#24 Hour Catwalk

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[louisupdates]

[Translated from Spanish]

Louis Tomlinson surrenders to the Chilean public: “They have given me so many incredible memories”

The artist presented a handful of pop rock songs on the cold capital night of May 24 that was filled with youth and music. The British debut at the Bicentenario La Florida Stadium was an example of the unique connection he has achieved with his local fans; coming from the other side of the world, he already feels at home: the public was an extension of his songs, they gave the performer a show within his own show, and not everyone can tell that.

Paloma Pareja | Saturday, May 25, 2024 at 3:23 p.m.

How to begin to describe the relationship between Louis Tomlinson and Chile? Well, from the beginning. Many may not know it, but after One Direction broke up in 2015 and each member went their own way, he was waiting for everything to go back to the way it was before, but that never happened. So he began to think alone, he was in fact the last of his colleagues to do so, but all that time in pause he had a nice reward, and then came Chile.

In 2022, and on his first world tour with this new career that started from scratch, he had an album under his arms called “Walls” and the confidence that he was doing the right thing, thus filling the Movistar Arena three times. Who can join this exclusive list? Luis Miguel, Romeo Santos, Ricardo Arjona, Simply Red.

Not only that, his national audience rewarded him with one of the most moving surprises of his years in the industry, a fan project that was repeated the night of this May 24 at the Bicentenario La Florida Stadium, his debut at the venue with the “Faith in the Future World Tour.”

KILL MY MIND

After 9:00 p.m. he stepped on stage, the cold of the capitol hit deep, he rubbed his hands constantly to warm up and was grateful that they were there despite the low temperature, but the energy of the people was more imposing than any polar wave.

The time came for “Kill My Mind”, the second song of the night, the entire audience moved their lights from top to bottom, they knew what was coming, they had already experienced it before and they enjoyed it. But what he did not suspect is that it would not end there.

The Chileans managed to move him on two more occasions. In the song “Chicago”, the audience raised signs with a phrase from the chorus: “if you're lonely in Chicago, you can call me, baby”, changing the city of Chicago for Santiago, and finally, Louis himself surrendered to such show of affection and ended it by singing: “If you feel alone in Santiago, you can call me, baby”; in English, of course.

And then it was the turn of “Copy of a Copy of a Copy”, where the stadium was divided into three sections to show blue lights from their cell phones. Louis was stunned, once again he had been left speechless. Can anyone surpass the national audience? In this pass, difficult.

AT ITS BEST

For about two hours, the star took a tour of his musical evolution, including two One Direction covers and also “505” by Arctic Monkeys. There was a catwalk but it did not occupy it as much as expected, also pyrotechnics and the classic confetti that has become a must at shows.

The song “Mijito Rico” could not be left out, a must-see on these special occasions, but he did not pay much attention to it and continued with his programming, he took the time to thank on several occasions for everything that was happening, which was nothing more than a shared experience, because the fans made an extension of his songs, they gave him a show within his own show and not everyone can tell that.

Finally, he left the stage with a smile on his face, with the conviction that he had made it once again. A month ago he confessed to La Cuarta that before he did not like to give himself those moments of enjoyment of success, but that he started doing it.

“They have given me so many incredible memories,” was one of the phrases he released, and well, he has also given incredible memories to his followers. All that remains is to say, until next time Louis, this is your home now.

[vikersund]

Hi! I hope this post won't flop </3

first of all I wanted to finally reveal myself on this platform - many of you know me as Himbeertee_ on tiktok and twitter, Hello! Yes, I'm also here :P

I felt like last few days were like a fever dream - so I decided to write a summary/recap of my journey to Stozice.

It was not my first Joker Out show, last month I was in Żalec and both times I traveled by train and bus, so if anyone wonders how to get to Slovenia from Poland - the cheapest way is by Flixbus, but the fastest is by plane. I spent 5 hours in train and 11 hours in bus and it was only one way ride.

Me and my friend arrived at the arena around 4pm and we were 24/25 in the queue and we ended up at barricade in front of Kris, thanks to long catwalk and very long barricade. (I wanted to be at Kris' side, because duuuh i'm a Kris girlie).

If it comes to new merch - there were new winter beanies, new shirts, hoodies, socks, UM and Demoni CD's, condoms, new notebook (juhuhu hahaha), new tote bags and if you ask me... well.. those shirts didn't look good at least for me, but the rest of it was fine. I bought baby boos socks, because (to the unpopular opinion) I love the name xD

If it comes to the show alone, I will try to describe few songs. As you might have seen on twitter I managed to get the setlist (which was leaked at least day before - and unfortunately i saw some of it so I didnt experience the surprise).

The live-from-backstage intro was so cool, like I had chills, the screen was turning from the backstage to black screen or to joker out sign with the music that made your heart beat to it, it definitely built an atmosphere, we saw Jo getting ready to rock the stage, Kris leading the 5 of them to the stage from backstage, then they finally came from behind drums, which was such a cool entrance!

First song was Sunny Side of London - and now I understand that they picked it as an opener because of the "welcome" at the beginning, but when I first heard it i was kinda sceptical why is this the first song. People from the brass band joined them for the iconic balcan solo (dare I say - Kris outwhored himself during the solo).

Then we screamed for the record and we beat it, but honestly I think that the result should be higher, but because it was such an open space, the device didnt gather the sound as good as in smaller venues.

Then gola and bele sanje - honestly don't remember much of it because I was enjoying myself, maybe a little too much, but the guitar transition from bele sanje to plastika was sooooo good.

Plastika oh plastika! This song is made for concerts, everyone were screaming their lungs off and Bojan was everywhere, including the cat walk.

Proti toku - what can I say other than justice for Proti Toku! Like i dont understand why they abandoned this song at the shows...

As you already know I was at Kris' side and I had the best view on him, let me tell you. This man didn't hold back during dopamin, his moves were electric and there should be another twitter account "Kris shuffles to:"

Padam - Bojan sang the song laying on the catwalk for the entire length of the song and for a moment I was so confused where he went, because I didn't see him at first.

Then after Padam we had a small break, that included screenings of pre-eurovision clips from their vlogs and during that everyone was lying on the stage (not sure about Jure tho).

Then demoni happened and the Iconic scream was... well... demonic xD Bojan ended up almost on all fours in front of 12k audience. You're welcome or something.

Katrina - is another song which was made to being played on stage. I loved the red and white lights especially, bojan was very slutty and we were introduced to releasing fumes from the pyro stuff (not real pyro or fire on their show in Stozice).

ASTP - AMAZING intro played by a dude with trumpet, I had chills, Bojan was sitting on his knees on the stage, listening to it. I'll try to upload it to tiktok later! It is one of my fav songs. Great vocals from Bojan and Kris, the second one was very slutty af during the song (who is surprised at this point?). No Janace ending, Jan ended the song playing at the end of catwalk, nice moment between Nace and Bojan.

Omamljeno Telo - well this is the only JO song that I am not that much a fan of, but they definitely delivered their perfomance, especially when everyone went to the catwalk. We had Kris/Nace moment during the song.

Kot Srce Ki Kri Poganja - will you banish me If I tell you that I have never heard any of their unreleased songs?

Anyway I LOVED THIS SONG, can they release it on new album please? I already knew that Martin will join them because I saw pics from backstage before the show, but I was surprised to see Matic there. This songs slaps and I fell in love with the vibe martin gave while playing the bass. I couldnt stop staring at him, he was magnetic and so happy to play with others. I might cry a little when Nace gave him his bass. I loved how everyone was hugging each other before and after the song. Such a heartwarming moment, even if Martin doesnt play anymore, you could definitely see that he is still part of the family <3

Metulji - amazing perfomance, again they delivered, love the song, also amazing Jan solo at the end of the song, kinda improvised i think? At least I have never heard those sounds before.

Vse Kar Vem - well, you know who I was focused on xD I guess I have a new Vse Kar Vem iconic video for you xD

NGVOT - before the song I was wondering if they will do Tavastia 2.0 with ngvot and the scream i I let out when I saw that Bojan was far from the mic, far enough to be late to start singing the song if he had to, and then I turned to look at Kris and I already knew. This is all I've been asking for. I'm so glad that Kris is more comfortable to sing the first verse, his voice was more relaxed, less shaky than in Tavastia, I loved the way he sang "ti pa barvo las" the way Bojan does. But I still think he has to work a little bit on his voice, because I know he CAN sing (from other videos). I wonder if they will leave this song as a duet for other shows in the future or If it was like one-time thing.

Vem Da Gres - all I remember was Nace on our side and how handsome he looked. I'm not a Nace girlie, but I can definitely see why others are, and his new hair and the outfit... asdfgrew

Ne Bi Smel - this time Jan joined our side and he had a nice moment with Bojan

Ona - Another time when men from brass band joined and it was the song which had changed arrangement. I loved it. the whole vibe of the song stayed the same, but the brass instruments elevated it. (If i think about any fuck ups during the show - it happened here - the mic of the Saxophone guy didnt work at first, I've heard him from the front row, but idk if people in the back have heard him). During this song they also showed me and my friend on the screen and i cant stop thinking about how the hell it happened xD Now i am immortal in joker out stozice lore xD

Tokio - honestly don't remember what was happening - probably I was just screaming and singing.

Umazane Misli - i loved it. I LOVED IT. The way Bojan was demanding the audience who and when should they sing, and then he came down to us and let 2 people sing, and he received the THREE KAKSI ANANAS LONKERO shirt and he loved it so much, he was so smiley and took this shirt with him on the stage.

Novi val - I almost cried. This is my fav song, and thanks to Joker Out Subs and Spela the project came true, the coloful lights flashed beautifully above boy's heads. We and them were touched and it was such a special moment. At the beginning of Novi Val Jure came to our side and we could see his outfit from the closer proximity, and dare I say it was second best after Kris'.

Last but not least - Carpe Diem. After novi val they left the stage, but everyone knew it wasnt over. The break was too long and It just clicked in my head that what if they are changing into their Eurovision clothes. AND THEY DID. I just predicted it seconds before it happened. It was unreal - like i just travelled back in time 5 months.

Overall it was the best night of my life. Everything was perfect. The lights were amazing. The stage was amazing. Clothes - god, the amount of details on each outfit! Personally I think Kris and Jure had the best outfits. I couldnt really see Jan and Nace outfit details, but the looked GOOD. But if I have to complain - not a fan of detachable sleeves on Bojan's shirt.

They all delivered their performances. Not a single mistake - i am so impressed because thats a skill.

We all agree that Kris outdid himself that night. The way he moved, the way he sang, the way he was SO CONFIDENT. Like he was born to be in that exact moment.

I also loved every single interaction between boys, the group ones, or the doubles. Maybe there was no Jan and Nace astp ending but they had few moments. It was so nice to see Jan and Bojan jamming together, Kris and Nace doing their thing, Bojan and Kris' little shenanigans and even Jure and Jan had their moment when Jan ran to him at the beginning of the show.

I also love how they had movie-like credits. Everyone from their crew was credited, every person who worked on the show, team of photographers etc.

Other thing was how nice it was to being supplied with water all the time. The people behind barricade were giving us cups with water all the time, and even at the end of the show we got whole bottles.

Please don't take this post as a proper review - these are just my thoughts of the show <3

[fnaffancontentbutmostlyglamrocks]

Going over Glamrock Bonnie's dissaperance with a fine-tooth comb

Missing Message

"SECURITY REPORT - 12:24AM - Bonnie is seen leaving his green room in Rockstar Row heading East towards the atrium. 2:40AM - Bonnie enters the East Arcade. 4:12AM - Bonnie enters Monty Golf."

I'll break this message down, as it's the most important. At 12:24 AM, 24 minutes after closing, Bonnie heads to the atrium from his Green Room in Rockstar Row. 2 hrs and 16 minutes later, He is seen entering the East Arcade. That is two floors above the entrances to Monty Golf. On the opposite side, 1 hour and 32 minutes later, at 4:12, Bonnie is last seen entering Monty Golf.

I've mentioned how long it took Bonnie to do each activity because time isn't literal in Security Breach. The time it takes us to reach point A to point B seems real-time. The animatronics are quick, even when walking. They have a decent speed, but there was a lot of time taken for what should have been short trips. That and the East Arcade is such a strange detour. It is nowhere near the entrance to Monty Golf on the first floor. It's on the third floor, too The only way to Monty Golf on that floor is the Mazercise Vent, And I doubt Bonnie's double-upped thick ass could fit also. We have no mention of him going to Mazercise either. He most likely entered through the front entrance of Monty Golf, Getting to the catwalks By using the ladder built into the scaffolding, Assuming he even went up there.

Going back to the message about Monty falling and breaking his legs. It just states that someone had once scored the hole-in-one, activating the Hurricane bucket. While it's assumed to be a patron during opening hours. There's nothing to indicate it couldn't be an employee or something else after hours. 

Strangely enough, Despite being last seen in Monty Golf, His body is found in Bonnie Bowl. With all that said, We should be focusing on the details that are left out of this message. There is a lack of information on what Bonnie was doing in each room. Why did it take so long to reach each destination? Why did he stop at the East Arcade? Why does it end in Monty Golf despite the fact that even if Bonnie was incapacitated there and then moved to Bonnie Bowl to finish the job? Shouldn't that have been noticed? Say it was. Then why wasn't it reported?

Another thing I want to mention is that Monty Golf is Monty's attraction. The animatronics are not stuck in their own attractions or rooms. Anyone. Freddy, Chica, Roxy, Monty, Vanessa, Vanny, Sun/Moon, Staff bots, and even an Endo could have been in Monty Golf at that time.

Bonnie Bowl Vent

The trippy AR vent that you go in to exit Bonnie's room has a Monty plush wet floor Bot and a Fazer blast gun. A Bonnie Plush connects to Vanny's hideout in Fazerblast. The obvious connection is Monty, Bonnie, and the wet floor bots.

I think the one worth looking into more is the Fazer Blast gun, which is associated with GlamRock Freddy. It's also associated with Vanny, as Fazerblast is where her hideout is. Plus, the vent leads directly to her hideout. It does seem there's a connection between Bonnie and these elements.

The Crime Scene

Starting at the entrance: There is a small blue shard There is a broken brick wall Along with a small caveish structure, and then another broken wall Wood structure seems to indicate their might've been a door or hall here A path of wooden crates leads you to the bodyThere is a wire on one of these crates There's piles of broken pins There is a metal shelf with Bowling balls on it There's a shorter shelf with bowling balls on the other side To the left of it, is the hole where bowling balls would come in Covered with wooden boards haphazardly nailed on Next to that is a Bonnie Bowl Graphic There are marks from the boxes to where Bonnie is Near the body's head is a Bowling ball that is shattered into 3 large segments The body is laid on a carpet We'll examine the body and carpet later Pieces of what I assume are from Bonnie's endoskeleton and staff bot pieces are thrown across the room There is a white crack on the wall, and a smear of black streaks down the wall and floor Almost as if something hit it, and was dragged down This mark leads to Bonnie, and is on top of the rug too There's streak marks from bonnie's body to where a vent is Opposite of where the other mark is by the entrance. A makeshift staircase to a vent was made. On the vent panel that's being used as a ramp, you can see these drag marks that appear to be from the rust that's also seen on the rug. This vent lets you get outside of the room.

Bonnie "Other" Green Room

There's a charging port that looks like it was torn open from the outside. There's a vent gate hidden next to it. Presumably, the one that would have blocked the vent hidden by the poster on a tool cart is a broken staff bot with marks and indentions. There are actually a few of these staff bots in this room.

Examining the body

Any good murder mystery has a body examination. I'll break the body down into parts. The face has a large gash on the left side with a wire sticking out. There is an indention on the muzzle on the left side. The left ear is damaged with chunks missing, While the right ear is missing. The right arm is removed from the chest and is segmented into the forearm and upper arm. The left arm is damaged like the rest of the body but attached. The chest has nearly the entire middle part of the shell ripped open. It looks like the chest was hit by someone with claws and then pulled apart. There are Multiple scratch marks on the chest itself. There are wires sticking out of the chest. Both legs are bisected at the crotch, upper leg, and lower leg. It appears the legs were beaten in or were crumpled. Otherwise, besides the chest, head, and legs, the whole body is just cracked and dirty.

The Green Substance

Uh-oh, this is it, The damning evidence that proved Monty did it. Yeah, you all hear my sarcasm. A lot of speculation I've seen is that this is either green paint somehow from Monty. I'm sorry, that just doesn't track. You're telling me Monty went in with ONLY Green wet paint. Attacked Bonnie and managed to get paint only on this one specific spot. Magically, nothing else. Plus, why, though? This is the only "Monty" guilty evidence I will not even give the time of day to humor as an option. It takes a minimal level of critical thinking to showcase why it makes little sense. Also, debunking this doesn't magically make Monty innocent; it just opens things up more.

I've found another possibility that makes sense besides it just being an undercoat from Bonnie. Looking closely at the mark. I noticed it has a star-like shape from Plushies, Pinatas, and Cutouts. We can see that Bonnie has a gold star on his chest. I'll use Freddy to help prove my point. Throughout Security Breach, Freddy becomes more disheveled as the game goes on. At Hour 0, when the game first started, His lighting Bolt is a bright blue. As the game progresses, this bolt slowly starts to get dirty and fade away. It's not just the bolt, either. Suppose you compare Freddy's face markings from Hour Zero to the late game. They are also fading away. This makes it clear that while the animatronic models may have base casings that are pre-colored, Any markings or makeup are then painted on. We can even see cans of paint in the hallways of the animatronics greenrooms Throughout the game, even before shattering, These marks are slowly fading away. If you look at Bonnie's body, it has these purple and blue marks that are also faded, So his star is likely painted on, too.

I do have an explanation for why this yellow or gold appears green from what we can see from cutouts and plushies. This star is gold and shiny. Appearing metallic in texture. When gold paint is not properly maintained, a possible result that can happen is lustrous gold turning a greenish color. This is called Verdigris. This is a result of the gold being mixed with other alloys. Primarily copper. I'm being bold here and assuming Fazbear Entertainment is not using pure gold to decorate Bonnie.

Drag Marks

The streak mark from Bonnie's body to the exit is the exact same dimension as the wooden crates. The smaller streak even matches the smaller crate. The marks on the way to the vent appear to be the right size for the thing under the orange tarp. Then, you have these makeshift steps leading to the vent. It's apparent these things were dragged around to make these stairs. Who would need to make these steps? Well, judging by the marks we see on the vent being used as a ramp, The staff bots.

The Rug

There is a rug under Bonnie's body. The drag marks are on top of it, And the markings are flush with what appears on the wood floor, Meaning that every mark on this carpet happened in this room. This is also why I think a struggle happened here, too. What I want to focus on is the pattern on it. People claim it's found in Monty Golf. Does this mean the culprit cut a part of Monty's golf's carpet to move the body? I really doubt it. It is a perfect rectangle. It's actually one of the rugs you can find in the East Arcade. The rugs are pre-cut with this rectangular shape And have a design pattern exactly like the one Bonnie is found on. This carpet came from the East Arcade, Not from Monty Golf.

Monty replaced Bonnie before he even disappeared.

Monty was already a Glamrock, while Bonnie was active. One proof of that is in the sealed room where Bonnie is. On the shelf are bowling balls with Freddy, Chica, and Roxy. You'd think there would be ones with Bonnie, but Instead, there are only ones with Monty. Also, notice who doesn't have a custom Bowling Ball either: The Daycare attendant or DJ Music Man, Both of whom are not in the band but have their own section of the plex. So by transitive law, Seeing that Monty has a bowling ball at this point, But not Bonnie. That must mean Monty is in the band and has replaced Bonnie, But Bonnie is still active and has his own section.

Bonnie has a private Green room in his attraction. No other glamrock animatronic has this. Not even Freddy. We also know from the missing messages Bonnie used to have a green room in RockStar Row. It doesn't make sense for the company to make a new private Green Room with its own charging port and install decorations for an animatronic they plan to eliminate. Or for one that went missing and they can't use it. When you consider that the understudy message states Bonnie is out of commission and not necessarily missing or permanently broken, Then with the knowledge that Monty can at least fill in the roles of other bandmates like Freddy. Monty could have replaced Bonnie. While Bonnie was still around, This does take away Monty's main motive for wanting to destroy Bonnie Well, almost. There is the possibility he'd do anything to keep this position. We also now have a reason for Bonnie to attempt something.

Fazbear is complacent

In order for this crime to work, Fazbear Entertainment has to be complacent in some way, Or someone with the power to control what the company does is responsible. Bonnie's body is in a location that, while light, must've had some foot traffic. Someone should have come across this body, and the only way in and out of this large room couldn't have just been the vent. There had to have been a proper door or something at one point when we pieced together that there had to be some way to get back there. Plus, there was the probability that Bonnie Bowl was remodeled in relation to the cover-up. I think part of that remodeling was blocking off this room. Bonnie was never missing. He was hidden.

Monty, Chica, and Roxy are innocent.

While the staff bots could do most of the damage seen on Bonnie, Including prying open the Charging port door, There are scratch marks on the body, too. And those staff bots don't have claws. Then that leaves us with Monty, Roxy, and Freddy as the ones who could do this damage. Chicas is safe, as she doesn't have claws. 

I think they're all innocent in terms of what happened before Bonnie got to Monty Golf. Including the one I think is responsible. Part of that is because of the state that the charging station is in; something ripped it open. 

I'm sorry, but if Monty, Roxy, or Freddy lured Bonnie into Monty Golf and attempted to destroy him there. Then they…..let him go all the way back into Bonnie Bowl and recharge? Then go there, rip him out, And finish him off there? Sure, suspension of disbelief and all that, But that's a lot of suspension. This has me thinking that Bonnie was completely fine, or at least in a position to think he would be able to safely get away from Monty Golf without anyone following him And go into his charging port like nothing happened. Until he was ripped out, And besides the staff bots, There's only one Glamrock that makes sense to do this, Freddy.

Freddy?!

I know. As a suspect, He makes the least amount of sense. He's the lead star, plus he was close to Bonnie. Why would he hurt him? I have some possible answers. Both are equally tragic. One is that it is annoyingly glossed over. He was under Vanny's control. If she wanted to, She could use him to destroy Bonnie. Leaving him powerless to do anything. The other is that Bonnie really was dangerous, and Freddy found out. Maybe he came across Monty's damaged body Or started to notice Bonnie was acting Differently. Once he realized the Bonnie he knew was gone, Replaced by a complete monster. He had to make the decision to put that thing down.

Afterward, Fazbear or Vanny realized what had happened and did everything they could to cover it up. Which, if that's the answer to this crime. That is some juicy drama. Now, there is still the possibility Bonnie was scratched before he got into the charging port, And only the staff bots were used to take care of him.

Monty?

I'm gonna be real. While he is connected, A lot of the things related to him seem to be related to Monty Golf and that he's Bonnie's replacement and not actually Monty himself being responsible. The only thing that could connect him is the claw marks. That could also have been done by Freddy, Roxy, hell, even the Endos, and assuming it is a separate animatronic, the Freddy Prototype, All of whom have claws. 

In fact, it makes more sense to me that he's a victim. While I wanted to give a reason for why he could be innocent or guilty, The closest I can see him involved is that Bonnie tried to destroy him in Monty Golf. Under control or not, it doesn't matter, And Monty was able to retaliate. Damaging Bonnie before he went down. 

Solving the crime

The crime can not be solved, And while I have tried to brainstorm the different ways it could have gone, No matter how close I get, There's always something that I can't explain. The only thing I'm fairly confident about is Monty being a red herring. Everything else. I'm stumped on

 I think that's the point. This crime can't be solved yet Because we don't have every clue, And in an interesting twist, we know what that last clue is. We just don't have the means to analyze it yet. That AR inhibitor in the Gondola ride was shown for a reason. Once that is revealed, This whole case will be solved, And considering RUIN ended on a cliffhanger, Who's to say the mystery of what happened isn't either.

[keldabekush]

its 2:46 am and you just made it home from your shift at the 24 hour Spurger King (Space Burger King).

you kick off your grease-eaten work shoes and flick on the radio for some background noise while you struggle out of your ugly fucking polo shirt that will never not smell like hot fat and sweat no matter how many times you wash it and your jeans that have split at the crotch four times, including tonight.

The radio sputters to life, gushing static and fits because you knocked it off your dresser this morning in your hurry out the door, so you adjust the dial until the crackling stops and a voice emerges from the wall of fizz; three days to go til the end of the week, folks, its not looking so bad -

the voice is still a little distorted and you fiddle with the dial for a frustrating handful of seconds til you realise the DJ is just using a voice filter, and there’s nothing wrong with your signal. it’s some program in Basic, just a guy talking away in the typical cadence that most late-night DJ’s adopt - ebbing and dipping rhythmically like circular breath - and you zone out to the steady flow of the one-way conversation, voice filter and all. The sibilant sounds are a gentle fuzz, buffed out by the filter and the signal interference and you fiddle with threading the emergency needle you keep in your sock drawer, performing first-aid once again on your franken-jeans.

the DJ talks about the upcoming weather. complains about construction going on in level two-oh-seven-four that blocks off the main catwalk, plays a couple of easy-listening tracks. It’s easy to let the program fade into the sound of traffic outside the shatterproof crystaplast window as you get lost in the simple repetition of stitching the tear shut for another day of work tomorrow.

It feels like a long time later that you finally realise that the air has gone dead - but the weird half-unconscious-still-functioning doze you’ve lulled yourself into means you aren’t sure how long its been, actually, since the DJ stopped talking, because you only realize it in increments.

You must have missed them signing off for the night.

You listen to the traffic and the gentle crackle of the dead air until you tie off the thread and throw your jeans at the corner of the room. You’ll leave the radio on, you think; the static helps you sleep, and you can’t bring yourself to reach all the way over there anyway.

You’re almost all the way asleep already when the voice whispers over the waves again, softly.

Good luck out there.

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on AO3

Master List

Chapter Playlist & 2

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: Violet learns the full scope of the system repairs needed, and has a tough conversation.

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Scarf

Doctor Devrin Roshni Johal could eat a giant bag of Spartan-sized dicks. And he could choke on every single last one as far as Violet was concerned. After spending four days cleaning up the mess he had made out of Persephone, she was ready to force feed them to him herself.

Violet grit her teeth as she looked over the diagnostic results of the most recent calibration. All results had come back the same after the day of work spent beside her team in the greenhouses. She had spent hours undoing all of the corrective work Dev had done to try to bring the systems back online before he had finally swallowed the enormous pill that was his pride and reached out to her for help. The corrections had done more damage than good she had found, and from her conversations with the team, had also found that he had been warned against it by all of them. Typical Devrin, she thought, always has to be the smartest asshole in the room. 

Yet, she would be lying if she didn’t admit that it was the most she had enjoyed her work in months as she as they worked in the small space, laughing at Bastian and Saul’s jokes and being disgusted by Meredith’s stories as Jin tuned them all out and Lief explained the campaigns he had planned for the fantasy roleplay game they used to all play together on Thursdays. The greenhouses she oversaw at FLEETCOM were three times the size of the ones she had attended to during her four years at Demeter, but the massive structures had lacked the same heart that Violet felt as she worked along the team the rest of the base had nicknamed Geek Squad a few years back. Each one of them had made her a better scientist, and she loved all of them like family. Leaving them had been the hardest part when she went back to Reach. 

Violet paced the rows of low planters that should have been filled with green as she looked over the results. She couldn’t bring herself to look down as she paced to the boxes of soil by her feet. She hadn’t seen them empty in years. Each row of brown twisted her chest as she passed them, a relic to her failure that had left them empty. She wished she had never left as she allowed herself a quick glance down. She could have prevented this if she had. This system had been her baby, she should have been here to care for it rather than leaving it to a negligent caretaker. There had been a time she had thought she would never leave. Back in those early weeks on Reach, she had even considered going back. 

She swallowed down the lump that began to form in her throat as she reached the opposite end of the empty greenhouse and stopped. She turned and looked over the barren planters as she lowered her pad and pushed out the dread that threatened to settle in her, taking a deep breath. She didn’t have time to cry- she had too much shit to do.

She swiped up the volume bar on her pad, the gritty rock playlist she had selected for the night blaring through the speaker system of the empty structure. The team had broken for dinner hours ago at Violet’s instruction. They all worked tirelessly over the past four days; up at the crack of dawn to head into the greenhouses until far after the sun dipped below the horizon. Violet would stay long past after they all returned to their rooms in the installation to continue her work. John would visit her once everyone left, providing her with his silent comfort as she volleyed between ionic generators on the catwalks that lined the ceilings. She had teased him relentlessly after his meddling to attend with her, but in the nights they had spent together, John silently watching as she worked, she couldn’t imagine being there without him. His presence tethered her, grounding her to herself in that steady way she had come to depend upon. She never felt more at peace, more like herself than she did in those moments that they said absolutely nothing.

The rest of the team would come with him sometimes; Riz would sit and read while Kai and Vannak bickered and found things to distract themselves with. Occasionally, Vannak would shout out something she was doing wrong, and Violet would stick her tongue out and make the adjustment rather than admit he had been correct. Violet only smiled as she listened to the four of them; she had always wanted more siblings, especially a brother.

Violet tucked her pad into the waistband of her pants and started up the rickety metal ladder to the catwalks. Night had fallen outside the panes of the structure, the arid desert temperatures dropping as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. It remained sticky warm in the greenhouses as she worked, Violet shedding her long sleeve for the tank top she wore underneath. Each step filled the empty structure with metallic ringing that echoed through it over her music. 

She stepped up onto the platform and pulled out her pad as she neared the ionic generators that Lief and Bastian had left open when they returned to the installation that evening. The generators didn’t look like much to an outsider; both no bigger than an average suitcase. But both acted as the catalyst for the ionic bonding that would bring plants sprouting from the soil in a matter of minutes. They laid open under the glow of the fluorescent lights like the bellies of some dissected animal, wires and parts exposed to her as she looked over them. She had no engineering training, that had always been Lief and Bastian’s area of expertise, but she had enough understanding of the systems she had devoted her mid twenties to as her eyes scanned over the scramble of machinery. 

She blew her bangs out of her face, wisps of hair that had escaped from the crown she had woven her hair into sticking to her face in the humidity of the structure. John had joked that she emulated the goddess the project was named after the night before when he visited her in the greenhouse, tugging gently at her bangs that had begun to grow too long. She had shrugged off the compliment, explaining that she just needed her hair out her face with a smile. She looked over the diagnostic results again, identifying which sections of renderings of the generators on her screen glowed a bright red before her hands sunk into the first generator.

“Goose!”

Violet didn’t need to look up to know that John stood below her, the rich timbre of his voice cutting over the blare of her music. She continued to sort through the wires, double checking that each had been correctly placed in accordance with rendering. She glanced down to where he stood, still fully armored, a plate in hand as he stared up at her with a tinge of disappointment in his hazel eyes. She glanced at the time on her pad and braced herself for the lecture she knew would come with the late hour.

“I know, I missed dinner,” she called down, “I just need fifteen more minutes.”

“You need to eat, goose.” 

“I’ll eat when they can eat,” she muttered out. Her fingers came into contact with one of the wires and a sharp jolt ran up her arm. She let go of it with a gasp and shook out her tingling hand, “Fuck!”

John looked up at her and shook his head, “Didn’t realize that being a botanist made you a mechanical engineer as well.”

“What can I say,” she said, hands delving back into the machine again, “You chose a woman of many talents. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” he agreed, “Get down here and eat. Meredith sent me with your dinner.”

“Just leave it. I’ll eat when I’m done. Why don’t you head to bed, baby, I’ll-.”

“Goose,” he interrupted, his voice the authoritative rumble that made it a command instead of a request, “Don’t ‘baby’ me. Get down here. Now.”

Violet leaned over the edge of the catwalk to meet his hard unwavering stare. He tilted his head in direction to the spot in front of him, making it clear that he was uninterested in repeating himself. Violet sighed, feet clanging against metal as she trudged back to the ladder and made her descent down the rungs. John stepped to the base of the ladder and pressed a hand to her back to steady her. He took her by the waist as she got to the fifth rung from the bottom and lifted her gently, setting her down in front of him and holding the plate out to her. 

She took the plate from him, snatching up the fork that rested on it and jabbing it at him with a pointed look, “Don’t use your Master Chief voice with me.” 

“I’ll stop using it when it stops working,” he smirked, “Eat.”

Violet rolled her eyes and stabbed at the now cold food. She ate at a speed that she was sure was unattractive to watch as she realized how hungry she was. When was the last time she ate? Lunch? No… breakfast maybe? Jesus, that had been over twelve hours ago, she thought. Maybe he had a point. John watched as she shoveled down the food, arms crossed smuggly.

“How was Meredith?” she asked through a full mouth.

John sighed. She smiled slightly at the thought of him interacting with Meredith, who seemed to be even more feral than usual when confronted in her natural habitat. “She was Meredith,” he said carefully.

“Oof, that bad?”

“She asked about Vannak’s…situation,” he sighed. Violet covered her mouth as she chuckled at her friend’s brash lack of tact, “Riz handled it.”

“I’m sure she did,” Violet laughed, unsurprised that her friend was already sniffing out ways to get her own Spartan, too. She brought the last forkful to her mouth and held the plate back out to him, “There. I ate. I need fifteen more minutes and then I’ll head out for the night. Okay? I promise. I love you, goodnight.”

She pressed a kiss to her fingers and touched his cheek, unable to reach his jaw with the additional height his armor gave him. She turned away from him to move back towards the ladder, but John caught her by the back of her shirt and tugged her back to him.

“It’s 10:30, Violet. You’re not going to accomplish anything further tonight. You need to eat, shower, and get some rest,” he held his hand out, “And give me the damn pad. Cortana told me you’re working in bed. That’s an order.” 

She glowered up at him, but John continued to hold his hand out expectantly. She sighed as she relented and set her pad into his palm, “Tell Cortana she’s a dirty snitch. She can make it up to me by helping me out tomorrow night if I still haven’t gotten anywhere.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” he chuckled, “Any luck with the repairs?”

“No,” she sighed, “Dev’s ‘repairs’ made it a bigger fucking mess than I expected. So now it's a full rebuild of the system instead of just a few fixes. I never should have left him to oversee it- he never believed in this work quite liked the rest of us. I should have stayed here and seen this through. It's my fault that we’re in this position in the first place; if I had stayed, the system would still be running, those people wouldn’t be going hungry.” 

She turned towards the empty planters again, staring out at the tilled soil. She blinked back tears and sniffled as she wiped her face with the heel of her palm. John’s gloved fingers followed the path of her own as he wiped the streak of grime she had left behind from her cheek.

“Don’t say that.” 

“They were depending on me, John,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“There’s always going to be people who need you, Vi,” he said gently, cupping her face in his hand. She leaned into the touch, wishing she felt the warmth of his skin on her own rather than the scratch of his gloves. “You can’t get hung up on each one.” 

“Do you?” 

“I save who I can. I can’t afford to get hung up on the ones I couldn’t.” 

His curt words hung between them, painfully serious as they slipped from his tongue. Violet heard the emotion that laced his tone like a footnote. She wondered just how many he had been unable to save and if it haunted him the way this did her. She had found the weight she carried the past few weeks to be heavier than she had thought herself to carry, but she realized as she looked up at him in that green armor how insignificant it was compared to the one he burdened. If he could shoulder the galaxy, she could surely shoulder this. Maybe he could be her strength, too. Her fingers curled around the cool metal of his gauntlet as she met those soft eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here, big guy,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his palm. John leaned down to press his brow to hers, Violet’s hands finding his face as her eyes fluttered shut and she felt at home for the first time in days.

“Me too, goose.” 

---

Her tiny room in the installation made her miss their apartment more than she already had. She couldn’t fathom how she had lived in the room as long as she did, much less with a dog. Her college dorms had been bigger than the room she had called home. Violet sat on the twin bed as she towel dried her hair, steam still billowing out of the bathroom door. John had been right. She felt like she was wearing a new skin after showering all of the grime off of her. She tossed the towel over the back of the chair of the desk that sat in the corner before rising from the bed. She had a difficult time sleeping in it; the small bed felt too big without him beside her and the room was too quiet without the sound of both his and Sadie’s synchronized snoring. The goodnight kiss they had shared in the privacy of the greenhouses hadn’t been enough. She considered sneaking off to the Condor to sleep with him for the night rather than occupying her own room. She couldn’t wait to go home.

She gave her damp hair a quick shake with her fingers as she crossed the room to the door. The door opened into the communal space they all shared; a modest rec room and kitchen they prepared their meals in. Their rooms lined the space, a single corridor leading to the labs and the doors that spit them out in front of the greenhouses. She had spent many nights with the team in the mismatched sofas, happy memories flooding back to her as she stepped out of her room. Saul and Lief sat on the sofa that faced the entertainment center, gaming console controllers in hand as they stared up at the screen. Meredith sat with her feet tucked under her on the other side of it in her pajamas, tapping at her pad vigorously. Violet recognized the sounds of gunfire and alien grunts as she stepped towards the kitchen, the sound making her shoulders tense. 

“Can you two find something else to play?” she called, pulling the refrigerator door open in search of a snack before she turned in. She picked up a glass jar of pink liquid that appeared homemade and took a curious sniff, recoiling at the acidic fermented smell before returning it to the shelf.

“The kombucha in there is Bastian’s. He labeled it, don’t drink it,” Saul called, eyes not leaving the screen as his Spartan avatar blasted the head off of a Sangheili.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to,” she grimaced, pushing the bottle to the side, “Seriously, turn it off. It’s rude that you’re playing it with them on base.” 

“What? You never had a problem with us playing Spartan Attack before,” Lief called in his lilting accent. 

“She wasn’t boning one then,” Meredith purred, slipping off of the couch and turning towards her own room with a wicked grin.

 “Meredith…”  Violet sighed. The game paused suddenly and both men whirled around in their seats to face her. 

“Holy shit, really?” Saul gasped, Lief’s jaw still slack beside him. “I knew the armed escort was fucking weird! Not to say you aren’t special to us, Vi, but seriously? A botanist being escorted by four fucking Spartans? Which one?” 

Violet forced back her smirk as she continued to pick through the fridge. She gave up on her hunt and turned to the cabinets instead to swipe out the bag of granola Meredith kept stashed there, “That’s none of your business. And if I was, it still wouldn’t make a difference. It’s tasteless. It’s not a game; it’s their lives. Find something else to play until we leave.”

“Oh come on! What a boring ass answer. Who are you, our fucking mom? Which one?”

“I’m not saying!”

“So you admit it; you are dating a Spartan! Holy shit, Violet! Which one?”

Meredith breezed out of her room, her pajamas replaced with a sweatshirt and leggings as she tugged on her sneakers, “She’s fucking the Master Chief. They live together. He’s the one who broke Johal’s wrist.”

Violet inhaled sharply at the pandemonium that followed Meredith’s statement, both men shouting at her excitedly.

“That motherfucker said he fell down the stairs!”

 Meredith only snickered as she started down the hallway to the door, returning the vulgar gesture Violet made in her direction. She turned back to the men, “Turn it off. I’m serious.”

Both men settled back onto the couch, their moment of excitement interrupted by her hard glare. Lief clicked out of the game to the queue, selecting another game from the list of dozens downloaded. Violet watched Meredith slip through the door and nod to someone in acknowledgement as they took the door from her.

Greg slipped in after her, smiling at Violet as her started down the hallway towards her. Violet offered him a tight smile. She hadn’t had a chance to speak with him privately since they had arrived, but she had noticed the excited way he smiled at her every time they interacted, that bit of hope still in his eyes. She had once shared that same hope. She had been dreading this conversation the entire week. 

“Fine. Pressure Washer Simulator it is, then,” Lief called. Violet watched as the screen changed to the image of the wands of twin pressure washers, both men clicking on their controllers to spray digitized moss off the side of a gazebo. 

Violet scoffed at the ridiculous image, both men glued to the screen, “Jesus Christ. You know, for two highly intelligent men, you’re a couple of idiots.” 

Greg glanced at the screen as he approached, sharing an amused head shake with Violet. Saul sprayed off a clump of moss, “Don’t shit on my pressure washing, Doc.” 

“Yeah, Violet,” Lief agreed, “When I pressure wash, I feel God’s pleasure.”  

“Idiots.”

Violet watched as Greg came to stop at the end of the hallway with that same grin she had come to expect from him over the past four years. It’s presence had become a constant in her life in the same way he had. Her friend, her confidant, her shoulder to cry on. And boy, had she cried. He had been there the same way Meredith had through Dev, ready to lend an ear to whatever their latest bullshit was with that patience and some dry joke that would make her laugh and snap her out of whatever mood she was in. She had sometimes felt like he was the only person who just got her. Maybe that had been why she had agreed when he made her that deal. He understood her in a way no one ever had before until that day with a stranger in the park. 

Greg tilted his head towards the exit, “You got a few minutes?” 

Violet nodded, “I do. I think I owe you a catch up.”

He smiled again and pointed towards the greenhouses, “Meet me in our usual spot?” 

She looked out to the roof of the greenhouses, recalling the nights they had spent upon the tops of them talking. It seemed only fitting to her to return to them a final time for this conversation. She nodded again and mumbled something about meeting him there before turning to grab a sweater from her room and pull the tactical scarf from her chair.

He was already waiting for her as she climbed the ladder to the roof, eyes turned to the sky, and she carefully stepped across the polycarbonate panes to where he sat. It felt familiar as she walked towards him, every night they had spent up there together flooding back into her memory just like seeing the guys sitting in the rec room had. Every tearfilled conversation about Dev, the laughter they had shared, that conversation on her 30th birthday and the nights they had shared after. He had taken all of her broken pieces and carefully placed them back together after Devrin shattered her. She never would have made it to John if it hadn’t been for the man who came before him.

Violet lowered herself down onto the slanted roof, using his shoulder for balance as she sat down. Greg reached to take the hand that rested on his shoulder, giving her fingers a quick squeeze before Violet pulled it away. She didn’t meet his eyes as she did so. She already felt like a big enough asshole for leaving him high and dry like she did; his last message to her still sat unread in her inbox awaiting the answer that she couldn’t bring herself to give him without looking him in the eyes. 

Violet watched the base below them, her eyes resting on the Condor that sat on the tarmac. She wondered if John was having a shit time sleeping without her, too. A familiar shadow tromped across the sands, blonde curls bouncing under the floodlights of one of the guard towers. Meredith knocked on the aluminum door of a CHU, the door cracking wide enough to let her slip in. Violet turned to Greg with a knowing smirk, “Same guy still in there?” 

He chuckled, “Yep.” 

“She must have worked her way through her usual roster then.” 

Greg bumped his shoulder against hers, “I knew you botanists love to recycle, but she sure takes it to a whole other level.” 

Violet tried to stifle her laugh, the winds tossing dust into her eyes,“That’s mean.” 

“You laughed,” he chuckled, shrugging, “which makes you meaner.” 

Violet laughed and her eyes fell on the Condor again. She noticed Greg’s eyes drop to the length of weathered fabric that she twisted nervously in her hands. He tried to hide his smile and Violet felt sick. God, she was such an asshole. Kai had teased her relentlessly since they left about the broken hearts she had left behind and Violet had tried to mask her guilt. Greg cleared his throat, “So, you going to fill me in on your great adventure?” 

She swallowed, her eyes not leaving the ship. She remembered what she had told John that night in bed as she told him about the Ranger in the photograph; ‘There isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t belong to you, big guy. You’re stuck with me.’ She had meant it. Every fiber of her was meant to love him from that very first evening. She couldn’t think of a better place to be than stuck with her John. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you about something first,” she said gently. She took his hand and set the scarf into it. Greg gave her a sad, knowing smile, that hope she had seen all week dissipating. Violet offered him a small smile in return, “You told me that if I met someone to come back and give it back to you on my birthday. But only if I knew I had found him.”

Violet closed his fingers around the scarf he had given her the night before she left for Reach, “I’m a year early.”

Greg nodded and looked at the Condor with a sigh. “I figured. I saw it all over your face the moment you got off that ship,” he shook his head and let out a crestfallen chuckle, “Damn, I only had to wait another year…almost made it.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner.”

Greg offered her a forlorn smile, “You found him?”

“I did,” she returned his smile. She hadn’t doubted it for a moment. 

“What a lucky son of a bitch,” Greg chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back to the ship, “You’re sure he’s the one?”

She smiled and nodded, confirming what she had known from that first moment by the pond. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind since that first day. “Yeah. He is.”

What’s his name, sunshine?”

“John.” 

“John,” he repeated. His smile didn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Violet couldn’t help but feel guilty as she pulled her eyes from him, “That’s a good name. My dad’s name. Is he good to you?” 

Christ, she couldn’t even tell him the half of it. The very best; as if he had been made just for her. There weren’t words to describe it, so she settled with, “He is.” 

“Good. You’re happy?” 

Violet thought back on the past eight months. On every moment she spent with him. There hadn’t been a single moment of anything but happiness, even at their worst. She hoped for a lifetime of that happy. She hoped that her friend would find that same happy, too. Violet nodded, “I am.” 

“That’s all I wanted for you,” he nodded. Greg drew his knees up, pressing his heels into the roof to keep from sliding. Violet brushed the dust from her face as another gust of wind kicked across the roof. Greg tossed the scarf back over her head, carefully wrapping it the way he had taught her to keep the dust out of her nose and mouth. “Keep it. It always looked better on you.”

Violet smiled, silence falling between the two of them as they both looked out at the ship. Greg let out another low chuckle, “So, Violet Harris and the Master Chief, huh? How the fuck did that happen?”

Violet laughed, “I almost hit him with Sadie’s ball.”

“You always did have shit aim,” he laughed, Violet giving her friend’s shoulder a shove before resting her head upon it.

“Tell me about him.”

[andtheghost]

02/11/24 - Taylor Swift and the football boyfriend

I don’t care about football, and I’m not a gambler. But if I were, my money would be on the Chiefs. If for no other reason than it would piss my dad off SO MUCH.

Am I horrible person? A horrible daughter? Maybe. But also my father is a misogynist, among other things. He’s not a nice person. You can love someone and still deeply dislike them. But seeing him fly into a ten minute rage every time they show a brief flash of Taylor Swift’s face during a football game makes me just a little bit happy, okay?

And I can almost get it. It’s a football game, not Taylor Swift’s personal catwalk hour. She has absolutely nothing to do with the game, but “oh, and there’s Taylor, waving to her boyfriend, oh look, she whispered something in his ear, how cute, oh my god they kissed.” I can see how that could get mildly annoying (assuming it happens as often as he claims it does, which to be honest, I could see this being the one time in history where he’s not exaggerating. Exaggeration is a genetic trait, I think.) but he acts like they don’t even show the game because the cameras are too busy ogling Taylor.

I can only imagine what the house is going to sound like when the game starts (and what the neighbors will hear. Sometimes I wonder how we’ve kept our neighbors for so long, between my dad yelling 75% of the time and the other neighbor blasting music just about as much. Probably to drown out his yelling). How the refs are OBVIOUSLY doing everything in their power to get the Chiefs to win, every time they do a touchdown or whatever.

Like I get it, okay? The team you like isn’t capable of screwing up, and the team you don’t like isn’t capable of doing anything right, it makes perfect sense that the referees are intentionally trying to make the team you’re rooting for lose, every single game.

And it’s even better this time, because the only reason you don’t like this team is because of how much attention it brings to a WOMAN!!!! Football is MAN territory, how dare they.

I would say you wouldn’t care if it were a man, but that would imply the guy isn’t straight, so never mind. You might actually hate that more.

[cbbstuff]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Christian Dior Dior Addict Hydrating Shine Lipstick - 525 Cherie.

[journallingweeks]

Saw a tiktok where a girl speaks about how for years she didn't know what made her happy. I am pretty sure I do know how. I am going to list mine:

first thing that comes to mind: designing. When I was desigining that self-initiated brief for j*nnyk**n*, choosing the colours, imagery, mock-ups used. I love it. I literally get lost in time, and don't notice it going by. I don't even notice needing to pee!

going to the cinema, no matter what the movie.

walking to catwalk music while looking nice, grabbing a coffee.

alternatively, walking around the lough at night time, more relaxed and just thinking

running: feeling an improvement, feeling more of an ease, reaching longer distances, the feeling afterwards (!!)

beautifying myself - tan, nails, tweezing, shaving, painting my toes - doing my make-up, doing my hair.

organising the things I love, mainly my wardrobe and make-up: it gives me SUCH a sense of who I am and what I like, and makes me feel so grateful for the wardrobe I've collected.

reading a good book. last week I read the one book within 24 hours, because I loved it that much.

getting a pain au chocolat. going for coffee, with my mum or with the girls on a walk!!

planning holidays: lists, research! niche bucket lists of MY ultimate FAVOURITE things that scream at me. love it so much!!!

shopping, when I can, obviously. When I've thought for weeks about very particular things I want and then getting them - so, more specifically, intentionally shopping.

picking out fragrances, or smelling good in general - body moisturisers, body sprays and perfumes. layering scents.

decorating my environment

when I feel up to it, baking. Usually some kind of healthy bake tray though

[nhlovesadri3]

Adriana Lima's Must Haves: From a $60 Perfume to Air Jordans

When you think of Victoria's Secret, the first image that probably pops into your head is Adriana Lima. She made her Victoria's Secret debut in 1999, becoming one of the longest-reigning Angels with 18 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show catwalks under her belt, before subsequently retiring in 2018. As the lingerie brand goes through a rebrand focusing on body positivity, it's also leaning into the 2000s nostalgia.

Victoria's Secret brought back its bestselling scent, Heavenly, along with one of its most iconic Angels to spearhead the campaign — Lima included. "I'm back home. I am thrilled. I'm super excited. I love the brand. The brand helped me in every aspect of my life to make me feel empowered, feminine, and sexy," she tells POPSUGAR, adding that she has special connection to this particular scent. "I shot the first Heavenly campaign, I believe it was 1999, it was my first fragrance campaign ever." Now, she's the face of its revival.

In honour of its comeback, we decided to go down memory lane and reminisce about some of her iconic looks from past Victoria's Secret fashion shows. One of Lima's favourites is the monochromatic red ensemble during the Paris segment of the 2013 show, noting that red is her favourite colour. Donning the Fantasy Bra three times in her initial VS run, she couldn't pick just one. "They're so unique; there's so much design and time involved to make them. They work manually, placing stone by stone, and to watch that being built is truly a beautiful, incredible artistic process," she says.

Taking us back to today, Lima also gave us the rundown on current her must-have products, including a golden water bottle, Nike Air Jordans, and a silk sleep mask. Keep reading for the go-to items she can't live without.

Adriana Lima's Affordable Must Have

Lima can't go a day without perfume. "You can have the most glamorous look, but if you don't have your fragrance, something's missing," she says. The Victoria's Secret Heavenly Eau de Parfum ($60) is her current go-to. "This is the most iconic and timeless fragrance; it represents femininity, empowerment, and sensuality," Lima says.

The Heavenly Eu de Parfum is a warm scent with notes of gold musk, bourbon vanilla, creamy sandalwood, and romantic florals, including freesia, lotus, and white jasmine. "You feel feminine, you feel iconic, ethereal, empowered, sensual," she says on wearing Heavenly, adding that you can wear it during the daytime or at night. "No matter what, you will be remembered."

Pro Tip: To make your scent last longer throughout the day, Lima advises prepping your skin with moisturiser before applying your perfume. She applies an unscented oil right out of the shower, then fragrance on top. Lima also recommends spraying the scent on your hair and clothes as well for a long-lasting linger.

Adriana Lima's Investment Must Have

To stay hydrated, Lima loves her Waterdrop Oro Steel Water Bottle ($46-$52). "I've always wanted a gold water bottle," she says. "If you carry a water bottle that's actually stylish, you remind yourself to drink water every day." Not only is using a reusable water bottle like the ones from Waterdrop an eco-friendly alternative to plastic bottles, but it also helps you stay hydrated throughout the day. This one is made from double-walled stainless steel and is vacuum insulated to keep drinks cold for 24 hours and hot for 12 hours. Although her water bottle of choice is a blingy option, Lima keeps it simple with room-temperature water.

Pro Tip: Lima likes to create her own electrolyte water with some lemon, a dash of salt, and a teaspoon of maple syrup for an extra dose of hydration.

Adriana Lima's Morning Routine Must Have

The Vana Health System ($669) is a crucial part of Lima's daily wellness routine. The vials are meant to be taken as a wellness shot, and each set contains a morning formula and a nighttime formula. It uses naturally derived ingredients like vitamins, minerals, and other micronutrients, as well as fruits and vegetables that help keep your cells healthy and provide around-the-clock support for your body. Lima says that "it detoxifies your gut. It gives you more energy. It helps you sleep better at night, too. You see the difference in your skin." It's packed with antioxidants, and according to Lima, it tastes like tart cherry.

Pro Tip: Lima likes to take the a.m. shot right after breakfast and the p.m. shot after dinner and right before bed.

Adriana Lima's Sleep Must Have

Lima takes her sleep seriously. "I understand there are incredible lotions and products out there for your skin, but if you don't have a great night's sleep, there are no products in this world that will help your skin," Lima says. She told us that she is sensitive to light — even notifications from her phone — so she likes to wear her grey Blissy Silk Sleep Mask ($40) to ensure a good night's rest. Made from 100 percent mulberry silk, Lima especially loves how it feels cooling on her skin and helps prevent under-eye puffiness.

Pro Tip: This sleep mask comes with its own travel pouch, so you can take it on trips and use it on flights for a peaceful slumber anywhere, anytime.

Adriana Lima's Must Have Pair of Sneakers

Lima's go-to pair of sneakers is the Nike Air Jordan 1 Mid Sneakers ($125) in white, black, and red, calling them "the most iconic sneakers. The style is incredible. I'm obsessed." Lima wears them with everything from jeans to sweatpants and even skirts. These sneakers have a mid-top design made with leather, synthetic leather, and textile. The Nike Air Jordan 1 has a foam midsole and cushioning for lightweight comfort. "I have to say I have more respect for the shoe after I saw the movie, 'Air.' The story behind how they created it, like much respect for that shoe right now," Lima says.

Pro Tip: These sneakers fit true to size and are available in both men's and women's sizing.

[edisonblog]

Louis Vuitton: Sophisticated Urban Luxury at the Musee d'Orsay

image: Louis Vuitton - autumn-winter 2023/24 - Womenswear - France - Paris - FNW

How to survive in style in the urban jungle was the predominant image of Nicolas Ghesquière's latest collection for Louis Vuitton, presented on Monday (March 6) in Paris.

The show was performed in the grandeur of a series of gilded salons inside the Musée d'Orsay, with the pre-show soundtrack being the noise generated by intense rush hour traffic and maddening crowds. Which made double sense, as the site was a train station for 40 years before becoming a museum of quintessentially French art in 1986.

Nicolas Ghesquière's cast also looked committed, parading swiftly to an unknown destination as they made their way through the salons of Fine Arts. In case he hadn't noticed, the catwalk was the all-black version of a reclaimed Paris cobblestone street.

Huge mechanical speakers and sound baffles rotated throughout the show – all in black. Once again, artist Philippe Parreno and production designer James Chinlund were responsible for the set design. While the bizarre soundtrack – from police sirens to an out-of-tune orchestra that suggested Stockhausen on the Seine – was based on sound illusions devised by Nicolas Becker.

The backdrop also came in handy after the show, when dozens of V-VIP Vuitton customers began posing for photos under the tech structures, dressed in their best LV looks. Ironically, trying to look as much like influencers as possible who get the same clothes for free.

The collection marked a major change for Nicolas Ghesquière. Starting with its dark palette, strongly contrasting with the gold and silver used by dozens of influencers, who had a lot of fun taking selfies before the show and 'posting' them on Instagram. They had plenty of time. Even after a loud voice over the public address system implored people to take their seats, as the show was about to start, it took more than 10 minutes before a model appeared.

Then there was a radical change in the general mood. Gone are the technological and active sportswear trials of so many Nicolas Ghesquière shows for Louis Vuitton. Many natural fibers and fabrics were used, although Nicolas cut the clothes to suggest momentum and dynamism.

The Franco-Belgian designer impressed with a trio of premium wool bouclé dresses, with a defined waist and padding, custom-made to sit just below the bust. She wrapped gigantic pleated necklaces around her neck; he tucked the tuxedo shirt plackets outside the waistcoats and straightened a pinstripe suit so that it fell in a perfect square around his knees. In short, this was a pioneering and innovative tailoring masterclass.

And dynamic tailoring too: from matinee idol suits with baggy trousers and double-breasted jackets to memorable matelassé leather suits in battleship grey.

Alongside the clothes, there was a wide variety of bags – from a mini bag from the Haussmann mansion to a quilted bag that looked great with everything from polished leather to red, white and blue. Therefore, this accessory sounded like a celebration of France, in a show whose program note began with the question: “What is French style?”

Before he replied: “An ineffable magnetism that still intrigues the world; this too is paradoxical: sophistication with an air of amateurism. French fascination is a trompe l'oeil. The French touch never seems to fail to delight.”

The event also marked the womenswear debut of newly appointed CEO Pietro Beccari, who joins LV from Dior. At the entrance, the million-dollar question on everyone's lips was whether one of Beccari's first decisions would be to replace Ghesquière. The designer has been there for nine and a half years – a long reign.

Well, the collection turned out to be Ghesquière's best for Vuitton in a good five years. So, it seems to me that for one more season the stylist doesn't need to worry about that.

source: bit.ly/3T0tq19

#edisonmariotti @edisonblog

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Louis Vuitton: luxo urbano sofisticado no Musée d'Orsay

imagem: Louis Vuitton - outono-inverno 2023/24 - Womenswear - França - Paris - FNW

Como sobreviver com estilo na selva urbana foi a imagem predominante da última coleção de Nicolas Ghesquière para a Louis Vuitton, apresentada na segunda-feira (6 de março) em Paris.

O desfile foi apresentado na grandeza de uma série de salões dourados dentro do Musée d'Orsay, com a banda sonora pré-show como sendo o ruído gerado pelo tráfego intenso da rush hour e multidões enlouquecidas. O que fazia duplo sentido, já que o local foi uma estação de comboios durante 40 anos antes de se tornar um museu de arte essencialmente francesa em 1986.

O elenco de Nicolas Ghesquière também parecia empenhado, desfilando rapidamente para um destino desconhecido enquanto circulava pelos salões das Belas Artes. Caso não tenha percebido, a passerelle era a versão totalmente preta de uma rua de paralelepípedos recuperada de Paris.

Enormes alto-falantes mecânicos e defletores de som rodaram ao longo do show – todos em preto. Mais uma vez, o artista Philippe Parreno e o designer de produção James Chinlund foram responsáveis pela cenografia. Enquanto que a banda sonora bizarra – desde sirenes de polícia a uma orquestra desafinada que sugeria Stockhausen no Sena – era baseada em ilusões sonoras concebidas por Nicolas Becker.

O cenário também se mostrou útil após o desfile, quando dezenas de clientes V-VIP da Vuitton começaram a posar para fotos sob as estruturas tecnológicas, vestidos com os seus melhores looks LV. Ironicamente, tentando parecer-se o máximo possível com os influencers que recebem as mesmas roupas de graça.

A coleção marcou uma grande mudança por parte de Nicolas Ghesquière. A começar pela sua paleta escura, contrastando fortemente com o ouro e a prata usados ​​por dezenas de influencers, que se divertiram muito a tirar selfies antes do desfile e a 'postar' no Instagram. Tinham muito tempo. Mesmo depois de uma voz alta no sistema de som implorar às pessoas para que tomassem os seus lugares, quando o show estava prestes a começar, demorou mais de 10 minutos antes que uma modelo aparecesse.

Então houve uma mudança radical no clima geral. Foram-se as experimentações de roupas desportivas tecnológicas e ativas de tantos desfiles de Nicolas Ghesquière para a Louis Vuitton. Entraram muitas fibras e tecidos naturais, ainda que Nicolas tenha cortado as roupas para sugerir o impulso e dinamismo.

O estilista franco-belga impressionou com um trio de vestidos premium de lã bouclé, com cintura marcada e acolchoados, feitos sob medida para ficar um pouco abaixo do busto. Enrolou colares plissados ​​gigantescos à volta do pescoço; colocou as carcelas das camisas de smoking por fora dos coletes e endireitou um fato de riscas de giz para que caísse como um quadrado perfeito em torno dos joelhos. Em suma, esta foi uma masterclass de alfaiataria pioneira e inovadora.

E alfaiataria dinâmica também: de fatos de ídolos matinés com calças largas e blusões trespassados a memoráveis ​​fatos de couro matelassé na cor cinza battleship.

Juntamente com as roupas, havia uma grande variedade de bolsas – desde uma mini bolsa da mansão Haussmann até uma bolsa acolchoada que ficava linda com tudo, de couro polido a vermelho, branco e azul. Por isso, este acessório soou como uma celebração a França, num espetáculo cuja nota de programa começava com a pergunta: “O que é o estilo francês?”

Antes de este responder: “Um magnetismo inefável que ainda intriga o mundo; isso também é paradoxal: sofisticação com ares de amadorismo. O fascínio francês é um trompe l'oeil. O toque francês nunca parece deixar de encantar”.

O evento também marcou a estreia em moda feminina do recém-nomeado CEO Pietro Beccari, que veio da Dior para a LV. Na entrada, a pergunta de um milhão de dólares na boca de todos era se uma das primeiras decisões de Beccari seria substituir Ghesquière. O designer está lá há nove anos e meio – um longo reinado.

Bem, a coleção acabou por ser a melhor de Ghesquière para a Vuitton nos bons cinco anos. Então, parece-me que por mais uma temporada o estilista não precisa de se preocupar com isso.

[mikesamcqueen]

centre of the Alexander McQueen nose and along the Cupids

Bright and energetic, Her Blossom is a love letter to London in bloom. It's an exciting time for Britain's emerging fashion designers, with Central Saint Martins's graduating class having their first live show since 2020, and Fashion East also returning to a physical showcase. Without fanfare, the show music started playing and guests looked around quizzically: Was the audience the show? At any moment, it seemed, someone might pop up from Alexander McQueen Boots the front row and bolt onto the runway in new-old, upcycled-kitschy clothing.

Application tip: apply the illuminating powder around the edge of the face, on to the temples, cheekbones, down the centre of the Alexander McQueen nose and along the Cupids bow, to lift and brighten the complexion. Fresh Glow Foundation provides medium coverage for a flawless and dewy glow. Be sure to check out Style Du Monde's favorite street style looks all week long and see if the weather forecast aligns with our fashion forecast this season. Donatella's creations have long been an essential part of Lipa's wardrobe, but back in fall 2021, she became an official campaign star in sleek ads shot by Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott.

Some pieces featured the word Eternal embossed on the back, as if it were etched in stone. An exquisite moment of solace on a summer afternoon. If our year of so-called reckoning might not have made all the changes we'd hoped for in society, it has certainly empowered designers to make their catwalks look a little more like the sidewalks in fashion capitals like New York, Shanghai, Lagos, Tokyo, and Paris, where patterns clash, skirts are layered over pants, and midriffs are as commonplace as a sensible lug sole black boot.

Burberry Kisses Pearl is Alexander McQueen Sale Store designed to make a lasting impact. Bio-acetate is also biodegradable. Discover a long-lasting, waterproof kohl eyeliner that gives precise eye definition. Discover Matte Glow Compact, the new generation of foundation that perfects the complexion with a luminous matte finish all day long. The main material of this product is made with at least 30% bio-based materials. Taking its cue from the new design codes of the house, this festive set is ready to gift in a box inspired by Burberrys iconic honey-coloured gabardine and finished with a matching cotton ribbon.

Formulated with a powerful blend of active skincare ingredients including hyaluronic acid and viola extracts, this youth-infusing formula plumps and smooths your skin with its 24-hour hydrating properties - for a visibly youthful complexion and ultimate radiance. Mr. Frames are shipped with demonstration lenses which must be replaced before use. High-shine and full coverage in one stroke, the innovative, non-drying formula delivers bold colour with a comfortable gel-like texture. The skins barrier function is strengthened thanks to the Vitamin F from safflower oil, helping it to lock in moisture.

[perfettamentechic]

Cynthia Rowley

"Un soffio dello spirito spensierato e semplice": Cynthia Rowley #cynthiarowley #casadimoda #moda #fashion #storiadellamoda #creatoredistile #creatoredimoda #stilista #perfettamentechic

Cynthia Rowley è un marchio di lifestyle leader a livello mondiale fondato dalla stilista americana Cynthia Rowley, con sede nel quartiere di Manhattan a New York City. Rowley è originario di Barrington, Illinois, un sobborgo nord-occidentale di Chicago ed è nata il 29 luglio 1968. È una dei tre figli nati da Ed Rowley, un ex insegnante di scienze, e da sua moglie, Clementine, che era una…

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on. 

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish. 

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy. 

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands). 

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding. 

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.” 

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all. 

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t. 

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world. 

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about. 

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease. 

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do. 

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind. 

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.” 

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused. 

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop. 

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening. 

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on AO3

Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: The Demeter Team reaches a breakthrough with the help of a certain little blue brain buddy. Violet stands up for herself. John visits her in the greenhouses. Nomad rings in Violet's 31st birthday with a bang.

Chapter Thirty: Cultivation

Cortana identified the issues with the system within 25 seconds the following evening when John came to deliver her dinner to the greenhouses. Violet had only stared at the blue woman in wonder after Cortana spouted off the errors she had overlooked, smiling proudly from beside John. She would have kissed her on the mouth if it had been physically possible. 

Violet instead flipped between her diagnostic results and digital renderings as Cortana’s recommendations echoed through her mind, gaping at her wide eyed before erupting into a series of profanity laden outbursts as she paced the aisles of empty soil in disbelief. Violet mumbled to herself as she paced, wishing she had her own state of the art artificial intelligence implanted directly into her own brain. John watched her cautiously as she paced with hands folded atop her head, still laughing and mumbling like she had completely lost it until she turned back and kissed him, muttering out that she was going to bed.

Violet took the recommendations to Derek and Corey the next morning, who had completed the repairs within 15 minutes. Violet questioned why she hadn’t consulted the AI days ago as she explained Cortana’s findings, both engineers nodding along in understanding as they looked over the recommendations on their own pads. A new vigor fell over the team as Corey and Derek turned to the catwalk ladders and set about the repairs. Excitement buzzed over the greenhouses as they worked, Saul volleying between the men as they worked to inspect ionic chambers and make adjustments. Violet and the rest of the team crouched over the empty planters with trowels and hand rakes as they cultivated and pushed seeds down into the turned earth with their fingers, laughing and chatting as they worked with a newfound ease. 

Saul laughed, shaking his head as Corey closed up the generator with a definitive tap on the top and crossed to assist Derek with the finishing repairs. He leaned over the railing to shout down to where Violet hunched over one of the root vegetable planters, “How the hell did you figure it out, Harris? You were as stumped as the rest of us when we all left last night.”

Violet smirked and poked her fingers into the soil, dropping seeds into each indent before covering them with a swipe of her hand. The series of repeated motions was soothing and familiar. She found herself missing the worktables in The Jungle as she worked. “I had a friend take a look at it after hours. Figured some fresh eyes may do us some good. It was pretty simple once she identified it. I can’t believe any of us missed it.” 

“If it was so simple, then you should have figured it out five days ago,” Dev grumbled from over his section. 

The team let out a collective sigh at the sound of his voice and Violet rolled her eyes. She had spent the week avoiding him, and he had done the same of her, especially when John was present. God, why did she ever date that man? She ignored his obvious baiting and straightened up from the finished row to move to the next. She crouched across from Meredith, who shared an annoyed look with her friend.

“Leave it alone, Johal,” Meredith snapped. Violet didn’t look up from the row she cultivated, brushing soil over the tomato seeds she had pressed down, “I would rather shove my trowel up my own ass than listen to another second of your bitching and moaning. The repairs have been made, we can get back to work. Shut the fuck up and cover your section.”

“The repairs could have been made a month ago,” he snapped, stabbing his trowel down into the soil before straightening up, “But someone left us high and fucking dry so they could play bedwarmer to their little boyfriend while I actually tried to do something about it.”

“Hey,” Corey called over the edge of the catwalks from where he, Derek, and Saul stood beside the generators, “We all did the best we could. You got the same message as the rest of us from Sorenson about why she was out. Relax.”

“No,” Dev turned to look up at him, throwing his arms out in exasperation, “Why do I have to relax? She choses the right uniform to fuck at FLEETCOM and gets to come back with a hero’s welcome and parade around like a pageant queen? Like she isn’t the reason this is happening in the first place?”

“Hey, Dev, c’mon-,” Saul began, leaning over the railings to frown down at him as well.

Saul’s attempt to mitigate fell silent as Violet’s own trowel sank into the soil. She stood and turned to face Dev, a chuckle bubbling from her as she brought her eyes to him. Dev stared back at her, a satisfied smirk lifting his lips, triumph beaming from his face. Violet did not acquiesce to the anger that burned in his eyes like she had before. She brushed soil from her hands on the front of her shirt, keeping her face the same neutral expression she had seen on John’s own as she spoke.

“The entire system could have been recalibrated remotely over a month before I arrived if you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to go about your botched repairs. Your lack of care and your own selfishness is what put us here, Devrin. Not mine. Nor did John-,” she caught herself, “ Master Chief’s injuries and subsequent recovery. My responsibility was to attend to my family. You were responsible for attending to your own station. Had you asked me for help explicitly when you were on Reach, rather than veiling it in all of your pointless vitriol, this could have been avoided.” 

“I was a little busy having my bones screwed back together after you sicced your guard dog on me,” he spat. 

She narrowed her eyes, matching the way his head tilted in challenge. She recognized his posturing, he had seen it so many times over the years as he put himself over her and waited for her to shrink. She had shrunken to him for years; to hateful words and insults carefully crafted to make her feel small. She wouldn’t shrink to him any longer. She chuffed out a soft laugh, “Would you like to share with them why John did what he did? Or should I?” 

“You’re all fucking bark, Harris,” he hissed. He stepped towards her again, but the fear she had felt in the bar and every time before did not flood into her. She heard footsteps shift behind her as Bastian and Lief rose from where they had hunched over planters, but Violet remained where she stood, still watching the desperate attempt at intimidation that unfolded before her. It was pitiful, really, she thought. “You always have been.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed, dropping her voice so that only he could hear her as the eyes of their team remained on her back, “I might be all bark , but as you’ve already found out, my ‘guard dog’ bites. Try me while he’s around. Any of them, really. I welcome it.” 

Fear flickered in his eyes at the mention of John and he dropped his eyes from her own. Violet smirked. She knew that it wasn’t just John he had to worry about; Vannak had made it clear to John that he would be watching Dev as closely as he would be before they left Reach. Vannak had pulled her aside during their last family dinner as well to tell her that she was to report back to him if Dev so much as sneezed at her in a way she didn’t like. When she hugged him in thanks that time, he didn’t try to pull away. Katie had always been her protector growing up, but she had always wondered what it was like to have a big brother. 

Violet didn’t drop his gaze in the same way he did hers. She only folded her arms, standing straight and tall. Devrin met her eyes again, but that fierceness he had met her with was replaced with unease as she continued to speak.

“It seems that the reason for my leaving Demeter has escaped you, so allow me to remind you exactly what I have been doing in my absence, Doctor Johal. As of my appointment to the Head of Botanical Research in March, I am your direct supervisor. I’d have more care in the way you speak to the woman who authorizes your paychecks. And keep in mind, I’ll be making my final recommendations to the board upon my return. So go ahead; keep it up. See how it shakes out for you,” she looked up at him, the smug look he had worn gone. She smiled, “Think I’m still just barking?”

Dev stepped back, tail tucked and shoulders slumped, “No, ma’am.” 

“Good,” she said, tilting her head back towards the planter he had been crouched over minutes before, “Finish your section, Doctor Johal. We’re waiting on you.”

Violet felt herself stand a bit straighter as he returned to his section. Meredith patted her leg, smiling up at her from where she finished her planting. Violet lifted her head to the catwalks, smiling as she called up to Saul, “Shall we fire her up, then?”

Saul chuckled and gave her an approving nod, “You’re the boss, Doc. Everyone come on up.”

Violet took a steadying breath as she watched the team descend upon the ladders, chatting as they climbed up to the platforms the generators sat upon. Violet’s fingers gnashed at her thumbs as her footsteps echoed across the metal and she took her place beside Meredith. Derek and Corey looked over the generators, checking over their work before running a final diagnostic. The whole team seemed to hold their breath as they watched the engineers look over their pads intently. Derek looked up with a grin, “Diagnostics are clear. I think we’re ready.”

“You know you’re not supposed to give us a gift on your birthday, right Doc?” Saul laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. 

Violet laughed tightly, her grip on the railing tightening as she looked down at the planters below, “Good thing my birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Saul.”

“Alright, folks. Moment of truth,” Corey called. He stepped in front of the control panels, shoulders tight. Tension settled in between the nine scientists as they stared below, “ Initiating the system.”

Meredith grasped her hand, her fingers wrapping around Violet’s in a bone crushing squeeze. Violet looked to the generators as they started to hum, her heart in her throat as her own grip tightened around Meredith’s. She held her breath and pinched her eyes shut, unable to bring herself to watch if it failed and she was forced to start over again. It had taken her three years to bring the system to fruition. She feared it would take even longer if she had to start from scratch again. She couldn’t stomach the thought of having to stay; of having to leave Reach and return permanently to the installation, of having to leave John behind. She couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t. She’d sooner submit her resignation than leave and spend every single moment of her life wondering what it felt like to still be his.

Meredith gasped softly beside her and Violet took a steadying breath before opening her eyes. Her thoughts of resignation paperwork and job interviews were washed away in a glow of gentle blue light as it flooded over the rows below. Corey and Derek exchanged updates in short, clipped sentences as they monitored their screens. Violet gripped Meredith’s arm. 

“We’re a go,” Derek said, “Thirty seconds to growth.”

Thirty seconds had never passed so excruciatingly slow as Violet stared down, the team leaning over the railing beside her as they all watched silently. Bastian muttered out prayers in Portuguese beside her, Jin whispering in Mandarin farther down the catwalk. Violet only stared, willing the growth to come as she held her breath again, nerves rolling in her stomach. John had equated her to Demeter in jest, yet she stood over on the catwalks staring down at the earth and felt herself begging her child to return home and bring spring with her. She gripped the railing tightly and reminded herself to breathe.

Pinpricks of green emerged from the soil, plant life sprouting up and coiling out of the earth. All of the panic and tension rushed out of her body in a puff of air as she sighed, dropping her head onto her folded arms on the railing. The team erupted into cheers behind her, all shouting out happily and exchanging high fives. Meredith grabbed her shoulders and gave them a shake before pressing a kiss to her cheek and turning to hug Jin. 

“Fuck yeah!” Meredith shouted, clapping Bastian on the shoulder, “Botany, bitches!”

Violet didn’t lift her head from the railing. Her eyes stayed on the seedlings that rose and twisted under the blue glow, slowly and steadily increasing in size as they spread across the planters. Saul stepped behind her, giving her a gentle pat on the back as he passed, “It’s going to be about twelve hours until we’re harvestable, Doc. Go get some rest.”

---

Ease settled into her as she stared out over the rows of green. The chrono on the wall flashed back the late hour; 0124. Exactly twelve hours since the system had been initiated and hummed above head. Violet stood between two planters in her pajamas, stalks of corn towering overhead on one side, greens dotted with bright red tomatoes on the other. The sticky heat of the structures had been replaced by the whir of overhead fans and air conditioned temperatures, carefully selected by the horticulturists to promote the healthy growth that burst to life around her. She shivered slightly in her tee and sweats, thankful for the chill that tickled her skin, breathing in the earthy scent that hadn’t filled the space a short time ago. 

Violet crossed the greenhouse slowly, allowing her fingers to drag over every plant she passed. She hadn’t bothered to put on her shoes, her feet stained with red dust from the short walk between the installation to the greenhouses. She left dusty footprints in her wake as she walked, twisting and trailing between each neat row. She stopped when she reached the deep planters filled with the greens of root vegetables, a wet giggle escaping her lips as she brushed tears from her cheeks. The beep of the entry scanner sounded from the other side of the greenhouse. Violet didn’t pull her eyes from the crops to see who had entered behind her, his recognizable footsteps thudding against the floors. 

“You should be in bed,” John called.

“The villagers will be here in eight hours for the first harvest,” she called, her voice soft and thick with emotion. John’s heavy steps neared her, “Then back again in the evening. It’ll be the first time they’ve eaten something that hasn’t come out of a package in 59 days.”

John stepped beside her, her eyes still fixed on the green. His eyes followed her own, both silent for a moment as they looked out over the greenhouse. 

“Mullins told me you might be in here,”  he said softly.

“Oh yeah?” 

“He said you’d be in it or on it,”  she mouthed the words with a slight nod as he spoke them, having heard them leave Greg’s mouth so many times before.  “I saw you two on the roof the other night. You let him down easy?”

“I did.” 

“Good. I wasn’t interested in having to explain a court-martial to Keyes if he didn’t,” Violet laughed as she leaned down to pluck a browning leaf from one of the planters, running her fingers though the smooth soil. John’s eyes followed her, “What happened between you two? When you left for Reach?”

“Nothing ugly,” she dusted the soil off of her hands over the planter before straightening back up to stand beside him, her eyes still fixed on the neat rows of green. John’s hand pressed against her back, thumb brushing against her spine, “He was sweet to me; put me back together after Dev and I broke up. I was in really bad shape after that ended. I lost myself, and Greg helped me find my way back. I got my position back home and he was staying here, so it always had an expiration date. I wondered when I got back if I had made the right choice; leaving all of this. I felt like I didn’t belong at work, I left all my friends behind, home didn’t feel quite like home anymore.”

“What made you stay?”

She smiled as she met his soft look and hugged herself against the air conditioned temperatures of the greenhouse, “I called my mom in tears one evening after work. I told her I wanted to come back. I was going to request to be transferred back the next morning. I had all of the paperwork filled out, just needed to press send and that would be that. She told me to take the evening to think about it; ‘Go for a walk. Clear your head. Get yourself straight before you do anything too big’. So I did. I hooked Sadie up and we went down to the park for our walk. I stopped to throw the ball for Sadie and was thinking about my job and everything I left behind; wondering about how different it all could have been if I stayed.”

She glanced up at John, finding his eyes still on her as she spoke. He had looked down at her in that same way for months; that same gentleness to him that seemed to be reserved only for her. It still made her stomach flutter, bringing with it an easiness that felt more like home than this place ever had. More than New Alexandria ever had, or her apartment, or any place she had called her own before. Being with him felt like stepping in front of a roaring fire; safe and comforting and all-encompassing. She loved him. She loved him through all of the warmth and through the chill, in each moment she spent by his side, and part of her assumed she had loved him before he had ever stepped foot into her life. She knew that love would linger long after the warmth and chill, and she hoped she would never experience a moment without it. Without him. Without them. Wrong , he had called them that night. She had never felt a wrong so beautiful. She’d be wrong for the rest of her life as long as that wrong was him.

She offered him a soft smile, “I must have been too lost in my thoughts because I threw the ball a bit too far and it almost hit this big, beautiful stranger by the pond. It didn’t though, he caught it before it could; must have head eyes in the back of his head watching out for him. I went over to apologize and as soon as I looked up at him, I knew I had made the right choice.”

John smiled softly and lifted a hand to brush her hair out of her face. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek before tucking the errant strand behind her ear, tracing the curve of her jaw before taking her face in his hand, brushing his thumb against her cheek in gentle strokes. Violet pressed against the touch and curled her fingers around his wrist. “Yeah? How’d you know?”

“I told him a weird fact about geese,” she laughed, relishing in the low rumble of his chuckle, “And he didn’t look at me like I was a crazy person. He just laughed. I deleted my transfer request that night. I haven’t wondered again since I met you. I can’t picture what things would have been like if I had made a different choice. One spring evening in Tchakova Park was all it took for me to see what my forever looked like.”

She turned to look up at him, “You will always be the best choice I have ever made, John.”

He said nothing. He never had to. He only looked down at her in all of that silent intensity and took her hand, his fingers curling into her own. She reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek, John leaning into her touch. 

“Ready to go home?” she asked, “I think our dog probably misses us.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her head before wrapping his arms around her. Violet let her head rest against his chest plate as she leaned into his embrace. 

“Yeah, goose,” he murmured, “I am.”

___

Violet returned to the installation to find the rec room and kitchen empty at the late hour. Jin poked out of the door of Saul’s room, giving Violet a small wave as she slipped back into her own room quietly. Violet offered her a small smile in return. She stood in the rec room for a few moments in the silence, looking over the sofas she had spent so many nights upon with her friends. All of the laughter, all of the tears, all of the comradery and brilliance exchanged with the people who had pushed her and driven her. The team who had made her a better scientist. The people who made her a better person and friend. She glanced out at the greenhouse roofs a final time, a soft smile stretching her lips before she slipped into her room to pack up her things. 

She’d miss this dusty little shithole. But, fuck, she was ready to go home with her John. 

Violet fell asleep in her old room early on the morning of her 31st birthday to thoughts of John’s warmth beside her in bed and the evening run she looked forward to taking Sadie on. She slept the best she had in the days they had been at FOB Nomad, guilt fading from her as she dreamed of clean linens and preparing meals in her own kitchen. The room still felt too lonely, too quiet without the sounds of him sleeping next to her, but she slept comfortably knowing that the noises would return within a few short weeks in the sleepy comfort of their bedroom. 

She slept through the first explosion, the flashes of light illuminating the walls of her room. The second startled her awake, and the shouts that followed afterwards made her get out of bed.

[casadefreewill]

Daily Fics

(Fics I read throughout the day yesterday and enjoyed)

The Unforseen Consequences of Catwalker by Inquiet Obsolescence (Pearl484), Pearl484 ( @pearl484-blog )

Ladybug chose to have Catwalker become a permenant member of the team. As her and her team will soon find out, that was a bad call.

Adrien Augreste 2022 entry for the day 25-26 prompt: Catwalker

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Catwalking Back From Disaster by Inquiet Obsolescence (Pearl484), Pearl484 ( @pearl484-blog )

"It was good for a while, being empty. I didn't hurt anymore. But as time went on, it was like I could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back."

After the disaster that was Catwalker, Adrien reflects on his newfound apathy.

Adrien Augreste 2022 entry for the day 31 prompt: Healing

Sequel to The Unforseen Consequences of Catwalker. It is strongly recommended you read that first.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Chat Walker's Trial by Inquiet Obsolescence (Pearl484), Pearl484 ( @pearl484-blog )

Instead of Catwalker showing up to serve as her new Chat Noir, Ladybug is stunned to find that Chat Noir has returned to her, having "improved" himself by repressing his emotions, memories, and willfulness. Deciding that this will not stand, she organizes her teammates to convince Chat Noir that giving those traits up and becoming the perfect partner was not the right move, but how can she argue against perfection?

Adrien Augreste 2022 entry for the day 23-24 prompt: Swap

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

More stuff from Pearl484. This is really Adrien angst hour, general warning for all these stories, Adrien is very depressed.