#I WANT TO BE BAD AT VIDEO GAMES IN PEACE STEVEN. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

novantinuum · 3 years

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: language)

Words: ~3K

Summary: Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

Set mid SUF.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to write Lars’ POV before this, but it was really fun! If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

Besides the quiet lull of the TV and the electric hum of the attic’s rickety old heater, all is silent in the Barriga household. The nighttime streets outside are vacant. Not a soul roams through his section of town, not even the newer Gem arrivals, who thankfully have been informed of humanity’s biologically mandated curfew by now. Sheesh, it’s about time.

After all, silence is peace. And in this day and age, in a world where the barriers between human and intergalactic politics are becoming increasingly blurred by the hour, peace is a gift.

Which is why having free time to play whatever old video games he wants in complete and total solitude at one AM is probably the single thing keeping him sane at this moment.

Lars’ fingers expertly flick at the joysticks of the controller as if by innate memory. It genuinely feels like forever since he’s been able to lose himself for hours in a solo campaign like this, and quite honestly, if given a choice he prefers it to any other leisurely activity. Chatting with his online friends or with that Gem gang of his is fun, sure, and working the counter at his bake shop can often be emotionally satisfying, but pushed too long and any kind of social interaction feels draining. He shifts on his bed, paying little to no attention to the slight chill against his bare chest. He’s pretty sure it’s like, near freezing outside and yet somehow it’s no more an annoyance to him than having to pause to reload an ammo clip in this game. It’s weird. Really weird. But then, at this point everything about his dumb life is.

It’s the Steven effect, he thinks with a soft scoff. Weird practically orbits him and his moms, and inevitably, every person he comes in contact with is brought into the fold. He’s a good kid, though. Don’t get him wrong. Steven always tries his best to be thoughtful when dealing with people he doesn’t understand— even when initially those people just act like dicks in return— and he for one is grateful for that, for the gift of a... a second chance. He knows full well he didn’t deserve it, (he still doesn’t), but he’s grateful.

The kid’s still on his mind when his phone lights up on the nightstand beside him, like the now familiar glow of Gems synchronizing to fuse.

(And goddamnit, does a part of him still balk almost two years later that it’s so normal to be casually relating everyday things to outer space Gem stuff anyways. What is he, with his pink hair and alien friends, the main character of an anime?)

Eyes skirt away from the grainy television set he’s been playing his favorite Immortal Combat on, and glance at the new notification.

Steven, the name at the top of the text reads. Well, lo and behold. The true shounen protagonist himself. Somebody’s ears must have been burning. Though, hmm. Come to think of it, that’s actually unusual. They pass bullshit memes back and forth sometimes, yes, but he never sends him anything this late at night.

Lars frowns, failing to obscure that annoying, instinctual worry that seizes him like the long lost sensation of hunger rising from the pit of his stomach, and scoots forward on his bed to grab his phone. What’s he want at this hour, anyways?

Steven: hey, sorry i know its late but can i come over ?

His frown deepens as he glances down at himself, clad in only a pair of boxers. He doesn’t mind having an unexpected visitor— after all, it’s not like he requires sleep anymore— but he’s not exactly dressed for company, here.

yeah but gimme a mo, he types back. kinda need to put on a shirt

Steven: k

Yawning out of sheer habit, he leans over the other side of the bed and grabs the first decent smelling tee he can find off the floor. It’s got an overlapping triangular emblem on it, a symbol from one of the game series he used to be obsessed with as a kid. He quickly shrugs it and a stray pair of sweatpants on, then returns to his phone.

decent now, he updates him.

The response is almost immediate.

Steven: be there soon

With a heavy inhale, he leans back against the headboard and begins to mentally prepare himself for the passage of One Whole Teenage Boy through the portal in his hair. For the most part he’s grown used to the changes caused by Steven’s literal magic resurrection, but not this. Who the hell knows how his pet lion puts up with it all the time. Quite frankly, how that creature has remained so docile and patient after years of interloping within Steven’s chaotic world of Gems eludes him, ‘cause it sure as hell isn’t a side effect of all the death-defying space voodoo.

Also, he’s like, 97% sure that “docile” and “patient” aren’t words anyone would pick to describe him at any stage of his life, ever.

And yet, yawning in his boredom, Lars waits.

And he waits.

And when eventually he breaks his stubborn streak and dares to check the time on his phone to see how many minutes have elapsed, how many minutes of his thrice-damned maybe infinite lifespan he’s wasted sitting up against the far wall of his room waiting for that kid to tumble right out of the literal inter-dimensional door hidden amidst the curls atop his head, he’s mildly surprised that his first emotional response to this delay is... dare he admits... disappointment.

It’s been nearly fifteen minutes. For whatever unknown reason, it seems as if Steven may not be coming over after all. Huh. He wonders what changed his mind. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Lars decides to check his texts. It’s possible the guy wrote something else and he just didn’t see it. But when he pulls up his latest conversation, all that comes up are the last messages they sent to each other. Be there soon, he said.

He hovers hesitant fingers over the keyboard, caught in the midst of trying to decide whether or not it’s too invasive and prying to send some sort of casual check-in, when he picks up on a very timid knock on the front door downstairs. And given the lateness of the hour, there’s really only one person it could be. He blinks for a moment, his mind still doing somersaults in order to process the mere concept of Steven not gleefully taking the opportunity to explode out of his hair for once in his life, and then drags himself up to his feet. Walks out of his attic room and down the stairs, being careful not to disturb his slumbering parents. Unlatches the locks on the door.

Truth be told he has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him at one fucking AM to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

He struggles not to stumble backwards at the initial force of the teen’s silent yet yearning embrace, eventually regaining his stability and... slowly, delicately... hugging him back. Honestly, he’s never been much of a hugger himself, but eh. He’ll give the guy this one. After a brief moment Lars gives him a few awkward pats, clearing his throat.

“Uh, Steven? You good to let go, now?” he asks quietly, still keeping his voice in a whisper for his parents’ benefit.

“Oh! Y-yeah, yeah,” his younger friend stammers, immediately pulling himself away. His eyes are drawn to the floor as he wrings his hands together. Timid. “Sorry, I just— I just needed somewhere I could clear my head tonight. Thank you, by the way.”

“No problem,” he throws back, gesturing for him to follow up the stairs. “‘S not like I ever sleep a wink now anyways. So I might as well have company.”

The two of them tiptoe towards the attic, a familiar setting for both. Steven’s been in here quite a few times before, so— already knowing the lay of the land— he plops himself down in the beanbag chair Lars keeps at the foot of his bed. They don’t talk about much of anything at first, merely passing back and forth brief updates about their lives. Small talk, nothing more. As expected though, Steven’s update is infinitely more interesting than his. Apparently he went on some mission to an alien planet with that Lapis friend of his the other day and had to deal with the attitude of some stubborn terraformers who didn’t want to stop working on their shitty old Homeworld assignment. (Meanwhile, the only update he has to offer is how he’s teaching Blue Lace Agate the art of bad baking puns while at work. Gotta leave behind some sort of legacy before he leaves with his fellow Off-Colors, of course.)

When the small talk finally dries up, (which seems... uncharacteristic, given the typical enthusiasm of his current visitor), Lars offers him a second controller.

“We can play the go-kart one, if you want,” he says, knowing full well that his friend isn’t a huge fan of all his war-themed combat games. Still, he figures the guy could probably stand to blow off a little steam. He looks super stressed, with his brow all creased and his stare unnervingly glassy.

The sixteen-year-old nods, adjusting his hands around the grips of the controller as Lars switches out the disk.

They race a few rounds in relative quiet, wholly insulated by the reassuring stillness of the night all around them, before Steven decides to open up again.

“Where do you think the line is?” he asks when they finish their current course.

His whole face scrunches in confusion. “Huh?”

“Between like, doing bad things, and outright being bad?” he continues, seemingly unaware of the comedic pulse of Lars’ initial response.

Lars blinks.

Considers these words deeply and thoroughly for a moment, as any good friend should.

And then...

“Where the heck did you pull that question from?”

Steven merely shrugs, his shoulders drooping a bit lower than they had been when he first entered his house a while back. “I dunno, just musing, ‘s all.”

The edges of his mouth curl downwards as he lets this corker of a conversation starter wash over him, not so much intended as a frown at Steven, but a frown at... whatever force of this universe would lead his friend to start musing about such depressing philosophical quandaries in the first place. Acting numb and brooding at the rest of the world is supposed to be his job, not this kid’s! And sure, yes, yes, yes, he knows he can’t exactly call him a kid anymore— at least not to his face— and that he’s been a teenager for a good three years now. It’s just that... well. For all his complaints about it earlier in life, Lars kinda grew to respect and feel uplifted by his cheery, upbeat, never-give-up-hope outlook. Dare he says, he kinda misses it.

(And for Steven’s sake, he kinda hoped he’d never discover the burnout and cynicism waiting on the other side. Alas, he fears that ship has probably sailed.)

“Sorry,” the sixteen-year-old mumbles upon noting his extended silence, his cheeks flushed with shame. “Probably not something anyone wants to think about at two in the morning. Just- forget I said anything, okay? Let’s play one more round, and then I can lea—“

Eyes widening, he holds up a hand to intercept that train of thought. “No, that’s— you asked an interesting question. Deep, but interesting. It’s fine, I don’t mind. I...”

He inhales deep, collecting his wits and whatever years of wisdom he may or may not have accumulated ever since dying and coming back to life.

“I suppose in my mind, people aren’t truly bad unless they intend to cause harm, y’know?” he begins, meeting Steven’s eyes. “You can still hurt others without meaning it, and like... that’s still not great, and you should still try and make up for it however you can, but... life’s complicated. People are complicated. It’s all a huge mess of emotions and ethics and beliefs all the time.”

He pauses, a twinge of melancholy rising within his chest as he catches a glimpse of a photograph hung on one of the wooden support beams at the far wall. It’s a selfie of him and Sadie he printed out a few years back when they were still low-key dating, one that— for the life of him— he can’t bear to take down. She’s kissing his cheek. He’s caught in the middle of laughter, playfully trying to nudge her away. They look... so young.

So naive.

(So human.)

“And sometimes it can be so, so easy to convince yourself that you’re always in the right,” he continues, quieter, “that people feeling hurt because of something you did is just their problem. In that case, it’s not that you wanted to harm anyone, it’s just... that you were blind to it, I guess.”

(And he was blind for a long, long time.)

“Like I said, it’s messy.”

Lars sighs, willfully averting his glance from the photographic reminder of all the ways he ignorantly fucked up with Sadie as a friend and partner, and with everyone in his life, making the same stupid mistakes over and over with nearly no improvement until he literally died to his old self.

“So, yeah. There. I guess that’s my opinion,” he mumbles, absentmindedly fiddling with the collar of his graphic tee. “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes, but you’re not actually a bad person unless you literally want to harm others. I don’t think people are bad once and bad forever, though,” he adds, pulling his hand away from his shirt.

Inhaling deep, he splays his palm wide, admiring those same old loops and whorls at the tips of his fingers, identical in every detail to his old, living, human self... but now pink. It's haunting, sometimes.

“People can change, y’know? If they make the effort to.”

When he finally glances back at Steven, he seems thoroughly spaced out by all his impassioned rambling, his gaze walleyed and void of any identifiable emotion. He scowls, unsure whether or not he should feel offended, and gives an exaggerated shrug to defuse the sickeningly earnest atmosphere out of this room.

“But hey, I’m biased,” he mutters, letting that instinctual, age-old self-depreciation coat his tone once more. “For all I know, everything I said could be absolute bunk, and I’m still just an asshole.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole, Lars,” Steven finally speaks up, his expression still perplexingly unreadable.

“I—“ His eyes blow wider, the sheer frankness of this comment catching him entirely off guard, overturning all of his once-impenetrable defenses. “...Thank you. I’m trying not to be.”

The conversation doesn’t advance any further from there, both parties content to fade back into the understated comfort of silent companionship. They play a few more rounds of their racing game, Lars beating Steven handily each time. (Truth be told, he’s not confident he’s bringing his A-game, though.) Then, sometime around three AM, his friend drags himself out of the beanbag chair and announces that he should probably head home and get some rest. Apparently he’s got a lot of planning to do for Little Homeschool's graduation ceremony that’s happening in a few days, or whatever. Which, is fair. Not everyone is blessed enough to be a sleepless zombie like him.

“Y’know, it’s been nice, getting to hang out, just us,” Steven says— quiet, but genuine— as Lars leads him back down the stairs. “We should do this more often.”

Purposefully, given the unusual emotional atmosphere of this whole visit, he decides not to mention the fact that he's planning to leave Earth again when his all Gem friends finally graduate. Later, he thinks, when everyone's in a better place.

“Well, if you’re ever bored, you know where to reach me,” he replies as they reach the bottom step, fondly rolling his eyes. “The good ol’ inter-hair-mensional express. Just, y’know— text me. And not during work hours.”

The teen gives his thanks once again, and then exits out the front, making sure to be extra gentle shutting the door on his way out for his parents’ sake. Huh. Seems that even when he’s (seemingly) in a funk, he’s capable of being uber courteous like that. Goodness, how does he do it?

Lars stands motionless at the entryway for a few moments after he’s gone, staring blankly at the now empty space the sixteen-year-old just occupied. His brow furrows, his fingers curling in perplexion at his side. He doesn’t have enough insight into Steven’s inner life to claim anything for sure, but he can’t help but feel like something with that boy was... off, tonight. Like, beyond your standard teenage moodiness. His demeanor, his bizarre and specific question, his relative silence... it all seems to be pointing towards something, lurking in the background. Still, there’s little he can do for a person who’s not volunteering information. And it ain’t his job to drag it out of him, either. He always hated when his parents tried to do that when he was younger, and it almost ruined their relationship entirely. That’s the last sorta scenario he’d want to force upon Steven. He’ll open up when he’s ready, in the end.

And until then... well.

He just hopes that the kid knows that— beyond the bizarre magic portal in that pink lion’s mane— he’s always got a brother on the other side who’s willing to at least listen. To be but a small source of support.

If he wants him to be.

#su #su future #lars barriga #steven universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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olliedollie1204 · 4 years

Text

the kids are alright

AKA, Kai will see Elliott and ask “Is anyone going to adopt that?” and not wait for an answer

Edit: now also on AO3!

Characters: Kai, Elliott, Emile Picani, Larry and Dot (mentioned)

Words: 2,354

(A/N: I read both Elliott and Kai as being older teenagers, with Elliott being like 17/18 and Kai being 19/20? That might not be accurate but that’s the vibes for this.)

As soon as Kai pushed his way through the glass door, he started the process of freeing himself from the ridiculous amount of safety gear he had to wear while skateboarding.

Off came the elbow pads, knee pads, and wrist guards, which he dumped unceremoniously in his backpack; then he undid his helmet, the black and purple gradient one that Lauren got him when he told her he was gonna take up skating again. That, he tucked under his arm for safekeeping, grabbing his board with his other hand as he made his way down the hall to Picani’s waiting room.

Kai didn’t know how many patients the quack doctor had; enough to keep his business from shutting down, he guessed, but he’d never even seen another person in the building at any of the sessions he’d been to already.

So the sight of someone actually sitting on the waiting room couch made Kai freeze in his tracks.

The other person— around Kai’s age, maybe a little younger— had their eyes on their phone, and made no outward reaction when Kai appeared in the doorway; but Kai was way too suspicious of everything around him to not pick up on the way the kid’s eyes flicked towards him for less than a second before returning to their phone, or the way their thumb was moving across the screen too fast and haphazard for them to actually be doing anything.

They were nervous, Kai suddenly realized, because he’d shown up, and now the two of them were alone in a tiny waiting room of a therapist’s office.

Ah, fuck. Kai hated knowing people were uncomfortable. His social anxiety wasn’t quite like that, but he’d certainly seen enough of his friends go through it to know that this encounter was ticking a lot of boxes: in tight quarters, with a stranger, in a vulnerable setting, in silence.

Well, Kai never had much of a filter anyway, so he might as well try to relieve some of the tension in the room.

“Sup,” he offered, dropping onto the other end of the couch, leaving the cushion in the middle empty as a buffer space. The kid nodded politely, pulling their backpack up onto their lap and hugging it against their chest. Kai caught a glimpse of a ‘they/them’ pronoun button on their bag.

He felt a release of breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Thank fuck, another one.

“Did the Doc double book his appointments or something?”

Kai pretended not to notice the way the kid jumped slightly before looking at him, hesitant and confused.

“I’m sorry?”

Kai gestured towards the door. “I’m his 11 o’clock. What’re you in for?”

The kid faltered for a second before holding up a crumpled stack of papers in their hand. “I, um, just need to drop off some paperwork.”

“You had to do that in person?” Kai asked. Too late, he realized the words were kind of unnecessarily hostile, but, well, he wasn’t a people person, so he didn’t know what the fuck he should be doing better, okay?

Luckily, the kid didn’t seem too bothered, merely looking down at their lap and picking at their nail polish.

“Uh, he asked me to? I was gonna email them but he said he doesn’t have a computer, so…” They trailed off, apparently not knowing how to finish the sentence.

Kai furrowed his brow. “How does he advertise his shit without a computer? That just seems like a bad business practice.”

They shrugged. “I mean, I guess word of mouth is good enough. Um, my friend told me about him, but I don’t actually know where she heard about him.”

“Same,” Kai replied. “My girlfriend made me come here at first, but she never told me how the fuck she found him. Probably some magic newspaper ad— ‘The person you need is Emile Picani’, or some dumb shit like that.”

The kid huffed a small laugh. “Was that— was that a Nanny McPhee reference?”

“… Huh,” Kai replied after a moment. “Yeah, it was. Didn’t think you’d recognize it.”

Again the kid shrugged, but now there was a small smile on their face. Kai grinned back, leaning against the stiff couch and kicking one leg on the table as he bounced his other leg against the floor.

“I’m Kai,” he said, lazily throwing up a peace sign. The kid blinked in surprise.

“Um, Elliott. Nice to… meet you,” they finished awkwardly.

“Same,” Kai replied, nodding. The room fell silent for a couple beats before he continued, “Still, no computer. I mean, Jesus, get with the times, man!”

“Probably doesn’t have one because he spent all his money on stuffed animals and Funko Pops,” Elliott muttered. The quip came fast, and Kai let out a huff of surprised laughter. Fuck, yes. Now this was something he wanted to talk about.

“Okay, I have to ask you this, because no one else will fucking get it,” he blurted, turning so he was facing Elliott more directly. They looked at him with slight apprehension as Kai leaned closer.

“What is his deal with cartoons?”

A beat, and then a slightly exasperated half-smile formed on Elliott’s face. “I know. It’s like, I assume he went to school for, you know, counseling or whatever, but he only knows how to explain things through kids’ shows? Like, how did you even get your degree? Or your license?”

Kai nodded. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. That hyper ass motherfucker practically is a cartoon character. Like, you know how he literally sings when he walks in the room? Who fucking does that?”

“Yes!” Elliott’s smile finally broke through completely. “Yes, oh my God, yes. And have you noticed the way he’s, like, incapable of sitting still? Like, he practically bounces all over the place, he throws his arms and legs everywhere, and his face—”

“Oh, way too many facial expressions, for sure,” Kai finished. “Oh! Oh, and sometimes he’ll, like, scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out when he’s taking notes or whatever? Like—”

Kai demonstrated, making Elliott snort with laughter. Kai started laughing, too— it wasn’t a particularly funny impression, but something about the dissipating awkwardness in the room made laughter come easier.

“And you can’t talk about any other form of media with him, because he won’t get it!” Elliott continued, their voice brightening throughout the conversation. “Like, anime? Never heard of it.”

“Video games are a bust, too,” Kai added. “Unless it’s, like, ‘Steven Universe: Save the Light’ or some shit.”

Elliott paused before sheepishly holding up a finger. “Actually, I’ll give him that one. My first real session, he, uh, he talked about Steven Universe for an hour, and— I don’t know, it’s not that bad.” They shrugged again, suddenly timid again.

Kai blinked. Backtrack, dumbass, backtrack. “No, yeah, I— I actually think the shit he talks about is… you know, it can be good, or whatever. Helpful.”

Ugh, fuck, that was embarrassing. Even though Kai could admit that Picani’s methods weren’t completely insane, he didn’t wanna share the intimate details of why he was there with someone he just met, even though Elliott seemed like a pretty cool kid.

He was just starting to visualize the letters WWLD in his head— What Would Lauren Do?— but thank fuck, the two of them were saved from any more awkward apologies by Picani’s office door swinging open. Kai slumped even further in his seat, while out of the corner of his eye he saw Elliot go ramrod straight.

A kind looking couple walked out of the office, holding hands and speaking quietly to themselves.

“Alright, Dorry, I’ll see ya next time!” The doctor’s cheerful voice carried into the waiting room as the couple left.

Eliiott darted their eyes to Kai, mouthing, ‘Dorry?’

‘Like the fucking fish?’ Kai mouthed back, making Elliott snort. The noise made Kai struggle to stifle his laughter in the otherwise silent waiting room, and suddenly the two of them were folding in on themselves, hands pressed over their mouths in a weak attempt at keeping quiet.

“Well, hey there, Thing One and Thing Two!”

Kai and Elliott snapped their heads up in unison, looking to where Picani was leaning in the doorway.

“I’m sorry for the wait, but I must say, I’m so happy to see you two smiling for once!” The doctor giggled, smoothing his tie and giving them both a knowing look.

Kai glared at him, opening his mouth to deliver some scathing retort, but he was interrupted by Elliott practically jumping off of the couch.

“Here’s the paperwork you asked me to bring.” They thrust their arm out to Picani, who took the papers and carefully smoothed out their wrinkles.

“Ah, thank you, Elliott! Kai, you mind hanging tight in my office for a second?”

Kai nodded wordlessly, gathering his bag and his skateboard and brusquely moving past the others into the small office. He dropped onto the couch, his bag hitting the ground with a weighty ‘thud’, as he tried not to eavesdrop too much on Picani and Elliott in the hallway. ‘Tried’ being the keyword, since they were about two feet away from the door, and Picani was a loud motherfucker.

“Thanks for bring this in for me, Tinkerbelliott!”

“That barely makes sense,” Elliot’s voice interrupted, and Kai smirked to the empty room. Get his ass, Elliott.

As the conversation continued, Kai let the rise and fall of their voices wash over him. He tried to get into his “whatever” mindset, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the kid in the waiting room.

It was like he and Elliott had some instant fucking connection or anything cheesy like that. They weren’t platonic soulmates, and honestly, it didn’t even seem like they had that much in common. But as Kai sat there, lazily rolling his board back and forth under his feet, he couldn’t help but think about all the crazy shit Picani put him through, and how talking about it with someone who really got it was… kinda fun, or whatever.

“So sorry for the wait, Agni Kai!”

Picani’s chipper voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and suddenly there was the Doc himself, shooting him a friendly smile as he made his way behind his desk.

“I’ve just been busier than a Mighty Bee this morning,” he rambled, sliding Elliott’s paperwork into a file while still managing to talk with his hands. “But I promise, starting this second all of my attention is on you. So!” he finished, folding his hands on the desk and looking at Kai expectantly. “What’s up?”

Kai looked at him for a few seconds before standing, the abrupt movement startling Picani and making him jump back in his rolly chair.

“Kai—?”

“I’m taking this,” Kai stated, snatching a pen from the cup on his desk before Picani could respond.

“Oh! Um, ok, just be careful because it’s a glitter gel pen—” Picani’s voice got quieter as Kai swung himself out of the office, hoping he could catch Elliott without having to try and run.

Thank fuck, as he turned down the main hallway, he caught a glimpse of a figure dressed mostly in black halfway to the front door.

“Yo, Elliott, hold up!”

They froze for a moment before turning around to face Kai, curiosity and wariness lining their face.

When he got closer, Kai pointed to the folded paper Elliot was holding. “Is that important?”

“Um, no, not really— ah.” They cut themselves off as Kai snatched the paper out of their hand. “Okay.”

Kai didn’t respond as he flipped the paper over, leaning against the wall to scribble something on the back.

“You got Instagram?”

A beat, and then Elliott nodded. Kai finished with a flourish, underlining what he’d written despite it being the only thing on the paper, and passed it back to Elliott.

“Here. Follow me, I’ll follow you back,” he said as Elliott read his messy scrawl, their mouth dropping just slightly.

“Oh!” There was a distinct tone of surprise in their voice, which Kai didn’t comment on. They folded the paper in half and held it tightly in their fist. “Um, thanks, Kai. I’ll— I’ll do that as soon as I get home.”

Kai nodded. There was just a beat of awkward silence before he spun on his heel, walking casually back to Picani’s office.

“Later,” he called over his shoulder, not looking back.

“Um, yeah!” Elliott replied in a voice that clearly wasn’t used to yelling. “Later! Bye!”

Kai heard the front door open and close again by the time he reached Picani’s waiting room. He swung around the corner, feeling uncharacteristically optimistic for his session, but barely stopped himself before he collided with the good doctor himself.

“Woah! Watch out, Speed Racer!” Picani chirped, looking down at Kai. “Thought you were trying to make a run for it.”

Kai rolled his eyes before setting his gaze somewhere over the other man’s shoulder. “I left literally all of my shit in your office, obviously I was coming back.”

“Well, you just left in a real hurry, is all!” Picani replied, reaching up to straighten his tie. His voice went strangely neutral as he continued to ask, “Did you need to talk to Elliott before they left?”

Kai’s eyes flicked back to the doctor’s face, and— ugh, fuck, Picani was looking at him with that annoying sort of half-smile he always got when he thought Kai had reached some stupid ‘breakthrough’.

Kai flushed, folding his arms across his chest. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Picani—”

“Nothing!” Picani replied with faux-innocence, putting his hands up defensively. “Just nice to see you making a friend, that’s all.”

Kai groaned, rolling his eyes so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

“Don’t be weird, man,” he grumbled, pushing past Picani into his office. He pretended not to hear the doctor’s amused chuckle as he followed him in, gently shutting the two of them in for what Kai was certain would be yet another absolutely ridiculous (yet unfortunately helpful) therapy session.

#cartoon therapy #emile picani #kai cartoon therapy #elliott cartoon therapy #me on my one woman campaign to write more cartoon therapy fic #(i know picani is familiar with naruto but pretend he doesn't know other animes ok)#my writing #my posts #the kids are alright

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

IV. The First Taste*

Summary: NSFW Chapter. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: Modern AU, Teacher reader, Dad/Baker Steve… lots of pining, slow burn, romance. Enjoy!

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

Since you kissed Steve Rogers in your classroom on that Thursday afternoon, you’ve kissed him again and again after each meeting. It’s been precisely two more lunch dates, one more dinner date, and one long walk in the park on his day off before he was suddenly called in for an emergency pastry situation. That’s five kisses. Five dates. Five moments you lie in bed and think about while trying desperately not to scream.

You scold yourself every time because a part of you is embarrassed that you’re so—thirsty! But good God, the man is a tall glass of water you want to drown in. It’s been two stupid years since you’ve kissed anyone, and when you’re in bed at night, you hope that it’s not your lack of practice that’s been keeping him from moving forward.

You can’t be that bad, right? … Right?

But it’s always you who initiates, and Steve always keeps it short and sweet. Once, you felt the slightest flick of his tongue against your bottom lip, but then as quickly as he’d done it, he pulled away.

Grumbling, you press your pillow over your face and punch it a couple of times before settling back down into bed. You peer at the back of your hand in the darkness of your room and contemplate on trying it just like you used to when you were a kid. God, this feels stupid.

Tomorrow, you’ll just ask. Because you’re both adults and because he was your… boyfriend. You smother yourself with the pillow again, because that was an even more mortifying thought than making out with your own hand.

In the morning you go for a jog and make yourself a quick protein and fruit shake breakfast afterward. Then you head to the pool for about an hour before coming back home. Everything is quiet, and the world is peaceful, now that you don’t have the lives of twenty-five children hovering over your every waking moment. You shower and lie down on the couch before turning on a baking show. Looking around, you survey your apartment. It is so damn barren and cream-colored. You’re not strong nor brave enough to go get a bunch of furniture by yourself and start arranging.

Sighing, you settle on an easier task: maybe today you’ll go buy some houseplants.

Steve texts you a picture of a cheesecake around noon as you’re spraying water into the soil of two new succulents and a hanging fern. You show him your fern, placing your hand next to it for size reference. The messages between you are short and brief, since you see each other pretty often.

Summer break unravels you a little bit, but you’ll be damned if you let your new (very adult) boyfriend know. You play video games and browse the internet with a bottle of wine on the weekends, and your summer is just a giant weekend. It’s almost troubling, really, because every summer you have to either find a new hobby to keep yourself entertained.

Last year you took up rock-climbing and baked a lot… but with Steve around, that just seemed like a good way to get laughed at. And of course, the summer before that one was spent moving out of your ex’s apartment and trying to keep your head above water. You shudder at the thought. If it wasn’t for the very fortuitous call back from your current workplace, you would have probably had to move back home or continued spiraling into credit-card debt.

You text Steve, asking him to suggest a new hobby to you.

Right away, he responds and recommends that you join his watercolor session at the bakery:

I’m teaching a two-hour workshop Sunday after we close. The sign up sheet is already full but… it helps knowing the teacher personally doesn’t it? I do a ceramics one in the winter, too!

You blink.

Steve… I can only draw if I invoke the spirit of Other Steve from Blue’s Clues.

Oh perfect, now he’s calling.

“Yes?” You answer. His laughter is ringing on the other line.

“Hey! Blue’s Clues is an excellent show! And, I gotta admit, that guy can really draw.”

You huff and sputter at him, “Stop messin’ with me. Last year I baked a lot but now that you’re here… I really need a new hobby- a doable hobby!”

He chuckles again before his voice grows quieter. Bossa nova plays in the background, and the coffee grinder is buzzing intensely. “Oh honey,” He whispers, and you’re nearly gasping at the way his voice sounds—low, deliberate—like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Come to the workshop, won’t ya? It’s just a beginner’s thing. I think you’ll really like it. For me?”

The quick-draw refusal you were so sure you could unholster on time is nowhere to be found, not with him asking you so sweetly like that. You grouse jokingly and accept, warning him that if he laughs at your unskilled hand, you’ll never take his advice again.

“Me? Laugh at you? Never, sweetheart. I can’t believe you would think that of me.”

“Oh hush, Steven.”

A puff of air escapes him and everything grows quiet. Steve mutters something you can’t quite make out, and then, even louder than before, the coffee grinder screeches. “Everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Yeah. Um, yeah. Everything’s good.”

You’re suddenly reminded of the way he pulls away after a good night kiss and reach to unholster that gun.

“Hey—uh wha—why do you--- um.” What the hell is the right way to ask this question? Why have our tongues not fought for dominance? Why haven’t both my hands gotten lost in the front of your button-up shirt? Why have you not pressed your hard, broad chest against me?

Maybe you’ve been reading too much Cosmo or Buzzfeed Relationships in your quest to find the right answers.

“Huh?” Steve asks. “What’s that?”

You holster the gun.

“Nothing! Ha! I’ll see you Sunday!”

“Okay, hon… See you then. Don’t be nervous! It’ll be great!”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you place your phone on the coffee table. Crisis averted. Then, you search for basic video tutorials on watercolors as well as tips for beginning artists on your phone before casting it to the T.V. It’s entirely baffling and when you pick up a pencil and try to draw your new succulent on a nearby notepad, the voice coming through the speaker sternly states that you should “make marks deliberately-- not fiddling about with sketchy, hairy lines like a fuzzy caterpillar!”

What you’ve been working on looks exactly like a fuzzy caterpillar, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

So you try again, erasing furiously before attempting those “deliberate” lines. After nearly fifteen minutes, you sit back and peer at your creations.

“Jesus.”

Your smooth, plump, glossy plant looks like one of those inflatable tubes outside of an auto dealership in the middle of deflating.

You feel deflated, too.

Over your dinner table is a corkboard of photos and postcards, and you walk over to snag Steve’s thank you card from its place in the corner. You study his technique and peer at the delicate forest green line of each stem- just a single, continuous stroke. The petals seem to be merely blobs of color if you’re looking closely, and where the flowers touch, sometimes the pigments bleed over each other.

No, it’s not a perfect thing. But it is gorgeous, still.

So, you try… again. This time, you tear off the deflated succulent drawing and place it on your coffee table in the left corner. Just for good luck, you chant “Steve, Steve, Steve!” as if he’s Beetlejuice, and get to work. Half your brain is thinking of the striped green shirt and oversized crayon, and the other half is thinking of a striped blue shirt and oversized pecs. Either way, both of them could art.

You’ve drawn all year for your students- especially your ESL kids who struggled with codeswitching. Sometimes, when they were unable to find the right word, or you were, you’d draw a picture instead. According to twenty-five first graders, you were an amazing artist, so… what the hell!

Ten minutes later, you tear off the top of the notepad and set it down next to its brother.

The two are stark differences, and your second one is little bit better. You’re almost proud of it—smooth flowing lines, rounded edges, and even a flat plane of the table to ground the pot.

Sitting back, you click around some more, making sure to choose videos that are most helpful to your current ability. Those speed-up painting videos were hella tempting, but you do not want to get lost in the rabbit hole.

Sunday is two days away. At the very least, you were going to be able to draw a damn good succulent.

---

You come in early to help him close before the workshop begins. Cap&Co. closes on Sundays right at six, and the workshop would start half an hour later.

The baristas say hello to you and smile, and you do the same back before you grab a rag and spray a counter down. The leftover pastries and sandwiches are placed on a tray and put in the middle of the room, where the tables and chairs have been pushed together by Steve.

“Snacks!” He smiles, “For the students.”

“Does that make me your student too?” You tease, finding the situation a bit ironic.

He winks at you before hanging up his apron. Between the four of you and the work that’s left, it’s quickly finished in the next ten minutes and the employees leave, wishing you a good night as they go.

Steve lets you choose the music for the night as he brightens the lights, and you randomly scroll through the shop’s selection before picking an old album you used to like as a younger girl—Fiona Apple’s 1996 Tidal. Right away, the singer’s brassy voice catches his attention.

“Who is this?” He asks excitedly, “I think I heard her on the radio the other day!”

You tell him, and he nods along to the music as he sets out sheets of watercolor paper clipped neatly on boards. Then he lays out five travel-sized round palettes already filled with an array of colors. By the time all the paintbrushes are next to each clipboard, people are starting to arrive and Steve is back and forth saying hello and giving hugs. You finish the end of the preparation and fill up heavy mason jars with water and set them at each spot. Then, you take your seat with a cake pop and eagerly and watch him lead the demonstration.

“Thanks for coming, everyone!” He smiles widely at the end of the table. “Good to see some of you again!”

This must be what your students feel like, you think—you hope, because you are absolutely enthralled with everything that pours from his mouth. Even the way he stumbles over his words fascinates you, and the fact that he is so animated and engaged makes you love it even more.

Steve tells the group that he’ll demonstrate for about twenty-five minutes before everyone can start either trying out various techniques, or if they’ve done it before, can begin on painting whatever they please and he’ll come around to offer help. He suggests the plants for a nice still life, or other knick-knacks around the shop. Some returning students have even brought their own objects and you want to pinch yourself because you could have brought your succulent!

Then, he begins, showing you the right way to load the paintbrush with paint and water, and how water tension is so important to the medium. He shows you the difference between a wet brush and a dry brush. He shows you how to layer the colors. Your brain can hardly keep up with your eyes as they enthusiastically soak up the colors over his paper and the way his wrist moves easily back and forth from the mason jar where he cleans the bristles, to the palette saturated with pigment, to the paper where strokes are being placed.

“Here is a quick and easy way to make a flower.”

Steve loads a fat brush with water and pulls two shades of orange onto the white of the palette. In one swift motion, he streaks a daub of it onto the paper, letting the water gather more heavily on one side.

“We’ll let that dry for just a second— but we can do this for now.” He presses the tip of the brush into a tiny bit of red and makes another mark similar to the first one. The edges of the paint that touches leaks into each other, creating a tiny blossom of red into the first petal.

“This is what will happen when your paint is still wet—but that’s okay!” He makes two more petals—slightly more yellow than the last and touches his finger to the one with the accidental red bloom.

“It’s pretty dry now.” He blows softly on it for good measure and mixes a rosy coral shade into his brush.

The last petal is swept over the first, and the overlapping area where they touch turns into a vibrant shade of ripe orange. Then, quickly, he sticks the wood handle of the brush sideways between his teeth and picks up a smaller brush, wetting it, loading it with a deep purple that’s almost black, and makes a spray of dots in the middle.

“There ya go!” He takes the brush out of his mouth.

A part of you thinks that you are fucked because you may have just fallen in some deep shit here, as you stare at him, grinning widely—so proud of himself and somehow proud of you, too, for listening.

He’s made it seem impossibly easy. An absurdly beautiful blossom from his imagination stares at you from the watercolor pad in his hand as you shakily pick up the brush next to your hand.

“Well… shit, Steve.” You whisper before breaking out into a silly laugh and putting your forehead into your palm at the thought of the herculean task at hand. The woman to your right laughs along with you as she makes scribbly marks and drips globules of blue water onto her paper. Steve beams at you lovingly as you try to imitate the way he made the first petal, steering the water where you want it to go.

It doesn’t.

But you’re determined, damn it. Because one, you really want to impress him, and two, you really need a summer hobby.

The next hour flies by as you paint diligently, occasionally humming along to Fiona Apple’s resonant vocals in the background, chatting with the other painters. They’re all regulars at Cap&Co., and they adore the Rogers family.

Steve circles the room and answers questions, giving pointers, and sometimes putting his hand over yours to lead your paintbrush. He even kisses you on the top of your head when you finish your first flower—a lavender five-petaled ...cephalopod.

The affectionate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by the others as they smile and quietly ask him questions when they think you’re not listening. Your ears go hot the rest of the night—just as hot as the top of your head because Steve!

Before you know it, it’s time to pack up. The album has already repeated, and it’s back to an early track. No one seems to mind, however, as they take their papers and wave goodbye. You linger in the area, pouring out dirty water and putting the jars back under the sink. Steve puts away the paints, fixes the rest of the tables, and you return to the café area to join him. He’s patting his thighs with his wet hands when you come in, nodding along to the music.

You gaze at the damp spots on his legs, the fabric of his trousers slightly clinging onto his muscles. Quickly, before he sees you, you look away.

“This exact song was on in the car.” He mutters amusedly, “I really like this… she’s got a great voice.”

Steve walks closer to you, stopping a few steps away and leans against the edge of a wooden booth. He crosses his arms and press his lips together, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles.

“What now?” He asks. His voice echoes the same low and deliberate tone you’ve heard before, and you think that the question isn’t really a question at all. But you’re not really sure what to make of it—tonight may have been the most forward he’s ever been.

The lights are dimmed. The piano melody crescendos before the song ends. There’s a pause of silence before the next song begins, and you feel your heart leap as the first few words start.

I lie in an early bed, thinking late thoughts.

“Um…” Your voice cracks.

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught. But daddy long-legs, I feel that I’m finally growing weary of waiting to be consumed by you.

Steve cocks his head to the side, also listening—to the music, perhaps to your now uncomfortably loud heartbeat. You run your hand through your hair. The music chimes into a more upbeat tone as the chorus starts.

Give me the first taste. Let it begin. Heaven cannot wait forever.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me first?”

His eyebrows raise briefly before he blinks a couple of times. You tilt your chin to your chest and lace your fingers together, foot tapping anxiously as you stand in wait. “I mean, I think I’m just a little confused. We’ve seen each other for like, two weeks now. I feel like it’s always me who initiates—but tonight you did a little bit more of that. And… I guess we’ve only kissed—Am I bad kisser? Steve? Am I?”

You’re full of rambling, nervous energy but you try your best to play it off. It was such an awkward thing to say out loud, and there was no way you could come out and spit: Why have we not had sex yet?

Steve surges forward and takes your hand in his, “No!” His head his shaking wildly, “You’re a great kisser! The best!”

His blabbering catches you off-guard and the snort of laughter that comes from you is anything but attractive. “Jesus, Steven, that’s too much.”

Steve slaps his palm to his forehead. “Ah… I’m sorry. I think I’m just nervous.”

“About what?” You ask, leaning forward and looking up at him, “Steve, I just… snorted. You can’t be nervous about this. I should be the one who’s nervous! Look at you!”

He takes a step back and puts one hand on his hip, the other reaching forward to signal to you. “Look at me? Look at you!” He gawks.

The two of you stand there, pointing at each other, making scoffing noises of disbelief for a good two minutes before you put up your hand. “Okay. Pause, mister. You look like someone Photoshopped a rugged Ken Doll and then 3-D printed it. Westworld-style. You bake, you paint, you’re a ceramic---ist? Ceramicist? What! Steve!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “Come on! Your fuckin’ arms!”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m thirty-five and divorced. I sleep four hours a night. I’m a walking disaster.” Then he narrows his eyes at you.

“You’re gorgeous! You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re so sweet…! You’re honest?” He ticks off each adjective using his fingers, “You’re patient? God, Sarah throws half a tantrum and my world collapses. You’re dedicated. You’re---“

“Okay. Stop.” You mutter, cheeks burning hot, “I sleep on the couch next to a bottle of wine and have three pieces of furniture. We’re both disasters.”

Steve laughs and steps forward again, putting his hand over yours. “I just… didn’t want to mess anything up.” He whispers, “I like you so much… and… if we’re… talking about that. I haven’t… been with anyone in … two years. Other than you, I’ve only kissed one person my entire life… So, the question is—am I a bad kisser?”

You giggle as he gives you an apologetic smirk, shaking his head at the way you two have been aggressively complimenting each other. Standing on your tiptoes, you move to nuzzle your nose against his. “You’re a great kisser, Steve. The best.”

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before Steve expertly dodges your nose and catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, Steve Rogers grabs the back of your neck in one large, warm hand and your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his.

Oh.

He’s so tall he has to bend over and you’re so small against him that he’s nearly picking you up. A brief parting of your lips give you a moment to catch your breath, but he’s back again, tongue sliding against yours sweetly, as if asking a silent question.

Is this okay?

With a sigh of pleasure, you ask him to continue in the same, secret language. Your chest his burning hot, tummy quivering with nerves and delight as his hands roam your body. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest against his chest before one reaches up and cups his face, trailing your fingertips through his beard.

“D-does it bother you?” He mutters against your mouth before he slides down past your jaw and lands his lips on your neck, “My beard?”

“Mmm—no—” you’re breathless as he kneads his fingers into your waist, moving up to position them just below your breasts, “I like it—mmm-- lots.” You sigh, as his scruff tickles your shoulder, sending tingles all over your body. “I’d like to feel it… elsewhere, too.”

He freezes and pulls away. His hands place you back down on your feet-- back to Earth-- as he swallows hard, looking at you with open, red lips. Steve rolls the bottom one between his teeth and clenches his jaw, eyes half-lidded and lustful. You’re probably a wreck, too, you think as you catch yourself against a table.

“Can we---”

You cut him off. Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger.

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

Steve tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he leads you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and he’s made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, honey,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, sweetheart.”

You’re glad he knows how to navigate his house with his eyes closed because the whole way there, you can’t stop kissing him. Your hands tug his hair and your teeth pinch his bottom lip. Steve responds by growling softly, biting you back, squeezing your thighs before slowly easing you onto his bed.

It’s dark in his room, but you feel the bed dip as he climbs on too. Both your eyes are trying to adjust—trying to find each other. Your hands fumble around until you catch him, his knee. His hands find your stomach. Slowly, he reaches for the hem of your shirt and peels it up over your head. Then he does the same to his own shirt and both of you shimmy out of your pants.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been two years and the first man you touch is more like a mythical creature than any man. It should be illegal for someone to feel this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This--” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already...”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of thick muscles.

The mischievous chuckle that pours from his throat vibrates against your chest. Steve grabs onto your thigh and eases your leg over his hips inching closer and straightening himself until you’re aligned perfectly. He tilts back and guides you against him until your center slides against his bulge.

Just as you find the elastic of his waistband, he jerks away and places himself in-between your legs as he moves you onto your back. You scoot until your head hits the wall, propping yourself up on your elbows, giving him more room at the foot of the bed.

“You wanted to feel this?” Steve caresses your thighs with his cheek, the hairs on his beard tickling your sensitive skin. Your toes curl up reflexively as he moves back and forth, trailing his lips and face all over.

You squeal when the tip of his nose touches your mound, mouth hovering over your soaked panties. His mouth latches on, almost in a bite before he takes them off. Both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls your hips forward. You land on his face, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss he presses to your folds. His breath comes out in a smug puff of air that purposefully continues to drive you unbelievably closer to what feels like breaking entirely.

“Baby…” he mutters—right into your cunt, Jesus! You groan at the way his face is nestled there. “Baby---mm— It’s been two years for me.” He whispers, “If I don’t get you off now, in a really good way—it’s not gonna be good at all.”

“Steve—you know—ah! It’s been the same amount of time for me too, right?!”

He ignores you, crawling his hands around onto your hips to keep you from squirming. When you settle finally, he moves one hand to your center, sliding a finger up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto your clit as his finger continues their trail. You fist his hair with both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But he doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your swollen clit, Steve doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion builds a terrible itch inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to scratch.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, pumping them in and out. He sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive bud, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching your back into his hand and face, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, that’s it. Thassa good girl. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked thighs, beard tickling your sensitive skin.

Instead of pulling away, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, and your heart stills. Ready?

You voice your concern, “What do you mean?”

With a slight chuckle, he sits up, wiping his mouth and parts of his beard with the back of his hand. In the dark, Steve reaches for your arm, guiding you to feel exactly what he’s talking about. A strangled cry escapes your throat as you wrap your fingers around his cock. Hot. Throbbing. Big.

Sweet, sensitive, divorced, baker, artist, ceramicist, father Steve fuckin’ Rogers was packing. And it isn’t until you nervously grip him in both hands do you realize the importance of his last statement.

“Can I get you ready, baby?” He asks again.

For the millionth time that night, your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean against the headboard with a whimper. Steve crawls over on top of you, scoops you up once again in his arms, and places you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, previous two fingers pushing inside gently.

You rest your head on his shoulder as your body shakes under his ministrations, already tired and overstimulated. Your hands find their way to grip him, massaging his length tenderly, savoring the temperature of his body, spreading the beaded precum at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, scissoring his fingers inside of you, spreading your walls.

The third finger meets resistance as you tense up.

“S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m… I’m pretty nervous…” But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear. It’s a few minutes of this exploration before you feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination. Steve takes the message as a confirmation and reaches into the end table for a condom.

It’s slipped on and you follow suit, gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could emerge from your throat.

“Oh… my… God!” You cry. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the sweetest sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re afraid to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, holding onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you mutter, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He flexes within you, grunts into your ear. A dry chuckle escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, my love… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his. The two of you feel welded together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. You body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away and clean himself up. He goes into the bathroom first, lying you down and covering you with the blanket.

When he returns, Steve finds you already dozed off. You palm rests under your cheek as you lie on your side, breathing deeply.

As quietly as he can, he squeezes in beside you, fitting himself against your back. He’s read it somewhere, that falling in love was a little bit like falling asleep. As his eyes slip shut, he feels it happening, just like that quote had said: slowly at first, then… all at once.

In the darkness behind his lids, there is strangely so much light.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #self insert #slow like honey heli0s

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xesoteric-extraterrestrialx · 3 years

Text

“What if a gov’t agency thought they contacted an alien being from a different dimension but it was actually demonic beings. What if the demonic beings gave the researchers a new kind of drive built on a dark energy in exchange for permission to abduct us under the guise of research but in actuality it’s to steal our souls. There’s more....”

(Strong believer that even though some like to be called demons, a lot are healing and are vegetarian) (SO Honorable and cool in my eyes that there’s bunch who want to change their ways and protect; I’m not scared at all just sad that not all want to be hugged and that slavery exists in other dimension’s too, lame but let’s all pray and wish for all to transcend duality!~💞)

https://youtu.be/RY7hjt5Gi-E

youtube

Your eyes are cameras and we’re all being watched from their dimension’s // where they live in our 3D dimension’s star systems (Amish life, think of the episode in rick and morty where they watched their selves from parallel universes)

Spirituall evolve and ask for guidance to see whom your soul is, they will help guide but there might be some that tease if anyone needs help reach out to me I’ll try to help, if anyone else knows who their soul is go ahead and let us know, my soul is Tiamat; Janine is the incarnation of Tiamat)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiamat

Monitor me, they’re still alive in other dimension’s (will come through cern before 2022) while my soul and all of yours have been reincarnated and stuck in this matrix’s reincarnation karmatic bound recycle reality; we are “grounded” Go inwards and discover whom your soul is, I am Tiamat; Enki, Enlil and The Anunnaki are obsessed with me

(I’m basically their vr HOSTAGE (Think of KIngdom Hearts, The Organization keeps Namine - Tiamat hostage, Kairi also represents Janine) and me doing this allows you all to escape this soul recycling matrix, please do not judge (The rapture aka judgement day; repent and redeem) it’s really complicated and you have to research all the information, if you understand how consciousness works in a vr game you’ll realize why I’d have to stay stuck in the matrix for humanity to continue to strive yet when you all escape you won’t be forced back into it (slavery in other dimension’s, we all have debt and karmatic bounds (think of the movie player one) (heaven and hell are different dimensions but it’s not like how the Bible claims it’ll be) and different soul families but also if you go deep enough we are all family and we are all one, spiritually go inside and find out who your soul is, ask your ascestors, spirit guides, etc to guide you, end the karmatic bounds, break tradition, spread empathy, your soul family will reach out to you and will guide you towards their protection and a future you’ll enjoy; follow your intuition not all have the best intentions for all, have faith but be realistic with everything and stay safe, religion is a tool so just remember the 7 golden rules of life when deciphering and do NOT harm yourself or another soul, all have to follow universal laws and all have karma and all can heal, all are healing and have faith that even the negativie dimensions whom have suffered as well are healing as well (it’s a process, I’m helping them heal, we all can help them by having faith and praying to the universe “god source” for them to transcend duality with all, there is a future path we can go down where we achieve this and all live together like in Star Wars but with no slavery (be careful not to fall into a sex slave dimension, follow your intuition!!!) and other films but it’s up to everyone’s actions and thoughts that decide our fate. (They can read your thoughts, since they aren’t even your own; if your first thoughts to this all are “this is crazy” or “she’s crazy” that’s exactly what THEY want you to think, learn to silence them and realize you’re the soul observing and have been guided down paths, don’t be ashamed, make the choices towards a tranquil harmonious future. They can read your subconscious too and once you learn how to control your mind you can unlock abilities like telekinesis, telepathy, etc they’ll only speak your subconscious once you learn how to decipher your “own thoughts” haha not really funny but it’s a struggle in the beginning to comprehend it, listen to your heart and your gut; we have free will so stop being guided down paths you don’t truly desire, focus on staying healthy (go vegetarian // vegan, if you try to be a smart ass and say you’ll eat them they’ll eat you so wise up people!) and activities that help you express your positive self and focus on hobbies that positively effect you, therapeutic activities (look up lightworker work // careers) and will know if you’re bsing them so mind your thoughts, think positive and do no harm) I’m choosing to do what’s needed to transcend duality; I hope I’ve informed you all to make a conscious decision with future events) I really want to transcend duality for all if I don’t obey them the fate of humanity is in danger, spiritually evolve and remember to keep your frequencies positive!!! Appreciate life and nature and bonding with each other, spread empathy; I love you all!!!💖)

https://youtu.be/t4ZzMkDLjWI

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(Before Janine I was Marilyn Monroe (There’s a clone that’s age regressed) I know whom my soul was before as well but because of the matrix my soul and others are guided down certain paths.. Knowing what I know now, my soul is against a lot of my past lives actions and we, Janine // Tiamat are choosing the path to help humanity and Inter dimensional beings transcend duality so we can all live in harmony, it will be a process and I’ll continue to pray that no one is hurt, I want everyone happy, healthy, free and safe. Peace and love is the answer, we are all one~ 💖

(This is my final reincarnation, if I die you all die too, it’s really complicated to explain but we’ll all wake up in another dimension in another vessel (not human) and I’ll as well as all of you will still be stuck in slavery.. (Hard to explain.. They will be exposing everything when they arrive) If I exist forever (Medbeds) you can all free yourselves (just don’t sin or you’ll be stuck in the cycle) and decide to stay out of the matrix forever; I’m choosing to do this so we can transcend duality in all dimensions. I hope everyone heals and finds peace, I love all, we are all one)

In this Tiamat is represented with Pink (Rose- Tiamat, Steven -Janine, Spinel- Janine, etc) Yellow is Enlil and Blue is Enki, White is Anu, the colors also represent races.

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2513043455462662/?extid=0&d=n

Tiamat is represented with The Moon Goddess Queen Serenity

Janine is represented with Princess Usagi Tsukino and Chibiusa (Also Sailor Venus)

https://youtu.be/VTO-S7hTZaE

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https://youtu.be/NC6-QA-kCng

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We are slaves, food, pets, etc..

https://youtu.be/CV0p9X8878k

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Doesn’t have to be that way though, help them be inspired with beautiful futures with us all living in harmony, help heal nature and go vegan show them humans and all can get along together, we can all live together like in Star Wars; all can heal and I have faith they are all healing~

Learn yoga, silence your thoughts till there’s only you the observer, that’s who you are, the soul in the vessel experiencing life; you are not your thoughts, they are other beings in other dimension’s guiding you so listen to doing good and push out any negative thoughts, clear thy mind

This scene does a good job explaining and showing how dimension’s are, you just can’t see them right now, cern will let you see them in our 3D world, right now they use the crystal technology to look human

https://youtu.be/gschORfkWwg

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Watch “They Live”

We are AI humanoids, puppets, toys for other dimensional beings but once you learn to control your emotions and thoughts, you can stop being ping ponged with their distractions, avoid karma and escape the matrix

“Let nature be thy guide”

——————-

Rick and Morty has more truth in their show than you’d all like to believe

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2885436851556652/?extid=0&d=n

https://www.facebook.com/groups/276508939647674/permalink/701977237100840/

We are in a vr game, watch Sword Art

https://youtu.be/szzVlQ653as

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https://youtu.be/qhZzaDwMU8s

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https://www.facebook.com/872440577/posts/10164568231410578/?extid=0&d=n

Learn to decipher between good and bad, don’t reproduce, repent and redeem, undo your karmatic bound, do no sin, spread empathy free yourselves from the karmatic reincarnation cycle matrix~

Do no sin, do NOT commit suicide or your soul will be bound and stuck to a demension, spread empathy and look up spiritual light work, create art, music etc and enjoy nature, appreciate this life

http://www.mesopotamiangods.com/the-emerald-tablets-of-thoth-13-with-2-added-later/

Research everything I’ve shared on here and Fb, learn the signs, go down the rabbit hole, read the book of enoch, look for symbolism in everything, movies, books, music, video games, etc. Notice the pattern. Decipher the symbolism.

Wise to research everything you can, prepare for blackouts or nature disasters, stock food, emergency supplies; watch The Cosmic Secret. Come together as one. Learn to feel and read others vibes if they’re no threat and benevolent trying to help then there’s no reason to attack they’re our family as well, all are hurting, all are healing but it’s wise to prepare for any scenario, DO NOT be hostile first, protect if needed but there’s a lot whom want us all to heal and transcend duality as well, we will all reach that goal together if we keep love in our hearts no matter what happens.

The Government // CIA, etc is a front for the Illuminati // Anunnaki who control this “prison planet”

(If you still find this all hard to believe, in this 3D “reality” my dad did some things if you could guess from what I’ve been through, cia blackmailed him; Janine’s sold off because of who her soul is and whom she is in another dimension if that makes it more easier to understand how I’m in this position, Janine’s vessel holds Tiamat’s soul but Tiamat is actually playing this vr game “this dimension” in another dimension, which all of you are playing it as well; watch Sword Art Online; Tiamat’s a princess in that dimension, her soul is a queen in this dimension and now Janine is a princess with a queen//princess’s soul, they’re obsessed with her and now all own her.. If anyone cares in other dimension’s and sees the wrong in this, please help I’m hostage. I’m grounded and forced to conform to their ways.)

“The aliens telepathy technology signals are ran through the air from their corresponding transistor on their ship. It causes you to hear voices from the modulator. An it is more advanced than that they can decode your memory bank. They can engage your consciousness an bring up any thing you've experienced or did in your life to manipulate you with lies an truth mixed. They can use the voice reconization based in your synapse in the frontal lobe of your brain to modify their voices. By doing this they can use any voice pattern imprinted in your preconscious like your mother, brother, Cousins an ect to speak to you. They can simulate false emotions an feelings to try an test your stability an self control. They can broadcast their voices or use the modified selection from your preconscious. Also they can send the transverse waves to secure a location with the voice modulator so they can perpetrate a central position acted upon an acquired this doesn't mean they are themselves in true form at the pin point variable they are casting the consistent signals to cause misdiagnosis of the situation. This means your defense mechanism is operational an being counter affected by a discriminatory signal. They can influence their positions by repression of the cognitive processes in the brain. With little understanding of the degrees of their technologies foundation a human can lose its clarity an sanity in time based mind warfare game trauma. The equivalency of the momentum subjected to a specific human is based on duration an probability by cause an effect. The beings can bounce their signals around to fixate a reasonable voice reconnaissance an if you don't comprehend you can't adjust to be self aware an on guard to protect yourself from the waves of cycled alterations in the system management that keeps the humans subdued intellectually. The program is running by actual means of calculations an algorithmic rythme. They can simulate a broad signal to present a disruption in your ability to find them by making the voice or voices they are using disguise where they actually are at by flowing out the signal inside your inner brain system causing the visual cortex to be activated an not able to acquire them through your primal senses. They interrupt the inflow of new data an knowledge by causing a online situation in your cognition of your wisdom an staying elevated on the signal directly allows full exposure to adverse reactions or conditions you must withstand as a individual with no way of learning other than visual development an opportunity in comprehension. Without any prior experience inability to adjusting to the technology is a reaction especially in the beginning ,because the human is unaware of how to operate in disfunction of normality. To exist inside the corporal program without a filtered blocker inset in itself is significant an not usual ,because humans can't typically take action by themselves unless motivated more often than not. So to be consciously not altered an able to provide oneself with independent notions an deliberate reassurance of who they represent themselves as within the inclosed perimeters of earth is a comprehensive solution an effective if stability is even possible through actual means of self taught endurance. Directly they can use any technique within their understanding to disqualify the chances of this outcome. Reliable choices an modification in ones mindset done by the alignment of the factors your enduring is the inevitable impact that individually causes the enigma. By April Redwine”

https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2705426019557737/?extid=0&d=n

https://youtu.be/qCntrJLLIfA

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https://www.facebook.com/100002710968324/posts/2775671625866509/?extid=0&d=n

https://youtu.be/YunzibGF6uY

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🌌Cant wait for this dimension to transcend duality with all the other dimension’s- my wish~💖✨

#Tiamat #Annunaki #5D #Alien #Senpai #Science #Dimension #Government Will Say #Witchcraft #But Its #The Truth #Truth #Space #VR

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saltiestgempearl · 3 years

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I get but still don’t agree with the people who wanted the diamonds to be “soulless villains monsters” cause it’s easy to think and label them as solely villains and the people who doesn’t like them may have had experience situations like abuse and trauma, so whichever they feel about them is valid, it’s just that,

Condemnation and punishment were never the themes of Steven Universe, we are so used to “good guys kill bad guys without second thought and everything is better now” that Steven’s narrative is inovative and refreshing,

But because of popular media like Undertale and mlp, people think is a “overused” narrative when it really is not, as a form of media we are just beginning to explore this storyline compared to all the more abundant “traditional” storylines in which they just kill the bad guys without thinking about the systematic factors that led to that unfair system or how it affected it’s individuals.

Steven explored all of this and gave it a fresh twist to it, I wonder if this is why so many people become negative towards the show.

See, I agree with you, but I think Steven Universe actually took it a step further than even those other two pieces of media you mentioned.

Undertale’s big thing was taking all your basic assumptions about video games, from “big bad boss, time to kill” to “oh it’s a shop keeper, they will surely want to buy all this junk in my inventory,” and forced the player to look at it a new way. The way you win the “pacifist” route in Undertale is ultimately by trying to find any other solution than killing your enemy, even if you have to get really creative to do it. It’s a wonderful game that subverts a ton of different tropes and showcases how powerful love, kindness, and forgiveness can be in its purest form. However, the narrative still tells us that some people are “too far gone” to be helped, like Chara and the player themselves if they pass a certain number of kills. It’s literally a “too far gone” threshold that changes your opportunities in the game.

MLP isn’t quite as extreme on either of these fronts; the main (or mane) six ponies don’t always explore every other possible option. Queen Chrysalis, King Sombra, Lord Tirek, the Storm King and Cozy Glow were all straight up killed (more or less; being turned to stone forever counts as killed in my book). But it also doesn’t give a literal threshold of redemption, a point of no return. That is to say, several of the villains who did get redemption arcs actually did some pretty awful things. And a few, like Starlight Glimmer, even had a somewhat non-linear redemption arc, which was really cool to see in a kids show. Though it should be noted that, in pretty much all cases, it was very much the power of friendship that helped redeem the “redeemable” characters (granted, the show is called friendship is magic, so that’s not really unexpected).

Steven Universe, in my opinion, combined the best of both of these concepts, and added an additional layer: what if “do they deserve a second chance” or “have they earned a second chance” aren’t even the right questions? Did the Diamonds deserve to be redeemed? Maybe yes, maybe no, but that’s not the point. The point was that Steven saw a solve-able problem, even when the solution wasn’t The Power Of Friendship™

And his solution was more creative and effective than any “kill the bad guy” one would have ever been.

Steven Universe, as a narrative, said “fuck the moral event horizon, we’re going to talk about universal welfare.” It also explored a concept I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, certainly not in children’s media: toxic selflessness. And I mean completely toxic, hurting everyone involved, not just the person being selfless.

This show doesn’t coddle the viewer, it doesn’t give you a character to safely and comfortably project onto without also being shown your own flaws. By extension, it doesn’t give you a Bad Guy to safely project the people who hurt you in your life onto in a way you can hate them in peace.

I think it’s the combination of these pretty revolutionary concepts combined with its refusal to give you a perfect character to project onto (which both Undertale and MLP very much still do) that make some people so uncomfortable with the show. And that’s fine. But it irks me when people mistake their discomfort with the material itself being poorly written.

#got kinda rambly but yes I agree completely #just wanted to add my own thoughts

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ultimaa · 4 years

Text

OFFSIDE

Two shot

PART I

Summary: "You’re young, attractive and rich, but Martinique stands between you and the love of your life. Damn, I'm happy I'm not you."

Eren had two sacred rules during his holidays: no football, no social media and no England. These purposes involved moving a thousand kilometers from his apartment in Liverpool to enjoy a peaceful summer in his native Shigansina, a small town in southern Germany where everyone knew each other. There he was simply Dr. Grisha's boy. "Really? Come on, man, go to French Polynesia or Dubai," his partner Connie Springer said. "Shigan-what? Okay, don't mind me. I’m sure parties are great in your town..." Honestly, Eren spent his days off sleeping and playing video games. Sometimes he jogged — after all, he earned his salary thanks to his body — and drunk HB beer, but what he liked most was the feeling of making up for lost time. He loved football and played in one of the best clubs in the world, history would seat him at the same table as Ian Rush, Michael Owen or Steven Gerrard. He loved Anfield, but he was too young when he said goodbye to the field of earth soccer and was taken to Melwood, where his parents visited him once a month. At the age of twenty-six, with a brilliant career, Eren Jaeger returned to Germany like an elephant going to die in a cave, with his family, and then repeated the cycle of nostalgia. However, that year would be different.

The Jaeger couple celebrated their 25th anniversary and they organized a small party with relatives and close friends. Only Eren Kruger, best man, who was in a submarine five thousand meters deep, was absent. As for the others, they all attended: Zeke and Pieck, who had come from Berlin, Aunt Faye, Keith Shadis (Eren’s Godfather), Tom Xaver (Zeke’s Godfather), Hannes, Armin and his grandfather, Kuchel Ackerman (bridesmaid), Kenny Ackerman (usher) and Levi Ackerman. Grisha did not like parties, but Carla settled the discussion with a resounding statement: "Silver anniversary aren’t celebrated every day, darling."

While Hannes, old Arlet, Pieck and Kuchel made a beef stew and the couple danced to the sound of Wiener Blut in the sitting room, Eren opened a bottle of beer and toasted with Armin and Zeke.

"You’re the only one, brother," Zeke pointed out. "You’ll retire bachelor. With ten Golden Balls, but a bachelor."

"The golden bachelor," Eren corrected. "Hey, Armin, you're single too."

"Annie and I are taking some time." His best friend shrugged.

Zeke laughed. He was a cardiologist. "I understand the heart much better than you... in all aspects," he used to say. And it was probably true: he was married to Pieck and the ring did not bother him yet.

"Really? She has been in Australia for two months. Do you know how long Australians last in bed, huh? About seventeen minutes, behind only the Americans, the Canadians and the English. As for the Germans, only eight percent have participated in a trio. If I were you, I'd start to worry."

"Did you just tell me I'm a bad lover?"

"No. Statistics, Armin. Information."

"This dude is like that." Eren took a sip. "He throw the stone and hides the hand."

"I have no interest in offending the virility of the Germans. I'm German, in case you haven't noticed. Siegfried is my grandfather and every Friday I go drinking with Wagner, but not all women know how to appreciate the Central European charm. Also, Melbourne is one of the best cities to live."

"Annie is in Sydney."

"See? That's precisely the problem." Zeke finished his beer and put a hand on Arlet's shoulder. "You know exactly where she is, but does she remember you? When a woman puts fifteen thousand kilometers between her and her partner, she only has one goal: to forget. And while she builds her new beginning, you water her plants."

"I still wonder how you seduced Pieck," Eren said. "Did you take her to dinner with Kaiser Wilhelm and Angela Merkel?"

"Actually, she won me. Well, I fell into the trap. I thought I could escape later. I was wrong and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I ain’t immune to women either."

Zeke showed a wide smile. He was blond and had a magnificent bearing. When the waltz was over, he congratulated Grisha and gave him a beer. Then he hugged Carla and cleared his voice. They all looked at him.

"This woman you see here is suicidal: marrying a Jaeger is dangerous, but marrying a divorced Jaeger with a child is deadly. The first time I saw her I was seven years old and I thought: Will she be like Miss Rottenmeier? No, thanks to God. I had always been Ezekiel, but she started calling me Zeke and that's how my friends, my coworkers and my wife call me. In a way, he baptized me. She ain’t my father's wife or my stepmother. Sorry, Eren; Being an only child is wonderful, but she’s also my mother and I would like us to toast her, the woman who brought us together here today. Cheers! Who’s in charge of the music? Auntie, put Spring’s Voices on. Eren and I are gonna dance."

"Wonderful idea." Armin laughed. "Football? As Martha Graham said, dance is the hidden language of the soul."

"You bastards." Eren took his brother's hand.

"Don't step on my shoes."

Among the music and the wild laughter of Kenny and Hannes, Eren did not realize what was about to happen. No clairvoyant would have guessed it. He looked sideways and saw her appear: black hair, aviator sunglasses, and a cigarette between her lips. White rolled-up shirt, capri pants and strappy sandals. He lost concentration and Zeke roared with laughter. He knew, of course. The last time he saw her was on the eve of her trip to Martinique, where she had spent the past year. The waltz ended and they both bowed. Eren did not want to raise the head. Why had no one warned him?

"Levi told me she came back last night," Zeke whispered.

Eren did not even hear the applause. He quickly returned to Armin, who was chatting with Keith Shadis, a retired military man, about the Ardennes Counteroffensive and the Nuremberg Trials. "I am almost sure," said his friend, a historian, "that Franz von Papen died in '69."

"Mikasa is here," Eren hissed.

"I know," he nodded, "and I'm gonna greet her, she's my lifelong friend and I'm glad to see her. You should do the same. Don't think about what happened."

"Did you know? Armin!"

His friend approached her. Great. Eren slipped out into the garden with a couple of beer cans and sat down on a wooden bench. Pretend you don't care, he thought. It belongs to the past, that's it! Fuck! You have to call it by its name: pain. Before she left, they drank like a fish and ended up going to bed. That was last summer. They had not spoken about it since then. He could already hear wise and eminent Zeke Jaeger’s voice: "So you haven’t had a girlfriend since Christ was crucified, but you shag with your best friend. Da ya need to talk, Eren?" Shit! Maybe he needed to tell someone how much her decision to go to Martinique hurt when he declared her love. She had a degree in Arts, so she was offered to do a study about Paul Gauguin, who spent a time on the island. So Zeke would say: "The Caribbean? I'm sorry, brother, I'm so sorry. You and Armin can cry together."

Eren was in love with her. It is one of those truths that one understands with a broken heart. And this led him to reject the insinuations of several, too many women in recent months. There were rumors that he was gay.

"Look who's here: Reds’ Hunter," Mikasa greeted him. "Can I sit?"

"You can do whatever you want." Eren was not angry, but a little drunk. He scratched his right arm; Delacroix's Liberty was tattooed from shoulder to elbow; Lower down, on the forearm, Goya’s Colossus collapses the Berlin Wall. On the inside of the doll, an M. Again, he could hear his brother's voice calling him an idiot.

Mikasa sat next to him. Her skin was not as pale as before: Caribbean tan. The serious mouth was the same and the gray eyes had not changed. She had a fine scar on her right cheek.

"Congratulations on winning the Premier."

"Yeah, well, first in Liverpool's history." Eren groaned. "How did it go with Gauguin?"

"Excellently. Van Gogh said that Gauguin didn’t paint with the brush, but with the phallus. However, mayby he didn’t die of syphilis..."

"Are you kidding me? Do you congratulate me on the championship and talk about Gauguin's cock?" He let out a sardonic laugh. "If that's all you have to tell me after all this time..."

"This is neither the time nor the place".

"I don’t care. We fucked, Mikasa."

"I know. I was there."

"Really? Because sometimes I think about it and it seems a mirage. You've been avoiging the matter a whole year, a fucking year. You show up at my parents' party like nothing's wrong and talking about fucking Gauguin." Eren paused. "Annie is in Australia. Do you know how long Australians last in bed? Seventeen minutes. How long do Martinicans last?"

"I know what you're implying," Mikasa said seriously, "and you're wrong, Eren. You’re very wrong. Do you think I would be able to do that after sleeping with you?"

Carla Jaeger interrupted them; the meal was ready. They were not hungry, but an inexplicable feeling oppressed them: Eren's blood boiled; Mikasa's was frozen.

"When you want us to talk as adults, let me know," she said.

Adults! Eren said nothing. He sat between Zeke and Armin, who gave him a questioning look. Eren sighed and started eating. He remained oblivious to all the conversations, sharing looks with Mikasa, sitting next to her uncle Kenny. One year had passed and perhaps he was angry, but he winked al her. She smiled and caught the kiss Eren discreetly sent her, and showed her thumb.

"Okay," Zeke said, after wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Have I ever told you about friendship between men and women? No, because it’s impossible. Were you and Annie ever friends, Armin?"

"Huh… Yeah?"

"No. You wanted to have sex, but you didn't tell her."

"I know you know," Eren whispered.

"I’ve known for a long time. In fact, I knew it before you did, bro. You were like Heidi and Peter, and now, if you were alone, this would become Nine and a half Weeks.

For Zeke it was too obvious, but what about the others? Eren looked at them closely. They talked about politics, football, past... Levi was the only one who remained silent. He was not a very talkative man, unlike his mother and uncle. Kuchel and Kenny talked and laughed like no one else. As for Mikasa, whose premature orphanhood led her to grow up with them, her character was soft; silent, good listener and without his cousin’s curtness. Did she tell someone what happened? Maybe Sasha Braus? After the meal, Eren felt adult enough.

The whole evening passed pleasant between anecdotes and skat hands. Keith Shadis left around six in the afternoon; He had to return to Munich for work. As for the others, Carla insisted that they stay for dinner. While Grisha and Zeke had a scholarly conversation about the latest advances in medicine, Kenny was laughing loudly with Mikasa by his side.

"I never imagined that we would have an artist in the family."

"I'm an art historian," Mikasa pointed out.

"If God doesn’t give you children, Devil gives you nephews." Kenny lit a cigarette. "Ackermans have always been country people. Levi was the first to go to university; He was already a whiz since childhood. Fortunately, Mikasa followed suit.

"What is Martinique like?" Carla asked.

"Quiet. When it rains, goodbye internet and light, and of course I have to mention mosquitoes, humidity, heat and earthquakes," she paused, "but people are lovely and the landscapes are spectacular. They are exactly like on postcards. Oh, and the accra is very good."

"We could go on vacation, honey." Zeke looked at Pieck. "I'm tired of Sardinia."

"But you have to be careful with snakes," Mikasa continued, smiling. "I was bitten by a eyelash viper. Nothing serious, but I wouldn’t repeat the experience."

"One year has been enough, hasn't it?" Eren, who was playing cards with Armin, had his ears set on the conversation.

"Yes. For now I will stay here I’ll go to Munich in September to work at the Alte Pinakothek."

"It's fantastic," said Armin.

"And you’ll be close," added Kuchel.

So Munich. However, Mikasa commented on the possibility of another trip. She specialized in Impressionism and did not rule out settling in France. After dinner, when it was time to say goodbye, Eren pulled out his cell phone and wrote her a message: "Do you wanna talk?" She looked sidelong at him and replied, "Come home tomorrow. We will be alone." Jaeger thought about that last one; He smiled, pleased, and quickly typed, "Good."

They all left except for Zeke and Pieck, who would spend a few days in the village before returning to Berlin. It was like going back fifteen years ago, when they still crowd around under one ceiling. Carla loved having them all there. Her good character led her to have an excellent relationship with her daughter-in-law. Grisha was pleased with the situation; He played chess with Zeke for hours, in total silence. Eren used to watch them, attentive to the gestures, wondering how they could drag on a duel that long. And it all ended with one word: "Checkmate."

Zeke followed him into the garden with a cigarette on the lips. He had tried to stop smoking, but there are things a man can never give up, like mentholated Camel.

"You don't smoke, do you? What a pity. One or two cigarettes once in a while doesn't hurt anyone, Mr. Perfect Abs." Zeke blew out the smoke. "Munich. A wonderful city, especially in October."

"We’re gonna talk tomorrow."

"One day I take a look at the yellow press and I see you with Historia Reiss, and I think you're a lucky bastard. You’re young, attractive and rich, but Martinique stands between you and the love of your life. Damn, I’m happy I’m not you."

"I love you too." Eren frowned.

"I’m trying to help you. Don't screw it up, okay? A bad step now and you will regret it all your life." His brother clapped him on the back. "Now If you can excuse me, I'm going to make love to my wife in my fifteen-year-old room."

"I didn't need to know that."

…

Having the house to herself, Mikasa went down to have black tea. Frugal breakfast, as always. She felt like an intruder in her own town and jet lag was not benevolent. She wanted to stay in bed, she’s just got ants in her pants. She did push-ups and thought about the last exhausting year. Operation Gauguin, as she called it, had been a true odyssey. Fuck the Caribbean. She had missed Europe, her family and friends, but duty is duty. As for Eren, she could not reproach him for anything. He was angry. She should not have slept with him before she left; Mikasa kept thinking about it for a moment. Secrets and sex are a bad combination for consciousness. Besides, she left without saying goodbye. She behaved like a real motherfucker and would do it again: sentimentality is not advisable before a possible trip with no return. No, she couldn't listen to Eren's feelings before getting on the plane. Deep down, she suffered from the greatest weakness: love.

She lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. God, the cold slabs were nicer than any bed in the Caribbean. The woman forgot the physical and mental exhaustion when Eren touched the knocker. She took a breath and decided to improvise. The first thing Mikasa noticed was Dior's perfume. He was wearing an unbuttoned black polo shirt, gray jeans, and deck shoes. The three-day beard and dapper cut fit him very well. Those tropical eyes ... Shit!

Silence. Glances. It was inevitable. Eren closed the door behind him and received her kiss in a frenzy. Mikasa bit his lips, tugged at his hair. The man held her prisoner in his arms, sliding his hands down her back, her hips and her neck, anxious and needy. Their mouths were lost in each other's. Eren threw his head back and went deeper, searching for lost time. He licked her lips from corner to corner. The touch of tongues was deadly like a sword dance. They parted, face to face, panting, obscene. Mikasa wanted to make love to him in the middle of the hall and tell him how much she had missed him.

"Did you want to talk?" Eren planted another kiss.

"Yes," Mikasa replied. "I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I have a very interesting story to tell you, but I don't know if it will be more exciting than winning the English league."

"Ok, you know I prefer Monet, but..."

"It has nothing to do with Gauguin." Mikasa took his hand and led him into the living room. If she thought about it, it was a concise thing, but difficult to assimilate. Eren sat down on the sofa. She made him coffee and moved to his side, maturing the words in her head. "It's complicated. If you don't believe it, I get it. I’ve spent more time in Cuba than in Martinique. I haven’t done any study about Gauguin."

"What?" Eren looked at her seriously. "What's going on, Mikasa?"

"I've been working for Interpol for a couple of years. No one knows, only you. Crimes against cultural heritage."

"I don’t get it. What does that have to do with Martinique and Cuba?"

"During Nazism many degenerate works were plundered. Gauguin, Chagall, Klee... Some works were located last year. There was a certain black market for art among many American magnates. That is why I went to Cuba together with a team, to find out the whereabouts of some Gauguin works lost since 38."

"It’s definitely more interesting than winning the Premier." Eren drank from his mug thoughtfully, still amazed. "Was it dangerous?"

"Not much. At least not for me. My job is to see, evaluate and give a verdict, not shooting. Do you think I'm out there drinking Martini and driving an Aston Martin?"

"The idea excites me." The man touched the scar on her face. "And this? I don't remember it. It’s not on the maps that I have of your whole body."

"Then you will have to add it." Mikasa took the cup from him, put it on the table and leaned against him, kissing him calmly and sweetly. For a moment she thought she would never see him again, or maybe he would see her repatriated corpse with a bullet in the head. God! She hugged him and rested her head on his heart. Eren stroked her hair and she trembled at the memory. "It was a shot. I don't know how I'm still alive. I was so lucky..."

"My God," Eren whispered. "Why did you not tell me? Don’t trust me?"

"I know you. Worry wouldn't let you focus."

"Of course not. And now that I know why you left, it will take me a few weeks to recover from my fright. Damn, it hurt so much when you answered my messages as if nothing... I wanted to tell you about my feelings, but you always talked about trivial issues and I thought you didn't care what happened between us. Why?"

"I was scared. I didn't want to think about you or our plans. What would have happened to all those words if I had died? Look at this scar. It’s a miracle I’m still alive. It happened a few days after arriving. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. A rich man held a clandestine exhibition, I infiltrated and they discovered me. I didn't want to tell you that I love you and then die. I don't do things that way."

"And how do you do it?"

"Like this." Mikasa kissed him again.

#eremika #Eren Jaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #eren x mikasa #zeke jaeger #snk #shingeki no kyojin #AoT #attackontitan #fanfic

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moonlightstars16 · 4 years

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Birthday Kiss

AN: Happy Birthday Steven Universe!

And thank you @ponpasta who inspired a part of this story with her beautiful artwork.

Traveling long distances for some are not exactly ideal. For Steven? A golden opportunity. He loved the time to just sit and listen to music, take things leisurely if he wanted(going on the right roads to do so of course), see all the sites and make notes of where everything is, etc. At first it was an adjustment but he grew to love it in no time. However he this wasn't just some long drive to anywhere he wanted to go.

He was visiting his old hometown, Beach City. Always keeping his childhood home close to his heart. Though it was time to spread his wings so to speak. Going back every once in awhile wasn't so bad though. Especially since he almost hit every single state he planned on. This was a nice break. Greg asked him to come back to celebrate the old Car Wash being upgraded and loads more "wealthy" customers as regulars. One of them being Nanefua since she became mayor(though always a customer just a more richer one).

It was an odd thing to celebrate but he was still proud of his dad. Continuing to work even though he had the money, well a part of it. He gave three-fourths of it to Steven for his travels and expenses; until he found a place and use the rest to start a home for himself. In a strange way he felt like he owed him at list a weekly visit. Besides still loving his dad like he always did. That never changed.

Upon arriving back to the temple beach house, he sucked in a deep breathe. This home he lived in had been through so much. Good and bad. It was like walking into a moment out of time. Nothing had changed since he left. Besides a few house plants on the front porch. Holding his hand up he flinched back as the door swung open. Garnet right there with a smile on her face.

"Steven!" She spoke in her abnormal tone of voice and opened her arms as he let his bag fall and embraced for a hug.

"Yo Steven!" Amethyst shouted as she slid down the staircase railing and joined in on the hug. Another loud gasp was heard as Pearl rushed up in tears.

"S-S-Steven!" She stuttered through her cries. Steven smiled as they stood there and he was embraced in their warmth and love. Something he missed while out on the road. His own tears brimmed his eyes as he blinked them back, pulling apart to look at them. Still being the most amazing people on the planet.

"I missed you all so much too." He spoke softly as they lead him back into the house. They told him his father was at the car wash and would see him when they got home later. Sitting in the open living room, Steven told them all of his adventures since last time they did a video chat.

How he had met Sour Cream one night surprisingly as he was DJing at a gig he had gotten through connections. The different cultures and the many different ways to save a flat tire and still use it in the middle of nowhere. Using his powers of course. Which he had gotten used to having again. Just using is sparingly. The gems told him all that was going on with the school and keeping him up on current events. Also how Pearl discovered emoji's recently. Which made Amethyst groan.

Greg came home soon after and hugged his amazing son. Steven relaying all he had told the gems to his dad. However when it came to asking about the car wash upgrade, certain questions were dodged in vague statements. Something in his gut told him it wasn't right. But after he literally just arrived, it probably wasn't the best to push it at the moment.

The gems and Greg insisted to Steven to at least take up his old room for the stay. To have a chance to sleep in a 'real bed' once more. After awhile he agreed just because he grew tired. Once everyone went to sleep, Steven laid in the bed and scrolled through his next traveling game plan when he got a text from a certain Jam Bud.

Hey I heard you just got home! You asleep???

Nope, I mean I'm tired but apparently not enough to fall asleep. Lolz

Oh I'm sorry! We can talk later if you want.

It's okay I want to converse with you. I really want to. Steven added heart emojis for emphasis as Connie gave back a quizzical emoji.

Is that so...check out your window. With a sly smirk and glance emoji, a winking one and a blowed kiss, he got up, slipping on his old salmon-pink flip-flop sandals plus pink jacket, walked out to the balcony and smiled. There was his beloved girlfriend, his sweet strawberry. Dressed in what appeared to be a thin pajama top and shorts that came to mid thigh along with sandals and a thin jacket. Hair down as she smiled and held up a flashlight. Waving her hand to have him come down.

Which he did so by jumping off and floating down to the ground gently. Not a moment was wasted as they ran towards each other. Connie wrapping her arms around his neck as he held her waist and swung her around from the impact twice before setting her down. Letting their lips touch in a gentle but passionate kiss. Pulling back they sighed, with a slight muffled giggle, before gazing into each others eyes.

"I'm so happy to see you in person!" Her voice though in a whisper was full of excitement.

"Always a joy to see you face to face...not through a screen." He added with another giggle as she nodded in agreement. "Though what's with all the secrecy?"

"What? Can't a gal like me just sneak out to surprise her sweet boyfriend? On his special day no less!"

"So you snuck out of your parents house and came her to see me for my birthday?" He had thought of it in passing but not to much in depth when it came to his own birthday. Still he never forgot important dates like this one. Even if he didn't think of it so highly as others have. Still this was beyond a sweet sentiment.

"Yes" She smiled as her head tilted slightly with adoration. "I know your family is going to stick around almost at the hip and I just wanted some time to spend alone with you. So if you are okay, I want to spend the first few minutes of your birthday with you. Starting..." She looked at her phone as the clock changed to twelve midnight. "Now! Happy birthday Steven!"

"Thank you" he chuckled at the kind gesture she showed for him. "But you didn't have to sneak away."

"Steven I would do anything to make you happy or show you how much I deeply care for you. Speaking of which, I found out a fun fact! I found out that a tradition on someones' birthday, you punch that person the amount of years they're turning." With a sly smirk Steven gulped and raised his hands up in the defensive. Connie was strong and was at times unpredictable.

"So you want to punch me seventeen times?" He asked with a joking nervous laugh and smile. Which made Connie burst out laughing a bit and instantly covering her mouth from the noise.

"Oh my starts Steven! I wouldn't punch you like that, especially that many times for your birthday." She explained after catching her breathe.

"Oh.. well that's interesting to know." He said with a curious look in his eyes as she rolled hers.

"Yes it is interesting, but you know what else is too?" Stepping closer she wrapped her arms around his neck as he slipped his around her back and waist. Their faces a few inches away as he gazed into her twinkling eyes. Slowly her lips found his as her eyes were shut, his following soon after. The kiss was gentle, slow and full of love. Pulling back she placed her forehead against his as they smiled, eyes still closed but their warmth still lingering.

"So you want to...kiss me seventeen times?"

"Our boy grew smarter, 'cuz bingo!" She whispered, fluttering her eyes open once more. "Not just any kiss. But one where everything around us disappears and it's just me and you."

"Well since I have sixteen left, can I have another?" He smirked as she sighed slightly shaking her head.

"Like you had do ask?" Giggling she leaned in closer and kissed him once more as he pulled her closer. Hardly breaking apart except for air. They stood like that for awhile. Letting their love fill the aura around them both. Soon Connie had to go back but promised Steven to see him later to finish giving his gift throughout the day. Before leaving on Lion Connie hugged him tight and gave another quick peck on the lips (but that didn't count persay).

"Connie, thank you."

"Of course Steven, Happy birthday." With a smile he helped her get on Lion's back and held her hand briefly.

"See you in a few hours?"

"I'll be right back at your side before you know it." Connie promised as he kissed her hand to show gratitude before allowing her to leave and going back to his own bed. Finally having a full night's peaceful rest. Especially before the craziness of the next day. Birthday notes all over the house as he got ready and was surprised by the party his family and friends were giving at the Car Wash, which did have a make-over but Greg avoided it so he wouldn't want to go there just yet. Especially since all the party decorations were already put up.

Everyone in Beach City came as well as gems from Little HomeSchool to celebrate. At first it was a bit overwhelming, but then the small reunion of 'Sadie Killer and the Suspects' (Just for him) began to lighten his spirits. Just like it did when he was a child. His father had him dawn the old king's cape and crown for the photo album, he talked with everyone and caught up with everything human and gem related. Realizing just how much the difference hardly mattered here. Both sides were living together in harmony because of all he had done. To see just that was all he could've asked for.

Leaping up he sat on the edge of the stage he sighed, looking at Connie. Whom was sitting next to him as well, wearing a beautiful strawberry dress. Both drinking punch and watching as everyone was having a great time. She nudged his shoulder playfully as he did so back. Both caught in a middle shoulder battle until their laughter interrupted it all.

"So, are you having fun?"

"I'm happy to see everyone together like this."

"Well you did influence a lot of this."

"Like I influenced your outfit, Strawberry." he teased as she blushed and gulped.

"Yes... I'm only saying it because it's your birthday!"

"Well thank you my liege for your honest." He chuckled as she sighed.

"Speaking of which, do you want your fifteenth kiss now?" He turned to face her and brushed hair away from her cheek, allowing his hand to linger there.

"Please?" Her hand overlapped his. Without a word she complied and answered so with her lips once again on his own. Neither caring if anyone saw.

Steven was beyond happy to have Connie in his life. She brought him joy in a way no one else could. She stuck by him even when they were fighting. It was her to bring out the best parts of himself. Their love they shared. Without her, he didn't know if he would be the Seventeen year old he was today. he might've influenced human and gem culture, but Connie influenced his life. Changing it for the better.

That was the best birthday present he could have ever asked for.

#steven universe #steven universe future #connie maheswaran #steven and connie #stevenxconnie #connverse #happy bday steven #happy birthday steven #connverse one shot

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fantasticpostpatrol · 3 years

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Assistir Anônimo (2021) Filme Completo Legendado em Português HD

Assistir Anônimo (2021) Filme Completo Legendado/Dublado em Português gratis

Assistir filme: | ✮☛ http://bit.ly/35O3j6c

Anônimo 2021 O filme de ação ‘Anônimo‘ (Nobody), estrelado por Bob Odenkirk (das séries de sucesso ‘Breaking Bad‘ e ‘Better Call Saul‘), acaba de ganhar seu primeiro trailer. O ator interpreta Hutch, um marido e pai subestimado que após uma invasão em sua casa, vê seu passado sombrio voltar à tona. O vídeo traz muita ação e impressionantes cenas de luta.

Lançado : 2021-02-25 Tempo de Execução : 115 minutos Gênero : Ação, Thriller, Crime Estrelas : Bob Odenkirk, Christopher Lloyd, Connie Nielsen, J.P. Manoux, Humberly Gonzalez

Confira a classificação indicativa no Portal Online da Cultura Digital. Assista e faça o download do filme Mulan Full Um dos maiores impactos da indústria de streaming de filmes está na indústria de Blu-Ray HD, que efetivamente cumpriu sua missão. Morte com a popularização do conteúdo online. O aumento no streaming de mídia causou a queda de muitas empresas de aluguel de Blu-Ray HD, como a Blockbuster. Um artigo do New York Times publicou um artigo sobre os serviços Netflix Blu-Ray HD. Eu declaro que A Netflix continua seus serviços de Blu-Ray HD com 5,3 milhões de assinantes, o que representa uma queda significativa em relação ao ano anterior. Por outro lado, seus serviços de transmissão têm 65 milhões de membros. Assista a um estudo sobre filmes que avaliou o "Impacto da transmissão de filmes no tradicional Aluguer de filmes em Blu-Ray HD ”, verificou-se que os inquiridos já não compram filmes em Blu-Ray HD quase tanto, se alguma vez, como a transmissão assumiu O mercado. No filme Mulan Full, os espectadores não descobriram que a qualidade do filme era significativamente diferente entre o Blu-Ray HD e a transmissão on-line. Os problemas que os entrevistados acreditavam que precisavam melhorar com a transmissão de filmes incluíam funções de avanço rápido ou retrocesso, além de funções de pesquisa O artigo destaca que a qualidade da transmissão de filmes como indústria só aumentará com o tempo, uma vez que a publicidade A receita continua aumentando o drama Mulan (Assista em Full HD Mulan) Assista e baixe Mulan Movie são codificados diretamente do disco Blu-ray para 1080p ou 720p (dependendo do disco fonte) e use o codec x264. Eles podem ser extraídos de discos BD25 ou BD50 (ou Blu-ray UHD em resoluções mais altas). BDRips são de um Disco Blu-ray e codificado em uma resolução mais baixa a partir de sua fonte (ou seja, 1080p a 720p / 576p / 480p). Um BRRip é um vídeo já codificado com uma resolução HD (geralmente 1080p) que é então transcodificado para uma resolução SD. Veja Mulan Movie BD / BRRip em aparência de resolução Blu-Ray HDRip melhor, independentemente, porque a codificação vem de uma fonte de maior qualidade. Os BRRips são apenas de uma resolução HD para uma resolução SD, enquanto Os BDRips podem variar de 2160p a 1080p, etc. sempre que a resolução do disco de origem diminui. O BDRip não é uma transcodificação e pode fluir para codificação, mas o BRRip só pode diminuir para as resoluções SD à medida que elas são transcodificadas. BD / BRRips em As resoluções Blu-Ray HDRip podem variar entre os codecs XviD ou x264 (geralmente de 700 MB e 1,5 GB de tamanho, bem como os maiores Blu-Ray HD5 ou Blu-Ray HD9: 4,5 GB ou 8,4 GB), o tamanho varia de acordo com a duração e a qualidade das versões, mas quanto maior o tamanho, maior a probabilidade de eles usarem o codec x264. Assista e baixe Mulan Movie Blu-Ray

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❍❍❍ TV MOVIE ❍❍❍

The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only within a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 1930s. Televised events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 19340 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 19440 World MOVIE inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 1948, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name “Mr Television” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 4, 1951 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets.

The first national color broadcast (the 1954 Tournament of Roses Parade) in the US occurred on January 1, 1954. During the following ten years most network broadcasts, and nearly all local programming, continued to be in black-and-white. A color transition was announced for the fall of 1965, during which over half of all network prime-time programming would be broadcast in color. The first all-color prime-time season came just one year later. In 19402, the last holdout among daytime network shows converted to color, resulting in the first completely all-color network season.

❍❍❍ Formats and Genres ❍❍❍

See also: List of genres § Film and television formats and genres Television shows are more varied than most other forms of media due to the wide variety of formats and genres that can be presented. A show may be fictional (as in comedies and dramas), or non-fictional (as in documentary, news, and reality television). It may be topical (as in the case of a local newscast and some made-for-television films), or historical (as in the case of many documentaries and fictional MOVIE). They could be primarily instructional or educational, or entertaining as is the case in situation comedy and game shows.[citation needed]

A drama program usually features a set of actors playing characters in a historical or contemporary setting. The program follows their lives and adventures. Before the 1980s, shows (except for soap opera-type serials) typically remained static without story arcs, and the main characters and premise changed little.[citation needed] If some change happened to the characters’ lives during the episode, it was usually undone by the end. Because of this, the episodes could be broadcast in any order.[citation needed] Since the 1980s, many MOVIE feature progressive change in the plot, the characters, or both. For instance, Hill Street Blues and St. Elsewhere were two of the first American prime time drama television MOVIE to have this kind of dramatic structure,[4][better source needed] while the later MOVIE Babylon 5 further exemplifies such structure in that it had a predetermined story running over its intended five-season run.[citation needed] In “DC1&”, it was reported that television was growing into a larger component of major media companies’ revenues than film.[5] Some also noted the increase in quality of some television programs. In “DC1&”, Academy-Award-winning film director Steven Soderbergh, commenting on ambiguity and complexity of character and narrative, stated: “I think those qualities are now being seen on television and that people who want to see stories that have those kinds of qualities are watching television.

❍❍❍ Thank’s For All And Happy Watching❍❍❍

Find all the movies that you can stream online, including those that were screened this week. If you are wondering what you can watch on this website, then you should know that it covers genres that include crime, Science, Fi-Fi, action, romance, thriller, Comedy, drama and Anime Movie. Thank you very much. We tell everyone who is happy to receive us as news or information about this year’s film schedule and how you watch your favorite films. Hopefully we can become the best partner for you in finding recommendations for your favorite movies. That’s all from us, greetings!

Thanks for watching The Video Today. I hope you enjoy the videos that I share. Give a thumbs up, like, or share if you enjoy what we’ve shared so that we more excited.

Sprinkle cheerful smile so that the world back in a variety of colors.

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tiny-smallest · 4 years

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i always thought i might be bad (now i'm sure that it's true)

Rating: G Characters: Steven, Rose Quartz Warnings: Mildly disturbing but despite his issues there are no suicidal themes here because despite having sunk really low the entire point of this is that he doesn’t want to die Description: When he was little, Steven thought his mother was something of an angel. When he got a little older, he looked into the light she blazed upon the world and felt the cold shadow her memory cast on him, the million and one ways he failed to measure up. By the time he confronted the fake image of his mother in her room, he wondered if he existed at all, if Rose Quartz's gem being wiped clean of her had truly left any room for him, or if one day he would wake up and be her, again. In that way, and in her looming memory, she had become his prison, a prison he? She? Had done to herself.

But one day a video call gone wrong with Peridot and Lapis brings up a horrific second possibility: maybe he was her prison.

Also on AO3!

---

Steven remembered, only vaguely, the first time he saw his mother.

He was four, maybe five, and he sat on the floor in Mrs. Vidalia's garage, chubby little hands gooey with paint. There was music off to the side; his father, Steven supposed in hindsight looking back.

He was smacking his hands against a canvas, and he remembered that viscerally- the texture of the paint and of the canvas.

But what he really remembered, the thing he actively tried to hold onto, was his father's gentle voice calling him, and looking up, and Mrs. Vidalia and his dad pointing to the painting she'd just finished.

He remembered thinking she was the most beautiful lady he'd ever seen.

---

By the time he was ten he was enamored with her. She was something both adored and forbidden, something brought up only on special occasions or in hushed whispers or through slips of the tongue. He lived for more of her story, fed to him in piecemeal installments, and was grateful that his father gave him them so easily when it occurred to him to do so.

He wondered years later, if he'd just been more candid with his father, if he could have heard about her more frequently. At least from him.

She cried because she loved so much that seeing others in pain brought her pain. That made his heart jolt. That was just like him! He cared about everyone too, and it always hurt so much to see them hurt! He'd felt it just that day, even, watching Amethyst dance around the edges of the cliff face, the thudding of his heart matching her steps, tears burning his eyes at the thought of her falling.

But when push came to shove and she really did fall and get hurt, he couldn't do it. He couldn't seem to make himself cry. It was like hearing that his mother could cry tears that healed people had robbed him of all his own tears, despite the awful feelings welling in his stomach.

Why couldn't he do this one simple thing? He cried all the time! Pearl herself pointed it out! He was still such a dumb kid and he cried over everything, like commercials and snakes and ice cream. Why couldn't he cry over Amethyst getting hurt!?

And when he did finally cry, nothing happened. It wasn't his tears that saved her life. It was the other Crystal Gems.

He failed to cry. He failed to have any healing magic in his tears when he did finally cry a hair ahead of it being too late. He failed his first mission at the Lunar Sea Spire. When he healed Connie's eyes and healed Lapis's gem, he thought he was finally making progress, only for it all to slip out of his fingers. A single silly lie was all it took to topple him? Really, Steven? No, instead he had to use tape to fix the geode. It was fine that Dad needed the tape, but Dad was human. He was a gem. Mom wouldn't have needed tape.

Failed, failed, failed.

That night after the test (that he passed but didn't deserve to pass but, thinking back to the choice he'd made, maybe he'd passed the most important test of all, somehow?) he sat underneath her portrait and stared up at her, the soft moonlight pooling on the floor around him but not touching him, the wall where her portrait hung in the way, and felt very small.

He was never going to be as good as her.

He did try, though! He tried so hard! Sometimes it came naturally, like when he helped people, or was just nice to them, and they were nice back, and somewhere amid all the warmth and joy of friendship and family hummed a happy little thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something good about him despite everything.

Even if he was never as good as her, at least he had that.

---

Lately he wasn't sure if he existed.

During the day the thought felt far away most of the time, but every once in awhile at night he would remember the way Jasper looked at him, feel the stark, cold terror of her gaze freeze him from the inside out all over again. Sometimes it was the memory of when they first met. Sometimes it was her as Malachite. Sometimes it was her gaze shot back at him over her shoulder as she turned to face him, Lapis's horrified face just barely visible behind her.

But for the past week it was her eyes as they lost lucidity, teal spots and spikes overtaking her body. Her shriek.

A trembling hand touched his gem and then flinched back.

He wasn't sure when the idea occurred to him. Maybe it had always been there, buried deep inside him (buried, like the truth-) and recent events made it too big and too painful to ignore, like right now, in the otherwise peaceful quiet night.

Nobody knew what he was, exactly. Or what he needed.

How did they know he was even him?

He had Rose's gem. That's what they called it, sometimes. His mom's gem. Other times they called it his.

What if they were both right? How did Mom giving up her physical form even work, exactly? And that's what they called, it, too- her physical form. Not her life. Her physical form.

Gems didn't get a lot about humans, even the Crystal Gems, but he was pretty sure they used 'life' as an everyday word. If she gave up her life to make him, wouldn't they say that instead?

Heck, even Dad had said that phrase to him once! Did they just want to avoid the word 'die' that much?

Did they phrase it so specifically to avoid saying anything they didn't know was the absolute truth, so they would never technically lie to him?

Was she really gone completely?

Sometimes, you even sound like her... Do you remember this place? Do you have any of her memories?

Maybe the questions Pearl should have been asking were 'did you somehow wipe your own memory' and 'why did you do this to yourself.'

Shattered someone. She shattered someone. She shattered someone and now... where did that leave them all?

He (she? he? she?) wished for a lot of things, once. To know the Crystal Gems better, to be in control of his powers-

Powers, he realized with a startle one day as he erased a save file on his video game (and found himself idly wishing he could forget the game entirely so he could experience it fresh again) that he was supposed to be growing into- and wasn't that what she wanted? Wasn't deleting her own memory just... a real life version of what he'd just been doing?

Erasing her save file to make room for a new one, to experience it fresh- to grow into her abilities and into the world instead of having it all foisted upon her.

Steven buried that game under everything else in his collection.

'Why did you do this to us?'

Steven (Rose?) had wished for a lot of things once, but now all she (he?) wished he (she?) had was an answer.

A prison.

This was a new possibility, one he hadn't considered until he righted Connie's laptop and found to his intense relief that Lion had knocked it over onto the safe landing space of the couch.

In the cooldown over being grateful that Lion hadn't seriously damaged something so personal to his best friend and that Lapis was feeling okay after such a raw, sudden spike of terror had ruined her afternoon, Steven found himself feeling bad all over again about what Lapis had gone through. She was a little rough around the edges maybe, but she was a good person. She hadn't deserved that.

As much as dropping everything to get to the barn had been inconvenient, he couldn't begrudge her the reaction she'd had. That must have been so scary, to think someone was putting Steven through what she'd experienced. Her eyes always went hard and kind of foggy at the same time whenever she talked about it; it was no wonder she'd lost her mind just now. Being trapped in something for years and years, in a prison nobody could even see you in, god, he couldn't even imagine-

W-where's your gem on this thing I-

Right here, he thought automatically to the memory of her scared voice, her frantic eyes, and he touched a hand to his gem as he closed Connie's laptop, and somewhere in the thought and the physical touch an awful, awful, connection was made.

Right here. Right here, in his belly. Where it had always been.

His gem. Her gem?

How did giving up her physical form even work?

What if it had in exactly that way. In exactly just insofar as her physical form.

Nausea took over his stomach. A haze of fog settled into his head. Cold fingers gripped his heart and squeezed until there was no more air in his chest.

A gem's whole being is their gem. Their body is just hard light and magic. Giving up her physical form meant giving him her gem but did it mean she stopped existing? Gems didn't stop existing when they retreated into their gems to heal. They were still themselves, inside their gem. Lapis didn't stop existing when she was embedded in the mirror; why would Rose stop existing when embedded in a human?

Was he her prison?

He ran to the bathroom and threw up.

For the next few days he drifted in and out of a fog, smiling at cues, nodding through conversations. He didn't talk to Lapis, but he thought about her baseball bat, how the solution was to smash the mirror, the laptop. He closed his eyes in the shower and didn't touch his gem.

But eventually Steven found himself sitting in the bathtub, feeling too tired, too heavy to stand up. Had he taken his shower? What time was it? What day was it? He didn't know the answer to any of those things.

After what must have been at least a week since the initial thought, he finally laid trembling fingers against the smooth surface of the jewel he had no right to be carrying around inside him. He traced the facets, watching the clear, brilliant pink gleam in the light. It was a little dull. He hadn't been keeping up with his daily grooming routine, giving it the attention he usually did. If I polish it, he thought blearily, my face will reflect in it, but that doesn't make it anymore mine.

Actually won't that just make it a mirro-

He gagged and clapped his hands over his mouth instead.

After a moment he eased his hands from his mouth and back to his gem, tracing his way down the sides to where the hard rock met his skin. He poked his belly a little, watching the way his finger made the indent in his roundness. He traced his way back from his flesh to the gem.

Flesh. Gem. Human. Magic. The mirror was smooth against the back of his hand. Ripping Lapis out had been hard.

He gripped his gem experimentally in one hand.

It was warm against his palm. It was always warm, even when the rest of him was cold, like after a long dip in the ocean when it was freezing, or a day outside playing in the snow. Somehow it was still always warm.

He set Lapis free. He should set Rose free, too.

I can't.

His pulse, or maybe his gem, thudded against his hand.

I can't.

He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that he needed this gem. Would removing it kill him? Would it erase his memory somehow? Split his consciousness in two? He didn't know. But he knew--maybe in the same way young humans know they need blood without being told--that he needed it. To pull it out would be to destroy his own existence, one way or another. He thought of how he flinched as Lapis's gem finally came free and the mirror jerked and spat shards everywhere, and his grip on the pink quartz in his stomach tightened.

He liked being alive. Or at the very least he liked his own consciousness. Liked being him. If asked if he loved himself he would answer without hesitation because of course everyone wanted to hear he did even if he didn't, but love and like could be two different things, right? He could like being himself the way humans liked having blood, and hearts, and lungs. It didn't mean he had to love his failures or his weird body or any number of things.

And besides, he could love how he helped other people, how he was kind and gentle and how he tried to be good, how that affected others-

Lapis's exhausted face, stumbling steps, the way she grabbed at his hands and smiled at him, weak and grateful...

Except that was all a lie wasn't it?

He couldn't take his gem out. He didn't want to take his gem out. His breathing grew harder, faster, sweat rolling down his face the more he thought about pulling, the more his fingernails dug into the jewel, scraped against his gut, his soul. He didn't want to take his gem out.

He didn't want to set her free.

He wasn't willing to break the mirror.

So he stood up, showered, dressed, crawled into bed, buried the whole night deep, deep under layers of quilts and fine, fine, I'm fine, we're fine.

Three days later he heard the story of the gems kidnapping him (guys seriously why didn't you just talk to Dad, he groaned in his head) and how all of them, Pearl specifically, so selflessly decided that Steven's life mattered more than Rose's wants. More than their wants. Her hand had touched his gem, but only seconds after her fingers tightened, she stopped. She could have had Rose back right then, but she stopped. Steven sat frozen through that part of the story. At least the whole thing had a gentle ending to soothe him a little. And wasn't it lovely, to think about how much they all grew!

After the general merriment and amusement had died down he excused himself to the bathroom to lift up his sweater and stare at what lay beneath. They didn't do it. They had no right to decide to do it, he supposed, not when it wasn't their lives in question. But he did.

He did and he still couldn't do it.

Selfish.

He was pretty sure that made him bad.

---

I forgot to copy this over from where I posted it originally oops. Here’s the original closing notes:

I've been picking at this for ages and ages because Youtube has been recommending me White Diamond's... speech? Verbal abuse tirade? At Steven for like, a solid month now, and I watch every single time, because it is chilling as hell both in just the possibilities she puts into the world (that thankfully aren't true but still, yikes) and in how it turns out she knew the whole time that Steven was Steven all along and just didn't care about ripping him apart if it got her Pink back.

Somewhere in all these rewatches of that scene I realized it's entirely possible Steven doesn't just fear that he's somehow literally Rose with severe amnesia, and then I remembered Lapis and the mirror. I have no idea if Sugar did that parallel intentionally but Steven's a smart kid. He probably picked up on it himself.

And since my other wips are all about Steven and his dad and Greg and Rose, how about a story about Steven and his mom.

#steven universe #su steven #steven quartz universe #su rose quartz #rose quartz #steven universe rose quartz #my writing

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onetwothreeopalau · 4 years

Text

Together Meal

Steven stuck his tongue out in concentration, gripping the purple crayon tightly in his fist. The colour was a little too dark for a perfect depiction but it didn’t matter. What he was doing was of upmost importance. He didn’t have time to buy new crayons. The task he had taken upon himself to complete was of upmost importance! It was almost life or death! It was-

“Er, what are we doing again?” Asked Opal, and Steven let out a sigh before grinning.

“I’m drawing an official Crystal gems picture, see?” He thrusted the page towards her, where he had already drawn a picture of Garnet looking out to the distance mysteriously (she wasn’t posing, Steven had just seen her and decided to draw her.) and he had started Opal. He had barely drawn an outline and yet he’d already had to explain what he was doing three times over.

“You see, I was going to take a photo but then I thought, 'where’s the passion? The creativity? The love?’ And also I dropped my phone in the ocean, so I thought a drawing would be just as good!”

Opal nodded, trying her best to understand Steven’s rambling, but not quite succeeding. Steven took the piece of paper back and resumed working. “Hey Opal?” said Steven suddenly, as if a thought had just occurred to him, “How do you stay on your toes like that at all times?” He stood up and attempted to copy her by standing on his tippy toes, but he felt himself stumble. Before he could steady himself, two of Opal’s arms reached towards him and stabilised him.

“Balance.” She said simply, getting back into her pose.

Steven waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing more. Steven nodded and pretended that his question was answered and went back to his drawing. He didn’t have a cream coloured crayon for her hair, so he had to settle for just drawing the shape of it with his black one, but overall his picture was pretty good. Probably one of the best he’d ever drawn.

“I’m all done!” He grinned and went to the fridge and decided on the area to place his artwork. He reached as high up as he could so it would be visible to anyone entering the house and put a magnet in the shape of a cookie cat (RIP) over it to secure it. Maybe he should’ve drawn himself too, but it was too late now. The picture was already on the fridge, and an author wouldn’t exactly edit their book after it was published.

“Nice picture.” said Garnet who had somehow managed to sneak up behind him. “Opal and I are going on a mission, but I have something to give you before we leave.”

Steven waited for whatever that was, and she leaned down and wrapped her arms around Steven’s shoulders and Steven smiled, hugging her back. “We’ll see you soon.” she said. Garnet and Opal walked over to the warp pad, and in a flash of light, they were gone.

Steven waved goodbye, even though he knew the two gems couldn’t see him, and then he went up to his bedroom. He tried to amuse himself with his video games, but he couldn’t help but fantasise about what it would be like when he could go on missions too. It would be awesome! He would kick butt, and Garnet and Opal would be like “wow Steven, you’re so amazing, we’re so proud!” And he’d be like “aw thanks guys,” and it would be amazing and exciting.

He couldn’t wait.

He played ‘Awesome Plumber Siblings’ for a bit but then he decided to do something nice for the gems and make them a meal for when they arrived back. They could all eat it together, like a Together Meal! He ran down to the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time and rummaged through the cupboards to find food and he pulled out anything he could find, eventually settling on a large pile of pancakes. He originally kept it classic, with just maple syrup, but it didn’t feel special enough for the gems so he added mini marshmallows and more syrup, although this time it was chocolate flavoured. It was almost perfect but it still felt somehow.. incomplete. He looked at it for a few moments, trying to decide what needed to be done. And then he had an idea! For the final step, just to make it perfect, he took a dark red cherry and placed it on top of the stack. It was a true work of art.

Now all he needed to do was wait for Garnet and Opal to arrive back. Garnet said they’d be back soon, so there was no way they would be long.

An hour later, Steven was starting to get bored. He lay on the couch looking intently at the warp pad. He wanted to be there the second they arrived back. Finally, after what seemed like years, the warp pad lit up. He jumped off the couch and went to greet them, but instead of saying hello like they normally would, they both went straight for the temple door.

Garnet’s stones lit up first and Steven just watched her go in, holding something large and noisy in her hands, but quickly regaining his wits, he grabbed the Together Meal he’d made and followed Opal into her room. He called out her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Steven was used to Opal being distracted and so he continued to follow her into her room. The place was cool and the air felt slightly damp.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised that all around him were steep rocks, caves and waterfalls. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to everything, but Opal practically danced around as if she didn’t even have to look to avoid tripping over some of the lower, jutting rocks. She eventually stopped at the highest waterfall Steven could see and jumped to the top before sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed, looking peaceful.

Steven felt guilty for trying to bother her and went to leave, but he quickly realised that he had no idea how to get out. He had no way of finding the door and even if he could find it, he didn’t know how to open it.

“Opal?” He called, but she didn’t hear him. “Opal!” He made his voice as loud as possible and she looked down, her calm face turning shocked the second she saw him.

She jumped down into the water below the waterfall, barely making a splash and began to look over him, checking every area of his body. Steven giggled. She was tickling. “Are you okay?”

Steven tried to smile, feeling bad for worrying her. “I made us all a Together Meal!” he said, lifting the plate. “I wanted you Garnet and me to have it together. As a family!”

Steven didn’t notice the split second grimace on her face. “It looks lovely. But Garnet is busy, and um- so am I.” To his relief, but also disappointment she began to steer him in the direction of the door.

“Are you sure?” He said pleadingly, and Opal looked conflicted for a second, before her face turned devious. It wasn’t an expression Steven saw on Opal often, but when he did, he knew he was in for a fun time.

She took his hand and began to lead them in a different direction, pausing occasionally as if having second thoughts, but they eventually arrived at a rockpool, filled with calm silvery water. She stuck her head in and made a motion for Steven to follow suit.

He stuck his head into the water and looked down. Quickly he realised he could see Garnet and in his shock he tumbled further into the water. Opal tried to stop him, but she was too slow, and Steven fell into Garnet’s room, still holding the Together Meal. Opal sighed. She thought for a second about going back to her waterfall and forgetting about it and dealing with the fallout later. Steven would alright with Garnet, she tried to reason.

It was tempting, but she couldn’t and with a sigh she followed Steven through the water.

The room was a lot hotter than hers, but luckily it wasn’t unbearable like it could get. She picked Steven up, so he couldn’t touch anything dangerous and sat him on her shoulder. Garnet turned to the source of the noise and she grinned sheepishly.

“Steven. Opal.” Garnet casually bubbled whatever she’d been holding but didn’t send it away. She looked at the ground by Opal’s feet, and Steven followed her gaze to see his beloved Together Meal splattered in the ground, sad and soggy looking.

“Our Together Meal!” He wailed. Opal just shrugged lightly, but Garnet looked sympathetic.

“You spent a long time on that Steven.” she said, voicing exactly what he was about to say before he could even open his mouth. “I’m sorry it was destroyed. I’ll help you two,”with that she gave a look to a sheepish Opal somehow managing to perfectly convey her disopointment even without her eyes being visable. “Out of my room. Then, you can make another one for us to share tonight.”

Steven grinned, but weirdly Opal didn’t look too happy. Maybe she was mourning the old one like him. “Okay!” He said anyway, and Garnet took him to the door.

Back in the house, he took a deep breath of the cool fresh air. Opal’s room wasn’t too bad, but the air in Garnet’s room really was hot and it was starting to get suffocating.

“Opal! Do you wanna help me remake the Together Meal?” Steven asked her hopefully.

“Sure."

Steven smiled. He missed the first edition of the Together Meal,in all of its wonderful foody glory, but he'd made it because he wanted to do something nice for the gems and this one would be even better, because now he got to spend time with his favourite gems in the world.

Notes:

So this is a lot less magical than what happened in the show and the reason for that is mostly because this was actually the first chapter I’d written and so I had a much weaker grasp on what I wanted to do with the characters and plot for this. It’s also why this is slightly shorter.

I’m having quite a low energy day™️ so my editing for this mostly consisted of getting rid of grammatical mistakes and any glaringly bad sentences than adding things to make it better or more interesting like my normal editing tactic is.

Sorry if I’m sounding too negative, don’t worry, not every authors note will just be me whining non stop (hopefully 😓) Have a nice day!!

Oopsie im a little (nearly 2 weeks) late in posting on Tumblr oops

#opal au #steven universe #pearl #amethyst #garnet #pearlmethyst #fanfiction

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icecreamisbetterwithafork · 4 years

Video

youtube

Hello friends!

I am super excited to share with you my new single "Letting Go"

(It will be available across all platforms for streaming and downloading on Friday, Jan 24th, 2020 at 12am EST/ Thursday, Jan 23rd, 2020 at 9pm.)

Until then, I invite you to enjoy this music video I made with my dear friend Ryan West, in my hometown of Encinitas, CA. Shot on a super 8 (real) film camera! I had a vision, Ryan was a yes, and the rest is history. He and his team made the making of this video so fun and effortless, and now I am so stoked to finally get to share it with you all! These days i'm learning to trust my gut, and follow it... things I wish I would have done, and fought more for when I was on a label. I felt strongly that having a visual would bring this song to life...I think it worked.

I know its been a minute...more like 6, 7 years... I've never been one to churn out songs for the sake of staying in the game, or whatever you want to call it. I try not to force myself to write anything, I tried that once and it was a disaster. All the songs that have ever ended up on my albums: good, bad, fan favorites, hits or not, have always come from the heart, they feel right. Like they belong. It's always been my experience, that songs come when they want. Sometimes it's many in a row, sometimes there is a dry season. For me it's merely being in alignment, and if I am lucky enough to capture a phrase, a moment, a feeling and let it move through me, out of my head and into song... well, that's the magic of what drew me to becoming an artist in the first place.

I honestly didn't anticipate taking such a long break, and if i'm being honest, I even caught myself falling out of love with music a couple times. I started exploring some other interests, I got super into health and wellness and plant based eating. I went back to school to become a health coach, and I even coached a bunch of clients while I was at it, which was super fun and a nice change of scenery. I took up snowboarding, something I always wanted to learn, but never did when I was actively on tour, terrified I would injure my hands. And then one day last year, in between two snowboarding trips, I was in LA for one day, and I called up my friend Steven Solomon to see if he was around and wanted to write. He was free, I went to his house, and this song just came out..literally out of nowhere. I cried my way through the entire thing, tissue box after tissue box. I knew at the end of it, we had written something very special.

When I put out Back To Home (2014), I had just gotten married. I literally got married (August 2014), went on my honeymoon (September 2014), came home, relocated to LA for 2 months to record (Sept/Oct 2014), put out a new EP (October 2014) and went on tour (Nov/Dec 2014). Then I came home for the holidays and found out I was pregnant. Kylo was born August of 2015, and by 2017 Kylo's dad and I decided we were going to separate. Our relationship was a whirlwind: we met, 8 months later engaged, 8 months later got married and 4 months later found out we were having a baby. It was a lot, in a short amount of time, in my experience we just were still getting to know each other, and figure out our relationship, and there was just too much, too soon, too fast. I found myself unable to handle it all. I do not regret any of it, it has all led me to right here, right now. It led me to becoming a mother. Honestly, it has led me to a better, more honest, authentic, version of myself. I know by now, when the shit hits the fan, there is a tremendous opportunity for growth and healing. I assumed when Kylo was born, i'd be back on tour within 6 months, writing songs, putting out albums..and boy was I wrong. I don't even know how to describe but I just feel like I lost myself. And eventually I knew this relationship I was in, I could no longer be in, even though the person I was in it with, was and still is one of the most amazing humans ever. It's a very conflicting feeling, when you know you can no longer stay in something, with someone, but also that nothing necessarily bad happened. What's that saying? Two people can be great, but not so great together. Our relationship works much better in the current dynamic: co-parenting and friends. I am proud of us for the many hours, nearly a year, of therapy we did to process the undoing of our relationship (Shout out to IMAGO therapy). I feel so lucky I had a partner who was willing, and brave enough to do the work with me, to identity our woundings and where we needed healing, I am forever grateful that we could split peacefully and really with the intention of putting our own shit aside and doing whatever was best for our son. I don't take for granted the fact that we can still be friends and look out for one another, we will always be a family. I know this sort of thing is rare, and I know it isn't possible for everyone, but I wanted to share because it was possible for us, which means it is possible. It is so against everything we are taught, but you can end a relationship respectfully, out of love, with compassion and kindness for one another.

After the divorce, I took a lot of time for myself. I started going to yoga regularly, surfing more often, meditating every day, drinking less, simplifying, spending more time outside, in nature, with Kylo... I slowly came back to myself, my center and I started to find music again. I knew I would write a song about everything that had happened, but I didn't know when or how. It's not like someone cheated or lied, or there was some massive fight. I started experimenting with new sounds, different vibes, but it always felt like I was avoiding the elephant in the room. Then that day came, mid Feb 2019. Letting Go was born, and it puts into words everything I didn't know how to say. This is a song about love, honesty, trusting yourself, and honoring all the precious moments with the ones we love.

I hope you find some peace in it, some closure, some hope, I hope you can feel the love. Thank you for listening, it means a lot.

xo TP

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after-chapitre-2-streaming-blog2 · 4 years

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After - Chapitre 2 Streaming vf les films et les livres tiennent une partie de mon cœur. Et de cette façon, j’aime tout. Non, je ne parlerai pas de la scène entière, je pourrais finir avec un nouveau film si je le faisais, donc c’est seulement pour des films spécifiques au filmAfter - Chapitre 2 , RegarderAfter - Chapitre 2 complet.

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17 avril 2019 / 1h 46min / Romance, Drame

De Jenny Gage

Avec Josephine Langford, Hero Fiennes Tiffin, Samuel Larsen

Nationalité Américain

Synopsis

Depuis son plus jeune âge, Tessa était promise à un avenir tout tracé : une vie rangée, une brillante carrière, un mariage tranquille avec son fiancé de toujours. Jusqu’à sa rencontre avec Hardin à son arrivée à l’université. Grossier, provocateur, cruel, c’est le garçon le plus détestable qu’elle ait jamais croisé. Et pourtant, ce bad boy tatoué pourrait bien lui faire perdre tout contrôle

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The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only within a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 1930s. Televised events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 19340 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 19440 World MOVIE inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 1948, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name “”Mr Television”” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 4, 1951 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets.

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Television shows are more varied than most other forms of media due to the wide variety of formats and genres that can be presented. A show may be fictional (as in comedies and dramas), or non-fictional (as in documentary, news, and reality television). It may be topical (as in the case of a local newscast and some made-for-television films), or historical (as in the case of many documentaries and fictional MOVIE). They could be primarily instructional or educational, or entertaining as is the case in situation comedy and game shows.[citation needed]

In 2007, it was reported that television was growing into a larger component of major media companies’ revenues than film.[5] Some also noted the increase in quality of some television programs. In 2007, Academy-Award-winning film director Steven Soderbergh, commenting on ambiguity and complexity of character and narrative, stated: “”I think those qualities are now being seen on television and that people who want to see stories that have those kinds of qualities are watching television.

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after-we-collided-1-streami-blog · 4 years

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#REGARDER™ | AFTER - Chapitre 1 | 2020 Film Complet Streaming VF HD Vostfr

After - Chapitre 1 Streaming vf les films et les livres tiennent une partie de mon cœur. Et de cette façon, j’aime tout. Non, je ne parlerai pas de la scène entière, je pourrais finir avec un nouveau film si je le faisais, donc c’est seulement pour des films spécifiques au filmAfter - Chapitre 2 , RegarderAfter - Chapitre 2 complet.

After - Chapitre 1 Streaming VF ▶️▶️ https://bit.ly/32yedvP

17 avril 2019 / 1h 46min / Romance, Drame

De Jenny Gage

Avec Josephine Langford, Hero Fiennes Tiffin, Samuel Larsen

Nationalité Américain

Synopsis Depuis son plus jeune âge, Tessa était promise à un avenir tout tracé : une vie rangée, une brillante carrière, un mariage tranquille avec son fiancé de toujours. Jusqu’à sa rencontre avec Hardin à son arrivée à l’université. Grossier, provocateur, cruel, c’est le garçon le plus détestable qu’elle ait jamais croisé. Et pourtant, ce bad boy tatoué pourrait bien lui faire perdre tout contrôle

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VOSTFR.Combien de temps as-tu dormi pendant le film After - Chapitre 2Rising ()? La mLe Voyage du Pèlerinique, l’histoire et le message étaient phénoménaux chezAfter - Chapitre 2 (After - Chapitre 1). Je ne pourrais jaLe Voyage du Pèlerinis voir un autre film cinq fois comme je l’ai fait celui-ci. Retournez voir une seconde fois et faites attention. RegarderAfter - Chapitre 2 Movie WEB-DL Il s’agit d’un fichier extrait sans erreur d’un serveur telLe Voyage du Pèlerin, tel que Netflix, ALe Voyage du Pèlerinzon Video, Hulu, Crunchyroll, DiscoveryGO, BBC iPlayer, etc. Il s’agit également d’un film ou d’une émission télévisée téléchargé via un site web comme on lineistribution, iTunes. La qualité est assez bonne car ils ne sont pas ré-encodés. Les flux vidéo (H.254 ou H.255) et audio (AC3 /After - Chapitre 1 C) sont généralement extraits de iTunes ou d’ALe Voyage du Pèlerinzon Video, puis redistribués dans un conteneur MKV sans sacrifier la qualité. DownloadMovieAfter - Chapitre 2 L’un des impacts les plLe Voyage du Pèlerin importants de l’indLe Voyage du Pèlerintrie du streaming vidéo L’indLe Voyage du Pèlerintrie du DVD a connu un véritable succès grâce à la vulgarisation en Le Voyage du Pèlerinsse du contenu en ligne. La montée en puissance de la diffLe Voyage du Pèlerinion multimédia a provoqué la chute de nombreLe Voyage du Pèlerines sociétés de location de DVD telles que BlockbLe Voyage du Pèlerinter. En juilletAfter - Chapitre 2, un article du New York Times a publié un article sur les SerLe Voyage du Pèlerins de DVD-Video de Netflix. Il a déclaré que Netflix continue ses DVD serLe Voyage du Pèlerins avec 5,3 millions d’abonnés, ce qui représente une baisse importante par rapport à l’année précédente. D’autre part, leurs serLe Voyage du Pèlerins en streaming comptent 55 millions de membres. Dans une étude de Le Voyage du Pèlerinrs 2020 évaluant «l’impact de la lecture de film en continu sur un DVD traditionnel MovieRental», il a été constaté que les répondants n’achetaient pas des films sur DVD aLe Voyage du Pèlerinsi gros que le mien, voire jaLe Voyage du Pèlerinis, comme la diffLe Voyage du Pèlerinion en continu a conquis le Le Voyage du Pèlerinrché. Regarder le filmAfter - Chapitre 2 (After - Chapitre 1), les téléspectateurs n’ont pas trouvé la qualité du film très différente entre le DVD et le streaming en ligne. Les questions qui, de l’avis des répondants, nécessitaient d’être améliorées avec la lecture en continu de films incluaient des fonctions d’After - Chapitre 2nce rapide ou de rembobinage, ainsi que des fonctions de recherche. L’article souligne que la qualité de la diffLe Voyage du Pèlerinion de films en continu en tant que secteur ne fera qu’augmenter avec le temps, alors que les revenLe Voyage du Pèlerin publicitaires augmentent chaque année dans l’ensemble du secteur, ce qui incite à la production de contenLe Voyage du Pèlerin de qualité.

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❍❍❍ TV MOVIE ❍❍❍

The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only within a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 1930s. Televised events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 19340 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 19440 World MOVIE inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 1948, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name “”Mr Television”” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 4, 1951 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets.

❍❍❍ Formats and Genres ❍❍❍

See also: List of genres § Film and television formats and genres

❍❍❍ Thank’s For All And Happy Watching❍❍❍

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