#gonna have to bring out a height chart thing at Some Point i guess

[clippy]

ummmm here's my newest OCs hanging out (Mr. Mike is probably like...... 5' idk. train crossing dude is Tall)

[moemammon]

could i please request the obey me ! boyfies with an s/o who is like & chubby ? they get insecure about it (like being tall + chubby) and really are body-insecure to the point it’s like super frustrating too bc they want to express themselves through their outfits but absolutely hate clothes shopping and will break down bc of the amount of people, the clothing sizes, and being upset after trying things on... thank you so much!!

The Demon Bros react to a Body-Insecure GN!MC

(Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. This is something we hear all the time to the point that it almost feels dry and cliche. But! Just know that there's NOTHING wrong with the way you look, despite all the media we see centered around the world's idea of beauty. Beauty is subjective, and not eternal. Just be you. The best 'you' you can be!)

Lucifer

Do you REALLY think an age old demon would see anything wrong with what you look like? He's constantly surrounded by beauty, anyway, in the form of demons and angels alike

Besides, Luci isn't shallow enough to base his affections for you purely on how you look, so you don't even have to question that.

But he does recognize that you don't see yourself in the same like as he does, and he's so, so patient with you. After all, he can't have the love of his life doubting their self worth. The Avatar of Pride won't be having that.

Lucifer takes the time to tell you, everyday, what you mean to him. In the quiet moments when you two are alone, he'll guide your gaze to meet his own, and starts going down the list of the things that make you beautiful.

"To think you'd be self conscious about something like this.... Do you think I'd settle for anything less than perfection? Let me remind you again why I love every inch of you, MC."

Mammon

Taking up modeling gigs means Mammon's seen just about every body type under the sun, so do you seriously think he's that worried about the way you look?

He's a little slow to read the room, so it takes him a while to realize that you're self conscious. But when he tries taking you clothes shopping one day, and sees you're on the verge of tears after trying on two outfits, he gets the clue.

NOW he's being extra as hell in showing you how much he likes you. You start waking up to texts telling you how beautiful you are (with the obligatory threat that you'd better not show his brothers), he keeps putting his arm around you in public, and when he can muster up the courage, he'll even tell you in person how good you look in the outfit you're wearing.

He even starts sending you links to websites he visits to buy clothes. There's some good ones that have a wide range of customization options, and a pretty diverse size chart! It's not so bad if it's online, right?

"Anyone who's worthy of being around THE Great Mammon is worth a million grimm, understand? I don't really get all the fuss about yer body, but... I think ya look fine the way ya are. So smile a little more, alright?"

Levi

Levi can relate when it comes to body insecurities. He's a layabout, and the only exercise he gets is when he's forced to get it. He doesn't think he's much of a looker compared to his brothers, either.

So when you tell him how you feel about the way you look, he gathers up every ounce of otaku™️ strength to tell you that there's nothing wrong with your height, or weight.

He DEFINITELY values personality over looks, and even then it's not like he finds you unattractive. Seriously, he doesn't get your worries at all. Are you sure you can see properly..? They say staring at screens too long can mess up your eyesight, so maybe he should stop forcing you to watch so much tv with him?

And guess what? Levi can sew. Go ahead and bring him the clothes you wanna wear, and he'll get em fixed up for you! Or if you want something custom made, he's got you! Leave it to the master weeb and his endless cosplay knowledge! ✨

"L-Like in anime! It's boring to see the same body types all the time and it's nice when they change it up, s-so....Uh.... Anyway, I like everything about you, okay?! Your body is fine the way it is!"

Satan

According to his nerd calculations, you have no reason to be insecure.

Jokes aside, Satan listens to your concerns and handles them gently. No two people look alike and the world is full of different body types, so who's to decide what is and isn't beautiful?

As he sees it, you're healthy and happy, and isn't that all that matters? He can't take away your anxieties about shopping, but he CAN help you find things you would like to try out. He's pretty sure he has a book that teaches a spell for altering clothes in an instant....

Satan tends to think on the logical side of things, so you can trust that he isn't just saying nice things to spare your feelings. He means every word when he tells you how perfect you are in his eyes.

"Of the billions of people on earth, do you really think anyone can say what 'beauty' is? MC, you're perfect the way you are. Should I write a book about all the wonderful things I love about you?"

Asmo

If there's anyone who can appreciate all body types, it's Asmo. What can you expect from the Avatar of Lust, who's seen all there is to see? If anything, there's more for him to love~!

And his affection for your body isn't even entirely sexual. It's all about aesthetics! He loves every dip and curve of yours, from head to toe!

He knows you find it difficult to find clothes that suit you, so he's started having your clothes tailored. You're a little confused when he randomly starts taking your measurements one day-

Later, he returns to you with all those outfits you kept staring at a little too long, all tailored to your body type. Asmo has CONNECTIONS, baby. He's gonna make sure you find everything you could possibly want. He knows how crucial it is to express yourself through what you wear!

"Didn't I tell you you'd look great in that? I'm never wrong when it comes to fashion! And MC darling, you look as stunning as always! Ooh, I just love the way this accentuates your body~!"

Beel

Beel only has food on the brain, so he's the least likely to care for appearances. He loves you for your heart, because that's what matters the most to him. And when you're happy, he's happy!

He loves the look on your face when you smile at yourself in the mirror, and he wants to see that more often. So when you express your insecurities about your body, Beel has a plan of action in mind.

He hoists you up and settles you onto his bed, first grabbing your thighs, your hips, your torso, your arms, and ends all the touching by cupping your cheeks. His hands are warm with affection, and you could already feel yourself melting into his touch.

He looks you in the eye with that deadpan expression of his, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and a potato chip to your lips.

"No matter how you look or what you wear, you're still the same MC that I love. Every part of you is just fine, so why do you worry so much about it? I'll remind you over and over if I have to."

Belphie

Um??? That means he has more to hold?? when you guys cuddle?? You're warm, you smell nice, and he loves you. Literally where is the downside to any of that???

Belphie takes your worries with a grain of salt, but he knows how insecure you are so he doesn't brush them off. He DOES however tell you that you're worrying yourself to death.

Also, do you really think a man that sleeps all the time is going to have washboard abs? Belphie definitely has a little chub here and there under those baggy ass clothes of his.

Speaking of clothes, he thinks you should just wear whatever makes you comfortable. You're wearing those clothes for yourself, aren't you? So just wear what you like.

"There you go again, talking badly about yourself. Geez.... I guess I'll just have to hold you in my arms until you realize how silly you're being. Come here."

[fruitcoops]

Have you ever seen where they get kids to ask the players tough questions and there all dress up and have fake beards and stuff. Maybe you could do that with Jules and Katie asking the team all these really hard questions?????

Thank you for giving me an excuse to spend an hour and a half watching adorable kids ask questions and melt the hearts of celebrities. You’re my hero. There are no fake beards here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sweater Weather characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove!

“These chairs are so small,” James said as he scooted closer to the table. He nearly knocked Talker over with his elbow as the four of them squeezed in; the two kids on the other side shared a look.

“Ready, everyone?” Dorcas asked. When she received six thumbs up, she turned to the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello, Lions fans, and welcome to Lion Pride! We have a couple of very special guests today to do the introductions.”

“Hello! I’m Katie and I’m six!” She held up six fingers and all four hockey players melted a little bit.

“I’m Julian, and I’m ten.” He waved, a little shy.

Dorcas smiled. “And how are you two related to our favorite Lions?”

Katie lit up and pointed behind the camera. “That’s my dad!”

There was a chuckle in the background. “Can you tell them my name, mon chou?”

“Pascal Dumais, but everyone calls you Dumo.” She swung her legs and her tulle skirt fluffed out.

“Remus Lupin is my older brother,” Jules said with a grin. “But Finn thought he was my dad.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Finn protested around a laugh. “Cut me some slack, Little Loops!”

“Do you want to do the intros for the guys, too?” Dorcas asked. Katie tugged on Jules’ sleeve.

“Can I go first?” she whispered. When he nodded, she hopped out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table, tapping each player on the shoulder. “This is Pots, Talker, Harzy, and Sirius.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get to do any of them,” Jules pouted.

“You can ask the first question,” Dorcas said, hiding her smile behind her clipboard. “A quick reminder for our Lions: if you refuse to answer any of these, it means you hate children. Take it away, Jules!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked across the table with a solemn expression. “How many sticks have each of you broken?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” James mused. “A lot, but not always on purpose.”

“I haven’t broken that many,” Talker said. “I’ve forgotten to return quite a few to the rink after games, though. I think I have about five in my trunk that I keep meaning to put back.”

“Maybe…ten? Fifteen?” Finn rested his chin on his hand. “I should start a tally board.”

“Too many,” Sirius laughed. “I need to be more careful.”

Katie wiggled in her seat as she picked up the question card. “Why do you swear so much?”

Matching expressions of shock painted all four players’ faces. “Have we sworn in front of you?” Finn asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“Mon dieu, I’m the worst person on earth,” Sirius murmured as Talker leaned his forehead on the table.

James opened and closed his mouth a couple times before answering. “Uh. Well. I don’t know, Katie. Instead of answering, I’m going to take this time to personally apologize to you and your dad, who is laughing his a—his rear end off in the back, as well as promising to form better habits.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be?” Jules asked, seemingly unfazed by the previous question. Wordlessly, Sirius gestured to his Captain America t-shirt.

“Spiderman,” Finn said without hesitation. “He’s the coolest.”

James unzipped his jacket to reveal a Superman shirt. “We didn’t coordinate this,” he said, tilting his head toward Sirius. “But yeah, Superman’s the best.”

Talker thought for a moment. “I really like Hawkeye. Are we talking Marvel or DC here?”

“Anything.”

“Anything? Hmm. I’m going to go with the Flash, then.”

“Nice.” Jules reached over to give him a high-five.

“I got Jules’ approval, everyone else can go home.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” Katie asked, still swinging her legs.

The table went silent. Sirius turned to Dorcas. “Is this the plan? Get us rolling with fun stuff and then give the hard ones to the five-year-old in a princess dress?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Cool. Well, munchkin, I don’t like bugs and I’m not a huge fan of the dark.”

“Vegetables,” Finn said sagely, which sent both kids into a fit of giggles and made all the adults break into sunny smiles. “God, you guys are cute.”

“Pomeranians freak me out,” Talker answered once they had calmed down a bit. “They have those tiny little eyes and sharp teeth.”

James shrugged. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

“I thought you wanted to be Superman?” Jules frowned. “He flies all the time.”

“I think I’d be less afraid of heights if I knew I could fly.”

“So you’re afraid of falling, not heights.”

James looked to the camera. “And now I’m getting psychoanalyzed by a ten-year-old. Uh, yeah buddy, I guess so.”

“Hmm.” Jules looked back to the question card. “Who would win in a fight, you or our moms?”

“Your moms,” Talker said immediately as the others nodded. “No contest.”

“How would we even get in that situation?” Sirius asked. “What the did we do to make the nicest women in the world that mad?”

“Stole brownies,” Katie said with great gravity for one so young. “Mom says you four are the worst about it.”

“Mom wouldn’t even have to fight you.” Jules cocked his head to the side. “I feel like she could just give you a disappointed look and that would be enough. Katie, your turn.”

“Yay!” She brightened again. “What is your favorite cereal?”

Sirius smiled. “Fruit Loops.”

“Cheerios,” Talker said. “They’re good for you physically and emotionally.”

“I’m with Talkie on this one,” James agreed.

Finn gave them all disappointed looks. “You’re so old. Mine’s Lucky Charms.”

“Okay, Leprechaun Boy,” James snorted. Finn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Do you ever play hockey at home?” Jules asked. “I feel like Sirius doesn’t have to answer this one since it’s so obvious.”

Finn laughed. “Does tapping a puck around on the carpet with brooms counts?”

“Yeah, that counts.”

“Then yeah, sometimes.”

“I have no space in my apartment to play hockey,” Talker said. “Though I plan on moving someday and then the answer will be yes.”

“I made a rink in my backyard.” James smiled slightly. “Lily likes to skate sometimes while I run drills.”

“My turn, my turn!” Katie scooted her chair closer. “Okay. Out of everyone on the team, what two people would you take with you on a dessert island?”

“Desert,” Jules corrected quietly.

“Desert island. Are there deserts on islands?”

“I think they mean like super sandy beaches with no people on them.”

“Oooooohhh.”

James mouthed a thank you to Dorcas, who gave him a thumbs-up in return. The other three looked at the kids with unbearable softness. “Well, I’d feel awful if I took your dad with me, so I think I’m going to go with Finn and maybe Kasey. We’d have a blast.”

“Nice, dude.” Finn fist-bumped him. “Unfortunately for you, my choices are going to be Leo and Logan, since I already know we could live together without starting a war on the third day.”

Sirius thought for a second. “I think Nado would actually be able to survive on a desert island, so I’ll bring him along, and for the second one…maybe Kasey? Yeah, Kasey’s cool.”

In the ensuing silence, Jules gave him a significant look. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re not on the t—” The realization hit him like a truck; his eyes went wide and he slumped in his seat as the others burst out laughing. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”

“Your own fiancé.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

“He’s gonna laugh so hard,” Jules cackled, leaning back in his chair. Even the camera crew was losing it in the background. Dorcas had to step out of frame. “You’re never going to live it down.”

“Well, the first person I would bring with me is Remus Lupin, because he’s read a lot of books and definitely knows how to survive on a desert island,” Talker said around his snickering. “And then I’d bring Cap, because God knows that would get entertaining after Loops finds out about this. The sarcasm would be off the charts.”

“Okay, next question.” Dorcas came back into view, still grinning. “Jules, go for it.”

“Can I ask Katie’s question again so Sirius can give a better answer?” he asked gleefully. Dorcas hesitated, then shook her head. “Bummer. What was cool when you were young that isn’t cool now?”

“When?” Finn looked scandalized. “I’m 24!”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ugh. Um, maybe Furbies? People were really into Furbies when I was in high school, though I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go out of style.”

James bit his lip in thought. “Tamagotchis.”

“I loved those things!” Talker said excitedly. “My sisters and I used to go nuts with those things!”

Sirius smiled. “Lite Brites.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “I forgot about those!”

“Regulus and I each had one and we loved them. That was the only thing we agreed on and we used to sit—” He paused for a second to laugh. “—we used to sit in the middle of the ice rink in the backyard, still in our skates and everything, and do Lite Brites for literal hours.”

“That’s so cute, oh my god.” Talker shook his head. “What a nostalgia trip.”

Katie knelt on her seat and rested her arms on the table. “Who skates faster, you or me?”

“You,” all four answered in unison.

Jules rolled his eyes, but he was clearly hiding a smile. “How many push ups can you do?”

“How many can you do?” James countered. A flash of competition lit on Jules’ face and all the guys grinned. “Uh-oh, there’s the Lupin glare.”

“How about we have a little competition?” Dorcas suggested. “See how many everyone can do in thirty seconds?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said. The four of them had a little bit of trouble getting their knees out from under the kid-sized table, but eventually they succeeded and gathered in the middle of the room. “Katie, are you joining us?”

She smiled innocently. “No, I know I’d win.”

“Get ready.” Dorcas pulled her phone out as they knelt. “On your marks, get set, go!”

The guys went easy on Jules from the outset, but they made it look like those pushups were the hardest exercise they had ever done in their lives. Talker took a second to dramatically wipe his forehead and James’ wheezing was almost comical; Jules, however, was giving it his best shot. When the timer finally went off, Finn collapsed with a groan. “I forfeit.”

“Did I win?” Jules panted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You did, congratulations!” Dorcas put her timer away and winked at the camera as they headed back to the table. “Great job, everyone. Katie, your turn.”

“Do you live in a mansion?”

“I live in an apartment,” Finn said.

“Same.”

Sirius shook his head. “My house might be big, but it’s not a mansion.”

“Does a two-story house count as a mansion?” James asked. “No? Then no, I don’t.”

“Who is your least favorite person on the team and why?” Jules turned to Sirius with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to have another desert island problem?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, speechless, as the other three cracked up. “Jules, can I adopt you?” James begged around his laughter. “Please?”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that, I think.”

“My least favorite person on the team is James Potter,” Sirius sighed. “Not the person I’m getting married to.”

“We could get married. Lily might mind, though.”

“Full offense, but I know way too much about you to ever consider that.”

James ruffled his hair and turned back to the kids. “My least favorite person on the team is Remus Lupin, because he ran me over in practice the other day.”

Finn side-eyed him. “Didn’t you trip him after he stole the puck from you?”

“He ran me over.”

“Sure, Pots. Um, my least favorite is Kasey Winter. He threw ice at me while we were in the ice baths.”

“Logan took my Gatorade last week and hid it all over the rink,” Talker said. “I’ll never forgive him for such a crime.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Katie exclaimed as she looked at her card. “What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?”

“My tenth birthday was at Red Robin and I got a Power Ranger outfit.” Talker grinned. “I was the coolest kid on the block.”

“My eighteenth birthday was pretty fun,” Finn said. “There was a bouncy house and Alex almost broke it because we were jumping too hard.”

“Does it have to be my birthday?” James asked. “Because my son’s first birthday party was awesome.”

“Why?”

“He threw cake in Sirius’ face and a food fight broke out in the backyard.”

“That was a pretty great day,” Sirius agreed. “My last birthday party was my favorite.”

“You spent the night with us!” Katie said happily.

“I did, yeah,” he laughed. “And I had a really good time.”

Jules perked up when he read the next question. “I love this one! Do you have a lucky pair of underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Of course I do.”

“Is there a superstition I don’t have?”

Jules looked especially pleased with those answers as Katie picked up her card. “This is the last one,” she warned. “And it’s super important and super hard. What kind of dog would you be and why? You can take your time, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Katie, we’ll need it,” Talker said as he desperately tried to contain his smile. “I’ll go first, if nobody minds. I would be a border collie because one, I love them; two, they have a lot of energy; and three, they love making friends.”

“That’s a good one,” she said seriously. “They’re also very soft.”

“Yes, they are.”

Once Finn managed to suppress his quiet laughter, he raised his hand. “Can I go next?” Katie nodded. “I’d be an Irish setter. They have red hair and they’re really affectionate. Plus, I met one the other day at the park and haven’t stopped thinking about him.”

“This was a tough question, Katie, but I think I’m going to go with a golden retriever,” James said after a moment. “They’re good family dogs and they like to be on the ice with those big ol’ paws.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” She beamed at him. “Sirius, you don’t have to go. I already know what you’d be.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking highly amused. “Do you now? Can everyone else know, too?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said. “You’d be Hattie. She looks just like you and she gives the best hugs.”

A small puff of air left Sirius’ lungs and he blinked as James reached over and patted his shoulder. “Oh. Okay.”

“That wraps us up,” Dorcas said, looking between them with a soft smile. “Any closing statements from our guest stars?”

“Ready?” Jules muttered to Katie, who nodded rapidly. “On three. One, two, three!”

“Go Lions!” they shouted in unison with matching grins. The camera crew cheered and the players applauded, all laughing.

“Thank you for tuning in, everyone! Remember to like and subscribe for more content.”

[lovehugsandcandy]

kiss me heavy heavy ('cuz you know we ain’t done yet) (Colt x MC, RoD) 

A/N: Title (and more herein) is a riff from Here with Me by Elina. For Choices September Challenge, Day 27 (barely made it whew), and the prompt was Family.

Pairing: Colt x MC, references to past Logan x MC

Rating: R (swearing, injuries, suggestiveness, drinking in excess and being furiously hungover)

Length: ~13,000 words (way way way too long and I apologize)

Summary: Ellie and Colt’s family breaks apart; Ellie and Colt’s family comes together.

When Colt broke his arm, he was 7. He had figured out how to work the lift in the shop. He had figured out when everyone went to lunch. And he had figured out how to fly, how to leap from heights and love the weightlessness in his stomach as his legs kicked out into thin air. But he had not yet figured out how to climb a hydraulic lift. When he fell, instead of the graceful landing he was expecting, he slammed into the harsh concrete, nowhere near as forgiving as the clear water of the Pacific. He shattered his ulna but, even worse, it was the start of the arguments between his parents about his trips to the cliff with his dad. Those trips became less frequent, the screaming fights became more, and then they moved, far from the shop and the cliff and the concrete floor that earned him his first cast.

When Ellie broke her arm, she was 12. She was scared; she had never been in a car accident before and the shattering of glass and sudden sharp pain made her cry, heaping sobs that her mom wiped from her face with careful hands while the paramedics poked and prodded. She was even more scared after, when the trip to the hospital revealed something was seriously wrong with her mother, and terrified for the following year, until it was only her and her dad and his fear of the entire world.

When their daughter broke her arm, she had just turned 5 and it was the end of the end and the beginning of the beginning.

~~~~~

"Please, Logan. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. "

She heard his heavy sigh over the phone. "I can move things around. I'll be there. But Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

Logan's cautious tone interrupted her internal fist bump. "Why is this so important?"

"Because...because Colt asked if he could bring someone."

"Ellie..."

"I just..." She dropped her eyes, darting through the crowd, phone pressed to her ear so hard she thought she was getting a headache. But maybe it was this whole situation making her jaw tense and temples throb. "I just....I don’t want to go alone while he’s there with a new girlfriend."

"There is no way in hell Colt has a girlfriend."

"He asked if we needed tickets for a freaking dance recital." She thought back to the awkward conversation, stilted and strange, when she was distracted in her kitchen and he was miles across town, always too far. 

“I thought we actually did need tickets?”

“Not because it’s gonna sell out!” Ellie had to stop talking with her hands, her flailing accidentally hitting the person next to her. She mouthed an apology to the dour woman to her left and walked faster. “Because it’s a money-making racket where they want you to pay for a ticket and the photos and a freaking video of the thing.”

“This is sounding less appealing by the second.”

"Logan, please? He said he wanted to bring someone and I don’t think I can-” She bit her lip, thinking. It had taken them an excruciatingly long two years to get to this point. After the furious phone call and months of silence, it had taken Colt almost a year to thaw, to actually interact with her beyond the scheduling and logistical communication required in co-parenting their daughter, and then months after that to actually stop speaking in clipped words and bitter tones. Slowly, so slowly, they made their way back to something that flowed and worked but, sometimes, when the three of them grabbed dinner or when she caught his eye at a school event, sometimes she thought they were edging their way to something more, to something old, to something that felt like the last two years had been a nightmare that Ellie was ready to wake up from. His new girlfriend definitely proved that those hopes were all in Ellie’s imagination. “I don’t think I can do it alone."

"Maybe it's his mom."

"She’s still at that conference in Miami." So what if she cut Colt off before he could even explain? She couldn't reasonably expect to sit there while Colt was asking if his new girl could attend their daughter's dance recital. Urgh. That asshole. “Oh my God. Do you think he’s gonna bring her to Kira’s birthday party too?” 

“Ellie, he has the personality of a sociopath and the social ability of a troll. He's single.”

Ellie had to smile. Logan had always been in her corner. While Ximena, Toby, and Mona had their loyalties tested in the breakup, Logan had always had her back. He was her rock and, for a while, they tried to be more, when Colt was gone and Ellie was miserable and terrified and needed someone, but it had never quite worked out. Thankfully, they had managed to to remain thick as the thieves they used to be. "He’s also the father of my child, Logan.”

"And I'm so glad she takes after you."

"Ha ha.” Kira definitely took after her in a lot of ways; like Ellie, she worked hard and had an innate kindness about her that made care for her classmates and call her grandfather every night. But she also had a stubborn streak, an insistence on getting her way that was reminiscent of Colt, along with the smart mouth and an innate confidence that could only be from her father. She even looked like Colt, all thick black hair and deep brown eyes and constantly smirking lips. “Ok, Logan, I'm back at work."

"Alright, fine, see you Saturday?"

"Of course. And thank you, Logan."

Ellie hung up the phone and strode through the lobby, flashing her badge and giving a wave to the receptionist before taking the elevator to her desk and slinking into her seat. She had a major presentation next week, in front of the CEO of the entire company, and she was panicking. As she logged into her computer, she knew she had no time to worry about her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend and her broken family and a dance recital that she was decidedly not looking forward to; she had work to do.

~~~~~

Before (before, in the very beginning, when things were amazing...)

Ellie rubbed her growing stomach with one hand and bit at the fingernails of her other hand, considering. It wasn't that Ellie was worried, per se; Colt loved her with a single minded devotion that took her breath away, an intensity that made her weak in the best of moments and absolutely destroyed in the worst.

It's just that he wouldn't put down his phone, eyes on the screen at every spare moment. She didn't think he was cheating on her; with the crew and the shop, he lacked the free time needed for an illicit affair. But she just didn't know what else it could be.

And when she asked what he was doing, he would slide his phone away, almost bashful, revealing nothing. It piqued her curiosity and she couldn't, wouldn't leave it alone.

This time, when he threw his phone on the bed and left the room to take a shower, this time, she resolved to find out. She waited until she heard the water running and then reached for it, getting through the lock screen immediately. (Eight numeric digits? Easy. She only needed one guess.)

She looked through the messages (unsurprisingly, mostly to her), the calls (again, mostly her, though the pizza place by the shop was a close second), and finally hit pay dirt when she opened the browser, multiple tabs calling for her attention.

The first looked like a textbook, long words and citations everywhere; it wasn’t until she saw the first image, a chart with weeks and produce arranged in a confusing display, that she realized what it was. A baby book? 

The second tab was similarly confusing. ‘Abigail, Amelia, Audrey...’ It, again, took her a minute to realize that it was a list baby names in alphabetical order. She blinked, barely hearing the water turn off.

Her mouth was open when he walked in the room. “Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this...” Her voice caught. “Are you reading a baby book on your phone?”

“Uhhh....yeah?” He ran a towel through his hair and shrugged. 

“And baby names?”

“Yeah?”

“I...” She blinked up at him, watching a water droplet slide down the side of his face. “I didn’t know that.”

"Well, I don’t have much experience with kids, you know. I don’t want to fuck it up."

She could feel tears starting to form, her happiness emerging as water from her eyes. Damn hormones. "Colt...." She pulled him to sit on the bed next to her. "You are gonna be a great dad. Really."

He just looked at her, taking in the weepy eyes and the pouting frown, and pulled her into a hug, grazing soft kisses across her brow. “I...I don’t wanna be my dad.”

“You won’t. Oh my God, Colt, you won’t.” She knew how worried he was about this, how the torn relationship with his father was never truly repaired before Kaneko’s fiery death. But she wasn’t worried, confident in every way that Colt would rise to the challenge, like he did in every other aspect of their life. She pulled him closer for a lingering kiss, trying to transmit some of her confidence through her lips; he deepened the kiss, hand falling to her waist to thumb the soft skin there, a moan catching in his throat.

He pulled back to curve careful fingers around her face. "I wish you had the baby already."

"Why?" She put her hand over her stomach, still insecure about the curve forming, unfamiliar and new and alien to her.

He slid his hands over hers, then up, further, teasing the soft skin underneath her breasts. "Cuz I'd give you another baby right now."

"Some if the stuff you say is not sexy." Still, she shivered and his hands slid higher.

"Then why are you taking my clothes off right now?" She looked down to where her hands were clutched in his t-shirt, moving of their own accord to get closer to the skin and muscle underneath.

She opened her mouth and closed it again. "You're damn lucky you're cute "

His eyes softened. "I'm just damn lucky."

~~~~~

Now (when things aren’t great but things are fine and things aren’t good but time flies on...)

The conversation with Logan was still fresh in her mind, even over a few days of life and logistics and thinking thinking thinking, when she slid into the chair with a sigh. “Riya, I am tired.” The large coffee cup in a death grip in her hand was proof of that. She had been busy, working as much as she could in order to make sure the most important meeting of her career would go off without a hitch. Thankfully, she and Colt had a fixed schedule, so she could work late some evenings while Colt had Kira and Ellie tried to put her fractured family in the back of her mind. “I have been working 24/7 and have to go to this stupid recital tomorrow where my stupid ex will bring his stupid new girlfriend and I just want a nap.”

Riya only laughed. “I can tell.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to vent as soon as I sat down. How are you?”

“I’m good!” Riya smoothed down her shirt and leaned forward conspiratorially. “But, you know, I would say that being so miffed about Colt’s date is a sign that-”

Ellie’s hand moved fast to whack Riya, a loving slap against her arm. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear it from you.”

“Ok, but I am just saying that, if you were as over him as you swore you were, you wouldn’t care if-”

“Riya!”

“Fine, fine, fine. In other news, I’m excited for the birthday party!”

“Urgh, I can’t believe it’s next weekend. You’re coming, right?”

“You know it. You wanted me to bring an appetizer?”

“That would be amazing.” Ellie sighed as the warm coffee hit her tongue, making its way down her throat. “You are a godsend, you know that?”

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to hear you say it.” Riya flashed a smile but it fell as she glanced behind Ellie.

“What? What is it?”

Riya’s eyes widened. “Ummm....speaking of your ex...”

Ellie sucked in a breath; she knew it was a possibility, knew it was a risk coming here since the garage was so close to Riya’s work, but it was her turn to make the trek across town. They hadn’t spoken since he asked about the recital, their only communication being quick text messages, all functional, logistical, formal. 

“And it looks like he’s here with someone,” Riya continued.

Ellie was unable to stop the chair from spinning, turning to catch a glimpse. It was Colt, leather jacket and all, looking uncomfortable, hands stuffed in his pockets. And he was here with someone, tiny brunette next to him talking up a storm as they waited in line.

“She looks like a freaking teenager.” Ellie spun back in her seat to drop her cup on the table.

Even Riya looked incredulous. “Is he on a date?” 

Ellie’s breath caught as she turned again to watch them. The girl was pretty, hands flying around as she barely stopped to breathe, clearly and emphatically in the middle of some epic tale.

“Oh, I’m gonna find out.” Ellie stood and, taking a deep breath to center herself, strode over to the pair. The girl saw her first, glancing around in confusion; she looked younger than Ellie originally thought and the flash of red lipstick did nothing to age her. “Hi, Colt.”

He turned, eyes widening before quickly schooling his expression to neutral. “Hi, Ellie.”

“So....what are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow before tilting his head towards the front of the shop. “Getting coffee?” 

“Yeah...” She tried to shoot a significant look at the girl, but Colt ignored it. “That is what one does here. I’m here with Riya.”

Colt looked back and gave her best friend a small wave, hands settling back in his pockets as he studied Ellie. “Ok...”

She waited, but no introduction was forthcoming. Well then. “Who’s your friend?”

He blinked. “Ellie, this is Sam. Sam, this is Ellie. Kira’s mom.”

“Oh my God, Kiki?!? She is so adorable!” Ellie froze, staring at the girl. Apparently, Sam had met Kira and apparently, Sam knew her well enough to call her by her nickname.

“Ah, thank you.” She tried to get her bearings back and failed, just staring at her, taking in the hair that flew about her face as she spoke, the innocence shining in her eyes. She reminded Ellie a little of herself, once upon a time, and the thought made something twist deep in her heart.

“We were making origami flowers together the other day and she said that she was the flower princess but then she tried to put the flowers in a muffler so then we had to get pizza and Kira doesn’t like pepperoni so-”

Ellie blinked, dumbfounded. Who in the world-?

“Next!”

And, thankfully, the story was interrupted by the barista, calling for the pair to step forward.

“Ok...” Ellie looked between the two, jaw dropped. “Well, so nice to meet you. Colt, I’ll see you at the recital tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

Ellie slunk back to the table and dropped into her seat. “That was a fail.”

“What happened? Who is she?”

“Her name is Sam.”

“And?”

Ellie sighed, heavy through her nose. “Dunno but she’s met Kira.”

“Whoa.” Riya’s eyes widened. She knew what a big deal that was. Colt still hated all people outside of a core, select group of people that Ellie had once been a part of, as tightly encased there as she had been in his arms. So for someone new to be introduced to his daughter? Ellie hazarded a glace behind her, where Colt was paying for both of their drinks.

“Yeah.”

“You think she’s the girl he’s bringing to the recital?”

Ellie put her head in her hands. “I don’t know.”

The answer to that question came far too quickly for Ellie’s liking. The next day she found herself fidgeting in the cheap cramped seats of a local auditorium, toes tapping a quick beat on the floor of the auditorium as her whole leg jiggled.

“Why are you so nervous? And when does this start?” Logan shifted next to her, trying to move away from the elderly woman on his left who kept glancing over as if she were going to try and pinch his cheek. “This is awful.”

“I know. Thank you for coming.” Ellie knew how atrocious this was. And Logan wasn’t even the one who had to slick Kira’s wild hair into a semblance of a braid. “It should start soon.”

Movement to her right made her look up, relief painting her face as Colt squeezed through the row. And behind him?

“Hi, sweetie!” Ximena pushed Colt to the side to pull Ellie into a huge hug. “Thanks for letting me come! I’m so excited to see Kira dance.”

Elllie let out the breath lodged behind her collarbone. “Ximena! X, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it! Hi, Logan!”

Colt’s face hardened, eyes glowering as he stared Logan down, barely giving him a nod before plopping into the seat next to Ellie. “When’s her first dance?” Colt and Logan had never had the best relationship but, since Colt was back, she felt like she was in the middle of a war zone and one wrong move would detonate a grenade.

“Fourth one.” Ellie said and fished out the program from under her chair. “First the teachers, then the actual dancers, some older kids, then her class.”

He nodded, staring straight ahead at the empty stage. “Why’s Logan here?”

Her stomach dropped. It seemed silly now. “He wanted to see Kira dance. Why’s X here?” The lights flickered above them, signalling that the show was going to start, the shadows flickering over his scowl.

“Same reason.” He crossed his hands over his chest with a huff; it looked like he wanted to say more but bit his tongue. Ellie studied him out of the corner of her eye. “How long is this going to be?”

She rolled her eyes. “Buckle up cuz you’re here for hours.”

“Are we going out after this?”

“Kira said she wanted to get ice cream at the beach.”

“Does he have to come?”

Ellie’s elbow shot out before she could stop it. “Come on.” 

“Shhh!” The woman behind them leaned forward in her seat as the tinny tinkle of piano started from the speakers. “It’s starting.”

Ellie grinned apologetically, Colt just huffed and sank lower in his seat. “God forbid we miss a moment.”

“Oh my God, stop.” She elbowed him again but, based on the laughter in her voice, she didn’t think it carried the right effect. 

And based by the smile she got in return, she knew he was emboldened. “What? You don’t want to miss-” He glanced at the stage and snatched the program from her, sighing. “Whatever the hell this purple monstrosity is?”

“Oh come on, you know you’re going to watch Kira when she comes out.”

“And sleep until that happens?”

“Going for Best Father Ever, here?”

He knocked into her shoulder; he didn’t need to move far, tiny seats pressing the audience into close quarters. “I already have a cup that says that, thank you very much.”

“Umm, hello? Kira made it before she could spell and it actually says Best Farter Ever.”

“And I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

She laughed and then remembered where she was, shrinking into her seat. “If you get me kicked out...”

“Oh, because I’m always the one dragging you into trouble?”

“Umm...yes?”

“Fine. Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “But you get into enough trouble on your own, thank you very much.”

“I plead the fifth.” 

She leaned against him as he looked back at the stage. “Are those kids dressed up as sunflowers? What the hell is happening?”

“Colt!” She elbowed him in the side, again, digging in further, casting a careful glance behind them. “We cannot get kicked out of a dance recital.”

“You say it like this would be the worst place I’ve been kicked out of.”

She leaned against the arm rest to glare at him and his answering smirk back made her pause, quirk of his lip making her realize how close they were, squeezed into the audience, fake velour under her fingers the only thing that separated them. She leaned closer.

Her heart stopped as Colt’s hand dropped, almost as if her were going to clasp her palm in his, almost as if he forgot that wasn’t a thing they did anymore. Her breath caught. They were so close to touching, inches, when she could see the look on his face change, when he remembered, when he realized that he couldn’t, shouldn’t.

And the moment was over. He ran his hand through his hair. Ellie turned away, leaning back in her chair and staring at the dancing sunflowers on stage. She could feel the electricity underneath her skin, a counterpoint to the voice in her brain telling her this was a bad idea.

Ellie focused on watching every single dance and staying on her side of the fabric barrier between them.

~~~~~

Before (when things actually couldn’t get better so they had to get worse...)

Kira was screeching, counting numbers in some semblance of order (she would proudly proclaim that she was almost three to anyone who walked by but still thought eighteen came after ten). Ellie shook her head and walked into the bedroom, pulling open the drawer of her bedside table.

Who even used checks nowadays? Urgh. She had no idea where her checkbook was, but it definitely wasn’t there. She rolled her eyes, annoyed, and it was just then that she noticed her bed was vibrating. Well, more specifically, her comforter was vibrating, likely because of the person-shaped lump underneath it that was barely holding it together.

Ellie blinked and carefully lifted up a corner. “Colt?”

“Shhh!” He was beaming, smiling up at her in mirth, eyes shining.

“What are you doing?”

“Kicking ass at hide and seek?”

“Oh my God.”

“And I can try to sneak in a nap at the same time. Brilliant.” He had been working a ton recently, coming home dead on his feet after long days, but this was a little extreme.

“Daddy?” Kira’s quizzical cry came from the hallway.

“Shh!” Colt grabbed Ellie’s wrist and pulled, dragging her onto the bed. “She’ll hear you!”

“Jesus!” Ellie was shrouded into darkness as Colt pulled the comforter over her, pulling her close and effectively hiding them both. It was warm, underneath the down, encased in his arms; she could feel her body heating up in multiple ways as he pulled her closer.

“Hmm....” She could hear his voice coming from somewhere below her right ear and, before she knew it, his lips were teasing the sensitive skin behind her earlobe, open-mouthed kisses sliding lower. “I can think of something else this hiding spot is good for.”

“Oh my God, Colt!”

“Daddy?!?!” The shout was in the room now and Colt’s laugh was huffed against her. Ellie tried not to squirm but his hands around her waist and lips brushing against her neck made it a challenge.

Little hands threw the comforter on the floor. “I found you!”

“You did!” 

Kira squealed as her dad grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into bed with them, tickling her sides as she laughed and laughed and laughed and Ellie thought that she had never, in her entire life, been happier than she was at this moment, watching Kira struggle to breathe through her laughter, watching the worry lines on Colt’s brow fade to joy. She felt content. She felt whole.

“Alright, Kiki. I’m gonna find you now!” Colt clambered up, lifting Kira high over his head. “You better find a good spot.”

Their giggled echoed down the hall as Ellie lay, smiling, basking in the moment. What had she been doing? Oh yeah, the checkbook.

It hadn’t been in her bedside table; maybe it had wound up in Colt’s?

She pushed herself out of bed and wandered over, pulling the drawer open and feeling around. She didn’t see the checkbook immediately but paused when her fingers hit something soft. It felt like fur, maybe velvet, and she pulled it out to see.

And froze.

She checked the doorway to make sure she was alone and sank onto the bed, clutching the ring box in one trembling hand. One last look out the doorway, double-checking, triple-checking, and she opened it, millimeter by incremental millimeter; when she saw the gleam of a diamond, she gasped, shutting the box and throwing it back in the drawer.

They hadn’t really talked about it; she knew Colt was as devoted to her as she was to him but, with Kira and two demanding jobs between them, she never really paid attention to the legal status of their relationship. But, judging by the ring hiding in the back of his bedside table, he had. 

Holy shit.

Ellie couldn’t hold back the smile splitting her face. Her answer was never in doubt.

~~~~~

Now (when things aren’t so sure and things aren’t so good, and it’s still the beginning now...)

“What do you mean you were called in to work?”

“I’m sorry, Ellie.” She could tell that her dad felt bad, both that he was bailing on her and that he wouldn’t see Kira tonight. “It was a last minute thing since Silver got injured yesterday.”

“I understand.” She peered through the glass door into the hallway; it was empty, bright corporate signage taunting her as her mind raced. At least the CEO hadn’t arrived yet and she still had some time to come up with a backup plan. “I’m sure I can figure something out. Someone will be able to watch her.”

“I’m really sorry, kiddo.”

She frantically looked through her phone book as she paced in the conference room, fingers stabbing the digits to try to get to her friends. Riya had tickets to the Lakers game. Logan had to work late in exchange for getting Saturday off.

Ellie took a deep breath as she clicked on her last hope; she had one more person to try. Things had been fine at the recital and he didn’t mention any plans-hopefully, he was free.

“Hey, Ellie.”

It was loud on the shop floor, shouts and banging filtering through the line. “Hi, Colt. Are you busy tonight?” She could hear him step away from the ruckus and into the office; when he shut the door, it was blessedly quiet.

“What’d you say?”

“Are you busy tonight? I’m desperate.”

“Umm...”

“I have a huge work meeting tonight and my dad can’t watch Kira anymore. Are you free? Can you pick her up from school and stay until I get there?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you, you have no id-”

“Ellie, it’s fine. Jeez, she’s my daughter; I want to see her. Do you want me to have her sleep here and I can just drop her at school tomorrow?”

“No, I shouldn't be that late. Just bring her to my place.”

“Ok.”

She took a deep breath as she hung up the phone. It would be fine. She wasn’t going to be that late. 

...Except she was.

The meeting went well. Amazingly well. Astoundingly well. So well, in fact, that  she and her team had headed out to their local bar to celebrate for just one drink.

That had turned into two drinks.

That had turned into more, so many more that she couldn’t drive home and could only cling onto the bar when her legs stopped working as she chatted and laughed and reveled in a job well done.

But now it was late and Kira was probably in bed and she couldn’t get her damn key into the lock because the doorknob wouldn’t stop moving. She took a deep breath and rested her forearm on the door frame, stable enough to slow the spinning, if only for a moment, so she could slide the key in the lock and yank the door open and stumbling her way into the house, cursing how easy martinis went down and time flew by.

At least she had the peace of mind to throw her shoes off, to try to dull her footsteps as she stumbled in, feeling her way around the furniture to hit the lights.

“Colt?” She tried to whisper but she wasn’t sure she succeeded, voice echoing around her.

No answer.

“Colt?” She edged her way into her living room and stopped short, barely managing to stay upright before crashing to the floor. He was asleep on the couch, long legs dangling over the side, rise and fall of his chest visible under the wrinkled tee, hitched up so she could see the cut of his abs, treasure trail a tease that disappeared under the button of his jeans. He looked soft, vulnerable, and she could feel her breath catch. It was too intimate, watching him sleep on the couch that used to be his, in the house they used to share, with the daughter they made and raised just down the hall. It was too dangerous, seeing him this soft, as soft as he was in her memories, memories of a better time when her family was whole and she didn’t sleep alone.

And do a lot more than sleep in that bed. Because even in her drunken state, she could vividly recall what was under those jeans.

She watched him for a minute, taking in the long lines of muscles, the flawless eyebrows, the line of his jaw. “Colt?”

He started, turning to her as his eyes flickered open and fell on her. “Hey. How was your work thing?”

“Good. Sorry I was so late.”

“No worries.” He sat up, yawning.

“How was Kira?”

He blinked up at her, slowly, hair mussed into the bedhead that was all too familiar and that she wished she had forgotten. “Good. We went to the butterfly exhibit at the zoo.”

She could just picture them, hand-in-hand, looking at butterflies and stopping for ice cream before they left. It was the life she had and wanted and lost. She opened her mouth to speak but instead, she hiccuped. Loudly. And did it again, alcohol turning warm in her stomach, heating up the blood flowing throughout her body, setting fire to her face as she blushed.

“Let me...” Colt stood, staring at her uncertainly. “Let me get you some water.”

She nodded, following him into the kitchen, watching as he filled a glass and handed it to her. “Did your-hic-did your girlfriend go?”

He paused, eyes cutting to her. “Huh?” He handed over the glass and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Did your girlfriend go?”

“What girlfriend? And go where?”

Ellie’s hands flailed and she grimaced as the water sloshed onto the floor. “The girl. Your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“But...” She narrowed her eyes at him, sipping the water. “Can you stop moving around? You’re all floaty.”

“You’re all drunk. You should go to bed.”

“No! I’m-” She swayed and had to put the glass down, heavy hand clasping the counter for support. “I might be drunk.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, eyes almost fond. “I should go home.”

“I thought you were gonna bring her to the recital.”

“Bring who to the recital?”

“Your girlfriend, Colt, keep up.”

He opened and closed his mouth. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Ellie. I think you should-”

“If you don’t have a girlfriend, I think you should kiss me.” If she had any coordination left, she would have slapped her hand in front of her mouth as penance for speaking before thinking. However, as it was, she needed to hold on the counter so she wouldn’t slink onto the floor; with no extra hands, she bit her lip and flushed, face and body heating up in shame.

He gaped and ran a hand through his hair, rocking back on his heels. “Ellie, you’re drunk. And you have a boyfriend. We’re not gonna-”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“But you do. I mean, you have since I got out.” His eyes narrowed. Ellie wanted to smooth the lines from his forehead. Hell, in her drunken state, she wanted to do a lot more.

“What? I don’t, I haven’t, not in a looong time.”

He stared, for so long she almost considered letting go of her iron grip on the counter to walk towards him, but wasn’t sure that she would make it without falling to the ground. Finally, he spoke. “It doesn’t matter. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.” She was starting to get offended by the aspersions against her sobriety, but she didn’t know which of the three Colts in front of her she should complain to.

“You are.”

“Would you if I were sober?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Would you kiss me if I were sober?” She was acutely aware of the distance between them- five feet, ten tiles, four steps, none of which she was currently capable of taking. She could feel the distance weighing heavy on her skin as she blinked at him.

“Ellie...” He walked forward, cautious and slow: three feet, two of his steps, and she felt braver. 

“I think you would. I think you should.”

His eyes trailed down her face.

“I think you should kiss me now.”

“You’re drunk.” It was a whisper, a breath, but loud enough to rocket through the static in Ellie’s brain as he stepped forward again.

“But if I were sober?”

He was so close that she could follow the path of his eyes, locking with hers, then down, glancing at the mole on her cheek, the freckle on her chin, before ending the circuitous gaze at her lips.

“If I were sober, would you kiss me?”

“If you were sober, I would carry you back to your bedroom and show you what you've been missing for the last two years.”

She blinked once and, when her brain caught up to his words, her hands leapt of their own accord, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling, pulling him closer so his chest met hers and their legs were tangled and none of that mattered because they were kissing, finally kissing, after two years apart, after missed connections and miscommunications and none of that mattered when he backed her into the counter, hands on her hips, mouth never leaving hers.

Heat immediately flashed through her body; was it the kiss? The booze? The fact that it had been two years? 

The world spun as strong hands under her thighs lifted her; suddenly, she was perched on the counter. He was slotted in between her legs, mouth dropping to her neck, to the spot behind her ear. She couldn’t think, couldn’t control herself, legs wrapping around him to pull, closer, please, closer. She moaned as his lips moved to up her chin, stubble scraping her jawline, warm friction the most welcome sensation in the world; she wanted to feel the rough scratch all over her. She let out a shuddery exhale, barely formed into his name, pulling at his shirt. His hands slid up her thigh and they were scorching hot, fingers ten lines of fire skating up her already overheating body, underneath her dress, higher still as she though she was going to burst into flames, burn up from the inside and explode. She was spinning when she closed her eyes, spinning when she opened them, the world moving as her head dropped back against the cabinet.

He was going to light her on fire and all she wanted to do was burn.

“Ellie-” His lips had somehow found her ear. It was so hot, so warm in this room, in this skin. The room wouldn’t stop moving. “Ellie, I-”

She grabbed at the edge of the counter, trying to make everything still. It was all spinning, her familiar kitchen curving around her. It must be the heat. It couldn’t be good to be this hot. 

He pulled back, only a blurry shape between the spots in her vision. “Ellie?”

She blinked.

Time was starting to bend, sway, change; she could have sworn that he had been right in front of her, hands and lips and taut muscles and stubbled jaw so close she swore they had been touching, but now, suddenly, he was across the room, feet away, eyes unreadable.

The lights in her kitchen were shifting too, spots of color flaring at the edges of her vision, warping and changing and disappearing when she tried to focus.

She blinked.

And he was in front of her again, hands on her waist to lift her onto the floor, smoothing down the lines of her dress, a dress that was not so professional, not anymore, not when it had made its way up her thighs to make room for strong, clever fingers dragging paths of fire along her skin.

The room was shifting too, floor moving, swaying, walls in funhouse patterns around her. She grasped the counter behind her, wrapped Colt’s t-shirt in her other hand, struggling to stay upright with the tilting of the room.

She blinked.

And Kira was there, talking, words coming too fast for her tired brain to understand, Colt filling a plastic unicorn glass with water as the spots of light grew in her eyes.

She blinked.

And the spots of light were a blaze. She opened her eyes to light, bright light, everywhere, and a pounding in her head that spread throughout her body with every throb, the roar of her heartbeat making her wince as it joined the jack-hammering in her brain. She squinted and managed to make out familiar walls, her desk, the large window that was allowing the painful sunshine to pour into the room. She was in her bedroom, somehow, feeling like hell. Everything hurt, she couldn’t think through the construction in her brain, and her mouth was dry and tasted like bad decisions. Crap. She knew these signs. She was hungover.

From the living room, she could hear the soft patter of tiny feet and muffled giggles. Double crap. Kira was up, which meant she needed to fight through the wreckage and somehow pull it together. She rolled over to grab a pillow to throw over her aching eyes and, while she thankfully caught the scream before it left her throat, she couldn’t stop the gasp.

She wasn’t alone in bed. She could see a hint of dark hair, a defined bicep muscle and strong shoulder completely out of place on her sheets. She hazarded a look down and winced. She was naked.

Oh my God.

“Stop freaking out, nothing happened.” Oh, thank goodness, it was Colt. Granted, not great, but, if she was going to wake up in a questionable position next to someone, he was definitely the best of some bad alternatives. “I’ll get her.” The sun slammed pinpoints of pain through her eyes as she watched him clamber out of bed, throwing on clothes.

“If nothing happened, why am I naked?” Triple crap. She was barely able to speak, hoarse voice fighting through chapped lips.

“Because you don’t listen to reason when you’re drunk?” He shrugged on a shirt and she watched the cut of muscles in his back move as he dragged his arms into the sleeves.

She licked her lips and even that small movement hurt. “Why are you here?”

“Because I didn’t think you would be able to function today.” He looked over his shoulder, eyes taking in her supine form, huffing out a sigh. “I wasn’t wrong.”

He wasn’t wrong. She felt like death, eyes falling closed as he left the room.

And eyes shooting open as she remembered.

She didn’t remember everything, had a sense that the night faded from her mind as the hours crept by, but she definitely remembered balancing on the counter as her hands slid though the short hairs at the back of his head and his hands slid up her bare legs. She definitely remembered words and kisses that took her breath away and she remembered leaning back against the counter, warm and pliant, held captive by his hands and his lips and the sparks settling in the base of her stomach. She lifted a shaky hand to her jaw; the skin there was still sensitive, the line of his stubble leaving a flush trail that tingled as her hand gently probed her chin.

Colt said nothing happened.

She wouldn’t call these memories ‘nothing.’

Fuck.

Her mind raced. She tried to think through the noise in her brain but was coming up short, memories refusing to return from whatever mental place the alcohol buried them in. She remembered the work meeting, the bar, coming home; she remembered them kissing, could still feel it in her toes. But then? Nothing. 

Urgh.

She was never drinking again.

If she listened closely, focusing on the world outside the pain, she could hear Kira and Colt in the kitchen.

“Daddy! You wore those clothes yesterday.”

“Seriously?” He coughed, awkwardly bumbling before he could respond. “You’re wearing a tutu and dinosaur rain boots while carrying a plastic sword and you want to talk about my outfit?”

“I’m a ballerina dinosaur hunter, daddy! Can I have toast?”

She pushed herself to a sitting position, waiting until the room stopped spinning, and then pushed to a stand, waiting until the floor stopped lurching. She had just managed to throw on some sweats when the door opened again, Colt ducking in with a glass of water and a couple painkillers.

“You said nothing happened.” She tried to glare at him but it hurt her eyes

He blinked. “Nothing happened, Ellie. I know you woke up naked but I swear to God we didn’t-”

“We kissed.” She snatched the pills from his hand, throwing them in her mouth. He handed over the water glass and looked away from her, guilty as hell.

“Yeah. We kissed. That’s it.”

“That’s not noth-”

“I know that.” He looked intently at her, voice dropping to a pained whisper, glancing behind him to where Kira was humming, still out of sight in the kitchen. “I know that. But I meant that we didn’t have sex. Because that didn’t happen.”

She looked at him uncertainly. “What did happen last night?”

“You came home drunk. You asked about Kira. We talked.” He bit his lip and sighed. “We kissed in the kitchen. Kira got up for water and I put you to bed. That was it.”

“Why was I naked?”

“That was all you. You said that you were too hot for clothes.”

“Why didn’t you sleep on the couch?”

“I tried!” He gaped at her. “You said, and I quote, ‘you saw me give birth, Colt, I think we can share a bed.’“

She put her head in her hands, both to cover her blush and to try and quiet the pounding in her head. She was never drinking again.

“Hey.” He touched her arm. “Hey. It’s fine. You go back to bed. I’ll bring her to school.”

She let her hands fall, flashing him a grateful smile. He turned to go but her hand shot out to grab his forearm, skin soft underneath her fingertips. “Thank you.” She tried to ensure her tone conveyed some of the gravity she felt but it sounded more like a croak from a ruined throat.

However, as he gazed back at her, not removing his arm from her grasp, she thought he understood.

~~~~~

Before (when shit comes heavy heavy, storm’s right here, let it in) 

Cake? Check.

Decorations? Check.

People? Check. Obviously, Kira was here. Of course, she didn’t exactly have a choice and was currently sitting on her grandfather’s lap, throwing her hands in the air with a delighted squeal at every bounce of his knees. Riya and Darius were in the corner, pouring over the piles of presents, while Logan, Ximena, and Toby had already started diving into the pizza.

Everything was perfect for Kira’s third birthday and, as soon as Colt got home from work, they were going to have cake.

But he was scheduled to arrive over an hour ago and she hadn’t heard a word. She was just about to light the candles without him when her phone rang.

“Mona? Where are you?” Her brow furrowed. Not exactly who she had been anticipating calling her but...

“I have some bad news.”

Ellie felt her stomach drop. “What?”

“Colt got picked up. We think they’re gonna hold him without bail but we’re not sure until the arraignment.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry, Ellie. He said to tell you that he’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Hold up. What?” 

Mona’s voice was uncertain as Ellie reached around, blindly, hand finally grasping a chair and sitting. “It’s gonna be ok. I promise. He’ll call tomorrow.”

Ellie blinked at the phone, staring dumbly until Riya walked into the kitchen. She was barely able to get the story out, shock and distress clouding her mind as Riya held her close and rubbed her back until the tears had dried and Ellie could fake it enough to stand and smile and not scream.

She was numb, completely numb, going through the motions, the candles, the cake, the smiles. She was lost, fear and anger and shame roiling in her stomach. 

And, the worst, the absolute worst of it was that, with every picture that was taken, she felt his absence stab her through the heart, knowing that they were documenting an empty space as they documented Kira’s third birthday. She couldn’t stand it and had to excuse herself so only the bathroom mirror would see her tears.

He did call the next day, when the presents had all been opened, when the cake had all been eaten, when the decorations had all been put away, and when the shock had faded and been replaced with blinding anger.

“Ellie. Baby.”

“I am going kill you.” She ducked into her bedroom, voice packing as much fury as she could into a whisper; regardless of how angry she was, she couldn’t wake Kira up.

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Don’t even, asshole.”

“Baby...” Colt sighed, pleading. “I’m so sorry but don’t worry, the charges won’t stick and I should be out soon and-”

“Don’t worry? Don’t worry?!?” She could feel the angry tears start to cloud her vision. She closed her eyes but could only see red. “You missed her birthday.”

She could hear noise behind him and a rustle, voice louder as he pulled the phone closer. “I know... Ellie....”

“Don’t ‘Ellie’ me. What the hell did you do?”

“It’s a really long story and I can’t really talk about it here.”

“For fuck’s sake, Colt! I can’t believe you!” She blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from falling. “I thought we were done with this shit, I thought your family was more-”

“But Ellie-”

“Don’t ‘’but Ellie’ me!”

His sigh was heavy. “I’m sorry but I promise-”

“No, you listen to me! I can’t believe you! Listen to your stupid excuses and stupid promises. You know what? You’re exactly like your dad.”

The intake of his breath was sharp on the phone line. “Ellie-”

“You said you weren’t your dad and look at you now,” she spit venom out over the line. “What if you don’t get out?”

“I will.” His harsh whisper was certain. “I will, give it some time and-” 

“No.” The tears were burning on her cheeks. “I’m not going to be waiting here for you. I’m done.”

His voice was pained. “You don’t mean th-”

“I’m done, Colt. Done. I can’t have my daughter around this. I can’t be around this.” She sunk onto the bed, weak legs no longer able to hold her up. “Don’t contact me. Really. Don’t call. Don’t write. If you ever get out, then maybe you can see your daughter. Until then, goodbye.”

“Ellie, wai-”

The silence on the line finally and completely broke her heart. She allowed herself five minutes, five minutes of hysterical, cathartic tears, then trudged back into the kitchen to make lunches for tomorrow. 

Colt or no Colt, she had shit to take care of.

~~~~~

Now (things are getting better so keep it steady steady...)

The birthday party was in full swing, Kira laughing and spinning in her princess gown, clad in a giant party hat with a bright pink five right in the center, when Ellie ducked into the kitchen to find Colt hunched over the counter. His body was angled just so she couldn’t see what he was looking at. Suspicious.

“What are you-?” She peered over, just enough to see the plate in front of him. “Are you sneaking cookies?”

He turned, eyes crinkling with mirth, boyish smile gracing his face. He looked young, innocent, presiding over his hoard with a smudge of chocolate on his top lip. “Shhh....she’s gonna hear you!”

“Thief! You goddamn thief! Give me one!” She stepped closer, hand out.

“No way! These are mine!” His eyes sparkled and, at moments like these, Ellie had to remind herself that they were over, that they weren’t together, that it was a distant history, her distant past.

“I’m so gonna tell Kira you broke into her stash.”

“My stash now.” 

“Just give me-” She reached over, trying to get at the cookies around him, and he started batting her away laughing.

“No, you’re gonna ruin it!”

“Not if you share!” She hip checked him, trying to move him, but he only pushed her back, each of them fighting for space in front of the heaping plate. Finally, Ellie managed to edge in between him and the counter, snatching a cookie, spinning triumphantly. “Got one!” The words died in her mouth as she realized how close they were, his hips pressing hers into the counter, lips inches from hers, the smear of chocolate on his upper lip tempting her, sweeter than any cookie she’d ever seen.

A soft thud caught her attention and she looked down, realizing the cookie had fallen out of her hand. She swallowed and looked back at him. “Colt?” He wasn’t blinking, eyes trained on her lips and his hands curling around her waist. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Daddy!” Colt jumped back as if stung as Kira flounced into the room. “Are we gonna have cake?”

Ellie blinked at where Colt was still staring at her, eyes wide; apparently, she was going to need to recover her voice first. “Yeah, in a minute.”

“Ok! Yay! I love cake!” Kira answered as only a sugar-high five year-old could and danced off.

“I’m gonna-” Ellie licked her lips and gestured to the food behind her. “I’m gonna get-”

The rest of the sentence was lost in Colt’s mouth as he surged forward and pressed her against the counter. She responded eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck, licking the chocolate off his lip and then pushing her tongue to meet his and chase the rest of the sweetness. He moaned low in his throat, hands grabbing her hips and sliding against her back, shots of electricity that went straight down her spine. She kissed him like she was drowning, like she had been drowning for years and the breath she pulled from his lungs was what she needed to revive her, to awaken her nerves and the shivers down her back and the tingle even lower.

She had just slid her fingers into his belt loops, yanking him closer, grasping at every inch of skin she could reach, when footsteps registered at the edge of consciousness. It was impossible to pay attention to anything else, however, when Colt’s teeth made their way to her lip, a teasing bite that made her jerk her hips. 

But she was forced to look up when the door to the kitchen flew open with a crash and Colt jumped backwards, both of them gasping for breath.

“Holy shit.” Riya hissed, shock on her face fading into a knowing grin that Ellie despised. “I’m just gonna...” She put the dirty dishes on the counter and covered her eyes. “Carry on. I’m just gonna go back out and you guys can continue whatever it was that you were doing.” 

Ellie glared daggers at her back. When she turned to Colt, the moment had faded; he was looking at the ground, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other gesturing towards the door. “I’m gonna-”

She nodded, busying herself by fixing up the desserts. They said history repeated itself so you had to learn from it, but she wasn’t sure she understood this lesson. 

At least this time, she was sober.

~~~~~

Before (when things got worse, went from bad to worse, went from bad to worst...)

Ellie frowned, putting the phone down with a sigh. 

She should have known she wasn’t ready to jump into anything again, the breakup with Colt so fresh, so raw, but Logan was Logan. He was kind and caring and so undoubtedly attractive that she let herself believe that they could more from friendship to more without stopping to think. To think about what she wanted, to think about her broken heart and worried mind and her ruined life.

She had just been so lonely. And alone. And sad, as sad as she had ever been. And scared, terrified really, of being a single mother and having no one else to rely on, other than herself. She knew first-hand how cruel this world could be; could she and Akira really survive as a dyad, a pair, fighting through the storms together? She wasn’t sure.

But when her world turned upside down, Logan had been the person she could rely on. Ximena was around, often, but Ellie suspected that it was because Colt requested it, had asked her to check in and care for his family when he couldn’t. And, to his credit, he hadn’t called her, had respected her angry words, words that she sometimes thought she would take back if given the chance, if he had called. She wondered what they would say, if he would apologize and explain, if she would apologize and take back her rage. Those thoughts remained unspoken, though. He didn’t call. She didn’t visit. And she was alone.

But not always alone. Logan had been there, for the mundane, such as pickups from school or last minute grocery trips, and the less mundane, such as calming her tears when the stress and worry became too much. 

But jumping into a relationship? It was too much, too soon. She couldn’t...she just couldn’t... She sunk into a chair and put her hands over her face. He had even been so understanding about it all, vowing that they would stay friends, vowing that this wouldn’t ruin their ten year friendship. Regardless of what else they had going on, he had her back.

Her ruminating was interrupted by a knock at the door, three sharp raps that made her pause. She wasn’t expecting anyone and tiptoed over, peering through the peephole and gasping. 

The last person she expected to see on her doorstep was standing there, repetitively cracking his knuckles and rocking back on his heels, frown on his face. She threw open the door. 

He straightened and looked down at her; any nervousness she saw through the peephole was gone now as he stared in barely contained fury. “Hello, Ellie.”

“Hi, Colt.” She took a minute to drink him in; he was glaring at her, arms stiff at his side and hands balled into fists. She hadn’t seen him in four months and couldn’t stop her eyes from assessing him, looking him over under the dim streetlight above them to see how he changed. He looked harder, muscles in his chest more defined, tilt of his shoulders more aggressive, but it was him, alive and free.

“Can I come in?”

She dumbly nodded and stood aside so he could walk in, stooping to untie his boots and leave them in the entryway before stepping inside. She felt unmoored, lost. “When did you get out of jail?”

“Last week. They dropped all charges. Just like I said.”

She swallowed. His words were dripping with poison; while they had their share of fights, he had never spoken to her this coldly. He had never scared her; for all his criminal activity and illegal transgressions, he had also been tender hands and declarations of love with her. While she wasn’t scared of him now, she suddenly knew what it was like to be in front of Kaneko, instead of her Colt.

“You waited a week to come-”

“I’m here now. I wanted to talk to you about Kira.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.” She wondered if he would let her apologize for her words or if it would be pointless, just like the last four months had been: pointless and long and unforgiving.

“We need to come up with a schedule so I can see my daughter.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper and hand it to her. “Here’s what I recommend. It’s an alternating schedule; one week, I’l get her Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Then you have the following weekend and we switch.” His tone was short, business-like, serious.

She looked down at his careful writing on the paper. “Okaaay.” Her brain wasn’t keeping up. Apparently, she wasn’t going to get an apology either; maybe it was for the best. “This is fine. I guess. I mean...” She bit her lip, trying and failing to think.

“This is just a starting point. Modifications are fine based on schedule.” He hadn’t taken his coat off, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Then, yeah. Yeah, this is fine.”

“Good.”

“I missed you.” The words came out before she could reconsider.

His eyes narrowed, darkening dangerously. “I’d like to see my daughter, please.”

“She’s...” Ellie had to suck in a breath, blinking to try and keep the tears from her eyes. This is not exactly how she imagined the reunion. Thank goodness he hadn’t arrived any earlier, to catch her stilted conversation with Logan. “She’s asleep.”

“I just want to see her.”

“Ok.” Ellie sighed. “Fine.”

He nodded brusquely and walked past her towards Kira’s room, opening the door as softly as possible. She followed, slowly, feet padding behind as she stopped in the hall. Ellie wondered if jail had hardened him, if the tight jaw and narrowed eyes were an artifact of being inside for so long. 

However, as she peered through her daughters doorway and saw him sit carefully on the side of Kira’s tiny mattress, tears pooling in his eyes, gentle hand caressing her face with inexplicable softness, she wondered if it was she, herself, was the hardening force. 

 ~~~~~

And now (for the end of the end and the beginning of the beginning...)

“We should stop.” Her hands fisted into his t-shirt, pulling him closer so her hands could greedily start working on the button of his jeans. She had only come to pick up Kira, to take her home for dinner and bath and story and bed and another night of being alone. She had not come here to be pressed against the filing cabinet in Colt’s office, his lips sliding against hers and strong arms holding her hips steady.

His lips edged to her ear and he hissed as her hands found her target. “You’re kinda giving me mixed signals here.” 

She also hadn’t come here to see Sam, the young coffee shop girl with bright lipstick and rapid prattle, playing checkers with Kira on the concrete floor of the shop while Colt was in his office. It made something ugly burn in her stomach, ugly and nasty and painful; in the back of her mind, she realized that she understood what it was like to be replaced and how deep that hurt went. “We should stop, we’re in your office, Colt.”

“I’m well aware.” His hips bucked as she gave him a slow stroke, just how he liked. Some things were impossible to forget.

“And Kira’s outside.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.” The noise was huffed against her neck as warm hands slid up her back. 

She blinked. Kira was outside with the coffee shop girl and Ellie was in here, with her ex and her broken heart and her broken family that had never really been fixed.

“Stop.” He froze instantly at the word and her dead voice, his hands stopping their path up her sides. “We can’t do this.”

"Ok.” He took a few steps back, breathing hard. He looked debauched, standing in front of her, hair mussed, shirt wrinkled, cheeks and lips flushed a bright pink that continued down and disappeared into his shirt. 

“Listen, El-” He quickly fixed up his pants, taking a deep breath and another step back. “Ellie. I-” He rubbed his hand over his face. “This isn’t-”

His struggle for words was interrupted by a scream, piercing in the shop, and then a crash that trailed off into silence. Colt caught her eye for a split-second, fear clouding his gaze, before cursing. “Fuck, Akira!” He threw open the door to the office and sprinted into the shop, Ellie hot on his heels. 

And what she saw made her heart leap into her throat. 

Kira was on the ground, a crumpled heap, next to a cabinet of tools that lay on its side. Its drawers were askew, wrenches and screws and metal scattered around where her child lay, eerily still for a child who never stopped moving. Colt made it there first, turning her over as Ellie’s hand flew to her mouth. Kira’s eyes were closed, eyebrows and lashes stark against her pale skin, below a patch of blood that was steadily getting worse. 

“Kira? Hey, Kira?” He was under her now, sitting, crouched down, careful hands combing back her hair to get a better look. Her arm was splayed out at an odd angle, cradled in her dad’s lap, and Ellie thought she was gonna throw up.

Colt reached into his pocket, trying not to jostle the still bundle on his lap, and tossed his phone to Ellie. “Call an ambulance. Now.”

She nodded, shaky, fingers typing in the eight numeric digits without thinking, unlocking the phone with trembling hands as she sank to the floor so she wouldn’t drop the phone. Even sitting on the concrete, her knees were knocking against each other and she felt so cold, watching Colt pull their daughter to him; she dialed the number.

Sam came running down the stairs, dark hair flying behind her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you get me the first aid kit?”

“911, what is your emergency?”

“I-”

“Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Break room.” 

“911. Hello? Ma’am?”

“I-” 

“Hurry!”

“Ok, I’ll get it.” Sam’s footsteps disappearing into the break room brought her back into the moment. She had taken down corrupt cops and stolen multi-million dollar vehicles. She could call an ambulance.

“Yes, I’m here. I need an ambulance to Gramercy Park. My daughter is hurt...” She looked at the wreckage around her as she gave the dispatcher the information, her daughter cradled in Colt’s arms, shouts from the back as Toby and Ximena came running out. She sat and trembled like a leaf in a tornado, desperate to hold onto something for dear life.

She shook the entire way, as she watched the red lights flash throughout the street, the entire ambulance ride, clutching Colt’s hand until her knuckles were white and sore. Kira had woken up during the trip, eyes confused and frightened watching the strange equipment and paramedics bustling over her, crying when she told them that she only wanted to climb up the toolbox-she was so so sorry and she would never do it again and it hurt. Ellie shook and trembled and fretted as she watched the stretcher go down the hall, off to some scan with some machine that would tell them if something was seriously wrong, shook the whole way to the waiting room as they checked her baby out and she and Colt had to wait interminably as the local news blared on the television chained to the wall and she paced and paced and paced.

“Ellie, she's going to be okay.”

Ellie wringed her hands together. “I know, I know. I'm just...I can’t believe...”

“Yeah.” He plopped into a chair, long legs splayed in front of him.

She glared at him, flash of anger coming on the heels of the terror. “I thought your girlfriend was watching her.”

“Who?”

“Sam?”

“Who the hell’s Sam?”

Ellie blinked at him. It was like they were inhabiting completely separate worlds. But maybe they had been for the last two years. “The girl in the shop? Who was playing with Kira?”

“Wait, the receptionist?”

Ellie froze in mid-flail, hand returning to her side. “Who?”

“Toby’s cousin? Who works the front desk?” Colt stared her down. “Jesus, Ellie, that’s who you’ve been talking about? For Christ’s sake, she’s 18. And she works for me!”

“Toby’s cousin?”

“She needed a job. I needed someone to sit at the front desk and play solitaire and not blow shit up. It worked.”

She sank into the chair next to him, legs giving out. She was entirely drained, her body, her mind, everything; she put her elbows on her knees to cradle her head in her hands, boneless and tired. “Colt, how did we end up here?”

“Uhh, how did we end up at the hospital?” He watched her, warily. “El, did you hit your head too?”

“No. How did we end up here?”

He watched her, eyebrow raised, waiting to see if she would elaborate. When she didn’t, he sighed and crossed his hands over his chest. “You mean, the fact that you dumped me when I was locked up?”

“Colt, I was furious. And rightfully so.”

“I know. You were right to be pissed. Hell, you were right to kick me out.” He raked his hands through his hair.

“I was furious and then I stopped being mad. And started being sad.” She looked at her hands, trying to choose her words carefully. “And it was like you didn’t care. When you got out, you waited a week to see us and you hated me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true, it is, and our family fell apart.”

“I never hated you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” She had to lower her voice; even though they were the only ones in the room, she didn’t want anyone walking by to hear the sobs of her broken heart. “You were so cold and so mean and you hated me, despised me. For months. I’m sorry that I was so mad but-”

“Stop it.” He turned to her, eyes fiery underneath the down-turned brow. “I never hated you. But you-”

“But I what, Colt? What the hell did I do?”

He looked forward again, staring at the television. “I came to see you, you know. The night I got out of jail. I came by the house.” He bit his lip, still avoiding her eyes. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“No, you didn't. I would have remembered that.”

“I did.” His arms were crossed and he looked past her, over her shoulder. “You weren't alone.”

“Of course I wasn't alone. I had Kira all the time.”

“No. That's not what I mean. You weren't alone.”

The realization was immediate. “Logan.”

He nodded and looked away, jaw set.

“Colt.... Colt.” Her eyes started to fill up with tears. “It wasn't like that. I was scared. I was scared and sad and alone and I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone and I thought I was a single mom and I really needed somebody. And you weren't there.”

He shrugged. His eyes were glassy, too. “Well, it didn't take you long to move on, did it now?”

“It wasn't like that.”

“Wasn’t it?”

They just stared at each other, the years and pain and heartbreak filling the space between them. Finally, Colt’s eyes dropped to the ground, to look at the magazine rack behind her, to look anywhere and everywhere but her.

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “What were you going to say?”

“What?”

“What were you going to say, the first time you came by?”

“Ellie, what the hell do you think I was going to say?” His voice shook slightly. “I wanted my family back. I wanted to move home. I wanted you.”

She sucked in a shuddery breath, tears coming faster now. “I would have said yes. Colt, I would have... I would have said yes.” She bit her lip, watching him take in her confession, saying nothing. The television continued to blare in the background, now the theme song of some game show. 

He opened his mouth. And reconsidered, thinking, before turning to her, serious look on his face. “Ellie, what if-”

“Excuse me.” They both turned, Colt leaping to his feet, as a nurse walked in. “You can come back now. The CT’s done.”

They arrived at her room to see the doctor hovering over her, Kira’s eyes open but blinking slowly. She looked drawn, exhausted. Ellie raced to her bedside, taking the tiny hand not encased in gauze and clutching it as tightly as she could.

“I’m ok, mom. I’m ok.” Kira was pale, propped up on pillows, bandage almost comically large for her small head.

“She really is ok. The good news is that it’s just a concussion. Scan revealed nothing abnormal so she should be fine, but she should stay here for observation tonight and then we can put her cast on tomorrow.” 

“They said I was tough and gave me a sticker.” Kira proudly showed off the unicorn on her shirt.

“You are tough, kid.” The doctor smiled kindly at her, and then turned to Ellie and Colt. “Would either of you like to spend the night as well?”

“I’m staying.” They both spoke in unison; Ellie shot a surprised glance over but Colt’s jaw was set, certain.

The doctor continued undaunted while scrawling on her clipboard. “I mean, you can both stay, it’s just a tiny room and the cots that we have are pretty small for two people.”

Ellie blinked as Colt answered for the both of them. “That’s fine.”

Ellie considered disagreeing but held her tongue. She almost spoke up when Kira slipped into a blissful sleep, painkillers and exhaustion taking hold. She almost spoke up again when the nurses gave her some scrubs to wear, pale blue and threadbare, but soft against her skin. She absolutely had to speak up when she saw the actual size of the cot.

“We’re not sleeping together on that.” It was made for one person, half the size of her bed at home, the bed that was hers alone and had been hers alone for years.

Colt dropped onto the mattress, frame squeaking as his long legs stretched. “What do you mean? I’ve seen you give birth, I think we can share a bed.”

She whacked him over the head, sitting down next to him with a huff.

“What, I can’t use your own words against you?”

“You’re incorrigible.” She looked down uncertainly. “I don’t think this will hold us both.”

He rested his hands under his head. Even though they had turned off the lights so Kira could sleep, monitors cast a eerie glow about the room. “It’ll be fine. And if it breaks and you get hurt, we’re already in the hospital.”

She rolled her eyes and stretched out, turning away from him but still acutely aware of his body, right behind her, warm and comforting and familiar. She shifted, trying to get comfortable in the tiny space, no room to move between Colt and the wall, hospital beeping and din doing battle with her tired mind. She was almost comfortable when Colt spoke. 

“What would you say now?” 

“Say now about what?” She turned to see him, profile visible in the dark as he stared up at the ceiling. “Huh?”

“If I told you I wanted to come home. In the waiting room...” He rubbed his palm over his lips. “In the waiting room, you said you would have said yes when I got outta jail. What would you say now? If I asked?”

Her stomach dropped. “Colt...” She sat up, elbow propped so she could study his face, the tears forming in his eyes. “Colt...do you want to come home?”

“More than anything.” He turned so he could face her fully. “Ellie, more than anything. I’m done with-”

The rest of the words were meaningless, mumbled and garbled as she leaned forward to press her lips to his. He pulled her closer, desperate, needy, hands flying over every inch of her as if to reassure himself that she was real.

His voice was hoarse when he pulled back. “You know how important family is to me. You know I don’t want to be my dad, you know this.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I fucked it up.” She could see the remorse painted on his face, remorse and pain and maybe a little hope too. 

“I know.” She laid down on the cot, dropping her head on his chest, weary exhaustion seeping into her bones. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, El.” He kissed her forehead. “I missed you and Kira and my family. Every day. This is what’s important to me.”

Her eyes were blinking slower now, hospital noise fading from her mind.

She almost didn't hear his whispered ‘I love you, El’ as she sank into darkness.

~~~~~~

Ellie was still in the place between sleep and waking, where everything was warm and quiet and still, mind and body just floating in space, when a familiar arm curved over her, sliding just under her breasts to settle by her rib cage. Her eyes shot open as the body behind her leaned close to nuzzle the curve of her neck, breath warm on her skin, and she heard the sleepy sigh that had once been so familiar, as familiar as her own name.

No one else held her like this. And she knew, in her hearts of hearts, that no one else would ever hold her like this again.

She spun around and Colt’s eyes blinked open unsteadily. “Colt?”

“Wha-?”

“I didn’t-” Her brain was fuzz, eyes unsteady as she took in the sterile walls, unfamiliar medical supplies. “Did I dream this?

His hand was still around her, now drawing patterns at the small of her back. “Dream what?”

“Are we back together?”

“Yeah, well, that was the good part of the night. Kira also got a concussion and needs a cast on her arm.”

"And that was the nightmare part of the evening.” She blinked, her recollection of the day slowing coming into focus behind her eyelids

He pulled her closer on the tiny bed. “But concussions heal. Bones heal. She’s gonna be ok.”

“Do families heal?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Are we gonna be ok?”

He was silent, through thirteen low beeps of a monitor while Ellie held her breath. Finally, he shook his head. “Not just ok. I think we’re gonna be great.”

She settled against his chest and sighed, his heartbeat matching the droning beeps above them, matching her own heartbeat in her ear. It was a weird place to find happiness but she thought that maybe, hopefully, finally, she had her family back.

~~~~~

Two years later...because the beginning of the beginning segues into the middle too...

Ellie was distracted, lost in her own head and her own circling thoughts, anxious fingers keeping busy by cleaning the kitchen counter, but even she couldn’t ignore Kira’s screech.

“Wait wait wait! I want my unicorn cup.” 

“Which unicorn cup?” Colt shook his head as he walked in, their daughter bouncing behind him.

“My favorite unicorn cup....duh, dad.”

Ellie laughed as Colt stretched high to grab the requested cup, the same cup that Kira hadn’t taken a sip from in over a year. The grin her seven year-old gave was blinding as she filled it with water and flounced away.

“Duh, dad,” Ellie echoed, knocking into his shoulder with a smile, appreciative of some distraction to get her mind of the treadmill of thoughts she had been on for the last few days.

“She sounds like a teenager.” 

“What if I wanted the unicorn cup, Colt?”

“We have seven unicorn cups, take your pick.” He groaned. “I’m gonna get her into motorcycles. We could start a motorcycle cup collection."

“Hmmm....or have a boy....” Ellie mused out loud.

When she realized what she said, her heart stopped, mouth falling open, She tried and failed to cover it up with a cough, her mind inadvertently flashing to the shopping bag hidden in a pile of clothes on the floor of her closet, the bag she hadn’t get had a chance to open, waiting for a moment alone when the house was quiet and still and she would have the appropriate solace for a life-changing moment. 

But of course, Colt noticed everything.

“Ellie?”

She said nothing, couldn’t get the words to come.

“Ellie? Is there something you’re not....” She watched his eyes widen and trail down to her stomach. He stepped closer, lips quirking into a brilliant smile. “Ellie?”

“I don’t know for sure! I wasn’t going to say anything until I was sure.”

“Oh my God, you’re pregnant.”

“I’m not sure but...” He swept her into a hug, lips finding hers; she was giggling and kissing and seriously, deliriously happy. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“It’s a boy.”

“How are you so sure? I don’t even know if I’m really-”

“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to trail his lips up her jaw. “I know everything.”

“Really.”

“I know you’re pregnant.” Soft hands pulled her against him.

“Ok.”

“I know it’s a boy.” Soft lips traced the underside of her chin.

“Ok....”

“And I know you’re gonna marry me.”

She leaned away to look into his eyes, heart stopping. “You haven’t asked.” Her mind flashed to before, years ago, a distant memory of finding a ring by his bedside when she thought she was as happy as she could ever be.

He winked at her, cocky and sure. “I know. But you’re gonna.” Suddenly, she felt even younger, 18 again, watching a boy with a motorcycle take on the world. But this time, she was by his side.

“That’s not a proposal.”

He shrugged, stepping back and moving to follow Kira out of the room. “I know.”

“Wait.” She turned, unable to stop the grin from spreading over her face. “Just wait a second.”

“You’ll see. I know everything.” And with that, he was gone, out of the room, leaving behind more questions than answers.

She stood, frozen on the spot, staring at the space he just vacated, grin spreading over her face until she thought her cheeks would split in two. 

She thought it was a lie that broken bones healed stronger.

But maybe families did.

And maybe right now was actually as happy as she had ever been.

Tags: @choicesseptemberchallenge  

Perma @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327

ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @choicesgremlin @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @brightpinkpeppercorn @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗➛ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕

i hope you guys are okay with the genders i picked and i hope you like this reaction. 

and to those who have sent in father related requests, those will come in time as i’m doing this in chronological order. 

and i’ll try my best to do one dad!bts post per week. 

Kim Namjoon

The two of you sat on the floor of the beautifully comfortable rooftop terrace of your apartment building. No one was outside and it was just you and Namjoon, his face illuminated by the small bonfire burning a few feet away. 

Namjoon sat opposite of you with his right knee pulled into his chest as he looked at you. 

You sat opposite of Namjoon, your legs outstretched as you leaned against the couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as your hands rested comfortably on your bump.

“Namjoon, you open it,” you said. “Y/n, you open it,” he replied. You tried to glare at him, but you broke into cute little laughs. “Namjoon, you open it,” you said with a sense of urgency in your voice. He shook his head, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“Joon, I took the pregnancy test and brought it to you. You can open the envelope and bring it to me,” you said smartly, cocking your head to the side. “Oh, I see how we’re doing this,” he said with a deep chuckle, reaching over to hold the envelope. “So, does this mean that since I made dinner last night, you get to make it tonight?” he asked, being a complete smart ass. 

“Shut up and open the envelope, you idiot,” you teased, but quickly watched with wide eyes as his long fingers opened it. 

“Guess you’re going to be outnumbered,” he said with a sweet smile as he crawled over to you. You raised an eyebrow. “It’s a boy, y/n. Geez, and I thought you were the smart one,” he joked. Tears prickled your eyes as Namjoon sat beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. 

“I know he’ll be as smart as you, Joon. And I really hope he gets your height,” you said as you breathed in his scent, silent yet colorful fireworks going off inside. His long fingers rubbed your arm up and down. 

“I’ve always wanted a son, you know,” he said, leaning his head to the side so his cheek was resting against the crown of your head. You smiled. “You’re going to be the best dad, baby,” you said, snuggling further into his warm body. Namjoon smiled from ear to ear at the sound of that. 

“You’ll be the best mom, baby,” he said, placing a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Wait, so do I actually have to cook dinner tonight?” you asked, causing Namjoon to let out that laugh you love so much. “No, baby. You do enough. You carrying our son is enough. I’ll cook tonight, so don’t worry about that,” he said.

Not like he didn’t already, but Namjoon would treat you like a princess throughout this pregnancy. Because not only were you the love of his life, but you were carrying the best thing you could have ever given to him. And for that, Namjoon was eternally grateful. 

Kim Seokjin

Jin was far too invested in these old wives tales for predicting a baby’s gender. You honestly thought it was a little stupid, but Jin had a whole chart on the wall in the kitchen that he made sure to tally and keep track of daily. 

You let him have his own little thing because you could see how excited and happy it made him. All of the boys played into it, too, placing bets on what the gender would be. 

Honestly, it was just incredibly amusing to watch. 

However, your doctor was the most amused when she saw the look you and Jin gave each other when she asked if you wanted to find out the gender. You laughed when Jin called all of the members and had the phone on speaker so they could all hear. 

“Well, congradulations, you’re having a boy,” the doctor said happily. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter and point at Jin’s shocked face as the boys erupted into either cries of defeat or cheers of success. “I told you!” you exclaimed. Jin gave you a glare, before breaking into laughter himself. 

“Yah! These wives tales are lies. I really thought the were right because they told me it would be a girl,” he complained. “Aw, Jinnie, you’ll be okay,” you said as you pulled his face closer to yours so you could kiss his cheek. He told the boys he would call them later before hanging up and placing a kiss on your stomach. 

“Regardless of those lies,” he began, causing you to playfully roll your eyes, “I’m glad we’re having a boy because he can inherit my handsomness,” he said, causing you to slap your hand over your forehead in embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, looking over at the doctor. She chuckled. “It’s fine. That was the best reaction I’ve ever seen to learning the gender,” she said, causing both you and Jin to laugh. 

“Here, I’ll go get the printed pictures from the printer and give you two some time to yourselves,” she said before getting up and leaving the room. 

“Bets aside, and the fact that I was right about the gender, we’re really having a boy, Jin,” you said. He smiled and rested his forehead against yours as his hand searched for and found your distended stomach, his thumb rubbing over the skin. 

“A little boy. God, he’s gonna be so handsome,” Jin said, causing you to giggle. “Very handsome,” you replied. “He’s going to be picking up all the ladies,” Jin predicted. “Sweetie, he hasn’t even been born yet. Let’s take it a day at a time,” you suggested, causing him to playfully pout. “Fine.” 

Min Yoongi

You and Yoongi had just arrived home from your ultrasound and the car ride was completely silent. The sounds of other cars and your surroundings seeped through the metal of the car, but your mouth remained shut and so did Yoongi’s. 

It didn’t even feel appropriate to play music since all you and Yoongi could think about was what the envelope resting in the cupholder said. Listening to your mom’s experience with children and childbirth wrapped you and Yoongi in a blanket of fear. 

But as long as you had each other, you two knew things would be okay. 

The silence continued inside the apartment and as you and Yoongi stood next to each other, the envelope on the table in front of you, you couldn’t help but break into little fits of giggles. Yoongi turned to you, amused but equally confused. “We’re being so stupid. It’s just going to tell us the gender, is all,” you said with a smirk. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi began, “but it also tells us the number and if it is more than one baby, y/n, I swear,” he said in a serious voice, but all it did was cause you to break into laughter. He crossed his arms and pouted cutely. “Validate my feelings,” he whined. “I’m sorry, Yoongs. I understand why you’re so nervous. But there might not even be anything to be worried about. We’ll just have to see what it says,” you explained, slowly reaching for and holding the white envelope. 

“I want you to open it, Yoongs. You need to face this,” you said with a chuckle as you put it in his hands. Slowly, with his ringed fingers, Yoongi opened the envelope and pulled the small slip of paper out of it. You watched his face for any change in emotion, and when you saw tears prickling the brim of his chestnut eyes, your hand instictively reached out to hold his forearm. 

He took in a shaky breath. 

“We’re having a little girl, Y/n,” he said, looking over at you, his eyes painted with immsense happiness and his lips drawn up in a cute little grin. Your heart grew larger than your stomach as you nearly cried yourself. Yoongi placed the envelope back down on the table and pulled you in for a soft yet intimate hug. His hands rubbed the small of your back, while his lips placed butterfly kisses against yours.

“I know she’ll be just as beautiful as you, y/n,” he said, his hands moving to place themselves on either side of your protruding bump. “My girls. Damn. I can get used to saything that,” he mumbled, causing you to smile. You’ve always loved the idea of having a little girl to play dress up with and watch all the Disney movies with.

And that night, once you had fallen asleep, Yoongi shimmied his body down so his face was level with your stomach. Delicately, he lifted your shirt further up. “Hey, little baby. Well, I guess you’re a baby girl, now. My baby girl,” he said, his pointer finger gently tracing a line over the soft skin.

“I’ll always protect you, baby girl. Always. And don’t tell mommy this, but I can tell you’re going to be a daddy’s girl,” he said in a whisper, not wanting to wake you up. And for at least an hour, Yoongi talked to his daughter, feeling an even stronger connection with the little baby in your stomach.

Jung Hoseok

You had discovered what the gender was when you went to an ultrasound alone. Hoseok was so upset that he wasn’t able to be there, but he was stuck in a different country with a delayed flight, but you promised to send him the ultrasound pictures to cheer him up, and while it did temporarily, Hoseok was visibly upset for hours after the fact. 

You kept it secret for a week until you told Hoseok that you were planning a gender reveal party. And for the following week that it took for you to properly plan it, Hoseok tried to get you to tell him what it was, but you wouldn’t budge, no matter how cute he was. 

You invited both your family and Hoseok’s and all of the boys and your closest friends. There, in your backyard, was all your favorite people in the world.

For the actual revealing, you had gotten a piñata for Hoseok to hit, which you thought would be perfect for the energetic person he was. 

You stood next to the boys as you watched him hit it with all of his power. 

One hit. 

Two hits. 

Three hits. 

It was after that third hit that it burst open, blue confetti pouring out as everyone cheered excitedly. Hoseok ran towards you and picked you up excitedly. “A boy!” he exclaimed, kissing every inch of your face. You nodded. “A boy, Hobi,” you replied. He put you down and pulled you into a tight hug, a few stray tears wetting your neck. But those were all happy tears. 

“I wanted a boy,” he whispered against your lips, causing you to chuckle. 

But his screeches of happiness didn’t stop there. When he bit into a cupcake and discovered blue frosting inside, you nearly spit out your water to laugh when you heard the familiar screech from across the backyard. 

Even after cleaning up later that night and getting into bed, Hoseok would not stop rambling about how excited he was to have a mini version of him walking around. 

Park Jimin 

You were outside taking pictures of the aftermath of a thunderstorm. The sky was a medium toned gray and there were a few white clouds appearing in the sea of dark charcoal clouds. 

The grass was wet, but if you got your camera to focus, you could see each individual waterdrop on the tips of the dark green grass. 

It smelt like it had just rained and for some odd reason, it calmed you down. if you believe rain has a smell we can be friends. 

Jimin watched from the window, a small smile on his face. It always brought positive energy when he would watch you do what you love. And you were in the zone, too. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as you squinted to  examine the photo you just took. 

But then the phone rang and Jimin got a call that made his day one of the best. 

You were standing in the garden, examining a picture of a ladybug you took, when Jimin joined you outside and snaked his arms around your waist from behind, his hands holding your bump through the large shirt you wore. 

You smiled. 

“Can I help you, Mr. Park?” you asked, a grin on your face. His warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. 

“I just got a call from the doctor about the gender,” he said right into your ear, causing you to quickly turn around to face him. “What? You know what the gender is?” you asked, eyes wide. He nodded, the cutest smile on his lips. “Tell me,” you whined, causing him to cutely giggle. 

“We’re having a little girl, y/n,” he said in a soft, gentle voice. You could not contain your excitement. You were always secretly hoping for a girl. You hugged Jimin and he tightly wrapped his arms around your figure. 

“A little baby girl,” you mumbled happily to yourself. You felt him nod. 

“A little baby girl. A little version of me and you, but obviously with all of your gorgeous features,” he said, causing your smile to grow and your cheeks to blush, if that was even possible at this point. 

“What picture were you just taking?” he asked out of pure curiosity after several minutes of silence while the two of you just hugged. “A ladybug,” you replied. 

“Hm. She’s our little lady bug, y/n. Small and cute,” Jimin said, causing your heart to flutter. And it was at that moment that your little lady bug gave you the smallest little kick. She liked that nickname, too. 

Kim Taehyung 

“Tae,” you said, peeking your head into his office. He was sitting at his desk, his head down as he wrote into his journal. His back was to you, but at the sound of your voice, he turned around and his once-serious expression turned soft when he made eye contact with your stomach. 

“How’s my little baby doing?” he asked in a soft voice as he rolled over in his office chair, his large hands holding each side of your large bump as he placed a big kiss on it. You smiled. “Are you busy right now?” you asked, looking down at him. He looked up at you, his hands dormant. 

“I’m never busy when it comes to my babies. What’s up?” he said, causing you to smile. He was already keeping his promise of making more time for you and the baby wasn’t even here yet. 

“There’s something I want to show you,” you said, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “What is it?” he inquired. You shrugged your shoulders. “Just come to the bedroom with me,” you said, extending your hand. Taehyung stood and held your hand and followed you as you brought him down the hall and into the bedroom. 

There, laid out on the bed, was one baby onesie, in blue, with the Gucci logo on the front, with a matching hat and bib. And beside it, was the same thing but in pink. 

“Did you go shopping for the baby or something?” he asked, turning to look at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how oblivious Taehyung was. 

“It’s not one baby, Tae, it’s two,” you said, holding up two fingers for extra emphasis. His eyes widened and darted back to the clothes on the bed. “Wait, the colors...” he began, slowly turning to look back at you. You nodded, a small smile on your face. “A girl and a boy,” you said, confirming his suspicions. 

His whole face lit up. “Two babies? A boy and a girl? Twins?” he asked, obviously unable to maintain his excitement. You nodded. Before you knew it, he was placing fast yet sweet and savory kisses on your face before he was on his knees, talking to his babies. 

“Hey little prince and little princess. Mommy already knows that you two will be the best dressed babies out there,” he said, causing you to chuckle. He placed a slow and gentle kiss on your stomach. “A little y/n and a little Taehyung. Isn’t that magical, darling?” he said, looking up at you. You nodded. “It is,” you said. 

“This changes everything now. We have to redesign the nursery to feature two babies, rather than one,” he said, standing up and taking out the small binder he had purchased, just to help the two of you gather inspirtation and paint swatches for the nursery. You chuckled at his excitement and rubbed your stomach as you watched your husband neatly fold the onesies before taking out his laptop and going on pinterest. 

“Baby, come sit. I need your advice on this shade of yellow,” he said, looking up from his spot on the bed. You chuckled and sat beside him. 

And that’s how you spent your evening. Redesigning a dream into an even better one. 

Jeon Jungkook

“Stop being an asshole,” you whined as you tried your best to chase your child-like fiancée around the living room. Your stomach wasn’t large to capacity yet, but boy, was it getting there. And your typical physical mobility was beginning to lessen day by day. So, yes, Jungkook was being a little bitch for making you chase him around. 

He held your phone tighty in his right hand, an email from your obstetrician waiting to be opened on the screen. You and Jungkook, like the children you were, couldn’t decide whether you wanted to know the gender when the doctor offered to tell you when you were getting your ultrasound earlier that day. 

So, she settled with sending you an email with the gender in it for you two to open when you felt the time was right.

And after some more bickering, you decided you didn’t want to know, but Jungkook did want to know. As a way to buy himself some time, he grabbed your phone and ran around with it. 

And it’s been just over five minutes and he’s still running around, his bunny-like smile permanantley drawn on his face. 

“Fine, Jungkook. I kinda want to know, too,” you said, giving in as you collapsed onto the couch, too tired to continue further. He stood on top of the opposite couch, the phone held up high. “So, I can look at the email then?” he asked, looking over the screen to you, his eyebrows up high. You nodded, watching him, amused. 

His eyes searched the screen and after one tap, his eyes widened and his body froze. 

Suddenly, your phone slid out of the grip of his hand and fell onto the floor, breaking. 

You sat up immidiately. 

“Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted, a look of disbelief on your face. 

“It’s a boy!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, doing more laps around the living room, his arms up in the air as that bunny smile made a reappearance. “Wait, really?” you asked, suddenly excited as you momentarily forgot about your broken phone on the floor. 

“A little Jungkook. Imagine that,” Jungkook said as he made his way towards you. Placing his hands on your hips, he leaned down and placed a loving kiss to your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss as his tongue traced the outline of your lip. 

But before you allowed things to get carried away, you stepped back from Jungkook and pointed at your phone on the floor, completely shattered. He giggled cutely. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll buy you a new one,” he said, filling the space between the two of you and pulling you in for a hug. 

“You better,” you mumbled into his chest. 

But the stress from your phone went away and the joy of finding out you were having a boy replaced that emotion, filling your body with warmth. 

[bluekayanite]

Comments/theories: In Dreams - Homeworld Bound

So I kind of missed the SU:F updates for a bit. ^_^;  That said, I'm caught up now, and have some misc. comments that I figured I'd share... before the next eps or two comes out. XD;

...That said, I was actually working on this when I'd heard that Homeworld Bound was out already. -.-;  It's on XFinity Stream, at least - and I suspect other streaming services - so I consider it "officially released."  I've since adjusted to implement the new info.  However, I'm making the comments in an ep-by-ep structure, so if you want to avoid spoilers, you can easily stop once you get here. =3

I'd also like to note that this one's more rambly than usual, so prepare yourself for rambles. XD

EDIT: Some adjustments, mostly additions. EDIT2: Couple more little deets. EDIT3: Few more MAJOR deets. XD;

Just a quick note: my current, primary theory is that, even with everything that seems to be glaringly obvious, White also has the power to alter Gems' memories and such, and Rose was not truly Pink Diamond (or at least, in a sense, not THE Pink Diamond).  Lately, I basically think that she may be a sort of a hybrid, or at least that Pink put a lot of herself into Rose... lately I've even suspected that it might be even more literal than I've previously noted... as in, Pink may have prepped some healing tears and broken off a shard of herself... or something. ._.;;;

But yeah, I figured I'd note this in advance because, well... I realize it sounds crazy.  It's going to be mentioned, so I ask for a bit of open-mindedness - or at least a willingness to entertain the idea, even if you think it's wrong (and I don't blame you if you do).  Frankly, I wouldn't be surprized if a lot of people would have already closed this post before getting to this sentence.  (That said, if you're still here, thank you!)

With that out of the way, let's get going!

In Dreams

Okay, so Crewniverse was definitely being self-aware, and using meta-humor. XD

I've commented here before that previous eps had a building feeling of listlessness and whatnot.  My sister also has commented (not in a place I can link XD; ) that the opening theme gets more and more jarring with each episode.  The both of us think that odds are pretty good that they'll switch to using something the reprise version of the theme. XD;  ("Here we are in the future, and it's wrooooong!")

...That said, while things have been getting intense (not to mention REAL!), I do appreciate that we seem to be moving out of "boredom" eps. XD;

The dreams-being-broadcast thing is more-than-likely a bit of setup for later story points.  I'm thinking "Emergency broadcast."

On an entirely different note, I like the confirmation that Peridot has green eyes. =3

Been sort of a headcanon of mine for awhile now. ^_^

Also, is it just me, or is Peridot getting taller? 83

Anyway, it's nice to have a bit of lighthearted funtimes in the midst of all the seriousness that has been going on. =3

Bismuth Casual

So... those toilet paper jokes certainly ended up being at an ironic time, right? XD;

Anyway, one of the things that stuck out to me is how increasingly obvious Pearl's obliviousness is.

One of my long-standing theories is that Rose saw Pearl more like a daughter, if anything... and didn't realize - or even have a clue that Pearl had a thing for her.

And I mean, really, if Pearl can't tell whether any human - or Gem - is into her, then how could she know for sure whether or not Rose did (or didn't)?  Odds are she's just going by her memories... which I strongly believe to be unreliable, what with how many contradictions they have. ^_^;

Together Forever

(...Does anyone else keep hearing the old Pokémon song by the same name in their head? ^_^; )

...Okay, I'm gonna confess: it actually didn't occur to me that either Steven or Ruby was supposed to be "cute" until it was mentioned in Hit the Diamond and Sadie Killer.  (I didn't count Andy saying it in Gem Harvest because I figured he had a family bias. ^_^;  I mean, he did make a complete and abrupt 180 about the parts of his plane being recycled, once it was Steven who started using them.)

...Cuteness is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. XD;

I guess I can see how Crewniverse was going for "cute" with Steven...  Still, about the only time I've considered "Steven" to be cute - visually or otherwise - was after that last bout of Ultimate Steven tag.

...Yeah, I think that the Gems did the puppy-dog eyes better than Steven did. ^_^;  I mean, I would call Steven "sweet," "silly," and a number of other things.  Just... "cute" isn't typically one of them for me. ^_^;

That said, there are moments when I think that Ruby is being cute. =3  One of them is when she RAEGING.

Another one is when she's being happy... especially when she's super-excited.

So yeah. =3  For me, it was pretty nice to see Ruby spazzing like that.  It's also kind of nice to see Steven eating sweets again... even if it's for unfortunate reasons.

...yeah.

It's also nice to see R+S's new forms. =3

The headband is back! 83

(...Why hasn't there been a mention of Sapphire being cute?  She seems like the most obvious choice. XD; )

On another topic... So it’s not just Pearls that can store stuff in their gems? o.O

Anyway, part of my theory is that [Pink is really trapped in the moon base's observation orb], which she can use to see some of what's going on.  When Pink is watching, the moon might show up, and/or the sky might turn pink (usually around dawn/dusk) - the more intense either of these things are, the more intensely she's watching.

Looking back at when either of these happen, I've noticed that:

She seems to be a 'shipper

She particularly 'ships Steven + Connie

This ep certainly continues with that pattern. 83  Heck, I think that the extra lights on the horizon might even be from Pink - maybe even intentional on her part.

Even after the turn-down, the moon still showed, BRIGHTLY - at least until Garnet got there.

I also noticed the moon at the end of Little Graduation - in general, I'm getting an impression that Pink has been wanting to help Steven... but obviously, she wouldn't be able to.

However, that said, with the way things are looking, I think that she's going to get her chance, shortly... more on that farther down. =3

Side note: The glowstick-bracelet “ring” is a nice touch. =3

Other side note: JAM BUDS REFERENCE! 83

Also: Strawberry. =3

Also-also: it seems like Garnet actually does tend to give some pretty good love advice.

"Your soulmate is your compliment, not your missing piece.  [...]  Whatever hole there is in your life, Steven, I want you to understand that Connie - Stevonnie - won't be able to fill it." - Garnet, Together Forever

...Also-also, my suspicions about Garnet sorta being three people keep growing. XD;

...Incidentally, I’ve mentioned before that I think that Connie is probably ace and/or aro (though I didn’t know the latter term at the time).

Growing Pains

On the funny (at least to me) side, I noticed that Dr. Maheswaren checked for Steven’s heartbeat on his right side (which, ironically, would be the wrong side XD).

There actually is a genetic condition that can flip the positioning of the internal organs, though I’m pretty sure that it’s simply an oversight in this case.  For one, Dr. Maheswaren shouldn’t think to check there unless she’d checked the usual positioning, first.  For another... it’s actually not the only slip up in that shot; Steven’s gem has a hexagonal crown instead of the usual pentagonal one.  (This happens a lot, especially on Quartzes.)  The biggest thing, however, is that Steven actually does grab the left side of his chest later on.

But yeah, just some stuff that I thought maybe some other people might consider interesting. =3

Anyway...

So it's FINALLY established that Steven has PTSD... and appears to be having panic attacks.  Frankly, for a long time, I was under the impression that nothing like this would ever come up. XD;;;  Call me crazy, but in a weird way, this is kind of a relief for me.  It makes things feel more genuine to me.

...Hmm... I wonder if part of why we haven't seen panic in other characters is because they're hiding their own PTSD?  Maybe the reason why so many are just carrying on is as a sort of coping mechanism.  Maybe the also don't want anyone to worry.

...Or maybe this is an effect of this being a cartoon. >.>;  I mean, as much as I can see that Crewniverse is trying to touch on a lot of hard topics (and I appreciate that), we can only expect it to be so realistic.  Plus, a good story needs a bit of balance to it - as nice as it is to see the worrying stuff, it needs a good balance, or else it tends to be overwhelming.

In particular, I've been reminded that SU:F does have a number of much-younger viewers - I think we need to bear in mind that they probably aren't likely to handle this stuff as well as the older audiences. ^_^;

But yeah, I'm definitely glad that at least there's something, and the reaction seems fairly realistic (at least as far as having a half-Gem character goes).  Even the fact that there was a delay is fairly realistic... maybe a bit more of a delay than usual, but... I guess Steven is half-Gem?

Also: cartoon. XD;

And of course, it's really fascinating to see the medical aspect of Gems (or a lack thereof).

And of course, the sneaking in of an Amethyst-behavior joke. X3

Also: you can see Steven's chart in two of the transitions. 83

(Assuming Dr. Maheswaren got his height right... I’m actually admittedly jealous that he’s actually taller than me - especially since it looks to me like he should be shorter. XD; )

Also-also: I noticed that a lot of things that had nothing to do with Steven's life being in danger got referenced. ^_^;  Granted, I'm sure they're still important to him, but I thought I'd still bring it up.

I also couldn't help but notice there being a direct reference to Adverse Childhood Experiences, which is an actual term.  I suppose Steven's are unusual... but whatever the form, ACEs can still be pretty impactful. =/

...I do wonder if Crewniverse knows anything about Childhood Emotional Neglect.  It's supposedly an even bigger impact than abuse and whether one recovers from it.  That said, AFAIK it's lesser-known - even the term was coined less than a decade ago (2012, if I've got my dates right).  It's mentioned on the list of ACEs... I think?  But it's not very well defined there, so... it's hard to know.

At any rate, it definitely seems like a thing that could be a factor... more on that farther down.

Mr. Universe

It was nice to see Steven and Greg getting some bonding time in... even if it was short-lived. ^_^;

Can't help but wonder whether or not Steven's eating a veggie burger. XD;

Steven drooling in his sleep... it's been a headcanon/theory of mine that maybe Pink does that. X3

Okay, so maybe this is a cute picture of Steven... now that he's more grown-up. X3

Anyway, It's nice to learn some more about Greg's side of the family.  Especially since - aside from the strictness - they really do seem like they're probably nice people.

I mean, for one, they still kept reminders of Greg - his stuff, pictures of the whole fam, and even his letters... even if they never opened them.

(...Is it just me, or does Greg's mom look an awful lot like Connie's?)

And based on their stuff, I think it's pretty likely that they at least have a gentle side... even if maybe they didn't know how to properly use it with Greg. XD;  (Or maybe they're simply an appearance-conscious family. ^_^;  ...Which is apparently considered a gaslighting type of parenting-style. =/)

In any case, I hope we meet them, later. =3  Maybe they've mellowed out... or maybe they will as soon as they meet Steven. X3

My sis pointed out that Dear Old Dad plays - as in, the song from the last ep Steven and Greg fought in.  Only this time, it didn't end out well. ^_^;  Quoth her, "That's some next-generation foreshadowing!"

But yeah, I can see why Greg might be so frustrated at his parents that he would want to change his surname. ^_^;  ...And I can also see why Steven would be upset at Greg going as far as he did. =/  Pendulum effect: being so upset by one extreme that you go just as far into the other extreme, and it sounds like Steven paid for it. -.-;

This is part of what I mean by Childhood Emotional Neglect potentially being a factor... though in general, Greg's hands-off parenting style could very well fit in as a form of emotional neglect - parents who are just kind of buddies and try to give comfort on everything kind of avoid a lot of the issues, instead of teaching their kids how to deal with them, including on an emotional level. ^_^;

But yeah, the fact that Greg apparently didn't consider whether Steven might still want some of the usual aspects of childhood seems like it could also count. ^_^;  At the very least, it's common for Well-Meaning-But-Emotionally-Neglected-Themselves parents to give their kids what they wish they had in childhood, without actually considering whether it's what the children themselves want.

It's also common for emotional neglect to be passed on through families in ways such as this, so... seems like it could be a thing.

Oh, and you know how Steven also had to be "the adult" for the Gems a lot?  That also counts as CEN. XD;  Heck, that link even mentions the need to care for others that Steven continues to struggle with.

The parts about Steven trying to hide his struggles would also fit in with CEN, though his knowledge of emotions - and vocabulary thereof - does seem to be pretty big.  I can't help but wonder if CEN is something that's being inserted in more as a retcon, but wasn't planned at the beginning.  I mean... CEN was just being figured out around the time that the original SU series came out, so it seems pretty unlikely that it was the original plan.  I could see Crewniverse trying to work it in now, though.

...It's also possible that it's not really what they're going for and that it's sort of included by accident. XD;  I mean, there's often more than one way to arrive at the same conclusion, even coming from the same set of information, at times.

But yeah, CEN is important to me, and it's nice to see that it might be a part of the show. =3

Fragments

Okay, so that first convo was chock-full of examples on what NOT to say to someone who’s panicking. ^_^;

And those are just a few of them. ^_^;

I think that this is probably foreshadowing, and/or a setup for something coming shortly.  More on this farther down.

Anyway, I'm sure I'm not the only one who was thinking back to Why So Blue? XD;

(Or, belatedly, Strong in the Real Way.)

I do think Jasper has kind of a point about learning to control anger by using it.  All-in-all, though, I think she's only about half-right. ^_^;  The parts about using it solely in violence... yeah

I see Steven’s eating fish, again. =3

It’s also neat to see him chopping wood with his hands. X3

...Not to mention Jasper’s new helmet. 83

It looks to me like Pink might have noticed some training, or at least may have been looking around the area.

...I suspect that she doesn't know about all the details, though. ^_^;

Homeworld Bound

Okay, first off, I think that Garnet may have said the family thing for Future Vision reasons - probably related to what the Diamonds said, even if she doesn't know that.

And now that that's out of the way, I was really glad to see Spinel again. =3

It does seem a bit weird that she's around as tall as Steven when she was shorter than him in the movie.

And I'm pretty sure that Steven's gotten even taller since the movie. XD;  Though maybe Yellow made Spinel taller...?

EDIT: I remembered that she probably wouldn’t be the first.  Could be a pattern.

Anyway, I also like the confirmation that Yellow's and Blue's powers seem to be about affecting the forms of Gems, and their emotions, in general - I've made a little spreadsheet (vaguely) touching on stuff like that, before.

Also, Blue getting a full song of her own.  Plus, the implications that Blue's powers are probably water-related. =3

(Who wants to try one of Blue's happy clouds? *raises hand* =D)

Not to mention Spinel doing the hammock hair thing. X3

*ahem* However... this is the second time one of the eps has felt like it's been full of Gems that are more-or-less hypnotised (the first one being Familiar).  A little too happy and/or nonchalant, and a little too conclusion-jump-ish. =/  (Especially Yellow for that last one. XD; )  Steven's even pointed stuff like this this out.

Which... White acted also that way.  If she really does have mind control powers, I think that this might be a sign that she's still using them, even on Blue and Yellow. ^_^;

Another thing that I think is odd is that the Diamonds were all taking initiative in doing good stuff.  In the movie, it seemed pretty clearly like they were only doing good things in order to try and please Steven and get him to stay with them.

White in particular was still disgusted at the idea of thinking of others as “equal.” XD;

They were even willing to move to Earth, leaving all those hurt Gems behind, instead of trying to do anything for them. =/

And yet, despite all that, Spinel in particular felt a little too weird to me (somehow XD; ).  A little too unconcerned about Steven's feelings, a little too relaxed and... blissful? ^_^;  She actually handwaved the "embarrassing" issue of having tried to kill Steven.

This is the second time we've seen something like this. =/

In a way, maybe Spinel's a little too close to her original personality, in general - as in, maybe less "healed" and more "reverted." =/

I mean, it's only been... a few months?  If I understand correctly?  Difficult thoughts and such do not just evaporate like that - ESPECIALLY if they're more-or-less intrusive ones. =/

And a lot of the time, it seems like her voice and intonation is closer to what she had with her original personality.  ...It does seem kind ambiguous, though I suspect that that’s on purpose. XD;

Here's what I think to be the kicker, though: you know the song she started singing when Steven asked how she stopped having vengeful thoughts?

It's the same song that Spinel said had said would NOT make everything better. XD;

"Just can it, won't ya?!  You can't just make everything better by singing some STUPID SONG!" - Spinel, SU Movie

(Incidentally, I noticed that the moon actually did show up - rather obviously - during said song.  Whoops. ^_^;  It looks like Pink has probably seen Spinel’s “evil” form, after all.)

Also... Quite honestly, the way Spinel mentions not getting vengeful thoughts anymore makes her seem... "drugged" to me. ^_^;

Possibly-similarly... this line seems odd to me.

For Spinel to tell Steven that White's powers work in reverse, she'd have to know:

How White's powers worked in the first place

That Steven knows how White's powers worked in the first place

I mean, I guess it's not impossible that White's powers are/were common knowledge, but... I dunno. XD;  It would have to mean letting Gems know that White could control them outright... and that White had used her powers on Steven's friends. ^_^;  I guess it's also possible that this was told to Spinel as a way of trying to bond over/help with the "tried to kill Steven" thing but... yeah, again, I dunno. ^_^;  If that were the case, it's possible that Spinel would mention it, rather than bursting out into song.

At any rate, I'm not ruling out mind-affecting as a possible reason for her knowledge.

So... yeah.  I suspected that White acted the way she did when seeing Spinel because Spinel knew (or otherwise had) something that White wanted to be kept hidden.  I kind of suspected that poor Spinel would get hit by White's powers pretty much right away, and to me, it looks like she did, and was placated a la mind-control. =(

Speaking of White... I'm guessing that the "pink-colored White" in the intro was actually Steven controlling her, or something. ^_^;

If so, then that's interesting twist on what's considered a "danger"...

...though that said, it looks like White managed to shed the pinkish tinge she had in the movie.

Now it seems to depend on the lighting, and is a fair bit fainter.

(Upper pic: purple.  Lower pic: brown.)

So... that said, I wouldn't rule out that maybe she found a way to keep the pink from getting worse - heck, maybe that's even one of the reasons why she's letting Gems control her, briefly.  Maybe it somehow keeps the pink from growing more saturated, or something.

So... yeah, while I think there's a good chance that the foreshadowed "Pink White" is already touched on, I'm not entirely ruling out that it might still be coming.  I mean, the theory that I was going with was that [Rose's gemstone had a virus in it], that Pink made specifically for White.  Possible circumstances to trigger the virus include:

Removing Rose's gemstone from whoever Rose’s child would be

Touching Rose's gemstone, in general

Trying to remove Rose from her gemstone - especially if from her child

Mind- and memory-manipulation on Rose's gemstone, in general

It's also possible that more than one trigger was programmed in.

Possible reasons for a virus include:

Trying to force White to learn empathy

Exposing White

In case the worst more-or-less happened

Prankage

Though yeah, if Rose's/Steven's gemstone really does have a virus in it, or something, I think odds are that White letting Steven control her is going to accelerate it. XD;

Also thought I'd note: while Spinel!White accurately reflects the colors of Spinel, Steven!White seems to better resemble Pink Steven than Pink Diamond, or Rose.

...Don't wanna dig up comparison pics, but I still thought I'd bring it up. XD;

Anyway, I can't help but wonder if there's some sort of deeper meaning to the scene with giant!Steven controlling little!White - like if there's something from Pink slipping in there, and her frustrations with whatever White did to her in the past.

I mean... Steven mentioned "everything" she did to him, and there were only flashbacks of stuff from Change Your Mind.  Which... yeah, sure, a lot happened in a short period of time, but... I still wonder. ^_^;

Aaaand it's becoming pretty evident that whatever traces of Pink are in Steven are coming out pretty strongly.

...On another note, the softer "Pink" hairstyle that Steven is getting might be a hint that the more-solid, five-lump "Steven" style that Pink is sometimes shown with is not her actual style. ;3

(My personal belief is that her appearance in Jungle Moon accurately reflects what she looks like - everything else is probably tainted by memory-alteration a la White.)

...anyway...

My guess(es) on what's next

Okay, I was previously assuming that Steven would first fight the worm-thing (which I thought might have been a mutated Jasper, after getting all that essence-of-Diamond in one dose XD; ).  I was also speculating about White having turned a much-more-intense shade of pink, accusing Steven of it, and a fight breaking out between the two (with a note that it might be a good thing that Steven's learned to better control his Diamond powers =D; ).

Now it’s looking like the “Pink White” may have already been covered... or maybe it’s still being foreshadowed.  Hard to say at this point.

That said, I think there's still a good chance that White will still try to follow Steven for one reason or another, despite his plea not to.  I mean, it looks like she may have genuinely been impacted by what happened with Steven controlling her... or at least terrified. XD;

She still asked him to wait, despite that.

Steven did leave his shoe behind, a la Cinderella.  This could be a hint about someone following him and returning it to him.  Maybe there'll be something about it fitting after he's calmed down? =3

Though... yeah.  Maybe letting Steven puppet her will result in her turning pink and coming after him for it.  Or maybe White will still try to follow out of more a compassionate reason - or just to “fix him, like she’s apparently done with so many other Gems XD - and Steven will try to keep her away.

In any case, I’m thinking that odds are that Steven will end up getting in a fight with What, and that it will end up being on Earth, at least at some point during the struggle.  If so, I tend to imagine something like this happening:

If Pink observes a fight between the two, it might be enough for the moon + sky thing to trigger in broad daylight.  If so, then the fact that there's someone on the moon who can turn the sky pink will be impossible to miss. XD  Even if it's not a fight that does it, I think odds are good that something like that will be how Pink being up there would be revealed, as well as working as a quick explanation that the moon + sky color are actually important.

If something like that does happen, then I think that White will finally fess up about messing with Gems' memories + thoughts and imprisoning Pink in the orb.  I mean... she'd basically be backed into a corner.  It also seems like she's getting to a point where she'd consider telling Steven anyway - just maybe she'd freak out and back out first, and/or the sky would beat her to it. XD;

I've also considered that maybe Steven's powers would get strong enough that he could be contacted by Pink in his dreams, anyway - they're not mutually-exclusive, so maybe both will happen?

But yeah.  There's plenty of evidence of a moon prisoner, and plenty of that evidence highly suggests that it's Pink.  I know I always say this, but I think it's time - maybe even well-past-time XD; - for Pink to be released.

A few possible roles of Pink (plus rambles)

Think about it: just about everyone that Steven knows - or is close to, at least - has been failing him in one way or another.  No one seems to know what's the best way to help him, or even fully understand just what exactly he might be going through - even White said that no one would be able to relate to him... but I don't think that's fully true.

Sure, maybe nobody could easily, and/or fully relate to the half-human thing, but I think there's a chance that, say, Lapis, Peridot and Bismuth could at least help with the "vengeful thoughts" thing.

But Pink, Pink could probably help with the powers, and maybe a few other things.  I mean, they're probably her powers - or at least a variation of them.  Heck, she may be even more powerful than Steven is. XD  If anyone could help Steven get things under control, Pink can.

Heck, maybe Pink even knows how to help calm down somebody who’s having a panic attack - or at least knows how to help Steven with his panic.  Given that nobody else seems to know about this, it seems pretty likely that it might be what Crewniverse is going for. =3  And hey... if nothing else, maybe it’s something she picked up just from watching the Earth for so long.  (I mean... if she’s really been stuck for 5,000 years, odds are that she’s picked up on a few things.  Not like she’d have an awful lot else to do, anyway. XD; )

I admit... it’d be a little extra cool to me since I’ve had the idea that it might be something that Pink would do. 83  Sort of a headcanon/fanfic idea that I never really got to or anything. XD;

But yeah, at this point, I think odds are good that Steven will more-or-less beg Pink to stay with him for awhile. XD

I mean... maybe they could ask Pink Pearl (I really don't like the name "Volleyball," sorry XD; ) about Steven’s powers, but I think she might still have too much trauma of her own over Pink's powers to really be able to help. ^_^;

...Though that said, I've suspected that White placated her, too.  If her traumas can still show through... I think odds are good that others' traumas will end up resurfacing - and thus being addressed - too. =3

...But yeah, it seems like White's MO involved making everyone just forget about things, and/or suddenly become happy. ^_^;  ...Another form of emotional neglect, I suppose.

I also it's possible that part of the reason why Steven is having trouble is because White did something to him. =/  I mean, if White really did remove whatever was left of Rose, then she may have removed an important part of Steven... and if she added something to him, it might be a big part of why he's so... unstable. -.-;

...Heck, maybe the reason why Steven's been getting white Diamond-pupils is because White did something to him. o.O  Maybe that why Steven!White has them, too, despite Spinel!White having black pupils.

At any rate, maybe the real Pink could shed some light on that, too.  ...And/or maybe White will fess up. XD;  I think the latter is much, much more likely in this case, though.

I do think that, once Pink is released, it's likely to result in a lot of chaos, on account of Gems learning that things aren't how they thought they were - just one of many reasons why I think that White has still left her in there. ^_^;  However, that said, maybe Pink could end up being a catalyst in bringing those problems to the surface, so that they can be addressed. XD;

But yeah.  Overall, I think one of her roles would be in healing... just like with Rose, Steven, and their powers.  I think she'd also be good for helping uncover the truth of what really happened, along with other things.

Could be ironic; it's Steven Universe: Future, but there might end up being a lot of looking at the past.  Granted, maybe that's the point: look to the past to better understand the future. =3

[danfanciesphil]

Some Kind Of Folliful (New Chapter)

Edgelord!Dan x ObliviousBisexual!Phil AU [CHAPTER EIGHT] (based off the 80′s classic Some Kind of Wonderful)

Synopsis: Dan has one friend, and only because he was forced into it. Phil is loud, excitable, and irritatingly happy all of the time. Phil seems to find Dan’s perpetual attitude funny, and despite Dan’s best efforts to shun him and everyone else, wants to be around him all the time. That is, until Phil starts talking about Amanda Jones. Word Count: WIP (Estimated 12-15 chapters) updates every Tuesday Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smoking, swearing, implied prostitution, broken home, class divide/classism, pining, light homophobia, sex

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[Ao3!]

The school parking lot is rammed with limousines and Rolls Royce’s. Dan idles the car in a queue for about ten minutes waiting for one particularly obnoxious pink limo to do a seventy-point turn in an attempt to get out of the exit again. Amanda coos over the colour of the awful car, nose pressed almost to the glass, and Phil gently teases her for being a stereotype.

She rolls her eyes and swats him in the shoulder. “Girls are allowed to like pink.”

Phil laughs and pokes her in the side, making her smile. Dan watches the fond exchange in the rearview mirror, lips pressed together. Eventually, he finds a parking space, though it’s a tight squeeze between the hundreds of cars that have shown up here tonight. He switches off the engine, blank eyes staring out of the windscreen at the building in front of him. They’re about half an hour late, so the parking lot is pretty much deserted – everyone is already inside. The back door of the car opens, and Amanda begins climbing out, complaining and laughing at once about how difficult it is to elegantly clamber out of a car in a big dress and heels. Dan’s fingertips tingle. He’s already mentally projecting to the next available smoking opportunity.

Phil leans forwards then, his chin resting on the back of Dan’s seat. “You’re gonna come in, right?”

Dan is silent for a moment. “Actually, I was thinking I might wait out here.”

“Please come in,” Phil says. “I don’t want to go to Prom without my best friend.”

Venom sears Dan’s throat, he swallows it down but it stings. “Is that what we are?”

Their eyes meet in the mirror, and Phil looks desperate, as though he’s begging Dan not to push it. Luckily for him, Amanda knocks on the glass of the back window, making a face that says ‘what’s the hold up?’.

Phil gives him one last pleading look, and Dan’s resolve breaks. Reluctantly, he sighs, and unplugs his seatbelt.

Prom is everything Dan expected, and worse. The hall is crammed with his peers, each of them decked out in a taffeta frock, or a cheap rented suit – with the exception of the Elites, of course, all of whom wear tight designer dresses, or tailored tuxedos.

The Elites have commandeered a table near the back, and are lounging around it holding plastic stem glasses of what appears to be punch, but Dan suspects is not. There’s a stage in the hall, on which a marginally terrible band is playing a mashup of chart hits, the majority of which Dan only knows because Louise forces him to have Radio One playing in the café at all hours.

There are paper chains, and a glitterball, and crêpe-papered tables holding punch bowls and bowls of crisps. It’s the kind of Prom that Dan has seen in a dozen American high school movies, which isn’t that surprising, as the Prom-planning committee’s inspiration was Pretty In Pink.

Everyone’s attention is stolen by the entrance of Phil with Amanda Jones on his arm. Hardy, over at the Elite table, glares across the room at them, sour-faced. He’s wearing a white tuxedo, as if he could get any more douchey, and seems to have brought a different Elite girl as his date, though he doesn’t appear to be paying too much attention to her.

Dan can’t imagine that Amanda would be welcomed if she tried to go over to her usual possy, but she doesn’t so much as look their direction. Phil, looking slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of near everyone in the room, leads Amanda through the crowd towards the punch table. Dan follows solemnly behind them; distracted as they are by the scandalous date of the century, nobody pays him any attention at all.

*

“This punch tastes like ass,” Dan says, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, they made me use Diet lemonade,” Lee says. “It’s gross.”

If Dan asked Lee why he’d chosen to volunteer at the Sixth Form Prom, doling out ladlefuls of disgusting punch to a load of teenagers that are sneaking vodka into it anyway, he’d probably say that he had nothing better to do with his Friday night, or that he came to watch everyone be ‘tragic’. In reality, he is almost definitely here to hang around Dan. In another timeline, Dan might find this annoying, but tonight he’s glad of the company.

The punch table is on the periphery of the dancefloor; in the centre, a few brave couples have already started vaguely swaying together to the cacophony of noise the band is making. One of those couples are Phil and Amanda.

Dan would have put good money on the fact that Phil cannot dance, and he’d have won the bet. Phil is tall, and clumsy, with two left feet and a tendency to not know where to place his hands. Amanda seems to find this utter incompetence on his part incredibly endearing, and keeps laughing every time Phil steps on her pointed shoes.

The moment they began, she picked up Phil’s hands and placed them straight on her hips, then slung hers around his neck, just as Dan said she would. They’re awkward, and due to their height difference the movements are far from graceful, but they’re having fun, apparently, if their laughter is anything to go by.

“Got a cold?” Lee asks, handing Dan a napkin.

Dan sniffs for the hundredth time, shrugging, and takes it from him. “Can we get out of here? Go for a smoke or something?”

“I got something even better,” Lee says with a grin.

He reaches discreetly into the pocket of his sweatpants, and exposes the tip of a flask. He tucks it away quickly before any of the patrolling teachers notice.

“You make yourself useful, I’ll give you that,” Dan says, then inclines his head, and starts to make his way over to the hall doors.

*

“Geez, that’s a bit full on,” Lee says, staring into Amanda’s painted face. The canvas is bigger than Dan remembers it being. “What’s he planning on doing with it?”

“He’s gonna gift it to her, apparently,” Dan replies. 

He’s already taken the flask from Lee, and is sipping it quietly, perched up on a desk. Phil’s left a few paintbrushes and dried up palettes scattered about the place, but the usual vibrancy he brings to the art studio is missing. Now, the room seems bereft, dark.

“Weird,” Lee says, leaning close to peer into Amanda’s vacant brown eyes.

Dan takes another sip of what tastes vaguely like whiskey, but is probably more likely to be a mixture of a few spirits Lee swiped from his parents’ liquor cabinet in order to avoid being caught.

“I want a cigarette. Let’s sit behind here,” Dan says, walking around to the back of a big stack of blank canvases, propped against a desk. In the tight space behind them, he and Lee will be impossible to see from the door if a teacher comes snooping. Lee follows him obediently, squatting down in the small nook. Dan offers him the flask while he digs around for his pack of cigarettes, but Lee refuses.

“You look like you need it more, mate.”

Dan wants to call him out on this statement, argue and demand he explain himself, but he thinks better of it. So what if his misery is written all over his face? Lee is too up his ass to do anything with the information that Dan might be crushing on Phil, if he has indeed picked up on it. Dan puts the flask between his knees and pulls two cigarettes out of his rapidly depleting pack of Djarums.

“Here,” Dan says, not giving Lee a chance to refuse. He hands one of the cigarettes over, and pulls out a lighter. The first drag is glorious. A thick rush of nicotine sluices through Dan from head to fingertips. Lee lights his up after a moment, too, then promptly splutters, grimacing.

He puts it straight out again. “Eugh, what the fuck’s that? All perfumey.”

Dan snorts with laughter, about to explain that they’re flavoured, but right then, voices permeate the quiet air, right outside the door. Dan looks forlornly at his cigarette, which he’s only just begun. He takes another deep drag, then one more, breathing it out in a long rush just as the door opens. Then he stubs it out on the tiled floor.

“…you think you could do a better job of it?”

Dan’s heart plummets straight through his ribcage, landing on the floor with a pathetic ‘plop’. He imagines he can see it pulsating weakly on the tile beside his the ashes of his cigarette. It’s Amanda’s voice. Which means…

“Hey, maybe that’s my calling,” Phil says. “I could be the next big thing in the cover band world.”

“I do agree that you couldn’t be any worse than that lot,” Amanda agrees. “But I guess we can’t be too critical- what the… oh my God.”

Her voice falls away, leaving only the stagnant silence of this room in its wake. A few seconds pass, and then there’s the sound of her kitten heels tritting slowly across the floor. She’s approaching the canvas, on the other side of where Dan and Lee hide. The door closes, and Dan hears Phil moving cautiously further into the studio.

“It’s difficult to capture you,” Phil says; Dan can feel the nerves in his best friend’s voice. “I wanted to do something big, but there’s so much about you I didn’t manage to get right-”

“Phil,” Amanda interrupts. Her voice is choked. Dan swallows down a gulp of tobacco flavoured saliva. “I’ve never seen anything like this. You painted this? By hand?”

“Yeah,” Phil says. “For you.”

“I don’t understand,” Amanda says; yep, she’s definitely choking back tears. Desperate to escape, Dan looks around himself for a possible exit, but without Amanda and Phil seeing him, there’s no choice but to just sit here and listen. He brings his knuckles up to bite at them. “Why would you do this for me?”

“There’s more,” Phil says, and oh God, Dan had almost forgotten.

Eyes smarting, Dan hears the rustle of Phil digging around in his suit pocket. Phil steps forward, closing the gap between he and the girl of his dreams. A moment passes, and then she gasps.

“Oh my God, Phil I can’t… you shouldn’t have-”

“Just let me explain,” Phil says. Amanda stays quiet. “I know you spend every day wishing you were born differently, watching your friends glide through life with ease just because they have money. I know it makes you feel inferior to them. It shouldn’t, because you’re perfect. That’s why I wanted to paint you, to show you that to me, at least, you’re flawless.”

Dan shifts quietly. The floor is hardening beneath him, making it impossible to stay still. He catches Lee watching him, fingers covering his mouth in an attempt to stay quiet. It doesn’t matter, he wants to shout at Lee, they’d never notice us. Even if we screamed.

Dan wants to put his fingers in his ears to block it out, but Lee might ask him why later, and Dan can’t handle it. So he just grits his teeth and tells himself it won’t last forever, and that later he can deal with the pain. He remembers, belatedly, the flask laying in his lap, so unscrews the cap and pours a great deal of whatever is inside into his mouth. It tastes disgusting, but then he has another swig, and it goes down a little easier.

“I bought you these because you deserve them,” Phil tells Amanda then, and Dan knows he must be handing her the earrings. Those beautiful black pearls on silver stems. “I want you to feel like you ought to feel. I want you to feel as precious as I see you every day.”

“It’s too much,” Amanda says, weakly. “I can’t accept them.”

“Please take them,” Phil says. “I want to show you what you’re worth.”

A quiet falls, and all Dan can hear is vague rustling. Lee is staring at him now, his eyes feel like they’re boring into his skull. It might be something to do with the tear that’s just fallen down Dan’s cheek.

“How do they look?” Amanda says after a while.

To Dan’s surprise, Phil doesn’t respond straight away. Dan kind of wants to peer his head over the canvases and see for himself. Maybe they really do look hideous on her; Dan had always thought they weren’t really her usual style.

“Yeah,” Phil says then, though his voice is not at all convincing. “Really nice.”

Tip-tap go Amanda’s shoes as she closes the distance between them. Dan can’t help it, he shifts again, bum numbed by the horrible hard tile. As he moves, he realises there’s a slit between two canvases, allowing him just enough space to see through if he leans awkwardly. In the tiny gap, he watches, heart tearing itself down the middle, as Amanda’s hand rests on Phil’s chin, and she tiptoes up to press a kiss to his lips.

At this point, the tears are too insistent to try and hold back. Lee can think what he wants. Dan sips more of the flask, and sinks back to his former position, hating himself for torturing his own heart this way.

“Can you smell cherry?” Amanda asks then, and Dan freezes. He turns to Lee, wide-eyed.

Like they’re connected, Dan can feel it in his chest as the realisation floods over Phil. He hears the guilt in his silence, and aches from it. Phil will sweep his gaze over the room, will note the strange wall of canvases and know at once what they hide. He will know, of course he will know, and now he will pretend he doesn’t.

“N-no,” Phil says, just like Dan knew he would. There’s a slit in his voice, like it’s about to crack, to splinter into bits. “I can’t smell anything. Come on, let’s go back to the dance.”

*

“Dan,” Lee says for maybe the fifth time. “Dan, are you alright?”

The jumble of art supplies in front of Dan seems to be moving. The supplies swirl about randomly, paint brushes blending into charcoals, oil pastels bleeding into one another, creating a brown sludge.

“ ‘m fine,” Dan gets out. He tries to drain the last of the flask, but finds that it’s somehow already empty. He turns to Lee, eyes blurred from the film of moisture gathered in his ducts. “Hey,” he slurs, pushing the empty flask at him. “You’re sober, right?”

Warily, Lee nods.

Dan digs in his trouser pocket for Ricky’s car keys. “I need a favour.”

*

The bright lights and jarring, staticky noise coming from the ancient speakers is a lot worse now that Dan’s mind is thickened with alcohol. He pushes through seemingly hoards of people, some of whom grunt and shout things at him, indignant. These people, his classmates, seem alien to him, their faces unrecognisable, distorted and strange.

He’s trying to find the exit, but ends up at the back of the room somehow, with all the tables. Amanda and Phil are sat at one, just the two of them, sharing a glass of punch, their cheeks rosy with happiness. Amanda’s earlobes are glistening with two black pearls.

Just as a wash of bile crawls up Dan’s throat, something happens. It shatters the warping, undulating bubble of Dan’s drunken state, and everything clatters into clarity just as Hardy Jenns’ fist slams down in front of Phil, shaking the table. Phil leaps to his feet, stricken, and Hardy starts to yell.

“...showing up here with my girl on your arm! Who the fuck d’you think you are, you little shitbox, I’m gonna punch your lights out!”

Dan watches in alarm, a tiny ‘no’ slipping from his lips. He surges forwards, straight through a gaggle of girls on the periphery of the dance floor, and lunges. Hardy’s fist draws back, his teeth bared into a snarl as he pulls his weight into the incoming punch. He swings, fast, but Dan is faster. Phil falls to the floor with how hard Dan barrels into him, but it doesn’t matter, because Hardy’s fist misses him by centimetres, and connects with the bone of Dan’s right cheek instead. It makes a dull ‘thwack’, and Dan is thrown backwards by the force of it.

The alcohol numbs the pain, but it throbs unbearably even so. He straightens up, clutching his face and swearing loudly. Phil, on the floor still, has his mouth open in shock.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, not you again,” Hardy growls. There’s a slur to his voice too; Dan clearly isn’t the only one imbibing this evening. “Thought I told you to tell your boyfriend to leave my girl alone!” 

Dan jabs a finger at Hardy, breathing hard through the pain. “Get away from him, Hardy.” 

The corner of Hardy’s mouth curls into a nasty sneer. “Or what?” 

For a moment, Dan just glares at him. He notices Phil struggling to sit up in the periphery of his vision, and is momentarily distracted. He turns, noting the terror on Phil’s face. 

“Dan, just leave it,” Phil garbles, urgently. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” 

“Yeah, whore,” Hardy says, drawing Dan’s attention again. He’s still got that smug, shit-eating smirk on his face. Dan’s fist begins to curl. Oh, he’s been aching for a release, and this is all too perfectly set up to resist. “Why don’t you leave it? Go back to whatever back room you crawled out of, wait for the next John to pull down his fly for you.” 

“Dan,” Phil says, from somewhere seemingly far away. “Dan, ignore him.” 

Drunkenly, Dan turns to Phil for a split second. He shoots him a stupid grin, allowing the rush of white heat and anger to flood him, and then lunges forwards, his own fist connecting with Hardy’s jaw.

“Dan!” Phil calls out. The concern in his voice is blissful. It slips into Dan’s bloodstream, giving him the energy to land a second punch on Hardy’s stupid forehead. This time, it knocks him backwards, and he crashes onto the table behind him. 

“Dan, stop!” Phil’s voice is shrill.

“Get the fuck off me you little cunt,” Hardy shouts, as Dan grabs him by the lapels of his idiotic white suit, slamming him down against the table he’s sprawled on, so the back of his skull thunks against it. Amanda is still sitting down, watching with wide-eyes; Dan doesn’t spare her a glance. He’s seething, livid, and Hardy’s stupid, ignorant face suddenly represents every reason why. 

Dan knows he doesn’t look like he could lift a fruitfly, but he’s had to toughen up, living where he does. He’s stronger than anyone he knows his age, which people don’t expect. By the look on Hardy’s face, he’s no exception. Dan slaps Hardy sharp across the cheek, hard enough to leave a red mark come morning. They’ve gathered a crowd now, so it won’t be long until a teacher notices and comes over to break them up. So, Dan brings his face close to Hardy’s, close enough that the dickhead should be able to smell the nicotine on his breath.

“Amanda is not your girl,” Dan hisses. “She can do whatever she wants. And mercifully, that’s not you anymore.”

“Get off me!” There’s something urgent and worried in Hardy’s tone. Dan’s half on top of him now, and it seems to be making Hardy even more furious. Dan’s having to exert a lot of energy just pinning him here. “Get the fuck off me you fag fuck!” 

And then, it all becomes painfully clear. 

The anger recedes a little as Dan’s knee comes into contact with a rather obvious bulge. His eyebrows lift, and Hardy’s terror is palpable. Dan sends him a little ‘gotcha’ smile. 

He leans forwards, feeling Hardy go limp, sensing the defeat. “Don’t think you and I will be having a problem anymore, do you?”

Hardy doesn’t respond at first, so Dan pushes his knee sharply into Hardy’s crotch, and he shakes his head quickly. “Please move,” Hardy begs. “I’ll back off, I swear. Just don’t say anything.” 

“Swear to me you’ll leave him alone,” Dan says, knee still jammed up against Hardy’s erection. 

“I swear, fuck.” 

“And Amanda.”

“Fine, fine,” Hardy says hurriedly. 

“If you tell your Dad, and get me fired,” Dan says. “I will tell everyone about what I felt here tonight.” 

Hardy nods inn understanding, cheeks aflame. Dan releases him then, and wipes his hands on his shirt in disgust. Hardy doesn’t move for a minute. There’s a wide, stunned look in his eyes, as though he’s not sure of his next move. He casts a quick, frightened gaze around the room, meeting the eyes of every onlooker, and then jumps up, fleeing to the hall doors.

Bizarrely, just as Dan turns to go, it’s Amanda’s gaze that he catches. She’s staring at him wonderingly, calmly, despite having seen him beat up and threaten her ex moments ago. In her right thumb and forefinger, she twiddles one of her earrings. Dan turns from her then, nauseated, eye and cheek throbbing, and pushes back into the crowd. He can see the glowing exit sign now, and the crowds seem all too happy to part as he moves towards it. He doesn’t care about these people anymore, nor did he ever. So they’ve finally seen just what happens when somebody pisses off the scary emo kid just a little too much. Let them be scared of him. Maybe it’ll make them leave him alone.

He’s almost at the door, almost free from this horrendous night, when something catches his arm. When Dan turns to see who is stopping him, he has to stop himself from throwing more punches.

“Where are you going?” Phil asks; his eyes are red. Dan tastes blood. “You’re hurt.”

Dan licks the corner of his mouth. His lip ring is missing, and there’s blood pooled there. It must have ripped out during the fight. He wipes the blood with the back of his hand, hardly caring.

“I’m goin’ home,” Dan says, dejected. The alcohol in his system has swooped back into play, and he feels drunk again, the adrenaline of the pain and violence gone. “I’ve given Lee th’keys t’Ricky’s car. He agreed to drive you and Amanda back.”

“Don’t go,” Phil begs him. He seems desperate, and Dan cannot fathom why. “Please, just stay for a while, we can talk, I can get you some ice-”

Dan pulls free of Phil’s grip, annoyed. “If y’wanted t’talk t’me, y’could’ve this morning. Now’m tired, and drunk, and’m leaving.”

“Why did you let Hardy punch you?” Phil’s blue eyes are deep and watery. Dan could throw anchors into them, made of longing, and hurt, and misery, but they’d never reach the bottoms - they’re too deep. “Why did you push me out of the way?”

The question, to Dan, is absurd. “B’cause he was going to hurt you.”

“So?”

“So,” Dan whispers. He tastes blood again. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re the only thing that matters.”

“You matter,” Phil whispers back. “You matter to me.”

Dan snorts in derision, not bothering to reply. Instead, he turns away, and pushes through the fire exit, out into the cold night beyond

*

The vodka in Dan’s blood is making the dense, humid air shimmer. He’s wrapped in someone’s arms, grinding on someone’s thigh. There’s a sultry, pulsating beat all around him. He thinks maybe, before, there was a finger in his mouth, a small blue pill pressed onto his tongue. Dark grey eyes are locked on his, and as they move to the music, Dan can feel warmth, sweat, hands on his hips.

He wishes he were in bed, not here, with the covers pulled over him, and a pillow to softly soak up the tears. But going home would mean facing Ricky, and perhaps getting another punch thrown at him for kicks. Dan doesn’t even have his brother’s car anymore. Facing Ricky’s wrath without it would be suicidal. The right side of his face throbs and aches. It’s bruised badly, Dan saw it in Ozone’s cracked bathroom mirror. His eye is swollen, making it hard to see.

“What’s it gonna cost me to take you home?” A rough, gravelly voice says into Dan’s ear.

It’s a little surprising Dan is able to pull anyone in the state he’s in. Damaged goods are apparently not a dealbreaker for the dudes in here. A rush of something blissful and heady threads itself through Dan’s body, making him wonder what exactly it was that he swallowed half an hour ago, compressed into that tiny pill. He welcomes the rush of pleasure even so, closing his aching eyes as he allows the drug to sweep away the pain.

He leans forwards, lips to the guy’s ear, and says: “What’ve you got?”

(Chapter Nine!)

[purrincess-chat]

All’s Fair in Love and Superheroes CH 3

At long last it is here! It took me all day to type up what I had for this cause I was feeling really demotivated, but it’s here now! This chapter corresponds to Day 6 of Ladrien June which was Andre’s Ice Cream requested by @yoyos-on-the-wharf, so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long >,>

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

Marinette stood before her mirror, smoothing her dress with a nervous wince. She was due to meet Adrien in just 20 short minutes, and her anxiety was off the charts. What if she spilled her drink on him? Or said something too personal that gave away her secret identity? Why didn’t she just cancel it?

“Your dress turned out nice after all the last minute alterations you made,” Tikki remarked, swirling around to give her a once over.

“Yeah…” Marinette pursed her lips.

“What’s the matter?” Tikki tilted her head to the side.

“I just- Everything Alya and I planned, all of our talking points for the date, my outfit, the meeting place, the date itself are all useless now. I’m completely flying blind, and I’m worried that everything is going to go horribly wrong,” She said, pressing the tips of her fingers together.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Marinette. You worry too much,” Tikki assured her. “Just be yourself, well, not too yourself, but you know what I mean.”

“Don’t worry, Tikki. I’d never intentionally reveal my identity. I’ll just have to stay focused,” She said with a determined smile, giving herself one last look in the mirror before pulling on her coat to conceal her dress and heading downstairs.

“Going out?” Her mother asked as she descended.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go see a movie with some friends. I’ll be back tonight,” She said, holding her breath as her mom smiled.

“Alright, dear. Have fun!” Sabine waved, turning back to the dishes, and Marinette exhaled in relief before making her way out the front door.

Step one complete, now onto step two.

Once outside, she scanned the area, ensuring that the coast was clear before fastening on her mask for later and transforming. She took a deep breath before casually pacing across the street to wait. Given the short amount of time she had to make changes to her original date plans, she felt a little nervous about her idea but being Ladybug limited her options. They couldn’t go somewhere too public, or they’d risk being noticed. Attention was the last thing she wanted considering she wasn’t even sure this relationship was going to last the night. That thought made her heart sink a little, but she knew it wouldn’t really be the end of things with Adrien.

“Ladybug!” She turned to see his smiling face approaching from the subway, a bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“You’re early,” She remarked, cheeks flushing.

“So are you,” He shot back playfully, placing the bouquet in her hands. “I brought you these.”

“That’s so sweet,” She breathed, trailing her gloved fingers over the petals. “Um, thank you, Adrien.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you for inviting me tonight. I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a dream,” He said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re a dream,” She said softly, seeming to catch herself after a moment. “Uh, what I mean is, um, I’m happy to get to know you better. You seem really nice.”

He smiled at that, his warm gaze fixated on her, and she cleared her throat again. “So, I kind of set something up for us. You’re not afraid of heights are you?”

“No, I don’t mind them,” He said, shaking his head.

“Then just…hold on tight, okay?” She awkwardly hooked her arm around his waist, and he locked his around her shoulders. He was so close that she could feel his breath kissing her cheeks, and she felt it hitch as she tossed her yoyo and pulled them to their destination.

“Wow.” Adrien gaped as she strapped her yoyo back to her waist. “You set all of this up?”

Ladybug clasped her hands together in front of herself shyly, examining her afternoon’s hard work of rose petals, candles, and a small picnic set up. “I kind of stole the idea from Chat Noir. He’s better at all this romantic stuff than me, but I thought that maybe we’d have a bit more privacy up here.”

“He’s probably better than both of us. My heart’s going to beat out of my chest,” He admitted, and she felt her cheeks burn. She wasn’t used to seeing him so flustered, and she certainly wasn’t used to making him so flustered.

“Well, why don’t we sit down and relax? I brought us some snacks- I hope you’re hungry,” She gestured to the picnic blanket and took a seat across from him. “I hope you have a sweet tooth.”

Adrien perked up as she retrieved a box of macarons from the basket, and he tilted his head to the side to read the logo. “You like the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery too?”

“Oh- uh, yeah! I bought these from their bakery. They’re really delicious which is why I bought them,” She said stiffly, eyeing him cautiously to ensure he didn’t suspect anything from her mistake.

“Yeah, Marinette and her parents are awesome. Her dad has been to the school before to teach us how to make these,” Adrien remarked, taking a bite. “They’re some of the best macarons in Paris.”

“Thank you, Adrien,” She said sincerely, catching herself quickly and adding, “-For agreeing to come out with me tonight!”

“Thank you for inviting me,” He said, pausing slightly before continuing, “Though I do have one question…why me?”

“Oh, uh…” She stiffened, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I guess you have a point. We don’t really know each other outside of the few times I’ve saved you, and it’s not like I know you in real life, well, I mean, I know of you because you’re a famous model of course, but you see I-”

Adrien’s eyebrows raised slowly as she rambled, so she paused abruptly fishing for an excuse.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t actually mean to ask you out as Ladybug. I just got nervous, and one thing led to another and then…yeah.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and averted her gaze. “I kind of have a crush on you, and not just because you’re a model. I actually admire how kind and genuine you are, and I just wanted a chance to get to know you better, and I had hoped that you could get to know me. The real me.”

Adrien stared at her in stunned shock before blinking and leaning forward to place his hands over hers.

“I have a crush on you too!” He blurted. “Well, I have a crush on Ladybug. I don’t know who you really are, but I’m sure you’re the same girl under the mask too, and I’d love to get to know her better!”

Ladybug held his gaze for a long moment before taking a deep breath. “Close your eyes.”

Adrien blinked a couple times in confusion before doing as he was told. Ladybug gave Tikki the command and let her transformation fall, ensuring that her mask was firmly in place before turning back to him.

“Okay, you can open them.”

He peeked one eye open then the other, jaw dropping as he took in her red dress and costume mask. “Wow.”

“I, um, I thought that maybe this way you could see that there is someone under the mask and that if you’re with me, you’re not just dating a superhero,” She explained, picking at her skirt.

“I’m sure you’re every bit as amazing under the mask. After all, everything Ladybug does, fighting villains, coming up with clever solutions, helping others, that’s all you,” He said with a reassuring smile. “Although, I-I kind of hope that maybe you can do the same for me. I’m not just Adrien Agreste, teen model. Sometimes I’m just Adrien, guy who likes video games and hanging out with his friends.”

“He sounds like someone worth knowing.” Ladybug smiled at him, bringing a flush to both of their cheeks.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze to hide his blush, spotting Andre setting up his ice cream stand on the next block. His heart lurched in his chest at the thought, and he didn’t want to suggest it, but Ladybug followed his gaze.

“Oh, it’s Andre!” She gasped, biting her lip a little as she turned back to him. “Would you like to get some ice cream? Uh, just to eat, I mean we don’t have to get one to share for that reason, unless you want to, I just, you seem interested that’s all.”

Adrien chuckled, cupping a hand over his mouth to stifle it. “I’d love to share Andre’s ice cream with you.”

“Okay, uh,” She glanced around frantically as if figuring out what to do before summoning her transformation again. “Hang on.”

She wrapped an arm around his waist once more before lowering them down to the ground with her yoyo and dropping her disguise again. She straightened up, smoothing her dress as her kwami ducked inside, and Adrien waited patiently, offering an arm and leading the way as soon as she was ready. Andre perked up when he saw them approaching.

“My, my, what a beautiful couple! It just melts my heart! I’ve got just the thing for you two,” He said, turning to his cart. “A sweet blueberry for her midnight hair, rich pistachio for his bright green stare, and last but surely not least, a hint of raspberry for their rosy cheeks.”

“Thank you, Andre.” Ladybug beamed, accepting the cone before they found a secluded bench nearby. She felt her heart skip as Adrien offered her a bite, and her mind ascended to cloud nine. Finally, she was getting to share ice cream with Adrien! As Ladybug, but still, it was a dream come true.

“Ahem.” They paused at Tikki’s small voice, and Ladybug peeked down at her pocket where her kwami peeked out hopefully.

“Oh, uh, Adrien, there’s someone you should meet,” She started, nodding for Tikki to reveal herself. “This is Tikki, she’s my kwami- uh, a magical being that grants my powers along with my earrings.”

“Wow, that’s so amazing!” He gaped.

“She has a bit of a sweet tooth,” Ladybug explained, giving Tikki a teasing look. “I’m gonna go get a scoop for her. I’ll be right back.”

They watched her go, and Adrien flicked his gaze back to Tikki. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes, but your identity must never be revealed to her.” She stated, turning away from him and folding her arms over her chest.

“Why? We both love each other,” He said pleadingly, but Tikki wouldn’t budge, so he sat back with a sigh. “Yeah, I know, and I won’t. She’s too important to me, and I know it’s not what she wants.”

He leaned against his fist, and Tikki spared him a glance before flitting over to pat his cheek sympathetically. “You two will defeat Hawkmoth someday. I know it.”

“Psst!” They flicked their gaze down to Adrien’s jacket where Plagg peeked out.

“Plagg! What if Ladybug sees you?” Tikki hissed.

“Relax, she’s still buying ice cream. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, sugarcube.” He winked, and Tikki rolled her eyes with a groan.

“Not long enough, stinky sock,” She said, placing her hands on her hips and turning away stubbornly.

“Oh, c’mon. You know you miss me,” He goaded, smugly.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the pranks you and Trixx played on me last time we were all together,” She said accusingly, leaning into his face.

“Lighten up, sugarcube, it was all in good fun.” He waved it away.

“Don’t call me that,” She ordered, pausing as Plagg reached out to peck her cheek before disappearing back inside, leaving Tikki fuming as Ladybug approached.

“You two seem…familiar,” Adrien said, and Tikki touched her cheek softly; Adrien couldn’t quite tell if she looked annoyed or strangely fond, and he decided on a mix between the two.

“I’m back!” Ladybug called, holding up a second cone. “I got chocolate because I know it’s your favorite.”

Tikki perked up as she set it on the bench, digging in without a second thought. Ladybug giggled a little before turning her attention back to Adrien.

“So you fence, but what are your other hobbies?” She asked, offering him a spoonful.

“Mmm,” He hummed as he swallowed. “I do a lot of things, I suppose. Basketball, soccer, lacrosse, karate. I take piano and Chinese lessons. I’m a model,” He gestured toward his latest advert. “But I’m sure you knew that.”

“Oh yes,” She sighed, shaking herself with a sheepish wince before adding, “Wow, you’re very busy, aren’t you?”

“I just kind of do most of them. Joining official teams forces my father to let me do something besides sit at home,” He said, pressing the spoon to her lips and shrugging. “I don’t hate them, but I don’t love them either. They just kind of pass the time.”

“There must be something that you enjoy.” Her eyebrows furrowed.

Adrien considered it a moment, pushing the ice cream around in his mouth with his tongue. “I like being around people. When you spend a lot of time alone, you really cherish the moments you spend with others.”

Ladybug felt her heart sink a little under his sad gaze. Sure, she knew that Adrien got kept home a lot, but she didn’t realize how lonely it must make him. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him.

“If you want…whenever your dad keeps you at home by yourself, I could come by sometimes,” She offered. “Our secret.”

Adrien’s face lit up at that, cheeks flushing as he took another spoonful. Ladybug in his room… now that was a fantasy he never thought would come true.

“I would love that!” He said eagerly, placing his hands over hers on the cone. “I want to spend more time with you, and not just going out on dates, but actually just hanging out.”

“Then it’s settled,” She said, offering him the last bite.

“But, wait, how will you know when to come?” He cocked a brow, and she tapped her chin in thought.

“I’ll think of something,” She said. “So, shall we take a walk along the Seine?”

They walked along in silence for a few minutes until their hands brushed, and Adrien summoned enough courage to twine their fingers. To his relief, she didn’t pull away but eagerly curled her fingers around his as they walked. He wasn’t sure how long they walked, but he didn’t care. The girl of his dreams was by his side, and no amount of time was too much for him. They talked about trivial things, favorite movies, opinions on reality shows - both thankfully immensely disinterested – as well as their hopes for the future.

It seemed that they had a lot in common, and Adrien hung onto every detail that she would give him. This is everything he’d wanted for so long, and now he finally knew more about Ladybug than just her powers and odd aversion to cat puns. Now he finally felt like he was getting to know and love the real Ladybug, and she was everything he could have asked for and more.

“I’m really happy that you invited me out tonight, even if it was an accident,” He said when they arrived back at his house. “I had an amazing time.”

“Me too, Adrien,” She said with a small smile, biting her lip. “It was nice getting to know the real you.”

They lingered there for a moment, too nervous to meet each other’s gaze, and looked around awkwardly before Ladybug took a step back and gestured over her shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” She cocked a brow, and he felt his stomach flip.

“Uh, yeah. Just come by any time. I’ll leave my window open,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his, he realized.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Um, good night, Adrien.”

“Good night.” He waved, wincing as she turned and headed up the sidewalk before holding out a hand to stop her. “Hey, Ladybug, wait!”

She stopped and turned back to face him curiously as he paced over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He flicked his gaze down to her lips, breathing accelerating as he looked up into her eyes once more as if asking for permission. She seemed to realize his intentions as she leaned forward, eyelids hooding as he stooped down to press his lips to hers. They were soft against his own, and he wasn’t sure if his feet were still touching the ground as his mind whirled out of control.

When they pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers, meeting her gaze warmly and caressing her cheek. Her breath hitched against his touch, and he bit back a smile.

“Come visit me soon.” He pleaded, taking a step back and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I will.” She nodded, swallowing hard.

“Good night, Ladybug,” He said softly, offering her his sincerest and most affectionate gaze.

“Good night, Adrien.”

[zendozebra]

All the Time in the World Chapter 16

Murata Ichigo was always told that he would serve the Time Stopper. That it was his birthright. A privilege. He was always told, “Obey his commands without question, and you will be rewarded.” He had seen his father commit terrible, horrible acts, senselessly. Torture for trivial amounts of information or money, and murder for even less. To Ichigo, the Time Stopper was an enigma; a man who created chaos for little to no reason, and didn’t even seem to care about it. He had always imagined a large, imposing man, that would take those who wronged him and turn them into twisted creations of flesh and blood. He was supposed to be a barbarian, a brute, one who had been allowed to live for over a hundred years while maintaining the prime of his youth, and would use that decades-old wisdom to torment those he despised. All he truly knew was that the man was meant to be feared and respected, and praised by both his father and Ichigo himself. So imagine Ichigo’s surprise when Time Enough was revealed to be a simple man, lean and muscular instead of large and towering with mass. He wasn’t even all that tall, either, just average height at most. He spoke oddly, like a man who cared too little and too much all at the same time, but his eyes were dull and dead. The eyes of someone who was bored. There were no light in his eyes, and they were often glazed over and unfocused. Ichigo’s father told him that their master was sick, that he’d lost what had given him his light. He’d gone to a bad place, and was trying and failing to bring himself back. He had been alone, all alone, for a long, long time. But Ichigo’s father was in no place to argue against the master’s wishes, for that was the vow he’d taken. Obey, and be rewarded. He was certainly rewarded, as Ichigo’s father had never once complained about money or food. Majima-sama had once asked for Ichigo to be brought to him, so there the boy kneels before the villain, barely 9 years old. His father stands to the side, nervously watching the master stare down the child. There were bottles upon bottles of liquor covering the floor, and the curtains were drawn shut, casting the room in a smothering layer of shadows. He held a cigarette between his fingers, and smoke curled through the air that surrounded him. The Time Stopper stood up, taking the pistol from the table beside him. He bent down in front of Ichigo, who looked up into the eyes of his so-called master. The words of his father echoed in his mind as the Time Stopper held the gun out to the boy. ‘Obey his commands without question, and you will be rewarded.’ Time Enough handed the boy the gun, and he gave his command. “Kill yourself.” So, without question, Ichigo placed the barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger. He was thrown to the ground as the bullet pierced the ceiling, and Time Enough’s laughter echoed throughout the room, loud and deep. The elder Murata sighed in relief, giving Ichigo a small smile and a proud nod. “Holy fuck kid, you’re the best.” The master managed to say through his howls of laughter, “People will- Oh god I’m crying- People will usually punk out, but no, man, if you’re a fucking true believer, and you fucking believe in Majima, you kill yourself with no hes-” At this point he devolved into a mess of giggles and tears. It took the man a good few minutes to calm down, but when he did, he looked at Ichigo with a soft smile. “You know, I like your moxie, kid. I think I’m gonna help you out a bit. Got any plans for the future, little guy?” “Only to follow the path you lay out for me, Majima-sama.” “Then use your fuckin’ imagination, kid. In a world where I didn’t exist, what would you like to do for a living?” Ichigo looked at his hands, glowing softly as fire licked the tips of his fingers. “My mother was an udon ch-” “Cooking school. Got it.” The master looked over at Ichigo’s father, “Send him off, Murata. I’ve got a few ideas for what he can do, but he’s gonna need his training first. Also…” He kneeled down in front of Ichigo, “I noticed that quirk of yours… I see a lot of potential. Keep training it, but don’t let anyone know the extent of your power. Always keep an ace up your sleeve.” The master looked away, turning back to his father to talk about plans, but Ichigo had seen it. A faint little twinkle of something in the man’s dark eyes. Maybe he would regain that light one day, but not for a long, long time.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Majima walked into the restaurant, a hostess catching sight of him and immediately sitting him down at a table near the back of house. She handed him the menu, and offered him some wine, but he waved her off, asking for some soda instead. As with every visit to Othello, he had to take a moment to take in just how opulent and elegant his best worker’s establishment was. He took a look around, noticing that the owner had changed the three tapestries on the walls since his last visit. No longer did the walls show a choir of 4 angels, the temptation of 2 of them, and how the tempted 2 were damned, while the untempted 2 were allowed to ascend. Instead they now showed a Lovecraftian monster fighting a large knight, the monsters defeat at the hands of the knight, and- “Oh my, now isn’t this a pleasant surprise, Majima-sama. What brings a man of your stature to my humble little restaurant?” The old, hunched-over form of Murata Ichigo made his way over to Majima, looking every bit like the grandfather he was at heart. Still running his beloved restaurant at the age of 99, this was the man who’d worked for Time Enough for almost 90 years, now, and had been unquestionably loyal throughout that time. Yet at the same time… “Oh, cut the shit, Murata. Humble my ass, you have a fucking crystal centerpiece not 20 meters from us. How’s the family coming along?” Murata sat down, smiling kindly at the waitress who brought a glass of water for him, along with Majima’s coke. “Oh, just fine, sir. My son is getting ready to take over for me, and my great grandson is doubling his training regime. He’s aiming to get into Shiketsu High School, you know, and I know he’ll make a great hero.” Majima raised an eyebrow at that. “Hero training? Won’t that be a little, ya know, counter productive? He’ll know exactly where to look to out you to the public, and we both know that Iwasaki and Ishii aren’t exactly made to replace you. Hell, I don’t even think your son is made to replace you.” “Well, we must make do with the best we have, sir. Besides, who am I to tell my family what they can or can’t do. I know that somewhere down the line, Hori-kun will meet you, and you will find a way to convince him to keep quiet.” “You know that I am more than willing to beat your little Hori-kun into submission, right?” “Then I hope he trains hard enough to survive you, sir.” Majima laughed, remembering just why he’d always liked Murata more than the others. He understood what loyalty was, unlike Iwasaki, who he was starting to believe was planning against him. Other than that, Ishii had always been a bit… Bland. Sure, he was a good worker, and he listened to Majima fine enough, but he didn’t stand out all too much. It’s just a shame that Ishii’s position within the Hero Billboard Chart Japan offices is too valuable for Majima to just fire him. Murata had that air of a man who’s accomplished every goal he’s made for himself, which is true, since that goal was usually just “Follow Majima Kokiri”. “We have a lot to discuss, Murata. Let’s take this to your office.” Majima got out of his seat, walking past the old man and towards the door that had a golden plaque with Murata’s name on it. Murata followed after him, worrying in his grandfatherly way, “Majima-sama, weren’t you going to order a meal?” He tittered, “We can always prepare it for you to take it with you, sir. We’ve hired a new chef since your last visit, and I know you want to try his steak recipes!” “No, I’m good. I have my whole day planned out, and it’s bad luck to go against a plan before it’s fallen apart. We have a lot to talk about, and we need to get started.” “You know, sir, a plan never survives contact with the enemy.” “I’m not facing any enemies today, Murata. Only friends, and maybe a few of my students, if everything goes my way.” Majima lets Murata sit down on his own chair. Unlike with Iwasaki, Murata knows his place in this little group of his, so asserting dominance is unnecessary. Plus, the chair is padded in a way to help Murata’s back, so it’d be rude to take that away from him. “Alright, first things first, I hope you’ve gotten in contact with Ueno’s boys already. They’re not quite as good as their father was, but they’ve got the connections needed to get the shit we’re looking for, all the high-yield stuff. For the smaller stuff that I’ve got Iwasaki looking for, they’ll be able to help him out.” “Already done, Majima-sama. Ueno Jun and Ueno Len have already provided Iwasaki with the sidearm you requested along with both shotguns, and have shipped all of the ammo for it, as well as all of the shells. They tell me that they’re having trouble finding the dragon breath shells, as well as everything to do with the high-caliber rifles. They’re proving to be quite elusive, sir.” “Then I guess Iwasaki is just waiting to get everything together before he gives me a call. How about you? Your guys find anything yet?” “It’s only been a few days, sir, so the only thing we’ve gotten our hands on are the frag grenades and the lower tiered alkaline metals. The rest of the explosives will take a bit more time to acquire.” “You have until after the provisional license exams. I don’t want any major problems to get in the way of seeing what my students can do when their skills are really put to the test.” “That reminds me, Majima-sama. Why is it you’re teaching at UA, exactly? Care to put an old man’s mind at ease, sir?” Murata gave Majima a cheeky grin, making him scoff a bit, though he did smile. “Knock it off, you shit-bag. The reason I’m going to create to get you off of my back is that teaching at UA gives me an insight into the heroes movements, allowing me to plan around my enemies.” “But the real reason, sir?” “They’re good people, and they have a lot of potential. They plan to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, and I can respect that. I want to see where it is they’re headed, and where they’ll end up. Aimi was a hero, way back when, and a few of them remind me of her. Plus, some small part of me wanted to spite Akira in any way I could, so, you know…” Murata nodded, understanding what Majima was trying to say. “Perhaps we should get back to the plan, sir. I believe you said that you had plans for today? We wouldn’t want to let you wander too far off schedule.” “Yeah, alright. Where were we? The prison, yeah. Tartarus is going to be heavily guarded, that’s not too big a problem. Guards I can deal with. Heroes are going to create factors I’d rather not deal with. They’ll make going in and out of Time Stop a bit more complicated than I’d like. To make sure that as many eyes as possible are looking away from the prison, we need to set you up around UA, put you in one of the buildings near the school. We’ll set up your Sun directly above the school, keep eyes off of me. Only shoot your shit when you think everyone is calming down, and only aim for the buildings. If you hit any of the students, you’ll have to explain yourself to me. But, if you see a guy with blonde hair wearing leather, then feel free to take a few pot shots. I’m still bitter about that time he spilled coffee all over my lecture notes. Ended up giving out confidential information that Nezu got mad at me for.” “They’ll search the area, sir. What should I do should they barge into whatever building I’m in?” “You’re old, Murata. We’ll move all of your stuff in, set it up like you live there. Whatever happens, don’t let Eraserhead use his quirk on you. Act old and senile, and if you have to, get angry at all these youngsters barging into your house. You never updated your Quirk Registry, right?” “I’m still registered with a weak fireball quirk, sir.” “Good, good. Alright, well, I’ve got shit to do today. Make sure you call Ueno’s boys, make sure Iwasaki’s keeping up on his shopping list. I’m gonna head out.” Majima turned and left, walking out of the back room and onto the main floor of the restaurant, with Murata following a few meters behind him. “Yo, I’m stealing a bottle of wine by the way.” Majima called back, grabbing a bottle from the rack as he walked by and startling the waiter that had been taking an order nearby. “What is mine is yours, sir, you know this. But I was under the impression that you were a sober man now, trying to be better. For your students, if I remember correctly?” “Well, more for three students, if I’m completely honest. Ibara has those weird beliefs about alcohol or whatever, but Iida and Yaoyorozu had started to give me shit for it. Plus, I’ve been thinking about Kori a lot. Don’t think she’d want her old man to be drinking as much as I was. Besides, the bottle’s not just for me, I’m sharing it with a pretty lady tonight.” “A lady?” Murata had a confused look on his face. “I was unaware that you’d begun dating again sir, but…” He looked down for a moment, and Majima turned around to check why he’d stopped talking. When he brought his head up, a wide smile was covering his face, like a child coming face to face with their favorite hero, or just Izuku whenever Yagi walked into the room. “Well, I’m just so happy that you’re finally letting yourself be happy again, sir! You’ve been so sad for so long, the whole time I’ve ever known you. I’m so, so happy that you’re doing this for yourself, sir! Getting back into the game, as you used to tell me!” Majima looked away, growing uneasy with just how happy Murata was. He was always trying to look out for the time stopper. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get back to work, Murata, I need you to be quick with that shopping list. The longer we wait, there’s a higher chance that Akira might try to pull something.” With that said, Majima time stopped his way back to his apartment, closing the door behind him and throwing his coat onto his couch, right next to a Uraraka. He moved into the hallway, pulling his shirt off and closing the bathroom door and started warming up the water. Seriously, over 200 years and they still couldn’t get showers to start off with hot water? That’s probably the only thing he’d been looking forward to during eternity. He set his phone to play some music while he took a shower, something light and jazzy, he’s trying to stay in a good mood, after all. He hopped right i- He turned the water off, put his pants back on and walked back out and into his living room, eyeing the brunette sitting on his couch. He pointed a finger at her, saying “You better hope the school doesn’t have your parents’ phone number on record girl, cause I will be giving them a call about this.” “Wait wait wait, Majima-sensei, please hear me out!” She exclaimed, hopping off of his couch and waving her arms about. Her face was bright red, almost stammering her words as Majima backed away from her. “You stay far the fuck away from me, girl! This already looks bad enough if someone else were to barge in here. Speaking of, how the hell did you even get in here? The only people who have a key are Nezu, Iida, Midoriya and myself. Which of them gave you their key?” “A-Actually, sensei, Nezu-sensei gave me my own key. He told me it was to ‘Pay him back for running away from his responsibilities like a child’.” “That asshole!” Majima yelled, but he quickly took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Today was not the day for this shit, that’s for sure. “Look, just… Just what do you want?” “Is there… Do you happen to know a place that is willing to hire me for a part time position? Money has been a little tight, lately and Nezu overheard me talking to Deku-kun and Iida-kun about it. He gave me a key to your apartment and told me to wait for you to get back.” “Yeah, for future reference, don’t do that. Part time, huh? Whatever, not my place to ask why, not that I care, but I can set you up with a restaurant gig, how’s that? I just got back from talking to one of my guys, owns that place down on Shikifuku Street, high-end place, classy. I’ll get your number off of Midoriya, and I’ll have my guy call you. Now get out, I have a busy day today.” She surprised him by beginning to perform a rapid series of bows, saying thank you over and over in a way that reminded him of Izuku. Finally, after about a minute of this, Majima had enough and just kicked her out. “Oh, shit, uh, when you get back to the dorms, tell Sato to start preparing a little chiffon cake for me, I need it for a date later. Tell ‘im I’ll pay for it.” With a nod of her head she was off, leaving him alone to finally take a shower. When he finished up, he used a towel to wipe away the fog in the mirror, and set about doing something he hadn’t done in 200 years- Trimming his hair and cleaning up his beard. Majima’s not an idiot, he knows that he looks like a homeless man most of the time, but today is about putting your best foot forward, and god damnit, he’s going to look nice for once. Who care if his body resets later tonight, he only has to look good for one day. 30 minutes later, his hair was a tad bit shorter and his face was completely clean shaven. He left the bathroom, putting on a black dress shirt and his best pair of slacks. He glanced at the full length mirror he had on the wall, catching sight of himself. He thought he looked good, even Kayama would probably say so, and god knows she has her tastes. He grabbed his jacket and left, heading to a small soba place down the street. He picked up some hayashi chuka, since hot noodles had always given her a stomach ache. Plus, ordinary cold soba was too cheap for what he had planned, and he’d finally snuck into Nezu’s office to grab all of his paychecks. As a result, he had money to throw around, meaning he was gonna get the best of everything he needed. Good thing Murata’s place was so high class, cause the wine he grabbed wasn’t cheap. He’d even gone so far as to buy some nice crystal wine glasses for later. See, no one can try to say that Majima wasn’t making an effort. He walked back onto the UA campus, passing an irritated Aizawa as he trained that purple kid from the sports festival. That reminded him of something he’d been talking to Kayama about, should he get an apprentice? Aizawa had the purple kid, Yagi had Izuku, hell even Yamada had been eyeing Aoyama. Should he take a student under his wing, show them all about villainy? Maybe, we’ll see. He got to the 1-A dorms and looked around for Sato, finding him in the kitchen just putting the finishing touches on the cake. He paid Sato 5,000 yen for the cake, overpaying a bit because he was in a good mood. He packed away the cake, and nodded happily when he decided that he had everything he’d need for his date. He left the dorms, walking to the train station, not wanting to use Time Stop and walk the whole way to the park. The train took about 30 minutes, and Majima was careful to not jostle his bags too much, lest he break the wine bottles or glasses. Without those, his entire plan is going to fall apart, and he’d be sorely tempted to cry. Well, not real- Yeah, no, really. He’s trying really hard, it would probably be worth a few tears. He hopped off of the train, checking his phone to check the time and continued down the street, heading towards the park. Majima passed a few little fields where children were running around and playing games, and he had to duck to avoid getting hit in the head with a soccer ball. He finally got to where he was headed, pushing past those big iron gates, wincing when they screeched open. That really hammered a few things home. Just how long has it been? He carried his bags down the gravel path, passing a few people here and there, but the park was an old one, very old, so there weren’t too many that he had to worry about. Mostly small families, trying to teach their little ones a bit of family history and whatnot. Majima was heading to the farthest part of the park, all the way towards the back, so he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with any of them. Still, knowing they were around put him on edge. Where there were people, there was the opportunity for crime time funzies, and with crime time funzies came heroes. With heroes came the cops, then investigations, then blah blah blah, you get the point. He didn’t want to deal with that today. He walked for about 20 minutes, the air around him growing colder as night grew closer. He looked up, guessing he had about another 15 minutes before the last of the sun’s light fell over the horizon. That was fine, he only needed just enough time to get them all set up. Eventually, he arrived at the very back of the park, where trees were wide and the grass tall. The benches scattered here and there were old, even older than he was, and were rusted and rotted, falling apart with age. The gravel path had become cobblestone, and the tall rocks that surrounded him were crumbling away. Except for one, though, standing tall, proud, and polished against the dreariness around it, and that’s where his date was waiting for him. He smiled, and laughed as he ran the last few meters to meet here. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you. You wouldn’t believe the day that I’ve had, let me tell you. I had to visit Murata, make plans for murder, you know how that usually works out, then I had to get one of my students a job- Oh, it’s been nonstop all day.” He sat down, looking at the sunset before he started unpacking his bags. “It’s been awhile since we’ve done this, so I made sure I got you your favorite.” He put one of bowls of hayashi chuka on the ground in front of him, before grabbing his own, taking a bite. Majima pulled the chiffon cake out, setting it to the side as he grabbed the wine glasses. Grabbing the bottle of the dark red liquor, he pulled the cork out with a grunt, laughing softly as he poured himself a glass of wine. He filled the second glass and placed it in front of the stone, leaning back and taking a drink. He glanced at the sunset, casting the sky in a beautiful array of pink and purple while as the sun finally fell past the horizon. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the night, and sighed, “So much has happened lately. Let me tell you all about it.”

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2019, Part III

Part I is here. Part II is here.

PRETTY GOOD MOVIES

80. Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese (Martin Scorsese)- Can one put a star rating on Bob Dylan, with renewed purpose, belting out "Isis" in a head and shoulders close-up to New Hampshire teens? What about a naked moment when he and Joan Baez simultaneously realize they should have married each other, and he, for maybe the first time, has nothing to say? As a Dylanologist, I'm glad that this footage from an under-reported period saw the light of day. You can start to think about stars when Martin Scorsese, my other dad, does everything he can to complicate and ultimately undermine that footage with his contributions. I appreciate that he uses his documentaries to experiment and chart his passions, and I think that I get what he's doing with his present-day chicanery, but it does not work for me. Shout-out to when Bob Dylan claims, of one of Scorsese's fake people, "He seemed to need enemies. Even when there weren't any." I felt that. 

79. Serenity (Steven Knight) Djimon Honsou: Lawful Good Jeremy Strong as "The Rules": Lawful Neutral Anne Hathaway: Lawful Evil Diane Lane: Chaotic Good The Kid: Chaotic Neutral Jason Clarke: Chaotic Evil The Bartender: Lawful Neutral Matthew McConaughey: True Neutral Me, Believing Almost Sincerely That This Is a Good Movie: Chaotic Neutral

78. Atlantics (Mati Diop)- It's plenty effective as a window into a patriarchal society I wasn't familiar with, but Atlantics doesn't ever match the heights of its exquisite opening. At the risk of getting banned from this website--and I do realize what I'm implying here...not enough happens.

77. Birds of Passage (Ciro Guerra and Cristina Gallego)- After enjoying the formal invention of Embrace of the Serpent, I was interested to see Guerra and Gallego's spin on a well-worn genre like crime. So I was surprised to see how conventional Birds of Passage was. The indigenous Colombian rituals provide some color and grandeur, but otherwise this is a rise and fall that I've seen before, complete with a hothead character that threatens the whole operation. Perhaps my favorite part of crime movies, the alluring sinful fun that ropes the viewer in and makes him complicit, is nowhere to be found.

76. The Last Black Man in San Francisco (Joe Talbot)- I admire Joe Talbot's debut more than I like it. It's straightforward in its ideas of African-American and masculine performance, and it boils its essence down into a really effective scene near the end (on the bus). It does get tedious though. The protagonists' goals keep changing in a way that makes it seem like the film is overcompensating for how simple it actually is. 

75. Running with Beto (David Modigliani)- Beto O'Rourke is both inspiring and goofy, able to get me to look to the stars and roll my eyes within the same breath. This movie is pretty standard for its genre, but its greatest strength is getting us to see that all people present those contradictions on an individual level, while most people, if we're talking about blue and red states, are the same collectively. 

74. Gemini Man (Ang Lee)- Ang Lee treats Gemini Man like a test reel for 3D high-frame rate presentation, and I think I would have liked the film much less if I hadn't enjoyed the bells and whistles. (Find me in the club and ask me about the HDR--I can go deep.) You could read the film as a comment on Will Smith's Movie Stardom: We're the product of our experiences, and up-and-comers lack some of the character/baggage that Smith brings even if those imitators can approximate his bluster. (The fact that the film is a commercial failure adds another layer. Perhaps the cultural bridge that Smith created is no longer necessary.) 

But you'll notice that none of that stuff is dealing with the text, which rarely does the unexpected, especially when it comes to the mustache-twirling Clive Owen character. The film pointedly avoids a romance between Smith and Mary Elizabeth Winstead, and that's another absence that I'm pretending is a plus.

73. The Hummingbird Project (Kim Nguyen)- At first, the film has trouble selling itself, almost underplaying how quixotic the characters' plan to beat the stock market is. Once it settles in after a few false starts, it expands into a story about how precious time is in general, an idea that Jesse Eisenberg sells in his sympathetic performance. The other characters don't fare as well. Skarsgard's foil is comparatively static and dull, and a dialed-up Salma Hayek makes this a more external, obvious picture than it should have been. But there are long stretches that I like. 72. Escape Room (Adam Robitel)- I was exhausted in a good way as the movie rocketed through its setup, showing us the backstory of half of its characters while bypassing the rest. I was exhausted in a bad way by its fourth ending. Basically though, this movie does its job. And I'm glad that some of these thrillers are still envelope-pushing PG-13's. 71. Late Night (Nisha Ganatra)- There's a preposterous scene swinging into the third act that I just cannot accept or get behind, and it introduces a wave of Serious Scenes of People Getting Real with Each Other. But I haven't seen such a distilled juxtaposition of second-wave feminism and third-wave feminism before, let alone in a comedy. Some solid jokes. And John Lithgow playing piano while feeling bad about himself! 70. Non-Fiction (Olivier Assayas)- Non-Fiction is a sign that Assayas, always prolific, is entering the Woody Allen Zone. That is, he, a filmmaker capable of great formal beauty, has left behind formal rigor for a moderately funny tale about pseudo-intellectuals having conversations that would have been provocative five or ten years ago. 90% of the film depicts infidelity, but it isn't really about infidelity. Just as every latter-day Allen picture has two or three immaculate jokes or inward moments, Non-Fiction, despite its lack of ambition, has some perfect Assayas inter-textual flourishes. The Selena character bemoans the disposable nature of the TV show she works on, but Assayas drops us into one of the show's wintry, over-exposed shoot-outs as if to capture a genre he'll never fully pursue. He also writes a joke in which Selena, played by Juliette Binoche, claims that she'll try to talk Juliette Binoche into recording an audio book.

69. Crawl (Alexandre Aja)- I guess you could say something negative about this movie, but you would also have to mention that ol' girl lets off a full clip from inside the gator while it is chomping her arm off. So it pretty much has that Academy Awards category sewn up. 68. Long Day’s Journey Into Night (Bi Gan)- as Chinese Jerry Seinfeld once said, "Why don't they make the whole movie out of the hour-long unbroken 3D take?"

67. The Art of Self-Defense (Riley Stearns)- The Art of Self-Defense is a film of two halves--in a way that, actually, Riley Stearns's previous film Faults was. For me, those two halves, one being slow and pre-ordained, the other being wild and unpredictable, are too extreme on either end. The vagueness of the setting is a weapon that goes a long way in unifying those parts though. Even if I couldn't get down with the silliness, The Art of Self-Defense is worth checking out for Alessandro Nivola's career-best performance. The movie is about performative masculinity, so he has the challenge of playing a sort of confident monolith while also being totally specific. He's everything you would imagine a karate instructor to be, but he also takes his glasses out of their case in a way I've never seen before.

66. Dolemite Is My Name (Craig Brewer)- Keep in mind that I couldn't make it all the way through Dolemite proper, so I'm not the intended audience for this film's "let's put on a show" awe. The structure is notable: It starts with Rudy Ray Moore as a failure who has tried everything, crests past the shooting of his movie, and uses that completion as a plot point, only to focus on the distribution for the third act. That is, the screenplay breathes new life into the plot right when it needs it. Eddie Murphy's best performances always seem like regretful commentaries on his own relationship with the audience, (I'm picturing the final speech of The Nutty Professor.) and he follows suit here. Even better is an effete Wesley Snipes as the too-cool-for-school D'Urville. Despite all of the talent involved, however, the thing just isn't funny, and it's least funny in the comedy club scenes that are supposed to sell us on Rudy Ray Moore's genius. If it's not supposed to be funny, then why populate the movie with five comedic supporting actors?

65. Harriet (Kasi Lemmons)- History classes could do a lot worse. Like a history class, the film has so much ground to cover that it has to make choices for pacing, and even then it still feels like a greatest hits. It does have a surprising, brazen edge though, and it's more spiritually curious than I was expecting. Kasi Lemmons leans in to the mystical side of the story, using Tubman's spells as conversations with God that give her the confidence that she needs. The device is a double-edged sword though: What distinguishes and others Tubman, what makes her the chosen one, is also kind of passive and out of her control. Speaking of out of control, Joe Alwyn plays the slaveholder who ain't gonna be as nice as his pappy was. "Seems to me things have gotten a little too easy 'round these parts." 64. Motherless Brooklyn (Edward Norton)- Like Edward Norton, Motherless Brooklyn is sincere and smart and shows its work. Also like Edward Norton, it sort of tires you out after a while with how hard it's trying. I respect the ambition--the film tangles itself in race and jazz and urban planning and makeshift families--but by the third or fourth time that the hero blacks out while getting roughed up, the film reveals that it can't quite thread the needle between noir pastiche and noir cliche. It's satisfying enough as a mystery in general.

63. The Two Popes (Fernando Meirelles)- I'm the target audience for 21st century papal fan-fic, and even I started to zone out during the flashbacks. Jonathan Pryce sort of disappears, but I think this is the first Netflix prestige project being judged on a curve.

[sakhyu-blog]

Role Reversal Voltron AU

Guess who got me into another fandom crais ty puppet. Anyway, gonna type this down before I forget it since its kind of interesting and who knows? Might find some time to write a fic for it.

ROLE REVERSAL AU

Keith: Senior cadet at Galaxy Garrison, Iverson’s prized (and super troublesome; the commander has several new white hairs because of him) student and resident Golden Boy. Keith burst into the Garrision like a wrecking ball, smashing records left and right and especially topping the emo charts. Despite his tendency to talk back to his superiors, all the staff at the Garrison are quite fond of the prickly little hedgehog, and every student thinks of him as their hero. Keith is still a loner by nature, however, and before the new superstar student Takashi Shirogane started clinging to him like a particularly stubborn burr, Keith’s only friend was his best friend Katie Holt. Together with lovely but quite badass Colleen Holt, they are the three who gets selected to go on the Kerberos mission. 

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane: Shiro is easily the best fighter pilot of his class, and he would have been the best pilot of the generation if it weren’t for the senior cadet Keith. Despite Keith’s success and personality, however, it soon became obvious that everyone adored the awkward senior. And before long, Shiro did as well. Keith was blunt and honest, but he was fair. Keith didn’t look at Shiro as if he was an adversity, or with jealousy. Being with Keith felt like he was taking a breath of fresh air, and for the first time since Shiro started at the Garrison, he finally felt as if he could breathe. When the news of the failure of the Kerberos mission was released, Shiro was devastated. Together with his accomplice Matt, or “Pidge”, Shiro sets out to find out the truth behind Kerberos (and maybe bring his friend back home). Fun Fact: Shiro’s nickname ‘Shiro’ was coined by Keith, because when he first met Shiro, ‘Shiro’ was the only part of Takashi’s name Keith remembered.

Katie Holt: Keith’s best friend and a total badass (she takes after her mother). Unlike canon, she needs no one to protect her from gladiator life. Because dang, all those spars with Keith since their first year really paid off. Katie is especially vicious in the ring so she wouldn’t be separated from her best friend like her mother was with them. And after one fight where the opponent used Katie’s beautiful long hair against her, she cut it all off mid battle via Sakura-style. After spending time as Galra prisoners, Katie becomes a bit overprotective of Keith, especially since the boy was experimented on by the Galra and became more prone to illnesses...And he also grew some fluffy and purple cat ears. You can’t forget the cat ears. Honestly, that might be the most surprising thing Katie’s seen, because wow. Keith was now a real-life nekomimi. Fun Fact: Katie and Keith are known as the K-duo in school, since both their names start with K. It’s also hard to find one of the K-duo members without the other nearby.

Matthew/Matt “Pidge” Holt: Shiro’s partner in crime in all Kerberos-related things, Matt was actually pretty close to Keith and knew Shiro before the mission. Kind of hard not to when Shiro came Attached™ with Keith and Keith was Katie’s best friend. After getting caught by Iverson trying to sneak out info from his office, Matt is banned from joining the Garrison and instead hacks himself in as ‘Pidge’. For his disguise, Matt got some contacts and grew out his hair. He makes a very pretty girl and Hunk is kind of dying because “Lance stop flirting with our engineer!” After Matt is reunited with Katie and Keith, the two siblings make a new plan to find their mother.

Lance: Well-loved student of the Garrison and Hunk’s smooth-talking communications officer, Lance talks his way out of almost everything in the simulations...unless, of course, the person on the other side has a feminine voice, because then Lance would be flirting instead. As it is, he flirts with ‘Pidge’ a lot, to Hunk’s utmost exasperation. Doesn’t help when ‘Pidge’ gamely flirts back. Lance has always secretly wanted to be a pilot, and he is still the first to find and pilot Blue. His ‘rivalry’ with Keith still happens, though this time its sprinkled with some awe as well. To Keith’s delight, however, that awe quickly dissipates.

Hunk: A cargo pilot who realizes a bit too late that his career choice might have not been the best, especially since he’s a pilot who’s afraid of heights. Why didn’t he try out for that culinary school instead again? Works quite well with his team, as long as he goes into the simulator on an empty stomach. Also, getting tips and tutoring from the legendary Shiro probably helped a lot as well.

Haggar: Prince Lotor’s mother and Queen of Altea, she turns into the head of the mice team to keep his son company. Her magic keeps her alive for ten thousand years, even if it has depleted to the point that she cannot turn back into a human anymore (Lotor and Coran loves her anyway). Was a very, very good shape-shifter and seems to be interested in Keith’s origins and ears, for some reason...

King Alfor: The former King of Altea and the former Red Paladin, Alfor betrays his whole kingdom to run after his best friend Zarkon. He isn’t magic like his wife, but he does build magic-like machines and monsters to go after the paladins. After all, the blueprints for Voltron was his creation.

Prince Lotor: Prince Lotor was the one who fell out of a cyro pod after sleeping for ten thousand years. He is the pseudo leader of Voltron, and viciously trains the paladins with the ‘tough love’ method. Is extremely glad his mother is still with him, and very bitter about the whole Galra taking over thing, since he has to now go against his father and his father’s best friend AKA his uncle. Finds a new family in the Paladins, as weird and out-of-character as it might seem, and maintains a snarky friendship with Keith. 

Princess Allura: “SUMMON PRINCESS ALLURA.”

[ts1989fanatic]

The 2010s have been great to female pop stars such as Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Rihanna, and Adele. However, the two who have defined the decade the most (at least when combining awards, record sales, and concert ticket sales) are Beyonce and Taylor Swift. Let’s compare and contrast the two.

ts1989fanatic Firstly let me just say for the record that I hate it when they compare and contrast different artists like this. In this case it’s even worse let us only go by studio albums only.

Beyonce 6 pop studio albums Taylor 1 pop studio album up until 1989 Taylor Swift was a country icon/legend (NOT FUCKING POP YOU TROLLS)

Record Sales

Beyonce kicked off the decade with 4, and it failed to produce a top 10 single. However, “Run the World (Girls)” has become one of Bey’s most talked about hits. The album is certified platinum on RIAA, meaning that it has shipped over a million copies, but has sold a lot less.

However, Beyonce put things back in gear with her late-2013 surprise release. It ushered in the era of the “surprise album” and has sold 5 million copies worldwide. According to Yahoo, Beyonce’s latest album Lemonade has sold 1.52 million copies in the United States, and 4 million copies worldwide.

Like Beyonce, Taylor Swift has been active before this decade. And just like Beyonce, Swift has also peaked this decade. 2010’s Speak Now has sold over 4 million copies in the United States and 5 million worldwide. Billboard has Swift’s 2013 album Red selling over 4 million copies as of January 2015. At the end of 2015, 1989, her most recent album, sold 5.35 million copies. It has sold more than 10 million worldwide.

Taylor Swift is easily the winner in this category. Not only has she sold far more albums than Beyonce, but she has had a lot more hit singles as well.

ts1989fanatic Even though Taylor wins this category the point I made above still stands,  Beyonce and Taylor had different audiences for their music for most of this decade so comparing their record sales is unfair and stupid because of this.

Touring

Beyonce has become a huge touring act. According to Forbes, her 2014 Mrs. Carter Tour grossed $229 million. Then, as Billboard notes, her recent Formation World Tour grossed over $250 million and included some dates that sold more than 70,000 tickets.

“The highest-grossing stop on the tour came from two sellouts at London’s Wembley Stadium July 2-3 that took in $15.3 million and sold 142,500 tickets. Earlier in the run, an $11.5 million take from two sellouts at New York’s City’s Citi Field took in $11.5 million and moved 73,486 tickets as the highest-grossing date in North America.”

Taylor Swift’s Red World Tour grossed over $150 million when it ended in 2014. According to Time, Swift grossed over $250 million with her 1989 World Tour. Swift is definitely on the upswing when it comes to touring, but Beyonce takes the win in this category based on total revenue from her past two tours.

ts1989fanatic When it comes to judging tours it is very difficult to compare and contrast them and say this artist or that one came out on top without a lot more research than I am prepared to do.

You have to look at the number of dates for the tour, I think 1989 was one of Taylor’s shortest tours 78 shows total  $254.9 million in ticket sales Beyonce on her last tour The Mrs. Carter tour 132 shows $228.7 million so not a fair comparison. You also have too take in to account ticket prices I’m not even gonna try.

Critical Acclaim

Beyonce and Taylor Swift have achieved a high amount of critical acclaim. Taylor Swift’s 1989 won the Grammy for Album of the Year in 2016, and Beyonce is expected to win the Grammy for Lemonade in 2017. While both Beyonce and Taylor Swift have been accused of being overrated, it’s Swift who is attracting the biggest amount of backlash these days.

As 2016 started, Swift was still (many say undeservedly) being called a racist over her video for “Wildest Dreams,” which the Huffington Post criticized as bringing back white colonialism. However, the real backlash occurred after it was widely reported that Swift was unhappy with the use of her name in Kanye West’s song “Famous.” Unfortunately, a tape was released where people assumed that Swift gave Kanye approval of the song.

In the days of the Internet, the actual truth gets lost. In truth, Kanye never told Taylor he was going to call her “that b***h,” something that could be considered insulting for a young woman. Taylor responded in a way that her fans loved, but the Internet was just looking to bash Swift no matter what.

ts1989fanatic And there it is they had to include the Kanye crap just for shits and grins, the piece did not need it but what the hell (LET’S BASH TAYLOR) because well why not.

At the end of the year, as the Inquisitr noted, Swift’s new single from 50 Shades Darker wasn’t performing nearly as well as people expected. However, the song has experienced a boost on the charts recently, so it’s way too early to count out Swift, who will likely release a new album before the end of 2017.

ts1989fanatic What the hell criteria are they using to measure success in this case, (OH AND BY THE WAY IT’S ZAYN’S SONG IDIOTS) my guess there are a lot of artists out there who would love to be performing this poorly. Especially when you take into account the absolute lack of promotion and no video currently available (HINT HINT @taylorswift) just saying.

Who do you think is the biggest pop star of the decade — Beyonce or Taylor Swift?

ts1989fanatic Let me finish this by saying (WHO CARES) these are two incredibly talented but totally different artists, who have both reached heights that others only dare to dream of. Both of these young ladies have enough awards between them to sink a good sized battle ship but both of them compete for the most part in different genres Beyonce R&B and Pop Taylor Country and Pop.

Both have had enormous amounts of success in their respective careers and I for one don’t see either of them stopping any time soon. So instead of comparing and once again pitting women against each other, let’s all celebrate their success and wish them much more in their future endeavors like @taylorswift releasing TS6.

[365footballorg-blog]

Armchair Analyst: Good, Bad & Ugly of the most recent USMNT camp

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October 17, 20189:45AM EDT

The latest two friendlies – a 4-2 loss to Colombia and a 1-1 draw with Peru – are in the books. Given the stakes of the game (null), where we are in the cycle (hella early) and the roster called in (experimental), none of what happened should be keeping anybody up at night for good or for bad. They were just friendlies.

That said, there’s always something to learn if you’ve got an open mind and a keen eye. So let’s take a look at the Good, the Bad & the Ugly from the last 180 minutes of USMNT play.

The Good

• Dave Sarachan saved his best for last. When he took over a year ago his mandate was more or less 1) to breathe some life back into the program by playing as many kids as possible, 2) to sort out the defense at least a little bit and 3) to get his players to play with pride and toughness.

For the first eight games of his tenure he read that as “play a bunch of defensive midfielders – even if they’re out of position – and very few attackers.” What, exactly, did we learn from games in which Tyler Adams was at winger?

He shed his overly defensive ways for the last two games and while that meant the U.S. got drilled against Los Cafeteros, I don’t care. By playing pretty much every player in their best spot, we learned a lot about who could compete at that level. By doing the same against Peru, we learned about who could compete at that level. These games were fun and good and an extremely valuable couple of data points.

Would’ve been nice to get the win against Peru, but I don’t blame the coach for that.

• The kids the kids the kids the kids. Even without Adams, Weston McKennie and Christian Pulisic, these last two games were revelatory (and don’t forget the game before that, against Mexico, in which the 19-year-old Adams scored the game-winner off of a perfect cross from 21-year-old left back Antonee Robinson).

What do I mean by “revelatory?” This:

omfgggg pic.twitter.com/l8d1eFhpfg

— Arthur Kogan (@TheRealArturK) October 17, 2018

That’s 23-year-old Kellyn Acosta to 18-year-old Josh Sargent to 19-year-old Jonathan Amon to 18-year-old Tim Weah. It didn’t quite come off, which is a shame because if it had, it would’ve been one of the very best goals the U.S. scored this decade.

There were little moments like this in attack scattered throughout the last two games. Sargent’s ability to link play both through midfield and in the final third is advanced for a kid who’s only every played five meaningful games against adults; Amon has a gift for making the first defender miss and his ideas with the ball are very good; Weah not only made the play of the game against Colombia, but he appears to be on his way toward becoming a DaMarcus Beasley-esque defensive presence on the wing.

I’m gonna add 20-year-old FC Dallas right back Reggie Cannon to this group as well. Not for a single second, in his debut, did he look out of place, and the few times he got forward he was able to become part of the play.

The end product mostly wasn’t there on this night, but guess what? I don’t care. You play these tough games with these kids at this part of the cycle with the hope that they will learn from them, and be ready to provide more end product six months from now, and 12 months from now, and 24 months from now and beyond that.

I saw seeds of creative attacking play, and I saw moments of real chemistry. It was good.

• With all due respect to Sargent, the best player on the pitch for the U.S. on Tuesday was Aaron Long. He was smooth and unfazed even while putting out fires and defending in isolation all throughout the first half. Then in the second half, with the USMNT determined to get on the ball a little bit more, he was the one who started most sequences, calmly distributing through the Peruvian press.

Most of those sequences died in midfield, which we’ll get to in a minute. But Long – who, like Cannon and Amon, was making his international debut – walked out onto the field against a top 20-ish team in the world and put forth the best game an American center back has played this year.

If Long can replicate this next month against England or Italy, one of John Brooks or Matt Miazga is going to have to fight for their job.

The Bad

• Michael Bradley’s first 70 minutes against Colombia were really good, and his last 20 minutes were the opposite of that. The veteran tasked with locking down a result let Falcao slip right past him and into the box for what proved to be the game-winning goal.

Then on Tuesday, Cannon was subbed out after 84 really solid minutes for veteran right back DeAndre Yedlin. One-hundred-twenty seconds later, this happened:

For both veterans, the defensive lapses represented a worrying continuation of their respective club form.

There’s maybe nobody in the world who needs an offseason more than Bradley, who’s basically played every available minute since he was 17 years old and looks like he’s carrying all of them out there whenever he sets foot on the pitch. He can still bring calmness to the game and spray passes better than any d-mid in the US pool, but watch him (try to) move and, compared to the player he was 12 or 18 or 24 months ago… it’s night and day.

I question whether he’ll ever get his legs back.

With Yedlin, I’m on the verge of giving up the ghost re: him ever being a conscientious defender. He’s 25, so definitely not a kid anymore. He’s played 200-plus professional games, 65 of them in the English Premier League. Why is he still falling asleep at the back post? Why is he still getting pulled into no-man’s-land?

On this roster, he should be a leader – someone who sets the tone and makes veteran plays that the kids don’t even see unfolding. He wasn’t that at all.

• It was always going to be a tall task in any of these last four games, and if at the start of September you’d offered me a 1-2-1 record with a -3 goal differential against Brazil, Mexico, Colombia and Peru, I’d have taken it.

But yeah, the old complaint is there: I’d like to have seen more meaningful possession through midfield rather than hurried, nervous, scattered play. It was especially lacking in the first half against Peru.

If Gregg Berhalter takes over next month – and at this point, it’d be kind of shocking if he didn’t – it’ll be interesting to see how much of Columbus Crew SC’s calm, two-touch soccer he tries to bring to the national team. Given the player pool, maybe it’s just not worth it.

But I actually suspect it is. Let me put it this way: Counterattacking is fine, and we should do a lot of it. But good-to-great counterattacking teams, in any league or international competition, tend to end up with 40 to 45 percent of the ball. The U.S. against Peru had 31.6 percent.

I’m still fine with the result, but how much more satisfying would Tuesday have been if they’d been able to just put their foot on the ball for the final 15 minutes and kill the game off? If you can’t do that, you’re going to invite teams forward, and if you invite teams forward, you’re leaving yourself open for back-breaking last-minute goals at the back post.

The Ugly

• Antonee Robinson’s night was a STRUGGLE against Colombia, just as it was against Brazil in September. Ben Sweat’s first half was a nightmare against Peru.

Robinson bounced back with a strong sub appearance, including that game-winning assist, against Mexico. Sweat bounced back with a defensively competent and occasionally useful offensive performance in the second half against Peru. Anyone who looks at the left back position and decides that all hope is lost is being ridiculous.

One of the best things Sarachan did was leaving Sweat in there. Dude played through his yips and was useful in the second half.https://t.co/5hXrnY22M8

— Matthew Doyle (@MattDoyle76) October 17, 2018

Anyone who looks at it and says it’s a position of strength is being equally ridiculous. Robinson needs to develop some smarts in a league not known for emphasizing that, Sweat needs to bottle what he had in the second half and make sure he brings it to bear for the full 90 whenever he’s on the field for club or country, Danilo Acosta needs to find a team that will play him, and maybe Nick Lima (who’s right-footed, but is equally comfortable at left back) needs a look as well.

Regardless, unless George Bello is about to make a Cannon-esque ascent in 2018, this is an area of concern.

• Wil Trapp did a nice job of organizing the US midfield – there’s a reason Peru didn’t have a shot on goal until the 70th minute, and it was because the U.S. lines were tight and connected even after the countless turnovers that plagued the team.

What he didn’t do was win the ball much, at all, in the center of the pitch, and that puts a hard cap on his usefulness as a player, especially with younger guys like Adams and Russell Canouse coming through the ranks. Moreover, Trapp’s biggest strength has always been his ability to organize the game by spraying possession from side to side and eventually playing his team into the attacking third.

On Tuesday, he wasn’t able to do that:

By no means was this entirely his fault. Sweat’s struggles meant that Trapp was constantly pulled out wide to help shut down Peruvian attacks; none of the other midfielders could put a foot on the ball and control the game even a little bit; the whole endeavor was hamstrung by a lack of urgency to push the game forward, which meant that even when the USMNT were in good spots they were hesitant to do anything except cycle uselessly.

It happens.

But Trapp is 25 – not a kid – and while he’s not the type of veteran that Yedlin is, he was nonetheless one of the older players in this camp and was expected to bring some sort of order to the chaos, and he did not. If he’s unable to do that in the long run, he will find himself looking up the depth chart at others very, very soon.

• Bringing Sweat back on for the second half was one of the best things that Sarachan did, since it led to 45 solid minutes for a previously nervous player at a position of need. Maybe he’ll never wear the Red, White & Blue again, but (more likely) when he does wear it again in January camp, we’ll all see a more confident and competent player. It was a good piece of man management.

So was benching Kenny Saief for this game:

We assumed COL were targeting robinson but really they just went after the weakest entry point in the 442. After the goal dave moved saief right (instead of telling him to play real defense). COL found him there too. Then it’s dominoes pic.twitter.com/43UmYOQfC3

— constable velasquez (@away_goals) October 15, 2018

Click through and look at that whole thread, with clips, of Saief’s lack of defensive effort against Colombia. That’s unacceptable from any player at any age, but for a 24-year-old – again, not a kid – who plays for a UEFA Champions League team?

I had high hopes for Saief heading into this camp and was hugely disappointed by what we saw last week. Hopefully the message has been sent and we’ll see better from him the next time he’s given the opportunity to fight for a role with this team.

• Same for Julian Green, I hope. He got stuck in on a tackle against Colombia and it led to Wood’s goal. He pulled out of a tackle (you can hear Ian Darke commenting upon it at the start of the clip above) against Peru and it led to a goal conceded. That’s not how you win a job.

Green is, from my point of view, still a man without a real position with this group. He gets into great spots, but doesn’t have the speed to be a pure winger, doesn’t have the technique to eliminate players off the dribble, and doesn’t have anything close to the vision needed to be a playmaker.

The good news? If he can get healthy, the next time the U.S. step on a field it’ll likely be Pulisic picking the ball up in those spots. And if that doesn’t put a smile on your face, you just don’t know how to be happy.

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Armchair Analyst: Good, Bad & Ugly of the most recent USMNT camp was originally published on 365 Football