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sesamestreep · 1 year ago

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Jyn/Cassian, 11

11. 3 AM and I'm still awake (from this prompt list) sometimes, in order to defeat the prompts that are still in your inbox after a YEAR, you have to go into the archives, find an AU you wrote in 2019 (ON PAPER), type it up, and post the first chapter as a prompt fill even though the full fic is incomplete and that stresses you out to think about. this is one of those times. known affectionately amongst a small circle of mutuals by its draft name "sir, this is an IHOP", I'm releasing this one from the vault, please clap... cross posted to AO3 here 🌒🌔

The question Jyn gets asked the most when she tells people she works the overnight shift at a 24-hour diner is, “How do you do it?” As if she’s just admitted to shooting herself out of a canon for a living, which, to be fair, is a thing she wanted to do as a career when she was nine, but that’s beside the point.

The answer to this question is simple: you get used to it. Or, in Jyn’s experience, your life sucks for three weeks while you get used to it and then you get used to it. After that, the weird hours and irregular sleep schedule just become routine.

To be fair, she only started doing the graveyard shift in the first place because she wasn’t sleeping at night anyway and she could get more hours that way. Now, sometimes, she sleeps perfectly well in the daytime when everyone else is at work and then, other times, she doesn’t sleep at all and becomes convinced that she’s the first human being who was born with a biological indifference to sleep. Either way, she manages.

And it’s not actually that bad. The tips are a little worse because there’s fewer customers and they tend to be drunks or insomniacs or plain weirdos who don’t get the concept of twenty percent for good service and usually leave her whatever change they have on them. And sometimes it’s so dead that Jyn literally counts the seconds on the big clock by the door. But it’s also calmer than any other shift at the diner, and sometimes people feel so bad for her being up all night that they tip her extra, which is nice. It all balances out, really.

That being said, the overnight shift doesn’t lend itself to regulars the way other shifts do. She has some, but they don’t tend to be regular regulars. At most, she sees the same drunk college students show up there for breakfast at two a.m. but not the same day every week. Her co-workers that work other shifts talk about old couples that come in for dinner three times a week and always want to sit in the same booth, or the father and daughter who get breakfast every Saturday together that the entire staff fawns over. Jyn doesn’t get regulars like that, and even if she sees the same people, most people don’t want to make conversation as they’re inhaling pancakes in the wee hours of the morning. They barely want to make eye contact with her, honestly.

Not that Jyn minds. She didn’t get into waitressing because of her bubbly personality. She’s good at it, can be pleasant and accommodating when she needs to be, but she’s also fine with customers not wanting to chitchat. It’s one of the perks of the shift, in her mind, and why it suits her to work it, rather than the breakfast or the lunch shift.

Then, she gets a regular of her own and it doesn’t change everything, but it changes enough.

The first time he comes in, the restaurant is so dead that for once the manager on duty isn’t on Jyn’s case about drawing in her sketchbook while she’s working. It’s that slow. There’s a couple at a table in the corner that started out their meal by bickering with each other loudly and now Jyn’s pretty sure one or both of them is asleep at the table. She already gave them their check, though, so she’s giving them at least an hour before she bugs them about it. It’s not like she needs to turn over the table or anything.

When the man comes in, the place is so empty that he actually looks around in confusion, which catches Jyn’s attention from where she’s hiding behind the cash register.

“Sit anywhere you like,” she calls to him, half-relieved to have something to do and half-annoyed to have to do anything.

“Oh. You’re open, then?”

“As long as it’s one of the twenty-four hours in the day,” she replies, trying to sound sunny.

“Last time I checked,” the man says, sounding unsure, which makes Jyn smile for real.

She brings a menu over to the table he settles at and offers him her more standard customer service smile. “Hi, I’m Jyn. I’ll be your server this…morning. Can I get you anything to start?”

“Coffee, please.”

“Regular or decaf?”

“Regular, thanks.”

“Sure,” she says. Then she loses her mind momentarily, because she follows it up with, “You want crayons?”

That question clearly throws him, and for good reason. “What?” He asks, blinking up at her.

“Do you want crayons? To color in your placemat?” Jyn asks, less casually. She doesn’t know why she asked in the first place—he doesn’t look like the type, by virtue of not having any children with him and looking to be older than her, if she had to guess—but she does it anyway. Maybe she’s a little punchy from having no one to talk to all night.

Thankfully, he laughs, more like he’s surprised than anything else, but it still counts. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

She nods and heads off to get him his coffee. When she returns to his table with it, she doesn’t bother asking if he’s ready to order yet, because he’s still got his head bent over the enormous menu, reading it intently. She pops back over to her spot behind the register and resumes the sketch she’d been working on of the couple at the back table. She’s sure now that they are both, in fact, asleep, which is going to make it very awkward to get them to pay their bill.

A few minutes later, she hears the man at the other table clears his throat and she looks up, trying to mask her annoyance. When she does, though, she sees he’s not looking in her direction and probably didn’t do it to get her attention. Still, she should probably go check on him.

“Are you ready to order?” She asks, pulling out her order pad as she sidles up to his table.

“I—well, actually, I have to ask: why did you think I would want crayons?”

Jyn shrugs. “Technically, I’m only supposed to offer them to customers under twelve, but I think that’s bullshit. Kids aren't the only people who like to color.”

The man nods, processing this. “Okay. Not the answer I was expecting. I thought it was your way of saying I looked young.”

“No, no,” she says, and then winces. “I mean, you don’t look old or anything. You just definitely don’t look under twelve.”

“Then my disguise is working perfectly,” he says, half to himself.

Jyn snorts. “Is this your way of saying you do want crayons?”

“No, I’m all set. I think I’ll just have some eggs.”

Jyn gets the specifics of his order from him and goes to deliver the ticket to the kitchen. When that’s done, she decides it’s past time to finally collect her payment from the sleeping couple in the back. Under the guise of cleaning plates out of their way, she makes as much noise with the silverware as humanly possible, which causes the man to wake up. When she pointedly asks if there’s anything else they need, he grumbles a response in the negative and jostles his girlfriend’s wrist to wake her up too.

“You can pay right up front,” Jyn says, cheerily, before she swans away with their dishes.

After a few minutes, they come up to the cash register to pay her, even though it’s technically the manager’s job to run the register. He can’t be bothered when it’s this quiet. They don’t give her a tip then and there, but she holds out hope that they left her some cash on the table, which she checks as soon as they’ve gone. Of course, there’s nothing there and she curses under her breath before she buses the remaining dishes. She goes back again with a rag to wipe down the table, even though that’s yet another thing the manager is supposed to be helping with during overnight shifts. By the time she’s done with all that, the other man’s food is up and she goes to deliver it.

“Do you need anything else?” she asks, once she’s dropped off his food. “More coffee?”

“Yes, but could I switch to decaf?” he asks, looking like he’s asking for a kidney rather than something completely reasonable.

“No,” she says, automatically.

“Oh, I—what?”

“Sorry, that was—I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t funny,” she says, feeling her face heat with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” the man says, waving a hand. “It’s fine.”

“It’s just—it’s a restaurant. You can have whatever you want.”

“Right,” the man says, smiling faintly in either amusement or confusion, like he’s not really sure what to do with her. And who could blame him for that?

“You were being polite. I shouldn’t have made fun of you,” Jyn says, fully mortified at this point. He’s definitely not going to leave her a tip now, which means this whole shift has pretty much been a bust.

“It’s really fine,” he says. “I probably would have caught on faster if it wasn’t…”

“3 AM?” Jyn suggests.

“Yeah,” he says, with a full, self-deprecating smile that catches Jyn completely off-guard. People shouldn’t be allowed to be that attractive without warning.

“I’ll get you that decaf coffee,” she says, trying to sneak off and preserve at least some of her dignity. He thanks her as she’s retreating, and when she refills his mug, she says as little as possible so she doesn’t end up accidentally insulting him again.

It makes things a little weird, realizing he’s cute at the same time as he becomes her only customer in the entire diner. She’s supposed to be checking in to see if he needs anything but it also feels suspiciously like fawning over him. Has it really been this long since she’s had a hot customer at this godforsaken place? She tries to distract herself with drawing, but her latest subjects just left. She’s also not supposed to be doing that where customers can see and the man is seated right across from the counter, putting her directly in his sight line. It’s unfortunate, really, in more ways than one, because he’d be fun to draw, with his messy hair and his stubble and the lines around his eyes, but doing so would involve watching him even more intently and that’s a level of weird she just isn’t willing to stoop to.

While she’s absolutely not staring at him at all, she does just so happen to notice the moment he takes off his jacket. His table is directly in the path of the draft from the front door, so it didn't seem weird for him to keep it on, because that section of the diner is always freezing. Now, though, with the jacket off, she can see he’s wearing some sort of uniform—crisply pressed navy blue pants with a matching shirt that has a patch over the pocket that she can’t read from this far away. He’s got an ID badge too, which she also can’t read, clipped to his pocket.

To her surprise, he’s not distracting himself from his lonesome meal by messing around on his phone, like most customers and honestly even she would be doing while eating alone in a restaurant. He is occasionally throwing a glance in the direction of the TV hanging in the corner, which is set to a channel playing reruns of “Murder, She Wrote” for no other reason than there’s nothing more interesting on at this hour.

Jyn hates the feeling of having too little to do and she especially hates having just one customer and feeling like she’s creepily watching their every move, so after what feels like an appropriate amount of time, she makes her way over to the man’s table, doing her best to seem casual.

“How is everything?” she asks when she gets there, even though she could have just as easily asked that from the counter. It wouldn’t have been professional, she decides, even if there is literally no one else around. She, of course, manages to catch him right in the middle of a sip of coffee, which is a special kind of superpower one only develops as a server.

He swallows and offers her an apologetic smile. “Everything’s great, thank you.”

“More coffee?” she asks, when she notices his mug is close to empty.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“Decaf still?”

He laughs at that, for some reason. “Yes. I promise I won’t switch back and forth the whole night.”

Jyn shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, really. It gives me something to do.”

“Still,” he says. “Decaf would be great.”

“You got it.” She heads off to retrieve the pot of decaf and swings back to refill his cup. After he thanks her again, she asks, “Coming or going?”

He blinks at her in confusion for a moment. “I’m sorry?” he asks.

“No, I’m—” Jyn stops short, feeling ridiculous. “I just meant—are you coming from work, or going there?”

“Oh,” he says. “How did you—?”

“The uniform,” she replies, gesturing gingerly to his clothes with the coffee pot.

“Right. Of course,” the man says, looking down as if he hadn’t realized she could see him at all. “Uh, coming from.”

“What?”

“To answer your question,” he says, looking pained. Not that Jyn can blame him; this has been a trainwreck of a conversation so far, thanks mostly to her. “I just got off work.”

“So this is dinner, then?” Jyn asks.

The man laughs and it’s a strange, reluctant sound. “I guess so.”

“That explains the decaf.”

“Sure.”

“Not the one cup of regular coffee, though.”

That gets another laugh out of him, though he appears less surprised by it this time. “Does everyone who comes here have to justify their caffeine habits?” he asks, not sounding offended.

“Only the people unfortunate enough to sit in my section,” Jyn replies. It’s not worth pointing out that the entire restaurant is her section at this hour.

“I see,” he says. “Well, the cup of regular coffee is to give me enough energy to get back to my apartment without falling asleep at crosswalks, if you must know.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

“I’m glad you approve. You had me worried for a second there,” he says, and it lands somewhere between outright sarcasm and flirting, which is enough to make Jyn want to pull back.

“Yes, well, now that we’ve got that figured out, I suppose you deserve the chance to finish your meal in peace,” she replies, formally, and fights the urge to wince at how stupid she sounds.

“Okay,” the man says, sounding amused again as Jyn turns around and retreats back to the safe haven of the cash register to hide from the awkwardness she’s created.

Luckily for her, after only a few minutes, she gets another table to distract her. It’s four people who appear to be college students and they thankfully don’t seem to be wasted, which is a surprise, even for a Tuesday morning. It’s a nice change of pace for the typical night shift. If Jyn had to guess, they probably just came from studying late at the library. Then again, she never did the whole college thing, so she could be wrong. All of her knowledge of what it’s like comes from TV shows. The college kids are nice enough, if a little boisterous for this time of night, when she takes their orders, which is what matters. Once she gets everything in to the kitchen, Jyn decides it’s probably safe to check on the man who’s there alone again.

When she approaches his table, she sees that he’s done eating and that he’s gotten distracted by his phone. He’s reading some message with his eyebrows drawn together in concern, but he looks up as soon as he hears her coming and his face clears in a deliberate way that suggests he knows he was pulling a face and that he doesn’t want to be asked about it. Not that she would, honestly, even without the signal. It’s one thing to be weird about his coffee ordering habits—she’s his waitress and she’s bored; sometimes people like to banter with their servers—but she doesn’t know him at all. She’s not going to ask who’s texting him. That’s none of her business, even if her curiosity seems to be piqued by everything he does.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asks, as pleasantly and professionally as possible, even as her mind fills in a fake backstory of an emotional affair with a co-worker that’s turned sour and now results in petty 3 AM text messages that make him scowl at his phone.

“Just the check would be great.”

“Of course,” she says, and goes off to fetch it. She returns and drops it off at the table with a breezy, “You can pay at the counter whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” he replies, without looking up, and Jyn retreats again behind the counter, to wait for him or for her college students’ order to be up, whichever comes first.

The man takes a few minutes to finish his coffee and get his jacket back on, but he doesn’t hold up the table, which is nice. Even when the restaurant is empty like this, Jyn hates when people linger. It shouldn’t bother her, really—they’re paying customers, after all—but it still drives her nuts. She pushes off the back wall when she sees him approaching the counter and he has the audacity to look kind of shy when their eyes meet. Has this guy never met a waitress before? Is he a shut-in or something? And most importantly, why does she care? Hot people shouldn’t be allowed in the diner, she decides. It’s confusing, especially in the middle of the night.

He hands her the check along with the cash to pay it without a word, and she sets about getting him his change out of the diner’s ancient cash register. She hands over the bills and a few coins and thanks him for coming in.

“You have a good night,” she adds, sounding folksier than she means to. “Or morning. Whatever it is.”

He smiles at that. “Thanks, you too.”

“I will, thanks.”

He’s already turning to go when he adds, casually over his shoulder. “See you around, Jyn.”

By the time she’s remembered that she introduced herself when he first came in and recovered from her surprise at hearing her name come out of his mouth, he’s already gone. Apropos of nothing, there’s some buzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she kind of wishes would go away, but it’s also the most exciting thing that’s happened to her all night, tragically. The cook ringing the bell to tell her that she’s got orders up is the only thing that startles her out of her reverie.

She brings the food over to her table of college students, and then goes over to clean off the cute guy’s table. As she’s moving plates around, she notices he left a tip in the form of cash tucked under his water glass. It’s a little over twenty percent, which, given the night she’s had, basically makes this guy the love of her life. She’s pleased enough that she almost forgets to be disappointed he paid in cash, rather than with a card, making it impossible to learn his name. Almost.

#rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #jyncassian #rebelcaptain fanfic #firstelevens #taylor swift song prompts #ask #homelywenchsociety #that's my writing tag! don't worry about it!#this has literally been in my ao3 drafts for a month just get it out of my sight pls #i wrote a really weird emotional author's note on ao3 life is so weird #anyway here's wonderwall

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ala-baguette · 1 year ago

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If Harry couldn’t be an Auror for whatever reason, what Job do you think he be happy doing instead?

I’ve been mulling over this Ask for some time, trying to come up with an appropriate answer. But I just… can’t. Harry’s an Auror.

(Very minor KWTL spoilers in that to know my opinion on this is to know where I'm going with the story, but I think we're mostly past that anyway)

I know the fandom has assigned him several other alternative careers—most commonly, I think I have heard Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and professional Quidditch player. I see their merits, but… that’s just not my Harry. I would love him to be in a nice, safe profession like a professor. And yes—I think the DA proved that he would be great at it. But honestly, Harry started the DA to stick it to people like Umbridge and Fudge. Not because he found teaching fulfilling in its own right. It was his way of fighting back while he was feeling his most powerless. After Umbridge was gone, Harry showed no interest in continuing the DA. Neville and Luna even asked him to at the start of HBP, and he still just brushed them off saying there was “no point.” Maybe he would have come by for the occasional guest lecture gig, but I don’t see him happy sitting behind a desk, grading papers, docking house points, planning lessons, writing exams… The boy’s just not that patient. It doesn’t feel like his calling. As for becoming Quidditch star, we all know my boy’s got the skills, and we know he feels passion for Quidditch and for flying. But in a post-war world, I think that level of fame would be off-putting. Throughout his youth, Harry has moments where he seems to enjoy being the centre of attention when he feels it is for something he deserves (Quidditch matches, Triwizard Tournament wins), but I do feel stepping into the Quidditch world post-war is a different level. This is willingly accepting more fame that there’s no turning off or stepping away from. And while Harry would never consider Quidditch frivolous, I do think he wants his career to mean something more. While preparing for their career advice in OotP, Hermione scoffs that she doesn’t want to be an Auror because she doesn’t see it as adequately “worthwhile.” Her scope is big. She wants to change the world in a more systematic way. But to Harry, I think being an Auror is “worthwhile.” To him, saving that one person is worthwhile. Offering justice to someone who was wronged is worthwhile. He's not looking to fix all the problems in the world and prevent future ones like Hermione wants to. He wants to help people directly. Being an Auror to Harry is about being able to stand up for the little guy. It’s about being able to protect people from going through the things he’s been through. It’s about having the opportunity to solve puzzles and track clues and satiate his curiosity. And let’s be honest, it’s about getting that nice little kick of adrenaline. Honestly, there’s nothing more “Harry” than all that. I do understand why so many people dislike the idea of Harry becoming an Auror so much. I get it. I do. I understand the reluctance to unite him to the Ministry after all they did to wrong him. But, at least in my headcanon, this is Kingsley’s Ministry, not Fudge’s or Scrimgeour’s. While it may have taken a while for Kingsley to prove it to Harry, I have to believe things changed post-war. And of course, I understand the feeling that Harry went through so much, he deserves to be able to step away from all that pain and fighting and death. Of course, I want that for him too. But… Does Harry deserve the quiet life? Yes, undoubtedly! Does Harry want the quiet life? Possibly. Sometimes. Does Harry do what’s good for him? Never. So I’m sorry, kind Anon. I suppose all of this is me telling you I can’t answer your Ask. Harry is an Auror. He was an Auror in my head before JKR even came out and said he was an Auror, and I’m terribly stuck in my headcanons. (Though, regarding him going on to become Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to hell with that, Cursed Child!)

#harry potter headcanon #post war #Harry is an auror #no convincing me otherwise

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yuzu-all-the-way · 2 years ago

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Do you think we'll ever know why Yuzu was consistently underscored in the last few years of competing? Like, I can't fathom why they would do that - he's so well loved, so surely scoring him accurately would just draw more people toward the sport to see him? Honestly I believe that if he hadn't attempted the 4A at the Olympics that he could have won if he was scored fairly. Having a 3x Olympic Gold medalist would have made such a buzz in the news which would be good publicity, no? So... idk. I'm confused by the whole thing and my heart goes out to Yuzu for putting up with so much for so long.

Hi, anon! Oh, this is such a long story. I'll try to keep it as short as possible and make it comprehensible.

Officially, there most likely will never be an explanation given, it's just not how the sports' world works. There is no accountability since the "behind the scenes" is mostly a power play between several figure skating federations (USA, Russia, JSF - but that's a whole other story), lots of politicking going on.

However, the fans and those who know figure skating have become aware of Yuzu being underscored over the years. There were a hell lot of discussions about that too, but they literally led nowhere - there were a lot of fights and Fanyus accused of being irrational and delusional.

The narrative goes something like this:

Yuzu came into the senior competitions as a very successful junior and he actively improved his technical as well as his presentation components - he was constantly on the rise winning a world medal in his 2nd year as senior, winning everything there was to win in the 2013-2014 season - GPF, Worlds, OLYMPIC GOLD, except 4CC (I don't think he participated in 2014), achieving incredible scores at 2015 NHK Trophy and 2015 Barcelona, winning a second world title in 2017, winning a second OLYMPIC GOLD in 2018... and finally winning 4CC in 2020.

There is a huge discrepancy in scores that occurred after 2015 GPF. Yuzu was constantly improving, yet his scores don't reflect that at all - they look like he remained through his entire amateur career at the same level as he was in 2015 or that he became worse - which is a blatant lie.

Frankly, when he broke consecutive records in 2015, ISU and the feds became aware that he was untouchable. There were skaters younger than Yuzu who were bringing quads to the game, skaters like Jin Boyang, Shoma Uno and Nathan Chen. But their skating skills could NEVER get close to Yuzu's, and Yuzu was also bringing new jumps into his arsenal - 4Lo, 4Lz. USA having lots of power, started pushing Chen as the quad king and Chen was supposed to be Yuzu's rival, narrative woven like this until Yuzu turned pro.

Anyway, Chen's scores were rising although there was barely any visible improving seen in his skating, while Yuzu, obviously constantly improving, if he had the smallest mistake he was penalized. The penalizations became greater when the scoring system changed from +/-3 GOE to +/-5 GOE because there could be greater manipulation of scores.

If Yuzu was getting +3 GOE for a 3A prior to 2018/2019, he was supposed to get +5 GOE for the same jump starting with 2018/2019, but that barely happened. The average GOE for Yuzu's 3A on the international stage stayed around +3. So, on paper, Yuzu seemed to be getting worse. Not to mention the PCS... which Yuzu openly talked about after turning pro, he was no longer awarded almost perfect PCS although he kept improving.

About Beijing 2022, Yuzu was never meant to win the gold as set by the ISU. Had he went clean, his Rondo probably would've been around the same as his last WR (lower than 112 points) because of literal judging corruption, and Chen would've still had impossible inflation and set a WR.

I won't go deeper into Beijing, it was Yuzu's choice to continue skating while remaining true to himself, it was his choice to challenge the 4A, it was his choice to do everything as it went. And I respect that because there's nothing more worthy of admiration than a person who remains true to himself while undergoing abuse (because, in the end, that's what it was). He came out on the other side stronger and better than any other skater and his pro career already shows it.

ISU seems to not care that figure skating is dying, they are not doing anything to improve the circumstances in which this sport is "developing". They lowered the PC components from 5 to 3, they want to let Russia back in the game, they push quads in juniors, they continue white-washing the whole sport (look at the countries of the skaters who were given the ISU awards).

In a nutshell, Yuzu's competitive career was hell, he had numerous injuries that threated his skating life, he continued, he was getting underscored, he continued. He did try to play ISU's "jumping competition" game for a while - Aoi Honoo III reveals that - with Origin. He didn't like that and his scores didn't improve even while playing by ISU's rules. He went back to the programs that won him 2015 NHK, 2015 GPF and 2018 Olympics gold... he was awarded just a tiny bit more than his previous SP world record. So, he continued skating in the hopes of landing that 4A. He challenged it until the end of his amateur career. He showed the best he could at Beijing... but it's over and done with now. Now he continues challenging that jump, but for himself, because it's his DREAM.

Now, we focus on Yuzu's pro career - he continues changing what figure skating means. If Prologue wasn't enough to show that he is so much BETTER than when he competed, GIFT and NS will definitely cement that in. Yuzu continues pursuing his ideal figure skating, hard tech content, beautiful skating skills, all possible because of hard work and training.

FORGOT TO SAY:

ISU did use Yuzu, they used him until July 19th 2022. While we were anxiously waiting for the 2022-2023 GP assignments, ISU put the tickets on sale for all the GP stages minus GPF. There were people who went in blindly to buy tickets because Yuzu's photo was on several ticket sites (for example, the Finland GP had Yuzu on their site). People were going to buy GPF tickets, too without any concrete assignments.

Yuzu announced him turning pro in July, the Yuzu fans who had bought tickets to see Yuzu found a way to sell them or ended up not going to the GPs. ISU knew Yuzu brought in the crowds, they knew he was the favourite. They did not promote his skating, they promoted him PARTICIPATING in competitions.

#asks #yuzuru hanyu #figure skating

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wizardnuke · 11 months ago

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im talking about the essay grade again and i got off topic and started talking about the lit analysis potential inthe vast majority of fanfictionbjust. Ignore

i feel like it's such a humblebrag for me to be like "i don't understand how i continually get really good grades in english" because i understand objectively that 1) i am very good at analysis and/or. finding quotes to support whatever the fuck thesis i decided would be easy to support (see: "good at analysis") (i think i honestly just randomly hit the jackpot on "good thesis" but on god i just looked at macbeth and gawain respectively and was like Ah. Women's Wrongs. Easy Peasy) and 2) i know from looking at other people's essays that i am just kind of. marginally-to-a-lot better at grammar and phrasing/understand the very specific madlibs-style layout i have to use and what vocabulary that i need to be putting out. it's madlibs. there's a really technical and specific layout that needs to be followed and i just kind of follow it. it's not hard. it is boring. if i could write academic papers on the shit i'm actually interested in they'd be worthless because it's niche and/or wild tumblr user conjecture. anyone who seriously writes on. hold on i need to generate a thesis. "the cyclic nature of abuse and its direct correlation to homoeroticism in cn's supernatural" could u fucking imagine. that's hilarious. that's some hackjob shit no matter how well i could keep a straight face on the matter because all that people care about is Old Shit. i have no real vested interest in actual literary works beyond "they're important and better than people think". i have extremely strong feelings on a lot of modern works, generally movies and shows and niche dnd webshows, i cannot make a career in that shit, my english prof thinks fanfic is bullshit and i see where he's coming from! i don't think it's bullshit. but. the academic perspective on fanfiction is like "they're not making original work" because the setting/adjacent themes and characters r lifted from another work and there's no real originality in it except that the best fics i've read are like.. an alternate form of literary analysis that is so far from actual essay writing that it's unrecognizable. but people can see the themes and the motifs and rehash them in a way that is absolutely a kind of analysis of the original work, but with flourishes and new ideas and batshit choices that the og media either couldn't make/didn't feel like making/tentacle sex wasn't really thematically fitting but an author decided "hey what if i put themes into this consentacles fic" and like, i want to argue that that's legit. sometimes. but i am not going to do that bc i sound objectively insane and also sometimes it is just not that deep and that will be brought up as an argument and i just don't care enough to explain that it's still an art form even if it's not that deep. is "fun and funky fresh" not a common motivator. if "new interpretations" of works like shakespeare and shit where they plunk the characters into a modern setting and fuck with the phrasing is seen as a viable art form/type of analysis then fanfic is an art form/analysis adjacent to that. not all of it though. some of it is something else that is worse. not that i think that is in itself bad. fanfic is a hobby. can't make a career out of that. but people have made careers out of that by changing the names and setting and publishing books. and that's viable apparently. i just personally am insane and enjoy writing very serious and/or emotionally driven meta on dnd shows. i like themes and motifs and i think that while a quickly written meta post on the tragedy inherent in redemption arcs that hit 50k is absolutely not as academically sound as a cited paper on a similar subject, there's Something To It and there's got to be some kind of potential in it. i like stories. idk if i could make a living out of talking about stories especially from the insane angle that i tend to hit stories at. the possibility of making it a genuine career is driven down below ground after i take into consideration my insanity about modern stories vs my neutrality on older ones. what am i talking abt. bf is yelling for me bye

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70sshow-girly · 2 years ago

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Chapter One: Jackie Hart’s Beginning

'Hyde's heart felt a twinge of pain listening to the lyrics, how many times had he wished for someone to feel the pain they had caused? She tapped into the very parts of Hyde he thought were long gone, he hated it, he loved it. He hated how he loved it. The tobacco wasn't working to calm his nerves. The whiskey would only make him more upset, a reefer cigar it was. Hyde reached into his jacket pocket, before his hand met the metal case with the green goddess inside a different kind of goddess grabbed his attention.

The blue bird on stage made direct eye contact as she began her last verses, The band's music swelling with her melody captivating. Hyde was completely frozen.....'

Jackie Burkhart, a young girl in 1930, finds her self tangled up in Steven Hyde's gang while trying to kick start her jazz career. She stumbles into the middle of a passionate romance that's doomed to fail unless something or someone changes. Things get even more complicated when Jackie's best friend, Donna the reporter, uncovers a mystery that puts her life in danger.

Get ready for the teeth rotting romance, a scandalous mystery and the heist of a lifetime!!

Art: @byrd-bb

AO3 Link

Jackie checked the pink rouge on her cheeks, using her fingers to tap the edges of the unblended rosy shade into her skin. Her eyes flickered over to a few flyaway hairs, however before she got the chance to pat the loose hairs down Donna’s voice caught her attention.

“Are you going to stare at your reflection all night or will you finally tell me where the hell we are going?” The redhead’s snarky comment would have bothered her more on any other night, but Jackie knew tonight that her friend was more than a little nervous.

And she was right to be anxious, Jackie had moved further away from the bright main road into a cramped shadow filled alleyways. The cold of the wind carrying small snow flurries nipped at their legs to keep moving and to quickly find warmth.

“Sorry, I’m a true lady and you wouldn’t understand the complexities of needing to look one’s best all the time,” Jackie glared for effect. “It’s right around the corner, don't be such a wet blanket.”

Jackie closed her compact mirror and linked her arm around Donna’s elbow leading her down the street to a discreet looking door. From an outside perspective the mahogany door looks like a normal townhouse door in a stretch of other houses. The golden door knocker was intimidating the first time Jackie found herself here. This time she was more focused on finding the small club card in her purse.

Unlike her unsuccessful first time trying to enter this establishment, she actually had the right credentials to get it tonight. A speakeasy, an illicit liquor serving nightclub, where anyone can buy the outlawed sinful spirits. Or perhaps take part in shadier endeavors that Jackie would prefer to think don't happen at this particular club. In fact she had heard the opposite, this should be one of the better 'cleaner' venues. Whatever that meant.

A red paper card with gold embossed lettering across the front, she found the card tucked between her lipstick and other similar cards.

The Sesh

Membership card

1930-32

Jackie knocked hard twice and slid the card into a small slot. It took a few seconds for any response and the pair exchanged a nervous glance. Much to their shared relief the door swung open and they were ushered inside. Jackie was handed back the card by a tall gentleman smoking a cigar, Jackie wiggled her nose, muttered a thank you and led Donna down the stairs to the bar.

“I hate the smell of tobacco!” Jackie cried to her friend, pinching her nose. “I honestly can't think of anything more unattractive than clouds of smoke surrounding a man.”

“Are you forgetting murder exists?” Donna's sarcastic tone could only last for so long, as her excitement for a cold drink out weighed her friends' poor priorities. "Holy shit Jackie, how did you get us in here? And more importantly, what are you doing bringing me here? On any other day our roles here would be reversed." Donna paused waiting for a response, but Jackie instead walked close to the bar nodding along, agreeing.

The brunette finally caught the attention of the bartender. "An Old Fashioned and a French 75 if you have the means. Thank you."

"Jackie, what the hell is going on?" Donna became more serious, "Are you okay?"

Jackie waited till she had a bitter taste of alcohol on her lips before she answered. "Where to begin Donna," her voice shook before she regained some amount of strength from another swing of her champagne concoction. "Father's company went bankrupt, he fled the country, my mother is nowhere to be found, and I'm officially cut off. I have less than two hundred to my name and the armful clothes I was able to take before collections came."

The shocking words hung in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. Donna couldn't find the words to comfort her closest companion and it broke her heart. What could she say when someone's whole world had fallen apart. Jackie was a high society rich girl with a silver spoon ingrained in her very being, it's everything Jackie's ever known. The only reason their paths had crossed was their shared rebellious spirit and lady luck pulling fate's strings. In truth they had been a very unlikely friendship from the start. Donna began to wrap her head around her friend's unfortunate circumstances half way through her drink. She knew one thing, Jackie wasn't going to lay down and give up.

"What are you going to do? Are we here to drink away your sorrows?" Donna's worries creeped into her voice. "Is that really what we're doing here?"

She scoffed, offended by Donna's lack of faith. "Of course not! I have a plan. In fact," She paused to scan the crowd. "I have a very good plan!" Donna reached out and placed her hand on top of Jackie's, giving it a tight reassuring squeeze. Encouraging her to keep speaking. Jackie hadn't realized how tense and emotional her voice had sounded. After clearing her throat she continued. "What I've always wanted to do, the one thing father would never let me truly pursue-"

"You're going to sing?! Here?" Donna's voice cracked. "Jackie, don't be an idiot, they are going to eat you alive." She tightened her grip.

"I might as well put all those singing lessons daddy paid for to use. A jazz singer is the only kind that makes money nowadays and the types of gigs I used to sing for probably won't be offered to me anymore." Jackie sighed.

Most of her performances were at charity balls and events usually held by her father's colleagues. They wanted nothing to do with her now poor and tarnished name. She already tried and failed that route.

"If I get on an album with a big band my name is sure to go far enough to keep me afloat. Donna, don't look at me like that, I've actually looked into this place. Multiple people have been scouted here! It's practically my last resort."

"How do you plan on getting on stage tonight?"

"That would be insane Donna, I've got a description of the stage manager. I'll use any and all of my feminine charm to get my way."

"And that's what I'm worried about." She retorted. "You're going to get yourself taken advantage of here."

"Do you really think I'd get that low? I was going to bribe him with this." Jackie looked around carefully making sure they had no one else participating in their conversation. Even if this was a more ritzy club it didn't mean the patrons were trustworthy. She opened her purse and let Donna take a look at the sparkling diamond that was no mistake for her mother's wedding ring. "She obviously has no use for it. I've already thought about pawning it but the debtors were looking for it. I thought this would be a good way to get it out of my hands while still benefiting."

"You're right," Donna huffed. "This is a pretty good plan. Please don't approach this slimeball without me."

"Why else would I bring my dazzling red lumberjack?" Jackie's sass twinkled in her mismatched eyes, she felt confident after her smartest friend saw value in her plan.

"Oh shut up, just promise me." Donna said, fighting a smile.

"I promise, I promise." Jackie said, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, I will need another drink to give me the perfect amount of confidence." She glanced over her shoulder looking for the bartender.

"I'd have to agree with that sentiment." Donna raised her glass capturing his attention. "Two more sir."

"These are paid for by those two gentlemen." The bartender pointed over to a booth in the far right. It was surrounded by thick cigarette smoke and casted in harsh golden light, Jackie wiggled her nose in disgust, but her reaction was tame in comparison to Donna's. Her companion had true rage twist into her face.

"That mother-fucker." Donna sneered.

"Um, who?"

"You telling me you don't recognize that sleazeball? Maggot of a man?" Her words became more sharp and spiteful with each breath.

"Am I supposed to?" Jackie asked earnestly.

"He's only one of the most corrupt lobbyists in all of Chicago City, he was one of the big fellas to push for prohibition. And look at where he's at and what he's doing! The Daily Hemp has been trying to interview him for months now." Donna took a second to chug the rest of her drink. "I'm going to confront that dumbass. Strong arm him into doing an interview." Donna had the fury of a thousand suns burning in her eyes. "At least give him a piece of my mind."

Jackie snorted and quickly covered her face out of embarrassment, but she couldn't stop smiling. "Donna, I don't think I could stop you if I wanted to, please I will be happy to see this unfold from afar!"

Donna shot her a winning smile. "Don't let any creeps talk to you, okay? I'll be right back."

Jackie nodded and watched the confident walk of Donna when she was on her way to rip someone a new asshole. She happily watched as the gentleman's face went from pale white to a deep hot red, he couldn't finish a sentence before Donna retorted to fire back. The conversation went for minutes, to half an hour, to a quarter and a half. Jackie was getting impatient and antsy, as she had already rejected her third drugstore cowboy and was running out of excuses and stamina. Perhaps she would take a walk to the ladies washroom, take the chance to get a closer look at the stage and musicians.

This speakeasy was larger than others, it had enough room to move from the bar to a table comfortably and much to Jackie's delight there was enough room to fit a decently sized stage. It seemed to fit the rather large band that was currently performing quite well, she took a second to count the members, in all she counted eleven in the full band. Jackie could easily picture herself in front of the band taking in the sunny glow of the stage lights. Even if currently it was a fantasy, she had to do everything in her power to make it a reality.

As she dodged and maneuvered her way through dancers and tables she kept an eye out for the round gentleman in the dusty Sunday suit with the navy bowler hat. She was told 'you should know when you see him.' There wasn't much to go on, but enough to narrow down the crowd enough for her. Presumably he would also hang around and on the stage at some point, with a careful eye she should be able to distinguish them from the crowd.

However 'dusty' was a confusing clue, as for color it could mean a number of shades. Confusing but not impossible, Jackie came to the edge of the dance floor where couples and flappers were enjoying the lively jazz band. She scanned the perimeter slowly starting with the far sides of the stage she could see, the large velvet curtains blocked everything they didn't want you to see.

The loud noise of talking took over the room as the band finished their final song and began changing out for the next act. Perfect, this was an opportune moment to spot the man. As he had to be in charge of letting the acts know when to go on, at least that was what Jackie would hope.

Every man in this god forsaken bar had at least one or two qualities of this manager, approaching one and being wrong would be more mortifying than Jackie would like to live through. Her hopes were wearing thin and she thought of retreating and finding Donna, but one gentleman caught her attention.

A burly man with a navy hat and a cigar protruding from his lips that looked like it hadn't moved or seen an ashtray in at least ten minutes, as the entire left front of his suit was covered in ash.

"Dusty!" Jackie smirked. "Found you!" She muttered under her breath and confidentiality approached the man, knowing it wasn't a smart move to do without Donna, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins made it seem like the perfect moment.

She caught his attention on her way over, causing the man to take the cigar from his lips with his left hand and with his right he brushed some ash off his gray suit. Jackie always had the effect of making people straighten up when they speak to her, she commanded respect with her saunter and earned more with her sharp tongue.

"Excuse me sir," Jackie raised her dainty hand out to him with a flutter of her eyelashes. "Are you the stage manager of this fine establishment?" With the correct amount of lightness in the voice this leading question seems perfectly innocent.

He took her hand with his own sweaty limb bringing it up to his equally moist lips. "Why yes I am. Who do I have the honor of speaking to, you lovely doll?"

"Jackie Burkhart. You may have heard of me. I'm beginning my singing career and have been touring around local establishments." A lie, but he didn't know that. "I would like to discuss the possibility of combining my talent with your wonderful stage. I promise you I'm a very talented performer while being incredibly humble."

The man dropped her hand with a look she couldn't read very well, he placed his burnt out cigar back into his mouth, lit a match and inhaled the flame into the cigar. "Listen dollface," he blew a cloud of smoke directly into the small girl's face. "Even if I wanted to put you on stage, I couldn't. I don't handle talent. The owner does."

Jackie scrunched her nose in disgust and crossed her arms. "Who the hell is the boss? And a stage manager who doesn't handle the talent himself sounds like a dumbass with too much time. You can at least talk to him for me, can't you?" She tried to hide the desperation in her voice.

"Sure I could talk to him. What are you offering me sweetheart?" He completely saw through her. She was completely in his palm. Fuck. She's a dumbass. She should have never come over here without Donna. Luckily this is exactly what the ring was for, needing leverage. She could tell it wasn't the offer he wanted, and a shiver shot down her spin.

"Is this enough?" She held up the ring on her pointer finger. "Should buy you enough fancy cigars to blow smoke into people's faces for years!"

He eyed the ring and then her face but he didn't move an inch closer. Was he not at all interested in the ring? Jackie felt her stomach drop, no way, that couldn't be it. She couldn't doubt herself now, she stood firm and kept eye contact.

"Eh, this is fishy." He took enough puff. "What are you, a runaway bride? Why wouldn't you pawn it and offer me the money instead….unless," A smile Jackie did not like one big crept onto his lips. "You aren't supposed to have this? Mhmm, am I getting hotter?"

Jackie was speechless, she really was a sap, what was she thinking. She lowered her hand and then her gaze, frozen in an overwhelming amount of emotion.

"There is one thing you could still offer me?"

Donna didn't realize how much time had passed until she reached the bar and saw Jackie was nowhere to be found. She was going to take a seat to wait for her brunette friend, but something intriguing reached her reporter trained ears. She turned and saw a group of gentlemen gathered together drinking bourbon, they had just praised Saint Fiacre, patron Saint of herbalism, Donna was more than curious. She had a deep gut feeling it meant something more.

The redhead knew she should stay and wait for Jackie. Going against her gut feeling, Donna’s feet were already moving towards the group of men, questions swirling in her head. She slightly adjusted her ivy drop waisted dress and touched the uncomfortable glitter headpiece Jackie insisted she wore. Donna was going to attempt to use her 'feminine charm' to get the answers she wanted.

Only two churches in all of Chicago City worshiped Saint Fiacre and if Donna's memory was correct (which it certainly was), both churches and the clergy had lobbied for prohibition.

Why would they be thanking that Church?

That was the question itching at Donna's Brain. Donna did have one clear answer she could think of.

Donna approached with a false air of confidence, with a shimmy of her hips their attention moved away from the brown liquid and to the redhead. Perfect. She smiled and introduced herself, getting all of the pleasantries out of the way.

A fun little loophole of the prohibition, churches and doctors were not only allowed to produce spirits but also distribute. Worshippers and the sick got to break the law, and any politician behind closed doors. However Donna didn't have enough information to truly pin the distribution of that bourbon to illegal speakeasies on them, not yet. A few questions and Donna could convince her paper to let her run a story and start an investigation.

Donna's suspicion was quickly and easily confirmed. It didn't take long for one of the younger gentlemen to boast about where they bootlegged the alcohol from, earning a disapproving look from one of the other men. Donna couldn't contain her smile, and it seemed one of them noticed her specific and delicate questioning method.

"Why are you so interested, Dollface?" The man paused, blowing smoke in her face. "You sound like a reporter."

Donna hoped she didn't look as shocked as she felt, her mind raced for a million answers and explanations but her mouth wouldn't produce words. Only a nervous giggle would come out every time she opened her mouth. Suddenly she heard a voice behind her.

"Pipe down Stanford, she's with me."

Donna tilted her head up to see a man with sandy brown hair and a friendly smile.

Eric could see the relief rush over the redhead's face. He placed a hand on her back and gently took her arm and led her to a different table.

"I'm Eric Forman, I should give you an actual introduction," He said, taking a seat next to her. "And you are?"

Donna felt the anxiety rush to her stomach. Eric Forman the shyster of the Mob. He was a corrupt attorney. Donna's savior now looked less appealing than the angry crowd she was with. She mustered all of her courage and stood.

"I'm leaving, that's what I am." She said with a huff.

The man quickly gripped her arm and held her firmly at the table. "Look toots, I don't know what you are trying to do. But you've been poking your nose in dangerous activities. Those men haven't stopped watching you yet, sit here with me." There was a desperation in his voice that tugged at Donna's heart. "Just until I know you'll be safe."

With a grumble and a sigh Donna sat down. "Fine," She turned her attention to the stage. "Let me know as soon as I'm fine and then I'm leaving."

Jackie filled with rage, she saw red and she began berating and insulting the overgrown child in front of her with everything she could think of. How dare he. She was Jackie Burkhart, not your average corner whore!

Her face burned and even began to feel the pricking of tears in her eyes, but she wouldn't dare cry in front of this pathetic man.

"James, why is this bird ripping you apart for my enjoyment?" A new voice broke Jackie's current insult from her lips. She whipped around to glare a hole into this stranger's face. Instead of meeting a pair of eyes she was met with dark shades and an amusement smirk.

The gentleman had unruly chestnut curls fighting his slicked back hairstyle and the beginnings of a mustache that in the opinion of Jackie thought he could do without. His suit was expensive, fine fabric and intricate details. A dark ebony complimented the mauve red of his undershirt and tie. Whoever this man was, he was more established and well off than this indecent ‘James’ character.

"Eh, Well she says wants to perform here Mr. Hyde." James said, lighting another cigar.

The man named Hyde waved his hand dismissing James from the conversation, to Jackie's surprise he immediately left without another word. "Well little bunny, what makes you wanna sing at this seedy club?"

"This seedy club just so happens to be the heart of jazz vocalists in the current age! Three different acts have been scouted here this year alone, if I perform here it nearly guarantees me stardom." Jackie said, placing a hand on her hip.

"You seem confident that you can reach stardom. Are you really that talented?" Hyde crossed his arms.

"Talented?" Jackie asked, exacerbated. "I'm blessed with the voice of an Angel, if I sing here the owner will be jumping with joy with how much business I'll bring it." Jackie raised a hand to her face with a confident smile.

Hyde's smirk grew as he fought back a laugh, who was this chick? "Really, jumping with joy?" He looked over to the band that was setting up and came to a conclusion. "The last act of the night was pulled out at the last minute, do you think you could handle putting on an unexpected performance successfully?"

Jackie blinked, she was completely and wholeheartedly unprepared; She didn't even have a band with her tonight. Only an idiot would say yes, only an idiot would think she had enough chops to care for an entire impromptu show. "And when was this closing act going to perform?" Jackie asked apprehensively.

Hyde reached into his suit jacket pulling out a cigarette book and matchbook. "Half an hour."

"Wouldn’t you need to get me approved by the owner?"

Hyde tilted his head, surely she had known who he was, but based on her response and cold demeanor towards him; She didn't know his importance to the club or area. "Yeah, approved by the boss."

"Well, how long do you think that would take? I can't wait for that idiot, I'd like to talk to some band members."

"Mhm, I don't think it'll take long." Hyde said smugly. "In fact I'll go talk to him right now, you go to find someone willing to get on that stage without pay." Hyde gestured backstage for Jackie to go look for band members. "I'll have James find you."

"You'd better do a good job of convincing, if I don't get on stage tonight I'll never let you hear the end of it." Jackie snapped.

"For some reason, that's the most believable thing you've said so far." Hyde cracked a smile and waved his little bird away. He watched as the little brunette dipped behind the curtain and disappeared. What an interesting turn of events, thought Hyde as he returned to his table of goons. The first thing he noticed was Forman's attractive company, a redhead in a complimentary green dress.

"Where were you at?" Eric asked. "We thought you went off to do the deal by yourself."

"Handling some of the music acts." Hyde took a seat across from the couple, as he did he waved James over. "I think tonight's closing act will be interesting. I met with a sharp tongued chick who demanded to take the stage here."

James approached leaving a trail of ash behind him. "Mr. Hyde, what can I do for you?"

"Find that loud girl and make sure she's on stage before the end of the night."

"You got it boss."

The rest of Hyde's night was filled with excited anticipation, whether or not she really had the voice of an angel rattled inside of his head over and over. Usually women like this strong willed babe annoyed the crap out of Hyde, the world was too dirty for such trivial matters of stardom. Yet he was still very charmed by her and her potential success tonight. The night dragged on, and Eric and redhead Donna's constant bickering didn't make it any more bearable.

Finally the second to last band began clearing the stage, making room for the next act to set up. Surprisingly the little bird did end up getting a band, Hyde even recognized two players from his own crew.

"Is that Kelso and Fez?" Eric snorted. "I guess that's where they disappeared too. I didn't know they were performing tonight. Why aren't you up there with them Hyde?"

"You know I quit Foreman." Hyde flicked his eyes back to the stage. He was impressed she got nearly a full band in less than half an hour. She even provided them with sheet music, Hyde noted seeing Fez's white shirt had smeared indigo ink going up his left sleeve.

Time slowed for Hyde as Jackie walked across the stage, the baby blue dress she wore glowed in the dim yellow lights of the stage. With her dark hair and bright red lips she reminded him of the princesses described in storybooks. He wasn't the only gentleman who took notice of her, it was obvious now she was beautiful and everyone including herself knew it. Jackie approached the microphone and gave it a tap creating an awful high pitched noise that grabbed the attention of everyone in the club, she played like she was embarrassed but Hyde could see the intelligent move it was. It was a deliberate choice, so all eyes were on her. Smiling he leaned back in his chair and lit up another cigar, this would be an entertaining performance.

"Holy shit, Jackie did it?" The redhead sitting next to Forman exclaimed. “Attagirl!”

"You know her?" Hyde raised an eyebrow curious.

"She's my best friend, I lost track of her a while ago because I'm a reporter and saw something interesting. I shouldn't be surprised she got on stage, that's Jackie Burkhart for you." Donna laughed. Hyde narrowed his eyes behind his dark shades, he'd better not stay close to this reporter redhead.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen, I'm Jackie Hart here to sing for your pleasure. I will be singing a little ditty called Low Down Man, and tonight I'm joined by — The Reefer boat boys." She couldn't help but cringe at the idiotic name, but a free band was a free band. They'd better play well or she could find a way to make the rest of their lives miserable, just as miserable as her life would be if this didn't work.

Fez on piano started with a discord of notes before beginning a sad melody. Jackie took a breath before her cue and opened her mouth to sing. What came out was a hauntingly beautiful sound, Hyde was a little more than shocked. She had complete control over her voice, her tone and breath control keyed Hyde in that she was probably classical trained. Jackie had an airy light voice, girlish and innocent sounding. She really did earn the title of a bird, thought Hyde.

"That low down man of mine

Mistreats me all the time

He says he loves me only

Then turns around and leaves me sad and lonely."

The emotion behind her voice made Hyde uncomfortable, everyone else was eating up the act, it felt real and true coming from her painted lips. He couldn't help but feel drawn in about the aching broken heart she was suffering from. He watched with a close eye, her playing into the crowd, she had everyone in the palm of her hand.

Jackie had originally sung this song with the betrayal and broken heart of a lover. With how her life currently is, the song's meaning transformed in her recent one bedroom roach infested apartment. With no one to rely on but herself, this song was about her failure of a father. Jackie has always been a daddy's girl, he had always doted on her. Her story didn't have a happy ending, when things got bad, he left, he abandoned his family and they had to deal with his failures. The hurt and pain in her heart threatened to break to the surface; however ruining this performance would be a hurt worse, perhaps it was because it would be rubbing salt into her open wound.

"That low down man with his low down ways

I know he'll go some day

It won't be long

But from now on

If he could see through my eyes

And be the one who cries

He would see

He would never be

That low down man of mine."

Hyde's heart felt a twinge of pain listening to the lyrics, how many times had he wished for someone to feel the pain they had caused? She tapped into the very parts of Hyde he thought were long gone, he hated it, he loved it. He hated how he loved it. The tobacco wasn't working to calm his nerves. The whiskey would only make him more upset, a reefer cigar it was. Hyde reached into his jacket pocket, before his hand met the metal case with the green goddess inside a different kind of goddess grabbed his attention.

The blue bird on stage made direct eye contact as she began her last verses, The band's music swelling with her melody captivating. Hyde was completely frozen, fixated on her he completely forgot about smoking and set his hands in his lap, pressed his lips into a thin line not wanting a hint of emotion to escape. He was a low down man, not hers, but Hyde wasn't a good person for many moral definitions. Looking up at this angel was only a reminder of how awful he truly was.

"If he could see through my eyes

And be the one who cries

He would see

He'd come back to me

That low down man."

With the haunting song coming to an end Hyde stood and headed to the back to finish business. The crowd did enjoy her performance as their applause didn't die down until everyone was packed up. Hyde did think she had talent but a reporter best friend was just asking for trouble.

Better to keep her far away from me.

Jackie found Donna quickly and immediately took a seat next to her companion. Donna swayed in her seat, obviously drunk.

“Jackie! You sang!”

Jackie laughed and shook her head. “Yes I did, what did you think?”

“It was amazing! Ho -hic- how did you get up there?” Donna snuggled up to Jackie’s arm.

“I’m very convincing. I should probably get you home…” Jackie sighed and looked around. She wanted to find the stage manager or Hyde before she left, however, it would be best to get her pretty drunk friend home. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to the washroom.”

“I’m going to put my head down…” Donna said.

Jackie took notice of the other man at their table; he was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. “She better be right here when I get back, I can and will kick your ass!”

“Please! I’m not going to do that. I actually helped her earlier.” Eric pleaded, waving his hands nervously. “I’m a lawyer, A good guy!”

“Liar!” Donna shouted with her head buried in her arms.

Jackie paused, eyeing the man. “I’ll be right back.” She whispered to the redhead.

Jackie shimmed through the crowd making her way to the back presumably where ‘the john’ was. In the back was a tall wooden door that opened into a small strangely vacant hallway, Jackie thought it would’ve been busier on a night like this. Out of all of the doors in the hallway none were labeled making Jackie’s quest more difficult than it needed to be.

“Applesauce!” She grumbled to herself.

Apprehensive, she checked the middle door and found a small broom closet, inside was toilet paper. Jackie; being the highly trained detective she knew she was capable of being. Deduced that, the bathroom had to be close by! Now it was either the door on the right or left. Women are always right, Jackie thought and opened the door with a confident swing.

The best case scenario was the women’s bathroom, the worst was a urinal and a creep. However Jackie didn't take into consideration the absolute worst never in a million years scenario. On the other side of the unassuming door was a familiar set of curls and dark shades staring back at her. It was the gentleman who she had earlier met, Hyde. He was holding a gun, luckily not pointing at her, but at a very frightened looking man holding a stack of cash. All while the two band members she had performed on stage with, Kelso he was the tall drummer, and ‘Fez’ the man with the accent who played the piano.

“Fuck Kelso, I told you to be the lookout!” Hyde slammed his hand on the desk in front of him. In his other hand the gun remained perfectly steady, still aimed at the poor fool sitting across from him.

Jackie jumped from his outburst. He looked and sounded furious. She took a slow step backwards. “Well, this isn’t the bathroom.” Her voice shook with fear.

“Oh that’s in the other hallway towards the front.” Kelso said politely.

“You dumbass!” Hyde tried to contain himself seeing that the little bird was about ready to take flight. “Dollface, let me explain. Fez take this.” Hyde set the gun on the table and stepped towards the terrified brunette.

Unfortunately for Hyde, the small girl had already dashed down the hallway and back into the crowd. Jackie had already made it back to her table happy to see Donna still there and looking slightly less drunk than before.

Jackie was maybe the happiest she’s ever been to see her red lumberjack. “Donna! Donna, let’s split? Please.”

“Whoa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?” Eric asked.

“I’ve seen nothing. Donna, get up c’mon!” Jackie pulled on her friend's arm while looking back over at the door she was running from. Hyde was there scanning the crowd, looking for her. She felt a pit in her stomach when he finally laid eyes on her. Jackie was frozen, all she could do was stare back. Hyde slowly reached towards his face and removed his glasses. Behind the dark lenses were piercing sky blue eyes and to Jackie, was an unreadable expression. She didn’t want to stick around to find out what it meant.

“Jackie I’m up, I’m up!” Donna said, wrapping an arm around the shorter woman. “Are you okay?” She asked, concerned.

“Don’t worry, everything is okay.” Jackie quickly pulled Donna up the stairs and to the street. The pair hailed a cab and settled inside. Everything was not okay, she had a sinking feeling that this was nowhere near over.

Authors note: Hey yall, tell me what you think!! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Song that's used in this chapter: Low Down Man by Squirrel Nut Zippers

#jackie burkhart #jackie x hyde #jackie/hyde #Steven Hyde #that 70s show #Jackie/Hyde Low Down Man #Jackie/Hyde Fanfic

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certified-boyliker · 2 years ago

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02. Candy Store

cw: bullying, assaulting

wc: 1.2k

It had been about three weeks after Isagi adopted you in your group, and your experience at school immediately improved. No one shoved you against the wall, Karasu and Otoya didn’t harass you anymore.

It was paradise.

Another thing you started hearing after joining them was the talk of parties. Specifically, one that was occurring at Karasu’s house in a few days.

“Hey, Isagi, I thought of something funny…”

“Ugh, what is it, Chigiri?”

You saw Chigiri pull an annoyed Isagi closer and whispered something into his ear. Isagi’s face slowly changed into a smile.

“Oh really?”

“Mhm!”

“Well then… hey, (Y/N).”

You turned to Isagi, cocking your head slightly. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering… we were thinking of playing a little prank on someone. By putting a letter in their locker, making them think that Karasu invited them to his party.”

As the paper was set in front of you and a pen was handed to you, couldn’t help but think for a moment that this was wrong. That it was wrong and that you shouldn’t forge that note. That it would hurt that someone’s feelings when they found out that the letter wasn’t genuine. That you would become the person that you condemned the most in your high school career. However, you felt the pen moving, and you forged Karasu’s handwriting almost perfectly.

“Oh, this is perfect!” Isagi picked up the letter. “Oh, Hiori is going to fall for this so easily.”

That name… Hiori! You quickly stood up and rushed after Isagi, grabbing the note from his hand, making him turn back and glare at you.

“Hey, what’s your damage?” He snatched the note back from your hand, and you reached to grab it, but he passed it off to Bachira.

“You can’t- Hiori’s feelings will be hurt!” You tried to grab it from Bachira, but he slipped it to Chigiri, who held it away from you whilst pushing you back.

“Uh, yeah.” Isagi crossed his arms. “That’s the fucking point. I hope his feelings will be hurt, so that he realizes that Karasu has never and will never like him.”

“No!” You tried to push past Chigiri, but when you did, he had passed the note back to Isagi and slipped it into a locker.

“Oops. Sorry, my hand slipped.”

Your hands slammed against the locker and you couldn’t help but sigh. You aided in a bullying. You aided in the bullying of your friend. You aided in the bullying of you best friend.

“Goddamn, what’s the fucking problem?!” Isagi grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away from the lockers.

You shoved his hands off of you when you were brought out of your stupor. “Listen- that was not cool! Hiori’s my friend, and-”

“And now you’re our friend! And to us, that quiet nerd is useless to you and to the school as a whole! He should honestly just get out of here.”

“You’re such a jackass!”

Isagi looked at you, and crossed his arms again with a chuckle. “I’m sorry… didn’t you come to us? Right now, are we really gonna have a problem? You’ve really made some friends, why, now, are you pulling on my dick?” He got closer to you. “You know, I’d normally cuss you out and denounce you in front of everyone. But… let’s just say I’m feeling nice right now. So let me give you some advice, bitch.”

Chigiri and Bachira chuckled behind him and Isagi turned to give them a look. You felt crowded, and like you were about to die.

“Listen… what we do is just fun. It’s fun and there’s nothing you can do to take that away. I like doing big, grown-up things, you know. But… you could stay doing little kid things with that tiny loser.”

You got pushed up against the wall by him and he glowered at you.

“Come on… I know you’re desperate to finally do something that excites you, right? So.. ditch Hiori, hang out with us, and you’ll finally be able to do exciting things.”

You looked down at the ground and thought for a moment. All of the things that Isagi said would be at the party did sound pretty fun… and you know Hiori would never be up for it if you asked him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

Isagi, Bachira, and Chigiri backed away from you, and saw Hiori running over to you. You saw the note clutched in his hand and his eyes were bright. You sucked in a breath, dreading what he was about to say next.

“Look! Karasu wrote me a note invitin’ me to his party! He’s been thinkin’ about me this entire time, I knew it!”

You should tell him, you really should. You should just say, “Hey, Hiori, they put that note in your locker! Let’s get out of here!” or “Hey, maybe we could just rent Ready Player One again and rewatch it on the night of the party!”. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bear to see his crestfallen face.

“Well… isn’t that exciting?”

You watched him walk away, muttering about what he should bring and what he should wear. An arm wrapped around your shoulders and upon turning around, you saw it was Chigiri.

“See, you-”

“Shut up, Chigiri!”

He was shoved off of you, and Isagi replaced him. You couldn’t help but think there was a bit of infighting when it came to this “friend” group.

“So… what do you say? Us… or him?”

You looked at your hands. Your hands that forged that note, the hands that lied to your friend, the hands that will hurt your friend. Your hands.

“Fine… yeah… I’ll… I’m still friends with you guys.”

“And you won’t tell him about the note?”

“As long as I live.”

Isagi smiled at you, and patted your shoulder. “Good.”

You gave him a fake smile as he walked away, and when he was gone, you slumped down and groaned to yourself.

“You shouldn’t just do everything they say, you know.”

You turned to whoever said that, and saw a boy standing beside you. He had black hair that covered part of his face, thought he wasn’t looking at you. Just standing beside you, holding some of his textbooks.

“Sorry?”

“You’re not an evil person. You need to keep your soul good. One of the few good souls in this world…” He mused to himself, turning to look at the ceiling. “We're all born marked for evil.” He began to walk away.

“Hey, don’t quote Baudelaire and then walk away.” You turned fully to look at him. “Hey, you didn’t give me your name.”

“Didn’t hand it to you.” He simply said, continuing to walk away.

Nearby, Karasu and Otoya were watching you two talking. Otoya snickered and bumped his shoulder with Karasu.

“Look at Mr. Emo-Kid.”

“Yeah, and he’s gettin’ (Y/N) with that lame delinquent act. Wanna go teach ‘im a lesson?”

“Always.”

They walked over to where the boy was walking to and Otoya smacked the textbooks out of his hands.

“Hey there, Mr. Emo Delinquent. Your boyfriend gonna pick those up for you.”

Karasu smacked the back of the boy’s head. “Don’t remember this school lettin’ in bitches like yerself.”

The boy knelt down and began picking up his textbooks. “They have an influx of jackasses, though…”

“The fuck did you say?!”

Karasu grabbed his arms and pulled him up, and Otoya was about to take a swing at him, but the boy quickly pulled away and grabbed his wrist, punching him instead. Instinctively, you backed away and watched a crowd forming around the boys as they fought each other.

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alittlebitofrainbyyourside · 10 months ago

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Syn and I were talking about how like- okay, I've probably talked about this before but like- ..... I largely view myself as an NPC? I know this is insane, it is life. you live with a brain like mine and try /not/ viewing yourself as an NPC.

anyway, I view myself largely as an NPC and Syn and I were talking about how this made me uniquely a pretty damn good fit for working retail. Sometimes I tell people that I had a good time working retail and they assume that like- oh, it was a matter of privilege working in a great place- I was a visible dyke in a trump loving place where people open carried guns. The owner had a trump flag in his office. I want you to say that to my face. One time, in early 2020, a customer came in while I was cleaning the shelves and started yelling about how we were all sheep for believing in covid and I blinked and went 'you see these shelves? I'm trying to do some spring cleaning before they walk out of here themselves.' the problem with any individual customer trying to ruin my mood is that like... I was an NPC. I genuinely operated on the assumption that if you were being a dick, there was nothing I could have done to change that. People yell at shop keepers and quest givers all the time. They're dicks. But that's not a *me* problem. Yell, get the fuck out. I'm not going to hold any baggage from that because it wasn't about me. I also happened to work at the kind of place that customers absolutely expected and knew there was a gun under the counter- so like... I'm sure that did keep a certain kind of riff raff under wraps. it was old timey enough of a store that like- you had to manually do a lot of the items? you just had to know the prices of almost everything. Very few things scanned in and out- like cigarettes. Cigarettes scanned- chewing 'bacca did not. I had to know the prices of all the 'fresh' food items off the top of my head. I had to know how much soda cost off the top of my head. if I was lucky, the rarer items had prices on them that i could manually type in. Which meant that I *loved* to fuck up prices for people I liked. Oops. Did I ring that up wrong? You'll never know Jim because your cash register at the end of the day is only a list of prices, there's not even items attached for you to be like '.... hey. why is candy selling for 10 cents'- because it's for a single mom that's why Jim.

We made hotdogs? and had icecream and like, chicken salad and shit like that- so you also had to know alllll the info on how to make those things and you had to juggle running the cashregister /and/ making food sometimes. Sometimes there was someone specifically there to do food- especially during like 'lunch rush'. but only sometimes. and you'd get calls for like 'I need 100 all the way hotdogs, and two without chili' and you'd look at the clock and go 'you gonna be here at 2?' and they'd say yes and you'd get to work making 102 fucking hotdogs and trying to fit the paper bags into the food warmer so that they're still warm when some construction worker inevitably rolls in and is like 'yo the foreman called ahead?' If you were unlucky, it would not be '100 _____ hotdogs' and instead it would be like '4 all the way, 2 ketchup and mustard, 4 mustard, 3 ketchup and mustard' and you'd mentally curse the fact they didn't do the mental labor of grouping together all the like hotdogs together for you. and it was always this fun chaotic challenge. my job as an NPC was to make it happen for them. To make their day easier, to get them their gas and their food and get them out of my store with a joke or a smile. I always get so ????? when I see people complaining about like 'ugh don't make x joke to cashiers, they've heard it 100 times that day' and I'm like- man, my dad (a career cashier/store manager/person depending on when in his life you're talking) taught me those were the best. He loved a script. He loved a repetitive joke, something easy to respond to. and honestly, when I'm behind the counter- Same. Same.

I dunno man. Sometimes I miss it. There was something... so interesting about the juxtaposition of like- because it was the kind of store it was- We were something so vital and essential to these people's day- and yet we were also in some ways largely invisible. And for other people, we were the most important interaction that they would have that day. Customers would come in and if you'd been missing and go 'you're back! I came in yesterday and they had so and so up here, ruined my whole damn day.' Dad always talked about how like, for regulars, you were the person they counted on seeing on their way to work- or before they went home. You were a transition that helped them switch gears, and so you wanted to make it a positive interaction. You wanted to make them feel like they mattered, if only for a minute. That kind of job suits my NPC-brain very well.

#I suspect what I actually miss is my dad but we're not talking about that right now

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countessofravenclaw · 11 months ago

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A homeland this north, country dear fathers! Part uno

Winter is the time for holidays, celebrations, and fun. Nina, Gastón, Luna and Matteo receive a wedding invitation to France for the New Years and decide, since they're already going to Europe, why not take everything out of it and take a well-deserved skiing vacation? Simon and Ambar join them and all is set for a relaxing holiday at Finland's northern region called Lapland. A place for speed, reindeer, fun, and dangerous situations... Just kidding, what could possibly go wrong at the winter wonderland? (There is a Finnis Christmas song linked on the title)

Taakse jo jäänyt on syksyn lohduttomuus

“You still think it was a good idea to take Newton out on this weather?” Nina said to Gastón as he came through the door with Newton.

It had been raining hard the whole early October evening, but her husband still thought that it couldn’t possibly be stopping him from going on his run with their dog.

“I turned around when the thunder started.” Gastón said, as that would make it any less crazy.

“You’re soaked to the skin,” Nina walked into the downstairs bathroom and grabbed Newton’s towel and handed it to Gastón. Newton was just sitting on the floor next to him wagging his tail and tongue out—also soaking wet, “He’s gonna zoom around for an hour now.”

“Then let's let him,” Gastón just laughed, “Hey look, I turn 27 next week and be in my late twenties, so I gotta have the fun now.”

“Getting poured on is fun?” Nina just shook her head again before her eyes focused on a pile of papers on the chest of drawers, “What’s that?”

“I got the post,” Gastón answered as he hung his, completely soaked through, jacked on a hanger.

“I don’t know why we still have paper post delivered,” Nina picked up the envelopes, “How has it not died yet? I’ll look through them, you need to go shower and change before you catch a cold.”

Nina put the envelopes on the coffee table as she sat down on the couch after Gastón had gone up. Newton curled next to her as she opened her phone. Her publishing agency had sent her couple of emails that she had left unread earlier in the day, so she opened them now. They were about the publishing announcement of her third book, which would finish her debut trilogy that she had started while in university.

Something that had started as a “stupid idea”, although Gastón liked to differ on the topic, was now finished and had given her defining career, and she honestly was getting a weird feeling of sadness about it. One era in her life was kind of over and she needed to figure out what to do next.

“Was there anything interesting?” Gastón walked back down the stairs.

“Where?” Nina looked up as he sat on the other side of Newton, who was dead asleep in a bagel position.

“In the envelopes?” Gastón asked again amused, “We don’t get much paper post. Who on earth is sending some?”

“I didn’t look at them yet.” Nina admitted, “I had a couple of emails from Mereilla that I needed to read. You know, about the press release and about quotes for it.”

“They are sending you those now?” Gastón furrowed his brow, “They couldn’t wait till tomorrow?”

“They came earlier today actually,” Nina opened her phone again, “I just didn’t look at them. You know how busy the end of the year is if the book comes out in January. But there is nothing I can do about these now. I’ll be going over there for that meeting on Monday anyway.” Nina put her phone away and reached for the post.

Most of the envelopes were either advertisements or some other insignificant stuff. Under all those on the other hand was a thicker envelope.

It was dusty rose-colored, and envelope was really textured. Her and Gastón’s names were written with perfect cursive on the front with their address. The stamps indicated that the envelope had come all the way from France. It was even sealed with a wax seal that had the initials “O & F” on it.

“I think we know what this is,” Nina handed it to Gastón, because she would never be able to break the seal. She didn’t have the fine motor skills for that.

“I thought for sure they wouldn’t send paper ones,” Gastón remarked, “But here we are. Explains why it took so long. I was already starting to get worried.”

He pulled the invitation out of the envelope and handed it to Nina.

It read:

Flor Astrella and Oliver Carson invite you to celebrate with them as they become Mr. and Mrs. Carson on 31st of December 2026 at The subterranean monolithic church of Saint-Jean 18 Rue St Jean, 16390 Aubeterre-sur-Dronne, France Starting 15:00 The reception will be held afterward at Le Château Charmant Le Bourg 16320 Boisné-la-Tude, France

“So, they did settle for the new year’s after all,” Gastón remarked, “Now I need to call James and Jacob to see if they knew and I was the one left waiting for the invite. Well, now we don’t need to make plans for the new year’s.”

“Well, we do need a plan,” Nina noted, “since we’re traveling to France.”

“I know that,” Gastón laughed and grabbed the tablet that had been on the coffee table, “So, the closest airport to that place is the Bergerac and there is a train station near as well, the Chalais. I think it might be smarter to get a hotel closer to the airport… Good thing about this is that I don’t need to get any time off, so we can do what we want.”

The whole executive team at Castillo Corporation had a consecutive summer vacation from the 19th of December to the end of January.

“So, if we got this today…” Nina was turning the invitation on her hands, “...although, I doubt Luna and Matteo check their mailbox every day. Should we call them to tell them that these have come?”

“You are so certain they are invited?” Gastón was grinning at her, and Nina rolled her eyes at him. Gastón had been the one to matchmake Flor and Oliver at Oxford, once upon time, and Nina had helped. They had been close personal friends with them, ever since Oliver had been Gastón’s roommate, but Matteo was Flor’s cousin. “Just joking, Matteo would never speak to Flor again if she didn’t invite him. These surely were sent in the same batch.”

“We should talk to them before we book any accommodation,” Nina continued, “So we can do it together.”

“I agree,” Gastón nodded, “but do we really wanna spoil the joy that they got a wedding invitation, given that nobody really knew when this was gonna be happening. Last time I asked, Oliver gave me like three dates. Maybe we should just wait until at least tomorrow for them to get it and then talk.”

“You’re right,” Nina nodded and scooted closer to lean on Gastón’s shoulder. Newton was still between them, but they were used to the clingy third-wheeling dog. They wouldn’t have it any other way. “You know, there has been so many weddings since we came back.”

“That’s true,” Gastón seemed to count with his fingers, “Simon and Ambar, Us, Pedro and Delfi, Elizabeth, then my uncle, Luna and Matteo, Jonathan and Windy… That’s all, right? That’s seven, Flor and Oliver are the eight.”

“It’ll be nice to be just a guest again,” Nina continued, “Being a bridesmaid has been exhausting. Your uncle’s wedding was really nice.”

“Because your boss, who had very recently promoted you very unexpectedly, wasn’t there. The aforementioned boss being also a person who your parents don’t particularly like. I still wonder why Mom and Dad let me even work at Castillo Corporations.” Gastón laughed slightly, “Flor and Oliver’s wedding will be so much more peaceful. And I definitely see why they chose the date… New years can be so romantic…”

Nina smiled as she felt his hand creep up around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Your suits are still fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Gastón nodded, “I don’t think I will wear the black one, though. I wear it too much for work. I don’t want to feel like I’m in the business meeting with people from Tokyo while celebrating my friends’ marriage.”

“Wear the blue one,” Nina simply stated. She couldn’t fully agree with his sentiment about the black suit, not that she understood anything about engineering collaborations with the Japanese, because she did not mind at all looking at Gastón in a suit. He looked way too good in business casual, or any kind of other formal wear. “I’ll have to call Mora, because I don’t have anything for an actual winter wedding. It’s probably going to be quite cold.”

“Just make sure it has a zipper on it.”

“You have a preference now?” Nina asked Gastón playfully. She knew exactly what he meant by that.

“What if I do?” he answered her glance. Her hand started running up his bare arm—He had thrown on just a T-shirt after the shower. “You know that Mora doesn’t look at me normally anymore.”

“Then maybe you should learn how to open buttons,” Nina continued, “She knows that they don’t fall off my clothes just naturally when she has to fix them.”

“I’m working on it…but only way I can do that, is by—” Their faces had gotten steadily closer as the back and forth had gone on. Now there were only millimeters, and she could feel his breath on her face, “—practice.”

Newton whined as he jumped off the couch before he was completely squeezed between them. He was probably giving them a very judgmental look from the floor, but neither Gastón nor Nina didn’t see it, because they were so wrapped up in each other.

They were only interrupted by a phone ringing on the coffee table.

“We really should get a soundproof safe where we can put those into,” Gastón huffed annoyed, “We get way too many mystery phone calls at very inconvenient times. That’s yours. Who is it?”

“Luna,” Nina grabbed her phone, “Who would have thought? No more mystery relatives. Well, I actually don’t have ones”

“I swear Luna and Matteo have some kind of sixth sense for extremely poor timing,” Gastón shook his head, “Mark my words, if we end up not being able to have children, it’s because they are not giving us the chance.”

“I’ll get rid of her as quickly as I can,” Nina laughed. Gastón was right in some sense. Luna was 25 and a grown woman, but she still had retained her never-ending positivity and innocence… She did sometimes have a habit of not realizing that she had just walked in on something.

Luna was calling a video, but Nina didn’t really deem it necessary to get up. Hopefully, this wasn’t going to be that long of a conversation.

“Hey!” She pressed the button and Luna's face became visible on the screen.

“Hii!” Luna was clearly beaming, “So, guess what?”

“What?” Had Luna called to play charades?

“Guess where me and Matteo are spending the New Years?” Nina shared a glance with Gastón. Either Luna and Matteo had checked their mail, or this was a huge coincidence.

“Well, where?”

“No, you have to guess.” Luna continued.

“Okay,” Nina rolled her eyes at her. She wasn’t that in the mood for a long-winded guessing game, especially since she knew the answer. “France?”

“How did you know?” Luna exclaimed.

“This came in the mail,” Nina showed the envelope on the camera.

“Told you they had gotten it as well! “Matteo’s voice came from the background.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to assume!” Luna yelled back.

“You do realize right that we actually kind of know Oliver and Flor better than you do.” Gastón joined in the conversation, “Or at least more recently.”

“Hey! I know my cousin better than anybody!” Matteo appeared next to Luna on screen.

“I mean, she’s getting married so somebody might know her pretty well…”

“Yeah, I prefer not to think about that.”

Nina propped her phone up on the coffee table, as this conversation seemed to become a four-way one. She cuddled on Gastón’s side, and he wrapped his arm back around her waist. This was probably gonna take a while after all, so no reason why she shouldn’t be comfortable.

“Well, we were actually also wondering if you had gotten the invite, since they aren’t giving us that much time,” Gastón continued, “We should look at the accommodations. It's probably easiest to arrive a day before.”

“Yeah,” Matteo was rubbing his neck, “I get why they’re having it in France, since that's where they live, but I gotta admit, this does feel like a bit of a hassle to go all the way there for just two nights...”

“Well, we’re not in any kind of hurry to leave,” Nina started saying. “It’s winter there, so there could be lot of things to see that you don’t in Summer.”

“Wait,” Matteo looked pensive for a moment, “What if we went skiing, on the Alps.”

“That’s a really good idea!” Luna exclaimed, “Although, I have never skied… But it looks so much fun. Lets do it!”

“We actually never have been skiing together,” Gastón noted to Matteo, “I often went to Canada with my parents, when I was younger. But I agree, that’s a good plan. We’re all on vacation anyway, so we could just find a ski resort in the alps and stay a week or two. What do you think?”

“Well, I also have never skied—” Nina answered the question directed at her, “—nor will I. It seems dangerous. Anyway, I like the plan, there are other things to do for me.”

“Oh my god! We’re going skiing! I’m gonna see snow!” Luna had gotten up and was doing some sort of dance.

“In this case, we need to plan even more,” Gastón piped up again, “You should come over tomorrow so we can get all of this sorted.”

***

“If we want to go to the Zillertal Arena, Gerlost is the closest town, so we could stay there.” Matteo was crouching down toward the laptop.

He was glad that they had come up with this plan. He hadn’t been skiing in a while, and since they were in Europe anyway, why not take everything out of it. Obviously, he was super happy for Flor too and excited for the wedding as well.

“I don’t know,” Gastón seemed to shake his head, “Do we wanna stay in a hotel? I mean could we Airbnb a villa or something?”

“Uuuuu. Good idea!” Luna jumped up from the floor where she had been trying to get Newton to give her a paw… He hadn’t fully mastered obeying someone outside of Gastón and Nina yet.

“That was in Austria, right?” Nina looked up as well, “What’s the closest airport?”

“Innsbruck,” Gastón answered, “It’s about an hour away. We do have to connect from Charles de Gaullen. Anyways, then we can rent a car from the airport and just drive—”

His phone started ringing.

“Really?” Gastón grabbed his phone from his pocket. “I’m sorry, but I have to answer this. I’m still on call for a couple of hours.” He got up from the couch, “Gastón Perida.”

“You sure you don’t want to try skiing?” Luna had joined Nina back on the floor with Newton while Matteo kept scrolling on all the different booking sites.

“I have never done it before.” Nina shook her head and held her hand out for Newton, “Newton, give me the paw.” The dog obliged immediately, giving his left paw to Nina's hand, “Good boy. You see, it’s about the tone of voice and eye contact. Treats also help.”

“I have never done it either,” Luna grabbed a couple of treats from the coffee table and threw them in the air while Newton caught them. “But it seems like so much fun. I need to take lessons, we could do it together. Who’s the bestest boy in the world?” She sunk her fingers in Newton’s fur to ruffle it aggressively, “Give me a paw?”

Newton just sat down next to Luna wagging his tail and looking at her confused.

“Why isn’t it working?”

“You’re too easy target,” Matteo laughed from the couch, “You give way too many treats as it is, so he doesn’t see the need to work for them.”

“Anyway, back to topic,” Luna sighed while Newton was now licking her hand, and begging for more treats, “Nina, you never know if you don’t try.”

“I can live with never knowing if can I ski or not,” Nina stated, “I’m not athletic, nor do I enjoy it. I would just get myself hurt.”

“Luna, don’t push it.” Matteo said before Luna was able to open her mouth again. “What’s taking Gastón so long?” He craned his neck to look towards the guest room of Gastón and Nina’s house, where he had gone to take his call.

“I don’t know,” Nina looked at the same direction, her face showing mild concern. “He doesn’t usually get calls that take this long while on call. Hopefully, there isn’t actually something really wrong, that he needs to start working on.”

Just as Nina had finished saying that, the door opened back up and Gastón walked out of the room. To Matteo, it kind of looked like he was shaking his head slightly and looking annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” Nina got up from the floor at once and walked up to Gastón. If Matteo had slightly sensed that something wasn’t right with Gastón after that phone call, Nina obviously had picked on it immediately.

“There is nothing wrong, exactly,” Gastón sighed, “I don’t necessarily have good news.”

“What is it?” Matteo frowned as Gastón and Nina came to sit back on the couch.

“So, the call I just got was not from a panicked client who is worried about some bridge structure,” Gastón started, “It was our international representation and relations coordinator.”

“Okay, I don’t know who that is, but sounds important,” Luna remarked from the floor.

“What did they want with you?” Nina asked while ruffling Gastón’s hair. It was a comforting and affectionate gesture that, Matteo was pretty sure, she had adopted from Isla.

“Well, thats the thing.” Gastón continued, “I am being sent on the behalf of Castillo Corporations to give a series of lectures about our work to Aalto University.”

“Isn’t that an honor?” Luna asked again from the floor. “I love talking about skating to kids.”

“It would be,” Gastón sighed, “If this wasn’t going to happen on January 2nd, 2027.”

“Two days after the wedding?” Matteo asked shocked.

“Where is Aalto University?” Nina questioned, “You said it was an international affair. That’s not in Buenos Aires.”

“Aalto University is the most prominent engineering, business, and art university in Finland.”

“Finland?”

“Where is that?” Luna was making a lot of pondering faces, while Newton next to her was just staring at everyone.

“In northern Europe,” Gastón answered, “In between Sweden and Russia…but this means that alps are gonna be a bust, since I have to fly straight to Finland after the wedding. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Nina had taken his hand, “But, are they allowed to do this? You are supposed to be on vacation.”

“They are if all the bases are covered,” Gastón nodded, “I’m compensated for the lost day, getting paid, and getting a bonus. Apparently, this is really important…and I’m an assistant engineer, the most junior at that, in the team. I have not even been on the field for five years. I have no basis to refuse.”

“They’re not giving you a lot of warning,” Matteo frowned.

“From what I understood, there was an unexpected change of circumstances. PR usually handles all kinds of school exhibitions when it comes to possible career presentations, but apparently, these lectures are part of some sort of summit with a bunch of different companies. I need to attend an assembly with them, representing us and our work against the climate change and stuff. PR rep can’t do that, it needs to be somebody who is actually working on the stuff, meaning an executive team member, and apparently all the higher-ups unanimously wanted me to do it.”

“Aren’t you a higher-up?” Luna questioned.

“If I start explaining the bureaucratic hierarchy, we will be here till the wedding. I don’t even get it myself sometimes.” Gastón sighed again, “The bottom line is, that this foils our plans.”

“Your work doesn’t need to stop us,” Luna piped up. She had that look in her eyes, which signified that she had had an idea.

“I don’t think any of us want to be flying back and forth between France, Finland and the Alps.”

“I didn’t mean the Alps, or whatever,” Luna jumped up from the floor to a standing position. “Why can’t we all just go to Finland? It’s still a European country, is it not? Can’t we ski there?”

“Actually, I think we can…” Matteo muttered, and he understood what Luna meant, “It’s really in the North, they surely have snow.”

“Okay, I looked it up,” Nina had been on her phone, “Finland is in the Nordic regions and its largest northernmost region is called Lapland. It’s a huge tourism destination, for example for skiing. The Artic Circle runs across it… and it’s where the Santa lives.”

“Really!?!” Luna turned around.

“Let her explain,” Matteo pulled Luna on the couch.

“The really popular ski resort there is called Saariselkä,” Nina read, “It’s a little less commercial, than other ones…apparently… We could probably find and nice Villa there where we could stay and there would be a lot to see. And… was the University close to the capital?”

“I think so,” Gastón frowned, “It was somewhere called Otaniemi, which was in somewhere called Espoo. I need to look those up, but it sounded like in the capital area, like close to the airport.”

“So, we can just look around at the capital, while you’re in your conference.”

“That’s settled,” Matteo clapped his hands, “We fly to Finland after the wedding, Gastón does his thing and then have a fun vacation.”

“Yeah,” Gastón was nodding again, “Although, I’m just a little worried about the Jet lag. I think we should go to France as soon as possible after Christmas, just to get used to the European time, to actually be presentable at places.”

“That makes sense,” Nina nodded, “We can't leave until Boxing Day is over, and then we need time to pack, so the 28th? It will be a long flight.”

“I apparently get all the necessary information on Monday, so we can’t do any booking on the Finland’s front before it, but we should get the flight and the hotel to France now, so the ball is rolling.”

***

“I swear that’s the case,” Ambar said as she sipped her drink while she and Luna were sitting on the terrace of her and Simon’s house. Luna had eaten dinner with them as Matteo had a meeting with his management, “She doesn’t usually act like that. There has to be a reason.”

“How do you know?” Luna grabbed another cookie from the table. Simon and Ambar had gotten really into baking together recently, “These are super good.”

“Thanks!” Simon said as he walked back out and sat next to Ambar on the swing, “We asked the recipe from Monica.”

“I just have this gut feeling.” Ambar continued. “Watch me be right.”

“Moving away from that topic,” Simon grabbed his drink, “What are you and Matteo doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing special. Haven’t decided yet. Sofia and Alexander are apparently going to be in Italy, so I guess we could go stay with Mom and dad in the mansion” Luna shrugged, “Uuuu, are you going to Mexico?”

Both Simon and Ambar shook their heads.

“We need to try to make that happened at some point,” Ambar looked at Simon, “It feels so unfair to your parents that we’re never there for Christmas.”

“Trust me, its chaotic” Simon laughed, “We’re probably better off here.”

“I don’t mind some chaos.” Ambar smirked at him. “We really should try and make the effort. They must miss you.”

“I know,” Simon nodded, “I mean it would be nice, but a bit of a hassle. We can try next year.”

“Thats a deal.” Ambar smiled.

“Oh,” Luna’s eyes widened in some kind of realization, “I didn’t tell you yet. We’re going to France for the New Years!”

“France?” Simon questioned, “How did you come up with that? What you’re gonna do?”

“We’re going to a wedding.” Luna explained while pulling picture of the invite up on her phone.”

“That’s great!” Ambar took a look at the invite, “Flor? She was Matteo’s cousin, right? And… Did you know the groom too? Sounds familiar.”

“Well, not really, but kind of,” Luna looked at her drink, “Gastón and Nina know him…”

“Oh right,” A realization hit Ambar, “He was Gastón’s roommate. I almost forgot, it has been so long. This makes sense though, she caught Nina’s bouquet and everything.”

They had spent considerable time with Gastón and Nina’s group from Oxford during the days leading to and after their wedding, but that had been quite a long ago now. They had gotten along well, and Ambar was actually a little sad that they had not been able to get to know each other a little better.

“So, four of you are going there together?” Simon asked.

“Of course, they are,” Ambar kept looking at the invite, “Wasn’t it Gastón and Nina who made them get together in the first place?”

“I think it was,” Luna nodded, and started laughing “Oh, I remember when Matteo found out… It was so funny. Before I forget, I need to tell you about this awesome plan we came up with.”

“What plan?”

“Wait for it…” Luna paused for suspense, “We’re going skiing! Since we’re already at Europe.”

“You are going skiing?” Ambar looked at Luna questionly “Have you even skied before?”

“Nope,” Luna spun on her chair, “But it looks so much fun… I thought I might try a snow board, or why not both?”

“It is fun,” Ambar nodded.

“When have you been skiing?” Simon turned to Ambar.

“When I was younger, Sharon had often business with some Ski resort people. I got to do what I wanted, so I signed myself up for some private lessons and then spent my day on the slopes. She didn’t care, only took care of the bill.” Ambar explained, “Then we stopped, which was a shame. That place was always one of the more fun vacations I took with her. All that said, it was really fun and quite similar to skating.”

“Well, I have never skied, or done any other winter sport,” Simon seemed to shiver from a thought. “I have never seen snow.”

“Me neither,” Luna jumped up for a moment, “I’m so excited. I wanna make a snowman so badly.”

“You didn’t tell us where you we’re going skiing.”

“Oh, I didn’t?” Luna sat back down and started talking with very fast pace, “We thought about the Alps at first, but Gastón got a call from his job, so we couldn’t do that so now we’re going to Lapland.”

“Wait, Luna, slow down,” Simon interrupted, “So you couldn’t go to the Alps. What does Gastón’s job have to do with anything?”

“Because he got called to do something at Aalto University right after the wedding.”

“Aalto University?” Ambar questioned, “Isn’t that in Finland?”

“Yes,” Luna nodded, “That’s why we’re all going there and then we’ll go far off north from there and stay somewhere called Saariselkä, where we can ski.”

“Now I’m jealous,” Ambar hummed. She had met couple of finnish exchange students while in law school, “I had to take couple of business classes at UCA, and there were couple of exchange students from that school specifically. All of the countries up north of Europe are intriguing, not the mention beautiful. Is Gastón doing some lectures there or…?”

“I don’t know, something like it,” Luna shrugged, “Ask him.”

“I will,” Ambar continued, “That school has very high rankings on digitalization and sustainable innovations.”

“Well, it sounds like you have a lot of fun planned,” Simon took a bite of his fifth cookie.

“Simon, we don’t have anything planned for New year’s and after, right?” Ambar suddenly asked. “You’re taking a break with the band?”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded, “Pedro was the one to insist on the full vacation for the summer. Why?”

“Just that…” Ambar continued with a pensative voice, before she turned to look at Luna, “...any chance we could come with you?”

“With us?”

“Yes,” Ambar continued, “Not to France obviously, since we’re not invited, but we could meet up with you once you’re heading up to the north.”

“You mean we would go to ski too?” Simon looked at her quizzingly, “You realize that I have never done it right?”

“Of course, I know that darling,” Ambar patted Simon on his arm, “But Luna’s taking lessons, and so would I need too, so we could all do it together. It’s so much fun, almost like skating, but just down a slope. You’d like it. Right, Luna?”

“Yeah, of course!” Luna exclaimed, “Simon, it would be so much fun. I’m sure you’ll like it!”

“Well, okay then. This is a battle I can’t win.” Simon laughed and shook his head.

“So, I think I should call Nina now,” Ambar got up and grabbed her phone from the table, “just to make sure they’re okay with this.”

“I’m sure they will be.”

“But, it’s good still to ask.”

Ambar walked back inside and opened the door to the side room that Simon used for playing music.

“Hey! Ambar.” Nina answered her phone at once. The audio quality sounded like she was somewhere out, with footsteps and background noise, and talking through air pods.

“Hey! Is it a bad time?”

“No. I just got out of a meeting with my publishers, which ran a bit late. Just heading home now.” Nina answered as the footsteps kept going, “What’s up?”

“So, Luna told us about your plans,” Ambar continued, “That you’re going to Finland.”

“Yeah, Gastón got a mission from work to go there.”

“Must have been an honor for him. Getting to go represent the company in that scale, it’s pretty big.”

“It is, and I know he appreciates it in a way. The timing could have been better, though.”

“Well, about that.” Ambar started again, “Like I said, Luna told us about the plan for skiing at Saariselkä… and I wanted to ask if you have nothing against that me and Simon would be coming too? I haven’t skied in a long time, but I have wanted to get back into it for a while now. Plus, I think Simon could use some exposure to cold air.”

“Of course, we don’t have anything against it,” Nina’s voice said on the other end, “It would be amazing if you came too.”

“That’s great. What day was it when you’re gonna be heading up to Lapland?”

“We’re gonna finish the timeline today, as Gastón gets the details. Your timing is actually perfect, because we haven’t booked anything yet.”

“I can help with that.”

“You want to talk to Gastón about that, he has been coordinating this the most.”

***

“Yeah, two nights at Otaniemi, and then we’ll fly to Rovaniemi,” Gastón recapped for Matteo, as they, plus their wives were sitting in Gastón and Nina’s living room one late October evening.

“Ambar and Simon are meeting us at the airport when we fly to Lapland,” Nina explained, “We can go look around at the capital Helsinki while Gastón is giving those lectures at the Aalto University.”

“Well, you seem to have it all under control.” Matteo leaned back on the couch, “Remind me to travel with you more often.”

“I don’t know how I can wait two months!” Luna exclaimed from the floor where she had been playing with Newton. “By the way, is Newton going to that doggy-daycare again for that? We will be gone for almost three weeks.”

“No,” Gastón answered, “Delfi and Pedro will be taking care of him.”

“Delfi and Pedro?” Matteo questioned.

“Delfi has had dogs her whole life,” Nina explained, “She has sometimes gone with me to walk him when we have been talking about her producing that book trailer for me.”

“I do wonder if they are planning on getting a dog themselves,” Gastón pondered. “Pedro said something about it being good practice. Who knows what that’s about.”

“Well, that would be a bit odd,” Luna continued, “I mean, Ambar said that she swears that Delfi is pregnant so…”

“Really?” Nina questioned, “Huh, well that would actually make sense. She has seemed a bit tired, but we shouldn’t really speculate on that. It’s not our business.”

“They will probably tell us when it is its time,” Matteo started speaking, “Not like we are on the godparent short list.”

“I think Jazmin has the dips on that,” Luna noted, “Ambar did say that she is willing to go to war about it.”

“Poor Delfi and Pedro.”

“I hope we get to know before I start Christmas shopping,” Luna said while scratching Newton behind his ear. “I can already come up with so many cute things to give them.”

“Luna, it is October.”

“Yeah, so I only have two months to do the shopping and wrapping,” Luna countered.

“Don’t even speak to me about Christmas shopping yet,” Nina sighed, “Year by year it gets harder. It feels like everyone already has everything, especially after all the wedding gifts. I don’t even know what to ask myself.”

“Probably something everyone has trouble with as we are supposed to be so called adults now or something,” Matteo sighed too.

“Uuuuh! Let’s play a game!” Luna said so excitedly that she scared Newton and made him jump from her lap onto the sofa and curl next to Nina while eyeing Luna judgmentally. “Uups, sorry.”

“Should we be scared?” Gastón joked.

“No,” Luna roller her eyes. “What is the best gift you remember getting as a kid? Maybe that can give us some inspiration for gifts this year. Hold up a second, I’ll text Simon and Ambar that as well… you know what, I’ll just put that in the group chat and tell everyone to record a video about it so we can all know each other’s… okay that is done… So, who goes first?” Luna clicked her phone’s record button and started a video.

“Uhmmm, I can.” Matteo spoke hesitantly and Luna turned her phone towards him.

“Go ahead, it is already recording.”

“Uhm… okay,” Matteo started, “When I was nine, the last Christmas… before Mom died, I had just started piano lessons because dad wanted me to do that instead of playing the guitar. But they still gave me my first guitar as a Christmas present and mom asked me to sign it, and of course she didn’t know, none of us did, but she still got to witness my first autograph ever. I think the guitar is somewhere at storage at Dad and Sofia’s place right now.”

“We need to go find it!” Luna exclaimed, “I wanna see it!”

“We can go do that, but I do not know where it actually is.”

“No problem! Nothing is impossible to Luna Valente!” Luna stopped the recording and pointed the camera towards Nina. “Nina you are next!”

“Okay.” Nina stared at the camera blackly for a second, “Uhm, so. Well, this will sound really cliche, but it was a book. It was the Christmas right after Mon and Dad had finally gotten divorced… I remember it because that really was the first Christmas, I remember having some peace and them not fighting, since they were not together, obviously. Mom and Dad, both gave me the same book as a presents, I didn’t tell them that, obviously because I didn’t want them to fight. But to me it just kind of symbolized that they were on some small level on the same page, by both knowing what I wanted, even if they did not know how to communicate and would not for many years.”

“What book was that?” Gastón asked and reached for her hand. Newton had crawled on Nina’s lap and had dosed off quietly snoring.

“I don’t remember,” Nina answered. “It was children’s book, and I definitely didn’t take it to Oxford. One of the copies is probably still at dad’s. I think the mom’s copy got lost in some box when we moved to Mora’s. I can ask but it’s probably lost forever.”

“So, your parents still don’t know about that?” Luna asked from behind the camera.

“No, they don’t, and I don’t think I will ever tell them.” Nina said and fiddled with Newton’s ear, “Well that was that.”

“I’ll go last.” Luna started another video on her phone. “So Gastón, your turn.”

“Okay, mine also involves my parents. It was when they gave me my first camera.” Gastón started. “It was our first Christmas in the house they still live in. I didn’t know it at the time, I was nine or something, since I was on third grade, but that was the time they really had started having money. They gave me this small digital camera, and I did not know how to use it and I thought it was stupid. Like I said: I was nine. Anyways, we actually went to Canada that year for the New Years and that's where I actually learned to ski. There dad took me out and actually taught me how to use the camera and told me that: even if I didn’t appreciate it then, it could bring a lot of things in my life. You all know how Mom and Dad met at the photography course at university, so that’s what he obviously meant, and now I know that he was right.” He scooted closer to Nina on the couch and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Aww, that was cute,” Luna squealed, “Okay, Matteo take this.” she threw her phone to Matteo. “My turn.”

“Okay, it is recording.” Matteo said and directed the phone towards Luna who was still sitting on the floor.

“I don’t fully remember this, since I was five, I think, but Mom and Dad told me that I was always drawn towards all kind of sun and star things.” Luna started, “Well, now we know why, but at the time they just thought it was cute. So, for the Christmas that years they got me this huge sun shaped pillow. And apparently what I said when I got it was: but why is it the sun? I am the moon!! But the pillow was so cute and me and Simon had so much fun jumping on it.”

“What happened to it?” Matteo asked.

“Yeah…” Luna laughed, “We kind of broke it with Simon…”

***

“...and that’s how I got my first guitar.” Simon stopped talking and Ambar pressed the button on the phone to stop the recording.

“There and sent.” She handed Simon his phone back. “Luna and her ideas.”

“I mean this is a good idea,” Simon scrolled through the chat, “Maybe little early, but better be prepared. Your turn.” He pointed the phone at Ambar.

“I don’t know what I am supposed to say to that,” Ambar looked down, “I spent my childhood with Sharon. I need some time to think about the best gift.” She blew out of breath, “She never really cared to make sure I got something I liked… I know, I know, I’ll bring it up to my therapist when I go next.”

“Oh well, there is no hurry with these,” Simon put his phone on the sofa.

“You know what we do need to hurry with?” Ambar opened her laptop. “It’s goig to be up to -30 degrees at Saariselkä.”

“Uuuf,” Simon leaned back on the couch, “I’m gonna become a living snowman.”

“Not if we get the proper gear,” Ambar rolled her eyes at him, “We’ll rent the skiing gear and snowsuits from there, but we both need proper winter jackets, preferably two, lighter and heavier ones. Then gloves, shoes and hats, the list goes on. This will be fun.”

“If we don’t freeze to death.”

“You have lived way too long next to the beach—” Ambar laughed when both of their phones dinged. “—Is that from the group chat?”

“Yeah, it’s Delfi,” Simon frowned looking at the group chat, “It’s a video with a title: Our best Christmas gift will be arriving a little later. What does that mean?”

“GIMME IT!” Ambar grabbed the phone from Simon and looked at the chat, “Oh my god! I knew it.”

“It might not—”

“What else could it possibly mean?” Ambar looked at Simon with disbelief, “Lets look at the video.”

The video was a picture collage of Delfi and Pedro that lasted maybe 15 seconds, until a picture from their wedding faded into a sonogram and a text: “Coming in April.”

“I was right,” Ambar smiled smugly at Simon.

“Have to say that you were,” Simon nodded smiling, “This is amazing. We should call them.”

“Absolutely agree,” Ambar nodded as well, “So we can get the godparent situation sorted as well… Although, Jazmin probably edited this video, which would mean that she knew.”

“Darling, I told you before,” Simon placed his hand on Ambar’s knee, “It’s not our decision. Delfi and Pedro have the right to pick, we’ll get our chance later. Plus, we already have a goddaughter.”

“Valeria is your goddaughter, not mine.”

“What’s mine is yours. That’s kind of how marriage works.”

***

“Nina! Look how cute this is!!” Luna jumped up while holding up a red and green Christmas onesie, “We should get these for Delfi and Pedro.”

“It is cute,” Nina reached out to touch it, “but feel how rough it is. It should be softer, and maybe the Christmas theme is a little too on the nose.”

“Argh, this is hard when we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl,” Luna groaned and put the onesie back.

It was late November and Luna and Nina were at a local mall doing Christmas shopping. They had gotten gifts for everyone else, but had left Delfi and Pedro as the last ones.

“Lot of colors can be considered as gender neutral,” Nina pointed out, “As long as we don’t get pink. Let's look at some light blue ones for example.”

“Isn’t it exciting!” Luna kept gushing, “They are really having a baby. First ones of us to have one.”

“It definitely is,” Nina nodded.

“Just think, maybe someday our kids will be besties, just like us,” Luna grabbed Nina’s arm.

“It’s definitely possible,” Nina laughed, “But we’ll never probably going to control the timing that much. We can’t know if our kids are going to be the same age.”

“Awww, look at that!” Luna dashed towards a display, specifically toward a white romper with grey sleeves and blue giraffes on it. “I’m getting them this one. Uuu, maybe we could buy some more from Finland, so we have baby shower gifts ready.”

“There is no babyshower planned.”

“There definitely will be,” Luna had dashed toward another display, “if Ambar and Jazmin can help it. Oh, did I tell you yet how many hats I have bought for our trip? They’re so cute.”

{}

So, it depends on the platform that you are reading this on, how common knowledge it is that I am in fact Finnish. So obviously I have wanted for the longest time to write a story where our characters go to Finland, and because I am pretty predictable, obviously they would go to Lapland and explore the beauty that our winter wonderland really is. This part was obviously mostly set up, so the story itself will get going little more in the next part. BUt hopefully, you enjoyed Newton's most prominent appearance to this day in my story. One more note, I am a former student of Aalto University, (I changed majors so I switched colleges) so that's why I chose it for this story. However I did have to bend some fact with this, just like with Oxford, there is no classes at the start of January, but that was the date I had to work with to have the wedding for the New Years

#Soy Luna #soy luna fanfiction #gastina #lutteo #simbar #pelfi #kind of in the background #Christmas #DCLA Holidays #Finland #I have my silly faves visit my country

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seitmai · 1 month ago

Text

Very important chapter, so obviously very many thoughts under the cut

You could feel and hear his laughter as one big hand came up to squeeze your shoulder before gliding down your side to your waist. "Make you move? I want to keep you with me forever, Gorgeous." Did he know the extent to which his words excited you every time he said forever? You tried to play it cool, wrapping your arm around his waist, but as soon as his lips met your forehead in a gentle kiss, you whispered, "Forever sounds really good."

I have a feeling that forever is gonna be happening sooner than later 🤭

"Of course you are," you murmured, letting your hand rest on his flat belly. He only took a quick lunch break earlier during Career Day before pulling off the flyover surprise that had your whole school buzzing with excitement. "I don't think you ate enough today. Let's remedy that."

I love so much that she feeds Bradley 🥰

"I did notice," he whispered. "There has to be something there. He was looking at her the way I look at you."

Yes!!🥳

You must have been watching the sexy way he walked for a little too long, because Natasha honked her horn and yelled out the window, "I want some wine!"

Ahahaha I love Nat and honestly would have done the same 😅

"You're going to freak out later," she mumbled, making a left turn. "What?" You weren't sure you'd heard her correctly.

Good god, Nat is playing with fire

"I might have to start bringing headphones again though, because the man will not shut up about you the whole time." You covered your face with your hands while she laughed. "Sorry." "Don't be sorry. It was so bad at times before he met you, I used to have to put my earbuds in and pretend I was listening to him complain about his exes. It was always the same thing. Nat, I don't know how to break up with her, but she's kind of mean to me. Nat, I can't keep taking her to the bar, because she flirts with everyone else. Nat, why is she being so selfish? Nat, I feel like she's just using me. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat." Her voice softened as she said, "It's not like that with you at all. Now he just wants to know if I think his date ideas sound stupid or romantic. And if I think he's crazy for already having you move in."

Geez all of Bradley’s exes sound horrible lol

She grinned as she switched lanes. "Trust me when I say I've given him some solid date ideas. And I told him he would have been miserable if he waited any longer to ask you to live with him. That man is so solidly in love with you, it is disgusting." "The feeling is mutual," you whispered as your cheeks burned.

I wanna know all about Nat's date ideas!!!

"I know. Now let's enjoy some wine while we talk shit about him. I've been way too nice today up to this point."

This is peak Nat and I love it 😅

When Natasha dropped you off after four hours of wine and conversation, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You were already looking forward to hanging out with her again soon.

Those are the best times 🥰

"Bradley?" You glanced at the wall and then back at his face. You weren't even sure if your words were intelligible as you muttered, "Paper planes?" His smile widened. "It's all the letters you and your class sent to me. You know... when you were looking for a Naval aviator to write back and answer a few questions? I guess a few questions turned into a lot more than that. And a simple correspondence with a gorgeous fourth grade teacher soon made me realize that you're the woman of my dreams. My pen pals changed my whole life." He nodded toward the wall. "Your students helped me fold them up yesterday."

Ahhhh what a cute way to pop the question🥰🥹

"It was my mom's." He held up his right hand, fingers curled in a loose fist. You watched as he carefully unfurled them, revealing a ring resting on his palm. "I want you to have it. Unless you don't like it. It's from 1984, and it's definitely vintage, so I won't be upset if you tell me you'd rather have something more modern." He was rambling, but you could barely breathe from the butterflies which were fluttering hard against your ribcage. "Maverick was holding onto her engagement ring for safekeeping. I had no idea until he heard me talking about how desperately I want to marry you."

She is gonna marry him with whatever ring but it's so cute that he shared the backstory of the ring with her 🥰

I'm SO happy that Bradley FINALLY popped the question and has gotten the desired answer 🥰🥹

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has a plan of action, but he needs to make sure you're a little distracted before he can proceed.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, 18+

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Today was exhausting," you whispered, pulling your legs up so you were sitting on Bradley's lap on the couch. His flight suit was a little scratchy, and you were still wearing your dress, but you yawned and nuzzled against his chest in surrender. "Please don't make me move yet."

You could feel and hear his laughter as one big hand came up to squeeze your shoulder before gliding down your side to your waist. "Make you move? I want to keep you with me forever, Gorgeous."

Did he know the extent to which his words excited you every time he said forever? You tried to play it cool, wrapping your arm around his waist, but as soon as his lips met your forehead in a gentle kiss, you whispered, "Forever sounds really good."

His posture stiffened a little bit as his fingers flexed on your waist. You could feel him fighting the urge to jump to his feet with you in his lap.

"What's wrong?" you asked, stifling another yawn.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, but you could tell he was antsy. "Just getting hungry."

"No," he insisted, pulling you back down when you tried to stand. "I can wait a bit longer. We were just getting comfortable."

"Mmm," you hummed. "Did you notice Marty and Ms. Masters earlier? I think there might be something there."

"I did notice," he whispered. "There has to be something there. He was looking at her the way I look at you."

With a smile on your lips, you felt yourself succumbing to the warmth of his body and his deep voice and his big hands.

Soon your eyes were closed, and you were drifting to sleep.

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

Bradley's growling stomach was the least of his concerns as you dozed in his arms and drooled on his Golden Warriors patch. You were clearly exhausted from how busy and emotional this week was. He'd only just returned from a mission where you and he hadn't spoken for weeks, and then you hosted Career Day at work. Hell, he was still tired, and he'd taken the week off from work.

He thought he had himself under control. He thought he would be able to bring you home and let you have a relaxing Friday night. After all, he was in no hurry. But as soon as you told him forever sounded really good, he felt his muscles coil with anticipation. His body told him to get up and prove to you that forever was what he needed. All he had to do was walk into the bathroom and get the engagement ring.

You seemed to be able to feel the energy he was trying to reel in even as you started to fall asleep. Tonight was not the night. Truly all he wanted to do was hold you until tomorrow morning and let you rest, but his foot was bouncing gently. There was always the chance you'd say no or that you weren't ready to be engaged yet, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. But previous conversations indicated otherwise, and he knew he was ready for everything.

His head tipped back against the couch in frustration. He should have told Nat that he wanted to propose sooner rather than later, but she didn't even know he actually had his mother's ring. His best friend would have riled him up more before helping him calm down.

After kissing your forehead a few times to test how asleep you were, he unzipped the side pocket of his flight suit and carefully removed his phone. You shifted a bit, and your nose twitched in the most adorable way, but you dozed on while he texted Nat to see if she could help him out tomorrow. She already told him numerous times that she liked hanging out with you.

"Bradley," you mumbled, arching your back and stretching as soon as he set his phone down on the couch. "You need dinner," you told him with a soft kiss before standing and reaching for him. He took your left hand in his right one, hoping this might be the last night that you weren't wearing the ring that would signify to everyone else that you'd be his wife someday.

"I came up with a plan while you napped," he said softly. "Dinner and then a shower together and then we'll get in bed early. You look so tired after nailing Career Day, Gorgeous. You need a little break."

His stomach growled obnoxiously. "And you need to eat," you told him with a laugh. "Come on. I'll make you something."

"Nope," he replied, gripping you tight as he stood up with you in his arms. "I'm going to take care of it."

You held on as you guided your legs around his waist. Your lips on his scarred cheek took him all the way back to the early days of those flirtatious emails. "Okay, handsome," you whispered, kissing him softly. "I'm not going to argue with you tonight. It's our first weekend with you back home, and I've been missing all of this. I'm finally off tomorrow, and we can relax all day."

When Bradley set you down on the kitchen counter with a kiss to your perfect lips, he heard your phone vibrating on the coffee table and tried not to grin as he asked, "Want me to grab that for you?"

"Please," you replied, looking beyond cute perched between the stove and the wilted bouquet in the makeshift Miller High Life vase. When he backtracked and picked up your phone, Bradley saw that the text notification was from Nat, and he knew he was going to have to take her out for another steak dinner soon as a thank you.

"Oh," you said when you tapped your screen. "Natasha texted me."

"Really?" he asked, feigning surprise as he took inventory of what the refrigerator had to offer. It was honestly a little scary how much he'd eaten since Monday.

"Yeah," you murmured, eyes skimming the message. "She thanked me for inviting her to Career Day. And," you added, giving him a cautious look, "she wants to know if I want to hang out with her tomorrow afternoon. We still have money left on the winery gift card."

"You should go," he urged, pulling everything out to make pancakes for dinner. "I love that my girl gets along with my best friend."

You were chewing your lip nervously. "Yeah?" you asked, thumbs poised like you were ready to type back. "Even though I literally just told you I can't wait to relax with you tomorrow?"

Bradley chuckled, knowing he was leading you in the direction he wanted you to go. But of course you'd be in good hands. "Gorgeous, we can still sleep in late. And as soon as you get home, I'm hoping you'll feel so in love, you'll want to cuddle with me for the rest of the night."

"I always feel so in love with you, Bradley."

He abandoned the eggs and butter as he whispered, "Say my name again?"

"Bradley."

It was another hour before the pancakes were ready.

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

"I thought we were going to sleep in," you whispered, lips brushing Bradley's as his hands explored your naked body. It was around the time you usually woke up for work, and you were still tired. But his words had you pushing him onto his back.

"I missed you so much, I'm still making up for lost time."

His hands were big and rough as you took them in yours and pinned them above his head. His body was beautiful in the early light, all muscular angles and ruddy cheeks. You kissed his biceps and then his stubbled cheek and then his lips. He was already hard, you could feel him. Bradley was strong and sexy, and he was yours.

"I'm not going to lie... I love how much you missed me," you told him before kissing your way along the side of his nose. "Because that's how much I missed you, too."

Bradley's kisses were sweet, yet they lingered. Your hips moved slowly against his body, setting the pace exactly how you wanted it. Your reaction to him was always effortless. His wide pupils let you know it was the same for him.

"Baby," he whined as you tightened your hold on his wrists. He was rubbing himself up against you, looking for the friction you needed as well. Slick with arousal, your pussy welcomed the tip of him, and you rolled your hips slowly, taking him inch by inch until you were full. "Oh, fuck, Gorgeous," he rasped, lips parted as he looked up at you with those pretty brown eyes. "You feel so good."

You went slowly, and your hands eventually found their way to his shoulders. Bradley coaxed you closer until you were kissing him as you worked your hips in a steady rhythm that you knew would give you both what you wanted. You thought about every cold morning you woke up here without him while a bead of sweat rolled down along your spine. You got lost in the way he smelled and how his hair felt between your fingers. He was yours.

"I love you," he groaned. "Oh, I love you so much."

You came on his cock as your movements turned jerky, and he filled you with cum as you whimpered his name. Then you eased your body down so you were laying on top of him. "This is how I want to spend the rest of my life," Bradley whispered. "Loving you and fucking you and cuddling."

With a soft laugh, you relaxed enough to fall asleep again while he ran his fingers along your back.

The next time you woke up, it was three hours later, and Bradley wasn't in bed. He wasn't even at home. After you pulled on his sweatshirt, you found a note on top of the sandwich he made for your lunch in the refrigerator.

Out for a quick run with Nat, and then I'm stopping at Home Depot for Edith. I love you.

You enjoyed your sandwich quietly in the kitchen while taking inventory of the grocery situation. Bradley already ate everything which made you smile. It would take a few weeks, but you'd make sure he bulked up again. Maybe you could get him to go shopping with you tomorrow morning.

When you sat down on the couch with your phone, you were pleasantly reminded of how sore you still were from the past few days with Bradley back from deployment. The gentle ache brought with it the memory of how much better your orgasms were with him than alone. You really needed to start getting dressed since you were sure Nat was going to want to head to the winery after they finished their run, but you stayed sprawled out on the couch until Bradley walked back inside.

"Hey, Gorgeous," he rasped, still a little sweaty in his gym clothes and carrying a bag from the hardware store. "You got enough rest?"

"I did," you giggled as he tossed the bag onto the coffee table and straddled your waist. "Do you think we should buy a bigger couch at some point?"

"Nah. This one's more fun," he replied as your fingers threaded through his damp hair. "Means I can get nice and close."

Would this needy feeling for him ever go away? You hoped not. But just as soon as he really kissed you nice and hard, he was pulling away. Bradley smacked you lightly on your rear end where he spanked you the other night.

"You better get ready to go with Nat. And I need to fix Edith's mailbox and get my free piano lesson."

"And then when I get home, we're cuddling and watching a movie right here," you told him firmly, patting the couch cushion.

"As long as you still want to."

You rolled your eyes. Of course that's what you were going to want to do. Maybe you and he could even enjoy some more wine after you had wine with his friend. You were smiling as you thought about the plethora of wine you might be enjoying today as you got dressed in some jeans and an oversized sweater. You skipped makeup, because it was Saturday, and when Natasha arrived, you walked outside with Bradley.

"I love you. Call if you need me," he crooned, kissing you and waving before turning toward Edith's house.

You must have been watching the sexy way he walked for a little too long, because Natasha honked her horn and yelled out the window, "I want some wine!"

"Sorry!" you told her, laughing as you climbed in the passenger seat.

She was pulling away from the curb when she replied, "It's nice to see you so happy again. You seemed to have a good time at Career Day, and now you're all smiles for your boyfriend."

"I missed him so much," you said, watching Bradley get smaller in the side view mirror as she drove. "I felt instantly better when he got home from Norfolk."

"You're going to freak out later," she mumbled, making a left turn.

"What?" You weren't sure you'd heard her correctly.

"Nothing. You ready for some wine?"

"Absolutely. We can finish off the gift card," you told her. "And I found another winery for us to try next time that serves frozen wine slushies."

"That sounds like heaven. Thank god you fell in love with Bradley so we can have girls' days."

That put a permanent smile on your face. Just knowing that Natasha thought you and he were a good match really meant a lot. She'd known him for a long time.

"How was your run earlier?" you asked, settling in for the ride.

"Running in February is always better than running in July or August," she replied easily. "I might have to start bringing headphones again though, because the man will not shut up about you the whole time."

You covered your face with your hands while she laughed. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was so bad at times before he met you, I used to have to put my earbuds in and pretend I was listening to him complain about his exes. It was always the same thing. Nat, I don't know how to break up with her, but she's kind of mean to me. Nat, I can't keep taking her to the bar, because she flirts with everyone else. Nat, why is she being so selfish? Nat, I feel like she's just using me. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat." Her voice softened as she said, "It's not like that with you at all. Now he just wants to know if I think his date ideas sound stupid or romantic. And if I think he's crazy for already having you move in."

"What did you tell him?" you asked immediately.

"The feeling is mutual," you whispered as your cheeks burned.

"I know. Now let's enjoy some wine while we talk shit about him. I've been way too nice today up to this point."

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

When Natasha dropped you off after four hours of wine and conversation, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You were already looking forward to hanging out with her again soon.

"Want me to tell Bradley you'll run with him tomorrow morning?" you asked, leaning back in the passenger side door as you stood next to her car.

"Nope," she replied, shaking her head. "There's no way he's going to want to get up and run in the morning. Tell him I'll see him at work."

"Okay," you replied, confused by her thought process. Bradley usually liked getting his cardio workouts in with a partner rather than alone. You'd follow up with him about it in a minute. "Thanks for driving. Wine slushies next time?"

"Wine slushies next time. Enjoy your night," she said with a wink.

You waved as she drove off, the sky getting dark and the air cooling down even further around you. Edith's mailbox next door looked perfect once more, so Bradley must have finished that project. You shivered as you hustled up to your front door ready to get inside and into the warmth of his arms.

The living room was a little darker than usual when you walked in, and then you realized it was because the only light was coming from your candles which had been placed around the room. You were about to call out for Bradley and ask him why he was burning every single candle you brought with you when you moved in, but then you froze.

"Oh my god," you gasped, taking one stumbling step further into the room to get a closer look. The flickering light illuminated dozens and dozens of paper airplanes all folded up and taped to the dark blue wall above the couch. They were arranged beautifully, and you swallowed hard when you realized they spelled out a message.

MARRY ME?

It was just two words, but they took up the whole wall. Your fingers were shaking as you brought them up to your lips, and then you heard Bradley's voice.

"Hey, Gorgeous," came that familiar rasp. You turned to face him as he stood there in one of his tropical print shirts and his worn out jeans with a nervous smile on his face.

"Bradley?" You glanced at the wall and then back at his face. You weren't even sure if your words were intelligible as you muttered, "Paper planes?"

His smile widened. "It's all the letters you and your class sent to me. You know... when you were looking for a Naval aviator to write back and answer a few questions? I guess a few questions turned into a lot more than that. And a simple correspondence with a gorgeous fourth grade teacher soon made me realize that you're the woman of my dreams. My pen pals changed my whole life." He nodded toward the wall. "Your students helped me fold them up yesterday."

"They did?" you managed as he took a step closer until he was right in front of you, and then and sank down onto one knee.

"They did." He was all vulnerable brown eyes and sincerity as he looked up at you and said, "I love you. And I have something for you, Gorgeous." He swallowed hard. "It was my mom's." He held up his right hand, fingers curled in a loose fist. You watched as he carefully unfurled them, revealing a ring resting on his palm. "I want you to have it. Unless you don't like it. It's from 1984, and it's definitely vintage, so I won't be upset if you tell me you'd rather have something more modern." He was rambling, but you could barely breathe from the butterflies which were fluttering hard against your ribcage. "Maverick was holding onto her engagement ring for safekeeping. I had no idea until he heard me talking about how desperately I want to marry you."

"Bradley," you gasped, trying to hold back your tears as you sucked in shallow breaths. "Are you serious?"

You'd known him for less than a year, but you never felt this comfortable or safe around another person before. You never felt so loved. When he raised his hand a little higher like he was ready to hand you the ring along with his heart, he said, "I'm serious. You told me forever sounds good to you. It sounds good to me, too. I think we should do it. Will you marry me?"

There was really only one acceptable answer when you knew he belonged with you. When you were certain your future and his matched up perfectly. When there was no chance you could love anyone else like you loved him.

"Yes."

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

Yes. Yes. Yesss! Thanks kiddos, for making it extra special. I don't think any of them will be surprised to find their teacher sporting some new jewelry at school. Bradley plus Gorgeous equals forever.

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charastarte · 1 year ago

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Tabletop Roleplaying Games and Writing Stories

Picture this; You're writing a fiction novel. Your characters are doing stuff, they have powers and gadgets, it's a grand ol' time! But then bam! You've hit a wall. The dreaded writer's block, it happens to the best of us. Not only that, sometimes the plaanning ofi t all makes our heads spin!! Believe it or not, a flourishing facet of nerd culture have had to combat this issue for decades,, the Tabletop Roleplaying Community.

For those not aware, Tabletop Roleplaying Games (TTRPGs) are a series of board games that do away with singular dice and a laminated game board, in favor of paper, pencil, and several shiny dice that you will slowly start collecting thousands of. How do you play you might ask? Generally depends on the game, after all monopoly is a different beast to chutes and ladders. We'll take the oldest one, Dungeons and Dragons as an example. Specifcally it's latest version, Fifth Edition.

So in Dungeons and Dragons generally you're in a tolkein-esque, medieval fantasy world. To decide what you're options and motivations are your group makes Characters, kind of a resume that encompasses your personal fantasy hero (or villain) in all aspects. Their physical strength and mental ability, to the color of their hair and what clothes they wear all of it is on the Character Sheet. From there, you use your character sheet and a set of dice to determine things, do you hit your target? Do you make it across the Ravine? Do the winds of Fate turn against you sharply?

That isn't to say everything like conversation or walking across a room required a dice roll, but it added a chance of failure and one that we didn't expect. This is where you can begin to see why using TTRPGs to write fictional stories might be an interesting way to write. When the author and reader don't know what's going to happen, you can feel the suspense and excitement. So what does this type of writing look like?

I decided to try it with two different TTRPGs, Dungeons and Dragons and Vampire: The Masquerade both of which are near and dear to my heart to see how this affected my writing process, and honestly? I might do this more often!

The Tales of Ezatria is my D&D one, and is only something I can write in this (at the time of writing) early stage in my career. Utilizing it's categorization as "fanfiction" to it's fullest, I was able to use a wide variety of custom content made by the D&D community to it's fullest. There are sayians, Devil Fruits, and a whole bunch of stuff from various medias particularly of japanese origin. This has given me the ability to play with concepts I love from media in my childhood, but add them in a new original way that I think can be fun. My favorite example of this is in one of the main characters, James Elery. He is an Alchemist, from an anime called Full Metal Alchemist. In the anime they are scientists who use a magic called alchemy to change the physical make up of an element they want to manipulate. However, why would science exist in a world where magic and the Gods are readily available to explain things? This is where the class of alchemist comes into play. The alchemist uses magic to gaze into the physical makeup of the mundane world, and once understanding was achieved they began to manipulate and experiment with it. Ezatria as a world is full of things like that and it has been fun to let this small band of adventurers loose in the world.

The Last Supper uses Vampire the Masquerade, and it has been something I've worked on for many years. I was intensely inspired durring my theatre years to use the Giovanni Chronicles 1: The Last Supper for a play, but over the years the focus has shifted to a traditional written format. It focuses on a group of mortals who become Vampires in Central Europe 1444. I find the historical aspect to be most interesting here, as a big medieval history nerd it's allot of fun to latch onto the craziness of the era with a ton of wars, religious conflicts, and political strife and play around with it. A particularly fun challenge for me as a cis man is the character; Novia Recotra. Novia is a woman who sees the problems that the various patriarchies have caused and deduced that men are responsible for these problems. Her goal is to completely rebuild society from the ground up, with women in complete power. The challenge for me personally is writing dialogue that is realistic, relatable, and also gets a real message across. I think it'll be super fun to explore over the course of the story!

I think there's allot to gain from using a TTRPG to write a story, it adds a new layer of fun to the writer, an everpresenting sense of chance for the reader, and can help fight against the dreaded Writer's Block! If the descriptions above sound interesting to you, you can read tales of Ezatria here;

And The Last Supper here;

#amwriting #blog #article #ttrpg #work #I did this for a business portfolio thing #Is it any good?#Do I sound professional? XD

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midnightdevotion · 2 years ago

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Name?

Hangman X reader

Warnings: uhhh none really? swearing I guess

a/n: This is part 1- hope you like it! 2k words

It's a hot end of summer day that you finally make it to your new home in small town California. Ready for a change of scenery and a slower paced life in a place where no one knows you or what happened to you.

You feel a simmering hope in your heart when you open the door to your new home. You're home. You knew you'd have your work cut out for you. Buying an older home at the steal you did, you were ready for the repairs of a lifetime. DIYing was about to become your new biggest hobby.

Shoving the old door open you grimace, the pictures definitely didn't make it look this bad. Shaking it off you decide that before you bring any of the minimal belongings you have with you, you should probably clean up a bit.

Running to the local grocery store, you find yourself slowly meandering around. Excited to start a new life yes, excited to clean up dust that has been collecting for 10 years not so much.

Truth is, you've always been a planner. You planned to graduate in marketing and start your career right after, you planned to buy your own home just out side of Boston, you planned to get married and raise you kids in that house, you planned every aspect you could about your life. It all went out the window the same minute you did out of that beautifully decorated Boston church. The minute you decided that Aaron wasn't what you wanted, the life you had started and were working so hard for wasn't one you wanted at all.

Your poor parents thought you were loosing your mind. To be fair not many people crawled out of a basement window in a church before marrying the CEO of Hansley Corp. You were supposed to be a Hansley by now, on your honeymoon in the south of France.

While you were thinking of how you ended up here staring at different dust sprays, you hear someone clear their throat.

"You know I never thought it was hard to pick out some dusting spay but you're making it look like the biggest decision of your life and I'm concerned I've been choosing wrong my whole life now" You let out a laugh before glancing over at the observant stranger.

"Well you know those pesky dust bunnies just piss me off" He raises a brow at your response, and you take him in fully. He's very attractive, with the whole blond hair green eye panty dropping smile thing he has going for him.

However, things in your life are complicated to say the least.

"no really I just got lost in thought- I may be procrastinating. You wouldn't blame me if you saw how much dust was waiting for me in my new house. "

"Now procrastination I understand very well, Can't be worse than some of the housing i've been assigned before" You glance back over him at that.

"army?"

"navy, I'm a Naval Aviator" If that is supposed to impress you, you can't tell, but you take note of it anyway.

"then yeah I can imagine the mess those seamen make" you find yourself cracking a grin at your own joke before you finish. His deep laughter coming from beside you has you filled with relief and something else you can't quite put your finger on.

"that was good-- You're new around here then" it's not so much a question as a statement but you find yourself nodding.

"Yeah, honestly I've been in town about an hour- You know where the hardware store is?" If he's shocked by your question he doesn't show it.

"yeah it's-- here I'll write the address down" and he flips the pad of paper he's holding and writing out an address for you. Are people always so nice in Small towns?

You're so use the hustle and bustle of Boston, that most the time you even look at a stranger you get a 'fuck off'.

"Thank you-- I have my work cut out for me on this new house"

"have you fixed up houses before?"

"Not even sort of, but now is a great time to start isn't it" you thank him again before diligently putting 8 bottles of pledge in your basket.

"Well uh- I'm new to small towns but I'm pretty sure it means I'll see you around..."

"My names Jake" You smile at that because it's so fitting.

"well I will see you around Jake" and with that you cart off, and it's not until your way out of sight that he realizes, he never got your name.

----

"No guys you don't understand she was gorgeous!"

"Oh we understand just fine hangman" Phoenix laughs

"Hangmans in looooooooveeee" is roosters reply, and he can't help but groan.

"I didn't even get her name" he sighs, Rooster and Phoenix share a glance, actually surprised how much hangman seems to be hung up on this.

"Look you said she just moved here right? So you will see her again and you can casually approach and see how she is settling in." and hangman could kiss rooster for having that idea.

"You're right" he plays with the toothpick in his mouth, refocusing on their game of pool, secretly hoping that he saw you again sooner rather than later.

---

"Motherfucking piece of shit" You kick the door that decided to get stuck, it doesn't budge. Sighing you look up to the lightly clouded sky, it's nearing 7 o'clock, you are exhausted, have a list a mile long to do and you can't even get inside your new home.

Kicking it one last time for good measure you almost cry out in joy that it opens. Hefting the box you had in your arms back up, you make your way inside the dusty entryway.

You didn't have much to bring in anyway- having chosen to sale all your furniture with your old house you had nothing more than a few boxes of personal belongings. Carrying them all into the master bedroom you decide to get to work. You start with dusting off the old countertops, which thankfully still look like a beautiful granite.

It takes you two hours to dust the kitchen and the living room, sweeping and vacuuming everything multiple times. Coughing when the dust kicks up and swearing like true sailor does.

It feels like the 90th time you've emptied the damn vacuum from how much you cleaned up. It's a solid 10pm when you decide that's all you can handle for the night.

You set up the cheap air mattress you bought earlier today in the middle of the furniture-less but very clean living room. Ordering a pizza and sighing as you think about the to-do list for tomorrow.

New door.

clean the rest of the house

order a damn bed

maybe buy some dishes.

You left it at four because you weren't sure how long cleaning the house would take you, or somehow taking off and putting on a new door? Can you even buy new doors same day?

You had so many questions and so many doubts about being able to do this, but when you think of the alternative- going back home to Boston, you decide you can do anything.

You get your pizza and eat in on your air mattress, watching some show on your phone like some sad frat boy. The ache in your back and tiredness behind your eyes is quick to catch up with you, lulling you into a sleep that despite being on an air mattress is pretty peaceful.

----

You awake to the sound of your door being knocked on. It startles you, you didn't know anyone in town why would someone be knocking at... 9:37 am? Groggily you slowly make you way to your door and fight it open. You don't expect to see a woman and her daughter staring at you.

"Hi! I'm Penny and this is Amelia, we live right next door- we've been waiting for a neighbor for years and we just wanted to welcome you" She thrusts a plate of cookies at you and you take it automatically.

"I um- wow that is so nice... I'm y/n it's definitely nice to meet you-- sorry for the groggy and unkempt look it's not how I usually answer doors" you almost grimace when you think how Aaron would've reacted to you opening the door like this.

"No worries- we woke you up, sorry for that by the way. We will get out of your hair but If you ever need a drink come down to the hard deck and it's on me for waking you!" you bid them a goodbye and shut the pain in the ass door. Shocked at the cookies in your hands and the politeness around town, but you like it, and it's definitely something you could get use to.

Placing the cookies on your counter you messily shove one in your mouth before heading up the stairs. You make quick work of dusting and vacuuming the master bedroom before you head into the shower.

You let the warm water slide over you and relax your sore muscles. Despite what one might think, climbing out of a church window- panic packing and driving 4 days to the other side of the country and then cleaning up an unholy amount of dust made you sorer than you could've thought. When you feel you've cleaned off any and all remnants of dust on your skin you climb out.

Quickly getting dressed and ready, you check your phone to see 42 missed calls from aaron and several from your friends and family. Deciding it wasn't going to be todays problem you lock it again and make your way down the stairs.

Finding jakes note for the hardware store you grin a little at his messy handwriting, it suits him. Giving the stubborn door a glare as you make your way out of the house.

Sighing as you stare at doors in the hardware store you here a small chuckle.

"we've got to stop meeting like this" you turn to see none other than Jake, who looks like he's working on a project of his own. His cart full of varying tools.

"if I didn't know better all those tools look like you might be ready to start serial killing" He laughs.

"No no, just helping my buddy fix his back porch- what did these poor doors do to you?"

"Nothing-yet. I just don't know which one I like better"

"I'd go with this one personally, it's strong and secure for safety and you could paint it any color once your done remodeling"

"hmmm that's a good point" you grin at him.

"thanks for being my small town savior once again" He gives you a cheeky smile right back.

"it's what I'm here for" you detect a small twang to his voice and decide to ask him another time about where he is from.

"Hangman!" his head moves to that, the shout coming from a couple aisles down.

"well I guess I should get back to the pain in the ass"

"Hangman?" you question before he makes his escape.

"Oh yeah it's my callsign- all pilots have one and it basically becomes our names after that."

"Oh well good to know, have fun Jake" be wishes you fun with the door picking process too- a strange sense of butterflies filling him as he makes his way to the stubborn mustached man, you still called him Jake.

and god dammit he forgot to ask your name again.

---

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#top gun #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman #hangman top gun #Jake seresin #hangman x reader #Jake seresin x reader #Jake hangman seresin

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danihow · 3 years ago

Text

Stupid presentation

Non Idol!Yang Jeongin (I.N) x Fem!Reader Stray Kids

Word Count: 4.96k

Summary: You did a great job ignoring those who disliked you, you thought you were great at it, specially woth Jeongin, that until college work forces you to work together.

Warnings: College AU, fluff, non idol AU, a bit of crack, big ass misundesrtanding, language, mentions of being wasted at a party, mentions of alcohol, kinda enemies to friends.

A/N: This actually took me way too much more than I expected it to take and I kinda want to write more of it.

Tuesday, 1:34 p.m.

You couldn't fucking believe it.

Of all the fucking people in the goddamn classroom you had to pull out the name of the only one who didn't stand you.

Yang Fucking Jeongin.

At the beginning of the semester you had chosen this class as the obligatory extra class you were supposed to take this year, having postponed it last semester for the will of your mental health after how challenging it all had been in your life.

Still, you never thought to meet in this particular class, which was named officially Humanism in War, your last semester's classmate from your career-related subject who you could swear to any power above couldn't stand you after being paired up for a project not only once but TWICE and he, both times, asked the teacher to switch the two of you.

You never understood what you had done to him to apparently abhor you like that, but it wasn't like you were in the need to ask him when he held that intimidating aura every time he was around you, knowing for sure your question wasn't going to be answered, at least not in a friendly way.

Now, until this specific moment in the timeline you both habited, you thought, no, you knew you had done a great job avoiding any interaction between the both of you, not daring to look at him, picking literally anyone else when you had to choose work partners (even if at the end you ended up doing all of it alone), waiting until he went out of the classroom just not to bump into him, basically all you could do to not bother him, you did.

At least before now, right when your professor told all of you the partners for the last presentation were going to be picked randomly by the left side of the classroom via papers, to what he grabbed a bowl full of the names of those sat at the other side of the class room, the man trying his best to make his students interact more than they have been and, much to your dismay, you and Jeongin were sat on total opposites of the class, you on the left and him on the right, meaning there was a 1/22 chance to pick him, it was less than 5% of probability but to you it was still 5 too many.

When the professor stood at your side, leaning the bowl to you still with a bunch of papers in it you felt your stomach twirl nervously and kind of scared, no one had gotten Jeongin yet and you honestly didn't want to spend your time with someone with such an attitude toward your mere existence, so, after a flash prayer to anyone that could hear you from above your hand got in the bowl, picking one of the neatly folded papers and taking it out.

"Don't open it yet." Your professor said, moving on to the student who sat behind you.

A couple of minutes after you were all signaled to open up the papers and look at the name written on them. Your fingers slowly taking the corners of the red piece and unfolding it, your eyebrows furrowing when your eyes read "Yang Jeongin" written in cursive.

"And remember, I don't do changes." Professor Changmin said, placing the bowl in his desk and looking at the rest of the class, his free hand on his hip.

Fuck.

There it went all your effort to avoid the guy, who looked around in search of someone making eye contact with him, confused to find no one. Just before turning his attention back to the board, where the teacher had started scribbling the basic rules and point to follow for the work.

Tuesday, 1:53 p.m.

"Now you can pack up, see you on Thursday." The deep voice of the professor echoed through the silent classroom, that quickly filled with the sound of quiet chattering and the ruffling of papers and backpacks.

"Who did you get?" Heeseung asked, his eyes looking over your shoulder at your paper with curiosity, a snort almost leaving him at the name he read. "Dude, I'm so sorry for you, but at least you know he will do his part of the job, unlike all your other partners."

Heeseung was a tall guy you befriended on your calculus class last semester and who decided to get in this class with you because it was the last one you could share before your careers tore your paths apart, him swearing to not let that tear the friendship the two of you built apart. He knew about this weird thing Jeongin had going on with you ever since he saw it blossom every time he picked you up your classes six months prior.

"Shut up Hee." You said, playfully hitting him in the arm as you put your tablet away in your bag.

"Rude~" He sing-songed, putting his computer away.

"Who do you got?" You asked back, putting all your pens back in the pencil case.

"Ryujin." He said, his head moving a bit to were the girl sat, talking to her friend, who you recalled to be called Yuna.

"She's nice, she was in my art class too." You said, remembering a couple of time you two crossed words.

"We'll see how she's in partner works." He said, standing up once the Professor dismissed all of you. "See you around Y/N."

"Where are you heading to?"

"I told a friend of mine I'd help him with his graduation essay." He smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"A'right, see you around Hee."

Standing up you noticed Jeongin standing awkwardly in his desk, still confused, sighing you realized this was probably the moment you had to speak up, swallowing you nerves and giving slow dreadful steps towards him. "Hi..." You muttered, trying your best trying to sound confident, his piercing gaze falling on you, an eyebrow raised. "I guess we are going to be working together." You said, showing him the paper with his name cautiously, he himself taking it to check if it is his name, and it was.

A small frown on his lips he nodded. "Okay." He said, giving you the paper back. "Message me to decide on our parts." And with that, he just walked out.

How in hell would you message him? You didn't have his number.

Wednesday, 11:14 a.m.

What kind of person expects you to message them without a number?

You had asked now around 10 different people from you career for Jenin’s number, some of them who you'd seen talking to him a couple of times.

It wasn't until after walking around almost all of campus trying to spot more of the guys you've seen Jeongin walk around with, which, was a tiring and time wasting task, you finally got a number form this guy named Hyunjin, who you've seen too around Heeseung a couple of times.

"What kind of jackass kid am I raising?" He asks in a whisper to himself with a frown on his face as he wrote your number down on his phone to send you his contact and to send Jeongin yours. "I'm sorry about him, he's just dumb most of the time." He said, a ding on your phone as his message got in with a contact named 'dumb kid'. "Ignore the name, it just proves my point further on, now I have to head to class, tho it was nice meeting you Y/N."

And just like that he left, not without giving you a small wave accompanied by a friendly smile, quickly getting in the art faculty building.

Maybe you should message Jeongin first, the faster you got into working the faster you'd get out of it.

Next Thursday, 1:04 p.m.

After a long walk, getting a couple of turns wrong and getting lost in this part of the city you finally reach your destiny.

Currently standing in front of Jeongin's apparent apartment door, swaying back and forth over your heels and the ball of your feet, doubting if you should knock on the door or run away and disconnect from life, but the stupid presentation was due on Monday and the both of you were still missing a bunch of details, that being the reason why he called you to meet up in his apartment.

Why actually to his apartment? You didn't know, you were both managing quite well to do it separately without any issue and with no need to stablish an actual conversation, yeah, it was challenging but nothing impossible.

Finally, gathering up all the courage you knocked the door with your knuckles, regret immediately washing over you as you rather quickly heard footsteps on the other side of the door, right before being greeted by Jeongin himself, his hair a bit messy and curlier, unstyled, falling right above his glasses as he looked at you, face blank.

"Hi, come in." He said with no emotion in his voice, stepping aside and letting you pass, feeling now a bit overdressed with your nice shirt, done hair, jeans and clean shoes while he stood there, a pair of slippers for you on his hand while wearing a white shirt over some joggers and in his plain blue slippers. "Here, you can leave your shoes right there." He pointed to the space besides his shoes, that were neatly placed aside against the wall.

"Thank you." Was all you could say before sitting on the little stool he had, taking your shoes off and putting the pair of slippers he leaned you on.

"Now..." He started, slowly walking over to the living room, where you saw his computer set up on the table along with some papers, sticky notes and highlighters. " ...uh, I guess we should start." He said coldly, his gaze still holding that cold and sharp edge every time he spared a glance at you, who slowly became smaller and smaller over his presence. But still, it seemed that you didn't took notice of the way his edges softened a bit and his presence doubted, his facade stumbling for a few seconds.

"Mhm, let's start with whatever you want." You said, Jeongin noticing immediately how you looked everywhere but him, how you fidgeted with your rings and the way you ever so slightly moved your right foot to its side, you weren't nervous, he has seen you nervous before and this wasn't it, but he couldn't either pinpoint what the hell it could be so he just let it pass, it wasn't like you cared enough about him for it to be a topic.

Thursday, 1:33 p.m.

The first while was spent mostly by him talking about the presentation and how it should go, you just nodding along, mostly zoned out in your own thoughts than paying actual attention.

You were sat across Yang Jeongin in his living room, and somehow the room hadn't imploded the way Heeseung had teased you it would.

"Y/N!" Jeongin said rather loudly, his hand reaching out to shake your shoulder in an attempt to bring you back to reality. "Can you stop just nodding to everything I say and actually give me your opinion? This is not only my work; you know?" He said a bit harshly, kind of tired of the way you just agreed with him, he could tell you that the sky was fucking orange and you'd agree. "Why are you acting like this anyway? I thought you had a bit more of personality in you."

"Sorry." You answered rather quickly, averting his gaze, earning a sigh from him.

"Don't be sorry just- give me your opinion and stop thinking other stuff, that way we'll get done with all of this faster." He said, his voice lowering back to its normal volume, and slowly getting his body back in its place in the floor. "You need a break? I think I still have some snacks on the kitchen..." He suggested, his eyes unsure about whether he should.

Was he being nice? Like actually nice? To you?

"Uh- yeah sure, if it’s not a bother I wouldn't mind a break."

"It isn’t; you rather want something salty or something sweet?" He asked, getting up from his place, his back cracking a bit as he did so.

"I'd prefer something salty, thanks." You said, a small smile painted across your face as your eyes followed how he walked away, giving you a second to breathe and recompose yourself.

What the fuck dude? You though, your mind scolding you for how were acting so unsure, just giving him more reasons to not like you, but it wasn't like you cared, right?

Right?

Trying to calm your nerves your let your eyes dance around the boy's apartment, actually neater than you initially thought it would be, probably comparing it to your other male friends' houses.

The way he had it all organized and clean made you feel at ease, the decoration being actually really nice to look at with the colorful accents between all the white, plants here and there and a bunch of peculiar items in random furniture, as the red cassette player on a shelf, or the bunch of mini instruments all aligned on top of the sofa's back rest.

Just like that, scanning the room your eyes landed on the window, noting the way his apartment had a really nice view of the main street in front of it, not tall enough to see all the rooftops but tall enough to appreciate the architecture of the buildings nearby without disrupting the view of the sky, which right now was tinted in different tones of gray, covered in a blanket of heavy dark clouds that brought a menace of a storm, your mind remembering how your umbrella was left back at your place, resting on your room's doorknob.

"It turned really dark really quickly huh." A voice muttered from behind you, Jeongin coming back with a bowl of snacks on his hand and two bottles of some drink on the other, lending one to you as he placed the bowl in between you two. All the calmness you had collected escaping through the crack between your fingers unexpectedly, your muscles stiffing a bit as you took the bottle from his grasp and putting it aside, his eyes following your movements carefully. It was like you felt scared by him, almost as if he was dangerous, and he didn't like that.

"Yes." You nodded, eyes glued to the papers in front of you.

"So... you prefer taking on the first half or the second?" He asked rather awkwardly again, his gaze dancing through the mess of papers before finally settling on you, searching for your own eyes. "Y/N?"

"Oh, oh right, um... I don't know actually, you choose."

"I've already chosen half of all the work, you choose something too." He muttered, his attention focused on the way your eyes looked at all the highlighted papers, mind wondering why were you so weird towards him now. "Hey, I know you don't like me but I think we should make it work at least until we present, Y/N. I actively don't think it is that hard to answer such a simple question."

A donkey talking about ears. You thought before actually processing his words. "I'm the one who doesn’t like you?" You couldn't help but ask, how dare he say such a thing if he is the one that caused all of this I-avoid-you-and-you-avoid-me relationship between you.

"What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed, concerned eyes falling on yours that finally looked up to him. "I think it’s rather obvious."

"If one of us were to hate the other let me tell you it is definitely you."

"What? I don't hate you Y/N." He spoke, his voice genuinely concerned about where you got that information, false information, by the way.

"Oh you don't? Then why the heck was you so rude to me last semester and act so intimidating around me all the goddamn time? Huh? And not to mention all the avoiding." You said back, your eyes now unable to leave his, reading through his emotions just as he did with yours, finding a new found confidence in you, a confidence that suited you.

"I- You thought I disliked you because I acted intimidating?" His voice made a really intended emphasis on the last word.

"Well yes, what else would you expect me to think from that? And those two times you switched partners."

"I... you are right but, I don’t hate you Y/N, I thought you did."

The confusion each of you felt was beyond words, he was now trying to explain his behavior and all you were trying to do was to comprehend what the hell he was referring to, neither of you liking were the other was going.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you acted so vain and condescending around me on our first semester of the career I thought you hated me so I just acted the same way with you."

"Our first sem- When did we even talked during then?"

"Your friend was dating mine, remember? We met on that party your friend group invited mine." He said, explaining it all as if it was obvious. Silent settling between you two as the gears on your mind worked, unable to find his face in your memories, but it wasn't like you had a lot of memories from that night either.

"You were there?" Was all you could ask, pointing at him with the highlighter in your hand.

"Well duh, of course I was, I was Changbin's roommate during that time and all. I was dragged there." He said, his body leaning back to rest against the sofa behind him, an arm draped over it as you two talked, what an interesting turn of events.

"We met?" "You ask once again, apparently all you could do since all he was saying was not in your mind, at all.

"You don't remember?" Every question you asked, the more he thought you joked, but your face told the total opposite.

"No I- I don't remember seeing you there., along with a bunch of other things."

"I was the one that... you know what? It doesn't matter. Let's-"

"No, no, you cannot leave the topic now Yang Jeongin, what did I did that I was condescend and vain about?"

"You truly don't remember," He deadpanned, his brows almost becoming one in the middle of his forehead, his eyes wide upon you as he scanned your face for any gesture that meant it all as a joke.

"I ended that party kinda badly, in case you apparently didn’t noticed."

"No, I noticed. believe me, I took you home, Y/N."

"You- what?"

"You were so wasted after a couple of drinks your friends asked me to take you home." He started explaining. "You weren't able to even walk in a straight line and it didn't felt right to leave you on an uber alone so I went with you."

"You talked a lot that night, about a lot of things, we actually had fun, I think." He kept on talking, watching as your face morphed into an even more confused expression. "I left you in your apartment, you threw up on the bathroom a bit and then you flopped in your bed, after that I just left."

"I... I have no memory of that, I remember the hang over but not much of the party, I just assumed my friend and Changbin had dropped me at home, no one told me it was you."

"Well that explains why you ignored me after that." He mutters, your voice held so much doubt and at the same time so much sincerity he couldn't help but believe you. "I went to say hi to you the next day and you just flew by me, I believed you didn't like me after your drunk episode, I guess I did get kinda resented by that so I acted cold but I blamed you."

"No I swear I, I had no idea, if I had remembered I wouldn't have ignored you, it actually did throw me off the way you suddenly started acting colder when I thought we were strangers."

Now you felt bad, both of you felt bad, giving each other the cold shoulder for now almost a year because of nothing.

"Well, we weren't, at least in my head." He said, hand flying back to rub his neck, his gaze looking at a side, yours becoming too much for a moment.

"I now get that." You answered, nodding as silence settled in, again. "I guess now you switched partners because you thought I didn0t liked you."

"Yeah, and I guess you felt bad..."

"Yeah..." Suddenly, in the silence between your talking, droplets of water started falling against the window. "Sorry I didn't remembered you."

"Is not on you, I'm sorry I never talked it out with you."

"No one told me, don't worry about it now." And once again, both of your heads nodding to each other, slowly meeting each other gazes again, but now each holding a less hostile aura, trying to amend things. "So... it was just a big misunderstanding?" You asked, your voice tinier.

"Yeah... yeah I guess so."

"And, we're good now?"

"If you say we're good then we're good." He said, his facial expression genuine as he shrugged at your words.

"Alright."

"Okay."

"Okay..." Slowly, your eyes fell to the bottle in your hands, completely forgetting you had it until it started wetting your clothing. "Tea?" You asked, a little bit smilier as you stared at the label in the bottle, having spot this brand in the supermarket halls couple of times.

"Yeah I- uh, didn't knew if you wanted anything to drink so I brought one in case you liked it, if not I can go for a bottle of water or just leave it there." He rapidly sad, his mouth pressed on a resigned line as he regretted not going to buy more stuff in the morning, the thought of you not liking tea completely slipping his mind.

"Don't worry, I'll try it." You reassured, opening the bottle up and taking a small sip.

To Jeongin it was amusing the way your eyes spoke when you weren't avoiding his own, immediately lighting up after tasting the beverage, a glint of happiness behind them, telling him more than any other part of your face, making him smile a little bit, his mind recalling how they did the same that night a bunch of months ago. "You like it?"

"I love it, it's really good." You replied, taking another little sip, before realizing how far you two were from the work now but also not daring the break the cozy air surrounding your now cleared up minds. "We should keep on working."

"Yeah, yeah sure." He said, remembering all the mess on the coffee table, taking the bunch of papers in his hands and highlighting the most important parts for you to say as you got back to highlighting his before getting into actually finishing the PowerPoint. "Do you mind if I put on some music?" He asked, looking at you through his glasses, an index finger coming up to relocate them on the bridge of his nose.

"I don't, go ahead." You nodded, also don't minding the now comfortable silence between you, apparently talking things out really made a difference in people.

Around an hour later and a half, a bowl of chips and one third into a Spotify playlist you two are just giving the finishing touches to all of it just as you put the pen aside, your eyes scanning through the last bit of the information on the paper as Jeongin compared all you had done to the specified points your professor said to be evaluating.

"I think we are done." You whispered, putting the piece of scribbled paper at the end of the pile, glancing around to the mess you two had slowly created around the greenish carpet, rain falling heavily against the window of the apartment and a lighting illuminating the room just as the following thunder startled the two of you.

"Yeah, yeah I think we are." He said, rechecking that all of it was done and saved. "So..."

"I should probably get going back to my place." Your voice raised a bit, trying to talk over the increasing rain against the glass of the window, your hand picking up all the stuff spread on the floor.

"You got a car now?" He asked, doing the same as you.

"No, no, I... I was planning to walk over to my building."

"It’s in moments like this I question if you are talking seriously to me, Y/N." He said, taking his glasses off to clean them with his shirt while trying to look at you directly in your eyes, your confused face urging him to elaborate. "You planned on walking back with all that rain? Do you want to get hit by a lighting or something?"

"I just-"

"Stay a bit until it turns it down a bit, at least until there is no more lightings." He offered, putting the book over the pile of paper on his coffee table before standing up to put all of it on the kitchen isle, away from the living room. "Unless you have somewhere else to be." He says, looking over his shoulder back at you.

"I don't." You finally say, thinking how staying couldn’t mean any harm now that you two were good.

"What do you want to do meanwhile? Watch a movie or something?"

"Whatever you want, I don't care." You shrug, getting up after being sat on the carpet for way too long now, whining a bit while stretching up, your muscles sore and your legs a bit numb, the clock on the wall ticking a bit over 3 p.m. "You got any movies?"

"Uh. we can just zap a bit and see if we find anything on the TV." He says, coming back with a refilled bowl of chips.

"Sounds good enough to me." You say, stretching your arms over your head to get the soreness away. "Where is the bathroom?"

Wednesday, 3:54 p.m.

If a week prior to today someone had told you you would be sat peacefully on a rainy afternoon with Jeongin's arm draped over the back of the sofa you are both are comfortably seating on and not in the middle of world war iii, you would have ushered them away with a smack in the back of their head.

But now, in this very moment it was a reality. You and Jeongin seating besides each other half way into Mission Impossible after finding it just starting on a random TV channel. "Jeongin?" You asked, head turning slightly towards him to look him in the face.

"Hm?" He hummed back, glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

"By any chance do you have a spare blanket or hoodie?" I'm kinda freezing right now."

"Sure, I think I have a blanket somewhere in my room, give me a sec." He said, the sofa shifting as his weight was being lifted off of it, his figure disappearing down the hall.

During the last hour you had figured Jeongin to be a really nice guy, even funny to be around, you now guessing you were just damned to see the worst of it by the dumb misunderstanding you two had around. His eyes were now quite cute to stare at, especially the way the crinkled into crescent moons when smiling or laughing, his bubbly laugh a lot better than the silence you use to hear from him, and his figure not intimidating at all.

"Here you go." He said, his hand lending you both a hoodie and a blanket, choosing both against the cold air that the rain brought into the apartment, the heaters not doing much in the middle of what was supposed to be spring. "Are you really that cold?"

"Well, yeah, I don't know how you stand there just like that." You say, scanning his bare feet and his short sleeved shirt, that didn’t seem to be thick. "You are not cold at all?" You now asked, passing your head through the oversized light blue hoodie and placing the blanket over the both of your legs.

"No, I guess I'm kinda used to it." He answers, taking the blanket off his legs, uncovering your own a bit.

"Kinda, meaning that you still feel cold." You state, teasing him as you put the fluffy blanket over him again, making him look at you with a fake face of being done.

"Whatever floats your boat." He surrenders putting both hands up in the air, just as he makes himself comfy besides you.

"You never told me what I did on the party tho..." You said after a while.

"Huh?"

"You know, acting both vain and condescending..."

"Its on the past now Y/N, you were drunk." He answer, disregarding your question. "Either way, how even you got that drunk? You didn't drank that much."

"I guess we'll never know." You shrug, grabbing some chips from the bowl on your lap. "Thank you for taking care of me." You mutter, his ears still picking up on it and smiling.

"Any time."

Well, maybe, the stupid presentation wasn't so bad after all, both of you now thankful you picked the paper with Yang Jeongin scribbled on it.

This is a work of fiction, people mentioned or involved are actual human beings and none of this work is based on actual facts over the celebrities mentioned nor is intented to portray them in a realistic way.

Any problem detected on the information given may be comunicated to me via DM.

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