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animatorweirdo · 4 months ago

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The Fall of the Sun (Part 2)

Part 1

While recovering from the injuries that had left you bedridden, you remember the past and think of the moments that led you into this.

(Author note: Just a fair warning, I might not continue this fic after this part.)

Warnings: broken bones, drugs to numb the pain, pirates, murder, your family dying in a fire, mentions of becoming a slave, jumping into a sea, getting attacked by a sea snake, storms, dehydration and nearly dying by the sun, Halbrand being a bit annoying, bar fights, mentions if him being in prison, violence, volcanic eruptions, things getting destroyed by fire, threats of being burned alive, angst, injuries, betrayal and reader being self-deprecative.

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As you lay on the bed, trying to let your broken body recover. You think of the past, the happier times before all this. It was all you could do besides be wrapped in bandages and consumed by the medicines to numb the pain.

You were born in a town beside a northern shore. It was a happy little town. You were a young girl, dreaming of adventure and finding true love. Your family considered you silly for them, but you were certain that one day— you would embark on a journey to fulfill those dreams.

One special thing about your town was your unique neighbor, a dragon. Your people and her had lived in peace for many years thus there was never a fear of her attacking your town. She was a patient and kind being. You had visited her cave many times with your friends. Nearly everyone had a great friendship with her and you all were eager when she shared the news that she had laid a clutch of eggs. Life was good back then.

However, everything changed when the pirates came.

You and the town first allowed them to stay out of politeness. They were arrogant and rude, but since they didn’t cause trouble worth kicking them out, you could only wait and hope they would leave as soon as possible. But then they heard about your friend and decided to commit one of the most horrible acts you had ever seen.

They sneaked into her lair and murdered her. They crushed their eggs and stole all the gifts you and the townspeople had given her throughout the years.

When they bragged their victory to you, you all were horrified and tried to chase them out, but then they attacked your home, burned the houses, and killed people. Your family perished when your house caught on fire. You had no idea what happened to your siblings and cousins. You were the only one to survive.

Unfortunately, you were also taken captive by the pirates with those who survived. They intended to sell you for slavery. Despite your hatred for them, you were scared to act and played nice until you found out they had taken one of the eggs. They planned to sell it to some lord who would take pleasure in enslaving a legendary beast such as a dragon. Remembering your old friend, you decided not to allow it to happen.

During a storm, you stole the egg. However, seeing nowhere else to escape when your escape boat was lost. You jumped into the freezing sea, allowing the current to take you despite struggling to remain above the surface.

Miraculously, you survived the storm. But then you were forced to swim in the sea without clear direction, hoping you might find land. You doubted if you made the right decision, but considering your fate would have been slavery, death by the sea was perhaps better than a lifetime of torment.

That was then when you encountered the raft and met him, Halbrand.

The surviving people took pity enough on you to help you climb on the raft, and then he spoke to you for the first time.

“What is a lone maiden like yourself doing swimming so far in the sea?” The brown-haired man questioned after one of the raft people helped you on the raft and you lay on the wooden flooring, exhausted.

“I jumped out of a pirate ship. It was either stay and be sold as a slave, or jump and possibly die in the sea. The latter was more pleasing to me,” You answered then looked toward him.

“What about you? What does a lonely wet rat like yourself doing so far out of here?” You asked, which earned a chuckle from him.

He first appeared a bit cold but did not seem to mind talking with you. Apparently, the ship he was traveling on was destroyed by a sea snake, and now they were hopelessly sailing on whatever was left, hoping a land would come their way sooner or later. Strangely, he kept looking toward the bag you clutched close to your hips like he knew something. It made you feel uneasy but tolerated it as you were stuck with him.

He seemed to liven up a bit when you talked more, and he seemed to have taken a liking to calling you ‘tough girl’ just to annoy you. You hated it, but you couldn’t help but admit that talking to him helped you keep your sanity.

Unfortunately, the sea proved more dangerous than you imagined. You were attacked by the same sea monster that destroyed Halbrand’s ship. It devoured the rest of the poor travelers and destroyed the raft, leaving only you and Halbrand. You did not know how you survived, except you two lay quietly against the raft as the sea snake swam past you. Scared out of your wits, you might have held his hand tightly which he did not seem to mind until the danger was over. Strangely, you remember him uttering some strange words right before the sea snake left.

Then the storm came, which caused many troubles and nearly destroyed the raft if you had not cut the rope that kept you down. Then came the sun and you were dying from heat and dehydration.

Heating under the scorching sun, exhausted and choking on your dry throat. You looked toward Halbrand one last time.

“You know, Halbrand. Even though you were kinda annoying since we are most likely going to die, it was nice knowing you. “ You said, struggling to maintain consciousness under the heat.

He chuckled, sweating and glancing toward you. “I knew you were gonna warm up to me eventually,” He teased, his eyes full of exhaustion. “But… it was nice knowing you as well, tough girl,” he said, using the nickname you hated.

He offered his hand and you did not mind holding it as the sun finally got to you, causing your consciousness to flicker under the heat.

But luck seemed to be on your side as you two were found by a numenorian ship.

They gave you water and food to eat then brought you to one of the port cities of Numenor. The ship’s captain was kind enough to share some gold so you two would have a place to stay for a couple of nights while you sorted out your predicament.

You allowed Halbrand to stay with you, even though you had enough only for one room in the inn. He liked testing your patience and tried to convince you to show the secrets of your bag, but luckily he didn’t push it. Perhaps your ordeal together managed to help you become friends and you two decided to find some work so you could keep the room for now.

Your mother taught you everything you needed to know about embroidery and the workings of stitching. You had a passion for clothing and fashion. You asked around if anyone knew any clothes vendors or shops who could use an extra hand and you ended up meeting a nice elderly woman named Núriël, who was amazed by your skills and eagerly took you in to work for her.

While doing a small errand, you noticed Halbrand seemed to have found his place in a forge, so you catch up with him for a moment. Apparently, to work in a forge, he needed to be part of a guild and he managed to become a member. You felt slightly proud and wished him congrats before continuing your day.

Your day went smoothly and quicker than you anticipated. Núriël gifted you extra clothing for you and Halbrand after you told her of your ordeal in the sea. You were grateful and eagerly made your way back to the inn, only for some numenorian guard to tell you that Halbrand was in prison for theft and causing a tavern fight.

You were slightly livid as you helped him out of there and forced him to explain. Apparently, he had trouble finding work in the forge, so he stole the guild badge and tried to get into the good graces of the men by buying them drinks at the tavern. However, they were easily offended by something he said and a tavern fight was born.

You scolded him as it was common knowledge that the numenorians were known as a proud people. Such tricks as buying drinks will only work on those from Middle Earth.

He then admitted he had not interacted with people much, so he was not the most experienced. You found it weird that he did not know how to interact before returning to your room, making dinner, and then showing him new clothes so he would not look like a rat.

The next day, you decided to aid him in finding work at the guild. The people there were much calmer when you apologized for your friend’s rude behavior and then questioned about the qualifications to join the guild. Halbrand was slightly offended when you excused his behavior as being a fever from the sea, but since it allowed the men of the guild to give him a chance, he did not complain.

You instructed him very clearly not to run his mouth. He is to listen and learn when necessary. You were not going to help him if he got himself in prison for the second time.

He showed gratitude and promised he would not disappoint you.

He kept his promise as he managed to win over the guild with his forge skills and become an official member, which meant no more stealing or tavern fights.

The whole thing helped you become closer and you got into a routine that helped you adapt to your new life. Halbrand learned to be better at socializing with people, though you had taken on yourselves to dress him on proper occasions. He always teased and joked about how you were his personal dresser. Those jokes always earned a smack or eyes rolling.

However, you did grow fond of him and finally trusted him enough to reveal the golden egg to him.

You told him about your friend and the life before pirated. You told him how you could not allow her only child to be taken and sold off to slavery. Halbrand looked at you with rare sensibility.

“I’m sorry… for your loss,” He said.

“Will you promise me not to tell anyone? We are better off now, but there is no knowing what the Numenorians will do if they find such a creature here. “ You asked.

“I would not be able to forgive myself if anything came to happen to my friend’s only child,” You said, looking at the golden egg in your hands.

“I’m sure everything will be fine by how you protect the egg,” Halbrand tried to play it off as a joke.

“I’m serious, Halbrand. Please… Give me your word you will allow no harm to the egg,” You said with a tone of seriousness.

Halbrand was quiet for a moment before taking your hand into his. “I give you my word that no harm will come to the egg or the life inside it,” He said sincerely.

That promise helped you be easy on yourself, and surprisingly, Halbrand seemed to have become more honest with you. He still teased you like no tomorrow, but he kept his word and did not mention anything about the egg to the outside world. You could not help but admit that you considered him one of your most trusted friends.

You and Halbrand decided that life on Numenor was not so bad and had enough money to rent a bigger place. You became comfortable leaving the egg near the fireplace to incubate and after three months living in Numenor, the day finally arrived.

You pulled Halbrand out of his forge that day, excited to have him there. You two then watched as a small dragon hatched from the egg. Its scales were golden and big pearly black eyes looked back at you. A small adorable chirp escaped its mouth and your heart was stolen. You placed your hand on the table and watched the little creature curiously climb on your palm. You then snuggled close to it with love in your heart.

Halbrand figured the dragon must be male. You found it a little strange that he had such knowledge of dragons, but you didn't care enough and already came up with a name. You named the little dragon, Anorion, which Halbrand thought was slightly cheesy yet fitting.

Your routine changed with Anorion as he needed food and a lot of attention. It became a bit of a challenge as he would sometimes cry out for you, nearly giving himself away to your landowners and other people nearby. Anorion would behave well in Halbrand’s care, but he was especially clingy with you. It gave Halbrand a reason to tease you as Anorion obviously saw you as his mother.

You considered getting a new place that was away from people, but then you heard some rumors about the Southlands and remembered that you had relatives who lived there and hadn’t seen them in years.

You proposed the idea of the journey to Halbrand as Anorion had become rowdy as he grew and that you had enough to pay a ship to take you to Middle Earth. Halbrand surprisingly agreed to the idea without much thought and you began the preparations.

You bid goodbye to the friends you made. They bid you farewell and gave you some parting gifts. You delivered Anorion in a box, playing him off as your sicky pet to explain the sounds that echoed from his box. You then finally set off to Middle Earth.

As you sailed out of the port city, you became curious about Halbrand’s decision to come with you and questioned him about it as he could have easily stayed in Numenor.

“I did not mind our life in Numenor, but I think it would become lonely and less interesting without you there,” Halbrand said. “And I would be a pretty bad father to Anorion if I abandoned his mother on a possible dangerous journey,” He finished with a grin.

His remark caused you to roll your eyes at him, but in your heart, you felt warm and a change. That was perhaps the moment you began to feel more for your annoyingly charming friend.

When you finally arrived on Middle Earth, you bought a wagon and a couple of horses before setting off to the Southlands. The journey was long but peaceful. As Anorion had grown big enough to learn how to fly, you two had fun helping him learn and Anorion eagerly flew most of the distances and began hunting for himself.

You two would sometimes stop to fish and camp beneath the stars. You once instigated a water fight in a river and Halbrand gave no mercy. It was fun, but when Halbrand picked you up by your waist and you both fell into the river, you noticed how the close contact made you feel nervous even though you had no such issue before.

When you finally reached the Southlands, you were suddenly stopped by your old elven friend, Rhiwlas. You had met when she first came to your town and you two became good friends so you were fairly excited to see her again.

She had warned orcs had been seen around Southland and insisted she would escort you to the village.

You did not mind and took the chance to catch up with her, telling her everything that had happened as she escorted you to the village where your relatives lived.

Your relatives were shocked but glad to see you. They were sorrowful when you told them what had happened to your home and were more than willing to provide a place for you and Halbrand to stay.

After settling in, you and Halbrand took the chance to sit on the grass and enjoy the scenery while Anorion looked around your new home.

“Not a bad place. It’s very peaceful,” You stated.

Halbrand nodded with a hum. “I agree. Thought I am happy that the forge of this village is looking for new smiths and do not require me to join some guild,” he stated, making you giggle.

“Say… since we are in Middle Earth. There is nothing that would stop you from traveling and doing what you want,” You started, and Halbrand looked at you strangely. “I do not mean you are not welcome to stay. You are more than welcome. I just mean… If you wanted to leave and travel, that would not bother me,” You explained.

He stared at you for a moment before grinning. “I am in no rush to travel. I think I can come to enjoy this place,” He assured and you could not help but smile. Relief and joy encased you within the thought of him staying.

But then Rhiwlas came and to your surprise, she seemed suspicious of Halbrand. She questioned you about his past, and then you figured she was just being protective of you. You assured her that Halbrand could be trusted, but for some reason, she was adamant in her suspicion.

Then by accident, she saw Anorion. You quickly had to introduce her to him and assure her that he was not dangerous. Luckily, you managed to get her comfortable, and promise not to tell on you. You promised her that you would introduce Anorion to your relatives soon enough.

Unfortunately, your new peace did not last long as the orcs attacked. It was completely out of surprise and you would have lost your life if Halbrand was not there to save your life. Rhiwlas and her people did their best to fend them off, but they overwhelmed them by numbers. You were scared that soon they would either kill or enslave you all, but then Anorion took flight and released his fire upon them.

You and Halbrand had tried to help him learn to breathe fire and this was the first time you had seen him use it effectively. You felt pride and Anorion’s sudden appearance scared the orcs away, allowing Rhiwlas and her people to finish them.

The orcs left, ordered to retreat by an orc that looked like an elf. You were glad it was over then introduced Anorion to your relatives and the village people. Luckily, they were more welcoming than you thought and did not mind giving treats and pets to the small dragon.

While recovering from the attack, you noticed the sudden change in Halbrand’s mood. He was quiet and stared at the way where the orcs and their leader left with hatred in his eyes. That way you knew he knew the orc leader from somewhere and questioned him about it. He hesitated first then revealed the orc leader had done great wrong to him, thus the hatred.

You were sympathetic and comforted him, which helped the anger in him to calm down.

Rhiwlas went after the orc leader with her company and the peace was restored. But then, Anorion became frightened by something.

He started crying, biting your arm and clothing, seemingly trying to lead you away from the village. It was hard to calm him down until Halbrand revealed that, like animals, dragons could sense when a great danger or catastrophe was going to happen soon.

You began to feel eerie when you noticed birds escaping toward the west and other animals becoming frightened by something as well. You decided to trust Anorion’s instinct and convinced your relatives and other village people to leave as soon as possible.

You traveled away from the village, carrying Anorion in your arms as you tried to comfort him, all the while attempting to figure out what had frightened him so deeply.

You got your answer when the Southland’s slumbering volcano erupted. The great cloud rose before your very eyes and balls of fire fell upon the earth. All of you ran for your lives, despite having some distance from the volcano, the great balls of fire were able to reach you and cause havoc around you.

Halbrand covered you while you two ran with scared Anorion in your arms. However, then the great cloud of fire came toward you with awful speed. You were not able to run away as it caught up to you, ready to burn all of you alive.

“(Name)!” Halbrand yelled. He embraced you as the fiery cloud consumed you and everything around you. You cried out in fear, expecting to be burned alive.

But instead of being burned alive, you felt something cold wrap around you and then you dropped against a forest ground.

In shock, you stared at the unfamiliar forest around you. Anorion whimpered as you got up and looked around in confusion as there was no fire around you.

You then saw the fires and the smoke and walked up the hill, seeing the volcano far away and everything that had been burned to ash. You were in disbelief of what had happened, but your worry for Halbrand and your relatives overshadowed your need for answers and you began making your way out of the forest, toward the destroyed land.

By coincidence, you encountered Rhiwlas who came back to investigate after seeing the volcano erupt. You then told her what had happened.

The fiery cloud had most likely dissipated by now, so you pleaded with her to see if any of your relatives or Halbrand were still alive. She doubted anyone could have survived such destruction, but you continued pleading and she finally agreed.

You stayed in the camp with Anorion and some of her people. They questioned how you survived and you gave an unsure description of how during the fire, Halbrand embraced you and suddenly you were in another forest like magic. They found it strange, but your confusion was settled when Rhiwlas returned and declared she had found one survivor.

You were relieved to find it was Halbrand who had survived the fire. However, your face went pale when you saw a large sharp piece of wood stuck through his side.

Rhiwlas explained he was going to need immediate treatment if he was to survive. She then sorrowfully explained that your relatives and the rest of the village people had died in the fire. Your heart sank for your relatives, but you held strong as Halbrand’s survival was at stake and you brought him to Lindon.

You prayed Eru or whatever Valar for him to survive. You were there as the elven healers worked swiftly to remove the wood piece and block the blood loss. They were able to stable him but he was going to rest for a while.

You were by his side the days he spent with his eyes closed, praying he would not leave you alone till the day arrived when he opened his eyes and teased you for your tears. You were joyful, but could no longer hold back revealing your feelings.

“Is everything a joke to you?” You scolded him softly after he woke up and made that ridiculous remark.

“I like to keep up the smiles rather than despair. Thought having lovely maiden yourself and our sweet child mourn my passing does not sound like an awful end,” He grinned.

“I thought I really lost you,” You revealed.

“Well, as you can see. I am way too charming to pass away so easily,” Halbrand said, petting Anorion’s head.

“I’m serious. Halbrand you are more important to me than you realize. I do not know I would be able to live without you by my side,” You confessed, hoping he would understand what you meant and he did.

Halbrand stared at you, before gently placing his hand behind your head and bringing your lips down to meet with his.

It was sweet and short before you broke it off, and he promised he was not going to leave your side anytime soon.

You were there as he recovered. He recovered surprisingly fast. After two days, he was able to walk by himself.

You told the happy news to Rhiwlas. However, she had begun to suspect Halbrand from something. She revealed how she found it way too strange how he was able to survive the volcano and that he was most likely the reason you were able to escape the volcano into another forest. Thinking about it made you realize how strange it was and that there was a possibility that Halbrand was not an ordinary human man. However, when Rhiwlas revealed that she suspected him of being a malicious being, you became defensive. You tried to reason with her that Halbrand could not be something evil since he did save your and Anorion’s life. Why would he save you if he was evil?

Rhiwlas was not convinced, especially when Halbrand had begun taking an interest in talking with the elves and suggesting something that could help them defeat the orcs now they had found themselves a new homeland in the former Southlands.

Then something happened between them and you could no longer find Halbrand anywhere. Rhiwlas revealed that he was Sauron, causing you to fall into shock and denial. You thought she was throwing accusations at him because she was being overly protective. You could not believe the man you have befriended, lived, traveled with, and held feelings for could be some ancient evil from the past.

Unfortunately, it was the truth.

You became the unfortunate fool deceived by the deceiver, with no family or place to go. Alone among the elves. And now, a poor fool with a broken body. Anorion was possibly dead, if not, enslaved by the orcs. You could do nothing but stare into the nothing, hoping you won’t end up as crippled for the rest of your life.

Oh, what an unfortunate fool you truly are…

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #silmarillion imagines #tolkien #sauron x reader #sauron #oc #oc x reader #halbrand #halbrand x reader

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alotofpockets · 1 year ago

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Right in front of you | Leslie Shay

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her Prompt: "Is that a hickey?" Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1k

You loved to cook at the firehouse around the corner, on your days off from the family owned restaurant you worked at. Besides loving to cook, it was also a way for you to see your girlfriend when she was on shift. The environment at 51 was also not bad, you loved being around the people that Shay called her family, even though most of them didn’t know you and Shay were a thing. The two of you didn’t mind people knowing, you just didn’t want to make telling people such a big deal. Severide and Dawson knew for sure as they were her best friends, and maybe some other people had guessed and just never mentioned it. There were however also a few people that were definitely still clueless, like Cruz and Otis, as they were about to prove to you once again, you realized when you saw them walk in with their eyes focussed on you.

“Good morning boys, how was the call?” You ask as you put some scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate for each of them. Cruz was quick to give you an answer, priding himself on saving the day. “I rescued an old lady from her house before it was engulfed in flames.” Otis quickly chimes in, “Not before I located her and told you where to find her.” It was adorable how hard they were trying. “Sounds like a great start to the day, then.” You smile.

You had been coming to prepare food at the station for a few months now. When Shay had breakfast duty one day she asked if you could prepare breakfast for take out at the restaurant, after she relayed the many compliments the team gave to the food, you had suggested coming over to cook breakfast in the firehouse once a week, much to Shay and the team's liking.

Not a day at the firehouse went by without Cruz and Otis trying to flirt with you. Not responding to their flirts or not showing the same interests back didn't stop them from trying every time, though. You had mentioned it to Shay after the first time it happened, wanting to be open about it. She just laughed at their antics with you, before she pecked your lips and told you, “You just tell them off or tell them about us if it gets annoying, okay?” So far, you had just found it funny, and decided to see how long they were going to keep this up, still not in any way giving them a signal that you were interested in them, of course.

You were still making scrambled eggs when Shay and Dawson got back from their call. They walked right up to you for their food, a cup of coffee, and of course they started a conversation with you. When they sat down with the rest of the team Shay overheard Cruz and Otis whispering amongst themselves. “We should start a bet on who will be able to get y/n to go on a date with them first.” She exchanges a look with Dawson, both of them working hard on keeping their laughter in. Shay, like you, thought their antics were hilarious, so she didn't stop them, unless you would get uncomfortable by it.

Shay joins the conversation of their other teammates. She gets tired of her hair in her face so she puts her hair up in a quick messy bun. “Wow, Shay, is that a hickey?” Mills gasps. Dawson turns Shay's head her way so she can see for herself. “Sure looks like a hickey, Mills, never seen one before?” The brunette jokes. The rest of the team starts bombarding your girlfriend with questions, you look over to the group as it starts quite the commotion. “Okay, okay, calm down. You all get one question.” Shay says, knowing these people well enough to know they were going to drop it.

Capp starts off the questioning round. “Is she hot?” He immediately gets a shove to the shoulder by Tony, “Was that seriously the best you could do?” After he shrugs, Shay answers, “Yes, she's very hot.” Mills goes next, “One night stand?” She shakes her head, “No.” The team shares a look before Casey asks the next question, “Does Severide know who it is then?” Severide answers that one, letting the team know that he does. Otis decides to ask the next question, “Do we know her?” Shay noticed that you were walking towards the table with your own plate of food. “Yes, you do.” She says. You can see their brains working overtime, and have to try to hold in your laugh, as you sit down besides Shay.

You share a look with Shay, letting her know that however she wants to handle this, it is okay with you. She smiles and puts her arm over the back of your chair. “It's really not that hard to think of a person that you all know.” She says, pulling their eyes back to her. The arm on your chair makes its way to your side, as she pulls you closer to her. “She's literally sitting right in front of you.” After finishing her sentence she places a kiss on your forehead and keeps holding you close. Most of the reactions to the news were comments along the lines of that’s great, congratulations, or you’ve got to keep this one around followed by Mouch pointing to the food and then giving a thumbs up. Of course, those reactions were all great, however, your favorite reactions were those of Cruz and Otis. Their eyes widened when they realized they had been flirting with Shay’s girlfriend for weeks.

The newly found information made the team quickly forget about the hickey that started the conversation, as the team was happy to see Shay so happy with you. They continued asking you both questions, how did you meet? and how long have you been together? until the alarm rang and all companies were being called to a scene. Shay kisses you before getting up, “Thank you for breakfast, baby.”

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#leslie shay #leslie shay x reader #chicago fire #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire x reader #one chicago x reader #one chicago #one chicago imagine #joe cruz #brian zvonecek #brian otis zvonecek #pockets celebration

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izloveshorses · 19 days ago

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'tis the damn season

10k, modern au, smut 🤫, good old fashioned running into your hot ex bf at your family's christmas party when you already feel weird about coming home, you know?? since it's so long, i recommend reading on ao3. but you're welcome to read the whole thing under the cut!

“More hot cocoa?”

Anya shook her head. “I think I’m too warm.”

The house was stifling and warm now with the fireplace going and this whole crowd crammed into the living room, and Anya, for once in her life, found herself a little too hot for another warm beverage.

Vlad lifted a brow at her, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a flask. “You sure?”

She had to stifle a laugh. “In that case…” she let him tip a shot into her mug before refilling. Coming home would always be strange and uncomfortable, but this man, who was more like a loveable uncle than an old family friend at this point, was always a delight to visit with. And now that she was in the latter half of her twenties she could always count on Vlad to supply her with whatever was in his flask. “How was Buenos Aires?”

“Oh, lovely and sunny as ever,” Vlad said happily. “Lily loved it. Though, Livadia is still her favorite.” Since they got married, they’d gone on at least one extravagant trip a year, and Anya could barely keep up with their itinerary. “How are you getting on? Is Paris as wonderful as I remember it?”

Anya felt her jaw tighten, just slightly. But she managed a smile. “Lovely and sunny as ever.”

“Good!” he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, unaware of the lie. He was about to say something else, but she was saved by the door squeaking open, the sound of stomping boots, the howl of the wind, a gust of hellos and welcomes. Vlad shot to his feet from the couch, nearly spilling his boozy hot cocoa. “Well, it’s good to see you, my boy! How was the drive?”

A laugh. “Slippery.”

The sound of his voice from the foyer made her heart leap to her throat. She knew he was going to be here. It wasn’t a surprise. But she felt her pulse in her jumping under neck all the same.

Dmitry was still carefully toeing his wet boots off of his feet when Anya made her way to say hello. He didn’t see her at first. Vlad was talking his ear off, other neighbors were trying to reintroduce themselves to him, Olga’s children were hugging his calves, and he was still crouched over and trying not to get the floor wet. At first she could convince herself nothing had changed at all.

But then he rose to his full height, and— no, he was not the same whatsoever. Somehow even taller. Still too handsome, with his dimpled cheeks and sharp jawline and soft brown hair and kind, warm eyes. But in the years since she had last seen him he had lost that youthful roundness of his face, chiseling his cheekbones even more, the boyish flush gone.

But his smile, when their eyes met and he lifted just one side of his mouth, like he couldn’t believe his luck, was like something from a time capsule, and suddenly she was seventeen years old and stupid all over again.

“Hey,” he finally said to her, his rich voice breaking through the others with ease, like a knife through butter.

She tried for another smile in return. “Hey.”

It appeared that was as far as they would get. People wove between them and bombarded him with greetings but those honey warm eyes never left hers. Anya opened her mouth, finally thinking of something normal to ask, when someone else came barging in the narrow entryway.

“Thank god you’re here,” Maria gasped, almost theatrically out of breath. “Please come into the kitchen and fix it. Tatya is convinced the mayo for the deviled eggs is fine, but there’s just something not right and I need someone with good taste to make her come to her senses.”

She was tugging his arm and he about lost his balance. “All right, all right, I’m happy to help.”

He and Anya shared another look before he was gone.

Dmitry Sudayev. One of the many reasons she could never come home, not really. But also probably the only reason she still did.

An arm came around Anya’s shoulders. “Help me refill the punch,” Olga asked in a way that was very much implying this task had nothing to do with the punch. Anya had no choice but to walk in step with her oldest sister.

She helped carry the dishes of citrus slices and pitcher to the drink table. “Is it okay that he’s here?” Olga asked in a low voice while she stirred the punch bowl. “Do you want me to shoo him out?”

Anya bit her lip. “It’s fine, Olya.” Her sister lifted her eyes to her in unforgiving disbelief. But Anya, upon even more reflection, believed she was being honest. “Really. That was all a long time ago.”

Olga pursed her lips. “Three years is still a long time to be with someone, Nastya.”

“I know, but— we were so young.” Anya waved her hand, trying to dismiss it all. As if he still wasn’t one of the most influential people in her life, whether he was in it or not. “I haven’t seen him in— in years.” She had lost count of the time spent away. But when she sat down and did the math, she hadn’t been back home in nearly a decade. “It will be good to catch up with him.”

Olga studied her, searching for the catch, the hesitancy. She had always been able to see right through each and every one of them. Sometimes it was comforting, knowing how fiercely protective her family was of her, but other times, like right now, it reminded her too much of Mamma when she was picking a fight. “You could come home more often, you know.”

Anya walked right into that one, didn’t she. “No,” she shook her head, “I really can’t.”

Olga smiled sadly. “Okay. If you’re sure. About— him, I mean.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

A blur of squealing children crashed at their feet, and Olga was whisked away, leaving Anya to her own devices. The moment was over. Not alone, though, not in this house, not with this crowd. She didn’t quite recognize some of the faces. Others she knew, but couldn’t place their names and she prayed they wouldn’t come talk to her. Maybe her little corner by the punch bowl was safe for now. Speakers blared classic Christmas carols, the fire crackled, wind howled against the frosted windows, someone hollered a laugh at some ridiculous joke, her nieces were squealing and running underfoot. She caught the eye of her father from across the room. He gave her a wink before returning to his conversation.

This weekend wasn’t all bad. She loved her nieces and nephew with everything in her, and it had been good to catch up with her sisters. Alexei was due to arrive tomorrow. Last night she and Maria had decided to bake cookies for some reason, nearly in tears laughing at something stupid with their fingers caked in dough, like they were giggling little girls again.

But. It was this. These parties, this lifestyle, that was slowly sucking the life out of her.

Anya wasn’t sure what this made her, but she couldn’t help the resentment growing inside of her, for some reason. That her family was too good and wonderful to leave without feeling guilt tainting her newfound independence.

“This looks good.”

She woke from her dark thoughts to find Dmitry standing there, thumbing a plastic chinet cup, warm eyes on her. “It’s not too bad.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. He helped himself to a scoop of punch and he leaned against the wall next to her, his arm not quite brushing hers. Was he always this tall? There was no way. He had at least a full foot on her. He had always been muscular, but now his shoulders seemed to have broadened even more in her absence, filling out his cable knit sweater easily. The collar of his button up underneath the wool was crooked and poking out, and her fingers twitched with the urge to fix it.

Instead she asked, “Are the deviled eggs saved?”

He cracked a smile, a sliver of white teeth. “It was a close call, but yes, they indeed will be edible.”

“Thank god.”

He was still smiling when he tilted his cup back for a sip. “How long has it been? Five years?”

Anya wiped her hand on her jeans. It wasn’t like they parted on bad terms— things just kind of fizzled out after she left, which would have happened with any relationship, strong or not. But she felt strangely nervous to be around him again all the same. He still smelled like the crisp snow outside, but with a little clove, a little cinnamon. She had to stop herself from outright sniffing him like a freak. “Eight.”

“Damn. Time flies, I guess.” He dropped a brow. “But… wouldn’t I have seen you when you came home for the holidays?”

She shook her head. “Almost every year the family has been out of town for Christmas.”

Sometimes they visited her in Paris. Sometimes they ventured elsewhere. Those trips helped, if she was honest. She could come and go on her own terms, travel separately, slip away to do something touristy just to have a moment to herself. And none of those places had any memories rotting their walls.

Dmitry nodded. “That’s right.”

There was a pause, nothing but Sinatra and the ambient chatter filling the space between them. She fished for another topic. “I hear you got an apartment.”

“Yep. Right on the town square.”

She smiled. “Moving on up in the world, huh.”

He laughed and ducked his head. Against his cheek his eyelashes were thick, dark, long. Always beautiful. “It’s not Paris, but I do have my own washer and dryer unit.”

“You made it!”

“Living the dream.”

They shared smiles, but Anya felt that sadness creeping up her stomach, making her look down at her cup again. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “You actually made it out. Like— like we talked about.”

Like they talked about. Whispering plans of escape from this dead end town in a parked car, or in the middle of the night with his arms around her and a laptop playing a movie they had long stopped watching, or in a booth at the diner they always went to after school because it had the best fries, their feet touching under the table. Fantasizing loading up his car and driving west as far as they could go, or booking a flight to Paris with nothing but backpacks on their shoulders and cash in their pockets. Longing for a grander life than the dull monotony that was dealt to them. To see just how big the world could be, how big they could be.

She did make it out. But what was the cost?

Leaving him behind, her heart whispered. But she ignored the thought, because her heart was acting like a stupid seventeen year old girl again and nothing productive came from that.

She was about to respond when a hysterical cry came from the hallway.

“What a disaster!”

Anya and Dmitry exchanged a microscopic, knowing look, before Anya mustered up some energy to leave her corner of safety and investigate.

Mamma was weeping, three daughters flanking her protectively, petting her and offering gentle and logical words of comfort. “It will be okay, Mamma,” one of them was saying, “People won’t even notice,” said another.

“Of course they’ll notice,” their mother shooed them away. “I feel a headache coming on. The party is ruined.”

“What’s the matter?” Anya asked.

Olga answered, “We are out of ice.”

“Ice?” Anya should’ve known. There were no such things as real disasters in this house. “Is there none in the ice maker in the freezer?”

“We are all out.”

Maria gave Anya a tired look. “And everyone is parked in the driveway, so we can’t get the car out of the garage without alerting everyone. And we’re about to be snowed in, anyway.”

“We could just go outside…” Anya started, trying to lighten the mood. “Chip off some icicles from the roof and we’ll be all set.”

No one laughed. It wasn’t even that funny, anyway. “We can’t have a party without ice,” Mamma went on, dabbing at her eyes theatrically. “This is so embarrassing. It’s been such a stressful week— I’m afraid this is setting me over the edge.”

“We need ice?” Dmitry appeared, as if by magic, his voice once again alerting Anya, like some kind of beacon. Always here to fix things with the gentlest solutions. “I was the last one here, I can run out and grab some.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that— not in this weather.”

“It’s really no trouble, I put chains on my tires already, and—”

“Oh, would you?” Her mother patted his cheek, suddenly relieved. “We can always count on you to be our best errand boy, Dmitry. Thank you.”

Anya frowned in appalled shock. But before she could scold her mother for belittling him so easily Dmitry only smiled with good humor and told her, “Any time.”

Anya felt him brush past her on his way to the foyer. She followed her family into the kitchen. There was more talk about the party, how well or not well it was going, was the punch bowl refilled? Yes. Okay. What about the charcuterie selection? No, let’s get the stuff out of the fridge— what do you mean we’re out of the top shelf aged Romano blend? More weeping. Anya sighed and made her way to the door.

Dmitry was still putting on his layers, thankfully, when she started stuffing her feet into her boots. She could feel him halting, watching her in confusion.

“I’m coming with you,” she explained. Where was her scarf? “Mamma— we need more cheese.”

“Ah,” he said, sounding like that explained absolutely nothing. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to just tell me to pick some up while I’m out?”

“No, because I know which one she wants, and if they don’t have it I know what her second choice would be, and if that choice fails I know her third, and that would be too complicated to explain.”

When she looked up at him he nodded. “Ah.” And then there was that stupid smile that she had never been able to resist, not when she was seventeen, nor now, when she was twenty-seven, either, apparently. “Bundle up, Romanov.”

Dmitry’s car was still the same old Volvo he drove ten years ago. There was a single dent in the passenger door, a new air freshener hanging from the rear view, a tear in the upholstery. But it was running well, he took good care of it. He took care of what was his.

Aside from the Christmas tunes quietly playing on the stereo they were quiet as they made their way to the grocery. Anya had watched him brush the snow off the windows, losing the battle against the precipitation falling down now. The windshield was still foggy when he pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was dark and the snowfall was thick, and he was driving slow, in case there were any slick spots. She couldn’t help but study his profile. That familiar bump in his once-broken nose, thick eyebrows, doll lips, dimpled cheeks. Both his hands were wrapped securely around the steering wheel but, in spite of the less than ideal driving conditions, he seemed more relaxed out here without the gaggle of party guests to contend with. She supposed they still had that in common.

He declared, rather sudden, “I’m fully convinced your mother still hates me.”

Anya snorted. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling, joking with her, doing his best to keep things easy. This was the Dmitry she was familiar with— comfortable in his space, soft edges, a little sleep deprived. So she decided to joke with him too. “I think she thinks you’re the evil boy who took my virginity.”

He coughed, surprised. “But I— didn’t!”

“You didn’t.”

He didn’t. Three years was a long time to date someone, yes, but they were so young��

There was that burning twist of embarrassment again, on his behalf. “I’m sorry she called you that. Back there.”

“Don’t be. I run errands for her all the time.”

“You… hang out with my family?”

“No, I run errands, if they need something.” Dmitry shrugged. “I don’t know, with Alexei off in med school, and everyone else moved out and settled, I just think… I don’t know, it must be lonely. And it’s not like she knows better.”

She shifted in her seat, looking at him square, trying to read him. “You seem so different.”

In the dark, his eyebrows rose. “Am I?”

“Well— like… you’re… mostly the same,” she said, tilting her head. “But a little different.”

“Different how?”

“You’re… taller, for one.”

He laughed. “Taller? Have you considered that you just stopped growing in fifth grade?”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is that the only difference you see?”

She pushed her mouth to the side. “You dress better now, too.”

His lips pulled, showing his teeth with his grin. “You mean disgusting old hoodies and sweats weren’t all the rage fifteen years ago?”

“It’s a compliment.”

“A backhanded one.”

“A real one. God.” She shook her head, facing the windshield again. “But I don’t know. Maybe different isn’t the right word. You just… seem really happy to me.”

He shot a quick glance at her. “You know… I might be.”

She watched, waited. He wet his lips while he steered them left at the intersection. “I don’t know. It’s— it’s not the life I expected, I guess, but… it’s not too bad. I like my job and my coworkers. I like where I live. I can’t… really ask for much else.”

She felt that twist in her gut again, a little pinch. It wasn’t envy, exactly, but it had the same effect. “Where do you work, again?”

“Nothing fancy. I just fix computers at some corporate office downtown.”

“What do you mean? That’s so fancy!” She pushed his shoulder and he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

With some more gentle probing, he told her a little more, bit by bit, of his life here. He slowly chipped away at his degree one class at a time when he could afford it, worked odd jobs waiting tables and even bartended for a time, lived with Vlad until he had enough saved for the little apartment above the post office on the town square.

Maybe it was selfish, but she allowed herself a moment to consider this, what it would’ve been like if she had stayed. Watching Dmitry grow less moody and instead channel his feelings into helpful and selfless tasks, driving through the snow to get ice for the holiday party every year, living above a post office, Dmitry’s eyes and hands always available to look at. And some small part of her longed for that life, the life she missed, almost as much as she had once longed to escape. The alluring appeal of what could have been.

Maybe she would be happy, too.

But staying here… it had nearly eaten her alive. The itch— the burn— to go, to get out, was too intense. She didn’t think she would’ve survived another year here. So when she got into her dream college, she had packed her car and didn’t look back. Didn’t think about how the one person who really, really understood her couldn’t follow yet. Didn’t think about how that distance ruined them.

They parked in the nearly empty lot, crossing coats over their chests to keep the warmth from getting lost in the biting chill. It was the kind of cold that reached down to your bones, freezing you from the inside out.

Anya expected that from him, honestly. To be just as cold as this wind. It was what she deserved.

But Dmitry was all warmth and easy smiles, letting her walk ahead to the dairy section. Maybe he really had changed. Maybe this… maybe this was good, then. That he had grown so much. Or maybe he was being too forgiving.

“You seem different to me, too,” he said, watching her search for the goddamn right cheese.

She lost focus, eyes drifting to him. “Me?”

“Yeah. You’re…” he wet his bottom lip, waving his hand, searching for the right word. “Quiet.”

Quiet. Huh. She looked back at the shelf of artisan cheese. “I guess coming home does that to me,” she finally said.

“I know,” he said softly, and something about the tone of his voice made her meet his eyes again. He knew. He knew how hard it was, coming home from college, being bombarded with questions why she couldn’t just be content with her lot in life like everyone else. Why she couldn’t just settle and marry a rich man in accounting and have a bunch of babies. Dmitry had always been her one escape, her one thing in life she could call hers, not the family’s. Maybe it wasn’t exactly healthy, but. They had found relief in only one another.

And here they were. Hiding from her family, yet again, escaping in the smallest ways.

His warm eyes swam through hers. “How’s Paris?”

She sighed. “Paris is… is really good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s… honestly? It’s the fucking best.” She finally found the Romano blend she was looking for, snatching it as she talked. “I get to see all these really cool places all the time and go to museums and try good food and meet really awesome people and— and it’s beyond anything I could’ve dreamed it would be.”

“Yeah?” They walked side by side to the front of the store. “I’ll bet you’ve got some good stories.”

“I do. It’s just…” she bit her lip, watching as his smile slowly fell into something more serious. “I feel a little out of my depth.”

“Really?” He pulled his chin back in surprise. “I never thought that was possible for you.”

He said it like he meant it, which made her confession all the more difficult. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course.”

“I don’t… really know what I’m doing.”

He smiled, sad, and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Welcome to the club.”

And for some reason, that gentle gesture made something inside her chest loosen, a valve opening. So many people had offered her advice, both solicited and unsolicited, and so far, his four little words made her feel better than anything anyone else had said.

Like if Dmitry thought she was all right, then maybe she could start thinking that, too.

God, she missed him.

They paid for the ice and the cheese and made their way back to the car. The cold didn’t feel as lonely and bitter as it did before, now she welcomed it. Compared to the stifling heat of her house the wind was refreshing, expanding in her lungs, crisp in her nose. Like she could breathe again.

Snow crunched under tires while Dmitry slowly inched his car out of the parking lot. The town was buried under a hearty layer of white but Anya still recognized the street. The shops, the pharmacy, the gas station, all where she had spent her youth. And then there were new buildings in the place of the old, too shiny and sleek and colorless for anyone who lived here. Dmitry quietly pointed out the chain restaurant that just popped up at this intersection a few months ago.

She had left this place because it felt like nothing about it would ever change. But now, seeing how some of it had changed in her absence, she found herself wishing it had stayed the same.

“We could turn here,” Dmitry started slowly as they approached the intersection of her subdivision, “or—”

“Why wouldn’t we? That’s my street.”

“Or…” he went on, “we could just drive around…”

Oh. He was offering her an out. Like he used to do. Giving her the opportunity to escape, just a little longer. She wet her lips. When her arm brushed against his in the middle he didn’t pull away. Neither did she. “I think they can wait on the ice a little longer.”

He shot her a grin. “Just one more loop around the block won’t hurt.”

No, it wouldn’t. A few extra minutes alone with Dmitry never hurt anyone.

The party came and went, and was about as fun and stressful as Anya knew it would be. Everyone filed out around midnight. Vlad and Lily crashed in the guest room, and somehow convinced Dmitry to stay the night as well, who took the couch.

For some reason Anya could feel his presence from all the way upstairs in her bedroom.

Anya was still wide awake, still in her sweater and jeans, too restless to get settled. Too much on her mind to read. She stood from her desk chair and decided something warm and soothing would help her fall asleep. The house was silent as she crept down the hall and down the stairs, assuming everyone else was long asleep, save for the wind whistling outside. After several hours of noise and chatter and songs that all sounded the same, the silence was a luxury.

But when she rounded the corner there was a lamp illuminating the living room. Dmitry was reclining on the couch with a book in his hand, one arm propped under his head. They locked eyes.

“Hey.”

They got stuck on this greeting for the second time that night. Then Anya thought she should probably explain why she was sneaking into the kitchen. “I can’t sleep, so I’m making some tea.”

“I can’t either,” he answered, waving his book.

He kicked off his throw blanket and sat up. He was still in his clothes from tonight, but the sight of him stretching, bleary eyed and sleepy, was almost too intimate for her to handle, so she had to glance away.

“Want me to make you something?” he asked suddenly.

She raised an eyebrow. “A drink?”

“Yeah. Like— like we used to do.”

He said it shyly, almost, like he was realizing how stupid the suggestion sounded once he spoke it out loud. She nodded. “Something with cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon. Got it.” He shot her a smile while they filed into the kitchen. “Booze?”

“Sure.”

The kitchen was in a state after the party— clean, yes, but with the assistance of people who no longer lived or had never lived in this home many of the dishes were placed in the wrong cabinets. But Dmitry was quiet, careful not to slam drawers shut, silently finding what he needed. A saucepan. Cinnamon sticks. What little was left in the bottle of whiskey from tonight. A pint of Tatiana’s oat milk from the fridge. A box of tea bags. Apple cider packets.

Dmitry really had always been beautiful. In some ways he knew it— his perfect hair, his boyish dimples— but in other, quieter ways, he didn’t. How somber he could get. How soft he looked when he was tired. How his smile lit up his entire face, an entire room. Anya watched, transfixed by his hands. Always so sure of himself. Always intentional. Comfortable in his space. She envied him a little.

“What were you reading?” She asked instead of letting herself think too much. He hadn’t been much of a reader back then, admittedly, until she convinced him to read a few Terry Pratchett novels with her one summer. And then he started having a paperback folded in his back pocket everywhere he went.

“Oh,” he shrugged, as if embarrassed she noticed he still kept that habit. Leftover from what they once were to each other. “Vonnegut.”

“Again?”

He sighed. “Look— he’s a good writer, okay?”

“I’m not judging you by any means,” she smiled. He poured his concoction from the saucepan that had been simmering for a few quiet minutes into two mugs and leaned against the counter next to her. It was still steaming when he put one into her hands. A few years ago, or in another life, she would’ve hopped up on the counter, kicking her legs girlishly, but her feet stayed planted on the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t be. I can’t focus, anyway. And besides,” he lifted his mug to hers, “this is more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut.”

“How could anything be more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut?”

He rolled his eyes, but took his sip, clearly waiting for her to try it. And she did and— holy shit, this was a masterpiece. He used to take her tea and doctor it up for her for fun, adding a few extra spices or experimenting with ways to froth the milk, but this was miles ahead of the silly ideas they would come up with. The warmth from the spices, the kick of the cinnamon, the smooth creaminess of the milk, and that dash of apple…

Before she could compliment him, he said, into his mug, “And, well, you know how I can never really say no to you.”

He said it lightly, like he was teasing. But Anya felt her stomach clench all the same. Her stupid stupid, stupid seventeen year old girl heart.

Anya set her mug down on the counter between them. “It’s always scared me a little,” she heard herself confessing quietly, before she thought better of it. “How much you’re willing to give me.”

Dmitry’s eyes were molten, warm and soft, malleable, giving too much away. “Me too.” He straightened, facing his torso towards hers. “But maybe there’s…”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. For one fraction of a second her eyes flickered, watching the Cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and back up again. Her fingers touched his, still warm from the tea. “Maybe.”

So that was how Anya found herself wedged between her childhood bedroom door and the solid body of her high school boyfriend, hips and mouths locked together, like they were hormonal teenagers all over again.

Coming home would always be complicated. But this? The way she felt about him, everything about Dmitry himself, how good his mouth felt melded to hers, the way he could make her feel seen and safe and adventurous all at once, was somehow always the simplest truth in the world. And she was starting to think that would never change.

His hand came up around the nape of her neck, tongue swiping the inside of her upper lip, and— yeah. This. All of this. It was so easy.

She still didn’t know where they stood, really, and she knew this probably wasn’t a good idea. But they had always had chemistry this way, with their bodies, taking no time to get reacquainted. They didn’t even really have to talk for him to know what she wanted. And this was more fun and easy to think about than… everything else going on.

Just for the weekend, she thought. Just for the weekend they could pretend. That she was his.

His hand slid up under her sweater and he had her gasping when he squeezed her breast. “Oh my god—”

“Shhh,” he brushed a thumb over her lips. “Don’t want to wake the whole house, do we?”

She shook her head, catching her breath now that his mouth wasn’t on hers, trying to steady it. Her hands were zealously roaming his chest, his stomach, his neck, as if trying to convince her skin this wasn’t a dream. His smell of clove and pine was overwhelming now. If his collar was crooked before it was a mess now, complete with his hair mused and cheeks a splotchy pink, the way they were always flushed when he was younger. She smiled a little. “This takes me back.”

He grinned. “Me too.” He looked around, as if noticing their surroundings the first time. “This room has… not changed at all, I see.” No. It hadn’t. Not her boyband posters on her door, the purple lampshades, the pink shag rug in the shape of a heart, the books on her shelves, postcards pinned on the wall. Another time capsule.

“Haven’t been home to change it.”

“Ah, right.”

Instead of talking about that some more, she kissed him again, continuing where they left off, his hand still cupping her cheek. He tasted like the tea they shared— all cinnamon and spice. He had always been weirdly good at kissing, even when they were teenagers, but now his skills seemed to have sharpened, using his tongue a little more intentionally rather than as a curious experiment. Her leg lifted, looping around his hip, and he caught her thigh, his other hand still cupping at her bra. Even though they were rocking together merely over their clothes she still felt a zing of want zip right through her at the feel of him. All hard and needy and wanting just as much as her.

He yanked himself away again, his head lifting out of her reach. “Shit— wait— I don’t have a condom.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing him away from her. “Ye of little faith.” He lifted a surprised eyebrow. “In my purse, dummy.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So you’re just… ready to go anywhere then, huh.”

“Better to be prepared and embarrassed than take the risk.”

His smile was small, knowing. If he was anyone else, she would almost call it mocking, but not with him. Never him. No, he knew her too well, even now. He was, dare she call it, fond of her for being so practical.

Their lips met again in the middle. He sighed hard against her cheek, smile dropping while she deepened the kisses, slow and soft. She had her hand on his chest, advancing forwards while he stumbled backwards. When she shoved him back and he landed on the bed, the mattress squeaked noisily, and Dmitry winced. “Well, this won’t work,” he whispered.

She was standing between his knees, her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips. She bit her lip, glancing over at the rug...

“You mean,” he started, deadpan, “you want me to fuck you on the floor.”

“No, I want to fuck you on the floor.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “No way,” he said, but the flush of his cheeks meant his protests were insincere. “You deserve better than an old shag rug from 2008, Anya.”

She huffed. “Fine, you can let yourself out then.”

“No no no.” When she started to pull away his fingers came around her belt loops in her jeans and he tugged her even closer. “Just kidding. The shag rug is a fantasy of mine, actually.”

That made her laugh, she had to cover her mouth. He pulled her wrist away and kissed it, then kissed her lips, smiling against her, still holding her by the belt loops of her jeans. And then his hands were lifting the hem of her sweater, so she raised her arms over her head and he peeled it off of her completely. His eyes stayed on hers but his hands, warm and soft, found her sides, holding her ribs. He stood again and he let her lift his sweater off of him. Let her unbutton his shirt, one button at a time.

He had always been strong. But he had only grown more sculpted, more muscular, more solid, with age. Her hands skimmed over the strong mounds of his chest and down his solid abdomen. Smooth skin, endless, warm, alive. His flush went from his cheeks down his neck, over his chest, creeping all the way down his stomach.

“My eyes are up here, Romanov.”

She felt her face warm and she smiled up at him. “Are you getting shy on me?”

His lips brushed over hers when he asked, “Do you want me to be?”

She played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want you to be you.”

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered before his mouth closed over her top lip. His hands slid up her back and when she felt the unclasping of her bra she shivered a little. That too was tossed away. And his arms were tight around her, chest to chest, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

They had never quite gotten to this point, back then. Sure, they made out, they touched each other, but they always had at least most of their clothes on and stopped before anything could really happen. But now…

“God, if eighteen-year-old me could see myself right now…”

Dmitry was lowering himself on the ground to lean against the bedpost, kissing her stomach, guiding her—still by the belt loops— to sit on his lap, her knees bracketing his hips, their lungs touching. She arched her back into him, and he happily let his hands slide up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. “Worth the wait?”

“You have…” his mouth came down to the side of her neck, warm palms on her bare breasts, “no fucking idea.”

Her head tilted back at his ministrations, trying to stifle her sighs while his hands kneaded at her. He was firm, confident, but also gentle. Soft. She bit her lip. “We never exactly made it this far before, huh?”

He lifted his head, their eyes meeting, his hands halting. “We don’t have to go further, if—”

“Are you kidding?” Her hands came up to the side of his face. “This is the most interesting thing to happen since I got home.”

The corner of his mouth curled. “That’s a pretty, uh, low bar…”

“You know what I mean.” She brushed his cheeks with her thumbs, then tangled her fingers in his hair. “Please, just— keep touching me, Dima.”

Now he was fully smiling. “Okay.”

And he did touch her. But not with his hands.

His arms came around her lower back, pulling their stomachs flush together, while she had her shoulders and head tilted back for him, and his mouth came down, dragging over her throat, her chest, like he was savoring the very flavor of her skin. And then his tongue was licking at her nipple and she had to close her eyes. His teeth nipped at the soft skin of the inside of her breast, making her hiss.

“Hey, no hickies.”

He practically growled. “Logically, I know that, but… if i’m being honest…” he was still sucking kisses down the center line of her chest, “part of me really doesn’t give a shit.”

She smirked. “This part?” she asked, grinding down hard and pointedly on him. He groaned.

“Sure, yeah, whatever. Sue me.”

She tugged his hair so he would look at her. “You’re gonna need a really good lawyer, Sudayev.”

He laughed. “How about…” he lifted her at her hips, shifting them both until she was on her back, “I do some community service.”

Anya allowed a smile, bit her lip. “The court might agree with that.”

“Jury rests?”

“Court adjourned!”

Dmitry started tugging her jeans down, struggling with the fabric, impatient. “God, I— I really fucking missed you.”

She missed him too, more than she realized. Not just this— his warm and solid body, his handsome face, his ability to make her stop breathing— but all of him. His laugh. The way he could pull a giggle out of her on her worst day. The way he was the only soul who could spot every one of her fake smiles. The way they could dream together, talk together, sit in silence together.

He was shoving one of her pillows between her hips and the floor, and grabbing another throw blanket for good measure. The sweetness, the consideration behind his gesture, broke her heart a little bit.

“There’s no one else like you, Dima.”

Dark eyes met hers. Soft. So soft. “Is that a good thing?”

She nodded. More than he knew.

“Hmm.” He hesitated just a moment more, then his eyes dropped between her legs, and she felt herself burning from the inside out. “Do you need help staying quiet?”

She grinned, for some reason. His confidence was bordering on arrogance. “I think I can handle it.”

“You sure?” He pressed a single, wet hot kiss onto the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. “Because I really, really don’t want your family to know what we’re up to. So it’s okay if you—”

“It’s fine, Dmitry, I’ll manage. Just—”

She gasped when his tongue parted her folds in one long swipe. Fuck. She hadn’t expected him to feel this good. Her hips squirmed under him when his mouth engulfed her, but his hands quickly pinned her in place, so as not to interrupt his work.

After a minute of this he lifted his head and a single eyebrow at her, knowing smirk on his lips. “All good?”

God, he was so smug. She nodded. “Fine enough,” she said, trying to feign nonchalance, but it was hard with how heavy she was breathing, how much she needed his mouth on her again, so much she was burning.

He laughed silently, like he knew. He fucking knew. “Just checking.”

When he resumed, she had to bite on a knuckle to keep from making any more noises, breathing hard through her nose. Fuck.

When she had been with other guys, this part was… never all that memorable. Just something to get ready for the main event. So she had half expected Dmitry to treat it the same way, because what reason did she have to believe otherwise? But… she was eating those words now. It wasn’t like he was even doing anything particularly spectacular. But maybe it was how he was doing it. Intentional, making her wait for it, generous. Not trying to rush her through it like others had, but rather taking his time, enjoying it. In a way that was so playfully and irrevocably him.

And before she knew it, that pressure in her lower stomach was already mounting, so high already she wasn’t even prepared for it. The only warning she managed was snagging the hair at the top of his head. Because if she spoke it aloud, it would come out in a loud, pathetic moan, or a shout. And they couldn’t have that. Not tonight.

His eyes darted up to hers. A shiver raced up her spine. He stayed right where he was, continuing his ministrations, but faster and faster with each cycle, somehow understanding exactly what she needed before she could even think to voice it herself. A tightness coiled within her and she had to cling hard onto the fibers of the rug.

“Breathe,” he whispered against her. And she let out an exhale she didn’t know she was holding.

And that was it. Gravity pulled her over the edge, and she was left gasping silently, her back arching off the floor. She had to shut her eyes, but Dmitry was right there with her, his presence impossible to ignore, even for a second.

“So good,” he was whispering, over and over again, kissing his way back up her body. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Her body relaxed completely, breathing heavily and melting into the floor, eyes sleepy, but she still found the side of his face, pulling him close enough to kiss. He grinned against her. He was so warm, so solid, so sturdy above her. One of her hands slipped into his hair, and when she wove her fingers through the strands he exhaled heavily. Content.

“Before we do anything else,” he started, “you should probably know, while you were gone, I was sort of seeing—”

“Don’t,” she stopped him with a finger to his lips, “I don’t even care.” And then she was fumbling with the button of his jeans. “As long as I don’t have to share you this weekend, I don’t give a shit who you’ve been sleeping with.”

He smiled a little. “You never have to share me.”

She didn’t want to know, didn’t need to think about that right now. She didn’t think he needed to know she only ever thought of him when she was with other men, either. Give and take.

Taking off his pants took longer than necessary because she kept kissing him, and his hand was cupping her face, so they were moving a little uncoordinated, a little unpracticed, laughing softly into mouths. And then he was finally stepping out of his boxers and they were both bare, miles of warm skin on skin, patient and unrushed as ever. She felt like she was baring her very soul to him.

He handed her her purse and she dug through until she found the condom wrapper. Dmitry was arranging the blanket around him, so she “wouldn’t get rug burn,” he explained, and the gesture made affection well up in her so suddenly she could almost cry. She missed him, she missed him, she missed him.

“This feels like a dream,” Dmitry rasped, gasping a little while she rolled the condom on him before straddling his thighs. He was in the middle of the floor, propping himself up with his hands behind him. “I never thought— I never thought this would happen. With you.”

Anya was holding his shoulders and neck, taking her time. She pushed his bangs out of his eyes. It was dark in the room so she couldn’t make out every detail of him, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try while she had the chance. “I had a feeling this would happen someday.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to come home.”

His eyes shone, searching, before his mouth collided with her own. His hands found her hips. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him inside her. Without breaking their kiss she moved until she could feel him at her entrance, then she slowly sunk around him. His mouth parted in a silent gasp, breathing hard when she was fully seated on him, while they both took each other in. This was real. This was happening.

When she lifted her hips just a fraction, testing the give, he let out this little moan that made her spine tingle. “Anya— Anya— you feel so much better than— than I ever could’ve—”

Her hand flew up to cover his mouth in panic. She froze, smirking a little. “Do you need help being quiet, Dmitry?”

“No,” he huffed, annoyed and amused at the same time. “You’re still such a brat.”

She grinned. “That’s not very nice to say.”

He sighed, extra dramatic and theatrical, and lamented, “This is also gonna fuck up my back.”

“Your old man back? You’re not even thirty.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m two years younger than you.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“I can’t believe how much you’re complaining when you’re literally about to get laid,” she hissed. He grinned. “I can get up, if you’re so bothered…”

“No,” he repeated, hands tightening on her hips, quite possibly already leaving marks. And he lifted half of his mouth. “I like it. Keep being mean to me.”

She laughed a little, biting her lip. She rolled her hips once more and Dmitry tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, like he was praying, or something. And then she was moving for real, trying to feel him everywhere at once. The stretch of him was unbelievable. Her nipples brushed against his warm chest, their stomachs sliding together, and she— she couldn’t get enough of him—

“Slow,” he inhaled the word, “slow, slow, slow.”

Anya didn’t realize how fast she was moving. She let her hips slow to a gentle roll, making love to him the way he deserved, and he was looking at her like she hung the moon, like she was a miracle.

She had been with other men before, of course. They had just moved for a while, eyes shut, until they were done, and then rolled over like nothing happened and that was that. But there was something about Dmitry. Maybe it was his commitment to eye contact, or the way he used his hands, or the ten years of suspense building up to this moment. Or it was just the ache in her for him that had never quite gone away.

“Dima,” she murmured, trying her best to keep her voice steady and quiet. “I really missed you.”

His mouth twitched, nearly smiling, breath fanning her face. “Can’t believe this is what— what we’ve been missing out on—”

So he felt it too, then. How this was better than it was supposed to be. “Fuck— I know.” She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her legs shifted so her ankles were locked around his back, needing to be as close to him as possible, moving back and forth, her arms around his shoulders. His hips were eagerly rocking to meet hers. His hands slowly slid up from her waist to cup her breasts, squeezing and clinging on like a tether, making her feel a little wild and need to move faster.

There wasn’t much movement, not in such an intimate position like this, but it was still beyond anything Anya had ever felt before. With him she could try anything, do anything. Kissing necks and biting earlobes turned to swallowing moans that were too loud for this kind of night turned to simply touching foreheads and just breathing together, unable to properly kiss because they were panting so hard. His arms came around her lower back and her nails dug hard into his shoulders. When she inhaled she could feel him breathing with her, could feel his heart against her own.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he kept whispering. Over, and over, and over again. “I’m so close.”

She was too. She didn’t realize it at first, how this crept up on her. But suddenly there it was and she was about at the point where she couldn’t avoid it anymore. This ending. But he was looking at her like that, so desperate and loving. She cupped the side of his face. “I’m right there with you.”

He kissed her, hard, and she let go, moving without abandon, chasing her own high. And they both reached this crest together, mouths muffling their gasps and moans, hearts drumming against one another. Connected in every possible point of contact.

He exhaled against her, eyes swimming through hers, lips swollen and parted. He was so beautiful. Her hand came up to fold into the hair at the back of his neck. And Dmitry gave her that stupid, crooked smile she fell in love with all those years ago. And suddenly this whole thing was very funny.

Sure, everything was different. But what she had with Dmitry… he would always be able to make her laugh at the most inopportune times.

He slowly flattened himself on his back, chest still heaving, and he rubbed his face. “Jesus.”

She was still smiling, and was about to move to get up off of him but his hands stopped her by holding her thighs.

“No, just— stay, for a minute.” His eyes met hers. “Please.”

Dmitry had told her he could never really say no to her. But little did he know, Anya had that same problem with him sometimes.

So she got comfortable, laying on his chest and tucking herself under his chin. They were still on the floor, shivering a little, and Anya needed to pee, but neither were in a hurry. They already lost so much time.

Dmitry was weaving his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Her fingers traced little hearts on his chest. And then there was that feeling again, the road not taken, the path that was this that could’ve been her life. The one collateral lost in her escape.

“Does sex make you quiet, too?” he asked.

“No, it’s just— I’m just thinking.”

“You’re thinking really hard…” he went on. She could feel him smiling, feel his need for her to stay present. She needed to do her best to do that, at least. For him. “I can, like, almost hear your brain.”

She took a breath. “I didn’t want— I hated leaving you,” she whispered. He stilled. So she sat up to look at him, to gauge his reaction, even though she knew she was killing the mood where it stood. He looked so perfect with his swollen lips and hair falling into his eyes and his heavy and serious eyelids and lashes. Her chest pinched. “That wasn’t what I intended.”

His expression flickered, just faintly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“I just— I think I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t. You don’t need to.” His thumb stroked her cheek. He chewed his lip, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. So was she. There were just… simply too many things they hadn’t told each other, too many words to cram into this small space between them, into one night, one weekend. But then he smiled, saying simply, “Consider us even.”

Slowly she let herself smile, let herself believe it. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Not that— not that there was a score to settle, or anything.”

She nodded. “I know.”

And she kissed him, soft and slow, and didn’t bother coming up for air.

Only a few hours later, Anya was watching the first signs of sunrise through her window, bundled up in her blankets and a pair of arms in her bed.

It had been disorienting waking up in here this weekend. But now, Dmitry’s arms were grounding, steady and solid, reminding her that last night had indeed not been a beautiful, delusional dream. The dichotomy of things staying the same and changing all at once.

The mattress creaked when she rolled over. There she found Dmitry already awake. The twin bed wasn’t nearly large enough for the two of them, but their bodies were curved together, all warmth and limbs and hair and bedsheet, and Dmitry certainly wasn’t complaining. He smiled softly, nosing her hairline, his arms still enveloping her in his warmth.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” Anya whispered back.

“Merry Christmas.”

His smirk was so contagious. “I, like, completely forgot about Christmas.”

“Really? This was once your favorite time of year, from what I remember.”

“It was.” She could feel him breathing against her forehead, his nose squished against her skin, his heartbeat under his collarbone. She didn’t want her foul mood from the weeks before to spoil how unbelievably happy she was right now, but there was still a bit of sadness in her voice. “I dunno. I’ve been feeling a little Grinch-like this year.”

“Well, you know,” he sighed, pretending to be serious, “I consider the Grinch to be an anti-capitalist hero, so—” Anya snorted, wheezing out a laugh before she could cover her mouth. “It’s true!”

“Stop,” she pushed a palm to his face, because she seriously needed to calm down and quit giggling this early in the morning.

“He saw how consumerism was poisoning the holiday and—”

“Stop it.”

Yeah. She missed this. She missed him so much her heart ached.

Dmitry swallowed, watching her, waiting until she recovered, looking almost apologetic. “I should probably sneak out of here before anyone else in this house wakes up.”

“Yeah,” she said. And then she smiled. “Just like old times.”

He grinned, his eyes softening as he looked over her. He pushed a curl over her shoulder. “Almost.”

Almost like old times. He had spent the night in secret before, he had snuck out in the morning before, either through her window or out the front door before dawn, but they had never woken so very naked and satiated back then.

“I know we never exactly did this before,” Anya started, sighing when he started pressing slow, gentle, featherlight kisses on her skin, starting at her shoulder, “but I’m feeling so much deja vu right now.”

Dmitry snorted, his breath tickling her neck. “Christ, I know.” He sighed. “Remember when I snuck out your window and I sprained my ankle?”

She had to bite back a laugh at the memory. “And you lied and said it was from— what did you say? Soccer practice? Did you even play soccer?”

He was laughing silently against her skin, shoulders shaking, “I think the story changed every time I talked about it.”

“Oh my god,” she had to cover part of her face. “We were so stupid.”

“No, I was stupid. You were…” he pulled his head back, eyes meeting hers again. “You were too smart for me. I wasn’t sure if I could ever keep up.”

He said it lightly, but she could hear the self-deprecation lingering there, years of insecurity. She touched the side of his face. Let her thumb brush his cheek, digging into the dimple cutting into his flesh. “Nothing about you had to change,” she said softly. “You’re perfect.”

His lips twitched, then he tilted his face toward her palm, nuzzling her hand. “When do you go back?”

“Monday,” Anya answered.

“Ah.”

The deadline hung in the space between them, stifling the air. There it was. The thing they’ve been avoiding. Reality.

Her hand trailed down his chest, fingers stroking his collar bone, feeling his steady heartbeat. So she would go back to Paris with her whirlwind schedule and her freedom to live how she wanted and her fancy friends to go out with every week. Her friends who, though fun, didn’t know every corner of her soul. Not the way he did. And there she would lay awake and wonder about the boy she left behind across the sea.

Wait for me, she wanted to ask him. It sat on the tip of her tongue. Wait for me while I make my way back to you. I promise it will be worth it.

But she couldn’t ask that of him. And he wasn’t asking her to stay, promising he would make it worth it, if she did. He wouldn’t ask that of her, either.

In the light she could make out the marks she’d dug into him with her nails last night, little red streaks all over his shoulders. Like she was doing everything she could to cling onto him but he would always manage to slip away. No matter how hard she tried.

Dmitry took a breath. “I know you don’t think you fit in with this town anymore,” he rasped, “but I just want you to know, you’ll always fit in with me.”

Something inside her chest clamped down on her heart and squeezed. She took him in, in all his messy glory, with his hair falling into his eyes from all directions and his marked up shoulders and his longing eyes.

For a minute she thought about it— rephrasing what home meant. Home wasn’t this house for a very long time now. Home was no longer her family, as important as they would always be to her.

But maybe now her home could be him, wherever he was. If that was possible.

Not even with him, but just. The thought of him. The feeling of him. Her fondness for him.

Anya nudged his nose with hers and then pressed her lips to his. She planned on just giving him a peck, but he wasn’t having that, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, angling his head and opening his jaw to deepen the kiss, making her sigh against his cheek.

She was just beginning to forget the idea of kicking him out of her room altogether— because he was so warm and they deserved to stay here half the day, consequences be damned— when the sound of a door down the hall squeaking open startled them both apart. Dmitry was frozen above her while they held their breath. Another door closed, the sound of running water. Anya silently counted the steps before the original door opened and shut again. She loosed a breath. It was just Maria. Who would go back to sleep for a few hours more.

“Okay,” he whispered, resigned, “I really don’t want to get caught.”

She smiled. “I guess.” Still, he made no effort to shift out of bed. “It’ll cost you, though.”

“Oh?” He propped his head on his hand. “How about… I go pick up some breakfast for you from the bakery?”

“You’ll have to get donuts for the whole house, though, or everyone will think you’re playing favorites.”

He pressed one more kiss against her mouth and whispered, “Who says I’m not?”

Anya rolled her eyes. He clumsily rolled off the bed, his limbs too long and lanky for such a small space, and slowly started plucking his clothes from the floor. She was able to get a good look at him now with the light filtering through her window. Even though they had been tangled up together in the most intimate way last night, it had been too dark to really study him, so the sight of his muscly back made her face warm.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

His arms threaded through his button up. “I dunno.”

“I was thinking I could come see this apartment of yours…”

He grinned, ducking his head, as if the thought made him shy. As if he weren’t standing naked in her bedroom. “It’s not much.”

“Let’s see. Do you have four walls?”

He laughed. “I do.”

“Do you have a bathroom?”

“That too.”

“A bed?”

“Mattress and everything.”

She hummed. “Sounds like enough to me.”

He bit his lip, smiling. “I could make you dinner…”

“Dinner? You cook now?”

“Mhmm.” He smirked. “There’s a lot about me that will surprise you, Romanov.”

She laughed. She would love to call him out on his arrogance, but he had indeed proven himself as a surprise last night, so all she could do was shake her head. “Okay, it’s a date, then. Tonight you’ll borrow me, and—”

“Borrow?” He snorted. “What, like you’re just some library book?”

“You know what I mean!”

He laughed once through his nose, continuing to button his pants. Fond. So, so fond. “I suppose you have some ulterior motives for getting me alone again.”

“Perhaps.” She bit her lip. “What about it?”

He shrugged again. “Just looking forward to catching up, is all.”

There was something soft in his tone, something honest. She watched him quietly while he pulled his sweater over his head, leaving his hair all disheveled. “Dima?”

He met her gaze. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Do you think you could love me again?”

His eyes softened. She herself didn’t quite understand what she was even asking for, what the right words were, what she wanted. But somehow he did. His throat bobbed, eyes swimming through hers. “I never stopped.”

Something inside her came together, like a zipper that had been stuck now gliding closed and secure and warm. Complete.

Okay. She would be okay.

Anya nodded, giving him a soft smile. “See you in a bit.”

He bent down, giving her a slow, chaste, lingering kiss. “See you soon.”

He expertly tiptoed out of the room, knowing all too well which creaky floorboards to avoid, and his trek downstairs was as silent as ever. Anya sunk deeper into the blankets. Just for the weekend. They could pretend.

Later, when her nieces and nephew were excitedly telling her all of what Santa left them, and her family was talking over one another so loudly no one could hardly get a word in, Anya would catch Dmitry’s eye across the way and they would share a quiet, secretive smile, and his toe would graze her leg under the table. The promise of later. The promise of a beginning.

And maybe, she thought, coming home from now on wouldn’t be so bad.

#anastasia broadway #anastasia musical #anastasia #dimya #my writing #fanfiction #anya x dmitry #smutty saturday #listen #i didn't expect this to go over like. 5k #but here we are #for the girls <3

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matan4il · 1 year ago

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I'm so happy some of the hostages are being returned. I was honestly starting to worry that maybe none were left alive, were smuggled out, or couldn't even be found from Hamas themselves. So, small blessings.

What I loathe is people trying to pretend Hamas is virtuous for this or that 5 prisoners for everyone Israel is even morally equivalent. It doesn't erase every person coming home lost someone brutally before being taken and probably left another person behind as a hostage. It will never erase how they tortured innocent civilians. These people coming home have probably been brutalized for 50 days. The trauma they will carry around breaks my heart. So many families will never be whole again. Pile on the people being returned to Gaza were actual terrorists who tried to or killed Israel's.

Every family has been forever changed in violence they never asked for. But I am grateful for who comes home. Seeing the reunion videos makes me happy. It just doesn't change my opinion of the people who did it. It's actually worse when I see them cheering and jeering at the red cross recovering them.

However.. I can't leave you without some dark humor. My neighbor put up Ceasefire sign with a death toll count at 10,000. When I was walking by, I asked her where she got that number because it's clearly wrong. I'd be happy to explain. She walked in and slammed the door. At least I'm more popular in the neighborhood and have a Ring so she can't egg my house. Although I am considering putting up more Israel flags just to start a sign war. Petty, yes, but if it annoys them, priceless!!!!

As always, I hope you and your family are staying safe. Lots of love!!!! Hopefully, researching for the museum is a nice distraction. Sending prayers, you're feeling OK!!

Hi darling! <333

Oh, I was sure that Hamas would keep at least some alive. Living hostages are worth more than dead ones. At this point, Hamas NEEDS this break in the fighting, and for sure they knew their strongest leverage over Israel would be hostages, so... what worries me is that we don't know how many are live. Fifty hostages is less than a quarter from the people kidnapped, and Hamas has not yet produced a current proof of life for the rest. But yes, I don't think it's possible to see the family reunions and not be moved! (well... so long as you're not de-humanizing Israelis, that is)

The people who have to be told that Hamas isn't humane, a terrorist organization that has beheaded human beings, including babies, raped women of all ages to the point where their bones broke, amputated kids, kidnapped a 9 months old, murdered Holocaust survivors... those people are beyond hope. Still, if you look at a recent released Hamas vid, meant to depict its terrorists as "humane," you can actually hear them instructing the hostage to "keep waving." That says it all.

I'm also gonna mention that one of the hostages released by Hamas tonight had to be rushed into surgery, and her life is in danger even after that.

And that's on top of everything else you mentioned. Yes, every single one of the hostages has either lost a relative, or still has family or friends in captivity, or had their house physically destroyed, and they were all changed forever by 7 weeks of captivity underground, in terror tunnels. I was listening to the testimony of an Israeli kid who was freed by Israel in 1976 from Entebbe, after just one week as a hostage, without being separated from his family, without losing anyone, while they weren't held underground, and he still said he was never the same person again. I can't understand anyone who ignores that. Then again, I also can't comprehend how a human being can look at a poster begging for the release of a baby, but some did exactly that, and proudly.

LOL I love that, thank you for sharing! And NGL, I would love for more Israeli flags on display. Even just the fact that it humanizes Israelis means so much! Thank you for being such an incredible ally, from me, and I'm sure from others reason this, too! Sending you all the love and good wishes in the world, you absolute ray of light! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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yuurei20 · 2 years ago

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Deuce Info Compilation Part 1: Deuce's Mom

Deuce first references his mother during Book 1 when it is revealed that he was “the only man of the house”, so he would help her with the heavy lifting that resulted from when she would “stock up” during sales.

Deuce references helping his mother during sales again in his PE vignette, where he uses the skills he learned as a child to help Sebek acquire pudding for Lilia (“I can’t tell you how many times I was barreled down over a single carton of eggs.”)

Deuce reveals that he had been able to shop for Trey and others at the dorm during the chaos of Sam’s sale, and Sebek compliments him as “a gifted human indeed”.

We get the story of Deuce’s past for the first time during Book 1 when he explains that he had been “wild” when he was younger (“yobisute” was changed to “I called my teachers names” as English does not have honorifics)

He says his change of heart was inspired by overhearing his mother crying about “how she must have been a horrible mom, and that maybe she never should have tried to raise me by herself.” Deuce insists on taking responsibility for his past actions, saying “She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all me.” When he was accepted to NRC, he “decided then and there that this time, I wouldn’t do anything to make her cry. This time, I’d become an honor student—someone she could be proud of.”

The topic of his mother arises during Wish Upon a Star, as well, with Deuce saying that he once heard her wish for him to stop fighting and live a healthy life.

Deuce’s mother calls him twice during the Wish Upon a Star event, and the first time leads to a conversation with Silver where he says that his old friends used to make fun of him for being so close to her. Silver says, “It’s only natural you’d want to talk regularly with someone you care about.”

Deuce shares a summarized version of his past with Silver and we learn that, due to his poor reputation, Deuce would get accused of things that he’d had nothing to do with.

He says, “Of course I got a huge attitude when people wouldn’t believe me. Looking back, though, they had every reason not to.” We learn that the only people who ever believed him were his mother and a neighborhood police officer who would always insist on hearing his side of a story and prove that he had an alibi when people tried to frame Deuce for things he hadn’t done.

Deuce says that, “If I could be like that, maybe my mom wouldn’t worry for much”. Deuce explains that this is why he wants to be a police officer when he is older: more specifically, a part of an agency that handles magical crimes, referred to as “magic marshals”.

Deuce’s mother calls him again at the end of Wish Upon a Star to tell him that “Even Night Raven College couldn’t have asked for a finer Stargazer than you” and “You know I’m very proud of you”, which nearly makes Deuce cry. He says, “One of these days, I’m gonna make my mom happy by making an even bigger wish come true.”

Deuce brings up his dream of joining the police force again in his birthday vignette, saying that he he has put most of his effort into “media research”, watching movies and TV and memorizing “intense-looking running styles” and “cool-sounding one-liners to use when making an arrest”.

Deuce mentions his mother often: in the Culinary Crucible he talks about wanting to “learn how to cook good meals for when I’m at home”, saying that his mother would “always cook egg dishes for my birthday” and “now I know what mom means when she says she adds a pinch of love to her cooking”.

We learn that Deuce would help his mother cook as a child. He says that he recently learned that she’d had a cold, but she didn’t let him know until after she had fully recovered. Deuce says “I kinda wish she’d lean on me more when she’s struggling” and “the next time I visit, I want to cook for her and show that I’m more dependable than ever!”

When Crowley and Ortho threaten to expose the students for not going to rescue Idia from Eliza during the Phantom Bride event Deuce’s reaction is “my mom would cry if she saw me on the news like that”.

He also mentions his mother waiting for him during Winter Holidays, something he wants to buy but cannot afford and how he does not want to ask him mom for money, the curry she would make, sending her a picture of his halloween costume, helping her with household appliances and more.

#DeuceFacts #TwstDeuce #TwstFacts #Deuce Spade #twisted wonderland

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triscribe · 5 months ago

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DC in Westeros - the Doom of Krypton

It began with Val-Lor and Hatu-El.

For more than a thousand years, the Kryptonian Empire ruled much and more of the lands of Essos. At the height of their power, over thirty Grand Houses of Dragonlords vied for power within their cities, supported by untold wealth and unknown magics. Their airborne armies could cross thousands of miles in a matter of days; their pyromancers and bloodmages raised great palaces and formidable temples; even in hidden places where Kryton did not rule, their influence shaped culture and custom, inspiring traditions that still last into the present day.

No one could challenge the might of the dragonlords. Not their slaves, nor their subjects, not even their allies. And though the exact cause of the Doom that came upon Krypton remains unknown, many surmise that the Grand Houses reached for power too dangerous even for them to touch, that their pride and hubris at its peak at last roused the anger of their gods, who opened the earth and filled the skies with molten rock and burning ash. No matter the cause, it took the Doom less than a day to unmake all the mighty wonders of the Kryptonian Empire, to utterly destroy all those who’d lived at its heart.

The dragons rose, the dragons ruled, and then, the dragons died.

Except for those few of House El.

A mere seven years before the Doom, a Kryptonian youth named Val-Lor dreamt of fire and blood, of the world he knew undone in a thrice, with only a single beckoning gleam on the horizon that promised of safe shores. Attempting to share this dream, this warning, did not produce the desired result: the dragonlords all laughed at Val, the second son of a lesser branch of a minor family. All, that is, except for his friend Hatu-El.

Records tell us this single lordling attempted to support Val-Lor’s claim, even against the desires of his own family. When that led nowhere, Hatu instead made a fateful decision: to abandon Krypton entirely. He gathered his closest friends, their spouses and small children, their indebted servants and beholden soldiers. And most importantly, Hatu took a single egg, a young hatchling, and his own nearly grown dragon, Nightflame.

Four other names have come down through the histories, those dear friends who cleaved to Hatu-El and his decision. Tyr-Van supplied three of his family’s best ships; Kad-Zee furnished them with all the supplies his coffers could purchase. Col-Ur brought chests of books from the great Hall of Magecraft; Lan-Zod kept her warriors on guard at all times, protecting and hiding the movements of the others until they were ready to depart. When the moment came, they went swiftly, leaving Krypton far behind before any could realize they’d gone.

We will never know the full reactions of the families abandoned by these six; only a single mention is made in the chronicle of their journey west with regard to a squad of dragonriders swooping low over the ships, led by an elder sister of Hatu-El who pleaded for him to return. He steadfastly refused, and the riders subsequently departed. If any other attempt was made to convince the wayward Kryptonians the error of their ways, or else to forcefully seize and bring them back, then those sent to do so never encountered the tiny fleet. And any annals kept in Krypton itself that may have made mention of the incident did not survive the Doom, seven years later.

By then, Hatu and Val had found their way to that gleaming shore in the latter’s dream: a small isle across the Narrow Sea, formed of shining black stone and possessed of a single smoking mountain. It sat across the opening of Blackwater Bay, and served as a rest stop for local fishermen and passing trade ships. These lowly Westerosi, who may not have ever even heard of the Kryptonian Empire, let alone seen a true dragon, were so taken by the arrival of Hatu-El and his people that none protested his claiming of the isle, and replacing any title it may have previously carried with the name of Kandor.

In short order, a grand fortress took shape, made of that same gleaming black stone. The courtyards stood wide enough for a hundred men to drill, or a single adult dragon to sprawl in the morning sunlight. Wide halls and large chambers were carved into the mountain itself, kept warm by the volcanic vents within, with a thick curtain wall keeping all of them safe and sheltered. Seven towers climbed into the sky; one for each of the Kryptonian bloodlines who’d settled there, and the last a mighty beacon, housing an enchanted flame at the top to safeguard the small inlet below and keep incoming ships from dashing themselves upon the sharp rocks at night.

During construction of their new home, the displaced Kryptonians learned of the Doom, the utter ruin of all they’d known and loved in days past. With the fortress of Kandor complete, some years later, Hatu-El insisted upon a celebratory feast, during which he pronounced their six families to be the new unified House of Krypton, the last bastion of their lost empire. Whether truth or legend, it is said that as he made this declaration, outside the great hall Hatu’s dragon Nightflame lifted her head and roared, unleashing a wave of blazing fire into the sky, briefly making the dim evening as bright as midday.

Ever afterward, the line of El ruled the House of Krypton, the dragonlords supporting and supported in turn by the descendants of Van, Zee, Ur, Zod, and Lor.

---

So THAT is progress.

I'm still tweaking my description of the Conquest, several generations later, but with luck I'll have everything sorted out soon and be able to post this to AO3. Might make another post today with my so-far layout of the other Great DC Houses of Westeros and my vague intentions of how they'll all be tied together.

Absolutely feel free to ask questions if y'all are interested, that's the best motivation for me to actually type all this nonsense out instead of just letting it sit in my head.

#dc in westeros #fan fiction #house of krypton #house of the dragon #dc comics #the research of golden age kryptonian characters has ended #but now I'm looking into ancestors of other superheroes #it is. tiring #I hate research #yet here we are

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alittlextrathatway · 1 year ago

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So don't you worry your pretty little mind

People throw rocks at things that shine

And life makes love look hard

The fire house.

Now I have to say, this was difficult because I rarely listen to Swift and I didn't know who the other was either... So if this just comes across as a weird choice, please feel free to ignore it. (just wanted to give you another to choose from because I really like your writings)

Fourth entry for the Sylvie works at FH 40 series.

You can find the previous parts at the following links: part 1, part 2, part 3

***

Three weeks and many dates later, Sylvie wakes up in Matt's bed. He's not in the room and his side of the bed is still rumpled and messy. She runs a hand over the sheets finding them still warm. He hasn't been out of bed long. Getting out of bed, she borrows a pair of Matt's boxers -- rolling them at the waist so they fit -- and puts on her t-shirt from the night before.

She starts to head to the bedroom door but then her feet leave Matt's rug and land on the cold concrete floors. With a grimace she scampers over to Matt's dresser and steals a pair of socks. Why is this loft always so cold? Do Severide and Matt really run that hot?

Well, okay, she knows Matt does. Thank god. He's like her very own personal space heater.

Padding her way into the open concept living room and kitchen, she finds Matt and Severide making breakfast. She's assuming Stella's still asleep.

Matt looks up as she approaches the kitchen island. He scoops the scrambled eggs into a bowl and then rounds the island to meet her halfway, greeting her with a quick and casual peck to her lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," she replies, winding her arms around his waist.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, mimicking her stance and holding her in return.

"Wonderful. I had you to keep me nice and toasty all night. That's always my favorite."

Severide's face pinches as he fixes his breakfast plate. "Alright, take it back to his room. I don't need to hear the bed sharing specifics."

Sylvie narrows her eyes at him and sticks out her tongue, leaning into the bratty little sister role she's found herself playing when it comes to her boyfriend's best friend. "Why do we have to take it somewhere else? You have a room too."

"Yeah, but my name is on the lease so..."

"Alright, that's enough of this weird sibling act," Matt says cutting Severide off with a laugh. "Go wake up Stella before breakfast gets cold. We need to leave for the firehouse soon anyway."

"He's only interrupting me because he knows I'm right. For the record," Severide says as he turns and leaves the kitchen.

"You guys leave for the firehouse together?" Sylvie asks Matt. She's never slept over the night before a shift before, but today was different. Today, it made sense.

"We take separate cars but yeah we leave together. Are you ready for a shift at 51?" He asks, leading her to the kitchen so they can both make a plate.

"As I'll ever be. I'm excited to work with Mikami. Shay raves about her. Says she really knows her stuff. I just hope everything goes well for Shay today. If anyone deserves a promotion it's her." Since that first shift Shay covered for her, the two of them have become fast friends. Today, Sylvie's repaying Shay's initial favor and covering 61.

"Have you thought about what she suggested at Molly's last night?"

"What? You mean me filling her PIC spot if she gets promoted to AC?" Sylvie bites her bottom lip and then shakes her head. "I have a little but...do you think that's a good idea? Us being in a relationship and working together? You don't think anyone will have an issue with the optics of that?"

"Optics of what?" Matt asks, following her to the kitchen table to eat. "You wouldn't be directly under my command. You've got an AC and Paramedic Field Chief for that."

"In my experience, the actual chain of command doesn't really matter," Sylvie mutters as they sit.

"Okay, I hear you," Matt reluctantly admits. "I know Kidd's had some weird run ins with a couple of guys even though she and Severide are on different rigs. If people are gonna be ignorant and rude logic hardly ever stops them. If you decide you don't want to, I'd understand, but keep an open mind. See how today feels. Deal?"

"Deal," she agrees, leaning over and kissing Matt's cheek. "For you."

Later, with 12 hours of a shift at 51 under her belt, Sylvie can admit Matt's house is exceptional. The team at 40 is full of good people, but they're not as close knit as 51. Violet is a great partner. A little green but extremely knowledgable. And, most importantly, Chief Boden nor anyone else at 51 cares that she's dating Matt. It doesn't affect how she does her job so it had no bearing on what they think of her.

During a quiet moment, she's sitting with Matt in his quarters and watching everyone else at 51 go about their day. None of them pay her a bit of attention as she lounges on Matt's cot while he finishes up his paperwork. When she was dating Greg at 40, everyone seemed to stare at her constantly. They watched her every move as if waiting for any sign Grainger might favor her over anyone else.

She assumed that was normal. That every house would be that way. It's odd knowing that assumption was wrong. Is this house the exception or the rule? She's never worked anywhere but 51 or 40 so it's hard for her to say.

"I can hear you thinking," Matt says before he turns in his chair to look at her. "What's going on over there?"

"My last experience dating an officer was...uncomfortable. Not because of Grainger. He was fine. But the people around us watching us like a hawk. I braced myself for an uninvited opinion every day," she confesses. "And I thought that was normal."

Matt nods, listening intently. "Thought? Past tense?"

"Your house hasn't asked me a single question about you or batted an eye when we interacted or touched. They only care about our relationship as much as they need to in order to make sure you're happy. That's...mind blowing, honestly."

The grin he points at her is slow and full of understanding. "Yeah, 51 has that effect on people, a lot."

"I was worried working together and dating would put added pressure on us and burst our little honeymoon phase bubble. I've had relationships fall apart over less, you know?" She idly plays with her watch band as she debates continuing.

Is she on the verge of too much, too soon? Should she quit while she's ahead? No, she's done softening her feelings for the sake of a man she's dating. She did that with Greg and ended up staying with him too long passed their expiration date. If anything is ever going to work out for her, it'll take her being honest to make it happen.

"And I really don't want this to fall apart. I haven't been this crazy about a person in a very long time." She takes a deep steadying breath as she finishes telling her truths and impatiently waits for Matt's reaction.

She doesn't have to wait long. He relocates from his chair to the bunk next to her and takes both of her hands in his, smiling so warmly his eyes wrinkle at the corners. "I haven't been this crazy about a person in a long time either, and we're not going to fall apart. Especially not because of any outside opinions. We're the only ones that really know how we are together and how we feel about each other. I'm not gonna let anyone, at 51 or otherwise, take that from us. Trust me on that one."

His certainty and determination send thrilling little shocks coursing through her bloodstream. She feels buzzy. Almost as if she's had a double shot of espresso, but she hasn't. No, she's got something much better: private doses of Matt Casey that she has access to whenever she wants. The more time she spends with him, the harder and faster she falls.

"Oddly enough, I do trust you. Completely."

"Good," he says, lifting the back of her hand to his lips for a quick and subtle kiss. He's aware people could be watching and he's sensitive to her worries. Most guys wouldn't be. But Matt Casey is the best of the best. Of course, he remembers and acts accordingly.

God, she's in big trouble. This man is going to own her heart before too long and, once he has it, she knows she won't be getting it back.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #matt casey x sylvie brett #captainfluffypants #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

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goodluckclove · 8 months ago

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Edgar Gallows Blog Takeover - Intro Post!

Uh - hi! Hello!

I don't really know what I'm doing here or why I'm doing it, but Scott told me there's no way he's trying this unless he sees me do it first. And if Scott's not doing it Tenzin won't be comfortable enough to try either - really, Katy's the only one here comfortable chatting to strangers. It's a delicate web otherwise.

But yeah, my name is Edgar. I'm 30 and I live in New Orleans. Scott and I looked up what people put in intro posts like these and a lot of them had genders and pronouns, so let's just say I have both of those and not go any deeper than that.

I've worked in a few tourist-y traps in NOLA, mostly back of house doing prep and assembly work. Right now I'm a bartender and I'm great at it. I'm the best in the world. I've won awards. You can lie on the internet without consequence, right?

I should say that I am ex-Academy. I won't say which one for the sake of anonymity (And - let's face it - my own safety as well). I wasn't expelled or discharged or whatever. Technically I wasn't even released. I don't practice anymore, or really keep up with the news and politics of Academic witchcraft, so don't expect me to get into it unprompted.

Interests

I don't think there's a genre of music that I don't love, but I'm a big fan of funk, disco, new wave and Japanese city pop. Talking Heads is my favorite band of all time.

I'm a self-taught chef. I think I'm pretty good at it. I also bake, which I am less good at. Those skills do not transfer like you might think they do.

Scott's looking over my shoulder and he's telling me to mention that I like birds. I do. I feel weird saying that because I don't really know that many bird facts for anything other than my few favorites (Goldfinches and Buntings). I just like looking at them.

I say that I play video games but the only video game I'm remotely good at is Old School Runescape, which I don't think is that cool to say.

Things to Ask me About?

I would love to talk about cooking or food. This could be to give advice, recipe suggestions, food pairings, knife skills - ask me something as simple as how to scramble an egg and I'd be happy to share my technique.

In regards to the Academy, I will say that I'm Legacy and so I never actually enlisted. If you're thinking of going down that path at your own branch, I worked at the University of mine as a librarian for maybe five years, so I got a good perspective as to what the process looks like. I'm open to offering insight and tentative guidance if you aren't weird.

Scott says I should mention that I'm also a birthright. He's really the one that has more authority to talk about that since he actually grew up in a witch town, but apparently he has a lot of opinions on how I should do this for someone who barely understands how the internet works.

He's watching me type now. Fuck it, you can ask me about Scott too if you want. I assumed I was straight until about a week ago. Now I seem to have bagged myself an ethereal magical boyfriend. He saw me use the voice command on my Pixel and now he makes me say goodnight to my goddamned cell phone before we go to sleep. I love him.

DNI List

I heard admission rates for Academies hit a major spike recently, and I'm just putting it out there that I really would rather not debate anyone super invested in the "mission statement" of their local University. The newer members never seem to realize that the culture of the Academy differs like crazy depending where you are, and because of that there really isn't the kind of centralization they claim exists to Junior Members.

Also - and this might be a divisive take - but I was born into this world. I spent decades of my life in the Academy. I truly do not care about the opinion of someone who trained for two years after joining straight out of high school. I won't block you, but I will send your username and any comments you make to my friend who is far more Anti-Academy than I am (Hi, Katy).

Anyway that's all! I look forward to posting things today and maybe talking to some new people! I hope everyone is nice and not weird and I do not regret this happening!

who is this? why is this happening? check out the pinned post on my blog to learn more!

#songbird blog takeover #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #queer writers #actually writing #blind trust #writing #oc rp #edgar posting

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necroticghost · 16 days ago

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I need to vent about growing up poor because the holiday season always makes something hurt inside of me, with seeing kids open up presents, parents buying stuff for their kids and so on.

this turned out veeery long... and I'm now hurting even more remembering everything... but somehow I feel a little more relieved sharing all of this even though I'm not sure if anyone will read

it's not just the fact that I wasn't getting anything besides sweets and maybe one piece of clothing (I was always beyond happy and grateful for everything), but during this time I'm reminded even more of just how bad it was.

my family didn't even have a house that could ever be shown in pictures, or to have other people over. I was always ashamed of bringing someone home, everything was old and broken and dirty and there was so much stuff hoarded everywhere. I never wanted people to know in what conditions I was living in, but the neighbours still knew and they were looking down upon my family a lot. sometimes I actually think that the whole poverty situation prompted people to bully me.

there were entire weeks where everything there was to eat was eggs every single day for every meal because my family raised chicken so I guess they were free. some days we didn't even have bread, or it would be old and hardened.

our fridge was empty almost all the time, there was no such thing as grabbing a snack, it was either eat a sandwich with bread and cheese or make yourself eggs or the same soup that we had for a few days already. so many times I had to eat food that was probably spoiled.

and on the topic of sandwiches, when I was at school and saw classmates come with sandwiches that had ham, AND cheese, AND veggies in them I could only stare in shock and wonder what they tasted like. mine only had bread and butter or bread and maybe two thin slices of salami, and sometimes I wouldn't even make myself sandwiches so that my brother could have something to eat at school.

food situation was rough as hell alright... but thankfully I had eating disorders that kept me from eating. I was actually glad that I wasn't eating much since there could be more for my family. I talk a lot of bad stuff about my mom but so many nights she'd come home exhausted from work and go to bed hungry so that me and my brother could have food. I feel sick to my stomach now that I realise what she was doing...

I didn't have an umbrella until I was 18 because I could never afford one and neither did my parents, but I got some money somehow in the last year of high school and bought two umbrellas for me and my brother. I was so happy that he wasn't going to school or coming back home soaked anymore and he really needed it since he was much younger than me and would still go to school for years to come. thankfully when I was getting soaked I wouldn't have much ruined in my backpack since we had lockers at school and I was leaving most of my stuff there. but I was always freezing... and I hated how the clothes always stuck to my skin. it sucked especially since we couldn't heat the house as we pleased.

I never had good clothes. and when I had to take my shoes off I'd always do my best to avoid it or keep my toes curled because my socks were always ripped. I did get somewhat trendy clothes since my dad was doing some uh... combinations at work. but I was never going shopping for clothes, maaaybe once a year when the school year started for a few pieces but the cheapest ones. I'd wear shoes until they were falling apart, and clothes until they were tearing, with holes and stains on them. it was a huge shock when I leaned that my best friend in high-school was given a monthly huge sum of money just for clothes. monthly! my family didn't even spend that amount on food!

I could only afford to go out with my friends on the weekends because I never used the little money I got for food at school (maybe enough for a croissant) since like I said I was deep into not eating it wasn't that hard to save them so I'd use them on going out. but even then I could never afford the food, drinks, and shopping for stuff like my friends did.

our house didn't even have a bathroom until I was like 13. and we'd have to wash in a big plastic bowl idk the english name, and we'd have an outdoor rustic toilet. some winters I'd have to wash my face and brush my teeth in the winter morning cold water outside in the courtyard. and now that I live in a comfortable apartment with my girlfriend where there is always warm water is a dream... I also had to cut wood everyday to heat the bedrooms in fireplaces. no wonder my back won't stop hurting now.

gifts always resumed to a small sum of money or very few and cheap items but they always meant a lot to me and I received them happily, it's just that I'll never stop being shocked and a bit sad when I see what other people receive. it seems unreal to me that it's possible to receive a lot of presents for birthdays and Christmas.

so often I wouldn't even have anything to wash myself with so it would have to be soap, and when we did have shower gel somehow there was no more shampoo so I'd wash my hair with shower gel. and I had to take showers with, again, winter cold water so many times since we had a heater that barely worked.

I will forever remember this memory in kindergarten. the year just started, and we were supposed to color in these colored pages, and I was the only kid who didn't have a pencil case, and nothing else to my name for that matter. I will also forever remember how the teacher asked this one girl to give me something to color with aswell and she halfheartedly offered me a dark purple marker that I colored everything with. I was coloring though the tears, I really didn't understand why I was the only one left out, but I was also happy that I had that one color, it really was everything to me.

and speaking of kindergarten, since I mostly grew up without my parents since my grandmother and my great-greatmother raised me, I remember how happy I was when this one special time it was my mom that picked me up and she brought me a toy! I don't think I'll ever forget the happiness I felt

and toys... yeah. two stories. still in kindergarten, there was a cabinet full of toys that kids could bring and play with while there, but I don't remember having any. I did have plush toys at home though.

and when I was in elementary school we used to visit our godfather family a lot, and their daughter had so many toys, board games, a scooter and such. everytime we'd go there I'd get so happy because I'd get to play with them too, but her, being as sick as she probably already was of them, she never wanted to get them out and was making a lot of fun of me and throwing me stares for wanting to play. but I didn't have anything besides the plush toys....

when I was outside playing with this group of kids I was hanging out with, it surprised me every time this really rich girl told me she is going to the supermarket with her family. it happened all the time, maybe weekly! my family never went to the supermarket... they'd mostly get stuff from the farmer's market and the small shop nearby. up until like... middle school I had no idea what it's like to be inside a supermarket.

and she'd go on vacation with her family every year, but we never went. I only saw the sea twice when I was little because my dad was a truck driver and had a delivery there and took me with him. and I don't remember when I first saw the mountains but I don't think that happened more than every few years and for only like three days. so when I hear that people went abroad a lot when I could barely visit my own country sounded crazy.

I never had a laptop until I entered university, even though I needed it for school a lot of times too, but it became and absolute necessity in uni so my parents gave me £100 yes 100 so I thankfully was able to buy a second hand one that barely functioned.

so I never got to play any games really, except on this old pc that I had in my childhood that eventually broke. and now I'm shit at games that imply some sort of competitiveness with other people since I've only recently been able to actually play games and that's on an old laptop of my girlfriend's. those people have probably played games forever so our skills differ so so much. so I guess anyone could imagine how beyond grateful I am that recently my girlfriend bought me a new laptop, a gaming one even! and I can finally enjoy games properly!

I could keep going... but my chest and throat really hurt and I would like to cry a lot if only I could.

well... now my girlfriend bought me all the clothes that I could ever need, and I have so many art supplies that I literally don't have space for them anymore. and she took me abroad of a trip, and we always get nice food and order a lot and eat out and I'm living in a safe, comfortable, healthy and clean place. I don't think I can ever repay her in this lifetime. she saved my life.

#vent #venting #growing up poor #poverty

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thebiggestnaturaldisaster · 11 months ago

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Tokoyami

2018 backlogs part 13. ocs are in it? i have no recollection of these ocs.

soulmate au

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Soulmates. You don't get to choose them but most seem to be the perfect match for you even if you don't know it at first.

You technically get your soul mark at birth it's just incredibly faint but then as you grow up it becomes more prominent, it's assumed that that's because you're closer to meeting your soulmate.

But that's where you have a slight problem: you're 14 and your mark is still dull. Normally that would be fine it just means your soulmate lives farther away, but being the child of a top hero in your country means you have moved around a lot; and in turn met many many people. Is it possible to never meet a soulmate?

"Y/N breakfast is ready!" Your mom calls up to you in a singsong voice. It's a family tradition that every Saturday you all sleep in and then have a fun breakfast together. You race downstairs nearly knocking over the vase of flowers on the hallway table. Down in the kitchen there wasn't a large array of foods but some mickey mouse pancakes (with an assortment of toppings), bacon, eggs, and some fruit salad. All your favorites, the nostalgia is like a warm hug.After piling your plate tall with breakfast you sat down at the table with your mom and dad. A few minutes into the family breakfast and a few shared glances between your parents you could tell something was off.

"Y/N your mother and I have something to tell you." Your dad's tone was off. He seemed almost nervous. Nothing he could say with that tone could be good. The words rung in your head like a bell was struck next to you. 'We're moving'. Again? Where this time? Will I finally meet them? Why do we have to move around so much? You had so many questions but you couldn't form enough words to ask all of them. You could only get one of them out. Where? The answer rang more than the initial news. Japan.

'''''''''''

That was a couple years ago though. You were nervous at first of course, moving to a new country is always scary, but the nerves lightened a little bit once you noticed your mark was getting darker as the time there went on. You were still the child of a professional hero due to a slight transfer hence the move. And with a move and a powerful quirk there's one school in particular you wanted to go to. UA. The best hero school in Japan. There's nothing you wouldn't do to get in. After a grueling entry exam and a lot of practicing you got in. You got into the hero course call 1-A and tomorrow was your first day.

It was strange to be walking into a hero school in a new country but you were excited. The pro heroes here were exceptional and inspiring to watch. You aspired to be like them. The door to class 1-A. Here goes nothing. Your classmates were interesting, a very lively group, with very lively quirks. One stood out the most though an incredibly cute guy with a birds head, he was a little eccentric in a Gothic way but that made him all the more captivating. You became fast friends with most of your classmates, all aside from the angry and unapproachable Bakugo at least.

Your teacher had you all do a lot of physical tests today and admittedly you felt gross you could feel the sweat encrusting the dirt onto your skin and the only thing you could think about as you opened the door to your house was showering. After dropping your bag on your bed you went directly to the shower but as you undressed you noticed it on your shoulder. Your mark was solid. You met him. You squealed in delight though based on your parents rushing to the outside of the bathroom door it must've been more of a shriek. With a tank top still on you threw the door open and showed your parents your mom in particular. The excitement in the air was palpable. After your shower you got dressed into comfortable clothes and got online to talk to your old friends from back home, they HAD to hear this.

A few months had passed and since then you've gotten closer to your friends and even closer to who you found out had your mark with you, Tokoyami. Your initial thoughts of him being attractive hadn't faded at all though you two hadn't known each other long, you decided to take everything slower even though the chemistry was as if you had known each other your entire lives, you decided to go as far as dating but not much further. Your parents each loved the other which while expected was very nice. Despite dating for a few months now whenever you two kiss he gets extremely flustered which is endearing.

"Students I have a couple announcements to make. '' Everyone immediately stopped talking and paid attention in hope it was something exciting. "Firstly there will be a family outing for the hero classes so please do check with your parents and have the papers that are being handed out signed so we know who will be coming. Secondly after long deliberation we have decided a select few of the hero courses do this so do keep it between us; there is a traitor in the school, we are unsure who it is or if they're a student or a teacher. We have decided to tell you so you can keep a lookout and tell us if there is anything strange." The class was buzzing there were whispers everywhere around, everyone's voice muddled together. Who could it be you asked yourself its a hero school, if you're here you're either a hero or want to be. It could be one of my friends even.

A couple of weeks had passed but the anxiety of the traitor wasn't a bit lower than before, understandably. As all the families and students climbed onto the buses there was a silent agreement to not discuss what was heard until after the day of fun with everyone as to not ruin it. The cool early morning air chilled everyone's core a small bit as you all rode to the destination off the forest and walked to the final spot - a clearing semi deep into the belly of the forest. The drive was long and the buses cramped but you couldn't help but wonder who was joining, or if the traitor would be. The blades of grass were painted with a dew that soaked the bottom of your shoes, it was going to be a good day. Right?

The day turned out to be bright, sunny, and comfortably warm. Games were played and if students chose to they were able to show off how their quirk training was going in a safe and controlled environment. You could hear it a mile away, a screaming match between Bakugo and his mom, looks like it's his turn to show off. How unusual. With a sigh you gently grab your parents arms and back them away to a hopefully safe distance. "You don't want to be close to this trust me." Next thing everyone knew some of the biggest and loudest explosions you've seen him set off flashed, like lightning feet away from you.

You weren't the only ones watching.

After the show Bakugo gave it seemed as if everyone wanted to show their parents how their quirks and control had gotten and you were no exception. The longer you watched the others show their parents and friends the more shy became which didn't go unnoticed. Suddenly you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, looking over you saw the lightly caring smile on his beak and you felt a wave of confidence as you waited for what you knew would be your turn. Every so often as the moment got closer and closer you would feel an encouraging squeeze on your hand.

You took your turn, more nervous than you ever had been. It had been years since this many people saw you use your quirk, it doesn't always go well. you looked back at your families. Toko's face was gentle as ever and you could feel your parents eyes watching in support. You took a breath and closed your eyes. Focus Y/N. You could feel the air swirling around you to your forearm and hand gently blowing against your face. You slowly opened your eyes and scanned the tree line, you don't need a large trunk just one to show how well your training is going. You slide your foot back getting into the proper stance. As you breathe out you move in one fluid motion and slice your arm through the air; in turn the air that gathers around your arm is like a knife flying through the tree cutting the trunk in half. The crash of the falling tree was the last thing that was heard. Everyone was silent. Most had never seen your quirk used, and those who have before had never seen it to that extent.

You could feel your face getting warmer as everyone stared at the sliced tree laying dormant on the ground. You slowly walked back to your family's spot next to Tokoyami's family. The second you got close enough you were tugged into your warm as she gave you a hug and your dad gave you a proud high five. Once your mom let's go you take your spot next to Toko once again the picnic blankets were laid out and the food was ready to eat as the other students demonstrated their own abilities. You sat on the scratchy blanket eating and lost in conversation when you noticed a fog roll in. Figuring it was just a student you didn't know, you all continued talking amongst yourselves but also to the occasional classmate or friend that came by. You were enjoying yourself; it felt like pure bliss sitting in the clearing with everyone around. The sky darkened quickly, which would've been normal but there was no sun set. The sun was still shining down. The fog was thicker and darker, a mix of fog and smoke maybe?

Blue flames engulfed the trees surrounding the clearing spreading quickly. The fog and the smoke was heavy and everyone scrambled to get to safety. You felt a strong hand grab yours and pull you up as figures slowly walked into the clearing. Shigaraki was first followed by the usual villains, what a thought the usual people trying to kill us. Your eyes scanned them all and saw some you didn't recognize including someone you could only call Nomu version 2 he was gigantic.

He was talking. You didn't want to listen, you had to think.

Thé air was heavy and still as the fog slowly got thicker no one dared to move. There were so many villains it was dizzying. So many new ones too. If it were just the hero course students you probably would have stayed as a group to try to fight your way out but it wasn't. No, there were heroes, families, and students from different class types. You had to get to safety. How? How are you going to do that? Movement. You had no time to think you could only react as Nomu 2.0 started to move. Slow at first like a lumbering giant, a mistake of human creation. Then he wasn't. He wasn't slow at all; he charged toward a large group being stopped by All Might and Mr. Aizawa. Panic. Fear.

With a shriek acting as an alarm everyone scattered. Villains chased while others went back into the woods. People were everywhere fighting or running. Terror. The pro heroes were all busy trying to stop various people from getting hurt. You were frozen. Unsure of what to do. You felt a warm hand grab yours and yank you into the tree line. Toko. Your parents, one being a pro hero chose to fight while the other ran alongside you. Dark. The fog and smoke blotted out the sun as much as they made it harder to breathe. Where were you? You'd been just running and running. You all stopped. Tokoyami's dad needed a minute. You kneeled with him and his wife in tow for a moment. He wasn't used to this.

Crack. Crunch. Crash.

A tree covered in blue fire came crashing down between you all. Like scared horses his parents booked it deeper into the woods. "I'll get them you two just get to safety." You assured him. It was safer to get as many people out as possible. You ran. You weren't sure how far they'd gotten but you just kept running calling out in hopes they would hear you. Your legs were heavy, your feet like cinder blocks hitting the ground. You saw them. Picking up speed you ran to be just in front of them blocking their path to stop them. They had tears in their eyes, could you blame them. You pulled them both into a hug, though you weren't used to so many feathers. After choosing a direction to walk you started making your way hopefully out of the forest. The fog and smoke mixture thickened to the point it was hard to see far in front of you. That's when you heard it. The other footsteps. You all stopped.

After a short moment you saw a figure step closer. A slow trot would be best to describe it. Followed closely but a few others. Friends? As they got closer you were able to see their faces. Shigaraki. He was right in front of you. Dabi and three others tailed right behind him. Who were they? You only knew about the main villains from this organization. You'd never seen them before, you were getting more unsure about this by the second. You motioned for his parents to get behind you though would that really help anything? You looked at the ones you haven't seen before. They were about your age, one wearing a mask on their mouth, maybe a vocal quirk, and the other just looked bored. The third one was odd; she didn't seem like a villain at all. It was off putting.

"Mr. And Mrs. Tokoyami, once I can get their attention on me please run as much as you can." You said without looking away from the 5 in front of you. You should never talk about a plan in front of the people who want to kill you though.

In a blink you were grabbed. Strong chains coiled around you squeezing you holding you in place. The cold metal felt strange as it dug into your skin. Help. You could hear more clinking metal behind you. You struggled to turn your head but when you did you saw his parents coiled even tighter than you. The feathers on his father were slowly being pulled out by the coil. You had to get out of here. The chains lead back to the bored guy. So he didn't even have to move no wonder he's bored. You focused on each of them, your eyes trailing around the scene as you tried to think of a way out.

"Masami Tokoyami. Age 47. Quirk shadow puppet. Not a threat." A cheerful voice spoke. What?

"Hachigoro Tokoyami. Age 50. Quirk bird. Not a threat slightly pathetic though. A shame really." Her voice trailed off at the end. She was staring at you now. It was only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. "Y/N. Age 16. Quirk solid air. Threat level high if they can control it well, it'll be sharper than any weapon created." She started talking directly to you "I would have loved to be your friend under different circumstances."

Horror. What kind of a quirk does that girl have? You needed to get out of there and soon. The way you came would work, it was just barely a straight show after all. You looked at it for too long. The third one, the other girl, had noticed what you were focused on. If you could see her face it probably would have had a smirk plastered on it as she walked over to the path. She leaned on a tree watching you looking for any hint of reaction. She must've gotten what she wanted because suddenly the very tree was falling over blocking the path. In an instant blue flames engulfed the. Smoke filled your lungs and burned your throat. No.

You felt the air wrapping around your wrist. You had to do this fast. You focused as much as you could on the chain holding you. Slice. The metal broke in half, but instead of a simple clink it was accompanied but a scream in pain. He can feel his chains. Your prison fell and the other half retreated back into his body after flailing and scoring trees. He doesn't seem very bored anymore. After a moment of you steadying yourself you heard the gasps. The Tokoyamis could barely breathe with the air and the chains. Turning around you saw them, bruised and Toko's father bloody from his feathers being ripped out.

It was like a horror movie. The chains raised them with ease. The slightly worse part was what came after. Masami was thrown into a tree with enough force that it was turned to splinters. The chains loosened and were left there in the shards. Before you could think Hachigoro was raised as high as the canopies and slammed into the ground. You would never admit it but the fact that it caused a small crater was slightly cool. You placed a hand on your shoulder right over your soulmark. You'd save them. For him.

#tokoyami x reader #fumikage tokoyami #tokoyami fumikage #my writing

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miss-celestia13 · 2 years ago

Text

Strangeness and Charm

DanxOFMC First Date One Shot

Words: 5.3k

Three months after the events in the mine, Imogen has moved to Colville and is determined to find out of the thing growing between her and Dan is something real or imagined. A dark theater, a row to themselves, and Dan's surprisingly gentle disposition leave her head spinning.

I started this a year ago and finally got around to finishing it. It is sickly sweet. Tooth-rotting fluff and romance. Just tried to capture something light and lovely. Tension, soft looks and touches as they watch the stars and open themselves up to the possibility of more. I hope you enjoy it!

Imogen

Imogen paced the pavement outside her house, counting the cracks in the concrete repeatedly until her mind spun with numbers, and it shut up that voice yelling that this was a stupid idea. It had been three months since the events of the case had come to a fiery end—three months of healing and breaking and bleeding. Most nights, she awoke to gasp for air, sweat trickling down her neck as she clutched at damp bedsheets in a vain attempt to keep her tethered to the here and now. She was getting there, though. It was easier every day to ignore the flashes that crossed her mind whenever something reminded her of those dark days.

Tonight she was meeting the one person she’d never stopped thinking about. Not even while she’d been interrogated for hours on end, FBI agents screaming in her face as she refused to give up Jake’s location. Not that she knew it. Nobody did. And he had vanished like the phantom he had to become to stay free of the twisted justice system of their country. Jake hadn’t been in touch with anyone since, and she missed him in an odd way. She had thought there was something between them in the midst of fire and blood. Still, it had turned out their situation had created a false sense of urgent emotions that had dissipated the moment Hannah was saved. They’d parted as friends and had made no promises to see or hear from one another again. And she was good with that.

The betrayal of one of their own was a poison that had yet to be sucked from shared wounds. None of them would be the same again, and Imogen thought that was good. After all, their secrets and lies had caused the entire mess; maybe now they’d communicate before hell could rain again. She’d barely spoken to them since. Lilly and Jessy had made the most effort, but Imogen was the type to let people breathe and reach out when they were ready. So far, that day hadn’t come, and it stung her after all she’d done to help, but she didn’t blame them for not wanting to speak with a living ghost reminding them of their darkest times.

Then there was Dan. His abrasive nature had been offputting and irritating. Until that hard shell had cracked like an egg, and he’d shared a piece of his heart with her, and she’d seen him for what he really was. A golden soul with a heart of sunlight that he protected with barbed words and bristled skin. They’d tentatively made plans that last day and kept in touch while her friends put their lives back together. She had initially hated that it was Dan who had reached out. Thought he was brash and combative in those early days but had soon learned that he felt and saw more than he let on. He found it challenging to deal with. He’d been trying with her over these long months they’d spoken daily over text or video calls. Planning for this night.

A first date always brings up a myriad of emotions. Nervous anticipation led the charge, a sparkle of fireflies in her belly each time she thought about seeing him, and delicate hope was the most giddy-making of them all. It was the cause of the sparkling energy currently causing mayhem in her stomach each time she imagined the many different ways this night could end. That feeling of weightlessness blended with a tang of fear had haunted her throughout the long day. She swore the clocks had rallied against her. Each time she looked, they had barely moved. The day had gone smoothly despite it ebbing like thick treacle, and the sunny weather helped boost her optimism, as had all her preparations for the date. She took that as a good omen. Her days usually were a test of endurance and fortitude. She tried to picture it in her mind; Dan reaching for her hand, his shock at her newly dyed purple hair, and she could already hear him asking if she wanted butter on her popcorn. His voice had slowly become a lullaby these past few months, soothing her and making her laugh whenever he spotted the shadows swimming in her eyes. Her dearest hope was he would remain her friend if this failed and they didn’t click.

Imogen loved and hated horror movies in equal measure. She loved being terrified after the scare was over, the giddy rush of adrenaline as you realized you were safe, and laughed at your own stupidity. He hadn’t mentioned if they were watching something scary, only telling her he was holding her to their deal. Dan was on his way to pick her up since only she moved to Colville last month and hadn’t gotten a car yet. The early evening sun beat down on her bare shoulders, the sundress she wore insubstantial as it frothed in the breeze. She was overdressed, but she had wanted Dan to see her as she was and not the terrified creature she had been for the past three months.

Her heart was a hummingbird in her chest, fluttering wings grazing her ribs every time a car slowed as it passed her. He was a few minutes late, but traffic was always bad at this time of day. The heavy satchel she’d stuffed with toiletries and a change of clothes slapped against her thighs as she continued her pointless pacing. It was presumptuous to assume she would spend the night after they left the movie theatre, but she liked to be prepared. She was reaching into her dress pocket for her cell phone when a car horn blared too close. She jumped a foot in the air, whirling with a hand pressed to her chest to see a black Mustang purring at the edge of the pavement. A shy smile curved her mouth as Dan leaned over to open the passenger side door for her. Another car waited impatiently behind him as she scurried over and clumsily got in.

Her eyes raked over him hungrily. He’d hit the gym hard after everything, and it showed. All hard lines and lovely muscle, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he drove off with one hand on the wheel. His hair was much shorter now. She had loved the long hair, but it had looked scraggly a few days before, and he hadn’t video called her since that day. It warmed her to know how much effort he’d put in, and the new hair color and makeup she donned didn’t feel as frivolous now. He wore black sunglasses, effortlessly cool as he smiled softly at her, and she itched to scratch her nails through the scruff of his beard.

“Hello, stranger,” he chuckled in a deep voice when all they did was steal glances at each other every time he hit a red light.

“This feels weird, right?” She laughed after a long moment, making Dan grin.

“It does, but who said weird had to be wrong?” He returned, and she shook her head, smiling as she looked out her window.

She could feel his eyes on her every now and again. A flash of heat crept up her neck and colored in her cheeks when she met his sparkling gaze. Her body felt as if someone had replaced her blood with fizz. She might have floated away if she hadn’t been strapped into her seat. He chatted about mundane things, his usual sense of humor was restrained for now, and her heart grew gossamer wings as she understood he was nervous. Dan. Was nervous. That seemed absolutely ridiculous to Imogen as the man had no shame, and his brash attitude was part of why she started falling for him.

It wasn’t until they were well into the drive that she broke the easy silence. Her mind was abuzz like a swarm of bees had taken it over to build a new hive inside the dark of her brain.

“So… what movie are we seeing?”

Dan flashed her a Cheshire Cat grin, eyebrows waggling as he replied, “Well, you said you liked being scared. But I didn’t want to frighten you off on the first date… kinda hoping for a second one.”

He winked playfully, and she couldn’t help the shocked laugh that burst out of her.

“What did you pick? If there are spiders, I can’t watch it.” She warned, teasing him, and he shook his head.

“No! It actually looks funny more than anything. M3GAN? Have you heard of it?”

Frowning, she reflected on the things she’d seen and couldn’t stop the thought that reminded her that her whole life had been a horror movie for months. She did not remember if she had stumbled across a trailer or something for it.

“I don’t think so. What is it about?”

“Ahh, it’s better it stays a mystery. I want to see your face when she’s on screen.” He joked, making her giggle and play with the ends of her hair.

“I swear, if it’s anything gross, you will pay my next therapy bill.” She laughed. Dan’s undignified snort only intensified her joy.

“Deal. We’re here,” he said gently, and she was startled, suddenly realizing they were parked behind the movie theatre, and she hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped.

She hurriedly unbuckled her belt and reached for the door handle. Dan’s voice stopped her from opening it.

“Wait, you can’t deprive me of my gentleman routine!”

Chuckling, she smirked and said, “Gentleman? Come on, Dan, we both know you’re far from that.”

He exaggeratedly gasped, clutching at his chest while she tried to hold in a stupid giggle.

“You wound me, Genna! I am a sophisticated man who knows how to treat a woman.”

“My apologies, Daniel. Go on, treat me like a lady.” She teased to make his lovely eyes twinkle. The pleasure of his nickname for her still made her chest glow.

Watching as he got out and walked around the hood of the car, she bit down on her lip to restrain her joyous smile, trying to break free, and quickly failed as he opened her door with a flourish. He held out his hand, head bowed and watching through a fan of thick lashes as she took it. Tingling like a thousand tiny creatures crawling up her arm as their skin connected, the fireflies in her stomach took flight again as he helped pull her out of the low car. Her cheeks were stained pink, and a delightful warm flush crept up her neck, yet she felt utterly at ease with this man. He had seen her at her worst. Her most desperate moments had been spent with his face on her phone screen, and she had done the same for him. There was nothing to hide as she tipped her head back to meet his eye.

“Thank you, sir,” She joked as he closed the door and locked the car.

He chuckled, voice dry as dust as he said, “Sir? I’ve been called many things, never that.”

“Let me guess, uncouth, cheeky, strange... should I go on?”

He winked and slung her arm around her shoulders as they approached the ticket booth.

“You missed mouthy, obnoxious, and charming!” He chirped, making her look away to hide the smile hurting her cheeks.

He quickly bought their tickets, dropping his arm to hold the theatre door open for her and ignoring her arched brow as he fell into step beside her, and they headed for the concessions stand. Scanning the menus, her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t been able to eat much that day. Too excited and nervous, she’d forgotten that food was a necessity as time finally grew legs and tried to outrun her. Dan heard and ordered the most enormous bucket of popcorn they had, more of a trashcan, really, smothered in butter, and she added nachos and chocolate to the order once he had gotten them drinks. Carrying it all was the biggest challenge. Hot plastic cheese, cheap salsa, and jalapenos tickled her nose as he opened the screen door and let her choose the seats.

The room was chilly, the air conditioner working overtime as the bodies filling the theatre raised the temperature. It wasn’t full yet, but almost there as she climbed the darkened stairs, desperately praying she wouldn’t trip as she spied an empty row near the back. Glancing back to ensure Dan followed, she guided him into the middle of the row and plopped down. The previews started as Dan handed her a drink, and he settled in beside her. The dim lights went off, sounds of explosions, some hero rallying their team to defeat the enemy, and the quiet murmurs of people chatting about which movie they’d see next filled her ears as static skittered over her skin. His arm had come up beside hers, barely touching her, but she felt it like a shock each time he shifted, and his skin brushed hers. The hair on her arm stood straight as he did it again, and she wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it.

By the time the movie started, she had run through a hundred scenarios and questions, wondering how the date would end and if he’d make a move. Would he do it here? Taste like popcorn and syrupy sweet Dr. Pepper? She wasn’t sure, couldn’t plan for it, and didn’t want to. They shared the popcorn, blindly reaching for handfuls, jolting each time their hands met, and shyly smiling at each other. It was driving her mad in the best way. She took a deep pull of her drink to wash the saltiness away as the titular character appeared on the screen. She almost sprayed Pepsi out of her nose. Dan was grinning as she turned to him and shook her head.

“That’s the reaction I hoped for,” He had leaned in so close his warm breath ghosted down her neck, and she suppressed a shiver even as she smiled.

“I’m glad you find me amusing,” She laughed, ignoring the tremor in her hand as she rested her arm beside his again. He hooked his pinky around his almost absentmindedly. He watched her, though, like he was ensuring she was okay with it. The world might not see it, but Dan was sweet, and she would fight anyone that said otherwise.

It went on like that. Tension swirled and grew more palpable as the evil doll robot thing murdered everyone that displeased her owner. It was a current under and over her skin, electric and vivid, like she had finally awoken from a months-long sleep, and the world had returned to full, screaming color. The small touches lingered longer, hands reluctantly parting and shifting imperceptibly closer to each other. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and see what he would do if she did. Just do it. He clearly likes you! Stop overthinking it. She chanted it over and over in her mind but slumped down in her chair as courage failed her, and the voice in her head called her a coward.

Eyes glued to the screen, she tried to ignore the melancholy trying to creep into her heart at her inability to make a move. Dan either sensed it or had been having a similar internal battle. She managed not to jump out of her skin as his arm wound around her shoulders, fingers tapping the bare skin of her shoulder, scattering goosebumps down her arm as she turned to find him gazing at her with a question in his eyes. Is this okay? And she melted as she nodded and relaxed into it, finally giving in to the urge to rest her now silent head on his broad shoulder. She felt as if her blood had been replaced with helium, and she was at severe risk of floating away as he squeezed her gently.

The empty nachos tray lay at their feet, and the popcorn bucket was almost done, too, as Dan set it down on the open seat beside him, and every inch of her was alert as he settled back down. The weight of his eyes on her was heavier than his arm, and she couldn’t shake it off. He paid more attention to her than to the movie. Every time blood was spilled or that freaky robot danced, his eyes were on her to see her reaction. Her cheeks were aflame, hands trembling as she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress and tried to hide how pleased she was, but it was impossible. It was almost hard to breathe. Each little movement had them rubbing together. His breath ruffled her loose hair, and the heat coming from him was close to scalding, keeping the chill in the theater well at bay. She was dizzy, excited, and terrified all at once.

Whatever cologne he wore sent her thoughts down steamy, dark paths. Slightly spicy, woody with a hint of musk and clean skin. It was addictive, and she found herself sneakily inhaling deeply whenever she felt his attention stray from her. She wanted to brand it into her lungs and imprint it on her memory so she never forgot it. Time was a cruel mistress. It loved to drag out the boring parts, the waiting. But when it came time to indulge in the things she’d wanted for months, it slipped through her hands like she was trying to catch smoke. Neither moved as the credits rolled, enjoying the darkness and closeness as the other patrons left in a slow drip. Colville had never felt like home; she had believed it wouldn’t ever feel like hers. But in that dim room, the scent of him, his whisky eyes locked on her blue ones, she could feel the last three months of displacement and anxiety slowly slide free of her body.

There was an invisible thread between them. A magnetic force that drew them closer, mouths inches apart before they were aware of moving. Her lips tingled as she licked her bottom lip, and he followed the action. She went very still as he seemed to come to a decision and moved to eliminate those last inches just as the lights came on and the door slammed shut, indicating everyone else had left. They sprang apart as if lightning struck them as the usher tidied up for the next showing. Shaking hands and black internal curses at this stranger for interrupting their moment were all she knew as they hurried out. Dan burst out laughing as he held the main door open for her, and they skipped out into a beautiful summer’s night.

A plush blanket of stars glimmered overhead as he took her hand, threading their fingers together and slowing her to a casual stroll. They ambled toward the car park, taking their time as they chatted and joked.

“Your face... I wish I had taken a photo. I want it as your contact pic.” He said as she nudged him with her elbow.

Her fingers were fizzing between his, the innocent contact sending sparks flying up her arm and into her chest.

“It was funny, not scary... Though I’m sure my nightmares will now consist of that thing dancing down the hall to kill me.” She retorted as they waited to cross the busy road.

“Yeah, it made me want to climb out of my skin. Creepy.” He laughed as his hand tightened around hers, and they crossed the street.

Her heart rate was more appropriate for a life-threatening situation, not a first date, as they entered the parking lot, and his car came into view. She didn’t want to end it yet. Wanted to talk with him for hours and then do it some more when the sun came up. His steps had slowed almost to a crawl, and it made her feel brave that he was reluctant to end the night too. She smiled as he let go of her hand long enough to open the car door for her, waiting patiently for her to get in, but she paused in front of him, making him toss her a questioning look as she took a deep breath. He was much taller and bigger than her. Indeed, he was a bear of a man, and she had to push up on her tiptoes, tentatively laying a hand on his hard chest as she brushed a tender kiss onto his bristly cheek.

It was meant as a chaste, quick peck to thank him and show him she was open to more than friendship. His reaction was beautiful. She had never imagined Dan Anderson could blush! But roses were definitely blooming in his cheeks, and he moved mechanically once she’d belted herself in, closing her door and marching around to get in his side. Neither spoke until he’d pulled out of the lot and merged with the traffic. The radio played softly, an old rock song she remembered her parents singing along to the last time she’d visited them. Every glance they shared was charged by indecision and reluctance to end their lovely evening. She was tired of denying herself good things, and she thought he might be too, so she dredged up as much confidence as she could gather and offered him a way to extend their night.

“If you take a left just up here and follow it for a few miles, we can sit at this quiet spot near the docks and see if we can catch any falling stars.”

“What the lady wants...” He jested, making her giggle like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

The spot was quiet, a small hidden cove not many knew about, and she often walked there during her many sleepless nights to watch the sun recolor the world once the moon had turned into its watery bed. It was peaceful and calming, and hardly anyone went there as there was no beach to play on. The sky looked like fine art on the best nights. Sometimes, she felt that each masterful stroke of shadow and brush of light across the endless sky had been done purely for her eyes. She hadn’t told anyone else about this place and crossed her fingers that he would like it too. Her breath was tight in her chest as he took the left turn and coasted down the tarmac while she told him where he could park. Too soon, they reached their destination, and she had to fight not to hold her breath as he stopped the car and stared through the windshield at the water rippling endlessly before them.

“We can sit inside, but it’s better outside,” She nudged when he remained quiet long enough that she was starting to feel the urge to pick at her nails again.

“Come on then, Genna show me; it is your spot after all,” He said after shaking out of whatever was holding him captive.

She searched his face for any sign of turmoil or regret, found none, and relaxed slightly as he helped her again.

The salt-coated wind on her face, brine, and a clean freshness perfumed the air, and she breathed it in deeply, quickly calming down now she was in familiar territory. Her nightmares usually chased her here. Many tears had dried on her cheeks as she stared longingly at the sky, begging for a reprieve from the terror. She wanted to replace all that with something good, something fragile and full of glittering hope as they perched on the hood of his car. He didn’t hesitate this time. His arm wound around her waist and tugged her into his side as she followed his lead, arm wrapped around his hips and hooked her thumb through his belt loop. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, kicking carelessly as they enjoyed the peace. So many words were crawling up her throat, begging to be given life and sound; she was tired of holding them in.

“Thank you,” She whispered, “Not just for tonight, but for everything. You didn’t have to be there every night and day.”

“I didn’t, but I wanted to be. You don’t need to say thank you. You did the same for me.” He replied just as quietly, uncharacteristically somber for him.

“I don’t need to, but I wanted to.” She said, lifting her head to meet his eye as he smiled at her.

“I accept your gratitude, my lady,”

She snorted and poked him in the side, delighting in his false shout of pain before he laughed and kissed the crown of her head.

“Just so you know, those nights you struggled? I was struggling too. I needed you just as much as you needed me. I hope you know that,” He confessed in a murmur, serious and utterly free of his usual snark. It touched her, and she felt like she’d been dipped into a hot bath. The cold night didn’t bother her as they basked in silent comfort, speaking and joking when something popped into their heads. She couldn’t remember a time she had been able to indulge in those silences borne between two people who understood each other and did not need to voice everything that came to them. It wasn’t something she had thought Dan was capable of, but he kept surprising her. His fingers drew patterns over her dress, making her shiver and lean into him.

Soon, they lay back on the car, she mourned the loss of his touch for a split second, but he immediately grabbed her hand as they got comfortable. They stole glances at each other through their periphery as they watched nature’s finest show in the sky above them. His thumb made slow circles on her hand. An incredible prickling sensation moved in the wake of it, and she shifted closer until their heads and legs touched too. Contentment was a rare thing for her. She always found some way to sabotage it or deny it. Still, she felt it then under the melody of stars and the crash of the waves, and her heart was the drumbeat to the song her mind composed in honor of it.

“Did you tell anyone you were meeting me tonight?” She asked after a long while just to hear him speak.

“Thomas and Jessy. They’re both too happy about it, and Jessy demands that you visit her soon.”

Forcing a laugh for none had reached out to invite her or check on her, she said, “Tell her I will come soon... How are they all?”

Dan caught the shift in her mood but understood she didn’t want to poke at that wound.

“They’re okay. Some are worse than others, but they’re better than they were... It’s still weird, though.” He said, and she nodded, understanding they might never be okay again.

“Maybe one day this will all just be a memory that doesn’t hurt anymore.” She muttered, hoping it would come true as a star streaked across the sky, and Dan instantly pointed at it.

“What do I wish for?” He said with a wide grin, turning to her as if she held every answer to every question he’d ever had.

“Whatever you want, it has to be yours.” She teased as he gave her a resolute nod and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second as the star vanished.

When he looked at her again, she couldn’t stop her nosiness, “What did you wish for?”

Dan shook his head, “Can’t tell you. Then it won’t come true.”

“If you tell me, maybe I can make sure it does,” She chuckled, eyes locked on his rugged face as his gaze dipped between her mouth and a spot over her head.

She thought he would ignore her, change the subject or make a joke. He didn’t.

“Or I can make it come true myself.” He said in a voice that wavered as her body went loose and tight, her hummingbird heart out of control as she nodded without any idea what she agreed to.

It didn’t really matter. Not as he moved so close, her vision doubled. All she could see, feel, and smell was him. Electricity sparked under her skin as he let go of her hand to cup her face, tilting her head so gently it made her want to cry. He was careful and slow, giving her time to back away or turn him down. Instead, she gave in to the need to scratch his bristled jaw and wordlessly handed him the consent he sought. Her pulse flickered in her throat, breath quickening along with it, the rush of blood in her ears as time stretched out and the world around her faded until there was only Dan. Supple lips on hers, delectable and plush as he tested the waters, and she let go of the breath she was holding. He made a sound then like a leash snapping as he grew more insistent and brave. The scratch of his whiskers, the heat of his body, and his big hand dragging her closer chased away any doubts still flittering about her overthinking mind.

He tasted like sugar and salt, sweet with a bite as she opened for him, and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. It felt like discovering something new and coming home all at once. Unfamiliar but somehow fitting her perfectly as she mapped the shape of his lips, his hand dropped to her hip to pull them flush together. It was a clumsy kiss that soon turned into something so sweet and profound that she felt her nerves melt away as her body slackened and the tremor in her hands stilled. Her fingers were in his silken hair, trying to pull him closer in as her greedy lips opened wider, and she nipped at his plump bottom lip to feel him smile. His very male scent in her nose was so enticing she sighed and let herself enjoy being soundly kissed for the first time in years.

Their lips tasting each other, their roaming hands, and the scrape of his beard on her flushed, sensitive skin was all she ever wanted to feel. She felt free, a little wild, and wanted, and it was a gift beyond price as he taught her a secret language that needed no sound or words but their panting breath shared between two lungs. In all her imaginings, she had never come close. She had expected roughness, grasping hands, and a demanding mouth from him. He held her like she was made of fine glass, reverent, and like she was something he never wanted to break. It made her heart quiver and jump as they kissed. Heat cascaded through her chest and banished the frosty layer that had protected her during these past months of painful healing. The weight of it had been crushing, and now it was gone.

Magic. She had never believed in it before. But there, on the hood of his car under the stars, she felt it ignite in her veins as he broke the kiss to stare into her eyes, and she knew his world had just tilted upside down too. All they thought they knew was now gone, and something new was ready to bloom. If they were brave enough to take it, they could grow like ivy, out of control and all over each other. Was she prepared for that? She didn’t think anyone was ever truly ready to change their lives to include another. So, instead of overthinking and writing a thousand speeches, she would never say out loud, she was tired of playing it safe. Imogen took a deep breath and jumped.

“Your place or mine? I’ll pay for breakfast.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I may or may not write another part. I haven't decided. I wanted to write something romance-focused without smut to see if I could. Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to know! :-)

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