#Main Concourse

[rabbitcruiser]

Grand Central Terminal was opened in New York City on February 2, 1913.  

[jstor]

From all of us at JSTOR, happy Black History Month!

The profound impact of African American writers, artists, politicians, and academics, along with countless others, is indelibly etched into the fabric of American history–and we'll be highlighting them all month long.

Image credit: 

Fink, Larry (1941-2023). Malcolm X, Rally for Birmingham, Harlem, NY, May, 1963. 1963, printed 2019. Archival pigment print, 22 x 17 in. (55.88 x 43.18 cm). 

Levy, Mark. Mississippi Freedom Summer 1964. 1964. Queens College Special Collections and Archives.

Borg, Erik. Toni Morrison. August 26, 1977. 

Lisa Kuzia. Angela Davis. 1980-1985. Black and white photography, 4 3/4 x 3 3/4 in. Special Collections and Archives, Colby College Libraries, Waterville, Maine. 

Padow-Sederbaum, Phyllis. Junior NAACP Demonstration. 1963. Queens College Special Collections and Archives. 

Allied Printing Trades Council. Placard from Memorial March Reading “HONOR KING: END RACISM!” 1968.  National Museum of African American History and Culture; On View: NMAAHC (1400 Constitution Ave NW), National Mall Location, Concourse 1, C1 053; Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. 

Created by C. M. Battey, American. W.E.B. Du Bois/. 1918. Silver and photographic gelatin on photographic paper. National Museum of African American History and Culture; Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. 

Mosley, John W. Civil Rights Demonstrators at Girard College. Philadelphia PA: Temple University Libraries, 1965-07-17. Charles L. Blockson Afro-American Collection.

[soaringmirror]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 — jean kirstein

notes: this is a repost one of my fave things i've written this year, mostly bc it's personal to me <3

content: gn!reader college!au, selfship, fluff

you stand with your hands in the deep pockets of your coat, toying with your keys and keychain around your fingers just to make sure you haven't lost them. the evening is chilly and your train home isn't for another 7 minutes. it's busy around this time but you take a moment to admire the evening sky as you wait. you wonder if jean has finished his class yet or if his lecturer is keeping the whole class back again. 

it became routine to walk to the station together and give a brief hug at the concourse before parting to different platforms. if you weren't so exhausted then you'd stop by his faculty's building, pretend to study or read while you wait for him. but it's wednesday evening, you have an hour journey ahead plus a 15 minute drive and you're tired. getting home safely is your main priority and you're mentally preparing yourself. 

at the same time, you wish that you both took the same train home. you'd even be willing to let him crash at your place.

jean usually waits on the platform opposite yours, his train always arrives first, 2 minutes earlier to be exact. you always manage to wave goodbye. he isn't anywhere to be seen amongst the crowd. 

you: sorry for going first, i'm soo tired. get home safely :) 

it's short and simple, but you do hope he gets home safe. you shove your phone back in your pocket and let your playlist drown out your thoughts and lecturer's voice.

across from you, his train arrives. you watch as people settle in, escaping from the cold night air. just as the train is out of sight, you feel your phone vibrate. 

jean: sorry, the lecturer kept us back again. i'm so over this. get home safe too okay? 

you: mhm, was he rambling again? 

jean: yeah, off his head. i swear i'm always zoning out in that class. 

you laugh at the thought monotonous chatter boring jean to death. 

you: i didn't see you at the platform. did u miss ur train? 

jean: yeah, next one comes in 12 minutes. i can't be fucked waiting. i just wanna crash in bed already

part of you feels bad that he has to wait, the other part just wants his company. your train comes in a minute, but it feels as though you have a split second to initiate. 

you: come home with me, my train comes in a minute so if u hurry you'll make it. 

jean: what, u can't be serious. 

you: i'm dead serious so hurry up unless u wanna be waiting in the cold. i'm driving too. 

jean: fine fine. good thing i was already walking your way. 

"dead serious, huh?" jean approaches you from behind, his breathing slightly ragged. a pink hue reminiscent of the evening sky is visible on his face. 

"dead serious," you confirm, giving him a hug. his body slumps slightly into yours as he catches his breath. 

finally, your train arrives, creating a slight breeze as it slows to a stop. you lace your arm around his and guide him to the empty seats. as a window seat enthusiast you're usually determined to find the window seat and pretend you're in a music video. but you don't mind him taking your (rightful) spot and crashing there for the next hour. 

the carriage is quiet apart from the scattered conversations between people. jean looks exhausted but still manages a few words of thanks and appreciation before asking if it's okay to dose off. you nod and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder.

it feels... nice. 

by the time you make it back, the car park is deserted. with the guidance of the streetlights, you walk to your car and thank the universe it's still in one piece. headlights illuminated the pitch black road, you were focused yet content listening to your playlist and the occasional sound of jean's voice beside you. 

thanks for reading <3

[boxboxlewis]

The tourist was clearly Outwith, with a sleek and vaguely prosperous air that spoke to an upbringing on some privileged planet with plentiful gravity and natural starlight. He reminded Max of his sister’s fat babies: all placid and innocent. He was going to get eaten alive on Bas Station, but that wasn’t Max’s problem.

“...I have paid already, to have my authorization expedited,” the tourist said. The slight pause before he spoke gave away that he was using a translation implant; his fluency showed it was an expensive one. Max, Inwith from birth, who spoke three languages the old-fashioned way and tended to view neural implants as cheating, rolled his eyes internally.

“I doubt that, if this is your first time on-Station,” he said. “Show me this authorization, please.” He watched as the tourist fumbled around in a metal-plated rucksack of the sort that was marketed to worried idiots as “theft-proof."

At last the tourist withdrew a holochip, and held it up, evidently relieved he hadn’t lost it. “...Here it is.”

Max scanned the holochip and words in High Bas appeared, floating in the air. By the order of the Commission for Bas, LANDO NORRIS is granted entry to Bas Station and all rights, moreover, to conduct business without taxation or onerous duty, heretofore. Signed, DANIEL RICCIARDO, COMMISSIONER. 

He sighed, and looked at the tourist’s face. “Lando.”

“...Yes?”

“You’ve been scammed.”

Lando’s face literally drained of colour, which was kind of cool because previously Max had thought that that metaphor was exaggerated. “...But I paid him. I paid the man, I gave him money—”

“Yes, usually that is how scams work.”

“...But—”

“This man, Daniel Ricciardo? He is not a commissioner of anything. He's a con man. Does your translation software have that word? He is a crook. A bandit. A felon.”

Lando was gawping at Max unattractively, mouth hanging open. Max sighed. “Let me guess. You met him at some backwater waystation between your planet and Bas. He knocked into you on the concourse, maybe, and said he wanted to buy you a drink to make up for it. You started chatting, and he told you he was a commissioner on Bas. What a surprise, you are on your way to do business on Bas! So he offered to help you out. He implied that, for a price, he could save you all of our annoying intake fees. He showed you a very official-looking ID.”

Lando looked like he was maybe about to cry. He said, “...How do you know this? Do you know this man? If you know this why hasn’t he been arrested? I want the police, I want to make an official report—”

“Well, of course you can try.” Max let himself sound slightly dubious. “But you maybe do not want to start your business dealings on Bas by announcing to everyone that you have been scammed. And Daniel has many friends. Even on the police. Even here, among the border guard, there are those who protect him. I doubt you will have much luck if you go through official channels.” He hesitated, and Lando, predictably, lunged for the bait.

“...But there is something I could do? Unofficially?”

“Well. I of course do not like it when this criminal makes a mockery of us.” Max looked down at his hands, and then back up through his lashes. Time to let Lando feel like a big man. “There are… some people I could call. To have him taught a lesson. It wouldn’t be cheap—and their fee would be in addition to the authorization costs you still need to pay, naturally—but it would perhaps be… enjoyable. For you to know that justice had been served.”

Lando set his jaw. “...Yes. Yes, but this time I want proof. I want photos to my implant chip after it’s done, all right? …Or I’m going to the police, and I’m reporting you too.” He was posturing, full of bluster: that was fine. The main thing was, he was going to pay. Max felt a vicious thrill of satisfaction, which he was careful to keep off his face. 

“You’ll get your photos, don’t worry.” 

Lando, still pale and sweating, jutted his chin down, as if nodding firmly was going to let him reclaim control of the situation—nice try, Lando—and then it was just a matter of sorting out details. 

In the end Lando paid 500 credits for the privilege of having Daniel Ricciardo beaten up: more than Max's salary for three Standard Bas Months. They were unmarked credits, too, which meant no taxes, and no awkward questions from his bankchain. Max was whistling as he made his way home after work.

Daniel was there already in the double-occupancy pod they shared, looking blue and ethereal under the anti-jaundice lighting. “Maxy! Fuck, it’s good to see you. Good day?”

Max leapt onto the sleeping bench and crawled his way up Daniel’s body, slotting his arms under Daniel’s arms, nuzzling his face into Daniel’s neck: making his way back home. “I hooked that tourist you hustled on Barathar waystation. The baby business idiot you sold the fake entry authorisation to? I told him it was a scam and he gave me 500 credits to have you beaten up.”

Daniel’s body shook as he started laughing, sending warm tremors all through Max’s body. “Are you fucking serious? Max, you’re a legend. It’s an honour to know you. Five hundred credits?!” He crooked his knee up between Max’s thighs, rocked his hips up. “With that and the 300 credits I already got from him… feels like it just might be time to put a downpayment on that flyer for you. Get you back on the racing circuit.”

Max hummed and pressed his own hips down. “Hmm, well. The thing is I have already spent the money, actually.”

Daniel went very still but his voice was still warm when he said, “Oh, yeah? Major shopping spree at the arcade, huh?” So he maybe thought Max was joking.

Max had not been joking. He tried to make his voice casual as he said, “That hydroponic allotment you wanted? To grow grapes, so you can make wine like they did on Earth? I’ve leased it. For twelve Standard months, it’s all yours.”

And then he didn’t say anything more, because Daniel had rolled them over, and was kissing him.

thank you to @magicalrocketships for reading this over!!

[frozenwolftemplar]

'Tis the season for *fun* conversations

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (2019)

Rating: G

Word Count: ~1,152

Just a little Christmas fun, inspired by my thinking about the societal constructs Carmen wouldn't have encountered growing up sequestered on VILE Island.

Apologies if this isn't very good, I've been trying to get out of a writer's block rut and this is the end result :/

+++

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As one, Zach and Ivy turned from the television set to stare puzzled at Carmen, feet curled under her as she reclined on the hotel suite's armchair, then each other, exchanging baffled looks. The boss didn’t usually watch TV with them, spending post-caper evenings chatting with Player or people watching from hotel balconies or lobbies or nearby concourses; questions were to be expected on the odd occasions she did join them. But for this show?

“What’s what supposed to mean?” Ivy asked, setting down her can of Coke precariously on the arm of the couch.

Carmen gestured at the screen, indicating the kiddie Christmas cartoon that was the night’s main event. Really, she couldn’t see what made it, per Zach and Ivy’s insistence, "a classic" that “they had to watch:” most of the characters were on the mean side, especially the season’s ubiquitous Santa Claus (guy was a jerk to rival Shadowsan; what about him was worth celebrating for a solid month?), the music was tinny and off-key more than it was on, and the story about a deer who couldn’t catch a break was more aggravating than amusing (another seasonal mystery: what was festive about watching someone get bullied?).

But cartoons had been nonexistent on the Island, and watching the little stuffed animals seemingly, on their own accord, move was a diverting novelty. So while it was snowing too hard to avail themselves of what Chicago had to offer and she was gaining firsthand experience of what it was to be ‘snowed in,’ (something Player had found wildly amusing: “You said you wanted to know what living in Canada was like.” “I take it back.” “Too late!”) she’d accepted the siblings’ offer to pass the night with what was apparently an essential component of American Christmas, letting herself be mildly entertained by the childhood magic she’d missed out on in the form of an admittedly cute deer prancing across the screen, singing songs with an aspiring dentist (American Christmas did not make much sense).

Being mildly entertained did not preclude having questions, though.

“Man’s work,” She clarified, repeating Donner’s justification for excluding his nameless wife from searching for their runaway son. “What even is that?”

Neither sibling reached for the remote as the cartoon cut to a commercial break and ads began to blare, the television forgotten as they stared at Carmen like she’d just sprouted antlers to match the puppets on screen. “…Seriously?” Ivy asked, the word tight with disbelief. “You’ve never heard anyone say somethin’ like that? No one, like, ever said you couldn’t do something ‘cause you were a girl?”

“Um…” Carmen furrowed her brows, thinking back over her previous life on the Island. There were plenty of times she was told she couldn’t do something: play with Dr. Bellum's inventions, hike into the jungle by herself, poke around Countess Cleo’s wine cellar, rifle through Countess Cleo’s closet (the countess had been one of the main issuers of ‘don't-do-that’s, right after guess-who (again, jerk)), enroll in the Academy, sit in on Graduation (something she never did see but that still turned her stomach), leave. But the reasons had always boiled down to her being too young, too immature, too unruly; being a girl never had any bearing on the 'why's behind the 'no's.

“Ever?” Incredulous italics slanted through Ivy’s voice as Carmen slowly shook her head. “Wow.” She sat back on the sofa with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest, the Colgate spokesman’s smile taking on a suddenly nervous air at the venom in Ivy's glare. Grabbing her soda, she slammed back the rest of the can, then crushed it with a hand that had the innocent polar bears giving a growling crunch in alarm. “Guess VILE had something going for them after all.”

Confusion deepening (because how could VILE have anything going for them?), Carmen turned to Zach, the bowl of popcorn speckled with M&Ms and marshmallows sitting uncharacteristically forgotten in his lap. “Did I miss something?”

Zach blinked. “Apparently, sexism.”

“Sexism?" Carmen repeated slowly, the word an unfamiliar texture on her tongue. She flicked her gaze down at Ivy’s venomous snort, then bounced back to Zach. "What’s sexism?”

Zach's ears suddenly flamed to match his hair. "Uh..." He turned his attention to the all-consuming task of rummaging through the popcorn bowl for any bits marshmallows that’d survived Carmen’s turn with the bowl (a futile endeavor; she’d been commendably thorough). “You wanna take this one, Ives?”

“No.” Zach yelped as Ivy, face black, snatched her own handful of candy-dotted popcorn and champed it viciously, letting the unfortunate kernels pay for the insults of those idiots back at the track.

“But you have experience!”

“Experience?” (you could have experience at sexism? What, was it some sort of sport?)

“Which I’m *not* interested in rehashing!”

“Hey guys.” The brewing argument was doused by the sudden appearance of Player on the laptop monitor as it flickered to life on the coffee table. A bright lilt of laughing voices filtered through the door of the unfamiliar room he’d set up in, combining with the Santa hat sitting askew atop his head and array of snowmen, smiling elves, and red and green garnitures scattered about the space to give the (mostly) familiar tableau an unusually festive air. “Managed to snag a break from the family get-together festivities, so I thought I’d check in on how the snow day- well, night’s going.“

“Carm has a question for you!”

If Player was taken aback at Zach’s just-this-side-of-desperate interruption, he didn’t show it beyond a brow jumping into the faux-fur brim of the hat, merely turning to Carmen with a willing smile. “Sure thing. Fire away Red.”

“What’s sexism?”

The grin dropped, replaced with an expression that was dead-ringer for the ones Zach and Ivy had worn minutes before (was this a part of sexism?). “Sexism? For real?”

“Yes.”

Silence filtered through as realized that yes, his speakers were functioning properly, meaning that no, he hadn’t heard wrong. “Uh-huh…what are you guys watching again?”

“’Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’”

Ah (well, now he had something else to add to the list of why he didn't like that cartoon).

“Ooooohhh boy.” Blowing out his cheeks, Player pulled off the hat and ran a hand through his hair, tipping the chair onto its back legs. He didn’t mind explaining things to Carmen, and really enjoyed being her guide to the world beyond VILE (truly; he wouldn’t have it any other way), but some things…well, some things are never fun to explain.

But she’d asked, so he’d do his best to answer. This should be interesting. “Well, you see Red…”

Ten eye-opening minutes later, Carmen was seething hotter than Ivy and on her way to blow off steam in the hotel’s complimentary gym, the cartoon having lost all magic.

Because while the truth of sexism was upsetting in and of itself, the realization that VILE, of all places, was free of the sin, and the mess of raveled feelings that burst from it, was a thousand times worse.

+++

Because at VILE, they believe in equal-opportunity evil, and they have a zero-tolerance policy for sexist comments. 🙃

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! 💙

[supervillainny]

Steddie ficlet

There was no window in the bathroom and the lights always flickered when the rides were running, but Eddie did the best he could with the trailer’s cracked mirror over the sink. Just a little liner at the corner of his eyes, not enough for anyone to consciously register it, but enough to make them stand out a little more. He straightened the bandana that was holding back the tumble of his hair and took a deep breath before clattering out into the main room, snagging a packet of cigarettes off the side before flinging open the door and leaping down the stairs.

Hawkins wasn’t exactly a major metropolis, and the park had been a little threadbare even before the fairground had arrived and churned up all the grass; Eddie’d made a cursory attempt to wipe the dust off his boots but had stopped and tried for nonchalance just as soon as Wayne had looked his way. It wasn’t like him to give a shit, he told himself he didn’t give a shit, but there was still a little gay flutter in his belly when he wound between the trailers and wagons and burst out onto the main thoroughfare.

As many drawbacks as there were in the carnie life, there was still something just a little bit magical about the fair when dusk fell, just on the cusp of night. Something about the way the lights flickered and spread, the contrast between the sunlight-bright stalls and the pools of shadow between them; it made it feel like anything could happen out of the wildest tales.

Wayne was manning the shooting range, and Eddie drummed his hands on the counter and watched the slightest smile tug at the corner of the man’s mouth. He came over to lean on the counter next to him, both of them watching as a wisp of a girl with a determined mouth subtly adjusted for the pull of the air rifle and took out three targets.

“So I guess I’ve got the hoops?” Eddie said, and Wayne let out a long breath and gave Eddie a hard look.

“Wasn’t like I was gonna get any work out of you otherwise,” he said, and Eddie bit down on a grin. It made something in Wayne’s eyes soften, and he cleared his throat. “You really like this one, huh?” he asked, and Eddie scoffed even as his stomach fizzed like fireworks.

“You’re crazy,” he said, “and you’re down a teddy bear,” and he walked away while Wayne was still grumbling under his breath and reaching up to grab a prize.

The hoops were just over the other side of the concourse, and Gareth flipped him the bird as Eddie stepped behind the counter, grabbing the army-grey apron from him, the change pocket chiming as it clattered against the wallet chain by his side.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m late,” Eddie said. “How about to make up for it, I give you the rest of the night off?”

Gareth’s face brightened, and then he whistled, long and low. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”

Eddie ducked his head so his hair fell forward, ignoring the colour climbing in his cheeks. “Yeah, how about you fuck off before I change my mind.”

Off Gareth obligingly fucked, and Eddie lit a cigarette and lounged back against the side of the booth, his legs crossed at the ankle and his arms loosely folded across his chest. He stared unseeing out at the endless stream of punters, turning Gareth’s words over in his head.

It wasn’t unheard of for him to have a thing with one of the punters. Dating within the fairground got pretty incestuous pretty quickly, too many overlapping dramas when there were only a couple of guys there that shared Eddie’s tastes. So yeah, maybe he flirted, and sometimes he caught someone’s eye, and occasionally he pulled some guy back into the shadows behind the booth. He just never usually had feelings anywhere else than his dick.

And at first that was all it had been. A polished smile and a swoop of hair that’d grabbed his attention; a low voice and a glitter in dark eyes that’d coiled low in his stomach and made him want. Didn’t much matter that the guy’d been pulling a girl around behind him, her hair as fake and bright as her laughter as he knocked on the counter and paid for three balls. Eddie hadn’t been able to resist heckling him, with his flipped-collar polo shirt and his intense focus on the hoop.

What he’d been expecting was a glare, a slur, a seasoning of disdain. What he’d got had been a full-bellied laugh and a response that had startled a genuine laugh out of him. and a curl of interest that he hadn’t been able to smother since.

That night, the guy had spent more money than he should’ve, his competitiveness flaring as he set on figuring out the angles to beat the way the game was rigged. The girl with him had rolled her eyes and snapped her gum, looking out into the crowd like there could be anything more interesting than the guy’s tongue coming out to wet his lower lip, the way his arm muscles tensed as he took another shot.

Eventually, after three rounds, Eddie had taken pity on him, reaching up to grab one of the tiny garishly-coloured teddies that hung on the wall of the booth.

“Hope she doesn’t mind the size issue,” he said, winking outrageously, and had received another of those delighted laughs, his stomach fizzing in response.

“You don’t think underwhelming is what every woman secretly wants?”

Eddie had licked his lower lip, watching with that stupid heat in his stomach as the guy’s eyes had flickered down for just a second.

“Not really my area of expertise,” he’d said, a stupid risk, but while the guy had quirked his eyebrow, he hadn’t lost his smile.

“Trust me, they have no complaints,” the guy had said, taking the teddy bear and then, unexpectedly extending his hand. “Steve.”

“Eddie,” he’d responded, hesitantly taking the guy’s hand, half-expecting to be dragged forward across the counter, some kinda violent retribution for insulting Steve’s dick.

Instead he’d got a quirked smile and a considering look, before Steve had presented the tiny teddy to the girl he was with and escorted her back onto the concourse without even a backward look.

It had set a pattern for the rest of the summer.

Steve would show up twice or three times a week, always with a different girl on his arm. He would shoot a few hoops, win a small prize, and spend far more of his time bantering with Eddie than paying attention to any of the pretty girls he was ostensibly bringing out on dates. And that would’ve been that - a nice distraction, a change to Eddie’s routine, but nothing more than that... if it hadn’t been for the kids.

Eddie had been instantly a little concerned for them. One of them was wearing a goddamn wizard hat, for fuck’s sake, and as much as the fair was a place for heightened emotions and thrills and laughter, that energy could turn ugly at a moment’s notice. So when a high school junior - jock written all over him - had slapped the wizard hat off the kid’s head, Eddie had been just about ready to vault over the booth’s counter and raise hell. Only before he could move, Steve had been there, in front of the crowd of kids, towering over the bully with his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent. And not just that - the All-American Hero, Warrior for Justice part - but also the way the kids greeted him afterwards, like they knew him and liked him and didn’t have to go to any lengths to hide the extent of their geek. As a kid who’d grown up and gotten into metal and chains and leather partly as a self-defense mechanism, something a little lonely in Eddie’s ribcage gave a warm twinge. .

So yeah, he was one of the no doubt hundreds of people in Hawkins with a crush on Steve, and he’d been convinced that he was resigned to the pointlessness of that. Except he had maybe been holding out a little hope, still, ‘cos he could feel the way it fizzled out when he looked up, and grinned at Steve, and then registered the girl behind him and how he’d seen her before.

Fuck.

Steve made his usual overblown claims as he paid for three balls, but Eddie didn’t pick up on them. Barely watched as Steve sighted and threw, tossing him concerned glances between each shot. ‘cos he was - honestly, Eddie was angry with himself, ‘cos he’d known and somehow grown tendrils of hope anyway, no matter that he knew better.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice was soft, and he was leaning forward over the counter, his fingers a little outstretched like he wanted to grab hold of Eddie’s hand. “You okay, man?”

“Congrats,” Eddie said, and bypassed the usual prizes to grab one of the enormous stuffed monkeys that hung from the top of the booth. “Second date, huh? That’s big.”

Steve took the stuffed toy, a frown on his face.

“Robin? No, we -”

“Step right up!” Eddie bellowed, watching with a grim sort of satisfaction as Steve flinched a little at the volume and stepped back. “Three balls for a dollar, try your luck!”

“I -” Steve started, but the girl tugged on his sleeve, his name in her voice exasperated but still kind of fond. “I’ll be back,” Steve said, and Eddie shrugged like he didn’t give a shit, ducked his head to hide behind his hair. “I’ll be back, okay? We need to talk.”

“Sure,” Eddie mumbled, and scanned the crowd for Gareth, so he didn’t have to look at the determination on Steve’s face.

[slafkovskys]

Could you do Juraj Slafkovsky and 'you got me flowers'

warnings: teasing, a little bit suggestive, hints of daddy issues + forbidden romance?

“you know that your dad is not going to be happy that you’re wearing that,” hallie mumbles as you step out of the car, having to pull your dress down so that it would cover more of your thighs.

you flip your hair over your shoulder and reach in to grab your bag before sending a smile to your driver, intertwining your fingers with hallie’s as you walk towards the entrance, “well then maybe he should stop sending me as a representative to these things then if he’s just going to chew me out.”

“will you let me find a husband first, at least?” she rolls her eyes as you’re ushered through the door without even having your identification or invitation checked. steve, the man at the door, had worked at the arena since before you could properly walk. though he was supposed to do it for everyone, he never checked you for anything.

you got away with a lot because of him.

the concourse was already crowded with donors and players alike, all here for one purpose. raise money for whatever charity your father had chosen to support this season. he had given you the spiel and you had notes on your phone that you really needed to look at before-

“y/n, there you are! i’ve been looking all over for you.”

katerina’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard in the most respectful way possible as she makes her way toward you. the woman had become what you could only describe as a handler for you at these events. her job was simple: make sure you say the right things, act like you know what you’re doing, and make the family look good.

simple.

she gives you a once over, “you couldn’t have found a dress that had both arms and a few more inches at the bottom?”

“you couldn’t find a better attitude?” the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them and hallie turns her head to stifle a giggle at your bluntness. you huff and nod your head, “what do you need from me?”

she wipes the scowl off of her face before clearing her throat, “we need you to take some pictures with some of the bigger donors first. then, we’ll have you walk around and look at some of the things that are up for auction.”

“cool,” you mumble before turning your head towards your best friend, “i’ll find you later. don’t do anything that i wouldn’t do.”

“good thing that’s a short list,” she winks before you part ways.

you follow katerina down to the main part of the arena that had been cleared of ice and instead was lined with booths and an area set up for your photo op. you sigh as you hand off your bag, faking a smile as you make your way down the line of businessmen and women who you were meant to entertain for the next couple of hours at least.

katerina grins as you shake their hands, “this is y/n, geoff’s daughter. she’s here on his behalf tonight.”

that’s all you ever seemed to be at these things, geoff’s daughter. you ached to be more than just the offspring of the man who owned a sports franchise and that’s why you tried so hard to stay away from anything related to the team. that was until a few months ago when you bumped into him in the hallway and now you almost made it your mission to be involved in all things canadiens just for an excuse to be in his presence.

even now as you stand in the middle of a group of powerful people, fake smile turned on, your eyes search the room for him. it doesn’t take long to find juraj, parked at a booth with kaiden and he’s already watching you. under his gaze, you’re suddenly shy and you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying to balance yourself in your high heels.

god, you hated how nervous he made you.

once your photo op was over, you tell katerina that you need to use the restroom before she starts parading you around. she huffs before telling you to hurry.

you have no intentions of doing so.

you spot hallie leaning against the wall, talking to some rookie who had just been called up from laval earlier in the week. you can tell her laugh is fake and so is the hand she rests on his jersey. you lock eyes with juraj once again and you don’t have to say a word, you know that he’ll follow you wherever.

no one dares stop you as you make your way through the bench that had been blocked off for the event and down the hallway towards the locker room. when you hear his footsteps behind you, maybe you smirk and start to swing your hips a little bit just for the dramatic effect of it all. you barely step your high-heeled foot into the room before an arm wraps around your waist and he’s using his weight to force you two the rest of the way inside. his breath is hot against your ear, “not nice.”

“i’m sorry,” you turn in his arms and pout your lips. you use your hand to run your fingers through his hair before smoothing down his tie, “i’m glad that you chose the red. it looks good on you.”

“look,” he holds his arm up so that you could see his sleeves, “matching.”

you smile softly as you ran your finger over the cuff links you had bought him right around the time your two-month anniversary had come and gone. conveniently, you had a bracelet that matched the links and conveniently, you were wearing it at that moment. it was something so subtle, yet so powerful to you. “yeah, juraj, we’re matching.”

“i got you something. present,” he mumbles as he attempts to pull away. you grip his lapels because how dare he try and pull away when you rarely get to be this close with so many people around and he chuckles, smoothing a hand over your hair when you frown, “is in pocket. have to get, anjel.”

you watch as he reaches for the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls something out, something wrapped delicately in paper. he hands it over to you with a warning to be careful and your curiosity is piqued as you start to unwrap the object. once you see what it is, you look up at him with gentle eyes, “you got me flowers?”

“don’t know how to say in english, but are forever,” he waves his hand around, “no water, no sun. just forever.”

“i love them,” you grin and press your lips to his, savoring the moment between the two of you, but keeping a careful ear just in case someone should decide to come looking for you. you start to trail your lips down his neck and his breath hitches, “you know what?”

“what?”

“you should come and sit with me in the owner’s suite tomorrow night,” you mumble against his jaw and he inhales sharply.

“but your dad-”

“won’t be there. he’s on a trip out of the country, gone for another week. why do you think i’m here?” you smirk as you gently run your manicured fingers along the back of his neck, “doesn’t it sound fun, láska? me, you, alone in a suite, where no one can see or hear us? besides, why would you want to sit with kaiden and arber if you don’t have to?”

“wifi and gully less dangerous,” he sighs as he squeezes your hips and that’s when you know that you’ve got him right where you want him. “you will get me in trouble.”

“hm, we’ll see,” you press a kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away, smoothing out his suit once again, “i’ll see you tonight, right?”

“can’t leave until late,” he explains with a sad look. “will stay up for me?”

“if you’re good,” and with a wink, you disconnect yourself from him and make your way out of the locker room. you didn’t bother telling him about the stain your lipstick had left on his skin before you left. no, he had to learn that from kaiden while you watched from across the room as he frantically tries to rub it away.

katerina snaps her fingers in front of your face and your smile fades at her angry expression. your attention shifts from your blushing boyfriend to the annoyed woman in front of you who would no doubt be reporting your ‘unruly’ behavior to your father at some point in the next 24 hours. you blink, “what were you saying?”

[inviisiiblelee]

possibly Emily/molly (angel dust's twin sister)

Pure fluff

REQUESTS OPEN (SEND AN ASK!)

--------

Emily's hands crumpled the paper as she tossed it yet again into the trash. Ever since the court incident, her mind was racing to find a way to help, to make sinners’ redemption a more easily acceptable idea on the part of others. But she first would have to convince Sera, and that was the crux of the issue, wasn't it?

A groan escaped her lips, and she leaned back into her chair, hands rubbing at her face. The only reason she pulled away from the position was when she heard the sound of someone knocking at her room's door. For a moment, Emily considered telling them to leave her alone, that she was busy, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She stood up and approached the door, opening it to find a good friend, a real friend, on the other side.

“Molly!”

“Emily!” The pink darling wrapped her long arms around Emily easily, and the small seraphim was just happy to hold her for a long moment, sinking into the warmth of her fur. “Sera said you've been up in your room all day?”

Emily pulled away, but Molly only moved her hands to gently cup her face in her hands, concern written across her expression. Emily turned her face into one of her palms, pressing a gentle kiss to the open hand.

“I'm okay, I'm just … worried about everything going on. You know how the case in court went, and I think it's important to work on,” Emily said, and Molly offered her a sweet smile.

“I know, and I don't disagree. Redemption is everything that Heaven is about, but … you're spending so much time stressing yourself out,” Molly replied, “I just don't want you forgetting to take care of yourself.” Emily smiled back at her, pulling her back into a tight hug, causing the angel to laugh a little.

“You’re totally right! I’m being pretty hard on myself, so why don’t we go out for dinner?”

“Out?”

“Yes- I think I need some space from my room and from work. Besides, Sera always says that the other angels seeing me out and happy in times of doubt can always be good!” Emily pulled back, offering a beaming grin at her friend.

“I- well, if you're sure you're up for it,” Molly relented, and Emily let out a squeal of excitement, quickly pulling Molly behind her as she left the room. “Hold on, Em, I'm gonna fall over!”

Emily brought them to a small little diner, and they ordered for each other. Molly had more to share that was lighthearted, gentle stories of her other friends, silly things they'd done in the last week or so. Emily had been so caught up in her own work and worries that she didn't have much of anything to share, but she was more than happy to listen.

Good food, good laughs, and eventually paying for their meal, the two held hands and walked along the main concourse awhile. Emily waved at the angels who passed her, and her presence seemed to set many at ease. The sun had set, leaving a pretty sight of colors on the skyscape above, and the two stopped at what was similar to a lake's edge to watch over the slowly shifting view.

“I really want this all to work out, Molly,” Emily said after a while. Molly nodded knowingly.

“I know. I think it will. Redemption is possible. It has to be.”

“Right? What else would being good matter for? They can do it, I just … I need to figure out how to convince them of that. Before one of them ends up here anyway.”

“... do you think …?”

Molly didn't finish the sentence, but Emily understood, and she pressed the top of her hand to her lips and then smiled at her.

“Of course he will. He's trying. I think it'll be easier than any of you think.”

“Thanks, Em.”

“Of course.”

They watched the sunset a little while longer and a little closer.

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 15 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 7,622

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

November 21st, 2021 

Nat held Lily’s hand tightly in her own as they made their way through the concourse, music pumping through the speakers over the chattering of the excited fans – and the excited kids around her. They were following Eric, Heather, Ryan, and Ella to their suite at the Seahawks game today, and with a glance over her shoulder, Nat smirked from behind her face mask at Chris. He was walking behind them, a hat pulled down over his head, sunglasses, and a mask on, but Carson practically vibrating next to him as he rushed to keep up with Chris’ long strides was a sight to see. 

She and Chris had gotten into Seattle early the previous night, having flown from an airfield in Los Angeles. It had felt weird to Nat, not landing at the large international airport, the very one that’d welcomed her home each and every visit home in the last ten and a half years since she’d moved to California. But the one thing she still struggled to wrap her head around was the world she’d stepped into, the one where private flights with her partner had become a regularity and not a one-off experience, paid for by work for an international premiere, one where she was accompanied by other coworkers.

But as the only passengers on the plane, it provided them with the privacy that they needed, but it was a little laughable given where they were now, in stadium with tens of thousands of fans, one where nearly anyone could recognize the towering frame clutching her three-year-old nephew’s hand as Chris tried to navigate the busy concourse while also listening to the boy as he rambled about the fish he wanted despite his parents’ refusal, but Nat was thankful with every passing face that Chris seemed to be flying under the radar. 

They slipped into the suite with little fanfare, and the door shutting behind them was barely noticed as the kids rushed over to the snack table as Chris slipped his sunglasses into his pockets and the adults removed their masks and tucked them safely into their pockets now that they were the only ones around.  

Heather collected the kids masks before she and Nat began helping the kids get some food while the guys got everyone drinks, and before long she and Chris were standing at the high-top counter overlooking the field while her family got settled in some of the seats below. His arm was looped around her waist while he sipped at a beer, a sideways grin on his face as he caught her staring at him. She leaned up to peck his cheek before she turned back to her plate, taking a chip and snacking on it.

Heather stood from where she’d squatted down in front of Carson’s seat, pulling a knit hat over his blonde hair as the boy munched happily on some popcorn next to his grandfather. She walked up the short stairway to the main area of the suite, admitting, “I can’t believe we’re actually sitting in here. I feel like a celebrity.” 

Her husband, Ryan, rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his plush seat next to his daughters. “The only reason we got a suite is because we’re with a celebrity,” he corrected her. 

Nat leaned into Chris’ loose embrace, her side pressed against his firm chest as her eyes moved over the kids scattered between the adults below them until she glanced around the field in front of them, littered with players as the game got underway. “The real reason Chris got us a box wasn’t for privacy. It’s just because he knows that they’d sniff him out as a Patriots fan,” she laughed, tapping his chest with a grin as he laughed loudly. 

Chris nodded, a smirk on his face. She knew it was all in good humor – the teasing, the ribbing – but he certainly was making an effort today, to do something with her family and make a big gesture like this, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. “It does go against my religion to be rooting for the Seahawks but I guess I can make an exception this one time,” he conceded, smirking below his baseball hat. 

“You better, otherwise we’d have to ship you back to Boston for Thanksgiving,” Nat murmured as her hand slipped over his shoulder to rest on his back, a sideways smirk on her face as he met her eyes. 

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, telling her, “I gotta make it more than a day before I get kicked out.” 

Heather chuckled as she made her way back down the stairs and sat down next to Ella, handing the girl a water bottle as Nat pointed out, “Technically you haven’t even made it a day yet.” 

“Thanks for that reminder, babe,” he muttered playfully as he rolled his eyes, slipping his arm away from her waist as he grabbed his beer with a small smirk.

Nat watched as he made the short trek down the stairs, going to sit next to Carson and Eric. “I’m just saying you still have plenty of time to get kicked out,” Nat called, crossing her arms over her chest. 

But before he could respond, Carson turned to look at her, his little face screwed up angrily as he told her, “No! Chris can’t leave! He’s gonna play trains with me!” 

A pleased, almost cocky look appeared on Chris’ face as he glanced back at Nat rested his arm over the back of Carson’s seat. “That is true, Carson and I have an appointment to play together tomorrow so that can’t be broken,” he grinned, the cocky look becoming genuine when Carson beamed up at him. 

“Then I guess we’re stuck with you for at least another day,” Nat laughed, leaning her hip against the counter as she looked down at her father, Chris, and Carson, all together as they began explaining parts of the game to the boy. “Although I certainly hope that I’m stuck with you a lot longer than that.” 

Chris didn’t miss a beat and his eyes met hers as he honestly said, “Me too, Nattie.” 

She watched them for a few more moments, seeing the way Carson’s face would scrunch up in confusion and he’d point a finger at something, then the way her dad and Chris would easily explain what was going on to him. A fond smile was on her lips but soon she heard Lily ask her to come sit by them, and without a second’s hesitation she joined her nieces, sister, and brother-in-law. 

“Looks like the boyfriend is trying to make a good impression with this whole Seahawks game, huh?” Ryan asked her with a chuckle, but she knew there was no harm behind his words.

She shrugged and took a sip of her seltzer, explaining, “He wanted to do something nice for everyone since we invited him for Thanksgiving.” 

“I think the nicest thing he gave anyone was letting Alex and Zach stay home alone with the baby so they could actually rest,” Heather sighed as she leaned back in her seat, one hand holding Lily’s loosely as the little girl watched the game for a moment before she picked up a colored pencil and began coloring in a book on her lap. Nat knew Alex and Zach were a little bummed to miss the game, but they certainly had looked forward to an afternoon alone with Jack. He was almost three weeks old and she absolutely loved getting to meet the newborn the previous night, but between the chaos of the holiday season, having a three-year-old and a newborn, and Zach going back to work soon, the couple were definitely ready for a bit of a break. 

“I think you might be right,” Nat told her sister, smiling as Lily showed her one of her drawings. “It was his idea to bring Carson so that they could have a break.” 

Heather raised a surprised brow at her words. And Nat wasn’t lying – Chris had tried to think of a way to help Alex and Zach with this transition, coming up with so many, between them watching Carson for a night or two, going grocery shopping for them, really anything, but she was glad that this was what he landed on. “So he’s really trying to earn points, huh?” Ryan asked with a laugh. 

“He’s already earned plenty in my book,” Nat assured them, unable to stop her eyes from drifting at Chris, catching him as he watched Carson talk animatedly with a smile. 

She didn’t catch the pleased look Ryan and Heather shared, but when Ryan cleared his throat, she turned her attention back to them and watched as he shared, “This morning when we were getting the kids in the car he was telling me how much his family loves you, so you must have made a good impression on Halloween.” 

Nat sighed, shaking her head as she confessed, “I sure hope so.”

She loved him – she knew that without question. But it was no secret how important his family, his friend group, and his hometown crowd were to him. She always thought that had things not gone perfectly, it would provide a huge strain on the relationship and possibly even end it, knowing that from her own experience with her family and how important it was to her to have someone who not only fit in with her family but loved them and that they loved in return. He had always spoken so incredibly highly of his family and friends, and couldn’t help but feel nervous showing up as a non-famous, slightly awkward, curly headed artist, wondering what they all would think of her and then relay to Chris. But in the weeks since her visit to Massachusetts, she’d felt herself being able to breathe deeper with each and every hour that passed without a hint of rejection, knowing she had passed the test. 

Heather’s lips upturned into a smirk as she watched Nat, shaking her head as she sighed, “You’re in so deep for him, Nattie.” 

“That’s what dad told me months ago when I came for Ella’s birthday,” Nat laughed, a faint blush warming her cheeks. 

Ryan smirked, rolling his eyes as he listened to Ella as she whispered something to him.“Well it’s only worse now with that puddle of drool you have coming out of your mouth every time you look at him,” he told Nat. 

“You can’t really blame her on that though, I mean look at that guy!” Heather laughed, but patted Ryan’s chest reassuringly as he looked at her in faux-shock. 

“It’s a lot more than that. Chris is just…” Nat trailed off, shrugging with a smile. 

Lily’s head turned to look at Nat as her hand paused, mid-coloring. “What is he, Auntie?” She asked Nat, her voice soft and innocent. 

Nat smiled down at the six-year-old, her body angled towards the girl. “He’s wonderful, that’s what he is. And I love him a lot,” she told her honestly. 

Ella leaned forward from in between her parents, asking, “Are you going to marry him?” 

“I don’t exactly know yet, but I sure hope so,” Nat smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat at that – very real – idea. 

Nat knew that it was still early on in the relationship, having been together just a little over six months with a couple of those being long distance, but even with it being early on, she knew that this was special. Never before had she experienced a love and connection on this level that felt so genuine and pure. Even in five years of being with Shane she couldn’t build what she had in just a few short months with Chris and when she saw Chris turn his head from where he sat and looked up at her, just shining that beautiful smile at her before turning back to watch the game, she knew what she felt was reciprocated. 

Feeling the warmth in her chest, Nat couldn’t help but get up to walk down the few stairs and file into the row with her dad, Carson, and Chris, stopping for a moment to retie Carson’s shoe before she sat down in the empty chair next to the man she loved so deeply. Almost instantly his arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her in a little closer to him as he pressed a soft kiss to the edge of her forehead and whispered a soft, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she smiled, leaning her chin on his collarbone. “And I love that you’re here with me.” 

Nat took in the sight of tenderness on his face before he connected their lips for a soft kiss that said all the things they were both feeling. She stayed warm curled up against his side with his arm still resting around her while the game went on. 

Carson began to doze during halftime, and stayed asleep while Chris carefully passed him over to Nat. Before long, Ella and Lily joined their aunt, cousin, and Chris down in the first row while Eric moved back to sit with Heather and Ryan. Eventually, the cold wind was too strong to ignore as the kids' cheeks and noses turned pink, and before long the adults decided to head home, knowing that lasting three quarters was a success in itself. 

With their masks back on and Chris in his sunglasses as well, Ryan carried a sleeping Carson through the club-level concourse as the Martons made their way towards their car in the reserved parking lot. With the game going on, the hallways and stairwells were relatively empty, but with tired, cold kids, they still moved slowly. 

“Auntie Nat, I’m tired,” Lily complained as they moved down the flight of stairs, their voices echoing in the space. 

Nat gave her a small smile, knowing she was telling the truth. It’d been an exciting day and she was feeling worn out herself, but Lily had been overstimulated and was feeling it. “I know honey, but you could take a nap in the car. It’s a little bit of a drive back home,” she assured her niece. 

The little girl’s stride stopped as they reached the landing of the stairs, a frown likely on her face. “Will you carry me?” 

Nat sighed, knowing they still had two flights of stairs and a long walk through the parking lot. “Lily, I don’t think I can. It’s still a long walk down to the car,” she admitted, her heart breaking at the sad look on the girl’s face. 

Chris’ hand landed on the small of Nat’s back as he reached the landing, his voice low as he asked, “Do you think Lily would be okay with me carrying her? Or I could take Carson so that Ryan could carry her.” 

Nat pursed her lips as she thought over the options, but as she looked at Lily, she realized something. “Why don’t you ask her?” She asked Chris as she glanced over at him and down to Lily. 

“Hey Lily?” Chris asked as he kneeled down to be eye level with the shy girl,  his voice tentative and soft. “Would you be okay with me carrying you?” 

Nat watched her niece’s face, knowing that this would be a big step for her. Lily had struggled with anxiety and being comfortable around other people, but Nat thought that this would be a good opportunity to give the sweet little girl a choice and she couldn’t help but smile ear to ear when Lily just nodded softly. 

She watched Chris’ thick arms reach out to scoop Lily up gently, holding her against his chest while her tired head laid on his broad shoulder. Nat reached out to tuck a piece of Lily’s soft hair behind her ear before they started walking to catch up with everyone else, but with Nat just a few steps behind Chris, she couldn’t help but melt at the sight of her sweet little niece wrapping her arms around Chris’ neck to hold onto him as she closed her tired eyes. Although it was a big step for Lily to accept Chris’ offer, Nat almost figured that she shouldn’t be surprised with the aura of comfort that Chris seemed to exude. He had a way of putting people at ease and was always willing to meet everyone with understanding and compassion, and Lily was no different. 

Her eyes were practically glued to him the entire journey to the car, watching him use one of his hands to rub Lily’s back comfortingly before he carefully buckled her into the carseat. It wasn’t surprising to her how good he was with kids, knowing how much he enjoyed them, but actually getting to watch the way he took care of them, listened to all their chattering, and played games with Ella on the way back to the house, allowed her to see just what a natural he was and made all kinds of emotions stir inside her. 

By the time they’d made it back to the outskirts of Kirkland, Carson and Lily had woken up from their nap and were happy to climb out of the minivan behind Ella before they ran toward the house. Ryan and Heather were following behind but Eric veered off to go feed the chickens until Nat waved him off and told him that she’d take care of it. 

A pair of footsteps could be heard behind her and she instantly knew who it was when a warm hand came to rest on the small of her back and she could smell his musky cologne before he chuckled, “You know, it kind of doesn’t surprise me that your dad has chickens.” 

“That he got just for fun,” Nat smirked, leaning into his touch as they made their way towards the fenced in chicken area. 

Chris’ left hand was shoved in the pocket of his jeans as they walked, shaking his head as he told her, “That sounds like a very you thing to do.” 

“I got it from somewhere,” she shrugged simply, a slight frown on her face as she thought. “And from everything I know about her, my mom was normal so I definitely don’t take after her.” 

Her comment hung as she slipped out of his grasp and stepped into the chicken area, grabbing the bag of feed and spreading it on the ground. The chickens came running out to eat, but one  – the latest chicken to join the Marton family, along with Erwin – made its way around the group and to Nat. She bent over, picking up Matilda and smiling at Chris’ surprised chuckle from the other side of the fence. She turned with the hen in her arms as she faced Chris, posing with a laugh as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to take a picture. 

Once the picture had been taken, she put the hen back down. The couple were silent as she stepped back outside of the coop area, both of their eyes watching the animals in amusement. She was surprised when Chris’ arm slipped around her waist again but relaxed in his embrace and took the chance to tell him, “...They really love you, you know.” 

“The chickens? How can you tell?” Chris laughed, his nose scrunching with the action as she rolled her eyes at him. 

“Not the chickens you idiot,” she corrected, swatting at his chest as he kept laughing. “My family.” 

“Do they?” Chris asked, his voice genuine and a bit quiet. He waited for her nod, then shrugged and confessed, “I’ve honestly been kind of stressed about it. I can tell your dad likes me but I don’t know everyone else well enough to read them.” 

“They really do, I promise,” she reassured him, turning in his embrace to face him. Both of his arms were now wrapped around her waist, while her hand hooked over his shoulder as she looked up at him with a soft smile. 

“I’m so fuckin’ relieved,” Chris shook his head while he half-smiled. His shoulders relaxed under the reassurance and he quietly admitted, “I was stressing at the game with what Ryan was saying about the box and me being famous. I had thought the game would be a nice gesture but then was freaking out and thought that maybe they all just thought I was just some asshole bigshot trying to just show off or win them over or something.” 

Nat gave a sympathetic smile, knowing she’d felt the same only weeks ago. “And I thought the exact opposite when I was in Boston,” she told him. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing with confusion as he looked at her. 

She’d kept this fear deep inside of her for a while now, never wanting to make anyone think differently of her if she were to share it with them. But here now with Chirs, she felt safe, she felt loved, and she knew he wouldn’t judge her at this point – he knew and had seen far too many worse and crazy things from her for this to be the thing that scared him off. “I was so afraid your family and friends would think I was just some gold digger or social climber because I’m just a normal person,” she informed him as she shook her head at herself. 

“Everyone who met you loved you instantly, and told me so themselves,” he assured her, a frown on his face at the implication of her words. She knew he likely was more upset over the insecurity laced in her confession rather than any possible dig to any friends or family back home, but no matter what, he clearly didn’t like that confession from her. “I love who you are Nat, and I love that you don’t care about the shit that comes along with me. I love acting and I’m so thankful for the opportunities I’ve gotten to have but one day, and I hope this day is sooner rather than later, I don’t want all of that. I want to just have a normal life. I want to be able to come home to my wife and drive our kids to school and decorate the Christmas tree and have barbecues in the summer. I want my own family and I care more about that than any film or project that comes across my desk.” 

An emotional smile on her face appeared as she listened to him, hanging onto every last word. He could always do this, quell any lingering anxieties or fears with a simple reassurance, without hesitating. It meant so much to her and she truly didn’t want a future without him by her side, no matter what it looked like – struggling to scrape together money or living life without any worries about their security. As long as they were together, it was worth it to her. “I feel like we’re getting a little bit of that now,” she couldn’t help but point out to him. 

“We are, and I love it,” he grinned, his hands splaying across the small of her back on her black turtleneck. “It means a lot to me that you invited me here, Nattie.” 

Her lips pursed a little as her hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head, running through the hair at the nape of his neck slowly. “It means a lot to me that you wanted to come,” she admitted to him. 

“Nowhere I’d rather be but with you,” he assured her, his grin turning into a wide smile. 

And Nat felt that to the core of her being when he pressed his lips to hers lovingly, before his arm stayed wrapped around her as they made their way back up to the house. All of this just felt so right. Nat was here with the people she loved most in this world, and Chris just seemed to slot in so perfectly, as if he had always belonged there and that spot had been waiting just for him. 

Her focus was pulled off of him once they were back in the house and Alex was handing baby Jack over to her while Alex made her way to the bathroom, but Nat certainly wasn’t complaining. She hadn’t gotten the quality time with Jack that everyone else had the past few weeks since he’d been born with her still being in California, but she was soaking up every bit of it now that she was here and just nuzzled her face against his soft cheeks before going over to the couch and sit down with her tiny nephew in her arms. 

They spent the evening like this, with the kids all playing in the house that their mothers and aunts grew up in, surrounded by their uncles, grandfather, and Chris. They enjoyed their pizzas as they spread all over the kitchen, with the kids at the kitchen table with Eric, Alex, Zach, and baby Jack, who was sleeping on his dad’s chest, while Heather, Ryan, Chris, and Nat hung near the kitchen island, a few beers on the counter around them as they all talked loudly. 

Nat could barely contain the emotions she felt as Zach passed Jack to Chris so that he could have a break and eat his dinner. The sight of that little infant in Chris’ arms as he laughed quietly and listened to the stories the kids were telling about the latest happenings at school, was almost too much to handle and she was thankful for the reprieve when Heather took Jack, offering to get him ready for his bedtime soon. 

The kids had moved into the family room and around the television with the rest of the adults while Nat and Chris put away the leftover pizza and started tackling the dishes, but soon some tiny footsteps trailed down the hallway outside of the kitchen and came to a stop in the archway. Nat glanced to make sure it wasn’t Carson needing something or wanting Chris, but she was surprised to see Lily hovering nervously in the doorway. 

“Hey buggie, looking for something?” She smiled at the girl, reaching for a dish towel and drying her hands off. 

“Um…” The little girl trailed off, eyes nervously glancing to Chris, who was reaching for a dishwasher pod below the sink before he put it in and turned on the dishwasher, and back down at her hand, which was furled in a tight fist. 

Nat raised an eyebrow, moving to crouch down in front of Lily. “What is it, Lils? Do you want a snack?” She asked, pointing back at the pantry from over her shoulder.

“No,” her niece said, a deep blush settling on her cheeks. She opened her fist as she explained,  “I…I…made this.”

Nat’s jaw dropped open a bit as she looked down at the large rainbow beaded bracelet in her hand. “This is so sweet, buggie,” she told Lily, her eyes moving over them, seeing the variety of beads on them, her eyes lingering on the ones that spelled out his name. “Chris, I think you should come take a look at this bracelet.” 

“Oh I’m coming. I can’t miss out on this gorgeous jewelry that Lily is making,” Chris laughed from the sink, shutting the water off and drying his hands. Nat picked Lily up, putting her on the counter next to them and standing in front of her as Chris came to join them. 

“Do you see the name on this bracelet?” Nat asked, pointing a single finger at the bracelet in Lily’s left hand.

His brows raised, an excited look on his face as his eyes twinkled. “Lily, did you make this for me?” He asked her, his voice soft and touched. 

“...Your bracelets aren’t sparkly,” Lily murmured as she nodded, wide eyes as she reached out to lightly touch his red bracelet, one of the ones he’d shown her in September. 

“That is true. They look so lame compared to this gorgeous bracelet,” he agreed, his hands twitching a bit. Nat knew he probably wanted to hug the girl, knowing how much his heart must be bursting from the gesture by Lily, but that he was trying to not make her feel uncomfortable. “Can I wear it right now?” 

Lily’s little head nodded, a shy happy smile on her face as she held her hand out and Chris took the beaded bracelet, sliding it on to stack it with his other thin bracelets. Nat almost wanted to laugh looking at the rainbow beads on Chris’ wrist but she knew how much this moment signified, loving to see her shy niece show the deep affection she already had for Chris. She kept watching as Chris gushed over and over about the bracelet, pointing at every tiny detail and assuring her how much he loved this gift and just how talented she was. 

Nat knew that any child would have loved the attention but it ran so much deeper with Lily. She was so shy and reserved, struggling so much with her anxiety that it made it hard for her to warm up to new people, so for her to be this attached to Chris already was a sign of just how much she liked him and nothing touched Nat’s heart more. 

“Lily, I love this so much. Can I give you a hug?” He asked, waiting for her response patiently. At Lily’s shy nod, he wrapped his arms around her, holding the young girl as he whispered, “Thank you for my bracelet, Lils.” 

“I liked making it,” she confessed as he stepped back. 

“Can we go show everyone my bracelet, or do you want to keep it just between us?” He asked, raising a brow but smiling reassuringly at her. Nat knew without a second of hesitation that he’d do whatever Lily wished, but she found herself hoping Lily was confident enough to tell everyone about the bracelet.  

“I… I wanna show them,” Lily decided, her voice sounding more confident than it had before.  

Nat kept watching as Chris wrapped his thick arms around Lily, balancing her on his hip while she wrapped her little arms around his neck to hold on. He easily held her with one arm while he held out his other one, showing off the bracelet as he walked into the living room and loudly announced, “Look at the present I just got!” 

Even from the kitchen, Nat could see through the open archway to Lily blushing furiously as she clung to Chris but that smile of pride was evident on her face as Chris walked around to each member of her family to show off his new accessory. 

It was a few hours later with the memory of the bracelet fresh in their minds as Nat confessed to Chris, “I think you might upstage me as Lily’s new favorite,” as she shut the white door behind them, the small bedroom a little cramped with the suitcases and backpacks piled in the corner near her dresser. Chris’ bag, obviously packed for his forthcoming trip to Disney in a few days made her heart clench, but she pushed aside those emotions as she focused on right now… at how perfect today had been, so much so that she’d wished every day could be like this. Happy, peaceful, relaxed, and their own little… thing together. 

“Have you seen the way Lily looks at you? I don’t think I could ever upstage her precious Auntie Nat,” Chris smirked as he undressed down to just his boxer briefs and his new bracelet, climbing onto the creaky bed and laying against the wall. His eyes softened as he met her gaze, his voice nothing but honest as he pointed out,  “All of those kids are so obsessed with you.” 

She rolled her eyes fondly as she threw a sweatshirt over her frame and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, explaining, “It’s because I’m the out of town aunt so they just like that I bring them presents when I come.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that,” Chris laughed, pausing as a long yawn escaped him. His left arm rested above his head while his eyes drooped a bit, but his voice was engaged and low as he added, “I think I can guarantee it’s that you make them feel so loved. You’re pretty fucking good at that.” 

“It’s easy with them. I love those kids,” she whispered, sitting at the foot of the bed as she reached for her lotion, rubbing it into her hands. She silently offered him the lotion and with a shake of his head, she put it down next to her, massaging it into her arms and legs. 

“Have you thought about how many kids you want one day?” He asked her quietly, his eyes locked on her. 

“I’m not really sure,” she shrugged, looking down as her hands kept moving. “I know I want kids, but I don’t know how many though.” 

“I want a couple at least, hopefully more,” he shrugged, his answer a little more specific than her non-committal one. 

She arched her brow, looking at him with a smirk as she asked, “Are you the one having them?” 

“Nat,” he rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at her comment, his tone turning more serious before he looked right at her. “What are your thoughts on kids in the future? I think it’s important for us to talk about.” 

Having a family and children was something Nat had longed for deep in her heart for a long time, but had given up on that idea the past couple years. Once things with Shane were getting worse and then their inevitable breakup, she had given up hope on the thought of having a family of her own. Nat wasn’t stupid and knew that she was getting older and with a career like hers that she had dedicated so much of herself to, she knew that by the time she could even find someone to spend her life with, it might be too late for children… that was if she even found someone that loved her. 

But here she was, being in love and being loved beyond her wildest dreams and having him express his feelings of wanting to have this - a home with their children running around - with her was something that made tears sting in her eyes. This wasn’t some far off fantasy anymore, this was something that was possibly on the horizon and knowing that he was thinking of a future together raising their family side by side was enough to have her heart flutter. 

Nat pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she rested her chin on her knees. Although she was so happy to know that he was bringing up this possibility, she had stuffed down this deep want of hers for so long, trying to let it go that the thought of it being brought up again felt slightly terrifying. Nat couldn’t help but feel her mind wander to the what if’s, wondering how she’d be able to handle entertaining the idea only to have her hopes dashed in the future and although she didn’t mean to, Nat slipped into her coping mechanism of humor as she glanced at him sitting with his back against the headboard, only clad in those tight black boxer briefs on his toned tattooed body and she shrugged, “I mean, with you looking like that I wouldn’t mind having ten or twelve kids.” 

But he didn’t laugh as he normally did to her jokes, knowing her too well and just giving her a look as he lightly nudged her with his foot,  “C’mon, I’m being serious.” 

“So was I!” She laughed, her cheeks turning a little pink at his prodding.

“Nattie…” 

“I do want kids,” she reminded him, shrugging a bit as she looked around before she met his gaze again. “It’s just hard to think about.” 

He nodded, his voice lower and quieter as he asked, “Because of your mom?” 

“No, it’s more just that I’m afraid to entertain that idea and know it might not happen,” she finally confessed, pausing as she mulled over his suggestion. She still found herself struggling lately, even after Chris’ revelation about Shelly back in Massachussetts a month prior. He’d pushed her to finally admit the very thing she’d been scared to – that she felt no connection to her mother, and she struggled about where she fit in with her remaining family members because of it. And while she had been more open and honest about that with Chris since, it didn’t mean it still wasn’t hard. “And a little about my mom, I guess. I mean, I don’t know that I really know how to be a mom because I never had one.” 

“I already know that you’re going to be an incredible mom because of seeing how much you love your nieces and nephews and how much they adore you,” he assured her, a tiny half-smile on his face. “And I really hope that I’m the one who gets to see you be a mom.” 

“You’d want to have kids with me even after six months of finding out about how crazy I am,” she stated dryly, giving him a skeptical look.

Chris’ loud laughter echoed around the small room, loudly enough she began to worry he’d wake one of the kids as they slept happily down the hall. But before he could ruin the fun and allure of their week-long sleepover at grandpa’s, he stopped laughing to tell her, “Remember I knew you a couple months before we dated, so I knew you were crazy long before we got together.” 

Nat smirked, pushing his foot off of her leg as she pointed out, “Hey, I was trying to be serious and now you’re the one being the sarcastic asshole,” 

“I was just trying to make you laugh, but you’re right,” he agreed. His eyes moved over Nat as she sat at the foot of the bed, her legs bent at the knee as she rested her chin on her kneecaps. He raised an eyebrow at her as he sat up, hands hovering in mid-air. At her nod, he leaned forwards, gently unfurling her body and making her relax as they sat closer together, his hand resting on her leg, which was now straightened across the bed. “I’m being completely serious when I say that I want kids, Nat. And I want them with you. I know that we’re still getting closer and working on this relationship, but I really only see this relationship heading one direction because I love you so fucking much, Nattie.” 

“I love you too,” she breathed, knowing she’d never hesitate to say those words to him, never questioning whether either of them meant it when they spoke them. “And I want all of that with you too.” 

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. His hand slid up her leg to her arm until it rested on her cheek, holding her in place until their lungs began to burn a bit. As they caught their breath once they parted, he looked at her up through his long eyelashes and confessed, “You looked so fucking good with that baby in your arms.” 

“So did you. I didn’t think my poor panties were going to be able to stay on while you were holding Jack,” she laughed, running her own thumb over his bearded cheek as she smirked. 

“Hey, I thought we were being serious.” 

She laughed sharply, shaking her head. “I am being serious!” 

“You’re ridiculous and I love you,” he chuckled, sliding a bit farther back up the bed as she moved over to the singular nightstand. “But you still didn’t answer my question… how many kids do you think you want?” 

“Maybe two or three,” she shrugged, putting the bottle of lotion on the beat-up wooden nightstand, the one that had always been in her childhood room. “Probably four max.” 

Chris nodded as they settled below the covers, yawning again as she turned off the lamp. “I think that feels like a good number. I want my kids to have siblings so I want more than one but somewhere between two and four seems just about right.” 

“I want to be married first though,” she told him, her voice a bit firm. “I want that before kids.” 

“Don’t worry baby, you won’t have to twist my arm,” he laughed, his voice dropping lower as she rolled over, resting her head on his chest. “I have no intention of letting you go.” 

Her hand rested on the firm pec below her, a content sigh escaping her lips. “I have a feeling when the time comes for kids, we’ll know it,” she mused, knowing Alex and Heather had always spoken about having just…. known when they were ready to add to their little families. 

“I think we will,” he agreed, his voice hardly above a whisper. “I just hope we know before I’ve signed onto anything.” 

His words barely were cause for concern as she relaxed against Chris, quietly telling him, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to be that dad,” he confessed. Her eyes opened at those words, narrowing as she stared at the yellow wall next to him. Just as he’d earlier clocked her insecurity-fueled words, she was catching this, this self-hatred and fear he had about what was meant to be such a special time in the future for them both. 

“What ‘dad’?” She asked, wanting him to clarify it for them both. 

“The dad who’s always gone,” he explained, shrugging half-heartedly, causing his chest to rise and fall beneath her cheek. “I don’t want to be stuck filming for months somewhere while I miss out on my kid’s lives. 

“You won’t be, Chris. You’re not like that,” she reassured him, shifting her body so she could look up at him. He had a scowl on his face, one that almost told her he barely believed those words, but she persisted and added, “And even if you are gone, you’ll still be involved because that’s who you are.”

His scowl became a frown as he pointed out, “I just already am going to be the older dad, I don’t want to be gone on top of that.”

She knew their family would likely look a bit different than most, no matter where they lived. They’d have family on opposite coasts, split time among Los Angeles, Washington State, and Massachusetts, but most of all, the biggest oddity would be Chris. His job provided him – and those around him, by default – with the security that came along with blockbuster contracts, royalties, and comic book franchises, but it also meant him going away for weeks and months on end, sometimes several times a year, having a microscope on his life, and being gossip fodder. 

But none of that mattered when she looked at the grand scheme of things. She saw that it meant they’d never have to worry about having money to put any of their kids through college, they could take care of their parents when that time came, be generous, charitable, and use it for good. Sure, him being gone when they have a baby might have her eventually singing a different tune, but Chris…. Everything he was, kind, funny, smart, caring, crazily energetic, and most of all, a good person? That was worth anything, and it always would be.

“Age doesn’t make a difference in what kind of parent you are and in fact, I think being older helps you be even better,” Nat pointed out. She knew his age was something he’d grown to be insecure about as time passed without starting a family, but it would not be a crutch, not for a long time. “But let’s try not to worry about it now, okay? The future will take care of itself.” 

His frown and deep worry lines relaxed as he shook his head in disbelief, telling her, “I still can’t believe how you can always do that. You can always cut through the noise and get right to my heart.” 

“I’m kind of partial to that heart of yours,” she laughed, her eyes slipping shut as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers again. 

As they settled back into the mattress to fall asleep, his heartbeat and breathing slowed beneath her cheek as the long few days of travel and chaos with her family caught up with him. She was close to sleep herself as her eyelids grew heavy, but a distant cry in the room down the hall brought her back to awareness as Jack woke.

And as muffled movements from Alex or Zach could be heard, Nat couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like when it was them waking up to their baby crying. She couldn’t help but think about when it would be, in two years? Three? But most of all, she wondered what their kids would be like, if they’d get their blue eyes or somehow get the brown eyes that her dad and sisters had. If they’d have Chris’ reserved personality or her crazy one, her curls or his rich brown hair, thick from toddlerhood. 

But most of all, she couldn’t fucking wait. 

A/N: We hope you enjoyed this part! We truly adore it. We are so so proud of so much in this story already, but ESPECIALLY this chapter. It just means so much to us, as does your support and comments! Thank you so much for reading!

[rabbitcruiser]

Grand Central Terminal was opened in New York City on February 2, 1913.  

[evilios]

There has been, indeed, a prominent cult of Apollo in Sparta - especially in the town of Amykles (Αμύκλες) with its Amyklaion, a cult center of Apollo’s worship. Around 6 kilometers to the South from the main Spartan settlement, described by Thucydides as a conglomerate of villages, there stood Throne of Apollo with a high wooden cult statue, now unfortunately lost.

Most of the imagery of its reconstructed glory comes from the descriptions by Pausanias who speaks on its alleged appearance and its creator, Bathykles (Βαθυκλής) of Magnesia.

Artistic depiction by Ludwig Ruhl.

Artistic depiction by Theodor Pyl.

Thankfully, some of the Ancient coins have preserved the approximate image of the cult statue at the site.

Depictions of the statue on Roman-era Spartan coins.

As the statue was said to have been set over the grave of Hyacinth, it thus served as both the pedestal for offerings and the altar of Apollo’s lover, celebrated during the festival of Hyacinthia (Ὑακίνθια). It lasted for three days, with the first day being devoted to the veneration of Hyacinth’s death; the second was spent feasting over his joyful rebirth, and the third one was the day of mysteries we have little record of. Xenophon, Athenaeus, Didymus, and others, such as Ovid (who calls it “the procession of Hyacinthia”), have noted the importance of the celebration to Spartans.

Here’s a quote about how vital the festival was to Spartans:

It was the unvaried custom of the men of Amyclae to return home at the Hyacinthia, to join in the sacred paean, a custom not to be interrupted by active service or absence from home or for any other reason.

— Xenophon, Hellenica (trans. by H. G. Dakyns)

Here’s description of the celebration: Day one:

<…> Spartans observe the ritual of the Hyacinthia for a period of three days, and because of the mourning which takes place for the death of Hyacinthus they neither wear crowns at the meals nor introduce wheat bread, nor do they dispense any cakes, with their accompaniments, and they abstain from singing the paean to the god, and do not introduce anything else of the sort that they do at other festivals. On the contrary, they eat with great restraint, and then depart.

Day two:

<…> in the middle of the three-day period there is held a spectacle with many features, and a remarkable concourse gathers which is largely attended. Boys with tunics girded high play the lyre or sing to flute accompaniment while they run the entire gamut of the strings with the plectrum; they sing the praises of the god in anapestic rhythm and in a high pitch. Others march through the theatre mounted on gaily adorned horses; full choirs of young men enter and sing some of their national songs, and dancers mingling among them go through the figures in the ancient style, accompanied by the flute and the voice of the singers. As for the girls, some are carried in wicker carts which are sumptuously ornamented, others parade in chariots yoked to two horses, which they race, and the entire city is given over to the bustle and joy of the festival. On that day they sacrifice very many victims, and the citizens entertain at dinner all their acquaintances and their own servants as well. Not one misses the festival; on the contrary, it so happens that the city is emptied to see the spectacle.

— Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae (trans. by C. B. Gulick)

The Amyklaion was not, of course, only “alive” during the celebration of Hyacinth’s death and rebirth. Offerings were given on other occasions too and included spearheads, swords, javelin heads, arrowheads, weapons, and inscribed armor and weapons for the God. The God Apollo of Amyklai was a war Deity, seeing that He was depicted armed and armored - an image of might of the state. It is possible that the Spartan processions were processions of armed men, in their full battle glory. Apollo had multiple other warrior cults across Laconia, and at the very least a few more major celebrations, aside from Hyacinthia, are recorded: Karneia (Κάρνεα), Maleateia (Μαλεάτεια), Gymnopaidia (Γυμνοπαιδίες).

Thucydides reports that upon signing a treaty called Peace of Nikias, the treaty that ended the first part of the Peloponnesian War, two stelas were to be established: one in Athens, and one near the statue of Apollo Amyclaeus. With that in mind, it’s important to remember that the festival of Hyacinthia bore political significance, too.

Sources:

🏺 Amyklaion: Amykles Research Project 🏺 Hellenica by Xenophon (trans. by Dakyns) 🏺 Deipnosophistae by Athenaeus (trans. by C. B. Gulick) 🏺 Sanctuaries and traditions in Ancient Sparta 🏺 The Peace of Nicias

[vexheart]

HAPPENING NOW AT NYC'S GRAND CENTRAL STATION: HUNDREDS OF JEWS AND ALLIES ARE GETTING ARRESTED IN WHAT IS LIKELY THE BIGGEST MASS CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE NYC HAS SEEN IN TWO DECADES.

These arrests follow an emergency sit-in during rush hour, where thousands took over Grand Central Station's main concourse calling for a ceasefire. We refuse to allow a genocide to be carried out in our names.

CEASEFIRE NOW TO SAVE LIVES! NEVER AGAIN FOR ANYONE! ▲▲▲

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Workers reinstalled the clock at the information booth, January 1954. "Time Out for Clock" read the headline of a NY Times article about the slowing of the hands on the four-faced "Golden Clock" in Grand Central Terminal.

The clock, above the information booth in the middle of Grand Central's main concourse, was losing a minute or two per day and had to be corrected hourly. Its removal for repairs marked "the first interruption to the bronze clock's ticking in the 21,500,000 minutes, more or less, since the terminal was opened in 1913," the Times wrote.

Four "common" electric clocks stood in for the timepiece until workers installed the new one in March 1954.

Photo: Neal Boenzi for the NY Times

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Sleepwalk

Author: Bees

Artist: natmoose

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Cas John/Mary Lee/Lisa

Length: 27000

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, period typical homophobia

Tags: 1950s, coming of age, eventual HEA, Beat literature

Posting Date: November 6, 2023

Summary: Set during the 1950s in the small town of Hays, Kansas, Dean's got it all: great family, friends aplenty, and he's star of the basketball team, a real popular fella. But something's missing, he feels like he's sleepwalking, like nothing's ever enough, so he dreams of a life of adventure outside the confines of his hometown. Then one day, in strides Cas, this blue-eyed bohemian from NYC, and things start changing quick like a jackrabbit. They set out to explore their true selves and identities—Cas becoming a catalyst for the change Dean would like to see in himself—all while wanting nothing better than to make it through their final year of school.

Excerpt: Dean stands on the dock panting, out of breath from fear and rage and he screams. He screams at the water and listens to it bounce back, echoing and mocking, his voice but not his own.  When he can't scream any longer, he takes another breath and lets it all out again, hysterical. Dad finally catches up, pulling Dean close, embracing him with his giant arms. Dean sobs into his perfectly starched and pressed uniform, the hand-stitched Sheriff's badge soaking up his salty tears and blood. He feels like a small child again, engulfed in that embrace after a night of bad dreams, rocking gently and soothed with a tender hand through his hair. "I fucked up, Dad." John strokes his hair again and kisses his head, replying, "I know." It's not an accusation, just acknowledgment of truths that need to be spoken, things that could destroy them if they weren't true to themselves. A simple understanding that none of them are perfect. "I know, kid. So did I." --- --- --- Dean steps foot off the platform and makes his way through the winding tunnels of the dingy terminal and up through the beautifully tiled main concourse and out the wide, gaping doors of grand central station. The streets of Manhattan are dirty and packed and filled up with cars. Horns honk and the air smells stale, nothing like the fresh small-town air he is so used to. He’s never smelled anything so liberating. He closes his eyes and tips his head up to the sky, letting the sun soak into his skin as ladies in ermine stoles and gentlemen in fine fedoras skirt past him, rushing to get back to their hectic city lives. He stands there for what must be mere moments, but to him an eternity of perfect harmony within his soul. He floats above the city and stares down from the heavens. His whole life, his dreams, his hopes, never had any of these things prepared him for the absolute sense of bittersweet finality, a family left behind—and of the pure joy at the thought of a new family about to begin. A future yet lived, a future with Cas. It is there with the chill breeze of springtime on his cheeks that his old life ends, where life truly begins, and it all begins with one simple phrase in a lemon whiskey voice: “Hello, Dean.”

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[detroitlib]

View of visitors in the Cass Avenue concourse of the Detroit Public Library during the dedication ceremonies of the Cass Avenue entrance. Label on back: "Cass Avenue wings, main concourse. Dedication ceremonies, visitors. June 26, 1963."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Since When is Ice Cream Evil?

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Status: All Star

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

“Mary?”

“MARY!”

Abby began to run up the stairs.  “MARY!”

Scott and Susie followed.  “Abby, what...”

“I let her out of my sight for one second.  Oh my god.  Mary!” Abby looked on the concourse.  “Mary! Scott find security, Susie please look in the restrooms.” The group broke apart and Abby ran down to see if she had just wandered to a gift shop. Her heartrate was spiking, sweat beading on her forehead. It was just one moment that she was distracted. How could she have looked away?  As she ran, her mind whirled. She ran back to see a security guard talking to Scott. “Did you find her?”

“No, we’re locking down the stadium now,” Officer Levinson said. He spoke into the walkie-talkie, calling for a code ADAM and locking down the stadium. 

“I need Frank,” Abby said, trying not to panic as Susie ran back. “Susie?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.” 

“Fuck! oh my god.” Scott hugged Abby as an MLB official came over. “Did you call for a missing child?” He asked. 

“Yes, it’s the niece of one of the players, Frank Adler.  I’m his wife, Abigail.  Our niece Mary went for an ice cream at the top of our aisle, and I turned to look at a play for 30 seconds and when I turned back, she was gone.” 

“Alright.” He picked up his phone.  “We need to pull Adler from the game now. It’s a family emergency.”  He hung up.  Boston police officers approached the group as announcement for everyone to remain seated is done. 

“Ma’am, what does the child look like?” One officer asked. 

“She’s about 4 feet tall, blonde hair, blue eyes.  She’s wearing a white Dodgers jersey with the name Adler on the back and shorts.  Pink sneakers.” 

The officer wrote it down.  “How old?”

“She’s nine.  She’ll be 10 next month. We’ve...” Abby closed her eyes. “We’ve been having issues with my ex-fiancé and her biological mother.” 

“What kind of issues?”

“She attacked me about a month ago.  We have a restraining order against both of them because we wanted to keep them away from Mary.  Oh god,” she covered her mouth to stop a sob from escaping. 

“Abby!” She looked up to see Frank jogging towards her. “What’s going on? They said it was an emergency and...”

“Frankie,” she took a breath to steady herself, but it wasn’t working.  “Frankie, Mary is missing.” 

“What?” He looked around. 

“I let her get up to get an ice cream and... it was just a moment Frankie, just one and... she was gone,” she hiccupped.  Frank drew her in closer as Abby cried. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it was just a moment.”  He could hear Scott on the phone with Abby’s parents, who were in the stand with her brothers, wives and kids. He blinked back tears, needing to remain calm for his wife. 

“OK, umm, what do we do?” Frank asked the officers. 

“We’ve locked down the stadium,” one officer said.  “We have security looking through the surveillance cameras to see who took her. We’re going to move you to our security office.” 

“My in-laws.  They are in the stadium as well.” 

A league official came up to them after over hearing. “Name?” 

“William and Ana Hernandez.  My wife’s family should all be here.” 

“Ok, we’ll take them to a meeting room for now.”  The league office jumped on the phone with the commissioner’s office as Boston PD began asking questions. 

After 20 minutes, officials guide them to the offices away from the crowd as they hear the loudspeakers announce a missing child. Frank holds up Abby as she sobs.  “Do you have a recent picture?” An officer asked. 

“Yeah,” Frank replied, numb. He pulled out his phone and pulled the picture of Mary he took this morning. “Umm, I need to get to my management and Storm.  He’s a family friend.” 

“Mr. Storm is with Miss Storm and Mr. Evans with the rest of your family,” an official said. “Mr. Phelps has been informed of the situation.” 

“We are conducting a search through the ballpark, and we are holding all of the spectators in their seats,” a police officer said. “Did you notice anyone out of the ordinary, Mrs. Adler?”

“No,” she whispered. 

“Would Mary walk away with a stranger?”

“No,” Frank said.  “We’ve warned her about stranger-danger and all that. They would have either taken her or she knew whoever it was.” 

“Does she know a lot of people in Boston?”

“Just Abby’s family.” Frank rubbed his temples. “I mean she knew some of her old classmates, but she reached out to them when we found out that we were coming, and they are supposed to meet up tomorrow. None of them mentioned being here today.” 

“Ok. Do you have any recent photos of Mr. Weiss or Miss Adler?”

“Not one of Diane, but Mike,” Abby pulled her phone.  She found the picture from the gala she had taken. “I haven’t seen him in over a month.  Since my attack. Oh god, you don’t think...”

“We’re not assuming anything right now, but we are not discounting anything either, Mrs. Adler.” 

Abby nods but leans back into Frank, clutching his jersey as he grips her head gently to hold her to him. “We're gonna find her Cricket,” he whispers soothingly. “She’s going to be ok.” 

“She had to be so scared, Frankie.  This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let her go on her own.” 

“Baby, it's not, ok? She should be able to get ice cream and come back. They’ll find her.” 

It took a couple of hours to clear the crowd from the field, but there was still no sign of Mary. Frank was leaning his head against the wall as Abby’s head was in his lap, asleep, exhausting herself from all of her tears.  “Frank?”

He jerked awake to see William, Ana and Scott looking at them.  “Did they find her?”

“No, not yet,” William said gently. “We’re gonna take you guys home.” 

“No,” Abby said, lifting her head off of Frank. “No, we have to be here so she can find us. Please,” she pleaded with her father, “please don’t make me leave. Mary is gonna find us or she’ll be mad we left her.  We promised we would never leave her. Papi please?” The tears streamed down her face. Frank pulls her back into him, his own tears prickling his eyes. 

“She’s not here Cricket. They’ll call us if they find her.  Let me get you somewhere safe, ok?” he whispers. 

Abby nods and they stand up.  “We’ll take you to ours for now,” Ana said. “Someone can stay up and wait and take turns.” 

“She’s gone?” Abby looks up at Frank. 

“We’ll find her.” Frank swallows. “We have to.” 

Twenty-Four Hours Later...

Frank watches his wife, seating at a chair by the window, Dodger in her lap.  Abby is lifeless, staring outside, searching for her niece, their daughter.  He had come to terms with it.  That Mary was more than his niece.  He brought some coffee to Abby, seating it by the table next to her. “Cricket?”

“Where is she, Frankie?” Abby looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes red rimmed from unshed tears and constant rubbing. His heart broke at how lost she seemed without their girl. 

“I don’t know, Cricket. They’ll find her.” He wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob, his own tears falling down his face.  A phone rang in the background, but the couple ignored it, calls having been flooding in since the news broke that she had been taken. 

“Are you sure?” Frank heard William’s voice float by. “Ok, we are on the way. Thank you.” Frank looked up. “We need to go.” 

“What? Why?” 

“They found her.” 

William raced through the streets of Boston as Abby clung to Frank. What did they mean when they said  they found her?  Was she alive? Was she hurt?  All the thoughts ran ramped in Frank’s head, not wanting to vocalize and cause Abby more pain.  They pulled in front of the police station and Abby wouldn't move.  “Cricket, c’mon.” 

“No, I can’t. What if....”

“No, don’t think like that.” He kissed her head. “She’s fine and until otherwise, we are not going to think like that.”  He opened the door and helped her out.  They walked the steps with her parents behind her.  They went up to the clerk.  “Hi, I’m Frank Adler and we were called to...”

“Frank!”

Frank turned his head to see a wave of blonde hair headed towards him. 

“Mary,” he whispered.  He crouched down and caught her as she landed in his arms, toppling him to his ass.  Abby lowered herself to her knees, took the girl from his arms, crying as she clutched the girl to her chest.  He adjusted to his knees to wrap his girls in his arms, thanking God that she was there with them. It took a few minutes to get Abby to calm down enough to let Mary go to inspect her.  She was dirty and looked tired but otherwise unharmed. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Adler?”  The couple turned to an officer. “I’m Detective Carlson.  Can we speak with you?”

“Yes, ok.”  Frank stood up and helped Mary and Abby up. “Mary, can you stay with Abuelo and Abuela please?”  She nodded before hugging him one more time.  He walked Abby toward the conference room and sat her down before looking at the officers.  “What happened?” 

“An officer was on normal patrol and saw her wandering down the street.  When he stopped, she asked to be brought home to you.” 

“Where was she?”

“Cambridge.” 

“That’s four towns over,” Frank sputtered.  “Did she say where she was?”

The detective shook his head.  “We are not allowed to question a minor without a guardian present.  If you are ok to listen, we can ask her now.” 

“Abby?” Frank looked down at his wife. “Can you handle this?” Abby was still staring at Mary, who was curled into her abuelo’s lap as Ana continued to stroke her hair. “Cricket?”

“What?” Abby snapped her head back at Frank.  “I’m sorry. Yes, let’s get this over with.” 

Frank frowned at Abby, uncertain of where her emotions are at.  He went over to his family. “C’mon Nugget, the police have some questions.” 

“Why? I don’t want to talk to them.”  She clung onto William. “I want to go home and see Dodger and Scott.”

“I know, baby, but they need to know what happened. I promise, we’ll go home and see Dodger and Scott and Johnny and Susie.  They are all waiting for you.” Frank moved her hair out of her face. “They just want to make sure they know what happened.” Mary nodded and reached for Frank, who picked her up and carried her back into the conference room.  Mary moved into Abby’s lap as the Detective Carlson set up the camera. 

“Ok, so we are interviewing Mary Adler, her legal guardians are present.  So, Mary,” he smiled at the girl.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

Mary looked at Frank and he nodded. “I wanted an ice cream and I asked Abby if I go up to the ice cream man.  He was at the top of the stairs.  I was waiting and Uncle Mike was there.  I waved at him, and he said, I’ll buy you a sundae.  So, I went with him because Frank and Abby said don’t go with strangers, but Uncle Mike isn’t a stranger.”

“This would be Mike Weiss?” The detective looked at Frank. He nodded and the officer turned back to Mary.  “Did he say anything?”

Mary looked pensive.  “No, we just walked out of the stadium to the good ice cream shop and got in line for ice cream, and then he said he wanted to take me to the park across from the field.  I like that park.  We played there a lot. We walked over and we raced around the obstacle course.  I won.” 

“I bet you’re fast,” Carlson smiled at her. “What happened next?”

“He said that Frank and Abby wanted me to go to his house because of all the police that showed up. And when we got there, I asked to call them, and Uncle Mike said no. He wouldn’t let me outside to see his yard or anything.  It was really weird.  So, I waited until he was distracted, and I ran out.”  She frowned. “I didn’t know where I was, so I just kept walking and hiding until I found the police man.” 

“Did he hurt you?  Touch you in a way that you didn’t like?” Frank tensed at the questions.

She shook her head.  “No, he was just acting really weird.  Kinda twitchy and jumpy.”

“Ok Mary. Can you tell me what color house he was in?” 

“It was white and green.” Mary stopped.  “Can I go home now? Dodger is waiting for me.” 

“Yes, you can. Thank you for answering my questions.” 

“No problem.”  She jumped down as Frank and Abby rose to their feet. She stopped and turned back.  “Oh yeah, he said one more thing.”

“What was that?”

“He said that it was ok if I went with him since he was my real dad.” 

NEXT

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