#no art just because i have some other things i have to work on

[creatingblackcharacters]

Do you have any advice/suggestions/requests for non-black members of fandom as far as how to respond to racism in fandom spaces? Obviously we shouldn't be speaking over black voices, but it doesn't seem fair for black members of fandom to have to do all the work of making a fandom space safe and welcoming for themselves.

You are correct! Tbh, these are tips for being a good ally in general:

Amplify Black Voices!

Odds are, whatever manifesto you have in your mind about the injustice of antiblackness in your fandom, a Black fan has already said it multiple times. While I appreciate the sentiment, I must admit I'm salty when I see that people are more supportive of (usually white) voices that discuss my lived experience, over my own voice and my lived experience. What does that really solve? You need to be following Black fans too, that way you're actually in the know when these things are happening.

Don't be a Bystander!

If I'm getting jumped and you (who had the power to help) show up afterwards to say "I really empathized with your pain", I'm not going to think "wow they cared, I'm so grateful". I'm going to think "WOW they really let me get my ass beat!" Same idea with this. That's honestly the most painful part for me; it's not the lone racist themselves, but the hordes of people who back them up, and the rest (some of whom you may even consider a friend) who might disagree but say absolutely nothing.

When you see that a Black peer is being railroaded and you KNOW it's wrong, step tf up! Be willing to say "you're out of pocket for behaving this way, and I will not be supporting you now that I know you're a racist". I will never know you're an ally if you're only an ally in your head! It's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!!

It's going to be uncomfortable! Stand on it!

If you share that you're against antiblackness in fandom spaces, but next you're reblogging whitewashed art, or an artist known for whitewashed/racist pieces, or still following someone who's made covert/overt antiblack statements, etc. just bc you "enjoy their stuff"... You're not being an ally. Be willing to hold those creators accountable, and when they disappoint you, unfollow them. Be willing to tell your friends, "hey, that person did/said this thing that was anti-black and were unapologetic about it". And if your friends don't care? Now you know who's around you. I'm not saying it's easy, but... Do you stand on business, or would you rather allow racism so that you can stay comfortable? Because your Black peers have to live under this discomfort you're only momentarily experiencing. It's far harder for me to approach these people and hold them accountable. And if I see that you're still kicking it with known antiblack racists... I'm probably not going to assume highly of you, either.

Educate yourself on what these aggressions look like!

You might not know what to look for, and if you don't, you're gonna miss a lot. What is actually antiblackness will often be posited as "drama" or "fandom wank". Or, if they're really trying to sound progressive, it'll reveal itself as dogwhistles in other important topics like queer representation or misogyny (e.g. how white women often claim misogyny when confronted with their racism, or TERFs). That's how it gets swept under the rug. Learn to recognize microaggressions, learn to recognize the signs. It requires work! Listen to and believe your Black peers when they explain what they saw! Bc trust, once you see it... You'll realize there's a lot of it lmao. And that's what many fans are afraid of confronting.

That's what I have for now, if anyone else has anything to offer. 👍🏾 Thanks for asking!

#creatingblackcharacters

[ao3topshipsbracket]

Bonus statistics: the Really Funny Graph Awards

As I've pointed out before, it's often hard to notice voter fraud— even in large quantities— if you can't see, not just how many votes came in, but when and in what patterns. Accusations of fraud don't track fraud, they track controversy; the most fraud often happens in polls that nobody particularly objects to, because nobody was paying attention.

Unless you have a graph in front of you. Fortunately, we do! So here's a brief review of the graphs that made it very, very clear to the mod team group chat that someone was playing silly buggers.

Round 1:

Davekat vs Zolu would almost even look natural, if it weren't for that enormous spike at the day 4 mark. But what a spike! And Akeshu vs Supercorp has those spikes in the middle, but the beginning stages of the graph look maybe fine... if you weren't watching for the first two days, and didn't get to see the progression:

Round 2:

This, on the other hand, couldn't be mistaken for natural by anyone. Look at this nonsense. The stairstep lines! The sharpness of the peaks! The sharpness of the dropoffs, which is how you can tell that this isn't just the poll being reblogged by large accounts, it is one person putting in truly insane amounts of effort! The fraud continuing long after Hualian had a significant lead, apparently just to make sure Buddie couldn't possibly launch a counteroffensive! Isn't it beautiful!

Round 4-5:

And once again, Hualian voters— or, well, some particular Hualian voter— goes nuts. Usually in 1-day polls, the votes come in fast enough that even with a graph it's hard to see if anything's gone wonky. Not so here; that bend in both graphs at around the same time, where I can only assume our frauder stopped for the night and went to bed, is a work of art.

Round 6:

No visible irregularities in the graphs (I assume they were just happy with getting to the semifinals?) but I did see this ask pop up:

I didn't see responses from anyone who took them up on it.

Real talk: This sort of thing is the reason I run poll brackets. This is proof that one person with insane dedication and a lot of time really can be the backbone of a fandom. This is, and I know this is melodramatic but I am being entirely sincere here, a chart of human passion.

Davekat, Akeshu, and especially Hualian— someone loves you very, very much.

#not a poll #statistics #voter fraud

[youunravelme]

nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1

author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.

summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!

after

despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.

but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.

the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.

“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.

“how was work?” your mom asked.

you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.

when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.

but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.

but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.

it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.

“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”

both of your parents hummed.

“did you have dinner already?” you asked.

“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.

your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”

you wanted to throw up.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.

“oh,” was all you could say.

“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”

you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 

“i’ll figure something out,” you said.

your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

after

you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.

“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”

“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.

“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”

your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.

you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”

but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.

you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.

and that’s what life had felt like lately:

unfortunate.

unfortunate shit just happening to you.

it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.

you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.

emma:

hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!

you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.

years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.

but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.

you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.

now it just filled you with dread.

no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.

but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.

you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.

you:

i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!

and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.

before

the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.

missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.

it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.

school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.

now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.

and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.

the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.

especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 

all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.

which is how you ended up playing the game of life.

even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.

you found yourself smiling and laughing along.

you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.

“are you having fun?” he asked.

your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”

“really?” he smiled.

you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”

matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”

you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.

but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.

you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.

“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”

matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”

to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?

evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”

he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”

you locked your fingers together. “promise.”

after

it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.

which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 

before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.

“hey! what’s up?”

you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”

emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”

you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”

“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”

and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.

“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”

“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”

“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”

“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.

“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”

you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”

“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”

you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.

there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”

before

matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.

both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.

morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.

hence the party in the basement.

morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.

“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”

no one said a word.

you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.

“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”

the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”

thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.

you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.

but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”

“truth,” simone replied.

morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.

the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.

“truth or dare?” she asked.

you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.

“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.

a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.

“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.

morgan blinked. “what?”

it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”

she guffawed. “but you have to!”

matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”

“but you lose if you don’t!”

he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”

your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.

“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.

a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.

“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.

matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”

you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”

matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”

“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”

you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”

he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.

“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.

oh god. did he like simone?

your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.

you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”

he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”

now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”

matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”

“matt, what are you talking about?”

he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”

“know what?”

matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?

“matt what—”

“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.

you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.

matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”

“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”

“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”

you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”

“would you let me?”

words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.

but it was perfect.

after

you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.

most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.

it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.

unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.

but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?

you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.

it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.

“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”

and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.

the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.

“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”

you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”

taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.

you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”

taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”

your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”

taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“taryn...”

“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”

you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.

“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”

you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.

“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”

you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”

the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.

you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.

emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.

the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.

it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.

emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.

you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.

you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.

emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.

but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.

“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.

if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.

if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.

but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.

brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.

if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.

but it was too late now.

matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.

you felt like an idiot.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.

your hands were shaking again.

you shoved them in your pockets again.

matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.

“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.

you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”

matt scoffed. “not happening.”

out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”

matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”

“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.

brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”

you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.

and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.

you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.

but it wasn’t like that this time around.

you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.

the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.

you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.

you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.

except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.

you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.

you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.

brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.

a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.

you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.

in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.

his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.

you just—

couldn't.

matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.

you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.

before

you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.

matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.

the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.

“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 

“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”

“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.

moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.

you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.

“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.

matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.

matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”

you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.

all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.

“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.

you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.

“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.

you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”

matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”

you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.

matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.

you blinked, still smiling. “what?”

“you're not gonna say you love me back?”

you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”

matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”

and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”

and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.

matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.

“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.

“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”

matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”

“i love you so much.”

after

the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.

you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.

last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 

the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.

“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.

“rough weekend,” you grumbled.

frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”

you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.

“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”

you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”

“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”

there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.

“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”

you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.

“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”

“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”

you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.

“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”

frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.

you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.

but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.

not two minutes later.

not thirty minutes later.

not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.

not even on the drive home.

frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.

it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.

and now it was no one.

now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.

you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?

you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.

“hey.”

it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.

“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.

“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”

“good.”

matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”

“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”

“if you—”

“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?

matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”

the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 

“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”

“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”

“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”

“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”

you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.

one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.

and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.

there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.

you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.

so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.

you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.

“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.

your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”

“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”

a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”

before

“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.

you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”

“do you have any back up schools?”

you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”

ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”

“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.

ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”

“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”

your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”

“i want to be with matthew.”

ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”

“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”

ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”

after

you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.

it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.

and now it was saturday.

you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 

if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.

you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.

it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.

despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.

the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.

“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”

“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.

she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.

“how’s work going?”

you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”

simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”

“but are you passionate about what you do?”

she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”

you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.

“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”

it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.

simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”

you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”

simone whispered your name.

“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”

simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”

you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”

simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”

you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”

your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”

“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”

“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”

your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.

so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”

simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”

you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 

the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.

maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.

before

the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.

you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.

the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.

but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.

but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.

it was fine.

just high school.

you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.

but it wasn’t like that.

because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.

matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.

so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.

you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.

“please hold your applause until the end.”

you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.

your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.

as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.

“outside!” brady pointed.

you nodded.

as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.

a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.

when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”

matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”

“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 

“me too, baby.”

unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.

but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—

everything was perfect.

you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 

and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.

but you had no idea how the future would turn out.

you thought matt was forever.

after

you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.

you could do that, right?

just casual sex?

the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—

you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.

your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.

the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 

her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.

his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.

he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.

but maybe it was for the best.

you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.

“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”

“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”

you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.

which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.

you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.

“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”

oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?

but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.

you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.

“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”

“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.

simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”

“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.

“mostly acrylic.”

andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”

you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”

“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.

you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.

“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”

your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”

and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.

“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”

you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”

andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.

the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.

he, quite literally, left you in the cold.

andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”

you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”

andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”

your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.

you refused to be pathetic any longer.

which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.

before

you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.

and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.

because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.

tonight was different.

safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.

you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.

until tonight.

you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.

“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.

matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“you okay?” you asked.

he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”

the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.

but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.

normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.

“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.

“nothing,” he grunted.

“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”

“there’s nothing to help.”

“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”

“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.

your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.

matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.

matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.

a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.

a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.

his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.

“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”

“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.

you kept walking.

“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”

you kept walking.

a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.

gently, he turned you around.

“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.

you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?

he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”

you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”

with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”

“matthew, you know that’s not true—”

“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”

a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.

“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”

your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“i love you, matty.”

he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”

after

“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.

your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.

you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”

“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.

you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”

your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”

your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”

“alan, this will be good for her!”

but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”

“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.

but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

so was matthew.

you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”

the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 

but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.

andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.

and you hated yourself for it.

the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.

andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.

“hey,” he greeted.

you gave him a small smile. “hi.”

“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”

you shook your head. “not too bad.” 

c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.

“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—

“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”

you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”

andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”

you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.

you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.

your phone buzzed.

simone: 

how’s it going?

you smiled despite yourself. 

you:

he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.

you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.

you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.

“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.

you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”

“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”

your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.

you wanted to throw up.

instead, you chugged the drink.

“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.

you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”

he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.

and another.

and another.

your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.

matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.

but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.

your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.

“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”

but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.

then the panic set in.

it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.

“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 

“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.

“matt hey—”

brady. you were right, brady was here.

god you loved brady.

“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”

with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.

oh. your date.

there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.

you were gonna throw up.

or pass out.

you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—

“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.

your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.

were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—

oh god.

oh god.

“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”

did you?

but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.

maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.

“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.

“he—he was gonna—”

matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.

matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.

your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.

what a year tonight has been.

your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.

“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”

your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.

rock bottom.

you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.

“you okay?” he asked.

“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”

matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.

“baby i—”

“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”

“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”

maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”

“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”

“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”

matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.

and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?

you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.

“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”

brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”

matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”

your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”

he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”

you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

[cy-lindric]

I wanted to vent, but also ask an honest question. Since I was a teenager, I always wanted to work on character design. And one thing that always caught my attention was how I always preferred male character designs over female ones. My first thought was that I was always more into androgynous fashion and more masculine styles. But time passed and I came to the conclusion that it wasn't just that, and it seems that male characters can always be different things: fat, thin, handsome, ugly, short, tall, young, old, etc. and female characters, for the most part, fall into two categories: cute or sexy. I wanted some tips on how I can make female characters with more interesting designs, without having to fall into those two categories. I love your work and you managed to make someone else like the three musketeers <3<3

Hello ! That's definitely a good question and something I think about a lot. The bias towards beauty is very strong in character design and it takes a conscious effort to diversify output in that regard.

That sort of advice might be a bit obvious, but one habit I picked up from the director on my first feature film gig was to actually "cast" characters. Without reference, we tend to go for the kind of symmetrical face and "average" features mostly out of stylistic habit. I like to look at character actors with distinct faces (I like this pinterest page that has a lot of faces in one place) but also just acquaintances or pictures of random crowds.

When designing a character, at first I'm always building a big reference board trying to decide what Type of Guy (gender neutral) I'm going for, trying use photos rather than other people's art, because I want to rely on automatics and graphic symbols as little as possible. Whether I'm designing a man or a woman or other, I use references of fashion styles and people across the board in terms of gender so I keep the scope open. Sometimes a character ref board for me will be a picture of one of my aunts next to a bunch of screenshots of Columbo. In my experience, a lot of the times, it's mostly about going with styles and archetypes the same way you would for a male character, and switching it up somewhere along the way by looking at real women in your life and beyond as a grounding mechanism. Sometimes that will mean changing almost nothing, because the borders between genders and how you characterize them is blurry and fluid, and sometimes it will mean using features that are uniquely tied to some sort of female experience.

I enjoy realism and I think getting more proficient at it did help me diversify my designs (I find that more difficult to do with more minimalistic styles). Still, I am mostly a fantasy artist and in my case that comes with some amount of stylization and idealization of shapes and looks. I'm far from perfect in my biases and I'm not going out of my way to draw "ugly" characters because that doesn't mean much to me ; I try to draw inspiration from the faces of every day people and I associate it with my love for fashion. It's also worth noting the work I post here for fun is a lot more hash tag aesthetic than the stuff I do professionally where diversity is much more important.

I don't know if any of that is relevant but that's definitely an interesting topic ! I'd love to know others' perspective and tips on the matter.

#replies #txt #theinvisiblescanner #character design

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Context and then some well-deserved smut, filthy stuff wink wink

Notes: Sorry for not posting but I work F, S, and S 8hrs so here it is!Thank you all for reading, you truly make my day with the likes

WC: 5.6K

Suddenly a good selection of paintings inside the museum made perfect sense. The way the people in the paintings showed their physical affection, the way the sculptures were exceptionally objective with their sculpted fingers gripping legs and arms and oh-so-loving embraces. It made sense to you, after all this time. Erotism.

“The more you stare at it, the more you’ll raise suspicion”

You turned and looked at his tall figure, Benedict was quick to offer you his arm “Isn’t it the opposite?”

“Not quite. People who don’t understand it walk fast and prefer to admire fruit bowls than this” he pointed at the painting “but people who do get it… they admire” he sighed “after all. That’s what you do with art”

“And what if they knew I understand this?” You shrugged “It is like you said… are they going to make us marry? We have the leverage”

Benedict chuckled at your joke "You using the power game here is..." he sighed looking forward "Making me want to do this with you"

You eyed the sculpture of a naked man embracing a woman, his palm resting on top of her breast, the other one resting on her navel... resting? No, perhaps he was going southern to her-

"And still, even if you have a respectful air of confidence I still make you blush. Oh, Lady Danbury"

You blinked away, the blood all around your face being mentally pushed by you so you could face Lady Danbury and her soft yet harsh eyes if that makes any sense "Lady Danbury"

"You pair of doves" she smiled, "I thought you knew better than staring at these cultures far too long"

"I told you so" he whispered in your ear

"Well, Lady Danbury isn't this art to be admired?"

She ticked with her tongue, her cane softly touching your dress "If I didn't know, I would say you and Eloise are twins..." she then frowned looking at Benedict "Do not make fret about it"

"I'll make sure to ignore that"

"Now" she came closer, a hand resting on your back quite tightly "Ready for tomorrow?"

"Sure" you both replied

"I expected more enthusiasm from two people who clearly decided not to follow courtship rules"

"Since when you follow them neat and clear, Lady Danbury?" Benedict teased

"Since our Queen expressed to me that your underground engagement was not keen to her eyes"

"Underground?" Benedict's brows joined "Then what is tomorrow if not a public gathering about it?"

"Your intentions my dear artist were not clear and a man paid for it" She gave one nod "And you are not off the hook, Miss Ashbourne"

"Hmmmm, you sound like my Mama, Lady Danbury"

"And I can imagine what she said to you but at least I had to tell you... you know? Make sure that you know your thing as romantic as it is, it was seen as a surreptitious thing to do. Now, I'll go and you two move from this sculpture, the next thing we don't need is you two to reenact it!"

You saw her walking and how quickly a nobleman was ready to talk to Lady Danbury, you turned to Benedict who was pouting just so slightly.

"Did she just say surreptitious?"

"I don't know brother"

Benedict's face contorted and his eyes glinted with mischief "Oh, please do not. My ears are bleeding"

The day was merely a breeze, compared to the avalanche you believe tomorrow will be. Of course, everyone was invited, the Queen the exception because well... it is not like she helped the match to happen. You did that by yourself. When night became day you followed your morning, you bathed until your skin was wrinkled like a raisin and your hair smelled like a complete bar of soap.

"Tighter"

"Mama"

"Tighter" she refused to let you have some piece "Tighter, girl" she ordered your Lady and you felt your ribcage extremely squeezed "Good" Your Mama stood behind you and stared at your figure "Your father and I haven't talked too much but I know he is quite involved in this, he will have things settled with Mr Bridgerton by no less than before the party ends"

"Alright?" you stared at her eyes but she avoided them "You are still vexed with me?"

"When I see you all dressed in white it will pass, now... tighter"

"No, MamaAaAaouch!"

You could not move as much from your torso and your rapid breathing was not noticeable still you managed to welcome each one from the ton with a wide smile, after all, this was an engagement party for you.

"Lady Danbury, you are glowing"

"Why thank you and you're so... straight, Miss Ashbourne. Lady Ashbourne, a moment?"

You saw your mother leave and that was as if God allowed you to breathe for a second -trying to at least-. The Garden of your house is now decorated with cream and pastels, bushes holding garlands of pearls, tables filled with delicate pastries and-

"Boo!"

You flinched and balanced yourself only to see his clear eyes wrinkling as he laughed "He-"

"Benedict" however it was Violet who went straight to scold the twenty-eight-year-old man winking at you now "Manners, she is your fiancé"

"Indeed" You followed the game but smiled at him in return, your eyes went to the real ton of the evening, all the Bridgertons looking like they always do, stunning. "Lady Bridgerton" but your eyes danced to Kate who quickly shook her head at you and you understood "Lady Bridgerotn" you once called

Violet smiled at you, her kind eyes shining "My dear, you look radiant as always but today..."

"Oh thank you"

"She looks like a bride, right?" Anthony was quick to join

"No, more like a china doll" Hyacinth corrected but Eloise elbowed her

"Thank you Anthony and thank you Hyacinth. Please, there are refreshments, you all can sit down and have a good time"

You watched them go, and then turned to see Benedict still looking at you, you tilted your head and he walked toward you, his hands in his pockets.

"Are you having fun?"

"What do you think?"

His hand went to your dangling earrings and then moved a curl from your face "If I die right now, I'd depart knowing I've witnessed the most enchanting work of art ever created"

The already constricted chest you have due to the corset felt like fire with his words "Thank you, but you won't die now"

"Life is short"

"Not that short for you to die in your engagement party"

"Then marry me now"

"Right"

"Is that a yes?" he murmured and then leaned down kissing your cheek, you sighed closing your eyes and taking a deep breath "Hmm?"

"Yes" You saw him lean back to his place, the violin in the background could not make you flinch nor the chatting could make your ears pierced. What sorcery was this? You could only stay put and see him

"Brother"

You snapped back to see Anthony and blinked away "Lord Bridgerton... I believe your Brother needs you, Mr. Bridgerton"

he grunted, "I love you Anthony but why?"

Anthony so gallantly with a hand on his side palmed Benedict "Business I'm afraid, it won't take that much"

"If it does, I'll send Eloise and she'll throw a book at him"

You both chuckled, you did not move from your place, your Mama did not let you, you saw Eloise coming from the distance and Benedict was nowhere to be seen.

"You look like a statue, a very uncomfortable one"

"I feel like one"

Eloise sighed and leaned on her shoulder "So..."

"So"

"We haven't talked"

"Not because of me"

"Hey, give me some rights..."

"Like?"

"I am the sister, and oh my your sister-in-law, future sister-in-law"

"I love the enthusiasm, El"

"You know I mean well, after all, you are my girl just like Pen who is... eh"

You knew better than to talk so you moved your hand to allow her the stage for the monologue you knew she would throw.

"I mean" she inhaled "Do you, no, did you imagine kissing my brother every time we went out together?"

"El"

"Just answer, you know how this goes"

"No, I did not" you admitted "Especially not the first years"

"That would have been alarming"

"Yes... and I found those sentiments not that long ago but strong. Does that make sense?"

"No, yet I believe you"

"Thanks"

She grabbed your arm "Come on now, let us join Francesca"

"What about Pen?"

"Eh let her do her own thing"

Anthony was lying. Benedict went away and returned before the party finished, some minutes to spare for some dancing couples still taking advantage of the sunny day above them.

"Why haven't we danced?" you inquired and he turned around to see you a slight seriousness on his face "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, it is just that..." his hand caressed your chin and then the palm of his hand went up until it cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone "I missed you"

"Liar"

He shrugged and looked to the dance floor "We haven't have we? Danced"

"No, now that I think about it we haven't"

"Excluding those small dancing sessions with the family..." he muttered

"So now you also want to save a second thing until marriage?"

He saw your smirk and grinned back "I will only save one thing until marriage and I won't tell you what"

"And I won't ask"

"Dance with me then"

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, the way the wind was moving the tree branches, the birds singing... everything was perfect, the sky was the shade of his eyes, the flowers contrasted with his pale skin and finally you danced. You don't remember why on heavens you haven't shared a proper dance not even during innocent times, perhaps those dancing sessions with the Bridgertons but his hands never landed on your back nor his eyes were fixated on yours like now.

Your hands never surrounded him with intensity like now, your mind was never filled with loving thoughts and passions -maybe except from the last year to the present time-.

"What are you thinking?"

"Your eyes"

"Ohhh?"

"I swear I saw the sky and then I looked into your eyes and I thought..." you smiled, your heart beating rapidly, "I thought... there is not much difference"

Benedict blushed, a thing he has mastered not to feel bad about "You're just making me go all mellow on you"

"Afraid of a lady paying compliments?"

"No, I am just afraid of what my body does when it's near the woman who is paying me the compliment"

You swallowed and stared at his face, his hand caressing your spine, your other hand resting on top of his shoulder "Do it then. We were cut hours ago"

"By my lovely brother"

"Is everything alright with... whatever that was?"

He exhaled "Well, if you want to know I will tell you but what if I tell you tonight?"

"Another adventure through back gardens and brandy?"

"You said it better than I could. Come here"

He stopped dancing to the harmony of the violins and flutes. In a second he gave you the sweetest close-mouthed kiss. You felt tingling for a brief moment, you smelled his cologne and felt the softness of his lips.

You smiled like an idiot. Yes, an idiot you called yourself because you couldn't believe this was happening. You couldn't believe the feeling. It was a mix of everything.

By the time the party ended, you gave your farewell to everyone invited. Still, the party was not kind to your mother's mood, her frown kept crippling now and then, triggered by your closeness and unfortunately the collateral damage, your father's.

However, things ran smoothly and you dismissed your two ladies who were quick to go to the servants' chambers for the rest of the day. You did not change attire and still with some light from the twilight, you bravely walked through the back gardens of the houses.

Before your knuckles could touch the door it opened, Benedict still not changed from his black suit was smiling.

"Did you know I was coming?"

"I did not but I was hoping"

You nodded and walked in, he closed the door "Thank you"

"So" he spun in his heels "I must confess something"

"Yes?"

"I have some work I must finish before we talk and... talk"

"Oh, that's alright I must also confess I'm rather curious about this place"

"Please feel free to explore. It is yours"

You saw him leave with an air of madness, but of course, you knew better than cutting his thread when he had that look. So curiosity got the best of you, the living room had a fireplace and a portrait of the whole family.You went upstairs to the hall and saw that there was a door to another studio this one amazingly empty that made you chuckle. Benedict was never one for bookkeeping, files or forms so this room being clean is exceptionally him. His office is the art studio.

You smiled and before turning away you spotted the mirror on top of the fireplace, you looked the same as this morning with more curls out of your hairstyle yet the same. Your hands however found a fight of their own as your fingers tried to unclasp the buttons of your dress, the damned corset was pressuring you too much. You managed to unbutton it, the sleeves were the problem as you couldn't reach it from your position, you took a deep breath and sighed, your back arching and you saw him through the mirror.

"high!" you flinched and lost balance when you swore you were going to feel the hit on your bum you opened your eyes to see him holding you

"What on earth?" he chuckled

"Hi!" you smiled back "you scared me"

"And you scared me"

"How?"

"I heard silence... silence with you in this place" he pulled you up with him, grunted as he tried to balance your rigid back "Everyone knows that you love creating racket"

"Hey"

"Even if it is just humming a song" he brushed your sleeves "So why are you getting naked in this studio?"

"I am not getting naked, my corset is too tight. Has been like so all day and my chest feels like it's going to explode. Help me please?"

You turned around and he undid your dress, the sleeves falling off, the corset's laces were visible yet he hummed "How?"

"How?"

"It is well-knotted"

"Have you never untied one?"

Benedict bit his tongue. He has seeing corsets but the women never have asked him to remove it or sometimes they don't wear one at all.

"Not... quite"

"Un-knotted" you instructed "try each loop to loosen it"

You felt some movement behind, you moved at his weird shaking of you "there" he said "done"

But the corset was the same you could feel it "No, it is still tied"

"No, I..." he humemd "Oh I untied the sides"

"No that only for decor"

"Noted, so the middle"

"Yes the middle!" you shriek

"Alright Alright..." he stood silent again and sighed "wait here"

"Wha- Benedict you only need your hands!"

"I will be right back!"

"Oh Lord"

"Here" he said

But you frowned at the sound, like knives or... "No, Benedict! Bene-"

"Ahhhhhhh" he exhaled relieved "Done!"

You turned around with the coldest glare you have ever done in your life "Really?"

"What?"

"You cut my corset"

"Horrible corset, ribcage-breaker if you ask me"

"Bu-"

"And you hate it too, I do not know where this affection is coming from"

He was right, your chest felt better and his adorable innocent smile was melting you away "Thank you"

"Always, now... what to do with this?" he pointed at you

"I have my camisole here, you can go now to your work"

Benedict pointed with his finger "I thought you knew I came for you"

"You told me you had work"

"The most infuriating thing I have ever said in my life. Forgive me for that"

"So there is no work?"

"There is, plenty. Loads. But you are here with a broken corset. Call me juvenile but not an idiot, my love"

You rolled your eyes "Fine. Take it away and burn it"

"Aye Aye Captain"

Carefully you slid your arms out of the tiny puffed sleeves and then with his help your broken corset was gone leaving your cotton camisole on. Your hands cupped your breast feeling how the tightness made you sore.

"What's wrong?" he asked behind you

"It hurts... like a lot"

"What?"

"My breasts"

"Well, they're finally free"

"No they are not!" you said turning around "see?" and saw his grin "Oh, I know what you did"

"You turned, not me" he tried not to look down the thin camisole so he instead focused on the two orbs on your face "Are you fine wearing your gown? I can lend you some clothes"

"Like what? Do you have spare woman's gowns here?"

"No, but I can find something, let's see"

"Benedict you don't need to do that, I will be fine"

"Well, I can't have you naked"

"I have a camisole and a dress"

"You are not sleeping in that" he said leaving you again in the studio, you turned around to see your reflection in the mirror and saw how your hair was starting to fall, the pins around your curls as well dropping and your camisole exposing just a tiny pigment of your ni-

"Here!" he exclaimed and entered the room with a pile of clothes "I know you hate wool, flannel is too hot so cotton it is"

"Thoughtful" you took the ample cotton shirt. The flounce long sleeves and the collar made you know this one was a hunting shirt "thank you"

"I'll leave you to it, I will..." he walked to the door but then gave one step backwards "unless you want me to-"

"Me? want to...?"

"I meant that- well, me here-"

"Oh, it's-"

"Fine, yes I'll go"

The awkward moment was cut with him closing the door as you usually let yourself change. Your garters holding your stockings and the camisole away made you look like one of those illustrations you found under your father's desk. You however decided to wear Benedict's hunting shirt, your slender arms too fragile for the flouncing sleeves and your collarbone too narrow for the shoulder-width.

Was it too untoward of you?

"Oh for heaven's sake," you muttered

Isn't this enough? too proper all the time? You have been raised in the rules of the time, clear as water you understand them but you are going to be living behind closed walls with a person who is like you. Why should you keep following them? They have domesticated you so well and here is Benedict who has been too -domesticated- but still you two gravitate to unchain yourselves.

"Why Am I thinking so much about the camisole?"

You opened the door of the studio and heard nothing, however as you descended the staircase you started to hear the brushstrokes, the dipping into the water, the brush getting dried with a cloth and a sudden gulp, Brandy it must be.

You reached the art studio and peaked inside, Benedict was facing back at you, the easel with a canvas was ready and his paint pallet was in front of him, the glass full of a golden liquid. You knocked on the door and he turned around.

It was not your intention -you told yourself- the brandy went to his lungs and he coughed at the sight of you. You took the slight moment as advantageous and you moved to the couch where he had put some pillows, you sat and stared at him as he drank from the glass, the amber liquid sliding down his neck.

"That bad?" you asked

"No" he rasped and cleared his throat "not at all. I... think I died and came back with the sight of you"

"You're such a charmer, Mr. Bridgerton"

"That's why I'm not the one who will inherit the title" he joked "I hope you don't mind"

"The title?" you snorted "as if... although now that I put more thought into it... I think my Mother is quite frustrated about it... with Lord Coxingworth being left aside"

Benedict left his glass on a stool and moved to the couch where you are but he sat down on the carpet instead "You are quite perceiving to form that conjecture"

"How so?"

"Your mother talked to me today"

Your blood, as hot as it was went cold "What?"

"Anthony needed me to talk with your parents about your dowry"

You sneered at the thought "I hate dowries"

"And I hate talking about them... but your mother seemed to love Lord Coxingworth and I can't blame her, the man has his charm"

"And he is a Lord"

"And he is a Lord" he repeated "But still, your father was trying to make everything run smoothly so I only nodded. Anthony will make sure to keep everything in place, after all, you will be part of the family. For me you already are"

"Hmmm"

"I was about to say I do not need the dowry but Anthony knew and did the talking"

Your eyes expanded "What?"

"I don't need a dowry is just money. A Business, as if this" he pointed to you and him "is business... it is not"

"You speak only the truth"

He grinned "Would you have taken the money?"

"Are you mad?"

"Imagine I am Benedictina!" he giggled, you slapped his leg with your foot "Hey! And you Mr. Ashbourne"

"Shush you"

"Would you have taken my dowry, my Lord?" he mocked

"Yes!" you laughed "Yes, to go to the coast of Italy and get some food and live there with your dowry Benedictina"

Benedict chortled loudly and hit your leg with his foot which you retaliated but he held it "Stop! You'll make me choke again!"

"Then let go of my leg!"

"You stop first!"

You stopped and looked at him, the fire in the fireplace behind him and the moonlight from the window making the scene even more dreamlike.

"Ben"

"Yes"

"Are you still certain about marrying me?"

He looked at your eyes and the way the firelight made them shine "More than ever. Why the question?"

you shrugged "I don't want you to feel rushed, perhaps Lord Coxingworth made you act fast and-"

"I know what you're saying" he nodded and took his tie from his neck and rolled it in his hand "but it was that or seeing you getting married to him which..." he pointed "It is not the only thing but it pushed me to do something which is the right thing to do"

"You better still think that" you hit his side with your foot again "because I will terrorize you if you ever point out it was rushed"

"I'll terrorize you back"

You sneered "I'll terrorize you further"

He straightened "I'll terrorize you harder"

"Harder?"

"Yes"

"You think you can"

"Oh I know"

"Bring it, Bridgerton"

He leaned in close, crawling on the couch until his hand touched your clothed calf, his lips inches from yours, the fire's heat behind him and the night sky shining through the window.

"I have a lot of ideas"

"I have some myself" you replied

"Is that so" he licked his lips

"Mhm"

"Then I'll start with this" he pecked your lips, once "Fight me" he kissed you, twice "Love me" he kissed you, thrice "Do it all together" and he kissed you again, his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, your lips parted and let him in, his tongue was warm and his breath tasted like brandy and mint.

"And I will start," you said between kisses, his mouth was insatiable, your lips were swollen with his rapture "With this" your hands pulled the tie in his hand and pushed his torso forward, Benedict followed and he was on top of you, his weight pressing down but you loved it "Fight me" you kissed his neck and nipped his lobe, Benedict moaned and moved his lips down your jaw to your chin and then your neck, he was kissing and licking you "Love me" you tugged his hair, the moan reverberating against your neck, his teeth nibbling down to your collarbone "And do it all together"

His hands found the hem of his hunting shirt, your bare legs exposed with the pantalettes still around your body, his hands travelled up your thigh and cupped your ass, the touch burning against your skin. You could feel his fingers digging into your flesh even with the fabric against you.

His eyes as dark as they could be stared at your breathing chest, the small gap of his shirt showing your soft skin "Y/N... I need my shirt back"

"It looks good on me, doesn't it"

"Too good" he groaned as he kissed your collarbone, his hand travelling back to your leg and up to the inner thigh, your heart drummed in your chest, the air was getting thick and your core was getting wet "give it to me" he pleaded

You broke apart and nodded, why are you hiding? Your hands took the buttons in front and started to undo them, slowly and surely while he was waiting patiently, the shirt opened just to expose the middle of your torso and your navel.

"hey" he murmured looking down and up at you "You don't need to open it now"

"Then tell me why it feels alright doing it?" you said and your hands were quick to push the shirt down your arms leaving it forgotten, cornered by the couch that it might absorb it. Your eyes were glued however in the pulsating vein by his neck until his finger raised your chin

"You are still someone unable to be defined by a word" he whispered "beyond what the word beautiful means or any other"

You hummed unfit to say anything and you saw the delicacy of his touch. One of his hands was placed by the side of your head so he wouldn't fall on you, the other softly cupped your breast and traced the round shape. You could see the curiosity, his fingers pinching your nipple and you moaned "It's so soft" he mumbled "And this" he pinched the other nipple and felt it hardening under his palm "This is... everything I thought"

"Am I what you imagined me to be?"

"And more," he said and leaned down "Allow me"

"I-" but you were shushed by the erotic sound of a sucking noise, his lips latched onto your nipple, and you felt his tongue swirling around it and his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You could feel him sucking the tender spot, the warmth spreading from the tips of your fingers to your toes and you moaned hard.

Benedict was delighted by the sound of your pleasure, his hand caressing the other breast, his thumb pressing the bud until you could only gasp, he stopped and moved to the other nipple.

"You're a tease"

"Let me play"

"Benedict" you groaned and arched your back to press your breast more against him. The scene was like the water you drink in the middle of the night, your mind could not process the moment and still, you could feel it all, your breast, the swelling too close to his face "oh"

Benedict however could not wait, he just couldn't. The sight of you, your warmth was inviting, more inviting than the day before, than any other thing he has done with, for, and by you. He pushed himself back, his hands travelled to your wait and hips and he left -agonizingly- your breasts now covered in his spit. His hands slid down to your thighs and opened them wider, he sat in his heels and took in the view of the most secretive part of your body -yet- he cursed at the pantalettes and then looked at you flushed, red and pink and all colours for him.

"Y/N..."

You saw he wanted to take them away and so you nodded. What could he do? You thought. He's done so much. He could do anything to you and you'd let him, and so his hand slipped into the sides of your undergarment and slid down your thighs. The air hit your exposed body, the wetness dripping from you and Benedict saw. He saw all.

"My goodness" he whispered, his hand trembling "Oh my goodness, Y/N"

You looked away, the sudden shyness taking over, and you could not look at him.

"Look at me" he commanded "Y/N"

"I-"

"Look at me"

Slowly you turned your face and saw his eyes. They were hungry, the pupils blown and his lips were swollen. You bit your lip and he hissed.

"What do you think?"

"You're divine, I can't- oh" his hands were caressing your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles around your inner thighs "You are... more than words can describe"

"Don't use words, please"

He chuckled "Very well" he grazed your folds with his finger and you welcomed it for the second time that "I'll kiss you"

Ignorantly, you plucked your lips and waited however the puck laste a second because you "Uuuuuh!" you flinched but Benedict held you in place.

The sole image of his face close to your core started to drive you insane "What-"

"Shush, honey"

Honey indeed as he kissed your wet core, his tongue explored you, the taste, the sensation, the feeling, he was addicted to you and the moans, the way your hips were starting to grind into his mouth were driving him insane. His hand held you down and his tongue explored, lapped and sucked, his nose nuzzled against your clit and the way his tongue slipped inside your hole, he could not help the groan, his own arousal was hurting him but he wanted you. All of you.

"Benedict!"

He knew what he was doing, the tip of his tongue was teasing the entrance, your juices dripping, the sound of his lips and tongue lapping at you echoed around the studio.

Perhaps you were moving too much you thought. You were squirming and this was not like when he put his fingers inside of you. This was something else, so dirty and so good. Your hips were on their own, you kept arching, buckling, squirming and his chestnut hair was the only thing you could see.

"Ben" you articulated "Ben"

But he roared like a lion, the vibrations sending you over the edge, his tongue was thrusting in and out, his nose brushing the bud of nerves and you cried. He gripped tighter, he was not letting go.

"Ben!" you cried, the sensation too much for your own survival that night and still you managed to say "Ke-keep... going-Ah"

He lost it with your taste that he swore he would never stop doing this, your cries, the stocking threatening to fall, your breasts heaving and your nipples swollen. He has found his place.

And it came, you came on his face as he travelled inside of you with his tongue, your walls clenching around his tongue and his thumb was pressing against the bud. You could feel your eyes rolling, black coming and vision returning. Still, Benedict kept taking all of you, licking you and tasting.

"Enou-Benedict-ah!" you moaned, his tongue still getting into you, his nose hitting your clit "I can't, ah!"

And until your last clenching that is when he stopped, like a madman he looked up to see the sweat on your face, your body twitching and your eyes unfocused.

"I told you" he breathed heavily, his chest also heaving, the bulge in his pants evident and he licked his lips "I'll devour you"

"Why on earth you didn't do that since the beginning?!"

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #smut #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #18+ only #18+ content #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton smut

[ikroah]

I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole, and then I followed it in, I watched myself crawling out as I was a-crawling in. I got up so tight, I couldn't unwind, I saw so much, I broke my mind… —“Just Dropped In (to See What Condition My Condition Was In),” The First Edition (1968)

It Keeps Right On A-Hurtin’ #28 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding VII

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Notes / Transcript:

Notes

Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to type those words? "End of Volume 2?" We have been on Volume 2 for just over three years. Obviously it's unfair to compare it to the breakneck pace of Volume 1, because... I got burned out (I got better), I got divorced (I got better), and most importantly, I've spent all three of these years overhauling my approach to art, which is to say, I got better. My canvas size doubled because my initial naive approach of "smaller pages means less art, which means faster art" was holding me back: I wanted more art, and the subjects of too many panels had gotten flubbed due to what was basically a pathetically low rendering distance. I revamped my approach to coloring entirely, leaning into a vibrant, saturated, and faux-comic halftone style that I vastly prefer to my more grounded, gradient-driven work beforehand. I changed IKROAH's font (Unmasked!), I changed Agnes's appearance slightly (she's far less gaunt, which was an early design choice I've thrown away, plus I think I'm much better at drawing her consistently now), and so much more. Comics are a time-consuming artform and while a lot of what made this volume take so long was out of my control, and well worth not pushing myself through, the total reinvention of how I actually make comics was the single best thing to come out of Volume 2.

It's a lot of lessons and groundwork that I'm very eager to take into Volume 3, which I have spent every single one of these years viciously impatient for. Now, it's finally here. See you at the cover reveal.

Original Pencils

Something that I have been working a lot harder on with my art lately is inking: actual inking, not merely "outlining" and figuring out the rest by the seat of my pants digitally. I've come to realize that the fewer steps of my production process that I try to do digitally, the more fun it is to make art as a whole, and inking was something that I was very intimidated by for the longest time. What happens if I mess up! It's permanent marker, after all! But after all the practice that I've done, I'm really happy with how bold and confident the shadows are on this issue, and they're perfect for how moody and dramatically lit the whole thing is. You can compare the pencils to the inks to the final products and really see how I planned out the overall composition.

Transcript

INT. LUCKY 38 PRESIDENTIAL SUITE, VERY LATE AT NIGHT. The lights are all off in this luxurious, distinctly pre-war abode. It is almost empty.

RADIO: Welcome back to the program, folks. This is Mr. New Vegas—and I hope I'm not coming on too strong. We've got some news for you, coming right up.

The only real light in the suite comes from the glowing screen of the Securitron VICTOR, standing in front of the private elevator.

RADIO: Tops Hotel owner Benny has been killed by an unidentified assailant. According to his fellow Chairmen, shots were heard in his private suite, and his body was found inside. They are urging all visitors to please keep an eye out for suspicious individuals and behavior on the New Vegas Strip. The new head of the Chairmen, Benny's former right-hand man Swank, consoled mourners: "If I know my pal Benny, he's swinging with the Big Cat Upstairs as we speak. Or he's chasing some angel broad with cans as big as her halo!"

RADIO: In other news—

In a guest bedroom off to the side, ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY is sound asleep. Her belongings are neatly folded on the dresser, except for the cocktail dress that she was wearing, which has been thrown onto the ground.

RADIO: —refugees at Bitter Springs are giving startling accounts of the legate known as Lanius, who is said to be Caesar's top field commander. One refugee told us the legate took over an underperforming squad of troops by beating its commander to death in full viw of everyone. The legate then ordered a tenth of his own force be killed by the other nine tenths. And you thought your boss was a pain!

RADIO: You know, I think all news, whether it's good or bad, brings us closer together. Don't you?

Directly across from the elevator, across from VICTOR, are the shut doors to the master bedroom.

RADIO: These headlines, brought to you by Vault 21...Vault 21! Everything is better when you experience it...in a vault.

Inside the master bedroom, AGNES SANDS sits on the edge of the bed, wide awake. The RADIO plays from her PIP-BOY, which provides a slight amount of light in the dark room.

RADIO: Gonna play a song for you right now—it's about that special someone, that you can only find once...in a "Blue Moon."

"Blue Moon" begins to play from the radio. AGNES's head remains lowered in rumination.

Suddenly, the radio broadcast cuts out.

SFX: KZZRRRSSHHTTZ

RADIO: Has your life taken a turn?

A NEW VOICE speaks on the radio. It's dreamy, seductive.

RADIO: Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind?

AGNES remains in thought.

But then: she lifts her head.

And she looks over at the radio.

RADIO: If so, then the Sierra Madre Casino,

The PIP-BOY displays: 11.09.81, 4:13. <<Signal Unknown>>

RADIO: in all its glory, invites you

AGNES listens.

RADIO: to begin again.

AGNES is now somewhere else.

EXT. MOJAVE DESERT. At sunrise, AGNES SANDS is perched atop a ridge somewhere in the desert. Her overcoat billows behind her, and her shoulder-mounted flashlight beams straight ahead. She looks manic. In one hand, she clutches her duffel bag, full of every belonging she has. Her other hand is wearing her PIP-BOY, and the radio broadcast continues:

RADIO: Come to a place where wealth, excitement, and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort. Make new friends...or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert, under clear starlit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our scenic Villa rooftops. Countless diversions await. Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you...and cater to your every whim.

Below the ridge is a pile-up of wrecked shipping containers. One of them opens up toward the surface like a gaping throat of metal. It leads somewhere, deeper into the earth.

RADIO: So if life's worries have weighed you down—if you need an escape from your troubles—or if you just need an opportunity to begin again—

The source of the broadcast signal is coming from INSIDE.

RADIO: —then join us.

AGNES descends into the container, revealing a makeshift staircase of sheet metal that leads into darkness.

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

The signal from inside the tunnel is now audible. It overlaps with AGNES's PIP-BOY...

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

Until she sees it.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

A pre-war, art deco type radio, sitting on a metal pedestal. It speaks to her.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

AGNES stares at the radio, bewildered.

She barely notices the HULKING FIGURE about to grab her from behind.

RADIO: We'll be waiting.

END OF VOLUME 2

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #dead money #agnes sands #it keeps right on a hurtin #ikroah archive #volume 02 #28

[shakingparadigm]

it makes me very sad that we never seem to get till's perspective on the story... his rs with mizi is so underexplored when it literally constitutes a core aspect of his character (and this in turn lead to some uncharitable interpretations by those who want ivans love to be requited and well, the fandom in general), we barely even know abt his dynamics with other characters besides Ivan (and even that isnt told through his eyes), his past is just visible through glimpses etc. there's just so. Little about him. And yet he's such an interesting and complex little guy, i really really hope now that king yaoi the third's arc has concluded, we finally get some till crumbs bc im starving. or maybe the authors just downright hate him lmao

I've thought about this for quite a while!

I agree! Unlike the rest of the cast, Till doesn't have his own content where he states his thoughts and emotions (like Mizi's monologue, the Hyuna and Luka comic, Ivan's confession comic, the Mizisua interview + all other interviews). In many pieces of official art, Till is either a supporting character or comic relief, rarely in the focus. Although we saw a bit of him in the contents leading up to (and the few arts after) ROUND 6, ultimately they were centered on Ivan.

We've yet to hear from Till himself, to understand his thoughts from his own words and not from the perspective of other characters. On the rare occasion the focus is on him, it's devoted to his adoration for Mizi.

His relationship with Mizi underexplored... I mean, it is, but I feel that was intentional. Despite all his attachment to Mizi, he never actually managed to get close to her (although he spent a majority of his childhood trying). The goodbye letters reveal Till's regret at this fact, and from other pieces of content we can see that he was always too shy and afraid to approach her. His love for Mizi seems shallow and underdeveloped because, well, that's kind of just how it is. He's in love with the image of her he admired from afar. It's puppy love to the highest degree, but you know how humans in ALNST are. They'd completely break themselves down for love.

Funnily, this all seems in character for Till. We don't get to hear his thoughts because he's too rebellious for an interview. His most significant presence in the comics are when they are Ivan-centered, we lack his perspective because the moment always matters more to Ivan than it does to Till. His relationship with Mizi is underdeveloped because he himself has an underdeveloped understanding of her.

Okay, I know I keep going on about "oh we never get to hear Till's side!", but I acknowledge the fact that with Till, they seem to be going with a more "show, not tell" angle. We can't gauge how his thought process works through monologue, but the little things he does can say a lot about him (Crying over his lost recorder, a gift from Mizi. Picking fights when flowers are treated cruelly. Encouraging a wilting flower to keep surviving). He's not one for long monologues anyway, Till follows his heart through passionate action. Still, I really hope to one day have a comic narrated by him, something to put us in his perspective.

And on the last note, don't even worry about the authors hating him! I find it so funny to hear that, actually. QMENG and VIVINOS adore Till. He's actually QMENG's favorite! They love him so much they inserted themselves into a meme fangirling over him.

That's them right there. For their baby boy. Anyways, hopefully we can learn more about Till now that he's the only survivor left in the competition to face Luka. Apparently, they've had ROUND 7 planned for a really long time now. Both excited and nervous to see how it goes!

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage till #alnst till #i might not have worded myself properly here #but yeah! #asks

[inquebrar]

OK. WAIT A SECOND.

another OST from Begins ≠ Youth ("Breathe") was released (the first one was "Take It All" which is absolutely a work of art) and in the MV of the last one THEY INCLUDED THIS SCENE

?!#?$?$+(#??!!#?# SIR DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE?!

they just added another scene THAT WE DIDN'T SAW IN THE SERIES in the middle of the mv like nothing and didn't elaborate. so the only explanation i can find to this is a reaffirmation of the fandom "theory" that we will actually have another season that has most likely already been recorded:

so here are some more scenes that i realized haven't happened yet ↓

ALL THESE SCENES seem to be important and i wouldn't see an explanation as to why they would delete them, especially this part that i had already commented on once:

after the end of episode 12, this scene seems to me even more that here we see Hwan after already traveling through time trying to "fix things" this explains the feeling that this scene conveys that he knows the boys while the others seem confused...

AND A FEW ADDITIONAL SCENES OF MY PROTECTED BABIES AKA CEIN AND JEHA

99% chance this is the scene before the one where we see Jeha helping Cein with the injuries from the fight. the curiosity to know what made Cein get into a fight with those boys in front of Jeha is consuming my being, i need answers!!

this one i believe is Jeha talking to his mother? maybe? and Cein looking from afar maybe remembering his own mother and missing her or something? or concern for Jeha because he knows what his relationship with family is like? idk... but also as hyyh yoonkook sickens the neurons in my brain, i also thought about the possibility of it being Jeha talking to a girl and Cein getting jealous [sorry i'm not normal about them and i know it.]

now, inhale exhale inhale exhale

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

when how why what??!?!?!!

is this one of the results of Hwan changing things and this happens instead of the brick scene?! because we see Jeha walking like that before, could it be that after managing to prevent Jeha's half brother from sending those false messages and setting up the trap, Cein finds Jeha walking in the middle of the road among the cars and runs to help?? HELP ME

at the end of the day, this all only fueled my hopeful mind and made me even more certain that season 2 is real and now we just have to wait for it to be released. otherwise i'll kms /j

#begins youth #begins ≠ youth #bts hyyh #kdrama #begins youth theories #hyyh

[crystalreydraws]

Hello hi I just found out you're the artist of my favorite pic of Jamil from all time 🥹 I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO MUUUUCH his bday art from 2020!! It's my favorite one from every art and he looks so pretty and hot and cool and like he's in a music clip and about to drop a fire verse!! I LOVE your painting style so much, as a baby artist, would you one day show us how you color? I'm sure you put so much blood, sweat and tears into your hard work and it would great to get a little bit of that wisdom. Please keep drawing, keep doing what you love because it makes the world a better place to live!

Sketched my sleepy and tired oc to do a very quick demonstration but it covers how I color when i render things:

Start with rough greyscale first, it's a good start to roughly decide light direction and value of your overall work. Especially if you have no idea on your shading.

Next, apply base color to greyscale. I'll use gradient map if I want to keep the details of my greyscale. But if not, I'll just start with a flat base color, and try whatever I can to apply color.

Rendering phase. Add layers and just paint on top to refine it. Merge all layers if it's too messy. Then add layers again. My rendering really depends on how much time taken because it's just a loop of paint over and refining. Thats why i do more simple fanart cuz I sometimes get bored of rendering Also at this stage when doing lineless style, I merge lineart with layers and cover up the lines.

Final touch. Merge all layers and use [filter gallery > paint daubs (brush size 1, sharpness 2)]. It will sharpen your work and look detailed. Or add some very fine noise texture, it will look detailed too.

Another very rough demonstration on how i apply color mood. This will be after step 2. And same will be more refining and even paint over to ensure the colors look ok.

Other tips:

Add warm and cool colors especially on skin.

Use pinterest. Always find more than one reference for a subject if you want to draw better than yesterday. Pure ref is a nice tool to gather reference on your pc. When i draw a single hand I had a lot of ref. (pose, color temperature, lighting, photos, artwork, all diff ref)

Color theory is so important I still struggle a lot. I highly recommend beginners start from practicing Marco Bucci's ball practice. After that slowly change to adding character into movie scene and photographs, the purpose is to adapt different color moods and learn the lighting from the image. Learn more from famous movie and cinematic. They did their best to nail the colors.

Anyway,

this is a long answer about how I color. My previous job influenced me so much on coloring so there's a lot of thinking and struggle on my colors.

So, I suggest you be more experimental and try new ways, at the end what remains is what fits you.

#crystalreydraws

[salchat]

So, here's another Dean. This one's in neocolor crayon, which are very soft crayons - you can use water with them, but I haven't here, because the paper's newsprint and it would fall to pieces very quickly if I used water.

While I was drawing, I was pondering various arty matters. Mainly, how some art/craft posts - mostly on Facebook rather than here - irritate the hell out of me. You know the ones. Where there's some amazing piece of art/craft, but the caption is something like, 'please be kind - it's my first time!' When it's blatantly not their first time, unless art and craft is just plain easy, which it isn't. Anyway, I'm not sure why people make those posts - for others to comment how amazing they are? I suppose. But it must be pretty hollow to receive such compliments. Unless it really is their first time. And even then...

So, anyway, it made me think, why do I post my art? What exactly do I get out of it? Do I do it to receive validation in the form of compliments? I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but I just wanted to be really honest with myself. And also, why do I make art in the first place and why this particular type of art, drawing the same characters over and over?

Well, I think I draw for the same, or similar reasons that I write - because it's my own world, that I can control. There's comfort there, isn't there? And comfort in the characters I draw and write about - they're not called comfort characters for nothing, after all. And they're beautiful, aren't they? They're just damn beautiful. Why wouldn't I want to draw them?

So, I guess I want to pour my love into creating something beautiful, or as near beauty as I can get. And I choose to do that with my crayons or my charcoal or my pastels because I love those things too - their colours, the way they spread, the way you can make big, soft marks or sharp, dark marks, the way you can smush them around with your fingers, the way you can just mess about and sometimes it doesn't work and sometimes you get an amazing effect that you didn't know was possible. I love drawing randomly, roughly, searching and searching until I find what I want.

But why post online? Hmm... Well, yes, it is nice when people think what I've created is technically skilful. I have an ego that likes to be stroked, same as anyone else. But if that was the only reason, I'd probably cheat. Some people do. And if that makes them happy, who am I to criticize?

Anyway, I think what I'm after is connection, which is in no way an original thought. That's what makes fandom so wonderful, isn't it? The way you can find connections with other people all over the world. I think when I post, I'm looking for people who love the same kinds of things that I do - the same characters, obviously, but also the same kind of approach to art. The colours and the roughness, the playfulness and the 'continuing mission' to find beauty. I think I post in the hopes that someone will see my art and think, 'hey, I like that.' And that they'll feel a little spark of joy.

I think that's what all our fan creations are about. You get the firework of joy and excitement that goes off when you create your story or your picture and then, around the fandom world, other people get a spark struck from your joy. Which is pretty flowery stuff, but, hey - I'm a writer, aren't I?

That's enough rambling. Nearly. Because I also want to do the thing I often do, which is totally anti the 'it's my first time!' kind of posts. This is very far from my first time and I want you to see the crappiness of my progress shots, because it's important to know that there's almost always a lot of crappy stages before you reach something you consider beautiful. Not perfect. I'm not after perfection, which is impossible anyway, and I would never say any of my stuff is perfect because it's far from perfect and I don't want that - I want life and humanity and striving toward something.

I'm gonna shut up now, because there are burgers to be cooked and chocolate cake to be eaten, and hey! Doctor Who's on soon! Bye!

#dean winchester #my art #rambling #waffling

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Hi! A bit of a weird ask here, hope you don't mind. (I swear it's not meant in bad faith)

So, I'm new to the fandom. I'd wanted to watch the show for a while and I finally found time. I did like it, and all the characters, esp Hen and Buck.

Even previous to watching it, I had seen many posts about Buddie. I didn't think much of it until I watched the show. And now I can say... I don't see it. Like, from Buck's side? Sure. But from Eddie's? Not so much.

They both clearly act like Christopher's co-parents a lot, and that's where I'm like "oh, maybe there IS something". But outside of that, I actually see their interactions as mostly platonic. And when I see people talk about it, I see mostly about how Eddie completely trusts Buck with his son (which I agree with and makes a good point), but not much else.

So, what am I missing? Sometimes some characters are harder for me to "read", so I know there could be stuff that I'm missing. What interactions do you see from them that are so clearly romantic (at least more so than they are platonic)? In which ways do you see Eddie showing feelings for Buck?

Sorry about such a long ask. This might be more of a rant (oops). I just really want to understand, bc everyone's so sure... and I'm not. (Also, thanks for reading if you got this far)

So i’m obviously not going to tell you thst your interpretation is wrong- art is subjective and your interpretation of things is completely valid.

that being said, to me i see myself in eddie in a lot of ways:

- only son in the family, so i had unrealistic expectations fixed on me about what my life as a “man” should look like (im not a man, im nonbinary but i was still amab so to my parents i’ve always been a ‘man’)

- raised in a very religious household where there were certain expectations on who i would one day marry and have a family with (because not getting married at all and never having kids was out of the question)

- i was repressed for years emotionally (and sexually) due to pressure from my parents/church and thought there was something “wrong” with me for the feelings i felt

- i often revert to anger as my default defense mechanism because i have repressed my emotions for so long (which is something i am working through in therapy)

so seeing those things i relate to reflected in eddie, it is easy for me to pick up on subtext (whether intentional or not) when it comes to his sexuality/feelings for Buck.

you mentioned eddie trusting buck with christopher— to me this is one of the clearest examples of eddie’s true feelings for buck because he completely trusts the most precious thing in his life with Buck, but he has never even come close to that same kind of trust with any of his romantic partners… even shannon he was apprehensive about letting her back into chris’s life. this means he trusts buck on a level he has never trusted anyone else before— and not to get into psychology, but often when people are repressed emotionally, they find ways to feed those feelings without overtly feeding them if that makes sense. so eddie giving chris (who is practically his whole heart) to buck is essentially eddie offering up his heart on a platter.

so that gets that one out of the way.

as for other examples… i am going to state again that eddie is more repressed than buck and doesn’t show emotion as easily as buck does so Buck’s attraction/feelings are going to be more clear-cut and obvious.

but i am constantly seeing examples of eddie’s feelings for buck interwoven subtly through things:

- crying over buck after the lightning strike when we had only ever seen him cry twice before

- the hurt in his face when buck said natalia was the only person who “saw” him

- the way that he gets overly jealous and acts petty around buck’s romantic partners (the most egregious being Taylor, but we have seen it happen in his other relationships as well)

- the fact that he has never been able to fully allow himself to have feelings for the women he’s dated

- he is looking for a mother figure (second parental unit for chris) but has already effectively filled that role with buck

- he is constantly looking at buck like he hung the stars and the sun and the moon

- he has only started going off the deep end of this fixation with shannon after buck came out to him, and he is onyl actively remembering their relationship as what he wished it had been rather than what it was— something i used to do back when i was still in denial about my sexuality was imagining this dream life where i was happily married to a woman because that is what i was supposed to want, not because it’s what i actually wanted

- eddie is the only one who has shown he understands buck’s recklessness is less him being reckless/thinking he’s unbreakable, but that it’s actually buck seeing himself as invaluable enough that getting hurt wouldn’t affect anyone around him

- one of my favorite scenes is post lightning-strike when eddie climbed the ladder and instead of trying to lower buck to the ground immediately, he initially tries to pull buck closer to him while screaming for him

the list could go on and on and if anyone else wants to leave their observations on eddie’s feelings for buck in the replies by all means please do! but these are just a few ways in which i have personally seen eddie’s devotion to buck portrayed in a light that is much deeper than a platonic level.

i hope this made sense and offers a new perspective for you, and i’m glad that even though you haven’t seen enough evidence in your own interpretation, your first instinct isn’t to jump down people’s throats to tell them they are wrong, but instead reaching out and asking for other opinions to better contextualize why us buddie shippers are so invested in these two!

(and never apologize for a long ask to me… if there’s one thing about me i love to yap lmao)

i hope you have a lovely day, anon!! 💕💕

#911 abc #eddie diaz #buddie #911 spoilers #911 #evan buckley #buddie 911 #buck and eddie #911 on abc

[devsgames]

"Is Tumblr Blaze Worth It For Promoting My Indie Game?" - a Postmortem

Lately I've been thinking about marketing and promotion of my games and wanting to explore new avenues. Tumblr Blaze was one of those things I wanted to dip my toes into a bit to understand how it works and if it has potential for advertising my sort of stuff. Like as not, there's no point in making games if nobody actually plays them after all!

Conversely I have also heard bad things about Tumblr Blaze; that it's not very targeted, the reach is fairly limited, and people on this site generally hate anything that is Blazed to them.

I wanted to test all these waters a bit to see if it's something worth investing in, and share what I found for my own benefit and the benefit of others. Finding various info on topics like this for indie dev can be a pain, so why not share my findings?

The Plan and Goal

While Centauri Dark is still in development and is the thing I actually want to advertise more of right now, Bombing!! 2 is already out and is much more marketable with some cool art made by community members. I think as a first impression it tends to show well, so I decided to make my test post with that to get exposure to it and see how it goes.

My goal was mostly to see what a Blaze post does for advertising a launched indie game and how much "eyes on" it actually gets in terms of actual engagement.

Posting

From the outset I knew I wanted to make a post that 1) wasn't annoying to people just looking at the webbed site 2) featured a call to action of some kind I could measure 3) wouldn't break the bank.

Here's what I came up with:

The intention was to flash some cool looking art to grab their attention, explain what they're looking at, and then link the game a couple of times while mentioning "Buy or Wishlist" for good measure as a call to action.

Since Bombing!! 2 is such an art-forward game, I found the coolest art pieces made by community members that felt the most "Tumblr" to match the audience, and would also show off the range of art you could make in the game. I also wanted to make it personal, like me writing a message to whoever would read it instead of something that sounded like a standard ad. Generally I think it was a fairly reasonable little post that catches some interest and doesn't overstay too much of a welcome. What I think also helps is it's explicitly a "hey this might interest you" sort of framing (as opposed to a more "why am I even seeing this" sort of post you tend to get from Blaze sometimes).

I also think it's worth emphasizing that writing a posted explicitly intending to be Blazed was a much stronger approach than just Blazing some random post I had made for my own followers months ago, because I could align it to my promotional goals. It also assumed that random people on the Internet would be the ones seeing my post, and not the followers and friends who already know me and my work.

Blazing

As I looked into Blaze early on there was actually a few key things I wasn't fully aware of about the system.

It guarantees a minimum amount of views

It guarantees it will be Blazed for a minimum of 24 hours no matter how many views

You pay a single base rate for the whole campaign (great compared to some ads which tend to price based on views/engagement).

You can define an audience explicitly (some info that was floating around lead me to believe this wasn't the case).

Campaigns come in a few amounts:

I paid for the 2nd tier; $17 USD for a campaign, which amounts to $25 CDN. I wanted to go a little more into it than the lowest tier offered, since I figured the lowest wouldn't give me as much data as I would've liked and I wanted to know what to reasonably expect should I decide to do it again in the future.

Since Bombing!! 2 sells for ~$20USDI also figure if the Blaze campaign prompts at least two people to buy the game then the Blaze would have paid for itself.

Blaze lets you use tags to define which audiences you want to reach. Unfortunately it doesn't let you view that data after you've applied it, but the tags I chose were generally anyone who spoke English and has an interest in Digital Artist or Video Game circles.

The campaign ran for 24 Hours, starting yesterday and ending today.

The Results

I definitely noticed a sharp uptick in engagement during the campaign! It hit the target audience of ~7k around one hour into the campaign, after which point I noticed engagement take a sharp decline.

Here's the Blaze campaign analytics provided by Tumblr (which was also very helpful to have):

So it seems ~12.5k views from Blaze, ~370 likes, ~80 reblogs, 5 shares elsewhere. The post itself has ~520 notes, so I assume there's some reblogging and liking happening from beyond the Blaze campaign that isn't pictured here. The good thing is that despite having reached its 7k target after only 1 hour, it continued to circulate and be Blazed until 24 hours later. Eventually the post made it to ~12k views overall, which was nearly double the amount promised by the campaign - I attribute this mostly to a strong post/target audience/subject matter and I'm sure it's not standard.

Here's the general velocity of engagement around when the post was Blazed:

It jumped much more than I honestly expected, but you can tell Blaze seemed to put it in front of people's faces more than my regular posts do. You can see it drops off sharply as I hit the quoted amount as well, back down to the normal amount of engagement I get on Tumblr.

But this stuff isn't really what I was looking for; I was looking for sales and keeping an eye on 'conversions' - or how many users followed my call to action because of the post. Likes and stuff are fine and cool, but how many people bought or wishlisted the game on Steam as a result of seeing the post on Tumblr?

Tumblr and Blaze obviously have no way of telling me this, so I'm looking to Steam to show me changes there.

Here's what Steam shows me happened to the Bombing!! 2 views yesterday:

That's not nothing! This shows the last month's worth of traffic to the Bombing!! 2 page, and that number was at least double yesterday as it was regularly. It's very cool to know a number of people did actually click through to the game page in order to view the game from the Blaze post.

But the real REAL question is how many bought or wishlisted the game because of this post?

I'll start with Sales, on a graph of 1 month of data:

Flat line :( Which is fine though, as the game wasn't on Sale and was just reaching people for the first time. I didn't honestly expect any immediate sales from this, and was more focused on other engagement anyways. Honestly I would be surprised if someone saw the game on a Blaze post and bought it immediately. I mean it's good but it's probably not THAT good!

Now to Wishlists, which can be a good indicator of who might likely buy your game in the future. Basically if someone has added a game to their wishlist, there's reason to believe they might buy it in the future, which is good for your game.

Here's the Wishlists for Bombing!! 2 from the last month:

That's 23 Wishlists in one day! That's roughly ~18 Wishlists more than an average day!

It's hard to know if some of these are because of the post or just a statistical fluke. However, when compared to previous trends on the game page that's quite a noticeable difference. It means even if no one bought it now, they were interested enough to add it to their shortlist. Looking at it another way, if two people who Wishlisted decided to buy the game in the future the campaign will have paid for itself.

Conclusions

I think like any advertising if you go into it with a plan in mind and try to build something around a specific action, Blaze seems pretty worth it to me especially if I just want to get eyes on something. On top of the obvious data telling me people were interested in the game, there was a few folks who just plain complemented the game or acknowledged it 'was the first Blaze post they were actually interested in', which felt worth it in it's own qualitative sort of way.

I think having an idea of the message I wanted to send really helped, and I'm sure I'd happily do this again with a larger audience and another plan (and probably will do it for when Centauri Dark releases).

#gamedev #game dev #game development #indie games #indie game #gamedevelopment #indiegames #indiedev #indie dev #bombinggame #blog #blaze #tumblr blaze #game design #thoughts

[imitationgame77]

Handoff initiated

[contains some spoilers from System Collapse by Martha Wells]

I was reading System Collapse, and wondered about differences in communication styles/limitations between ART and MB, and between ART and Iris.

[At the beginning of System Collapse when ART-drone gets separate from main ART just before the blackout zone]

ART's drone rose up out of the back row behind me [...]. The handoff hadn't occurred yet, but we were almost to the blackout point, forty-two seconds to go.

[...]

On the team feed, ART said, Handoff initiated. Good luck.

"Acknowledged. Thanks, Peri," Iris said, smiling. "Be careful up there. See you soon."

On my private feed, ART said, Take care of them. And yourself. Before I could come up with a reply, my awareness of ART, its cameras, its feed and comm, the humans working and talking to each other on ART, or using the comm to talk to Mensah and the other humans on the Preservation responder, dropped away. I had expected it to be immediate, but the voices and signals gradually lost volume, fading into an echo, then into nothing.

[Then when they reconnect with ART, and ART retrieves everything from ART-drone and they become one again]

ART slid into the shared processing space with ART-drone. For a brief moment, there was two of it. [...]

I was monitoring ART-drone's systems and it was dropping toward catastrophic failure. I said, You need to hurry.

ART: handoff initiated.

ART-drone: handoff.

And ART-drone shut down. Suddenly, it was just a chunk of metal. Iris made a half-sob noise that startled me so badly I flinched. She [...] and said on our private channel, Did they have time for the upload?

Yes, I said.

It struck me that even though Iris is an augmented human, interacting with ART since they were both babies, and its favourite human, she does not seem to have the full awareness of ART in her feed unlike MB does. She needs to be told when hanoff is initiated. She also didn't know whether ART-drone had time to upload everything to ART before it shut down, which terrified her with the possibility of losing even a little piece of her beloved Peri.

MB, on the other hand, could feel ART's presence in its feed as soon as they are within range. It could also monitor ART-drone's systems, just like ART (and ART-drone) has been monitoring MB's internal status. I wonder ART chose to conduct the handoff in the shared processing space between ART-drone and MB for a brief catch-up, or MB could observe handoff because it has been given full access to ART-drone.

Somewhere, MB mentioned that humans with some special augment can interact with feed more directly, like Gurathin did, but even with augments humans are slow and cannot process multiple things simultaneously unlike SecUnits. Maybe that is why Iris does not have access to ART's system as she is incapable to handling multiple inputs and would get confused.

I really liked the scene following the handoff where MB and Iris share some emotions. And seems like ART loved its favourite two sharing a moment about itself!

#the murderbot diaries #tmbd #asshole research transport #perihelion #system collapse #handoff #murderbot

[yuri-is-online]

Hello hello! Anon here. First of all, congratulations on getting accepted for your courses! Don't worry about trying to balance work and the blog, we will always be here waiting for you. Second of all, your whole Yutu AU has been really fascinating to look through. (Though that may be because of my bias toward Fire Emblem Awakening, as it was what got me into the series) Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but it's been giving me THOUGHTS.

So imagine this: whoever Yutu's dad is (I'll pick Azul for this example because I headcannon his English voice somewhere between Matt Mercer's Chrom and Olivert from The Legend of Heroes games) finds out who Yutu really is. You remember that cutscene after Chapter 13 in Awakening, with the Lucina reveal and Chrom has this: "You deserved better than a sword and a world full of troubles. I'm sorry."? Imagine Yutu hearing something like that: the acknowledgement of everything he's gone through, the pain of knowing his dad couldn't do anything and can't do anything more than offer words, and the reality that it might now be really possible to change the future? I imagine Azul breaking down after hearing all that because the last thing he wants to do is hurt Yuu or his son after everything he's been through. Oh goodness, the two of them both need hugs.

Second: did Crowley tip off the Magic Marshalls (because I think he would) and force Yuu to take the blame for his negligence (because he absolutely would)? Now imagine Yutu finding this out and telling his dad. Now his dad knows Crowley is a cheapskate who fobs his work onto everyone else without a second thought. And now he's responsible for having Yuu taken away and starting all this? Knowing the boys and how far they would go for Yuu I'd imagine they don't take that well. In other words, to slightly alter a quote from Regina in Once Upon A Time: "I guess killing a crow suddenly made the top of my to-do list."

Sorry for the wall of text but that's been rattling around in my head for a few days (so make of it all what you will). Hope you're doing well and looking forward to what's next!

-The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

AHHHHH (i feel like I always take forever to answer your asks I am sosososososososososo sorry, this one just drove me crazy in a good good way)

Listen fire emblem awakening was my entire personality for like all of middle school.  The only thing i wanted to talk about was chrobin.  I celebrated Morgan and Lucina's birthdays by drawing them. I think I still have a Cherche x Libra fan art thing I drew on some sheet of paper somewhere in my things because I was SO MAD that no one shipped them and I couldn't find fan art of them anywhere and I just oooooooooooh.  THE WAY CHROM GETS A NEW CRIT LINE ABOUT HOW ANYTHING CAN CHANGE AFTER THE REVEAL???? BECAUSE OF HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO KEEP THAT PROMISE AND GIVE LUCINA A BETTER WORLD???? i just cant be normal about them i am so sorry.  R+A annon I love you, I love you so much for this you made my entire month and possibly my year.  Awakening is also what got me into the series and made me so many friends I just love her so much.  She's an icon and I hope she gets remastered with Sumia either deleted or with a fucking personality.

I should probably sit down and actually write a timeline for myself of events, but since I am free to lean in to the fire emblem pacing, I want to say that monsters from Yutu's timeline start showing up (similar to how the Risen do in Awakening) in the past and stirring up trouble, which leads to an event where Yutu panics and forgets himself in his desperation to protect his dad.  The main way the future kids always proved themselves was by showing their mother's wedding ring, but Yutu doesn't have that so really it's just up to his dad to see someone who looks like him and Yuu blended together, supposedly from Yuu's world using magic and above all else crying out and driving up his own blot levels to protect him calling him dad. For Azul! Yutu it's especially painful, he feels like he already knows what his dad is going to say. That he's disappointed in him. That he has no idea how they could possibly be related. That he hopes in this future he turns out to be different. But that's not what happens.

Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

As for your second question, I did not really write Crowley like that no. It was more like he was the first person mysteriously arrested after the Magical Marshall's decided to finally do their job. I was writing it like they wanted to ship Yuu away to cover up for their own incompetence in preventing seven overblots instead of properly investigating what might have caused that. He's not completely innocent though, so yes. The boys do not take it well at all. And please do not apologize for sending in your thoughts, I am so so slow but I love hearing from you.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #azul ashengrotto x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle and azul anon

[pterygoidwalk]

DE2 VR

I've been playing with an idea for a DE sequel for a while I've been calling Video Revachol. just for fun, don't jump up my ass about any of this.

Disco = to learn and Disco Elysium = To Learn Elysium. Video = to see, so Video Revachol = To See Revachol; the story would involve tracking down Harry all over Revachol, starting at the Video Revachol rental store he kept having nightmares about.

here's more

A week after the Hanged Man case, Harry goes missing. You play as Kim, and the game kicks off with Jean visiting P57 to ask if you have any idea where Harry could have gone since you were the last person to spend any significant time with him in his new post-amnesia state.

This solves an issue I've had with the idea of a Harry POV DE sequel, that would have to pick a "canon" ending from DE to spring off of. Jean will interview Kim for details on how Harry was acting and you can describe any kind of Harry you played (or make one up wholesale), explaining to Jean what he was worked up about politically, whether he was sober or not, how well he did his job etc etc. Basically a more detailed version of Kim's assessment at the end of DE but the player is the one dictating it. This impacts what Harry is doing while MIA.

Regardless of the Harry you describe, Jean recruits Kim to help him search for him because a missing police officer is a huge deal, esp one as unstable and erratic as du Bois. Just like Kim does in DE, Jean can suggest where to go next and discuss the case with you as your partner. He obviously has a lot of insight into how Harry thinks, but you aren't dealing with quite the same Harry he's used to.

See this post for an explanation on the modified clothing mechanics Kim and Jean have. They don't steal clothes like Harry does, so you're limited to clothes they already have or can get thru legitimate means. Kim can mod some clothes he finds if they aren't too dirty or stupid looking.

The plot follows a search that goes all over Revachol, starting at Video Revachol and Harry's nearby apartment and then going from there.

Kim has his own set of skills and thought projects, but you aren't starting with a clean slate like Harry. Instead of amnesia, Kim's got a lot of repression and mental blocks compartmentalizing things that will take time to open up. One of the big ones is what happened to his old partner, Eyes.

Dominic "Eyes" Aguilar was Kim's satellite officer. The two of them were close, and it is very vague initially what happened to him. Kim *refuses* to dwell on it, and you'll need to complete a few mental exercises to even let him meditate on the subject. There are hints that Eyes might have been killed, others that he died of an overdose, or that he just quit or was fired. This is a parallel to Harry and Dora, but different because whatever happened to Dom happened very recently. Kim has not been dealing with it in a healthy way. Lots of phantom Doms crop up visually and as auditory hallucinations; his absence is fresh and Kim hasn't adjusted to it.

This affects his dynamic with Jean, a recently orphaned satellite officer. Kim tries to keep him at arm's length emotionally and you can do that successfully, or you can let Kim open up to him. I like the idea of it mirroring the "gruff older man adopts a lost child" trope that was popular in the 2010s, but the lost child is a 34 yr old cop with depression and anger issues.

Other story beats I keep thinking about:

At some point the Kineema is taken out of commission (either damaged or Kim's captain rescinds authorization to use it for some reason), so they take Harry's old motorcycle with a sidecar, inspired by this one sketch by DE's art director. Kim is a huge fan, and Jean... isn't.

When unable to tag along with Kim, Jean has a cop horse he rides around. This way he can leave the scene for various reasons without taking Kim's transport option away. Her name is something stupid like Pookie or Cookie and Jean loves her even tho she's mean. Kim does not like horses and will not attempt to ride her even if prompted.

What happened to Harry is determined by the description you give of him in the beginning. It all has something to do with the Shivers visions telling him about the very terrible thing that's going to happen to Revachol if he doesn't stop it (or, if you described a particular type of Harry, he might be trying to expedite it in a way where he'll come out with some power over what's left)

Kim has a decomptage but it's in disarray after losing Eyes. His team is also majority young women, which gets him some comments. If you eavesdrop/EDC some of his team you find out there's a whisper network among women in the RCM, and Kim's considered a good guy to work for because, quote, "He won't call you with a love confession at 3 am like the other bellends here". This can cause some conflict for Kim because obviously he wants to be a safe mentor for these officers, but female officers trying to join his team has caused some unneeded scrutiny towards him from the other men at P57. You gonna keep up the feminist thing even if it alienates you from 80% of your blue brothers? huh??

Kim's entire relationship with the RCM is framed like an abusive one. The more Kim leans into the cop identity, the more power he feels but the more paranoid and jumpy he gets. A LOT of his fellow officers treat him like shit and you can even get Kim fixated on the idea that some of his team want him dead and out of the way.

like. fucking obviously i want kim and jean to flirt. It becomes very clear that Jean's lonely and misses Harry, so he tries to get Kim to bond with him. You can shut him down or open up-- this is tied to progress on any of the thought projects/compartmentalization deconstruction relating to Eyes. Kim won't let himself get close to Jean without processing some of that grief.

#video revachol au #idk what im doing with this but it's fun to think about

[staplersalad]

I did it all backwards.

I listened to "Now and Then" a couple of days after it was released because I saw the channel "The Beatles" posted it- hey isn't this that old famous band? I vaguely remember back when those "guess the logo" games were all the rage, an illustration of the abbey road album cover was shown for The Beatles on a "guess the artist" version.

I was so blown away by the song, it was beautiful. I listened to it for days. I read about john's death because a lot of the comments talked about him. I'd definitely read about his death in the past because reading the wikipedia article gave me deja vu, but it must have been just another drop in the wave of content I consumed.

2 months passed, I listened to the song sometimes, discovering new scenes in the music video because I never actually sat down to watch it, I'd just play it in the background. I remember reading a comment about how John said that Ringo wasn't even the best drummer in the Beatles- what a dick! anyway who's Ringo? [john never said that btw, one of many false Beatles stories]

In February, somewhere between the 22nd and 26th- I had the brilliant idea of going to their yt channel and looking at their other songs. I came across the music video for "Only Sleeping", god what a great song! And after finding out about Em's painstaking work- what an incredible piece of art! I'd listen to the song for days, this time with my eyes glued to the music video in mesmerization.

Then it's all a blur. I first listened to all their popular songs on the channel, then the less popular ones [relatively obviously], then each album, each song, each interview, suddenly my pinterest was flooded with their pictures, I fell in love with each of them: John, Paul, George and Ringo. I was fascinated with John and Paul's dynamic. I was fascinated with the group. I suddenly sympathized with all the One Direction and BTS fans. I'd never felt this way for an artist before.

The funny thing is, the Beatles being so big meant that their music probably reached your ears before you even knew them. I remember recognizing "Blackbird" from "Boss Baby" and "Beautiful Boy" [john solo] from "Mr. Peabody and Sherman". I remember singing "and I will sing a lullaby" in the same tune as "Golden Slumbers" when I was younger.

I remember hearing "Yesterday" for the first time, my lips parted in recognition, some part of my brain recognized this as a famous song. It was like if someone played you an extremely famous classical piece, you wouldn't know know it but you'd recognize that it was famous. I was absolutely floored by Paul's work.

Then I'd re-read about john's death, this time it felt so different. I'd almost forgotten about it all really. I'd watch the get back documentary, I'd read more about events from 1970 to 1980, I'd get into their solo work, I'd fall in love with even more music, I'd read about their families. I'd learn to adore them but not put them on a pedestal because they were imperfect human beings [perfect musicians however].

Now john and george's death hit twice as hard. John's death angered me tremendously. I'd look at paul and ringo's recent interviews and pictures, finding it crazy how all this media I'd consumed at lightning speed all happened decades before I was even born. I'd learnt of 4 people, grew infatuated with them, learnt of their flaws, the fights, the breakup, the love, the friendship, the music and mourned their death- all in weeks. And I still have so much to listen, watch and read-it's brilliant really.

I remember listening to "Now and Then" much later, I'd avoided the song like the plague. I remember my eyes welling up, taking in john's voice, the lyrics, the four of them on my screen jumping ages. Just a couple of weeks changed the entire meaning and love I had for a song I just happened to stumble upon.

#the beatles #beatlemania #ringo starr #paul mccartney #george harrison #john lennon #music #fan #fanatic #my beatles journey #now and then #fandom