#the egg saga continues

[pizzpizzapizzo]

[keiteiken]

enamored dad of a baby chicken. you will see him cooing over the little box and petting its head. “you will get big and strong tama, i promise. i'll take good care of you.”

[worldsewage]

what's your favorite type of egg?

Hgn poatched…… soft boiled… super yolkuy…..

[inspector-montoya-fox]

I was summoned by talk of breakfast!

My Ideal™ breakfast is pancakes, bacon, hash browns, soft scrambled eggs with hollandaise, croissant or brioche french toast with fruit and whipped cream and tea and orange juice

And because I love all these things I will occasionally make a version of this for my housemates on a long weekend or if we're having breakfast for dinner

having a pre-packaged waffle that tastes like styrofoam while reading this:

[opal-owl-flight]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO SPLOON3 AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NEO3!!!

(On the phone screen being shown to Neo3 is likely a leaked Grizzco document about how all the eggs had gone missing)

There is no way the platoon wont pull all the stops to make the day happy for their favorite salmon-raised shithead. Doesnt matter that they havent had proper sleep for the last 2 days.More deets below regarding the feat….

For years, things have been simmering below the surface of Grizzco. Upstarts in the ranks, dissatisfied workers, *vengeful* inkfish, salmonid sympathizers who infiltrated the system to find out how to help, much like the platoon.

Crack teams. Strike forces. secret unions.

There isnt a BIG number of them, and none of them really worked together like a well-oiled machine, but they all had the goal of tearing this damn corporation/mafia apart.

For a variety of reasons, really. For poor conditions or pay. For the deaths of their coworkers. To investigate the big runs in hopes of stopping more in the future. To steal the eggs and return them to sea.

The platoon pokes here and there, and does their own share of this backbreaking work. The second everyone got paid... these groups opened the floodgates. Theres a lot of em, grizzco cant get em all. (And the activities cant be tracked back to the platoon, unlike other times like the Cap4 saga.)

Nobody knew they were working alongside the legendary NSS.

----------

A pal of mine puts it best...

Imagine knowing your partner, sibling, best friend died and finding out it wasn't just them dying defending the places... they died cause some corporate fuck orchestrated the whole series of big runs.

And in the future, these groups catch wind of what the NSS knows. That the big runs were all Grizzco made. This drives most of the shills into a frenzy. Most of all the high-value volunteers who were only there for the grand run but was trapped by the corporation.

---------

Come a whole 24 hours after the grand run, Grizzco starts panicking.

because only 700 million eggs remained in their stores.

Thats what Neo3 gets for her birthday -- the fact that all the extra eggs were returned to the sea. It rejuvenates her to fight for the future, now that there IS a future to fight for.

More raids continued after, 3 putting her squarely in that leadership position for the NSS's strike force (now including 7 and the crew from the Cap4 arc!)

Eventually, only 500 mil remained. And then grizzco goes on lockdown and....well, lets just say they made some people disappear. None from the platoon's strike force, thankfully. Most were grizzco's own shills, up in the higher ranks. Blamed for the loss of the eggs *and* for not making the number back.

-----------

I wont say tgere werent any casualties on the upstarts, though. Some were caught and are in serious danger from the mafia, though none fell under the jurisdiction of the NSS. The fact is, the NSS wasnt aware of a lot of these cases due to how fractured all the upstarts are. (It allows the movement as a whole to not be immediately shut down after a few get caught, or something. So they say.)

(bonus pic without the caption!)

[tangledinink]

the gemini - egg saga continues

[ start ] [ prev ] [ next ]

[elizaaarts]

[AU] Little Nightmares: DARK FATE (PART 42)!

I'm fucking back.

⚠️ Read the description at the end of the comic, please!!

⚠️TW: BLOOD!!

> NEXT

> PREVIOUS

Okay, this part is quite interesting, isn't it? It seems that in Mirror Man's dimension there is much more than we imagine... Six managed to break MM's patience 💅

PS 1: In fact, there's an EASTER EGG from another AU there, it's very easy to find 👀

PS 2: I have special thanks to VGS who gave a little help in this part, thank you bestie! ✨️

⚠️IMPORTANT INFORMATION⚠️:

So guys, opening the game: I wouldn't continue with this AU, but why? Lately, a series of things have come together that ended up harming me: The cooling of Fandom. I've seen that many people's interest is decreasing very quickly, and this has impacted my motivation to continue this comic, so a few months ago I decided that I wouldn't continue with this saga and I was thinking of a way to tell it (that's why I disappeared for 3 months). HOWEVER, I felt the need to continue but I felt insecure and confused.

I'm going to put a poll here to find out about the people who follow me on Tumblr. Do you want this AU to continue? Be honest and don't worry about choosing "no", I won't be upset!

[comphy-and-cozy]

Every Summer Has a Story - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: When you find yourself on vacation with an ex-fling that barely had time to get off the ground before disaster struck, you might find you're in more than you bargained for. An exes/enemies to lovers (ish) fic.

Word Count: 11.5K

Author's Notes: Written for @yuukiyu for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange! I had a blast writing this and really channeling my own version of a Tessa Bailey-esque romance novel. S/O to @smileysvech for helping to brainstorm and to @cellythefloshie for beta'ing! Love and appreciate you both so much. Enjoy!

Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), angst, fluff, there's only one bed!, wingman!Marty, shit communication skills, scruffy and sweet Andrei.

NHL Masterlist / Moodboard

Red pinpricks shone in the dark, glaring in the silence: 2:49am. The house was quiet, all its inhabitants sound asleep, dreaming peacefully. Except for you.

With a huff, you cast a glance at the figure on the other side of the bed, mustering the dirtiest glare you could as you heaved the blankets back in your direction, a task that proved impossible due to the death grip your bedmate had on the sheets. 

Six months ago, if you’d have told yourself that you’d be in bed with Andrei Svechnikov and hating it, you would’ve laughed until you cried. But unfortunately, you weren’t laughing.  Instead, you were left  wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation and asking the higher powers what you did to deserve this special form of hell. 

As you contemplated your predicament, your mind wandered back to the beginning of the Russian’s saga, thinking back to the first time you heard his name.

“I wasn’t aware this was going to be an ambush.”

Guilt washed over Marty’s face, while Nykki just burst into laughter. “It’s not an ambush, you drama queen. It’s an opportunity.”

“An opportunity? You mean an opportunity to get my heart crushed by some playboy millionaire jock—no offense, Marty—when he inevitably sends the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text three months down the road?”

Nykki scoffed, while Marty raised his eyes in surprise, an amused smile curling at his lips.

“Come on, you know I have a point!” you said, waving your hands emphatically. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go on, tell me that 98% of hockey players aren’t trash human beings.”

Opening her mouth to argue, Nykki paused, then sat back to look at her boyfriend, who thought through his words carefully.

“There are a lot of bad eggs,” he said, “some of them my own teammates.”

Your eyebrows raised, hand outstretched as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ But then Marty continued.

“But not Andrei Svechnikov.”

Admittedly, when Nykki invited you over with the promise of a ‘proposition,’ you had an inkling that it would involve some devious scheme to get you on a double date with one of Marty’s teammates. The excitement in her eye when you were at her apartment for a girl’s night—a bottle of Cabernet deep, wistfully imagining having a close friend in her journey as the girlfriend of a professional athlete—was a little too earnest to be just a passing fantasy. 

“He’s a really nice guy. He’s so genuine… and kind. I really think he’d be good for you.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you opt to play nice for a moment. “And why is that, Nečas?”

“Because even though he’s a ‘playboy’,” he exaggerated the air quotes with his fingers, “he came from nothing, so he knows the value of appreciating what he has and what he’s worked for. He’s the hardest working guy I know, without question.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know he’d be the sweetest boyfriend,” Nykki chimed in, ignoring the glare you sent in her direction, irritated that she was teaming up against you. “He’s so sweet to everyone. He just hasn’t found the right person yet.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s busy sticking his dick in everything that walks,” you said sarcastically.

“The guy’s 22 years old,” Marty said, and although your mouth was already open to retort, you fell silent. “And he’s making more money than he ever dreamt about as a kid. He’s young, single, and successful—of course he’s having a good time. That doesn’t mean he’s always going to be that way.”

Though begrudgingly, you had to admit that Marty struck a chord. You couldn’t fault the guy for having fun while he was young; it was what you’d do if you were in his shoes, too.

So, though you were still not fully convinced, you earned a squeal from Nykki when you agreed to a double date with Andrei: bowling and drinks. He was every bit as charming and kind as Marty promised, flashing his knee-weakening dimple at you every time he threw his ball with effortless ease.

The second date followed shortly thereafter—rock climbing followed by ice cream. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell; instead, he exuded a confidence that was close enough to cocky without crossing the line, and it suited him. The heated kiss in front of your apartment door was nice, too, bidding you a farewell that tempted you to drag him inside your bedroom and fuck him six ways to Sunday. 

With a grunt from the man next to you, your memory replay vanished. Six months later, you couldn’t believe you’d ended up here, sleeping beside a man you once thought you might like to sleep beside for the rest of your life. Only this time, it wasn’t by choice, and you weren’t happy about it.

The trip was a farewell of sorts, to the season behind them and, briefly, to each other before everyone parted ways for the summer. Andrei and Pyotr were heading back to Russia for awhile, Marty to Czechia, and Jesse to Finland. Being the only non-NHL affiliated member of the party, you were the only one for whom this was a ‘normal’ vacation, and you’d report back in Raleigh at the end of the week. 

When Nykki extended the invite to you, you accepted under the terms that you wouldn’t have to spend much alone time with Andrei, but you did have to be cordial. Terms that you didn’t have a problem with, though the prospect of being on a trip with several other couples leaving you and Andrei the only single members of the group felt a little bit like a trap. 

But, Nykki reassured you, showing you the Airbnb listing that had a bed for each of you. Well, one was an air mattress, but you were more than happy to accept that as opposed to the alternative. 

It was all set, and you were actually looking forward to a week in the sun with your friends. The Airbnb was just as advertised: clean, well-decorated, and huge. Each couple had their own room, and there were so many bathrooms everyone pretty much got their own, something you were grateful for to have a little privacy.

You tucked your bag into the office despite Andrei’s insistence that he’d be happy to take the air mattress and let you have the remaining bedroom. Remembering your promise to Nykki, you threw a smile on your face and assured him that it was fine. He lingered in the doorway, and you imagined that he was probably teetering between wanting to push back and not wanting to argue less than 30 minutes after arriving. 

However, as you began to attempt to push the heavy desk closer to the corner to create more room for the air mattress, Andrei didn’t take no for an answer as he walked up beside you and moved it with ease.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back the sassy remark you wanted to make about being able to handle it yourself.

He waved it off with a small smile, exiting the room to leave you to settle in. 

It was all going swimmingly. Until it wasn’t. 

After laying out the air mattress and plugging it into the wall, you discovered a hole in it, making it impossible to blow up or stay inflated.

Nykki wandered in after hearing you cursing, quickly assessing the situation. She helped you search for something—anything—to attempt to patch the hole, but even after slapping a thick stripe of duct tape over the hole, it wouldn’t stay inflated for more than 20 minutes.

“You can stay with me. Marty—he can sleep on the couch,” she offered, though you could see in her eyes that making her boyfriend sleep on the couch wasn’t the ideal situation for her vacation that she’d been the primary planner for.

“No, Nykki, I can’t make him do that,” you shook your head. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

The only problem with the couch was that while there were a few, they were all in the middle of the living room, allowing minimal privacy as well as blasting you with light as soon as the sun rose daily. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d slept in far worse conditions.

“You can share my bed with me.”

The deep voice surprised you, but not as much as seeing Andrei standing in the doorway, eyes watching the sadly deflating air mattress on the floor. Nykki’s eyes widened, glancing back toward you.

“No, Andrei, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch.”

“It’s a King bed. There’s way too much room for just me. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nykki exclaimed, and for a brief moment part of you wanted to flick her in her gorgeous face, because although you knew she’d want you to enjoy yourself, she also wasn’t entirely convinced that the door was closed for you and Andrei. “Then you don’t have to deal with the extra noise when people start to wake up. I know you’re sensitive to the light.”

There wasn’t much arguing to be had, remembering your promise. Admittedly, after seeing the sheer size of the bed, you thought to yourself it wouldn’t be so bad assuming each of you kept to your designated side.

Which is how you ended up awake at 3 in the morning, shivering under the scrap of sheet you had left. 

Staring at the ceiling, you contemplated your options: 1) Stab him to death, 2) Suffocate him with your pillow, or 3) Go searching for an extra blanket somewhere in the Airbnb that you were calling home for the next 5 days.

Unfortunately, option 3 was probably the most logical, so with a heavy sigh, you rolled yourself out of the bed, allowing yourself to wallow in annoyance and frustration. Someone was looking out for you, though, for it only took a few minutes of wandering in the dark to find an entire closet full of soft, warm blankets. Selecting a fuzzy green one, you hugged it to your body before quietly tiptoeing back to the room. You had half a mind to slam the door, but thought better of it, since you had no desire to wake everyone else up.

You weren’t quiet, however, retrieving an extra sweatshirt from your bag before flopping back into bed, part of you hoping his sleep would be disturbed since he’d so effortlessly ruined yours. Warmth slowly began to seep back into your body as you turned your back to Andrei, sleep not far behind. 

The next morning, you woke up in a makeshift cocoon of your sweatshirt and the spare blanket you’d found the night before, tucked into the comforter. Squinting your eyes open in the light of the room, you were relieved to find Andrei was gone, affording you the delicious luxury of stretching your limbs without worrying about nudging him. 

Quiet chatter sounded from above you, along with the distant sound of feet padding on the tile floor, signaling that others were awake. After a few moments of introspection, you made your way upstairs to find about half of the group huddled in the kitchen, slowly sipping on their mismatched mugs amid quiet conversation. 

A low, murmured chorus of “Morning”s sounded when they saw you, taking a seat at the island next to Marty, who offered an affectionate nudge of his knee. 

Andrei was busying himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the empty wine glasses left on the countertop from the night before. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how helpful he was being–where was that courtesy when he was snatching your covers? 

When he turned, his eyes landed on you. He frowned slightly seeing your expression, but if he wanted to say something, he opted not to.

“Coffee?” he asked, gesturing to the Nespresso behind him. With a quick glance around, you realized he’d made everyone their drink of choice—at least, to the best of his ability, given the limited selection. “I make a grumpy latte.”

“You mean ‘mean,’” Seth corrected. “‘I make a mean latte.’”

Andrei repeated the word, and you could practically see the gears working in his brain to commit the turn-of-phrase to memory. Then his eyes were back on you. “A mean latte, then?”

“Please.”

A steaming hot mug was placed in front of you a few minutes later. With a small, polite smile, you thanked him before joining in the conversation about the day’s agenda—not much, other than a day at the private beach, and a full barbecue feast later on. When you learned Andrei would be staying back with the boys, you quickly volunteered to head to the grocery store with Nykki to pick up supplies for the week.

Part of you was thankful that it was just you and Nykki, wanting to share your updates—and maybe vent a little bit. 

“So? How was it?” she asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat once you’d parted from the driveway. “Maybe a little snuggle action?”

Rolling your eyes, you did your best to reign in your irritation at last night’s events. You decided against reminding her that it was her fault you’d been forced into domesticity against your will. “Ha. Fat chance. Turns out he’s a blanket hog. Don’t remember that from…”

Nykki’s eyebrows waggled at the way you brought up your rendezvous together. “Maybe you’d sleep better if you were both naked.”

“Nyk, please,” you said, though you granted a small chuckle at her persistence. “The guy is a dick. I’m extending an olive branch—for you—”

“—for everyone here.”

“Fine, for the sake of everyone’s well-being this week,” you corrected. “But I have no interest in renewing whatever that was—”

“—the start of a blossoming, budding, beautiful romance?”

“If that’s what it was, then he ripped up the roots and poured weed killer all over them.”

Pursing her lips, Nykki cast another glance at you, then conceded with a reluctant nod. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I still think there was a miscommunication or something.”

“His ex-girlfriend left his apartment in last night’s clothes, Nykki,” you said matter-of-factly. “I’m not really sure how that could be a miscommunication.”

She hummed, a non-response, and you allowed comfortable silence to settle between you two as she navigated the route to the grocery store. Looking out the window, you watched the trees roll by as you were swept back to the memory in question. 

Your keys jingled on their ring that was looped over your middle finger, a large green smoothie cold in your hand as you hit the elevator button with your elbow. Taking a sip of your own smoothie–mixed berry with vanilla yogurt–you waited excitedly as you watched the elevator floors tick down. Finally, it reached ‘LL’ and the stainless steel doors slid open.

Punching the 14, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, checking your reflection. Balancing the second cup in the crook of your arm, you fixed your hair and fluffed it up a little, checking your teeth to make sure there were no chia seeds in them. When the ding of the elevator signaled you’d arrived at your destination, you set off down the hallway with a flutter in your chest.

That flutter died quickly when a door down the hallway opened and a blonde girl wearing a wrinkled dress stepped out, bidding a final goodbye to the apartment’s inhabitants. Her hair was mussed, knotted, like she’d just woken up after a long night and didn’t bother to brush it out. The loosely buckled heels on her feet were the final indication that yes, this was certainly a classic case of a walk of shame.

In any other instance, you might be chuckling to yourself, offering a reassuring nod as someone who’d been in her shoes before. Except the apartment she’d just come out of was the very apartment you were heading to. And unfortunately, you recognized her easily from sleuthing on Instagram: she was Andrei’s ex. More specifically, the ex he’d just broken up with a few weeks prior, and you were the new girl in his life.

Or, at least you thought you were. Until right now. 

You were meant to be surprising Andrei with a smoothie from your favorite local shop, something you’d mentioned on your most recent date. When he’d responded to your text asking if he was home, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was busy yucking it up with his ex-girlfriend.

As the pieces flashed together in front of your eyes, you felt your heart break. Maybe things weren’t going as well as you’d thought. Maybe after some time away, Andrei realized she was, in fact, the one he wanted, and it took being with you to realize that. Maybe you just weren’t his type, and she was.

Self-deprecating thoughts swirled through your brain, taunting you as you turned on your heel and marched toward the stairwell, unwilling to share the same air as her on the elevator, even if it was only for a few moments. Tears filled your eyes as you made your way down, flight by flight, your thoughts only getting worse as you wondered what you’d done wrong. 

By the time you reached the bottom, aggressively tossing the untouched green smoothie in the trash, you’d come full circle to end at one conclusion: You hated Andrei Svechnikov. 

The sound of Siri indicating an upcoming turn pulled you out of your reminiscence, blinking away the memory that still haunted you. While you knew Nykki was right—you had only been on a few dates with him, and there certainly had been no discussion of relationship status or commitment—you still couldn’t push away the fact of the matter that he hurt you. 

What made matters worse was that the dates you had been on were great. He was, as Marty promised, kind, funny, and the banter was the perfect flirt-to-roast ratio. Small though it was, the bud of your romance was just beginning to swell before it all came crashing down.

And the sex? Best you ever had. Like, legs shaking, heart pounding, mind-blowing, life-altering kind of ‘best.’ Funny how Marty had failed to mention that as a possibility.

So, needless to say, not only was sleeping beside him torturous for the sheer distaste you held for him, given everything that transpired, but having to sleep beside his half-naked body was torturous for a whole different reason. His muscles dipped and rippled with every movement, the sheer size of his biceps enough to make your heart flutter.

And that was only while he was asleep.

Awake Andrei was even worse, the dimpled smile paired with the form-fitting, too-short inseam swimming trunks that hung low on his hips, sans t-shirt of course, was enough to make you want to pull your hair out. You couldn’t deny that summer looked good on Andrei, and vacation looked even better; he was more relaxed, the time away from the rink working wonders on his mental health in ways he probably barely understood. His infectious smile was rarely not on his face, which also showed a few days’ worth of facial hair, peppered in along his jaw.

In any other circumstance, he’d be the perfect catch: tall, handsome, rich, amazing in bed. Except he was also a dick. And selfish, and inconsiderate, and an absolute fuckboy. Exactly like you predicted.

You’d told all of this to Nykki, who simply raised an eyebrow at you. She looked at you like she had something to say, like she was analyzing the thoughts inside your brain, but if she came to a conclusion, she kept it to herself, and after pulling into the grocery store parking lot, the conversation was all but forgotten.

A few hours later, the fridge fully stocked with food and plentiful drinks, you sat on the edge of the deck, leaning backward to feel the sun warm on your skin. Nykki was sunbathing beside you, Seth on your opposite side cuddling Gigi in his lap while he watched the others play an intense round of volleyball. 

The sound of the light chatter faded into the background as your eyes closed, allowing relaxation to sink into your bones. You might have had a less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, but you were still on vacation in a beautiful home on a beautiful beach with your friends, an entire week free of obligation and surely full of core memories. The sun was shining, the ocean was blue, and you were going to make the most of it regardless of the Russian who’d hurt you. 

Coincidentally, your eyes opened moments before the feeling of being smacked in the leg jolted you up, quickly followed by the feeling of cold liquid on your foot. 

“Oh, shit, sorry–”

It took a moment to recognize that the volleyball had veered off-course and not only hit you in the leg, but spilled your drink in the process. And, of course, the culprit was none other than your bedmate, who was looking at you bashfully. It took everything in you not to let your eyes slide down to the way the rest of his torso was shining with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen that made him look like a fucking pageant contestant. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink and he was panting, another action that brought you back to memories you’d prefer not to relive. 

Seth tossed the ball back, breaking the very brief moment of tension between you and the Russian. Resisting the urge to scoff and roll your eyes, you instead waved your hand to show him it was no big deal. It wasn’t, of course, but it certainly didn’t help the irritation that dripped off of you in waves whenever he was around. 

Fortunately, all of it dissipated by the end of the day, you a few seltzers deep playing cornhole. Though you were partnered with Marty, you were conveniently side by side with Andrei, playing against Pyotr. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol toying with your system or if Andrei’s hand lingered when he’d hand you the beanbags. Surely, though, it was definitely the alcohol when you felt a tingle where his fingers brushed against yours. 

You and Marty triumphed over the Russians in a close victory, celebrating with a late-night jump into the ocean and a warm, roaring fire waiting for you once you dried off. Taking your place in the seat beside Pyotr and slipping on a sweatshirt to cover your damp body, you watched with a grin as Nykki brought all of the fixings for s’mores on a platter.

“What’s a sah-more?” Andrei asked, his accent preventing him from understanding the American dialect.

“S’more,” you corrected. “Like, ‘I want some more.’ S’more. Because they’re delicious.”

Pyotr watched you, perplexed, as you demonstrated, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and placing it on the end of your rod. Once it was perfectly swollen and golden, you crafted the sandwich, Seth assisting as you placed the graham crackers around the chocolate and marshmallow, pulling it off of the rod and squeezing. Andrei’s eyes widened when he realized—perhaps a little slowly—the point of roasting the marshmallows to make them soft and gooey.

“A s’more,” you said with a grin, handing the sandwich to Pyotr. Cautiously, he took a bite, and you couldn’t help but laugh when his eyes lit up.

“How do you know when it’s done?” Andrei asked, his tongue sticking out as he pushed two onto the rod you handed him. You were quick to take his hand and move it when he proceeded to stick the marshmallows directly into the flame, instead showing him where to hold it to allow for a more even roast. 

“You want to keep it moving so it gets an even cook,” you explained, Jesse watching you intently. “How you cook it is a personal preference—I personally like it when it’s a little crisp on the outside—but I would see how you like it golden first. That’s the classic way.”

Naturally, Jesse lit his on fire in an instant, Pyotr letting his swell so far that it fell off and disappeared into the flame. Andrei’s eyes stayed on you, studying the way you rotated the marshmallow, observing it periodically to ensure an even bake. When he was done, you showed him how to stack the sandwich and place the crackers to pull off the marshmallow cleanly. It was weirdly sweet and intimate and… domestic. You were quick to brush the thought away, like a bug that landed on your arm.

His smile when you handed him the s’more was more rewarding than the actual taste of your own. “Your first s’more.”

“Sah… more.”

“Close enough,” you said, then raised yours. “Cheers.”

Drunk, full, and smelling entirely of campfire smoke, you crawled into bed a few hours later content and happy. You didn’t even mind the dip in the bed beside you, or the soft sound of his breathing in the silence of the room. In fact, you found it almost soothing, allowing it to lull you to a seltzer-infused sleep.

It was the sneeze that woke you up, startling you from a dream you were having about Andrei. The details were hazy, but you remembered a sense of warmth and a flash of his dimple, along with the depth of his voice…

Murmuring a ‘bless you,’ you wrapped your arms around the pillow you were holding onto tighter as you snuggled in, hoping to fall back asleep for a little while longer.

But then the pillow started shaking, and the sound of deep laughter erupted beneath your ear, and all at once you realized it was not a pillow that you were hugging at all, but a human. And not just any human, but a man—a tall, handsome, Russian man. One who you were supposed to despise. No, one you did despise.

With a jerk, you pulled away, sleep still clinging to your eyes despite your surprise. “Fuck, what the—m’sorry.”

As your vision began to clear, you squinted amidst the light to see Andrei, grinning so wide his missing tooth was visible. The cross on his chest was crooked from sleep, and his hair was mussed in a really delicious, sexy way that reminded you of—

“We were supposed to keep to our separate sides,” you said, quickly retreating back to yours. The sheets were cold, and you instantly missed the warmth he provided as you tugged the blanket up to your chin to hide the goosebumps that erupted over your skin.

“I did,” he said, and even though he was right, it didn’t stop you from being annoyed. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Or move me?” you scoffed. You’re making it harder to hate you.

He shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. It didn’t bother me.  I know I’m a bit of a blanket hog when I sleep, so if I can keep you warm, I’m more than happy to.”

It was so sweet it was infuriating. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply chose to offer a, “Thanks,” before sliding out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 

The warmth of his body tingled against yours as you changed into your swimsuit, though you did your best to shake the feeling. 

The next few days passed quickly, a blur of swimming, catnapping in the sun, and full of laughter. You and Andrei managed to form an unusual routine, splitting privacy in the bathroom and generally avoiding each other outside of what was necessary. Since you were the only single members of the group, it was only natural for you to be paired up from time to time, adding to the already uncomfortable dynamic, but you made it work with minimal complaining. 

His kindness irritated you. It seemed genuine, almost like he couldn’t help himself, but it also felt like he was subtly—or not so subtly—trying to make up for what he did. It was strange that he’d never come out and addressed it, but, then again, neither did you, instead keeping that layer of vulnerability buried deep. When you complained, Nykki simply rolled her eyes at you, so you learned to keep it to yourself and let it fester. Surely a healthy option. 

It kept cropping up, though, when he’d return from the cooler with an extra drink for you and when he would check to make sure you had enough blanket before going to sleep, or the time that you turned around to ask Monica to rub sunscreen into your back only to find she’d dozed off and he volunteered bashfully. 

“I’m not going to bite, you know.”

“I might,” you said, mostly teasing but not entirely. You felt a little bad at the surprise on his face, unsure whether to laugh or to drop the sunscreen bottle and walk away. Unfortunately, the feeling of his large hands rubbing your back was divine, almost sinful, and you caught a small moan moments before it slipped past your lips. 

You found it almost nauseating to constantly flip back and forth between loathing, lust, and whatever else was in between. One moment, he’d be irritating the hell out of you, and the next, you found yourself daydreaming about the way his chain bumped against your chin when he—

“I know it’s pretty late in the day, but I brought you a coffee. The way that you like it.”

The sound of his voice made you jump, and Andrei murmured a soft apology. You were lying on a beach chair, sunbathing, engrossed in a romance book in which the main male character reminded you a little too much of the man you were sharing a bed with. The man who was standing beside you, offering you a coffee. He’d taken note of the way you’d rummaged through the small collection of spices in the kitchen, sprinkling a little bit of cinnamon on your coffee, and, without a word, continued to prepare your coffee that way every morning. 

See? Infuriating. 

Accepting the glass from his outstretched hand, you allowed the irritation that bubbled inside of you to simmer for a moment. You really did try to swallow it, to let the olive branch be enough, but then the words were blurting out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Can you stop being so nice to me?”

Andrei’s brows knitted together, confused. You hated how dumb and cute he looked when he was confused. “Stop… being… nice to you?”

Well, when he said it like that, it sounded stupid.

“Look,” you sighed, “I am trying to be cordial because I made a promise to Nykki not to cause a fuss this week. I appreciate that you’re being so kind, but honestly, it really isn’t necessary. The bare minimum is fine with me.”

Ignoring the pang of guilt you felt when a look of hurt crossed his face, you sat firm while his eyes locked with yours. He was confused; you could see it in his eyes, and you resisted the urge to punch him for having the audacity to be upset that his feelings got hurt.

“I don’t even know why you hate me,” he finally said, quietly, sitting on the edge of the other chaise, eyes cast down at the deck. 

“I don’t—I don’t hate you, Andrei, you just–” you paused, briefly flashing back to the sight of the girl in last night’s dress. Then, you continued, hating how small your voice had gotten in the brief pause. “I thought we had something going, before.”

“We did,” he said quickly, looking up to meet your gaze, like he was surprised that you’d acknowledged your past. “At least I thought we did. I was crazy about you. I think maybe I still am.”

His words struck through your heart, softening the icy crystals that had surrounded it–though, admittedly, they’d turned more into slush over the last week with him. Confusing, infuriating, messy slush. “Then why… how could you–?”

Concern washed over Andrei’s face, turning to face you fully. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw her,” you said meekly. “Your ex–Maya–leaving your apartment that day. In last night’s clothes. I was coming to surprise you with a smoothie. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was a walk of shame, Andrei.”

Andrei’s eyes widened, and he turned onto his back before scrubbing his face with his hands. It took you a moment to realize he was smiling–laughing, actually. Instantly, you were filled with rage; how could he be laughing at you in a moment like this?

You sat up, the urge to punch him in the face passing quickly and making way to being fully ready to move your things to the couch, unwilling to even be in his presence any longer. What a fucking asshole.

“No, wait, I’m sorry—I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he said, sitting up too, your movement catching his attention. The smile on his face had faded almost instantly, though there were still remnants of laughter in his eyes. Unamused, you paused, mentally giving him 10 seconds to start explaining or else you were marching back up to the house and making him sleep on the couch. 

“You aren’t going to believe me, but we didn’t—I didn’t… nothing happened between us that night, I swear.”

You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, then blinked at him as if to say, ‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’

“I was out with the guys that night—I think I’d told you that—and she showed up at the end of the night. I said hi to her just to be nice, but she was pretty lit up. And there was a guy there who was being kind of creepy, and… she was just so drunk, I didn’t think she could make it home safe, you know? So I told her she could come back to my place.”

And? That doesn’t mean that you didn’t hook up with your ex that you broke up with and then went on a date with me, you thought. 

“I let her take my bed, and I slept on the couch,” he continued, as if he was privy to the thoughts in your head. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t have done that to you, and I wouldn’t have even wanted to with her anyways. Not after I met you.”

You swallowed. “You didn’t… sleep with her?”

“No.”

Your heart sank as his words set in. Not because you were disappointed—in fact, you thought you were relieved—but mostly because in a matter of 3 minutes, you’d gone from annoyed, to fuming mad, to mortified beyond belief. You’d spent an entire 6 months hating this man for something he didn’t even do, all because you didn’t have the decency or decorum to confront him about it, and instead gave him the cold shoulder like a 14-year-old girl. You wished you could curl up into a ball and bury yourself beneath the towel forever.

Unable to bear his eyes on you, you covered your face with your hand as if it would take away the burning in your cheeks. 

“Andrei, I–” you stopped, the embarrassment far too strong to continue speaking for a moment. Then, swallowing, you decided on, “I feel like such a dick.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “I would’ve been mad too, if I thought what you did. I’m honestly just glad you don’t hate me.”

“Oh my God,” you cried out, laughing at yourself as yet another hot wave of shame washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andrei.”

He smiled, his eyes soft on you in a way that said there was nothing to apologize for, even though you felt like you could—and likely would—continue to apologize every single day for the next six months, the same amount of time you’d spent hating him for nothing. The amount of time you’d wasted when you could’ve been with him.

What was worse, you realized, was that he’d been nothing but kind to you the whole time. Despite your more-than-frosty attitude, snarky quips, and general annoyance, he still stayed upbeat and chipper, never letting it dull his spirit. Marty had been true to his word, after all—not that you’d ever really doubted him.

“Could I—could I kiss you? Please?”

His question had your eyes snapping up to meet his, as if to make sure he wasn’t just pulling a prank on you. He was smiling, but not in a teasing way, and he was watching you, searching for any sign of hesitation. 

“I’m sorry if that’s too forward. I just… I never heard from you again, but I didn’t know what happened, and I dreamt of what I’d do if I ever got the chance with you again.”

Your heart of ice melted into a puddle, trickling warmth in your chest. He’d never given up hope despite your most irritable, ruthless, horrible self. He’d never given up on you.

Meekly, still shy from your horrific embarrassment, you nodded, letting him scoot closer to you before he was leaning into you, pausing just before his lips touched yours to allow you to change your mind. You didn’t, instead closing the small gap and pressing your lips to his.

It was sweet, soft, like the marshmallow in the s’more you’d made for him a few nights prior, filling your heart with warmth that you hadn’t felt since the last time he kissed you. In an instant, all of the irritation, sadness, anger dissipated, floating away with the feeling of his lips. 

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help the grin that spread on your face; it was automatic, curling upward until your cheeks hurt.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week,” he confessed, licking his lips as if to savor the taste of you.

“Maybe you should make up for lost time, then.”

His triumphant smile was the last thing you saw before his lips were back on yours, reacquainting themselves with your mouth. Large hands were quick to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him—not that you had any desire to pull away. 

Your heart was pure liquid as he kissed you, surging through the clouds like a high speed jet, and you were unable to stop your tongue moving of its own accord to flick at the seam of his mouth. Andrei was quick to pick up the slack, allowing his own tongue to deepen the kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair and you sighed against his mouth, feeling the embers in your belly roaring to life under his touch. 

He wasn’t close enough, your body yearning for more. Fortunately, he seemed to be on the same page, his hands parting with your head in favor of trailing down your sides to your hips, encouraging you to shift until you were straddling his lap. It still wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, not with the way his hands began to trail fire underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding against your skin. In a matter of moments, you’d gone from furious, to morbid embarrassment, to clouded with lust as you were enveloped by a blanket of steam.

When you heard the sound of Jaffa’s enormous paws bounding down the dock, it took a few seconds to remember that you were in a public space—far more public than you’d have preferred, given you were moments away from being topless. Quickly, you pulled away and slid off of Andrei, running a hand over your lips in an attempt to straighten up your appearance as you heard Jesse and Pyotr’s voices echoing down the path.

You snuck a quick glance at Andrei, whose lips definitely looked swollen, and his eyes were shining in a way that made you want to kiss him again. His eyes caught yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that washed over your face when he smiled at you.

Once Jesse and Pyotr reached the platform, they looked at the two of you sitting side by side underneath the cabana, though neither of them said anything. Pyotr’s eyes lingered for a beat longer, catching Andrei’s in a way that said he’d already figured out everything that just happened. You knew because it was the same way Nykki looked at you a few minutes later, pausing ever so briefly to look at the few inches of space between you before she was back to her task of putting Gigi’s life vest on.  

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, distracted briefly by a rousing game of volleyball and tossing a water frisbee in the ocean for Jaffa and Gigi. Nykki had made a reservation at a nice restaurant on the beach at sunset, so you headed up to the house a bit early to shower and get ready. Alone in the bathroom, you had a few moments of quiet to yourself to reflect on how your world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.

The contrast of feelings was strong, almost giving you emotional vertigo—moving so quickly from hate to… what? Figuring out how you felt about Andrei was going to be a strange journey, you thought, but something inside of you was eager to find out. As you thought about him, attempting to remove the incorrect assumptions you’d made about him, all of your other memories of him were fond, happy even, and you found that you were cautiously excited to spend more time with him without the hate-tinted-glasses. 

Naturally, the other part of you was hesitant, unwilling to trust him despite the fact that he’d already debunked your reason for mistrusting him in the first place. Though it wasn’t intentional, he’d still hurt you, or, rather, you were hurt by what you thought he’d done, which meant the possibility of him hurting you again was still there, regardless of the intention. No matter what Marty said, or promised, the door for getting your heart crushed was wide open. And that terrified you.

As you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your mind, a soft knock on the door startled you, nearly missing a poke in the eye from your mascara wand. 

“Can I come in?” Andrei’s voice was low, muffled by the door.

You hummed in approval, taking note of the flutter in your heart when he pushed the door open, a smile already on his face. His hair was wet, still dripping from a dip in the ocean, droplets sitting enticingly on his chiseled abdomen; you resisted the urge to watch one of them roll past the hem of his swimming trunks. 

“I, um,” he stuttered, casting his eyes down like he’d just intruded on a private moment, “I need to take a quick shower. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled—genuinely—and finished the last swipe of mascara. “I’m almost done anyways.”

Heat rose in your cheeks as he smiled again, squeezing behind you as you put your makeup away. Things were definitely different, a complete 180 from where you were at the beginning of the week. The feeling in your chest reminded you of how you’d felt after your first date: giddy, like a teenage girl with a crush. And you couldn’t deny the attraction you still had for him, the low pulse in your belly ever-present around his dimple and sculpted arms. 

Andrei stepped out of the bathroom as you were adjusting the straps on your dress in the bedroom mirror, and your eyes flicked to him in the reflection. Of course, his towel was slung low around his waist, the steam around him symbolic in more ways than one.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes connecting with yours. “You look really pretty.”

“Thank you, Andrei,” you said, bashful, resisting the urge to add, ‘You look really pretty, too.’

Tension was thick between you two in the car, though if anyone noticed, no one said anything. Perhaps, you thought, everyone assumed it was the usual distaste and bickering, but part of you wondered if everyone else could sense the change that had occurred between you in the lower level bedroom. His leg pressed against yours, strong and firm, warmth seeping into your own thigh as you did your best to ignore it.

Dinner would’ve been fine, if not for the fact that Andrei’s eyes continually drifted to yours, a sparkle in them like he knew a secret that you didn’t. The glow of the sunset looked like heaven shining on his face, bright and warm in a way that complemented his smile perfectly. He looked like a god, or some kind of divinity, with his perfect bone structure and the deep boom of his laugh.

All at once, it hit you. While yes, you’d made some incorrect assumptions, you used his ex-girlfriend as a crutch to run away because, really, he scared you. He was the first man to ever make you feel so comfortable, so naturally at home; the first one who had real potential of being somebody to you. You did like Andrei—maybe, probably, deep down, you never stopped. 

And if the way his hand lingered on yours when he helped you step into the car was any indication, maybe he felt the same way, too.

Once your revelation struck, it was difficult to think of anything else. It was like a curtain had been pulled back, a spotlight had been cast on everything Andrei. His commentary no longer peeved you, but made you laugh, endearing him to you and deepening the hole he’d made in your heart. His presence, rather than bothering you, enthralled you and set sparks alight in your chest. How could you have missed this?

Back at the Airbnb, a fire was quickly built and everyone gathered for another round of drinks and s’mores for dessert. Up until that day, it had been your favorite part: sitting around the crackling flame, telling stupid jokes and stories that eventually melded into deep conversation. But sitting there, mere feet away from Andrei, less than three hours removed from a realization that turned your world upside down, you could hardly wait until you could be alone with him in the privacy of your room. For the first time, you were looking forward to crawling into bed beside him.

Though you tried your best to act cool, you couldn’t help but glance at your wrist every five minutes, waiting all-but-patiently for everyone to decide they were ready for bed. Your lips burned from where he had kissed you, the feeling of his hands on your body seared on your skin. The warmth between your legs returned—or maybe it never left. If he was as excitedly nervous as you were, he didn’t show it; his relaxed exterior was almost enough to fool you that nothing had even happened between you, save for the low, subtle glances your way that told you no, it hadn’t been your imagination, and yes, he was very much anticipating lights out as much as you were.

It took everything in you not to run downstairs once the final embers of the dying fire were extinguished with water, instead matching Pyotr’s pace as he leisurely made his way back up to the house. You bid him goodnight, watching him turn down the hallway toward his room, and after checking that no one else was around to see you, you darted down the stairs toward the bedroom.

Andrei wasn’t far behind you, the sound of the door clicking shut catching your attention as you worked through your evening skincare routine. The tension between you was almost physically palpable as he sidled into the bathroom beside you, holding your gaze in the mirror.

As he brushed his teeth, his foot side-stepped to nudge yours, a subtle gesture that held so much more meaning. You smiled around your own toothbrush, very aware of his eyes on your ass as you bent forward to rinse. Part of you wished he’d take you right there, but then you thought about how much more space you’d have if you could just be patient for a few more minutes. 

Painstaking though they were, eventually you crawled under the covers, anxious butterflies swarming in your chest as you watched him slip into the bed beside you. For the first time that week, you both intentionally crossed the invisible line separating the two halves of the bed, meeting in the middle in a tangle of limbs and hurried kisses, like making up for all of the time you’d wasted. 

It wasn’t long before the pajamas you had thrown on were removed—part of you wondered why you even bothered, until he was chasing the fabric with his mouth, trailing slow kisses along your skin to replace the warmth. His hands traced the line of your spine, arching your back while his lips created constellations on your chest. Finally, his mouth followed the collar of your shirt past your neck, pausing to run his tongue along the column of your throat.

Once your shirt was tossed on the ground, he held eye contact with you as he descended back down your body, hands cupping your breasts before his mouth was on them, sucking and licking with a low groan. Your legs parted to allow him to settle between them while his hands worked their way down to your hips, reaching beneath you to squeeze your ass. The movement elicited a soft sigh from your lips, trying your hardest to stay as silent as possible to avoid anyone hearing you.

“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmured against your chest, “even though I wasn’t supposed to.”

Your mind was hazy, registering confusion a few moments late. “Why not?”

He paused, pulling back to look at you with an amused expression. “I thought you hated me until about four hours ago. Remember?”

Having his lips parted from your body allowed for a moment of clarity, and you laughed bashfully. “Oh, right.”

Nudging your nose with his, he smiled warmly before returning his lips to yours. You could feel his hands toying with the hem of your underwear, the grin curling on his lips against your mouth.

“What did you say earlier? I have to make up for lost time?”

Before you could even process a response, his hands were tugging your hips toward him, settling onto his stomach to make a trail of wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. The outgrown stubble on his jaw scratched at your skin, but you yearned for more, spreading your legs to encourage him to travel farther.

You could feel his chuckle against your skin, perhaps pleased with your eagerness, but instead of giving in to your silent request, he simply switched to the other leg. It wasn’t until you whined that he granted a small reprieve, pressing a kiss against your center, inhaling deeply.

“I sure missed you,” he murmured quietly, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to your pussy. Perhaps both.

And then finally, his finger hooked into your panties, tugging them to the side as he feasted his eyes on you. His eyes were wide, tongue darting out to lick his lips like he’d just been presented with a five course meal. 

Andrei dove in, his tongue attacking your folds with an intensity you’d never seen before. He laved at your wetness, groaning once the taste of you hit his tongue, arms wrapping around your legs as he settled in. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow was delicious, sending sparks through your body that had every nerve alight in a glow. 

It wasn’t long before your fingers were carding through his hair, your legs pressing against his head as he worked you through an eye-rolling orgasm, doing your best to stay quiet. He was steady, patient, coaxing you through the final waves of pleasure, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much. I doubt it, you thought.

You barely had time to process any words, brain fuzzy and toes tingly, before Andrei’s mouth was trailing its way back up your body, leaving a messy trail of his saliva and your cum on your stomach. Soon, his lips reached yours, reclaiming your mouth like he could barely stand to be away from it—though, if the rigid erection pressing against your belly was any indication, he liked the alternative plenty.

Which reminded you of a fleeting thought you’d had when his tongue was buried inside of you, which was that you wanted his dick. Very badly, in fact. So badly, that you didn’t even realize your hips were rolling up into him with a mind of their own.

“Andrei,” you whispered against his lips. Your hand fumbled its way down the toned peaks and valleys of his muscles, your final destination standing proudly at attention as it bumped against your pelvis. He twitched when you brushed him through his shorts. “Want you. Need you.”

He hummed, and then you felt his lips curl into a smile against your mouth. “Yeah?”

“Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” his voice was low, murmured against the skin of your neck as he trailed down. “Tell me.”

A whimper left you, and he nipped at your collarbone to remind you to stay quiet. “Y- your dick, Andrei. Please. Fuck me.”

Andrei paused, pressing his head against your sternum as he let out a guttural groan. “Been wanting to hear you say that for so long.”

His words earned a flutter in your chest, quickly heightened when his mouth attached to your nipple. He wasn’t in any hurry, and he seemed to be enjoying making you wait impatiently. Not that you could really think clearly with his tongue drawing sinful circles across your breast, sucking in a way that could only be described as worship. 

You weren’t sure if it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes later, but eventually he finally wrenched himself away from your body in favor of removing his shirt. Greedily, your hands moved to drag themselves over the impressive muscle of his core, feeling the ridges with your fingers the way you’d been dreaming of all week. Your attention span was cut short, though, when your eyes were drawn to the waistband of his shorts, fighting for its life to restrain the very erect appendage tucked beneath it.

Andrei wasn’t moving fast enough, and you felt like you were moments away from tears if you didn’t get him inside you right then, so you took the initiative to tug down his shorts. The sound of skin slapping against skin covered the sound of your sharp inhale at finally seeing him, completely bare again.

“God,” you said, “it’s so fucking… pretty.”

A smirk formed on his face, and briefly, you wondered how many girls had told him that before. Probably a lot. But they weren’t wrong; everything about the man felt like he’d been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. 

Lowering himself down over you, caging your head in between his arms, he pressed another scorching kiss to your lips that sucked the air clean out of your lungs. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

In any other circumstance, you probably would’ve become bashful with a shy smile, but you could feel the heavy weight of his dick resting against your thigh, throbbing, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything else. You spread your legs, allowing him to fall into the cradle of your hips, before rolling them upward in an attempt to entice him.

He loved it, drinking in your enthusiasm in contrast to the sharp glares and snarky comments you’d given at the beginning of the week. But he didn’t let it deter him, instead taking a hand and tracing the outline of your lip with his pointer finger. You savored the warmth of it before he was dipping it into your mouth, then a second. Surely he could feel the vibration of your moan against his digits, smiling to himself when your tongue swirled around them.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

Shivering under his praise and eager to earn more, you sucked on his fingers the way you’d suck on his dick, blinking up at him like how you’d seen in pornos. He licked his lips, enjoying the sight, a low “good girl” escaping.

His hand left your mouth, a messy string of saliva keeping you connected until his hand was moving to your core, still wet and still throbbing from your first orgasm. Plunging his fingers inside of your entrance, he diligently watched your face for your pleasured reactions, humming to himself when your mouth fell open. 

A long, soft whine escaped, and his free hand was quick to cover your mouth with his palm. His mouth descended along your jaw, whispering hotly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, malyshka. We have neighbors.”

Helpless, you nodded, pleading with your eyes to keep going, don’t stop. The movement of his hand was steady, patient, striking with intention and precision to have you keening quietly beneath him. Pleasure flooded you in waves, radiating from the pulse of your core, throbbing wantonly around his fingers. His thumb pressed against your clit, drawing slow circles in time with his movements.

The man was a Russian god, plain and simple. For all of the bitching you’d done about his extracurricular activities, you couldn’t find a single complaint now that his fingers were lodged inside of you and he was utilizing his extensive experience to your advantage, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.

But it wasn’t enough, not quite, not when you could feel his erection bobbing against your leg. You whispered his name, quiet but loud enough for him to remove his hand, eyes searching yours for a sign of resistance.

“Andrei,” you repeated. “I need you.”

A grin broke out on his face, though his hand didn’t budge from between your legs. “Fuck, baby. Say that again.”

With a burst of confidence, you reached between your bodies and pulled his fingers out of you, suppressing a whine in the process. Smoothly, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled his hand up to your mouth, taking his digits in your mouth again. He groaned as you sucked off your own essence, savoring the taste and briefly wondering what you’d taste like full of him. 

“I said,” you purred, licking your lips, “I need you.”

Andrei let out a chuckle, shaking his head before biting his lip with a groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I’m pretty sure I already died and went to heaven, you thought, but the words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth.

In an agonizing moment, he tore himself away from your body to retrieve a condom from his bag. He ripped it open and slid it over himself in the few seconds it took him to return to the bed, maneuvering himself between your legs. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came when his skin pressed against yours once more.

With unbearable patience, Andrei watched your face as he slid his tip through your folds, wetting himself with your slick. You whined, feeling yourself throb having him so close to where you wanted–no, needed–him. 

And then, with only a smirk as a warning, he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, though his groan of approval was questionably loud; if you weren’t being nearly split in half with his dick, you’d have had half a mind to scold him.

But then he was moving, experimentally, and all thought flew from your brain, leaving it completely vacant except for his name. His name, whispered in a prayer on your lips as he worked himself deeper, filling you up completely. Your hands fumbled in search of purchase, finding it in the taut muscle of his bicep, flexing deliciously as he held himself over you.

His lips were on you, on your lips, on your jaw, on your neck, intoxicating you until your brain was in a fog of nothing but pleasure. The tight coil in your belly was unraveling, already, brought halfway to climax by his fingers and drawing you instantly closer now that they were replaced by something even better. Confidence rolled off of him despite his eyes closed, like he was concentrating, hanging on for dear life.

“Feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice rough. “Made for me. Missed this. Missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a pang of guilt flashing through the haze when you remembered that you could’ve been doing this the entire time.

“You can apologize to me by saying my name again, kisa.”

So you did. Over and over again, calling for him in hushed whispers as if each time you said it, the shame would fade away just a little bit more. 

“You want me to forgive you?”

You’d forgotten how to speak anything other than Andrei, and so you nodded, desperately. 

He seized your lips one more time, kissing you deeper than you’d ever been kissed, enough that you were sure you stopped breathing for a moment. His hips ceased their movement, pausing while he was buried inside of you. “Come all over my cock, baby. Then I’ll forgive you.”

It didn’t take much effort to flip him over onto his back, his hands quick to find your hips to help guide you to your place on his lap. You took the liberty of teasing him back, dragging your core along his rigid length with your hands planted on the firm muscle of his chest. The action alone sent sparks coursing through your body; you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to realize the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours. 

Sinking onto him, you bit your lip to hide a moan. You didn’t waste any time finding a rhythm, rolling your hips to bring yourself up to the crest. His chest was steady beneath your fingers, and you found it hard not to swoon under his gaze, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars, like he couldn’t believe you were there, with him, in that moment.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, hitching when you circled your hips and brought a hand to your pelvis. He murmured a few words of encouragement, his jaw tense as he fought off his own impending orgasm, watching the way the pad of your finger brushed your clit. 

“Andrei,” you whispered, just wanting to feel his name on your tongue. “Right there.”

“Yeah? Like that, dorogoy?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and squeezed your eyes shut. His hand sought out your free one, lacing your fingers together as he hummed prayers of worship at your altar. It was quiet, and mixed slightly with Russian, but you made out a few words like “beautiful” and “want to feel you” amid the low whisper of his voice.

Before you could process or even choke out a warning, your climax hit you all at once, the way a roller coaster tips over the edge just before the drop. Heat flooded your entire body, a brightness washing over you as the pleasure wracked through you in waves. Distantly, you felt his hand squeezing yours and heard the vague sound of a groan as he hit his own peak.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, slumped against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the two of you became one tangled mess of sweaty limbs and heavy panting. As your heart began to settle down, you felt his fingers tracing shapes along your spine, soothing you.

“D’you think anyone heard?” you asked.

“You kind of… screamed. So they definitely know.”

“Oh.” You felt instant mortification creeping in, mind briefly wandering to how you were going to explain this to Nykki. But then his hand was moving to thread through your hair, combing through it with his fingers, the feeling sending those delicious tingles down your spine.

Eventually, though it broke your heart to do it, you parted from him to allow the both of you to clean up. Once you were back in bed, tucked beneath the covers, you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your face as the reality of the moment set in.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

He paused, tugging you into him and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said.  --

EPILOGUE

Checking your watch for what felt like the fifth time in less than a minute, you sighed impatiently. Six weeks ago, you’d bid farewell to your on-again-sort-of-boyfriend with a series of kisses and a heavy heart. It felt unfair to have had so little time together from the end of your vacation to his departure for his homeland, but you reminded yourself that it was your fault for the poor timing. Still, you’d managed to keep in touch with regular texts and daily FaceTime calls, more often than not ending with you kicking your feet and giggling at the ceiling, though sometimes they left you feeling a different kind of giddy. The man was good with his words, you had to admit, and the deep timber of his voice, even through the phone, could send goosebumps trailing across your skin with a deep shiver and a flip of your belly.

When your phone buzzed, you almost hated yourself for how quickly you reacted, smiling to yourself when you saw his name pop up on your screen.

[Andrei:] Just left the airport. I’ll see you soon 😘

Waiting was nearly unbearable, but worth it when you heard the knock at your door. With a grin, you pulled open the door and launched yourself into his arms without a second thought, laughing at his slight “oof” he let out. 

Eventually, he set you down, hands keeping their place on your hips as he smiled at you. “Hi.”

“Hi. I missed you.”

“Oh, you did? I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up,” you said, giving him a playful shove. 

Andrei set his bag by the door, unceremoniously plopping on the couch before gesturing for you to join him. After what felt like eons, it felt so good to press your cheek against his warmth, feel the weight of his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said a few moments later. You hummed, content and almost not wanting to ruin the moment. “I have something to tell you.”

His words gave you pause, sitting up to look him in the eye. He was bashful, smiling, and for a moment you were astounded by how handsome he looked: the 2-day scruff that you loved on him, his dimple peeking out, the glitter of happiness in his eyes, tired from travel.

He took a breath. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and you looked at him with concern. 

“I know it hasn’t been very long, since we…”

“Rekindled.”

Andrei smiled. “Yes. That.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted whatever he was about to say, blurting out, “I love you.”

You froze, jaw dropping in horror when you realized what you’d said. It came out of nowhere, a fleeting thought that unexpectedly made its way to your mouth, and you looked at him, prepared for an immediate goodbye.

But instead he was smiling—grinning, actually. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, but you’re ten steps ahead of me.”

Heat flooded your cheeks and you covered your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for jumping the gun. I didn’t—that wasn’t supposed to come out. You don’t have to say it back.”

You felt his touch warm on your arm, gently bringing your hands down from your face. His finger tilted your chin toward him. He was looking at you, smiling, eyes warm and happy. “Answer my question first.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

He rolled his eyes, then straightened out and with a flourish of his hand, said, “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“Okay, you didn’t have to make it sound like a proposal,” you said, nudging his leg to let him know you were joking. “But yes, of course.”

Andrei smiled, moving to cup your face in his hand to bring it closer to him and press a kiss to your lips. He hummed, kissing you deeper, and in an instant, liquid heat began to weave its way through your bloodstream.

He pulled away, almost abruptly, earning a whine from you. You were nowhere near ready to be done kissing him, but then he tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled again. 

“I love you, too, by the way.”

SIMILAR CONTENT:

The Mystery of Love* Third Time's the Charm* Sundress Season*

[pommigranite]

egg saga pt 2

<<; prev | next >>

this was quite literally supposed to be just one thing, but since so many people had questions/wanted it to continue, let's make this a fun little adventure for everyone lmao

[phoebepheebsphibs]

A lil sumthin' sumthin' to say...

Thanks for enjoying the story and drawings!

Your reactions, artwork, and many words of encouragement have been amazing. There are so many people who have enjoyed the story and were such an amazing motivation. There are a few specific people that I wanna acknowledge, though...

(Disclaimer, most of the sona designs were based off of piccrew posts I went digging for or were based on user icons lol)

Of course we have to start with @boots-with-the-fur-club!

Thanks for letting me continue the story you started! I didn't expect it to grow as much as it did, but the more I wrote, the more the world around it grew and evolved and it became this huge multi-chapter, multi-arced saga. I always get so excited when I see you post a new story and I wait in anticipation for every reaction you leave on my updates. Thanks so much for the advice you give, little blurbs you wrote, and moments when you fangirled over stuff with me! I have never been so inspired to write/draw/create in my life, and for that I am truly grateful.

@daboyau your interactions and reactions were very special and meaningful. I haven't known you very long but I can already tell how talented a writer you are and I may be just a bit intimidated by you. You motivate me to be a better writer, to work hard, and to not be shy about my stories! You're a very inspiring writer and every time I see your reactions to my work I freak out a little lol...

@truths33k3r4 I love the design you made for Mikey (I even took some inspiration from your design for my own), and the kind comments you leave always brighten my day! Your artwork continuously brings me joy, and I can't thank you enough for the adoration and adorable "phanart" you've created! You are truly inspiring and wonderful.

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy hands down you leave the funniest comments and have the most hilarious reactions to my stuff dude. I love how excited you get, it lets me know that you're invested and that my story is interesting. Thanks for making me laugh without fail!

@burritello3000 thank you for the comments, reactions, theories, interactions, and general love you consistently give to my stories! It makes me so happy that my blurbs and fics can provide so much entertainment that it in turn gives me entertainment to read your reactions!

@belleyellsaboutturtles your reviews and comments, the reactions you give, and the kind words you leave have inspired and delighted me to no end! It makes me so glad that you have noticed certain things that I write, hidden easter eggs and special clues, and I love how your heart melts from the brotherly moments or the sad lab memories. It's people like you that I write for!

Thanks again to all for how you have inspired me. I just genuinely appreciate your love for the story and hope to continue making stories that draw y'all in wholeheartedly!

[pizzpizzapizzo]

any updates in the egg saga ?

the eggs are contained in the egg corner for now

[unclewaynemunson]

The edancy siblings saga continues! | AO3 link

So, in case it hasn't been made absolutely clear yet: Eddie is not a stalker. He is not stalking Karen and Nancy Wheeler. That is not what's happening here. Seriously. They just... appear wherever he goes, lately. Like on the other side of a window when he's in town with Jeff, headed to the record store to spend their Saturday morning listening to the newly released Motörhead album.

It happens before he really knows what he's doing. He can't even help it, he's just like that sometimes: he'll panic and make dumb decisions as a consequence. It's not even a real decision, this time; blame it on his poor impulse control. He's nothing but an unwilling participant in this situation.

'Eddie, no,' Jeff quietly protests.

Eddie, yes, Eddie's brain loudly counters.

'We're having brunch here whether you want it or not,' he blurts out while pressing the menu in Jeff's hand.

He doesn't think he has ever had brunch in his life – unless having a coffee and a cigarette with Wayne at 12pm on a Saturday counts.

But here he is, about to have brunch in some fancy way-too-expensive looking cafe because he saw a mother and her daughter through a window and his own feet decided to disconnect from his brain and take matters into their own hands. Or rather into their own feet. Or, well, not their feet, his feet don't have feet, that'd be weird as fuck.

Anyway. Apparently he and Jeff are about to have brunch together, with Karen and Nancy Wheeler perfectly lined up in Eddie's vision.

It's a place where neither Eddie nor Jeff would want to be found dead under any normal circumstances. The interior consists of various shades of pink and beige, there are plastic flowers and pink napkins on every table, and the menu on the wall is written in letters so curly that they're barely even readable. The whole place is filled with people from places like Loch Nora and Maple Street, wearing expensive clothes and with even more expensive handbags on the floor next to their chairs. A group of giggling girls that Eddie recognizes as sophomore cheerleaders is sitting in one corner, an old lady with a bunch of blonde nieces or grandchildren in another one, and spread out across the room are countless couples that are all made up of women looking like they just walked out of a copy machine matched with equally bland and bored looking men in button-up shirts. And, among those people, right behind Jeff's shoulder, the woman and the girl who Eddie is very much not stalking.

'What the hell are we doing here, man?' Jeff hisses under his breath. Eddie doesn't quite know who, between the two of them, looks more out of place in here: the trailer park metalhead or the black nerd in the Star Wars shirt.

'Having brunch,' Eddie states, like it's not only obvious but also a perfectly normal thing for them to do. He's not really looking at Jeff, but rather staring right over his friend's shoulder. He tries to imagine himself somewhere at that table; it conjures a truly laughable image in his head.

Jeff is right: what the hell is he doing here? He keeps finding himself on the fringe of a life that will never be his anyway.

'Eddie?'

It sounds worried; Eddie rapidly blinks a few times to get himself back to earth, back to his own table. The one he's sharing with Jeff, who looks at him like he's afraid that Eddie will tell him he has some incurable illness and will die a tragic death within weeks.

'You wanna tell me what's going on?'

But before Eddie can even begin to answer that, they're interrupted by a woman in a pink apron who looks at them from behind her glasses like she's ready to call the cops on them.

'Would you boys like to order something?' she asks in a tone that doesn't conceal very well how desperately she wants the answer to be no.

'Just a coffee, please, ma'am,' Jeff says, at the exact same time Eddie tells her they'll both have 'The brunch special, please, with extra scrambled eggs and bacon.'

He can barely suppress a yelp when Jeff kicks him underneath the table.

The waitress shoots an annoyed, yet slightly helpless, look back and forth between the two boys.

Eddie gives Jeff a pigheaded glance and repeats his order with emphasis.

'What the hell is this all about?' Jeff hisses at him as soon as the waitress has her back turned to them. 'I know you don't have the money for that, I'm not gonna pay for this huge fucking breakfast, dude!'

Eddie widens his eyes while pushing his lower lip forward, causing Jeff to give him another painful kick against his shin – but also to sigh with his head in his hands, which Eddie immediately recognizes as the ultimate sign of defeat.

'Okay, then. But only if you tell me why the hell we're here.'

Almost subconsciously, Eddie brings his hand up to his mouth and starts gnawing at his already chewed-off fingernails. His curls have finally reached shoulder-length, and he likes the way he can hide behind his hair now.

The thing is, he has never talked about this with anyone ever before. He doesn't know if he can. It's not even like he believes he owes Karen Wheeler any of her secrets; of course he doesn't. He simply feels like it's too big to talk about. He cannot foresee the consequences of letting the truth out. Right now, it's just this thing constantly simmering right beneath the surface of his brain; if he actually talks about it with someone, it will undoubtedly become much, much more than that. It'll become something real – something ugly.

Apparently, Jeff catches him staring, because he turns around in his seat to look over his shoulder.

When he whips his head back, his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly agape.

'Dude,' he says, slowly. 'You can only deny it so many times; you do have a crush on Nancy Wheeler!'

Eddie groans and buries his head in his hands.

'Oh my God, please never say that ever again.'

'Holy fuck.' Something resembling malicious glee is coloring Jeff's voice. 'You totally–'

'I said,' Eddie emphatically hisses at him between clenched teeth, 'never say that again.'

'Dude, you should totally ask her out! I'd give you a two percent chance she says yes, but if the gods are willing to grant us that miracle, it'll give me a chance to get closer to Barbara! You should–'

Eddie can't take it any more, not one word of this. He has to put a stop to this right now.

'Remember how I told you I never knew who my mother is?' he blurts out, the words stringing together too fast and his voice slightly too high.

Jeff's face instantly changes into one big question mark.

'Look at her – at Nancy,' Eddie tells him in a hushed voice. 'And at Mrs. Wheeler.'

Jeff dares another glance over his shoulder. Nancy and her mother don't seem to notice a thing about the two metalheads three tables away from them. They're caught up in what looks like a nice and easygoing conversation, full of smiles while they're sipping from large glasses filled with ginger tea.

'Now look at me.'

Jeff looks at Eddie for a full five seconds, neither of them saying a word.

'Dude...' Jeff finally all but whispers. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

Before Eddie can even do so much as nod, the waitress appears out of thin air next to them and ungracefully dumps two huge plates filled with a whole arrangement of breakfast foods on their table.

'Nooooo,' is all Jeff says after the waitress has disappeared, his voice dropped down to a conspiring whispering volume. He stretches out the single syllable into eternity. 'No way. Mrs. Wheeler?! How the fuck is that even possible? Are you, like, sure about it?'

Eddie nods. 'Wayne told me,' he confesses. 'Back when my dad got locked up and I came to live with him. He was the only one who knew. Thought he owed it to me to tell me the truth.'

'Jesus Christ,' Jeff says in-between two huge bites from a croissant that's crumbling all over his lap.

'I know, right,' Eddie murmurs.

'So are we like... Watching them?' he asks with a raised brow. 'You do this often?'

'No, man!' Eddie quickly ensures him. 'Not, like, actively, at least,' he adds, feeling a bit embarrassed. He shoves some more eggs into his mouth to buy himself some more time.

'I dunno why I seem to enjoy hurting myself so much,' he finally explains when his mouth is empty again. 'Whenever I see any of 'em, I just... Can't seem to look away. And I can't help but wonder what it would've been like if she'd made another decision eighteen years ago. I know it's ridiculous, because if she had, Ted Wheeler would never have married her, so those three kids wouldn't even have existed, and it would've been me and her against the world or some bullshit.' He sighs again. 'I know it doesn't make any fucking sense. I'm dwelling on things that aren't even real.'

When he looks up from his toast, he sees Jeff giving him this look that kinda makes him regret sharing anything. He doesn't want to be pitied, for fuck's sake.

'Nah, I get it more than you think, man,' Jeff says quietly. 'I always think about what it would be like if my dad was still here, y'know. It's not just the big moments, when people tell me he'd be proud of me or some shit like that. It's especially in the little moments. The everyday kinda shit. I wonder if he'd have shared music with me, if he'd read the same books as I do, if he'd ever help my mom go grocery shopping, what it would be like if he helped me with my homework... It's only natural that you do that, I think. Maybe we all do it, to a certain extent; rewrite history a little bit in our heads.' He gives Eddie a tight, sad smile.

'It's probably even worse for you,' he continues. 'I only see my dad in pictures and I still miss him like hell every single day. But at least I still have my mom to tell the coolest stories about him. I have a grave where I get to mourn him properly. We have all those made-up rituals to commemorate him together. But you – you got none of that. You only got questions that got answered with more questions. And you get to see your mother and your siblings walk around town all the time, knowing that they have no clue who you are.'

Eddie keeps his gaze focused on the crumbs on the table to prevent himself from showing any emotions he doesn't want to show. Damn, what would he be without Jeff and his boundless amounts of wisdom?

'Wait, does she know?' Jeff suddenly asks.

When Eddie looks up, he sees a frown on Jeff's face, like he's worried about something.

'I don't think so,' he answers. 'I ran into her at Melvald's once. Tried to talk to her, just to see what'd happen. Made a complete fool of myself, of course. It was embarrassing as shit, but at least I can be pretty sure she thought I was just some random lunatic.' He sighs. 'But I'll never be entirely sure.'

Three tables over, the Wheeler ladies have finished their tea and are getting up from their seats.

'You're right, it was stupid going here,' Eddie mumbles.

'It's okay, man,' Jeff says, still in that soft voice filled with understanding. 'The food's pretty amazing. We still got plenty of time to go to the record store when we're done with this. Speaking of which... I bet you fifteen dollars to buy Another perfect day that you can't finish your plate before me.'

Eddie stares at him blankly. 'I don't have fifteen dollars.'

Jeff's face breaks out in a wicked grin. 'Well, in that case you better buckle up and finish your eggs real soon, Munson.'

It doesn't entirely take Eddie's mind off the Wheelers, but he appreciates the gesture so he grins and starts viciously attacking a bunch of sausages. And when he spares a glance towards the bar to see the horrified look on the waitress' face, he finds himself unable to hold in his laughter.

[peachjagiya]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachjagiya/755198778095616000/you-can-do-a-ted-talk-lecture-on-one-taekook?source=share

I will be doing a series of Ted Talks called: "Is it coincidence or is it just......... Taekook?!"

First episode is:

"The Paradox of Oh No, Oh Yes and its Timings" In this episode, we will talk about how Jungkook played the song twice in early 2023. On the 2nd time he did, he played it as the last song with lyrics during his winter ski date concept while watching the stars and "aurora" in March 2023. His words, not mine. He started this portion of his "ARMY date" livestream with high energy, cringing and giggling, then committing to the winter date act. By the end of the stream, minutes after he played Oh No Oh Yes, he was in tears and brushed it off as "rhinitis". 1 month after, April 2023, while JK left SK for the first time in a while to LA and start working on his songs, Taehyung went live and shared that Jungkookie recommended him Oh No, Oh Yes. He even lit a candle because "Jungkookie does it in his live" he then proceeded to play Maybe, a song he penned about someone who told him they are Twin Flames and will melt each other away when the world is cold during winter. The most crucial part of this episode is what happened hours AFTER Taehyung went live and shook fans with the information: Jungkook's brother's IG account posted Oh No, Oh Yes in his story. 🤯 Fast forward to September 4, 2024. Tae went to join Firenze event in Paradise Hotel, the same hotel TaeKook stayed at and filmed Run BTS TikTok challenge. On his way to the event, he posted a story of the sunset with Oh No, Oh Yes in the background. He was there for dinner event. The next morning, Jungkook flew to the US. Note that Paradise Hotel is near to the airport and 4 days prior was his birthday while 2 days after that, September 3, was their 12th year anniversary of meeting eo.

To wrap this Ted Talk up, the lyrics to Oh No Oh Yes:

"More than a ring on a ring finger

I chose a love hidden to the public gaze

Even if I show that I'm a strong woman

Always in my heart

I'm shaking of pain

Oh no, we're two sinners

But no, we can't separate........"

I still have more episodes of this "Is it coincidence or is it just.... Taekook?!" such as dissecting To Find You, Sweetheart Shirts, Dream Premiere and many more. Shall I send a weekly Ask to you so we can all discuss and dissect together? 😁

Omg.

This made me smile so wide! 😁😁😁

The Oh No, Oh Yes saga is one of my favourites because of how spaced out it was, like a continually referenced strand running through the year.

Like sometimes a song is just a song, right? But the way it kept cropping up, it feels special like a little Easter egg 😂 I could hardly believe what I was seeing when Tae posted that sunset 5 months on.

I also love that even the platonic explanation, that they just shared and enjoyed the song, shows their closeness. It's undeniable.

Omg PLEASE send a weekly Ask, that would make me so happy.

Thanks anon. I love this. 💜

[pluckyredhead]

We made it, you guys! I'm wrapping up my blitz through all the Fourth World canon. I've already covered the comics of the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, and the 00s, so now let's get into everything post-Flashpoint!

Wonder Woman (2011): I'll be honest: this series is Not Valid, and Orion only shows up as a supporting character for about a dozen issues, so I just skimmed his appearances rather than actually reading the whole volume. Anyway this version of Orion slaps Diana's ass and hits on her relentlessly and isn't even from Apokolips. Highfather is emotionally abusive. No one else from the Fourth World even shows up. Throw it all directly in the trash.

Infinity Man and the Forever People (2014): Genuinely who was asking for a New 52 book about the Forever People (the most optimistic of Kirby's creations) written by Dan DiDio (a man on the record as saying he wanted "to take the smile out of comics")? Shockingly, it's not as bad as I was bracing myself for. I mean, the lore changes are baffling (Darkseid and Highfather are brothers! the Infinity Man is Highfather's conscience and that's why New 52 Highfather's such a dick all the time! Big Bear is from Apokolips and has a secret, angrier face because he's like a bonus Orion now!). And the art rotates through four or five different artists and all of the issues not drawn by Tom Grummett are hideous. But mostly it's just very boring and pointless? Let's all ignore it forever.

Green Lantern/New Gods (2014): Hey, do you remember when Green Lantern was one of DC's most successful franchises and they were publishing five simultaneous GL-related ongoings and they oversaturated the market so badly they could barely keep one GL book going until recently? I'm not saying shit like this is what killed the goose that laid the golden egg, but...I'm not not saying that either. (No seriously, I am genuinely fascinated by whatever the fuck DC did to the Lanterns in the 2000s and 2010s as, like, a publishing cautionary tale, but that's a story for another post.)

This was a three-month crossover across all five GL books - Green Lantern (Hal's book), Green Lantern Corps (John's book), Green Lantern: New Guardians (Kyle's book), Red Lanterns (Guy's book), and Sinestro - plus a New Gods one shot and a GL annual. That's 17 issues that are meant to be read in order to follow the story, and then you can optionally also read the tie-in issues of Infinity Man and the Forever People, which makes a whopping total of 20 issues dedicated to this storyline.

So what was the plot of this grand saga? Uh...Highfather tries to steal all the rings of every Corps like he's the fucking Trix Rabbit or something. The end.

Yeah, it's a mystery what killed the GL publishing juggernaut. 🙄

(Side note: this crossover adds a brand new Original Character Do Not Steal who is from Apokolips and was raised by Highfather and has a Secret Rage Face. After Infinity Man and the Forever People also gave Big Bear a Secret Rage Face. STOP STEALING ORION'S SHIT. You don't need extra bonus Orions, Regular Orion is right there!)

Bug! The Adventures of Forager (2017): This is a very charming, very strange series that isn't in continuity (it was part of the Young Animal imprint) and doesn't really forward the plot of the New Gods in any way, but it's funny and enjoyable. Basically, Forager wakes up after his death in Cosmic Odyssey (29 years prior, for those keeping track) and goes on a time- and reality-hopping adventure in which he interacts with various characters Kirby wrote and drew for DC over the years (although oddly, very few New Gods). It's the sort of series that rewards the long-time comic book reader, but I still enjoyed it even though I was very aware I was missing references. I wouldn't recommend it if you're brand new to comics, though.

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps (2016): Orion's in a couple arcs of this run, and they're pretty fun. Orion's heart gets removed from his body and Kyle keeps him alive with a construct! Hal races Lightray! Orion helps the GLs fight a shit ton of Darkstars! There isn't much in the way of advancing New Gods Lore (TM) here, but this is a pretty good series in general. A fun time!

Mister Miracle (2017): Sigh.

You know, the frustrating thing about this series is that some aspects of it are really good. The art is superb. Some of the humor really lands. Funky Flashman as the Frees' nanny is an utter delight. (The bit where he retells the Galactus Trilogy as "Jake's story" is especially charming.) The subtler take on Granny and the way Scott is still wrestling with her abuse and his complicated feelings about her is heartbreaking. And the big twist, when Darkseid demands baby Jacob in exchange for peace, and Scott's agony over the decision, is utterly wrenching. It's such a good conflict to give Scott, to have him try to wrestle with the decision his own father made and what the right answer is. I even believe King read more than one issue of Mister Miracle (1971) to research this! I mean, he references the Lump. That's a pretty deep cut.

But it's all undercut by his decision to make Orion a villain. King's Orion isn't just brutal and wrongheaded, like some earlier writers have portrayed him - he's a vindictive sadist who craves power and enjoys humiliating someone who, in all previous canon, he eagerly embraced as a brother. He has elaborately cruel plans and enjoys making others know their place - Orion, who is historically as subtle and refined as a two-by-four to the head. He's out of character in basically every possible way.

But this isn't just me being like "How dare you get my blorbo wrong?!" (That's my reaction to King's depiction of Lightray as a simpering toady.) Making Orion a villain, as I have said many times at this point, betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the Fourth World's central concept, which is, like...not a hard concept to grok. The point of the baby swap isn't to see whether nature or nurture is stronger. It's that both babies grow up to be heroes. It's that good is stronger than evil. And if Orion isn't a hero, the whole thing falls apart. Instead, we get a bleak and fundamentally unbalanced take on the Fourth World that begins with a suicide attempt and ends with Scott resigning himself to a life from which he desperately wants to escape. And again, again, King's pessimism is mistaken for depth because someone else drew it real good.

Anyway I hate this comic, the end.

Justice League Odyssey (2018): The New Gods didn't really have a home base post-Flashpoint, which is why I'm covering so many books that aren't really New Gods books (Wonder Woman, the various GL books), because my crops are dying and I'm desperate for Orion to show up on his little scooter. Anyway this is actually first and foremost a Jessica Cruz book, which isn't really a complaint because I love her. Basically, Cyborg, Starfire, and Azrael (who is pretty OOC and also why is he here??? he doesn't know these people and he can't breathe in space?????) decide to go on an Illegal Space Adventure and Jessica tries to stop them and they all get swept up into an incredibly convoluted plan by Darkseid to turn everyone but Jessica into a NEW New God and take over the universe? Or maybe destroy it? UNCLEAR. Also the last time they all saw Darkseid he was a baby but now he's not anymore. How? UNCLEAR.

Darkseid kills Jessica but it doesn't take because she's the GOAT, but now he's taken control of Vic, Kori, and JPV, so Jessica has to team up with Orion, Blackfire, and Dex-Starr the Red Lantern cat to defeat Darkseid and rescue the others. Overall this book is so unrelentingly high stakes and cosmic that I kind of tuned out. After a while I just hit "we have to save the universe!!!" fatigue. But a huge part of the second half of the series is just Jessica yelling at Orion until he grumpily does what she tells him, and I truly could have read 40 more issues of that. I hope when it was all over he went and pouted at Lightray about how the Green Lantern was SO MEAN to him (he deserved it).

Verdict: Don't bother to read for New Gods continuity, do read if you love Jessica Cruz.

Mister Miracle: The Source of Freedom (2021): This book reintroduces Shilo Norman to the post-Flashpoint universe as a celebrity superhero and escape artist who aggressively protects his secret identity, because his predecessor Thaddeus Brown, who is Black in this series (and presumably going forward), had a public identity and dealt with horrible racism from the public. But his mask is partially torn off when he's attacked by N'vir Free, the daughter of Scott and Barda Free - who Shilo has never heard of. While Shilo tries to figure out who the Frees are and why N'vir thinks he stole her father's legacy, he also discovers that Thaddeus was secretly his grandfather, and has to unpack all of his emotional hangups about his own identity and legacy.

This is a great book for the humans of Kirby's Mister Miracle and a terrible one for the New Gods. Scott and Barda are not only dead, but their memories have been erased from most people's minds. N'vir is an awful character with a stupid name, and also a fascist dictator, which is...a choice for Scott and Barda's kid. (I'm assuming all of this is either taking place in a different universe than the main DCU, or has been retconned away, because Barda is currently appearing in Birds of Prey and is perfectly fine. And perfectly perfect. Please read Birds of Prey.) Orion does show up for a bit and he's great here, but he doesn't remember Scott either, which hurt my heart.

But it's a great book for Shilo, who gets to be a complicated, endearing but flawed protagonist instead of a sidekick who tends to get forgotten for years at a time. I'm a bit torn on having him be related to Thaddeus, since I like the idea of Shilo becoming a hero on his own smarts and spunkiness rather than inheriting it, but it allows for some really beautiful themes about legacy and being proud of where you come from, so it suits the story really well. And Oberon is a delight the whole way through (as always). Overall a good book, but somewhat to the side of the overall New Gods saga.

THE END. We did it, you guys! Now DC please greenlight a new New Gods book, thank you.

(Actually it should be double length and reversible so when you hold it one way it's a New Gods book and when you flip it to the "back" cover it's a Mister Miracle book and the stories intertwine. Do you see the vision???)

[scruffyplayssonic]

Are the ArchieSonic comics actually an 80's/90's syndicated cartoon? Episode 64 - 65: Two Multi-part Finale (part 7: Sonic X #40)

Welcome back to my investigation of how Archie Comics’ Sonic the Hedgehog series was actually a syndicated cartoon from the 80’s and 90’s! 

Let me tell you - after six posts talking about the Endgame saga, the end of the Knuckles spinoff comics, and the death of the super special series, it’s a relief today to finally get to talk about something not written by Ken Penders. So you guys remember Sonic X, right? “Got ourselves a situation, stuck in a new location”?

It was a fun little anime based around the adventures of our favourite blue hedgehog, which suffered unspeakable atrocities at the hands of the localisation team at 4Kids Entertainment. The show was about the Sonic cast being sent to Earth in an accident and befriending poor little rich boy Chris Thorndyke. The show would feature them fighting Dr. Eggman in a robot of the week format, and in the second season ran arcs adapting Sonic Adventure and Sonic Adventure 2. They also sort of did an adaptation of Sonic Battle. At the end of the second season Sonic and his friends returned to their own planet, and the third season kicked off with an older Chris Thorndyke travelling to Sonic’s world, regressing back to childhood, and joining his friends on a series of adventures in outer space fighting the dreaded Metarex. 

Debuting in September 2005 (around the same time the third season began airing in the US) was Sonic X the comic book, which was a companion book to the anime telling new stories with the same cast and setting. There were all sorts of wacky ideas they were able to do in the comic using the setting of the anime, such as Eggman selling Chao to everyone as pets that would turn vicious and attack, Sonic and friends being trapped in the Sonic 1 video game, Vector being briefly mutated into a kaiju, and Eggman becoming a mexican wrestler named El Gran Gordo!

The majority of this comic was set towards the end of season 2, before Sonic and friends returned to their own world. However the earlier issues played around earlier in the timeline, and we got to see things like Emerl being initially discovered and Eggman in jail following the Egg Moon incident.

Uniquely from the other finales I’m focusing on for this series, the end of the Sonic X comic was actually planned. The creative team wanted to end Sonic X before they risked jumping the shark, and launch a new spin-off - one not limited by the restrictions that the Sonic X setting and characters presented. They wanted this new spinoff to be set back in the main ArchieSonic canon, where they could have more space to explore other characters while Sonic’s adventures continued on in the main book. Essentially, it would be a return to the era of the comic when Sonic and Knuckles both had monthly comics coming out, only the new book, Sonic Universe, wouldn’t be limited to just Knuckles and his companion characters.

Arc #1 was focused on Shadow and the formation of Team Dark, then there was one about Mobius 30 Years Later, then one about Knuckles and the Chaotix, and so on. So when the time came for the Sonic X comic to end, Ian Flynn and the rest of the team did so by making it part of a crossover story that began in Sonic the Hedgehog #195 and 196, continued on into Sonic X #40, and was completed in the first issue of Sonic Universe.

The crossover began with Hedgehog Havoc, a meeting of hedgehogs that has never been matched before or since. Travelling to the Anti-verse, Sonic and Amy were on a mission to kick Scourge the Anti-Sonic out of Freedom HQ and send him back to his home dimension. While there, they’d also had an unfortunate encounter with Rosy the Rascal, the psychotic Anti-Amy. Next to show up was Shadow, who was now an Agent of GUN and had been helping Hope Kintobor test a device that was supposed to send him into the special zone to get a Chaos Emerald. Then Metal Sonic showed up. Having been rebuilt by Dr. Eggman, this newest model had been fitted with a special engine that allowed him to travel to alternate zones. Having not detected Sonic anywhere on Mobius, Metal Sonic travelled to Moebius to find him and join the fight. Finally Silver the Hedgehog made his first appearance, on a mission to kill the traitor that destroyed the Freedom Fighters. He was guided by Amy’s cousin, the archer Rob O’ the Hedge. And so…

Eventually Sonic had the bright idea of convincing everyone to turn on Scourge first, and then they could all sort out their other issues after taking care of the threat he presented. Unfortunately Scourge didn’t want to go quietly, and he used some hidden “Anarchy Beryl” to transform into Super Scourge.

Welp, that escalated quickly. Rationalising that he had no chance against Super Scourge, Metal Sonic returned to his initial directive of trying to murderise Sonic instead.

Shadow stepped in to help, using Metal Sonic’s interdimensional engine with his own Chaos Control to warp them both out of there. So that was one less threat for Sonic to have to deal with. And that’s where the beginning of Sonic X #40 comes in.

Now this next part is interesting to me. When Shadow and Metal Sonic crashed Cream’s tea party, there was a Sonic right there, ripe for the murdering. And that was Metal’s objective, right? To disembowel Sonic and leave a trail of squishy hedgehog organs scattered across the landscape? But no, apparently not:

I guess the implication here is that Metal Sonic changed directives because he was now in an unknown dimension, as opposed to when he landed in the Antiverse. It raises the question of just how much Eggman knows about Scourge’s home planet, but considering that prior to his initial takeover of Mobius he travelled to Anti-Mobius to recruit Evil Sonic to locate the Giant Borg pieces scattered across the multiverse, it’s reasonable to assume that Eggman has documented it. Certainly if not then, then he might have been motivated to further research the Antiverse after Scourge invaded Freedom HQ and warned Eggman he’d also be conquering Eggman’s territories in due time.

So after bonding over having arrived here from other planets (I love the look on Shadow’s face when Sonic told him he was dead xD), Sonic gave Shadow a tour of Station Square.

Yeah, that kind of thing happens in Sonic X. Just smile and nod. The next stop on their little tour was Chris Thorndyke’s school, as Sonic wanted to give Chris a treat. Unfortunately he didn’t really prepare Shadow for this moment.

I love that third panel. xD Chris: This is mine now. See you later, Sonic. Sonic: Bye, Chris! Shadow: Help… me…

Meanwhile, Metal Sonic managed to locate the local Eggman’s base and came knocking at his front door. Bokkun, Bocoe and Decoe were all terrified of their visitor, but Eggman was giddy to be presented with a robotic version of his greatest enemy that he could boss around.

Shadow got to meet Sam Speed next, and ask him the question that I think all of us had been asking since the first episode of Sonic X:

I dunno, it still seems like overkill to me. Let’s just hope that police forces here in the real world don't start doing this too.

While Sam and the hedgehogs were catching up, they were unaware that the shadowy organisation S.O.N.I.C.X. (the same one that had turned Vector into a kaiju) were spying on them. 

Well that was a lucky break for the good guys.

Sonic and Shadow then went down to the beach and this is where Eggman caught up with them. He ordered Metal Sonic to attack, but it was a very brief battle.

In a panic Eggman raced back to his tower to check if he still had Shadow contained, puzzling over what he’d just seen when he found him right where he was supposed to be.

Sonic went back to Chris’ house and reconnected with all his friends, with Rouge and Chris both disappointed to find that Shadow had left.

And that’s where Sonic X, the comic, ended, with Sonic and friends anticipating their next adventure. 

As for Shadow and Metal Sonic, their story continued in issue #1 of Sonic Universe. Shadow found himself teleported to the Sol Dimension via Chaos Control, and teamed up with Blaze and Marine to take down Metal Sonic once and for all*.

*..well, sort of.

But that’s another story. As for this one, it’s fine. Certainly not the greatest thing Ian Flynn has ever written, but it’s a hell of a lot more enjoyable than any of the Ken Penders stories I wrote about recently. It’s got a few funny moments, and the stuff with Chris is genuinely touching, which isn’t easy to pull off with a character that the majority of the fanbase loathes. I never really got into the Sonic X comics, unfortunately. I think I read the first 15 issues before I got bored and stopped buying them. Which is a shame, because I’ve gone back to look at the other issues more recently and there were some fun stories in there, especially the ones about El Gran Gordo.

But this one feels like a nice way to end the series (in comic form, at least - the anime has a whole season left chronologically after this issue) as well as being the springboard to the new Sonic Universe series. Man, I miss Sonic Universe. I really hope we can get an equivalent side series to the IDW Sonic comics one day.

Speaking of the next adventure, next time I’ll be returning to the main Sonic comics as I look at a much darker time in the history of the series - the death of pre-boot ArchieSonic. I’ll be covering Sonic the Hedgehog #247 and Sonic Universe #50, but at this stage I’m not sure whether that will be one post or two. I’ll see how I go. See you then!

[tangledinink]

as per your requests (and because ur all being v cool and voting ty), the gemini egg saga continues. expect parts 3 and 4 later this week.

[ part one ] [ next ]