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utytimeline · 3 months

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Thoughts on UTY (Pacifist Version)

Reactions from when I first played Pacifist, and observations I made as the game progressed. A lot of these will be outdated by the time I get this list compiled, but it’s a faithful list of my reactions. No spoilers, plz. I haven’t done Geno, betrayal kills, or boss kills yet. (I kinda don’t want to, these are my babies.)

Long post ahead.

Ruins

Questions

Clover is the narrator, aren't they? I don’t think Chara’s even in this game.

What happens if we don't leave a tip at the lemonade stand?

Is there a way to wake Decibat after he goes to sleep? (I know that's cruel, I'm just curious.)

Dalv keeps talking about a friend, talking like he thinks he will meet them again- Kanako?

Dalv is mistaking us for the human that attacked him, isn't he? The one that made Chujin decide to kill the next human?

Who was leaving Dalv corn? My best guess is Ceroba- that she's felt sorry for him this whole time.

How to look in Dalv's locked doors/drawers? (Probably have to kill him. That... is gonna hurt. I like Dalv, he's a sweetheart.)

Observations

Decibat's music volume decreases the more you stay silent. (Which makes me think all battle music is being generated by Clover, not the monster.)

"Penilla draws near." (Italics added for emphasis.) *facepalm*

"Rorrim" is "mirror" spelled backwards.

Also, "Dalv" is "Vlad" spelled backwards, so might Rorrim be Dalv's personal mirror? Seems to fit, Dalv is extremely tidy.

Dalv's furniture's "fine craftsmanship" is probably Chujin's work.

Other Thoughts

I feel like a sponge cake with 2x absorption should have an effect where it absorbs damage for at least 2 turns.

Snowdin

Questions

Does the Snowdin ice block ever move? The guy that comes here from the Dunes just stands there and does nothing. Perhaps I need to check very late in the game, return from the last SAVE in New Home or something.

What kind of creature is Mo? I looked it up, and all I can find is "he looks like a raccoon." Yeah, I can see that, but he's kinda reddish-brown, so maybe a red panda? I also considered the possibility that Mo could be a tanuki, a Japanese raccoon-dog (and yes, it looks like a raccoon) that supposedly tricks people, especially tricking them into buying drinks- and Mo is a drink salesman.

What are we to make of the human on the wanted poster that Marty describes? She said they wore a hat like ours, but they came from space. I can’t think of a single equippable UT item that seems outer spacey. And since she’s describing a wanted poster, I don’t think she’s talking about Red (the monster she thought was a human). My first guess is that some monsters may equate the Surface with outer space, since they’ve never seen either (and many monsters are obsessed with the stars- Starlo and all the monsters making wishes in Waterfall, for instance).

Observations

Flowey: "We won't be anywhere near your fancy surface air for a while." (Italics added for emphasis.) He sounds... jealous? This was when I first realized that Flowey's only playing nice, but I still have no clue what he’s really planning.

"Snowy" is just barely recognizable in "Snowfall."

Mo's theme is easy to recognize because not only does it use the Sega Genesis soundfont, it even includes the Michael Jackson whoop from Sonic 3&K.

Ice Wolf was when I started to realize that Yellow isn't that long before UT. (Yeah, I know, Flowey should've been my first clue, but I simply assumed he couldn’t be Asriel, that he was someone else that somehow turned into a flower. Anything can happen in these games, after all.)

The Shufflers are all named after things you do with a drink: Toast, Swig, and my favorite, their leader Rephil (Refill).

The Shufflers scold Clover for starting a fight, but later Axis is the one trying to drag us into a fight. I guess battles can go either way.

Shopkeepers have full animations, it's not just facial expressions.

Yellow finally gives us real puzzles. Some of them even take a bit to solve.

Flowey makes a comment about mailing ourselves to Asgore. He clearly already knows about resets, so I think it’s likely that he’s seen the moment (at the end of The Dunes) that the whales start shipping people by mail.

Other Thoughts

Frostermit is so adorable. I need a Frostermit plushie.

Mo makes me think of what Spamton must have been like before Gaster (no, I'm not suggesting a connection, just that's what he made me think of- but given the other, more obvious DR inspirations throughout the game, I think it’s possible they were going for that kind of character).

Headcanon: Insomintot is related to Knight-Knight. They both inherited a genetic tendency to fall asleep when a human sings.

I love the UGPS jingle, it's so cute.

"(The remnants of a snowman. Once full of life. Now full of potential for new life.)" This line is a little creepy, to me. Clover may not realize it, they're probably just joking, but WE know that some snowmen in the Underground are alive, and I'm wondering what happened to this one.

I don't know if it's the same soundfont, but the Honeydew Resort theme reminds me of Final Fantasy: Mysticquest.

I actually picked "minor scales" when talking to the cellist at the resort, because I actually do like minor scales.

Being a Shadow the Hedgehog fan (the character, not just the game), I got a chuckle out of the description of coffee bean ammo. What do you mean, you can't eat the beans???

I haven't actually noticed any 4th wall moments, but Martlet's message on the second ball puzzle, the message that apologizes for making it too high to see and says the human must be very good at guessing, makes me think it's a very obscure allusion to the fact that Clover is being possessed by the player. There aren't enough moments like that in this game for me to go all crazy with lore and theories, but it's a nice touch to see such an allusion.

In all fairness, Marty has some craftsmanship abilities. Unfinished, shoddy workmanship notwithstanding, it still takes some knowledge of mechanics to make a water-powered door lock.

I just love Marty, she’s so sweet, I want her to be my little sister.

Waterfall

Questions

Why does the Royal Guard bother to survey their prisoners on “auditory ambiance” and things like that when they’re just gonna deliver the SOUL to Asgore??? I mean, isn’t the victim (except Red, apparently) usually dead before they get this far???

Observations

Not sure, but I’m guessing this is a different river than the one we travel with River Person. Not only do we never meet River Person, but the colors of the ground and plants behind Ava look like the marshy sections of Waterfall that we never get to walk in.

Other Thoughts

I love how we never actually visit Waterfall (unless you count the post-credits scene), we just float past it. Acknowledgement of the source material without actually copying it. And gave them that much more time and room to include an entirely new area (2, if you count the Wild East as separate from the Dunes).

The mention of a Royal Scientist threw me off. I totally did not expect Alphys, I thought this game took place many years before UT, and I’ve seen no Gaster references in this game at all.

The Dunes

Questions

More of a complaint than an actual question, but… if they wanted to make a Zelda reference, WHY OH WHY did they have to do the Death Mountain rockfall???

Since the Dunes are so near Hotland, could the gigantic Swelterstone be responsible for Hotland’s heat, too?

Since El Bailador calls us a “Sentinel of Silence,” how will killing Decibat affect the fight with Bailey?

If you do well in the Bailey fight, does he stop saying you don’t love dancing as much as him?

How to move the sunbathing (wait, what sun?) cactus that blocks that one road?

Observations

The Dunes is where I noticed that the battle theme changes depending on the location.

Sea Tea still increases SOUL speed. Loved that they kept this in.

Same black slime that we met in MTT Resort Hotel. And still outraged because of an elevator. Feels like he’ll never find a working one.

Bowll being a china bowl shaped like a bull is probably a play on the phrase “a bull in a china shop.”

Clover got the green healing flowers (the ones in the Omega Flowey fight) from Violetta.

I sucked at Mew Mew Love Blaster, but I watched a walkthrough, and DID THEY SERIOUSLY GIVE MEW MEW A “BIG SHOT”?!? (Coming back to this after finishing the game, I went, “yup, they did.”)

Other Thoughts

“Vigorous Terrain” is my favorite location theme, but I still haven’t figured out whether there’s any significance in it being a remix of “Your Best Friend.”

That first tumbleweed, the one that comes rolling out of the hole in the cliff, had me like “wut?” I did love how they replaced Undyne’s rocks with tumbleweeds.

I also love the mines music. The first few notes remind me of Zelda’s Lullaby (from LOZ).

I actually missed getting a free pickaxe because the monster’s trivia question about the Royal Scientist threw me off. I still didn’t realize this took place after Asgore hired Alphys, I thought it came WAAAAY before that. (This also finally confirmed for me that Flowey is, in fact, the same one we know from UT, Asriel.)

I tried not to make a lot of comparisons to DR, considering this isn’t even canon to UT, but I did feel like the mouse attack in Bowll’s fight was very similar to that one attack in the Maus fights in DR. But I think the Maus fight itself was probably a reference to some old video game (can’t remember which one, it just always felt familiar), so maybe UTY was making the same reference.

Was stunned to see Undyne look-alikes in the Mines, was more surprised that they mentioned her, and was the most surprised to find that they’re not related.

Clover has a very cute animation for hopping in the mine cart.

I could not figure out Bailador’s fight mechanics, and tbh, I got thru it on an absolute fluke (and the silver scarf). I had to look up a walkthrough later to realize you have to move into the right space AND press the action button when the color lights up. I thought it was just being in the right space. Every rhythm game controls differently, it seems.

Wild East

Questions

Do mail whales keep notebooks full of potential rhymes, like Marty and her notebook full of puzzle ideas?

Is “designated naptime” a reference to siestas, or did Star just not want to overwork everybody?

“A ballet shoe could be lethal if used enough times.” Um. Got anything to share there, Blackjack? “Don’t question my morality! I’m not prepared to speak on it!” OKAY, I REALLY NEED YOU TO SPEAK ON IT NOW….

Can we get into the locked farm cellar? (Preferably without killing anyone?)

Observations

Animals still living in the Underground at least provides some explanation for where monsters get their food (in addition to the corn).

The BEST part about the health overcharge? You don’t lose it when you SAVE! He might be a plague doctor, but Doc works absolute miracles.

Star paid double price for the gun he bought us.

They actually take around 15 paces for the dual (I lost count). (And yes, I spelled it “dual” on purpose.)

Moray comments that Star made them walk around with a rubber snake in their boot. I looked it up, and it looks like the first and most well-known movie to use that “snake in my boot” reference really WAS Toy Story (although it has origins outside of film from farther back). So Starlo also watches animations (as long as they have cowboys).

Vengeful Virgil’s comment that not caring about others’ feelings is what makes him a villain, comes while we’re on our way to console Star after his cocky selfishness drove everyone away. This was not a coincidence.

Every monster has a magical ability, and Starlo’s is literal “bullet time” (he can slow you down).

^This also makes me wonder: remember how he flew backwards in slow-motion when we shot him in the dual? I wonder if he was using his bullet time on himself for dramatic effect.

Star’s family: his dad, Solomon (the sun), his mom, Crestina (the moon), and a brother who’s name I never found but looks like a 4-pointed star. (I’ve seen people call him Orion, so I’m going with that, for now.)

Star has several sticky notes in his dad’s almanac, and keeps dad’s almanac on his own bedroom nightstand. Seems like Star probably took his life on the farm seriously before he left home.

Star also apparently had an interest in outer space. Possibly some confusion stemming from Toy Story? (I actually started headcanoning that Toy Story got him into cowboys, and put together a fic on that.)

Not sure where the term “space cowboy” originated, or what Clover’s actually referring to when they say it about Star, but the first use of that phrase that I’m finding is a Steve Miller song from 1969 (referenced later in Steve Miller’s “The Joker” from 1973, the line that a lot of people associate with Steve Miller: “some people call me the space cowboy, some call me the gangster of love”). The phrase has been used numerous times in multiple ways since then.

Seems like Star sewed his own outfit.

Other Thoughts

Picked “no” when Star asked if monsters die when you ride them into the sun cuz I thought the whole town would converge upon me, heh.

Was honestly surprised that the dummy finally showed up. This was the first time I tried using the FIGHT option, and it turned out to be rather difficult. I am not looking forward to Neutral or Genocide.

Star tells Ceroba we’re as good of a shot as him, and she goes, “Really? A child?” Still not entirely sure whether she’s poking a bit of fun at Star, but I don’t think she is. Star doesn’t take any offense to her comment for himself, and her sprite when she speaks next, saying she’s “impressed,” looks extremely surprised. (In all fairness, despite Blackjack’s claims, Star actually is really good.)

I suck at them all, but the mini-games in UTY are all so fun.

Love the change-up to the battle animation during Feisty Four’s attack, how they switch between characters and even team up.

“A tumbleweed rolls by. It says hello.” Well, why not? I mean, the rocks and cacti are sentient.

The first mention of Kanako at The Lab had me in tears, because, like… we KNOW what happened to her.

Steamworks

Questions

“The Steamworks was the main power source of the Underground.” This statement confuses the timeline a bit for me. The Core is now the main power source of the Underground, but my understanding is that the Steamworks was operational long after Gaster died.

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THAT LAST AWARD ON THE WALL SAYS.

Does the story change at all depending on what parts you use for Axis’ gf? (Also, I wonder how many of us just picked up the first 2 or 3 items and then realized there’s way more than 4 items to choose from and wished Ceroba would let us start over.)

Is there a way to fix the grandfather clock?

Does the grandfather clock say something different if the time on your PC actually is 6:26 on a Monday morning in spring?

Observations

Ceroba telling Clover to wait in the corner, kinda refers back to her doubting that a child could be as good of a shot as Star. She has very little respect for Clover at this point. Not entirely sure if it’s just because Clover’s a human, or if it’s also because they’re just a kid.

Don’t think I missed Flowey’s comment about The Lab. He clearly does NOT want us to go there.

Ceroba must have some kind of dimensional satchel, herself. I don’t see how else she can carry the hunkajunk we built (not to mention pulling her staff out of hammerspace).

BTW, “dihydrogen monoxide” is just water. Vendy probably just called it that to make it sound poisonous.

Vendy said their last boot up was yesterday and that their creator always comes by on Mondays to restock them. Sadly, the grandfather clock is stuck on 6:26, Monday morning. Kinda feel sorry for Vendy.

Guardener is actually nice. She even grows a flower just for the bot that came late.

Telly-Vis starts using the bullet patterns of other monsters during the “reruns” portion of the fight.

You can cheat on the Axis fight if you have the silver scarf. Just deliberately miss Axis when you ping-pong the red balls for enough turns to heal up.

I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m guessing that Ceroba would get mad and ditch you if you kill one of the robots, turning the run into a Neutral.

Other Thoughts

Screw those water puzzles at the start of Steamworks.

DAT MUSIC, THO.

I’m not gonna try to discuss Ceroba’s growing respect for us. That needs a whole analysis post of its own. (Well, everything about Ceroba needs its own analysis.)

Axis rolled in and I was like, “Oh, no, another one.” Seems like we just keep running into these darned toaster ovens on wheels.

Axis music is fire, tho, all of it.

I swear I hear some DR inspirations in the music. Haven’t learned the names for all the tracks yet, but at one point I thought I heard Digital Roots (when Ceroba’s fiddling with the generator) and at another I thought I heard Card Castle (the room where you build Axis’ gf).

A game mechanic I love: Ceroba’s shield effect (well, as long as it’s shielding Clover).

A mechanic I hate: Jandroid’s slippery floors.

I also love the manta ray ferryboat.

Mo’s level of professionalism is off-the-charts. He ain’t about to let a little thing like his clothes and his stand catching fire ruin a sales pitch.

Being a Christian, I’m not going to share what I really think of the Axis chase.

Loved seeing the return of popato chisps.

I swear, I thought all that white stuff was monster dust at first. Walked into the Science Division and nearly burst into tears.

I hope somebody finally has chance to either fix Guardener or shut her down properly once they reach the surface.

Conveyor belt puzzle caused me trouble because I kept trying to box up trash. Took me a while to realize “red” and “blue” referred to the highlights around the objects.

I’ll talk more in depth later, but I love how Clover has this calming effect on Ceroba when she’s chewing out the productivity bot.

Believe it or not, I didn’t get caught by Axis in the fireplace room! Go me! (Actually, it’s really not that hard….)

Still not entirely sure what I think of Axis deliberately handing us a “weapon” just to give himself an excuse to attack us.

I’ve said this before: he took me an hour and a half to fight the first time. I really hate the mechanics in his boss fight. And it was especially humiliating for me because I’d only died, maybe, 3 or 4 times before him. Didn’t have any trouble with Starlo, and while I never did get the hang of Bailey’s fight, I think I only died to him once. Guardener was responsible for the other deaths.

I love how Ceroba’s been insulting the Steamworks the whole time, but I don’t think she ever insults Axis. That was her late husband’s baby. And then she even gives him tips on dating.

Ceroba finally respects us after the Axis fight. It takes remembering why she needs us for her to be able to press on with her mission.

Chujin’s House

Questions

Woodworking, robotics, SOUL research, video game designer, loving husband and father- I know Chujin was kinda old, but how DID he find time for all this???

Marty finds Kanako’s room to be unsettling. Not sure why.

Clover doesn’t like the gas stove and worries it will cause a housefire. I’ve wondered before whether they came from an orphanage. Did they lose their family in a fire?

“The Founder’s Crest.” Who are the Founders? Founders of what? Or is this just a reference to something I’m not familiar with? (Possibly something in Japanese culture?)

Was Chujin actually that much older than Ceroba? Or did he just age rapidly because of his research? If boss monsters only age when they have children, how could he have become so old before marrying Ceroba… unless he’d already had, and lost, one child before?

I’ve been told there’s a secret behind Chujin’s grave. Will have to check it out the next time I do a Pacifist run.

Observations

Strange that Ed found the trapdoor so easily when Ceroba didn’t know about it until Chujin told her. Ceroba must not have covered it up properly before locking up the house. Possibly also Chujin somehow arranged it with her that he would be the one cleaning the dining room.

I feel like Moray’s the smartest one of the Four. They knew it was a good idea to send for Marty.

And THIS is where Marty gets smart. She takes charge in Star’s absence. The Four listen to her, even Ed (reluctantly). And SHE’s the one telling us to stay on track.

(Ok, she’s still a bit naïve- she doesn’t seem to consider that Chujin’s paper with her name is actually ABOUT her.)

The drawings on Kanako’s bedroom wall: Dalv, the monster on the Dunes swingset, her family… and a flower? Well, I mean… a lot of little kids like to draw flowers, so that might not be anything. Also a drawing of what looks like Axis lying on the floor.

“Nuh-uh! Kids shouldn’t mess with knives!” Nice little reference there, dev team.

And, of course, it’s Flowey who makes light of Ceroba’s mission, calling it a “science fair project.” Well. He has every right to say whatever he likes about SOUL research. Doesn’t he.

Of course, we didn’t get Star’s letter in time because Ceroba wouldn’t let us check the mail. But I highly doubt she planned it that way, as she had no idea the Five would be snooping around her old house.

Other Thoughts

Starlo is so. completely. PISSED. And… uh, he has a right to be. Like, she’s doing a lot of what he just did- lying and scheming and using Clover to fix her own problems (those two are a match set, I swear….) And he’s torn. These are his two friends, Clover being the human he practically worshipped, and Ceroba being one of his closest friends (not to mention the love of his life, but I digress). He doesn’t want anything to happen to her, but he can’t let Clover get hurt, either.

The fact that Moray sent for Marty as soon as learning that Clover was in danger just seals in the idea that Marty is part of the family.

…how long has that corn chowder been in that fridge, anyway???

I’ve already discussed my thoughts about Chujin in other posts, a lot of them still in queue.

Hotlands

Questions

Kinda wonder what could’ve made Clover suspicious about the wall to the left of the UG Apartments.

Never did figure out where the “rain” was coming from. I figure it’s just a leaky sink upstairs or something. (I’d thought at first it was from the janitor cleaning the hallway, but that’s on the other side of the building.)

Observations

I’m sure everyone recognized it, but in case someone didn’t, Bailey’s in the colored tile room.

I think Muffet herself blocked the way thru Hotland, renovating for her pastry shop.

Mr. Cursor mentions a 10-sided die. They have some version of D&D in the Underground. Probably more like… idk, Houses and Humans?

Working for Mettaton must have taken quite a toll on the janitor. He doesn’t look nearly so tired or decrepit here.

There was a flier on the bulletin board in the Wild East that was advertising the acts at the UG Apartments. The band we saw in Honeydew Resort has a gig at the Apartments on Fridays. So, this game- or at least by the time we reach Hotland- is on a Friday.

Other Thoughts

The monster candy is butterscotch-flavored. *nods* Of course, what else would it be?

Poor Heats. Defeateeeeeeeeed again….

Star can actually survive drinking magma. I’ve got headcanons about this boiling in my brain….

I thought Know Cone said he was just gonna look at Hotland from a mountaintop…?

New Home/Pacifist Ending

Questions

If there’s an elevator leading to the castle, I’m guessing that means at least one of the other endings has us actually fight Asgore.

How exactly does Kanako’s mask give Ceroba superpowers? I feel like it might be a reference to Japanese mythology, but I know very, very little about Japanese mythology.

How exactly does Clover have the ability to see into Ceroba’s memories?

I kinda hate myself for asking, but… what happens if you choose FIGHT after you beat Ceroba?

Observations

Star is the one asking Ceroba if she’s gonna kill them all because while he doesn’t know all the details, he recognizes the headspace she’s in.

Other Thoughts

Not only am I thrilled to finally get to explore some of New Home, I’m absolutely in love with the design and the music.

I think when Ceroba says she lied about Kanako, she’s not saying she lied about Kanako falling down, or about sending her to the lab. She lied about having any hope that Kanako would return safely.

How the heck do frikkin’ cherry blossom petals have so much attack power???

The dash mechanic took me time to learn, but if Toby ever decides to steal from Yellow, I hope he steals this :P

My reactions to Ceroba’s plan: “But Chujin specifically begged you NOT to use Kanako! How do you think you’re honoring his memory by going against his final wish?!” “Oh, I see, finishing the serum was his death wish. That’s still no excuse to use your own daughter, tho.” And finally: “…oh…”

I tried to get thru the game without cheats (except for being on easy mode) but I did have to turn on auto-fire for Ceroba’s final phase.

#undertale yellow #my thoughts #questions #my analysis #long post #pacifist #too many characters and locations to tag

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buttercupjosh · 3 months

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Opinion/Rant: To start, I’m bringing up something that occurred back in 2020 but myself and some others didn’t see the actual video until 2021. This post is a bit long but please bear with me. Anyways, I’m bringing this up now because I’ve noticed throughout 2023 and throughout part of 2024, there’s been a big resurgence of Vince content on here (yeah, I already know he’s cute and a talented player, I used to hold space for him on my blog and post about him in the past) but a part of me feels like people have either forgotten about what he did or they just don’t know what occurred so this post serves as an educational post for those who may not know (or a reminder for those who may have forgotten) and is not intended by any means to cause any drama. I also do share some of my opinion on what happened in this post as well.

For those who don’t know or remember, back in 2020, Vince used to do live streams of him playing video games on Twitch during COVID lockdown and during these streams, he would play music while he played games. On one of these game streams (I don’t know which specific one it was from), Vince was singing along to some song and the n-word came out of his mouth (the video of the incident is at the very end of this post). Yeah, I know he listens to a lot of rap and R&B and I’ve seen some people say that he was drunk when it happened and that the song was choppy but that doesn’t excuse him saying it. According to others who watched the stream when it was fully available, Vince allegedly didn’t apologize for using the word and when he was called out for it in the stream chat, he allegedly got a bunch of people to harass the person who called him out.

As someone who’s Black, it hurt me a lot to hear Vince say the n-word, even if it was for a second. For those of y’all who defend him and act like what he did wasn’t wrong or trying to come up with excuses for him, you don’t fully understand how painful and harmful his actions were. Just because I’m Black (I personally choose not to use it) and other Black people say it freely, that does not mean the word is okay for just anyone, regardless of race, to use in any context. Just because Vince didn’t say it to me or anyone directly, that doesn’t mean what he did is acceptable. To me, hearing a non-black person use the N-word any capacity is extremely personal because it’s been used towards me in a negative way by non-black people throughout my life. It also bothered me that Vince allegedly didn’t have the decency to even say “whoops, sorry I said/did that” when he was called out for it on the game stream and allegedly resorted to downplaying the situation and having people harass the person who called him out. I am not trying to play the victim but I am trying to educate y’all on his actions and to also let y’all know why some people don’t like him.

Another thing I’m going to note is that you cannot always automatically assume that someone you don’t know personally has put in the work privately over something they were exposed for publicly if they haven’t shown any public sort of proof of some growth. That means you can’t come to me and say “he may have learned from using that word” when there’s no public evidence anywhere that he has. If you choose to believe he has, then that’s your opinion. To me, Vince could have publicly shown some sort of growth by doing something as small as posting a blackout Tuesday post during the height of Black Lives Matter movement in June 2020 or liking a tweet of support from that time or maybe even participating in some of the Kraken’s Black history related stuff (like how Grubauer and Blackwell talked about Black hockey history with J.T. Brown and Everett Fitzhugh) (I know February is right around the corner with Black History Month and if Vince does something then, maybe my viewpoint on him may shift a bit). Yes, I did see a video of Vince talking about his thoughts on BLM and he did make valid points about how not everyone has to be posting online to protest injustice. However, Vince didn’t clearly say anything that showed he did something about it offline besides using an example of how if a rapper goes to a protest, everyone knows who the rapper is and if he were to go, no one would know who Vince is and also saying “who’s to say I’m not going to protests or donating to certain charities”, without saying he actually did those things. (A good example of a player being called out/exposed for something but fixing what they did is when Quinn Hughes didn’t use Pride tape once but later on, he used the tape and even made inclusive comments during the NHL pride tape controversy last season).

I AM NOT SAYING OR IMPLYING VINCE SHOULD BE CANCELED OR THAT HE IS A RACIST OR A HORRIBLE PERSON BUT HE SHOULD BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE BY HOCKEY FANS. Holding him accountable means that if you want to, you can still like him for the benefit that he has on your team or recognizing his talent or some of his community work but you can also remember what he did in the back of your mind. (Think about/keep that in mind when you post about him too).

I know that it’s not always easy to hold someone that’s on a team you like or someone you liked beforehand accountable (there are several players on teams that I like who help my team succeed and players that I’ve admired before but I don’t like or agree with certain, questionable things that they’ve done) but if accountability looks like no longer holding space for them on your blog through posts or putting them up on such a high pedestal in your life or to stop thinking they can no wrong, that’s fine too. Holding a player accountable looks different for everyone and there’s no set formula/guidelines for that.

If you still want to support him after seeing this post and watching the video below, then that’s on you. If you choose to not support him anymore or at all, that’s on you. However you choose to feel about it is valid and I respect that (even if I see it differently). I know that he’s never going to address or acknowledge this and I understand that it happened back in 2020 but his silence on the matter nor should the amount of time that has passed shouldn’t stop fans at all from holding him accountable.

(Again, this post is me sharing my opinion on something Vince did, educating those who may not have known about it and also reminding those who may have forgotten this happened. Again, I’m not saying or implying that he is a racist or should be canceled. All I’m trying to say is that he should be/start to be held accountable by hockey fans. We all hold our own bias when it comes to things and I’m not using this post to try to push anyone towards a certain side either. Again, I’m also not saying he’s a horrible person either. Interpret all of this information however you want/choose to.

Also, if you’re even thinking about sending me a hate anon for this, go touch grass or get better hobbies. Better yet, if you send me a hate anon, just know it’ll go into the trash with your garbage words.

Lastly, I am also going to say that I do not tolerate nor support/agree with anyone going after anyone who still chooses to support Vince or chooses not to support him and if you do that to someone, you’re a very scummy person. Also, I am not going to send anyone anything about this either because I got all of my thoughts out here and respect others’ opinions so if you somehow get a hate anon about it, it’s not from me because I dislike the feeling of getting one and wouldn’t want to put someone else through that).

Video Info:

Twitter/X Link to Video

Actual Video from Twitter/X for those who don’t use Twitter/X

#vince dunn #seattle kraken #rants and rambles #(Seattle fans please don’t block me)

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redshoes-blues · 2 years

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Will Byers Vecna Song Theory

You may have seen my Will Byers Mirror Theory, which is where I discuss my thoughts on why Will being put under Vecna’s curse is pretty much inevitable in vol. 2. I wanted to delve deeper into that theory, discussing the music itself, and how a few songs apply to Will as a character. This section assumes that Will gets Vecna’d, so if you want more info on that theory, it’s linked above.

Also this is long as hell. Whoops?

Music plays a crucial role in Stranger Things. Even before Vecna was introduced, the iconic 80s soundtrack is a feature of the show, and several characters within the text are huge music fans. One of these characters is Will, who we know uses music to comfort himself in the Upside Down in ST1. Assuming Will is cursed during vol. 2, what songs might save him? What do these songs represent within Stranger Things and in the real world, and how might they give insight into Will as a character?

As I see it, there are 3 possibilities for Will’s song. The way I selected these songs is by looking at the songs Will himself mentions, songs directly related to important moments in his arc, and more subtle prop hints.

1. Should I Stay or Should I Go, The Clash

2. Boys Don’t Cry, The Cure

3. Heroes, David Bowie

Let’s go through each song and see how it could work for Will’s song.

Should I Stay or Should I Go

To me, this is the obvious first pick. When I first realized Will would probably fall under the curse in vol. 2, my first thought was: “oh but he’ll be safe, everyone in the Party knows he loves that Clash song.”

Will sings the song to himself in the Upside Down when a Demogorgon is near, and the Demogorgon leaves. Although music doesn’t seem to have the same impact on them as it does Vecna, the song still provides Will comfort in times of panic and distress. In flashbacks, we’re shown that Jonathan introduces the song to Will during an argument between Joyce and Lonnie. The song acts as a shield for Will in that moment, just as it does later on in the UD. Within the Vecna scene, it would provide a perfect parallel to Will being in the UD for the first time early in the show.

However, as I mentioned in another post, “Should I Stay or Should I Go” is now a song intrinsically tied to Will’s trauma from the UD. Now, the mechanics of how songs work and which ones may or may not work haven’t been ironed out yet. I suspect this will be elaborated on in vol. 2, but if the song is now tied to traumatic memories, maybe it won’t work.

Maybe there’s another song Will connects to on a deep level that is less obvious to both viewers and the Party. In such a case, the disconnection between Will and the Hawkins gang will quickly become apparent. This is especially the case if Vecna gets to Will before the California and Hawkins groups are reunited and able to go over details. But even if Will if put under Vecna’s curse when everyone is back together and the California gang finds out what’s happening, Will has still been disconnected from the Party (aside from El, but even then we know he hasn’t told her about his crush on Mike).

I think it’s quite likely that the Party could try “Should I Stay or Should I Go” (maybe even at Jonathan or Mike’s suggestion), only to have it fail.

So if it doesn’t end up being “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” what other songs may Will have a personal connection to?

Boys Don’t Cry

I love the idea of “Boys Don’t Cry” saving Will from Vecna’s curse because A. I’m a massive fan of The Cure, and B. I love how the song could connect to him as a character! In case you missed in, the reference to this song is subtle, as Will has a poster of the album cover in his California bedroom.

I’ll be honest and say that of the three songs, I think this one may have the most limited evidence to support it. But perhaps that’s the point?

Will’s character arc in ST3 was very much about him feeling left behind, and that is definitely continuing in ST4. Mike is realizing how the two of them have split apart because of the distance and his own lack of awareness for Will’s feelings in ST3 and beyond. We’ve never heard Will mention “Boys Don’t Cry,” but we as viewers have grown distant to Will as a character, just as Mike has (note: Mike is often used as a character to show the audience’s perspective, and his lack of awareness reflect this).

Although the song is alluded to, it hasn’t been played or mentioned directly. If this is Will’s Vecna song, then it will show how distant he has become from his friends as a result of many factors — one of which will likely be his sexuality, something I can see Vecna using in the vision to make Will feel more like an outsider.

“Boys Don’t Cry” as a song is a bit of an anthem for gay men. Especially during the 80s. The song is about toxic masculinity and the ways Western society has damaged men by making them cover up their emotions. Within a queer reading, the song could also be used to highlight the ways that gay men in particular are stereotyped as feminine or overly sensitive, the second of which has been used as a descriptor for Will within the show. As we know, Will has his own experiences of toxic masculinity, especially where Lonnie is concerned (baseball is a key metaphor here).

So even though “Boys Don’t Cry” is only shown in a prop, the song would be a powerful message for Will: conquering toxic masculinity and finally sharing his feelings and emotions by coming out to his loved ones.

Heroes

Okay, I know I seemed enthusiastic about the other two options, but “Heroes” is where my true alliance lies. Listen, I’m slightly biased here. David Bowie is my all-time favourite artist, and “Heroes” is my all-time favourite song. But I digress. For fellow Byler shippers, this is the song out of the 3 that I think most aligns with a queer reading of Mike and Will’s dynamic.

Note: I’m not the first one to come up with “Heroes” being used as Will’s Vecna song. Go here to @gayeddiemunson‘s post which initially brought the idea to my mind (and inspired this long-ass analysis)!

“Heroes” is played twice over the course of the show during two peak emotional scenes. In both scenes, a gorgeous Peter Gabriel cover of the song plays. In my theory, it’s specifically the original Bowie version which would be used for Will, and I have a specific reason for this that I’ll get to.

In ST1, the song plays when “Will’s” body is discovered in the quarry — specifically showing his body, Mike running home, and Jonathan and Joyce hugging in a shot which mirrors Mike and Karen. In ST3, it plays at the very end of the season when Hopper is reading his letter after “dying.” In these instances, a character is thought to be dead and the other characters mourn them in some way. Both characters are later revealed to be alive. In other words, "Heroes” is a song which represents resurrection in Stranger Things.

Given the knack the Duffer brothers have for creating parallels over the course of the show, I wouldn’t be shocked if they faked Will’s death again within Vecna’s curse, before using “Heroes” as a signal to save Will.

It’s important that the version used is Bowie’s original recording because it’s more upbeat than Peter Gabriel’s cover (making it much less melancholic and attached to negative emotions in the show), and because of a scene between Will and Jonathan in ST2, ep. 1:

Jonathan: You know what? You’re right. You are a freak. But what, do you want to be normal? Do you wanna be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else? Being a freak is the best, alright? I’m a freak . . . Who would you rather be friends with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers

Will: Ugh

Jonathan: Exactly. It’s no contest. The thing is, nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world.

Within the text, Bowie and Will are both “freaks.” Both outsiders in their own way who are scorned by some because they don’t fit into the norms of a heteronormative society. Bowie is a figure who was openly queer during the 70s, experimented with the boundaries of gendered fashion, and openly and bravely expressed himself in a much less accepting world. He stood up for queer people when others didn’t, and was an icon beloved by outsiders and people who weren’t seen as “normal.” For that reason, using Bowie’s version of the song would be a perfect moment of Will accepting that he’s a “freak” . . . but learning to love what makes himself different.

I do think Vecna would be most likely to make Will feel like an outsider by comparing his experiences as young Henry Creel to Will’s own feelings that he’s a “freak” because he doesn’t fit his society’s norms. In this way, Will fighting off Vecna with Bowie’s “Heroes” would be a beautiful moment of acceptance and resurrection as he comes back to life (the Real World) a stronger person.

Heroes, Will, and Mike

My final reason behind the “Heroes” song theory has to do with Byler, so if that isn’t your thing, that’s all good — feel free to skip this!

During ST1 when “Heroes” plays, Mike’s reactions to Will’s “death” are key in the sequence. Mike runs home and Karen comforts him as he cries over the death of his best friend. In the meantime, the following lyrics play:

And the guns, shot above our heads And we kissed, as though nothing could fall And the shame, was on the other side

“Heroes” was written when Bowie saw a two people kissing next to the Berlin Wall, and was struck by the image of a structure representing the Cold War next to a forbidden love affair. This section of the song is the most romantic part, when the couple comes together despite their forbidden love, casting aside the shame brought on by the affair, feeling free like “heroes” in the arms of each other just for one day.

I don’t think “Heroes” has the same meaning in Stranger Things as Bowie’s initial inspiration. As I said above, I see it as a motif representing resurrection and new life in the show. But I do find it fascinating that the line about shame over a romantic love affair occurs during a shot of Mike. Coincidence, perhaps. But interesting all the same.

Obviously Will’s love for Mike is considered forbidden at the time. Whether or not Mike has feelings in return wouldn’t make a difference towards the forbidden nature of being gay in the 80s (at least according to the dominant culture). For this reason, the song not only connects to Will for the various reasons already described, but also to Mike given that the song plays for him as well as Will. If the Duffer brothers plan to make Byler canon, then I could see “Heroes” becoming an important song in the show again.

Final Thoughts / TLDR

Out of the 3 songs I've analyzed, I think “Heroes” has the strongest evidence supporting it: both within the narrative (the song has been used 2x in Stranger Things) and subtextually, from a character analysis perspective. Overall, Bowie’s original “Heroes” is a song of forbidden love by a queer artist who Will aligns himself with in the show. As well, the song represents resurrection and rebirth within the show, which thematically relates to the idea of Vecna’s curse.

Anyways, that’s all for this mammoth of a post! I’d love to hear what anyone else thinks. Are there any songs I missed that could be used?

#will byers analysis #stranger things music #stranger things music theory #byler endgame #byler analysis #will byers #st4 spoilers #stranger things theory #bowie theory #stranger things analysis #will byers is gay #and so is mike #vecna's curse #vecna #vena song #vecna theory #this is so long god #redshoes-blues

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recorderzone · 2 months

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Welcome to the circus!

Welcome to the Recorder Zone, a blog where I only occasionally scream into the void about obscure early musical instruments! I’m Jasper (pen name), a gay Jew with raging ADHD and it very much shows. Beyond that, I don’t use a whole lot of labels, but I generally don’t love super masculine terms (particularly dude, bro, man—as a rule of thumb, if it sounds like something a frat bro might say, maybe don’t call me that).

I’m an adult, and while I usually don’t post much that I would consider inappropriate for minors, I can’t promise that something risqué won’t pop up here once in a while. I trust your judgement to avoid following me if that makes you uncomfortable. Please don’t follow me if you’re a bigot of any stripe.

A little about me:

I’m really into music! I love the recorder (obviously), but my primary instrument is the oboe/English horn. I’m also a decent flutist and have at least some working knowledge with most woodwinds and piano.

I really love baroque/classical/romantic music, Impressionism, and especially weird early-mid 20th century shit. Ravel and Hindemith have my heart.

Beyond instrumental music, I enjoy anything from indie folk to progressive metal. I’m not a huge music snob—I usually just listen to the same 7 songs on repeat at any given time.

I’m a huge huge nature enthusiast! I love hiking, camping, bird-watching, and using Jewish spirituality as a way to enhance outdoor experiences. I haven’t seen very much of the world yet, but I’m always eager to talk about other people’s experiences in the great outdoors!

In theory, I love the idea of being a book person, but I’m like mega dyslexic. Whoops.

I’m a huge nerd about Judaism—I’m reconstructionist, I can’t help it! I’m a Jew-by-choice who only recently completed my conversion, so I still have a lot to learn!

I like to collect hobbies and then get burned out on them after a few months. In theory I enjoy crocheting, lace-making, composition, writing, baking, and cooking, but I haven’t done most of those in ages tbh.

Just an FYI, I am a perpetually stressed and overbooked college student so I may fall off the face of the Earth every now and then.

Thanks for bearing with me through that mega long monologue. Consider giving me a follow if any of that resonates with you!

#pinned intro #jasper blabs #buckle in because this blog absolutely has an identity crisis

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kozubaby · 2 years

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Date Night

Keishin Ukai x Reader

Also posted Here

“Wait, but don’t you have practice with the kids tonight?” You asked as Ukai pulled you along to his car.

“Eh, Takeda can handle it just this once. Come on, let me take you out. It’s been too long.”

You nodded and smiled softly at him before sliding in and putting your seatbelt on. He jogged over to the driver’s side after closing the door for you and climbed in. After turning the car on, he let the top down and pulled on a pair of sunglasses.

“Shall we, sweet thing?”

He drove you into the city where you grabbed some delicious street food and ate in the car, watching the sun go down from a prime spot in an empty parking lot. You hadn’t allowed yourself to admit it until now, but you really missed him. He spent so much time coaching those amazing kids, and they were thriving with his help, but that meant lots of evenings and weekends alone at home. It was worth it, though. You’d never seen Ukai so motivated or generally fulfilled.

“Sweet thing, you’re staring at me.” Ukai smirked, pointing it out in that gravelly tone from years of smoking you’d only recently convinced him to stop doing. Of course you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting your blatant staring, so you rolled your eyes, sucking your teeth and turned away. He could see the playful color in your gestures, though and wasn’t even remotely offended.

“You know I love a headstrong woman, sweet thing, don’t tempt me.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek, lingering close to your ear. “I can always pull the top back up, and we can handle business in the backseat.” The way you gasped and covered your mouth was damn near embarrassing, but a series of flashing lights served as a much needed distraction as cars started to pull into the parking lot. You could hear music blaring from sound systems and people whooping and hollering excitedly.

“Babe, what is this parking lot for?” You wondered aloud as more and more people parked and started climbing out of their cars.

“Ah that would be the second half of our date. Come on, let’s get in early and find a spot.” He reached into the back seat and grabbed a duffle bag before hopping out of the car. You hurriedly followed him, hearing the alarm beep behind you and merging with the rest of the forming crowd.

Once close enough, you could hear music bumping loudly from inside, mid-2000s hip hop you hadn’t heard in ages. The neon flashing lights and chaotic-patterned carpet were what really gave it away for you.

“A roller rink? Keishin, I haven’t been in a pair of skates in years.” You explained as the nostalgia of your young adult years flooded your brain.

“I know. I saw those pictures of you from a decade ago and thought I had to see you in action.” He paid and led you past the skate-rental desk to a carpeted bench just like the ones at your old rink.

“Hey, don’t we need skates?”

“Gotcha covered, sweet thing.” He dropped the dufflebag to the floor and unzipped it, pulling out two large shoe boxes and handing one to you. “Hope they’re the right size.”

You scrambled to open your box as excitement took over your senses, and inside, you found a pair of custom skates, black and hand-painted with sunflowers, just like the pair you’d worn all those years again.

“...Kei…” You didn’t know what to say as you ran for fingers over the details. Ukai only smirked at you and pulled his own skates on before bending down to help you into yours, tying the laces around the back like you used to do to stop them from catching in the wheels.

“Ready?” He stood, reaching a hand out to you.

“Wait, I haven’t skated in so long I-”

“It’s like riding a bike, baby. You never really forget. Anyways, I’ll keep you on your feet.” Ukai could be so damn smooth, and he knew what that did to you. You rolled your eyes as you took his hands, and immediately he started skating backwards, pulling you onto the polished, lacquered wood of the rink where other patrons were already speeding by.

And he didn’t let you falter once as you got reacquainted to the skates and the flow. At some point, he let go of you and skated circles around you, playful but also making sure that you were completely steady until you were completely comfortable. You turned to skate backwards, and he complimented your skills, although you were definitely more impressed with his.

When the music changed and the DJ announced adult couples only for the next few minutes, you recognized the old RnB song, even remembering the choreography the old couples at the rink used to do. Ukai approached you, taking your hand and spinning you around until your back was to his chest.

“I know you know the choreo, sweet thing, so show me whatchu got.” He spoke low and rich in your ear before swaying back and forth, signaling the start of the sequence. He matched your every move, sliding his hand along your stomach or tapping your hip as you glided around the rink so effortlessly, skates in sync and never clashing, bodies feeling the beat of the music and the heat of each other. You spun and broke apart for a footwork section and came back together toe-to-toe before the sequence started over until the DJ announced ‘free skate’ was back on.

You skated together until the last song, Keishin whispering sweet nothings in your ear and making you feel like the only ones on the rink, until finally it was time to pack up and go home. You carefully placed your skates back in the box and then in the duffle for Ukai to carry out.

“Did you have fun, sweet thing?” He asked, grabbing your swinging hand as you made it across the parking lot and to his convertible.

“Yeah, that was amazing. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” You climbed into the passenger seat and settled in for the ride home.

“Good, because you and I have a standing date every other week at the rink. No matter what, I’m making time for us from now on.” He leaned over to kiss you lovingly before giving you a dazzling smile, starting the car.

#keishin ukai #keishin ukai x reader #ukai x reader #keishin calls you sweet thing #ukai is so smooth #of course he would take you roller skating #ignore the inconsistencies in time and place #haikyuu drabbles

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pawjamas · 2 years

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I keep meaning to start journaling/keeping a physical diary again. Instead I also just spill shit on my tumblr. Literally do not know how I still have followers I must be so annoying except that I’m like a goddamn soap opera at this point. I did keep a journal around 6th grade that I called a “diurnal” I guess but I never actually wrote out that word (of course diurnal is in fact a real word outside of smashing the words “diary” and “journal” together). I drew comics from my life. My friends left notes and it. It was an open book that any of my friends were allowed to read. I wrote out my feelings. Imaginations. Things that happened to me and things that bothered me and hopes and dreams and all the things a 6th grade girl’s journal should be. I wrote to my older self. I always said I would come back and read it. When I was 16. When I was 18. When I was 20. I’m 22 now. I haven’t touched it except to pack it up to move from house to house. I find that I have enough of my own troubles now I don’t need 11-13 year old me’s troubles, even though retrospectively those were the best years of my life. I hope some day I’m mentally in a place I can go back and relive that time. But I haven’t been there yet. I’m working on getting there. I feel like every time I pull myself back up on my feet I get knocked down again. The past 8 months have been more of a rollarcoaster than I’ve had in years. So much I thought I was sure of was just uprooted for me. Through a lot of this I’ve been on the hunt for more suitable stuffed animals because I’ve decided that if my life is going to be hell despite the best I make of it (and I really do make the best of it I’m also very much loving my best life through all of the shit that the universe is throwing at me). Went to the beach today. Sat in the sun. Listened to good music. Collected shells. Went shopping. Things I do quite often. Things that make me feel good. Should probably go back to journaling which makes me feel good or at least less like crap where this all started but basically I just meant to check in and be like hey I also used to journal lol and I bought some stuffed animals today but yeah that got away from me. This is embarrassing. Whoops. (You can still post it it’s fine /gen)

-Silver

i adore reading others' ramblings about life, so it was truly a treat to read all of this. while packing all my things for the move (of which still hasn't happened however a majority of all my life's treasured belongings are in boxes in storage now) i ran across my old journal i kept during childhood. it's HUGE like a massively long big journal with so many memories packed into it. though i mostly wrote daily happenings in it i also made sure to tape and paste memorabilia from what happened that day - movie tickets, stuffed animal tags from new plushies i'd get, i'd paste in drawings from sketchbooks or note paper i especially liked. photos, restaurant menus i kept as a kid (old kids menus lol), leaves and flowers from adventures outside. i also want to revisit that journal someday, i want to re-read the nice memories i made during that time period. i also hesitate as well though, i'm likely going to wait until i'm ready as well.

the best you can do with the current life your living, the one that's so much more complex and different than the years recorded in your journal of 6th grade, is do as you described and make the best of each passing day - i'm glad you can still love it despite the horrible turns it may take, the many struggles, and ups and downs you're dealing with are still all worth the warmth of the sun on your skin, the sound of the ocean crashing beside you, and collecting new stuffed animal friends. over and over i've had to rediscover there really are simple pleasures to life worth staying here for, a lot of things i neglect to notice when things seem to take another bad turn. but i hope you continue to enjoy these things, and i wish you good luck if you decide to start journaling again. ❣️

#letters 💌#silver ♡

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

pleeeease write a blurb where the girl's a member of little mix and they do an award show performance, so tom keeps hyping his girl up and recording stories, just being a supportive bf 🥺

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it💞 I know you said you wanted a blurb, but I could never write short things, I’m always too damned detailed and shit, I’m sorry😭 Happy reading🥰

💌.

#1 Fan

Based on Little Mix’s 2019 BRITs performance of Woman Like Me, I suggest watching it to understand Tom’s insta story💞

“You’re going to absolutely smash it. All of you are.” Tom encouraged you. His large hands grasp onto yours comfortingly. The two of you were currently backstage at the BRITs in your and the girls’ shared dressing room. Tonight was a big night for you all, as you and the girls were nominated for two awards: British Artist Video of the Year and British Group of the Year. Additionally, the five of you were going to be performing your latest single, “Woman Like Me”.

To say that you were jittery was an understatement. You were terrifyingly nervous, it made you feel nauseous. Your stomach was a jungle of butterflies, fluttering nonstop as the time to perform grew closer and closer. You glanced at the clock and took a deep breath. The pink latex bra you had on felt as if it were getting tighter and tighter around your chest. Tom notices your slight discomfort and glances at the time, “How about we sit? You’ve got plenty of time to relax before you all go on stage.”

Tom wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to the couch in the dressing room. He settles beside you and moves his arm to rest across your lap, his hand interlocking with yours. You leaned back into the seat and watched the girls make last minute touches to their hair, face, and costumes. Tom squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. Your eyes shift to meet his warm chocolate brown ones. A soft smile grows on his lips, “Hey.”

You reciprocate his smile with a smaller one, “Hi.”

“What’s wrong? You rarely get jitters before going out on stage.” He asks you quietly so only you could hear. You stare down at your lap and fiddle with his fingers.

“I-it’s just different from what we’ve been doing lately.” You start, glancing at Tom. He nods for you to continue, “We just haven’t been doing live performances for such a long time. Like on tour, we’re usually performing in front of our fans. Not the entire British music industry or live television.”

Tom brings your hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss on it. “There’s nothing to worry about, darling. You—and the girls, are going to do amazing as always. You guys are the best at live performances. The amount of work and dedication you girls put into this is going to pay off, I swear, it’ll be a standing ovation. Everyone’s going to love it.”

You smile at your boyfriend’s support for you and the girls. You couldn’t help but peck his lips, to which he replied with a lovestruck grin.

“I’m just nervous that I’ll mess up. Like what if I miss a step of the choreography—or stumble on my words while I’m singing? Oh god, what if I forget the lyrics—“ Your eyes widen in horror as your head generated all the worst case scenarios that could happen on stage. Tom shushes you and gingerly cradles your jaw, being careful of the makeup on your face.

“Listen to me.” He levels his eyes with yours to make sure your attention is on him. “You’re not going to mess up or forget a line—none of that nonsense is going to happen. It’s a load of bullshit. You wanna know why? Because you’re (y/n) (l/n), a member of one of the biggest girl bands of the world, you’re my girlfriend, and you’re the most beautiful and talented girl I’ve ever met. You’re just overthinking. I know you, (y/n). Once the music starts on stage you get lost and start singing your heart out, the crowd just disappears from existence. It’s only you and the girls up on that stage and you’re going to make one hell of a performance. I just know it and so do the other people waiting in that audience.”

You stare at him, stunned by his sudden motivational speech. “Since when did you get good at pep talks?”

His mouth gapes at you, “Uh—stan Twitter? The fans? Is that seriously what you got from all of that?” You shook your head and wrapped your hands around his wrist. “No, I heard every single word. I guess I’m feeling a bit more better now, so thank you, Tommy.” You peck his lips again, despite the fact that your lip gloss was getting on his lips. Though he didn’t care, as long as he was kissing you.

“Still got some nerves?”

“Just a little bit. But I’ll be fine, especially with you in the crowd.” You interlock your fingers with his and glance at the clock. Only 10 more minutes till you were all going to perform.

Tom’s face lights up, “Front seat babe, I got the best seat in the house. I swear, I’m recording the whole performance on my phone. I already got Harrison to help me take Instagram stories for me at the same time. I need every angle.”

Jesy takes that as her cue to join the conversation, “My goodness, you’re such a dork.” She reaches her hand out for you to help you get off the couch.

Tom fakes a dramatic gasp, knowing Jesy didn’t really mean her jab at him. “I don’t know what you’re taking about, I’m just being a very supportive boyfriend. AND Little Mix’s number one fan.”

You dust your pink pants off and take a look at yourself in the full body mirror. You did a little shake too loosen your limbs out and did some breathing exercises. Tom lets you do your pre-performance ritual while he talks with the girls.

Perrie crosses her arms, amused at the younger Brit, “Are you seriously competing against a bunch of teenage girls to deem yourself as our number one fan?”

“Well are they dating one of the members of Little Mix? I don’t think so. You know who is? Me.” Tom gestures to himself sassily. “I even get to hear all the new music earlier than everybody else and get good seats at concerts.” He bragged while one of the members on your team helped you place your in-ears.

Jesy rolls her eyes before gesturing to the door, “Right, I’m calling security. Apparently we’ve got a crazed fan in our dressing room.” Jade and Leigh-Anne stifle a laugh at the bickering.

“You can’t kick me out, I have backstage access.” Tom defended himself with crossed arms.

“No seriously, babe. We’re about to perform in five.” You join the conversation, finally feeling your anxiousness start to fade away. Tom blinks at you, “I’m being kicked out by my own girlfriend?”

Jesy laughs at Tom, taking the piss out of his offended expression. A sly smirk grows on your face. You hold your hands out for him to help him off the couch, “If you want to record every second and angle of our performance, I suggest leaving now.”

Tom straightens out his suit before interlocking your fingers with his. He leans forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re gonna be great. I love you.”

You giggle, eyes beaming up at his warm brown ones, “I love you too. Now get back to Harrison, you’ve left him alone for too long.” Prior to leaving, he stops in his tracks and manages to gather you and the girls into a group selfie. He wishes you all good luck and leaves, making his way back to his seat in the audience.

While he walks back, he posts the selfie you all took onto his Instagram story with the caption, “Good luck to these beautiful ladies! Tune into the BRITs to see their performance, you don’t wanna miss it!”

He gets back to the table designated for you and the girls to see Harrison with an unamused face.

“What?” Tom asks him, confused at his friend.

“You left me here by myself, you div.” Harrison quips. Tom cringes and apologizes to his friend.

“You’re still gonna help me record the performance, right?” Tom sheepishly asked gesturing to Harrison’s phone.

“Yes, Tom, I’ve told you multiple times that I’ll record it.” Harrison held his phone up getting his camera ready. Harrison was about the rant about Tom and how whipped the boy was for you, but was sushed by his best friend.

“SHUT UP IT’S STARTING. HARRISON START RECORDING!” The lights dimmed while someone announced you and the girls. Harrison had his phone already filming while Tom held his phone up, ready to start recording things for his Instagram story.

Tom’s Instagram Story:

“HOLY SHIT!” Tom screamed behind the camera as he recorded the opening of the performance.

You and the girls were stood up while the dancers were on the floor thrusting up at you all. The camera flips to Tom, who’s mouth was agape, “THAT SHOULD BE ME.”

The camera is back to the stage, where you and the girls are doing the choreography with the chairs. Tom whoops loudly in the background and yells, “THAT’S FUCKING SICK—HARRISON LOOK AT THEM.”

“YESS! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!” Tom screamed, thrusting his finger in your direction when your part of the song came on.

Tom zooms in on you as you strutted alongside the girls on the stage, he flips the camera back to him and a smirk is on his lips. He nodded before telling the camera, “That’s my girl.”

Tom forgot to turn his camera around and ended up recorded himself reacting to the performance. A proud smile is on his features while his eyes lit up as they followed you on stage. He leaned closer to Harrison and says, “She looks stunning, mate, my god.”

The stories cut to him and Harrison dancing and singing along to Woman Like Me.

The camera cuts back to you. You’re singing your part in the chorus and you hit a certain note that stuns Tom. He flips the camera to himself, a shocked expression on his face while he hyped you up.

The colored lights reflect onto Tom’s face, his mouth widens when he realizes you and the girls included a dance break in the performance. He flips the camera back, making sure all five of you were in frame.

Tom cheers in the background along with the audience when you and the girls finish your performance.

An unbreakable smile is on Tom’s lips, “There you all have it, I tried to record some parts just in case you all missed it—But that was probably one of the greatest performances they have ever done. I feel so honored to be here.”

Tom leans over so him and Harrison are in frame, “What did you think of the performance, Harrison?” Harrison grins, “I thought it was out of this world, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Tom’s face is hovered above the camera, “I just wanted to let you all know, that after tonight, I am officially becoming a Little Mix fan account. Follow me for more insider updates on Little Mix.”

You come back to the table to see Tom, Harrison, and the girl’s dates beaming at the five of you. You’re all greeted with congratulations and hugs. When you finally reach Tom, he crashes his lips onto yours and lifts you up.

You giggle against his lips, “Hello to you too.”

He pecks your lips twice more before placing you back down, “You were—I don’t even know how to describe it. You were fucking amazing up there.”

You whine, the blush growing on your cheeks while you hid your face in his neck, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without your little pep talk. So thank you, lovey.”

Tom waves you off while helping you into the seat beside him, “That was all you, darling.”

You and the girls settled down as the awards show continued on. You were drinking a glass of water and reached out to check your phone. Tom stops you, grabbing your wrist. You shoot him a look.

“No—just, don’t watch my Instagram story. Please.” He asks you with a sheepish smile. A loud roar of laughter is heard from across the table, making you all look at Jesy. She simply holds her phone up, screen facing you all, with Tom’s story playing on it.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland blurb #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #little mix #jade thirlwall #perrie edwards #leigh anne pinnock #jesy nelson #ally’s request #Tom Holland

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oonajaeadira · 2 years

Text

Tumblr Writer Q&A

Thank you for the tag, @green-socks !!!!

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)? None. I tend to publish as soon as something’s done.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? I have 5 open series right now *cringe* sorry!

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? I don’t really take requests in the traditional way. I might open asks for a specific kind of request, or use asks as a jumping-off point (i.e. Pats), but mostly I get an idea and go for it.

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? I currently have 32 pats asks sitting in my inbox. I’ll be answering a good chunk of them soon.

5) How many fandoms do you write for? It’s strictly Pedro Pascal cinematic universe.

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? I never really published my other fanfic, but I no longer write for Ranma 1/2 or Doctor Who.

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? Reader inserts!

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? I don’t think so?

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? Oh yes.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? Romance, slow-burn fluff.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? Friends to lovers is kind of the closest trope to what I write, I guess. For reading through, big fan of sex pollen, a/b/o, monsterfucking...for all the softness I write, I like to let others handle the smut and I will gladly partake. (I really love reading the soft falling-in-love stuff too...)

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? Watching the source material. Answering reblogs for that series. Just sitting down and starting. I also like to pick out a scented candle for the mood of the piece. I have different scents I like for all my boys...

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? The aforementioned a/b/o, sex pollen, and monsterfucking for sure.

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested? I mean, I don’t take requests. But I still would like to write more Jack someday. Or maybe an Oberyn piece. I have a feeling Dieter is in my near future....

15) How long have you been writing fan fiction? Actually posting it...a year now.

16) Did you read fan fiction before you started writing? Oh yes. I started in college.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? I have an AO3 and I’ve posted a lot of my stuff there, not all yet.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of "Drabble", "One shots" and "fics"? Drabbles are around 500-700 words. One-shots are anything that isn’t multi-chapter and can include drabbles. Fic is all.

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? hahahaha I always seem to start off with a one-shot and it becomes a multi-chapter so...whoops.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why? No. I have a couple that haven’t been updated in a long time, but I really love them and want to continue them.

21) What is one of your main "pet-peeves" as a writer on Tumblr? Seeing writers get anonymous hate. Everyone’s just here to have a good time, there’s really no need for that.

22) Do you write a particular time of day? In the evening after the SO is in bed is best. This is usually 10pm - 2 or 3am. The house is quiet and I can light all the smelly candles I want.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc to write or do you need silence? Sometimes I’ll throw on the movie soundtrack or choose an appropriate soundscape video on youtube. But mostly it’s silence.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? Not intentionally. I always have an idea of what I want the main plot to be and can usually just sit and write. But I don’t always have the time to write when I get an idea, so I open a doc and start dumping ideas there--particular plot points, snatches of dialogue, links to references. Those usually start organizing themselves into a weird kind of beat-outline and the longer I have to wait to sit down and write that fic, the more I go and dump things in. Sometimes I will intentionally start a doc and let it sit for a while knowing that if I give myself time just to brainstorm for a week, I’ll eventually come up with something better than the og idea...

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? Nah. I generally post it when it’s ready, which is why I often post late at night.

no pressure and all love tagging (with request to start a new post if you partake): @writeforfandoms @grogusmum @insomniamamma @feathersandfoxtails @leslie-lyman @honestly-shite @songsformonkeys @littlemisspascal

#tag games

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silverandebony · 3 years

Link

Words: 14804 Fandom: Damar Series - Robin McKinley Rating: Teen And Up Audience Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Aerin, Luthe, Maur

Additional Tags: did this have to be anywhere near as angst-filled as it is? no, but they say do what you’re good at and i’m apparently good at angst so, hey aerin why are you going to a musical instead of therapy, content warning for aerin’s less than stellar mental health, maur gets a content warning too, whoops, Dissociation, Angst, Musicals, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, I Wrote This Instead Of Sleeping, on multiple occasions, don’t be like me kids, Whump

Summary: Centuries after the events of The Hero and the Crown, when much of Aerin's tale has fallen to legend and myth and little is remembered of her true life, Teka's journals are discovered in a long hidden room of the castle. From the journals is published a biography of Aerin's life, leading to a revival of the still present legend. From this comes a musical titled Aerin Fire-hair, as yet another retelling of the tale.

Well, thinks Aerin, it could be interesting to see. And I haven't been keeping track of the legends; it will be good to know what comes of this.

---

@damarcore

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citrus-cactus · 3 years

Text

Finished the story of Psychonauts 2 last week! It was really good. Like, REALLY, really good. I don’t have anything profound to say, but here are my thoughts if you wanna read ‘em. Obviously there are SPOILERS BELOW, so click at your own risk if you haven’t played into post-game! (FWIW, I HIGHLY recommend playing this game as spoiler-free as possible. And play the original, while you’re at it!).

Here’s a pretty tame spoiler that I don’t think anyone will mind me sharing though: RAZ IS A CUTE. JUST LOOK AT HIM:

Things I appreciated:

Raz asking permission before entering almost every brain

PET THE GOATS

BOBBY DANCE

Getting to see Whispering Rock a couple of different ways! Actually, the theme of showing events from multiple perspectives (and the different forms of trauma resulting from certain events) was really good.

Raz helping the Psychic Seven help themselves. The game is so gentle with these old damaged hippies. SO GOOD.

QUEEPIE AND FRAZIE and just… all the Aquatos, man. What a group.

The family being given space to grieve together (important) before yeeting their middle boy into the whirlpool (badass). And them still having a lot to unpack/figure out post-game. It’s complicated, man! Of COURSE they wouldn’t have it all figured out yet!

Larry and Pam! LOL.

SAM BOOLE, WTH. Best dialogue tree in the game??? XDDDD

WHOMST in-universe put the graffiti on the back side of the funicular? Oleander?? :O

I have not finished the Scavenger Hunt yet, so idk if Raz gets his clothes back. I’m betting not *shakes psychic fist at Norma* XD

Powers and combat were all really cool!

ANIMATION! ALSO!! REALLY!!! GOOD!!!!!

I’M STILL LOSING MY DANG MIND OVER RAZ’S ARCHETYPE, good god. Double Fine, you mad geniuses, how DARE you stage a Zim/Gir reunion in the year 2021??? If anyone has ever equipped the pin that mutes that delightful little paper lad, I cannot emphasize enough how dead you are to me XD

I thought Cassie sounded a little like Mona Marshall?? The credits proved me wrong, but there were several moments I thought “…maybe??” (I have a much easier time ID’ing her when she’s playing a boyish character than a woman, whoops!)

So much symbolism in the brains! “Subtle” is maybe the wrong word to use, but between some of the throwaway dialogue, the different subsections in each, and the different set designs, most of the mental states just felt more… complex? nuanced? than the first game.

I don’t actually know if I could pick a favorite level! Compton’s Cookoff was definitely the most unique (I would have appreciated the option to try the food challenges again, but “getting the best time” is obviously NOT THE POINT, so kudos to the game making it about the story/character and not about the player here!), and I really enjoyed the paper-and-book-aesthetic of Cassie’s! Bob’s boss battle was one of the most poignant, but the 60’s psychedelic aesthetic and Nona’s different layers were really creative and fun. I also liked that we got a few different styles for Raz (especially in the 2D sections!) but I always could have used more!

On that note though, CENSORS! IN!! SEQUINS!!! XDDDDDDD

THE MUSIC!!! My husband and I JUST realized that Peter McConnell scored the Sly Cooper series as well, so we have newfound RESPECT and AWE for this guy’s ability to write absolutely fantastic music in so many distinct styles and genres. Both of the songs w/ lyrics also slap.

The return/spiritual successor of Goggalor (Pootie-lor???). Amazing. Incredible. Did not expect it, loved it for how narratively important it was. The ending in general just made me quite emotional.

The post-game conversation between Truman and Lilli. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it absolutely RADIATES Tim Schafer dad/real-life daughter energy.

The Grulovia level was a really interesting way to introduce a villain. Based on every level previous, I was actually prepared for the game to offer some sympathetic facet of Gristol (such as finding out the ride was something he had been conditioned to think from a lifetime of hearing an idealized version of the story from his parents, and it was somewhere he would go to rationalize his actions despite not really believing them… or something), but obviously the longer you spend there, the more you realize it’s something he constructed himself, and he is actually delusional (er, delugional) about Maligula and his family’s legacy. Really sets up an interesting parallel with Raz, in a way. Gristol’s mental state is essentially that of a child… but Raz is an ACTUAL child, and demonstrates more maturity, empathy and understanding than both Gristol the kid (see the Mental Vaults) and Gristol the adult. Kind of amazing he was able to fool a whole building full of psychics for as long as he did (and I guess he was a fine mail clerk too??), but tl;dr I like how the game’s “true” villain is the only one who is unable to change/experience any sort of remorse for his actions (maybe the jury’s still out on Dr. Loboto though XD)

A little concerned that Hollis said Gristol’s fate was to be “experimentation,” and only corrected to say “therapy” when questioned by Raz. UM. This game does make it part of its point showing us the flaws in the Psychonauts, both as an organization and as individuals, leaving them in a bit of a mortally grey area (who are clearly mismanaging their resources if they have a whole Motherlobe of agents doing who-knows-what and their primary source of funding is running summer camps for psychic children). I am… definitely concerned about what Hollis said (as well as Otto’s assertion that he would be picking up where the Seven left off!), but I guess I can accept it as part of the theme that no one and nothing is perfect. Maybe that’s sequel fodder though??? (hey, I can dream about Psychonauts 3, can’t I? XD)

Genuinely though, I’m just… SO PROUD OF RAZ. He’s going to be such a good agent someday!!!*cries forever over one begoggled psychic acrobat son boy*

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #double fine #the cactus speaks #video james

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Text

’tis the damn season

an Auston Matthews song fic

a/n: based on the absolute masterpiece that is ’tis the damn season by Taylor Swift from evermore. This one was not on my WIP list but came over me as soon as I heard the song when the album dropped. also have no idea how it became my longest piece yet, by far (as in 12k+ whoops). obviously, I do not own any of the music/lyrics to this song nor any other I write about.

summary: Auston Matthews and his ex-girlfriend are reunited in their hometown years after their difficult breakup.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sex, a delicate balance of angst and fluff. a bit of a slow burn, if you want to call it that.

_____

You might have been one of the few people on the planet who disagreed with the phrase, “There’s no place like home for the holidays.” At least, for the last few years, that hadn’t exactly been your sentiment.

But, you were home anyway, after a few weeks of your mother’s guilt tripping and your father’s repeated phone calls. And, admittedly, you were enjoying your quiet time at home with your parents.

After helping your mom bake a few dozen cookies for the Christmas Eve party they were throwing tomorrow night, you wandered upstairs to your childhood bedroom to change out of your flour-covered attire and maybe squeeze in a nap. An undeniable perk of staying with your parents during the holidays — so many opportunities to sleep. As you pulled on a well-worn, long-sleeved ASU t-shirt you found hanging in your closet, your phone rang.

You groaned and swore to yourself that if it was your editor again, you were quitting. She’d already interrupted your time off at least once throughout each of your three days at home thus far — your first week of vacation in the two and a half years you’d been with the fashion magazine. You rolled your eyes and reached for the sounding device on your bed, then recoiled when you saw the contact name — or rather, initials — on the screen.

Oh, god.

Even worse, the years-old contact photo popped up behind the name — a picture of the two of you lying together on the shore on your vacation four years ago, right after the draft, when you both still held onto the naive belief that nothing that had just happened in his world would change things between the two of you.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth while anxiety coursed through your veins.

You couldn’t just not answer. Right? The two of you were on decent terms, though you couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d spoken — probably seven, eight months ago. You had no good reason to ignore his call.

And after all... you were the one who had ended things.

You cleared your throat and, trying to coach yourself into mustering up some semblance of courage, quickly repeated, “Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Then, like ripping off a bandaid, you hurriedly tapped the green button and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Matthews,” you greeted curtly — tentatively.

“Kels. Come over,” Auston said abruptly, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you’re home.”

You squinted and glanced around your room, racking your brain as you tried to figure out how exactly your ex-boyfriend knew your current whereabouts.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, not to mention slightly shocked that he was even interested in seeing you in person — though some part of you was, indeed, grateful for that. “How did you even know I was in Scottsdale?”

“Uh, your Instagram story, my dear,” he said, obviously amused. “You posted this morning from that new coffee shop between the Methodist church and our old school building. Remember?”

You rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly regretting adding him to your close friends list on Instagram six weeks ago after a few glasses of wine with your girlfriends.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, eliciting a chuckle from Auston.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself thinking I sit around and stalk you, sweetheart,” he teased. “I thought about replying but I didn’t wanna slide into your DMs and look like a fuckboy.” He paused, and you opened your mouth to make a halfhearted wisecrack that you didn’t truly mean, but before you could speak, he added, “Plus you probably get so many DMs, I’m sure mine would just get lost in the shuffle.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Matthews,” you repeated, whinier now.

“C’mon, Kels. Just come over,” he whined back. “I just got in last night. I’m staying at my parents’ house. My sisters nearly busted down my door when they saw you were back in town, plus I know my mom and dad would love to see you.”

Suddenly, two decades’ worth of memories that you had long ago pushed to the back of your mind flooded all at once to the forefront of your consciousness. Sleepovers watching Disney Channel movies and eating peach rings with Alex and Brey. Brian scooping you up in his arms after a nasty tumble off your bike on their street, propping you on the kitchen counter as he bandaged the scrapes on your knees, Auston never leaving your side nor letting go of your hand. Road trips with Ema to watch Auston play in countless tournaments, with you doing homework in the front seat while Ema sang along to the radio. Matthews family dinners eating Ema’s famous chicken tortilla soup. Vacations and carpool and pickup basketball games and shopping for prom dresses and just the mundane, everyday routine you had been part of for so many years.

And those were just the memories that involved his sisters, his parents. You didn’t dare let your mind uncover the buried memories of him, and him alone.

You missed them. Sometimes you missed them all so much that it made your heart physically ache and your stomach drop and your mouth go dry.

So, you drew a long, deep breath, and against your better judgment, eventually said, “Okay. Fine. But you have to send me your parents’ address. I haven’t been to the new Matthews McMansion.”

Auston huffed on the other end. “So mean to me.”

_____

It was certainly a far cry from the modest old ranch-style house where Auston had spent his childhood.

As you pulled up to the sprawling estate in the bougie part of town and cut your engine, you whispered, “What the fuck am I doing here...”

And still, after a quick check of your makeup in your rearview mirror, you got out of the car, closed your door and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, sighing as you took in the four vehicles parked in front of yours in the roundabout driveway, none of which you had ever seen before. Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. Well, you could guess which one was Auston’s.

You walked up the stone sidewalk and slipped your aviators into your purse — it was only then that you noticed that your hands were trembling.

You cleared your throat and exhaled sharply, willing your nerves to subside, as you arrived at the door and pressed the button on its frame, sounding an elaborate chime inside.

“I got it,” you immediately heard a familiar voice call, and you took a startled step backward as you saw his figure approaching through the decorative glass panes outlining the doorway. As he pulled open the door, the flutter you’d tried your hardest to avoid feeling for three years took flight once more in your belly.

“Matthews,” you greeted again, arms crossed in front of you in hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“Why’d ya bother to ring the doorbell, you nutjob?” Auston asked with a broad smile.

Before you could throw a snide remark back at him, he pulled you into himself, one arm snaking around your mid-back and the other hand cradling your head to his chest. Inadvertently, you exhaled contentedly, and you swore you felt Auston tighten his grip on you then. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself relax into him for longer than you had intended. He just felt so… familiar. Broad. Strong. Comforting.

He was just… Auston. A thousand things had changed for the two of you, but the way you felt in his presence hadn’t changed since you were a little girl.

You inhaled his cologne, and you noticed that he was doing just the same — breathing in your long-worn Chanel No. 5 perfume, the same kind he used to save up all year to buy you each Christmas.

At that memory, you snapped back to reality and extricated yourself from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly disappointed, though still pleased with your greeting.

“Hi,” you spoke simply as you stared up at him, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded.

“Hi,” he mimicked, head bobbling and eyes widening, causing you both to fall into a giddy fit of nervous laughter over nothing at all.

Just then, you saw Ema’s head pop out from beneath an arched opening toward the back of the house — probably leading to the kitchen, you assumed. Ema was always in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard your laugh,” she sang. You couldn’t help but beam, and Auston smiled and moved out of your way so that you had a direct pathway to his mother. Taking advantage of that, you made a beeline for the petite woman you considered your second mom, already feeling emotion bubbling up in your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“Oh, mija,” Ema said, her voice tight as she met you in the middle of the grand entryway and gathered you into her arms. “Te extrañamos,” (we miss you) she said sincerely.

Auston cupped the back of his neck and quickly looked away then, fearful that he may just shed tears of his own.

You sniffled and murmured, “Los extrañé a todos mucho,” (I missed you all so much) into Ema’s shoulder as she smoothed her hand lovingly over the back of your head.

When you finally parted, moving past the brief sadness of the reunion, Ema still held tightly to your hands, extending her arms so that she could see you better.

“You look more beautiful than ever!” she exclaimed, and you dropped your head bashfully at her compliment. “California is treating you well.”

You nodded. “For the most part,” you remarked with a sigh. Ema glanced quickly from your face to her son’s and back again, deciding not to dwell for too long on that loaded response.

“Well,” she pivoted with a click of her tongue. “You look great. Now come, come! I know Auston’s going to want to steal you away from me, not that I blame him, but I just put on some tea, so let’s sit and have some first.”

“Ma…” Auston protested lightheartedly. Ema wagged her finger at him. “Shh! Mijo! My long lost daughter has returned. Give me ten minutes for a cup of tea with her.”

Auston’s lips parted at her use of the word “daughter,” not that he should have been surprised by it, and you tossed him an animated shrug as Ema pulled you down the hallway back from whence she came. You were right — it was the kitchen, and it was a spectacular one at that.

“Holy…” you trailed off as Ema patted one of the leather barstools at the enormous island in the center of the room. You took a seat, pulling your cross body bag from your shoulder and placing it on the island, and commented, “This kitchen is incredible, Ema. I’m sure you love spending time here.”

Ema nodded and excitedly launched into stories of using all the appliances and gadgets she had never owned before, walking back to the teakettle on the stove as Auston sat down on the nearest barstool, feeling as though he could simply be dreaming, hallucinating, that you were here, sitting with him in his parents’ kitchen. But when you noticed him taking the seat next to yours, you tossed him a classic Kelsey smile and nudged his shoulder with your own, and he felt just slightly more confident that this was reality. Unable to resist your magnetism, which hadn’t faded with time but seemed instead to have only grown stronger, he squeezed your knee beneath the countertop, just as Ema approached with a cup of tea in hand for you.

Choosing to react instead to Ema rather than her son, you grinned and thanked her, feeling Auston’s eyes on you as you lifted the mug to your lips and took small sips, Ema still prattling on happily from the other side of the kitchen. You eventually cast a sidelong glance Auston’s way, accompanied by an amused smirk, the combination of which left him beaming as he looked away from you and back toward his mother, who now approached with two more cups of tea.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him.

“You’re welcome, mijo,” Ema replied. “Now Kelsey, honey, how long are you in town?”

“Uh, just until the day after Christmas,” you replied, swirling a finger along the ceramic rim of your mug. “This is the most time I’ve taken off since I started at the magazine,” you admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Ema nodded. “Your mother said you haven’t made it home for a while. I know they keep you pretty busy there. Is that why you don’t visit so much?” she asked unassumingly.

Auston dropped his head and shuffled his feet awkwardly against the tile floor, and your eyes flickered to him as you racked your brain for an answer that wasn’t a complete lie but also didn’t unmask the whole truth — which was that being in a town that held so much history with your ex was simply too suffocating to bear, even for a quick visit with your parents. So, you typically just stayed in California where you could throw yourself into your work as a fashion writer at a well-known publication and operate under the illusion that you had moved on. From Scottsdale, from Auston, from your life before Los Angeles.

And especially from Toronto.

But the problem was, when the night fell and the lights all faded and you were left to face the truth, you knew in your heart that that’s really all it was — an illusion.

And from 2,500 miles away, Auston knew it, too. He knew it because he was living the same lie.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied sheepishly. “That’s the gist of it. Just, uh, just hard to get away sometimes. My parents usually come out to visit me instead since their schedules are, uh, a little more flexible.”

“Right,” Ema said skeptically as you took a long pull from your mug, despite the hot liquid singing your tongue and making your eyes water. “Well, either way, it’s so good to finally see you here,” she added warmly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathed, honesty dripping from that answer.

Auston finally looked at you again, giving you an understanding smile. Even that smallest of gestures made you dizzy.

“So,” you said as you moved away from the topic, sitting up a bit straighter. “Where are the girls? Where’s Brian?”

“Golfing,” Auston answered. “Like always,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?” you teased, making both Ema and Auston laugh.

“They begged Auston to come with them, but he turned them down,” Ema informed you. “And now we know why.” She lifted her eyebrows and took another sip of her tea as Auston shook his head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he joked. “But no, they’ll be back soon. They can’t wait to see you.”

You brightened at that, not having seen the Matthews girls in nearly as long as it had been since you’d seen Auston himself, finding it easier to breathe when they weren’t nearby, reminding you of him with their every mannerism. And yet, you’d found that starving yourself of their friendship and their company ached nearly just as much.

“I can’t wait either,” you said through a distant smile.

“And Dad will probably cry more than Mom did when he sees you,” Auston predicted, lifting his mug. Ema swatted at his arm.

“Don’t start with me!” she warned. “I happened to see you choking up out there, too.”

You turned to Auston and raised an accusing brow at him. He simply chuckled into his tea and looked away, and the three of you sat in silence for a beat.

“Come on,” he finally said as he rested his mug on the island, nodding his head in the direction of the sliding glass door at the back of the house. “Lemme show you the patio.”

You nodded, knowing full well that showing off the backyard was not the real reason he was inviting you outside. Despite that knowledge, you hopped off the barstool, put your mug in the sink, and kissed Ema on the cheek as you passed her.

“Thanks for the tea, mamacita,” you said with a smile, squeezing her shoulders. “Anytime, mi amor,” she replied, sending a wink your way as you turned to follow Auston.

He slid open the door and motioned for you to step through it first. When he saw his mother watching you through the kitchen window, he gave her a knowing smirk, and she put her hands up in innocence. But as she watched you two walk out onto the patio through the glass, she breathed a silent prayer to any higher power who would listen that maybe, just maybe, you would finally come home.

Not to Scottsdale, no. Home to Auston.

Meanwhile, you were trailing your hand along the hammock near the pool, taking in the scene and trying to remember to breathe. When you heard him close the door, you turned back to Auston, your eyes floating around the backyard.

“Nice setup they’ve got back here,” you grinned, Auston chuckling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“Yeah, it’s even nicer in the summer,” he commented. You nodded, stepping closer to the pool and lowering yourself to sit on the edge, patting the space next to you as an invitation for Auston to do the same.

“We have chairs, ya know,” he grumbled as he took a seat. “Not all of us like to sit on the floor all day doing yoga.”

You sneered at him. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I do all day long,” you said sarcastically.

“Well, you used to, anyway,” he mumbled.

You gulped as visions of him watching you do precarious yoga poses on the living room floor of his apartment flickered in your mind’s eye, and then, once again, you moved right along.

“So… how’s it going, Matthews? How’s life?” you prompted, not even sure if you truly wanted to hear the answer to your inquiry.

He stretched out his long legs so that his feet were dangling above the water as he wondered where to even begin.

“It’s… it’s good,” he said. “Overall. It’s nice to be home for a few days. Needed that. I missed it. Missed my family. Missed…” he stopped himself, “…other things,” he added under his breath.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and decided to avoid the path he was taking this down. “How’s hockey?” you asked instead.

Auston shifted noticeably at the mention of his career, still painfully aware that, despite the successes it had brought him, it had ultimately caused the demise of your relationship.

“Hockey is… hockey,” he said. “Honestly it’s good on the whole. But the team’s not having the greatest year so far, which is rough.” You nodded, knowing better than most that the Toronto media operated at a different level of intensity and scrutiny than that of nearly all other markets, especially when the Leafs were losing, and especially when new blood was added into the equation, like Auston’s had been when they drafted him.

Like yours had been when you moved there with him.

The spotlight they shone on you — and the subsequent attention you received from so-called fans who took to the internet to question your intentions and integrity — had been far more than you bargained for.

Just as you were about to ask about how the guys on the team were faring, Auston spoke again.

“I think about calling you every time we come to LA, Kels,” he said, fixing his eyes on the neighbor’s house in the distance because he was simply unable to look at you while he admitted it. With a sniff, he added, “I’m not gonna lie about that.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked after a beat, maybe unfairly, studying his familiar profile. His features were the same, of course, but he looked… more mature. Older. Wiser. All that jazz. Auston shrugged, still not capable of looking at you.

“Just didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered dejectedly. Your heart sank into your stomach. Given the things you’d said when you left him nearly three years ago, you could hardly blame him for that one.

“Well,” you started with a sigh. “I guess we could call it even then, because I think about coming to see you play every time you come to LA. Or Anaheim. Or even Vegas. And obviously Phoenix.”

“Well why didn’t you just call me asking for free tickets then,” he said in a tone that he tried to disguise as facetious, but you heard the hurt seeping into his words. “Everybody else I know in any NHL city does.”

You felt a fierce sense of protectiveness then, clenching your jaw as you tried to calm your irate thoughts. You watched him pick at the sleeve of his black Raiders crewneck and felt deeply for him — this man you’d loved since he was a little boy.

“Do they really? Still?” you asked in monotone.

Auston nodded, squinting in the sunlight. “Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’ “Every game.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, covering your eyes with your hand and pushing into your temples. You blew out a long breath. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I… it just sucks.”

Auston shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he stated. “Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t. Kinda depends on whether the person’s actually talked to me lately.”

You nodded as he chuckled sadly, and you felt your chest tighten. “Well,” you began, clearing your throat. “I guess I wouldn’t qualify then because we haven’t talked much.”

Auston looked at you with intensity surging in his deep brown eyes, and you wanted to look away but found that you couldn’t.

“You always qualify,” he said seriously. “You’re one of the only people that qualifies.”

You bit down, hard, on your bottom lip and grappled internally with the weight of his comment. Then he said sarcastically, “Besides, I know you’re only after my money. I mean, you forced me to buy you that Louis bag the week after I got drafted.”

Your jaw dropped at his joke, and you scoffed indignantly. “Oh, yeah, the one you finally had to hide in my closet after I kept sneaking it back into your car because I wanted you to return it?” you corrected. “Yeah, ya caught me. You know me, Aus. Such a gold digger.”

Auston had started laughing halfway through your quip, but stopped suddenly. You gave him a questioning look, and he paused before answering.

“You called me Aus,” he stated with a smile he tried and failed to hide. “You went back to calling me Matthews after we broke up. But you… you just called me Aus again.”

“Yeah, well...” you grumbled, “Don’t get too excited.” You tossed him a smirk and he mirrored it, basking in the comfort of the moment.

“So whaddya think of the place? Not bad, right?” he finally asked, glancing around the property, back at the house, then settling his focus back on you.

You shrugged. “A little gaudy for my taste, but...” you began, and Auston shook his head bemusedly, knowing he set himself up for that one.

“No, it’s great. I can see how much your mom loves it. In all seriousness, I think it’s amazing, everything you’ve done for your family. Your parents. It’s pretty incredible,” you said earnestly. “I don’t think I said it enough when we were together, but, I’m really proud of you, Aus. And I don’t just mean about the hockey.”

Auston nodded soberly, turning his head to look you in the eye.

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Kels. It means a lot coming from you. More, uh… more than you know.”

And then, before you could think twice about doing so, you reached out your hand to rest atop his, feeling its familiar warmth as your fingertips grazed the raised veins there. Auston swallowed hard, blinking at where your hands now met, and slowly wrapped your fingers in his, giving them a squeeze. You exchanged long stares before you eventually slammed on the brakes in your brain and carried on.

“So, you just casually hang out with Justin Bieber now?” you asked, reaching your palms behind you and leaning back. “And the wildest shit is that I saw it first when he posted it, not you.”

Auston chuckled, looking down at his slides and — ironically — Drew socks combo. In his signature way, he halted his laughter on a dime and his face turned somber as he said dryly, “Yeah, I’m like really famous now, yanno?”

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you looked skyward, feeling Auston’s gaze turn to you. You let it go for a few moments before shifting only your eyes toward his.

“What?” you asked accusingly. You could tell by the faraway smirk on his face that he was lost in a memory.

“Remember you had posters of him hung up all over your room in like middle school? From Tiger Beat magazine and shit? And now I play video games and mini sticks with the guy,” Auston said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and if you ever tell him about that, I’ll end your life,” you threatened, shoving at his arm and attempting to ignore how much his biceps had grown since you last touched them. And then you were slamming the door shut on a rush of memories of having him beneath your touch — some innocent, but most intimate.

Auston saw it in your eyes — the place you went for a moment — as you dropped your hand back to the concrete beneath you. He knew where you went because, so often, he went there, too.

He held your gaze and promised, “Your secret’s safe with me. You know that.”

Only a hint of a smile graced your lips for a fleeting moment as you ran your fingers through your hair. Suddenly, you felt the heaviness of the history between the two of you closing in — smothering you, like it always did. Auston watched helplessly, wishing it didn’t have to be this hard.

And then, in a flash, like he so often did to save you from your swirling thoughts, he casually changed the topic as he commented, “Your hair’s shorter. You look like your mom. In a good way.”

Blushing, you breathed a laugh through your nose. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I think it’s the highlights, too.”

“It is,” Auston confirmed, and then — damn him — he reached out and looped a lock from the front of your face between his thumb and forefinger, the way he had done a thousand times before, usually mid-conversation, always absentmindedly. This time, you knew, as you forced your eyes to meet his, it was a bit more calculated. “I really like it,” he told you.

You nodded, searching his eyes to try and determine whether he had any idea what this — this moment, this visit, this day — really was.

“If you’re gonna ask me what we’re doing,” Auston spoke, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “then I have to tell you I have no idea.”

Again, damn him. After all this time, it was like he still lived inside your brain and had read your every thought like the morning paper before you even had the chance to convey it. Which used to save you in a lot of ways. Now it felt kind of… intrusive. But somehow you didn’t mind.

“I had no idea what I was even gonna say when I called you. All I know,” he continued, still flipping the strand of hair around his fingers, “is that I really wanted to see you, and that I was really happy when you came, and that I’m really enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded, and as he pulled his hand from your face, his thumb brushed your jawline just slightly, and that touch alone sent a bolt of lightning through you. Auston smiled softly as he said barely above a whisper, “Okay, now it’s your turn to say something.”

You heaved a sigh, tipping your head back with eyes closed and soaking in the sunshine. “I don’t expect you to know, Aus,” you finally spoke. “I was just so... so shocked, I guess, that you wanted to see me. It’s been so long, I just... I didn’t know when I would see you again.”

“We’ve talked though,” Auston pointed out with a sigh to match yours, pulling a knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around his bent leg. “FaceTimed. Texted.”

You rolled your head toward him. “It’s not the same,” you reasoned softly, hesitantly reaching out your hand to tuck some of his black hair behind his ear. He licked his lips swiftly and placed a peck to your thumb before you slowly withdrew your hand.

“You’re right,” Auston conceded. “Definitely not the same.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt...”

You were snapped out of your private moment by one person’s voice and another person’s squeal behind you.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled as you shot up from the side of the pool, Alexandria and Breyana already scampering toward you from the back door.

“It’s about goddamn time you came back to us!” Alex shrieked, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I missed you, little sister,” she cooed, rubbing her hands across your back, and you hummed in agreement.

“I missed you, Al,” you replied, kissing her temple as you stepped back to greet the youngest of the Matthews clan.

“And you. My baby!” you exclaimed, pulling Breyana into your arms. “The true star athlete of the family,” you teased as she squeezed your waist.

“Damn straight,” Breyana giggled. “I missed you, Kels. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You pulled away, glancing behind you as you saw Auston slowly approaching out of the corner of your eye. “Me either,” you admitted, eyes widening dramatically as the girls snickered at you. “How was golf?”

“Brey smoked us, no surprise,” Alex replied. “But shut up about the golf. Tell us what’s going on with you two.”

“Alex!” Auston warned, shooting her a glare. “Please don’t.”

Alex gave him her best older sister roll of the eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as Breyana looked between the two of you.

“Nope,” Alex refused. “Not until you tell me what’s up. C’mon, spill.”

“We’re just...” you began, swiveling to look Auston’s way as he smirked down at you, happy to let you flounder in this one all on your own. “Visiting,” you finished, nodding once at Alex, pleased with your choice of verbiage.

“Honestly, you guys…” Breyana lamented.

“Visiting, huh?” Alex echoed, growing even more suspicious. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Wear protection. Anyways, uh—“

“Alex!” Auston repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I swear to god...”

“Anyways, like I was saying,” Alex continued. “Your parents invited us all to their house tomorrow night for the Christmas party. I didn’t think you were gonna be there — does this mean you will?”

You nodded, causing Alex to clap excitedly. “I’ll be there with bells on,” you confirmed. “I already made my shortbread cookies.” All three siblings moaned in delight at the mention of your famous treats.

“Hell yeah! Plus that means we won’t be the only ones escaping to the balcony to drink,” Breyana commented.

“Brey, you’re like twelve,” Auston taunted, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger sister. “You don’t get to drink with us.”

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Like you guys weren’t sneaking Mom and Dad’s liquor when you were younger than me.”

“Anyways,” Alex said yet again, clearing her throat. “We’re gonna go back inside now and shower, and just, uh, leave you guys to whatever it is you were doing beside the pool there. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. See ya,” she sang, spinning Breyana by the shoulders and guiding her inside, both girls whispering and giggling all the while. “Kels, I’ll call you tonight — you can tell me all about it!” Alex called over her shoulder, sliding the door closed.

You turned to see a pink tinge to Auston’s cheeks as he muttered, “Sorry,” with a dry laugh. You shook your head.

“No, don’t be,” you insisted, waving him off as you took a seat at the glass picnic table beside you, Auston following your lead. “It wouldn’t be a visit to the Matthews house without Alex torturing the both of us,” you teased.

Auston nodded. “Very true,” he said, and you knew he didn’t want to stop there, but he couldn’t seem to find what he did want to say next.

Instead, you ventured, “So what are your—”

At the very same time, he started, “Kels, would you maybe—”

You both chuckled at yourselves, locking eyes. This certainly wasn’t the first time this had happened in conversations — far from it. And usually, you were about to say the very same thing.

So, you motioned for him to speak first.

He toyed with the band of his watch as he said nervously, “I was just gonna say, uh, would you maybe wanna go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

You sat back in your chair, smirking, fully aware that you were teetering on a damn fine line.

“I was hoping you might say that.”

_____

An hour later, after reuniting with Brian (Auston was right — he cried more than the rest of his family combined when he hugged you), you headed home to change for dinner. As you pulled away from the Matthews house, you were thankful that Auston had offered to follow you in his own vehicle so that he could drive you to dinner, which in turn gave each of you a few minutes to breathe.

Surprisingly, your mother didn’t seem at all shocked to see the guest you had brought back with you. You had told her that you were going to visit the Matthews’, not specifying which member of the family had invited you, though she could venture a guess. When she watched two vehicles pull into the driveway side by side, she inhaled an excited gasp, a smile overwhelming her features as she came to meet you at the front door, just as you laughed at a lame joke Auston cracked about your driving.

Your mother nearly tackled him in a hug, which he warmly returned. He shared a similar bond with your mom to the one you shared with his, which was yet another piece that fit perfectly into the puzzle that was your relationship. So many pieces fit, and so few didn’t, but that still didn’t make things whole.

But, you ignored that thought — and so many others — as you left the two to chat, bounding up the stairs to change, now grateful that you’d brought more than one nice option to wear to the Christmas party tomorrow, considering the rest of your suitcase was filled with comfy loungewear.

How could you have ever planned for this?

After touching up your hair and makeup and putting on the more understated of the dressy outfits you’d brought, you returned to the kitchen where your mom and Auston stood huddled at the counter, near empty glasses of red wine in front of them both.

“Already boozin’, huh?” you teased as you folded your arms in front of you. They chuckled, and Auston glanced at you over his shoulder with a smile. When he laid eyes on you, though, he stood straight up and turned to face you, making no attempt to hide his stare, even in front of your mother. Without taking his gaze off of you, he threw back his final sip of wine and blew out a flustered breath. You knew you were blushing, so you walked past him to your mother, pressing your cheek to hers for an air kiss so as not to mess up your lipstick.

“Sorry to take your favorite boy away from you, but we should head out,” you announced as you looked back at Auston. He cleared his throat, walking to the other side of the countertop to hug your mom again, thanking her for the wine and something else that you didn’t quite catch.

He followed you down the hall, his hand ghosting along the small of your back as you reached for your purse on the coat rack. You looked back and blew a final kiss to your mom, who waved as she watched Auston open the passenger door of his car and help you in — both of you giggling as you crouched into the low-riding vehicle in your skirt and high heels. Like a mom of a young teen, she stood at the window and watched the two of you drive down the block and out of sight, hands clasped together wistfully as she turned back to finish placing the final decorative touches in the living room ahead of tomorrow.

Just a minute later, your dad came through the door from the grocery store, calling for her, sounding nearly breathless.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, smoothing the silk ribbon wrapped around the banister.

“Marie… did I just see Auston driving Kelsey down the road in a Porsche?” he gaped, his brow furrowed, thumb pointed over his shoulder.

She laughed, looking downward as she nodded.

“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, then looked at him as she felt tears welling. “Jack... I can’t say for sure, but I think maybe the girl is finally coming to her senses.”

A smile spread slowly across your father’s face and he came toward your mother, wrapping her in a hug.

“Well…” he began, kissing her temple. “Then maybe we’ll get our Christmas wish after all.”

“And what’s that?” your mom asked.

“For her to be happy again.”

_____

“You look amazing, Kels,” Auston said seriously from the driver’s seat. “Gorgeous.”

You gave him a coy smile and briefly inspected the outfit he’d chosen before leaving his own parents’ house.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Auston grinned and decided he would take that.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to the restaurant you had already known he’d had in mind when he asked you to dinner, without even needing to discuss it. The same Italian restaurant where you’d celebrated infinite birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Days, and other milestones. You fell into easy conversation during drinks and appetizers before Auston told a comical story about his teammates which led to an in that he knew he needed to take.

“They miss you, you know,” Auston stated cautiously between bites of his shrimp scampi. “Mo. Mitchy. Especially Steph.”

You folded and unfolded the seams of the cloth napkin in your lap, considering your response.

“I miss them, too,” you eventually murmured. “So be real with me. You really like it there now?” you leveled with him.

His demeanor shifted — in a good way — as he replied. “It’s honestly great. I mean, you’d love it there now, Kels. I swear,” Auston said, shaking his head in wonder. “’M not just saying that. I mean, the hype is still there, yes, but it’s not at the level it was when I first started. Mitchy and Mo and Willy and I, all us guys who kinda started out together, we’ve all sort of found our groove with the media and stuff, and for the most part, it’s great. I have a feeling it’ll just keep getting better, too.”

You watched his eyes light up as he spoke about Toronto, relief and happiness washing over you. It didn’t seem so long ago that Auston was curled up on the couch, near tears, head in your lap, feeling incapable of living up to the expectations set for him — almost buckling under the immense pressure, the likes of which he had never felt before.

You let out a teary chuckle, swiping at a teardrop on your cheek that had fallen as he answered, taking you by surprise.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Aus,” you told him, holding your hand over your heart as it soared within you.

Auston nodded slightly, and his lips twitched into a sad smile. “There’s still something that doesn’t feel right though,” he confessed, though it didn’t feel much like a secret. “Still something missing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked timidly as you lifted your wine glass, excited for and fearful of his answer at all once.

“You.”

Forcing yourself to swallow your merlot so you didn’t spray it across the table, you put your fist to your mouth, holding it there while you attempted to process his latest, and most brazen, admission.

“I mean… look, there have been a few others,” Auston continued with a mindless shrug. “But never anything serious, and never anyone that I’m not constantly comparing to you in every possible way,” he told you, rolling his fingertips on the table and focusing on his hand as he spoke. “Feel kinda bad actually, because I know they all thought it was something more than it really was, and then I was always the one to break things off. I didn’t purposely lead them on, I just... once I got into it, I realized my feelings just weren’t in it.”

You opened your mouth to speak, hands limp in your lap, and then closed your lips in a tight line as you mulled over his words. You inhaled a shuddering breath and looked down, feeling the same shame that had overcome you countless times before come back again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered without lifting your eyes.

“Kelsey…” Auston spoke firmly. “Look at me. Please.”

You did as he asked, lips pursed, and were met with his adoring, enchanting gaze, always too forgiving of your faults and mistakes.

“It’s okay,” he promised sincerely. “I understand. Trust me on that. I’ve always understood where you were coming from, but it seemed like there was just… just nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could do to make you stay, or to bring you back. That’s what made it so hard. That’s what still makes it so hard.”

You nodded. “Well — what you’re doing right now — whatever this is… it’s working,” you divulged, knowing this was a dangerous game and no longer caring.

“Is it?” Auston asked, a full-blown smile appearing now on his lips. Those lips you missed so damn much.

“Yeah,” you giggled, both of you grinning. “God, I missed your smile, Aus.”

“My smile?” he asked incredulously, then scoffed. “Your smile fucking breaks my heart, Kelsey,” he told you in his deepest tone, biting at the inside of his cheek as if he was trying not to lean across the table and kiss you full on the mouth right then and there.

And now, as you saw that look in his eye that you knew so well, you knew two things.

One, you were fucked. And two, you were in desperate need of a minute.

“I, uh, I gotta run to the ladies’ room,” you told him, standing, feeling unsteady as you pushed in your chair. Auston nodded knowingly and said, “Take all the time you need.”

You brushed a hand over his shoulder, the other holding tightly to your crossbody bag, as you attempted to walk in a straight line toward the restrooms across the restaurant floor. You were only one glass of wine deep, yet this night was making your head feel as fuzzy as if you’d just done a row of shots. Once safely inside the bathroom, you tossed your purse on the counter and held tightly to the sink to try and settle yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control your racing pulse.

Just then, you heard a toilet flush, and your sense of solitude was quickly shattered when you saw a familiar blonde figure step out of the bathroom and lean closer upon recognizing you.

“Kelsey!” she exclaimed, moving toward the sink.

“Holly! Oh, my god,” you laughed as you squeezed her upper arm.

“Here, let me wash my hands and then I’ll give you a real hug,” she promised as you both giggled.

You had been a cheerleader throughout high school, and Holly, a year your senior, had been captain the year before you took on the title. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you had always looked up to her, and you’d kept in touch for a couple of years after you graduated before mostly falling off, save for the occasional hype comment or story reply on social media.

“How are you, girl? You look gorgeous!” she said as she threw her arms around you.

“So do you! I’m doing well, thanks. Home for the holidays,” you offered as she stepped back and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s great! Me, too,” she replied, then smiled mischievously at you. “To be totally honest, uh… I saw you when you were being seated. I didn’t wanna be weird or like, intrude, or anything but… I saw you come in with Auston. Are you guys like… back together?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no,” you laughed nervously, feeling yourself blush under her questioning. “We’re not back together. Just, uh, just two old friends, uh, catching up, ya know?” you reasoned nonchalantly as you reached for your bag.

“Oh. Right. Well... ‘tis the damn season, am I right?” Holly said with a chuckle, her own cheeks slightly flushed as she feared maybe she had made you uncomfortable by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Right,” you nodded cordially, then took a step toward her and patted her hand, wanting to make sure she didn’t think you were upset by her comment. “It’s so good to see you, Hol. I’m gonna head back out there—“

“Kelsey, wait,” Holly said urgently, grasping your arm before you could turn away from her. You blinked at her several times, glancing between her grip and her face as you waited to hear what had gotten into her.

“I just have to tell you... for what it’s worth, you guys still look so happy together,” Holly said. “Even if that’s not what this is. I just... I wanted to tell you that. As someone who has known you both for a long time, Auston never smiles as much as he smiles when he’s with you. It’s just nice to see.”

You gaped at your old friend, speechless, and she scrunched her nose at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross the line, I just...” she trailed off.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to act casual. “No, no. Not at all. It’s okay. Thank you, for telling me. I just, I gotta run,” you said, leaning in to hug her again. “Bye, Hol. Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kels. See you around,” She smiled as you moved toward the bathroom door. With one last polite nod at her, you exited and escaped to your seat.

As you reached the table, you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out and running your hand along the back of Auston’s neck and affectionately trailing your fingertips over the short hair there, as you had done for so many years when approaching him and sidling up to him. Instead, you smoothed your hand over your dress and sighed as Auston turned his head to look at you, grinning as he watched you sit.

“You get lost?” he teased. You chuckled, throwing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Something like that,” you muttered, immediately reaching for your glass of wine, which you could tell had been refilled in your absence. Auston hummed in acknowledgement as you took a long sip, watching you all the while.

“One more glass and then we get outta here?” Auston suggested as you set the glass down. You only nodded.

_____

“Remember when you had that old truck, with the tires that were always muddy, and we used to just ride around Scottsdale all night long?” you asked Auston, both of you reminiscing about days gone by after leaving the restaurant.

Auston nodded, running his pointer finger across his upper lip, the other hand on the wheel, as he watched the memory projecting in his mind.

“‘Course I do,” he told you, and you didn’t miss the way his tone changed when he did, making you smirk.

“So, where to next?” you prodded. “Back to Casa de Matthews?”

He shrugged ambiguously, but secretly, he knew just what he wanted to do. “We could just ride around. Like we used to. If you want. I mean, there’s no real reason for us to rush back to our parents’ houses, right?” he said with a snicker.

This could get messy as the mud on the truck tires, you thought, but your response was already tumbling from your lips.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d say let’s go drive through the rich neighborhoods and look at Christmas lights like we used to, but that’s where you and your parents live now, so...” You clicked your tongue and Auston rolled his jaw, acting completely offended to hide how much he had missed you chirping him. The way it melted him.

“We’re still going,” he insisted, turning the wheel at the next intersection and pulling a U-turn. “We’ll just, uh, we’re just gonna maybe skip a couple neighborhoods, that’s all.”

You laughed — a real Kelsey belly laugh — and Auston watched as you lit up his world yet again. He didn’t even need to see any Christmas lights this year. He had all the light he needed right next to him.

Minutes later, he passed the usual first turn on your holiday lights tour and you furrowed your brow.

“Aus, where are you going? I wanted to see Ranchero Nuevo first. We always start there,” you reminded him.

“No, what’s the actual first thing we do when we go see Christmas lights?” Auston asked, pulling instead toward the strip mall at the next light. When you saw the green glow of the Starbucks sign up ahead, you smiled as it dawned on you.

“Get hot chocolate,” you said fondly. Instead of answering, Auston simply sent a soft smile your way. “You’re the greatest,” you lauded, igniting a pride that burned bright in Auston’s chest.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said before he could even realize what he’d just done. He snapped his head your way and saw that you were trying your damnedest not to smile.

He was completely taken aback as you quipped, “You can call me babe for the weekend.”

Auston did a double-take and then nodded once at your phone in your hands, which had just lit up with two missed calls and a particularly accusatory text from one Alex Matthews that you decided you would have to tend to later.

“Write this down,” Auston instructed curtly.

“What do you mean?” you laughed, holding your phone up curiously.

��I want proof that you just said that to me,” he deadpanned, jutting his chin toward your glowing screen and sending you into a fit of laughter.

After you’d both recovered, Auston picked up your drink — large peppermint hot chocolate, like always — and a coffee for himself, and you set off to wind your way through the same neighborhoods you had driven through countless times, admiring most of the decorations and poking fun at the gaudiness of some, laughing all the while, without a care.

As he pulled into a neighborhood you knew to be just a stone’s throw away from where he had recently purchased a house, Auston took a deep breath, fingers gripping the steering wheel rigidly, and decided to take the leap and say what had been circling through his brain since you’d stepped foot in the vehicle after dinner but had only just now worked up the nerve to say.

“What if we didn’t go back to our parents’ places tonight?” he asked abruptly, the words sounding much more jumbled and rushed than they had in his head.

You chuckled anxiously, staring straight ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pressed on. “Hear me out. What if we just went to my place for the night instead? I don’t mean to like… to hook up, or anything,” he assured. “Just to be together. I just… I really fucking missed you.”

Uh, whoops. He hadn’t exactly meant to slip that last part in there, but it was too late to turn back now.

There was a lengthy pause and the car was frighteningly silent as you weighed your options.

“Well...” you eventually said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

“Yeah?” Auston asked immediately, searching your face for confirmation that he had just heard you correctly. He couldn’t believe that this — any of this— was really happening.

You nodded.

“Yeah. And… Aus?” you spoke.

“Yes, Kelsey?” he asked softly, joy radiating from his whole being and seeping into his words.

You leaned your head back against the seat and reached to wrap your hand around his on the center console.

“I really fucking missed you, too,” you told him.

_____

“Why did you agree to come with me tonight anyway, Kelsey?”

You and Auston were each almost a full bottle of wine deep by the time he asked this, inhibitions now lowered. He’d barely finished giving you the tour before you were both so palpably overwhelmed by the reality of being alone together in his house, with so many feelings buzzing about frenetically, that you took the liberty of pulling a bottle of red from the wine fridge and asking for glasses and a corkscrew. Auston forked them over without question, and now you were deeply entrenched in the process of examining old battle wounds that had never quite healed.

“Because I missed you,” you answered truthfully. “And also because I owed it to you to accept your invitation when you took a chance by reaching out.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kels,” he claimed, taking a swig.

You picked up your glass and passed by him as you began to pace the tile floor, unable to just be still during this exchange — this conversation that had been a long time coming.

“I do, though,” you argued. “You gave me everything. Everything. And I still left.”

Auston squeezed the stem of his wine glass so hard he feared he may just shatter it.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for the things I put you through because of my career choice,” he said firmly, a hand splayed against his chest as he accepted the responsibility, just like he always did.

“But you didn’t choose to have the media posted up outside our apartment every day. You didn’t choose to have strangers stalking me and my family online. You didn’t choose to have them calling me a distraction and a leech and a gold digger and a wh—“

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he lifted a finger, referencing the specific instance of the smearing of your character that had left you broken enough to start packing your bags.

“Okay,” you conceded quietly, knowing just how sick that one word had made him. “But listen. Yes, you chose to play hockey. But you didn’t choose all that shit that came along with it. You didn’t know! Hell, you didn’t even get to choose where you played. But even so… honestly, I used to blame you for everything. Because back then, it was just easier for me to deal with it that way.”

Auston’s head hung between his shoulder blades as he leaned his palms against the bar, reliving the very same pain that had eaten away at him for the past three years, especially the acute ache that had come in the weeks immediately after you left.

“I know you did — blame me, that is,” he said softly. “And I understand why.”

You took slow and deliberate steps back to where he stood and rubbed your hand soothingly across his broad back, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Hey… look at me, huh?” you asked, gently guiding his face toward yours with your fingers. “I don’t blame you, Aus. I don’t,” you assured, your eyes piercing into his. “Not anymore. I’ve grown. I know I did this. I know it’s my fault that we’re like this. I mean, fuck, I broke my own heart, and I know I hurt you. I just... at the time, I didn’t see a way forward on the road we were on.”

Auston’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he tried desperately to compute what he’d just heard, convinced he was gathering more from your words than you meant for him to.

“And now?” he ventured.

He watched as your pained expression turned to one of, dare he even think it, hope.

“I still see it, Aus,” you said. “I still see us ending up together. I know it’s out of the blue, but…”

“It’s not though,” he said, cocking his head a bit to punctuate his point. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, any of this, but… to me, it’s not out of the blue. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he told you. “And I just need you to know that. Regardless of what happens next.”

“Auston, you and me together… that’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s all that’s ever made sense to me,” you said, clarity washing over you. “But I just, I wasn’t ready. And I got so scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle your life that I… I just ran.”

“You can run, Kelsey,” Auston said softly as he, yet again, twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “But only so far.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. Then, without hesitation, you grasped his chin between your forefinger and thumb, turning his face to yours and studying his brown eyes just for a heartbeat before pressing your lips to his.

And for now, that was all that needed to be said.

_____

You hadn’t slept together. But you had slept together.

Too much crying and laughing and kissing and rehashing and wondering aloud had left you both emotionally drained and physically exhausted, and after dragging yourself into the master bathroom to throw on a crewneck and a pair of Auston’s sweats, you’d promptly fallen asleep in his arms, a smile on his features even in sleep.

The next morning it occurred to you, with your cheek pressed against his bare chest and your legs entangled with his, that Auston’s bed — whether here, or in the house where he grew up, or in Toronto — was the warmest one you’d ever known. Though you could tell by the sunlight flooding the room that it was late in the morning, you couldn’t bear to move away from him.

Soon, he, too, began to stir. As he squinted in the daylight and peered down at you, he closed his eyes once more, a peaceful grin on his lips.

“Oh, thank god that wasn’t just a dream,” he whispered. You chuckled, your fingertips lazily drawing shapes on his pecs as you nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“Nope,” you established. “This is very, very real.”

You lay in quiet thought for a moment before adding softly, “But what happens now?”

At that, Auston’s eyes opened wider this time, a slight panic visible in his face.

“Well,” he began, smoothing his hand over your head and kissing your hair. “What happens now is that we get some coffee.”

You sighed at his attempt to make light of the situation and pushed yourself to sit straight up in bed, cross-legged in front of where he lay on his side.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you spoke, your fingers pulling anxiously at the bedsheet below. “Yesterday was like a fever dream and now... now we have to face reality.”

Slowly, Auston sat up, too, and pulled you into his lap, allowing you to rest your back against his torso as he gathered your hair at the nape of your neck in a makeshift ponytail.

“Everything that happened yesterday was reality, baby,” he insisted, kissing the crown of your head.

“Our feelings, yes,” you allowed. “But not the rest of it. I mean, fuck, we’re both leaving town in —“ you glanced at the bedside clock and were shocked by the 11:27 that stared back at you, realizing you’d practically slept in half the day — “48 hours. And then what? I go back to LA and you go back to Toronto and we just wonder about—“

“Baby, stop,” Auston begged as he turned you to face him, bringing your forehead to his lips. “Take a breath,” he said, stroking your jaw with his thumbs as he looked down at you, concern etched into his features. “We don’t have to figure all this out right this minute. In fact, we’re not going to. For right now, let’s just let this be what it is. And you have to try and stop spinning your wheels so fast. You’re gonna burn a hole in my floor,” he joked, kissing your nose.

You chuckled sadly, holding his wrists. “You’re right,” you eventually told him. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. I know we will,” you sighed, frowning. “First things first though, I have to get home and help my mom get ready for the party tonight.”

Before you could get out of bed to start gathering your things, Auston circled his arms around your hips and kept you in his lap. “Wait, gimme a smile first,” he requested.

You looked up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile, still distracted by the future of your relationship teetering precariously in the balance.

Auston shook his head. “That’s a fake Kelsey smile,” he accused, accurately. “Don’t even try me.”

With another deep sigh, you muttered, “You’re the only soul who can tell.”

“Who can tell what?” he asked, hugging you tighter.

You looked up at him for a moment, feeling more seen than you had in years. “Which smiles I’m faking,” you said quietly.

A pleased smile twitched at the corners of Auston’s lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.

_____

Auston walked into your parents’ house that night with his understated charm and a devastating ensemble of a maroon suit, white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and black loafers, looking every bit the GQ model he was once upon a time. With two bouquets of red roses and a bottle of champagne in hand, he knocked on the glass and your dad met him enthusiastically at the door.

“What’s the occasion?” your dad then chuckled, a bit puzzled. Auston glanced to where you stood near the staircase, waiting to greet him, and smiled.

“These are for your daughter,” Auston said as he grasped one bouquet. “And these are for your wife,” he said as he gestured toward the other. Your dad raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of you pensively, and let out a loud laugh. “Well, how thoughtful! And the champagne?” your dad asked as Auston stepped toward you and tucked one bunch of roses into your hold. He kissed your cheek chastely and turned back to your dad.

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna have something to celebrate,” Auston said with a smirk. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and your dad clapped Auston’s back appreciatively before leaving the two of you to your moment.

“Thank you, for the flowers,” you said softly, staring up at him. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod before your aunt and uncle suddenly appeared in the doorway, loudly greeting you and pushing their way toward you for hugs as Auston gave them their space and waited for you to become available again.

His patience lasted all of five minutes as he made vague pleasantries with the handful of guests who had already arrived, before he was approaching you again, eager to do what he really came here to do and unable to wait a moment longer. As you turned away from a brief conversation with a longtime next-door neighbor, Auston gently grasped your wrist as he said hastily, “Can I see you outside for a second?”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he led you hurriedly through the formal living room and out the French doors to the balcony, closing them behind you and backing you into a corner, hidden from view.

“Aus, what are you—“

He pressed his body into yours, nudging you back against the rail as he took your face in his hands and kissed you hungrily.

“Doing,” you whispered when he let up, completing your earlier thought as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen lips and looked up at him, your cheeks reddening.

“That,” he answered simply with a small smile. “And I wanted to give you something...”

He patted his pockets to determine where the object was, and your eyes widened.

“Auston, no!” you exclaimed, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to stop his search. “You can’t. I didn’t get you anything. I —”

“Kelsey, are you crazy? Yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Time with you. You gave me time with you. That’s all I’ve wanted for the last three years. That’s more than I could have ever asked for.��

There was nothing you could say then, nothing that sounded worthy enough to hold any significance in such an already meaningful vignette of the two of you. Auston took your silence as his opportunity to pull a mid-sized, square, red leather box from the pocket of his suit jacket, the name “Cartier” imprinted in gold script on the lid.

“Auston, stop,” you warned in a whisper, knowing what was inside and knowing that you would be rendered completely incapable of walking away from him once he offered this gift to you, knowing what it signified for both of you. He shook his head, knowing that your request was an empty one. He propped open the box and placed it on the small wrought iron table in front of you on the balcony. You couldn’t peel your eyes from it as your mind raced with questions.

“How... where... we slept until noon, Aus,” you stuttered. “All the stores were closed. Where did you even buy this?”

He pursed his lips and nodded once, then put his hands into his pockets and admitted, “I’ve had it for almost three years, Kels.”

You blinked again and again, not processing what he’d just revealed.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I bought this for you for Valentine’s Day three years ago,” he continued. “I bought it and I hid it in my closet and I was gonna give it to you but we broke up on —“

“January 30th...” you whispered. Auston’s brows knit together in agony, and his throat constricted.

“You remember too,” he stated quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember a little too well,” you said, sniffling as you glanced down at the box again.

Suddenly, your mind drifted back not to that fateful day in his apartment in Toronto, but instead to lying on your stomach as a kid in your family room, flipping through the pages of your favorite issue of your mom’s old Vogue magazines, as Auston used a yardstick and a Nerf ball as makeshift hockey equipment, taking shots at your couch again and again while you soaked in the photos of beautiful models, trendy clothing, and expensive jewelry, as visions of working at a fashion magazine someday twirled through your daydreams.

“Whatcha readin’?” a ten-year-old Auston inquired as he dropped next to you to take a break from his game.

“Vogue,” you answered, turning another page. “Like usual.”

Auston nodded, spotting a pretty woman in a tight black dress and commented, “Cool,” with a laugh. “If you could have anything in that book, what would you pick?”

Ever the master of sass, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s a magazine, Aus,” you corrected with venom in your voice as Auston rolled his own eyes. “But, if I had to pick... I know just what I want,” you informed him, leafing through the issue to get back to an ad in the front. When you finally found what you were seeking, you plopped the magazine down again, smacking your hand onto its glossy pages.

“That,” you said, pointing to the gold bangle. “It’s called the Love Bracelet. It says that it gets bought by somebody you love and then they have to use a screwdriver to put it on you.”

“A screwdriver?!” Auston asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you drawled. “It doesn’t hurt. But then the person who loves you is the only one who can put it on you or take it off you. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Auston nodded. “Cool,” he repeated, more seriously this time. You sighed wistfully as you gazed down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, but it’s a whole bunch of money, and my dad said he isn’t buying it. He said maybe my husband will get me one someday,” you said sadly. Auston watched your face drop, then, he got an idea.

“How about this,” he offered, nudging you with his elbow. “If I get famous for playing baseball, or hockey I guess, and I make a boatload of money, then I’ll buy you that bracelet. ‘Kay?”

You blushed, hunching your shoulders as you were slightly embarrassed by your best friend’s offer. Still, you loved Auston, and you knew he loved you. He was the only person you wanted to get that bracelet from, except for like, your mom or dad.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You promise?”

Auston dragged his index finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart,” he confirmed.

This time, it was your turn to say, “Cool.”

“I asked my mom to hold onto it,” you heard him telling you now. Now that you’d become the people you’d said you’d be. Now that you both had grown into the farfetched dreams you’d shared as children. Now that you’d come back home — back to one another. Now that he was here, in front of you, again. “I just couldn’t bear to take it back, even though I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to give it to you.”

You were shaking your head endlessly, attempting to stop tears from streaking your face. “I can’t believe this...” you said, awestruck.

“I don’t have to put this on you right now,” Auston said, swallowing his own tears he felt creeping up on him. “I just want you to have it. It’s yours. You should keep it.”

With a few swipes at your undereyes, you rubbed away the wetness on your hands and then extended your left wrist to Auston. A smile flashed briefly across his lips before he set them in a straight line once more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, caution in his voice.

You pulled him in by his waist, beaming, before you answered.

“I’ve played this out basically every night since I left,” you told him. “Even when I was with somebody. I just followed the path my mind was taking me all the way to the very end, until there was no place left to go. And it always leads to you. It always leads me home.”

Auston pulled you into a searing kiss, both of you smiling into it, before he squeezed your hand and reached for the box, carefully disassembling the bracelet so that he could put it on you at last.

“All day I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier. About running,” you spoke as Auston worked on securing the bracelet. “I started running and running and it’s been such a mess since then. Nothing about the past three years made any sense to me. And then I saw you, and… it all made sense again. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me,” you told him, your voice wavering as he twisted the final screw into place, lifting the inside of your wrist to his lips and placing a warm, reverent kiss to the skin there, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. “So I’m done. I’m done running, Auston. I can’t run anymore.”

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Auston admitted, touching his forehead to yours before leaning back. “So, to your earlier point... what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

You ran a frazzled hand through your long hair and bit at the inside of your cheek as you formulated your response. “I mean, I have to go back, Aus. I’m working on a really big project...”

Your words put him into a tailspin of his own this time, watching the dreams he had let resurface over the last two days come crashing down in front of him all over again. You were eluding him. Again.

His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard your next words.

“But maybe after that... I could come and spend some time in Toronto?”

Auston pulled his tongue away from the roof of his dry mouth and pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it,” he said, desperation in his tone.

“I mean, really, I don’t have a choice,” you pointed out with a breathy laugh, your fingers tracing the cold metal of the bangle around your other wrist. “I don’t see any other way that this ends. Not after this. This perfect fucking weekend. I mean... do you?”

“No,” he quickly retorted. “No, I don’t. I was just scared that you... that this was going to be it for you. That we would have this incredible time together and then it would just be another chapter in the Auston and Kelsey history book.”

You smoothed your hands over his lapels, allowing your body to fully relax into his.

“Auston, this... this is different,” you said somberly. “Before, it all just felt like too much. I got scared. We were so young, Aus. I mean, we’re still young, but we were babies. And now... I’ve realized that dealing with the press and the social media and the fans... it’s worth it to me. I’ll never like it. But I love you. And that’s enough. That will always be more than enough for me — being with you. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long, that it took me finally coming back home, to realize that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kels, please,” Auston whispered, one hand clutching at your hip, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head as he held onto you with everything he had, knowing he was ready to do so for as long as you would let him. “Just... just say it again, baby. Please?”

“I love you, Aus,” you whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m never gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Auston pleaded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing his lips to your mouth. “Don’t ever stop. Promise?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Cross my heart,” you whispered, drawing a pretend line across your chest before cupping his cheek and kissing him tenderly.

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n-chu4ever · 2 years

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two random notes on LazyTown bc I do what I want

- Áfram!Íthró is a bit of an ass, but here’s the thing: Show!Sportacus’ ways of helping wouldn’t have worked. Neither would have GGÍL!Íthró’s. These were kids that genuinely were complete assholes, ESPECIALLY Halla. They needed more than just gentle encouragement and music. Á!Íthró had to get a little aggressive with them BECAUSE that’s what they needed. Not because he was a complete dick.

- Moving on: Early episodes of LazyTown have such a strange (but good) vibe to them, especially Defeeted, Sports Day, Sportafake, and a few others that I can’t remember. We’re ignoring the questionable canon here, just looking at the feel of the episodes themselves.

Defeeted especially has a VERY strange feel, and that’s because of the consistent silences and sound design. You can also tell exactly how early the episode was in the show’s production order because they haven’t quite got the lighting or Sportacus’ makeup right.

These are not bad things, though. In fact, I’ll bet one of the reasons Defeeted is fairly memorable (apart from Always A Way) lies in the fact that it’s just plain odd. Sheer chaos, honestly. And it’s wonderful, from ‘Lazycus’ slamming into a post as he slides into view after a decent period of technical silence from the Mayor and Bessie, only to be immediately recognised, the lack of musical cues in the background throughout the episode, Sportacus’ shoes flying somewhere offscreen and the only sound it makes when it lands being a cymbal crash…

Defeeted is a Good Episode.

Did not mean this to get so long whoops—

#this is N-Chu #lazytown #I can’t remember how to do the breaks on mobile so I humbly apologise guys #also hi yes I haven’t properly posted about lazytown in two years #I was busy with speed racer #sorry if this whole post makes no sense XD

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peachy-inserts · 4 years

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kageyama falling for someone/relationship hcs

request: hello!! so apparently ur taking haikyuu requests now so if it's not too troublesome, how abt some kageyama bf headcanons? thank you!! 😊

warnings: cursing

a/n: first haikyuu post, tysm! i hope this is ic for him, since its our first shot at this! i actually fell in love w him a little writing these, i didnt like him all that much before but now im realizing just how much of a sweetie he can really be aww (ik this just said bf hcs, but im adding it to our series!) long post, more under the cut

Kageyama is stubborn, he’s slow to come around to his own senses whenever he’s crushing one someone. It takes a good while for him to finally recognize what his own feelings are, and when he does it makes him sick. He’d be in denial for a while before he finally just couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bluntly ask you out

In the meantime, he becomes sort of stand offish with you. He wants to do nice things for you, but he just feels so silly doing it, he gets clammy, his palms are sweaty, and he can’t stop tripping over his own words

You make the blood rush to his face and the tips of his ears burn a bright red that is singed forever in his memory, who gave you the right to do that? He’s Tobio Kageyama, someone who doesn’t rely on others, who’s always sure of himself, and can’t be influenced by someone else’s opinions

He’s so blunt and nervous that it’s probably common knowledge by now to the rest of the Karasuno team that he has a massive crush on you, and the more he tries to deny it, the more he’s teased (by Sugawara especially, who eventually gets so sick of his love sick dazes that he bullies him into asking you out before he’s even considered it a possibility)

You may not even realize it yourself, though, with the way that he acts around you. It’s almost as if he’s pulling your hair, teasing you and then running off, but it’s not on purpose. He’s.. doing his best, but it certainly doesn’t come off that way. He only hopes that you aren’t offended by him, as most people seem to be

One of the major things holding him back is his fear of abandonment, his reputation being of no help in that. Even if you do show interest in him, he convinces himself that it’s only casual small talk, only a fabricated smile you use to make him so flustered that he excuses himself to finally leave you alone. Why would anybody ever want him? He’s cold, blunt, and clueless. He doesn’t really bring much to the table in a relationship, right?

So when he does finally ask you out, standing outside of the school just after class has let out for the day and tugging at the hems of his practice clothes all while trying not to bite his own tongue while he stutters, it comes as a bit of a shock to you

Is this some sort of prank?

You’re relieved, albeit confused, to know that he doesn’t actually hate you and in fact returns your feelings, and happily accept his confession to which he excitedly whoops and then runs off towards the gym, glad that it’s finally over with, before realizing just how rude of him that was

You haven’t moved an inch, completely bewildered by the event that seemed to have played out in front of you, when he comes back panting and asks you out on a date. Smooth, Kags…

Your date is, well, interesting. He’s super excited, nervous, and fucking terrified. He wants to vomit but he also kind of wants to hold your hand? Ugh, this sucks. And people just do this for fun? He fell for one person and feels as if his entire life has been turned upside down. This is your fault!

Once you officially start going out, he gets a little full of himself and despite how awkward he still is around you, he wastes literally no time whatsoever in rubbing it in Hinata’s face. He can’t do anything with Kageyama bringing up the fact that he has a s/o now and the red head still doesn’t

Smack him.

Past the beginning stages, once you’re established a stable and comfortable relationship with him, things are a lot different

While he’s himself around you, witty, sarcastic, and a little bit careless, he also feels the need to constantly impress you. He can’t start slacking; what if you get bored of him and leave him? He should always be striving to be the very best boyfriend he can be, even if he stumbles a few times on his never ending climb upward

He’s not super open to you about his feelings, but tries to make up for it in doing smaller things that he knows would mean a lot to him were they to come from you. He’ll get an extra snack at the vending machine, try and carry your bag whether you’re at school our out together, and listen to every song you send him (when you recommend music to him, he always teases you that it’s awful or makes his ears bleed, but he adds it to a playlist of songs that remind him of you and plays it whenever you’re around as a subtle way of letting you know it’s special to him, that he really does care. He’s not actually blowing you off)

Kageyama sees a Pusheen keychain set after practice one day, and even though it’s not something he’d ever buy for himself, he purchases the set and gives you the other half so you match. It’s so cute, and he turns beet red when somebody sees it attached to his bag one day and asks him about it. He tells them that you’re the one that bought it and he just didn’t wanna tell you no

Wow, he must be so caring, and they roll their eyes

He’s not big into PDA, but he doesn’t mind holding your hand when you walk together or giving you a quick peck on the forehead as a goodbye at the end of the day when you’re forced to part ways. He’s not that shy to show people whose you are >:)

As for jealousy… yikes. He could stand to be put into his place every once in a while, as he tends to snap at people and go completely over the top for small and petty reasons, often getting caught up in his own insecure and blinding rage that he forgets what even set him off in the first place

Whenever you come to his games, he’s completely thrown off. He’s not used to people showing up and cheering for him, and he gets so nervous that he’ll mess up in front of you that he wastes time trying to focus on impressing you and throws himself to off

He loves and you wanna support him, but… maybe it’s best if you just make up an excuse and send him off with a good luck charm

By the way, if you do happen to make him a good luck charm then he is going to carry it in his pockets for an eternity, not only at games but just in his day to day life, except for on days he gets to spend with you. He doesn’t need luck when you’re there, because he’s already struck gold

#kageyama x reader #kageyama hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu hcs #kageyama imagine #mod josie #hq #hc #hcs #headcanons #kageyama #tobio kageyama

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Fear

The Pool | The Difference | The Notes | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only Warnings: Cursing; canon-typical violence; character injury; angst. This one is angsty ‘cause we haven’t had an angsty one yet. Whoops. Notes: The next one will be more chipper, promise. Summary: You’re not ignorant to the fact that what the guys do day in and day out is dangerous.

Your world doesn’t stop when it happens.

It feels like it should, but it can’t. You’ve still got shit to do, the rest of an op to help coordinate, even as your insides are squirming and you think you’re going to be sick. You’re not ignorant to the fact that what the guys do day in and day out is dangerous. You worry about all of them, you always tell all of them to be careful.

But that doesn’t matter now, you can’t really dwell on what you have said or what you should’ve said, because you can still hear the odd gunshot coming through your feed and god, what the fuck is going on over there? You can hear Nick telling one of the guys to stay still and Henderson to keep applying pressure. And then Nick is telling you to call in a medic because Borracho has been shot.

When you do get to the hospital, the team’s all there. You don’t have to ask; Nick is up and telling you: “He’s in surgery right now. Bullet hit him in the abdomen,” Nick pats the spot on his own torso, on the left, just under his ribs in an approximation, “Doc says he got lucky, it didn’t hit anything vital.”

“It went through his tac vest?” You hiss.

“We were one short, he gave his to the witness,” Connors grumbles.

Stupid bastard. Stupid noble bastard. When you see him, you’re gonna kill him.

You want to ask more, but you hear your name being called. You turn to see Gabriel, Megan, and Borracho’s mom, Regina, coming down the hall. They need answers; you can ask your questions later. --

You don’t register much after the doctor says, “he’s going to be alright,” because that tiny bit of you that’s been ready to kill him this whole time just crumbles. Cause yeah, you’re still out in the waiting room, and you’re still worried, but Borracho was doing his job, and you may or may not already be planning to buy him his own tac vest for Christmas. Maybe L.L. Bean has them and you can get it personalized? “Can we see him?” It’s Gabriel that asks it; you haven’t even bothered, for the simple reason of the doctor’s answering question of, “Are you family?” They are. You’re not. They’re allowed in; Gabriel is already starting down the hall to his brother’s room. Regina and Megan turn back to you, apologies poised on their lips, and you wave them off with a thin smile and tell them that it’s alright, that you’ll see him later, that he needs his family right now. Megan wraps her an arm around her mom’s shoulders and gives you a thankful nod before following Gabriel. You’re alone for a split-second. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the vending machine next to you, and the buzz-crackle-mumbling of someone being called to the O.R. on the hospital’s intercom overhead. Then Nick’s hand is on your shoulder, and he’s telling you that one of them will drive you home. You shake your head, tell him that you can get yourself back. “How’d you get here?” Nick asks. “I… I um…” You drove. You drove, but you barely remember doing it. The guys are watching you, all of them. They’re waiting for the tears. But you’re not going to do that here; besides, they’re just as worried about Borracho as you are. You want to be there for them just as much as they want to be there for you. You can fall apart later. -- Visiting hours are over before the doctor lets anyone but Borracho’s family in to see him, so you and the guys decide to clear out (well, the guys decide to clear out, you know that you’ve gotta go with one of ‘em). Megan does come out to tell you all that he’s stable, and sleeping, that the doctors expect him to only be in for a few days before he’ll be able to come home, barring infection or complications. She promises to text you with updates; you tell her to call if she or the family needs anything - food, clothing, a babysitter - anything. She gives you a tight hug, and when you lean away, a few tears have leaked from her eyes. You reach up and carefully smooth them away, giving her a small smile. “He’s gonna be alright,” You remind her. “He’s gonna be alright,” She repeats back to you, because you both need to be told. -- The ride home is silent. You’re in the passenger seat of your car as Nick drives; Henderson, Zapata and Connors are following in the car that they all rode over in. You’re staring down the dashboard like you could melt it. When Nick pulls up in front of your place, you mumble your thanks. You both get out. Nick doesn’t toss you your keys like he would on another day. He walks around the car, puts them in your hand, claps you on the shoulder and tells you to get some rest. Before he can get in the car with the others, you call out to him. “You get the fucker that did it?” You ask. He nods. You nod in turn before you go inside. That’s been weighing on you. You’ve hadn’t been able to ask at the hospital; you’ve been worried about someone coming back to snag Borracho, maybe finish the job, but if Nick says they’re gone, that means they’re gone. You shut the door behind yourself and look around. Your apartment feels off -- weird. Like someone snuck in and moved everything two inches to the left. It’s a few moments of quiet before you realize how tired your body feels, how hollow. You drag yourself into the bedroom, barely kick off your shoes before you fall onto the bed. You need to rest now. You can fall apart later. -- Henderson seems stunned to see you when you come into the office the next day. He glances at Connors, then Zapata. “If I see money change hands, I’m gonna slap all three of you,” You warn as you lower yourself into your desk chair. The guys turn back to their work. Nick comes over to your desk a few minutes later. “You sleep?” He asks first. You nod. “You see him?” He asks next. You haven’t. He’s still resting; his family has been taking shifts at the hospital, and you wanna be there, you do, but they told you that they’ve got it under control. And fuck, you wanna argue, but you don’t wanna push back on this, not right now, not with them. “He’s in good hands,” Is your answer. “... If you wanna take a day…” Nick almost looks pained as he offers it. You glance up at him. “We still have work to do?” You ask. “Yeah.” “Are you all takin’ a day?” “No.” “Alright then.” You put your headphones in, and you turn your music up, and you fight the urge to look at the little post-it notes you keep in the front of your notebook. -- “Hey, sweetness.” If your eyes had been closed, you almost could’ve almost trick yourself into thinking everything’s normal, the way he mumbles it -- it’s the way he mumbles it when you wake him up in the morning. But you don’t have the beeping of a heart monitor and the harsh bright of overhead lights to contend with in your bedroom.

Regina had warned you that he’s still hopped up on pain meds and pretty tired. And it’s only been three days, and you know that he lost a lot of blood, but damnit, Borracho looks small and sallow in that hospital bed. “Hey there,” You speak softly as you pull a chair up beside his bed. You're sitting on the right side of him; the chair one on the left is piled high with his mom’s purse and her coat, and one of the niece’s diaper bags. You take his hand in both of yours, a gentle grip, like he’s gonna turn to dust in front of you if you clasp too tight. You haven’t seen him in three days but it’s felt like a fucking year. “How are you feelin’?” You ask. He chuckles, mumbles, “Like I got shot,” And you push out a laugh and give him a smile, because that’s what he needs right now. You can tell him that you hated hearing him say it later. -- “This is payback for when I got that concussion, isn’t it,” Connors grumbles as he grabs his jacket, heading out for the third time that day. Borracho’s on the last day of his first week of desk duty. He’s been home for just as long. “How else are you gonna learn, Connors?” Is Borracho’s answer, and the guys crack up. They laugh, because they’re coping by making light of this, because this wasn’t the first incident, and it won’t be the last. Those are just the facts. And they can make light of this, because Borracho’s in one piece. You can’t, though. You haven’t worn your headphones in the office so much since those first few months at the department. The guys don’t question it; Nick doesn’t push you to interact like he did last time. They just let you at your work. Look, you’re fine. Things are fine. Borracho’s back to being home with you, sleeping in your bed. His stitches have been taken out, they say he’s healing up well. He’s fine. You’re fine. -- “I’ve got it.” You can’t count how many times you’ve said that since he got out of the hospital. Listen, you’re not babying him, it’s just -- well at first, he still had residual pain. And you don’t mind grabbing things for him, you really don’t. So if he was hungry, you’d grab him food, or if he wanted more coffee, you’d get up and get him some. Problem is it’s been about three weeks now and you’re still saying, “I’ve got it.” You can see that it’s starting to wear on him a little bit, but it’s automatic now, you can’t bring yourself to stop trying to help - even when he hasn’t asked you for it. So when you see him reach for something in the cabinet, and he winces just a little at the stretch, you hurry over, and bat his hand away with a mumble of, “I’ve got it.” “Cut it out,” He chuckles. You freeze with your hand wrapped around a box of graham crackers, and turn your head to blink at him. “...I can get things for myself, sweetness,” He adds, softer, “‘Sides, I’ve gotta get used to moving around again. Just lemme grab ‘em. Okay?” You let go of the box and nod, and he pecks your lips before you can step away. You settle back down on the couch, your stomach twisting, your emotions a mottle of uselessness and idiocy. Borracho sits down next to you a few minutes later, slings his arm around your shoulder. You take a nibble of the graham cracker when he holds a piece in front of your mouth. You don’t lean into his side - it’s his left side. You’re sure the spot is still tender, you don’t want to aggravate it, even when Borracho’s arm tightens around you and he tries to coax you closer. -- You blink at the light as it’s flipped on. You’re frowning - for a couple of reasons. The first is that the room that was just dark is now bright as hell. The second is that Borracho is also frowning - at you. “What’s going on?” He asks quietly. “What are you talking about?” You shake your head. He tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Come on, you know I know you better than that.” You’d taken your time coming to bed. Borracho had gone in ahead of you, but you’d stayed on the couch, zoning out to some television show you really didn’t care about. He’d been touchy all night - hands skimming over your thigh, your arm, your side; kissing your cheek, your neck. You’d pecked his lips a couple of times, but you hadn’t reciprocated otherwise. Thing is, it’s not just tonight. You’ve barely touched Borracho since he’s been home. You don’t know what it is. It’s not that you don’t want him, you do, you always do, but you just… “You can turn the light back off,” You turn back to the dresser and grab your pajama bottoms, “You should be sleeping.” You cringe when you hear the thud of Borracho’s feet on the floor of your bedroom, and then he’s touching your shoulder and carefully turning you to face him. “What’s going on?” He presses, “Sweetness, I’m sorry if I seemed harsh in the kitchen earlier--” “It’s not that,” You shake your head. “Then what?” He’s looking over your face, “You’ve been acting like I’m about to disappear--” “You scared the shit out of me!” And then you slap your hand over your mouth because fuck. You yelled, and you’d told yourself that you weren’t going to do this. What happened wasn’t his fault - it wasn’t his fault that they didn’t have enough tac vests. He took the initiative to protect their witness. You tell yourself that every time you see that damn scar, every time you see him wince. You shake your head, lowering your eyes from his stunned face. Your eyes are watering and you need to move. You make to step around him, but Borracho gets in your way, and hooks an arm around your middle and hurries to say, “Don’t, hey-- talk to me--” You’re still shaking your head, but you can’t stop the tears now, so Borracho gathers you into his chest as you fall apart against him. Neither of you speak; you can’t, couldn’t even if you tried. He just wraps his arms around you and keeps all of your shattering pieces together. You couldn’t do this before. You felt like you didn’t have permission. The guys needed you to do your job, and then his family had needed you to keep your head, and then-- and then he was out of the hospital and home with you and what was the point of crying about it? You’ve been walking around with panic and pain and worry for a month and the dam has finally fuckin’ broken. When you’ve calmed down a little bit, the two of you crawl into bed. Borracho shuts the light back off. He takes one of your hands and slips it over his side and gently presses it to the puckered skin of the scar. It brings a fresh wave of tears, and you turn your head and press your face into the pillow to hide from him. “I’m sorry, sweetness,” He mumbles, letting you lift your hand away from the scar to rest on his chest, where you can feel his heart beating steadily. You know he isn’t doing it on purpose; you know he’s trying to help, to show you that he’s healing and that he’s alright, but he doesn’t quite know how to. You’re not sure how to make this better, either. “Can you stay home tomorrow?” He whispers the question when you’re half asleep. You sniffle and nod a little bit, and press your face into his neck. You shyly let your hand slide back down to the scar. Your fingers smooth over the raised skin before you settle your palm over it. -- Borracho lowers himself onto the couch beside you, tucking you against his right side as you cradle your mug of coffee. The morning’s been slow. Borracho’s been moving around you like you’re a skittish little thing. You’ve been staying out of his way in the kitchen and the living room and the hall, letting him do things for himself and shaking this urge to be his shadow. “Megan said she didn’t understand how you were so calm the whole time.” “...Well, unfortunately, now you know,” You grumble, looking down into your mug. You’re still embarrassed for yelling; you’ve apologized three times now. Borracho’s hand runs up and down your shoulder. He’s patient, quiet. You finally manage, “I’ve never… Been with anyone that puts themselves in danger like this every day. When it happened, I was in work mode, and then when I got to the hospital, I was just...I don’t know, I was trying to find ways to fix it, cause… Cause when it happened, I wasn’t anywhere near you, I couldn’t do anything. And then I couldn’t see you at the hospital, since I wasn’t family,” You feel Borracho tense up beside you, but he doesn’t stop you, “But I could run errands for your mom, or look after your sisters’ kids, or grab Isobel coffee, something. That helped. It was distracting. And then we were back in the office and you guys kept joking about it, and-- and I know, I get it, you guys have to sometimes, but I just couldn’t.” You shut up, biting down on your lips as you feel tears springing up again. You don’t know how; you could’ve sworn you’d cried everything out last night. Borracho doesn’t interrupt you still, just squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. “I’m sorry I babied you so much when you got home,” You add once you’re sure you’ve pushed the tears away, “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve had something like this happen. I was trying to fix that, too.” “You weren’t babying me...At first.” He’s teasing you now, and you’re smiling a little despite yourself. Borracho presses a kiss to your temple and murmurs, “There’s my girl.” “And I’m sorry for yelling.” “I know, sweetness.” “But I will probably yell again if you ever do a dumbass thing like removing your tac vest again.” “Understood.” “And the guys. They will not escape my wrath, either.” “Your wrath?” “My wrath.”

#The Pool #The Fear #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/You #Benny Borracho/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Den of Thieves

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