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dreamiesminx · 3 years ago

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Hentai or Die !!!

Paring: Nerd!Jeno x dumb!Reader

Word count: 2.6k words lord

Summary:

You not only so stupid that you fail your classes, you also so stupid that you have to be tutor by the quiet nerd in your english class

warning:

Mean Jeno, Bimbo Reader, Unprotected sex, Creampies because creampies are forever <3, Jeno is a nerd who tabs his favorite parts in hentai mangas, Jeno gets alittle jelly at the end, Jeno takes photos of reader after sex, and its just filthy lol , Jeno wears glasses in this as well

This is complete inspired by this amazing hentai manga photo.... I just felt like this fit jeno perfectly [ thanks to ecchi_aesth ] Here is the twitter link to the photos

PSA, look at the photo before reading cause it was kinda hard to describe the position lol

If you are not into this type of stuff please don’t read and just ignore it please

Author note:

Babes,I didnt proof read because i am posting this at like 6 am and i havent slept all night so yeah, Enjoy

masterlist

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“ You’re here early…” Jeno said as he opened the door. Luckily he cleaned early today or else you would’ve seen the mess he and his friends left the night before, celebrating renjun’s birthday. He had only been tutoring you for a few weeks on fridays and it was mostly at your dorm room, but Jeno was tired of all of the decorations in your room. He hated when people picked a color that they liked and filled their rooms with it. It was very tacky in his opinion. So he decided to have the session here instead.

“ Yeah, i’d rather be home,” You pushed past him and threw your purse onto his bed that was in the studio apartment, it was pretty small but had the pretty big bookshelf with many mangas and books filling it, “ but i have a nail appointment earlier than usual and i need my sleep.” What's with all these books! What a nerd!

you pulled your shoes off and placed them next to his by the tv stand, your skirt lifted as you did, giving Jeno a peek of what’s underneath. Jeno felt his cock stir at the sight of it, you were always such a tease to everyone, always flaunting your tits and ass at everyone at every change you got but that wasn’t even the hottest part.

The hottest part was that you had no clue of what you were doing. Jeno wasn’t even sure if there were any thoughts in your pretty little head, which is the reason why he was stuck tutoring you.

“Well, make yourself at home,” Jeno walked into his kitchen to grab himself a bottle of water, shifting his pants to try and make his print less noticeable. you were only here for 60 seconds and you’ve already started to affect him.

You huffed as you sat down on his floor, putting your legs under his table. He had one of those expensive tables that had the cover and that heated up your legs, “I left my book so..”

“We can use mine,” Jeno’s deep voice sent chills down your spine as Jeno sat next to you, placing his legs underneath. He flipped to the page that had a blue tab sticking out of the side, “ this is where we felt off.”

“I need a break or my brain will explode.” You got up from the floor and walked over to Jeno’s kitchen, pulling open his refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water. You opened the water and took a sip, sighing as it instantly refreshed you.

“It’s only been 20 minutes,” Jeno leaned back, stretching his arms out, “You’re just lazy as fuck.” For a quiet guy, Jeno was pretty mean when he decided to talk. His friends saw it as an attitude problem but Jeno didn’t see an issue with it so he didn’t change it.

“Not true.”

You made your way over to Jeno’s bookcase and looked at what he had on there when your eyes fell on a very famous Hentai series. you choked on your water, sitting it down on the bookcase.

“Oh my god!” Jeno immediately looked up, his face heating up as he saw what manga you held in your hands, “Jeno, I didn’t know you read things like this…”

“ I-it’s not mine.” Jeno pushed his glasses up and looked away from you in embarrassment. A hot chick just found his hentai collection, that’s more embarrassing than the Hentai or Die sweatshirt Haechan had got him for christmas.

“ You’re so nasty Jeno..” You laughed as you examined the book, it had pink tabs coming out of it, it confused you. until you flipped to it and saw the girl in the manga on the bed with cum oozing out of her cunt, “Oh my god, What if your mommy came to visit and saw her son with all of these dirty dirty mangas…?”

You barely had time to laugh at your amazing joke because Jeno was pressing you against the bookcase, the book had fallen out of your hand, making a noise which you ignored because of how close Jeno’s face was to yours.

“Shut up,” Jeno gritted his teeth as the look on his face hardened, “ It isn’t mine.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach as your pussy throbbed at how upset he was getting,” I think it is yours,” You leaned your face up to his, “ and I think you like to see girls stuffed with cum.”

“No i don’t,” He spat as his nose pressed against yours, His glasses fogging up as he did “ You’re the dirty one here.” Jeno pressed his body close to your, his cock print rubbing against your navel. You felt your panties get soiled with your wetness as you felt just how big he was through his pants. He could ruin me!

“you came here dressed like a slut,dressed like you’re ready to be filled with cum,” Jeno reached his hand down to grab your thigh, “Did you wear this for me?” Jeno whispered against your lips, rubbing your thigh dangerously close to your cunt.

“n-no,” Your voice came out as a whine, you shook your head, pushing forward to kiss Jeno, but he pulled away.

“No?,” Jeno lifted your skirt, chuckling as he read the words on your thong out loud, “ Eat me… Are you sure you didn’t wear this for me?”

“ I-it was the only clean ones”

Jeno shook his head at you, sucking his teeth, turning to walk away but you pulled him back. you pressed your lips to his, pulling him closer by his shirt.

Jeno was stunned for a moment, allowing you to kiss him but not reacting. After a few seconds, Jeno deepened the kiss, turning his head as he did. He reached his hand to the back of your skit, grabbing a handful of your ass,lifting you up and down once as he pressed himself harder against you. your pussy gushed for the third time tonight at his harsh grip on you.

You pulled away from jeno to breath,taking in deep a breath. Jeno opened his mouth to speak but you took that time to lick into his mouth, Jeno groaning at the contact of your tongues. you wrapped your arms around jeno’s shoulders and your legs around his waist as he lifted you, keeping you pressed against his book case.

The kiss was getting messier and messier as the second past. spit leaving the side your mouths as your tongues rubbed and wrapped around each other’s. Neither of you wanted to pull away anytime soon.

Jeno reached his hand into your thong, his cock nearly bursting at the feeling of the wetness, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how he’s gonna ruin your pussy right here in front of his hentai collection and how you're gonna take everything he gave you.

“so wet..” Jeno rubbed his fingers against your clit, your hole clenged against nothing as he did. You nodded as you bit back your moans, pressing your pussy into his hand, looking for more friction, “must of liked the manga too?” You shook your head in response but Jeno ignored you, knowing that you were lying.

Jeno pulled his cock out of his sweatpants, his cock leaving a trail of precum on them as he did. He pulled your thong to the side,rubbing his tip against your clit to tease you but it ended up backfiring, nearly making him lose his footing.

“please, Jeno.” You rubbed your drooling cunt against his cock, letting out a moan, your pussy squeezed against nothing. Jeno decided to put the both of you out of your misery, sinking into your wet little cunt.

Jeno felt his toes begin to slightly curl as your cunt stretched around him, squeezing him as he slipped in. It was so warm, so wet and so tight. he knew that this couldn’t be the last time he fucked your cunt.

“s-so big.” The stretch was almost too much for you, it burned so good. You gripped his shirt, biting his neck, you were definitely gonna leave a mark but you didn’t care at that point.

“ but you can take it right?” Jeno slowly moved his hips, letting you adjust to his size. or that’s what he told himself. It would be embarrassing if he busted quickly.

“Mhm.”

“mhm?” Jeno slipped himself out almost all the way and thrusted himself right back in, the curve of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you, leaving you gasping. “gonna take whatever i give you like the mini skirt wearing slut you are..” Jeno could feel your cunt squeeze around him at his dirty words, you wanted this just as much as he did.

You couldn’t even find the words to respond because You were so drunk on Jeno’s cock and how he made you feel so full. you felt him everywhere and your body still craved for more of him and Jeno could tell just by looking at your face.

Jeno gripped your waist tight as he began to set the pace, fighting against the part of himself that wanted to wreck you as hard as humanly possible. You gripped his shirt tighter and pulled him into a sweet little kiss,your legs shaking, your cunt getting wetter and wetter around his cock. “f-faster.”

Jeno’s hands were pressed against the wall as his arms held your legs that were hooked on his arms. You gripped onto his shirt tighter as the new position pushed him deeper inside of you.

“ that’s it..” Jeno praised you as he slammed his cock in and out of you, and you took every inch of it gracefully, “gonna fill you up.”

“yes.” You nodded as tears slipped from your eyes, You felt him deeper than you’d ever felt someone before the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls was already a lot but that pair with the feeling of your clit rubbing against his navel every time he thrusted into you was making you feel complete abliss.

“gonna fill you up like those dirty girls in my mangas,” Jeno was losing himself in the feeling of your wet little cunt sucking him back in everytime he fucked into you. He would live in your pussy if you’d let him “you want that?”

“wanna be like those dirty girls for you,” You were completely drunk on Jeno’s cock right now so you would agree to anything right now and Jeno could tell just by the look in your eyes and he could also tell that you were getting close “i know you do..” Jeno pressed a kiss to your pouty lips.

You felt your stomach tighten as you were so close to your edge, Your cunt squeezing tighter around Jeno, ready to cum “Wanna cum..” you moved your hips with Jeno’s, working with him to chase your high.

“Go ahead baby.”

That must have been all you needed to hear because your body released as soon as the words fell from his mouth, your legs shook as your orgsam washed over you. drool slipping out of your mouth. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you felt it in your ears.

“fuck” Jeno grunted as he fucked you though your climax. You were so fucking hot loosing yourself over his cock. as you came your cunt clenched and unclenched around Jeno pushing him completely over the edge.

“take all of it.” Jeno's voice came out breathy and raspy as he felt his balls flexing as he emptied all of his cum inside of you. If he would have told his younger self that he’d have a girl like you milking his cock like this, he wouldn’t believe it one bit, “i filled you up good,didn’t i?”

You nodded,pulling yourself closer to him, “so full…” You didn’t want him to pull out yet, you were falling in love with the feeling of being so full. no guy has ever made you feel so full like this manga nerd did, “wanna keep it inside,” You babbled, mind still hazy from your orgasm.

Jeno had to admit, seeing you fucked out like this, is the cutest thing he’s seen in awhile.He tightened his grip on your thighs, making sure not to pull out of you even alittle bit, keeping all of his cum inside.He carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before pulling away to look at you. He brushed your hair away from your face, the look in your eyes told him that you were almost down from your high.

“Can I take a picture..?” Jeno noticed your face scrunched immediately, “for my eye only, of course.” Jeno felt a wash of embarrassment immediately after his words, ready for you to want to leave after that.

“yes,” You pulled him down for a quick kiss, pushing his glasses up after you pulled away “make it pretty though, I want your friends to see how pretty I look.”

“maybe different photos..”Jeno reached into his bedside table and pulled out a white polaroid camera, reaching down to pull out of you. you grabbed his hand immediately, shaking your head,making him laugh at you.

“I want to see the mess we made,baby.” Jeno thought it was cute that you were getting clingy, you didn’t seem like the type at all. You were laying here pouting because you didn’t want him to pull out. He couldn’t wait to rub this in haechan’s face.

You pulled your hand away, allowing him to pull out of you. Jeno felt himself getting harder just at the site of his cum spilling out of you. He quickly took the photo, angling it close to your body. Jeno definitely didn’t want his friends to see these photos, this was a cunt for his eyes and only his. He felt his body full with anger just thinking about it. He definitely needed to take you out on a date after this.

Jeno reached his hand down and rubbed his cum into your cunt, then snapped another photo of it. for his last photo, he decided he’d take a photo of you laying there like a cutie with a smile on your face, you looked so cute even though he just fucked you into next week.

“Hey!!” You grabbed at his hands, “I wasn’t ready yet.” your nose scrunched up at him because of the flash and the fact that you hated being photographed when you weren't ready.

“It’s better that way,” Jeno put the three polaroids into his drawer. You grabbed his polaroid out of his hand before he could put it away.

You quickly snapped a photo of jeno, smiling at his puzzle face and the little sound that he makes that comes along with that face, “there, we’re even.” You pulled him down to kiss you, Jeno smiling in the kiss.

as you both kissed, jeno thought about something that he didn’t think of before, “Wait how did you know it was a hentai book?” Jeno asked as he pulled away from your lips.

“I-i don’t know,” Your face felt hot as you realized your mistake, “i guessed?”

Jeno didn’t believe it for a second but it was cute that you tried….

—

Okay, Hiiii I finally finished this fic. Um i’m glad to finally be able to publish this. as soon as i saw the jeno photo i knew i need to put this into a fic but i didn’t know how… then the universe sent me the manga photo and i felt in my coochie that this had to be Jeno and his hentai shirt …

Please leave feedback… hope you enjoyed

xoxo Jeno’s minx lol

#Jeno smut #jeno hard hours #nct dream smut #nct dream scenarios #Nct dream x reader #Jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno scenarios #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #Dom!jeno #mean nerd jeno

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supercorpkid · 4 years ago

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Flashback Friday.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2430.

“You know, this whole baby talking-” Maya says, pointing at the doll in front of you. Lucky for you, it’s already Friday and after the weekend you can give the doll back to the teacher. You raise your eyebrow at Maya for her to continue. “I’m really curious about what you were like as a kid.”

“A pain in the ass.” You answer, making her smile.

“I doubt that. You were probably the perfect little witty kid that everyone was so in love with, first sight. I mean, just look at these big blue eyes of yours.” You blush when she points at your face. “I don’t think anyone could not like such an adorable baby.”

“Ok, well, you’re assuming I was adorable.” It’s what you say, but you get up from the couch and make your way to the projector. You change your mind right after. Outside this house Kara plays the part of Kara Danvers the reporter, but here she can be herself. So there’s superhero stuff in some videos, and you can’t show Maya any of that. “I have some pictures if you want to see.”

“Oh, please.” She asks and you nod, taking a few photo albums from the bookshelf, then sitting back on the couch with her. “I know you were adorable just by looking at you now.”

“Come snuggle.” You hold her tight in your embrace, kissing her cheek. “We have to finish this before momma gets home, or she’ll join us.”

“What’s wrong with her joining us?”

“She’ll cry non-stop.” You laugh and Maya smiles at you. She opens the first page and already laughs at the picture.

“See? I knew it. Perfect little witty kid.” She points at a picture of you dressed as Batgirl for Halloween. “I thought your momma said you guys are Supergirl stans in this house.”

“Yeah. Before this one I was dressed as Wonder Woman. And the one after I think I was dressed as Dreamer.” Maya gives you a questioning look and you smile. “I don’t know, I never once dressed as Supergirl.” You shrug. “I even dressed as Miss Martian once. Wait.” You shuffle the album and show her the picture.

“Wow. You painted yourself green, but didn’t wear a Supergirl costume? And you wouldn’t even have to do much. I mean you have blonde hair, blue eyes, cute smile-” She looks at you for a second, and you smile feeling very nervous about it. She is REALLY staring at you, and you feel lucky she can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest right now. She furrows her eyebrows for a second, and your heart stops. “And yet you painted yourself green.”

“Right.” You give her a forced laugh. “Didn’t want anyone to confuse a 5-year-old-girl with the actual superhero so… Probably for the best.”

“Aw! Look at little Jamie!” She points at some other picture and you let out a breath. That was close. Too close.

Weirdly, looking at old pictures with Maya filled you with nostalgia. So as soon as she leaves the house, you make your way to the projector and sit back on the couch, watching video after video of your childhood.

You were an adorable kid. You have to admit that.

The first video starts with Lena still pregnant. Kara’s face comes first and she gives a huge smile to the camera.

“Are you filming me?” Lena asks, trying to get up from the couch, unsuccessfully. “That’s not funny, Kara. Come here and help me, I weigh a thousand pounds with a half-alien-baby making me eat for 20 people.”

“But love, you’re doing so well.” Kara smiles again. Putting the camera against something and walking towards Lena.

“You’re the worst.” Lena says, giving Kara her hand, but instead Kara picks her up bridal style. “My back hurts, my feet hurt, my hands are swollen. I can’t wait for this baby to come out of me.”

“Me too.” Kara agrees, looking at Lena’s belly without her glasses. “But, you know, she seems to like it there. She’s even smiling.”

“It’s not fair you can see and hear her and I can’t.” Lena grunts, but Kara kisses her, making her blush instead.

“Well, it’s not fair you’re holding her all the time and I’m not, so I guess we’re even.”

“Kara, stop filming and come hold her.” Lena says, you’re sleeping on her arms. She has a tired look, but still a smile on her face.

“No, I don’t want to wake her. Look how peaceful she looks.” Kara says, and you see her hand touching yours. “Look at her Lena. We made the world’s most beautiful potato with eyes.”

“Kara! Just say she is a cute baby.”

“She’s the cutest potato that ever was.” Kara chuckles, and Lena once again tries to give you to her. “No, Lena. She is so small, what if-what if I hurt her?”

“You won’t hurt her, honey. Here, put the camera here.” Kara puts the camera on the couch next to Lena, and a few seconds later Lena picks it up to film you in Kara’s arms. “See, it’s all fine.”

“I will always keep you safe, little one.” It’s what Kara whispers to you, and you reach for her finger, making her smile in excitement. “I think she knows who I am.”

“I’m sure she does.”

The next video is Lena who is filming, you know that because her voice is really close to the microphone.

“Honey, it’s the middle of the night.” She films Kara. “The baby is not even crying, why are you creeping over her crib?”

“Just wanted to make sure she was breathing.” Kara says and Lena films you. You look fine.

“Well? Is she?”

“Yes.” Kara agrees and Lena turns the camera to Kara’s face again.

“Then can we go to bed now?”

“I think I’m gonna hang back here for a while. I’ll join you in a little.”

“Did you get the camera?” Lena asks, not looking behind, to see Kara already filming. “Look at her going. She’s walking alone!” Lena opens her arms to you. “Come on babygirl, come to mom!”

“Mom!” You repeat, making your way to her, but you fall before you get there. You look at her doe-eyed, and she smiles softly at you.

“You can do it. Come on, I believe in you baby. Come on.” Lena calls you with her hands. Kara places the camera somewhere, and goes to you. “Kara, she can do it alone.”

“She’s one, love. She can do a lot, but not everything.” Kara puts you up on your feet again, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Go on, little one. Go to mom.”

You look at Lena, and then at Kara. Not moving. Kara smiles and whispers something in your ear. Next thing you know, you turn to Lena and make your way to her. They celebrate like you just ran a marathon, and you get so excited yourself, you don’t even mind when you fall butt first on the floor again.

“Little one, how old are you right now?” Kara asks, and you show her a number two with your fingers. “Very good! And how old is mom right now?” You show her four fingers, and you hear Lena’s chuckle somewhere behind the video. “And how old is mommy?” You show her five fingers, making Lena laugh harder. And even though you can’t see Kara’s face, you absolutely know she was pouting.

“No. No.” You say, after one look at her. “Mommy is this much.” And you show her two fingers.

“Ah, that’s more like it.”

“Shhh. Are you filming this?” You hear Lena’s whisper behind the video. You’re alone in the video, opening the refrigerator door, climbing all of the shelves, to get to the top so you can get the cookie jar that has been perfectly placed there, just so you can’t get it.

Your little hands are trying very hard to get the cookie jar, and you hear Kara’s and Lena’s muffled laughter behind the camera.

“Oh my God, she’s gonna do it.” Lena mutters and you hear Kara humming.

“She’s a superhero, love.” Kara says, giving the camera to Lena, going very quietly behind you, and taking the cookie jar before you. “Oh well, if it isn’t our very own super stealer!”

“Mommy!” You yell in shock, letting go of the shelf and falling back on the floor. Kara drops the jar, to try to catch you, but you still fall butt first on the floor. Lena rushes to your side, not exactly filming, but not really letting go of the phone also.

“You’re ok.” Lena says, picking you up from the floor, and leaving the phone there instead. The only thing it’s filming now is the ceiling, but you still can hear voices. “Are you hurt? Does anything hurt, babygirl?”

“No.” You say softly, like you were thinking about crying, but it wasn’t worth it enough.

“You’re such a strong girl.” You hear Lena reassuring you. “And you know what strong girls get? Cookies!”

“I don’t want cookies anymore, mom.” You hear your tiny voice coming from the phone. “Can we go watch cartoons?”

“Yes, baby. Let’s watch cartoons.”

The video stays silent for at least a minute, and you’re almost skipping it, until you hear a muffled cry and Lena’s voice right after.

“Kara, honey, come on. She’s not hurt, it’s all fine.”

“I was supposed to catch her.” It’s Kara who is crying, you can tell by the way she sounds. You furrow your brows to this video and you don’t think you’ve ever seen this part before. “It’s my fault she fell.”

“Honey, she was climbing the fridge and we were filming in the back. I mean, I don’t know how we didn’t realize sooner that was not going to end well. It’s not your fault. Come on. She wants to cuddle with us and watch cartoons.”

“She wants me too?” Kara asks, voice small filled with scare.

“She specifically requested that mommy was there so she could sit on your lap.” Lena says, picking up the phone. You get a glimpse of Kara’s red face before Lena turns the video off.

You watch video after video, with a smile on your face. There’s one video for every age you were in, and around five you got to be exactly like Maya thought you would. The perfect little witty kid, with big blue eyes, and great comebacks.

“Ok, go on, little one. Show me what you made.” Kara asks, pointing the camera to you, and you show her your little robot with a smile. “It’s a robot! What does it do?”

“It dances!” You say excitedly, pressing something in it to make it dance. “Look, momma. It dances like you.”

“How dare you!” Kara places the camera on top of something, turns on the music somewhere, and picks you up from the chair, dancing with you in her arms.

You have the biggest smile on your face, while she spins around on the kitchen floor, doing the dopiest dance moves so you can laugh harder.

“I wanna fly!” You ask, and Kara is quick to comply, holding you up with one hand, and you make her flying pose -one hand on your waist and the other raised in a fist- while she runs around the kitchen with you like this. Lena walks in the kitchen a while later, and laughs at both of you.

“Hey! No flying around the house.” She jokes, and Kara puts you down. Lena picks you up right after, kissing your flushed cheek, and smiling at you. “What are you two doing?”

The answer is Kara coming to hug her from behind, and starting to dance again, making Lena dance too. The video goes on, with the three of you dancing with smiles around the kitchen, and you can’t help a smile that it brings to your face.

“Hey!” Kara walks in the living room and sees you curled up on the couch, watching old videos. She smiles. “Watcha’ doing?”

“I miss that.” You press pause, and look at the scene. The three of you have the most truthful smiles on your faces, and you all look so in love with life and with this family. Kara smiles at the scene, a longing smile, because she misses it too. “We just looked so happy together.”

“We still are, aren’t we?” Kara makes her way towards the couch, throwing herself back in it, and holding you tight. You let your head fall on her arm, and you breathe deep.

“I feel like we all grew up from that.” You mutter, but it doesn’t matter because Kara can hear you just fine. She furrows her brows at you, then stops hugging you and stands up. “Momma, don’t be mad, I just-”

But she’s not mad. She is putting some music on, moving the couches to the sides of the living room -with you in it, like it’s nothing- and making space in the middle of the room. Kara stares at you, before starting to dance like crazy in front of you.

“You might have grown up, but mommy is still this much.” She shows you two fingers and your smile comes, without you even thinking about it.

“Well, I haven’t!” You stand up too, dancing next to her. And before you know, she has picked you up and is spinning you around like you’re still that same 6-year-old-girl with not a care in the world. And right now, you feel like you are.

“Hey, what is-” Lena looks at the scene. Her living room looks like a mess with couches on the sides, pillows on the floor, forgotten videos of your childhood in the background, very loud music playing, Kara spinning you around by the hands and sweet smiles on both of your faces. “Going on?”

It’s the moment of truth. That’s the moment you’ll see if you all grew up from that, or if you all can still look that happy together.

Lena unties her hair, tosses her shoes to the other side of the living room, and gives you both a very satisfied smile, before joining the dance party.

“Welcome home, love.” Kara says, giving Lena a sweet kiss on the lips, then another one on her forehead. She pulls you close and kisses your forehead too, and you smile, wrapping your arms around them both.

“Yes.” Lena agrees, kissing your cheek. “This is home.”

Notes:

Someone was feeling a little nostalgic, and by someone I mean @supercorpenthusiastic and I’m so thankful cause it got me to think about Superkid as a baby, which is lovely. So thank you!

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

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ddosie · 3 years ago

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# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

#sorry for the angst anon 😬#this was maybe quite possibly perhaps influenced by real events #txt #txt x reader #txt angst #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt soobin #soobin #soobin drabbles #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin au #soobin angst #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin choi

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spices-and-cherries · 4 years ago

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Rampage (Chapter 1)

JAMES BOND X READER

This is the first chapter of my first series! I’m really super excited! This was a request made by the lovely @iamcavainna, but I did make some minor changes (like making it into a series lol)... Also, except for a few paragraphs in this chapter, the whole series will be from Bond’s point of view.

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Summary: May i request a James Bond x reader where the reader is James’s wife/fiancé and M’s niece. She gets kidnapped by a group who want to get back at them for whatever reason and James, as expected, freaks out and is about to go on a rampage looking for her but when M gets wind of it, everyone expects her to stop him but she doesn’t. James is prepared to burn the world to get the reader back

Warnings: abduction, angst, wall punching, destruction of property, stalking, breaking and entering

Chapter 1: Cologne

As soon as he had gotten off of the elevator, he knew that something was off. The hallway to his partner's flat seemed longer and more quiet than usual. The floor creaked one too many times. The air was thicker.

The door was open.

Not all the way open, but just a crack.

He gently kicked the door so he could see inside. No one was there and not a sound was made. He gripped the gun in his pocket.

"(Y/N)?"

Slowly, he entered the flat and took in all the demolition. Pillows, books, china - among so much else - was strewn across the floor. The bookshelf had been pushed to the floor and there was a large crack running down one side. The potted plants that had rested by the windows had been dumped out in the middle of the carpet. Several of your favorite paintings had big rips in them and the others had holes cut out.

"Darling?"

In the kitchen there was glass covering every inch of the tiled floor making it impossible to cross, but he didn't need to move to see the mess. The kitchen table was overturned with one of its legs broken - splinters sticking out in all directions. It looked like someone had snapped your plates in half then dumped them in the sink, save for a few that had been thrown against the wall. Appliances were smashed apart and rendered completely useless.

The bedroom was no better. Clothes were shredded and tossed about. The bedside lamps had been smashed to bits. Every drawer had been overturned - two of them reduced to pieces. The mattress had been taken out the bed and springs were coming out of it. Feathers from your pillows covered almost every surface.

From what he could tell, nothing of value had been taken except for one thing.

You.

-----

You had been staying with a friend. It was a rather impromptu sleepover. The two of you had gone drinking to celebrate your recent engagement and ended up having a little too much. As the responsible adults you were at least trying to be, you decided to crash at her place instead of making your way home.

The next morning, with a noticeable headache, you left early in the morning. Your fiancé was going to be coming home later in the day, and you had some cleaning to do. Nothing too serious, but it's always nice to come home to clean sheets and no dirty dishes.

However, it seemed that the day had something entirely else planned for you...

You're sitting in a seat by the door trying not to doze off when someone sits two seats away from you. Normally, you'd think nothing of it, but his strong cologne was aggravating your hangover. Trying to distract yourself, you try to read the train map across from you for the umpteenth time, however you can't help but see the man's reflection in the glass. His head is turned towards you.

Now your hangover wasn't the only thing making you feel uncomfortable.

Thankfully the next stop is yours and it only takes you seconds to get on the platform. Not looking back, you start to weave through the crowd, determined to get to the exit. The uncomfortable feeling follows you and it takes you a moment to realize why: the cologne smell was lingering.

Before you reached the elevators to another platform, a strong grip takes hold of your arm.

-----

"Haven't I told you to never break into my house again?"

"Ma'am."

"It's becoming a habit of yours."

"Sorry."

"One more time and you're off."

"I know."

"...I can't give you information that I don't have."

"Don't have or don't have authority to?"

"...Don't have authority to." M takes her coat off, but doesn't bother putting it away, opting to sit down instead.

"That's new."

"I do have my ways, you know." Out of her pant pocket, she pulls out a photograph of a man. "Don't look at me like that, Bond. Are you going to take it or not?" James reaches a hand out and she gives it to him. "He was seen with (Y/N) this morning in the tube." James looks up at that, his blue eyes more piercing than usual. "His name is Reid Slane and he's a freelancer of sorts."

"Where can I find him?"

"The address is written on the other side." James flips the photo over, glances over the writing, and slips in into the inside pocket of his coat. He goes to stand up but M stops him. "I hope you fully realize what's at stake here. If anything happens, I won't be able to cover for you - for either one of us."

"I know." He stands up and starts for the door.

"And Bond," He turns to see her looking directly at him.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Raise hell."

I really hope that you all liked it! The next chapter should come out sometime this weekend? I’m not sure because my schedule is all over the place. Anyway, as usual, please send me any requests or constructive criticism. I love hearing any kind of feedback!

- Simpy

#james bond x reader #james bond #x reader #daniel craig #established relationship #fanfic #fanfiction #M #romance #agent 007 #007 #movie characters #after quantum of solace #quantum of solace #gender neutral reader

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

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Slipping Through My Fingers

Read here on AO3!

When it comes to his children, Bruce has very few regrets. He loves them completely, scars and all. He wouldn’t want to change a single part of them.

But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t regret the timing with which each of these beautiful souls entered his life. Bruce has six children, but he’s never had a baby, and isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that a pity? He missed so much of their lives—so many milestones that every parent wants to remember forever but that he’s not even had glimpses of. He wasn’t there for the first steps or the lost teeth or learning how to ride a bike. He missed all of his children learning to talk, missed watching Sesame Street with them in the morning and making soapy mohawks in the bathtub. Bruce missed everything. He missed moments that he can’t get back, no matter how hard he yearns for a rewind. Take him back. Return to him the moments he lost without even knowing it until they’d already slipped through his fingers. Bruce has a few mementos to get him by, but they only grant him glimpses of the years he missed. Dick has a bin of old tapes from the Flying Graysons’ best performances that he likes to watch on bad days. Occasionally he’ll let Bruce watch with him. There’s something magical about watching the young boy in the tapes swing on the trapeze and pull gravity-defying moves, all the while knowing what a strong man that boy will one day become. Jason came to the manor with very little, having to travel light while on the streets. There’s a shoebox under the bed in his old room salvaged from his mother’s things, containing a handful of photos from Jason’s toddler years, a stuffed animal or two, some loose possessions. Bruce used to go through them after Jason’s death, just to give himself something to hold on to. Tim had more than Dick and Jason combined: plenty of photos, report cards, baby teeth, and coloring books all saved in storage. But as much as there was, Bruce still only had glimpses of the real Tim. Every family photo was stiff, like an assortment of plastic dolls. The papers and drawings that have been collected are too crisp, like they were shoved into a childhood folder and forgotten about without a second glance, not even making it to the refrigerator. All Bruce has of Cass’ childhood are videotapes of training sessions. He refuses to watch them, for both her sake and his own. Duke has a photo album he keeps in his bedroom, compiling plenty of baby pictures and family vacations. He’s only shown it to Bruce once. Otherwise, he keeps it in his bookshelf, untouched but for the handful of times he’s visited his parents, showing them old memories in case it will miraculously jog something and put the shards of them back together. The longer it doesn’t work, the less he’s willing to tell. The League of Assassins has an entire storage room of files on Damian’s development. Bruce has seen it. It’s like every move the boy made was monitored and catalogued, detailed without so much as a lick of emotion to remind anyone that this was a child being discussed. There were no shiny milestones to celebrate, only completed stages. No one commemorated his first word or first time seeing a butterfly, but his first time using a wakizashi sword earned five entire pages. If Bruce could go back in time, he would snatch up every one of his children and give them the lives they deserve, right from the start. No pain. No dead parents. No neglect, no heartache, no scavenging on the streets just to survive the night. He would wipe their slates clean if it meant he could stave off their suffering, just for a little while longer. He would do anything to go back.

Back when Bruce was a child and tragedy hadn’t yet torn his family to bloody shreds, there was one Fourth of July on which his parents took him to the circus. Alfred had an open invitation to accompany them, but, being a Brit, he politely declined from the day’s festivities. “I’ll have you know, young sir, that I served as a spy for the British forces and mentored Alexander Hamilton during his teenage years.” Bruce was ninety-nine percent sure that Alfred wasn’t alive during the American Revolution. That day was the first time Bruce had been to the circus. It was a local one, small with very few extravagant spectacles, but his father bought him peanuts and afterward the three of them watched the fireworks in Gotham Park. It was a day that imprinted itself on Bruce’s memory, sticking with him long after they were gone. So when he sees a flyer announcing that Haly’s International Traveling Circus is visiting Metropolis on the same day Bruce has an interview with Lois Lane for some column on America’s wealthiest men, how can he turn the opportunity down? The air is warmed by summer rays, the entire field radiating Metropolis’ natural brightness. The scent of peanuts and popcorn wafts from all sides and the classic tinkling circus music fills his ears. The show doesn’t start for another half hour, so Bruce settles on walking around, unsure of what to do with himself. He should get some photos to bring home for Alfred. He’s always had a fascination with jugglers. After some perusing, Bruce pulls up under a tree, shaded against the thick trunk. He’s just pressed send on the pictures to Alfred when he hears a voice from above. “Hey, mister.” Bruce looks up to discover a boy perched on a tree branch two feet above his head. The kid looks around six years old with black hair that curls around his ears. He’s wearing a bright red and green costume—obviously one of the performers. How a child his age came to be part of the circus, Bruce can’t begin to guess. He’s missing his front teeth and his skin, tan with a honey glow, makes his nationality hard to place. Bruce blinks up at the boy. “Hello.” The kid drops down and catches on the branch with his hands, dangling with his bare feet kicking in the air. “Whatcha doing here?” Now that he’s paying attention, Bruce can detect the slightest accent. Romani, perhaps? “Why does anyone come to the circus?” The boy laughs. “You don’t look like the kind of person who goes to the circus.” “Then what kind of person do I look like?” The boy thinks, swinging back and forth like a cartoon monkey. How his hands aren’t scraped raw from gripping the rough bark, Bruce doesn’t know. “A lawyer, maybe. Or a president.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts. “I’m neither of those things, unfortunately.” “Well, I’m an acrobat.” “I can see that.” “But I do other stuff too,” the kid tells him, “like I know how to juggle and how to walk on stilts and how to throw knives at targets. I’m getting real good at that.” “Are you sure a kid your age should be playing with knives?” The boy laughs. “You think knives are scary? You should see it when they let me play with the tigers.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You play with tigers?” That can’t be safe. Maybe he should have a talk with the ringmaster and make sure someone is ensuring that no little boy heads are getting bitten off by mighty jaws. “Oh yeah, the tigers are the best.” The kid swings his body upward, letting go of the branch and pulling a heart-stopping somersault midair as he falls. He lands on his feet without a wobble. “I know all of their names and they’re huge, like they’re this big”—he stretches out his arms as far as they will go, which makes the tigers a whopping two and a half feet tall—”and sometimes I’m even allowed to ride them!” Bruce leans back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms with a smile. “Is that right?” “Yeah!” The kid then launches into a string of chatter, so fast that it takes all of Bruce’s focus to keep up. He tells Bruce all about the circus’ tigers: what breed they are, how many they have, what they eat, what their names are (their actual names and the names the kid gave them; Marshmallow is his favorite), and how his dad once gave him permission to hold a hoop while a tiger leapt through it. The entire time, Bruce can’t help but wonder, is this what childhood is supposed to be like? Swinging on tree branches and giving oral reports about your favorite animals to complete strangers? Is this what growing up is like for normal children? Bruce doesn’t know whether to be envious of this little boy or concerned. He’s so innocent; it bleeds from every grin. There’s nothing weighing this kid down—literally and figuratively—and Bruce finds himself silently praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that it never changes. Let this kid stay pure, untouched by the evils of the world. Let him go his whole life swinging on branches and talking about tigers without a single setback. After a good ten minutes when the boy’s tumbled into a handstand and has moved on to tell Bruce about his favorite elephant Zitka, a feminine voice rings, “There you are, Dick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A beautiful woman approaches the pair, wearing an identical red and green leotard. She’s got matching black hair and blue eyes—too spitting of an image to be anyone but his mother. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re supposed to be backstage.” “Sorry, Mom,” Dick says, turning right-side up, but he hasn’t lost his grin. Now that he thinks of it, Bruce doesn’t recall it waning once in the entire time they’ve been talking. She takes in Bruce, suit and all, and plasters on a stage smile, sticking out her hand. “Mary Grayson. You’ll have to forgive my son, he gets excited easily. He’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let him.” But the glimmer in her eye gives Bruce an inclination that she has no problem being an audience for her son’s happy rants. Bruce shakes her hand. “Bruce. I take it you’re the Flying Graysons I’ve been hearing so much about?” “The very same. I hope you’ll be seeing our show tonight.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He winks at the littlest Grayson, who beams. Mary ruffles Dick’s hair. “Well, this little robin and I should be getting ready now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce.” “Likewise.” He leans down and shakes Dick’s small hand. “And if you ever come to Gotham, maybe you can tell me more about those tigers, eh?” Dick looks like he contains the sun itself. He’s sunshine incarnate. “Definitely!” He drags his feet when his mom starts leading him away, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Bye, Mr. Bruce!” He waves his hand like a windmill of its hinges, and Bruce can’t help but return it. Bruce hasn’t felt this content in a long time to the point where he has to stop in wonderment of it. It’s unlikely that Haly’s will end up coming to a place like Gotham anytime soon, but Bruce hopes for it anyway. After all, Gotham could use some sunshine.

Here’s the rest of it on AO3 because I don’t feel like formatting all 7,000 words on here lmao.

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naiatabris · 3 years ago

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ZevWarden Week Day 2's theme is "Gifts." We all know the Warden is an expert gift-giver (an idea I'm playing with here)--so what happens when it's Zev's turn? This is set in the modern AU of my "Charity Case" fic, shortly after the events of the story.

______________

“Hey, are you doing anything Friday after work?”

Zevran glanced over from the pan of eggs he was frying. Naia was making coffee at his side, carefully pushing the top of the press into the vessel to sweep the grounds to the bottom. Naia herself was not picky about her coffee, since she took it with a great deal of sugar and milk; she’d learned this more elaborate method for him, a fact he still did not quite know how to process.

“No firm plans, no. Do you have suggestions?” He winked at her. “Are they naughty ones?”

She laughed as she began to pour the coffee into mugs. “Not exactly. It’s my birthday. I always invite some people for dinner at that diner near the DFRC to celebrate. It’s very casual, but I’d love for you to come.”

“Then I will be there.” He slid the eggs from the pan with practiced ease before pulling out his phone to mark the appointment in his calendar.

*********

Later that day, as Zevran was headed out of Cousland Enterprises to find lunch, a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. “Hi, Zev!”

Zevran turned to see Beth Cousland walking through the CE door, a bright smile on her face. “Beth! A pleasant surprise. Lunch with a family member?”

She nodded. “I haven’t seen Fergus in ages, and I need ideas for Oren’s birthday. Hey, speaking of birthdays, what are you getting Naia for Friday?”

The question caught Zevran utterly off-guard. He immediately felt foolish. Presents. Of course. As customary in Ferelden as they are in Antiva.

“I … am still struggling with an idea,” he said, not quite lying. “And you?”

“Same here.” Beth’s face lit up. “Here, I’ve got a few minutes before Fergus and I are supposed to leave. Let’s call the expert.”

Barely a minute later, Beth had Alistair Griffin on speakerphone.

“Oooooh. I should have warned you.” Zevran heard Alistair take a deep breath. “Here’s the thing about Naia. She is absurdly, impossibly good at gift-giving. Those action figures on my bookshelf? They were my favorites when I was a kid. I lost them in a move after college but Naia somehow found me new ones. Another year, she sewed me my own Denerim Crashers jersey--that’s the old minor league baseball team that I used to follow before they moved to Highever. She put my name on it and everything.”

Zevran felt a nervous sensation beginning to spread through his stomach.

“So what are you getting her?” Beth asked, a little worried wrinkle between her brows.

“Soccer ball autographed by her favorite Denerim Lightning players,” Alistair said promptly. “Took me a while to find one with the goalie’s signature on it, but I finally had a good idea and I wasn’t going to screw it up.” He cleared his throat. “It was also more than I probably should have spent. Want to split the cost and put your name on the card?”

“Deal,” Beth said immediately. “Any other ideas Zev could use?”

“Unfortunately I spent months coming up with just that one idea,” Alistair said dryly. “Sorry, Zevran. But I wouldn’t worry about it. Gifts are her thing, I think she kind of likes that she’s so much better at it than we are. And most people at the party don’t bring a present. You’ve only been dating a month. She probably doesn’t expect you to get her anything.”

Zevran frowned. “I appreciate the insight,” he told Alistair sincerely. “But I would not wish to arrive empty-handed. I will think of something.”

After exchanging goodbyes with her boyfriend, Beth hung up the phone and gave Zevran a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s right, you know. Whatever you get her, she’ll appreciate the thought.”

Zevran was sure Beth had the right of it. But the knowledge that Naia valued gifts, that she spent so much time and effort on presents for those she cared about, felt like a challenge he wanted to meet. ‘Appreciate the thought’ would not do.

He wanted to find something she would love.

*********

Over the next few days, Zevran began jotting down a list of things he knew Naia liked, trying to come up with a potential gift. He listened to her remarks, paid attention to what she watched on TV, looked at her wall of family photos depicting graduations and cookouts and summer days swimming at a beach on the Amaranthine Ocean.

Coming up with a present was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Since Alistair had already secured the soccer ball, anything related to Naia’s favorite sport or team was out. She’d just bought new running shoes a few weeks ago. He considered something more intimate, but between them they had an impressive collection of toys, and lingerie felt like a gift for him as much as for her.

Perhaps a physical present was the wrong direction. He thought back to the birthdays he’d planned for Taliesin and Rinna. During their first year as Crows he’d taken Taliesin club-hopping, laying out his credit card for some absurdly expensive table service before the two of them headed back to Taliesin’s apartment with an enthusiastic third party. For the last birthday he’d celebrated with Rinna, he’d booked a table at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, followed by a night in a penthouse hotel suite with a spectacular view.

Neither of those ideas were right for Naia, though. He’d learned that she was instinctively frugal, that the prospect of a twenty-dollar cocktail made her wrinkle her forehead and order soda instead. A high-end Denerim restaurant or hotel with mostly shemlen patrons would feel like an ordeal rather than a celebration.

He wanted something special yet comfortable, nice enough to be a treat and yet not so expensive it made her uneasy. A difficult balance to strike, especially since he was still getting to know his new city.

But finally, on Thursday morning, it came to him.

*********

Naia had somewhat undersold her birthday celebration. When Zevran arrived at the diner, it was filled with balloons and packed with her friends--old high school and college classmates, teachers from Vanedrin High, and other rec center employees. He was trying to figure out how to insert himself into this clearly tight-knit and friendly group--but before he could puzzle over it too much, Naia seized him by the sleeve and began to introduce him around.

More than once, Zevran touched the pocket of his jacket to make sure the envelope he’d brought was tucked safely inside.

Alistair began handing her presents as the diner’s wait staff brought out buckets of fries and pitchers of beer. She squealed in glee over the soccer ball, turning it around and around until she’d examined every signature; a new backpack, a gift card to a movie theater, and a Denerim Lightning ball cap were all greeted with hugs and enthusiastic thanks.

And finally, as the wrapping paper was cleared away and the guests resumed their party, Zevran slid an envelope in front of Naia. “Happy birthday.”

“Zev! I should have told you, presents are always optional. But thank you.” She grinned at him and opened it.

Her eyebrows rose as she pulled out the photograph inside. “It’s--a little house? Next to the ocean.” Then her eyes widened in recognition. “Zev. This isn’t …?”

He nodded. “The beach where your family used to go in the summer. Places near the water do book up early, but I was fortunate--there was a cancellation next month. It is just a weekend, but …”

Naia leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his almost-apology. When she pulled back, her eyes were sparkling. “I can’t believe this! It’s amazing! My parents had to cut back on the trips when we started saving for college …” she trailed off wistfully, then looked down at the picture and beamed. “I don’t think I’ve been to the beach in years. I can’t wait.”

“I fear there is a small addendum,” he admitted. “I had to call your parents to learn more about your favorite spots. We will be attending the Tabris family cookout next weekend. Adaia and Cyrion were quite clear that ‘no’ is not an option.”

Naia leaned her head back and groaned. “Oh, Maker. I’m sorry in advance, Zev.”

Oddly enough, Zevran was not. He had never met the parents of anyone he slept with, and he could not deny that the idea was strange. But there had been something very pleasant about hearing the elder Tabrises insist on meeting Naia’s boyfriend.

He raised his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “A cookout is an acceptable price for the chance to see you in a bikini,” he murmured, too low for the rest of the party to hear.

“This place looks pretty private, Zev,” Naia murmured back. “If we’re lucky, we can skip the bathing suits.”

#zevwarden week 2021 #zevran x tabris #my writing #charity case #modern au #dragon age modern au

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

Text

mixtape | track eight

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Left or right?”

“Don’t look at me, I never fucking graduated.”

“Right, then you move it to the left,” Lisa offered, attempting to get past Grayson. He was having none of it, sticking out his tongue a bit while he focused on getting Indy’s cap arranged correctly, making sure her tassel was in the right spot.

Indy had passed her finals with flying colors, which came as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Top of the class, which was enough for her to feel a tiny bit proud of herself. The Dolan’s on the other hand, we’re over the moon, ready to celebrate her as if it was the greatest achievement anyone could accomplish. Grayson had picked her up from her last final, coaxing her to take a nap in the truck while he drove them out to Jersey, her head in his lap as she was finally able to relax after so many days of stress. He was glad - he wanted her energy to be high when she got to the house, considering he’d planned out a big family dinner as a surprise. He’d even caved and bought her her favorite non-vegan ice cream. She was so surprised that she cried as soon as she went in and saw Ethan and Lisa in the kitchen with little fake graduation cap headbands on.

Even though surprises weren’t her favorite, he hoped he could sneak in another, considering the real one wasn’t until the next day, and it’s arrival came as a text that buzzed in Grayson’s pocket.

Here!

He cleared his throat quickly, trying to hide his excitement as he stepped back from his girlfriend.

“Hey Indiana, I think there’s something at the door for you,” he said.

She squinted at him in accusation.

“You just called me Indiana.”

“Indeed I did.”

“That’s sus.”

“Just go to the door Dee.”

“Sus.”

“Dee.”

“G.”

“Indiana Jamie Cross, will you please open your door,” he said as formally as he could, knowing it would make her laugh enough to give in.

“If something jumps out and scares me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Holy shit just go open the door before I do it for you.”

She walked slowly but she listened to him, pulling the door open cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were gonna let me in.”

Indiana’s mouth fell open.

“Charlie?!”

Grayson Dolan had learned in the last week that the Cross women were stubborn beings, especially when it came to money. Which was why it took so long for him to convince the older Cross sister to let him buy her and Devin a plane ticket at Thanksgiving.

“We would love to be there, but I just bought the ticket to get out here, and money is kinda tight for us right now. I don’t know if we can swing it so soon again.” Charlie kept her voice down, pretending to look at some of the picture frames on the bookshelf while Grayson talked to her.

“I’ll buy your tickets, both of you, first class.”

“Grayson, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.

“But you didn’t ask. I offered, there’s a difference. C’mon, you know that she’d love to have you there.”

Charlie hesitated, bit her lip the way Indy always did. The back door opened, signaling that everyone was coming back inside and that their conversation needed to end. She looked up at him quickly, eyes darting across the room.

“I’ll think about it.”

It had taken her four days to finally agree and let Grayson send her the money for the tickets, though she insisted on flying coach, sending him back the rest of what he’d given her to cover first class, down to the cent.

Which was how she ended up getting tackled by a very excited Indiana outside her apartment door, so hard that they almost knocked Devin over in a whirl of blonde hair. Grayson caught her cap as it flew off.

“What?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here! I thought you couldn’t come, what the fuck!”

“Ask him,” Charlie laughed, lifting her chin towards Grayson.

She spun, eyes wide and shocked.

“You did this?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the soft eyes emoji right now, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she smacked his chest before she buried her face in it, sniffling.

“Hey, you don’t have to cry, you’ll mess up your mascara,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair before she stood up straight again, letting him swipe his thumbs under her eyes.

Ethan was watching the interaction from the couch with a bit of a frown. He pulled his eyes away and picked at some lint on his henley, but he kept his ears towards the kitchen. There was a tenderness, a careful nature in the way he spoke around Indy. It reminded him of the first time that Grayson had gotten a girlfriend. Peyton. They’d met on the first day of 7th grade, in science class, where Grayson didn’t care to pay attention, especially not with Ethan and the prettiest girl in the grade at his table. Ethan had teased his brother relentlessly until he finally got his words handed back to him when she actually agreed to a date - which involved him picking flowers out of his mom’s window box garden (he got in trouble for it later) and hiding them under his jacket when Sean dropped him off at the movie theatre. They’d kissed each other during the end credits, with tongue according to a very excited Grayson who came home and plopped himself on his brother’s bed and spilled every little detail. Ethan was single at the time, so he could only listen, and watch. Watch the way he carried her books for her to class and then sprinted to his own with only a few seconds to spare before the bell. Watched him beg his mom to dye his hair blonde when Peyton said she thought it would look cool. Watched him pass her notes all of class, not caring when Mrs. Patterson took one and read “I love you so much, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” in front of the whole class that included the majority of his wrestling team. And, he watched the pain on his face when they stumbled across Peyton kissing Jacob Bates behind the bus when she thought Grayson was at wrestling practice. He tried to keep it together, but he sniffled his way through Lisa dying his hair brown that night. Ethan had tried to cheer him up with his usual tactics - stupid inside jokes, making fun of Cameron, even making fun of himself. But Grayson didn’t laugh.

That was when he knew his brother loved hard. He was halfway convinced the reason that Grayson was the bigger twin in the womb was because of the size of his heart. That being said, it wasn’t unusual for Ethan to watch his brother be kind, and sweet, and loving to his girlfriend.

But there was something different with Indy. It was the first time that he could look at Grayson with a girl and see Grayson - unfiltered, unaltered. His twin brother, in his full form, not having changed a single aspect of himself to fit another person. And it made him happy. So happy that for a moment he was able to ignore the guilt that started to rush over him as he remembered all the things he’d said, about how their relationship wouldn’t work, and how Grayson needed to address it. It made him feel worse that he knew he was still right, no matter how in love his brother was.

In the kitchen, Charlie was flicking through settings on her camera.

“I know we have to leave soon, but we have to get at least a few pictures before you get all sweaty cause you get sweaty when you’re nervous,” she said, grabbing her sister’s arm and leading her over to the windows, positioning her with the right lighting.

They took a few normal portraits, some with her cap and some without, a few candids where Charlie did her best to make her laugh as Grayson watched on, the proudest smile on his face.

“Alright, I want one, I want one!” Devin chimed in, surprising both the Cross sisters. They turned to him with the same expression that had him laughing so hard he held his chest. It was the loudest sound that any of the Dolan’s had ever heard come out of him, but it was contagious enough to have them all smiling.

“What?! It’s not every day my little sis graduates college!” He teased, going to ruffle her hair but thinking better of it at the last minute, instead choosing to wrap her up in the biggest hug, her face adorably squished in the picture that Charlie captured.

After that, it was a revolving door of poses with everyone. Lisa fixed Indy’s hair for her before their picture, and Ethan stole her cap and wore it himself. He offered to take the camera, thankful for Charlie’s settings that seemed to work magic as he took a few cute one of the duo, even a few with Indy on Charlie’s back. Devin joined in and they recreated the shoot from their engagement party that Indy still had on the top shelf.

By the time it was Grayson’s turn, Indy’s cheeks were sore from smiling. But she couldn’t help but beam at him as he waltzed over to her in his dress pants and button down, all dressed up for her big day. She did her best to ignore the click of the camera as Grayson fixed her cap, moved her honors cords so they were even where they hung. They took the normal formal poses, and Grayson stole Ethan’s idea of borrowing the cap. But Indy gasped when he tossed it to the side and scooped her up bridal style, laughing as he held her tight and kissed her cheek, even dipped her a bit and looked up at Charlie for the photo op. Indy put it on her mental to-do list to get them printed as soon as she could, beyond excited to see them once Charlie sent them over.

“Okay, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” Lisa said, making sure everyone had what they needed for the short walk to the university. Everyone layered up, but while Grayson disappeared in search of his dress coat, Indy pulled her sister aside.

“Hey um. Did… did Dad talk to you at all this week?”

Charlie’s face melted into pity. “I’m sorry bubs.”

“No it’s fine, it’s no big deal. Didn’t expect him to, I just wanted to check so I didn’t get blindsided or anything if he showed up.”

Charlie just nodded and gave her a small smile. She didn’t tell her little sister that she’d told Kenneth about her graduation - four times, actually. He’d never responded, though she could see that he’d read them. Charlie was so used to making excuses for him that she had a whole list of them backed up. He had to work. Traffic. He wanted to come, but something came up. But when she looked at Indy, who wasn’t so much her little sister anymore, she bit her tongue, put her arm around her and headed out the door.

The ceremony was in the science building. John Clark University didn’t have anywhere big enough to house the entire graduating class, so they opted to split it up into smaller ceremonies by discipline instead.

“It should be pretty quick actually, there’s not a ton of us,” Indy said when they arrived, looking over her shoulder at all the graduates moving to get checked in and lined up.

“We’ll wave when you come out so you can find us!” To Indy’s surprise, Lisa’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Li,” Indy smiled, pulling her in for a last minute hug, trying not to get emotional herself at the fact that a woman who had no obligation to love her cared so much.

“Don’t trip,” Ethan grinned, nudging her shoulder to lighten the mood.

She turned to Grayson, kissing him quickly before she finally headed off, looking back a few times before she disappeared around the corner.

“Okay seats, seats, we gotta get good ones!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately leading the group through the rows - it was a massive lecture hall with the flip down chairs Grayson had only seen in movie theatres and movies. When they finally found five seats together, he found himself wandering what it was like to be in class somewhere so big, with so many other people learning the same thing.

Despite feeling like they were running late, there were plenty more graduates and families that filed into the building, taking their seats and patiently awaiting the procession.

Thirty minutes later they finally began to file through, a straight line of black robes and red and white tassels. Charlie spotted Indiana first, with Grayson a millisecond behind her, both of them standing up to wave until she saw them and waved back. He kept track of her as she went to sit down in her row, kept his eyes on her as best he could while the main speaker began his speech. He didn’t care what he had to say - he only had eyes for his girl, who looked back every so often and offered him a little wave that still had his heart fluttering like they were hiding in the curtains of Emma’s room all over again.

Grayson hadn’t experienced a lot of moments of pride in his lifetime. There were a few he could pinpoint - when Ethan won one of their wrestling tournaments in middle school, when their team won their lacrosse championship. When his mom’s salon won best in the city a few years back, when his sister graduated college. But what he felt in that next moment topped every single one.

The dean of the college of sciences asked everyone to hold their applause, and without any prior consulting, Indy’s entire squad ignored the rule.

“Indiana Jamie Cross. Bachelor’s of Biological Sciences. Summa Cum Laude.”

“WOOOOOO, YEAH DEE!” Grayson yelled it at the top of his lungs, not even noticing the way everyone turned to look at him. He could see Indy’s blush all the way from the stage as they all continued clapping until the next person was called.

For a moment he was afraid she was embarrassed, but when she took her seat again he saw her turn around and blow him a quick kiss. He caught it in the air and threw her a wink, excited to get to her to give her a real one, which was exactly what he did when she finally made it out of the stream of people at the end of the ceremony. Everyone’s hearts melted when he spun her around and planted one on her.

Charlie took a few more pictures of her with her diploma before Grayson spoke back up.

“Alright, coffee’s on me!”

It seemed to have gotten somewhat colder outside as the wind whipped around the buildings, and Indy curled into a much warmer Grayson as the group headed down the sidewalk. He moved his finger to her palm.

P-R-O-U-D-O-F-U

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her blush almost warm enough to soak through his coat.

But it was nothing compared to the redness that spread over her cheeks when she walked into Jets.

“HAPPY GRADUATION INDIANA!”

The cry was championed by Patrick, who stood in the lobby absolutely beaming at her, below a banner that they’d hung above the espresso bars that read the same. Indy didn’t have to ask - the grin on Grayson’s face gave it away. She wanted to ask him how long he’d planned that surprise, how many more he had in store. She felt woefully undeserving, especially when she realized that Patrick had shut down the store for an hour just for her.

“And I thought you giving me free coffee was bad for business,” she said in his ear when she hugged him.

“I don’t know what lover boy over there does but he covered normal sales for the hour and then some,” he mumbled.

One of the baristas handed Ethan a sign that read “closed for private celebration” to hang on the door, and then it was truly time to celebrate. Indy walked behind the bar like she had a million times before, happy to see that everything was still in the same place. Patrick threw her an apron that she jokingly tied on over her robe before she clapped her hands together.

“Alright, who wants what?”

She made some of her best latte art that day - leaves, a flower for Lisa, a slightly lopsided swan for Devin per his request. It felt nice to be in a familiar place doing something she was good at - it blanketed over the uncertainty that had begun to settle in when she realized that everything was on a trajectory of change. She would never sit in another undergraduate course, never have some of her favorite professors again. And there was always the factor of possibly looking at other schools - they all started their programs in the fall, which meant she had time to truly look, if she really wanted to. From her first tour of campus she’d always thought she would be at JCU for her whole academic career, but her mind began to wander when she heard the buzzing of all the other top schools that her cohort were applying to - Baylor, Harvard, and the one that had piqued her interest the most, UCLA.

She’d googled their admission rates one night when Grayson had fallen asleep during a back scratch, and her chances looked good. Really good. But she’d closed the tab quickly - LA was too far away from New York, from home.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” Grayson’s voice was soft as he clinked his mug against hers to get her attention.

“Just thinking,” she smiled, turning her head and tilting up until he kissed her quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Indiana hopped off her barstool and headed back behind the bar, following Patrick who had disappeared to the back storage room. It was like walking into a friend’s house you hadn’t been to in a while when she passed through the swinging door. The freezers on the left and the syrups in organized rows on her right, just like before.

“Don’t even think about trying to do any dishes while you’re here,” Patrick said, his back still to her as she moved to the sink. She’d had too much time to think while she sat and waited for her name to be called during the ceremony - too much empty mental space that could be allotted to all the things she should be doing. Which meant she’d managed to hatch up a whole plan to better herself in more ways than one in a mere 20 minutes.

“Do you guys still have the same insurance policy for employees? Like the new health benefits, the mental health ones that you all put in like two months before I left?”

Patrick turned the water off.

“Yeah, insurance is the same, it covers four therapy sessions a month for anyone who qualifies. But that’s just for full time employees. But I could probably pull a few strings and get you some benefits with part time hours… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine! I was just curious. Thanks.”

Indy turned to leave, jumping a bit when she realized that Charlie was behind her.

“What’re you doing back here?”

“I was looking for Patrick, there’s a delivery guy here with milk,” Charlie explained, but there was a seriousness in her brows that let Indy know that she had not only heard enough of the conversation, but that she was definitely going to have to talk about it later.

Damn.

She pushed the thought aside and put on another smile before they all exited the backroom, laughing at the sight of one of Ethan trying to steam milk. He turned at her entrance and lost his focus, moving the pitcher down too far and spraying almond milk everywhere before the barista who was helping him flipped the wand back up.

“Eden’s on facetime for you over there!” He pointed towards the counter and his phone, which Indy happily picked up to find a beaming Eden, who informed her that she’d sent a card that would probably be there a few days late, but she’d tried. She stayed on FaceTime while they all thanked Patrick again and headed back to the apartment, Lisa unveiling the gift pile and vegan cookie cake she’d managed to sneak in while Grayson had distracted Indiana with questions about his outfit choices. Almost every gift made Indiana cry - just the idea that they’d spent any time thinking about her was enough to have her emotional anyways. But between the blanket that Lisa had embroidered with JCU 20’, Ethan’s gift of a JCU Alumni sweatshirt and Indy’s dream record player that Charlie and Devin had got her, she was teary-eyed. Her mouth fell open when Grayson came out with a giant box from the spare room - she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he’d managed to sneak it in past her - but she didn’t care when she unwrapped it and realized it was a Mastrena.

“You bought me an espresso machine? Grayson! These things cost a fortune!”

“Yeah, but you graduated college! And now you can make lattes all the time.”

“Gray-”

“And you can make me lattes,” he teased, knowing it would take her a while to fully accept it. She just shook her head when he kissed her cheek, overwhelmed.

By the time the night was coming to a close, everyone was piled onto the couch, with Charlie and Indy on their boyfriend’s laps to make room for everyone as they watched Collateral Beauty at Indy’s request. Grayson frowned when she sniffled and held her when she cried, eyes more focused on her than the screen. And he couldn’t say he was too sad to see Lisa and Ethan say goodbye, or for Devin and Charlie to say their goodnights before they disappeared into the spare room.

The duo brushed their teeth in the sink side by side, and Grayson snapped a picture of them in the mirror with a foamy smile before they stripped down to underwear and scurried under the covers.

Indy was just as glad to have him to herself for the first time all day, and she soaked in his warmth, sighing when he pulled her closer.

“I love you. Thank you for today.”

Y-O-U-R-E-W-E-L-C-O-M-E he traced on her shoulder blade, lips on her forehead.

T-I-R-E-D?

“Why?” Grayson smirked, laughing quietly when she smacked his chest.

“It’s been a long day, that’s why.”

“For you,” he corrected.

“You had to sit around and watch me all day though.”

“You say that as if it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy. I could celebrate you everyday baby.”

She blushed at his words, burying her face in his neck.

“For someone as accomplished as you, you really suck at letting people acknowledge your accomplishments,” he teased, running his fingertips over her skin lightly. She did the same over his chest, tracing a hexagon.

“I’m… I’m not used to people being proud of me I guess.”

Grayson frowned and pulled back and looked at her, really looked in her eyes. They were still the color of the jellyfish, just a bit duller in the low light of her bedroom.

“I’m proud of you Indiana.” He paused, offering her a small smile. “But you know what? I’m not the most proud.”

Indy waited.

“Your mom. She’s gotta be the most proud of you. She’s seen every single minute you put in to get where you are right now.”

She crumpled into his chest, and the tears that had threatened her all day finally fell, hot and salty as they traveled onto his skin. It was quiet in the room for a while, and Grayson waited patiently - quietly, until she spoke again.

“I felt her today. She was there.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see her or anything. But I had a dream about her the other night though, and it felt like she was really there with me. And it felt like that today too. Does that ever happen to you? With your dad?”

“Oh all the time. He’s always with me. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times - like when I’m about to do stupid shit, or make a mistake, I can hear him clear as day in my head. But it’s comforting, you know? Knowing they’re there, watching over us.”

“Yeah.” Indy’s throat was tight all over again. She wished she could have met Sean for a moment, and then she realized that in some ways, in knowing Grayson, she had.

“You know, one of the things that really stuck with me, towards the end, was something his nurse said. Her name was Charlotte, and she must have been working fucking overtime because she was always there. But one day I was in the hallway, cause I just needed a break, and she came and sat down next to me on the floor. And at that point, I mean we knew. We didn’t know when, but we knew. And she looked at me and she said ‘sweetheart, this is a gift for him. He gets so much more time with you, because he can always be with you instead of only sometimes.’ And I remember, I was so fucking mad at her, because who the fuck says that shit to someone whose about to lose their parent? But she was right. She was so fucking right.

“And while the doctors were in and out, giving us all these numbers and all these timelines and all that, Charlotte was the only one who really told me anything that mattered. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my dad didn’t want to know anything about his… his cancer. He didn’t want to know his counts, or how much time he had left. He never asked, and she was the only one who stood by him in that, made sure that he didn’t know anything he didn’t want to. And it meant so much to him, in the end, that he had that choice. That was one of the only things he asked us to do, before he went. He told us not to cry, and he told us to take care of Ma, and Cam, but he told us to look out for Charlotte too. When we could think, we went back to the unit, asked the other nurses if there was anything she needed, and it turns out she’d been driving a 1995 Honda for a decade, and she didn’t think it would make it through the rest of the winter. We bought her an SUV, and I still don’t think she knows it was us, but I swear my dad told me which one to get for her. And he was so fucking proud.”

Indiana hung on his every word, watching him as he watched the ceiling, like he always did when he talked about his father.

“He has so much to be proud of Grayson. He helped raise a wonderful, wonderful man. The best, actually.”

Her voice snapped him out of his own head, and he turned to her quickly, worried.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for that. I like hearing about your dad, and it’s good to get it out sometimes. You can tell me anything that’s on your mind, you know that.”

He looked at her, there in his arms, eyes a bit puffy from tears passed, that soft smile on her lips that was somehow more endearing than her full one, and he felt tears of his own start to prickle. He knew she meant it, knew she would be understanding, and that somehow made it worse.

What was he supposed to say? I love you so much, and I think you’re the love of my life, but our lives are completely different, and I promised I wouldn’t ask you to go to LA, and I’m terrified of losing you and I don’t want to hurt you.

His lips parted, and then he closed them again. She yawned so hard that her nose scrunched, and when she was done she curled back up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

“M’tired,” she mumbled, which meant she was already half asleep.

He pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing the same letters she spoke.

“I love you more.” His voice was tight as his finger moved against the back of her arm, and he turned the lamp off before any of his tears fell.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When Indiana woke up, Grayson’s arms were like a cage around her. Usually, they were still somewhat intertwined when they woke, but she’d never had to maneuver her way out of his arms with so much force before.

She finally managed it, and replaced herself with a pillow that he gladly pulled to his chest. Indy couldn’t help but to lean over and brush some of his floppy hair out of his eyes, staring for a moment before she pulled herself away and headed into the kitchen.

The reason for her early wake up was standing in front of the fridge, with a head of blonde hair that resembled a birds nest.

When she turned around, she looked guilty as ever.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Indy reassured her sister with a smile, moving over to the coffee machine. “It’s 10 anyways, I’m surprised I slept that long.”

Grayson had gotten her a newer version that was actually fairly quiet, but she made sure both the bedroom doors were shut before she ground the espresso for her latte, and Charlie’s flat white.

Charlie was nice enough to wait until she had her mug to bring it up.

“So.”

Indy sighed. “So.”

“You asked Patrick about insurance stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to work there again?”

“I have to pay rent somehow, don’t I?”

“Dad pays your rent.”

“I don’t want dad to pay my rent, that’s the whole issue.”

“Okay, but you didn’t ask Patrick about salary, you asked him about insurance. For mental health specifically.”

“You know, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Are you okay? Because you know that you can always talk to me about stuff, whatever it is. And I know I’m not the best about talking about mom, but I can try, I’ve been doing better with it and-”

“Char. Stop. It’s not about mom.”

“Oh.” It was obvious by her long pause that she hadn’t considered an alternative, but Indy waited anyways.

“Then… what’s going on?”

Indy toyed with the foam on her latte with her finger, ignoring how hot it was.

“I was thinking about trying to get a handle on the plane thing.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want it to be such a big deal for me to just, fucking fly somewhere. I gotta get over that shit.”

Charlie pondered it for a minute, and she chose her next words carefully.

“Just to fly? Or to fly to a specific place.”

Indy laughed.

“You know, you’ve never been good at subtle. You got that from mom. But no, I’m not just doing it because of Grayson.”

“Did he ask you to?”

“Of course not, he wouldn’t do that.” Charlie’s shoulders relaxed. “But he does live in LA, which means I’ve gotta be able to fly out there.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Oh. Doesn’t he leave soon though?”

“January.” She said it casually.

“Inds that’s next month.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Charlie had a million more questions, but she held her tongue and sipped her coffee.

“I’ve gotta pack, our flight leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming you don’t have any breakfast food.”

“Actually, I do, but I’m not the breakfast chef around here.”

She sat her mug down on the counter and threw Charlie a wink before she headed back into her room as quietly as she could, sneaking up to the edge of the bed. Grayson had rolled to his stomach, something in his unconscious realizing that the pillow that he’d tossed away was in fact not his girlfriend. He almost looked too adorable to disturb.

Almost.

She went the gentle route, changing her mind on the pounce plan that she’d originally made. Instead, she crawled up the mattress and over his back, laying down on top of him with her cheek pressed to his warm shoulder.

He grunted a bit, but it turned into a sigh when she started peppering kisses along his skin.

“Mornin gorgeous,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What’re you doin’ back there?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Well- “ he rolled slightly, just enough to pull her over his side and onto the mattress so he could move right back with her underneath him -” maybe you should hang out down here instead.”

She relaxed into him like she always did, peppering kisses against his chest. Her hands ran over the ripples of muscles in his arms before she stopped and traced.

B-R-E-A-K-F-A

“Ahhh, so you didn’t just come in here for cuddles huh,” Grayson cut her off with a smile, quirking an eyebrow when she looked up at him.

“If you make us all avocado toast I’ll pay you in cuddles,” she offered. It puffed up Grayson’s chef alter ego just enough to convince him to get out of bed and throw some pants on. Indy stayed closed to him, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the morning as she helped him prep everything for breakfast. She could have done it, but Grayson’s pride at a very nicely laid out plate of avo toast, strawberries and honeydew was the best addition she could make. So she stuck to the coffees instead, passing over mugs as Devin appeared and Charlie followed, though she was still working on her cup from earlier.

“Well, now I see how he turned you into a breakfast person,” she said, graciously accepting a plate. They ate over quiet conversation, enjoying the last little bit of time they had before the airport and the inevitable goodbye. Grayson had bonded with the duo even more during their visit, and he was sad to see them having to leave again so soon. When Indy went to change, Grayson followed her, frowning when she didn’t pick her warmest jacket.

“It’s supposed to get really cold out, you’ll probably want your big one,” he said as subtly as he could, popping his knuckles as he spoke.

“I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer today,” she pouted. “We’re only gonna be outside to walk to the car.”

“Right, but you’re always cold. Just wear that one.” He gave her his most dazzling smile and she gave in, sliding in on before she left. Grayson was grateful that she listened - it meant he didn’t have to reveal his final graduation surprise too soon. He bit his tongue on the drive to the airport, gave out his hugs to Charlie and Devin, squeezing Indy into his side when she sniffled at the sight of her sister disappearing into the terminal.

Indy didn’t have a single suspicion until Grayson took a different turn into the city, much earlier than usual - 50th, instead of 26th.

“Bub? This is the wrong way.”

“No it isn’t.”

“We get off on 26th for the garage.”

“We aren’t going to the garage.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face - the sheepish one that always made Indy’s heart flutter. She’d seen it so many times, but it still had the same effect on her every single time.

“Well then where are we going?” There was a childlike excitement in her voice that made Grayson laugh. He pulled her hand up to his face, kissed her skin softly.

“You’ll see.”

The first stop it seemed, was a jewelry store.

“This is not the surprise by the way, just an errand. Gotta pick up a christmas gift for mom.”

“I was gonna get her a sweater for christmas, do you think she’ll like that?”

“Li does love a good sweater. She’ll love anything you get her though, you’re the favorite.”

Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t respond as one of the workers came up and asked what they were there for. When Grayson gave his name she headed to the back and came back out with a small box.

“May I?” She asked.

Grayson nodded, waiting for her to open it. Inside was a beautiful ring, silver and delicate, with a large light blue stone in a princess cut.

“It’s beautiful,” Indy mused.

“Blue topaz. My dad’s birthstone. Mine and E’s too. You think she’ll like it?”

“Gray she’ll love it, of course she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” His nerves were evident - he was always on a mission to make sure that his mom still had a good Christmas, although she always said all she needed was to have her kids back under her roof for the day. He paid the final portion of the ring payment and slipped the box into his pocket, waiting until they were back outside to turn to Indy with a wide smile.

“Now, we really celebrate.”

They walked hand in hand down the street. Indy kept her protests to herself - she wasn’t used to being spoiled in any way. In fact, it still made her uncomfortable when anyone spent money on her in any form, but she tried to remind herself that money didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. So when they strolled up to one of the nicer restaurants in the city for a late lunch, she bit her tongue and tried not to think about the prices, following him inside to the warmth. It was dimly lit, the type of place where the host would take your coat off and pull your chair out for you.

Grayson beat him to it, fingers brushing over her shoulders while he pulled her coat off. She felt underdressed in just jeans and a sweater, but he looked at her like she hung the moon for him and him alone, and she wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day in their lives together that he couldn’t make her blush just by looking at her.

The menu didn’t even have prices next to the items, and it made Indy’s mouth dry enough for her to finish her water before the waiter even came back for their order.

Grayson noticed. He always noticed. He reached a hand across the small table for her hand, thumb running over her smooth acrylics that she’d gotten pre-graduation.

“Why are you nervous bub?”

“This place is expensive,” she explained after a moment’s hesitation.

“And graduating college a year early is a feat worth celebrating,” he reminded her, raising up his wine glass filled with water. “Despite the fact that you seem to hate being celebrated.”

“I don’t hate being celebrated. I’m just… not used to it I guess. Wasn’t a big Cross family thing, even before.”

“Well, it’s a big Dolan family thing.”

“I guess I better get used to it then.”

She clinked her glass against his as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hidden by the lighting. He pushed the thoughts from his head, the constant nagging he seemed to never be able to escape from, the better part of his conscience begging him to do the right thing, to tell her what he was thinking. She didn’t deserve for him to drag it out if he really was going to end things - she deserved so much more, more than he could give her with the life that he led. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something she’d reel him back in with a smile, or a witty comment, or just a look, entirely unaware of what she was doing. And he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but the spot that she’d managed to carve out in his soul in just a few short months. He knew deep down he’d never find anyone else to fill it, but he also knew that she deserved to live the life she wanted to. A life without a boyfriend whose life interfered with hers. He just didn’t know how to reconcile with the fact that he would break her heart, and his own in the process.

So, he ignored his conscience and gave in to the selfish side of himself.

When she asked where he’d gone, he said he was planning, and it wasn’t a lie. If he was only going to have so many days with her, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice a single moment.

So he held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food, striking up a conversation about college memories and her classmates that she would miss the most. The food was as incredible as he expected, and he made a mental note to thank Ethan for the recommendation. Grayson made sure that Indy didn’t see the inside of the bill when the waiter brought it, even being careful to slip the $200 in cash in the billfold practically under the table.

He led her back out into the cold, for once thankful for the early sunset of NYC that already had the city lights glowing against the fading sky. There was something magical about it, about existing on the streets with so many other people, knowing each one of them had their own story and life that they led. Indy people watched as Grayson led her safely down the streets, letting her cling onto his arm for comfort and warmth. It was only a few blocks until they saw the metallic flags and turned the corner to find the Rockefeller Center tree, massive and glorious in its height. It was speckled with what seemed like millions of lights, all twinkling in bright colors amongst the branches.

“Wow.”

Grayson watched the wonder on her face with a chuckle. “You’re a New Yorker, aren’t you supposed to be used to this shit?”

She smacked his arm, but kept her eyes forward. “I haven’t been to see it in years. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

He let her admire it as long as she wanted, resting his cheek against the top of her head when she leaned over on him.

“You wanna get closer?”

She frowned at him. “How?”

Grayson started walking with her in tow, down the stairs and around the plaza until he got to the ground level, fishing two tickets out of his jacket pocket for the attendant at the front of the ice rink. Indiana squeezed his arm.

“Gray. Baby, this is so sweet, but I can’t skate for shit.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he laughed, shaking his head before he kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

They checked out their skates quickly, lacing up on one of the benches before Indy rose on wobbly feet, immediately letting out a squeal and reaching for her boyfriend. He caught her with a laugh, adjusting his own balance before they started walking to the edge of the ice. That familiar Grayson confidence was evident as he stepped on, getting his bearings before he reached out a hand for her.

“C’mon, I’ve got you. You got this, just one foot at a time.”

She grabbed both his hands and let him counteract her weight as she tried to get her footing, finally finding her balance after a moment of wobbling.

“Okay, now push off with one foot and glide with the other. Like this.”

He went to let go to demonstrate, and she clung to his hands with a squeak. “Don’t let go!”

Grayson’s cackle bounced off the ice. “Okay, okay! I’m right here, you’re good. Just try.”

Indy didn’t like not being good at things. But god was she terrible at ice skating. It didn’t matter how much instruction Grayson tried to give her, it was like it refused to translate into the movement of her legs. She was adorable when she was frustrated, but Grayson wanted it to be enjoyable for her too, so after a few laps around of watching her struggle he slid behind her, hands solid on her hips.

“Just keep your legs and feet straight, and I’ll do the rest.”

She held onto his hands as he started to push her along - she’d forgotten that he was annoyingly athletic but the feeling of actually gliding across the ice kept her from teasing him about it. It was peaceful, and despite the crowd both on the ice and above them by the tree, she felt like they were the only two in the city.

Grayson took them through the middle after they’d gone around a few times, towards the center for one pass and she squeezed his hand when they got there.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned his skates, throwing a bit of ice onto her ankles on accident, peaking over her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Turn me around. Please.”

He did as she asked, faster than he meant to, and it had her nails digging into his shoulders as he tried to hold her up without them both going down. She was breathing fast when he got them steady, quirking an eyebrow.

“We gotta take a picture in front of the tree!”

He obliged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning them slowly until the tree was behind them, snapping a few of the two of them smiling before he kissed her cheek, and then her lips, randomly pressing the button and hoping they were still in frame.

Her lips were cold against his, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick she’d put on before they’d left the restaurant. It sent tingles down the back of his neck that made him put his phone back in his pocket and pull her closer to him.

Wrong move. He’d never met someone so uncoordinated in his life, and it was the closest call of them all when her legs started to flail. His only hope of saving her from hitting the ice was to pick her up fully and hope that he could keep his balance with the sudden weight shift.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, clinging to his neck while he laughed.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he teased, and in a moment of confidence he dipped her down like they were dancing and kissed her again. The same tingle went down his neck, the hair there standing up, still there even when he sat her on her skates again, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist.

Above them, as if someone had turned on a machine, it began to snow. Big fluffy flakes fell around them, disappearing into Indy’s light hair and speckling the top of Grayson’s. It was magic in its simplest form, and Indy couldn’t help but beam at him.

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he said, and he meant it.

They headed off the ice a few minutes before their session expired, unlacing their boots with numb fingers that they shoved in their pockets for the walk back to the truck. As soon as they climbed in the cab Grayson blasted the heat and opened an arm for Indy to cuddle up next to him. Once they were thawed enough, Grayson proposed the idea of hot chocolate, specifically to help the fact that Indy’s teeth were still chattering. Which was how they ended up at Jet’s 40 minutes later, squished together in the blue chair by the window, watching the snow fall as they sipped peppermint hot chocolates that Patrick had given them on the house. Grayson dropped a 20 in the tip jar anyways.

The lobby was busy, with people in and out constantly, wiping the snow off their shoes as best they could on the small doormat. They shuffled through the line, a few of them sitting down for a moment to wait for their names to be called. Indy was used to the bustle, though she felt a bit guilty that she wasn’t behind the bar helping out when she had the skills to. Instead, she just smiled any time a barista looked her way, and spent the rest of her time watching the snow outside.

Grayson’s eyes were on a girl. A few girls, actually, who looked oddly familiar though he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They’d sat at a table towards the back of the store, having come in right behind him and Indy. But since then they’d moved forward one table, and then another, and the not so subtle way that two of them had angled their phone had that familiar prickle at the back of his neck rising again. He shifted in his chair quickly, turning his head away and attempting to do his best to block the view of Indiana.

“Hey, you ready to get outta here?”

“Did you finish already?” She asked, surprised considering her cup was still half full.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just figured we could get home and change into some cozy pjs is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Indy moved in to kiss his cheek, and though he tried to pull away, he didn’t do it fast enough.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Two for two. “Let’s just get home.”

The walk was as short as ever, but it was enough time for Indy’s mind to race. Had he been annoyed that she said something about the restaurant being expensive? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to help her ice skate - most people could at least hold themselves up on the rails at least. But he’d seemed so happy, which somehow made her feel worse, that she’d missed it somehow.

By the time they made it to the elevator, she was borderline panicking.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something?”

Her words broke Grayson out of his own thoughts, and he rushed into reassurances.

“No, it’s not you baby. It’s not, I promise.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

“I’m good, really. Just wanted to get home.”

For the first time in her almost three months of knowing Grayson, she didn’t believe him. But she knew when to drop a subject, so she just nodded and followed him out of the elevator.

Half of Grayson’s wardrobe seemed to have migrated into Indy’s apartment, so it wasn’t hard to find cozy clothes that had them curled up together on the couch in no time. Grayson felt guilty, and tried to distract himself by running his fingers through her soft hair, tried to focus on the weight of her leaned against him. She was quiet as she scrolled through show after show, not really looking. She picked a random cooking show eventually just to fill the silence in the room, moving to lay across Graysons lap. His hand moved under her shirt, fingers still a bit cold as he ran them lightly over her skin.

She didn’t say anything, just glad to have him there with her. She traced on top of his sweatpants, shapes and words, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U. The fabric was so thick that he could barely make out what she was writing.

“Thank you? For what?”

She rolled over so she was looking up at him. “For today. For celebrating me.”

He traced a thumb over her cheek. “You’re welcome. I love you. So much.”

“C’mere,” Indy said, reaching up for him. It took some shifting, but eventually they got settled where they were laying together on the couch, with her pressed between the cushions and his chest. She was warm as she kissed him, slow and calculated, trying to get across to him that she was there for whatever he was going through without the words. He reciprocated, but his mind was still spinning, images of the girls and their phones behind his eyelids.

The kiss faded out into cuddles which faded into an uncomfortable silence that Indy was desperate to resolve.

“What’s the update on the tiny homes? Weren’t the floor guys supposed to come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, Ethan went out there and said they were almost done. We’ve got some interior designers coming out tomorrow and then they’ll be done-done,” Grayson explained, heart rate rising as yet another opportunity to tell her came up.

“They really got those done so fast. I guess that’s a perk of a tiny home though, not much floor space to floor. How often do you guys think you’re gonna come out and stay in them?”

He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to tell her.

“Well, actually-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a call from Ethan.

He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he fished his phone out of his pocket anyways, sliding over to answer.

“Yo.”

“Hey, mom wants to put up the christmas decs tomorrow cause she still doesn’t have them up. You remember where we put the lights?”

“Yeah, they’re in the attic I think, with the tree.”

“Well, you’re the family santa, so get your ass out here early tomorrow to hang some lights. And bring Indy too, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t make breakfast, we’ll bring donuts or something.”

“Fuck you, be here at 10.”

He hung up, making Grayson roll his eyes and look down at Indy.

“You up for Christmas decorating tomorrow at home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! But I’m sure as fuck not getting on the roof.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do the roof, you can do the stuff inside with Ma. Deal?”

“Deal,” she smiled, wiggling up to kiss him again, trying to chase out the rest of her worries before she curled up into his chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snow had piled onto the sides of the highway in ugly mounds stained with dirt and asphalt drudged up by the plows. So Indy kept her eyes on the trees as they flew by, specifically the evergreens she saw, with their green bristles weighted down with white, heavy and thick.

“Are you sure you guys wanna get on the roof with all this? Won’t it be slick?”

“Nah, Dad used to do it all the time. I’ll just make E shovel while I try to find the clips we put up there last year. Besides, if I fall off I’ve got a doctor to mend me up,” he teased, squeezing her leg.

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Okay, well an almost doctor then. How many years until you’re actually one again?”

“11 years minimum. Well, 10 for me cause I skipped a year in undergrad. But it could be up to 16, depending on how long my residency would go.”

“And you’re gonna do it all through JCU?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan right now,” she mumbled, eyes still focused out the window.

“Hey,” he got her attention, waiting for her to turn to him. “You’re gonna be an amazing doctor someday. You’re gonna help so many people. Just having you in the room, doing the little things for people, that’s gonna mean more to those people than you even realize. They’re gonna be really lucky to have you.”

The sentiment seemed to arise out of nowhere, but she still blushed at his kind words. “The little things are actually more the nurses, but thank you.”

He let her watch the trees for the rest of the drive, and she was so focused on them that she barely noticed Ethan already on the roof when they pulled in.

He had a bright orange shovel in his hands, the scoop full of snow that he began to swing back and forth once they stepped out of the car, shoes crunching the snow below them.

“Don’t you dare!” Indy called, but it was too late. The snow was already flying and she squealed, grabbing Grayson and pulling him out of the way while it rained down right where they had been standing.

A moment later and Lisa was outside, hands on her hip with the menacing energy only a mom could produce.

“Ethan Grant! That’s how you fall and bust your fucking head open! Knock it off!”

Grayson bit back a laugh when Ethan kicked a tiny bit more snow off the edge so it sprinkled down by Lisa.

“Will you get up there before he falls off please?” She turned to Grayson, exasperated. “Indy, come in, it’s cold.”

It was Indiana’s turn to laugh when Lisa hooked their arms together and led her into the house, leaving Grayson out in the snow. He grabbed the lights that Ethan had already gotten out, looping his arm through before he headed up the ladder at the lowest point of the roof.

“I’ve already done the other side of the house, so I’m just here for moral support and to save your ass if I need to, my job is done,” Ethan explained, moving over to a spot by the chimney to sit down.

“Oh yeah, you shoveled on a downhill slope, the horror,” Grayson muttered, but in all honesty he would rather do the lights himself anyways.

They talked about the tiny homes and the final touches they needed while Grayson moved around the roof carefully, trying to counteract his balance when he got closer to the edge, cursing his mom silently for having roofs so high that they couldn’t do it from the top of a ladder.

The front of the house went without incident, and Ethan begrudgingly helped by holding the extra lights while Gray strung them. But when Ethan went down the ladder to get the next strand to connect, he took a minute too long to come back up. Grayson tried to use what little patience he was born with, but it fizzled out quickly, making him stomp across the roof to the edge.

“Yo, what the fucks taking so long?”

“Gray.”

“Can you not find them or what?”

“Grayson.”

He didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice.

“What? What happened?”

“Come down here.”

Grayson took the ladder so quickly that his feet almost slipped, but he was at his brother’s side in a moment, taking his phone that he had outstretched.

His stomach dropped into the snow under his feet as he began to scroll with a numb thumb. There were pictures. So many pictures, and Indy was in every single one of them. Tweet after tweet with different screenshots of the two of them - looking at the tree, ice skating, sitting in Jets, even walking down the street. He pieced it together, realized that the reason the girls had looked familiar was because they’d followed them.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Bile rose in his throat when he found a video, zoomed in as far as it would go with surprising quality as he pushed Indy along on the ice, towards the middle of the rink. He watched her squeeze his hands and laugh, watched himself turn her around so they could get their picture, watched himself kiss her cheek and her lips.

He didn’t want to read, but he couldn’t help himself. There were a few familiar handles that talked about how happy they were for him, but the majority of it was exactly what he expected.

So much for ‘working on himself’ he’s back on the constant girlfriend trend

Didn’t think she was his type but okayyyyy I guess 🥴

When we said we didn’t want Grayson to end up with an LA girl, we didn’t mean ~that~

Her insta is indiana.jamie, i’ve never even heard of her

The worst was a two set of images from Jet’s, where her face was in plain view. The second one had edited lighting, and was zoomed in on his pocket, with the text above it.

Look I know I sound crazy but WTF IS IN HIS POCKET? IS THAT A RING BOX? GRAY BABY NOOOOOOO

“Fuck.” He couldn’t find another word, and Ethan was no help. A call from Adele came in on his phone, and E looked at him for approval. He just nodded and let him answer, turning away and heading into the house, not even bothering to clean his boots.

“Dee! Indiana!”

“In here!” She called back and he jogged into the living room, not realizing he was breathless until he got there and saw that the tree had been assembled. She had an ornament in her hand when he ran in and she put it on the tree quickly, her stomach tightening at the look on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Where’s your phone, have you looked at your phone?”

“It’s over there, it’s just been playing music. Baby what’s wrong?”

He ran over to it, muttering out a ‘shit’ when the screen lit up, both at the flood of notifications and the fact that her lockscreen had changed to their picture from the ice.

“Woah.” She took her phone from him, unlocking it and heading after all the notifications on instagram. “Holy shit. I got 3,500 new followers, what the fuck?”

“Indy, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her phone and looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should have thought about it, there’s not usually paps in New York, I didn’t even think about fans, and now everyone’s tweeting a bunch of bullshit about you, I’m just, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Slow down,” she murmured, hand moving to his face. She saw Lisa leave the room out of the corner of her eye, but she kept looking at Grayson. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen.”

“They saw the ring box in my pocket in some of the pictures, they probably think we’re fucking engaged, and they’re gonna be relentless. Every time you get online you’re gonna see some bullshit about you because of me.”

“Gray, it’s alright. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t, nobody can, it’s gonna get to you. If you say it doesn’t effect you, you’re fucking lying.” He ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, sucking in a breath that Indiana recognized.

“Gray, don’t cry. Look, look.” She unlocked her phone again, exited instagram and held down until it shook, deleting it quickly from her phone. “I don’t even post much anyways. And I don’t have a twitter, I’m not gonna see what they say about me. I don’t care, I promise you I don’t.”

Her gut told her a different story. Though it wasn’t her favorite quality of herself, Indy liked to be liked. It was natural, but she sought validation from other people more than she wanted to, and it made her dangerously curious to see what had caused such a visceral reaction in her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head. She got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

And for the first time in his almost three months of knowing Indiana, he didn’t believe her.

#WOOOOOO #I hope you guys like it!#let me know what you think pls :')#mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic

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system76 · 4 years ago

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System76 Spotlight with Adam Balla

Welcome to the first of an ongoing series where we get to know some of the amazing people behind System76! This week, we kick things off with one of our newest members, Adam Balla (AKA chzbacon), who has just joined the Marketing Team as our Content Producer. Learn what makes his content creation heart go pitter-patter, and why his electric smoker is his must-have cooking appliance.

When did you first become interested in Linux computer systems?

When my roommate introduced me to Slackware in 1999, he was working as a Linux system admin and he really got me interested in Linux. I was going to the Art Institute of Houston at the time for a Multimedia Design degree, and the thought that you could create your own desktop operating system really appealed to me. I didn’t need to stare at the same old tacky operating system I’d used for years.

I found myself, like many nerds of the era, at a Micro Center in the early 2000s rummaging through the discount software bins, trying to snag up multi-CD Linux distributions. This journey exposed me to several of today’s most popular Linux distros. One of those was SUSE Linux 5.3, of which I still keep the tattered book on a bookshelf as a reminder. I did however finally find my place in the world of Debian, which is where I essentially live today. Honestly not much has really changed other than using Pop!_OS as my main distribution—though like any Linux diehard, I still love to download, test, and sometimes install all the Linux.

When did you start becoming a champion for open source hardware and software?

It was a few years after that. Once I got back from the Art Institute and I was working in the area, we needed a server for the screen printing shop that I worked at. Knowing about Linux at that point, I was able to set up a server using consumer-grade gear that we could store all of our artwork and assets on. Moving forward, I set up a server for the newspaper that I worked at for a decade, which I know is still running to this day. After using Linux in that sort of environment and knowing it was good enough for a business, I knew it was good enough for me and my needs.

How did you get involved in content creation as a career?

My father was an engineer. When I was young I was always, like most kids, into drawing cars and doodles and cartoons, but I was used to having a drafting table at the house. Computing came around, and my father bought an IBM 486 and one of the original digitizing tablets, and so I got to play around with that. Eventually, he got upset because I was on the computer more than he was, so he bought me an IBM 386 to use.

Around 1995, my dad learned from a coworker about Photoshop. I begged him to get me a copy, and he finally did for Christmas. That’s when I started playing around in Photoshop and really fell into wanting to create for a living. Similar to what my father does, but maybe not as stringent in the decision that I make—no building is going to fall down from my creative process.

And that’s how I got into the whole content creation piece. I created a cover for the album of my high school bands and then started doing work for more local bands. Back then, there were no digital art courses, so I learned a lot by doing and trial/error.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

Working together as a team during the initial brainstorming process. Going through all of the ideas and details, sometimes writing them down, sometimes not, and even laughing at myself at how ridiculous an idea may sound. I love the process of the very first step. I love to set the vision for the project work from there to turn that vision into reality.

How did you first learn about System76?

I first learned about System76 through Chris Fisher and Jupiter Broadcasting. I believe they were reviewing the Leopard Extreme in 2012, on what at that time was the Linux Action Show. That’s when I started to look at System 76 and their offerings and wondered if it would be better for me to build my own Linux desktop, or adopt something and support the open source community. It’s been a little while since then, and I’ve always kept my eye on System76. Then with the release of Thelio, that really pushed me to the point of, “Wow, these guys are creating their own beautiful custom chassis and they’re incorporating different materials together. What a beautiful machine.”

I was speaking to my wife (financial advisor) about purchasing one in 2019, and I spoke to Emma and some other people at System76 about my desire for one, and I don’t know how, but Emma encouraged me not to buy one! And then I was given the opportunity to come to System76 for the Superfan event, where I was fortunate enough to be one of a dozen people who were gifted a Thelio desktop. It sits on my desk to this day; I even bought a larger desk just so I could put it up there and see it every day. I really appreciate the humble beginnings of System76, and I’m so glad to finally be a part of this amazing team.

Let's get into that creative brain. What is your favorite viral video and/or ad, and why do you love it so much?

I have a few ads that I like. I’ve always liked Honda’s messaging and their ads.

I like these ads because of the way in which they go through their history and lineage and the way that Honda itself has marketed its products as “People First” products—very similar to when they introduced their motorcycles to the US with their “You meet the nicest people on a Honda,” campaign. I think that was in 1962, so this was during the height of the motorcycle gang craze. Then comes this little Japanese motorcycle company and markets their products in a completely opposite image from the rest of the industry. They dared to be different and it paid off for them. Selling over 100 million Honda Cubs since 1958. Being given the title of most produced motor vehicle in the world.

This may come as a surprise to some, but I also really love the original Orwellian-inspired Macintosh commercial, which only aired once during the 1984 Super Bowl. Created by Steve Hayden, Brent Thomas and Lee Clow. In my opinion, these guys really created disruptive advertising, so much so that the ad still resonates today as much as it did then. While I don’t think you need to incite fear to sell a product, it showed that Apple dared to be different.

I’m not sure what constitutes a viral video these days. I’m not sure if it’s having a billion trillion views or just simply infecting one person who saw your video. One that always gives me a chuckle has to be “News Anchor Laughs At Worst Police Sketch Fail”. The honesty on the anchor's face makes me lose it every time.

When you’re not helping to lead the Open Source revolution, what do you like to do with your free time?

I really like going on walks and taking photos. Photography to me is one of the last honest art forms. What you see really is what you get. I love to tinker and make things, I have a 3D printer that my wife and I purchased as a joint valentine’s gift to each other last year. We started using it right when COVID broke out, so we made around 900 face shields which we distributed to schools, day cares, dentist's offices, anyone who needed one. That’s what we did for about the first 6 months when we first got it. Now, my wife loves to print earrings, for example, and I like to build different fun electronics projects.

I also love to cook, especially for large groups. I just got done with an Easter Weekend + Birthday celebration where we cooked 100 lbs of crawfish, 10 lbs of pork shoulder, sausage, and boudin (which is basically rice and pieces of pork that have been mixed together with seasonings and then put into a casing like sausage). One of my main requirements actually for a place in Denver is somewhere I can bring my electric smoker. It’s a must-have for any Texan.

What are you most excited about with your new role here at System76? To help change the computing landscape as we know it today. Into a future where technology is free and open. A world where you're encouraged to break things, fix things, and learn how they work. Aside from changing the world and stuff, I'm really excited to have a chance to work with such an insanely talented group of people.

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nomanwalksalone · 4 years ago

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FIVE AGAINST ONE

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

International tragedies have a way of making me sympathetic to the works of Hugo Jacomet. Perhaps his works somehow anticipate the direction the world moves. Recently, as the world sinks further into darkness and chaos, he has come out with Souliers d’Exception, a tome even more luxurious and humongous than his previous The Parisian Gentleman, as if his books have undergone some sort of abyssal gigantism (sorry, I have a small child who loves nature shows). Its astonishing, bookshelf-defying dimensions contain an enormous number of lovingly photographed, nearly life-size, portraits of individual shoes, and tellingly contrast with the new shoe book by one of the past generation’s most established #menswear writers, Bernhard Roetzel’s Herrenschuhe nach Maß (Bespoke Shoes for Men). Your friendly neighborhood RJman is happy to draw on his language powers in anticipation of the forthcoming English translations of these two books.

Before Internet #menswear enthusiasts came out of their #steez-stuffed closets and joined online discussion boards, and long before social media apps were gleams in sociopaths’ eyes, Roetzel and his Gentleman: A Timeless Fashion were one of the few resources available to those of us not to the manner born. With stereotypically German precision and reasoned dryness, he catalogued tailors on Savile Row, shirt shops on Jermyn Street, and shoemakers in Northampton, along with the virtues of wet shaves, heavy English breakfasts, and other aspects of an Anglophilia almost too charming to be cliché. It was all we had, a pedagogical wish book to flip through over morning coffee. In the intervening 25 years, Roetzel’s updated that book, and come out with a few others with slightly broader horizons (ie not stopping at the cliffs of Dover). But Herrenschuhe nach Maß continues Gentleman’s promise of accessibility, a how-to if one only has the opportunity, even as it interestingly focuses on German (and other Central European) shoemakers, in particular Korbinian Ludwig Heß, who is not a Star Wars character but rather the Berlin cordwainer making Roetzel a pair of custom shoes.

The book painstakingly follows Heß’s shoemaking process. Before Roetzel studiously walks the reader through each and every carefully photographed step of that process (from the initial meeting with the shoemaker to discuss what the customer would like to the maintenance steps the shoemaker recommends for his finished creation), he takes the reader through the prologue to that sequence: the rationalizations any man who decides to order custom shoes today must make to himself. For Roetzel, the old rationalizations, the ones we used to tell ourselves before the internet, and before labor costs, rents, and the disappearance of knowledge and talent went into overdrive, still hold. They are a timeless investment, and furthermore not so expensive when compared to other male discretionary purchases like a riding lawn mower (!) or an electric guitar.

The problem with that comparison is that both mowers and axes are the sorts of purchases men have little shame admitting. A riding lawn mower is useful (and if it chopped off a foot, I suppose it could lower one’s bespoke costs by half); it suggests an interest in one’s house rather than one’s wardrobe, avoiding the charges of self-indulgent, if not downright perverted, frivolity that we would face if we admitted the costs of good custom clothing to those around us. An electric guitar, similarly, is an accepted (if somewhat #dadcore) hobby. Most of us who partake of custom clothing have to recognize it, too, is a hobby, in that it is an indulgence to which we devote the fraction of cash that we would otherwise be devoting to more socially acceptable diversions.

Roetzel attempts to make this shadowy pursuit seem accessible, literally: he explains that there are numbers of talented local craftsman around Central Europe and that their prices, while far from cheap, represent the sort of affordable indulgence those other items are. (In contrast, for the price of good bespoke shoes from France or Britain, one could buy several riding mowers or professional-quality electric guitars.) To prove his point, Herrenschuhe nach Maß features at intervals profiles with various Mitteleuropaische burghers of different ages and profession who patronize the different custom shoemakers of Central Europe, such as Leonard Kahlcke of Frankfurt or Benjamin Klemann. Herrenschuhe nach Maß gives those shoemakers’ coordinates, alongside those of more famous makers from other parts of the world, in a directory at the end of the book.

Reading Herrenschuhe nach Maß reminded me of the dictum of another pre-Internet writer, Umberto Eco, that one could tell one was watching pornography if every non-pornographic action took far too dutifully, laboriously long. Hugo Jacomet’s book, instead, shows us what the Internet has done to porn. Gone are the rationalizations, narrative, and buildup, gone the persuasive lead-ins that attempt to convince us things are happening in some sort of reality. Instead is the immediate, unreal satisfaction of oversize, lasciviously contoured examples of human creation… and, I confess, I love his book for it, the more so as in six months of confinement I have worn a non-sneaker shoe once.

Souliers d’Exception is a set of photographs of mostly bespoke shoes grouped by their makers, although the makers themselves receive only an exiguous page of text and a few lines on their putative house styles each. Knowing that today’s reader wishes to instantly passer à l’acte, that silken prose is the flimsiest of pretexts for beautiful images of each maker’s finest custom samples, all taken especially for the book and thus not available online. Lobb Paris, Aubercy and Berluti all feature here only with their bespoke creations, far more interesting than their ready-to-wear, as well as what are other household names of custom shoemaking, such as Cleverley, along with many others that are less well known. Neither the photos nor their textual lingerie hint at the troubling issues customers who are not celebrities may encounter with certain of the makers featured, nor can the reader expect a comparison of how well a particular shoemaker may actually be able to fit a customer, no matter how beautiful his samples. We have a pure escapism of surfaces, items that, though rendered in such excruciating detail we can see all the stitches if not pores, our own appendages will never actually encounter and thus will never risk disappointment or the pain of long, disillusioning wear. I confess that out of the two, this is the book I’ve turned to again, less out of my prurient analogy than simply because, today, it is perhaps more illusory to believe that a lover of custom shoes wishes to see how they are made, or to believe that they are accessible, and that a world in which they are worn for any reason is accessible. We, or I, simply want to see something beautiful, even if currently irrelevant, for taking out of ourselves. Hugo, thank you.

#rjman #reginaldjeromedemans

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tearsofthemis · 4 years ago

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Tears of Themis : Chapter 1 “Social Snobbery” Part 12

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

youtube

▌Location- QingPing Restaurant, First Floor

MC: “Mr. Fang, you…”

(Fang Yuan’s sudden admission that he was the one who broke the security camera was far from what Xia Yan and I anticipated.)

Xia Yan: “Mr, Fang, is it safe to assume that you were already aware that this food poisoning incident was intentional? The culprit at hand is Lu HaiYang.”

(Fang Yuan quietly sat down at the table.)

Xue XinRan: “Grandpa Fang… It’s been so long, why are you still protecting that ungrateful scumbag! Like the saying goes, ‘give him an inch and he’ll take a mile’, you’re too kind to him and now he’s taking advantage of it!”

Xia Yan: “Miss Xue, what did Mr. Fang tell you?”

(XinRan turned to Fang Yuan silently, bit her lip and turned away angrily. Fang Yuan sighed, but it was clear that he had no intention to tell us more. His reluctance to open up to us made me think of the family portrait I found on his bookshelf, and the photo of Lu HaiYang behind it.)

MC: (That’s right, it was Lu HaiYang! The boy in the photo resembles Lu HaiYang! Is this the reason as to why Mr. Fang would rather shoulder the blame?)

MC: “Pardon me for asking, Mr. Fang, but we found your family photo on the bookshelf, and a photo of Lu HaiYang was behind it… Are you willing to shoulder the blame just because Lu HaiYang looks like your son?”

(Fang Yuan looked at me in shock, then sighed.)

Fang Yuan: “How did you know…”

(I retrieved the photo frame from the bookshelf and passed it to Fang Yuan.)

MC: “The boy in the photograph… is he your son?”

Fang Yuan: “That’s right... Fang Xuan was our only son.”

MC: “Where is he now…”

Fang Yuan: “Twenty-seven years ago when he had just turned eighteen, he was accepted to his first choice university and begged us to let him go backpacking alone to celebrate. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion for him, but who could have known that the tour bus would get into an accident as it was rounding a tight mountain bed, and he would never came back home… QingPing and I decided to sponsor students, partially in memory of our late son. We wanted to reward all the hardworking students who achieve their dreams of going to university, almost as though they can go on in place of Fang Xuan. Unfortunately, QingPing fell ill from the shock of losing her son. Who would’ve known that two years later, she would leave me as well…”

MC: “My condolences, Mr. Fang…”

Fang Yuan: “QingPing loved to cook, and she left behind her recipes. I quit my day job and opened this restaurant in hopes that more and more people would come to love her cooking as well. HaiYang was originally one of my employees, he wanted to work part-time and prepare for university. I would often see him hang back and study in the restaurant when we closed for the day, he was hardworking like Fang Xuan in that regard. Naturally, I wanted to help him, to take away some of his financial burdens. I won’t lie and say that I don’t have a soft spot for him compared to all the other students I’ve sponsored in the past.”

Xia Yan: “Lu HaiYang was a righteous and studious kid back then, wasn’t he.”

Fang Yuan: “Of course. HaiYang would never sabotage me and intentionally poison others, he was forced to by that corrupt company!”

MC: “MeiWeiKa forced his hand? How do you know that for sure?”

Fang Yuan: “It all started when he was hired by the company a year ago.”

~~~Flashback~~~

Lu HaiYang: “Grandpa Fang, y-you gotta help me, they’re going to fire me…”

Fang Yuan: “How did this happen to you, my boy?”

(Lu HaiYang knelt in front of Fang Yuan and sobbed. His face was swollen, and purple bruises were starting to form under his eye. Someone had beaten him up.)

Fang Yuan: “Get up, get up. Who did this to you, I’m going to call the police!”

Lu HaiYang: “W-wait! Don’t call the police, I.. I did this to myself.”

Fang Yuan: “You… hit yourself!? W-well why would you…”

Lu HaiYang: “I couldn’t reach the sales quota the company set for me by five hundred thousand dollars. As my punishment, I had to hit myself fifty times in front of the whole department. The company said it was meant to be a lesson. If I didn’t hit myself hard enough, they would cut my salary under the pretense of not rectifying my wrongs, and not striving for improvement.”

Fang Yuan: “How outlandish! What your company did to you… is against the law! Go and resign, HaiYang. We have to take them to court!”

Lu HaiYang: “I can’t do that, Grandpa Fang! You don’t understand just how hard it is to find a job, especially after I’ve just graduated. I have to start from somewhere and climb my way up to the top. I didn’t stay long at other companies. If I resign now, no one will want me as an employee! I don’t want to move back home, back to the shoddy village farms, I want to stay in Stellis City… “

~~~Flashback ends~~~

MC: “MeiWeiKa company has committed severe crimes, he should have listened to you and resigned so he could pursue legal action!”

Fang Yuan: “HaiYang was scared to be homeless, his drive to provide a better future for himself is understandable. I was scared at the time when he showed up in that sorry state, so I caved and agreed to help him with what I could. He asked me to purchase MeiWeiKa’s membership at a price of two thousand dollars a month. I agreed.”

Xia Yan: “That was the beginning of the end, right? Lu HaiYang kept on pressing you to buy add-on services, like that VIP membership.”

Fang Yuan: “That’s right. MeiWeiKa’s VIP membership costs thirty thousand per month, it’s more on top of that if you want advertising space on their app. There was no way I could afford it. After I refused to upgrade my membership, work pressure began to build on HaiYang. Since then, he has become twisted and unscrupulous. MeiWeiKa is the root of all our problems, falsifying bad reviews and hiring idle-men to harass and cause trouble for us restaurant owners. The restaurant next door has experienced similar treatment.”

MC: “Have you guys considered filing a class action lawsuit?”

Fang Yuan: “We don’t have any evidence… or the kind of influence that MeiWeiKa has. Everyone online would side with the company, I could do nothing about it except watch as LuYang followed their lead and became one of their lackeys. Actually, since the health department gave their verdict, I already knew that HaiYang was the one who sabotaged the water supply. But…”

Xia Yan: “That’s why you hosed down the water container, and swept the restaurant meticulously of any pesticides, and broke your own security camera… all to protect Lu HaiYang. If you are this certain, then our culprit is the man himself?”

Fang Yuan: “W-well I-”

Xue XinRan: “Grandpa Fang! If you let this slide, the restaurant will be filed as a health hazard, and the restaurant will have to shut down! Then no one will ever get to taste Grandma Fang’s recipes ever again…”

Fang Yuan: “I don’t want to stay quiet to the injustice I faced, but I don’t want HaiYang to go to jail. He’s still young and has his whole life ahead of him, he’s only made a couple bad decisions. But if he’s incarcerated, his life might as well be as good as over!”

Xia Yan: “But Mr. Fang, this lawsuit could be the push Lu HaiYang needs to be set on the right path again, won’t it be beneficial for everyone if MeiWeiKa is punished by the law for what they’ve done? Lu HaiYang forced to sabotage QingPing Restaurant, could be the first of many spearheads that’ll expose MeiWeiKa’s unethical business practices, as long as Lu HaiYang could turn around and testify…”

Fang Yuan: “You don’t understand, young man! I’ve definitely thought of convincing Lu HaiYang, but that company isn’t one that I can anger!”

MC: “But sir, you’ve never asked us to stop our investigation today. Aren’t you at least a bit hopeful that perhaps we can help? As long as Lu HaiYang is willing to cooperate with us, I can defend him against the prosecutors…”

Fang Yuan: “Young lady, you’re a lawyer aren’t you? I’ve already guessed as such. You must have concealed your identity because XinRan told you that I’m not fond of lawyers, right…”

(I hadn’t even realized that I had let it slip!)

MC: “I apologize, Mr. Fang…”

Fang Yuan: “Actually, I’m not against hiring a lawyer, I was only afraid that lawyers would prosecute HaiYang... I thought that if I tidied up the restaurant, your investigation would be futile. XinRan would give up the case, and perhaps I would pay less for the settlement; it would be a good thing. But I underestimated your abilities, and I underestimated XinRan’s perseverance. When we were upstairs just now, I told XinRan everything that I have just told you both, she tried to convince me to speak with you. I understand that you have good intentions of helping me, but I cannot give up HaiYang’s future so… my decision is that I will not hire lawyers for the trial. I thank you for your time and your service.” (Just as Fang Yuan dismissed us, he turned to head up the stairs once again. I wanted to plead with him and say something - anything that would get him to change his mind. As I opened my mouth, the restaurant’s door opened. Who would come to the restaurant at a time like this? I turned towards the door... It was Lu HaiYang.)

-------

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

——-

《CREDIT》 Translator & Editor: @humi-and-co 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.

《 VOICE ACTORS 》 Xia Yan | Jin Xian: https://weibo.com/riceranger Lu HaiYang | Zhang Pei: https://weibo.com/u/1937059462 Xue XinRan | V17-Su Wan: https://weibo.com/u/2925530143 Fang Yuan | Zhao Yang

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #otome #未定事件簿 #夏彦 #tears of themis xia yan #tears of themis trans #xia yan

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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 5 years ago

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When most people hear the name, “Veronica Lake” usually one of three things comes to mind – that incredible peek-a-boo hair, the Film Noir’s with Alan Ladd or possibly Kim Basigner playing a Miss Lake lookalike in L.A. Confidential (1997) – fun fact, she won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for that role. Although, with Veronica’s heyday being well over half a century old, that’s sadly usually as far as it goes.

However, with the Classic Hollywood Era being hugely timeless and forever coming back into fashion, the genre is becoming less of a niché subject and more Stars are on the public radar. If you’re a long time Vintage Lover like myself, you’ll be aware that unfortunately, a lot of our favourites don’t have many books written about them, or if they do, they’ve been out of print for a number of years and can be hard to find, or very expensive. Therefore, when I came across the news that Dean Street Press were publishing a reprint of Veronica’s Autobiography, which was first released in 1969, I was absolutely ecstatic! As most who know me are probably aware of my love for Blonde Bombshells, it may not be as well known that Veronica is my other favourite, after Marilyn.

There have only been two books published on Veronica, which I must add, astounds me – and one of them is this one which was co-written by ghost writer Donald Bain, who sadly passed away in October of 2017. The other is by Jeff Lenburg and I am fortunate enough to have both. However, Lenburg’s book is fairly controversial as he takes a lot of his information from Veronica’s mother, who claims a lot of detrimental things about her daughter – yet was estranged from her for many, many years. I think it’s actually being reprinted this summer and I will read it again, but would definitely advise new fans to stick to Veronica’s own words.

The republished version of Veronica’s Autobiography features a new cover with a stunning publicity photo of her in Ramrod (1947) which was directed by her then Husband, André de Toth. The book is a shiny paperback, with a non crease format, so even when you’ve finished reading, it will be in great condition and can take pride of place on your bookshelf! At 215 pages and 27 chapters, it’s not a huge length, but definitely a substantial read and full of personal anecdotes from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

Broadcaster and writer, Eddie Muller adds a new Introduction and his following words really stuck with me, their relevancy still to this day does not go unnoticed,

“I’ll point out instead that while the public has granted Sterling Hayden, a legendary boozer and hash-head, a legacy as a heroic, larger-than-life iconoclast, it has branded Lake’s life after Hollywood a steady downward spiral of abasement, worthy of only pity. Blame a cultural double standard that applauds reckless rebellion in men but shames it in women.”

As the chapters do not have titles, I’ve decided to write down a snippet of information which sums up the pivotal points and various timelines in each section.

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1:

– Starts in 1938 and traces Veronica’s move to Hollywood with her mother, step-father and cousin on the 4th of July. Veronica enrolls in the Bliss Hayden School of Acting and has her first role in a movie as an extra in RKO’s Sorority House (1939).

Chapter 2:

– Veronica’s signature peek-a-boo hairstyle is unintentionally created on the set of Forty Little Mothers (1940) by Director, Busby Berkeley who stated, “I still say let it fall. It distinguishes her from the rest”.

Chapter 3:

– Director, Freddie Wilcox sets up Veronica’s first Screen Test, whilst at home her step-father suffers a collapsed lung.

Chapter 4:

– Veronica joins the iconic William Morris Agency and recounts her knowledge of the infamous Hollywood Casting Couch and how she turned away from the many advances.

Chapter 5:

– Veronica meets her first husband, John Detlie and has her named changed by Producer, Arthur Hornblow Jr., who, after a second Screen Test, decides to cast her as Sally Vaughn in her breakout movie, I Wanted Wings (1941).

Chapter 6:

– Focuses on the location filming of I Wanted Wings (1941) from August 26th 1940 in San Antonio, Texas.

Chapter 7:

– Continues filming in Hollywood for I Wanted Wings (1941) and elopes to marry her first husband, John Detlie.

Chapter 8:

– Veronica discusses the first 8 years of her childhood and her move to Florida in her teen years and the two schools she attended in Montreal and Miami.

Chapter 9:

– Recounts various appearances in Miami Beauty Pageants as a teenager.

Chapter 10:

– Returns to 1941 with the release of I Wanted Wings (1941) and focuses on the worldwide phenomenon of the famous hair. Also finishes with Director Preston Sturges hiring Veronica for the role of The Girl in Sullivan’s Travels (1941).

Chapter 11:

Veronica shares the news of her first pregnancy with her mother and how her third trimester would coincide with the physical demands of filming Sullivan’s Travels (1941).

Chapter 12:

– Covers the filming of Sullivan’s Travels (1941) from May 12th 1941 and the revelation of Veronica’s pregnancy. It’s simply incredible when watching the film all these years later to come to the realization that she was between six to eight months pregnant!

Chapter 13: – The filming of This Gun For Hire (1942) and The Glass Key (1942).

Chapter 14:

– The filming of I Married A Witch (1942), So Proudly We Hail! (1943) and The Hour Before The Dawn (1944). Veronica also discusses the deterioration of her marriage and the tragic loss of her second baby, Anthony, who died a week after being born two months prematurely.

Chapter 15:

– Veronica divorces John and retells various anecdotes of the Hollywood Lifestyle in it’s heyday in the 1940s.

Chapter 16:

– Veronica discusses the filming of Star Spangled Rhythm (1942) and also her dating history during this period. She shares some fascinating stories of various celebrity anecdotes which include such Stars as, Errol Flynn, Katharine Hepburn, Howard Hughes and Gary Cooper.

Chapter 17:

– The filming of Bring On The Girls (1945), Duffy’s Tavern (1946) and Hold That Blonde! (1945). Veronica recalls marrying her second husband, Andre de Toth and shares a moving story from her visit to The White House in January 1945.

Chapter 18:

– The filming of Miss Susie Slagles (1946), Out Of This World (1945), Ramrod (1946), The Blue Dahlia (1946), Saigon (1947) and The Sainted Sisters (1948). Veronica and Andre expand their family as she has her third baby, a boy named Michael. She also talks about her and Andre obtaining their Pilot Licenses and how the death of her step-dad deeply affected her.

Chapter 19:

– Features a highly entertaining story of Veronica flying her plane, whilst carrying her forth child, in her fifth month of pregnancy. With her on board is her secretary Marge, who up until then had never flown before.

Chapter 20:

– Veronica gives birth to her forth baby, a girl named Diana and talks about the turmoil of her relationship with her mother, who decided to sue her for, “lack of filial love and responsibility” and over $17,000.

Chapter 21:

– The filming of Slattery’s Hurricane (1949) and Stronghold (1951). Veronica discusses her frustration with Andre’s prolific spending, which results in them filing for bankruptcy and ultimately, the deterioration of their marriage.

Chapter 22:

– Veronica moves to New York in 1951 and continues her acting career through various television appearances and the stage. She enters her third marriage to husband, Joe McCarthy, which she admits was volatile from the start and they divorce after just four years, in September 1959.

Chapter 23:

– Covers the years 1959 through to 1961. Veronica discusses her time taking a job as a cocktail waitress – which contrary to popular belief, she actually quite enjoyed. She also talks about the traumatic accident which resulted in a severely broken ankle, which caused her inability to act for two years.

Chapter 24:

– Delves into her relationship with Andy Elickson, a Merchant Seaman, who she met during her time working in the Martha Washington Hotel and focuses on the period between 1961 and 1966. She also writes about a high note in her stage career; appearing in Best Foot Forward in 1963.

Chapter 25:

– Veronica discusses her move to Miami from New York in 1966.

Chapter 26:

– The filming of Footsteps In The Snow (1966) and Flesh Feast (1970) which was then known as Time Is Terror and was originally shot in 1967.

Chapter 27:

– Ends in October 1967 with Veronica discussing her reading performance of The World of Carl Sandburg, which she describes as one of the, “finest moments” of her life.

______________________________________________________________________________

Veronica’s words are full of honesty, she does not sugar-coat her flaws and her anecdotes convey a great sense of humbleness towards her career and lots of self criticism to her talent, the latter which saddens me. I’ve noticed many of the great Stars rarely seem to have any belief in themselves. If only they could see how loved and appreciated they truly are. However, her loyalty and generosity towards her close friends and even acquaintances does not go unnoticed. It’s refreshing to see her be able to share her own story, without various opinions and conspiracies that have grown over the years being included.

Overall, there’s only two downsides that springs to mind. Firstly, as the book was originally published in 1969 and finishes at the end of 1967, we’re missing the six final years of her fascinating life and tragically nothing can be done to change this. Of course no one is at fault, it’s just a shame that those last years will remain mostly a mystery to us. It would have been wonderful to read about her time in England. Lastly, in the original edition, a number of pages featured very rare photos of Veronica throughout her years, including her own comments. Sadly, only a small version of the cover photo reappears at the end of the newly republished book. I’m assuming this is down to cost and or copyright, but it would be nice to see these rare treasures reappear in the latest edition for fans that are not fortunate enough to also own an original copy.

Ultimately, Veronica always maintains her true self and comes across as not a Screen Icon, but just like one of us – albeit with some extraordinary Hollywood stories. She’s simply, and I mean this in the most complimentary way – a human being. It’s been almost a decade since I discovered Veronica, eight years in fact and I for one have not only became even more endeared to Miss Lake, but, I have also developed a warm space in my heart for my fellow 5’2″ little lady, Miss Connie/Ronni Keane.

Lastly, a huge thank you to Dean Street Press for believing in the popularity of Veronica and so wonderfully reprinting hers and Donald Bain’s special words for us all to enjoy.

For anyone who wants to see more of Veronica, I’ve amassed a fairly large archive of photos over the years which can be viewed on my blog devoted entirely to her; missveronicalakes.

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Veronica: The Autobiography of Veronica Lake; Book Review. When most people hear the name, "Veronica Lake" usually one of three things comes to mind - …

#1940s #1950s #1960s #autobiography #blonde bombshell #book review #classic hollywood #constance keane #donald bain #femme fatale #icon #legend #old hollywood #peek-a-boo blonde #veronica lake #vintage

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seagreen-meets-grey · 5 years ago

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When Lightning Strikes Ch. 8

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

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Her parents weren’t home when Astrid arrived. Letting herself in through the backdoor, she scanned the place, grabbed a handful of chocolate chips from the living room table and trudged up the stairs to her old bedroom that now served as a guest room.

The sheets were clean and not a single wrinkle dared to disturb the still sea of cream-colored linen. She felt like she just walked into one of the catalogues her mother had stacked in the giant, neat bookshelf downstairs. The only thing missing was the overly enthusiastic model having the time of her life feeling the fabric, and the book and glass of water decorating the nightstand to give a domestic impression. Looking around, Astrid found only the fine layer of dust on all surfaces betraying the perfect picture.

She dropped her duffle bag onto the tidy floor and let herself flop onto the mattress. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the detergent; the same one her mother had been using for as long as she remembered. Suddenly, she felt fifteen again, but in a room where no sports clothes and equipment littered the floor, the desk wasn’t covered in books and school supplies, and the walls weren’t decorated with pictures of friends and family and her rigorous, color-coded life plan.

Most of the photos now hung in her own living room, in-between several new ones, her wedding picture framed in the middle. The giant poster of her life plan was collecting dust amidst old furniture and boxes stuffed with her old toys in the basement two stories below. It wasn’t like that thing had worked out, anyway. Be the manager of an elite swim team at thirty? She still had a few years to go, but considering how she’d been training the same team of kids for a while now, that goal didn’t seem very realistic.

Not that that wasn’t the only part of the plan, which she’d designed way back in middle school, that hadn’t gone as she’d once been sure it would. The plan had considered boyfriends during her years of building her career, but no marriage and kids until she had the position she wanted. When Eret had proposed to her years before she’d even come close to that goal, and she’d said yes, she’d practically blown the whole plan to bits. And with everything else unexpected that had happened to her around the same time, she’d realized she couldn’t meticulously plan her whole life.

She pushed memories of that brief period away by jumping up and connecting her phone to her old stereo. To loud music, she danced through her room with a rag and a bottle of cleanser, singing and polishing every surface and every corner to the beat.

When she was done, she moved the party downstairs and set the table for dinner. In the past year and a half of being a wife, she’d jokingly donned an apron once a week and put her hair in an old-fashioned bun, waving a spatula around and putting on the act of a housewife from the fifties, much to her husband’s amusement. But both of them knew she only did this so she could practice her cooking skills, because she was too proud to admit that she didn’t have any.

Which was why there were pots of gratinated cauliflower, potatoes, and corned beef on the table when first her mother’s, then her father’s car appeared in the driveway. The meat had ended up too dry, but that’s why she’d prepared enough sauce in wise foresight. All in all, she was very proud of her achievement.

Her parents did a double-take when they came in and followed the clang of dishes into the kitchen where their daughter was washing pots and pans, surrounded by an utter chaos of cooking ingredients and supplies.

“Surprise,” Astrid grinned at their baffled reactions.

“I knew that was your car outside. What are you doing here?” her father asked. “Not that we’re not happy to see you, but you haven’t been to Berk in months.”

Her mother hung her jacket in the hallway and put her keys in the key holder under the cupboard with the spices, taking in the sight before her. “Did you cook?!”

“You don’t have to act so incredulous.” Upon both her parents’ raised eyebrows, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I made dinner and it’s not poisoned. Now would you please eat it before it gets cold?”

Drying her hands on her apron, she took it off and joined her curious parents at the table, ignoring their slightly doubtful expressions when they eyed the food.

She took a bite of potato and reached the same conclusion as her mother. “Way too much salt,” Wilma commented, scrunching her nose. “But the sauce is delicious.”

Although she didn’t like to hear it sometimes, Astrid had always appreciated her mom’s honest criticism. It’s how she knew what she could do and what needed to be better. There was no talking around bullshit in the Hofferson house.

Which was why she held her chin up high and sat upright, conveying the notion of confidence and an abundance of shameful failure that she had to hide, while they all bravely put more sauce on their food. She celebrated her small victory when every pot was clean and every stomach full.

“Are you staying the night?” her father asked, scraping the last bit of under-salted cauliflower from his plate.

“Actually, I’m gonna stay a bit longer.” She immediately felt two pairs of eyes set on her face as she started collecting plates and cutlery. Unperturbed, she looked up and shrugged. “Eret’s on a convention for two weeks and I didn’t want to sit alone at home all day. And since you keep asking me to visit more, I thought I’d swing by for a while.”

“Since when are you sitting at home all day?” her father asked. “Don’t they have any dogs to train at the moment?”

The long answer would have been that ever since the Breakneck Adventure Park over in Bog had opened and the Raven Point Zoo had had a series of vandalism cases, the popularity and financial situation of RPZ had forced every department to cut salaries, even over in the attached dog obedience school Astrid worked at. Either a whole lot of people needed to get a dog that they needed help with training really soon, or their PR team had to come up with a better solution.

She settled for the short answer. “Not really.”

Her father looked like he wanted to discuss her occupational situation further, but she really didn’t want to get into it at the moment. She missed the dogs. Talking about her issues wasn’t what she came here for; it was rather the opposite. She wanted to distract herself, push away everything she seemed to be failing at.

“Do we have cake?” She opened the fridge and a few cupboards, coming up empty.

Her mother shook her head. “There’s ice cream in the freezer.”

Astrid made a half-hearted attempt at checking, but she didn’t really want ice cream. Ice cream was for summer days and break-ups, and neither the former nor the latter applied to her right now. If she wanted to overstuff herself and quiet the craving she’d had since last night, she needed cake. And if there was none in the house, she would find a way to get her hands on it somehow. With a determined nod, she set her agenda for the next day.

She slept until noon, went shopping for ingredients, and looked up the easiest cake recipe she could find; one even she couldn’t mess up. It ended up a little too crispy anyway.

Trying not to think of what Eret might be doing or not doing at any given moment, she flipped through every magazine her mother had during the next three days, even the catalogues. Still asleep when her parents went to work, they usually found her lounging on the couch when they came back, or dozing in the hammock in the garden.

Her mother asked her about Eret at least twice a day and Astrid quickly grew tired of telling her that he was doing fine. She knew what her mom wanted to hear from her, but she wasn’t going to open up that can while she was browsing through the latest IKEA catalogue for the fifth time as if it was the most fulfilling activity in the world.

On her fifth day back at her parents’ house, she went into battle with the kitchen again and baked three cakes – the first one ended up too dry, the second was perfect except that she forgot to add sugar, and the chocolate cream she added to the third was way too sweet. She ate the whole thing that night and regretted it in the morning when she woke up feeling sick and frustrated.

Pushing away any stupid upcoming worries related to sickness in the morning, she finally decided to leave the house. If everything she’d left at her own house was catching up to her at her island of refuge, she wanted to do nothing else than run. Channel everything into her muscles, kick at the ground with every step, show the world that this was something she could do perfectly.

She got up and opened the window, then got dressed while the fresh air cleared her head and chased away the queasiness. After she splashed cold water in her face, she already felt much better.

When she came downstairs, her parents were sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper, the radio playing the usual morning program in the background. Surprised that she was up so early on a Saturday compared to the past days, they eyed her running gear while she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“Aren’t you going to sit with us?” her mother asked.

Astrid shook her head and chugged down the juice. “I’ve been neglecting my training. I have to catch up.” She knew that her mother wouldn’t object to that. And it wasn’t as if she was lying; she did need to train more, especially now that the swimming hall was closed for renovations and her assistant had taken over training the kids at the place that belonged to that damned theme park in Bog. Heaven forbid she betrayed her principles and supported that place in any way, shape or form. But if she sat down now, she might have to listen to her mother asking her about her home life once again.

“But tonight we’re going out for dinner, okay?” her father shouted after her when she’d already grabbed a banana and was halfway out the front door.

“Sure!” she yelled back and then she was gone.

She ate her banana and stretched on the lawn before she put the peel in the trash and fell into a brisk pace, heading down the street. Running felt invigorating, like throwing off a heavy coat and allowing her cells to be injected with life again.

A soft morning breeze caressed her skin and the beams of the May sun on her back promised another warm day, even though the browning leaves in the front gardens she passed were screaming for it to rain.

The whole city was in bloom. Streets were glowing in white, pink and lavender, rich greens adorned the trees, petals and pollen were flying through the air, and Astrid was glad she didn’t have any allergies. A particularly beautiful patch of blue, orange and yellow flowers made her slow down for a moment, listening to the bumblebees buzzing around the vibrant colors. Breathing in the pleasant fragrance, she continued down a narrow path towards the park.

She hadn’t bothered to bring her phone and headphones, taking in the performances of various arias pleasantly filling her ears from every direction. A family of ducks crossed her path at the entrance of the park, heading for the lake that stretched through the whole park like a still river. The water was glistening in the sun, its smooth surface disrupted by water birds going about their morning activities and various insects dancing at the top. Plenty of people were already out and about, runners like her, people with their dogs, a few families. A young couple with a child in a stroller caught her eye and she ran faster.

Concentrating solely on the road and the rhythm of her feet and breath, she shut out everything else, as if she were wearing blinders. She counted to ten, sprinted, slowed down, started anew, until her lungs began to burn and her feet were stomping harder on the gravel.

Life was good. Despite her payment cuts, her mostly self-imposed lack of exercise, and what happened last weekend at home, she was okay. A failure wasn’t a failure if she could overcome it. It was just a minor hiccup on the road… Ha.

One and a half years later and even the word made her stomach drop. She was back in Berk, not just in the outskirts to get to Raven Point for work, to the swimming hall for training, or to her parents’ house for one afternoon. If she didn’t want to return to a quiet house where she would anxiously wait for her husband’s return, she would have to get over her paranoia that she could run into the one person in all of Berk she didn’t want to see. Or rather couldn’t allow herself to see.

One and a half years and he was still on her mind. Not every day, sometimes not even for weeks, but he was like that annoying mosquito in her bedroom that, no matter how often she killed it, always respawned the next night. Perhaps if she kept comparing him to obnoxious, bloodsucking insects, her feelings about him would finally change.

She should have brought music. Then she could have just turned up the volume of the most energetic songs she had on her phone and drowned out every thought. Although the rush of running had shaken the layer of lazy languor from her limbs, she’d opened the corner of her mind that she’d successfully blocked with ignorance up until now.

She started counting her steps, just to have something to focus on in order to keep her mind from spiraling.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

She was at forty-nine when she evaded an old couple on their bicycles, and an ice cream cart on the other side of the lawn caught her eye.

It wasn’t so much the cart that made her heart stop out of the blue, without any preamble. It was the tall figure waiting in line, it was the auburn hair burning on his head like fire in the sun, it was the magnetism that instantly made her recognize him by pulling at her soul like the moon pulled at the ocean.

She tripped and caught herself on the next best thing, which happened to be a young man with dark hair and a dog leash hanging around his neck like the world’s longest, ugliest open tie.

“Whoa, there!” The guy put a hand on her arm, a flirty grin on his face. “No need to fall for me, although I understand why you might.”

Momentarily confused, she blinked at him flexing his bicep and unabashedly checking her out. “What?”

He winked. “You should come to the gym with me some time to work out, you look like you work out.”

“What?” she repeated, her brain only slowly catching up to the situation. Her head turned by itself, seeking out the ice cream cart, but there was only a kid delicately balancing two huge cones with ice cream running down his fingers. She blinked. Had she only imagined – no. There he was, a few paces to the left, coming towards her. Coming towards her.

She completely froze, her line of sight pinned to his face, ears deaf to the lame pickup lines still coming out of the guy’s mouth like a waterfall. Then he looked her way, and the moment blue eyes locked onto green, she was transported back to Dagur’s party where she’d felt like a bolt of lightning had shot straight through her.

He stopped short and stared with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, face white as linen. Time slowed down, an eternity of mere seconds passed, the universe narrowing down to its only two inhabitants.

“Hey, are you alright?”

The guy’s voice yanked her back to planet Earth and she realized she was still holding onto his shoulder, spacing out in the middle of the path like an idiot. Her heart started to beat again at full capacity and she remembered how to fill her lungs with oxygen.

“I… sorry,” she stammered and bolted, lightning fueling her, and she sprinted and sprinted, away from the green emeralds boring into her back. Out of sight, out of mind, until she had used up all of her adrenaline and her legs gave out underneath her.

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Hiccup’s understanding of space and time momentarily vanished. Gravity was an illusion. Down was up and up was down. Were dragons real? Words had no meaning. Tuna was a lie. A frying pan was a kind of bird. Colors tasted like witchcraft. The eyes of Astrid Hofferson were even more captivating than he remembered.

He was certain only that last one was true. It was a mystery to him how his heart was still beating. He didn’t register the ice cream escaping his grasp and painting a trail down his jeans onto his shoes. He was too occupied staring after the blonde ponytail swinging on her back, shorter than he remembered, as her frame became smaller and smaller until she rounded a corner and was but a fading melody riding the waves of the aftershocks she caused to his heart and soul.

“Dude, people are staring!”

Hiccup blinked a few times before shaking the haze off his brain and following the source of the complaint to the man in front of him.

“Did you shit your pants or something? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Checking just to be sure, he shook his head. No, he did not shit his pants. He wasn’t so sure about seeing a ghost, though. With an awkward cough, he returned to reality and frowned at the sticky stains on his clothes. Typical.

“Who– who were you just talking to?” he carefully asked his old friend, hoping desperately he hadn’t imagined her.

Snotlout’s face changed from embarrassed to overconfident in the blink of an eye. “That hot chick over there?” With his thumb, he pointed over his shoulder in the direction she had just disappeared to. “Yeah, she totally digs me. Wouldn’t admit it, but she did.”

“Did she tell you her name?”

“Psh, Hiccup, my man. Names are for second dates only.”

Hiccup raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Let me guess, she didn’t even talk to you and only accidentally bumped into you?”

Snotlout opened his mouth, closed it, then turned and whistled for his dog.

“Thought so,” he mumbled and followed Snotlout to where the man’s dog was pulling so hard on its leash it wasn’t exactly clear who was the master of whom. Before they made their way back to Snot’s apartment, Hiccup looked back once more, as if the remaining ghost of her presence would show itself and talk to him. But she was long gone.

On their way back into the city, Hiccup barely said a thing, still miles away. But it wasn’t like he was needed to fill the air with conversation since Snotlout was talking nonstop. Hiccup managed a comment here and there, but if he’d been asked what they’d been talking about when they reached the apartment, he would have been unable to answer.

The inside of the apartment was, to his nonexistent surprise, a mess. Dog toys and barbells were lying everywhere, one side of the rundown couch was full of dog hair, and it smelled of bacon and sweat. But what struck Hiccup the most was the nearly bald fir tree in the corner. Dry needles covered the ground and mismatched baubles and an assortment of cheap wooden decorations were desperately clinging to the twigs like a last lifeline.

“Really? Still?” he asked while Snotlout put dog food in a bowl. “I thought you wanted to throw that thing away weeks ago.”

Snotlout shrugged. “Eh. Didn’t seem worth the effort. It’s almost Christmas soon again, anyway.”

“It’s May, Snot.”

“So? As soon as I buy a new one, I just have to put the balls from one tree to the other. No need to cram everything back on the shelf.” He opened a can of coke and flopped onto the clean end of the couch.

With a defeated sigh, Hiccup decided to free the tree from its misery and started with taking off the wooden stars. In the background, Snotlout was scrolling through his phone and slurping his coke.

“Snot.”

“What?”

“At least bring me the boxes these go in.”

He heard a series of groans and shuffling, a few choice swear words, then an armful of cartons were unceremoniously dropped next to him and the slurping started anew. Sometimes, Hiccup wondered why they were friends. But some bonds just seemed to miraculously never break.

His mind wandered to the park again, to the blonde ponytail highlighted by the sun, to the two blue orbs circling his thoughts ever since. He was electrified in such a familiar way, his heart speeding up again at the mere memory of her frozen face as she stared back at him.

“I think it was Astrid,” he blurted out, for fear he would burst if he didn’t voice it.

The slurping stopped. “Who?”

“The girl from earlier. The one you probably drove off with your obnoxious flirting.”

Snotlout was quiet for a moment. “Am I really that awful?”

Hiccup had to smile despite himself. That was why he was still friends with Snotlout Jorgenson. Because as irritable and annoying and full of himself he was most of the time, underneath all that there was a boy who actually cared. Cared what women thought of him, what his father thought of him, even what Hiccup thought of him. It was rare that he showed his vulnerable side and Hiccup always made sure not to tease him about his honesty, aware of the trust his friend put in him.

“Depends on what you said this time. Maybe stop diving in full force every time a woman so much as glances at you. Usually, they don’t like that.”

The slurping continued, followed by a loud belch. “I can’t believe I’m taking advice from you. You’re not exactly the king of the ladies. And if that in the park was Astrid, then I can’t even begin to tell you how far out of her league you are.”

Hiccup didn’t need to be told that. He’d always known that she was unattainable for him, just not for the reason Snotlout thought. There’d been a connection between them, and if he’d considered it only a hopeful fragment of his imagination at first, he’d definitely felt it the last time he’d seen her.

“Jingle bells, Hiccup smells, Astrid ran away. She will never love you back and Snotlout is the king!”

“That’s not what happened.” Hiccup regretted telling him about her. In his defense, though, that had been after Snot had put extra rum in his tea during the Christmas party thrown by the neighborhood they’d grown up in together. And if the woman from the park had indeed been her, then he refused to believe that she’d run away. General running, that’s what she’d been doing. The athletic kind.

“Jingle bells, Astrid smells, Hiccup ran away. He is such an idiot and Snotlout is the king!”

“She doesn’t smell,” Hiccup mumbled, overwhelmed by the sudden memory of her flowery scent when he’d stood so close to her under the canopy. When he’d come to her wedding in an attempt to make peace with the fact that they could never be together. Because he’d been too late; because it wouldn’t have mattered. She loved another man that she would spend the rest of her life with, and coming to her wedding day of all times to tell her he wanted to be that man would not have been fair. She’d made her decision and he couldn’t just tell her what to do.

Maybe he really was an idiot.

A part of him wanted to drill Snotlout for details, ask what exactly she’d said, if she’d said anything at all. Ask if she still had a nose speckled with tiny freckles and ask if her eyes still resembled a clear blue summer sky.

But he didn’t. He’d sworn to get over her, and so far, that had worked… Or maybe not, he’d just chosen to ignore it and to tell himself he wasn’t still thinking about her.

“What about Angela?” it came from the couch, accompanied by the metallic crinkling sound of an empty can. “She seemed to like you. Or Crankyhead McPurplepants.”

“You mean Kristy?”

“If she’s the cranky one with the purple pants, then yeah.”

Hiccup shrugged. “None of them worked out.” A few months ago, he’d downloaded a dating app and dived into the world of online dating, only to delete his profile and create a new one every other week in a vicious cycle of loneliness and breakups when none of them could smother the fire for long that she’d started within him. He was completely and utterly hung up on a girl he barely knew and yet felt deep in his heart every time a storm was raging through the sky and bolts of lightning illuminated the night.

And if he spent the majority of the next day on a bench in the park where he’d seen her yesterday, then that was just a coincidence. Because even the prospect of being friends with her seemed impossible, and who was to say he hadn’t merely imagined her? Maybe he’d seen someone who looked a lot like her, maybe even a cousin or some kind of doppelganger designed to torment him.

But she didn’t show up again. His stomach was growling and he felt restless, his right leg jiggling up and down like a bouncy ball on a sugar rush. Who was he kidding, anyway? He was just being pathetic. Giving up with a heavy heart, he left the park and went to the only place in Berk that sold his favorite cheap sandwiches on a Sunday evening.

Entering the main kiosk at Berk Central Station, he headed straight for the fridge, deciding between turkey and tuna, and ending up grabbing both sandwiches. It was only when he turned around that he caught sight of the small corner with the drugstore products.

Her hair was hanging over her shoulder in a slightly messy braid that she kept absentmindedly fiddling with. The jeans she was wearing had a large coffee stain at the side. The letters on her hoodie read Berk Vikings Swim Team and a year in Roman numerals. She was frowning at something on the shelf in front of her.

He blinked once, twice, to make sure it was really her, here, in this very kiosk, at this very moment in time.

Before he could overthink it, he walked up to her and, only hesitating for a few seconds, reached out his hand to touch her shoulder ever so slightly. She winced the same moment he pulled back his hand from the shock that had just rushed through his fingertips at the contact.

She turned around in question and time froze once more.

He swallowed hard. “Hey.”

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fic #how to train your dragon

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starman-john-tracy · 4 years ago

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Radiation Poisoning | Chapter Six

by @starman-john-tracy and @asteria-star

In which John Tracy gets exposed to uranium and nearly dies, The Hood is evil, and Star generally freaks out a lot.

Chapters: [One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Seven]

The landing is a brutal one. Alan slams them down onto the Earth’s surface like he’s trying to squash a bug. It’s hardly his best, but he’s got them home safe. Star isn’t entirely sure that Alan finishes his post-flight checks, judging by how quickly he’s out of his seat.

They have John on his way to the medical bay before Star is out of her own. Her fingers are numb unbuckling herself, one hand taken up by John’s book. There’s medical waste littered in a perimeter of where John had been strapped down, Star stands, staring at it for a moment, all the bits and pieces Scott had brought out to save his life. It's a graveyard, for someone she hopes isn’t dead yet.

There’s something about your feet hitting Earth again after a stint in space, it sends Star to her hands and knees. She doesn’t spend as much time in Zero G as John does, even on Thunderbird Five, but its still enough to send her head spinning, the world still blurring before her. She watches John’s book swim in and out of focus before her eyes, stomach turning… though isn’t entirely convinced that wasn’t happening before.

Climbing to her feet is like moving in a dream, the ground slipping up and out from beneath her. She’s not entirely sure how long she’s wandering, until everything snaps back into loud, desperate focus, at the doorway of the medical bay.

There’s a desperate, rapid bustle of movement happening inside. Wailing alarms and bags of blood being hung and Virgil barking short, sharp commands for Brains to pass him the sterile fluid, to increase the oxygen flow, to hand him a scalpel. John’s burnt face is obscured by the oxygen rig and tilted away from her, but one of his arm’s is hanging loosely off the side of the Gurney, and she can see the limp way his fingers are slightly curled, drugged. There are absorbent pads being laid across John’s waist and taped into place, leaving a long, sterile rectangle of blotchy blood-bruised skin exposed in the middle of them, ready for operation. Virgil is pulling on a paper gown.

“Ah, no.” The little grey head of Grandma Tracy pops up beside her, taking Star by surprise so absorbed she was in the sight of her best friends laid out, pale and limp and swarmed by people trying to save his life. “You shouldn’t be in here dear.” Ruth Tracy takes her arm, ever so gentle, and leads her back out into the corridor. “We’ve got to keep things sterile, and you don’t want to see this. Come sit with Alan, Gordon and Kayo upstairs now,” She advises, soft and warm, “I’ll make you kids a cocoa, and we’ll wait to hear together.”

“No, I-” Star starts to argue before her eyes catch on Virgil’s hunched shoulders, getting ready to- cut John open. He’s busy, he’s saving him, and he wouldn’t want her there anyway. Grandma Tracy is right, she shouldn’t be here. She lets Grandma Tracy lead her stumbling steps back in the direction of the main house. She almost lets the older woman lead her all the way to the living room, before her gravity scrambled brain catches up to the fact that Alan and Gordon and Kayo will all be there too.

“I’ve got to- ah-” she worms her arm out of the surprisingly strong hold, pointing over her shoulder in the general direction of away. “I’ve got to, um… bathroom…” she looks down at herself, what she’s wearing at the blood. “And find some pants. I’ll be right there, okay?”

The sadness in John’s Grandmother’s eyes almost makes Star cry again, but she covers it up with the John Tracy I’ve got this smirk. It must work, or the other lady just doesn’t care, because she lets Star go. The house is deathly quiet, everyone either waiting in the living room or down in surgery, and the silence is too claustrophobic in that particular house. There’s usually music and laughter and the muted sounds of Alan playing video games instead of doing his homework. Never anything like this. Star doesn’t know how long it takes before she realises she’s standing at the end of the hallway, staring at the twin rows of closed bedroom doors.

Bare feet pad softly on the carpet, but it's still loud enough that Star is sure she’d be caught, if there was anyone else up there to witness the quiet. The handle to John’s room is cold and slightly dusty, but Star is beyond noticing the chill against her bare skin. She lets herself in.

The room is just the way John had left it, Star can see that even in the darkness of the door closing behind her. Posters of hubble photographs and celebrations of space launches are plastered on every available surface, peeling up at the corners in their age, and there are books everywhere. John’s piled them, one atop of another on his bedside table and desk, no room left on the bookshelf once their final pages have turned. There’s pictures too, some in frames and others tacked haphazardly in amongst the space memorabilia. The Tracy’s are smiling in every single one of them.

There's a photo of the two of them, one Star doesn't think she's ever seen, up amongst them. John with a small smile and a patient arm slung around her shoulders, Star grappling him round the waist and grinning.

The tears are welling in Star’s eyes again, but she wont let herself make a sound. She’s not going to disturb this place. She wants to run further, to disappear in a network of criminal connections and bad choices, but she doesn’t want to -can’t- leave John behind, even if his room is all she has of him. John has a glorified nightlight balanced on his desk, and when Star’s trembling fingers flick the switch it alights the ceiling with the night sky. Star folds herself into the corner at the foot of John’s bed, the book she’d brought with her clasped tightly to her chest. Her fuzzy head comes to rest on the barely made bed, the duvet not tucked in at the bottom, and she settles in to wait.

She’s not entirely sure what for.

It's a long time before anyone manages to find her, despite Ruth Tracy's best efforts. In the end it's Virgil, miserable and exhausted but alright enough with John's prognosis that he's happy to leave him with Brains so that he can go and have a shower, who taps his knuckles against John's bedroom door, with a strong idea of where the missing miscreant might be.

"Star?" A worry-worn face with dark, wet hair plastered down over his ears and a towel slung about his neck, sticks itself around the door frame. "You in here?"

There's a little blob of human in amongst John's thick space-chill curing blankets, small and curled and dampening his brother's pillows.

"Hey." He says, very soft and a little awkward, as he settles on the bed beside her, elbows on his knees. "John made it through surgery well. The radiation's done a lot of damage, but short term he's in the clear."

Star goes light headed with relief, a pent up whoosh of air leaving her chest. He’s not dead yet. He’s not dead yet.

A big, tentative palm settles, warm on her knee. "How you holding up?"

Because if it's anything like he's holding up, it's not great.

Star pulls her knee away from him, closer to herself, and Virgil can see her jaw working for a moment as if she’s going to say something of value. She doesn’t want him being nice to her, doesn’t need his pity for something he is going to find out is all her fault. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I’m not your patient, I’m not a civilian, and you don’t have to pretend you want to be here. It’s fine. You-”

Her burning eyes finally work their way up to Virgil’s face, and she freezes, mid tirade and all. She’s had what feels like a lifetime watching John through everything, from injury to illness to the self-inflicted disaster that is his sleep schedule, but Virgil wears it differently. The shadows under his eyes don’t belong there, not like this. He looks tired and stiff and all hunched over, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, like he’s trying to minimise the blast radius of his breakdown. It’s so unlike John, who stumbles loosely through whatever he’s done to himself with almost casual bashfulness, trusting Star to help him gather up all the little pieces of himself he’s dropped along the way.

And what a mistake he made there.

“Are you alright?” she murmurs, guilt for snarling at him adding to the acidic mess eating a hole through the pit of her stomach. “You look like you need to eat something and get some sleep.”

Vigil laughs. It's something dry and humourless and absolutely heartbreaking.

"I've just spent two hours cauterising my brother's major blood vessels so that he doesn't bleed out." He shakes his head, droplets from where it's wet flicking out, "No Star, I'm not ok. But... no one's expecting me to be." He takes a deep, ragged breath, "None of us are right now and I'm not expecting you to be alright either. And anyway, I'm not being nice to you." He adds, sounding almost offended. "Of course you're not a patient or a rescue or a civilian. Star, you're a friend." He resists the urge to touch her again, after his hand has already been slapped away. He's staring intently at his knees. "I know none of us started like this but, I'd hoped, by now, that perhaps you felt the same. You don't only care about John do you? And don't deny that, I can see how you're tearing yourself up over what's happened to him. I… us too, you know? You're not alone in this, even if, maybe, you want to be..." He trails off, miserably.

Star’s hand flops in the general direction of Virgil’s knee, halfway through the aborted motion of giving it a comforting pat, only to change her mind at the last second. It’s still shaking, even resting against the sheets, badly enough even Virgil can see it. Star doesn’t notice, too caught up by the traces of dried blood against her pale skin.

“Just because I think of you as a friend doesn’t mean you have to,” she murmurs. Her voice is low and tired and drained of anything resembling emotion, as if she’d somehow exhausted her supply somewhere between finding John’s helmet without him and re-entry. “Not after this. You shouldn’t have to look at me, not after I let this happen to John. I was up there, I was supposed to be there, that’s the whole reason I’m allowed to stick around, to keep him safe. Look what I’ve done to him.”

Star breaks off then, Virgil’s miserable frame hollowing out her chest and leaving behind nothing but a sharp sting. She lets the hand drift to his wrist, cold fingers giving his warm arm a squeeze. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

“Of course I do.” Virgil seems almost offended by the suggestion that he might not consider them friends. He goes quiet though, for a long moment, letting her explain all the wrongs she thinks she’s done against his brother. He doesn't like the degradation in her tone. “I… I don’t think you did any of it on purpose.” He wants to take her hand and give it a squeeze, like he would any of his brothers, but he also doesn’t want to get slapped away. “I don’t think you wanted any of this to happen, so of course I’m not going to blame you or hate you or whatever it is you’ve got into your head.”

“Are you going to keep hiding in here?” He adds, looking around the dusty, safe space of his brother’s abandoned room, “I don’t think it’s helping anyone, really, definitely not you and least of all me or the guys.” Not that he’s told Scott about her role in all this. He doesn’t intend to either. Scott’s a hot head who likes to react without thinking. “Do… do you want to go see John? We should get you cleaned up if you do.” He’s noticed her staring and the red-brown still flaking off her fingers, stuck under her nails. “Everything in and out of that room needs to be one hundred percent sterile. Do you feel up to a shower? John should be awake soon and I think it’d be a comfort to him to have you there.”

…

Virgil is always so bright, even though it’s not Gordon’s garish shirts and Alan’s non-stop talking. He’s always there with a kind word and a solution that just seems to fade into the background of everyday life, with no demand for credit or thanks or anything at all in return. He tells people he’s not okay to convince them to admit they’re feeling like shit, not because he’s expecting anyone to worry about what he’d just said about himself. Star had always chalked it up to being the middle child, but to see him still trying to make her feel better, even when it’s his brother who is sick, and she’s spent the whole evening snapping at him, makes her feel a different sort of sad. He has his brothers, of course, but he just seems so big that this kind of lackluster emotion should be impossible.

I’m not going to blame you, he tells her, do you want to see John? He’s offering her everything she needs to hear, even the things she’s sure at least some of the others wouldn’t give her.

Star wonders what it is he needs.

She drags herself upright, fighting the punishing grip of gravity that sends her head spinning and her entire body trembling. Re-entry without preparation, without John’s usual barrage of supplements and reassurances and have you drunk enough water? without… without John, is rapidly trying to ruin her plan, but Star is nothing if not determined. She wants to tell Virgil yes, I want to see John, and make him assure her she’s not going to make anything worse.

Instead, she clumsily drags herself over to the bigger Tracy and pulls him into a hug.

There’s a short, sharp gasp from Virgil, and it takes a second or two for his brain to kick into gear enough to actually respond.

“S-Star?” His heart is doing double time, loud against her cheek. “I… ok...” Big, warm arms wrap around her back, ever so carefully cradling her close. “It’s… gonna be ok…” There’s a sharp gasp of breath and Star feels his chest shudder. The arms curl a little tighter. Shower-wet hair tickles her cheek as Virgil buries his head in her shoulder, clinging, just for a moment. Star’s not the only one trembling, it turns out.

“God.” Virgil breathes, hot into her collarbone, “Hell. I can’t believe I just… shit.” His voice rises in pitch with each word, “John. Fuck.” It’s not particularly like any of them to make expletives part of their casual vocabulary (Grandma would wash their mouths out with soap for one) but Virgil thinks that, just this once, he can have an exception. “I had to… damn it.” The wet hair shakes against her cheek, everything that’s happened in the last twelve or so hours catching up with him all at once.

He’s poked, prodded, cut into and stuck his brother with more needles than he’d thought possible, drawing blood for analysis, taking images of his bones and musculoskeletal structure and soft, swollen tissues, examining his cells for radiation poisoning, and turning poor John swiftly into a human pincushion. His brother’s small veins and aplastic anemia had made Virgil’s job more difficult, and he just knows that by now there’ll be prominent, spreading purple bruises all up and down the astronaut’s arms as grim souvenirs. He knows they won’t be the last of them, either.

Virgil shivers, hard.

The Laparotomy, the surgery he’d had to perform to correct John’s internal bleeding, sealing off his brother’s weak, leaking blood vessels, has taken more of a toll on the dark haired Tracy than he’d thought. Virgil squeezes his eyes tightly shut, for a moment, before pulling back and pressing his mouth hard against the young woman’s temple.

Get it together Virg. Come on. They need you.

“Right.” He sucks in another breath, this time through his teeth, trying to force some semblance of control over himself. “I’m ok.” It’s a lie, blatantly, “I’m fine.” He seems to think that if he says it enough, it’ll be true. He unravels himself and holds Star at arms length, eyes raking over pale skin and dark circles, mussed hair and smudges of blood that isn’t hers. “You?” He needs to take care of someone right now, and he’s done all he can for John. That’s just the way Virgil is. Getting Star back up on her feet will help him bring back some semblance of control and normality, if only she’ll let him.

Star would have let him cling for the rest of the night, if that’s what he’d wanted, tucked up against his broad chest with one arm hooked around his shoulders, the other hand coming up to rest in his hair. He mutters, more to himself than her, Star knows, her cheek pressed up against the side of his jaw. His hair is seeping into her shirt -John’s shirt- and if it makes Virgil feel better, Star can’t even begin to bring herself to care about it or the vertigo or the fact that, while hugging him, she realises just how skinny John’s gotten by comparison.

Virgil shivers, full-bodied, and Star feels his lips against her temple before he holds her out at arms length. She manages to rally the strength to raise an arm, hand planted firmly against the side of his face, her thumb stroking gentle tracks across his cheekbone. There’s nothing to say, not you’re alright or everything’s going to be fine, because Star knows a lie when she sees one, and she can already taste its bitterness on her tongue.

“Right, ok. There’s an electrolyte drink, a shower and a good night’s sleep with your name on it waiting for you, and you are going to do all three.” He insists, before she can complain, “Doctor Virgil’s rules. We’ll go see John before your nap though, or you’re never gonna be able to drop off are you?” There’s a wry, tired grin, “I’ll even let you sleep up here if you want. John won’t mind. It’s not like he ever uses it anyway.” And that comes out far more bitter sounding than he’d intended it to. “Ah, sorry.”

“And are you going to sleep at all during all of this?” Star muses, blinking fuzzily against the swirling room. She’s gripping his arm, not just for comfort, but to make sure she doesn’t fall over.

Star grimaces at the sharp edge to Virgil’s words, but doesn’t say anything about it, just lets her hand drop back into her lap. It’s not like she even wants to sleep up there, but she’s not sure how she’s going to swing camping out in the medical bay, yet, or if she’s even going to try and swing it, yet. John might not want her there, and anything he wants…

She forces a watery smile to her face, for Virgil’s sake.

He looks almost reassured by it.

“The household is taking it in turns to watch over John.” He tells her, wearily, “I’ll sleep when I’ve done mine, and if you’re joining me, you will too. Now, shower.”

#RadiationRPwithStar #<333333333 #thunderbirds

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 23 Pt 1

The work week was a blur. A normal blur of work, court, kids, hockey, indoor soccer as the weather turned frigid, with the occasional painter and furniture delivery thrown in for good measure. Gustaf stood at the door to Sildie’s office and grinned, it looked great. The boys were busy putting her books in the bookshelf and having a blast. He’d talked to Brendan on the sly and she had all her law books in storage downstairs so there was no need to buy them. While Sildie was plowing through work the kids were “out” with Gustaf. They’d spent the entire morning finding what he was after in their storage room downstairs.

“These were dad’s.” Brendan said quietly, running a finger along the spine. “I remember them from his office.” He watched the teen place the books on the shelf with a heartbreaking tenderness. “She’s going to love this Gustaf.” He said softly. “She’s gonna cry and be angry at you for spending money on her for her birthday but she’ll love it.”

“Yeah I’m preparing myself for the shitstorm.” He chuckled. He knew she’d be angry because she’d specifically said she didn’t celebrate her birthday, but this was important, for her and for the kids.

“Can we put a frame on that wall?” Finn asked. “One like Lily’s?”

“You think she’d like that?” Gustaf asked, the kid nodded.

“We could put goofy photos in it so she’s happy.” He said quietly and hugged Gustaf tightly.

“I think we could manage that.” He said and saw the other two smile at the idea.

“We could start with all the photos from that day in the snow.” Brendan suggested.

“I have some from the twins birthday and yours B.” Gustaf added as Liam put more books on the shelf. “I know Ama has more on her phone, ones from Lily’s birthday.”

“I’ll text them to you.” Brendan said slyly.

“Weren’t these grandads?” He asked Brendan.

“I think so, her dads, I think. I know she had them in America when she was over there.”

“Those would be special to her.” Gustaf said softly. Maybe this would be too much for her, he thought, too many memories shoved in her face all at once.

“They are, I know she’s used them, or use to use them. I think she had a couple next door that she kept out. There just wasn’t enough room to keep them all out.”

“So B can you do a photo slideshow on the sly?” He asked the teen.

“Cakewalk.” He grinned.

“So what else should we get for Ama in here?” He asked and helped Finn put some books on the top shelf.

“I think we leave it.” Brendan said honestly and shrugged. “I know she has some personal stuff in storage that she might want to put in here herself. And she’s gonna flip her shit enough when she sees this.” He grinned.

“Fair enough.” Gustaf chuckled. “Ok, is that all the books?”

“I think so.” Liam said and picked up some of the packing paper that had ended up on the floor.

“Alright then, let’s get back home before Ama suspects and remember, not a word.” They all grinned at him.

She was a little lost with an empty house on a Sunday. Even though she was reading and taking notes, the endless silence was strangely uncomfortable. She found by two, she was actually missing the kids, Gustaf, the comfort of family and the ruckus that went with it.

He’d be gone tomorrow night, back on Wednesday morning, she wasn’t looking forward to the empty bed, to companionship she’d become accustom to. She worried about him, he was still so fragile, his emotional state so brittle. She’d finished reading his notebook and felt slightly sick about giving it back to him, she didn’t want it to spiral him again.

The sound of the boys and the key in the door made her smile. The noise she’d missed earlier was back and filled the apartment. They looked happy, well who wouldn’t with ice cream, even Lily had some and it was all over her, and Gustaf which made her giggle.

“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream love not wear it.” She chuckled moving to him to take the bag from his hand.

“Lily had other plans.” He grinned and kissed her, that slow burn melting her heart. “Hi.” He said softly.

“Hi yourself.” She was still chuckling. “You two are a sight.”

“I’ll be right back, she needs a bath, and I need a clean shirt.” He laughed and kissed her again. “There’s some ice cream in there for you.” He added as he went to bathe Lily.

She pulled out the tub of chocolate mint chip and groaned, the man just knew. It was these little things that absolutely melted her heart, the man paid attention to everything. Grabbing a spoon she sat with the entire tub and continued to read.

“I don’t know how you can eat that.” He joked, grabbing her spoon and eating the mouthful she had scooped out.

“Hey, that’s mine.” She growled. “You’ve had yours.”

“No, Lily had mine.” He corrected and grabbed his own spoon after placing a now clean Lily on the floor to play with her toys. “And painted me with it.” He added as he sat.

“Who says I’m gonna share.” Her grin was playful as he as he went to scoop out a spoonful for himself and cocked an eyebrow at her as she moved the tub to the other side of her book.

“I have the wingspan love and you’ll lose coming between me and ice cream.” He played, she’d been in a better mood since they cleared the air a week ago. He was relieved they’d got past it, a chance now to heal and move on. She hadn’t spoken of him leaving her since and he wasn’t going to bring it up again even though he still felt like an ass for ever putting her through it.

“It’ll cost you.” She quipped facing him.

“Will it now?” His eyebrow shot up.

“Mmm hmmm.” She kissed him slowly, tongue teasing.

“How much ice cream does that get me?” He asked softly.

“This much.” She put a tiny piece on the end of her spoon and fed it to him.

He paused for a moment watching her. That slight grin, the mischief in her eyes. Cupping a hand behind her neck he drew her close and kissed her until her moan made his cock twitch. She was breathless and slightly dizzy when he pulled away.

“I’ll give you the entire tub for another one of those?” She murmured.

“Now that’s a bargain I can’t pass up.” He growled and kissed her again. Her whimper as he pulled away making him smile. She set the tub down so he could enjoy it too and debated whether to give him back his notebook now or hold off.

“I’m going to miss you.” He said, that low timbre soft and quiet.

“I’ll miss you too love. We’re only a call away though.” She said smiling at him.

“Can I come to your office tomorrow for lunch before I head to the airport?”

“You want to?” She was a little dumbstruck and he nodded. He showed more interest in her career than any man before him and it still floored her. “I’d like that.” She flipped her laptop around to check her calendar and nodded. “Lunch for me is at twelve, I have a meeting at one. Bring lunch to the office?”

“I can do that. I’d like to see where you work.” He kissed her quickly and spooned some more ice cream out of the tub. He wanted to get a feel for her office to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Maybe rock her world quickly before he had to board a plane.

“You ok?” She asked gently.

“I’m ok. Better than last trip.” He looked at her and saw the concern.

“Were only a call or text away ok?” Her hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into it, her touch settled him. “You’re enough.” She said gently.

“I’ll be ok, I feel better this time around and it’s only for Tuesday, and I have the weekend to look forward to.” He kissed her sweetly and dug out another spoonful of ice cream.

“I can’t wait for Friday.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, the same sweetness filling his heart. “Where are you taking me?”

“Away.” He grinned when she pouted playfully. It was tormenting her not knowing. “Pack light.” He growled. “You’re going to be naked most of the weekend.” His kiss held the taste of that promise mixed with smooth chocolate and a spike of mint.

Their evening with the kids was the routine grind and Brendan sat with the twins when Gustaf was reading to them. They’d become closer the past few days, like something had shifted. Gustaf didn’t know what, but it had shifted in their favor so he wasn’t going to question it.

He came out to Sildie sitting at the table reading with a very overtired and fussy Lily.

“She still up?” He asked gently.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Little miss cranky pants. I bet she just knows you’re going away.” Lily sobbed curled into Sildie’s shoulder not wanting anything to do with Gustaf. Each time he rubbed her back she pushed him away with a sobbed cry of no.

“I’ll be back Lily bear.” He soothed and went to make a fresh pot of tea. “You know it’s your birthday in a week or so.” He said carefully. He was tempting fate but he didn’t want to blindside her.

“I’m aware.” She said, her tone unmistakably said, drop it.

“Would you be ok for birthday pancakes?” He was walking a fine line because she’d made it well known at the very beginning she didn’t want anything to do with her birthday.

“Do I have a choice?” She said crisply. She didn’t want it, nothing at all to do with her fucking birthday but it was apparently going to happen regardless.

“Yes, you always have a choice, however before you put the kibosh on it I’d like to add the kids want to do something for you.” He sat the teapot down and pulled the chair over to sit close to her. He brushed his finger against hers and her hand stopped writing mid word with a flinch.

“Can I ask why you don’t want to celebrate it when I know from the boys you always did?” He asked gently, he had his suspicions but he wanted to hear it from her.

Her pen hand twitched like it did when she was stressed or thinking, this was probably a little of both, he thought.

“How can I celebrate when I can’t celebrate with Quinn?” She said, that steel edging her voice. “I know you have siblings Gustaf, but he was my twin, he was a part of me as much as I was of him. It’s like I’m missing a vital organ, a part of me and...” Her voice choked. “I just can’t. I’m still trying to get used to living life without him here, without feeling him here, sensing him here. It’s something you’ll never understand.” It was blunt and harsh, but she hoped it would get him to just fucking leave it alone.

His thumb brushed away the stray tear and he kissed her gently. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll do breakfast pancakes because the kids need it. They need to say their happy birthday to their father, they need to grieve, to heal. I’m not there yet, that wound is far to deep for me to handle.” She said trying to stay calm. She couldn’t have a fucking meltdown tonight over it. “Please.” She said softly. “Please don’t force me to deal with this yet, I’m not ready.”

“Ok.” He wouldn’t push but he also knew the books in her office were going to tear her apart. Maybe it was best to leave that for Christmas? It was only another two weeks after her birthday but if he added it in with the rest of his gift it might soften the blow? Fuck he thought, he just wanted to see her happy and yet he had a knack for making her miserable.

“You’ve arranged something haven’t you?” She asked and he saw the anger flicker in her eyes.

“The boys and I have arranged something yes, but I’m having second thoughts as it’s likely to upset you.” Which was the truth.

“I told you I didn’t want anything Gustaf.” She said exasperated, Lily letting out a quiet sob at her raised voice as she was almost asleep. Sometimes the guy just didn’t listen she thought.

“I know.” He said calmly.

“Well if you know then why...” She spat as he gripped her chin and kissed her hard letting all the love he knew she could feel pour out of him, those words were right there but they wouldn’t come out.

“Because the kids need it. That’s why.” His own irritation flaring, not only at the woman in his arms but that those three little words still didn’t want to come out. “I swear, sometimes you are infuriatingly stubborn.” He kissed her again and she softened, it took the wind right out of her sails. “I know how you feel about me spending money on you and the kids but damn it Sildie, let me fucking spoil you for the one day of the year that’s actually yours.” He breathed out. Damn she could get under his skin sometimes, hard headed, stubborn, and he fucking loved her.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured. “I just don’t know how to handle getting older without him.” Her voice was tiny, so lost, he thought. “It just rips me apart all over again.”

“Together, with me.” He kissed her, lingering, soothing. “I can’t bring him back love, fuck I wish I could do that for you, but I can’t.”

“He was always the bigger older brother, and he’s gone.” She sniffed.

“He protected you, took care of you?”

“Yeah.” She leaned forward to lean her head against his shoulder. He was her home now and she had to let him be that for her if this was going to work, but fuck it hurt like hell.

“I know it’s not the same but let me do that now.” He murmured kissing her hair. “Let me be the one to protect you, take care of you.”

“I don’t want to dump that on you too. I can’t be a fucking mess all over you all the time.” She muttered and huffed out a sigh. She was being needy and she fucking hated it.

“You’re not, I want to take care of you Sildie, but you have to let me.” He murmured.

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are love.” He kissed her temple as she sat back against her own chair. “How much more reading do you have for tonight?”

“I can be done.” She huffed out, not really in the zone anymore anyway.

“Go put Lily down, I’ll run you a bath, and then you can soak in the tub. You’ll feel better after a soak in the heat.” He kissed her and stood, taking the cups and teapot to the sink to rinse out.

He walked into the bedroom a little later to find Lily in the crib and Sildie sitting on the floor soothing her to sleep. By the time he had the tub filled and a fresh pot of tea made, Lily was out cold and Sildie was just sitting there lost in thought. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.

“Go soak.” He murmured.

“Sometimes I think I’m taking advantage of you.” She blurted out.

“Why because I draw you a bath and make you tea?” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her longingly. “I do it Sildie because I want to, because I care.” And because I love you, it almost came out. Almost ain’t the words though is it chicken shit, he thought.

“I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m doing that ok? Tell me if I am.” She said softly. She knew these thoughts were from reading his notebook, but what he’d written in there, what Ana had put him through, had rocked her to the core.

“You’re not love and I’ll tell you if I ever feel like you are.” Highly doubtful he thought, and he knew where these dark thoughts were coming from. She must have nearly finished reading it. “Go soak, relax that wicked smart brain of yours.”

“Thank you.” She said, starting to strip.

“Anytime love.” He poured the tea for her and let her be. He wouldn’t be surprised to come back in and find her asleep.

He carefully tidied her work trying not to get things mixed up and stacked it in a neat pile next to her bag. He’d seen her clean up enough to know her routine and the way her organizational mind worked. He couldn’t help the grin, sure she’d be upset, maybe even a little irritated at him but Brendan was right, she’d love the office, her own space.

He sat and read through his schedule for the trip away and smiled. He just had to get through this and he’d be home until the shoot in February. Time, he thought, good quality time with Sildie and the kids and hopefully his family. Have her move in. He knew Christmas would be rough even with the heads up he was giving his family, he only had to get a hold of Sam and Alex, but it would be brutal on her.

The rest of them were understanding and just happy she was coming. They would welcome her with open arms and support her and the kids as they healed. Bill had already offered to take the four of them for sleep overs so she could have a break.

He came in to see her zoned out and relaxed, head resting on the edge of the tub, those long long legs poking out of the bubbles. He knelt down leaning against the tub and kissed her, lips he craved, soft and sweet. Those eyes of glacial blue fluttered open to look into his, damn he was so in love with her.

“You look all warm and soft.” He murmured.

“Iyam.” She slurred.

“Do you need help getting out?” He chuckled as she tried to sit up and flopped back against the edge.

“Oh gravity sucks.” She huffed as she struggled to sit. “I don’t think I have any bones left.” She giggled as his arms came around her to help her stand. “They’ve all melted.”

“Just stand a second love.” He grinned. “Get those fabulous pins under you.” It was just what he was hoping for. She wrapped her arms around him and held on, breathing in the scent of him which would be gone tomorrow night and Tuesday.

He helped her step out and wrapped a towel around her. Her mouth finding his, that slow, seductive burn that he drowned in.

“Sildie.” He breathed as her hands drifted under his shirt. He bent down quickly to pull the plug on the bath, and when he straightened he bundled her into his arms and devoured her mouth.

He walked her back toward the bed, quietly shut the bathroom door, and let her towel drop to the floor. Her hands busied with the zipper while his hands tenderly cupped her breast, he’d take her slowly tonight, savor her.

Her head was swimming from the heat of the bath, his clever mouth, and those hands. Those hands that aroused her like no other, touched her like no other. She pushed the dark blue denim from his hips as he sat her on the edge of the bed while he stepped out of them, her lips never leaving his.

She released his mouth and he stood to his full height. There was something so erotic about the way he gazed down at her. She kissed his chest as his hands disappeared into her hair. The light tug as her hand drifted to stroke him, the groan as she kissed her way down until she was on her knees.

She savored those powerful thighs as her hands wandered, fingers gripping his ass as her mouth kissed everywhere except his erection. She could hear his unsteady breathing, his hands gripping tighter in her hair. She grinned as she licked his manhood from root to tip before swirling her tongue and taking him in her mouth, the growl guttural.

He looked down at his goddess as he slowly rocked his hips, hands still fisted in her hair gently. He loved the feeling of her mouth around him, that talented tongue destroying him. He kept his movements slow, determined to savor the feel of her.

She felt him tense, the struggle to stay in control. His hands pulled her head back enough for those seductive eyes to find his, his body remaining still. She released his cock seeing the unspoken request in his gaze and kissed her way up his body as his hands urged her to stand.

“I want to be in you when I come.” He kissed her, slow and erotic. “I want to feel you come around me.” He stepped toward the bed and she sat when her calves met the mattress. He leaned over her, his towering presence making her feel so safe as she lay back. “My turn.” He growled and ghosted her lips before kissing her with such longing.

He kissed his way down her torso, stopping at her breasts and gently sucking her nipples, that clever tongue flicking. Kneeling between her legs his huge hands flexed out over her thighs to bring them up and open before resting them on his shoulders. He feasted slowly, drawing her release closer and closer to the edge.

“Gustaf.” She sighed when his tongue swirled at her entrance before dipping in and licking her all the way up to her clit. He took his time making her wetter for him before her orgasm crested, her hand diving down to caress his head. He slipped two long digits inside her and watched her come, his gorgeous woman writhing in pleasure. He slowed and kissed his way up her body to devour her mouth, her own ravenous for him.

“Hold onto me.” He murmured and carried them both up the bed, he wanted her comfortable, slow, erotic.

Her hands wandered, drawing lazy patterns against his already aroused skin, the shiver not lost on her. That clever mouth found hers and kissed her so her mind blanked. She whimpered as his cock brushed her thigh, moaned as he took it in his hand and rubbed the tip against her clit and down along her wet folds.

“Roll onto your side.” His voice was husky with need as she did as he’d asked. He knew this was a new favorite and tonight he wanted her comfortable and slowly. He came to his knees and straddled her lower leg, bringing the top one up to bend against her side, her knee almost under her armpit. He lowered himself to kiss her, envelop her with his massive frame, breathe her in as he made love to her.

He kissed her, tongue teasing hers as his tip slipped inside her. The gasp into his mouth was more a purr. He slowly tip fucked her, drawing that purr out of her as he began to bring her undone.

“You like that.” He murmured, kissing her tenderly.

“I like you.” She moaned as he stretched her.

His mouth stayed on hers as her hands cupped his face keeping him close. She was already lost to him, relaxed, aroused, and so ready for him to take.

“Look at me.” He whispered, those stunning eyes finding his as he inched inside her.

“Gustaf.” She choked as he filled her, his girth stretching her beyond what she thought possible. His mouth claimed hers as he started to thrust. The slow destruction of her entire being.

He thrust slow and deep making sure she felt every ridge, every inch of him. Her breath mixed with his as her climax built, the sensations sparking an inferno within her. Her kiss was desperate as she crested, her soft cry as he held her on the edge for a moment before watching her fall.

“Gustaf.” She choked as he kept the pace brutally steady.

“Let go. Let me watch you come again.” He murmured as her body tensed as she peaked again. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as he swallowed her cry, her pussy gripping him tightly. “You’re so beautiful love.”

“Harder. Please.” Her whimper made his cock twitch.

“Not tonight.” He growled. “I want you slow, to feel every gorgeous inch of you against me.”

They took each other, bodies entwined, moving together in an erotic pace bringing them both to the edge.

“Sildie.” He choked as his own release peaked.

“Give yourself to me.” She breathed, her own climax making her tremble.

His long deep strokes into her set her body alight. The feel of him against her, inside her, such pleasure. He watched her teeter on the edge, denying herself the plunge into euphoria until he was there with her. With swift fingers he tormented her clit, slow circles the gentle push she needed.

Her soft cry of his name so full of love, of pleasure made him fall with her. With a barely there groan he followed her into bliss. He rode them down from the high, the gentle thrusts until they were spent. Curling her leg around him he lay there with her in his arms.

“I’ll miss you.” He said softly. “I know it’s just for a day or so but I’ll miss you, miss this.”

She smiled as she snuggled into him. “Same goes love. We’re only a call away. I’ll set the laptop up tomorrow and you can call whenever, if that’s what you need.” She looked up at him and his gaze melted her. So much love there, she thought.

“I’d like that.” He kissed her with that sweet tenderness that always floored her. “You though, need sleep.” He said gently.

“Always taking care of me.” Her smile was one of mild annoyance.

“If I don’t you’ll work until you’ve run yourself into the ground.” He trailed a finger down her jaw and hooked it under her chin firmly. “I don’t like seeing you like that, those dark smudges under your eyes, the stress.” He kissed her. “Promise me you won’t do that while I’m away.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“That not what I asked you.” He chuckled.

“I know.” He could feel her grin against his bare chest. “I don’t sleep well when you’re not here.” She said quietly.

He bundled her in closer, kissing her deeply. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for having a career and doing what you love.” She said softly. “I like sleeping with you, having you next to me every night, but I also like seeing you happy because you’re doing what you love.” She’d miss him but there’s no way in hell she’d guilt trip him. “I’d be very angry if you gave any of that up for me or because of me. That’s not what I want.”

“I know.” His smile set those crows feet crinkling and she couldn’t resist the urge to rub her thumb along them.

“We’re making it work, I’ll just miss you.” She shrugged.

“Thank you.” He sighed and kissed her sweetly. “Thank you for being the incredible person you are.”

“I just want you love. You’re more than enough for me.” Her hand stroked down his jaw playing with his scruff before she kissed him so his mind settled.

“Sleep now.” He kissed her quickly. “Asses to kick tomorrow.”

“Not too many.” She yawned and giggled.

“As long as it’s not mine.” He quipped under his breath and he snuggled her close as she huffed a chuckle.

Sleep took her under quickly. He was content to stroke his fingers along her body as if committing every dip and curve to memory. He wasn’t as anxious at leaving them this time, it seemed like another normal day at the office, life had let them settle somewhat.

His thoughts drifted to her office and the potential grief it would bring. He expected it, he just wondered if it would send her further down into a grief spiral like the anniversary. But the fact was it would hurt the kids regardless of whether they celebrated her birthday or not because it was their fathers birthday as well. They had jumped at the opportunity to do something really thoughtful for her when he told them about the office. Fuck me, he thought, this was gonna suck, damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

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#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction #shattered lives

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