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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

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Grandma Knows Best

Masterlist

Summary: Three months and you were still on edge ready to run at a moments notice and Clark is beside himself with worry, it was time Martha nipped this in the but once and for all. Grandma always knows best.

Warning: Angst, Swearing, Past Trauma, Panic attacks

A/N: so this one is very angsty the next chapter should be happier and a little humor but I wanted to have this final 'melt down' I hope you enjoy it xxx

Taglist: @sofiebstar @thefangirlsblog @gooseyhouse @charliestufff @harrysthiccthighss @loserrlauraa @cheeseman

The potting shed was old and rickety, Clark and Konner were going to fix it up over the weekend well fix it up; they were going to knock out all the panels and put perspex glass over it making a humongous diy green house, they were going to home depo to order the glass tomorrow, but for now it was perfect shelter for the older plants. Around six weeks ago Martha had dragged you in here to plant your first ever plants. It had been fun, poking tiny holes and planting the seeds you were out here everyday watching,waiting for a shoot! But after a week you had gotten bored and stopped looking until she had told you of the first few leaves of spinach had popped through...It seemed within days of that all your plants had sprouted, none had died and to say you were proud was an understatement. You loved watching them grow something about caring for the fragile plants watering and feeding them pellets and tending them was soothing in a way. Whenever you got to overwhelmed you'd come out to the shed and take care of them, it was a place you could escape all...Except grandma. Martha had all but exiled the boys when she noticed Clark pestering you inside. she could see that gardening was becoming a solace for you, something you did without a care and she was pleased. You moved slowly behind Martha as she showed you how to dead head some of the plants and curb the tomato's so that you got less leaves and more fruit. You watched fascinated as she made quick work of the tall tomato plants plucking the new budding stems that would only produce leaves that would shade the fruit so it couldn't ripen. She turned looking to you concerned today she planned to air out a few things with you it was high time you had a little heart to heart.Three months. Three long months and still you held back Martha was worried, you hadn't settled, well you had but you were still skittish ready to run at a moments notice. They hoped you'd be more relaxed but it would seem you were the opposite more guarded and secretive and not once had you referred to them as family. It saddened her, konner had let slip that you were frightened of hurting someone...Namely her. But the woman trusted you. Clark was beside himself he didn't understand what he needed to do he was a father...Your father and he hadn't a fucking clue! Martha had decided it was time to nip these silly fears in the butt herself something tells her you needed a female touch. Clark had come to her a few days ago in floods of tears he had tried to take you shopping for clothes and you'd refused so then he offered to get a meal and when you turned that down it was coffee even though he didn't even let you drink it...He just wanted some one on one time with you he had been so excited for you to come home, he wanted a daughter...But you didn't seem to want a dad? He couldn't understand it he was lost and confused he desperately wanted you to open up to him, wanted to wrap you up in his arms and fight off all your doubts but...He didn't want to rush things, Bruce had called him out for being overbaring at first and said things take time but still he was impatient. What if you thought he didn't care because he was now giving you space? He hated the idea of you fearing being abandoned and alone again. You seemed happy on the face of it but when no one was looking your face was blank a mask hiding everything below. The longer you stayed here the more he could see you pull back you were fighting it, fighting being safe secure and happy. He couldnt get through to help neither could konner he had been trying to hard and you'd shut yourself off from him, Clark didn't want that to happen with him. It crushed him knowing you were still frightened and had decided that it would be an idea to just stay at the farm. He wanted to give you stability but he wanted you to come to him to open up and talk or or at least treat him like a father even if you didn't call him dad.

Martha moved slowly around you discreetly positioning herself between you and the door. She knew you'd try to avoid this and if you had the chance you'd run off and hide and that was not happening...Not again last time you'd been gone for a whole twenty-four hours the Clark had found you sleeping at a bus stop at two in the morning scaring the daylights out of everyone. She turned to face you a small smile was on your face as you prodded the leaves on your prized cucumber plant the first cucumbers just starting to form. "You know your dad was thinking of helping you design your room... I got a few catalogues of wallpaper and stuff...Ideas for designs from the home depot" You looked up at her blinking with a soft smile then moved slowly stepping up beside her placing your hands on the wooden Table in front of you. "He shouldn't...No point we're moving to the city again so...Yeah" Martha tilted her head letting out a breath placing the ant powder over your the cucumber plant to keep away the earwigs. "Well that was the plan...But your dad thinks it might be best to keep you and konner away from it... So your all staying here its not like he has to worry about getting to work~" she gave a sly smile and nudged you softly then frowned at your sour expression. "I didn't realize" Martha eyed you cautiously and stopped tending to the veg and turned. Then dipped down to your level you met her eyes for a second. What she saw broke her heart you were hurting and unsure still so lost. "Well now you do...So tell me what do you think you'll do to your room...I'm sure it won't be pink!" You took another deep breath poking a finger in the soil drawing a line in it. And shrugged. Its not something you thought about kids in the system didn't decorate, everything is temporary. "Don't know....Shouldn't bother...Only two years" Martha turned a placed a hand on he hip unimpressed. But you couldn't help feel she already knew that'd be your answer. "Now what the hell makes you say that? You think were gonna what? Kick you out at eighteen? Honey no that’s all behind you now...I mean christ Clarks still here and he's what thirty seven? Thirty eight" You flicked your gaze to her then back down to the spinach shoots in front of you moving the spritz them with a mix of water and dish soap helping keep away bugs. You arched over to the small container that held a mix of rock salt and crushed egg shells it helped keep away the slugs and snails. "I...Its hard I forgot what its meant to be like...In the system you just get thrown out...Go to the streets....Always weed to run or something or you can go to the sewers" Martha frowned at that "So that was your plan? You were going to be a drug runner? Or go Live in the sewers?" She asked none to impressed you felt scolded and skittish under her gaze and you didn't even see it. A mothers; in this case grandmother's disapproving gaze was felt. "I...I was a drug runner on and off...Then well I made a delivery to the Joker...He was...Frightening and I called it quits after that...Didn't want to be near the big leagues...Big people let their little people die" Martha crossed her arms this was new you never really spoke about how you survived normally brushed them off. "You ever try these drugs?" The question was meant to be casual but didn't quite hit the mark, you shook your head truthfully. "Couldn't risk it...If I reacted bad I could of...Well killed people so it just didn't seem like a good idea" she eyed you carefully and nodded she believed you. "Right well don't let you dad find out... But seriously you should think about what you want to do with your room everyone needs their own personal space" you heaved a deep breath smoothing out the layer of eggshells on the dirt covering the pot. Martha said dusting her hands off leaning on hand on her hip the other palm was flat on the table next to you.

"Okay right out with it...Come on whats going on in that mind of yours?" Her voice wasn't irritated she seemed more worried, wanting to know what was going on so she could fix it rather than to berate you for it. You swallowed moving our arms shrugging at her with a heavy sigh. "Just...I- it only been a few months not that long- things are going well now...But they might not be-I'm still dangerous my power can react at anything at anytime-" you were cut off by a clump of moist dirt hitting your cheek splatting across your lips making you spit and retch. Ew. You growled looking at her with a scowl. "Hey-what the fuck?-ugh ew no stop it!" Martha scoffed and flicked another small clump of mud at your face making you splutter spitting out the small flecks of dirt in your mouth. You looked up appalled at her wiping your tongue and she just hummed chuckling nodding a playful smile. "Yes I see it has incredible reflexes, nothing gets passed it~" you glared at her as she chuckled louder then flashed your eyes playfully and pulled at the water in the watering can urging it up the spout sending a large slosh of water over her croc covered feet she jumped back giggling lightly but stepped back to the table moving the pots back turning around leaning back on the table patting it. "Up you go darling time for a little chit chat" you frowned Your laughter dieing...This was it, they'd grown bored of you...You bit your lip preparing for the inevitable still wiping your face wanting the dirt off but obeyed sitting on the table looking down. She didn't let you for long stepping in front of you tilting your face up and pushed away a few locks of hair. "You always hide behind these curls...I wish you'd pull them out of your face and let me see my beautiful little granddaughter..." Martha spotted the eye roll and pinched you chin making you look at her. "I'm not your grand-" she frowned moving the hair to stay behind your ears then smiled. "Hush....Ah and there it is..." you frowned not following her trying to avoid her all seeing gaze "There’s what?" You bit out still expecting to be told to pack up and leave. These types of talks are never good, your being shipped off. Back to the tower not that you'd stay fuck them you never needed them. You don’t need anyone! "The doubt of a scared little girl, you hide it or you try to...But its there your eyes are a window we all see it...You think your poker face is perfect but...You Y/n L/n Kent are an open book...Clark sees it to he wants to help he loves you, I love you and so does konner" You furrowed you brows and tried shaking your head wanting to look anywhere other than her. You couldn't look her in the eye with whats coming, they stutter when you do makes it harder for them to be rid of you. "I-I don’t know what- Look I don’t need an excuse just say what you need to say!" she shook her head tutting and continued butting in before you could talk yourself into a panic. "Don’t give me that crap...You still think we're just gonna dump you off somewhere eventually...Well you better think again missy...You are my granddaughter, Clarks daughter and Konners sister and that is the end of it we love you! And nothing is going to change that y/n..." "W-What? Your...your not getting rid of me? But that’s what they do...When they want to talk" you asked heart clenching but Martha gasp seeing you trying to bottle up your devastation and anger. She turned cupping both sides of your face shaking her head looking mortified you'd think such a thing. It was then she truly saw just how much damage was there. You thought you were disposable and could be thrown away at anypoint. "No! No no of course not...Oh god sweety no listen I just-This is exactly why we need to talk my love...We are never ever abandoning you...My god your ours! And you are never going anywhere! We love you but we...We don't really know what you need you never ask for anything love...But your here and that's it you belong here with us" you blinked rapidly you couldn't help but buy it, believe maybe foolishly that this time it was the real deal. You whimpered trying to save face wiping away the tears before they shed. "B-but my power-" you started to argue but was quickly shushed as she held a finger to your lips and rolled her eyes with a light hearty chuckle. "Makes you no more dangerous then Clark or Konner now enough...I don't care, and I don't want to hear it anymore...You hear me? You are not going to attack me at all we all know that by now...Your breaking your fathers heart, he knows you still feel unsafe here and your just waiting to be abandoned again and its not happening...Now this afternoon you and your dad are gonna sit down and look at some ideas for you room which you are both going to redecorate together over the weekend. A few days bonding with him will do the world of good and might make you finally accept that you are going no where" you looked down with a deep sigh and picked at the loose splinters of wood on the table pulling thin strands of the wood.

"He loves you, you silly girl we all do...I know you still have your original bag packed stuffed between the desk and wall, it's how we found you last time" you snapped your head up to her what? Your bag gave you away? She shrugged to you with a cheeky grin. "Oh what you think that phone's been magically charging itself for three months? I've been charging it and your uncle Bruce may have tracked it for us to find you quicker...Having your dad flying all over smallville in the state he was when you went missing wouldn't have been very subtle...He'd have ripped the place to shreds and terrified the locals" you blinked at her. He was actually worried? You thought it'd been an act. you flushed heart tingling and warming when the thought of someone caring enough about you to worry when you vanished. "I hope that soon you will unpack it...Clark is...He is at a loss he wants to get to know you but doesn't want to push he is frightened he would chase you off...Just please talk...Whatever it is we can help we just want you to be happy and safe" you looked down sadly unsure how to express yourself. The Kents had been brilliant but you just...Something made it hard for you to let go of the past. Your Mum and Dad the ones you couldn't save who died whilst screaming...They had called out for you! for you to save them but you couldn't you were weak...Defenseless even with this gift you couldn't protect them...A life time of guilt a life time of being alone, telling yourself that you can't lose people if you don't have them around you. How could you explain that? how did you explain it wasn't what you'd do necessarily it was also what if you couldn't help? couldn't save them? tears welled in your eyes at the thoughts and you sighed shuddering a breath. Martha moved closer standing between your knees and hugged you pulling you to her shoulder holding you tight rubbing your back hushing you and suddenly for the first time you cried. You sobbed gut wrenching cries into her. Until then the only other person to hold you had been Clark and that had been to prove a point. You moved trying to pull back apologizing for snotting all over her but she was having none of it she held tighter petting your hair softly kissing your head. "Hey?...Its okay...I got you baby we got you...You don't have to be frightened anymore...Or alone we are here for you...We are my love I promise" you shook your head still weeping into her the flood gates opened and you let loose. Martha was happy and gutted, she knew you needed to get this out but at the same time it was difficult to hear you shatter like this. A normally stoic sarcastic unshakeable and frankly stressed out teen finally cracking masks dropping and finally opening up, showing the true terrified little girl she really was. "But its bad!...I shouldn't-youll just!? and like the rest I cant-I wont!!" You fought to maintain an even voice but failed miserably spitting out the words rushing them with broken sobs. Martha was quick to ask she needed to know whats going on, needed to reassure you to fix the issues if she could. "Whats bad pumpkin? What's wrong sweety?" Her voice was calm a gentle lull that aimed to sooth you and draw the truth from you. "...M-My parents they-they died!...I tri-ed they y-yelled for help-to me THEY CALLED OUT TO ME! and I didn't...I couldn't and on the beach...It was my fault! mine...If I'd held on they could have made it!! and-and now with you guys! I wont be able to...I can't.? Youll die! And itll be my fault! Its always my fault...And then its- I don't want to replace them-my real parents" You shook your head no. you tried pulling back again this time Martha let you and moved holding either side of your face as fat tears still streamed down your face. You cried harder coughing and hyperventilating choking on your own sobs panicked looking for a way out. She held steady holding both hands firmly on your face well aware of the earth beneath her feet moving sifting like sand but she ignored it, her grandbaby needed her and so she began talking you through the attack.

"shh shh calm yourself down...Thats it its okay...Your alright I've got you...I've got you baby... Good girl see thats it a little more...Deeper breaths in then out...Good" Martha held her breath as you coughed a few more times your breathing was fast but you were calmer your tears still flowing freely but it was a soft quiet crying as opposed to the borderline hysterical sobs moments ago. That was it the final piece to the puzzle, you didn't want to disrespect your real parents by accepting new ones- or in this case a new father. And you felt responsible for there deaths carrying that type of guilt wasn't healthy for anyone. "...Okay...Okay baby...Grandma understands now...It wasn't your fault...None of this was your fault and don't you think otherwise ever...Your parents loved you and were probably yelling for you to hide and stay still...And the beach that wasn't your fault the atlanteans did that...They tried to declare war honey...If you wanted to I'm sure your uncle Arthur would talk to you about it...He felt guilty when he found out" you gasped and shook your head panicked at her.

"No! It wasn't his fault" she smiled at that he'd be happy to know according to Clark the man was beating himself up over it. She'd have to mention something to Clark to get the message across. "Or yours love...You couldn't have known what was going to happen...No one did we didn't-Clark didn't" You sucked in a deep breath and shook your head and opened your mouth to argue that you should have been stronger. "No no...I'm not done love...Do you think your mum and dad would want you to be alone?...Isolate yourself and refuse to live with a new family? That they want you to be unhappy?..I'm not asking you to forget them but its been a long time and maybe its time to accept that another family wants to be yours to protect you and guide and love you in your parents stead" you frowned wiping your face in vain as the tears still poured. "B-But what about you?- what if I can't save you? or Konner or-or" Martha shook her head at you chuckling raking her hands through your hair over and over in a soothing motion. "You don't have to...You don't have to save us love...Your dad is superman there isn't a lot he can't over come and konner is just behind him...And if anything ever happens here I'll have all three of you...Please don't make yourself unhappy in fear of loosing us, we aren't going anywhere" you blinked at her but gave a small smile Martha relaxed and hugged you again giving you one last kiss on your forehead. "Really? I'm- I don't need to....I wont be alone?" she shook her head at you somehow getting this off your chest made you fell lighter, it was freeing. You nodded thoughts still racing, no one ever took the time to really listen but it- Martha made sense your parents wouldnt want you to be alone would they? even if it was your fault which you still belived it was...They probably were crying out for you to hide, they must have known what was happening and only managed your name befor everything collapsed...The beach, well that was...It was war or the start of one. Seeing that she had gave you a lot to think about she patted your shoulders and nodded to the house. "Go have a shower and relax, we can plant these in the garden tomorrow...Just chill for today okay?" you gulped and slipped off the table to the floor slowly and turned timidly to hug her taking her by surprize you moved up on tip toes kissing her cheek and pulled away. "Thank you Grandma...That-You made sense" and with that you ran off letting the door slam behind you on your way out sprinting to your room.

It took a while but after a few days of deliberation you finally come to terms with everything. Nothing else had been mentioned about it over the past few days, well things had been pretty normal but you'd been thinking alot. Martha made a lot of sense it wasn't a eurica moment but it had switched you on. Maybe it was time to move on...You'd never forget your parents you'd never stop loving them but maybe...Maybe you could love your new family to. That’s what they were...What they were trying to be a family it was just you that was the problem, to cut off and dare you say 'emotional stunted'. No one had ever just let you unload onto them like that before, by the time you were due to start therapy you were already in the hospital being sedated under the mental health act. You never had anyone to talk to and by the end of that ordeal you'd found a way to deal with it, reasoned with your own guilt and had your own take on what happened. Maybe this could be a new start...Its never to late right? Maybe you should just start interacting instead of avoiding them, you and konner got on you were friends but Clark and Martha...You'd tried not to be around them much. No point getting under their feet besides you didn't need to many attachments if you were completely honest talking to konner was just so you didn't go mad, you needed atleast one person to talk to. It was late on friday morning when Martha and Konner had left to go shopping. You woke up to Martha placing some more design magazines on your desk by the door. Grandma you mentally corrected yourself had said she was going out and would be back around dinner time with take out. She must have brought them up to try and sway you, wanting you to make the first move with..Dad. You hadn't approached him yet still nervous and every time you did get a bit of spine Konner was there to you didn't want to make a fool of yourself. She winked at you and nodded, it will be fine. Once she left you sat up skimming through the book's quickly then looked about the room you were in, it was spacious and at the back of the house...You hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with it at all, you’d never done this sort of thing before. You felt silly but it was kind of a big thing for you...The finality of making your mark on the house. It was daunting. You held the catalogues in your lap for a moment looking around...You should probably paint it your favorite color right? but what was your favorite color?...It had been so long since you thought about stuff like that you were stumped. You moved slowly to the door magazines in hand, it was time to start trying. You padded down the stairs timidly and peeked through the banister, Clark was in the kitchen sitting at the table. You sat on the step for a few seconds taking deep breaths watching him from between the wooden spokes in the banister then nodded you moved and hovered by the door. He looked tired reading the paper before him drinking his coffee. He must be tired there was an incident in india last night..Landslide he was there for a few hours digging out survivors and that says alot considering who he was. You crept up behind him and stood awkwardly curling your toes.

"Err clar-Dad?" He froze shoulders going rigid and turned slowly blinking a few times, he was shocked but happy? A grin spread across his face making his eyes practically glow. He swallowed placing down the paper he was reading. "Y-yes? Whats up?" You could see a slight tremble as he was trying to contain himself. You moved and sat next to him and placed the magazines on the table. "I err...well Grandma said that I can decorate my room...She got me these but, I've never done it and don't...I don't know what I can do or what to do...I can you help me?" He nodded quickly clearing the table he was vibrating with excitement, happy that his mother got through to you. You smiled and spread out the books. "So what do you like? Have you thought about any colors or themes" you blinked a little and flicked through the first magazine. "I like the sea" you said in a small voice sounding weird you'd never really spoke about your likes and dislikes before it was kind of irrelevant. You suddenly perked up drawing Clarks attention as you gasped seeing a few images of murals. "I...That’s cool I like the second photo...With the big mural its cool..." Clark looked over your shoulder smiling nodding it was very light and airy the room was three walls of faux white brick the final wall was a huge mural of the suspension bridge separating Gotham and Metropolis. "It is different you could have the mural on the wall across from your bed" you thought about it and smiled sheepishly nodding. "You think they have a beach one...Not like white sand and clear water...But like rocky? With forrest and stuff that sort of seaside raw and rugged..." Clark smiled as you muttered away listing off ideas. Finally you were showing your true colours a bright and happy young girl slowly peeking out from behind her curtain of curls. "Well they should if not we can always go and take our own pictures" you gasped looking up at him shaking your head. "No no we don't...You don't have to do that..." you mumbled quickly avoiding his gaze. "Its no hassle...I do work for the daily planet I have access to some of the best cameras around...Ixm sure we could get a panoramic shot..We can fly out and find you a perfect spot it won't be that hard to scale it up and have one printed" he shrugged closing his own magazine waiting for you to answer. You twiddled your fingers it did sound fun...You'd never been anywhere before by plane the idea of going somewhere even quieter then this was very tempting you could just imagine the waves. "You can't book a holiday just so I can decorate...I'll just find one online" he chuckled at you shaking his head trying to hold back his amusement, he didn't want you to think he was laughing at you. "Oh no sweetheart I meant I will fly us out somewhere...It'll take a few minuets but there’s a great couple of island's near Vancouver extremely beautiful and lush there should be some good places there " you faltered then flushed. Oh yeah he can fly...Over the past few months you kind of forgot he was superman he was just Clark to you...Now dad. You took a breath. It was weird saying dad again. But you didn't feel bad about it just uneasy, what if he was doing this just to make sure you don't loose your mind and turn on them...Was that it? There must be a reason.

"Hey honey whats wrong? Gone all quiet all of a sudden, if you don't want to I can always ask your uncle Arthur to take a photo for us...Hell he might even have a few of his buddies photo bomb for you" Clark added trying to lighten the mood but secretly he was worried. Your happy dispositions had gone and you looked ready to run off and hide again. He was a little disappointed at the prospect of not being able to fly you off and spend a father daughter day at the beach, but these things would take time. "No no we can go! I want to go! it's just...I err forgot you were...That you could...Your just normal around here and just feel a little silly...I've also never been flying like at all and its just a little daunting" Clark grinned placing a hand on your shoulder squeezing it lightly. He was relieved you did want to spend time with him you were shy that was all. "That’s not silly at all and I promise flying with me is the safest way, I wont drop you, I'll never drop you, you can count on it...How about we go tomorrow afternoon? I can go borrow a camera from the office in the morning" you smiled into your lap twisting your t-shirt in your fingers nodding quickly trying to keep your nerves at bay. "Really? That's err fast and what about konner and grandma? Won't they want to come?" Clark's heart melted and burst all in one hearing you worry over your brother and grandmother. He was finally at ease. This wasn't a ruse you did think of them as family you did already love them. He'd ask his Ma about what was said but he doubts she'll tell him. But even if she didn't he's forever grateful to her because what ever was said has finally worked and for the first time he can truly say he felt like you'd accepted him as your new father and that meant the world to him. "Well they might but I have it on good authority that whilst we are having our father daughter weekend. Ma and konner are going to have fun of there own and spend the weekend in the city 'living it up' I have no doubt in my mind that they will be making good use of my savings...I have a feeling konner is going to wrangle himself a new xbox..." you looked down nervously the whole weekend? Alone with him. He moved his hand to ruffle your hair. "Hey...Its okay like I said we don't have to go flying, we do have to go to home depo tho ma still wants her makeshift greenhouse." You frowned he sounded defeated you turned facing him eye steely determined not to chicken out. This had to work, this was your home and you had to try harder. "I want to though...A-and like you said...You wont drop me I'd rather go flying for the first time with you rather then konner...He'd drop me just to catch me again and I'd probably piss myself" you muttered akwardly. "Then its settled! Tomorrow we go to the beach and take photos for your bedroom! Do you have a swimsuit? And some summer clothes it might be hot there and pack some suncream I wont have you burning! If you forget it your staying in the shade~" you smiled meekly at him nodding you did have a few summer clothes, some cotton shorts and a vest top should be fine. "Good you can pack a bag in the morning" he added grinning ear to ear finally feeling as though he had a chance to step in. You had opened the door and it was his job to make it stay that way. You crouched over the books with him feeling more and more confident as you began pointing out things in the books that you liked with him finally relaxing with him. Then it hit you like a truck. This really was it! Your very own room, your own home and a proper family.

You felt yourself getting choked up windpipe closing tightly only managing a few small hums in agreement as he pointed out different things colors and diy ideas. You took a deep breath trying to swallow the lump away from your throat. It was when tears blurred your vision and you sniffled trying to hold it back that Clark made his move wrapping you up in his arms all but dragging you out of your chair onto his lap. You wriggled trying to be released more out of habit then actually wanting to get away but he held firm tucking your head into his shoulder shushing you. "Your alright...I've got you I promise" he didn't speak after those words letting them sink in, he didn't need to say more then that his message was clear. You'd been accepted the fear and anxiety was melting away in one huge mass of relief as he just held you close one arm pinning you to him the other moving grabbing the pen that lived on the kitchen table and a small note pad used for shopping lists. He bit the lid off the pen and began writing a small list of what you'd need to get for your room. You tucked your face into him whining pitifully for the first time in years feeling truly safe and secure.

#superman x you #superman x teen reader #superman x y/n #clark kent x teen reader #clark kent x y/n #dc x teen reader

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ladykeane · 5 years

Note

for the fic prompts: reg and bertie adopting a cat!!!

Prompt filled!

I decided to cut to the chase. ‘I could not help but notice the pamphlet from Battersea sitting on the coffee table.’He now simpered at me boldly. ‘Come on, Reg… you know how dearly I want one! I’ve already cleared it with Mr Manglehoffer. Anyway, he has those yappy shih tzus. Couldn’t you just imagine curling up on the sofa with a little ball of fur, purring sweetly away in your lap? We can get it some toys and a scratching post, and stick its litter tray in the second lavatory. I could even get one of those mini vacuum cleaners to deal with the fur.’Clearly, he’d anticipated all of my possible protests.

For the majority of my life, I have considered myself a fairly guarded and self-contained man. Coming from a large and boisterous family, with siblings that loudly vie for attention and prominence, I have instinctively adopted the role of careful observer. Learning to read human character, and applying that knowledge to best improve my own situation, has become a lifelong skill that has aided me in both my career and social standing.

By contrast, Bertram is naturally carefree and open, largely unconcerned by how his interactions with others affect his own situation. I theorise this may be due to his status as an only child and an orphan, who has had to seek out love and approval by pleasing his extended family and his peer group. The claustrophobic clamour of my own demonstrative family has driven me to be quite guarded.

Of course, that is not to say that Bertram entirely lacks guile. I have noted his novice study of the psychology of the individual (I am not too humble to say that my modus operandi has been his primary inspiration), and he has slowly become more canny in his negotiations.A prime example of this occurred only last week.

I returned home from work. Instead of encountering the usual disarray of empty mugs, unfolded laundry, and errant clutter strewn about the place, the flat was impeccably tidy. The strains of my favourite Tchaikovsky concerto floated from the stereo system, interspersed with muted metallic clangs echoing out from the kitchen. The sound of my beloved singing to himself could also be discerned.

‘What ho, Reg. Dinner will be on in about five. Just got to finish the potatoes. I thought we could eat in the dining room tonight.’Curious, I peered into said space. The table was set for two, accented by a swathe of lit candles and a fresh bouquet of white peonies as a centrepiece. This sort of ceremony was usually reserved for birthdays and other such occasions. As I put away my work things, I pondered what Bertram’s motive could be. I prayed that he hadn’t broken anything irreplaceable. Or, even worse, invoked the wrath of one of his aunts, thus requiring my help to, as he is wont to say, ‘pull him from the soup.’

As I crossed back towards the dining room, I spied one piece of clutter which remained conspicuous on the coffee table: a pamphlet from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. It reported on the unfortunate spike in abandoned animals that occurs after each Christmas, as well as the purported advantages of taking in a rescue animal as a family pet.

Bertram met me at the table with two plates of juicy sirloin, and an attractive smile. He had donned his pale blue, fitted Cuban collar shirt, which displayed the graceful lines of his neck and collarbone most fetchingly. ‘There’s tiramisu for dessert, too. The one from Angelo’s!’

As we dined, I fought between savouring the exquisite trappings that Bertram had laid out, and the fizzle of exasperation at the imminent pitch that I was in for.Bertram has always been enamoured of cats, and I had long known that I would have to deal with his desire to adopt one as a pet. I am certainly not averse to the animals - in some cases they are charming companions, elegant and affectionate, and less intrusive to a household than a dog. However, they can also possess a changeable temperament, and the scratch-marks and fur they can leave on one’s furniture is, at least in my view, a major detriment. Not to mention the ghastly odour of their litter trays.

I pushed a mound of green beans about my plate, and huffed to myself. There are a number of inadvisable fancies that I have striven to cure my fiance of: garish fashion choices, toxic acquaintances, and not least of all a phase where he attempted to learn the banjo. But this, I fear, was more deep-seated.The poet Baudelaire had much to say about the comfort of feline companionship: ‘Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux.’ Likewise the prophet Mohammed, Catherine the Great, even the sublime Freddie Mercury. My Bertram counted among this group. His beautiful loving heart was eager to make a comfortable home for some lucky beast. While my fastidious habits still balked at the adjustments of taking on a pet, I knew deep down this was a battle I could not win. Especially considering that a softer part of me would be delighted by the little creature’s presence, despite any potential mess.

He interrupted my rumination. ‘I mean, since we’re well settled in to our flat now, and will soon don the spongebag trousers to exchange our vows… I figured it was about time, you know. Expand our little family and all.’While I knew the pleading look in his large blue eyes to be mostly a crafty design, it still had the effect of melting me utterly.

‘Well…’ I said slowly, ‘I insist that I be present at the selection of the animal. I should like to have input as to which one we choose, and the chance to assess its temperament prior to adoption.’‘Of course, old thing, I wouldn’t have it any other way! It’s going to be your cat, too.’‘Be that as it may, cleaning and feeding will fall entirely to you, my poet.’‘Right ho.’

One upshot was that he washed the dishes entirely by himself, and later allowed me to undress him and ravish him in all the ways that pleased me best - though I warrant this last perk was certainly a mutual one.

***

‘Oh Bertie, I’m ever so glad that you’ve come to rescue one of our little sweethearts!’ Ms Bassett, eyes shining, led us cheerfully through to the cattery. ‘You know, Roddy and I just found the perfect baby brother for Piglet, a dear little fox terrier cross named Snowy. Just like the doggie in “Tintin”!’A thoughtful mien passed across Bertram’s face.‘A doggie, eh?’‘No, Bertram.’‘Oh, alright.’

The cattery was a bright, clean space, with the cats kept individually in large perspex enclosures. I confess I was not unaffected by the rows of bright emerald eyes and twitching velvet ears that we beheld.‘Let me know if you would like to meet any of these precious angels, and you can go in and introduce yourselves,’ Ms Bassett informed us.‘I say, I like this one!’

Bertram had already been drawn to one inmate, who’d padded right up to the front of the enclosure to gaze up at him curiously. A small, delicate thing, with grey tabby markings on her mask, back and tail, and white underbelly and legs. As Bertram kneeled to greet her, she chirruped away in a light, dulcet voice.‘Puccini likes you, Bertie! She’s not usually so friendly with visitors.’‘Puccini, eh? We could call her “Poochy” for short, eh Reg?’‘Most amusing, Bertram.’

We entered her enclosure, and she wasted no time in winding herself about Bertram’s legs, still chirping at him. She was rewarded with a gentle scratch on the head, and she purred loudly. I could sense that this was love at first sight.‘Who’s a good Poochy, then? Do you behave yourself for Ms Maddie?’‘Mrowr.’‘Jolly good.’

He plopped himself down, and spent the next hour playing with Puccini. He giggled as she batted at his outstretched wriggling fingers, stroked her plush fur as she gently headbutted his arm, and even let her lick his face with her sandy pink tongue. All the while he cooed at her, while she responded in kind with a lyrical stream of mews and tweets and squeaks.‘Little chatterbox, isn’t she?’‘Like attracts like, Bertram.’

It seemed inevitable - we would not need to see any other cats. After a while I approached Ms Bassett. ‘I believe we have made our selection.’‘More like Puccini has made hers,’ she remarked. ‘But I’m afraid that it’s not that simple. Puccini came from a house full of cats, you see, and doesn’t do well on her own. The policy for adopting her is that she must have another kitty housemate.’

My heart dropped to my stomach. One cat was enough of a compromise, but two cats could be potential bedlam. My mind roved to images of troublesome cartoon siamese, broken ceramics, and overwhelmed house guests.

But then my gaze settled on Bertam cradling the purring Puccini in his arms, a look of pure bliss cast across his lovely face. A heavy sigh escaped me.‘Bertram, we must adopt a second cat in order to take Puccini home. Shall we select one?’

He looked up at me, partly surprised and noticeably moved.‘Oh… are you sure, Reg? I mean, I’d be over the moon to get two of them, but…’I swallowed my diffidence down. ‘I could no more bear to part you from your new friend than I could part the Red Sea.’‘Reg… you are a marvel. Well… since I chose this one, why don’t you choose the second for yourself?’

I left the two of them to seek out our next adoptee. Here I rallied my sound judge of character. Puccini appeared to be bubbly and perhaps a little capricious, so I reckoned that a cat with a steady, serene temperament would prove to be the best influence for her.

I passed the rows of prospective pets, paying careful attention to demeanour and body language. The friendlier, more extroverted cats I discounted right away - they would no doubt prove to exacerbate Puccini’s friskiness. I instead paid attention to the cats who remained calm and still. Some were simply grumpy, and they would not do. Nor did I consider the animals who were sluggish and entirely unresponsive - that could possibly be a sign of poor health.And then, I saw him.

Perched atop a tiered scratching post, this long lean beast was the very picture of feline elegance. He was pure white, with a long tail that was swishing about slowly and gracefully. His face was not soft and round but aquiline, almost lionesque. His eyes were closed in contemplation. The long neck was tilted slightly to the side - all the better to show off his wonderful profile. Had I not known better, I would have deemed him a fine marble sculpture.‘That’s Vasily. Handsome, isn’t he? Would you like to say hello?’

Ms Bassett let me into the enclosure, and I carefully approached him. ‘Good day, Mr Vasily.’At this he opened his eyes, and I was astounded to discover they were a similar hue to Bertram’s: brilliant, summer sky blue. He meowed at me, a low, husky drawl.‘Vasily is a nice chap, very calm. I think he’s the least anxious cat I’ve ever seen,’ said Ms Bassett.

I held up a hand to him, which he gently headbutted. His coat was like silk. He purred at my attention, deeper and more resonant than Puccini’s delicate timbre.I could well picture myself lounging about with a good book and a glass of wine, with this exquisite animal draped upon me. He had a look of such serenity and intelligence, the exemplar of his species.

While I was not eager for his white fur to meet my dark apparel, I spent some time with Vasily, basking in his natural tranquility. Ms Bassett suggested introducing Puccini to him.The smaller cat eagerly jumped up to join him on the scratching post platform, making a very forward introduction in licking the fur on his back. He responded to this by drooping in ecstasy.‘They are both desexed, are they not?’Ms Bassett nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Well, Reg, I think we’ve found ourselves a fur-baby family, what?’

***

We brought our new pets home with a cosy sort of excitement. The first task was, of course, to allow the cats free reign to explore the flat, and get comfortable with their new home. I had made Bertram set up the litter tray that morning, to prevent any accidents.

They padded cautiously about, sniffing at the furniture and seeming to conduct a little conversation of their own:‘Meow.’‘Mrowr?’‘Miiiaow.’‘Prrrt!’

Bertram sat upon the sofa, encouraging them to join him. Puccini quickly snuggled into his lap.‘Awfully nice spot to watch telly here, Poochy. Or possibly listen to a good recording of “Madame Butterfly!”’

It was at this juncture that a magnificent crash sounded from the kitchen.I rushed in to find my elegant Vasily clambering about on the workbench, knocking down the tea things with his long swishing tail.‘Mr Vasily!’‘Miaow?’‘Get down from there at once!’

He blinked at me with serene, uncomprehending blue eyes.I shooed him off the counter, and he leapt to the floor, spilling a jar of tea leaves in his descent. As he scooted out of the kitchen, he bumped into the rubbish bin.

Once I had cleaned up the mess, I found the culprit sitting next to Bertram on the sofa. Puccini was still curled up on his lap, her tail swishing as she dozed. It was inadvertently smacking Vasily in the face. Each time he was hit, he recoiled with surprise. But not once did he think to get out of the way. It was almost comical to watch this cycle of stupid endurance.

‘That was Vasily making a racket in there?’ Bertram asked.‘I regret it was.’‘Hm.’ He examined the feline, still being helplessly swatted by his new housemate’s tail. ‘You know what, Reg? Not for the first time, I think you’ve fallen in love with a blue-eyed himbo.’

***

Thus far, Vasily has broken three pieces of glassware, one mantlepiece clock, shredded Bertram’s favourite purple long-sleeve tee (no great loss), knocked several books off their shelves, and repeatedly interrupted Bertram and I in flagrante. He has also accepted his place as the second banana, as Puccini has asserted herself as pack leader without room for argument. Last night, he spilled my cup of tea across the dining table, almost ruining my laptop.

And yet, every time I look into his blue eyes, completely helpless as to the chaos that he leaves in his wake, I pang for the sweet, silly creature. He has very quickly claimed a place in my heart. Upon cleaning up his messes, he is all too eager to snuggle with me as I peruse Spinoza or Wilde, and his purrs are deep and soothing. Without malice, without coldness, and without any bloody common sense. My Vasily is a welcome addition to our little family, and with him I am a less guarded, more loving man.

***NOTE: Vasily and Puccini are inspired by my brother’s cats (I being the owner of a darling doggie). Vasily crossed the rainbow bridge in 2018, but he has a happy forever home with Jeeves and Bertie. I can attest that the real Vasily was just as much of a clumsy, heedless dumbass, while also being singularly beautiful (reminds one of a certain Drone, no?)

#jeeves and wooster #jooster #prompt filled #fanfiction #reginald jeeves #bertie wooster #cat #cats #kittehs

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mypassionfortrash · 4 years

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Rumours: 1983

And here’s a peek at the next half of my Rumours fic. Again, it’s not formatted or proofed. I wrote this during NaNoWriMo so it’s definitely going to be a bit iffy.

1983. Roger was three weeks into recording his second solo album. He had a clear, profound vision in the front of his mind for what he wanted. He wanted it to sound like a space opera. With synths, god forbid. He was proactive. He used his mornings to plan his days all alone in the live room and he liked to be undisturbed; after all, he was under pressure from Queen’s label to complete his solo outing well in advance of the release of Queen’s latest offering – The Works. At seven in the morning, all was quiet. Roger was free to putter around as he pleased in the shared kitchen in the basement studio in Munich, sinking endless cups of coffee and tapping out experimental beats on the edge of the table with two biros.

But nothing ever went to plan.

Thudding and shuffling thundered down the stairs outside the kitchen, pulling him sharply out of his creative sweet spot. He eyed his watch; Dave would be arriving in an hour and he still needed to figure out how to finish one particular song. He was sure it was a killer tune; certain of it. But he just couldn’t find the perfect way to finish it. He knew he wanted something big, but something different.

But he couldn’t concentrate.

He sprang to his feet, overcome with waves of unease and marched to the door. Whether to close it or to scold the dreaded interruptor was anyone’s guess. But he caught a glimpse of someone wandering into the adjacent studio space, which forced him to do a double take. She looked like someone he knew and someone he loved a long time ago. Memories came flooding back to him in bright glorious streams, underscored by a sense of guilt and loss. But her perfume was so her. And so unmistakeable.

He closed the door and turned his back, digging his fingers into his eyes and shaking his head. It couldn’t be, he thought, sitting down at the table. It can’t be her, he repeated, picking up his pen and his coffee and sinking the dregs.

It played on Roger’s mind all day until it was time to head home. Eleven at night and whoever was in studio two was still going strong. Curiosity was getting the better of Roger as he turned to leave the studio. He got five steps up to his badly parked Range Rover, before he about turned and wandered back down to listen to what was happening in the studio next door. He just needed to know whether his eyes were deceiving him.

He peered through the perspex and into the control room, expecting to find answers. Instead, all he could see was a woman, bent over the mixing desk, being fucked by a tall, tattooed brute with long, greasy hair. Their backs were to the door, and they couldn’t see him, but somehow, he felt like he had violated the couple in the worst way. But she just looked so much like woman Roger used to love.

He left with no answers that night. Only a tremendous sense of shock and embarrassment.

The following morning, Roger returned with the same hopes and the same struggles as the day before. He still had no idea how to finish the final song on the album, and frustration was starting to reach boiling point for him as he screeched his Range Rover to a halt in the space next to the Triumph with the pearly white tank.

He sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t be alone this morning.

As he plodded down the stairs towards the kitchen, he mentally made a plan to simply get his coffee and hole himself up in the studio, avoiding making any kind of conversation with whoever was invading on his alone time. Not only that, but the images from what he saw the night before were still fresh in his mind. He knew he wasn’t a good actor. He wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if he was forced to meet the person he had seen shagging or getting shagged over the mixing desk.

But then, he heard soft sobs coming from the kitchen, forcing his footsteps to grind to a halt, five or six steps from the bottom. A woman. His gut sank, wondering if and how he should proceed. Whether he might be able to help her. The poor thing was bawling her eyes out. And it tugged too harshly on Roger’s heartstrings that he couldn’t just stand there on the stairs and listen to her. Especially if that woman was who he thought she was.

He took careful, measured steps all the way down to the bottom and poked his head around the corner into the kitchen. “Mind if I join you?” Roger asked softly.

The woman looked up and all the answers he had been searching for stared him blankly in the face with eyes ringed black and cheeks caked in inky black tears. After all those years, you and Roger had somehow found yourselves in the same place at the same time. Like a deer in the headlights, you looked at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. “No. Not at all.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader

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sunday-knight · 4 years

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Clear acrylic sofa side coffee table customized by www.sunday-knight.com

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isitgintimeyet · 5 years

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The Ties That Bind

AO3

Thanks for reading so far.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support. Thanks also to @happytoobservenolongerdistant @faeriesfanficblog @futurelounging for the support.

OK, angst warning - I’m sure everybody knows what this chapter is going to be about...

Chapter 29: An Anticipated Delivery

James: Look, you gotta use Lamaze. It works. My sister-in-law used it. You don't use drugs, and it's better for the kid. Mollie: You know, the only people who say stupid things like that are men, because they're idiots!

-Look Who’s Talking

Claire woke with a start, suddenly conscious of the cold space next to her. The bedroom was still dark, the clock flashing 6:30. It had been a fitful night’s sleep for both of them. Jamie had turned to her in the night, assuming their spooning position, but with his hand wrapped around his phone, rather than its usual place gently cupping her breast.

Shivering, she slipped out of bed and quickly donned her onesie.

Downstairs, she could see Jamie sitting in the dark in the conservatory, sipping a coffee. She poured herself a mug and went to join him. Without a word, he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips as she sat next to him. She leant into him, relishing his body heat though his old hoodie.

“Everything’s going to change.” Claire said quietly.

“Aye.” Unfocused, Jamie stared out into the garden, his mind a million miles away. Then suddenly he refocused, shook his head, and spoke clearly.

“Weel, no’ everything. What willna change is ye and I, Sassenach, and the way I feel about ye. We’ll adjust, we’ll manage… it’ll still be us. Promise me ye’ll stick around?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good, because…”

The phone suddenly interrupted their conversation. Jamie pressed the speaker button and positioned it between himself and Claire, his hand trembling slightly.

“Jamie, he’s here. Arrived about thirty minutes ago.” Isobel’s voice sounded thrilled but exhausted. “Normal delivery. No complications. They’re just sorting Geneva out now, but the baby is fine. Nine pounds one. And a fine pair of lungs on him. Screaming fit to burst as soon as he emerged.”

“Ah, that’s great news. Thanks for this, Isobel. When can I come and see him?”

In the dawn light, Claire could see Jamie’s eyes: the tears shining brightly, ready to fall.

“Come at eleven, if you can. Hopefully, they can come home later this afternoon, if all goes well. See you later then, Jamie.”

Jamie turned and buried his head in Claire’s neck, his tears now falling freely. Eventually, with a huge sniff, he composed himself and pulled back slightly.

“Do ye...are ye...do ye mind…?” Jamie struggled to find the right words.

“I’m not coming to the hospital with you today.” She interrupted his struggle, saving him from having to say those words to her. Today was not the day for Claire to deal with Geneva, or, God forbid, her mother.

“I’ll have plenty of time to meet your son. Today is between you… and your son.”

And just like that, she felt a little piece of her heart break.

************

Isobel was waiting for Jamie at the maternity reception. Greeting him with a warm hug whilst managing to avoid the large hamper and flowers he carried, she beamed with happiness. “Jamie, he’s beautiful, just you wait and see. And Geneva did so well too, she really surprised me. Anyway, come and see for yourself.”

Jamie followed Isobel through the hospital corridors, just another father excitedly heading to see his child, and much less excitedly, that child’s mother.

He stood for a moment at the door of the private room Geneva was in. She was sitting on top of the bed covers, chatting animatedly to her mother. Unsurprisingly, Geneva’s face looked weary, but fully made up.

When she spotted them, Louisa Dunsany rose from her chair and made her way to Jamie and Isobel. She caught Jamie’s arm momentarily, preventing him from entering the room and spoke in a whisper.

“Geneva’s been magnificent. Look at her, I mean really look at her and think about what she’s done for you… and how you should repay her for it.” In a louder voice, she added: “Come on Isobel, let’s go and find a cup of tea that’s half decent… I don’t know what some of the staff here have been making but it certainly isn’t tea.”

Jamie barely registered the comments. His eyes were fixed on the little Perspex crib by the side of the bed. As Isobel and her mother left in search of a proper cup of tea, he rushed into the room, depositing the hamper and flowers carelessly on the table, desperate for the first glimpse of his son.

He gazed down at the baby lying asleep in the crib. He had seen newborns before, but this one was more beautiful, more perfect than any other. He reached out a finger and stroked the red down on his head, running it around the shell-like ear and on to a tiny fist, practically hidden in the sleeve of a white babygro, too big for the newborn boy. The baby let out a tiny half-cry then settled back into the regular pattern of breathing.

“I hope your hands are clean.”

Staring at his son, Jamie had forgotten the presence of Geneva.

“Aye,” he responded. “I used the hand gel on the way in. Can I hold him? Let me take a couple o’ photos first.”

Geneva nodded. Having taken multiple snaps of the baby, Jamie carefully picked him up, head nestled in one large hand, bottom in the other. He sat down as the baby lazily opened his eyes to stare at his father for a few seconds. Approval having been given, the baby yawned and resumed his nap. Jamie shifted him in his arms, bringing him close to his chest.

“Geneva, he’s beautiful. Thank ye, thank ye. I dinna ken what else tae say. God, he is just sae.. .sae… beautiful… jes’ amazin’. Can ye take a picture of us, me and him on ma phone, please? I want tae have a memory of this moment.”

Geneva obligingly took Jamie’s phone.

“How are ye feeling? I bought ye some flowers, by the way, and the hamper is a gift fer the two o’ ye,” Jamie continued.

“I’m tired and sore and achy. I don’t think I can stand upright. I’m still feeling nauseous from the pain relief. I need a long bath. My breasts are painful and I am forced to wear an industrial strength bra. But, he is lovely isn’t he? Sweet William…”

“William? Ye’ve decided on a name, without discussing it wi’ me?”

“William, it’s a family name. William Dunsany, it’s something Mummy wanted, well, we all wanted.”

“It’s a fine name, but could ye no’ have spoken tae me about it? What about middle names? I ken his surname is Dunsany, but could we mebbe include Fraser as one of his names?” Jamie tried to keep his patience and focus on what really mattered - his son, here in his arms.

“I’ve not decided yet. It depends.”

“Aye? On what?”

Geneva remained silent. Jamie, focusing only on his son, did not question the lack of response.

“Weel, we need tae decide afore we register his birth. We have three weeks tae do that, and I have tae come wi’ ye, ye ken. Then we can start tae make plans.”

“Plans, what sort of plans?”

The hopeful tone in Geneva’s voice made Jamie finally tear his eyes away from his son and look at her. She was staring intently at the two of them, father and son.

“Plans for how we share lookin’ after this bairn, when he’s a bit bigger and can stay wi’ me overnight. And how much child support I’ll give ye. We’ve been decorating a spare bedroom as a nursery for Wee Willie…”

“His name is William, not Willie.” Geneva interrupted harshly.

William began to stir, turning his face into Jamie’s chest, rooting for milk.

“Och, Lad. I’m yer Da, there’s nothing there fer ye. Let me pass ye tae yer Mam.”

Reluctantly, Jamie passed William over to Geneva as she unbuttoned her shirt. He turned his head away, for Geneva’s sake, as she guided the baby to latch on, turning back once he heard the rhythmic sucking sound.

“I’m glad ye’re tryin’ the breast feedin’.” He smiled encouragingly. “Jenny says it’s no’ always easy, mind.”

“Hmm, spare me the details from Saint Jenny, please. I’ve been told, it’s very good for helping lose the baby weight. And also, do not refer to me as ‘Mam.’ If you’re talking about me, please say Mummy.”

“I’ll try tae remember.”

Having managed to find an acceptable cup of tea, Louisa popped her head around the doorframe.

“Everything alright?” she asked her daughter, who gave a tight smile and a small head shake in response.

Louisa immediately came bustling into the room, settling herself on the bed next to Geneva. “Well, I think it’s time we started to get sorted. Doctor will be round in a minute and then we can get off home. Jamie, I expect you’ve got lots of things to think about at home too.”

Jamie recognised the tone of dismissal in her voice. Regretfully, he bent to kiss William a final time.

“Once again, Geneva, thank ye, he is the bonniest bairn I’ve ever seen. Can I come ‘round tomorrow and see him again? I’ll give ye a call first. Oh, and can we arrange a time when Da and Jenny can meet wi’ him? Mebbe bring him round to ma house, if that’s easier. I ken it’ll take a while tae adjust. Goodbye, Louisa, Isobel.”

************

Once Jamie left, Claire needed something to occupy her mind, to save her from dwelling on what was happening at the hospital.

Wandering around the house, she searched for something to do that would engage her fully. As she washed the coffee cups, she decided that she would prepare dinner, add a couple of recipes to her somewhat meagre repertoire.

A quick search of the internet and she found a couple of recipes that seemed simple enough- chicken cacciatore and an apple and cinnamon crumble. Grabbing her coat, she hesitated for a moment. Did this make her seem like she was somehow competing for Jamie, proving she had value as a partner? She let the thoughts cross her mind, but quickly decided not to over-analyse her actions and headed to the shops.

**********

Jamie opened the front door to be greeted by a tantalising smell of casserole, apples and cinnamon. He sniffed appreciatively, his stomach suddenly remembering that he had not yet eaten today, excitement having overridden the usual hunger pangs.

“Sassenach…” he called out as he walked into the living room.

Claire greeted him with a huge hug.

“How is he?”

Jamie disentangled himself from Claire’s arms and, grinning, delved in his pocket for his phone. He quickly flicked to the photos, first of the baby in his crib and then in his arms.

“He is the bonniest bairn ye ever saw. Christ, I tell ye, the sight of him and ma insides turned to jelly. And the little noises and snuffles he was makin’... he looked at me, he kens his Da already. And look...”

Jamie pulled a small photo out of his wallet. “See, this is me as a baby. We could be twins. His name may be Dunsany, but nae doubt he’s a Fraser.”

Claire studied the pictures. She could see the obvious look of joy on Jamie’s face as he held his son. As happy as she was for Jamie, she suddenly felt like crying. Why was she suddenly feeling so sad? Would Jamie’s love for the baby make him reconsider their relationship? And how terrible a person must she be to have these thoughts, to doubt Jamie?

“He is beautiful. And how is Geneva?” Claire tried to keep her voice level.

“Geneva is as she ever was. Havin’ a bairn has no’ improved her personality. But Isobel said she was verra good durin’ the birth, and she is tryin’ tae breastfeed William.”

“So you’ve decided on a name then?”

“Weel,” Jamie admitted. “I had no say in that. She had already decided. I’m hopin’ tae include Fraser as a middle name, but she’s no’ decided on that yet.”

“I canna wait fer ye to meet him, Sassenach…” Jamie continued. “But I havena mentioned that tae Geneva jes’ yet. I dinna ken how she’ll react. I have said that I want Da and Jenny tae meet the bairn. And ye will soon, I promise.”

Claire forced a smile. “I know. Do you want some food?”

“Aye, I havena eaten today. The food smells grand. Who made it?”

“Me,” Claire said proudly. “All by myself, from scratch. Chicken Cacciatore and apple crumble.”

Jamie drew Claire close to him, her cheek pressed against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Thank ye, Sassenach.”

“It's only dinner…”

“Nah, it’s no’ the food. Thank ye for everything… fer today, fer lettin’ me blather on about the bairn, fer yer patience, fer still bein’ here, fer lovin’ me. Today will have been difficult fer ye, I ken. And ye dinna complain..ever.”

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter. “We'll work it out, together, Claire. It'll all sort out.”

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #the ties that bind #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #chapter 29

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amazingarchitecturewebsite · 5 years

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THE LINE PERSPEX Coffee Table is the biggest minimalistic statement by @bakerstreetboys_london and one of the world's most expensive furniture. They put a value on the idea. The idea is not visible - it is translucent, it is often missed… it is nothing but everything. This Coffee Table is a poetic and artistic representation of the statement. Translucent light perspex - it is a ‘plastic’ with no value. It is shaped in a multifuncional form where all the rules are ‘bent’. It contrasts with the block of solid oak with a beautiful story. Oak represents solidity and value in their traditional perception. #bakerstreetboys #london #uk #design #architecture #picoftheday #архитектура #amazingarchitecture #style #nofilter #architect #arquitectura #luxury #realestate #life #cute #architettura #interiordesign #photooftheday #love #travel #instagood #fashion #beautiful #archilovers #architecturephotography #home #house ‎#amazing ‎#معماری (London, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5DdRZpFG75/?igshid=1beq4l0mkgytl

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driftwork · 6 years

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Invisible Table

"Tell me about the fascinating things you have seen. I don't want to hear about anything that is un-understandable." She says. We have been travelling northwards for an hour or so, just beginning to drive along the A44. When we are travelling we never really know what places are waiting to surprise us on the route, what does the wall look like, the buildings, the trees, bushes, the mill, cinema, coffee shop, road and road. In all places in the country things change on a gradual basis, some fundamentally do not change. So I tell her about being in H. I was in in the shop looking for somethings, a picture frame for the Osip Brik photo, essentially a pale wooden frame in which the monochrome print could rest on one of the shelves in my library. Outside the grey light was getting duller as the sky prepared to rain. At every point in the store you could get things to, in turn: enable you to sleep, make tools, cook, sit on sofas, dining chairs, reading chairs, rugs, carpets, drinking tea or coffee out of, shot glasses for vodka, wine glasses, disrobe, reign, sell, light, interrogate false oracles. Hidden in the corners are discreet doors which enable entrances to the canceriums or the gentle rooms of mythological women. I wandered around bemused carrying the frames, my bag containing an essay "On Hume's Theory of Human Nature", I roam about and have nothing but doubts. Unable to identify the primary features of the store, the only things that are desirable are those in my hands. If so then why do these other things exist here? Why does this place exist he (I) muses. And then I walk into the invisible table, it makes a satisfyingly dull ringing sound. I look down at the empty space. Kick the space again and feel the table with my foot, bending down i put my hand on the warm surface. It feels like perspex. "How, what?"... "Part of our invisible furniture range, this is probably the cube coffee table, I wondered where it was, children move the labels and we lose them sometimes..." I put a book on the table, it hangs in the air. I had never seen invisible furniture before. He shows me the invisible lamp, he fumbles in the air to find the switch and turns it on, the light hangs in the air about five feet above the floor. The lamp is invisible, only the yellow light hanging weightless and unmoving, a metre above the floor.

#fiction #everyday practices #invisible

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able-acrylic-display · 4 years

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Perspex Coffee Table Clear Acrylic Desk for Home Use

Product classification: Perspex Coffee Table;

Product name: Perspex Coffee Table Clear Acrylic Desk for Home Use;

Size:customized;Color:customized;

Detailed structure adjust:available;

Application:home use, hotel use, etc.

This is a perspex coffee table clear acrylic desk for home use. Its size, appearance and structure are all available to change as you want. All clear acrylic material made, fashionable, beautiful and functional. Aestietic legs make this perspex coffee table more fashionable and modern style.

View more at https://www.ableacrylic.com/Product-item/custom-acrylic-table-acrylic-furniture-for-home-use/ or email [email protected].

#Perspex coffee table #clear acrylic desk #acrylic desk #coffee table

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sunday-knight · 4 years

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U shape acrylc coffee table customized by www.sunday-knight.com

Sunday Knight Co.,Ltd is a custom acrylic box & custom acrylic displays manufacturer which located in Dongguan City, Guangdong Province, China. We specialized in manufacturing all kinds of acrylic (plexiglass) products which cover kinds of POP, POS acrylic display stands, acrylic box, perspex box, acrylic table tents, acrylic picture frames, acrylic photo frames, acrylic brochure holders, acrylic menu holders, custom acrylic signs, acrylic bulk food bins, acrylic display shelves & risers, custom acrylic display case, plexiglass awards & trophy, perspex stationery racks, acrylic block, custom cut acrylic, laser cut plexiglass and other acrylic displays. Welcome to visit https://www.sunday-knight.com or contact:[email protected] for more details.

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williamccreynolds · 3 years

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A Coffin Coffee Table That Opens So You Can Store All Of Your Creepy Collections

This amazing handmade coffin is perfect for any crypts! This coffin coffee table is handmade by skilled artisans specialized in wood and gothic furniture. It’s made from wood and Perspex where you can store all manner of gothic regalia viewable from the glass door. This coffee table is available in the link below… Check the price…

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

Check the price! Find it HERE…

from Real Estate https://www.goodshomedesign.com/a-coffin-coffee-table-that-opens-so-you-can-store-all-of-your-creepy-collections/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

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able-acrylic-display · 4 years

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Perspex Coffee Table Fashionable Home Use Lucite Dining Table

Perspex coffee table fashionable home use lucite dining table

Product classification: Perspex Coffee Table;

Lead time: 2-3 weeks;

Product name: Perspex Coffee Table Fashionable Home Use Lucite Dining Table;

Size: L120cm * W60cm * H50cm or customized;

Color: crystal clear and wooden like;

Material: All acrylic(surface board with wooden like printing);

Structure: assemble…

View On WordPress

#coffee table #dining table #lucite dining table #perspex coffee table

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brochureholderkmsl243-blog · 4 years

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Acrylic A Coffee Table

Acrylic painting offers many benefits such as quick drying serious amounts of the fact it truly is allergen- and odor-free. Acrylic paint is versatile and gives a lasting finish. If you are just learning the skill of decorative acrylic painting, use the tips below for a solid start.

You probably get this premium grade of acrylic sheeting in an extensive range of forms. It's totally get because a cast sheet. 100 % possible get because an extruded sheet. Purchase get it in an individual application performed on your requirements. You can have Perspex cut to size in intricate and complex shapes. You get simple cuts cooked. You will have the right professional company may do just about anything must make sure with this acrylic sheets. It comes in multiple thicknesses that everyone to choose best one for the application. You can receive it in the clear finish Click for more Additional resources info or a good opal accomplished. You can understand it in a frosted finish as successfully.

Avoid buying cheap acrylic paints unless you're with these for practice only. Economical often fade after expertise the sunlight for Sneeze Guard a period of time, especially particular light shades because pink and violet. Expend on artist-grade acrylics for lasting beauty within your art is prosperous.

When silicone adhesive appeared into image quality in the 1960's, metal frames ceased to exist and turned into glass folks were able to keep salt water fish their particular aquariums.

Acrylic stamps are usually made in any polymer basis. The pros are that these kinds of are clear and also that can see exactly where you are stamping, they simple to store because they may not be attached into a wooden block like rubber stamps, so they are very easy to care for. The cons are a person can can't do fine detail work like hard rubber stamps can, and it may be hard help make matters a perfectly straight image if the carpeting place the stamp perfectly straight onto the acrylic quit. The latter often only true for long images for instance hand-stitching images or beds and borders.

Next I select a few colors to be able to. I usually pick my colors straight from the designer series paper I'm using. That's the nice thing about Stampin Up's paper that is it's all coordinated a person already. The catalog description will a person which colors of ink and paper coordinate light and portable images on your designer series paper.

The real secret to putting on a stellar wedding shower could be the same as to putting on the great wedding event. If you start planning early, you may have plenty of time to get all of the details in a position to. So if the in charge of throwing a shower for a friend, start making organized currently!

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australianservices1 · 4 years

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Maintaining and Restoring Acrylic Sheet

Acrylic is a transparent plastic used on a wide scale due to its ability to replace glass. It is usually available as acrylic cut to size that is converted into useful products such as sales displays, lenses, protective screens, roofing, windows, TV screen protectors, and many others.

But what makes products such as clear Perspex sheet cut to size the favourite of manufacturing businesses all over the world? The secret lies in the unique properties of this thermoplastic:

- Excellent optical clarity;

- Light transmission that is superior to the one of glass;

- Rigidity and good impact strength; if it breaks, acrylic forms dull pieces unlike glass which shatters into hundreds of sharp and dangerous little shards;

- Being easy to process and model due to excellent dimensional stability and low mould shrinkage;

- Can be sawed and cut using tools similar to those used for wood;

- Has a greater transparency than that of glass and will not present a greenish tint when moulded into thick sheets.

These properties make acrylic and its derived products, like Perspex sheet cut to size, suitable for a variety of uses and applications, such as:

- Furniture such as cabinets and coffee tables;

- Sporting equipment;

- Aquariums;

- Artistic sculpting;

- Protection screens used in sports;

- Sneeze screens that have become increasingly widely used since the Covid-19 pandemic to reduce the spread of the virus.

How to protect and prevent damage

Products and objects made from acrylic can last for years, even decades if you follow some simple protection rules in order to prevent damage, especially when working with acrylic in the creation of other products:

- When storing products such as acrylic sheet cut to size, it is recommended to protect them with polyethylene film overwrap to keep dirt and moisture away. Sheets must be stored vertically or in special racks leaning at an angle of approximately 10º. Plywood panels should be used to provide full support to the material. When acrylic sheets are stored horizontally, they must not be allowed to sag.

- Perspex sheets cut to size are usually delivered with sheet masking; this protection layer should be left on the product to protect the sheet surface. However, if you need to remove masking for detail work, bending, or thermoforming, store the unmasked sheets in the original shipping cartons and avoid unnecessary handling of unmasked sheet;

- Wear rubber gloves when handling acrylic and manipulate it by its edges;

- Neutralise static electricity which can form especially on new Perspex sheet cut to size; static electricity will attract dust, chips, and other small particles floating in the air and will ultimately contaminate the surface. Use an ionising air gun to temporarily eliminate static charges before any operations such as bending, painting, or thermoforming.

How to maintain and clean

The quality of a product comes out as high or low once you start using it. High-quality Perspex cut to size will require little maintenance, but when you need to clean your acrylic products, it is important that you follow some simple rules to keep the surface intact and increase the lifespan:

- Start cleaning acrylic by dusting; this operation will remove particles that can scratch the acrylic if you start washing the material right away. Use a soft, damp cloth to remove dust and avoid dry or gritty cloths that can create static electric charge and cause scratches.

- Wash acrylic sheets with a solution of mild soap or detergent and lukewarm water. Apply light pressure using a clean, soft cloth.

- If you need to remove oil, grease, or tar, use solutions such as kerosene, hexane, or aliphatic naphtha;

- Never use the following solutions on your acrylic objects: window cleaning sprays, acetone, gasoline, benzene, lacquer thinner, alcohol, benzene, or carbon tetrachloride. These can damage the surface of the acrylic sheet or weaken the sheet by causing small surface cracks.

How to repair or restore damaged/scratched acrylic

If your Perspex or acrylic surfaces are looking a little worn make sure you are paying attention. Follow these 4 simple points to learn how to improve the look of your acrylic surfaces, acrylic sheets or other acrylic products (also commonly known as Plexiglass or Perspex):

1. Make sure the plastic really is acrylic

A clear plastic may not always be made from acrylic; instead it might be a polycarbonate. If the plastic is polycarbonate, it is will no longer possible to remove the scratches.

2. Remove light scratches from acrylic

You will need acrylic polish, preferably specialist acrylic scratch remover that is designed for industrial use, and grit sandpaper, 800 and 1200 grit. Wet the 800-grit sandpaper and run it over the scratch in a circular motion. Repeat with dry grit paper, and alternate between wet and dry sandpaper. It is normal for your acrylic at this stage to look frosty and to display little scratch marks on it. Next move onto 1200 grit sandpaper and keep rubbing until all scratches have been removed. Finally, dry the area with a soft, dry cotton cloth and apply acrylic polish. The acrylic will look as if it has never been scratched.

3. Remove deeper scratches

Deeper scratches can require a little more effort to remove, but you can still restore your acrylic sheet to an optimal condition. The method is similar to the previous one, with the difference that you need to start with 600 grit sandpaper and afterwards continue with the same process as described above.

4. Polish acrylic to restore its glossy look

Flame polishing is a great way of obtaining the smooth, glossy edges that we all like to see in acrylic cut to size. In order to complete this process, you will need a hydrogen-oxygen torch with a number 4 or 5 tip. Guide the flame over the acrylic edges, but do this very carefully as moving too slowly or too closely to the acrylic will damage it and bubbles will begin to appear in the plastic sheet. Overheating the acrylic can also make it melt, and going too fast can produce a matte aspect from the edges.

Looking for high quality acrylic cut to size? Contact Plastic Online today for a full turn-key service from design to manufacture.

Plastic Online is more than just your average plastic fabrication company – what makes us different is that we produce your plastic from scratch right here on the Gold Coast. We are a privately-owned business operating from our state-of-the-art facilities on the Gold Coast. Plastic Online started in 1991 and we now operate two manufacturing plants and retail sales facilities, one in Burleigh and one in Ashmore.

What makes us different from other plastic fabrication companies?

High-quality products

Reliable customer service

Taking pride in workmanship

Our local Gold Coast business success story (winner of GC Bus Excellence Awards)

A family-owned business that is passionate about everything we do

20+ years’ experience in fabrication and vacuum forming of plastics

Innovative manufacturing facilities

Our advanced cutting technologies to cut, engrave, and form many different materials into various shapes and component products

Wide range of product applications, such as signage, bus and automotive components -to name but just a few.

For your acrylic cut to size needs, including clear Perspex sheet cut to size, contact us today through our website or call us on 0755357444 (Burleigh) / 0755646744 (Ashmore)

#perspexcuttosize #clearperspexsheetcuttosize #acrylicsheetcuttosize #perspexsheetcuttosize #acyliccuttosize

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