#tv screen fiasco aside

[snippydippy]

MikuExpo 2024, San Jose in four days!!! I'm so stoked.

[sirfrogsworth]

sirfrogsworth please i am begging to know your boomer uncle’s thought process when he installed all those spam search bars what on earth was he TRUING to do

This was my Uncle Larry. He died in 2014 from a lifetime of smoking.

But while he was alive, he was what my grandma would refer to as "a character."

I feel like seeing his photo gives a partial explanation of the toolbar fiasco.

He was a man stuck in the 1960s but extremely curious about new things.

It was the early 2000s and I was trying to make some extra money. So when he was interested in getting a computer I offered to build him one from scratch.

What I didn't consider about this arrangement was that I was basically signing up to be my uncle's IT person. If something went wrong, it could possibly be due to a mistake I made.

He called me up complaining he couldn't see his websites and that the computer was running slower than normal.

I boot up his system and it takes 10 minutes to get to Windows. The desktop was filled with random programs he installed. And when I opened his web browser I was immediately greeted with a dozen pop up advertisements. Once I nuked them all, all of the different search toolbars were revealed. There was maybe a few inches of space for viewing websites and he had just been looking at photos a segment at a time for weeks before wondering if maybe it wasn't supposed to work like that.

I asked him why he installed all of this crap and he told me he didn't realize he had a choice. He just thought you had to say yes to everything that popped up on the screen. He also opened every spam email he received.

To make matters even worse, when he was searching for lewd pictures of Catherine Bell (aka the "JAG lady" with nice cans), he ended up on various softcore porn sites containing ever more dangerous pop up ads. And he clicked on all of those as well.

He loved the internet. It was a wonderland for such a curious person. He loved typing in random things and just reading and looking at pictures for hours. Aside from Maxim photos of TV celebrities, his searches were pretty innocent. He looked at old cars he used to own and lawnmowers he wanted to buy. He read old war stories and found websites helping him learn how to whittle walking sticks.

But he had no sense of danger. He had a Leroy Jenkins approach to life. He just sort of jumped into whatever without any fear or caution. Which is probably why my parents were so pissed at him when he offered 8 year-old me a ride on his new motorcycle. He immediately took me off-road and up a steep hill without a helmet or telling me to hold on. And it was a Harley, so not really meant for that terrain.

I tried a virus scan and it just said "You have every virus." So I had to nuke his Windows install from orbit. I then gave him computer lessons, which he paid me for, so that sort of worked out despite how frustrating it was to keep him from clicking on random things.

Uncle Larry taught me an important lesson.

Never tell your family you know about computers.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 9.4k

CHAPTER THREE:

Two days pass in a blur of restless thoughts and half-distracted tasks. You and Ava decide to blow off the tension with some much-needed retail therapy, roaming the racks of a bustling mall. It’s easy talk at first but eventually, the conversation circles back to the night everything exploded.

“So,” Ava prods, turning a hanger in her hand, “you gonna tell me more about you and Chris making out, or are you gonna keep me in the dark forever?”

You flush, half-hiding behind a hoodie you have no intention of buying. “It just… happened,” you mumble, recalling the heated kiss and the way things nearly went further. “I was hammered. He was there. We were alone. You know.”

Ava’s grin widens, catlike. “Alone in just your panties, playing strip pong, if I recall.” She pulls a face of mock innocence. “Totally normal scenario.”

You give her a playful shove and head for the register, trying to hide the flutter in your stomach. Despite the anger you still feel toward Chris, you can’t deny the memory of that kiss sends shivers down your spine.

Later that evening, you and Ava settle into a cozy booth at a small Italian restaurant—candles flicker on each table, and the scent of garlic bread drifts through the air. Over plates of pasta, you swap stories about the week’s ups and downs. Ava mentions Matt texting her random nudes to apologize for the headboard fiasco. You roll your eyes over Chris’s radio silence, trying to focus on the tangy sauce in front of you rather than the knot in your stomach.

Midway through dinner, Ava’s phone buzzes. She glances at the screen and her eyes go wide. “Oh my God,” she breathes, “we need to get home.”

You frown, twirling spaghetti around your fork. “Why? We just got our food.”

She slides her phone across the table, the screen still lit. “The boys just posted their first YouTube video.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Oh they finally posted?”

Ava nods, half exasperated, half impressed. “Apparently, yeah. It’s a get-to-know-us video or something. Matt told me they’ve been brainstorming for months. C’mon, I’m dying to see what these idiots came up with.”

You can’t help a curious smile, despite everything. “Fine,” you relent, signaling for the check.

You rush through the last bites of your meal, pay up, and head out into the crisp evening air, still chuckling about the inevitability of the Sturniolos launching a channel. Once back at your apartment, you barely toss your bags aside before Ava snags the TV remote, pulling up YouTube on the big screen. The bright platform logo loads, and your heart skitters with a mix of curiosity and residual frustration as she clicks into their brand-new channel.

Seconds later, the title card for their video appears, and you settle onto the couch with Ava, bracing yourselves to see what Chris and his brothers have done. Then she hits play, and the screen fades in—

The shot opens on three faces partially illuminated by the overhead light of Matt’s car, which is parked in an otherwise dark, mostly empty lot. The orange glow of a distant streetlamp outlines the windows, and the faint hum of traffic can be heard in the background. Matt is in the driver’s seat—though the car is off—looking a bit shy. Chris, baseball cap pulled low, lounges in the passenger seat, arms crossed casually. Nick, in the back seat, has leaned forward just enough to fit into frame.

Nick taps the record button on his phone. “Alright, we’re rolling,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “What’s up, everyone? Welcome to the Sturniolo Triplets channel. This is our first official ‘car video.’ Except, well—” he gestures at the darkness outside, “—we’re not exactly going anywhere tonight.”

Chris shifts in his seat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, apparently it’s late and someone”—he jabs a thumb at Matt—“doesn’t wanna drive around after dark. Says we should film while parked.”

Matt clears his throat, cheeks coloring under the faint overhead light. “I just think it’s safer to, uh, not be distracted when we’re doing our first video. We’ll do actual drive-around vlogs some other time.”

Nick nods with an exaggerated seriousness. “We gotta ease into this, folks. Anyway, I’m Nick, that’s Matt—who, by the way, got his license at sixteen, not yesterday—and over here is Chris.” He tilts the camera slightly, capturing each brother. “We’re nineteen, from Summerville, and, well… we decided to start this channel to share our everyday life.”

Chris runs a hand over his cap. “Sounds about right. Alright, Nick, what are we doing tonight?”

Nick holds up his phone. “I asked some friends for questions—stuff so people can get to know us. Figured we’d tackle them one by one.” He swipes a thumb across the screen. “First question: Where exactly are you guys from, and how old are you? I know we kinda said it, but let’s make it official.”

Matt, still looking a little shy, clears his throat. “We’re from Summerville—just outside Boston. We’re nineteen. All of us. Triplets, you know.”

Nick grins into the camera. “Yep, so that’s that. Next question: Favorite colors. Go.”

“Blue,” Matt says quietly, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt. “It’s just, I don’t know, I’ve always liked it.”

Nick bobs his head. “Me, I’m all about purple. Highly underrated color. Vibrant, mysterious—kinda like me.” He wiggles his brows sarcastically, and Chris gives him a withering stare.

Rolling his shoulders, Chris glances at the camera. “Orange,” he says, almost curtly. “No big reason. I just like it.”

Nick scrolls again. “Right, next question… ‘Are you single or taken?’”

Chris’s jaw tightens, and he says nothing, turning his gaze to the dark parking lot outside. Nick notices but decides not to push him yet. Instead, Nick answers for himself: “I’m single, because I haven’t found a dilf yet,” he says with a stage whisper, making Matt choke on laughter.

Matt fans himself in mock exasperation. “Nick, what the hell?” But he’s still grinning. “Alright, well, I’m not single. I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend, Ava.” He unlocks his phone and holds the lockscreen up for the camera: a candid shot of Ava mid-laugh. “She’s awesome. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

Nick leans forward from the back seat, peering at the lockscreen. “That’s cute, man. Look at you, all smitten and shit.”

Matt ducks his head. “Whatever,” he mumbles, a proud little smile tugging at his lips. “She’s great.”

Nick sees an opening. “So, big question: How’d you meet?”

Matt exhales, glancing momentarily at Chris, then back at the camera. “Alright. Junior year of high school, and for context, Ava’s best friend is named Y/N, and Chris here was basically, uh…” He coughs awkwardly. “...dating Y/N. So Y/N brought Ava around to hang out one weekend—”

Chris snorts loudly from the passenger seat. “Dating is a strong word,” he says, voice edged with sarcasm.

Matt shoots him an annoyed look. “Chris, shut the fuck up. Anyway, Y/N brought Ava over and—I don’t know, man, I just fell for her instantly. She was so funny and beautiful.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Get that simp shit outta here, dude,” he mutters under his breath, arms crossing tighter.

Nick cringes, aiming a quick “Sorry, folks” look at the camera. “Ignore him. He’s cranky. Next question, anyone?”

Matt tries to refocus. “Right, next question,” he echoes, rattling off the typical Q&A stuff: worst fears, favorite foods, random celebrity crushes. Chris chimes in now and then with dry remarks, but mostly keeps his gaze on the window, occasionally letting out a derisive chuckle or rolling his eyes at Nick and Matt’s banter.

Nick finally waves a dramatic farewell at the lens. “Alright, that’s enough for our first official ‘car video’” he says. “Maybe next time we’ll be on the move. If you liked this, like and subscribe or something. I don’t know—help us out.”

Matt musters a small smile, leaning forward to stop the recording. “See you guys next time.”

The screen fades to black.

The newly uploaded car video ends, replaced by YouTube’s recommended thumbnails. Ava shuts off the TV with a grimace, letting out a long sigh.

“Did you see Chris’s face?” she asks, raking a hand through her hair. “Every time Matt brought up anything about us, he was just… so passive-aggressive.”

You lean back against the couch cushions, exhaling. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s like he can’t stand even the mention of that time in high school yet he had no problem bringing it up when he was drunk and horny and all over me.” Your stomach twists at the memory of Chris’s snort when Matt called it dating. “I get it if he has regrets or bitterness, but did he have to say that stuff on camera and then post it online?”

Ava folds her arms, shaking her head. “Right? Like, ‘get that simp shit outta here’? Excuse me, let Matt have his moment! He was being sweet—he’s not a fucking simp for talking about how much he loves me. And calling it a ‘strong word’ when he was obviously your… I don’t know.” She frowns, searching for the right term.

You grimace. “We were more than friends, at the very least, I mean he was my first everything. But apparently, Chris is tryna rewrite the past now.”

Ava clicks her tongue. “That’s messed up. I mean, Nick tries so hard to keep the vibe light, and Matt—poor Matt—he’s just excited to share, you know? It’s their first video. They want it to be a success. Then Chris has to go all moody.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s always had a sarcastic streak, but this was fucking personal. He’s clearly extra upset about all this, especially after Dennys.”

Ava rests her chin on her hand, brow furrowed. “Yeah, well, he’s not doing himself any favors. Imagine being a new subscriber and seeing him sulking the whole time.”

You huff a short laugh. “At least the rest of the video was entertaining. Nick’s bit about hunting for a dilf was hilarious.”

Ava giggles, though it’s short-lived. “I just wish Chris could be more supportive. Matt’s shy, we know that, and this is big for him. They’re not even moving the car, so that should’ve been easy, right?”

You nod firmly. “Exactly. If Chris wants to brood, he can do it off-camera. Instead, he’s gotta make those little digs. It was so uncomfortable to watch.”

Ava sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Part of me wants to text Matt, make sure he’s okay. And then another part of me wants to call Chris out on his bullshit.”

Your lips quirk up wryly. “Could do both. But maybe let them have their moment. If they’re serious about this channel, they’ll have to figure out that dynamic sooner or later.”

She gives you a sidelong look. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s just… it’s so rude, right?”

“Completely,” you agree, folding your legs beneath you. 

Ava slumps deeper into the couch, crossing her arms as she stares at the now-blank TV screen. The frustration on her face hasn’t budged since the video ended. “Y’know,” she begins, voice taut, “it’s not just Chris being rude that bothers me—though that’s bad enough. It’s how Matt is practically too shy to get a word in, and whenever he tries, someone interrupts him.”

You nod, recalling how many times Matt started to speak, only for Chris or Nick to jump in. “He did look pretty nervous.”

Ava makes a tiny, annoyed sound in the back of her throat. “He’s always been anxious. He likes the idea of this YouTube stuff, but he’s a quiet person, you know? Then Chris and Nick just bulldoze over him. I mean, Nick does it in a playful way, but Chris?” She shakes her head, lip curling. “Every time Matt tried to share something, Chris had a snarky comment ready.”

You fiddle with a piece of lint on the couch. “I could see Matt clamming up whenever Chris made those little digs. He’d just… shut down.”

“Exactly,” Ava sighs. “And it’s their first video—shouldn’t they be encouraging each other? Especially Chris, since he’s so confident on camera. But he was practically rolling his eyes at everything Matt said.”

A wave of sympathy washes over you. “Matt was so excited to talk about how you two met,” you say gently, picturing the shy pride on Matt’s face whenever he brought up Ava. “Plus literally dogged on me in front of the whole internet. Name out and everything.” 

Ava purses her lips, irritation glowing in her eyes. “Right. He basically belittled anything that happened between you guys, which is rude in itself, but worse, it cut Matt off mid-thought. Like, let the boy speak!” She exhales hard. “Matt’s never been the type to assert himself, especially not on camera. He hates confrontation—always has.”

“Yeah,” you agree, remembering countless times Matt dodged drama in high school, well just dodged highschool in general. “It’s not easy for him to push back when Chris is in a mood.”

Ava’s expression darkens a bit. “He shouldn’t even have to push back. They’re brothers, for crying out loud—you’d think Chris would at least let Matt finish a sentence without being an asshole.”

You catch the protective tone in Ava’s voice and press your lips together. “Are you gonna say anything to Matt about it?”

She chews on her thumbnail, debating. “I want to. But I know he’ll just shrug it off, say it’s no big deal. He’s used to being outtalked by his brothers.”

Your chest pinches at the thought—Matt, sweet and quiet, swallowed by his siblings��� bigger personalities. “I mean, hopefully Nick sees it, too, and tries to help, right? He usually has a decent read on when Chris is out of line.”

Ava nods, though she still looks wound up. “Yeah, Nick tries. I just hate seeing Matt’s excitement overshadowed by Chris’s bullshit. One or two comments is one thing, but he barely let Matt breathe.”

“We can’t exactly force them to film differently, but maybe you could remind Matt he has a right to speak up. If he wants to start a channel, his voice should matter, you know?”

Ava inhales, shoulders lifting with tension. “You’re right. I guess I’ll talk to him, casually. Tell him I love hearing what he has to say.” She huffs a short laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “God, it’s ridiculous we even have to worry about this. It’s their first fucking video.”

You laugh. “Exactly! It might seem to Chris or Nick that we’re being dramatic but Matt is literally a baby. That's like my son.” 

Ava sets her phone aside, chewing on her lower lip as though turning a new idea over in her head. “Hey,” she begins, glancing at you. “What if we invite them over? Like, we can do a little ‘congrats on your first video’ celebration—just something small. I’ll talk to Matt then, and maybe even Chris.”

You hesitate, recalling Chris’s less-than-stellar attitude in the vlog. “I don’t know,” you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your shirt. “I mean, Chris was so… bitchy. Do I really want him in my living room acting like that?”

Ava sighs, shoulders slumping. “Believe me, I get it. But Nick and Matt deserve some positive reinforcement, right? They at least deserve to see that we’re proud of them, especially after all the nerves Matt had.”

You let out a small groan, torn between your lingering annoyance and the genuine desire to support Matt and Nick. “Fine,” you relent at last. “I do want to celebrate them. I just hope Chris doesn’t wreck the vibe.”

Ava’s face lights up with a determined grin. “Perfect. Let’s do this right—we’ll grab a little cake, some balloons, maybe a pizza. We can’t make it huge, but at least it’ll be fun.”

“Pizza?” you echo dryly. “We literally just ate.”

She shrugs, already hopping off the couch to grab her wallet. “Pizza’s timeless, Y/N. Let’s go. If we text Matt and say ‘come over in an hour,’ that should give us time.”

You find yourself mirroring her excitement, a smile creeping in despite your nerves. “Alright, let’s make it quick,” you say. “We’ll pick up decorations on the way.”

After a hurried drive through town, you and Ava dart into a party supply store, scouring the aisles for cheap balloons and a congratulatory banner. You settle on a simple metallic one that reads CONGRATS!—it’s not exactly “Congrats on Your First YouTube Video,” but it’ll do in a pinch. Ava practically bounces from shelf to shelf, gathering colorful balloons, while you pop over to the bakery section next door to grab a small sheet cake. The design is basic—white frosting with a swirl of confetti sprinkles—but you ask them to write CONGRATS across the top in purple, blue, and orange icing.

Once you’re juggling balloons, a cake box, and a bag of plastic plates, Ava steers you to the pizza place around the corner. She orders one large pepperoni and one plain cheese, plus a side of breadsticks—“Just in case,” she says, winking as you roll your eyes.

Standing by the soda fridge, you pull out your phone to text Matt:

Y/N: Hey, can you come over in about an hour with your brothers? Ava wants to celebrate your first vid! We have a little surprise. 

Matt: That sounds awesome. Let me check with them—brb. 

A few seconds later, his response flashes:

Matt: Nick’s in. Chris said whatever. I’ll bring him anyway. See you soon :)

You sigh, showing Ava the text. “Chris is, as usual, thrilled to come.”

She wrinkles her nose. “We’ll deal. Maybe with food and a little hype, he’ll chill out.”

“We can hope,” you reply, though your stomach is still knotted with apprehension.

Back at your apartment, you and Ava scramble to set up. Balloons get haphazardly taped to the walls, the small banner gets draped along the mantel, and you put the cake and pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter. The place smells faintly of fresh pizza sauce, and despite the rush, a cozy energy settles in.

Ava pulls down her crop top, taking one last look around. “Alright,” she exhales. “This is as good as it’s gonna get on short notice.”

You nod, glancing at your phone to check the time. “They should be here any minute.” Though a flutter of anxiety tugs in your chest—Chris’s mood looms over your thoughts—you still feel a warm spark of excitement for Nick and Matt.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway just before a sharp knock at the door. Ava rushes over to open it, and the triplets pile inside in their usual chaotic fashion. Nick is first, grinning wide as his eyes sweep the apartment. “Whoa! You guys went all out for us?” he exclaims, pointing at the balloons and banner.

Matt follows, carrying a bag of soda bottles. His shy smile brightens at the sight of the decorations. “This is awesome. You really didn’t have to—”

Chris steps in last, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. His usual sarcastic smirk is replaced by a genuine look of surprise as he takes it all in. “Yo,” he says, gaze landing on the cake. “Did you seriously get a cake for this? That’s kinda dope.”

Ava beams, motioning for them to come all the way in. “Of course, we did! Your first video deserves a celebration. Pizza’s on the counter, and there’s cake after.”

Nick spins in a circle, taking it all in with exaggerated awe. “This is better than any party we’ve ever thrown,” he jokes, making Chris laugh.

“Low bar,” Chris quips, grabbing a slice of pizza. “We usually just sit around eating stale chips.”

You exchange a glance with Ava, a silent note of relief passing between you. Chris doesn’t seem moody or withdrawn like he’s been the past times you’ve interacted. Instead, he’s leaning into his usual ADHD-driven energy, bouncing from the pizza to the balloons to the banner with lighthearted comments. It reminds you of the old him and your old dynamic before things got fucked up.

“This is fucking awesome” he says, pointing at the metallic CONGRATS! sign. “Where’d you even find that?”

“Party store,” you reply, biting back a laugh as he nods approvingly.

As the boys settle into the space, Ava nudges Matt lightly and tilts her head toward the hallway. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?” she asks.

Matt hesitates, glancing at his brothers. “Uh, sure.”

You catch Ava’s eye and follow the two of them to the hallway, leaving the others by the pizza. Nick and Chris don’t seem to notice at first, too busy bantering about which balloon color is better.

Once in the hallway, Ava crosses her arms, her voice soft but serious. “Matt, I wanted to check in about the car video. You seemed really anxious, and Chris kept interrupting you. It kinda bugged me, honestly.”

Matt rubs the back of his neck, cheeks reddening. “Oh yeah, I was a little nervous. But it’s fine. You know how I get in front of people. Chris was just being Chris.”

“It’s not fine,” you chime in, arms crossed. “He didn’t just interrupt you—he was being a moody brat who couldn’t wait his turn to speak.”

Unbeknownst to you, Chris has wandered closer to the hallway. He freezes mid-step, hearing your words. His relaxed demeanor vanishes as his face hardens. “Oh, a moody brat?” Chris’s tone was sharp, his expression dark as he stepped into view from around the corner. “That’s what you think of me?”

You froze, your stomach sinking as his gaze locked onto you. “Chris, I didn’t mean—”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “You meant exactly what you said. Go on, let’s hear it. What else am I? A selfish asshole? A shitty brother?”

“Chris, calm down,” Ava said, stepping in. “She wasn’t trying to attack you—”

“Oh, don’t start,” Chris interrupted, turning his anger on her. “Of course you’d jump in to defend her. You always have something to say, don’t you?”

Ava’s jaw dropped, her own frustration flaring. “Excuse me? Don’t take your shit out on me just because you can’t handle a little criticism!”

“Criticism?” Chris barked, his voice rising. “You mean this little intervention where you all gang up on me and call me names behind my back?”

“We weren’t ganging up on you!” Ava shot back. “We were talking about how Matt couldn’t get a word in because you wouldn’t let him.”

“That’s enough!” Matt’s voice cut through the argument like a whip, startling everyone into silence. His face was red, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. He stepped forward, his glare pinned on Chris.

“You don’t get to yell at her,” Matt said, his voice trembling with anger. “She’s only trying to help me. And she’s right—you were out of line in the car video. You didn’t let me talk, and you made me feel like an idiot for even trying.”

Chris’s mouth opened, but Matt held up a hand. “No. I’m not finished. You act like it’s some huge inconvenience to let me have a moment. But guess what, Chris? You’re not the only one who matters. This channel isn’t just about you.”

Nick appeared in the doorway, his pizza forgotten. “Whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, his eyes darting between everyone.

“Chris is losing his shit because we called him out for being rude,” Ava said, her voice tight.

“Rude?” Chris echoed, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. “You mean honest? Sorry if I’m not sugarcoating everything like you two.”

“You weren’t honest,” you snapped, your own frustration boiling over. “You were mean. You steamrolled Matt, you dogged on me, shitted on their relationship, and now you’re trying to justify it by yelling at us? Grow up, Chris.”

Chris turned his glare back on you, his hands twitching at his sides. “You’re one to talk about growing up. Maybe you should focus on your own shit before coming after me.”

“Enough!” Matt shouted again. He stepped between you and Chris, his face flushed with anger. “I’m so sick of this. Chris, stop taking your problems out on everyone else. Ava and Y/N didn’t deserve that, and you know it.”

The hallway fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Chris looked away, his jaw clenched, while Ava placed a hand on Matt’s arm.

Nick exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, can we please not burn the apartment down? I get it—there’s stuff to work through. But maybe we can do that without screaming at each other? The fuck?”

You crossed your arms, your heart still pounding. “Fine by me,” you muttered, though your gaze lingered on Chris, who still refused to meet your eyes.

“Let’s just… go eat cake,” Matt said, his voice weary. He turned and headed back toward the living room, Ava following close behind. Nick trailed after them, casting a concerned glance over his shoulder at you and Chris.

Chris lingered for a moment, his shoulders tense. Finally, he muttered, “Whatever,” and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway with a storm of emotions swirling in your chest.

The celebration had been meant to bring everyone together, but instead, it had cracked the fragile dynamic even further.

You took a deep breath, standing in the empty hallway as Chris’s footsteps receded. Your chest felt tight, the lingering tension from the argument swirling in your mind. For a brief moment, you debated staying behind, letting the others enjoy the cake and pretending none of this had happened. But you knew that wasn’t an option—not really.

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and headed back into the living room. The atmosphere had shifted; the room felt quieter, the earlier excitement dulled. Ava was cutting the cake, her movements a little more forceful than usual, while Matt stood next to her, hands shoved in his pockets. Nick was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Chris was leaning against the counter near the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was relaxed, but you could tell he was still stewing, the tension radiating off him like heat waves.

You took a seat on the armrest of the couch, trying to gauge the mood. Ava handed out plates of cake, her usual cheerful banter replaced by a quiet efficiency. When she placed a slice in front of Chris, he nodded mutely, not meeting her eyes.

“So,” Nick said, breaking the silence as he grabbed his own slice of cake. “Anyone wanna talk about literally anything else?”

The attempt at levity was met with a few weak chuckles. Matt shot Nick a grateful look before sitting down with Ava, who instinctively leaned into his side. You noticed the way Matt’s hand brushed lightly against her back—a subtle gesture of reassurance.

“Good cake,” Nick said through a mouthful. “Not gonna lie, this almost makes up for all the yelling.”

Chris snorted softly, finally looking up. “Almost.”

The conversation meandered awkwardly, everyone trying to fill the space without addressing the elephant in the room. You toyed with your fork, not really hungry, and avoided Chris’s gaze when it flicked your way. It was clear he was holding back something—whether it was more anger or an apology, you couldn’t tell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nick clapped his hands together. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this depressing-ass vibe. Let’s go do something.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Nick’s grin was mischievous. “Let’s go to the park and mess around. Smoke a little, swing on the swings—anything to get out of this apartment.”

Matt glanced at Ava, who nodded with a shrug. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

One by one, everyone agreed, the idea of fresh air and a change of scenery too tempting to pass up. After you all smoked in your apartment, you grabbed a hoodie on the way out, trailing behind the group as you made your way to the nearby park.

The park was quiet, the swings and play structures bathed in the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. The cool night air felt refreshing against your skin, and for the first time in hours, you felt your shoulders relax.

Nick immediately headed for the swings, pushing himself back and forth with exaggerated enthusiasm. “This is the shit,” he said, laughing as he swung higher. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

Matt and Ava claimed the bench near the swings, sitting close together as Ava leaned her head on his shoulder. Chris hung back for a moment, his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets as he watched Nick swing.

You took a seat on the swing next to Nick, letting the gentle rocking motion soothe your nerves. Chris eventually wandered over, leaning against the swing set post. His gaze flicked to you briefly before settling on the ground.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated but nodded, scooting over slightly as he took the swing beside you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the quiet punctuated only by the creak of the chains and Nick’s occasional whoops.

Finally, Chris broke the silence. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted.” 

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. His eyes, slightly red from earlier, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“I know I’ve been a dick,” he continued, his hand gripping the chain of the swing. “In the car, in the hallway… I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. Before you could respond, Chris reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through you.

“I just…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before returning to yours. “You gotta watch your mouth, though. Calling me a ‘moody brat’? Kinda bold of you.”

There was a flicker of a smirk on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face slightly so you couldn’t look away. “You’ve always had a way of pushing my buttons, you know that?”

The tension between you crackled, the space between your bodies feeling impossibly small despite the openness of the park. His thumb brushed against your jawline, a touch so deliberate it made your pulse race.

“Chris,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in slightly, his red-rimmed eyes locking onto yours. “I’m just saying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Next time you wanna call me out, maybe don’t do it when I’m already on edge.”

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or threatening—or something else entirely. All you knew was that the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his hand against your skin were making it hard to think straight.

In the distance, you heard Matt laughing as he jumped off his swing. Ava’s voice carried through the night as she scolded him, but the sounds felt distant, like they belonged to another world. Here, in this moment, it was just you and Chris.

The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as everyone made their way back to the apartment. By the time you stepped inside, the atmosphere had shifted to something lighter, almost playful. Ava unlocked the door, pushing it open with a grin.

“Okay, so,” she declared, kicking off her shoes, “Everyone’s staying over, and we’re drinking. No arguments.”

Nick immediately threw his arms in the air. “Hell yes! I knew I liked you for a reason, Ava.”

Chris snorted, leaning against the doorframe as he toed off his sneakers. “Like anyone’s gonna say no to free booze.”

Matt hesitated, glancing at Ava. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “We don’t wanna impose.”

Ava rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the strings of his hoodie, tugging him inside. “Matt, you’re my boyfriend. You couldn’t impose if you tried. Now get your ass on the couch.”

You laughed, heading for the kitchen to grab drinks. By the time you returned with a mix of beers, seltzers, and a bottle of vodka, Nick had already connected to the Bluetooth speaker, blasting an absurd mix of nostalgic throwbacks and hits.

Ava clapped her hands together, her grin devilish. “Alright, people. We’re drinking, and I don’t want anyone pussying out.”

“Define ‘wimping out,’” Chris teased, cracking open a beer. “Because I’m not doing vodka shots if that’s where this is headed.” 

“Lightweight,” Nick muttered, earning a glare from Chris.

The night spiraled quickly into a mess of drinking games, loud music, and questionable dares. Nick tried balancing a spoon on his nose (and failed miserably), Matt spent ten minutes figuring out how to shuffle cards for a drinking game, and Ava made everyone take a collective shot “just cause.”

When someone suggested playing Intimacy Dice, a game Ava had pulled from the back of her closet, chaos was inevitable. Two dice: one with body parts, the other with actions. The rules were simple—roll and do whatever the dice dictated.

“This is going to be a train wreck,” Nick declared, grinning as he picked up the dice.

“Exactly the point,” Ava shot back, handing him the dice first.

Nick rolled, and the dice tumbled to a stop: lick and toes.

The room exploded with laughter as Ava’s name was called.

“Oh, come on!” she groaned. “Why do I have to lick Nick’s gross-ass toes?”

“Rules are rules,” Chris said smugly, leaning back with his beer like he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

Ava rolled her eyes dramatically, kneeling down as Nick gleefully stuck his socked foot in her direction. “Fine,” she huffed, pulling off the sock and gagging for added effect. “But I’m never forgiving you for this.”

“Take one for the team!” you cheered, your sides aching from laughing so hard.

With exaggerated reluctance, Ava leaned in and barely grazed the tip of Nick’s big toe with her tongue before shooting upright. “Done!” she declared, grabbing her drink and chugging half of it. “That was disgusting.”

Nick was practically rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “You’re a hero, Ava. A true inspiration.”

Your turn came next. You rolled the dice, holding your breath as they clattered across the floor. When they finally stopped, the room went silent.

Kiss and lips.

“Y/N and Matt!” Ava announced gleefully, pointing at the two of you.

Matt’s face turned beet red as he glanced at Ava nervously. “Uh…”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. Your eyes darted to Ava, who was clearly trying not to burst out laughing, then to Chris. His expression was unreadable, though the way he sipped his beer a little harder than usual wasn’t lost on you.

“It’s just a game,” Ava said, waving her hand. “Go on! It’s not like I’m gonna get mad.”

Matt hesitated for another second before finally leaning forward, his cheeks blazing. “Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s just… get it over with.”

The kiss was quick—a soft brush of lips that lasted barely a second—but it sent a ripple of awkward laughter through the group.

“See?” Ava said, grinning. “No big deal!”

“Yeah, no big deal,” Chris echoed, his tone sharper than necessary. You glanced at him again, noticing the tightness in his jaw and the way his knuckles whitened around his beer.

The game continued, but the tension lingering between you and Chris was impossible to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, there was an edge to his gaze, something simmering beneath the surface that he didn’t—or wouldn’t—acknowledge.

By the time Nick rolled again and burst out laughing at another absurd combination, the alcohol was hitting hard, and the night had officially veered into chaos.

The dice tumbled across the floor again, the room falling silent as everyone leaned in to see what Ava’s roll would dictate. When the dice stopped, the words rub and over clothes faced up, and Nick immediately burst into laughter.

“Oh my God,” he howled, pointing at Matt. “It’s you!”

Matt’s face turned beet red as all eyes shifted to him. Ava, however, wasn’t fazed at all. Instead, she grinned, a mischievous sparkle lighting up her eyes as she turned to her boyfriend.

“Well, well,” she teased, biting her lip to stifle a giggle. “Looks like it’s my lucky night.”

Matt laughed, burying his face in his hands. “Ava, we don’t have to—”

“Oh, come on,” she interrupted, moving to sit next to him. “We’re literally dating. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

Chris choked on his drink, Nick howled with laughter, and you found yourself half-hiding behind a throw pillow, your own face burning from excitement. 

“You’re really gonna do this?” Chris asked, his voice tinged with both disbelief and amusement.

“Absolutely,” Ava replied without hesitation, already positioning herself to straddle Matt’s lap. “Rules are rules, right?”

Matt peeked up at her, his face still flushed. “You’re way too excited about this.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said with a wink, leaning in closer. “Of course I’m excited.”

The rest of you erupted into laughter as Ava started playfully rubbing her hands over Matt’s chest and thighs, clearly enjoying both his embarrassment and the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Don’t make it weird, Matt,” Nick called out, nearly in tears from laughing so hard. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matt muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

Ava leaned closer, her voice dropping just enough for only Matt to hear. “Relax, babe,” she teased, her hands brushing over his jeans in a way that made his whole body tense. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Matt let out a nervous laugh, and the rest of you doubled over, the absurdity of the moment breaking whatever tension lingered from earlier. Even Chris was smirking now, shaking his head as he took another sip of his beer. 

Ava grinned wickedly as she climbed onto Matt’s lap, completely unbothered by the attention from the rest of you. Her confidence and excitement were palpable, and it only made Matt blush harder, his hands nervously resting on her thighs as she settled in.

“Okay,” she said with a playful smirk, running her hands over his shoulders first. “Let’s see how far we can push this without you making a mess of yourself.”

Matt groaned, leaning his head back against the couch, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

“That’s the point,” she teased, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Rules are rules, babe.”

The room was filled with laughter, Nick practically doubled over on the floor as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he gasped, clutching his stomach.

Even Chris was leaning forward in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Matt, kid, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Chris,” Matt muttered, his voice strained, “shut up.”

Ava’s hands moved lower, pressing lightly against Matt’s stomach before slipping down to the front of his jeans. She rubbed him gently over the fabric, her grin growing as she felt him stiffen beneath her touch. “Oh,” she cooed, her tone both teasing and affectionate. “Someone’s enjoying this.”

Matt groaned again, his hands gripping her hips as he tried to shift away, but Ava didn’t let up. Her movements stayed playful, light enough to make him squirm but not enough to push things too far.

“Ava,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low, “seriously, you’re going to kill me.”

“Not yet,” she teased, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “But I’m having way too much fun watching you suffer.”

The rest of you were practically crying with laughter, the absurdity of the moment too much to handle. Nick fell over onto the floor, gasping for air between fits of giggles, while Chris shook his head, his smirk widening.

“This is peak entertainment,” Chris said, his voice laced with amusement. “Matt, you’re a champ for putting up with this.”

Matt shot him a glare but couldn’t say much else as Ava’s hands continued to move, her touch just firm enough to keep him completely flustered. His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tense.

“Okay, okay,” Ava finally said, pulling her hands back and laughing as she sat up straighter. “I think that’s enough for now. Don’t wanna break you.”

Matt let out a long, shaky breath, his face still bright red as he muttered, “You already did.”

The room exploded with laughter again, Nick literally rolling on the floor as he clapped his hands. “Ava, you’re insane,” he declared, wiping his face.

Ava leaned in to kiss Matt’s forehead, her expression softening just a bit. “You did great, babe,” she teased, patting his chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

Matt groaned, hiding his face in her shoulder as the rest of you continued to laugh and tease. Even though he was mortified, the warmth in his eyes as he looked at Ava made it clear he wasn’t mad—just very, very embarrassed.

The room was still buzzing with laughter from Ava and Matt’s ridiculous display when Nick grabbed the dice, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. He held them up dramatically, shaking them for effect before letting them clatter onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward, waiting for the result.

Makeout and partner’s choice.

The room went silent for half a second before Nick, ever the showman, jumped up and pointed at you. “Y/N! You’re my partner of choice,” he announced, waggling his eyebrows.

Your eyes widened as laughter erupted around you. “Say less, mama. C‘mere.”

“HAAAAAA” Ava laughed, clearly enjoying your mortification as much as everyone else had enjoyed hers. Matt, still recovering from Ava’s teasing, managed a weak chuckle.

Nick strolled over to you, extending a hand like a gentleman. “Milady,” he said dramatically, “I promise to be gentle.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help laughing as you let him pull you up from the couch. “Two minutes? That’s insane.”

Chris, who had been leaning back with his beer, suddenly straightened in his seat. His jaw tightened as his gaze flicked between you and Nick. “You better keep it PG,” he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch.

Nick ignored him, his grin unwavering. “Alright, someone set a timer!” he called out, glancing at Ava, who gleefully grabbed her phone.

“Timer’s ready,” Ava announced, holding it up like a referee at a sporting event. “And… go!”

Nick didn’t waste any time, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. You had expected it to be awkward and funny—just another silly moment in the ridiculous night—but Nick, to his credit, was surprisingly good at this. His hands rested lightly on your waist, and his kiss was playful, soft, and just a little teasing.

The room erupted with cheers and wolf whistles. “Get it, Nick!” Ava shouted, nearly falling off the couch as she laughed.

Matt shook his head, laughing along. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Meanwhile, Chris’s expression darkened. His beer sat untouched in his hand as his eyes locked on the two of you, a muscle in his jaw ticking. You caught his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and for a split second, you could swear you saw something more than annoyance—something sharper, hotter.

Nick, oblivious to the rising tension, deepened the kiss slightly, his thumb brushing your side as he leaned in closer. You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, the ridiculousness of the situation making it impossible to take seriously.

“Thirty seconds left!” Ava announced, giggling uncontrollably.

Chris muttered something under his breath, his knuckles tightening around his beer bottle. He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze never leaving you and Nick. The air between you and Chris felt charged, like an undercurrent of something unspoken was threatening to surface.

When Ava finally shouted, “Time’s up!” Nick pulled back with a triumphant grin, his lips still slightly red. “Well,” he said, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie, “that was magical. You’re welcome, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed his chest lightly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

The room was alive with laughter and jokes, but you couldn’t ignore the way Chris’s gaze lingered on you. His expression was a mix of frustration and something else—something darker that sent a shiver down your spine.

Nick plopped back onto the couch, throwing an arm over the back as if nothing had happened. Chris, however, stood abruptly, muttering something about getting another drink as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Ava leaned toward you, whispering, “Did you see Chris’s face? He looked like he was about to explode.”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where Chris was pointedly not looking at anyone, and felt a pang of unease mixed with something you couldn’t quite name. 

Chris strolled back into the room, his face unreadable as he grabbed a beer from the counter and leaned casually against the couch. The energy in the room had shifted slightly since Nick’s turn, and you could feel Chris’s gaze flick toward you every now and then, sharp and assessing.

���Alright,” Nick said, handing Chris the dice with an exaggerated flourish. “Your turn, bro. Don’t wimp out on us.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Like I’d ever wimp out,” he said, shaking the dice with a deliberate slowness that made everyone groan.

“Just roll already!” Ava laughed, still curled up next to Matt.

Chris finally tossed the dice onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward to see the result, and the room went dead silent as the words hickeys and boobs faced up.

“Holy shit,” Nick breathed, his face lighting up with mischievous glee. “This is about to get interesting.”

Matt immediately turned to Ava. “Not happening,” he said firmly, his protective instincts kicking in before anyone could even suggest her name.

Ava raised her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m off-limits.”

Chris’s eyes flicked toward you, and you froze as the realization hit. He couldn’t pick Ava, which left… you.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low as his gaze locked onto yours, “looks like you’re up, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and the room collectively erupted into laughter and cheers. “Are we deadass right now.” you protested, your face heating up.

“Rules are rules,” Nick said, barely holding back his laughter.

Chris set his beer down, standing up and extending a hand toward you. “C’mere,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Chris settled back onto the couch, motioning for you to come closer. The room felt electric, charged with a mix of laughter and tension as you hesitated for a moment. Then, with every eye on you, you slowly made your way toward him, your heartbeat pounding louder with each step.

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap with a confidence that made your stomach flip. His hands rested on your waist, steadying you as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask.

“Hey,” Ava said, waving her hand like a referee. “No funny business, Chris.”

Chris smirked, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to mischief. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve got this under control.”

His hands slid up your sides, his movements slow and deliberate as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your shirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, meant only for you.

You swallowed hard, nodding, your cheeks burning. The room had fallen eerily quiet, everyone watching with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

Chris lifted your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the floor. Then, with a quick, practiced motion, he unhooked your bra and let it fall forward, though he made sure to keep your back to the rest of the room. From their vantage point, all anyone could see was your bare shoulders and the curve of your spine.

He glanced around the room briefly, addressing the group. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone light but carrying a hint of warning, “this is for my eyes only.” 

“You good?” Chris murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands settled back on your hips.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His fingers trailed lightly over your skin, sending a shiver through you before he leaned forward, his lips pressing against the curve of your shoulder. He started slow, his mouth warm and deliberate as he worked his way toward the base of your neck. Each kiss was soft but insistent, and you felt your pulse quicken as his teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp.

“Jesus,” Nick muttered from somewhere behind you, breaking the silence. “This is… wow.”

“Yeah I’m horny as fuck” Ava sighed, though her tone was more amused than anything.

Chris ignored them, his focus entirely on you. His lips moved with precision, leaving a trail of red marks along your skin, his breath warm against you. His hands tightened slightly on your hips, holding you steady as he pressed another kiss just above your collarbone, lingering longer this time.

Chris’s hands stayed firmly on your waist, his thumbs brushing the curve of your hips as he leaned in again, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re so tense,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “We’ve got time.”

Before you could respond, his lips found your collarbone again, trailing down with unhurried precision. He pressed another kiss just above the swell of your chest, his mouth lingering longer this time. The warmth of his breath against your skin made your pulse race, and you gripped his jeans tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“Chris,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He hummed softly, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “Hmm? Something you wanna say?”

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot just below your collarbone, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through you. He pulled back slightly, his red-rimmed eyes meeting yours with a mix of mischief and intensity.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone condescending.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. Chris tilted his head, studying you for a moment before leaning back in. This time, his kisses were slower, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your tits. He left a trail of faint red marks, each one deliberate and placed with care around your nipples, like he was painting a picture only the two of you could see.

The room around you felt like it had disappeared entirely. You were vaguely aware of the occasional murmur or laugh from your friends, but their voices were distant, muted by the pounding of your heart and the heat of Chris’s touch.

His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs as he tilted his head to press another kiss just above your sternum. He paused, his tongue flicking lightly over the mark he’d just made, soothing the sting before moving to a new spot.

“You’re letting me take my time,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I didn’t expect that.”

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky. “What do you mean?”

Chris chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your chest. “You’ve always been a little stubborn. I figured you’d push me away by now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his lips found your nipple, and all coherent thoughts evaporated. His teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp, and his hands tightened on your waist, holding you steady as your body instinctively grinded down on him.

The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating, as his kisses became more purposeful, more insistent. He moved to your other nipple, leaving a series of marks along your breast that you knew would linger long after the night was over.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Chris leaned back slightly, his hands moving back to your waist. “All done,” he said softly, though his eyes lingered on your purple and red chest for a moment longer.

“Damn,” Nick said, shaking his head with a grin and leaning over to catch a glimpse. “Chris, you didn’t have to make it an art form.”

“Shut up,” Chris muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. He picked up his beer again, taking a slow sip as he leaned back into the couch. “Don’t look at that,”

Ava gave you a knowing look, her grin playful. “You good, Y/N? You look a little… flustered.”

You avoided Chris’s gaze, your cheeks burning as you focused on adjusting your shirt. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was still racing.

Chris leaned closer to grab his beer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re fine, huh?” His eyes glinted with that same mix of mischief and heat. “Good to know.”

Chris smirked as you fumbled to put your shirt and bra back on, his eyes lingering just a little too long as you adjusted the fabric over your chest. Before you could fully settle back onto the couch, he caught your waist with one hand and turned you around so you were sitting sideways on his lap. The movement was seamless, and natural, as though he had done this a hundred times before with you. Which wasn’t nesicarily a lie. 

“Whoa,” you mumbled, caught off guard.

He chuckled softly, his other arm coming around your waist, resting there with a protective ease. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and calm. “You look more comfortable here.”

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his arm across your waist grounding you. But what made your breath hitch was the distinct pressure beneath you, the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh and lower back. Your cheeks burned as you tried not to squirm, hyperaware of every shift in your position.

Chris’s grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in a way that sent a shiver through you. He didn’t say anything about your reaction, but the faint smirk on his lips suggested he knew exactly what you were feeling.

“You good?” he asked, knowing damn well.

You nodded quickly, your hands nervously clutching your knees. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

The game continued, though your focus was shot. Every time someone laughed or shouted, it felt like background noise compared to the steady rise and fall of Chris’s chest against your back. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, his fingers occasionally flexing, sending small jolts of heat through you.

Nick rolled another absurd combination and ended up having to kiss Avas neck, which sent everyone into fits of laughter. Ava, still giggling, leaned into Matt, her head resting on his shoulder as the group wound down.

Eventually, the game fizzled out, everyone too tired or too drunk to keep it going. Nick sprawled out on the floor, groaning. “Alright, I call dibs on sleeping in Y/N’s bed,” he announced, throwing an arm over his face dramatically.

You laugh but agree nonetheless. 

“I don’t wanna deal with Chris kicking me all night. And the couch sucks.”

Chris’s arm tensed around your waist for a brief second before he let out a low laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “Enjoy.”

Ava stretched, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. “Matt and I are obviously taking my room,” she said, standing and pulling Matt to his feet.

Chris shifted beneath you, his hand dropping from your waist as he gently nudged you to stand. “Guess that leaves me with the couch,” he said casually, though there was an edge to his voice.

You glanced at him as you stood, catching the flicker of something in his expression—annoyance? Frustration? It disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual smirk.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment too long.

“Night,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating again as you turned away, trying not to think about the warmth of his hands or the way your body had reacted to being so close to him.

Nick grabbed your arm, tugging you toward your room with a grin. “Come on, bestie,” he teased. “Let’s crash before Chris decides to steal your bed or hop in with you and kick me out.”

You glanced back briefly, catching Chris settling onto the couch, one arm draped over the back as he watched you leave. His smirk was faint but there, and it stayed with you as you closed the door behind you, trying not to let your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory.

MASTERLIST

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @sturnsvelocity @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick

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You’re finally free to leave LA. However, Ateez’s final concert doesn’t go exactly as planned, although your reunion with Yunho is exactly as sweet and emotional as you expected. This time, though, it’s your turn to share some interesting information.

warnings: panic attack, general anxiety talk, pda, I just through in random people, proposals, a gift for yunho, oral sex, unprotected sex, soft sex, happy endings

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an: think of this as kind of a mid season finale. this was originally where the series ended, but I realized it needed more, so more is coming.

From the wrap party you had gone straight to the airport. The hours between check in and boarding inched by so slowly you felt like you were losing your mind. It didn’t help that you’d had to take a trip to the bathroom due to nausea. The stress of the long flight you were about to take, the general worrying you always did when Yunho was about to go on stage, plus your anxiety all surrounding the small present you had brought for him was eating you up inside.

By the time you boarded the plane and settled into your little first class cubicle, you had worn yourself out. As soon as you were in the air, you reclined your seat and passed out. 

When you finally woke, about half of the nearly 14 hour flight had passed. You found you were starving. Reaching for the small menu, you pondered the choices, opting for a fruit plate and some orange juice. Anything heavier would simply make you nauseous again.

Once the flight attendant had delivered your meager breakfast, you tucked in, enjoying the fruit while you scrolled through the movie options on the TV in front of you. 

Korean Air had a large selection of American and Korean movies with a moderate selection of other foreign films. You found yourself wincing and quickly moving past every one of your films until ‘Spiderwoman’ appeared on screen. You were only 19 when you had filmed it, 20 when it released, and it was the only one of your movies you could actually stand watching. You had been so incredibly proud of your work that you had gotten a spiderweb tattooed on your shoulder after filming ended. It had earned you the title of ‘Academy Award Nominated actress, Y/n L/n’. You hadn’t won, losing to a much older and experienced actress, but it had put you on the map.

It was also the film you had been in Seoul promoting when you had met Yunho. 

You shook yourself and moved past it. You continued scrolling until you stumbled upon Yunho’s first film. ‘In the Worst Way’, it was called. It was an action thriller that had done wonders for his reputation as an actor. It had even gotten him a Daesang. As much as you loved the film, you knew it would make you miss him so you carried on with your search. When nothing piqued your interest, you resigned yourself to watching ‘Spiderwoman’ while you ate your fruit.

It had been nearly a year and a half since you had watched it. The last time being when Yunho’s members had forced you to during a movie night you had been present for. You could have said no, but their pleading eyes and your pride for this one project had caused you to give in easily. 

You weren’t necessarily ashamed of your other movies. Well, aside from the reboot of the Alicia Silverstone movie, ‘The Crush’. Your version was an 18 year old college student falling in love with a much older professor and going crazy, instead of a 14 year like in her version, but it was still insanely fucked up and had been your third movie overall and your very first as an adult. It still made you cringe. It was a wonder Marvel had cast you in ‘Spiderwoman’ after that fiasco.

Trying to forget about your past bad career decisions, you focused on the movie. You had always been overly critical of yourself, but even you had to admit you did a damn good job on this film. Hopefully, the sequel you had just filmed was just as good. You had tried your best to fully immerse yourself as best you could, but most people could tell you didn’t have the same energy as you did 4 years ago. 

The movie eventually ended and the stewardess came by to take your empty glass and plate before returning with the green tea you had requested. Resigning yourself to listening to the music blasting through your headphones and staring out the window, looking at passing clouds, you sipped on the hot tea.

A little over a month ago, you had finally quit smoking. It had been hard but you’d persevered, knowing it was best for you and those around you. You had replaced that habit with lots and lots of tea. And a few nicotine patches for the first two weeks before you’d stopped using them. Yunho had been so incredibly proud when you told him and Joanne had brought home a cake on the one month anniversary of you throwing your vape and back up pack of cigarettes away. 

As you finished your tea, you finally checked your phone. It was on airplane mode and you hadn’t bothered to pay for wifi, preferring to disconnect for a while. Between your movie and cloud watching, you’d managed to eat up 4 more hours of the flight. In just under 3 hours, you’d be landing in Incheon at noon. An hour after that you’d likely be through border security and an hour after that you’d be in your apartment. 

Ateez’s concert started at 6 pm and would probably go until around 10. Excitement was already buzzing under your skin, along with nerves. You needed to calm down, it was still hours until you could see Yunho again.

Deciding to distract yourself, you asked for another cup of tea and flipped through the games on your phone.

You had been wrong. It took nearly 2 hours for the car service to get you to your apartment due to traffic. By the time you were dragging your suitcases through the door, it was almost 3. You had to arrive at Olympic Stadium at 5 to be escorted to the VIP box the boys had reserved for you and a few of their partners. Thankfully, Miyeon was going to be there

Yeosang’s girlfriend, Kim Doyeon, another idol, and San and Wooyoung's boyfriend, Lee Hosung, a non celebrity, were also going to be there. Jongho had been dating a Japanese idol he refused to tell the name of, but she was overseas promoting and couldn’t attend. That had given you all clues, but still, no one had been able to figure it out. Seonghwa had been flirting off and on with Yeri of Red Velvet for months, but they had never made anything official and you didn’t know if she was going to be there.

Pushing your thoughts aside, you focused on picking an outfit from what you had brought in your suitcases and what was still in the closet of your apartment. You wanted to look cute, but you definitely did not want to stand out. 

Sorting out what to wear proved to be very difficult, but by 4, you had settled on loose fitting jeans and an old Ateez shirt you had stolen from Yunho a while ago. You had just enough time to throw on some makeup, fix your hair, and gather up all the essentials to go in your purse. You were nearly out the door when you remembered to grab the newest version of their lightstick that the boys had gifted you when it was released. You even had some spare batteries hidden in a drawer. 

Quickly, you grabbed a flannel jacket and a black face mask before heading down the fancy hallway of the complex and into its equally nice elevator. Upon stepping out of the elevator, a man in a black suit you recognized as one of Ateez’s staff members waited for you in the lobby. Your steps rang out loudly as you hurried to follow him into the SUV that was waiting for you.

When he opened the door, you were happy to see Miyeon waiting for you. She had always looked good, but with her new blond hair, knee high socks, purple dress, and denim jacket she looked amazing. Even her oversized purse was a complimentary shade of maroon.

As soon as you had settled into the car, she pulled you into a hug.

“Y/n! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Miyeon. It’s been too long,” she pulled away from you as the car started to pull away from your building. As her hands settled in her lap, you couldn’t help but notice the ring on her left hand. “Oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

She slyly held her hand up so you could gawk at the ring you had yet to see in person. It was small and gold, but had a diamond in the center with a topaz and an emerald on opposite sides to represent their birth months. “I know right! It’s everything I wanted!”

The rest of the ride passed quickly as the two of you gushed about her upcoming wedding. It was only when the driver approached the stadium and was granted entry by the security guard at the back entrance that she asked about you and Yunho.

“So, when are you getting your very own ring?” She wiggled her fingers at you.

“Hopefully soon,” you were blushing slightly.

“Oh? So you’ve talked about it?” You had. Not too much more beyond that night when he had confessed to wanting children with you, as both of you had decided that was a conversation best had in person.

“We have a bit. And I hope we get married soon,” You bit your lip as the car rolled to a stop. “I’m-”

Before you could finish, your door was opened by another staff member. Miyeon gave you a look that said ‘later’ and you nodded before exiting.

The stadium was huge from the outside and you couldn’t believe Ateez had managed to sell out almost every seat in the venue. Olympic Stadium was massive from the outside, but the view quickly vanished as you and Miyeon were ushered inside to avoid any pictures being taken. The staff led you through a maze of hallways before opening the side door that led to the hallway containing doors to the VIP boxes. The two of you were led to one labeled ‘8’ and told that another staff member would come collect you before the last song so you could all meet the members backstage once the concert ended.

You thanked them before they were off, back down the hallway. Miyeon opened the door and you followed her through. There was one staff member wearing all black behind the bar on the right side of the room. On the left was a table full of appetizers. In front of you was a balcony that showed your box was directly facing center stage. There were dividers on the sides to block the neighboring boxes from looking in and several plush looking chairs and benches placed on the balcony. Inside, there were two tall cocktail tables with no stools.

Doyeon, Hosung, and, surprisingly, Yeri, were all crowded around one. Each of them had a beer in front of them and they were laughing.

Hosung’s eyes lit up when he saw you and Miyeon. His hair was silver and it matched the multitude of rings and necklaces he wore. He looked like he had stolen clothing items out of San’s closet, which was very likely. His black button down was half done up and tucked into black jeans. He had a dark purple velvet jacket thrown over the top. He was a year older than you and the two of you had become fast friends when San introduced him to everyone 6 months ago.

“Y/n!” You let him pull you into a hug as he immediately started chatting about how much he missed you and much he has to tell you.

Doyeon was dressed in a flowy blouse with black jeans and she simply gave you a nod and a smile. She had been friendly since she and Yeosang started dating a year and a few months ago, but she was relatively reserved and usually pretty quiet.

Yeri was greeting Miyeon, as they had worked together in the past. She had on an Ateez shirt not unlike your own, but hers was tucked into a flowy white skirt. 

“Hello,” she bowed slightly to you when she and Miyeon had caught up a bit.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Yunho’s girlfriend, Y/n,” you returned the bow and she smiled brightly. 

“Very nice to meet you. I’m Seonghwa’s something,” she waved her hand dismissively and everyone laughed. 

“Y/n! Have a beer,” Hosung dragged you to the bar. 

“Oh no I shouldn’t,” you thought quickly. “I just got off a plane, if I have a drink I’ll fall asleep.”

Hosung whined for a minute before he gave in and you asked the bartender for ginger ale.

With your drink in hand, you made your way back to the table as the conversation quickly turned to careers. You were peppered with questions about your movies, but each and every time you succeeded in redirecting the conversation back to one of the other four. 

Before you knew it, the arena started to fill up as fans filed in 45 minutes before the show started. The five of you disregarded the filling arena and continued to snack and chat until the lights started to dim. It was then that you took your seats, being settled between Hosung and Miyeon, preparing for the show to start.

It was about halfway through the concert when a fan seated below your box turned to scan the arena. It was during a moment when the venue was lit up as the boys performed ‘Aurora’ and you knew from the look on the girl's face as you made eye contact that she recognized you. Before she could raise her phone to take a picture, you turned your head and left your seat to go pace safely under the overhang where you weren’t visible.

Doyeon and Yeri had kept their masks on, but you had removed yours to laugh and sing with Miyeon and Hosung. It was stupid, but you had enjoyed the normalcy of it all until it bit you in the ass.

Miyeon had followed you when you got up and you knew everyone’s eyes were on you, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you walked back and forth. You didn’t really know why you were panicking so much. Yes the girl had seen you, but you had mentioned in interviews before that you were a fan of Ateez. It wasn’t that odd that you would be at their final concert. Your reasoning couldn’t stop your panic from building, though. 

Miyeon grabbed your hands, steadying them. You saw Yeri and Doyeon give you understanding but sympathetic looks as they stopped Hosung from approaching you after Miyeon, pulling him to sit between them and encouraging him to focus on the show. 

“Y/n. What happened?” Miyeon pulled you farther from the balcony. She had seen you panic before. She was 7 years older than you and could easily calm you down quickly. 

“I- a- a fan saw me,” you forced out even though your throat felt like it was closing up. “She recognized me.”

“Deep breaths,” one of her hands left yours to settle on her chest and demonstrate breathing for you to follow. It was hard with the loud music mimicking the pounding of your heart. 

“Air,” you croaked out. 

She nodded, keeping a tight hand as she pulled you through the door into the hallway. There were two bodyguards outside the door.

“Minyoung, we need to go outside,” the bodyguard on the left nodded and gestured for you to follow him. He led you quietly through the hallway in the opposite direction you had entered from before leading you out onto a secluded terrace. It was a bit chilly outside as the sun had gone down about an hour ago but it felt good. Minyoung stayed by the door, looking away from you respectfully, as Miyeon led you farther away from him to lean you against a wall.

You slid down to take a seat while Miyeon crouched next to you.

“Y/n,” her voice was gentle. “You’re safe. There’s no way that one girl saw you and figured out your whole life story from one second of eye contact.”

You knew that. You really did, but your heart wouldn't stop racing. You took deep breaths of the cool air and willed yourself to calm down, it was working, but your panic was leaving a pounding headache behind.

“Here,” Miyeon was holding out two small pills to you. Your confusion must have been written all over your face because she shook a small bottle of Tylenol at you. “I used to get panic attacks when I was your age. I always had headaches afterwards.”

You gratefully accepted the pills and the water bottle she produced from her bag. After swallowing them, you closed your eyes, leaning back against the cement walls of the stadium. 

“I’m a terrible girlfriend,” you said after a long moment of silence. “I can’t go anywhere without freaking out and being paranoid. I can’t even watch him perform.”

“That’s not true. You and I have gone out in public plenty of times and you’ve been perfectly fine. I’ve seen you relaxed and happy at his shows before, too,” she sat on the ground next to you, taking your hand once again. “You’ve just got your issues. We all have them and we all overcome them in one way or another.”

“Becoming famous as a teenager fucked me up,” your eyes opened and you looked at the smaller woman beside you.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “It probably did. But you’re getting better. Eight months ago, when you came back to Seoul, you couldn’t even walk outside but you overcame that. Remember? Within a month you were going to coffee shops and parks and taking walks with me.”

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and the memories brought a smile to your face.

“You’re probably never going to fully get rid of the anxiety, but you’re doing great, you really are. And you have all of us and your friends in the states. We all want you to be happy,” Miyeon leaned her head on your shoulder and you laid yours on hers. “Yunho wants you to be happy. And… Can I be honest?”

“Of course,” her question made you nervous.

“I think you should stop acting. At least for a few years. And I think Yunho agrees with me, too,” she lifted her head to look you in the eyes. “You do so well when you stop and come here to spend time with us, but as soon as you go back to working, you just reset. Its heartbreaking. I know I’m not that old, but you feel almost like a daughter to me and it hurts me to see you struggling.”

You nodded, fighting off tears. “You’re right. I- before I came back I told my agent I didn’t want to hear anything about another project for at least a year.”

She was nodding vigorously. “Good. Good.”

With that, you fell into silence, staring across the balcony at the faint lights of the city beyond the massive complex of the venue. You two sat like that before you nodded, mostly to yourself. “I’m ready. Let’s go back and watch our men one last time.”

When you got back, the song had changed to one of their new b-sides. Hosung gave you a worried look but you gave him a smile, sitting next to Yeri after replacing your mask. The five of you finished the show, cheering and screaming and singing along. 

For their last costume change, they were decked out in black suits with orange accents that were personalized to each member. You felt your heart stop as Yunho’s top was revealed to be backless during the choreography, showing off your matching tattoo. Screams and cheers echoed from the fans as Yunho gave a satisfied smirk to the crowd.

It was nearly 10 pm when the door opened and a staff member announced it was time to go. All of you quickly gathered your things. 

Anticipation was gathering under your skin, knowing you were minutes away from seeing Yunho again. Miyeon’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you from running ahead of the staff member guiding you to the green room.

Once you had arrived, you refused to sit, instead choosing to pace and keep your gaze locked on the monitors that had a live feed of the final performance after you discarded your flannel and purse beside Miyeon on the couch. Doyeon and Yeri were entertaining Hosung, who was almost as excited as you were, despite the fact that he, San, and Wooyoung had moved into a new apartment a week ago and they saw each other everyday.

When the members froze in their final ending positions and the platform they were on began to descend, you shifted your focus to the door. You waited with bated breath for what felt like ages.

In reality it was only a minute before the door flew open. Yunho barrelled through, yanking his mic off and throwing it at the frantic manager who followed him. You ran at him, jumping into his arms as he placed one hand on your waist, the other on your thigh. With your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, you kissed him like it was your last chance. It was probably way too intimate for the setting you were in, but neither of you couldn’t help yourselves. 

Eventually you had to come up for air and you rested your forehead against his. “I missed you so much, love.”

“I missed you more, baby,” throats cleared behind you and Yunho sighed before he let you down after one more kiss that was a lot more appropriate for a semi-public setting. San and Wooyoung were waiting behind you. Hosung was between them, clinging both men.

“Hug. Now,” he said and you eagerly moved forward to let all three envelop you. As soon as they had, though, you regretted it.

“Ew sweaty!” Struggling against them was futile as San and Wooyoung were both stronger than you and Hosung was just giggling at your struggle. Yunho came to your rescue, pulling you from the group hug to tug you back against him. One of his arms stayed around your waist as you rested against his chest. His free hand took the water bottle that was offered to him.

“Oh so it’s not disgusting when it's him?” San gave you a mockingly offended look and Wooyoung slapped his arm.

“Of course not! She’s probably seen him much sweatier. You should know, you were his roommate!”

You buried your red face in your hands as Yunho chuckled behind you. When he finished drinking, he had slouched over to rest his head on your shoulder, still breathing heavily. 

You twisted in his arms to look at him, a hand coming up to cup his face. “You ok, Yun?”

He merely nodded and leaned into your touch, letting his eyes fall closed. You turned back to face the rest of the room, resting your head against his. Hongjoong was smiling like a lovestruck fool as he sat on the couch, letting Miyeon dab his sweat and flutter around him. San and Wooyoung seemed to have lost interest in you and Yunho, instead focusing on eying both each other and Hosung up and down as they all flirted. Doyeon and Yeosang were farther into the room, hiding from the mess of people as they conversed quietly and shared loving looks despite not physically touching each other. 

Movement caught your eye as Jongho and Mingi frantically searched for their phones in order to snap a photo of Yeri sitting sideways on Seonghwa’s lap as they made out. Your eyes went wide and you copied Jongho and Mingi, grabbing your own phone to take pictures of the pair. This would make great blackmail later on.

Yunho was stolen from you as one of the stylists insisted the boys change out of their costumes and get their makeup removed so they could go home sooner. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and allowed her to drag him towards one of the changing rooms in the back of the green room. She shoved him inside before continuing the task of collecting the rest of the men.

Yunho emerged with joggers and a sweatshirt on, dodging the makeup artist who had a wipe in his hand. “I can take my own makeup off, don’t worry. Gotta go.”

Before you could even say goodbye to the rest of the members and their partners, he was scooping your things off the couch and dragging you by the wrist into the hallway towards the exit. 

“What about-”

“I promise you will see everyone very soon, baby. Let’s go home.”

Without further complaint, you shifted so your hand was in his as the pair of you hurried down the nearly empty hallway. 

To your surprise, there wasn't a driver waiting for you. Instead, you were greeted with the sight of Yunho’s sleek black sedan. He led you over the passenger side and just when you thought he was going to open the door for you, he pressed your back into the cold glass. His lips were on yours, your hands knotted in his hoodie and his hands keeping your hips pressed tight to his.

“Yunho,” you broke away gasping for breath. “We’re in public.”

“Fuck,” he growled before kissing you again. This time, when he pulled away he did actually open the door for you. You got in quickly. He made his way around to the driver's side.

Once he was in and the doors were shut, he placed your bag and jacket at your feet before pulling you into a bruising kiss. 

He pulled away and without another word, started the car and immediately set off towards your apartment. His large right hand never left your thigh as he drove and at every red light he would kiss you senseless.

Your front door opened as the two of you stumbled inside, still locked together like you had been since the elevator had arrived at your floor. Kicking your shoes off proved to be difficult when your lips were stuck together, but you managed. When you broke for air, his lips went to your neck, sucking love bites underneath your jaw. As much as you loved the sensation, you had too much racing through your mind.

“Wait, Yunho,” he quickly pulled away from you, his hands still on your hips.

“What's wrong baby?”

You felt like you were on fire. Between your nerves about the present you had to give him and the heat pooling between your legs you could hardly think straight. “I-I have something for you.”

You took his hand and led him to your room. He let out a chuckle at the sight of your exploded suitcases from earlier but allowed himself to be sat on the edge of the bed.

You left him there to dig through the smaller of the two suitcases, producing the rectangular white box wrapped with a mint green ribbon. Clutching your prize, you made your way back to him. You stood in front of him, fidgeting with the box for a moment. 

“Y/n, what's this?” His hand reached up and you relinquished the box into his hand.

“A… a gift. One I’m really hoping you love,” you knew your nerves were showing on your face as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’ll love anything you give me,” he gave you one last smile before turning his attention to the shape in his hands. It looked so much smaller between his fingers than it had in yours.

You held your breath as he untied the ribbon, gently placing it beside him on the bed. Slowly and carefully, he lifted the lid. A million different emotions flashed across his face as he saw the contents. Confusion, shock, disbelief, hesitation, and finally, to your relief, happiness.

“Is this- are you,” he swallowed hard before starting again. “Is this real?

You nodded mutely. A moment passed before his hands were yanking you forward by the back of your thighs, his forehead resting against your sternum and his hand free hand migrating up to rest on your stomach.

“Oh my god,” his voice was quiet but it seemed to wake you from your daze. Carefully one of your hands caressed his head. After resting there for a moment he stood, holding you against him with the pressure of the arm still holding the box. His lips met yours, this time in a slow and loving dance.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered into his mouth. He held you tighter at that comment. After kissing you for a while, he parted from you, setting the box holding the positive pregnancy test and the ultrasound of the small shape growing inside you beside the ribbon.

“I guess there's no better time to do this than now,” Yunho took a step back, digging in the pocket of his joggers. He produced a small, velvet pouch that he opened as he knelt on one knee. 

You couldn’t help the gasp and single tear that escaped you. With his eyes on yours, he pulled a silver band out of the pouch. It was thin and almost fragile looking. Two strands of silver branches cradled two small diamonds that were nested against each other. It was everything you could have hoped for.

“I was planning on stealing your parent’s numbers from your phone tonight to ask them for permission,”  his eyes were watery as they looked up at you as if you were his whole world. “And then I wanted to take you somewhere, somewhere we could walk on the beach and be totally alone.”

“It’s not the Victorian era, baby,” his words brought more tears to your eyes. “You don’t need my parents' permission.”

“I know, but I wanted my proposal to be as normal as possible,” he cringed slightly. “I also haven’t met them.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind lately. Your parents knew you had a boyfriend, but that was about it. You had told them he was famous also and treated you well, but that you couldn’t tell them who he was for the safety and privacy of everyone involved. After a while, they had given up asking, but you knew they were curious. 

Oh god. His parents. You hadn’t met them either. The mere thought made you anxious. He had always been hesitant to bring them up around you. You’d heard the rumor that Korean parents didn’t allow their first born sons to marry foreigners plenty of times, but had never allowed yourself to think of it. You had figured that was a bridge you’d cross if the time came but here you were now, staring at that terrifying bridge.

As if he could sense your rising fear, he drew you back into the present with a gentle touch to your hand. The low light of your room illuminated half of his features, giving him both the look of the soft man you loved and the dark, passionate lover who stole your heart.

“We’ll deal with them later. The only people who matter now are you, me, and the little one who’s right here,” his hand not holding the ring traveled to rest over your stomach. “I didn’t have the time to rehearse my speech about how much I love you, but if I promise to perfect it and deliver it later, will you marry me, Y/n L/n?”

Before you even noticed you were moving, you fell to your knees and nodded. “Yes yes yes I will.”

His smile was blinding as he took your left hand, sliding the ring onto your ring finger. When it was settled, he pulled you into him, pressing his lips oh so sweetly to yours.

It wasn’t long until those soft, exploring kisses turned more intense. His hands were clutching you tighter to him. You felt him everywhere, surrounding you and filling your senses with nothing but Jeong Yunho.

When you broke for some much needed air, Yunho’s lips met your neck, leaving sweet, tender kisses instead of the harsh and heated bites and sucks he usually subjected you to. Not that you ever seriously complained, you loved those just as much as he did, but something about his touch now was more intense. Love poured out of his every action and you suspected his gentle movements were due to both the tenderness of the moment and the growing bundle of cells inside you.

As you panted, Yunho worked his way all the way down to the collar of your shirt before coming back up to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he breathed out, eyes closed, panting just as hard as you were.

“Show me,” your words were breathy and pleading. His eyes snapped open, their proximity almost preventing you from seeing the way they darkened slightly, still holding all the love and feelings of before, but now tinged with longing.

“Gladly, baby.”

He laid you back on the plush rug at the foot of your bed. When he eased over you, his mouth returned to yours and your legs wound around his hips. One of his hands laced with your left as the other pushed every so slightly under the hem of the shirt you wore. It didn’t move much farther than your waist but just that small movement seemed to throw gasoline on the fire that was burning in you.

 You started whining into every slow and steady pass of his tongue over yours. Your back arched at a particularly aggressive probe of his tongue into your mouth. With your body pressed tighter to his, he broke the kiss with a groan. His head dropped down to rest where your neck met your shoulder. 

“I’m trying to be gentle with you, baby. I have to now.”

That drew a little chuckle from you. “I’m not going to break just because I’m pregnant.”

Another groan fell from his lips and his hips jerked into yours. “Say it again.”

“I’m pregnant,” your voice was weaker with need now.

He sat up onto his knees, both hands gripping your hips as you laid before him. “Thought you were on birth control?”

“Seems like you’re unstoppable, Yunho,” you were grinning at him.

His own smile twisted into a self satisfied smirk. “That I am.”

Soon enough, he had you stripped beneath him, back settled comfortably into the fluffy rug. He had removed his shirt when you whined about him being overdressed but had ignored your demands that he fucked you now. You were more than ready for him. The idea of the man in front of you, your boyfriend, no, fiance, fucking you so good he defeated your birth control was incredibly and twistedly hot.

With your mind lost in fantasy of the way he moved inside you, you missed him repositioning your legs as he laid between them. You only realized where he was when he pressed a kiss to your currently flat stomach. If you looked hard enough you could almost see the small bump. When you had looked up pictures of other people at your stage of pregnancy, most had noticeable bumps. Your doctor had quickly quelled your worries about not showing yet by telling you everyone experienced pregnancy differently and that you would start showing soon enough. 

Yunho didn’t seem to mind you weren’t really showing yet as he continued to pepper kisses across your stomach. His lips felt like they were burning in the best way possible. The heat was flowing through you, heading straight to your core.

It was when those plush lips of his connected with your clit that you truly thought you were losing your mind. Thankfully, he had decided that he didn’t care about going slow anymore. 

With his lips sucking and tongue giving you small licks, one of his long fingers inched its way into you. The only reason you weren’t thrashing was the broad hand that had settled on your stomach, applying just enough pressure to keep your lower half still. Through the haze that was invading your mind from the pleasure his mouth and fingers were bringing you, you reached one of your hands down to lace your fingers through his that were pressed against you.

He seemed to like this as the pace of both his lips, tongue, and finger sped up. The addition of a second finger into you had you whining. They were tilting up, hitting the perfect spot inside you while his tongue circled your clit. 

You could feel yourself rising higher and higher as he continued his work.

It was a combination of his eyes meeting yours and the knowledge that this was the man you would spend the rest of your life with, the man who had knocked you up, the man who cared for you, who broke the rules for you, who always put your wellbeing above his, that broke you. With tears in your eyes and his name on your lips you fell apart, gripping his hand tightly and shaking as he didn’t slow his movements until you were struggling to get away from him.

When he finally stopped his ministrations, you collapsed down, feeling boneless and light. Your reprieve didn’t last long as he was quickling lifting your limp legs over his thighs. With one swift movement, he pushed himself deep inside you, hips against yours. You let out a cry. It felt like you were having another orgasm all over again as your previous one had ended only a moment before.

His body fell over yours. He quickly took ahold of both of your hands, laying them by your head as his fingers threaded through yours. Thankfully, Yunho gave you a few minutes to adjust to his length before moving. In those precious moments of closeness, he kissed you, murmuring about how much he loved you between the slow movements of his mouth against yours. 

All it took was one nod from you after he gave a tentative thrust for Yunho to truly begin. This was nothing like your typical reunion sex. Usually it was hot and messy and rough as all the anticipation that had been building during your time apart was thrust to the surface. This sex was loving and soft.

Yunho kept his eyes on yours as every movement of his hips brought new sounds to your lips. Cries of his name were followed by ragged moans and high pitched whines that every slow, calculated, and deep thrust forced out of you.

At some point you had begun crying again from a combination of the heavenly pleasure he so easily brought you and the mounting emotions the evening had thrown at you. 

Yunho’s thrusts were starting to lose their calculated movements, falling into a faster, more unstable rhythm. He was nearing his high, but so were you again. When he gave a particularly hard thrust and your walls tightened around him, one of his hands left yours to find your clit. Immediately, you placed your now free hand in his hair, dragging him back to kissing you. 

With his lips against yours, his fingers rubbing circles against your most sensitive place, and his body crushing yours into the floor beneath you, you came. Hard. All the air in your lungs rushed out in one final moan. Your head dropped to the floor and your back arched. With your walls spasming around him and the sight of you, cumming beneath him, assaulting his senses, Yunho came with you.

His groans were loud as his body shook, from the orgasm he was racked by and the exhaustion of holding himself up after a four hour long concert. When he collapsed against you, he just barely managed to keep himself from fully crushing you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, allowing your highs to fully disappear before either of you dared to move. Until he realized with a start, that he was laying on you. More specifically, on your stomach. His sudden panic propelled him off of you. 

The suddenness of him pulling out of you, cock long since gone soft, drew shocked groans and gasps from the both of you and he landed on his ass between your still spread legs. 

“Yunho? What are you doing?”

“I-I was laying on you, on our baby,” he recovered from his shock and moved himself closer to fret over you, hands meekly darting from one spot to another, all over your body.

You were quickly growing cold from his lack of warmth but the words ‘our baby’ caused your heart to flutter. “I’m ok. We’re ok, I promise.”

That softened him and he gathered you into his arms. With his worry gone, the two of you stayed curled around each other for a while longer, until you noticed his eyes drooping.

“Bed time,” you announced as you peeled yourself away from him. Tentatively, you stood, and when your legs were steady enough, you moved to the bathroom to clean the mess between your legs. After a few years of unprotected sex with Yunho that had started when you’d both gotten tested, shortly after your relationship started and you got on what you had thought was reliable form of birth control, you were able to clean yourself up quickly and efficiently. 

You both still needed to shower, but upon your return to the bedroom, you gave up on that. Washing your sheets and taking a long bath tomorrow was favorable to dragging the giant that was dozing on the floor into the bathroom.

Prodding him with your foot quickly caused him to wake up. A smile took over the confusion on his face as you stood, naked over him. 

“Come on love,” with a little more poking, you got him into bed. With care, you placed the box containing the ultrasound and positive pregnancy test on the dresser nearby before you crawled in bed and weaseled your way into his arms.

He fell asleep fast, leaving you curled into his chest. Your mind drifted as sleep slowly took over. 

You dreamt of a house in the middle of an open field with Yunho chasing a little boy around the halls while you watched with the most content smile on your face that the world had ever seen.

[failedintsave]

Help I've contracted terminal one-shot brainrot. I ventured out from my usual writing playlists and suddenly I have 5 WIPS instead of 1. Someone send coffee.

Acts of Service

The door to Twinkletits' office shut behind Toki with a click of finality, leaving him in the empty hallway with only his thoughts, muddled as they were. Normally he left a session with the therapist with at least some sense of clarity as they unwound his tangled emotions and experiences, but lately he'd felt as though he'd been haunting the corridors of Mordhaus in a fog.

Twinkletits called it seasonal affective, said some things about lack of daylight bringing it on, but Toki had his doubts. He'd grown up where winters were much darker and bleaker. He was well acquainted with the weighty oppression of the darkness. This felt different. It wasn't the sun he missed. He felt adrift, disconnected.

Even in his earliest memories Toki had always loved the holiday season. It was one of the rare times of the year that his father's church services had seemed less funerary, the inside of the chapel adorned with candles and pine boughs. When he'd gotten older and left home he'd been further enamored by the commotion and color of the season's celebration. Sparkling lights and brightly colored wrapping papers dazzled him, but his favorite part of it all was the effect the holidays seemed to have on people. They were kinder; gestures of affection and goodwill between friends and strangers alike woke a need within him. He wanted more than anything to share that kind of joyful connection with someone.

The fact that the rest of Dethklok didn't share his passion for the season of giving hadn't mattered. Every year he joyfully showered his bandmates with extravagant purchases and tried to convey his love without outright stating it and being called out on the band's strict "no caring" rule. Even though his efforts were usually received with disinterest or ignored entirely, it hardly fazed him.

But since his captivity Toki had struggled to feel connected to anyone. After the fiasco that was the Murderface/Knubbler Christmas Special last year, everyone was content to let the holiday slip by unnoticed, without even the distraction of a visit from their mothers, off on some booze drenched Christmas cruise. The holidays came and went without fanfare and time continued to slip by unmarked until Toki wasn't sure what day it was. Was it still even January, or had he drifted through an entire month?

He trudged past the doorway leading to the rec room, glancing in to where Pickles and Murderface sat watching tv, Nathan on the far end of the couch with his reading glasses and a newspaper. His movement must have caught the drummer's eye, Pickles turned his head to face the door, tipping his chin up in acknowledgment but saying nothing before returning his gaze to the screen ahead of him. Toki floated away down the hall in silence, an aimless spectre.

For a little while after his recovery the band had made real efforts to welcome him home. Murderface toned down the art of being a dick, instead offering frequent encouragement as Toki reacclimated to normal life. Pickles accompanied him to most of his physical therapy sessions, giving some excuse that he wasn't getting any younger himself and could probably use some mobility coaching. And Nathan, ever conservative with his words, had been a near constant presence, always finding a reason to pat Toki on the back or put a hand on his shoulder. But as time dragged on their day-to-day routines gradually faded back to the casual indifference of yesterday, and Toki felt himself begin to slide.

Twinkletits had made some suggestions today, mostly the usual things, exercise, light therapy, working on a hobby. He hadn't really had any desire to work on his modeling kits in months but maybe it was worth a shot. Toki pushed open the door to his bedroom and was surprised to find it occupied. 

Skwisgaar looked up from where he was seated on Toki's mattress, Flying V cradled in his lap. An opened pack of Dunlop strings and a pair of wire cutters lay next to him.

Stepping into the room, Toki tilted his head to the side. "What ams you doing?"

Skwisgaar's mouth quirked into a wry grin. "I believes you ams at least partially familiars wif dis inskruments." He twisted one of the tuning pegs, down-tuning another string for removal. "I'ms just restringings it, don't worries, nots here to sabotage you."

"But dats my guitar."

"Ja, I dids mine earlier and den I t'oughts yours ams probably dues for a fresh set too so…" he shrugged, turning his attention back to the instrument.

Toki watched as nimble fingers threaded stainless steel filaments through the bridge of his guitar with practiced ease, stepping closer as he struggled to swallow around a lump rising in his throat. He reached out to grasp the neck of the instrument, gently lifting it out of Skwisgaar's hands and setting it aside on the floor.

"I wasn't dones wif dat!" Skwisgaar's eyes tracked the guitar to it's stand, empty hands splayed open.

"It can waits."

Toki climbed onto the bed, arms snaking around the other man's middle. He buried his face between the bony ridges of Skwisgaar's collarbones, practically crawling into his lap to claim the now vacated space. The blonde made a quiet sound of surprise and wrapped slender arms behind Toki's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Concern laced the murmured question, Skwisgaar's breath warming the crown of Toki's head. "Ams you okej?"

Toki nodded, pressing closer as Skwisgaar angled them to lean back against the pillows, palm rubbing comforting circles on his back.

"You shores?"

"Ja." And he was. Maybe not entirely, but at least for now. The darkness would recede eventually, the sun would return, but for now he could be content in the illumination of the golden heartbeat beneath his cheek.

It was enough.

[musette22]

As it's Chris' birthday today, what's your Evanstan headcon for how they are spending it? We don't know if Chris is still in LA (as far as I know), do you think he might be back in Boston to be with his family? That would mean Seb could easily visit him now that the lockdown in NYC is over. Or would he fly to LA to celebrate with his bf? (He hasn't been seen in NYC in the last couple of days either, right?) Or will the only hang out virtually? I would love to know what you are imagining 😊

Hello darling!! So yesterday, I said I probably wasn’t going to write any Evanstan for a while, but then I woke up this morning and had a lovely little Evanstan headcanon fantasy about Chris’s birthday - as you do - and then I thought screw it, let’s write this thing. So here’s a little drabble (well, it should’ve been a drabble) about how Chris might have spent his birthday 😘

A/N: This is just a nonsensical little fantasy scenario that doesn’t actually make any sense, but the idea made me happy, so I hope it’ll make you guys happy too! Don’t look too closely, please, there’s some overlap with previous fics and this was all written very quickly and hasn’t been edited properly because it’s late where I am and I need to sleep lmao 🙈 Sorry about that!

Happy birthday, Mr. America 

*********

Chris likes surprises, generally speaking.

Not the nasty kind, like when a part unexpectedly falls through, or someone gets angry at him out of the blue and he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. But he likes it when exciting things happen and shake things up a bit, like when he’s having a lazy day alone at home, and a friend suddenly shows up on his doorstep to tell him, change of plans, we’re going bungee jumping. When that happens, Chris will happily drop whatever he’s doing and jump in the car, because that’s the kind of thing that makes him feel alive.

So when he arrives at the Evans’ family house today, on his birthday, and is greeted by a chorus of Surprise! and Happy Birthdays from a bunch of people he hasn’t seen ages - literal years, in some cases - Chris is delighted and touched; excited to see familiar faces and catch up with his friends and family.

That excited feeling lasts for a solid few hours, until his Aunt Melanie corners him and starts telling Chris about her Pilates instructor. This isn’t the first time she’s tried to set Chris up with whichever wonderful girl she’s most recently met and feels would be perfect for Chris, but this time she’s really hammering on about how she just can’t understand why a good-looking, successful young man like him hasn’t found a wife yet. She no doubt means well, but that doesn’t mean Chris is about to go on a blind date with her Pilates instructor.

When he’s finally managed to excuse himself under the pretense of needing a bathroom break, he sneaks off to the back of the house, to his dad’s old study. As soon as the door closes behind him, he lets out a sigh of relief and leans back against it for a moment, catching his breath. He loves his family to bits, but there’s no denying they’re a lot. There’s a sofa in the study, a wide, navy blue one, and Chris lies down on it, stretching himself to his full length. He closes his eyes, hoping to nap for a couple of minutes, but no dice. His aunt’s comments play in his head on a loop, causing something uneasy to stir in his stomach.

The thing is, she’s right. He should already be married and have a couple of cute kids to dote on. He’s wanted to have a family and settle down for a long time, ever since he got done with sowing his wild oats and calmed down a little. He’s the long-term relationship kind, and there had been a few girlfriends with whom he thought he definitely could see a future.

That had been Before, though. Before Sebastian Stan had waltzed into his life and upended everything Chris thought he knew for certain, complicating everything in the best and worst possible way. After the initial shock of developing feelings for another guy wore off, Chris had simply accepted his infatuation as a fact of life, and it had become something he carried with him always, but never acted on or even spoke of. He wouldn’t know where to start. It was clear there was something between them, though. The way Sebastian looked at him sometimes… It had to mean something. For the longest time, they’d danced around each other, always just shy of outright flirting, and there had been a few times when Chris really thought something might finally happen between them. But it never did.

And now it never would. They’ve hardly even seen each other, over the past year, after they stopped working together. Sure, they kept in touch from time to time, but there is only so much keeping in touch two work friends can plausibly do before it gets weird or necessarily has to turn into something else. And Chris thought he’d accepted that, more or less.

But then last week, he and Scott had gotten drunk together – like really, stupidly drunk. At around 3 in the morning, Scott had put on The First Avenger so he could make fun of Chris in his skin tight leggings, and then suddenly Sebastian’s face had been right there on his TV screen: larger than life, young and handsome like he’d been when Chris first felt that tug in his gut when he’d looked at him.

And Chris, whose brain-to-mouth filter unfortunately ceases to exist entirely whenever he’s had too much to drink, had just blurted out, “I think I’m in love with him.”

Initially, Scott had thought Chris meant that Steve was in love with Bucky. 

“Well, clearly,” he’d slurred. “They’re soooo gay, oh my god.”

And instead of using the misunderstanding to cover up for his unfortunate drunken slip-up, Chris had slowly shook his head and corrected, “No, with Sebastian. ‘M in love with Sebastian. Have been for a long time, I think.”

He’d passed out not long after, possibly his subconscious’ way of trying to protect himself against the barrage of questions from Scott that Chris had been in no state to answer in that moment. Inevitably, Scott had tried to talk to him about it the next day, but Chris – hungover, embarrassed and annoyed with himself for opening his big mouth and spilling this secret that he’d managed to keep for close to a decade – had told Scott to leave it and that he didn’t want to talk about it. Nothing was ever going to come of this now anyway, so it was much better if they could all just forget it ever happened.

Scott and he had gone to dinner at their mom’s that night, and of course, Lisa had instantly sensed something was off. Unfortunately, Chris never did stand a chance in hell against his mother, so when she took him to aside after dinner and outright asked him what was wrong, he’d had no choice but to spill the beans. Besides, if he didn’t, Scott would probably have found a way to guilt him into telling Lisa, eventually - they’d always shared everything with her, after all.

Lisa had been so loving and understanding, just like Chris knew she would, and despite the aching in his chest, he was grateful and a little bit relieved to know he wasn’t keeping something this significant from her any longer. But in the end, it didn’t change anything. Of course, Lisa had asked him why he didn’t just go for it, told him to just go for it, call Sebastian and ask him out for dinner, but Chris had dismissed all her suggestions. It just wasn’t going to happen. Certainly not now, not anymore.

She’d dropped it, eventually, but Chris is under no illusions that he’s heard the last of it.

Since then, he’d tried to put the whole fiasco out of his mind, but then Aunt Melanie started badgering him about his marital status and it had all come rushing back again.

Just when Chris about to give up on trying to nap and head outside to get some fresh air instead, there’s a knock at the door.

Chris sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Come in,” he calls, not bothering to get up because it’s probably his mom coming to check on him. “Hey, mom,” he says, when Lisa’s head does appear around the door.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she replies, smiling. She opens the door a little wider. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” Chris says, sitting up a little straighter for whatever friend or family member his mom wants him to meet so urgently, but then Lisa steps aside to reveal –  

Sebastian.

Sebastian is here. In his mom’s house. Standing right there, looking a little apprehensive and unsure, but still so fucking gorgeous it makes Chris’s heart stop for a moment inside his chest, before it starts up again at double speed.

“Hey, Chris,” Sebastian says, and it’s his voice, he’s really here, in Chris’s dad’s old study, speaking actual words at him.

What the fuck.

Chris gets to his feet so fast he feels a bit lightheaded, lightly swaying on his feet before he manages to get some semblance of a reply. "Hi. What- Sebastian. What are you doing here?"

Sebastian’s eyes flicker to Lisa for a moment, looking at her a little uncertainly. She gives him an encouraging nod.

“Um,” Sebastian starts, turning his eyes back to Chris again. “Lisa, your mom, invited me to your surprise birthday party.” He licks his lips nervously. “So, yeah, happy birthday. And, um. Surprise.” The last word is accompanied by a dorky little wave, and Chris is just. Speechless.

Literally, can’t form any words speechless, which is highly unusual for him. When he just keeps standing there, staring a Sebastian like he’s some kind of fata morgana, Lisa rolls her eyes and nudges Sebastian with her elbow.

“Well, go on, then,” she prompts, nodding in Chris’s direction. “He won’t bite.” Then, the look in her eyes turns mischievous, and Chris has half a second to think oh no, before she adds, “Unless you like that sort of thing, of course, but then he'd ask first. I raised him well.”

Sebastian makes a strangled sound, but starts towards him nonetheless, and before he really knows what’s happening, Chris is holding Sebastian in his arms. Holding him in his arms and burying his face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. Sebastian’s arms go around him, too, a little tentative at first, but growing tighter, more secure, the longer the hug lasts. 

And it lasts, much longer than a casual happy birthday hug between friends is supposed to last, but Chris can’t for the life of him bring himself to let go. He knows he’s clinging, that he’s got his nose pressed to the spot below Sebastian’s ear and that’s probably far too intimate, but Sebastian’s arms around are wound tightly around Chris’s waist and his cheek is presses to the side of Chris’s face, and he’s not letting go either.

Finally, after what feels simultaneously like forever and the blink of an eye, Sebastian inhales shakily, his chest expanding against Chris’s. With Herculean effort, Chris makes himself pull away. But, of course, that brings with it the complication of being able to see Sebastian’s face, flustered and glowing, eyes shining with something unnameable. They’re so close then, their faces only an inch or so apart, and when Sebastian’s eyes flicker down to Chris’s mouth for a split second, Chris’s restraint breaks.

He lunges forward, and Sebastian does the same, and their mouths crash together awkwardly and suddenly, they’re kissing. Really, actually kissing. 

Chris’s hands fly to Sebastian’s face, holding it like it’s something precious, causing Sebastian to make a small, desperate sound that reverberates throughout Chris’s entire body. When he licks at the seam of Sebastian’s lips, Sebastian parts them immediately, letting him in, and Chris is drowning. Drowning in the kiss, in Sebastian’s taste, his smell, the little sighs he’s making against Chris’s lips, like he’s just as overwhelmed and stupefied and happy as Chris is, while they cling to each other like they’re each scared the other’s going to disappear if they dare to let up for just one second.

Eventually, though, they have to break apart for air. Chris presses their foreheads together, unwilling to put any more distance between them than is strictly necessary, still breathing the same air. When Chris eventually opens his eyes, he finds Sebastian looking back at him in a way that makes his knees feel suddenly weak.

"Hi," Seb says, voice low and husky.

"Hey," Chris replies, his hands on either side of Sebastian’s face, thumbs idly caressing his cheekbones.

Sebastian giggles, a light, happy sound that makes his nose do that scrunchy thing it does, and Chris wants to die. He groans, pulling Sebastian back in by the back of his neck –

And then Lisa clears her throat. Sebastian startles; he’d evidently forgotten she was still there, or maybe assumed she’d have left to give them their privacy, but that just goes to show Sebastian doesn’t know Lisa very well – yet.

"Well,” Lisa says, a grin in her voice. “I'll leave you two to it then, let me know if you need anything.” She pauses, before cheekily adding, “Anything at all."

“Yes, thank you, mom,” Chris says quickly, keen to spare Sebastian any further embarrassment. Sebastian’s hiding his face in Chris’s chest as it is, arms still wound around his waist, and Chris is literally about to pass out from how fucking cute that is.

Holding up a placating hand, Lisa finally retreats, closing the door behind her.

Once they’re alone, Chris steers Sebastian towards the couch, sitting down and pulling him into his lap. Sebastian lets himself be guided, straddling Chris’s thighs and giving him a coy look through his eyelashes. Chris blows out a slow breath to center himself a little, bringing up his hands to settle on Sebastian’s waist.

He knows they’ll need to talk about this at some point, but right now he can’t think of a single way to express what he’s feeling, and what this means to him. Right now, all he can do is stare at Sebastian in wonder, relishing finally getting to look at him the way he’s always wanted to: unabashedly, fondly, and very appreciative of exactly how tempting Sebastian’s lips look – especially after having been thoroughly kissed. By him.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes, overwhelmed, leaning in again to catch those pretty pink lips in another kiss.

Sebastian responds beautifully, opening up right away, melting into him. His arms wind around Chris’s shoulders, fingers scratching gently through the hair on the back of Chris’s head, making him shiver.

It’s sweet, at first; lips sliding together lazily, slow and lush, but eventually, the kisses turn a little dirtier, with nipping teeth and teasing tongues. When Sebastian bites Chris’s bottom lip a bit too hard, pulling on it, Chris literally goes cross-eyed for a second. The hand that found its way into Sebastian’s hair tightens instinctively, pulling his head back just a little.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, eyelids fluttering, and Chris instantly feels all his blood rushing south.

He can’t believe it. He can’t believe he has Sebastian here, in his lap, looking like innocence and sin wrapped into one, looking at him through heavy lidded eyes like it’s Chris who’s something to be desired. And Chris wants. He wants so bad, with every fiber of his being, to have Sebastian right there and then, but he has just enough presence of mind left to know that they can’t rush this, can’t make any rash decisions they might later regret if they don’t talk about what’s happening first.

Words still seem impossible, however, so instead, Chris takes one of Sebastian’s hands in his and presses a kiss to the center his palm, hoping to convey with that one gesture everything he wants to say but can’t.

When he looks back up, Sebastian blinks at him, his eyes wide and stunned, before he suddenly grabs Chris’s face between his hands and starts planting breathless kisses on his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, and even his nose. Chris lets himself be kissed, basks in it, feeling like his heart might burst, and when Sebastian finally presses his lips to his mouth, Chris seizes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Despite Chris’s best intentions, it turns heated again in no time. Without his permission, his hands slide under Sebastian’s shirt, stroking the smooth, warm skin of his back, while Sebastian mouths at Chris’s jaw, then trails a path of kisses down the column of his neck.

“Seb,” Chris groans, hands tightening convulsively on Sebastian’s waist. “Sebastian, wait.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Sebastian pants, lifting his head to look down at him. He’s disheveled, his hair a mess, pupils blown, his lips red and a little raw from mouthing at Chris’s beard. He looks stunning.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Chris says honestly, touching Sebastian’s left cheek.

Sebastian ducks his head turning his face into Chris’s palm, but he’s smiling, which makes Chris smile, too, then they’re just smiling at each other like a couple of dorks.

Chris shifts their positions to get more comfortable, tugging at Sebastian until they’re both lying on the couch on their sides, face to face. Pulling him closer, into his chest, Chris swings a leg over both of Sebastian’s, and Sebastian takes the hint immediately, snuggling into Chris and tucking his head under his chin so they’re full on cuddling.

“Best fucking birthday present ever,” Chris mutters into Sebastian’s hair, his hand tracing idle patters on Sebastian’s upper arm. In reply, Sebastian presses a kiss to Chris’s chest, over his heart.

Somehow, they snooze for a little while, just drifting in and out of consciousness, neither of them seeming to want to untangle themselves from the other, until after an indeterminate amount of time, there’s a soft knock at the door.

Chris hums questioningly in reply, not wanting to wake Sebastian, and the door opens cautiously. Lisa pokes her head in again, and the moment she sees them, all wrapped around each other like that, she covers her mouth with her hands, cooing softly.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” she whispers, her eyes shining with affection and pride.

“Thanks, mom,” Chris whispers back, blinking back tears. “Love you.”

From where he’s half asleep on Chris’s chest, Sebastian murmurs, “Love you, too.”

[wickednerdery]

Title: The Guest Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: The Night Manager Pairing/character: Jonathan Pine/OC Rating: Teen Summary: “Care to help me?” Notes: This is something that’s been bouncing in my brain for, like, almost a year (on-and-off)…still not sure I have more than snapshots, but it finally came out onto paper just now lol!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter

The characters stare back at Pine and he realizes his mistake. He might as well hit the screen at random for all he knows of Asiatic languages and, iPad useless, he’s taken an unnecessary risk. With no plausible way to return it, he tosses it aside and turns on the TV.

Weather, traffic, politics... A story catches his interest halfway through, when two men are led into a police station in cuffs. He recognizes them as the two that had threatened Kay in their search for Ricardo. 

He pulls out his laptop, searches their names and finds a series of articles concerning various arrests spanning years. Multiple assaults and weapons charges, a suspicion of murder or two, numerous drug-related activities, and a couple of kidnappings. There’s no mention of Ricardo or Kay. Yet they’re all connected, somehow. Two career criminals, a ghost of a person, and Kay. Curious. 

He closes laptop with a sigh.

***

“Hey Shakespeare!” Qi waves him over from the main desk. “You happen to see an iPad around? Kay forgot hers on the table, just went to check and there’s nothing. None of the employees have seen it and May doesn’t have it either.”

Jonathan decides to confess. “I have it.” Sort of. “It was within the pages of the magazine I collected.”

“Oh thank god, where is it?” She’s already heading around. “In your room?” 

“Yes, I’ll go get it.”

“Not like you could get in it anyway, right?” She teases, laughs.

He only smiles plainly at her with promises to return shortly, which he does. “How is her...emergency going?”

“She didn’t say, but if she was having trouble she would, don’t worry.”

“It doesn’t bother you? Being asked to help while kept in the dark?”

“I’m not that deep, Shakespeare.” Qi laughs.

“You’re not shallow either.”

“Be still my heart,” she cracks, then answers in earnest. “I’m used to it. Kay’s always been like this. Even as a kid, kinda. Quiet, head down...friendly, but doesn’t share a lot, even with family and friends.”

“Mmm...”

“Like you, it would seem.”

Pine only laughs.

“Anyway, thanks for the iPad.”

“Of course.”

***

Kay returns as Jonathan is heading out for a run; he planned it, she didn’t. She goes to pull a shopping bag out of the back. “Thanks for holding onto my iPad.”

“My apologies for taking it,” he smiles, heading over. 

“Well, it’s not as if you did it on purpose, now is it?” 

He can’t tell if it’s a tease or an accusation, so moves on. “Those men that came here looking for your guest were arrested today.”

“Good, one less thing to worry about.” Kay closes and locks her car as she comes around. “And, before you ask, no, I don’t want to talk about it. I appreciate whatever concern you might have, but if they’re arrested, then it’s done.”

“Very well.” But Pine’s not one to give up so easily. “How was your errand?”

“It was fine, thank you.” For a moment she says nothing else, then makes her decision. “I’m having a late check-in, tonight, would you like to help me prepare the room?”

“Are you certain?”

“I’m certain you know how to make up a hotel room better than May or Qi.” Her own instinct to hold back, protect, fights her growing desire to let him in even just a little bit more. “Care to help me?”

Jonathan smiles. “Yes, yes, of course, with whatever you might need.” It’s a small favor, but Pine hopes, perhaps, it’s the opening he needs to discover more.

So I intentionally use Jonathan and Pine separately to show the two sides of him: Jonathan is the regular guy, the one who wants peace and quiet and likes Kay a great deal while Pine is the spy, the one who doesn’t trust and wants to figure out what Kay’s up to whether he likes her or not. ...As I’ve said, their progress will be slow - slow-burn, woohoo, lol! - but there is progress here, I think, which is a good sign haha!

((Gifs found on Google, adjusted by me!))

Tagging Who Might Care: @lady-crowned-with-stars @holykryptonitekitten @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @beccaliciooouuusss @michellearel1 @sweetfictionalworld @lukeevansandjdmobession @lokilvrr @rizzo87 @alexakeyloveloki @wintertink @moonfaery @annievvv7​ @creedslove​ @wadeyouwitch​ @cassadius​ @tarithenurse​ @kellatron55​ @coppercorn-and-cauldron​ @iwasbusybeingdead​ @kavery12 @green-valkyrie​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @toozmanykids​ @theangelsfightwithdevils​ @poetic-fiasco

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Twenty-Nine - Who Wants To Be Rich and Famous

“We need to start discussing the wedding.” Victor initiated the subject over morning coffee, wearing his usual LFG CEO, all-business-no-play expression. “First order of business: the date.”

“Oh my.” I teased, but I still corrected my posture on my chair, straightening my back. “I was thinking about either a Spring or Fall wedding. The heat is unforgivable here, I don’t want pit stains on my dress.”

“You want to get married here?” Victor raised an eyebrow at me.

The realization that came with that simple question hit me hard. If I was talking to an ordinary guy, the obvious answer would be that we had to get married in Loveland, because that was where we both lived. But Victor wasn’t an ordinary guy. He actually had the financial power of planning a wedding in ANY part of the world, and comfortably fly all the guests there, without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t like I didn’t know Victor was rich, but the truth was I never stopped to think how financially well off he was. The first word that came when I thought of Victor, besides hot or love , was successful . But for some reason, not rich .

“I don’t know, actually.” I started playing with my bracelet. “I would like to marry at someplace that is meaningful for us.”

“Hmm.” Victor looked up for a moment, pondering on my words. “Not Souvenir, it is too small. Not Dubai, because we would have to explain…” He smiled mischievously at me. “Where we shared our first kiss? That would be a great idea, actually.” He took his tablet and started tapping, searching for something.

“You mean in the middle of the street in Paris?” I frowned. “Too… public, don’t you think? Although Jules Verne could do the catering.” Sure, a Michelin awarded restaurant doing my catering. So easy and common!

“You know our first kiss wasn’t in Paris.” Victor frowned at me, looking up from behind his glasses.

“Excuse me?” I frowned back at him. “I’m not senile, I know it was.”

“Our first kiss as a couple was in Paris, but it wasn’t our first kiss.” Victor stubbornly insisted. I was suddenly confused by his confidence.

“Ok, spill it.” I glared at him, tired of walking around the question. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Remember the gala we went to, in Creekwood?” He raised his eyebrows at me, expecting for the penny to drop.

“That wasn’t a kiss, that was an accident!” I laughed. But Victor was staring at me, in all seriousness. “Wasn’t it?”

“Maybe for you.” He gave me a cocky and knowing smile. I just stared at him, the wheels in my mind turning ever so slowly. “Ok, let me walk you through it. Stand up.” He got up from his chair and took my hand. I obediently followed.

“Ok, now what?” I asked, as he assumed a dancing stance, holding me in his arms.

“I invited you to dance, we were dancing that Aretha Franklin song, Say a little prayer for you , remember?” He said, swaying to the music inside his head.

“Ok…” I played along.

“Then the music stopped, and Sting was on. When we dance. It was a slow dance, so you wanted to stop and go back to your seat. But I didn’t let you. So we started dancing that one.” Victor assumed a different position, wrapping his arms around me.

“How can you remember all the songs that were playing?” I looked at him, surprised. “I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday.”

“I remember every single detail of that night.” He declared. “And I made you pancakes yesterday. So, do you remember what happened next?”

“I told you I would do you a favor. So Miss Bates would really think we are together.” I smiled.

“Exactly.” Victor nodded. “You told me to lower my hands on your back, and I obliged.” He slowly lowered his hands on my back, sending shivers through my spine. “Then you asked me to bring my face closer to yours. And I did.” He lowered his head, and I could feel his breath touch my skin. And it was just for the sake of fully understanding what had happened that I didn’t kiss him there and then. “And here’s when things were a little different for me.”

“Wait, you stole that kiss?” I asked, after replaying the whole thing in my mind. Sneaky beautiful man.

“I already had feelings for you by that time. I had had them for quite a while. I didn’t invite you to be my beard, I couldn’t care less about Miss Bates. I wanted to spend time with you and get to know you. And I wanted to show you I wasn’t as bad as you thought I was.” Victor lovingly rubbed his nose against mine. “Also, after the Mia fiasco, I promised myself I would be bolder, if I was lucky enough to love someone again.”

“So I kissed you on the cheek…” My lips touched his skin, and neither of us could help the content sigh.

“And all I had to do was to turn my head. I had been thinking about kissing you the whole evening.” His lips met mine, just like that night, only this time the kiss wasn’t as soft. All the slow build-up resulted in a hot fiery kiss, and it would turn into something more if we didn’t have to go to work.

“So our first kiss was in Creekwood.” I croaked when we broke the kiss.

“Well, technically yes, but I was the only one truly enjoying the kiss. You thought it was just pretend.” Victor argued, still holding me in his arms.

“Victor, I wasn’t pretending. The kiss was unexpected, but I was actually kissing you back. I thought you thought it was just pretending.” I pulled him closer.

“Is that so? The time we have wasted.”  His lips teased mine. “If only I had known, I would have kissed you all night long.” His tongue grazed my upper lip, making me lose my mind. I deepened the kiss, crazy with lust.

Thankfully (or maybe not) my phone rang. It was Diane. And this time I was wise enough to put it on speaker, not wanting to lose an eardrum for good.

“Hey, Di, you’re on speaker. What’s up?”

“I didn’t know you like soccer.” There was a mischievous tone in her voice. Victor suddenly grabbed his phone.

“It was a charity- Wait.” I paused. “How do you know?”

“Channel 24. Right now.” Diane instructed.

Victor grabbed the TV remote, to turn the kitchen’s TV on. And the first thing we saw was us, on the kiss cam, kissing.

Look at her Perry! She notices the cam is filming, kisses him on the cheek. The guy notices, and… There! There you go! Full on her lips! She’s melting, look at that! The CEO’s got moves!

In her defense, every girl would melt under those lips. Victor Lee is pretty easy on the eyes.

I was frozen, hypnotized by the screen in front of me. I hear Victor’s livid voice behind me.

“I’ll make them regret this.” He gripped my shoulders. “The lawyers made it perfectly clear that you are not to be discussed in the media.”

“It’s fine.” I turned to show him I wasn’t upset. “They are talking about our kiss, not my abuse. Actually, they’re talking a lot more about you than me.”

Ok, he may seem grumpy and have that bad temper reputation, but I think it adds to the charm.  I would love to have that CEO boss me around any day!

I stifled a laugh, watching Victor’s cheek turning pink.

All jokes aside, we are happy for the couple. It was about time Loveland’s Most Eligible Bachelor to find love. And the way they look at each other, it’s true love, I’m sure.

He definitely put a ring on it! Look at the size of that rock!

Another channel commented that it's a blue diamond, incredibly rare. Her ring is probably worth something close to a million dollars.

I looked at my hand with dread.

“Victor…” I called, afraid to ask the question. “How much did my ring cost?”

“You’re not supposed to know that.” He hurriedly picked up his suitcase, turning to leave. “I’ll see you later. Don’t worry about dinner, I’m cooking tonight.”

“Victor.” I stood in front of him, not letting him leave. “Do I have a million dollars on my finger?”

“Of course not.” He avoided my gaze. “Who do you take me for?”

“Victor.”

“Andy.” The nickname said it all. He wanted to appease me. He was hiding something.

“How much did my engagement ring cost? How many people could I feed with it?”

Victor gave me a smug smile.

“None, obviously. Diamonds are not nutritious, dummy.” He chuckled at his own joke. Mocking me.

“Victor Lee, drop the diversions and answer me!”

He quickly took me in his arms, kissing me, and he did it so sweetly, so perfectly, that I couldn’t help but melt in his arms, oblivious to the world around me.

“I love you. Enjoy your day.” He pecked me on the lips, as I tried to recover from the daze the kiss brought me.

And it was when he closed the door that I realized that he had made me temporarily forget what I was angry about, so he could make a run for it. Damn it.

Later that day, I went to LFG to meet Diane for lunch. Obviously everyone had heard about the engagement, so I was surrounded by people congratulating me or simply wanting to say hi. Ten minutes after, I hear Victor’s voice in my ear, coming from behind me.

“My fiancée comes to my company and doesn’t even bother to come to my office to greet me? I’m severely offended.” He scolded playfully.

“I didn’t even know you’d be here! I came to meet Diane!” I defended myself, giving his muscular arms a soft squeeze. He took my hand, lacing his fingers in mine, leading me to his office.

“There’s someone who wants to see you.”

When I entered Victor’s office, I was immediately greeted with a suffocating hug.

“Andrea! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you both!” Mia jumped while hugging me, making me jump too.

Although my opinion of Mia had improved slightly since that gala at the University, I was still somewhat conditioned to relate Mia with things I didn’t like. I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable around her. And although I could imagine what she was doing in LFG, I didn’t like to find she was spending time alone with my fiancé .

“Thank you, Mia!” I put my serene smile in place.

“You should’ve seen Victor’s face when he saw you through his window! His face lightened up, so cute!” Mia cooed.

“Is that so?” I smiled at him lovingly, giddy to see him blush a little.

“Mia wants to interview us and be the face of the media coverage of our wedding.” Victor quickly changed the subject, clearing his throat.

“Oh, that is so not going to happen! Sorry, Mia.” Victor gave Mia an I told you so look. “Wait, are you serious? Why does our wedding need media coverage?” I knew it! I knew I wouldn’t like it.

“Because it’s going to be the event of the year!” Mia almost jumped with excitation. “We must do a magazine article with both of you, photoshoot and interview. Then another photoshoot of Andrea picking wedding dresses, not revealing the one she’s wearing, of course, and then the wedding itself, the reception…”

All this new information, Mia’s excitement and my fear of exposure got my mind reeling incredibly fast, and for a moment I felt like I was about to faint. I pulled one of Victor’s chairs to sit down.

“Andrea, are you feeling well? You look pale.” He got up from his seat and kneeled in front of me, holding my shoulders.

I didn’t reply, focused on my breathing, trying hard not to make a scene. Victor silently rubbed my shoulders, his eyes trained on me, ready to act if he saw the slightest change of expression.

“This seems to happen a lot to you, Andrea.” Mia chimed in. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Oh shut up, just shut up already.

“Mia, do you mind leaving us alone?” Victor turned to her, his expression grave. “We will discuss this and let you know of our decision.”

“Of course. Andrea, if you need anything, just call. I know you will be really busy with the paparazzi following you around all the time, if you need a few tips-”

“Would you please leave?” Victor looked at her with fury in his eyes. Her mouth snapped shut, and she left with an understanding nod.

“Do you really want to do this? Have our lives exposed like this? It’s like having guests at our wedding we didn’t invite!” I turned to Victor, after making sure she was gone.

“The alternative is worse.” Victor’s voice softened as he spoke. “This is about damage control. If we don’t do this, there will be a race for the newest and juiciest gossip, and they will take any measures necessary to achieve it. However, if we declare we already have a company with the rights for the coverage, they will leave us alone, and Mia will deal with it. Furthermore, we will have absolute control over what is published. No focus on your abuse or on any matter we don’t want to discuss.”

“It’s too much.” I shook my head. “You heard what she wants to do, she wants to follow me everywhere! I can’t stand to take a picture, let alone do a photoshoot!” I saw the worry in Victor’s eyes, and lowered my head. “I don’t know, it just came as a surprise, I never imagined you’d be so famous.”

“Do you regret having said yes?” Victor looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

“No, of course not.” I held his face, pecking him on the lips. “I may not like this, but I do love you. And that’s all that matters.”

“Let’s discuss it at dinner tonight. I’ll make that salmon you like, we open a nice bottle of wine, and we talk about it with a clear head.” Victor smiled reassuringly, brushing an astray curl from my face. “We don’t have to do anything just yet, and if we do, we don’t have to do all she requested. We’ll figure it out together, the two of us, without any additional pressure.”

“I don’t know, will there be dessert after?” I smiled, suggestively wrapping my arms around him.

“I can make some chocolate lava cake, if you want.” Victor played dumb, and I playfully glared at him. “Oh, you mean me? It depends on how good your proposal is. I’m soon to be married, I’m not taking just any offer these days.”

“Or... I could get you drunk.” I teased.

“That could actually work.” He teased back. “Now go. Go meet with Diane, enjoy your lunch, take the chance to relax. And tell her that should she decide to extend her lunchtime a little, the Boss will look the other way.”

I left the office smiling, promising myself that this wasn’t a big deal, that it was just something that it would take some getting used to. But the truth was, I loved him so much I didn’t even think to look around him, not really. The new reality that was being forced on me, that he was indeed that rich and famous, was making me uncomfortable.

But this was Victor, the man that made me feel loved above anything else and the man I loved above anything else. The man that helped overcome my trauma, welcoming me softly in his arms, choosing to give me the immense love he had to offer. He was the man that gave all of himself, and asked for nothing in return. And because of that, I wanted to give him my everything.

I would do the photoshoot and everything else necessary to make his life easier, better, and happier. I would do my best and I would make him proud, because he deserved it. But most importantly, because I loved that beautiful man and the light he had inside him, and I would do anything it took to keep it shining brightly.

[assdiscourse]

IronDad Bingo (1): Hibernation

Note: I saw this challenge and decided to do it but idk who made it or like if I’m supposed to credit someone for the board cause I just chose a random one so lemme know whuddup with that and ENJOY! (also this isn’t beta read because im 19 nd dunno how to fukin read)

Peter didn’t realise how screwed he was until he tried to stand up from the couch to go grab his phone from his backpack, which he had haphazardly thrown aside somewhere near the entrance of the penthouse along with his jacket upon arrival, and then just- couldn’t.

Come to think of it, he had been steadily feeling more and more worn out the closer he got to the Tower. The minute he stepped in, it was almost as if the air was heavier, weighing him down and making it harder to walk. He had just chalked that up to being drained from school; after three tests, having to listen to all the chatter about the Winter Formal coming up, and of course, Flash being Flash, it had seemed reasonable to believe that it was just all of that catching up to him.

But then again, the tests had been really easy considering how far ahead he was from the school’s curriculum thanks to Mr. Stark’s vast collection of books on almost every topic Peter has ever been curious about, and his generosity in letting Peter ‘borrow’ them whenever he wanted and annotate the hell out of them until they just about doubled in width with the amount of sticky notes he stuffed in there and found a home on his desk back at the apartment rather than untouched in Mr. Stark’s library since he preferred the convenience of reading on his screens, unlike Peter, who loved the heavy weight of a book in his hands.

The Winter Formal was another potential stressor but honestly, ever since the Homecoming fiasco, Peter has felt pretty much unattached to school dances. He would go if Ned or MJ wanted to go, although the latter was less likely, but otherwise he couldn’t care less. Maybe it was because he was prone to ditching school events, which Liz could corroborate for him if she wasn’t all the way in Oregon (which, by the way, his fault. He knows he made the right choice that night but that doesn’t do anything to lessen the guilt of being the reason her whole life got uprooted), but also because school dances pretty much revolved around dating and asking someone out or getting asked out, and Peter was beyond dating, at least for now when he had so many other exciting things to focus on that his brain doesn’t even entertain the idea of it.

Flash was the only remaining factor but Peter had pretty much gotten used to his mocking and PG version of violence compared to what he faced out in the streets, so it almost faded into the background now. (Almost)

So logically, Peter should have known that something wasn’t right when his vision started fading in and out as he tried to focus on Karamo’s wise words on self-love, which apparently never sunk in even after binge-watching the entire first season of Queer Eye in one day, because he ignored all the signs screaming ‘SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT!’ and now he’s stuck on Mr. Stark’s couch whilst he and Ms. Potts are in a meeting for another hour.

In all fairness, having an IQ of 180 didn’t mean Peter was actually smart because, as his friends will verify, he was a dumb shit with no sense of self-preservation and apparently zero (0) common sense.

“Friday,” He managed to squeeze out, but it wasn’t loud enough to alert the AI, barely a whisper because he’s pretty sure he’s being strangled or something.

Tears started to leak from his eyes from the frustration of not being able to move or call for help. (and also being terrified)

“Hhhel—”

“Fri–”

“please–”

He could feel his lips move, but no sound was coming out. Vision hazy, unable to breathe, his limbs weighed down, and a scared plea for help on his lips were the last things he felt before the world went black.

_______

Waking up after sustaining an injury whilst out as Spiderman and losing consciousness was always weird. He would always have to fight through the fog left behind by the sedatives and the first of his senses he got back was always his hearing, and then slowly came the rest.

He would hear the steady beeps of the heart monitor, and Mr. Stark usually pacing around the room. He would hear the small sniffles Aunt May tried to hide as she cried tears of frustration and worry, sitting beside his bed.

This was different.

When he reached consciousness, the first thing he did was feel, and he felt warm. He could feel a heaviness on top of him but instead of a boulder crushing him down, it felt like soft blankets enveloping him. He could feel warm air rushing around him as if the air vents were right next to his face. And most importantly, he could feel two warm bodies on either side of him.

All in all, he felt warm.

And soon, confused.

He sluggishly blinked his eyes open, and turned his head only to be met with the sight of Ms. Potts- THE Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, Powerhouse, his mentor’s fiance, and his kinda mother-figure (although he would never admit it), curled up asleep next to him.

His eyes widened, and his confusion grew astronomically, as he whipped his head to the other side only to be met with a mouthful full of fabric and a light in his eyes.

Mortified, he realised he was tucked under Mr. Stark’s chin, currently very much cuddling his mentor, the same man whose idea of affection was limited to ruffling his hair, putting an arm around his shoulders, or only in the rare cases, usually when Peter read a social cue wrong, hugs.

He tried scrambling out of what he now registered as Mr. Stark and Ms. Pott’s bed, in their ROOM HOLY SHI- but just sitting up had made his head spin horribly and he couldn’t really leave without disturbing them both.

He tried to calm down, slow down his now heaving breaths because he was panicking okay?

Cuddling with Ms. Pott’s was okay because she has always been physically affectionate, from kissing his forehead, to hugs before he left, and even occasionally, falling asleep on her whilst the three of them watched movies in the lounge, so he didn’t think she would mind.

But Mr. Stark?

Mr. Stark wasn’t one for physical affection, and although he must have ended up in their bed by their own volition considering the last thing he remembered was feeling faint whilst watching Queer Eye on the couch outside in the lounge, but it didn’t mean Mr. Stark would be comfortable with him cosying up to him in his own bed.

Which - huh. In his panicking, he had forgotten his confusion, which came back full force now, because? Why was he in their bed anyway?

“Kid?”

He looked back to see Mr. Stark blinking awake.

Peter, of course, immediately started awkwardly rambling, “Mr. Stark! Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I was trying really hard not to but then I couldn’t leave the bed as well and I’m confused I don’t really know why I’m here and sorry for getting spit on your shirt-”

“Kid, calm down. How’re you feeling?”

“Fine? A little tired, but nothing I can’t handle.” Which- not entirely the truth, cause his body feels sore all over, but it’s not the worst he’s ever felt so.

Mr. Stark closes his eyes for a bit and breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t say anything else, so the only thing Peter can hear is Ms. Potts’ light snoring, which confuses him even more, because isn’t this weird? Why is Mr. Stark acting like this is no big deal?

“Uh, Mr. stark, can I ask, um, why am I here?”

“What do you mean kid?” Mr Stark said, sitting up a little against the headboard, and reaching for a glass of water on his side table, taking a sip and then handing the rest to Peter, who swigged it down in three big gulps, cause wow he didn’t realise how thirsty he was, before answering, “Like, well, here. Asleep. In your bed.”

“You don’t remember?” Mr. Stark asked looking a little concerned, but not alarmed so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

“Um no..?”

“Kid, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I remember being on the couch and watching tv and oh! I tried to get my phone but I couldn’t get up-”

And then it all came back to Peter - realising he could barely move, feeling scared but unable to call for help or do much of anything, the helplessness.

“I got an alert from Friday saying your heartbeat had dropped dangerously low, so Pepper and I rushed home, only to find you looking catatonic on the couch.” Mr. Stark shuddered, the lines around his mouth looked deeper as they held a frown, his eyes a bit scared as he recalled, “You were apparently going into hibernation which, I know we hypothesized the possibility of it, but at the moment I didn’t think-

Anyway, the heating had been shut off for maintenance so the penthouse temperature had fallen to around forty-two, and fuck kid, you didn’t even have a jacket on, being exposed to that temperature for such a long time caused your body to start shutting down, you were damn near hypothermic. I called Bruce, and he said everything should be fine as long as we got you warm and kept an eye on you, so Pepper suggested we bring you here. You’ve woken up twice since but this is the most coherent you’ve been so far, so that’s good.”

“But I didn’t even feel cold?” Peter was confused because he knows his spider DNA makes him unable to thermoregulate properly but on his walk back from school he felt normal, not cold at all!

Which… was not normal, dammit! How had he not realised something was wrong when he didn’t feel cold. In January. In New York. With snow on the ground!

“We’ll definitely have to run some tests for that, but chances are since your body was preparing to hibernate, it’s probable that your brain stopped processing external stimuli.”

“Huh yeah, I guess I didn’t really notice much but my vision was going all wonky," he paused for moment, scrunching up his nose absentmindedly, "but um anyway I guess I’ll leave now then and we can- tomorrow we’ll uh yeah but uh thank you for taking care of me.”

Mr. Stark looked like he was about to protest as he made to get up - or try to get up, because honestly, he didn’t think he could stand up properly yet, still feeling weak but he’ll cross that bridge when he got to it, so like 10 seconds from now - but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked back to see Pepper awake and looking over at him concerned.

Suddenly he was being pulled back into a hug, which he immediately melted into because that’s the feeling Pepper brought, contentment. Comfort.

What surprised him is that Mr. Stark joined in, hugging them both so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe.

Pulling back, Peter saw both their faces and, clearly, how they found him must have looked much scarier than Mr. Stark described because both of them look shaken, scared, with so much love and worry in their eyes that Peter dove back in for another hug, and started to cry.

He had been so so scared on that couch, unable to do anything, feeling almost as if he was about to go to sleep and never wake up. So yeah, he took the comfort that his family was so ready to provide.

He didn’t object when Mr. Stark laid back and pulled him in to lay his head on his chest, nor when Pepper started running her hand through his hair.

He wriggled his toes a couple times to make sure he still could, only kinda scared of freezing up again, but he knew no matter what happened he would be okay because he was with two of the three people he loved most in the world. He let himself relax into their touch, knowing he’s safe here and fell asleep.

[omgjasminesimone]

Graduation Dinner

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Author’s Note: Set in the not too distant future. My first Colt X MC piece! I can’t really decide between him and Logan. It’s so hard.

Word Count: 1853

…

..

.

“Here.” Colt hands over the slightly burned popcorn to Ellie as he takes a spot beside her on the couch in his newly leased apartment.

Ellie looks at the popcorn distastefully as Colt slings an arm around her shoulder. “You burnt it.”

He grabs a handful and tosses it into his mouth. “I like It burnt.” He retorts.

“Or you don’t know how to use the microwave.” She hands the bowl back to him and snuggles closer, placing a kiss to his neck.

“Well, it is a new microwave. Unfortunately, the one I was used to burnt down with the Auto Shop that had been in my family for generations.” That came out more bitter than he wanted it to.

She simply squeezes him comfortingly and doesn’t try to force him to talk about it. Her attention returns to the horror movie playing on the flat screen tv in front of them.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to invite you to my graduation dinner.” Ellie replies after they’ve watched in silence for a few moments.

“I’m not invited to your graduation ceremony?”

Ellie scoffs. “You would be bored out of your mind.”

Colt doesn’t try to argue with that. “Who’s going to dinner?”

“It’s small. My Dad. Riya. You, if you want.” Ellie explains.

He chews more popcorn as he thinks on the invitation. “Riya hates me.”

“Hate is a strong word. She was solidly Team Logan, but she just knows him better. You’ll grow on her.” Ellie assures.

“Your Dad probably doesn’t like me much either.” Colt hypothesizes.

“He hasn’t even met you.” Ellie retorts.

He shoots her a look. “I’m sure he’s heard enough about me to have some preconceived feelings.”

Ellie sighs, conceding the truth behind that statement. “Well, I like you.” She places a chaste kiss on his lips, which taste of butter from the popcorn. “I’d really like it if you came.”

“You really think this is a good idea?” Colt asks

“How bad could it go?” Ellie asks rhetorically.

…

..

.

Ellie looks around the tense and awkward table. This was going worse than she expected.

Colt picks at his blue tie uncomfortably, trying to avoid the glares Ellie’s father keeps sending him. Ellie sighs. Maybe she should have lied and said she didn’t meet Colt through the whole Mercy Park Crew fiasco. But it wasn’t like she told her dad about Colt’s current plans to take down the Brotherhood or anything, so he could lay off a little.

She places a comforting hand on Colt’s knee under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He stops fidgeting for a moment, looking at her gratefully.

Usually Riya could be counted on to fill awkward silences, but her best friend had been uncharacteristically glum all day. Darius had ignored her at graduation and she seemed to be taking it hard.

Fine, then she’ll get everyone talking. “I think I found a research assistantship for when I start at Langston.”

Her father smiles at her from across the table. “That’s great sweetheart. What will you be doing?”

Ellie smiles, tucking her dirty blonde hair behind her ear as she removes her graduation robe and drapes it over her chair. “Hopefully working in a chemistry lab, mixing experimental medical drugs.”

“You could start a very lucrative illegal drug hustle on the side.” Colt jokes. Normally, Ellie would have laughed, but she knows her Dad will not be amused. She kicks Colt’s shin lightly under the table, removing her hand from his knee.

He shoots her an annoyed look, his shin throbbing slightly.

“So, Colt.” Ellie’s father begins. Colt looks away from Ellie and to her father, meeting his challenging gaze. “Ellie tells me you’re minoring in criminology in college.”

Colt smirks. Of course, that’s what she’d tell him. “Maybe. I’ve taken a couple of the classes. Haven’t declared anything yet though.”

“What made you interested in criminology? Interested in becoming a cop?” He asks.

Colt scoffs. “Hardly. I was interested in learning how to be a more effective criminal.”

“He’s joking. Colt’s sense of humor takes some getting used to.” Ellie interrupts, shooting him another ‘please behave’ look.

He shoots her back a look that clearly says, ‘I told you this was a bad idea’.

Her dad frowns, and the table falls into another uncomfortable silence. Ellie picks at her pasta unenthusiastically, debating if she should pretend that she’s sick and put an end to this. She feels her phone vibrate in the pocket of her white dress. It’s a text from Darius. He feels bad about how things went down with Riya and wants to at least part as friends.

She texts back that she’s glad that’s how he feels, mentioning how miserable Riya has been all day.

He quickly replies that he’s outside, can she trick Riya into coming out to talk? And stick around for some moral support?

Ellie worriedly looks at her father and Colt, both picking at their food and refusing to look at the other. But she loves Riya and Darius, and she’s not going to let them end things this way. Mind made up, she pushes back from the table and stands. “Riya, can you come with me for a second? I just remembered I need to put more money in the parking meter.”

Riya looks puzzled at why she’d want her to come along but nods anyway and gets up.

“Ellie,” Colt says. She looks at him. He mouths, ‘You’re not seriously leaving me alone with him?’

She rolls her eyes, ignoring him and leaving with Riya.

…

..

.

“Well, now that we’re alone, we can really talk.” Ellie’s Dad says as soon as she and Riya are out of earshot.

Colt perks up at that. Finally. No more dancing around his true feelings in an attempt to not upset his daughter. “What do you want to talk about?”

Ellie’s dad leans back in his seat. “You. I don’t know much about you. Besides your affiliation with the Mercy Park Crew. Are you planning to continue to be involved in gang activity? Are you going back to college?”

Honestly, Colt isn’t sure. He knows he can’t go back to college until he’s taken down the Brotherhood and avenged his father. But will he go back after that? He never really felt like he was where he was supposed to be in college. He felt like he was just going through the motions. He’s felt more like himself than ever these last few months, planning kidnappings and murders. But that’s obviously not something you tell your girlfriend’s disapproving father. “I can’t predict the future.” He finally settles on.

Ellie’s father’s gaze becomes very stern. “What are your intentions with my daughter? I know you sought her out because of her connection to me and how it could help your crew, but the crew’s gone now. Why haven’t you left her alone.”

“I didn’t seek her out. You have Logan to thank for that.” Colt counters He neglects to mention Logan acted on his late father’s orders.

“I just don’t get it. I know she’s going through some kind of rebellious phase, but what do you two even have in common? Why is she putting her whole future in jeopardy to hang out with some criminal?”

“Honestly? The main thing we have in common is Daddy issues. So, thanks for driving her right into my arms.” Colt retaliates.

Ellie’s dad’s eyes narrow. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“What is it going to take? To get you to leave her alone so she can move past all this?”

Colt glares. “Are you offering to pay me to go away?”

Ellie’s dad nods.

Colt scoffs. “For your information, I’ve just come into a tidy sum of money from my Dad’s fire insurance policy, so you can’t afford to buy me off.”

“If you really cared about her, you would do what’s best for her. Let her go.”

Colt’s eyes narrow. “If you really cared about her, you would respect her right to make her own decisions.”

Ellie’s dad shakes his head. “You mean I should let her make her own mistakes.”

Colt bristles at being called a mistake. Who did this asshole think he was? “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.” He stands, throwing a $20 down on the table for his meal. “Let’s not do this again Mr. Wheeler.”

“Finally, something we agree on.” Mr. Wheeler responds as Colt turns on his heel and storms out of the Italian restaurant.  

…

..

.

Colt stalks out of the restaurant, allowing the door to slam behind him. On the curve, he sees Riya and Darius hugging, Ellie looking on with a smile. The smile drops when she catches sight of his expression. He turns away from her and heads for his bike.

“Colt wait!” Ellie jobs to catch up to him, struggling in her heels. She almost trips, but he notices out of the corner of his eye and catches her reflexively. “Thanks” She mutters as he helps her to her feet. His arms stay around her waist. She rests her hands on his pressed white dress shirt. “Where are you going?”

“Home. This was a bad idea Ellie. I’m not the guy you bring home to your father. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not.”

“Who’s asking you to pretend to be anything?”

“You are. You should have known how this would go.”

Ellie glares and steps out of his embrace. “I thought you two could put aside your differences for me, but I guess not.”

Colt sighs, reaching out for her hand. She allows him to pull her back to him, and he hugs her and rests his chin on her head. “You mean a lot to me Ellie. But I can’t go back in there. Things have already derailed too much.”

She looks up at him. “What did my Dad say to you?”

Colt shakes his head. “You know, the usual. Offered to pay me to stay away from you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen before narrowing in anger. “He what?”

“Don’t be mad at him. That’s the typical cop dad whose daughter is dating a criminal reaction. He’s looking out for you.” He places a soft kiss on her forehead.

Ellie sighs “He needs to let me make my own decisions. You really won’t come back in?”

“Nah, I might be too tempted to take him up on his offer. I could use a new bike.” Colt jokes.

Ellie laughs and swats at his chest. “And here I thought I was priceless.” She pulls away from him. “Well, I guess I’ll go back in there and give him a piece of my mind. Can I stop by your place after I drop Riya off?” Ellie asks.

“You’re always welcome. In fact,” He pulls a key from his pocket. “I got you a key.”

Ellie beams at him and kisses him passionately. Colt smirks against her lips when he thinks about how much her father won’t like this new development in their relationship.

…

..

.

[mellz117]

Hi! I’m Mellz and I’m starting up Kingdom Hearts 2 on the PlayStation 2! 

Just below are links to the first parts of my previous Kingdom Hearts plays.

[ KH1 ] _ [ Re:CoM Sora ] _ [ KH Re:CoM Riku ]

It’s been a hot minute, like 3,155,763 smoldering hot minutes, which would be 6 years including leap years. Yeah it was 01/27/2014 last I touched this game, exactly 6 years ago to this day (01/27/2020) as of me starting up again. This was an accident.

Guide thingy: Things like long gaps between commentary and days will be separated by a line of dots like that ->  ……

Text relating to an image posted will have a blockquote either above and/or below the image

Dialogue exchanges will also be separated by a blockquote

Ok I'm playing on standard difficulty, if I'm having a hard time, then I just suck. If you’re reading this and haven’t experienced KH2 for yourself, why are you here? Go away, there’s spoilers for things that aren’t revealed until later.

SO LET’S JUST JUMP INTO IT

……………………………………………………………………………………………

I always liked this fancy CGI opening. There’s a lot of things I missed last I saw it.

IT’S HIM. Look how cute he is! 

So we start off with a recap of Kingdom Hearts via a dream it seems and our protagonist, my precious boy Roxas, wakes up his own home all alone because apparently DiZ didn't create a digital family for him. But KH is notorious for forgetting parents, so maybe they did. I’m not Cinema Sins so I wont ping this game for not giving Roxas fake parents lmao

In the next scene Roxas is more interested in his own hands than he is in his friends' conversation. 

blurry ring textures, blurry checker pattern. Not everything holds up well on a flat screen TV

He hasn't been paying attention so he's just as confused as the player is at this point when he finally takes his attention off his hands.

This dialogue is so early 2000's. KH1 and CoM avoided this but with the urban setting of Twilight Town it's DEFINITELY noticeable and outdated. So rumors have spread about Roxas, Hayner, Pence, and Olette that photographs are being stolen, and THEY'RE the theives. Who is the operator of the rumor mill? Seifer and his posse. Also the actual WORD is gone too, they try to say “photo” but it just DOESN’T EXIST. This is where the game gets a bit odd.

TUTORIALS GALORE. I JUST WANT TO PAUSE AND CHANGE THE CAMERA CONTROLS STOP TELLING ME ABOUT MY NEXT OBJECTIVE but no no it’s telling me how to lock on, control my camera, context sensitive buttons, etc 

This girl’s dress looks like shes wearing a bra over it 

I like how the animal AI hasn't changed at all in this entire series. And by like I mean hate, KH3 doesn't change that. Sven is as boring as this cat we have to look at.

The gang heads to the sandlot where Seifer, Fuujn, Raijin, and Vivi like to hang out I guess? Vivi is a little, solid black, wizard dwarf amongst all these regular humans and no one bats an eye. This shit is normal. Seifer with his stupid Seto Kaiba jacket, shows up to further accuse Roxas and his friends of stealing photos, one specifically of Roxas flat on his face and Seifer standing triumphantly over him (which we’re actually shown later). "That was undeniable proof that we totally owned you lamers" he says in regards to it and challenges Roxas to a rematch.

A+ dialogue

Seifer. My dude, ya dumb-dumb. If you think for one second that I'm gonna let my boy lose to you, you are sorely mistaken. 

“If you get on your knees and beg, maybe I’ll let it slide.” Seifer says and Roxas plays it slick, taking a knee and looking through a convenient selection of foam weapons. Battle ensues.

So of course I win because Seifer is a pleb, and Pence takes a commemorative ______ of Roxas's sound victory, but oh no! Something stole the camera right out of Pence's hands! Roxas gives chase, because apparently he's the only one who cares enough to do so, and confronts the actual thief, a Dusk type Nobody. Roxas is taking this creature encounter rather calmly. Like mild confusion at most.

I hate these things, they're creepy. When you do a reversal on them they like, plant their hands on the ground behind them and their legs wrap around their arms while they spaz out. Ughghdhahh

Of course Roxas's foam bat doesnt cause any damage to the Dusk, and suddenly a familiar giant key digitally manifests in his hands. DiZ is installing mods I see. I have a Keyblade mod in Skyrim, so we have something in common.

After we defeat the thief the next scene shows the gang at the usual spot with the recovered photos. Ok ok so was "photo" the only word deleted from the vocabulary or were any other alternative words taken away too? Like, if they could have said "picture" this whole time, they would have had much less stupid sounding dialogue exchanges. Whatever lmao.

“Tell us about the picture thief.”

“Not much to say. The pictures were just lying there.”

You liar. Tell them about how you fought a wormy, white boy.

Pence notices all the pics are of Roxas and speculates the picture thief wanted to take the REAL Roxas and Hayner is like

The best friendships are ones where you can take jabs at each other and know there’s no malice intended.

 In the scene thereafter, the kids go their separate ways, the evening(?) sun assaults Roxas's eyes, and whenever he closes them he gets another vision? Idk what time of day it is it always looks the same.

God ok as someone who hadn’t played CoM before playing KH2 for the first time, I must have been SUPER lost regarding who DiZ and Namine were and why Sora is in the pod. More recaps of KH1: I don’t know why they found it necessary to redub over the old voices with the new actors in these flashbacks.

Moving on. Roxas learns what the Keyblade is through his dreams. On his way to meet up with his friends, he tries summoning the Keyblade with a stick, when that doesn’t work he carelessly throws it aside and it hits this cloak clad man behind him. This dude is either completely unfazed by that is or so offended he can’t even say anything and walks away before he goes all Karen on Roxas’s ass.

We’re back at the usual spot and summer vacation is nearing it’s end. Hayner wants to go to the beach before school is back in session! You poor fuckers...

Same, dude. I’m waiting on my tax returns, looking forward to that.

SKATEBOARD

“TO DEFEAT THE HUNSSSSSSS!”

Pretzels at the beach? Salty and not refreshing. I got you fam, I’ll make enough money for a watermelon. Roxas is so poor omg... How much is 150 Munny in American currency?

Just BEAT the cargo with a foam bat. What’s IN the bag? Is it trash? Clothes? Is it potentially breakable? Next. Time to beat some bees!

So Poster Duty was my go-to job in this game in the past because you could get 100 Munny if you did well. But now that I’m older I realized how annoying it is. I had an efficient route planned out, hit as many of the 3 poster placements in that route, and be over and done with that in about 1:10....

But then Roxas goes aND DOES THIS!

FUCKING SKIPS THE ONE DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIM, DEFYING GRAVITY IN FAVOR OF THE POSTS BELOW

HE DOES THIS CONSISTENTLY!! I do have a live reaction to this but it’s too big for tumblr. I’ll have it up on youtube one of these days

Eventually I stopped sticking posters to walls and became a mailman until the game made me stop.

Black-clad man is back with his own stick! Oof, Roxas eats the pavement and is manhandled by cloaky boy. WAS THIS ROUGH TREATMENT REALLY THAT NECESSARY? You might wanna treat Sora's Nobody with a little more respect. AND YOU STOLE HIS HARD-EARNED MONEY! YOU BASTARD!

The gang is on the clock tower, very dangerously high up. Wtf what if someone falls?! Roxas feels so guilty about what happened and Hayner gets over this little fiasco pretty quickly and the next day he already has another fun plan.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

On his way to the station, Roxas crosses paths with Pence and Olette, the latter two freeze and Roxas meets Namine. Is her interest in Roxas linked to her desire to be Sora’s friend? A strange girl tells Roxas she wanted to meet him “at least once” and he doesn’t know what to do lol. Namine doesn’t stay long, leaving Roxas with his confusion. What is going through his head? A girl he doesn’t know seems to know him well enough to want to see him. Pence and Olette unfreeze after Namine is out of the shot. Pence and Olette have such a cute relationship, I’d love for them to be siblings. Pence goes shopping with her even if he might not want to. I can relate, I hate clothes shopping.

These Dusks don’t seem like too much of a threat tbh, they just kinda swagger slowly towards Roxas and grab his hand. Roxas hardly struggles to escape to the sandlot.

Chicken wuss

WE FINALLY GET SOMEWEHERE, we end up on the stained glass pillars in the Station of Serenity (?). Time to grind for like 5 minutes because this giant noodle boy already killed me once.

This thing really unsettles me. All the creature Nobodies do! They’re all twitchy and stretchy. DISGUSTING

DAMN THAT IS A HIGH FALL HOW DO YOU SURVIVE THAT?!

Upon defeat, this big noodle boy falls on top of Roxas and Namine saves him from being enveloped by darkness.

Namine really seems to like to silence him. First she shoves her hand in his face but that was too forward. This time she daintily places a finger over her lips and says her part. Black-cloak guy shows up, rough handles Namine a little bit but not as roughly as he did Roxas. AND SHOVES ROXAS INTO A PORTAL

SEIFER IS AN OPPORTUNISTIC SHITLET POSING IN FRONT OF HIS UNCONSIOUS BODY. Bitch you didn’t earn that. Hayner, Pence, and Olette see Roxas with Seifer’s gang, Hayner feels betrayed thinking Roxas ghosted him in favor of Seifer. He stays pretty salty about it for a good while

IM NOT WORKING ON THIS LIKE I SHOULD. ITS ALMOST A MONTH SINCE STARTING. In my next post we'll be "Struggling" to progress. Eh? Eh? Get it? Like the tournament?

I'm not funny.

Here’s the next part: [ _2_ ]

Below is a compilation of my live reactions and comments throughout this point of the game.

[ligufari-blog]

What You Should Know About USA and Why

https://sv.ivisa.com/esta-visa-usa

Lies You've Been Told About USA

After the statistics are analyzed the organization in question may decide to modify policies or create new ones to stimulate economic growth in the event the objectives have yet to be achieved.  The very last thing you'll want to take into account is how much energy your freezer will utilize.  1 need only examine the fiasco that's Iraq and comment on the comprehensive absence of foresight regarding the crucial elements to unite a nation divided by numerous warring factions.

Since you will see, the range of choices and opportunities to get American are almost overwhelming, based on what it is you're ready to pay, how hard you are ready to look, and if you are ready to await your furniture to be manufactured and shipped to you.  You're able to then make an application for residence considerably more easily.  If you are in possession of a massive set of belongings it is preferable to elect for dedicated transportation.

There's an inheritance tax.  In the majority of the instances, business owners need specialist support by using their hiring strategies.  Work If you would like to obtain work in Canada, you'll want to guarantee the position before you try to apply for a work visa, whether you need a temporary or permanent visa. The Pain of USA

Not one of the other forward options appear prepared to be a comparable replacement for him, so he'll want to remain healthy if the U.S. attack will be effective in Copa America.  Increasingly, more consumers are interested in finding TVs made in the united states, including all the expected features like flat-panels, LED, LCD, and massive screens.  The need to eliminate money from politics has become more and more apparent.

Business in case you have a thriving business in the usa, you may want to try expanding it across the border.  Almost one million apostilles are processed annually in the united states alone.  To make certain your mail arrives at the proper destination, you will need to use the appropriate United States post office abbreviations. Details of USA

A minumum of one question in every section has to be answered and one essay has to be written to make a score.  Although email has made the job of communicating with family and friends a lot easier, there continue to be many occasions where you'll need to send a letter the old-fashioned way.  Some have their very own on-line newsletters and meeting place too.

By writing each day, students will likewise be able to boost their accuracy of writing.  Four states utilize the expression commonwealth as opposed to state in their entire official names.  Possessing a printable alphabetized collection of states can be helpful for a variety of projects and is something folks are often seeking when they are looking for these lists. Ruthless USA Strategies Exploited

Your objective is to learn how to observe the ocean within the drop.  Aside from handbags, there are different items offered in the outlet.  There are limits on the number of bags of the exact style you can purchase. USA Fundamentals Explained

An attorney who's prepared to support our project and will give all third-party support.  There's little useful info on the Universal Furniture site. Once finished, you may add any custom made text required to the list. Finding the Best USA

Beginning in 2020, it is going to be held the identical year as similar tournaments like the UEFA Championship.  Inside this game, there were nine players in every single team.  Like, you've got to comprehend when you place a team together enjoy that, you've got to have some role players.

Once you're accepted into a school or university to study, you are able to then make an application for a short-term visa.  The city is famous for its diverse financial climate.  Well, you've certainly come to the proper place.

[artificialqueens]

Twist Of Fate - Ch06 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: Thank you for reading and leaving comments, everyone! I’m excited to have as many of you on board.

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo. Comments are welcome and encouraged!

When Katya asked the universe to make her life more interesting, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

She remembers a quote from Sharon’s self-help book she read after they broke up, which said something about people not being able to control their destiny but being able to influence how they react to it. It is the only thing that stuck from that book, considering she threw it out with the rest of things her ex-girlfriend left behind.

Controlling how she reacts to the fiasco that was the party is exactly what she does now, deciding not to spend her entire Sunday wallowing in just how pathetic her love life is, and focus on the other love of her life – photography. She put several assignments on hold because she was too focused on Trixie and they now waited for her on the coffee table when she stumbled out of her bed and into the living room sometimes after 9 a.m., having gotten barely five hours of sleep.

It didn’t help that several text messages greeted her as soon as she opened her eyes and squinted at her phone, two from Violet who messaged her when she arrived home, one from her photography teacher reminding her of Facebook and Instagram pages she has yet to finish, and four from Trixie.

Unknown: Hey, Violet told me you left because you weren’t feeling well :(

Unknown: Adore said she saw you outside after the set, I’m sorry I missed you

Unknown: I hope you’re feeling better today, thank you for coming. :) :) :)  

Unknown: :* :* :* Talk soon. -Trix

Katya realized that she hadn’t saved Trixie’s number the night before, and decided it was best not to do it that morning, since there was no reason for it, really. Once she decides to get a haircut, she will just contact Latrice through Facebook, like she always does.

She doesn’t reply to the message, either, deciding it’s for the best not to look at her phone for at least couple of hours and focus on her work, even a bit proud of herself for not checking instagram that showed nothing short of 25 notifications. She’d deal with that eventually.

Hours later, the papers and print-outs are scattered everywhere around the coffee table, in front of the TV, and are everywhere around her on the couch and under her laptop. The ashtray is filled with half-smoked and stubbed out cigarettes, but the heavy weight in her stomach is lighter. If anything, Katya could always count on her work to make her feel better, busier, distracted from everything else that might be going to shit at the moment. She works better under pressure too, and she is finishing up her last assignment just as her phone rings, discarded and forgotten somewhere on the other side of the room.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Katya laughs once she picks up the phone, seeing that it’s little past three, and realizing she hasn’t had a single thing since last night.

A groan from the other side that sounds just a little bit like Violet greets her back.

“Did you really stay out until 8 am, you crazy bitch? How are you even alive right now?”

“You’re too loud, Katya. Tone it down.”

The exasperation in Violet’s voice makes her laugh and she reaches for another cigarette, figuring it’s better to smoke this one by the window, desperate for some fresh air now that she is finally aware of her surroundings.

“How’s your head, Vi?”

“Let’s just say I want to murder whoever invented vodka, and wine, and made me mix them both.”

“That’s a lot of people to kill.”

“I’m determined, bitch. What are you doing right now?”

“Just finished work.”

“Do you want to go do some yoga, grab some food after? I’m bored and in pain.”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“You’re a saint. See you soon.”

Katya is grateful Violet doesn’t mention Trixie or Pearl throughout the afternoon, though she does look at her from the corner of her eye when she thinks Katya isn’t paying attention. Violet isn’t usually a person who doesn’t talk things through, at least with her, so she assumes it’s mostly because Vi is too hungover and struggling with yoga poses to be talking about anything emotionally draining. Katya is grateful, even when Violet doesn’t bring up the night before aside from how all the girls from the model agency just went to Fame’s apartment and continued drinking. How any of them manage to look stunning after those kinds of nights, Katya has no idea. For her, one longer night out means looking like a rotting corpse for two weeks afterward. Must be the genes and nothing to do with the fact inhales more smoke than factory workers back in the day, she thinks.

“I’m proud of you, you didn’t sulk a lot today.”

They are sitting in Katya’s car, in the parking lot of Violet’s apartment building, after the sun has already set and it’s incredibly humid despite the absence of the rainfall for the first time that week.

“What are you talking about? I’m not sulking. I don’t sulk.”

The look that Violet gives her makes her burst out laughing.

“What! I don’t sulk!”

“Did she text you after last night?”

“Who?”

“My aunt from Brussels, you know who. Trixie.”

Katya really doesn’t want to be talking about this right now, but figures it’s easier to just get it out of the way in hopes of Violet finally letting it go if she’s convincing enough.

“Yep. She thanked me for coming to the party.”

“Wow. Did you reply?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What would I say? You’re welcome, thank you for letting me flirt and making a complete fool out of myself when your girlfriend was just right there and you didn’t even think to mention her to me in all this time since you came back from Europe?”

Her mouth is running before she can stop it and Violet just looks at her solemnly, like she has been expecting the outburst the entire day. Katya sometimes hates how easily she can read her.

“I was right. You do like her. What are you gonna do about it?”

It’s Katya’s turn to give a look.

“What am I gonna do? Nothing! She has a famous, gorgeous girlfriend who makes her happy. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Oh there are a lot of things to do—“

“Just leave it be, Vi. If Trixie is happy, I’m happy for her.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Whatever it is, I’m over it. It’s a crush, it will go away. It’s not like I’ll see either of them that often. Okay? Just leave it be.”

“… Fine. I’ll be here if you need to talk about it.”

“Thanks.”

.

.

.

Katya’s phone rings early next morning, startling her awake, and she nearly falls off the bed in a hurry, scrambling for her glasses and her phone. One look at the screen and she sees it’s barely eight and an unknown number is calling her. She clears her throat, finds that it’s hurting, and promises herself not to go through two packets of smokes like she did yesterday.

The call turns out to be from Michelle Visage, one of the managers of Violet’s agency, who got her number from Violet and is asking her to come in around eight the following day. She has a job she wants to discuss with her, if Katya has enough time in her schedule. Katya accepts without a second thought since she has absolutely no photography jobs in sight in the following three weeks.

The fact that she gets to work again with an agency like Michelle’s and models like Fame, Shea and Naomi keeps her in high spirits all day, good mood that not even an instagram story Trixie posted can diminish.

Not as much as one would expect, at least. The story includes a series of photos of Trixie and Pearl spending the Monday afternoon in the park, taken by Pearl. They show Trixie smelling flowers, Trixie holding flowers that Pearl had gotten for her, and a selfie of the two of them, Pearl’s long, blonde hair falling down Trixie’s front since she has leaned her head on Trixie’s shoulder, with a reunited hashtag.

With unease, annoyance and excitement in tow, it’s a wonder she can fall asleep early that night and wake up even an hour before her alarm goes off the next morning.

.

.

.

Michelle greets her in her office at nine a.m. sharp, and Katya is a little shaky after having two coffees in the past three hours, but her grin is wide and her camera bag is ready.

“Thank you for coming in, Katya, I know it was on short notice.”

“No no, don’t worry about it, I’m glad you called!”

Michelle smiles warmly at her, and Katya remembers Violet telling her how motherly and protective she is of all of her girls, and that she is one of the main reasons most of them are still in Boston and not relocating to L.A. or New York yet.

“I know you did a great job with Fame and Violet some time back, and they all love working for you, so I thought you’d be a perfect fit for this. I’ve been wanting to organize something for this charity organization that involves LGBTQ+ and minorities, and what better way to do that than use our girls’ talents - and yours – to do that.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. I’ve even gotten a well-known name on board, so it should be nothing short of a success.”

“Yeah, of course. Are you sure you don’t want someone with more experience to work on that, though?”

Katya laughs at her own self-deprecating words to show that she’s joking, though in truth she is very flattered.

“I can find any pro photographer to work with models of this caliber, but this is a charity thing we’re doing today and I’d rather have someone I trust with us. You will be compensated, of course. Are you in?”

“Hell yes I’m in! Who’s the celebrity?”

Michelle smiles wider and stands up, Katya following immediately.

“You’ve probably heard of her, she’s pretty famous around here, or so I hear from the girls. Pearl Liaison?”

When Katya asked the universe to make her life more exciting, this definitely wasn’t what she had in mind.

“Yeah, I’m – familiar with her music.”

“Great! Pearl’s here today, you ladies should meet and maybe have some trial shots before the real thing?”

“Of course. No problem.”

“Awesome! Let’s go find her.”

When Katya sees Pearl standing in the studio, leaned on the wall and flipping through her phone casually, some of the bitterness from Saturday night returns. Yet she can’t deny, regardless of the irrational jealousy, that Pearl is fucking beautiful. Today her long, straight blonde hair falls down to her elbow, swept over one shoulder, and her dress is long and flowy, hugging her lanky body just right and showing off her tatted, toned arms. If not for the entire situation with Trixie, Katya would have understood Violet wanting to fuck her, but now it just makes her all the more miserable.

Pearl barely needs any makeup to look flawless, her skin basically glowing under the bright lights of the room. When Michelle calls for her, she looks up, and Katya finds that her eyes are as blue as the ocean around one of those exotic islands and groans internally.

“Pearl! I’d like you to meet our photographer I told you about, Katya. She’s worked with my girls before and she’s amazing. Katya, this is Pearl.”

When Pearl shakes her hand and smiles, Katya can’t help but wonder if Trixie ever mentioned her to her girlfriend at all. And if she did – it seemed like Pearl did not connect the dots between that Katya and the one standing in front of her now. The DJ has a smile that reaches her eyes, and softens her look even further.

“Nice to meet you, Katya. I didn’t know your photographers looked like models too, Michelle.”

Her voice is low, dragged out a little bit as if she’s exhausted, matching the semi-sleepy look her hooded eyes give, but Katya soon realizes it’s just the way Pearl looks (and talks). She’s a sweet-talker too, and all around a nice woman without zero arrogance about her, despite her popularity.

It would be a lie if Katya said she didn’t hope she was a complete bitch, and if she said she wasn’t a least a bit disappointed finding that Pearl is a delight to work with and talk to. No fucking wonder Trixie is in love with her, Katya realizes with another twist in her gut.

Michelle goes back to her office shortly after, and Katya fears the moment since the only things worse than this situation would be if it was made awkward. It doesn’t happen, no matter how much she dreads it, and Pearl carries the conversation easily even though she’s a little bit on the quiet side. The two of them agree to test several poses before bringing in the rest of the girls next time, and discuss what exactly they want these photos to be. To no one’s surprise, Pearl has experience with photo shoots, even knows a little bit about photography, and Katya rarely finds herself having to explain and justify her own ideas.

Unexpectedly, it’s a good couple of hours.

When both of them decide it’s enough for the day, Katya connects her camera to the nearby laptop and flips through the photos so Pearl can take a look at them.

“I’ve had some issues with getting the lighting to work in some of these, but once they’re edited they will look a lot better. I do it all the time.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean with that one. Either way, these are amazing, Katya. You’re a total pro.”

Katya looks up from the screen to see Pearl standing right next to her and notices slight freckles spilled over her shoulders. She tries not to think about Trixie kissing them, and fails just a little.

“Thanks. I still have a fuckton to learn but you definitely made it easy.”

“I know, I’m flawless.” Pearl says slowly, flipping her hair backward. The semi-joking tone in her voice reminds her so much of Violet that Katya can’t help but laugh. “I have to say, I was a little skeptical when Michelle told me you were a freelancer but you totally proved me wrong.”

Despite herself, Katya feels the heat rise to her cheeks. Truthfully, she will never be beyond blushing over people praising her work, at least people who are not her close friends or, god forbid, her parents.

“Thank you, really! I’m positive this is going to look great with the girls in the shot.”

“Same. Listen, I have to go now, but we’ll be in touch. When do you think you’ll have these edited?”

“End of this week, Monday the latest. Michelle said props won’t be here until next Friday, anyway, so we can get together any time before that for a test shoot.”

“Sounds good to me. Here, I’ll give you my email and you send them to me as soon as they’re done, is that okay?”

“Absolutely!”

.

.

.

The rest of the week passes in a blur. It does not take her long to edit the photos she’s shot with Pearl, but it takes her embarrassingly long to stare at them, finding more faults in editing the longer she looks, until Ginger snaps her laptop shut and makes her come eat dinner with her and her son Matty on Friday. Katya feels guilty for not telling her other best friend anything about Trixie or the entire situation with Pearl, but she doesn’t want to make herself think about it longer than needed. Violet has been a pain in the ass enough as soon as she found out that Pearl is the one doing the calendar with them, and that is mostly the reason Katya has avoided her for the majority of the week. Ginger tells her that she’s proud of her, encourages her not to overthink her work, and that is enough for Katya to feel better.

The weekend passes equally as fast, all with Katya making a new schedule for the following three months for her yoga classes, cutting out one day a week since she’s already received several photography gig offers after Pearl put up one of the spontaneous shots Katya took of her with the following caption:

pearliaison: What happens when your photographer makes even candids look pro! Got the chance to work with the talented @katya_zamo! More to come soon.

Katya, on the other hand, wonders how Pearl found her instagram, and certainly does not want to think about how Trixie now knows the two of them are working together. Maybe that’s why Trixie hasn’t reached out since that Sunday a week ago, aside from looking through her instagram stories and leaving multiple hearts on the photo Katya took of Pearl.

Katya also goes out of her way not to pass by Honey, even though it’s on the way from the yoga studio to the agency, and takes the long way around for fear of spotting Trixie. Since that day of the park story entries, Trixie did not update any of her social media, and Katya finds that she misses her already, but tries not to think about it. If she has to work with Pearl, fine, but the idea of seeing Trixie alone or with Pearl creates discomfort still, so it’s better to stay away until the crush passes, if it does at all.

The test group shoot with the girls is set for the following Wednesday, a week after Katya and Pearl met, and by the time Wednesday rolls around Katya is determined to stop thinking about her hairdresser altogether.

When she walks into the agency on Wednesday morning and sees Adore in the studio with the rest of the girls, she knows it’s never going to happen.

“Katyaaaa!” Adore’s voice is enough for everyone to look her way and she hugs Katya so tightly that it knocks her out of breath for a moment, but Katya hugs back, ignoring the fact that almost everyone who’s involved with the entire Trixie thing is in this very room, except for Trixie herself.

“Hey mama, I had no idea you were involved with the project!” She replies once they pull away and Adore nods, a comb still in her hand.

“Yeah, yeah! Shea got Brianna and me on board, and since it’s for charity and young gay people, I said fuck yes! I missed you girl, where have you been?! I looked for you that night to introduce Bianca to you but you were gone!”

Katya realizes that she’s missed Adore as much as the rest of her friends, and laughs.

“Yep, sorry I went off the radar; I’ve been working myself to death to get everything ready for this.”

“Pearlie showed us some of the shots, they look a-mazing. You should come and see some ideas Bri and I have for the hair and make-up and tell us what you think!”

She wants to ask why Trixie isn’t working on the project but can’t, not within Pearl’s earshot. Naomi, Shea, Fame and Courtney are all there and take turns in hugging her. When Pearl does too, Katya tries to return it with equal enthusiasm, though she can swear she can see Adore looking at them with a raised eyebrow before returning her attention to Courtney’s hair.

Violet is fifteen minutes late, blaming the traffic, giving Katya a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then wraps Pearl in a one-arm hug too. Katya remembers that Violet did try to seduce Pearl that night, but never really told her what went down before Trixie appeared, and makes a mental note to ask her later.

If there is one thing Katya wants to do for the rest of her life, it’s definitely this. In the previous week, Michelle has decided that she wants to make a calendar, the proceedings of which will go to charity, figuring that would be the best way to sell as many copies as possible.

Katya has written down ideas and shared them with the group and received approval from Michelle. Each of them will have an entry of their own, and the remaining six would be group shots, wearing outfits according to the month they are in, and including multiple flags from the LGBTQ+ spectrum. The ultimate gaylendar of 2019, as Shea has called it.

The trial shoot takes up the majority of the day, with Adore and Brianna cutting in every now and then, fixing and changing hair, Katya running into the shots to show the poses she had in mind and Shea running out to take photos of her instead. Katya thinks that if she had to do this for a living for the rest of her life, she’d be the happiest woman alive.

Not even Pearl’s presence, otherwise a constant reminder of Trixie, could dampen her spirit, especially when she’s seen how well she blended into the group. She’s also found out that Pearl and Adore went to high school together, and have been friends most of their lives, and that Adore was the one who connected Pearl and Trixie when Pearl had a gig in Germany. Something about Adore being so good to Katya made her stomach that piece of information more easily, and she voluntarily drowned the jealous monster in her chest when it reared its ugly head at the mention of Trixie’s name.

By the time everyone is packed up and leaving hours later, Katya has a tension headache that still does not stop her from grinning widely. The main shooting event, taking place on Monday, would be a breeze.

“Kit Kat!” Adore’s voice makes her look up from her camera bag that she was digging through for her cigarettes when she got outside. Her glasses are resting on top of her messy hair, keeping it out of her face, and she can feel the sweat rolling down her back and neck, despite the evening breeze. Ginger called her the sweatiest woman in the show business once, and Katya thought it was the best description of her she’s ever heard.

Pearl is right behind Adore, her own bag slung over her shoulder and hands in her pockets.

“Looking for a smoke? Here, you can have mine.” Adore says once they get to Katya and offers the cigarette to Pearl too, who accepts. “I don’t know how you’re still not a world renown photographer man, you killed it today.”

Katya laughs, holding the cigarette between her teeth after Adore lights it up and shakes her head.

“What can I say? I’m a late bloomer.”

“Who knew?”

The two of them laugh, but Pearl is temporarily distracted by her phone, and Katya can’t help but question whether Trixie is the one texting her.

“In all seriousness, though, today’s the most fun I had in ages. All of you are so fucking talented, I was just trying to keep up.” Katya replies, exhaling the smoke.

“Oh shut up bitch, you’re amazing.”

“I agree.” It comes from Pearl, and she smiles over her cigarette at Katya.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” Katya replies, suddenly slipping on her Russian accent and making the other two laugh.

“Come on, you deserve it! And you should totally come to my housewarming party this weekend!”

“You’re having a housewarming party?”

“Girl, yeah! That’s why Bianca is here earlier than she should be, we moved in together last weekend.”

“That’s great, Adore, I’m happy for you! But I don’t even know Bianca, are you sure she wants strangers there?”

Adore snorts, inhaling more smoke than she should have and has a brief coughing fit before she can respond.

“Bitch, you’re like family to me by now, you need to come! Besides, all of the girls from the agency will be there too, and Bianca just met them at the party couple of weekends ago.”

Pearl nods along with everything that Adore is saying, but is still busy with her phone to speak. She’s much more silent now than she was the entire day, but Katya assumes it’s because she’s tired. Katya is so ready to go home, soak in the bathtub and pass out in front of the TV herself.

“Which reminds me, Pearlie, will Trixie be back from Wisconsin by the weekend? I know she’s returning to work Monday.”

“Trixie’s in Wisconsin?”

Katya’s response is so automatic that it flies out before she can think about it, and surely enough Pearl looks at her first before looking at Adore.

“Yeah, she’ll be back for the party. How do you know Trixie?”

Her pale eyes are back on Katya, and something about her gaze makes Katya uneasy, but she can’t exactly pinpoint why. She catches Adore looking from one to the other, then sees her bite her lip as if she’s pushing back an amused smile. Before Katya can overthink that split second, she replies.

“Oh she’s my hairdresser, well – used to be before she moved to Germany. She cut my hair only once she’s come back so…”

“That’s cool, I had no idea you two knew each other.”

Even though she wants to, Katya doesn’t relent under Pearl’s questioning gaze, and a second later it’s back to its old, sleepy-looking self, letting Katya’s anxiety settle. She thanks her foundation for doing its job (hopefully), and hiding the majority of the heat that climbed to her face. It feels like being caught in the act she knows is wrong, but the rational part of her brain knows she has nothing to feel guilty for.

“Anyway,” Adore says pointedly, throwing Pearl a look, “Trixie’s aunt died and she had to go to her funeral. I thought you knew girl, I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

Katya didn’t know. Come to think of it, Katya knows very little about Trixie’s life aside from things she’s told her, and the realization makes her feel like shit instantly. All the wishing she’d be Trixie’s friend for so long and she’s let her own emotions get in the way. Trixie has been going through a difficult time for the entire week, maybe even longer, and was kind enough to invite Katya to go to a party, went through all the trouble to get her on the club’s list, and Katya repaid her by not replying to her messages and ignoring her altogether. Now that is enough to dampen her spirits despite the great day she’s had.

“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t know who she apologizes to but she looks at Pearl and Pearl nods. “Is she okay?”

“She’s been better but you know, it’s Trixie. She’ll be okay.”

Katya nods and stubs out her cigarette, suddenly ready to go home. Immediately.

“So, are you coming?” Adore says after couple of moments, eyes looking hopeful enough for Katya to relent under the pressure.

“Oh, right! Yeah, sure, I’ll come. When was it again?”

“Here, gimme your number and I’ll text you the details as soon as we work it out.”

When Katya uses her last bath bomb, an old birthday present from Ginger (“You need to relax sometimes! Bath bombs are the best!”), Katya scrolls through Trixie’s instagram and Facebook that have not been updated in a while. She dips her head under the emerald water for a second, welcoming the cool feeling, and once she gets the residue from her eyes when she resurfaces, her hands find the phone again and open the messages.

Katya: Hey Trixie, Adore told me about your aunt. I’m sorry. If you need anything at all, please let me know.

Katya: I know you might be coming to her housewarming party. I’ll be there so see you then?

Katya: Take care.

Katya’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a couple of moments, before she types again.

Katya: PS, I’m sorry for going radio silent, it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

Katya: :*

The reply doesn’t come until later that night, when Katya is in bed and reading a book, not a self-help one, after wanting to disconnect from the internet a little. Ginger was right, taking a scented bath definitely helped her nerves.

Unknown: Hey Katie, thank you. :*

Unknown: Yeah, I’ll be there. See you and have a good night. <3

With a sigh, Katya clicks on ‘details’ and saves the number under Tracy Martel.

Katya: Good night, Tracy.

Katya:  <3

…

[sandysmoved]

Field Tested

I haven’t written in actual months now but the newest episode made me want to try writing Gyro so here have the climactic scene from his POV

SPOILERS FOR DUCKTALES 2017 EP 18, WHO IS GIZMODUCK

Rated T, mild swearing, y’all could maybe squeeze some pre-Fenro outta this if you squint but let’s be real it’d be slowburn and far off at this point

The tv on Gyro’s desk had been turned to the daily Waddle press conference as always, popcorn and pep cans within reach to sip and snack and, upon any particularly infuriating remarks by Beaks, fling half full at the screen. Unfortunately, all the refreshments had already been sent airborne when Gyro flipped the table, screaming swears that would leave Donald blushing as that bastard, that unimaginable bastard, had rolled onstage in that stupid armor and proclaimed himself to be Waddleduck.

Waddleduck. God, that was even more stupid than Gizmoduck. Gyro kicked a spewing busted can into the wall, and Manny tapped out an admonishment as he chased it down to throw it in a trash bag with its dented and sticky brethren. Gyro grit his teeth, marching towards the storage closet and grabbing the mop, and furiously scrubbing at the floor as if erasing the consequences of his furious breakdown would magically make him less pissed off.

This was why he’d told Manny to destroy the armor. He’d outright said it, that he couldn’t let this tech fall into the wrong hands. God forbid they have to deal with another B.U.D.D.Y system fiasco. But Cabrera-

Goddamn Cabrera.

In hindsight, Gyro was starting to think the suit had always been in the wrong hands. It wasn’t built for heroics, and it didn’t matter that the interns intentions were good, the tech just wasn’t ready for the grandiose acts he’d had in mind. Of course snatching the armor and running crying to Beaks wouldn’t change that. As infuriating as it had been seeing his tech, his baby, reduced to a glorified gofer for the lazy bastards of the city, he could still take a minute amount of sick, vindictive pleasure in knowing that Cabrera had to be losing his mind inside the suit.

But now he couldn’t even have that, because Beaks had stolen the suit and the credit for himself, naturally.

Lil Bulb stirred on Gyro’s shoulder, slapping his little palm on his creator’s face to redirect his attention back towards the television. The annoyed inventor groaned, steeling himself for whatever new stupidity that pretentious jerk was committing in his suit as he turned back to the tv.

The mop handle clanged against the floor loud enough to make Manny and Lil Bulb jump, and Gyro scrambled for the remote to turn up the volume.

Cabrera was back in the suit. The processor was sticking out of the suit. And one of Scrooge’s nephews, the one in the red shirt, was sitting on the armor’s shoulders as he tugged in and rearranged wiring in the helmet of the suit.

“What the hell are they doing?”

It was obvious what they were doing of course; the kid was rewiring the suit to operate without the processor that was currently poking out of the chest of the suit, red and furious and most likely less than a minute from exploding (of course Beaks had overloaded, of course). But what on Earth did they think they could use as a replacement processor? Even with the volume all the way up, the news camera mic refused to pick up a single clear word of the conversation, and Gyro was ready to start screaming at someone who couldn’t hear him to get closer, for the love of god get closer!

Or, better yet, evacuate the entire city block, because the processor was a powder keg about to blow, and take the suit and everyone in a frightening radius with it. Of course the armor, and the moron inside of it, could almost certainly dispose of the volatile tech in time to save everyone if the kid could link up the suit with a suitable alternative processor, but what could possibly-?

On screen, the kid plugged two wires together, and was jolted off his perch by a violent burst of static, thrown into the waiting arms of officer Cabrera, and…

The armor, Gizmoduck, moved.

Gyro could’ve sworn his lower jaw was about to detach and hit the floor. Onscreen, his former intern carefully plucked the volatile bulbtech processor out of the suit, and from what little of his face showed beneath the visor, he was just as surprised that the alternate processor…

His brain. The kid had rewired the suit to operate off of Cabrera’s brain.

...Why hadn’t he thought of that???

Of course, he hadn’t really expected the intern’s brain to have the processing power of a bag of chips, but there he was, in the middle of the city, operating the most complex piece of technology on earth with nothing more than his own will.

God forbid Gyro ever admit he was wrong, but the realization that he had underestimated Cabrera was pressing down on his ego like a ten pound weight. He’d have to call the intern back to the lab, talk to the kid, run a thousand more experiments and reopen the project and, oh hell, rehire Cabrera to figure this all out…

If any of them survived, that is.

“Get rid of the processor!” He screeched, startling everyone in the lab, including himself, as the little red bulb onscreen started flashing. Gizmoduck jumped into action, activating his rotor and rockets (Cabrera was doing all of that on his own, good lord,) and taking off into the sky. Back on the ground, whoever was behind the camera had the sense to swivel around and track the armor as it left a brief trail in the sky, skating over the waves of the harbor and up into the sky just barely adjacent to the bin.

Gyro was clinging to the desk now, paying no attention to Lil Bulb’s anxious shuffle atop his shoulder. “Throw it Cabrera, for the love of god throw it-!”

Onscreen, the distant glinting suit vanished in a flowering puff of flame and smoke, and Gyro felt a lump rise to his throat and his stomach drop to his feet as the television before him and the sky behind him echoed a deep, thunderous sound. The broadcast zoomed out back to the ground, capturing the red-clad kid as he hopped down from the railing, burying his face in his hands in despair. Next to him, officer Cabrera turned back towards the camera, sinking to the ground with a look of unimaginable shock on her face.

Officer Cabrera. Cabrera had been in the suit. The suit that had just been engulfed in an explosion.

Fenton was dead. Holy god.

Gyro silently stepped back from the desk, sinking down onto the chaise lounge behind him, numb to the sensation of Lil Bulb mournfully burying his tiny glass head into his creator’s cheek. He mindlessly raised his hand to gently stroke the little robot’s bulb, staring at the television as emergency services entered frame to tend to the civilians at the scene. Several officers and paramedics converged on officer Cabrera, helping her to her feet and wrapping her in a shock blanket as she shut her eyes, shaking her head as if denial would change what she had, what they all had just witnessed.

Gyro’s head dropped, his beak resting in his hand as he struggled to process everything he’d just seen. The suit worked, Cabrera had been able to control it without relying on Bulbtech, but…

It had killed him. Gyro’s technology had killed him.

Gyro felt sick to his stomach. He’d have to call Scrooge, come clean about Project Blatherskite, own up to the horrific realization that one of his inventions had finally gone off the deep end and killed someone. He’d probably be fired. God, he’d probably have to face Officer Cabrera, look her in the eyes and tell her that he was the one who built the suit that just killed her son…

“Look!”

He glanced up at the screen, and sat up straighter. The cameraperson, having resumed their intended purpose of following and focusing on Roxanne Featherly as she attempted to approach Beaks (god, of course that bastard would make it out with little more than some bumps and bruises), swiveled around towards the harbor again. The kid was up on the rails again, pointing down at the docks below and shouting, and officer Cabrera and the emergency workers around her all turned to glance over the edge. There was a moment of absolute stillness, and then in one swift motion, officer Cabrera had tossed her shock blanket aside and vaulted over the railing. The cameraperson sprinted after her, coming to the edge and pointing down at the dock, and Gyro nearly fell off the lounge.

On the screen, several feet below the gather crowd, officer Cabrera was checking the vitals of a very soaked, but very much whole, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. She turned towards the railing,  shouting for the paramedics to join her.

“He’s alive!”

He was alive. The suit had been utterly obliterated, but Fenton had survived, had managed to swim back to dry land.

Somewhere behind Gyro, Manny was tapping up a storm in celebration, Lil Bulb leaping off his shoulder to join in the ecstatic chaos. Gyro continued to stare at the screen, watching as the battered former intern (hero, good god he’d done it, he’d taken control of the suit and became a genuine honest to god hero) was swarmed by paramedics and carefully loaded onto a backboard, his mother clinging to his hand the whole way.

As the group carefully lifted the injured duck back up to the street and loaded him into the ambulance, with a small and excited voice hastily explaining to the camera that the young man was a Waddle employee who’d been knocked into the water in the chaos (already looking to provide damage control and protect Gizmoduck’s identity, Scrooge was raising those kids right), Gyro finally found his voice.

“Manny, get McDuck on the line. He needs to know about this.”

He had no idea how Scrooge would react to the revelation that his lab had accidentally created a superhero, how badly he’d be scolded for keeping this quiet, but that didn’t matter. Gyro was already plotting out the blueprints in his head for the newest model of the Gizmosuit.

Hell, maybe the name Gizmoduck would grow on him.

[theinvisiblespoon]

Front of a Building - Chapter 5: You Waited Smiling For This

First  Prev  Next 

Yeah, I know, I know, it’s been five-ever. And it’s 1:30am EST. But here’s the thing; I made an outline. That’s when you know you’re screwed. Have fun! :)  Chapter title is from the song “burned out” by dodie. It’s cool. She’s cool. 

Word count: 1938 

Trigger warnings: insanity, manipulation, alcohol mention, fear, anger, surgery and gunshot mention, gun mention, discussion of murder (wkm), brief allusion to violence. It’s gonna be bad in the next one, too.

Ego Manor had three floors. The top floor only held Dark and Wilford. The second floor held the kitchen, storage closets, bathrooms, and the rooms of Bing, the Jims, King of the Squirrels, Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier, Chef Iplier, and Silver Shepherd. The first floor held a living room, a library, a recording studio, a clinic, bathrooms and the rooms of Host, Google, Ed Edger, and Yandereplier. It was less of a “manor” and more of a “really big house”, but everyone, if not lived together, existed together.

Dr. Iplier was helping Wilford Warfstache up the stairs to his room after the incident that had just occurred in the kitchen. It left him with more questions than answers, but at least he knew not to ask Wilford about this “William” guy again. He couldn’t say that he didn’t want to try again, however. He needed to know what was happening. And if the cost was the rest of Wilford’s sanity…Dr. Iplier glanced at his charge, who was mumbling softly, barely conscious. The doctor shook his head; what was he thinking? He couldn't do that to another ego, much less one of the oldest. But there was the thing — according to the Host, Wilford and Dark weren't the oldest. According to the Host, it was the Jims, of all people. How much did the Host know? That weirdo seemed to understand more than he was letting on.

"No, hey there, we're going this way, Wilford," he urged, turning the ego away from the banister.

"…it's my fault…" he stumbled, but Dr. Iplier caught him before anything else could happen. "…didn't mean to, I swear…"

The doctor searched Wilford's eyes, but they remained as unfocused as ever. "It's…okay, Wilford. It's okay. Just come with me, alright?"

He said something indistinguishable, and Dr. Iplier took that as a confirmation. As they struggled down the hallway and into Wilford's room, the doctor couldn't help but peek at the door to Dark's room. Three weeks had passed since, for lack of better words, his surgery. Wilford lurched forward before the doctor could get a longer look.

"Alright, alright, come on, in bed, let's go…" The Host had really outdone himself; Warfstache was utterly out of it. With one last push, Wilford fell into his bed, dazed and confused. He muttered something again, but it was barely audible.

"What was that?" Dr. Iplier asked, leaning in.

"…don't leave me here. Don't…" Wilford's face scrunched up at some unseen torment.

"Wilford, it's fine. I'll stay if you need—"

"…please, you're all I have left. I'm sorry, don't leave me, don't…" Wilford finally trailed off, sound asleep.

The doctor straightened up, confusion evident. Who was Wilford talking to? Who was William? What the hell was going on?

He leaned back, rubbing his face and calming his breathing. He needed…he needed coffee, he thought. He needed a drink, he tried not to think. Intent on making his way to the kitchen, he stepped out of Wilford's room, but then stopped in the middle of the hallway. Slowly, he turned to the next door down. Did he dare check on Dark? Everyone avoided the top floor when possible, and no one ever went within five feet of Dark's bedroom.

There were three steps between him and the door. Reluctantly, but fueled by curiosity and obligation, he took one of them. What are you so afraid of? He took the second. It's just a door. Don't be so paranoid. He took the last and raised his hand, but before he could knock, he heard a sharp ringing noise coming from directly behind him. Whirling around, he locked eyes with Dark himself.

"D-dark! I didn't see—"

"Clearly."

"I was j-just, uh, bringing Wilford up, and—"

Dark rolled his eyes and pushed past the doctor, reaching for the handle.

"Wait!" Dr. Iplier caught Dark's arm, who stilled. Slowly, Dark turned to stare at the doctor. He said nothing, but the ringing grew and his eyes flashed dangerously. Dr. Iplier let go and took a reflexive step back.

"What?" Dark asked through gritted teeth.

Dr. Iplier paused. Get out, his mind screamed at him. He ignored it. "Dark, are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been three weeks since anyone's seen you, and well, you were shot—"

Dark's aura cracked, and he muttered something under his breath as he turned the handle. "Leave me the hell alone," he warned over his shoulder, and then the door slammed shut in Dr. Iplier's face.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, but he was still on edge. Before the door had shut, he had gotten a glimpse of the room beyond. It was completely torn apart; splintered wood from some type of furniture was scattered in a corner, the bed was overturned, the mirror was broken, and the lamp was laying on the ground. However, there was one thing left untouched. Not only was it intact, it was covered in dust — completely undisturbed. The doctor shut his eyes, trying to remember.

A pipe? No, something else. Long, with a handle…a silver handle. Not a pipe. A cane.

-oOo-

The Jims were an odd pair. They were always out and about, reporting on one thing or another. No one disturbed them — the Jims were best left to their own devices, doing…whatever they did. As a result of their constant absence, their room was more often than not empty. So, the next day, Dr. Iplier found it easy to slip into their shared bedroom when no one was looking.

The oldest egos, huh?

He had reasoned that there was no extracting any helpful or reliable information from the pair, but as they recorded nearly every event remotely interesting in their lives, their tapes might tell a different story. Looking at the boxes upon boxes of VHS tapes spilling out from the open closet, however, Dr. Iplier wished he could go back to his office and drop this entire thing. Groaning, he settled himself onto the floor and pulled a box towards him.

Title after title previewed nothing but useless footage. He pushed aside a saga of sand castle related film to find a tape labeled "JELLY BEANS?!" An entire box told the thrilling tale of buying furniture at IKEA, and another revealed the secret conspiracy of oceans. After an agonizing two hours later, he was still finding nothing. Each title was more stupid than the last: "WRAPPING PAPER FIASCO!", "BOOKS: THE MOVIE", "CRAYON CANON!!", "CORPSE ABDUCTION?", "BIRDS IN TREES!" — wait. Corpse abduction? Since when was there a death? Dr. Iplier picked up a stack of VHS tapes held together by string and reread the first one again. No, that definitely said "corpse abduction". He sat up straighter and turned the stack to see the rest of the titles. They read "SUSPECT WITH A SHOOTY?!", "DEMONS JIM, DEMONS!!" and "DUMMY JIM REENACTS GRISLY SCENE!" This had to be what he was looking for. Excitement flooded through him, and he eagerly undid the string, pulling out the first tape. He stood up (ow, that did not feel good), stepped over his haphazardly made piles, and slid the tape into the TV next to the closet.

The scene opened up on a shot of a manor. Words flashed across the screen: "Breaking News: Markiplier Manor."

Mark has never owned a manor.

Someone was shouting.

"Jim! Jim!" The camera panned to a shot of Jim, gesturing at his the cameraman — his brother. "Jim, come on! I've got the shot!"

When was this made? Even for a VHS, this thing was old. He glanced down at the other tapes in his hand, but the date was either not marked or faded completely. He frowned and went back to watching the TV. A detective had just come into view.

The Jims had been spotted. The detective was now yelling from out of frame. "Hey! Who the hell are you? You listen, this is a crime scene!"

Crime scene? Not only was there a manor that had never been known to exist, but a crime had been committed there?

The Jims were sneaking into the room. The reporter gestured at an outline of a body, and soon after he held up a gun.

"This is profound, in the least," He was saying.

You got that right.

The tape ended in static. The excitement of success was gone, and Dr. Iplier was once again left with more questions than answers.

In went the second tape; except for more of the detective being shown, nothing helpful. In went the third; nothing helpful was in this tape either. He had begun to give up hope when the fourth tape came into view. The Jims were making their way into a room full of evidence. Dr. Iplier fumbled for the remote but finally managed to hit the pause button.

"Don't trust the Seer," he read aloud. The Seer? Who is the Seer?

He continued the tape, starting and stopping to read parts of the scraps of paper littered across the walls and on the desk.

"…safari hunt gone wrong…mayor in legal trouble…" There were (what he guessed to be) names beneath pictures of people, but he couldn't read them. "Fallen movie star…police remain clueless following celebrity death…celebrity actor in cahoots with beloved mayor…" So the movie star — the celebrity — died, and this guy was involved with a corrupt mayor? "…the colonel did it. The colonel did it, the colonel did it, the colonel…"

He should feel excited for knowing more now, shouldn't he? Why, then, did it feel like being in the eye of a storm?

He let his mind wander over the evidence he just been given, the tape falling into static. Dr. Iplier was lost in thought when he heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall.

"We got it, Jim! We got the shot! Jim is going to be so—" Jim skidded to a halt, his brother nearly running straight into him camera-first. "What are you doing here?"

The doctor was about to retort back when he realized this wasn't his own room. "Uh," is what he settled on instead.

"Hey! Those are our tapes!"

"Oh, I was just—" he clumsily hid the ones he was holding behind his back, but he was saved the trouble of finishing his statement by the cameraman gesturing at the other Jim. He was hovering over a half-empty box Dr. Iplier had stopped looking through. Reporter Jim peered over his brother's shoulder. "Jim, look at that!"

The camera was already pointing at the box, so the Jim holding said camera compensated by zooming in further.

"Have you ever seen those tapes before, Jim?" Jim held up his mic to the box as if expecting it to answer.

"Tapes? What tapes?" Dr. Iplier stood and gazed into the box, too. Four tapes stood out from the rest, the black cover contrasting against its white title. The doctor reached in and picked them up. "Who Killed Markiplier?" he spoke aloud. He hadn't seen these before. Why didn't he see these before?

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Those are ours!"

"You just said you had never seen—"

CRASH!

All three of them froze, staring at each other in the tense silence. The silence broke, and Reporter Jim was the first out of the room, followed by his brother with Dr. Iplier close at his heels. They burst into the kitchen together, looking wildly around for the source of the noise. Their eyes locked onto the Host.

He was on the floor, clutching his throat, with Google towering above him.

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[neni-has-ascended]

Any thoughts on the new SU episodes from two weeks ago?

So, in general I was very pleased by how the decided to handle this storyline. In general it wasn’t quite as explosive as I would have hoped, but nevertheless very satisfying. That doesn’t mean it was flawless, of course (what ever ist? I do think there’s quite a few things that could have been executed much better) but it did avoid quite a few terribly annoying tropes while playing into a lot far more pleasant ones.

I’m taking the more detailed view of mine under the cut, to avoid spoiling latecomers!

SPOILERS START HERE

Now we’re only falling apart:

I’m glad the fantheory that Sapphire was gonna betray the CG turned out to be bullshit. It would have been terribly out of character for her to betray her friends and love over something that a person who, for all intents and purposes, is already dead did. Now, running away and crying over it? That I can get. 

What needs to be understood about Sapphire as a person is that she doesn’t just hate the Unknown; she is terrified of it. Thanks to her futurevision, there has almost never been a time in Sapphire’s life when she’s felt like she couldn’t guess the correct course of action in any given situation, or when she didn’t have an idea of what was going to happen. Even Steven’s character development throwing off her calculations wasn’t so bad as that she was completely blindsighted. The one other time this has happened before was when she hooked up with  Ruby and then she had, well, the fact that  at least it led to Ruby and her saving one another to comfort her. Here? She must feel like shes done everything right in a Visual Novel game and yet the script STILL somehow tossed her into the worst possible ending route. I’d ragequit too! 

As for the revelations regarding Pink: They were exactly what I already assumed from the moment of the twist. I knew this was probably exactly as it happened. Pink was naive to what it  meant to colonize a planet, and when she figured out she got sick in the stomach from realizing what’s going to be lost by the end of it. And of course, her sisters didn’t listen, because they’re Blue and Yellow and Blue and Yellow don’t listen to anything that doesn’t align with “the old order”(TM).That Rose Quarz as such, design and all, was Pearl’s idea, surprised me positively. I really like that detail. It shows that Pearl had so much creative potential right from her creation that was being squandered by her assigned role as a servant and only goes to show how flawed the Diamond’s hierarchy of thinking living minds of any sort could be forced into specific castes is. Pink being a little *too* excited at the prospect of fusing with Pearl (or any gems in general) was pretty cute too. She really just wanted to enjoy life. I am starting to feel like each Diamond represents one aspect of the mind; Yellow is cold logic, Blue is emotion and Pink is passion (which can lead into love). Makes me wonder what White is. 

What’s Your Problem

I’ll admit, I was faked out at first. I genuinely thought  season 1 Amethyst was suddenly back at it again, just not caring about the consequences of her actions. When I realized this was actually her slightly misguided attempts to keep Steven from destroying himself over the fiasco his mother caused, I was very positively surprised. Steven really said it best: Amethyst and Steven are the two Crystal Gems who have grown the most as people thanks to overcoming the questions regarding their places in the world. Also, Steven being so incredibly insistent about playing therapist for her kinda reminds me of how I can be with my friends as well, ahaha- Actually, my friends are often like Amethyst in this episode too.

The Question

A RUBY EPISODE YES YES YES YES-

Honestly, I hope that now that Ruby and Sapphire are married and have that to validify their bond aside from their fusion, we’ll see more episodes with them acting independently. As much as I like them as a unit in Garnet, I love them as individual characters as well, especially in how they bounce off each other, something usually only see when Garnet struggles with herself briefly. (Still wanna see them play Meat Beat Mania against one another, and see if that’d lead to the same disaster as when they played it as Garnet-) 

Ruby was adorable in this episode. Charlene Yi may not be a good singer (sorry-) but she is an amazing actress, who I always love to see in anything, no matter what, when she just nails this flaming little ball of nervous badassery whenever she’s on screen. Hope Sapphire ends up sharing her newfound love for comics. Wouldn’t it be cool to see Garnet argue with herself over ships in the background of an episode sometime?

My only complaint is that the proposal could have been an episode all on its own. I would have loved to see more of Ruby and Sapphire deal with coming to terms with the fact that their fusion can’t always be 100% stable and that’s okay and doesn’t make then any less of an amazing couple and team. Doesn’t change the fact that the proposal was cute as heck. Like, I swear, Ruby is a million times better at proposing than me. When I proposed I just ended up flipping the table over my plans halfway through and throwing the ring at him like a moron-

Made of Honor

Should have been a Two Parter. At least. Like, goddamn, this was way too important a plot point to just throw it out in a single 10 minutes segment, you guys! This just continues to show the problems with the Steven Bomb format. This thing needed to end on a climax after 5 eps, right? Not sure if that’s how it was planned, probably not, but that’s what it felt like. There should have been more of a storyline with Bismuth running of and trying to figure out stuff, kinda like Ruby. Heck, maybe those things should have overlapped somehow, I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything brilliant off the top of my head. However, Steven should have had to invest way more effort  into patching things up with Bis’. Bis’ just learned that her entire style of life was built on a lie. I would have been interesting to see her just go into a state where she randomly starts building spires, trying to fulfill her purpose again in utter defeat, until Steven snaps her out of it. That would have conveyed things a bit better. 

I have no problem with Bismuth rejoining the team. She saw that her plan of assassinating key figures in the enemy forces only lead to the entire rebel army basically being nuked.That definitely was enough to shock her out of her genocidal intentions. So yes, I do accept that explanation. In the end she was just as naive as Pink, but in a different way.

Reunited

Let me get out of the way that the first half was all kinds of amazing for one single reason:It had a marriage scene that a) Didn’t come at the tailend of the story and b)Didn’t involve pain and disaster for everyone involved! I’m so sick of marriages in media only being used either as elements of an epilogue (”Happily ever after!”) or as a source of drama. As if working relationships were boring or something. They’re so interesting, especially when written right! Totally ignoring the gay aspect of it all (which is a great thing all in of itself), this is one of the best marriages I’ve seen on TV period! No arranged marriages, no annoying love triangles, no jackass suddenly bursting in going “I OBJECT TO THIS UNION” no bride suddenly bursting into tears because everything is horrible, no “And they lived happily ever after SHOW OVER” BS. Just a proper, nice step in the development of two characters. Also, Garnet’s dress is friggin’ gorgeous

The second half is where the special loses me a bit. Not with the script, that one is pretty great. Aside from once again relegating Peridot to comic relief, that is- Seriously, she can’t even get to use a single attack drone? Tch. Cheep. She has actual skills, you guys! Don’t treat her like a Magikarp! User her assets! 

What lost me was the art direction and animation. While there was a lot of beautiful animation, especially on Blue Diamond, there was also plenty of derp, slow scenes, awkwardly choreographed battle moves... And the way Stephen using his telepathy to resolve the battle was portrayed visually was just very uninspired. It made the characters’ movements look so awkward. I wish they’d invited Horikoshi back in for this scene, because he managed similar scenes back in “Mindful Education” way better. Oh well... All in all, the art direction of that specific scenes just left me deeply underwhelmed.

All in all, however, this has been a very nice storyline so far. Can’t wait for the pay-off!