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#which means the market never really ends
fishystuff · 1 year
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Terrorcon: whatever you say. This should interesting. Fine go. prove us wrong.
The market regulates like any other. The businesses with foresight predict what sales will regularize into. After the boom, sales lower and then stay at a steady pace as fish pillows continue to be exported to places where they can't be made and they keep slowly expanding their reach in the market and collectionists keep buying them. In a world with billions of inhabitants, this is not rare. Also, a few businesses open up repair services, so when fish pillows are torn up by rowdy kids they can be repaired.
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tardis--dreams · 2 years
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One thing you need to know about me is that I will never reblog anything that has the addition "this should be reblogged by everyone" or anything of the like.
#unless it's like#really funny and not a guilt trippy kind of bullshit#i can agree 130% with a post and then see that comment and I'm like#yeah no. go fuck yourself.#(this point has been made so many times but people don't get why it's annoying apparently. people don't dislike your stupid addition#because they secretly disagree with the post but because now it seems like some weird social obligation to rb is#rb this or you're a bad person is a clever marketing strategy but it's quite stupid because it weakens the original point#oh you're saying everyone should rb this? well now it looks like the ppl rbing actually just do it out of some feeling#of social obligation. not because they really want to but because they want to fulfill the arbitrary standards you just made up for being#a good person#and don't get me wrong most certainly are most people rb these posts still out of agreement with the original statement#but it's still annoying as fuck and also you'd think ppl would know by now that people don't generally like being told what to do#so my hypothesis is (and i won't do any research to prove or disprove it (i might be very wrong and most people don't mind obviously)) bjt#but my hypothesis is that people who originally agree with the post but have a strong desire of being free in their choices#won't actually end up rbing bc it's just not that free of a choice anymore bc you just had to make it 'obligatory' but we all know#nothing is obligatory on a stupid webbed site like this so they scroll past while people who maybe would have scrolled past now feel#like they might actually be a bad person if they don't do as it says but without actually caring about the content. which diminishes#the positivity the post originally was supposed to spread bc how do you tell ppl actually mean it now when they rb these things#anyway. am i ranting about something completely asinine phenomenon on tumblr.com? yes.#would it be better to not dedicate my time and energy into making a 'hate' post? absolutely. but that will never stop me from doing so#(also works for things like 'you guys HAVE to do xyz [for your (mental) health/etc]'. literally the best advice phrased like this#is counterproductive. post something that doesn't sound like you're judging everyone who does otherwise and maybe ppl will be more inclined#to believe whatever your point or statement is)#ok I'll stop#shut up amy
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mybrainproblems · 2 years
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brain is just mii waiting room music as i consider where i've ended up in my supernatural fandom journey
#that is to say: a berenscrit dabbfan and glynn stan who considers s1-3 kripke and dabb era to be the best eras of spn#which means i'm sad bloodlines wasn't picked up as separate from spn and think it's a blessing in disguise that wayward wasn't greenlit#also i'm going to be watching an adaptation of a YA novel that i have zero interest in just bc glynn is the showrunner....#i wasn't in the fandom when wayward wasn't picked up but everything i've heard really sounds like it could've been a firefly s2 situation#i feel like the issues with kaia's character are well-understood at this point but killing off missouri to make her a spirit guide(???)#for patience is uh. questionable. and depending on how it was handled could have fallen badly into the magical negro trope#the shitty thing is that we all know it wasn't picked up bc execs thought an all-female cast with middle aged women as leads#wasn't marketable to a larger audience and that part is bullshit but i think maybe it was best it didn't go forward as it was planned#like unless they were intending to have a very diverse writers room i cannot imagine what berens might have come up with#the creation and treatment of kaia as a character says a lot and i think the blame falls more on him than dabb or other writers bc she was#created with the intention of being on the show he would be showrunner for so i think he had more independence/less oversight#dabb is complicit tho and so are the rest of the writers tbh since it doesn't seem like anyone saw any huge issues with it#also: davy perez wrote a better confession in stuck in the middle with you vs 15x18 and does not get nearly enough respect for it 🙄#tbh *none* of the other writers get enough respect like my god you're gonna stan berens and NOT ms meredith glynn????#thee all-rounder and Understander of late seasons and top 5 writers on the show *ever*?#glynn could do 05x04 the end but bedlund could never do regarding dean#hashtag Takes that would get you cancelled in 2021#spn
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phantomrose96 · 7 months
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If anyone wants to know why every tech company in the world right now is clamoring for AI like drowned rats scrabbling to board a ship, I decided to make a post to explain what's happening.
(Disclaimer to start: I'm a software engineer who's been employed full time since 2018. I am not a historian nor an overconfident Youtube essayist, so this post is my working knowledge of what I see around me and the logical bridges between pieces.)
Okay anyway. The explanation starts further back than what's going on now. I'm gonna start with the year 2000. The Dot Com Bubble just spectacularly burst. The model of "we get the users first, we learn how to profit off them later" went out in a no-money-having bang (remember this, it will be relevant later). A lot of money was lost. A lot of people ended up out of a job. A lot of startup companies went under. Investors left with a sour taste in their mouth and, in general, investment in the internet stayed pretty cooled for that decade. This was, in my opinion, very good for the internet as it was an era not suffocating under the grip of mega-corporation oligarchs and was, instead, filled with Club Penguin and I Can Haz Cheezburger websites.
Then around the 2010-2012 years, a few things happened. Interest rates got low, and then lower. Facebook got huge. The iPhone took off. And suddenly there was a huge new potential market of internet users and phone-havers, and the cheap money was available to start backing new tech startup companies trying to hop on this opportunity. Companies like Uber, Netflix, and Amazon either started in this time, or hit their ramp-up in these years by shifting focus to the internet and apps.
Now, every start-up tech company dreaming of being the next big thing has one thing in common: they need to start off by getting themselves massively in debt. Because before you can turn a profit you need to first spend money on employees and spend money on equipment and spend money on data centers and spend money on advertising and spend money on scale and and and
But also, everyone wants to be on the ship for The Next Big Thing that takes off to the moon.
So there is a mutual interest between new tech companies, and venture capitalists who are willing to invest $$$ into said new tech companies. Because if the venture capitalists can identify a prize pig and get in early, that money could come back to them 100-fold or 1,000-fold. In fact it hardly matters if they invest in 10 or 20 total bust projects along the way to find that unicorn.
But also, becoming profitable takes time. And that might mean being in debt for a long long time before that rocket ship takes off to make everyone onboard a gazzilionaire.
But luckily, for tech startup bros and venture capitalists, being in debt in the 2010's was cheap, and it only got cheaper between 2010 and 2020. If people could secure loans for ~3% or 4% annual interest, well then a $100,000 loan only really costs $3,000 of interest a year to keep afloat. And if inflation is higher than that or at least similar, you're still beating the system.
So from 2010 through early 2022, times were good for tech companies. Startups could take off with massive growth, showing massive potential for something, and venture capitalists would throw infinite money at them in the hopes of pegging just one winner who will take off. And supporting the struggling investments or the long-haulers remained pretty cheap to keep funding.
You hear constantly about "Such and such app has 10-bazillion users gained over the last 10 years and has never once been profitable", yet the thing keeps chugging along because the investors backing it aren't stressed about the immediate future, and are still banking on that "eventually" when it learns how to really monetize its users and turn that profit.
The pandemic in 2020 took a magnifying-glass-in-the-sun effect to this, as EVERYTHING was forcibly turned online which pumped a ton of money and workers into tech investment. Simultaneously, money got really REALLY cheap, bottoming out with historic lows for interest rates.
Then the tide changed with the massive inflation that struck late 2021. Because this all-gas no-brakes state of things was also contributing to off-the-rails inflation (along with your standard-fare greedflation and price gouging, given the extremely convenient excuses of pandemic hardships and supply chain issues). The federal reserve whipped out interest rate hikes to try to curb this huge inflation, which is like a fire extinguisher dousing and suffocating your really-cool, actively-on-fire party where everyone else is burning but you're in the pool. And then they did this more, and then more. And the financial climate followed suit. And suddenly money was not cheap anymore, and new loans became expensive, because loans that used to compound at 2% a year are now compounding at 7 or 8% which, in the language of compounding, is a HUGE difference. A $100,000 loan at a 2% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, accrues to $121,899. A $100,000 loan at an 8% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, more than doubles to $215,892.
Now it is scary and risky to throw money at "could eventually be profitable" tech companies. Now investors are watching companies burn through their current funding and, when the companies come back asking for more, investors are tightening their coin purses instead. The bill is coming due. The free money is drying up and companies are under compounding pressure to produce a profit for their waiting investors who are now done waiting.
You get enshittification. You get quality going down and price going up. You get "now that you're a captive audience here, we're forcing ads or we're forcing subscriptions on you." Don't get me wrong, the plan was ALWAYS to monetize the users. It's just that it's come earlier than expected, with way more feet-to-the-fire than these companies were expecting. ESPECIALLY with Wall Street as the other factor in funding (public) companies, where Wall Street exhibits roughly the same temperament as a baby screaming crying upset that it's soiled its own diaper (maybe that's too mean a comparison to babies), and now companies are being put through the wringer for anything LESS than infinite growth that Wall Street demands of them.
Internal to the tech industry, you get MASSIVE wide-spread layoffs. You get an industry that used to be easy to land multiple job offers shriveling up and leaving recent graduates in a desperately awful situation where no company is hiring and the market is flooded with laid-off workers trying to get back on their feet.
Because those coin-purse-clutching investors DO love virtue-signaling efforts from companies that say "See! We're not being frivolous with your money! We only spend on the essentials." And this is true even for MASSIVE, PROFITABLE companies, because those companies' value is based on the Rich Person Feeling Graph (their stock) rather than the literal profit money. A company making a genuine gazillion dollars a year still tears through layoffs and freezes hiring and removes the free batteries from the printer room (totally not speaking from experience, surely) because the investors LOVE when you cut costs and take away employee perks. The "beer on tap, ping pong table in the common area" era of tech is drying up. And we're still unionless.
Never mind that last part.
And then in early 2023, AI (more specifically, Chat-GPT which is OpenAI's Large Language Model creation) tears its way into the tech scene with a meteor's amount of momentum. Here's Microsoft's prize pig, which it invested heavily in and is galivanting around the pig-show with, to the desperate jealousy and rapture of every other tech company and investor wishing it had that pig. And for the first time since the interest rate hikes, investors have dollar signs in their eyes, both venture capital and Wall Street alike. They're willing to restart the hose of money (even with the new risk) because this feels big enough for them to take the risk.
Now all these companies, who were in varying stages of sweating as their bill came due, or wringing their hands as their stock prices tanked, see a single glorious gold-plated rocket up out of here, the likes of which haven't been seen since the free money days. It's their ticket to buy time, and buy investors, and say "see THIS is what will wring money forth, finally, we promise, just let us show you."
To be clear, AI is NOT profitable yet. It's a money-sink. Perhaps a money-black-hole. But everyone in the space is so wowed by it that there is a wide-spread and powerful conviction that it will become profitable and earn its keep. (Let's be real, half of that profit "potential" is the promise of automating away jobs of pesky employees who peskily cost money.) It's a tech-space industrial revolution that will automate away skilled jobs, and getting in on the ground floor is the absolute best thing you can do to get your pie slice's worth.
It's the thing that will win investors back. It's the thing that will get the investment money coming in again (or, get it second-hand if the company can be the PROVIDER of something needed for AI, which other companies with venture-back will pay handsomely for). It's the thing companies are terrified of missing out on, lest it leave them utterly irrelevant in a future where not having AI-integration is like not having a mobile phone app for your company or not having a website.
So I guess to reiterate on my earlier point:
Drowned rats. Swimming to the one ship in sight.
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dcxdpdabbles · 18 days
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Danny has been mostly straight his whole 15 years of life. No his first kiss being Tucker doesn’t count, he will deny that to the end of the world. But he’s never really tried to explore his sexuality because it’s just never been tested.
Meanwhile DAN knows better, he did however not realize Danny wasn’t at the age he figured it out yet.
So Pride rolls around and Dan pops out of Clockwork’s tower and grabs Danny like “hey it’s time for pride.” And Danny is very confused because wtf Dan goes to pride???? He ended the world and despises humans but no, Pride is where he draws the line. Where are they even going for pride???
Gotham. Dan takes them to Gotham for Pride.
-Sincerely, Bisexual Son Dan anon
Danny glances comprehensively at the crowd of colorfully dressed people just as a woman on roller skates wearing nothing but a rainbow skirt and heart pasties flies by. At once, his whole face grows warm, and he drags his eyes down to the concrete before he makes the mistake of lingering on her too much.
He doesn't want her to think he is a creep. Or a pervert. Gosh, what if she thinks he's the reason women can't wear what they like in public because of men like him?
Danny can practically feel Sam stomping on the back of his knees with her metal boots at the mere idea.
The concrete becomes ten times more interesting as he listens to the woman zip away, dodging and weaving through the crowd with a cheer. Danny chances a glance up, only to make direct eye contact with her as she twirls in an impressive circle.
Her skirt fans out, displaying colorful shorts underneath, and she offers him a wink that makes the saliva in his mouth go down the wrong tub.
Half choking Danny, he flings his head away, staring at a different part of the group. He wants to die.
Dan snorts from where he is carefully painting a heart on the entire left side of his face. The older man had yanked him into the portal with barely an explanation and then opened a handheld mirror to paint himself with.
The heart is large, dramatic, and in three colors. Danny thinks they represent something, but he has yet to learn what. "Relax, kid. She won't bite- you don't have the bits she's into."
"What? Where are we? Why did you bring me here? Whats' going on!" Danny demands, clinging to Dan's arm as the man places the final white dots on his heart.
"We are in the best place to be in all of the Realms," Dan answers, gesturing to their surroundings. "Pride in Gotham! I brought you here to enjoy the festivities before I kick your ass in a re-match. Think of this as a second Truce Day."
"Pride?" Danny repeats, confused. Why would a person responsible for the world's end care about a minor holiday like that? Then, his mind caught up to the rest of what he said, making Danny even more confused. "Why would this count as a Truce day?"
Dan hums, pulling his long hair into a braid with careful but quick movements. "In the Realms, romance is regarded as a scarred topic and will be treated with the utmost respect. Ghosts rarely get married, so worrying about what gender people date is none existing. Unless you're stuck in a punishment island, but being in an endless era means ghosts never leave them. In this world, Gotham suffers an insane amount of crime, and on holidays, it's twice as bad, except for Valentine's Day and Pride. It's the only time the Rouges work together to ensure the city can enjoy themselves. You see? It alines in the dead and living worlds!"
Danny blinks slowly, "I don't understand any of that or why we are here."
Dan finishes his hair, by adding a little rainbow bow to the end. He truns a critical eye on Danny, looking him up and down then pulling out a pack of fake eyelashes. "I have rainbow heart lashes if you want to try them on."
"Answer my questions!"
The older man sighs as if Danny is in colossal pain, which is rude, considering he was the one who had dragged Danny from the street on his way home. "We're just here to enjoy the Pride Street Market. Maybe partake in a few contests if we're feeling brave. Look at booths. Watch the parade. You know, have fun."
"We," Danny gestures aggressively between them, just barely stopping himself from stomping his foot. "Don't do things together for fun!" And why Pride of all places, I'm not even gay!"
"I don't believe that."
Danny draws up short. "Excuse me!?"
"I said I don't believe you're not gay. I remember being your age. I was you, remember? I know how you reacted to Wes Weston."
The thought of the basketball-playing ginger runs through his head, sending a strange tingle through his body. Danny has always assumed that he was wary of the one person outside his friends who knew his secret. He can't believe Dan would even suggest that it was anything but weariness. "You mean the creep that follows me, trying to take my picture mid-transformation!?"
Dan shrugs. "You have a lot of things to wise up to. You're young; you don't know yet what having your picture taken does to you."
"What does that even mean!?"
Dan shrugs, putting away all his things in a convenient portal that pops up. "It means you're young. You'll learn."
Danny frowns, ready to demand more, when a shout of his older counterpart's name draws his attention. He twists around, looking into the flow of the crowd only to be surprised again by the more people in various revealing outfits, some of which warm his face.
Walking towards them is a man in a biker jacket, built like a brick house and towering over the people he passes. He's got big, heavy stomping boots, the kind that Sam would fist fight someone for, andan attractiveg white streak in his hair.
Was he a model?
Besides the rainbow wristband, nothing indicates he's here for pride.
"Jason!" Dan greets, grabbing the other by the outstretched arm and yanking in for a one-hand hug. "How have you been man?"
"Same old, same old," Jason responds with a laugh. Danny notes that he has a charming voice. He also has bright blue eyes and a sharp jawline—even the slope of his nose seems perfect. Danny didn't even know that was possible in noses. "Just got accepted to Gotham U for their English program."
"That's great! You'll obviously go to graduate at the top. No one is better at English than you." Dan chirps. Danny is too busy staring up at Jason in awe to be embarrassed by the eagerness with which Dan speaks to his friend. It was like listening to Jazz when she met that one famous poet at a slam and was tripping over herself to ask for his number.
Jason glances down at Danny, rasing a brow. "This is?"
Dan startsles almost as if he forgot he had kidnapped someone. " Oh, right. This is my baby brother, Danny."
"Oh," Jason grins, dragging out the o sound. He turns to Danny—who actually flinches back—and holds out his hand. "Dan told me all about you. I'm Jason Todd. Nice to meet you."
"Um...I- nice to meet. My name is. I mean, it's nice to meet you too. I'm Danny Fenton." He wants to barf.
This is worse than when Wes had cornered him in the boy's locker room, clutching his camera and hissing that he intended to document every moment of Danny's day for signs of Phantom.
It did make sense that any friends of Dan's- bringers of apocalypse, destroyers of humanity- made him uneasy. He's probably evil too.
"This is Danny's first Pride," Dan tells Jason in the same tone a parent would say: This is his first day of preschool. Dannny burns in embarrassment.
"Nice. You picked the great one to start in, kid. Gotham Pride is the best in the whole country." Jason says, tilting his head towards the booths. "My brother is helping his boyfriend run an informational booth for various sexualities if you're interested"
Dan steps forward with bright eyes. "Tim and Bernard are finally official?"
"Five months strong," Jason confirms with a laugh. You think Timmy would have realized it after going on three dates with the guy. It took Bernard getting kidnapped midway by a pain cult for it to click in Tim's head.
"He's young" Dan laughs, gesturing to a stun Danny. "Like this one."
"Ah, to be young and not dead." Jason sighed, sidestepping a child who ran by with a giant rainbow balloon. It smacked against Danny, waking him from whatever trace he was under.
Danny doesn't know what to make of all this. Figuring he should escape while Dan is distracted by the model man, he steps back, attempting to activate his powers, only to be shocked when he remains solid and in sight. Dan glances at him with an evil light in his eye.
"Lady Gotham nuterlizes our powers here. You have to be normal." He says and Jason titls his head.
"He's dead too?"
"A Halfa."
"Ah" Jason looks down at Danny who was starting to panic. "You want to go grab something to eat? There is this one food truck on the other side of the plaza run by the Riddler. He makes a mean BBQ."
At this point, did Danny even have a choice? "Okay."
Pride turned out to be surprisingly fun, and he learned that the paint that Dan had colored himself with was the "pansexual" flag. Also, Jason's parents must have marinated him in hotness juice alongside his siblings before letting any of them be born.
Hot damn.
Danny accepted the pansexual flag that Dan silently handed to him as the Waynes conversed at Tim's booth.
Maybe he should text Wes when he gets back from Pride.
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bouncybongfairy · 6 months
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First off, I love your writing and I can’t get enough really. I’ve been obsessed with your atla stuff and I was wondering if you’d be down to write for Sokka. Any smut really but like something like, you’re traveling with the gaang and there’s tons of tension with him. If not no hard feelings whatsoever, just a suggestion.
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Do You?
Sokka x Fem Reader Smut
Summary: There's been a lot of tension between you and Sokka for the past couple of weeks. After and heated argument, Anng send both of you to get some air. Sokka finds you in a tavern after a couple of drinks and both your feelings come to the surface.
Word Count: 1.0k+
TW: Smut
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Appa had been sick for the past couple days, meaning you guys were basically stranded until he was better. It didn’t help that you and Sokka had been going at it lately. You weren’t really sure why but everything he did drove you crazy. Anng paired the two of you up to skin the fish for tonight's dinner. The entire time he was criticizing you about how you were descaling it. Bragging about back home he could prepare a fish faster than anyone.
“Oh so since you’re the best and can do it ‘fAsTeR tHaN aNyOnE’ you can do this on your own,” you said, standing up and wiping your hands. 
“Sloppy help is better than no help,” he huffed. 
“Whatever, I'll go help Katara,” you said. 
“Wait no- okay I’ll chill with the critiques. Let me teach you,” he said, reaching his hand out. 
Without saying anything, you walked back over and sat on your knees. He sat behind you, his knees on the outside of your hips and thighs. Giving you the knife and securing your grip with his own. Holding onto the outsides of your hands as he instructed. As he talked, you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. Due to him being so close to your ear, he lowered his voice. Speaking with a soft and gentle tone, making your ears burn slightly. You began unknowingly letting yourself enjoy this. The way you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. Liking the feeling of his body against yours and his smell engulfing your nose. 
“See,even you can do it!” he said in an extremely patronizing way. 
“Fuck off,” you said, feeling overwhelmed by how much you were enjoying his touch. Also not appreciating his poking fun at you even more. 
“Ugh you’re exhausting, even when I try being nice you push me away. Can't you see that I like -ahem- that I’m like, trying to make an effort!” he said, cheeks flushing red. 
“That’s it! I’m tired of hearing the two bickering none stop. Both of you need space from each other! Sokka you go that way, y/n you go that way. I don’t care what you do, but don’t come back until you figure out why both of you are so insufferable!” Anng yelled, slamming his glider onto the ground. 
The two of you made intense eye contact before walking away. Luckily for you, he sent you in the direction of a local market in the village. The walk gave you a lot of time to think; when he was helping you skin the fish, it felt like he had underlying feelings. Like he was purposely finding an excuse to be close to you. The tone in his voice was different, you never heard him talk like that to anyone else.​​ The way he slid his hands along your arms before grabbing your hands. It was becoming evident that the frustration and tension you’ve been feeling wasn’t caused by anger. 
You finally reached a tavern, it wasn’t much but it was cozy. Drunk men singing and goofing off with each other. A group of women gossiping with each other adjacent to a group of men playing Pai Sho. Immediately feeling out of place, you walk up to the barmaid and ask for whatever she recommended. Which ended up being some type of fermented wine. One of the young men comes up to you, trying to engage in conversation. 
“Are you new to town? I’ve been coming here for a couple years but I've never seen you,” he says, smiling while holding his drink. 
“Oh um, yeah I’m just staying in town for a couple days,” you explain, finishing off your drink and ordering another one. 
“Aww that’s a shame, I bet I could convince you to stay for a little longer,” he said, which made you giggle. 
You were now polishing off your third drink, watching the game. Enjoying the music, making conversation with the other patrons. Dancing with the group of young women from earlier. You didn’t realize Sokka was watching you from the wooden doors. Eventually the young gentlemen who you were speaking with earlier, starts to dance with you. Sokka was visibly getting more irritated, watching his hand travel down your back. Once the guy wrapped his arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, he couldn’t control himself. Stomping over and pulling you out of the dude's grip. Your heart sank once your eyes fell onto him. Like you’d been caught doing something wrong, looking you up and down with such disappointment.
“We're leaving,” Sokka growled, grabbing you by the upper arm gently. 
“Does she want to leave with you,” the guy asked. 
“Do you?” Sokka asked, looking down at you. Feeling quite tipsy it made you nervous to speak. Like if you opened your mouth, only stupidness would come out. He was looking at you with such intensity and jealousy, you nodded your head in agreement. Leading you out of the building, into an alley behind the building. Giving you two some privacy while waiting for him to talk. 
“Are you mad?” you asked. 
“I feel like I've dropped all the hits I can. I don’t know if this is like… your way of making me just admit it but I like you. If you keep pushing me away every time I come onto you then I just won’t anymore. I can’t take it,” he said, walking over to the river bank. Letting his hair free from its pony tail out of frustration. Falling onto his knees and splashing some cool water onto his face. Seeing how disappointed he was in your actions made you feel stupid. Like you were blind to all his advances and playful teasing and it was too late to let your feelings known. However, you were drunk enough to at least give it a shot. Walking over to him and joining where he sat in the grass. 
“I think I was just nervous -hiccup- to tell you how I felt. Then because I was holding all my feelings inside, I became standoffish. I’m sorry,” you said, brushing the partially wet hair off his face before continuing, “Please don’t think I’m only saying this because I drank. Drunk thoughts are sober words… or is it sober words are drunk thoughts,” you begin making him laugh. 
“Are you gonna make me ask for a kiss?” you asked, he took your offer and smashed his lips against yours. 
Lips melting together as you straddle his lap. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Moaning as you started grinding down on his dick print. The alcohol in your system was making you more ballsy, desperately grinding yourself against him. Enjoying the friction against your clit. Sokka’s mouth hung open as bucked his hips up. Gripping your hips tightly, helping work you on him. He was sitting up, back against the back wall of the tavern. You were holding his face in your hands, moaning and panting against his lips. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he started to cum. His hips spasming from underneath, you could feel his length spasm against your core, sending you into climax. Time slowed while fire was pooling in your lower abdomen and you frantically rubbed yourself against him. Letting your head fall towards, letting him support your weight while cooling down. Both of you walking hand and hand, his giving you a piggy back ride once you became too tired. 
“Great, see sometimes a little space does people good. Glad you guys worked it out,” Anng said as the two of you walked to separate tents. 
“Oh trust me, we really worked through our problems,” Sokka remarked before everyone turned in.
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lokisgoodgirl · 2 months
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Daylight Orgy: The Rite (IV)
Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (4) You confront Loki about Fandral - and the rules of the Rite are bent to breaking point. (w/c 4.1k) Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Asgard Loki! x FReader. Smuttish (+ 3rd party smut). Jealousy. Loki being a naughty prince.
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Had you been expecting Loki to follow you?
That he’d thunder down those spiral steps and throw the bronze door open? Tear across the market square half-naked and yank you by the shoulders to say, ‘Stop – that scoundrel is a lying vagabond…’ ?
Yes, obviously.
But he didn’t.
You couldn’t settle back in your chambers. Picking things up, putting them down, moving to the window - always on edge for a knock that didn’t come.
‘The pleasure of the subject is only one part of the ritual. You cannot possibly fulfil the second.’
The fuck was that supposed to mean? Loki never mentioned a second part. As far as you knew, all you had to do was lie there and let him eat you out, not contain any enthusiasm, and try not to die from overstimulation. Sure…there might be other weird shit, it was the Asgardian Royals after all – but this seemed important.
If Fandral’s telling the truth, that is.
You frown, staring at a wiry bird shifting over the rooftops. Clearly, Fandral's a shit-stirrer. Clearly, he’s jealous, Loki had said as much. You’d be pretty jealous too if you were the only person in the inner-circle Loki hadn’t fucked over the past five centuries. An unexpected wrench of envy twists your stomach.
But the prince you’d seen in the Weaving Rooms was entirely different to the one that stared down from frescos and observed his worshippers with cool disdain. A smile that lit up his eyes, the inflection of a breathless chuckle as you caught him by surprise, a faint blush that could be mistaken as humble, the hesitant lust which thrummed beneath his skin as you’d pressed to him –
‘I need to see you,’ he’d said. ‘Every day from now until then.’ Like you meant something to him, and it felt…real.
Was it really a game? Would he pull the rug at the last minute before the ceremony? It was very on brand, you’d admit. The thought sends a violent shudder up your spine.
The next morning, there’s no knock at the door from Loki’s apprentice. No letters, no nothing. Anxiety creeps to anger, and with every inch the sun moves up the sky, your feet get itchier. Does he think I’m just going to sit around and wait for him? Fucking gods. Maybe I should just tell him no – then he’ll have do the Rite with Fandral, see how that works out. Serve him right.
But then… the thought of Loki crawling on top of that smarmy, coiffured arsehole invades your brain. Shit. You shift down the corridors of the court towards the interior palace. No one looks at you today. The golden doors of the main entrance to the royal quarters loom, and you swallow, heart loud in your ears. A guard side-steps in front of you with a cock of an eyebrow as effective as a raise of his hand. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say. The eyebrow cocks higher. “You know how many people try that every day?” He looks down to your feet, and back to your face with a sneer. “Most of them dress better for the occasion. Or at least bring a bribe.”
You stare at him with heat creeping up your neck. “He knows who I am.” He laughs. “I bet he does.” “He does!” “Look…” The guard cups your elbow and ushers you to the side, glancing towards his peers at the other end of the door. “I don’t want to embarrass you, love. Just do yourself a favour, and leave.”
Your eyes narrow. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say again, harsher this time. “Can someone just go and tell him I’m here? He’ll be pissed if he finds out you turned me away.” The guard flinches fractionally, studying your face. Eventually he leaves, and five minutes later, he’s back. “Come on,” he says gruffly. No apology, very nice. The gold door slams and the bustle of the outer court disappears. The air is cooler in here, a strange stillness hanging like perfume. More marble carves in large arches along the corridor, open to garden running up the middle of a courtyard. Somewhere, water trickles - but you can't see it. “He’s drunk,” the guard says without looking back. “Excuse me?” “The Prince. He’s drunk, and he has company.” You frown. It isn’t even midday. Suddenly your throat feels very tight, and you feel very small. If Loki had wanted to see me, he’d have asked. He’d have sent for me. So much for being aloof and interesting. Your irritation towards Fandral blooms with new fervour: not only has he ruined your excitement; he’s ruined your hot-girl-mystery.
The guard stops abruptly and you collide into his shoulder-guards. He clears his throat, stamping a staff twice.
You roll your eyes, shuffling around him. Through an open set of doors is a room like something from the whispered tales of olden Asgard. Chiffon flutters at the windows, long plush cushions lining the floor draped with blankets that shimmer in sunlight. In the corner, some blindfolded guy is plucking at a lute. Platters of nuts, grapes, sweet cakes lie half-demolished across the floor, and twice the amount of goblets as people. And then...your jaw goes slack.
Bodies shift in the room, two dozen, at least - all moving to their own rhythm like waves rippling to shore. A woman sits perched on the windowsill; you can’t see her face, only her legs wrapped around a man’s arse as he slowly thrusts into her. Her hair shimmers like spun gold; lips stained with rich juices while she pants to the ceiling. On the cushions, a man and woman lie side-by-side, kissing languidly as two other men busy themselves between their respective thighs. People are fucking…everywhere: sets of two, three, four. Norns. You’re trying to find somewhere to set your eyes that doesn’t involve breasts, or glistening body parts, or faces twisted in pleasure that you definitely shouldn’t be witness to. And then, they land on Loki. He's looking directly at you with a lazy, dark delight. The Prince lounges across a gilded chair in the corner; one thigh hiked over the armrest and the other stretched to its full length. His boots look more obscene on him than usual, today – sprawling like that.
The laces of his shirt are undone, dark tangles of hair spread over his shoulders and pearls of sweat glistening on his collarbone. With a mildly horrifying lurch of your stomach, you notice the ties at his groin are loose, too. But he’s not got someone squirming around his cock, and that’s something, at least. His lips move, but no sound comes out. You frown as he waves a hand, beckoning you through the doors. Dangling on the precipice of a flee, you feel one foot move in front of the other – and then your face feels like its slathered in jelly: cool, wet slime sliding over your skin. You lurch out the other side of the doorway with a gasp...and then the sound hits. Moans of pleasure ring to the high ceilings: grunts, mewls, groans of names you’ve never heard as they wring pitched ecstasy from each other. Loki’s smile grows. “Just a small silencing enchantment.” He shrugs and clicks his fingers. The door slams behind you. A few pairs of eyes flicker in your direction before re-focusing on their work. You can’t blame them – you’re entirely overdressed. Picking your way across the floor, you come to a stop beside him.
This…isn’t what you’d expected. He rests his head back, half-lidded eyes clouded by whatever’s swirling in his goblet. “You realise it’s not even midday?”
An impish smile lifts Loki’s lips, a flash of tongue nipping over the bottom one. “I am a second son of the crown, famed for hedonism and the sensual pleasures…how else should I fill my days?” Your eyes rise to the couple fucking on the windowsill. “Could we talk somewhere?”
A frown ghosts his forehead, and Loki reaches for your hand. His eyes have sharpened, and he looks almost sober. “We’re all friends here, it’s just…a release. A club, if you will. We can talk here, unless you’re uncomfortable.” Your tongue pokes against your cheek. You have no right to ask this, and yet, “Have you ‘released’ today, then?” One of Loki’s brows rise, lips rippling in a closed smile. “Yes.”
That jealousy you’d been fighting settles like a stone. Loki’s eyes slide between yours, slivers of sapphire sparking beyond deep pools of black. “Although not with any interference from another,’ he adds huskily. “I’m…saving myself, it seems.” “Oh?” “Mmm. Delayed gratification is a powerful lure.”
As the hum leaves his lips, Loki shuffles on the chair: back straightening and the leg hoisted on the armrest shifting. You try not to let your gaze drop to his crotch, but it’s a moth-flame situation. He’s hard, of course. Behind you, someone orgasms.
Heat pools in your lower belly, arousal blossoming like liquid shadow, and you know for a fact if you move – there will be a slip between your thighs. You’ve never been somewhere like this – sex has always been private, quiet. Loki’s looking at you with something close to innocence. Perhaps it’s the way you know there absolutely no way you can fuck him – no way for him to touch that hot mess gathering between your folds, and no way for you to suckle the head of his cock as he tangles those long fingers in your—
“Did you hear what I said?” You clear your throat, swallowing. “Sorry, I was…somewhere else.” “Mmm,” Loki hums again, brushing a finger by his lips to stifle a smile. He lowers his thigh from the armrest and pats it: once, twice. Like a magnet, you slide onto his lap. Across the room, a woman being fucked against a pillar frowns at you over her partner’s shoulder. An arrogant thrill soaks up your spine while Loki’s nose brushes down your cheek; lips lingering on the curve of your neck, his breath gloriously cool against the heat of your skin.
“What did you want to discuss, little owl? Here, in my den of debauchery.” His fingers dance up the folds of fabric at your midsection, cupping a breast and beginning to toy at the nipple. It feels so fucking good: too good. He pinches it gently, rolling against his thumb, knowing exactly what he’s doing; you exhale against his cheek, and it makes it almost impossible to whisper, “Fandral.”
The fingers still, and you can feel Loki frowning without even having to look. “What?” he growls. It’s all you can do not to grind against his thigh. He’s wearing a tight pair of leather trousers, so at least none of the mess between your legs, probably soaking through your dress, will get on his skin. But he might touch me. He pinches your nipple, eyes narrowing. A hiss erupts from your throat, tapering to a moan. “Fandral,” you say on the exhale. “If it’s not too much trouble, desist from moaning that rube's name in my presence, darling.” You frown. “He said you’re messing with me; said you don’t have any intention of us doing the Rite together, and that he’ll be the—”
Suddenly you’re airborne, Loki’s strong hands scooping you like a bag of feathers and manoeuvring you to one of the long pillows on the floor. He looms over you on his hands and knees; one set on either side of your left leg, a wild veil of black hair hanging around his jaw. His lips part, and the impossible muscles of his shoulders shift beneath the drape of that slutty shirt. “He will not,” Loki says. “Did that cunning little mouse say he was visiting Lagertha for any other reason than to have his doublet mended?” His breath is tinged with the sweetness of primrose wine. “You are my chosen partner; he has no sway in it – and certainly no say in it.”
The gravel of his voice is bass to the continuum of groaning that sings between pillars. Desire scorches your skin, tightening your thighs and twisting your stomach so taut it might snap. Your gaze shifts fractionally to the side, catching sight of a beautiful man with bronze hair glittering like a copper coin as his cock sinks inside against another man’s ass: again, again - a hand fastening to the back of his lover’s neck. The second man moans: guttural, primal. “Do you like that?” Loki’s breath licks the shell of your ear, his hands shifting the skirts of your loose dress up your parted legs like water. The digits slide down your arms, guiding them above your head. You can’t look away: the men are poetry together. The one taking everything the other has to give grips the back of a chair, his knuckles white, his jaw trembling and cock hard at his stomach as the fingers cradling his neck tighten.
If Loki can’t ravish you, if he can’t touch your cunt which aches for his tongue – then you’ll settle for his voice. And the heat radiating from the collar of his shirt. And anyway, you’re pretty sure his voice alone will make you climax in 3…2…1— “I want to know everything,” Loki says: dark, filthy, and…honest? Your pussy clenches so hard you almost whimper. “You’ve told me about your life, but now I wish to know your desires…your deepest fantasies. I crave that knowledge like an orgasm I cannot sate.”
His husk lingers heavy over any other sound, filling your mind with strange, inadvisable, thoughts of forever. “What you like,” he hums, “what you want…how I can pleasure you beyond anything you’ve shared with another, and how I can haunt every moment your mind wanders from now until eternity.”
The god’s lips graze your pulse point, and you can feel the thump of blood beating against his skin. “So, I ask again,” he says as the figures fucking in front of you blur, “do you like that?”
A stab of air rips down your throat as you gasp, “Yes.” Norns, right now you’d let him flip you over and sink into your ass in a second.
Without warning, one of Loki’s leather clad thighs presses against your clit. Sparks explode from your centre, tendrils of utter desire rippling across your body like the drag of a lit match. Fear widens your eyes, and amusement dances in his. “Your arousal cannot touch me through these,” he says coolly, taking his time over every syllable. “My hands remain here…” Loki’s eyes dart up to his fingers encircling your wrists, and squeezes. “My sword remains sheathed, and my leathers are merely...” He presses the flat of his lower thigh against your clit again, “A tool.”
“That’s cheating,” you say breathlessly. Loki’s lip twitches in a knowing smirk, a half shrug conveying, ‘What did you expect?’ “Don’t you want to play with me?” His eyes narrow, and another lance of need spears through your core. Your lips roll together, stifling a moan as your brows draw tight. “You’re drunk,” you say. But you don’t believe it. Loki’s pupils are still wide and deep enough to drown in, but it’s not the primrose wine. Unbelievably, it’s you. For now, you decide to let yourself imagine he doesn’t just need you for the Rite; that it could be more – that he could be yours.
The weight of his attention lies heavier in the air than the aroma of sex, and his thigh grinds against your pussy; catching the spot above your clit with each, gentle tug.
“Fuck…Loki,” you whisper, back arching off the cushion. His chin rises, smouldering beneath half-lidded eyes. “Talk to me,” he breathes. You want to dig the heel of your palm against his solid cock bound beneath the crotch of his leathers. You want to feel his animal god-lust pulsing under your hand - more fuel for the violently dirty fantasies you’ll create in your head later as you writhe beneath the sheets alone.
Loki tuts, squeezing your wrists again. You offer a weak, breathy struggle. “No, little owl. Not today, not yet. I want to be destructively engorged with the sight of you…denied what I want while I hear you come undone.” “Loki,” you whine again, face hot and a hum growing in your ears. This is crazy. And yet…
Loki’s thigh moves in wicked waves against your clit; his eyes burning into yours, those thin lips parted and flushed, and ragged exhales scraping from his throat like he’s sinking inside your cunt. “Talk to me,” he says again, but this time, it’s a beg. A silky voice sounds from behind his broad shoulders, accompanied by an immaculately shaped set of nails sweeping across his collarbone. The woman who was glaring earlier. She lowers to his ear. “Can I offer you relief, my prince? Since this one cannot?”
It’s hushed, but you were meant to hear it.
Loki doesn’t even look at her; his fingers stay curled around your wrists. “No,” he says through gritted teeth. She slinks away and the flames licking up your belly burn brighter. The meat of his thigh muscle stills, and the ache of its absence makes you frott against his knee.
“Talk to me,” he commands with an air of finality, chin lowering. “Tell me what you like, what you want.” Even if he let go of your arms, that stare would pin you in place. Every inch the prince; every inch the god – even in the middle of a daylight orgy.
“I want your mouth on me,” you whisper; squirming beneath his mischievous smirk. “I want it…slow, then heavier…then slower.” “Slow?” Loki hums, titling his head. That tongue darts over his lips. “And firm, but…soft. Wet. And loud…I want to hear you taste me.” Gods’ bones, has anyone ever been this ineloquent? But Loki doesn’t seem to mind. His face tells you he knows exactly what you mean; exactly how you like it. He’s imagining it, just as you are.
Your eyes dart to his crotch and the thick outline of his manhood strains against heavy creases. His hips shift, a small hiss filling the air between you. “What else?” he asks in a breathless voice that’s so unlike him. You bite your lip as his stare falls down your chest - flimsy drapes of silk threatening to expose your breasts. You wonder if he’ll let go of your wrists. And if he can control himself if he does. “And I want your cock, too…obviously.” “Obviously…” he goads with the spectre of a smile. The god leans forward, nudging the silk aside with his nose and capturing a nipple with a firm suck. Loki’s thigh begins to shift against your pussy again, and a strangled moan rattles in your throat. The groans of the men fucking a few meters away reach crescendo and they tumble over the edge in a sweaty, groaning slip of sex.
“I want you everywhere,” you gasp, losing any shred of remaining modesty with the smear of your heat against his leathers. “My cunt, my mouth, my ass—” “—Like them?” he stammers, thick brows drawn together. “—Like them. I want you so deep inside me I forget my own name, want your skin smacking my shoulders, want you pulling me onto your cock as you fuck me like I’m in heat and you can’t control it—” “—More,” Loki gasps, and your eyes fly open. His face is twisted with furious need, lines deep in his forehead, strands of onyx hair buffeting at his lips. His thigh slips against your slit – it’s absolutely soaked, and his hands tremble where he’s holding you in place. The words that shape your lips are calculated in their depravity: aimed to kill. “I want your cum dripping between my thighs; dripping between my breasts…” At that, Loki groans. “I’ll lick it off myself…before I suck you clean, and swallow everything you have left…my prince.” Loki’s jaw slackens like the orgasm shattering him is an unseen foe with a knife to his neck. The jolt in his hips sends the thick thigh driving against your clit and you crumble right alongside him with a garbled cry of his name. He falls on top of you in a mess of ferocious need; lips working, breath gasping from your lungs and the beat of his heart strong against your ribs. But still, his hands don’t leave your wrists.
“You are a wonder,” he breathes, galaxies swimming in his pleasure-drunk stare. And for a moment, you forget that you’re a means to an end; that after the Rite you’ll go back to being a nobody - and you believe him.  
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Loki barely has his wits back when someone clears their throat at the door. “Your brother - Prince Loki.” “My what?” “Your brother, the crown prince. He’s outside.” “Nine hels. What does he want?” Loki didn’t wait for the man to respond – he’d save the wretch that particular misery, and Loki’s misery at having to listen to the bluster of his explanation. He dips to your cheek, drawing his nose down the line of your cheekbone, inhaling against your sweat-damp skin. “I’ll return shortly,” he whispers. And below him, you shiver. A thrill spreads in sharp veins under his flesh. Loki strides past the guard looking at the ceiling while his cheeks flush an alarming shade of scarlet – and the door shuts quickly behind them. Thor stands with his arms folded, one ill-groomed eyebrow rising as he says, “Are the reports true? That your Rite partner is in there?” Loki can’t contain the eye-roll. “If you think I’m so foolish as to compromise myself at the eleventh hour before my ascension to the royal line; then truly there is no hope for you, brother. And she has a name, you know.” Thor’s gaze drops sceptically to his thigh. “What’s that?” He gestures to the glistening slick down one of the leather-clad quad muscles. Norns. “It’s not breaking the rules, I checked.”
With a flick of his fingers, the slick evaporates. And even though he’s sure (almost, sure), Loki rubs his fingertips together. Nothing. He breathes a secret sigh of relief. It would just be like Thor to ruin everything without actually intending to. “Of course you did, Loki. How studious of you.” “Can you spell that?” He snorts. “Besides, your partner was Lady Sif – you had centuries to cultivate the bond. And father and mother were partners…it’s a completely different situation. I must do what I must within the confines of the ceremonial rules.” “And whose fault is that, Loki? You could’ve had your pick of partners had you not rutted through them in a jamboree of wine and carnal gluttony.” Loki’s lip twitches, and he sucks the bottom one between his teeth. “I couldn’t have selected better if I’d had the centuries to spare, actually. Not all of us need hundreds of years to woo someone.”
The bemused crunch of Thor’s brow makes a flutter of satisfaction blossom in his chest. “I assure you, brother – all aspects of the Rite of Successional Pleasure will be fulfilled, I’m sure of it.” Thor's eyes narrow. “She’s been told of the second requirement?” “No, but I believe doing so will make it unnecessarily…challenging. She doesn’t need to know, she only needs to feel.” “You realise her feelings for you must come willingly. Un-influenced by magic?”
Loki glares, spine stiffening. “I shan't need to use my powers to wring pleasure from her body, why should I require it of her heart? Is that so hard to believe?” “In such a short amount of time? Yes, brother. I’ve known you over a millennia, and most days I still don’t care for you.” Loki’s fist flexes at his side as Thor, regrettably, continues. “The Rite is an expression of our benevolence to bestow pleasure on another freely, but it is also a test of our means to win their affections; their loyalty.” “And I will not fail,” he snaps. He and Thor stare at each other, unblinking, until his brother breaks first with a long, whittling sigh. “I hope you’re right, brother,” he says. “And be more careful, it would be unfortunate if you were to be undone by your own…passions, as usual.”
Heat prickles beneath Loki’s skin. “What would you know of my passions? Thor’s cape flutters as he turns, before glancing over his shoulder: ignoring him. “As much as it pains me, choosing Fandral as your partner for the Rite may be the wiser choice…it’s not too late. You know he already harbours those feelings for you – the deep ones the ritual requires. If there is any doubt, brother—”
“—There is no doubt,” Loki lies, fingernails digging in to the soft flesh of his palm. “I still have two moons until the ceremony– wars have been won in less.” He keeps his expression flat as Thor’s eyes soften. “If only love was as simple as war, brother,” he says in one of those rare displays of wisdom that make Loki want to punch him in the face. “She’s not one of us. I would say try not to break her heart, but it’s inevitable, is it not.” It isn’t a question. Loki swallows as his brother’s footsteps fade, glancing back to the golden door. He waves his hand, releasing the enchantment muffling the guard’s ears.
“Get her out of there,” he murmurs. “Escort her, offer my apologies; instruct her to change, and meet me in the gardens at sunrise.” "My prince, she will ask—" "—Sunrise," he snaps. A pain throbs behind his eyes.
The guard nods, and Loki tries to ignore the pulse of his heartbeat in his throat, and the unfamiliar itch of guilt spreading with every echoing thud of his boots around Asgard’s gilded halls.
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Next Chapter: Illusion & Truth The Masterlist for The Rite is HERE Comments in tags ❤️ Plz be silly with me 🍰🥳
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respectthepetty · 5 months
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Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.
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Joong plays Khao's older brother
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Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.
Dunk is playing the crazy seducer
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Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.
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And I respect that.
Jojo is apparently directing
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I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.
Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer
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I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.
First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV
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I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.
First and Khao tears
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This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.
DUNK'S BODY!
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Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!
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It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.
Oh, yeah, and the plot
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Sorry, I mean the plot.
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SHIT, THE PLOT!
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You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .
All will end well.
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Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*
So just know this show hit its target audience
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ME!
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¡Salud!
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maxwellatoms · 5 months
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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
Okey dokey.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.
The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.
Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.
A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.
I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.
Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.
Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
It's the only way to get anything done, currently.
The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".
It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.
There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.
Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)
The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.
Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.
Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.
I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.
Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?
You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.
To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.
I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.
Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.
I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.
The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.
The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.
---
So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.
Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.
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OMG RAVEN YOU’RE INTO EVER AFTER HIGH? I love it but can’t talk about it bc none of my friends have seen it 😭 I wish it was talked about more, especially with how deep their lore runs. I love EAH’s dynamics with the complexities of destiny. If twst followed the same logic as eah’s world it would be so interesting. How would you feel if the worlds were to mesh together and how it would work? You can interpret that in any way you want; the characters meeting or twst being bound to the same rules and societal expectations of eah, or whatnot.
Also who’s your favorite eah character compared to your favorite twst character (Leona)?Jade, right?
And have you read the eah books? I haven’t, but I’m going to try to sometime!
Eah alt account when?
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I'm still salty that the Monster High x Ever After High crossover movie never saw the light of day-- Part of the reason why I don't like Disney (I mean the faceless corpo, not all Disney products) is because they have such a strong association with fairy tales that it pushes other interpretations out of the market or it leads to people assuming Disney "owns" those fairy tales. Ever After High's lore and themes run so much deeper than most other fairy tale reimaginings I've seen (and I've seen a lot). It's such a shame it doesn't get the respect and recognition it deserves even though EAH is the one out here challenging the status quo whereas modern Disney is content with mediocrity that appeals to the masses.
I think EAH and TWST, at their cores, share similar ideas so combining them would work well. Friendship, self-identity, defining your own future, questioning what "good" and "evil" truly are... It's all there. I'd imagine that if Twisted Wonderland (or at least NRC) followed the same rules as EAH, then everyone would be descendants of their Disney counterparts. (This is actually a common misperception of what TWST was to new fans; people mistakenly believe the TWST characters are children of the classic Disney villains. This has never been canon.) Unfortunately, I'd have to take away the Disney villains being twisted to be "good" guys in Twisted Wonderland's world in order for this to work by EAH rules, so... There's that to consider. This, in turn, can result in the student body splitting into Royals (pro-following one's destiny) and Rebels (anti-following one's destiny). Perhaps RSA and NRC could be one school in this AU...? Just so we have a mix of "good" and "evil" descended children in the same vicinity as one another. A must-have are the constantly bickering Narrators!! It's only really when Yuu shows up that the majority opinion starts to shift. Maybe then Crowley becomes concerned with students rising up and fighting back against the system that relies on them being complacent to keep the cycle of stories going. I've seen some readings of EAH which theorize that Royals guaranteed a happy ending is a stand-in for privilege, and that interpretation leads into very interesting conflicts when we also consider that magic in Twisted Wonderland is a privilege afforded to few.
To cover just the dorm leaders (because covering all the TWST characters would make this post way longer), I definitely see Riddle, Kalim, Idia, and Malleus as Royals and Leona, Azul, and Vil as Rebels. Here's my thought process:
Riddle is pretty self-explanatory. He comes from a background where he's used to being told what to do by his mother and so he also heavily relies on her strict, unyielding teachings to play by the book when he goes out there in the real world. Riddle is inflexible and hesitant to go against the grain--and, more importantly, he fully believes that following the rules will lead to his happiness... that doing as his fairy tale ordains will lead to a happy ending. What happens to the Queen of Hearts is dubious in the end since it's framed as Alice's dream, so I think that vagueness gives Riddle hope that by behaving himself, he'll earn the happiness he desires.
Leona is a Rebel, and not just because that's the aesthetic of his dorm. Being that he is highly intelligent and demonstrates a lot of foresight, he'd be aware of what future is in store for him and aggressively fighting against that. It would make him more desperate than ever to prove his worth, because not only does everyone see his powers as terrifying, but they also see him as a future brother murderer and dictator that will bleed the land dry of resources. It'd make the situation with his family even more strained than it already is, not to mention the extra jealousy he must feel toward Cheka, who is still too young to understand what's going to happen later.
Azul is someone who acts like a Royal but is actually a Rebel. He acts polite and like he plays by the rules, but clearly he doesn't behind the scenes. I see Azul as the kind of Rebel akin to Duchess Swan... as in, he believes he can steal away someone else's destiny for himself. Azul would constantly be looking for loopholes to save himself. He's put way too much stock into becoming a better, stronger person and he'd want to defend this new life he has made for himself. His obsession with protecting his contracts could translate well here.
Kalim is a Royal because he's mega rich and has been sheltered from the concept of bad things that happen to normal people; he has nothing to worry about. It also helps that Kalim is twisted from a character that doesn't meet a bad ending. I think he'd be aware of Jami's doomed destiny, but Kalim is so ignorant that he thinks it'll just be fine and it'll work itself out. Part of his growth could be being forced to reckon with the reality that Jamil is suffering under the legacy assigned to him and accepting the role that he plays in that by not acting.
Idia is a Royal--or at least pre-book 6 Idia is. He's a very pessimistic guy and repeatedly expresses hopelessness about the future, bemoaning the curse he and his family have to bear. Idia doesn't want to try to fight his fate, he's already accepted that it will happen and so closes himself off from others to save himself that heartbreak. Post-book 6 Idia will have swapped over to the Rebel side thanks to Ortho reviving the hope in him.
Vil is a Rebel simply for the fact that he fights social conventions. He's already out here shattering gender roles, but finds it much harder to breach that expectation that villains are just villains and nothing more. Vil keeps getting rejected at every turn, told that it's impossible to rewrite his story, that his frustrations are the natural result of jealousy and an ugly heart that festers in side of him. He steels himself to prove that notion wrong, working himself to the bone to get up on that stage and stay on it, waiting to be lavished with praise that he truly is the fairest one of all. I feel this would be so fascinating for Vil's own arc about self acceptance; maybe he wears himself down emotionally because he HAS to basically be perfect due to his job but also denies himself normal feelings like anger and jealousy because confessing that you have such "ugly" feelings only validates that you're shallow just like the stories say you will be.
Malleus is a tough one, but I settled for Royal in the end. Maleficent is doomed to be slain by a sword, right? So am I saying that THE Malleus Draconia, who is infamously arrogant about his magical abilities, would lie down and take a stab like that? Of course not! However, I do think that Malleus is initially someone who values tradition and living up to noblesse oblige. As the future ruler of a nation, people's stories are relying on him to play his expected role out, which he'd be fully cognizant of. I also think Malleus would be afforded the luxury of not having to face his destiny as soon as his peers are due to his long life span. This is in part because the person destined to slay him doesn't come into his life for literally hundreds of years. Then when book 7 arrives, Malleus has to deal with his loved ones leaving and/or betraying him as well as the realization that this is his destiny: dying alone and unloved. That'd just break him.
ahdbiqwdbqwli I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS AU FOR FOREVER BUT I'LL CUT IT SHORT OR ELSE I'LL NEVER SHUT UP 😭
EAH has so many good characters and interesting storylines, it's hard for me to pick a favorite! I of course love Apple and Raven's dilemmas, but I feel like it's cheating to pick one of them as my favorite. The whole Wonderland gang is also fantastic... I'm a sucker for their aesthetic, but they're so fun and silly in general. Kitty, Lizzie, and especially Madeline are 👌
Mmm, when I think long and hard about it, I think my favorite EAH character has to be Briar Beauty, daughter of Sleeping Beauty. Firstly, I love all the pink, roses, and bramble in her design. Secondly, I love the layers to why she is the way she is. Briar's a party girl not because "lmao, wouldn't that be a funny haha subversion of Sleeping Beauty" but because she wants to live life up before she falls asleep for 100 years and literally loses all her friends and family to the natural passage of time. That's seriously so smart and such an inventive way to think about the trauma a descendant of Sleeping Beauty might have. Seeing Briar transition from one of Apple's besties and biggest supporters to an outright rebel is satisfying as heck. (Gotta take a moment to shout out this classic moment :3)
I don't know if I would compare Briar to Jade since they're entirely different characters. However, looking at the source material, I'm actually surprised I like Briar as much as I do since I have never cared for the story of Sleeping Beauty. A part of me finds this ironic since Malleus harbors a similar fear as Briar (losing loved ones) yet I see Malleus's desire as way more selfish and self-serving than Briar's. I believe that's because Briar doesn't have the same arrogance as Malleus, so I'm more forgiving with her. EAH's actual equivalent to Malleus is Faybelle, daughter of the Dark Fairy, but I don't like her as much as I do Briar (hence why I'm comparing Malleus and Briar, not Malleus and Faybelle).
I haven't read the EAH books but I want to one day! I'd prefer to borrow them since I don't have enough space in my room for more physical books, so as soon as I find copies at a library or something...
This blog has kind of become a place where I occasionally talk about my other interests, generally as it relates to TWST, my main interest. I'd like to keep it like this since managing multiple blogs can be so draining. It already takes quite a bit of time to regularly write responses to asks just on one blog!
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mushroomates · 1 month
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the fellowship grocery shopping (modern au!):
frodo: has a list which he always loses halfway through shopping. tries to bring his own bags but they’re never enough, or he forgets them in the car and realizes mid checkout. does not like a lot of the name brand foods, goes for the knock offs- partly because he thinks they taste better and partly because he’s rooting for the underdog. (also they’re cheaper which means more money go towards buying treats for the neighborhood cats.) makes an exception for name brand strawberry poptarts, a pippin favorite. keeps his fridge stocked with snacks for his friends.
sam: grows a lot of his own produce and makes an effort to shop local. has his own chickens and a thriving herb garden. he often trades with neighbors-tomatoes for honey, basil for goats milk, etc. once a month he teams up with boromir and goes to costco for insane amounts of flour (he bakes his own bread) and a foot long hotdog. sam refuses to get his own membership.
merry: has a list of things to get that he has worked very hard to compile. this list stays on fridge, and whenever he runs out of something he adds it. this is always sabotaged by pippin who, in a port attempt to mimic merry’s handwriting, adds a copious amount of sweets and things only pippin likes. ends up buying them anyways only to not share with him- will gloat by snacking in front of pippin and not offering any to his cousin.
pippin: does not actually grocery shop. yes, he has food in his house but this is more because he just tags along whenever someone else is going. selectively copies whatever they get into his own basket. has eight jars of peanut butter because he loves peanut butter but does not consume it at the rate he believes he does. also for backup, incase he runs out mid sandwich and needs eight jars of the stuff. loves to ride in the shopping carts when no one’s watching. definitely scooters along isles. loves to hijack boromir’s shopping trips as boromir is the only one who will push him in the cart and give him a lil treat at the end.
gandalf: kind of just. wanders around the store. gets lost in the bakery. buys the most random things, causing the clerks to conspire about what he’s doing with two packs of rubber gloves, a rosterseie chicken, and a tub of mayonnaise. is he a murderer? a professor? a single mother? what is he doing with this stuff?
aragorn: does a lot of trading with neighbors, like sam. likes to accompany arwen on errands and do the little things. she points at an item and he puts it in the basket. he bags at checkout. drives her home. unloads the car and put it away. real quality time and acts of service. yes, arwen is capable of doing these things herself, but he likes to do it for her: hunts so be always has a surplus of jerky, does need to buy more salt then the typical person.
boromir: also hunts. has a thing about using every part of the animal, will eat bone marrow straight out of the femur with a spoon for breakfast. eats a lot of protein. is real big about no food waste and will use everything he can. has his own compost bin and a humble herb garden. likes hosting barbecues for everyone, and makes the burgers and hotdogs from scratch. every other tuesday is grocery day. he goes to costco and buys his things in bulk. he’s the only one in the fellowship with a costco card and everyone loves to take advantage of it.
legolas: mainly just happens upon farmers markets and grabs what appeals to him in the moment. does not have any seasonings or cooking oil as it’s not something that’s ever really occurred to him to buy. will forget he has food in his fridge for weeks and when he finally does it’s gone bad. this, however, does not stop him from eating it. makes a lot of smoothies.
gimli: has a lot of preserved foods and a cupboard dedicated to emergencies. owns a lot of canned beans, fruits and vegetables- anything that will keep well. has a freezer filled with food in his garage with backup stock. is a very good with coupons- pippin likes going with him just to see the total (and the clerks jaw) drop. eats a lot of trail mix and jerky. enjoys fresh fruit when he can but doesn’t like to buy it because it doesn’t last.
gollum: sneaky little man. he hides in the bottom part of the carts meant for heavy items and parties his way across the store with his hands, scooting along tile and grabbing anything with reach, tossing it back up to the cart and continuing on his journey. then he just rolls right out the door. no one can stop him.
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come-see-our-show · 8 months
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I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!
Changed that I liked:
The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.
The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)
Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.
All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.
This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).
The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).
Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.
Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT
megan thee stallion just… being there
Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!
As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷
Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)
Changes that I didn’t like:
Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.
While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!
Other stuff:
The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.
Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!
The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me
The EDITING
Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs” because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.
Jon Hamm cameo!
Ashley Park cameo!
I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.
I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈
I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩
Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.
The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!
THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)
I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)
DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀
“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*
“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺
Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!
NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭
Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰
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concretecultist · 2 months
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Sunshine (muscle memory pt. 2)
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summary: "true love never leaves, sometimes it just gets lost temporarily. lost in pride and ego, lost in confusion and misunderstanding. but love being lost is never the end; sometimes love needs to breathe before it finds home again."
word count: 17.6k
pairing: reader x noah sebastian
warnings: angst, talks of mental health, feelings of guilt, mentions of marijuana usage, crying, dad!noah, FLUFF
THIS IS PURE FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!!!
A/N: yeah so idk how to write short stories really 😭 so this is a long one!! Please make sure to comment and reblog as it helps us writers out immensely!! Much love!
~Berry🫐
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“You’re so full of shit!,”
Matt had come back into town, rushing to tell Noah and the guys what had happened while he was out. Noah, Nicholas and Jolly were playing a video game on the big screen when Matt rushed in, Folio nodding in and out of sleep with a bag of chips in his hands after facing a whole blunt by himself.
“Bro, I know what I fucking saw,” Matt was seething, does Noah really think he would lie about something like this? “This wasn’t some Y/N doppelgänger, it was Y/N and she had a baby, a little girl.. who looks just like you might I add. It’s weird!,”
Noah felt like his stomach fell out of his ass. Matt has to be bullshitting. Maybe you were babysitting? There’s no way you had a baby. There’s no way he had a baby.
“It’s hard to tell who babies look like when they’re still that young. Maybe the guy who told you to go away was her new boyfriend,” Jolly tried to justify.
Matt frowned at Jolly’s disposition. Everyone in this room knew you like the palm of their hands. It took you a while to open up to Noah and become his girlfriend and even longer to open up to them to consider them playfully-annoying brothers.
“She’s not like that,” Nicholas clicked away at his controller, brows furrowing as he soaks in the conversation.
Matt clapped his hands and pointed to Nicholas as if to say that the point he made was based, and it was.
Nicholas continued speaking while keeping his eyes trained on the screen, absolutely obliterating the characters within the game, “I mean think about it. If what Matt is saying is true-,”
“And it is!,” Matt interjected but all Nicholas did was roll his eyes and continue speaking,
“-Then the time between Noah and Y/N breaking up versus now, would not be enough time for her to get pregnant by someone else,”
“One night stand after they broke up?,” Folio answered absentmindedly.
“You know damn well that’s not how Y/N is,” Matt just wanted to pull his hair out, “If you saw that baby then you guys would see I’m not lying,”
Noah felt like he might be sick. Even if you two broke up, you would tell him that you were pregnant… right?
But then again, the last few months of your relationship, he wasn’t there, emotionally nor physically so he can’t blame you if you didn’t. It doesn’t hurt any less though and he doesn’t know what to believe.
“Where the hell did you even see her? I figured she jumped ship,” Noah shrugged, “And even if this is the case, Matt. She blocked all of us on… o-on everything so how do you expect me to go about this?,”
The silence from the blond was enough of an answer for Noah but Matt’s silence didn’t mean he didn’t have one.
“Why are you so adamant on denying this?,”
“I’m not!,” Noah let his character go idle long enough for Nicholas to say fuck it and actually pause the entire game, “I just don’t know what to do! I mean, if she acted like she didn’t want to see you then what makes you think she’ll want to see me?,”
The guys knew Noah had a point, but he should still try.
“It’s Sunday. Every other Sunday she goes to the markets and you should know that because you would always be at the studio with Jolly so she would take me with her,” Matt stood there with his arms crossed, he watched the gears turn in Noah’s head but he knew the brunet still wasn’t getting it.
“Okay?,” Noah was stumped.
“Which means she still has her routines, dork!,” he tapped his fingers to his temple as if to tell Noah to ‘fucking think’
“Meaning on Wednesday, she’ll be at the actual grocery store getting what she couldn’t at the market,” Nicholas answered for Matt.
“Are we sure any of this is a good idea?,” Jolly probed, “If you guys ended mutually then one, why would she not tell you, two, why would she block all of us, and three, why would she act like that when seeing Matt?,”
Jolly, Matt and Nicholas had their suspicions about the breakup. Noah had told them it was pretty cut and dry but they could never get your side as you pretty much went off the grid.
“I don’t know!,” Noah held his hands up in frustration, “I don’t know why you guys are acting like I’m not blindsided here,”
“There’s only one grocery store within the town I saw her near. Don’t be on any stalker shit but I’ll bet you my fucking mixing equipment she’ll be there on a Wednesday at 4:45 before the after work rush comes,” Matt refuted.
It felt strange to Noah that all of his friends seemed to read you like a book, but when he thinks about you, you seem like a mystery. Maybe it’s because you had no choice but to become one after a while. It’s his fault you closed yourself off. You tried until you couldn’t yet Noah made your efforts seem pointless. Noah had neglected you, he became a stranger who wasn’t involved in your routines anymore and he’s had more than enough time to realize that after you left.
When you left it felt like his world had stopped. How did he fuck up so bad? Letting the voices in his head get to him, pushing you away with the idea that you’ll someday be with someone who deserves you. The demons in his head convinced him that he wasn’t that someone.
He let the weight of the world crush him. He let the brain fog cloud his vision, his judgment and now here he is, doing his best to get better. Now has the news that he may or may not be a father. He’s spooked by the idea. If he couldn’t be a good partner how does he expect you to let him in for a chance to be a good father… if he can find you that is? He’s petrified.
Except he knows damn well it doesn’t outweigh the panic you felt when he pushed you away, forcing you to go through it all alone.
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It had been about two and a half weeks or so since your run in with Matt and it has done nothing but prompted you to stay inside more than you already have been. Reid agreed to drop off your needed items and even stuck around to help around the house. He’s even brought Ms. Ernie by as she’s missed you.
You wanted to get out though. You missed going on walks around the woods, missed stepping foot on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t hide away forever and you really couldn’t do that to Noelle, she needed to see the outside world.
That’s how you found yourself in the supermarket in town with Ms. Ernie as she asked you what you wanted for dinner.
“I think some mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli will be good sides,” you suggested.
“Want gravy?,”
“No, I’m more of a butter and pepper kinda gal,” you lightly nudged her, patting Noelle’s bottom as she laid quietly in her baby wrap against your chest.
“You kids don’t appreciate good gravy anymore,” she playfully rolled her eyes.
This is something you really needed. Was this a friendship you expected to have? Absolutely not, still it helps you feel normal. You share your eggs from your chickens and she makes you milk and yogurt, she always invites you over for Wednesday dinner, you invite her over for a nice cool lunch while she’s on break from the truck.
“What do we want for dessert?,” you ask, looking at the array of fresh baked goods.
“Pick whatever you want, sweetie. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go look at the teas, I’m running low and I think they’re on sale!” she waved, taking the cart to go get her favorite brand of iced tea.
“What are we feeling, Sunshine?,” you lightly bounce, her hand reaching up to feel your cheek, “Do we want carrot cake, red velvet? Ouuu that caramel crumble apple pie sounds gooooood,”
You look at her, heart swelling while she just squeals and smiles at you. You never expected yourself to be a parent, a single parent at that- but smiling down at this face, with the cutest, chubbiest cheeks and big, animated eyes, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.
“I know, I think we should get all of them too,” you rub your nose against hers just to hear her babble again. You would never get tired of that sound, it became your favorite song.
“But!-” you open the cooler door and begin reaching, “-Mama is really craving the red velvet,”
Unfortunately for you though, it was on the top shelf and you just weren’t tall enough. You hear yourself grunt as you reach and honestly it’s rather embarrassing. You try again and see no one nearby to ask for help and you feel defeated. All you wanted was a nice piece of cake. Deciding to give up, you slap your hand down against your thigh and look to Noelle to pout at her, “I guess it wasn’t meant to be”
While you were looking at her, you were in your own world. Everything just seemed to stop when you peered into those eyes. Noelle nuzzled her cheek against the back of your finger as you caressed it. All you wanted was a nice dinner followed by eating cake while she slept on your chest, a nice night with you and Ms. Ernie competing against each other while watching a game show.
You were so caught up in adoring your daughter that you didn’t see the large hand that reached over your head to grab the cake you desired.
“Here you go,” a hopeful drone made its way into your ears.
You were so set on having a good night except when you looked up, your smile immediately fell and you were frozen. Your eyes seemed to deceive you because there was no way this was real. You had to be dreaming. There’s no way he’s standing in front of you.
Your body betrayed you. Everyone speaks of fight or flight and a part of you always believed that if you were in a situation where you had to choose, that you’d choose flight, not being the fighting type and opting to always run and hide. But… Now that you’re in a situation like this, there’s a third option many don’t acknowledge.
Freeze.
There’s fight.
There’s flight..
and then there’s freeze…
And you froze.
Your mind and body let you down. Your feet should be carrying your body as far away from his as possible but you just can’t move. You’re trying but they won’t budge.
That smile he shines isn’t helping either. It's an expression you want to wipe off his face but for some reason you can’t help but continue to stare because it’s a smile that you never expected to see again. It clicks that your mind is betraying you again because why are you finding comfort in it?
His eyes were tired but still so beautiful. You notice they hold hope as well as hesitation.
“You always did like red velvet,” he snickered but you didn’t find anything funny. What kind of sick joke is this?
“Get away from me,” you whisper. It sounded more confident in your head, you didn’t want to sound weak. Another bodily betrayal.
“I’m not here to scare you or hurt you. I just want to talk,” he caught a glimpse of the gorgeous baby in your wrap and his breath was taken away.
Matt was right and not just about the baby. But your routines. You never strayed far from your habits, so to see you walking in the store with your baby to your chest made this much more real than Noah could process at once. The poor guy doesn’t know if he’s relieved or scared shitless.
“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s not even yours,” your eyes flit as the tears fall down your cheeks. It felt like you were suffocating now. You know Matt spilled and really, you couldn’t blame him because if you were in Noah’s position, you’d want to be told as well. But then again.. you wouldn’t be in this position if you were him because you would’ve tried to save your relationship.
Being found so easily wasn’t something you planned and now you’re battling the feelings of wanting to slap him or run in his arms because while he hurt you- Noah was it for you. He was endgame. Seeing him stirred all these feelings inside that were now giving you vertigo, causing your stomach to swirl and a lump to form in your throat.
“Y/N, she looks just like me. There’s a lot to talk about,”
He tried to get another glimpse but you shielded her in the wrap. No, no way in hell. Taking a giant step back, you hold her closer, “I won’t let you take her away from me. She’s all I have, Noah. I won’t let you,”
Noah took a step forward and could only brandish defeat when you took yet another step back.
“I’m not trying to take her from you,” Noah knows he has no right to be offended. Like, let’s think- you two broke up and his best friend bumped into you, now Noah knows about his child and he found you in a random supermarket after you fought tooth and nail to stay away from him. It would make sense why you think he’d take her from you, but that’s far from what Noah wants. It’s a long shot but he wants to make this right.
Noah understands that he fucked up in the past but he wouldn’t do that to you, “That’s why I want to talk. I want a chance to be there,”
A scoff from you echoes in the empty aisle. How rich.
“You weren’t even there for me and you expect me to believe you’ll be there for her?,” You grit through your teeth, “She is too precious to be let down by you, Noah. Do it to me all you want but not when it comes to my daughter,”
A frown etched its way onto Noah’s face, waving his hands as if to say ‘wait, hold up’. He knows he hasn’t been there but he’s not about to be some deadbeat.
“Our… daughter,” he corrected, “You didn’t even give me a chance to know so I could be there,”
“You’ve got some fucking nerve!,” your voice had gone shrill and you were thankful that there was little to no people in the store. You wished he would have approached you outside, then you really wouldn’t have to worry about keeping your voice down.
“ ‘Our’ daughter, Noah? Really?! If you weren’t there before I was pregnant-,”
“I told you I just needed time,” he interjected, still holding onto that sentiment.
“I gave you four years!,” you spat, “Four years of me, Noah. I gave you four years to learn how to love me. To learn how to communicate even up until the end,”
Who knows how much time he would have needed. Who knows if he’d have even gotten his shit together by the time you found out you were with child and gave birth. Having Noelle now, you know for certain you couldn’t have just sat with idle hands.
“Y/N please,” he begged, still holding the cake in his hands, “I love you and I fucked up. It’s been killing me since the day you left and how I never had to chance to make it right, then Matt told me-”
“Matt is wrong. Matt doesn’t know what he’s talking about!,” you really weren’t trying to make a scene here and you were still trying to convince Noah that Noelle wasn’t his.
“She has my eyes, Y/N. She’s a perfect mix of you and me. Please, just, can we talk about this over coffee. I know you don’t owe me anything but can we meet for lunch or something?,”
Before you could answer with a fat ass denial, Ms. Ernie is coming up with her noisy cart, scooting along with a small frown on her face.
“They done moved my tea, I had to ask for help,” she frowned. She was never the type to like asking for help in stores, she liked it when things were easy to find.
She moves to stand beside you, waiting for your response but then she notices the look of shock you’re wearing and meets Noah’s eyes. It took her a second before she gawked, looking to Noelle and back to Noah.
“That’s that baby’s daddy!,” she looks over her glasses and you loudly sigh at her statement. She didn’t always read the room well.
“Ms. Ernie!,”
“Sorry, honey but it’s undeniable,” she shrugs, looking back to Noah, “You gonna put that cake in my cart or just stand there looking pretty,”
Noah stammered before rushing to set the cake down in the cart and turning to you. Words seem to catch in his throat, not exactly sure what to say.
“I know you blocked us all on everything so just… reach out when you’re ready. I really would like to talk about all of this,”
“I gotta go” Looking to Ms. Ernie so that she would get the hint to start walking. You knew you were in for a long night of her lectures, no matter how insightful they always were, you weren’t ready.
You had a feeling for how the night would go now. This feeling had your stomach queasy as if you’re on a boat, feeling the waves rock you to and fro. It was hard to face the music but she was going to make you. That’s just how Ms. Ernie was, you just weren’t ready for her to be right about it all.
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“Give him a chance, sweetie,”
Noelle was fast asleep while you leaned on Ms. Ernie’s shoulder, eating your cake and watching Wheel of Fortune. You wanted your night to go just like this but it wasn’t enjoyable, not with all that was plaguing your mind.
“I can’t let him back in,” you think about it, recalling how bad it hurt you the first time around, “Now that Noey is involved, I can’t let my guard down. I’m a mom now, I have to protect her,”
“I’m not saying throw your whole hand in,” she sipped her tea, “Have a drink with him. I can call Reid to help me with our cute lil plum,”
It wasn’t a secret to how badly you were emotionally wounded when you and Noah parted ways, but it also wasn’t a secret to Ms. Ernie just how bad you love him. From the day you met her, she claimed you and Noah would find your way back to each other. You always told her it was a fat chance. Even now, your heart was playing tug of war.
Do you stay away? Leaving him to wallow in his bad decisions? or do you lean into the possibility of mending things?
“I never stopped loving him, that’s why I’m scared,” you sit up to look at her, she looked so noble when looking at you over her glasses like that, “I watched him love me less and less until our love just became an empty shell. I watched him pick his job over me and I can’t put her through that,”
Ms. Ernie reached over to wipe your tears when she caught sight of your trembling chin. It was comforting, like a grandma tending to her grandchild while they experienced a melancholic mood.
“Take it slow. Take time to get to know the new him and he can take the time to get to know the new you,”
“Does he deserve that though?,”
“Mmm,” she shrugged, “Sometimes a lot of good can come out of a second chance. What if you and him were meant to part ways, only so you two could find each other again?”
“Love shouldn’t come to that, no?,” a twinge of confusion worming its way into your tone
“Oh honey. You’ve got a lot to learn about love,” she lightly swatted your leg, “No amount of time and space can separate you from those that are meant to be in your life. This is a second chance to create a new story,”
You called it. You knew she was gonna get all philosophical on you and be right about all of this.
“Don’t rush into it but…” she sighed, “Give it a shot,”
You don’t even know if you were strong enough to lift the metaphorical gun to give it a shot. Pondering her words each bite at a time while you finish your treat, how do you go about this without immediately falling in love with him again? He was so easy to love even when you didn’t want to, even in his faults. One look at him and it felt like the first day you met him.
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You were standing at the bus stop one day, sighing at having to take public transportation as your anxiety has been in overdrive since your car was in the shop. Public transportation meant a lot of people in close quarters and you just couldn’t handle that right now.
In the midst of your mind being in a flurry, a group of rowdy men are approaching. You’re too caught up in trying to reduce your apprehension to notice them getting closer until a nameless man bumps into you, knocking your token out of your hand.
Watching it fly from your hand, floating in mid air, all you can do is try to catch it but it just wasn’t your day. Your token falls down the street drain and your gasp causes the rowdy group to stop.
“No! No, no, no, no noooo!,” you fall to your knees and look down the drain to see the token shining up from the bottom. It was mocking you.
“Dang it!,” your head falls in your hands, wallowing in embarrassment. The token station was 9 blocks away, there was no way you’d make it there and back in time. Of course the transit app wasn’t working on your phone either, you’d been telling yourself to get a new phone carrier for months now, now look at you.
“I’m… so sorry!,”
Removing your head from your hands, your eyes move in the direction in which the voice came. Your breath is instantly taken away once again but for a whole other reason.
“I can pay for another token,” he offers, helping you up, his large hands grasping your biceps to get you up right.
“No it’s okay I can-,”
“Please. It’s the least I can do,” the tall brunet insisted. Your words are caught in your throat, eyes trying to drink in his beauty before he becomes only a memory.
“Nice going, Noah!,” a tall blond wearing a hat pushes him.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” another chuckled, he was also decked out in tattoos, gorgeous black hair and glittering eyes.
But your eyes were on the inked man in front of you, the one who made your day even more of a rollercoaster than it already has been. While his friends make fun of him, your eyes are tracing over his tattoos, you’d never seen so many on one body in person before.
“Is… is that a Garden of Eden reference?,” you point to his neck.
He touches his throat and chuckles, a noise that you weren’t aware would change your life.
“Yeah, yeah it is,”
“It’s nice,” you mutter, afraid to speak above a certain octave. You don’t talk to people much, you were only a lonely librarian who went to work, staying in the basement all day to organize books and then go home.
“Thanks…?” he trails off but points to you ask if to ask you a question
“Y/N,” you spill out, “M-my name is Y/N,” you anxiously stick out your hand for him to take and shake, “I think he just called you Noah?,”
“Yeah that’s me,” his smile… my God his smile was hypnotizing. His smile could cure all sadness
“You owe me a bus pass,” you point out, “A-and… and I can pay you back over a cup of tea and some fresh scones at my favorite bakery downtown,”
Your confidence not only caught him off guard, but you as well. You’d never suggest something like that to someone and now you’re overthinking the fact that you’ve made such a fool of yourself.
“Sorry that was… that was abrasive and demanding. That was so rude. Y-you were just being nice and I just… you’re just so pretty and oh my God… Y/N shut up-,”
“Hey,” he softly talked over you, wanting to calm you down without scaring you.
“We’ll stick around until the bus comes so I can pay for your pass and we can trade numbers to set up a date for those scones,”
A date… a DATE?! You’ve only ever been on a handful of dates before and they all went terribly. Surely he didn’t mean like… a date-date, right? Like, you’re sure he just meant a little meetup so you could actually pay him back.
“O-okay!,” wide eyed, you nod your head and look around to his friends that are smiling and laughing and you don’t know if they’re laughing at you. It’s okay if they are, you’re used to it.
“Don’t mind them. They’re assholes,”
“We are not!,” a shorter man punches his arm, “I’m Nick by the way, but you can call me Folio. That’s Jolly, Nicholas, Matt, Davis and Bryan!,”
You nod to them all, making a note of their names.
“Y/N,” you sputter, “I’m Y/N,”
“We heard,” Jolly smiled.
“Right,” you give a bashful smile and turn from them to sit on the bench, “The buses are running 20 minutes late today so you really don’t have to wait,” you set your book in your lap.
“I insist. If these jerks are in a rush, they can go without me,” Noah throws a hand back at them. He’s not surprised that that’s exactly what they did.
They left Noah there, giving you two the chance to talk about the most random things, like your favorite book genres to read, things on your bucket list, aliens, paranormal shit. Just fun things. This is the most you’ve talked to any stranger you’ve ever met, you don’t even talk to your co workers like this.
Noah let you yap about your interests, he admired the way you animated your speech with your hands. He was absolutely enamored with the way you bounced in your seat when he brought up a topic that excited you and he made a mental bookmark so he could memorize the way your eyes close when you laugh.
Noah didn’t believe in love at first sight but this felt like it.
While discussing your favorite twilight characters, the noise of the approaching bus pulled you from your conversation, Noah can see how your face dropped. Your conversation went by too quickly.
“We can have more conversations like this,” Noah shows you his screen, displaying his number and you curse to yourself, knowing he can see you shaking while you hurry to type it into your phone. Your heart was beating out of your chest, he is so sweet and so fricken cute and his tattoos are so cool and he just sat here to talk to YOU?! No one ever just talks to you.
He’s even nice enough to help you onto the bus and get you seated before saying his saddened farewells to leave you. His demeanor gave off reluctance and you felt like you were in a rom-com when he stood outside the bus, waving as it began rolling away.
Your face was hotter than hell, there’s no way any of that just happened. Your phone felt heavy in your hands, demanding to be opened. Gnawing at your lip, your fingers dance on your screen, trying to figure out what to say.
You went with a simple text, something quirky. Something that you hope he’ll answer to and not ghost you after the way you opened up to him so easily.
“So… about those scones?”
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All those memories flood back and you can feel the dampness of your face. Where did that Noah go?
How did your once grey world that become so colorful so quickly with his presence, fade into grey once more with his absence in the blink of an eye?
What happened to him that he became so detached? What was lying beneath the surface that he let fester until he let it impact your relationship?
You feel Ms. Ernie takes the plate away from you and rests her hand on your cheek, pulling you out of the pit you were digging with your overactive questioning.
“I got the spare bedroom ready for ya, go get some rest,”
Taking her advice, Noelle snuggled into you as you carried her to the spare room where Ms. Ernie had set up a spare bassinet. You had tucked her in, making sure she was safe and secure before plopping down on the bed with a large sigh, heels of your palms pressing into your eyes to subdue your flowing tears. Now that you were alone, the weight of everything came down.
Tired of feeling so scatterbrained, you grabbed your phone, tapping away at the screen to have your thumb hovering over his name. Was this a good idea? Do you give in this easily? Would this be healthy for your mental state right now? Maybe Matt was right, this wasn’t about you, this was about Noelle, she deserved her dad, right?
But what about protecting her? You didn’t want to introduce him into her life just for him to turn around and jump ship when things got too hard.
Here goes the vicious cycle of overthinking and all the possibilities that made themselves known with the heaviness, giving you no other choice but to feel it filling up your chest. How soon did you want to do this? Did you even want to do this at all?
You’ve been blaming yourself since that day at the market. Had you gone earlier like you always do, you wouldn’t have bumped into Matt, or if you had paid attention, you could have avoided him. There were so many outcomes the universe shuffled in its hand and yet the card you were dealt was the situation you were facing right now.
Finally having enough of your own inner dialogue, a deep breath escapes you when clicking on his contact, closing your eyes when hitting Unblock Caller
Just like the day you met him, you’re faced with the challenge of what to say, except this time there was nothing cute or quirky to say. It was simple and serious.
Tomorrow 12pm at the bakery downtown.
That’s all you could come up with before pressing send. It’s almost like he was waiting by his phone, waiting for you to reach out and it makes you kick yourself. What if this is a set up and you’re falling into his plan.
Wait, no.
Noah has messed up but, He wouldn’t do that… would he? He wouldn’t hurt you any further. You hope you’re right because now this is happening.
I’ll be there.
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Sleep fought you all night. In and out of sleep to either tend to Noelle or simply because your mind wouldn’t power down for the night. When you were finally able to get some shut-eye, it was like it was already time for the sun to rise.
Ms. Ernie had breakfast ready for you after you fed Noelle, scooting around her quaint kitchen humming the tune of a classic she grew up listening to. Your nerves were bad as you thought of the day ahead.
“So, what are your plans today?,” she questions.
Slowly chewing your food, your eyes avert down to the table. Why do you feel so embarrassed to admit that you’re meeting him today despite her calling it?
“I uhm, I was going to ask if-,”
“Yes. Reid is already on his way,” the elderly woman delivered a smug expression, she’s been on Earth long enough to know how young love works.
You chuckle at her and shake your head, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask,”
“Baby, I can read you like a book. You’re gonna go see him. I could tell before you went to bed last night. We’ve spent enough time together for me to know you’re not over him,”
Knowing this fact made you feel an ounce of shame. You should be over him. He showed his ass last year yet you’re not sure if the alarm bells that are going off in your head are due to actual warning or if they’re sounding off because you can’t seem to do anything other than overthink. It’s a terrible habit and an even more terrible predicament to be in.
“Am I jumping into this?,” you rub Noelle’s back absentmindedly, enjoying the weight of her in your arms to ground you. Maybe you should have given it a couple days. Did it seem desperate to message him so soon? You were supposed to hate his guts
“It was going to have to happen at some point, dear,” she shrugs while cleaning the kitchen, “You’ve left some bricks of milk in the freezer, you’ve left some spare bottles, diapers, all that. With Reid here to help me she’s in good hands times 2,”
Almost as if she had summoned him, Reid knocks and enters through her front door, a bright smile on his face that you’ve come to learn really helps calm you down. You were thankful for the connections you’ve made since being on your own.
These people were your village and you were in good hands, meaning Noelle was too.
“Gooooooood morning!!,” he claps, hugging Ms. Ernie before moving to you to steal a piece of bacon off your plate. Reid hugs you as well, taking Noelle from your arms.
“I can’t forget you, sunshine!,” he holds her up in the air and she screams in excitement, dropping her head on his chest when he pulls her in.
Ms. Ernie could tell your nerves were getting the best of you, it’s happened enough times to know that spaced out look on your eyes.
“Finish eating and get ready. You can take my car,” she scoots around the kitchen to set her keys on the counter.
“I can call an Uber” not wanting to impose
“Nonsense!,” she waves her hand with a frown, “Your car is back at the cabin, my car doesn’t get much use cause I always take my truck. It’s not a problem,”
Reid sits beside you and rubs your back as a means of comfort, it’s written all over your face that you’re distraught, you never did master your poker face.
“Hey, you got this,”
You drop your head on the table and can feel the tears welling once more.
“Am I stupid for letting him in so easily?,” the familiar knot was forming in your throat, warning that tears would soon begin to fall if you didn’t pull yourself together, “He literally told me he didn’t love me like he used to, then last night says he never stopped. It’s hurting my head. I went about year without him and now I’m going to meet him and I’m terrified,”
“Y/N,” Reid began, “How do eat an elephant?,”
You turn to him and frown at his question. But this is Reid, you know he’s about to say something corny.
“How?,”
“One bite at a time,” he comforts, “It’s okay to feel nervous. It’s okay to overthink all of this and it’s okay to think about the cons. But what if this turns into something good?,”
“It was supposed to be something good the first time,” you hiccup. It’s just tearing you apart all over again to think about what could have been if he’d tried harder back then. You could have been a happy family instead of going through this.
“But then I guess I wouldn’t have met you guys,”
“Exactly. Everything happens for a reason,” Ms. Ernie interjects, “But if you get back with him, you better not forget us,”
Her words were jaw dropping, you know she was saying it as a joke but there was a twinge of truth in them. You all have gotten so close and it would crush her if you left and never looked back.
“I would never dream of it,”
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You arrived at the bakery an hour early. Your thoughts wouldn’t slow down unless you did and your nerves were on fire the closer it got.
Maybe this was a bad idea. No… this definitely was a bad idea, right? This bakery brought so many memories. What kind of self torture is it to recommend meeting at the place you two had your first date?
It’s 12 now and he’s still not here. Your chest starts to ache and you don’t know if stress is the cause or if it’s because you knew this was too good to be true.
The reality of having a baby scared him off. He wasn’t ready to be a parent. He’s a big shot rock star, sitting here with the realization made it click that he’s not ready to give that up. He loved his job too much.
It was now 12:06 and there was still no sign of him. You weren’t going to text him, he shouldn’t need a reminder, especially because he never followed up today.
Exhaling mournfully, you gather your belongings, standing up to leave when you hear the bell to the front door and heavy, pattering feet-
“I’m here!!,” panting, hands on his knees as he gets to the table, “I’m here! Accident blocked off the highway- had to take a detour- sped here, no parking. Had to park 2 blocks away so I ran,” he slid into the booth, running a hand through his hair to calm down.
His face was cherry red, chest rising and falling quickly, he looked beat. You don’t say a word, you just slip him your water and he whispers his gratitude just as he chugs it, taking a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“I don’t have her here with me,” a monotonous tone leaves you.
He nods, taking a second to compose himself, trying to get his heart rate down so that he could have a calm conversation.
“I expected that,” leaning back in his seat, his eyes settle in on you and you start to feel self conscious, “You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,”
“Noah,”
“No, I know I fucked up, Y/N. Trust me, no one knows more than me,” he leans his elbows on the table, dipping his head to catch your eyes that way you can see he was being honest, “I’ve kicked myself in the ass ever since then,”
“I can’t just let you back in, Noah,”
“And I don’t expect you to,” his hand comes to his lips, pressing on them as he thinks, “Everyday I thought about you and what I could have done better. I have therapy now, I learned better coping mechanisms. I know that’s something I should have done before I got that bad, but I didn’t just do it for you I did it for me because I wasn’t treating myself the nicest either,”
Maybe you should have taken a page out of his book and gotten help, but with being a single parent, you didn’t really have time for that.
“I loved you and I still do. You said that you probably weren’t the one for me but you’ve got it so wrong,”
His words reverberate off the walls of your ear canal. This is why all of this is confusing. If he was going through something mentally, why wasn’t he honest instead of shattering you to pieces?
“You’re just saying that because there’s a baby in the picture,” you accuse.
“Ask Matt… ask Nicholas even. This has been going on since the day you left. Finding out about our daughter only solidified it even more that I want a life with you,”
There’s no way this is genuine.
“Noah, I can’t just trust y-,”
“I know. You set the pace, I will respect that,”
There.
Those words started to chip away at the walls that you’d built up. They must not have been very thick, or very strong. Or maybe Noah just had that ability.
“Do you… can I see pictures of her at least?,” He asks as if he’s nervous almost, “I get it if you don’t want to I just-,”
A part of you wanted to tell him no. You didn’t want to reveal her to him just yet. He should work a little harder to prove that he’s legitimate in his stance. A few words shouldn’t grant him this opportunity. Nevertheless, your iced out attitude began melting at his expression, showing him a couple pictures wouldn’t hurt.
“No I can,” you open your phone to your camera roll, having a whole album of her. You’ve taken pictures of her since the day you had her. She’s a beautiful baby and you suppose he could see pictures of his own child, he’s missed out on enough, hasn’t he?
“This is when she was born. I did a water birth,” you show him a picture of you holding her, umbilical cord still attached, “My medical staff was great,”
Then you slid through the album showing him other pictures absolutely adoring your daughter and how cute she is
“This is the first time she smiled at me,” you look at him and you can see the sparkle in his eyes as he stares at the screen. There was a gentle smile on his lips, registering in his mind that this little human was a piece of him.
“She’s a sweet baby. Doesn’t really cry, she’s a squealer when she laughs,”
You play videos of her giggling and babbling and he is instantly in love, seeing this look on his face stirs a guilt inside of you that you never felt before. Maybe he should have known. Things could have been resolved by now had you not been selfish.
But there’s that nagging little voice telling you that you deserved to be selfish at least once in your life. It felt like your mind was in a blender.
“What’s her name?,” he looks to you hopefully. Were you ready to give him that information? It’s silly but the more he knows, the easier it will be for him to tear down the walls you built around yourself. It’ll make it easier for him to weasel his way into the picture again and you weren’t sure yet if you wanted to keep this a co-parenting arrangement or what.
“You don’t have to tell me right now,” he sees the hesitation on your face.
“Noelle,” you answer softly, “Her name is Noelle. I named her after you. But we also call her Sunshine, Plum or Noey, that one’s new,”
He broke out in the brightest smile you’d ever seen. You missed that smile, those beautiful lips framing his beautiful teeth. It was a smile that once brought you peace that is now bringing confusion.
“That’s…,” he gives a breathy chuckle, using his fingers to press into his eyes to keep the tears at bay, “That’s lovely,”
“Yeah, look at who her mom is,” you flip your hair as a joke and suddenly the tension isn’t as heavy. You’re supposed to be icy right now but the hopeless romantic within you is fighting the broken-hearted girl. One could only guess who is winning.
“Yeah, exactly,” Noah is seen getting nervous as the conversation progresses, he doesn’t know what questions are off limits, “So what are you up to these days? You’re not at the library anymore,”
“You looked for me at the library?,” you frown. You left that place a long time ago.
“I sat out on the bench everyday for at least three months before we had to leave for tour,”
Why couldn’t he give you that energy before? Where he used to meet you outside on the bench after you got off, sometimes with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and sometimes with your favorite take out and you’d have little date nights on the library bench. Why did that flame have to die?
Was life about to present you with new, better tools? Improved ways to bring it back? To make it a raging forest fire that can’t be put out? A lover like you can only hope.
“I work from home. With finding out about Noelle I needed something relaxed, I’m still in the field of library science. I work as an analyst,”
His eyebrows perked up, just like the first time you two ever met when you told him what you did for a living. His interest now was a big 180 from last year.
“Y/N that’s.. that’s amazing,” he leans forward, prompting you to talk about it more. You go on and on about your job, about how cool it is to you and he sat there and listened. Not once did he break eye contact, he interacted with the conversation and it felt like things were how they used to be.
“How’s the Bad Omens life?,” you ask, finally getting winded from talking about yourself.
Noah plasters a look of pride on his face. You wanted so badly to keep up with them but that would do you a disservice while trying to mend what was hurting you.
“It’s great! We’re blowing up, so many more places we can tour now, merch sales are off the hook. We have a new one dropping soon and I uh… I designed one for Noelle, I’ll just need her size,”
His words caught you off guard. How does he have something planned for her already?
“Noah,” he’s got you swooning so easily. This was your Noah.
Snap out of it, Y/N!
If he’s serious, make him work for it.
“I think it’s pretty cute! Nicholas and I brainstormed on it together, it’s a Bad Omens x Noelle exclusive,”
The laughter that escaped you was a melody Noah thought he’d never hear again. When it dies down, his mouth begins to itch with a question he’s been wondering for a long time now.
“Are you,” he clears his throat, “Are you seeing anyone?,”
Your eyes flicker at his question, adjusting in your seat. Snatching the cup of water that was on the table, looking him in his eyes when you set it down after a sip.
“I told you,” tongue in cheek, playing with your fingers to ease your mind, “I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with anyone else. You were it for me,”
You search his eyes, wanting to cry for the sole basis that you never thought you’d see them again. They were the eyes you looked to whenever you were desolate, excited, or livid. No matter what you were feeling you could simply look at him and he was always there, until he wasn’t.
“I meant it when I said I loved you and you fucking sat there and told me that you didn’t love me like you used to,”
“I don’t know why I said that-,”
“It gutted me,” anguish covers your face like a mask, trying to keep yourself from crying while that night replays in your mind like a movie, “You just sat there like it didn’t even hurt you,”
“It hurt me like you wouldn’t believe,” he persisted
“So why didn’t you try?,” your lip hurts from biting it so hard, if you don’t stop it’ll bleed soon enough, “I gave you so much of me, even up until I couldn’t, when I had nothing left and you just… sat there!,”
“I was an idiot,” he admitted, “I fucked up when I decided to love my career more than anything. I messed up when I let it weigh me down,”
“I don’t care that you loved your career, Noah. I cared whether you showed up for us or not. You did until you became complacent,”
“I know I didn’t,” he answers, “I know I didn’t try hard enough. I know I gave up too quickly and those decisions have been haunting me every fucking day. I know I made this bed but I don’t wanna lie in it anymore,”
Taking a napkin from the table to wipe your eyes, you look around to make sure no one is looking at you. You thought in your mind that you’d be stronger but deep down, you expected the tears even though it’s embarrassing to be this emotional in public.
“Were you even honest with everyone or did you make me the villain?,”
“I told them it was mutual,” he confesses in shame.
Choking on your sobs, you shake your head and just look out the window, “So you made them think I just skipped town? That’s so fucked up, Noah. I would have never done that to you,”
“I will tell them the truth,” He panicked, “I don’t know why I lied to them I just… I knew they’d make the guilt worse and I figured the damage was done. I knew if they knew the truth they’d make me reach out but after that I didn’t have the right to reach out to fix it,”
There’s a silence that floats between you two after his words. The culpability of hurting you ate at him while the heartache gnawed away at you.
Both were parasites feeding on their hosts. Ruining their lives, doing their best to reduce them to nothing.
The parasitism ends here though.
“If-” you hiccup, gathering your things, “If you want even a sliver of a chance of being in Noelle’s life… of us getting back together, of us being a family… then you’ll start with being honest with our friends,”
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Noah was so anxious that he just might throw up. He wanted you back and he didn’t want to miss out on having a family. He’s missed out on enough due to his own transgressions.
It took Noah a few days to muster up the strength to tell everyone. Every time he tried, he stumbled over his words and gave up. He had to do this though, it wasn’t fair to lie on your name to save his face.
Noah found himself with the guys, all gathered for game night. Snacks spread out all over the table, Folio was high, laughing while throwing a squid at Matt on the course, fucking up Matt’s winning streak. All of them were having a good time but Noah couldn’t focus on having fun, what he was about to confess wasn’t fun by any means. After a few rounds of Mario Kart, he paused the game and sighed, many groans of dismay being heard around the living room.
“What’s your problem?,” Jolly questioned, “I was about to whoop your ass on the Bone-Dry Dunes!,”
Noah felt his breathing pick up. It was now or never.
“It wasn’t mutual,” he blurts out, heart racing in his chest, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears.
“The fuck are you talking about?,” Folio burps obnoxiously loud and Bryan kicks him for being gross about it.
“Y/N and I, the break up wasn’t mutual,” he finds his switch controller a lot more interesting than the feeling of their eyes burning holes into his skin.
“Again, that begs the question… what the fuck are you talking about?,” Matt’s voice sounds strained, like he knows and is getting irritated with the suspense.
“Before she left. I told her that I didn’t love her like I used to. I got overwhelmed with the band. I was… I got deep in my head and started to self sabotage. I neglected her and I fucked up,”
A stillness dresses the air, Noah can feel the tension. He can’t bring himself to look up and see their expressions, he’s ashamed, he should be. How did he go so long with this secret? How did he go about his life knowing he broke the trust of one of the sweetest souls that walked this Earth?
“Woah…,” Davis muttered in a daze. His single word response was enough to have all hell breaking loose.
“I’m going to kick your fucking ass!,” Nicholas threw his controller at Noah, heat from his frustration reddening his cheeks, “Are you fucking kidding me, Noah? Is that why she ran off?,”
“That’s exactly why,” he nodded, cursing at himself. He feels so embarrassed to say it out loud. This is the first he’s ever admitted this outside of therapy. These are people that mattered, people whose opinions mattered the most.
Matt sat up like he’d seen a ghost, a light bulb moment happening for him, “That’s why she didn’t tell you about the baby,”
“BABY?!,” Folio screeched, “where the fuck was I?!,” Hands stuck out as if to gesture “wtf” Folio was always ten steps behind everyone else, even when he was in the room at the time of conversations.
“You were super high, you passed out,” Jolly waved at him to shut up, turning to Noah, “You’re our brother which means I have to be honest. That is a dick ass move, Noah. She was nothing but patient with you. She loved you, supported you even when it was hard because you were gone all the time. What the fuck?,”
“She was always there no matter what you needed,” Bryan added, while it took a while for you to open up to everyone, when you did, they became your little family, “She was always there for you, always there for us,”
“I miss when she packed our lunches for the studio,” Folio sighed like he was daydreaming. Once again finding it hard to read the room.
“Not the time!,” Nicholas gritted through his teeth
“I’m just saying!,” Folio defended, “She took care of all of us,”
Nicholas stuck out his hand to shut Folio up. If there was anyone up in arms about this, it was him. They all became your family and it hurt them when you left without a word. Now that he knows the full story, it makes him livid to know it was Noah who pushed you away. This could have been avoided.
“We were worried sick about her, Noah!,” Nicholas was more upset than any of them, and that’s saying a lot, the others were quite upset, “That girl who stuttered over her words the first time she met you still stuttered after years of being with you because she loved you, because you still made her nervous! After years of being with you she was still smitten and because of the stress.. you… y-you say that shit to her?,”
Noah really had no rebuttal. He knew Nicholas was right. There were no words for him to defend himself with. It almost brought him to tears, unsettled by his own behavior and now that other people know… now that the people closest to him know- it changes everything and forces him to reflect even more.
“Instead of talking to her, talking to us to keep you from doing something so stupid- instead of doing.. anything! You pull a coward ass move!,”
Nicholas viewed you as if you were a younger sibling, taking you under his wing, understanding your reclusive personality. He was the first person you connected to outside of Noah. He had a feeling when he only ever got vague answers when asking about the break up.
“It was time I was honest. I want to make this right with her. I want a chance to see my daughter and be a dad but it starts with honesty.” Noah mumbled, “I just want her back and I want a second chance whether I deserve it or not. I want to be there for Y/N like I always should have been. I want to be there for Noelle. I’m sorry it took so long to come clean.”
“Yeah?,” Matt’s jaw clenches as he ponders what has been said. He has his own thoughts regarding the matter but Nicholas seemed to cover them all for the most part, “I hope she makes you work like hell for it!,”
All Noah can really do is agree, they’re right. He was a coward, he did take the easy way out instead of facing his own problems and insecurities, and you should make him work like hell to get you back, to earn his place in Noelle’s life.
“Noelle,” Folio trails off, giggling to himself as he says the name, “Noeeeellee,”
“Dude, shut the fuck up!,” Jolly shouted with a bit of laughter layered underneath, Folio is such an airhead, it’s hard to have serious conversations like this around him. At least it eases some tension.
“It’s a cute name!!,”
“She’s an adorable baby,” Matt confirmed, “I only got a glimpse of her but she looks just like Noah,”
“Nah,” Noah shook his head, “She has my eyes but she has the curl of Y/N’s lashes. She has my lips but she has her mama’s chin. She has my dimples but Y/N’s cheeks. She’s both Y/N and me. She’s beautiful,”
Davis scoffs, raising his eyes, “Well you better get your shit together,”
“Yeah! I’m ready to be one kick ass uncle!,”
“Shut up, Folio!,”
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You had taken it upon yourself to unblock everyone, figuring that if Noah told them the truth that they’d want to reach out, which they did.
It was scary at first, Noah had been a coward but you had your cowardly moments as well. Running off and not saying a word to people who cared about you- it wasn’t the nicest thing to do. Going through this with Noah had you realizing there are some things you would have done differently. This is a time of self reflection for everyone.
Although you’d been talking with them over the last week or so, you didn’t let the conversation stray too far from how you were doing. You weren’t ready to introduce them to Noelle or the idea of her just yet, you’re sure Noah has talked about her a bunch but you didn’t want to get too close to everyone again as of right now.
Ms. Ernie and Reid have been watching Noelle while you and Noah rebuild yourselves.
Dates that you made sure to let him know weren’t ‘actual dates’, walks at the park that turned into introspective discussions. It was all a work in progress and it made Ms. Ernie’s words hit even harder, there’s a lot to learn about love and that sometimes second chances are worth it.
You made him work like hell, but he was doing pretty well. He had different plans each day you guys hung out. He was attentive. He was gentle, he even told you about what he and his therapist talked about after each session.
In reality, you could tell he was doing better. You still had some reservations and there was still a long way to go but ultimately he was making a true effort. You could see the change he was making. Granted, it was a change that should have happened a long time ago but things happen the way they’re supposed to and when they’re supposed to.
That sentiment itself was a hard pill to swallow.
Today he took you on a picnic in the park, packed your favorite foods and drinks. He was really laying it on thick, others might find it cringe but it was making your heart flutter.
“I never did thank you, for telling them the truth,” popping a grape in your mouth, “I know it wasn’t easy,”
“It needed to happen. I knew better and I shouldn’t have lied to them but most importantly, I shouldn’t have lied on you. I was a coward and that’s not who I want to be to you… or Noey,”
A pleasant hum emitted from your chest, brows raising at the nickname that left his mouth.
“That one seemed to stick, huh?,”
“Noey is different… and it’s super close to Noah,”
“Noelle is already close to Noah!,” you bicker, both of you in high spirits while you go back and forth
“Noah has four letters and so does Noey,”
“Oh you’re such a kiss ass!,” you push him and he falls over dramatically.
“Help! Someone help!,” he shouted, feigning like he was injured
“Oh my God, Noah, stop! Someone is gonna think you’re serious!,” you reach over him to cover his mouth but he licks it and you squeal
“EEUUUGHHH!! You’re so gross!!,” you yank your hand back, he’s laughing like a hyena. Eyes wrinkling, hand in his chest and head thrown back.
“You used to do that to me all the time!” Justifying his action, you stick your tongue out at him while wiping your wet palm on his cheek
“Which means you can’t steal my move!,”
It was tense the first couple of meet ups and each one gets you closer to bringing Noelle around. These past couple of times had broken the ice and it started to feel like time hadn’t passed.
“Hey uhm, are you?- do you still live at the house?”
Noah settles down, feeling the energy shift to something a little more serious.
“Yeah. Didn’t have the guts to move. Why?,”
You twist grapeless vine in your hands, afraid to say the words now that you’re feeling comfortable to bring it up. It’s about 2 months of this and Noelle is a little over 6 months now.
“I’d like to bring Noelle by,”
Noah struggled for air, coughing up his drink and you can’t help but snicker at the liquid dripping off his chin.
“What?,” his eyes are as big as saucers
“Unless you’re not ready. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,”
“No! No, I.. Y/N you have no idea how much I would love that,”
If you weren’t mistaken, you swear you see tears welling in his eyes
“I’d love to meet my daughter,”
This was a big step for you and an even bigger one for Noah. Both of you were scared beyond your wits.
“I’d like for it to just be us and then we can work up to getting the guys to meet her? And then you can meet Ms. Ernie, Reid and his husband, Morgan,”
You had to make sure to set some ground rules, Noah responded without any issues knowing that at the end of the day- you call the shots and he has to abide by them if he wants this to work. Yet despite feeling good about all of this, there’s still a smidge of uncertainty.
“What’s on your mind?,” even after all the time spent apart, reading you was like muscle memory.
“I still feel resentful,” you look to him to see his shoulders sagging, “I know you’re tired of it,”
“I don’t expect you to get over any of this anytime soon. In a way, you’re grieving and I can’t police how long you mourn. I can only help ease it,”
You didn’t really think of what you were going through as mourning but you guess you can see the similarities. What you two had was long gone and even in the face of starting over, albeit with the same person, you were still allowed to miss how things were and feel a bit out of sorts about what happened.
“It’s just,” you watch his hands as he picks at his palms, a nervous tick he’s always had. You’re once again feeling a sort of guilt making him feel like this but it’s a price he has to pay, right? You didn’t ask to be hurt to begin with.
“Resentment is so weird. I want to forgive you, Noah. So fucking bad I want to forgive you because I can’t keep doing this with you, I wish I could forget so I could just… hug you, kiss you, hold your hand like we used to,”
“You set the pace, Y/N. I told you no matter what, I respect it. I wish I could take it all back. God, I wish there was a way for me to go back so I didn’t fuck up and hurt you,”
“And my mind is struggling to comprehend why the fuck you would do that to me,” anger bleeds into your tone.
Noah is seen blubbering like a fish out of water as he tries to find his words. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, recalling the very night he ruined what you two had.
“There’s no explanation,” he declared, there was nothing good enough to excuse why he did what he did.
“No excuse, no reasoning that will ever be good enough for what I said to you. For how I treated you. It was unacceptable and there are no words to describe how apologetic I am. All I can say is, is that I’m so thankful you’re here, even giving me this chance,”
“You were all I could think about,” turning your body to him, he needed to know the turmoil you endured, “You hadn’t touched me in almost 3 months by the night I left. I was so consumed with the stress I didn’t realize I missed my period. I went to the doctor and that’s when I heard our little girl’s heartbeat,”
It didn’t get past him that you finally said our daughter and not just “my”. At this point, he has turned to look at you, listening closely, making sure you knew he was paying attention.
“I moved to the countryside and that’s where I met Ms. Ernie and Reid. They were my people while I was managing heartbreak. Keeping myself physically and mentally healthy so I could bring Noelle into this world. You… you should have been there Noah, you could’ve been there,”
“I know,” he blinks, tears falling down his cheeks just like yours were, “I missed out on so much because I couldn’t get my own shit together,”
“I took that pain and restructured it to fuel me so I could be the best parent I could be. I never thought I’d be sitting here in front of you. I never expected to see you again. Ever. But despite all the alarm bells, I am so fucking glad I am because I missed you, Noah. But I hate you so much at the same time,”
His face fashioned that of anguish at your last few words. It was hurting him but he didn’t look away from you, he didn’t hide his eyes, he’s now feeling what you felt that night and then some.
The anxiety. The fear, the fucking aching that burned from his gut all the way up into his throat. The pounding in his head, the heat that blanketed his skin. He can’t believe he did this to you. He can’t believe he sat across from you at the table that night, watching you fall apart and still said what he said.
“I don’t know how you expect us to rebuild anything,” your voice flows into his ears and he can feel his chest tightening, finding it harder to keep his breathing at a normal pace.
“Hell, I don’t even know how I expect us to rebuild anything but I’m going to try because that’s what you should have done!,”
“I-I know. Fuck, I.. I’m aware,” taking a deep breath to try to swallow his cries.
“I’m going to do what you couldn’t do,” a wild fire burns behind your eyes and he realizes this is a new you. The soft spoken Y/N is still there but this version of you takes no shit. You have a daughter now, you had to build tough skin
“I’m going to prove to you that fighting for what you want isn’t a lost fucking cause. I’m going to show you that no matter what is going on in your head, no matter what the voices are telling you- that I am here and I will be here until we are dust returned to the universe, Noah,”
You hated to see the way he dug his fingernails into his palms and you wanted nothing more than to grab his hands to massage the tension and cramps away.
“I know this is eating at you,” you whisper, “For the longest time I wanted it to. But not anymore,”
A great tremor overtook him, flexing his jaw to ease the ache from clenching it so hard. He had to break eye contact just this once to look up at the sky to will the tears away.
“Just take a page out of my book and take what you’re feeling to change and be better. No more apologies. Don’t be sorry, be better,”
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“You sure you got everything?,” Reid packed your diaper bag into the front while you buckled Noelle into her carseat.
“Yeah I got my cooler for the bricks. My pump, extra clothes, extra wipes-,” you continue to list other items and at this point you’re not listing them to Reid, you’re listing them because you’re scared. 
“You got this,” Ms. Ernie kisses your cheek and you look at her with worry, “Don’t look at me like that. You both are going to be okay. He’s been groveling for weeks on end, he’s been respectful, if you want to back out I’m sure he’d understand?,”
“No! No. I think I’m ready. She’s already 6 months old now, he deserves this much,” It’s crazy to think that you’ve been at this with Noah for about a few months now.
You’re wrapped in an embrace of them both, Reid whispering words of reassurance as he pulls away, helping you settle in the car.
“Let us know when you get there, okay?,” Ms. Ernie waves from her front step.
You assure her that you’ll do just that. A lively wave is sent their way as you pull out of the driveway to make it to a house that you once called home, a house that could have been a home for Noelle. 
You didn’t need a GPS, you’d never forget the way there even if you tried. You could drive there blindfolded. The drive really wasn’t that long and a part of you wishes it was because when you pull up your stomach is full of butterflies. 
He’s probably nervous too. Don’t stress about it. As if he was waiting by the door, he’s out on the porch, wiping his hands on a paper towel when you exit your vehicle.
“Need help with anything?,” a nervous smirk across his face, he looks like he’s going to throw up at any second.
“Wanna grab the diaper bag and cooler?,”
He didn’t give a verbal answer. He was already down the steps and to your car before you finished asking. You grabbed Noelle’s carrier and waited for him to get the other items. Seeing him with the lavender diaper bag on his shoulder stirred a feeling inside of you. He looked like a dad, he looked good. A yearn made itself present in your body, you just wanted to be a family.
“Follow me,” 
You could tell he was excited, excited but tense. He didn’t want to fuck this up. 
Once you’re settled in the house, he heads upstairs, mumbling that he’ll be right back. When taking your jacket off to hang it on the second hook on the back of the door, you realize the hook still has your name on it. He never took it off, this was your hook, everyone knew not to hang their things on it. And beside yours, you see one for Noelle. Noah, Y/N and Noelle. Your fingers brush against the names and a smile creeps on your face.
“I know she probably already has one but I figured it would be nice if she had one here. She’ll probably end up falling asleep depending on how long you stay,”
You turn around to see a lavender playpen with her name on the side.
“In a lot of the videos and pictures you showed me, she’s wearing lavender so..,”
“Noah,” you coo, stepping over to him, “That’s so sweet,” 
You turn to Noelle in her carrier and unbuckle her, “If you wanna go wash your hands, you can hold her,”
“Yeah?,” his eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. He didn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s jogging into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. About a good minute later he’s rushing back in but he seems hesitant. 
“Don’t worry,” you assure him, “I show her pictures just like I show you pictures. She knows you. She won’t really be fussy” 
You cradle her while handing her over to him.
“She likes to be held like this, just support her neck,” 
Noah takes her from you softly, his large hands make her seem so small, even at six months. He stares at her in awe and sits down gently. Noelle babbles at him, waving her hands and smiling. 
“Hiii, baby girl,” 
You can hear the tears as he speaks to her and you take a seat beside him, not bothered by how close you were.
“I’m your papa,” he chokes on his words, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger, “You’re so beautiful just like your mama,”
There weren’t many words said as Noah soaked in this moment with you watching. His breath is silently hitching from his tears but he only cries harder when Noelle reaches out and touches his cheek, seemingly wiping a tear away.
Noah sits back on the sofa, setting his feet flat on the cushion so he could lay Noelle on his thighs so that she was sitting up.
“You’re so sweet,” he kisses her hand, causing her to squeal and giggle. He looks to you with wide eyes and a bright smile
“You were right!,” 
“I told you!!,” you lean closer and watch the way Noelle is taking in the moment as well. She stares at Noah with a look of bewilderment, she’s never been around him physically yet relaxes into him like she’s known him since day one. She knows that’s her papa.
“Thank you,” he says simply, “I’m far from deserving but thank you so much, Y/N,”
“You deserve to be a dad, Noah. And she deserves one,”
“I won’t fuck this up,”
“You better not,” you poke his cheek, “Because she needs you… we both do,”
You let Noah record videos of him and her, letting him make up for lost time. He carefully danced around the living room with her while playing happy baby songs.
“I heard songs like this make them happy!,” he insisted. Each time she squealed he hugged her tighter, absolutely adoring the sound of his baby laughing with him. You couldn’t help but record some videos of your own, wanting to look back at this moment. 
The foundation still needed some work but what is life without the effort? What’s love without effort? He said he wouldn’t screw it up this time and you’re holding him to his word.
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“She’s down for bed,” Noah comes down the stairs, heading to the kitchen to return with two mugs 
“She’s never fallen asleep that fast,” taking a mug from him, you smell your favorite tea in the way he used to make it. 
“Does she wake you up throughout the night? I can be on baby duty so you can rest. U-unless you planned on going home tonight. I can drive you home, I don’t want you driving while you’re tired,” he offered.
“Can we stay?,” circling the rim of your cup, finding the heat from your tea comforting. 
“You two always have a place here,” he sets the baby monitor on the table and takes a sip of his coffee. He was always a late night coffee drinker, at least it was decaf, he just liked the taste. 
There was a comfortable lull that fell over you two and sitting on this very couch in this living room felt like home, like you belonged here. You made a home out of the cabin in the countryside but *this… this is where you felt like you were meant to be. Drinking your warm beverages on the couch while your child slept, simply enjoying each other’s company.
Noah randomly stands up and turns the tv on. He’s getting a game console, plugging it up and connecting the remotes. You’re watching in confusion while he does this all as if he’s on a mission. 
Once he gets everything connected he pulls out a game case. 
Michael Jackson: The Experience
“Nooaaaaaah,” you say suspiciously, “What are you doing?,” setting your cup on the side table, you watch with a questioning frown when he moves the coffee table
“Stand up,” insisting with a wide grin, he takes your hand despite your wariness
“What are we doing, Sebastian?” 
“We’re putting all those nights practicing with the music videos to use. I scored these at a yard sale and figured we could dance to some good ole Michael like we used to,” 
He hands you a Wii remote and the butterflies erupt again, spotting the same broken lampshade that he still hasn’t gotten rid of. 
“You think you still got it?,” you tease, wrapping the band around your wrist. 
He scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes, “You wish I lost it,” 
“Put your money where your mouth is,” 
He side eyes you with a little smirk, choosing the song he wanted to dance to. You expected Thriller, hell maybe even Ghosts. But he surprised you when he chose Do You Remember the Time
“If I win. I get to take you out on a romantic date,” he sighs triumphantly, he knows since you two started to rebuild something new, you didn’t want to get too romantic just yet.
“Okay,” you nod confidently, much to his surprise, “But if I win… you’re on baby duty for a night. That means getting up to feed her, change her diaper, cuddle-,”
“All I’m seeing is a win-win situation here,” turning back to the screen he hits play, “Bring your A game. I’ve been practicing for this very moment,” 
He says it as if he’s joking but he was serious. This was a song you two spent many nights listening to, belting it at the top of your lungs during late night drives, to dancing in the kitchen to it after date night. 
This little gesture may seem like just a night of dancing to a game to you but it was much more to him. So when the gold room appeared on the screen after picking your characters, he became timorous.
The beat begins and you feel a little silly following the movements at first. You hadn’t danced with Noah in ages but he probably feels just as goofy. You notice him missing a few beats and peak to see him adoring you, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, the way your eyes move across the screen, trying to focus.
“You’re not gonna win if you keep staring at me, Sebastian!,” 
“Fuck!,”
~Do you remember when we fell in love? We were young and innocent then~
You trip over your feet as the dance begins to incorporate footwork, glaring at Noah when you hear him laughing at you.
~Do you remember, back in the fall? We’d be together all day long~
You bend your knees and shimmy your feet along the carpet while Noah stands tall and moves in the opposite direction over you. Feeling him this close, despite just playing a game, had your heart palpitating. 
You never thought you’d have nights like this again. With anyone, let alone Noah. 
You hear Noah singing to himself while he follows the dance moves to a T, seeing his score get higher than yours had you ready to wreck his streak.
“Do you remember the time when weeee first met, girl?” He sang obnoxiously while looking at you, purposely singing off key. You snicker at his expressions, missing a move but you can’t bring yourself to care. 
Noah seemed so carefree and comfortable in this moment that it started to overshadow what had once hurt you, somewhat putting it on the back burner. 
~Those sweet memories, will always be dear to me~
You and Noah are now face to face, chest to chest, you two seemed to forget the game. Both of you breathing heavily from laughing and going all out on the dance moves.
“You’re gonna lose,” you pipe up, turning around to focus back on the game. You knew that if you stood there any longer you’d have kissed him. 
Noah seemed to snap out of his daze, immediately hopping back into where he was. You have to squat in front of him for the next move and it seems to last forever, feeling the burn like you’re in the gym.
“Oh my God!,” groaning in relief when you’re finally able to move from your position but the relief doesn’t last long when you’re made to go back, moving your arms up and feeling his hands touch yours. 
It sounds dramatic but you swear you feel a little tingle when he touches you. Maybe it was static or maybe it was the fact you missed his touch. A sensation that you felt so safe in, so comfortable and loved. 
You two slide away from each other, swinging your arms back and forth. You’re still following the screen but Noah decides to freestyle. Falling to his knees to sing the song to you, you’d worry about waking Noelle up but she was a deep sleeper. 
“Do you remember girl?,” he holds his fists up, singing passionately, “On the phone! You and me!! Till dawn, 2 or 3. What about us, GIRL!!,” 
You can’t help but throw your head back in entertainment at his dramatics. He was a performer for sure.
“Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya- in the park, on the beach! You and me, in Spain! What about, what about- rrrap tap tap, rrrap tap tap!,”
His ad libs bounce off the walls and you’re losing it.
“You look insane!,” you say over his off-key singing. 
He continues to sing despite your judgment, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you playfully
“Yeah! Yeah! Wooo!!,” 
The game is now complete and you fall back on the couch to catch your breath.
“I freestyled and I STILL won!,” he claps and points at you, “Pick out your prettiest dress, doll face because we’re going on a DATE!,” 
He stands in front of you, hands on his hips in victory and all you can do is cherish the view.
“Come here,” you stand before him, hearing your heart pound in your ears as he steps forward until his chest is level with your eyes, his famous chain glinting in the light on the room.
“What’s up?,” the confidence he just displayed was now replaced with diffidence. 
“You better not hurt me again,” it was strange being this close to him, “If you hurt me you’ll not only lose me but Sunshine as well and I don’t want that for her. So if this is going to happen- you talk to me when your insecurities set in. You talk to me before you self sabotage. You talk to me no matter what so that you continue to show up for our little girl. Do you understand me?,”
Noah nods his head so quickly that you think it just might fall off and roll away.
“I understand. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I love you and I love our baby. I was a fool to fuck up the first time. I won’t be that again,” 
“Good,” you nod, stepping away before patting his cheek with a sly grin.
“Because you’re on baby duty tonight,” 
His jaw drops at your antics, he doesn’t mind really. He’s starting to feel like an actual father now.
“But I won!!,”
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You wake up abruptly to Noelle screeching, a type of cry you’ve never heard before and you turn to see Noah’s spot empty. Scrambling to get out of bed, you rush downstairs to see him panicking, tears in his eyes and red in the face
“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, frantically trying to calm her 
“What happened??,” you kept your composure, not wanting to stress him out anymore than he already is. He hands you Noelle and he pulls at his roots, absolutely distraught and upset with himself.
“She was hungry and I… I heated up her milk for too long. Fuck, Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-,”
“Noah,” a soft hand on his chest, “It happens. She’s okay,” 
“I made her cry,” 
“She’s okay,” you reassure, “See,” you wipe her tears and she’s just left whimpering now.
You take his hand to sit him down at the table and give Noelle back to him despite his fear
“Don’t tense up. She’ll feel it and become fussy. Relax,” 
He took heed to your words, relaxing so that Noelle could follow suit.
“I should have put a brick in the fridge to thaw,” you mention, “I usually do if I know I’ll be too tired to breastfeed but I was exhausted so it slipped my mind. A brick will usually thaw in the fridge overnight and when it’s time, just set it in a cup of warm water for a few minutes and you’ll be good to go,” 
You take her bottle and run it under some cool water, testing it on your wrist, deeming it cool yet warm enough for her to drink. You sit beside Noah and hand him the bottle. 
“Here, you’re all set. 45 degree angle while she drinks,” you instruct. He follows your words and Noelle hums around the bottle, cuddling into Noah’s shirtless chest, “She likes skin to skin contact while feeding. Now she’ll really know you’re her papa,” 
You realize this is the same table he broke your heart at, tracing the pattern of the mahogany wood. You wouldn’t let that night haunt you anymore. Here’s to new memories. Now, this table will be remembered as the table that he fed your daughter for the first time, a learning experience for him. 
“I’m so sorry for hurting you, honey,” he whispered to her, kissing her forehead while her eyes fluttered sleepily, “I’m still learning but it won’t happen again,” 
You know his words were directed to you as well, finding solace in the reassurance. 
Once you teach him to burp her, the three of you make your way upstairs and back to bed.
“You can put her in the crib,” climbing into the bed that was once yours to claim. He took the time to build her crib and didn’t even wanna put her in it.
“I will once I’m ready to sleep, I just want to spend time with her is all,” 
Despite the infant sleeping, he wasn’t ready to put her down. His hair was thrown all over his head, his eyes here heavy but he was willing to fight sleep just to hold her in his arms for as long as he could. 
“I missed out on enough, I just wanna hold her,” 
“Okay,” you nod, sitting up and scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder, “Sing, you are my sunshine, to her. It’s her favorite song and I think she would like to hear it from you,” 
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he begins with ease, “You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” 
“You are my star shine,” you add in, “My only star shine,” 
You reach over to hold her small hand, resting your hand on his chest,
“I love you so much, each night and day,” 
Noah leans his head on yours, finding comfort in the words you sing. 
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my star shine away,” 
You look up to Noah, refusing to move your head off his shoulder so he rears back to look at you, your face being illuminated by the little nightlight you had plugged in for Noelle.
“You are my love shine, my only love shine,” he sings lowly, surprising you that he even knows the third verse of the nursery rhyme, “I miss you so much when you’re away,” 
The smile that appeared on your face was one he’ll never forget, especially when you begin to harmonize with him quietly, watching the way Noelle snuggles into his chest as if she can’t get close enough to him. 
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” you two sing together, curling into him even more when he plants a kiss on the crown of your head.
“Please don’t take my love shine awaaaay,” 
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Days had passed since that night. You and Noah alternate every couple of nights of whose place to stay at. He finally got the pleasure of meeting Ms. Ernie and Reid officially, offering his gratitude to the people who kept you and Noelle safe when he fell short. Despite his own shortcomings, they welcomed him with open arms. 
Reid currently had Noelle in the living room, both of them watching some cartoon movie while Ms. Ernie helped you with your hair, preparing for the night Noah had planned for you. 
“Do I look like I’m trying too hard?,” you turn to her, concern painted all over your face.
“You look like a beautiful youngin who is about to steal the heart of the love of their life,” 
“You flatter me,”
“Well it’s true,” she boops your nose and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You’re going to have fun!,” 
Noah wouldn’t exactly tell you what he had planned. He just said to dress in something comfortable and cute, so you stepped out of your comfort zone, going with a light floral dress, styling your hair to your comfort and a light face of makeup. 
When you heard the doorbell to your cabin go off, your stomach sank.
“Oh goodness!!,” turning to the smiling woman above you, “He’s here!! He’s 10 minutes early!,”
A light rumble comes from her, shaking her head and standing you up, “You would have still freaked out even if he showed up on time. Head up there!,”
You didn’t have time to respond due to the doorbell ringing again. A nervous Noah stood on the other side, worried that maybe you changed your mind. When the door swung open, both of you were speechless. 
You stood there, radiant as ever with Noelle in your arms. A nervous grin framed your teeth and Noah watched as you rubbed Noelle’s back, not for her comfort but for yours. You were antsy. Just as beautiful as the first day he met you when he knocked your bus token out of your hand.
Noah stood there in a plain, white shirt tucked into a pair of sleek black joggers. You noticed he cut his hair, cutting the sides short and keeping the top longer. He recreated the outfit he wore when you two first bumped into each other.
“Hi,” your throat tight around the simple word.
“H-hi,” he had a hand behind his back and stuck the other out, “Nice to meet you, my name is Noah,” 
You frown at his words until you realize this is a reintroduction.
“Hi, Noah. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you,” 
Both of you are similar to giddy teenagers falling in love for the first time. He handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you were quick to gasp. You loved flowers, you loved it even more when he gifted them to you.
Inviting him in, Noelle was quick to reach for him and he spun her around while you retrieved the glass milk bottle you received from Ms. Ernie to use as a vase.
“Looking gooooood!,” the elderly woman entered the room and pinched Noah’s cheek lightly.
“I can clean up nice!,” 
Reid entered the space and gave his compliments to the both of you and caught sight of the flowers, nudging Noah.
“Nice choice,” he whispered.
Once both of you give Noelle a ton of kisses, Noah takes your hand and guides you out to the car so you all could get your evening started.
“You gonna tell me what you have planned yet?,” hounding him as he begins to drive. 
“Dinner,” he answers, a smirk on his face to tell you that it wasn’t just dinner.
“Why so cryptic?” you poke him
“Relaaaaax,” he reaches over to grab your hand and squeeze. The two of you missing this simple gesture, feeling safe like this, like all will be okay, it will- but you’ll never get tired of the warm feeling of security. 
Noah took you out to your favorite restaurant, a nice night of expensive wine and taking bites of the other’s food. A bunch of blushing, a bunch of butterflies, laughter and unspoken I love yous. 
Now you find yourself with your hand in his, strolling downtown, him insisting that the night isn’t over. When you stop walking, you peer up to him and see an uncertain smirk on his face. Looking up to the sign on the building, you see what he had planned.
“Kiln of Sunshine,” you read aloud, “Couple’s pottery?”
All he does is laugh at your surprise and leads you inside. There aren’t many couples but it’s a nice intimate place. Dim lights strung up on the ceiling, custom printed aprons with your names on it, which he helps you put on and tie. 
When you’re directed to your designated spots, he sits behind you while you sit in front of the wheel.
“Welcome to the Kiln of Sunshine! We are a couple of potters who met through our love of art,” a young woman stands in front of the class, it’s hard to listen when Noah is so close like this. He still makes you so damn nervous.
“We created this abode to help other couples not only find a new hobby, but also grow together by means of communication and teamwork through making art!” The woman’s husband added with excitement. 
You look over your shoulder to see Noah already looking at you
“You look so beautiful,” he whispers. You have to tuck your chin into your shoulder to hide the fact your face was burning up at his compliment. 
The couple teaching gives you all step by step instructions to begin and then it’s just you and Noah left to your own devices. They gave you the guidelines but now it’s up to you and Noah to decide what you two create.
Much like a relationship. 
“Here, let’s try this,” Noah’s large, clay covered hands form to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Pinch here,”
“Maybe we should coil instead,” suggesting lightly. 
“Okay, yeah,” he nods, taking in your point of view, “I think it’ll turn out better that way,”
Noah hands you the wet sponge, watching the way your tongue sticks out from your lips as you concentrate. 
“I brought us here because I came to a lot of conclusions during our time apart,” his body frames yours like a puzzle piece, after a while, instead of you taking the lead, you let his hands guide yours now.
“Yeah?,” 
“Pottery teaches us a lot about accepting faults- appreciating the imperfections and flaws that can turn into something beautiful,” he moves your hands to pinch the clay in certain spots and watch your piece come to life. 
“Furthermore, we have patience and persistence- pottery, like relationships, demands patience at every turn. To keep going in the face of difficulties, even if you don’t see the results right away. It takes time to mold something beautiful” 
Noah kept going and you’d be lying if his words weren’t tear jerking. While you two were rekindling, you had some introspective moments of your own. Realizing that there are some things you could have done differently yourself. Especially since finding out about the mental battles he was facing during the last few months of your relationship, which caused him to break it off.
You were so caught up in your own mind that you didn’t realize Noah’s actions were due to the fact that it wasn’t Noah- he pulled back from you because he was trying to figure his own labyrinthine mind out, that’s why he kept asking for time, he just felt ashamed to say it out loud. 
Both of you got time, even if it wasn’t in the most ideal form.
“I’m still learning and growing and I know I have a long way to go for you to fully trust me because of those faults, but I’m patient and I’m not going anywhere,” 
You felt him kiss your shoulder, causing goosebumps to flourish on your skin.
“Well… maybe we won’t need the water bowl to wet the sponge anymore since you’ve got me crying over here!,” 
The laughter that erupts from the two of you is boisterous, providing comedic relief in the midst of him expressing his emotions. 
“You two are doing great over here!!,” the instructor complimented the piece the two of you were crafting.
You felt the swell of pride in your chest because whether she was talking about your pottery piece or not, you and Noah are doing great.
The night progressed beautifully. You had to leave your piece at the place overnight so it could get fired and glazed before you took it home to decorate yourselves. So, Noah took you on a stroll, your hand in his, taking in the view of the pretty lights set up downtown. Finding yourselves in front of the big fountain in the center, you stick your hand out to him
“C’mon, big money. Hand over a quarter,” 
He quickly digs in his pocket and hands you a shiny coin in which you hold up to your mouth, whispering to it before throwing it in the fountain. The light plopping sound it made was satisfying to you.
“What did you wish for?,”
You notice him taking his shoes and socks off, rolling up his pant legs and you feel suspicion rising in your belly.
“That would beat the purpose of a wish!,” 
“Take your shoes off,” 
“No! I know what you’re about to do and I spent too much time on my hair and make up!,”
Noah sat you down on the edge of the fountain, removing your shoes for you
“You know that you don’t need your makeup and hair all done up for me to find you absolutely breathtaking… right?,” 
He gives you no time to reply before he’s standing you up and bringing you into the fountain, twirling you around under the raining streams. 
“Noah we’re gonna get in trouble!!,” squealing in his arms, trying to get out of them. He sets you down but before you can scold him, his wet hands are framing your face to pull you in for the long awaited kiss that he’s been wanting to give you since the day you left. 
You felt like you were in a movie. The hopeless romantic that lived within you was thriving. You were stuck in your spot for a second, realizing that since starting over, this is your first kiss and he made it so damn romantic. Pulling him in by his shirt, your lips follow his, flowing with the same desire and unspoken words.
I’m sorry.
I forgive you.
We’re going to be okay.
I don’t hate you
I love you.
I always will.
Damning your own instinctive need to breathe, you pull away from him, pressing your fingertips to your lips, still completely shocked by it all.
“I’m sorry I just… I couldn’t fight it anymore,” he looked so ethereal, wet hair sticking to his face, droplets on his cheeks and big, brown eyes staring back at you with blown pupils.
“Until the day we are returned to dust to the universe, I will love you and cherish you. I will be what I should have always been. And even then… even after we are just dust- I will find you in another timeline and continue to be that and more”
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Life is a beautiful thing now. It was no longer grey and neither of you felt like you were just getting by, you were finally living. 
You didn’t want to give up your cabin, so despite all the memories the house back in the city had, you two decided to make more memories out here.
Your house was full now, filled with friends you missed dearly, all of them soaking up time with Noelle, getting used to being uncles. 
“Nuh uh!,” Noah shouts, “Folio, wash your hands before holding her,” 
“What the hell! I just did!!,” he defended, arms halfway out, ready to reach for his niece.
“Not long enough! Sing happy birthday twice if you have to- and don’t swear around my daughter!,” 
Noah fit the dad role real well. He was proud to be the father of your child. He doted on Noelle, always took pictures with her, sang to her (a lot better than you ever did) and though Noah had a love for the city, he loved being out here with you two, taking her on daily walks around the countryside while you tended to the chickens and garden. 
You thought he’d put up a bigger fight due to his career but- things were simple out here and being out here made him feel normal and domestic. This is what life was always supposed to feel like and it’s what the two of you had always envisioned. 
“Everyone get ready, dinner’s almost finished!,” Ms. Ernie hollered. She loved the guys, it didn't take long for her to warm up to people and just like she took you under her wing, she did the same for them. She even listens to their music now, she says Hedonist is her favorite. 
Folio doesn’t care to make his plate now that he has Noelle, making her squeal and laugh at his silly faces. 
Matt bumps you as he moves past you to get a drink out of your fridge, “I told you he wouldn’t take her from you,” 
“You only get one ‘I told you so’ in our friendship and you used it well. Thanks, Matty,” 
During the time you and Noah were reconnecting, you had to rebuild your friendships with the guys as well. You and Matt now have your farmer’s market dates back. You, Jolly, Davis and Folio have your bowling on Thursday nights while you and Bryan go to the movies every Tuesday because they’re half off. And Nicholas- the one who truly is like a brother, both of you had your chess game that you abandoned but he kept the board set in hopes that one day you’ll come back. 
He taught you how to play ages ago and when you finally got the hang of it, you two matched all the time, some matches going for days, this match being the longest ever due to a hiatus. 
He had the board with him, setting it up on the counter, both of you moving your pieces throughout the day.
“I know how to beat you,” staring at the board, he comes to stand beside you.
“Yeah?,” grinning as if he wasn’t about to lose.
“You have nowhere to go, Nicky,” you pick your Queen up, moving her to h5, threatening his f7. You watch him frown at your movements and you have to hide the smirk on your face. If you win, you’ll no longer be tied. 
You move your Queen to take his f7 and you check his king.
“No!,”
“Checkmate!,” clapping in victory, you jump up and down, “I still got it!!,”
“You got lucky!,” 
Despite him losing, he was always a good sport. He did teach you after all.
After dinner, Reid provided dessert, topped with a delicious honey glaze he made from his bees. Matt started a fire pit outside which left only you, Noah and Noelle in the kitchen as you two arranged to put her down for bed. He had her wrapped up against his chest while you prepared his coffee and your tea.
Noelle cooed against his chest, eyes fluttering and trying to fight sleep.
“I love you,” he searched your face, feeling blessed that he can say the words to you again. Your eyes sparkle in the warm light of the kitchen, feeling blessed to hear those words once again. You’ll never get tired of hearing it, especially because it’s all different now. It’s healthier, happier.
“And I love you,” of course you do- it was muscle memory. 
After lightly clinking your mugs together, your eyes catch sight of the fruit bowl you and Noah made in your pottery class. Your painted hand print on one side, his on the other and Noelle’s in the middle with 4 simple words written across it.
You are my Sunshine.
Stepping closer to him, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you stood in silence just enjoying each other’s presence. Finding joy in the laughter of your loved ones outside. 
All is well and always will be. Ms. Ernie was right. Sometimes second chances are worth it. 
“Thanks for adding to the sunshine instead of taking it away,”
Noah could hear the relief in your voice that things turned out for the better. He’d never give this up. Home isn’t a place, home is this moment right here and every moment after.
“Until we are dust returned to the universe.”
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First and foremost i wanted to thank everyone for their patience while i worked on this!! this story means so much to me and i am grateful for the love i received on part one and hope you all enjoy this part even if it’s a little long!!!
Please be sure to reblog and comment as it helps us writers out a lot!!!
much love!
~Berry 🫐
tags: @dravenskye @babs-96 @tech-depression-inventory @magnificentstrawberryomen @mrscevans @tinyfairies @mxddymay @themorticians-world @rainy-darling @lma1986 @darknightstarryeyes @thisbicc @lilhobgobbler @lovethe-void @cind6547 @flowery-mess @widowsofchaos @abiomens @amelia-acero @collapsedglasshouses @poppy-in-the-woods @rostoken @dkxxm @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingintothegrey @blairboo
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asthedeathoflight · 1 month
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Im here as a certified Blade Runner expert to inform all of you that Armand would prefer the theatrical release with the happy ending because deep down hes a scared little kid and he wants to believe that everything is going to be alright for Deckard and Rachael forever and Daniel prefers the director's cut which is obviously objectively the better version and so he would be very caught off guard by Armand preferring the theatrical release, even tho he really shouldnt because he and Armand saw the theatrical version together in theaters and the directors cut didn't come out until after they broke up so of course thats the version Armand has been rewatching all these years.
However because they're both so damn stubborn this would result in their first ever couple fight post-turning which inevitably becomes extremely personal extremely quickly (should Rachael get to live forever with Deckard? Is her life beautiful BECAUSE its short? Does Deckard's love for her mean more if he's turning his back on his long-lived brethren to embrace the ephemerality of her existence?) and results in several pieces of furniture being destroyed. After this Armand has a blu ray of the final cut overnighted bc neither of them have ever seen it (even tho its available digitally) and they have a seven hour long conversation about whether Deckard is a replicant and what it would mean if he was which at some point turns into makeup sex but never stops also being a philosophical discussion of the themes of timeless Ridley Scott classic Blade Runner.
And in late 2018 Armand kept mentioning that there's this science fiction movie set next year to Louis like he expected him to be excited but Louis was too busy manipulating the stock market or whatever and he just didn't really get why it mattered- all scifi movies are set in the future Armand, and we're immortal so we're going to live to see all of those futures, you weren't like this in 1984 Armand - and Armand doesn't quite regret what he did but the loneliness cuts sharper than usual on New Year's 2019.
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drdemonprince · 18 days
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At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 
I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 
He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 
I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 
“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 
He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 
He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 
People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 
I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 
I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 
From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 
I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.
I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 
I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 
All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 
I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 
I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.
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sgt-tombstone · 2 months
Text
cackling at the idea of Ghost having roommates
bc like, listen… the housing market is in shambles, and the military really doesn’t pay all that much, so yeah, Simon (because they know he’s military, but they don’t know he’s Ghost) rents a room in a house somewhere in Manchester. It’s a shitty house, but he’s rarely there, so he really doesn’t care.
Price knows about it, was actually the one to suggest it, because he thought it’d be good for Simon, and it is. It means that he never spends leave in a cold, dark, empty flat. It means that he gets off the train and is able to come home to somewhere that’s already warm and light and full of some semblance of life. It means that Price doesn’t have to worry about Simon going on leave and being a danger to himself in one way or another.
There are three of them, including the dog, and Simon’s never been a dog person, at least not before Johnny, but he can admit that it’s nice to have something heavy and fluffy and warm propped against his side, like a facsimile of human touch that he never gets. The other two roommates are slightly younger than him, a guy and a girl, and Simon has a secret bet with himself about how long it’ll take them to realize that they’re in love with each other.
He’s not a particularly sociable person, but his roommates probably know the most about Simon. Not Ghost, because they don’t know Ghost exists, but they know that Simon prefers romcoms over action films, that he enjoys cooking and occasionally bakes, that he keeps the thermostat low and sleeps with several blankets. They don’t know who he is, but they know him.
And then Simon brings Johnny home on leave. He honestly hadn’t even thought about the fact that Johnny would be meeting his roommates for the first time. It’s like worlds colliding, like two of his lives crashing into each other. It’s odd, but it oddly feels right.
The first words out of Johnny’s mouth are, of course, “you have roommates??”
Which is… fair, he supposes. He’s at least self-aware enough to know that he’s not the sort of person who looks like they have roommates. Or acts like they have roommates, to be honest.
Anyway, Johnny and his roommates get along dangerously well. By the end of the first night, they’ve coaxed all sorts of stories out of each other, well and truly destroying any constructed wall between his two personas, but they’re all laughing, and it’s warm, it’s alive, it’s… love.
They love him.
It’s a jarring realization, that some of the most important people in his life can see all facets of him, can witness all that he is, can learn everything there is to know about him, and love him anyway. Or maybe, love him because. He’s not sure what to do with it, so he accepts another offered beer and sits in something like awed silence.
And then Johnny convinces his roommates to go out with them, drinking or clubbing or something, and then Johnny’s calling Gaz, because of course is, but he glanced to Simon first, because of course he did, and Simon finds himself nodding, because he can never say no to Johnny, and something about the warmth in his chest has him feeling generous. He’ll never hear the end of it, he knows, but he also knows that maybe that’s okay
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