#Elopement PA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 2 years ago

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something borrowed | jjk

VIBES | first loves, a lil angst, a lil... infidelity (don't scream at me!!), no smut (a little teeny lips to kitty moment but no actual smut) jungkook's nose be doing things (smelling <3) cause when is it not?, mafia au

SOUNDTRACK | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia, the weekend ; mirage - elina

HOLLY'S NOTE | (originally posted april 2023) was in a tiktok hell hole of moth to a flame edits, and this is the product of it loool. posted on wp first!!

WORD COUNT | 2.8k

GLOSSARY OF TERMS | all relating to korean gangs

Gyeongsang - the ancient name for what is now known as the Yeongnam district of Korea. It includes Daegu, Busan, Ulsan, and both Gyeongsang Provinces. It's essentially the South-East of the country.

Honam - the district of Korea which includes Gwangju and both Jeolla provinces. Essentially, it's Yeongnam's counterpart - the South-West of the country.

Pa - the term for a 'mob' in Korean, often affixed to regions or identifiers of specific gangs

Jopok - a term for someone involved in a gang

THEY SAY you never forget your first love; that it's some sort of earth-shattering, universe-bending, life-debilitating experience. You learn from it; how to behave, how to act, how to break a heart, and - sometimes - how to heal one, too.

They're a funny thing, first loves.

Virginities are given and taken in all aspects of life; sex, declarations of affection, scathing remarks in the midst of arguments.

Jeon Jungkook has all of your firsts, and you all of his.

It had been a too-hot summer, and you'd been rebelling.

Fresh-faced, and terribly bored of the confines put in place by your father, Jungkook had seemed like a safe bet.

Jungkook had always been a rebel. You made no change to that.

You'd gone to Busan looking for trouble. Like father, like daughter. He usually went there to fuck with Gyeongsang-pa goonies who didn't know their left from their right; to remind them that what Honam-pa may lack in their underground history, they made up for in their sheer moxie.

You'd gone there to fuck with Gyeongsang-pa goonies, too, just in the literal sense. You were on the cusp of nineteen, and still being held prisoner to Honam-pa hierarchy, or so it felt.

An easy target was found in the form of a boy skimming rocks against a settled bay. Leather jacket and a face of thunder, Jeon Jungkook had wanted nothing to do with you. Heard the tone of your dialect and knew you were one of them.

"Ain't no place for Honam bitches," he'd told you. Had made you laugh.

"And who are you?" You'd replied, voice condescending, eyes innocent. "Too scrawny to be Jopok."

He had smirked. Shook his head. "Yeah, and you're too vapid to be asking questions like that in a city that ain't yours." The pebble he sent hurtling into the ocean skipped once, twice, three times before sinking. He turned to look at you. Sighed. Figured you were at least a little bit more interesting than pebbles. "What's your name, Honam?"

As you stand in front of a mirror, seven years since that summer, you know Jeon Jungkook will be getting all of your lasts, too.

You're smoothing down a dress; white, lace, and everything a girl dreams of.

Well, everything a girl who wants a traditional wedding with all the bells and whistles wants.

You've always considered yourself an elopement kind of girlie; last-minute charity shop dress for you, and second-hand tie for your groom, in a city worlds away from 'home'. That's what you would have liked.

But you're Honam's Princess.

This was always gonna be the way.

You'd never expected yourself to have a Gyeongsang-pa groom, but sometimes life works out in funny ways.

"It's bad luck," you say quietly as Jungkook approaches the doorway. It's a little before noon. Nuptials are at two. You've sent away your ladies in waiting, favouring these final moments alone.

"To see the bride?" he questions. He's not even started getting ready yet. Still in a pair of sweats and an old shirt that you remember from that very first summer. You wonder if he's wearing it deliberately now; if it makes him feel like he's young again.

He'd been so fresh-faced back then. His broad back hadn't yet been tarnished by a dragon, and his eyes had seen far less violence. His hands, too.

You nod. "Remember? I told you. You shouldn't see the bride on the morning of the ceremony."

Jungkook just shrugs. Pushes the door to, and walks further into the room to stand behind you. It's warm, but his presence gives you chills. It shouldn't do. Not when you know him as intimately as you do.

His fingers reach up to toy at the vintage clasp of your necklace. He asks, "Something old?"

You're silent as you study him in the mirror. He's not aged a day. Not really. Not in his eyes. The scar on his cheek looks a little deeper from his face filling out, and he wears his hair differently - he doesn't subscribe to the Gyeongsang-pa standard of short sides, long top anymore - but his eyes are just the same.

"Something old," you nod.

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and lets the very tips of his fingers trail down your spine, until they reach the fabric of your dress.

"Your Grandmothers," he says. "I remember it."

You don't hide your surprise.

"What?" he smirks, when he notices the tiny little hum of confusion you do. "Was that first summer. You left it in my car once. Was karma for you chatting shit about your sister inheriting the opal ring."

"It was too small for her fingers!" you immediately protest, still standing by the fact it would have been cherished by you - though you do have an opal ring, now.

It normally sits snug on your fourth finger, awaiting a dainty silver band to keep it company, but it's off today. Symbolic. Your wedding band is to be threaded on first, held in place by your opal forevermore.

"The necklace suits you," he offers.

Thinks it really does; a small silver chain, links twisted with a single teardrop pearl resting on your chest. It goes back generations. Is a status symbol. Losing it in Jungkook's car had left you terrified for you both, no matter who would have found it - Gyeongsang-pa goonies or Honam-Pa. Would have been fucked either way. Fraternizing with the enemy was one thing - but fucking them?

Your father would have had Jungkook's head on a butcher's block within an hour of finding out.

Funny, how things change.

He strides over to the dresser, where a white shoe box sits open. Tissue paper sprouts from the packaging, and nestled inside are a pair of heels that he thinks are befitting of you. They're white, to match your dress, with ornate silver leaves trailing up and around the heels. You'll be a good few inches taller with them on, but he'd still dwarf you if he were to stand across from you.

A little taller than he was that very first summer, Jungkook is far more confident, too. Not in a brash, false bravado kind of way, but in such a way that he's learned his worth. Knows where he is in the pecking order. Works so much harder than you ever will, and yet will never be of equal status. Not in Honam Pa, not in Gyeongsang-Pa.

He sits on the chair beside the mirror and holds a shoe in each palm. His legs are spread, smile arrogant, as he taps the shoes together.

"Something new?"

"Careful," you say, not looking at him, tweaking a little bit of your hair back. "Yes. Something new."

He raises one of shoes, and nods to where the skirt of your dress pools on the floor. "May I?"

"Shouldn't even see-"

"See the bride, yeah, yeah, I know," he says softly. "Next time I see you, you're gonna be one of us. Let me at least spend a little time with you while you're still Honam."

"You've always hated that I'm Honam," you remind him.

He doesn't deny it.

"Just let me help you get ready for your party," he says, stern but gentle. He's always been like that with you.

He calls it a party, because he refuses to call it a wedding. Wedding is too romantic. Too foreboding.

You don't want to smile. He's so abrasive at times, so frustrating. You wonder how you ended up here; eyes full of adoration as you nod. "Alright then, Prince Charming."

You lift your leg just a little bit, but Jungkook knows your body, so doesn't give it a second thought as he reaches down to leverage it up. He strokes at your ankle, the heel of your foot, the arch. Smiles to himself when you shudder a little when his fingers ghost across the tiny ticklish section.

"Don't," you smile. "I'll fall."

He just shrugs. "I'll catch you."

That's the thing about Jungkook; he always does. Trusty, dependable, reliable.

Sure, maybe occasionally he would be the one to tie your laces, but he would always catch you.

You've no laces on now. Any falling? All of your own doing.

Jungkook doesn't let the sentiment linger. Asks, "Something blue?"

You look down at him as he slides the second shoe onto your other foot, and wonder if showing him really will be pushing your luck - but hey.

He's already seen the bride.

What harm would it do if he sees a little more?

He holds on to your ankle for longer than he really should. Strokes his thumb across the top of your foot. Smiles. You press the pad of your now-heeled foot into the tiny space between his spread legs, keeping it elevated, and give him a look that grants him permission to explore.

Both of his hands stroke up your raised leg, smooth and silky, the fabric of your dress moving to reveal what's hidden beneath. He reaches your knee. Leans forward a little. Presses those lips you know so well against your skin. Keeps stroking upwards, hands spreading across your thighs before reaching a roadblock. Chiffon and lace intertwined, a baby blue garter is hooked around your leg.

Jungkook's lips trail from the top of your knee to just shy of the material that stopped him from venturing further.

"Something blue," you whisper.

He nods. Lets his nose rest against it. You've sprayed it with your perfume. He fucking loves your perfume. You've been wearing the same one since he met you, and it always gets him a little heated at times he shouldn't be.

Isn't his fault though. He thinks you conditioned him.

And yeah, maybe you had sprayed it in his car vents on more than one occasion, and maybe you had deliberately layered a pheromone-infused oil beneath it that entire first summer. Not your fault he happened to like it a little too much. Not his fault the scent always takes him back to those stolen moments with you.

Jungkook's teeth sink into the material. Draw it back. Let it ping against your skin.

"Kook," you whisper, as if your hands aren't in his hair.

His hands push further up your legs. Both of them, now. They reveal the lacey white underwear you purchased especially for the big event. It's a matching set.

"Thank God it's not a Church wedding," he husks, a sigh exhaling. His breath tantalisingly chills your now-wet folds. So inconvenient. "You'd burn the second you stepped inside."

Jungkook's lips trail further. Leave little evidence. He's learned how to do that over the years. Has left no traces of himself, well, ever.

There's hustle and bustle in the garden out of the rear window. A traditional-style wooden screen preserves your dignity; hides your Gyeongsang-pa goonie from sight.

The venue wasn't your choice. It's Gyeongsang territory, for a start. Your father had said it would be good. Would help with the treaty. Very little about your 'party' has been planned by you. Like most of your life, your father has an iron vice on proceedings.

Your underwear was the one thing you had total control over. Had even considered wearing none at all, as a bit of a 'fuck you'.

Jungkook pauses. Takes in the sight of you. Grips the flesh of your upper thighs. Curses to himself.

It feels like he's staring at your lace-covered cunt for an eternity before his lips finally press against it. Your grip in his hair tightens.

You'll need to change your underwear before you walk down the aisle. That's fine. This underwear was never intended for anything other than this, regardless.

Because while yes, the groom shouldn't see the bride ahead of the ceremony, it's not like that matters here. Jungkook was always going to see you before the wedding.

His lips are slow as he withdraws, and simply says, "Something borrowed."

The implication is heavy; heart-stopping. Cataclysmic.

"By you?" You whisper, as his deep dark eyes meet yours.

He looks so pretty in defeat. It pains you - but you both know this is the least painful outcome for you both.

Jungkook shakes his head. Let your dress gather by the floor. Smooths it over. Reclines into his chair.

"By Min fuckin' Yoongi."

Neither of you speak for a moment. Hearing his name, especially uttered from Jungkook's lips, makes your blood run cold. For so long, you've avoided the topic.

It's impossible, now.

See, it doesn't matter if Jungkook sees you before the ceremony.

He's not your groom.

Yoongi is.

He's your counterpart; the son of the Gyeongsang-pa King. A marriage born out of a sacred treaty between the gangs; the promise that together they'll obliterate Sudogwon's unruly mobs that have been making their way south in recent years.

"It's not too late," Jungkook whispers.

But it is, and you both know it. You've come too far to back out now.

Negotiations have been made. Peace treaties signed. Deals across clans finalised.

You're Honam's Princess, but one day you'll be Gyeongsang-pa's Queen.

Jungkook will only ever be a pauper chasing after the big boys.

So you'll say your vows and exchange your rings, and Jungkook won't object.

He'll sit quietly, like a good boy should, and watch you seal your fate.

Will watch Min Yoongi slide a wedding band onto your ring finger.

Will smile to himself when notices your engagement ring holding it in place a few months from now.

Will remind himself of the old tales that go hand in hand with opal engagement rings. If the legends are anything to go by, you'll be a widow within four years. He can wait that long. Has waited far longer, already.

And if, by four years, his time still hasn't come?

Kings can be overthrown. Jungkook is as Jopok as they come. He'll fight dirty.

For you?

He thinks he'll fight to the death.

"You're too good for Gyeongsang," he tells you, neck stretched, the crown of his head resting between his shoulder blades. You're scratching at his hair, looking at him.

With a smile, you shrug. "I'll still be Honam. For you, I'll be Honam."

Jungkook nods. Closes his eyes. Leans into your touch.

"My Honam girl," he says quietly, and it makes you wish that you had just run away with him that very first summer. You'd suggested it after you first thought you had lost your necklace. Thought it would be the only way to keep one another safe - until Jungkook found it between the seats.

You'd thanked the God that you don't believe in at the time. Clutched the necklace over your heart, head tipped to the heavens, all while Jungkook looked only at you. Lucky, he'd said, unaware that it was the worst possible outcome for you both.

You should've run.

Should've fuckin' run.

"Go," you whisper, knowing it's too late for any of that now. "We've got a party to attend, and you can't show up in a pair of sweats."

He likes that you don't call it a wedding, either. Nods. Also knows he can't be caught sneaking from your room. There'd be hell to pay.

Jungkook gets to his feet. Kisses your cheek. Tell you how pretty you look. Slowly walks to the door, then turns to look at you one final time. Spares you from a final remark that could make you feel even worse about the situation.

"Kook?" You call, just because you can't bear to let him leave. Not yet. It's too soon.

He hums a response. Doesn't open the door just yet. Waits for you to speak.

"I wish we never met."

Jungkook looks at his feet. Smiles. Nods.

"Me, too, babe." And then, just because he needs it to be known, "I love you."

You don't turn to face him.

"I love you, too."

#jungkook fanfic #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #mafia!jungkook #mafia au #bts fanfic #jungkook mafia #jungkook mafia au #looooool #i hate tagging so much #it's just jungkook being sexy what more do u want ???#byholly

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kirblord · 23 hours ago

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⁺ ⊱✮⊰ ˳ Regency-Inspired Writing Prompts

i love historical fiction, and recently have been fascinated by regency fiction!! based on some research, here are some prompts inspired by the regency era. feel free to change these as you wish!

✮⋆˙ locations

a smoking room, with plush couches and the stench of tobacco

a private library, meticulously arranged. a particularly interesting book sits open on a bookrest

a modest carriage, with uncomfortable seats and passengers pressed too close together

a lavish ballroom, slightly empty as the musicians take a break

a blue room, decorated with blue items and wallpapers.

a country manor, a short ride away from society

full stables, with multiple high quality horses and a sickly old horse kept for sentimental reasons

a seat in the gardens, accompanied by a delivery of refreshments

a hunting lodge, swarmed with folks excited for the next hunt

a lively townhouse, where folks from multiple social strata gather.

✮⋆˙ actions

[ bow ] - A greets their social superior, B.

[ card ] - A presents B with their dance card and asks for a dance.

[ duel ] - A duels B due to a perceived slight.

[ elope ] - A & B run to a far away city to elope, against the will of their families.

[ faux pas ] - A says or does something broadly considered to be poor manners.

[ gamble ] - A places a bet on B succeeding in some sort of contest.

[ note ] - A pays for a message to be delivered to B during a theatre performance.

[ presentation ] - A is presented to a noble or monarch to announce them available for marriage.

[ ride ] - A invites B to ride horseback with them.

[ stroll ] - A asks B to come one a stroll through the gardens with them.

✮⋆˙ literary quotes

"We’ll live, Aurora! we’ll be strong. The dogs are on us–but we will not die." -- Aurora Leigh, Book 1 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"So tired, so tired, my heart and I !" -- My Heart and I by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"For I’ll soon show to you how the lilies grow, On the banks of Italy." -- The Daemon Lover, James Harris

"When you have lived a few years longer, you will, I fear, learn, that every day has evils enough of its own, and that it is well for us we know nothing of those which are yet to come." -- Emmeline, by Charlotte Smith

"There is a shadow far within your eye, which hath of late been deepening." -- The Vespers of Palermo, by Felicia Hemans

"Oh, the evil is that I am not jealous, is it?" -- Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë

✮⋆˙ dialogue prompts

"And if I shouldn't accept this dance? What then?"

"My dear friend, you should have known nothing could come of this. Of us."

"Oh, if only you had seen her get tossed from the horse! I cannot remember the last time I've seen her cowed."

"Please ignore my cousin, he never developed a strong grasp on propriety and good manners."

"We must leave now. I cannot be seen here, least of all with you!"

"I know this is probably a fleeting passion, yet I cannot help declare that I love her."

"The poor [family name]s. Their eldest eloped with an artist of all people."

#rp memes #writing prompts #prompt list #regency #writing prompt #writeblr #writing inspiration #rp meme

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butterflyintochains · 3 months ago

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The Pittsburgh Gambit

Fed up of the lack of good coaching and bad management, one of the 32 best hockey teams in the world band together, and go for the nuclear option. Something they didn't exactly want to do, but they're left with no other choice. With each other's support, and the backing of Mario, the league, and the PA. The Penguins pull the trigger, and decide to force management's hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is nothing short of a complete and utter clusterfuck. It should not have had to come to this. Truth be told, this shouldn't even be happening at all. But, it is happening, and they need to do this for their own good before anything else. They deserve better, their city deserves better, and their fans deserve better. So, fuck it, they're doing this, and they're doing this now. The morning after that 7-1 tragedy of a loss to Dallas, the core call a family meeting at Cranberry, without coaching staff or management allowed in. It's half past eight when Sid checks his watch, he's hedging his bets that no one slept much last night. He and Geno certainly didn't. Kris probably didn't either, and if Kris didn't, neither did Erik. Not that anyone would know it. Everyone takes their seats, the trio and Erik at the front of the room. Erik might not wear a letter, but nobody is going to tell Kris that, not today. ''Alright, boys, we all know why we're here, we need change, and need it now.'' Sid says, playing with his wedding ring.

Rusty looks to Sid, and asks. ''What's the plan? We follow you four.''

Kris bluntly says, pulling up a blank word document. ''We're all going on strike. So, until things change, no hockey, no training, nothing. I've been in talks with the PA about this for a couple of weeks, and they'll support us.''

Jack looks stunned, not quite what Kris and Erik wanted for his first real season, but, this is for him. ''We're striking? All of us?''

Erik nods, tying his hair up out of his face. ''All of us in this room, skatten mitt, until further notice, we're all striking. Kyle is failing us, Sully is failing us. So, we're hitting them where it hurts.''

Drew points out, his sunny self dimmed lately. ''What about the season? We're hosting Detroit tomorrow, right?'' Geno speaks up this time, the four of them speaking with one voice. ''It won't make a difference, luchik, we're already tied for last, what's a strike gonna harm?''

Sid says, stamping his place as captain right away, even if Kris is handling their little manifesto. ''Are we good to go on this? We're gonna need all of us in on this for it to work.'' Everyone nods emphatically, and Sid says. ''Kris, get typing.'' Kris puts the document on the big screen, and types up the introduction to their strike notice while everyone talks. This is the wildest thing he's ever done, including eloping to Sweden with Erik.

Fenway Sports Group, Kyle Dubas, and Coaching Staff. Exercising our rights as workers to collective bargaining and unionization, and led by Captain Sidney Crosby, Alternates Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang, and Norris Winner Erik Karlsson. We, the Pittsburgh Penguins team, are officially going on strike effective today November 12th of 2024. As most would know, this season is quickly deteriorating, and we have missed two consecutive playoffs, and look set to miss a third. We would like it to be known that very little, if nothing at all, is being done to course correct this downward spiral. This is not a decision we have taken lightly, but this course of action appears to be our only choice. We sincerely apologize to our ever-loyal fans for letting them down the last couple of seasons, and assure them that this is not the end of our season. If our terms are met, we should be back on the ice in black and gold for them sooner than later.

Kris looks up from typing, and addresses the group. ''Right, here's our preamble, how does it look?''

Marcus reads it over, and nods. ''It's perfect, what next?'' Erik says, looking over his husband's shoulder. ''Our terms as a union. So, what are we after?''

Beauvillier mentions better management who will take action when it's needed, and be accountable to the team. Tristan mentions better coaches, the trio share a pensive look, they've served under Sully for a decade, but eras end, so it's added to the manifesto. ''Alright, looks good, boys, anything else?'' Sid asks, taking a look at things on the big screen.

Ricky says. ''Better press, I'm sick of the media people around us, except for Taylor and Michelle... they can stay.'' Everyone claps for him for saying this out loud. They've been sick of media for about a season now. Kris adds it to the document. ''Right: management, coaching, media, anything else?'' Kris asks.

Rusty proposes. ''I'd like In The Room back, so our fans can see us as people again.''

Kris nods, and adds it to the document. ''Alright, is that all?'' Nobody speaks up to add anything, so the terms are finalized.

Our terms for return to play are as follows: A change of management to a front office with our best interests at heart, and who will take accountability for mis-steps, and correct them accordingly. A complete change of coaching staff from the ground up, as much as we respect decade-long head coach Mike Sullivan, it's time for a new set of eyes. Greater checks and balances on what our media circle are allowed to ask our players, to protect their mental health and truth in reporting. And, finally, a return of In The Room so as to link us back to our fans the way we used to be.

Kris next drafts the outro to the manifesto, knowing once this gets posted online, everything changes.

Until our terms are met, there will be no hockey or training from our team members. This is not a choice we came to lightly, but it must be done to restore this team to the glory it once had. We feel supported in this by the NHLPA and by the wider NHL itself, as well as the perpetual support of our city and Mario Lemieux, and confident to move ahead with our labour strike. Best regards, The Pittsburgh Penguins Team.

Finally, the manifesto is done, and just needs somewhere to be posted. Drew proposes creating an instagram account for the team as a union, and Kris sets it up under Sid's email address. It's only right that it be linked back to the captain. Jack helps get the manifesto ready to post. ''Alright, are we ready to get going on this?'' Sid asks. Everyone cheers. ''Great, Kris, pull the trigger.'' Kris hits 'post' and adds the caption. ''An address to everyone.''

Geno checks his watch, and says. ''Right, as of now, we're on strike. Everyone, out.'' The whole team exit the training arena, acutely aware that they've just lit a fire in the organisation. Once back at their cars, Erik asks. ''Did we do the right thing?''

Sid says, fiddling with his watch. ''We did the only thing, Karl. Hopefully, it works.''

They all head home, it's weird, they should be training in two hours' time, but they're heading home instead. Kris leads Erik and Jack inside out of the cold, Buddha and Freya asleep by the fireplace, Penny nestled between them. Rusty and Drew will have no doubt gone over to Sid and Geno's place. ''So... that was... intense.'' Jack says.

Kris grabs a protein shake. ''Intense and necessary, mon dauphin, this will help you well into the future.''

Jack asks them, looking to his surrogate fathers for guidance. ''What happens now?''

Erik says, crashing into an armchair, leaning his head back. ''We do whatever we want, except for hockey.'' Which is even weirder, hockey players during the season who aren't allowed to play, they're all healthy, but there's something bigger to fight for now. And, they're in this fight together, as they always have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, the strike is wildly popular with the fans and the rest of the hockey world, even the foreign leagues are backing them up, as well as the IIHF. Even the Capitals and Flyers are supporting them in this, which is nothing short of a miracle. No action has been taken on their list of terms yet, but one party will need to relent at some point. However, one is worried about their bottom line, the other is a group of pissed off and stubborn hockey players. Even Jagr out east in Europe has called them all to congratulate them on this. Kris' office is the base of operations for now, he's the only one with a link to the PA. Erik comes in with some tea for his husband, and asks him. ''Who's emailing you now, hjartat?'' Kris takes his mug in his stiff hands. ''Tyler Myers from Vancouver, amour. Said the Canucks are wishing us well in this. Fourth team rep this morning.'' A notification pings on his laptop, Kris rolls his eyes. ''Make that a fifth.''

Erik smiles, and says. ''You go downstairs and chill, I'll handle this.'' Kris furrows his brows, and asks. ''Are you sure, amour?''

Erik nods, and says. ''We're in this strike together, right?'' Kris stands from his seat, and pops his back, kissing Erik's lips. ''Best husband ever.''

Erik takes his seat, and says. ''Right back at you, sweetheart.'' Kris goes downstairs, where Jack is playing chess with Drew, little Penny tucked up in his lap. The black kitten is the apple of his eye. ''You winning, Ivy?''

Jack says, concentrated on the board. ''Dunno yet.''

Kris reads while the boys carry on their game, Erik gets down not too long later. Finally done with the business end of the day, hopefully. Sometime into the afternoon, after lunch, a knock comes at the door. Erik goes to answer it, a courier with a long package for them. ''For Mr Letang and Mr Karlsson.''

Erik takes it in one arm. ''Thank you.'' He says, closing the door again, he sets the package on the dining table, and opens it. The contents set his blood on fire. A bottle of his and Kris' favourite wine, with a note.

From your friend, Kyle.

Friend? Since when? Erik calls his husband into the dining room. ''Kris, come here, please?'' Kris comes to join him, scandalized at what he sees, he reads the note, and balls it up. ''That fucking snake.'' They got three days into the strike, and now the love bombing begins. ''How did he even... Jason, of course.'' Erik says, uncorking the bottle, and dumping the red liquid down the sink. The bottle is thrown away, the cork is washed, and given to little Penny to play with. The note is tossed into the fireplace, Kris calls Sid. ''Sid, have you and Geno gotten a bottle of whiskey and vodka today?''

Sid sounds confused, but says. ''Yeah, just now, one of each, why?'' Kris says. ''Dump them both down the sink, they're from Kyle. He sent us a bottle of wine. Jason told him our favourite.''

Sid sighs, and says. ''Thought he'd try this.'' He must set his phone down, because Kris hears the cracking of bottle lids, and liquid being poured down their kitchen sink. ''Okay, I've done it.''

Erik says. ''Get onto the rest, if he's done the same, they'll need to do as we've done.''

Sid affirms to his brother and brother-in-law. ''Will do, see you both tomorrow. Love you both, and Jack too.'' Kris almost forgot about dinner at the Crosby-Malkin household tomorrow evening. Kris says, swallowing heavily. ''We love you too, give Geno a hug for us. Godspeed, brother.''

Jack asks, looking up from his phone. ''We're gonna win this fight, right?''

Erik assures him, the future of the d-corps shouldn't need to ask these questions, but, here they are. ''We've got each other, of course we'll win.'' That's the crux of this, a family who love each other are fighting against an organisation. This always goes well in the movies, doesn't it? Kris takes Penny into his hands, she's getting a bit bigger now, but she still fits for now. ''We'll be just fine, they'll cave eventually.'' Kris tries to sound certain of things, tries to sound confident in this strike working, but they have no fucking idea how this is going to go. No individual team has done this before, they're effectively on uncharted territory right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some of the team are gathered the following evening at Sid and Geno's place for dinner. This is also serving as a sort of progress meeting. Mario has relayed to them that Fenway are breathing down Kyle's neck to step down, but he's not moving. That sick part of Sid's mind pictures Kyle barricading himself in his office, and refusing to come out. He's sure Kris has had the same thought. During dinner, which has had to be spread around the dining room and living room to accommodate everyone, Rusty's phone rings. He puts it on speaker, and answers it, looking around the room at his family. ''Bryan Rust, who am I speaking to?''

Elliotte Friedman says. ''Hey, Bryan, it's Friedman, I was wondering if you'd be up for an interview about the team's recent labour strike?'' That's one of their terms, no media until this is resolved. ''Sorry, Friedman, I'm not doing media until our terms are met.''

Friedman pushes, as all media people do, because they only exist as long as the players do. ''I'm sure you could waive that, Bryan.''

Sid speaks up, putting on his best captain voice. ''He said no interview, leave us be.'' Rusty hangs up, let him have that at least. They get back on with dinner, determined not to let the call spoil the good mood. It's weird, how free they all feel while on this strike, they're not working, and have their days to themselves. These team dinners wouldn't be happening otherwise. ''Anyone had any texts from them yet?'' Erik asks.

Beauvillier says. ''No, nothing on my end.'' Drew nods, putting his feet up on the coffee table. ''Me neither, it's like they know we're not going to negotiate.''

Marcus says. ''There's nothing to negotiate, is there? They know we've got them dead to rights, they know we're not moving. They can't trade all of us, can they?''

Kris nods, relaxing in an armchair, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''I'm not going anywhere without my husband and brothers, bottom line. I played all those years without you, Erik, I'd not survive it a second time.''

Erik sits on the arm of Kris' chair, and takes his hand to kiss it gently. ''I'm not going anywhere away from you either, and if they get any ideas, I'll show them our wedding certificate.'' Sid says, looking lovingly at Geno. ''That's a good idea, Erik.''

Geno laughs, and kisses Sid's temple. ''Ours is in the bedroom, framed.''

Coming to a realization, the ball finally dropping about just what Kyle is up against with this strike, the four men who are the two great love stories in the league. Those two marriages, different, but equally strong, and the love for the team. ''Long live the Pittsburgh Power Couples, and the most dangerous quartet in this league.'' Ricky says.

Ned nods enthusiastically. ''Lead us to paradise, boys.''

While they're all chatting about what comes next in the coming days, Sid's phone rings. The room grows tense right away, dreading that call from Kyle or Mario, but Sid's glowing smile relaxes the room. He puts it to speaker. ''Good evening, superstar, how are you?'' It's Jake, thank God. Jake says, voice bright. ''Hi, guys! I'm good, Victor said he's proud of you guys. So am I, actually. How are you all doing? How's the strike working out?''

Geno says to their middle kid. ''We're doing just fine, lisichka. The strike is going well so far.''

Jake says. ''I couldn't believe it when I saw the statement, we were in a team meeting, and Shearsy said 'holy shit', and showed me his phone. It was such a shock.''

Kris says to his nephew. ''It was a shock to write, Jakey, but, it was necessary.''

Jake asks his family up north. ''Any progress on anything yet?'' Rusty says to his younger brother. ''Mario said Fenway are urging Kyle to step down and fire the coaching staff, but he's not budging. We've not been near the rinks in four days.''

Drew adds, informing his older brother. ''And, Rusty got asked for an interview this evening, we're on a media blackout too.'' Jake just laughs, probably wishing he could be part of this little thing with his family. ''Good for you! Victor and Kucherov can't stop talking about it right now.''

Erik asks, intrigued at what his best friend has been saying. ''What's Victor been saying, Jake?''

Jake says. ''He said he's really proud of you guys, and has been desperate to visit you all during this whole thing.'' He adds. ''Like, this is the first single team strike in history, and everyone is blown away.'' Sid says to Jake. ''Well, it's for the greater good, so it'll be worth it in the end.''

Jake says. ''I hope so, for all of your sakes. I'll let you guys go, love you guys!''

Geno says, smiling wide. ''We love you too, lisichka.'' Sid hangs up. Everyone heads home after that, further galvanized by the support they're receiving from the other teams. Something they never once expected to be given, and are eternally grateful for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of quiet days pass, six days of the strike, they've missed three games. No progress on their terms yet, but the team aren't backing off. No jerseys will be worn until things improve, no skates hit the ice, no sticks in hands. They're not open to negotiate, because there's nothing to negotiate. Management know what needs to be done, so it's on them to do it. Today, the core are meeting up at Mario's place. They're just done with lunch, and are chilling in the living room with coffee. The kids were going to come with them, but they decided on a movie day at Rusty's place. Sid takes a glance at his brother-in-law as they talk, Erik looks tired, like he barely slept last night. Erik rests his head on Kris' shoulder, and Kris runs his fingers through Erik's hair while talking with Geno. ''Are you okay, Erik?'' Mario asks, voicing his heir's concerns.

Erik nods, clearly enjoying his husband's attention. ''Yeah, took me ages to get to sleep last night, kept on having dreams about being split up from Kris.''

Geno says, voice tinged with compassion, he knows the pain those years caused Kris, those forced smiles for twelve years. He's had those anxieties himself, he'd never last a minute without Sid. ''I've had those dreams about me and Sid, they never get easier.''

Sid nods, taking Geno's hand in his. ''So have I, it's horrible, waking up in a cold sweat over something you know won't happen.'' He looks to Kris, and asks. ''What about you, Kris?''

Kris' eyes gloss over, he kisses Erik's head as though it's the Stanley Cup, it's not, Erik is more important. ''All the time, especially lately, with... everything we've set in motion. I just wake up, and see that Erik's next to me, and all is well again.''

Mario just sits back and listens to the boys, eminently aware that despite the greatness they've all reached, despite them all being well into their thirties, married, and surrogate parents for his grandkids. They're all still those boys from their draft years, nursing those same anxieties, and pack-bonded to each other in ways no one will ever understand. The two forwards who fell fast and hard for each other on the biggest stage possible. And, the two defencemen who had to nurture their own love in secret until so recently. They all deserve so much better than what they're getting, this strike has clearly been a long time in the making. It's then that Mario's phone rings. The quartet stop their conversation, and watch him leave the room to answer it. ''What are we thinking?'' Erik asks, suddenly alert despite the loving hand in his hair.

Sid swallows some coffee. ''I'd say, but I don't wanna jinx us.'' Geno asks, seeming expectant of the outcome they wanted. ''Do you think it's happening?''

Kris says, moving his hand to Erik's side. ''I guess we'll find out.'' There's a few minutes of silence, tense, hopeful, and desperate all at once somehow. ''Until death do us apart, Geno.'' Sid says, clearly expecting the worst.

Geno nods. ''For better or for worse, Sid.'' Sid leans over to kiss Geno's cheek.

Erik looks to Kris, and says. ''We are one when together, and we are one when parted, Kris.''

Kris leans his forehead against Erik's. ''We hold in our hands the making of this union, Erik.'' The wedding vows may seem a bit much, but they truly have no idea what this call is about. So, they retreat into them like a prayer. Mario comes back, a satisfied look on his face. ''Well, what's happening now?'' Sid asks.

Mario takes his seat again, and says. ''That was Fenway, there's a big announcement pending tomorrow, nothing to do with you four, or the others.''

The quartet share a look, they may have no idea what's coming, but whatever it is, it doesn't affect them. They should say this strike is working, that it's having the impact it was designed to have, but they have no idea of anything right now, and don't want to jinx anything yet. This is going to be a long evening, and an even longer night. These six days have been long and stressful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the team all gather at Sid and Geno's house for lunch, and to await the big announcement from the team owners. Mario didn't say anything to any of them about what to expect, indeed if he even was told himself. The strike has now lasted a week, it's been a week since they held that secret meeting and lit that fire across the league. Today very much feels like the calm before the storm, but Maverick and Penny don't know that, neither do Sam, Buddha, and Freya. The cats are being fussed over by Ned and Tristan, Penny is still attached to that wine cork Kris gave her. Kyle's last ditch effort to get the two defencemen back on side, now is the kitten's favourite toy. ''Ives, does Penny not have any other toys to play with?'' Tristan asks.

Jack sits down with them, and pets his cat behind the ear as she likes. ''Yeah, loads, but she loves that cork for some reason.''

Marcus asks. ''How did she even get it? Where did it come from?'' Erik sighs, putting his phone away, he says. ''Kyle sent us a bottle of our favourite wine on day three of the strike. A last effort to get us back on side, I dumped it down the sink, Kris washed the cork, and now it's Penny's.''

Matt says, laughing at the gesture. ''That's cold, turning an olive branch into a cat toy.''

Geno says, finding the channel the announcement will be on. ''He sent me some vodka and Sid some whiskey as well. Kris and Erik told us to dump them, and we did.''

The announcement comes on, that press conference room flashing up on the TV screen. The team share a look between themselves, here they go, the point of no return. The Fenway people take their seats, and announce the immediate departure of Kyle Dubas from the organisation, and Mario will be assuming management duties until summer. ''Dubas has made an impact on this team in his short tenure as General Manager and President of Hockey Operations. Including the signing of three time Norris winner - Erik Karlsson. But, we, and the players alike, wish to move forward without him.''

Erik cocks an eyebrow, eyes darkening. ''Fucking liar, he's not why I'm here, my husband is.'' Kris just chuckles, and leans over to kiss Erik's cheek.

Seems like the only front office people staying are Amanda and Jason, everyone is going in this except them. They also announce that Mario will be looking for new coaching staff, from the ground up. But, no further news other than that. The broadcast ends. There's a cautiously triumphant air in the room now, that's one of their three most important terms reached. Now, they can sort of relax while waiting for further news. ''Well, looks like we're winning anyway.'' Rusty says.

Sid nods, ruffling Sam's ears. ''Yeah, we are, for once.''

Erik vents, rapping his fingers against his coffee mug. ''Can't believe that snake took credit for me being here, I'd have signed with any GM here. I didn't come here for him, or Jason, or a cup. I came here for you, Kris.''

Kris tries to calm his husband down, easier said than done sometimes, but he's the only person able to most of the time. ''I know that, darling, everyone knows that. And, we're together now, forever. And, we're winning.''

Anthony asks, picking at his fingernails. ''What do we do next?'' Sid says, matter of fact as always. ''Our strike doesn't end until at least the first three of our terms are met. It's been a week now, it can't be much longer, Mario always has a plan.''

Kris adds, voice tinged with both satisfaction and a laugh from Erik's little rant. ''We're a third of the way there, we just need to wait a bit longer.''

Drew asks, having never played under any other coach. ''Who'll be our new coaches, then?''

Geno shrugs, they're in truly uncharted waters for the first time in over a decade now, new management, and soon-to-be completely new coaching staff. ''No idea, luchik, guess we'll find out soon.'' Jack asks, also curious about how all of this will be playing itself out over the coming days. ''What if Kyle goes to media before we're allowed to again? You've gotta know he'll be all too willing to play the victim. Play into being a well meaning GM overthrown by his players.''

Erik simply states, sounding very much like the Senator he once was, the serious captain rather than the domesticated husband he is now. ''He goes low, we go lower, skatten mitt.''

Noel asks, a cheeky glint in his eyes. ''Is that your way of saying 'fuck around and find out', Karl?''

Erik nods, and states. ''Pretty much, yeah.'' Kris says, linking their arms. ''I'd say we've left 'fuck around' now, and are in the 'find out' stage of proceedings.''

They probably shouldn't be as pleased with this as they are, Kyle did seem to have good intentions, and they all loved Sully in their own ways. But, something broke when Jake left, trading Lars was a Rubicon the team didn't need to cross. Missing those two playoffs by a couple of points because of more of the same every year. Sometimes, things need to change, sometimes reality needs to be reckoned with. Now, a new era can begin, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Everyone leaves not long after the announcement, but the core hang back for a bit to talk in private. Some conversations have to happen for their ears only. If this strike has yielded them anything, it's a deeper reliance on each other. ''Our new era begins, I guess.'' Geno says, Maverick on his lap, the grey cat purring contentedly. Sid nods, turning his wedding ring on his finger as he does when deep in thought. ''It does, feels good already.''

Erik gets done clipping Freya's leash onto her collar. ''Good to see we had the right idea, shame it came to this, but I'm glad we did this before the rot could set in further.''

Kris ruffles Buddha's ears, instantly feeling the stress lift between the four of them. ''Shame to lose Sully and the rest, but they'll be fine elsewhere. We wouldn't be, and they knew it. Kyle threatening us was out of line.''

Sitting forward a bit, Geno says, a wry smile on his face. ''I'm impressed at how dangerous we are when we work together, y'know? Wonder what this would've been like if Flower was still here?'' Sid laughs at his husband's question. ''Absolute chaos, honey, absolute chaos.''

Erik says, one of his regrets about not coming here sooner. ''I'd have loved to play with Flower, he always annoyed me in Ottawa and San Jose.''

Standing from the sofa, Kris kisses him on the temple. ''He'd have shown you every single way to annoy me there is, mon amour.'' Erik shrugs, rising to his feet himself. ''Doesn't mean I'd have used them, hjartat mitt.''

Kris and Erik get going to their car, and get home. Jack is at his apartment this week, so it'll be just them and the dogs. Erik goes over to their award shelves once they're indoors, and picks up the ties from in front of their wedding picture. Turning them in his hand gently. ''Erik?'' Kris asks, placing his hand on Erik's back. Erik assures him, placing the velvet ties down in their place. ''Just... happy, that's all, Kris.''

Kris takes his hands, and says. ''So am I.'' They kiss, finally free of the constant trade anxiety they've been living in. Now, all they need to do is win the rest of their terms. And, they're back on ice together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The team are left in a kind of holding pattern for a couple of days. The first - and most important - of their terms has been met, and Mario will be in charge until at least summer. But, there's still no news on coaching staff, so there will be no return to play until the second and third terms are met. The core are now gathered together at Kris and Erik's house, mostly just to talk about where they go from here. Sid, Geno, and Erik are getting lunch together while Kris is answering a barrage of emails in the dining room. He's in desperate need of a backup PA representative, but it's just him for now. He's just done with an email from Jason Zucker in Buffalo, and gets to the email from Logan Couture in San Jose. Two of seven he's had today alone. Finally, he gets done with everything, and can put the laptop away. ''God, that was a marathon.'' He says to the rest as they sit down to lunch.

Sid asks, digging into his pasta. ''What are the PA saying?'' Kris forks some of his lunch, and says. ''Congratulating us on the progress so far mostly, and telling us to keep holding on. Stuff we already know, but it's good to have in our back pocket.''

Geno muses to the rest. ''Wonder if Mario has our new coaches yet?'' Erik drinks some water, and says. ''Probably, you all said he moves quickly, so we're probably going to find out soon.''

As if on cue, heir phones ding as Erik says that. A notification from Mario himself in a mass text to the whole team. He's somehow convinced Alain Vigneault to come out of retirement as interim head coach. Paul Coffey - all of whose records Kris has broken in his nineteen years as a Penguin - will be both defence and powerplay coach. And, for the goalies, Jeff Zatkoff - who the trio played with for a while - will be taking over. ''Holy shit, that's a good coaching trio.'' Sid says.

Geno nods in agreement, finishing his lunch. ''Yeah, hope it all works out for us, when do we get back to work, then?''

Kris says, firing a text to Flower on their progress. ''Mario needs to issue a set of boundaries to the media too, then we go back to work. He'll probably do that tomorrow by the looks of it.''

Erik takes his hair down from it's bun, and sits back in his seat. ''Can't wait to get back in the saddle now, working with Coffey is gonna be interesting.''

Kris ponders out loud, he's not worked under a fellow French-Canadian since junior. ''Wonder how he convinced Vigneualt to come back.''

Texting someone, Sid says. ''Us, maybe? The idea of coaching the four of us got him back?'' They begin clearing the table, that sounds possible, and Sid is normally right about these things. Nine days of striking have been successful so far, and they'll probably be back on ice this side of the weekend. ''Is Kyle taking credit for you being here still annoying you, Erik?'' Geno asks.

Erik says, laughing a bit. ''Not really, we all know who got me here, let him have his delusions. He can think anything he wants, doesn't make it true.''

Sid noticed Kris' face turning slightly pink, his brother has always been bad at taking compliments or being fawned over, even now it's a struggle to get him to accept praise. ''Tanger, you good, brother?'' Kris clears his throat. ''Oh, yeah, just... my husband, y'know?''

Erik says, sitting himself down next to Kris on their sofa. ''I'm only speaking the truth, sweetheart. He can delude himself all he wants into thinking I'm here for him, you put this ring on my finger.''

Sid laughs, and says. ''It was him threatening Geno that did me in, like, who does he think he is to do that?'' Geno joins them on the couch, and says. ''Our boss, solnishko?''

Sid concedes that, but says. ''We was our boss, honey, and a shit one at that. I hated Hextall, but he wasn't nearly as bad.'' Kris nods, in full agreement with Sid. ''Oh, tell me about it, Hextall was an ass when he wanted to be, but I'd take that over stupid any day.''

Erik says, feeling that cloud of uncertainty lifting a slight, these last nine days have been stressing everyone out. ''I'm just glad we're making the progress we wanted.'' That much is universal now, the air does feel lighter now that things are progressing for them, and they will be back to work sooner rather than later. They don't have clue one as to how Mario will draw boundaries for the media scrums after games and training sessions, that's going to be easier said than done, but, they're two thirds the way back to work. And, their new coach has actually won the Jack Adams. So, there's something to boast about now at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, Mario had a plan for media scrums all along. He's getting rid of them entirely in favour of proper press conferences. This time, they're going to be taken in pairs for media, and will be allowed to veto any questions they don't want to answer. The new code of conduct for the press is issued via the team's website and social media. No news on Rusty's idea of bringing back In The Room, but all three of their bigger terms are met now. So, the strike is over after ten days. Kris issues another statement through the team's union instagram account.

To the city of Pittsburgh, and all Penguins fans. This past ten days have been dramatic both in public and in private. And, we apologize for any undue stress this strike has placed upon anybody. We would like to thank you all for bearing with us over the past ten days while we have worked for the greater good of the team and our fans - both in the city and elsewhere. You have all been so supportive and patient with us, and we could not be more thankful. We would like to thank Fenway Sports Group for listening to our terms, and acting in the best interests of our team and its legacy as champions. We would like to extend our thanks and condolences to Kyle Dubas, who worked as well as he was able to in his short tenure in charge of our team. We are human, and all of us make mistakes. We also give our love and thanks to outgoing head coach Mike Sullivan for his decade of service to our team, and those back-to-back cups. We wish him all the best in his future endeavors. We also welcome back aboard Mario Lemieux, who will lead us until summer in the front office. And, we welcome our new coaches: Jack Adams winner Alain Vigneault, and Penguins veterans Paul Coffey and Jeff Zatkoff. We cannot wait to get back in the saddle under their guidance. Tomorrow, we will be back at Cranberry, in our jerseys and skates, training for our return to play from this labour strike. The first of its kind in hockey history, and hopefully the last. We are eager to play again, and cannot wait to see our fans again, and be able to look them in the eye. Thank you all for your kindness, patience, and support over the last ten days. See you all very soon. Best regards, The Pittsburgh Penguins Team.

The statement is honest, earnest, and tactful. Kris was careful not to mince their words with it, they should not have been pushed to a ten day labour strike in the first place, but they were, and it somehow worked exactly as they wanted it to. And, today, a day after the statement went out, they all congregate at Cranberry again. For the first time in over a week, they're here for training purposes, and will be working even harder now than they ever have. They're all a little apprehensive to begin with, worried about getting in trouble for that stunt, but, all it takes is the core striding into the dressing room in lock step with each other, for the rest of the team to relax. Alain walks in for the first time, and gives a little briefing. ''Good morning, boys, I'm very excited to get started with you. Not the most conventional way to get new coaches in, I'll admit that, but I respect it. I want this to be a partnership, and for you all to be able to tell me what you need. So... shall we get going?''

Sid looks to his Alternates, Erik included, and gets the same look back. ''Let's do this.''

They take to the ice again, and get to working with the new coaching system. Jeff drilling both Tristan and Ned on the new tactics they'll be working through. Kris and Erik give Paul the rundown on everything Quinn and Todd before him were doing wrong, and they set about devising new battle strategy. Alain first talks with the forwards, getting the backstory on their recent form under Sully, then, gathers the whole team for a stand around at center ice. ''Right, looks like quite a bit of change is needed, and I promise you all we'll get this season back on track.'' They get on with some drills and a short three on three scrimmage before heading for lunch. During which, Mario tells the core that Sportsnet want them for an interview tomorrow. ''Guess we've got nowhere to hide now, do we?'' Erik asks.

Sid shakes his head, and says. ''Not anymore we don't, no, now that our strike is over.''

They approve the interview, and get back to eating. For the first time in weeks, feeling cautiously optimistic about where the team is going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrive at PPG Paints the next morning for their sit down interview with Elliotte Friedman, they were briefed on questions last night, and allowed to veto some of them. Thankfully, there wasn't too much to negotiate around. They find the media room they're using, the arena all done up for their game tonight, their first back since the strike began twelve days ago. Friedman welcomes them in politely, and they sit down to their interview with him. It may seem a bit unfair, one person interviewing four, but, they move together or not at all. ''Good day, gents, twelve days ago you four set something historic. The first single-team labour strike in hockey history. How on earth did you manage to pull that off?''

Sid answers this one, shifting in his seat. ''We didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. If we were being better managed and better coached, these twelve days wouldn't have happened. But, we just came to the agreement, and pulled the trigger.''

Friedman asks them next about the statements. ''Who wrote your two statements that are on instagram?'' Kris looks a bit bashful, but happily admits. ''That was me, we brainstormed the first, but I wrote them both. The PA gave me advice on how to word it, I was going to translate it into French and Swedish, but there was no time.''

The timeline is still fuzzy for outsiders, so Friedman asks them. ''How long was the strike in the works for?''

Geno answers this one, best with timelines of the four. ''Since the 6-0 loss on game one to the Rangers, we were just holding out for things to improve.''

Erik adds, backing his brother-in-law up. ''We four spend a lot of time together, and the idea of a strike was floating around in the air for a while. Kris and I would visit Sid and Geno, or they'd visit us, and it'd be an idea we'd talk about a lot.''

Friedman addresses the two captains, who have Dubas contracts. ''Now; Sid, Erik - you signed your contracts with Dubas, was there no loyalty to him that you had to dodge?''

Chuckling and shaking his head, Sid says. ''No, I signed to stay with my family, not for him. I have a huge family here: these three, the boys, Ivy, and Tristan. They are why I'm still here.'' Nodding in agreement, Erik shows off his wedding ring. ''This is why I'm here, Elliotte, I came here for Kris, and found everything I've ever needed. I'd have signed that contract no matter who was in that office.''

The duo with Hextall contracts share a laugh, Geno says to Kris. ''We're so lucky, eh, Legend?''

Kris nods, squeezing Erik's hand. ''Yeah, we are, G.''

Friedman says, directing conversation back to the strike. ''There's so much talk these days about athletes as exploited workers, do you four hope this gives other athletes the courage to do the same?'' Kris nods, he of all people knows the damage this sport does. ''Yeah, we do. I mean, all four of us have given our bodies and health for the thing we love, as every hockey player does. So, we expect good coaching and accountable management in return.''

Sid says, picking up on that thread. ''Between my concussions, Geno's knees, Kris' strokes and heart defect, and Erik's various injuries. Sometimes things just get to be too much for too little reward.''

Friedman says, to conclude the interview. ''Three new coaches, a totally new era, are you guys looking forward to it all?'' Geno's face lights up, forever ready for the grind. ''Yeah, things look so much better already.''

Smiling to the rest, Erik says. ''We also promised to lead the team to paradise, and that's exactly what we intend to do ourselves. Without us, this whole thing falls apart.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They get back in for the game tonight, hosting Utah. Alain's units are the same, but the game-plan is completely different. He's encouraging the guys to be as aggressive as possible, and to just shoot first and ask questions later. Exactly as Dan had the trio doing back in the day. They get out for warmups, feeling like they're beginning the season completely anew. The first period is like the lights have come back on, Drew and Anthony netting amazing goals for 2-0 by first break. ''Good goals so far, boys, we're looking much better, very impressed already.'' Alain says.

They get back out for second period, Ricky netting a breakaway goal five minutes in assisted by Marcus. ''Good rush, boys!'' Paul commends them both. They're 3-0 up, and for once, it doesn't feel like they're in imminent danger of giving it up like they used to. If Kris didn't know any better, he'd think Flower came back with some of the saves Tristan has made tonight. ''Never knew how good Tristan was.'' Jeff says from behind the bench.

Kris remarks, his godson is so much like his brother. ''Flower chose him as his rookie for a reason.''

Clayton Keller gets a lucky bounce goal for 3-1 by second break. But, for the first time in years, they feel like they can keep this lead afloat rather than just try to limp to the end of the game.

The third period is all Pittsburgh hockey, the new brand of it, Erik and Kris get a shift together, and annoy the shit out of the old Coyotes. Kris wires a pass to Kevin Hayes, who puts it away for 4-1. ''Thanks, Tanger.''

Towards the end of the game, the third unit is out to close the game up in style. Kris and Erik watch Jack attentively, he's so good, directing traffic like Kris, and leading the charge like Erik. Anthony gives him a pass, and Jack makes it work to close the game out 5-1 for the reborn Penguins.

After press conferences for the goal scorers and the new coach, they all get ready to head home. Cautiously hopeful for this season to turn itself around now that they've gotten what they asked for in their strike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The games roll along after their back to back home wins against Utah and Vancouver. The most dramatic November of their lives finally comes to its end, and they're beginning to claw their way back up in the standings. Mario comes in after training one day to give Erik his new jersey, with an A on it. It was high time for it, really, with how much Erik helped organize everything for those eleven days. Erik tries on the new jersey before they go to lunch, the golden A on his chest. Kris buries his face in his hands, fighting the flush to his cheeks. The entire room bursts out laughing at him. ''You good, hjartat?'' Erik asks, cheeky as ever.

Kris gives a thumbs up, and says. ''I'm fine, amour.''

This will help the team massively down the mid and late season stretches. Having two leaders up front and two on the back end. Spreading the workload more evenly around the team. Rusty has also been made Kris' backup in the PA. To save Kris the added stress of having to do it all himself. For the first time in so long, things start to feel like they're going to be okay again. They'll probably never get those 2015 to 2018 glory days back, not before the end of this current era, but they can come close. Who knows? Maybe they might get that energy back at some point soon?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days after another big win, the usual group gather for breakfast at Sid and Geno's place. Drew and Tristan are gushing over their highlight goal and save from their last game, Rusty and Jack are talking about the goal they combined for as well. The four elder Penguins are just listening intently, their heirs are finally in trustworthy hands again. A sixth cup is a pipe dream at best this season, not that they're especially worried about that for now. They'll cross that bridge if they ever get there. But, the future four are actually excited to play hockey again, as are the current four, and that's all that really matters. ''Wonder what the rest of the year's gonna look like now.'' Rusty says.

Sid says. ''I think we're gonna be fine now, champion.'' That much they do need to carry with them from now on, things are better now, and the roster has come out relatively unscathed. Just missing Lars, but he's home in Washington now.

Jack asks, putting his dishes in the washer. ''You two said this strike was for me, what did you mean by that?'' Ah, so he does remember the chat the three of them had on day three.

Erik says, smiling. ''The four of us have to do everything we can, before a cup comes into the conversation, to set the four of you up for life after us, skatten mitt.''

Kris adds, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''Everything Erik and I can do to set you up to become the team's top defenceman, we will, mon dauphin. If reason fails, try force.''

Tristan asks, clearly wondering about his dad, who is retiring this year. ''Would Flower have helped us? If he was still here?'' Geno nods, and assures him. ''He would have, probably earlier than we did.''

Drew finishes his coffee, and adjusts his beanie, hiding the weird choice he made with his hair - or lack thereof - a couple of weeks ago. ''I'd love to see the five of you scheming together, you know? It'd be carnage!''

Sid smiles, eyes filled with nostalgia for those golden days, even if there was a few pieces to the puzzle missing at the time. ''So would we, sunshine.'' He adds. ''This - all of it - will be yours at some point, and we have to give you four the best chance possible.''

Kris nods, and says, tapping his nails on his tea mug, no coffee for him since 2014. ''And, if it comes to it, we'll do it all over again until it sticks.''

Rusty bursts out laughing, humoured by the serious faces of his dads and uncles. ''That's a bit excessive, Kris.''

Sitting back in his chair, Geno shrugs. ''It's not if it's necessary, medvezhonok.''

Erik nods, cracking his knuckles. ''Preach.''

What the future four will never truly reckon with is that the current core are completely honest. The four of them have dealt with too much bullshit of their own, too many slimy general managers, feckless coaches, and lying media people. The strike wasn't just about them being unhappy with the team's results. It was breaking a cycle, breaking the wheel, and - if fate treats them nicely this time around - the wheel will stay broken. It should have started when Flower left, or at the very least when PO and Jake left, but it didn't. At least it happened, though. Things can only be bent so much until they break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The claw back period of the season meanders on, the new coaching staff have things ticking like a clock for the first time in two years. And, the team have agreed to have weekly meetings now to assess things together without anyone looking or listening in. They've even been granted a media room in both arenas for their meetings. With a nice round table so everyone can see and hear each other better. After the sixth consecutive win of the new era, they have a team meeting, and get home to rest up. Ever a union member, Kris wonders if they will set the new precedent of teams in all leagues being more comfortable to bring strike action against their management. He's served in the PA for ages now, and this might be one of the biggest things he's ever been part of.

But, the worrying and thinking period is long over now. It's time to just get the heads down and elbows out, and win these games. They've got one hell of a mountain to climb, and to any other team, it'd be terrifying.

But, that's the thing, the Penguins have never been a normal team, and they're damn proud of it as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, got her done! So... this might be a lot to take in, and I have no idea if this would be allowed in the first place. But, whole league lockouts are a thing, so single team strikes might also be? I'd not be shocked to learn that a team in, like, the SHL striked against their bosses once upon a time. But, here she finally is! Never thought I'd get this fic done, but every loss the Pens took was just more ammo in my arsenal.

This is basically a vent fic with some shipping in it, so this might feel a bit... odd to read. But, this has been so cool to write, especially given the grey rocking the boys give to Kyle! That was fun to write for sure!

Sorry this took so damned long as well, it is currently two degrees celsius in Scotland, and my fucking hands have been freezing cold ever since the start of the week. No idea what causes it, but I just live around it for the most part.

Enjoy!

#tangerkarlsson #sidgeno #hockey rpf

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dbaydenny · 7 months ago

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Ma was a farm girl,

Pa full of plain common sense

recognized her worth

and off they ran, eloping

to race through life together.

D W Eldred

#poetry #tanka #elopement

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mushiemellows · 2 months ago

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The Sunday Affair: Chapter 11. Pas de Deux-- FINALE

Cold War Spies AU Rating: E Words: 108,899 (complete) Summary: 1967, Washington DC. Special Agent Flam has been assigned to find the assassin responsible for blowing his arms deal. The Communist spy only known as Sunday now has him in their sights. But Franky's been super busy lately, starting with his new wife. Their sudden elopement brings with it the hope of a peaceful future, and the promise of pain. Robin may be hiding a few secrets, but she's not the only spy in the shadows.

Everyone’s coming to the Christmas party.

Bentham and Franky quit their jobs.

We all have some cheesy action movie fun.

On Ao3

#one piece #my fic #cyborg franky #frobin #nico robin #ao3 #spies au

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wisteriagoesvroom · 1 year ago

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unnecessarily specific college!au f1 driver headcanons, part 3. professors edition!

(if you want to start from the beginning: part 1, the undergrads, here and part 2, more undergrad headcanons.)

alonso

- major: archaeology (never graduated)

- left school in the final year to be a skydiving instructor and then went on a site dig in Central America in the early 2000s

- there’s a plaque with his name on campus because he’s climbed like 4 of the world’s highest mountains, gone in a submarine into the Mariana Trench, and discovered at least one new species along the way

- other claim to fame is being in the national newspaper’s crossword at the age of 23

- notorious for breaking the rules when on expeditions and skirting the line of safety but gets away with it because he’s a big name in the field and brings investment to his (sort of) alma mater

- appears once on campus to give an inspirational talk. doesn’t rehearse, switches it to a q&a format at the last minute, people enjoy it anyway (because it’s not rehearsed). George tries to strike up a conversation with him afterwards and Alonso just pawns him off to his PA

- wears a different coloured bandana to every dig/hike/expedition. hates closed toe shoes.

vettel

- teaches: molecular structures in microbiology

- precise prof and a tough grader, but nice

- came over a competing college several years ago. people from that college say he was a demon and a notorious asshole when he taught there, but he doesn’t seem that way now.

- lando starts a betting pool about when Vettel will have a proper meltdown (it happens not when lando suspends the prof’s hole punch in a cube of jelly. it actually happens when charles and him cannot see eye-to-eye about the future of ocean conservation)

- wears ties with animals and insects on them. his favourite one is a gift from charles when charles graduates, it has bumblebees and his initials SV on it.

- alex digs up an article one day and everyone gawks at it because prof seb won some cross-continent European woodworking competition when he was 15

- nobody knows if he’s dating anyone, only to find out on the last week of second year that he’d eloped

hamilton

- teaches: philosophy of ethical economics

- has done several ted talks and is often invited to international forums with world leaders (like the WEF, Bloomberg Sustainable Investment Forum etc)

- there’s a student GC trying to predict what his hairstyles will be like every month, usually with 50% accuracy

- one of the first profs to pioneer public access to the private university via open university modules; definitely has a tie up going on with EdX or similar

- people think max will be the one to piss him off in seminars but it’s actually george who has deeply different opinions to prof hamilton on the issues of land tax

- famous for his induction / opening year classes which involve all students standing on their chairs in a circle and chanting an invocation until they can state the colours of their auras. it’s bizarre and somehow it works

- his TAs are the coolest people ever

- somehow fits a 36 hour day into 24 hours

- his spotify wrapped includes the hamilton soundtrack, britney, 90s rap, and Tibetan gong soundscapes on his 10 most listened of the year

- his favourite word is mobius. only him and nico know that this used to be their safeword.

rosberg

- taught: political economy

- former prof who went into industry and is now a venture capitalist

- used to be super close friends (“close” “friends”) with Hamilton. they went to the same prep school, rushed at the same finals club, were famous via the university debate team for their immaculate takedowns of other teams including a legendary debate final in their late 2000s student years

- had a massive falling out when rosberg decided to pursue a career instead of staying in academia

- feels a deep connection to andrew garfield’s portrayal of eduardo saverin

- similar to carla, dad’s name is also on a lecture hall, but nico had much more of an inferiority complex about it

- prof wolff once told him “i don’t see your future here ever surpassing prof hamilton’s”. Nico rage-quit once he had an offer from a VC firm and now Nico spends every other media interview subtly making digs about this

- somehow still lives in the same apartment complex as lewis though he drives a much better car now (a benz GTC roadster)

#f1 rpf #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso #brocedes #yes i spent too long thinking about this #but what else is tumblr for #wiz.HCs

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emma-walsh · 1 year ago

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emma noelle walsh (clarke)

✱ hometown: los angeles, ca

✱ birthday: july 11th, 1999

✱ occupation: occasional PA/full-time screenwriter

✱ background: as the only daughter of a film producer and a makeup artist, Emma grew up on film sets and always loved the glitz and glamour of all that went into making a movie. knowing from pretty early on that she wanted a career in the same field as her parents, she made the decision to apply to all of the top film schools in the country, thrilled when she got into UCLA, her first choice. not wanting any handouts from her parents within the industry, she worked her way through university and graduated in the spring of 2022, her parents cheering her on all the way.

✱ updated background: with her first major screenplay being made into a film and premiering this past spring, Emma was ready for a relaxing summer with her boyfriend Flynn, the two of them deciding to spend the summer months abroad so they could travel. what was easily the best summer of her life ended in the best way, finding out that she’s pregnant with their first baby. the pair were over the moon and quickly decided to elope, unable to wait any longer to be husband and wife. they decided to plan a proper wedding for sometime next year after the baby is here so everyone they love can celebrate with them. now about five months pregnant, Emma has decided to put most of her focus on getting their house ready for the baby as well as a little wedding planning just so most of that can be finished by the time their baby arrives in the spring.

#( bio repost and update! )

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smallraindrops-blog · 8 months ago

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The Eros of May

WMFTD!Y/N x Hypnos

(The last day)

Wordcount: 550

Summary: Told in snapshots. There is a beautiful man with sleepy golden eyes, warm skin kissed by the sun and the lingering days of spring.

Warnings: no beta

notes: a writing challenge for myself, I took two different challenges and mashed them together. Credit to this post and this post and their creator for making these challenges.

One more thing, these are out-of-order, not a straight timeline. Sorry for any confusion.

To find the rest, use ‘The eros of may’ tag please.

Thanks to everyone for coming along with this journey with me. With two minutes left before midnight, here is the last part of TEOM ( a03 link will be posted later once i edit it.)

Thanks again, my friends.

….

Am i allowed to cry at my own writing?

Memory lane.

The end happened on a perfect summer day.

The Mediterranean Sea gleamed that impossible blue, so bright that it hurts to look for long. Wild poppies and daisies and so many colorful wildflowers grew on the hills of ancient ruins. Stone that was here before you and will be long after you were nothing but dust.

You took a terrified breath then another.

With a boastful laugh, your dad clasped his arm on your shoulders as he watched you fight down the panic. “Remember, waiting is the worst part. Which is why me and your Pa eloped.”

”You were a pair of teenage runaways.” You replied sharply, brushing a hand down on the suit. Your eyes darted down to the beach, watching as children ran between the chairs. Family and friends were milling about, chatting as they waited for the ceremony.

Hermes was laughing at something Pa said, as Hypnos’ mother sat with Zagreus’ parents for companionship. It was a beautiful scene.

You didn’t tell him that you and Hypnos almost eloped but Hypnos had really wanted his family to be there. And whatever Hypnos wanted, so did you.

”We were.” Achilles laughed, his smile growing soft. “I never could have imagined a better life.”

You nodded, parting your lips when you heard footsteps behind you. Achilles straightened his back and pulled you into a tight hug. He whispered, “I am so proud of you. I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too.” You told him, returning the hug. Achilles gave you a manly pat on the back and hurried down the path.

Faintly you heard Thanatos’ voice. “Just say the word, I got the car and he won’t find us.”

You shifted on your feet, a little annoyed that Hypnos’ twin was willing to play runaway driver. Mostly you were glad that Hypnos had someone willing to do that for him.

When they rounded the cliffside, you felt breathless when you saw him. You didn’t see Thanatos’ scowling expression, like he wished you would just drop dead.

Hypnos was gorgeous in a simple dark red suit, his hair flowing in the cool breeze. His smile grew when he saw you, and you knew you looked like a fool with your own smile.

Ruefully, Thanatos let his twin go, watching with an odd sort of bittersweetness. Hypnos rushed to you. You met him halfway, and swung him around in your arms.

He was laughing when you put him down, his cheeks flushed. Gods, help you he was perfect. You wanted to kiss him but you resisted, knowing Hypnos would tell you to wait.

“I will go tell everyone to get seated.” Thanatos said, walking past them. He shot you a look, a silent warning not to ever break Hypnos’ heart again.

Once he was down at the beach, calling for people to sit, you looked down at the gorgeous man in your arms. He looked back up at you, his smile brighter than the sea itself.

“Ready?” You whispered, pressing your forehead against his.

“Ready.” He said, cupping your cheek.

The music began.

Arm in arm, you and Hypnos walked down the path to the beach, toward the shining blue seas.

The end happened under a wedding arch of daisies, with a single kiss to seal vows evermore, but so did a new beginning.

#wake me from this dreaming #hypnos x male!reader #The Eros of may

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jerzwriter · 6 months ago

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Meet Caseys Mono~Poly Mom: Rose D'Allesandro

Those who read my Tobias x Casey HC may be familiar with Casey's parents, Rose and David. Please note that their characters and their history will be quite different here.

Name: Rose Angelica D'Alessandro

Hometown: Philadelphia, PA

Age: 57 upon her introduction in Chapter 5

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Relationship Status: Single but in a long-term relationship

Occupation: Writer, Editor

Faceclaim: Diane Lane

Personality traits: Kind, loyal, devoted mother. Driven, strong-willed, determined. Open-minded, welcoming. Independent, creative.

Other facts:

Rose was raised in a strict, traditional Italian-American Roman Catholic family. While she identifies with the close-knit bonds and loyalty of her family, she doesn't always agree with their values.

She dated a famous rockstar in her late teens/early 20s (to her family's chagrin).

At 25, she eloped and married Casey's father, David. Her family did not approve of David because he wasn't Catholic, and the elopement put a strain on their relationship. But when Rose became pregnant with Casey, they made amends.

She was a homemaker when Casey was young but began working odd jobs when she and David separated when Casey was still a child. It was Casey who encouraged her mother to return to pursuing her dream of becoming a writer. While Rose had moderate success there, she ended up with a lucrative position as an editor with a major publishing company.

After a difficult divorce, she vowed never to marry again, and at 57, she seems to be keeping true to that. She has a long-term partner but no plans on marrying.

She is very close with Casey, though sometimes they clash. Casey is resentful over how the divorce and aftermath impacted her as a child, but she and her mother worked that out.

Rose is open-minded now, but sometimes, it takes her time to warm up. When Casey told her she was bisexual during her college years, Rose needed a short time to understand/adjust, but once she did, she became one of her daughter's strongest advocates.

Rose remains in Philadelphia but makes frequent trips to Boston to see Casey, and Casey also visits home often.

She is a phenomenal cook and enjoys theater and photography.

While Rose is still in touch with her family, Casey has cut most of them off due to their opposing beliefs.

Mono~Poly Original Characters Mono~Poly Series Information Mono~Poly Series Masterlist

My Main Masterlist

#mono-poly #mono-poly characters #rose d'allesandro #casey's mom #open heart #open heart choices #tobias x casey au

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shadowtriovibes · 2 years ago

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hello loves!! i’ve just hit 100 followers and i thought it might be nice to tell you a little bit about me 🫡

my name is kayleigh and i’m turning 28 this fall (virgo hive rise)

my wedding is in one month!!! (but my husband and i are already legally married and i cannot recommend eloping enough if you’re considering getting married bc wedding planning is hell)

today was my bridal shower 🥹

i currently live in PA but i’ve also lived in manhattan/brooklyn, DC and paris

i work in marketing as a technical writer but i’d love to have a more creative writing career someday!

in addition to writing i love travel, film and TV, whiskey, biking and trashy pop music

the pressure of wedding planning and getting a diagnosis for an uncommon health condition i have has made me feel pretty lonely and sad so i’ve rejoined tumblr for the first time in at least four years in hopes of making some new friends, feeling creative inspiration again and getting some feedback that can help me improve my writing!

my inbox is always open if anyone wants to say hi, chat or request any writing 🥰

#personal

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truecrimepromiseversion2 · 2 years ago

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Disappearance of Beverly Sharpman

Beverley Sharpman circa 1947 (The Doe Network)

Beverly Sharpman

Physical Description

Full Name: Beverly Sharpman

Date of Birth: December 10, 1930

Race/Ethnicity: White/Caucasian

Sex: Female

Height: 5′0″ - 5′6″ (60 inches - 66 inches) (152.4 cm - 167.64 cm)

Weight: 100 - 180 lbs (45.35 kg - 81.65 kg)

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Nicknames/Aliases: Babe

Distinguishing Characteristics

Hair was long and wavy

Family

Mother

Father

Brother

Misc. Info

Worked at a clerk job in downtown though she resigned from it the day before she disappeared

Was going to be a senior at Overbrook High School before she disappeared

Case Information

Age at Disappearance: 17 (92 if still alive as of April 23, 2023)

Missing Since: September 11, 1947 (Missing for 75 years as of April 23, 2023)

Location Last Seen: Philadelphia, Philadelphia County, Pennsylvania, USA

Location Last Seen on Google Maps: https://www.google.com/maps/place/39%C2%B057'09.3%22N+75%C2%B009'54.8%22W/@39.9525839,-75.1652215,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m4!3m3!8m2!3d39.9525839!4d-75.1652215

Case Classification: Endangered Missing

Dentals: Not Available

Fingerprints: Not Available

DNA: Available

Clothing & Personal Effects

Gray or Brown suit or dress

Brown in Black shoes

Flush Colored stockings

Earirngs

Suitcase

Circumstances of Disappearance

Beverly was reportedly last seen at the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Station at 24th and Chestnut Streets carrying a suitcase and sent her parents a telegram telling them she was leaving home to marry and not to worry. She was never heard again. The day before her disappearance she appeared to be troubled and wanted to tell her mother something but later changed her mind and her mother decided to not press her about it.

Unidentified Person Exclusions (NamUs)

https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/7034/investigations (30)

Misc. Info

The Text of the Telagram: "Got married. Leaving town. Will not be back. Don't worry. Babe."

Police labeled her a runaway but they still searched for her

Beverly had taken $175 dollars from her savings account

She had told coworkers that she was going to Chicago and while she has relatives in Chicago, those relatives reported that they never seen or heard from Beverly

Beverly had no boyfriends and none of her friends know of any men in her life nor of anyone she would eloped with

Authorities had checked marriage-license bureaus in all 50 states but didn’t found any evidence that Beverly had married

There were many reported sightings of Beverly in cities all over the United States after her disappearance but none of them were confirmed

Her parents published advertisements in newspapers in attempt to appeal for to contact them but she never reached out.

A theory is that she ran away because of an illegitimate pregnancy as it was a heavy stigma in the 1940s though nothing found support that theory

Contact Information/Investigating Agencies/Contact Agencies

Philadelphia Police Department

Agency Case Number: 2010-16-028710

Agency Contact Personals

Detective Viviana Reyes

Detective Valarie Miller-Robinson

Agency Phone Number

215-686-3093

215-685-3252

209-937-8377

NamUs

Agency Case Number: #MP7034

Agency Contact Personal: Regional Program Specialist Katherine Pope

Agency Phone Number: 817-879-9357

Agency Email Address: [email protected]

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (NCMEC)

Agency Case Number: 1148707

Agency Phone Number: 1-800-843-5678 (1-800-The-Lost)

Sources/Further Information/Places of Interest

https://charleyproject.org/case/beverly-e-sharpman

https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/7034/details

https://www.doenetwork.org/cases/2220dfpa.html

https://www.missingkids.org/poster/NCMC/1148707/1/screen

https://www.websleuths.com/forums/threads/pa-beverly-sharpman-17-philadelphia-11-sept-1947.61173/

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membermentmania · 5 months ago

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August 29th

Fiery green eyes were lit ablaze as he stormed down the hospital hallways, clad in light blue scrubs that he’d long gotten used to. He threw his hair into a low bun as he walked, ready to intercept the incoming patient.

The EMTs burst through the door just as he got there. “Seventeen year old male. Went down playing basketball ‘bout twenty minutes ago,” one of them said with urgency as they wheeled the gurney further inside.

Lola took the other side as they wheeled him through the hallway. “I’ve got no pulse!” Lola called out. Kyle barely registered himself relaying that the boy was cyanotic as adrenaline surged in. “Did someone page Dr. Norris?!”

As they passed a nurse, Kyle grabbed her attention. “I need x-ray, pulse ox, and a central line now! And the biggest needle and syringe you can find me! We’re doing this now!”

Further calls for Dr. Norris could be heard over the PA system but Kyle had practically tuned it out as he stopped, Lola and the EMTS stopping with him. He made quick work of prepping the patient’s chest. “We should wait for Dr. Norris,” Lola urged.

He took the syringe from the nurse he’d previously yelled at, taking a small deep breath before sending it down into the perfect spot. He pulled the plunger up and outwards. A quiet gasp met his ears and all he felt was relief. He met Lola’s eyes with a smile. “Fuck Dr. Norris.”

Lola let out a shocked laugh. “Tell Dr. Norris we’re good here,” Lola relayed to one of the nurses.

Kyle stepped out of the hospital, exhausted but actually feeling accomplished. Today was a prime example of why he wanted to be a doctor. Lola stepped out next to him, quickly catching up. “That was really cool today. What you did,” she admitted, almost sheepishly. “Wanna come to a party tonight?”

“Oh,” he got out, almost shocked. “Not really much of a party person.”

“Come onn,” she drawled. “Show everyone you’re not an over-achieving pain in the ass.” Kyle made a face. “It’s on a boat,” she tried.

“Thanks, but I kinda have plans tonight.” Said plans just so happened to be walking across the street. Stan Marsh in all his glory. “Next time though, yeah?”

“That’s your fiancé?” Lola responded, gawking at him.

He gave her a smile and nod. “Later.”

Stan met him halfway. “Dude, how psyched are people when you’re their doctor?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Kyle responded, swatting at him.

“I’m being serious! If we weren’t engaged, I’d be here for emergency surgery, like, every other day.”

“You’re so annoying,” he huffed, no bite there. “In a few months I’m all yours.”

“Oooor,” Stan singsonged, leaning closer. “We could just elope.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Kyle’s temple. “Maybe?”

A laugh bubbled out of Kyle. “I thought we were done pushing off career stuff to be impulsive,” he murmured.

“I know. But we could also go be gay in like… Paris. Just an option.”

Kyle tilted Stan’s chin, giving him a gentle kiss. “You literally hate French people.”

Stan pulled back slightly with a laugh. “I know.” They separated, starting their walk home.

“Holy shit wait,” Kyle got out, voice bordering on excited.

Stan’s eyes lit up. “Tell me what happened.”

“That girl, Lola, y’know. The one that I thought was going to kill me on my break.”

“Mhm.”

“She just invited me to a party?”

“What the hell?” he responded with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it's on a boat or something.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go, dude.” Kyle shook his head, laughs bubbling out. “You’re gonna be stuck with me for the rest of our lives. Go try and make friends with your coworkers.”

The calm night was violently erupted by flickering flames and dark billowing smoke shrouding over the entire lake. The screams were so loud Kyle could practically feel them ping ponging around his skull as he took cover underneath a table. He didn’t want to look. The people around him were literally tearing each other apart. Limb from limb. He knew the wetness touching his skin was not humidity from being on a lake during a warm summer night. It was blood. He took a deep breath, trying to drown everything out. He refused to die here. He just had to make it across the deck and jump. That was all he had to do.

His eyes widened, tears slipping out when he saw one of the people attacking get shot in the head with a harpoon gun. He shook his head. The second the guy who shot it went down, he sprung out, running faster than he’d ever ran before.

Kyle opened his eyes to see nothing but yellow. The sun pierced through the tiny bits of viber covering his eyes. Fuck. His hands shot up, quickly forcing his way out and into a seated position. A deep cough wracked through him as he leaned forward, expelling the water that was tormenting him. He took slow deep breaths, trying to take everything in.

His arm stung violently. He took another shaky deep breath before looking down. Three deep claw marks stood out against his pale skin. EMTs were all around. He couldn't even get a word out before the one who was checking out a body a few feet away caught sight of him. He was twenty at the very most. His eyes widened as he tumbled backwards from his squatting position. He caught himself, immediately taking off and running, calling out for who Kyle assumed was someone with more experience.

Kyle let out a quiet sigh as he walked into his apartment, fraying plastic bag containing two boxes of hair dye and a jumbo pack of ramen. “Babe!” Tweek greeted with excitement, the second he walked inside. Kyle nearly did a 180 and walked back out. He adored Tweek, but he just knew something was up. But before he could react, Tweek scampered over and grabbed the bag from his hands, walking further inside the apartment. “Soooo. We thought we’d reinstate potluck Tuesday’s. Y’know, cause we all love you so much.”

“We?” Kyle interrupted.

“And we want you to know how much we love you,” he said awkwardly. Kyle followed him into the kitchen, stomach dropping. “Cause we’re a little… concerned?”

His eyes locked with Stan’s and he tried his absolute hardest to push the ‘feeling like a cornered animal’ feelings which he was definitely happening into the back of his mind. “Very concerned, bubbie. About your recent behavior. Y’know, Kyle, this is a hundred percent not like you,” his mother scolded as kindly as she could. He had to actually fight to not roll his eyes. “And that’s me speaking on behalf of your brother and myself.” She circled the island as Ike walked in from god knows where.

“No it’s not,” he chimed in.

She gently put her hands on his shoulders. “You know what I’m about to say comes from a place of love, don’t you?”

“Kinda depends on what you say,” Kyle responded flatly.

“You’re throwing away your life.”

He made a face, nodding slightly. “Wow.”

“You traded a residency at the hospital you worked so hard to get for a job at the morgue. And just saying, you will regret breaking off your engagement with Stan until the end of time. Place of love.”

Stan coughed awkwardly. “I was not told that we would be bringing up the engagement thing today,” he said as he floated towards the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. “Just so you know.”

“Yeah, but it’s evidence,” Tweek chimed in. “Y’know, speaks to state of mind.”

Kyle’s nose scrunched. “Was also not told we were putting you on trial,” Stan chimed in.

Ike leaned on the island, shoving a cracker in his mouth. Kyle exchanged a look with him and he just shook his head slightly. I am never sticking up for you again, Kyle mouthed.

“No one’s one trial!” Tweek interjected. “You’ve just changed so much since the night on the lake. Y’know, in the six years we’ve lived together you’ve been this, like,” he waved his hand around slightly. “You were this unstoppable, hyper-focused force of nature. Now you just kinda…” He made a face. “Dude, all you do is watch TV all day while you hide in a blanket on the couch.”

Kyle’s stomach twisted. It was true. Very much so true. That didn’t mean he wanted to hear it. He tried to swallow all the rage creeping up, even though it felt like a good thing. It’d been so long since he felt actually angry. Or actually anything at all besides tired.

“This is the first time you’re not volunteering for the children’s ward haunted house and you know how important that is to me, bubbie,” his mom said softly.

“Okay,” he breathed out, edge of annoyance in his tone. “This is obviously not potluck Tuesday. It’s an intervention.”

Ike glided in between Sheila and Tweek with a smirk, beer in his hand. “Told you she’d figure it out.”

Tweek smacked the side of his head and Ike quickly stepped out of the way. “Ky…” He frowned. “Just, we think you have PTSD. Y’know, like you go to a boat party and a bunch of crazy drunks start killing each other. And the fire, like. I can’t even imagine what you saw out there. But we think you need professional help…”

Kyle shook his head slightly. “I really don’t.” He swallowed hard, feeling like he was swallowing every single bit of pride and dignity he had left. “But I will try and come down to help at the haunted house,” he said, looking at his mother.” He took a deep breath. “I have to go to work.”

He spun around, quickly retreating out of his apartment and out the door. And work was as it always was. He walked through the precinct, completely tuning out the buzz of cops doing their jobs as he headed downstairs into the morgue. It was completely dead. Craig was nowhere in sight. He frowned slightly before going through his paperwork. And still, Craig was nowhere in sight. He eyed the body drawers before eyeing the entrance. He slowly stood up, grabbing the clipboard as he walked over. “Alright Mr…” His stomach fell lower than it's ever fallen before. Bile crept up his throat. He couldn’t be seeing that right. No. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes. The name written on his clipboard could not be the name that he was seeing. It hadn’t been that long.

A shaky hand reached out towards what was covering him. He felt like he couldn’t do it. His heart was pounding in his chest. It’s fine. You’re just hallucinating. This will be some totally unrelated guy. You’re just having a day.

The second his hand touched the sheet, he screamed. The corpse shot up to a seated position. He screamed, jumping nearly ten feet in the air. “Hiya gorgeous,” Kenny greeted playfully.

“KENNY, WHAT THE FUCK!” he yelled, tears actually slipping out.

“Aw, baby, I knew you’d be excited to see me, but you’re crying?”

Pure frustration flooded through him. “That’s not fucking funny!” he shouted, wiping at his face with his arm.

His face fell slightly, teasing nature faltering immediately. “Oh Ky,” he muttered. “Hey, stop. I’m sorry.”

A mix of a laugh and a sob escaped him. “How’d you even get in here?!”

Kenny thought about telling him the truth, but the thought left just as soon as it invaded his head. “I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while.”

Kyle’s heart panged. Had it really been that long? “You didn’t have to break in here, dick. You could’ve just called.”

Kenny frowned slightly, shrugging. “The last time I called you didn’t pick up.”

Oh. Exhaustion started to kick in as guilt ebbed at him. His day barely started and he was ready to curl up in bed and hide for the rest of the day. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve just been busy.”

“I can tell,” Kenny responded, picking himself back up. “Pretty sweet gig ya got here.”

“You’re fucking-” Kyle couldn’t be more thrilled that Kenny didn’t mention it. He let out a quiet huff before pulling Kenny into a tight hug. “I missed you,” he murmured.

Tentative hands found their way around his back. “I missed you too,” Kenny whispered.

He laughed, pulling away slightly. “You’re fucking freezing, dude. Get out of there before you actually die, please.”

Kenny wrapped his arms around Kyle’s shoulders before he practically hurled himself out of the drawer, landing on two feet. Kyle’s stomach fluttered slightly, eyes slightly downwards. Amber eyes crinkled ever so slightly as Kenny shot him a small smirk. “Ky…” he said lowly. “Are you about to kiss me right now?”

Kyle took a wide step back, huffing. “In your fucking dreams.”

“Mhm. Every single night.”

“Actually shut up,” he breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to will away a blush that had no business creeping up on him. He tried not to think about the mechanics of that. It seemed like nearly all of his normal body functions ceased that night but he was still able to blush somehow. Fucking ridiculous.

“Rough morning?”

Kyle looked up. Kenny looked about as tired as he felt. “I could ask you the same.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “A bit, yeah,” he said quietly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Do you?”

Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly. “So how’d you slip past all the cops?”

“Deflecting much?”

“Coming from you is rich.”

They had a silent standoff before a laugh bubbled out of Kenny. “I really missed you, Ky.”

“I missed you too.” Kyle ignored the way his throat felt tight.

“Y’know, I’m not gonna make you talk about it. Or push you or anything. I’m your friend.” His gaze met the floor as his hands came together, fidgeting slightly. “Can you stop icing me out?”

“Kenny, I’m not,” Kyle shut his mouth, frowning slightly. “It’s not like that.”

Kenny looked up solemnly. “I know it’s not,” he responded, taking another step forward. “I know it’s not on purpose.”

Kyle nodded slightly, looking at the ground. Seeing Kenny upset actually hurt something deep within him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, dude. It’s okay. I just… really miss you and it sucks not seeing you around. Or hearing from you, y’know?”

Kyle looked up, quickly closing the gap between them and pulling him into a tight hug. “I have to do my job right now, but I’ll call you. I promise. Tomorrow if I’m too tired tonight, okay? But I’ll text you.”

“Swear on your promise,” Kenny murmured against him.

A quiet laugh bubbled out of him. “I swear on my promise, Kenny.”

Kenny pulled back, beaming. “Cool.” Kyle blinked hard, barely registering the kiss smacked to his cheek. “Later, cutie!” Kenny practically glided out of the backdoor, leaving Kyle standing there in near shock. Did he just fucking-

“Who was that?”

“JESUS FUCKI-” Kyle cut himself off with a hand pressed against his chest. Is everyone trying to fucking kill me today? He slowly turned around, seeing Craig eyeing him with a small smirk. “How did you even fucking-” he gestured at the corpse on the table in front of him. “I was literally-”

“I didn’t wanna pop your bubble,” he deadpanned.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his frustration to dissipate. “You’re like a fuckin’ shadow,” he muttered as he walked over.

Kyle snapped his gloves on, ready to get this day over with. “Soo,” Craig drawled. “Your friend?”

Kyle narrowed his eyes on Craig slightly. Craig has barely said three sentences to him that weren’t work related since they started working together. It’s been a few months. “Who are we working on?”

“Jane Doe,” he murmured, eyes dropping back down. “They found her in the back of a garbage truck. No ID, no matching prints. Cause of death is complicated… Because of the compactor.” Kyle winced slightly. His phone buzzed five times in rapid succession and Craig quickly ripped off his gloves to check. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “Okay. I gotta go take care of a suicide. Sew her back up, bag her, box her. Y’know the deal.”

“Right.”

Kyle’s eyes followed Craig right out the door before he stood up slowly. “What the hell am I doing with my life?," he muttered.

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voxmilia · 1 year ago

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8.) BylethBalthus (fire emblem three houses) EXPLAIN

ask me about my wips

OKAY SO

YOU HAVEN'T MET BALTHUS YET BC HE'S IN THE DLC WHICH I DO HIGHLY RECOMMEND FOR A FUN SELF CONTAINED STORY AND ACCESS TO 4 NEW CHARACTERS AND SOME DELIGHTFUL NEW CLASSES

THIS IS HE

He's an ex-nobleman from the Leicester Alliance who gave up his position as heir. He's the self-proclaimed King Of Grappling. He's the very definition of a himbo. He's the oldest student unit you can recruit at about 26 at the start of the game. He's childhood besties with Hilda's big brother Holst. He has impossible abs, a massive gambling problem and Tons of Debt

He's also one of the only people, especially early on, who challenges Byleth's view point. So many characters put Byleth up on a pedestal or use their power to further their own agenda, even as they come to care for Byleth as a person. Balthus, by contrast, immediately challenges them to think for themselves in their very first support conversation. Recognizing that Byleth is very likely going to end up a merc leader like Jeralt but is that what Byleth wants?

I love that, I think it's both refreshing and necessary to have Byleth be urged to choose their own path. So I have a little post S support/proposal fic for them, because Byleth deserves to have someone at their side who encourages them to think for themselves and they deserve to do One thing for themselves, like spontaneously elope despite their lofty position after the war (not spoiling bc you haven't finished)

So have a little moment of vulnerable Byleth and her favorite himbo!!

"You okay, pa- uh, my…beloved?" The smile returns, small but no less fond. "I don't mind if you keep calling me pal," she admits, nudging her forehead against his hand playfully, like the kittens she used to feed around the monastery. "It suits you. Beloved, my love…they feel forced." "Yeesh, remind a guy he's low-class, why dontcha?" he laughs, even as Byleth quirks a brow in confusion. "You know I'm a mercenary right? I'm not exactly comfortable with noble endearments myself." "That's not what Claude tells me." He lifts Byleth as if she weighs no more than a sack of flour and sets her on the window sill of the Goddess Tower. It brings them closer together in height and Byleth can't hide the way her eyes go dull at the reminder. "... I was hoping not to tell you yet," she admits softly. "I know I'm not the King of Matrimony yet but isn't keeping secrets from each other a big no-no?" He doesn't sound upset, at least, though his eyes probe hers for answers. "Talk to me, sweetheart. What's goin' on?" She blinks, surprise and fondness rushing through her, washing the anxieties aside like the tide. "Sweetheart," she repeats, tasting the word like a new food. "That one suits you better." He kisses her then, holding her face between his hands as if she were a precious treasure. She's not…used to such delicate, tender affection but she lets herself sink into the unknown, rather than balking at it. "You're so fucking adorable but you're not gonna weasel outta this, sweetheart," he teases, peppering kisses around her face to elicit a quiet giggle from her.

#god baltie and bylie underrated #i really wanna get this fic done bc there isn't enough content for them #and most of it is pwp which is lovely and I've read plenty of it #but i want the emotional shit too #anyway thank you kai!!! ily!!!!#mine: writing #asks #shackld #bythus #also one of my favorite fem byleth s supports in the entire game so far

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asteroshearts · 1 year ago

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From here on out, devoted

You commit a faux pas at your wedding, but look at how handsome he appears today — how can you not?

Nanami x Reader

Tags: pre-canon, she/her pronouns, marriage, breaking tradition (NOT appropriate behavior tho i don't condone it in irl situations💀), religious sacrilege??, familial pressure, fluff

You and Nanami had a traditional wedding.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a choice you made all on your own.

It wasn't as if you necessarily wanted a hybrid or Western-style wedding, but you never had the chance to decide in the first place. It would've been so simple if you were just two people in love, but you two weren't just ordinary joined souls, but jujutsu sorcerers.

And as a lead member of a prolific jujutsu clan, it wasn't just your wedding, but theirs — everyone's. Tonight wasn't just for you and Kento to become one, nor was it only for your close families to unite, but for the entirety of jujutsu society to observe. They could threaten your position as a sorcerer as they pleased, but it was a new matter when Kento was at risk as well.

Every jujutsu higher-up had to be there to officiate, pray, and bless you two as a couple, and every prominent clan had to be there. (Unfortunately for Nanami, that also meant the Gojo clan.)

You tried to think of the positives initially: you had access to one of the most beautiful shrines you had ever seen in your life, one that was hidden away only for those in jujutsu society for hundreds of years. All expenses would be taken care of.

Also, at the end of the day, you were going to get married to the love of your life: Nanami Kento.

That was already the highest blessing that you could ask for.

You were already considered lucky by the women in every single clan— your marriage could have been arranged. Gojo himself was a product of an arranged marriage, as well as almost every member of the Zen'in clan. Yet here you were crying when you were marrying for love.

However, you were constricted by your own lack of agency. You couldn't choose your wedding dress — you weren't allowed to wear one. Your wedding date was chosen by one of the higher-ups. You wouldn't be able to kiss, or hug, or be affectionate for the entirety of the rites. People like Zen'in Naoya had to be invited while the individuals that you wanted to see like Shoko couldn't come until after the main ceremony.

On late nights when the curtains were wide, allowing the city's nightlife to illuminate your room, you and Kento used to whisper, believing that one day when the cherry blossoms fell, he'd be the one to weave a single braid in your hairstyle on your wedding day, or have a hand in tying one of the knots.

It would've meant the world: a representation of how he helped you get ready then, and how he'd pamper you now — until the rest of your lives. Now it was being taken from you.

All the things of beauty that you admired: the lavish bridal nihongami, the intricate shiromuku, suddenly weighed heavy on your heart.

Kento was always on your side. Privately, he brought up to you that you two could elope. The higher-ups couldn't take over your wedding if there was no wedding to control.

It sounded so tempting. However, this wasn't just your wedding, but Kento's. He would never say it out of worry of pressuring you. For as straight-laced of a man that he appeared to outsiders, you knew how sentimental he was, and how much he valued a ceremony that would bind you two from now on to eternity.

In all the aspects of your wedding that you could control, Nanami thrived. Although your future husband didn't show it with smiles or exuberant words, you could tell just how excited he was to plan things like the reception's menu, taking care to include things like seabream and red rice to wish for your prosperity as a couple. He called up restaurants and caterers from far and wide, bringing you to samplings nearly every week, trying to fuse some common dishes with some of his favorite French, Portuguese, and many other restaurants.

He personally designed the invitations, ordered all of the wedding favors with you.

You couldn't steal it from him. Even if you two eloped now and tried to postpone the ceremony, the elders would always be there.

Didn't you already have the most important thing?

Oh, and you adored the man you would be marrying, you thought. The stylist carefully laid down several sets of kanzashi beside you. You were set to get ready for the next nine hours.

Fine. You looked at your reflection in the mirror. The elders can have this one day.

As long as you have your man for the rest of your life.

It smelled like pollen on your wedding day. Inhaling deeply, the shrine's courtyard was covered in sakura pedals, shining dappled light upon you and Kento.

Hair raised on the back of your neck when the shrine masters began to play their shinobue and fue, signaling your and Nanami's descent from the courtyard into the main pavilion.

The high sound reverberated deep into your eardrums, making the clicks of your sandals fall deaf to your ears. This loss — lack displaced you from the present, as if you were never really there. As if you were a ghost under this cold spring when one of your older relatives held the ornate oil-paper umbrella plastered with several jujutsu talismans over your and your groom's heads, shielding you from whatever remnants of the sun were left.

You couldn't see him, not even from the corner of your eye when you were hidden by the bridal headdress. However, Nanami Kento was a yours. The nerves in your heart stirred alarms in his head, calling out to him.

Your right hand cradled the folds of your kimono, lifting it up and holding it to your body while your groom held his hands at his side, with a folding fan in one palm.

You felt the ends of your large sleeve being tugged, pulling you closer. Your breath hitched when you felt that moment again. Eyes darting to the crowd around your escort, the Zen'ins, the Inumakis, all those that your elders deemed as important enough to attend were surrounding you on both sides.

But with how your groom called out to you silently, it gave your heart wings, did it not?

Your proper groom, you thought, who followed protocol and listened to what was right more than any other sorcerer you knew, toeing the line — just to hold your hand.

Quickly and daringly, you quickly switched your right hand with your left, even as you had to awkwardly stretch it over your torso to tuck your hand under the hulking fold. You dropped your hand to your side for your knuckles to brush across layers of silk until you were finally skin-to-skin with Kento's own large hand.

Hidden by a sea of heavy fabric, bones cautiously knocked into each other, skin meeting gently across pads of fingers, and inching closer for your hands to knit —

Smack!

Teeth gritting, you and Kento quickly dropped your hands and separated.

"Have some shame," your relative muttered from behind your ear.

Rolling your eyes, you were finally glad that your glare was hidden under your wataboshi.

In all honesty, you couldn't focus much after that.

The remaining rites were a blur in your mind. When the students asked you years down the line what your wedding was like, you honestly told them you couldn't remember much of it. (The honeymoon was much more memorable, you would tease.)

You returned to earth as Utahime stood in front of you and your groom seated before her. Giving you a stern nod, she handed your groom his first cup with two hands. When he took it with a nod, she held the golden pot in her hand and poured Kento the first cup of sake.

Turning your head toward him, it was as if the veil lifted. The ends of your headdress finally revealed the marvel in front of you.

Suddenly, all you could hear as he brought the cup to his lips were the instruments in the background played by the live musicians.

A silent gasp escaped your lips. It struck you — you haven't really looked at him all day. Until now.

He was too good to be true.

Nanami forwent his glasses, and you can see the ends of his lashes brush the top of his cheeks as his eyelids fell. His hair was done meticulously, and the warm lights of the shrine lit up the strands on his head to be as golden as the pieces on your hair ornaments.

Even as you brought up your own cup to take three sips of sake, the vision in your mind stayed the same —

Of how he took your breath away by the sight of him in his montsuki haori hakama. Your heart bloomed: you stared at the crisp lines of fabric that surrounded his collar, neatly falling against his peachy skin. His Adam's apple gently rose and fell when he sipped his second cup of sake.

Staring down at your two cups placed side-by-side after you had your second drink, you wondered if there had ever been another man like him before. And whether there will ever be a Nanami Kento ever again.

Heart clenching, the music beside you started its slow crawl, carrying low notes that vibrated in your chest.

You wished it so.

For when you lived, died, and are reborn — you shrewdly didn't even want your soul to consider anyone else.

The string accompaniment slowly built up the notes, echoing singular plucked koto strings.

Utahime poured Nanami his third and last cup of sake.

Eyes carrying the reflection of your future husband, tears suddenly fell down in rivulets. Oxygen didn't pass your lungs.

Nanami paused, eyes widened as he carried his last sip, shocked at your sudden onslaught of tears. He turned to you fully with worry.

Oh, you looked him in the eye, you were getting married.

Unable to stop yourself, the song hit its sforzando. You threw yourself at your husband, arms wrapping around his neck, and desperately pressing your lips to his.

Needles and pricks danced around your legs after the kneeing position you were forced in the entire ceremony, causing you to nearly topple over the blond man. Loud gasps rang from the crowd as soon as you committed the scandalous act, but all you could hear was the beat of your hearts following the tune of the music.

And the rule-following man before you allowed it, for whatever you do: right and wrong, he put you first.

Catching you from falling, Nanami corded a singular strong arm around your waist, pressing you firmly against his body, hoisting you up until your knees weren't on the ground. Feet — swept.

Deepening the kiss with the god of a man before you, you were positive — as the warm sake flowed from his mouth to yours, you had taken your final sips.

You were officially husband and wife. By all means and forms of tradition, the gods had decreed it.

"What is the matter with you two?!" Gakuganji roared. Several pairs of hands attempted to rip you and Nanami apart while Gojo laughed merrily in the background.

Staring at you and Nanami making out right in front of her, Utahima twisted her face with annoyance.

"Nothing stays the same. However, for this life and the next, I beg any god that's listening to me...please let me spend every lifetime making our bed together and sharing bread from the bakery," you vowed in front of your guests.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami fluff #nanami

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