#remy and the rest of this title

[that-ari-blogger]

Critical Role's Cameraman

So, Critical Role (@criticalrole) just released their newest opening title sequence, an animated sequence in the same style of Your Turn To Roll and I would be remis as a film nerd to not pick apart every detail.

What fascinates me about this introduction, however, is the camera movement and shot composition. Allow me to explain.

I DONT THINK THERE ARE SPOILERS AHEAD, BUT JUST TO BE SAFE

So, we open with a hand, this is a close up, I don't think that is unobvious.

But this stops being a close up rather quickly, before it starts moving away. The shot just gives the hand context, and suddenly you aren't in an extreme close up of a hand, you are in a medium shot of a very large person. Then the camera pans backwards, and you can see villains and places spring up, although the perspective on Matt remains weird. Is he a few metres from you, or a hundred? How big is the Game Master here? There's a sense of mystery, of incomprehension. This is setting up some cosmic horror shenaniganry.

Then, we get Fearne. This is a wide camera motion, swivelling around her in a tracking shot that focuses on her face, and those eyes. It is like a reverse panorama, where Fearne is taking in the world, the world is observing Fearne.

But I want you to take note of the leaves here, because they are used to form a connection between her and Orym. The transition uses them, while it isn't a direct wipe transition (the leaf just flies close to mask an abrupt cut), it is framed as one. The name of that isn't important, though, what's important is the leaves. By being in both shots, they emphasise the relationship between the two characters. But where for Fearn they show off her sense of wonder, for Orym, they take on a very different meaning.

Notice, however, how still this shot is. There is no sense of danger here. This is a scene of a warrior with a sword and two people passing on from this world. But it's calm. Because this is a memory. Orym might not be at peace with the death, but the memory isn't a violent one, it's a memory of his family's lives.

Cut to a close up. Orym creates a gust of wind.

And cut to the next shot.

I will not lie, Bertrand is my favourite character across all of Critical Role, so this shot of him made me smile, but it isn't the point here. The point is Imogen's introduction.

Although is Bertrand not actually the point? Because take a look at how Imogen is shown here. Do you notice anything?

She's shown in the exact same way. Imogen is shown doing the exact same thing that those who have died have done. And she can see them ahead of her. The camera panning back shows a wider perspective here, showing her as she tries to run, tries to get away from the same path as Bertrand.

The wind from Orym's blade that came to this scene gets across a consistent element: Memory. This is a dream. But dreams can become nightmares.

As Imogen loses her footing, the camera gives some of its wildest movements yet. It tumbles around her, then looks up.

The camera stops moving when it sees the red moon, because now the viewer has something to orientate themselves around. There is a constant point, and we can see Imogen falling down. And getting closer, and closer, and closer, until.

These are the three frames in order, there is nothing in between.

Imogen crashes into the screen, and we get an abrupt impact frame (that's the black and white one) then Ashton. This is so cool to watch, in my opinion, but it is quite possibly the opposite of smooth in camera work. So why is it so cool? Motion.

The motion is in towards Imogen and out away from Ashton. They are both falling, just in different directions. And the impact frame both helps smooth over and accentuate the abrupt transition.

The camera around Ashton is a tracking shot. They are falling, but they remain the exact same in the screen (shrinking slightly). The rest of the world moves. And when Ashton lands, the screen cracks. The tracking shot is used to show Ashton's disassociation with their surroundings. Not in a "I feel nothing" type of way, but in a "it's me vs the world" type of way.

Then, there is an abrupt cut away. Nothing hides or smooths this at all, because Ashton's memory isn't smooth, and neither is Ashton. Remember the disassociating thing I mentioned, now it changes again to someone who gets lost in his thoughts. Medium.com calls this an "anxiety stare" and as someone who does that on the regular, I can attest to this abruptness being exactly what that feels like.

I'm not going to talk too much about the ship, but just be aware that there is a Dutch angle (the horison is diagonal) here to heighten the stress of it.

Likewise with this shot, there isn't much to talk about. The slow outward zoom and triangular composition are neat, and the tiered reactions (bottom row reacts, then middle, then Fearne) are amusing, but other than that, not much.

Then we meet Laudna, playing with Pate and giving him life. That's a neat little shot, I wonder if there's a metaphor there.

Oh.

This is a super cool visual because it establishes exactly who this character is in two seconds. But I also want to point out the symmetry of this. The hair becomes the blood which becomes the hair again, and then the tree.

Laudna is introduced as big and scary and imposing, and that is very intentionally undercut by making her look small.

Being small means you are less likely to be the focal character, so shrinking Laudna takes away her agency. Only to give it back through Imogen, and when the camera pans back outwards, Laudna is the same size, but the colours and the surroundings make her feel less alone, and as a weird result of that, less small.

And last but not least in this moment, there is the delayed drop of the hands. Laudna finally feels safe and finally breathes a sigh of relief.

That, however, imediately match cuts to this. FCG's vision. The red tinting has obvious implications that I don't need to explain, but the match cut heavily implies a connection between this group and the Bells Hells. There is a fear that this might happen again made clear by a single transition.

Here's something else. FCG doesn't move. At least, the camera doesn't treat them as moving. It's a slow panning out as if nothing is happening. It's the disassociation vibe that you get from Ashton's falling shots now repurposed to someone who isn't in control of their own actions. This is what FCG is afraid of, this is the important pieces of his character. This is FCG.

And just like Laudna, FCG finally gains agency when surrounded by their friends who hug them, and FCG finally moves.

Chetney Pock O'Pea, outlaw of the RTA, alpha of his own heart. A fundamentally chaotic character who takes rules as suggestions to be intentionally ignored. A man who's first instinct upon meeting you is to consider how you could be killed. And he is introduced whittling, with a steady camera and warm light illuminating his face. This is a peaceful side of Chetney, there is a duality to him.

Speaking of which, notice how Chetney draws back from the light as he transforms. His eyes begin to glow, but they don't illuminate him, until this:

Chetney is now backlit by the cold light of the moon itself (There's a neat reveal of Ruidus caused by the pan, but that's only tangentially relevant). Notice how much further you are from him here than in his first shot. But notice how much of him is visible, and how much of the screen he takes up. It's the same, this is still the same character. It's a true Doctor Jeckyl and Mr Hyde character. This isn't split personality, but a character who can be a different person in each form, while still remaining Chetney at all times.

There is more in this video. I encourage you to watch it, but unfortunately, Tumblr has a limit on how many images I can include, so I will leave you with this final shot. A group of heroes looking up at a threat that is so much bigger than them, a threat that is literally controlling the light. But the Bells Hells are closer to the camera, they take up more of the screen. The battle isn't lost, instead, it is just starting.

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #media analysis #critrole #critical role #bells hells #imogen temult #laudna #ashton greymoore #fcg #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #chetney pock o'pea #its Thursday night #critical role bells hells

[doveypink]

the fire and the flames (that’s you) [megumi fushiguro]

summary: a cold morning leaves you needy for warmth. word count: 2.2k warnings: not sfw (minors dni), gn!reader (vague anatomy), college-aged characters, established relationship, fluff and smut, unprotected sex. a/n: this is set shortly after stay a while, but can be read on its own! title comes from the song prescription by remi wolf <3

Megumi’s room is freezing when you wake up.

Despite resting your head on his chest with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped securely around you, you can’t help shivering. You internally curse Jujutsu Tech for building dorms with terrible insulation; it’s like they want to kill off all their sorcerers. With a groan, you try to get closer to Megumi to steal his warmth. Your leg is thrown over him, and your thigh brushes against something hard. Your boyfriend makes a noise in the back of his throat, rousing awake in an instant. A silence befalls you both. Your jaw drops.

Oh.

“Megumi… are you—?”

He cuts you off, groaning. “It’s cold, I can’t help it.”

You stare, unmoving, as a thought enters your head.

Megumi’s cheeks are tinged red, and he looks at you through tired, half-lidded eyes. “Don’t,” he says simply, a warning. He knows you too well.

“Don’t what?” You try to say innocently, but the rising grin on your face is severely unconvincing.

The messy-haired boy grimaces like he’s in pain, trying to shift away from you, but it only makes the situation beneath his sweatpants worse. “Get off,” he whines, gently pressing a hand against your waist.

“Let me help.” Your voice is soft despite the grin on your lips.

Megumi gives you a disapproving look, his lips parted in protest, but you start up again before he can speak.

“Come on, babe. We’re here, we’re alone… When are we going to have another chance? I’m only here for another week, Gumi.”

Your boyfriend stares at you, his features softening. You do have a point; you’re only visiting for the few short weeks that are winter break, and after that, the date of your next visit could be anyone’s guess. He’ll be busy exorcizing curses (“Sexily,” you would add), and you will return to college. It was hard enough just trying to get clearance from Principal Yaga and the higher-ups for you to visit Megumi here, and he already knows it’ll be hell trying to go visit you. Sorcerers are always short-staffed; the boy is lucky that he’s even had some time off this winter.

With a small sigh, Megumi tugs you closer, pulling you on top of him. “Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, finally giving in.

You’re all too happy to follow his lead, leaning down to kiss him. He puts his hands on the back of your thighs, sliding them in place on either side of his waist. While your lips are locked together, you gently grind your hips against his. Megumi grunts into your mouth, and you smile. You can already feel a small wet patch on the front of his joggers. He rubs up and down your thighs, soft and unhurried. You break the kiss to breathe, noting how he involuntarily tries to chase you, not quite ready to separate. A faint laugh passes over your tongue.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper against his parted lips.

The boy’s face flushes, and one of his hands moves up to press against your cheek. His thumb traces the outline of your face, stopping to rest at your chin. He has a saccharine gaze, his long eyelashes fluttering as you circle your hips. The motion causes little puffs of air to escape him, a quiet but visible indication of his pleasure. It always surprises you how tender he is in these moments, given that he spends the better half of his days blank faced or scowling in annoyance at minor inconveniences.

You whine, flustered by his benevolence. Megumi laughs — really, it’s just a short huff through his nose — and he lifts you off of him just enough for you to kick off your shorts. You feel the cold air prick your skin and grunt at the provocation. Your lover’s sweatpants are shoved down to his thighs, and you wear a look of devilish satisfaction at the sight of him. You hover above him, fingers wrapping around his shaft to spread the precum dribbling from the tip.

Megumi hisses, blunt nails digging into your knee. Any other day you would tease him, dragging it out until you’re both tangled and messy under the sheets, but you’ve gone too long without your boyfriend. Something twists in the pit of your stomach, and you know that if he’s not inside you soon, you might actually lose your mind. So you raise your hips, lining him up with your entrance before easing down inch-by-inch.

He slides in easily, both of you already wet enough just from grinding against each other. Megumi twitches, his breath hitching as you sink lower. You’re tight, and your walls have to stretch to take the full length of him; it really has been too long.

The moment he bottoms out inside you, Megumi makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Not a second later, something warm floods inside you. His shaft twitches against your walls, emptying himself without so much as a warning. Your boyfriend’s face turns bright red, and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle a moan.

You don’t move. He’s still inside you, spurting warmth into your body as you stare at him in disbelief. “Gumi… Did you just—?”

“Shut up,” he says quickly.

You have a shit-eating grin on your face. “You did! You came so fast—”

“Shut up,” he groans, covering his face with both hands.

With a horribly unflattering cackle, you lean down to remove his hands, kissing his red cheeks. “Aw, baby, did you miss me that much?”

He’s glaring at you, trying to turn his face away. “Stop, this is god damn embarrassing.”

“No, it was cute—”

“It’s humiliating—”

“It’s hot,” you say sincerely, still grinning. “I’m flattered, honestly.”

Megumi stares at you, seriously wishing that he could throw himself under the sheets and die. After a pause, he mumbles, “I wanted the first time back with you to be… good.”

Your features soften, trying your best not to tease him anymore. He really is sweet to you, and it would probably be too mean to provoke him any further. You kiss him, gentle and chaste. “We have a whole week, babe. It’s not the end of the world. And, you know, we could just try again now.” You wiggle your hips as if to prove your point.

Your boyfriend tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. He hesitates, seemingly unsure of how to respond. “…Really?”

“Yes, baby. I missed you,” you soothe. Your hips start to roll against his again, and he hardens like he’s been brought back to life. “I was lonely without you.”

“…Okay,” he agrees quietly. Suddenly, his hands grip your waist a little harder than before, pulling you closer. His eyes are full of want, holding you firmly as if you would ever want to leave. “Let’s make up for it, then.”

You instantly feel heat pooling in your stomach. You lean forward, mewling as he holds you flush against his body. A hard clench around his shaft has you balling your fists into the sheets beneath him. Your head drops onto his shoulder, squirming in his grasp.

Megumi kisses the top of your head, soothing your lust-fueled actions. His breaths are ragged as you clench around him, and he holds you tighter. “I missed this,” he says into your hair. “Missed feeling you.”

He’s gentle despite the filthiness of the situation, and it drives you a little insane. You roll against him harder, your hips sliding onto him with ease thanks to the cum he so kindly spilled inside you prior. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, muffling your whines of pleasure.

Megumi, always so quiet, is desperately trying to hold back his own sounds. He replaces moans for soft grunts and shallow breaths that warm your skin. His nose is buried in the top of your head, dizzied as he breathes in your scent. He starts to thrust upwards, meeting your hips with a gentle slap of skin against skin. His length slides out halfway, then pushes all the way in at a steady, mind-numbing pace that has you holding your breath.

Your boyfriend grabs at your thighs, caressing the skin as he pumps into you a little faster. “I need you,” he groans, his voice breaking as he speaks. He doesn’t like to talk much during sex, but when he does, it sounds absolutely beautiful; especially right now, with his desperate little groans and suppressed whimpers.

You match his thrusts, breathing out slowly. “I’m yours, Gumi. I’m all yours.” The sheets beneath your hands are wrinkled from how tight you grip them. With a hard clench around his shaft, you grunt, trying to hold yourself together. “I love you, I missed you so much,” you whine.

Megumi pulls you down for a kiss, breathlessly pressing your lips together. When he parts from you, he slides a hand to the back of your neck, keeping you close so he can look into your eyes. The eye contact makes you flush, your whole body warm with desire. He exerts enough self-control to slow down, keeping you steady as he fills you. Your eyes grow heavy lidded as he admires you, and your hands move to grip the front of his shirt instead.

Megumi cups your face, a look of gentle concern on his handsome face. “Are you okay?” the boy asks quietly.

You laugh, your hands flat against his chest. “Do you really have to ask that?” As if in response, you squeeze down on him again. Something about his constant attentiveness is thrilling to you, even in moments of passion.

“Of course I do,” he says easily, a light chuckle blowing past his lips. He leans you towards him for another kiss, releasing a low moan in the process. The boy can already feel himself getting close. “Do you want me to pull out?” he whispers, rubbing your thigh.

“Fuck no,” you hiss, denying the notion fast enough that it makes him laugh again. Your walls pulse around his shaft, drawing him further in. “Just… stay right there,” you plead.

Megumi kisses you again, deeper this time, before parting with a small grin. “Okay,” he murmurs before thrusting upwards again at a faster pace.

Your voice is a low warble as he takes you deeper. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you in a kiss, while his other hand grips your waist. Your moans are muffled against his mouth, and you both become a little lightheaded from the messy embrace.

Megumi groans against your mouth, and you shiver, squeezing your thighs around his hips. “That’s it,” he encourages you, pushing you further into him. “Just like that.”

The familiarity of your incoming high draws in, and your thighs tense with anticipation. He’s slotted inside you like he belongs there; you whimper pathetically at the thought, burying your face against his neck. “I’m close, baby, please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

Megumi’s chest vibrates with a low growl into your ear, making you clench down on his shaft. “Cum for me,” he says, shaking as he nears his own release. He stops bothering to hold back his sounds of pleasure, and a throaty moan from him causes you to sway your hips a little harder.

“Fuck,” you sigh, feeling him push harder against your hips. You’re teetering on the edge of your release, clamping down on him with your mouth gaping open as you pant.

Megumi grits his teeth, and he can’t take it anymore with the way your walls tighten around his length. He grunts, snapping his hips up harshly to empty himself inside of you. Large hands hold you in place as he grinds against you, not stopping until he knows you’ve finished.

With the warmth that fills you, it isn’t long until you cum. You feel yourself tip over the edge, clenching down on his still-twitching shaft and coating him in your own release. Grossly wet noises fill the room as you weakly bounce on his length, letting it all out as the collective high washes over you.

Megumi releases a long breath, holding you tight until you’ve both calmed down. Slowly, he helps you pick yourself up off of his length. He slips out of you, and you leak with cum. The sight makes his cheeks warm; you lay next to him, letting the liquid form a pool of glossy white beneath your legs. Your boyfriend leans over to kiss you, his hand cradling the back of your head.

“Good?” he asks, tracing his hand from your neck down to your back.

“Good,” you echo. When you shiver, he sits up to pull the blanket up, warming you both. The sheets tickle your skin, and you press your chest against Megumi’s to get cozy. Your hands snake under your boyfriend’s shirt, and he jolts in surprise.

“Your hands are freezing,” he utters, brows knit together in concern.

A snort of laughter escapes your throat. “That’s okay. You’ll warm me up.”

“Not that I have a choice,” he mumbles. “Don’t you want to shower?”

With an exhausted groan, you say, “In a minute. Too tired to move.”

Megumi hums in acceptance, securing you against him. When your eyes droop and your breathing slows, he doesn’t bother trying to move. He watches you in quiet admiration, feeling inclined to go back to sleep himself. He presses his lips against your forehead and begins to close his eyes, lured in by your peaceful expression.

Megumi was never a fan of the cold weather before, but now? He doesn’t think it’s so bad.

#dove writes #dove spice #c: megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x y/n #jjk x y/n #megumi smut #fushiguro smut

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Never Let Go || George Weasley

Title: Never Let Go Pairing: George x Reader Summary: Turns out building a family isn’t as easy as George thought it would be. A/N: part 2 to dad!george x nanny!reader! Though it’s not so much nanny!reader anymore as it’s more like stepmom!reader but whatever! Hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome/appreciated! <3

-

It’s no surprise that George finds them in the backyard. 

Summer is finally in full swing in the UK, and he knows Y/N likes to have Remi out in the fresh air as much as possible. The almost two year old has them on their toes, and spending the day out in the garden, running through the grass seems to be the only way to ensure Remi falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. And George really does mean an actual pillow, since they recently upgraded the crib in her room to a toddler bed. 

He has no idea where the time has gone. 

He had hoped to sneak up on them, considering the fact that it’s the middle of the day on Tuesday and he’s supposed to be at work. But when he steps out onto the back porch he isn’t met with the sight of Y/N and Remi kicking a ball back and forth or blowing bubbles. No, the scene he walks in on is much more precious. 

Y/N is laying in the hammock, one foot on the ground to slowly rock it back and forth while Remi lays on top of her chest, fast asleep. They’ve got matching white sundresses on, a gift for Mother’s Day from Molly. He figures Y/N is asleep too, but when the deck stairs creak under his weight her eyes open and a bright grin takes over her face. 

“George,” she breathes, voice quiet so as to not wake their toddler. “You’re home early.”

“I missed my girls and I’ve been jealous of all the fun you two have been having together,” George explains as he approaches. “Besides, Fred has been having so much fun torturing the interns he won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

Y/N giggles and pats the empty netting beside her. “Here, come join us.” When George gives Remi a weary glance, she waves away his concerns. “She’s out cold and probably will be for another hour, Sandra next door’s St. Bernard chased her around the yard for over an hour this morning.”

George rounds the hammock, carefully easing himself down next to the girls so he doesn’t flip them. He lays down on his side facing Y/N, propping his head up with one hand while the other rests on Remi’s bum, just below where Y/N’s own hand is. He leans in and kisses his daughter’s messy curls, before placing one on his girlfriend’s temple. 

He can’t believe that it’s been almost eighteen months since that day at the brownstone, when he opened up his front door to meet his new nanny only to fall head over heels in love with her instead. It’s hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time. 

For starters he sold that stupid brownstone that he loved so much. As Remi got older it was clear his bachelor pad was not easily converted into a family home, and the pathetic stretch of grass he called a back yard was insufficient for his sweet summer child who loved running barefoot in the grass. Plus with Y/N in their lives, the possibility of someday growing their family was always in the back of George’s mind and a London townhome was barely big enough for the three of them.

So with a great return on his investment and a little dipping into his savings, George was able to buy a large family home in one of the uppity neighborhoods on the outskirts of London. Sure his commute every day is hell, but they’ve got a backyard big enough for them to add a dog or two, the best schools in the country are just a short walk away, and there’s plenty of room in case they decide to add to their family one day. 

Which is something George hopes happens soon, one of the biggest changes that has happened since Y/N came into their lives. Before Remi George had a hard time imagining himself settling down, getting married and having some kids, and whenever he did it was far into the future by at least ten years. Once Remi was dropped into his lap that outlook had changed, but he always figured it would be just him and his daughter, something he was totally okay with. 

Falling in love with Y/N totally changed all of those plans. 

He didn’t want a life that was just him and Remi. He wanted one that included Y/N and the love and light she brings with her, with as many kids as she wants to give him. And he didn’t want that life years from now anymore, he wanted it as soon as she would allow him to stick a ring on her finger. 

Hence the diamond ring tucked away in the safe at work. George doesn’t think she’s quite there yet, but as soon as she is he’ll be down on one knee and making her his wife. 

But by far the biggest change that’s happened is the fact that he no longer has a nanny. Because now Y/N is a stay at home mum. So far that change has certainly been the most difficult, and it’s all thanks to the stubborn girl laying next to him. 

Once their relationship became romantic George knew Y/N could no longer be his nanny. Simply for the fact that it felt wrong to hand her a paycheck on Friday morning only to have her underneath him in bed that night. Besides, once that line had been crossed they both considered Remi to be their daughter, not just George’s and he certainly wouldn’t pay his wife or the mother of his child to take care of them. 

So he had proposed two possible paths to Y/N. 

The first being that he would stop paying her to watch Remi, and in turn George would take over all financial responsibility in their home. His money would become their money, and George would take care of all of their bills while she stayed at home and took care of the house and Remi. 

Y/N had flat out told him no. Which aggravated him and made him fall even more in love with her. But George had understood her response once she had explained that of course she considers Remi her daughter, the fact of the matter is she really isn’t Remi’s mum, and she’d feel weird taking on a role without having felt like she really earned it. Which George thought was total bullshit, he understood her point of view, but he thought it was bullshit. 

Which led him to propose the second path. Y/N would no longer be Remi’s nanny, giving her the ability to seek a new, day time position with another family. She of course would still live at home with them, and George would find a new nanny to look after Remi during the day while they were both at work.

He figured that would be the perfect solution. Y/N would still be making her own money while getting to be with him and Remi, Remi would have still have that one on one care George wanted for her and he no longer had to pay his girlfriend to hang out with their kid. 

Except her response to this proposition was the same as the first. Hell no.

Which had pissed George off to no end. He was trying to find a solution that would make their family work and keep all of them happy, and his sweet, stubborn girl shot him down. Twice. His anger had abated when during one of their arguments Y/N explained that the thought of another woman being in their home taking care of their daughter made her absolutely sick to her stomach. Because how the fuck could George be mad at her for being jealous at the thought of someone else being with Remi. 

So for months George kept signing Y/N’s paychecks and they kept fighting about how best to handle things moving forward. And George uses the term fighting very loosely, considering the fact it was more him trying to convince Y/N to let him take care of her and her saying no. 

It wasn’t until they moved into the new house, and their neighbor Sandra slapped George across the face and yelled about him being a dirty cheater, did they finally come to an agreement. 

Because when Y/N took Remi to the park down the road she’d introduced herself as Remi’s nanny to the neighborhood moms and nannies that were there with their kids. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that they started to notice that when Remi called her Mama she never corrected her, and on the weekends it was always George and “the nanny” taking Remi to the park together and they always seemed to be so close. 

So when Sandra saw them kiss in the driveway before George went off to work it seemed to confirm the neighborhood gossip that had been going around for weeks: George Weasley was screwing his nanny and was going to replace Remi’s biological mother with her. 

Which explains why Sandra, a woman George had barely spoken to at that point, assaulted and confronted him on his own property. Thankfully Y/N had been able to calm Sandra down, and after awkwardly explaining to her that Y/N was both Remi’s nanny and George’s girlfriend and that there was no other woman involved, the rumor mill dried up and everything went back to normal.

But Y/N felt so terrible that she agreed to quit her job as Remi’s nanny, with the stipulation that George let her work a job that still allowed her to be home with their little girl during the day. So now she works for a few families in the neighborhood as a nanny part time, that way whether she’s working or not Y/N is still Remi’s full time caretaker and she can contribute to the house with her own money. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” YN murmurs after they’ve been sitting in silence for a bit. 

“You, Remi, life,” George answers simply. 

“I can’t believe she’s almost two,” Y/N says wistfully, slowly rubbing Remi’s back. “I feel like just yesterday she was learning to crawl and asking for more juice by throwing her empty sippy cup at me,” she pauses as they both laugh. “Now she runs circles around me and says please and thank you.”

“It’s hard to believe that she used to be that tiny, fragile baby I found on my doorstep.”

Y/N stiffens next to him, just like she always does whenever Remi’s biological mother or how Remi came to be in George’s life is mentioned. She’s never even met the woman, but Y/N feels nothing but hatred towards her purely because of how carelessly she abandoned her little girl. There’s also a little jealousy there too, because as Remi gets older it is apparent that looks wise, she takes after the woman who provided the other half of her DNA, giving Remi a connection to her that Y/N will never have. She will love Remi with her whole heart until the moment she takes her last breath, but she will never be the woman that gave her life. 

“Even though I hate the way she came into your life,” Y/N starts, tilting her head back so she can look up at George. “I’m really fucking glad she did.”

“Me too, baby,” George agrees, leaning in to kiss Y/N softly. “Me too.”

-

“What are the ethical and legal implications for fucking an intern?” Fred asks suddenly, making all of the men groan. “Hypothetically, of course.”

Every month the Weasley brothers get together for a guys night. They play poker, drink beer and just catch up with each other. They’re at Bill’s tonight, in a shed out in the garden that he converted into a man cave. It’s a full house tonight, with George, Fred, Ron, Bill, Charlie and Ginny’s fiancé Harry all in attendance, and all of them are looking at Fred with disappointment. 

“Fred, you shouldn’t have fucked an intern,” Bill scolds, forever the responsible eldest brother. 

“Hey, I never said I did. I said hypothetically speaking,” Fred points out. “And I’m a little hurt by all of the judgment boys. Georgie over here fucked his employee and all of you congratulated him. Not fair.”

George rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his beer. “First of all, fuck face, if you talk about my future wife like that ever again I’ll knock you on your ass. Second of all, what happened with Y/N and I is completely different than whatever you plan on doing with one of our interns.”

“Oh please brother, enlighten me,” Fred snaps. 

“Well for one I’m not nearly a decade older than her,” George responds, narrowing his eyes as he glares at his brother. “Not to mention the second things turned romantic I tried to fire her, not my fault Y/N is the most stubborn woman on the planet. Any intern you hump and dump will still be our employee for at least two more months. And fraternization in that manner can certainly be construed as sexual harassment, which could end in a horrible, very public lawsuit that will ruin the company we worked so hard to build. Me kissing Y/N ended in a very happy, healthy, romantic relationship. We are not the same.”

Fred is silent for a few moments, and George is almost certain he’s gotten through to his twin. Until the other man opens his mouth. 

“So what you’re saying is I should wait until August, once their internship has ended, to fuck them?”

“I need another fucking drink,” George grumbles, pushing away from the table before he heads towards the little bar Bill has set up in the corner. He drowns out the conversation Ron has started, since it’s mainly focused on which intern Fred has his eye on, so he’s surprised when Bill slides up next to him. 

“Hey. I’ve got that number you asked Fleur for,” Bill murmurs, holding out a piece of paper for George to take. 

He gives it a quick glance, noting it’s nothing but a phone number, no name or identifying information, before he slips it into his pocket. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.” Both the number Bill has given him and his discretion in how he chose to give it to him. 

Because George isn’t one hundred percent certain what he’s doing is legal, and the less people that know about it the better. 

It feels kind of silly, scolding Fred about ethics and legal ramifications when George finds himself in a similar position, but his motivation has nothing to do with getting his dick wet, so he feels like his pursuit is at least a little justified. 

Six months ago he had his lawyer start looking into what’s legally required for Y/N to be able to adopt Remi once they get married. He knows it kills her that the only claim she has to Remi is the one in her heart and George wants to make sure that she has the legal rights to their daughter as well. 

Unfortunately for George, the answer was far from simple. Because when Emily, Remi’s biological mother, dropped her on his doorstep there was no documentation that she was officially terminating her rights. Meaning that even though George has been her sole legal guardian for nearly 24 months at any moment in time Emily can reappear, demand custody and have it granted. It also means that Y/N can’t legally become Remi’s mother. 

His lawyer had spent a few months trying to dig up any information, in the hopes that Emily had filed the paperwork to terminate her rights and they just didn’t know about it. When that search turned up empty their focus pivoted, and George had his attorney find out how to contact Emily, hoping that they could get her to agree to meet and come in to sign her rights away. 

But so far every attempt has failed. Either the numbers his lawyer finds are out of service or no one returns their call. Places of employment claim to have no employees under that name and every address is outdated. It’s been months since their search began and they still have nothing.

Luckily for George his sister-in-law knows some interesting people. He doesn’t want or need to know why Fleur has the number for a private investigator who has a knack for hacking, he’s just thankful that she does. 

Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family. 

But the blurred lines between right and wrong keep him from telling Y/N about the information Bill passed along to him when she asks him how boy’s night went as he slips into bed beside her that night. That way if this all ends up blowing up in his face George will be the only one hurt in the process. 

At least he hopes. 

-

The little family Y/N pulled together started on an unsuspecting Monday morning. 

So it makes sense that it all starts to fall apart on one too.

-

“What did you forget this time?” Y/N teases as she pulls open the front door. George only left for work a few minutes ago, and after a weekend at home with their family it’s pretty typical for him to get on the road only to have to turn around to retrieve something he forgot. But the smile fades from her face when she realizes George isn’t the one who rang the bell, but a beautiful brunette woman. 

A beautiful brunette woman who has soft curls falling down her back and a face shape that she would recognize anywhere considering the fact that she presses a kiss to that same arched brow every single night.

Nope, Remi’s Father is not standing on the porch - her Mother is. 

The woman, Emily, smiles at Y/N either oblivious to the distress on her face or she simply does not care enough to react to it. “Is George home?”

“N-no,” Y/N stutters out, too stunned to say anything else. “He’s at work.”

Emily shakes her head, looking Y/N up and down in a way that’s anything but friendly. “Ah, you must be the nanny then.”

The way she says nanny creates a pit in Y/N’s stomach, and it takes all of her strength not to flinch. Because how fucking dare this woman who abandoned her child show up years later and be anything but thankful and appreciative for the woman who picked up her slack. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Emily?” she asks after taking a moment to compose herself.

Because as much as she wants to give this woman a piece of her mind, Remi is just in the other room, and she has to keep her head on straight to make sure no harm comes to her daughter. No matter what this horrid woman thinks of Y/N, Remi is hers, and she’d do anything to keep that little girl safe.

If Emily is surprised to be recognized it doesn’t show on her face. She pulls a card out of her pocket, offering it to Y/N. “No, George will know why I was here. Have him give me a call.”

Y/N isn’t in control of her body as she reaches a shaky hand out and takes the proffered card, her mind numb. She watches as Emily turns on her heel and walks away without a care in the world. Like she didn’t just blow up Y/N’s life. 

Because why the hell would George know why Emily came by the house?

And why the fuck doesn’t she?

-

George knows something is wrong the second he walks through the door that night. 

Usually the house is filled with noise, Y/N almost always has music playing in the background as she cooks dinner and the sounds of her and Remi laughing echoes off the walls. But tonight when he swings the door open, his mouth opening to shout a greeting he’s met with dead silence. 

He’s immediately on edge, worried something has happened to his girls. 

“Y/N?” he calls out, voice frantic. “Where are you?”

He searches the bottom floor, switching between calling out for Y/N and Remi, his anxiety heightening each time he goes unanswered. His palms are sweating and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack when he heads upstairs, his body moving without really being aware of where it’s going. 

All George knows is that something is wrong and he needs to find Y/N and Remi before he loses his mind. 

Finally he swings open Remi’s bedroom door and he takes his first deep breath in what feels like hours. Because Y/N is standing there, her back to the door as she gazes out the window. Her shoulders stiffen, so George knows she’s aware of his presence, but she doesn’t turn when he murmurs her name. It’s then that he finally notices a lack of their daughter, and the packed duffle bag sitting on the floor next to Y/N.

“Where’s Remi?”

“At Bill and Fleur’s,” Y/N answers, her voice flat as she still refuses to look at George. 

Her lack of emotion and just general shitty behavior does nothing but piss George off, which is why his words come out sharper than he intends them to. “Y/N what the fuck is going on?”

She finally turns to look at George then, and her appearance has him stifling a gasp. While no tears fall from her eyes, they’re rimmed with red and slightly puffy - a tell-tale sign that she’s spent a good chunk of the day crying. Her body is stiff, her arms crossed like she needs to protect herself. And her eyes, those eyes that George loves so much, are filled with one emotion: betrayal.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

That isn’t what George expected her to say, and he feels a little lame that he doesn’t immediately have a response. 

“Maybe you can start by telling me why the fuck, Emily showed up at our house today looking for you, and when I said you weren’t home she just left her number, claiming that you would know exactly why she was here.”

Oh fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

George’s stomach is in knots and he feels like he’s going to throw up. He should have told Y/N that he was looking for Emily, he feels like such an idiot for keeping that from her. His lawyer has called several of her friends and family members to try and get a hold of her, of course one of them was sure to tell Emily George was looking for her. So it really isn’t a surprise that she decided to track him down instead.

Well at least, not a surprise to him. And why should Y/N have been expecting Emily to show up at their door after no contact for almost two years? He really, really fucked up. 

“Baby, wait, it’s not what it looks like,” George starts to explain, taking a step towards her. 

But Y/N takes a step back, holding up her hand to cut him off. “Really? Because it looks like you went behind my back and sought out the biological mother of the child you claim to be ours, after she abandoned her on a front porch no less.”

Fuck, it sounds even worse when she puts it like that. 

“Please, just let me explain,” George pleads.

But Y/N just shakes her head. “The time for you to explain would have been before any of this shit started.” She picks her bag up and tears start to well in her eyes. “I need a second George, to think about things. To think about what Emily being back around means for me and us and this family. Fleur and Bill are going to keep Remi for tonight, and Sandra agreed to watch her while you’re at work for the next few days.”

As she walks out of the room Y/N pauses next to George. “Emily’s number is on the counter in the kitchen. You better have a damn good reason for needing it.”

George stands there alone in the middle of Remi’s bedroom until he hears the front door click shut behind Y/N. It’s only when he’s sure he’s alone does he allow himself to break down: tears rolling down his cheeks as he falls to his knees. 

He thought keeping this secret was going to ensure Y/N felt secure in their family, but now it looks like he may have lost her for good.

-

Y/N plasters a fake smile on her face, not needing all of their friends and family to know how torn up her insides are. Because of course, the weekend after George’s betrayal is Remi’s second birthday, and despite the fact that they’re still not speaking and she’s still not sure where her place in their family is anymore Y/N will always show up for Remi. She’s already had one mother walk out, and Y/N is not about to be another. Emily’s reappearance be damned Y/N loves that little girl, and she’ll happily suffer in silence if it keeps a smile on her daughter’s face. 

Despite George’s best efforts, she’s managed to stay away from him so far. Of course they need to have a conversation about what happened, but the middle of their backyard while celebrating their daughter’s birthday is not the time or the place. So she’s kept close to Remi, reveling in the feel of holding her tiny hand as the toddler dragged her around the yard to all of the different activities they have set up. 

She’s standing outside the bounce house, watching Remi tumble around with her friends and her Uncle Fred, chatting with one of the Mum’s when she feels his presence behind her. The warmth of his body seeps into her skin, and Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as the scent of his cologne washes over her. Despite all of her hurt and her anger this week without George has been torture, and she’s afraid to admit how good it feels to be near him again. 

“Hi,” he greets, leaning in to murmur in her ear. “I’m really fucking happy to see you. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”

The other Mum gives her a cheeky wink before wandering off, clearly thinking Y/N and George are reconnecting during a quiet moment of a hectic day. Her stomach drops, both in fear and excitement. 

“It’s our daughter’s birthday, George,” Y/N responds once she’s composed herself, eyes reopening as she takes a deep breath. “If you think I’d miss it just because I’m pissed at you, you don’t know anything about me. I’m not Emily.”

Regret slaps George in the face, and he kicks himself for being so stupid. He hasn’t been able to think straight since Monday night, when he came home and his whole world fell apart. Life without Y/N is bleak, and if it weren’t for the little girl giggling wildly as she has fun with her friends, George is sure he would have given up by now.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot,” he apologizes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Remi hasn’t been sleeping at night because she misses you and I haven’t been sleeping at night because I miss you and I feel so fucking terrible about everything and I can barely breathe let alone think straight.”

He pauses, taking a second to get his shit together.

“Of course I knew you would show up today, your love for Remi has always come first. That’s what I love most about you, how fiercely you love the people you care about.”

Y/N simply nods, to over run with emotion to trust her voice to come out clear and even. Knowing that Remi has been struggling during this time absolutely kills her, and she hates that she has brought her even an ounce of pain. But at least she’s young, and if this really is it for this relationship, Remi will never remember Y/N and the love and loss her brief stint in her  life caused. 

That’s a thought Y/N has had many times over this past week, and it’s just as heart wrenching to think about as it was the first time. Remi will never remember Y/N, but she’ll spend the rest of her life loving and missing that little girl. 

“Can we talk tonight?” George pleads. “I want to explain everything to you, like I should have done on Monday. Or rather even before that night. And if you still want to walk away from this relationship after that I will let you go. But please know that you will always be a part of Remi’s life, whether you and I are together or not. Remi may have come from Emily, but you are her Mother and you always will be.”

George walks away then, and Y/N furiously wipes at the tears leaking down her cheeks before anyone has the chance to notice. 

-

Y/N decides to hear George out. 

Because even though her heart is hurting and she feels like her trust has been broken, just being in his presence today has made her feel the most normal she has all week. Being by his side while they held Remi and everyone gathered around to sing her happy birthday just felt right, like she was just where she was supposed to be. There is no doubt in her mind that George is the love of her life, and Y/N knows deep down that she’ll always regret not fighting for their relationship. And when George had assured her that no matter their relationship status Y/N would always be in Remi’s life, she figured she had nothing to lose by sitting down and hearing George’s side of things. 

Plus, sticking around until the last partygoers made their way out means she gets to put Remi to bed for the first time in almost a week. 

Which is where she is now, laying on her side in Remi’s bed with the little girl snuggled up against her. They’ve just finished reading her favorite book ‘I love you to the moon and back’ and now Y/N is slowly stroking her soft curls as she watches Remi’s eyes flutter open and closed and she fights off sleep. 

“Mama miss me?” Remi’s sweet voice mumbles, and it makes Y/N’s heart break. 

She leans in, pressing her lips against Remi’s forehead. “Mama missed you so much, baby.”

“Miss Mama,” Remi agrees, her lips smacking together as she tries to stay awake. “Love you Mama.”

“I love you too, Rem-Dog. More than you’ll ever know,” Y/N promises. That reassurance must make Remi feel safe enough to fall asleep, and Y/N watches as her eyes finally flutter closed and once her daughter’s breaths have evened out she presses one more kiss to Remi’s forehead before extracting herself from the bed. 

“Goodnight, baby,” she murmurs, taking a second to tuck the covers tightly over Remi’s body. She heads towards the door, taking one more look over her shoulder before she closes it behind her. Taking a deep breath Y/N steals herself, preparing for whatever conversation is awaiting her downstairs. 

George nearly jumps out of his seat when Y/N comes down the stairs, furiously wiping the sweat from his palms on his trousers. He gestures towards the seat across from him, giving her a small smile. “Sit, please.” 

Once she’s seated across from him George sits down too, awkwardly fidgeting in his chair. He crosses and uncrosses his legs several times, his hands wringing together as he tries to figure out where to start. 

“Thank you for staying and agreeing to hear me out.”

Y/N gives a curt nod. “I’m not making any promises here, George. But I at least owe it to myself and our family to sit here and listen to what you have to say.”

She watches as George grabs a thick manilla envelope off the chair next to him, waiting with bated breath as he slides a document out of it. He places it on the table, slowly sliding it towards her so that she can see what it is.

Y/N takes a moment to read, her eyes scanning the words over and over again so there’s no doubt in her mind what she’s looking at. As the information soaks in, tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, and she presses a hand to her trembling lips. 

“George these are,” she starts, eyes finally flicking up to meet him.

“Adoption papers,” George confirms with a nod. “I told you earlier that no matter what happens between us you’ll always be Remi’s Mum, so I figured this would be a good place to start. That way once this conversation is done you can be free to feel however you want to feel, and not make a decision based on your love for Remi. I love you, Y/N, and I want us to be a family. But I understand that you might not feel that way anymore. So all you have to do is sign on the places that are marked, I already did, file these with the court and Remi will legally be yours too.”

“George, I,” Y/N stumbles, unable to find the words. This is the last thing she imagined George would say to her. And she knows now that whatever awful things she thought George was doing behind her back were nothing more than her insecurities speaking out.

When Emily showed up on their porch it surprised Y/N to her core, and all of those negative thoughts she’s had about feeling like she could never measure up to Remi’s biological mother came rushing back to the forefront of her mind; only made worse by the fact that George had seemingly been trying to get in contact with Emily behind her back. 

But sitting here, now, with George offering her a permanent place in Remi’s life even if she doesn’t want one in his - she knows. She knows that this is all just some stupid misunderstanding and she nearly let the best thing that’s ever happened to her slip away. 

“What about Emily?” Y/N asks, voice shaking. “I mean, isn’t she technically still Remi’s Mother like, legally?” she clarifies. She remembers when they had to register Remi at their new pediatrician after they moved, and they needed her birth certificate for her file. Y/N had noticed that Emily was still listed there, and when she googled what that meant that night, she found out it meant Emily hadn’t ever signed her rights away, so she still, legally, had a claim to their daughter.

“She signed her rights away,” George explains, a small smile forming on his face when Y/N’s jaw drops. “That’s why she showed up that day. My lawyer has been trying to hunt her down for months, and she must have heard I was looking for her.”

“And she signed them away?” Y/N asks, still in disbelief. “Just like that?”

George nods before launching into the story of what happened.

-

“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Martin, George’s attorney, jokes as Emily and her attorney take seats at the conference table across from them. But the smile is wiped from his face when George gives him a glare. 

This is not the time for joking. He’s barely been functioning since Y/N walked out two nights ago, and he just wants to get this shit over with so he can come clean to her and get on his knees to beg for forgiveness. And at least with Emily out of the way, even if Y/N doesn’t want to take him back she can still adopt Remi. He will deal with shared custody and watching Y/N fall in love with someone else as long as it means his girls are together and happy. 

“That’s what happens when you don’t want to be found,” Emily replies dryly. Her eyes finally and on George and the smirk that appears on her face makes his stomach turn. “Weasley, long time no see.”

George huffs. “Can we just cut the shit and get this over with? I’d like to get home to my daughter.” 

He can’t help but notice that Emily doesn’t react to him claiming Remi as only his, and it just solidifies that going through all this shit was a good decision. Clearly this woman doesn’t give a shit about the little girl they created together, because if he had said something like that in front of Y/N she would have slapped him upside the head and made him sleep on the couch for a week. 

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine with the nanny.” Emily’s voice drips with condescension, and it pisses George off even more. 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he seethes. “Y/N is not Remi’s nanny, she’s her mother. And she’s a damn good one, which is something you know nothing about, so I’m not going to let you sit here and talk shit about the woman who has stepped up and done what you never had the balls to do.”

The room is silent, George’s words echoing around the room until Emily’s attorney clears his throat. 

“Well now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he drawls. “Why are me and my client here?”

“Oh, right.” Martin grabs the manilla envelope sitting on the table, drawing a document out of it. He hands it to Emily’s attorney, giving him a moment to look it over before he speaks again. “We’d like for Emily to relinquish her rights to Remi. It’s been nearly two years since she abandoned the infant, and George would like for his partner to formally adopt their daughter.”

Every second Emily is silent makes George’s stomach sink further and further, and he can feel the bite of his nails digging into his palm from how hard his fists are clenched. Martin had assured George that even if Emily refuses to sign her rights away there were other ways to have them terminated, but it would be a lengthy process. Which George would absolutely not hesitate to pursue, but he wants this done as quickly as possible, which hinges on this right now going the way he wants. 

“So I just sign and that’s it? The baby isn’t mine anymore?” Emily finally asks after she’s read the document. 

Martin nods in confirmation. “Precisely. If you sign that today I’ll have it filed with the court this afternoon, and you will no longer have any legal rights or ties to Remi.”

“All right, do you have a pen?”

Not even a second of hesitation. The second her attorney puts a pen in her hand Emily is signing, double checking to make sure she hasn’t missed a spot. As soon as she’s satisfied that everything has been taken care of Emily slides the papers back over to Martin, and George feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Emily is finally out of the way, and he and Y/N are free to be a family in every way possible. 

As long as she still wants him, that is. That part of the plan is still up in the air.

-

“So, yeah. That was that,” George trails off as his story comes to an end. He sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N as she takes everything in. There’s a few different emotions flitting across their face, but they’re gone before George can tell what they are. Her eyes look at everything in the room except for his face, and he can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

“She just signed them away? Just like that?” Y/N finally says, her voice thick with emotion. 

“Yep. We were ready to file a lawsuit for abandonment to have them involuntarily terminated but she just picked up a pen and signed them away.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Wow. Fuck her.”

George can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I was pissed at first too, because Remi is fucking amazing and how dare her Mum not realize that and fight to be in her life. But then I realized it doesn’t matter, because Emily isn’t Remi’s Mum and never has been. From the second you walked into our lives you have been her Mum, and the reason why she’s such an amazing little girl is because of you and the love and attention you have shown her. It doesn’t matter that Emily gave Remi half of her DNA, you’ve given Remi everything a real Mother should and that’s what matters.”

She doesn’t even know she’s crying until a few tears drip off of her chin, and Y/N works to quickly wipe them away. Everything George has said just erased every single doubt she’s ever had in her mind. Y/N always felt like Remi and Emily would have some kind of bond due to the fact that they share DNA, but hearing George just now and knowing Emily signed her rights away as if it were nothing proves that it’s all bullshit. 

The only woman Remi will ever have that bond with is Y/N, and it has nothing to do with blood.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were looking for Emily, George?” Y/N finally asks. “I would have understood and supported you.”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, for one,” George admits honestly. “When I first talked to Martin about the steps it would take for you to legally adopt Remi I wanted it to be a surprise. I bought a ring and had this whole plan to ask you to officially be a part of this family. But when we found out that Emily hadn’t signed away her rights I decided to keep it to myself. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to go the way we wanted it to.”

Y/N nods that she understands to encourage George to keep going. It’s actually kind of sweet that George had put so much thought into this whole thing, and she understands why he didn’t say anything. Clearly George was aware of the sore spot Y/N had regarding Emily, and she kind of loves him a bit more for trying to be sensitive to that. 

“And then Martin’s search for her was going to shit. Every address we had was old or wrong, every phone number was out of service. Any employer we talked to just said she didn’t work there and any friends or family would ignore us. I was kind of starting to get a little desperate,” he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “So I talked to Fleur and got the contact information for a guy with a, um, special set of skills.”

That gets Y/N curious. “What kind of skills?”

“Hacking, mostly,” George mumbles. “And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that whatever he was going to do was totally legal, and I figured the less you knew about that the better. If it was all going to go to shit we both couldn’t be in jail. Remi would be left to Fred and we all know how that would end up.”

Once it’s clear George has said everything he needs to Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a second to just let everything sink in. Obviously George made a few mistakes in the way he went about things, she can’t deny how full her heart feels at his gestures. And it’s clear he feels absolutely terrible about how things came about and he regrets not being honest with her. 

“That was really the only reason why you didn’t tell me you were looking for Emily? Because it was supposed to be a surprise and you didn’t want me to know about your potentially illegal activities?”

“I swear,” George promises, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m so sorry I kept it from you and I hurt you. I didn’t mean for that to happen and if I could go back and do things differently I would.”

Y/N nods in understanding. She brushes her fingers over the adoption papers, tapping them twice. “And no matter what happens between us you’ll let me sign these papers and legally become Remi’s Mum?”

“Of course. You’re her Mama, and I know how much you love her and she loves you just the same. We can go to court to figure out custody or we can just do it between us, whatever you want. But I will never stop you from being a part of our daughter’s life.”

“Well, I think I’ve heard everything I need to.” Y/N pushes away from the table, biting her lip to keep from grinning at the dejected look on George’s face. She stands, but instead of heading towards the door like he thinks, Y/N rounds the table, plopping herself right down into his lap.

“You got your chance to speak,” she starts, putting a finger to George’s lips to keep him from saying anything. “And now it’s my turn. I’m sorry too, for acting the way I did that night. Emily showing up shocked me, and brought all of these insecurities and negative thoughts to the forefront of my mind and I went spiraling down this dark path. I knew that there was a rational explanation for Emily being on our porch and I didn’t give you a chance to explain things. For that I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” George responds once she lets him speak. “But just know I’m only saying that to appease you and not because I really think you owe me an apology.” Y/N finally breaks out into a full smile, and George feels the happiest he has all week. 

“And you’ll never go behind my back ever again?”

“Never,” George answers honestly, his voice firm. 

Before George has the opportunity to realize what’s happening Y/N leans in, pressing their lips together and pouring every emotion she’s felt over their separation into their kiss. George wraps his arms around her waist, absorbing every bit of hurt, pain, anger, longing and love she passes off to him. Even when their kiss breaks he keeps her pressed tightly to his chest, silently telling her that he plans on never letting go again. 

“So,” Y/N starts, her voice teasing. “What’s that you said about buying a ring?”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #George Weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #harry potter #Harry Potter au #gw #golden

[stormxpadme]

the fake fic ask game

Title: White Lightnin' bound to drive you wild

Tags: Mission Gone Wrong, Safe House, There's only one bed, Rivals to Lovers, Awkward Confessions, Touch Starved, First Kiss, Laughter and Humor, Sass and Snark, Mutual pining, Idiots in love

You can either do the same summary for both or two different story summaries. :D (And yes, the title is a song lyric from a song I LOVE.)

the fake fic ask game

Okay, this definitely screams for two stories :D.

a) old X-Men movie verse, set within my main X-Men verse

Title

White Lightnin' bound to drive you wild

Summary:

It's 20 years after the Battle of Liberty Island, and after the latest couple of almost apocalyptic crises and the odd near-death experience, deaths, and resurrections, Scott finally makes good on his promise regarding a holiday in the Maldives to his wife. Because it's Scott and holidays though, also known as opposite polarities, that planned beach hangout doesn't turn out as it was meant to, of course. The general global mood regarding mutants is once more not exactly shiny after Mystique just had the whole city of New York enslaved, emptied, and turned into a mutant paradise for a while. So when there's an unexpected tropical storm threatening the island group where Scott and Katja are residing and Katja reluctantly reveals herself to the rest of that beach resort in order to clear the sky with her powers and prevent damage and casualties in that little paradise, our heroes are faced with hostility instead of gratitude. Before the situation can get too ugly, our lovebirds are extracted with the Blackbird piloted by Remy and Marie, just having come back from a mission, who have been alerted by Jean telepathically that they need to make a little detour. Sensing how devastated their friends are by the spoiled holiday and the ongoing discrimination issues, Marie and Remy decide against flying back to Westchester but take the jet to Marie's former home state instead as she knows they'll not run into a lot of people there in the countryside. In a run-down country club with lots of karaoke fun, the two couples enjoy a surprisingly nice evening, coming to terms with the realization there are a lot of places even for mutants to enjoy the merits of normalcy and that it doesn't have to take luxury escapes and cocktails under palm trees for a little bit of true happiness.

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b) current cartoon verse, taking place after episode 3.5

Tags

Mission Gone Wrong, Safe House, There's only one bed, Rivals to Lovers, Awkward Confessions, Touch Starved, First Kiss, Laughter and Humor, Sass and Snark, Mutual pining, Idiots in love

Summary:

After that whole drama with Maddie and Nathan, Scott and Jean have decided to divorce as they can no longer tell what is and was real in their relationship and can't stand even sleeping in the same bed anymore. After having earned a painful rejection by Jean himself, Logan has finally given up on that dream that was never meant to be and reluctantly comes to Scott's support in keeping the things in the mansion together while Scott is still shaken from having to give up on his newborn son and now his relationship. Challenging his old rival in regular Danger Room sessions to distract Scott and help him keep his mind and body sharp, Logan realizes that with those burdensome feelings and rivalry regarding Jean out of the way, Scott and he have a lot more in common than they'd used to think. Bit by bit, Logan even gets Scott to let go of his latest control issues a little and engage in team activities like cooking and sports for fun which almost ends with Scott burning down the kitchen, trying to make Canadian pancakes for them for breakfast though, and more than one awkward boner in public on Logan's side because Scott looks and moves just as ridiculous as hot in baseball shorts. Obviously, none of them makes a move though because they're firmly convinced, the other one still hates them. When the team receives a distress call by Forge regarding Ororo, Logan and Scott leave for Forge's home only to find it half in ruins and their ally gone, with Ororo nowhere to be seen. After combing the area in vain for hours, they're being attacked by the same mysterious enemy who has already taken their friends and need to return to the house for Logan to patch Scott up and for both of them to take an hour of rest. Which means having to share the only intact bed left while at home in the mansion, Jean telepathically tries to find a new lead for them to follow. Waiting for those news, Scott and Logan, to absolutely no one's surprise but their own, end up fucking their frustration and anxiety away.

#sometimes stormy gets asked things #mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea #x men #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #x men movies #hnnng i love that song so much #scogan #scott x logan #thank you luv <3 #also you know my writing preferences far too well LOL #i mean these are basically the go to tags reserved for our idiots #also don't @ me this is totally what happens after today's lackluster episode

[inkyquince]

So we all know Whitney and Remy go crazy for cock (although I like the idea that Remy likes a hung bull and Whit prefers a little cock he can mock and keep comfortably in his mouth) but who else goes cumdrunk for a nice dick? And what do you think their dick prefs are?

Also, what do you think their dicks look like?

Don’t mind me I’m hormonal and hungry for hog.

GOTTA CHANGE MY TITLE TO HUNGRY FOR HOG DEAR LORD IM CACKLING

content warning. implied dubcon with harper, briar being a dick, yknow.

There's obvious lads, like Remy and Sydney but also...

I feel like Whitney likes... A thicker cock than slimmer. Wants a cock, but not in his throat, just something to fill his mouth comfortably. Loves to drool over it. Also, yknow, his cock twitches when he thinks about sinking down on it a bit later.

Wren. Fucking Wren. This man is so versatile. Loves pussy, ass, thighs, tits, ALL. And I just think the moment he peels down your trousers and gets an eyeful, he's gone. Would happily sit on that dick for the rest of the game. Likes resting his chin on your thigh and smacking your cock against his cheek, enjoying the weight before happily popping it into his mouth. Loves a long bitch to hit him good, deep inside of him.

Darryl. Darryl is a size queen ngl. Hasnt had sex for ages, and just one nice dick slipping into him has him stupid. Legit will become adventurous and bounce on your cock, shivering and gasping and whining for more. Darryl will happily suck on your cock after sex too, just showing his love and keeping your cock warm. Loves any sort of dick, my man legit just into that stroke game.

Briar likes a dick, but a pretty one. Will fucking adore your cock if its such a pretty dick. After your first dance, where you stripped, Briar calls you into his office and makes you strip down. Despite you having just stripped in front of people, this was more terrifying. Briar just looks at you, smirking. Will play with your cock for hours, enjoying how overstimulated you are. Pretty dicks are Briar's weakness.

And I feel like...

Harper. Harper likes bull pc for a reason and wants his kissies. Just the image of him tugging on your cock while you fidget in your bed, the doctor having sneaked into your room just to get his urges out for the day. Whispers that you're the only one who can fulfill his needs before swinging his leg over you, sinking down on your cock, shivering. Man just... Loves a good dick.

#ask #nsft #harper the doctor #briar the brothel owner #darryl the club owner #wren the smuggler #dol #quincewrites #degrees of lewdity

[sarcasmsweetie]

Coming Home, Prologue

FRIENDS!!! I’m so excited to share this new story with you all. This has admittedly been in my head for ages, and is part of the reason why I haven’t posted A Better Life’s epilogue yet. I have quite a good chunk of this story already written out, and I can’t wait to go on this journey with all of you! (Title may change because I’m terrible at coming up with them and I don’t know if this will stick)

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand’s Sister

Word count: 2.2k

Masterlist | Part 1

Taglist (if you’re crossed out, I couldn’t tag you): @bsenpai @starrstrucked @account1sblog @hernameispia @great-goddess-of-sin

It’s been far longer than I expected since I last saw the twins. While their absence has been both a physical and mental relief, I can’t help but mourn the loss of semi-regular meals. With the twins gone, the sentry wasn’t ordered to bring me something to eat, and the loss of food not only ensured I remain weak, it also removed my ability to somewhat track time. Being held underground for centuries certainly didn’t make this task easy, but after so many years, I wondered if it was even worthwhile anymore.

I sat up, mentally preparing myself to stand. I’ve been lying on the ground for a while now, and I’m sure moving too quickly will result in some light-headedness. I glanced to the bars of my cell, thinking it best I move my way to the bars to help me in standing, while also giving me something to lean against should I stand too quickly.

Crawling across the short distance between the blanket that makes up my bed and the door to my cell, I hold onto the iron bar. I tighten my grip, feeling the coolness of the metal under my fingertips. I close my eyes as I slowly pull myself from the ground. I first pulled myself up into a kneeling position, getting a sense of how I was holding up at getting to this point. My arms felt like they were screaming from the exertion, but I could work through that so long as I wasn’t feeling faint. Taking a deep breath, I began to pull myself up into a standing position, pausing to take a mental inventory of how everything was feeling. Honestly? It felt like Cassian pushed me through the training ring for far longer than he originally promised. Shaky legs, arms screaming to rest, and sweat dripping from my brow as I fought to catch my breath. I closed my eyes, thinking of my brother and his two best friends and what they could be up to right now, and rested my head on the door, allowing it to hold all of my meager weight.

The door shifted forward, and my eyes popped open in fear. Was someone here opening the door? I let go, and frantically stepped back, already raising my arms to protect my face from whatever hit the sentry, or worse, the twins, would aim at me. There was no light in the dungeon allowing me to see anything in or outside of my cell, so I held my breath as I tried to listen for movement from the other side of the door. There was no telltale sign of the creaky hinges indicating the door was still being opened, no steps or clothes rustling in the hall.

I lowered my arms, trying to squint through the darkness to see what may have happened. After another moment of silence, I stepped towards the door and pushed. It swung open. I continued to wait where I stood, expecting this to be some trick of the twins, a “welcome home” game they may have organized for themselves now that they’re back from Spring. But still, nothing happened.

I hesitantly walked toward the door, grabbing an iron bar. I took a deep breath as I felt the coolness seep into my skin, grounding me to reality. I learned ages ago that if the twins were in my mind, I wouldn’t be feeling the temperature of the bar, the solidity of it. They could replicate so much so visually with such precision, even sounds were an identical match to the original source. But the physical feeling of the door in my hand or the hard floor under my bare feet was never part of the illusion. The cold became a source of comfort after a while because it was a reminder that I was alone, that they weren’t toying with me. They had created countless illusions of me escaping this cell. Was even cruel enough to create the illusion of being reunited with my family.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the cell and waited. Just because this wasn’t an illusion doesn’t mean this still wasn’t some game. I placed my hand on the wall to help not only in my balance but in guiding me through the darkness. I kept my ears open for any sounds before moving forward. I moved slowly, not just because of how weak I’ve become, but in an effort to remain as silent as possible. A perk of being raised in Velaris meant I was raised around AzrielI learned that shadows and the darkness are your friend, not something to be feared. Probably one of the only reasons why I didn’t go insane over the last few hundred years down here.

Keeping my hands on the walls helped me navigate through the twists and turns of the halls. I walked for maybe 10 minutes before my foot bumped into something solid. I quickly realized I was standing in front of a staircase, and I moved as quickly as I could to climb. I was certain someone was waiting for me at the top of the stairs given how easy it was to get to this point, but the thought of no longer being in this dungeon overrode any other instinct I had at this moment. I gripped the railing, allowing myself to pull myself upwards in an attempt to move faster.

Before I knew it, I found a wooden door that opened without a creak. This still felt like a pretty little trap, but my excitement continued to push me forward. I peered around the corner and the other side of the door, discovering no one waited for me like I thought. In fact, the hallway was completely empty. I shut the door behind me, leaning against it as I took a moment to catch my breath as well as try and listen for any sounds indicating I should move towards or away from a certain direction. Looking to my right, I noticed a window at the end of the hall. The sun was shining and although it hurt to stare at the light after all my time in darkness, I moved towards it like a moth to a flame.

The window didn’t look out at anything special – some open land that may have once been a garden. Everything in the area looked as if it hadn’t been tended to in ages. I quickly looked around to make sure I was still alone in the hall before testing the window. It was a bit of a struggle to open the glass, almost as if it hadn’t been opened in years. I was half-tempted to find something to shatter the glass itself before it finally gave way. Taking one final glance around, I climbed out of the window.

I leaned against the stone wall, closing my eyes as I felt the heat of the sun for the first time in almost 500 years. I reminded myself that the heat of the sun and the texture of the stones further proved this wasn’t an illusion. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes to look around. No sentries stood guard anywhere, no movement from any other windows I could see from where I stood. I couldn’t even hear anything in the immediate area. My brows furrowed in confusion, wondering where everyone could have possibly gone.

Not taking any chances, I continued to move around this old courtyard by sticking to the perimeter of the castle. It took a bit of time to finally make it to the other side, but I finally approached what looked like the entrance to the courtyard. Keeping my eyes to the walls of the castles in case any sentries made an appearance, I moved through the courtyard entrance to find myself in sprinting distance of the castle entrance. The drawbridge was down, and once again I couldn’t find any sentries in sight. My heartbeat began to race, thinking of what this could all mean. Was this not a game as I originally thought, but could Hybern actually have been defeated? Is that why I was left alone for ages, because no one lived to remember I was down there?

Taking one final glance, I took a deep and calming breath. Confirming once again that no one was at least visible to me, I forced myself to put everything I had into sprinting to the drawbridge, to possible freedom. My legs and lungs burned, I couldn’t hear anything except for the sound of my pounding heart, and I refused to look anywhere except for the promising drawbridge. Even as it came within range, I refused to slow down. I pushed myself harder so that I continued running through the exit of this hellish castle, sprinting through the streets of this dirty and wretched city.

Like the castle, I couldn’t see any people in the immediate area. I ran through the streets for as long as I could, aiming to put as much distance as possible between myself and my personal hell. Eventually, I turned into an alley where I allowed myself to stop and try and catch my breath. My lungs were on fire and I my wheezing sounded absolutely terrifying, but no one stopped me. As far as I knew, no one even saw me. I took this opportunity to take in a bit more of my surroundings. The area I ran from was completely abandoned, but I was starting to hear the sounds of life in the direction I was running. Almost as if the castle was the epicenter of some horrible plague and citizens moved themselves as far away from it as they could. I glanced around, seeing clothes hanging on a clothesline.

For the first time, I looked down at myself and noticed the incredibly tattered clothing I wore. It was certainly no dress, and more of an oversized male’s shirt. Once upon a time it may have been white, but it was so dirty that it was a charcoal grey at this point. There were a few pairs of pants and shirts, and I snuck over, looking around the alley to see if anyone was here or watching from any of the windows. Even if I couldn’t change my shirt, I grabbed the smallest pair of pants, almost like a child’s pair. They were a bit short, not reaching my ankles, but they fit fine enough in the waist that I was content enough. Looking around again to see no one was watching, I grabbed a dark blue shirt and ran into another alley to get away from the scene of my theft, as well as find a darker area to quickly change shirts. Leaving my rags on the street, I quickly turned out of the alley and walked towards the sounds of what could possibly be a bustling city. Although not clean by any means, I felt like I could possibly avoid detection a bit more in these clothes – not nearly as eye catching as the tatters I previously wore.

I walked down the streets, still not noticing anyone in the immediate area, though I noticed the sounds grew louder. Chatter that could have been from a market grew, and I paused as I reached the end of the street. I peered around the corner of the building and saw a dock instead of the market I originally imagined. Males and females were loading ships of various sizes. What I thought was interesting is that nothing was being unloaded – almost as if everyone in Hybern were looking to leave this place. I looked at the sails on the ships, trying to see if I recognized any emblems and my eyes caught the sigil of Day. I could have cried in relief, seeing a ship from one of Night’s neighbors. Instead, I began to take a closer look at those moving around that ship. I’m not sure why they’re here in the first place, but if I want to sneak on board to get even closer to home, I’d have to figure something out.

Not wanting to be caught spying on any ship, I attempted to leisurely walk towards the dock, not paying too close attention to any given ship. Just simply looking around. For the most part, I was ignored. Only being barked at if I accidentally stepped in the path of those moving heavier objects. I listened to the chatter of those around me and realized my theory was correct: everyone here is leaving Hybern and being taken as refugees to various courts and continents.

I hurried to the ship with Dawn’s sails, making eye contact with a sentry at the base of the ship’s gangway. He clearly took note of my very dirty and disheveled body, yet the oddly clean clothes I wore. “Are you choosing to abandon Hybern and swear fealty to Day?” I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal to a stranger. His eyebrow raised at my silence.

“I’m actually-“ I coughed, clearing my throat that hasn’t been used in who knows how long. “I’m actually a citizen of Night Court.” His eyes widened slightly, and he glanced back to someone on the ship.

“Let her on board. We promised Lord Helion we wouldn’t turn anyone away. If we can aid this female in returning home, then we shall.”

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel fanfic #bri's writing

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Devotion to Tatsumi Kazehaya - 5

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, three years ago

Characters: Jun, Kaname, Tatsumi

Proofreading: Remi + 310mc (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace & hyenahunt

Jun: Hah! So you mean we all have no chance of success and just get to spend our lives getting bossed around like slaves, huh? Reimei Academy's fucking incredible!

Location: Reimei Academy's Labour Camp

Time: Evening, that day.

Jun: Hmm... So basically, this guy isn't a Special Student anymore?

Kaname: .....

Jun: Some scandal happened during the filming of a movie or a show, and he either pissed off or got on the wrong side of the higher-ups, and he lost his role...

Kaname: .....

Jun: So going along with what the bigshots wanted, Reimei Academy temporarily stripped HiMERU of his Special Student title.

And now he's so sad and upset about it he went nuts and had a little cryfest in here just now. That's the long and short of it, huh, Kazehaya-senpai?

Tatsumi: Yes. While HiMERU-san hasn’t told me what happened exactly, I've more or less grasped the situation due to various things I've heard from others.

In any case, it feels as if there's been a high level of damage control about what's going on, so it's hard to understand what happened exactly.

All that is clear is that, yes, HiMERU-san did something which caused the temporary loss of his Special Student title.

As such, he has also been stripped of the private quarters given to those with such privilege, and thus has found himself within the walls of this Labour Camp instead.

Jun: This is the first time I've ever heard of a Special Student losing their title... What exactly did he even do? Did he deck some bigwig in the face or something~?

Tatsumi: I wonder... It's only natural that this is all that the students know. However, the teachers' knowledge regarding it is limited as well.

On the other hand, I've been fielding non-stop questions myself, all of which ask the very same thing: What did HiMERU-san even do?

As it stands, I have no way to answer them.

From the reaction of the public, it would seem that HiMERU-san did something that was strictly taboo in the entertainment world.

Jun: Tattoo?

Tatsumi: Taboo. In other words, something prohibited by social norms.

Jun: Your words are kinda goin' over my head, Kazehaya-senpai...

Tatsumi: My apologies. While I strive to do what I can to make my words understandable... if they're unable to reach you, then they're no better than the cry of an animal.

Jun: Well, I've more or less gotten the gist of it, at least~ To sum it up, HiMERU basically went and did some shit he really shouldn't have done, huh?

Tatsumi: That is my own personal theory, yes.

Jun: If that's what happened outta the blue, you've got me curious, y'know. What exactly didja do, HiMERU?

C'mon, I'll keep it a secret if ya tell me, y'know? How'd ya make the higher-ups totally lose it?

I don't wanna make the same mistake and set them off, so you oughta share all that info with the class, yeah?

Kaname: .....

Please refrain from speaking to me so casually. You'll infect me with your Non-Special Student cooties.

I'm not a good-for-nothing idiot like the rest of you.

Jun: 'Scuse me? Literally in what way are we different? We're both at the very bottom of the barrel, aren't we? We're sitting in the same Labour Camp wearing the same jersey and eating the same shitty food, in case ya haven't noticed!

Tatsumi: Is my food truly so disgusting...?

Jun: Ah— I only mean that as a figure of speech! Kazehaya-senpai, your cooking's the best, for real! I meant to say it was stinky, not shitty, kinda like the stuff you'd eat in a prison!

Tatsumi: Haha. If this were prison, then you all would be released so long as you remained patient enough to fulfill the labor asked of you. At the end of it all, you would be allowed to live in the same brilliantly shining world that the Special Students do.

Jun: Real life's nothing like that, though~ The walls here are so high that if you were to fall even once, you'd spend the rest of your life tryna climb back up.

Tatsumi: You mustn't lose hope, Jun-san. So long as you believe in such a world and work hard towards it, then one day you will be rewarded.

... Though, it isn't as if Reimei Academy's structure makes it particularly welcome to such sentiments.

HiMERU-san losing his rights as a Special Student is unusual, however. Nor have I ever heard of anyone becoming a Special Student if they were not already enrolled as one.

Jun: Hah! So you mean we all have no chance of success and just get to spend our lives getting bossed around like slaves, huh? Reimei Academy's fucking incredible!

Well, maybe that's just how it is in actual corporate life, too. You know, born a nobody and die a nobody and all that.

Tatsumi: Now, now, don't sulk... You're still young, Jun-san. You should look to the future with bright eyes, towards the hope that lies aplenty before you.

Jun: Hey, you're young too, Kazehaya-senpai. What's up with your old man act?

Actually, in your case I should say you act all mature, huh? You're always so calm and reliable~ No one would think you're only a year older than me.

Tatsumi: Is that so? Perhaps I’ve spent so much time around the elderly that I’ve begun to act like them too.

Oh, dear... I just remembered, I must leave for the catacombs soon.

Jun: Not again. You went last night and didn't come back 'til this morning, didn'tcha?

Tatsumi: Haha. As the one who founded them, it is only right that I take care of them, isn't it?

If ever you are interested in dropping by, Jun-san, please do so. And bring HiMERU-san as well, if possible.

Jun: What? Why him?

Dude, wasn't he sitting on top of ya with his hands 'round your neck when I came in?

If anything, I'd rather chase a dangerous guy like him right outta here, y'know?

Tatsumi: It was merely an accident, that's all. HiMERU-san happened to fall, and my body was there to catch him. Isn't that right?

Kaname: .....

Tatsumi: If it was done with ill intent in mind, I forgive you. I don't mind what happened one bit, but if possible I'd like to get along with you from here on out, HiMERU-san.

Kaname: .....

Tatsumi: Haha. Now then, I'll be off. ♪

♪~♪~♪

Jun: (Welp, there he goes... Kazehaya-senpai's as mysterious as ever — to this day I still can't tell what he's thinking.)

(And HiMERU feels like a ticking time bomb himself... Ugh, I feel like even more weird shit's gonna happen again.)

Jun: (All the same, I guess I'd prefer this to the usual daily routine of doing nothing but soul-crushing chores.)

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#enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #jun sazanami #kaname tojo #tatsumi kazehaya #s: obbligato #hyenahunttl

[xrenegadexangelx]

i draw rem like 24/7 now but i haven't posted a single one yet. here's a grab bag of stuff. if you told me i'd be drawing a dbh/yakuza crossover in 2022 i'd ask if you'd hit your head or something

everyone has their own take on rk900 right? more on mine below :+)

registered his own name at the behest of gavin, who felt it would be weird to call him by a number. why does connor get a name & you don't? they leave that out in the update? figure one out. you'll blend in better

so he ran a few searches thru name databases for names that started with r, eventually landing on 'rembrandt'. after some cursory reading, he found it curious how even centuries after rembrandt's death, art scholars still can't make up their minds about how to tell apart a forgery/copy from a real piece, resulting in constant misidentification of fakes & genuine articles alike. authenticating a bona fide rembrandt is no simple task… not even for experts. something about that resonated with him, a lone rk900

as they get close, gavin starts calling him rem, for short. & remy after they get even closer. he only likes that coming from gavin though. with anyone else he only answers to rembrandt

cyberlife did not make him smarter than connor. there's no way. that was the whole problem with connor! they made him TOO smart, & then look what he went & did. rem is indeed about as smart as connor, so, yeah, pretty sharp, but sometimes you can't help but get the sense that he's not exactly playing with a full deck. already trying to draw the picture before connecting the dots, that kinda thing

meathead with a heart of gold

as long as he's running, fighting, dancing, investigating, or parkouring, he's very nimble & graceful, always keeping a light step. under any other circumstances however he's a bull in a china shop

connor does coin tricks, rem makes string figures. so like cat's cradle & stuff. he can make them at near-imperceptible speeds

his combat style draws from bare-knuckle boxing, jeet kune do, & flamenco dancing

one time gavin made him watch the first fast & furious movie. rem liked it so much that he downloaded + watched the rest of the series. now he likes driving fast. so fast that gavin has to remind him there's a speed limit

picks up some of gavin's speech patterns after enough time with him. the juxtaposition between this & his usual deadpan eloquence is so much. erroneuously swapping out 'dude' with 'sir' or titles of address… eg "excuse us, DUDE, but we're going to have to ask you to leave" or "move along, dude, nothing to see here".

he & gavin have a secret handshake. it started out as a half-assed joke on gavin's part, but like all half-assed jokes, it took on a life of its own & became 110% unironic. they add something new to it after each case they finish together. currently it takes about 45 seconds to complete

quickly develops an affinity for animals after discovering gavin's life revolves around a dog, a ball python, & a tarantula (yes, they all love him) (especially thumper, who likes to hang out coiled around his arm)

in some ways he's even more of a loose cannon than gavin is. watching GAVIN tell someone they need to tone it down a notch is hilarious. but they balance each other out quite nicely

big metal teddy bear

heart of kazuma kiryu. attitude of spike spiegel. brain of shizuo heiwajima. strength + speed of all 3 put together. these are the ingredients to create the perfect self-indulgent blank slate character interpretation

there's more but this notepad window is so bright it's starting to hurt my eyes. but yeah this is my take on rk900. big dumb sweetheart!!!

#detroit become human #dbh #rk900 #fanart #he loves gavin so much. and clover. and thumper. and charlotte. #they have a whole menagerie at gavin's studio flat #i need to think of an art tag still #i like elephants and god likes elephants

[nachosncheeze]

3x20 Thoughts (Let's Leave That Name Out of It Edition)

I made a separate thoughts post around a character who I know to not be very popular but whom I rather like; you can read that here. As I said over there, this episode is great! Here's the rest of my thoughts:

I'm delighted for Ashley in this episode. I remember her commenting somewhere that when she was cast she was a little disappointed to find out she was going to be a computer scientist and not a cutting up gross bodies scientist (or something to that effect), so I'm pleased they found a moment to give Patterson a corpse. The look on her face when she's asked if she'd like to do the honors.... xD

I always forget there's a plot involving an assassin and comic books before all of the rest. But I do get a chuckle every time when Jane pulls a Kurt Weller and accidentally murders that one person that they really, really needed to question. At this point it's like part of the job description for CIRG: they're all hyper-competent, whether it's Kurt "Top Marksman" Weller or Jane "Holy Fucking Ninja" Doe, but their skills have to drop to the competence level of "Star Wars Imperial Storm Trooper, because only they have blast points so 'precise'" whenever there's a critical suspect that they need alive. Maybe I should do a parallels to the Akkadian and just title it "Oops" :P

Jane gets to fight a second time in this episode, in the mansion. She does so in her typically fierce way, but this time she's doing it for family. Every time I watch this episode, I inevitably get to thinking: I'm glad they kept Bethany out of the line of fire, truly I am. But can you IMAGINE if someone tried to come for Jeller while she was with them again, now that she's precocious and up and mobile on her own? Like I say, I'm damn glad it didn't happen and maybe ONE person in this whole show will avoid violent, life-altering trauma but... man, those two fierce idiots fighting to cover the toddler? That would be something to see.

Lastly, Roman. There's SO MUCH to say. But then Remi is there and I'm just screaming internally. Maybe I'll find some actual words in some human language later. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#blindspot #blindspot 3x20 #blindspot thoughts #blindspot rewatch 2023 #blindspot rewatch #blindspot s3 spoilers #bonus thought: jaimie's accent has really been coming through in the last handful of s3 episodes xD

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Gibbous Chapter 10

Chapter Title: The Arrow In Your Throat

Chapter Summary: Sleep, for Virgil, sadly did not resolve all of life’s issues. Of course, he didn’t presume it’d resolve much of anything. His life wasn’t an anime—he wasn’t going to fall asleep and wake up to discover he’d entered a magical fantasy world, unburdened by all of life’s hardships. If anything, he was more likely to end up as a true crime victim more than anything else

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic logicality

Chapter Word-Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Sickness

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Late posting but here is the newest chapter now on tumblr, enjoy!

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Sleep, for Virgil, sadly did not resolve all of life’s issues. Of course, he didn’t presume it’d resolve much of anything. His life wasn’t an anime—he wasn’t going to fall asleep and wake up to discover he’d entered a magical fantasy world, unburdened by all of life’s hardships. If anything, he was more likely to end up as a true crime victim more than anything else. He used to listen to true crime podcasts and wonder how those morons placed themselves in such situations that led to their doom.

He didn’t wonder that anymore.

So, no he didn’t think sleep would be really much help in the My-Best-Friend-Has-Possibly-Been-Mind-Controlling-Me department. He wasn’t asking for a magical fix-all. He had only hoped it’d at least lessen the pulsating headache that followed him from the night club. It would’ve been nice to wake up and be able to think coherent thoughts.

Whatever gods exist must be take pleasure at his expense or something, because that apparently had been too much to ask for. It was as if one of those brain-sucking insects Virgil saw on TV once crawled inside his ear and started burrowing a hole into his brain. It was a sharp, stinging, stabbing pain that only increased with the slightest tilt of his head.

It wasn’t just his head, however. His whole body twinged like an army of fire ants marched across it, carving a war path of stinging aches behind. His body also decided to pressure-cook the contents of his innards or something, because he felt like a sentient boiling pot. He groaned, sluggishly bringing a hand to rest against his forehead.

“Fuck.” Virgil exhaled, fingers clutching tightly to his fleece blanket. He wanted to tear the fabric apart, sentimental value or not. No, better yet, he wanted to punch someone, feel the rush of forbidden adrenaline from the action. It wouldn’t solve anything, but it might make feel him better.

Sick. He was sick again. Just like he was sick several weeks ago and how he’ll be sick in the weeks to come. The lack of energy, brain fog, the headache of last night—he should know by now those were signs of an oncoming cold. Gods know he had his entire life to learn how to anticipate and prepare for his ailment of the month.

Deep down, he knew he’d let his guard down because the last few months had been mild. A few sniffles here, an earache there. He’d been doing so well that he should’ve known it was inevitable that he’d eventually get hit with something akin to flu-like levels of devastation. After all, who was Virgil to think a few months of perceived fortune was anything indicative of something long-lasting?

An unwanted wetness dripped down his face. Apparently, he was a moron, a pathetic coward who’d refused to see the truth that danced so blatantly in front of his eyes. Jerad had said it best; Remy and the others didn’t care about him. Not really—he was just a curiosity, a plaything to them. They probably found it amusing to string him along, to see in which ways he’d flee away or fight back with them.

Sure, Jerad was not much different—but at least he was more upfront with it. It was Virgil’s fault for falling it, of course. He should’ve known better—why had he given them the benefit of doubt so easily?

Virgil knew, of course, why. Loneliness, the desperate need to belong somewhere, played a huge factor. But it was much more than that. It wrapped up in a promise, an oath unspoken to anyone but his parents.

“Promise that if you come across a supernatural being—be it vampire, werewolf or otherwise—you treat them with the respect and manners we’d expect you to treat anyone, be it a grown-up or your friends even. If they mean you immediate harm, you do what is necessary to protect yourself. But unless you know someone is a supernatural being, you cannot share this promise with them.”

Virgil didn’t fully understand it back then. He still didn’t understand to this day. But he’d trusted his parents, trusted they’d knew better than anyone else for the simple fact of being his parents.

Maybe his parents knew a vampire or some other supernatural being who’d been kind. Maybe they’d hoped to reveal to him when he was older, why exactly they asked that of him. It didn’t matter now—it wasn’t like he was ever going to find out. That door was forever closed to him.

Virgil didn’t doubt his parents’ words. He believed they thought that sentiment was true, otherwise they wouldn’t have made him swore to it. They could still be true—but maybe not in the case of Remy and the others.

He didn’t know and it just hurt his head even more just thinking about it.

“Fuuuck.” Virgil whispered, his voice dry and crackly like a faint radio signal.

There was nothing more he wanted than to curl up under his blanket and hoped he could ignore the whole world and its problems. If there was one benefit to being sick, it was at least a physical manifestation of how miserable he felt mentally.

Then, as if the gods decided to fuck with him even further, his alarm on his phone to wake up for work went off.

He blindly made a grab for his phone, nearly dropping the damn thing in the process. He brought it within the safety confines of his blanket, blearily staring at the alarm notification. The noise grated against his ears as he stared at it. He needed to turn it off, but his brain was too occupied with the task of trying to think about the dilemma of work.

Sickness aside, the thought of going to work made him want to puke.

Sure, apparently Remy wouldn’t be there. Great news for Virgil because he didn’t think he could handle the sight of him. Not without the memory of how effortlessly he enthralled that poor bartender without any hesitation or hint of remorse. Red eyes that could hurt Virgil so easily without even his knowledge. The mere idea hurt—because it was Remy, who seemed to think Virgil meant something.

It was also Remy, who illegally confiscated his personal records and pressured him into a job interview without batting an eye.

He still didn’t understand why Remy hadn’t chased after him last night. Or why he’d abruptly decided to take a leave of absence from their work. Was this some sort of ploy to lure him into a false sense of security? Was Logan in on the plan?

That was the thing as well. Remy aside, walking into work would be like walking into a den of wolves. Lately, Logan kept asking questions that felt probing in nature.  

“You are aware you don’t have to do everything on your own strength—that you can rely on others for help, yes?” Logan asked him a week back as he kept Virgil from toppling a whole crate of books over.

“Uh yeah?” Virgil muttered, moving to pick up the lone book that had fallen out. Logan regarded him with a look. He didn’t seem disappointed, but he also didn’t seem pleased either. Before Virgil could even say anything else, Logan nodded and murmured something about missing an important meeting.

Logan was definitely the furthest thing from Cathy. He had specifically gifted Virgil a stepstool and occasionally bought him lunch. But if there was anything Virgil learned from life, be it from foster-homes, teachers, or employers, was that it was all a test. A way to see just how far he’d be obedient and stay loyal to their authority.

Perhaps Virgil never quite escaped that basement to begin with. The library was, in its own way, a cage. Should Virgil fail to show up there to do his sentence, there might be consequences worse than the sickness he currently faced.

Therefore, these were the thoughts ruminating in his brain, as the alarm notification continued to screech. Minutes later, perhaps even a half hour, a banging noise erupted on the other side of his door.

“Hey, are you going fucking shut off that alarm or what? It’s fucking annoying!”

Virgil flinched, his finger immediately tapping at the phone screen until the alarm notification shut off. He closed his eyes and stuck out his hand from the covers a middle finger to whatever gods cackling with glee at his misery.

Of course, he got sick. Of course, his best friend hypnotized people for fun and his other friends were the people that once locked him inside a basement for a day. Of course, he managed to fuck things for himself even further up and wake up his hungover roommate.

There was a rule, not one exactly spoken aloud but one understood explicitly between Jerad and Virgil. And it was simple: don’t make any interaction, don’t even make a noise, or turn on a light, when dealing with hungover Jerad.

“S—sorry.” Virgil called out, keeping his voice soft for the sake of quelling Jerad’s temper and for the sake of his throat.

“A-apology, not a—accepted.” Jerad laughed as the doorknob rattled, “Now, could you open the door?”

Virgil could open the door, yes. If he wanted to open the door was another question entirely. He’d like for a physical barrier to stay between him and an irate hungover Jerad, thank you very much. However, the chances Jerad couldn’t knock down a cheaply made interior apartment door was slim to none.

Both Jerad and Virgil knew, it was better for Virgil to stop being a coward and just open the door. It saved a door from being unnecessarily destroyed and it saved Virgil’s paycheck from having to pay for it. So, with legs like gelatin, Virgil headed towards the door.

“Are you deaf inside there—”

“I’m doing it right now.” Virgil snapped. With a trembling hand, he unlocked the door before yanking it wide open.

Jerad blinked down at him with his jaw slightly ajar. He still reeked of alcohol, having not bothered changing out of his outfit from the night before. Virgil’s stomach debated throwing up at the smell. For Virgil’s sake, it settled on simply feeling nauseous by it.

“So,” Virgil said, crossing his arms, “whass’up?”

This seemed to jerk Jerad back to life. A grin slithered onto his face as he knocked a fist against Virgil’s shoulder. “What’s up? What’s up is you look like shit. Did your light-weight ass drink too much?”

Slightly hypocritical coming from a dude squinting in the dim dingy light stemming from a tiny apartment window.

“No, I’m sick.”

“Siiick, uh-huh, suuuure,” Jerad drawled, “It’s funny how you always get “sick” yet I never end up getting sick myself.”

Virgil withheld a grimace. So, they were going to have this conversation again, weren’t they?

“I mean, you always talk about having a strong immunity due to working out?”

“That’s true, I never miss leg day,” Jerad said, chuckling. He clamped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder like the world’s worst neck pillow. “I’m starting to think, though, you’re just being a wimp about allergies. Or maybe, you’re just saying it as an excuse to get out of hanging out with me.”

“No, I swear I’m not—”

“Then you’ll fine to go bar-hopping with me tonight? Maybe go call up that chick of yours and we could have a threesome?” Jerad whispered close to his ear, “I mean, if you don’t want to hang out with me, just say it. Don’t just say you’re sick when we both you know you really aren’t.”

Virgil’s vision swarmed with black dots. Maybe those fire ants from earlier were still pestering him. It would explain the prickling agitation behind his eye sockets. His legs wobbled a bit like that of a newborn foal. The only thing that kept him collapsing was Jerad’s arm snug around his shoulder.

“I’m—okay,” Virgil breathed, trying to not to cough. Because if he coughed, Jerad would just accuse him of faking it and that’d worsen the problem, “You’re right, it’s just allergies, I can go, it’s fine—but I have work—”

Virgil cut off his sentence as Jerad abruptly released him. He stumbled, almost face planting with the doorframe before catching hold of it with his hands. He pressed his forehead against it, trying to will his headache away as the sound of Jerad’s amused cackle only made it worse.

“Man, I was only joshing you, you should’ve seen your face,” Jerad said in between fits of laughter, “I’m glad you’re not chickening out of tonight, though, it’s going to be dope! I’ll be sure to text you the deets!”

“Wait,” Virgil wheezed as Jerad started to walk off, “Are you going to give a ride to work today still?”

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to answer, especially a day like today where Jerad’s mood was unpredictable. But as much as Virgil hated riding in cars, it was the fastest way to work aside from taking public transportation. Something that costed money whereas Jerad had been nice lately to do it for free.

“Nah, not today. I have a headache I need to sleep off,” Jerad shrugged his shoulders, “Asides, you could use the exercise, you’ve slacking on leg day, dude—you should take up running or something.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, because what else could he say? He didn’t have a right to be angry because Jerad wasn’t under any obligation to give him a ride. He was lucky enough that Jerad didn’t chew him out for even suggesting the idea.

Like Jerad said, walking might actually be better. The clean air—well, as clean as city air could be—might be able to loosen up his congestion along with chugging down some cold medicine. Which he’d do as soon as his vision stopped spinning. Any moment now. Yeah, he was totally fine and not in any sort of way fucked.

Virgil’s fingers curled tightly against the doorframe. He could do this; this was nothing compared to the bedridden mess he dealt with in his senior year of high school. If he could stand relatively upright, he could be a reanimated corpse for capitalism. He just needed to chug down some cough medicine and he’d be fine.

The second alarm on his phone went off, reminding him if he wanted to make it to work on time, he better start moving.

-

As he downed his second protein shake for the day, Logan tried to keep his eyes off his phone. Studies have proven that people are susceptible to being distracted from work or other important tasks by their mobile devices. The lure of social media apps and mobile games caused a considerable drop in productivity and mental health. Neither of those were the cause for Logan—rather, it was the fifth time Patton attempted calling him. The fifth time that Logan pointedly ignored it, allowing it to go straight to voicemail.

There was no point in answering. He already knew why Patton was calling and he knew that the conversation would go nowhere.

Technically he wasn’t supposed to be at the library.

With every second he remained at his desk; his body only continually reminded him of this. An itchy, wrongness of his skin. An insatiable hunger demanding to be quelled. A fervent desire to be with pack, to protect and be protected by those he treasured most.

Normally, on a day like today, Logan would wake up with Patton’s arm slung across his torso and with Roman’s head leaning against his legs. Logan would huff at this but more of a feigned exasperation than anything else. The wolfish part of Logan was soothed at being in such close proximity. He knew better than to try to sneak off this particular time of the month; the one time he attempted the pain was unbearable. It reminded him of a cold concrete sidewalk, a piece of silver dug deep into flesh, howls that received no answers. Or well, it had seemed like no one would answer.

When he woke up this morning—no comfort could be sought at the mere sight of Roman and Patton resting peacefully at his side. Not when there was a wolf missing from the den, a packmate in need to be protected and kept safe. He could not rest until he saw to it that Virgil was okay. From what Remy informed him over the phone last night, Virgil was not okay. He was very far from being okay and Logan doubted he could make a difference today to make Virgil okay. Still, he had to make an effort, not only for Virgil but for Remy as well.

“You remember the promise, Logan?” Remy had asked, a crackle in his voice that Logan was certain had nothing to do with poor cell service.

“To never harm Virgil?” Logan asked, although it hardly needed clarification.

“Well, I am asking for an amendment on it—can you look after Virgil? Make sure he’s okay for me?”

“Of course, I can do that, but Remy I do think it’s best if you try and reach out to Virgil and clear up the misunderstanding that transpired—”

“Gurl, you don’t think I want to do that?” Remy interrupted, “you don’t think I didn’t want to chase after him?”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort, Remy—”

“He’s scared, Logan, and he has a damn right to be scared. I can’t—I can’t—he needs someone he can trust, and that I’ve tried to be that person, but I’ve already fucked it up twice. You didn’t see his face, tonight—he’s not going to hear me out Logan.”

“Okay,” Logan said, exhaling slowly, “then what would you like for me to do?”

“I’ll take a leave of absence, fire me if you have to—I’m broke, but I’m not broke enough that I can’t survive a bit without a job. And let Virgil know that—he needs to know the library is still safe, got it?”

“I can do that, yes.”

“And one last thing, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“If you find out who’s been hurting Virgil, you better let me know because I want in on that blood hunt. I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.” Remy said before abruptly hanging up.

So, Logan needed to ensure Virgil knew he was safe. He needed to find a way to show Virgil he could trust Logan and the others. He needed to see to it that Virgil was safe and secure with the rest of the pack. He couldn’t break Virgil’s trust.

The wolf wanted to simply snatch Virgil and tuck him a pile of blankets and pillows to be done with it. Like Logan, it didn’t like complicated emotions. However, the wolf also knew one thing was certain and it was that pack didn’t betray pack’s trust.

Such an act was akin to suicidal in werewolves’ minds. It was known that werewolves were naturally aversive to such notions, to the point of feeling physical pain over it. From an evolutionary point of view, it made sense. There was safety in numbers, and it made sense for werewolves to develop an instinctual need to stay together.

Thus, the reason Logan was at work today. Of course, this accounted that Virgil would still be showing up to work. Last night’s incident could’ve scared Virgil enough to completely cut off all ties from Remy and the pack.

A quiet whine escaped Logan at the thought of this. He clasped a hand around his mouth, his whole body shuddering involuntarily. Oh, how he hated how irrational he became during this time of the month. It interfered with his ability to think clearly and logically in a situation. Something he needed if he was going to be able to help Virgil.

He’d already tried being subtle and indirect with his support. Due to Virgil being a closed-off, cautious individual who exhibited symptoms of anxiety, he thought that would be the best approach. As he had explained to Patton, if someone was hurting Virgil in some way—being direct could scare Virgil off.

But perhaps a new approach should be considered. Maybe, he needed to find a way to be more open with his concern while also not alienating Virgil. Something easier to ponder than to actually achieve.

Along with Virgil’s skittishness, Logan was self-admittedly deficient in the emotions department. Theoretically he understood them, but gods knew how many times he blundered a social situation through his ignorance of their applicable use.

Virgil was also human, and Logan knew all too well how humans could be stubborn and prone to clinging to self-denial to the point of harming themselves in the process.

“Virgil, these past few weeks, I’ve been respectful and hoped you’d speak of your own volition, but there’s something I must address—no, no,” Logan muttered, running a hand through his hair. Too formal, too wordy, too criticizing.

“Virgil, I’ve been concerned—”

“—you’ve been withdrawing more and more—”

“Can you please inform me of what is troubling you so I may help—”

Knock, knock, knock . Logan straightened his posture, hands drifting towards pen and paper.  Just as he was about to say, “Come in” the door creaked open.

He knew who the person was before they stepped in. It was one of the more fascinating aspects of becoming a werewolf—smell became almost like a second-vision. It’d been overwhelming at first to adjust to it, but Logan struggled now to remember life before his senses became heightened.

The scent of home, of half-burnt cookies and a promise unbroken, hit his nostrils. Half of him wanted to rush to his feet for an embrace. The other half wanted to cower with his head lowered. Most of all, his skin itched. He— it wanted out.

“Logan,” Patton said, closing the door behind him. He didn’t take a step closer, his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t need to say it in words; Logan could sense the disapproval drifting off him in waves.

“Patton, I am fine,” Logan said, a growl rising low in his throat, “You know I can control myself and there are things I need to attend to—”

An electrifying jolt of pain struck him. Logan wheezed, his pen falling with a clatter from his trembling hands. His skin was too itchy, too clammy, too tight against his body.

Warm hands cupped his face. Logan whined, leaning into the touch, and letting it ground himself.

“Logan,” Patton whispered, apparently giving way to pity, “it’s not a matter of control, you know this.”

‘It’s a matter of balance.’ Logan thought, knowing all too well the song and dance.

Logan gripped the sides of his desk, forcing himself away from Patton. “It’s—I’m fine, Patton, just a momentary lapse. I need to be here.”

Patton tilted his head, frowning. “For Virgil?” He guessed softly.

“Yes, I couldn’t—I just need to ensure he is alright and—and convince him to adhere to reason—”

“What if you can’t? What if he refuses to listen?”

“He will listen,” Logan insisted, despite not quite fully believing his own words.

Patton stared at him, his face so carefully void of any expression. Logan fidgeted, unnerved by the other’s behavior. If Patton didn’t verbally express it, his emotions were always evident on his face. After decades by his side, Logan knew how to read the slightest wrinkle in Patton’s brow. But this? Logan didn’t know what to make of it.

“It hurts.”

“What?”

“Virgil,” Patton clarified with a smile that reached nowhere near his eyes, “I know it hurts to be separated from those your instincts insist are pack. But you can’t force someone to be pack—it doesn’t work that way. Even if feels like agony without that person by your side.”

“Patton, you—I—” Logan choked out, his throat inadvertently tightening up on him. Patton dipped his head, a silent acknowledgement of Logan’s unspoken words. He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say was stolen by the slow, hesitant knock on Logan’s office door.

“Yes, what is it?” Logan asked, the words tight and terse.

“Logan, it’s me, Virgil. There’s a, uh, package from FedEx addressed to you.”

He looked at Patton. Who, despite his words merely moments before, looked ready to knock down the door and smother Virgil in a fierce embrace. Unlike Logan, Patton hadn’t seen Virgil in nearly two weeks. The two only exchanged the briefest of greetings before Virgil hurried away with an excuse of some sort. Logan suppressed a grimace; at least he regularly saw Virgil. He couldn’t fathom Patton’s own pain at being abruptly cut off without warning.

Logan nodded to Patton, waving a hand towards the door. A glimpse of a grin slipped onto Patton’s face before he bounded over. Logan rose from his chair to follow after him, his heart pounding too quick for his liking. Would Virgil be more prone to listen to his concerns with Patton present or would he feel cornered and flee as soon as he could? Should he wait for a more ideal time?

Patton swung open the door and all of Logan’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt .

Virgil stood there, engulfed in that black plaid hoodie he always wore. The one with the raggedy hem and the drawstrings reduced to threads. This was normal. What wasn’t normal was the way he leaned on the doorframe, his skin a blanched pallor.  Virgil swayed a bit as his fingers clung tightly to a small FedEx package.

He blinked, bewilderment seizing his face as if he’d forgotten why he came to Logan’s office. He looked up from the package in his hands until he slowly met Patton’s gaze. He squinted at him, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Virgil?” Patton asked.

“Logan,” Virgil said, looking right at Patton, “Why-whyyou—why are you wearing one of Pat’s hoodies?”

Confusion. Dizziness. Slurred speech. He knew Virgil would be emotionally unwell from last night’s events. Logan didn’t think he’d also be physically unwell. None of the words Logan had prepared to say seemed to matter now.

Patton spluttered, glancing in Logan’s direction with a pinched crease in his brow.

“Virgil,” Patton began.

But he’d no sooner said that when Virgil proceeded to plummet rapidly towards the floor, the package slipping out from his unconscious fingers.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #kat writes

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 31

Chapter title: Soon

A/n: Stands awkwardly. Hi! Okay so, i know its been two years since the previous chapter and I honestly did not think I would be writing a new one. But this story deserves an ending so I do intend to finish it to all those still out there who read it. So whoever is still here, thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter <3

First | Previous | Next

words: 1511

summary: Pattons finally recovering, where does everyone go from here?

pairings: Logicality, Prinxiety, platonic Demus, romantic Remile

warnings: Hospital mention, Courthouse/Law mentions

Ao3 Link  

“I'm cleared!” Patton announces, a tired whoop from the crowded room makes him giggle. Logan grunts in approval, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I get to go home” He explains quietly to the sleeping twins resting on his bed, his fingers carding through their hair.

“And while we’re all ela-” Roman pauses, yawning “-ted, it's far too early” Virgil nods, looking sadly at his now empty cup of coffee. 

“He should be able to be checked out around noon today, we want to go over some home care, medicines he’ll need to be taking…” Patton nods along, not sure where the doctor's instructions fell out of tune but Roman was right it really was too early. Once she had finished, given an extra copy of instructions to Logan and taken her leave, the two made their way out.

“Work and stuff” Virgil had, oh so kindly explained, taking his leave with Roman sleepily guiding him the right way. The lawyer couldn't help but smile, glad his friends finally put the puzzle pieces back together. 

“Hmm” Logan hummed next to him, “I'll be back around noon to pick you up, Emile and Remy have agreed to take the kids for a bit so you'll only have to worry about rest” He explained through his own suppressed yawn. Patton flashes a grateful smile to the detective and his partner, receiving two thumbs up from Remy. He watches as the couple gently lift the sleeping children, waving t​​hem off. “And while I love you” Logan continued “I have work to get to” 

“Aw shucks, you sure you dont wanna hang out with me and my Friends reruns?” Patton teases, Logan lips turn up slightly, signs of an amused smile. “Go, be a lawyer, I'll see you at noon” He assures, tugging the taller down only a bit to plant a kiss.

“Noon then” He confirms before joining the others and leaving Patton alone once more. 

“Finally” he stretches. Don't get him wrong, he loved his friends, he loved Logan, his kids. But finally, eyes weren't constantly watching him, he could breathe. He only hoped this refreshing feeling continued at home. He was finally feeling like himself again, his fingers itching to be back in the courthouse, standing in front of a judge fighting for something, for someone. “George!” He exclaims to himself, rushing for his phone on his nightstand. He practically punches in the number. “George” He smiles, the other line connects instantly. He hears apologetic rambles at first listening as they turn into worries for the lawyer then a burning anger of vengeance. Christ, Patton could barely get a word in. “Ge-” He tries, cant blame him for not being heard over what he thinks is the man shouting at the tv for…existing? He can't help but laugh, shaking his head. “George,” He states firmly, finally receiving silence. He knows, knows you should never judge solely by a cover. Any man can fake who they are, any person can smile while hiding a sinister secret. But Patton couldn't help it, this man wasn't capable of what he'd been accused of.  “I'd love to meet up” 

~~~ “Too early” Virgil complains again, “Early early early” He shakes in defiance. Roman finishes checking himself and his guest into the courthouse, wrapping up a polite conversation with Jenny. 

“Honey” He begins, Virgil's soft “Early”s continuing “Ho-ney” he enunciates, taking his partner's hand. “Coffee?” He offers, allowing himself to ignore just how many the detective had already consumed. Suddenly, like magic, Virgil brightens. Or, as much as he could. After all, he needed some coffee in him. “Come along then, my treat”

“Well I'd sure hope so” the shorter quips, nudging Roman.

“You are spoiled” he decides, lifting up Virgil's hand to kiss it sweetly, regardless of his words.

“Blasphemy, I am so unspoiled, in fact i a-” And before Virgil can continue whatever tangent he planned, Roman saves himself and his ears, he kisses his partner swallowing up whatever words he had. “Cheater” “Work smarter, not harder” Roman grins. And even with Virgil's mumbles of rejection, he was smiling. 

“Is that what you teach my kid when you babysit?” Virgil sighs, though his disappointment is only an act. 

“Absolutely!” Roman nods, his smile wider than ever. “I tell him, I say ‘Damian. Listen, when you're in math class, simply use a calculator’ and oh does he smile” 

“Oh my god, you're a terrible influence” Virgil laughs, feeling his chest bubble with warmth. “He needs to learn how to do math without the calculator” “Virgil” Roman turns, taking the detective's face in his hands. “Mi amor” He starts, Virgil rolls his eyes covering his obvious blush. “When, literally when, will he ever have to do math where a calculator is not available” Romans eyes are stern.

“That's so not the point, it's good for him to have the skill” Virgil rebuts

“The answer is never! Never is he going to be an adult, doing math that requires a calculator, where a calculator is not available” He turns back to the path, stopping by the coffee stand, ordering two cups. 

“You're impossible” Virgil whispers, with absolutely zero malicious intent, watching his breath in the cold air. He joins the judges side, thanking him for the coffee. 

Strolling the courthouse, both fully aware there was no destination, made him happy. Being by Romans side, even in silence, made him happy.

Virgil was happy. 

The guilt washed away with ease. Every ounce that had been shoving him to his knees, grinding them to pieces, let him go. Patton was okay, he was going home, safe. Liam hadn't bothered the group since Logan put him in his place. Remy and him had been forgiven, by both Patton and Logan. James, may he rot, was in jail. And Roman was his. All his to love for however long he was permitted to, a small- no, a big part hoped it was forever. At this bright hour of 8:05 AM, Virgil allowed himself this moment of self indulgence. This moment to be selfish, coffee in one hand, Roman in the other.

He was happy. 

~~~

“I am not happy, Tolentino” Heard, processed, and instantly forgotten. Logan's head was killing him, the last thing he needed was a scolding and running on no coffee as well. “I think we need to have a discussion about your recent work ethic”

“Mhm” Logan was barely listening, honestly, his mind was nowhere at the moment. His boss could be firing him from the firm, but he was far too tired to care. After another lecture, Logan was dismissed, giving him ample opportunity to find the nearest coffee booth and consume all of it. 

He had been skeptical of the firm working out of the courthouse at first. Lawyers coming in and out, cases he wasn't on though dying to participate happening just next door, the judges bothering him, it had a recipe for disaster written all over it. But it ended up being perfect. It was exactly the place he wanted to work at. If his stuffy office ever got too much, just a quick stroll and he could find himself in the courtyard, listening to the steady fountain flow. 

It was perfect.

Plus, this is where he met Patton. Fell in love with him, proposed to him, and watched him everyday.

That wasn't so bad. 

He smiled, lifting the coffee to his lips, sipping carefully at the hot beverage. One could argue the worst things also happened here, and they wouldn't be wrong. But the good for Logan, far outweighed the bad. The love of his life walked these halls everyday, lighting up his path as he smiled. Hm, he thought to himself, he should call Patton. He missed his fiancee, and noon was so far away.

“Patton Hart!” A familiar yet welcome warmth creeped on Logan.

“Whos taking whos last name” Well. That was definitely not how he wanted to start the conversation. 

“Well,” Patton thought for a moment, considering Logan's question with sincerity. “Patton Tolentino”

Oh

Logan would blame the red tint of his cheeks on the cold air. 

“Its not bad…but I like my last name!” Patton chirps, Logan nods, covering his mouth “And it's the kids last name” It is, Logan's mind was gone once more. Patton Tolentino, Patton Tolentino, the name ran through his mind. “Lo?”

“Present” A soft giggle resonated through the phone “Logan Hart” He repeats, it felt odd falling off his tongue at first. “Loooogan Hart” He tried once more, it wasn't bad. However, could such a sweet name, filled with adoration, suit him. With his mind busy, he hadn't noticed the other line had gone quiet. “Honeybee?” He inquires softly

“Can't we just get married already” Had he not been listening so intently, Logan would have missed the whisper of desperation. 

“What about combining them?” He proposes. A laugh rings through, approving the idea. They continue an idle conversation, but Patton's question continues to play over and over in his mind.

Soon.

Soon, I promise. 

#objection au #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #logicality #prinxiety #remile #demus #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #youtube #remy sanders #emile picani #write #writing #ao3 #archive of our own

[thestingerblog]

5 months after The Rehearsal, The Show Goes On

by Sam

Read on our site

On July 15, 2022, the first episode of The Rehearsal, Nathan Fielder's experimental comedic docu-series that showcased simulations of nerve-wracking or life-changing scenarios to perfect reacting to them, aired on HBO. With every new episode of the show, I found myself more deeply considering the implications of reality shows and their existence as a form of media when there seems to be a manipulating middle-man between the audience and the participants guiding a narrative. Though I never watched reality TV shows before watching Fielder’s work, I recently have grown more aware of questioning the intentions of reality TV shows.

Recently, while watching a new Abbott Elementary on ABC at the end of November, about 4 and a half months after The Rehearsal’s premiere, with my friend, I saw an ad for a new ABC reality show titled The Parent Test, which is based on the Australian reality series similarly titled Parental Guidance. While watching the trailer, I couldn’t help but think that the show is an antithesis to The Rehearsal. As a disclaimer, I have not watched The Parent Test and the following piece is more of a criticism of the format of the show rather than the actual content.

The Parent Test markets itself as an intense examination and comparison of twelve families’ parenting styles through intense and difficult trials, such as having parents convince their children to try diving. However, that unaddressed disconnect between the audience and participants looms above the show as it’s clear that the children in the show aren’t really old enough to fully grasp the idea that a large portion of their personal lives will be shared on TV. That’s a question that The Rehearsal explores by spotlighting Remy, who briefly played the role of Adam, Fielder’s simulated child in the show. Remy is young enough that he cannot discern the difference between reality and simulation, similar to how viewers have a difficult time identifying how much of reality TV is real. Even more heartbreaking, viewers witness incredibly personal moments with Remy and his mother as Fielder visits them and attempts to tell the fatherless child who views Fielder as his “pretend daddy” that their father-son relationship is now over.

Presenting others’ personal moments on screen has always been something that’s questionable in terms of filming and sharing with the world, but reality shows often use these moments as a way to draw viewers in and increase feelings of authenticity. However, in the case of The Rehearsal, many audience members can’t help but question whether Fielder was correct for putting a child in such a stressful situation. While Fielder acknowledges his mistakes during his own parental rehearsal and attempts to rectify them in his own strange manner, other reality TV shows such as The Parent Trap seem unaware of the implications of exposing these high-stress situations as they simply use the format of reality TV without deeply considering its implications. Of course, with any reality TV shows, the families most likely signed documents consenting for their child to be put in these situations, but it’s hard to imagine that these children understand that their lives are being filmed for the entertainment of the world and that this footage will be around for a long time. That brings in the question of whether parents truly do know what’s best for the child, a question that Fielder asks Amber, the mother of Remy.

When Fielder asks Amber, “How do you convince yourself [that Remy will be okay]?” Amber simply replies, “I didn’t convince myself. I’m just going to make sure that he’s okay, so he is. And I just know.” Fielder spends the rest of the finale attempting to search for what he believes makes Amber an ideal parent and by the end of the episode, he realizes that being the perfect parent means accepting that situations will be imperfect and that no matter how hard one might try to prepare for something, unexpected mishaps will always happen along the way. I can only hope that The Parent Trap is self-aware enough to similarly recognize that each parenting style is unique and that parents are humans too, and humanity isn’t the same without our imperfections.

#comedy #nathan fielder #article #tv #tv show #analysis #blog post #reality tv

[dakotaxatwood]

LILI REINHART, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER✦ DAKOTA ATWOOD the TWENTY-SEVEN year old has been in Hidehill for her WHOLE LIFE and was a FORMER STUDENT to Miyeon Kang, the murder victim. Whispers on the streets are that the PARAMEDIC who lives in HARTLEY AVENUE are said to be LOYAL and HEADSTRONG but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

Full Name: Dakota Bethany Atwood

Age: 27

Date Of Birth: 5 January 1996

Zodiac: Capricorn

Parents: Remington Atwood Sr & Annalise Atwood

Siblings: Remy Atwood @remykatwood

Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Paramedic

Languages: English & Italian

Positive: Loyal, determined, generous, empathetic, resourceful

Negative: Headstrong, stubborn, honest, afraid of failure, independent 

CONNECTIONS | PINTEREST

A BRIEF HISTORY

Dakota was born at Hide General, into a wealthy family helmed by her father, Remington Atwood. In what Remington would later describe as being in ‘true Dakota fashion’, she beat her twin out of the womb by 3 minutes and 7 seconds; something that she would have no trouble with holding over her sibling’s head in order to assert some well-placed dominance. 

Dakota was a go-getter from an early age, brimming with ambition and opportunity, thanks to her familial wealth. Both her and her twin had the chance to try almost everything; dance, sports, arts and everything in-between all at their fingertips. Dakota enjoyed anything competitive and found little thrills in winning.

To outsiders, the Atwoods appeared to be the perfect family, but behind closed doors was a different story. Dakota’s parents were married in title only; they treated each other as acquaintances. They did their best to co-parent the twins to allow them to grow up in a functional household, but the frostiness between them was evident to Dakota from an early age.

As she got older, Dakota began to resent her parents. She couldn't understand the decision to stay together in misery just for the sake of what she perceived to be protecting their image. The twins were old enough to realise they weren’t happy, and every family dinner and holiday celebration felt like a ridiculous act to her. She longed for independence and freedom from the clutches of her fraudulent life. 

After she graduated from school, Dakota took a year off to travel and more importantly, put distance between her and her family. Her first stop was Italy, where she met Luca - her first real love - so real that she cancelled the rest of her European gap year to stay with him. He taught her Italian, how to cook pasta from scratch, and how to loosen up a little. However there was always a subtle gloom hanging over the both of them, knowing that they were living on borrowed time. When it came time for Dakota to return to America she begged Luca to come with her, but he had deep familial bonds that he wasn’t willing to fracture for her. She saw the irony in it; he refused to leave his family and she was desperately running away from hers.

Dakota entertained the idea of moving as far away as possible to go to college, but ultimately returned to Nashville on the promise from her father that her studies would be paid for. She had reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that she would not be returning to the family home, opting instead to move to Hartley Avenue.

NOW

Dakota works at the very same hospital she was born in as a Paramedic and can often be found post night-shift hunched over an almond latte at Verdure Cafe. Lately she has felt like she could be striving for more, and is considering going back to medical school to become a doctor.

TW: DEATH While her job is never easy and always unpredictable, the recent occurrences in Hidehill have Dakota on a knife’s edge. Every call out she receives has her wondering more than ever if she will be finding the body of someone she cares about, and she can’t shake the anxiety no matter how hard she attempts to. 

#hidehillintro #this needs an update :) #( — backstory. )

[indelibleevidence]

2022 in review!

8, 14, 17 please!

8 - What fic made you happiest to work on?

Torture Without You, because I finished it! (I'm on desktop right now, so I'm emoji-less, but insert all of the emojis here!) :D

14 - What was the hardest fic to title?

Most of what I've worked on this year already had titles - and I really haven't written as much as I thought I had. I guess the hardest would be the Reller fic I'm 12k into writing (waaay down the Damaged Goods series timeline). I've not posted any of it yet, but I still haven't come up with a title, which I usually have by now, because I usually post as soon as I have something long enough.

17 - Share your favourite piece of dialogue.

Honestly, I've been through everything I've written this year, and none of the dialogue of the stuff I've posted stands out as incredibly quoteworthy. I guess this part from the untitled Reller-in-progress (it's Kurt speaking to a spiralling Remi):

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Most people couldn’t deal with even half of what you’ve been through, and you’ve carried on through all of it. Of course you want to stop. Of course you want to rest. You can’t judge yourself for that.”

*

Thank you for the ask! And if anyone else wants to, it's here.

#2022 year in review meme #ask response

[altegos]

Protection Verse: Season One - Recommended Reading Order

Please note this is a simply a recommendation to help things make the most sense, but whatever order you read it in (within reason) should be alright.

Titles link to the fic on AO3 - the numbers link to the relative post on Tumblr.

Surviving Five Nights - Something foul is going on at Freddy Fazbear's. With creepy worn, old animatronics wandering around at night, something sinister creeping down the hall, and more questions cropping up with each passing night, maybe Yan should have considered getting another job.

Night 1 - Night 2 -  Night 3 - Night 4 - Night 5 - Day Shift Night 6: Yan - Night 6: Rowan -  Custom Night - Bad Ending

Hellhound and Humanoids - After the fire at Fazbear's, Yan and a recently wiped Rowan wind up at an old mansion looking for stuff to sell so they can keep the car running. But the building and the beings inside will make their mission far from an easy one.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4  - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

[SFN and HaH should be read before Season One: part 152]

Project Geminos - Where did Dark find the Jim Twins? Why are they both called Jim? And why are they.....the way they are? And why is it that everybody loves them?

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07

All That Glitters is Not Gold - The Silver Shepherd is more than just a superhero

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07

Jackie Boy Man: Isolation - College is where you prepare for the rest of your life, and Jack is starting to think maybe he should hang up the mask. Enemy-turned-friend, the Medic disagrees, and Remy is convinced there’s something seriously wrong, but then he disappears. Are they right or is the would-be-hero just dreaming?

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07

Never Enough - It's funny isn't it? How just as you're ready to give up on everything, as in absolutely everything, life throws you a bone.....to then beat you round the head with it.

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05

Season One: Not As You Know Them - Dark found them, he's brought them together under one roof, he's offered them all the same protection from some unknown threat. But they're all strange, unique people and other troubles are not far behind. How long can Dark really keep them safe?

<<Season One Tumblr masterlist>>

Escape the Motherloving Nightmare - Stuck inside a deady game, Madpat and Natemare are fighting against some unknown opponent. Throw in a long estranged brother and an easily distracted drunken detective, how will they ever see who's really in control?

[ETMN takes place at the same time as Season One: 114 - 146]

01- 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 08 - 09 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15

My Brother's Keeper - Illinois’s adventures have taken him all across the globe, but when he goes back to find his younger brother incarcerated in Happy Trails Peniterntiary, where none of the inmates ever want to leave, could his luck finally have run out?

[MBK shoulder be read after you've read Season One: part 139 and before reading 162]

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08

#; Master list #; recommended reading #Protection Verse #Protection Verse S1 #Egos AU #Not As You Know Them

[redwineconversation]

PSG - OL Behind the Scenes

Should I put this under a read more? Probably. Will I? Nope.

Note: The interviews with the medical staff at the beginning feel a little like van de Donk's documentary. Just an interesting insight into an area that people like to give a lot of grief to.

Shingo Kitada [OL Kinesiologist]: So I've been here for five months. Half a year, you could say. Really top environment. I wasn't really expecting that, there is a lot of compassion, everyone is really humble, especially the players. They're not arrogant at all. So it's really such a pleasure to work with them.

Thibault Aubin [OL Kinesiologist / Physical Therapist]: Yeah, we've had a lot of ups and downs. But as it's been pointed out, I've been here for a few years. I think I said it to Shingo [Kitada] the day before the final - I think - the day before the Champions League final. I said to him, "you'll see. Champions League Final, they know how to do this." Everything just falls into place. Everything is better, technically, style of play, speed of play. Everything is just better. They're champions, they know how to find a higher level.

Remi Pullara [OL Physical Trainer]: A great season. I didn't experience it last season. I was in the same mindset as the rest of the staff and the group, about getting the titles back. So we put in a lot of work, a lot of effort. We accomplished two out of the three objectives. I think. I hope we're going to win against PSG on Sunday to go win the French league. So, I'm really proud of the team, the staff. We did a good season and I hope we can celebrate that in a cool manner in Saint Tropez.

Comical moment:

Thomis: "Are you going to tell them?"

Abily: "No I'm not going to tell them."

Thomis: [mildly concerned] "You're not going to tell them?"

Abily: [Deliberately turns sprinklers on and drenches Bompastor and Segui]

Abily: Turns out we do know how to use these after all.

Discussion between Thomis and Amandine Henry

Thomis: "How's the Player of the [UWCL] Match?"

Henry: "Don't start. That was a week ago, it's ancient history now."

Thomis: "Hey so can you do the same thing tomorrow? Doesn't have to be a regular thing, just tomorrow would be fine."

Henry: "You always want more, that's the problem. I just want to win, do a good game. After that, the title."

Romain Seguin [OL Physical Trainer]: We were talking about reconquering. Maybe some people thought we were too sure of ourselves. And, well, the girls did it. They went out and won this Champions League title, it was really great, because it was against Barcelona. Barcelona likes to talk a lot, but at the end of the day, this team got the job done. What an incredible first half, what a goal from Amandine [Henry]. The players were very disciplined, they stuck to their values. I have so much respect for this team.

BOMPASTOR VIDEO ANALYSIS SPEECH:

"This is the game that must allow us to be Champions as of tonight. This is the team that denied us of any title last season. So I want the element of revenge to be dominant. We have the opportunity - the calendar gives us the opportunity to win at their home the possibility of regaining our title. So our objective is three points, finish the league with an eight point lead. Finish the league with the best offense. Finish the league with the best defense. Okay? We have the opportunity tonight to confirm our positions as champions. You have incredible values. We've always talked about that. So I need you to lean on those values and go get the win tonight."

BOMPASTOR PREGAME SPEECH:

"From the beginning, we analyze every action. Everything we do is to hurt them. We start strong and we drown them [in waves of attacks]. The first [goal scoring] opportunity, we put it away. It's about us. Our talent, our strengths. We stay concentrated on every good thing we did throughout the season. The title, it's won tonight."

Other notable moments:

Bacha chanting "Paris sous nos pieds, Paris sous nos pieds" which is basically the equivalent of Paris is our bitch, Paris is our bitch. Henry kicks the table as the chant is going on in attempt to act out the chant/lyrics.

Why Damaris doesn't have her own reality show is beyond me, because in almost every group shot she is in she looks like she is re-evaluating every life choice she made that lead her to that point. I need the Dutch NT to keep up their social media game and have a camera on her at all times. Blah blah van de Donk came back from the dead, let's talk about what really matters.

The Cayman - van de Donk - Abily sequence deserve a nomination for Best Short Film at the Oscars. So much going on - "No, my hair!" from Abily; van de Donk trying to claim she is innocent; the tussling between Abily and van de Donk which resulted in Cayman getting involved; dunking Abily in the ice bath; van de Donk's expression at the end. Art in the purest sense of the term.

#all good love stories start in the rain