#CHANTING AS I SIT NEXT TO ALL THE VOLUMES )

[lipstickstainedreid]

Tequila shots

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: You and the team go out. Tequila shots are flowing, which leads to a closeness you hadn't expected.

Wordcount: 2787

NSFW, fem!dom!reader, Sub!Spencer, Praisekink

------------------------------------------------------------------------------The team decided that it was a good night to go out, after an especially hard case to celebrate. You were happy to find a nice black top in the back of your car. It’s off the shoulder and accentuates your cleavage nicely without being too much. 

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror of the bar. Sighing you touch up your lipstick and fluff your hair for more volume. 

“Y/n!” you hear Emily knock on the bathroom door. 

“Coming!” You yell back. 

You give yourself one more look before heading back into the bar. 

Everybody is stuffed into a booth in the back. The Rolling Stones playing over the speakers gives the bar a nice vibe. A few small groups are scattered around, a couple of guys playing darts. Overall it’s not as busy as you’d expect.

You sit down next to Emily. “What are we talking ‘bout?” You smile. 

Your eyes scan the table, everybody already has a drink. Morgan slides a beer towards you. You smile gratefully at him. 

Your eyes get stuck on Spencer, he took off his blazer and the tight-fitting dark purple shirt is very visible. You let your eyes wander over his chest, the buttons are slightly pulling on the fabric. Over the past year, he grew out of his lanky frame and into a man with broad shoulders and arms. His sleeves rolled up making his arms look even bigger. God, he looked delicious. 

“Well, Prentiss, JJ and I are convincing everyone else to go to this club a block away,” Morgan spoke.

“The average age here is 50.” Prentis sighed head resting on her hand, with the other she was waving her beer around to point at a group of elderly men. 

Rossi quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

“No offence.” She quickly mumbled. 

Spencer seemed to get nervous at the thought of going to a club. His hand ran through his hair. 

“Come on guys, we want to dance!” JJ exclaimed. Garcia gave in with a little “Whooo,” sending a wink your way. 

A night of dancing would be a good way to get your mind off of all the brutal cases you’ve seen lately. Besides it’s been forever since you had some drunken stupid fun. Who knows, what is the worst thing that could happen with your colleagues?

You take a big swig of beer. “Okay, I’m in!” You laughed. Half of the table burst out in cheers.

Hotch, Rossi and Reid still needed to be convinced. Prentis starts a small chant, tapping her beer on the table. “Clubbing, clubbing, clubbing.” JJ and Garcia join in quickly. 

“Come on Hotch, scared you can’t keep up anymore.” Morgan taunts. 

Hotch glances at the man next to him about to answer, when Rossi intervenes. “Come on Hotch let’s show these kids how it’s done.” 

More cheers erupt from the table. 

Reid is fidgeting with his hands looking up at you worried. you smile at him reassuringly and mouth “You’ll be okay.” He nods and gives you a small smile. His eyes were still a bit worried. 

The team finishes their beers and gets ready to walk to the club. 

Standing at the coat check you can already feel the bass coming from down the hall. You start feeling a little giddy, excitement filling your chest. “Y/n! you ready?” Penelope grabs your hand to pull you down the hallway. 

The music hits you like a wall. There are speakers all around the room blasting what the DJ is playing. Different coloured lights are flashing everywhere. Reid comes up next to you, anxiety visible in his shoulders and jaw. You reach over and give his hand a small squeeze. He smiles at you and lets out a breath before walking in with you. 

Prentis comes up to your group and waves everybody over. Derek is standing at the bar guarding a row of shots with his life. Everybody piles around the shots. You lick your hand and pour some salt over it. Getting ready holding the glass and lime. 

“One, two, three, shot!” Morgan yells.

The tequila burns a little going down and you grimace at the taste. The lime helps a bit. You lock eyes with Reid who seemed to have a worse experience than you. Before you can talk to him the girls pull you back on the dancefloor.

In the bathroom, you look at your phone”, the text is starting to become blurry. 2:00 AM. Your mother's voice echoes in your head “Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM.” You shake your head and look in the mirror. Why do you always feel more drunk in the bathroom than out on the dancefloor? You reapply your lipstick and tousle your hair around a little bit. You stumble a little to the door before heading back out. 

Walking past the bar you see Derek and Spencer standing around a group of girls. A small pang of jealousy hits your chest. Reid runs a hand through his hair and smiles at one of the girls. God, why did he have to look so hot today? All those girls are probably throwing themselves at him. It’s, not like he’s yours or anything but still, that doesn’t mean you have to like these girls flirting with him. Surely if you were sober this wouldn’t bother you as much. Right now your head is dizzy with alcohol, and you can’t think straight. 

As you march over there Morgan calls out “Y/n come do a shot with us!” Spencer's hair was starting to stick to his forehead from the heat and he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. You could see the blonde girl beside him whisper something in his ear. Her hand very clearly touching his arm. Could she be even more obvious? 

Reid his cheeks were turning red by the second as he gulped. 

“Okay, it’s Reid's turn,” Morgan calls out, and all the girls cheer. Confusion is written all over your face, Derek smirks at you. 

Spencer looks even more uncomfortable wiping his hands on his trousers. 

“Okay pretty boy, it’s salt, shot, lime remember?” Reid nods, nervously looking around. 

Derek comes closer to your ear, so you can hear him over the music. “Can you help boy genius out?” 

“Sure, what do I need to do?” you answer.

“Stand there and look pretty we’ll do the rest.” 

Sounds ominous but you’re sure Derek would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with. 

He walks back to get some stuff from the bar and comes to stand behind you. 

“Don’t be scared pretty girl.” 

You feel something cold on your neck going down parallel to your collarbone. You turn your head to see salt getting poured over the same line. Derek stands in front of you now and hands you the lime. “Hold this in your mouth.” 

You do as he says. Surely this is not the most professional thing you could do but you can’t see anyone else from the BAU around. 

Spencer gets pulled by Derek to stand behind you. The blonde girl glares at you, obviously jealous of the position you’re in. 

You can feel the heat radiate from the man behind you. He’s holding the shot glass in one hand. 

Derek yells from the group of girls “One, two, three, shot!”

Spencer's big hand holds your arm as he moves even closer. You feel him completely pressed behind you as he dips his head down. His tongue moving across the strip of salt. 

Tingles shoot up and down your spine. Just as fast as his mouth leaves your neck he turns you around. He takes the shot and puts the glass down. Both of his hands hold your face. He pulls you close to take the lime from between your lips. 

Your breath stops. You’ve never been this close to the man in front of you. Your mind is consumed by the thought of this man. All you can think about is closing the gap between your lips. You lock eyes as he moves away. The confidence in his actions seems to fade away as he steps away from your body. 

“Okay, Y/n now it’s your turn!” Morgan exclaims from behind you. His words slowly bring you back to where you are. “Pretty boy, you want to return the favour?” he taunts. 

Spencer mumbles something which gets taken as a yes. The blonde girl drags the lime over the space on his chest now visible with the part of the shirt that’s unbuttoned. She shakes the shaker to pour salt over his chest. She gives him a wink before walking away. Reid takes the lime from Morgan, who hands you the shot after.

Something about this girl so obnoxiously flirting with Spencer is setting something off in you. Maybe you had some unresolved feelings about this man. You knew you were attracted to him, who wouldn’t be? This was a jealousy deeper than that. 

You were aware these girls wanted to go home with Spencer tonight. Something switched in your mind. Fuck it let’s give them a show.

You approach the taller man, who’s staring nervously at you. With your free hand, you move the shirt out of the way and you lick a long strip over his chest, not breaking the eye contact. Spencer's eyes darken as he looks down at you. You take the shot and use both hands to pull Spencer down by his shirt. You’re filled with longing as you hold him there. Taking the lime from his lips, you feel his breath hitch in the closeness shared for a split second. 

“Let’s go,” you growl in his ear. Reids's hand grabs yours as he pulls away. He manoeuvres you across the dancefloor filled with partygoers. When he finds an empty bathroom he pulls you inside and closes the door. 

You push him against the door and with your other hand you lock it. Your lips connect in a passionate kiss. Fireworks go off in your chest as you’re mind is buzzing with alcohol and lust. Your lips move against his with hunger. His hands try to touch you anywhere he can. They move from your hips to your waist to pull you closer to him to your face. Your hands are unbuttoning his shirt. When his shirt is open you push it from his shoulders and let it fall on the bathroom floor. You break the kiss and a soft whine escapes the taller man. You let your eyes travel over Spencer. His blonde hair all tousled, cheeks red and lips flushed, his eyes stay focussed on yours. 

“Such a pretty boy” you whisper against his ear as you leave wet kisses down his neck. He lets out a quiet breath from the feeling. You smile against his neck and suck harder leaving maroon and purple bruises all over his collarbone. 

His knees almost buckle from the feeling. Your hands move down from his chest to his thighs. You softly brush against his groin feeling how hard he already is. 

“Are you so needy already?” You coo. 

Spencer nods feverishly “Please let me make you feel good.” He begs. 

“Not yet baby,” your hands move to his belt slowly undoing it. “There is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” You quickly pull his pants and boxers down.

He gasps at the feeling of the cold air on his dick. A drop of precum already collecting at the tip. You smile as you slowly move your hand around his shaft. You go teasingly slow at first looking up at the man in front of you. 

Spencer is leaning his head against the door, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed together. 

You start licking at the tip, then moving from the base down his shaft. Spencer lets out a moan at the feeling. You take the tip in your mouth as his hand buries in your hair. 

You start bobbing up and down his dick, your cheeks hollow. Enjoying the pretty sounds he’s making. Your hands grab his thighs. You notice Spencer is starting to move with your head trying to go deeper down your throat. He feels heavy on your tongue. 

“Please Y/n,” he whimpers “Please let me cum.”

You move away from him. “Not so fast baby. Slowly standing up you keep one hand on his length, moving it teasingly slow. You feel him trying to gain some more friction by moving his hips. You loved having this incredible man so desperate for you. 

“You’re being so good for me baby.”

Spencer moans at the praise. 

“You want to fuck me, make me feel good?” 

He nods his hands again trying to pull you closer. 

“Please miss.”

You bring him towards the sink as you jump up on the counter. Pulling on his blonde locks you lock lips again. His tongue brushes against your lips, you let him in. Your tongues circle each other. Spencer's hands move to the bottom of your shirt. 

“Can I take it off?” He murmurs against your lips. You nod in response. 

He quickly moves his head away to remove the top and throws it down on the ground. He stares at you for a moment. His lips connect to your chest as his hands find their way to the clasps of your bra. 

You moan at the feeling of his lips all over you. He slides the bands of your bra down your arms as it joins the pile on the floor. 

His kisses move to your right nipple, and his hand finds your left boob. He kisses and sucks on it while his hand massages the other. His teeth softly pull on it. 

“You make me feel so good baby, suck a good boy.” 

He whimpers against your chest. His hands move your skirt up to your hips as his mouth continues making its way down.  You gasp at the cold counter against your bare ass.

He hooks his fingers around your panties and moves them down your legs. They get tossed aside without looking. Spencer's mouth latches to your thigh. Wet kisses up and down your thighs. 

You feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second as your breathing becomes more heavy. 

After what feels like ages his lips find their way around your clit. His tongue moves circles around it gently applying pressure. Your hands are buried in his hair.

“Fuck Spence,” you moan. 

his tongue licks around your entrance as he continues to suck on your clit. 

Softly you feel one finger nearing your entrance. He moves it in and out of you with ease. Fuck he has long fingers. 

A second one joins. 

“Fuck baby,” He curls his fingers to hit your g-spot “you feel so good.” Your moans come out broken from the pleasure.

He continues eating you out as if his life depended on it. 

A familiar tightness forms and your legs start shaking.

“Don’t stop Spence, I’m so close.” This only seems to make him more enthusiastic. His tongue still circling your clit. His long fingers fucking you. You can’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna cum Spence.” You warn him. 

Your sweet release covers his face as you moan his name. 

The man comes up from between your legs with a hazy smile. You brush his hair out of his face. 

“You did so good sweetheart.”

You give him a soft kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Something that sends a wave of endorphins through you. 

Your hand moves down to his shaft again, still standing ready. With your other hand on his shoulder, you pull him closer to you. You give him a few pumps before lining him up with your entrance.

He moves into you. You both moan at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out. 

“Fuck you’re so big baby, you make me feel so good.” 

He whimpers “Thank you miss.”

Spencer starts thrusting slowly first, moaning at the feeling of you surrounding him.

“Faster baby.” At these words, he starts fucking you faster. 

You press your nails into his shoulders. Whispering encouragements and praise into his ear. 

His hips snapping into you faster and faster. 

You feel your walls fluttering around him, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach. Spencer starts moving faster and deeper. You can tell he’s getting close.

“Be a good boy and cum for me.”

That’s all it takes for Spencer and you to fall over the edge. His hips stutter as he lets out loud moans. He lets his head hang against yours as he fills you up. 

You kiss his head.

“Such a good boy.”

[facefullofsadness]

I NEED NINGNING SO BAD OMG IM SO GLAD I FOUND YOUUUU PLS TELL US MORE ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS ABT HER

I'm in such a ningie mood lately and can't help but to write this LOL

content - me going absolutely batshit insane talking about ning yizhuo, smut (switch!ning, cunnilingus, fingering, sex toy mentions, not a lot of actual smut just headcanons), not proofread in the slightest D;

wc - 1k

a/n - like I was literally just thinking ab ning2 when I saw this ask, I also have her pc out next to me rn so ningie close ur eyes baby don't watch me as I write this 🫶 also tysm anon for finding me hehe

like ningning is so fucking fine.

idk what god mixed together in his lil cauldron to cook up ning yizhuo, but she's actually so fucking RAAHHH. sorry this is gonna be so incoherent bc I'm just ningyi drunk as fuck right now.

I imagine a fluffy besties kinda relationship w her. like it's all giggly and flirty and you make each other's heart race with touches and words, but also love to be cute and cuddle, gift giving (more on her part bc she loves to buy things that remind her of you), domestic shit like groceries or cooking together. and also you loveeee talking shit! in an idol!au world, in a school!au world, in any type of world where you two meet and fall in love, you're best friends that talk shit before anything.

I mean u don't necessarily have to do that specifically, but I just feel like above all and at your relationship's core, you're best friends that are clingy and inseparable. so you just make the perfect pair when you finally become gfs. bb girl loves to say she's not a scorpio but I think that the oct born blood within her is in full effect in bed. I'm telling yall, autumn/fall born besties are horny mfs (I can confirm).

like already being physically affectionate with you prior to even dating, she would move quick with pushing it further. your first kiss even evolved into a very heated makeout sess straight away, hands gripping skin under shirts or running through each other's hair, legs intertwined, spit dripping down chins because both of you refused to pull away for air (need!). and like it only but amplified from that point on.

I feel like the first time happens unintentionally. probably a drunk game of truth or dare that gets touchy and suddenly ning ends up slurping the cum flowing out between your legs, moaning against your pussy and grinding her cunt against your leg as you sit back against the couch, your hand in her hair pulling her in further. chanting her name raspily as you grind your hips into her mouth, her tongue feeling so incredibly good in your leaking hole. you yell out her name as you interlace one of your hands with hers, her thumb rubbing against the skin of your wrist as you cum all in her mouth.

she shudders at the same time you do, cumming in her panties from grinding against your leg, unable to stop herself from getting turned on eating you out. and you fucking love watching as her eyes roll back with her mouth on your pussy, feeling the heavy vibrations from her screaming into your cunt.

of course returning the favor for your gf, pinning her down under you and fingering her tight puffy pussy as she squirms. you LOVE fingering her despite being obsessed with the taste of her cum, because you couldn't get enough of how her face contorted with every thrust of your fingers in her cunt. the way her mouth would fall open, the way her eyes rolled back, the way she would tilt her head backwards and expose her sweaty neck, the way she would reach out for anything to dig her nails into (sheets, blankets, your clothes, or your skin!), the way her moans sounded sooooo fuckinggg heavenlyyyy. I mean have you heard this woman sing? the melodious sound of her voice chanting whines and whimpers of your name, knowing she'd sound like this for you and you only. to add on, she's fucking loud, so just the sheer volume of her moaning for you riled you on so much.

she's a squirter me thinks. she's a creamer in my stripper fic but that's only because I wanted her to make reader squirt oop- maybe you both are! I mean I think we can all agree that she's a master pussy eater right? I can only imagine how good she fucking feels with her skillful tongue and mouth. she knows exactly what she's doing even if she's had no experience, yizhuo just seems like the type to be insanely good at eating girlies out. every time I see her, I either so badly wanna get eaten out by her or eat her out. I just know she's so reactive and sensitive but is obsessed with cumming over and over again, overstimulation and all.

the prettiest girl to ever exist. so pretty between your thighs, so pretty around your fingers, so pretty taking your tongue, so pretty on top of you, so pretty under you, such pretty moans to slip from her mouth, such pretty expressions when she feels your touch. IM GOING INSANEEEEE!!! vvv switch coded! I know she gives extremely pillow princess energy, but she's so utterly in love and obsessed with you that she wouldn't dare let you go without an orgasm because you deserve it! either extremely service top or power bottom.

loves to play around with toys, but ultimately opts sticking to mouth and fingers because she loves feeling all of you always. though it's not surprising in the least that she has a wide sex toy collection; vibrators, dildos, strap-ons, cuffs/rope/bindings, blindfolds, floggers, gags, clamps, collars, you name it, she probably has at least one. is down to experiment with almost anything and is very adventurous, she just wants to have a good time with you!

ning is just a really passionate lover overall. because even after hours of fucking and cumming everywhere, she always makes sure you're okay :(( kissing you gently on the neck where her face is buried after a long session, rubbing your skin where there might be red marks or scratches or what have you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, offering to get you a drink or run a warm shower/bath for you both. she makes you feel loved and that's the most important part (aside from the mind-blowing continuous climaxes she just gave you).

a/n - NING YIZHUO PLEASEEEE ONE CHANCE OH MY FUCKING GOD I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE WOMEN AND ARE A PUSSY EATER-

[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

[canmom]

Annecy photodump 4 - assorted

This one is just straight up posting my holiday photos. But there's a few little anecdotes along the way.

On Saturday, I unexpectedly ran into a protest passing along the road between Bonlieu and Pathé (the two most important places in Annecy). I'm not entirely sure what it was they were protesting, but it was interesting hearing the familiar rhythms of protest chants with French words.

It was funny seeing Liberty Leading the People printed on a protest sign after watching a film about the context behind its painting earlier in the week.

French coppers wear these little sailor hats, upholding the tradition of police everywhere to wear dorky headwear...

I was standing by the lake trying to take a selfie with my DSLR when this guy in an Unreal Engine t-shirt sitting nearby offered to photograph me. I tried to say 'yeah so it's in aperture priority mode' to which he replied 'don't worry, I'm not a noob', switched it to manual and rapidly adjusted the aperture and exposure, and proceded to take some insanely nice photos of me.

By contrast in my own attempts, the sky is way overexposed...

So thanks, that guy! I am entirely shown up with my own camera, but one day I'll learn x3

BD Fugue is the big BD (comics) shop in Bonlieu. It's a wonderful place to just go in and look at all the enormous glossy books. For example, historical comics...

or go over to the fantasy section for some 30-odd volumes of Elfes...

There were a whole lot of similar comics to this series called stuff like 'Orcs' and 'Wizards'. (I don't remember the exact titles.) Must be quite popular!

As well as comics, it stocks books on animation and animation history. Conveniently, a lot of these are in English. I held off on buying comics in French (mostly...) but I got a very technical book on animation timing and a history of European animation, both of which I'm sure I'll be turning to a lot in the next year.

The VR room has a lot of bright coloured floors which provide some very nice examples of indirect diffuse-diffuse lighting, which is very expensive to render in games.

There's something inherently funny about seeing people immersed in VR like this.

Annecy has an abundance of old churches and cathedrals. Here's a few, inside and out...

I think these are mostly Catholic, though I don't really know enough about church architecture to say. I was a little disappointed to find out that you can't go up to that little glass dome on the roof of the cathedral, but on the other hand, it is a very pretty dome.

On another note - I've been in a number of cities over the past couple months - London, Glasgow, Belgrade, Geneva, Annecy - and in every single one I've seen graffiti and stickers saying 'free gaza'. (Though I also saw a weird little Zionist street stand with a bunch of leaflets and shit in Geneva.) Here's some graffiti in Annecy and a BDS sticker from Zagreb. I don't want to draw too many conclusions from this - the governments of most of these countries are still doggedly backing the genocide - but it does feel striking to see support for Gaza expressed at least in the graffiti culture of so many places.

One of the coolest things about Annecy is that the Alps are always kind of like... just hanging out in the background. They're so enormous it's hard to photograph them really! But here's a few shots with Alps chilling behind.

And to wrap things up, one last DSLR selfie.

À la prochaine, Annecy!

[scarisd3ad]

Superstar | football player!joel miller x popstar!reader

Chapter Four - labyrinth

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Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings - angst, cursing

Summary - when you find out about a certain football player showing up at your tour you decide to reach out just because of all the dating rumors, but what if thoughs rumors turn into reality?

a/n - okay so since I've never really introduced Joel parents they are introduced here. his mother is named Juliana in this, and his father is named tom (because tommy just feels like he'd be a jr)  <3. also, song reader sing is labyrinth because I love labyrinth and Taylor sang it at n1 in Argentina.  

‘Oh no, I’m falling in love’

I let out a deep sigh as my fingers pressed against the piano keys. The same piano I sit at weekend after weekend with a large screaming crowd showing all their adoration for me through screams and chants. I pull my in-ears out so I'm able to hear the actual volume of the crowd. "Holy shit," I whisper into the mic in front of me. They're loud, so loud it's impossible to believe that this is my life. Screaming crowds, fans, concerts at venues this big it's incredible. "you guys are so unbelievably awesome you don't even understand," I say as I place my in-ears back into my ears. I can still hear the screams the in-ears just kind of lower the volume. "So, I um, I wrote a new song and I want to see if you guys like it," I say with a smile. They scream as I begin to play the notes on the piano. I take a deep breath before starting the first lyric.

"It only hurts this much right now...was what I was thinking the whole time" It's a little nerve-wracking performing a song that I had just written last night to a whole crowd of people. I didn't even know if they were going to like it, let alone like that I was playing an unknown song rather than a song that they all could sing along to. But despite my anxious thoughts, they scream, scream like this is their favorite song ever. "Breathe in breathe through breathe deep breathe out. I'll be getting over you my whole life," they scream again, astonished by the lyrics, astonished by what these lyrics might mean. I know there's already a video posted somewhere speculating what these lyrics mean and who they're about. That's just how the internet works. But I'm the only person who will ever truly know what this song and its lyrics are about.

"You know how scared I am of elevators, never trust it if it rises fast, it can't last" I hear a loud "I love you y/n!" from a girl sitting in the very front row closest to the stage. I smile as I start the next lyric. "Uh oh, I'm Fallin' in love. Oh no, I'm Fallin' in love again" Screams from the crowd start up because these lyrics just have to be about Joel, right? I know that's what they're thinking and they're right, or at least partially, about him. "Oh, I'm Fallin' in love. I thought the plane was going down. how'd you turn it right around?"

-

"Sooo, why aren't you out with Joel?" Tara asks from her spot at the end of my bed. It was my off weekend. I had one weekend off from performing, and this was it. I let out a sigh. "Um, he invited me to something just didn't feel like it" She rolled her eyes; she knew I was lying somehow. it wasn't anything about 'not feeling it' it was all about the kiss, and the 'good job' afterward, the way my heart dropped right after he said that too. We just needed some space. I needed to be away from him for a little while to try and rid myself of this crush I had on him.

"Is that true?" I let out a sigh as I shook my head and murmured, "I don't want to talk about it, kay?" I wrap my arms around Ollie, who is nestled up beside me, and pull him closer. He lets out a tired "meow" but forgets about the fact I had moved him about 2 seconds later. "c'mon y/n tell me y'know I don't judge" I roll my eyes as she props herself up with her arm. "He kissed me," I whisper. Her brows furrow in a confused curl, which sends me tumbling into an explanation. "He kissed me, and I think I'm in love with him. And the kiss was all for the paparazzi," I whisper as I lay my head back down on my pillow. She sits up quickly, snatching my phone off the bed. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" I shout as I quickly sit up. She tumbles off of the bed running away. I let out a groan as I scurried off of the bed to follow after her. She's letting out giggles as her thumbs type away. "Seriously T, what are you doing?!" I shouted as I followed her down the stairs, almost tripping as I came to the bottom.

She stops in the kitchen and pushes herself against the counter. "You're going out with Joel" my eyes widen. I plan on ignoring him for a few weeks before cutting the deal off. "Because you need to figure this shit out 'cause I know it's not fake for him either" She hands me back my phone and I'm quick to open the messaging app.

Joel Miller

y - hey, plans changed. I'm able to go to that thing if I'm still able to.

J.M. - what happened to your sisters?

I rolled my eyes it was obvious that I did not write the text. This was just going to break my heart even more. I don't even know why she'd do this. "Tara...why seriously this is just going to hurt me even more" I whisper, she shakes her head as her arms cross over her chest "he likes you too, y'know have you seen the way he looks at you?" I don't even know how her brain works; he looks at me like how a normal person looks at another human. There was not even a hint of love in his eyes. I stare at her, waiting for her to explain. "Oh my god seriously, are you blind?"

Joel Miller

y- canceled, can you pick me up?

y- please?

J.M. - yeah, sure, be there in 15.

I let out a sigh as I stuff my phone into my pocket. "he's gonna be here in 15 so I better..." I whisper, my voice trickling away as I make eye contact with Tara. I'm not mad at her because I just can't be mad at her, but I'm just so anxious that I seem mad. "Are you mad?" her smile immediately drops. Sometimes Tara just plays too much. She didn't realize how brokenhearted I was after he kissed me, not until now. I turn around and begin to walk away. "Hey y'know, he does like you, I wouldn't lie to you." she chases after me, "I know I just don't trust your judgment," I whisper. It wasn't that Tara liked to lie and make things up, she just embellishes the truth sometimes, especially when I like a guy. She likes to add things to make me feel good. "Just let me get ready...by myself," I whisper.

I throw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt before putting on some makeup and doing my hair. I was anxious to meet his entire family. That was the main reason I didn't want to go because it just felt like a little too much for fake dating. my heart pounded against my chest as I sat on my couch waiting for him to show up. I was trying to hype myself up in my head, but I had no luck in doing so. I was still a big bundle of nerves who didn't want to be talked to at the moment. My hands shook and my chest was rising and falling so fast it was concerning. And then when I heard three soft knocks on my front door, I wanted to hide.

knock knock knock

I take a deep breath in mutter "I've got this" before standing up and stuffing my phone into my back pocket. "Hey Tara, I'm leaving kay?" when I hear a muffled "okay!" from upstairs I open the front door. I'm met with Joel standing at the door dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a cowboy's tee shirt.

"Hey, darlin', how have ya been? Haven't heard from ya in a while." My heart flutters at the nickname, and at the thought that he cares about how I've been. "I-I've been good, you?" he waves me off. "No, I wanna hear about you. How was your concerts last weekend, huh? Heard they were all sold out," I giggle, flustered that he had even thought about my concerts. "Go-good, I um performed a new song," I say as I smile up at him, a disgustingly lovesick look on my face. But I can't help it, he just makes me feel so good. So free, so loved even if it is fake.

"Need ya to sing that to me, darlin," he says as he grabs my hand. It felt so weird having a man care so much about my music. Every time I see him, he asks about my concerts or how I write my songs. I've been with men who cared I made so much music with Andy, but Joel just feels so different. "y-yeah um I can if you want me to," I whisper as he leads me toward his car. Unlike every other time I had seen him, there wasn't even any paparazzi outside my house. So, him holding my hand is pointless.

-

When we pull up to his house, it's nothing like I imagined it to be. Unlike most other celebrities his age who have large mansions that span many acres, it's a normal 2-story suburban home. It's a stereotypical picket fence home with a large tree in the front yard and faded chalk drawings on the driveway. It was unexpected for a man with so much fame and wealth, but not unexpected for a man like him. Joel was a regular Texan man, a father, a son, and a brother. A man who lived in a simple 2-story, 3-bedroom, 2-bath house. Picket fences, scrapped knees, and handmade drawings stuck up on the fridge. Normalcy, that's what his house felt like. It felt like my childhood. It felt like suburban neighborhoods playing with the neighborhood kids, and ice pops on the front porch. It felt like playing in sprinklers, puddles, and mud. It felt like baseball in the backyard. I felt happy that his kids got that, although their father was such a star. They didn't have to grow up in a large mansion with no kids around like other celebrities' kids got.

As we walk into his house, Joel's hand is splayed across my lower back. There were a lot of people sitting on his couch, some women, some men, but they all felt older than me. "Back...Um, this is my...girlfriend y/n...y/n this is my uncle Walter, aunt Gabriela, my mom Juliana, my dad Tom, and our neighbor Jason" My eyes widen a bit at all the new names and faces I'm taking in. "hi" I squeak with a tiny smile. "She's a superstar, famous singer, right darlin'?" I didn't even have enough time to become flustered at the fact that he had called me his girlfriend because I was met with bunches of hands and people trying to hug me. "I um yeah, yeah I sing a little" I whisper as I try my best to hide myself behind Joel. it's a weird feeling being around all these people who are just so much older than me, I felt like I'd fit in more with his young daughter than with these people. "'Sing a little' c'mon darlin', don't sell yourself short. This girl is performing for sold-out stadiums" he says with a chuckle, "I-I yeah um-" Thankfully, I'm cut off by a scream and the feeling of a little body smashing into my leg.

I look down to see Sarah with her arms wrapped around my torso. "you're here! Daddy said you couldn't come" his family begin quiet 'aww's and 'look how cute's "y-yeah I um I could make it after all," I say with a shy smile. For someone who has stadiums full of people cheering me on, I'm so shy in front of a room of just 5 people. I look up to see a smaller girl standing just a little behind Sarah. She has a paler complexion and straighter brown hair. She's got her arms crossed over her chest; she can't be any older than 5. when she opens her mouth and begins to talk, I can see that her two top teeth are missing. "Who's this?"

"This is daddy's friend I told you about don't be rude Ellie" Sarah whispers as she turns so she's facing her sister. Ellie looks up at me, her head cocking to the side as she takes me in. "I went to your concert" she whispers, "it was too loud" she mutters before walking a bit closer. Her father chuckles behind me. "We-well, I'm sorry bout that," I whisper with a little laugh. "she's the one who has a cat," Sarah whispers and it seems like Ellie's eyes instantly turn into two hearts. "Cat? what's its name?" Ellie asks as she approaches me. "His name is Ollie," I reply as I kneel, so I'm face to face with her. "Can I come see him?" she asks. I nod "Yeah if your daddy lets you" She looks up at her father and puts on the cutest puppy dog eyes. "Can I go see the cat, Daddy?"

"Maybe one day El" I feel a tiny hand wrap around mine before I'm quickly pulled back to my full height and pulled out of the living room "Let's go play y/n!" 

-

I'm outside in the backyard chasing around all the kids in the backyard while Joel and his father grill burgers on the deck. "ahhhh you can't catch me!" Ellie screams as I grab ahold of her arm and pull her towards me. We both topple to the ground as I begin tickling her. She screams out loud giggles as she tries to squirm away. Once she finally gets away, she stands up and places her hands on both her knees, trying to catch her breath. I sit up noticing Joel has now walked back inside. "Hey, I'm gonna go get a drink alright?!" I shouted, not only to acknowledge Ellie but to the other children who were playing as well. Ellie just nods as she breathes heavily. I push myself up off of the ground and begin to make my way up to the back door.

"May- maybe she could be like their mom. They need a mom, Joel. I know you are all they need, but they need a mother," I hear Joel's mom say as I open the back door slowly. Joel's mom stood at the counter, staring out the window above the sink as she prepared a salad. Joel stood next to her, chopping up the chicken. "I-momma she-we're-" I know what he means we're not real, this is temporary. I clear my throat before saying, "I-um, is there anything I can drink?" Joel's mother begins to swat at her son's arm. "Oh god sweetheart, I am so sorry. Joel, get your girlfriend a drink," she says before shoving him my way. "I-um..." he stutters, as he opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He hands the bottle to me.

"Let's go outside," he whispers before turning back towards his mom. "You got this, Mom?" she nods before shooing him away. His hand slots into mine perfectly as we walk outside. Everything about him made my heart just leap with excitement. It was embarrassing. We stand on the deck watching as the children run around screaming and laughing. "I don't know how they have that much energy," he chuckles as I twist the bottle cap open and take a swig. "Yeah, they wore me out in like 2 seconds," I reply with a smile. "They like you a lot, y'know Ellie and Sarah" I nod, I just wished they didn't. it wouldn't be this hard to break things off if they didn't like me. "Wish they wouldn't get so attached," I whisper. "It's not going to be easy on them when this ends." his face contorts into an expression I can't read. It's a mix of sadness and realization.

"y-yeah but you can still come around. As my friend, we don't have to not talk after this" I nod acting like I would, but I knew I probably wouldn't because it'd be too hard on me. I can't just be his friend, that's the problem. I wouldn't be able to see him with another girl without being heartbroken. "I know" 

-

Once everyone had left, I sat on the couch with both his children while Frozen was playing on the TV. "You need me to take you home?" Joel asks as he walks into the living room. I've been trying to convince myself it's time to break this off before the kids get too attached. I decided I should just rip the band-aid off before I had time to overthink it and not do it at all. "Um, actually..." I quickly rise to my feet. "Can we talk...alone?" Joel nods, his brows furrowing together in a questioning look.

I follow after him as he leads me to a room far enough away so the kids won't be able to hear us. His arms crossed over his chest as he asks, "What's up?" I take a deep breath in before saying, "We should stop this. I can't do this anymore." his brows furrow into a knot as I see the look in his eyes change from curious to hurt. His head cocks to the side "Wh-why? did you-" I shake my head as I run my hands through my hair "I-I um I can't talk about it." his hands shift so they're placed on his hips. Why did this hurt worse than any breakup I've ever experienced? Why was my heart shattering over a man I was never even in an actual relationship with? "I-I just need to know why. closure y'know," he whispers.

"I-I-" I sigh as my head lowers so I'm not making eye contact with him, "y/n..." my hand squeezes against my opposite arm hard as I try to keep quiet. I can't tell him. I can't, I just can't. "I-I think... I think I'm in love with you and I know you-" lips pressing against mine interrupt my words, instantly alleviating all my fears. Nothing mattered but his lips against mine. He pulls away and places his hand against my cheek. My lips chase after his, which makes him chuckle. "Do you l-" he cuts me off with a simple "mhm," and I nod before our lips meet again.

Taglist

@taylarxse @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @ktheunready @camixkami @skysmiller @mars743 @romeestrvjds @lightxzhan @alyhull @jenna-mcgraw19 @raindropsandteaandtears @winkuchu @lexloon @greensabereyesforcevictim @cozylibraries @celebrities-imagines @joeldjarin @nezukos-number1fan @abbysgirll @sadbloatedegg @hopelessromantic727

[maddie0101]

Skinny Love Series (Thomas TMR x FEM OFC)

Summary: the gladers throw the greenie a welcome party and the greenie can’t seem to keep his eyes off Blake.

Warnings: cussing, underage drinking

Word count: 1,705k

➭ Previous Chapter ➭ Series Masterlist ➭ Next Chapter

Blake stood beside Minho with her arms crossed as the boys lit the torches before them. Her eyes scan the area around her to try and find the newbie. "Light ''em up!" Alby yells, throwing his torch at the pile of wood stacked before them. Soon, the other boys follow the elder's lead, throwing theirs in as well. The flames grow in height and volume as it crackles and pops.

Drums beat as everyone chants, smiles plaster across the glader's faces as some boys start doing back flips. Blake smiles to herself; she loves her boys. They all had become her family, and she wouldn't trade them for the world.

When she first arrived, she had been terrified—being the only female in a place full of males, but she quickly learned they would do anything for her. None of the boys had ever really tried getting with her, considering she had informed them she would 'cut their dicks off' if they ever tried anything. The small girl always had a weapon on her also, never letting her guard down completely—that enough kept them away. Nevertheless, she loved them, and they loved her. Blake built trust and respect from the boys.

As long as they respected her, she would respect them.

Blake gazed around the grassy area in search of her missing best friend. Shifting her head in every direction—before her eyes landed on him, sitting in their favorite spot.

The girl smiles to herself, walking over to him, seeing the god-awful jar sitting in his hands. She nearly cringes at the sight of the liquid.

Plopping down next to the boy, she takes the jar away before he can take a sip. She grins as she brings the jar to her lips, gulping it down. Her eyes flick over to see the boy with his mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock and irritation.

"You shank! What the hell?" Minho scoffs in agitation.

After swallowing the liquid, Blake hands the jar back over to Minho, wiping her lips. Shrugging, Blake eyes the boy playfully as he quickly reaches out to steal the jar.

"What? I didn't drink it all?" She says, teasing the boy as she chuckles.

Minho rolls his eyes at her antics. "Go. Get. your own!" He scoffs as she attempts to grab the jar again, but he moves it away quicker, throwing it to the other side of him as she tries to reach for it.

Blake giggles at the boy beside her, caging his jar away from her reach.

A little while later, the crowd settles down a tad. The cool night air sends goosebumps to Blake's arms as she scans the area. Her head stops its sweep as she spots the greenie sitting next to Newt. The two boys lean their backs against a log as they converse with each other. Newt scarfs down his supper as Blake notices the greenie fiddling with his hands as he sits beside the blonde.

Gazing at the boy in front of her, Blake takes in his features again. His dark brown hair falling over his forehead, and his sharp jawline clenched as he toys with his hands...the veins in his hands protruding from his tanned skin.

God, that man is gorgeous.

From across the way, Newt shifts his head toward the greenie as he swallows a bite of his food.  "Hell of a first day, greenie." Newt says, cutting through the awkward silence.

"Here, put some hair on your chest." The blond says as he grabs a jar from below him, handing it over to the boy beside him.

The greenie's eyebrows furrow in confusion at the brown liquid, hesitating for a second before raising the jar to his lips.

Blake watches the scene from afar and smacks Minho on his chest, making the boy jump.  "Check it out, greenie's trying Gally's recipe." She laughs out, pointing to the two boys who sit against a log.

Newt grins at the boy, expecting an inevitable reaction. Sure enough, the greenie takes a large swig, coughing violently when the foul liquid burns down his throat. His hand raises to his chest as he tries to regain his breath.

"Oh my—oh my god, what is that?" The greenie manages to breathe out, pushing the jar back over to the laughing blonde.

"I don't even know." Newt giggles in between breaths, continuing to laugh. The greenie gags and coughs more as he tries to get the horrid taste out of his mouth.

"It's Gally's recipe. It's a trade secret.." Newt laughs as he looks over his shoulder at Gally and the other boys hollering, fighting in the circle.

The greenie mentally cringes at the taller boy's name. "Yeah, well, he's still an asshole."

"He saved your life today." Newt hummed in response before continuing, "Trust me, the maze is a dangerous place."

The greenie stays silent for a split second as his mind fits the puzzle pieces into place. "We're trapped here, aren't we?"

"For the moment."

Newt turns toward the runners as he lowers his jar.

"But..see those guys over there, by the fire?" Says as his finger points to the group. Following the blonde's line of sight and the finger-pointing—the greenie turns to see the runners conversing with each other.

"Those are the runners. And that guy in the middle there—That's Minho, he's the keeper of the runners. Now, every morning when those doors open...they run the maze, mapping it. Memorizing it, trying to find a way out."

Hope surged through the greenie's system at the idea that someone was actually doing something. His eyes land on the only female in the glade, chatting with Minho as she swallows a sip of the disgusting beverage.

"How long have they been looking?" The greenie wonders, gazing at the girl next to Minho.

"Three years." Newt responds to the greenie's question.

Minho's eyes flicker from Blake to the two boys in front of them, noticing a certain pair of brown eyes gaze at the girl beside him. Bumping Blake in the ribs with his elbow, the girl lets out a small yelp, jumping at the jab to her side. Blake's confused eyes find Minho's.

"Looks like Greenie has a staring problem." Minho nods to the two boys in front of them.

Blake's head slowly turns as her eyes land on the boy staring at her. Their eyes connect immediately as Blake feels butterflies tingling in her stomach.

"Newt must've told him about us-runners. He's probably just curious." Blake shrugs, playing it off.

"Yeah—curious about what's under your clothes." Minho says with a laugh, earning a slap from Blake.

From afar, the greenie watches as the two laugh at something—the girl hitting Minho's chest like he said something funny. The brunette boy's jaw ticks as he fiddles with his hands.

"Are they together?" The boy asks curiously, gesturing his head towards the two lead runners.

Newt's eyes flicker up to the greenie and follow his gesture—Of course this shank would be trying to get in her pants.

Newt shakes his head while chuckling. "Might as well be, but I don't think they like each other like that." Newt pauses his sentence as he swallows a gulp of the moonshine, cringing at the sour taste. "Personally, I think Minho has a crush on Blake, but if he does— he hasn't acted on it. Guess he doesn't want to ruin their friendship."

"Blake won't get with anyone around here. I think it's because she doesn't want conflict between anyone. Many gladers pin over her, but she doesn't want anything to do with them."

The greenie's eyes flicker from Newt to the girl as he talks. Ever since he had seen her running out of the maze, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. There was something about her that pulled his eyes toward her like a magnetic force.

The greenie clears his throat as he awkwardly shifts to get comfortable, finally tearing his eyes away from the female. "How long has—Blake—been here?" He asks, testing the waters of her name rolling out of his mouth.

At first, he had heard Newt say her name, talking about her being a runner. The blonde had mentioned Blake had tried the exact thing he did, sprinting toward the maze on her first day, but the greenie had thought Newt was referring to another boy. Since 'Blake' was usually a guy's name. So he had thought nothing of it.

"Two years, she came up the box a few months after I got here. We were all surprised when a girl came up. Thought they would eventually send another up, but to this day, she's still the only one." Newt informs the boy beside him, who still fiddles with his hands.

Newt breathed out a sharp laugh, remembering Blake's first day. "Gally went to get her out of the box, but the first thing she did was sock him right in the face." He said, chuckling at the memory.

Newt had watched the girl as they opened the doors to the box; she laid on her back clutching her wrist—looking terrified. As soon as Gally jumped down and grabbed the girl—she punched him, making the rest of the boys die with laughter, including Newt.

"You should have seen it; it was awesome...but much like you, she instantly started running towards the maze and would've gotten through those doors if Minho hadn't tackled her."

The greenie's eyes finally look back at the girl, gazing at her from afar. His eyebrows knit together as his eyes trail over her face with confusion. Why does she look familiar?

From across the fire, Blake's eyes rise to once again meet the greenie's.

He really does have a staring problem doesn’t he? Maybe Min is right…

Something about those whiskey-colored eyes had Blake wondering where she had seen them from. But it's not like she can remember anything at the moment, given she recalls nothing before arriving at the glade.

But still, he looks somewhat familiar to the girl the more she looks at him.

➭ Next Chapter

Author’s note:

This series is complete. I am transferring it from Wattpad to Tumblr. If you would like to read the fic without having to wait on me to post the chapters, my Wattpad is: @Maddie5139

Also, if you would like to be tagged lmk!

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Stage fright

i struggled a lot to write this week, exam season had started and I'm dying, but I managed to catch a little break today, so here you go

Taglist: @ziptiesnfries @lumpofsand, @fleur-a-whump

TW: asphyxiation (collar too tight), manhandling, dehumanisation, Oli can't catch a break

previous masterlist next

They were on the way to a concert, as much as Oliver understood, it was a promotional event at a small venue, and the pictures taken mattered more than the music they played. They sat in the tour bus, as prepared as they managed to be on their own, since Diana had bigger fish to fry that afternoon, her absence left them in a rather relaxed, almost cheerful mood. Granted, they were far from as well put together as usual and they were late, they were talking to each other, joking and laughing about the upcoming performance.

When they arrived at the venue, the driver could barely pull up by the entrance. They could all hear the deafening screaming and chanting from the fans waiting for them already. Eddie and Will immediately stood and looked out the window, waving and throwing kisses, much to the crowd’s pleasure, while the other two anxiously checked to make sure the security guards got to the door to escort them through. 

Oliver sat quietly, with his hands folded in his lap over the book he brought with himself, so he could stay entertained while the band played. He planned to stay on his appointed couch and finish at least two more chapters; his luck seemed to have run out, though, because the last moment before leaving the bus, James decided to bring him with, and grabbed him harshly by the collar.

Being pulled into the crowd of people felt like being dropped in the middle of the ocean with no lifebuoy to hold him up, he was immediately pulled underwater. He remembered bitterly when he thought the couple of PAs and makeup assistants at the studio was a crowd, he had to redefine the term really quick. 

The sheer volume of people was nothing Oliver had ever seen before, it was dizzying to look around and see the hundreds of faces staring back at him, yelling things he couldn’t even make sense of, and while the boys were shielded but the guards bodies, safe from the eager hands reaching to touch them, they arrived at the entrance perfectly unscathed, only Eddie had to run a hand through his hair so it sat just right. 

Oliver was far from that lucky, the guard simply grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him behind as if he was part of the luggage they carried their instruments in. He was not safe from the hands touching and grabbing at his clothes and hair, pulling him in all directions but the entrance. He felt the book, he still held onto as if his life depended on it, rip and he hoped it wasn’t missing crucial parts.

When he was finally pushed in the entrance of the building by the guard, his hair fell in his face, bruises littered his upper arms and the book in his hand was missing it’s cover. He sniffled quietly, trying to hide how badly he was hurt. Khai shook his head.

“Next time don’t let the crowd rip him apart” he told the guard, who dismissively waved a hand at him. At least Khai tried. They arrived at a semi-open area behind the stage, where they were already setting up the sound system and bringing several instruments on stage, a few of which Oliver recognised as Khai and Will’s guitars they comfortably forgot in the living room on multiple occasions before, earning Oli a slap for touching it the first time he tried to bring it back to his room. The instruments were treated as sacred objects in the household.

He was led to sit on the ground next to a row of chairs that were meant for the artists, none of whom actually sat down to rest. He counted the names of at least four more artists and bands outside them scribbled across boxes and other equipment. He wondered if they would be up first so they could leave. 

As the afternoon turned to evening, and darkness started settling above the stage the noise coming from the crowd became louder and louder chanting songs and names they wanted on the stage.

The performers didn’t seem bothered by it, they continued to stand around and chat mostly near the area a bar was set up in. There were many people rushing around, some with colourful lanyards dangling from their necks, some with microphones and headsets, it was the already familiar chaos of public appearances. 

He was delighted, when the lights were turned on above him, as he finally had a chance to open his roughed up book and continue to read and escape reality for a little while.

His newfound quietude wasn’t long lived though, as he saw a heavily tattooed arm reach into his view and took away the book. He looked up to find himself being stared down by Eddie looming over him.

“What do you think you’re doing, puppy?” he asked, barely hiding his annoyance as Oliver felt his eyes piercing deep to his soul. 

“Reading?” he answered quietly. He wasn’t sure what it was again he messed up, but he knew that he would face whatever consequences the singer saw fit. 

“Do you know how rude that is?” he asked, and fiddled with the book he took from the pet, turning the pages absentmindedly. Oliver watched his every move with wary eyes. Please just don’t rip the book apart. He shook his head. 

“New rule, you don’t distract yourself when were performing” Oliver barely had time to react, as the singer dropped the item on the ground and stepped on it, just to grab him by the collar and pull him up so they were eye to eye.

“Do you understand?” the singer shook him, when he didn’t reply. He nodded.

“You’re fucking useless” Eddie spat and dropped him back on his knees “You know what?” his eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, he got an idea. He lifted Oli’s chin with a rough motion as he unbuckled and readjusted the collar. The band was announced on stage, he could see the other three guys line up at the stage waiting for the singer, who just waved at them to go before turning back to the boy.

He tried to pull away, when he figured out what the singer planned to do, earning him a strong backhanded slap, that stung more than it should have. Eddie fastened the collar around his throat restricting the airflow.

“All you have to do now is listen” he smiled, eyes void of all emotion, and he ran after the others earning a roar of applause as he got on stage.

Oliver really did try to hear anything from the concert, but all he managed to make out were half words and the crowd growing louder with each set. His head was pounding, he felt every single heartbeat in his throat, as the blood fought its way past the tight leather. He tried to ask for help, but he couldn’t force enough air in or out to alert anyone around, not like they seemed to notice his existence at all. He worked hard for every breath, and tried to ignore the dark spots that started appearing all around the periphery of his vision, total darkness threatening to encapsulate him fully.

Only one thing snapped him out of his deep concentration for a brief second, when he noticed something running down on the side of his face. He reached up to his cheek that still stung from Eddie’s blow, to pull his hand away with red on his fingertips to his horror. 

One of the singer’s rings must’ve caught his skin, leaving a large horizontal wound on the right side of his face.

He reached up to unbuckle the collar, but his mind froze up with the heavily trained muscle memory of never being allowed to touch the leather around his neck, so he let his hand fall back into his lap, periodically trying to reach up again, and failing again. 

He barely noticed when the performance ended, he slumped back to the wall behind him to keep himself upright. His vision cleared suddenly, and he could suck in a deep breath. He couldn’t keep the relief for long, as a coughing fit took over his body, seizing his chest and throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay” came the gentle shushes and soothing headpats, he recognised from James “I adjusted it, it’s okay you can breathe now” 

As the coughs died down, a new broken sound of sobs bubbled up from his chest. The feeling of the collar around his neck was heavier than usual, and it was all he could think of. The feeling of choking on nothing burnt permanently in his mind.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he managed to whine into James’ shirt as he clung to him.

“It’s okay, darling, you’re okay” he shushed again, and turned the boy’s face towards himself with a frown “What the fuck happened to your face?” he asked, perplexed. Oliver’s hair fell all over his face successfully covering the bloody cut on his cheek. The drummer pushed it behind his ear to take a better look at.

“Eddie’s ring” Oliver sobbed, and immediately tensed up. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to tell. It was a guess anyway. It might have been something he hit his head on while struggling with the collar.

“Okay, okay, we’ll take a better look at it at home” James urged him to get up. He managed to grab his book, before stumbling forward to be caught by the boy “Fuck, can you even walk?” he asked sharply, making Oli recoil with fear, fortunately the anger in his voice wasn’t directed at him.

[sardonic-the-writer]

VALENTINES DAY WITH THE DAREDEVIL CREW <3

• Finally. The one day everyone could get a fucking break

• The firm didn't have any cases scheduled that day, and the city had been relatively peaceful for the past few weeks, so the gang at Nelson and Murdock took great comfort in being able to take a day off for some celebrating

• Josies bar was obviously the end game—as it always tended to be. With Foggy tugging you alongside him as he smiled goofily, Matt and Karen tagging along after the two of you, equally as excited about this day off

• "Come on, I want to show you this new drink me and Matt came up with the other night (Y/n). It tastes like someone squeezed a bunch of cherries into juice and shot it with electricity!!"

• "That doesn't even make sense Foggy. I can't fucking wait to try it."

• "Hell yeah!"

• Basically valentines day just ended up with Matt babysitting you and Foggy (and eventually Karen, after she had her fourth drink) while laughing

• "No. Hey—no. Foggy get off the counter. Sit down. I said sit down. I might be blind but I can hear (Y/n) chanting your name, so I know you're up on that counter again."

• Eventually all of you got cut off and kicked out, stumbling onto the now darkened street outside laughing wildly

• On the walk back to your respective apartments, you all took pleasure in belting out and butchering songs you had all heard on the radio that past week—a few pedestrians tossing you dirty looks at your loud volume

• Despite everyone, save Matt, waking up the next morning with splitting headaches, it had been one of the best valentines days any of you had ever had

[watchmenanon]

APRIL 28, 2017

Super Naturals

The wonder that is Stranger Things is at once a sweet story of simpler times and a spooky spin in the supernatural. For Netflix, the script by the Duffer brothers was a definite yes, as were the young actors whose bonds bedazzle on and off the set.

TATIANA SIEGEL

On a hot March morning in Atlanta, Finn Wolfhard and Noah Schnapp are rehearsing a scene for season two of Stranger Things.

Outside Screen Gems Studios, the sky is relentlessly bright, with the thermometer inching toward 86 degrees. Inside, it’s as dark and cool and secret as a military bunker. Director Andrew Stanton offers some last minute guidance before the camera rolls.

Stanton, the two-time Oscar winner behind WALL-E and Finding Nemo, took an unconventional approach in preparing to direct episodes five and six. He rewatched season one with the volume off. It’s obvious that even the smallest gesture is crucial. He tells Schnapp to touch the back of his neck when he delivers the line about feeling a troubling sensation in the back of his head.

“I geek out over the little things,” he explains a few minutes later. “But the touch made it all the more creepy.”

Wolfhard and Schnapp are sitting on a bed in what viewers have come to recognize as the Byers’s home, the one with the mysterious blinking Christmas lights and the sinister wall that Winona Ryder attacked with an axe in episode four of season one.

A Jaws poster hangs above a bookcase. The pajama-clad Schnapp, playing Upside Down escapee Will Byers, hits his line: “It’s like a dream, and you can’t remember it unless you think about it really hard.” But he flubs the follow-up and slaps his hand angrily.

Wolfhard, playing series star Mike Wheeler, cut him off too late. “I’m waiting for my cue,” offers Wolfhard, wearing a buttoned-up polo shirt, corduroys, old-school Pumas and a hoodie. Stanton tells the 14-year-old: “It’s okay if you don’t cut him off.”

Schnapp later explains his momentary frustration. “I just get angry when I mess up. It’s a professional business. It’s no game,” he says, sounding more like a seasoned thesp than a 12-year-old who will head to French, math and English classes at the on-set school later that day.

Back on set, the boys repeat the scene, this time for the camera. The dialogue is flawless, but now there’s a boom in the shot. So Wolfhard and Schnapp do it again. Three more times without a mistake, each time from a different angle.

“They rehearsed that only two times, and they nailed it,” Stanton marvels. “That’s a really long scene. They are just that good.”

As they prepare to break, Wolfhard and Schnapp face one another and begin slapping and clapping hands in a fixed pattern, chanting, “Concentration… 64.…” Are they prepping for the next scene? Some sort of protective charm against a mysterious foe? Nah. They’re just kids blowing off steam. Something Mike and Will would do, too.

Call it Hollywood’s version of the Upside Down, the inexplicable, parallel universe of Stranger Things. After all, who would have wagered on five unknown kids, a long-neglected Ryder and then–32-year-old twin brothers with few prospects to launch one of the most talked-about series of 2016?

But within days of its July 15 debut, the ’80s-set Stranger Things — created by Ross and Matt Duffer and led by Wolfhard, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin and Schnapp — quickly became a pop-culture phenomenon, complete with a Barack Obama–hosted White House visit in October and even a shout-out from a congressman on the House floor in February.

The series notched surprise wins for best drama ensemble at the SAG Awards and top drama series at the PGA Awards (beating out heavyweight Game of Thrones for both honors). Netflix aired a season-two spot during this year’s Super Bowl that drew more than 14 million views on YouTube.

And according to Google, Stranger Things was the most-searched-for show of 2016 around the world (it streams in 190 countries).

Still, the path to success wasn’t so linear. In 2014, the Duffer brothers were struggling writer-directors with only the unreleased horror film Hidden to their credit (the pic eventually was released straight-to-DVD). As they remember it, Stranger Things was envisioned as a movie, an homage to “the two Stevens/Stephens with different spellings — Spielberg and King,” Matt Duffer says.

They were making the rounds, taking studio meetings, “and people would ask us our movie ideas,” Ross Duffer adds. “And they weren’t very interested in any movie ideas that we had.”

They owed Warner Bros. a script and asked if they could adapt Stephen King’s It, a Stranger Things–esque book that the studio was developing with Cary Fukunaga attached to direct. “We didn’t even get in the room,” Matt Duffer recalls. “They said no.”

Undeterred, they embarked on writing Stranger Things , pivoting mediums from film to TV. But it was a difficult recalibration, given their lifelong obsession with movies, from E.T. to Jaws to Close Encounters of the Third Kind. “Growing up, I associated television with Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Like, I’m done with my homework and it’s something to pass the time,” Ross Duffer explains.

But after seeing the trailer for HBO’s True Detective — directed by Fukunaga — and finding it more enticing than 90 percent of the movies in theaters, Matt Duffer says it dawned on them that “this is actually the cooler place to be right now, given the current state of the industry.”

Coming of age in their native North Carolina in the mid-’90s, the Duffers didn’t have a basement like the Wheelers, nor any friends with telekinetic powers. But the goal was simple: to make a viewer feel the same as when he or she cracked open a big, fat King book.

“The first thing we wrote was the Dungeons & Dragons scene because it was so close to our experiences growing up,” Ross Duffer says. “We had a room over our garage, which was just not as cinematic. I wish our house looked like that. I wish a telepathic girl had dropped into our lives.”

They sent the pilot script around but found no takers until it landed on the right desk at Shawn Levy’s 21 Laps Entertainment, where senior vice-president Dan Cohen read it and immediately alerted Levy. Without hesitation, Cohen and Levy signed on to executive-produce the series — then titled Montauk — alongside the Duffers.

“Talent is talent. It’s just waiting for someone to bet on it,” Levy says. “We wanted to bet.”

So, too, did Netflix, which ordered the supernatural drama in April 2015. Casting would be key, potentially the separation between cheesy and brilliant.

The idea to target Ryder — a two-time Oscar nominee who rose to It Girl status in the ’80s but whose career had cooled considerably in the new millennium — to play a single mother trying to track down her missing tween was an early stroke of genius from casting director Carmen Cuba.

The Duffers and Levy invited Ryder to tea at L.A.’s Chateau Marmont for a conversation that lasted several hours and ranged from secret government testing to missing children. “I remember Winona: ‘What is this new kind of television on your computer?’” Levy says with a laugh. “We left that tea slightly exhausted but quite certain this was our Joyce Byers.”

But finding the right kids proved to be far more exhaustive, with the Duffers and Levy seeing some 1,000 aspirants. The trick was finding kids who looked “regular” and not like slick child actors.

Gaten Matarazzo, a stage actor from New Jersey whose Broadway credits included Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Les Misérables, was the first cast, as Dustin Henderson, the perpetually picked-on boy with a lisp.

Next was Millie Bobby Brown, who landed the breakout role of Eleven, the buzz-cut waif with psychokinetic abilities. The British actress says she perfected an American accent by watching TV and just observing people. After sending a self-tape to Cuba, she was asked to provide another and another and still another. She wouldn’t allow herself to get her hopes up, though.

“I always get really close on something,” Brown says, then it’s, “‘Oh, we’re picking the other girl because….’” But the series of tapes led to a Skype call and then a trip to L.A., where she won over the Duffer brothers.

McLaughlin, another Broadway actor who played Young Simba in The Lion King, nabbed the role of Lucas Sinclair, the member of the gang most suspicious of Eleven’s arrival.

Then came Schnapp, whose screen time in season one is limited but who plays a significant role in season two. The angel-faced boy with an uncanny resemblance to Ryder (his screen mom) recalls coming to L.A. for a so-called chemistry test and being paired with McLaughlin.

Fortunately, the two suburban New Yorkers already had bonded at the hotel pool. But Schnapp returned home without the job and headed to upstate New York for sleepover camp, where he was allowed only three incoming phone calls.

One day, his mother called with the Duffer brothers on the line. “I’m like, ‘Who’s Will?’ ‘Cause I didn’t know what they were talking about,” he says. “And then I realized it was ‘cause I originally auditioned for Mike when I auditioned for the role. And I started freaking out. It brightened the rest of my summer.”

Wolfhard was last. The Vancouver native, who started acting at eight, was sick in bed when he did his self-tape, which was “super out of focus, my dad’s finger was in the frame, super unprofessional.” But the Duffers loved it and Skyped with Wolfhard, then flew him to L.A. twice over a two-week period. But two months passed with no word.

“Out of nowhere, I got a call from Matt saying that I got the part, and that was really, really cool,” Wolfhard says of landing the lead. Ironically, Wolfhard was available to tackle the series only because Fukunaga had just dropped out of King’s It.

Wolfhard already had landed the role of Richie Tozier in that film, which was now suddenly on hold. It eventually recovered with Andrés Muschietti in the director’s chair, and Wolfhard was able to fit the project in between seasons of Stranger Things. It will hit theaters in September, some seven weeks before the second-season debut of Stranger Things on Halloween night.

To prepare their Fab Five, the Duffers assigned a list of movies to watch, including E.T., The Goonies, Jaws and Poltergeist. But nothing could equip the young stars for the show’s rabid fandom.

“On my Instagram,” McLaughlin says, “[it’s] like, ‘Brazil loves you.’ People from all around the world… France, Mexico, Africa...”

Brown says she never tires of the fervor surrounding Eleven. “I don’t really want to call them my fans. They’re kind of like my friends,” says the 13-year-old. “And I can’t say no to a picture. Obviously, I would do the same thing to Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson. This 90-year-old came up and he was like, ‘I love you!’ It was really sweet.”

Perhaps most important was the vote of approval that came from Mr. King himself. The author tweeted several thumbs-ups in July, including: “STRANGER THINGS is pure fun. A+. Don’t miss it. Winona Ryder shines.”

Of course, an email exchange with the Duffer brothers ensued. “It took me four hours to write a five-sentence email,” Matt Duffer jokes. “I had to check the grammar with all my writers. I was very nervous about it.”

The kids also are enjoying the perks of being labeled TV sensations, including hanging with people they’ve long admired. Matarazzo singles out a meeting with Sarah Paulson. “She’s a wonderful person, and to hear compliments from her, it was, like, ‘wow,’” he says, sounding rather grown up for a 14-year-old.

For the 15-year-old McLaughlin, nothing compares to getting feedback from President Obama. “He’s like, ‘I like the bond the boys have on the show. They never gave up looking for their friend.’”

That dynamic the president noticed isn’t just a put-on for the cameras. Wolfhard and Matarazzo frequently hit the multiplex in tandem and caught Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens together. McLaughlin and Matarazzo compete against each other in video games. Retro ’80s games, naturally. “Pac-Man, yeah. I’m even wearing the Pac-Man shirt,” he says, pointing at his street clothes.

Brown, who describes herself as “a real girl’s girl in pink and pearls and rings and necklaces,” has managed to fit in with the boys by taking up whiffle ball. She and Schnapp have formed a close friendship. “Noah comes around almost every weekend for sleepovers,” she says. “We watch really scary movies on Netflix like The Babadook and Hush.”

Ultimately, they all are sharing in a secret that is being guarded more closely than a Project MKUltra experiment being carried out at the fictitious Hawkins Laboratory: what will happen in season two.

As evidence of the major secrecy involved this year, Building 5 — where a camera test is about to take place with a new character — is off-limits to press today. Day players and non-essential crew also are cleared. Only hair and makeup and a few key crewmembers remain. Keeping a lid on potential spoilers is serious business.

“My brother always asks me, ‘Gate, can you send me the script?’” Matarazzo says. “I’m like, ‘It’s a new season, and it’s a lot stricter than last year.’ He read them last year, but this year he’s not able to ‘cause we don’t want any, like, hacking interference.”

Hacking, indeed. The danger serves as a jarring reminder of today’s less-than-innocent times — and explains part of the appeal of Stranger Things: it harks back to an era not long ago but definitely out of reach, when people made eye contact, kids tore through neighborhoods on their bikes unsupervised and no one was enslaved by a beeping device.

Schnapp says his father schooled him on the mindset of the ’80s. “They were always outside. It’s all phones and computers now. You know, I kind of miss the ‘80s. Even though I wasn’t alive,” he says with a laugh, catching his own absurdity.

But viewers of Stranger Things — be they 12 or 90 — understand that universal feeling.

[i-am-the-oyster]

Accessing the Stowe School Recording

What is the Stowe School Recording?

On the 4th of April 1963 (two weeks after the release of Please Please Me) the Beatles played a gig at Stowe School in Buckinghamshire. One of the students present (John Bloomfield) recorded the gig, and recently rediscovered that recording. He donated it to the British Library, which means anyone can go and listen to it (see below for details).

Is it worth it?

Obviously your mileage may vary, but for me that answer is definitely yes. I wasn't expecting the recording to be over an hour long, but I stayed and listened to the whole thing. I reckon I'll go back again if I can fit it in next time I'm in London.

Alright, how do I listen to it?

The recording is free to listen to, and is available in the Sound Archive at the British Library in London. The building is about 2 minutes walk from King's Cross St Pancras. (map)

You need a Reader Pass to access the room. If you're a UK citizen you can just get one on the day, but if you're not then I recommend starting the process online before you go.

You will need:

Photo ID

Proof of address

They give you an ID card that's valid for 3 years. The process was pretty straightforward and the staff are very helpful. They have very good cloakroom facilities and free secure lockers, so if you have carry-on sized luggage with you, you can store it there while you visit.

They're very strict about what's allowed into the reading rooms, so plan to use the lockers.

Once you have your card, go to the Rare Books and Music reading room on Floor 1. Marvel at the ancient tomes people are carefully examining. Find a computer with a set of headphones attached (towards the back right of the room) and set yourself up. If you have your own laptop you can use one of the empty spots in that area.

Search the catalogue for something like "Stowe Beatles". There are pages and pages of other recordings you might also like to listen to.

What's the playlist?

I Saw Her Standing There Too Much Monkey Business Love Me Do Some Other Guy Misery I Just Don’t Understand A Shot of Rhythm and Blues Boys! Matchbox From Me To You Thank You Girl Memphis Tennessee A Taste of Honey Twist and Shout Anna Please Please Me Hippy Hippy Shake I’m Talking About You Ask Me Why Till There Was You Money (there's a section here where the tape got recorded over with an incredibly annoying song) I Saw Her Standing There (reprise)

My highlights

Stowe School was an all-boys school at the time, but it's clear from the recording that there are girls at the gig.

Boys! gets a huge response, and I'm pretty sure it's Ringo singing Matchbox immediately after. Later (around 55m) the crowd starts chanting for Ringo to sing again.

There's a good amount of banter between John and Paul, not all of it very clear. I'd love a chance to sit and listen to those parts over and over again, and see what I can make out. Alas I didn't have time, and I only had the in-browser audio player, which made it basically impossible to hop around.

The crowd starts shouting out requests at some point, and some boys shout for A Taste of Honey. There's some laughter, and the timing of it sounds to me like John is mugging.

Towards the end someone shouts for How Do You Do It and one or John or Paul sings the opening phrase, with an audible smile, but they don't sing it.

Anything else?

If you can, I recommend bringing your own laptop and headphones. There are computers and headphones there, but the browser interface is not ideal for going to specific timestamps, you have limited control over volume, and I think you'd get more out of it with medium to high end headphones.

If you want to skip the truly awful song that got recorded over a section of the tape, the original comes back in around 1:01:25.

In the same building they have some of Hunter Davies's donation on display in the Treasures Gallery. This was a small selection on the day I went, and I was pretty disappointed, but they do rotate those displays every six months. It may also be possible to access the other items for research purposes, I haven't investigated that yet.

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

me and my gf went to see the movie friday night and i think it was one of my favourite memories ever, like i came home and my mouth literally hurt from smiling so much. the theatre had like a designated dancing area at the front right below the screen, and they encouraged singing along. everyone was REALLY into it just like i was and knew all the chants and wanted to dance through the upbeat pop numbers (never have appreciated how the set list was sandwiched between kinda upbeat sets and ones you can sit down for). our theatre had the volume loud enough that everyone was singing along and you could just hear taylor no matter how loud anyone sang, which was just what i wanted lol—no one was particularly quiet but she was so loud it didn’t matter. i could like, feel the music in my BONES. i felt like a deep bond with everyone there, i kept making eye contact with people while singing and we were both just grinning at each other. this one girl took pictures with me and my girlfriend before we left. one girl started crying at the end, and we gave her friendship bracelets. we were like, hugging with strangers by the end. it was such a magical experience feeling this sense of community over this shared thing we all love in person. we hadn’t traded all of our bracelets with people at our own showing so we traded a bunch of our bracelets with people in line for the next one too. i’ve never felt such a sense of community with strangers or felt so safe and able to just be myself. it was the most special memory. so thank you taylor for giving me that perfect night, it was everything i could have hoped for ❤️❤️❤️❤️ i sorta want to go again in a little bit but i know the experience won’t be as high energy in a few weeks, i’m debating it lol

Friend!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your experience - that is so beautiful and I’m so glad you had such a transformative and amazing time at your showing.

This is also totally what I mean about it being such a great concert-adjacent opportunity that is a great equalizer to make the Eras Tour more accessible for more people while still offering a fun and engaging experience for fans to gather and enjoy the tour together.

[justices-blade]

19. A memory of someone they don’t see anymore

✧ meme-ories!

The Missus is dead.

For all winter claims, it doesn't take her. Noone knows what took her, really. It's a mild spring day that drags on like molasses, kids quietly shuffling around to hang out laundry to dry, shanking eachother with wet towels to try and make eachother yell, get them in trouble. Others whisper at eachother under the clatter of dishes, while the ones who've already done their chores sit silently playing with the wooden blocks with tooth marks on them. There's a few numbered clotheshooks that are newly empty. The winter was cold and harsh.

His and Finch's autumn coats still hang side-by side. They can't afford winter ones. These, too, are going to other kids next season. Finch is stacking tin cups because he always lets the younger kids have the blocks. A girl tries to nick a cup, eager for the cacophany of collapse. ████ slaps her hand away.

"Party pooper," she snips, slapping his hand back. ████ scowls, about to snark at her for it (and his volume would eventually, inevitably, spiral just a bit too loud, and he'd be in trouble), but someone else beats him to the punch — Everyone's heads snap around when the noise starts.

A dish breaks. A fight? There's hardly much better to do when they're not let outside enough because there's only one Missus to keep an eye on them all, even if the older kids turn into little Missuses when they can, with favor to curry and authority to get hopped up on because they know how this place works best. Sit straight, don't bounce your leg, be quiet, do your chores. Peel those potatoes, fetch the play clothes, recite your numbers. Stop giggling. Stop crying. You will cry when I make you. Don't run in the hallways. Where are you looking? Pay attention. Wretched girl, why can't you pay attention?

But fights bring even the older kids back to being just kids as they jeer and chant at the little fists flying and the grunting and biting and shrieking. But the fight drags on, and the Missus doesn't show up to give them a screaming and a walloping — The two girls gradually stop attempting to tear eachother's hair out, realising before anyone else that something's wrong. The fight stops as soon as it started, and they join hands to start dutifully cleaning up the shards of the broken plate to hide away, like they never fought. A boy peeks out of the closet with the faulty lock that the Missus locked him in for dropping the fresh laundry.

It doesn't take long for what's wrong to really settle in.

Another boy he only knows as number seven, a snitch through and through, runs down the hallway, face ashen. "Oi! Someone get an apothecary!" he shrieks — But ████ is already bounding down the way he came, slamming open the door to the sewing room without thinking. She's on the floor, rolling in the dust, now no better than any of them.

The Missus doesn't even scold him or threaten the cane for all the noise he makes. She doesn't even sneeze.

That's because she's dead.

[somacruising]

A White Future, Volume 2 Episode: Ion, Sync, & Florian Translation Part 5

Prev | Next

Well, now that we’ve seen what happened to Florian and Ion in the last chapter, we’re going back to Sync and looking into one of his training sessions with Van, as well as his first time meeting Arietta. This section is one of the many that are a really good look into Sync’s head.

* * *

A thunderclap echoed through the woods.

A blade of lightning ripped through the trees, forming shallow hollows in the area. Van easily dodged the huge, wind-attributed sword.

“You’re too slow! Do it again!” Van scolded Sync.

They were using a sparse forest on the outskirts of Daath as a training ground.”

“Damn it…!” Sync bit his lip before he began chanting again.

* * *

“You've improved a lot.” Van called out to Sync, who was breathing heavily.

Sync didn’t reply.

“What's wrong? Aren't you happy?”

Sync looked up at Van through his mask and spoke curtly, “I’m not happy.”

“You're not? You can hone your skills as much as you want. I'm going to have you work for me as my direct subordinate... Then, let me hear what’s on your mind.”

Van put his hand on Sync’s shoulder and led him into a tree’s shade.

“It's not that I don't like training...” Sync started, then paused to wipe away at the sweat dripping from under his mask.

“I don't...know what I'm doing this training for. You've taught me a lot, you've drawn a fonic glyph on me so I can manipulate the Seventh Fonon as best as I can, but...I was born to be a substitute for the Fon Master, wasn't I? This kind of training is unnecessary for that purpose.”

“I see.” Van chuckled to himself, thinking that this one had a mouth on him.

“It is true that another replica than you is sitting on Ion's chair, but I do not think that his life will be better. Even if he is revered as the Fon Master, everything will be decided for him - he will be nothing more than a puppet. On top of that, he will have many enemies. That isn't freedom.”

“...Freedom?”

Sunlight was piercing through the sky and glimmering on Sync's mask.

“Yeah, I may be under restrictions, and I'm more free than the seventh Ion. But what’s the point? Don't try glossing things over. You're only trying to use me as you please.”

“I am putting your potential into practice. If you don't like it, you can throw yourself back into Mt. Zaleho. If you want to hate something, hate the Score that brought you to life.” Van's eyes twinkled.

“...Yeah. I think I'll do that,” Sync laughed sarcastically. “I'm free. You've gone out of your way to acquire me, but it's still up to me whether I live or not.”

‘How is that possible—?’ Van thought in shock, ‘A replica would consider suicide...? I never thought of the possibility. Seems we should have programmed them so that they avoid self harm.’

Van was once again pleased with himself for picking up the Sync from the crater. With him, he could learn more about replicas than he would ever be able to with Luke.

‘But Sync, I will not let you die until I can no longer see value in you. You can throw yourself to the depths of the earth all you want, I will always come and pick you up.’

“Listen, Sync." Van squinted towards the city of Daath, which was hidden behind a grove of trees. “Both of us hate the Score—in that, you and I are the same.”

“What!?”

“I think you and I are on the same page on that matter.”

“What do you mean?"

The replica's expression was now completely different from the one Van had seen earlier. The intense concentrated look in his eyes made Van smile.

* * *

“I see him. That's the new Ion.”

Van pushed open the narrow door to the room where Ion’s replica was being educated. He looked down at Sync.

“Soon the current Fon Master will pass away and be replaced. Remember his face well, and never make contact with him.”

“Remember…? We have the same face,” Sync snorted while quietly peeking into the room.

Ion turned his profile toward them, now facing a few men—most likely researchers. He looked like he was in the middle of one of his required lectures on how to be the Fon Master. For some reason, Ion was smiling, even though he seemed to have an overcrowded schedule day after day.

Sync thought that the boy certainly didn’t seem to have much freedom. But he couldn’t understand why he was smiling so calmly.

‘I guess it’s because he's been chosen as the Fon Master’s substitute and is being treated well, unlike me.’

Envy welled up inside of Sync. He quickly looked at the furnishings in Ion’s room.

He wasn’t officially the Fon Master yet, but the desk, bed, and bookshelves were all high-end.

‘Is he really the same replica as me…? I can't believe we were made from the same source.’

At that moment, Ion turned his head towards them, as if sensing their presence. Van pulled Sync out of the way just in time to keep Sync from being spotted.

“There’s no need to stay any longer,” Van said. “Let's go back."

Van did not miss the hurt look on the boy's face.

“Whatever abilities you were born lacking, Sync, you’re stronger than him now.”

Sync sighed. “I don’t care for your flattery.”

The two of them passed through a couple of fonic circles and went out into the main hall of the church.

“Shh. Do you hear that?” Sync, ever-perceptive, stopped walking. He thought he heard the sounds of faint sobbing. It was coming from the chapel.

“Who is…” Gently, Sync peeked through the door and saw a girl.

Van ordered Sync to wait for him and entered the chapel alone.

“What's wrong, Arrietta?” Van asked.

The one who was crying, curled up in the last row of seats, was Arietta, the original Ion’s Fon Master Guardian.

“…Van." Arietta looked up with a start. Her eyes were wet. “Ion is…”

“The Fon Master will get better soon.”

"You’re lying!" Arietta glared at Van. “Then, why can’t I go see him in his room anymore!?”

“Who kicked you out?” Van asked.

“It was Mohs.”

‘Of course he did,’ Van thought. ‘He's trying to manipulate the next Ion according to his will. If he doesn't remove the ones close to the original, it won't add up when he switches them—’

“Mohs must want him to rest and recuperate.”

”No, I don’t believe that!” Arietta shook her head vehemently. “I want to be with Ion. I’m so sad that I can’t see him. Ion knows that I’m sad. So…”

“You miss him.”

“Yes, I do! Because he’s my Ion! It's times like this that I want to be with him!”

“…” Van stared at Arietta. The girl from the sinking Isle of Feres, the girl he had picked up, had somehow grown up to have feelings for the Fon Master.

’I pity her, but I suppose I'll have to deceive her. It’ll hurt me to lose out on information I could get from her, but…’ Van thought.

He recalled that Sync had previously threatened him with suicide. Van wasn’t sure if he had been serious or not, but even a replica could choose death. It was obvious what Arietta would think after losing her original.

Sync observed this exchange closely from behind the heavy doors of the chapel.

‘You're the original Fon Master’s Guardian…’ Sync thought. ‘What an idiot, you don't even know that the Fon Master will die soon.’

He twisted his lips as he coldly watched Arrietta. Suddenly, Sync heard a sound behind him.

Sync turned around and was startled for just a moment. Even though they were in the cathedral, there were two large monsters staring at him, snarling low in their throats.

It was the first time Sync had ever seen a liger, but he had encountered and defeated medium-sized monsters in the woods during his training.

“What the hell…I'll kill you!'”

Van noticed Sync’s killing intent. Arrietta saw that the monster was closing in on the boy.

“No! Come here!” Arietta shouted in a panic. Then, strangely enough, the monsters that had been about to jump on Sync suddenly stopped threatening him and began to walk meekly toward Arietta.

“That surprised me…are you keeping them as pets?” Sync asked.

“Huh?” Was all Arietta could say. She looked between Van and Sync in confusion. Van hadn’t told her anything about Sync.

“When I see Mohs next, I’ll advise that he allow you into the sick room,” Van said.

Then, he and Sync left the chapel. When Van returned to Sync’s side, he spoke in a hushed tone, “You heard her. She is the current Fon Master Guardian. That girl…has the ability to communicate with monsters.”

“Communicating with monsters?” Sync asked.

“Yes,” Van replied, “those monsters are more like friends to her than pets to be kept. They protect her.”

“Heh. So, the Guardian is being guarded.”

Van ignored Sync’s mocking tone. “That is the nature of their relationship. I’m going to leave for Baticul, now. Don’t forget to train while I’m away.”

With that said, Van left for the Oracle Knights Headquarters.

Sync stood there in silence.

When Van was out of sight, Sync quietly turned around. He saw Arrietta hugging the monster’s thick neck in her arms and laughing as it licked her cheeks.

“Even though you’ve been crying all this time,” Sync spat at her and went back to his room to avoid being seen.

The room Van had given Sync was on the outskirts of Daath. It was a small room and not well-lit inside, little more than a shed.

Until now, Sync had thought this was fine for keeping out of sight and out of mind. But he couldn’t help thinking about the new Ion’s room that he’d seen that day. Despite the fact that it was a temporary room, there were no cheap items in it that would bring down the dignity of the room. The clothes and hair ornaments must have been custom-made, of course.

“Damn it!” Sync threw the pillow on his hard bed against the wall.

‘What's so different between us? I'm the fifth, he's the seventh... I was born first! Why didn't they choose me?!’

He felt he was becoming mad with jealousy. He hit the bed's wooden frame, kicked the chair, and, lastly, flung off his mask. Trembling with rage, he traced the outline of his face with his fingers.

'We have... the same face... If you don't need me, don't keep me alive!'

As his fingers slid on his cheeks, he couldn’t resist thinking about what he saw in the chapel.

'Arietta protects the Fon Master, and is protected by her monsters...'

Sync believed that people spent their lives creating bonds with others by protecting them and being protected in return.

‘I have no one to protect, and no one will ever protect me. I don't have any bond with anyone.’

He was just alive, completely excluded from this circle called the world. No one truly needed him. He had no place to call his own.

Sync couldn't forgive the ones who created him. They may blame it on the Score, but it is humans who rely on the Score the most.

‘I want revenge, but on whom!?’

Sync cursed his foolish existence, that held no hope for a future, and wept.

[tasteofdeathao3]

all babies have tantrums of course but Izzy? the absolute worst tantrums conceivable. they happen four or five times a year and last a good few days, a full day and night of screaming, another two of crying and wailing apologies, and another of spaced out naps so he can catch up on aaaaallll his lost energy.

usually stede can sort of tell when it's about to happen, and can make arrangements for Ed to have a sleepover, but sometimes it just bursts up out of nowhere and Stede has to quickly move Ed away from the majority of the noise (which doesn't really work, because even though the screaming and shouting upsets him he desperately wants to find Izzy and make him feel better) and try to find someone who'll be willing to take him for a couple of days or until he ages up (Fang, it's always Fang). He can get a fair bit scared if Izzy kicks up into the screaming before he's gone, but Stede always kisses his cheek just so before letting Fang buckle him up, making him promise to come home on time for dinner, just because he misses him so much.

Most of the first day is just spent sitting beside Izzy as he kicks and fails. his ears hurt with the volume and pitch Izzy manages to reach but he doesn't leave. he only steps in when Izzy either tries to knock something down or is going to hurt himself. it can go either way, sometimes Izzy lets stede wrangle him around and cries out into is chest, others he fights against him and screams louder until he's let go.

eventually the yelling tapers off into crying and he's tucked into bed beside Stede, sniffling and hiccuping.

The next few days he spends attached to Stede's hip, either wailing and crying as he chants 'sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, pleas' 'm sorry, I love you, sorry," as stede shushes and pets him, or dead silent as he latches onto Stede's side and follows him wherever he goes.

he's a very sleepy baby, especially after all the yelling and crying, and spends a while catching up with his sleep schedule. Stede is happy to give him the cuddles.

[guessilljusttumblonhometomycats]

We hit the Sunday matinee this past weekend. They had the cup the bucket and poster all in stock a week and a 3 days later (just saying don't give up on your dreams 😂). I also decided to ask what the actual rules are for a concert movie since my TikTok received some hate and was told if i danced I'd get hit by some moron with a big mouth and a cell phone. But it raised an interesting point ....and I asked the rules of the theater while there and this is what I was told (goes for all amc theaters)

in case anyone's interested :

It is ok to dance.

It is ok to sing.(sing don't scream terribly off key)

You can participate in the chants, yes but only at a reasonable volume level- she isn't gonna hear you from the screen (1 2 3 let's go bitch while also still being mindful that there's a theater next to you playing a movie with a possible plot, so don't belt it top notch - as long as they can't hear you, you should be Aite.)

Friendship bracelets and outfits are encouraged.

YOU MAY STAND UP !!!!

Basically the ONLY thing you can't do is :

Stand on your seat and dance

Stand on someone else's seat and dance

Stand up and obstruct somebody's views directly behind you (pro tip: get there early or go during a less busy time to ensure you can sit with nobody directly behind you or buy an extra ticket for the seat behind you if it's that's crowded but the crowds have died down a bit since opening night )

Don't turn your phone light on at the screen during Marjorie it's very distracting people can't see the show and Taylor can't see it so just keep the phones away except maybe to record a intro reaction or take a quick selfie or two with your token cup...

I just want you to remember that if you happen to be in a lame theater and some jerk tells atyou to "sit down" when you're in no way obstructing their view- that you can actually do pretty much whatever you want and there's not much anyone can do to stop that...

So have fun! It's kind of mandatory! Taylor did not go to all this effort to bring this amazing tour out on film so y'all can all sit quietly in silence and just watch with blank stares.... I'm sorry but she just didn't!!! For a lot of people this is the closest they'll get to this show and if they want to make it feel like they're there ,like it's real then for gods sake just let em ! It sickens me that having fun is seen as "not cool" by some people and it makes me even more sad that so many people forget

to never lose your sparkle ...

Regardless of coolness levels. Maybe I'm just old but every year that passes I give even less of a shit what people think of me then i did before and it's empowering! Fear and embarrassment don't run me. I run them ! It was magical watching my daughters eyes fill with joy and excitement counting down from 13 it was so emotional and I cried and relived every amazing moment ....

@taylorswift @taylornation

[hobiiiiiworld]

Hate Game | PJM + MYG - Chapter 9

⇢ No ill intentioned

Synopsis: 

Onus

/ˈəʊnəs/

noun something that is one's duty or responsibility.

__________

Jimin loses his brother. His father loses his first born son, the heir of his company, leaving it up to Jimin to keep his father´s company in the Park family. Jimin would never have pictured himself marrying out of duty. However, Mr. Min, who only married Jimin so he could take over the company, isn´t exactly how Jimin pictured. Now, all he wants is to make Yoongi regret his decision to marry for money.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Min Yoongi | Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

Genres: Marriage out of duty | Angst | Emotional Hurt

Word Count: 2,7K

Read on Ao3

Jimin wakes in the middle of night. Or, he isn´t sure if it's in the middle of night. He was sleeping, but now he isn´t, the vibrations from his phone slowly draws him from his sleep. He looks, the number not saved. He pushes the volume button, silencing the call, and goes back to sleep. Before he can fall back asleep, it rings again. It's the same number, and a surge of panic enters him as he sits up in bed, answering the call. Not again, he chants in his head. Please no, no, no, no. 

"Park Jimin speaking," he says, voice clear despite him just haven woken up. 

It's a woman speaking, and he isn´t sure what she said her name was or which hospital she said she's calling from, because his head is spinning. No. Please don't be dad. Don't be dad. Not yet. He repeats the words in his mind like mantra. Like he needs to think it to survive. He can't lose his dad too. Not yet. Not ever, but certainly not so quickly after Ji. He certainly wouldn't be able to survive that. The woman goes on. "I'm calling about a Park Yoongi? He said you're his husband?" 

Relief floods his body instantly. They aren't calling about his dad. His dad is fine, it's only Yoongi. His husband. Jimin wants to deny that Yoongi is his husband, but knows he shouldn't. Emotionally, Yoongi is nothing more than… Well, nothing to Jimin. Legally, however, Yoongi is his husband. "Yes," Jimin says, mustering up the energy to pretend to care now that the urgency of the situation is over. Now that he feels the relief crushing over him. 

He's been here before, but that time it was Ji. Jimin can feel the effects of this callback on his body and, even though the relief, he is shaking and his thoughts won't clear up. He reminds himself that this isn´t Ji, but Yoongi, which doesn't matters as much in comparison. At all, actually. A though occurs to Jimin: Yoongi´s real boyfriend should be the one they contacted, not the guy he married for money. Why didn't Yoongi give them his number? "Did something happen?" He asks, trying his best to sound interested. 

"Ah, your husband is fine. He fainted and hit his head, which is why we want to keep him for observation over night. If you want to come see him, we will allow you to come now." 

Jimin doesn't feel the need to go, knowing Yoongi would probably prefer for his tattoo-boyfriend to come instead. And chances are, he already called him. Chances are, tattoo-boyfriend, who he now has learned is named Jungkook, is already on his way to Yoongi. The last thing Jimin wants is to be embarrassed when he enters the hospital room with a nurse, finding his husband cuddled up with someone else. 

"It's not a great time right now. I don't know if I can, eh, find the time. But, huh," Jimin clears his throat, "tell him to text me if he needs something from our apartment and I'll bring it with me tomorrow." 

"Of course." She pauses, giving Jimin time to ask any questions he might have. "Have a good rest of your night, Jimin." 

"You too. And," Jimin says, forcing himself to say the next words. To pretend to be the husband he could be if... "Take care of my husband." 

"Of course we will!" 

They hang up. 

For the rest of the night, Jimin can't seem to fall back to sleep, thinking back to that awful Saturday morning when his dad called him. When he walked into the hospital too late. The feelings he felt that morning have returned, and Jimin wonders what happened to him that morning, because he can't seem to shake the feeling of being tired and angry and sad all the time. Although these feelings aren´t the exact same as they were three months ago, they are still present, always just there. Only now, they can't seem to surface. Jimin thinks it was better when he could have an outburst and get some of it out, but lately, he doesn't have the energy to cry or to argue or to do anything, these feelings are always just… there, simmering in the background. Building and poisoning everything.

He can't remember the last time he slept properly, because every time he falls asleep, Ji is there, haunting him. Some nights they are good dreams, some nights they are nightmares, but he always wakes up mourning after the dream. He wonders if he should go to therapy, but then again, he isn´t actually feeling all that much anymore, which means there aren't actually any feelings to deal with. Whatever, he doesn't know, and he doesn't care. Nothing matters, and nothing has mattered since that Saturday. Laying in bed, he can't sleep, but it doesn't matter because Ji isn´t here. Hoseok isn´t here. And he wonders if the old Jimin is gone for good, too. 

Jimin has figured it out. He has these moments where everything seems so good to him, where things are bright and light and normal, which occurs most often when he's with Taehyung or at work. And then, he has these moments where he's on autopilot, like when he married Yoongi. That whole month was him managing and trying to get though it. And then, he has moments where he feels and thinks, like last night. These are the times when things are heavy and he feels hopeless about the world and himself and his life. The realization that these waves happens has given him a little perspective. Things matters, he knows that, but not all the time. Not when he feels every bit of pain after Ji´s passing pulsating thought him. Things doesn't need to matter at that moment. 

Right now, he thinks he's on autopilot because he's entering the same door he did that Saturday, but he can´t be sure he's on autopilot, because he feels anxious and angry and sad. Anxious because he's walking though hallways that look the exact same as they did that morning. And he's sad because he's asking for the same last name he did that day. And he's mad, because this time, it isn´t Ji, it's Yoongi. And Yoongi is fine. Yoongi isn´t dead like Jimin´s brother, but he's just fine. And it's unfair. 

Walking up to the door, he hears familiar voices. He doesn't know why he stops, but he finds himself listening in instead of walking though the door.

"- for you, you know? It's coming up two years," tattoo-boyfriend says. Jimin knows it's him because he can't count how many times he's heard his voice though the door. 

"Yeah," Yoongi says, sounding tired. 

"How-" Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Yoongi. 

"Don´t," he bites back.

"Yoon -" 

Once again, Yoongi interrupts him, which is the first time Jimin has heard him being harsh toward Jungkook. "I'm fine, so we don't have to do this." 

"Yoongi, you're laying in a hospital bed," tattoo-boyfriend argues back. 

"Well, my life doesn't stop because he isn´t here anymore or because I miss him." Jimin remembers when Yoongi said those words to him. He had taken offense then, thinking Yoongi meant it as a clap-back or as an insult. Turns out, Yoongi goes by those words himself. He actually believes them. "It has to go on."

"You have to take care of yourself, though, and not only other people. I know you want to -" 

Jungkook can't seem to finish a sentence without Yoongi interrupting him. "Listen, I remember how things were in those early months. He's trying to survive. I'm trying to do the same, but I've started to heal. I can't let Jim -" 

This time, Jungkook is the one interrupting, sounding mad. "Oh fuck off! You can't take care of anyone if you can't take care of yourself." His voice softens. "If you're not alive. Remember what he said before he passed. He didn't want you to do this to yourself. And I know you only want to help that poor guy, but he clearly doesn't want your help, the way he's treating you. I think…" he hesitates then. 

"What? I should rip the contract in two and kick him out?" 

"Yeah. Basically." 

"You can't be for real?" 

"Think about it. You're working your ass off, working to the brink of exhaustion, then you come home, only to be met with hostility. It's not good for your mental health, and clearly not for your physical health, either." 

"He isn´t that bad. I was worse," Yoongi says, clearly joking now. 

"Yeah, but not to strangers. To me. To your dad. To him. But never to people who didn't deserve it, you know?" 

"I deserve it, plenty." 

"This wasn't my point," Jungkook says, clearly exasperated. "My point is, you should still give yourself some space and time to heal. To grief. Actually, you should get yourself out of this situation. They can find a new asslicker like yourself to run the company, and you can find yourself a new ass to lick." 

Yoongi erupts in laughter, clearly enjoying Jungkoook´s humor.

Jimin doesn't know when he understood they are talking about him, but once the realization hits, he turns around and is about to walk away when he walks straight into a nurse. 

"Sorry," the nurse says loudly, drawing attention as he straightens up Jimin before he walks away. And Jimin doesn't have a choice but to turn around, because Jungkook is standing in the doorway, smiling politely at Jimin with his eyes wide and curious. Without a word, Jimin hands him the food Yoongi asked him to bring and walks out of the hospital as quickly as he can. 

Jimin spends the rest of his Saturday not thinking about the conversation he overheard. He cleans the apartment, he eats lunch with Taehyung - Jimin has to kick him out when he doesn't stop asking Jimin what is wrong - and he visits Ji´s grave, laying down flowers and the new angel he bought at the fair. Once dark settles, he makes himself dinner, lights some candles and puts on a movie. Halfway through the movie, Yoongi messages him. 

Warning. On my way home. 

Jimin sighs, ignores the message and hyper focuses on the movie, because that's much more enjoyable that thinking about that conversation and what it might mean. To Jimin, it doesn't mean anything, because Yoongi has still been a total ass to him. Still been rude and not cared about his feelings. He said it himself, he deserves everything he's gotten from Jimin. Even if he defended him and even if some of his ill words to Jimin might have been intended as kind advice, he definitely deserves all the anger. 

Yeah, Jimin is not thinking about it and he definitely still hates Yoongi. 

He hears the door opening. He hears Yoongi walking in. He hears the front door closing and Yoongi kicking off his shoes. Yoongi walking into his bedroom without hesitation, closing his door after him. And Jimin wants to call after him that he shouldn't close the door by slamming it shut, but puts his focus back on the move. Five minutes later Yoongi reappears in sweats, and much to Jimin´s surprise, he picks up the blanket, settles himself next to Jimin and cuddles up. 

They watch the movie with a weird tension in the air. Jimin wonders what the conversation was about. He wonders if Yoongi knows he heard. He wonders if Yoongi knows that he knows that he heard. And in the middle of all this wondering, he's still so unreliably angry at Yoongi for settling himself beside Jimin, ruining his peace. For coming into his life the way he did. The movies ends, yet none of them move, an indescribable bubble of something unsaid surrounding them. Jimin wants to ask, but he's too mad. He wants Yoongi to ask, but Jimin knows he wouldn't answer, he's too mad. The next movie in the series starts to play, and Yoongi settles even further down on the couch, clearly calm and relaxed. 

Jimin doesn't dare look at Yoongi, only watches the movie unfold on the screen. Tries to get the same peace Yoongi is currently feeling, but there is no chance. He huffs, and he puffs, but this time, Yoongi keeps quiet. Let's him get it all out. Or, he's too focused on the movie to even notice. Who knows. Probably the latter, knowing Yoongi. 

It's somewhere in the middle of the movie when Yoongi clears his throat. 

"Thanks for coming to visit me, and thanks for bringing food." Jimin wants to bark back that he didn't need Jimin to bring him food, wants to point out that he could have asked Jungkook, but bites his tongue. "And… I tried to stop them from calling you in the middle of the night. They…" he doesn't finish. 

Jimin turns to Yoongi then, sitting up on his knees. Yoongi is staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened, and Jimin curses him in his mind. Why did you survive, huh? Why you and not him? 

"Yeah, you tried? Was it hard telling them that you married a man you don't know or care about for money. Was it hard telling them that said husband doesn't care if you're in the hospital? Was it hard telling them that I'm not the one they should be calling, but Jungkook, your boyfriend. Was it hard, huh?" 

"I -" Yoongi cuts himself off, looking stunned. "You-" 

"I- You-" Jimin mocks. "Huh," he snickers. 

"Firstly, Jungkook is not my boyfriend. Secondly, yes, I tried. It all happened so fast, one second they're asking who I'm married to, because it's very obvious that I'm married," he holds up his hand with his wedding band on. "And then I tried to tell them that I should call you myself, but they insisted that I rest." There is a second where Jimin sits back down and Yoongi sits up straight. "I hope you didn't react too badly when they called." 

"As I said, I don't care that you were at the hospital," Jimin bites back, rolling his eyes. 

"No, not me… The…" Yoongi closes his eyes in frustration, and when he opens them again, he is calm again. He looks at Jimin with kind eyes, eyes that Jimin has never seen before. "When they called… It was in the middle of the night and the hospital called. I tried telling them I should be the one calling you, Jimin, I did. They wouldn't listen." 

"You… You did?" Jimin asks incredibly. Because he did react badly, all those feelings and thoughts from that morning came right back to him. He was in panic when he picked up. Yet, he finds it hard to grasp what Yoongi is really saying. 

"What? You can't honestly think I'm so horrible that I want to trigger your trauma." Jimin doesn't answer, because yes, he does. Or he did? He doesn't know. "You do, don't you?" 

"You are horrible, so why wouldn't you do that? You have no regards for my emotions, and you just do whatever the fuck you want." 

"Are you serious right now?" Yoongi asks, voice cold. 

"Kick me out like you boyfriend suggested th-" 

Yoongi interrupts Jimin, voice loud. "He's not my fucking boyfriend!" Like Yoongi always does, he calms and speaks again. It's starting to get on Jimin´s nerves, because he can't seem to calm down, and he can´t think straight like this. "And yeah, maybe I should kick you out but I won't.  I'm going to be here so you have at least on way you can get your anger out."  Jimin doesn't answer, only fumes. Falters a little, because now he's confused. Really confused, but so, so, so angry. "What you're going thought has nothing to do with me, and -" 

"It has everything to do with you!" 

"Right," Yoongi says slowly, trying to prepare himself for Jimin´s next move. 

"You fucking survived, and he fucking died. It has everything to with you." Jimin stands up and walks away. 

"Take it out on me all you want, Jimin," Yoongi calls after him, calmer that Jimin has ever been. "It will get better, and then I'll still be here!" Jimin slams his door shut, the tears of frustration already falling. 

Yes, he definitely… or he thinks… no, maybe he doesn't hate Yoongi as much anymore. Something in Jimin rises, because he knows admitting he was wrong is even worse than continuing to hate Yoongi, so yes, he still hates Yoongi.