#i love having youtube at half volume

[blubebbie]

i love changing my volume. i love having favorite percentages for different devices. i love hearing stuff loud enough to hear every detail. i love hearing stuff so quiet that it barely registers. i love muting things. i love volume sliders. i love volume :)

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023

Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx

Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.

Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.

Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.

Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.

Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).

Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.

Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.

Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.

Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).

Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.

Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.

Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.

Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.

Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.

Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.

Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.

Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.

Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.

Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx

[writtensturn]

enamored | m.s

PAIRING : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

GENRE : fluff! bsf matt, love interest.

SUMMARY : matt and his bestfriend learn to know more about their feelings.. with eachother.

!WARNINGS! : use of y/n & cursing.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

y/n and matt have been bestfriends for years, they met in highschool and haven’t gotten close until senior year. after that they’ve spent of their time together, she got along great with his two other brothers nick and chris who she treated like her own. when their youtube career took off and they moved out to california, the two were a little crushed since they always hung out. it started off as y/n saving enough to fly out and spend weeks with them to matt buying her business class tickets and having her stay even longer, sometimes she gets spoiled with first class. a couple weeks into her staying at the sturniolos her and matt went out for icecream.

“no don’t do that” she smacked his hand from touching the radio volume

“im just saying there’s better artists than tyler the creator” matt’s voice echoed back to her, and with that she gasped.

“so you mean like mac miller” she scouted out his favorite artist getting under his skin as they drive to the store

“exactly” his attitude shot back at her with a small smirk

“uh no by better you mean frank ocean, daniel ceaser, and mm maybe childish gambino. oh! don’t forget about the love of my life dominic fike” y/n said back to him quickly her smile growing bigger as she spoke

“and that’s where i keep my mouth shut” matt added back, before pulling into a spot infront of ralph’s. her and matt got out of the car as she walked around the front, her steps aligned with his walking in sync. her eyes looked up to the moon and how it shined down on the two, matt and her walked in the doors him heading to the frozen isles knowing exactly where it is while she was still getting used to the town. the two walked down the isles and he stoped infront of the ice cream.

“uhhh” matt managed to get through his lips as he looked cluelessly at the many flavors and combinations, he spotted one of her favorites and moved to open the door to grabbed it.

“take this” he said not looking aiming for her arms, having her moving forward so she could take it from him. she looked at the flavor of ben and jerry’s and smiled while shaking her head, knowing it was her favorite. matt continued to look his eyes wondering to figure out what he wanted.

“cmon slow poke i don’t have all night” she said fixing her stance and letting a breath out

“yeah what better do you have to do” matt said grabbing his half baked and pushed her shoulder to start walking out of the isle with his hands on her shoulders, as he walked slowly behind her.

“uhh i don’t know anything but that” she smiled as she walked to the self checkout, she scanned her ice cream holding in her head before grabbing matt’s from his hands and scanning it. she pressed everything while matt took his wallet out from his back pocket and got out his card, she quickly swatted his hand.

“you flew me out let me pay for once” she groaned as matt’s eyes looked into hers

“no” he said back sternly, and that was the end of discussion. he tapped his card, grabbing the receipt leaving her annoyed. they walked out moving back to his car, once she opened the door and sat in matt started it and pulled out. she watched his hands as he pulled into a spot further back where there weren’t a lot of cars or lights, she put on frank ocean humming around as she took the spoons they took from the house out of the cup holder and opened the top of her ice cream, and m took a couple bites.

“close my eyes and fall into you, you. my god shes giving me pleasure” she sung softly, she turned to feel matt’s gaze on her. she looked at the way his hair fell perfectly above his eyes, his blues staring into her own. she feels a feeling in her stomach she’s never felt with matt before, she lets in a shaken breath.

“what” she let out softly loud enough for matt to hear

“you just” he said letting out a content sigh as he tilted his head and his hand came up from his lap and was placed on her chin, wiping off a drip of ice cream on her lip. as matt’s thumb ran across her lip, her expression immediately dropped her heart beginning to beat a little faster and that feeling in her stomach growing. maybe it was the music, or the late hour but suddenly her world fell around him.

“matt” she whispered again as he hand fell from her face returning to his side

“hm” he replied softly his eyes pouring into hers again

“um” she shook her head with a smile trying to shake off the feeling as she leans over the arm rest, wiping some of the chocolate from his face. matt let out a small laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. she watched his expression turn serious his head tilting as they were inches apart, she watches him flutter his eyes at her before licking his bottom lip.

“can i kiss you.” matt’s voice moved to her ears, a pit in her stomach started to form. her lips parted, his question shocking her. all the years they’ve been friends they’ve never once been intimate, had a moment or took anything seriously. sure they were hugs and soft cuddles but this, never.

“yes.” she whispered back at him, her eyes flickering from his to his soft pink lips that moved against hers. his hand came up to rest on her waist, hers moving to his face. it was sweet and warm, as she pulled away she looked at him with a smile, quickly turning into a laugh.

“matt” she shook her head leaning back into her seat

“what” he smiled back “i’ve wanted to do that for the longest time” he shook his head looking down into his lap

“you should’ve just-“ she was caught up by his subtle quick moves leaning over her and kissing her quickly again, and again.

“matt!” she was able to mutter threw his quick kisses, laughing at his lips on hers moving to her cheek and coming back to lay against hers again this time for longer and more gentle.

“god i love you” he said leaning his forehead against hers, the relief of letting it out. they’ve said i love yous before but this time was way different, it wasn’t quick and over the phone or saying goodbye it was in the moment.

“so what do you want this to be” she let out a small laugh under her breath as her eyes looked up into his as he left more space between them.

“whatever you want this to be” shooting his sweet smile back at her making her smile even more.

(do you guys want this as a series)

[ihatedean]

it's so small but there's something so interesting to me about the fact that when dean makes eileen's "pro list" with sam he says "she gets it. she gets us" instead of... you know, the much more normal and sane alternative when talking about your brother's potential partner, "she gets you."

it speaks volumes I think because there are so many examples of their attempts at a committed relationship failing specifically because [she] (insert whatever name you want here) did not get them. like, as a unit. [she] understood sam or understood dean and could maybe have given them something they wanted; you think you love someone, and yeah, there's baggage, he's been through some shit he doesn't want to talk about, but sometimes that's relationships, right? but if you had to pinpoint a moment in the relationship when things got bad, it would literally be the second the brother shows up. that's when you realize this man can't even imagine being anything but a half of something else. you love a person that is incapable of seeing himself as such. you loved a coping mechanism.

i don't think dean believes sam ever needed his seal of approval to be with eileen, not consciously at least, but the highlight of these late seasons is witnessing the aftermath of these two accepting that they cannot breathe if they don't know where the other one is. even worse, how natural they make it seem. of course i killed myself to bring you back. water is wet, dude, keep up. and just like dean said, eileen just... gets that. definitely because she met them at a very different point in their lives in comparison to, say, lisa or amelia. they have a security that only comes with seeing with your own eyes as your brother literally kills death for you. eillen knows that if she wants sam, he'll always carry dean with him. she might not fully understand how deep it goes or how bad it can get because she never witnessed it, all she knows is that brother trumps over girlfriend, she's not fighting it.

compared to sam who barely opens up to his partners and i assume only scratched the surface of The Thing with his brother, dean personally had his ex calling him out on his weird relationship with sam. like, lisa borderline insults them lol and though i don't think lisa's words made him insecure about it, it's not surprising he'd be more aware of eileen's reaction to it. "i tried the family thing" essentially means "i let someone see it."

if eileen stays there she'll be dating the two of them, just... in a not-fun, very unsexy way. and no one in that bunker stops for a second to think how deeply disturbing that is.

anyways i wrote this three days ago and thought maybe my brain made up the "she gets us" part, so i looked up the clip to make sure i'm not crazy and found this in the comments. thank you sinasina4170 on youtube two years ago. you said it a lot better in a lot less words.

[ddejavvu]

i was using Spotify and I realized how u could see what ur friends are listening to atm on there and it would be so fun to have hotch discover this, and be surprised that the reader is listening to songs like “or nah” or j any explicit songs like that and is into it😋 could lead into something more like playing that song while they’re doing it later on

OKAY THANK YOU LOVE UR WRITING!!!

i love you! i just left this vague and open to whatever song you want to insert!

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Being Spotify friends with Aaron Hotchner only came about because of Penelope's insistence on team bonding. And because she wanted to send everyone the personalized playlists she'd made for them, and sharing became much easier that way.

All it's yielded for you is the knowledge that, very infrequently, Hotch remembers he has a music app on his phone, and that he plays 2-3 Beatles songs before he inevitably gets called to another task and has to shut off the music.

Aaron is even less frequently informed of your tastes in music than you are of his, because the few times that he's used the app, he forgets to check what the other members of the team are listening to. Not that he really cares; Spencer's listening to classical and Derek has too-loud EDM playing in his headphones that Savannah teases him for. Rossi prefers records to his phone, and JJ plays mainly kids' songs for her boys. Emily is always listening to some mid-2000's rock song, but you, you he hasn't gotten a read on. You're all over the place, switching from singer to singer, genre to genre, language to language. All in all, his team's music taste doesn't affect him, but Penelope is far more eager to snoop on you all than he is.

"Ooh, nasty girl," She gushes, head bent to look at her phone as she waits in Aaron's office. He'd instructed her to let him have five minutes to finish a report before she briefed him on a new case's details, but she's proving very distracting. With a glance up at her, half-scathing, half-incredulous, he asks, 'What?'

"Oh! Y/N's Spotify," She holds out her phone as explanation, showcasing your profile with unfamiliar album art displayed over it. It's black and red, but Aaron doesn't recognize the song or the artist.

He raises an eyebrow at Penelope, and she huffily gives into his demand.

"It's a song about sex," She informs him, "Like- feral, sweaty, hungry, clawing-at-the-sheets, scratching-up-his-back, mouth-open-so-he-"

"Alright! Enough," Hotch snaps, glaring disapprovingly at her rather vulgar language, "I think I get the picture, Garcia."

"Sorry, sir." She looks only mildly sheepish, talking more to herself than she is to him as she muses, "Didn't know she was into that kind of thing."

Aaron doesn't think about the title of the song again until well after Penelope's gone, and he's taking his lunch alone in his office. He's more a fan of songs that, if they are about sex, don't outwardly mention any vulgarity, and he's not sure if he could handle explicit material being spewed at loud volumes directly into his ear. Call it morbid curiosity, call it Disapproving Boss Syndrome, but he fishes near-new headphones out of his desk drawer to find out what you've been listening to while filling out government paperwork all day.

He has the good sense to look it up on youtube without logging in. He doesn't want this attached to him in any way, and he certainly doesn't want eagle-eyed Penelope catching him on Spotify.

The beginning of the song seizes the ear right away, a unique beat that definitely doesn't sound sexually appealing. But when each different instrument filters in and the lyrics begin, he realizes that Penelope's description was not very far off.

It's filthy.

It's twenty kinds of vulgar, words that he's never even heard before being used to refer to genitalia. The only way he figures out their definitions is through context, and he thinks he may have been better off without knowing them. He's floored by the contents of the song; he knows sexual songs exist, even at this level of vulgarity, but he'd have never expected you to indulge in them. Certainly not in the workplace.

The song finishes out at three minutes and nine seconds, and Hotch feels a slight heat to his face as he unplugs his headphones and closes the tab. No one had caught him, but he feels mortified anyways, and decides he no longer has an appetite.

He puts the lid back onto the container of leftover pasta that he'd brought from home, keeping his head down as he treks to the kitchenette to refrigerate it.

Of course, his luck fails him as he nearly bumps into you, rounding the corner to the small, closed-off kitchen and finding you in front of the microwave in the doorway.

"Oh! Sorry, Hotch." You laugh, stepping out of his way to let him through. He notices an earbud in your ear and pushes away the knowledge of what song you're probably listening to, heading for the fridge instead.

"It's fine." He grumbles, electing to stay silent for the rest of your impromptu meeting if he can manage. He feels slightly guilty for being cold towards you, because it was his own curiosity that led to his embarrassment, but he can't look you in the eyes right now.

You see fit to fill the awkward silence with the tapping of your nails on the counter, and with a jolt of recognition, and something else far more intense below the belt, he realizes that you're tapping out the beat of the song.

He ignores your sharp gasp as he slams the refrigerator door perhaps a tad too hard. He doesn't have time to feel bad about startling you, though, not when he so desperately needs to be back in the confines of his office, away from the prying eyes of the team.

His sharp memory comes in handy as he calls upon the name of the song later that night, pretending to himself that he's only doing it because it's been stuck in his head. Not because every time he thinks of it, or rather, of you listening to it, his pants tighten slightly. He chooses youtube first, but something drags his thumb towards the spotify button instead, and he swallows the saliva that's suddenly pooled in his mouth when his suspicions are confirmed: you're listening to it, too.

At eleven-thirty at night, probably beneath the covers on your bed just like Aaron is, you're listening to a song about sex, and as he sinks a hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, he knows without a doubt that you're doing the same.

[gffa]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Watcher move and I get why they did it. I've kind of half-suspected something like this would happen, because I don't think their current business model is growing enough to make it profitable for them to keep the staff they have, not with the kind of videos they put out and they've been clear that they want this to be their livelihood and a genuine production studio. But the big production videos like this just cannot survive on YouTube, unless you're like Mr. Beast or a very few other creators. And the reason big production companies like Mythical or Smosh can survive on YouTube is because they're putting out videos EVERY DAY pretty much, they keep the average costs down. And even Mythical has talked about how their views have plateaued, Rhett and Link have talked repeatedly about how they're constantly trying new things and can't really pursue them if they're not a massive hit because they're beholden to only having resources for things that won't lose them money. It took them twenty years to get to a place where they could finally say, "Fuck it, we're doing what we want, because we're secure enough to take the hit, if it comes to that." Watcher in contrast is making more high level production shows, a lot of research into a single episode (rather than something that can be used for multiple episodes), expensive location shoots, etc. And so I think they looked to Dropout as a business model that might work for them. But the thing is that I'm not sure they have a strong enough roster to pull it off. Puppet History and Ghost Files are both hits, but I'm not sure any shows that aren't centered on Ryan and Shane have ever really taken off? Maybe Worth It or Dish Granted? Meanwhile, Dropout has the whole D20 lineup and Game Changer is a huge hit (also possibly Make Some Noise?)(I'm judging by how many shows I see cross my dash, which may not be the best metric, tbf) but they have a huge cast to work with and their model relies heavily on how much of the D20 stuff they put out in volume. So, I get why Watcher did this, in some ways, I kind of agree that it might have been the only move for them if they wanted to do this long-term. And I think it's important to them that, the whole reason they left Buzzfeed was because they wanted to do their own stuff, their own passion projects, rather than just what Buzzfeed deemed a viral hit. And their YouTube shows do mean being beholden to advertisers and only focusing on what will be as big a hit as possible, which is exactly what they wanted to get away from. I'm just not sure it'll work because they can't put out enough content that enough people would want to pay for. I kinda wish they'd gone the Mythical route instead, where they put up the behind the scenes stuff and special series on their own site and had tiers of membership for people who wanted to access them, while keeping the main shows on YouTube. (But I guess that's basically what they were doing with the Patreon exclusive videos and it must not have been a big enough draw to keep going the way they did.) I think they probably felt like this was the only route forward for them long-term, that it was either this or they would have to dissolve the company, but I'm just not sure I believe that it can work. I love the shows, but I'm not getting a subscription service for a roster of shows where I watch like three of the shows.

[formulaforza]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—05. Monte Carlo Ave. —word count: 9.3k —warnings: obvious implications of sex, no smut. club activities, so much fluff you'd wish you were dead. angst in the middle. love, mackie... so, just like chapter 4, there is a nsfw cut of this chapter whose link is embedded in the post. all nsfw warnings will be on that post. thank you for bearing with me while I took my sweet ass time writing this next part--there is no exaggerating how busy my life has become in the past couple months.

He wakes up at five-thirty-seven in the morning, exactly twenty-three minutes before his alarm is set to go off. Charles can’t remember the last time he was awake before his alarm, or the last time his alarm at home was set to go off before the sun rose. 

It was fear that woke him up—fear of waking her up. 

Her. Chris. His girlfriend, who is sound asleep next to him, in his bed, in his apartment, in his city. 

She’s a cute sleeper, he knew—he knew, because she’d fallen asleep on FaceTime calls half a dozen times, because he’d watched her for a nearly creepily amount of time in Abu Dhabi, when he couldn’t believe she was actually there. She’s a cute sleeper, and yet, the shine hasn’t worn off yet, because he still watches. 

She’d gone to bed in a hoodie from work and no pants, because, of course she had. Of course she had. She’s got one hand awkwardly craned under her pillow and another wrapped up in the comforter like it’s a finger trap, and her hair is messy, so messy and half-stuck to her cheek. It’s fucking adorable, and he feels so lucky. 

He gets nervous then, nervous that she’s going to wake up and he’s going to be staring and it’s going to be weird, so. Instead of continuing to ogle, he reaches for his phone from the nightstand, turns the volume all the way down and scrolls through social media pretending not to steal a glance every time she takes a deep breath or moves a muscle. 

It’s half an hour before she yawns awake, and he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to wake her up, after all. 

“Morning,” he says, clicks the power button on his phone and lets it fall face down on his chest. 

Chris smiles. “Morning,” she breathes, and leans over to kiss him. 

“Mmm,” he hums, pushes his index finger against her lips. “What happened to morning breath?” He asks. 

“Nope,” she speaks against his finger, threatens to bite it. He knows he wouldn’t stop her, but moves his finger anyway to kiss her properly, to let her smile out of it. “You’re stuck with me now, boyfriend and all that.”

“Gross,” he smiles. “I love it.”

She flops back against the mattress with a laugh, “What time is it?” she asks, leaning over to reach for her own phone. 

“Six,” he hums. She scowls at her lock screen. “We have plans at seven.”

“Oh?” She peruses, sits up to stretch properly, to yawn again and ruffle her hair and God, she is so beautiful. He might never get over it. 

“Padel…” he smiles, wonders if he’s about to get in trouble, to start their first fight as a couple at six in the morning on a Tuesday. He probably should have run this past her, he thinks, run all of it past her. He’d just gotten so caught up in the planning of it all. “...with my brothers.”

Her hands flop from her hair onto the comforter, landing with a soft thud on the padded fabric. When she looks at him, she’s still smiling, but her eyes are tired, confused. “Baby, what is padel?”

– – –

They cook breakfast together—well, Charles cooks breakfast. Chris spends the entire time leaning against the kitchen counter cradling her phone, watching a YouTube video on the basis of padel playing. Charles keeps leaning over her shoulder, plastic spatula in hand, and correcting the man in the video. That’s not what you do, he hums. They don’t know what they’re talking about. 

After the fifth comment in as many minutes, she turns to him with a chill-inducing glare. “I’m going to padel you upside the head,” she says, with a smile on her face—which only makes it that much more terrifying. He nods, steps back from her shoulder and returns to the crepes he’s butchering on the stovetop. 

– – –

“I have to know,” she asks, sat on the floor in the bedroom, in the limited space at the end of the bed, tying her shoes. “What was the plan if I didn’t pack workout clothes?”

“Eh,” he mutters, rifling through the hangers of sweatshirts hanging in his closet. “I would have put on you some of my clothes,” he continues, pulls his two best options down from the hangers and holds them up for her. One, a blue Ferrari crewneck. The other, gray, from his friend’s line. 

“You would have put me in your clothes,” she corrects his English, and if it was anyone else he’d find it insufferable. But he doesn’t, not with her, so he chuckles and his smile grows and he can feel his dimples. For the dramatics, though, he rolls his eyes. 

“Which one?” He asks, taking turns raising the two sweatshirts. 

“As tempting as the team kit is,” she laughs, and he tosses the gray one to her. He could have guessed the gray one, he thinks, but she’s surprised him more than once before. “Thank you,” she hums, pulling it over her head and carefully fixing the wisps of hair that fall from her ponytail when she does it. 

“Always,” he nods, holds a hand out to pull her to her feet.

– – –

Arthur and Lorenzo are already at the court when Chris and Charles arrive, attempting—and failing—to play a round of singles padel on the doubles court Charles had reserved for the morning.

Just as they approach, a shot ricochets off of Arthur’s racquet and flies past Lorenzo, colliding with the glass wall behind him with a thud. Lorenzo jogs after the ball, laughing, pointing at his brother in a sore act of celebration. 

Arthur is just as sore a loser. “Ah!” He calls out, gesturing with his own racquet to the tape that runs along the top of the net. “Filet!” Net!

Lorenzo blows air from his cheeks and scoffs, firmly bouncing the ball against the ground a few times before picking it up properly. “S'il te plaît!” Please!

“Mon pote, allez,” Mate, come on, Arthur groans. “Ça tremble encore!” It’s still shaking!

“Arthur, j'étais à trois mètres,” I was three meters away. 

Charles grins, pulls open the door to the court, holding it open for Chris to step in front of him. “Retiens ton feu,” hold your fire, he calls out to his brothers, “trouve ton anglais,” find your English.

Both boys' heads shoot over, scowls still apparent. “Do you see this? Do you see him run into this net?” Arthur shouts, still gesturing wildly with his racquet. 

“Do not let him convince you, you know what you saw,” Lorenzo interjects, carries on even though the game has been abandoned and they instead jog over to greet Chris and Charles. Lorenzo is first over, kissing either of Charles’ cheeks. “You saw this?” He asks, and Charles laughs, nods. 

“I did.”

“Bullshit,” he laughs, shoves Charles’ shoulder and turns to greet Chris. “You?”

Charles expects to find some apprehension on Chris’ face, something that shows she’s not sure of her place yet, but he doesn’t find any. Confidently, she speaks, “He’s crazy, you weren’t even close,” and then kisses each cheek. 

Lorenzo tosses his arm around Chris with a laugh. “Charles,” he speaks, points to her with the same hand that’s thrown over her shoulder. “My team.”

Charles chuckles. “I try not to make a habit of telling my girlfriend what to do.” Chris blushes at the very mention of it—girlfriend. If he knew it would be that easy to make her blush he would’ve asked weeks ago. He might’ve asked in Austin, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

“Oh-ho?” Arthur’s already teasing, clapping his hands on Charles’ shoulders and laughing like a madman. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Neither of them—Chris or Charles, say anything. Between the flush of her cheeks and the depth of his dimples, they might as well have it spray painted on their foreheads. “Right,” Lorenzo offers, “well, Chris, as the only person around here with some sense, you’re on my team.”

“You can have her,” Charles teases, Lorenzo quirks a brow. “She has no idea how to play, but also she is a rule master.”

“Abandoning your own girlfriend,” Chris interjects, the same teasing tone laced in her voice. She pretends to shiver, grand and dramatic, even though it’s eighteen degrees and sunny and she’s got long pants and a sweatshirt—his sweatshirt on. “It’s cold, man.”

He rolls his eyes, sticks a racquet in her hand and moves to kiss her, which is more than close enough to Lorenzo for him to abandon his position next to Chris, retreating to the safety of the court, bouncing the padel ball as he walks. “Ready to take us?” Charles asks quietly, just to her. Arthur is somewhere in the space behind him gulping a water bottle in an almost comical manner. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replies, half-chuckled, demeanor light and bouncy. There’s something about her that always seems full of energy, ready to take on whatever is put in front of her head-on.

“Don’t worry,” he practically whispers, winks and gives her shoulder a soft squeeze. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Chris clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, feigns offense and scoffs loudly, bringing the head of the racquet up to the center of his chest, pushing him back a few steps. “Don’t you dare.”

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, offering—practically promising—to let someone else win. There’s still a basket somewhere in a storage closet full of broken video game controllers from his childhood. And once, for three entire weeks when they were six and nine, he and Arthur weren’t allowed at the dinner table together because they would race to finish their food and promptly get sick. Then again, it is Chris, all bouncy ponytail and quick wit in his home in his clothes, so. Maybe it isn’t as far-fetched as it seems. 

As expected, it becomes apparent quickly that Chris is a beginner at a game the boys have spent years playing. She misses shots and struggles to find her footing and the best positioning, but it doesn’t crush her mood, dampen her energy. Lorenzo—her teammate, takes on quite a coaching role, offers an equal amount of encouragement and advice. 

She’s a quick learner, though. Charles knew she would be. So, despite the sound loss she and Lorenzo take in the first game, she manages a decent amount of solid shots and a spattering of genuinely impressive ones. She’s quick, that’s her advantage. She might not know what to do when she gets to the ball, but she always gets there. And, when she scores her first point, actually jumps into the air when she gives Lorenzo a high-five, he can’t help but find himself soft, a smile tugging on his lips, holding back on the points that follow in hopes of seeing her goofy grin again. 

“You did quite well out there,” he tells her when they’re between games. Her eyes light up and she hums around a mouthful of water, hurries to swallow it before she laughs. 

“Really?” She coughs, clears her throat. “You think?”

He nods. “You’re quick,” he mutters before taking a drink of his own water. 

“I ran track in high school.” He quirks a brow, which makes her smile, which makes him choke on a laugh mid-swallow. You’d think neither of them had ever had a drink from a plastic water bottle before. 

“Really?” She nods, hums her response, toying with her ponytail. Her bangs are loose, untucked from her ears and her hair-tie, and he feels the overwhelming urge to brush it from her face. “Why did I not know this?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Why didn’t you know that?”

“Google said nothing about this.”

“You Googled me?!” Briefly. Briefly, he had googled her at the very beginning of it all. Really, it was more Googling her family than it was her, they are the ones with all the information out there. He needed to make sure he wasn’t starting something with a raging white supremacist or a murderer. 

“You didn’t Google me?” She scratches the back of her head, not-so discreetly looks anywhere but her. “Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

With a playful eye roll, she promptly changes the subject: “you want to be on my team?”

“I…” he laughs, “...don’t know if we are there yet.”

“Oh,” She laughs, brows raised with a goofy smile and it’s official—her laugh is never going to not give him butterflies, never not going to be so much better in person. “The truth comes out.”

Chris is soundly defeated in three straight games, despite finding herself with a new teammate each round—first Lorenzo, then Arhur, and finally, after five minutes of her best puppy-dog eyes, the most competitive man alive ( her boyfriend) agreed to be her teammate. 

It’s hours later by the time they leave the country club—no, no, Charles said it was specifically a padel club. They part ways with his brothers and then they’re driving back through the winding streets to his apartment. She ogles, like she’s been doing since she got here, all the careful, intricate architecture and the perfectly manicured manner of the whole place. It’s like people don’t live here, like she’s in a made-up land. She latches onto every imperfection—a crack in the sidewalk, a shrub with a single projection, a half-ragged French flag on the stern of a super yacht. It makes it all feel human, lived in, like the place someone can grow up, the place he grew up. 

After two hurried showers and a change of clothes they set off for lunch at Charles’ self-proclaimed “favorite restaurant.” It’s a sushi place, which she finds interesting, because not once has she heard him talk about sushi when talking about his favorite foods. 

Charles parks in a garage that’s a fifteen minute walk from the restaurant because, as he puts it, she’s walking the streets with the nation’s best tour guide. He starts the tour with the middle three corners of the Grand Prix, in reverse order—the hairpin, mirabeau bas, and portier, and then they take the quarter-or-so mile walk to the first of many monuments that Chris wouldn’t even attempt to pronounce in her own head. It’s there, somewhere between the forced tourist photos he snaps of her at Le Pêcheur and the one at the Promenade Princesse Louise-Hyppolyte, the truth comes to light. 

“What do you mean you did not tell anyone you were here?!” He exclaims all dramatic-like, dropping the phone from in front of his face, abandoning the search for what he considers the perfect angle. “You left the country, Chris.” She shrugs, doesn’t really see the big deal in all of it. It’s not like she… no, it is like she purposely didn’t tell people. That’s exactly what it is, actually. 

“I thought we were keeping this on the down-low.”

“Not that low!” He scolds, but she can tell he wants to laugh. He should, she thinks. It’s funny. “What if you die?”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you planning on killing me?” He glares daggers, burns a you’re not funny look into her head. “Letting me be killed?” She’s sure it annoys him to no end, positive almost, but it’s not like she can go back in time and tell everyone, and even if she could, she’s not sure she would. She likes this being just theirs, at least for now, while they can still manage it. She likes not having to report back to her parents—to her dad, especially—about her hotshot, young punk racing driver of a boyfriend and the silver spoon he feeds her french delicacies with. 

He sighs, shoulders wildly heavy, and holds her phone back out to her. His eyes are soft, frustrated in a way she didn’t expect them to be. She really didn’t think it was that crazy of a decision. “You should have told someone,” he says, and she feels immensely guilty. 

“Hannah knows,” she blurts, an honest offer of anything she has to not get such a serious look from him. He’s not meant to be serious.

“Hannah knows?”

“She knows I went somewhere. I didn’t tell her where,” she says.  I didn’t tell her where because my brother and father don’t want me to date a race driver, she doesn’t say, because that would only make him more nervous. 

“You should have told someone you were here,” he says, drags out the vowel sounds and tosses an arm over her shoulder. He kisses her temple, pulls her into him and chuckles. Okay, okay. He’s not actually upset.

“Probably,” she nods, a smile pulling on the corners of her lips. “I can tell them when I get home, if you want. Start some drama over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure making a good impression will not be hard after that.”

MayaBay, that’s the name of his favorite restaurant, Thai and Japanese and a sushi bar that Charles talks about for the entire walk there. Apparently securing a reservation at the restaurant was hard enough, but a seat at the coveted sushi bar was something else entirely, and, according to Charles, was his first failed call after Chris’ visit was planned. She tries to tell him that it doesn’t matter where in the restaurant they eat, but he’s insistent that he’s going to try again and again, and again every time she comes to visit until he can manage to get them in. 

Her cheeks flush red at the revelation and she continues to hold out hope he’s oblivious to the heat that radiates from her face every time he meets her with some sort of compliment or insistence of inclusion. She doesn’t even think he’s conscious of the latter, which makes it all that more special. He doesn’t have to take special care to include her in his life, he just does it—does it like he’s always been doing it, always been sharing these small parts of his life with her. 

Lunch is enough to leave her full for the entire day. Po Pia Kung and Ceviche and Roti and Nigiri—two plates, no wasabi, per Charles’s request—and she’s worried that she’ll be full before getting the chance to lay eyes on their entrees. 

“This place is so special,” she tells him from across the tiny table, around the too-big centerpiece. “Thank you.”

He hums around a mouthful of Roti, brings a napkin to his mouth when he swallows so he can start talking that little bit sooner. “For what?”

Chris shrugs. Thank you… for. For. For everything, she supposes. “For wanting me here.”

He smiles, dimples digging deep, cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink when he adjusts in his seat, leans forward enough that it’s just barely perceivable. “Thank you for wanting to be here,” and you blush right back. 

It’s got to be quite the sight for any onlookers, the two of them acting all middle-school. They aren’t aware enough of the other people in the restaurant for it to be of note, and even if they were, they wouldn’t care. 

It’s Pad Thai for the main course with a side of three bites of Charles’ Kadou Yang stolen in the midst of quiet conversation, and then, as if they haven’t shared everything else already, they split the restaurant’s signature, meant to share dessert. 

“So,” he hums, somewhere on the walk back to the car—or, to the surprise Charles refuses to reveal that’s on the way back to the car. He swings their interlocked hands between their body, drags the action out in the same way he does the vowel. “When do I get to come to Georgia?”

It takes her by surprise, puts a kiddish smile on her face. It should be obvious that he would want to come, because, well, it’s where she lives. But, every conversation has always been about her coming to him. And it makes sense to her, because he’s always moving and she’s always in the same place. It makes sense that he wouldn’t come to her, but now that she thinks about it, it makes more sense that he would. “You want to come to Georgia?”

“That,” he laughs, “that is a silly question. Of course I want to.”

“Well, I mean. You’re always welcome, but I don’t know what your schedule looks like.” She knows it’s a mess, undoubtedly, even if she’s never laid eyes on it. She can only imagine the amount of people wanting him in places year round, and having all of that squished into a couple month period of time? She wouldn’t be surprised if he spends more time traveling in the offseason than he does when he’s actually racing. 

“I don’t know what it looks like, either,” he takes out his phone and clicks through half a dozen apps with his free hand—the one not intertwined with hers. “Uh…,” he chuckles at the screen like even he can’t believe just how in demand he is. “Next month I’m in Italy for some days, then France for Christmas and London for New Year.” Chris leans over to look at his calendar. 

“What about there?” She asks,  pointing to the block of dates that are empty between his color-coded trips to Italy and France. “My brother’s wedding is that weekend,” she says, and then realizes how crazy the proposition sounds and instantly attempts to retract it, “but you probably don’t want to go to that.”

She’d love more than anything to have him at Chase and Hannah’s wedding, but she can understand why he would want to do anything else. It’s one thing to make him travel all that way, but then to make him travel all that way for a wedding, where he’ll have to meet the parents and the siblings and dog—that’s just a cruel thing to imply is expected of him. It’s certainly no way to keep him wanting to come back for another visit. 

He bumps his shoulder against hers. “I love weddings.”

“Yeah?” She bumps back, dumb little smile on her face. “When you don’t know anyone there and your girlfriend is in the bridal party?”

He nods. “Yes.”

Unconsciously, she puts distance between their arms, to keep from getting too hot or to keep them from tripping or maybe for no reason at all because she really doesn’t notice that she does it. “My whole family’ll be there,” she continues meekly, and their arms are almost taught. 

“Good,” Charles scoffs, and pulls her right back to his side, like even an arm’s length is too far.  “I can fix the first impression you’re going to break.”

Chris rolls her eyes, both at his words and his actions—painfully endeared by both.  “Why are you so convinced I’m going to have something bad to say about you?”

“I’m not worried really about what you say, but your father is not going to like me if you say to him, ‘this is my boyfriend who I saw in two different countries without telling to you.’”

“Yeah,” she nods, bites back a laugh against the skin on the inside of her cheek. It shouldn’t be as funny as it is to her; the state of her life. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there,” she cuts the vowel short, chokes on a laugh, sucks in her own lips in an attempt to keep them from spilling, the laugh escaping silently through her nose. He meets her with a matching—no, a somehow dramatized mirroring—of her expression that only makes it that much harder not to laugh. When she finally does break, there are practically tears in her eyes, and it was never even that funny. 

He smiles at her laugh, like always, and shakes his head. “I will have to come to this wedding to do damage control.” 

“Probably,” she nods, still laughing. It’s like it’s all just sunk in for her—the boyfriend. The long distance boyfriend, as in, long distance. Whatever everyone else considers long distance, times the distance of the Atlantic Ocean and the average net worth of his hometown. The fact that he was a stranger just a few months ago, and now she’s in her second foreign country in three days with him and it all feels so normal. The fact that she didn’t even want to go on that Hot Lap—hot laps, plural— or that she didn’t have any interest in going to the race. If she’d tried just a little bit harder to get out of it, or stayed in the beer tent for just ten minutes longer or, or, or. It’s not funny at all, and yet it’s hilarious. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know this?”

“I know this.” She sighs, deep and slow and grounding, one stray chuckle slipping through her lips before she can continue. “Don’t book any flights, then—Until I make sure it’s all good with Hannah.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, salutes her with his phone still in his hand and everything.

“Okay, so,” Charles sighs, drops his head against the pillow with a soft plop. Lunch was hours ago, now, succeeded by a walk around the Japanese Gardens, a trip to the supermarket because his fridge is, as Chris so affectionately referred to it as—bachelor pad chic—and a personal tour around the Prince’s Car Collection where he got to show off his favorite memories. It’s after dinner, even. After half-stale pasta made by him and meal-saving chicken expertly prepared by her, after two episodes of a French reality show with English closed captioning, after a day he won’t soon forget. It’s then, in bed, while she reads the final pages of the book she’s been cutting away at for weeks now, that he tests his knowledge on the information he’s been quizzing her for afternoon. “Chandler is the oldest, and she’s dating Alexis.”

“Correct,” Chris says, turns the page on her book. 

“But the drama is that Alexis doesn’t like any of your family, so she and your sister moved away and don’t come to anything.” She hums her response this time, and he wonders if she’s even listening all that much or if he could get her to agree to anything right now. “And then Chase is in the middle, he’s marrying Hannah. But the drama is Hannah was—” before he can even get the next word out, she’s glancing over at him to interject. “Hannah is your best friend, and was before Chase dated her. And she has a little boy named Reid with a dickhead.”

“Yup.”

“And then you, my perfect little angel.”

She smiles at the pages of her book. He likes making her smile. “Don’t forget it.”

“Your parents are Bill and Cindy, short for… William and,” he pauses. She pauses. He has no idea what Cindy is short for. “Lucinda?” Chris blinks, hard, dog ears the corner of her page and shuts her book. If he didn’t already know it was a pretty shit guess, he sure knows it now. Sometimes a blink is worth a thousand and one words. 

“No,” she says, furrows her brows so subtly that it shouldn’t be recognizable, but it is. And then she blinks again. 

“I knew that,” he boasts, his best cocky tone and a matching smug expression on his face. “I was just testing you.”

She chuckles, leans to her right to set the book down on the bed-side table there. “On my own mother’s name?” She questions, tucking herself under the covers and scooching over, leaning against his chest comfortably. He would let her lie like this as long as she wanted. It’s so sweet to have her in his arms.

“Well, you call her ‘Mom,’” he explains, even down to the forced American accent when he says ‘Mom.’ “So maybe you did not know.”

“Cindy isn’t short for anything.”

“Like I said,” he twists her hair around his finger slowly, mindlessly, without any sort of purpose or intention. When she uses him like a pillow this way, he can always smell her shampoo. He’s been trying to place it for days now. Coconut, he knows—but there is something else there, too, something he can’t put his finger on.  “I know this.”

“Okay, continue then.”

“I will,” he says, lets the twirled hair fall from his finger and kisses her head with a smile on his face. “They have a dog called Beans that you call Beanie-Baby,” he pauses. “And the drama is, your parents do not like me.”

He can see the apples of her cheeks flare in his peripheral, a laugh stirring in her chest. “The drama is: there is no drama with them,” she says. “They’re all bark no bite.”

He adjusts underneath her, sighs all heavy and deflated because the thought of it—her family, her parents. It’s so fucking intimidating, it is. Because he knows how important they are to her, how highly she regards their opinion, even if she pretends that she doesn’t. He knows that it’s everything to her, and if he makes even a single mis-step he could ruin it all—their opinion, her opinion, all of it. And something in his gut, a pit in his stomach tells him that she’s already made a mis-step for him when she came over here without telling anyone she was coming. Why wouldn’t she tell anyone she was coming? “What do I even talk to them about?”

“I don’t know,” she says, adjusts to accommodate his adjustment, and eventually they’ll get properly comfortable. “Racing.”

“We race in different cars.”

“But it’s all cars.”

He opens his mouth to speak, pauses, clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and then finally, “it’s different.”

“I think you’re overreacting a bit, here,” she says, and he rolls his eyes. He’s not overreacting, she’s underreacting. “I get along with your Mom and your brothers and I don't know what anyone is saying half of the time.” Okay, okay, maybe she has a point there. He did kind of throw her to the wolves this week—not that his family are wolves, just. Meeting the parents before the relationship is even a relationship is. It’s just messed up for him to do, and she’d handled it gracefully, perfectly and flawlessly charmed everyone. 

But then again. “Yeah, but you’re you.” Anyone would be charmed by her. She’s very charming. 

“And you’re you.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.” She can’t possibly understand it because he doesn’t even properly understand it, the way he feels about her. The fear he feels about losing all the indecipherable feelings. It’s just good, everything about her, about being near her. It’s all so sweet and nice and good and he really, really doesn’t want to screw it up.

“You’ve already met my Dad,” she starts, clearly trying to calm him down, to ease his nerves. “My brother is just like him but more annoying,” she laughs, and even though he’s half deflated, her laugh still puts a weak smile on his face. “My sister probably won’t speak to you, and my Mom loves anyone that calls her ma’am and tells her she looks young. Just don’t talk about racing with her.”

“You just told me—”

“With the boys,” Chris clarifies.

“Your Mum doesn’t like Chase racing?”

“Does yours?” Good point. Is there a mother on the face of the planet, over all of history, that loved the idea of their kid racing other kids around high speed corners without any regard for their own lives?

“Then why did she let him?”

“I’m sure the same reason yours let you. Dad’s can be very convincing.”

His stomach drops. “Yeah. Yeah, they can be. My dad was.” His fingers trace mindless circles on the skin of her arm, soft and warm and clean. His eyes focus on the little red light on the bottom of his television, the one that’s only on when the TV is off. “He would spend so much time at the karting track with my brothers and I, you would not believe it. Sometimes my Mum would say that we lived there and should take blankets to sleep in the karts,” He says, and Chris laughs, makes him aware of his tracing fingers, but doesn’t stop them. “She would always say to us, ‘be careful, drive slow,’ and my Dad would always say ‘be careful, have fun.’ Now Mum will say to us just to be careful.”

“Did your Dad drop the ‘have fun,’ too?”

Red Light. Soft skin. He knew it was coming, it’s always coming, only a matter of time before he had to tell her. Honestly, he’s surprised it had gone this long, that she hadn’t asked about his father the moment she met the rest of the family and he was absent. He can’t stomach the look of pity she’ll give him. She can take it from everyone else, always had—but the image of that look on her face, the dead dad look. He never wants her to look at him like that. 

Red light. Stupid shapes. “No, uh,” he drags out his own words, putting off the inevitable by even a few more moments. “My father died when I was a teenager.” 

At least he knows her google search of him months earlier wasn’t too in-depth. “Oh my God, Charles,” She says, voice quiet and soft, like she thinks her words will break him. They won’t. He wishes she knew they won’t. 

“No,” he chuckles, kisses the top of her head. “No. Don’t look at me like that,”

“I’m not,” she protests, but he doesn’t have to look at her to confirm. Nobody is above the look of pity. 

“You are.”

“You’re not even looking at me,” she says, sits up off his chest. He keeps his eyes on the red light. “Look at me,” she insists, a soft hand on his jaw, pulling him back to her. 

He rolls his eyes before he looks, before there’s an eternity of silent eye contact because she doesn’t have the look on her face. Anyone can tell she feels bad, especially him, but it’s different. It’s different, and he doesn’t feel like some pathetic puppy in a cold corner. He doesn’t feel like a nineteen year old who’s world is in shambles. He just feels like him. Like it’s all okay. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” she finally speaks, and he hears it now. She doesn’t think he’s going to break, that’s now why she’s meek. She feels guilty, guilty that she brought it up, that she didn’t know, that he thinks she would ever think he would break.

“How would you?”

Sincere in her apology, in her guilt, she doubles down. “I’m still sorry.”

Her eyes are filled with something pure, some innocent kind of affection and he feels awful that she feels awful. “I’m sorry for going on about him.”

“I’ll listen as long as you want to talk.”

He smiles, a genuine laugh falling from his lips. “I can talk forever.”

“Then,” she smiles, leans over to kiss him before getting comfortable again, snuggling into his chest like before. “Tell me all about him.”

They sleep late the next morning. Maybe they’re adjusting to the timezone—unlikely, especially in Chris’ case—or they were just up to late talking, but Chris is stretching against the sheets, against Charles, just after nine.

It’s no surprise that she wakes up tangled in a mess of limbs, not even something she minds. Even with her hand asleep and painfully tingley. She knows that she won’t get to wake up like this tomorrow morning, or the morning after, or every morning for at least a month, so. She doesn’t mind the heat and the sleeping limbs and the threat of a knot in her shoulder. 

She wiggles out from his grip without waking him, grabs her phone from the bedside table and checks the time. She scans the room, eyes floating over all of her things scattered about. She should start packing up, she thinks. Start packing and getting ready to leave. 

She tiptoes across the room, around the corner into the bathroom to start there, far away from his sleeping body. Quietly, carefully, she brushes her teeth, washes her face and tugs a brush through her hair, tying it back into a ponytail. Slowly, she gathers her stuff—makeup and hair tools and skincare—and packs it away carefully into her toiletries bag. 

When she comes back into the bedroom, still cringing with every creak of the floor under her feet, she finds Charles awake in bed, soft, sleepy smile when she turns the corner. “Come back to bed,” he’s pleading before she can even mutter a good morning. 

“I have to pack,” she argues half-heartedly, because she wants nothing more than to climb back into bed, and his voice is no help—all hoarse and raspy with sleep. 

“Why?” He asks, drags the letter sounds out into a yawn that makes her smile. 

“Because,” she says, draws out the e-sound to tease his cadence. “It’s almost nine-thirty, and I'm leaving in two hours.”

“You don’t have two hours of stuff,” he protests. 

“I don’t like to be late,” she continues over her shoulder, opening her suitcase and laying it flat on the floor at the end of the bed, readjusting the still-folded clothes she hadn’t ended up wearing. 

“Well,” he says, stretches against his sheets and then he’s getting out of bed with another yawn. “Let me help you, then.”

He steps around her open suitcase carefully. There isn’t exactly a surplus of floorspace for him to find his footing in. He disappears into the bathroom, locks the door behind him while she continues to gather her things, reappearing ten minutes later. “Give me a kiss,” he says, trudging over to her with open arms. 

“You’re so needy this morning,” she quips, slinking her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. He hums against her lips in agreement and the vibration makes her giggle into his mouth. 

Chris makes an attempt to return to the task at hand, but he has different plans, and follows around right behind her. His arms wrap around her torso everytime she stills for even a moment and he hugs her from behind, kisses her shoulders and her neck and her hair. 

“You make it hard to pack,” she tells him, and he laughs into the crook of her neck. What she really means is: you make it hard to leave. 

“Come back to bed.”

“I want to,” she sighs, leans back against his body.

He turns with her so they’re facing the bed. “It is right there,” he says, and she groans. “Look at it, all warm and comfy.” He’s right, the sheets look so soft, the pillows so fluffed. It’s a bed begging to be slept in, to be lounged on, to be snuggled by. 

She wiggles from his grasp, backs away from him towards the door and makes a challenge that she knows she has no intention of winning; “We can go back to bed,” she starts, still inching further away from him, further away from the bed, “if you can catch me,” and then she bolts. 

Chris’ high school claim to fame might have been that she was an all-state track and field athlete, but she’s got nothing on her boyfriend, who’s made a career out of his reflexes. It’s all pants and squeals and laughs that go on for entirely too long. 

She realizes that she’s trapped when they’re stood on opposite sides of his dining room table, and she couldn’t be the least bit bothered. She tries to fake him out, to move left and then right, but he predicts the move before she even makes it, catches her with a strong grip around her waist and lifts  her off her feet, carries her into the bedroom and tackles her onto the bed. 

click here for the nsfw cut

Chris’ flight leaves Nice at 12:30 pm, and then it’s a two and a half hour layover in Amsterdam, until finally, she lands in Atlanta long after sunset. She Ubers home and by the time she’s flopping down onto her couch, it’s almost eleven. Charles is the only call she makes before crashing. Then again, who else would she call? He’s one of two people who knew she was anywhere but home, and the only one who’d made her promise to call—despite the time difference and the Uber delay—with the threat of calling the first Georgia police number he could find on google to report her missing. 

He answers on the third ring, voice with the same rasp of that morning. “Hello?”

“Hi,” she speaks through a yawn, lays the phone beside her ear on the couch cushion and leaving it on speaker. 

“Hey,” he laughs, and she can perfectly hear the smile on his lips. She can almost feel it, the way the room reacts to it. 

“You gave me a hickey,” she says, fingering the bruise that lies an inch above her collarbone. His giggle on the other end is loud and boyish—particularly teenager-ish. 

“So, you made it home safe?”

“Well, if you ignore the vampire bruise on my neck.”

“Sorry,” he says, but he’s still laughing like a little kid. 

“It’s not funny,” she warns, thinly veiled because even she can hear the tired laugh at the back of her throat. 

“It’s a little funny.”

Chris rolls her eyes. “I have to see my entire family tomorrow!”

“Eh,” he hums, and just like the smile, she can see the shrug. She can see him so well it’s like he’s here or she’s there or that they’re somewhere together. Somewhere that doesn’t really matter, because they’re both there, smiling and laughing and shrugging. God. God, she already misses him so much. “They already don’t like me.”

“Charles!” She scolds, but she’s laughing now, too.

“I’m sorry,” he smooths. “I am. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know,” Chris sighs, pokes her own neck. “I’m not upset, I’ll just have to whisk it all morning.”

He chuckles. “You have to do what?” 

“You know, like. For eggs…or baking. A whisk,” with every word that leaves her mouth, another letter is types into her phone’s search bar. Google Translate: whisk.  “Le fouet?”

“Le fouet??” He questions with a tone that would make her think she’d called him a slur. “I do not think that is right.”

“Le fouet à…” she trails off, debating internally over the pronunciation of the words in front of her. “How do you say the ‘o’ and the ‘e’ when they’re together?” She asks, butchers it before he has the chance to give her any answer. “Œufs?”

“I have no idea what you are telling to me.”

“Telling you,” Chris corrects. “What I’m telling you.”

“Oh, mon dieu,” he groans. “This is sad. We can talk in the morning.”

“Okay,” she nods, yawns again. It’s long past her bedtime, and she has no idea how many hours now she’s been awake for. It’s gotta be going on twenty or more, surely. Surely. 

“Thank you for calling me,” he says, softly, genuinely grateful for the call. She’s grateful he’s grateful. It’s sweet, all the little things he does to show he cares. The way he does most of them without realizing it. 

“Thank you for wanting me to call.”

last chapter masterlist next chapter

[fullsunised]

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐌! : 𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗖𝗞!

donghyuck refuses to sleep to watch your new mv after release even if he has schedule early in the morning.

genre; fluff

trigger warnings; none

a/n: bro this was meant to be for gojox inspired by how he stayed awake for amanai but uh I changed it to a hyuck imagine.

"donghyuck, you have schedule at 3 tomorrow"

the said boy just nodded his eyes on the TV. "It's okay, I can wake up", he added insisting. you heaved a sigh at your boyfriend who was being stubborn. he could just watch it tomorrow to be fair, but apparently he doesn't want to- he said he wants to be the first one to view your mv, which clearly isn't possible because your lovely fans might be faster. who knows how many people are pulling a night out just to watch your new MV release. 

hyuck knew that, that's why he wanted to be first, be your biggest supporter, he was even planning to stream your video a few more times before he falls asleep for tomorrow. and if the song was genuinely good, which it will be, he might as well give up his sleep to listen to it all night. you knew he was good with keeping himself awake- but that was when he was properly rested the previous days, which right now wasn't the case, cause he didn't have not even a proper wink of sleep for the past week due to his group having a comeback.

"My love, you can wake up and watch it tomorrow. you need to sleep", you softly whispered sitting next to him. hyuck turned to you, his heart melting at the nickname you called him. he loved it when you did that, cared for him like there was no one else that mattered to you. honestly, hyuck wanted to give up staying up, but that would ruin his goals to be your biggest supporter. so he shook his head, even though it hurt him by saying no to you. "Why do you think your company sent you home early, for you to sleep well. look at you", you clicked your tongue unimpressed. 

the tanned chuckled softly, resting his head on your lap. you sighed again, giving up. running your fingers through his hair, you too watched the screen. hyuck was stubborn in his own way, which you always assumed was good for him, but not today, he was being unreasonable right now. would he rather be half sleepy all morning during pre recordings? no one would want that but apparently hyuck does.

he turned to look up at you, smiling at your upset expression. "It's okay baby. I can sleep tomorrow, I won't be able to watch it tomorrow after your MV is at like 100M views"

"You definitely can, it's just that you don't want to"

he leaned in capturing your lips. sighing into the kiss, you gave in. he knew kissing you would definitely make you weak just like how he melts when you care for him. there was still fifteen minutes until 12AM. "I'm gonna tell my company to release my songs in the morning", you snicker using the remote to play youtube.

the two of you watched some random videos to make up for the time, until there were two minutes left. hyuck grabbed the remote from you playing the countdown for your mv. he was already sitting up, eagerly leaning forward from his seat, so much that if leaned a little more, he'd fall face first on the floor.

to be fair, you were looking forward to watching it as well, all that hard work you put into making the song, learning the choreography and all that. the screen read a timer of 2 minutes, instantly hyuck grabbed your hand and wiggled it around, really excited clearly. you let out a soft chuckle, the timer turning 30 seconds.

the volume was pushed to the maximum with no regards for your neighbours, hyuck now on the floor closer to the TV, while you were where you sat when the video premiered. there was three minutes of silence, with him being completely involved in the song, while you mentally contemplated if he liked it or not. after the song ended, hyuck turned to you, breaking into a wide ear to ear smile. 

you let out a relieved sigh while your boyfriend jumped up and down replaying the song again. "You heard it once, let's get to sleep", you stated turning off the TV. pouting hyuck followed you to your bedroom. "I wanted-"

"You're not gonna, my love", you firmly stated falling onto the bed and patting the space next to you. the tanned fell by your side, burying his head in your chest. you wrapped your arms around him and kissed the top of his head. hyuck smiled to himself quickly falling asleep for the two hours he had left. 

©️FULLSUNISED.

[red-velvet-0w0]

Erins list of media recomendations

Are you bored and looking for a new show to get into?

Did you follow me for one specific fandom and now have no idea what 90% of my posts are about?

Well look no further!

here is a list of a bunch of really cool media (of various genres/mediums) that I love and you might love too! (these are mostly going to be smaller fandoms/media that i dont think gets the attention they deserve):

Hello From the Hallowoods (podcast): My beloved! if you are a fan of Malevolent or TMA, and want other queer eye themed horror podcasts, this is my #1 recomendation. It is by far my favorite podcast of all time, and needs way more love then it gets. its currently still releasing episodes and is on its 4th season (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a scattered group of survivors of an apocalypse known as "the black rains" fight to survive in a strange and magical forest, as an all seeing god watches from afar)

Witherburn After School News (podcast): Another great underappreciated queer podcast. its still releasing episodes and is currently still in its first season. Though there are supernatural elements, the story remains far more grounded and interested in the ordinary lives of the people. Gives a lot of the same vibes of season 1 TMA, but if instead of the statements being the focus, the characters were given the spotlight while the supernatural stories loomed in the background (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a young reporter in a small town decides starts an afterschool radio show, where she discusses the goings on around town, and takes it upon herself to investigate the dissapearences of children that the police refuse to acknowledge)

Aurora Webcomic (webcomic): A webcomic made by OSP Red herself! the art and storytelling is phenomanal, and all of the characters are impecibaly written. it is currently in its second arc, and regularly releasing 3 pages a week. (also fun fact its where i got the name erin from) (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a demigod must rescue his master from a god-stealing witch before she is able to use his soul to end all life on earth. along the way he meets up with a cast of colorful characters, each with their own quests, who decide to band together to save the world)

Nova Drift (video game): did you ever play that old Asteroids video game back in the day? did you ever wonder what it would be like if it was instead a fast paced bright neon roguelike where you massacred everybody who stood in your path with high tech machinery? well nova drift has you covered! its a ton of fun and increadibly addicting, with tons of complexity and endless replayability

Epithet Erased (indie cartoon): If wordplay was a series. it was created by the youtuber JelloApocalypse based off of a rpg campaign he played with friends. Though its artstyle is relatively simple due to its low budget, the limits put upon the animation allow it to find new and creative ways to tell its story. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): In a universe where people have words tied to their souls that grant them powers, 6 people must battle it out in a museum for control over an ancient artifact)

The Wandering Inn (web fiction): another one of the reasons I go by Erin! though I honestly really need to catch up with it, I highly recomend the wandering inn if youre interested in more long-form stories. It is currently on volume 10 (i think im not sure) and each volume is longer then the last. If youre a fan of storys with hundreds of characters and shifting viewpoints youll love it. otherwise you should run in fear because you will not be able to remember half of the characters by volume 2. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): A chess prodigy from earth named Erin Solstice suddenly finds herself transported into an RPG style fantasy world with magic, classes, and levels. to survive, she decides to become a bartender)

Bigtop Burger (indie cartoon): If youre a fan of absurdist comedies, this is the show for you. Its made by the youtuber Worthikids and just finished its second season. its incredibly short and can be binged in its entirety in just over half an hour. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a clown themed food truck attempt to sell burgers, while fighting with their rival food truck, and slowly realizing that their boss is not who they thought he was)

Kid Vampire (indie cartoon): much like Bigtop, KV is a simple and charming show with not much more going on. if your looking for some fun fluffy stories about some kids having fun, id recomend it, but if your looking for something more serious you might want to look elsewhere. Its made by the youtuber Mummy Joe, and is actively releasing episodes. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a vampire child named Kid Vampire is sent to go to school with humans to kill them and steal their blood, but ends up making some new friends instead.)

Those are nowhere near all of my favorites, but id highly recomend you check at least 1 out! I adore all of these and if I can get even 1 more person to become a fan, ill consider that a win!

[thebroccolination]

KRIST CAN’T LIE AND IS RIDICULOUS ABOUT SENPAI: VOLUME #39,573

In 2019, Singto starred in He’s Coming to Me opposite Ohm Pawat. It’s really underappreciated, and I highly recommend it. Singto is the cutest ghost in the whole afterlife.

Now, for additional context:

In early 2019, Singto was twenty-four, Krist was twenty-three, and the World of BL was Different. Branded pairs were a thing, but not like they are now.

SOTUS in 2016 saved GMMTV from bankruptcy and changed the industry. As I understand it from interviews with Krist and Singto as well as accounts from fans who were there at the time, although KristSingto were staggeringly popular, GMMTV saw SOTUS, Krist, and Singto as individual cash cows. BL wasn’t a money-printing hashtag-focused influencer lifestyle yet, so GMMTV seemed to hedge their bets. They made a thousand SOTUS events, pressed Krist into Leading Lakorn Man where the stable, dependable money was at the time, and kind of let Singto do whatever. Plus, Krist and Singto had different managers (Yui for Krist and Jane for Singto) and different interests and goals as far as their careers: Krist loves music, Singto loves photography, Krist wanted to be a musician, Singto wanted to be a director, Krist wanted to branch out into new areas of entertainment, and Singto wanted to study directing in California. They were able to be KristSingto: Kings of Couples, while exploring their talents and aspirations outside the growing expectations of a branded pair.

In an interview with Attitude in 2018 to promote their episode of Our Skyy as Kongphob and Arthit from SOTUS, Krist and Singto said they’d follow GMMTV’s direction as far as their series went from then on.

But Krist didn’t have to be happy about some of those directions.

One of the first things I learned about Krist as a person is that he was very, very vocally possessive of Singto when he was younger.

Go search “KristSingto jealous” on YouTube and enjoy the feast. They were both possessive, but where Krist utilized pouting and looking generally miserable, Singto would just calmly and physically remove people from Krist’s vicinity.

When Friendzone aired in 2018, Krist famously told interviewers with a maybe, possibly, half-joking sulking smile that he didn’t want to watch the series because he didn’t want to see Singto with other men.

(And then interfans disingenuously edited and recontextualized the clip so it would seem like he said he didn’t want to watch men kissing men…y’know, the thing he’s famous for. And proud of. And won’t stop telling people about. For years. Mr. “Please Let Me Play the Top” Mr. “Please Tell GMMTV You Want to See KristSingto in Another Series Together” Mr. “This Man’s Lap Is My Pillow and So Is This Man’s and This Man’s” Mr. “Please Ship Me and Gun” Mr. “I Asked Off for Permission to Sexy-Dance with His Husband”—mmmm.)

Now, before I show this clip, I just want to say that this was years ago and Krist has always loved Ohm—he’s just ridiculous about Singto. You thought I was exaggerating the “sulking and looking generally miserable” thing, didn’t you?

Seriously, go watch some things on YouTube. With popcorn.

[And before you think this was just a Krist issue, Singto one thousand percent encouraged it by openly thinking it was cute.]

[Prachaya, stop tormenting the turtle.]

Like, this isn’t a shipping thing, and he’s (mostly) grown out of it now. Krist is just very, very affectionate with his friends and seems to be sincerely afraid of being left behind. Famously, to make himself cry for the scene between Kongphob and Arthit in the Our Skyy episode, Krist imagined how he’d feel when Singto inevitably left Thailand to study abroad. (He ended up crying early and way harder than the script called for, and Kongphob’s surprise is at least a little bit Singto’s genuine reaction.)

Plus, y’know, Krist is and always has been a fiery babygirl of impulse, Singto is Senpai, and just. Even though their relationship is platonic, there’s a reason everyone thought they were dating in 2017, and there’s a reason that even as recent as 2021, Singto and Krist were both complaining that no one took them seriously as dating prospects because everyone still thought they were dating. In fairness, they’ve both been single since SOTUS, and they’re both ridiculous about each other, so there you go. Blame the victims. Wheeeee~ #SelectiveVictimBlaming2024

Anyway! In 2018, at what I think was GMMTV’s showcase for their 2019 lineup, Krist and Singto were together onstage, unmic’d, just standing there representing their respective, separate series.

For some reason (probably) lost to time, Krist turned to Singto and said, “I hate Qingming,” the shortened title for He’s Coming to Me.

Smiling, Singto said, “Not now. We’re working.”

Krist doubled down and said, “I don’t like it.”

In the longer clip, Krist kept sulking and Singto smiled at him with open amusement. Like I said: he fully thought it was cute and did the bare minimum to discourage it, because he’s ridiculous too.

Later, at the fan greeting, Krist was doing the typical, “Please support me and P’Sing in our projects this year,” and a giddy fan called out, “BUT YOU HATE QINGMING THOUGH HUH.”

This is where someone more adept at lying would say, “Of course not, kind fan, for I am always supportive of Senpai’s other series. I am a mature paragon of self-esteem and in no way extremely possessive of My Senpai Who Is Mine.”

Instead, this happened:

“HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT.”

WKDLSJDKSJ

K R I S T

So yes, Krist can’t lie. He’s never been able to lie. He’s pure honesty and deep sincerity and high emotion all the time.

Now, once again, he was twenty-three, he was just being a brat for brat’s sake, and he never had an issue with Ohm. He was probably just afraid he wouldn’t get to work with Singto anymore since Singto was always very open about his intentions to study abroad and then transition to behind-the-scenes work as a director, so the longer GMMTV went without giving KristSingto a series, I imagine the less likely it probably seemed to Krist, who really wanted to act with Singto again and did not shut up about it for years.

This has been Krist Can’t Lie and Is Ridiculous About Senpai: Volume #39,573.

[This is a whole other story. Have a great day.]

[amaribelt]

malleus draconia and the pipe organ and why i love it

so. this is going to be a long post and thats because i have to basically tell you the entire history of the pipe organ and how this relates to malleus 'very scary' draconia. i am extreamly sorry but their will be a summary at the end if you just dont care but it would mean alot if you listen to this ramble of mine

CW: lots of mentions of religion churches and cathedrals one cult mention and some book 7 spoilers

-PART ONE TOCCATA AND FUGE IN D MINOR

Pipe organs are everywhere, from weddings and baseball games but one of the most common places to hear an organ is horror movie scoring, from youtube videos of creepy organ music to its first use in a movie doctor jeckle and mr hyde and other arrangements in things like phantom of the opera pipe organs have almost become one with fear dread and horror witch is quite odd with its religious connotations that we will get to in a second.

the pipe organ originated from greece its earliest predecessors are from the 3RD CENTURY BC, these things are quite quite old and required a lot of man power to play before technology. a pipe organ is a piano on steroids it has a bunch of connecting pipes and all of these pipes have different stuff in them to give it a variation of sound sometimes their are reeds like in woodwind instruments and sometimes their are those cut outs from things on recorders. whenever an organist plays a key wind goes through the pipes to make a sound, back in the day air was supplied though enslaved people but now we have electric moters attached to our pipe organs but because of how big pipe organs are it would take many people to get all the air needed to play these things, the Winchester cathedral organ took 2 people to play it and 70 men to blow air into it and the sound from said organ can be heard from throughout the city.

pipe organs are not small and dainty these are MASSIVE instruments that construction has to bend around to make space for all of the organs equipment their are rooms whose sole purpious is for the function and upkeep, organs are an absolute monster of an instrument not only in volume but in the sound they make some of these tones cant be picked up by *human ears* the atlantic city convention hall has a pipe that is 64 feet (19.5072 meters) and that is FOUR AND A HALF STORIES TALL.

-PART 2 BACH, CHURCHES AND HOW ORGANS WORK

not only are these things massive their are petals on the bottom that organists have to PLAY their is music solely for the foot keys their are 3 rows of manuals (keys) and stops (things you pull out to control a selection of pipes and thats where 'pulling out all the stops' came from you are going to 100 percent) and so their is a lot of skill that goes into playing an organ. so unless your like an octopus and have 8 arms or your just insane (just kidding i love you organists) playing the organ was hard

NOW THIS IS WHERE BACH COMES IN, basically one day bach watches into a church with their organ takes a prewritten melody and improvise an 8 part harmony so for non music nerds he went up to an organ started playing the pre written music and off the TOP OF HIS HEAD created 7 other melodies that he had to play with both his HANDS AND FEET. and you wanna know why this is so damn cool, it was almost impossible for organists to practice as theirs nothing that sounds quite like an organ and pianos werent invented yet so if you wanted to practice your organ playing then you were going to need a team of people just to get the air to play and then your scales are going to be heard by everyone in the town. so anyone who could play the organ were hyper privlaged music genius types, because no one would hear them practice on an organ let alone a harpsichord they just show up one day and start playing. thats the kind of person an organist is

those glorified harmonicas that were portable organs werent what people were playing on they would be playing on the organs that were so big they had to be built around by architechs, this is where the church comes in. the fact that you couldnt move them made them great for churches cathedrals and religious establishments and because of how big these were churches were the only ones with the money to fund these organs. theirs a phycology behind it too because these instruments are so big so powerful that the only person that could fulle these endeavors are god himself. so if you could play the organ you were some loner freak of nature who is one of the only people who could handle this machine

-PART 3 JECKLE HYDE AND JESUS

sooo way back at the top i mentioned its first use in jeckle and hyde were picking up that thread again because this is where this comes into play, so in the opening credits of the movie they played toccata and fuege in D minor. (the song i linked in the very top) but following that we get a scene of jeckle playing another peice by Bach  Ich ruf zu dir Herr Jesu Christ (i call to you lord jesus christ) Herr Jesu Christ is originally in F minor but they transposed it to be in the same key as tocatta and feuge they did this not only to show they put thought and care into how these two peices would sound back to back on screen but they did it as musical shorthand

they are using a religious peice of music and instrument to show what kind of character this is, these are gigantic powerful pieces of instruments with heavy religious connotations, i swear we are getting malleus i just need to keep explaining a little more just keep this all in your mind and compare it to what we know about malleus and what other people VIEW the being that is malleus draconia. 3 years after the film jeckle and hyde we get toccata and fuege in another horror movie the black cat, this time played on an actual organ this movie follows a cult leader who plays an organ notably the track that is now associated with villainous characters due to its use in jeckle and hyde. throughout the black cat we hear other organ pieces throughout the film we are no longer looking at religious organ music in the pure and fluffy way it was originally used in churches now we are hearing a sick and twisted use of the organ being used to celebrate satanic cults all of the religious imagery has been corrupted it has had a quite literal fall from grace.

in carnival of souls our main character is in a sort of purgatory and throughout the film she plays guess what an organ for the church. over time shes not able to keep up with the holy and religious music the church expects her to play as her playing goes into something erie and haunting that upsets the minister, as she looses her connection to the living world she cant play the religious music on the organ and thats haunting to the people around her. it isnt the organ thats scary but whos playing it. this man has channeled the power of god in the power of his own home to play this holy instrument and because of the nature of the organ organists have to spend lots of time alone and praticing multiples times a week so they dont sound awful think of this with a religious background all of the power of a god but not pure intentions

-PART 4 MALLEUS DRACONIA

ohh boy we finally made it to malleus draconia this essay of a tumblr post is quite latterly lagging down my laptop but i have a LOT to say. i feel like a lot of people misinterpret malleus as a character due to the fact that hes been a shadow looming over us in the main story although its implied that the character Yuu knows malleus on a much deeper and its implied they spend lots of time together its important to know that we as the audience and the reader dont get to see that, we are purposely being withheld information about him and that adds to the ominous aura he gives off to not only students in NRC but also us as the viewer, we *know* theirs a different side to malleus that we can see in vignettes but thats only a sneak piece into the multilayered cake that is malleus draconia.

somewhere it was revealed that malleus' threateneing aura was a blessing and i dont remember where i saw it but i swear i saw it on a chapter 7 translation so if anyone knows what im talking about please let me know, because of this he has been 'cursed' to be feared by all humans and respected by all fae to the point they treat him and anyone in the draconia family as a GOD. (see heres that religious mention again) i don't want to say malleus has a god or superiority complex but the people around him certainly do see him as superior due to his family heritage and the fact that hes one of the top 5 mages at such a 'young' age (for fae standards) and due to his magical status and what his family has done for the biar valley other are not only put off by him he has that intimidating aura curse thing that makes other people who arent fae put off and avoid him. something that was ment as a blessing has only caused more sorrow for malleus as people isolate him, he has so few opprotunities to have a social life.

its heavily implied (i swear it said it somewhere im just tierd its 11:55 at night as of writing) that music is an important part of fae culture, lilia has a tallent for multiple instuments and can supposedly sooth crying infants. malleus' humming is overlayed durring his spell when he overblots and in lilias dream we hear his mom singing so its all heavily implied that music is important to fae in twisted wonderland just like it is in our real life folklore.

we see malleus play the organ at the end of the endless halloween event and although theirs one line that suggest that malleus has a bit of trouble not everyone is able to improv on an organ like bach did, we still see him play in the twistune although we dont hear it but its implied that malleus can play the organ(we hear like one bit of the opening but we dont hear it during the song but the like 3 seconds are good so)

it makes perfect sense for malleus to play the organ its an instrument that requires alot of isolation and dedication to master lest you have the whole city know you cant play, the godfearing loyalty of fae in the briar valley who treat the draconia family like gods and the humans so afraid of them they avoid them like the plague. the religious connotations of the organ with the twisting of that religious imagery all line up so well with malleus draconia as a character. the twisting of a once holy instrument into something horrid and demonic just fits with malleus so well i wish it was all intentional but i know im giving too much credit where its not due as this is just the unhindged hyper fixated ramblings of a teenager.

-TLDR </333

the pipe organ has lot of religious connotations and has often flipped those one its head to give a spookey vibe in horror movies witch is why pipe organs have become a holy wood go to for a evil character. these instruments are so expensive and require to much work to put into them characters associated are offten high class and loners preferring to keep to themselves, sometimes their is a religious aspect to the character and that correlates with their playing of the organ. malleus draconia is viewed by many as a god has a terrifying aura to him and is prown to isolation by his peers.

giving the twst devs to much credit is the name of my game as i see too much symbolism in things where theirs not

thank you for reading especially if you read all of it i love you alot<333333333333333333333333333333333333333

[agentplutonium]

"After a Long Day" Headcanons

I'm bored, sick, and thinking about a brief conversation that me and @penncilkid had the other night, so here's a list of different redacted bois coming home after a long day.

I'm not gonna do all the redacted bois, but here are the ones that are in this post: Milo, Asher, David, and Guy

Milo is always about physical contact. He usually uses this tactic for when Sweetheart is working too hard, but he loves being able to hold his mate close at any moment. When he's had a hard shift, he wouldn't even say anything to Sweetheart before dragging them to the couch and trapping them there. This always amuses Sweetheart. They would spend this time talking at to Milo, finding any way to kiss any part of him. There would be nothing going on, just Sweetheart's soft voice, their hands and lips against his skin, and the love that he feels for them.

Asher seeks out comfort foods when he gets home from a long day. Baabe would help prepare said food (most of it was junk, or things that he would make with his family, but it didn't matter to Baabe what it was as long as it helped.) After the things were made, they would build a nest in the living room and settle in it to play games for hours on end. They would eat, laugh, and make stupid bets while playing games just for the fun of it.

David is a tough guy, and he usually won't admit when he's tired after a long day. However, when he gets home and is just a little bit more clingy than usual, Angel usually catches on. This is where they would start to do damage control, complaining about how tired they were, and how much their coworkers got on their nerves, and "will you cuddle with me?"s until David 'gives in' because he'd do anything for his Angel. This was the first part of their plan. Angel would then get David to lie down in their lap so they'd be able to play with his hair. David would protest half-heartedly, but he never won the fight. Angel moved on to the third part of the plan, putting on a series of YouTube videos that they watched regularly and turned the volume down so it was just background noise. They would run their fingers through his hair, and David would slowly relax and close his eyes. Sometimes he'd fall asleep like that. Angel never did tease him for when he was like this, but they did take pride in the fact that he could help them relax.

Guy would usually be the opposite of how he normally acts, which is Honey's first clue to how his day went. When he's had a long day, it's usually because he had a lot of deliveries/customers and was just human'd out for the day. Honey would ask him point-blank if he wanted to have their presence or not. If he said no, Honey would give him a kiss before sending him to bed, telling him they were there if they needed him. They would get made fun of for being so soft, but he still listened. If he did want them to stick around, the two of them would end up on the couch tangled together watching one of their shows. Honey would be running their hands along his body in a soothing manner, sometimes running their fingers into his hair, but there would be no talking. There would be no expectation of conversation, or jokes, or anything like that. Guy appreciated it more than anything being able to just exist like that.

anyway that's all from me :D i hope you guys enjoyed this cause idk it was fun for me. i might do more like this in the future ngl.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

I have a character I'm working on whose body is mostly just bones ('cause he died and was revived a few decades later) and ice he forms and controls with his magic. I know ice can make a wide range of sounds (based on videos of people ice skating on YouTube), but would he be able to use it to mimic (some) spoken words? What would his voice sound like if he spoke or sang?

(Note: He's also going to use sign language, but given that he's an elk skeleton and missing half his limbs, that might be a bit challenging for him to use a full vocabulary of sign. And also singing is important to him, so he'd really want to be able to if at all possible.)

that is a fascinating concept, I love it.

as for sound through ice, not my expertise but I can find some resources for you!

here is a forum post about weird ice sounds

here is a study on the effects of ice on sound in the arctic ocean

and here is a video about the sound of cracking ice on a lake

it's also worth a note that whenever you see videos of ice making funky noises, it's always somewhere with a very large amount of ice in a big area, like a frozen lake or a glacier or an arctic/antarctic ice sheet. the amount of ice needed for an elk-human sized body may not produce the same volume of sound! but animating a skeleton with ice in place of flesh is a purely magical thing that has zero realism, so you can handwave all sorts of things with this concept. I think the best place to look for "how would you make a voice out of sounds like this" is actually early computer voices!

like the Voder maybe or the IBM 7094

here is a video on the evolution of computerized voices

here is an article on the history of synthesized speech

and a video about the Curiosity rover singing Happy Birthday

the tldr of how this sort of thing works is just Vibration. if you have the right materials to create audible resonance, you can vibrate them to create different sounds. this is also how many musical instruments work! making it sound like speech is harder, but possible. your ice elk dude might have a very unusual voice that other people find difficult to understand. maybe he can embed some metal pieces in a hollow chamber in his icy throat and focus whatever magic keeps him "alive" into vibrating those metal pieces to create sound. the exact method of it can be handwaved, it's magic. but it adds just a little bit of plausibility and unique flavor to the way he communicates.

have fun!

[mijlen]

Finally finished with my latest custom doll!

It's a glam take on Minty from My Little Pony (G3), specifically A Very Minty Christmas.

Lots of details went into this doll, and it took far and away longer than any doll I've made before. I lost track, but the hours spent easily go above 20.

Details about the construction below the cut!

Face and body

I started with a Vandala Doubloons base for the face mold, which I sliced open 😱 to create my first set of inset eyes. I just love Vandala's face mold, it's very unique and cute compared to others in the MH line (My base stock box dolls have all been super well loved, btw, so no I didn't destroy a mint in box Vandala. I would NEVER!!) The body was a headless stock box Abby, but I only decided to do that after trying and failing to do a peg-leg transplant on Vandala. It didn't matter, in the long run, since I was going to be painting the entire body anyway. Lots of coats of mint green artist's acrylic, cut with lots of flow builder medium, and about three coats of Mr. Super Clear between those coats of paint, and I had my base.

I knew the silhouette and hair I wanted for Minty from my earliest concept sketches, and looking at them I realized: this silhouette won't look "right" on a standard MH slimline. So it was time for some Apoxie sculpt! I gave her some bust and butt implants, as well as some hip and tummy augmentation to round things out in a way that would better serve the design. Then, more paint and Mr. Super Clear to make the body cohesive.

Hair

The hair is entirely acrylic yarn. Not only wefts, but I also achieved the voluminous high pony look by needle-felting a ratted base, around which the rest of the wefts were attached. Then, I had to curl them. This was by far one of the most time consuming parts of the process, but I love the outcome. I used the hot chopstick technique. That is, heating up a metal chopstick with a straightening iron, and twisting individual strands of hair around it. It keeps the hair from scorching, and allows for some truly tiny, glamorous curls.

Clothes

The gown is hand-sewn, but definitely not removable lmao. It's hard to get such a tight fit on such a tiny doll without using stretch material, and I was using costume satin, so I just glued the bodice down once I'd done all I could with darts and alterations.

The skirt went through a few iterations, with different colors being layered in for the trumpet skirt including sheer mint green, sheer white chiffon, and different shades of pink satin. And yes, those were all fully sewn as I made the decision. 😭 Eventually I went with three tiers in the basic hot pink as the rest of the dress, figuring I would add the contrasting color pops with beading.

Oof, the beading. It was a lot of hand beading. Bedazzling? idk what to call it. All I know is that many hours were spent over a pile of rhinestones and beads with a wax pencil and some Liquid Fusion glue, listening to extremely long YouTube video essays as I worked. The more I added, the more I WANTED to add, and I decided not to pull punches.

I added some volume to the skirt with stiff tulle and a half-assed cage skirt made of armature wire. You can't see it, anyway - it's the EFFECT that matters. Speaking of things you can't see, she's just wearing some unembellished hot pink G1 Draculaura boots. 😂

Details

The accessories, including the peppermints and the Here Comes Christmas Candy Cane, were all made with Apoxie sculpt, hand painted/detailed, and varnished. Perhaps my favorite little detail are her "acrylics," which I added using a technique I saw Hextian use in a video - you touch a dab of hot glue to the doll's finger, then pull it back slowly, and trim once dry. This creates a really fun effect of fake nails.

So yeah. This doll was a labor of love, and I'm so glad I didn't take any half-measures along the way. I'm very proud of her. Hope you like her!

One more note: YES I realize the irony of not having any SOCKS involved in an MLP Minty design. I really do regret this, and agonized over it a LOT. I considered making a “pajamas version” of this same doll so I could do a socks-themed outfit, before I realized the dress would need to be glued on. 

[theylikeboth]

Nineteen year old Kuroo who comes home to visit only to realize that his best friend is hot actually. He doesn't look that different from how he always did, maybe a tiny bit taller, a little bit more muscular - the things that happen when you grow up -

But for the first time in his life, Kuroo is...noticing him. His face, with it's small, pretty features, his soft hair, his slim body with pretty collarbones and slender fingers, but feels kind of strong against his when they hug. Kenma's been cooped up at home without Kuroo there to drag him places, so for once, he's the one who suggest going out. They borrow his dad's car and go to a movie theater, scrolling on their phones for the showings with the ignition off instead of walking the few hundred feet to check.

Kenma leans over from the driver's seat, "Look at this text from Tora," he says.

>> me and Lev found a kitten! [image attached]

The picture is of a tiny kitten with a collar and two hands, obviously belonging to Lev and Tora, petting it.

Kuroo laughs, "How does Lev always find cats?"

Kenma shrugs with a smile, and taps a reply back. Kuroo feels a strange pang inside when he leans away.

"So is there anything good playing?"

"Not really," Kuroo says, "Unless you want to watch a romantic comedy."

"Mm, if it's that one with the actress who cries a lot, it looks bad."

"I have no idea who you're talking about. Is it her?" They both lean in again, shoulders touching.

"Yeah," Kenma tilts his head to look at Kuroo, "Remember in that superhero movie, she kept screaming and crying?"

"No, but I believe you. What do you want to do then?"

Kenma sighs and rests his head onto Kuroo's shoulder, "Can we just hang out in here? I don't want to do anything but I also don't want to be around my parents for a little while."

Kuroo laughs, he remembers the stifling feeling of third year, "Sure. Wanna sit in the backseat?"

"Yeah," Kenma twists around and slithers through the gap to get to the back. Kuroo elects to use the doors.

When they're settled, Kenma pulls out his phone again. "Can I show you something weird?"

"Yes, please."

Kenma types into the search bar, /volleyball porn/, and clicks on the first result. There's a girl onscreen in a volleyball uniform humping a volleyball.

"Not that weird," Kuroo comments.

"Just wait."

"Yes!" she moans, way over the top, "Bokuto-san, yes!"

"What??" Kuroo half-shouts.

Kenma looks at him with wide eyes and a huge grin, "I /know/."

"She said Bokuto, right? She said that!"

Kenma turns up the volume and scoots closer to Kuroo. "Bokuto-san!" the girl wails.

"She /has/ to be talking about our Bokuto," Kuroo says, laughing.

"He's the only pro-volleyball player with that name right now," Kenma agrees.

"That's insane," Kuroo whispers.

Kenma cackles, "I haven't decided if I should send it to Akaashi yet"

"Fuck, send it to Bo too. He'll love this."

The video ends with a ridiculous whine as the girl exaggerates her orgasm, crying out Bokuto's name.

"I've never gotten the whining," Kenma says, "It's not even hot."

"Yeah, I don't want to know who it's fooling. Hey, have you ever looked up Kodzuken porn?" Kuroo asks, snickering. "There are impersonators who pretend to be youtubers getting fucked."

"My channel's not that big, so I doubt we'd find anything," Kenma says, typing it out anyways. They don't find real porn, but what they do find is a compilation on youtube titled, /Kodzuken Porn For Simps/

"Hey guys," Kenma's voice says. There's a zoom in as his tongue flicks out to lick his lips.

"Oh god," Kenma says, "I hate this already."

As they watch, there's a series of clips of Kenma smirking while playing COD, biting his lip as he concentrates, and untying his hair. Kenma cringes at each new clip, but Kuroo...

"I kinda have to admit, a little hot," he says.

Kenma rolls his eyes, "Shut up."

"I'm serious," Kuroo hesitates for a moment, but then decides /fuck it/, there's nothing he could say to Kenma that would fuck up their friendship, "You look good. Hot."

"Me? Or the video," Kenma says teasingly, turning to look at Kuroo. Kuroo ruffles a hand through his own hair, looking around the car with a smile before landing back on Kenma, "You," he admits.

Kenma grins, rolling his eyes, but his cheeks go a little pink, "You look good too," he says.

Kuroo notes the difference in his smile. Until recently, his grin still felt sort of innocent. A child's smile. Even though Kuroo knew that Kenma was far from innocent of course, evil plans lay behind that smile. This grin though...it's more confident. Sultry, in a way. Kenma clicks his phone off and sets it on the center console. He looks back at Kuroo like he's evaluating him.

"What?" Kuroo laughs.

Kenma shakes his head, "I'm just trying to decide something."

"What are you trying to decide?"

"I'm trying to decide if it would be weird for us to make out."

Kuroo laughs again, feeling his cheeks warm, "I don't think it would be weird," he shrugs one shoulder.

"If you say so," Kenma leans in close, resting a hand on Kuroo's inner thigh. His heavy eyelids and golden eyes are locked on Kuroo's. Kenma's tongue wets his still smirking lips.

Oh okay, this is actually happening.

Without closing his eyes, Kenma kisses Kuroo softly. Kuroo brings a hand to Kenma's face and pushes the loose hair away from it. Kenma's eyes close. Kuroo lets his close as well, inhaling the familiar scent of his best friend. He runs his tongue along Kenma's lips, who opens them and licks back delicately like he's tasting Kuroo, seeing if he likes it. Kuroo's heart thrums pleasantly inside his chest. He kisses back a little harder and Kenma makes a small sound. The hand he has in Kenma's hair tightens involuntarily. Kenma pulls away about half an inch and speaks.

"You're right, not weird."

Kuroo smiles and kisses him again, bringing his other hand to Kenma's waist. Kenma takes it a step further and shifts their bodies so that Kuroo is leaning back in the seat and straddles him. Kuroo doesn't know why, but he's sort of surprised to feel Kenma's length pressing against his body. It's nice though, it feels good. Kenma rolls his hips, obviously feeling Kuroo's erection underneath him as well. He tucks his feet in close to his body, hooking them on the insides of Kuroo's knees, and Kuroo feels slender fingers run into his messy hair. There's a tug at the back of Kuroo's head, Kenma wordlessly commanding Kuroo to tilt his chin up. Kuroo snickers softly against his mouth and the fingers twist in his hair sharply.

Kenma leans away, continuing to move his hips. "I was wondering if you felt similarly," he says conversationally, as though his piercing eyes and rolling hips aren't currently removing the breath from Kuroo's body.

"Similarly?" Kuroo manages.

"You went to college and you came back hot. I didn't go to college, but..."

"But you're hot now?" Kuroo laughs breathily.

"That's for you to say," Kenma says as though it has nothing to do with him.

"You're hot now," Kuroo confirms.

He slides his hands under Kenma's baggy top, exposing his stomach, and rubs his thumbs over Kenma's nipples. Kenma gasps.

Kuroo grins, "Is that your weak spot then?"

"I'm not an enemy boss," Kenma says indignantly.

Kuroo pinches lightly at one of his nipples and Kenma moans like he can't help it.

"I don't knoww, seems like I'm winning."

His grin widens at the competitive fire that lights in Kenma's eyes. He hates losing.

Kenma curls down and bites at Kuroo's neck, making his hands pause and squeeze Kenma's body. He runs his runs over the spot lightly and up to Kuroo's ear.

"Fuck," Kuroo breathes. He can practically see Kenma's smug little smirk in his mind's eye and decides to break it with some fun of his own. He takes a hand and slides it down the back of Kenma's jeans. There's a soft, shuddering breath in his ear. He squeezes, and is gifted with an involuntary sound. Kenma seems to take his own pleasure as an attack and aggressively sucks at Kuroo's earlobe, forcing a breath out of Kuroo's lungs.

He makes a sound that's half laugh, half gasp, "It's not actually a competition, Kenma."

//Brb, I'll continue this in just a few minutes ✌️

"Not that I'm complaining," Kuroo concedes.

A hand snakes down the front of his body and Kenma presses it against Kuroo's cock through his jeans. Kuroo takes a breath, the hand down Kenma's jeans squeezing again.

"You do think I'm hot," Kenma whispers in his ear. Kuroo groans, the feeling of Kenma's hand against him and his voice in his ear making him feel almost dizzy. Kenma unbuttons his jeans and lowers the zip. Kuroo feels his breath shudder. There's something sort of unbelievable about the situation, /Kenma/ is touching him right now

"Bigger than I thought, actually," he says, running his hand along Kuroo's length.

"What were you expecting?" Kuroo manages breathily.

"Something I could fit in my mouth."

Kenma says it so nonchalantly, like he didn't just make Kuroo's cock leak with words from his lips. He leans away from Kuroo's ear then and slips his hand inside of his underwear. Kuroo gasps at the skin to skin contact. Kenma smirks at whatever expression is on his face.

"Don't worry, Kuro," he says, "I'll still do my best."

Kuroo's brain isn't keeping up. His best at what?

Kenma slides off of his lap and kneels between his knees on the car floor. /Oh/.

"Scoot up," he commands.

Kuroo does. Kenma smiles sweetly and then pushes the waistband of his boxer briefs down. He grasps Kuroo in one tiny hand

He gives it a few strokes, "I'm not very good deep throating," he explains, in the same tone that he might have said /my blocking need some work/

"I have a big mouth," he continues, "But I haven't really done anything about my gag reflex."

Kuroo laughs in mild disbelief, "Kenma, trust me, I am not about to complain."

Kenma laughs, "No, you're not," he says confidently.

Oh fuck.

Kenma opens his mouth and sucks on the tip. It's hot and wet and it feel so good.

"/Kenma/," Kuroo breathes. Kenma hums. He sinks down lower and then pulls back up, keeping his lips wrapped around Kuroo's cock. He takes Kuroo's hands, which are curling on the seat beside him and places them on his own head. He hums again, the feeling reverberating inside of Kuroo. Kuroo groans and combs his fingers tightly into Kenma's hair, responding to the wordless order.

"Mm," Kenma hums again in approval.

He begins moving in earnest, sinking about halfway down each time before rising and sucking hard on the way up, making Kuroo's breath shake and groan. After a few head bobs, he sinks further than he has and gags. He doesn't lift up though, simply letting the saliva drip down Kuroo's cock and over his hand. His eyes lock with Kuroo's, they're watery and intense. "Fuck, you're so sexy Kenma," Kuroo groans.

Kenma comes off of him with a pop, "Thank you," he says with a little smile. His cheeks are pink, and if his saliva drenched hand wasn't currently stroking Kuroo's dick, he would look sweet and innocent. Regardless, it's cute. Kuroo reaches down and wipes a trail of spit running down his lip.

"You good?" he asks.

Kenma rolls his eyes and wraps his mouth back around Kuroo. He lowers his head, and when he comes back up, his cheeks hollow out as he sucks. The feeling shatters Kuroo's breath. Kenma starts to move faster, gliding down and sucking on the way back up, his golden eyes checking Kuroo's expressions.

"I'm close," Kuroo gasps suddenly.

Kenma takes his mouth off Kuroo and continues stroking, lowering himself until his face is level with Kuroo's cock.

"Come on my face, Kuro."

Kuroo does, spilling over those pretty features of Kenma's, ruining his delicate face with his sticky cum. When he's done, he leans back into his seat, panting. "That was. So good," he says, his words clipped from labored breathing.

"Good," Kenma smiles, gathering cum off of his face with a finger and licking it off. He looks absolutely obscene to Kuroo. This is the same kid who refused to eat a gummy bear that fell on the ground. He gets most of it off, leaving his face just a little sticky.

"Yummy," he grins, pleased.

Kuroo laughs, "How about you now?"

"I don't think you'll fit on the floor," Kenma says, getting a wet wipe from the seat pocket. He wipes the residue from his face. "That's true. Come up here then," Kuroo pats his lap.

Kenma does, straddling his legs once again. Kuroo undoes his jeans and takes his dick out. It's hard and the tip is red and shiny with precum.

Kenma pants as Kuroo strokes him, leaning his forehead against Kuroo's. "Kuro," he sighs, his eyes closed.

Kuroo strokes his hand through Kenma's hair as the other works over Kenma's dick.

Kenma sighs and gasps with the movement of his hand, "I'm going to be thinking about this," he breathes, "Until you visit again."

Kuroo's heart throbs at the idea.

"Me too," he says softly.

Kenma's eyes open and his breath quickens, uneven, "I'm-I-" he moans, a lewd choked sound, and then he's spilling over Kuroo's hand.

/His face is so pretty/, Kuroo thinks, watching his best friend orgasm. When he's finished, Kenma sighs again, deep and satisfied. He quickly hands Kuroo the wet wipes when he notices his mess dripping onto Kuroo's jeans.

Kuroo wipes his hands and jeans off as Kenma slides off of his lap and puts himself away. Kenma giggles a little. "What is it?" Kuroo asks with a smile.

"I just feel like such a cliché teenager right now," Kenma's eyes crinkle with amusement, "getting laid in the back of my dad's car in a movie theater parking lot.

Kuroo laughs, "You're an adult technically."

"True," Kenma settles against the seat, turned towards Kuroo, "When are you leaving?"

"Day after tomorrow," Kuroo says, balling up the wet wipes.

Kenma smiles, "Then we can do this one more time before you leave."

Kuroo grins, "Yes, we can."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuroo, age twenty six, calls his boyfriend, who's editing in the other room "Oy, Kenma!"

"What?" Kenma calls back.

"Come here!"

On Kuroo's laptop is a porn site. Typed into the search bar, the words "kodzuken porn"

Results: 426

[itsclydebitches]

Its not just the fanbase that likes V9 though. Fatmanfalling, Tom Horan, VexedViewer, Mrcheese. All major rwby critics who have never been nice to RT have stated this is the best volume. Its a consensus thats very wide. Which is fascinating

I don't follow the Youtube scene so I haven't seen their interpretations myself, but I wonder if this trend stems from the fact that, technically speaking, Volume 9 has done a lot of what critics have been calling for.

Jaune is absent for the first half of the Volume

The group is disagreeing with each other

Ruby is the focus of a major plot-point

Blake/Yang are indisputably in a canonical relationship

Penny's death is at the emotional heart of the Volume

This is a character-focused season

The Cat's presumed connection to the Gods ties this "fluff" arc into the wider narrative

There are other examples too, with the point being that if you were to just condense the Volume into talking points, yeah, it would come out looking really good. I wonder how many fans - critics and non-critics alike - are swept up in the relief of finally getting a lot of what we've been asking for... not realizing or admitting that it's a monkey's paw situation were we're also getting a series of unintended consequences as a result of these wishes. Again, I haven't seen these vids myself, but at some point I'd love to know a) if critics are factoring in the comparison aspect when calling this the best Volume (that is, "best" by RWBY standards doesn't mean free of serious problems) and b) if everyone still holds this view post-finale and after a bit of time has passed. I mentioned several posts ago the allure of RWBY's spectacle and given that I find myself doing this on occasion with other shows, I wonder how many fans would change their tune after revisiting Volume 9 after a bit of downtime. When we're not swept away by the shock of old!Jaune and the horror of Ruby drinking the tea and the excitement of seeing characters like Pyrrha again... when the novelty of the Big Reveals has worn off, do these moments still resonate? Or does that then leave room for a, "Actually, that's not very well done" response?

It is fascinating either way. I personally think this is one of RWBY's worst Volumes, due to how it has spectacularly failed to follow up on the conflicts introduced in Volume 8, its mishandling of new conflicts (like Ascension), and the overall tone of the Volume where we have a gag-focused start swerving hard into incredibly dark themes all while taking place in a world that, frankly, has had no time to be fleshed out. The fact that Little underwent the same fate as Maria and Pietro last episode - here's a side character you and the group are supposed to care about, but they're forgotten by the story after a horrific event where it's unknown whether they lived or died - just says to me that RWBY is still suffering from all the same problems, but now with increasingly ~shocking~ events to help distract viewers from that.