#settle in ontario

[othystt]

i doodled this months ago because greg being born and raised in canada is so important to me

[skullhaver]

idk if the anecdotes in my life are indicative of a wider trend, but older people (60+) seem much more interested in smalltalk than younger people (20s-30s). perhaps this is just because older people are lonelier and seek more connections, perhaps this is because young people are busy with more shit to do + more tired from work with less energy to talk. perhaps the scaremongering commentators are somewhat right and technology and pandemic isolation have stunted young people's social skills or whatever.

i like talking to old people so this isn't really a problem for me, but i do wish ppl in their 20s would chat with me about the weather in the elevator sometimes!

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Hiii here's one idea based on the Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang!!!

Martin has a cousin form Croatia that is visiting Canada

She gets introduced to the gang (Mandy and Hamzah) and also the slushys

They all go together to the farm to see the eclipse

Mandy n Martin get one cabin and Hamzah n Y/N another… the whole one bed trope happens 😳

They end up cuddling while talking before sleeping - in the middle of the night he gets awkwardly HARD against her and the smut comes in!!! *cabin fever*🤭

Maybe we should keep it canon that he is a hardcore virgin?!🤨

love ur writing♥️

Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang

Hamzah X Y/N (Fem)

word count: 4k - longer than I expected lol, let me know if you want a pt. 2!!

After spending your whole life in Croatia, the European life was getting boring. You’d often caught yourself daydreaming about a change, about traveling somewhere new, somewhere out of the continent.

The last time your cousins visited, they couldn’t stop bragging about their Canadian life. Martin, in particular, was insufferable with his talk about his YouTube channel. He went on and on about “Slushy Noobz” and how his videos with his friend, Hamzah, were getting more and more attention. But as annoying as his boasting was, it kind of influenced you in a way.

So, when Martin randomly offered to fly you out to Toronto, you didn’t even think twice. The idea of leaving everything familiar behind, even just for a little while was too tempting to pass up.

The moment you spotted the signs written in English and French, it finally settled in: You had just flown a full 12 hours from Croatia to Canada to visit your cousin and his girlfriend.

By the time you checked into your hotel and began to unpack, your phone buzzed with a text from Martin.

Ah, right.

You’d completely forgotten that you agreed to be in one of Martin’s next vlogs. His pitch being “You’re just as stupid as us, the Slushies are gonna love you!”. And somehow, in a moment of weakness you’d said yes.

But what Martin hadn’t mentioned was that he’d booked an Airbnb for everyone to stay in. You sighed, staring at your neatly unpacked suitcase. Tomorrow’s paid-for room was now destined to sit empty while you stayed with your cousin and his friends in whatever far countryside of Ontario he deemed “So Eclipse mukbang coded”.

Oh well. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to making videos. Back when you were both kids, you and Martin used to make YouTube videos together sneaked away into your rooms during family gatherings. They were the kind of chaotic nonsense only 10 to 12-year-olds could conjure up, that’s why years later that channel was wiped off the website, never to be seen again.

Just as you were coming to terms with the Airbnb situation, another text from Martin popped up on your phone. He casually mentioned that Mandy and Hamzah would be joining and that “for the sake of the bit” Martin and Hamzah were gonna share a queen-sized bed while you and Mandy would have to do the same. You sighed, setting your phone down before diving onto the hotel room’s neatly-made bed.

As much as you tried to downplay it, you always enjoyed Martin’s company. Sure, he could be overwhelming at times, but dealing with his shenanigans was mostly fun. The two of you had a sense of unbounded silliness that you shared with no one else. While you usually kept that side of yourself hidden around most people, Martin always brought it out of you. With him, you didn’t feel the need to filter your humor or tone down yourself. It was an unspoken agreement between you two. A family bond of sorts.

-

The next day you met in Martin’s car, which was oddly being driven by his friend Hamzah, and you squeezed into the backseat.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Hamzah.” The brunette said looking at you through the rear view mirror, his thin glasses reflecting your face as you awkwardly waved in response.

From Martin’s description and based on his usual group of friends, you had expected Hamzah to be just as obnoxious. But, to your surprise, he gave off a surprisingly calm vibe. His polite introduction almost catching off guard.

“Yeah. He’s my other half” Martin chimed in grinning as he reached a hand on Hamzah’s thigh only for it to be quickly swatted away.

The two eventually started recording. After a series of exaggerated pouts and baby voices from your cousin, Martin’s girlfriend was reluctantly handed the camera, clearly giving in just to put an end to the obscenity of Martin’s pleads.

As they started talking, you noticed a subtle shift in Hamzah’s demeanor. His voice took on a slightly higher pitch, and he became noticeably more talkative. You understood the concept of putting on a persona, but you couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, he was just as silly as you and Martin, if his videos made his truest self come out.

“So, you’re probably wondering who this is,” Mandy said as the camera flipped to face you. You froze, giving it an awkward deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“And yes, guys,” Martin interrupted from the backseat, leaning into the frame, “She is my girlfriend.”

Mandy gasped, swiveling the camera to capture Martin’s overly confident smirk, which faded fast under her glare. The whole car was quickly filled with an awkward atmosphere until Hamzah broke the silence with a stifled laugh.

“She’s your cousin, Martin, oh my god” She complained, panning the camera back to you with a defeated look on her face as though she was considering being single again. You scrunched your nose back to her, as a way of giving her your condolences.

“I’m Y/N. Martin’s cousin,” You introduced yourself, giving the camera a deadpan look. “And yes, I am unfortunately related to him.”

From the driver’s seat, Hamzah let out a low chuckle. You caught his amused glance in the rearview mirror. You spotted Martin’s pouting at the camera from the corner of your eye.

“So guys,” Martin cut in, clapping his hands together, reverting the audience’s attention back to him. “Right now, we’re on our way to the Airbnb—”

“—Brokeback Mountain Airbnb.” Hamzah interjected dryly, eyes on the road.

“The Brokeback Mountain Airbnb— where we’ll be both sleeping together in the same bed!” Your cousin announced with way too much enthusiasm to the camera. Mandy groaned audibly, leaning back to create as much distance as possible between herself and the camera.

As the drive neared its end, the car turned onto a quiet gravel road. Up ahead, a cozy lodge came into view, the air carrying a blend of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of barn animals, reminding you of the rustic surroundings.

Approaching the entrance of the house, Hamzah pulled out his phone to text the owner.

“Jesus, there’s barely any signal.”

“Hey, get off your phone,” Martin said, his voice teasing. Mandy pointed the camera at him, capturing his exaggerated performance. “Enjoy nature, man.” he added, spinning around dramatically in the air.

That’s when Mandy stopped the recording as Hamzah, too focused on trying to find a way to access the Airbnb, didn’t bother to pay attention to Martin’s antics.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Hamzah muttered after a while, tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I guess we could just start eating.”

You left Hamzah and Martin as they wandered toward two stray chairs they’d found just outside the farm. The camera, Popeyes chicken, and those stupid eclipse glasses in hand.

You and Mandy had agreed to avoid participating in the mukbang and eat in the car earlier. Maybe it was a bit out of spite: you couldn’t help it as the guys stared at you with hunger in their eyes while you devoured your chicken, still insisting they were gonna have to wait until they get to the Airbnb to start the “Mukbang”.

You realized you and Mandy got along better than expected—your shared love for animals and the casual shit-talking behind the guys’ backs bonding you. As you left the kids to play, you decided to take a stroll around the farm, bumping into a tall man with leather gloves and a broom in hand. He introduced himself as the owner and, much to your delight, offered to show you the barn animals. You told him you’d wait for the guys to catch up, and he handed you the house keys before walking off. Both of you giggled at the thought him encountering the two guys hunched over their chicken in the middle of his yard while filming a YouTube video.

Once inside the house, you and Mandy headed to the first bedroom you found. The room was cozy, with a large bed and a homely vibe you both loved. You tossed your bags on the bed and settled in, chatting and making yourselves comfortable.

But as the two of you were discussing about how much money adopting an alpaca would cost you, Mandy began sneezing more and more frequently. She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and you noticed her eyes started to water.

“Mandy, you okay?”

“I don’t know. I might be allergic to something here,” she replied, her voice a bit stuffy. “My throat is itching.”

You looked around, trying to figure out what could be causing the problem. That’s when your eyes landed on the large framed picture above the bed. It was a beautiful floral arrangement, but those colorful flowers were as beautiful as they looked like they were likely to cause an allergic reaction.

“Are you allergic to some type of flower?” you said, pointing above you. “It might be that frame over there.”

Mandy sneezed again, looking miserable. “Ugh, this is so bad.”

Without wasting any time, you helped Mandy pack up her things. “Come on, let’s change rooms.”

You grabbed the keys and led her out, making your way to the second cabin. The other bedroom was much more spacious, you realized it was probably the one the guys booked for themselves to sleep in.

“Oh well. They’re gonna have to take the floral one” You said as you set you things to the side of the bed, taking a seat on the colorful bedsheets. Mandy thanked you, while she got remaining sniffles out with the tissues you gave her.

You were both laying flat on the bed relaxing when the light reflecting into the room began to dim, Mandy tilted her head, noticing it too. Curious, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Peering out, you spotted the two guys who had brought you here, standing behind a camera and exclaiming excitedly at the sky.

“They grow up so fast.” Mandy commented, her eyes darting over the two figures in the distance before walking over to the opposite window, her phone propped up to take a picture of the eclipse happening in front of her.

“Careful, you’re looking at it with no glasses on” you teased, mimicking Martin’s exaggerated tone. Mandy responded with her usual deadpan stare that she usually reserved for your cousin.

Once she finished taking her pictures, you both decided to step out and meet up with the guys. The sky was already fading back to normal as they wrapped up their mukbang. The chairs were deserted, but Martin and Hamzah were still nearby, camera in hand.

“Did you see that, Mandy?” Martin called out enthusiastically walking toward you, his glasses still on, making him look as ridiculous as it was the over-excited energy he greeted his girlfriend with.

“That was actually beautiful, man” Hamzah added, carrying empty Popeyes boxes and a tripod with ease as he started heading back toward the cabins with the rest of you.

You filled them in about the allergy situation, and they quickly agreed to switch rooms. Martin made sure to announce the plan to the viewers, turning the camera back on.

“Okay, so, we got a smaller room for us,” Martin narrated, zooming in on the bed before panning to Hamzah’s unimpressed expression as he scanned the space. “But that’s okay. It’ll bring us even clos—”

His words were abruptly cut off by the anticipation of a loud sneeze, his left hand flying up to his nose as he sniffled. “Damn, big-ass sneeze” Hamzah teased, taking the camera from Martin so he could grab a tissue.

But the sneezing didn’t stop. Each sniffle grew louder and slimier, making Hamzah let out an audible “eugh” as he watched his friend’s mucus drip onto the tissue.

“God, I might be allergic to lilies too” Martin joked weakly, before Mandy demanded he evacuated the cabin. After stepping outside for a while, Martin’s sneezes started to ease, confirming your and Mandy’s suspicions.

“Aw, we’re united by allergies too!” Martin said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Mandy, who, despite being restrained by his hug, let a tiny smirk slip across her usual stoic face.

“Shit, this is complicated,” Hamzah muttered, sighing as he gestured toward you and Mandy“We can’t switch rooms with you again.”

He bit his bottom lip, frowning in frustration, before glancing at you. Silence stretched on as you and Hamzah shared an awkward stare-off, both silently acknowledging the inconvenient situation.

“I’m sorry,” Mandy gave you both an apologetic look as she wiggled out of Martin’s restraint “We could ask for the flowers to get removed…”

But that last sentence hung in the air, heavy with a shared hesitance among all of you.

“It’s fine” You and Hamzah both said at the same time, voices overlapping in different paces but carrying the same tension.

Mandy and Martin didn’t seem to have any objections, leaving you and Hamzah to share a one-bed room.

In the quiet of your cabin, an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah grew as you were settling into the once-again changed room. Even when you were doing something as simple as unpacking your belongings, every movement seemed amplified, making you both extremely aware of each other’s presence. Hamzah glanced over, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“You good with that side?” he asked, motioning to the bed as he set his phone and retainer on the nightstand.

“Oh, yeah.” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. You busied yourself with unpacking your pajamas, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Rummaging sounds came from his side as he fought with the zipper of his backpack, his voice breaking the silence again.

“This your first time in Canada?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him while you finished setting your things on the small wooden vanity. “First time anywhere outside Europe, kinda nervous.”

Hamzah shared a laugh with you, his shoulders easing as the tension in his chest seemed to slowly settle.

“Well, welcome to America, I guess. Though, as an immigrant, I’d advise you to go back when you still have the choice.” Hamzah’s tone remained the same, the last serious remark slipping out with a half-smile, as if it hadn’t been meant to land too heavily.

His hands fumbled with the things in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled receipt and some loose papers before setting it aside with a quick motion.

He then got up and walked around the bed over to your side, stopping in front of the door, something small clutched in his hands. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes but stopping to turn towards you.

“Wanna come outside?” he asked, his gaze catching yours, what seemed like a lighter being shuffled around in hand. His dark eyes lingered a bit, scanning over your face a couple of times, as if searching for something or perhaps just your reaction.

“Sure” you said, your voice steady despite the sudden rush of the moment. Without thinking, you dropped your things, completely unaware that you had left your phone behind.

You followed Hamzah outside, your gaze fixed on the back of his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. The air outside was cool, and the silence between you both felt oddly comfortable.

You found a bench just outside the cabin, the stone wall behind it covered in vines and delicate flowers that made it look like it was straight out of a fairytail. But as Hamzah lit his cigarette, and cloud of smoke curled up into the air, you were pulled out of that very magical feeling.

“Want one?” Hamzah asked, catching your gaze on his cigarette.

You shook your head. “No, thanks,” you replied, your voice almost reflexive.

For a moment, you hesitated, a thought almost slipping from your lips. You were about to say “I stopped that years ago” but quickly shut the thought down. It felt like the kind of thing that might open up a conversation you didn’t feel right to have in that moment. Instead, you let the silence stretch a bit longer, the smoke hanging filling the air you two were sharing.

The sky had softened into deep blue hues, casting everything in muted shadows. Hamzah’s sharp features caught the soft glow of the unfolding moon, you watched the spirals of smoke blown out of his lips drift upward before dissolving into the night.

“I thought I finally stopped, you know,”Hamzah’s low voice broke the silence, a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you, though his gaze seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t meant to get caught. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, its ash tumbling to the ground below.

“Still, I carry a pack in my backpack,” he admitted, his tone hollow. “Guess I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. His eyes dropped to the ground, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, you noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers.

Hamzah caught the way your eyes lingered on his trembling hand. His jaw tensed, and he lifted the cigarette for another drag, faking nonchalance.

“I’m only smoking ‘cause of nerves,” he muttered, the smoke curling from his lips. “This bed situation has been making me a bit…” He trailed off before biting the inside of his cheek. His words swallowed by hesitation.

“It’s hard to stop,” you admitted, your voice low but steady. “I mean, I’ve been there. Quit, started again, quit again… It’s a never-ending cycle.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide, a reflexive need to reassure him colliding with an undeniable sense of relatability. Hamzah caught your gaze from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening, steady and quiet, as if he was carefully holding onto every word. When you fell silent, though, he didn’t look away. His expression seemed to be expectant, like he wasn’t yet ready for you to stop talking.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. “Anxiety is something you have to battle, not cope with.”

The sentence hung in the air, heavier than you intended. Your tone came out too even, you almost worried it sounded cold. But the words were real—every bit of them was something you truly meant, words you wished someone had said to you when you were struggling too.

Hamzah’s silent response should’ve been unnerving, but it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at you, earnest, almost patient, made you feel oddly grounded. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. It wasn’t a defeated one this time, but something warmer, more genuine. “That’s true” he said simply. But it didn’t feel like just an agreement for you, it was an affirmation that every bit of your words actually mattered.

But before you two could add anything more, Martin’s voice cut through the quiet night.

“Hey, we’re about to go eat dinner!” Your cousin exclaimed, walking over to you, car keys jingling in his hand. “You guys coming or…?”

“Just give me the keys, man.” Hamzah groaned as he stood up from the bench, a soft grin peeking through his rough act, swiftly catching the keys thrown his way by Martin.

In the car, you caught Hamzah’s gaze more than once. His eyes shifted between the road and brief glances at you, his steady expression almost as if he were ensuring both the drive and you were under control.

You dined at a Chinese restaurant in the area, despite you and Mandy’s earlier talk about wanting to try Ontario’s traditional country dishes. Hamzah had scoffed at the idea, insisting there was no such thing, and if there was, it wouldn’t be worth tasting.

During your second round of sushi rolls, Martin, mid-attempt to hit the ending scene from “Wicked”’s high notes, accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup. The contents spilling all over your light blue dress. Though the soup wasn’t boiling hot, Hamzah moved quickly to catch the bowl and then proceeded to dab at the stain with tissues while Martin apologized profusely. You laughed it off, even if the damp spot on your stomach left you trembling during the walk back to the car, the chill of Canada’s cold air biting at your wet skin.

Clutching your coat tightly in a futile attempt to warm yourself, you shivered visibly. Hamzah noticed immediately and leaned toward you. “You okay?”

“Just give her your jacket already” Mandy scolded, peering over Martin to shoot Hamzah an annoyed look.

Hamzah shrugged off his jacket without a word, holding it by the shoulders as he hovered it behind you. The awkward silence stretched long enough to make you wonder if you were supposed to laugh or not, but his steady expression made you quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, the jacket settled warmly around you, its length arriving to your thighs.

His hands brushed against your shoulders as he adjusted the coat, patting it into place with a casualness that made you undeniably flustered. But despite the warmth left on the coat from Hamzah, you found yourself longing for the heat of his hands on your shoulders, a thought you tried to brush off throughout the whole walk.

As you made your way back to the lodge, the chilly, pine-scented air wrapped around you, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns decorating the vine-infested walls. The chirping of crickets seemed to sing you a gentle welcome.

“Look at the stars!” Mandy exclaimed, elbowing Martin, a finger pointing up above. The group came to a halt, all turning your heads upward as one.

Above you was a sky so clear and full of stars it was hardly comparable to the light-polluted streets of Toronto. You stood still for a moment, mesmerized by the view, while Martin silently pulled out the camera.

“There’s the Big Dipper” you said while pointing toward a constellation, tracing its shape with your finger. The others squinted, following your gaze. “See? That’s the handle, and there’s the body.”

Hamzah stopped squinting to turn to the camera with a big confident smile, one that practically screamed a stupid joke was about to come out of his mouth.

“Bro, the Big Dipper is what I get at Dave’s Hot Chicken, know what I’m sayin’?”

His terrible attempt at comedy was met with two deadpan stares, as expected, from both you and Mandy. Martin the other hand stifled a laugh, but quickly collected himself, turning the camera around to film himself.

“I don’t know, guys, the only beautiful star I see is the one right next to me.” Martin said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and pulling her close. Mandy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she reached out to rest an arm on his back.

Hamzah groaned, his eyes flicking back to the sky.

“Little Dipper’s right there, right?” He leaned in closer, his gaze following yours, hand extending to point up at the stars. “Though I call ‘em Ursa Minor and Ursa Major. Never heard of Lil’ Dipper.”

Hamzah joked, mocking your knowledge of astronomy, which made you elbow his side in frustration.

“Oh, but I’m sure you know all about Lil Yeat, right?” You shot back, your tone confident.

But you were met with a burst of laughter exploding from him, his dry chuckles paired with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Did you say Lil Yeat?” he gasped breathless.

You rolled your eyes as Hamzah tried to control his laughter, his hand rubbing his face frantically as he struggled to compose himself. He really didn’t have to mock you twice in a row, especially when the first joke was based on something you clearly had more knowledge on, and the second one being about a rapper’s name, one that you really couldn’t cared less about.

Hamzah hadn’t stopped teasing you about it, repeating “Lil Yeat” to Martin, who had the same, in your opinion, exaggerated reaction. The jokes carried on all the way to the cabin, where you two found yourself in after being ditched by the couple, who had conveniently decided they needed some “private time.”

“I’m gonna make you a Yeat fan one day, mark my words” Hamzah declared, locking the door behind him. That teasing smirk he’d been wearing all evening was still firmly in place.

“Can’t wait” you replied dryly, heading straight for the bathroom. You unpacked your cosmetics onto the small, cramped counter and began sorting through your skincare essentials. Just as you settled into your nightly routine, Hamzah started hovering in the doorway, holding a moisturizer and toothpaste. You quickly interjected his request to borrow some of your skincare products, cutting him off with a sharp look, but his insistent nudging came back the moment you pulled out a new product.

“Why not? There’s no way I can fit mine in this tight of a space anyway.” he whined.

“That’s what she said,” you muttered, dabbing your pricey Tatcha moisturizer onto your face.

The night passed quickly as the two of you argued over who had to take a piss the most all the way toplayfully shoving each other to claim the impossibly tiny sink.

When you finally made it to bed, you were relieved to find it wasn’t as small as you’d feared. Though not too spacious, it fit both of you well enough under the heavy blankets.

“Holy shit—your foot!” Hamzah suddenly yelped, jerking his leg away when your icy toes brushed against his calf. His warmth was so inviting, though, that you couldn’t help but inch closer.

Without warning, you extended your leg again, letting your foot rest against what you quickly realized was his thigh.

“Oh my god—“ Hamzah groaned as your heel pressed into his skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away immediately, giving you just enough confidence to push further.

Smirking, you placed your foot completely flat onto his thigh, his body warmth radiating like a heater to the entire sole of your foot.

“You better stop.” he threatened through chuckles, his leg jerking involuntarily as his hand darted out to grab your ankle. You yelped, trying to jerk your leg free, but his hold only tightened, restricting your movement. In a burst of resistance, you pushed forward with more force than you intended.

The sudden motion sent him lurching forward, his chest subtly pressing against your back. You both froze, the laughter still caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of Hamzah’s shorts tickling your thigh.

You quickly turned into a flushed mess, your face heating up as you felt a firm bump against your backside, Hamzah’s breath quickening against your ear.

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 3.8k

♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.

♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.

♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!

No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.

The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.

Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.

It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.

Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.

Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.

──

"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.

"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.

"Not really-"

"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.

A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.

You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.

"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.

He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"

"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.

She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"

"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"

"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."

"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.

"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."

"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"

"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.

As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.

Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.

She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."

"Whoa, he's tall."

"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.

He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.

Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."

He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"

As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.

In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.

Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.

"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.

"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.

As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.

You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.

"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.

Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."

Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.

You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.

"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.

"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.

"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.

In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.

And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.

You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?

"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."

"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.

"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.

You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."

The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.

"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."

The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.

"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.

Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.

"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.

The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.

As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"

With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.

He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.

"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."

You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.

"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."

"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.

"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."

Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.

For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.

His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"

The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.

You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.

But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."

And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."

Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"

Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.

"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."

He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.

With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.

"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."

Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"

You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"

You answered it, "Hey, Brie."

"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."

You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."

"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."

"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."

"Love you."

She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."

"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.

"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.

You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.

As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 1

Benny Cross X Reader A/n: saw Bikeriders yesterday, needless to say I have a new Austin Butler character to obsess over <3 no better soundtrack to Benny Cross breakin' hearts than Zach Bryan. *the poem in this is lyrics from his song 'Letting Someone Go' Word Count: 2253 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, Benny breaking hearts, angst, unhappy ending

What you had done to deserve Benny was beyond you. After all, you’d always tried to be a good person. Tried to do the right thing, to treat other people well. So who had you wronged so mightily as to deserve the torture that was Benny Cross?

“Hey. Hey! I’m talkin’ here!”

Sheila snapped at you, wrenching you out of your own miserable head. You dragged your gaze off of Benny, playing pool in the corner, and back to your friend. 

“Sorry, Sheils,” you mumbled. She rolled her eyes at you as you took a deep gulp from your Budweiser. 

“You’re still draggin’ ass about that man, aren’t ya?” She nodded unabashedly towards Benny, raising an eyebrow at you in question. You wanted to sink into the dirty floorboards beneath you, just get swept away in the sewer pipes or water table or whatever the fuck was below this personal hell you’d found yourself in. 

You shrugged, gulping down more beer in the hopes that it might dull the ache in your chest. 

“He ain’t worth it, hunnie.” 

You fixed Sheila with a hard stare. She shook off your glare, lighting her cigarette and blowing a plume of smoke up into the rafters. 

“I’m just sayin’, there’s plenty of guys ‘round here for you to shack up with. Benny’s just a loose cannon is all, who cares if he’s off ya.” 

You drank until your beer was empty. Your head was beginning to swim, but unfortunately the booze wasn’t touching the sadness that had sent you to the bottle in the first place. You stood up from your chair, pushing back from the table with a loud and clumsy clatter. No one really noticed over the thumping bass of the jukebox or the din of the crowd. You walked over to the bar, trading in your two empty bottles for two fresh ones. Zipco eyed you curiously from his usual seat at the back corner of the bar, but you refused to acknowledge him. Last thing you needed was another friend trying to cajole you out of your heartbreak. 

By the time you came back to Sheila, Wahoo and Corky had plunked down on either side of her. Probably trying to get her into bed, you thought darkly. And they’d likely succeed, based on how she was batting her eyes up at them. Usually, you welcomed the company of the Vandals, but tonight you found you could hardly stand them. Not necessarily that you wanted to be alone, just left alone. Sitting by yourself and knocking back an obscene amount of beer as you stared daggers into the back of Benny’s head was all you were really game for tonight. 

Rather than join the others, you swerved and walked towards the back of the bar, past where Johnny was sitting with Brucie, Gail, and Cal. The light was broken back here, and the shadows suited your dark mood quite nicely. You settled into a chair, tucking your legs up underneath you as you cracked open one of the new bottles and gulped down another greedy mouthful. Finally by yourself for the moment, you let your mind run wild over the last few weeks.

Where had it gone wrong? What did she have that you didn’t? And why the hell did you care so much, while Benny clearly cared so little? 

After all, it’s not like you and Benny were anything. You’d been sleeping together for a couple months, sure; but that was just the lifestyle. You’d been raised up on the back of your daddy’s bike. He was a founding member of the Red Devils of Hamilton, Ontario; so that made you practically royalty in the MC world. You knew what it was to be a Vandal before they’d even existed as an idea in Johnny Davis’ head. Hell, you practically taught Johnny everything you knew about how to run a successful club. 

That was probably why Benny hurt so damn much, you realized. You’d never admit it out loud, but this whole thing was ass backwards. You were the one that was supposed to run around and break the biker boys’ hearts. You were the one that wasn’t supposed to get attached, the one who would cut bait and run at the first sign of feelings. You were definitely not the kind of girl who’d get hung up on some loser just because he rode a nice chopper. 

But instead, Benny Cross had gone and played you at your own game. When you’d come back to Chicago to check on Johnny Davis’ pet project, you hadn’t planned to stay more than a few days, maybe a week. You had your sights set on California, on a small rancher high up in the mountains outside Crescent City. 

But then you’d met Benny. Benny with those piercing blue eyes, that gentle pillow talky voice, and the most gorgeous set of lips you’d ever kissed. He’d had you panting after him like a puppy dog within three days. A few days had turned into a few weeks, which had stretched into a few months. Now, you were still here, looking to spend your second Christmas in the cold. And unlike the last one, this Christmas would be a lonely one.

You’d been tangled up in Benny for the better part of a year now. He still drove you just as wild as that first time you’d seen him. Even from this far away, you could hardly stand to look at him without squirming. 

The first eight or nine months had been good. Maybe not great, but damn good. You’d wanted it to be fucking terrific, Lord knows you wanted that more than anything. But something in Benny just wouldn’t thaw for you. He was exactly the type of man that every other hard biker tried to be. He didn’t care about much, except his club. Didn’t show feelings for the simple fact that he didn’t have many, at least not the deep kind that you were desperate for. He was a detached, unbothered person. At first, you’d mistaken that for easy-going. It certainly made getting to know him nice and easy. But after nine or ten months, the edges of your relationship had started to turn brittle. While you were lying awake at night, daydreaming about getting a house together and getting married and maybe a baby or two, Benny was out doing the same old shit. Drinking, fighting. Generally avoiding anything that required commitment or persistence. Just livin’ life in the breeze.

But things had really taken a turn when she showed up. You could remember the night so clearly. It had been late fall, maybe two months ago. She’d come in looking like a misfit, all prim and proper in her white jeans and pink sweater, with her hair done up like Jackie Kennedy and her perfect eyeliner. Way too shiny and sweet for this kind of crowd. The guys had, predictably, gobbled her up with their eyes. No one more so than Benny.

The moment was seared in your memory: she was looking at the door, Benny was looking at her, and you were looking at Benny. Next thing you knew, Benny was gone, racing after her into the November air. You’d watched from the foggy window as she’d climbed on the back of his bike and they’d rode off down the street, all the while the club was cheering like it was fucking homecoming or something. Never mind that you were literally gutted, your heart trampled and lying like a used up bag on the floor of the bar. 

Benny had come back the next night, all hang-dog and apologies. All “I’m sorry baby, that was wrong” and “I dunno what came over me” and “I promise, it was nothing”. Both of you knew those were all lies, but only one of you really wanted to believe them. You were clinging on tight to the fading dream that was Benjamin Cross, meanwhile he was racing headfirst into the future that was Kathy Bauer. 

She kept coming around after that. That’s how you really knew that you were going to lose him. If that pretty little minx had kept her distance, then maybe Benny would have really been able to close that door. But she couldn’t. And, as much as you hated her for it, you couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t blind. She saw the same things in Benny that you did, you could tell just from looking at her expression when he was around. She had stars in her eyes, same as you. 

At first, Benny had put on a pretty good show of sticking by you. Even though the two of you weren’t officially anything, there was a code in the club. Fellas stuck by their gals, and vice versa. And, just by virtue of how long you and Benny had been, well, how long you’d been you and Benny, you were owed some measure of loyalty. 

But after a week or two, Benny was straying. Kathy would come into the bar and Benny would get this tiny smile. He’d find excuses to sit near her. Then it turned into talking to her. Then it turned into talking with her alone. 

Then he’d finally said the words you’d been dreading. 

“Baby, we gotta talk.”

No no no no no, you were screaming inside as you calmly sat down at the kitchen table of the small apartment you'd set yourself up in. Your hands were shaking, so you’d played with the nearest coffee mug until you’d chipped your nails. 

“Listen, darlin’, I… well, I’m not too good at this sorta thing.”

One tear had slipped out. You’d practically smacked yourself in a hurry to get rid of it. You couldn’t stand how upset he had you. 

“Just say it, Benny.”

Benny had tried to grab your hands from across the table - for what purpose, you couldn’t imagine. But you’d pulled away from him, your eyes burning. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to find someone else, baby. I swear. I just… it just… happened.”

Too many tears to wipe away now. You were squeezing the coffee mug so tightly in your palms that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.

“It’s Kathy, isn’t it?”

Benny hadn’t said anything, just nodded. 

“And you’re moving in with her, aren’t ya?” 

To add insult to injury, before Benny even had the guts to properly break things off with you, he’d adopted a bad habit of sleeping on the back of his bike in front of her house. At least, that was what Cal told you. After you’d practically threatened to cut his throat with your blade. Not that you were much of a threat, but Cal had a soft spot for you and you knew it. You weren’t afraid to press on the soft spots when needed. 

Another single nod from Benny. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not.

“So… you’re done with me then, yea? Is that what you’re saying?”

Another. Fucking. Nod.

And so, that was the end of it. A fitting ending, all things considered. Benny, quiet as the grave, just nodding away the entire future you’d dreamt up for yourself at his side. 

Unable to figure out what to say or how to feel, you just shrugged and let the tears slip off your jaw and plunk down onto the plastic checkerboard tablecloth. 

“Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”

You wished you’d have added some harsher words at the end, leave a little sting on him, but you didn’t trust your voice not to crack. So it had been your turn to stay quiet while Benny packed up his things - a shockingly small amount, you realized, as it took him less than three minutes to shove them all into a pillowcase. 

The final dagger had been when he’d hesitated at the door, looking back over his shoulder at you. You were exactly where he’d left you: sitting at the kitchen table, crying, that coffee mug turning over and over in your shaking palms. He’d turned back and walked over to lay a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead. The most affection that man had ever shown you had been in the goodbye that he’d made you say for him. It was an irony that you didn’t think you’d ever get over. 

As you sat in that dark, lightless corner of the bar, watching Benny shoot pool with Big Jack and Cockroach, Kathy leaning against a high-top table a few feet away and beaming at him, you thought about some ridiculous poem you’d heard once. If someone had put a pistol to your head, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them where you heard it or who wrote it or even what the rest of the poem was about. Just one line came floating back to you out of the back of your mind:

One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.

**Read part 2 here! **Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[lovelytsunoda]

sleigh ride // lance stroll

summary: christmas has never been his holiday. but she adores it, and he wants to make this christmas one that she won't forget.

pairing: lance stroll x fiancee!reader

warnings: marriage proposals, fluffy lance, it's super duper cheesy, lance quotes emily henry's "beach read", where can i get a lance

the snow fell down on niagara falls in scattered flurries, the waterfalls the town used as their namesake almost frozen solid in motion as they spilled into lake ontario. the sun was setting, with niagara-on-the-lake doused in an orange-pink glow as the couple ran out of the b'n'b, giggling hand in hand.

"lance, where are we going?" she giggled, mitten-clad hand clutched in her boyfriend's as he pulled her along the snowy sidewalk.

"just trust me, but you'll need to close your eyes." lance stroll insisted, turning to face her, pressing his warm lips to her rapidly cooling forehead. "we're almost there."

"if you say so." she chortled, closing her eyes and following lance as he guided her, gentle flakes falling against her knitted hat.

the breeze was cold, cutting through the many layers that they both wore as lance urged her forwards. her mind was swimming with all the possibilities lance could have come up with, but she couldn't settle on any.

christmas had never been his thing. he was raised jewish, and she had celebrated hannukah with his family before, so why would he celebrate christmas anyways? the answer was simple: because she enjoyed it. he could convince himself to embrace a little more of the christmas spirit than normal when she was around, when she insisted on putting that stunning tree in their living room, or buying elf ears for their dog.

"okay, you can open your eyes now."

she opened her eyes, instantly covering her mouth to stop the delighted scream from coming out and scaring the horses. sitting in front of her were two stunning black mares, towing a snow-white sleigh, decorated with white glitter and snowflakes, a plush throw blanket thrown over the bench in the back.

"lance, this is incredible!"

lance beamed, glowing under the streetlamps as he pulled open the metal gate door. "milady." he giggled, reaching for her gloved hand to help her into the sleigh.

she curled into him on the bench, lance fluffing the blanket out behind and over their bodies before the well-dressed man sat in the driver's seat of the sleigh flashed them a smile, and the horses began their slow trot down the cobblestones.

she slipped her gloves off, taking lance's cold hand in hers as she played with his fingers, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. her breath crystallized in the air, snowflakes falling into the sleigh and promptly melting on the winter mats on the ground.

lance himself was fidgety, the tiffany and co. box burning a hole in the pocket of his parka. he was so anxious about asking that he'd almost done it that morning, over coffee and croissants at breakfast.

but she deserved more than that. she deserved something meaningful, something special (not that there was anything wrong with a little bit of privacy and keeping it lowkey, he just wanted to have a great proposal story to pass down to their kids. after y/n told him that her father proposed to her mother by saying 'we need to talk', he vowed that his proposal would be special).

she turned her head, pressing a frosty kiss to his warm skin. "i love you, lance."

he smiled, burying his nose in the top of her knitted hat. " i love you more, pretty girl. i've got another surprise for you, if you're up for it."

she looked up at him, hair falling in front of her face, skin pink from the cold as she smiled back at him. "what kind of surprise?"

"you'll see. it's just around this corner, love."

the sleigh pulled up to a small gazebo, cords of string lights wrapped around the weathered wooden beams to light up the small space, now that the sun was behind the clouds, the last dregs of daylight hovering in the space between night and day.

lance got to his feet, opening the sleigh gate before the driver could even get down from his perch. with her long fleece scarf hanging down to her knees, she daintily descended from the sleigh, hand in hand with her boyfriend as he led her towards the gazebo.

the snow beneath their feet was dusted with deep purple rose petals, some small tea light candles on the steps. as they got closer to the gazebo, she could see the small lightbox letters, lit up in a warm, soft yellow as they got closer, spelling out two words.

marry me.

"oh, lance." she breathed, at a loss for words as she anxiously wringed her hands.

she could hear the wooden boards creaking behind her as lance sunk down to one knee, reaching into his pocket for the turquoise box. he rested the box on his knee, frozen hands shaking as he pulled it open.

"i really should have thought this through a little better. i'm cold as shit." he giggled nervously. "but i know christmas means a lot to you, and i wanted to make this as special as i could."

she gasped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as she saw the ring: a single princess-cut diamond resting on a silver band, two small pink gemstones holding the center gem in place.

"y/n, i'm head over heels for you, and i always have been. every morning i wake up next to you, and i think, this could all go away. the racing, the money, the fame, all of it. but as long as i had you by my side, i wouldn't care. as long as i had you, i'd be happy. because you make me so happy, y/n. you remind me of all the good in the world, all the reasons to keep going. in the words of emily henry, yes, i've read your romance books, 'when i watch you sleep, i feel overwhelmed that you exist'. man, she got that right. i feel overwhelmed with love, and with care. and some days, i wonder why you chose me when you could have had any man you wanted. y/n y/'l/n. pretty girl. love of my life." lance sniffled, wiping at the tear that was threatening to fall into his stubble. "will you marry me?"

"yes!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the clearing as she started to giggle. "yes, of course i'll marry you." her eyes started to sting, tears pricking the corners of her vision, so overcome with love for man on his knees in front of her.

she sunk to her knees as well, the frost on the gazebo cold against the knees on her jeans. she clasped lance's hands in her own, pulling him in for a gentle kiss before he slipped the ring onto her finger, foreheads resting against each other.

"thank you so much for saying yes. i can't think of a day in the foreseeable future that i don't want to spend with you by my side."

"oh, lance." she laughed through her tears of joy. "don't make me cry."

"i'm not trying to, my love." he laughed, tears pricking at his eyes. "god, i just love you so much."

"i love you more." she laughed, tucking her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before glancing down at the sterling silver on her finger.

lance kissed her hairline, holding her close and breathing in her scent.

if this was every day for the rest of his life, then he was wondering why he'd waited so long to ask.

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @lorarri @httpiastri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @oconso @thatsdemko @silversainz

[little-boyyyy-blog]

back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

[todaysdocument]

"The Flower and I" by Ralph Kuznitzki

Record Group 48: Records of the Office of the Secretary of the InteriorSeries: Central Classified FilesFile Unit: 1-5 Refugees (Pt. 1)

This is an English composition written by Ralph Kuznitzki, a 15 year old refugee living in the Fort Ontario refugee camp in Oswego, New York.

The flower and I

The fresh and rather cold morning breeze blew directly in my face, making my ears and the and the tip of my nose, red. I had passed the houses which protected me against it, and now I was crossing a wet lawn. I hurried to pass it. But when I arrived at the next block of houses, I noticed that a small part of it had come along with me. It was stuck in my shoes, that small flower. After having picked it up, I was about to throw it away, when I suddenly came to think of a strange fact. How greatly likely was the flower's life with mine! It may be a stupid idea, but there is something true with it.

Born far away, it stayed in it calm life only for a short time. Where was it born? I don't know. It didn't answer me when I asked it. In its youngest years the wind of nature brought it and the tornado of Nazis brought me away from our mother place. Many things we saw; we passed many strange spots on this earth, I imagine. Then comes the difference between our lives. After a long time it found its place, where to settle down, where to stay for all its life, till the cruel feet of a boy came to take it away. I found a place too; but will this place be my fatherland, my place where I can settle down, develop and finally -- die? I hope so, because I like it and feel the liberty which is here, as the medicine for my illness. The illness of terror and supressed [sic] nights of a man And then when the foot was bones will strike me, I'll be satisfied with my life and my work.

The shrill blast of the sirens awoke me from my dreams. I didn't throw the flower away. I kept it and now it hangs on the wall of my room, as a symbol of hope for a home for myself and a fatherland for me and my descendants.

Robert Kuznitzki

[anotherjheastan]

This Will Be Our Year - A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley Fanfic

CW: suggestive, kissing, mentions sex, implied sexual activity, fade to black

Chapter 11 | Chapter List

Chapter 12: Victory Laps

September 23, 2024 - Ontario, California

Jey had a busy weekend so they didn’t get to hang out. Rhea checked in with her family and friends when she wasn’t relaxing. Jey almost forgot to get plane tickets to California so they weren’t sitting together, but managed to be on the same flight. Tonight was his championship match against Bron Breakker for the Intercontinental Title. They would be rooming together. And Rhea was looking forward to potentially doing more than sleeping.

Rhea spotted him soon after she arrived at the arena. He was standing outside, pacing and wringing his hands. 

“Hi,” Rhea said as she approached. 

He smiled at her, looking relieved. He walked over to meet her and hugged her tight. 

“What’s wrong?” Rhea asked. 

“I’m nervous,” he said.

“Don’t be. That title is yours,” Rhea said, touching his face. 

“I know I can beat him,” Jey said. “But what if something goes wrong?”

“It won’t,” Rhea said. “You’ve got this, Jey.”

He started to lean in, but hesitated, looking around first. 

Rhea smiled and leaned in. “I don’t care.”

Jey smiled and kissed her. They held each other close. They separated, foreheads touching and arms still entangled. 

“Get a room!,” Damian yelled. 

Rhea and Jey burst out laughing. Rhea turned and waved at Damian.

*** 

Rhea had settled backstage to watch the match after yeeting during Jey’s entrance. She sat next to Damian. She had on her outfit from earlier: black corset, black pants, and black boots. Her eye makeup was purple around the eyes and blue on her eyelids for Jey. She watched, accidentally digging her nails into Damian’s skin during tense moments.

“Take it easy!” Damian reminded her, gently removing her hand from his arm. Bron had just kicked out. She thought it was over. 

“It’s close,” Rhea said. “Too close.”

“He’s got this,” Damian said. 

Rhea nodded. 

Jey hit Breakker with a superkick outside of the ring, stopping Breakker’s spear. He hit Breakker with a spear when he was up again. He dragged Breakker back to the ring and hit him with a final Uso splash. One, two, three. Ding, ding, ding. Jey did it! He had won the Intercontinental Championship and his first singles gold. 

Rhea and Damian went wild backstage, screaming and jumping up and down. Rhea got teary-eyed watching Jey get emotional. She and Damian tracked him down as he was making his way to the locker room. She squeezed him with all her strength, almost knocking the belt of his shoulder. Damian patted him on the back. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Rhea said, beaming. 

He smiled. “Thanks, boo.”

He told her to go on to the hotel. He was gonna get cleaned up there. She headed out with Damian and put the champagne bottle she had bought earlier on ice. She threw her blue and white YEET shirt on. The pizza arrived just before Jey. When Jey came in, Rhea played his music. Jey smiled and held up his title. They ate and drank champagne. After a call from Kayden congratulating Jey, Damian headed to his room.

Jey hugged her from behind and kissed her neck. She smiled.

“You got to freshen up,” Rhea said, holding his arms against her. “Let me freshen up.” 

Jey kissed her neck some more and Rhea stifled a moan. “You smell good to me.” 

Rhea giggled. “I’ll be quick.” 

Jey gently grabbed her chin and turned her face to him. He kissed her and sighed. 

“Okay, boo.” 

Rhea took a shower and put lotion on. She looked over her body a few times, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She put on the YEET shirt and nothing else. She stepped out of the bathroom and looked at Jey. His eyes were low, but he was awake. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and was sitting up in bed. He looked over at her and his eyes widened. He looked down to wear the shirt that was just barely covering her in the front. He turned off the TV and pulled the covers back. 

“Come here,” he said. 

Rhea walked directly to him instead of going to the other side of the bed. Her heart was pounding. She leaned down and kissed him, shivering as she felt his hands slide up her thighs and under her shirt to her waist. 

“You sure?” he asked quietly, pulling the covers away from his lap. He was still wearing his underwear.

Rhea nodded. 

“I don’t have any condoms,” Jey said. 

“I do,” Rhea said, smiling. 

Jey smiled and pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her lips and went to her neck. Rhea moaned and slipped her fingers into his hair.

“Can I take this off?” Jey asked, tugging on her shirt. 

“Yes,” she breathed. 

He took her shirt off and tossed it to the floor. He looked her over, admiring her. 

“Lie down,” he said, his voice low.  

Rhea pressed up against his chest as she shuffled over him to lie down. He smirked. She looked at him as she settled onto the bed. He pulled off his boxers and Rhea’s eyes widened, her breathing ragged with anticipation. He leaned down and kissed her, not lying on top of her. She tried to pull him closer, but he broke the kiss and kissed her collarbone and chest. Rhea gripped the sheets as he went lower and lower, watching her intently. 

***

Rhea heard knocking and Jey mumbling “oh shit,” as she slowly woke up. She sat up as Jey quickly threw on his joggers and ran to the door. 

She reached for her phone and rubbed her eyes. It was 11 am. Rhea sat up. 11 am?! They were supposed to be long gone by then. They had missed their flights. She read her texts from Damian. 

Damian: oh y’all aren’t coming downstairs?

Damian: y’all okay? Still sleeping?

Damian: I didn’t see you at the airport. 

Damian: I’m getting on the plane. Text me when you’re up.

Rhea sighed and Jey came back to the bed. 

“I have to call downstairs to see if we can get another night,” Jey said. “And then I have to see when the next flight is.” 

Rhea smiled, thinking about why they had woken up late in the first place: round two in the middle of the night. Rhea had woken up to get some water and accidentally woke Jey up, breaking his embrace. One thing led to another. Round one had been slow to start, considerate. But round two was intense, filled with an urgency like long-distance lovers reuniting. 

She looked at him and bit her lip. He smiled. 

“Behave. We gotta figure some stuff out first,” he said. He stood up and walked over to the hotel phone. 

“And after?” Rhea asked, lying down.

Jey licked his lips, looking away from her as he dialed the front desk. He looked back at her. “We’ll see.” 

She smiled.

They got the room for another night. The next flight available didn’t leave until 6 pm. They ordered breakfast and ate in the room. Rhea showered and got dressed. She texted Damian while Jey was in the shower.

Rhea: Hi Damian! Yeah we overslept 😅

Damian: I bet. Long night huh? 

Rhea: Something like that 🤭

Damian: Y’all got a flight?

Rhea: yeah, leaving at 6 pm

Damian: safe travels, hermana

Rhea: Gracias, hermano

After they were all packed up, they checked out and headed to the airport. They ate lunch at the airport, struggling to keep their hands off each other. Some fans had spotted them—some taking photos from a distance, others asking for pictures. They took a few photos before settling at their gate. They snuck some kisses there. 

“Watch us be on Twitter tonight,” Rhea said, giggling and shaking her head.

“I don’t care,” Jey said, stealing another kiss.

They shut everything and everyone else out. They focused on their own little world until they heard the boarding call. They got on the plane and settled in for the flight. 

When they arrived at Rhea’s house, she told him to stay and he nodded. He kissed her, pulling her close. She pulled away, grinning. Rhea grabbed his hand and pulled him to her bedroom.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[chanelle-lize]

On Thursday, February 20, 2025, I got hit by a freight train.

Let me explain…

When I saw @wizard-loving-wizard post that Aabria was teaching a free masterclass in Hamilton, Ontario, I was crushed.

I live in Montreal, Quebec, which is a seven-hour drive from Hamilton. Round trip tickets would have cost me ~$200, which would have been perfectly affordable if it wasn’t for the dire financial situation I’ve been in for the last several months. I felt like I was missing out on a dream come true because I was just too much of a fuck up to reach out and take it.

I retreated to my Aabria appreciation post on Discord and vented about my inability to attend the event. Fifteen minutes later, a fellow Aabria fan, who I will refer to as “Ruby” replied, “Tell me how much it costs to get there and back- I will sponsor you.”

I almost immediately refused. They explained that they wanted to pay my way as a birthday present for themself, because they really wanted to see me follow my dreams. So, I decided to look up the current ticket prices. I did my research and learned the most efficient route was to take a bus from Montréal to Toronto, then from Toronto to Hamilton. Four tickets, round trip. Then, I registered to get my ticket for the masterclass, just to make sure I didn’t secure bus tickets only to find that the class had sold out.

I asked around some local social media groups to see what options I had and found someone who was looking to trade a bus ticket from Montreal to Toronto on the exact date of the event. They ended up trading me the ticket in exchange for a faux fur blanket that I forgot I had. Ruby congratulated me for snagging one of the tickets, but reminded me that their offer was still available.

I kept looking, in the hopes that I would eventually find a way to get from Toronto to Hamilton, and then back home again without having to accept freely-given financial support (no, I don't have a therapist, why do you ask?), but I had no such luck. I felt like I was on a perpetual roller coaster of hope and disappointment, but every time I got discouraged, I hummed “Impossible” from Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella to myself – the Brandy and Whitney Houston rendition, specifically – and kept going.

On Wednesday, I had to accept that I probably would not be finding any more bus tickets on my own, so I thanked Ruby for reiterating the offer and told them how much I needed for the remaining three tickets. They sent me $200 regardless.

I bought the rest of the tickets and left for Toronto at 6:30 am Thursday morning.

On the way to Toronto, I got a Spill notification (Spill is a Black-owned social media app) reminding me about the weekly “Advanced Audacity” lecture series I had signed up for. It suddenly hit me that, last Thursday, I had said that I simply didn't have the funds to achieve my dreams. Naya, the audacity coach running the lecture series (yes, audacity coach) asked me what dream I didn’t have the funds for, and I said “becoming a performer/storyteller in the TTRPG space.” And there I was on a bus to McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario to watch Aabria Iyengar teach a D&D storytelling masterclass, exactly seven days later.

Wild.

I got to the venue safely and settled in for the show. It was phenomenal, unsurprisingly. Aabria was joined on stage by four local D&D players, one of whom was a Black woman named Renée. Aabria began by giving a short talk on storytelling within the context of D&D (and the sociocultural implications that come with it), before spending the rest of the show DMing a brilliantly thrilling one-shot. I took notes throughout the entire event and had a lot of fun writing speculative marginalia about the thought-process behind her storytelling choices and jotting down the insights she shared as she paused to explain why she was doing something the way she was doing it.

I was also particularly struck by Bubbles, Renée's unsettlingly over-friendly Tiefling character. At some point, I leaned over to @wizard-loving-wizard (who I met and got to sit next to at the event) and whispered, “Bubbles is the Tabby to my Evan Kelmp.”

After the show, Aabria sat on the edge of the stage to chat with audience members, and my wildest dream of being able to nerd out about storytelling with Aabria Iyengar… was immediately shattered when she looked over at me and I reacted like Troy Barnes meeting LeVar Burton. I broke eye contact and starred at the ground, absolutely furious with myself. Thankfully, I remembered that I wanted to ask Aabria to record a video message for Ruby, so I did end up meeting her.

I told her about the blanket–bus ticket trade and Ruby's generosity, and then I tried to ask for a video message, but I just said "Um," forever until she asked me if I wanted to send Ruby something. I jammed my phone into her hand, and she said, "Oh, I'm doing it?" and I said, "I DUNNO," to which she replied, "No, we're all in this now!" turned into a selfie stick, and recorded a minute long heartfelt message for Ruby with WLW and I just kinda hanging out in the background. Then she asked me if I wanted to take a photo with her. After the photo, she said something that I cannot remember, but I remember saying, "I am not here," in response, to which she replied, "No, don't dissociate!" And then I dissociated, and I don't remember what happened between that and saying goodbye, but I do remember that after I said goodbye, I said, “Flee the scene!” and legged it.

So, I didn’t exactly get to discuss any of the notes I had taken, but I did meet Aabria Iyengar, and that alone is a dream come true, even though I became a version of myself nobody has ever seen before and I hope to God no one ever sees again, because, what the fuck… was that.

Anyways.

WLW couldn’t stay for the after party but kindly dropped me off. I was starting to get pretty tired, and I was disappointed that I didn’t get to properly talk to Aabria, so I didn’t actually want to go anymore, but I also didn’t want to give up on having the opportunity to have a conversation about storytelling with somebody. So, I went inside.

I spent a long time just kind of standing in a corner by myself until I worked up the courage to approach someone else who was also just kind of off to the side, and we ended up striking up a conversation. We chatted about the show, and as we spoke, I slowly came to the realization that most of the people who came out to the masterclass were motivated by an interest in D&D.

Now, this sounds like a dumb realization to make after traveling for seven hours to attend a D&D masterclass, but it was an important one, because I don’t give that big of a fuck about D&D. I’ve never played a single TTRPG in my goddamn life. Would I? Sure. But D&D had nothing to do with how desperately I wanted to go to that masterclass. I was drawn in by something else.

Last Thursday, Naya the audacity coach said that one of the ways we think ourselves out of our dreams is by assuming that everybody would be doing what we want to be doing if it was something that anybody could just up and do. But that assumption is false. Everybody has different dreams. Not everybody wants to be doing what you want to do. And I looked around the room and saw Renée on the other side and realized we were the only Black women there.

I didn’t feel quite up to breaking the ice, but thankfully my conversation partner wanted to go ask Renée what Bubbles’ class was, because she had the other three pretty much figured out. So we walked over and joined the conversation. Bubbles turned out to be a druid, and the reason she was hard to identify was because Renée did not take a single combat action during the entire one-shot and Bubbles was still a fascinating and engaging character nonetheless. I’m not exactly sure where the conversation went from there, but I remember getting really excited because Renée said Bubbles’ whole “unaware that she’s freaking people out by being too friendly” vibe really resonated with her, and I excitedly told her that it really resonated with me too, and then there was this lovely moment where Renée started talking about how much harder it is to be a weirdo when you’re already a visible minority, and she started a phrase that ended with “when all they see is,” and she looked me right in the eyes and paused for the tiniest fraction of a second before saying, “sharp teeth and horns.” I already knew how common it is for a Black person to play as Tieflings, but using a Tiefling as a literal metaphor in order to talk about your experiences as a Black person while physically, not figuratively, but literally standing in a predominantly-white space and simultaneously protecting that expression of self from getting hijacked and repurposed as a teachable moment for the benefit of everybody else in the room but you absolutely blew my mind.

I have strongly identified with the song "In My Own Little Corner" since the first time I heard Brandy sing it as Cinderella, but "Impossible" didn't resonate with me until I watched the first episode of “Burrow’s End” on YouTube and Aabria became my Storytelling Fairy Godmother. Since then, I’ve been hearing “Impossible” playing from some vague, untraceable location in the distance that I had no real hope of finding. But, on Monday, it crystallized to a single point over Hamilton, Ontario, and on Tuesday, it started getting louder, like the horn of an approaching freight train, and it kept getting louder, until Thursday, February 20, 2025, the freight train hit, and I’m different now.

Fuck it, I’m different now.

It was Impossible for me to go to the masterclass, so somebody else sent me. And it was Impossible for me to achieve my dreams because if they were possible, everybody else would be doing it too, but I just sat in a room with 300+ people who don’t want what I want, so…

I’ve never been fired, but I did find out that I’d used up all my student funding last semester in the middle of midterms when I was too stressed to do anything about it, and I haven’t been able to pay rent since September. So, fuck it! I have the audacity. This is my Doechii moment now.

I’m going to go to a bunch of studios and ask if they have any internships open and ask questions, and by that I mean I’m going to connect with the Renées and the Aabrias, and all the other Black women storytellers, and talk to them about creating, and playing, and performing, and critiquing games, and stories, and characters, and worlds.

I’m going to message Renée and tell her I really enjoyed talking with her about her unique approach to gameplay and I’m going to ask if she’s free to chat more about it.

I’m even going to tag @quiddie and not even panic a little bit about it. Sup prof, lecture was sick, do you do… office hours…?

Anyways, that’s the story of how I got hit by a motherfucking freight train.

[flemingology]

you're a fleming now ─ jessie fleming x reader

in which: you meet jessie's parents

warnings: bit suggestive at some point, nothing too explicit bar some making out and wandering hands

wc: 2.3K

a/n: reminder that my requests are (for now) open! feel free to send in anything and I'll see what I can do :)

"What if they don't like my accent", you sighed, frowning deep. You would've missed the slight smirk on your girlfriend's face if you hadn't looked over at her from the passenger seat.

Having gotten used to being the only one with a British accent when tagging along with Jessie's Canada or Portland teammates, you've grown accustomed to the banter that came with it, you and your accent often the butt of their jokes.

"Babe, please," she started. You hadn't realized you were absentmindedly plucking at your lips until she grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your face. "They're not gonna dislike you because of your British accent." She squeezed your hand affectionately and placed it in her lap while her other hand was expertly manoeuvring the steering wheel.

Jessie and you had been dating for a couple months now, and the Canadian thought it was a good time for you to meet her parents. You'd talked about it for a couple weeks, waiting for an opportunity to open up. When Jessie's mum called last weekend and invited her over for a family weekend in Ontario, and it lined up with her weekend off, you knew it was the right moment.

Jessie decided not to tell her parents that you would tag along, she wanted you to be the "surprise of the weekend", in her words. She thought it was a cute gesture, but it didn't help settling your nerves at all. What would her mum think when a complete stranger suddenly turned up at her doorstep?

Nerves aside, the journey went by quickly. Jessie and you had taken a plane in Portland and hired a car in Ontario to complete the rest of the itinerary. Besides the rush hour traffic that you found yourselves in at the moment, clock hitting 5pm as you were nearing the destination, everything ran fairly smoothly.

You must've gotten lost in thought a bit longer than intended, because when Jessie announced you were 5 minutes away you didn't feel like you were ready at all, which she noticed.

She rested her hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down affectionately, before giving it a light squeeze.

"You're gonna be fine baby, I promise. My parents just want me to be happy. You make me happy. They'll love you, just as much as I love you. What's not to like about you? Don't talk to me about your accent again."

A light chuckle escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the headrest. She had a point, you knew Jessie was happy in your relationship, more than satisfied - on all aspects.

Jessie pulled up to her childhood home and you saw how her eyes twinkled upon seeing the place where she grew up all those years ago. You couldn't help but smile at her excited expression, and you tried to settle your nerves a bit. You knew how much this meant to her, and as much as you could go on about your nervosity, she must have been be nervous too.

Jessie came out to her parents a while ago, so they were aware that their daughter liked girls, but she had never brought anyone home before. She always claimed to be too busy for relationships, but was secretly hoping for the right person to come around - your Canadian was a hopeless romantic, as you'd noticed quickly in the beginning of your relationship.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and shifted in your seat, turning your body so it faced hers.

"Let's do this," you exclaimed.

"Let's do this."

-

Jessie knocked on the door, and before you could panic about anything else (you'd gone through the whole lot now), a door swung open and you were met with Jessie's mum, immediately pulling her daughter into a bone-crushing hug.

You noticed how your girlfriend relaxed into her mother's arms. It had been a while since they had seen each other. Ever since Jessie's move to Portland she hadn't really been anywhere else, Canada camps aside, because she wanted to take some time to herself to settle into her new surroundings. This family weekend though, came at the perfect time. Jessie pulled out of the hug first, slowly opening her body up towards you.

"Mum, there's someone I want you to meet."

You got pulled out of your thoughts upon hearing Jessie speaking, your cheeks flushing a bright shade of red when both their heads now turned to you.

"This is my girlfriend, we've been dating for a couple months now and I really wanted you and the rest of the family to meet her. So I thought it would be nice to bring her along this weekend."

You noticed a slight shudder in Jessie's voice, you clearly not the only one affected by the novelty of the situation you found yourselves in.

The silence felt like it was going to last forever, your thoughts going a thousand miles an hour thinking about all the possible scenarios that could happen right now, but they were cut short when you saw a smile growing on her mother's face. Before you could protest, she pulled you in a warm hug too.

"Oh darling, it's lovely to meet you. My name is Michaele. Please, come inside and join us, we were just about to have dinner. It was about time Jessie brought someone home", she snickered. You let out a chuckle before turning your head back to your girlfriend, who was smiling widely. She winked at you, silently reminding you that she told you there was no need to be nervous.

Jessie and you were led to the living room where almost all of her close family members were gathered together. You let Jessie take the lead, you walking behind her and receiving all the warm hugs and welcomes, immediately feeling a sense of home with your girlfriend's family.

The rest of the evening went by quickly. Jessie and you only arrived at the house by 6, so before you knew it the clock was nearing 11 and the both of you were spent. The long day of traveling was finally starting to take it's toll on you, and with most people already having gone up to bed, your girlfriend and you decided to follow suit.

Jessie walked you two upstairs and led you towards her childhood room. You couldn't suppress an excited giggle when she turned the doorknob and opened the door. Immediately you were met with an overload of football stuff. Posters and pictures littered all over the wall, a couple balls stored in the far right corner of the room, a scarf from her childhood club hanging over her desk chair. It was all so... Jessie. You didn't miss the three cameras that were positioned carefully on the side of her desk, as you made a mental note to ask her about her photography later.

"This is nice, baby. It's so... you. I love it." You traced your hand along the soft duvet that was covering her bed.

Jessie closed the door, came up behind you and threw her arms around your waist. She nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck and spoke after pressing a few soft kisses to your exposed skin.

"I've had to suppress an 'I told you so' all evening, so... I told you so."

You giggled, leaning your head back against her shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry for having been so nervous. I think, in the back of my head I knew it was going to be fine, but I couldn't convince myself of it." You placed your hands over hers, reveling in the intimacy of the moment.

She placed her hands on your hips and turned you in her arms, with your chest now facing her instead of your back. You circled your arms around her neck and looked up at her.

"You did perfect. They love you, really. I could tell in the way they were engaging you into every conversation. Especially Elysse, she was really enjoying herself tonight."

You felt a weight fall from your shoulders upon hearing those words. You looked up at your girlfriend and pressed a hard kiss against her lips, trying to pour every ounce of love and appreciation into it as you pulled her impossibly closer.

You started playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, softly scratching your nails on the skin, as Jessie licked your bottom lip quietly asking for permission to slip her tongue in. She hummed into the kiss as you opened your mouth and arched into her, digging her fingers into your waist before she walked the two of you backwards, you sitting down once you felt the back of your knees hit the mattress.

Without breaking the kiss, Jessie joined you on the bed, laying down and pulling you on top of her. You softly took Jessie's bottom lip between your teeth as you went to break the kiss, letting it go with a soft pop. You could sense something had shifted in the air since you two had gone to her room.

Her hands grew restless and wandered all over your body while she pulled you down into another kiss. It was rougher, your teeth clashed as your tongues were fighting for dominance in your girlfriend's mouth. The air felt thick, not a sound to be heard in the room apart from your heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes being brushed against eachother.

A long day of traveling filled with nothing but a few quick kisses and lingering touches had you pent up, now subconsciously rolling your hips against Jessie while she squeezed your ass hard.

"Babe," Jessie started but was cut off by a moan escaping her lips at a particularly good roll of your hips.

"Fuck. If you keep doing that, I don't know if I'll be able to keep it in my pants." You chuckled at the use of words, before pulling away from her neck and getting some distance in between the both of you.

"Who says I want you to?", you counter, continuing your movements as her hands now grabbed your hips to stall you.

"My family are right there baby. As much as I would love to make you feel good right now, I don't know if they will be as friendly with you tomorrow morning when you kept them up all night screaming my name."

You blushed at her words. You knew you had a hard time at keeping quiet whenever Jessie pleasured you, so she definitely had a point.

You reluctantly slid off your girlfriend's lap, laying down next to her as you threw an arm around her waist and entangled your legs. "You're right," you started as you pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "I'll be good for you," you exclaimed with no malice intended, but realized it might've come out a bit different as you noticed Jessie's thighs pressing against each other upon hearing your exclamation.

When you had both come down from your little moment, you fell asleep rather quickly. The tiredness from a full travel day paired with the homely feeling of being wrapped up in Jessie's arms in her childhood room, lulled you to a uninterrupted 9 hours of sleep.

-

The rest of the weekend was pure bliss, to say the least. Saturday morning you all went for brunch in a cute little café down the road. You were sat between Elysse and Tristan, with your girlfriend in front of you. The four of you talked about anything and everything, from telling you embarrassing stories about their sister to asking about your work and what you did in life.

Winter was slowly but surely hitting Ontario and that's why you spent Saturday afternoon curled up on the couch with Jessie and some of the others. You were sipping on your second coffee of the afternoon, brought to you by Jessie just the way you liked it, as Michaele spoke up. "What's everyone's thoughts on an evening walk through town? The weather forecast says it shouldn't rain or snow anymore tonight."

You saw Jessie's eyes light up, you knew how much she loved a walk. Especially back home, she couldn't wait to walk past all the places she used to spend countless hours at back as a kid.

An hour into the walk, you all slowed down and came to a stop when you found a scenic spot. You had walked up a small hill and had come across a bench that looked out onto the Ontario skyline.

"You should take a family picture here," you squeezed Jessie's hand, where you fingers were interlinked, and quietly spoke. She nodded, appreciating the idea. She let go of you and spoke to her mum, who rallied everyone together on and around the bench.

You stayed back a bit, silently deciding to be the photographer when Michaele spoke up. "No, I'm not having that! You'll have to put up your phone against something and join us. You're a Fleming now, no more escaping the family pictures."

You blushed, taken aback by the kind words of Jessie's mum. You smiled appreciatively at her, quickly finding something to post your phone up against, starting a 10 second timer and quickly making your way over to the bench. Jessie had left you a spot in front of her, her arms circling around your waist and her head leaning on her shoulder when you went to join her.

You saw your phone screen shutter, signaling the photo was taken, but Jessie didn't let go of you. "A Fleming now, huh?" You leaned your head back against her shoulder and looked at her, love and adoration clear in your eyes.

"Easy, I'm not going by that name until you do something about it."

You pressed a soft, loving kiss against Jessie's lips that was full of promises for the future. You knew you were home.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive (Archive.is link on this page if you can't access the original source)

By Iris Gorfinkel

The lack of masking in health care facilities will needlessly spread disease. As in past autumns, cooler weather will bring a spike in flu and cold viruses while kids in Ontario have settled back into crowded classrooms and COVID-19 threatens to reach a 3-year peak, writes Iris Gorfinkle.

Imagine you — or a vulnerable loved one — needs urgent medical care. If you’re lucky enough to have a family doctor, you head to their clinic. Like most, yours is housed in a building with low ceilings and little air filtration. You enter the waiting room where several patients sit shoulder-to-shoulder waiting.

You have no choice but to sit alongside people sneezing, coughing and blowing their noses. Few if any, patients and health care workers are wearing a mask. While grateful for the hand sanitizer on offer, you begin to wonder if that will be enough to prevent your picking up an infection you hadn’t anticipated.

It’s an all-too-familiar scenario.

The most common reason people see a GP is to assess an upper respiratory infection. They most frequently start after inhaling infected droplets or aerosols or from having touched an infected surface.

An N95 or KN95 mask helps block transmission, whether it’s SARS CoV-2, influenza or a common cold virus like RSV. They’re not perfect, but they reduce viral transmission by 30 per cent. Yet in spite of their benefits, most health-care workers and patients no longer routinely mask, even during assessments requiring close contact with an increased risk of disease spread.

Many of my most vulnerable patients are keenly aware of the potential health risks this presents. Yet most say nothing and would never dream of asking their clinician to wear a mask.

There are sound reasons for this.

The first has to do with long wait times. A visit to the specialist is a precious commodity that cannot be risked. Several months pass before patients are seen, raising the urgency for care.

This is only the first of many factors to come that can silence even the most assertive of patients.

Many don’t want to appear disrespectful by asking their health-care workers to mask. They fear being labelled “difficult” or “demanding” and become distressed at the prospect of questioning their clinician’s judgment, even if it should put them in harm’s way.

Patients become more passive when burdened with the anxiety, dread and fatigue that accompanies illness. Deep-seated fears are ignited that further increase the dependency on health-care workers and squelch any remaining likelihood of their requesting that their clinicians mask.

Masking policies in health-care facilities don’t have to be all-or-none edicts. Patients who are hard of hearing often benefit when they’re able to read lips. Both patients and health care workers sometimes struggle because of anxiety. Young children may not co-operate, and there are people who simply cannot — or will not — tolerate them.

These are special cases though, not the rule. Smart policies in health care facilities need to have latitude for such exceptions. But tightening the policy on masking also recognizes that SARS CoV-2 is a stealthy virus.

One-in-three people infected have no symptoms yet can still transmit COVID-19. It can result in serious physical and mental harms that last 3 years and possibly longer following the initial infection. Since the start of the pandemic to the end of 2023, long COVID has affected 6 per cent of adults and 1 per cent of children.

Vaccines don’t lower viral transmission. Where they shine is at lowering the severity of cases and keeping Ontario’s hospitals from being overwhelmed, but they’re poor at reducing mild cases. It’s short-sighted to gamble on the hope that future vaccines will prove any different.

What’s more certain is that the lack of masking in health care facilities will needlessly spread disease. As in past autumns, cooler weather will bring a spike in flu and cold viruses while kids in Ontario have settled back into crowded classrooms and COVID-19 threatens to reach a 3-year peak.

The duty of care doesn’t land on patients. It’s the clinicians’ job to ensure patients don’t pick up an unintended infection. Patients have a right to safety in health care facilities. In the meantime, I can only advise my concerned patients to wear an N95 or KN-95 when in health care facilities and suggest they not be shy when asking clinicians to do the same.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Around 10 years ago, a linguist with experience in Haudenosaunee languages, Karin Michelson, was invited by three Oneida women to assist them in going through the archives of one of the world’s best-known museums. The Oneida women went to the Smithsonian Institution as part of a program known as Breath of Life, which enables Onkwehón:we to bring linguistic works back to their home communities. Michelson, who co-authored a dictionary for the severely endangered Oneida language, came along to help them sift through the archives. She first forged connections with the Oneida when she was at the Centre for Research and Teaching of Native Languages at the University of Western Ontario. “I think I would not have stayed in school if I had not met some of the people I got to work with,” she said. She went on to teach at Harvard before finally settling into a role at the University of Buffalo. But Michelson, a non-Indigenous woman who grew up in Chateauguay in the 1950s and 60s, encountered something else in the Smithsonian’s archives that caught her interest and surprised her – an unpublished manuscript called Notes to a Mohawk Dictionary.

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[freakasaurus-rex]

Today's bug is:

Hemaris Thysbe!

Commonly known as the hummingbird clearwing, this little guy is part of the family Sphingidae, commonly known as hawkmoths.

They're native to North America, and are most commonly found in the eastern USA and southern Ontario [hey! that's where I am! :D]. They're also migratory species. Neat!

Colouration can vary, but typically they have an olive green back, a red abdomen, and a cream underside. Their wings are mainly red with clear windows.

These little guys get their namesake, along with their colouration, from the fact that when they feed they hover in the air instead of settling! Therefore, hummingbird moth.

Unlike most moths, the hummingbird moth is diurnal! They are most active during the hottest parts of the day, but stay out until sunset. Other than that, little is known about their behaviour.

Curious little critters! Go kiss a bug :3

[scotianostra]

March 3rd 1847 saw the birth of Alexander Graham Bell in Edinburgh.

Bell’s education was largely received through numerous experiments in sound and the furthering of his father’s work on Visible Speech for the deaf. I covered his father in a post on Saturday.

Bell worked with Thomas Watson on the design and patent of the first practical telephone. In all, Bell held 18 patents in his name alone and 12 that he shared with collaborators.

The second son of Alexander Melville Bell and Eliza Grace Symonds Bell, he was named for his paternal grandfather, Alexander Bell. For most of his life, the younger Alexander was known as “Aleck” to family and friends. He had two brothers, Melville James Bell and Edward Charles Bell, both of whom died from tuberculosis.

During his youth, Alexander Graham Bell experienced significant influences that would carry into his adult life. His Grandfather was a well-known professor and teacher of elocution. Alexander’s mother also had a profound influence on him, being a proficient pianist despite her deafness. This taught Alexander to look past people’s disadvantages and find solutions to help them.

Alexander Graham Bell was homeschooled by his mother, who instilled in him an infinite curiosity about the world around him. He received one year of formal education in a private school and two years at Edinburgh’s Royal High School. Though a mediocre student, he displayed an uncommon ability to solve problems. At age 12, while playing with a friend in a grain mill, he noted the slow process of husking the wheat grain. He went home and built a device with rotating paddles with sets of nail brushes that dehusked the wheat. It was his first invention.

A lot has been written about Bell’s invention but before the family emigrated he was only 16, when he accepted a position at Weston House Academy in Elgin teaching elocution and music to students, many older than he. At the end of the term, Alexander returned home and joined his father, promoting his father, Melville Bell’s technique of Visible Speech, which taught the deaf to align specific phonetic symbols with a particular position of the speech organs (lips, tongue, and palate).

After the death of his two brothers, and Aleck’s health deteriorating his father decided, for the sake of his health they had to move to a better climate in the Americas, his son resisted the move at first but he relented, and in July 1870, the family settled in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. There, Alexander’s health improved, and he set up a workshop to continue his study of the human voice. He later took up a position as a tutor at Boston School for Deaf Mutes and settled in the city in 1871.

Two years later, he was appointed Professor of Vocal Physiology and Elocution at Boston University.

These early experiments in speech creation, along with his knowledge of anatomy, informed his own experiments on transmitting speech, which he began in earnest from 1873.

Bell did not think he was inventing a ‘telephone’ during his early experiments. He was working on the holy grail of the day: sending multiple telegraph messages over the same wire. He aimed to make electro-mechanical devices capable of transmitting and receiving different tones for each message.

He was supported financially in this work by the father of one of his students, Gardiner Hubbard, a wealthy lawyer and politician, whose deaf daughter, Mabel, had been taught to lip-read and speak by Bell. Bell fell in love with Mabel. Her father, being aware of Bell’s experiments with possible ‘speaking telegraph’ devices, refused his permission for the couple to marry until Bell had successfully developed his new invention. To speed matters along, he also funded an assistant, Thomas Watson.

Sensing the danger of rival developments for this valuable invention, Bell’s future father-in-law filed an application for ‘Improvements in Telegraphy’ on 14 February 1876. On that very same day a few hours later – or was it actually a few hours earlier? – inventor Elisha Gray filed his own idea for a telephone at the same office. Bell was granted the patent on 7 March 1876. On 9 July 1877, Bell, Hubbard, Watson (and other funders) established the Bell Telephone Company to market the new device. Bell and Mabel married two days later.

Controversy remains as to whether Bell or his father-in-law might have had access to the details of Gray’s patent through an office clerk in Hubbard’s pay. The clerk seemed to admit as much in a later court case, but Bell’s patent was upheld, as it was in the many cases which followed.

On 11 August 1877, Bell and Mabel arrived in Britain from the USA on honeymoon. In Bell’s luggage was his new communication device, the telephone. Bell travelled the country promoting his invention, even demonstrating the device to Queen Victoria, who was so amused she asked to keep the temporary installation in place. The first telephones went on sale later that year.

Sometimes described as the most valuable patent ever filed, for years following the award, Bell had to defend his patent in expensive and protracted litigation battles brought by a whole range of inventors. In 2002, the US Congress formally recognised Italian Antonio Meucci as the true inventor of the telephone, based on prototypes he demonstrated in 1860. Bell and the Italian had shared a workshop in the 1870s. Meucci was pursuing his claim in the Supreme Court when he died in 1889. France and Germany cite their own contenders for the title.

In many respects, Bell’s telephone was flawed, his receiver and transmitter designs being considerably improved by others within a couple of years. Among those were Thomas Edison and Professor David Hughes, who both produced improvements to Bell’s early instrument, transforming the telephone into a truly successful communication device.

Still widely known as ‘the inventor of the telephone’, Bell had given up his interest in this invention by his early thirties. He spent the rest of his life with Mabel and their family in Canada, working on a series of varied projects including flight, sheep breeding, developing a ‘vacuum jacket’ to aid artificial breathing and the founding of the National Geographic magazine. His foremost passion remained enabling deaf people to lip read and speak, therefore blending into a hearing world. This was in itself controversial to sections of the deaf community, disenfranchising those who preferred to communicate using sign language, which they viewed as the primary language of the deaf.

Bell’s last visit to Edinburgh was in November 1920. At a speech given to pupils at the city’s Royal High School, where he had been a student 60 years before, he imagined that this young generation might live to see a time when someone “in any part of the world would be able to telephone to any other part of the world without any wires at all.”

He died on 2nd August 1922 aged 75. On the day of his funeral the telephone systems in the US and Canada were silenced for one minute, can you imagine that happening nowadays!

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: February 23

2019

photo crush [david/patrick, M, 1,651] by mihaly

Patrick has saved a lot of photos of David to his phone. Like, a LOT.

Pushing Roses [david/patrick, T, 5,238, CW: MCD (non-permanent)] by prose_apothecary

No one asked for a Schitt's Creek/Pushing Daisies crossover, and I delivered.

Right [david/patrick, G, 815] by thechargingsky

Patrick finally realized why it never felt right with her.

The Conditional Tense [david/patrick, G, 1,609] by thelightwitch

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to get married someday?” Patrick asks.The question takes David by surprise, because of course Patrick wants to get married. Even if he hadn’t literally been engaged to be married once already, everything about Patrick – from his embarrassing dad shoes to the way he ogles babies in the café – screams Family Man. It’s something David finds inexplicably, magnetically attractive about him – who knew he was so horny for little league dads? The point being, of course Patrick wants to get married. Doesn’t he? -- A quick little scene - David and Patrick discuss marriage. Hypothetically, of course.

2020

(Multifandom Fanvid) If You Wanna Be Loved [NR, vid] by Fannibalistic

[VID] Odds Are [G, vid] by Nestra

We're gonna be all right.

a rose by any other name [david/patrick, G, 1,109] by @banesapothecary

“This is coming out all wrong, I’m sorry,” Patrick whispers. He feels David shake his head no more than he sees it. “You don’t have to apologize,” David says in a patient voice, rubbing Patrick’s shoulder. “What are you saying?”

Clothes are the Worst [david/patrick, E, 3,172] by @mostlyinthemorning

David and Patrick compete to see who can take off the other's clothes the fastest.

happy endings are new beginnings [david/patrick, G, 1,447] by @wild-aloof-rebel

Thoughts on homes and happiness and having to say goodbye.

my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand [david/patrick, M, 4,990] by @hullomoon

A look at David and Patrick's relationship through the years through touch.

On the bed, on the floor [david/patrick/jake, E, 4,631] by anonymous

The night with Jake continues

Something a Little More [david/patrick, E, 1,294] by thegrayness

Patrick loves waking up to David's kisses, and he asks David if they can try waking up with something more. For prompt #18 from RosebuddWrites: morning lazy sex.

2021

A tea party with Moira [johnny/moira, G, 1,734] by slimexpuppy

AU – During their time in Schitt’s Creek, Moira finds herself pregnant, much to her and Johnny's surprise. The little tyke, Charlotte (Lottie for short) is now just over 2 years old. Moira let Johnny take the reins at the start, but after her time away in Bosnia, she realised that she was quite fond of her little replica. She missed her nearly as much as she missed Johnny.

All I Want for Christmas (is Quarantine to End) [david/patrick, M, 2,610] by @sspaz1000

It's November 1st during a pandemic, what will David do about the holiday season?

an open smile on an empty shore [david/patrick, M, 8,632] by @patrickredactedbrewer

When Patrick pulls into the marina parking lot, a huge garish sign over the dock entrance reads All A-Boat Love Cruises Welcomes Our Singles!“David,” Patrick asks, turning to his husband. “Do you have something to tell me about the romantic cruise you booked for us?” “Okay, in my defense," David starts, and Patrick settles into his seat and waits.

Broken Pieces Build the Best Foundations [david/patrick, E, 16,049] by Raelynn

David is a gallerist in NYC - until he learns that his parents have been "helping him." He enlists the help of attorney Patrick Brewer to help him transfer ownership of Rose Gallery to his assistant, Samantha. His best friend Stevie inherits a motel in the middle of nowhere Ontario and leaves NYC. With nothing holding him there anymore, David follows. But maybe he did leave something in NYC - or someone.

Croatia [moira & alexis, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Don't Look [david/patrick, T, 535, CW: Violence] by angelwiththebluebox

david and patrick watch a horror movie

If I Could Reach the Stars [david/patrick, T, 4,208] by BrandonStrayne

David decides to make the biyearly time change their signature event and throw a party. Patrick decides to surprise him with an appropriately ridiculous costume.

in calm or stormy weather [patrick & alexis, T, 4,441] by singsongsung, @landofsonlali

On National Siblings Day, Alexis spends the day with her favorite brother Patrick, and David bonds with Twyla. David: Why are you at our house, Alexis? Alexis: because i have a whole day planned for us david!! David: Why? Alexis: because it’s NATIONAL SIBLINGS DAY!

locks like the raven [david/patrick, T, 1,571] by @wild-aloof-rebel

First footing: The tradition of a tall, dark-haired man being the first person of the year to cross a home’s threshold, carrying symbolic gifts that bring luck and prosperity for the coming year

Making Change [david/patrick, G, 1,543] by @grapehyasynth

It’s only when he’s bundled the dirty laundry into three different machines and pulled out a ten dollar note he’d taken out of his dad’s wallet when he realizes he might have a problem. The thing only takes quarters. Or, David and Patrick meet at the Schitt's Creek Laundromat

right where you left me [david/patrick, T, 1,200] by patrickbrewer

Alexis is coming back to visit Schitt’s Creek for the first time since she moved away, and David has spent the past week readying the already-pristine house and guest room for her arrival. Of course they’ve facetimed and talked a lot in the space between, but now she’s so busy and extremely successful that David is lucky if he catches her on the phone more than once a week. Which is obviously what brought him to the whole not-drinking-all-day thing. The absolute last thing he needs right now is another oopsy daisy.

Valentine's Week [david/patrick, E, 29,082] by @pine67

The store is buzzing with energy. Everyday is a successful day and the two lovebirds are either working themselves to the ground or fucking themselves into the ground. And so, they don’t actually get around to booking their cruise trip until that weekend. David is going through his bedtime skincare routine in the en-suite with the door open when Patrick mutters a thick and enunciated, “Fuck.” “What is it?” David turns around slowly, massaging the under eye jelly mask into his skin while walking cautiously to the bed. Patrick is sitting cross legged over the covers with his laptop in one hand and tickets in the other. “It’s not a Valentine’s Day cruise for couples, David. It’s a singles week. All the activities are ice breakers and random blind dates and- it’s just that. It’s not for us.”

2022

don't you ever question my love for you [david/patrick, T, 5,243] by lucianowriter

When Twyla asks Patrick to help her cousin out with some queer questions they have it sends Patrick on a spiral. The thoughts and feelings he'd been pushing down for some time bubble to the surface. Will he find answers in conversation with his best friend and his husband?

Stuck in Traffic [david/patrick, T, 2,425] by @chelle-68

David is an account executive at a television station and doesn’t understand why Patrick in traffic hates him so much. Will they ever get along?

The Promise of a Coming Day [david/patrick, G, 1,726] by @fictasticvoyage

Captain Brewer hires David Rose as his first mate on his charter boat. They flirt, it's cute, they go on an amazing first date, they kiss.

The Window to Your Soul [david/patrick, G, 516] by @a-noble-dragon

Caramel coloured eyes, that was what first drew David's attention.

2023

Did You Hear About David Rose? [gen, G, 100] by mallpretzles

David never knew that whispers could be so loud until they were about him.

Some Hurts Never Heal [marcy & patrick, T, 7,776, CW: suicide] by elifisher96

5 times people were worried about Patrick's mental health, and one time he was upfront about his struggles.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017, 2018, or 2024 2019: 4 fics/9,313 words 2020: 8 fanworks (6 fics, 2 vids)/16,660 words 2021: 12 fics/72,012 words 2022: 4 fics/9,910 words 2023: 2 fics/7,876 words Total: 30 fanworks (28 fics, 2 vids)/115,771 words