#This was such an interesting dive through memory lane for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 7 months ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Merry Christmas, my friend!! ❤️💚 First of all, I'm so honored that 'Twas the Night gave you some inspiration! 🥹 I'm excited to dive into this special Christmas edition of Take a Chance.

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Of course he's having a hard time choosing a proper Christmas gift for her, because when was the last time he gave someone a gift because he genuinely loved them? I feel like Countess wouldn't be a good example lol. So what's going to be a reflection of the relationship he has now? Especially because she's not one for flashiness, or more materialistic gifts.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

Yup. 😂😂

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-" "It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Okay, Ben. You do you. 🤣🤣

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background. And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben. But you liked annoying him.

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding, and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late. He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him.

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you, that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life, you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry. Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do! And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.”

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly. "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question.

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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ecautoenterprisesllc · 8 months ago

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Best Family Destinations Near Sayre OK How Renting a Car Enhances Your Journey

Ahoy there, family adventurers! If you're lookin' for some fun-tastic destinations near Sayre, Oklahoma, you've come to the right place. Sayre might be a small town but it's surrounded by a whole bunch of awesome spots that are perfect for family fun. And guess what? Having your own set of wheels makes exploring these places a whole lot easier. So, why not grab a car rental near me and hit the road for some family shenanigans? Don't forget that even though you're in Sayre you can snag a sweet Toyota Tacoma 2015 at car rental in Elk City OK without a hassle.

Family Fun on Wheels Why Renting a Car Rocks

Okay, let's dive into why renting a car can seriously amp up your family adventures near Sayre:

Freedom and Flexibility: With your own ride, you're the captain of your family's adventure ship. You can go where you want when you want without relying on public transportation or ridesharing schedules. That means more time for fun and less time waiting around.

Comfort and Convenience: Pack all the snacks, games, and gear you need without worrying about lugging it all around on buses or trains. Plus, you can blast your favorite road trip tunes and have impromptu dance parties in the car. Who needs a disco when you have a rental car?

Explore at Your Own Pace: No need to rush through attractions or activities. Take your time and let everyone enjoy each destination at their own speed. You can even make spontaneous detours if you spot something interesting along the way. Adventure awaits!

Stress-Free Travel: Traveling with kids can be, well, let's just say "interesting." Having your own car gives you a little sanctuary on the road. You can take breaks when needed, avoid meltdowns, and keep everyone happy and comfy.

Cost-Effective: Renting a car can actually save you money, especially if you're traveling with a larger family. Splitting the cost of a rental often works out cheaper than buying multiple bus or train tickets. Plus, you can pack your own lunches and snacks which means more money for souvenirs and fun activities.

Safety First: Having your own car gives you a sense of security and control, especially when traveling with little ones. You can ensure everyone is properly buckled up and travel at a safe and comfortable speed.

Awesome Family Destinations Near Sayre

Alright, now that you're convinced that renting a car is the way to go, let's check out some awesome family destinations near Sayre:

Foss State Park: This place is a nature lover's paradise! Go swimming, boating, fishing, or hiking. Kids will love exploring the trails and spotting wildlife. Don't forget your camera for some epic family photos with stunning scenery.

Alabaster Caverns State Park: Get ready for an underground adventure! Explore a massive gypsum cave that's over a mile long. Take a guided tour and learn about the cave's fascinating history and geology. Kids will be amazed by the stalactites, stalagmites, and creepy crawlies.

Black Kettle National Grassland: Experience the beauty of the Oklahoma prairie. Go hiking, biking, or horseback riding through the rolling hills. Keep your eyes peeled for deer, coyotes, and prairie dogs. It's like stepping into a real-life Western movie!

Route 66 Museum: Take a nostalgic trip down memory lane at the Route 66 Museum in Elk City. Learn about the history of this iconic highway and its impact on American culture. Kids will love the vintage cars and retro exhibits.

Oklahoma City Zoo: Okay, this one's a bit of a drive but totally worth it. The Oklahoma City Zoo is home to a huge variety of animals from around the world. Spend the day exploring the different exhibits and learning about amazing creatures. It's a roaring good time!

Why Choose EC Auto for Your Family Adventure?

EC Auto Enterprises LLC is your perfect partner for family fun in and around Sayre. Here's why we're the best choice for your rental car needs:

Family-Friendly Service: We're a family-owned business and we understand the needs of families. We'll help you choose the perfect vehicle for your crew and make sure you have everything you need for a safe and enjoyable trip.

Clean and Safe Cars: We take pride in maintaining a clean and well-maintained fleet like Toyota. Our cars are regularly inspected and cleaned to ensure your family's safety and comfort. We want you to have a worry-free adventure.

Affordable Options: We offer competitive rates on our rentals so you can save your hard-earned money for fun family activities. We believe that family adventures shouldn't break the bank.

Flexible Rentals: Whether you need a car for a day, a week, or even longer, we offer flexible rental terms to fit your family's needs. We're here to make your trip as easy and enjoyable as possible.

Community-Minded: We're actively involved in the Elk City community and we're passionate about supporting local families. When you choose EC Auto, you're supporting a business that cares about its community.

Easy Booking: Reserving your rental car is a breeze. You can book online or give us a call. We're always happy to answer your questions and help you plan your family adventure.

FAQs About Family Car Rentals

Q: Do you offer car seats or booster seats for rent?

A: While we don't currently offer car seats or booster seats for rent, we recommend bringing your own to ensure proper fit and safety for your little ones. We're happy to help you install them correctly in your rental car.

Q: What happens if my rental car breaks down during my trip?

A: Don't worry! We offer 24/7 roadside assistance with all our rentals. Just give us a call and we'll send help your way. We want to make sure your family adventure stays on track.

Q: Can I add an additional driver to my rental agreement?

A: Absolutely! You can add another driver to your rental agreement for a small fee. This can be helpful if you're planning a longer trip and want to share the driving responsibilities.

Q: What are your mileage restrictions for rentals?

A: We offer a variety of mileage options to fit your travel plans. Some rentals come with unlimited mileage while others have daily or weekly limits. We'll discuss your needs and help you choose the best option for your family adventure.

Q: Do you offer any discounts for families?

A: We often have special offers and promotions available, so be sure to check our website or give us a call. We love helping families create lasting memories and we want to make your trip as affordable as possible.

Q: What if I need to change my rental car reservation?

A: No problem! We understand that plans can change, especially when you're traveling with a family. Just give us a call and we'll do our best to accommodate your needs. We're here to make your trip as stress-free as possible.

Get Ready for Family Fun in Sayre!

Sayre and its surrounding areas offer a treasure trove of family-friendly destinations. With a reliable and comfortable rental car from EC Auto Enterprises LLC, you can explore these amazing places at your own pace and create memories that will last a lifetime. So, gather your crew, pack your bags, and get ready for an unforgettable family adventure!

Contact Details:

EC Auto Enterprises LLC

Address: 315 W 20th St Unit C, Elk City, OK 73644, United States

Phone: +1 (580) 706-6612

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dilawarmughal980 · 1 year ago

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Matt Rife Relationships:Surprising Journey to Jessica Lord

Have you ever wondered about the ups and downs of Matt Rife Relationships? Buckle up because we're diving deep into the comedian's relationship rollercoaster, from his early crushes to his current flame, Jessica Lord. Get ready for some juicy details, heartwarming moments, and maybe even a few surprises!

Matt Rife's Early Love Life: The Awkward Years

Let's kick things off with a trip down memory lane. Like many of us, Matt's first forays into romance were, well, let's say, interesting. Growing up in Ohio, young Matt was your typical class clown, using humor to mask his insecurities and catch the attention of his crushes. But did you know he once asked a girl out by leaving a note in her locker... only to realize he'd put it in the wrong one? Talk about a comedy of errors!

The Kate Beckinsale Chapter

We can only talk about Matt's love life by mentioning his high-profile relationship with Kate Beckinsale. In 2017, a then 21-year-old Matt made headlines when he started dating the stunning actress, who was 43 then. The age gap raised some eyebrows, but these two hit it off like a house on fire.

Their whirlwind romance lasted about a year, and while it ultimately didn't work out, it certainly put Matt on the map in terms of celebrity relationships. He's always spoken fondly of Kate, praising her intelligence and sense of humor. It shows that sometimes, age is just a number!

Post-Beckinsale: Finding Himself

After his split from Kate, Matt took some time to focus on himself and his career. He's joked in interviews that this period was less about dating and more about "collecting material for future shows." But jokes aside, this was a crucial time for Matt to figure out what he wanted in a partner.

During this period, Matt's career started to take off. He became a regular on MTV's "Wild 'N Out" and his stand-up specials were gaining traction. As his star rose, so did the attention from potential romantic interests. But our boy Matt wasn't about to jump into anything serious without careful consideration.

Enter Jessica Lord: A Match Made in Hollywood Heaven

Now, drum roll, please... let's talk about the current leading lady in Matt's life, Jessica Lord! This Canadian actress and dancer caught Matt's eye sometime in early 2023, and folks, it looks like Cupid's arrow hit its mark this time.

Jessica, known for her roles in "Find Me in Paris" and "Zoe Valentine," seems to be the perfect match for Matt. They both have a background in entertainment, share a wicked sense of humor, and aren't afraid to be goofy together on social media. Have you seen their TikTok duets? Absolute relationship goals!

The couple made their relationship Instagram official in August 2023, and since then, they've been serving up some serious #couplegoals content. From red-carpet appearances to cozy date nights, these two aren't shy about showing their affection for each other.

FAQs About Matt Rife's Relationships

How many serious relationships have Matt Rife had?

While Matt keeps some aspects of his personal life private, we know of at least two serious relationships: Kate Beckinsale and his current girlfriend, Jessica Lord.

What's the age difference between Matt Rife and Jessica Lord?

Matt was born in 1995, while Jessica was born in 1998, making them only about 3 years apart.

How did Matt and Jessica meet?

The exact details of their first meeting aren't public, but it's believed they met through mutual friends in the entertainment industry.

Does Matt Rife talk about his relationships in his comedy?

Yes, Matt often incorporates his dating experiences into his stand-up routines, but he's always respectful and doesn't name names.

Conclusion About Matt Rife Relationships

From small-town Ohio to the bright lights of Hollywood, Matt Rife's journey in love and life has been nothing short of extraordinary. His dating history reads like a rom-com script – complete with an age-gap romance, rumored flings, and now, a seemingly perfect match Read More

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nitrosodiumrapidproto · 1 year ago

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Looking at Endless Runners

I've played a good few endless runners in my time. I've found them a good way to kill time, and sometimes I play them while listening to long videos. Not only that, but I find the velocity your character builds up to be quite visually satisfying.

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As far as I know, Temple Run is the first endless runner. You play as an Indiana Jones-like character, being pursued by ill-tempered gorillas through some sort of ancient temple. You have to jump over and slide under obstacles, but also turn corners, while collecting coins and avoiding pitfalls and fire-spewing traps. Though it is memorable, it's not the best game. I do appreciate the Mesoamerican aesthetic, but graphically the game looks jagged and bland for 2011. Combined with the distance fog, it looks like Morrowind. The gorillas are especially bad-looking, and while the game suggests that they'll be antagonists, you don't see them after the opening cutscene. The setting is probably the most unique aspect, since its mechanics became pretty standard in endless runners (and many games do them better).

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Subway Surfers is probably the most famous endless runner. You play as a troublemaking kid running through a subway system. The environment is a lot more boxed-in than Temple Runner; you have to avoid train cars and the usual assortment of obstacles to duck and dive around. Your pursuer also plays a more active role this time - if you hit a train car side-on, you'll be chased by a round-bellied policeman named "Guard" and his sniffer dog. If you mess up again while Guard is on screen, you'll be caught. The aesthetic of this game is also far more stylised and cartoony, with bright colours and an unrealistic look to most objects. I would say this is the main selling point for Subway Surfers, and also that is is a refinement of the three-lane runner system that still hasn't been beaten really.

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Yeti Sensation was a game I played as a child, during my extensive yeti phase. You play as a yeti, and you need to collect berries, while not being captured - there are cages, beartraps, and cameras that you must avoid. The game has a variety of environments, which is quite unique for an endless runner. You go through the forest, the satellite station, the town, and the mine. Some areas have unique environmental hazards, like rolling snowballs that you must use bouncepads to jump over. Gameplay-wise, it's not too interesting, and the Yeti feels a bit rigid to control. The unique selling point is probably the atmosphere of the levels and the yeti theme.

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Run 3 was one of the most popular games to play on school computers back in the day. Its unique selling point is its gravity mechanics - moving left or right allows the player to run along the walls, essentially swiveling them around the tunnel. The game then uses this in conjunction with fragile tiles, ice tiles that speed the player up, 'low power zones' with flickering lights, and friction-inducing conveyor belts to name a few. The level geometry, while simple, is also very well done, with the tunnels shifting from a square shape to an octagonal one without any sort of loading screen. You can even change characters - the Skater can go extremely quick, while the Lizard is slow but can jump high. Every level becomes like a puzzle, testing your reflexes but also your intuition with deciding which character would be best for what encounter.

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Some of my most cherished memories include me playing this game on my dad's tablet. Doomwheel takes place in the Warhammer universe, and has you play as a Skaven (rat-man) piloting a wheeled death machine in order to rise through the Skaven ranks. It is quite different to most endless runners - your Doomwheel appears from a side perspective, and instead of avoiding enemies, you need to plough through them. You have two jumps, which you need to time to avoid guillotines, chasms, cliffs, and occasionally flame-belching armored enemies which you can't kill by driving at them head-on. The gameplay loop is far more complex - there is a world map with different regions, a visual novel-esque story element with political intrigue between the Skaven characters, and a workshop system where you can add setting-appropriate upgrades to your Wheel, like a Rat Ogre who pumps the bellows to make your vehicle go faster, or Warp-lighting coils to zap nearby enemies. The unique selling point would be the Warhammer branding.

SUMMARY:

I would say that all endless runners are similar in that they require reflexes and timing to play effectively; the player will continuously get faster, which makes avoiding obstacles more difficult until the player inevitably fails, at which point they try again, become better at the game, and beat their record. This basic gameplay loop is then interspersed with buying upgrades - see Doomwheel, which lets you pimp out your rodentine roller, and Yeti Sensation, which has you spending berries on armour like football helmets and boots. This then leads to a second gameplay loop moving alongside the first, grinding levels to get enough arbitrary points that you can upgrade yourself, and go further. Most endless runners also have the camera behind the character, therefore giving them a good 3D view of obstacles in their path. Doomwheel is unique in this regard, but given that it only has one 'lane' while many others use a three-lane system, it doesn't need the player to know where they are horizontally.

I would say that one thing that doesn't work too well in endless runners is the corner-turning that Temple Run has. The benefit of the behind-head camera view is that the player can see oncoming obstacles, but suddenly turning a sharp corner means they have no sight of what is coming up ahead of them. It seems other game devs took note of this, and it is why none of the other games in my list use the mechanic.

#gamedev #devlog #game development #coding #game dev #nitrosodium #Youtube

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forensicated · 1 year ago

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In an effort to rid my brain of replaying the Solar System song that my nephew has been singing to me all weekend, (All. Weekend.) I've started a deeper dive into the Gina/Jonathan relationship! Some of these will be links back to previous recaps.

A round up of that time just before Jonathan arrives: Episode 202 to 208 and Episode 209.

Smithy has a drunken one night stand with Kerry whilst in a relationship with Cameron. Her guilt leads Gabriel to manipulate her into believing it was rape. Smithy is the senior officer at an armed robbery with Cameron. Instead of doing his job, Cameron confronts Smithy about the rumour and continues to make the situation a thousand times harder repeatedly. Cameron later distracts Kerry at the worst possible moment when trying to keep a man with a bomb strapped to his chest calm and still. The bomb explodes. Cameron lies about what happened when they return to the station and outs the rape rumour to the CID officers who are investigating. Gabriel continues to stir and manipulate the situation and rumour.

Gina is told of the rumour by Sam and refuses to believe it. She worries when she can't get hold of Smithy and tracks him down to the roof where they have a heart to heart. Smithy admits they were drunk and it wasn't pretty but he never forced her into anything she didn't want to do. He wants to make a statement but Gina tells him it's not an official accusation yet. She sends him home after he's spoken to CID, citing the reason being the aftermath of the robbery. She tries to press Kerry into making it official or issuing an official denial so she and Smithy can deal with it. Unfortunately undercover journalist Andrea made it public knowledge by telling her boss who went on to write an article about it in the local paper.

Ginathon Episodes: Episode 210

Gina asks Kerry if she knows or suspects who told the paper about her allegation. She insists she doesn't know as it's likely "someone completely messed up in the head." Ah. Gabriel. Gina presses Kerry to decide if she's going to make it official and sends her home to think.

Gina speaks to Yvonne about the article. She strongly suspects Gabriel "because he likes to mix things up." Gabriel suspects Andrea, not least because she was shocked that Kerry hadn't made it official like she thought she had when she told her Editor. Gabriel growls at Andrea about how it's a shame if Kerry decided NOT to make things official because of the article but Gina stops him from questioning Andrea further by sending him out to patrol the Coal Lane Estate.

Yvonne tells Gina the new station CPS lawyer is in reception. Gina says he's a week early but Jonathan is adamant he was due to start that day. Both Gina and Jonathan recognise each other, "Your cross examination gave me nightmares for months!" Gina smiles, with Jonathan agreeing it was an interesting encounter. "If my memory serves me correctly, you were the nightmare! That was quite a fight you put up in the witness box!" "Nevertheless, you broke me down in the end. No wonder you never lose." Gina smiles and looks around. "Where is he?" "Who?" Gina lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Our new CPS Duty Prosecutor. A headache I could really do without." "Why do you say that?" "My officers are trained to make judgement calls, they don't need nannying." "Ah, I'm glad to hear it." Jonathan says cryptically. "So what are you doing here?" "... I'm here to give you a headache. I'm the new CPS lawyer. Don't be embarrassed, it's good to hear your thoughts." "Who's embarrassed? I don't believe in hiding my feelings, Mr Fox! I'll get someone to show you to your lovely new office..." She says, exiting quickly through the door!

Jonathan corners Gina to ask her about a problem with his office...

"Well I know your stuff was delivered!" She sighs. "Having a bad day?!" Jonathan asks. "My day is just fine!" "Yeah," Jonathan laughs. "Let's see, you insult the CPS initiative to my face and then somehow lose my furniture. It's not going great is it?" "I know your furniture was delivered! I'll try and chase up the person who was meant to be installing it!" "Meantime I'll just sit on the floor and whistle?" Gina sighs. "Well we can set you up in the canteen for now, I'm sure we can sort a telephone for you." "I can serve the vegetables whilst I'm there at the same time." He scoffs. "I mean, you don't need me here!" "Well I can put you in a little corner, out of the way!" "You're not exactly embracing the Crown Prosecution Service, are you Inspector?"

Debbie uses her lunch break to talk to Jonathan about one of her cases and is taken with the older man. "Sorry to disappoint you." he says after informing her she doesn't have enough evidence. "We'll see about that..." she muses, looking him over.

Gina asks undercover journalist Andrea if she's aware of anyone speaking to the police or acting suspiciously. Andrea says no but is nervous. Gina asks if she's OK and Andrea asks what will happen now. Gina tells her she needs to speak to Tony and Gabriel about it. Andrea tells her she hasn't been honest. She saw a reporter hassling everyone and that Gabriel was the only one she saw speak to him.

Jonathan's office is finally being put together and he supervises whilst being moaned at by Gabriel who wants Jonathan to bend the rules to prosecute a known bully on the Coal Lane Estate. Jonathan tells him he only has enough evidence for a criminal damage charge and that he should submit the papers in the normal way. Gina takes the opportunity to call Gabriel into her office for a 'little chat'.

Gina tells Gabriel she's posting him indefinitely to the Coal Lane Estate. Gabriel asks if this is the result of her informal investigation about the article. Gina tells him she doesn't like whispering in corners and he insists it wasn't him but 'don't let a little something like evidence get in the way." Gina simply smiles. "If I had evidence you'd be out that door like a shot. Let's just say that your name has cropped up quite a few times today." He insists he knows who the real culprit is and he'll find the evidence to prove it.

Jonathan looks in at Gina, causing her to try and hide her cigarillo. He thanks her for sorting out the office and she just nods. Jonathan closes the door behind him and tells her about Gabriel venting his frustrations of the CPS's restrictions. "That's quite some chip he's got." She says she'll have a word and asks if it's all. "... You flout the smoking regs, huh?" he says after a pause and then sits to join her, showing his own packet. "Make yourself at home..." she murmurs, as each take a glance at the other when they think they're not looking.

Gina and Jonathan have a little chat as they smoke with Jonathan admitting his work as a defence barrister meant a lot of bad people ended up walking. "You start not to like yourself after a bit." "Some of them must have been innocent?" Jonathan gives a sad scoff. "Not my clients. They were in court for good reasons. Luckily they could afford to have me in their corner." "Don't you miss the buzz?" Jonathan just smiles and looks to Gina's framed boxing pictures. "You a fan?" "Does the Pope pray?" Jonathan looks thoughtful. "I used to box. See, winning a fight, that's a pure buzz. When Ali danced it wasn't to please the crowd it was to put his man down. Courts all about pleasing the crowd." Gina smiles thoughtfully and watches Jonathan for a few seconds. "I've been saying to myself it couldn't be you but it is, isn't it?" "What?" "I saw you boxing for the Smith trophy. When was it..?" "71. You really follow the fights?" "Since I was so high, my dad used to run a ringside tote in Burr. You have had an odd career path haven't you..." she murmurs,

On the way out, Jonathan says goodnight to Gina and Debbie isn't too far behind. "Not bad..." Debbie muses to Gina. Gina flails, not wanting to anyone to realise she does actually agree! "... Bit full of himself actually!!!!" she covers.

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linuxgamenews · 2 years ago

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Forgotten Mines making you think about each step

Forgotten Mines a gripping new tactical RPG game for coming to Linux with Mac and Windows PC. Thanks to Cannibal Goose for their relentless hard work. Due to make its way onto Steam in 2024. Let's dive deep into what the brilliant minds of Brazilian studio Cannibal Goose and Ishtar Games. Forgotten Mines is something that's been getting the attention of the gaming community.

Forgotten Mines will be released next year and will also be released for Linux.

Having just received an email response from Cannibal Goose. A solo developer specializing in crafting turn-based games that blend RPG elements with tactical and roguelike features. They're using Godot for development, which is positive news for Linux gamers. First off, Forgotten Mines drops players into ancient mines, long abandoned and now infested with dark creatures. Such as goblins, orcs, skeletons, and much more. These mines were once the pride and glory of the dwarves, but now? They’re a haunting reminder of what was lost.

Forgotten Mines - Announcement Trailer

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But here's where it gets interesting: this is not just about hacking and slashing your way through. You have to plan. It’s like stepping onto a chessboard where every move counts. Rooms change and adapt every time you enter, making you strategize each step. You’ve got a set number of turns to make the most out of every situation. It’s unpredictable, but that's what makes it so gripping. The flexibility here? There are a ton of classes to pick from, and you also have solid gear. In Forgotten Mines, you can truly make a character that fits your style. And let me tell you, when you stumble upon some of that rare or legendary items, it feels like you’ve struck gold, literally and figuratively. Combining these can open up some incredible moves and tactics to take on the bigger enemies. Now, for those who appreciate the classics: the visuals. They’ve got this nostalgic feel, reminding me of the days when I first go into gaming. Forgotten Mines a trip down memory lane but with a fresh twist that keeps you hooked. But, just a heads-up, you'll need a bit of patience. Forgotten Mines isn’t out just yet. However, if you're already intrigued, you might want to keep an eye on Steam and make sure this title is on your Wishlist. In a nutshell, Forgotten Mines is a thrilling blend of tactics and unpredictability. Every step is a test of your strategy and wit, and for those who revel in the thrill of the challenge. May the odds be ever in your favour in those mines. And its all due to make its way onto Linux with Mac and Windows PC.

#forgotten mines #tactical rpg #linux #gaming news #cannibal goose #ubuntu #mac #windows #pc #godot #Youtube

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isabelahqs · 1 year ago

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totally agree! ted lasso just radiates positivity—it’s infectious. and i’m with you on the star wars love; there’s something magical about diving back into that universe, whether it’s through the main saga or the spin-off series. obi-wan kenobi is such an iconic character, and i can’t wait to see ewan mcgregor reprise the role in the upcoming series. and yeah, revisiting the oc sounds like a fun trip down memory lane! it’s always interesting to see how those shows hold up over time. let me know if you end up binge-watching it—i might just have to join you for a nostalgia fest.

Oh, for sure, I’m fine with it as long as the audiences are happy with it and they’re giving the people what they want. It’s hard not to love Ted Lasso, I feel like you’d need to be lacking a soul not to like what they’re putting out there, I badly want to shake his hand and thank him for bringing such a sweet man to life. I’m all about Star Wars nostalgia, obviously, and I love all of the series that have been an extension of the main ‘verse! I think Obi-Wan Kenobi might be my favorite of them but I so love Mando. Wow, I haven’t thought about the OC in a long time and now I feel like I need to revisit it!

#* . 　 ✧ . ˚ ━━ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 · INTERACTIONS.

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thesweetnessofspring · 2 years ago

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Kiss Cam

In honor of Katniss's birthday, here's an Everlark fic I've had bouncing around my head for a few weeks. Modern AU; fluff; rated G

“I don’t know if I want to go anymore,” Katniss says from the passenger seat of Peeta’s car. But they’re already a half mile from the stadium, stuck in the traffic with everyone else going to the game. She fiddles with the vent to blow the cool air directly into her face, something to calm her.

“Come on, these seats are right behind home base!” Peeta says.

“I know, but I can’t stand baseball anymore.”

“You shouldn’t let him take something you love from you.” Peeta waves a car through to merge into the narrowing lanes.

“It’s just a game.”

“Not just a game. The game,” Peeta says. “Consider this a bit of exposure therapy.”

“You promise to get me as many nachos as I want?” Katniss asks.

“And peanuts and cracker jacks.”

The Mockingjay’s stadium came into full view then, no longer blocked by surrounding buildings. Katniss hates that Gale has soured baseball for her, the game her father had introduced to her, the memories she has of catching a fly ball and getting it signed by Haymitch Abernathy, of summer nights spent in the yard perfecting her throw and her swing. And the only way she could cope after her father’s death was by giving her all on the field with her teammates.

That’s where she’d met Gale, on the varsity baseball team at Lakeside High School. She had been the only freshman to make the varsity team that year and he was one of two sophomores. Together, they became an unstoppable pitcher/catcher duo. Katniss knew Gale’s every move, could read his decisions like they were her own thoughts.

She thought it would always be like that.

“I talked them into putting on extra jalapenos.” Peeta hands Katniss her first round of nachos as she sits down following the national anthem.

Katniss takes the food from Peeta and dives in. There was nothing better in her mind than this–salty, creamy, spicy, with some crunch to top it off. She hums with approval at her first bite and smacks her lips to lick up the gooey cheese. When Katniss looks up to offer some to Peeta, she notices his eyes on her mouth–just briefly, but it sends a warm rush down her body.

She startles at the feeling and focuses instead on the players taking the field, getting a sense for the lineup. But Peeta reaches over to take a chip teetering with orange cheese and that flustering feeling comes back at the proximity, his shoulder bumping into hers.

Of course when he looked at her mouth, he was probably just noting how she was eating–he’d often teased her before about how ravenously she ate. That certainly made more sense than what had flitted across Katniss’s mind. Peeta was, after all…Peeta.

He moved into town their sophomore year of high school and immediately became popular. He played football, wrestling, and of course, baseball. This is where Katniss got to know him, an outfielder far away from where she was at home plate. Still, his arm was reliable in throwing the ball far, all the way to where she would catch the ball and get the out. She and Gale had already been dating for a year, but they’d never been that couple that excluded others. While Peeta socialized with anyone, he always prioritized the group Katniss had acquired (Gale, Darius, and Madge), and usually brought along the girl he was seeing at the time. None of them ever lasted too long.

Katniss had never been able to figure out why exactly Peeta had never been able to date anyone longer than two months. Sure, in high school that felt like forever, but when they moved onto college, it got stranger that of all the girls interested in Peeta, none of them seemed to stick around for longer than a couple months. So strange when Peeta had been the most loyal friend Katniss had ever had–or maybe she felt that way because while everyone else went away from their hometown for school, Peeta had stuck around just like Katniss, attending community college and then the local university.

That was the first big fight Katniss and Gale had gotten into. Gale received a scholarship to play baseball in a city four hours away. He wanted Katniss to come with him the next year, but she couldn’t leave her family. Her mom had to work overnights at the hospital and sleep during the day. She wasn’t going to leave Prim. Gale pointed out how he was leaving his family, too, and that they had to look at the future. The school he got the scholarship for was better than the small state school that didn’t boast any major sports teams. Better opportunities, better future. Katniss had stuck to her decision, though. She couldn’t leave Prim.

Long-distance had sucked, but Gale had seen her through some of the hardest years of her life and Katniss was never one to abandon someone she loved.

She should have just broken up with him then.

The Mockingjays versus the Mutts, their rival team. Katniss had to keep it together not to hiss when the first batter went up to the plate.

She wouldn't admit it to Peeta, but it was nice to get back into baseball again and she feels glad he pulled her out to the game today. Just watching it on TV hadn't been enough to remind her of how much she loved it. She needs the sun, the spring air, the cheers of the crowd and the kick of the nachos to bring back to life she'd once been so passionate about.

Then the first inning ends, and the jumbotron focuses in on a man and woman with a heart around them and in bold letters the instructions: GIVE YOUR SWEETHEART A KISS!

"Ugh," Katniss says when she sees it. "I hate kiss cams."

Peeta grins. "All right. Let's hear it."

"It's totally rude," Katniss says. "It puts people on the spot. Some people hate PDA. Some people are just friends, or they're siblings. And it's totally heteronormative! It pressures the kiss out of the people they feature and comes out of the blue so they're unprepared."

"Those are good points," he says. "After all, we're here together. And we're not dating."

"Exactly," Katniss says, though she wonders why her heart is squeezing in her chest so much hearing him say it.

"Though...we are both single," he says. The way he's talking, so measured and considering, makes her focus in on his words, connecting her gray eyes to his blue. "So if the kiss cam lands on us, you can kiss me if you feel like it."

She feels the blood rush to her cheeks and she doesn't know how to respond except to giggle, the thought of kissing him sending a strange flutter through her body.

"What?" Peeta asks. "That bad?"

"No," Katniss says. "No, I...I guess I'll allow it. On the cheek, of course."

"Of course," he says.

The next inning gets started and Katniss adjusts her hat to cover her face a bit more while her heart pounds in her chest. Why was the idea of kissing Peeta having such an effect on her? They were friends, had been friends for years. He'd been her best friend since the break-up eight months ago for sure. She shouldn't be having these feelings for him.

But as they talk and cheer for the Mockingjays, Katniss can't help but feel curious. She'd always thought Peeta was cute, even if she would never have admitted it out of loyalty to Gale. Plus there had been talk...she'd just been so confused about how Peeta, ever the kind, funny, warm, loyal man never kept a girlfriend for very long. Katniss had brought it up to her friend Johanna, wondering if maybe Peeta was actually gay.

"I guess I can't rule out bi," Johanna said. "But he's definitely into women."

"How are you so sure?" Katniss asked.

"Dude, we hooked up freshman year," Johanna said. "All I'm saying is, no gay guy is as into kissing a girl as Peeta Mellark."

"Was he...good?" Katniss asked. Being into and being good at were two separate things, after all.

"Really good," Johanna confirmed. "If he wasn't so goody-goody it would have been perfect."

Maybe that's all it is, Katniss thinks. Loneliness mixed with friendship and the burden of knowing that friend is apparently a really good kisser.

Between the fifth and sixth inning, Katniss gets up to go pee, hoping for the line to be short, but of course it's not. She takes her place and checks her phone, where a text from Prim comes in.

Having fun at the game?

Katniss types out a response: Yeah, only I think I might be into Peeta now?

The message is sent off with a swoop noise. That's when a woman coming from washing her hands stops and plants herself in front of Katniss.

"Hey, Katniss Everdeen!" she says. It's Clove Sanchez, someone Katniss had gone to school with, and was one of the girls Peeta had briefly dated.

"Oh, hi Clove," Katniss says. "How have you been?"

"Great!" Clove gives a smug smile. "My Instagram has hit a hundred thousand followers, and District Knives is sponsoring my content. Plus, I'm dating Cato Larsen."

Cato Larsen, the Mockingjay's starting shortstop. He looked like a caveman to Katniss, but Clove had always been the type of person to go for the best, which is why she'd sunk her claws into Peeta for a few weeks in high school.

"How about you?" Clove asks, and by the glint in her eye Katniss can tell she's trying to goad her.

"Good," Katniss replies briefly. "Yeah, things are good."

"I heard about you and Gale online." Clove pouts with fake sympathy. "So sorry about that."

"Well, it was for the best." Usually Katniss hates that kind of cliché phrasing, but dealing with people's comments about the end of her seven-year relationship warranted them. The only people she'd really shared her thoughts with about the situation had been Prim and Peeta. Other people like Madge and Darius warranted more details than others, since they were also friends with Gale, but it wasn't anyone else's business.

Finally a stall opens up and Katniss says, "Good catching up. I'm just going to–"

She points toward the toilet and escapes Clove. In the stall she takes a few deep breaths. Damn Gale.

They'd survived long-distance through college and Gale was getting scouted by the major leagues. The Mockingjays had made an offer, and Katniss had been ecstatic he could come back home. Then the offer from The Trappers came along, and they were a better team. The Mockingjays, admittedly, hadn't been good for the past fifteen years, so it was the better career move.

They were going to do one more year long-distance while Katniss finished up her bachelors degree. But something shifted then. Gale was the hot new rookie, pulling The Trappers from a middle-ranking team to battling for a spot in the championships. And college was very different from the pros.

Katniss, who had never been into social media much and kept everything private, had hundreds of requests to follow her from random people she didn't know. But they had figured out she was Gale's long-term girlfriend from his own posts and were curious. Worst were the comments on his pictures. Most were kind, but others seemed determined to drag her down. Criticizing how she looked, how they perceived her personality, claiming she wasn't hot enough for him, or only with him for the money. Katniss asked Gale to not post pictures of her anymore, which upset him.

"I'm trying to build my image," Gale said. "I'll get better brand deals if I have an angle to it, and part of that is you. You're my girlfriend. I want to be a solid example of a good family man, and you're part of that."

"Family man?" Katniss asked. They'd talked about kids in the far future, but they didn't have any plans soon. They hadn't even discussed marriage outside of a future, undetermined time.

"Yeah," Gale said, "After my dad left us, I had to look to other men to figure out who to be. I want to be that for other boys who might be like me."

"I hate the attention I'm getting, though," Katniss said. "I don't want to live a public life!"

"This is my career," Gale said. "It's part of the job."

They had never really been able to settle the argument. Gale didn't post pictures anymore without Katniss's permission, and occasionally she'd allow a story, but nothing permanent. Toward the end of Gale's first season, Katniss had flown out to see a game, but in his hotel room they ended with an argument about the same issue regarding social media and Gale's career. Then Gale proposed a compromise: they get married and have a baby.

"What?" Katniss asked. "How is that a compromise?"

"I'll be able to play up the dad angle and you can stay private," Gale said.

Katniss's mouth flew open. "I can't believe you want to have a baby to market yourself."

"We're going to have one anyway eventually!" Gale said.

"I don't want my kids all over Instagram where any creep can see them!"

They never recovered from that. Katniss went back home a single woman for the first time in seven years. Several pity parties with Prim and Peeta, a new job, and some time later, she felt steady enough.

Her phone pings with Prim's response: Well it's about time you realized how you felt about him.

Katniss types quickly: What do you mean by that????

It's not until Katniss is back in the stands with Peeta, who has gotten a fresh batch of nachos that Prim's response comes in.

Look, you've always had a soft spot for him. You've always said he was the greatest person to ever exist. Then when you and Gale broke up, it was like you didn't have to censor yourself. That "platonic cuddling" you were doing during winter when our heater didn't work sure didn't seem so platonic. You could have gone to his house where there was heat, after all. You give him really long hugs good-bye, you smile when his name is mentioned, you're constantly wondering why he hasn't dated anyone longer than a couple months. It's in your eyes most of all, when you think he isn't looking. Maybe I'm wrong and you're just really, really good friends, but it doesn't seem that way to me.

"Everything okay?" Peeta asks. Everyone else is on their feet and clapping at Phillip Gloss hitting a home run, while Katniss's eyes are fixed on Prim's text, trying to absorb it.

"Prim's having some boy trouble." She rolls her eyes. "Sent me a huge text about it."

"Well, good thing she has you to protect her." Peeta gives her one of his sweet smiles, with just a touch of shyness, that she's now realizing is only for her. She's never seen it on his face when greeting Prim or joking with Madge, or with any of the over dozen girls he's been with since she's known him.

Katniss puts her phone away and tries to focus on the game, but she can't with Peeta so near. Everything he does seems to draw attention to his mouth. Cupping his hands to his face so his shouts of encouragement can be heard, leaning in close to her ear to compete against the noise around them, sucking cheese off his thumb from the last of the nachos (okay, the last of his nachos–Katniss polishes those off).

Then during the seventh inning stretch, the person beside Katniss pushes against her shoulder and points to the jumbotron. There her own face stares up in confusion with Peeta's in a giant heart and those words GIVE YOUR SWEETHEART A KISS! above their heads.

Peeta shrugs with a lift of the corner of his mouth. He's prepared for a peck on the cheek, the main way to assuage the kiss cam operators to not continually embarrass those who try to refuse the attention. But some impulse comes over Katniss and she seals her lips over his. He jumps a little in surprise, but is quick to return the gesture, cradling her face with his hand and parting his lips to her. He tastes spicy and salty from the nachos, but underneath that, like an incredible delicacy. Katniss becomes so warm in her belly she's sure she swallowed a star and it's burning up in her body.

When they pull away, they're no longer on the jumbotron and a group of guys behind them whistle. Katniss shifts back into her seat, unable to look at Peeta. Oh, god. She just kissed her best friend.

Trying not to have to deal with the aftermath of this quite yet, Katniss takes out her phone and texts Prim:

Katniss: I kissed Peeta.

Prim: !!!!!

Katniss: It was for the kiss cam.

Katniss: But I liked it. A lot.

Katniss: What am I gonna do? He's my best friend. I can't lose him!

Gale had been her friend, before. Then he'd kissed her and she felt like she had to go along with it so she wouldn't lose him. And she had loved him before, had told herself that the love she had for him was good. It wouldn't be like when her mom lost her dad. Safe. That's what Gale had been.

Prim: I don't think you could ever lose him.

Then a different notification comes up on Katniss's phone. She'd been tagged in a story on Instagram. Curious, she opens the notification and saw that Clove had posted a video of the kiss cam footage to her story with the comment:

Guess @Katniss2008 is over @PitcherGale

Katniss watches in the story with horror, clicking back several times to watch the way she moves in so insistently, the way Peeta takes her up on this chance, and the eagerness both of them display kissing each other. Gale might not see this, he got tagged in so much now. But Clove, a player's girlfriend with over hundred thousand followers, had certainly assured that the whole baseball community would be talking about the kiss. This is exactly the kind of thing she'd wanted to get away from!

"Oh no," Peeta says. Katniss looks over and sees that he has the same story pulled up on his phone. He looks up at her, apology all over his face. "Should we go?"

Katniss nods her head and they gather up their things and trash to get out of that stadium. They walk briskly, mostly because Katniss has to get away from the crowds, to feel like she might have some kind of privacy in this stupid social media world.

The sky has turned orange and red with the sunset as they reach Peeta's car. Once inside, Peeta won't take the silence anymore.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks. "How are you?"

She chokes out an incredulous laugh. "I don't know! Angry, upset, embarrassed. I want to use one of those sponsored knives and cut her!"

"I'm sure you could explain to Gale," Peeta says. "If you're worried about him. About him thinking we..."

And he stops, blinking and turning away. And Katniss caught the a glimpse of the rarest emotion to cross Peeta's face–pain. He was always the first to help, the first to offer a smile or a kind word. Katniss wonders if what she's thinking is true, if Peeta has feelings for her, what it must have been like. Her and Gale together for so long, then her rants against ever dating again after what happened.

"I don't care what Gale thinks," Katniss says and meaning it. "I just hate that Clove put our personal business up for everyone to see."

"We did kiss in front of thousands of people," Peeta says. "But I get what you mean."

They sit in spent anger and simmering disappointment until Peeta says, "So, did this totally ruin any chance between us?"

"No," Katniss says. "Not for me, at least."

Peeta exhales a chuckle in relief. "Good. Because I've liked you forever."

"Forever?" Katniss asks, surprised. She'd thought it must have snuck up on him like it had for her.

"Since the first day I saw you," Peeta says. "Mrs. Trinket's history class. You looked really cool, with your leather jacket and long braid, and then Dylan Marvel threw an apple toward Rue Jackson and you reached out your hand and just caught it and threw it back at him, right on his head."

Her mouth hangs open. She vividly remembers this happening, but her memory hadn't clocked Peeta being there.

"That was the first day of sophomore year," Katniss says. "You've liked me all this time?"

"Yeah." That shy, sheepish look is back. "But you were always with Gale and it seemed pretty set. I tried to date other girls, but it didn't feel fair to date them when I still had feelings for you, so none of them really stuck."

I'm the reason he's dated so many girls, Katniss realizes. Not commitment issues or because he was closeted. Because of how he felt about her.

"But these past eight months?" Katniss asks. "Ever since Gale and I broke up?"

"You needed time, and you needed a friend," Peeta says, brushing hair out of her face. "I figured, if it was going to happen, it would happen when you were ready."

He's perfect, Katniss thinks. And then she's leaning over the car console and he's following and they're kissing, finally, finally just for themselves. And she knows it's only the second kiss of many, many more to come.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #modern au #fluff

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the-pale-goddess · 3 years ago

Text

Compound Fracture - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Tiffany and Ethan meet again, joined by the ghosts of their past.

Conclusion to my Drunk Lord Ethan AU aka Tiffany finds out about Ethan’s drunken encounter whilst in the Amazon AU.

Rating/Category: Explicit (+18) / mini series, completed

Warnings: language, mention of alcoholism, explicit adult content (the short explicit part is separated by red tape if you’d wish to skip it)

Author’s note: I’m waving my problematic fav goodbye with tears streaming down my face. Huge thanks to everyone who followed us on this painful journey! Your wonderful support brought us here and I’m immensely grateful for every comment and message ❤️

Without further ado, I invite you for the messy last ride through this Angst Town!

____

“Doctor Addams?”

The sound of her name whizzes through the air like a bullet trying to reach her flesh, but Tiffany dodges it, too mesmerized by the breathtaking Boston skyline to trade the old friend for a willful shot in the heart.

The city she once called home spellbinds her with sophisticated vibrancy; blinding lights blend into familiar colors and shapes, redolent of the intensity of her olden days. For the briefest moment Tiffany forgets about the pinprick of memories, inhaling the brisk April wind. For a minute she's still that young bright thing, all fired up about the new chapter in her life. For just a second, her lungs fill with long-forgotten hope.

“Excuse me, Doctor?” The relentless waiter forces Tiffany to give up the last moment of peace before diving into the pond of her chequered past. He nods at her apologetic smile and points at the door across the hall. “Right this way.”

Dressed in the finest silk stained with qualm, Tiffany heaves a deep, steadying breath and follows the directions.

Perhaps she should know better. She should be stronger, wiser. Mind her business and thrive in the confines of the life she’s built.

But it’s too late to turn back now.

The crowd takes notice of her presence; faint whispers and knowing looks hedge her in as soon as she steps into the gallery. Her shiny black dress floats gracefully with every stride, unshakeable, armor-like confidence protecting her.

There’s a rumor claiming that Dr. Ramsey was offered loads of money to dash off a memoir of his work in The Amazon, but she knows him better than any of the jealous wolves spreading false information.

Knew. She knew him once. Or she never knew him at all.

Nonetheless, anyone with at least one operational brain cell could attest that Ethan Ramsey has no interest in material possessions. Whatever his reason for writing Into The Unknown was, it had nothing to do with money.

The unpleasant churning in her stomach is the ultimate warning—this Boston trip down memory lane proves to be courting disaster. The successful doctor is well aware of the fault in her logic, but trouble seems to find her wherever she hides.

A tray of sparkling straw yellow liquor flashes nearby, and Tiffany doesn’t waste the opportunity to snatch a glass when the waitress moves past her. In essential preparation for what may come next, she drinks her fill, hoping to wash away the forbidding feeling.

Trouble found her busy in the heart of The Big Apple. The copy of Ethan’s book she received bears a deeply personal inscription, an elegantly scribbled admission inviting chaos to her neatly organized life once more.

Of all the lives that needed saving, I couldn't save ours.

Every word pulses under her skin like poison running through her veins when she finds the trouble she’s looking for tonight.

Ethan is trapped; he's frowning at a swarm of doctors Tiffany's passed in the hallway before, blatantly unconcerned with their lively chatter.

A wistful smile stretching across her face is a treachery of reason, but she can't stop it from spreading at the sight of him: stern and rigid, with edges as sharp as his jawline. Time might have been a pitiless mistress, but Ethan hasn't changed one bit—only a splash of grey in his mocha brown hair twinkles as a lasting testament to another year added to the score.

Her heart quickens all of a sudden, revisiting a nostalgic memory of the sassy intern thrilled to talk to her medical hero, playing the idolatry card to tip the scales to her advantage. Time might have blurred the sentiment, but it hasn't dimmed its power.

She tries to contain the fire, trap the uncomfortable feeling inside her chest and take control of the situation. Despite her bravest effort, it’s all in vain: she can’t take her eyes off Ethan, having the hazardous warmth spill over.

“New York looks fantastic on you, Doctor Addams.” A familiar voice puts an abrupt end to her lurking. Come what may, she doesn’t even flinch.

“Long time no see, Doctor Carrick.” Tiffany’s wide grin greets the elegant intruder scanning her face with intent. “Wish I could return the compliment, but I’m willing to bet a lot of money you haven’t changed your ways.”

Tobias grins back, his smug expression inseparable from his cocky attitude. “I’m the whole package, darling. Why change something that’s already perfect?”

“Your package could use some humility.” Tiffany quips, raising a brow.

“Humility doesn’t blend well with my charm.”

“You’d have to try it first to know for sure.”

Defeated, Tobias shakes his head before sinking his lips into the glass of bubbly, and Tiffany immediately follows suit.

A few sips later, he swirls to a less lighthearted topic. “I must admit, I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“You clearly don’t know me very well.”

“I know someone who does.”

Tiffany doesn’t seem fazed by the casual remark, her dense lashes sweep the crowd with airy nonchalance as she takes a long sip of her champagne. The subtle blot on her deceit flashes in her gaze for one split second, catching the unlooked-for attention.

But she’s always been a masterful actress, and Tobias has always lacked the instinct for precise observation.

Before he makes a feeble attempt at grasping the nuance of her reaction, the moment is gone forever, forcing him to rely on the skill he's more proficient in: improvisation.

“How does it feel to be the muse to one of the greatest minds of our generation?”

Though the comment provokes a flurry of interest demanding him to elaborate on the notion, she rolls her eyes. “It feels like I need more alcohol before engaging in a conversation with you, Tobias.”

“Listen, I’m not trying to manipulate you into leaving your husband. I’m simply curious what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“Why would I share my innermost thoughts with some random guy at a work event?”

“Some random guy?” Tobias clutches his chest theatrically. “You’re hurting my feelings, Morticia. I thought we were making progress here.”

Suppressing the urge to snort with laughter, Tiffany scrunches her face up, letting her amusement shine through. “Why does Ethan tolerate you, again?”

“I know some of his secrets and I’m hilarious.”

“The latter is all hearsay.” Ethan’s deep, smoky voice cuts through their banter.

Tiffany’s eyes are instantly drawn to his, emerald and sapphire alight with matching intensity that puts the crystal chandelier above them to shame. The small, private smile these two old lovers share is charged with sentiment and trepidation neither of them tries to conceal.

“Great, you’re ganging up on me. Luckily, I have an escape plan.” Tobias waves an empty glass and pats Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him. “Have fun without me, kids.”

Ethan and Tiffany barely acknowledge his absence, wholly absorbed in the staredown.

Her hand extends as if in greeting, but lands combing through her chestnut locks instead. It’s an odd feeling—to have your heart hammering in your chest, desperate to break free from the cage, and withhold any evidence of the silent yearning.

“You look good.” She blurts out, her spontaneous compliment lights up Ethan’s face with a mysterious smirk.

“You look better.”

Their eyes seem to carry a separate conversation; the palpable undertones of excitement in the pleasantries are no match to the thrill sparkling in their gaze.

Not allowing the frisson to impair her judgement, Tiffany attempts harmless small talk. “Congratulations on your book. Who would’ve thought we’ll be getting an eye-opening memoir from The Ethan Ramsey.”

“Certainly that someone wouldn’t be me.” Ethan’s eyes never leave Tiffany, brazenly studying her face. “The WHO Foundation wished to use my Brazil journals. I figured it would be best to crystallize their medical worth myself.”

“Control what you can control.” A winsome grin sneaks in unbidden, and she’s thankful for the power of make-up covering a tint of flush blossoming her cheeks.

“Precisely.” He nods imperceptibly, pleased at the reference, then glances sharply over the crowd. “Where’s, uhm, Brett?”

“Brian.” She corrects him, the mischievous glint storming in his eyes a convincing proof that the innocent mistake was there on purpose. “He’s closing a deal in London.”

His brows waggle slightly, a momentary flash of surprise crossing his features. “You’re here all by yourself?”

“I don’t need a supervisor, Doctor.”

“That’s not what I—” Before he gets a chance to finish the thought, a short, panicked redhead almost jumps at him.

“There you are, Doctor! We need you for a quick photoshoot.”

„You need me for what?” Ethan winces.

“We have to send some pictures to the press. Please, Doctor Ramsey, it’ll take just a minute.”

Her pleading looks don’t work on Ethan—the crease on his forehead only deepens, announcing his hardline stance against any buffoonery in front of the camera.

Tiffany chuckles to herself, deciding to help the poor woman and try out an old trick.

“Go.” Her alluring voice casts a spell on him just as she grabs his forearm, squeezing gently. “Find me when you’re done schmoozing.”

Her unexpected gesture seeps away Ethan’s grimace. “All right. I’ll find you later.”

The electrifying glance passing between them seals the promise, only sowing Tiffany’s confusion. She scrutinizes his tall, imposing frame until he’s lost in the huddle of guests.

“You're Tiffany, right?”

She turns around upon hearing her name, cheerful and unprepared.

Like a sandcastle swept by the tide, Tiffany's smile falters when her gaze meets battleship grey—cold and majestic, all but forgotten after years of recurring nightmares about the very same pair of eyes.

The crimson on her lips is not bold enough to challenge the nauseating churning in her stomach.

“You look just like I imagined.” A distinctive Portuguese lilt rings in her ears, inducing a persistent headache of memories she's buried deep with no intention of reawakening. But they're back, uninvited, flooding her with an overfamiliar torrent of destructive emotions.

The meaning of the casually uttered statement finally dawns on Tiffany, twisting her features in shock. Though she knows the answer, she asks as if to smother her own delusions. “And you are?”

“Gia. Gia Macedo.” She announces with a short giggle, the high-pitched sound splitting Tiffany’s head in two. “I was helping the team led by Eth��Doctor Ramsey in The Amazon.”

“I'm sorry, why would this concern me? What is your business with me?”

“No business other than curiosity.” Gia declares, the intention behind her playful smirk unfamiliar. “I was wondering what you’re like. He was obsessed with you when he wasn’t working. Such a fascinating man, huh?”

“Fascinating, right.” Tiffany’s best fake smile strains her muscles while she struggles to offer a coherent reply in this raging chaos. Leaping to the safest form of defence, she pursues a spontaneous plan. “Now that you’ve seen what I’m like…Excuse me.”

Unceremoniously, Doctor Addams spins on her heel, leaving Miss Macedo alone in the crowd.

A secluded balcony on the other side of the gallery becomes her temporary shelter. Gut-wrenching feelings bubbling up inside of her evaporate with every deep breath when the fresh, chilly wind calms her nerves.

Past has no control over Tiffany anymore, she’s learned to ignore the ache. Barbed wire surrounding her heart protects her from its detrimental impact. But no matter how convincing her inner voice sounds, the old wounds itch all the same when she returns to the party.

The bar calls her in for another glass of liquid mettle. Half-way through the room, Ethan’s impeccable navy suit catches her attention, but she instantly curses at the spontaneous reflex to spy on him.

The man of the hour is deeply engrossed in a discussion with a group of fancy strangers. However, to his left, there is one person Tiffany has just got acquainted with.

Thousands tiny splinters of the past hit Tiffany at once, cutting through her flesh. Her mouth falls open in horror, entire body freezes on the spot as the sanity leaves her, completely unnoticed.

Her first instinct is to run, but she’s frozen to the spot while her eyes bore into Miss Macedo beaming by Ethan’s side.

Tobias is watching the scene from afar, and though he has no goddamn clue what petrified Tiffany, he suspects that his best friend must’ve been involved. Before he makes sense of the mess unfolding in front of him, Doctor Addams is already on her way to the exit.

„Fucking donkey.” He grumbles to himself and quickly sends out a text.

Your Cinderella is running away. I’d suggest taking the stairs.

* * *

Tears blur Tiffany’s vision the second she’s outside the building and within seconds, a waterfall begins to rain down her skin despite her best effort to block it out. She feels pathetic for grasping at the scraps of the reverie that brought her back to him. She knew that preserving a fickle illusion was a mistake, but apparently she had to let her silly little heart shatter again to realize just how disastrous.

The next thing that follows seems to be just another delusion: her name drifts in the air like an arrow, almost stopping her dead.

She speeds up upon Ethan shouting her name again, frenetic steps combined with sky-high stilettos almost trip her over, but she doesn’t let any obstacle slow her down.

“Tiffany, wait!”

The older doctor doesn’t give up; she’s no competition to a runner as excellent as him. He catches up with Tiffany, trying to block the way with his stately body, but she ducks away to avoid crashing into his arms.

She finally looks up, presenting her moonlit features in all their heartbreaking glory.

He’s taken aback by a cascade of heavy tears and mascara falling down her alabaster cheeks violently. This miserable occasion marks the first time she’s cried in front of him and the sight pierces him as deep as her words when Tiffany’s voice manages to rise over her muted sobbing.

“You lured me here with your long overdue poetic bullshit remorse just to punish me?”

“What?” Shell-shocked, Ethan inspects her face twisted by distress.

“Do you talk about me before or after she gets you off?”

“For fuck’s sake, Tiffany, what the hell are you talking about?”

Her chest rises and falls with rapid breaths as she hisses. “Your fucking Amazon girl.”

In utter confusion, Ethan recollects all faces he’s seen today—all random, meaningless—until a flash of recognition provides him with the image of the woman he anticipated to never meet again.

The tie around his neck gets too tight all of a sudden and the urge to drink himself into oblivion splashes in his brain for the third time today.

“I didn’t invite her. I didn’t even recognize her in the crowd.” His firm reassurance only elicits a peal of lunatic laughter from Tiffany.

“She sure as hell recognizes you. She came up to me, knowing exactly who I am.”

“Tiffany, please, can we…”

“You told me it was a one time thing.” She interjects, her eyes are closed as she rubs her temples.

“It was. I haven’t contacted her ever since that trip.” He gasps for air, unsure whether his sincerity can back him up at this point. “I didn't know she’d be in attendance. You have to believe me.”

His mistakes and misconceptions pay him a visit, keeping company with his demons, the unsparing team weakening the resolve he’s built to endure his silent despair.

“Can we please talk somewhere private?” Ethan pleads.

“And where would that be?”

Through the eyes of his mind Ethan sees his old self cowardly leaving the scene, but the man he is today knows better than to let the stench of the past overpower him now.

“We could drive to my apartment.” He offers, his candid voice giving no sign of the internal struggle.

There’s a glint in Tiffany’s eyes far stronger than his will, a glitch in her fury helping him arrive at a realization he didn’t expect.

Under Ethan’s expectant gaze, she lets the proposition marinate in silence until her breath evens slightly and she shrugs her shoulders in defeat.

“Fine.”

* * *

Ethan’s Back Bay condo appears to be identical to Tiffany’s dim memory of it; her feet carry her to the bathroom through the dark on autopilot.

Bright mirror lights reveal the aftermath of her uncharacteristic display of rage while she stares into her reflection: streaks of mascara and glitter smudged all over her eyes and cheeks, eyelids all puffy from crying. Swallowing another wave of tears, she steals one of the cotton wool pads from the nearby shelf and starts cleaning up the mess.

With a skillful touch-up, her make-up could at least pretend to play the part. And so could Tiffany.

When she emerges into the living room, Ethan waits by the window, his wistful gaze fixed on the limitless horizon.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Hit me with a glass of Redemption.”

Ethan hangs his head. He assumed the brutal truth would sooner or later join their conversation, but it wouldn’t stop his bruised heart from naively hoping for the latter. “How about something non-alcoholic?”

Before Tiffany strikes him with a well-aimed mockery connected to the telling name of the bourbon company, he cuts to the chase.

“I’ve been sober for five months. Having liquor around isn’t safe.”

The revelation drains color out of Tiffany’s face and puts a lump in her throat. Braving through her horrified gaze, Ethan decides to address the issue directly.

“I was in rehab twice.”

The vastness of her dismay broadcasts in her glossy eyes and parted lips almost too frightened to utter a sound. A long, quiet moment later, a barely audible whisper breaks through. “Do you think that…Maybe if you didn’t…”

“No, Tiffany.” He steps in to alleviate her worries, knowing the exact shade of her thoughts. “Not coming to meet you in LA wouldn't change anything. I have only myself to blame.”

Her emerald eyes shift the focus to the exquisite view behind the window, clearly skeptical of Ethan’s reliability.

“How are you feeling?”

“In all honesty, it’s been difficult. But I’ve managed to regain control of my life. Naveen and Tobias harass me daily just to make sure I’m fine.”

“And are you really?”

Her voice, thick with concern, echoes in his head asking the same words over and over again, and though the answer is dreadfully obvious, he feels obliged to frame it differently.

“I’m doing my best.” Ethan’s weak, stilted smile offers no reassurance as the silent horrors of his struggle gnaw at Tiffany. “It has to suffice.”

Her own misery dissipates in collision with his experiences, filling her mind with niggling worry. Her own scars and resentment drown in it, allowing a new shade of regret to spring up the surface.

She sniffles, strangling all treacherous ideas forming in her head along with the hopeless need to comfort Ethan.

Ethan sizes her up, noticing a seemingly irrelevant detail that triggers a wave of hidden memories dawning on him at once. He picks them up like evidence and sets apart, searching for clues. Big sapphire ring and elegant wedding band announcing her marriage a year ago in Los Angeles, her manicured hand clutching the bag like it was her lifeline. Her humorless laugh at that balcony. Her hesitation back then, her tantrum tonight.

A violent adrenaline rush fuels him, and he runs with it, allowing the madman to emerge from the prison of his mind.

“What does it feel like to move on?” He asks, peeking at Tiffany’s hand. Impressive ruby coruscating in the light taunts him, but it’s not a sound reason for a direct confrontation.

“Move on?”

He calculates the risk, quickly realizing that he has nothing left to lose. “My therapist told me I should let you go. But I don’t want to.”

At that, Tiffany freezes, holding her breath for a dreadful second.

„You let me go years ago.” She swiftly schools her features and sneaks a furtive glance at Ethan, her studied numbness convincing enough to stir his blood. “I was never yours to begin with.”

“I wanted you to be mine.” He asserts with a sigh. “I still do. I always do.”

Tiffany lets the weight of his words sink in, her defence still up high, keeping her afloat. To get in, Ethan needs to drag her underwater.

He takes a step in her direction, the shy movement getting a side-eye from Tiffany. “I should’ve fought for you when I had the chance.”

“We can’t cling to the past forever.” A ghost of a smile followed by her soundless sigh are not exclusively reserved for him, and that subtle difference in her tone pushes him over the edge.

“Why did you come to Boston?”

“I—” She trails off, blinking furiously. “I wouldn’t miss your book launch.”

“Is that why you’re here? To support your mentor?”

She scoffs, half-amused, half-irritated, twisting the ring on her finger nervously. “Why else would I be here?”

Tiffany’s cryptic answers vex him in a similar manner. Though Ethan is vaguely aware of the consequences, he decides to express his mounting frustration, firing another question like a missile aimed at her heart.

“Are you happy, Tiffany?”

Her award-winning smile dims like stage lights at the end of a play and a genuine, unfiltered expression finally shines through her act.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She retorts in voice as steady as a sinking ship. “I have everything I could possibly need.”

Dissatisfied with the reply, Ethan challenges her again. “It’s a simple question. Are you happy with your life? Your husband?”

She stares at him with a deadpan expression for a silent moment. Soon, her empty stare is replaced with blazing fury as she fights to keep her composure.

“I have everything I could possibly need.” Dewy-eyed, she repeats the sentence through gritted teeth.

He should take pity on her and cancel whatever devious plan he’s manically hatched, but the tears streaming flawlessly down Tiffany’s face have only proven there is no way back now.

Ignoring the painful twinge of shame, Ethan probes into Tiffany’s facade further. “Does he know the real you? Has he ever seen you at your lowest?”

Another attempt proves to be successful. “This absurd interrogation is over. I’m not going to take part in another one of your games.”

At last, Tiffany goes ballistic, vehemently rushing towards the door with hands balled into fists. Showing no mercy, he chases her down the hall.

“Have you ever told him how it feels to bust a gut trying to save someone’s life with an outside chance of succeeding, but fighting nevertheless, only to end up losing the battle? Has he ever seen you torn apart? Have you let him in, Tiffany?”

The series of questions makes her snap. She turns around, looking daggers at Ethan, her lip quivers as she fumes. “Spare me the therapy session and save your talents for someone who actually needs your fucking charity.”

But the session isn’t over yet.

“Has he ever made you weak at the knees?”

Tiffany remains silent, though the forest in her eyes goes up in flames, and it’s the scrap of an answer Ethan requires to draw his robust conclusion.

Driven by the storm inside of him, the diagnostician takes another dangerous step and goes for the throat, the question mirroring his own anguish. “Have you ever ruined the best damn thing that happened in your life?”

“I have fucked it all up.” She roars, tears scalding her witch-bright eyes as she tries to wipe them off.

Silence consumes them whole as the unbearable tension exacerbates, and yet, it’s not enough to break the forlorn stare keeping them locked in the heated space.

Tiffany finally spoils the ominous muteness, muttering as if to herself with misty gaze tumbling down. „Me and Brian are separated.”

Ethan’s heart threatens to pound out of his chest, his diagnosis steering towards the final confirmation. “Why?”

“He’s not you.”

All of a sudden, he’s excruciatingly close, almost invading her space. She refuses to look up, to admit defeat, to give him the satisfaction of throwing her out of gear and spreading wide open, to let him see how much she still wants him.

But he already knows.

Ethan reaches out to her face tentatively, afraid she’s going to shatter. His touch is given unspoken permission and the gentlest brush of his fingertips follows up and down her cheeks, her neck, across her jaw, before he tilts her chin up, forcing Tiffany to look him in the eye.

Their frustration takes a different form, pent-up tension verges on erupting, imploring eyes ablaze with a new purpose.

Unsure who moved first, the distance shrinks even further—their faces merely inches apart now, the dizzying closeness and hot, heavy breaths inviting them even closer.

With extreme caution, Ethan’s lips brush the corners of her eyes, kissing the tears away. She doesn’t protest, doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe for a good second. His feather-light kisses trail down until their lips meet at last, gliding over each other ever so slightly.

The dainty brush fulfilling the long-held dream makes the dam burst, their emotions threatening to overflow when their lips connect in a bruising kiss—salty and sweet, lipstick mixed with tears, pulling them into a crushing embrace.

Starved tongues and hands join them with reckless abandon as the kiss deepens, their hearts screaming louder than the scars they’re used to hide.

Breathless and intoxicated, they part for air, only to be seized by another wave of sizzling need. Their mouths overlap in a frenzied dance again, letting the moment devour them completely.

Then, unexpectedly, Ethan retreats.

Like a sinner seeking repentance, he drops to his knees, resting his forehead against her belly with hungry, penitent lips planting fervent kisses wherever they reach. His careful hands thread through the layers of her dress, hiking the material up for Tiffany to drape it around her waist.

She shivers at his touch; his fingers burn her skin as they move up her thigh with devotion, eager lips follow the same path, his beard deliciously scratching cashmere-like skin, only adding to the overwhelming sensation.

A groan of approval escapes him when he’s finally near her lacy thong. He nuzzles her folds, all soaked because of him, but doesn’t go beyond subtle teasing—not without her permission.

“Can I taste you?” His voice trembles much like her entire body.

She is at his mercy just as much as he is at hers.

The reply is immediate: she hastily pulls her panties down, using Ethan’s help to get out of them completely. Once she’s fully exposed, he groans again, as if to remind himself that this moment isn’t a figment of his imagination.

Wasting no time, he hooks her leg over his shoulder as she steadies herself against the wall, and dives between her legs.

His tongue begs for absolution with every persistent flick, eliciting ardent affirmation from Tiffany; her moans reign in the room, inspiring Ethan to work her up, licking and sucking with expert precision as her hands keep his head deliciously trapped between her thighs. His eyes are shamelessly locked with hers, witnessing how gracefully she welcomes the piercing thrill taking hold of her body.

Two glorious fingers bolstering the pleasure finish Tiffany faster than expected; she comes hard and loud, panting his name in awe, her trembling legs struggling to stand on the ground—Ethan’s lips still savoring her don’t help the cause.

“Come here.” Tiffany purrs, urging him into her arms.

Slightly out of practice, they move onto the bedroom as their impatient hands clumsily peel off all layers of clothing in haste, abandoning any pretence of restraint. Soon, they’re skin on skin, focused on frenzied licks and kisses while their fingers are occupied with keen caress.

The scene is strikingly similar to their first time: a glint of devotion in her lust-hazed eyes spurring him on, the most erotic gasp escaping her parted lips when his throbbing cock sinks into her slowly, quiet desperation pulling them into hypnotic rhythm as they give in to the yearning.

He drives deep into her and she takes him all in, with nails digging into his flesh and eyes half shut. The sublime, pleasure-driven melody of their moans floats in the air to the accompaniment of the rhythmic slapping, the sound as obscene as it is sacred.

Unable to separate himself from Tiffany’s mouth for even a second, Ethan drinks up every wondrous sound off her kiss-bitten lips. Her hands and legs draw him as close as possible, basking in the heavenly feeling of his weight on top of her.

An incredibly rare, wide smile breaks through, lighting Ethan’s face up as his thrusts become slower, more relaxed because he’s finally home.

He’s been lost, but he’s home now.

Tiffany comes first; the way she unravels into his arms as she arches her back, tense and out of breath with bliss flooding her cheeks with siren-red, reminds him that she’s real.

The enthralling sight of her orgasm ignites his own. With a gravelly groan, he fills her up, feeling her legs tighten the grip around his hips. The ripple of pleasure passing through them cements the unity of two bodies melting into one, their violent heartbeats delightfully in-sync.

Refusing to mangle the airtight space binding them together, they share a drugging kiss as the embers of the rapture burn down on their glistening skin. The reality seems dimensions away—there’s just this moment and this bed, their tangled limbs and racing pulse. No past, no future, just two lovers seeking reunion instead of definitive closure.

Despite the uncomfortable weight of the unspoken issues eating them alive, they bask in the afterglow, allowing their bodies to do all the talking.

Tiffany takes Ethan’s hand in hers, the difference in size curls their mouths into languorous smiles. The bliss quickly fades away when Tiffany’s alert eyes notice a scar stretched on his palm. She trails her finger up and down the long, thin line with genuine concern.

“What happened?”

Ethan gulps at the question. The blurry memory of the night he reached his rock bottom clouds his features. “I, erm, don’t want to spoil the mood.”

“It’s okay.” She whispers as she presses Ethan’s palm to her lips, peppering the damaged skin with a series of lingering kisses. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Her soft touch and reassuring smile subside the tension in his chest with ease, replacing the grim flashback with the comforting warmth of her presence.

The ever vibrant Boston skyline glimmers in glorious emerald when he stares into Tiffany’s eyes, the evanescent glow making him realize he hasn’t seen the full variety of shades yet. Inevitably, guilt creeps up at him again, prompting to disturb the intimate silence.

“I’m sorry for ruining your marriage.”

Dumbstruck, Tiffany raises her brows and snorts with laughter. “No, you’re not.”

“But I am.” Ethan cups her cheek, emphasizing the magnitude of his statement. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Want to hear the truth?” The query sounds like a threat, but Ethan only nods and Tiffany averts her gaze before proceeding. “I could never move on from you. I tried…God, how much I tried. But I failed every time. I forced myself into believing that one day I’d be able to return the love Brian offered to me.”

Her wickedly bittersweet smile feels like a punch when she looks him in the eye again. “But how could I when my heart was still bleeding for you?”

Overwhelmed by emotion, Ethan closes his eyes, trying to keep his tears at bay. His arms lock Tiffany in a strong embrace as her story continues.

“So I’ve decided to put you in a cage to stop the pain from spreading and, at the same time, prevent you from disappearing completely.” A pensive expression transforms her angelic face, her finger tracing mindlessly along his collarbone during the short pause.

“All my good memories of you, my love, everything I had left of you...You set it all free in LA. I couldn’t delude myself anymore. I couldn’t lead him on with a promise I wouldn’t keep.”

In a surge of sympathy, Ethan twines his hand with Tiffany’s, placing a loving kiss on each of her knuckles.

„Both of you are free now. He must know you didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Tiffany lets out a mirthless laugh, nodding slowly. An everlasting connection between their eyes offers consolation when green meets up with soothing ocean blue.

“Do you think we can move on from the past? From our mistakes?”

“It depends.” Ethan muses, brooding over the words that slip through his mouth next. „Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago.”

“Then we’ll be fine.” His smile holds the vow Tiffany chooses to believe in. “I want to be better. I intend to dedicate every day to proving how much you mean to me, if you’d let me.”

Despite years of repressed feelings and the catastrophic damage to their history, some semblance of a new beginning seems to be within their reach.

“Are you asking me for a second chance?”

“I am. I wasn’t ready then, but I’ve learned my lesson. I am ready now. I want to be with you.”

Even though she doesn’t verbalize her thought, the irresistible beam dancing on her lips conveys the message quite vividly.

She nuzzles Ethan’s neck. “Look at us, talking about our feelings like we’re not fucked in the head.”

For a change, Ethan lets out an unrestrained snort. “We’re a work in progress.”

“Is that what they tell you in rehab?”

“Will you mock me if I confirm?”

“I’ll kiss you first.”

The innocent peck on the lips turns ravenous at a stroke of their tongues, only whetting their appetite anew. Renewed excitement is hindered by a muffled ringtone coming from Ethan’s phone vibrating on the floor.

“That must be Tobias.” He murmurs into Tiffany’s mouth, reluctant to pull apart. “Who else would be calling in the middle of the night?”

Her soft giggle and the dimples it creates only encourage him to stay in her arms. “Let me remind you that you ditched your own party without a proper goodbye. Pick it up.”

Groaning in annoyance, Ethan untangles himself from Tiffany to reach for the jacket carelessly swept under the bed and fishes out the phone. When he answers, he’s immediately greeted by a relieved sigh loud enough for both of them to hear.

“I don’t have to drag you out of some shitty bar, do I?”

“No. I’m, erm…” Ethan’s voice cracks when he looks at Tiffany snuggling up his side with a content smile. “Home and more sober than ever.”

“Thank fuck.” Tobias all but shouts. “Have you found Addams?”

“I have.”

“Is she with you now?”

“Affirmative.”

“She’s a married woman, Ramsey, don’t you have any shame?” The fake reproof in Tobias’ voice is immediately overshadowed by a wolf whistle that makes Tiffany dive under the blanket. “Just kidding, I orchestrated this. Play it safe, buddy.”

Tiffany’s contagious laughter takes over the room the second Ethan finishes the phone call. “Of all people, you’ve chosen this guy to be your friend. Oh, sweet irony.”

„That’s the thing, I haven’t.” Ethan joins in, unsure whether he’s laughing out of sheer joy of being around her and seeing her this relaxed or the fact that his turbulent friendship with Tobias might have just saved his miserable life.

The reality slowly sets back in, gradually silencing the fervent commotion.

„Speaking of…” Ethan clears his throat. “Is your divorce scheduled yet?”

“Yeah, the process starts in two weeks.”

“Would you like to go out with me then?” He asks without hesitation.

Her mouth falls open for a single moment, then a hint of a smirk sprawls across her plushy lips. “Maybe.”

“Have a dinner with me, Tiffany.” Ethan murmurs into her neck, lightly biting at her silky skin.

“Aren’t you greedy?” She chokes off a moan with a chuckle, her fingers rake through Ethan’s hair. “Some time to grieve my marriage would be appropriate.”

“I just made you come twice. We’ve already crossed the line of propriety.” He states, the matter-of-fact tone of his voice melts within seconds when another emotional confession follows. “I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

A thought occurs to Tiffany, inspired by the clearest blue gazing at her fixedly like a beacon of hope.

Maybe moving on is accepting that some things are meant to be broken, and some other are worth fighting for until the very last breath. Maybe it’s learning to differentiate between the two.

After a long pause, a pout twisting into a tentative smile precedes her final answer. “All right. I’ll go on a date with you.”

Her skin is hot and smooth beneath his fingertips as he brushes a damp lock off her forehead, then kisses the spot, his lips trailing a path down to meet hers, both of them failing to hold in a smile.

This is real.

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #guest appearance: tobias carrick #ethan ramsey x mc #angst fest #open heart fanfiction #ethan x tiffany

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flyinglotus777 · 4 years ago

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Netflix’s Squid Game

SPOILER ALERT! If you are interested in watching the series, I HIGHLY suggest you do so. This article will be an overall synopsis and my review of the show. For an in-depth analysis of the symbolism of the show and ending, scroll down to the fourth to last paragraph.

The Netflix show, “Squid Game,” written and directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk is a phenomenal Korean drama centered around our victor, Seong Gi-hun, played by Lee Jung-jae. Contestants were recruited to play in a life or death competition due to their lack of luck, financial knowledge, and influx of impending debt they have accumulated throughout their lives. We first meet Gi-hun as he is down on his luck. Living with his elderly, overworked mother (which in countries outside of the United States is not strange nor uncommon) Gi-hun was a friend to gambling, but that toxic love caused him to be in debt to a gang of (what seemed to be) loan sharks. When luck finally strikes him on the race track, life simultaneously decides to take an excrement on his reality. His debt seekers catch him on his hot streak and involuntarily sign him up to be a participant in the Squid Game.

Similar to many other of the 456 participants, they all shared a common denominator of being in situations it seemed only money could fix. Upon arrival the contestants were asked to voluntarily sign wavers in order to participate in the game, while unknowingly risking their lives, for the opportunity to win 456 billion won (which would be roughly over $3.5 million in US currency). The challenges were mostly based on nostalgic childhood games, both based in the United States and South Korea.

Now I knew due to the explanation in the introduction of episode one that if any player were to lose, they would die. So during the first challenge of red light green light, when players were bulletly penalized for losing I was not surprised. After the game, the players decided to rally together and quit playing. The influence of the cash prize split the decision down the middle, leaving the old man, player 1, to be the final decision. To my surprise he actually chose to decline, freeing all of the players. During the voting, many players screamed at each other as to why they would choose to stay in the hell hole as other players responded that the outside world was not any better if not the same as the harsh environment they were already in. This reality struck many contestants as they returned back to their reality of debt, dependents, and for some bounty hunts, thus resulting in them returning to the game.

During the whole season, I was trying to find the purpose of these games. We knew why the participants felt motivated to play, but I wondered what was the purpose of having them fight for their lives in the first place. When the PlayStation faced soldiers forced the doctor (player 111) to dissect the bodies for organs to sell at the black market, at first I thought that it was what the original game maker wanted which I thought was genius. Soon to learn that it was actually a violation to a code of equality that was placed inside the arena applying to all of those who existed, soldiers and participants alike. Which struck me as odd due to the soldiers being able to tote guns and wear masks based on their own hierarchy and the participants being collectively isolated and given numbers as if it was a remake of the Stanford Prison experiment. Nonetheless many soldiers faced the same fate as the players, and my pondering would meet the solution come the finale.

Let’s discuss players. I only favored Gi-hun because he was the protagonist, but throughout the story he grew on me as his big heart prevailed through the madness. I knew Choo Sang-woo, the embezzling business man and hometown friend of Gi-hun played by Park Hae-soo, was a psychopath when I saw him in a fully filled bathtub with his suit on. Running from the police, in debt or not, that’s just as much of a red flag for serial killer tendencies as sleeping with socks on or having too thin and highly arched eyebrows. The episode that he crossed Ali, the father of one from Pakistan with the missing fingers, made me hate Sang-woo for the rest of the series. I was infuriated and frustrated with Ali for being that naïve to believe that they could escape the round as a duo, but understood his perspective since up until that point Sang-woo was a dependable, trusted ally to Ali. However after that episode I didn’t care who won, I was just ready for Sang-woo to die.

Kang Sae-byeok, the skeptical and beautiful warrior from North Korea played by Jung Ho-yeon, deserves her own paragraph. Along with her beauty, her presence and demeanor was so bad ass. She was thrifty and intelligent, as her talent being pick pocketing. I was waiting for her to just be so bad ass. As the punk disguised to be gangster, Jang Deok-su, pushed her around which seemed to be normal behavior between the two, I was ready for Sae-byeok to twist his arm, send a plunging round house kick to his nuts, and cut his snake tattoo right off of his face. Although her exterior was tough, her heart was made of malleable gold which we got to see as she opened up to her female companion during the marble challenge and sobbed from her loss afterwards. Although she was not the killer bad ass queen I had wanted her to be, I still call her a warrior because of her resiliency throughout life’s and the game’s many obstacles and her drive to provide her younger brother with a better life.

Thankfully Deok-su got what he deserved as Han Mi-nyeo poetically decided to take both of their lives during the glass challenge. “You said we would be together till the end,” she said before diving into her inevitable death with her short lived lover. Mi-nyeo was incredibly annoying as I would often pinch the inside corners of my eyes and scratch my eyebrows when she would appear. However that crazy bitch served justice, and I love her for that.

I was highly disappointed by the demise of the detective Hwang Jun-ho, played by the handsome Wi Ha-joon. I was rooting for detective Jun-ho, as I’m sure we all were, on his pursuit to find his brother. I was not surprised that his brother was Front Man, as I had suspected that his brother must’ve died or been apart of the game making due to his absence in real life and the current game. After discovering his brother was the victor of his year, to me it only made sense that he would be apart of the game enforcement. As we saw from Gi-hun, a normal life is impossible to live after experiencing something so traumatic as a series of death ridden children games. However I was saddened and surprised that detective Jun-ho was unsuccessful in closing down the whole operation. I mean the man was close to performing forced, aristocratic fellatio in the name of serving and protecting the law. I truly thought because he had gotten so far and was so close to exposing the operation that the only choice he had was to be successful. At last he was shot and killed by his own blood, the one he had been looking for; providing us with a cinematic and heart jerking ending to detective Jun-ho.

Lastly lets discuss the old man, player 001 named O Yeong-su, whom I also nicknamed Poppy during the series. Deceivingly innocent and weak, I genuinely liked Yeong-su throughout the game play. I thoroughly enjoyed his relationship with Gi-hun and saw him as a valuable player in most instances. I believe he was one of the main reasons that Gi-hun continued to lead with his heart. Gi-hun claimed that Yeong-su was the reason he returned to the games and later found out that Yeong-su was the reason there were games in the first place. The climatic episode of the marble challenge was when their relationship had been defined as “gganbu” (which is a term for trusted, close friends in Korean, as explained in the series), thus Yeong-su establishing a special place in Gi-hun’s heart. During the challenge, Yeong-su begins to have an episode of what we all assumed to be dementia as the arena they are playing in is designed like his old neighborhood and he abandons the game to take a trip down memory lane. Gi-hun screams in frustration at the old man to play with him only to end up losing in their even and odd game and resulting in deceit, tricking the old man to let him be the victor. Now if I was Gi-hun, I would’ve convinced Yeong-su to let me hold his marbles for safe keeping and let him have a fun time reminiscing on his life while he ran down the clock. Then when it was time, I would’ve turned in all 20 marbles just as Sang-woo did and went about my business. It would’ve only been right for the old man to forfeit as he was already on his death bed, or so we innocently thought. Before I get into the ending, I want to talk about the last match between Sang-woo and Gi-hun.

Finally, the last game to see who would be victorious in a highly anticipated game of Squid between Gi-hun and Sang-woo. It seemed as if it were a battle between good vs evil; Gi-hun representing a more benevolent side as he would often optimistically look to help other competitors and extend the kindness he had been shown versus Sang-woo who represented a more vindictive and ruthless side, determined to hurt anyone in order to receive his highly coveted and long awaited prize in an arena that erased any foundation of morals or ethics as soon as the light turned red. Luck was on Gi-hun’s side as he had the opportunity to play offense. With a cunning mind and a vengeance for Sae-byeok’s death, Gi-hun delivered a can of whoop ass to his opponent. As the saying goes, the good shall always prevail. Perhaps his heart was too pure as Gi-hun halted from crossing the finish line and offered Sang-woo a chance to live, thus forfeiting the prize money. Needless to say, I applauded when Sang-woo committed suicide as it was the only right thing to do in his position.

A year passed by and Gi-hun seemed worse than before. Physically his style was bummy wealthy, a look pioneered by Bill Gates, but mentally he was in shambles. How could you blame him? Gi-hun discovered that the responsible party for these horrendous events was none other than his ggangbu, old man Yeong-su. The biggest, jaw dropping plot twist of the entire series. As they were joined on Christmas Eve and Yeong-su on his death bed, they placed one final bet on an assumed to be drunken, homeless man who sat on the streets as it snowed and waited for help to arrive. Yeong-su explained how he actually wanted to help people and give his money to people who needed it, but wanted to do it in an “entertaining way.” As Gi-hun flared with outrage towards the old man for finding amusement in killing people, the old man rebutted using horse races as an example of people’s amusement. Yeong-su also said he participated in the games because it was more fun to play than to be a spectator, which I had noticed him treating the competition as if it were adult summer camp. I had just assumed since he was old, he didn’t care if he had died or not.

I think most people will think that this show was a metaphor about how money and rich people are evil. However I think it can be seen as commentary on society as a whole, not just the wealthy. Yeong-su says on his death bed that it’s a test of humanity, and asks Gi-hun if he still has faith in humanity after what he has experienced. Although money was the luring motivator to win the game, people still chose to return to the competition to escape their problems. Sure, money was apart of their problems as all of the players (excluding Yeong-su) were in debt, but that was due to choices that they had made. Whether it had been through embezzling, gambling, lack of luck, or financial ignorance, it was the people who had gotten themselves into those situations. Money doesn’t have a personal vendetta against anyone nor does it have an inherent quality of good or evil. Money is a neutral energy used to be exchanged for goods and services. It’s people who designate that energy to their humane or inhumane desires.

Leading to the next point of the wealthy and how they are seen to be evil due to having wealth. Although I do believe that there are some wealthy people who act as villains, money didn’t create the villain inside of them. Those people were going to behave maliciously whether they have money or not. The VIPs, who were spectating the finale of challenges, were tied to a bank devoted to the wealthy and gambled on the competitors who played (and most likely helped subsidize the events). We place judgement on them, but as Yeong-su said, people gamble on horse races. Although people are not animals and by my knowledge I don’t believe most or any horses die during these races, it is still the principle of watching an entity being tortured for amusement, which is not only confined to the wealthy population. When the concept of killing and tormenting living breathing beings for amusement is normalized within society, the lines begin to blur on who is okay to perform and who is not. Take the audience of this show for example, we all watched a show where hundreds of people were mercilessly killed for the desire of winning a cash prize for our own amusement, thus making “Squid Game” the number one show on Netflix at the moment. Although the show is fictional and brilliantly written, this Hunger Games concept is not new. We come in contact again and again with the idea of people who are disadvantaged given an opportunity to better their lives through inhumane means, including risking their own lives or actively sacrificing the life of another, and being spectators on the edge of our seats who can’t seem to look away. It is no different than a Roman gladiator match in a grand colosseum, which in modern day would be a MMA fight at the MGM hotel. We blame it on the rich who are ridiculed for creating these events, but at the end of the day it is the people, rich,poor, and everyone in between, who continue to still go along with it and to some extent desire it. Which makes me question, what does that say about humanity, and do I actually have faith in us? Although Gi-hun went through hell and back, he still remained pure of heart and used his wealth to enhance his life and those around him; proving that wealthy people can still be benevolent and desire righteous good. Similar to Gi-hun, the optimist in me wants to believe that there are still people in this world with good hearts, but I guess we just have to wait until the time comes to see.

Ultimately the show was phenomenal, and definitely sparked a desire inside of me to watch more Korean dramas. I don’t think the show will have a second season. Simply because I think the story line would be better cut off there, thus leaving the audience always wanting more. However if season 2 ever comes out, I’m ready for Gi-hun to take a Liam Neeson approach to ending the Squid Game and hopefully with a beard. Thank you for reading my article. I know it was incredibly lengthy. I have just finished the season after a 2 day binge watch, and have a lot of emotions and thoughts ruminating in my brain. Let me know what you think of the show and what you think of the article. Did anyone else notice the paintings of the games on the walls of the dormitory?

God bless.

#squid game #netflix #review #korean drama #kdrama #series review #web series

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amysteryspot · 5 years ago

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Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

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