostcake​ @rosemarysbaby13​ @spider-starry​ @writefightandflightclub​ (tags are always open if you want in just give me a holler and say so)

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Bet You Can’t {5}***

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Five-Part Miniseries

 Warning: Cursing, Tease, SMUT, NSFW, Shenanigans, 

 Words: 4K

 Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. IT was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

 Note: So now we’ve come, to the end of the road. LOL, I had to do it. Love me some old school Boyz II Men. Anyway, this is it folks, the last part to this crazy Bet You Can’t No Nut November idea I had. Yeah I know it’s March, and NNN ended months ago but oh well. LOL.  I hope you’ve enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Great huge thank you again to  @oceanscorazon for participating in this and being so damn amazing to work with! It was so much fun doing this with you!!

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It.

***Loosley Edited/Proofread***

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

-Sunday-

-Day One of Week Four-

  Technically the bet was who would make it to the end of November. No one specifically said anything about November thirtieth. Everyone knew that the fourth week of November signified the end of the month, that the week of Thanksgiving was the last week of the month. As far as he was concerned he’d made it and succeeded with flying colors.

 “Eh-em!”

 He snapped out of his runaway thoughts and focused back on you bringing him back to reality. A reality that had him nestled between your thighs with his shorts down to his thighs. God, your body was scorching hot.

 “Did I lose you?”

 “You’ll never lose me, dragonfly.” Softly he nuzzled his nose against yours and brought it to your cheek then your neck. You smelled amazing, like cotton candy, ripened honeydew, gardenias, and sunshine. He loved your scent and right now it was just another thing that was making everything he’d held back seep to the surface. He was struggling.

“Will you forgive me if this is quick?”

 You snorted laughing which made him laugh too. “Really Riah? I’m serious.”

 “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t know you were serious.” You pulled his face to yours and gazed into his eyes lovingly. He loved your doe like sable eyes. He always got lost in them. A hazy feeling overtook him and just like that he was gone.

 “We have no plans today baby, we’re in no rush. I just want you, no matter where or however long.”

 He believed you. His lips met yours for a soft kiss. Just as it intensified he pulled away hearing a deeper meaning to your words.

 “No matter where? Does that mean what I think it means?” Your smile was mischievous and too tempting. Again, his head fell to the crook of your neck. He breathed you in and moaned. Of their own accord, his hips rocked forward nudging your core. He could feel just how much you wanted him. You moaned and tightened the wrap of your legs around his waist.

 “It means whatever you want it to mean.” The shock on his face could not be hidden.

 “Goddamn it, Uriah.”

 He bent his head to capture a darkened nipple between his teeth and gently bite. Like oil to flame, your back instantly arched feeding him even more of your delicious skin. He spent the next several minutes suckling at your breasts, the breasts he knew one day hopefully soon his own child would depend on for nutrients. The thought had him biting you a little harder. Your grunt told him you didn’t mind. He knew you were extra sensitive right now and he decided to use everything to his advantage.

 After five or so minutes he still hadn’t had enough. He licked, sucked, nibbled and kneaded your flesh in every direction until you writhed and begged for more. When he didn’t listen to the pleas from your lips you used your body to plead your case. You rocked onto him, brushing your sex on his throbbing and engorged need. He knew he was at the threshold and knew he would not last as long as he normally did. His mission now was to make this worthwhile for you.

 “Chris, please,” you whined as he quickly flicked his tongue across your nipples.

 “Good things come to those who wait, kitten.”

 He kissed the space between your breasts and trailed down the center of your body to your stomach. Once he reached your belly button he delved his tongue inside and imitated just what he intended to do once he was between your legs. Your moan softened and your fingers buried in his hair and gently tousled his locks.

 “You sure you want me to put a baby here?” Again, he kissed your stomach.

 “Yes.” It was a whisper. He looked up to find your eyes glued to him.

 “Yes?” You bit your bottom lip before you spoke.

 “Yes, daddy.” His lips moved lower continuing his intended path to the treasure at the end of your rainbow. In the last seconds, he decided there was no point in teasing you, but he wanted to savor this.  When his lips met yours again your back arched.

 “Shit,” you hissed out.

 He took his time tasting and teasing you. Slowly he traced your lips with his tongue purposely skipping where you wanted him. He traced down to your opening and moaned finally tasting just what he’d been depriving himself of for weeks.

 “Fuck you taste incredible, baby.”

 “Yeah?”

 Using his hands he pressed your thighs even further back giving him full, unrestricted access. Once you were spread wide he ravaged your flesh never keeping one speed or pattern. His goal was to keep you guessing, keep you arching, keep those sexy moans tumbling from your lips. You gasped releasing a high pitch that gave him goosebumps. Hunger got the best of him and he couldn’t go slow anymore. He hooked his hands around your thighs and pulled you firmly against his lips.

 “Fuck, Chris!” Your fingers were back in his hair raking your nails against his scalp. He sucked your clit in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it pulling a shiver from you.

 “Oh my god, Chris, you’re gonna make me come.”

 “Come for me, kitten. Come right here.”

 He stuck his tongue out and dipped it into your tight core then withdrew only to do it again and again. Each time he sunk his tongue into the most intimate part of you your grip on his hair tightened and your shiver intensified. Small little mewls filled the room and it only fueled him even more.

 Without warning, he felt the sweet gush of your desire flow. He moaned on you but didn’t stop for one second. Your screeches got louder and louder until your body convulsed. You tried to pull his head back, but he was not having it. When you realized he had no intention of giving you any reprieves you tried to pull back. He held you firmly in place and locked eyes with you. he knew that you knew you’d have to give him what he wanted before he let you go.

 “Oh my god!” He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and felt the resistance in your thighs and he knew you were coming again. Your body shook again, and he still held you right where you were and took everything you offered.

 “Shit, shit shit, Chris!” You squealed his name and continued trying to pull away. Two was good enough for him—for now. He rose up onto his fists and hovered over you. You quickly pulled his face to you and sucked his lips. Your tongue sensually delved into his mouth and twisted around his. The groan he released gave away just how turned on he was and how much pain he was in trying to hold himself back.  Slowly you released his lips while pulling him on top of you.

 “Make love to me Chris, please.” Your hand wrapped around his shaft and squeezed.

 “God Uriah.”

 “Don’t hold back anymore baby. I need you.” You rubbed him along your slit fully coating him with your essence. He closed his eyes to invest himself fully into the feelings that were washing over him. He didn’t know how much more he could take. When he looked at you that was the absolute last straw. You looked so open, so beautifully open for him. he swore he could see and feel every emotion you were feeling and then some.

 “I love you, Riah.” You opened your mouth to speak but instead, you flung your head back and gasps at the first feel of him filling you for the first time in weeks. He felt the instant urge to come but buried his face in your collar trying to hold off the inevitable.

 “Riah--.” The tremble in his voice was so raw. You had to know how close he was to falling apart. He was afraid to move; he was so damn close.

 That was when you began moving for him taking him completely off guard. After your body rocked on his for a third time he was moaning and panting but still holding on. What started as slow rocks, turned into passionate waves with you clenching around him.

 “Fuck!” Before he knew what he was doing he was pinning you to the bed with your legs spread wide and delivering his own onslaught of thrusts. Your nails scraped his back and only fueled him more. His eyes zeroed in and watched himself slide in and out of your body. The sight was mesmerizing. Though each felt incredible and he swore that one would be the last it wasn’t.

 Five minutes passed and he still miraculously hadn’t come though you’d done so twice already. He didn’t know how he was still able to keep going. Maybe it had something to do with him not looking into your eyes, maybe it was because he kept thinking about random things like tomatoes, baseball, football, and even politics. 

Whatever it was it was working, and he was determined to make it continue working. That was until you rolled on top of him and ground on him slowly rotating your hips in perfect circles. His hands instantly flew to your hips hoping to steady you. You swatted them away and threw your head back and continued your search for your next release.

 “Oh my god Chris, you feel so good—so good! Do you feel—feel it?”

 All he could muster were mutters as he held on to your hips. You were not taking it easy on him and half of him was glad for it. He wanted a release more than he wanted air right now, but he wanted to feel this feeling for as long as he could. God, he’d missed you.

  -Uriah-

You were being pretty selfish right now, but you didn’t care. You felt as if you’d been deprived of this for months rather than the weeks it had been. You wanted more so you took more. Bracing your palms on Chris’ abdomen you used him as leverage and began bouncing on his dick.

 “Oh my god, Uriah!”

 His grip on your hip tightened and because of it, you bounced faster fighting against his strength. Suddenly Chris began pumping up to meet you each time you came down. He knew this always made you weak. Your actions stilled so you couldn’t handle the levels of pleasure your husband was giving you. Your body shook and it was then Chris’ hand clasped over your breast. Your body moved on its own and soon both you and Chris were moving in unison each chasing your own pleasure. That was until your eyes met and everything slowed. The mad dash to the finish line slowed as did your bodies.

 Chris rolled you onto your back and crushed his lips to yours and took whatever of your breath you had left. Your moans evaporated in his mouth as did his in yours. His movements did not slow, they only became more and more precise. It was if were trying to bury himself as deep as possible so you would never be without him.

 “Ugh-ugh-ugh! Do you feel me, Uriah?”

 You nodded your head rapidly; speech was not possible. He pressed your hand to the bed and entwined his fingers with yours tightening his hold every time he thrust deeper into you.

 “Oh god, Chris I’m gonna come again. Yes, yes, right there!”

 “You want me to make you come, kitten? Tell me how bad you wanna come.”

 “So bad—please.” You arched your head back once again feeling the intense mix of pain and pleasure only he could deliver. Chris dropped his forehead to yours and kissed you again.

 “Come for me baby--let me make you--a daddy. Let me give you everything we both want,” you panted out on strangled breaths every time he sunk deep into you.

 Chris grunted then splayed his palm across your abdomen. He didn’t need to speak, neither did you. Both of you knew the words you wanted to say but you spoke them in other ways.

 “You want my baby? A little girl with your smile,” Chris whispered.

 “A little boy with your eyes,” you countered.

 Once the words were out the emotion on his face was evident and couldn’t be misunderstood. Almost instantly his thrusts picked up pace and in a matter of seconds his pants and moans were louder than yours, but he soon made you take the lead again.

 “I love you, Chris!”

 “I love you more, dragonfly.” He barely got the words out before he found his release which triggered yours. Your scream was loud and if anyone passed they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. Your body shook and a whimper escaped you as you tried to catch your breath.

 Long minutes passed with Chris on top of you still buried deep within you. Neither of you spoke or moved. You knew for a fact you didn’t have either in you. You were completely weak and fulfilled. Chris moaned and looked down to meet your eyes.

 “So much for no nut.” You snorted and snickered into his shoulder. It didn’t take him long before he joined you. He then dropped onto his back with a grunt.

 “Good riddance I say. If you ever do something so stupid again I swear to you I will tie you up and take what I want while making it as torturous for you as possible.” He moaned; you felt a soft thud against your belly making you look down to see he was once again hard.

 “That did not just turn you on.”

 “I mean it didn’t sound like a punishment really. It sounded kinda hot.” You shook your head and kissed his chest.

 “What are the chances I can convince you to climb on?” You pretend to give it some real thought.

 “Depends on what’s in it for me.” Chris’ smile was wide.

 “Unimaginable pleasure. I have weeks to make up for and for us that means one round down forty-one to go.” Slowly you smiled unable to hide your excitement.

 Summer had been right that ill-fated night on the beach, the two of you were like rabbits. Wasting no more time you climbed on top of him and took control, but only for a moment before Chris was commanding your body to do what he willed telling you his ledger had red in it and that he intended on clearing it before Tuesday night. You smiled and dipped down to him pressing your lips to his ear.

 “Bet you can’t.”

 The incredulous look he gave you nearly made you fall off of him laughing. He smiled and quickly flipped you onto your back.

 “Oh ho, you’re on Mrs. Evans.”

   -Thursday-

It’s all fun and games until someone loses a bet and had to face the consequences of their actions. Today you should have been worried about cooking Thanksgiving dinner and entertaining yours and Chris’ family and friends who made the trip to your house for the holiday. You should be worried about nothing but having enough alcohol for the masses but no, you had more than that to worry about.

 “I can’t believe this,” Summer groaned out on FaceTime. Neither could you.

 “I have my huge ass family over here Riah now look at what this big child has gotten me into,” she complained.

 “I know. These two dummies.” You and Summer shook your heads together. You could see Hemsworth approaching in the frame. When he sat he kissed Summer’s temple and smiled at you.

 “Hey Riah, how are you, love?”

 “Just great.”

 “You sure you’re holding up all right? From what Summer tells me Evans has been giving you quite the workout.” Summer slapped his arm and gave him awide-eyedd look.

 “Really Summer?”

 “Come on girl, how was I going to keep quiet about the back breaking Evans has been putting in, your words.”

 Chris sat beside you then with a serious look on his face. You didn’t look at him long before you looked back to the camera and gave your Chrissy Teigen “yikes” face. Summer busted out laughing.

 “You shouldn’t be talking Summer. Like who the hell has sex on top of a lifeguard hut?” Summer gasped at Chris’ comment and glared at Hemsworth who sipped his beer then spoke.

 “All right, so we’re all gathered here to face our shame. Shall we get on with it?”

 You could see comments coming in. “Wait, Summer have you been live this whole time?” She nodded. You slapped your forehead when you saw a comment come in about you and Chris being some freaks.

 “I tried to tell you don’t let Chris’ very white skin fool you, there is a brother in there somewhere dying to get out and I bet Uriah can attest to those sentiments,” Summer defended.

Your eye caught a comment about Summer and Hemsworth’s escapade on top of the lifeguard hut. They asked if the beach was at least empty.

 “No comment,” Summer announced.

 “Let’s just say it was three o’clock in the afternoon, mate and this is Australia. If the sun’s out we’re on the beach.” His smile was wide as if he was the cat that had stolen all the milk.

 “Who wants to go first?” Chris looked at your smiling face.

 “I think it’s only right the ones who failed first should go,” you suggested giving Summer and Hemsworth an all knowing look.

 “You told them we were first?”

 “I was not going to lie, Christopher,” Summer defended.

 “All right so get on with it,” Chris instructed. Summer glared at him as if to say watch it.

 “Fine, since we must do these childish things. Y’all these idiots made us do this stupid No Nut November fuckrey to the protest—”

 “Strong protest,” you interjected.”

 “Yes, to Uriah and my strong, strong protest. They refused to heed the warning and completely underestimated the power of the pussy.”

 “And they paid dearly for it and suffered the consequences,” you added.

 You tried to stifle your laughter from the comments coming in. When you began there were maybe two hundred thousand watching. That number was steadily climbing and now you saw almost a million people were watching. You were divulging intimate details of your sex life to the world.

 “We said whoever lost had to come on here and announce it. So it looks like me and Summer are the ones who caved first,” Hemsworth said as he looked at Summer who didn’t look sorry at all.

 “Hashtag sorry not sorry,” she offered. You busted out laughing first and Chris followed.

 “Yall shouldn’t be laughing you lost too. Couldn’t even keep your hands off each other,” Hemsworth added.

 “Whatever, as far as we’re concerned we’re the winners. You hear that. I told you anything you can do I can do better.” Hemsworth took the bait.

 “No you can’t, mate.”

 “Uh yeah, I can. This just proved it. the better man won.”

 “What? No you can’t. I’m the better man,” Hemsworth shot back.

 You pinched your nose bridge because you could see where this was going. When you glanced at summer you could tell she knew it too.

 “All right mate, there are plenty of other months. There’s destroy the dick December a full thirty-one days of sex on lifeguard huts and crazy shit, all you can take. First to tap out loses. There’s feral fuck February, a full twenty-eight for the roughest nastiest sex ever.”

 “Oh yeah, I know about those. What about manic masturbate March serious hand lovin for the entire month, and Ass all over April which is self-explanatory and Miss out May thirty-one days of nothing whatsoever,” Chris countered.

 Hemsworth slid to the edge of his seat and pointed his bottle to the camera then began. “I’ve got better. Jumpin’ June thirty days thirty toys goal is to use em’ all like Pokemon.”

 “Jack of all trades July whatever and however the wife wants she gets,” Chris shouted.

 “Orgasmic August!”

 “Sexless September!

 “Orgasms R Us,” Chris and Hemsworth shouted together trying to beat the other to it.

 The comments were blowing up and you and Summer were just sitting there in complete shock at what the hell was happening before your very eyes.

 “Bring it, Evans! I can do this all year!”

 “Oh yeah? You think I can’t?”

 “Oh hell naw!” Both you and Summer’s voices shouted in complete solidarity.

 “There is no way in hell any of that is going down,” Summer enunciated for Hemsworth.

 “Summer come on, he’s challenging us.”

 “No, he is not. Look you fools are not going to put us through this shit again. I want my dick when I want my dick and how I want my dick. You two have no say so. Just shut up, look pretty and slang that dick!”

 “Hallelujah, Amen!” Your shout was that of a church sister who was feeling the sermon.

 “Riah--,” Chris began before you snapped your fingers closed signaling him to zip it.

 Seeing that you and Summer were adamant about not doing any of the shit they were talking about both men glared at each other in silence. You almost felt you’d won but then they both began talking again about what else, yet another bet.

 “I’m calling you now,” Chris said as he stood and began walking away. In seconds Hemsworth’s phone rang and he was standing and answering it before he walked off camera. You and summer sat there in stunned silence. Neither of you spoke for a full two minutes. You could hear Hemsworth in the background speaking in an animated voice, one that Chris sounded to be riveling

 “What the fuck just happened, Summer?”

 She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut several times before she sighed and tried again. “Are we right back where we started?”

“The fuck we are.”

 The comments were filled with notebook and pen emojis and peach and eggplant emojis. You shook your head at the same time Summer did. When you opened your mouth to speak a sinful idea came into your head. You mulled it over for a few seconds but each second that passed the lightbulb only grew brighter and brighter. You looked at the camera to see if Summer had the same idea. When you saw her sinister smile spread you knew she did.

 “Did you just have the same idea I had?”

 “Did it involve December?”

 “Ayyyyyyy!” You and Summer Milly rocked in your seats each adding your own twang to it.

 Chris sat back down as Hemsworth sat beside Summer.

 “We got it,” Hemsworth began.

 “We got it too,” you and Summer replied in unison as you smiled and looked at your husbands. They both looked confused. You brought your lips to Chris’ ear and whispered just what December meant to you. after almost a full minute if giving him CliffsNotes of the details you bit his earlobe and sat back. Summer did the same thing and the two of you waited knowing damn well what their answers were going to be.

 As sure as the sun rose in the east and sets in the west both men smiled widely as they looked to each other.

 “Bet you can’t,” they said at the same time.

 “You’re on!” Their quick replies had both you and Summer smiling widely, smiles your husbands didn’t even see. They thought they’d been the ones to yet again pull the two of you down with them but in fact it was the other way around. You and Summer were the puppet masters this time and you both intended to use your powers for evil and they were none the wiser. Chris and Hemsworth got up and walked off again leaving you and Summer to lean into the camera.

 “May the best woman win,” you whispered to each other before ending Live with a wave to the viewers.

 Your husband had no idea what was in store for him this December. 

TagList:

@chrisgalore @chaneajoyyy @rynabarnesrogers @disneysdarlingdiva @bellaamor88 @ab-baybay @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu @momobaby227 @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @titty-teetee  @zaddysqueen7  @melaninhawtie  @simplyyamberr @airis-paris14 @ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @sup3rn0va13 @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @designerwriterchic

[thirsty-x1]

Boys/Boys/Girls | Han Seungwoo, Cho Seungyoun

Request:

hi, can i req a ryeonseung x reader threesome? 😋 but the reader is the dom!

↬ Pairing: sub!Seungwoo x soft dom!Reader x sub!Seungyoun = Ryeonseung x fem!reader

↬ Genre: Smut

↬ Warnings: explicit language, slight gay interactions *coughs*, choking, mommy kink (I just had to, it’s only twice too), orgasm denial, overstimulation, unprotected sex. Also a few toys here and there.

↬ Word Count: 4k

↬ A/N: Of course the title is inspired on P!ATD’s song about threesomes. I also literally adore this request.

“You have to stay quiet, baby boy.”

This was probably your favorite sight: Seungwoo underneath you, his cock twitching inside you, the cock ring doing its job whilst you had your hand wrapped around his neck; it was almost glorious. You would have loved to hear his beautiful sounds if it weren’t because right now both of you were at the dorms, and if any of the other guys were to find his leader being completely dominated by his girlfriend… Let’s just say it wasn’t going to be the best for his authoritative figure.

He swallowed harshly, nodding eagerly. “I promise, but please, let me cum.”

The smile on your face was all he needed for him to relax and try to stick to his promise as you started to move, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes closing shut, quickly opening when you tightened your grip on his throat. You could notice the way his hands were dying to touch your body but still followed your orders, maintaining them on top of his head, although his lips were slightly open as he let out a few silent sighs.

“Such a good boy for me.” Your other hand grazed against the exposed skin of his chest, softly rubbing on one of his nipples, his hips thrusting up at the sensation, burying deeper inside of you. “Ah… You are very close, aren’t you?” His low whimper was answer enough. “Cum.”

A choked out moan made his way through as he chased his orgasm, filling you up while his eyes rolled to the back of his head, you fingers feeling his breathing hitch. Right then, the door swung open, a worried looking Seungyoun appearing on the frame, freezing in place at the scene happening right in front of him: Seungwoo crying “thank you” a thousand times, your hands on his throat and his tied up gripping the bed headrest.

“I-I thought that you g-got hurt or something… Sorry, I didn’t know y/n was here.” His blabbering didn’t stop and he didn’t even try to hide the surprise on his face or at least look other way, staring directly at the few toys beside you and listening closely to the sound of a vibrator that was nowhere to be seen, cheeks blushing quickly when he noticed how the older started to contort.

“Seungyoun, could you leave the room just for a bit?” Your voice interrupted his curiosity, turning around in the slowest way possible before closing the door.

Not wasting a second, you got up, not caring about Seungwoo’s cum making a mess as it flowed down your legs and quickly pulling the small device out of him and finally freeing his sensitive member from the cock ring. You had been teasing him for quite a long time before and the unexpected visitor had made you surpass his limit, his body curling up and breathing heavily while he tried to control the slight spasms that ran through his system. After a few minutes, your boyfriend finally talked again.

“Fine, I’m fine…”

“I’m so sorry, baby, do you need anything?” Your fingers caressed his hair, placing kisses all over his face, feeling guilty.

He giggled at your reaction. “I’m really fine, it wasn’t that bad. But… Seungyoun saw.”

“Yes, and I felt how you didn’t care at all, not even a little bit.”

Just now his hands went to cover his face, embarrassment making his way to present a completely flushed Seungwoo remembering what had just happened. He sat up and you had to hold him before he almost dropped against the mattress again, grabbing his clothes and carefully dressing him up.

“I will go and talk with him, yes? We can meet tomorrow but maybe it’s for the best if you go home now.” You accepted his suggestion and he gave you a soft peck. “Thank you, again.”

“He wants what?”

Talking about this on the phone wasn’t what you would call appropriate, especially when it came down to a sexual plan that involved your boyfriend and his group mate.

“Seungyoun said he understood everything and that actually he had always been interested in exploring that. I didn’t tell him nothing yet but it was quite obvious that he was implying trying it with us, don’t you think?”

You had to massage your temple in order to not go crazy over this. “Let me see if I’m getting this right: you want Seungyoun to join us.” The line went silent and you could imagine his blushed face.

“… Maybe.” I fucking knew it. “Think about it! If we drag him into this, then he won’t be able to tell anyone because he will be involved too. You know he blabbers around the whole day, it will surely slip off his mouth unless he is pretty conscious about it.”

Fuck. He had a point, and a good one. Even if Seungyoun was usually quiet whenever he was at the dorms, the second that a group of people surrounded him he wouldn’t stop talking and more than once a bit of information that he wasn’t supposed to reveal would come out of his lips. But could you really manage to have not one, but two whiny grown men on your power?

“Fine.”

“What.”

“Fine, but bring him to my place, we can’t risk getting caught again.” Just picturing you having to control Wooseok, Yohan and Hangyul was giving you a headache. The doorbell made you flinch, and you had to clench your jaw. “You are already here, aren’t you?”

“… Yes.”

As you hanged up, a sigh came out, trying to calm. Considering that Seungwoo used to be quite obedient, this wasn’t something you were used to. Seungyoun was already being a bad influence and he had no idea about it. You pressed the button to open the gate for them, few minutes later both already sitting on the couch while you were standing in front of them.

“Seungyoun.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you want to try being on the more submissive role?” He nodded shyly. “Do you want me to do it?” Now he panicked, eyes flying to the older as if to ask for help but Seungwoo was staring to the floor.

“I would… I would like that.”

“Follow me. Both of you.”

Hearing an extra pair of steps behind you was new, but not unpleasing. Actually, if you were being honest, the reason why this made you upset was because of how much of a turn on it was. Seungwoo and you had to learn how to make the dynamic work with time and dedication, but this time Seungyoun was a complete newbie and you already had the experience. The thought made you tremble.

“What should I do?” Your boyfriend’s voice wavered a little, scared puppy eyes looking up to you.

“You will be punished.” Seungyoun bit his bottom lip at the mention of punishment, your stomach fluttering at the idea of having him in that spot. “Go look for the box while I talk with Seungyoun.”

As Seungwoo walked towards the closet, the younger turned to you. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Boundaries.” His mouth shaped in a pretty ‘O’ and nodded. “I need you to communicate with me, yes? All the time. Tell me when something feels good, or when it makes you uncomfortable. I know it’s too quick to ask you to trust in me, but I promise I will try my best to not hurt you as long as you follow my orders.”

The “as long as you follow my orders” roamed in Seungyoun’s mind, wondering if you would actually inflict pain on him if he didn’t. Probably not, since it was the first time, but he would be into trying it out in the future… Again, panic flashed on his face as he felt blood running towards his crotch at the idea of you making him submit in the rough way. His thoughts ran wild and he stopped listening to you at some point, getting back on his senses as you pressed him against the wall.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“I just need you to answer me, Seungyoun. Can you be a good boy and do that?” You saw the lump in his throat move.

“Yes.”

Seeing your pleased smile, everything clicked for him. He just wanted to have you smile like that again, and would do anything to make it happen. In a fraction of a second, your hands were caressing the sides of his body, a tingling sensation traveling through him when he felt your fingers tugging on the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take it off?”

There was no hesitation when he accepted, soon his exposed skin coming into view, tracing the ink that decorated it with your fingertips, sending shivers down his spine. You had noticed his growing bulge quite a long time ago and were avoiding it on purpose, seeing how long it would take him to reveal his true bratty nature, but it seemed that he was genuinely trying to hold it back. Just when your palm was hovering over his hard on, a small whimper caught your attention and you turned around, Seungyoun tongue twisting to not curse at Seungwoo.

“I couldn’t hold back…”

His tiny voice was almost a whisper as you saw his hand stroking his cock furiously, the sound filling the room. You tsked and walked up to him, slapping his hand away before taking out handcuffs of the box he had left on the bed.

“Hands behind your back.” He whimpered, a soft cry to not do that to him. “Now, Seungwoo.”

As always, he complied, twitching when he heard the click sound and being restrained. However, he wasn’t expecting you to start touching him, your pace slow compared to the one he had before, hips bucking to make it better and you yanked his hair.

“How can you be so disobedient? Is it because Seungyoun is here?” He let out a whine at it, or maybe at your fingers teasing his slit. “Ah, not using your words. Then, you don’t deserve this.”

“Wait! Sorry, I’m sorry, I will use my words–”

“No, you won’t. You already know the rules and yet broke them. Not cumming until I finish with Seungyoun.” Next, you gagged him and placed the usual cock ring at the base of his member before going back at the other who was in the exact same position but way more fucked out now. “Come here.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, already crossing the room and sitting on the bed, awaiting for your next command in the most pure and obedient way you had ever seen him. Of course you adored his usual cheerful and loud self, but there was no denying in this new side of Seungyoun becoming your favorite. Seungwoo’s precum was on his fingers as you held them in front of him, and before you could give any indications, his mouth opened, your core getting wet at the action. Carefully, you let him lick your fingers, his nose scrunching at the taste but nonetheless he didn’t stop, the way that his tongue cleaned each small patch of skin shaking you, and the smirk on his face proved he knew what he was doing.

“It doesn’t taste very good.” You chuckled at his remark before sucking on the same spot he had, his dick throbbing.

“I might let you taste something better.”

Seungyoun did everything on automatic, as if there was no need for you to give him any orders, and it had you feeling confused because on one part you liked that he was obedient but on the other one it was almost as if he was the one that was truly in control. That wasn’t done innocently; he knew what he was doing and you could sense that.

“Is there anything wrong?” The question slipped past through his lips after a few seconds of you simply staring into his eyes along with a moan when you finally started palming the raging tent in his pants.

“Bad boy.” The fake surprise in his face was evident. “Give in to me, Seungyounie.” As you ran your fingers through his hair softly, you held a fist of it, pulling strongly on it, a high-pitched whimper making his way up his throat. “That’s much better.”

His body relaxed and slowly melted into your touch, the final push being given when you leaned in and kissed him, smiling on his lips when you saw Seungwoo with parted lips trying to make something about it. You pressed Seungyoun against the mattress, getting up to undress yourself, both staring hungrily at your naked figure. Straddling his face, you checked on him before lowering yourself, holding back your own sounds at the feeling of his tongue lapping your juices. It was obvious he had experience, but you weren’t expecting it to be this good: he knew how to make someone surrender with just his mouth, but wasn’t really into what meant to be simply used. As you slightly raised your hips up, he put his hands on your hips to try and make you lower on him again.

“Mommy, please…”

You were about to punish him for touching you when the pet name came out of his mouth, freezing you on the spot. Seungwoo hadn’t used it on you, at least not yet, and to hear it come from the younger one beneath you caused an intern switch to flick. Going back to the first position, you let him keep eating you out, seeing your boyfriend’s confused expression at the whole situation. Yes, you were supposed to punish Seungyoun or at least swat his hands away, but it was also true that you hadn’t quite told him about the “no touching” rule, so it wouldn’t be fair. When you felt your thighs start to quiver, it was time to stop, the sight of him licking his lips as if it was the best dessert he ever had making you smile sweetly.

“You were such a good boy… You deserve a reward, don’t you think?” Kissing his body and traveling down, the rules had to be explained this time. “You can’t touch me, and you can’t move for your own pleasure. Don’t cum unless I say so.”

“I understand.”

It was a little bit surprising to see how eager he was to comply… But it was even better to see how wrecked he looked the moment you came in contact with his cock, stroking it at a low pace as your lips closed around the head. You sucked him off, twisting your palm on the tip as your tongue left saliva on the base. He really was trying to keep his hips still, failing a few times but it was expectable since it was his first time. At some point, you realized that his eyes weren’t on you but on Seungwoo, who was fixed in observing how you pleased the younger, cock twitching but nowhere near cumming. You came up, whispering softly on Seungyoun’s ear.

“You like to be watched by Seungwoo?” The throb on your hand was enough answer. “So naughty… So dirty to enjoy having his girlfriend suck you off and letting you eat her out, don’t you think?” He closed his eyes to each of your words, as if he was trying to hold back his orgasm.

“Y-Yeah, I’m dirty…”

“Cum, Seungyoun.” The twist of your wrist right at his most sensitive spot had him releasing white stripes all over your face and his stomach, a choked whine escaping him as his eyes opened wide. “You know, this isn’t fair for Seungwoo. He got so hard seeing you like this, he deserves something. Do you have any idea?”

It was barely possible for him to reply. “Let him touch you while I f-fuck you?” You chuckled, walking towards your boyfriend, taking off the gag and offering your hand to clean it whilst your other one freed his handcuffed wrists, checking for any marks.

“She is the one fucking you, not you.” You let out a soft hum at your boyfriend’s words, rewarding him with a few bites on his neck before kissing him, shivers running down your spine when he tasted Seungyoun on your tongue.

“That’s right, baby. You have learned so much…” The younger was anxious again, his hard on being notorious again. “I am proud of you.”

Both seemed to come undone at the simple praise. You searched in the box again, pulling out a silk rope and a very, very tiny toy. Seungwoo stared at you with furrowed brows, and you shook your head. It wasn’t for him.

“I’m fine with that.” Seungyoun’s voice interrupted your silent conversation, making you raise your eyebrow. “I-I mean…”

“I’ll let it pass but don’t talk out of place again.” You pulled on his hands and he moved up, immediately giving you his wrists so that you would tie them up against the bars of your headboard. “Seungwoo, prepare him.”

Your boyfriend nodded and now you saw Seungyoun swallow. It seemed he wasn’t really expecting that to happen, but the precum dripping into his stomach quite denoted he didn’t complain about it. The older already knew what to do, squirting some lube into his fingers and the younger’s hole, a sigh coming out of him as he felt the digits making way slowly. Meanwhile, you observed your two subs with a pleased smirk, especially Seungwoo who was treating him in the exact same way as you did on his first time. After a few minutes of scissoring him, Seungyoun started to finally get used to the sensation (which didn’t seem to be completely foreign to him) and even started to enjoy it. Things that happened when your boyfriend had incredibly long fingers.

“If I keep fingering him, he is going to cum. Should I place the vibrator inside?” You nodded, passing him the small bullet item and straddling Seungyoun again, giving him a few lazy strokes before sinking down, causing him to groan and grip tightly the restriction on his wrists at the same time that the older pushed the device inside of him.

“If it becomes too much, just ask us to stop. Understand?”

“Yes, yes I understand.” Heavy breathing, sweat dripping down his skin, lip almost bleeding from him biting on it.

“You look beautiful, Seungyoun.” He threw his head back, the compliment making him swoon. Your body leaned back, resting on Seungwoo’s chest. “Please, touch me baby, I really do need you now.”

His big hands were on you, gripping your breasts delicately with one hand as the other one slid down to tease your clit. As you started riding the dick inside you, Seungwoo bit down on your shoulder, marking you up little by little, his own hard on pressing against your ass, taking advantage of the friction your movements gave him. It was funny to you how just now he was getting jealous at the situation happening, noticing it in his hard touch: suddenly he was pinching your nipples, sucking on your neck, roughly rubbing your sensitive nub, his dominant side appearing only when you had someone else inside you. Interesting.

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” He whispered on your ear, his hands now on your hips guiding your pace.

“Maybe if you had held back your need to brag about our relationship, or your moans, we could have been doing something different.”

He knew you were right, and he also knew it was his punishment. It annoyed him, but the only way for it to not happen again was simply learning the lesson. There was something adorable in seeing his usually playful band mate like this, though: tied up with nails digging on his palms, his chest raising heavily, eyes fixed on how his hands were traveling up and down your body wishing he could do the same. Maybe it was childish, but Seungwoo couldn’t help to tease him, showing how only he could make you feel good, make you feel proud of him.

You make the intensity of the vibrator inside of Seungyoun go up, his neck getting red at his deep grunts, brows furrowing at the sensation of having his sweet spot stimulated. Escaping the leader’s grip, you snickered a hand up the stomach and chest beneath you, wrapping your fingers around his throat and pressing lightly, a small plea falling off his lips.

“Are you close, kitten?” Another moan. “Will you cum for mommy?” The embarrassment was obvious on his blushed cheeks, but nonetheless he nodded and you increased the vibrations. “Do it.”

The oversensitivity was becoming too much for him, two orgasms in a row leaving him slightly exhausted with the whole added new experience, but just as you were about to feel his come, Seungwoo lifted you up, the ribbons falling on your stomach. You chuckled at his immature action, but still gave him what he wanted, getting on all fours while still keeping a lose hand on Seungyoun.

“Please, let me fill you.” His begging was like music to your ears as he softly caressed your ass.

“You have permission. Take off the ring.”

He muttered a slight “thank you” and a moment later he slammed into you, the difference in sizes making you hiss slightly. Seungyoun’s eyes were hazy, but still lingered on you, seeing the expression that you rarely let Seungwoo see: your hooded eyes, parted lips letting low moans out, licking your lips and swallowing often because of how dry your mouth became, how your eyebrows furrowed when he hit a particular spot inside of you. It was all too good, and his hands itched to touch you. Your body was suddenly pulled, separating you from Seungyoun as you were now against Seungwoo’s chest again.

“When will you stop punishing me?” The mutter was only audible for you, as the younger was way too focused on the sensations that the toy was giving him.

“You know you are my only one.” His forehead rested on your shoulder, a whimper coming out of his lips. “Make me cum, Seungwoo, and you can make me yours right in front of him.”

Nothing else was needed. He snapped his hips, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, his thrusts reaching deep inside of you in a way that only he knew how. It wasn’t long until you reached your high, clenching down on him tightly, his warm sperm overflowing at the same time. His arms hugged you close, waiting until his throbbing calmed down to pull out of you, some of his cum dripping down Seungyoun’s thigh, which made you notice how he was on the verge of fainting, his cock letting out a new translucent spurt as he started shaking. You pulled out the toy of him in one motion, a mix between a cry and gratitude leaving him.

All three of you were exhausted, but since you and Seungwoo were used to these kind of sessions, it was easier to recover. You untied Seungyoun, cleaned him up and let him rest on your bed, signaling your boyfriend to share a shower with you. The second the hot water impacted on your skin, the tiredness slowly washed away, your hands lacing behind his neck as you kissed him passionately, both enjoying the bit of intimacy after having someone else for the first time in your room.

“It wasn’t bad, I liked it, but I guess I like to have all of your attention on me.” His explanation made you laugh as you washed his hair.

“You didn’t look very unpleased at the beginning, though.” He raised an eyebrow. “My eyes were on you the whole time, dummy. Sadly, you didn’t quite notice.”

Blush spread on his cheeks, his hands holding your face before kissing you again. “Sorry.”

“I had a good time, but I would like to give you another birthday present.” You slowly dropped to your knees. “After all, you behaved exceptionally.”

YAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SNOOPY BOY. Of course this is hilarious because the whole scenario was based on paying attention to Seungyoun but that triggered Seungwoo’s dom side, y’know? So it good.

~Nani

unedited

[thedeaditeslayer]

Exclusive interview: Bruce Campbell is having a renaissance.

Here’s a highly recommended interview which discusses what Bruce Campbell has in store for fans in the future.

Bruce Campbell is experiencing a creative renaissance, of sorts. In a recent chat with the actor, he discussed a return to his horror roots, cutting a comedy album with Ted Raimi and so much more.

Bruce Campbell hasn’t been idle during his time in self-isolation. The actor has been experiencing a creative renaissance of sorts. So, we figured now would be a perfect time to reach out and get some of our burning questions answered.

With so much uncertainty in the entertainment industry at present, rumors are running rampant. We gave Campbell a chance to clear the air so to speak and address some of the myriad of questions that fans have regarding Mortal Kombat 11, the latest Evil Dead incarnation, Ripley’s and whether or not he will work with Sam Raimi in front of the camera again.

The actor also surprised us with some monumental news. He will be returning to his horror roots with the sequel to My Name Is Bruce as well as several other projects that he has on his docket including a comedy album with one of his closest friends.

Get comfy, grab your favorite beverage and let’s catch up with Bruce Campbell.

Mortal Kombat 11, Ripley’s and the State of the Industry

1428 Elm: Thanks for speaking with us, Bruce. It’s always a pleasure. We have so many things to discuss. Recently, a site came out and said that you were definitely going to be Ash in Mortal Kombat 11. It seemed like a done deal the way it was reported. Can you comment on that?

Bruce Campbell: I probably shouldn’t emphasize yes or no because I don’t know. I have not been told. If it is not through my agent or proper channels than it usually means its wishful thinking.

1428 Elm: Apparently, an email from Warner Brothers Interactive was sent to a well-known entertainment site and Ash as well as Army of Darkness was mentioned in it with the trademark from MGM.

BC: The reason why it may not happen, just so you and the readers can know this, a lot of time for legal purposes, that character cannot appear in other things because of the license. If you can’t make a deal, that character is not going to show up. So, we may have been talked to about it.

But I do know with MGM that handles the Army of Darkness licensing that they’re hasn’t been a discussion with them about it. They’re pretty touchy. We have to be careful of ownership.

I honestly don’t know. I think I would have heard something. It’s not like my agent books me without consulting with me.

Even if Mortal Kombat came to me and said they want to put me in it, you still have to make a deal. If my agent says, “Bruce Campbell wants a hundred billion dollars,” and then they say no, the deal is dead.

The answer is we don’t know. No point in beating around about that.

1428 Elm: You might not be able to discuss this but what’s going on with Ripley’s Believe It or Not!? Will there be a Season 2?

BC: We’re one and done. It’s not your father’s Travel Channel anymore. If I wanted to host a ghost hunting show, I’d be on the air right now.

Ripley’s was made for the older school Travel Channel like Drive-Ins and Dive Bars where you go to wacky places around the country. There is a big push for paranormal, mystery and science-fiction, Discovery type stuff. I think we just “out aged” ourselves.

1428 Elm: It would have been nice if the Science Channel would have picked it up.

BC: It’s all good. I remain philosophical about all shows that come and go. There are so many factors involved. You change executives and things change, companies get bought and sold and things change, ratings aren’t what you expected…

After this virus, we’re going to see what shape the motion picture industry is in. It’s going to be a wounded beast. Projects are going to go away.

You’re going to have fewer tentpole movies too. I am hopeful we’ll have a return to low budget filmmaking.

That’s what I hope comes out of it. Each studio will start a low budget division and spend the money wisely.

Number One on the Charts with a Bullet

BC (Cont.): In the meantime, what is nice, I’m finishing up a couple of projects. I’m hoping by the end of the year to put a book of essays out and a comedy album with Ted Raimi.

1428 Elm: A comedy album?

BC: Yeah, we finished it. I’m in post-production on it. I’m putting all the sound effects in now.

1428 Elm: That sounds great!

BC: Who knows? We’ve never done one before so we’re going to find out.

1428 Elm: So, you guys are harkening back to the 1960’s when comedians like Bob Newhart had hit albums?

BC: It’s our version of that. I used to listen to the top comedy albums during the 60’s and 70’s. I wouldn’t dare compare myself to any of the masters like Mel Brooks and the 2,000-Year-Old Man with Carl Reiner. We gave it a shot. I love audio and I like radio plays.

Bruce Campbell vs the Classic Monsters

1428 Elm: So, tell us what is going on with your political satire, House Divided. Are you still working on pitching that once everything gets back to business as usual?

BC: It will be on the sales block. It’s a harder sell. There’s no blood. It’s not a horror movie, it’s a political satire. Associating Bruce Campbell with political satire isn’t the first thing investors whip out their checkbooks for.

To combat that, I just finished writing a sequel to My Name Is Bruce. The idea is we want to take Bruce and have him go through each of the classic film monsters. The sequel is Bruce vs Frankenstein.

We’re done. I finished my draft and sent it to Mike Richardson, my partner at Dark Horse Comics. We’re actively looking for money on that one. It is the Expendables of Horror. I fully intend to load the cast with so many familiar horror faces. It should be a lot of fun.

It would be a cavalcade of genre stars, old, young, on TV now. We really want to cover the bases. A lot of people will be getting killed. Guest star kills. Basically, Bruce bumbles his way into being a hero.

1428 Elm: Will you have to go through Universal to get permission to use the classic monsters?

BC: Some stuff is public domain. I’m not a lawyer but we would figure out a way to do this.

I think the bolts on Frankenstein’s neck are trademarked, as well as certain looks. But you can make a Frankenstein. That story is under public domain.

It’s also a parody of a Frankenstein movie and that gives a lot of leeway legally as well. I don’t think you can say, “Wolfman,” but I think you can say Bruce vs the Werewolf. This is my version of the Bob Hope road movies.

Ted has two parts; I have two parts for Robert Englund and I have a couple of parts for Kane Hodder. If they’re a name, I am going to put them in it.

After we come out of the zombie apocalypse that we’re in and everyone gets back to work, that is what I will be actively pitching. There’s plenty going on. So, I have been self-isolating in a constructive way.

It’s an Evil Dead World

1428 Elm: We’re curious about the 1970’s period piece that you were working on when we talked to you last year. What happened with that?

BC: It’s currently on my action board. I will eventually get to it. I am going to finish my book of essays first and then I am going to get to that one.

The story is set in 1979. The idea behind it is what would have happened if us raising money for Evil Dead went horribly, horribly wrong. It becomes a horror movie in and of itself.

1428 Elm: How did this idea come to fruition?

BC: I was going through projects in my computer. People who have a lot of downtime do spring cleaning. Clean out your woodshed, toolshed when you have extra time. In this case, I went to the head of my projects folder.

This one popped up and it was just an outline that I had written 15 years ago. I thought, wait a minute, this is pretty well thought out.

In the 70’s, filmmaking was real, you didn’t have a lot of options. You had to get cameras from a certain place, you had to have insurance. There were a lot of steps that you had to take that made the process really difficult.

I remember making calls for money from payphones in blizzards and s*** like that. You had to leave messages, you’re getting busy signals, you’re not texting anyone. There are no computers, there’s no email, its old school. You sent things in the mail.

Today, filmmaking is not difficult. I can go to a store and buy a 4K camera. I can make a movie with $5,000 worth of equipment. Probably less.

1428 Elm: Well, you can do it on your phone too. Sam Raimi is on Quibi now with 50 States of Fright, which is entertainment tailored to your device. If his series continues once everything settles, do you think there’s a chance you might appear on the show?

BC: Never say never, that’s all verbally at this point. They have to succeed; they have to survive. Any new format, any new platform, I’m game and if Sam’s involved all the more reason.

1428 Elm: Have you ever thought of doing anything like Quibi?

BC: Not yet. I’m used to writing 90-page screenplays with a three-act format. I can adapt anything too.

I was thinking the other day, I have a few screenplays that might be tough sells but maybe I might convert them to a fricking novel and put them out as books. There’s lots to do. I’ve got plenty going on.

1428 Elm: Has the current situation affected the new Evil Dead? We remember that you talked about possibly going into production at the end of this year. Is that pushed back like everything else?

BC: No, not really. It was so early in the stages that we can keep going. I just read the first official draft today. So, then we’ll give notes and additional writing will take place.

Then you have to budget the thing so you know how much money you need to raise and then you have to get the money. Nothing will stop any of that.

You can make calls for money, you can send the script to people, you can do budgets. The only thing that will be affected will be the actual start date. Which we didn’t know anyway. We may end up not being delayed at all.

Many thanks to Bruce Campbell for chatting with us.

[dweemeister]

Fanchon, the Cricket (1915)

Fanchon the Cricket* was a family affair for silent film actress Mary Pickford. When she passed away in 1979, she died thinking that the film – the only one to star herself and her two other siblings, Lottie and Jack – as lost to history. The survivability statistics on silent films is grim reading. In a 2013 study, the Library of Congress estimated that around seventy-five percent of all silent films are lost films. One wonders how overjoyed the folks at the Mary Pickford Foundation, which assists with film preservation efforts and has archived various Pickford-related materials for research purposes, must have felt when they learned in 2012 that the Cinémathèque Française unearthed a print of Fanchon the Cricket. In a six-year, cross-Atlantic collaboration, the Pickford Foundation, Cinémathèque Française, the British Film Institute (BFI; which possessed an incomplete and quickly degrading nitrate print), and L'Immagine Ritrovata (Bologna) restored the print and scanned it in 4K. The restoration is stunning, even if Fanchon the Cricket, as a film, is rough in its craft.

Directed by James Kirkwood (primarily an actor) and co-written by Kirkwood and Frances Marion (1930’s The Big House, 1931’s The Champ) and distributed by Famous Players Film Company (in 1916, this studio would merge with the Lasky Company to become the studio now known as Paramount), Fanchon the Cricket is based on George Sand’s novel La Petite Fadette. Mary Pickford is Fanchon, an uninhibited waif (yet another one of Pickford’s numerous young waif characters) that cares not for the judgments and trappings of society. She lives in the woods with her grandmother (Gertrude Norman), whom the townspeople rumor to be a witch (her appearance, attire, and behavior are only inflaming the rumors). During a May Day picnic, Fanchon saves a young man named Landry Barbeau (Jack Standing), the son of a prosperous local businessman (Russell Bassett), from drowning. In the aftermath, the two find themselves smitten over each other. Landry offers marriage, despite his parents’ preference for the straitlaced Madelon (Lottie Pickford), but Fanchon declines. Realizing the familial strife that might occur in such an arrangement, Fanchon will not marry Landry unless his father approves and asks her to.

Without much soft lighting to brighten up one of the most luminous faces of silent film (there are mostly shots outdoors in this movie), Mary Pickford’s physical acting draws in the viewer in every frame she occupies. Pickford’s movements through the forests and thick grass resemble a being at home in nature – why be concerned over mud and pesky insects? Compared to the weighty, measured movements of her town-dwelling co-stars, she flits and skips without much regard for anyone else she encounters. Her mannerisms, as Fanchon, also reflect a complete lack of socialization. When witnessing the silliness of other people, she never hides how she feels, whether that is amusement or annoyance. Only after Fanchon’s brief courtship with Landry do we see that remarkable nuanced dramatic acting Pickford was capable of. In those moments where Fanchon steps out of her childhood for the first time, we see the inklings of her self-realization of the responsibility and affection for others. Fanchon never stops being the wild girl of the woods but, for precious moments in this film, she becomes a young woman who allows herself to love. The transformation, partial though it may be, is convincing, and that is all thanks to Mary Pickford’s brilliant performance.

Shot on location in Delaware Gap, Pennsylvania in an era before the relocation of all major American movie studios to Hollywood (and when a significant amount of major studio filmmaking was still taking place on the Atlantic coast of the U.S.), the environs surrounding the characters features dense foliage and placid creeks and rivers. Fanchon the Cricket, set in either late 18th or early 19th century America, inhabits a space where the young nation was still mostly undeveloped nature. Cinematographer Edward Wynard (the personal cinematographer of actress Norma Talmadge) photographs the action lushly, and the natural outdoors lighting almost makes the sprawling meadows and rippling waterways a dreamscape. Even if the production design might seem too artificial, the natural surroundings make Fanchon’s deep forest shack and small town-yet-posh backwoods America a believable, specific place in time.

At a period of film history when filmmakers were still experimenting in narrative form and how to interweave themes throughout a film, Fanchon the Cricket has too many subplots that never satisfactorily resolve or are too tangentially related to the central plot. Kirkwood and Marion’s scenario, despite showering attention on some of the supporting characters, never lend enough depth to anyone outside of Fanchon and Landry to make them anything but caricatures. The unnecessary bloat makes the films one-and-a-quarter-hour runtime (this is based on the speed of the Pickford Foundation/ Cinémathèque Française/BFI/ L'Immagine Ritrovata restoration; Fanchon the Cricket is a 5-reeler) seem longer than it should be.

The recent restoration of Fanchon the Cricket comes with a modern soundtrack by Julian Ducatenzeiler and Andy Gladbach that is based in twenty-first century folk rock. This mixture – of early American setting and modern music – is disruptive and jarring. As much as Ducanteziler and Gladbach attempt to mirror the film’s sylvan scenery through their orchestration and modern melodic progressions, the disconnect between the film and their score also extends to the emotional journey that Fanchon takes on-screen. Personally, I prefer a simple piano, organ, or small ensemble score for silent film re-releases (most silent films, when they were first released, were accompanied by these instruments). I am no opponent of using anachronistic musical instruments and melodic and harmonic phrasing for re-released silent films (sci-fi and fantasy silent films might benefit from these most). But composers for such projects should heed what the filmmakers were trying to create – including the setting and the emotional textures of their film. Ducanteziler and Gladbach, in this restoration of Fanchon the Cricket, have not done their due musical diligence.  

Lottie and Jack Pickford led markedly different lives than their sister – who would go on to co-found United Artists (UA) with Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks, and D.W. Griffith and a founding member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS). As the least known of the trio, Lottie’s acting career was already on the downswing (by choice) upon Fanchon the Cricket’s theatrical release. Lottie was a socialite, whose passion was to party, experiencing joie de vivre to a maximalist extent. Slightly more established as an actor than Lottie but not as much as Mary, Jack Pickford was a primary figure in a scandal where rich young men drafted by the military would dole out bribes to avoid military service in World War I. Like Lottie, he too was consumed by a socialite’s lifestyle, leading to a life of alcoholism and drug addiction for both.

Moviegoers in the mid-1910s adored Pickford in her most common roles as children and waifs. The year after Fanchon the Cricket, Pickford signed a lucrative deal with Famous Players’ Adolph Zukor that gave her the foremost authority on the films she worked for. In early Hollywood, so strongly associated with movie moguls like Zukor, Mack Sennett (Keystone Studios), Carl Laemmle (Universal), and others, Pickford’s deal was an outlier. The authority she assumed on her productions was a refreshing development for Pickford in an industry filled with stories of interference from the top studio executives. These experiences making films on this new contract helped inspire the formation of United Artists three years later. UA’s creation was a clear statement of Pickford’s desire to foster the talents of herself and others as filmmakers – something that she would continue to champion for decades to come.

The Pickford Foundation/Cinémathèque Française/BFI/L'Immagine Ritrovata restoration is wonderful to behold. The tinting in the restoration was based off the notes found with the BFI nitrate print – making this cross-Atlantic restoration the closest lucky modern viewers might ever get to watching Fanchon the Cricket the way James Kirkwood originally intended. For silent film fans and especially those who want to see the works of one of the most important actresses of all time, this restoration of a complete Fanchon the Cricket is a fortuitous gift.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* Promotional materials for the film include and exclude a comma between “Fanchon” and “the”. I use the comma in the title of the review but, to save extra typing, I’ve omitted the comma in the body of the review.

[dreamgirl4certain]

The Elevator Bae

Chapter TWO.

ONE

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

Word Count: 4k. || Song Suggestions: Yuna ft. Usher x Crush

A/N: Sorry for any mistakes. I skimmed through this while at work. Shoutout to everyone that told me you liked this story. It gave me the extra push to finish this chapter. 

It’s been a little over a week since the last time Phoenix seen Erik on the elevator. Everyday since she found out his name, she would wait at the elevator, hoping that when those big doors slid open, Erik would be waiting on the other side. But for 9 days, nothing. She found herself disappointed every time. She would beat herself up about being disappointed. This man didn’t know her and was probably not thinking about her at all. But, each time, without fail, she still would think about him. Where he was and when she’ll see him again. Regardless if she never seen him again, he definitely inspired some good music.

Phoenix was getting ready for a studio session. Studio sessions were usually a chill environment for Phoenix. She never allowed too many people to be around. To work with her, there was no rowdiness allowed in her sessions. Most people respected that. She was a vibe and her space always reflected that. She had a routine to prepare herself for her sessions. She placed her signature royal blue BEATS headphones on and played her ‘Blue’s Magic’ playlist. As she’s bobbing her head to the beat, eyes closed, her phone buzzes with a text. Her engineering friend, Coby, texted her.

DJ Coby: Hey, what time will be pulling up? Someone’s here to see you.

Phoenix was confused. Who in the hell would be at the studio to see her.

Phoenix: Hey. I’m getting ready now. I should be there around 9. Who there?

Coby responded quickly.

DJ Coby: Sza

Phoenix: Nigga! You lying to me!

DJ Coby: lol dead ass. Hurry up. She said she needs to work with you.

Phoenix: I'm coming!!!

Sza was one of her favorite artists. CTRL was probably the album of her life. She practically ran to her room to get dressed. She changed into a heather grey biker short and T-Shirt set. Those were her favorite fits to wear. Cute but comfortable. Phoenix was all about comfort. Sliding her feet into some rainbow Nike Vapormax. She opted to let her curls just be. She didn’t have time to figure that out. Sza was waiting for her. She couldn’t keep her waiting too long. Placing her BEATS around her neck and grabbing her keys, she books it out the door.

Of course! The elevator is taking forever and a day. Phoenix is tapping her foot, anxious to get to the studio.

DING.

When the doors open, she rushes in. Going to push Ground Level, but it’s already glowing green. She releases a breath that she didn’t even realize she was holding. A weight lifted from her.

“Hey, Phoenix.”

She didn’t even notice that someone else was already in the cabin with her. Turning to see who it is, her heart damn near stopped.

“Hey...Erik.”

His smile made those infamous butterflies find their long lost home in her again. She had been preparing to see him. But, when she’s not even thinking about him, he shows up. Looking damn good at that. Black jeans with rips at the knees, a plain white V neck tee and black and red Jordan 1’s. He flashes that God forsaken smile at her.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile.” he says.

“Yeah. You’ve been missing.”

“You were looking for me?”

Yes, she was.  “I didn’t say that.”

“I was looking for you though.”

Her face goes completely red and she couldn’t hide the dorky smile she had if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to.

“Here I am.”

The elevator stops and the doors begin to open. Erik steps forward, standing between the now fully open doors. His body blocks half of the exit out. He holds his hand into the parking garage.

“Ladies first.”

Phoenix starts to walk out when her shoulder brushes against his chest. This man was SOLID! She stops and looks up at him and of course he’s already smiling at her. She playfully shakes her head at him and continues her way out.

“Have a good night, Phoenix.” He dragged her name. Was he doing this on purpose? She stops and turns to him, flashing her own smile.

“You too, Erik.”

Dragging his name they way he did hers. This time, she stood there to see how he would react. He licks his lips slowly like he knew what it would do to her. She watched him closely and her face went blank as she stared at his mouth.

“Don’t make me look for you again.”

“You don’t go missing again.”

They share another smile. Phoenix had reached her limit with him. There was no way that she could let him say anything else to her without jellylegs happening so she turned on her heels and headed to her car. Eriks stood firm in his place, watching her. She started her car and pulled out from her park and as she did, he waved at her. She watched him in her rear view mirror. He waited there until she turned out onto the road.

-------

Sza was everything Phoenix imagined her to be, plus more. Their session was like two old friends catching up. They meshed well together with their personalities and with the music. Phoenix shared some hooks she wrote and they made nothing short of magic. They both danced around the studio as the two songs they made, played on repeat. Coby recorded them on his Instagram.

“All we make is hits!” he said into the camera.

“We need a pic for the gram.” Sza says to Phoenix.

They pose up and Coby doesn’t fail to make sure they got the right shot.

“Ohhh, we cute.” Phoenix says. “Send that to me now.”

They all chill back onto the large couch in the studio.

“So, girl… who are these hooks about?” Sza ask.

Phoenix looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Nobody.”

“You giving me this feeling…” Sza sings a line from the hook Phoenix wrote. “Somebody is giving you a feeling, sis.”

“No, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Coby asks.

“It’s just like a crush. Nothing serious at all.”

“Ohhh you got a crush. Who is it?” Sza says pinching at Phoenix’s arm.

“Oh my goodness.” Phoenix covers her blushing face.

“She’s blushing! Who is it?”

“He’s nobody.”

“I have never heard of a nobody making a nigga blush as hard as you blushing right now. Your face looking like a grape tomato.” Coby laughs.

Phoenix cuts her eyes at him, trying so hard to look serious but he’s right. She can’t stop herself from smiling, thinking about her ‘crush’.

“He’s just a guy that lives in my building. We met on the elevator.”

“You got me singing about your elevator bae?”

Phoenix lets out a huge sigh. “I’m not telling y’all nothing else.”

Sza and Coby laugh her off. Coby looks at his phone. “Yo, it’s almost 6am.”

“Damn!”

They wrap up their session. Sza and Phoenix hug and say their goodbyes. Sza gives Phoenix her personal number so they could link again.

----

It’s a little after 6am when Phoenix finally gets back home. Parking her car, she drags her body to the elevator, waiting for it to come. When it reaches the parking garage and the doors open, Phoenix comes face to face with her neighbor from a few floors up, Sydney. She’s a beautiful woman that one could consider an ‘Instagirl’. Her body was amazing and she always had a slayed wig. Sydney was never caught without a designer bag. Even this early in the morning, she was sporting a 28in black wig, a PINK tracksuit and chanel bag.

“Good Morning, Philly.”

Ava was usually the only person to call Phoenix the nickname but Phoenix never protested when other called her that. Plus, it was too damn late/early for all of that.

“Morning, Syd.”

Sydney steps out of the elevator. “You had a long night?”

“Yeah. I was in the studio.”

“Damn girl and you’re just getting home?”

Phoenix nods her head. She wasn’t really in the mood to be talking to her. Sydney just kept talking and Phoenix was so caught up in pretending to be listening that the elevator doors closed.

“Shit.” She hits the button hoping the doors would just open but now it was that the cabin is already going up.

“Damn girl, I’m sorry. I’ll wait with you.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes. Her sleepy is now hitting her hard and the last thing she wants to do is listen to Sydney talk.

The elevator took forever coming back down. Phoenix had ran out of patience.

DING.

When the doors open, Erik is standing there with full workout gear on. Seeing him, made Phoenix perk up.

“Morning ladies.”

“Morn--”

“Good Morning, Erik!” Sydney says with enthusiasm, voice powering over Phoenix’s. “You’re about to work out?”

“Yeah.”

“How long are you about to be doing that?”

He shrugs. “Couple hours. Why?”

“You should come through when you’re done?”

That’s it. Phoenix had heard enough. She steps around them and get into the elevator. Hitting her floor number, the doors start to close but not before hearing Erik tell Sydney, “Alright. I’ll let you know.”

She would be lying if she said that didn’t crush her. Her hands instantly became hot and her chest was heavy. The thought of them ‘linking up’ made her pissed. She didn’t think she had a right to be pissed. He was just a crush, not her man. Hell, she didn’t even know the man’s last name.

Finally making it to her apartment, she closed all of the shades. Her apartment has floor to ceiling windows and she wanted all sunlight blocked. Her exhaustion seem to take over her body and she only made it out of her shoes before crashing on her bed and going deep into her sleep.

------

When she woke, it was well into the afternoon. A shower melted away all of her tension. Phoenix relaxed herself more with a well needed yoga session in her living room. She had plans to take a few days to herself but first she needed to do some grocery shopping to replace all of her snacks. Phoenix made her way to the store and to the farmers market. Stacking up on all of the food she needed to make her mini staycation at home, a good one.

Her day was going pretty smooth. She hadn’t even thought about the mornings situation with Erik and Sydney. She made her way through the parking garage and luckily she was able to get a spot close to the elevator. Phoenix stacked all of her grocery bags on one arm. She refused to take more than one trip. As she is closing her trunk, the elevator doors open. Looking up, she sees Sydney walking out, smiling and Erik right behind her. She stood back so they wouldn’t see her and she watched as they talked and laughed toward his car. She watched as he opened the passenger door for her and walked around and getting in, himself. She tried to hurry up and make to the elevators before he drove around. But the doors took a bit longer than she expected to open. Erik’s car drove passed her just as she was stepping into the cabin. He stopped by the doors and rolled his window down. Before he could say anything, the elevator doors closed and Phoenix’s stomach dropped to the floor with her bags.

She could feel her anxiety coming through her chest. The negative thoughts rushed her brain before she could even try to stop them. She felt stupid for crushing on a guy like Erik. Phoenix was a very chill, laid back kind of girl. Sydney was the definition of a ‘Girly girl’ and she wasn’t afraid to show off what she had. Phoenix’s brain went a million miles a minute. Of course, she’s his type, she thought.

As she reached her floor, she struggled to gather up the bags that fell to the floor. When the doors opened, her neighbor from across the hall, Mya was waiting.

“I got you, girl.”  Mya says. She helped Phoenix with her bags without a second thought.

“Thank You so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You know I know the struggle.”

Mya follows Phoenix into her place, dropping the bags off in the kitchen. Phoenix goes through one of the bags, pulling out a Kombucha and giving it to Mya.

“Here. This is my thank you since you won’t let me say it.”

“Now this is something I’ll take. Thanks girl.” Mya smiles and leaves out.

Phoenix leaves her groceries on the counter and sits on her couch. She had to admit her feelings were hurt. She wasn’t fully sure as to why but they were. She sat there for a moment, letting herself process the bullshit as much as she could before turning on some music and putting away her groceries. Just when she thought her mind was free, Yuna x Crush started playing through her speakers.

“Damn God, can you chill? I don’t need this.” She goes to pick up her phone that she left on the couch to change the song and sees that she has a bunch of notifications from her Instagram. She clicks the app and she’s tagged in a pic by Sza. It was the pic they took at the studio with the caption.

So much love for my girl @DJPhoenixBlue. This album is about to be amazing.

HER ALBUM?! To be a producer on Sza’s album would be a huge step for Phoenix. That post made her page blow up. She had gained at least another 3,000 followers. People were showing her so much love on her pics and videos. She clicked back on the picture and commented

Love you boo! More hits coming soon!

That made her feel so much better. Erik slipped from her mind in that moment. She let the music continue to play through her speaker and she danced around her living room until a phone call paused the music. It was her manager, Alyssa..

“Lyssaaaa, what’s up?”

“Hey, Phoenix. I have some good news.”

Phoenix patiently waits for Alyssa to continue.

“You’ve been requested to DJ at a party next week. The promoters are offering to pay you double your rates.”

“Double? Who the party for?”

“It’s the grand opening of that new club, X down in Hollywood. A lot of big names will be there.”

“Hell yeah! I wanna do it.”

“Okay, great! I’ll let them know. Also, a few labels have been watching you. I’m setting up a meeting for this Friday for you to meet them. This is could be big for you.”

Phoenix is being hit with so much good news she can’t even contain herself. She’s bouncing on her feet.

“Okay! Just let me know where and what time and I’m there.”

“Cool. I’ll keep you posted. Enjoy your days off.”

Phoenix hung up, squealing. All of her dreams are slowly but surely manifesting right before her eyes. The rest of her evening was spent eating a pizza that she ordered and finally catching up on all of her shows. She sat on her couch, wrapped like a burrito in her weighted blanket, struggling hard to keep her eyes open.

A hand snakes around Phoenix’s waist. She bit her lip at the warmth and released a small moan. She laid her head back onto the large chest behind her. He trailed wet kissed up her shoulder and neck until he reached her cheek. She turned her head to him and he smiled.

“Lay down.” He said.

She followed his orders. His shirtless body stood over her. He snatched her panties off quickly and his head disappeared between her thighs.

Closing her eyes, “Fuck Erik! That’s feels good.”

Tags: @purple-apricots @abeautifulmindexposed @lostennyc **If anyone would like to be tagged, let me know :)

[hydrus]

Version 381

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.gz

source

tar.gz

I had a good week with a couple of challenges. MPV is now ready for all windows users and is turned on by default.

MPV

Thank you to the advanced users who tested and gave feedback on MPV. I have eliminated the crashes, tightened up the jank, and am now rolling it out to all Windows users by default for video, audio, and gif/apng. All media view settings under options->media will be reset this week.

MPV is a good free media viewer. One of the core benefits of moving hydrus to Qt was being able to plug it into our media player, enabling hardware-accelerated video playback and audio. It looks just like the native player, with the seek bar beneath, but it works much faster, able to play 1080p or 4k videos at 60fps at full or unusual zooms. And of course, it makes noise!

This is early days. I have only just started plugging into MPV, so many features are basic or not yet available. The global volume and mute controls are currently some very ugly controls in the top media hover panel. Slideshows will not move forward on an MPV window (hydrus doesn't know when an MPV player has 'played once through' yet), and some processes like the archive/delete filter will need some extra workflow options now that more users will be playing videos at high res (left-click on the player pauses the video, so to set 'keep' on archive/delete, you'll have to click on some whitespace, of which there is so much less when the video is so big). Please let me know what your top priorities for improvement are, and of course, if you encounter errors or crashes, let me know. I'll keep working.

Even though it was a lot of difficult work, I am overall really pleased with how this has gone. The only big remaining bug that I need to nail down is an unusual thing where after multiple mpv viewings in a preview window, that page will stutter some query/thumbnail loading unless the mouse is moving. This is a slightly frustrating bug, but the benefits of MPV are enough that I am happy to live with it. I will also get it going for Linux and macOS, which I did not have time for this week.

the rest

Assuming that users will want to set/unset MPV and other view/zoom options for filetypes in the coming weeks, I have reworked how all of that works under ''options->media''. By default, you now set view and zoom options for 'all video files' and 'all images', and then if you have specific options for just webms or pngs, you can set those specific options to override the group default. Every user will be reset to the new defaults on update. Please have a play with this this week.

Similarly, I have reworked the UI for system:filetype. The growing list of individual filetypes are now hidden from view when not needed, and the 'group' types have tristate checkboxes for better review. It takes up less space and just feels better.

Also, I have pulled gifs and apngs out of the 'image' group and created a specific 'animation' group for them. This doesn't change much, but it makes it easier to search for or manage settings for static images vs little animations.

I fixed a bunch of the weird layouts that were accidentally introduced last week. Please report any more you find--I am still fighting to convert old wx layout code to Qt's system, so this could happen again in a place I do not notice.

full list

mpv:

mpv is now available and the default for all windows users

I believed I have eliminated the final reported mpv crash

mpv load and unload delays are greatly reduced. initial load still takes about half a second, but subsequent loads are now as quick as native renderers

mpv seems to work well for gif and apng

added a very simple global volume slider and audio mute checkbox to the media viewer top hover window. this was a quick patch--much better controls and shortcuts will come in future

mpv windows now properly re-show the cursor on mouse movement

unified mpv mouse press/release handling with native animation--click down now does pause/play and starts a drag event

unfortunately, in some cases embedding mpv requires overriding local OS number rendering (e.g. 1,234 vs 1.234). hydrus number rendering is now coerced to the english style with commas until we can figure out a better solution--sorry!

cleared up an issue where simple clicks on page tabs would trigger micro-page drags that were immediately cancelled. this situation was exacerbated when the page being left had an active mpv window. the flicker of page drag cursor is now gone, and some weird situations where static clicks during busy time could move a tab should be fixed

eliminated the recent issue in the media viewer where transitioning from one media type to another through navigation, particularly mpv->other, would flicker a single frame of the last 'other' media shown(!)

fixed a bug where repeated mpv views in the preview viewer could disable client file drag and drop

the bug where thumbnails may not waterfall in unless the mouse is moving after some mpv videos are loaded for a page is relieved but not completely fixed

if the preview window is collapsed and hidden, media will no longer ever load into it

fixed an edge-case bug where the mpv window would not like being told to show nothing when it was already showing nothing

wrapped mpv load errors in a basic graceful catch

fixed an issue some users had with loading mpv's dll

.

file types:

a new file metatype, 'animation', is added, for gif and apng. these are no longer considered 'image' for a variety of purposes

the filetype selection panel, which is used in system:filetype and import folder UI, has had an overhaul--it now has tristate 'mime group' checkboxes to represent a half-filled group and expand/collapse buttons to hide the tall filetype lists. individual filetype lists will start hidden unless their default value is a partially filled group

the media view options have a similar overhaul: they are now collapsed to general filetypes by default. you set view and zoom options for the generalised 'video' type under options->media, and if you want to set specific options for webm or anything else, you can add/delete those types to override the general default

the new default options for a fresh client are just for these general types. if mpv is available, video, animations, and audio now start with mpv as the default viewer. video and animation zoom is now flexible (not fixed to 50%, 100%, 200%) and will fill the media canvas

all media view options will be reset to this simple default on update! if you have specific zoom or display preferences, please reset them after the update--but you might like to play with mpv a bit first, as it renders at large and smooth zooms very well

.

the rest:

the new thumbnail right-click file selection routine will now only focus and scroll to the first member of the selection if no other members of the new selection are already in view

fixed some caching code and sped up the new select/remove menu count generation (which can lag for very large pages) by two to six times

sped up file filter counting code by about ten percent

fixed weird layout on: migrate database panel, duplicates page (left and right), edit shortcuts, edit import folder, and the filename tagging panel

fixed an issue where the media viewer's hover windows might flicker into view for one frame when the mouse moved over the center of the media viewer for the first time

fixed a media viewer shutdown issue that would sometimes lead to the first file in the list being opened in the shutting-down viewer for an instant or highlighted as the new thumb focus

the file maintenance system that queues up missing/broken files' urls for redownload will no longer re-select the download page on every new url

fixed an issue where a downloader's tag blacklist was not being applied on the child files of certain kinds of multiple-file post (such as with pixiv)

deleting a very long tag should no longer create a very wide confirmation dialog in the manage tags dialog

fixed some 'the panel grew a bit, but the parent window didn't grow quite enough and now it has scrollbars for two pixels of extra content' sizing issues

fixed some dialog sizing calculations when the parent window was borderless fullscreen

maybe fixed a rare event processing bug

improved quality of some misc data comparison code across the program

did some significant backend event/pubsub code cleanup, mostly related to getting mpv working a bit cleaner

improved thumbnail rendering time

improved smoothness of thumbnail fade animations (at least for when they are working right, ha ha!)

misc fixes

next week

Unfortunately, I believe that I burned out over the past four to eight weeks. I have been pushing too hard, trying and failing to keep up with my promises, and along with some IRL stuff it nuked my schedule and energy and mood. It hit a breaking point this week, and I realised I was working non-sustainably. I will fix this situation in the coming weeks by altering my schedule. I expect to scale back on overall work hours and hydrus changelog work specifically, focusing instead on keeping myself healthy first so I can face other work (like keeping up with messages and maintaining a productive workspace) and not go nuts. I will also try to promise less when it comes to timeframes so I do not feel bound to stay up late working. I apologise if you have been waiting on me for something--I lost where I was.

I would like to do some more mpv work next week, and do some code cleaning. I will also be taking a bit of time off, so it will be a light week. Thanks everyone!

EDIT: If you have trouble loading mpv, please use the new easy settings under options->media to go back to the native viewer for the main filetypes, and let me know your situation. Some users with millions of files over a network share seem to have very slow startup.

[charger-batteries]

Acer ConceptD 7 Ezel Review

Acer's ConceptD 7 Ezel (starts at $2,499; $3,999 as tested) might be the most radical convertible laptop on the market.  Aimed at pen-savvy creators, designers, and engineers, this 15.6-inch hybrid's gorgeous UHD/4K touch screen flips into many different positions thanks to a unique hinge design, making it more versatile than traditional convertibles with 360-degree hinges. It also offers a Wacom EMR pen for a natural inking experience. Like the smaller ConceptD 3 Ezel, the ConceptD 7 Ezel is a slam dunk for those able to leverage its uniqueness, as there's nothing else quite like it. Just be prepared to get equally creative with your finances to afford it.

A Unique Concept(D)

The ConceptD 7 Ezel's uniqueness starts with its marriage of desktop-class power to a large 15.6-inch pen-enabled screen. My review unit, model CC715-71-7163, has the same grade of components found in a top-shelf gaming notebook, such as the Razer Blade 15 Advanced (2020). Inside is an eight-core Intel Core i7-10875H processor (2.3GHz base, up to 5.1GHz turbo), an 8GB Nvidia GeForce RTX 2080 Super Max-Q graphics card, 32GB of memory, and a 2TB solid-state drive. The Windows 10 Pro system carries a one-year warranty, which strikes me as skimpy for $3,999.

The only convertible that offers remotely similar performance is the HP Spectre x360 15 (2020), priced at $1,649 at this writing with a six-core Core i7-10750H, a 4GB GeForce GTX 1650 Ti Max-Q, 16GB of RAM, and a 1TB SSD. That's a lot less than the base $2,499 ConceptD 7 Ezel, which matches the HP's specs except for a more powerful 6GB GeForce RTX 2060. That said, the comparison is purely for penny-pinching purposes; much of the ConceptD 7 Ezel's value comes from its design.

Versatile Usage Modes

The ConceptD 7 Ezel has a traditional display hinge that opens and closes clamshell style, but there's a second one halfway up the lid that allows the screen to rotate independently.

The display can be positioned at almost any angle and elevation by moving both hinges. It becomes a tablet with the screen rotated 180 degrees while the main hinge is folded flat, and by raising the main hinge, the screen can float as shown here …

The second hinge is stiff enough to keep the screen stationary for drawing or using the touch screen in this position. It also makes it possible to stand over the ConceptD 7 Ezel while doing so, an act that would require reaching several more inches with a traditional convertible that would be lying flat in tablet mode. A stand mode is also possible, which is like the photo below, but with the screen pressed down further so that it rests in front of the keyboard. The ConceptD lives up to its "easel" name in that position.

Last, it can operate in a display mode with its screen flipped over 180 degrees. It's a useful position if you're seated across the table from someone and wish to present something.

Creative Design Inspirations

The ConceptD 7 Ezel's white exterior may look like plastic, but it's metal; running a finger across it rewards with a high-pitched scratchy sound that plastic can't produce. The white comes from a ceramic coating that Acer claims is stain-resistant. I tested it by splashing dark roast coffee on the lid and letting it dry for a few hours. Sure enough, it wiped off without a trace.

At 1.13 by 14.1 by 10.2 inches (HWD), the ConceptD 7 Ezel is one chunky laptop considering today's relentless drive toward thin-and-light electronics, though it's not terribly overweight at 5.5 pounds. The display contributes most of the extra thickness; its base is of normal height for a notebook this powerful. All surfaces are satisfyingly flex-free.

The keyboard adds visual warmth with its atypical amber backlighting. Prettiness aside, the island-style keys unfortunately lack for tactile feedback, a casualty of their short vertical press distance.

The productive layout includes dedicated Home, Page Up, Page Down, and End keys. Only the arrow cluster is nonstandard, combining half-size up and down and full-size left and right keys. Below, the buttonless trackpad is just big enough. Its clicking action is slightly stiff but offers communicative, noiseless feedback. Meanwhile, the holes forward of the keyboard are for cooling, not for the speakers; the latter deliver unremarkable sound from under the palm rest.

Plenty of Input and Output

The ConceptD 7 Ezel offers Wi-Fi 6 and Bluetooth 5 wireless support, as you'd expect from a high-end laptop made in 2020. Its physical connectivity starts on the front edge with a full-size SD card reader, a nice break from the usual microSD slot.

The left edge holds a Kensington lock notch, a USB 3.2 Gen 1 Type-A port, two Thunderbolt 3 (USB Type-C) ports, and a headphone/microphone jack. Full-size HDMI and DisplayPort video outputs, another USB 3.2 Gen 1 Type-A port, and an Ethernet jack dot the right edge.

It's potentially inconvenient that most of the ports are located along the front half of each edge; connected devices can intrude on external mouse or elbow-resting space. The power jack's location at center right is also irksome—it should be further back to keep the cord out of the way—but at least the included adapter has a right-angle plug that doesn't stick out too far.

The power button, located on the left edge, doubles as a fingerprint reader for Windows Hello biometric logins. However, the ConceptD 7 Ezel has no IR webcam for facial recognition. Its average-quality 720p webcam also lacks a physical privacy shutter.

Legendary Inking: Wacom EMR Returns

The ConceptD 7 Ezel's best asset is its screen, a 15.6-inch IPS touch panel with detailed UHD/4K (3,840-by-2,160-pixel) resolution. Acer rates it for 350 nits of brightness and 100% coverage of the Adobe RGB gamut for eye-popping color. It looks great.

The ConceptD app provides controls for switching color spaces, including a native mode for those who plan to calibrate it themselves.

All I can discredit about the picture is its slight sparkle. It could be from the anti-glare surface treatment, a necessity given that the surface is glass (precisely, Corning Gorilla Glass 6) and would otherwise be reflection-prone.

The hard glass and the slight resistance from the anti-glare treatment provide an excellent pen-on-paper-like feel for inking with the ConceptD 7 Ezel's pen. Stashed in the right side of the display, it's slightly narrower than a normal ink pen and has two buttons. It never needs to be charged thanks to its Wacom EMR technology.

Wacom EMR, the oldest of the active pen technologies, is uncommon on convertible notebooks. It adds thickness since it requires an active digitizer to be built into the screen. By contrast, Wacom AES and N-Trig combine an active (powered) pen with a passive digitizer.

One of EMR's advantages is a long and responsive hover distance. The cursor appears when the pen is about three-quarters of an inch above the surface and moves perfectly in sync with the tip. With AES, the cursor lags since the tip's position isn't precisely known to the digitizer unless it's in contact with the display. EMR's tilt support, natural responsiveness to pen strokes, and up to 4,096 levels of pressure sensitivity are other key reasons to applaud the ConceptD's inking.

Testing the ConceptD 7 Ezel: Studio Power

The ConceptD 7 Ezel is a GeForce RTX Studio product, which means it packs enough performance for advanced creative tasks such as video editing. My unit's GeForce RTX 2080 Super Max-Q GPU is also capable of gaming, though its 4K screen resolution is too high to drive without lowering the detail settings in many newer titles. Its screen refresh rate is also just 60Hz, whereas even mid-grade gaming notebooks have 144Hz or higher.

Acer offers the ConceptD 7 Ezel Pro for those in search of professional Nvidia Quadro graphics and independent software vendor (ISV) certifications for popular apps. It's expensive; the top-end CC715-91P-X1XB model goes for $4,999 with a quad-core Xeon processor and a 16GB Quadro RTX 5000. But that sounds about right for a mobile workstation with those components.

For our benchmarks, I compared the ConceptD 7 Ezel to the following convertibles and high-performance notebooks...

The non-convertible HP ZBook Create G7 and MSI Creator 15 are thin-and-light creative laptops with GeForce-class graphics. Though they're not direct ConceptD 7 Ezel competitors, their overall performance should be similar.

Storage, Media, and CPU Tests

The ConceptD 7 Ezel started with an excellent 5,753-point showing in UL's PCMark 10, our general system performance assessment that simulates different real-world productivity and content-creation workflows. We informally look for high-performance PCs to post at least 4,000 points in that test. The Acer also did well in PCMark 8's storage subtest, though it didn't stand out from the others despite having two 1TB solid-state drives striped together in RAID 0 (they appear as a single drive in Windows).

Next up is a pair of CPU-crunching tests: Cinebench R15 stresses all available processor cores and threads while rendering a complex image, while in our Handbrake test, we transcode a 12-minute 4K video down to 1080p.

The higher clocks of the ZBook Create's Core i9 processor gave it a slight advantage over the ConceptD 7 Ezel in these tests. Predictably, those two and the eight-core MSI had no trouble leaving the six-core ConceptD 3 Ezel and Spectre x360 15 in the dust.

The final test in this section is photo editing. We use an early 2018 release of Adobe Photoshop Creative Cloud to apply 10 complex filters and effects to a standard JPEG image, timing each operation and adding up the totals. This test is not as CPU-focused as Cinebench or Handbrake, bringing the performance of the storage subsystem, memory, and GPU into play.

The ConceptD 7 Ezel finished with an impressively low time for a convertible laptop. The high 5.1GHz boost clock of its Core i7 chip and 32GB of memory are ideal for advanced Photoshop tasks.

Graphics Tests

Our first two benchmarks in this section measure the gaming performance potential of a PC. In UL's 3DMark, we run the Sky Diver (lightweight, capable of running on integrated graphics) and Fire Strike (more demanding, for high-end gaming PCs) subtests, both DirectX 11-based. Unigine Corp.'s Superposition is another gaming simulation that uses a different rendering engine to produce a complex 3D scene.

The ConceptD 7 Ezel's GeForce RTX 2080 Super Max-Q GPU gave it top scores in these tests, as it should have, though the ZBook Create G7 wasn't far behind with its RTX 2070 Max-Q.

For cooling, the ConceptD 7 Ezel relies on cooling fans that jet air out the sides and back of the chassis. They ran frequently and noticeably, especially during our benchmark runs. They did, however, keep the chassis cool top and bottom.

Battery Rundown Test

For our last benchmark, we measure a laptop's unplugged runtime while playing a locally stored video with screen brightness at 50 percent and audio volume at 100 percent. We use the notebook's energy-saving rather than balanced or other power profile where available, turn off Wi-Fi, and even disable keyboard backlighting to squeeze as much life as possible out of the system.

Eight hours of unplugged life from a convertible this powerful is impressive, especially considering its active digitizer; it's longer than we expect from gaming notebooks with similar components. It even outdid the much less powerful Spectre x360 15.

One of the Biggest, Baddest Convertibles Around

Acer's ConceptD 7 Ezel defies convention by combining the power of a top-shelf gaming laptop with a Wacom EMR-enabled screen. It's a blissful combination for designers and creators, though not one without compromise. This is one bulky device, and one that will set you back financially even in its base configuration. But for those willing to ante up, this one-of-a-kind convertible delivers an unparalleled creative experience.

[paulbenedictblog]

%news%

New Post has been published on %http://paulbenedictsgeneralstore.com%

News Google Stadia latency issues, value and library make it not worth the investment - The - The Washington Post

News

The Google Stadia felt esteem a miracle the moment I loaded Destiny onto a Google Pixel cell phone. Sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop, I became once tremulous to conception that I became once in a situation to stream my broken-down Hunter around in aesthetic 60 frames-per-second fight. On a cell phone!

Nonetheless moments are fleeting, and latency on Google Stadia — the time distinction between your finger pressing a button and the game reacting to it — lasts longer, and leaves a extra lasting impression. The truth is, it generally renders video games unplayable. The service can and would possibly perchance perchance seemingly enhance, and already has one day of the early evaluate length. Nonetheless that’s essentially the most most well-known distinction between purchasing Stadia and real investing in gaming hardware. Google is promoting a service — and services would possibly perchance moreover be unreliable.

When played on a browser or LCD 4K TV, horrendous latency plagued singleplayer and multiplayer video games, giving a cinematic game esteem Shadow of the Tomb Raider the texture of an avant garde college grad venture, replete with buggy, rapid cuts. Precision photography had been now not doable in Destiny 2. Even strolling in a straight line became once a command within the otherwise honest indie game Gylt, the console’s handiest unfamiliar title.

I would possibly perchance perchance silent stress that every body among this took issue while taking half in Stadia by the employ of the Chromecast Extremely, which comes filled with the Founder’s or Premiere Model consoles (that some obtained’t receive quickly ensuing from stream delays), or by map of Google’s possess Chrome browser.

On the cell phone, on the opposite hand, an fully various story emerges. Whereas taking half in Destiny 2 in 60 fps on a Google Pixel 3a XL over a WiFi connection, there became once nearly no blurriness and barely any latency. Barring just a few noticeable but rapid skips one day of play, the photography produced had been rapid and gripping on the cell phone’s 2160x1080 resolution show hide.

These tests had been conducted with my WiFi at home, which gave me anyplace from 45 to 55 Mbps obtain speeds, smartly above the 35 Mbps Google says would possibly perchance perchance silent give me 60 frames-per-second stream in 4K resolution. They had been also conducted on The Washington Put up’s Gigabit Ethernet and WiFi service. In all cases, the cell phone outperformed the abilities on browsers and TVs.

As of Monday night time, the service in my home was seriously higher, even despite the indisputable truth that gameplay silent experienced some order.

Sooner than open, Stadia warned reviewers that taking half in on a Chromecast Extremely at work is now not supported, as “Chromecast doesn't toughen WPA2-Endeavor networks. Stadia’s TV abilities with Chromecast is designed for home networks the attach the Stadia controller and Chromecast are on the the same Local Residence Network.”

On the opposite hand, our work tests that displayed heavy latency and enter inch had been performed on a Chrome browser by map of an Ethernet-wired notebook computer within the newsroom, as smartly as over the newsroom WiFi on the Pixel. A Stadia spokesperson acknowledged company networks would possibly perchance perchance now not play smartly with the service this present day.

“Corporate networks also are usually congested ensuing from a high quantity of job, which is counter-productive to increasing distinct you possess a soft gaming abilities the attach processing occurs in true time,” they added.

We examined six titles forward of Tuesday’s open: Destiny 2, Crimson Dreary Redemption 2, Mortal Kombat 11, Gylt and Kine. Destiny 2, a 2017 game, is Stadia’s open centerpiece, and the preferrred various game incorporated with the $9.99-a-month Stadia Pro subscription apart from closing-minute addition Samurai Shodown. In a closing-minute effort to procedure extra avid gamers, over the weekend Stadia announced that it could perchance be expanding its open lineup from 12 to 22 video games, reasonably just a few them over a year broken-down.

The worth of taking half in Destiny 2 on Stadia comes from Bungie’s horrible-saving characteristic, which allowed me to import my PlayStation 4 character into the Stadia version. Bigger than a novelty, it’s a helpful and efficient formulation to acquire up and grind out just a few ranges in low-stakes gameplay while using in a automobile. And that you just would possibly well even salvage in just a few multiplayer rounds from the comfort of your mattress.

The truth is, Stadia’s worth is at its top with a game esteem Destiny 2 — and truly no various open title we examined. Crimson Dreary’s taking pictures and Mortal Kombat’s ... smartly ... fight all functioned as expected, at least at any time when enter inch and streaming latency weren’t a controversy. Nonetheless they’re all otherwise the the same broken-down video games, real generally extra fuzzy and no more purposeful as they had been years ago.

Within the mean time, Stadia appears easiest suited for video games that assist persisted, gradual development, especially ones that enable for some horrible-platform aspects esteem Destiny 2′s cloud saves. Stadia works huge for the vogue of player who needs to register on their game one day of the day. There’s a limited more than a few of video games on Stadia that fit this bill. Essentially the most evident omission is Fortnite, arguably the enviornment’s most smartly-most well liked video game.

Fortnite and the original Name of Duty: Contemporary Warfare would had been two huge releases to showcase Stadia’s versatility. Whereas the Stadia isn’t supreme for aggressive play, the video games’ development methods don’t require high-level abilities. One clear, compelling employ case for a Stadia player is the capacity to growth in a Fortnite season pass from the neighborhood library’s computer.

One other disappointing discovery: Video games on the Stadia cease now not characteristic the graphical strategies supplied on PC releases. Gamers obtained’t be in a situation to toggle resolutions, visual or texture outcomes or frames per second. With regards to presentation, gamers are left at the mercy of developers and Google’s servers.

Reviewing Stadia as a service feels a little esteem reviewing YouTube. The boom material isn’t reasonably there yet, and the service isn’t huge both. Nonetheless this model is presented as an intentional more than a few.

“It’s a residing, breathing service,” Jack Buser, Stadia’s director for video games and industry construction, stressed out in an interview with The Put up. “The Stadia you conception on day one will consistently evolve over time. We’ll be adding original technology, original aspects, original video games. Over time, it’s going to develop, we’ll toughen extra monitors, in consequence of we’re now not limited. We’re truly in a situation to enhance the technology within our recordsdata services with out having the consumer obtain original hardware.”

Google promised to commit to Stadia, mentioning various successful products esteem Gmail and the Play Store to engender some faith. Nonetheless it surely’s also laborious to brush aside the literal digital graveyard of past Google efforts. A web page known as KilledByGoogle.com lists 156 services, 18 apps and 16 hardware suggestions scrapped by the firm.

So right here’s a four-phrase evaluate on the Premiere Model in 2019: It’s now not worth it. We are able to’t guarantee it’ll work smartly with your connection, given the wild variable instability we experienced at The Put up even with high-traipse broadband capabilities. As reported broadly, a host of promised aspects aren’t on hand at open.

The controller, for what it’s worth, is exceptional, a pleasure to retract. Nonetheless the triggers feel a little looser than they ought to be, and future Stadia users will potentially be higher off using any controllers they already possess.

Premiere Editions are silent on hand online for $129 which comes with a controller, a Chromecast Extremely ($69) and a 3-month subscription to Stadia Pro, which affords you Destiny 2 and Samurai Shodown totally free. Besides the Chromecast Extremely packed in with the sector, Stadia is playable on Pixel telephones and tablets working the Chrome running machine. Heaps of gadgets, esteem the iPhone, could be on hand later.

The varied video games esteem Crimson Dreary Redemption 2? You silent must lift them one by one, albeit at a lowered imprint. Crimson Dreary Redemption 2 is the finest title at open, but it’s over a year broken-down and silent sells at the open imprint of $60. It’s laborious to mediate the player who truly wanted to play Crimson Dreary Redemption 2 and lacked the property to play it a year ago, but who would pony up $129 to play it on Stadia this present day.

Stadia’s deplorable salvage admission to will open subsequent year, and it’s handiest then that Stadia’s beefy capacity could be seen: As a web storefront to salvage admission to essentially the most fresh video games straight away. There’s novelty and worth in that.

As Crimson Dreary 2′s open date became once moved up, I became once in a situation to salvage admission to the game on my Stadia app straight away. No downloads, no patches nor updates. I real jumped shapely into the game’s snowy introduction in lower than a minute. I silent keep in mind the hours it took to acquire the fashioned. By comparability, taking half within the game straight away in a browser feels esteem the future.

Stadia is definitely paving a original assemble of recordsdata toll road for gaming. My advice this present day is to dwell for your original lane except they cease that work.

Learn extra:

[kdfrqqg]

Of Course

Cas x Dean; with Sam

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Language, Smut, Destiel pairing

Summary: Cas and Dean lie next to each other while on the road but things don’t get physical until Sam catches the flu.

A/N: This is a pre-quel to Surprised. This has been in my idea box for way too long. And now it’s taunting me.  Also Movie Night was not written to follow this but it is very much in line with the story.

 Dean walked out from the bathroom at the motel Sam, Cas and him were staying at. He had grown custom to wearing pajama bottoms around the bunker and so he brought a few pair with him on the hunt this time. He propped himself on a few pillows to watch the late night news with Cas for a couple of minutes before the whiskey kicked in. He observed that Cas looked more constipated than normal sitting by himself at the table. “Hey Buddy, you ok over there?” Dean asked not expecting Cas to complain.

“It’s this chair, Dean. The bar hits my lower back and I am unable to sit comfortably.” Cas answered.

Dean thought about it for a second or two, and sighed, “Why don’t you kick your shoes off and grab that extra pair of flannel bottoms and you can lay in the empty spot next to me?” He suggested.

“Are you sure I wouldn’t bother you?” Cas questioned.

“Dude, you bother me all the time, how is this any different?” He responded.

Sam watched as his older brother danced around the subject and made jokes. Sam wasn’t blind, he knew when his brother liked someone and Dean really liked Cas even though he may never ever admit it.

Cas prepared himself for bed, having watched Dean repeatedly do it. He decided to lay on top of the sheets when he really wanted to feel the body heat of his hunter. “Just keep the volume down this time, I still need my four hours.” Dean chided.

Within a few minutes, Dean had turned on his side away from Cas and started to lightly snore. Cas turn the volume on low and turned the captions on. Throughout the night, Cas focused his gaze on the beautiful man he saved from hell. He wondered if Dean would ever feel the same way for him as he did. If his vessel was a female, he thought, they would probably already be together. Cas liked his vessel, it was strong and Jimmy sacrificed a lot for him. Even though he was now in heaven and he couldn’t just forget that and toss his vessel away for Dean. No, Dean would love me who I am or not at all, he asserted to himself.

The next evening of the hunt, Dean offered his empty side of his bed to the angel. Of course, the angel gracious accepted the offer. This went on for the course of the week. Neither, men touching just causally laying in the same bed.

Back at the bunker, Cas had his room back and there was no need to lay next to the one person who made his heart soar.

The hunts came and went. The bed arrangement stayed the same over the next few months when the guys were on the road. Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful for all that Cas has done for him and Sam so he just continued to extend the offer, until it was just second nature for the hunters. He even liked having Cas there beside him, sometimes he would pretend to be asleep and move closer to him just to feel his presence more. He really wanted to place his head on Cas’ chest and feel his heart beat but Sam was always there and he was never brave enough to do it in front of him.

Sam had caught the flu, but of course he was still working and he found a case, there were vamps terrorizing a small town. “Sammy! Cas and I, we got this! You’re sick and you need to rest.” He told his baby brother while taking his temperature.

“Well ok I guess I can always catch up on Netflix.” Sam gave in.

“You know what that means Cas?” He said asking but not expecting an answer. Cas shrugged, “We get to get a King size bed to stretch out on.”

Sam thought the comment was strange, why not just get two queens like normal and they both can have their own bed. He chose not to say anything.

Later that day, Dean knocked on Sam’s door. “Hey, how ya doing?” Dean inquired. He didn’t want to leave the bunker until Sam’s fever broke.

“Like death.” He coughed.

Dean sat on the bed and placed the back of his hand to his forehead. “Yeah, I can see that. I know we should have already left but still look awful man.” There was a silence in the air, Dean mumbled, “Umm… This seems like as good a time as any. Can I tell you something?” Dean asked.

Sam sat up a bit little more, anticipating what Dean was going to tell him. “Ok shoot.”

“This is kind of difficult to explain, but Cas and I have been friends for a long time and I, umm have,” he stopped to breathe and hesitated. “I have developed um, you know,” his confessed nervously, “I’ve, I’ve developed feelings for him,” he chuckled never really admitting it out loud. “Like the romantic kind.”  Sam knew to be patient with Dean since he was never good at expressing himself. He purposely didn’t interrupt and didn’t make a lot of facial expressions to scare him. But he couldn’t help but flash Dean a huge dimple ridden grin when Dean told him. “Sammy, I want to be with him.”

Sam started to cough; he had forgotten he was sick for a moment, “Dean, that’s great news! Are planning on telling him while you guys are away?”

“Maybe, if I don’t chicken out. So you are ok with this?” Dean questioned.

“Yes, Dean.” Sam smiled and continued, “I have known for a long time that you two liked each other.”

“Have I been that obvious?”

“Ah yeah, you both have.” Sam’s chuckle turned into a large cough.

“Here, here.” Dean said handing Sam the glass of water of the table. Sam stopped coughing and sank back down in the bed. “Thanks Sam, I just wanted you to know in case things go well or bad.”

Dean got up off the bed and moved to the door. “Dean,” Sam called out making him turn around, “things will go well if you tell him what you just told me.”

Sam was relieved that Dean finally confirmed what he already knew for so long. He knew that when Cas was around, Dean was softer, kinder and Sam just wanted Dean to be happy for once.

Sam’s fever broke in the middle of the night, Cas and Dean left the bunker before dawn. They did their normal fed act with the locals and checked out a couple of places that vamps would want to make a nest. The day was a bust but they had some leads for the morning. Dean opted to get a room at a nicer hotel in the area in an attempt to make it feel a little more special. He felt a little uncomfortable asking the desk clerk for one room with a King size bed. She just glanced between the two men and made a ‘what a shame’ face. She was a pretty brunette late twenties, cute the type of girl Dean would have hit on and shown a good time but this was no time to hit on a one night stand, not when the love of his life was standing two feet away.

Dean opened the door the hotel, it was so much cleaner than what him and Sam had grown accustomed to. Cas pushed past him to bring their bags in. The curtains were a light cream color and the evening sunlight streaming through hitting Cas’ features making him shine like an angel on fire. God, he was beautiful. Dean became overwhelmed by the thought of his next move. Do I just kiss him or talk first? He didn’t know what to do. If Cas was a girl, he knew exactly what he would do. He liked men but had never been with one and never one that he thought might be ‘the one.’

Dean went to the bathroom and shot off a text message to Sam asking for help. He received an encouraging response that made him smile. When he walked out to the main room, Cas was already reclining on the bed. He was tired anyway and Cas looked comfortable. He didn’t have to make his move tonight, he thought.

Cas noticed that Dean was acting a little off. Maybe it was being away from Sam while he was sick, he didn’t know and he wasn’t the best at reading people, so he shrugged it off. Dean toed off his boots and joined Cas on top of the sheets turning on the TV. The king size bed was so big and it put Cas farther away than he had expected. Crap, how do I make it look like it just happened when there is so much space?

Cas was still concerned about Dean, he knew he shouldn’t but he read Dean’s mind. He was surprised that Dean was thinking about him in a romantic way. The way he normally thought about Dean. Could it be? Dean actually wants me for me. He felt his vessel‘s eyes start to water, he quickly whipped the tears of joy and asked, “are we staying in for the night?”

“Yeah, we’ll try again in the morning.” Dean replied. His head wasn’t in the hunt, all he could think was Castiel. He was trying to find the nerve to tell Cas something that was the hardest thing for him to say.

Cas moved from the bed and removed both his jackets, he grabbed two extra pillows from the hallway closet and positioned them on the bed. This time when he entered the bed, Castiel scooted closer to Dean. Their hands almost touching. “Is this ok? You felt too far away.” Cas informed him.

“Of course, Cas. This is fine.” Dean’s nervous energy went away in a second when he could finally feel Cas’ body heat next to his. His head was swimming, why was this so hard? Over the course of an hour, Dean glanced over at Cas more than a dozen times. The would lovingly look at his plump chapped lips, to his boney long fingers, to his crotch and start over again. He daydreamed about their first time, wondering if it would be gentle. Then a panic coursed through him. Who would be on top? Should he take control or let Cas lead? Fuck, he couldn’t even make the first move, let alone think about sex with Cas.

Cas could feel Dean’s apprehension and confidently reached for his hunter’s hand and intertwined their fingers locking them together. “Are you ok, Dean? Are you concerned about the hunt tomorrow?”

Dean turned his head on the pillow to look directly into Cas’ eyes, “I’m good now. It isn’t about the hunt that should be a cake walk.”

Cas lifted their joined hands just a few millimeters off the bed and asked, “Is this ok?”

Dean looked down at how perfectly their hands laced together and grinned, “Of course, Cas.” Dean and Cas laid on the bed in total silence for a while watching TV. They were getting used to the weight of each other’s hands. Dean finally placed his head on Cas’ shoulder and Cas sighed with relief. Dean was exhausted from the journey and from being so nervous about him and Cas all day. In under fifteen minutes, with the help of the comfortable Cas, Dean had closed his eyes and fell asleep. Maybe an hour past, Cas was content to have Dean sleep right there, he shifted slightly gently waking Dean. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were still holding hands. “Cas, buddy, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I guess I should get ready for bed.” Cas nodded and Dean turned the TV off and went to the bathroom. He pulled out his phone, he just text Sam. He just had to tell someone. 

Dean: We held hands

Sam: Great! How did you tell him?

Dean: I didn’t! It just happened naturally.

Sam: still really happy for you both

After sending the text messages, Dean felt like a twelve year old girl. His cheeks were hurting because he couldn’t stop smiling.

While Dean was away Cas took it upon himself to remove all of his clothes except for his blue boxers. He pulled back the covers and slid in the bed. This was a new feeling for his since he normally just lay on top of the bed covers next to Dean.

Dean brushed his teeth and removed his flannel shirt and jeans. He looked himself thinking he should take off his undershirt as well but he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that tonight. Things were going well. A little slow, but slow can be good.

Dean was almost breathless when he saw that Cas was already in the bed with his bare chest exposed. He took in the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, his angel. Cas’ deep voice rang in the air, “Dean, I hope you don’t mind I lay with you under the covers tonight.”

Dean was blushing slightly and his boxer briefs were becoming a little tight, he had never been so turned on and nervous before in his whole life. “Of course, Cas, I don’t mind.” He felt like a broken record this evening but the words ‘of course’ just rolled off his lips so easily. He joined Cas in bed, for the most part it was pretty platonic and they hadn’t held each other’s hands again.

“Dean,” Cas said to get his attention. Dean hummed in response. “Sam isn’t here and I would like to hold you.”

Dean’s stomach flipped with excitement. “Of course you can hold me, Cas.” He wasn’t sure what happened but he liked the current outcome. Castiel curled his arm around Dean’s broad chest and the other under his neck for support. Dean’s head was finally calm and he had found his peace.

After a few minutes of just getting used to each other’s bodies being so close, “Dean, I have a confession.” Cas admitted.

“What’s that?”

“I read your thoughts today. I know I shouldn’t have but your were acting not like yourself.” Cas continued to explain.

“So is that why you have been so ‘friendly’? Do you want this, Cas? Or are you doing this because you think this is what I want?” Dean asked. He had almost turned all of the doubt off for the evening and now it rushed back like raging river.

“I want this, Dean.“ He loved the way Cas always used his name when he spoke. Feeling the vibration of Cas’ chest against his back made his name have special meaning. “I have wanted you for a long time now. I was afraid you didn’t want anything more than friendship.” Cas stated.

Dean took Cas’ hand and placed a gentle kiss to his thumb, “I had no idea, if I knew, Cas, this would have happened sooner.” Dean felt silly, Cas was pouring his heart out and he still couldn’t get the words out, those stupid three words.

“Turn to me Dean.” Cas ordered and Dean complied. Cas cupped Dean’s chin with his hand. Now he had the time to gaze upon Dean’s perfect pink lips that he wanted to kiss so badly. Dean follows suit and also lifted his hand to Cas’ face. Both mens’ eyes danced across each other’s features soaking up every inch of perfection that the other saw in the other.

Cas had been steering this ship all night, Dean felt it was a good time for him to take over. Dean pulled Cas to him, tilting his head he pressed a kind loving kiss on his slightly rough lips. Cas parted his lips allowing Dean easy access. Dean’s tongue darted into Cas’ mouth sweeping the inside wanting to be closer to him. Cas tasted sweet with a hint of coffee aftertaste. As they kissed passionately, Dean’s chest moved closer until they were pressed against each other. Cas was happy to let the more experienced Dean take control. His hands searched over Cas’ back, his skin was soft but not supple like a women’s, it was tight as he felt his muscles that formed ridges on his shoulder blades. The searing kisses that were being exchanged were satisfying the urges forming in his loins. He could feel Cas’ clothed hard length rub against his on own. He rolled Cas on his back, legs straddling around his trim waist. Continued to kiss him, laying his full body on top of Cas. Dean sat up pulling away from the kiss and took his shirt off tossing it on the floor. Cas traced his hands over Dean’s abdomen as Dean grinded softly against Cas’ cock.

“Castiel,” it was unusual for Dean to say Cas’ whole name but he wanted him to pay attention.  “I need you to know that this isn’t some one night thing for me.  Cas,” Dean leaned down to pressed a soft kiss on Cas’ lips.  “Cas,” He repeated, “I-I” he stuttered.

Cas kissed him again stopping his confession, “Dean, I know.”

“Cas, buddy, I have to tell you and I need you to hear it.” Dean explained.

“Dean!” Cas said softly, informing Dean that he didn’t have to say anything that he ready to say.

“Castiel, I,” he breathed loudly, “I love you.” the weight vanished; Dean smiled so bright proud that the one he loves the most finally knew. 

Cas reached up pulling Dean into him, their lips crashed over and over again.  Between kisses, Cas breathlessly said, “I love you too, Dean.” 

Underwear, finally, made its way into a ball at the foot of the bed under the sheets.  The two mens’ naked bodies rutted for satisfaction.  Both were shy to touch the others member, Cas was the first to reach down.  His touch made Dean moan Cas’ name in his mouth.  “Cas, oh, please!” Dean’s moans were soft and Cas loved the sound of his name on Dean’s lips.  Cas continued to stoke Dean’s length harder and faster.  “Castiel, I want you…” he groaned if Cas didn’t stop he would climax without him.  “Cas” he kissed. “Make love to me?” he asked so needy.

Cas was a little surprised at Dean’s request, he had always imaged that the Great Dean Winchester would want to be in control of their first sexual experience.  “Dean, I don’t really know what I am doing.”

“Me either. This is all new for me too.  I want you to feel you inside of me.” Dean’s voice was raspy. “Have condoms and lube in my bag.” 

Both men moved away from each other, Cas was fumbling to put the condom on, Dean helped him to open the wrapper and rolled it slowly down his shaft teasing him a little.  They both gazed into each others eyes, Cas bend down to continue kissing Dean.  Dean slid back on the  bed and turn over on his stomach, he started to move to his knees taking a comfortable position.  He was concerned that it would hurt but he had confidence that Cas would be gentle and take care of him.  Cas’ rough five o’clock shadow grazed over Dean’s soft skin on his neck.  Cas sprinkled kisses over his shoulders and nuzzled into his neck.  “Dean, I enjoy this but this isn’t going to work. I want to look in your eyes.” 

“Of course Cas.” Dean moaned. 

Dean turned on his back and spread his legs around his angel.  Cas fell onto Dean’s lips, his dick rubbing between Dean’s ass cheeks toying with Dean.  Dean’s cock was trapped in the center of their stomachs, the friction was almost too much to handle.  Pre-cum started to form at his head aiding in the grinding relieving some of the friction.

“Dean, I want you so bad.  Are you ready?” Cas asked.  Dean’s forest colored eyes shined with joy, he nodded, not trusting his voice. Cas lined up with Dean.  He was slow, his blunt head gliding in Dean.  Dean moaned from feeling the foreign sensation.  Inch by inch, Cas was careful, checking on Dean constantly.  Finally, his whole length was in.  Cas started to thrust, both men closed their eyes and low groans escaped from their lips.  Reaching around Dean’s head Cas pulled Dean’s chest up, his plump lips enclosed around Dean’s thoroughly kissing his quivering lips.  Cas’ cock throbbed as he slid in and out of Dean.  He reached for Dean’s hand interlacing their fingers, Cas raised their joined hands up above Dean’s head.  Cas laid on top of him and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Dean.  There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”  Cas’ words and all the sensitivity he was feeling made Dean tear with joy.  Two single tears strolled down his face as Cas prolonged his rocking inside of Dean.  Cas didn’t want to stop he wanted to stay inside Dean forever but his vessel had another idea.  He started to feel his edge come on, “Dean, I’m so close…” Cas moaned.

“Me too.” Was all Dean could mutter as he finally let himself cum untouched.  The warm juices squirted on their stomachs, making it easier for Cas to glide while pinning Dean to the bed.

“Mmmmm uhhh ohhhhhhh” rolled deep from inside of Cas as his seed was released.  His cock pulsated inside of Dean for a few minutes as the two men enjoyed laying with one another completely quenching the others needs.

“Cas, Thank you. That was better than I ever imaged.” Dean gushed.  The men cleaned up and slept next to each other.  Cas had never dreamed before but tonight he only dreamed of a life next to Dean, with him forever. 

The next morning the naked men awoke, and prepared for the hunt.  Other than a few stolen kisses, everything was the same and that relived Dean.

Cas and Dean found the nest by mid-day and ten vamps lost their heads.  Dean checked up on Sam, he was feeling a lot better.   He informed Sam that they would be back by nightfall. 

Back at the bunker, “Hey Sammy!” Dean barged into his brother’s bedroom. 

“You’re chipper.” Sam snickered.

“Hell yeah! I’m chipper.  I just had the best night of my life and got to kill some monsters.” Dean stated.

Sam smirked, “So things went even better after you held hands?”

“Yeah so much better.  I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.”

“Oh no Dean! You can keep that to yourself.  What you and Cas do is none of my business.”  Sam notified Dean.

“Well anyway, I am glad you are doing better, Sammy.”

Dean walked down to Cas’ bed with a box in hand. “Dean, what are you doing?” Cas asked.

“Oh you’re moving.”

Cas was a little shocked, and wondered what he had done wrong, “Where am I moving to?”

“My room of course.” Dean chuckled.

“What about Sam?” Cas questioned.

“There is not enough room for all three of us in my room.” Dean joked.

“You know what I mean. I just thought you would want to keep this between us, a secret.” Cas confided.

Dean placed his hand on Cas’ face and looked down in his hooded eyes, “Castiel, I am not keeping you a secret from anyone.  You are mine.”

A delicate kiss was shared as Cas helped Dean move his belongings down the hall. 

@bandobsession98 @greenappleeyes @honeybeetrash @chaos-and-the-calm67 @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @webcricket

I love all the likes and reblogs but I really do want your feedback. Please leave me a comment; let me know what worked or what didn’t. If you hated it let me know what I could do different. It may determine how I write my next fic.

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[lightandmatter]

ViewSonic has long been a respected name in the monitor market (I owned a pair of their CRT monitors over a decade ago), but they’ve been best known for their general-purpose and office monitors. This year at WPPI, though, I ran across the ViewSonic exhibit and had a chance to see their line of wide-gamut and web-gamut monitors for photographers, and they looked like they were worth some serious attention. To begin, ViewSonic sent me their wide-gamut model to check out. After several months of use, this is what I’ve found.

But first, the Quick Feature List:

Less than $899 (currently [amazon template=price&asin=B0748DGHSG] at Amazon)

4K resolution (3840 x 2160)

HDR, 10-bit color, AdobeRGB gamut

Ambient light sensor

Cross-screen color consistency system

USB-C, Display Port, Mini Display Port, HDMI

3x USB 3.1 (A-type) Ports

Adjustable height, vertical rotation, VESA Mount (100 x 100mm)

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The Screen: Backlight & Color

The image quality produced by a monitor is really the most important aspect for photographers, and the Viewsonic VP2785 does not disappoint. There is no backlight bleed around the bezel when viewing a dark screen at typical brightness levels; the panel gives us nicely even brightness from edge to edge… with one caveat that I’ll mention in a moment.

Note that the top of the screen is slightly brighter when viewed at an angle.

I was pleased to find that the monitor’s color looked excellent right out of the box, but I went ahead and used my colorimeter to profile it anyway, which resulted only in a negligible shift in the highlight reds. I switched the monitor to sRGB mode and used it next to a recently calibrated BenQ Designer (sRGB), and there was no noticeable difference in color.

For most of the past few months, though, I’ve used the monitor in its wide-gamut, AdobeRGB mode. If you’ve read my previous reviews of various different BenQ monitors, you’ll know that I love using wide-gamut monitors to view my images, even when there’s no practical need.

Tests with a colorimeter showed the ViewSonic monitor to be as good as expected, or better. In a quick test with the Datacolor software[mfn] The monitor was set to custom mode, including gamma 2.2 and the brightness adjusted down to 26 to match my room light.[/mfn], results showed better than 100% coverage of the AdobeRGB color space (with a significantly larger range in the greens and blues). A more thorough (two hour) test with DisplayCal showed that only 99% of the AdobeRGB color space was covered, but that the Viewsonic also covered an additional 8% beyond AdobeRGB into larger gamuts. Delta-E (also written ΔE, a measure of accuracy) was below 1.5 for each channel, and 1.24 on average[mfn]A Delta-E of 2 is the smallest difference detectable by the human eye, so lower numbers are better. Many standard monitors have a ΔE above 6.[/mfn].

In the figures below, the dotted line and the grey splines represent the AdobeRGB color space, and the colored area represents the area covered by the ViewSonic monitor. AdobeRGB exceeds the monitor primarily in the yellow-green region.

The ViewSonic VP2785 gave me all of the colors that I enjoy, with rich reds and vibrant greens and blues, and the accuracy to produce the subtleties in shading the lesser monitors conflate into a blocked-up mess.

Similarly, the gamma of 2.2 was spot on, the grey ramp looked good, and the tested contrast ratios were excellent, peaking at 750:1 at 50% brightness, and only dipping to 700:1 at lower brightness settings[mfn]This is lower than the reported 1000:1 contrast ratio for the monitor, but I did have the contrast settings set to 50% on the monitor, which may have made a difference[/mfn]. Combined with the 10-bit tonal depth, this makes the monitor wonderful for editing black and white images.

And now to that caveat. The screen brightness is very even when your view is perpendicular to the surface. However, when viewed from an angle, there’s a significant amount of brightening when the screen is dark, particularly across the top and bottom of the screen.

It’s not a problem when the monitor is used at normal brightness levels, but it is visible when you look for it: brightening at the top and bottom of the panel when tilted.

And unfortunately, if you’re sitting about two feet away from the monitor, the angle to the corners of the monitor is great enough that they sometimes appear brighter than they should. I don’t notice it during real-world use, but under the right conditions, it’s visible when you look for it.

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From about 5 feet away, the light bleed is negligible in the bottom corners of the monitor, and also nearly invisible in the upper, to the naked eye.

From just two feet away, though, the angle to the corners increases, and the corners are noticeably brighter.

Monitor Design & Features

Beyond the picture quality, the monitor looks good but utilitarian: perfect for a professional setting. The bezel around the screen is just a thin (~1mm) line, with a 1.5cm panel along the bottom to frame the control buttons and ambient light sensor.

My office has very consistent light levels, so I didn’t test the monitor’s automatic brightness adjustment, which is intended to make editing more comfortable as light levels change throughout the day (as we’re all familiar with from our phones). I prefer to set a single level and get used to it.

The monitor has a “color uniformity” feature that is intended to keep colors consistent across the screen, but it is not available in AdobeRGB mode, which was where I tested the monitor, primarily.

What’s Missing: Beyond the high-quality display, ViewSonic’s feature list is a bit Spartan. Though there are a few spare USB ports if you need them, there are no incorporated card readers, which are not much of a loss. There is no external quick mode-change puck, as we’d find on BenQ models, which I also don’t miss.

However, I do miss having a matching, dedicated monitor hood. The ViewSonic does not ship with one, and it does not have mounting slots for one to attach. When I first saw this range of monitors at WPPI, they were outfitted with soft-material hoods (Viewsonic MH27M1) that were attached with Velcro. These will add an additional [amazon template=price&asin=B07F2RWXDN] to the cost of your monitor, and they look like after-market add-ons instead of an integrated design.

Problems & Concerns

As mentioned above, the loss of contrast when viewed at an angle has the potential to be problematic, since the corners of the monitor are always viewed at an angle when you’re centered in front of it. This is, however, a negligible issue for practical purposes.

Otherwise, my only concern with this monitor was the capacitive (touch) power switch and menu buttons. For a period of about a month while I was using the monitor, the power button worked intermittently: I’d touch it to turn the monitor on, and nothing would happen. I’d sit there poking at it for a few minutes… trying the tip of my fingers or the flat of my thumb trying to get it to turn on, and eventually, it would inexplicably work, and all would be well.

And then, just as inexplicably, I stopped having problems with it. Did I have too many USB devices hooked up to the monitor, and it was a power-draw problem? Was there a cable or something touching the area of the monitor that I didn’t notice? I don’t know. But as cool as a capacitive button is, I’d prefer the reliability of a standard mechanical switch.

Value & Alternatives

At [amazon template=price&asin=B0748DGHSG], the VP2785-4K may be the least expensive AdobeRGB monitor of its size and resolution on the market, and the monitor’s color is excellent for real-world use, making this a great deal if you don’t need too many extra bells and whistles.

The ViewSonic’s size and feature set make it an obvious competitor to the BenQ SW271, which sells for about $1099 at B&H or Amazon. Though it’s more expensive, the BenQ does come with some extras and it uses a true 10-bit panel, while the ViewSonic’s display achieves 10-bits through FRC[mfn]Frame Rate Changing is a method of producing the perception of additional colors by rapidly flickering between two neighboring colors.[/mfn] with its 8-bit panel (though there’s little practical difference). For what it’s worth, the BenQ uses about 20% less power than the Viewsonic, on average.

Dell and Acer both make 27″ 4K wide gamut monitors, but they cost about $1600 and $1300, respectively.

An option that may appeal to some photographers as an alternative to the ViewSonic is the Asus PA329Q, which is a larger 32″ 4K monitor with reported 99.5% AdobeRGB coverage, and a price of $1099 at B&H or Amazon.

Conclusion

Ultimately, the ViewSonic VP2785-4K is an excellent monitor, especially considering that it has the lowest price in its class. The minor brightness uniformity issues with the panel that I noted are not a problem for practical use, and the color is both beautiful and accurate.

Review: ViewSonic’s VP2785 4K Pro Photography & Video Monitor ViewSonic has long been a respected name in the monitor market (I owned a pair of their CRT monitors over a decade ago), but they've been best known for their general-purpose and office monitors.