#despite having to have yet another tab open on my phone browser to use it

[bi-disastersoup]

okay but. i'm actually kinda pleased with this so far...

[miyaniacs]

this will be so much fun!!!

OKAY SOOO I’LL DO SOME OF MY FAVES FOR THIS ONE OKAY?

(repost bc it took too much time to write this to not show up in the tags numbers of failed attempts: 2 )

warnings: I guess slight nsfw and me being tipsy while writing this , all characters are 18+

characters: Kurro, Akaashi, Kenma, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima, Iwaizumi, Osamu, Atsumu, Sakusa

masterlist

HC The boys find out their crush is a cam girl / has an onlyfans account

Kuroo

AYT NOW LISTEN

it was late at night and he couldn’t sleep so ... there is one thing he hasn't tried yet...

now he’s on some popular cam girl website and scrolling through the different cams

then he stops

this one girl seems familiar

he clicks on it and

JACKPOT ?! its YOU ??? HIS CRUSH ???!

but OMG. he had the best night of his life sweety

but still.. he will now definitely ask you out on a date tomorrow.

after seeing your beautiful body and the way you moan and move

HONEY NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SEE THIS AGAIN

other than that he probably thinks it’s hot af that you are a cam girl

I mean Kuroo aka pornstar

he loves the fact that you the sweetheart for anyone else but could be the pornstar just for him

smug af the next day he sees you from afar

shy af the second you come over

Akaashi

HE DID NOT OPEN THIS TAB OKAY

he did tho but HE DID NOT OKAY?

OKAY!

so anyway - his browser magically opened his one website

and he just hear someone talk

he recognised the voice but - NO... this can’t be you right?

yeah jokes on him

he chocked on his on salvia when you walk in the view of the camera wearing nothing but some sexy black lingerie

GURL. BITCH THOUGHT YOU WERE A BABY?!

but now he knows you aren't

you definitely aren't

but he now wants you to be his babygirl

and he wants to look away.. but he can’t

soooooo ..... yeah. he had some fun that night

wasn’t sure how to look into your eyes the next time he saw you tho

Kenma

he did not find you

Kuroo did

and yes he immediately sent him the link with a voice memo of him basically just screaming

the said link lent to an onlyfans account

despite the fake user name, he instantly recognises the birth mark on your arm

yes the many times he watched you when you all were out with friends made him recognise this stuff

so did he pay to see the rest of the pictures and videos?

yes.

was he embarrassed?

oh hell yes.

was he still enjoying it?

yes.

is he now able to look into your eyes?

no.

Kuroo has to do all the magic to make him speak to you now - because you are, despite the account you got, still a shy bean who can’t talk to her crush

Oikawa

screams in the middle of the goddamn night

you - you just brought him chocolate a few hours ago?

and now your stripping in front of him? I mean you don't know that he's watching since you just do it in front of the cam

his little oik-oik is growing

he thought you were innocent?

will sent the link to IWA-CHAN

with a “LOOK AT MY CRUSH OMG”

after your lingerie is off and you took out a toy he sent another message

“WAIT NO DONT LOOK AT HER”

he will be all cocky tho when he sees you the next time

you walk up to him, saying a cute and shy “hello” and he’s just

“you haven’t been this shy last night”

you panic and run away which results in him panicking running after you screaming apologises

Bokuto

He is hyped

OMG

Poor Akaashi will probably know about all of this too

he has so much fun watching you online - imagining that you are here with him at this moment doing all of this just for him

which you secretly do since you’re also imagine him watching this

will open this website more often the following days then he would admit

i’m not sinning that much to actually write down the stuff that’s going on in his head

the next time he sees you

he does question if it was really you who he saw online

you are nothing like the girl he saw there

SOOOOOOO he straight up ask you

“hey y/n !!! are you (your username)” he smiles and tilts his head

you just black out

Ushijima

again poor baby

Tendou and Semi told him to visit this site - hot farmers advice

this baby thought he’d actually learn something he could tell you - his crush - since you recently TOLD HIM that you try to grow some tomatoes

but when the site finished loading

HE WAS NOT EXPECTING TO SEE YOU ON THERE

with nothing less than lingerie, an oversized plaid shirt AND a straw hat

you’re on all fours and the way you move and moan and talk to the camera

he wasn't really taking note of where his hand is wandering rn

soon after, you are now without a bra, he finds himself rock hard

the next day you tell him about your tomatoes WHICH ARE GROWING (!!!) he gets red af and just leaves

you look confused at a laughing Semi and Tendou rolling on the floor

Iwaizumi

he usually doesn’t do this stuff... but... it was some time until he got some

and he just wants you - so he doesn't want to hook up with some random girl

you’re pure and innocent and he accepts this and will wait for you too feel comfy enough so he can ask you out on a date

anyways he’s at this random website

and switches trough the channels to find someone he likes

and he chocks.

THIS CANT BE

YOU

he actually was about to text Oikawa but then stopped because Oikawa

he starred at the screen not even blinking

his hand is moving so fast

and all the things you say and the way you tease your viewers

omg

hny

he really wants to fuck some manners in you okay?!

awkward af the next day he sees you tho

yes talking about blushing IWA-CHAN

Osamu

his Laptop was broken

so he used Atsumu’s

WHO left this tab open

he let out a small scream, his normally stoic face falling

WHY ARE YOU NAKED ON HIS BROTHERS LAPTOP

now he sees that it’s an only fans

WHY IS HIS BROTHER PAYING TO SEE HIS CRUSH NAKED

but hey.. Atsumu’s not home... and he told him it’s okay to use his laptop..

a few minutes later he’s already worked up watching your beautiful body, his eyes following every movement of yours

he can’t really comprehend that you are the same girl that always comes to his shop, always stuttering and nervous while talking to him?

BUT HELL WAS HE ENJOYING IT

and those pictures of you in this maid uniform.

OH AND IS THIS CHOCOLATE ON YOUR BOOBIES

his imagination went wild

“OY i see you’re enjoying my present?” - Atsumu came back home

Atsumu

I mean it’s canon that he watches porn and is paying for some cam girls right?

so he’s looking for some now that look more like you - his crush.

someone cute and innocent

Gosh he loves it how easily you get flustered when he flirts with you

this one looks promising he thinks

and hell was it promising

it was you

surprise surprise

he was blushing for a whole minute baby

THAT ASS ?!

how tf have you hid that all the time?

SO many dirty thoughts

SOOOO MANY

will def call Osamu to his room

after he finished this lil problem down there obviously

Osamu is grossed out - he thought you are cool  and now he can’t look at you the same way

Atsumu tho - wont get that much sleep that night, your body and all the thing’s he’d do to you circling in his head keeping him up

is Atsumu enjoying this way too much the next day he sees you? Obviously YES

he will walk up to you, flirting, and when he’s about to leave he adds

“How about you skip todays stream and put on a show just for me?”

Sakusa

IT. WAS. NOT. HIS. IDEA.

Ratsumu sent him a link

our poor boy thought it was about volleyball and not something so dirty

he was CLEANING HIS ROOM WHEN HE OPEND IT

with the cleaning product you suggested to him

and now he sees you on his phone also cleaning

but with - with NOTHING ON ?!

he dopes the products and sits down on his bed - he knew you are beautiful but damn.. this hits different.

you with some MR. PROPER and WINDEX

PUHHH his fantasy is running wild WILD now that he sees you.. move .. and cleaning some of your toys and well

.... he needs to change the sheets and cleans again afterwards

ok so the next day... Atsumu already told you that he knows about your dirty little secret and that he sent it Sakusa to “help you two ”

Sakusa came and looked at you disgusted “You're dirty even tho you’re cleaning? that wasn't the way you’re supposed to uses those items.” he adds

“Then make me pure again?” you return ( @tendouthighs​​ about Sakusa) “- and show me how to properly use them”

[finelytaylored]

Walking With A Ghost

Summary: 

Rey leaned forward to hit the record button on her webcam before scooting back to her previous spot and positioning herself slightly off center.

"Hi guys! Rey here with another video. I'm going to be doing something a bit different today. So many of you have requested that I post a reaction to this video, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm in for here. So it's going to be quite an adventure for all of us." Rey said with a laugh. "I'm trusting you guys on this one... I'm slightly terrified. But I'm also extremely curious, so let's just jump into this and see what happens."

Rey paused briefly before leaning over until she could reach her laptop. She opened the browser window where she had queued up the video. Her eyes scanned the title and she bit her lip, already trying to keep from laughing. "I'VE NEVER SEEN MY BEST FRIEND'S FACE?!". That, paired with the thumbnail- she knew she was in for an interesting 7 minutes at the very least.

She hit 'play' and quickly got herself situated as the opening sequence for the channel "WhatTheHux" played and then faded out. Two men appeared on screen- well, one was definitely a man. He had very vibrant, natural red hair and a very pale skin tone. Sitting next to him was someone - with broad shoulders and a mask covering their entire face- their entire head. She couldn't even see a single strand of hair peaking out from beneath it. She was already intrigued.

(read on AO3) (or continue reading below) 

Rey stared at the equipment sitting in the corner of the room and let out a long drawn-out sigh. She could've sworn it was mocking her. She knew she absolutely needed to record that day. She hadn't posted anything in almost a week, and even though she only had a few hundred subscribers she needed to stay dedicated. If she ever had any hope of her channel actually growing into something, she couldn't allow herself to get lazy. The moment she started giving herself an inch, a month would pass without her uploading. It hadn't happened- yet. She was trying to keep it that way.

Rey shook her head at how ridiculous she was being. She started doing this because she enjoyed it. It gave her a consistent hobby. It also kept her productive, which helped keep some of her anxiety and depression from completely swallowing her whole.

She didn't really have the space to record the way she wanted to. She shared a bedroom with her roommate Rose, and the only other open space was the living room. It was a cozy little place they shared and she loved it; it just meant she had to get creative with her set up.

Normally, if Rose wasn't using the living room or the attached kitchen, Rey would use their shelf of movies as her backdrop and the coffee table as her desktop. It wasn't much, but she made it work for her. Sitting on the floor wasn't always the most comfortable thing, but she didn't have much of a choice.

She crawled over to the coffee table and pulled up the tabs she needed on her laptop just as she heard the lock jiggling in the front door. She smirked to herself as Rose walked through it a few seconds later. "Just in time. I almost thought I'd have to start without you."

"Hello to you too", Rose replied, as she shut the door behind her and leaned down to untie her boots. "Do you just put off recording until you think I'm going to be home?"

Rey laughed and shook her head. "Me? Procrastinate? I'm a bit insulted you'd even suggest that." She replied as she finished adjusted her camera. "But now that you're here, I don't see why..."

"I knew it!" Rose laughed, cutting her sentence short. "You just didn't want to record by yourself."

"Viewers really enjoy it when we record together! You've seen the comments, Rose" Rey replied, turning to look at her roommate as she walked into their bedroom.

Rey knew that being on camera wasn't really Roses' thing. It certainly wasn't for everybody. But they did have great chemistry and it actually gave Rey someone to interact with. It created an energy on screen that she had to work so much harder to achieve when she recorded by herself. She had only started the channel by herself because she had to. She didn't have any friends with channels in their little part of the world, and didn't know anyone who would have started one with her.

So she had to resort to trying to drag her roommate into it as often as she could.

"What are you reacting to today?" Rose asked from the other room.

"I'm actually doing something new tonight." Rey replied. "There's this video- no idea what it is- but I've gotten loads of comments asking me to post a reaction."

"Yeah?" She could tell Rose as at least curious. She counted it as a small victory. Rose walked back into the shared living space. "I don't know if you should be excited or terrified... people on the internet are into some weird shit sometimes."

Rey couldn't disagree with her there. "I've done a bit of checking into it, without watching the actual video, because I'd like to avoid being completely scarred for life if at all possible." She said in reassurance.

"Good. I've taught you well." Rose replied with a smile as she flung herself onto one of the couches.

Rey scoffed and looked at Rose, giving her the look. "Which one of us still uses a flip phone that doesn't even have internet capabilities on purpose?"

"My phone does everything I need it to, thank you very much." Rose replied, raising her eyebrows.

"It's like I don't even know who you are sometimes."

"You don't know what you'd do without me." Rose replied, sticking her tongue out.

"You're bloody right about that. Who would I be perpetually single with if you weren't around?" Rey admitted.

"Exactly. Although, I'm still willing to put money on you getting married before I do. If I ever do." Rose replied.

Rey giggled as she responded. "You're so ridiculous. The more you say that, the more I'm convinced the universe is going to make sure you eat your words. You'll be married before all of us."

"And you say that every time it gets brought up. Stop giving the universe ideas." Rose threatened playfully, throwing one of the couch pillows at her.

Rey caught it and threw it back at her. "Rude." Rose just laughed.

"Are you going to record this with me or are you going to be a creep like you usually are and just watch me do it?"

"Hey! I am not creepy. Your subscribers love when I give my offscreen commentary. Makes it feel more authentic." Rose replied.

"Fair enough." Rey conceded with a sigh. "Let's get this over with then."

Rey leaned forward to hit the record button on her webcam before scooting back to her previous spot and positioning herself slightly off center.

"Hi guys! Rey here with another video. I'm going to be doing something a bit different today. So many of you have requested that I post a reaction to this video, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm in for here. So it's going to be quite an adventure for all of us." Rey said with a laugh. "I'm trusting you guys on this one... I'm slightly terrified. But I'm also extremely curious, so let's just jump into this and see what happens."

Rey paused briefly before leaning over until she could reach her laptop. She opened the browser window where she had queued up the video. Her eyes scanned the title and she bit her lip, already trying to keep from laughing. "I'VE NEVER SEEN MY BEST FRIEND'S FACE?!". That, paired with the thumbnail- she knew she was in for an interesting 7 minutes at the very least.

She hit 'play' and quickly got herself situated as the opening sequence for the channel "WhatTheHux" played and then faded out. Two men appeared on screen- well, one was definitely a man. He had very vibrant, natural red hair and a very pale skin tone. Sitting next to him was someone - with broad shoulders and a mask covering their entire face- their entire head. She couldn't even see a single strand of hair peaking out from beneath it. She was already intrigued. She said as much out loud, reminding herself to stay present and speak to the viewers.

"That mask is insane. There's no way this is a one off. They spent some serious time, or money, or both on that thing..."

"...most of you probably know, my name is Hux and you may have noticed I have a guest joining me today."

Hux spoke with an accent much like Rey's. There were a handful of highly successful YouTubers who were English, most of who she kept up with. But she couldn't say she'd seen his videos before.

"If you spend most of your free time getting sucked into the YouTube void, you should recognize my guest as Kylo Ren. That's right- THE Kylo Ren. Kylo doesn't normally agree to do collaborations, but after years and years of nagging, and despite constant threats of renouncing our friendship completely, he has agreed to do "The Best Friend tag" with me."

"I immediately regret all of my life choices that lead to this moment." Kylo said, speaking for the first time since the video started.

She noticed right away that the voice coming from the mask was... a bit odd. It was clearly going through a filter- a voice changer of some sort. She couldn't help but wonder what this guy did on his own channel. So much went into connecting to and finding an audience, and she had always believed that - whether you were putting on a persona for your channel or not- eye contact with the camera meant everything.

Clearly this Kylo Ren had found a way around that; if he was as popular as Hux made him out to be.

"You don't mean that, Ren" Hux replied rolling his eyes. "That means you regret the last ten years we've known each other and our entire friendship."

"I can already tell admitting to the internet that we know each other and that I willingly spend time with you was a mistake. Why did I agree to this again?" Kylo replied with a sigh.

Rey was completely sucked in. Hux and Kylo had a dynamic that was fun to watch. It was easy to tell that they were actually friends, as painful as that seemed to be for Kylo in that moment.

"Because despite what you want everyone to believe, you do actually enjoy my company. Also, your life would be a mess without me." Hux replied with a smirk.

Kylo didn't reply, and he didn't have to. His silence was almost funnier than anything he could've said. He just had a presence that telegraphed his disdain.

"They haven't even gotten to any of the questions yet and this is brilliant. Big thanks to everyone who requested this because I can already tell I'm going to love this." Rey said to the camera, a big smile on her face.

"Your silence is supremely encouraging, thank you." Hux continued. "So, we have a list of ten questions to answer for each other, and whoever gets the most right wins- because it means they actually pay attendant and know their best friend very well."

"I hope you're prepared to be supremely disappointed." Kylo said.

The tone of his voice didn't really change- but there had to at least be a smirk under that mask. Or the most exasperated facial expression in the entire world. As the video continued and Hux tried his best to get Kylo to participate in this little game he'd somehow convinced him to be part of in this first place, Rey found herself caught up in trying to imagine what the mystery man's facial expressions looked like. The one liners he would throw out were complete gold. Whether it was on purpose or not, his comedic timing was brilliant.

"First question- Describe each other in one word." Hux read out from the piece of paper in his hands. "There are plenty of words I could choose here.. but I think that 'mysterious' is probably best. All encompassing. Might be a bit too obvious though..."

"Delightful" Kylo suddenly says, clearly catching Hux off guard.

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me" Hux replied, genuine shock on his face.

"No, me. The word I think you should be using for me is delightful. You're more of an.... insufferable. Clingy."

"Clingy?! How am I clingy?!" Hux replied.

"There mere fact that I'm in this video right now proves that."

Hux was clearly not in control of the situation, and Rey had a feeling that wasn't unusual. Kylo knew how to get under Hux's skin.

"I've changed my mind. 'Insufferable' is now the word I'm using for you." Hux replied. "Okay, next question. How would you describe our friendship?"

"A ten hanging out with a five." Kylo replied without missing a beat.

Rey burst out into surprised laughter. This Kylo Ren was relentless. "This 'Kylo Ren' is either a comedic genius or a complete asshole. Maybe a little bit of both."

It didn't take long for Rose to pop in and join her- it was comedic gold and even she didn't want to miss out on it. It was funny if you listened to it, but watching it made it even better. Kylo Ren was so calm and composed- even in his body language. It contrasted well with how animated Hux was when he spoke.

"I can't believe this is the first time these two have collaborated. They've been depriving the internet of years of comedy gold." Rey said between laughs, trying to catch her breath. Rose was nearly in tears next to her as they continued to watch the video. By the time they reached the end of it, both of them were a mess.

"Oh my god Rose. What did we even just watch." Rey said, wiping tears from her face.

"You're right. It really is a travesty that this is the only collaboration video they've done... it's probably also a good thing though because otherwise I'd just sit around watching them and never get anything done." Rose replied.

"You and me both. Well, thank you again to everyone out there who requested this, because you just made our night. If you liked what you saw, don't gorget to subscribe and keep sending in requests. You guys are the best, we'll see you next time!" Rey said, closing out the video.

X x X x X x X

"I told you it was a brilliant idea." Hux said for what felt like the millionth time since he posted the video.

Be rolled his eyes, keeping his back turned and focusing on the task at hand. It didn't take that much concentration to cook dinner, but he knew it would annoy Hux.

"Are you just going to keep saying that every day, a thousand times a day until we die? It's been two months" Ben replied.

Hux scoffed. "Only until you admit I was right. Which I obviously was."

He couldn't exactly argue with him. Their video had reached a couple million views in just a few hours, and his subscriber count had definitely increased.

"You do realize I never said it was a bad idea in terms of content." Ben replied. "Kylo has never done a collaboration- that in itself was going to attract viewers."

"Exactly. I know you knew it was mutually beneficial. Which is why I still don't get why it took literally years of me begging for you to finally agree to it." Hux replied.

"Because you clearly still don't understand what it actually takes to keep my channel operating successfully. All it takes is one little hint- the smallest piece of identifiable information- and someone out there will figure it out. And then it'll be all over the internet and the 6 years of work I've put into my channel will mean nothing." Ben explained, finally turning around to look at him. "It's also why there was no way in hell I was letting you edit that thing without supervision." His lips twitched up into a smirk as Hux attempted to glare a hole through him.

"... I hate you."

Ben turned his attention back to the stove and smiled to himself. It was rare for Hux to not have a clever comeback. It usually only happened when he knew Ben had a point and didn't want to admit it. Normally, he'd give him shit for it, but he was feeling generous today. "So, what's on your long and exciting list of plans for the weekend?"

"Oh y'know, the usual." Hux sighed, sinking down onto the couch. "Hit the circuit. Take advantage of the free alcohol. Stop by at an unacceptable hour of the morning completely pissed and steal your leftovers."

"So, the usual then?" Ben asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to walk over to the couch. He took a bite of the food he had just finished preparing and sat down. Hux's weekend antics had been the same since they were in their early 20's. It stopped phasing him a long time ago.

Hux shot him a knowing look. "Don't be bitter, Solo. You know you're more than welcome to join me instead of being a shut in all weekend. But only if you're not going to stand in the corner and sulk."

Ben protested. "Excuse me, I don't stand in the corner and sulk. I find a comfortable spot and observe. Despite my better judgement, I even let you convince me to get drunk enough to dance occasionally."

Hux snorted. "If only I still had videos from some of those nights. I don't know why you don't let loose more often."

Ben shook his head, taking another bite of his food. "It's part of the genius behind my branding decisions. I can decide when I want to go out and when I don't, and I rarely have to make appearances in general. Anyone can throw on a mask for a few minutes, shake some hands and leave."

"I don't think I've ever met someone who is as smart as you are, while also being an absolute moron." Hux replied. "You found a brand that has given you attention other YouTubers would kill for, while still maintaining anonymity and you're not even taking advantage of it."

"How many times have you given me this lecture now?" Ben asked, clearly amused by the situation.

"Clearly not enough. Because you still refuse to learn anything from my extremely valuable wisdom." Hux replied.

"I don't think 'wisdom' is really the word I'd use for it."

"You really are insufferable." Hux said, standing and grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. "I'm going to get ready and at 7:00 I'm coming back here and you better be dressed and ready for a night you won't remember tomorrow." He was out the door, shutting it behind himself before Ben could respond.

He had a little under 3 hours to decide if he was going to indulge Hux or not. He could just leave. Find somewhere to hang out and be gone by the time Hux came looking for him. Ben sighed as he took the last couple bites of his food. "I'm really, really going to regret this." he mumbled to himself.

Eventually he talked himself into getting up and putting his dish in the sink. He spent a few minutes just staring down the hall at his bedroom door.

In his 20's, Ben had been part of Hux's antics more than his best friend likes to give him credit for. He's never used 'Kylo Ren' the way Hux would've if their roles were reversed. He'd even fired his long time manager not long ago because of it. When he first started his channel, he had almost been swayed to go in that direction with it. But he could only take the persona so far. It took him some time to realize it, but he still wanted to have parts of Ben Solo left when he turned the camera off. The bleed through was hard to maintain, and he'd made some mistakes he was still learning to live with. Some he'd probably spend the rest of his life trying to mend, if he ever had the courage to actually try and deal with any of it.

That was the thing Hux - or anyone else for that matter - would never understand. Not really. Hux had been one of the only people to actually witness him struggle through that time in his life. He'd encouraged Ben to fall into it; to do what his manager wanted. He still didn't know how their friendship survived that.

Ben snapped himself out of his thoughts, knowing that was not a spiral he wanted to go down today. "Damn it."

He knew he needed to get his mind off of it. He already hated the smug look Hux was going to have on his face when he showed up and Ben was actually dressed to go out.

When he reached his bedroom, he walked over to the closet and pulled out a black v-neck and a pair of black jeans. He knew it would only take him about 10 minutes to shower and get changed. It would still leave him with the better part of two hours to do some editing before Hux came looking for him.

It wasn't unusual for him to completely lose track of time when he was editing. He'd gone days without eating or sleeping before, and despite how much he hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing he had Hux around to bother him every couple of days to make sure he was still alive. At the moment, he had 3 videos recorded waiting to be edited and compressed. He tried to keep a pretty consistent upload schedule, considering it was where most of his income came from; well, the income he felt comfortable using.

Before he realized it, Hux was barging into his apartment. "Solo, I swear if I walk into that bedroom and you aren't-"

He didn't even have time to finish his sentence before he burst into the room. Ben swiveled around in his office chair to face him. It took all of Ben's restraint not to burst out laughing at the look on Hux's face. He looked so genuinely shocked, like he assumed he was going to have to drag Ben out of his apartment to get him to go out.

"Am I dead? I must have died on my way over to your flat because you're actually dressed and ready to go out like I told you to be." Hux said. "You have your good blazer on and everything!"

Ben smirked, enjoying the reaction he was getting out of him. "Don't make me regret this decision before we even leave my apartment."

"No. No way. Come on, let's go. You're not getting out of this now." Hux replied, reaching over and pulling Ben to stand up and practically dragging him out of the apartment.

"This is going to be a loongggg night." Ben mumbled to himself as he shut and locked the door behind them.

[oh-so-scenarios]

Tell me...Say It [4]

Word Count: 4.5K

Genre/Warning: Angst, **mentions of death, fluff, Yoongi x  Female Reader, CEO AU, Pianist AU

A/N: Please excuse the errors, there are quite a bit.

⇾ Updates on Sundays 

Previous | Next ◀ ▶  Series Index | Masterlist

♫

I sit in the leather couch that was set in the middle of our big living room. My eyes were trained on the 13-inch MacBook air that rested on my lap. I was focused enough to barely tune out Da-hee’s loud voice. Barely.

“Y/N! Why do I feel like you’re not listening?” She accuses. I sigh and look up at her from under my eyelashes. I look back down at my laptop screen, typing up the reply to an email from an old high school friend.

“It’s because I’m not listening.” I finally reply resuming my typing. I can’t help but smirk at the groan of irritation that leaves her lips.

“Y/n, seriously, that was so embarrassing!”

My brows furrow at her words, “What was embarrassing about it? And since when do you care about what Mina thinks?”

She shakes her head, “Not Mina! Yoongi! The guy that was sitting at the piano.”

I nod my head slowly feeling like I should have known better. Da-Hee was basically drooling when I dragged her out of the music school. Though the ride home was filled with her bursts of anger, she mumbled the man’s name to herself a few times.

Yoongi….Yoongi. Where have I seen him before? I stop my typing, anxiously searching my mind to match his face to another memory. I have totally seen him before. You don’t forget a handsome face like his.

I start typing again, only for an image to appear in my mind. I gasp out loud, my hand coming up to my mouth out at the realization.

“What?” Da-hee hisses, “Did the whole incident replay in your head? Do you finally understand how crazy you looked?”

“No,” I dismiss her statement, “I remember where I’ve seen that man, Yoongi, from.”

Da-hee demeanor changes. She raises her nose up at me and crosses her arms.

“You’ve met him before?” She seems curious for my answer, watching my reaction intently.

“Yes,” I almost laugh, “Remember that blind date you had me go to?”

Da-hee groans and throws her head back. She puts her hand on her face before running her fingers through her tangled and frizz bed hair. I was wondering why she woke up so early today. Was it just to yell about me about the incident from 3 days ago? She’s been doing it every day since, but must she start from the morning?

She stands in front of me in a long and large black tee shirt. The letters “FG” pasted on it in big white font. Her morning slippers on her feet while she stomped them around out of frustration.

“That was him?” She cries, “Really? Y/n don’t mess with me! I’m not in the mood this morning!”

I lean back at her words, “Yet you’re in the mood to bother me? I am not lying. It was him! I told you he was cute didn’t I?”

“Damn,” She mutters under breath, “I didn’t know he was that cute.”

I look away from her emotional break down to open a new tab in my internet browser. I decided to find some videos on youtube to watch. I’m thinking that Da-hee will make an overdramatic exit out of the room like always, but she remains in her spot.

“Y/n, we’re still discussing this.” She informs me.

“There is nothing to discuss. You don’t need me, you can still make costumes for their play. It has nothing to do with me.”

“But imagine if I told them I convinced you to work with them! That would put me in a good spot with Yoongi.”

I scoff at her argument, “You want me to do this so you can get a guy to like you? Why don’t you try winning him over with your personality? Or your looks like you usually do?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

Her argument isn’t strong at all, and the pestering she’s doing won’t help her case. Before she could speak anymore, I cut off her words.

“Da-hee, you already know I don’t play piano anymore. I don’t compose anymore, period. What made you think I would let them use my work, let alone work with them?”

“But you love music! You love the piano, and you’re amazing at playing. You have to start back up eventually.”

“Says who?” I snap harshly.

“So you’re never going to play the piano again?” Da-hee sounds surprised. Didn’t she know that was always the plan? What was she thinking?

“Yes,” I answer simply.

An exhausted sigh leaves her lips, “Y/n...everyone knows you were born to play the piano! You know that! Are you telling me you don’t miss it?”

“I’m telling you that I am not going to help with that play.” I corrected.

“Jeez, when will you move on?” She whispers to herself. I find myself slamming my laptop shut, glaring at her with wild eyes.

“My parents died, Da-hee. You don’t get to speak to me like that.” The words leave my mouth like they were poison. Da-hee stares back at me with sad eyes.

“I know that Y/n...but damn, you’re still living aren’t? Well...just barely living.” She turns around and stalks out the room, her slippers squeaking against the wooden floor. I am left alone with my thoughts and the silence.

It almost feels like the silence is a hard hit in the face after Da-hee’s words. Just barely living. Why is that statement causing such a heaviness in my chest? I stare blankly at the space that Da-hee once stood in. My mind moves back to my 16-year-old self, the painful memories forcing their way into my mind space.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Mina said as she smiled at me. Her hands rested on her pregnant belly and I couldn’t help but smile back nervously.

I stood backstage at the Piano Composing Championship. This was a big deal, or at least that’s what everyone says. All these competitions were nothing to me. As long as I got to plan my music, and have it meet people’s ears... I didn’t complain. I looked towards the grand stage where a young boy sat at the black grand piano.

He was younger than me, yet he played beautiful, his piece showing the freshness of being young. It was clear in the way his fingers bounced off the keys and dancing gracefully.

I exhaled and leaned forward enough to see the front row of the audience where two seats remained empty. I stared in disappointment, expecting to see my parents there.

I turned away from the stage to look at Mina. She looked back at me expectantly, “What’s up darling?”

I stretch my hand out, “Can I have my phone, please? I would like to call my parents.”

Without any protests, Mina hands me my phone after digging it out of her purse. She was holding it for me, seeing as my plain red dress had no pockets. I am thankful to my parents who always drive crazy distances for my performances.

After moving to South Korea because of my father’s military duties, I wasn’t expecting to meet Miss Mina who further helped me grow my piano skills. Since I was younger I showed an interest in music and instruments. My mother would often take me to the community center and let me play on the grand piano that sat in the lobby. It was decoration, however, no one ever complained when they saw a young me playing.

Once we got the news that we were moving to South Korea, my mother moved quickly to find my a teacher, which is how I met Miss Mina...it has been years now and we have come far. Here I am at the Championship of this huge competition. There are contestants from all over the world, of all ages and I am one of them.

Music has always been second nature for me. Since I can remember, I have always had music playing in my head. Whether I was doing school work, sleeping, or just sitting with my thoughts. I always had music playing in the background of my mind. Sometimes creating my own pieces in my head, waiting to write it down to play.

Is this why they were calling me a genius? I can’t be sure.

My parents were my number one fans, always doing their best to be at my performances and competitions. The championship was far from home, requiring quite a drive. Despite the snow falling outside, they promised to be at the championship. That’s why it’s odd to see their seats empty.

I dialed their numbers and waited as the phone rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Hey dad, I’m going up next and I saw that you’re not here yet. It’s okay if you can’t make it. Miss Mina will record it! See you soon!”

That day was the last time I heard music in the background of my thoughts. After that day it’s like the lights cut off and the piano grew out of tune. The music that played in my head was sad, out of tune pieces that sounded of death and agony.

I never touched another piano. I had the grand piano bought for me and customized for me by my parents moved out of the house. I have no idea what happened to it and I don’t care. I won the championship, but what was the title and trophy worth at that point? The snow was too heavy, causing my parents to get into a car accident, leaving me alone in this world.

What is the point of music now? Stupid piano. Stupid competition. Stupid music teacher. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

Mr. & Mrs. Kim didn’t let me be alone for long, opening their home to me without hesitation. I was no longer alone, surrounded by people who love and care about me.  The pain never fully goes away. I have my bad days, and I have my good days. The people around me always tell me that the music would come back. The lovely melodies what always circled my mind would return as things get better.

And have they? I don’t know because I’ve never tried to pursue music again.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I heard Mrs. Kim’s soft voice.

“Oh, Y/n.” She calls gently. I snap out of my trance, my gaze moving to meet her eyes. My tears blurred my vision so I couldn’t see her clearly, but the sad look in her eyes was apparent.

I force a smile on my eyes, quickly ducking my head to wipe my tears.

“Sorry.” I croak, “I just got lost in my thoughts.”

“Oh darling, don’t apologize.” She coos almost running towards me. She moves my laptop to the side and sits beside me. She hugs me my from the side while I lay my head on her shoulder sniffling.

“You haven’t had a moment like this in a while...is everything okay?” She asks after some heavy moments of silence.

“Yeah,” I say, “I was asked to help with the music for a musical.”

Mrs. Kim didn’t reply right away, she thinks for some time. She wants to approach this topic carefully.

“Okay...and how do you feel about that?”

I shrug, “I can’t do it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” When I don’t reply, Mrs. Kim sighs and continues to speak.

“Y/n, have you ever thought that the reason you still feel so...empty is because you never went back to music?”

“I don’t think that’s it…” I reply softly.

“Darling, I am worried about you. These days it’s like watching a lifeless being go about a routine. Work, eat, sleep and repeat. It’s concerning. Maybe getting that music back is what you need to do to complete your grieving.” She says honestly.

I can’t help but roll my eyes at her words. Mrs. Kim removes her hands from around me to put them up.

“I am just saying what I think,” She reminds me, “I think...I think this could be good. Don’t you?”

“No,” I answer plainly still sniffling.

Her shoulders fall in disappointment, “Well...I can’t force you, darling. I can only tell you what I think.”

“Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Kim.” I smile weakly, trying to prove myself in better condition.

“I’m always here Y/n, so If you ever need anything, tell me.” She places a hand on my head in an act of affection before standing up and walking out the living room.

I let myself fall back into the couch. This is how I am spending my day off? Sulking? Being sad for myself? If Mina had destroyed my work like I asked, this wouldn’t have happened.

I closed my eyes and eventually fall asleep.

Yoongi parks his car in the half-empty parking garage, before placing his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. He stares out at the parking garage contemplating his options. His fingers begin to drum his steering wheel as he works his nerves up.

“Yoongi.” The voice beside him snaps Yoongi out his train of thought. He groans and closes his eyes. The peace and silence he had only lasted for a moment.

He forgot that Taehyung sat beside him in his car. Taehyung unlike Yoongi, was ready to put the plan in action. Taehyung didn’t want to think about it too much or else he would second guess himself. He is the one who suggested such an idea, but they were becoming desperate.

It’s been 5 days since the incident at Mina’s music school. The sheet music has not been destroyed but has been moved to Yoongi’s office at the company building. It all remains in the cardboard box it was found in. He can’t throw it away, he can’t.

So here he is, sitting in the parking lot of the hospital Y/n works at.

After doing some research Yoongi was able to find videos of Y/n at competitions and performances. All he can say is...amazing. He couldn’t find any articles or information on her reason for stopping and he was curious about her.

Though she stormed in angry, her beauty didn’t go unnoticed. He had his mind wrapped around her and her music for the last few days. It didn’t take him very long to realize that the woman who walked into his blind date with scrubs on was Y/n.

He smiled to himself just thinking about how she strolled in with such a relaxed attitude. Scrubs, slip-resistant shoes, and a tired look on her face. She walked right in and apologized on behalf of Da-hee, clearly tired from a day of work.

Yet at that moment, he remembers thinking, what a beauty. A beautiful who creates such beautiful music. The creative block he has been in for the last few months is on the brink of a breakthrough but...he needs her to get past this. He just knows it.

That is why he agreed to Taehyung’s idiotic plan. Taehyung suggested just talking to her calmly while she is on break. Jimin told them that he usually takes his break the same time she does.

“Hyung, come on. Let’s just go, say our say and leave it.” Taehyung opens the car door and steps out before Yoongi can say anything. Yoongi turns off the engine following suit. He walks behind Taehyung, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He’s wearing the suit he entered the office with this morning.

They entered the hospital, and make their way to the floor Jimin told them Y/n is usually in. As they stand in the elevator Yoongi keeps his eyes on the floor.

“What do you think she’ll say?” Taehyung asks curiously.

Yoongi looks at his friend’s eager expression, “You want my honest opinion?”

Taehyung nods.

The doors of the elevator open and Yoongi pushes himself off the way he was leaning on.

“I think she’ll tell us to fuck off.” He states as he steps out the elevator. He didn’t see Taehyung’s downcast expression, but he was expecting just that. She seems very straight to the point. She won’t entertain something she won’t do. He can tell this just from their two interactions.

Yoongi walks up to the first desk he sees, Taehyung trailing behind him. He ignores the small gasp on the woman’s lips as her eyes twinkle at the two men’s appearance. The nurse smiles at Yoongi and bats her eyelashes.

“Hello sir, how may I help you?” She speaks softly. Yoongi’s eyes look around the hospital floor before answering.

“Is Y/n around?” Yoongi says looking at the nurse at the desk. Her brows furrow a bit.

“Y/n?” She repeats. She turns around to ask the other nurse where Y/n is but doesn’t get a chance.

“What about me?” Y/n calls out as she walks around the corner. Her feet halt when she lays eyes on Yoongi and Jimin.

“Ugh.” She groans and rolls her eyes, “Why are you two here?”

“Y/n, hi,” Yoongi says nervously. Taehyung seems to notice his friend’s slightly flustered state but decides not to speak just yet.

“We’re sorry to bother you...we just wanted to speak to you again, under calmer terms,” Yoongi explains.

Y/n looks at Taehyung who flashes her a small smile. She looks back at Yoongi, not hiding the way her eyes moved down to his feet and back up to him. The two men sit in that strained silence, ignoring the other doctors and nurses that buzzed around them.

Y/n huffs and turns around to head to the elevator. She doesn’t say a word as she steps in the elevator. She doesn’t say anything when the two men also stepping into the same elevator they just walked out of. The silver elevator doors begin to close and Y/n takes out her phone from the pocket of her scrub shirt.

Taehyung leans over to peak at her phone, “What are you doing?” Taehyung asked curiously.

Y/n keeps her eyes forward when she answers, “Getting ready to call the police once we step off this elevator.”

Yoongi almost laughs at her reply. She’s funny.

“Wait, Y/n! Let’s not be hasty! We’re not stalking you or anything, we just wanted to speak to you.” Taehyung explains.

“Yeah right. Let me guess, Dr. Park told you when I go on break? You’re lucky I don’t have my pepper spray on me.” She hisses at Taehyung. The elevator doors open to bring them to the first floor of the hospital.

“Where are you headed for lunch?” Yoongi asks, “I can give you a ride.”

“It’s just the sandwich shop across the street, there is no need.” Y/n denies his offer. Yoongi just nods, keeping up to walk beside her. Taehyung is walking on her other side, strolling like they’re two friends going for lunch. Y/n stays quiet all the way up to the door of the sandwich shop.

Taehyung opens the door for her and steps in not before uttering a little, “Thank you.”

She orders her food while the two men sit at a table near a window. She denied their offer to pay so while Y/n was ordering, they came up with a game plan.

“So we just tell her everything honestly. Tell her that we’ll pay her, she’ll be credited..or won’t if she doesn’t want to be. Just don’t ask her why she stopped playing.” Yoongi says to Taehyung. Taehyung nods, agreeing with the plan.

It’s not long before Y/n sits down with her sandwich but doesn’t make a move to eat. She leans back in her chair with an irked look on her face.

“Well, speak.”

“Oh-” Taehyung started, “So I want to start by saying, it was never our intention to use your music without asking. We found your music by mistake as well. Yoongi played it and it felt like my heart was soaring. The pieces were beautiful. So I am working on a musical, which if successful, could bring in a lot of money and help propel many careers.”

Y/n’s face didn’t change much. She sits and listens to Taehyung speaking.

“We don’t want to keep bothering Y/n, but we do want you to know that your music is beautiful. I want your music to be part of the musical. I actually want your music for the whole musical. Yoongi wants to work with you, and Jimin is eager to write lyrics. Our intentions are not ill, Y/n. We want to work with you and collaborate with you.” Taehyung wraps up his words.

Y/n looks over to Yoongi, “What do you have to say?”

“I agree with everything Taehyung said. I want to work with you to make this musical something great.”

“Mhh.” That is all that Y/n says.

“W-we are going to be at Mina’s Music school on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Please think about it Y/n?” Taehyung adds. Y/n doesn’t respond but lets the men know she is done with the conversation when she leans forward and grabs her sandwich to eat.

“Thank you so much for at least hearing us out,” Yoongi says as the men stand out of their chairs. Y/n nods, the irritated look on her face not changing at all.

Y/n sat in her car staring at the music school. The lights were on, but the parking lot was almost empty. There were one or two cars parked on the further end of the parking lot. She sits there staring at the building. She drove herself here, but she’s not sure why. She doesn’t think it was the words of the two men from 3 days ago.

Maybe it’s Mrs. Kim’s words from almost a week ago that brought her, but she knows that it couldn’t have been her own mind that brought her here. The three men, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung weren’t present yet. She knew that because she doesn’t see Dr. Park’s fancy white Hyundai.

Her heart is beating against her rib cage and her nerves have her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Her shaky hands sat in her lap, while the cold of the outdoors began to leak into her car, seeing as she turned the engine off.

She opens the door and takes a step out. She closes the car door and slowly makes her way to the school. Deciding to come on her day off was the right choice. If she made her way here after work, she would convince her tired self to turn around.

Just like before, she strolls down the hallway passing many classrooms with grand pianos. She doesn’t make it to the room she stormed into last time because something stops her in her tracks. A cracked down that showed a preview of a room that doesn’t look used.

She stops walking, pushing the door wider to find something that was covered with a big grey sheet. The sun was setting and the few rays that shined through the opened window exposed the dust floating in the room. Also scared to step into the room, Y/n looks around the room.

Unlike the other practice rooms, there were no posters, no stands or even sheet music left behind. She steps closer into the room, realizing that it was a piano covered in a big grey sheet. She stops walking again, leaving her in the space between the door and the covered piano.

Y/n had thoughts of turning around, not knowing what led her to this room when a voice spoke causing her jump.

“Of course this is where you find yourself.”

Y/n spins around to find Mina leaning against the door frame. She has a small smile on her face, her bob pulled into a ponytail while her bangs rest on her forehead.

“I-I was just leaving.” Y/n defends ready to leave.

As if she didn’t hear Y/n, Mina continues to speak, “It’s almost like your soul knew where it was and led you here.”

Y/n’s brows furrow at her words, a bit confused by what she meant. She wordlessly walks into the room. Y/n steps out of her way, watching as she bends down, grabbing the bottom of the grey sheet.

She walks to the opposite side of the room, slowly uncovering the piano. Dust was flying in the air caused Y/n to cough a bit. Y/n was ready to complain when her eyes landed on the black 2000 Yamaha C-1 grand piano.

Her eyes widen and her body freezes. Mina watches as Y/n approached the familiar piano on shaky legs. At that moment Mina felt like she was looking at the 16-year old Y/n.

Y/n blinked back tears as she stood in front of the piano. Her piano...the piano her parents worked hard to buy her. So this is where it’s been. She reached out a shaky hand and slowly placed it on the fallboard. She slowly pulls up the fallboard revealing the white and black keys. She sits on the bench trying to collect her swarming thoughts.

Y/n slowly lets her fingers graze the keys, not pressing down to emit any noise. She looks up from the keys at the wooden music rack. Her eyes settle on the words professionally printed on the music rack.

To our lovely daughter, Y/n.

Y/n has her fingers touch the golden text, inhaling deeply as the huge weight that has been sitting on her chest all these years seems to disappear.

When she exhales it comes out as a choked sob, tears streaming down her face. Sobs begin to leave her lips, sounding throughout the room. She brings her hands to her chest and hunches over the piano letting the tears run down her cheeks and off the tip of her nose, dripping onto the keys.

Her whole body shook as she cried.

Mina who also has tears running down her cheeks slowly back out the room and begins closing the door just in time for the 3 men walking down the hallway to catch a glimpse of Y/n.

Mina closes the door, meeting the 3 pairs of curious eyes. Mina’s own face flushed with red eyes yet beaming with a big smile.

“Don’t worry about her,” She almost whispers, “She’ll be fine. Just leave her be.” With those words, she walks back down the hallway to her office.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung all stand out the door for a moment, the sound of sobs leaking through the dense wooden door. They don’t stand out there for long, heading towards their regular meet up room with Yoongi’s piano.

Y/n can’t be sure how long she sat there emptying out all these feelings. She can’t be sure where she has been keeping all this...hurt for so long but it felt like a purge of baggage.

Once her crying stopped, she leaned her head on the fallboard of the grand piano. Her eyes were closed as she worked on catching her breath. She was so exhausted, she debated falling asleep on the floor. She stayed in that position, now sitting in the dark because the sun had set and the lights weren’t turned on in the room.

As she sat there listening to her own breathing a beautiful melody began to fill her...ears? Y/n’s eyes snapped open. No, this music was not being played away and she definitely hadn’t heard this anywhere before.

She slowly sat up, staring at the dimly lit white keys of her piano. The moon gave enough light for her to barely make them out.

The music...the continuous melodies in her head.

It’s back.

[bokura-no-ua]

Inktober - Day 14: Fierce

Characters: All Might (Yagi Toshinori), Ashido Mina, Uraraka Ochako, Yaoyorozu Momo, Hagakure Tooru, Asui Tsuyu, Jirou Kyouka, Eraserhead (Aizawa Shouta), Midnight (Kayama Nemuri), Present Mic (Yamada Hizashi), Nezu Rating: G Other Tags: U.A. Teachers are all dorks who like teasing Aizawa a little too much, All Might is a good friend, All Might Being Soft, Aizawa likes cats, Animal hoodies

Art by Kumi and story by Red. Read it on AO3! Please, do not repost anywhere.

Toshinori was walking down the halls of U.A., feeling content after a hard day’s work.

The students were progressing really well, slowly getting the hang of controlling their quirks and using the environment to their advantage. It was incredibly satisfying to witness.

He was just about to turn a corner to head to the teacher’s lounge for a cup of tea before sitting down to write some reports on what exercises his students had engaged in earlier that afternoon when he heard excited voices inside the 1-A classroom.

He frowned. He thought all of them had already gone to the dorms for the day.

“Okay, so does everyone have one?” Toshinori recognised young Ashido’s cheerful voice rising above the others’.

“No,” young Uraraka replied. “Bakugou-kun’s hasn’t arrived and Iida-kun hasn’t even bought his yet. Apparently, he can’t seem to choose between a kangaroo and a bear.”

“But wasn’t the bear one taken already?” young Asui asked all of a sudden.

“I think Tsuyu-chan is right. Isn’t Kouda-san’s a bear?” Young Yaoyorozu’s chimed in.

“Let’s go back and sort this out,” young Jirou offered, putting an end to the discussion.

Toshinori heard shuffling and the scraping of chairs being pulled back in place and he ran to the corner to hide. He couldn’t have any students see his true form, after all. If they found out he had been eavesdropping on a group of female students’ private conversation, the situation could escalate rather quickly.

Despite the fact that they were going the opposite direction, their voices still carried down the large, empty hall.

“Could someone explain to me how this whole kigurumi sleepover thing came to be?” young Hagakure asked the group.

“Oh, right, you were sick after playing around in the rain a week ago and had to miss a few days of class!” young Uraraka commented.

“Yes, Ojiro-kun hasn’t stopped teasing me since.”

“Well, if you really want to know...” young Yaoyorozu started, only to be interrupted by young Ashido.

“It was his idea in the first place!” A few gasps were heard, but young Ashido continued unabashed, “What? She deserves to know, don’t you think? Especially since it was all a plan to cheer her up!”

“Oh my goodness, Ashido-san! You shouldn’t have said anything! Ojiro-san went through so much trouble to try and keep the real reason a secret!” young Yaoyorozu said.

“She was going to find out sooner or later, but I’m sure she’s happy to know. Right, Hagakure-chan?”

Their voices were becoming faint so Toshinori knew he was in the clear when he heard them going down the stairs.

He breathed a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. He should really be more careful in the future.

As he glanced around the hall, he decided to just forego the cup of tea at this point and made his way to his own room, ready to tackle the long list of reports he needed to write by the end of the week.

But, however hard he tried to focus, his mind kept going back to the girls’ conversation.

What were they talking about? It seemed to be about animals at first, but then they mentioned some kigurumi?

After a few minutes of pointless staring at the mostly empty document on the screen of his laptop, Toshinori gave in and opened a new tab on his browser.

He quickly typed the word he thought he had heard and was met with thousands upon thousands of, mainly, retail shops which sold these sorts of… onesies with hoodies?

The more he scrolled down the first few sites in the list of results, the more he understood what his students meant. The designs were definitely cute and he certainly saw the appeal of being wrapped up in such cozy-looking fabrics. He could easily see himself sleeping in one of these.

His eyes were drawn to the fourth site on the list, though. This one sold only feline-related designs and there was even a “create your own kigurumi” option at the bottom of the page.

He hesitated for a couple of seconds, mouse hovering on the tantalising link, before clicking on it.

Just to see what it’s all about, he tried to convince himself.

All excuses went out the window as soon as he saw the colour wheel on the side, really. There were over two dozens of fake fur options, ear styles, tail with and without fur. The list seemed endless.

His eyes became glassy as he read every single item on the customisable list.

Without wasting another second, he started creating his very own kigurumi, seeing what worked well with what.

Needless to say, he never came back to the open document to write the reports.

Those could wait. Fashion could not.

To say that Toshinori was disappointed when his delivery arrived two weeks later would be an understatement.

Apparently, he had made a mistake in his order. When he was customising away the other day, he had clicked on the option of “hoodie” thinking the kigurumi wouldn’t have one if he didn’t.

But no. It meant that the design he had created got made into an actual, regular-sized hoodie instead of a kigurumi.

He had been so excited about it! When he calculated when the order would be delivered and realised the timing would be just perfect for Aizawa-kun’s birthday, he had spent an extra hour designing one for him, too.

And to think Aizawa-kun would’ve probably loved it. Toshinori had chosen a panther because he knew how much Aizawa-kun loved all cats, big or small, but also because it was the animal Toshinori associated with him the most.

The panther was stealthy, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for its prey to appear, which, to Toshinori, it was pretty much what Eraserhead did for a living. He was well-known for being a night patrol kind of hero, unlike Toshinori himself.

He sighed. It would have to do since he didn’t have enough time to order another one.

When Kayama-san approached Toshinori and told him the principal had organised a little something for Aizawa-kun’s birthday the next day, he was absolutely delighted.

Since November 8th ended up falling on a Wednesday this year, the get-together was really just a little dinner party over at the principal’s house.

Aizawa-kun was probably going to hate being the centre of attention, but Toshinori was sure his present was going to bring him some happiness at least. Maybe Toshinori could even get a smile out of him.

When all the teachers arrived and started preparing everything to surprise Aizawa-kun, they all agreed how hard it had been to shop for him and chatted about what they had ended up buying.

Toshinori refused to say anything about his purchase and couldn’t help but smile at his colleagues complaints as he set the table.

When Aizawa-kun arrived and they all jumped from behind the many pieces of furniture in the living room to scare him, his expression remained as stoic as ever.

“Would it kill you to act even the tiniest bit surprised?” Yamada-kun complained loudly.

“Why would I? You do this every year,” Aizawa-kun argued, his face showing signs of tiredness as always.

Nezu, perceptive as ever, suggested they had dinner first and opened presents later, so as to save Aizawa-kun from being the centre of attention for such an extended period of time.

And so they sat and chatted as they ate, everyone exchanging funny stories and things that had happened both inside and outside the school thse past couple of weeks.

It was a rather relaxing environment to be in, abandoning whatever worries he had at the door and just being with them like this, not as teachers or pro heroes, but as friends.

After a few more complaints from Yamada-kun, Aizawa-kun sighed in defeat and finally stood up and walked to the coffee table, where all of his gifts were waiting to be unwrapped. He took a seat on the sofa and opened box after box silently.

They all quickly gathered around him, getting excited in spite of the fact that Aizawa-kun’s features remained the same as he thanked everyone for their generosity. The only reaction was that of a raised eyebrow at the final box on the pile, Toshinori’s messy handwriting wishing him a happy birthday a clear contrast with the beige wrapping paper he had chosen.

He knew everyone expected something flashy from him, but he could dial that down for somebody else’s sake. This wasn’t about him; it was about Aizawa-kun, who was currently throwing the dull-looking paper on the floor with the rest and about to take the lid off the box.

At first, he said nothing as his gaze finally landed on the hoodie. But when he took it out of the box and saw the ears and the little detail of a paw on the zipper, his eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“Is this…?” Aizawa-kun started asking and raised his head, whatever he was about to say dying on his lips because, in that moment, Toshinori put on his own lion hoodie on.

“I got the idea when I overheard some students talking about kigurumi. Do you know what they are?” To which Aizawa-kun just nodded. “Good. Well, I wanted one, and then realised your birthday was just around the corner and thought, ‘Aizawa-kun would love a panther design!’ But then I made a mistake with the order and then, as you can see, it looks more like a regular black cat than an actual panther, and-”

Toshinori had a whole speech ready in apology for his silly mistake when Aizawa-kun stood up from the sofa, taking off his own jacket and replacing it with the gift Toshinori had given him.

Aizawa-kun was silent as he changed, but they all heard the words left unsaid: I love it, thank you.

Toshinori stood in awe, happy that his gift had been so well-received. Then, Kayama-san got her phone out, motioning for him to stand closer to Aizawa-kun, who was taking a closer look at the little paw.

“Hey, why don’t you pose for the camera? Make a little roar motion with you hand or something!” Yamada-kun suggested and, surprisingly, Aizawa-kun complied - although his expression did not change in the slightest.

Toshinori got near, thinking that Aizawa-kun had heard him and copied the pose with both hands, a happy smile on his face. Kayama-san snapped quite a few photos, babbling about how she would love to post them online. She still shared them in the chat group they had, their phones beeping and vibrating with notifications at the same time.

Just as Aizawa-kun took his phone out to look at the pictures, Toshinori approached him from behind and placed his arm around his shoulders. What Toshinori didn’t realise was that Aizawa-kun had no idea he was standing there and almost dropped his phone when he felt Toshinori’s heavy hand landing on his shoulder.

So, yeah, maybe Aizawa-kun was expecting the party all along but the accompanying yelp and look of pure horror he got from Toshinori’s unexpected surprise was just the best reaction they could’ve asked for.

[evanvanness]

Annotated edition of May 3 Week in Ethereum News

As it is wont to do, the newsletter buried the lede: ProgPoW is indefinitely shelved.

I think it’s been relatively clear since last time that ProgPoW wasn’t going to happen.  The leads of the two largest clients are against it personally, plus it’s quite clear that there isn’t anything close to community consensus. If anything, at the moment the majority of the community opposes it.  Greg Colvin bringing it up again last week unfortunately made it harder to do in the case where we do actually need it, ie an ASIC manufacturer has a 10x breakthrough but is only selling the machines privately to control 50%+ of the network.

I’d say it’s unclear whether ACD continues to be a thing.  To me it feels like an experiment which was worth trying but has become calcified, which needs a complete refresh in terms of both process and non-technical people involved.  But inertia is also a very strong force.  To overcome that, Ethereum should have a strong culture of continuously sunsetting things if they are not working.

One amusing thing to me has been the idea that ProgPoW is an AMD/Nvidia conspiracy.  Given that ETH price declining in 2018 absolutely destroyed their earnings and share price, those two should have been conspiring! Yet if they were, then they did an exceptionally bad job at it.  Instead everyone I know got the impression that the GPU manufacturers were indifferent.  There are some competing interests for them of course - the anger of their traditional gaming market, plus AI/neural net researchers - but it still surprises me how they did not get involved at all.

Despite the noise, Ethereum governance works!  I remember polling everyone I talked to at EthDenver2019 about whether they supported ProgPoW and (at the time I was pro-ProgPoW; I’d say my position is much more complicated now) being disappointed at how everyone I talked to was against it. 

I’m very glad we don’t have on-chain governance where a few exchanges/whales could collude to push things through.  Because of that, I’d say on-chain governance will drastically limit the market cap of any basechain’s native token.

Eth1

Latest core devs call. Tim Beiko’s notes. Updates on EIPs for eth2 curve, EVM subroutines. ProgPoW shelved due to clear lack of consensus. Discussion of migrating to binary trie

Analysis of EIP-2315 simple EVM subroutines

DHT+SkipGraph for chain and state data retrieval

Notes from the fee market change call

Vitalik’s EIP1559 fee market change FAQ

There’s a risk of being repetitive, but much of the eth1 work does not lend itself to high-level summaries.  Folks are discussing the technical details of EVM improvements (eg, subroutines), as well as getting clients to be stateless (eg the DHT and Skipgraph link).   And we’re also talking through EIP1559 in light of Dan Finlay’s escalator algo alternative proposal.  

One development not mentioned is that Martin Swende has come around to Alexey’s gas/oil proposal instead of his previous approach of penalties for trie misses.

Eth2

Latest what’s new in Eth2

Schlesi multi-client testnet launched with Lighthouse and (slightly updated) Prysmatic clients. Then Nimbus joined Schlesi a few days later.

Bitfly has a Schlesi explorer

Nimbus client update – up to date, joining Schlesi testnet, RFP for security audits, and benchmarking Nimbus on a 2018 midrange phone

Update from ConsenSys’s TXRX team: prkl network monitoring tool, verifiable precompiles, cross-shard tx simulator, fork choice testing, discv5 sim, and work on turning off proof of work.

A step-by-step guide on joining Prysmatic’s Topaz testnet for Windows10 and MacOS

ConsenSys’s high-level eth2 FAQ

I don’t really do corrections in the newsletter, because once you send an email, you can’t easily clarify your language without sending another email.

But, if you click the “Nimbus joined Schlesi,” then it appears to me that Nimbus is receiving the blocks and following the chain, but not proposing/attesting/etc. I probably should have been more clear when I said “joined.”

Layer2

Channels funding channels: how state channels reduce latency and onchain transactions

This series feels to me like a “yes, state channels are almost here now, let’s get ready to reconsider how to use them.”   Productionizing any new technology isn’t easy, and finding the uses that best fit the tradeoffs is not trivial.  Seems like this is that series.

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I’m very excited that Week in Ethereum News will continue for the next year due to Chainlink, Celer, Trail of Bits, and 0x.

Stuff for developers

buidler v1.3 – test time-based cases in Buidler EVM, works with TheGraph

Waffle’s plan for making testing better with v3

Testing with Python and Brownie

Typechain v2 – Typescript bindings. truffle v5 support, natspec

Solidity docgen v0.5 – documentation generation for Solidity project

Running async/await scripts in Remix IDE

Austin Griffith’s scaffold-eth, a toolkit to prototype and win hackathons

A linked hashmap in Solidity

How to add proxy Ethereum addresses to BigQuery

Authereum’s batched transactions API for interest rate arbs

discv5 feasibility study for Status

Tutorial to testing on mainnet fork with Ganache, Jest and Uniswap

Etheroll security issue: hacker monitoring for onchain forks and then uses that info to frontrun transactions. Novel (to me!) hack

Dragonfly releases an oracles tracker

Synthetix CTO Justin Moses on 10 things they did to improve their Ethereum development experience. tldr: Buidler, Slither, TheGraph, and Tenderly.

It feels like a very undercommented trend how most devs now tell me that their stack is Buidler + Waffle + ethers, and increasingly Typescript as well.  Of course, dev tool stacks are perpetually in flux, but this seems to be the stack du jour.  

This isn’t new either.  After writing the paragraph above, I remembered that Connext’s Rahul had written something about a similar stack 3 months ago.  I go back and check Rahul’s recommendation: Buidler + Waffle + Ethers + typescript.   If this was a chatbox, I would put a rofl emoji, but in prose this seems less appropriate.  

Ecosystem

Contribute to the TornadoCash trusted setup ceremony. It takes about 5 secs of clicking and requires you to leave the browser tab open a few minutes.

Multisigs controlling multisigs: Avsa’s vision for a usable web3

Renew your ENS names or you will lose them. Names start to expire May 4th

Forgive me the clickbait - you actually have 90 days grace period if your domain expired, but I don’t want anyone to miss this if their domain has expired.

If you haven’t contributed to Tornado’s trusted setup ceremony, I recommend that you do.  Assuming that the software works correctly, you can ensure that Tornado becomes trustless for you by participating!   It literally takes just a few seconds to start, and then you leave your browser tab open for about 3 minutes.  You can even contribute multiple times.

Enterprise

Hyperledger Besu v1.4.4, added priv_getLogs, added Splunk integration

Governance, DAOs, and standards

Governance processes for Maker and Compound add WBTC to Maker and USDT to Compound. TBTC also proposed for Maker

Maker’s MIPs ratification vote is live

MetaClan: DAOs for in-game coordination

ERC2611: Geotimeline Contact Tracing Data Standard

Last call: ERC1363 Payable Token

Last call: EIP1193 Eth provider Javascript API

ERC 2612: permit, 712-signed approvals

EIP2357: Total difficulty in block header

Lots of blowback to Maker adding WBTC.  I very much understand the criticism, but to me it looks like Maker is taking reasonable measures, given the current situation where DAI is trading a little rich on the peg.  It’s true that permissioned assets have some risk, but this is literally why MKR is supposed to have value: because those MKR holders make good decisions.

Now perhaps you don’t like that model, and that also makes sense, designing for stablecoins is a large solution space.  But this has always been the Maker vision.  And I say this as someone who does not hold any MKR, and never has (though you’re welcome to give me some!).

Application layer

DeFiZap and DeFiSnap merged to be ZapperFi: now track and trade your DeFi together

Gnosis Safe apps: interact with apps straight from the Gnosis Safe interface

dforce/lendfme plan post-hack: user airdrop, dSAFU insurance fund, large bug bounty

OpenBazaar now supports Eth

A rough proposal for a GasToken forward

Everest: a project registry from TheGraph and MetaCartel

I know I have said this before, but the ebb and flow between sections is fascinating to me.  The stuff for devs section was full this week, but the app layer was a little light.  Maybe I just missed stuff.

Arbitrary “how much of this section is DeFi” count: 3/6

Tokens/Business/Regulation

UMA did an Initial Uniswap Offering, and there was a 5-10x spike

It appears Telegram will have to return $1.2 billion to investors

Ideo’s Simple Agreement for Future Governance for DeFi

Auditing the 10k top Eth addresses: ETH is better distributed than BTC and a bunch of other interesting claims

I again note that US federal regulators continue to bailout Silicon Valley investors from the worst deals that Silicon Valley did in late 2017/early 2018.  

I’d say it’s inevitable that we’re going to see some folks copy UMA.  Watch for it.

Adam Cochran’s onchain activity of top 10k addresses is very interesting.  Definitely some undersupported claims in there, but certainly worth a read.  This is the second time he wrote a 100+ tweetstorm and then compiled it to a blog post.  Personally I prefer viewing it as a blog post.

General

EtherScan Connect: an alpha for mapping addresses with a leaderboard

a16z raises $515m crypto fund

Vitalik’s review of Gitcoin grants round 5

SuperMarlin: no trusted setup with DARK polynomial commitment

“alpha for mapping addresses with a leaderboard“ is another thing I could have said more eloquently.   It’s an interesting attempt by Etherscan to give something to their community, though of course it comes with risks.

There’s something amusing about a16z announcing a new fund, mentioning Bitcoin, and then mostly talking about the stuff that’s being built on Ethereum, without actually mentioning Ethereum.   People like to talk about being contrarian investors.  Wanna know how buying ETH is somehow still a contrarian play in crypto right now?  It’s right there.

zk continues to just explode.  It almost seems like plug and play, where people are pulling out the parts of different schemes that they like and putting in others, depending on the tradeoffs you want around trusted setups, verifier time, prover cost, etc.

Housekeeping

First issue post-ConsenSys. As a reminder, this newsletter is and has always been 100% owned by me.

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Permalink: https://weekinethereumnews.com/week-in-ethereum-news-may-3-2020/

Dates of Note

Upcoming dates of note (new/changes in bold):

May 6-20 – Gitcoin’s virtual hackthon

May 8-9 – Ethereal Summit (NYC)

May 22-31 – Ethereum Madrid public health virtual hackathon

May 29-June 16 – SOSHackathon

June 17 – EthBarcelona R&D workshop

[thetwoplayergays]

Prompt: Jeremy kissed/made out with Brooke and Chloe when he was squiped and now Michael is embarrassed because he hasn't kissed anyone yet. And so he looks "how to kiss" in wikihow, doesn't delete the history and Jeremy finds out. (The part of searching it in wikihow it's meh, I just want Jeremy to find out and be like "dude, you don't have to worry. I'm sure you kiss alright) and then they kiss. Ahhhh, I'd love you even more if you do it.

Sorry it took so long (._.) Here you go;; Thank you for the prompt!

“Hey dude can you grab me a soda while you’re up and moving?” Yelled Jeremy from across the room, too lazy to move from his fixed position on the beanbag. 

“Since when was I your maid?” Michael joked, tossing his best friend an ice cold soda nonetheless. “I’ll be right back, don’t play without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeremy muttered in response whilst taking a small sip of his drink. The two boys had just spent the last few hours clearing floors off of a DLC of Apocalypse of the Dammed Michael had managed to find in the old retro game shop down the street. Within half a day the boys had almost gotten through the whole game but given their poor diet of mountain dew and chips the two often had to pause for bathroom breaks and refills, slowing their overall progress down.

Jeremy set down his drink and looked up at the ceiling in contemplation. It had been a month or so since the Squip incident and everything had virtually settled down. Jeremy had gained a bunch of new friends from the experience, despite how traumatic it had been. This included Christine, a girl on whom Jeremy had lusted for years. The two had tried to date, they really did, but it was soon apparent that despite how well they got along together, they only saw each other as close friends. When Jeremy had told Michael that night, his friend assumed the worst, instantly offering to come over with a horde of junk food and movies to distract him. Surprisingly for both boys, Jeremy felt great. He assured Michael that nothing was wrong and that he was the happiest he had been in a while, and strangely, he didn’t miss the slight change in Michael’s tone of voice, almost as if he was smiling sweetly over the phone. 

Jeremy didn’t miss the soft blush on his best friend’s cheeks whenever he complimented him.

And Jeremy certainly didn’t miss his sinking face whenever he talked about his time with Brooke or Chloe, despite how much he hated to think about it. 

As the weeks went on, Jeremy payed close attention to his friend. He had never really asked about Michael’s love life before, mainly because of his assumption that Michael didn’t have one. It slowly occurred to him how he had never even asked if Michael was straight. After Rich had so openly revealed his new-found sexuality, Jeremy began to ponder his own. He was attracted to females, there was no doubt about that, but what if he-

“Dude do you need a refill?” Michael’s voice interrupted, cutting Jeremy off from his train of thought. He looked over at the bowl in front of him which was indeed empty. 

“That would be appreciated,” he bounced back. Turning his attention to the TV screen he remembered that they had been stuck on a particular level for quite some time. It was definitely a tricky one, it required a lot of thinking - something that neither boys possessed at 1am. Remembering that Michael was upstairs getting food, Jeremy looked over at the computer that had been moved from upstairs into the basement for convenience purposes. He knew Michael hated looking up how to win a level but it was late and the boys really wanted to finish this game tonight while they were still into it. 

‘A quite peek won’t hurt’ Jeremy convinced himself as he slowly got up and shifted his way to the computer. Heaving himself onto the chair, he swivelled the mouse to awake the screen, he knew Michael normally just left it on. The browser pooped up suddenly, making Jeremy squint at the sudden change in light. As his eyes began to readjust, he processed the website in front of him. Before he could open a tab to search for what he wanted, the title of the page sank in:

‘How to kiss: Wikihow’  

Jeremy stared at it for a couple more seconds before convincing himself that this was something Michael must have accidentally clicked on while scrolling through facebook or something like that. He clicked the back arrow key to try to return to the social media but instead a google search was opened:

‘how do u kiss?’

He blinked in disbelief, clicking again. Another search came up:

‘can u learn how to kiss?’

He clicked again:

‘teenage kissing help’

And again:

‘how do u kiss a boy?’

‘how do u kiss straight boys?’

‘i think i want to kiss a boy’

‘how to know u have a crush’

‘do i have a crush?’

‘i think im crushing on my straight best friend’

The last one made Jeremy stop frantically clicking and instead choosing to read the search over and over again. There was no denying this was Michael, his best friend never used proper grammar when typing - it used to drive Jeremy insane. He stared at the last search for god knows how long with a million questions flying through his brain. Jeremy didn’t know why, but he started to giggle. The more he read the sentence, the funnier it got. 

“What’s so funny?” 

The voice snapped Jeremy right out of his hysterical laughter. He turned to see his best friend smiling, holding a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. 

“Care to share?” He asked again, a small chuckle escaping his lips. 

Jeremy didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt the urge to stand up. Leaving the opened tabs behind, he walked across the room before stopping right in front of Michael. His hands seemed to move on their own as he brought them up to meet his best friend’s cheeks and before either boy could process what was happening Jeremy was kissing Michael. 

It was different to when he kissed Chloe or Brooke. Back then it was forced and Jeremy only did it because he ‘needed’ to. It was rough and not enjoyable. But here, with Michael, it was sweet and quick. Jeremy could have stayed there for hours if Michael hadn’t dropped the bowl of popcorn in surprise, causing the sticky food to spill all over the floor. Jeremy broke the kiss after the bowl hit his foot, making him jump around in pain as Michael stood there still trying to process what was happening. He eventually realised that his best friend was in pain and rushed to get an ice pack.

“I’m not straight Michael.” Said Jeremy, breaking the awkward silence between the two. They had returned to the beanbags to let Jeremy sit down and heal his throbbing toe which was going numb from the coolness of the ice pack. 

Michael looked from his fixed gaze on the open computer browser which he had noticed just after the two boys settled. 

“But you-” He began before Jeremy cut him off.

“I’ve never really thought about it much, especially with my crush on Christine the thought was rarely brought to my attention,” Jeremy paused to sneak a peek at Michael, who was staring at him with his big chocolate eyes. Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What?”

“I can’t believe you actually looked up how to kiss someone”,” Jeremy sniggered, provoking a huff from Michael. 

“How else was I meant to learn, I couldn’t exactly ask you,” he complained. “Sorry, I should have talk to you about it sooner. I just- back when you were still with the Squip and dating Brooke. I felt… embarrassed ok? I thought that maybe now that you’ve had experience with others you would think that I’m a complete dork who isn’t worth hanging around with.”

Michael paused for a moment, locking eyes with Jeremy. He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off with another kiss. This time, both parties were ready and it lasted a little bit longer than their first. When the two broke apart, the two paused and just stared at each other, contempt with their presence. 

“So,” Michael said. “Are you going to clean up that crushed popcorn over there or are you going to teach how to kiss properly like a real boyfriend should do?”

“Boyfriend…” Jeremy muttered, inching closer to Michael in the process. “I think I like the sound of that.”

[geekprincess26]

The Snow: Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“Yes, Mother, I am fine,” Sansa insisted for the sixth time in perhaps ninety seconds.  She massaged her temple and forehead with the opposite fingers of her left hand while waiting for the next phase of Catelyn Stark’s interrogation to stop.

“You’re sure?  You just told me you weren’t checked out by a doctor, Sansa,” her mother responded in a tone that was every bit as disapproving as it was worried.

Sansa sighed.  “Only my car was hit, Mother, not me.”

Sansa could practically hear the other woman shaking her head through the silence that reigned for perhaps half a moment on the other end of the line.  “Yes, but you just said you were standing out in the cold for hours, Sansa.  Hypothermia is as real a concern in those temperatures as wounds from a car accident.”

Sansa let out a long sigh. “I ducked back into my car every so often.  The man who helped me with the traffic did the same thing.  And I can assure you I don’t have hypothermia.  It probably would have shown up in the past two days if I had.”

“That does not mean you didn’t have a real chance of something going wrong, Sansa Lynn,” replied Catelyn.  Sansa cringed, even though her mother rarely used her middle name any more.

“And yet it did not, because I am completely healthy and out of danger.”  Sansa was failing miserably at keeping the sharpness out of her tone, but ending the conversation without divulging any details about Jon was worth the risk of further baiting her mother.  “I’ll be back home as soon as I can, and don’t worry, I’ll wait until it’s safe to drive.”

“You rented a car, then?” The disapproval in Catelyn Stark’s tone thickened.

“No, Mother, I got a ride.” Sansa massaged her temple more vigorously.

“From whom?”  Her mother’s voice sharpened to as fine a point as her gaze no doubt would have been had Sansa been looking at her in person rather than speaking through the phone, and not for the first time, Sansa was grateful that Catelyn had never gotten the hang of FaceTime.

“The person I’m staying with now,” she replied, “where, as I mentioned, I am perfectly safe.”

“Good God, I hope you at least knew this person before the accident – ”  Catelyn’s voice rose with each word, and Sansa hastened to cut her off.

“Yes, Mother,” she said. “I’m staying with a friend.  I’ll take care of my car on the way back to Leeds. I’ll let you know as soon as I get back. For the moment – ” she raised her voice to cut off any protests from her mother – “I need to let my publicist know where I am so she can get the tabloids off their conspiracy theories about me.”

Catelyn Stark sighed. Sansa felt the disapproval from her eardrums to her toes.

“Very well,” said the older woman.  She may as well have added, I’m sure you prefer her company to that of your boring mother.

Once she had signed off, Sansa buried her head in her hands and groaned.  She still had two more phone calls to make, and the next call would incur even more interrogation than the first.  Sansa supposed she ought to thank her lucky stars, God, the universe, or all three that her mother did not know exactly where she was, but she knew she would not be able to withhold that detail from the recipient of her next call, and she was not mistaken.

“You’re at Jon’s flat? Back up and tell me how in the hell you got there, Sansa Stark, right now!”

Four minutes into Sansa’s FaceTime session with her best friend, Margaery Tyrell’s soprano screech, which matched her dramatically flabbergasted expression as well as her lipstick matched her dramatically arched eyebrows, flooded the bedroom and echoed off the walls yet again until Sansa’s ears rang.  Sansa winced and covered the offended organs with her hands until she could see that her friend had stopped vocalizing, at least for the moment.  Thank God Jon’s still in his room.

Sansa sighed.  “He came by just at the end of the officer taking my statement after the accident – ”

Margaery did a double take. “So the tabs had it almost half right? Wait – are you OK, Sansa?”

Sansa nodded.  “Yeah,” she replied.  Seeing the look on her friend’s face, she hastened to cut off the full-scale inquiry it foretold.  “I didn’t get hurt or anything.  I was just a witness.”

Margaery bit her lip and nodded.  “But you and Jon are OK?  I mean – with everything?”

Sansa nodded again.  “We can co-exist without going insane, Marg,” she said quietly.  Margaery arched an eyebrow at her, but Sansa offered nothing more.  

“All right.” Margaery’s eyebrow arched a bit more. “So what’s really going on?”

Sansa shut her eyes and sighed.  Despite the fact that she had awakened only a few hours ago, she felt more than drained enough for a nap.

“Nothing, Marg,” she said, once she had forced her eyes open.  “I’m staying in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.  His bedroom is downstairs.  We talk – ” she tapped one thumb against the laptop base next to the track pad – “as little as possible.”

Margaery narrowed her eyes. “Mmm-hmm,” she replied, although she and Sansa both knew she meant exactly the opposite.  “And you’re OK with that?”

Sansa threw up a hand in exasperation.  “Yes, I’m OK with having a place to stay during the worst blizzard in my lifetime, Marg. I have food, my own bathroom, and a coffee machine, and Jon – ” she huffed out a breath between her closed lips – “has been very nice about it.”  Her shoulders sagged.  “Sorry to be tight about it, but I just got through talking to my mother, and…” she shrugged and turned a hand palm-up.  Margaery’s eyes immediately softened, although the scheming detective look, as Sansa was so fond of calling it, did not quite disappear.

“Ouch,” she said.  “You’re right.  That would make anyone tight.”  Her cheek twitched for several moments, but in the end she pursed her lips and said nothing more but, “Go on, then, clean out his chocolate stash, dear. You deserve it.”

Only if it’s spoiled rotten and makes me sick, Sansa wanted to reply, but she only waved back.  “Maybe.  I’ll call you when I get back to Leeds.”

After ending the call with Margaery, Sansa exhaled heavily and leaned her forehead on the edge of the laptop screen.  She knew she should be thanking her lucky stars that Margaery had let her get off easily, but even that had been all she could take.  Breathe in, breathe out.  One call to Hannah Freeman, her publicist, and she could relax, or at least eat.

Fortunately, unlike the prior two people Sansa had called, Hannah did not give Sansa the feeling she was being X-rayed.  Instead, once she was satisfied that Sansa had come to no harm, her usual good cheer returned, and Sansa ended the call two minutes later assured that Hannah, as usual, would handle the tabloids with her usual competence.

Sansa did not want to think about her no doubt overflowing e-mail inbox, so she plunged into the computer’s typing software.  At first she followed the advice Mya had given her about the journaling assignment: If you’re having trouble picking out one thought at a time, just write down the first one that comes to your mind. Sansa tried that, but nothing she could tap out on the keyboard was remotely close to what Jon deserved to hear from her.

I am so horribly, badly, awfully sorry – Backspace, backspace, backspace.

I don’t deserve for you to listen to me, let alone forgive me – Highlight, delete.

I am as horrid a person as I have accused you of being for three years – delete, delete, delete.

After perhaps the fifteenth such incident, Sansa’s stomach began to growl.  She had gotten nearly to the foot of the stairs before she remembered to listen for the telltale signs of Pink Floyd emanating from Jon’s room. She sighed with relief when she heard them, and made a beeline straight for the kitchen.  Once there, she cleaned the coffeepot and, to her relief, took only a few minutes to figure out how to fill and set the machine to which it belonged. While the coffee was brewing, she retrieved some fruit, cheese, and crackers, which were the results of her effort to do as little snooping as possible through Jon’s refrigerator and pantry. Unable to find any napkins, she carefully plucked two paper towels from the roll next to the sink and made her way back up the stairs.

When she returned to her room, Sansa elected to eat at the corner desk rather than on the bed. She’d never taken to eating while seated on a bed, even during her teenage years; the thought of the leftover crumbs skittering off of the covers onto her when she was trying to sleep had always made her shudder.  Once she had set the computer onto the desk alongside her plate, she decided to find a funny YouTube video or two to help her confused mind refocus itself.  No sooner had she pulled up the website on the browser, however, than she realized she was staring at the screen through tears. She quickly closed out of the browser and cringed.

Jon had spent the past three years in misery, and she’d thought she was entitled to watch somebody’s cat chasing a laser pointer on YouTube.

Sansa’s hand slackened off the track pad and onto the keyboard.  Her forefinger tapped tentatively against one key and then another.

Selfish

 The other fingers of her right hand joined in.

 I’m selfish

 Her left hand sprang into action, and in a matter of seconds both sets of fingers were flying across the keyboard, first in sputtering bursts, then in longer, more fluid strokes.

 Mean

 Cruel

 Judgmental? yes

 Hurtful

 Awful

 I made you feel pain because I wanted to and it hurt you and I was glad because I wanted to hurt you

 I punished you because I wanted to punish you

 You didn’t hurt me

 You didn’t cheat

 Even after I talked to the goldsmith and jeweler I still thought it was so unlike you, so I shouldn’t have cut everything off so fast.

 I should have listened to you again one more time

 I just didn’t see why they’d lie even though you’ve never lied to me

 It was all wrong

 I WAS WRONG

 I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong, you didn’t deserve that, you didn’t deserve what I did.  You didn’t deserve what Jeyne did.  It was awful.  But I was more awful.  I was worse. I was wrong.  You are kind, and you didn’t deserve it.

 Sansa’s tears flowed with her fingers, but for the first time since she had arrived at Jon’s flat they did not entirely incapacitate her.  She had to pause at frequent intervals to blow her nose, but her fingers inevitably made their way back to the keyboard, whether to peck out a phrase or hack away a sentence or two.  They did not stop until the silver glow from the window had faded entirely and Sansa realized her need for the desk lamp, which was about the same time she realized her lower back had begun to hurt.

Sansa pulled back the desk chair and rose to stretch, very nearly knocking her long-emptied plate to the floor as she did so.  She carried it over to the dresser, where it would be well out of her way, and bent down to grab her ankles.  It had been far too long, she realized as she did so, since she had last been to a yoga class.

After a few more halfhearted stretches, Sansa slumped back in front of the computer.  Somehow, when she swiped the tracking pad to get rid of the screensaver, she managed to switch task windows and pull up the Internet browser window she had opened during her FaceTime chat with Margaery. Now, instead of reading BRITISH ACTRESS GOES MISSING IN BLIZZARD, the article she’d clicked on was headlined with the words MISSING ACTRESS FOUND SAFE IN SNOWSTORM.  The site’s sidebar, she noticed, contained links to a few other articles, but one in particular stood out to Sansa because of its title: FANS HAD DISCUSSED THEORIES INCLUDING LINKS TO EX-HUSBAND.

Sansa, who was well accustomed to outlandish and even disgusting tabloid headlines, nevertheless winced.  The only “fans” to whom that clickbait line could possibly be referring were a few really horrible, idiotic teenage boys in tinfoil hats who had sick fantasies about her and therefore deluded themselves into smearing any man who actually had won her affections.  Not that anyone who knew Jon would even dignify that faux article by so much as glancing it, let alone think about believing it.  

But then, all of their formerly mutual friends who had taken Sansa’s side in the divorce had been reeled in by articles just as false.  

SANSA STARK BLINDSIDED BY HUSBAND’S ALLEGED AFFAIR WITH COSTAR.

JON SNOW SNOWED UNDER WITH DIVORCE PAPERS: SOURCES CLAIM TRYST WITH EX

STARK RAVING MAD: SANSA STARK FILES FOR DIVORCE - WAS JON HAVING AN AFFAIR?

Sansa, of course, had made no such statements to the tabloids.  But she had made them to people who now believed every word.

Oh, Jon.

Sansa felt like vomiting all over again.  Fortunately, her body settled for a few gags, but even after they had passed, she found herself trembling.  She folded the computer screen down and her arms on top of it and rested her head on top of them in a futile attempt to stop the shaking and the wincing and the tears that poured down her cheeks once again.

Sansa thought she must have nodded off, for all of a sudden she started and realized that her left arm was half numb.  Once she had shaken it awake and mopped her eyes and nose with tissues, she reopened the computer screen, immediately closing out of the browser window as she did so.  The word processing software window popped up again, and Sansa and discovered that she had produced more than twenty pages’ worth of typing.  That number shot north of twenty-five in remarkably short order as Sansa’s fingers flew in response to the tabloid headlines and shocked friends’ faces that flashed before her eyes over and over again.  Finally, the words trickled to a stop.  For a time Sansa sat staring numbly at the screen, but then her fingers began to tap nervously against the desk.  Finally, she settled her right hand on the track pad, scrolled up to the beginning of the document, and began to read through it.  The first couple of pages were nearly incomprehensible, and the next several improved on that only mildly.  In a few places she had formed sentences, even paragraphs, that had begun to articulate what heretofore she had only been able to say with tears.  Those tears rolled down Sansa’s cheeks freely as she read, and by the time she had reached the end of the document, she had given up the idea of ever being able to read through even a more coherent form of it to Jon without crying.  But he still deserved to hear it, if he would voluntarily sit in her presence long enough for her to read it.  

No.  Even if Jon did agree to hear the entire document – it was far too raw and jumbled at this point to be called a letter – he deserved more than her simply reading off a piece of paper to him.  If Jon and not she were doing the apologizing, Sansa knew that he would at least do her the courtesy of looking her in the eyes and finding his own words, even if he had to fumble with them.  That thought infused her with a fresh round of nerves; she had always placed a high premium on being prepared, since she lacked Jon’s naturally succinct candor.  Perhaps if she edited the document and ran through the most important points in her mind – but then she scrolled through the work again, and most of the ideas she had listed seemed equally crucial to the crux of the letter.  And all of them made her want to cry again, although this time for Jon perhaps just as much as for herself.

Sansa sighed again. If she had been less of a coward, she would have knocked at Jon’s door hours ago and spoken to him already, or at least tried.  Certainly, he would have been well within his rights to slam the door in her face or shout invectives at her as she had at him, although that possibility did not let her off the hook in the least.

Sansa was surprised to feel her stomach growl again, at least until she checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and discovered it was after seven o’clock.  She reluctantly stood up, padded over to the dresser, retrieved her plate, and headed downstairs once again.  So lost in thought was she that she did not notice that the kitchen light was on and the room itself occupied until it was too late.

“Oh!” she squeaked when she came to her senses and saw Jon pulling something out of the oven.  That startled Jon, who yelped and dropped his pan on the stove at the same time Sansa let her dishes clatter to the island.

“I – sorry!” Sansa exclaimed as she grabbed the edge of the island for support.  “I didn’t even see you – I’m sorry, Jon, I’m sorry.”

Jon turned to face her from the other side of the island, and Sansa suddenly realized that Catelyn Stark’s vocal cords had met their match for conveying disapproval.  She shrank back involuntarily an inch or two before dropping her eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” she said yet again.  “I – I’ll just – I’ll clean up my dishes after you’re done – sorry.”  She made herself look back up at Jon, whose gaze had not softened one bit.  Sansa bit her lip.  She supposed she should only have been surprised it had taken him this long to join her in wondering why he had tried to be civil, let alone hospitable, in the first place.

“Sorry,” she mumbled before she could stop herself, but that only intensified his glower.  Sansa shrank back another two inches or so.

“I just meant you don’t have to clean up after me any more,” she managed and turned to leave.

“Clean what up after you?” Jon snapped.  Sansa whirled around, startled.  Jon had raised his voice to such volume only a handful of times during all the years they had known each other.  “My muffins? My Gram’s vase?  My heart?  My fucking life?”

His face grew redder with each exclamation, and his voice had such a raw edge to it that Sansa was not sure whether he would burst into tears or begin flinging dishes across the kitchen.  Jon must not have been sure either, because he settled for striking the surface of the island as hard as he could with both hands half-open.  He winced and swore loudly, and Sansa stepped toward him in spite of herself.

“Are you all right?” she asked.  Jon snorted.

“‘All right?’  A bit rich, isn’t that?” he spat.  Sansa cringed at the disdain dripping from his every word.  She nodded.

“You’re right,” she replied quietly.  “I – I’m – ”

“Sorry.”  They said the word at the same time: she with sadness, he with scorn.  The two tones jarred Sansa’s ears when they clashed against each other, and she gave an involuntary shudder.  She retreated to where she had stood before Jon had struck the island.

“I – I – I know it’s a stupid word,” she continued, once again making herself look Jon straight in the incensed brown eyes.  “I know it’s stupid, and so is apologize, and so is every word in the English language, because they’re all useless, because at the end of it I hurt you and I left you and I didn’t listen to you and I told all of our friends – ”  Her chest constricted when she saw the look on Jon’s face, and she gripped the edge of the island’s counter tightly to steady herself.  “Oh, God, I hurt you, and I – ”

“Hurt?”  The word left Jon’s mouth on the wave of the terrible snorting noise, and Sansa stopped cold.  Jon himself stood stock still on the opposite side of the island, but his hands, now balled into fists, were trembling, and his knuckles were white.  “Hurt? Is that another stupid English word for ripping someone’s heart out with a chainsaw and grinding it to a pulp with a bloody meat cleaver?  Is that what you call hurt?”  The snort made its third appearance.  “If that’s what you call hurt, then we’ve done the damn impossible and found something we agree on!  Jesus Christ, Sansa!”  He pounded the island again, but this time with only one hand.  He swiveled his upper body a quarter turn to face the stove for a moment, which was when Sansa noticed that the muscle directly next to his temple was twitching.  That meant he was fighting tears, and he was fighting them hard if the twitches’ tempo was any indication.

Sansa’s mouth opened, but she found herself unable to close it or reply or indeed do anything other than feel the tears gather behind her eyes.  Jon had rarely cried even as a teenager, let alone as an adult, and it had always broken Sansa to pieces when he had.  He must have no idea, even now, how close she had come that last day it the park to relenting when he’d sobbed his heart out in front of her despite their not having spoken in months, or how excruciatingly difficult it had been for her to harden her own heart and walk away when he’d tried to show her the sketches of the brooch he’d commissioned for her.  Now, as then, the fault for all of it lay squarely on her shoulders, and now, as then, she owed it to him to say something, anything, about how right he’d been and how wrong she’d been.  Instead, Sansa found her mouth opening and closing silently, like that of the proverbial goldfish.

But he had been right.

“You’re right,” she said at last, and Jon pivoted sharply to face her.  A bit of the bronze glow left his eyes and was replaced by something Sansa could only describe as relief, as though he had been locked for years behind a door that would only open when somebody spoke the magic words and Sansa herself had just said them.

“You’re right,” Sansa repeated, a little more firmly.  “I was wrong, and I didn’t believe you, and I hurt you badly and worse than badly, and I put you in the worst sort of agony on purpose because I thought that’s what you’d done to me, even though you hadn’t.”  She bit her lip and inhaled a long breath, both to keep the tears at bay and to try to remember any of the more lucid things she’d typed on Jon’s computer over the last few hours.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” she finally continued, lowering her voice so that it would not shake.  “I shouldn’t have done any of it, or I should have thought better of it before I did so much, and – ”  She shook her head again.  If nothing else, Jon deserved to have her speak in coherent sentences.  “I should have waited longer before I – before I just stopped talking to you like that, and even when I did – ”  She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.  “I should have listened more when people told me it wasn’t like you.  And I know better now, but you’re right – I had a chance to know better then, but I was just so angry thinking you’d done – and you didn’t want me any more, and – oh, Jon, I – I didn’t know, but you’re right anyway, and then I went around thinking and talking like you had done all those things, and making everyone else think – ”  She winced. Images of the headlines from that day and two years ago flashed before her eyes, and she winced again.  “And they probably still think it, even though they shouldn’t, and that’s my fault, because Shae and Grenn and Jory and the rest of them thought I was right about you, and – ”  She twisted her right hand through the air as if trying to pull an answer out of it. When the answer came, it brought the tears with it.  “And your whole life, which got upended and – and – and it wasn’t what you wanted or what you deserved, and you deserved so much better, Jon, and I – oh, I ruined it all, and I thought – but it doesn’t matter, because your life still got – ” She made an odd gulping noise, which did nothing save to squeeze more tears out of her eyes, down her face, and off her chin onto her twisting hands.

“Destroyed? Wrecked?  Smashed?”  Jon’s voice cut caustically across hers.  If the old cliché about somebody’s eyes being able to bore holes into somebody else were true, Sansa thought she would have two brown holes drilled straight through her head at the moment.  Whether they would be filled with water she could not tell, for Jon’s temple muscle was still twitching a bit.

“Any?  All?”  Jon threw both hands into the air.  “The English language has some pretty damn good words if you try, Sansa.”  Both his jaw muscle and his temple muscle twitched at the same time, and Sansa flinched.  “Obliterated?  Demolished? Killed?  Because that’s what happened to my bloody life after you hacked it to pieces and sucked it out of me!”  He slapped his hands back down onto the island counter, although not as hard as before.

Sansa wiped the tears out of her eyes, but more immediately replaced them.  She covered her face with both hands and huddled over her elbows, which were propped on the counter, to contain the sobs that had overtaken her again. On occasion, she’d allowed herself to imagine Jon begging her forgiveness for doing to her life what she knew now she had done to his.  Now all of the words she’d imagined him saying seemed utterly empty and shallow and ridiculous.  More than possibly, Sansa thought, any words he could have said, or any she could say now, would have come across as empty and shallow and ridiculous.

But Sansa would try, so after a few moments she caught her breath and pushed off the counter into a standing position so she could look at Jon again.  This time there was no mistaking the tears that had gathered in his eyes.  That made Sansa’s own tears run afresh, but she paid them no mind.

“I – yes, I did,” she finally replied, her voice still shaking.  “You’re right.  I – I – I did.  I shut you out, and I didn’t let you explain even though I didn’t think you were happy with me any more – oh, Lord God have mercy, because I did everything to make sure you weren’t happy, and I wanted to destroy your happiness, and I let the tabloids drag you through the mud, and I split you apart from your friends.”  Her hands shook along with her voice, and she clenched them into fists in a futile attempt to make them stop.  “I did everything I could to make you miserable and suffer, and I want to undo it, and un-shatter it all because you deserve it, and you deserve the opposite of everything I did, and now I – ”  She blinked hard, and several more tears ran down each cheek.  “I know it’s a stupid English word, Jon, but I am sorry.  I truly am.  I’m so, so sorry – I’m sorry – I’m sorry.”  Unable to keep back the sobs, she covered her face in her hands and leaned heavily against the side of the island.

“What the bloody hell do you mean, you thought you weren’t making me happy any more?”  

Sansa gulped again – an ugly sound, every bit as ugly as her tears – and looked back up at Jon, who was staring at her as though he couldn’t believe her nerve.

“I – I thought – well, because you were so happy on set with everybody, and you guys were always laughing together, especially when you were watching playbacks with – with the others, and you weren’t happy or laughing that much around me – at home,” she explained after wiping her eyes again.  “I couldn’t make you laugh like they could any more, and I know I was caught up with everything about Father’s estate, but I saw how happy you were when we were out at brunch with everybody that one day when I was visiting you, realized I hadn’t made you that happy in months.”

Jon looked nonplussed. “Watching playbacks?”

Sansa nodded.  “I got there early one day.  You were still watching playbacks with – with everybody.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “With her, you mean.”

Sansa nodded.  “Yes,” she replied quietly.  “You were laughing and smiling, and you were happy.”

“So you thought that meant I was – ” Jon’s voice rose sharply – “doing anything with her?  Good God, Sansa, I was having a laugh with somebody I thought was a friend!  Nothing more!  You go to a friend to have a bloody laugh, but your wife – ” his tone took on its raw edge from earlier again – “your wife you go home to, and laugh with, and cry with, and cook with, and play stupid games with that make no sense to anyone but you, and everything else in life that you can’t do with all of your friends, because you count on her and she counts on you, and that was you, Sansa, nobody but you!”  He bent over the island as Sansa had done and took a few shaky breaths before he could continue.  When he straightened again, the look he’d gotten when Sansa had broken his grandmother’s vase had returned, and several times as broken.  “It was you, and I thought I’d spent years proving that to you, and you threw all that proof away for, what, a stupid lie or two that I didn’t even tell you?  That you could have disproved if you’d given me more than four fucking days before you filed papers on me?”

“I know.”  Sansa’s cheeks and neck were now thoroughly soaked, and her ears were dripping off of her chin onto the counter, but she made no effort to wipe them away any more.  “I should have waited, but I had no reason to think they’d lie, after you’d said to talk to them, and – and I’d really thought they’d say the same thing you’d said, and when they didn’t – ”  Her voice broke.  “I thought I’d – I’d – I’d end up like my mother, and I couldn’t, and I couldn’t breathe or think or anything else, and you’re right that I should have waited, but all I could think of was her and my father, and it’s still not an excuse for what I did to you – Jon, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jon smacked the counter again.  Sansa’s head snapped up so fast she felt dizzy.

“And you think I’m anything like your fucking father how?  Why?  Bloody living fucking hell, Sansa!”  He pulled one hand off the counter and shoved it through his hair, almost completely dislodging the band that held it in its bun.  “No disrespect to the bloody dead and all that, but – your father? Really?”  His temple muscle worked furiously, and for a moment Sansa thought he would start crying along with her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.  “No, I – I – I never – what I meant was I – my mother – well, she thought something might be wrong with my father before, but when she found out was when she got home early from taking me out to dinner because Robb was at his friend’s house, and she found him in the bedroom with – and after that…”  She wiped her eyes on her now-damp sleeve yet again.  “And when I was standing outside the trailer with those bottles of wine, all I could think of was her, and how I had come home early, and I could hear her screaming all over again, and I – I couldn’t do it myself, so I ran away, and I kept on thinking about it over and over and over, and – ”

“And all you’d ever had to do was bloody knock, for Christ’s sake!”  Jon yelled.  “Or even if you couldn’t then, at least give me more than a week – not even a week – after I’d never betrayed you in two years and, what?  Two again before that?  Four bloody years, Sansa!  And even more than that, because I – after we did that first film together, and I – ”  His chest contracted and released rapidly for a few beats, and his temple muscle spasmed, and two tears ran down his cheeks.  He snorted again as though that would chase them away.

“I never wanted anything to do with anybody else after that,” he ground out.  “Not her, not anyone.  It was always you.”  He blinked, and two more tears followed their cousins down his cheeks.  “Glad to see all that bought me – what? – four days, anyway.”  He shrugged and turned to make his way around the island toward the door to the living room. At first Sansa could not move a muscle save to squeeze out more tears of her own, but when Jon was within a few feet of the door she called out his name.  He turned to face her.

“It wasn’t – I still didn’t want to think it,” she gasped.  “I didn’t want to believe it.  I never did.”

The anger sprang back into Jon’s expression.  “Then why in God’s name, Sansa?” he cried.

“Because I thought I’d proven it.”  Despite her best efforts, Sansa’s face contorted into another sob.  “I thought – and I thought wrong, and now I’ve made everything wrong.  I was wrong. I was wrong.  I was wrong.”

Jon shook his head.  For a moment, his whole face twitched.  Then he shook his head and scoffed again.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “One bloody good way of putting it.”

He turned away and strode off down the hall.  Sansa turned away, collapsed on one of the kitchen chairs, laid her head on the table, and cried.

She dozed off again, and when she woke, there was no sign of Jon.  Even the chicken and roasted vegetables in the pan he’d pulled from the oven just before she’d entered the kitchen were untouched.  Still, Sansa took as little time as she could to grab a cup of yogurt from the refrigerator and a glass container of Jon’s homemade granola bites from the pantry and tiptoe back up the stairs.  She cringed as she ate them, and wished she could force the hunger from her body so she would not need to take anything else from Jon. Perhaps she could get a cab to the market before she left, she thought, and replace the food she’d eaten and the Aleve pills she’d taken and the cleaner Jon had had to use on the carpet when she’d thrown up on it.  But that was stupid, really, as stupid and insufficient and pathetic as was saying the word sorry to try and atone for any of the past three years.

Sansa finished eating as quickly as possible.  She remembered to check the kitchen from the bottom of the stairs this time to ensure Jon was not there before she tiptoed in and cleaned her dishes, as well as the bowls and cooking utensils Jon had left in the sink.  It was a pitiful way to repay Jon for his hospitality, she knew, but it was an improvement on nothing.

By the time Sansa had finished washing the dishes, she felt more exhausted than she ever had as a girl, even after a full day of skiing or snowball fighting with Robb and their friends. She barely had the energy to wash up and change into her pajamas before collapsing on the pile of blankets on her bed.

Maybe, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, there was something she could do to let Jon see how much she had meant when she’d said she wanted to undo every disgusting thing she’d done to him.  It was still paltry and still pathetic, but it would directly address and maybe even alleviate some of the damage she had caused, and it improved greatly upon washing dishes and buying food, although of course she would do those things too. None of them gave her the right to expect Jon to so much as look at her, let alone speak to her, again, and she would not blame him for that, although her chest tightened at the thought.  But he deserved every bit of restitution she could possibly make, even the paltry bits…

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Sansa awoke the following morning to a golden glow rather than a silver one.  A glimpse out the window showed her lampposts and fences and other bits of black wrought iron sticking out of an undulating sea of snowdrifts.  One look to the side of the building confirmed that at least three to four feet of snow had been emptied out of the skies, since all of the windows on the first floor were covered at least one-third of the way up by even the shallowest parts of the drifts.  But the drifts were glimmering in actual sunlight, and the only snowflakes flying through the air were those gusted off the tops of their drifts every now and again by the wind.

Sansa padded down the staircase and wrinkled her nose.  The smell of coffee was noticeably absent, and when she peered into the kitchen to ensure it was empty, i she noticed that the chicken and vegetables from the prior night were still sitting on the stove.  Sansa frowned.  That was completely unlike Jon, and so was the lack of any evidence that the coffeepot had been used since the prior morning.

Sansa checked the clock on the oven, which informed her that the time was 10:39 AM.  She frowned more deeply as she listened for the strains of Pink Floyd or the sound of Jon’s shower running or any other indication that he was awake.  All she heard instead was dead silence.

[hindiworld]

August 08, 2018 at 03:36AM Microsoft Surface Laptop Review

HIGHLIGHTS

The Surface Laptop has a unique Alcantara fabric layer on its inner deck

Performance is good for everyday work, but connectivity is limited

The Surface Laptop is available in five different configurations in India

We waited years for Microsoft to launch its Surface tabletsin India, and it's taken even longer for the Surface Bookand Surface Laptop to arrive. This family of devices is meant to showcase Windows to the best possible extent - they're all unapologetically premium, but more than that, they're genuinely fresh and interesting. Microsoft is competing with its own partners by pushing out PC hardware, and is emphasising design and engineering to set itself apart. It's pretty obvious that Apple's success integrating hardware and software has influenced this strategy.

Of all the Surface devices, the Surface Laptop is the most conventional. It isn't a 2-in-1, and it doesn't have a fancy engineered hinge or kickstand. It's meant to strike a balance between portability and productivity, and will appeal to those for whom the Surface Pro with its keyboard cover won't cut it.

Microsoft Surface Laptop design

Everyone who sees photos of the Surface Laptop will want to know how its fabric deck feels, and honestly, it isn't easy to describe even though we've used it before on the Surface Pro's Type Cover. Alcantara is a material that's 68 percent polyester and 32 percent polyurethane, and it's a bit like suede with a slightly waxy coating. It isn't perfectly smooth, but it doesn't have the texture of cloth either. It didn't fray or come undone even when we scratched it hard, and it's moulded like plastic around the keyboard tray. The Alcantara extends all the way to the edges of the deck and is pinched down, leaving room for a fingernail to help you lift the lid when it's closed.

The material is supposed to be resistant to spills and stains, and Microsoft even says it can be cleaned with warm water and mild soap, two things we wouldn't want anywhere near a laptop. We can't yet say how well it will hold up to long-term use, especially for people who tend to use their gadgets while eating.

It's worth pointing out that the fabric has one major downside - it's permanently stuck on to the metal chassis. The only way to replace or repair anything on the inside of this laptop is to rip the layers apart with a knife, and there's no putting it back together after that. In fact, when the Surface Laptop first launched in the USA, it famously received a repairability index score of zero from iFixit.

As for the rest of this laptop, it's fairly minimalist but still very noticeable. The lid has a simple matte aluminium finish, but with a prominent and highly reflective Windows logo in the centre. Microsoft has said that it isn't bringing the Burgundy, Cobalt Blue, or Graphite Gold options to India, which is a pity. The lid is pretty thin and it does bend and flex under pressure, but surprisingly there's no distortion whatsoever on the screen. The hinge is sunken and completely hidden under the fabric layer. It feels firm, and at least on our brand new unit, the lid didn't fall even if it was left just barely open. Overall, despite its waif-like appearance, the Surface Laptop seems to be built very well.

The lack of connectivity will be a huge concern for many buyers. The Surface Laptop is even more minimalist than the MacBook Air, with only a single USB 3.0 port, a 3.5mm audio socket, and a Mini-DisplayPort for video output. There isn't even an SD card slot. Many ultraportables are light on ports, but the Surface Laptop isn't even that thin or light. In this day and age we would have expected USB Type-C and preferred Thunderbolt 3, but most people will be fine with the far more common Type-A standard.

Your only relief comes in the form of Microsoft's Surface Connect Port, the tab-like slot on the right used by the bundled charger, which also supports Microsoft's Surface Dock. This accessory will give you four more USB 3.0 ports, two more Mini-DisplayPorts, Gigabit Ethernet and another audio output, but it's listed for Rs. 17,560 online in India, which is an absurd amount to pay.

The ports are also a little hard to reach thanks to the Surface Laptop's inward-slanting sides. Slotting the charger into the narrow Surface Connect Port in particular is an extremely fiddly process, and we wound up having to lift the laptop and bend over to see exactly what we were doing each time.

Next to the ports on either side of this laptop are white patches that look a lot like the antenna lines that are now common on smartphones. They stand out quite distinctly, and unfortunately they look like additional ports or slots that have been blanked out.

The keyboard has one major quirk, which is the placement of the power button. Microsoft obviously wanted the Delete key to be in the corner above the Backspace key, but we found ourselves still likely to hit the power button by accident. It also isn't flatter or stiffer than the keys surrounding it, which would have been the obvious precaution to take. The Fn row has been displaced by the paging keys and various shortcuts, but you can swap the keys' primary and secondary roles by simply tapping the Fn modifier once, which is quite convenient.

The Surface Laptop is only 14.47mm thick at its thickest point, and weighs only 1.25kg. It's super portable and super convenient to whip out of a sling bag or backpack. The only thing you get in the box with the Surface Laptop is its proprietary 44W charger, and we love its integrated USB port. You might not have enough ports on the laptop itself, but you can at least charge your phone on the go. However, we found the power cable to be a bit too short.

Microsoft Surface Laptop specifications and software

Microsoft is selling the Surface Laptop in five different configurations, ranging in price from Rs. 86,999 to Rs. 2,33,999. At the bottom of the stack you get an Intel Core i5-7200U CPU with integrated Intel HD Graphics 620, 8GB of RAM, and a 128GB SSD. The top-end variant has a Core i7-7660U processor with Intel Iris Plus Graphics 640, 16GB of RAM, and a 1TB SSD. This is a pretty wide range, and so the Surface Laptop competes with premium thin-and-light models including the MacBook Air as well as luxury laptops and 2-in-1s such as the Lenovo Yoga 920 and Dell XPS 13 9370. It's worth noting that these 7th Gen Intel Core processors are nearly two years old and significantly weaker than current offerings. It's also surprising that Microsoft has launched such expensive variants here but not the entry-level ones with Core m3 processors and 4GB of RAM.

We're reviewing the variant priced at Rs. 1,14,999, which has the Core i5, 8GB of RAM, and 256GB of storage. Considering that the RAM and SSD are soldered to the motherboard and there's no access to them anyway, you're going to want to account for future needs right from the start. Upgrades are simply not possible.

The touchscreen measures 13.5 inches diagonally but has a unique old-school 3:2 aspect ratio. Microsoft chose this squarish shape for its Surface tablets, and it makes sense when trying to use a device in portrait or landscape. While the look is consistent here, it isn't necessarily useful. You might think of it as extra vertical space or reduced width. It isn't the best choice if you watch a lot of videos or need to work on two documents side by side, but it works well for general productivity.

The resolution is completely non-standard at 2256x1504, and makes for a density of 201ppi. Windows 10 scales to 150 percent by default and we found this to be comfortable and crisp. This might not be a 2-in-1, but the touchscreen can still come in handy. We didn't wind up using touch a lot, but it's always nice to have. The Surface Pen is supported, but won't be particularly comfortable to use.

One thing that we don't often see even on premium laptops is an ambient light sensor, which means that brightness adjusts itself automatically. Above the screen is also a 720p webcam and the sensors needed to support Windows Hello face recognition. Stereo speakers are embedded beneath the keyboard. Microsoft isn't publishing an exact battery capacity, but iFixit has discovered that it's a 45.2Whr unit. It's rated for 14.5 hours of video playback which is impressive on paper, but we'll see shortly how well it really performs.

Our review unit was running Windows 10 Pro. The Surface Laptop was initially meant to ship running Windows 10 S, a reduced-functionality version of Windows. Somewhat like Windows RT, Windows 10 S made Edge and Bing the default Web browser and search engine respectively, without any ability to change them. Users could also only install apps from the Windows Store rather than just downloading anything they like. This was meant to usher users into an iOS-like walled garden, but due to massive backlash, this edition of Windows has been discontinued. Instead, the Surface Laptop ships with Windows 10 in "S Mode", which behaves the same. This mode can be disabled at no cost - as long as you find an option that's buried within the Microsoft Store app. With no clear direction, this might confuse a lot of buyers who just want to download Google Chrome or any other common software.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/2vvzyoq via My Channel on YouTube

[atoqoxoxez]

KingsRoad Bot

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[geekprincess26]

The Snow: Chapter 3

Once again: serious angst and language to emphasize it.  You have been warned.

Sansa woke shivering and bathed in an eerie silver glow flowing into the living room through the enormous mosaic of windows that lined the far wall.  One glance confirmed that the blizzard was still raging.

 Sansa sighed and pushed herself up on one elbow.  That was when she saw the small wicker laundry basket sitting on the floor just below her.  Her clothes from the previous night were now freshly laundered and folded neatly inside on top of a pile of blankets.  Sansa immediately grabbed the top two blankets and folded them around herself. While doing so, she noticed the laptop perched on the coffee table nearby.  She knelt on the edge of the couch, reached her hand as far as she could stretch it, and grabbed the computer with six inches to spare.  That was when she noticed the yellow Post-It note on top, covered in Jon’s strong, geometric script:

 UNLOCKED.  WIFI PASSWORD ENTERED.

Sansa’s brow furrowed for a moment until she remembered she was still without her phone.  When she and Jon had arrived at his flat the prior evening, she had anticipated returning to her own apartment and her spare phone before twenty-four hours had passed.  Now, however, it looked as though she would have to spend another night here without any phone at all, and the least she could do to keep from being completely swamped with unanswered communications whenever she ended up returning home would be to check her e-mail.

 Sansa opened the laptop, and, sure enough, Google popped up at once when she clicked on the Chrome icon. She quickly accessed her e-mail inbox and groaned out loud when she saw how many unread messages she had.  The number was far too high for her to handle without a proper distraction, so she opened another browser tab and checked the Met Office website.  That made her groan even more loudly: the blizzard, according to the website, would continue unabated until at least the following morning.  All Yorkshire residents were advised to stay in their homes except in case of emergency, and even then were instructed to call 999 and wait for a medical helicopter, as the roads were impassable even to EMS vehicles.

 Sansa bumped her forehead against her propped-up fist in frustration.  At this rate, she thought, she might as well have a new phone overnighted to Jon’s flat and logon to her carrier’s website to add it to her plan once it arrived.  That is, assuming she could remember her username and password.  She shut her eyes and allowed herself a further sigh of frustration.  Then her stomach growled.  Right. Why had she been trying to tackle her e-mails without proper food?

 It occurred to Sansa as she stood and draped yet another of Jon’s blankets around her that she had no idea where Jon kept anything in his kitchen.  She supposed she would have to poke around a bit and be careful not to break anything, especially considering what had already happened that morning. The only alternative, after all, was to ask Jon which foods he didn’t mind her having and where he kept the implements she would need to feed herself, and although that choice would show him better manners than the other, she could not bring herself to face Jon after having smashed his grandmother’s vase.  Besides, the very idea of asking Jon for permission to do anything made her grit her teeth.

 Catelyn Stark’s face appeared unbidden in her daughter’s mind’s eye.  Always ask permission before you eat anything in your host’s house, she’d said every time Sansa had gone to visit a friend, and at least ten times alone before she’d sent Sansa off to stay with Jon’s family for the auditioning workshop back before they’d been cast in their first film together.  Never touch anything without your host telling you that you may.  Even when you get permission, always be careful.  Clean whatever you use, and always leave your host’s house looking nicer than you found it.

 Sansa shook her head as she felt along the kitchen wall for the light switch.  Even three years after she’d left Jon, it was still strange to think of him as her host, a mere acquaintance to whom she owed proper formal courtesy.  However, she’d insisted on having no contact with him after the divorce, and years without contact tended to make strangers of people.  Not, Sansa thought, that there had been another alternative; after all, her own mother had made as clean a break from her father as possible following their divorce, only communicating with him through their solicitors and the relatives who had shuttled Robb and Sansa back and forth for custody visits. Nor was he an unusual case, Sansa had discovered the older she had become and the more marriages she had seen break up: most husbands whose wives had divorced them for infidelity were only too eager to get on with their lives and their mistresses once the divorces were finalized.  If anything, Jon was the rare exception to the rule, at least according to Margaery Tyrell.  She and Jon had acted in neighboring shows on the West End circuit some months after Jon and Sansa’s divorce had been finalized, and according to Margaery, who had an uncanny knack for picking up on the latest rumors (and which of them were true) faster than the rumor mills themselves, Jon had not had a girlfriend since Ygritte.  Even Ygritte, according to her, had not been spotted in Jon’s company since their film’s round of premieres, and during Jon’s stint in his West End show, he had preferred nobody’s company and refused countless invitations from his castmates to go out for dinner and drinks.  He’d looked like a “brooding little lost emo puppy,” Margaery had remarked offhand one evening when she’d had quite a bit of wine, although one look from Sansa had silenced her on the subject thereafter.

 Despite her eagerness to shut Margaery down, Sansa had briefly allowed herself to wonder at the time why on earth Jon was acting so abnormally.  After all, he no longer had the bonds of marriage to tie him to just one woman, not that it had stopped him before.  Perhaps he had bored of Ygritte too after his hunt for her affections had ended, she’d decided, or maybe – and she’d let out a perverse giggle at the thought – Ygritte had turned the tables and dumped Jon.  She had thought no more of it at the time, and she preferred not to think about it now, but Jon’s odd behavior after the divorce had been the one puzzle she’d never solved about him, and that had always frustrated her. That had come up often in her sessions with Mya, and they had discussed at length various ways in which Sansa could train herself to live with her uncertainty.  Sometimes Sansa had actually succeeded for a decent stretch of time.  Now, however, stuck in a flat with an ex-husband who had first cheated on her, then lied to no end about it, then decided to do her laundry and make her lemon poppyseed muffins, she was failing miserably.  Theoretically, Sansa mused as she flipped the light switch, if anyone she knew could hide a relationship from the tabloids, it was Jon, who had always been even more leery of any and all members of the press than other members of his profession.  But no celebrity of Jon’s status could hide a girlfriend, and even if he had managed to keep it from the tabloids, Margaery would have found out somehow.  Certainly, he was seeing no one special at the moment: the living room couch pillows were scattered all over the chairs and the floor, last week’s newspapers were stacked on the kitchen counter, and no trace of a woman’s perfume permeated the flat’s distinctly masculine smell. Granted, Sansa knew, it was no longer her business if Jon were seeing someone, but thinking about it had always made her stomach churn, whether because of some persistent post-divorce jealousy or because it reminded her of her own painful attempts at dating again. In this case, she decided, it was the burning need to eat something as soon as possible.

 Sansa sighed again and forced her gaze back to the cabinets surrounding her.  It finally settled on a broad door that looked like it might lead to a pantry.  No sooner had her hand touched the handle, however, than she heard Jon’s footsteps approaching and snatched her hand away.  She whirled around and began, “Sorry, just thought I – ” at the same time Jon said, “Oh, didn’t know you were – ”

 Both of them stopped, and Sansa took a couple of steps backward.  She felt her face grow red.

 “Didn’t mean to pry or anything,” she said, when she could no longer withstand Jon’s questioning look. “I didn’t want to bother you, so I figured I might find something to eat myself.”

 Jon gestured toward the refrigerator.  “Help yourself,” he said.  “I can wait.”

 Sansa’s stomach growled yet again, as if on cue, but she shook her head.  “It’s your kitchen, not mine,” she replied shortly.

 Jon pinched the bridge of his nose, and a flush matching Sansa’s spread upward from his jaw.  He’d always done that when trying to conserve the last of his usually vast store of patience.  Finally, he sighed and stepped to the other side of the island, away from Sansa.

 “Leftover lasagna and salad from yesterday are in the fridge,” he said in the same polite tone he took when explaining the plot of one of his movies for the umpteenth time at a press junket.  “There’s beer and wine coolers, and Coke if you want.  If you’d rather not eat my cooking, there’s fruit in the fridge and plenty of other food in the pantry.”  He pointed to the door Sansa had almost opened.  “Baking dishes are there. ”  He gestured toward an expanse of dark wood cabinets to the left of the double oven, then turned to indicate another set of cabinets to the side of the gleaming chrome dishwasher.  They were shiny with varnish, unlike the oak cabinets back in their house outside London, whose surfaces were raw and fresh and just the way Jon liked them.  Raw wood in general had fascinated him; he’d spent hours in his studio in the basement of that house carving boxes and bowls from pieces of oak and walnut and pine.

 “Pots and pans are there.” Jon’s brisk voice snapped Sansa out of her reverie.  He pointed in succession to more cabinets and drawers.  “Spices – utensils – silverware.”  He turned back on his heel to face her again, and his jaw was twitching. Three years ago, Sansa could have figured out easily whether it was from annoyance, anger, hurt, or some combination of them.  Now she could not quite tell, and that annoyed her as much as Jon’s baffling hospitality – with both her stomach and her energy running dangerously low, she could not allow herself to think of the word caring.  Instead, she shrugged.

 “Got it,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”

 Jon opened his mouth, but then shut it almost as quickly.  He shook his head, as if in disbelief, then turned and strode out of the room.

 Sansa would have loved to try cooking anything she could think of rather than depend on Jon’s handiwork, but her hunger quickly overcame her pride, and not five minutes after Jon had left the kitchen, she was eagerly cutting up a slice of lasagna she had warmed up in the microwave.  She groaned in spite of herself when she bit into the first piece – Jon’s cooking really was as good as she had remembered.  It was so good, and Sansa’s stomach so empty, that she helped herself to a second slice, along with an apple and a bowl of salad.  After she’d cleaned her dishes, she strode to the pantry door to raid a box of cookies she’d seen there earlier, but she heard Jon’s steps in the hallway and promptly tiptoed off to the living room to retrieve her blanket and clothes.

 The long overdue shower Sansa took after that revitalized her almost as much as the food had.  Now she could concentrate properly on checking her e-mail and ordering a new phone, she thought, and then realized she had left the laptop Jon had lent her back in the living room.  She quickly retrieved it, but turned one hallway too soon on her way upstairs and nearly collided with Jon.

 “Ooh – sorry!” she exclaimed, clutching the laptop so as not to drop it.  Jon, having grunted his own “sorry,” merely nodded.

 “Did you need anything?” he asked.  Sansa shook her head.

 “I was just going back upstairs, thank you,” she said, and the formal tone of her voice surprised her. If it surprised Jon, he did not show it.

 “Right, then,” he said, and stood back against the wall to let her pass.  Sansa stepped around him gingerly, but then she remembered the computer in her arms and turned to face him again.

 “Did you need this back?” she asked.

 Jon shook his head. “No,” he replied.  “You can keep it till you leave.”  He managed to sound as though he truly did not care whether she left or stayed, or even went outside to try building a snowman.

 Sansa bit her lip. The hallway contained no windows, but when she’d looked outside from her bedroom window not half an hour before, the snow had been swirling as thickly as it had that morning.

 “The Met Office says it should stop snowing tomorrow morning,” she said, not quite meeting Jon’s eyes.  “I’ll be out as soon after that as I can.”

 Jon shrugged.  “Best wait till it’s safe,” he said.  “I’ll let you know when the groundskeepers shovel out the lot.”

 Sansa risked a direct glance at Jon’s face before she headed back upstairs.  He had always done well at burying his emotions beneath an ever-present expression of thoughtfulness, but now he looked simply vacant rather than brooding.  Something in Sansa’s chest tightened, and she cringed.  She lost no time in turning away and mounting the stairs as quickly as she could.  When she reached the safety of her bedroom, she set the laptop on the nightstand and flopped onto the bed, feeling suddenly drained herself.  Maybe Margaery had been right and Jon did feel guilty about his infidelity after all, but as before, Sansa found herself taking no joy over a prospect that once would have made her giddy.  She thought she might prefer this morning’s snapping, angry Jon to this afternoon’s empty shell.  The latter very nearly made her want to feel sorry for him, and feeling sorry for Jon was even less appealing than having to stay in the flat with him in the first place.

 Finally, Sansa summoned the energy to open the laptop and navigated to her phone carrier’s website. True to her earlier predictions, she had completely forgotten her password and had to request a reset e-mail from the carrier.  Unable to wait in silence without drumming her fingers on the keypad, she clicked on the Met Office’s website, which now informed her that the blizzard was expected to last through the following evening instead of the morning.

 Sansa let out a groan and leaned her head back against the headboard.  If the forecast turned out to be accurate, she would likely have to spend not just one but two more nights with Jon, for the city’s snowplows would take all night to clear the snow from a storm of that magnitude.  

 Eventually, Sansa leaned her head forward again and clicked on the tab that contained her e-mail inbox. The second entry from the top was the e-mail containing her phone carrier’s password reset link.  Thank God there’s one thing the storm didn’t delay.

 Had Jon been the one shopping for a new phone, Sansa knew, he would have taken hours to compare the technical specifications of at least a dozen different models, and even entered the information into an Excel spreadsheet for his own perusal.  Sansa, who had neither his knowledge nor his patience for that kind of thing, took all of 20 minutes to choose a phone and click on the cart icon to check out.  She was immediately directed to the shipping information screen.  Shit.  She had no idea what Jon’s mailing address was, and less than no inclination to ask him for it.  Even if she had not been facing the temptation to feel sorry for her unfaithful ex-husband, she was still in his debt twice over, and that rankled deeply. For the past three years, she had been accustomed to Jon’s needing her forgiveness, not the other way around. And besides that, she had to admit she felt horrible about having smashed his grandmother’s vase.  She sighed deeply, tilted her head backward again, and alternated between dredging up the guts to knock on Jon’s bedroom door and trying to think of some impossible way to repay Jon for the vase. Eventually she decided that the former would take less time, so she pulled her damp hair into a knot at the top of her head and traipsed down the stairs.

 As it turned out, leaving her room and knocking on Jon’s door took more time than Sansa had thought it would.  She turned away from the hall leading from the living room into his section of the flat twice before she could force her feet down it, and once at his bedroom door, she lifted her hand to knock three times and drew it back as many times.  Whether her fourth attempt would have succeeded she never knew, for Jon opened his door before her hand could reach it.  Sansa squealed and jumped backward, nearly crashing into the opposite wall as she did so.  Jon barely flinched.

 “Yes, Sansa?” he said sharply.  Sansa used the wall to straighten herself.  She raised her chin as she did so but regretted it almost at once, for the pained look he’d worn when she had smashed the vase that morning had returned with a vengeance, and she still knew Jon well enough to see the moisture gathering in his eyes.  She opened her mouth a couple of times to speak, but nothing came out, and each time Jon looked both more pained and more annoyed.

 “I – sorry,” Sansa managed at last.  “I just need your address here.”  Seeing his confusion, she added, “For my new phone.  I’m having it overnighted here.”  

 Jon tilted his head toward the window, which showed the same stream of endlessly blowing snow Sansa had seen outside of every other window in the flat.  “You know it probably won’t get here by then,” he said.  “Maybe not the next day either, if the Met Office has it right.  I’ve got a spare you can use, if you want to.”

 Shit.  He was right, of course, but that did nothing to stem the sudden rush of irritation that engulfed Sansa.

 “Well, just in case they do manage to work a miracle,” she ground out, “are you going to give me your address, or should I just give them mine and get a bloody cab out of here as soon as I can find one?  Because I’m not using your bloody phone when I can get my own, and I’m not going to stay locked up here forever with you and your phone and your computer, either.”

 Jon blinked as though she had slapped him.  He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.

 “You’re never going to stop thinking the worst of me, are you?” he spat, and let out another bark of bitter laughter.  He threw up both of his hands, and Sansa could see the bronze streaks flashing across his eyes.  “You always believed it before.  Why would I think you’d stop now?”

 If Sansa had had Jon’s eyes, they would have turned completely bronze with rage by now.  It took most of her remaining restraint to keep herself from smashing her fist into the wall right beside Jon’s head.

 “Oh, fucking come off it, Jon!” she shouted.  “Why wouldn’t I stop?  Why wouldn’t I stop?  Maybe I did actually ‘think the best of you’” – she wrinkled the second and third fingers of each hand into exaggerated imitations of quotation marks, as she sometimes did when angry enough – “until you fucked another woman.  That does tend to make a wife start to ‘think the worst’ of her husband, in case you did not understand the concept!”  

 Sansa felt a few drops of spittle leaving her mouth as she screamed the last few words, but by that point she was beyond caring, and judging from the way Jon’s open hand smacked against the wall behind him, several feet away from Sansa, so was he.

 “God damn it, Sansa!” he cried.  “You wouldn’t listen to me ever, not even from the first time I explained that I didn’t fuck her or anyone else!  You never even tried to think anything but the worst of me!  You had your mind made up already, didn’t you, even before I started leaving messages on your bloody phone that night?  You couldn’t even wait for me to come home and at least listen to me tell you my side once before you left!”

 Now the spittle began flying from Sansa’s mouth almost before she opened it.  Once again, she did not care.

 “Oh, fuck you to say I didn’t listen to you!” she screamed. “I did nothing but listen to you!  I did everything I could to figure out if what you said was true, and you fucking well know it, and you fucking well knew the whole time that it was a lie! Jesus Christ, Jon, where do you fucking get off?  You spent three whole fucking years prancing around acting all wronged and grieved and innocent after you humiliated me twice – once when you cheated on me and then again, if once wasn’t enough, when you lied about it and kept on lying about it!  And I spent the same fucking three years in fucking bloody fucking misery, and I will be fucked if I spend one more day in it after I leave here!”  She felt her own tears forming, and she had decided after this morning’s episode on the couch that she was finished with letting Jon see her cry, so she did him one better and smacked both of her hands into the wall on each side of his bedroom door.

 “Fuck your address,” she spat.  “I’ll figure it out myself.”

 Jon’s shoulders slumped. “You can have the bloody address,” he retorted.  “I’ll give it to you now.”

 He turned sharply on his heel and stalked off into a part of the room Sansa could not see.  When she heard him opening and rummaging through a door, she assumed he was grabbing a pen and piece of paper.  Good. We’re back to strangers writing notes again.

 But when Jon returned to the doorway, he held cradled in his hands not a scrap of paper he’d torn from the yellow legal pads he’d always been so fond of keeping around, but a hinged wooden box with intricate designs carved into its lid.  Before Sansa could make them out properly, she heard Jon speaking again, this time much more quietly than he had before.

 “Here,” he said, and the bronze streaks had left his eyes, and his jaw was twitching in that inscrutable way it had done when he’d shown Sansa around the kitchen earlier that afternoon.  “I was going to have it shipped to you, but now you might as well take it home with you.” He hesitated a moment before he extended the box to Sansa.  “You might want to pack it carefully.  What’s inside is insulated, but it’s better if the box doesn’t get jostled.”

 Sansa merely stared at Jon. After several moments, he squatted and set the box down carefully on the floor next to her.  He laid a piece of yellow paper on top of it, trudged back to his room without looking at her, and closed the door behind him.  After a few more moments, Sansa picked up the box. She had no intention of bringing it home with her, but she could at least take it back to her room and let Jon find it after she’d left, and she really did need the address.  As she rose back to her feet, however, the paper wafted off the box and fell toward the floor.  Sansa grabbed wildly at it with her right hand several times, and she finally caught it when it was perhaps eight inches off of the floor, but she lost control of the box and heard a distinct rattling sound as it hit the carpet. Curiosity, along with a desperate hope that she hadn’t broken a second valuable item of Jon’s that day, got the better of her, and she knelt down next to the box and cautiously pried the lid open.

 Then she not so cautiously screamed in spite of herself.