#yes i'm using a different picture of the venue. just because i like it

[goldenpinof]

Terrible Influence Tour: UK + Europe leg

22.01.2025, Birmingham

Symphony Hall

Capacity: 2 032 (we have ~1 921)*

Start: 20:00

General promoter: AEG Presents

As of the morning 22.01.2025, tickets are still available on B:Music

Our original seating chart (1 907 seats) and then the seating chart from 14.01.2025 (2 020 seats):

*the original seating plan is here. according to this document (page 4) there are 2 032 seats without Choir, but we initially have a bit different seating with 1 907 seats, then with 2 020 seats.

Available tickets as of 22.01.2025 (2 020 seats):

*On 14.01.2025 they added 53 seats in Stalls, 24 seats in Upper Circle, and 36 seats in Grand Tier to the initial seating plan, making it 1 907 + 113 = 2 020 seats on the seating chart. Before that, from June 2024 to 14.01.2025, the show has been sold out and the chart hasn't been visible at all. Within these 113 added seats, only 20 were actually put on sale: 8 seats in Stall Row AA; 6 seats in Row C and 6 seats in Row B in Terrace. Were never on sale:

5 seats in Right Terrace, 5 seats in Left Terrace;

11 seats in Row B in the centre of Terrace;

12 seats in Row C in the centre of Terrace;

6 seats in Right Platform Box and 6 seats in Left Platform Box in Upper Circle;

6 seats in Right Ledge and 6 seats in Left Ledge in Upper Circle;

6 seats in Right Platform Box and 6 seats in Left Platform Box in Grand Tier;

12 seats in Right Ledge and 12 seats in Left Ledge in Grand Tier;

6 seats in Right Box Row B in Circle (judging by the 1st show).

Therefore, 2 020 - (5 + 5) - 11 - 12 - (6 + 6) - (6 + 6) - (6 + 6) - (12 + 12) - 6 = 1 921 seats.

Some prices:

Screenshots from 28.06.2024 (the 1st sale day) (1 907 seats):

The start of the show changed from 7:30 pm to 8 pm!

[reocidal]

photographer suna — marriage proposals!

for @akaakeis <3 sav i'm so sorry for terrifying u in dms. u probably don't need any tissues. ily, thanks for being my inspiration for like, the third time this week. :)

cws — gn!reader, crying. sobbing. crying. fluff, ew. not proofread, its 3am. wc — 748

ever since you and your boyfriend started dating, you've modeled in so many things for him and his beloved cameras.

not only photos he posts, though. there are pictures of you with smudged makeup, and pictures of you drooling onto his chest as you sleep, and blurry ones of you smiling and laughing and just being... you.

and you don't really notice any differences this time. well yeah, maybe he's a little bit more excited than usual, and it must be more important because he's doing it in a venue instead of his studio.

you're wearing fairly casual clothes, nothing too fancy, but you look good. not that you don't look good in anything else, rin is quick to assure you. he's exceedingly careful today, and also... stricter than usual?

"smile, y/n."

you flash your prettiest smile at the camera, but he shakes his head. "try again?"

you obey, but he sighs, almost exaggeratedly. "this isn't working, y/n. it's not genuine enough."

he doesn't give you time to react as he continues. "i have a solution, though."

he presses something on the camera — are his hands shaking? — before putting it down on a side table and turning to you. "y/n, i love you."

you giggle. "i love you too, rin, but is that all?"

you're joking, but he shakes his head. "nah, there's more. you are my best friend, the love of my life, and everything i could ever want in a person."

you're definitely smiling now; he doesn't seem to notice. "these past few years with you have been the best time of my life. y/n, i adore you. we've been together for four years of my life, and i want to spend the next four with you too. and the four after that, and the rest of my life, so will you marry me?"

and he's getting down on his knees and pulling a box from his pocket, and your vision turns blurry as you nod frantically. "yes!"

at some point, you get down to his level, and he slides the ring clumsily onto your finger before his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs shakily wiping away your tears. it's not like he's faring any better, though, because he's crying as hard as you are — if not harder. your hands find his face before he kisses you, and the two of you fall back so he's sitting on the ground, you between his legs.

"i love you," you gasp through your sobs, and he smiles stupidly at you through his own tears.

"i love you too, you don't even know—"

"i do, i do," you whisper before he kisses you again, and then he pulls back, a dumb laugh escaping his throat.

"god, we look so stupid right now— i mean, you don't, i do, oh my god, the camera—"

"what about it?" you ask. you've both stopped crying, and he leans back to let you dig through his pocket for a tissue that you use to gingerly dab at your face before you turn on him.

"it— stop that, i look fine, it recorded everything, oh my god, y/n, stop—" he tries — in vain — to dodge your accursed tissue, bright red hues spreading across his cheeks as you laugh at him.

"bet you didn't expect to cry," you tease, poking his warm but damp cheek. "you love me sooo much, you just had to!"

"yeah," he says, and it comes out softer than either of you expected. "i do."

"you better say the same thing at our wedding!"

our wedding. ours. his heart skips a beat.

"i will, damn."

the ring on your finger feels both foreign and familiar, you note as rintarou gets up to collect his things. it's gotten colder since the two of you arrived here, and you shiver. rin gives you his jacket to wear as the two of you head to the car; he zips it right up to the collar before using it as leverage to pull you in and kiss you again.

"better get to planning the wedding, hmm? can't wait to have you forever," he murmurs, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"you already have me, forever," you tell him, and once more, you reduce the blank-faced, 6'3" photographer into a stammering, blushing mess. he says nothing, but you feel him squeeze your hand as he looks away, trying to hide his flushed face.

"shut up before i kiss you again."

thank u for reading ! <3 likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. i almost cried writing this, too much fluff might throw up. also, i appear to have a medical condition where i can only write about suna and no one else. there'll probably be a part 3 for the wedding, btw.. no promises

[fandomchokehold]

Musical Songs I Think The Boys™ Would Do a Burlesque Number To

*obviously these are only ones I've listened to, I wasn't a theater kid and don't really know much about plays and musicals, please don't be weird or mean in the notes 😭 and YES as a huge ABBA fan I know all the songs in Mamma Mia are just ABBA songs*

also this is way longer than I intended so there's more under the cut

Solos

Astarion - "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

this one is pretty obvious and expected but like !!! yeah !!! that's just him !!! he'd do the full routine, coming up in the elevator, throwing the cloak off to reveal the slutty lil outfit he has on underneath, throwing his drink at the audience while Gale Brad is talking, lounging on the throne, and then leaving mysteriously in the elevator OH BABY !!!

Wyll - "Land of Lola" from Kinky Boots

he would absolutely slay this routine, the lyrics are practically about him - "with arms as hard as steel" "with the moves of Fred Astaire" "I'm black jesus, I'm black mary, but this mary's legs are hairy" ??? I need this man to absolutely let loose and I NEED to see him in those cunty thigh high boots 👏 RED 👏 IS 👏 HIS 👏 COLOR !!!!

Gale - "Toucha Toucha Touch Me" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

I honestly just think he'd be really good at playing the part of the "innocent shy reserved man who does a complete 180 after being exposed to pure unbridled sexuality"; we all know he's not actually like that it's fully an act because he knows he has the looks of a tired english professor but the soul of a whore I just- you don't know how badly I need to see him doing a slightly desperate unhinged strip tease on stage on a garrish four poster bed OKAY ?!?!

Halsin - "Toxic Love" from Ferngully

I need him in his pretend villain era, I think he'd be cartoony like if he's gonna work a stage he's gonna werk a stage m'kay; he is actually using this performance to raise awareness about the climate crisis and donate the money he makes towards more accessible clean energy and environmental conservation efforts and would love to provide more info and resources while still in his g-string to all interested parties in the lobby of the venue

Duets

Astarion & Gale - "Planet Schmanet Janet" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Dr. Frank N. Furter, Gale as Janet; we all know this is a trademark Astarion ruse to get to chase a scantily clad Gale around menacingly and torment him in front of an audience, I mean c'mon who wouldn't want to do that 👀

Astarion & Wyll - "Does Your Mother Know?" from Mamma Mia

Astarion as Tanya, Wyll as Pepper (I had to look that up apparently his name is Pepper); I feel like Astarion would identify with Tanya on a spiritual level, they're both wine aunt cougars who love luxury, and after seeing that Wyllstarion interaction where they flirtatiously talk about their age gap this song just really is about them huh

Astarion & Halsin - "I Can Make You a Man" + "I Can Make You a Man (Reprise)" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Dr. Frank N. Furter, Halsin as Rocky; tbh this is just so Astarion can show off the "bounty of nature's gifts" that have been bestowed upon him and Halsin just finds how this twink is climbing him and swinging on his outstretched arm like a jungle gym too amusing to not participate

Gale & Wyll - "Horny Angry Tango" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

either of them in either role; this is purely for the theatrics and to show off their actual ballroom dance skills, Gale is going to be the one getting dipped though

Gale & Halsin - "La Seine" from A Monster In Paris

Gale as Lucille, Halsin as Francoeur; I can't lie it's purely for the height difference that's totally canon and I didn't make up in my head, the contrast between Gale "Lil 5'8" Wizard" Dekarios and Halsin "The 6'5" Bear" Silverbough is just *chef kiss* 👌

Wyll & Halsin - "Lay All Your Love On Me" from Mamma Mia

either of them in either role; they're lowkey almost fucking on stage, Wyll chose it for the drama and Halsin went along for the overtly sexual choreography

Group Numbers

"Lady Marmalade" from Moulin Rouge

Astarion's favorite and Halsin's least favorite for the same reason: it's extremely flashy and dramatic

"Rose Tint My World" which transitions into "Don't Dream It" from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Astarion as Janet for "RTMW" but Frank for "DDI", Wyll as Columbia, Halsin as Rocky, Gale as Brad, with special guest Elminster as Dr. Scott during "Don't Dream It"

"Haus of Holbein" from SIX

tbh I don't have an explanation for this one I've really only listened to the corsets part and think it's kinda cunt, idk they'd all slay in corsets

"Big Spender" from Sweet Charity

ok just imagine any of them doing Fosse choreography

"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" from Mamma Mia

ok just imagine there's stripper poles-

"Cell Block Tango" from Chicago

with special guests Minsc and Volo; no one knows how they got here, Minsc is a bit too uncoordinated but he's got the spirit and Volo was recording everything from the audience for research purposes but saw they were short a character and thought to himself "what better way to learn than through participation?"

[putschki1969]

I read all that drama from that person on the blog, I'll just say as a joke "what did this guy smoke to say all that that didn't make sense to me, honestly" I'll ask you a question, do you think they'll invite Kajiura in the end? Do you think the girls will sing the songs from the next Madoka movie?Whatever happens, I will support you and always love you. It hurts to see how quiet you have been. I forgot to say hello to you. I'm sorry, I hope you are well, dear. Take care of yourself.

Hello there, anon! I'm fine, thank you. Still focusing on the good things. I refuse to give in to all the negativity around me. Everyone who dares to throw insults or accusations at the girls will instantly get blocked by me. There's zero tolerance for this sort of behaviour in my little corner of fandom. So far, this is how I've managed to stay sane.

Ah yes, the whole thing with this blog is pretty crazy. It's no wonder the author deleted everything again. Everyone, be sure to read my DETAILED ANALYSIS here. While some things were certainly rooted in fact, most of it was just speculation and gossip.

As for your questions (please be aware that I don't enjoy speculations so my answers won't be very elaborate):

[D]o you think they'll invite Kajiura in the end? It would be appropriate to invite her. She has been there for some of Kalafina's most important lives so I would want her to experience their reunion live as well. I don't know if it's possible though with the current hostilities between Space Craft and Yuki Kajiura. I am definitely not one of the people who think Yuki needs to have a key role in the production of the concert. The truth is, Yuki has rarely played a huge role in Kalafina's live productions, especially when their live shows became bigger. That's why it baffles me that so many fans seem to believe that this concert will be a total mockery/failure without Yuki's involvement. What I'm trying to say is that I personally don't need her as producer/director but I'd definitely want to see her in the audience or backstage.

Do you think the girls will sing the songs from the next Madoka movie? No idea. I know many fans are quite invested in this particular topic but I don't really care all that much. For the time-being I just want this reunion/tribute live to happen with as little drama as possible. Whether they decide to resume their activities as a group or they go back to their solo work, is entirely up to them. I would like it if they did a few Kalafina lives every once in a while, at a variety of venues, with different productions and arrangements. I certainly wouldn't mind if they started to release new music but I'm still not sure if it would be a good idea to go down that path without involving Yuki Kajiura. I'm afraid 90% of fans would not accept that. I am probably one of the few people who will be supporting Kalafina no matter what. I am pretty sure I would like new music from them even if it wasn't written by YK because my love for Kalafina as a group goes far beyond my appreciation for Yuki Kajiura's music. I just love the girls themselves, their vocals and their harmony. However, if they end up releasing new music written by someone else, it is unlikely to be used in the Madoka movie. I mean, YK is doing the soundtrack so having Kalafina sing a theme/insert song would be a little awkward if she wasn't in charge of the composition. It's possible of course but it would lead to a further deterioration of the situation. Maybe if they manage to clear up some of that tension, a collaboration is possible but right now, I don't see how it would work out. Also, there's a possibility that a song has already been recorded for the movie. Many fans are speculating that the studio picture from a few weeks ago featuring Kaori, rito, Yuriko and Keiko might have been a recording for a big project (based on the fact that everyone is super secretive about it). Guess we have no choice but to wait and see...

It hurts to see how quiet [they] have been. Yes! It's killing me. I really hope that in the upcoming FJS radio broadcast, Yuki will address the matter so people can finally calm down. By now, Yuki must know how much turmoil she has caused with her statement and her follow-up tweets are proof that she's eager to take the heat off. But there needs to be something more substantial and genuine than a couple of half-assed tweets. The way this radio broadcast has been announced out of the blue with only a day for fans to send in questions gives me hope that this is her way of damage control. Ideally, the girls will start posting again as soon as everything has calmed down again. For the concert to be a success, they need to be able to do some proper promo work. We need as many posts and videos as possible! For now, it's just the FC lotteries with the core fan base applying for tickets. Many of us don't need much convincing but there are certainly a lot of other fans who are currently not planning to attend the concert so they need to be won over somehow. Not that I would necessarily want those pseudo-fans to be there but unfortunately, someone needs to fill that 8k capacity venue...

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

culmination of the Pleiades

After nearly a full year of "stellar holy days" (I missed the acronychal rising) I am certain that this is the route I'm gunna take. I want to figure out the acronychal setting and helical setting, Morgan Daimler only gives four dates in her book. Very tentatively creating a narrative around the cycle of the seven sisters relating to my witch queen. I need more information and experience before I have anything concrete. I'd also like to learn more about Venus and start incorporating "Venusian holy days" into my ritual calendar. Venus's conjuncts the cluster very closely, .20 something degrees every 8 years. I think there's less close conjunctions every year too. Her journey from evening to morning star could, potentially, fit in nicely with the mythic narrative I have in mind. Interested in Orion, Sirius and Puppis (agro navis) too. Not too sure how or if they'll fit in yet.

SO frustrated with myself for missing the acronychal rise, I'll have an incomplete picture till next year haha. Completely agree with Daimler about this being a time of heightened otherworld activity. The Queen appearing less like a light emerging from the deep, as she felt during the helical rise in June. instead, she felt more like a Sovereign Queen, wise and mature, hung high in her rightful place. A light delighting in the inky indigo of the night. To quote Briar, loosely "at night the heavens drown"-this describes the feeling well. During the rite it felt like I had a hundred eyes on me, the wind picked up at rather interesting points during my rite. Very shrieky and musical sounding. Don't know if id describe it as a gate being opened as I don't believe there's a "veil".

Decided to celebrate Samonios on this night too; nothing too elaborate. Just prayers and offerings of homemade baked goods. Felt watched, perceived. Sometimes when I pray it's like speaking to air, this time it felt like there was a presence. Unsettling but I'll take it as a good sign. Though the gaulish calendar is a lunar one, holy days falling two new moons after the solstices/equinoxes (correct me if I'm wrong). Samonios would've fallen on nov 1st this year, if I'm not mistaken. I've celebrated it on the date corresponding with the Coligny Calendar too, had a similar but less intense experience.

"Yes, I do believe the Pleiades were celebrated as original markers for certain holy days- and world mythology does support this of course-but because of the drift in timing we can't just go back to that. The conjunction isn't in late March anymore it's in May; the heliacal rising isn't in May it's in June. That makes a significant difference when these aren't just static dates but also living traditions. The mythology and focuses that we do have for the oldest stories of the Pleiades don't work anymore when the timing has shifted so radically. We have to find the threads of old and hints of the significance this may have had for us in our own forms of historic paganism, and even back before into into the roots of the Neolithic and bronze ages, and then work those traces into a viable modern system." Morgan Daimler, Living Fairy.

[sleepanonymous]

Did you have fun at lorna shora? 💝

I'm gonna use your ask to post my concert recap, Anon. Hope you don't mind 🖤 But yes I had an absolute blast. 100/10, I would do it all again, even the waiting around in the heat part.

Long-winded recap below the cut for anyone who cares 🖤 you do get rewarded with a low-effort meme though.

TLDR is I had an amazing night, and I'm probably getting another tattoo because of it.

Some pre-concert notes: at the suggestion of a friend, I used Waymo to get to and from my hotel in Phoenix. That was an experience. It’s nice not having a driver so I can bask in my antisocial tendencies but those cars are confident af. I guess they can technically see better/more than a human, and they're 100% focused on the road, so they also drive better than 75% of all the Uber/Lyft drivers I’ve had. 

Day of the concert, I got to the venue at 11:30 am and nobody was there except a vagrant, a plumber, and a concerned lady with the plumber. Later confirmed with the people in line that I was the first to show up and that’s kinda crazy to me? The difference in line culture between Sleep Token and Lorna Shore is insane. At noon I was told by security we couldn’t line up on the property until 4 pm (doors at 5 pm). I’m not a local, so I took that as go tf away, so I went to Mcdonalds a block away and watched Saint Maud on my phone in the middle of a lunch rush. This is how everyone needs to experience this movie btw. Definitely adds to the unsettling factor of the film.

Around 2 pm I walked back to the venue, thinking I could loiter at the pizza place next door. Instead I found a line near the back of the venue and I was number 12 (I recounted when we lined up outside the venue at 4pm and realized I was wrong when I said I was 15th). It was a high of 106F/41C and we were south facing, but my spot was thankfully under a few mesquite tree canopies. When we moved up at 4 pm I was under some misters on a patio which was a small haven since I lost my shade. I didn’t get sunburned, and barely got a tan.

I met some Sleep Token fans while in line and dying of heat stroke. We talked a bit about what it was like being on the barricade at their rituals. A couple of them had tried for tickets to the Phoenix ritual but weren’t able to get their hands on any. I was too afraid to tell them about Vessel looking at me during TNDNBTG (even though I have the video evidence from that one uploader, I’m still gaslighting myself about it lmao).

At 5 pm when doors opened, the venue separated the line into bags/no bags, so I essentially was the 3rd person inside (1st in the bag line). Snagged a spot on the barricade at center stage, slightly to stage left. Guy to my right drove over from Texas (he showed me a picture on his phone that he took of Will outside the venue like 2 hours before, literally just standing and chatting with a dude in a Spiderman outfit while the rest of us were melting in line. literal strangest thing I've ever seen in my life). The girl to my left ran some minor Instagram page, I had meant to ask for her handle but never got a chance. The dude behind me looked like a taller Jesse Pinkman sans beanie hat/baggy hoodie and he was really polite and also did his best to talk like Jesse after the comparison was made. There was also a dude and his girlfriend (he and Jesse Pinkman were pretty amazing at keeping me from getting squished 100% of the time from the pit) and the Sleep Token girlies who bought like seven shirts and somehow made it to the barricade. We all became temp besties. We also made friends with the security and helped hand out water cups during intermissions, had mosh pit practice and dance-offs, and got a crash course in the Sanguisugabogg murderball game.

Sanguisugabogg is 100% an amazing live band. I couldn’t get into them before hand, but after seeing them live I am now a casual fan. I wouldn’t mind seeing them live again. I survived the murderball game with little effort thanks to the barricade/people around me. But I did get accidentally acquainted with multiple security guy’s crotches (ducking for them to pick up crowd surfers). This actually became a theme for a bit until I figured out a wat to contort myself between the security when they jumped on the barricade. I guess two dudes got into a fight over the ball, and the band told them to take it to the sidewalk? Valid.

Kublai Khan were super fun on stage. Vocalist wore an Arizona belt buckle and he showed it off and the crowd were extra happy about it lol. Caught some neat footage at the end of Kublai’s set. I only rewatched about one minute of it to check how the audio/video settings were for later on in the night. I do know I caught footage of him looking like a disappointed dad though so that's amazing.

White Chapel was fucking LOUD yo. Sound Guys cranked the volume to 11 for them and Lorna. But I can now confirm that baby Ves’s piano improv from a couple weeks ago did have heavier breakdowns. This band was one of my last ex’s favorite bands (apparently he lives in Phx now, so there’s a good chance he was in the pit) and he was almost spot on in mimicking Phil’s vocals, so I haven’t really listened to them for 9+ years. Surprisingly I was familiar with about half their set, so I had a great time with that, despite the ex thing.

I am proud to say that I am the lucky survivor of four crowd surfers over my head at once. Security were amazing at handling that influx in such a small space/time span. It’s my fault for getting kicked in the face because I didn’t duck in time for one, (I was filming lol) but I didn’t get a bruise/swollen lip. Morning after edit: I actually have a lot of bruises but they’re on my arms from the barricade and not getting kicked in the face. I filmed White Chapel’s new song plus a couple others, I have no idea how well they turned out yet. Also there are three guitarists?! Things I did not know about the band.

Phil spoke the least out of all four frontmen. He introduced the new song, I think he asked us to open a circle pit once, thanked us at the end, and that was about it.

Lorna Shore came on really fucking quickly after White Chapel. Like 20ish minutes, I think? It was 9:20 pm on the dot. Those roadies were busting their asses. Idk what was up but it got really hot inside when Lorna took the stage, even with being on the barricade. I recorded five Lorna songs: Welcome Back, The Pain Remains Trilogy, and To the Hellfire.

At one point Will said something about being too dry from the desert heat (he was the only person to mention the heat) and I thankfully stopped myself from blurting out “bitch where?!” because I was currently drenched in sweat. I know he was talking about the 106F high plus the 9% humidity, but still.

Okay can we talk about Adam De Micco now? I need to talk about Adam De Micco. More specifically Adam eye contact. There was so much Adam eye contact. Like, bro was making eye contact with everyone on the barricade, so it wasn’t a special occurrence… but oh my god when I tell you there was eye contact there was eye contact.

Quick fact about me: I have this thing about smiling at strangers when I catch them looking at me (because I have chronic rbf, sometimes accidentally zone out and end up looking in the general direction of people, and asking “why are you looking at me?!” while possibly looking pissed off is generally too hostile for everyday occurrences).

So. Eye contact. The first time I realized he was looking at me and not around me, I internally panicked and automatically smiled at him. Thing is, it wasn’t one off. This man was staring into the souls of every person on the barricade. But because of my panic smile we’d just hold eye contact until he had to look down at his frets or I panicked and looked at Will or Austin. At one point, he and Andrew switched stage positions and Adam would still *hold eye contact me* from the other side of the stage. It got to the point where I was convinced maybe I had a busted lip from the crowd surfer incident or my makeup was fucked from the heat. Everything was fine when I got back to my hotel? Eyeshadow, eyeliner, and eyebrows hadn’t budged at all and my lips were a little faded but not bad. My hair wasn’t even as crazy as I thought. So does Adam just do that? I didn’t catch a glance from any of the rest of the band, or any of the guys in White Chapel, I think I remember the Kublai Vocalist or guitarist looking somewhere in my direction, and the Sanguisugabogg Vocalist was literally chatting with everyone between songs. But Adam took it upon himself to make me and everyone else on the barricade feel perceived, like it was his life mission or something.

I feel like… because Vessel looked at me once during TNDNBTG back in May and I got a tattoo because of it, that I now owe Adam a tattoo too? I am 100% overthinking this. But I’m also not even joking, I’ve been thinking about getting his sigil tattooed somewhere since I left the venue. I also followed him on Insta before I was out the doors. Anyway, emotional support from Will Ramos has ended. My new emotional support person is Adam De Micco. Yes, because of excessive eye contact.

Evening after addendum: Mother Token face reveal on Lorna’s Instagram. I’m tiny and I’m the only person paying attention to Moke, but at least I’m not sobbing like I was for Adam Rossi’s Euclid sneak-shot. Also yeah, the more I think about it, the more I'm probably gonna get that sigil tattooed (ref 👇). Might have to wait until after Xmas though, with the way money is flowing right now.

[samkat10423]

More Veronaville

Lately I've been making sims for my three cemeteries. Yes, there are 3! Because God knows, the Capps and Montys can't bury their dead in the same place - nor do they want the town's riff-raft next to their dearly departed. Anyway, I hate CAS - as you all know - so in between creating dead sims, I'm still working on the town itself.

One of the things I did, was replace the city hall with one of those 3-in-1 rabbit holes. Mostly because 1) I am too lazy to do the whole military base and 2) I needed the spot where the police station was for my live show venue. In any event, I think this rabbithole looks nicer in this town. I'm guessing it came from that boat ep, but since I hardly ever play that world, I didn't remember it. But I do like it here. I've added a podium so my politicians can wax poetic, trying to con the populace into voting for more taxes, and a soapbox for my protestor sims. Plus Sandy's bike park shelter for the bicycles.

This is my new consignment store. It's right across the street from where the old police station was. I found the original lot over on TSR. I just "fixed" it, by redoing the landscaping, adding some vines on the building and signage. The white building I left empty, mostly because it has a weird set-up inside, having been built on a different level than the main build. So, it's just set-dressing.

And here's the new live show venue lot where the police station was. In danjaley's version, she had also had an old Globe Theater in her town, which shared a lot with a theater rabbithole. I really liked that idea, so when I saw this lot over on Mod the Sims, I grabbed it. In my town history, this was scheduled to be torn down, but Consort Capp said, "Over my dead body!" To which Patrizio responded, "That can be arranged!" Anyway, the Capps prevailed in saving it by having the building registered on the Sim National Register for Historic Sites. For those of you who don't know, that means it can't be torn down - ever. Anyway, old Patrizio blocked all funding for its restoration, so the Capp family footed the bill - with the stipulation that their name be added to the National Registry plague out front. This royally ticked off the Montys, since 1) it makes the Capps look magnanimous and 2) this building is actually on the Monty side of the main island. So, they built a new theater on the Capp side. (More pictures of that later).

Anyway, I think this was built before Showtime came out, since the original stage wasn't a 'real' stage. I made it a bit smaller so that I could put those benches out front and then used that smaller 6 by something stage. Then I went outside and relandscaped the lot. Go, me!

[colleenmurphy]

"So...do we know why my Dad left? Who he even is? Because I'm drawing a blank here and I'm not liking it, Mother."

The tall dark haired woman turned ever so slowly from her place at the stove top as she stirred the pot atop it. Her shoulders slumped slightly before she gently set down the well worn wooden spoon onto the counter and came face to face with her seventeen year old mirror image in both facial features and temperament. She knew this day was coming but she sure as hell didn't think it would come at 5:45 on a Monday evening during a busy as hell October.

"Caroline Eileen.."

Colleen could almost hear the smirk in her daughter's voice.

"What's my last name?"

Walking out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into her bedroom Colleen grabbed the small box she kept her stash in and grabbed a roll up and the lighter she always used. Thinking better of it she snatched up the box and the photo album and came back downstairs.

"It must be interesting if you've The Box out..."

"Sit down, please."

It was a demand or a barked order it was a simply, if slightly tired statement meant to get her daughter's attention as she sat herself down and felt every bit of her forty-seven years and an additional 20 years for the partying she'd done before Caro came along.

"Ok..fine but please don't ever make that face at me again. You look just like Granny."

A sudden sense of deja vu swept over Colleen as she went about preparing a second and then a third roll up. She'd had this conversation before, she knew it she felt it in her bones. The words were already out of her mouth and the feeling of being punched in the gut gripped her.

"Mirror mirror on the wall I am Mother after all.."

Clapping her hands over her mouth she felt like she was either going to laugh or cry. Her therapist warned her of having moments like this the older Caroline got.

"I...I'm sorry..I'm so sorry Carri..."

Caroline's dark eyes widened as she saw a side to her mother she'd never ever seen before. She'd seen her mother all glammed up for the stage, heard her sing to packed venues and travel the world and at home being her normal jean clad t-shirt wearing self as she did housework. She'd seen her mother at the start of the divorce and how she handled Frank's suicide afterwards. But this? This crying profusely apologizing breaking down was something Caroline never wanted to see again. It just hurt too much.

"It..Mom it's ok. I don't know what you think you did but you don't have anything to be sorry for..."

A hiccuping sob sounded from across the table as Colleen lit her joint with shaky hands before motioning for her daughter to open the album. Inside was a trip straight back in time. Photos from tours in Europe circa early 76 and into the start of 1977 painted a picture of two very bohemian young artists who had the world by the tail. Strolling the streets of Amsterdam together hand in hand, kissing under one of the arches at the Coliseum and on The Spanish Steps before another page turned and they were in France and then various photos from their trip to Galway to visit Col's granny Sheehan.

"Who's the old dude next to the other dude?"

"That's my father...we trekked through six different towns before we finally found him. I went through the same conversation with Granny Eileen when I was your same age."

"No fucking way..."

"Yes. But your Dad was there with me every step of the way.."

Caroline studied the various photos and then flipped the page and went wide eyed all over again. A mini poster for one of their first gigs as The Vault had been carefully pasted into the book, the band had gone through many line up changes but three never wavered. Charlie Wilbury on guitar, Colleen with that damn tambourine and Jerry Withers, or Whip as they called him, on the drum kit. Back then he kept his bear full and his hair shaggily long. His large frame wasn't quite hidden by his kit set up yet but he was still grinning like a fool as he wrapped an arm around Colleen.

"My Dad is Jerry fucking Withers?!"

Caroline didn't seem noticed her Mother's face fell for a moment as her heart skipped a beat in terror. Colleen had prepared herself for everything but the onslaught of questions that were about to fired directly at her.

"Why didn't you tell me I've been listening to his stuff literally all of my life? How did you two meet? How long were you two together? Why'd you marry Frank? Where'd he go?"

In all her years she never thought telling her daughter would be as simple and easy and just...remembering.

"Woodstock. We met when we were both just college students. Your Aunt Helene and I went and we'd lost your Aunt Liz and Charlie somewhere in the crowd just before Creedance Clearwater Revival came on and we were just talking to people having fun and we got swept up into a smoke circle and I saw his hands first...large massive paws

A hard large lump formed in her throat as her eyes welled up with tears.

" As he nudged me to pass me a joint and we were talked and talked like we were in our own little bubble. We were inseparable after that and once he met Charlie we were off and running to the races. Charlie and I broke up and Whip and I ended up together for the better part of ten years.."

Caroline was always quick on the uptake with numbers.

"Until I came along..."

Colleen watched Caroline's hand reach for the joint in the ashtray and sighed before swatting her hand away but she missed the left hand that snatched a roll up from the awaiting box.

"If you can't handle it that's on you my darling dearest daughter."

"Not to detract from the heaviness but where do you get your stash? I've always wondered. It's like you're magic or something

Simply shaking her head with an age old maternal smile. Caroline was certainly her father's daughter.

"That's for me to know and you never to find out. Whip...and I were together for a long time, yes, but when it came down to having a quiet life together...he just needed more. I wasn't enough to keep him happy, so I married Frank and you know how that ended when you were little."

Caroline fumbled for the lighter, a heavy Zippo Colleen had been given by a friend long gone from her growing up years on the Copperline and etched with a gator head and lit her roll up and took a rather large drag from it. Sputtering and eyes bugging it fell into place. Years of gifts and cards and little things slipped into place. The weekends Mom took every few months. She was slowly trying to rebuild and welcome Whip back into the fold.

"Are you guys still on speaking terms?"

"Yes, he's still working on himself. He was a perfectionist in the studio and that was his major hang up. He was so exacting he couldn't focus on anything other than the music. But he knows about you..."

"I figured all those gifts ' from Santa' and the 'birthday fairy' were from him somehow. When can I meet him?"

"Hey hey, I was the birthday fairy young lady. He was the good luck dragon. Well, he should be home by now and it's not like you have a long walk."

Getting up and stretching herself in a very catlike fashion Colleen smiled at her daughter's confusion. Unlike her Caroline didn't have to go across the world and hunt down her father.

"Walk? You're stoned."

"He only lives a house down on the left."

"Granny told me that was Mrs. Krandall! The crazy cat lady from Modesto and that I shouldn't bother her as she was nuttier than a fruitcake."

"That sounds like something Ma would tell you. Now, c'mon lets go and surprise him shall we?"

Looping her arm through Caroline's Colleen lead her towards the house she'd literally been born in back in December of 1977.

"You know you were born here, right? Like literally in this house."

"Wha..."

"Yep, in the master bedroom."

"Mom!"

"Well, it's better than telling you where and when you happened isn't it?"

"Oh god.."

"It was Saint Patrick's Day and we were stuck in Chicago of all places so we ended up at a bar downtown and one thing led to another. Van Morrison was on the radio.."

"JESUS MOM!"

[carsonian]

12. things you said when you thought I was asleep for stevetony prompts 🥰

Jennnn I'm so sorry this ended up a billion words longer than you probably wanted it but I hope you still like it??? Thank you so much for the brill prompt xx

Be Their Own Star Witness on AO3 | 9,021 words | Rated M

“You shouldn’t have eaten that last fucking donut.” Tony whispered in a menacing tone, and Steve did his best not to erupt into laughter right there and then.

Two months into wedding preparations, they’d made a pact to not have any arguments with each other. They’d seen too many couples ruin their relationship by making opposing stances on filigree known, or well, Steve had read about too many couples ruining their relationship over wedding preparations when he’d been browsing pros and cons of different wedding venues on Reddit.

(Beaches were apparently hell on suits. Tony had made a very pouty face over not getting to use the beach near his house in Dubai, but he’d conceded when Steve painted a very pretty picture of what champagne and sand would look like together.)

The pact was almost instantly difficult. They were both very opinionated people by nature, and, as their friend group could easily and maybe too eagerly attest, one of their primary love languages was bickering. Old married couple bickering. For God’s sake, they’d gotten engaged because Tony’s brain had picked up on Natasha calling them an “old married couple” one too many times, and while the man still refused point-black to the first part—

(“—We’re thirty-four, Nat,” Tony sniffed, “That’s not ol—”

“I’m thirty-one.” Steve pointed out.

“Oh, yeah?” Tony turned away from Natasha to sneer at him, “What’re you doing out of the cradle then, you big baby?”

“Exploring the great unknown,” Steve shot back, “How’d you dig your way out of the grave, old man?”

“Like a worm. The fastest, wriggliest worm you ever did see. . .speaking of. . .”)

—well, case in point.

(Yes, Steve would still love Tony if he were a worm.)

Anyway, it had taken about six days before Tony started confessing his daily grievances to Steve at night, when he figured Steve was asleep. To his credit, Steve had been mostly asleep the first two times he’d heard Tony going off, having assumed that Tony was just talking to himself as he was wont to do. But then, he’d caught the word “peonies” and realised Tony was recanting his earlier affirmation and saying that he in fact did not like white peonies and thought it was rather bland of Steve to even consider it.

A few days later, Steve had casually suggested to their wedding planner, a stern old woman by the name of Mrs. Arbogast, to look for more unorthodox flowers. When she’d shown up to their next meeting with a protea pin, Tony had perked right up while being none-the-wiser to Steve cataloguing his perkiness.

Steve had swiftly realised that this new pillow talk may actually work in their favour and began staying up long enough to hear Tony complain about whatever they’d signed off or done that day. While the original pact had been to just not argue about the wedding preparations, it felt like they rarely argued about anything deeply these days; so much of their life was work, and then wedding prep, work and occasionally sex, and then wedding prep again. So, it was nice to get his own fix of Tony at a time when it felt like they didn’t ever get a minute to talk about nothing, and doubly nice because Steve could make Tony happier without the man needing to ask for it.

He had his limits, sure—he refused, on his fucking doctorate, he refused to have the wedding cake be a life-size recreation of them—and not just because it would be a hell of a lot of fondant but because it was fucking tacky, Tony. Jesus.

Most of the time though, the things Tony was holding back on weren’t hard concessions at all. Like flowers. Like not wanting to invite anyone from the board. Like wanting both Rhodey and Bucky to get a best man speech.

And then, there were other times when Steve would be waiting solemnly for Tony’s opinion on DUM-E doing the ring-bearing and instead he’d just get—

“I mean, you know I’m fucking watching my weight because unlike you, I don’t have the time or inclination to work out two hours a day.” Tony continued, “And yet! And yet you flaunted that donut with rainbow sprinkles in front of me, you goddamn bitch. What happened to pride month? What happened to “together”, huh? What happened to “Tony, I’ll support you no matter what,”? That was the opposite of supportive, that was—you are on thin fucking icing, babe. Thin fucking icing.”

Steve could not have been happier about having his back to Tony. As discreetly as he could, he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, fervently trying to keep his laughter in.

A moment later, he heard Tony sigh and shift in bed. When he spoke up again, it was quieter, more sincere.

“I better get a donut at my wedding. Just sayin’.”

Oh—now, that. That Steve could arrange.

.

“Hi,” Steve greeted as he walked in, whipping off his tie with one hand, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Just give me five minutes to change?”

“Yeah, no rush.” Tony was at the kitchenette, tapping away on his laptop, “Mrs. Arbogast had a doctor’s appointment so she’s running late as well.”

“Oh, bliss.” Steve dropped his keys off in the fruit bowl and made his way over to the kitchen to drop a kiss on Tony’s temple, “All good?”

“Mm-hmm.” Tony flitted a distracted look at him, “You best change quick though.”

“Reckon I can get a shower in?” Steve asked.

“Mmm.” Tony made a contemplative noise, bringing a hand up to rub at the corner of his mouth. It brought to light the golden ring sitting snug on his finger. The novelty of the sight still made something proud hum in Steve, and he fell to the urge of bringing that hand to his own lips, kissing it lightly.

He felt Tony’s eyes track the movement and when he looked up at him, Tony was giving him a smile filled with content warmth.

“Go ahead.” Tony said, “Your showers are a five-minute affair, anyway.”

“Yeah, when I don’t have you distracting me.” Steve said.

“Oh, puh-lease.” Tony said, voice still an ooey-gooey traitor of his affection, “I didn’t hear you complaining about it last—what was it, Wednesday?”

“Baby,” Steve huffed in amusement, “I ain’t complaining now, either.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed a little as he retracked the conversation, “Huh, true.”

“I’ll be down in eight-ish.” Steve said, squeezing Tony’s enclosed palm one last time before straightening.

“Want me to heat up a quesadilla for you?” Tony asked.

“Fuck,” Steve pointed a finger at him, “I’m a fucking genius for marrying you.”

He carried Tony’s laugh with him up the stairs.

.

“Wedding invites.”

“Oh no,” Tony teased, “Shit’s getting serious. Last chance to back out.”

It had been Tony’s go-to joke since they’d started planning the wedding and Steve’s mouth twisted in a half-smile as he rallied with his go-to response:

“Not a chance.”

“Language, Anthony.” Mrs. Arbogast admonished lightly, and they both straightened as they turned to her.

“Sorry, Mrs. Arbogast.” Tony said, and Steve held back his own cheeky smile. He still wasn’t sure why Tony had insisted on employing the same wedding planner that had organised Howard and Maria’s wedding but then again, it had seemed to make Maria very happy so maybe he did know. Tony was a real mama’s boy.

“I was thinking of something elegant, understated.” Mrs. Arbogast pulled out a few templates, “See, here? But . . .” And at that point, the grey-haired titan gave Tony a narrow look, “I know Anthony and his preferences, so I put together some bolder choices,” She pulled out some more templates before adding, “And as for you, Steve, what do you think—of this?” She put forth some stencils.

Steve turned to Tony, “Whaddya think?”

“I like the red, and the gold,” Tony said, flicking through the samples, “But that’s—what do you like?”

“Red and gold is nice.” Steve said.

“But red and gold is—” Tony gestured meaningfully, “It’s more me than you. What colour scheme do you like?”

“Uh—blue is nice.”

“Of course, blue is nice.” Tony said, “But which of these—here, have a look at these shades. Which do you like?”

Steve sucked his bottom lip in as he looked the options over, “Uh…”

“You’re thinking of something else.” Tony said abruptly, “What are you thinking of?”

“How—” Steve’s frown melted quickly under Tony’s blunt scrutiny, “Okay, yeah, I am.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“Illustration.” Steve cleared his throat, “One I did of you, from when we first got together.”

“But that’s just of me—oh, would you do yourself too?” Tony asked.

“Uh. Well, I was thinking you would do one of me.” Steve suggested.

“But I’m terrible at drawing.” Tony said, “It’ll look sh—um, bad.”

“It could be a technical drawing, not a sketch. Like what you do for those prosthetic blueprints.” Steve said, “And you’re not bad at drawing.”

“Um.” Tony frowned, “Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

“Just try. It doesn’t have to be what we go with, but. . .” Steve shrugged, “I think it could be memorable.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled, a touch awkward, “That it would be.”

.

Steve had just sent out an email to his TA cohort when Tony sat down at the other end of the couch, folding his feet under his thighs. Once seated, Tony let out a long-winded groan and plopped his head down on Steve’s calves.

Steve lowered his laptop screen to give the man a look of bemusement. When Tony didn’t look up, he leaned forward to pat the brunet’s head..

“What’s up?”

At his prompting, Tony raised his head and shuffled closer. Steve deposited his laptop on the coffee table and stretched his arms out. His ever-mature fiancé fell into his arms with a huffy exhale. Steve let out an “oof” when Tony hit his chest, but a low chuckle hummed in his chest as Tony proclaimed, “Art is a mean sport.”

“That well, huh?” Steve murmured.

Tony’s arms wrapped around his torso, head turning so that his ear sat against Steve’s chest.

“You’ve got a Grecian face,” Tony mumbled into his shirt, “And I’ve made it look like Greek salad dressing.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” Steve said, stroking a hand down Tony’s hair and over his upper back.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Tony grouses, “Because I know your sketch has an insane amount of detail, and whenever I see it, I feel so gorgeous, but my sketch will probably do a number on your self-esteem.” Tony lifted his head, “But it’s not because I don’t find you hot, I mean, duh, you know that, but I just don’t have your skill in—oh my god, would you stop laughing?”

Steve laughed harder when Tony’s hands came up to rub at his cheeks, turning his head this way and that in mock affront.

“You’re gonna kill me before the wedding.” Tony complained, “This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?”

“No, Tony—” Steve grabbed onto Tony’s wrists to pull them off his cheeks, still laughing, “No, I ain’t. Come on, baby, lemme talk.”

“Oh, what—you’re going to say, I’m sure it’s not that bad and honey, even if it is, I’ll still love it because it’s you.” Tony imitated his cadence before making a disgusted noise, “Well, blegh. We’re not doing that.”

“Why not? I like doing that.” Steve said.

“This is our wedding.” Tony said, “And these are our wedding invites. This is where we set the tone, and if we go with my drawing, we’ll basically be saying, hey everybody, the circus is in town. And people will come to the town square in impossibly small clown cars. Do you want that, Steve? Do you want squirting flowers and impossibly long handkerchiefs?”

“Okay, okay, how’s about this—” Steve brings his own hands to Tony’s cheeks in a mirror of what the man had done to him earlier, “I do the drawings and you do the stencil, the design.”

The tension in Tony’s face buffered as he considered Steve’s idea, and then finally, he nodded, “That could work, actually.” He turned his gaze back to Steve’s eyes with a stern gleam in them, “But you’ve gotta do a proper drawing of yourself, alright? None of that wishy-washy sketching you do when it comes to self-portraits.

“I’ll submit it for peer review. How’s that sound?” Steve asked.

Tony laughed shortly at that before thwapping his head down onto Steve’s chest with a relieved sigh. “You are the perfect man.”

“That’s funny,” Steve mumbled into Tony’s hair, “I thought that was you.”

.

Steve and Bucky were at the gym, getting a workout in before their group’s bi-weekly brunch.

The brunch thing was a tradition from days gone: their little group used to meet for a cheap meal at Stan’s diner every Friday back in college. That felt like years ago, mostly because it was years ago. Steve and Tony had still been just friends when it had kicked off; the former working through his master’s in art history and the latter in his final year of his seventh PhD.

It had begun as a kooky quartet: just Nat and Bucky along with the two of them, and then for a spring, Peggy, before she’d moved back to Hampstead. People came and went as they grew through different friendships. Tony had brought over Bruce, and Steve had brought over Sam (much to Bucky’s longstanding chagrin), and Natasha had brought over Clint (much to everyone’s longstanding chagrin). Thor and Loki had been an amusing duo but after Loki and Clint had an impossibly convoluted fight, the two brothers had broken off from the group, and only kept sporadic contact with them now that they were back in Norway.

There had been a few months when Rhodey had been in town, and those had been Tony’s most exuberant. The lunches had been the source of true amusement; for most of ‘em, hearing the sheer number of ridiculous stories from the two’s adventures in undergrad, before Rhodey had joined the army and Tony had started on his first PhD, and for Bucky and Natasha, the private amusement of bearing witness to Steve’s boiling jealousy.

The weekly lunches had become brunches as they grew older and into occupations, and then became a monthly occurrence, usually at Steve and Bucky’s old apartment. Finally, when Steve and Tony got their shit together and subsequently their dicks together, they’d started having brunches every second Friday in a private, lavish restaurant in Stark Tower. While all of them had decently pressing jobs, no one’s was as subject to whim as Tony’s, and with his increasing visibility in the public eye, it made most sense to congregate at a location that suited him.

This year’s schedule was such that Steve’s classes and Bucky’s shifts worked out to give them an extra two hours before brunch time. So, like the gym rats they were, they went and worked out.

“C’mon, that all you got?” Bucky taunted; hands braced a few inches above the bar. Steve puffed a breath out and heaved up the bar. He’d finished the set two reps prior, but Bucky was doing a good job of amping up his nerves. He did two more straining reps and then huffed out a panting, “Okay.”

Bucky took the bar readily and slotted it back on the rack. “Alright, get your sweaty ass off the bench.”

“Agh.” Steve straightened and got off, watching as Bucky thoroughly wiped his bench before getting on it. He knew the man was doing it more as a gag to try and get under Steve’s skin rather than out of actual concern for hygiene.

“Mature.” Steve said as Bucky tossed the gym towel at him with an expression of severe disgust.

“Pay attention, loose hands.” Bucky said as he lined his hands up against the bar, “Unlike you, I’m actually lifting heavy.”

“You’re so full of gas, it’s a miracle this place ain’t blown up.” Steve huffed, bracing his hands above the bar as Bucky started his reps.

“One, two, three, four,” Steve coughed, “Four, wrist, Buck—”

“Shuddup.” Bucky panted.

“Four, four, wrist, Buck.” Steve said, “You have tendonitis, dipshit, fix your technique. I’m not counting it until you do.”

A few moments, and then Steve amended, “Five, six, seven, eight. One more, come on. Alright, now get to ten. You got it, there you go.”

Bucky put the bar back into its slot with an audible clang before sitting up, “I fuggin’ hate you.” He accused Steve before getting up.

“I’ll make Sam my best man,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “Naw, go on, test me.”

“Yeah, yeah, like he could write a better speech than me. I got the keys to your childhood, punk.” Bucky said, “Get on the bench.”

Steve settled back on the bench, taking a minute to align his hands properly. It was his personal quirk; he liked settling his fingers as equidistant as he could get them on the bar and didn’t mind taking time to ensure it.

“You’re so slow.” Bucky complained, “Are y’like this in bed too?”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” Steve asked, “Weirdo.”

“Just feeling bad for Tony.” Bucky said, “And, uh, speaking of Tony…”

“Oh, cute, here we go.” Steve lifted the bar, brought it down, “Whaddya want?”

“Why’re the two of you being so fuckin’ subservient?” Bucky asked, “When I came over on Tuesday, Tones didn’t say anything about us co-opting the living room for baseball, and he usually throws a hissy fit just on principle. But he just gave you a smooch and went back to his room.”

“Have you considered that he loves me?” Steve finished his last rep, slotting the bar back in place before looking up at Bucky.

Bucky blew a raspberry, “Aw, no way. I thought the marriage was just to get that Stark bounty.”

“Stop, he’s sensitive about that.” Steve warned, getting up.

“Alright, alright, but seriously—what’s up?” Bucky asked, “Is this the pre-honeymoon?”

“We made a no arguments pact.” Steve explained, “Until the wedding.”

“A no arguments pact?” Bucky frowned, “How the hell are you two keeping to it?”

“Um, maybe because we love each other?”

“Yeah, and you express that love with a decent side dish of public arguments.” Bucky said, setting back on the bench, not bothering with the towel this time, “How’re you coping?"

“Well.” Steve waited until Bucky was near the end of his reps and mid-lift, keeping his hands braced to spot, “The sex is going to be great.”

Bucky slotted the bar back before giving him a deadpan look.

“What?” Steve put on a look of ingenue innocence, “You asked.”

“And I am repenting.” Bucky sighed, “Let’s do our stretches and get outta here.”

“We haven’t done legs.” Steve pointed out.

“It’s arms day.” Bucky retorted.

Steve crossed his arms, “Tony likes my quads.”

“Tony likes my quads.” Bucky imitated in a high-pitched tone, “Gawd, you have it bad.”

“Yeah, and who spent an hour working out his core before meeting Natasha?” Steve threw out.

“That was eleven years ago, fuckhead.” Bucky tugged his hair tie off and gathered his sweaty strands together to retie it, “Can we move on already?”

“Yep,” Steve snapped his fingers, “Come on then, leg press time.”

“Fuckin’ Tony.” Bucky grumbled, picking his towel up from the floor.

“That’s the plan, yeah.”

Steve wasn’t really surprised when Bucky threw in the towel—not even when it ended up thrown on his own face.

.

“See, my question is—thanks honey—my question is, when the fuck did we start wearing flower crowns in weddings?” Tony complained, “Is this a queer thing I totally missed out on or is Jan just punking me?”

Natasha wrinkled her nose, “Nuh-uh. No flower crowns.”

“Thank you!” Tony said emphatically.

“I think we’d look cute with flower crowns.” Steve said, just to mess with Tony.

“No!” Tony took a sip of his lemonade, wincing before amending, “No thank you, I mean.”

“A circle of…” Steve’s lips twitched, “White peonies along your head,” He stroked a line against Tony’s temple, “Real pretty.”

“I see you for what you are.” Tony poked a finger against Steve’s chest, “Menace.”

Still, it was obvious in the sudden line of relief in Tony’s shoulders that he had genuinely believed that Steve wanted flower crowns for their wedding. Steve pressed a conciliatory kiss against his shoulder before admitting, “It would be tacky.”

“So tacky.” Tony shuddered.

“Did Jan give you a final look of the suits?” Natasha pressed, twirling her fork into her pasta. Sitting next to her, Bucky uttered a drawn-out groan.

“If I have to look at lapels again, I will actually walk out.”

“Should we be so lucky!” Tony gasped, putting his hands together in an exaggerated hand-clap.

Bucky leaned back in his chair as he levelled a middle finger at Tony, and Steve’s soon-to-be husband returned his pseudo-brother’s mature gesture with a very mature one of his own; he stuck out his tongue at him.

“Jan sent us the designs, yes.” Steve answered in Tony’s stead, “I okay’d them but then Tony said he needed approval from the redheads in his life.”

“And mom.” Tony added.

“And Maria, yes.” Steve said, “Hands up, everyone who thinks Maria okay’d it.”

Natasha and Bucky’s arms stayed tellingly on the table.

“She still thinks Steve should wear the white tux.” Tony said, “And that I should wear a—” Here, Tony propped his fingers up to do quotation marks, “—A pillowing, charcoal-grey, semi-transparent veil beaded with Swarovski crystals.”

“Now that I agree with.” Steve said to Tony, “Oh, c’mon, you’d look so pretty.”

“Can you imagine Howard’s reaction?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes, “He’s still calling our wedding the BFG wedding.”

“Big fat Greek wedding?” Natasha asked.

“Big fat gay wedding.” Tony corrected.

Bucky visibly choked on his drink, some of the lemonade spilling over onto the table. Natasha handed him a napkin before replying, “Well, that’s a B for creativity.”

“If we’re going to account for Howard’s taste in our wedding, then we should go ahead and tick off inflatable dildos from the gift registry.” Steve teased.

“Wh—” Bucky started.

“He’s joking.” Tony rolled his eyes, “Though calling that a joke is testing the limits of honest comedy.”

“Honest comedy like the video loops of robots falling that you cackle over?” Steve checked.

“Yes.” Tony gave Steve a haughty look before turning his head back front to face Natasha, “Besides, it’s not about the veil so much as it is about the fact that I just know that every time I glance over at him during the wedding, he’ll be giving me a stink eye.”

“I mean—if you’re gonna stink, be the biggest stink you can be.” Bucky said through a mouthful of lasagna.

Steve raised his fork at Bucky, “Hear, hear.”

“Uh—” Tony turned to face him, mouth set in a straight line, “Can we drop this?”

“. . .Sure.” Steve agreed after a beat.

“Okay, what?” Natasha looked between them before turning to Bucky, “Did they drop the argument, just like that?”

“They’re doing some tantric sex foreplay.” Bucky explained to her, patting her arm in consolation.

“What the f—” Tony started.

“—Tantric sex?” Steve completed.

“Oh, great, because they can’t go off on each other, they’re gonna gang up on me.” Bucky said.

“Poor baby.” Natasha mock pouted.

“You’re on thin fucking ice.” Steve said to Bucky.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky spread his hands out in a soft imitation of jazz hands, “Global warming and whatnot. It’s all thin ice moving forward.”

“. . .Steve.” Tony prompted when Steve didn’t say anything back to Bucky.

“Well, that was a good one.” Steve admitted.

Tony sunk his head into hands, making a deflating balloon noise into his fingers.

“We broke him.” Bucky announced solemnly.

When Tony didn’t raise his head, Steve frowned and put an arm around the man, “Hey, let’s go to the bathroom.”

“Ugh.” Tony pronounced, “Nah, I’m going back up to the office.”

“Y’okay Starky boy?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said, shaking his hair out of his eyes, “I’m just more wired than I thought.”

“It’s ‘cause you guys aren’t fight—” Bucky raised his hands in surrender when all three of them shot him a threatening stare, “Alright, alright, I’m the asshole.”

“Nah, you’re not.” Tony got up, “Hey, get some dessert on me.” He put his card down, “Since I’m still on that stupid diet.”

“Which you don’t have to be on.” Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes at him and picked up his phone and suit jacket from the table. Then, with a kiss to Natasha’s cheek and a slap to Bucky’s hand, he walked off. Steve gave his goodbyes to the two of them before rushing after Tony.

He only caught up to the speedwalking escapee when he’d reached the private elevator.

“Penthouse?” Steve asked, “. . .Hey, what’s up?”

“Don’t you have a class in like, two hours?” Tony said, eyes on the lift button.

“Yeah.” Steve got into the lift with him, “Tony, what’s—”

Tony rolled his eyes. Again.

“You are wired today.” Steve grabbed onto Tony’s arms and dragged him close, “Come on, Tony, what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“I’m annoyed and trying very hard to not lash out more than I already have.” Tony explained in a dull voice. Still, he didn’t try and escape from Steve’s hold, resting his forehead against Steve’s collarbones.

“Hey, Tony?” Steve said, chin resting atop Tony’s head, “I’d rather you screamed at me than held back like this.”

Tony sighed, lifting his head up, finally meeting Steve’s gaze with a soft lost look in his eyes.

“Do we really fight that much?” Tony asked.

“It got to you, huh.” Steve ran a hand through Tony’s hair. It was gelled and slicked back, and his fingers came off the hair with a tacky feel to them. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Tony’s head anyway.

The lift beeped softly as they arrived at the penthouse, and Tony broke from his arms to walk out through the doors.

“Every one of our friends has commented on the fact that we haven’t been arguing,” Tony called out, “And then expressed shock that we’ve been able to hold ourselves to it.” He plopped down on the living room couch. He wouldn’t lie down while in the suit; Tony got fussy about wrinkles when he had to be at SI. After a measured inhale, Steve went over to sit down next to him.

“Makes you think, I guess.” Tony finished on a sigh.

“Nah.” Steve denied, “They don’t mean it like that.”

Tony turned to him with a defiant look but before he could rebut, Steve added, “And even if they did, it wouldn’t matter because guess what?”

“. . .What?”

“It’s our relationship. You and me. We know that our arguing doesn’t make us a bad couple, that even if we cross the line, we know how to walk back. We’ve done the work, remember?”

“I guess.” Tony said, leaning over to rest his head against the crook of Steve’s neck.

“And hey,” Steve turned his head to press another kiss against Tony’s head, “Guess what?”

“This is a lot more guessing than I’m comfortable with.”

“The sex is going to be phenomenal.” Steve whispered.

A sputtering laugh left Tony’s lips, appearing to startle the man himself as he put a hand over his mouth.

“Aw god.” Tony said, laughter still rounding the words, “You’re right about that.”

.

Steve was waiting on it, but it was still hard to keep his body deliberately untensed as Tony crawled onto his front later that night, pressing his nose into Steve’s neck.

“Let’s just not fight.” Tony suggested quietly, “After we get married.”

Then, with a rueful sigh, “Though, if we’ve gotta fight, there’s no one else I’d rather fight than you.”

And then, thoughtfully to himself, “Maybe I should wear that veil.”

.

“Two hours, Tony.” Steve said into the phone, trying to bite back his frustration, “I asked you if you could make it with the board meeting today, and you said, absolutely, and this is the last catering check, Tony, we only get three of those and it’s not—”

“D’you still want me to come?” Tony interrupted, voice tight with tension, “‘Cause you can yell at me later but I’ve got about a hundred meters before the intersection.”

The words ran like a bucket of cold water over him. Steve ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his head as he did so.

“No, I’ll meet you at home.” Steve said.

“Fine.” Tony clicked off almost instantly.

It was only after Steve made his goodbyes to the catering manager and Mrs. Arbogast, packed up the food, and got into his car that his frustration substituted for remorse.

He whistled a low breath out and put his head against the steering wheel.

“Shouldn’t have yelled.” Steve admonished himself.

He knew better. Eight years of dating—goddamnit, he knew better. When he got upset, it was better to step away from Tony. Burn that energy off somewhere else. Tony could be biting and mean too, and their rows—the proper rows, anyway—were rough creatures. But there were also times, when Tony would shelve off the part of him that hurt and go blank. And Steve knew what it looked like, knew that Tony would be tight-lipped—and yet, he’d still—

“Fuck.” Steve groaned.

.

When he got home, Tony was already in bed. Propped against the headboard, he was reading the book that Pepper had recommended to him. The reading glasses that had been prescribed to him after his last visit to the optometrist were set on his face, and they concealed a little of the bright brown Steve was accustomed to.

“Hi.” Steve offered.

“Hi.” Tony returned, gaze lifting to meet his for a moment.

Steve breathed in, out, and then extended the olive branch. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He said softly.

“I shouldn’t have been late.” Tony replied readily. His finger tapped against the cover of the book as he added on, like it had been torn from him, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, I’m sorry.” Steve said, walking to Tony’s side of the bed and sitting down next to the man. “I know it must’ve been out of your control.”

“Thank you for saying that.” Tony said. It was familiar, a line they’d learned when they’d gone through couples counselling, two years into their relationship. They’d had a disagreement that had blown out into what their friends now teasingly referred to as “the civil war”. Putting themselves back together had required a lot of work.

It had fortified them, but, and Steve remembered their therapist’s voice even now as she’d said, we all hurt the ones we love. Even when we have the best intentions. It’s what we do after that defines who we are.

Steve had taken it to heart then, and he brought it out now.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” Steve admitted. “I know better than that.”

Tony put the book flat on his lap, giving him a conciliatory smile, “It’s alright.”

“I got most of the samples from the caterer.” Steve offered, “I could’ve pushed for another check, but the lady seemed like the kind to keep score and I didn’t wanna—”

“It’s alright.” Tony put the book away and got up, “Should we eat ‘em now?”

“Yes, please. Just—” Steve rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Let me shower?”

.

Steve was lathering his arms when Tony pulled the shower curtain open, walking in.

“’Scuse me?” Steve said.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Tony said.

“By all means.” Steve rinsed his arms off before turning to kiss Tony.

“Shower-shower or sex-shower?” He whispered against Tony’s temple.

“How about, we wash each other and take it from there?” Tony suggested.

“Sex-shower, then.” Steve said.

Later, as they towelled dry, bathroom steamy as the vents worked overtime to make up for it, Steve considered their reflections in the bathroom mirror.

“What are you thinking?” Tony asked, hip-checking him gently as he pumped a handful of lotion into his hand.

“I like how we look together.” Steve said, “Just—I like how we fit.”

“Hmm.” Tony slapped Steve’s face lightly, smearing lotion across his cheek, “That’s good. No need for plastic surgery.”

“Ye-eup. That’s why I’m marrying you. No plastic surgery.”

“Oh, babe, I agree.” Tony rubbed the lotion in before turning back to consider their reflection in the mirror.

“Our love may not be perfect, but we are damn sexy.” The world’s foremost futurist proclaimed.

And Steve, his soon-to-be husband, was helpless to do anything but agree.

.

Later, after Steve had feigned sleep for about thirty minutes, he felt Tony slide close to him and impress a kiss against the nape of his neck. Then, after a moment, Tony’s forehead rested against it. Steve did his best to keep his body loose, unresponsive like someone asleep would be.

He waited for a few minutes for Tony to speak, to say something. He knew the man was still awake, could feel it in his irregular breathing. Part of him wanted to drop the ruse, to turn around and cover the man with his own breadth. Soothe the lines of lingering whatever. But he also knew Tony wouldn’t talk, had maybe already dug a shallow enough grave for this blip.

Tony was very good at the retrospective water-down: convincing himself that things hadn’t actually hurt that much once the bleeding stemmed.

It was just as Steve was genuinely reaching the threshold of sleep, the time between each blink longer and longer, that Tony finally spoke up.

“We’re only three weeks away.” Tony whispered. “We signed off on the food today. The food we’ll have for our wedding. This is. . .real, isn’t it? All of this. I’m—”

“Can you believe it?” Tony continued, “That it’s happening?”

Steve had never wanted so badly to break free from this secret as he did now. He wanted to bring his arms up, pull this moment apart like cotton candy and hold Tony. Tell him, it’s happening. And I can’t believe it either. But I’m so happy.

He wasn’t sure what it was that kept him from doing so. And when Tony slipped off him with an exhale that lingered bone-deep, he stayed awake a while longer, thinking of the sunrise spread before them. Of their future. When Tony’s breaths turned to snores, he turned over and shuffled close to his soon-to-be husband—no, his fiancé. His fiancé. Because even if the future was a stone’s throw away, he was in no rush to meet it. He was happy, right now, right here, with his fiancé in his bed.

Steve fell asleep like that, nuzzling against the back of Tony’s neck and arm slung around his heart.  

.

“You’re frizzing out.” Tony observed, tone surprised.

“I’m not frizzing out.” Steve denied outright, turning back to walk through the hotel’s bedroom and into the sitting room. The suits were ironed but he’d just had the thought to put the plastic cover back over them.

“Yes, you are.” Tony had followed him through the door, and the expression on his face was that of charisma at rest.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Steve said, straightening out the plastic sheet.

“Like what?”

“Like that.” Steve splayed his hand demonstratively at Tony’s face. “It’s the same expression you have when you’re sucking my dick and you know I’m close to coming, and you choose that—” He snapped the plastic cover to straighten it out, “—moment to pull off. Just t’keep me on edge.”

“Wow.” Tony crossed his arms, amusement strikingly obvious, “And here I thought I’d be the one to have cold feet.”

“I’m not having cold feet.” Steve said, putting the plastic cover on Tony’s suit. Both suits were beautiful but something about the clean white against Tony’s warm tone was fantastical. He couldn’t wait to see Tony in it. They’d agreed to do the first look on the morning of their wedding, though both had consulted each other on the design extensively enough. Since they’d signed off on Jan’s design, Steve had spent many a minute in the gym imagining the suit on Tony. He was looking forward to it. Amongst about a hundred other things. Steve looked over at Tony after carefully setting the suit down. “I’m having hot hands.”

“Hot. . .hands.” Tony echoed.

“I’m so excited, I dunno how I’m going to sleep.” Steve said, snapping the other plastic cover before sliding his own black suit into it.

Steve heard Tony’s footsteps as the man pattered over to him, and then felt the man’s arms around him just as he set his own suit down. Tony pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, their height difference meaning that it landed closer to the juncture between his jaw and neck.

“I have hot hands, too.” Tony said, “You know that, right?”

“I know.” Steve turned his own head to face Tony, foreheads meeting as he leaned in. He closed his eyes, just letting the moment seep between them. “We’re gonna get married.”

“We are.” Tony agreed, a short but overjoyed chuckle following the words, “Oh my god, we are.”

“I’m a little freaked out.” Steve leaned back to open his eyes. Tony’s eyes were radiant when they met his, but—and this was damn telling—absent of even a flicker of uncertainty. “I want to check on mom and dad, and I want to go wake Bucky up so we can grapple, and I want to have you—here, on the rug—but I also want to savour this evening for what it is, to wait it out, but I’m—I’m jumping outta my body.”

“I know, baby.” Tony said, “I feel the same.”

“So, what do we do?” Steve asked.

Tony wrinkled his nose as he deliberated before finally deciding, “Let’s do that.”

“All of that?” Steve checked.

“Well. Not the sex, though, because you’re super into delayed edging.” Tony rolled his eyes before adding, “And oh, we are not checking on my parents because Howard will be working and mom will probably start troubleshooting my hairstyle for tomorrow and if I see another Pinterest board in this fucking life, I will find a way to destroy the internet.”

“Can’t have that.” Steve said, before turning around, bringing Tony into his circle of arms.

“Let’s do that, then. Your parents, Bucky, Rhodey, and then sleeping together without sleeping together.” Tony said. “Our last night before the rest of our lives.”

“I like the sound of that.” Steve said.

“I like the sound of you.” Tony volleyed, and Steve leaned down to kiss him for it.

.

That night, they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, four hours before they were meant to get up. There were no late-night confessions this evening, no need for anything really but the silent symphony of the two of them at peace.

.

Steve opened the door and stepped back just so he could throw his hands in the air, “Really?”

His father and Tony looked up from their little hideout, a cheeseburger between them.

“Oh, come on, I just wanted one bite.” Tony whined, “I’ve been on a diet for three months!”

“Stevie, he just wanted one bite.” His father, ol’ Joey Rogers, said, “You’ve been starvin’ him for three months.”

“I’ve not been starving him, it was his choice, and besides—we have twenty minutes before we’re expected at the altar.” Steve got to the crux of it.

Tony startled, “No! What, really?” He latched onto Joe’s wrist, turning it over to check the time, “Oh, shit.”

“Only you’d be late to your own wedding.” Pepper added, coming up behind him. She had a clipboard in her hand, a black one she’d gotten from Mrs. Arbogast. She’d readily taken on the task of timekeeping and had come to Steve when she couldn’t find Tony in their suite.

“I’m not late. Not yet anyway.” Tony stood up, giving Joe a hand up before handing him his walking stick, “Okay, pa. Wedding first, cheeseburger later.”

“I’ll save you a bite.” Joe patted his hand reassuringly. “Hey, son, what’s the rush for? It’s not like I gotta walk you down the aisle.”

“You gotta get to your seat, dad.” Steve said, “Ma’s been looking all over for you.”

“Aw, jeez, whatever. Alright, let’s go.” Joe said, wrapping the burger back up and pocketing it.

.

“Anthony!” Maria rushed up, “Oh darling, I’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Steve asked.

“Surprise, don’t listen.” Tony warned.

Steve raised his eyebrows but turned away, moving off to the front seats with his dad.

His mom was already seated, a flute of champagne in her head.

“You’re drinking, ma?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Oh no, darling,” Sarah Rogers shook her head, looking like summer incarnate in her sunflower yellow gown, “Maria just handed this off to me because she had to get—oh, I’m not supposed to say.”

“I’ll take that, then.” Joe said, taking the glass and downing it.

“Oh, Joey.” Sarah tilted her head, “What if she wanted that back?”

“There’s no shortage of ‘em.” Joe defended himself.

“You want another one?” Steve turned to see Howard coming up, two glasses of scotch in hand.

“Uh, sure thing, Howard.” Joe said. None of them mentioned that Joe hated scotch.

“It looks bad if there’s only one dad drinking but both of them?” Howard laughed, already a little tipsy, “That’s a partnership.”

“Cheers to that.” Sarah said brightly.

“Yeah, uh, by the way,” Howard put a hand against Steve’s shoulder before saying, with the enthusiasm of a lamb to the slaughter, “Maria told me to say that you look real spiffy.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.” Steve smiled.

“Please, you’re marrying my son.” Howard said, smirk a little like Tony’s for how it slanted to the right, “Call me Mr. Stark.”

“Haha.” Steve said, “Would you like to sit down here?”

“Nah, I’ve been told that my seat’s on Tony’s side.” Howard said, “I was just told to scurry off while Maria made Tony up like a girl.”

“Like a girl?” Steve frowned.

“Maria gave me a list of words I’m not allowed to use.” Howard shrugged, “It’s comprehensive.”

“. . .Great.” Steve decided on.

“Everything looks absolutely wonderful.” Sarah pitched in, standing up to tweak Steve’s bowtie. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“Like a keg ‘bout to explode.” Steve answered honestly.

“Attaboy.” Joe grinned.

“Don’t you worry.” Sarah said, “Bambi and Pepper are on everything, and Buck’s corralling all the guests into place. You just keep yourself presentable. You have your vows, right?”

“Yep.” Steve patted his suit jacket pocket.

“You need me to go over them with you?” Sarah asked.

“Ah, not again.” Joe rubbed a hand over his face, “C’mon, Sarah, he’s got it memorised back to front but we all know that in the end, he’s gonna get six words in, put ‘em back into his pocket and start improv’ing.”

“Dad, that’s not. . .” Steve considered it for a moment, “Huh, you’re probably right.”

“Precedent speaks for itself.” Joe shrugged.

“I don’t reckon Tony’s even thought of his vows.” Howard said, thoughtfully.

“Oh, he has.” Sarah said, “The two of them asked me to help them with the editing, you know, ‘cause they wanted to make sure neither of them were saying the same things as the other.”

“Huh.” Howard said, a thoughtful note to the word, “Well. I guess I should get some water then. Sober up a little.”

.

Steve found out about the surprise when Tony met him at the entrance to the hall, before the doors from which they’d be making their walk down to the altar.

“Oh.” The word left Steve in a breath as his eyes ran over his—fiance. The last time that word would be used for the man standing before him, a vision in white and now with a delicate, short white veil over his face. It glittered under the lights, and Steve realised the shimmer came from crystals that had been woven into the fabric.

“So, you like it.”

“Tony.” Steve managed, arms rising of their own accord to skate along Tony’s arms, his shoulders. “You. . .”

“You too.” Tony agreed.

“I mean, just...” Steve said, “The veil is very nice.”

“Thank my mom.”

“I will.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve when he stayed there, rubbing his hands up and down Tony’s arms, “Oh, you like-like.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, you like it as in this is doing it for you.” Tony said.

“Yeah, kinda.” Steve said, “You realise you’re an absolute tease for springing this on me?”

“Mom told me to make sure you dip me for the pictures because it’ll look really pretty with the veil.” Tony said, “But I told her that just ‘cause I’m wearing a veil, does not mean I’m the girl in this relationship. So. I’ll be dipping you.”

“So I’m the girl?” Steve frowned.

“Well. No. We’re both men.” Tony blew out noisily, “You’d think you would know that.”

“Can you even hold my weight?” Steve asked.

Tony gave him a truly annoyed look, “You keep that up, you’re not gonna get to fuck me tonight.”

“Well, then,” Steve leaned close to whisper, “Your Brazilian wax will go to waste. And your enema.”

“Like you care if I have either of those things.” Tony squinted at him, “You’d wanna fuck me anyway.”

“Yeah.” Steve shrugged, “Can’t deny that, won’t deny that.”

The old jazz piano started playing from inside the hall and they both mustered up.

“Well,” Tony smiled, and even with the veil, it was brilliant, as effervescent as the crystals. “Last chance to back out, Rogers.”

“Not a chance, Stark.”

.

“And I swear on my doct—”

“Oh, is he swearing on his doctorate again?” Tony came up behind him. The wedding after-party was in full swing, and they were making their rounds.

“Well,” Steve put a proprietary arm around Tony’s hip, “We don’t all have three of them. I gotta cash mine in while it’s got value.”

“Sorry, am I still needed?” Clint asked, “Because the third-wheeling is making me wanna call my ex.”

“Do not call Laura.” Steve warned, “Go talk to Sharon. She’ll set you up.”

“With a woman?”

“What, no. With a drink.” Steve waved Clint off. “And don’t get into a fight with Loki!”

He was about to speak to Tony when Howard and Maria came up.

“Oh honey, careful with the veil.” Maria said, leaning up to fix the veil’s positioning on Steve’s head. After Steve had dipped Tony for the kiss, Tony had transferred the veil onto Steve’s head and dipped him, cheekily quipping, “How’s that for two men?” after. Once the reception had kicked off, he’d insisted that Steve keep the veil on his head, though Steve had pulled the fabric off his face to see better.

“It really wasn’t made for a black suit,” Maria said in an undertone before smiling at Steve, “Oh, but darling, you look wonderful.”

“Thank you, Maria.”

“Oh, none of that now.” Maria tutted, “We’re family, Steve. You call me, “mama”.”

“. . .Thank you, mama.” Steve said, touched despite himself.

“None a that for me.” Howard said, “I like you, Stevie, but I didn’t even like Tony calling me papa or, agh, daddy. Remember when you were young enough to say it?”

“Yes, and I still have issues from it. It’s why I call Steve “daddy” in the bedroom.” Tony said before snorting, “I’m kidding, dad, no need for the stink face.”

“I thought jokes were meant to be funny.”

“You’re at a gay wedding, dad.” Tony pointed out, “I’m all out of I-hate-my-wife jokes.”

“I have never made a joke like that.” Howard said to Maria, “I love my wife.”

“I know, Howie.” Maria patted his arm in reassurance. “Tony, that’s a lovely joke.”

“I know.”

“Don’t repeat it.” Maria said.

.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” Tony said in an undertone, “He’s going to think I actually call you “daddy”.”

“Hmm.” Steve held Tony’s hip as they danced around the hall, “Not my thing, baby.”

“Me neither.” Tony said, “Gosh, the cake was good.”

“You’re full?” Steve asked.

“I could be fuller.” Tony tilted his head, “Why? Are you propositioning me?”

“Not yet.” Steve said, clearing his throat, “Hey, let’s dance over into the dressing room.”

“You’re really not propositioning me?” Tony double-checked.

“Not like that. It's my surprise. Now,” Steve said, “be subtle-like. Don’t want people thinking we’ve eloped.”

“Pft,” Tony said, “Okay, follow my lead, then.”

.

“Y’know,” Joe clinked his glass with Howard’s, “I always wanted two sons.”

“Yeah?” Howard sniffed, “You wanted ‘em to get married to each other, too?”

.

“The veil was a beautiful touch.” Sarah said to Maria, and the woman beamed, looking like a bride herself in white. Apparently, the not-wearing-white rule didn’t count if there were two grooms and one of them was your son. To her credit, Maria and Tony had looked beautiful in the family photographs.

“I had a black suit and veil handy too,” Maria confided, “Just in case Tony changed his mind about the suit.”

.

“Good job, gang.” Bucky raises his glass. Rhodey, Natasha, Happy, Sam and Pepper raised their glass.

“To Steve and Tony, and their everlasting love.” Pepper toasted.

“And their everlasting board game nights.” Happy added.

“And their everlasting prolonged eye contact.” Natasha said.

“And their everlasting arguing, now that the pact’s done with.” Rhodey said.

“And our everlasting third-wheeling.” Sam said.

“Hear, hear.” Bucky finished.

.

Steve took the little box out from the mini-fridge and proffered it to Tony.

“A gift?” Tony made a show of raising his hands to his cheeks in coy flirtation, “Oh my, hubby, you shouldn’t have.”

“Unwrap it, Tony.” Steve said.

Tony loosened the pink ribbon, tossing it before flipping the box open to look inside.

“Oh, baby.” Tony gazed up at Steve with so much affection that it looked like the heart-eyes emoji come to life. Steve didn’t think his heart had any room left for love but the frisson of joy that ran from his neck to spine proved him wrong.

Tony’s hand reached into the box and brought out the donut with rainbow sprinkles he’d ordered for him.

“Thank you.” Tony said in a hushed tone, and emotion kept it heavy and low; like if he spoke any louder, he would burst apart from it all. Steve understood it perfectly; he felt the same way.

“Every time.”

“You mean, any time.” Tony said as he took a bite, eyes closing to savour it.

“No,” Steve corrected, soft as the donut, as the curl of Tony’s eyes, as this moment, “I mean every time.”

.

Steve took the hallway down to their suite. He’d said goodbye to everyone: hugged his parents off, helped Maria bring a drunk Howard back to their bedroom, given Mrs. Arbogast the bouquet of flowers and champagne Tony had bought for her. His husband—wow, that was novel in the best way—had headed off with Rhodey a half-hour back, telling Steve he was going to change out of his tight shoes.

He hadn’t come back though, and Steve had assumed he was taking a kip back in the room. They’d been on their feet for the better part of the day, after all.

“Tony?” Steve called out as he entered their suite. Tony wasn’t in the sitting room, and Steve lingered for a moment at the threshold to take in the sight of the leftovers from their morning frenzy. Tony’s empty espresso cup. Gel and hair products strewn across the vanity. The powder Maria had used on Steve’s face. The mascara Tony had run along his own lashes. A spread of their lives just before they’d gotten married.

Suddenly, he had to see Tony. His husband. Steve turned away from their past and faced their future, quickly making his way through the sitting room to the bedroom.

“Tony. . .?” Steve trailed off, brought to a standstill at the entrance.

Tony was laid back on the bed, wearing the veil. Steve swallowed roughly.

Just the veil.

“Hey, husband.” Tony said.

Steve stepped forward.

.

Steve was actually dropping off to sleep when he heard Tony.

“Thank you for the donut.” Tony whispered, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. Thank you for saying yes when I proposed. Thank you for us. For this day, and all the days ahead.” Tony continued, “I love you.”

“I love you today.” Tony said, “I love you tomorrow. I love you forever.”

Steve breathed out, mind jolting so quickly to wakefulness that it felt like exhaustion was being siphoned out of him.

“What, you’re not going to say it back?”

Steve’s breath stuck in his throat and his eyes snapped open. Tony had his head propped on Steve’s chest and he sat up a little to meet his gaze.

“You knew?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Tony confessed.

“All this time?” Steve confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Wow.” Steve said, “You sneaky minx.”

“Could say the same for you.” Tony said.

“A pair of sneaky minxes, then.” Steve decided, “The two of us.”

“Ha!” Tony kissed a tender spot high on Steve’s neck, “Okay, okay, we’re creeps, we’re weirdos.”

“Don’t go all Radiohead on me now.” Steve mumbled, patting Tony’s flank, “Sleep now, baby. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure out what to call it.”

“Steve Rogers and Tony Stark yesterday.” Tony said, “Steve Rogers and Tony Stark today.”

“Everything changes but us.” Steve caught Tony’s drift.

“You get me, honey, you do.” Tony said.

“I got you.” Steve breathed out, “You got me.”

And it set to stone between them like a promise. A new pact: one they’d keep till the end of their lives. The charming crux of this lush day and the evermore point of their future together.

I got you.

You got me.

[wheelin-after-midnight]

10.

What’s better: winter break or spring break?

I don't really have a preference because those breaks don't apply to me anymore, but I'm gonna go with spring just because I passionately hate winter in this country.

Are you cold, hot, or comfortable at the moment?

A little chilly, but nothing I can't handle.

How many concerts have you been to in your life?

I've seen Jann Arden three times, in three different venues, two different cities. I also saw Whitney Houston's concert for a post-apartheid South Africa when they remastered the show from Durban, 1994, and released it in theatres in October. If she were still alive, I wouldn't actually count that, but I never had a chance to see her while she was here. The theatre was not extremely big, but those of us that were there were singing and boppin' along and crying like we were at one of her actual shows. The sound was also amazing. You could feel the floor vibrating. It was the next best thing to actually being present in South Africa at that time.

What’s your favorite TV show?

Empire is definitely one of them. Army Wives, You, Me, Her.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted?

Ew. That's my mother. 🤢

Would you rather paint your room puke green, or eat a potato bug?

Paint a room puke green. I'll just paint over it later. I'm not eating a potato bug.

How old were you when you had the chicken pox?

Four or five, maybe. I remember I only had a few of them, but my mother ended up being absolutely covered in them.

Ever had a friend named Alex or John?

Yes to both, but not extremely close friends.

Are you one who misses a lot of school, just because?

I was absent a lot, but I mostly had legit medical reasons or appointments. I would just work ahead while I was out so I didn't fall behind the class.

What type of music do you listen to the most?

I hate this question. It's in the same vein as "what's your favorite song?" I don't know. I have 6,500 songs on my Spotify, man. I could maybe narrow it down to my top 100. My favourites rotate. I like such a large, eclectic variety of music across so many decades. Anything from about the 50's to today. I can't pick just one genre. Country was my first love and what I grew up on and grew up singing as a young kid. I also like R&B/soul, Motown, some gospel stuff even though I'm an atheist now and don't really identify with or find comfort in my family's beliefs, pop, rock, reggae, easy listening, Latin/Spanish music... Idk. Literally everything, dude. The only things I don't really listen to are heavy metal and screamo type stuff, but it doesn't mean I hate it. One of my best friends is pretty into music like that and I'll listen to it with her and let her teach me about artists or bands in that space. I think it's important to be present and genuinely support the interests and passions of people I really care about, especially because those who were meant to care about me aren't that present at all and basically just shit on mine.

What are you looking forward to in the next month?

Nothing. I can't even say Christmas. I hate it.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to?

Anyone I wish I could genuinely spill my guts to about certain things wouldn't listen or care, so I likely won't bother ever again.

When was the last time you painted a picture?

With my Nan when I was a kid. It's still hanging in my place. She let me put my name on the canvas, but she had a heavy hand in how well it turned out. I'm not a very skilled artist in that sense at all. She was.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now?

Home, asleep or just waking up.

Can you drive? When did/do you get your license?

No. I never will.

Have you ever had to get braces?

Leg ones, not on my teeth.

What brand and flavor was the last gum you chewed?

Mint.

Are you happy with your relationship status?

It's an open relationship. I agreed to that and it's a long story I'm not gonna get into here. I don't completely hate it, but I would prefer it to be closed and just her and I. That's how we used to be and just what I would personally prefer. I love her more than I hate the open aspect of things, and our relationship is healthy and going well on the whole.

What did you have for lunch today? Was it good?

I don't really have set meals. I just eat when I'm hungry or when I wake up. The first and only thing I've eaten so far today is bacon and cheese on toast with mayo.

Which one: chocolate chip or sugar cookie?

Sugar cookies.

Who was the last person that you sincerely apologized to?

I don't know. I have a tendency to over apologize a little bit. I don't remember the last time I was genuinely at fault for something and it was warranted.

Do you like the smell of gasoline? Why or why not?

I do.

Do you like the color orange? Is it your favorite?

No. It's probably my least favorite next to yellow. I do think orange cats are pretty cute, though.

What kind of ice cream did you last eat?

I don't remember. I don't eat it very often. I have to be in the mood for it. I'm not the biggest fan.

What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs?

I'm usually not too big on hot dogs either, tbh. But if I do eat one I'll usually just put mayo on it.

Have you ever been in a spelling bee?

In school as a kid.

Do you enjoy talking on the telephone? Who do you talk to the most?

Yeah, but I hardly ever hear other people's voices generally. I talk to babe on the phone, if anyone. Sometimes dad, but not often.

Do you think the last person you texted is attractive?

No.

Does it bother you when people don’t answer questions with exact answers?

If it's something that requires an exact answer, yeah.

Do you know how to snap your fingers?

Yeah.

In what order do you get ready in the mornings?

If I'm showering when I get up, I make sure I feed Nippy her wet and dry foods and clean her boxes first, take a shower, get out, put on deodorant, underwear, pants, bra/top, brush my hair, brush my teeth. If I choose to skip the shower that day it's basically the same, but minus that part and going straight to food and/or coffee after getting dressed.

When did you last cry? What for?

I cry pretty much daily. Sick of some of the things my disability causes me to deal with, depressed and anxious about having to move.

Where were you at 9:18 this morning?

Asleep.

When was the last time you consumed alcohol? Last night.

The 2nd to last person you texted, how did you meet them?

Elementary school.

Do you call it a crush, or do you just say you like someone?

Neither. I say I love her because it's way more serious than like or a crush.

Have you been drunk in the last week?

No.

What’s your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?

I just eat when I'm hungry or when I wake up, which isn't always at the same time or in the early mornings, but if I do want breakfast type food, it's often eggs or something with eggs incorporated.

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Behind Closed Doors: Part 1

Intro:

How's this for a cover picture? It's AI generated lol - I asked ChatGPT for ideas for what sorts of things could be included for a cover picture that gives of the vibe that suits the story (I was originally going to make a cover by myself using some pics off of Pinterest or something), and it generated a mockup image of the Renaud Records building. I had no idea it could even do that! I'm not even paying to use the plus version... I didn't do much... just cropped it a little, and did some colour grading on it. I think it looks alright!

Anyways, I was going to wait a little while before embarking on this new adventure, but I've been feeling like I've been putting stuff off for a while, and I don't know that is a positive thing for me anymore. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's necessary to take breaks, but there's a difference between that and stalling because of fear or uncertainty. I don't want to do the latter, so here I am!

It's so cool to be able to do this again with a new writing project. I really hope you guys enjoy it! I love these new characters with all my heart, and I hope their journeys throughout the story entertain, inspire and move you as much as they have with me. Here is where it all begins...

The Gala

(Setting: A lavish charity gala in late September. The venue is an upscale hotel ballroom decorated with crystal chandeliers and elaborate floral arrangements. Elena Crewe, wearing a simple black dress, nervously adjusts her name tag while scanning the crowd of wealthy attendees.)

Angie: (approaching Elena with two glasses of champagne) Hey, girl. You look like you could use this.

Elena: Oh gosh, yes. Thanks. (takes a glass) I feel so out of place here.

Angie: You'll be fine! Just remember - you're here for a good cause. Besides, most of these people are way less intimidating than they look.

Elena: Easy for you to say. You work with them.

Angie: Well, I don't work one-on-one with them or anything... not really. But I see them all the time where I work. Trust me, once you get past all the designer labels and fake smiles, you realise that at the end of the day, they're just people. (notices someone across the room) Oh! Speaking of people... Vincent Renaud just walked in with his brother Lewis and his wife. I forget her name. But I know it begins with an "S." Sarah, perhaps? Wait, that's not right...

Elena: Where?

Angie: By the entrance. Tall guy in the navy suit, talking to that other tall guy in grey who's holding hands with that blonde woman in red. Ugh, what is her name again? Susan?

Elena: (nervous laugh) Oh wow. He's... not what I expected.

Angie: What did you expect?

Elena: I don't know. Someone older? More... corporate looking? He looks like he belongs in a magazine or something.

Angie: Yeah, the Renauds won the genetic lottery AND the money lottery. Life's not fair sometimes. (checking her phone) Shoot, I need to go handle something. You gonna be okay by yourself for a while?

Elena: (shifts nervously, but nods) Yeah, I think so. Thanks again, girl. Wish me luck!

Angie: (smiles) Go get 'em, tiger. And remember - they're all just people.

(Angie leaves. Elena takes a deep breath and makes her way toward Vincent, who is now alone checking his phone.)

Elena: Uh, hey! Hey, Sir. Can I talk to you for a sec?

Vincent: (looking up from his phone, slight surprise in his expression) Yes?

(Elena is briefly taken aback for a moment. He is a lot more striking in appearance in person than he is online and in pictures. His piercing blue eyes are particularly striking, and leave her momentarily in a bit of a stupor that she brushes off once she realises that they've been standing in silence looking at each other for a little too long)

Elena: You're Mr. Renaud of Renaud Records, aren't you?

Vincent: (locks his phone and puts it away) Yes, I am. How can I help you?

Elena: Oh, I'm Elena Crewe. I work in New Horizons, and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time? I don't know if you know anything about it... it's a non-profit organisation that helps at-risk young people.

Vincent: New Horizons... the one with the youth outreach program?

Elena: You've heard of us?

Vincent: (small smile) I make it my business to know about interesting local initiatives.

Elena: Cool! So, you are familiar with some of our work, then. That's really great to hear. And it makes things a little easier for me.

Vincent: Well, I think it's just really good to keep yourself informed on things. Especially things that show a lot of promise. Is there anything specific you wanted to discuss about New Horizons?

Elena: Uh... (gets a bit nervous again upon becoming aware of the intense eye contact between them at this point. Tries her best to push through the conversation) I was wondering if I could talk to you about all the other things we do to support kids in need, and their families as well. It would be great to get some extra support, especially from someone like you.

Vincent: Someone like me?

Elena: Y-yeah. You know…

Vincent: Or me?

Elena: Well, I mean I'm here talking to you, aren't I?

(Something like intrigue or amusement flashes in Vincent's eyes for a moment, but when he talks again, it is in the same polite but detached business-like tone as before)

Vincent: (looks around the increasingly busy room) You know what? I think we should go somewhere a little more quiet. Come with me, Miss Crewe.

(They make their way to the more private terrace outside, away from the loud crowds of people in the venue. There, they continue their conversation)

Elena: So, how much do you know about what we do?

Vincent: (leaning against the wall) Enlighten me.

Elena: (gaining confidence) Well, we work with at-risk youth, providing everything from after-school programs to career counselling. Last year alone, we helped over five hundred kids stay in school and off the streets.

Vincent: Wow...

Elena: (smiles) Yeah! It's great to be able to make such a difference.

Vincent: May I ask why you're here?

Elena: (smile falters slightly) What?

Vincent: What are you looking for, exactly?

Elena: Support. Financial support, specifically. But also potentially partnerships. Your influence could-

Vincent: (interrupting) My influence?

Elena: (standing her ground) Yes, your influence. The Renaud name carries weight in this city. Having you publicly support our cause could make a real impact.

Vincent: (smiles, amused) You're very direct, Miss Crewe.

Elena: (shrugs, trying to push past her nerves) Is that a problem?

Vincent: No, no. (chuckling) Actually, it's refreshing. I'm used to most people spending twenty minutes kissing up before getting to the point.

Elena: Well, I figured your time is valuable. And honestly, so is mine.

Vincent: (raising an eyebrow) Is that so?

Elena: Yeah. Every minute I waste on social niceties is a minute I could be doing my actual job. Protecting and supporting those in need of my help.

Vincent: Huh.

Elena: What?

Vincent: (incredulous) You actually enjoy working?

Elena: (laughs) Yeah, I do. Weird, right?

(Both of them laugh a bit at this)

Vincent: Alright, alright. Let's focus on the matter at hand... tell me more about your little project.

Elena: Okay. With all due respect, Mr. Renaud, this is so much more than just a "little project." We're changing lives at New Horizons... I mean, the decrease in gang activity alone this past year has been incredible.

Vincent: Really?

Elena: Yeah. And we've supported so many people through complex family issues and seemingly impossible situations. Last year, I worked with a seventeen-year-old named Mateo. It was his last year of high school and he was on the verge of dropping out, caught up in the wrong crowd and falling behind on his schoolwork. But through our mentorship program, he not only was able to stay in school but also landed a scholarship to study engineering.

Vincent: (nodding slowly) Impressive.

Elena: Yeah... he's on track to getting his dream job. He's so excited about that. Oh, and there's Layla...

Vincent: Who's that?

Elena: Layla Young. A young single mother who was struggling to make ends meet. She took one of our vocational training courses, and now she’s running her own small but successful catering business. She recently got engaged, I believe. She's doing really well right now.

Vincent: That's amazing.

Elena: Yep! And that's just two out of hundreds of cases. What we’re doing really works. But to keep it going, we need support. That's why I'm here.

Vincent: (studying her with newfound interest) You really believe in this, don't you?

Elena: I do. Because I've seen the difference it makes. These aren't just statistics, Mr. Renaud. These are real kids with real potential.

Vincent: Hmm. Well, this is a lot of interesting information. And it is clear that you care a lot about your cause, which is great. Why should Renaud Entertainment care, though?

Elena: Because helping those in need is a good thing.

Vincent: Uh-huh…

Elena: What? That's not good enough of a reason for you?

Vincent: Miss Crewe, you're trying to negotiate with me here. Correct?

Elena: I guess.

Vincent: You should really get the other party interested in what you have to offer. That's the whole point of negotiating. Give me a compelling business case.

Elena: ...Fine. I have other reasons why you should care, too. Aside from the obvious moral imperative, I believe partnering with New Horizons would be good for your company's image and reputation. Consumers often value brands that give back to the community. This could be excellent PR for the company. So this partnership would be mutually beneficial as a whole.

Vincent: (nods slowly, taking it in) Okay...

Elena: (gaining confidence upon realising that he seems genuinely interested) And think about it - these kids are the future. The next generation of writers, producers, singers, actors… the very backbone of your industry. Your future talent pool. By supporting them now, you're investing in the future of your business. You need to help them so that they can help you. You know?

Vincent: Mhm.

Elena: Young people are your biggest audience, too. Investing in them now isn't just charity - it's smart. Business-wise. And well, considering your company profits largely from youth culture and entertainment, wouldn't it make sense to invest in the next generation?

Vincent: You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?

Elena: Yeah. (pauses) Wait, what's that supposed to mean?

Vincent: (chuckles) Nothing, Miss Crewe. It was just an observation. But this has been a really interesting talk. You've certainly given me a lot to think about.

(Vincent's phone chimes in his pocket. He takes it out and looks at the notification before looking up to face Elena again)

Vincent: Unfortunately, I can't stay much longer. Family commitments, you know how it is.

Elena: (tries to hide the disappointment in her voice) Oh. Is everything alright?

Vincent: (nods, puts his phone away again) Yeah, yeah. That was just my brother. He's taking Sable home early because she was feeling under the weather. But he also reminded me to meet up at Cam's for our weekly dinner get-together. Can't miss it.

Elena: I understand. Thank you for your time, anyways.

Vincent: Tell you what, though... I don't mind continuing this conversation. We can arrange a meeting for next week and finish things up then?

(Vincent hands her his business card)

Elena: (eyes widening) Oh!

Vincent: Yeah. Call this number, my assistant will work something out for you. This conversation has been fun. I'm looking forward to continuing it.

Elena: (taking the card, a smile spreading across her face) Oh, me too! Thank you so much for this.

Vincent: Of course. (turns to leave, then pauses) Oh, and one more piece of advice - next time, you might want to consider dressing a bit more... appropriately for these kinds of events.

Elena: (looks down at her dress. It was a hand-me-down from her mother, and the nicest, most expensive thing she owned) O-oh. Ok.

(With a final chuckle, Vincent departs, leaving Elena momentarily flustered and unsure how to feel about his parting comment. She stands alone on the terrace, staring at the card in her hand. Her emotions are a swirl—part excitement, part indignation, part something else she doesn't want to closely focus on. She exhales sharply, trying to shake off his final remark)

Angie: (pops up from behind her) Hey! There you are.

Elena: Oh, gosh. Where were you?

Angie: It's a long story... to give you the CliffsNotes version, my boyfriend's band has finally booked a gig. All thanks to moi.

Elena: Ah, that's awesome! Tell him I said congrats.

Angie: Will do. Also, I bumped into some fans of the pod.

Elena: That's cool. But speaking of the pod, have you finished editing the latest episode?

Angie: ...I'm getting to that.

Elena: Angie! We're already two weeks behind schedule!

Angie: I know, I know. It'll be done by the end of the week, I swear. How has the networking been going for you?

Elena: Uh... good. Better than I thought it would go, anyways.

Angie: Yeah?

Elena: I got somebody's business card.

Angie: Really? That's great!

Elena: Do I look okay?

Angie: ...What?

Elena: My dress. Somebody said it was inappropriate.

Angie: Who?

Elena: It doesn't matter, Ang. He's already left.

Angie: It was Vincent, wasn't it?

Elena: Uh... yeah. How'd you know?

Angie: I don't see him anywhere. Or Lewis. Or his wife. Whatever her name is... Stacie? Sophie?

Elena: ...Sable?

Angie: (gasps) THAT'S IT! I knew it was an "S" name...

Elena: (chuckles) Yeah, he made a comment about the fit. Didn't appreciate that... but talking to him wasn't all bad. He and I had a long and interesting conversation.

Angie: Ugh, the nerve of him. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be all that surprised...

Elena: What do you mean?

Angie: He's just like that sometimes, you know. Cold, stern business guy. It's easy to find him intimidating.

Elena: Gosh, yeah. I was freaking out the whole time I was talking to him. I tried not to make that too obvious.

Angie: Still, I thought he'd actually be decent. Especially since this is a charity gala and you are a complete stranger he's meeting for the very first time. Like, it's different from people he works with on a regular basis.

Elena: (shrugs, her tone resigned) It's fine. He probably didn’t mean anything by it. I mean, look at everyone here—they’re all dripping in designer labels. I guess I stood out.

Angie: (crossing her arms) Yeah, well, standing out isn’t a bad thing, Elena. You’re not like them, and that’s why you’re here — to shake things up. You're good at that.

Elena: (smiling faintly) Thanks, Angie.

Angie: Come on. (extends her hand) Let's go celebrate our evening of success with some more champagne.

Elena: Great idea. (takes her hand. The two friends head back inside together and have fun for the rest of the night. On her way home after the event was finished, Elena’s mind lingers on Vincent’s words and the way he looked at her during their conversation — sharp, assessing, but not unkind. She promises herself to focus on making sure she is well prepared for the next time she meets Vincent Renaud. She is determined to impress him and secure this deal with him)

Outro:

That's it for part 1. More or less how the story starts.

I have fully outlined this story, but I have no idea how many parts I will end up splitting these dialogue plans into... we'll see how it goes, I guess.

BTW, about Angie... she is meant to be Elena's closest friend in the story. And in past posts, I have called her "Angel." I like that name a lot (especially for a character that is a close and loyal friend or protector... makes me think of guardian angels), but I decided to change that here. Partially because I've already got a character named Angel in another story lol (not that these two stories can't be connected, but still). I decided to call this specific character "Angelina" because it is a pretty name (as well as one of my favourite Lizzy McAlpine songs haha), and it also happens to have the word "angel" in it. And I have the characters of this story refer to her as "Angie" for short.

Anyways, that's it for now. Hope you enjoyed the very first part of this brand new story. Let me know your thoughts.

[pynkhues]

On Louis being a snob (per the post you reblogged) and your tags - easily the funniest thing to me about Lestat taking Louis to the opera is that for Lestat, a 1700s man, opera was literally just popular entertainment and in no way highbrow. Like. He did the cultural equivalent of bringing Louis to a Taylor Swift concert. And it happened to work out because the status of opera changed a lot over time and now Louis gets to do something elitist haha

Yes!! I feel like surely Lestat had to know that opera was highbrow by the 1910s though, right, haha.

It's actually such a funny thing because one of the original novels I'm working on is set in the Australian performing arts scene during 1910 (it's kind of roughly set around Houdini's tour of Australia that year, but more specifically set around The Tivoli Circuit which was this string of intensely popular variety venues that would just do the wildest mix of acts), and I'm sure it was pretty different in the US, but knowing what was like, the really popular entertainment at the time - at least here - was comedy song-and-dance acts, minstrel shows, shows involving live animals (a lot of women snake dancers and a lot of men performing with monkeys), spiritualists and acrobats is just - - wild to me.

I spent a couple of months last year getting to work in the Australian Performing Arts archives and it was pretty awesome, and look this is barely related to your ask and probably only fun for me, haha, but have some pictures of this era of performance in Australia from the archives:

And don't forget, of course, all your stage career options! Comedian! A Serio and Dancer! Or a Dancer of Any Kind! Conjurer! Juggler! Contortionist or a Biograph Operator!

I love history, hahah.

[agirlattea]

Sincerely, a Rainbow of stories for you: 

Please Tell Me the Story of the Rainbow: Part 12

(Location: Magic Manor, Shylock’s Bar, Central Kingdom, Night Time)

Akira: (I see...the Northern Country is a meritocracy, where only the strong thrive. It's a harsh place for humans to live, but because of that, Wizards hold strong positions in society. 

From the perspective of Owen, a Northern Wizards who lived somewhere like that, of course something like this may sound strange.) 

...Do you think so too, Bradley? That it’s strange for wizards to be chased out of their homes by humans? 

Bradley: That's right: Cowards who run away after being mocked by mere humans lack pride. 

If ya’ have power, use it and live as you please. 

Akira: Power… 

Rustica: A person’s Innate strength is their hands and feet. 

To that young woman, seeing that world is nothing special. Just like we wizards use magic. 

Akira: ...It's certainly something to think about. As you say, Rustica, whether it’s normal or special doesn't make that much of a difference. 

I had heard that Luka was a witch with exceptional powers… I may have approached her like that too. 

Akira: It's difficult. By trying to understand someone, sometimes you push them further away. 

I feel a sharp pain deep inside my chest. 

Shylock smiled at me elegantly. 

Shylock: What a good night. Debates like this turn sweet alcohol bittersweet, and give it more flavor. 

Special or not, the mystery surrounding the author Luka is certainly expanding. 

The right to look into such a world is given only to eyes that have not yet been tainted… Isn't it like the beginning of a wonderful novel? 

His flexible fingers raise the glass, and the ice makes a sound. I thought it was the sound of night falling. 

(Location: Magic Manor, Courtyard, Central Kingdom, Day Time)

Akira Thank you very much. 

Rutile: Mitile, Riquet, if anything happens, make sure to report it to Figaro-Sensei and the others. 

Mitile: Yes! I'll search diligently!

Riquet: Of course, Mitile and I will do our best! Please leave everything to us! 

It was the fourth day of the exhibition. It had become a daily routine for Rutile and I to see off the wizards in charge of security. 

Figaro: I’m glad to hear that everything seems to be running smoothly so far. 

Akira: Yes, but I heard it's very crowded every day. I hope things will stay safe until the end... 

Figaro: I'm sure it'll be fine, leave it to us for today. 

Looks like Leno will be coming with me.

Lennox: Yeah. Rest assured, even if thieves break in, we did some training. 

Akira: Training…? 

Figaro: Rutile, if Luka comes to the venue, I’ll keep an eye on her. I'll let you know if anything happens when we get back. 

Rutile: Thank you very much. It's a simple request, but I'm sorry I can't accompany you today. 

Figaro It’s fine, keep up the good work.

Lords Snow and White reminded me, if something happens, I'll leave her to them. 

Lennox: Even now, we are all connected to mysterious creatures that we cannot even imagine.  

I used to live in the mountains, so there were times when I felt something strange when deep in nature or in places with strong magical power... 

I'm a little worried about a child facing that presence alone. 

Mitile and the others, who finished preparing for their departure, appear as Lennox speaks calmly.

Mitile: Figaro-Sensei, Mr. Leno! We have to go soon, the exhibition's about to start.

Riquet: Tardiness is strictly prohibited. We must fulfill our responsibilities properly. 

Mitile and Riquet: Well then, let's go! 

Akira Please come back safely! 

Astride their brooms, the wizards soared through the sky. 

Rutile and I watched until they were out of sight.

Akira: I the exhibition can continue without incident. 

Rutile: …Yes, I hope her new work can be unveiled safely. 

Rutile gently traced the cover of the picture book she borrowed from Arthur and spoke softly, as if praying. 

Akira (Huh…?) 

Suddenly, sparkling, rainbow colored scales seemed to sparkle in Rutile's hands. 

However, they disappeared in the blink of an eye, melting into space. 

Was what I saw now... an illusion? 

(Location: ???) 

Luka: (I wonder what this nostalgic smell is… A distant season...the smell of sunlight…) 

…Ah. I started remembering little by little. It was… a hot afternoon. 

I ran, ran, ran... before I knew it, I had passed through the forest and found myself in the city. 

I was supposed to be fleeing from people who did terrible things, but I ended up wandering into a place with lots of people. 

I sat down at the base of a tree by the street and cried a little at the faint smell of the tree. 

At that moment, something landed on my head suddenly. 

A hat that smelled like fragrant wheat: I thought that was the smell of sunlight. 

When I looked up, I saw slightly tanned skin and  amber eyes.

That person asked "Are you lost?". 

A human. If I don't run away, something terrible will happen to me again. 

That's what I thought, but the soft smell of sunlight made me feel at ease and suddenly I was tired…

I shook my head slowly. 

I'm not lost. Because there's no one looking for me. 

...I had been walking for days, and at that moment I finally lost consciousness. The next time I woke up, I was on a fluffy bed.

There was a wet towel on my head and a gentle voice at my bedside. 

"How are you?" 

I heard the sound of the window opening, and the sunset-colored wind gently swayed my hair. 

I could see thin clouds through the window. 

A beautiful color: a mixture of yellow flowers blooming under the pale red sun, with just a hint of verdant grass. 

I want to draw those clouds. 

With that thought in mind, I absentmindedly surrendered to the wind. 

"Hey, did you draw this?"

Eventually, the man shyly showed me a thin stack of paper and asked me. 

I draw pictures of scenery and creatures whenever I feel like it. My own world... 

I quickly snatched back the stack of papers. 

Being able to see that world makes it difficult to live in this one. Even though I was young, I knew that. 

“I apologize for looking at something so important to you without permission,'' the man said, bowing his head sheepishly. 

His bright hair swaying in the evening wind reminded me of a wheat field. 

...Ah, that's why it smells like sunlight.

I wondered why I thought so. But I thought so anyways. 

Like warm sunlight. 

The man spoke with a serious look on his face. 

"You paint a very beautiful world." 

“Like a daydream I had when I was young:  beautiful and somewhat sad, like a memory that lives on in a corner of my mind...'' 

Then he handed me a clean sketchbook and new art supplies. 

“...I want to know more about you and your world. Could you please draw more?"

“Of course, I won't force you, but... You're good at drawing, so I thought you might like it." 

The person laughs, a slight wrinkle forming at the corner of his eyes. It was the first time I made someone laugh like this. 

I wonder what that feeling was. My chest felt warm and somehow sad... 

“Oh! Why are you crying!?” 

The man dropped the art supplies in a panic,  leaving them scattered as he looked into my face. 

“Did you not like it? Or are you hurt somewhere? Your eyes will get swollen if you cry too much. We should use cold water and a cloth…”

Luka: Hey, what color are those clouds? 

"Huh…?" 

I pointed out the window, at the strangely colored clouds. The man leaned forward and put his hand on the window frame. 

“Well...it's just dusk, so I think orange is safe. No, maybe it's vermilion..."

Luka: Yellow, pale red, and bright green. 

That's how it looks to me. 

Suddenly, eyes brighter than the setting sun, He turned towards me.

Involuntarily, my shoulders trembled. But the usual, scathing words didn’t come. 

The golden eyelashes that framed his eyes blinked a few times in curiosity. 

 “… Is that so?” 

“You live in a beautiful world, don't you?" 

He laughed a little, like a child. 

I panicked, trying to think, to come up with something. 

None of the quickly changing expressions on his face were the cold ones I knew.   

The first person who didn’t deny me and my world. He said she wanted to know more, without ever calling it creepy...

(Location: ???) 

“Ah... that's right. I'll be calling you often, so If you don't mind, may I ask for your name?" 

I can see my reflection in his straight, Amber eyes. 

…Maybe I was a lost child after all. 

There was someone here who could find me.

Luka: Luka. 

What's your name······?

Luka: How nostalgic… it makes me feel a tingly in the back of my head. 

Roxy... Roxy...! Oh, thank goodness, here you are!  

It looks like you’re napping... yes, I was dreaming… a nostalgic dream. 

…Ah. I hear a voice from outside the picture book, it sounds like Aslan is calling... 

But I wonder why... I'm very sleepy… like my body is saying it doesn't want to wake up…

I… I wonder why I’m so sleepy… 

Back to event Masterlist

[yesyourstalker]

This is experimental with my dialogue. I hope it's not too confusing because it takes place in two different locations. Separate from each other

_______________________________________________

Candie: They're getting! Ahhhhhh!! Guys guys look what Neta posted!! 'We finally had the conversation and I'm happy to say that ikkan and I are formally engaged. Let hope we live a long and happy life together. Love you ikkan xoxo!!!!!' Ahhhhhh I knew it I knew it I manifested it and it worked!!!

Mizole: would you calm down... You're acting like it's your wedding

Candie: can it shrimp dick!......... Look at the ring!! Oh I'm going to cry!!!

Mahi:.... What!? Oh my god they're engaged! I didn't know that, I'm just learning this now!!.... those are nice looking rings!! I'm happy for them!

Warabi: I know right! I almost threw my coffee out of the car when I saw the post! I can't believe it! My male wife bandmate and my work husband are getting married I feel so betrayed!!...... You're a shit actor mahi

Mahi: fuck you....... So how are we doing this? Are we going to pretend like you don't know when he comes in or are we just going to congratulate him?

Candie: well he already made it public so I say we congratulate him! Mmmmm!! I'm so happy b4b is real!!

Mizole: b4b??

Mahi: bass 4 bass It was a ship name given to them when fans started to speculate that they were dating during and after squid squad

Mizole: hm.... that's stupid

Neta: morning guys! I'm assuming you guys know the big news about me

Candie: ooooo congratulations!!

Neta: oh *oof* hehehe candie!!......Thank you!

_______________________________________________

Nami: he's reengaged!...

Murasaki: yeah I saw!.... I can't believe he's actually doing this!

Ichiya: ........... That's great let's hope they actually get married this time....cod knows we don't need post break up ikkan again

Nami: awww look at the picture he posted... I've never seen ikkan smile that big before!!! Ohhh... ' we are finally making the commitment. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you' awww!

Murasaki: should we call him? Maybe we should wait for him to join the call.

Ichiya: maybe we should wait

Nami: no we're calling him..... I just sent the request.

Ikkan: hey guy..... I think I know why you're calling

All three of them: congratulations!!

Ikkan: heh thanks

_______________________________________________

Candie: sooooo tell us! How did you propose? Did you propose? Did he propose?? Uhh!! tell me! tell me right now!

_______________________________________________

Nami: so who asked who? Was it planned like a dinner and nice date? Tell us.

_______________________________________________

Neta: well... Kinda.... we had a conversation and I asked if he still wanted to get married... He said yes so the next day I proposed and he said yes... It was very private.... kinda intimate really

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: technology he proposed in the middle of the night when we were about to go to sleep.... he just asked if marriage was something I still wanted and I said yes. When we got home he did the actual proposal..... It was nice

_______________________________________________

Candie: please tell me are you guys thinking about.... spring weeding!? Oh a wedding in the fall?! what location are you thinking of getting? Oh they have this lovely little rock area in octo canyon It's such a pretty view!!

Warabi: please tell us we're going to the wedding at least

Neta:................. uhh the thing is

_______________________________________________

Murasaki: so you already doing wedding planning? I know a nice venue outside of the city surrounded by nature real pretty places.

Nami: what's the color scheme going to be? Do we have to change our ink color because I have a box of ink dye I haven't touched in years!! it's like bluish green I might use it for the wedding maybe.

Ichiya: are we at least going to be a part of it?

Ikkan:...... um

_______________________________________________

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT HAVING A WEDDING!!!

__________________________________

Neta: it just feels like too much of a hassle to do right now. I already have too much on my plate I don't need more..... We were just going to the court house to sigh some things and be on our way.

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: it just seems like a lot of unnecessary stress that we don't need at the moment

_______________________________________________

Mahi: so you're not going to have a wedding? No wedding bells? No family gathering, rice throwing and people honking and waving as speed off to your honeymoon?

_______________________________________________

Nami: you're not going to walk up and down the aisle together?? No trying on suits or- or the emotional first look of each other during the day of your wedding??

_______________________________________________

Warabi: what about a wedding cake please tell me you were planning on buying a cake at least??

Candie: netta please I know you told me that your first wedding wasn't the greatest but this could be your do over!... Just imagine! During your first dance, you're both looking at each other gazing into each other's eyes. Suddenly everyone in the room doesn't exist and it's just you two in each other's arms. Celebrating this wonderful day. That's all about you two..... I remember during my wedding-

Mahi and Warabi: You're married!!

Mizole: who the fuck wanted to marry you??

Candie: shut the fuck up All of you!!!

Mahi: this is a genuine question and please don't take it as an offense. How old are you? You look good. You look great! I'm just..... I'm just curious. I didn't know you were married

Mizole: He has to be hearing impaired to deal with that voice.

Candie: shove it!!

{arguing in the background}

Neta:........... You put it like that

_______________________________________________

Murasaki: I mean it's really really all up to you guys and you know it's what you want to do at the end of the day but I think maybe you should try to have a small ceremony maybe?.... I think it would be nice to be surrounded by loved ones celebrating your love for each other. To be there and support you. That sounds really nice

Ichiya: and y'all worked hard for this relationship I don't see the harm in celebrating just a little bit......... even broke up a band because of it

Murasaki: really

Nami: Oh my god are you serious, you're still hooked up on that!!!!

Ichiya: what am I wrong!!? Did they not?!! Out of all the people he could have fucked he had to choose our -

Nami: ichiya!! Please!

Murasaki: can you be mature for once in your life?

{argument over FaceTime}

Ikkan:....... .......Well... That does sound nice.

_______________________________________________

Neta: hey babe... Sorry for calling early in the morning

Ikkan: It's okay. I was going to call you anyway.... I was thinking about marriage stuff

Neta: yeah me too............ Maybe we can have a wedding. Something nice you know just for pictures and ..............family.

Ikkan: yeah that would be nice. I like that..... You know where camp triggerfish is. There's a venue over there...... It's an underground greenhouse they have glass on the ceiling so natural light shines in.. it's lights up the whole room naturally. It's really nice.... A lot of plants. It's really pretty.. Maybe we can look around there..

Neta: you know there's a place up near the canyon. Might have a reception over there. It's a beautiful view. We can make a day out of it. Maybe call up the wedding planner and see what we can do.

Ikkan: let's not rush it though. We have a couple years. Plenty of time to plan this out. Maybe it doesn't have to be small...... Maybe we should elope first and then have the wedding?

Neta: you want to elope just get out of the way say the vows and I do's in the courthouse and then have a wedding? We can arrange for that

Ikkan: yeah I don't see why not...mmmmm actually no I do want to wait. I want to do it at the wedding... I wanted to be real..... Ugh I have to go my old band needs are having an argument..... Where was all this tension when I was there? I love you bye

Neta: hehehe.... They didn't fight because you kept them together...... Okay, that sounds like a nice plan. We'll talk later I love you too bye .............. What are you kids screaming about? Stop you're scaring the customers!

Mizole: she started it!!

Candie: no I didn't!! You're The one who started it !!

Mizole: you're the one who's started it with your harpy screeching!

Customer: excuse me?

Candie: Mahi!! Do something!

Mahi: I mean you did threaten violence

Warabi: dude he clearly started it!

Customer: excuse me?

Mahi: what! I'm just defineding my boyfriend!

Warabi: there's nothing too defined he's an asshole!

Mizole: don't you have a toilet to clean Richie Rich

Neta: ok if this keeps up he's banned or worse!! *Knuckle crack*

Mahi: Neta what the fuck!? I can't fight people but you can!!

Candie: kick his ass!

Mizole: cod your voice is grading!......watch yourself old man don't want your blood sugar to rise you're a diabetic!

Neta: oh just try me you little troll!

Mizole: bet old man!

Customer: excuse me!

Every one: WHAT?!

Customer: you got Baribari merch

Neta:............ No we don't have Baribari merch! If we didn't have it yesterday why the hell would we have it today?!

Warabi: who the fuck even listens to that shit!

Mizole: no one they're terrible! What is wrong with you!!

Candie: you come in here every day and don't buy anything!

Mahi: you come in to this store don't buy shit you have a terrible taste in music and you smell like dish water!! Get the fuck out!! Honestly!

Warabi: thank you!!

Candie: please leave....

Mizole: could you believe that guy. Real asshole

Neta: right?!... Fucking hell....

Mahi was last spotted leaving @fish-at-fish-fish-resort 's house

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA-

Okay it took a while to get everything uploaded but here it is:

(This is regarding my trip to a local botanic garden)

https://imgur.com/a/hkSkK9F

This is just some of the Shakespeare garden- I cannot emphasize enough how huge this place is with so many different plants; this is probably a football field of plants for this section alone, but the entire estate is many acres, it’s absurd.

(Off the top of my head, they’ve got a huge conservatory, Japanese, Chinese, Australian, native plant, children’s, ranch-style, South African, and many more gardens, most of which are much, much larger than the one I saw)

Unfortunately the conservatory was closed but I’m going on a tour of it later this year so I’ll send pics then too if you’d like greenhouse inspo. They have a vanilla orchid there that’s hundreds of feet long and very, very old.

This place used to be a person’s estate which is fucking insane. It’s also an art and library historical preservation thingy. They have multiple themed art museums and libraries on the estate. It’s really cool but also weird to think that this used to all belong to one person.

The statues were all titled in their Roman forms btw, idk if that was like an artistic choice or something they preferred or symbolic for the time period or what, but I found that interesting.

No statues of Aphrodite/Venus unfortunately, but there was one of Diana, who I feel like would be clover’s hero lol.

Also it was very sunny and crowded, so if there’s people in the pics or the lighting is off, sorry about that.

There’s also a tea room (fun fact the property has a Japanese and an English tea room. They also put on regency events and stuff that are very hard to get a ticket to) but that’s not open to the public most of the time (neither are the libraries without special permission, which sucks).

There are a lot of benches and stuff so I kept thinking of clover’s reading area or Ben’s art area in there that would be really cool.

Anyway it was super pretty because it’s spring here and everything was blooming. So we’re the Japanese cherry blossoms, but they’re quite far from where I was and it was super hot and crowded, so I’m saving that for next time.

It’s unbelievably gorgeous, but I think the inner socialist within me has a lot of mixed feelings on these sorts of private or semi-private collections in modern days lol, and the fact that I’m so annoyed about it probably means I need to eat, so brb and enjoy I guess, lol.

CMA MY LOVE!

Omg I cannot thank you enough for this, it is such a wonderful inspo! ❤️ Like, I'm so going to use these to get inspiration for the next chapters and aaaaaa-

IT IS GORGEOUS! I need to visit this place😍

I WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE GREENHOUSE INSPO OMG YES, PLEASE YES?! ❤️❤️

There are a lot of benches and stuff so I kept thinking of clover’s reading area or Ben’s art area in there that would be really cool.

I am screaming here, you're so amazing! ❤️ It means so much to me to hear this🥰

Diana would totally be Clover's favorite 🥰

I can't stop looking at these beautiful pictures! 😍 I am totally hypnotized! ❤️❤️❤️

[sunset-a-story]

Character Interview Tag

Thank you to @vsnotresponding for tagging me in this one! I had a hard time deciding who to use so I just grabbed the whole core group. Open tagging whoever is interested and no-pressure tagging @words-after-midnight @moondust-bard and @inkspellangel

1. Are you named after anyone?

Reeve: I was named by the SolCorp algorithm.

Alex: I don't really know why she named me Joey.

Hannah: Uh, no.

Gareth: After someone in my dad's family.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Reeve: I'm not sure. (looks hella uncomfortable)

Alex: (shrugs) Probably the last time I had a really bad Reading night and couldn't get my psychometry to stop to let me sleep

Hannah: Rum!

Gareth: Last week.

3. Do you have any kids?

Reeve: (eyebrow lift) No. (frown) Although, they do bank our DNA for the Venus gen lab...

Alex: (laughing)

Hannah: Got sterilized, baby!

Gareth: Not to my knowledge. In a different life, I would have liked to.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Reeve: Is there any other way to survive these people?

Alex: (putting his hand to his chest) Never! Sarcasm? I wouldn't dream of it!

Hannah: Oh, constantly.

Gareth: Is there any other way to survive Reeve?

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Reeve: Hard to say what is first. I try to take in the whole picture pretty quickly so I can form an opinion before I start getting telepathic feedback to compare.

Alex: Posture. And eyes.

Hannah: Their energy and just how they feel.

Gareth: I don't know. How they move. Are they relaxed, tense, threatening?

6. What’s your eye color?

Reeve: Blue-grey

Alex: Dark brown

Hannah: Brown

Gareth: Brown

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Reeve: Happy endings.

Alex: I don't think you've got to pick. Just watch several movies.

Hannah: Gahhhh probably scary. Yes, I know I'm an empath. Don't judge me.

Gareth: Happy endings.

8. Any special talents?

Reeve: Besides telepathy? I'm organized. I like to think I can cook.

Alex: Psychometry and knowing where everyone's buttons are.

Hannah: I'm pretty nimble. You've gotta be when you go invisible. I used to kick ass at DDR.

Gareth: I think I can read people pretty well.

9. Where were you born?

Reeve: They call it "achieving breathe" in Sol and I was gen'ed out of LAHQ.

Alex: SolCorp, apparently.

Hannah: LAHQ.

Gareth: (side-eyeing the rest) Fresno, CA.

10. What are your hobbies?

Reeve: I don't really have time. Working on my car when I can.

Alex: Dancing, video games, sparring's fun.

Hannah: Drinking, dancing, video games.

Gareth: I like going for long drives. Working out. Reading.

11. Have you any pets?

Reeve: No.

Alex: Man, I wish. Reeve won't let us get a dog.

Hannah: Have I any pets? (adopts hoity-toity voice) Nooo, I have no pets. Wouldst butlers count? Because then also nooo.

Gareth: (narrowing eyes at Hannah) Nope.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

Reeve: I guess whatever games they made us play in Academy. Not really my thing.

Alex: Didn't exactly live that soccer practice and PTA life so...

Hannah: Field hockey in high school.

Gareth: I was pretty heavy into Taekwondo before I left home.

13. How tall are you?

Reeve: 5'9" (he's 5'8")

Alex: 5'5"

Hannah: 5'7"

Gareth: 5'11"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Reeve: Tactics.

Alex: None.

Hannah: Math's actually kinda neat. Also, my medic training.

Gareth: Lit.

15. Dream job?

Reeve: I used to say Saturn agent, but I'm happy where I am.

Alex: I don't know. I don't really have any sort of strong calling to anything yet. I guess, I'd just want to join Reeve's team and do what they do so I could stay with him and Hannah and Gareth.

Hannah: Maybe park ranger? That sounds pretty chill. You're out in the wilderness, protecting nature, and occasionally get to yell at people for fucking up.

Gareth: Something quiet. It doesn't have to be fancy or particularly meaningful or anything.