#he’s 21 in book ten right?

[iluvromance]

👹 hehe

[skyriderwednesday]

Hmmm... so if ASiS takes place in 1881, and I've said that Enola was nine the previous year...

Then evidently this version of Holmes and Watson meet when Sherlock is a few days shy of 24.

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

————————

“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

[admiringlove]

[13:21] . . .

out of nowhere, one summer afternoon, your best friend asks you a question you never thought he would.

“you still got a thing for me?”

you raise your eyebrows, eyes poring off the book you were reading as you laid on your stomach in bed. your legs, blissfully held up in your knees find their way back to the bed, as you watch him. he’s playing with some trinket he found on your windowsill; an old figurine you loved to collect back in highschool. he’s not looking at you—he won’t look at you, and you know it.

the summer air hadn’t bothered you until now. now, it just felt too hot and too stuffy and too humid in your room. the bedsheets with cherries printed on them felt too childish and you felt as if you were being transported back to the times in highschool when you trailed after him like a lost puppy even though you were his best friend and his partner in crime after his twin brother.

“osamu, you knew?” for the first time, you call him by his name. not “‘samu”, or “bear” or any cheeky nicknames you’d given him. just plain old osamu. you had half the mind to fuck with him and call him “miya” but you think it’d take it too far.

that’s when he looks at you. he’s laying on your bed too, with his back against the fluffy pillows you like. you’re laying half-way down the bed, whereas he’s on your right, a little above you. the window above his head is open, and a small breeze flitters its way inside, the linen curtains swaying above his head as you watch him. your glasses perched on top of your nose as you scrutinize him. you’re judging him—or at least that’s what he thinks you’re doing because you never ever call him by just his name.

“i had an idea, i think,” he says, looking back at the figurine in his hand. it was some video-game character, he reckons. you and atsumu used to fight to play it in the arcade with your pocket money for the week. and then osamu had to buy all three of you meat buns because you’d run out of money at the arcade.

“right,” you say, a bitter and avoidant tone lacing your words as you look back at your book. he can’t tell what you’re thinking, and you can’t tell what he wants.

had he always been like this? were you too much in love with him to notice that he knew all along and didn’t bother to say anything?

“you didn’t answer my question,” he says. and it makes you wonder how much audacity he has running through his veins. you make a face, as if you’d smelled something pungent. your lips scrunched and your eyebrows knotted as you try to think how to respond, “i don’t want to.”

“why not?” he asks, perching himself up onto his elbow. you look back up from your book, and the sunlight that falls on his face and highlights his freckles makes you almost swoon. you catch yourself though. “because i don’t want to, miya.”

a deep physical pain festers itself in his chest when he hears you say his last name with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. he blinks, sitting up, the figurine still in his hand as he rubs its face as hard as he can with his thumb to ground himself. “but i want to know.”

“and i don’t want to fucking tell you,” you quip, sparing him nothing but a dirty glance. he sucks in a sharp breath, watching you. had he distanced himself from you so much that being near him hurt you too? but he’d only been busy. in the last year of highschool, there was some obvious tension in between you, him and atsumu because of osamu’s decision to not pursue volleyball. you’d been crushed in between two men with big egos and big dreams, and you’d somehow managed to stay neutral. and then college happened. everyone moved to different places. osamu and you to tokyo. atsumu to okinawa for camp. then osamu got busy with his multiple part-time jobs and certification prep for his restaurant. he’d exchange five to ten minute phone calls with you once a week. but in the last six months, he hadn’t managed to do that either.

so he’d thought, at least it was summer now. he’d have more time to slow down and look around him.

“why not?” he asks, voice shaky and intuitive. he wants to read you again. he wants you to be his abditory again. he wants you back in his life the way it used to be before tokyo. he remembers the feeling still—you and him, standing in his kitchen in hyogo, as you try something he’d cooked. you’d always have that excited look in your eyes. and he’d always assumed you’d continue to have it till the end of time. maybe he was wrong.

“because it wasn’t a stupid fucking crush, ‘samu,” you laugh, but it’s not funny, “i was in love with you and you never noticed. as simple as that.”

“i said i had an idea,” he furrows his brows. it’s like you didn’t want his company anymore. did you not like being around him? what was the problem? he had taken notice, he just hadn’t taken any action. he reckons he wasn’t ready.

or was he just scared? he doesn’t know. but he watches as you turn your attention back to the book, and he feels a crack form under the two of you. as if you were slowly slipping away, and he couldn’t do anything about it. he scoffs slightly, prying the book away from you and placing it somewhere on the bed haphazardly as you protest. “osamu, seriously, stop being such a dick!”

“i’m talkin’ to you,” he says, sitting up straight. he rubs his thumb against the figurine’s face feeling its nose against the pad of his finger. he presses down hard, wanting to feel something. he hopes you’d notice how nervous he is.

“and i don’t want to talk to you because you’re a selfish prick,” you say, taking off your glasses and running a hand through your hair. you’re looking up at him with an emotional he can’t quite place, but he thinks it aligns somewhere with disgust. it makes him sick.

it’s not like he never noticed. he knew that the way you clung to him when you were younger had to be more than platonic. you’d stare at him with big eyes, blinking as if he hung the world together by strings and stars—and he’d feel that flutter in his stomach as if he were a child.

you’re both sitting in an awkward silence, the tension thickening the air like the humidity outside. osamu looks down at the figurine, its face now marred by the rough treatment. he feels like it’s a metaphor for you and him—something once cherished, now tarnished by neglect and misunderstanding.

“do you remember that summer festival in hyogo?” you suddenly ask, breaking the silence. the question catches him off guard, and he looks up, momentarily surprised that you’re shifting the conversation back to a happier time. but it’s a welcome distraction, he thinks.

“which year?” he replies, leaning back slightly, curiosity flickering across his face.

“the one where you tried to eat all the dango, but ended up just staring at the fireworks with half a stick in your mouth,” you chuckle, and it’s a sound he’s missed. the soft melody of your laughter contrasts sharply with the heaviness that has settled between you.

osamu feels warmth creep into his cheeks at the memory. he remembers the way the sky lit up, vibrant colors bursting in the night, mirroring the excitement in his chest as he watched you watch the fireworks. you had looked so beautiful, illuminated by the kaleidoscope of colors, your eyes sparkling with wonder. he had been so caught up in how pretty you looked, he forgot to chew. perhaps that was some kind of infatuation that he just didn't understand at the time. maybe if he simply had-

he shakes his head at the thought. there's no use thinking of what could've been.

“yeah, and ya made fun of me the entire time,” he smiles, trying hard to lighten the mood and to forget his current train of thought.

“because you looked ridiculous!” you tease, but there’s a hint of painful nostalgia in your voice. “you had this concentrated look like you were on a mission. i couldn’t stop laughing.”

he chuckles softly, but the sound feels hollow. “you were just jealous i because I could eat my weight in dango.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, and he takes that as a small victory. “i don’t think i ever ate that much. but-” your voice trails off, and he can see a shadow passing over your face. “it was nice, wasn’t it? being young and… oblivious?”

“yeah, it was,” he admits, a hint of melancholy creeping into his tone. “we had so much fun back then. it feels like we were invincible.”

and it did. back then, when he'd drag you out to try random foods at stalls or simply to go on a walk. it felt as if he could do it forever. have you by his side as his constant in this ever-changing world of his—where his brother was a professional volleyball player and he would simply be a restaurant owner someday.

“were we?” you asked, voice incredulous as you tilted your head, “the whole time, it kinda felt like you were the invincible one and i was just there. it’s like how you feel with atsumu.”

this makes osamu pause. had you really felt that way all this time? inferior? the thought lodged itself deep in his chest, a heavy weight he couldn’t shake off. he had never meant for you to feel that way. in his eyes, you had always been the spark—the one who brought color to his world when everything else felt gray and predictable.

“i never thought that, you know?” he finally says, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “i thought- i thought you were always the brave one. always ready to dive into new things, while i was just there. playing it safe.”

your brow furrows as you process his words. “brave? me? i was just following you around, trying to keep up,” you reply, a hint of bitterness creeping into your tone.

“but you did keep up. you were always right there beside me,” osamu insists, his gaze searching yours, desperate for you to understand. “you made everything more fun. without you, i’d just be-” he hesitates, the reality of his words hanging in the air, “i’d just be some guy in a kitchen, flipping meat buns and rice balls.”

“but that’s what you want, isn’t it?" you challenge, a fire igniting in your eyes.

“it is,” he admits, his heart racing as he watches you, “but it’s not the only thing i want.” he swallows hard, unsure if he should say more, if he should reveal the way you had always been a part of that dream, a silent partner in the chaos of his life.

the silence stretches between you, charged with unspoken words and tangled emotions. osamu feels a wave of uncertainty crash over him. the weight of his thoughts, his feelings, it all feels too heavy to carry alone. “sometimes, i wish i could go back,” he confesses, “to the way things were before everything got complicated.”

a small flash of a memory passes by in front of his eyelids. just for a split second, he sees a younger version of himself chasing fireflies alongside you in his backyard. jumping up to the first branches of the apple tree his grandfather had planted, the two of you miserably failing. the thought makes his lip curve upward.

“complicated? bear, we’re not kids anymore. we can’t just go back.” your voice is firm, but there’s a softness in your eyes that he can’t ignore.

“i know,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “but sometimes it feels like... like i’m losing you in all this.” he gestures around, to the walls that had once held laughter and secrets but now felt like a cage.

“losing me?” you echo, your expression shifting to something more vulnerable. “do you even know how many times i’ve sat here wondering if you even wanted me around anymore? it’s like you’ve been drifting away, and i- i don’t want to be just a memory for you.”

the truth of your words hits him like a cold splash of water, and he’s left grappling with the realization that he has indeed let the distance grow between you. osamu feels his heart ache, the weight of regret settling over him like a heavy fog.

“i never meant to push you away. life just... got in the way. and with 'tsumu doing so well, it’s hard not to compare myself.” he pauses, the vulnerability of admitting that laying bare the fragility of his ego. “i thought if i focused on my dreams, i wouldn’t lose you in the process.”

“but that’s just it,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “you’re so focused on what’s ahead that you forgot to look around and see what you have right now.”

osamu feels the sting of your words, a deep ache forming in his chest. “i don’t want to lose you,” he says finally, the honesty hanging heavy in the air. “but i don’t know how to fix this.”

he feels an estranged sensation pool at the pit of his stomach. it’s an unsettling mix of longing and disillusionment, a swirling tornado of emotions that seems to siphon away the warmth he had once felt in your presence. he remembers a time when everything between you had been easy—like a favorite song playing in the background, its melody effortlessly weaving through the fabric of his days. his relationship with you was always like a distant childhood memory; as if he were sitting on his bed whilst rain poured outside and laughter could be heard in the next room.

he can’t help but feel like he’s caught in a dream that has turned surreal, where the colors have faded, and the edges of reality blur into something unrecognizable. the laughter that had once come so easily now feels like a ghost haunting the hallways of his memory, a faint echo that reminds him of what he’s lost.

"maybe it's not about fixing it," you say, sitting up. he blinks a few times, as you push up your glasses. his eyes focus on your frame—the way you criss-cross your legs and look at him with that expression he could never pinpoint properly. something like how an older mentor figure would in disappointment, but with a hint of hope. "maybe, it's simply about trying."

and maybe, just maybe, he wasn't trying hard enough. maybe he wasn't trying at all.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 38

part 1 | part 37 | ao3

"Sure thing."

"Can you go say hey to everyone, too? Please?" he adds. "I need a second."

He expects Eddie to tease him for being bossy, but Eddie just winks and says, "Do you one better than that, sugar," smiling playfully with his tongue out like a dog before he bounds outside and tackles one of the kids into a pile of snow.

Steve uses the distraction to clean himself up; towel the sweat from his face and hair and clean the blood off of his knuckles, and when he steps outside a moment later Eddie's shouting "no wedgies no wedgies!!" while Dustin tries to shove a snowball down the back of his pants.

"Steve!" Eddie calls out when he spots him. "Steve, help!"

"No, help me!" Dustin counters with a strained grunt as Eddie grapples him into a chokehold. Mike yells "Get him, Eddie!" and Lucas rolls his eyes and mutters, "This is what we get for not bringing any girls."

The trip is pure chaos right from the jump, which Steve anticipated the second he suggested packing five dudes into a van for a run to the hardware store (he had to sit through ten minutes of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas arguing over everything from girls to books to whether The Cure objectively sucks or not until Eddie finally hollered "shut the fuck up!" and drowned them all out with 'real music'), but it feels good to be in charge. To have a project to manage, even if he's the reason there's a project in the first place.

He bosses the boys around the aisles when they get to the store, gathering up supplies — tarps and tools and vinyl, a few sheets of plywood to repair the damaged subfloor, disinfectant spray and gloves; safety shit, too, just in case they need it — and it reminds him of that day in the junkyard. Hey, dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?

"You talk to Max lately?" he asks Lucas when they get a minute alone.

Lucas dips his head and kicks at the wheel of their shopping cart, looking so much like a kid, even though he's almost taller than Steve now. "No," he says with a frustrated sigh. "I don't— it's like she's there, but she's not there. You know? I don't know how to reach her."

"Mm." Steve gets that. Felt it just this morning. He claps a hand to Lucas' shoulder. "Just give her time," he suggests, bending to grab a sanding block off a shelf and drop it in the cart.

In his periphery, he sees Eddie skipping at the far end of the aisle while Mike and Dustin chase after him. "Is she still with Eddie's friend?"

Lucas glares at the back of Eddie's head at Steve's reminder, voice sullen when he answers, "Shit, man. I don't know."

"Is he being cool to you?"

"Who, Gareth?"

"No, Eddie," Steve clarifies, remembering Erica's threat-request to look out for her brother.

"Oh." Lucas scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he treats basketball like it's the Dark Side, but-"

He breaks off with a little laugh, and Steve laughs with him. "Yeah. He's kind of dramatic. I'll talk to him about it."

"You will?"

"Sure. Jock solidarity and all that." He gives Lucas a fist bump, and Lucas gives him a long, thoughtful look, chewing his lip.

"So you guys are, like... friends now?"

Steve's heart gives an unhelpful flutter at the question. They are like friends now, he guesses, if friends kiss each other with tongue.

He clears his throat at that thought and looks away to hide his blush; sees Eddie using a cut of PVC pipe as a sword, lunging at Mike in a fencer's pose and shouting 'en garde!' "...Unfortunately, yeah."

—

part 39

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ aftermath ] t. zegras

paring : Trevor Zegras x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) helps Trevor deal with Jamie leaving and breaking his ankle all in 24 hours

warning(s) : injury, some angst

author’s note : it’s me. hi. i’m the problem, it’s me

༺═──────────────═༻

She definitely believes in the snowball effect after the last 24 hours of her life. It’s one of the reasons why she’s currently on a flight in the middle of the night to Raleigh to meet her boyfriend’s hockey team at their hotel.

Both her life and Trevor’s life have changed so much in 24 hours. Trevor left with the Ducks for their road trip expecting to have a fun trip. His best friend was finally 21 and could enjoy all that Nashville had to offer.

Then Jamie got the call that no player ever really wants to get from their general manager.

Hours later, he was on a flight to Philly and leaving the Ducks and a distraught Trevor behind in Tennessee.

She should’ve gotten on a plane then and there. Instead, she tempted fate.

The next day was Trevor’s 200th career NHL game, and he had to play it without his best friend on the ice with him. (Y/N) happily watched from their apartment in Anaheim.

Until Trevor went down along the boards after 3 shifts and two minutes total on the ice. She was on her feet as she watched her boyfriend get helped down the tunnel. He wasn’t putting any pressure on his left leg as the trainers helped him.

She blew up his phone with texts and calls until one in the morning California time. He never replied. Then she texted Mason and asked where the Ducks were staying in Raleigh. She booked a flight and asked Mason to get Trevor’s room number when they got there.

Luckily there was a nonstop flight to Raleigh that left from LAX at three that she just barely made. She packed a duffel bag and ran out the door to catch the flight.

After nearly five hours in the air and multiple timezone changes, (Y/N) lands in North Carolina. She left at three in the morning and landed at eleven in the morning. Mason’s text with Trevor’s room number and a he’s cranky comes through as she grabs her duffel from baggage claim.

Honestly, she should’ve gotten on a flight as soon as Trevor told her that Jamie got traded. This is what happens when you tempt fate.

She orders an Uber from the airport to the hotel where Trevor is staying with the Ducks.

Why he traveled with them after getting hurt is beyond her. Maybe it isn’t a long term injury and it’s just a sprain.

Either way, she’s about to find out.

After a ten minute debate with herself, she lightly knocks on Trevor’s door.

It’s a second before the door opens. As soon as it swings open though, her heart breaks at the sight behind it.

Trevor stands on crutches with his ankle wrapped. His eyes are red and puffy and it looks like he hasn’t slept a wink in two days. Honestly, he probably hasn’t.

"Trev," she pouts.

He shakes his head and quickly spins to walk back into the room. She follows him and lets the door shut behind her. "I don't want you here, (Y/N)," he tells her. The voice crack tells her all she needs to know. He does actually need her here.

"I don't care," she replies. "I'm here anyway." Trevor leans the crutches against the middle table and sits on the bed. "You haven't exactly had the best few days so I came to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not fucking okay!" Trevor shouts at her before rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair to compose himself. "My best friend plays across the damn country now after getting traded out of nowhere and I might have just broken my damn ankle in a milestone game. I'm going to be out for like two months again."

(Y/N) crouches down in front of him and puts her hands on his knees. "I'm sorry, baby," she softly says. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel right now. I know Jamie's in Philly right now and I know you won't talk to anyone else about how you feel so that's why I'm here. I don't want you to bottle up your feelings."

"It just sucks," Trevor says, voice shaky. "Everything's changing and I don't like it. I'm probably going to have to go to Jamie's and pack his apartment so I can send his stuff to him, especially now that I'm out and won't be able to do anything."

She gets up and sits next to her boyfriend. She grabs one of his hands and holds it on her lap. She rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. Trevor leans over and drops his head to her shoulder. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and plays with his hair.

"I'm here," she whispers. "I don't care if you don't want me here. I'll always be here."

"I know," Trevor replies. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm just frustrated and confused and in pain."

(Y/N) kisses his temple and buries her face in his hair. "It's okay," she says. "You're feeling a lot right now so I don't blame you for anything you say right now. Just know that I'll be here the entire time. As for Jamie, you know he's a phone call away whenever you wanna talk to him. He'll answer every single time you call him."

He nods. "Yeah," he mumbles. "Can we lay down until I meet with the doctor?"

"Of course," she replies. "Whatever you wanna do. What time do you meet with the doctor?"

"Three," Trevor tells her as he gets comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can since he's hurt. "I have to leave at two."

That's enough time for both of them to take a two hour nap.

She sets her alarm for 1:30 then settles in next to him. She wraps a leg around his waist and rests her head on his forehead while he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you for coming," Trevor whispers, his voice tired. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she assures him. "Close your eyes for a bit. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave."

He nods and within seconds, his breathing evens out. She smiles and falls asleep herself knowing that Trevor is finally getting some rest.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[calderacitylovers]

Zutara SlowBurn FanFiction: Personal Favs, part II

·        DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING by Megara Pike | Published: 2020-08-21 | 198K Words | 45 Chapters

ATLA Season 3 rewrite, fills in a lot of blanks between canon scenes. From the Southern Raiders to Sozin's Comet through coronation and aftermath. Growing friendships, bonding, being there for each other, a carnival & a cave, epic spirits' appearance on the Ember island, sparring, nightmares, assassination attempts, political ruses, and covert operations. Lovely, sweet. Exciting plot.

 ·        ATLA Book 4: Ashes by elayne_cypher | Published: 2018-10-27 | 306K words | 34 Chapters

This action-packed story picks up right after Ember Island Players and continues well after the war. Zuko is facing many challenges as a new Fire Lord. Romance, tough decisions, rebels, traitors, out-of-body experiences, secret headquarters, angst, teamwork, fire jets. The story has a bunch of OCs.

 ·        Refraction by caroes3725  | Published: 2020-09-09 | 215K Words | 37 Chapters

After breaking up with Aang, Katara needs to figure out her place and role in the patriarchal world. As determined Katara stubbornly bulldozes her way through Fire Nation political scene, her feelings for Zuko grow. Diplomatic visits, Gaang reunion, bonding with Kanna, insights into the life of Caldera city, stuffy politicians, cute correspondence, tropical storm, women supporting women, assassination attempts, personal boundaries. A sweet well-written coming-of-age story with a healthy measure of slow-burn and mutual pining. Katara and Zuko are both POVs, but the story mostly follows Katara. Bonus: Mai is NOT a clingy resentful idiot, but a smart person and a good friend. Some explicit language here and there, a bit of mild smut.

 ·        I Asked You First by halfhoursonearth | Published: 2020-10-03 | 142K words | 22/? Chapters

Ongoing, incomplete. Post Southern Raiders ATLAS3 rewrite. Mostly canon-compliant with blanks filled in between familiar scenes. Zuko and Katara develop a close friendship built on trust and sharing each other’s fears and hopes. Includes mentions of implied child abuse, Lu Ten’s diaries, exploring Avatar Roku’s legacy, sharing a balcony, heart-to-hearts, a hot spring under the stars, an actual date, and artbending. It’s incomplete, but what we have is bliss. Slowburn, mutual pining. Zutara-centric, but also explores the personalities of Team Avatar and their relationships.

 ·        Katara Alone by cablesscutie | Published: 2020-05-31 | 21K words

Katara is not an “unnecessary accessory to a more powerful man”. After the war, she is willing to forge her own path as she turns to people who need her the most on her journey of self-discovery. Features character exploration, correspondence, exploring outback villages of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, sweet reunions, and new firebending skills.

 ·        THE PHOENIX AND THE DRAGON - THE COMPLETE SERIES by JasmineTeaLatte | Published: 2021-06-11 | 100K words | 31 Chapters

This story picks up after The Ember Island Players. Zuko and Katara get to know each other during a late-night conversation by the campfire. In this story, you will find healthy boundaries, protective Sokka, a dash of Taang, sparring, funny banter & lots of flirting.

·        HESITATE by tiffaniesblews | Published: 2020-07-11 | 22K Words | 12 Chapters

This story picks up right after Zuko's coronation and spans two years afterwards. Zuko & Katara talk, share a few beautiful moments, write to each other, and reunite for the 2nd anniversary of the war ending. Very sweet, fluffy story about two sweethearts figuring out their feelings for each other.

·        LIKE WE'RE MADE OF STARLIGHT by Naladot | Published: 2021-11-28 | 5K Words

Katara leaves her post as the ambassador to the Fire Nation to take up a new one as the ambassador to the Northern Water Tribe. Her absence makes Zuko realize that he's got an unfortunate crush, which he is determined to keep secret. Unfortunately for him, subtly has never been one of his strengths—especially when he arrives in the Northern Water Tribe and she keeps taking him on what seem to be dates.

·        FIGURE IT OUT by clearascountryair | Published: 2021-12-20 | 35K words | 13 Chapters

After choosing not to kill Yon Rha, Katara rethinks her sense of self and others' perceptions of her. Or,    In which Katara learns that there’s a really big difference between being kissed when you don’t want to be and being kissed when you do. Aged-up 3B/Ember Island AU.

-  I FOUND YOU by that_turtleduck | Published: 2020-11-01 Completed: 2024-02-24 Words: 157,541 Chapters: 28/28

After divorcing Aang, Katara uproots her family and travels to Caldera. There she finds comfort, kindness and support from an old friend. Katara tries to find her footing as an independent political figure. Great story & relationship dynamic of Momtara & Dadko in their early 30s (Ember island, diplomatic meeting, dancing, turtleduck pond, letters). Delicious slow burn with rewarding spicy resolution in the end (explicit open door). Titters on the side of Anti-Aang.

Here’s a link to Part I of my personal favorites.

Here’s a link to Wholesome Zutara Short Stories.

[luellasplanet]

opposite’s attract. (aggie beever-jones)

word count: 1.9k

i think i changed the tense in this about ten times so let’s ignore that shall we x

aggie and y/n were never ever seen without each other. the duo were so similar yet so different. people often wondered how they became such good friends and later on girlfriends.

aggie was always with the boys at lunch time, jumping in the mud and leaves, creating an absolute mess of her uniform and overall being a total pain to the teachers, who were always shouting at her to behave herself.

whereas y/n was softer spoken than aggie, rather preferring to sit under the trees during lunch and talk about what she was going to do at netball later on that day or preferring to have her head stuck in a book and her head in the clouds.

the duo met on one random thursday in year three, aggie watched on from behind one of the trees as y/n gave into one of the year sevens who wanted her lunch. passing along the sandwich and chocolate bar with ease. the girls were easily a good half a foot taller than the year three so they towered over poor y/n.

from that day forward aggie vowed to be y/n’s knight in slightly muddy armour, always keeping an eye on her at lunch if she was by herself. forever standing up for y/n if someone was bullying her.

21 DECEMBER 2014

“aggie no! you wouldn’t!” the shorter girl was currently being pinned down to the bed as aggie threatened to pour the glass of water on her.

aggie was insistent that y/n had to be her defender for her in the garden, so that she could practise her shots. it was pissing down with rain and there was simply not a chance in hell that y/n would be getting sick this close to christmas.

y/n’s screaming and laughter had alerted aggie’s mother as she peered into the doorway. “aggie get off poor y/n right now.” the woman always had a soft spot for y/n, she was practically her third child after all.

grumbling under her breath, aggie flopped to the side and off of y/n, placing the glass down next to her. “dinner will be ready in five! come and set the table please.”

despite their differences in the sport they liked what the two had in common however, was their shared love for food. the duo raced down the stairs eager to eat supper.

after a more than filling meal and a very intense game of footsie under the table, tiredness starting to settle into their systems, a movie in front of the fireplace was just what was needed.

the four beever-jones’ and the honorary beever-jones all settled underneath various blankets and cushions on the two couches and love seat.

fire crackling softly, lighting the entire room is a soft orange hue while an old christmas movie played on the tv.

19 MAY 2017

today should’ve been one of the best days in y/n’s netball career, but instead after arriving at the wrong netball courts, then her team losing three out of four matches and her not being able to shoot more than five goals into the net, she was simply done with everyone and everything.

not a single word was spoken in the car on the way back to the y/l/n house, the only thing that could be heard was the soft buzz of the radio and the sound of other cars on the highway.

there was simply nothing anyone could say to make her feel better. seven months of training, for the biggest u14 netball competition, down the drain in a couple of hours was the most soul crushing experience for a fourteen year old.

the orange and pink uniform was digging into her shoulders and the seventh place certificate was placed haphazardly on the seat next to her.

y/n’s older brother tried to make a small joke but seeing the glint in her eyes he shut up immediately as he didn’t want to upset his sister even more.

the car ride was half an hour but it felt like an eternity. time didn’t feel real for y/n as she exited the car and grabbed her bag from the trunk.

taking refuge in her room when she got home, all she wanted right now was to have a nap and suddenly realise this was all a sick dream and she would wake up and all would be fine. but it wasn’t a sick dream it was a reality that she would have to face sooner or later.

loud footsteps could be heard from the staircase before her room door was roughly shoved open. “there’s my favourite netball star!” the sob that followed shortly after erased the smile from aggie’s face very quickly.

clearly no one had told her how the tournament had gone.

one look at y/n’s tear stained face and wobbly lip was the only thing that aggie needed to see before she dropped her sleepover bag on the floor and jumped onto the bed next to y/n.

“i messed up everything aggie, i’ve never seen my coach so upset with me in her entire life! i couldn’t even shoot properly and i kept getting blown for contact and stepping and-” aggie’s soothing hand on her back quickly stopped your rants. although your words were muffled because your face was smothered by the fluffy pillows, she could still make out how upset you were.

“oh y/n/n, i’m sure no one is upset with you, it’s only one tournament. i’m sure no one will remember this in a few months.” an idea struck to mind and with a teasing smile plastered on her face, aggie whispered to y/n “and besides you’ve been so busy crying you haven’t even noticed i’m sitting on your bed in my sweaty and muddy footy clothes!”

your head shot up immediately to notice that aggie was indeed sitting on your bed in her football clothes. it was tradition every saturday the two had a sleepover, rotating every week who’s house they would sleep at. “agh go shower you dickhead.”

placing a hand on her heart aggie placed a faux look of hurt on her face “you wound me y/n/n, you really do.” before getting up and going to the bathroom. where of course you had already laid out a fresh towel for aggie to use.

30 DECEMBER 2019

you had long grown out of her timid phase and was now the confident young woman your parents always told you she had to be.

your sixteenth birthday party was hopefully going to be the highlight of the entire christmas break, well besides christmas itself.

a rooftop party where none of your siblings would be present and no parents in sight sounded like the perfect idea to get a little drunk. (spoiler it wasn’t a little)

music blared out of the speaker, the base from the speakers sent shivers up everyone’s spines as they all mindlessly danced. after maybe four too many shots and a whole lot of encouragement from some out of school friends, y/n found herself in between a whole lot of sweaty bodies swaying and jumping to the music.

“i’m just heading to the bathroom quickly, i don’t feel too good.” you said to no one in particular before rushing off the dance floor and into the bathroom. the music in there was much softer and more calming, which helped with the upcoming headache forming behind your eyes.

barely managing to run into the nearest bathroom stall, back slumped against the wall as your hands gripped the porcelain toilet seat. trying to control your breathing and gain back the ability to see straight.

“y/n open the bloody door, right now!” aggie’s urgent voice and fist rattling hard against the wooden door increased the banging sensation in your head. blindly reaching up towards the lock of the door, you barely managed to turn the lock in order to let aggie into the small bathroom stall.

muttering a few curse words under her breath, aggie let herself into the bathroom before closing and locking the door behind her. bending down to your eye level. “who are you? i’m not sure my girlfriend would like it if she knew i was in a bathroom stall with a stranger you know…” y/n’s vision was blurred so she couldn’t quite see that it was her so called ‘girlfriend’ next to her.

“your girlfriend mm, now who would that be?” teasing tone very evident in aggie’s voice, but of course that completely washed over y/n’s head as another wave of nausea hit.

even with your head over the toilet seat and tears prickling in the corner of your eyes you still managed to mutter out how much you loved aggie and how extremely mad your dad would be if he saw you like this.

but of course this small interaction between the two of you would not be remembered in the morning, or how you had made it home in one piece after the night's events.

you didn’t remember how aggie had to keep her arm tightly around you as the two of you walked (stumbled) across the pebble stone sidewalk, how aggie’s jacket was draped over your shoulders and most of all when aggie dropped you off at your front door. the lingering kiss that you left on the corner of aggie’s mouth which sent butterflies into the blonde’s stomach.

CURRENT DAY

all those little memories were often reminisced at family dinners with both beever-jones and y/l/n family members present.

or in hushed conversations as the sunlight started to set on the bustling city of london, soft conversations about anything new or old as the room slowly began to lighten. rustling of freshly washed sheets and quiet laughter, before feet padding against the wooden floors and music could be heard.

the sounds of the frying pan sizzling with butter and the shower being turned on full blast.

y/n and aggie worked in perfect harmony, knowing each other's schedules like the back of their hands. you were fortunate enough to have an extra twenty minutes at home before you had to leave. which meant that you assisted aggie’s getting ready.

making sure the blonde had her protein shake prepped and ready, as well as making sure that her kit bag was clean and organised.

it was simply the little things that y/n did for aggie that meant the most to her. aggie would always press a lingering kiss to your lips before leaving the apartment, never forgetting to say “bye, i love you, see you later!” before she left.

then when the two of you got home later that evening, after giving the house a bit of TLC and aggie preparing dinner for them both. you would both settle down on the couch with a fluffy blanket draped over your legs.

a movie or series on in the background as the light from the tv, light the room in a soft hue of different colours. although the routine may seem boring and tedious to some, aggie and y/n wouldn’t have changed anything for the world.

the random saturday night dates, shopping on a wednesday or thursday, offering to pet sit y/n’s brother’s dogs when he was out of town and even the late night walks hand in hand to whatever destination their legs took them.

simply just y/n and aggie against the world, forever and always.

[gunsandspaceships]

MCU Timeline: Iron Man. Part 3 (The Cave)

Part 1, Part 2

We know Tony spent 3 months in captivity:

He was in Afghanistan from late January/early February 2008 until May 2. Since we don't have exact dates for February-April, for convenience I will take approximate ones and write down the periods of time that might be needed.

Day 1 (~Feb 5):

~3:30 pm - the attack. Tony is mortally wounded and captured by the Ten Rings. They give him emergency medical care to keep him from bleeding out and, while he is unconscious, transport to their base in the mountains. They are not very gentle and add abrasions to his head.

Evening - Raza records a video for Stane.

Same night - Yinsen performs surgery to remove shrapnel and bolts an electromagnet into Tony's sternum.

In 2 weeks (~Feb 20):

Tony finally wakes up (he partially woke up earlier - there is blood on his right hand and on the bandages, which means he was messing with his wounds not long ago).

He meets the Ten Rings and refuses to work for them.

The Ten Rings torture Tony by dunking him in a barrel of water. Due to this (electromagnet in chest+water are not good for one's heart) or to shrapnel-inflicted damage to his heart, Tony develops arrhythmia.

During the torture, Tony's brain comes up with the idea of ​​a miniaturized arc reactor.

Why so long? 1) Facial hair on his cheeks and neck has already grown. It is about two weeks long; 2) His wounds needed time to heal; 3) Some of the wounds on the torso have already developed scars; 4) He had a nasogastric tube inserted, which means enough time had passed for him to need it; 5) His lips are very dry and chapped.

Next few days (~Feb 21-22) - torture continues, this time they beat him on the head.

~Feb 22:

The Ten Rings take Tony outside to show him the SI weapons they have, and offer "to free" Tony if he builds them the Jericho. Tony "agrees". He sees that they have missiles with palladium, which he needs to build the reactor.

Later that day, Tony comes up with an idea for how they can escape: the armor.

~Feb 23-29 - "one week before death". Tony and Yinsen work on the reactor and pacemaker. Tony makes a drawing of Mark 1.

~March 1 - Yinsen performs the second surgery to implant the pacemaker, the housing for arc reactor and the reactor.

~March 1-April 12 (about 6 weeks) - post-op recovery:

First 4 days (~March 1-5) - Tony is unconscious and on a ventilator to help him breath.

~March 5 - Tony wakes up.

~March 15 - Yinsen starts physiotherapy to restore Tony's movement.

~April 6 - Yinsen removes bandages (scene on the surveillance camera).

~April 6-12 - Tony is almost recovered, but not yet strong enough to work. So he and Yinsen play backgammon, drink tea and talk.

How can we tell that a lot of time has passed between these two scenes (Tony showing Mark 1 drawing and the backgammon scene)? In the backgammon scene, Tony is shaved and his skin is clear - there are no traces of small wounds on his face and neck, as well as the long cut on his collarbone that was visible earlier.

~April 12-29 - work on "the Jericho" - Mark 1.

End of April - Rhodey goes back to Afghanistan with pararescue to search for Tony.

April 29 - Raza threatens Tony and Yinsen, demanding that they build him the Jericho by tomorrow. Tony and Yinsen work intensively all day, night and the next morning.

April 30 - Escape day:

Morning - Tony and Yinsen assemble Mark 1. They attack the Ten Rings. Yinsen dies. Tony destroys the base and escapes.

Evening - wounded Tony wanders through the desert. Hypovolemic shock kicks in. Rhodey finds him.

Why the same day? In the "Iron Man novelization" (not canon, based on an original script, unreliable source) and "I Am Iron Man" comics (many scenes are also different and cannot be seriously considered canon), Tony spent the night in the desert. The scenes in the book and the movie are very different. In the book, Tony was unconscious and unable to move when Rhodey found him. In the movie, Tony is not that exhausted. He couldn't walk all day and night in the desert and be so active. Also, it gets very cold there at night, and Tony used the jacket to cover his head from the sand, not to keep himself warm, which would have been more important. Still he's cold, but it's daytime (it is hot in the desert in April). Therefore, it must be from hypovolemic shock and not from the actual ambient temperature.

May 1 - Before returning home, Tony had to spend some time in a hospital at a military base in Afghanistan. During this time, he and Pepper were contacted by the Department of Defense, the FBI, and the CIA.

May 2 - Tony comes back to US.

Part 4

[23fallencomets]

for the actor logan fic can you tell us what kind of roles logan usually get? what was his career trajectory up until the fic? Im sososo excited driver x non-driver aus are always so fun

ooohh i haven’t really thought of that but we can establish that right now

so he’s been in the industry for 15~ years so he basically grew up in the eyes of the media. I put him as his generations heart throb so he usually gets romcoms because the awkward lover boy trope is a hit. he most definitely experimented with other genres: horror, thrillers, action, indie, sci-fi.

he’s a hit in romcoms and fantasy though. his one horror film did so well people wanted him in more and he was like “i had to see a therapist, i don’t know how the others do it” so horror, one and done.

would probably mess around with western style shows/movies. the longest show he had been on was a sitcom type of thing (friends, modern family, that 70s show type of beat) and it ran for ten seasons, so from from the ages 11 to 21.

he has a super clean reputation because he had seen how the media can turn on someone like nothing so he worked extremely hard to be a respectable person. He does still act like any other young person in their 20s but he will disappear the moment drugs or anything that can incriminate him appear.

people get suspicious about him since there’s literally no dirt on him but that’s just because logan knows how to act like a normal person and is a firm believer in boundaries.

mans was booked and busy so he takes a year off and that’s where formula one comes in!

his one connection to F1 is through liam because i’m a mess for lilo (literally the cutest ship name) and the fic timeline starts in miami :)

[acesandocs]

Some of the different phases in Åse's life.

3-6 Like most are at that age he's a curious but shy kid. He has at that point started to pick up on how a lot of people seem to dislike him but he doesn't know why. His mom and grandparents try to shield him from most of it but he still gets teased and bullied by a lot of the other kids though since he was so little at that point he couldn't do much about it. (theme)

6-9 This is the point he gets big enough to actually defend herself. This period is marked by a lot of visits from angry neighbors about whatever new fight he had gotten into with their kids. His mom usually didn't punish him for this though as even she knew nine times out of ten he was just defending himself. And while he didn't actively start exploring her gender identity until after she moved to America, she did start asking a lot of question about why certain things were only for boys or girls, like having short hair. He ended up cutting it himself after getting into an argument with his mom about it and it was mostly a decision made out of spite and just to see what would happen. (theme)

9-14 When he came into his preteens he had proven to be more trouble that he was worth so most left him alone at this point and just judged him from a distance. She also started making her own clothes and expressing herself though her fashion, taking a lot of inspiration from the fairy tale illustration in her favorite books. She also made her closest childhood friend when she was nine. And maybe she also wanted to look lovingly into her eyes and kiss her but all girls want to do that with their friends right? They stayed friends up until Åse had to move which was also her first heartbreak. (theme)

14-18 Maybe the worst part of her life if you asked her, not that she really want to talk about it anyway. Moving took a big toll on her and after a falling out with her mom she ran away from home. She fell in with a bad person who was very controlling and made her dress more to his liking than what she actually felt comfortable in. She wore a lot of dark colors and she felt and looked the least like herself. (theme)

18-19 After some questionable decisions and a short incarceration she officially became a fugitive from the law and thus started traveling west to escape the heat. He presented fully male at this point as well as starting to bind his chest. Traveling was ok enough and in some ways he got to fulfill a childhood dream of traveling the country. But the stress of not having a stable and safe place to sleep at night and not knowing if one bad run in with a cop could land her back in jail took a toll on her. So did all the back alley fighting matches he took part in to make money, its a miracle he still has all his teeth. (theme)

19-21 after getting scouted at a match in st Louis a subordinate of Atlas got him in touch with her and he offered her a job, to which she agreed. She was a bit of an outsider at first but eventually found her footing. He kept presenting male but did open up about his assigned gender to a few people. (theme)

21-22 while she wasn't all that close to Atlas his death still affected her through the shock waves it sent though the Lackadaisy. She might be the person with the most reason to pack up and leave other than maybe Horatio. Still she stays, because even if he doesn't want admit it she cares about these people. It took me a few tries to land on his default design but I feel he started to come together when I gave him the neckerchief. Its kind of a signature item and I try to include it in most of his designs now. He inherited it from his mom and thus didn't have it as a child. It kind of represent him stepping into being an independent adult. While the general style and length of his hair has stayed the same how I draw it is something I have and still struggle with. This is probably the closest Ive come to being happy with it. I struggled similarly with her pants as well for some reason. They have ended up looking more like bell bottoms than suit pants which isn't all that historically accurate but its ultimately what I think looks best. (theme)

[yenqa]

the line in between

synopsis — in which it’s new year’s eve, 1999. and jay finds you on his doorstep right before midnight.

warnings — lots of mentions of dying (no one actually is but they think they’re going to + no violence), i think that’s it lmk

pairing — jay x gn!reader (i think)

wordcount — 1053

a/n — this is kind of like apple cider au + that one scene of 25/21 combined but also ignore how this is lowkey my fic “smart” in a different font erm

“What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

You let out a nervous smile trying to convince him to let you in. Though he has no idea what you’re doing at his house on New Year's and minutes to midnight, he lets you in. Deciding to push aside the question looking at your anxious expression.

He moves aside, inviting you in. You thank him, hastily taking your shoes off and taking off your jacket. Jay notice’s the matching sweaters you’re wearing, both navy blue though yours looks much more warm than his.

You sit down on the couch, tapping on the cushion next for him to sit down. He takes the seat happily, you sit in silence, both awkwardly watching the new year’s show playing on the tv.

He decides that he’s prolonged the question enough, asking again with a slightly quieter voice, “What are you doing here?”

Chuckling, you answer. “My parents aren’t back from their vacation yet, their plane got delayed. And I got kinda scared for the new year.”

“Scared? You’ve been through it hundreds of times.”

You nod, the situation almost feels too vulnerable. As if you moved a single inch the room would crumble in pieces.

“I heard someone say the world was going to end or go into chaos, I didn’t want to be alone if it was.”

He laughs. And you crack a smile hearing yourself.

You’re not usually one to believe superstitions or conspiracy theories. But so many were freaking out for the end of the century and you can’t say you weren’t either. The silly theories had gone to your head this time, leading you to where you were five minutes earlier, knocking on Jay’s door.

“You believe that?”

Shrugging, you say, “Anything could happen.”

Jay isn’t the kind to believe in that stuff, he finds it interesting but never enough to be scared of anything. Though he finds your gullibleness funny, he finds it cute how you balance eachother out, You’re usually energetic, and he’s always calm and laid back. You like romance books, he likes thriller and horror books. Even though you’re much better at not being nervous when reading those kinds of things—except for situations like now.

To put it simply, you perfectly balance eachother out, like yin and yang. You’re the perfect pair. The perfect pair of friends.

Though you wouldn’t say you’re friends. If anything your relationship is closer to a couple than anything. He’s never mentioned it, and you were still wondering about it yourself.

Is the line between friends and lovers supposed to be harsh? Should it be clear as day in the end or should it sneak up to you before you even know it? The line seems to blur every time your hands linger near each other, or the stares from afar seem to be too frequent to be an accident.

You find it stupid how a stupid line can define your relationship. But it really does. The blurred line makes it impossible for you two to be anything. On top of the line is fear. You don’t want to lose him because you were being too quick to do anything. You don’t want to lose him because he might not be the same way if anything did happen. You just didn’t want to lose the bond you had.

He snaps you out of your thoughts, asking, “Do you want something to drink, apple? I think we have apple cider, your favorite.”

His nickname for you had been there for years. Since he first saw you chug down a cup of apple cider on the New year’s you met, when you were both ten. You’re still surprised when he pulls that nickname out for you, sometimes it’s every day, sometimes you don’t hear it for weeks.

“No it’s okay, I’m too tired to have any.”

He raises an eyebrow, “It could wake you up?”

You stop to think about it for a few seconds, I mean nothing bad could happen while he’s away right? “Fine, but only if you have some. Be quick though! I don’t want to be alone when midnight strikes.”

He salutes, rushing to his kitchen. You sit in silence, zoning out you stare at the plant right next to his tv. Snapping out of it when fans start cheering on the tv. you’re quick to look around when the thirty second timer starts ticking down.

“Jay, hurry up! You’re going to miss it and die alone!” You call, he rushed back, stomping on the floor loudly to get back to the living room.

Just in time he hands you your drink, sitting down just where he was earlier. Taking a few sips and turning to him, you smile, “You made it.”

He grins, “Of course I did.”

You turn away, watching as the timer ticks down somehow so slowly but too fast for you. Your heart starts racing and you’re not sure whether it’s for the new year or the eyes next to you staring at you with a soft smile.

The timer gets to ten and your heart starts beating out of your chest, trying to calm down you turn to Jay, asking , “Can I hold onto your arm? I’m nervous.”

Jay laughs quietly, gently pushing your head on his shoulder so you can comfortably wrap your arm around his, squeezing it gently. You watch as the numbers sum down to 5, quietly counting down the numbers just so the other can hear.

You look back up with him, letting out a breathy laugh, “Happy New Year, Jay”

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

You try to stay awake with all your might, hoping that if the night ends now you’ll at least have some last words, but your drowsiness takes over, and you’re asleep before you know it.

Jay looks down at your calm state, the squeeze you once had on his arm had been completely abandoned, leaving his arm cold and lonely. He watches as your chest rises and falls with every breath, he lets out a lovesick smile. One he would never let anyone see.

Though tonight everyone he knows and loves—including himself, might die or go into chaos just as you said. He decides he wouldn’t mind this being his last view before it all ends.

taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[tagthescullion]

What are your thoughts on any adults in the legion?

Because we know there have to be adults; Frank says that everyone has to serve ten years. Most demigods show up around the age of 12-13. Jason, arriving at New Rome at 2-3 years old, was unusually young, has already had a dozen years marked on his arm and could leave if he wanted, even though he apparently had no desire to up until BOO; Frank, arriving a couple of months before his sixteenth birthday, was unusually old.

So there have to be older demigods, demigods in their twenties. If Frank only steps down once he's been in the legion for ten years (which considering Reyna stepped down with only five years marked is no sure guarantee, but I guess once you're praetor you can do what you want) he'll be 25-26 then.

Even for younger demigods, if you show up at the legion at 12, you're in the legion until you're 22.

Which means that a portion of the legion should be demigods - and legacies - in their twenties, 21 and 22 and 23, closer to finishing their term of service than beginning it, with seven or eight or nine years of experience. Actual adult demigods.

Where were any of them in the series? Why does the entire army seem to be made up completely of teenagers?

And why the Hades aren't any of these older demigods running New Rome instead of a couple of 15-16 year olds being elected praetor?

the answer to every single one of your questions is: rick riordan's favouritism (that and once more: the series were for middle-schoolers/teenagers*)

frankly, I don't understand why the fuck he wrote a whole series based on the argument that there is another set of campers and then just.. never explained shit. ever. other than to say "chb is better, even if demigods never reach >18 years of age"

here's what I think, which ofc is just hcs and conjectures:

demigods generally range between 11-25 y/o at CJ

CJ is a summer military camp, made into a sort of boarding school thing during the year, that way children can go back to their families if they so wish to

after you finish your secondary school education, you're free to go to university (if you haven't settled your 10 years at CJ, you keep attending during the summer, same as the rest of the year-rounders)

this was the second war in two years, making it likely many adult demigods died defending CJ/NR the year before, allowing for teenagers jason and reyna's age to be praetors/army leaders

that and percy & co. are rather independent forces of nature, they never even noticed there were adults willing to die for the cause around

*I feel like this is spoken about every so often but don't forget that children's books are written for children. that's why the protagonists are young, and why child armies are a thing, and why so many crimes that completely obliterate children's rights happen in these stories.. they are for kids to live the adventure at the same pace as the main characters

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 14/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011) THIRTEEN (2012)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – 2013

                The Bronco still isn’t up and running, he doesn’t have enough time to dedicate to it unless he’s got weeks of leave. Fortunately Ice lets him bring it home to the house when he’s back so he can work on it without trekking back and forth to the hangar. Then Ice goes one step better and makes Mav finally clear out the garage at Bradley’s house, and he can suddenly store and work on it even in shorter bursts of time. Natasha is still working on getting the engine restored, but she thinks another week of solid work should have it turning over. Of course, it’s getting the time together to work on it which proves elusive. Mav offers to help and Bradley gladly accepts, he doesn’t want to ignore it or have it languishing for years and end up a retirement project. He can see what it’ll look like in his mind and it’s beautiful.

…            …            …

                Pete didn’t think he’d have to knock and wait. Petra just has a friend over, they were meant to be studying. He’s not sure what they were studying exactly, but it wasn’t in any book. Each other’s anatomy maybe. He picks up his phone and paces back and forth in the garage, not ashamed by the fact that he is in fact hiding from his own daughter.

                God fucking damnit, why won’t Ice answer the damn phone already?

                “Pete? Is everything okay?”

                “I, yes, everyone is fine. Physically. Mentally however, I might be scarred for life. I might have scarred Petra for life!”

                There’s a longer than usual pause on the other end.

                “Pete, it’s late afternoon and I will be home in just over an hour, can it wait?”

                “Did you know Petra has a girlfriend?”

                “Oh. Huh. Guess you got your wish about her never being interested in boys…”

                “Ice!” Pete exclaims, because this isn’t funny, although he can hear someone laughing in the background. “Am I on speaker?” he asks suspiciously.

                “No. But funnily enough noise carries through my phone quite well when you raise your voice. I have Slider and Aubrey in the room. I’m actually doing work, because you know, I’m at work?”

                “No no, this is far more amusing than the latest budgetary constraints. What did you see Mav?” Slider asks, and Pete rolls his eyes, remembers now that he’s meant to be coming to stay.

                “Too much. I saw too much.”

                “Maverick. I’ll be home soon. Just take a deep breath. Take something apart and put it back together again… but not the coffee maker.”

                “That was one time!”

                “The first, only and last time. Just… see if you can fix the toaster.”

                “You don’t think I need to talk to her?”

                “And tell her what? The last time you slept with a woman was… what, at least twenty years ago?”

                “I don’t need to give her tips! I was talking more about, consent, and taking things at her own pace… Not rushing into things!”

                “She’s your daughter Mav, she only has one pace and that’s full-speed ahead.”

                “Oh god…” Pete groans, because Ice is so right.

                There’s more muffled laughing and Pete wonders if this is karma.

                “Fortunately Pete, her mother is a lesbian and likely far more equipped to handle the appropriate birds and bees talk,” Tom pauses. “Birds and birds?”

                “Wait. Who gave Bradley that talk?”

                “I did.”

                “When?”

                “About fifteen years ago. Mav! He’s coming up thirty. I hope you don’t think he’s still…”

                “I try not to think about it to be honest!”

                “Yeah well, lucky you. I had to take him through the safe sex talk. Twice.”

                “Huh. I mean, at least we don’t have to worry about her getting pregnant? I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

                There’s more laughter and he wonders if he can put something nasty in Slider’s drink.

                “Mav. Pete. I’ll be home soon. Just go and find the toaster and take it apart okay?”

                “Yeah. Yeah okay.”

…            …            …

                Tom hangs up and looks at Slider and Aubrey, both who are silently laughing. He might as well have had Mav on speaker for how loud his voice had been. He should have probably turned the volume down, but he has no secrets from either of them.

                “Sorry about that.”

                “Oh, don’t be. Seriously, that was the best laugh I’ve had in a long time. Definitely beats talking shop.”

                “I thought it might be something serious.”

                “It is serious,” Aubrey interjects. “To him. And no doubt to Petra as well. Go home sir. I think your family need you there more than we need you here. I have all the material we need.”

                “Okay. Well, if you’re sure?”

                “Of course. Have a good weekend.”

                “You too.”

                She leaves and he stands, starts packing away his things, taking nothing work related home for once given that Slider is staying, which means no time to do work.

                “I’m going to take the rental car and I’ll be around later. After you give me the all clear that it’s safe to turn up. I do not need to be entangled in your family drama.”

                “You don’t have to do that.”

                “Oh, I’m doing it for my sake. Plus I need to go shopping.”

                “Why, what do you need?”

                “Oh, I don’t need anything. You, however, are going to need a new toaster.”

                Tom sighs, because he’s probably right. He needs to talk to Melissa and Sarah.

…            …            …

                “Okay. So family conference time.”

                “This is stupid,” Petra mutters and Ice looks at him, like it’s his fault that she’s this way. Huh. Maybe it is, he has no idea how genetics work.

                “We just think we need to have an open and honest conversation…”

                “Learn how to knock and wait.”

                “Yes, that too, but also, it would have been polite if you had introduced us to your…”

                “Friend. Cassie is my friend. You’ve met her before! I shouldn’t need to introduce my friends every time they come over.”

                “Do you kiss all your friends like that?” Pete asks, and he realizes he maybe doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

                “Is it any of your business if I do?”

                He frowns, because no, he guesses it isn’t. He looks at Ice, who is rubbing his temples.

                “It was just a shock…” Pete starts again, feeling completely out of depth. Maybe he should have prepared for this better.

                “That’s not my problem! That’s a you problem! And I don’t need to come out. If anything, Tamsin should come out.”

                Pete’s eyebrows go up, looks to Tamsin who is already rolling her eyes and he cannot wait to tell Bradley all about this conversation when they have their weekly talk tomorrow.

                “Do you have something you want to share with us sweetheart?”

                “That I’m straight? Is that what I need to say?” Tamsin asks, looking at Petra with an incredibly unimpressed look and Pete has no idea how to get the conversation back on track, if it was ever on a track to start with. Tom is standing there silently, which is absolutely fucking useless.

                “If the shoe fits.”

                “There’s nothing wrong with being straight!”

                “In this family?” Petra snaps back, sneering at her and Pete blinks. He’d thought they got on well. What the hell is happening?

                “Of course there’s nothing wrong… there’s nothing wrong with any orientation or how you might identify. I would hope you both know that,” he starts, looking frantically to Ice for backup who continues to just stand there quietly.

                “Yeah, so shoot me, I’m the token straight family member.”

                “Okay… what did we just walk in on?” Sarah asks, standing in the doorway and Pete feels so relieved

                “Tamsin just came out as straight,” Petra snaps.

                Sarah and Melissa exchange a look, holding a conversation the same way he and Ice do, years of practice communicating silently. Although he admits he sometimes pretends to misinterpret what Ice wants on purpose just to rile him up a bit.

                “Okay… we’ve already had this conversation. Labels aren’t always helpful.”

                Pete winces inwardly, because of course Sarah and Melissa are all over this, they’re the stable present parents and they know their daughters much better than he does.

                “I know! I’m figuring shit out. Just… can we not talk about it? Please?”

                Then she’s pushing her chair back and running toward her room and fuck, he thinks he’s maybe fucked up.

                “Shit. Sorry. I kind of went about this the wrong way huh?”

                “You think?” Tamsin asks, looking between all the adults like she can’t believe how idiotic they all are. It’s a look so reminiscent of Ice that Pete can’t help but be amused, but he’s got years of practice ensuring it doesn’t show on his face.

                “Just… we love you okay? Know that.”

                “I know. We both know. We love you too.”

…            …            …

                There has been a shift, a subtle one, but still a shift. There aren’t blatant come-ons, but there is definitely less fear, especially among the younger and newer servicemen, ones who have maybe served equal times under DADT and then not, the habits of years not so ingrained and as he watches some of the others hook up and start likely ill-advised affairs he wonders what it must be like to not have over a decade of hiding such a large part of who you are. It makes him a little uncomfortable when he thinks about it too much, so he shoves it down and away, doesn’t let him think about it too much other than in passing.

                Plus he’s not sure whether he’s cut out to be a boyfriend, his relationship with Callum often feeling awkward, like they’re constantly on their best behavior and apart from the sex being really good, he’s not quite sure if it’s the fact that every moment not in bed feels like it’s a first date every time, or whether between him being deployed and Callum’s work they just don’t have the time to make it work. Or, more to the point, the desire to make it work.

…            …            …

                “What are you singing?” Tom asks, because watching his two teenage daughters having fun and laughing will always bring him joy, but the fact that Maverick is standing in the corner filming and grinning like he’s up to something has him suspicious.

                “Hey, all right now, all right now, fellas!”

                “Yeah?” Petra scream-yells and Maverick is grinning widely.

                “Now, what's cooler than being cool?”

                “Ice Cold!”

                “I can't hear ya! I say what's, what's cooler than being cool?”

                “Ice Cold!”

                He meets Pete’s shit eating grin with dead eyes, expression grim. Inwardly he’s amused, but he never passes up an opportunity to screw with Pete if he can, and this is harmless. Petra and Tamsin continue singing and dancing, but Pete’s straightening up from his slouch, looking contrite. He’s glad there isn’t a camera pointed toward him, capturing the expression on his face because he doesn’t think he could keep a straight face if he was being filmed.

                “Ice, Tom… it isn’t…”

                It definitely is something, because there’s no reason for Mav to be acting so guilty and apologetic otherwise. But he can’t keep the grin from his face, loops his arms around Pete and pulls him into his arms and kisses him, still feeling the little swoop of unease about doing this in front of other people, even if they’re his own kids. It’s a slow process to suddenly be okay with being affectionate with Maverick when other people can see.

                “Ew. Gross. Parents kissing.”

…            …            …

                Bradley doesn’t know where he thought he’d be at thirty, and where he is isn’t bad, but he just thought he’d have maybe more of his shit together. Hell, Tamsin seems to not only have a five year plan, but a ten and twenty year plan and if he didn’t know she was Ice’s daughter that would be all the evidence he needed right there. He has another ten to fifteen years of flying if he wants it, he could go commercial and make it last longer, but he doesn’t really know what he wants, so will remain in the holding pattern he’s in. Unfortunately the holding pattern involves having a 30th birthday party he’d rather ignore.

                “You don’t want to invite Callum to your birthday party?”

                “No! Look, Callum and I aren’t serious.”

                “Oh. I thought…

                “Well, you thought wrong.”

                A few weeks later he’s not surprised when Callum breaks it off before his next deployment, telling him that while they might connect physically, it’s not something that can make the foundation of a relationship, not for him. He does think Bradley will one day make some guy really happy, but that maybe he thinks about how much effort he needs to put into his next relationship. He stews over that a bit, because it’s not like Callum was the most available or present, even when they’d spent time together Bradley had felt he’d always come in second place to Callum’s job. Then again, he’s pretty sure Callum feels the same about his job.

                It shouldn’t require effort, it shouldn’t be work. Or rather, he’ll want to do it, so it won’t feel like it’s a chore. His breakup with Callum doesn’t leave him heartbroken, but it does make him reflect on what he does and doesn’t want, and he guesses that’s the whole point of relationships, to find what works and what doesn’t. There were far too many non-negotiables that they couldn’t work through to make anything long-term work out and they already knew that going in, so he guesses Patrick and Christopher were pretty good judges at least.

                He’s deployed with Javy, and he worries briefly that he will know all about him and Jake. He either doesn’t know, or he’s damned good at pretending that Bradley hasn’t treated his best friend like shit. Not that it probably looks that way from a casual observer, but the guilt he feels tells him he hasn’t exactly been the nicest of people. He’s not quite sure how to make it better or right, but at the bare minimum he should probably apologize the next time he sees him. If Jake lets him.

…            …            …

                They find more cancer, but his annual checkups that Melissa bullies him into mean that it’s small. Because Melissa is his doctor he knows he cannot keep it a secret from Sarah. He wonders if he should admit to anyone that there are two women in his life that he cowers under the gaze of. And one isn’t his ex-wife. Sarah might have a special place in his heart, but she isn’t someone that Tom hasn’t ever just acquiesced to. Melissa and now Aubrey, they’re both women that Tom knows, respects and trusts implicitly. And is also a little afraid of if he’s honest with himself, their competency at things he’s not knowledgeable enough about to have as strong an opinion as them. So he trusts them.

                He just doesn’t like it when they join forces.

…            …            …

                He rolls up his sleeves and starts working on the rust spots on the Bronco. He’s only got two weeks, and Maverick is off somewhere he can’t share, but isn’t active duty at least so he won’t worry about him. Although he is still Mav. Tamsin and Petra help him, chattering away about their classes and Tamsin about her plans for study and starting college. It makes him feel old. When Petra complains about not knowing what she wants to do when she’s older he just laughs and shakes his head.

                “You’ve still got a few years yet. Don’t worry about it.”

                “But you knew. Tamsin knows. Dad and Papa both knew. Mom and Mama knew. Surely you figure things out.”

                “Well, I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes you don’t know and you just go along with whatever feels right at the time…”

                “Is that what you did?”

                “Well… sort of. I didn’t back then but I’m sort of doing it now.”

                “Wait. Do you not know what you want to be when you’re grown up either?”

                He snorts in amusement at her phrasing.

                “No. I guess not.”

                “But you’re ancient! You’re twice as old as me.”

                “Yeah, thanks for pointing that out Pet. I never figured out how to do maths.”

                “Haha. I just thought you might had forgotten at your advanced age.”

                “Wow. Just… wow. The cheek of youth these days. You want me to drive you around while I’m on leave, or do you want to be asking your parents?”

                “Ugh. Fine.”

                “Yeah well, the rust isn’t removing itself. Come on.”

                “Fine. Is Natasha coming to visit? Does she know you don’t want to keep flying?”

                “Uh. No. She’s currently deployed in the Atlantic. Why? Plus I love flying, I want to keep flying.”

                “Oh. No reason. And that’s cool. I just thought you might do what Dad did and become an admiral or something.”

                “I can give you her number if you like. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. And becoming an admiral is… well, it sure is something I guess.”

                He’s not even making it up, because Natasha asks about them every time they talk, Petra especially, and he knows it might be because Petra is only a couple years older than whatever kid Natasha might have had, had she decided on a different path. It’s his own path he can’t see very clearly at the moment.

…            …            …

                He looks at the movie title, casts his mind back to the scene in the kitchen of his husband and daughters dancing and singing. This will likely give them ammunition for years but the warmth he feels when he thinks about them being silly and loving makes him smile so he goes in and buys four tickets for Frozen.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; james

requested by ; anonymous (21/05/23)

fandom(s) ; pokémon

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; james

outline ; “OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE WILLING TO WRITE FOR TEAM ROCKET IM SO EXCITED

ok ok so uh may I request general dating hcs for both jessie and james please ? (maybe someone who has a good living since both are homeless 🥹) THANK YOU !!”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

despite his work as a member of team rocket, james is an incredibly sweet and attentive partner — the type who has a keen memory for everything you love and who will do anything he can to boost your confidence and make you smile whenever you’re together (he’s your #1 cheerleader even if he isn’t the most confident in himself most of the time — but he’s working on improving that with your help)

he doesn’t talk about his family, or his past in general, all that often but he when he does he always has something positive to say about his grandparents (his parents and ex fiancée less so, he loves his parents but they aren’t on the best terms at the moment and jessiebelle is, well, jessiebelle and enough is said about that) — and when you finally met ‘nanny’ and ‘pop pop’, they absolutely adored you (both as your own person and because of how happy you make their sweet little grandson)

if you wear makeup then he’s more than happy to help you put it on or perfect a look — he has a keen eye and a steady hand that comes in handy if you struggle with symmetry — and on a similar note he’s also happy to let you put makeup on him or to do his makeup alongside yours (he’s far from opposed to dressing up, cross-dressing, or wearing costumes with you, after all)

james loves using terms of endearment with you, to the extent that you’ll rarely even hear him say your first name unless it’s a necessary formality (like a first introduction or for a dinner booking), and they range from cutesy to traditional depending on his mood — for example, when he’s feeling dejected and clingy after being scolded by giovanni then he’ll curl up on your lap and call you ‘hun’ and ‘sweetie’ as he vents his woes to you, but when he’s in a more flirty mood then he might dip you in his arms and call you ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’ (context matters more than anything here, but he has been known to use just about any pet name in any situation)

he’s a complete gentleman and will go the full nine yards to woo you even after you’ve been officially together for what feels like forever — partially down to his upbringing and the expectations pushed upon him by it, and partially because he’s just that sweet — which includes him doing things like: bending down and kissing the back of your hands/each of your knuckles, opening car doors for you and helping you step out, holding doors open for you in whatever building you’re in, buying you flowers whenever he can scrape together the funds to do so (he may have been born wealthy but nowadays, not so much), offering you his coat whenever you mention being cold, and other things along those lines

jessie has caught him staring at you, or staring into nothingness whilst clearly thinking about you, more times than she’d ever care to count and this eternal puppy-love state has caused the trio to mess up on missions because james is just too distracted to stick to the plan — it would be adorable in any other situation but it usually frustrates her to the point of anger because that mistake was so avoidable, why can’t you just be normal about them for ten minutes?

when it comes to sleeping, james isn’t too bothered about what position you drift off in as long as the two of you are cuddling — he can fall asleep wherever he is, and being in a proper bed for the first time in weeks helps, but he sleeps most peacefully when he can hear your breathing and can feel your weight and body heat right up against him when he’s with you

whenever his team fails a mission, or he’s scolded by someone, you’re the first person he gets in contact with — either finding a phone to call you or stumbling sadly through your door and collapsing in your arms and just… staying like that for a while as he briefly lets himself forget what had left him feeling so low (you’re his rock, really, and he’d do the same for you if you needed it, but for now all he needs is to hear your voice and know that you still love and accept him as he is — despite all of his mistakes and failures)

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drinking,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷

Chapter 8

After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.

My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”

“Sure,” I said.

“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.

I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.

I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.

Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”

About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”

There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.

I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”

New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.

Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”

He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.

Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”

I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.

“Sure, Honey, what is it?”

“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”

“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”

With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.

The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”

As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”

I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.

When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.

I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.

Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.

A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.

I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.

The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.

The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.

“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”

Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”

“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”

I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.

“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”

Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”

He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”

Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”

“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”

“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”

“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”

“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”

“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.

Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.

Germany

Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.

The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”

The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.

“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.

“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.

“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.

“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”

“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.

“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.

I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?

When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”

Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”

Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?

I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.

My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.

Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.

I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.

“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”

“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”

She buried her face in her hands and began crying.

I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.

“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”

Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.

“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”

She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”

I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”

Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.

One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”

“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”

Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.

This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.

In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.

Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.

I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

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a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀