#yes I did cheat and use one of the previous sketches for the top ones fight me

[modmad]

so my DM in the Toonkind game gave me the go-ahead to create and play a Bootleg Conductor (’the Engineer’) and that’s just really super :>

[ravensbug]

Beautiful

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Lin Beifong x reader

Request: No

Prompt: “It’s beautiful”

Summary: You’ve been stuck at home ever since you broke your leg. Lin refused to even let you go to the precinct to work at your desk. Seeing as you had nothing to do at home you decide to paint, seeing as it has been years since you’ve done so. Lin comes to visit to see how you're doing and admires your paintings. She visits more often to see how they’re going.

You picked up the two-inch brush and primed your canvas with turpentine. You decided you were going to use oil paints today, rather than the watercolor you’d been using for the past week. It was a change of pace since oil paint took much longer to dry. It allowed for more complex ideas and significantly more details.

You were always fond of painting animals, either from memory or when they would sit outside your window. You mostly painted birds, but there were a few cats and dogs scattered throughout your list of paintings.

Switching to a different brush, you situated yourself in a more comfortable position in your chair. Painting was much easier when you were standing, but your broken leg didn’t allow you to do that. It was more like Lin wouldn’t allow you to. She would scold you if she came over to find you standing while painting.

You really wished you two could spend more time together, but being a cop was a time consuming job for the both of you. More so for Lin, being the Police Chief and all.

Her visits were always nice. She would usually come with food, knowing you spend all day painting without a break. Of course she wouldn’t have eaten either, so she couldn’t judge you too harshly.

Today you decided to paint a raven, by far your favorite bird. Even though it’s feathers were all black, you were able to put so much color and detail into them. Of course feathers were still a pain in the ass to paint. If even one was off by size, color, or even shading you had to repaint it.

But that’s what made oil paint so much better than watercolor for this. If it didn’t look right then you could fix it. The paint didn’t dry right away. It was a nice ‘cheat’ as you would call it, even though it wasn’t cheating.

The downside was that the paint didn’t dry right away. Kind of redundant, but you couldn’t do too much work all in one day. The paint had to dry so you could add some details without the colors mixing. Things like eyes would be done last to avoid any chance of the paint getting wet.

You took a small amount of the general paint colors and painted over your sketch. You could still see the sketch, but there was a light layer of colored turpentine now covering it.

Turpentine was very important for oil paints. The paint refuses to attach itself to the canvas without it. It also serves as the cleaning agent, as water only moves the paint around everywhere.

You took some of the grey and began with the beak of the bird. Starting at the top was important to avoid smudging. You also had the background to worry about, but that would come last. You would rather be able to remove the excess paint covering the raven than paint over the background and have layering issues.

Once you were satisfied with the color and shading of the beak you moved on to the head. Black paint would be what you used for the most part. The eye, and the shading around it would come last, but it was still black.

You painted the small feathers that stick out from its head as well as the ones that cover some of the beak. The paint was nice and smooth, so you could get fine lines out of it when you needed to.

You painted down the neck and stopped before the wings began. It’s important to know that with oil paint you work from dark to light, rather than from light to dark. Lighter oil paints, like white, can never truly be covered once added. You avoid this by always adding less white until you get the desired shade.

Once you added the small details to add definition to the head and neck you began work on the wings. The most painstaking part of the painting. You started with the left wing first, which was at an angle. Less feathers to paint and it allowed you to get a technique figured out for this painting.

Because of the background you had chosen, a cherry blossom tree, you decided that the highlights on the feathers would include some green and even a hint of blue. It created a contrast that was noticeable, but wasn’t ugly.

The top of the wing was much easier to deal with as it was made up of smaller feathers. Since the wings were both tucked in you could get away with only using vague highlights to show off the small feathers. You knew you would come back to them eventually, either later while painting or when you finally decided you needed to fix it. For now it looked fine.

Moving down to the individual feathers you painted them one by one. Not just plain black either. Full shading on each feather before you moved onto the next. And if the previous feather didn’t look right after you finished another you would go back until it looked right. This was tedious and sometimes annoyed the hell out of you, but making these feathers look right was your main priority.

About halfway through the first wing you threatened to rip the canvas in half. The feathers weren’t cooperating like you wanted and there was the nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that you could never get them right.

Oh the perks of being able to paint. On one hand it relaxed you and kept you from thinking about being stuck in your apartment all day. On the other it pissed you off to no end when you couldn’t get something exactly right.

You eventually gave into your frustration when you threw the brush at the painting. It didn’t ruin anything thankfully, but it made you feel better.

Sitting back in your chair you couldn’t help but scold yourself for being stuck in this situation. You were always careful when it came to using your cables and zipping around the city or down from one of the blimps. But as life would have it you still weren’t careful enough.

Your fall wasn’t life threatening in any way, thankfully. Lin wouldn’t have known what to do if it had been. It was maybe fifteen or twenty feet from the ground when your cable suddenly snapped. There was training for these instances and you knew what to do.

You had used your other cable and attached it to a nearby building. It helped angle your descent to not have as much of impact which was the key to why you weren’t injured anymore. But you still managed to land awkwardly, catching your foot on a small hole in the street and breaking plenty of bones.

The adrenaline of the whole situation caused you to not feel anything, which was for the better. You tried standing up, but when your leg refused to hold your weight you knew something had happened.

Lin ignored whatever they had come to do in the first place and ran over to you. You weren’t crying, but there was a sense of sadness or disappointment around you.

No matter how many times you and the doctor told Lin you were going to be ok she never really believed it until you got home. You would have a cast on for six months or more if you tried to use the leg. You knew it would be more because you were stubborn as hell.

You didn’t want this to stop you from working, even if you were stuck at your desk for those six plus months. Lin, however, refused to let you come to work. She personally walked with you back to your apartment after you had come to the station the day after getting injured.

Lin would rather you be in a wheelchair than crutches, but she knows she can’t control everything you do. She remembers that you can handle yourself even if you’re more vulnerable now. She spends more time with you because of that, but neither of you complain.

Once you were done reminiscing about how you got to where you were right now you took a deep breath. Art wasn’t easy, you knew that. Being out of practice wasn’t much help either.

You picked up the brush from its spot on the floor and cleaned it off. The floor had some paint on it, but it was nothing a rag couldn’t clean up. At least it wasn’t a spill.

After another deep breath you went back to the feathers. Taking that short break to let out your frustration worked well. Whatever was stopping you from figuring out had left your mind. You could see that it was simply how wide the feather was. A stupid mistake that you scolded yourself for.

Finishing the wing became much easier now. It wasn’t faster because even though there were less feathers as you went down they also got longer.

You noted that you might have to change the shading after getting an idea. It was only a maybe though. Making it seem like there were flowers above the bird and out of view was hard, but not impossible. You would come back to that idea later.

The body in between the wings was left unshaded. Plain black was enough since your light source would make it shadowed anyway.

Now came the second wing. It would have to take much more time and patience for you to do this one, as you could see more of it than the other wing. Thinking you had plenty of time left in the day to finish the painting you started on the wing. You only stopped when you heard the lock of your door turn.

Were you startled by it? Yes, you definitely were. But it could be argued that Lin was more startled by having a knife floating inches from her face as she opened the door.

“Lin! Spirits you scared me!” you guided the knife back to the counter.

“I’m glad you’re prepared for intruders,” She seemed unphased even though you knew better than to think that.

“C’mon. You don’t need to be the high and mighty Chief of Police here,” you smirked. That was one of the things she had started to do around you. Let down her guard. It was rare for her to do that and you felt appreciated knowing she did that around you.

“I brought you dinner.” she lifted the bag of food in her hand. It was for both of you, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

“You’ve been working on that all day haven’t you?” she placed the food down on the counter and walked over to you. She studied the painting while waiting for you to respond.

“Apparently I have,” you sighed. “I don’t even know the time.” You leaned over and looked at the clock. Seven in the evening.

“Well you got off early,” you smiled at Lin. It was rare for her to get off anytime before eight.

“Wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all,” there was a small grin that showed on her lips. You wondered if she left early on purpose just to see you.

“So what did you get us this time?” You added the us last second. You two had eaten dinner together so much in the past few weeks that it was the new normal for you two.

“Kwong’s,” she answered.

“No way! You didn’t?” You got up out of your chair and hobbled over, without your crutches. You were excited, who could blame you?

Kwong’s was something you had only a few times in your childhood, saved for ultra rare occasions, like your graduation.

When you made it over to the counter you saw that Lin had indeed gotten you two Kowng’s.

“How the hell did you get Kowng’s? They’ve been filled with customers for months.” Lin turned when she saw that you were now next to her. You knew your question wouldn’t be answered because of the scowl on her face.

“You have crutches, please use them. I’d like you back in the station as soon as possible,” she scolded you. It wasn’t her usual tone that she gave newbies at the station or even vets who were on her nerves. There was worry rooted deep in her voice. She cared about you, you knew that.

Lin walked over to where your crutches rested and grabbed them for you. She handed them to you and you reluctantly took them and put them under your arms.

“I’ll get the food ready, you go sit down. Use your crutches this time,” she told you.

You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the table. If anyone else had done that, they would have been dead. But you weren’t anyone and you figured that out when you got injured.

You had speculated that Lin had liked you after the fourth day of her bringing dinner, as an excuse to see you. She would always say she was checking in, lying to herself about why she came to see you every time.

Once you had confirmed it, which was hard to do, you tried to get her to admit it for a while. You knew nothing could make Lin blush, let alone laugh, so when you were able to do both, that was the confirmation. That happened almost a week ago. Her hesitation to tell you frustrated you to no end, much like the feathers on your raven had.

Lin placed the take out boxes on the table and grabbed plates from your cabinets. Once they were on the table you both served yourselves some food.

Talk was usually minimal when you two were eating. You occasionally asked about what was happening at the station and Lin would usually tell you. She would grumble about it of course, because everyone there seemed to think her advice or orders didn’t matter to them. You would always listen, only sometimes saying things back to her about whatever she was grumbling about.

Today there was a strange call in and Lin couldn’t even finish telling you what happened before you were laughing your head off. You laughing brought a smile to her face because it was the first good thing that happened to her today.

When you two finish eating Lin is the one to clean everything up. You protest by trying to get up, but your leg seems to have a mind of its own and sends a wave of pain up your spine. You winced and sat back down in defeat.

Lin gave you another glare, but it was still soft. No anger was present, she couldn’t be angry at you. She would have done the same thing if it was her with the injury. Nothing would have stopped her from continuing to work in the station. Well you probably would and Lin would listen to you.

That was another thing that Lin would let only you do, argue. She would shut everyone else down immediately. Of course when she had tried to do that to you, you didn’t cower away like everyone else. You stood your ground against her and she admired that about you.

When she finished cleaning up dinner she moved to grab her coat and leave. You didn’t want her to. It was always what she did. Come in, eat dinner, and leave. It was nice and all, but you felt lonely cooped up all day.

“Could you stay? At least for a little while?” you asked. You sounded more desperate than you wanted, but it was how you felt.

Lin had stopped putting her coat on and looked at you. You felt like you made a mistake, but it was too late to go back now.

“We don’t have to talk or anything, I just don’t want to be alone.” You really sounded desperate now. You scolded yourself in your head for it.

“Sure,” she hesitated. “Of course.” She didn’t know why she hesitated to answer. Of course she wanted to spend time with you, that’s why she came over with dinner all the time. Bringing dinner was just the excuse though.

“You can continue painting if you want,” she suggested. You thought about it and then shrugged.

“I think I’m done working on that for today. It’s already made me frustrated enough,” you glared at the painting like that would do something.

“Are you having trouble?” she asked in disbelief. She was walking closer to the painting again, looking it over for a second time.

“Yeah, feathers are a lot harder than you think. It still doesn’t look perfect.” you had come over to the painting, on your crutches, and stood next to Lin.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she told you. “It’s beautiful.”

It was your turn to blush for the first time. You didn’t know if Lin wanted you to blush or not, but that wasn’t important. What she said was. She had always complimented your art when she came over, but it was always “This looks nice,” or a simple “Wow”. Her calling your art beautiful was like her holding your heart in her hands. Surprisingly soft for someone compared so closely to the element she could bend.

“T-Thanks,” you muttered.

“It’s been awhile since someone’s seen my art let alone compliment it,” you explained. Like that was the only reason for you to be flustered.

“I don’t understand why you ever stopped.” She looked at some of your finished watercolor paintings that were hanging by clips in front of your window.

“I never had the time when I was always at the station. I tried for a few months, but it just became stressful rather than relaxing,” you explained.

She had stopped and looked at one particular painting that stood out from the rest. It was the only non-animal painting you had. Still watercolor of course, which made it even more brilliant in Lin’s opinion.

She recognized it in a second. It was the view of the city from her office. You had painted her office. She smiled as she looked over the picture. She couldn’t see any mistakes. You truly strived for perfection in this painting.

“Oh,” you realized which painting she was looking at. “I was really missing the station that day. It made me feel better having some part of it here, even if it was a painting.”

Lin felt honored that you had chosen the view from her office as the part of the station you wanted to paint. She felt so gullible right now. Both of you felt that way.

“Thank you for always coming over,” you had said this a few times before over the past weeks.

“I honestly don’t know what I would do if you didn’t. I’d probably go crazy,” you laughed. That wasn’t entirely true. You would have found something to do, it wouldn’t have been as nice as having dinner with Lin, but it would be something.

“I’m sure you could’ve managed. Plus, there’s no one else checking up on you, so how am I supposed to know how you’re doing?” she raised an eyebrow at you.

“You could let me work at my desk,” you suggested.

“That’s not happening as long as you have that on your leg.” She pointed to the cast on your leg.

“I am perfectly capable of handling myself,” you argued.

You shouldn’t have argued. You knew that as soon as a sly smirk appeared on Lin’s face.

You had been leaning on your crutches while Lin had been talking to you. She knew that’s what you were doing and took advantage of that. She simply kicked one of the crutches out from underneath you and sent you falling to the ground.

“Shi-” You couldn’t react in enough time to find something to stop you from falling. You didn’t need to find anything because Lin wasn’t actually going to let you hit the ground.

You felt the wire wrap around your waist and hold you in your almost fallen position. You looked up at Lin who still had that smirk on her face.

“Y’know you really are mean,” you said jokingly. She grabbed your arm and pulled you back up. You leaned on her for support since you had dropped your other crutch while falling.

“I try,” she smiles. “Comes with the job.”

“Yet you rarely are to me.” you continued to lean on her.

“Because I don’t need to be with you. You actually listen to what I say,” she told you. You weren’t the only person who listens to her, Mako occasionally does, but that’s only after she scolds him.

“One, you’re my boss and two its kind of hard to ignore what you say,” you explained. Was this you admitting how you sometimes got lost in whatever she was saying? Yes it was.

“Everyone else has a pretty easy time ignoring me,” Lin counters. She took what you said as a compliment, in a way. She wasn’t sure what you were trying to say, so she couldn’t tell herself that it was really a compliment.

Your words were caught in your throat. How exactly could you tell her that you got lost in her voice. That sometimes your heart flutters around her the same way you know hers does around you. You really couldn’t explain in words. So you didn’t.

Did you regret moving in to kiss her? No, not one bit. Hell you were glad you finally did it because you knew Lin had been dodging around her feelings for weeks.

Her arms snaked around to hold you by the waist and you wrapped your arms around her neck. It felt so good, it felt perfect. You wanted to stay like that forever. But unfortunately both of you still need air to breath so you have to stop.

“You…” Lin began before pausing.

“Oh don’t act coy with me. You don’t think I’ve figured out why you come here so often?” You watched embarrassment flood her face.

“Not that I would have wanted it any differently,” you smiled. That made her feel better.

“Am I not allowed to worry?” She asked. She looked at you and the shell, the armor, that she wore to keep her emotions hidden was off. She was out in the open, her heart in your hands.

“You are. I’m glad you do,” you were still smiling. Of course you wanted her to worry, it made you feel loved.

“I still want to go back to my desk though,” you complained.

“What am I going to do with you?” she sighed.

“Love me?” you gave her a cheesy grin.

She rolled her eyes and kissed you again. Mostly to make sure you weren’t going to ask to go back to the station. You were hers to protect and she was going to make sure that you stayed here until your leg healed. Even if she didn’t bring dinner every night.

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze pt. 15/25

Previous

___________

The staffroom was strangely quiet. It had been ever since Stregobor had been suspended. Triss had anticipated a gleeful celebration after the man had left the building but instead the teacher’s all seemed particularly morose. It was as if they had been reminded how quickly they could lose their jobs. One wrong remark and they could been here one week and gone the next.

There hadn’t been any updates on the investigation against Stregobor but Triss was optimistic. Somedays it seemed like she was the only one but she had to remain optimistic for her own sanity. She had to believe it had all been worth it. There had been so many testimonies against the headmaster and really he’d made hell for everyone over his years at the school. The teachers had suffered his wandering eyes and the students that he took a shine to were bullied beyond belief. It was all the other teachers could do just to shield their young pupils from his wrath, and even then it hadn’t always been successful.

She stirred her soup with a heavy sigh. Maybe she could visit Yennefer at the weekend. A night out in Cidaris would do her some good. She glanced around the almost silent room. She missed the lunch time gossip, she missed the endless chatter and she missed the sound of Jaskier plucking at whatever instrument he’d chosen for the day.

She barely saw her friend now.

She thought he would have been delighted and giddy with excitement after Valdo left but that evening he’d locked himself in her guest room and that had been it. A week later he’d been allowed to move back to his flat and he’d barely glanced in her direction on the way out.

She��d managed to corner him in his classroom one lunch break but it hadn’t gone at all well. She’d teased him about Geralt as was their way and she’d expected him to dramatically swoon or make some crude remark and then they’d giggle over it until the bell rang.

Instead he’d practically pushed her out of the room claiming to be too busy for idle gossip about parents.

Now instead of a cheery wave when he passed her desk in the mornings, he mumbled a strained hello before moving on.

She was starting to wonder whether she’d done something wrong.

Or perhaps Tissaia had challenged him over his crush on Geralt. Now she was headmistress she was responsible for ensuring the staff behaved appropriately.

Either way something was wrong, and she was going to find out. She hated to see her friend hurting. She was going to fix this because she was Triss Merigold and fixing things is what she did best.

She picked up her bag and danced out of the room towards Jaskier’s classroom. There was no music playing so she knocked on the door. She heard scuffling from inside the room before Jaskier beckoned her in.

He rolled his eyes when he saw her but she ignored him. Whatever was wrong with him, he was being childish, more so than the kids he taught.

“What can I do for you, Ms Merigold?” He asked wearily.

His hair fell limply in front of his eyes. He was probably due a cut but he normally took a lot more care in his appearance at school. He was ghostly pale and he looked exhausted. His shirt hadn’t been ironed and he had ketchup stains on his trousers.

He was a mess.

“Jaskier.” She plopped down on top of the one of the desks in the front row. “What’s going on?”

He frowned. “Nothing at all.”

“You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Charming as ever Ms Merigold.”

“My name is Triss, Jaskier.” She chided. “And you’ve never had a problem in using it before. I can see something is wrong. Tell me.”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped.

“You are my friend.” She insisted. “And as my friend, it hurts me when you shut me out.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit!” She yelled. “You are clearly not sleeping. I don’t think you’ve had lunch in two weeks. You barely even talk to me anymore and I don’t think I’ve heard you play any music outside of class since Stregobor left!”

“I’m just so heartbroken by his disappearance.” He muttered sarcastically but flinched at his own words.

“I know we haven’t been good friends for that long Jaskier but let me in. It helps to talk about it.” She insisted.

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Triss.” Jaskier shook his head. “I would have had nowhere to stay if not for you. I am indebted.”

Triss laughed. “Nonsense! But if you really want to pay me back then you can buy me a drink next time we go to the pub after work? What about tonight, it’s been a while since we went out.”

He bristled and glared fiercely at her. “No drinks.”

“Ok fine. What about coffee?” She tried to keep her growing frustration out of her voice but he was being infuriatingly stubborn.

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. You can buy my lunch for a week but remember I’m a vegetarian.” She smirked, hoping her gentle teasing would lift his gloom.

He scowled. “Fine. That would be acceptable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jask.”

“Don’t call me that!” He spat and launched out of his seat and across the room in a heartbeat.

Triss took a deep breath to calm herself. Her friend was acting like a spooked horse. She couldn’t work out which words were going to send him flying.

“Jaskier?” She reached out to him. He looked at her with tears shining in his eyes. “Can I hug you?”

He nodded and flung himself into her waiting arms, sobbing against her shoulder. She stroked his hair whilst he exhausted himself with his tears. It couldn’t have been for very long, lunch time was almost over and the bell never rang but eventually his shoulders stilled and he was able to take steady breaths again. “What happened Jaskier?”

“I fell in love.” His voice cracked, muffled as he pressed his face into her shirt.

“Geralt?” She had to ask, she couldn’t think of anyone else but she had to ask.

She’d seen Jaskier get crushes before and he was never subtle. She remembered his fling with Stella . He’d sung her praises for months before she’d cheated on him and he’d come back in the spring term with fire in his heart and a whole new repertoire about heartbreak and betrayal.

But he’d never been this broken.

He tensed up in her arms. “Fuck.” He pushed away and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I need to go and clean up.”

“Jaskier.” She pleaded. “Tell me what happened.”

“I already did.”

She scoffed. “Hardly.”

“I fell in love and we know that can’t fucking happen. I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I will be fine.” He amended. “I fall out of love faster than I fall into it.” He finished with a flick of his wrist.

He swooped from the room without looking back and she sighed.

She didn’t know how to fix this.

___________________________

It took another week of Jaskier’s self pity before Triss managed to think of a plan. He was showing signs of getting better. He’d started eating lunch in the staffroom again, and she’d even seen him scribbling in his notebook. He was still avoiding any instruments and it seemed as if he would never get rid of the dark circles around his eyes but he was getting better.

In the end it was Ciri that sparked her into action. She’d been on end of school pick up duty when she’d heard Ciri talking to her babysitter.

“Coën?” The ashen-haired girl had asked as he helped her with her bag that had been falling from her shoulders.

“Yes, cub?”

“I think Mr Jaskier is sad.” She replied glumly. “He doesn’t smile much anymore.”

Triss’s heart ached in her chest.

“Maybe he’s just tired.” Coën suggested.

Ciri shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I think he’s upset with us.”

Coën pulled the girl into a hug. “What if I get your dad to email him and ask what’s wrong?”

Ciri stuck her tongue out as she considered the question and then nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want him to be sad anymore.”

After that they had walked out of the school gates and Triss hadn’t heard anymore of their conversation but Ciri’s words left a lasting impression.

As soon as the last child was bundled into their parent’s car, Triss fled the car park and marched to Tissaia’s office.

The older woman was buried under a mountain of paperwork. There were messy sketches dotted around her desk at odd intervals and her friend looked like she really needed the Beltane holidays to come round sooner rather than later.

She glanced up when she’d notice Triss had entered her office. “Triss? Everything alright?”

Triss was momentarily distracted by the sheer amount of work on Tissaia’s desk. “Shit, you look like you’re drowning under all of that!”

Tissaia pursed her lips and sat up straighter in her chair. “A necessary evil. It’s shame Philippa didn’t send a third teacher to take over my position when I stepped up” The headmistress looked thoughtfully at her. “But that’s not why you came?”

Triss shook her head. “Hypothetically speaking….”

“Hypothetically?” Tissaia raised an eyebrow as she straightened the cuffs of her shirt.

“Completely hypothetically. What would happen if a teacher started to date a parent?” Triss twisted a lock of hair nervously between her fingers. “Is there actually in their contracts that say they can’t?”

Tissaia smirked. “No. Nothing like that but it is seriously frowned upon, and there are other clauses that could get the teacher into trouble. Favouring one student over another for example.”

“Yes but, if two adults genuinely care about it each other. Isn’t it cruel to keep them apart?” Triss insisted. “What if one the teacher’s had a kid starting school? That would be favouritism but they can’t not go to school?”

Tissaia sighed. “Triss. Is there something you need to tell me? Perhaps about a certain year two teacher.”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Triss shouted before clapping a hand over her mouth. “They never dated as far as I’m aware.” She said more quietly. “But you know Jaskier.”

“I do.” Tissaia nodded.

“He wears his heart on his sleeve.” Triss pleaded with her friend to see reason. “Tissaia. Please. He’s miserable.”

“There’s nothing I can do, Triss.” Tissaia held her gaze steadily, her eyes as cold as ice.

“Bullshit!” She accused.

Tissaia’s gaze softened and she gave Triss a sad smile. “I wish I could. I’m no monster, Triss. I have noticed his sudden change in mood. I’d suspected Geralt might have been the cause. I was hoping that it meant whatever might have been going on between them was finished. I didn’t want to have to turn a blind-eye to their obvious flirtations.”

“Would you have?” Triss asked. “If Jaskier wasn’t acting like a heartbroken fool and was still simpering over Geralt? Would you have turned a blind-eye?”

Tissaia looked away. “Love is a powerful force. It would be foolish to fight it.”

“Does Jaskier know?” Triss asked sharply.

Tissaia shook her head. “I can’t get involved.”

“But if he found out?” She persisted.

“Well that’s out of my hands.”

Triss grinned and pulled her friend into a side-hug. It was a little awkward with Tissaia still sitting down but Triss didn’t care. “Thank you!”

__________________

Unfortunately for Triss her plan to save whatever had been brewing between the fireman and her friend was harder than she had anticipated. Jaskier was still flighty and hard to pin down. He was making more of an effort now to talk to her and plastered a fake smile on his face whilst he was a work but any mention of Geralt, no matter how small, sent him hurtling out of the room faster than the speed of light. She was trying to tell him that Tissaia wouldn’t be against his flirtations but the damned teacher just wouldn’t listen to her. He was acting like a wounded cat that had been backed into a corner.

It was beyond infuriating.

She needed help. She tapped her nails on her desk as she stared at her phone. She could get in trouble for using the number without a valid reason but she was running out of options and her friend was hurting. She scrolled through her contacts and hovered over Yennefer’s number. Yennefer would want to help Geralt, and if Triss mentioned that Ciri was sad about her teacher then that would help sway Yennefer to her way of thinking.

Plus she was less likely to get into trouble by calling Yennefer.

More likely to get herself murdered in her sleep though.

She grinned and rolled her eyes. She knew her best friend wouldn’t hurt her really, the other woman could just be a little prickly at times, especially when it came to Geralt and Ciri.

She flicked back through her phone, took a deep breath and dialled the number from her screen. She waited with bated breath whilst the phone rang. She almost hung up a couple of times, her nerves nearly getting the better of her, before someone picked up on other end of the line.

“Kaer Morhen Fire Station.”

It sounded like Vesemir which was a relief. She’d spoken to the kindly old man a few times when there had been problems at the school and when the older fireman had been trying to organise the event for the kids.

“Vesemir?” She asked to be sure.

“Speaking.” He grunted

“Hi, It’s Triss Merigold.” She started to say.

“From the school. Yes yes. Geralt’s on a job right now.” Vesemir stated. “Is Ciri alright?”

Triss smiled to herself. Young Ciri seemed to have the entire fire station wrapped around her little finger. From what Yennefer had told her, Geralt’s rota, the wolf pack, were like one giant family and Ciri was the latest addition to the family. She was aware the young girl had spent the holidays with the wolves but it still warmed her heart to hear the immediate concern in the older fireman’s voice.

“She’s fine. I’m calling about Geralt.” Triss said hurriedly in case anyone entered the foyer and overheard her half of the conversation.

Vesemir huffed on the other side of the line. “This isn’t a work call is it, Ms Merigold?”

Triss smiled serenely and put on her best angelic voice. “In a manner of speaking, of course it is.”

“Explain.” Vesemir said in a gruff voice.

“I was just wondering if Mr Rivia had been acting any differently in the last.” She paused whilst she counted the dates back in her head. “three weeks or so.”

There was silence on the other end of the call.

“Because there's been an unfortunate development on my end.” Triss continued.

“Mr Pankratz?” Vesemir asked.

Triss hummed her agreement. “It’s been a sorry sight.”

Vesemir sighed. “I don’t know what you expect me to say, Ms Merigold. Geralt has been fine. If anything he’s been more focussed than I’ve seen him for months. I’d assumed he’d finally managed to balance his work and home life. It’s been a relief.”

Triss frowned. “But is he happy?”

Vesemir laughed. “He’s doing his job well and the team are more efficient than ever. I’m sure if there were any problems that wouldn’t be the case Ms Merigold. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Triss slunk forward on her desk. She hadn’t realise how much she’d been relying on Vesemir’s help from Geralt’s side but if the silver-haired fireman wasn’t affected at all by whatever was ailing Jaskier then perhaps she had overestimated Geralt’s feelings. She had been sure Geralt had liked Jaskier. He always seemed more than happy to see him, whenever they had cause to interact.

“Ok. Well thanks anyway. Sorry for bothering you.” She mumbled.

“I appreciate your concern, Ms Merigold.” Vesemir hung up.

Triss swore under her breath. She began to think that maybe she was getting too involved in matters that didn’t involve her but she did care about Jaskier. She’d begun to almost see him like a younger brother and she was fond of him. She’d watched Geralt break one of her friend’s hearts already and she didn’t want to go through it all again.

He may be one good-looking man but he was starting to get on her nerves.

Her desk phone began to rang and she rolled her eyes. She recognised the number. It belonged to one of the parents of the Foxgloves. The father in question had not taken the news about Mr Marx well and had taken an instant dislike to Filavandrel. The man had been ringing almost daily to try and get his daughter transferred to the Buttercups, and despite numerous attempts at explaining that Mr Pankratz’s class was full, he wouldn’t take no for any answer.

Still, Triss had some pent up frustration. Maybe a good heated discussion with a parent would let it out.

She grinned menacingly as she picked up the phone.

“Dol Blathanna School. Ms Merigold speaking.” She trilled sweetly into the receiver and she drew some vines in the margin of her notebook.

______________________________

That weekend Triss was browsing through the aisles of the local garden centre when she bumped into one of the other firemen, the sandy blond with the vicious scar down his face.

She was looking through the rows of seeds for some new plants for her garden. She had a selection of herbs growing nicely in her kitchen for when she was cooking but she was looking to experiment with making her own loose tea mixes. She already used her mint plant to make tea, peppermint in particular was good for the digestive system and she wasn’t exactly well blessed in that department. She often felt sick after eating and the peppermint helped to settle her stomach. She thought about growing some chamomile flowers. They looked not too dissimilar to daisies and would be perfect for spring time, plus the flowers were known to help relax and she’d felt the stress build up since the beginning of the month.

Maybe if she blended it with lavender she could make a nice nighttime tea.

That was her last thought before her basket went flying and she fell into a wall of muscle.

“Oh shit!” The wall steadied her in his arms. “Are you ok?”

Triss looked up at the man. He was taller than she was by a good few inches but he seemed gentle and kind. She thanked him and gathered up her shopping, turning back to the rows of seeds.

The fireman was watching her. She could feel his burning emerald gaze on the back of her neck. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

He blushed which made her smirk, the poor man probably hadn’t even realised, and then he scratched the back of his neck. “You’re from the school right?”

Triss tilted her head and picked up a packet of seeds from the hooks in front of her. Lemon Balm, could be a good addition to her nighttime blend. “What of it?” She asked cautiously. “I can’t tell you anything about the kids if that’s what you’re wondering. Not even Ciri.”

He visibly paled. “Oh gods no. That’s not. No.”

She laughed and let her fingers brush over the packets of seeds. Perhaps some ginger? That would certainly help to soothe her stomach. It was a natural anti-nauseant. “Then what can I do for you, fireman?”

“Eskel. I’m a friend of Geralt’s. He’s like a brother really. Well, not my real brother, Lambert. Melitele knows he’s a pain in the ass.” Eskel wittered on aimlessly.

Triss laughed. “Ah yes. The hot-headed fireman. Yennefer has mentioned him on occasion and he was at the school right?”

“Ah yes. Yeah. We both were.” Eskel grinned.

Triss remembered. She remembered Jaskier drooling over the lot of them when they’d walked through the doors, and quite rightly so. They were certainly a good-looking bunch of men. “You were both on the hose, right?”

Eskel nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well,” Triss said as she dropped one last packet of seeds into her basket. It was a wildflower mix designed to help attract bees to the garden. She was looking to leave a small patch of her garden to grow wildly and this would help. “It was nice to meet you, Eskel.”

“Wait.” Eskel moved in front of her and Triss froze, glaring up at the fireman. He seemed to realise his mistake and took a step back away from her. “Please.”

She put her free hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows at the man. “Go on, quickly.”

“You asked Vesemir about Geralt, right?” Eskel said quickly.

“I did, I thought he might have had an argument or something with a friend of mine.” Triss agreed quietly. “I was wrong.”

“You were right.” Eskel countered. “Vesemir hasn’t noticed because he’s stuck in the office. Geralt’s been a miserable grumpy bastard the last few weeks, more prickly than Lambert.” He laughed but Triss didn’t really understand the joke. “How’s the teacher?”

“Sadder than a puppy left outside the pet shop.” Triss rolled her eyes. “Heartbroken and sulking.”

“Do you know what happened?” Eskel asked and Triss shook her head.

“He won’t talk about it, he practically runs from the room at the mention of Geralt.”

“White Wolf’s the same.” Eskel nodded sombrely

“So Geralt did like Jaskier?” Triss asked with a tilt of her head.

Eskel rolled his eyes. “He was absolutely smitten. It was driving us nuts but at least it was better than this grumpy pity party, he was at least happy before.”

“You’ll help me fix this then?” Triss asked.

“I’ll do my best.” Eskel held out his hand and Triss shook it before pulling a pen from her purse and scribbling her number on the back of his hand.

Maybe all was not lost after all. _______

Next

[smooshjames]

forget you not (iv)

you knock on my door and tell me you don’t wanna fight (or: inside jokes and invitations)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: part four of forget you not! this is the second to last part as it stands right now, but i am toying with the idea of writing an epilogue. i haven’t made up my mind on that front quite yet, it’ll probably depend on if there’s any demand for an epilogue once the parts i’ve got written are all finished up. anyway, the usual disclaimers: i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned, they all belong to little mix, this chapter’s songs are here and here (no new ones this time, but i figure i’ll link them anyway for the sake of easy access). here is a link to my ko-fi, which, as usual, is never an obligation. thank you for taking the time to read this, and i hope you enjoy!

warnings: more angst (surprising, right?), an author who is very bad at sketch comedy trying to write characters who are very good at sketch comedy

previous parts: one, two, three

With the red dot on the cameras blinking, you knew it was even more important now that you kept up that positive facade. You did your best to think about good things, hoping your smile wouldn’t look too forced.

To your right, Shayne launched into an energetic intro where he explained the rules of the game and introduced you guys as guests. Once he had given his little speech, he turned to you, though his eyes were fixed on the partition over your shoulder. Still, his smile didn’t waver for even a second. “So, are you guys ready to play?”

You nodded enthusiastically and laughed in easy agreement as you were elected to be the first person in the stool. You filled your mouth with water and flashed a thumbs-up, and out came Alexis. She used an inside joke, which was probably cheating, but it made you spit your water out anyway.

The game went on like this for a while, until finally, the only person yet to try to make you laugh was Shayne. You braced yourself as he asked if you were ready, humming an affirmative and doing your best to keep your breathing even.

He came out holding a red telephone, which he set on top of the bongos.

“Watch this,” he said, flashing you a shit-eating grin. For a second, you felt yourself tilting forward into that grin, into those eyes. Your heart jackhammered in your chest. It was the first genuine smile he’d given you all day, and God it was beautiful. “Hi, Dominos? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion.

“Watch this though,” he said. He mashed his finger against the phone buttons and lifted it again. “Hi, Pizza Hut? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

And then he nodded at you a little, smiling expectantly. When you didn’t laugh, he held up one finger. “Watch this though.”

With his free hand, he made a sort of waving motion in the direction of the partition, and out came Damien holding an identical red phone. He handed it to you and then went back to where all the props were. Shayne dialed his phone and made a little ringing sound effect for emphasis. You picked up your phone.

“Hi, Y/N?” he asked. You hummed something vaguely resembling “hello” into the receiver, figuring you might as well play along with the bit. In the same voice, with that same shit-eating grin, he said, “you’re my favorite singer.”

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the strange vocal inflection or the mirth in his eyes as he said it, but sure enough, you sprayed water all over the soundstage. Shayne laughed gleefully as you did so, and the sound of it made you forget to breathe for just a second; you hadn’t heard that laugh in years. It made your chest ache to hear it again. In a sort of daze, you handed him your prop and he took it backstage.

Everyone came back out and you had to choose who made you laugh the hardest. You picked Damien, who had pranced out in an insanely tangled red wig with a stuffed flamingo in one hand, partially because he had made you laugh really hard and partially because you were trying to procrastinate Shayne's turn as much as possible.

Damien’s round passed quickly, and you managed to make him laugh after a few seconds. He chose Piper to go next, so she took her place on the stool. You went backstage with everyone else and started sifting through props to think of a bit.

And then Shayne fully took his shirt off.

You froze halfway through picking up a cowboy hat. You were pretty sure that anyone listening closely enough could’ve heard the gears in your brain grinding to a halt.

You wondered, if you started running now, how far into the ocean you could get before anyone noticed you were gone.

Carly nudged you with her elbow and asked you to help her with a bit, forcing you to turn away from Shayne, which was probably for the best. You took the opportunity to remind yourself that not only did he have a new girlfriend, but that the two of you didn’t work. You never had and you never would.

And before you knew it, Piper’s round was over, and Shayne was up next. You felt a bolt of panic. You knew you could make him laugh, but you weren’t sure how to go about doing it and you were rapidly running out of time to figure it out. Finally, you decided against every bit of logic you had. You decided to just go with an inside joke.

He probably wouldn’t remember it, anyway. It didn’t really matter. If you didn’t make him laugh it wasn’t the end of the world. At the end of that day, you were just here to promote the band. 

At least, this is what you told yourself as you stood behind the partition waiting for your turn. But your hands were trembling anyway.

Your turn came up. Alexis gave you a little high five on your way out. You walked up to Shayne’s right side and leaned in close to him, careful not to touch him. You looked at him through your eyelashes and shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Hey,” you said, voice low and sultry. Shayne’s brows knitted in confusion, and you feared for a moment that he had forgotten. You were probably only half-audible to the mics, but you didn’t care. You were focused single-mindedly on making Shayne laugh. “I was just wondering… do you like tacos?” You were careful to drag out the vowels on the word ‘tacos.’ You heard Damien start giggling behind the partition.

At least he remembered.

And then Shayne’s eyes widened and he surged forward as he tried to keep the water in. Your heart skipped a beat, though you couldn’t quite pin down why.

“Do you like tacos, Shayne? Do you?” you asked, leaning a little closer. You felt more confident now that you knew he remembered the joke. “Tell me how much you like tacos, Shayne.”

That did the trick. He sprayed water everywhere, shrieking with laughter as he did so.

Once the water was cleaned up, everyone else came back out from behind the partition and Shayne chose Alexis to go next.

After Alexis, it was Carly’s turn, and then you were all done. You had even finished a little bit ahead of schedule.

Ian came over once the cameras were cut, smiling brightly. “That was really good, you guys! Thanks so much for coming in today.”

“Thanks for having us!” Alexis said. “It was a ton of fun.”

You nodded in agreement but you were only half-listening. Shayne had somehow ended up right next to you during the outro of the video, and he hadn't made an effort to move away after the cameras stopped rolling. He was close to you, maybe a little closer than necessary, and that fact was all you could focus on.

As you were listening to Ian talk about when the video would be released, you felt Shayne wrap his hand around your forearm, squeezing lightly to get your attention. That one simple touch set your entire right side on fire. You felt like he’d lit off a fireworks display under your skin. You turned to face him, and you couldn’t help noticing that he looked more than a little bit like a kicked puppy.

“Can we talk?” he asked. His voice was soft, a stark contrast to how loud he’d been just minutes before as you were filming the video outro. “Just for a few minutes, please?”

At these questions, a knot of mixed emotion -- fear, anger, a little misguided hope -- gathered in a knot at the base of your spine and squeezed so hard you went lightheaded with it.

You glanced around for Michelle, who was watching you like a hawk. You tilted your head toward Shayne and shrugged. She nodded.

“Okay,” you replied. In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you said yes. You didn’t know what he could possibly have to say to you. Your mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios; that he would rub his new girlfriend in your face, that he would say something mean or insulting, that he would tear down what little you had managed to build yourself up. You wrestled those ideas into submission, though. Shayne had made his mistakes, but he had never been intentionally cruel.

He led you back through the office until he found an empty conference room. You closed the door behind you as you entered.

“What’s up?” you asked. You cringed as it was coming out of your mouth. Really? What’s up?

Now that you were alone, some of his forced Funny Man bravado seemed to crumble away. His shoulders slumped and the shine went out of his eyes, and the look he gave you was sad, exhausted.

You felt like the earth was rotating the wrong way, like God had vacuum sealed the room shut, like Saturn was crashing into Jupiter and imploding on impact.

“I, um…” he mumbled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and chuckled nervously. For a moment, you were reminded of the first time he’d asked you out. You’d both been so young then, and he had been all nerves and goofy smiles. You knew even from that first conversation that you were a goner. “I should’ve planned out what I was gonna say, huh? I had all weekend to think about it.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said. “This weekend has been… a series of really fucking weird, awful coincidences. You don’t have to, like, apologize. We’ll just chalk it up to being a series of unfortunate events.”

His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly, which really intensified the whole kicked puppy vibe he had going. Your heart ached, and there was a moment where the muscles in your legs twitched, where your body tried to move itself over to him without your brain’s consent.

You stayed rooted to your place.

“What?” he asked, voice small, barely even audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

You shrugged. “It’s okay, Shayne. I’m not, like, upset that you moved on --”

Bold-faced lie number one.

“Wait,” he said, but you couldn’t hear him over the blood roaring through your ears.

“-- and Courtney seems really nice, so I’m happy that you’re happy --”

Bold-faced lie number two.

“No, just --” he tried to interrupt you again, but you kept going.

“-- and I’m sorry that we had to see each other again in this context, it’s been… really fucking weird. But that doesn’t mean you need to try to make it better, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Bold-faced lie number three.

Before you could conjure up more ways to end the conversation and escape the room, Shayne took a halting step forward.

“Courtney and I aren’t dating,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut as your brain slammed on the brakes. “We’re just friends. I went to the concert with her because the person she was supposed to go with canceled last minute and she couldn’t find anybody else.”

Oh.

“And I’m sorry we had to see each other again in this context, too, but not because I want to patronize you by telling you that I’m sorry things didn’t work out. I mean I am sorry things didn’t work out, but not in like a My Life Is Better Now, Sorry About That kinda way --” he stopped, faltering, obviously unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

Oh.

“I mean, if anything, you’re the one who’s better now; --” wait, what? “-- you’re successful, doing what you love, surrounded by your friends, and you’ve clearly moved on. --” wait, what? “-- But I just wanted to talk to you because… I don’t really know why, honestly. Because a part of me is still twenty-one and in love with you, I guess.”

So that was what it was like to have every organ in your body simultaneously crushed under a hydraulic press. Interesting.

You couldn’t think of anything poetic to say, so you settled for what seemed the most pressing. “You think I cried on stage singing Towers, a song I wrote about you, because I’m over you? You think I’m the one who’s moved on?”

He shrugged meekly. “I don’t know. That was just one song. You sang a hell of a lot of other songs about how you don’t need a man, about how your life is great. And those aren’t bad things! They were really good songs, but I just assumed --”

“Carly and Alexis wrote all those songs,” you said flatly. He fell silent. “I just sing them.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity, and then there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Shayne said, his eyes still locked on yours.

A tall brunet man with a thick beard opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Hey,” he said. “There’s a meeting in here in five minutes.” And then he looked between the two of you, and his eyes narrowed. You figured the tension in the room was so palpable, even a stranger could pick up on it. “Everything okay, Shayne?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Shayne replied. “We’ll be out of here in a minute. Sorry, Matt.”

“No problem,” the man, Matt, said. He nodded at you in acknowledgment, seeming more than a little confused at your presence. The door closed softly as he left.

“It’s probably for the best,” you said. “Michelle will have a coronary if I’m gone for too long. Places to be, people to see, insanely specific and personal questions to answer.”

He laughed a little bit, nodding, and for a moment the heavy awkwardness that had settled in the room seemed to lift just slightly. “Is your number still the same?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why?”

“I’ll text you my new address. Um, if you can, if you want to, it would probably be good for you to come over tonight to talk a little more. I can order some dinner for us. Only if you want to. I just don’t think… I don’t want to leave things this way.”

A sudden bolt of anger streaked through you, fiery hot. You clenched your jaw. He didn’t want to leave things this way? He had no qualms with leaving things this way when he’d let your entire relationship go down the drain all those years ago. And now he just got to waltz back in and invite you over for dinner and pretend he didn’t cause you the worst heartbreak you’d ever felt? After you had finally gotten yourself close to okay again, he got to come back in and ruin everything, knock you right back down to where you started? That wasn’t fucking fair.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” you said, and it wasn’t a lie. You still had one more interview after leaving the Smosh offices. You’d be completely worn out by the time that was done, especially on top of the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster that you’d boarded against your will.

“I’ll send the address anyway,” Shayne said. “Don’t feel pressured to come. If you don’t, I completely get it. You can delete the text and block my number if you want. I swear that after this I’ll never bother you again. But just in case.”

“Okay,” you replied. You really didn’t want to argue with him. You just wanted to track down Michelle and the band and go on your way to the next interview and try to forget about everything that had happened in the last three days. “Fine.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, and after a moment you felt your own vibrate in your back pocket. You wondered briefly if he had your number memorized, which would have been kind of weird, or if he’d just never deleted your contact information. The notion that the latter might be true made your heart skip a beat.

Once he had repocketed his phone, he looked up at you. There was a moment of lingering silence where it was clear that neither of you knew what to say.

Finally, you lifted your hand in farewell. “It’s been, um… it was good to see you again, Shayne.” Bold-faced lie number four. “Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he said.

Doing your best to ignore the tightness in his voice, you walked past him out of the room and scurried off to meet up with the band. You found them talking to Courtney, Damien, and another girl that you didn’t recognize. She was about Courtney’s height, Chinese, with brown hair and eyes.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” Piper asked.

“I think so,” you said. You turned to Damien and nodded your head over your shoulder. “Got a minute for goodbye?”

He nodded and the two of you retreated away from the rest of the group, not leaving their view but definitely out of earshot. “I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you,” he said.

“It’s okay, Damien, really,” you replied. You reached out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “This weekend was wild for everybody involved. At least we got to see each other again, right? This has been really nice.”

He grinned and pulled you into another bear hug. “Yeah, it has been,” he said, and you felt it as a rumble in his chest more than you actually heard it. When you parted, he left one hand lingering on your arm and squeezed lightly before it dropped to his side. “Call sometime, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“Will do, Dames.” You glanced over your shoulder and saw Michelle looking at you expectantly. She tapped her wristwatch. You sighed. “I gotta run. I’ll see you around.”

He nodded and said a final goodbye before you turned to make your way back to the band. You noted on your way that Shayne had returned from the conference room. He was talking to Courtney and the brunette now.

You ignored the feeling of his eyes on you as you walked out of the offices and into the LA sunlight beyond.

***

Shayne came back from the conference room a few seconds after you did. He did his best not to watch you and Damien saying goodbye, did his best to push down the surge of jealousy as you hugged him. You were smiling up at him and it seemed easy, carefree. It was like you’d just seen each other yesterday. He wished he could be like that with you, even though he knew why he couldn’t. He was doomed to sad smiles and airless rooms and awkward tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

If time travel was real, he’d go back to that final night with you and kick his own ass.

Damien’s hand on his shoulder startled him out of his self-loathing. He turned to face his best friend and didn’t bother concealing the hurt on his face; Damien would see right past it even if he tried.

“You okay?” Damien asked. Shayne let out a strangled laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay.

“I feel like somebody tried to wring all the water out of my body,” he replied.

“What’s up with you today?” Courtney asked, and Shayne startled. He’d sort of forgotten she was there.

Shayne sighed. He figured he might as well tell her; she’d probably find out at some point anyway. That or she’d piece it together herself.

“Y/N and I used to be a couple, way back when,” he said. Courtney’s eyes went almost comically wide. “And it… didn’t end very well. Seeing each other again has been really fucking weird for both of us.”

“That’s why she cried when she sang Towers,” Courtney said, more to herself than to anyone in the room. She looked at Damien. “Is that why you know her? ‘Cause of her and Shayne?”

Damien shook his head. “Me and her were friends first. I introduced them.”

Courtney nodded slowly, obviously trying to process this new information. “Oh,” she said. Shayne couldn’t tell where her brain was (he rarely could). If he had to guess, he’d say she was probably combing over her every memory of the past weekend and looking for any indications of the history between you and Shayne. Sure enough, she continued after a moment: “that’s why she looked so constipated when we were at the photo op, and why you ‘needed some air’ halfway through the concert, and why you got all weird when I put my arm around your shoulders before, and why you disappeared after --” she stopped, her brows furrowing for a moment and then raising suddenly. She smirked. “Where’d you go after you finished filming, Shayne? You both came back pretty much at the same time.”

“Courtney --” Shayne said, voice scolding, trying to get her to stop whatever hellish train of thought she was getting onto.

“You’re still in love with her, huh?” Olivia said. She’d been silent for most of the conversation, but she was looking at him like she could see into his soul. Shayne froze. Was he that fucking obvious?

“Still in love with who?” Ian’s voice to his left startled him.

Courtney and Olivia stopped talking now, which Shayne was grateful for. They at least had the decency to let Shayne tell Ian on his own. Everyone looked from Ian to Shayne and back.

“Uh --” Shayne said. “I, um…”

“Is this about whatever weird shit is between you and the girl from the band?” Ian asked. Shayne threw his hands in the air, frustrated. Did the whole world know? Was he that easy to read?

“How did you…?”

“I’ve known you for almost five years, Shayne,” Ian replied. “You looked like you wanted to die during that entire shoot. There were a couple of moments it was so bad that I almost asked Courtney to come in and take your place. But the crew people said it didn’t come through on camera, so I just chalked it up to the fact that I know you so well. You also left with her right after we were done filming. Putting two and two together here doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist.”

Shayne sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which made it look even more insane than it usually did. “We dated years ago. The way it ended was my fault. I shouldn’t have broken up with her. I shouldn’t have let her go. She was… she is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. This weekend has rubbed everything I did wrong right into my face.”

“Is that it, then?” Courtney asked. “She walks out of here and you let her? After the universe, fate, whatever you wanna call it put in all the effort to bring you together again… you let her go? You repeat your biggest mistake?”

Shayne had to force down an anguished sound at that. He knew Courtney was trying to get him to chase after you, but in reality, she was probably right. You wouldn’t want to come to his apartment to talk things out. You wouldn’t want to see him after everything. You wouldn’t forgive him. And he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, anyway. You were absolutely right to ignore the invitation.

“I asked if she would come over,” he said. He was trying to be hopeful. But he’d seen the way your eyes narrowed when he invited you to his place. Your jaw had dropped and then tightened in that way it did when you were torn between anger and disbelief. “If she does, maybe we can talk things out. But it’s been years. I don’t know if she’ll… I don’t know, you guys.”

He was breathing, that much he knew, but he was sort of starting to wonder if someone had poked a hole in his trachea because he was pretty sure the air wasn’t making it to his lungs. He looked around at his friends, all staring at him like he should know the answer, like he should be able to just whip a magical solution out of his ass and call it a day, a happy ending with a neat little bow.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” he said, a little louder than necessary, because the room was suddenly way too fucking small. Before anyone could object, he walked quickly away from the group and down the hall until he found an empty soundstage. He slumped against the wall and slid down onto the ground. The events of the last three days were piling onto his shoulders like bricks. Memories of you were branded onto his brain and he couldn’t stop replaying them, a highlight reel of what he’d had and what he’d lost. You, years ago, laughing and looking at him like he was the only person in the room. You, years ago, standing in the living room, looking at him like he’d just driven a knife through your heart.

In an instant, he felt like Atlas, holding the weight of his own mistakes. Holding memories both good and bad; your first date, your first kiss, your first fight. You had said ‘I love you’ first because he wasn't brave enough, and you’d looked terrified as you did it, like you were afraid he’d laugh at you and push you away. You’d always looked half-scared, he realized; scared of rejection and pain and heartbreak. And he’d gone and thrown those fears right back in your face.

It took about three seconds for Shayne to collapse in on himself. He barely made it to the couch before his knees gave out on him. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, desperately trying to process whatever the hell had just happened.

You were gone, and the apartment felt empty without you. It was a new type of loneliness, one he’d never experienced before. He felt a little like his chest was caving in and little like he was astral projecting, like he wasn’t quite contained within the walls of his body. He reached for his phone and sent you a barely-coherent text, apologizing and asking you to come home. And then he texted Damien and asked if he was home. He needed someone’s company.

He stared up at his ceiling while he awaited a response, considering all the things that had led him to this newest, most monumental fuck-up. Suddenly, the time he’d forgotten your birthday made him look like Boyfriend of the Year.

And then he reached into his pocket and he produced the little blue box he’d gotten just yesterday, and he opened it and looked at the ring inside. Not too flashy -- he didn’t have the money for any big diamonds, and you’d once joked that you didn’t want your engagement ring to weigh five tons. He smiled at the memory and traced his finger over the small diamond at the center of the ring.

God, what the fuck had he just done?

Shayne’s head thumped against the wall behind him, and he cried.

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x06: Higher Education

Read the previous chapter here!

Rewrite Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The Danzel curve brings out the worst in everyone.

Warnings: Swearing, Y/N and Brandon’s first fight, make out session, cheating on schoolwork, bad hairdos.

My work is not to be reposted or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Word count: 3,600

A/N: This was a fun one! And to all my Dylan fans. don’t worry, something’s… coming.

Feedback is appreciated!

-

“I grade on a curve. 10% A, 10% F. The remaining 80 get C’s. C for average, C for mediocrity. C for just getting by,” Mr. Danzel slowly trots around the room, handing out a bundle of C’s to his disgruntled students.

“God, who dresses him?” Donna giggles, leaning halfway on Steve’s desk, halfway on hers. You weren’t one to bash the way someone dressed, but Donna had a point. His suits were never… stylish, to say the least.

“There’ll be another quiz next Friday, and every Friday,”

“Love the tie, yeah,” She mumbles sarcastically, giving him the “ok” gesture when his back is to her. Mr. Danzel hands you your paper, a bright red “A” sketched across the top. You smile proudly to yourself. Brandon’s hand shoots up, brows furrowed.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Some of the people who made C’s only missed three or four questions,” Brandon airs his concerns, but all you can think about is how good he looked in that brown vest. Wow.

“Those who get A’s only missed one or two, that’s the difference between the pursuit of excellence and the morass of mediocrity,” he states back. Wasn’t that a little… harsh?

-

You walk out with Brandon and Steve at the end of the period, sighing at Brandon’s defensive mood. It had been a week since the kiss, and neither of you had brought it up. You’ve tried, sure, but everytime you had gotten interrupted. By Steve, or his mom, or Brenda, or Eric. So you decided to drop it. It would come up when it would come up. No big deal.

“History used to be my favorite subject,” He complains, voice whiney yet low.

“Yeah, the guy gives new meaning to the word hemorrhoid,” Steve agrees. Donna walks out behind him, denim clad.

“What did you get, Steve?” She asks, running her hands through her teased hair.

“What do you think?” He smirks.

“Oh, I hate you!” She pushes him playfully making Steve laugh.

“You got an A?” Brandon pipes in. Oh, here we go again.

“Yeah,” He brags, casually pushing his way past his friend and into the halls.

Steve got an A and Brandon didn’t? That’s… suspicious.

“Steve is such a brain when it comes to history! And a total sub-mental when it comes to everything else,” She teases. You giggle at each other before she leaves as well.

“Hey, you didn’t by any chance get a C, did you?” You raise an eyebrow at his steamed composure.

“Look, what are grades anyway? I mean, they’re just some weird arbitrary reference points that can’t measure what a person really knows!” He bellowed on an on, voice taught, trying to reason away his bad grade. You felt a little bad for him. If he was anyone else you’d be up the wall, but with him you were patient because… it was Brandon. You grab his hand gently as he looks into your eyes, trying to mellow down. “I’ve never gotten a C before in my life. Especially in history.”

“We could study for the next quiz together? I mean, if you want,” You offer, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I suppose you got an A?”

“Hey, what are grades anyway?” You rub his hand with your thumb before Brenda grabs you abruptly to walk with her and Kelly, her arm linked with yours.

“What I would do to go out with Dylan McKay!” Kelly sighs, holding her tote at her front.

“I don’t know, everyone says he’s trouble,” Brenda disagrees.

“He’s a good guy, he’s definitely got a little bit of a wild streak though,” you smirk, “Besides, he’s not as much trouble as he is majorly sexy.” All three of you giggle as Kelly brings you both over to Dylan’s locker.

“Hey Dylan,”

“Hey Kelly, Y/N,” He leans against his locker, tan jacket loose on his shoulders.

“We were just talking, what do you think guys like best on girls? Long or short hair?”

“Hmm, that’s a deep question,” he pretends to ponder, “Personally, I prefer blondes.” You bite down your smirk, knowing that he was just messing with her, toying. He also didn’t even answer the question he was asked, but whatever. He doesn’t necessarily have a preference, but you weren’t willing to explain how you knew that, nor get in the middle of this. Kelly lights up with a smug, flustered smile on her face.

“Really?”

“Really. Truly,” He shifts his attention onto Brenda. “So, you’re Brandon’s sister, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m Brandon’s sister,” she concurs. Their eye contact is intense. The energy to the air felt like it physically changed, something both you and Kelly picked up on immediately. Oh, this was so cute. They liked each other!

“Yeah, she’s Brandon’s sister,” she sighs. Kelly didn’t seem as fond of this as you did.

-

You walk around Brandon’s room, looking at his walls, his brown dresser covered with knick knacks and pictures, snooping around to keep yourself from getting bored while Brandon was in the bathroom. A swimsuit model calendar, some sport themed pictures you didn’t exactly understand, a few family portraits. When you hear the door open you hop back onto his bed, urgently, bouncing lightly.

“So, where were we?” He asks, taking his spot next to you. You could smell the sweet cologne he had put on while he was in there, and boy, did it smell good.

“The Cherokee nation,”

“Right, okay, uh.. who instigated the indian removal act and what year was it put in service?” Right. History. Think. Think about history. But it’s hard to think about history when he’s so close to you and smells so good. He looks gorgeous up close like this. But yeah, history. Okay.

“Andrew Jackson… 1828?”

“Wrong,” He states, eyebrows raised.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean wrong. The Georgia legislature confiscated the Cherokee land when they found the gold!”

“Jackson was president! He was the one who pushed the bill through Congress, so wouldn’t he be the one responsible for it?” You bicker back and forward. You’re both painfully close right now, due to his bed being on the smaller size. Your heart quickened everytime he accidentally touched you, everytime he looked at you, and you wanted nothing more than to just… pounce. But, you’re there to study, teenage hormones be damned. So, you restrained.

“Oh..” he sighs, “This is impossible, there’s too much to cover,” He looks down at his notes and breaks the eye contact.

“Look, just… memorize when the great migration took place and you’re good to go,”

“How?” His volume slightly raises.

“Just… do it!”

“Why do you say it like that, like it’s so easy?!” He argues back to you, but behind the tense walls of his voice is a playful tone.

“Because it is!” You bring your voice to match his, and from there it spawns a bickering war that I’m sure no one in the house wants to hear.

“No it’s not!”

“Yeah, it is!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes–”

You’re cut off abruptly with a kiss, his right hand behind your neck, bringing you closer. At first the kiss was moderately chaste, but as you kissed back, it grew hungrier, more passionate. He had tasted like the coffee he drank earlier and his hands were soft, slowly and gently moving you onto his lap. You heard Brenda rustling around in her room and footsteps outside the door, but you thought nothing of it. You felt his warm hands on your hips, heard the soft moans coming from both of you. You couldn’t get enough of him, and from the way he was touching you, you had a feeling he felt the same.

It all felt so good, so right, so exciting. One of your hands rested on his chest while the other resided on his neck. You weren’t sure how long this had been going on, but it stopped when you heard his bedroom door open. Instinctively, you basically flung yourself off of him, almost tumbling onto the hardwood floor. Thankfully, you’re able to steady yourself before that happens, as Mr. Walsh peeks his head in.

“Hi there,”

“Hi, Mr. Walsh,” you smile, trying to catch your breath as silently as you can. You hear Brandon panting lightly as well. Jim eyes up his son, noticing the lipstick on the corners of his mouth.

“Try to keep the door open, okay guys? Nice to see you, Y/N,”

You could feel your cheeks redden as he walked out. “Nice to see you too!” Both you and him breathed audible sighs of relief. “I should get going, Bran,” he gives you one last kiss, his hand on your jaw.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

-

“Where we goin’?” Steve calls out, catching up to Brandon as they walk out of second period.

“Down the tubes,” he grumbles, stopping through the halls.

“Another victims of the Danzel curve, huh?”

“You get another A?” Steve nods at him as they wiggle through the crowds.

“Steve, my dad’s gonna kill me!” He sighs, shaking his head.

“Tell him Danzel gets his kicks out of ruining people’s GPA,”

“Doesn’t work with him– he graduated Phi Beta Kappa Summa Cum something, he never let’s anyone forget it!” Brandon’s seething as he rants, throwing his arm in the air.

“Maybe I could help you out, we’ll form a study group. You, me, Y/N, it’ll be fun,” he wiggles his eyebrows, pats him on the back, and walks off as Brandon ponders it.

-

You’re sitting on the side of Steve’s pool, your feet sticking in the water with a notebook on your lap. Brandon’s sitting cross legged to your right and Steve’s lounging in a pool float to your left. The radio’s blaring an alternative song you couldn’t bother identifying.

“For some reason this doesn’t feel like studying,” Brandon concluded.

“It’s all the same to me, Brandon,” Steve’s head is back and his eyes are closed, blissfully.

“Hey, nice house,” You compliment.

“This is nothing, you should have seen where I lived before my parents got divorced!” Steve boasts.

“When was that?” You question.

“Which time?”

“They’ve divorced each other multiple times?”

“Amongst other things. There have been other marriages mixed in. Other kids, other houses, you know,” he brushes it off like it’s nothing.

“No… I… really don’t,”

“What? Your parents are still together?” He says it like it was something to be ashamed of, something uncommon, unheard of. You nod, wordlessly. “Look, it’s not your fault, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself,” He jests, causing you to splash him with pool water, all three of you laughing.

“Alright, anyway… what method did the government use to undermine the tribal structure?” Brandon quizzed, tapping his textbook.

“He’s not gonna ask that,” Steve shakes his head dismissively.

“Land allotment, the government detribalized everything by giving every indian a little piece of land,” You answer.

“Hey, Brandon, you wanna go to the laker/piston game next week?”

“You can get tickets?” He skeptically raises an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, my father gave me season tickets for my birthday!” What didn’t Steve have?

“All I got was a steak dinner and a couple of striped shirts,” Brandon laughs.

“I get great presents ever since my dad moved out,” He’s gloating, sure, but there’s a sad truth behind everything he says, that you pick up on. “You know, if I can keep my average where it is now, I’ll be a trojan. My father’s on the board at SC,”

“Hey, with your grades you shouldn’t have much trouble getting in,” You respond, kicking your feet lightly under the water.

“You’re a good person, Y/N/N, you know that? You too, Brandon. I don’t say that to many people… In fact, I don’t say that to anybody,” he laughs heartily by the end of his sentence. Ahh. Vulnerability covered up with humor, that’s our Steve.

“Well, you’re a good guy too, Steve,” Brandon smiles.

“Okay– name the five tribes that made up the confederacy whose primary aim was perpetual peace,” he

“The confederacy?” Brandon tilts his head.

“Yeah, I don’t think we covered that in class,”

“Memorize it, trust me. It’s the exact kind of question the hemorrhoid likes to ask,”

-

You began your american history test, writing your name in the upper left corner.

Name the five tribes that made up the confederacy whose primary aim was universal, perpetual peace?

You looked up from your test, and your eyes are met with Brandon’s, who’s looking just as uneasy as you are. What did Steve do?

-

“Amazing how we studied for every single question on the test!” Brandon scolds.

“Isn’t that the point?” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.

“Steve, did you steal the test?” You lectured, crossing your arms.

“I happen to be smart, guys,”

“I know, but you couldn’t possibly–”

“Look,” he began, “Relax! It’s supposed to feel good to ace a test!” He trots off, away from the lecture you both were giving him.

“Can you believe him?” You sigh, Brandon giving you a kiss to the forehead.

-

“Brenda, I’m sorry, but that’s not a hairdo, that’s a hair don’t,” Kelly criticizes as Brenda tries to fix her hair in the mirror.

“Stop it, Kelly, you’re making her hairaphobic!” Donna jokes.

“Oh, come on it’s not that bad,” You try to level out the conversation. Brenda sighs, defeatedly.

“No, she’s right, I hate it. The color, the cut, the everything!”

“So change it,” Kelly urges, “it’s not like there’s a law that says you have to keep something you don’t like.”

“Oh, Brenda, my mom goes to this dope guy. He barely speaks english, has a ponytail, and he does Madonna,” You offer.

“Get real, Y/N, you’ll never get her in there! Go to Troy Russo on Rodeo, he’ll do anybody!” Kelly adds. You play with your hair in the mirror. Hmm. Should you go bleach blonde?

“How much does he cost?”

“Uh, color and cut– $300?”

“I can’t afford that,” She dismisses. Donna’s eyes go wide as she approaches the mirror, shock written all over her face.

“Oh, how embarrassing! I’m wearing both contacts on the same eye!”

“And you thought you had problems,” Kelly stifles her laugh, and you and Brenda do the same. Bless Donna Martin.

-

“Those of you who find the Danzel curve unfair may be encouraged by the resurrection of Brandon Walsh. Not only did he get an A, he’s the only one of you philistines who didn’t miss a single question. Kudos are in order,” Mr. Danzel passes out his weekly test once again, stopping at Brandon’s desk as the class gives him a round of applause. After, you stop him by the soda machine in one of the main halls.

“Congrats, egghead!” You smile.

“Hey, I aced one test, it’s no big deal,”

“It is a big deal, you totally messed up the curve,”

“Why, what’d you get?” He looks at you, a glint of concern in his eye.

“A C,” you sigh, “But hey, what are grades, right? Goodbye Stanford, hello San Quentin,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” he takes your hand delicately.

“Don’t be, Bran, you earned it,” you give him a quick kiss and a smile before going off into your next class.

-

Another Friday, another test.

And some more questions he never went over.

You glance at Brandon after the teacher checks on him, and you spit him pulling out a note card from his backpack and sliding it under his paper. That bastard.

-

“Come on, Y/N, will you let me explain?!”

“Explain what?! How you went along with Steve’s stupid plan? How you screwed everyone else over? How you were totally out of line and dishonest?!” You bark, eyes narrowed as he chases you down the schoolyard and into the journalism room.

“Y/N/N, come on! It’s not like I do it all the time!” He pleads.

“Right,” you bite back sourly, rolling your eyes.

“I’m not letting Danzel ruin my GPA!”

“But you sure will screw over everyone else’s and let him give you a standing ovation when you don’t deserve it!” You fumed, fists clenching ever so slightly, “Look, I just don’t want to talk to you, alright?” Your volume lowers as you stomp over to your spot. You let out a laugh, sarcastically. “You know, if you were anyone else I would’ve turned you in already.”

-

“Oh, there she is!” You walk up to Brenda with Kelly and Donna at either side of you, bright and early in the morning.

“Brenda, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Kelly calls out, “cute hat.”

“I was in a hat mood,” Brenda defends.

“Show us your hair, silly,” Kelly smiles, yanking the yellow woven hat off of her head. You gasp, sharply. Brenda’s hair was poofy, red, with white stripes down the middle. One more color and she could qualify to be an American flag.

“Brenda…” you trail off, “it’s…”

“Great!” Kelly continues.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too–”

“No! I… love it!” Donna half smiles.

As you three begin to walk off, you mutter “Kelly, what did you do??”

-

It’s Saturday morning, and you’re at the Beverly Hills public library, studying for your history midterm. You were determined to get an A whether Brandon got one or not.

And speak of the devil, he comes over and slides into the seat next to yours, no warning, books in hand. “What are you doing?” You ask, eyes buried in the books.

“You’ve never cheated on anything, huh?”

“I’m trying to study,” you pause. Brandon rests his head in his hand, and he looks so damn pretty but you’re so damn mad and it him and– “No, no I haven’t.”

“But you’ve wanted to,”

“Of course I have, Brandon,” Your eyes are still focused in on your paper, refusing to look over to your gorgeous friend. “But I didn’t. You did!”

“And you’re never gonna let me forget it, are you?” You roll your eyes at that, and set down your pencil. “You know, sometimes you act like you have a personal stake in everything I do, like we’re a couple or something!” You’re fully turned to him now, and he is to you. You scoff as he continues. “This isn’t a black and white issue, Y/N/N! It was a gray area!”

“I know, Brandon! Just… leave it, okay?”

“Fine,” He shuffles to get his things, and walks over to the other area of the library. You knew you and Brandon would fight eventually, it’s was friends do. And you had known each other for months now, so you guess it was a given but.. it was making you both feel a lot more miserable than you expected.

-

You spot Brandon in the halls and run up to him. He’s in a mustard colored tshirt and of course, denim jeans. He has no right looking that good and yet… he does. “Hey, B,” you say.

“Hi,” you both pause in the hall for a moment.

“Y/N,” “Brandon,” You both simultaneously start to speak.

“Sorry if I haven’t been in the best mood, I was up till late last night studying,” you begin.

“I was too,”

“What, making cheat sheets?” You were only half joking.

“It… crossed my mind. But if I cheated, I might end up screwing over this girl I like, who I care about and respect… way more than she could ever know,” you smile at your shoes, “even if she can be a little bit of a pain sometimes.”

“I know a guy who’s one of those,” you nod as he smiles back at you.

“Well, maybe we should introduce them, they’d probably get along just great,” his voice is soft today, gentle, playful.

“Oh, actually… I think she’d hate him,” you could practically hear the grin in your voice.

“That’s a real shame,” He says, him pulling you up, and you pulling him down, to have a soft, passionate kiss.

-

“So, you, Minnesota, what’s going on?”

You sit down on the couch of the hotel room, curling up.

“Not much, we’re friends, why?”

“Everyone saw you guys going at it in the hallway,” he teases, handing you 2 scoops of cookies and cream ice cream in a clear crystal bowl.

You laugh lightly, “We weren’t ‘going at it’ in the hallway, it was one kiss.” You take a bite, “We went at it in his bedroom. Very different,” you joke. Dylan chuckles as he loads on the sundae toppings. “How are things with Brenda?” You wiggle your eyebrows, smirking.

“She seems cool, that’s about it.”

“She is cool,” you nod, adding more whipped cream to your bowl. You eat in silence for a moment before Dylan speaks.

“So, does Brandon know about–”

“No.”

“Does Brenda know about–”

“No.” He mimics, “And I don’t think we should tell them.” You stare down at your bowl, and sigh. You set it down, and lift up the two VHS tapes on the coffee table.

“So, Back to the Future 3 or GoodFellas?”

-

-

-

Tag list: @be-patient-be-good @blueoz @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @lilo-1988

[kiruuuuu]

Glaz/Echo oneshot in which Echo refuses to apologise for something, uh, unsavoury. (Rating T, chaotic nonsense, ~1.4k words) - written for @magehir​!! 💞💞

.

“You pissed into my closet.”

Echo immediately loses track of the complicated equation he was working out in his head and feels the sudden urge to bang his head against the tabletop. Looking up, he’s presented with an inexplicably disgruntled Glaz looming over him and glaring. All that’s missing are his hands on his hips to complete the nagging housewife aesthetic. “Are you nuts? I did no such thing.”

“You’re very welcome to come home and smell it yourself. Is that why you were gone so early this morning? Because you didn’t want to be forced to clean everything?”

“No. I was gone early because that’s the time we go to work, Timur, though I suppose I can’t expect you to know this seeing as you’re never on time.”

“What?” Indignation warps Glaz’ features into an even more alluring grimace. There’s no way Echo would ever admit it, but Glaz looks stunning when he’s angry. “I’m always punctual!”

“I highly doubt that, considering you always get up more than an hour later.”

“That’s because you take forever with your stupid hair. You get up with messy hair, comb it, and then very carefully mess it up again.”

“Not true. I don’t take that long. And besides, it’s not stupid.” He chances a quick glance around to look for the nearest reflective surface just in case there really is something wrong with his hair. When he comes up empty and turns back to their argument, Glaz seems even more unimpressed. “You were late today. So there’s that.”

“Yes. I was late because I had to throw all my clothes in the wash because they stank. Because you, as I said, pissed into my fucking closet!”

“Don’t pin this on me, are you sure you didn’t do it yourself?”

“Of course not! Why would I do that?”

“Well why would I do that? Just the fact that you’ve been yelling at me for five minutes is reason enough not to.”

“Maybe it’s payback for the time I threw up all over your favourite trousers. You do have a vindictive streak, you know.”

“But I already forgave you for that. That’s long settled.”

“Yeah, because you made me buy you a new pair.”

“Which you chose based on which ones made my ass look best.”

“Can you blame me? Have you looked in a mirror while wearing them? Wait, I have a photo somewhere…”

And while Glaz is tapping away at his phone, Echo heaves a sigh and turns to Mute next to him, intending to complain some more when he realises that everyone in the workshop is staring at them, except for the young Brit who nonchalantly keeps tinkering with one of Smoke’s gas grenades. Zofia, in the process of pouring herself a glass of water, apparently abandoned her previous activity halfway through without setting the bottle down, and has created a small flood on her side of the room. No one around her seems to have noticed.

“Haven’t argued in public before, mate”, Mute murmurs distractedly as if he could read minds.

That actually explains a lot. Echo considers addressing the room but figures a statement like this is normal or maybe a reassuring at least neither of us has threatened to break up yet wouldn’t improve the situation. Not with how appalled Mira already seems to be.

When Glaz shows him the evidence, accidentally navigating back to the gallery and revealing about a hundred secretly snapped photos of Echo, he can’t even muster up the energy to be angry.

.

“I don’t ever want to argue in front of other people again”, Echo says without interrupting his head massage. Glaz is curled up on top of him, petted into a content, catatonic state, and so it takes him several seconds to reply.

When he does, he stretches first, pressing closer to him and rubbing his cheek against Echo’s chest. It’s so freaking adorable he considers abandoning the topic in favour of just snogging until they can’t breathe but freezes when Glaz sleepily mutters: “Shouldn’t have pissed in my closet then.”

His irritation is back full force. “I didn’t fucking -”

“How do you know?”

“- what?”

“Really, how do you know? We both can’t remember much after Dom got the gin out. How can you be so sure it wasn’t you?”

“You know what, maybe it was Dom. He did stagger home later, but that doesn’t disqualify him.”

“Don’t pin this on other people now.”

“He’s a perfectly viable option! I admit that it’s unlikely you yourself did it, but that doesn’t -”

“Besides, you’re Asian. You already don’t deal well with alcohol.”

Echo’s eyes begin hurting from rolling so hard. “Seriously? We’re doing stereotypes now? Then explain to me how I managed to drink more than you did. You’re Russian after all, you should have vodka running through your veins.”

“But just because I’m Russian -” Glaz stops mid-sentences, re-evaluates and seems to belatedly understand. He turns in Echo’s embrace so they’re eye to eye. “I take it back. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Echo purses his lips in anticipation of a kiss, maybe some more, a sweet locking of lips turning sloppy, or even just Glaz pushing a hand under Echo’s shirt to run his finger over warm skin, but instead Glaz just looks at him expectantly. “Hm? What is it?”

“Don’t you also have something to apologise for?”

“What do you …”

“My closet.”

Due to the ensuing fight, they miss most of the film they were watching and restart it, only to get caught up in a discussion about whether they’ll order or make food, with both of them being too lazy to make anything but too indecisive to agree on any takeaway. After realising they still have leftovers, they gorge themselves on an adequate amount of stir-fry rice and end up much the same as most evenings: Echo gaming at his PC and Glaz stretched out on the couch, sketching and letting the TV entertain him in the background.

“Why do you always argue with me?”, Echo wants to know over his shoulder during a particularly long matchmaking queue. Frowning, he corrects himself: “Why am I the only one you argue with? You rarely do with your team or your friends.”

Glaz doesn’t even look up. “Because with you, I don’t feel like I need a filter.” And when Echo doesn’t respond, he adds an amused: “I know you’re blushing.”

.

“Honestly, it’s a good thing you can keep up with Glaz in drinking or else the Russians would’ve long lost what little respect for you they still have”, Bandit announces cheerfully and slaps down a Draw 4 card.

As usual, it’s only the two of them left in the game, due to Echo’s superior skill in strategy and probably Bandit’s cheating, the other guests having congregated in the kitchen and leaving the two of them to battle it out. “What do you mean?”, Echo wants to know and increases his hand size to whopping 10 cards with a sigh.

“You’re terrified of mistreating him in front of them, so they think you’re proper whipped. Which, if you ask me, isn’t even far from the truth.”

How very dare he. Just because Echo convinced his guild to adapt their raid schedule to Glaz’ liking doesn’t imply - “Why do we even still invite you over?”

“No idea, especially after I was so drunk last time that I ended up pissing in Glaz’ closet.”

Echo’s eyes snap up in disbelief. He opens his mouth, ready to tell this little sack of shit exactly what he can do to himself, but it’s at that moment that Glaz enters the room again. Perfect timing. He waves him over with a: “Timur! Come here. And you, Dom, repeat what you just said.”

Bandit’s genuine amusement shifts into mild concern. “Please don’t. I just told you I wouldn’t take the blame for you, didn’t you listen? No amount of money can make this right – if you urinated all over Glaz’ clothes, you should just admit to it and apologise.”

And while Glaz starts yelling at Echo about bribing others to be his scapegoats, while Echo is utterly dumbfounded and merely gapes at the audacity, Bandit puts down another Draw 4 and winks at him.

[dawnjeman]

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Newlyweds Home Design

  Hello, everyone! It’s so great to start this new week with you here. Thank you so much for the visit!

I won’t be long today because I really want you to focus on this newlywed couple and their beautiful home. I truly can’t tell you how much I admire Ali and Brett. It’s so impressive all of the work they have put into their first home and I can’t help but admire and wish them many, many Blessings in this life. Please, get to know them below and make sure to follow them on Instagram. We should always surround ourselves with good people in our lives and that goes for social media as well.

  Hello new friends! My name is Ali, my husbands name is Brett and we are @BARCbyBrettandAli. We were so honored to be asked by Luciane, to share our home with you all.

A little about ‘us’ … we got engaged in July of 2016. Our plan initially was for Brett to sell his house and move into my condo (not traditional, I know, but financially made sense). Not long after our engagement, our family realtor had found us the perfect home. We were casually looking because the neighborhood we wanted to move into was extremely sought after. When we saw this listing, we had to jump on it. The craziest part of it all, Brett was out of town for work, so my mom and I went to look. Brett never actually saw the home, besides a FaceTime tour, until after we had purchased it…he was sold when I took him to the basement where there was a theatre, so a pretty easy sell for any guy! That was the first demonstration of trust in our relationship!

Funny thing about the location of our home is we are 4 houses from my cousin and about 10 from my sister…so we plopped ourselves on the same street right in the middle of family! We officially called this place home in September 2016 and a year later we were married, September 2017!

Needless to say these first two years have been busy ones! Our love for all things home was one of our biggest shared passions. Which is where our HomeBunch story begins….

  Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Newlyweds Home Design

Let’s start with the exterior and I’m just going to lay this out there, it’s not my favorite…and the worst part is, we have regulations in our neighborhood, so we can’t change it! (Ugh!). Here’s the silver lining though, for as much as we don’t love our exterior it does provide a bit of an element of surprise as you enter.

Planters: Custom-built.

Outdoor Pillows: World Market.

Meet the Homeowners!

Aren’t they a gorgeous couple? They should have a show on HGTV just about DIY projects!!!

Home-Sweet-Home

Now for the good stuff, come on in! So you will notice a trend through our home, a bit different than many of the gorgeous homes that have been featured…we do a lot of the updates ourselves and do our own customizations to make our home feel unique. Brett is an incredibly talented woodworker and craftsman! His ability to take my, often ridiculous requests, and bring them to life makes for a very fun dynamic in our household.

Wreath: DIY – Florals from Hobby Lobby.

Front Door Paint Color

Door Color: Benjamin Moore Cheating Heart.

RUG: Ruggable – Moroccan Collection: Kavi Rose Gold.

Curtains: Ikea.

Foyer Decor

Lantern: Magnolia Hearth and Hand House Lantern.

Similar Fiddle Leaf Tree: Here.

Planter: World Market.

Home Style

We have made some large updates in our home, as well as some smaller cosmetic ones, that have completely transformed the feel. Our home is a Five-Level Split and for those that haven’t seen that style of a home in person, the main perks for us were the high ceilings in every room and the very open layout. It also gives us very usable space, rather than a traditional setup.

Wall Color

Wall Color: Sherwin Williams Light French Gray.

Dining Room

This room has seen several updates in the short two years we’ve lived here. We did a DIY update to the existing chair rail that was here when we moved in. We wanted a statement rug to ground the room and we couldn’t love our non-slip, washable…yes I said WASHABLE rug more in this room!

Wall Color: Sherwin Williams Light French Gray.

Rug: Ruggable Vintage Daisy Bordered Blue.

Mudcloth Pumpkins: you can find my DIY on our IG page – click on “DIY“.

Bench: Ikea.

Chandelier: Crate and Barrel.

Table Top

Wall Hanging: World Market Half Moon Wall Hanging.

Candlesticks: World Market

Clear/Gold Vase: World Market

China: Macy’s

Table Runner: West Elm

DIY Dining Table

Our dining table was actually the first piece of furniture Brett and I built together…on the garage floor at my condo. It was certainly worth it, but needless to say our knees were killing us by the end of it! (We’ve updated the workshop since then.)

Similar Dining Table: Here, Here & Here.

Dining Chairs: World Market – WM- Paige Dining Chair – Natural Linen.

Buffet Table: found at a thrift store, refinished with Annie Sloan Chalk Paint – similar here.

Floating shelves: Brackets – Farmhouse Brackets – similar: here (brackets + shelves).

Kitchen

Our kitchen is one of my favorite spaces in our home. We have put a lot of blood, sweat, well no tears… but definitely blood and sweat in here!

Countertop

Countertops: Marble-looking Quartz Counters.

Kitchen Island

Brett custom built the kitchen island. Our previous island didn’t allow for counter stools, so after a short discussion one evening, Brett created this beautiful piece! We decided to paint it an accent color to really make a statement and chose a rug that pulled the blue undertones out.

Washable Kitchen Runner: Ruggable.

Kitchen Cabinets

The wall cabinets were in good condition when we purchased the home and with it being such a large space, we opted to paint rather than replace them! We are still very happy with this decision and added details to the existing cabinets to customize them to our taste!

Backsplash & Faucet

Backsplash: Floor and Decor – Ice white square subway tile – similar here.

Faucet: Delta Trinsic in Matte Black.

Pendant Light: Wayfair.

Kitchen Hardware

Kitchen Hardware: AmazonHome – no longer sell these – similar: Pulls & Knobs.

Kitchen Cabinet Paint Color

Kitchen Cabinets: Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Kitchen Island Paint Color

Kitchen Island Paint Color: Benjamin Moore 1617 Cheating Heart.

Counterstools

Counterstools are from Target.

Breakfast Room

Wall are painted in Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Rug: Ruggable – similar here.

Dining Chairs

Dining Chairs: World Market.

Table Greenery: Target.

Lighting: IKEA Bamboo Pendant Lamp – similar here & here.

Curtains & Rod: Ikea.

Fireplace & Dining Table

A 3-sided fireplace brings warmth to the breakfast room and family room.

Similar Stacked Stone: Here.

Similar Counterstools: Here.

Chevron Mirror: World Market.

Breakfast Room Dining Table: Overstock.

Message

Letterboard: similar here.

Family Room

This space has had some updates recently! This room is a bit of a hybrid between a family room and a traditional living room. Our goal with changing the furniture and layout in this room was to create more livable space. We chose a mid century modern sofa that was not only the design we wanted, but also extremely comfortable!

Sofa: Macy’s Jolene Sectional.

Accent Chair: Target.

Floor Lamp: Target.

Knit Blanket: West Elm.

White Mudcloth Pillows: RH – similar here.

Wall color: SW Light French Gray.

Hardwood Flooring

Recently, we updated our flooring with a consistent floor throughout the entire first level. We chose a high-end laminate because of the durability…we will be having kids in the future and puppies (lots of them, if it were up to me…though my husband would likely disagree). It’s a beautiful laminate and can hold standing water for up to 30+ hours, so perfect for kitchens!

Flooring: Floor and Decor – AquaGuard Gogh Water-Resistant Laminate – AquaGuard Laminate.

Rug: Ruggable Linear Aztec Black – similar here.

Poufs: At Home.

Coffee Table

Per the suggestion of my sister, she recommended we go with a padded ottoman, rather than building our own coffee table. She has two little ones and they love running around our house so avoiding sharp corners was a main concern. We decided to do a narrow ottoman with two poufs for additional seating.

Ottoman Coffee Table: Target.

Home Office

Upstairs we have bedrooms and then this loft space.

Chair: World Market.

Decor

Since I work from home, this functions as my office. It’s the only room in this house that’s just “my” space, so I wanted to add a touch of girly, that I wouldn’t necessarily want in the main areas of our home. I chose white furniture, added accents of rose gold and gold, and finished with a fun rug that ties it all together!

Rug: Ruggable – Kilim Batik Pink – similar here.

“Think Differently” Sign: HomeGoods

Similar Work Hard + Be Nice to People” Sign: here.

Desk: No longer Available – similar here & here.

Master Bedroom

The goal for our master bedroom was to have a place that felt calm and serene. That had things that were special to Brett and I in the furniture and the decor. I designed the prints above our bed with lyrics from our first dance song, and had them custom made. Our furniture in this room is some of my favorites.

Bed: JCPenney – no longer available – similar here.

Lights: Ikea

Bedding

Pillows: Target

Similar Bedding: Here & Here (both are highly recommended).

Walls

We decided to flip the typical dark accent wall, with one light wall as the focal point instead.

Dresser

Typically the way things go in our household is I sketch up a design of what I’d like and Brett makes it come to life, even better than I planned. We built the nightstands together first and Brett built our beautiful 9 drawer dresser while I was away for work!

Master Bathroom

The colors in the bedroom flow into the bathroom to give a very spa-like feel. The tile we chose ties the two rooms together perfectly.

Bathroom Vanity

Vanity is painted in Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore.

Round Mirrors

Mirrors: AtHome – similar here.

Chunky Shelves

The chunky floating shelves were built by Brett.

Wall Color: SW Alabaster.

Floor Tile

Tile: Floor and Decor Florentina Gray Tile – similar here.

Basement

As I indicated in the intro, our house is a 5-level split, so this room is the first floor down prior to the true basement. We spend a majority of our downtime in here. We wanted this room to be comfortable, first and foremost, but also have an element of design.

Couch: Macy’s.

Decor

Wicker Baskets: Homegoods

White baskets: Target

White vases and tan base: Target

Other white vases: West Elm

Eucalyptus Garland: Target

Frames: Ikea.

Paint Color

Sherwin Williams Light French Gray SW0055.

DIY

We decided to build a custom entertainment center that was functional, had storage, and also was a well designed focal point when you walk in the room.

Guest Bathroom

This was one of my most nerve racking experiments. This bathroom was just about the furthest thing from our style. 

  Since this isn’t a heavily used space currently, we didn’t want to invest a lot money into it! Our goal is to update the counter and faucet relatively soon and at some point put in permanent flooring, but for now we love what we accomplished on a budget!

Similar Hardware: Pulls

Flooring

I decided one evening to attempt to stencil the floors. It was a bit of a project and with drying time, it took a good chunk of time, but in the end this was a great decision and the perfect short term fix!

Floors: Royal Stencil Quilt stencil Concrete Quilt – similar here & here.

Bath Mat: World Market.

Tray

Tray: Target – Opalhouse

Mirror

Mirror frame: DIY with 1x6in boards and corner brackets (easy update).

  Well friends, that’s a wrap! We had so much fun putting this together and couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunity to showcase all the work we’ve done in our home.

Thank you again, Luciane, for featuring us on your blog and big thanks to all that read along! Can’t wait to meet new friends and find new inspiration ourselves!

  Many thanks to Ali & Brett for sharing all of the details above. Make sure to follow @BARCbyBrettandAli on Instagram for more inspiration!

Photography: Columbus Pics.

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Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

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“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/awkwafina-snl-sketches-ranked-worst-to-first-kanye-confusion-and-kavanaugh-confirmation/

Awkwafina 'SNL' Sketches Ranked Worst to First: Kanye Confusion and Kavanaugh Confirmation

Awkwafina is edgy and hilarious in her own stuff, but she seemed mostly toned down throughout her debut appearance on “Saturday Night Live.”

The “Crazy Rich Asians” star came to life the most during a baby shower sketch later in the night, while her first appearance outside of the monologue offered very stiff line deliveries, telling us she got more comfortable as the night progressed.

Impressively, the show tackled the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation vote both in the cold open and during “Weekend Update,” so you know they were hustling to finish writing this show up to the last minute. Sure, it was a safe bet he’d get in, but still it was an impressively fast turnaround, giving them the first comedy response to the news.

They even addressed their own controversy, with Pete Davidson returning to the “Weekend Update” desk to talk about Kanye West’s off-script pro-Trump rant that drew rave reviews from the president (who hadn’t seen it) and looks of discomfort from the cast before they edged off the stage.

As usual, we’re ranking all the sketches from worst to first, including the Cold Open and the regular “Weekend Update” segments. We’ll skip the musical guests, because they’re not usually funny – unless Ashlee Simpson shows up. We wrap up with a look at the cast-member who had the strongest week.

Dance Battle

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Okay, this sketch was pretty stupid and we’re still trying to figure out how it was the first sketch of the night after the monologue. Two dance crews come out and compete, only one of them did so with game show themes. The problem was none of the dancing was particularly memorable for being good or bad. Even the addition of Travis Scott as a Mariah Carey backup dancer who apparently only dances with his arms didn’t inject anything into the bland bit. The theme songs were the only joke and it wasn’t funny enough.

MONOLOGUE – Akwkafina

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“I was gonna come out dressed like a water bottle, but apparently someone did that last week,” Awkwafina cracked at the top of her monologue, poking fun at her name. She cracked a few jokes about her grandma possibly watching the wrong network tonight and her dad sounding like Trump, and admitted she was more a “Rebuilding My Credit Asian” than a “Crazy Rich Asian.” She then took a moment to credit Lucy Liu’s hosting of “SNL” back in 2000 as a pivotal moment in her young life, redefining what might be possible for an Asian-American woman. Awkwafina’s incredibly dry delivery kept her jokes from hitting quite hard enough; she needed more time to draw you into her approach to see funny the way she does, and she just didn’t have it.

Presidential Alert

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This obvious sketch had a cute twist ending that made it fun. The bulk of it was about the kind of nonsense Trump could send through the Presidential Alert system, namely the same kind of things he tweets about only even more inane and pointless. But the twist was that the whole thing was a Cricket Wireless commercial, because their service is so bad you won’t even get the alerts. Suddenly, you might find a reason to want awful service. The whole bit was executed well enough, with good reactions from the cast, but there wasn’t anything fresh at all until that closing moment, which kept it from being a totally lazy sketch.

Cleopatra

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What if Cleopatra had modern-day stylists? It turned out as weird as it sounds, with Cecily Strong taking on the Cleopatra role while Awkwafina led a team featuring Kenan Thompson’s Xerxes and Kate McKinnon’s Becky. Yes, it was weird anachronistic moments like that that actually made this work at all. When Xerxes showed her a vase with her picture painted on it, she demanded he delete it, which he did by smashing it to the ground. This was a History Channel special, which added another layer of funny because you can imagine that it’s the network’s fault this is so historically ridiculous. By the end, Cleopatra was bickering with Alex Moffat’s Caesar and it was all a little too twee. But mostly, the sketch had no real punch at the end, which would have been nice.

New York Film Festival

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Marion Cotillard (Cecily Strong), Allison Janney (Heidi Gardner) and Sandra Oh (Awkwafina) are joined by Debette Goldry, one of Kate McKinnon’s most ridiculous characters. She wasn’t as outrageous as in previous appearances, but she’s always a fun counterpoint to add levity to discussions about #MeToo and issues of sexual harassment in Hollywood. But without any ridiculously over-the-top stories or antics, the whole sketch fell a little flat.

COLD OPEN – Kavanaugh Confirmation

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“SNL” kicked off its night with a wild “locker room”-style post-game interview for the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation, so either they threw this together in a hurry or they anticipated the result. Honestly, it’s probably the latter as it was pretty evident how things were going to go down. The whole thing was fun, though they could have leaned a little more into how awkward and angry Heidi Gardner must have been as the female reporter interviewing the exuberant GOP. Beck Bennett was a lot of fun as Mitch McConnell, complete with prosthetic neck he tried to suck his chin all the way through, but McKinnon still hasn’t quite found her take on Lindsey Graham, even with some of the best lines. “This was for the fans,” McKinnon said of the protesters. “And I know they agree with us because they were all shouting #MeToo!”

So You’re Willing to Date a Magician

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This sketch mostly worked, despite the fact Pete Davidson couldn’t get through his lines and both Awkwafina and Leslie Jones broke several times. All four magicians were funny and uniquely different, though Alex Moffat and Heidi Gardner as a brother-sister team who go everywhere together was particularly humorous. We’re not sure what Davidson was supposed to be doing at the end when he crawled over to Awkwafina and popped up, but it was just weird. Was he supposed to do another self-harm gag? As it stood, the ending deflated what would have been one of the night’s strongest character-driven sketches.

The Pumpkin Patch

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It’s a good thing this aired late in the night, because it was totally about boning pumpkins. Mikey Day confronted three of his employees at a pumpkin patch after they got caught doing the deed, egged on by Awkwafina, and had to fire them all. It was uncomfortable and funny, but then took a turn to creepy when he left them with a parting gift of a trunk full of pumpkins. Like … ew! But despite our best efforts to believe we were better than this, we did laugh.

Baby Shower

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Cecily Strong invited her dog walker Deedee (Awkwafina) to Heidi Gardner’s baby shower because she’s so cool. And she totally had Cecily’s back as the only single one in this group of friends. We loved that Cecily was both put out and so arrogant and cocky, calling herself the cute one in the group. Then Awkwafina wanted to get rid of all the baby stuff to make her feel better … at a baby shower. We’re not sure what her strategy was smacking the balloons around — one hand was holding a slice of pizza — but it was rather pointlessly funny.

Ted Cruz Hype

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It was the awkwardness that made this sketch work, with Kenan Thompson and Awkwafina working as an enthusiastic hype team for Ted Cruz (Beck Bennett). Cruz immediately set off feedback in the mic multiple times before breaking it. He even flopped dribbling a basketball and shooting off confetti. The message was clear, there is no way to make him look fun and hip. He even broke his own nose trying to dab. It was short and sweet and kept the laughs coming from top to bottom.

Weekend Update

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“50 is the lowest number of votes for a Justice in history, but keep in mind it’s also the most yeses Kavanaugh has ever heard,” Colin Jost said, going for the low-hanging fruit. Again, though, props to “SNL” for being this timely with their content. He then called out Kavanaugh for lying under oath during the interview, saying, “That’s like cheating on your wife during the wedding.” The jokes were sharp and funny, with a brilliant “Law & Order” parody of the proceedings. Then, Michael Che asked if the five GOP women who voted for Kavanaugh were hostages. This is when “SNL” can shine, when it’s bold and biting in its satire and jokes.

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Everybody’s favorite bros — at least this version of them — dropped by “Saturday Night Liberals” to talk about their plans for the upcoming midterms. As always, Alex Moffat and Mikey Day absolutely slay in these characters, with Moffat’s Eric a particular delight responding to and reacting to everything day’s Don Jr. says. When Don suggested they could tell jokes, Eric chimed in with, “What did the gay, black, Jew–“

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Michael Che had a great callback to the jokes about Trump’s “scary times” for young men in America quote as they moved on to other topics. They poked fun at Starbucks baristas complaining about hypodermic needles (they use them as stirrers at 7-Eleven), gay penguins stealing a baby penguin, and a kid barber. Spoiler alert: they suck.

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Finally, “SNL” addressed the elephant in the room, with Pete Davidson reflecting back on Kanye West’s impromptu pro-Trump speech. First up, he said they’d considered having Michael Che do it, “because Che’s black, but I’m crazy and we both know which side of Kanye is at the wheel right now.” He called it one of the most awkward things, “and I’ve seen Chevy Chase talk to an intern.” It was a pretty blistering attack on Kanye’s behavior, with Davidson suggesting that he just take his medicine. “Being mentally ill doesn’t give you permission to be a jackass,” he explained. It was both funny and well reasoned. West deleted his Twitter and Instagram accounts before “SNL” on Saturday, as reported by TMZ, so any response he may have remains unknown … for now.

PLAYER OF THE WEEK

The guys had the strongest night, with Beck Bennett’s Mitch McConnell working really well, and both Mikey Day and Alex Moffat slaying as Don Jr. and Eric Trump on “Weekend Update.” Moffat was also hilarious as half of a brother-sister magician duo and douchey Caesar, while Day played it straight in one of the night’s most uncomfortably funny sketches, “The Pumpkin Patch” and Bennet was funny again as hapless Ted Cruz.

But we have to give the edge to Moffat for his clueless Eric Trump. This week, he was terrified by Day’s exploding fist, and the way he kept eying it after only added to the conviction of his performance in the role. Then, his interactions with the puppet were just perfect. This is one of the funniest impressions in the history of the show, and Moffat always nails it.

“Saturday Night Live” continues next week with host Seth Meyers and musical guest Paul Simon, Saturday at 11:35 p.m. et on NBC.

Got a story or a tip for us? Email TooFab editors at tips@toofab.com.

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Source: http://toofab.com/2018/10/07/awkwafina-snl-saturday-night-live-kanye-west-brett-kavanaugh-travis-scott/