#i know only this about them cos I’m sleepy and haven’t read anything else yet but I’m

[candycryptids]

Hey!! Same hat with having a robot body double for their character, my mechanist boy Alexois has one too, named Neo Proxima. Basically Automaton Queen but a handsome, long-haired robot man. Because screw it, why not. We need more robos.

OOOOOOOOOHHHH !!!! hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah you get it, we always need more fun robots to attach emotional weight and care to I love that sm

Tuesday was originally just Chuu wanting something to cook/clean for her but it got out of hand (as projects tend to) lmao

[gureishi]

Hello! Hope you are well! I love the new prompt list! I was hoping to ask for Zen with “You left your mark on me” thank you so much and have a good day 🤗

Thank you for this wonderful request, my dear!

Did I take this prompt too literally? Perhaps. But boy did I GRIN the whole time i was writing about it. I really hope this brings you a lil joy today~

thirteen: left your mark on me

Zen X Reader, T, words: 1928

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

He’s already long gone when you wake up. You have a vague, sleepy memory of him kissing you goodbye when it was still dark out—now, the sun pours through the window and your alarm jolts you violently from a dream.

It’s 8 am on a Sunday—in other words, a wildly inappropriate time to be awake, in your opinion. You rub your tired eyes with one balled fist. Why on earth did you even set an alarm today?

You’re yawning and considering just curling back up under the covers when you remember: the interview! Of course.

You stumble out of bed, dragging your blanket with you, and make your way into the living room. There are several shirts draped over the back of the couch; you can picture him so easily, with his languid early-morning eyes and his hair untied, trying on each shirt in turn and peering into the mirror—anxiously twisting to see himself from every angle, agonizing over the choice.

You turn on the TV and flop onto the couch, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. You check your phone: it’s only 8:05, so they should still be doing the intro.

The TV’s already on the right channel, and you smile, certain he set it that way before leaving this morning. He doesn’t always tell you how important it is to him that you watch—“Nothing would make me happier,” he says, “but I don’t want you to feel any pressure”—but you know what it means to him. And this is a big national news program, the kind millions of people will watch. He’ll be checking his phone right now, pacing in the studio, looking for a message from you.

You swipe to your first contact and send him a text. “I’m watching, babe,” you write. “Can’t wait.”

Just as you’re weighing whether or not you have time to make some coffee before he’s on, you hear his name; as usual, and even after all this time, your stomach does a little somersault.

He strides on screen, positively resplendent in a corduroy double-breasted blazer (good choice, you think), his hair tossed over his shoulder, glistening under the studio lights. He reaches for the host’s hand and shakes it gently. He’s got it down, you think: the amiable manner, the cool handshake, the half-smile.

The host makes a joke and he laughs lightheartedly, tossing his head back in way that’s somehow as natural as it is artful. And that’s when you see it.

Your mouth falls open. You shoot up off the couch, automatically moving closer to the screen for a better look. You rub your eyes; try rubbing the spot on the TV screen, too. But it’s undeniable

There is, without a doubt, a small, circular bruise on the side of his neck—just the size and shape of your mouth.

You lift a shaking hand to your face. No way. NO WAY.

You fall back onto the couch; he’s saying something now, answering a question about his transition from stage to film, but you barely hear him. If he was anyone else, this would be meaningless—he’s an adult living with his partner, after all, and there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about a little love bite. But he’s him. And he’s on national TV.

Your phone is already buzzing. Nervously, you swipe away the new notifications and return to your thread with him.

“Zen,” you text him. And again. “Zen. Zen. Zen.”

He doesn’t answer, of course; on screen, he’s grinning, nodding as the host makes a comment about his last movie. Reluctantly, you swipe back to your notifications.

There are several text from his publicist, of course. The first one says “Are you serious?!” and the second says “How did you let this happen?” You don’t look at the third or fourth.

There are texts from his agent and her assistant, too. His agent’s text just says “Why????” and her assistant has followed up with a longer and more formally-worded message.

You groan. This is tricky territory: as his manager, it’s at least partly your responsibility to keep him from going on TV with a freaking hickey on his neck. And as his partner, it’s certainly up to you to not bite him.

You set your phone down, deciding to give everyone a few minutes to calm down before you answer. What can you even say? You honestly have no memory of leaving the bruise on his neck, but you imagine (blushing a little) that it must have happened the previous night, or you would’ve noticed sooner. If you’d just woken up when he was leaving this morning, maybe you would have seen it, would have warned him…?

Your phone is still buzzing and you glance down at it, hoping—inexplicably—that it’s him, though you can see clearly that he’s still live on air. It’s his publicist again.

“Check twitter,” she says. Oh no.

With a mixture of dread and an almost masochistic fascination, you open the twitter app. You’re already following his hashtag, of course, and—oh no—you see his name again and again on your feed.

You scan the top tweets, your heart thudding hollowly in your chest. The tone is generally amused—“Zen on tv with giant hickey lolololol”—but still, you’re horrified. He’s trending.

Begrudgingly, you start to answer the texts from his team. No, you didn’t notice it; yes, you would have told him if you had; no, you haven’t heard from him yet—he’s literally still on live TV.

You try to focus on the interview. He’s talking about his new movie now, gesturing with those long, beautiful hands. If you squint, you can’t really see the mark on his neck, and you wonder if it’s really that noticeable. Based on your twitter feed: yes.

He’s standing now, shaking the host’s hand again, and the studio audience is clapping, and oh, you’re so relieved it’s over. You twist the blanket nervously between your fingers as the screen goes to a commercial. You mute it, let your eyes drift shut. Maybe this was all a dream.

Your phone buzzing again startles you—not a dream. It’s him, calling you mere seconds after stepping off camera, and you answer right away, nervous fingers slipping over your phone screen.

“Hi, babe!” he chirps, full of energy. It’s his just-got-off-stage voice.

You hate to burst his bubble, but: “Did you, by any chance, look at your texts, hun?” you ask him.

“Nope! I wanted to call you right away! How was it? How was I?”

“Zen…” It’s not like him to be so oblivious; is it possible that, nervous as he was this morning, he really just didn’t notice? “Um, you didn’t happen to…that is, the makeup artist didn’t say anything to you, did they?”

“Makeup artist?” He hums in confusion. He’s going to make you say it.

“There’s a huge hickey on your neck and everyone is talking about it,” you blurt out in one breath. He pauses and you think he’s going to react with surprise, shock, concern.

Instead, he laughs. Laughs.

“You saw it, huh?” He’s talking quietly, probably now in the dressing room, but there’s no anxiety in his voice. He sounds almost…pleased.

“Yes, baby. Everyone saw it.”

He’s still laughing, a kind of satisfied chuckle.. “Good,” he says.

You don’t know what to do with him. You feel your phone continuing to buzz even as you’re talking to him—it’s got to be the publicist, the agent, all the assistants.

“So just so we’re clear,” you say slowly. “You knew it was there and you intentionally didn’t try to cover it.”

“Yep!” You hear people chattering behind him; you can picture him smiling to himself as he strolls through the dressing room, packed with people, colorful and chaotic. Inexplicably, in the midst of all this, he sounds so very calm.

“Babe, everyone on the internet is panicking. Your publicist is panicking. You know she wants you to be more private, wants you to stop, like…throwing my name around in interviews.”

“I never said your name,” he says proudly.

“Zen…”

“Listen,” he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. He’s practically whispering now; you suppose he’s hidden himself away in a back corner of the dressing room to talk to you. “I know how my publicist feels, and I don’t want to upset her or anything. But I can’t stand it anymore.”

That’s a private voice, a “just us” voice—one you’re used to hearing murmured into your shoulder as he lays in bed beside you at night.

“Can’t stand what?” You don’t know why, but now you’re whispering, too.

“All this secrecy,” he says. “Babe, I want to…I want to run through the streets shouting about you. I want to tell everyone in the world how desperately I adore you.”

You can’t help it: you smile. 

“You just want to break the rules,” you tease, and he laughs again, more quietly.

“No,” he says. “I just want to make sure everyone knows who I belong to.”

“Babe…” You know you should argue; you’re his manager, for god’s sake. You should scold him, apologize for leaving the mark in the first place, make him promise not to pull something like this again. But you don’t have it in you.

“I’ll take the blame,” he says. “I’ll tell my publicist and my agent and anyone else who asks that it was just a silly mistake, that I didn’t even notice it. I’ll tell them whatever I have to, and it’ll blow over. But I just…I needed to do this. Do you understand?”

And you do. How could you not?

Much as you’d like to, you can’t deny the twinge you feel in your gut when interviewers ask him about his on-screen chemistry with some glamorous co-star or other and he has to laugh and smile politely and give them a vague response; you can’t deny, either, the sinking feeling you get when you read speculations online about whether he looked at so-and-so for a moment too long in whatever behind-the-scenes footage. It makes you want to scream.

But this…

Today, a huge percentage of the country saw him live with the imprint of your teeth on his skin. And they can wonder and deliberate about who gave him that mark all they want; it doesn’t matter, because you know. You were the one who grazed his sensitive skin with your teeth, making him squirm, moaning your name.

“I do,” you tell him. “And you did look very cute.

“Just cute?” he whines.

“Beautiful, and charming, and clever, and captivating. As always.”

“If you say so.” You can hear the kind of face he’s making—soft smile, eyes sparkling. “And don’t worry about twitter or whatever, darling. What’s that saying? Any press is good press.”

He’s not wrong, you think—trending on twitter can only help him, in the long run; his publicist will come around sometime tomorrow when she sees the inevitable bump in ad revenue. It’s not like he’s caused any harm.

Suddenly, you want to see him. You want to throw yourself against his chest and feel those long fingers on the exposed skin at the back of your neck.

“When will you be home?” you ask him.

“Maybe an hour. You need something, babe?”

You clutch your phone with buzzing fingers, anticipation pooling in the pit of your stomach. “Yes,” you say. “You.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

@currentlyprocrastinating @thesirenwashere  @ultrasupernini @cro0kedme @otomefoxystar @dawn-skies06 @nad-zeta @hunterelys

[drabbles-mc]

My Plus-One (Part 2)

EZ Reyes x Reader

Part 2 of the Original Request by @ly--canthrope​

Warnings: excessive amounts of affection and admitting of feelings 🥺❤🥺

Word Count: 2k

A/N: tbh part one was so much fun to write it made me hesitant to write a part two....but EZ is such a softy and I so enjoy writing him being so affectionate. So enjoy some cuddles and kisses and love

EZ Tag: @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @sadeyesgf​ @noz4a2​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ 

(same gif as part 1 because we love continuity)

You woke the next morning wrapped up in more warmth than you had been in a very long time. You kept your eyes shut, knowing that the slight throbbing in your head was only going to get worse if you tried to open them. Your body was slowly recognizing all of the other sensations around you. You could feel the coziness of your blankets as they kept the body heat trapped for you.

You felt a pair of arms tighten slightly around you as you stirred, but in your drowsy state you didn’t think anything of it at first. You felt a soft breath against the back of your neck as EZ let out a tired chuckle and a quiet, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” you mumbled.

There were a few beats of stillness before your brain caught up with what was happening around you. Your eyes flew open and your entire body stiffened. The events from the previous night came rushing back into your memory at full speed. You were trying to remember exactly what you had said to him, exactly what had happened.

It couldn’t have been anything too unthinkable. You had on a tank top and a pair of shorts. EZ was in a pair of sweatpants, but you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare chest into your back. His hands were resting on the skin of your stomach, safely tucked underneath the fabric of your shirt.

You felt him shift slightly, tangling his legs up with yours. You couldn’t help but to let your body sink into his despite the anxiety that was mounting in your brain. Wine-drunk you really loved to live her best life and you were left to do damage control after the fact. It was hard to try and be realistic about what happened next when you felt him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a sleepy sigh. You wished that you could just stay in that moment forever, that the world outside the walls of your tiny little apartment didn’t exist.

You took a deep breath and forced your body to relax, resting your hands on top of his. You heard him snoring softly into your shoulder and you bit back a laugh. You closed your eyes, telling yourself that a few more minutes like this wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

You don’t know how long the two of you fell back asleep for, but you were woken up by the feeling of EZ resituating himself so that he was pressed as close to you as possible. The throbbing in your head had mostly gone away which made everything else so much more enjoyable. You smiled as he lazily traced his fingers along your stomach. You could tell that he wasn’t even fully awake yet, that whatever he was doing was somewhat involuntary. A sleepy giggle managed to escape you and it made his hands still.

“Good morning…again,” he laughed into your neck.

“Are we awake for good this time?” your voice was soft, still laden with sleep.

“I think so.”

You turned in his arms so that you were facing him. Your noses were touching and your breath got caught in your throat. The two of you had never been stingy when it came to being affectionate with each other, but this was an entirely different level of close. Everything felt different from the second he showed up at your apartment on Friday, and now there was no more out-running it.

“I apologize for anything that Wine-Drunk me said or did that made you uncomfortable,” you laughed nervously.

He chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist, “Wine-Drunk you loves me. She did almost start some shit with your co-workers though.”

Your groan turned into a laugh as you shook your head, your nose brushing against his, “I’m the worst.”

“I got you out before you did any damage, don’t worry,” he hadn’t stopped smiling since you turned to face him.

You rested your hand on his bicep, fighting the urge to run it down his chest, “Thank you for looking out for me.”

His fingertips pressed a little harder into your back, keeping your body pressed against his, “Always.”

Despite every logical part of your brain telling you not to, you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his. You effectively erased any remaining distance between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment and you took a deep breath to help soak it all in. You had no idea if this was going to be the first and last time you got to have him like this.

“Do you really have to go back tonight?” you asked in a soft whisper, a smile playing at your lips, “Are you sure you can’t just stay?”

He chuckled, one hand sliding up and down your back, “I would if I could.”

“Yea? You wouldn’t mind being cooped up in this tiny little apartment with me?”

He pulled his head back so he could look into your eyes, “You kidding? I haven’t seen you in over six months. Being here in this apartment with you is about as close to perfect as it gets.”

You chuckled but your heart was racing inside your chest. You knew that he could feel it—there was no way that he wasn’t picking up on it. Every part of you was hoping that he would be the one to say something first. There was the small voice in the back of your head that was telling you that you still might be reading the situation wrong, that if you cave and say something now you run the chance of ruining everything. That was a bet you didn’t want to make.

“You good, Y/N?” he smiled.

You nodded, “Yea, I’m, I’m good. I just…I’ve missed you so much.”

One hand crept up to cup your face and you immediately leaned into his touch, “I’ve missed you too,” his thumb traced along your cheekbone, “Every day, all the time.”

You felt a knot forming in your chest. As difficult as it was, you forced the words out. Your voice was shaky as you tried not to break eye contact with him, “I love you, EZ.”

There was a small smile on his face, “I love you too.”

You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat against your palm, “I don’t think we’re saying the same thing, Ezekiel, not really.”

“I think we are,” he pulled you in so that his forehead was back to resting against yours, “I love you, Y/N. I love you, and I can’t go another six months before I get to hold you like this again. I love you, and I can’t pretend that phone calls and texts are going to be enough to keep me from missing you after this, because there is no one else out there that makes me feel the way you do. I love you, and the thought of staying with you in this little apartment and building our own world here that no one else gets to touch sounds like my idea of heaven. I love you so much,” his lips landed on yours and you melted into the soft kiss for a few moments before he pulled away, “and I have wanted to do that for so long.”

Tears of joy were gathering in the corners of your eyes as all of the nerves and tension disappeared from your body. You cupped his face with both of your hands and pulled his lips back to yours. He squeezed your body to his and you felt him smiling into your kiss. Your hands rested on the back of his neck as you drank in everything about the moment that you were in.

You pulled back, letting yourself catch your breath, “I’ve wanted you to do that for so long, too.”

He leaned in so that your lips were barely centimeters apart, “I was losing my mind last night, you know,” he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Oh were you?”

He nodded, “Yea. You asked me to help you with your dress and I was about to lose it,” he laughed, “I got so nervous that I was pushing it too far, that you were going to turn around and clock me. But you didn’t.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I didn’t,” you paused, taking a moment to trace your fingers along his jawline, “How’d we go so many years and never do this?”

His fingers were running lightly through your hair, “Never in a million years did I ever think that you would want to be with me like this.”

“You think that I would text and call and video chat you all day every day because that’s just what I do with all of my friends?” you raised an eyebrow, biting back a laugh.

He chuckled, “I guess that’s fair. But in my defense, I tell you all the time to stop assuming that I know what’s going on. It’s very rare that I do.”

You laughed and snuggled into his chest. He rested his chin on top of your head and tightened his arms around your waist. His body heat seeped through the fabric of your clothes and for a few moments you thought to yourself that this feeling of warmth is something you would want even in the sweltering heat of summer. He felt like home.

After a few minutes of content silence, you spoke up again, your voice soft as you lightly dragged your fingers along his bicep, “What now?”

“Want to get dressed and get coffee or something?” he offered up.

You chuckled, “I mean…yea, that sounds nice. But I mean…you know…what now about us?”

He sighed, his hand returning to playing with your hair, “I know that you’re here for work, and I know that you love your job,” he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head before continuing, “And I have the club and Pops back home. And I know it won’t be easy, but I really want to make this work. I think we could do it.”

You smiled into his chest for a moment before tilting your head to look up at him, “Yea?”

He nodded, “Yea. I mean, we made it this long, right?”

“You promise you won’t get sick of me?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “I could never,” he kissed you lightly on the lips. “Besides, now I get to be your plus-one for every day life. Even just for hanging out together here in your apartment. No fancy event necessary.”

You hummed softly in approval, “I like the sound of that.”

“First stop as your new permanent plus-one: that coffee shop you mentioned.”

You laughed, “You’re up for being a human outside this apartment today?”

“Are you?” he looked down at you with raised eyebrows and a smirk on his face.

“I suppose,” you gave his arms a light squeeze, “I won’t hold you hostage. I’ll let you out and about before you have to go home tonight.”

“How about,” he kissed your forehead, “we go out and do things today, and then tomorrow we can spend all day just like this.”

“Tomorrow?”

He nodded, “Yea. The guys can survive without me for another day. I’ll let them know I won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well then what are we waiting for?” you rolled out of bed, grabbing his hand to drag him along with you, “Let’s get ready.”

He chuckled as he swung his legs out from under the covers, feet landing on the hardwood floor, “Do I have to wear my suit?”

You smiled, shaking your head, “No, not this time,” you paused, giving him your puppy-dog eyes, “Can we take the bike?”

He laughed, “You’ve missed that more than you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Not more…but it’s close,” he tossed a pillow at you and you dodged it, not able to contain your laughter, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you leaned down and kissed him on the lips, “I love you.”

He smiled, fingers entwining with yours, “I love you too.”

[nintendousimp]

Train of Thought…

Epilogue: Marry Me, Please?

Previous 👈 Master

Word count: 2,9k

Released date: May 25th, 2021

Warnings: NSFW 18+, language and some grammatical errors.

Disclaimer: All Characters in this story are aged up!

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while now! Life hasn’t been easy and depression came and gave me absolutely no motivation to finish the story until now. So my apologies for posting it so late 😅😅 but now I’m back and I feel ready to write more! So request are now open once again!

With all that being said. Please enjoy the last part of this now completed story! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

It had been two years since Atsumu and y/n parted ways, and yet, He still remembers that day like it was yesterday. The pain he caused his now ex-wife was something he carried with him for the rest of his life. Even though they’re on friendly terms now. The young man knows his decisions caused the woman he once loved to carry her life without him. Time moves fast when the wounds caused by another heal—something Miya had to learn.

The day Atsumu found out about y/n’s relationship with Akaashi, he was sitting outside of the old coffee shop you both used to go to. Scrolling through his social media, he noticed a picture she posted of her and Keiji at what looks to be a carnival. At first, he’d denied that it saddened him, even brought some painful memories of the past. Still, looking at the photo she took, he can tell that her facial expression gives that of a woman deeply in love. That made Atsumu happy, knowing the girl found love once again.

Done with his coffee, Atsumu signals the waiter. As he’s getting ready to pay, he noticed the young woman making her way towards him. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting long,” the woman says.“No, not at all. I just got done with my coffee,” Atsumu says. He approaches the woman and gives her a friendly hug. “Thank you for letting me spend the day with our son. I know this must be hard for you, but I very much appreciated it”, He says as he makes his way towards the stroller to pick up the small infant boy.

At first, the boy gave Atsumu a confused look. His brown eyes focused on the sight of the man holding him. The infant stared at his fathers’ eyes for a while before falling asleep in the young man’s arms. “I wish he’d fall asleep as easily as he does with you,” the woman jokingly said. Atsumu smiled at the woman who took her backpack purse off the stroller. “Got a lot of errands to run?” Atsumu asked as he slowly put the boy back in his stroller.

“Not a lot of errands, but you did remind me that I need to stop by the market and pick up some ingredients I don’t have for dinner,” she said while taking her planner out of her bag to write that down. “ Miya san, do you got any plans for today?” she asked while putting away her planner. “We’re going to spend the day with the team going over last week’s game; after that, Bokuto and Shoyo Kun would like to take the baby to the aquarium,” he says. She handed him the diaper bag while he took the stroller from her.

“I hope you guys have a great time; remember not to let him have too many sweets and don’t let him take too many naps, or else he’ll be fussy,” The woman said as she kissed the sleeping boy on the forehead. She said her goodbyes and headed out to run her errands; meanwhile, Atsumu stood there staring at his son in complete awe. Who would’ve thought that he’d be a father?

A few months after the split, Atsumu got a call from your ex-best friend. He found from her that she was pregnant and gave birth a month or two after the divorce. At first, it took him by surprise. It had been almost a year since he last saw her, let alone heard from her. To drop these kinds of news really took everything in his willpower not to freak out.

As soon as Atsumu got off the phone with the woman. He immediately dropped everything and called his younger brother to let him know of the news. At first, Osamu didn’t know how to react to his older brother’s statement. The younger brother didn’t know whether to be disappointed or happy for his brother. To think the world was punishing Atsumu was an understatement. Osamu never believed that a pregnancy would come out of his brothers’ infidelity; he never thought of his brother as the father-type man; nevertheless, he decided it was better to advise his twin brother to take responsibility and be in his sons’ life.

Even if it was the right thing to take responsibility for his son, Atsumu felt like he’s betrayed y/n once again. She often wished to have his children; he remembers the times she’d get up in the morning to check on her cycle to see if she were ovulating. He also recalled that one time you both went shopping at a mall in Tokyo. He thought he lost the girl that day. He later found her in a baby store, looking at the baby outfits. Atsumu saw the joy in y/ns eyes when she picked out and bought two of the infant outfits.

The whole way home, they both talked about baby names and what future their children would have. She had even joked that his genetics would take over their children, and they’d end up being in love with the volleyball like their father. It made Atsumu so happy to know that she daydreamed about having a family with him. At the time, he would’ve wanted nothing more than to give her the life she wanted with him. He would’ve done anything to have children with her, but dreams can become the worst of nightmares.

The disappointment of finding out you would never become a mother really took a toll on you. You had become so depressed you rarely left the house. It took Atsumu months to get you to agree to do something with your free time. Around that time, you begin to take an interest in writing your book while your husband was out of town for volleyball tournaments. Neither Atsumu nor you noticed that you both had distanced yourselves from the other. You both did however noticed how often you’d get into arguments and days where you’d much rather spend your time working away from home than be in the same room as the other.

That night you didn’t come home was all it took for Atsumu to break the bond that shared your marriage. He knew what he’d done; he cheated on you. Atsumu wasn’t dumb, but he found comfort in her. The nights he spent with her (although it was so wrong of him to do!) were nights he felt loved. Atsumu has always had a talent for reading people. It’s what makes him one of the greatest setters in Japan. Your best friend was no different. He knew that she was falling in love with him. However, he told her many times that she meant nothing to him. He knew as well that he was falling for her too.

To avoid feeling that way, he always made sure to remind her every time after they’d fuck that he’d never leave you and never to think otherwise. He knew what he felt for her was more like a coping mechanism rather than love. It was lust and being loved by another woman, something he became so dependant on.

Even though it’s a thing of the past now, Atsumu is happy being a father. “Yer the one person I love the most, I hope you know that, my mini-me,” he said to his sleepy son. “Let us go meet up with your crazy uncles, or they’ll never leave me alone,” Atsumu said while pushing the stroller onto the sidewalk.

When it came to y/n’s love, Atsumu knew there was no way he’d ever win her back. Especially now that her relationship with Keiji is getting pretty serious. The only good thing from his relationship with your now ex-best friend is the child they now co-parent together. At the end of the day, nothing mattered more to Miya Atsumu than his son.

…

The night Keiji came clean of his feelings for y/n, He remembers he smiled at the fact that she was a blushing mess, like a high school girl getting her first confession. That’s what she reminded him of. It was even more shocking for him to know that the girl reciprocated his feelings back. The happiness she brought him that night was one he wanted to keep experiencing with her for many lifetimes to come.

Later that night, he was driving the girl home from the date. Akaashi remembered she had fallen asleep on the passenger seat. Even though he was focused on the road, Keiji couldn’t stop glancing at her every chance he got. He’d always found y/n so beautiful. To the man, this was a surreal moment. He never thought he’d be in love, let alone his feelings be reciprocated back. With just one look from the girl, the man became foolishly in love with her. Keiji dreaded the drive to her house. Part of him wished the morning would never come. He wanted to keep her, even if it was for just a little longer.

When they arrived at y/n’s place. Keji noticed the girl was still sleeping; seeing how peaceful she looked, he decided it would be best to carry the girl and bring her inside. He got out of his car and walked to the front door. Once he unlocked the door, he returned to his car and opened the passenger door. Akaashi unbuckled the girls’ seat belt while trying not to make too much noise and gently picked her up. He made sure to pull her out of the car without moving her around too much.

He shut the car door and made his way inside y/n’s house. Keiji took the girl straight to the bedroom and laid her on the bed while taking her shoes off. Carefully he pulled the comforter from underneath to cover her up. Tucking a loose strand of hair that previously covered part of her face. He stood there for a bit, admiring how peaceful she looked. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. He got up closer to her ear and whispered, “Can I keep you forever?”

As Akaashi was getting up to leave, he felt the girl’s hand lightly pull on his jacket. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. He blushed at her request. Keiji has spent many nights with y/n. It was usually the nights where they would work on her book or when Bokuto came back from his many trips and wanted to spend time with the both of them. But they never spent the night as a couple. “Please stay with me tonight. I don’t want to fall asleep without you.” Keiji took his jacket off and placed it on her chair. He went to her closet and took out a pair of black shorts and his old volleyball T-shirt from years ago.

While Keiji was changing out his clothes, the girl was slowly drifting back to sleep. Before that could happen, Y/n got up from under the covers and went to get changed into more comfortable clothes. She went back to the room and found Keiji was already under the covers, reading a book he found on her bookshelf. “Ready for bed, sleepyhead?” The girl nodded as she walked towards the bed. Once she was inside the covers, y/n consciously moved closer to Keiji to feel his warmth. He found a stopping point and placed the book on the nightstand next to him.

As she made herself comfortable, y/n was fast asleep; or so Keiji thought. He felt his eyes get heavy. As he was falling asleep,y/n got up close to his ear and responded with, “I’m already yours, Keiji.” She kissed the man on the cheek. The girl laid down and went back to sleep. What y/n didn’t know was that Akaashi heard everything but was too embarrassed to say anything back. He couldn’t believe that she listened to what he said to her. He pulled her closer to him and fell back asleep. After that night, the man knew that he wanted to marry the woman sleeping right next to him.

…

A few years have passed since Akaashi confessed his love to Y/n. As of now, a lot of things have changed. A year and a half ago, before things started to get serious. Keiji had asked the girl to move in with him.

The woman looked at him, shocked. “Did you causally just ask me to move in with you, Keiji?” The man looked up from his computer and said, “yes,” and continued back to typing. The girl couldn’t help blush at how honest and causal Keiji became around her. Over the years they’ve been together, the woman noticed how Keiji loosened up around her quite a lot. He became more affectionate physically and would call y/n cute pet names like my love or darling.

When Keiji went out of town for important meetings, he always made sure to send y/n her favorite flowers to let her know he’s thinking of her. To say that she hadn’t thought about moving in with Keiji would be a complete lie. y/n wanted nothing more than to live with the man she loves, but her mind kept wandering back to the time she and Atsumu lived together. It made her realized she’s been living on her own for quite some time. It made sense to moving in together, but why couldn’t she tell him yes already?

By now, Keiji felt the room go silent. He got up from his chair and walked to the sofa, and sat next to the girl. Placing his large hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry for suggesting us moving in together. I should’ve known it was too soon.” He said. “I want nothing more than for us to live under the same roof finally. But are you sure you want this Akaashi?” y/n asked. She reached to grab his face. It didn’t even take him a second for him to lean into her touch.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure, my love. It wouldn’t make much of a difference since a lot of your stuff is already at my place.” The girl chuckled at the man’s comment. She pulled his right arm and leaned her face on his large hand. Keiji rubbed circles on her cheek as she stared lovingly into his eyes. “Let’s move the rest of my stuff this weekend. I’ll ask Bo and Omi if they can help out.” He got up from the sofa and pulled y/n up with him for a hug.

He didn’t need to say anything to the girl. She knew how he felt. Keiji couldn’t hide the happiness he felt that night when you agreed to live together. That weekend, Bokuto and part of the MSBY team came and helped get y/n moved into Akaashi’s place. It took her a week to unpack and organize all her belongings.

Living under the same roof took a little to get used to. Not once did Keiji regret his decision to live with y/n. Every day started and ended with her. The number of memories they built over the years they’ve been together as a couple made Akaashi realized he wanted to grow old with this girl.

…

The day their anniversary came. Keiji planned to take y/n to the ocean, where they had their first date. When they arrived, Akaashi found the spot where they had their picnic. He placed the blanket on the ground and signaled the girl to sit down with him. He puts the basket in between them, opens it, and hands her an onigiri. She thanked him for the food as she took a massive bite out of it. He poured sake into one of the cups he brought and gave the drink to the girl. They both ate and drank and conversed for a while.

Once finished with their food. Keiji and Y/n sat in comfortable silence. Watching the sky fill up with stars while listening to the ocean waves. He couldn’t have planned a more perfect date. He glanced at the girl who was still distracted looking at the stars and quickly pulled out the small velvety box from his jacket pocket. He set the picnic basket to the side and moved closer to where y/n was sitting.

Y/n laid her head on Akaashi’s shoulder without taking her eyes away from the view. He kissed the top of her head and rested his head on top of hers. Half an hour went by; Keiji got up from sitting on the ground and pulled the girl up with him. As she was stared into view of the ocean, He got down on one knee and took out the ring from the velvet box.

“Hey, Y/n?” Akaashi asked.

“Yes, Keiji?” she asked as she turns to look down in shock at Keiji, who was on one knee, holding an engagement ring in one hand.

“Marry me, please?”

…

And with that concludes Train of Thought! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I was beyond static to receive so much positive feedback and I truly appreciated!

Summary:

L/N Y/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve  been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?

© All fiction rights of the story belong to @nintendousimp​

Characters belong to Haruichi Furudate.

Taglist: @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that , @brnda7rdrgz , @tsukkiswifeey

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Edgejeanist fluff, with their daughter, just having a lovely adorable time!

Gonna tag @ohpleaseiwillendyou @theshisthings @kiriderp and @kure-san because idk, I wanna give you some fluff and thought you guys might wanna see this? ❤️

No warnings! It’s fluff for once, but it’s actually pretty long so ->

I haven’t written fluff for a while (since my edgeshot birthday ramble, I think) and I think that you guys deserve some. Also, it’s based off of the introduction to my angst I was writing, and I just felt that I’d give you an alternate plot and ending than the one in that 👀

——————————————————

Shinya blinked at the light that his phone was emitting as he checked the time.

6:59am- no, 7:00am. He let out a small sigh and turned over to face the sleeping figure beside him. Tsunagu’s face looked so calm and still, and Shinya couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful he seemed in that moment. His husband was always so tense and stressed out from work, but in these rare moments, it made him oh so happy to see him finally relax.

Watching as his partner’s chest moved up and down slowly, he sighed and leaned forward to place a very gentle kiss on his forehead, sweeping the other’s blond hair out of his face slightly as he did so.

Tsunagu instinctively went to hug this source of heat closer to his body and Shinya ended up having to try (but fail) to awkwardly pry himself out of his grasp, their cheeks smushed together as the lanky blond hugged him tighter. His breath brushed across Shinya’s ear, causing him to chuckle slightly. No matter how long they could’ve been together, Shinya still found himself blush a bit at the sight of his adorable lanky husband, who was now pouting due to the lack of things to cuddle...maybe he was just having a cuddly dream...

Shinya slid carefully out of the warmth of the duvets and Tsunagu’s comforting embrace and stood up, shivering as the cold morning air hit his skin. Wow it was chilly, and he noticed the other man curl up at the lack of warmth and huff in a sleepy dismay.

“Why do I have to go to work today?” Shinya grumbled to himself as he stumbled silently into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Surely, it didn’t have to be today....of all days? There’s no emergency calls so far, no urgent upcoming missions, Shinji and Yuu are both working today anyway.......and the only thing I’d be doing is patrol.....”

He trailed off, thinking as much as his fatigued brain would let him as he slipped out of his clothes and into the shower. ‘Maybe if I....’

———————————

Tsunagu woke up to the soft sound of his husband’s humming, masked ever so slightly by the sound of the running water of the shower. He blinked slowly as he tried to get his eyes to open, wincing at the sudden brightness of the room and pulling the bedsheets over his shoulders to warm himself up.

He glanced over at Shinya’s phone and watched as it buzzed across the table, showing the time and a couple of new unread messages.

‘7:30. Hm. It’s early.’ He thought as he reached out to move Shinya’s phone to the middle of the bedside table, to stop it from falling off from the constant stream of notifications. He turned back around to face the bathroom door and yawned loudly, listening out for the sudden silence and little taps of Shinya’s feet as he stops the shower and dries himself off.

The bathroom door opened with a little click and the silver haired man emerged from the now rather steamy room, wrapped in a long fluffy jumper and shorts. Toothbrush in hand, he ruffled his long wet hair with a small towel and turned to face the lanky figure that was now sitting up on the bed, smiling tiredly.

“Good morning!” Tsunagu called out brightly, well, as brightly as one could at 7:36 in the morning.

“Ah!” Shinya fumbled around for the toothbrush that slipped out of his hand in shock, startled by the blond man that was laughing at him from across the room. “You’re awake! Already? It’s so early, you didn’t need to be up! It’s....it’s, um, the time....”

“7:37am, dear.” Tsunagu interrupted informatively.

Shinya blinked, taking a second before he actually registered what the other had said, before trying to remember the point he was trying to make. “Yes! 7:37! Exactly. Early. Uh-huh, yes.”

Tsunagu chuckled and shook his head as he listened to his small husband try and rant about him waking up ‘too early’.

“Oi, don’ ‘augh ah ee!” (‘Oi, don’t laugh at me!’)Shinya huffed as he stood there brushing his teeth, putting off the fact that he needed to also get changed before work.

“Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. You might want to repeat that~” Tsunagu teased, his smile shifting into his usual characteristic smirk as he watched his partner glare at him with revenge in his eyes.

Shinya finished brushing his teeth and stood silently next to the older man, looming ominously as he decided his fate. Tsunagu realised his mistake and quickly regretted it when he noticed Shinya’s hands move very slowly out of his pockets.

Shinya gently but quickly jabbed the taller mans sides and smiled evilly at the harmless panic that he’d caused. He watched as his husband wriggled around,bursting out laughing at the sudden tickle attack.

“I said, don’t laugh at me. Or else you’ll pay the consequences.” He said in a mockingly formal manner.

“Okay- ahahokay, oka- okay! I get, ahaha, I get it! Please, stop- ahaha I’m sorry!!” Tsunagu barely managed to stutter out between laughs.

After surrendering to the tiny ninja, Tsunagu sighed and sat back up, shaking his head to move his hair out of his eyes. “Anyway, you got some messages. They might be important.”

“Oh, really? Who by?” Shinya moved to go and check his phone.

“I think you overestimate my eyesight and attention to detail at this time of day.”

“Oh come on, you could’ve at least read the name of- oh it’s Shinji.”

“Mhm. Anything important, or just a normal text before work?” Tsunagu inquired, pouting slightly at the idea of Shinya having to go to work today. Why couldn’t he just have the day off?

“Hm. Yeah.” Shinya briefly replied, taking in the message with a smile and feeling his shoulders relax a little bit more at the words that he’d just read. Well that was good, amazing even. What a brilliant idea!

Tsunagu looked at his husband blankly before giving a sarcastic reply. “Wow. Well that was informative....”

Shinya blinked at his phone before putting it down and changing into some clean clothes.

Tsunagu looked down at his phone as a slight hope for some explanation or context to what Shinya was so happy about, but shook his head as he yawned again. “Well, have you checked on Izumi? Is she awake yet?”

“Ah, no I haven’t. She is probably awake by now though.” Shinya replied, pulling a blue t-shirt over his head and giving his head a slight shake to get his hair out of it.

Tsunagu hummed in agreement and stretched his arms out, looking towards the open bedroom door in anticipation, and soon enough he heard exactly what he was waiting for.

Tiny but rapid footsteps could be heard thumping lightly against the carpet as they grew nearer to where the two tired pro heroes were, making them share a soft smile as they both turn towards the sound.

“Good morning, Papa!!!” The small bundle of energy yelled as she came bursting into the room and flew straight into Shinya’s open arms.

“Woah!! You’re up early today, petal! I thought you said you were gonna have a ‘nice sleepy morning’!” Shinya laughed as he spun Izumi around, making her giggle in excitement.

Izumi smiled innocently and leaned backwards in her father’s arms, her relatively short hair (that was a lighter shade of grey than Shinya’s) all ruffled and tangled.

“Well,” she pouted slightly, “I woke up and- and I was sleepy, and then I felt fidgety so...so I sat there for a little bit, because, cos I didn’t wanna wake you! But then I heard you and dad talking...and so, so you are awake!! So I wanted to see you before you go to work!!”

“Oh, oh I see! Well I guess we’re all awake now!” Shinya reacted in an over exaggerated manner, ruffling Izumi’s hair even more and placing her on the edge of the bed earning a few more giggles from the happy child.

Izumi looked down at her hands and thought for a moment.

“Papa?”

“Hm? What is it, petal?”

“Do...do you have to go to work today?”

Shinya looked up at Izumi and saw big teal eyes staring back at him. Ouch. He peeked over their daughter’s shoulder to share an awkward hesitant silence with his husband, who was still bundled up in half of the duvet cover, before taking Izumi’s hands in his own.

“Oh ‘zumi........I’m afraid so, petal, but I tell you what,” Shinya motioned for her to get closer and whispered a short message in her ear, causing her face to light up again and making her look excited.

“And,” he made the last part a little louder so that Tsunagu could hear him, “go tackle Dad for me, will ya? He won’t know what hit him!”

Tsunagu smiled in amusement and started to act dramatically in front of his daughter.

“Oh! How tragic! Not even a single ‘good morning’ for me, what sadness is this!” The dramatic blond paused momentarily to peek at his daughters reaction, watching as she snuck closer with a mischievous look on her face. “Have I become invisible?! My own daughter not even giving me a single cuddle- oh nO! I must have been forgotten! Oh poor old me, poor poor little me-”

The lanky noodle’s theatrical performance was interrupted by a enthusiastic hug and a rather loud “Good morning, dad!!!!” and a lot of laughter.

“Augh! Good morning, sunshine!! What a surprise!! You’ve caught me, oh nooooo...” Tsunagu rolled off the edge of the bed in defeat before pulling Izumi into a big hug.

“Ahaha yay!! I got you, I got you!!” The light haired girl exclaimed excitedly.

Tsunagu fixed his hair slightly with a small chuckle. “Yes you did!!! Good job, ‘zumi, how did you sleep?”

“Hm. Good! I had a funny dream, can I tell you?!”

“Of course, sunshine, but maybe after we’ve all woken up first!”

“Okay!”

They all headed downstairs, Tsunagu and Izumi both wrapped in matching fluffy pyjamas as they sat around the living room chatting and giggling. They just wanted to spend as much time as they could together. That’s all. They were just as happy as they could be, talking and playing around as they waited for it to be the time where Shinya had to go to work.

—————————

Their playful mood was cut short by the sound of Shinya’s phone beeping, signalling the time.

“Ah.”

Shinya looked down at the time. 8:00am. Time for work.

Sighing, he looked over to see his husband and daughter pouting with almost identical faces, looking sad and down. ‘And people wonder if they look alike, huh? No no...she is definitely his daughter! Just look at that face!’ He thought to himself, never getting over how much Izumi looked like them both, especially Tsunagu (in his eyes, that is)....and how adorable they both were.

“Well, I guess I better head off then...” Shinya said, trying his best not to dishearten the other two, who were staring up at him with big, round puppy eyes. “Don’t get into too much trouble!”

“Which one of us?” Tsunagu inquired curiously.

“You of course! You know our little petal is always innocent!” He poked his tongue out at his lanky husband and gave his daughter a small wink.

“Haha yeah, okay.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Shinya asked the small child that was now approaching him for a cuddle before he walked out the door. “I’m putting you in charge for today!”

He gently flicked her nose, making her giggle in surprise, before burying her head deeper into the softness of his mother’s - her grandmother’s - scarf.

Tsunagu walked over quietly, noticing a suspicious glint in his husbands eyes. Hm. That’s never a good sign, especially with Shinya’s pranking antics. He seemed way too happy to be ‘going to work’, not to mention the texts this morning and the fact that he wasn’t leaving in his uniform like usual....it wasn’t anything bad! His instincts reassured him for that part, but still, it was a hint at some mischief and he was unsure as to whether he’d like it.

But he dismissed these curiosities and went to embrace his tiny husband, who still had an excitable child wrapped around his neck.

“Have a good day....stay safe...” Tsunagu mumbled quietly to the other, planting a small kiss on his cheek and touching their foreheads together in a gentle, familiar manner.

“Of course.” Shinya replied distantly, thinking about what he had planned for the day. “See you in a bit!”

“Bye Papa!!” Izumi waved, holding onto Tsunagu’s leg as she swayed back and forth.

“See you later!” Tsunagu called out, placing his hand on his daughters head as they watched the ninja turn the comer and glide away.

After a short silence, Tsunagu decided that he should start their fun day off and entertain his tiny daughter to the best of his ability, without Shinya there to ruin his plans with his pranks.

“Hey, sunshine...” he slyly poked the top of his daughter’s head.

“Yes, Dad?” Izumi looked up curiously.

“....you wanna make some pancakes?”

Izumi’s face lit up and she expressed her joy through a vigorous little dance.

“PANCAKES!!!”

——————————

After about an hour of very messy pancake making, they finally managed to make a batch that didn’t taste like burnt oranges, or have the texture of an over cooked rubber duck. (He can cook, but it’s a bit difficult when you’re trying to cook with the daughter of a particular prankster of a ninja....)

Rubbing the back of his head, Tsunagu looked back at his daughter with a smile, watching as she swung her legs back and forwards in delight as she munched on her breakfast. Her hair was now bunched into two cute little pigtails (you don’t think, of all people, Best Jeanist would let his daughter have messy hair all day? Haha no way.) and she looked up at her dad briefly, making a silly face in return.

Tsunagu let out a small laugh. “You little ball of sunshine, you! Are they nice? Did your good ol’ dad do a good job this time? I sure hope they don’t still taste like smelly socks!” He joked around, poking his daughters cheek softly.

“Mhm! Of course they’re good!” Izumi replied, her mouth still very full with pancake and her eyes sparkling happily.

“Oh good, I’m glad!” Tsunagu ruffled her hair in response and headed to the kitchen to clean up everything. “Right...what a mess...”

Using his quirk to pull all of the clean mugs and utensils around using the threads that he wove around each of them, he swiftly began to tidy up - his mind drifting slightly, wondering about what his husband could be up to at the moment.

Meanwhile, Izumi had been a little distracted by a ‘mysterious shiny string’...leading her to wander around to find something....

——————————————

After dealing with the mess that was cluttering the kitchen, Tsunagu walked back into the living room to find that Izumi wasn’t sitting there.

“Sunshine?” He called out a couple of times, peeking round some of the doors to try and find his tiny daughter. “Sunshine, where’d you go?”

‘Maybe she’s outside?’ He reassured himself. He’d always been the more paranoid person, and becoming a parent of a child with not only a very very tricky quirk, but also the daughter (and ‘apprentice’) of a very mischievous ninja, did not help at all.

As he went to check, he noticed a small piece of string poking out from the door and hesitantly picked it up, only to notice that it was attached to a small note...which was attached to a much longer piece of string...leading outside.

He read the note and wondered slightly at the familiarity of the handwriting, before following the string to wherever it led.

‘I know you are probably wondering where Izumi is. Don’t worry too much, just follow the string, I’m sure your hunch will tell you all you need to know.

P.s. she is very happy and excited, hurry up you lanky bean.’

Before long, the lanky french fry had reached a small field with a couple of trees dotted around the edges. ‘Oh, I know where this is! Shinya and I used to have little picnic dates here, how cute.’ Tsunagu reminisced happily, still worried as to where his daughter was.

“‘zumi? Izumi?? Hello~ Izumi Kamihara? Sunshine, where are you??” He called out, trying to mask his concern.

“Dad!” A small voice called out from behind a tree and was followed by a series of giggles as the small girl poked her head out to face her worried parent.

“Oh! There you are! I was worried!!” Tsunagu rushed over and scooped his daughter up into his own embrace, spinning her around slightly as he did so.

A light tap was felt on his shoulder and he turned his head rapidly to try and find out what it was, only to be very pleasantly surprised by the face that was hovering in front of his.

“Hello, love!” A certain silver-haired man greeted the confused noodle with his familiar smile. “Sorry for the little surprise!”

“Ah, wha...” Tsunagu started to question.

Shinya laughed, leaning in to peck Tsunagu’s nose, before cupping the puzzled man’s face and kissing him - still laughing at the other’s stumped expression.

“Haha! Oh that’s priceless, you should’ve seen your face! Did ya get that, petal? Wasn’t that funny?” Shinya turned towards Izumi, who had somehow gotten hold of multiple phones and had taken several pictures of her dad’s baffled face. Ah. Blackmail.

“Hahaha!! Papa was right, dad, your face is so funny ahaha!!” The lighter haired child snickered at Tsunagu’s dismay.

“Wh- what is going on? I’m so confused...” Tsunagu questioned as Shinya took his hand in his own and led him to a quiet spot by the river, swinging Izumi with his other arm.

“Well, Shinji messaged this morning, yes? And he said that, since we’ve got no urgent missions today, both him and Yuu decided to do patrol and take care of things by themselves.” Shinya explained, motioning for the other to watch his head on an overhanging branch. “And well....since both of you are off today....and we never get to spend time as a whole family...they just thought that it would be nice to, you know, take a day off.”

Tsunagu sighed as he watched his husband smile gently. He’d always been such a workaholic and never really liked to take days off, though it’s always been obvious when he needed one, and deep down wished for more time with his family.

It’s pretty self-explanatory, but Shinya always, always wanted as much time as he could get to spend with his loved ones, and having a family that was finally with him, and was always there for him to come home to....it was like a dream to him....a dream that he never ever wanted to wake from.

“I see. Well, how nice of them!”

Shinya hummed in agreement. “Yeah....how nice....I’m so glad, I get time to spend with you both.”

Izumi looked up and saw her parents smiling softly at each others words and smiled happily to herself. ‘So exciting!! Time with papa and dad!! We can all be happy and eat food and relax!’

As they reached their destination, Tsunagu gasped at what he saw. There was a small blanket spread across the leaves, sitting next to a stream. On top of the blanket, was multiple snacks and drinks and some little trinkets and items for Izumi to play with.

Izumi squealed happily and immediately ran over to sit on the blanket, picking up one of the small puzzle boxes and giving it a gentle shake. Shinya smiled at her excitement and turned around to face his husband, who looked just as relaxed as he was, for once.

“D’ya like it?”

Tsunagu looked to be deep in thought for a moment before rushing forward and sweeping Shinya off of his feet and taking him into his arms, spinning his tiny husband around and pressing their foreheads together as they both laughed.

“Oh I love it, darling! You a never fail to surprise me, even after all these years!” Tsunagu exclaimed, kissing the other blissfully before setting him back down. “Shinya Kamihara, the man who never fails to make his family happy and proud!”

Shinya blushed at the lanky blond’s flattering words and reached down to ruffle Izumi’s hair. “I-I just thought it would be a nice little surprise, y’know, that it would make you and Izumi happy.”

“Well that it definitely did!” Tsunagu chuckled and embraced the younger man yet again. “Although...I’m still a bit confused as to why you still left the house this morning?”

Shinya let out a small sigh and reached down to pick up a couple of bags that were resting on the picnic blanket. “I decided to get lunch! I knew that I didn’t have to go to work, so instead I went out and bought a few things.”

The taller man hummed inquisitively. “What did you get?”

“Well first I got some meat buns, because we haven’t had any for a while. I also got donuts for our little petal,” the ninja paused, looking down at their daughter’s even more cheerful face looking back up at them, before continuing, “I got noodles for me and some sushi from that shop around the corner that we like because you said the other day that you wanted sushi!”

Tsunagu looked ecstatic as he sat down next to his daughter and pulled his husband down with him into a massive hug. “Oh Shinya, love, you really are the best!”

“Yeah papa’s the best! Papa’s amazing!” Izumi chirped cheerfully.

“You are very right with that, sunshine” Tsunagu laughed.

“Oh you two....” Shinya bashfully looked down before giving them both a loving little shake. “Thank you, petal, you little sweetheart. And you, love, stop being so sappy - it’s almost as bad as your puns.”

“Hey! They’re not that bad!”

“Uh-huh, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“....you’re lucky I love you...”

Shinya snorted and picked up a couple of meat buns, shoving one into Tsunagu’s face to stop him from talking and nibbling on the other himself. The tall blond pouted at this gesture but sighed as he saw how amused their tiny daughter was.

Looking at them both, he smiled and nuzzled his face into the tops of their heads lovingly. They were all so happy, and thats exactly how it should be.

“What a lovely day!”

[hedwigstalons]

SpaceBears - Taking The Plunge

These two have taken up residence in my head and made themselves comfortable.  Far too comfortable.  

This story takes place the day after ‘In the Beginning’ (here) but I think I’ve managed to write it so it still makes sense without reading the original.  It probably helps to know that it takes place the day after Alan and Brandon hook up.

This instalment sticks to a T rating and that’s only really for some language from Gordon *rolls eyes at the aquanaut and his sailor talk*

If you prefer to read on AO3 you can do so here

Thank you to @willow-salix who checked my ramblings despite her own punishing upload schedule - go check out her stuff, she has put out some amazing chapters this week.

xoxoxox

Alan woke to find a heavy arm flung over him and warmth pressed against his back, gentle breaths tickling his neck.  This wasn’t a completely unheard of experience if either he or a brother had dealt with a particularly traumatic rescue; sometimes being the baby of the family had its advantages and he wasn’t too proud to seek out familial comfort to dispel the nightmares.  The difference this time was that neither the room he was in, nor the arm across him, belonged to a brother.  Memories of the day before penetrated through the heavy fog of morning and brought with it understanding.  

Brandon.  The Expo.  The kiss.  Many kisses.  And now here they were, curled up together after falling asleep in front of a movie.

The man behind him was evidently already awake and his stirrings had alerted him to his return to consciousness.  

“Morning rocket boy.  Any chance I can get my other arm back?”

The limb draped across him was removed and Alan rolled away, allowing him to both free the arm underneath him and to face his bed companion who was now flexing his fingers painfully as the blood flowed back.

“Sorry, you should have woken me,” he apologised with concern in his eyes.

“Nah, I figured you guys have to catch sleep when you can.  I’ll live.”  Alan was treated to a soft grin as Brandon massaged life back into his arm.  

Finally satisfied that he had escaped pins and needles Brandon shuffled closer to close the gap between them.  He reached out and rested one hand on Alan’s exposed waist where his t-shirt had rucked up and propped  himself up on the other elbow.

Alan felt a warm glow spread through him at the touch and he returned the smile.  Brandon’s hair, messy from sleep, was sticking out at all angles in untidy curls and Alan gently brushed back a stray lock that threatened to fall into Brandon’s eyes.  Yesterday morning this moment would have been unthinkable, the thought of touching Brandon in this way confined to his secret dreams.  To find out the feeling was mutual had been a surprising, yet welcome, revelation.

“Guess we’re giving this a go, huh?”

“Guess so.”  Brandon tilted his head and lowered it, pulling Alan towards him as he kissed his sleepyhead...boyfriend?  He guessed that was the right term now.   It certainly felt right.  Yesterday still felt a bit unreal but here he was, in Alan’s bed, actually getting to kiss the blonde who had been increasingly in his thoughts.  

“I’m sorry about my brothers last night,” Alan muttered sheepishly once Brandon’s warm lips left his, “they can be a bit full on.”  

“S’only ‘cos they care about you.”  

There was something in Brandon’s eyes that Alan couldn’t quite name.  Envy?  Longing?  He wasn’t too sure but the bleeping of his comm put paid to further musings.  He groaned and rolled reluctantly away, sitting up to pick up the device that he knew wouldn’t go quiet until he answered it.

“What’s up, Gords?” he answered wearily as the grinning visage of his brother smirked at him in holographic form.

“Getting a little distracted there?”  The waggling eyebrows left no illusions as to what Gordon could be referring to.

“Look, is this important or did you just drop in to check up on me?” he snapped.  The last thing he needed was yet another brother butting in on his life, it had been bad enough having to listen to Scott and Virgil spell out the rules for his new relationship.

“Hey, relax.  Just reminding you that you’re meant to log your mile time in the pool this morning.  I know Brandon isn’t due to leave yet but you’re back on duty and Scott is still storming round like a thundercloud.  Best not give him anything else to grump over.”

“Sorry, guess I’m just still a bit on edge.”

“Scott and Virg give you a hard time last night?” there was a softening of attitude from Gordon; he knew exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of a lecture and it was rarely a fun experience.

“Something like that.  Look, gimme 5 minutes and I’ll be there.”

“FAB,” Gordon cut the comm connection and winked out of existence.

Alan turned back to Brandon and found himself apologising yet again.  “Sorry, I only got yesterday off.  I wasn’t really anticipating any of this happening,” he gestured at the rumpled sheets, “or I’d have tried to get more time.  It won’t take me long to do my swim but Gordon’s right, I need to get out there, the last thing I need is another lecture.  Hey, you should come swim too.”

“Uh, I didn’t bring any stuff.”

“That’s okay.  I’ll just comm Gordon and you can borrow some of his, he won’t mind and it’ll feel better than a shower.”

Brandon was definitely feeling in need of something to freshen up, while he and Alan had made it under the covers at some point during the night they were both still in their clothes from the day before.  He really wasn’t keen on the idea of hitting the pool but before he could protest Alan had already called up Gordon and made arrangements for him to borrow something suitable.

Now that he had a deadline Alan was a bundle of energy.  It surprised Brandon just how quickly Alan could go from sleepy and smudgy eyed to alert and bouncing but he guessed years of answering  emergency calls at all times of the day and night had trained the astronaut to immediate wakefulness when required.  In just a few short minutes Alan was ready, clad in swim shorts with a towel slung round his neck, leaving Brandon no option but to follow him to Gordon’s room.  

They knocked and a cheery voice bade them come in.  Gordon had beaten them to it and was already rummaging through his closet for something for Brandon to wear, the two of them were of a similar size and Brandon had no doubt the proffered board shorts would fit.  He supposed he had to be grateful that Gordon hadn’t tried to kit him out in some of the many tiny speedos he knew the aquanaut owned but he still took the shorts only reluctantly.  He sighed and headed off to his guest room to get changed and grab a towel.  

xoxoxox

Once they were alone Gordon rounded on Alan, smirking.

“So, you and Brandon.  How long have you been hiding this from us all?  You do realise you’re probably the only one of us seeing any action at the moment.”

“I haven’t been hiding anything.  Until yesterday I didn’t even know he liked me like that.”  Alan could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.  He should have known he wouldn’t have been able to escape a grilling from Gordon and being alone in the aquanaut’s room left him wide open.  He was sorely tempted to just leave and head to the pool but knew he’d only get the suggestive remarks in a more public space.  And anyway, Gordon had managed to place himself in the way of the door, cutting off his escape route.

“And you’ve already got Scott having kittens over it, I swear he thinks you’re still twelve sometimes.  Only yesterday, huh?  I know Brandon didn’t go back to the guest room last night; quick work there, Al.  Maybe Scott is right to worry about you after all, you dark horse.”  The smirk was joined by more wiggling eyebrows, eliciting a groan from Alan.

“Nothing happened, alright.”  Now he was seriously blushing.  At least Gordon wasn’t treating him like some kid to be wrapped in cotton wool, if anything he was overestimating things.    “Scott caught us making out, that’s all.  And later we just watched some movies.”

“If you say so.”  There was a shrug that suggested Gordon wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I do say so.”

Alan threw himself back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.  This was all so new to him but evidently his brothers had convinced themselves that he and Brandon were already screwing around.  In reality though he was pretty apprehensive about the whole idea.  He took a deep breath, hoping Gordon wouldn’t laugh at him.

“Um, so what’s it like?  You know...with a guy?”

Gordon was caught off guard, the nervous quaver to the voice showed just how much this was eating away at Alan, while the question itself made him realise Alan had been serious that nothing had happened the night before.  Theirs was a fairly open household so he was surprised at Alan’s hesitance to ask, but, on reflection, he probably would have been nervous too if he’d gone to an older brother for advice.  Sensing this wasn’t a time for jokes and teasing he sat down near Alan’s feet. 

“Aw, man.”  The responsibility weighed heavy on Gordon and he brushed his fingers back through his hair, wondering where to begin.  If he’d bothered to think about it he would have assumed Aan would have gone to one of the other brothers, any of the other brothers, except him.  But then he realised a lot of his preconceptions had been wrong. 

 He’d always pegged Alan as a junior hybrid of John and Scott and with that came the false assumption that his little brother would eventually be seeking advice about girls, not that he was inexperienced there either, mind you.  But Brandon?  Brandon had been a surprise.  He took a deep breath.

“Well, for a start don’t believe everything you see on the internet.  You don’t need to go copying that shit; some of it’s okay for a bit of casual viewing but it’s not how you want to build a relationship.”

Alan sat up with a jolt, wrapping his arms around drawn up knees and staring at Gordon with wide eyed horror.  “You do know John monitors our internet use, don’t you?”

Gordon rolled his eyes indulgently.  “The Eye-In-The-Sky isn’t going to have a watchalong with you if that’s what you’re worried about, and judging from the fact we are even having this conversation about guys says to me your tastes run a little differently to his.  Unless you start looking at something illegal he’s not going to go telling Scott what you choose to jack off to.”

Alan was severely regretting entering into this conversation.  He knew they were all adults but he didn’t really want to be contemplating his brothers’ downtime viewing habits, the whole idea made him a little nauseous.  Sure there had been a little self-exploration but the fantasies had been firmly within his head with his web based activities restricted to the gaming world.  “So, no copying porn.  Got it,” he squeaked.  “Any other pearls of wisdom?” 

“Relax, Alan,” he could tell his brother was getting seriously worked up over the whole affair,  “you’re eighteen, no one is expecting you to be experienced at this stuff and there’s no rush either.  I think Virgil was at least 20 before he started dating seriously.”

“Yeah, well that’s Virgil.  I was asking you.”

“Uh, I’m probably not the greatest example to follow.”  Alan shot him a curious look and Gordon sighed.  “Swim squad wasn’t always the healthiest of places to be, there was a lot of peer pressure and trying to fit in.  I did some things I’m not proud of and as first experiences went, it sucked.  If Brandon’s a decent guy he’ll be happy to wait.”  The memories of changing room fumbles, post-competition hedonism and squad initiations returned in a flood, some good, some bad.  “Hang on, has he been trying to get you to do stuff you don’t want?”  

Gordon’s eyes blazed and Alan was suddenly reminded that, while he may not be as smothering as Scott, Gordon was still a very protective older brother.

“Jeez, Gords no, no he hasn’t,” he placated.  “Brandon’s been fine about it.  I know his reputation in the media is a little...colourful, but he hasn’t been like that with me at all.”

“Good.”  The menacing flare subsided.  “Look, Al, there’s really no need to rush into things.  I’m guessing Virg gave you the ground rules,” he waited until Alan nodded. “Well, listen to your body and listen to each other and it’ll be fine.  And as for what it’s like, well, when it’s good it can be fantastic but that’s no reason to leap in before you’re ready and there might be  some things you never want to try.  There’s more to a good relationship than just bouncing about in the bedroom y’know.  If Brandon’s one of the decent ones he’ll respect that and if he’s not, well, you deserve better.  But it goes both ways too and we all know better than to believe everything we see in the media; just because Brandon’s more experienced than you doesn’t mean he’s going to be up for everything either.”  

Alan nodded.  Gordon spoke a lot of sense and while he was still a bit worried about making a fool of himself he felt a lot more confident than before.  So what if he was a little naive about these things, he and Brandon were friends first and he certainly hadn’t felt pressured last night.

His mind wandered back to the previous night.  Brandon’s tongue warm in his mouth, teasing, exploring, hands tangled in hair, their bodies pressed close.  Then after dinner things had taken a gentler turn, both of them worn out from their long day at the Expo and the emotional rollercoaster they had been on.  A dreamy half-smile played on his lips and his eyes glazed slightly.

“Uh, Earth to Alan?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon lover boy, save the daydreams for later.  Best get you into that pool or Scott will be hunting us both down.”

Xoxoxox

By the time Brandon made it down to the communal areas of the villa Alan was already several laps into his mile.  Gordon was sitting at a picnic table, stopwatch in hand, keeping track of the numbers.  The great glass doors at the front of the kitchen had been opened wide, inviting him out into the sunshine, but he hovered on the threshold, reluctant to step out into the tropical sun and feeling very exposed in his borrowed shorts.

“Hey, Brandon,” Gordon called out when he spotted him, “ol’ slowcoach is going to be at least another fifteen minutes.  Feel free to raid the fridge.”

Brandon retreated into the kitchen, rolling his eyes slightly at the “and grab me some apple juice while you’re there” that was shouted at his departing back but feeling grateful that Gordon didn’t seem to be treating him any differently to usual.  

He was quite grateful the oldest two siblings were nowhere in sight although the sound of the piano drifting down the stairs from above suggested that at least Virgil was in the lounge.  He hoped he stayed up there.  He knew the brothers only had Alan’s best interests at heart but he hadn’t liked being in the spotlight; it was one thing to be the centre of attention on his vlog but quite another to be under the steely gaze of the commander of International Rescue and his equally intimidating second.  He took his time pouring out two glasses of chilled juice and carried them out onto the patio, settling himself on the bench next to the aquanaut.

“How come he’s got to do this swim, I thought you were the one who did the water stuff?” Brandon asked as he watched Alan reach the far end of the pool, do a quick tumble turn then start cleaving through the water back towards them.  Despite Gordon’s criticism the pace looked far from slow to him.

“We’ve all gotta be able to cover for each other and a fat lot of good we would be if we couldn’t swim well.  I make ‘em all do a timed mile once a month to check they’re staying in shape.”  

“Doesn't Scott set the training?”  

“Some of it, but he trusts us to know our own areas best.  Two laps left!”  This last remark was shouted out to Alan who had just reached their end of the pool again.

Gordon picked up the stopwatch and made his way to the edge of the deck ready to record the moment Alan touched the wall for the final time.  Brandon drained his juice and followed, he didn’t have a clue what constituted a good time but he was still keen to see how Alan had done.  The pair stood looking out over the water as Alan tried to put on a burst of speed to the finish.  

“How’d I do?” the voice that floated up from beneath them sounded faintly out of breath.  

“47 seconds slower than last month but you’re still coming in quicker than Virgil.”

A snort.  “Well that’s not hard, he’s not exactly streamlined.  And don’t you dare tell him I said that!”

“Yeah, well, now you’re done - special delivery!”

The last two words, shouted out in his ear without warning, were accompanied by a firm shove to the back.  Utterly unprepared for the two hands that forced him forwards, Brandon found himself falling, the six foot drop over in an instant as he slammed painfully into the water below, the impact knocking the breath out of him.  

Coolness closed over his head as momentum carried him downwards, shutting off his access to life-giving air.  Water filled his nose and mouth, the chlorine taste and tang harsh in his throat.  The bottom of the pool was too far down for him to put his feet down, there was nothing to brace himself against; he was out of his depth and out of air.  Panic set in and he tried to climb back towards the surface, clawing towards the light above him.

Alan watched with a grin as the figure sailed over his head.  He and his brothers all knew it was a risk to stand near Gordon by the pool but it was a lesson Brandon was yet to learn.  He wondered whether Brandon would laugh or curse over his sudden dunking.  The figure hit the water with all the grace of a cinder block and Alan winced, knowing that such a bad landing was bound to sting.  

The water churned as Brandon’s hands and head broke the surface but only for a moment before his rigidly upright body slid back down into the depths. Another bob up, another slide down; each time the ginger head barely broke the surface.  It wasn’t often that Alan dealt with drowning, the water was more Gordon’s domain, but he knew the signs and his rescuer’s instinct and training kicked in.

“Gordon!” he cried out, hoping his brother was still on the deck above to lend a hand, before pushing powerfully off the pool wall towards his floundering boyfriend.

Gordon, who had already started heading back inside, stopped and turned at the shout.  That wasn’t the sound of a brother in jest; instead the tone was pure mission and his body jolted on automatic response.  The sight that greeted him had him running for the steps that led to the lower pool edge.  Alan had already grabbed Brandon and was attempting to tow him to one side of the pool, a maneuver that was significantly hampered by the panicked thrashing of the figure that Gordon instantly re-categorised as a casualty in need of rescue.

Knowing he would be of more use on the poolside to help lift Brandon out Gordon could only watch as Alan tried to calm the flailing man.  It didn’t seem to be working; Brandon was still exhibiting pure, terrified panic and was clawing at the arms that held him firmly.  At last the pair reached the poolside and Gordon took hold of Brandon, hauling him up onto the deck.  

The change from water to stone as he was bodily dragged over the hard lip of the pool stilled Brandon’s desperate movements, the transition breaking through the panic as something deep inside his fogged consciousness told him he was finally safe.  He lay on his side on the warm flagstones, his body slightly curled in on itself, feeling the sun on his skin.  His throat burned and his breathing was ragged.  A wet cough and his body emptied itself of pool water and apple juice in an action that did the burning sensation no favours but did at least make the breathing earlier.  Only then did he take in the set of knees in front of him, now resting in a puddle of his evacuated stomach contents, and the soothing hand rubbing circles on his upper arm.  Alan.  

Brandon was vaguely aware of the commotion going on around him, shouted commands, running footsteps.  He didn't care.  He had light and warmth and air.  

The bare knees in front of him were exchanged for a pair clad in thick denim.  Another cough and he added bile to the puddle that was already wicking its way up the material as the jeans did their best to absorb the mess.  He probably ought to feel guilty, throwing up over two brothers.

"Brandon?  You got any more left in there buddy?"

As if prompted by the question another retch spasmed through his body but nothing came up.  Brandon flicked his eyes up to meet Virgil's warm brown ones that held nothing but concern and he shook his head weakly.  He became vaguely aware of the bleeping of a med scanner that had appeared from somewhere.

"Scan's clear.  Nothing reached his lungs and heart rate and respiration are returning to normal." This was directed at someone behind Brandon.  "Up you get but take it slow now."  A plaid clad arm was held out but Brandon ignored it, preferring to sit up under his own steam.

"Brandon?"  Alan was back in front of him, placing a steadying hand on shoulders that trembled slightly.

It hurt Brandon to see the worry etched across Alan’s features, worry that was only there because of his own inadequacies.  He dropped his head, unable to meet those clear blue eyes any longer.  The shame burned worse than the chlorine.  

“Alan, go take Brandon to get warmed up.  He’s had a shock so no leaving him alone.  He’ll need to take it easy.  Shouldn’t have to worry about secondary drowning but you know the signs.”  

Alan nodded, more than happy to comply with Virgil’s instruction.  The calm tenderness with which it was delivered gave implicit permission to leave the maintenance tasks that were due his attention.  His original plan had been to take Brandon up with him to Three’s cockpit while he replaced the air filters.  Okay, his real original plan had been to hook Brandon up to a computer somewhere while he worked through his jobs list but that was before yesterday happened.  Brandon, still dazed, was in no fit state to be in his rocket and Alan was grateful to Virgil for picking up on his need to stay close to the redhead who was shivering on the flagstones.

Alan led Brandon towards the villa, one arm protectively around the back of his waist.  Virgil watched them go, lips quirking slightly at the closeness of the pair as they padded back inside.  He knew he would need to square it with Scott about why Alan wasn’t doing his chores but he’d rather do that than try and separate the couple right now.  

Once Alan and Brandon reached the kitchen and disappeared out of sight he turned to Gordon.  The softness had gone to be replaced by the operative who demanded answers over the unexpected situation he had been called to, summoned with the demand for a med-scan.

“So, are you going to tell me what the hell just happened there?”

Xoxoxox

Scott eventually tracked the pair down in the den.  Alan and Brandon were sharing a couch, Brandon’s head nestled on his brother’s chest, his feet up to the side on the seat.  As he entered Scott felt twin sets of eyes turn towards him, the murmuring voices falling silent and he got the distinct feeling he had intruded on a private moment.  Apprehension graced Brandon’s features but Alan’s face hardened in defiance and Scott didn’t miss how the arm around Brandon tensed, holding him firmly and protectively in place.  A declaration.

It pained Scott to see their reactions, Alan was clearly preparing for battle, but he probably deserved it; he certainly hadn’t shown much enthusiasm for his brother’s change in relationship status.  He didn’t want a battle. 

 He crossed the room and perched on the low table in front of the couch, hitting the controls on the projector and pausing the movie that the pair were no longer paying attention to.

 “Brandon, Virgil and Gordon filled me in.  Are you okay?"  The concern in his voice was real and he felt the tension in the room drop a little in response.

A nod.

"Good, you gave Gordon a bit of a scare back there."

Alan snorted.  "He's not the one who nearly drowned."  The scared one had been Brandon and it was only his desire to stay close to his boyfriend that was stopping him from going and tearing a strip off Gordon.  It had taken a lot of coaxing to tease out a hesitant confession from Brandon that he'd never learned to swim.  The downcast eyes and mutterings about never having the opportunity left Alan with the distinct impression that there was a lot about his past that Brandon was leaving out.

Seeing the pair nestled so close, Scott wasn't too proud to admit that he owed them an apology.  His attitude towards them had been frosty to say the least and he needed his brother to know he was fine with everything.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night, meeting with the Board always puts me in a bad mood.  Then you guys, well, it caught me off guard.  I took my frustrations out on the pair of you and I shouldn't have."

Whatever Alan had been expecting it wasn't this.

"You're not mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad at you.  If you and Brandon are happy together then I'm happy."

"Really?" There was still worry in Alan's voice and Scott realised just how much his earlier reaction had had an impact. 

"Really.  I honestly have no problem with it,  you two are both adults and can make your own choices.  I'm not going to get in your way if you have feelings for each other."

"Thanks."  The arm around Brandon loosened slightly, the embrace becoming softer and more tender as the fear of a dressing down drifted away.

"I do have another rule though." Two sets of eyes widened with apprehension.  "I'm guessing we are going to be seeing you here  more often, Brandon, it's only natural that you two are going to want to spend time together.  But we live on an island and we have a pool right outside the door, I'd feel a lot happier if I knew you were a confident swimmer.  Gordon's agreed to teach you."

The fear radiating off Brandon was palpable and Scott couldn't really blame him, just a few hours ago that same aquanaut had thrown him into the pool and left him fearing for his life.

"Do I have to?"

Expecting resistance from Alan, Scott was surprised when his youngest brother piped up in support of the idea.

"S'okay, I'll be there too."  He turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Brandon's head.  "Scott's right though, it's an important skill.  Gordon won't throw you in again, I promise.  He's actually a really good teacher."

Brandon sat up, looking first at Scott who was calm but clearly viewed this as non-negotiable, then at Alan who gave him an encouraging smile.  He really didn't want to, he'd successfully managed to keep away from the pool so far, water just filled him with dread and today had only compounded that feeling, but he could see it made sense.  It probably helped that none of them were putting him down over his lack of swimming ability.  The Bear couldn't be seen to be taking swimming lessons but perhaps Brandon, in the privacy of a secluded island, could.  He could see it would mean a lot to Alan and even if he didn't want to do it for himself he was prepared to do it for him.

"Okay, I'll try."

"Great.  I don't think we'll do anything today, for a start Gordon's currently sorting Three's air filters," Alan realised Gordon must have already been on the receiving end of a sharp reprimand if he was currently working through his chores, "but next visit we'll make a start.  Anyway," Scott stood up, "I'll leave you to it.  Alan, make sure you keep a close eye on your patient." 

There was a definite smirk as Scott left the room but Alan didn't care, if there was teasing to come later on then he would deal with it.  For now, barring any rescues that got called in, he had permission to stay with Brandon and was intending to make the most of it.  Brandon didn't miss the hint either and by the time Scott turned to close the door the two figures on the couch were nestled back together, the movie left abandoned and ignored.

[jamesbvck]

change your mind | six

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU, High School!Bucky) Summary: Senior Year: the last year to be a somebody or a nobody. A chance to fall in love, ace that final exam and make memories. After a terrible first impression, Bucky makes it his mission to fix the mistake he made with the new girl. Will they get their chance? Warnings: swearing, more cliche high school things, flashbacks A/N: hi! since january was only three days, there are some flashbacks to random days in january! feedback is encouraged :)

CYM MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

There were moments when you were on cloud nine; moments that your heart soared and your stomach was swarmed with fluttering butterflies. And then there were other times when you were second guessing everything. There was still slight hesitation and reservations that you had with Bucky and sometimes you wanted to pull the plug and call off...whatever you two were anyway. There weren’t any major red flags but there were still times when you could convince yourself that Bucky wasn’t the right guy for you, that somewhere along the line everything would just crumble. It had barely been a month and you knew that was nothing.

Your classes had changed up for the new semester and you didn’t have any classes with Bucky. He had a free period and moved his schedule around so he could sleep in during first which was pretty smart. But it was okay. You had another class with Steve which was math, and you shared fourth period co-ed gym with Clint and Sam which already proven to be quite the adventure. Those two could be amusing to hang around, especially when you’d turn to run a third lap of the gym with sweat beading down your forehead and on the verge of collapsing, and Clint offers to piggyback you around for the next two laps. Your gym teacher, Mr Lang, really didn’t seem to care much. He always had coffee and some sort of snack with him and half assed the class. It was going to be a breeze.

You did miss history class with Bucky, though. Not so much Mr Pierce, but just the routine of the morning and Bucky annoyingly prodding you with his pencil. It wasn’t all bad, even though he had first period free, he’d get up and drive you to school when it was super snowy. You had told him it wasn’t necessary but Bucky was Bucky and would be at your front door fifteen minutes before school started. Sometimes Becca would be in the backseat, eagerly waving from the window.

Homework dates seemed to be a more frequent thing. Bucky would come over after school and you’d both sit with the TV on, eat some snacks and do homework. Those times would start off with homework but sometimes you’d both find yourself on the couch a little less interested in fundamental learning.

Bucky’s phone had been vibrating nonstop for the last thirty minutes. He’d pick it up and feverishly reply back, setting it face down on the coffee table. You nonchalantly peaked at him as he sat on the couch and you were on the floor with your own work. His brows were tightly knit together and face contoured with discontent.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You set your pencil down in your math textbook, rotating yourself to face him.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” you countered. “You’ve been working on the same question for a half hour, I don’t even think you’ve written anything new down.”

Bucky sighed deeply, dropping his own pen down and leaned back on the couch. He rubbed the side of his chin as you got up and took the open cushion next to him. “My dad was supposed to come back from a work trip tonight but I guess he decided to fly from Sacramento to Dallas instead for something else.”

“How long has he been away for?”

“A week? Haven’t really countdown the days since I was thirteen. He’s going to miss Julia’s little play at school on Thursday and he was supposed to be at Abby’s parent-teacher interview.”

You got the sense that Bucky’s father seemed to be more absent than not. It made you wonder how Winifred handled four kids on her own, but you supposed none of them were babies and they could all manage to help each other out. It had been just you and your mother for a while and you grew up a little fast having to fend for yourself. You really couldn’t imagine how it must have been a few years ago when everyone was younger and their father went away for a long period of time. Sure, he was providing for the family but family was important too.

“My dad got me into football, right. Well, my dad and my uncle and they taught Steve and I how to play. Dad and I would throw around the ball in the backyard until it was dark. At first it was just for fun then I started to really love it, and I worked hard at it. He’d take me to every youth league practice and game, and if I had a shit game he’d say there’s nothing wrong with trying your best.”

Bucky was rambling and you let him. It sounded like he needed to get some things off his chest anyway and you wouldn’t interrupt him.

“But then Steve’s mom would have to drive me, or I’d have to figure out a way to get there because my mom was taking care of my sisters. My dad got a promotion at the tech company he works for in the city and he started flying around. It was cool for a bit but then he stopped coming to games,” Bucky took a second to breathe. “I did a six week training camp last summer. It was thirty minutes away in Warrior Falls so I’d either have to bus or sometimes Clint or Steve would drive me. Came home one night and there was that Jeep in the driveway and my dad handed me the keys. We didn’t say anything, he just pat my shoulder and went back into the house.”

It was quiet for a few moments. You knew you probably didn’t need to say anything, that simply letting Bucky vent for a minute was enough. His phone vibrated again. You reached over and handed it to him seeing Becca’s name flash across the screen with an eye roll emoji. It wasn’t just affecting Bucky but his sisters, too. Sure, perhaps Bucky and Becca weren’t surprised by it but it wasn’t fair to Julia and Abby who were younger. Bucky cleared the message and set his phone aside.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

You blinked in confusion. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky shrugged. His arm went around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. He didn’t reply and you didn’t focus on an explanation. But there was the pattern of Bucky seemingly apologizing for nothing sometimes, pre-preventing himself from being some sort of bad guy which you had grown to learn he was rather the opposite. You rested into him, closing your eyes. Homework could wait.

You wandered to your locker after your sleepy first period class. You weren’t too into world geography but it wasn’t the worst class ever. A girl that was in your history class was in this class and you sat beside her, she was nice. The hallways were decorated with cut out hearts and pink and white streamers. There were bistol board signs with large, bold lettering indicating that Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. You could send candy grams and/or roses to your crush or friends. You stopped by one of the tables in the main foyer and forked over ten dollars to get six, one for each of your friends.

You took them with you to your locker having decided on to personalize them for each person. You stuck them into your notebook and retrieved your math book. A tingle shot up your back as a gentle hand touched your waist. Your eyes flickered to your left seeing Bucky with a pink nose from the cold and the black beanie situated on his head was dusted with snow. He was still dressed for the outdoors having not been to his locker yet.

“It’s fucking cold.” Bucky sniffed.

“Maybe you should invest in an actual winter jacket,” you said, brushing the snow off the shoulders of his lettermans jacket. “And I don’t know, maybe a scarf? Gloves? Proper winter garments?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you get sick.”

He smiled cheekily. You closed your locker and began the daily routine of Bucky walking you to second period as it was by his end of the school. Your hand bumped against his cold one as you strolled, Bucky telling you about how his dad has gotten home late last night. Apparently breakfast had been quiet, only mouths chewing and his father, George, reading the morning paper. Winifred had made a stack of pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

You gave Bucky a half smile. At least his dad was home for a few days, that was something.

You stopped at your math room, turning to face Bucky. “Guess I’ll see you at lunch. Think pizza’s on the menu today.”

“Pizza’s always on the menu.” He chuckled.

“Hats off, Mr Barnes.” Mr Pym was on a mission as he walked by with his briefcase and a stack of papers in hand. But he still had time to make sure students followed the code of conduct.

Bucky pulled off his beanie, “Sorry, sir.” He replied, waiting until Pym was around the corner. Bucky took his hat and neatly adjusted it so it was perfectly slouching on the crown of your head. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You reached up to touch the wool and smiled. “If I get in trouble it’s going to be your fault.”

“You won’t. I promise, only the elderly care about the hat rule.”

The bell rang causing other kids to scurry to their next class. Bucky was already going to be late to his English class. Bucky leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Your insides tangled with a fuzzy feeling. He waved and you wiggled your fingers back, slipping into the classroom. Steve trailed into the room with his backpack on his shoulder, taking up the seat next to you.

“You into beanies now?” He asked, unzipping his bag.

You smiled to yourself. “Maybe so.”

“Looks familiar, think I’ve seen it before.” You could hear the teasing in Steve’s voice.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, shaking your head as you flipped open to a fresh lined page in your notebook. Maybe you were into more than just the beanie.

You spent the entire class half paying attention and half doodling on the candy gram cards. You finished five out of the six, unsure of what to write on Bucky’s. It didn’t need to be anything serious. You tapped your eraser against the top of the desk with the bell drawing you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Steve as he was closing his books and stuck his pencil behind his ear.

“Coming to lunch, or are you going to endure another round of math?” Steve grinned.

“I don’t even know what the lesson was today.” You admitted, getting out of your chair.

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe that beanie’s on too tight.”

You knocked shoulders with him as you exited the classroom and headed to your lockers. Peggy stood beside your locker since her Economics class was just a few doors down. She waved with a grand smile on her face.

“Heard a rumour in class today.” Peggy said.

“What kind of rumours swirl around Econ? How the American economy is collapsing? That’s nothing new.” You spun your padlock and unlocked your locker, shoving your books up on the top shelf. You took Peggy’s to store in there for now, too.

“No— well, yes— But these girls in the back of the class were gossiping like they usually do,” she started walking after you got your wallet and closed up your locker. “Apparently one of them is working the candy gram station and said Bucky stopped by and bought a pretty penny’s worth of the roses to send out.”

You arched a brow at Peggy. “That’s the hot gossip?”

She shrugged and laughed. “It is when you’re not the girl receiving them. Right, Nat?” Peggy called out to Natasha who was waiting by the stairs. She glanced up from her phone. “Roses are a big deal around here.” Peggy repeated.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “They’re flowers. You can buy them at the grocery store.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Peggy beamed, practically skipping into the cafeteria.

“Steve’s sent her a rose every year,” Natasha walked alongside you. “Can’t even imagine what gushy thing he’ll do this time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. At least they were actually a couple this time around. Steve was already in line with Sam. Peggy squeezed her way in between them with Steve’s arm going around her as an automatic response to her presence. You and Natasha stood behind some freshmen girls in line who were whispering (and failing) about Steve and Sam. You snickered to yourself as they chatted about how attractive both boys were with Natasha sighing loudly with a short laugh.

It was a short wait before you grabbed your pizza and a carton of chocolate milk, heading to your usual table. You pulled out a chair and bellied yourself up against the table, beginning to eat. Clint and Bucky joined with cold air rolling off their bodies from the bitter outside weather. The smell of smoke stuck to their clothes and you wonder how in the hell they could stand outside in such frigid conditions. Bucky slung his arm around the back of your chair as he drove into a conversation with Steve. Contently you listened and munched on your cheesy pizza, eyes lingering around the room.

You stopped on Connie four tables over. She had a straw biting between her teeth as she sipped on ginger ale, and she was staring directly at you. Her face was scornful and you feared looking at her too long would turn you to stone. You blinked your gaze away, mindlessly adjusting Bucky’s beanie on your head.

It wasn’t a topic that you wanted to bring up. Hell, you didn’t want to talk about it ever. And you certainly didn’t want to bring it up at the championship party for the Valhalla Panthers. They were now crowned five-time New York State champions after their defeat over Xander High. The atmosphere had been electrifying with the crowd storming the field. Truly it was one of the most exhilarating moments you had ever witnessed. You mooned over the fact that they had won.

But there was a speed bump in the way of the right direction and you had to get over it. The low feeling had been eating at you ever since you walked into the party. You weren’t sure whose house this was but it was crammed with people and the trophy was on full display in the living room of the house. This wasn’t the right place with drinks flowing and thick air circulating. Your phone was clinched in your hand, vibrating twice with a new text message. You turned it over with the screen lighting up seeing Bucky’s name and him asking if you had arrived yet. You didn't need any direction to find him. You could hear Clint’s laughter from the kitchen off around the corner and you knew he’d be somewhere over there. Sure, enough he was.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand and a childish grin on his lips. He looked so elated and slightly relieved. Sam was perched up on the island shoving his hand into a bag of Doritos and Steve was humbled by it all. You put on your happy face because truthfully you were and weaved through until you got to Bucky. One of his arms went around your shoulders in a half hug and you pressed yourself to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“We won!” He whispered against the side of your head.

“I know, Buck,” You laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

You pulled back slightly feeling a few nerves build up in the pit of your stomach. You looked up at Bucky whose thrilled expression transitioned into one of concern. Clearly your face was giving away more than you had hoped.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You were mute and instead took his hand to bring him to another room, one more quiet and vacant. “Hey-- did something happen?”

You sighed, leaving the door to a small room open. “I really should just wait until tomorrow but I can’t and I don’t want to ruin your big night.”

Bucky’s brow pulled together. “You’re not going to ruin my night. I’d honestly rather be sitting in Clint’s basement with my friends and you rather than be here.”

You smiled briefly, wrapping your arms around your frame. “Some girls sitting behind Peggy, Nat and I at the game were talking about you and saying shit like how you cheated on Connie with me. Peggy told me to ignore it but it’s kind of hard too. I know we’re just figuring this out still but… Were you dating Connie when I started here?”

Bucky visibly became uncomfortable with the conversation and you wanted to take back everything you had just said to him. His fingers combed through the front of his hand as his weight shifted from leg to leg. “No. We’ve never… dated. Not really.”

“Not really?”

He sighed. “Connie’s liked me since the tenth grade, and yeah I kinda liked her back for a while too but we’ve never actually dated. We’d hang out and stuff but the more I’d hang out the more I knew we wouldn’t really work out. She kind of became a person I went to when I wanted to be alone but not totally.”

Your arms moved up to fold across your chest, a firm line forming on your lips. You didn’t know Bucky two years ago, you didn’t know anything.

“Did you talk to her about your dad?” You asked.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. You nodded. “I told her in November that I didn’t think we should really hang out anymore. Didn’t really give her a reason but she was smart enough to figure out why.”

You were the why.

“Nat said that the only reason she wants to be with you is because she thinks you’re going to go pro.” You told him.

Bucky chuckled. “She did suddenly get very into football when we started talking,” his head shook. “What did she say to you on New Years? You never told me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, debating on whether to spill it or not. Did that part even matter? You had faith in you and Bucky. “She said you’ll get easily bored with girls like me. I’ve got your attention now but give it another week and you’ll crawl your way back to her.”

Bucky’s head was shaking frantically. “No. I’m not--” He paused, humming lowly. He took a few steps towards you. “That’s not going to happen. She’s trying to get under your skin.”

“Kinda worked. I ignored you for most of the night.”

“I don’t want to be with Connie, you know that, right?” You nodded, leaning back against the wall. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.” You murmured, taking his hand and laced your fingers together. “I just… don’t want her to cause a problem.”

“She won’t. I promise.” Bucky gave a half smile. You matched his smile and nodded. He lifted your chin a little higher, lips locking in a soft kiss. You let go of his hand, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you.

Thursdays typically dragged on for what seemed like forever. You weren’t sure why but it always seemed like the clock ticked a little slower. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open in geography and more often than not your head bobbed in a short snooze. The bell was your indicator to move on to your next class. Everyone seemed rather giddy since it was Valentine’s Day. Truthfully you never understood the commercialized holiday (plus it wasn’t even a true holiday where you got the day off), but it made people smile so it was something to someone.

You and Bucky had agreed not to do anything, at least nothing big. You had sent him a candy gram along with your friends, but that was something small and lighthearted. Student council was handing out treats in the main area and there was a bake sale going on throughout the day. You grabbed a pink cupcake along the way to math, humming as you went. Steve was already in his seat with a brownie.

“It’s the day of love, Steven.” You mused.

He chuckled. “So I’ve been told. This little girl that lives across the street from me went up and down our road giving every family a Valentine card and brownies this morning.”

That had to be one of the sweetest things you had ever heard. You smiled and set your books down, unwrapping the liner of your cupcakes and took a bite. It was plain vanilla but still tasty. Peggy had been preparing all week for her date with Steve. Apparently there was a new exhibit in the MET that Peggy had been hinting at to the point where Clint told Steve to buy her tickets so she’d shut up about it. It worked. So Peggy had you over almost every night to help her pick the right outfit which ended up being the one she had tried on the Monday night.

Math was more of a catch up period as there had been a substitute in for the last two days. You idly worked on the assigned questions in your textbook, some kids didn’t do anything and were on their phones or talking about anything but math. There was a knock on the door and the kid in the front of the class got up to answer it. Two student council members walked in both wearing pink shirts. The girl was holding a basket of candy grams and the boy had a handful of roses in his hand. They began going around the classroom and gave out the gifts.

Steve got a few. There was one from Peggy, of course, the one from you which he laughed at, and two secret admirer ones. You wiggled your eyebrows as he ripped the Hershey’s kisses off the cards to eat.

“Here you go, Rogers.” The boy handed Steve a rose. You perked up as he took it.

“Peggy sent you a rose?” You asked.

“No. It’s from Bucky. He think he’s funny and had bought one since freshman year. He even drew a heart on the card this time, how thoughtful.” Steve was snickering as you swiped the card out of his hand. It was pure humour.

To: Steven G Rogers Just ‘cause you actually got the girl doesn’t mean you’re not getting a rose. - Buck ♥

You shook your head, smiling to yourself and placed the card back on Steve’s desk. The girl came around and placed three grams on your desk: Peggy, Sam and a half assed one from Natasha and Clint combined.

“And these are for you.” The boy extended his hand holding six roses. Your brows shot up.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Positive.”

You cautiously took the roses feeling a few eyes on you and hear a few whispers. You opened the first card seeing Bucky’s handwriting. There was one simple word written: Smile. You blinked and began opening the rest of the little cards seeing a single word on each: Laugh. Nose. Smarts. Funny. Everything.

You smiled to yourself feeling your cheeks warm in a blush. You wanted to tell him he was an idiot but you refrained, basking in the small moment of affection. Commercialized or not, it did make you feel giddy.

You jiggled holding your books and carrying the flowers to your locker. You were speed walking back to your locker so you could quickly put away your things and find Bucky. Peggy was there with her own rose in hand.

“So the rumour was true,” she motioned to the roses. “Who knew Bucky could be a romantic.”

“Hold these.” You gave her the flowers and tucked your books under your arm. Your fingers dialled through your lock combo, unclasping and opening the door.

A loud pop sounded startling those around you. Your heart was racing, body frozen as pink, red and white dust floated around in the air. Slowly you looked down at yourself seeing paint splattered to your front and a coating of chalk dust. It was everywhere: face, chest, legs, arms, hands. Peggy had her hands covering her mouth with a few paint hits on her clothing. Voices were murmuring with some phones out snapping pictures. Your books dropped to the floor as you wiped the paint away from your eyes and mouth.

There was some muffled laughter coming from down the hallway. You glanced over seeing Connie and her doll-like friends and a few jocks sniggering behind her.

“Oh, that’s for sure going to stain.” Connie quipped.

Your body heat was rising at an incredible rate from humiliation and anger. Peggy sharply turned on her heel, dropping the roses and marched her way over to Connie.

Connie straightened up, arms firmly folded across her chest with pursed lips.

“How childish can you be? Something doesn’t go your way so you hurt others?” Peggy’s voice was loud as she stormed over to the other girl. “Get over yourself! The only person that looks bad right now is you.”

“Do I Peggy? I’m not the one covered in paint.” Connie mused.

Peggy got closer.” You’re a pathetic bitch—“

Sam swooped in between Peggy and Connie before physical contact was made. He gently moved Peggy back telling her to relax.

“Carter. Anderson. Fury’s office now!” Mr Pierce broke through a cluster of students. He glanced to you, pointing. “You as well.”

Your teeth grinded together. You collected your books off the ground, shoving them into your locker and slammed the door shut. You followed behind the others and Pierce down to the main office.

Your fingers curled and uncurled as you sat in a cushioned chair in Principal Fury’s office. Peggy, Connie and you each had a good foot in between each other and no talking was allowed. Peggy was still steaming and Connie looked like a perfect princess as she sat checking her nails. You could cuss Connie to the moon but that still wouldn’t amount to anything.

It was silent, nothing but the clock on the wall ticking.

The door to Fury’s office opened and shut. His footsteps were loud and hard on the ground. Three student files were tossed onto his neatly organized desk. Your manila covered folder was on top with Peggy’s and Connie’s underneath. Fury stood behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Valhalla does not accept bullying at any level. We are a community who help others,” the man in charge started. “Miss Carter, I can assume you would not like a strike on your perfect record? Brown, Dartmouth, and Cornell are the schools you applied to, correct?”

“That’s correct, sir. But I don’t believe I’ve done anything wrong. I was standing up for my friend who was bullied by the other person in this room.” Peggy was matter of fact, a stern nod.

“Can you prove Miss Anderson did this?”

Peggy blinked. “I— No.”

Fury hummed, flipping open your file and scanned it over. “Five schools in seven years? Three high schools in four.”

You didn’t want to be in this room. You wish you could teleport to anywhere but here. “My mom and I move a lot.”

“Why’s that?”

You looked up from your lap, tipping your head to the side. “I don’t think that’s relevant to me getting sprayed by paint, sir.”

Fury nodded, turning his attention to Connie. “What were you doing at her locker, Miss Anderson?”

“My biology class is down that hallway, Mr Fury. I was just trying to walk back to my locker to go to lunch.” Connie’s tone was sweet like sugar, oozing with fabricated remarks.

There wasn’t anyway you could flat out prove Connie had set this up. But you knew in your bones that she was the mastermind behind it. Maybe she got one of the dumb basketball jocks to help her out. Either way it was sounding like nothing was going to be resolved right then and there. The office was going to start an “investigation” to see what they could find. Fury was continuing basic questions that weren’t assisting to the incident. Your time was wasting and the paint was drying to your skin and now ruined clothes.

In a quick motion you got up from the chair and flung open the door. Your feet moved quicker than you mind with Fury’s voice a distance away calling for you to come back. You had enough of Connie, enough of her jealous antics. It felt like a game and you were a be played wrong.

“Mr Barnes, I can’t let you and Mr Rogers into the office.”

“Just listen for a sec, Miss Hill--”

Vice Principal Hill and Bucky’s voices collided. He was arguing and she was trying to turn him away at the front desk. You kept walking, not even making eye contact. There was a break in Bucky’s voice when he caught sight of you. He got to the door before you did, grabbing your arm to halt you. His hands cupped your stained face, concern flickering through his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You pushed his hands away. “I’m covered in fucking paint, Bucky,” you glanced past him seeing Steve stare down at his feet. Your shoulders trembled in a sigh, closing your eyes. “Take me home.”

Bucky opened the office door and walked out after you. He shrugged off his letterman and draped it over your shoulders. You were pretty sure the paint probably wrecked your belongings. You and Bucky exited through the side door to the student parking lot. Not a word was said to his car or during the car ride to your home. You eyes stayed focused on the window. All you could smell was paint and chalk. He parked and you jumped out into the snow. You went around to the back of the house, opening the back door and went inside. It was quiet and you were grateful your mother took an afternoon shift at the hospital.

You shedded Bucky’s jacket and discarded your shoes. He followed you like a ghost, keeping his mouth zipped but you knew he wanted to ask you a million and a half questions. Immediately you turned on the shower upstairs, getting a dark towel and gathered fresh clothes from your room. You disappeared into the bathroom leaving him in your bedroom.

The water was warm as it dripped down your skin. The paint swirled at the bottom around the drain. At least it was coming off. You scrubbed your skin and your face free of the paint. You didn’t know how long you were in the shower until the water started to run cool and your were pruning. You dried yourself off and sat on the edge of the tub. One of the sweaters that you always worn was destroyed, the jeans were maybe salvageable. You tugged on the clean clothes and checked in the mirror to make sure there was no red or pink on your face before exiting the bathroom.

Bucky was sat at the edge of the bed, phone in hand. His head lifted when you closed the door.

“Do you know if Peggy’s alright?” You asked.

“Steve says she’s not in trouble but she’s pissed.” He said.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” You sat down next to him, burying your face into your hands. “You can go back. Make it in time for your next class.”

“I’m not going back. Think you’re more important than English and weight lifting.” Bucky gently removed your hands. The back of your eyes prickled but it wasn’t worth spilling tears over Connie Anderson. She didn’t deserve that kind of satisfaction.

You pulled the sleeves down over your hands of the light sweater you had put on. “This is stupid right, everything about this is stupid?” You looked over at Bucky. “Does she actually think I’m going to cave in?”

Some part of you wanted to cave only because of how Connie was acting over a guy that didn’t even like her back anymore. Bucky had moved on and it was best she did too. She was stuck in a fantasy.

“I’ll talk to her.”

You gave him a look, shaking your head. “Because that worked so well the last time, right?” You didn’t mean to be so harsh to Bucky but realistically what more could he do, what more could anyone say?

Bucky enveloped you in his arms, pulling you back to lay on the bed. He murmured an apology, one that he didn’t need to say but that’s just how he was. And at the end of the day, he was with you.

“Hey Happy, can you get us two chocolate milkshakes and two burgers for me and my girl here.” Bucky shrugged off his jacket and occupied the chair across from you.

You dusted the snow off yourself, unzipping your jacket and removed your gloves. Happy’s was half vacant, a hum of voices chatting and the TV behind the bar top on to the New York Rangers game. You glanced over at the burly man who owned the diner as he began to make the milkshakes and place in the order for food.

“Heard there was boys movie night tonight.” You said to Bucky.

He nodded, “Yeah decided to ditch it. Besides, Stevie will probably ditch halfway to go see Peggy so no one can be mad at me.”

You smiled lightly as the two milkshakes were placed in front of you. The whipped cream was homemade and spiralled upward high with a cherry on top. You licked some of the cream off the straw and popped the cherry into your mouth. Bucky leaned back in his chair, gazing over at the TV for a few moments to watch the hockey game. From what you understood this was a date, well, you had been to Happy’s plenty of times but there were usually five other people accompanying. Plus Bucky had loosely indicated it was one, a “food date” as he called it. His attention turned to you, the fluorescent lights didn’t do his blue eyes enough justice.

He cracked a smile at your unintentional staring. Your eyes flickered to the table, moving your milkshake glass closer to you. “Isn’t it counteractive to get a milkshake when it’s cold outside?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “But it’s a rule that you have to get one when you’re here.”

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Me.”

Of course, you laughed to yourself. You sipped on the ice cream drink, lashing fluttering as you peered over at Bucky. You had nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach. The entire week your mind had been swirling from the kiss to bowling to now. You had accepted the fact that yes, you had a crush on Bucky Barnes and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

“I like your laugh, you know.” Bucky commented nonchalantly.

One of your brows arched. “You like my laugh?” He confirmed with a nod. You shifted in your seat and stirred around the milkshake. “What else do you like about me?”

Admittedly you were curious because out of everyone in Valhalla, somehow Bucky was struck by you.

“Busting down the gate with a heavy question,” he joked lightly. “I like your smile, I like that you’re funny and can take a joke especially hanging around Clint. You’re smart, real smart. And I like your nose.”

Your head tipped. “You like my nose?”

“Yeah, I like your nose.” He replied, picking up a spoon to scoop some ice cream out of the glass. “I like everything about you.”

Your stomach flipped upside down. He didn’t even know everything about you but you were sinking in the feeling. Happy startled you as he came around with two red baskets that had your burger and fries. You smiled politely, saying thank you as you took the ketchup bottle. Bucky was already a quarter into his burger by the time you had eaten three fries.

You still had your cautious guard but for now you’d wade in the waves.

Friday was a bust. You didn’t get out of bed, nor did you have the will to go to school. After you mother had heard what happened with Connie, she had taken it upon herself to call Fury to give him a piece of her mind. You could hear her stern talk from the kitchen all the way up behind your closed bedroom door. You rolled over, covering your ears with the pillow.

By Monday morning your anger had passed. Your things had been moved into Peggy’s locker a hallway over since yours was still covered in the festive paint. There were a few stares in the hallway as you walked on by fellow students. You kept your head held high and ignored everything around you. Steve gave you a short hug upon your arrival to math but spoke nothing of the situation which you silently thanked him for. It was better to move on instead of moping about it.

Bucky was there outside of the classroom when the bell rang having dipped class early. You gave him a small smile, storing your books in his locker.

“Do you wanna eat here or do you want go out?” He asked.

He had hesitancy in his voice wondering whether it was a good idea to go into the cafeteria where Connie would be. You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together and moved forward to the lunch area. Some freshmen shuffled out of the way as you strolled in with Bucky. Your table was claimed already by Sam and Natasha, Sam waving you over.

“Go ahead, I’ll be a sec.” You let go of Bucky’s hand.

You pivoted on your heel and set straight in the direction of Connie’s table. The laughter coming from the table died down as your approached the table. You took at glance at the kids before settling your sharp eye on Connie.

“Connie,” you faux smiled. “I wanted to thank you. I want to thank you for spraying me paint in front of fifty kids and humiliating me. I felt so bad at first for myself but then I realized I feel bad for you. I am so sorry that you think you have to do things like this because your self esteem is so poor. Maybe if you were a little nicer your ugly wouldn’t be on the outside like it is on the inside. So thank you, Connie, and stay away from my friends, me, and my boyfriend.”

Connie’s eyes were glaring like daggers, her fingers gripping her drink with enmity. You twisted back to see Bucky still standing where you had left him with Steve, Peggy, and Clint. Peggy had a smug grin on her face, waving to Connie in spite.

“Are we just going standing here or going to eat lunch?” You asked them.

“After you, m’lady.” Clint motioned courteously.

You led the way to the food line, Bucky’s arm slinging over your shoulder. “So, boyfriend?”

“Status pending.” You pushed his side, smiling. He stopped you before the line, a longing look in his eye before he firmly pressed his lips to yours. Your smile grew bigger. Status approved.

bucky list: @buckychrist @bvcks @lila-bard @stanclub @stardustparker @buckybarnesppreciationsociety @sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @queenlydias @dontpanc @kingsebstan  @cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch @red-wallflowers @brooklynightsky @hellaqueerangelofthelord @yknott81 @rvmanova @blame-the-russo-bros@buckybarneshairpullingkink @laurfangirl424 @buckyparkerish @sarcasticallysarah

CYM *tags open*: @villainsaremorerelatable @akamaiden @sofreakinmanyfandoms @smolbeanthings @autumnstarks @memory-of-a-goldfish @lizfawn @moonstruckhargrove @moonbeambucky@csigeoblue @sgtbookybarnes @marco-hvittyvik @tempestistired @trust-me-im-joly @in-the-potterhead-know @foenixphire @sergeantbannerbarnes @wi-atch-recs

[lsgingasblog]

Of Sunshine and Woes

Once again late entry. In this I tried combining day 3 laughter with day 4 spoiling akko.

To read in AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380559/chapters/35693691

Goodness. I finally finished having a conference call with representatives of the noble families.

Ever since our last summit with the UN the agreements reached were less than satisfactory and as a result the heads of each house were rather put-off to say the least.

In a sense I do understand where they are coming from but with the anti-magic terrorist and the magic superiority one at odds it’s only reasonable that tension is high between the magic and non-magic community. It’s been like this for years already.

And that’s discounting all the alien invaders, which luckily enough is the reason why the magic and non-magic community isn’t at war yet, the mutual enemy of sorts gives them a reason for cooperation.

Space patrol is also present but they are seen with even more animosity than anyone else. Also it doesn’t help that they don’t stick around.

Luluco has of course, but after one particularly disastrous press-conference she and the rest of the galactic force opted to help in private if we ever do need it.

The organization Ursula had roped me in that summer after our first year, Star Nobles has a fairly good cooperation with Space Patrol forces and they have gotten us and the world out of some pretty fatal binds.

One in particular I was sure Akko and I were goners.

We luckily survived, but we would come to find out a consequence of that event.

2 yeas ago when we started to try for a family. We tried everything from various potions, spells and even in-vitro and nothing would work out with either of us.

We found out both of us got irreversible damage in our system concerning procreation.

This left both Akko and I rather crestfallen.

However things between Akko hardly turn out predictable.

I stare at my wife. The television is on and she’s sound asleep. No surprise there.

The amazing charion kids show is on, followed by the Constella friends, the show based on the children constellation book Akko co-wrote with Ursula.

I notice the blanket falling down and I go grab it to cover Akko and her protruding belly.

It would seem miracles never do stop occurring when we are in proximity of each other.

Good thing Luluco suggested a space trip to make us get away from all the tension and sadness a few months back.

We did consider adoption of course, but we needed time to come to terms with how things were.

It was like a honeymoon again and we’ve been to space previously already a few times.

Despite it all being away from our respective jobs did wonders and about 2 months after our 2 week trip in space I noticed akko having puking spells, dizziness and other symptoms.

Having known our particular conditions I could never imagine what it actually was, even having done a quick check-up for akko, it left me baffled and we went to the doctors and even they couldn’t explain it, but there it was with no amount of uncertainty. We were going to be parents.

I look at my wife’s lovely features as I softly move away a stray hair. We had the day off today and we had gone for a short walk and to a nice restaurant to eat. The rest of the day was spent relaxing at home, until I got called and practically demanded to be in the conference call. Akko wasn’t too happy to have her pampering cut short.

She’s too adorable and I still feel dazed at times thinking this is our reality. That we found each other again at Luna Nova, found love and support in each other, married and now we are embarking on another adventure together.

“Mhmmm….Dia…?” she reaches out for me. Her eyes are still shut, I smile and proceed to grab her hand and slowly sit down next to her.  “I’m here love”

Akko squints her eyes open and starts pouting. “You’re late” she petulantly announces while having moved away from me a bit.

“Hmmm…the conference call ran late, you know how it gets with them….”

“Yeah those old windbags don’t know when to stop nagging” Akko dramatically throws her head back but starts peering sideways back to me.

“Might I remind you I’m am technically one of the noble families love? Am I to assume you are calling me an old windbag as well? And what about Croix and Ricardo?”  

“Yup all of you’s” she announces boomingly despite only being us two in the room. My wife is as incorrigible as she is adorable.  I can’t even stay mad and my smile slips through trying to feign offended.

Akko notices and smiles my way. She leans again to my side on the coach.

Our lives are still hectic and all the new nine witches have been fairly busy these last 10+ years after luna nova.

Various breakups, marriages, adoptions, deaths, births and wonderful new experiences as well as perilous and life threatening ones.

Despite all of this, through all the ups and downs I always find myself gravitating and finding solace, peace and happiness in the woman now wrapped in my arms.

The blanket while not immensely big is just about enough to cover us both.  We finally open our eyes, reveling in each other’s presence and the sheer luck and miracle to not only be having a child, but to even be able to have this special and dare I say idyllic moment.

We focus back on the tv. It looks like re-reruns of Amazing Charion and Constella Friends are over. It would appear Andrew is on. Well a re-run of yesterday’s press conference anyway.

‘Our nation’s and planet's progress is important, but so is communication, cooperation and communication.’

Goodness, a mere 15 years back if anyone had told her Andrew would be a liaison for the magic and non-magic world I would laugh at them, but people change. I am one such example as well. While I am always grateful of the people I go to help as a medical practitioner, it is amazing the amount of people Akko manages to positively affect and bring joy to just by existing in their life.

“We made that happen” Akko points at the screen. I am brought back to present. Andrew has brought his little 3 year old boy up the podium. Andrew’s dad no doubt coaxed him into using child for the campaign for minister of state. Andrew prefers his privacy after all, but the pride on his face while holding his son couldn’t be more genuine.

Akko has a huge smile on her face so I curl my lips into a teasing smile.

“Don’t think we played a part in little Michael’s conception Akko”

She pouts but then smiles towards me with a mischievous glint in her eyes

“Well technically we did though! If we hadn’t set up-“

“If you didn’t setup Andrew and Blair up you mean” I quipped back

“Don’t try to be coy with me Dia!” she flares up her nose and has a determined look on her face.

To be fair it was a team effort. Although it was Akko that started seducing me on the idea.

“I can assure you both are the guilty parties”

“Andrew!” we both said in unison.

“Auwntie Diana, auwntie Akko!” the little 3 year old comes running clumsily towards us, but stops from jumping on us, remembering the caution Andrew told him about Akko and the baby.

So he gingerly climbs on the couch right in the middle of both of us. We both proceed to give him a kiss on either check and he adorably goes into a giggling fit. This being so infectious we had a laughing spell as well in the process.

He is a precocious little boy, light brown hair and sea green eyes like his dad, his lighter hair color no doubt from his witch mother.

As much as I adore little Michael there is something to be said about someone just barging in

“I take it you forgot how a doorbell works Andrew?”

Akko doesn’t even bat an eye at us anymore and is too engrossed in playing patty cakes with Michael.

Although to be fair since Akko and Andrew ended up working so many years together in the liaison department they both had keys to each other’s house and long distance relationship for both Andrew and Akko with Blair and I bonded them more together.

Can’t say I’m not jealous by the time I couldn’t be there to keep Akko company, but we each have our own dreams and goals to work on, of course while supporting each other as well.

Also luckily we haven’t stayed apart ever since 1 year ago, hence why we decided to start a family.

“My apologies Diana. I did ring a few times, but since I got no answer I decided I would leave these fresh soursop and coconut water for Akko anyway since I though you guys might be asleep. Also Michael was being rather insistent on wanting to see both of you”

Akko looks up while continuing the patty cakes motion with Michael. She shoots Andrew a huge smile of gratitude and he nods in return.

She has been craving those particular food these past 3 weeks. Figures it would take something like pregnancy to make Akko have healthy and balanced eating habits.

I mean sure she instilled some nice eating habits into Akko and so did Andrew, Lotte and Ursula, bless them.

“Thank you this is very much appreciated” I direct towards Andrew with an amicable smile. All things considered Andrew and I have come a long way, in large part due to the lovely person I can amazingly enough call my wife.

“Think nothing of it. Blair also had a peculiar craving for exotic fruits so I frequented this particular fruit vendor. I had exchanged contact information back then, in case of any late night cravings or anything of that sort”

I offered Andrew to sit down on one of the other couches but he declined saying it’s already a bit passed Michael’s curfew and Blair will have his head.

So he proceeds to scoop Michael up while the boy protested, but you can see him starting to rub his eyes, trying to get the sleepiness out just so he can stay up a bit longer.

He gives us a wet cheek kiss each and a hug goodbye. Luckily Andrew doesn’t live far away from us so Blair shouldn’t be too angry.

Just as Andrew was about to leave the front door he turned around, Michael already dozing off in his arms.

“You know as much I was initially annoyed at both of you for the whole setting up scheme, I do have to say thank you for making this happen”

We smile, but Akko had a cheeky smile on. Goodness.

“No need to be so descriptive Andrew, that’s all you and Sarah. Also the kids’ right there, have some decency” Akko deadpans.

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Goodnight Atsuko, Diana” smirks as he closes the door behind him.

“It’s Akko. We’ve known each other for almost 15 years. You did that on purpose Hanbridge” Akko mutters, although I’m sure she would’ve said in high volume if a slumbering Michael wasn’t present.

“Let’s go to bed” I pass a soothing arm on her back. Akko leans into my touch.

“Mhmm…kay....Di…I love you”

I swear those words coming from her never gets old, if anything my heart swells even more every time I hear it now as impossible as that might seem.

“Love you too Akko”

So we head up to bed. Having Michael over I’m sure has made us looking even more forward to have a giggling child of our own. We already have laughter, crying and playing around here, with Akko its hard not to after all, but adding another member to our family sure feels lovely.

[afy2018]

A Roll in the Hay Chapter 1

A crack of a bright light broke out through the flats lands of the large farm. The bright rays cut into a small house. One young woman awoke, the new day shining through the curtains. She opened her eyes slowly, the blurry film still covering her sleepy eyes. The other woman in the room, however, was still sound asleep in her bed. As usual, the younger woman stood up and walked over to her sister, kicking the mattress.

The older sibling groaned, fully waking after the 3rd kick. “HEY!”

“It’s time to wake up, Wynonna.” She informed.

“Too fucking early.”

“Same time as always.”

“Still too early, Waves.”

Wynonna sighed and grabbed her pants from the night before, yanking them on while she walked into the small closet to grab a shirt and bra. She stretched and went to the bathroom to get ready. Waverly followed the first part but then went downstairs to get breakfast ready for her and the farmhands. She got out the deer bacon strips and began to cook them, turning around when she saw Dolls come up from his and Doc’s basement room.

“Smells good, need any help?” He asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, can you go grab the milk and water from the fridge?”

“Of course, anything else, Miss Earp?”

“Ugh, I hate that title, just call me Waverly.”

“Okay, anything else though?”

“Yes, can you wake up Doc, I need him to do a quick check on the goats to make sure they're okay. I noticed them calling late at night more often than usual.”

“Okay.” He said walking down to tell his co-worker.

Waverly sighed and cleared her throat, flipping the bacon onto a plate before moving onto the next piece of the meal, English muffins. She placed them in the oven and baked them lightly before she got out the butter and set all the food on the table with four plates. She turned back around and grabbed the bowl of fruit from the window sill, placing it on the table as well. Wynonna walked down stairs and stretched.

“The blueberries look almost ready. Same as the strawberries.”

“Peaches and cherries.”

“Peaches are nowhere close, same as the cherries. They need maybe another two weeks to be really ready for picking.”

“Did we ever get a claim on the job posting?”

“I don't know… maybe.” Her sister shrugged.

“Great.”

“What was with the goats?”

“Already have Doc checking on them.”

“Good,” Wynonna said. As she turned around she smiled. “Looks great, need any help?”

“Just tell the boys breakfast is ready.”

“Yokkie-done.” She said walking down to the basement.

Doc moved out of the way for the older Earp and looked at Waverly. “Waverly.” He greeted, tilting his hat.

Doc walked out of the house to the barn where the goats all were. Dolls came up with Wynonna. They all sat down at the table and began to take a bit of their food. Wynonna smiled and licked her lips, taking a piece of bacon and grabbing a few of the cut up nectarines and an English muffin. She began to eat while the others started to dig in as well, leaving enough for Doc. The mustachioed gentleman came back, sitting down with the rest.

“Didn't see anything outta the ordinary. All of them are still there, Earps.”

“Okay, thank you,” Waverly said to the older man.

“I heard we were getting a new farmhand. Any ideas?”

“We haven't gotten anything yet. Because of the latest crops, Dolls, you’re moving to the arbory, Wynonna in the greenhouse, and I’ll work in the fruit crop field. The newbie will work in the grass field and fetch water.”

“Okay, so I’m still with the goats?” Doc asked

“Yeah, you remind them of their fellow brothers and sisters.” Wynonna quipped.

He gave her a faux smiled and looked back at his meal. After they all finished, Dolls and Wynonna cleaned up while the other two began to the fields/ barn. Waverly grabbed the large baskets from the doorway and left the rest for Dolls. She went out to towards the rising sun, checking the crops. Wynonna was right, the blueberries were almost ready. She began to pick off the ones that were ripe, leaving the ones that were too purple/pink. She got maybe 103 berries from this picking, making it now only barely over two fifths of the projected yield so far, but good for midseason. She brought went back through, checking to make sure she got the best ones. Waverly walked over to the homestead again, walking around back to their cooling room. She came back inside, checking the time. Two hours. She sighed and washed the blueberry juice off of her hands. A knock on the door broke her stream of thought. Waverly walked over, thinking it was Dolls or Wyn going to the bathroom. She opened the door for them, surprised to meet the shoulders of a taller, paler woman. She looked up and met the kind brown eyes of a redheaded woman.

“Hi.” Waverly greeted.

“Hi. I’m here about the farmhand work? I’m Nicole Haught.”

“Haught? Oh, sorry, wasn't expecting anyone. Come in.” Waverly beckoned.

The taller woman took off her thin jacket, holding it as she followed the owner inside. She looked around, smiling at the beautiful quaintness. They both sat down before Waverly began to question her.

“Really? I called yesterday morning? Are you Miss Wynonna Earp?” She asked politely.

“Oh, no. I’m her sister Waverly. She must have forgotten. Anyway, we plan to have you do mainly prep work for us, working the grass fields to prepared for the harsh winters. Help out goat handler, fetch water for the crops and animals. Are you living here or off-site?”

“Off-site. What would my hours be?”

“7am-5pm, 8 hours of work with two one hour breaks whenever, Monday thru Friday. Pay will be $13.60 per hour, so $748 by the end of the week.”

“Sounds great. So, where do I sign and when do I begin?”

“Work begins in for days. We’ll need a day to file the paperwork and get it approved.”

“Okay.”

Waverly smiled and walked off to grab the employment papers from Wynonna’s desk. She returned to the table, sitting down.

“You’re not a murderer right?” Waverly asked jokingly.

“Well… no.”

Waverly smiled and handed the paper over, sliding the pen to her new employee. She watched the young woman intently read the contract before signing with her neat a curly name. ‘Nicole Haught. Still can't believe it. Haught. Perfect name’ Waverly thought. Nicole sat back up straight and gave Waverly the paper back.

“Thank you. You won't regret this.” Nicole said with a genuine smile.

“We need another girl on the team. Even better when there’s someone as muscled as you. Have you worked a farm before?”

“Yup, an old ranch I grew up on with my brother and grandmother. I worked there until I was 19.”

“What animals?”

“Horse care and two fowls. Chickens and geese.”

“Perfect,” Waverly whispered with a wide grin.

Waverly watched as the young woman walked out of the house. She opened the door for the taller woman and smiled. She looked outside to catch her sister gawking over a bike outside of the homestead. Nicole looked at her, squinting to see who it was.

“That’s Wynonna.” Waverly introduced.

The older sister looked up. “Who’s bike is this?” She asked.

“Mine,” Nicole answered.

“This. Is. Beautiful. Where’d you get this, what’s her name, how much was it?”

“Detroit, America. Black Beauty, or Beauty. About 1,700 US.”

“Oh my god. Wait, why Detroit?”

“Cheaper from the source.”

“Hmm,” Wynonna answered, looking at the shiny black bike. “Impressive. Hired.”

“Oh I’m-”

“A little sarcasm, she’s just being a technophilia.” Waverly interrupted.

“Okay.” Nicole chuckled.

She smiled as she watched the older woman look at the beautiful bike. Nicole put on her helmet and mount it.

“See you Monday boss,” Nicole said, starting the bike and driving off.

“We need to file that paperwork now,” Wynonna said.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561388/chapters/25968828

[glassmaker04]

[Fic] Fragments of Memories

Title: Fragments of Memories

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Pairing: Erasermight l Allmight x Eraserhead / Yagi Toshinori x Aizawa Shouta

Warning: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Notes: Still waiting for AO3′s invitation T^T. Sorry for the delay, many things came up this week and I didn’t have enough time to sit down and write (even sleep...) but here it is! Please enjoy!

Thank you everyone who’s reading. I’m appreciated.

Ps. I’m not a English speaker. I’m sorry in advance for wrong grammars.

Part 3: Old routine, New routine

Toshinori’s Memories

Yagi Toshinori had a very simple routine. Woke up at 6, showered, dressed, ate at 7, went to work at a local cafe. His shift was 9am-5pm, ate lunch with coworkers, did his duties, went to supermarket before going home, made dinner, ate alone, read a bit or watched the news and went to bed. These had repeated 2 years now, he didn’t complain about his life. He was contented.

But deep down, he was lonely...truly lonely.

But after he met Aizawa 3 weeks ago, his routine had completely changed. He woke up at 6, fed Maru (Aizawa insisted keeping Maru, no handing to the Adoption center like he planned to.), showered, dressed, cooked for 2 and packed a lunch for Aizawa (Aizawa still couldn’t move around much), ate with Aizawa while they had small conversation, went to work, ate lunch with coworkers before checking on Aizawa by phoned, did his duties, went to supermarket, made dinner (with sounds of the news Aizawa’s watching), ate with Aizawa and Maru, talked to Aizawa or read a book while Aizawa’s working on his computer (very confusing with codes) and slept (Aizawa insisted slept on the sofa).

Everything he did now had Aizawa in it. He’s not alone like he used to.

Even Though he was well aware of Aizawa’s past. He could tell by his guts that Aizawa would bring bad news to him but he didn’t care. He liked talking to the young man. He was smart, quick-wit, had a strange sense of humor and a soft heart under his cold appearance.

He felt complete when Aizawa’s around him.

After the despaired accident, finally he was happy...truly happy.

“Umm, is that my coffee?” a lady customer asked when Toshinori held her cup too long. Toshinori blinked couple times, realizing he just lost in his thoughts.

“Oh sorry! here you are.” the barista gave a fake smile, felt embarrassed.

“Oi Toshinori, what’s on your mind? You’ve been distracted many times lately.” his coworker, Nishiya Shinji, used his elbow teasing him a bit.

“Nothing.” Toshinori felt his face was warmer, tried to keep himself busy as best as he could. He automatically mixed a next order.

“Ahh~ Have you been dating with someone?” another woman, Takeyama Yu, glared at the older man with her watchful eyes.

“No! absolutely not.” Toshinori surely felt the rushing warm both on his cheeks and chest. It was hard to hide his face.

“Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen you calling and talking very sweet to someone after lunch, Aiko or something.” Yu blurted out, almost spilled the drink she’s making.

“I didn’t do that! His name’s Aizawa-kun and he’s staying with me. I just wanted to check on him if he eats on time.” Toshinori’s trying so hard to keep compose even though he wasn’t good at it.

“By calling everyday? Is he your...son?” Shinji asked this time, eyes still locked at his older coworker, never knew that the man was married.

“No, I don’t have one. He’s...he’s my cousin.” Toshinori lied. The first time in so many years.

“Oh? I thought you don’t have any relatives.” Yu said, handed the drink to the customer.

“He just moved in.” Toshinori finished his drink and handed to customer as well. He hurried to the counter.

“Next, please.” He said quickly the to next customer in the line. His other two coworkers knew immediately that this conversation had ended.

“Okay, I’m not gonna buy that Toshinori-san. I know it when you’re lying.” Shinji said while Yu made a small laugh. Toshinori pretended he didn’t hear that.

As usual, Toshinori did call Aizawa between lunch break. He hid himself in the back of the cafe, made sure that no one saw him this time. His long thump dialed to the younger man at his home quickly, never knew he had a smile on his lips.

“Hello Aizawa-kun, how are you doing?”

/Same...bored and sleepy./ a mumble sound answering at the end of the line made Toshinori smiled wider.

“Did you eat lunch yet?”

/Not yet but soon, don’t worry. What about you? Have you coughed? I heard you coughed last night though, didn’t want to ask in the morning while you seemed to enjoy humming in the kitchen./

“I’m fine! Haven’t co-” didn’t even finish the sentence. The older man bloody cough through the phone.

/Ah, I should talk to Chiyo-san tonight. She’s coming, isn’t she?/ Toshinori cleared his throat before saying.

“Yes, she’s coming to see your wound though, not mine.”

/I still want to talk to her./  

“Haha, thank you Aizawa-kun. You’re kind.” the younger man was quiet a couple minutes before answering.

/...No, I just want my beauty sleep. You’ve kept me waking up at night./ a soft voice sounded cold, but Toshinori still felt warm in his chest.

Aizawa-kun, you’re really carring inside.

“Don’t forget to eat lunch then. It’s your favorite salmon.”

/I will, Yagi-san./

“Oh, I’ll stopped by a mall before heading home. Do you need more clothes? Or anything else?”

/No, thank you. I bought me too many things I need including this mobile phone./

“Really? I thought it too few.” there was a beat from the end of the line, then Aizawa said.

/Just come home quickly, so I’m not bored and hungry./ somehow that cold tone made Toshinori smiling wider than before. He unconsciously play with his bangs hair.   

“Hahaha, I will Aizawa-kun. I will.”

/See you then, bye./ with that, Aizawa hung up. Toshinori looked at his phone and already felt the drum sound pounding inside.

Come home…

“You’re really nice, Aizawa-kun.” He muttered to himself, a small smile still on his lips.

After his shift ended, Toshinori hurried to the mall and bought things from supermarket. There were enough for two people, beef, vegetables, toothpaste, shampoo, soap and oh! cats food. Of course, he had to paid double but he didn’t care. He actually felt good about it.

When Toshinori walked back, humming along the way, he saw his apartment from afar. The light from his room was on. The tall man had stopped both of walking and humming, stunned. He just blinked hard before looked at that light for a long long time as if he never saw his own apartment before. A warm and longing feeling swirled inside his body, rushing through his spine like the electricity. Suddenly he felt whole and complete like he truly belonged here for the first time.

So this is what it’s like, when you had someone’s waiting for you.

“I’m home.” Toshinori opened the front door, greeted by a purr sound from Maru who already tangled his legs.

“You’re late!” Aizawa shouted from the living room. Toshinori let out a laugh before apologising to the young man. His heart’s full of warmness while listening a long complaint from the younger man. It was the best thing ever happened in his life.

“Why you’re laughing!? There’s nothing funny!”

“You’re funny, Aizawa-kun.” Toshinori smiled wider, dodged a pillow from Aizawa and finally put a pink arporn on, began to prepare their dinner.

If his life’s going to be like this everyday, he could live with it.

He could live with Aizawa-kun like this.

He couldn’t think of something or someone else...

.

.

.

.

Shouta’s Memories

The black hair man was running fast on a road, almost spilled his coffee. He looked down at his watch every 2 minutes, checking if he could make it in time. Aizawa Shouta was never ever late and he was proud of that fact. There was no way that today could ruin his reputation. He gasped hard when he reached the school’s gate before walking in with other students.

Some students greeted him, a bit of scared. He only nodded his head back to them, eyes blinked blanky while wondered what classes he taught them (maths or physic?). Shouta’s still working on memorizing his students even though he mostly forgot at the end of the day. This was a part of his job now. He was alright with it.

When thinking back, Shouta’s old life was like a dream. Working at a software company almost 24 hours a day, he barely ate or slept. Even on the weekend, he opened his computer and worked, worked, worked. He was fine with it, got a good salary and OT. He liked being busy anyway.

Yet he was lonely...very lonely.

Something was missing...

“That’s it for today, I would like you all to do the exercises from page 45 to 50. Hand me next class.” Shouta said quickly while gathering all his notes and exercise sheets, pretended not to hear cry voice from the students.

“Sensei! Let me help you carry these.” a green hair boy spoke up, beside him was a boy worn glasses. Shouta glared at them, thinking hard.

Red shoes...Midoriya Izuku

Glasses boy...Iida Tenya

“Thanks...Mi...Midoriya...Ii...Iida.” He almost whispered the boys name which just made both of them looked at him with wider eyes.

“Your welcome Sensei!” two students suddenly shouted. Shouta felt his face was warmer, then he rushed to the door.   

Shouta didn’t expect to see the happy face from his students. While he’d worked at the software company, he didn’t care much about his coworkers. He only talked to them about works, nothing else. He didn’t care how their life was nor their faces. But here in UA, he somehow felt that it was very important to get to know all the kids to, of course, improve their calculating foundations.

“You did care for them, Shouta!” his friend, Mic or Yamada Hizashi had said to him on the third day of his teaching when he saw Shouta read through all the names list in teacher lounge.

“I don’t, just don’t want to see them fail the final exam.” he answered with cold voice.

“Ahhh~ Finally done of the day~” as soon as Shouta walked in the teacher room, he heard his friend whined.

“Thank you, you two.” Shouta said as the kids put down his papers on the desk. The boys said goodbye before left the room. Mic grinned after saw that little scene.

“You’re improving! Nice to see that.” Shouta glared, hated that face.

“Shut it.”

Yamada Hizashi, aka Mic, was Shouta’s friend from University. They incidentally had the same English class in his first year and this man had never left him alone since then.

“You’re done? Wanna get a drink?”

“No, I’m going to grade these papers and then I’ll go home.”

“Ahhh~ home, you say?” Mic just gave that stupid grinned which Shouta hated.

“Shut it!”     

Shouta didn’t know how his life was like this. Woke up at 6.30, showered and dressed, bought coffee and some pastries on a way to school. Be at his desk at 8am sharp, ate breakfast while memorizing all the teachers from his notebook before read through his schedule and teaching plan, prepared his lesson and went to class, had lunch with Mic and Nemuri, had afternoon class, graded papers and went home.

Well, he didn’t exactly head home, he dropped by a homey restaurant ‘Allmight Alright!’ at 7pm sharp. He’d done this 3 weeks now, just to order his favorite grilled salmon set. Shouta’s somehow familiar with the test and he loved it.

And that man was there…

Before Shouta knew what’s happening around him, he was already in front of Allmight Alright!. He stood there, looked at the sign and wondered what kept him coming back.

Yagi-san was here.

Shouta saw the older man’s speaking with his student, Midoriya, seriously instructing something to the boy. The teacher’s looking at them with awe, still wondering if he could talk to man. He didn’t want to admit that he liked talking to the older man...very much. Yagi was nice, warm heart and very caring to others. Sometimes, Shouta felt nostalgic being around with Yagi even though the older man said they knew each other very briefly 10 years ago.

“Welcome sensei!” a girl greeted him by surprised made him jumped a bit.

“You can call me Aizawa-san when we’re out of school...U...Uraraka, right?”

“Yes! Aizawa-sensei!” Ochako eagerly answered with smile. Shouta let out a soft sigh when he heard ‘Sensei’ word. Ochako turned around and saw that his usual seat was taken.

“Umm…do you mind sitting a differ-” suddenly a new voice cut the girl, made the teacher turned his head.

“I’ll take care of it, Uraraka-kun” suddenly a new low voice spoke from behind.

Shouta’s stunned, froze when saw a man with a warm smile on his face. He somehow forgot how to breath near the owner of Allmight Alright! He didn’t know why and he didn’t intend to get the answer, not yet.

“Yes owner!” Ochako gave a bow before left the two.

“Welcome back Aizawa-kun”

“Hello, Yagi-san.”

“Looks like it’s crowded today. You can go eating in my office if you like.” Yagi-san pointed at the back, already knew what Shouta would prefer.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course! I offer and the salmon is ready!”

Shouta hid his face and said thank you softly, a little bit embarrassed. He followed the taller man to his little office in the back. Yagi’s office was just like what Shouta had thought. Inside the small room, there was a long table in the corner, pile of papers and a computer on it. Beside that was a window and a long vest of sunflowers. In the center was a square table and chairs, assuming they had to be for staff taking breaks. Overall, the room felt welcome and humble with pictures of natures and staff on the wall along with a schedule board.

Unlike his room, minimum and bare, almost nothing in it.

“Sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t be. It’s nice in here.” Shouta settled down at the square table while Yagi sat at his spot near by computer.

Midoriya came in with a tray, putting down in front of the teacher. Shouta said thank you softly which made the boy almost shouted ‘You’re welcome!’ back. After the boy left, Yagi laughed a bit.

“I don’t see it funny Yagi-san.”

“Sorry, Midoriya-boy couldn’t stop talking about you since he’s been here. He almost bumped into customers earlier.”

“What do you mean?” Shouta looked up from his dinner, chopsticks in his hand.

“You remember his name, right? He told me today.” Yagi smiled from his corner lips.

“I...I remember his shoes...and his name popped up later.” Shouta knew he was stared by the older man, so he tried to hide his face by his messy hair.

“Well, I can see it’s working, whatever methods you’re using right now.”

Shouta just hummed back as ended this conversation. Yagi might took a hint and he turned back to work on his computer while Shouta’s pretending eating. The younger man peeked a bit from corner of his eyes. Yagi was typing something very fast, stopped at some point and typed again.

The room was quiet, only typing sound on the background. No one started making a conversation, just relaxed being with one another in a comfortable silent and that. That made Shouta realized...hard. His eyes widen a bit while holding chopsticks.

This...this was the wholeness and serenity swirling around him.     

His heart beated faster once he felt the warmness flushing inside his chest. It was a nostalgic feeling like he was in this atmosphere before, only him and Yagi sat together in one room doing something in completely silent.

He felt complete when Yagi was near.

“Yagi-san.” Shouta suddenly spoke softly.

“Hmm?” Yagi stopped typing and turned around. The teacher put down his chopsticks, only finished half of a meal.

“Do you mind if I’ll eat here again?” the younger man asked, black pupils directly looked at the blue ones.

“No, I don’t. Feel free to be here anytime Aizawa-kun.” Yagi answered immediately without thinking.  

“Thank you.”

With that, they continued doing their task in silent again. Shouta was eating while Yagi was typing. The teacher closed his eyes and realized that it was the first time in many years that he smiled to himself, enjoying eating and listening the typing sound. He felt truly relaxed, his brain didn’t think about work anymore, only focus on the soothing typing sound and Yagi’s presence.

So this is what it’s like, when you had someone near you.

Shouta didn’t know how much time had passed until Midoriya and Uraraka came back into the room with their snacks, taking their break. They sat opposite Shouta and began to talk to him. It was strange for him yet he’s okay with that. He didn’t flinch or hesitate to talk back. He even curved up his lips a bit when saw the two talked seriously about the upcoming math test.

When Shouta turned his head, he saw Yagi smiled at him. That blue eyes sparkled so bright melting his heart with the owner’s kindness. Shouta only shrugged, tried to ignore what his students had said how scared the test would be. After awhile, Shouta finished his meal and paid in the front before leaving.

“See you tomorrow, Aizawa-kun” Yagi said to him in front of the restaurant.

“See you, Yagi-san.” Shouta nodded.

“See you at school, Sensei!” Midoriya and Uraraka shouted together from the back.

“Don’t forget to do homework.” The teacher shouted back, turning to leave. His hand did wave in the air after turning to leave.  

If his life’s going to be like this everyday, he could live with it.

Yes...He could live with his students, his friends and Yagi-san like this.

He couldn’t think of something or someone else.

To be continue...

[uk-news-talking-politics]

'Despair' the greatest obstacle to a Biden presidency

By Dorian Lynskey

Last month, a Politico reporter attended a brunch for around 40 affluent black professionals in the Detroit suburb of Grosse Pointe Woods and spent six hours talking about the presidential election. Every single person there expected Donald Trump to win in November because Republicans would turn out and Democrats wouldn’t, even though all of them personally planned to show up for Joe Biden. “I’m going to vote,” said one woman. “But Trump’s getting back in office either way.”

On 24 June, a few days after the brunch, a New York Times Upshot poll gave Biden an extraordinary 14-point lead over Donald Trump, with gains in every demographic, turning red states purple and purple states blue while endangering the Republicans’ Senate majority. There hasn’t been a summer polling margin this wide since 1996, when Bill Clinton eventually thumped Bob Dole by carrying 31 states, and no candidate has hit 50% since Ronald Reagan in 1984, prior to his 49-state demolition of Walter Mondale. In the latest credible polls, Biden’s lead ranges from 5-17 points.

On paper, this seems obvious. Biden is facing a weak and erratic President who has bungled his response to both coronavirus and the Black Lives Matter protests, lost the strong economy that he inherited from Barack Obama, and never seen his approval rating exceed 50%, even during the initial rally-around-the-flag phase of the pandemic that favoured incumbents around the world. So why do so many people find it so hard to accept that Trump is exceedingly likely to lose?

Well, for the same reason that I just replaced “will” with “overwhelmingly likely to”. Britain has just marked the fourth anniversary of the EU referendum, which saw nationalist populism drive a horse and cart through liberal orthodoxies. Trump’s much more shocking victory in November completed 2016’s double whammy and the liberal left has not yet recovered from that compound trauma. By trampling long-held assumptions about political behaviour into the dirt, it created a terrible new form of received wisdom: What’s the worst that can happen? Bet on that. I’ve seen numerous friends confidently predict that Trump will either win or refuse to accept defeat, offering no evidence except their pessimism.

Writing in the New Statesman recently, Andrew Marr warned against “the ‘now-next illusion’ — the trap of thinking that today’s vivid headlines are a good guide to the near future”. Criticising the American intellectual James Burnham 74 years earlier, George Orwell noted the same tendency among political “prophets” who believed that whatever was happening at the time of writing would continue to happen, only moreso: “Burnham sees the trend [towards oligarchy] and assumes that it is irresistible, rather as a rabbit fascinated by a boa constrictor might assume that a boa constrictor is the strongest thing in the world.” Since 2016, right-wing populism has been our boa constrictor and its face is that of Donald Trump. This strong bias towards pessimism has survived even the Democrats’ impressive gains in the 2018 midterms, when the Trump playbook demonstrably failed. For Britons, watching the campaign in the aftermath of a Tory landslide and exit from the EU, it is even harder to think positive. Psychologically, we are still fighting the last war.

Let us look at the evidence. Trump is exactly the President that his fiercest critics said he would be: unstable, incurious, petty, vindictive, paranoid, ignorant and inept. Whenever a major test has come along, he has flunked it. While his base remains fanatically loyal (though apparently incapable of filling an arena in Oklahoma), this historically unpopular president has shown no ability to expand it, nor even retain his winning coalition, because he is utterly incapable of not doing the things that alienate people. Millions of Americans hate him like they have never hated anyone before, while many of the voters who took a punt on him despite their reservations, because they hated Hillary Clinton, or hoped that he would rise to the occasion, are tired of him turning the country into 24/7 rolling chaos. They know what another four years of Trump would look like. One plank of his campaign, the economy, has been snatched away by Covid-19 while another, racial grievance wrapped in the tissue paper of law and order, has proved limited in the face of Black Lives Matter’s popularity. Lest we forget, even though it feels like several years ago, he is one of only four presidents ever to be impeached.

His opponent, meanwhile, is perennially underrated. As Bernie Sanders discovered, Biden’s hold on key demographics, notably older black voters, is ultimately undiminished by his low-key campaigning style and occasional blunders. That’s how he went from clear favourite to underdog to comeback kid. If Biden does not generate great excitement, then nor does he inspire intense hatred, as Hillary Clinton did. He made few enemies as Barack Obama’s genial vice president; Sanders himself is personally fond of the man. Neither his son Hunter’s business dealings in Ukraine, nor former staffer Tara Reade’s sexual harassment allegations, have damaged him. Claims that Biden is suffering from cognitive decline (as opposed to continuing a tradition of gaffes that goes back to the 1980s) backfired in his final debate with Sanders by setting the bar too low. The more people say that he is sleepy and doddery (a risky line of attack for the increasingly incoherent Trump), the less he has to do to appear impressive. His responses to Covid-19 and Black Lives Matter have struck the right tone of compassion and competence at a time when the White House offers neither.

Now, only a fool would say that it’s impossible for Trump to win. Perhaps Biden isn’t Clinton in ’96 but Michael Dukakis in ’88, whose substantial lead in early summer evaporated by the autumn. The polls will inevitably narrow. Perhaps he will make a truly disastrous mistake, or fall foul of a scandal that we cannot foresee. Perhaps disillusioned members of the Democratic base will be unpersuaded that the difference between Biden and Trump is substantial enough to get them to the polling booth. Beyond the standard electoral potholes, there are valid concerns about Trump using voter suppression, mass disinformation, and, if the election result comes down to the wire, legal challenges in order to remain in office, although it is worth reassuring anxious friends that constitutionally he cannot simply cancel the election, nor refuse to step down if he is defeated. He may have the instincts of a tyrant but not the power.

Complacency duly guarded against, the smart money is on Trump losing in November, but this is where the trauma of 2016 raises its head. The polls weren’t wrong: it really was extremely unlikely that he would win, and Hillary Clinton really did win the popular vote, and yet 77,774 votes in the right districts of the right three states gave Trump the presidency. But just because an improbable thing has happened once, it doesn’t mean that an even more improbable thing will happen next time. Remember everything that had to go wrong for a much more divisive Democratic candidate, with a narrower lead and a more hostile media, to lose in 2016. If populism’s opponents used to be far too complacent, then we are now too neurotic – prone to seeing a flailing mess of a political project as an unstoppable force. Fear should inspire Trump’s opponents to vote, campaign and fundraise with electric urgency but despair will not. Despair is the greatest obstacle that Biden needs to overcome.

There are countless reasons to want Biden to decisively rout Trump in November. The one that matters whether or not you live in the US is the opportunity to finally provide catharsis for the trauma of 2016. It wouldn’t instantly heal America or purge the poison of white nationalism. I don’t even know what kind of president Biden would be, except a better one. Still, a result that proved that anger, resentment and race-baiting aren’t enough, that flagrant lying can only go so far, that populism is not unbeatable, that the laws of political gravity haven’t been permanently suspended, would go a long way to rescuing us all from the nightmare land of anything-can-happen in which we have been living for the past four years. We’ve spent too long feeling like Orwell’s rabbit, hypnotised by the boa constrictor. If nothing else, a Trump defeat would break the spell.

Dorian Lynskey writes about politics and culture for titles including the Guardian, Observer, GQ and New Statesman. He is the author of 33 Revolutions Per Minute: A History of Protest Songs and The Ministry of Truth: A Biography of George Orwell's 1984. He co-hosts the Remainiacs and Bunker podcasts. You can follow him on Twitter here.

[kiraririn]

Common Route: Scene 1 - Underworld Briefing, 1972 words

I posted this before, but I fixed and changed some things

[next]

Scene 1C – Underworld Briefing

INSIDE HOUSE

While tossing and turning in bed, as I try to get a more sufficient amount of rest with difficulty, a loud knock on the door rudely interrupts. I sandwich my head with pillows and stay in bed, hoping that the knocks go away, but whoever is at the door greatly persists.

With an exasperated sigh, I drag my feet toward the door across the room. When I open the door, my close friend Cornelius greets me with his usual carefree smile, a small burlap sack in his hands.

Carefree co “Morning, Claudius!”

I can’t say I’m terribly happy to see him. I let out a groan before responding.

Sleepy mc “Don’t you know what time it is, Cornelius?”

Carefree co “Only a couple of hours or so before the exam, if I remember correctly.”

At this point, my annoyance rouses me into a state of wakefulness.

Cold mc “Only a couple of hours? That was an extra hour of sleep you robbed from me.”

With a single finger raised, he smugly objects.

Smug co “Now, let’s not fool ourselves here, Claudius. We both know that would have been an unproductive hour of thrashing about with little amount of proper rest gained”

Though I felt the temptation to slam the door in his face, I knew full well I wasn’t going to be getting anymore rest anyway, now that I’m fully awake, so I begrudgingly step aside to let Cornelius in as always.

I extend my hand toward a seat at a small table, and Cornelius takes a seat and makes himself at home.

Thoughtful mc “(It might as well be his home, judging from the amount of time he spends here.)”

A yawn escapes from my mouth when I take a seat across from him, and he yawns as well. The contagious yawn must have been a source of amusement, as he lets out a short laugh.

Sleepy mc “(I wonder if he’s well-rested.)”

Cornelius grabs some foodstuff; cheese, bread, an apple, and a container of braised cave mushrooms out of his bag.

This may seem hardly much from the perspective of a surface dweller, but it’s quite a catch in the cavernous Underworld.

Cornelius gets me rare food, largely unavailable to someone of our social status, from time to time. I’m curious as to how he manages to acquire these items, but deep down I know I may not like the answer. He might decline to tell anyway for all I know.

I set my previous thoughts aside and focus on what is in front of me. The sight of good food dissipates my feelings of vexation and coaxes me into politeness.

Joyful mc “Thank you as always, Cornelius!”

Cornelius chuckles pleasantly.

Joyful co “Anything for a friend.”

I dig in, eating the cheese along with the bread, and chowing down the mushrooms afterwards, making an effort to give myself time to appreciate the delicious taste. As I finally start to eat the apple, I question him.

Solemn mc “Now why are you here?”

It’s not that I feel that he has ulterior motives of the unscrupulous kind, but he has a mysterious way of showing up at pivotal moments of my life, often with some kind of solution.

Carefree co “Is it so bad to want to see off my friend before he starts his grand, life changing journey?”

Smug co “And treat him to some good food while I’m at it?”

Solemn mc “Well, no, but I have a feeling that’s not the only reason why you’re here.”

Carefree co “True, true. I came here to give you this.”

[SHOW ORB]

Cornelius digs into his bag once again and produces a mysterious, opaque blue orb about the size of a marble.

He extends the orb to me with his palm up and speaks in a faux upper class tone.

Joyful co “For your journey, sir.”

I finish my apple and put the remaining core aside.

Thoughtful mc “…”

A frown forms on my face as I focus on the object. The orb is what is called a magic marble. They contain magic that can be unleashed by crushing it, generally thrown at a hard surface. I don’t know what this orb can accomplish, but the color suggests that it’s from the school of manipulation, out of the four schools of manipulation, manifestation, divination, and flight.

I raise an eyebrow.

mc “A magic marble of some purpose?”

co “Correct!”

mc “I can’t take this. If they find it on me I’ll surely fail the exam. No magical items, remember?”

[HIDE ORB]

Carefree co “Then don’t get caught. Have I ever been wrong?”

I confide in my problems with Cornelius often, and he is absolutely right so often to the point of it becoming uncanny.

Noticing that he didn’t even make an attempt to tell me what it does, I come to the conclusion that it is some kind of contraband. The lower class masses are only allowed to own magic marbles of trivial effect.

Solemn mc “I can’t.”

Cold mc “I’m sorry but it’s principle. You know I’m not one to break rules.”

Cornelius smiles wryly and replies with utmost sincerity.

Wry co “You’re right. I’m sorry I even asked.”

Worry co “It’s just- I’m worried. It’s a dangerous place out there. Anything can happen.”

A twinge of irritation ripples within me. I don’t want to be told such a thing from someone who has never been outside in the surface world either.

co “You haven’t even developed your intuition yet. You’re at such a disadvantage.”

His words make my blood boil.

Intuition is every subterrestrial’s sixth sense. Every subterrestrial but me. Being labelled as a late bloomer is such an embarrassment. I’m an adult lacking what every teen has. It makes me feel that I’ve long fallen behind.

I’ve started to cope with such a terrible fact, but it still stings to be put down in such a way, especially by my only friend who should be plentifully aware of my feelings on this. I can’t help but lash out.

Anger mc “I know that! Why do you think I’ve been studying all these years for? I’ve read tomes upon tomes. Unlike some carefree imp here.”

Furious mc “I know plenty about surface affairs.”

co “And what if that’s not enough?”

Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Furious mc “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. You disturb my sleep, and now you’re belittling me. It’s about time you leave.”

I point at the door and make my point final.

Worry co “…”

He leaves quietly, leaving the magic marble behind, and makes one last glance before shutting the door with care.

And now there is silence.

I let out a deep sigh and begin preparations for my exam.

Cold mc “(I’ll show them all. I’ll pass the caste exam. I’ll prove my worth to the State. Today marks the last day of my dreary life as a mere commoner.)”

Time quickly passes and I eventually simmer down.

I’ve gotten my things together. Clothes and not much else since I am to receive other provisions from the instructor.

Before I leave, I glance at the orb. Self-doubt causes me to briefly consider.

The moment doesn’t last for long, and I chuckle bitterly.

Wry mc “(Of course not.)”

I finally leave my pitiful dwelling, and the cool, dimly lit Underworld greets me.

UNDERWORLD

I walk at a brisk pace and think back to the events that took place earlier.

I feel guilty for blowing up. He really was trying to help and his worries were legitimate. I’m really not capable in the magical and intuitive sense.

The incubus caste I belong to isn’t necessarily bad. The more powerful ones do important work, skillfully manipulating those they’ve charmed. The problem is I barely qualify.

My aptitude test scores are deplorable, and I don’t even have the intuition to make up for it. It’s all a total mess.

The silver lining behind all this is that mind manipulation is half talent, half theory, and I’ve studied a lot. I wouldn’t say I know to the point of it being second nature, but I think it’s still a lot.

Either way, I truly hope it’s all enough for me to pass the caste exam. The exam is specifically tailored to test my skills as an incubus, and if I prove myself I’ll climb the ranks and enjoy more freedom, including better amenities. Like the delicious apple I had earlier. I can’t have enough of those.

More freedom. Better food. Better lodging. What’s not to like?

Well, aside for more responsibilities. It’s a given, though.

Wry Mc “(But whatever it is, it’s probably better than menial labor.)”

UNDERWORLD CLEARING

Before I know it, I arrive at my destination and make an unconscious sigh to ease the tension tugging deep within me.

Before long an unpleasant, familiar voice calls out to me.

Neutral in “Well look who’s here. It’s Mr. Magia. You know Mr. Magia, it’s not good to sigh all the time.”

Flustered mc “(I wish I had a different instructor.)”

His air of superiority has been a source of displeasure for some time, because of my lack of magical growth, no doubt.

I don’t get along with him at all, but I try to respond politely the best I can, after making an effort to create a false smile. He is of a higher status after all.

Wry mc “Sorry, sir.”

Neutral in “Try to keep that in mind.” in “Anyway, let’s not waste time and get started with the procedures.”

I nod as he grabs a divination rod, likely used to detect magic, and makes vertical sweeping motions around me. Of course, there is no reaction. The instructor nods to himself and puts the rod away.

With a clipboard in hand, he begins to quickly read off of it without raising his head to look at me a single time.

Looking in “Today marks the beginning of your caste exam.” in “You are responsible for captivating an individual and bringing him or her back to our Underworld in a state suited for the agent program, which will be the second part of your test.” in “You have five days to finish this task in whatever manner you see fit, so long as you keep your mission and identity as an Underworld citizen hidden from the surface dwellers. Do you understand?”

I can do it.

Solemn mc “Aye.”

Neutral in “Do you, Claudius Magia of caste incubus, agree to take upon this task and the responsibilities associated with it and prove your worth to the State?”

Solemn mc “Aye, sir.”

Neutral in “Now before you leave…”

He trails off and procures a red orb from his pocket, tossing it in his hand a few times.

In “Do stand still.”

Immediately after the command, he throws the magic marble at my feet, and it shatters.

I don’t feel any different.

In “There we go. A simple shapeshifting marble to disguise yourself as human. We can’t have you walking around the surface world with those pointy ears and horns. I’d offer a mirror, alas but I have none.”

The instructor gestures toward a lone rucksack placed on the ground.

Neutral in “Lastly, you are allowed to take a provisional sack. It contains rations, water, a knife, a map, a compass, written instructions, a sealed letter to your proctor, and some surface world currency.”

I take the sack, slinging it over my shoulder.

In “And now you may leave.”

As I leave, he speaks up one last time with the tip of his hat.

Neutral in “May you have a successful journey.”

I look back and return a nod before continuing.

[lageografiademicamino]

Every day is a Monday

As much as I’d love to tell you that so much has happened since my last post and this huge number of events is the reason why I haven’t updated this blog I’m afraid the situation is quite the opposite. I have been just really tired and unmotivated to write anything. So not much has evolved since my last post but I thought an update wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

I have started studing portuguese, probably the biggest change so far! And I’ve decided to take the local approach while doing it. SLOWLY. So far had only a few classes and I’m not being nearly as active during my free time as I would want to but I am building an idea in my head of how this language works. Many things are similar from other Latin languages since I’ve studied Spanish, Italian and French and then there are other things that are completely new and bizarre. And it is surprisingly hard to let go of the things that have become familiar to me in other languages. But in time.. #patience

I found my teacher Carla on Facebook. She’s a local, 30-somewhat-year-old kindergarden teacher who teaches portuguese for foreigners also. Many TP (teleperformance) employees as well. My employer does offer free language courses but since almost all employees come from somewhere else the classes are quite popular and waiting lists long (6 months in fact). So I thought I’d ”speed” things up.

Discovering music in portuguese...even though they’re from Brazil I think. 

This way of studying gives me also flexibility which I couldn’t have had while studying in a group even though it might have been cheaper. I usually have 1,5h lesson once a week so I’ll have time to do something else also during the week. Carla lives on top of many hills of Lisboa, somewhat in the old part of the town, at least compared to the area where I live. I just love to go to her house cause the streets are filled with tons of details, doors, walls, ghost house, local life without too many tourists.

To support my language learning I try to read the news in portuguese at least once a day and I’m also in search of PORTUGUESE pop music. Because music has been a huge help every time I’ve studied a foreign language. All I find is Brazilian artists, nothing wrong with them but I’m very picky about the pronunciation as I am at quite early stage of learning. Don’t wanna learn the wrong thing here. If you have any suggestions please don’t hesitate to tell me!

About differences between portuguese spoken in EU and overseas..

My weekly routine is a mixture of on-off routines… gym, yoga, tinder dates, couchsurfing events.. I’ve come to a habit of spending my Saturday evenings with a bunch of couchsurfers. Dinner and drinks – always having a good time. Besides of travelers there is quite an impressive number of locals being active also.

Tinder I use even less for a romantic purpose but I do use it. And I’ve had some pretty good friend dates. Even though you wouldn’t meet the person again it’s educating to hear different life stories and opinions. Especially when you’re a foreigner living in a new country. Great new areas, bars, cafes etc discovered through these! Have an open mind!

Pink street. Pretty touristic but a good selection of bars, live venues etc. I often end up here with couchsurfers..

I found a nice gym about 15min away from my place. Monthly fee is 30€ unless you sign a contract for a year when you pay 10€ less monthly. There’s also a female section separately which is not big but it’s calm and works for me. It’s cheap and you can notice it sometimes in the machines but like I said I manage. And it’s open 24h/7 so I don’t need to check the opening hours.

Banks and phones don’t still work the way I’d like them to but I have my Finnish ones so what the hell.. I try not to stress about things. Let them go on their pace and ignore the things I can’t control.

Flat stuff! Our laundry machine was broken for three weeks and when we finally got a guy to fix it – it took like 3min! So portuguese slow. Anyhow it works now which is amazing! Meanwhile I went to this self service laundry place around the block.

I’m starting to know Lisboa. The historical capital with obviously strong artistic vibe. Now and as in the past and probably in the future too. Almost every street, statue, square is named after a poet, writer, musician or an artist of some sort. Reading the history of the city opens up to me differently now when I can walk on the same streets and pass the buildings where this country was built, shaped and later on changed numerous times.

Financially I’m better here. I make pretty much the same money (after taxes and rent) as I did in Finland but with things being cheaper here - I’m more free here financially. My employer clearly has some sort of reputation here and the company is widely known but I don’t care what other people say. My experiences have only been positive so far. At least to compared to Finnish companies in a similar field there are many things to be grateful for. 

Work is allright. I still go there. Training has been over for quite some weeks now and officially I should be on some sort of pro-level. Mornings ain’t my favorites especially when they start so damn early. I wake up 4:30am to catch the local train at 5:44 and be at work 6:30am. There’s a lot spare time there but at that time of the day there aren’t much connections to choose from. But location-like I’m super lucky cause the train to work is the best and fastest option in the city. And my body has adjusted quite easily to the new rhythm and I’m pretty ready for the bed after 8:30pm. And it’s nice to skip the rush hours when coming and going though social life is hard to plan when you’re starting to get sleepy at dinner time (portuguese eat late).

EUROVISION IS APPROACHING!!! Anyhow here you can see my local train station, the shopping mall where I have my lunch sometimes, do my shopping and see the area in general where I go to work to every day..

Days vary and are colorful because of the people who call. Got some pretty legendary stuff already in good and bad. Some calls take a lifetime and others not. I get calls about 20-40 every day. Even though my job is to listen people complaining I still like it! I like to work with the hotels stuff, flight stuff and tourism stuff in general so it makes everything nicer. There are a lot of RULES because we work in a customer service, because we handle payments and refunds, because we work on the phones. I know they exist for a reason so I don’t mind.

Even though things don’t work always as I’d like them to or even understand why they are as they are, I am super grateful for the helpful co-workers around me though who have the patience to give me a hand every time I need it. Apparently I’ve done some sales also cause I won a competition on the other Monday. But still it’s gonna take a long time before I’m gonna feel being good at what I do.

Weather like..it’s still very summery here at least during the days almost reaching +30C every day. But mornings especially at the hour I wake up, are chilly sometimes even cold. My room is freezing with the +15 temperatures  during the nights and I was also sick on the other weekend. Not much rain thouh. Yet. 

I’m actually looking forward to the cooler weather, less tourists and scenery changing. For the next post I’ll promise to get cracking – to make some progress with the Lisboa/Portugal to do list of mine.

[iraniq]

The Story

Note: i have no idea about a name, so i’ll leave it like this for now...if you have some ideas, feel free to share, you could manage to see something i miss :)

@diyunho @rhina988 @nikkitasevoli @auntiemama1 @wolfgirl1074  littlefearsdoodles  lady-grinning-soul-k 

It was another hot morning. I was driving to work. It was our 4-th anniversary, i had to came up with something special this time, so i brought my favourite book.

We met when i was second year in university. We had this “clinical psychology” subject, so they brought us in a real mental hospital, to look around. We had a lunch break, when i saw him, like a vision. He was just checking in, looking kinda sleepy. But when one of the nurses tried to touch his long hair he freaked out, like literally! He started screaming, kicking, he even bit off some of her cheek….later we were told, he was found in abandoned building eating dead cat; but by the look of his eyes i wasn’t quite sute it was a cat he was eating.

I signed in as volunteer couple of days after … 4 yeas ago. Although i studied philosophy, they took me in. They said i speak crazy people’s language. Don’t get me wrong tho. It’s was ugly in the asylum, but people there the patients right. The private owner is a nice guy. And everything is fine, although we are not allowed to speak about what we do, even with our co-workera from different departments. 

I am now almost there. Out of the city, in a huge complex, green parks, cafeteria, restaurant, cake heaven! I am heading to meet my boyfriend - the crazy cannibal.

While I was waiting to get in the parking lot I thought about last year’s anniversary. He shared with me that he had dreams of me. In some we were lovers, in some he killed me, in some he eat me, beat me, sometimes I free him, sometimes I kill him. He shared these were his dreams, didn’t note which one exactly. The radio surprised me by playing Kesha - Praying, it was weird fit, to my current situation, and it took my thoughts away …

For the outsiders I was just an intern, helping a doctor with his patients, taking them on  walks, talking to them, checking if they got their pills. But for the others I was the girlfriend of the cannibal. Well we weren’t exactly a couple, I simply was the only person, who got an encounter with him and didn’t end in a hospital with an bitten off part. Every information we had on him was  half piece of paper text, saying his mother was ethnologist, she was styling some tribes at some god forsaken island in the sea, discovered like 23 years ago. After a tribe war she found him as a baby and took him with her. As she wasn’t abel to have kids, after couple of months she got married, and her and her husband adopted another boy and a girl. After she died of some unknown disease, when he was 13, the father left for Finland with the other two kids, leaving him here. The papers also say, it turned out he was the son of the tribe chef, of a cannibal tribe. After discovering this he commit himself to his heritage completely. Spending 5 full years by himself. Oddly he is really highly educated, speaks perfect language, no jargon words. Also is very bright and see the world as it is. His birth name is Izmail, named after a biblical character, to be followed by good faith, but the name I call him is Hannibal, it suits him better.

I finally arrived, they checked my purse as always, my book, even opened the candy I was planning to give him, just in case … When I opened the door he was already sitting there. Looking through the window, when he wasn’t talking to me he was acting either like a rages beast or like a zombie, bot caring about the world. He was diagnose with schizophrenia and bi-polar disorder, some say he might had multiple personalities, but I never met anyone but him.

-        Hello Hannibal, how are you today?

-        Thank you, I am fine. What about you?

-        Me too.

-        How’s your boyfriend?

-        Ha … - I laughed nervously – you are getting old, or you simply forgot we split up a year ago. – he only smiled. – I brought you my favourite book to read to you a little bit of it.

-        The Replacement?

-        How did you guessed, I haven’t showed you yet. – he is full of surprises.

-        I just know.

-        How?

-        I simply know you. – he said still looking through the window.

-        I brought you sweets too.

-        Just read me from your book … please!

-        Ok then!

I took the book of my purse, and the sweets, I bit some off and started chewing, as I finished I spit it in my hand and reached it out for him. He licked the sweets of it and kept looking through the window. I wiped out my hand and opened my book, starting to read my favourite parts I underlined when I first red it.

- “The first time my dad told me this, I didn't get what he was trying to say, but by the time I was in first or second grade, I was already starting to understand.

The moral of the story is, don't attract attention. Don't have deformed fingers. Don't let anyone find out how amazing you are at tuning strings by ear. Don't show anyone the true, honest heart of yourself or else, when something goes wrong, you might wind up rotting in a tree.

Everyone has a point of origin. A place they come from.

Some people's places are just simpler than others'.

I don't remember any of this, but my sister, Emma, swears it's true and I believe her. This is the story she used to tell me at night, when I would climb out of bed and sneak down the hall to her room.

The baby in the crib: crying, in that anxious, fussy way. His face is shiny between the bars. The man comes in the window--bony, wearing a black coat--and grabs the baby up. He slips back out over the sill, slides the window down, pops the screen back in. Is gone. There's something else in the crib.

In the story, Emma's four years old. She gets out of bed and pads across the floor in her footie pajamas. When she reaches her hand between the bars, the thing in the crib moves closer. It tries to bite her and she takes her hand out again but doesn't back away. They spend all night looking at each other in the dark. In the morning, the thing is still crouched on the lamb-and-duckling mattress pad, staring at her. It isn't her brother.

It's me.”

-        Is this you … or is this me?

-        Sometimes it’s me, sometimes it’s you.

-        Hmm – he briefly smiled. – Can you please continue.

-        You know I am just reading you random parts of the book.

-        But they are chronological random parts?

-        Yes.

-        Ok, then I will be able to get the whole point.

He is so beautify when he is in this trans of his, so peaceful, like porcelain doll, but with a soul.

- “ "Hey, ugly," she said, reaching to tousle my hair.” – I swallowed hard, he was still looking away, blinking, he looked at the floor, and smiled – No, it wasn’t this one here. – I was now beyond nervous I lost my booked-to-read-paragraph. – “ “I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and not in the complicated way I loved our parents, but in a simple way I never had to think about. I loved her like breathing.

She sighed and glanced over at me. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

I shrugged. The feeling was easy, but the words wouldn't come.

She looked at me a long time. Then she touched my cheek. "Good night, ugly.".”

He smiled again.

- “ "Sometimes, if the new mother loves it and takes really good care of it, the sick baby gets better. It stops being ugly and grows up strong and healthy and normal. Sometimes, if the mother just loves it enough, it becomes beautiful.".”… “ "Emma . . . " I got a tight feeling in my throat and started again. "Emma, Mom didn't make me like this. Keep me alive this long . . . You did.".” – I stopped reading for a while, I needed a moment.

-        She’s his sister, it’s obvious, no one can love like a sister. – he kept smiling.

-        There was another part, about Luther and Carlina …

-        Did you miss them?

-        … but I can’t find it – my hands were shaking, and I desperately needs to find this text passage.

-        Did you miss them?

-        Who?

-        The one you lost?

-        I didn’t lost anyone?

-        Oh ... – he finally looked at me – I’m sorry you didn’t have them. – he was sad. Thank God I find what I was looking for.

- “Over in a corner, Carlina still had her arms around Luther's neck. She kissed him hungrily, pulling his mouth down to hers, and his bony face and jagged teeth didn't matter because she was beautiful enough for both of them.”. … These two have the best love story a book could ever had …

-        … you know I love you too, right? – he was still looking thorough the window.

I didn’t say anything. I stand up and knocked on the door, they let me out, and I ran in the bathroom and locked myself.

-        How could he be this cruel! – I wanted to shout out but in the middle my voice cracked and I started crying.

[hermitlibrarian]

Babe’s got a viable side business working out of Busy Bean’s, the coffee shop in her hometown of Oar’s Rest, creating all sorts of tasty treats from sandwiches to baked goods for the people in her small beach town. Can sweets and savories heal hurt hearts, though, in a summer full of turmoil and new love? It’s hard to say, but in Lillie Vale’s debut novel readers will be treated to not only delicious dishes, but to a deliciously intricate story of friends and emotions, of the summer before the rest of their lives start, and a town that feels like home.

I want to thank Vicky from Vicky Who Reads for facilitating this partnership & Lillie for her guest post today on the tummy rumbling food in Small Town Hearts and much more!

  From Lillie Vale

  Hi Harker! Thanks for hosting me on your blog today! So excited to chat about my YA debut, Small Town Hearts, all the yummy food Babe conjures up in her kitchen, and, of course, the foods that mean the most to us! Everybody else: Hi! I’m Lillie Vale, the author of upper YA contemporary Small Town Hearts. It’s a messy BFF breakup + found family novel taking place in the summer after high school, the last summer 19yo bi baking barista Babe thinks she’ll have before her friends Penny and Chad start college in the fall. She has a somewhat co-dependent relationship with the people she loves, and change has never been a good thing, in her experience, so she’s trying to hold on tight during a time when she has to learn how to let go. Matters are further complicated when her ex-girlfriend Elodie returns to their sleepy Maine village of Oar’s Rest at the same time as a mysterious summer boy shows up to rent Babe’s mom’s cottage on the beach.

“It’s hard to figure out if you want something to be a career. Like when people find out I’m not going to college, they get all awkward. They think staying at Busy’s and being a barista is . . . a stepping-stone job. And for most people, it is.” I shrugged. “But I’ve never wanted to do anything else in my entire life. Making people happy with food is something special.”

– Small Town Hearts (pg. 124)

Food plays a huge role in Small Town Hearts. Babe loves taking care of her found family with sweet treats, steaming chowders, fresh-baked bread, and experiments with flavors like goat cheese that her author is way too chicken to try! Nope, nuh uh, sorry, I have an adventurous palate but it does not extend to goat byproducts! 🙈

I joke all the time that Small Town Hearts should come with the disclaimer that it will make you really hungry, and I hear this A LOT from readers that they were craving snacks (or actually went out to get some!) while reading! Which, to my foodie heart, is top-shelf praise.

“The sweetness of a slice of cake has the ability to turn a bad day around. There’s a lot of memories in food, you know.”

– Small Town Hearts (pg. 225)

So I thought I’d chat with Harker about comfort food, and why it means so much to us!

I live on a steady diet of Asian food: khow suey, chicken biryani, shrimp/egg curry, vegetable korma, pad thai, thai basil chicken, and so many more. This stuff takes FOREVER to prepare if you are a turtle at chopping vegetables like me, and in general there’s a lot of prep involved with Asian dishes, and sometimes a very specific order in which to add ingredients, so all in all it can be time consuming.

My mom makes the best chicken gravies/curries. It reminds me of my childhood whenever I smell frying onion. Her butter chicken and chicken tikka masala is *chefs kiss*. Rich, smooth tomato gravy with lots of onion and garlic, oh my gawdddd. Paired with white rice or naan? THE BEST. Also, Indian recipes that require only one clove of garlic? DO NOT TRUST. Who doesn’t love garlic? It’s doing double duty! Not only is it making your food delicious, it serves a very medicinal purpose of keeping you safe from vampires (;

Crisp vegetables, tender meat (or your choice of protein! I often substitute tofu!), the bite of ginger and the sweetness of onions, crunchy bean sprouts and sugar snap peas, chewy re-hydrated mushrooms (my favorite!!!), flavorsome lemongrass and curry leaves, garlicky noodles and sauces, fragrant coconut milk mixed in a delicious, savory broth…I could wax poetic about this all day! Eating any of this is like being enveloped in a warm hug. I know how much time goes into meals, so I appreciate it even more when it’s made for me. It soothes me to a degree I sometimes didn’t know I needed. Sometimes, food can be love.

As a diaspora Indian-American, food is the best way I know how to connect to my heritage. I associate my favorite Indian dishes with stories my mom tells me of her childhood in India, of a world and a time and a place I have never known, yet still feel wistful for.

And when I don’t have the time/energy to cook for myself or can’t beg/bribe my mom to make me something? Nothing beats packet ramen with a ton of veggies and a fried egg (gochujang and pickled radish and greens if you’re feeling fancy)! Wendy’s chicken nuggets, fries, and chili! You haven’t lived until you’ve dipped fries in their chili. So. Freaking. Good. And…corn flakes. I just really like corn flakes.

Harker, what are your favorite comfort foods, and why are they so evocative? Any special memories you associate with food? (Also, I am really hungry right now!!! Why did we think talking about food was a good idea!!! I have no idea what to make for lunch!!! I JUST WANT ALL THE THINGS!!!)

  From Harker, the Hermit Librarian

  Oh Lillie, I don’t know! Just reading your post made me hungry all over again. Each dish sounded better than the last. 😀

I feel very basic in saying that two of my comfort foods is mac n cheese or Chef Boyardee, both of which are super easy to make when I’m feeling low energy. However, I also enjoy Asian food quite a lot, especially from my local restaurants: brisket ramen, bool go gi, takoyaki,  and butter chicken. I haven’t made many of these dishes myself at home because, as you mentioned, these and similar can take a long time to prepare and I often don’t have the energy or the strength (my hands cramp easily when chopping/mixing). I’ve tried some jarred butter chicken sauce which I know isn’t the same as homemade but it suffices and it still quite delicious.

Reading Small Town Hearts made me ache to try some of the dishes that Babe was making. Whether it was the sweets or one of the savory dishes, pretty much everything she made sounded delicious, even if it had an ingredient I’m not partial to (blue cheese is apparently to me what goat cheese is to you, Lillie! *lol*).

Babe’s fare was a bit easier to replicate at home.

  (Left to Right – Babe’s “Grilled Cheese” Toastie, Ham & Cheese, Dark Chocolate Chip Pistachio Cookies)

  There was one sandwich that jumped out first: a grilled cheese that Babe made with blue cheese, arugula, and apricot jam. I made my twist on this by switching out the blue cheese for gouda and using an arugula/spinach mix. Omg, this was SO good! I’d never thought of putting jam on  sandwich before! What a joy! This was supposed to be a grilled cheese and I kind of failed on that in all the iterations I made, so it became more of a toastie, but even only semi-melted the smokiness of the gouda was a real nice counterpoint to the sweetness of the apricot jam.

Since I had the apricot jam and the arugula/spinach mix already and I wanted to make something that Babe would be proud of, I tried to think of a sandwich that would utilize many of the same ingredients. I paired the aforementioned items with some deli ham and sliced swiss cheese to make another sandwich. If you’ve got the energy you can toast it, but if you want something quick late at night, this Ham & Cheese can also be enjoyed cold.

And, of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t try and recreate Babe’s dark chocolate chip pistachio cookies. In Small Town Hearts, Babe includes sea salt in her recipe, which I nixed because I thought that the pistachios would be a bit too salty in the cookies. Next time, though, I would include it and also put more pistachios on top. All in all they were quite tasty! The recipe is the one on the back of the Nestle Tollhouse bag with the addition of the nuts if anyone would care to recreate them for yourself. 🙂

Food is only one part of Lillie’s book, of course. There’s so much more to it, from setting to the characters. Check out the synopsis, purchase links, and my review for more on this debut novel.

Once again, thank you, Lillie, for joining me for this wonderfully delicious guest post!

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Book Depository | Goodreads | Indiebound

Published: 19 March 2019

Publisher: Swoon Reads

Category: Contemporary/Young Adult/Romance/LGBT+

Rule #1 – Never fall for a summer boy. 

Fresh out of high school, Babe Vogel should be thrilled to have the whole summer at her fingertips. She loves living in her lighthouse home in the sleepy Maine beach town of Oar’s Rest and being a barista at the Busy Bean, but she’s totally freaking out about how her life will change when her two best friends go to college in the fall. And when a reckless kiss causes all three of them to break up, she may lose them a lot sooner. On top of that, her ex-girlfriend is back in town, bringing with her a slew of memories, both good and bad.

And then there’s Levi Keller, the cute artist who’s spending all his free time at the coffee shop where she works. Levi’s from out of town, and even though Babe knows better than to fall for a tourist who will leave when summer ends, she can’t stop herself from wanting to know him. Can Babe keep her distance, or will she break the one rule she’s always had – to never fall for a summer boy?

Rating: 3 Stars

Rep: Bisexual MC, Black SC, biracial ex-LI, Chinese American SC

CW: manipulative friendship, mention of casual drug usage (weed, not shown on the page), alcohol consumption (on page), alcohol abuse (a character drinks and parties to the point of dehydration and sleep-deprivation; two characters get wasted and are too drunk to fully consent to sex with each other); in this edition use of a racist term (tr*be – “It always felt like once people had their tribe, they didn’t have a lot of time for new friends.”) during the included quote. Note: having spoken to the author, she’s accepted this note and while it’s too late to change the current edition, she mentioned correcting it in further print runs.

From the get go, Small Town Hearts had a great knack for setting. At the heart of it was The Busy Bean, the coffee shop where Babe sells her baked good and works as a manager. It has a certain eclectic charm that is illustrated well in the furniture from various patio sets and alternating lettering styles displaying the daily specials on a board.

Vale constructs a comforting setting. Oar’s Rest comes to the reader’s mind not only through visuals that she sets out for them, but through scents that are described and used to round out the image of the town. It almost makes it a 3D image and puts the reader that much more in the story than any other.

There were some characterization choices that I thought were interesting, such as when Babe & Penny compare Penny & Chad’s relationship to Rory and Logan of Gilmore Girls. Penny/Rory, in their respective works (book/show) don’t tend to notice what they’re asking of others, the demands that their actions place on others, and I found this a super apt comparison.

Penny did not end up being my favorite person. There’s some growth on her part, but it was difficult to read her interactions with Babe. There’s language she uses that’s subtly manipulative of Babe & Babe’s feelings as well as judgment toward Levi when “first meeting” him at a houseboat party and offering him weed/alcohol but also “water if you’re not into having fun”.

I wasn’t sure, at first, if the tension between Babe & Penny was casual friends depending upon one another or something else, but as one scene plays out (Penny asking Babe to, essentially, cement a breakup with Chad) it becomes clear that Penny knows what she’s doing. Events spiral from that one request, and from the past decisions that have happened between Babe, Penny, and even Chad, to create a whole mess that intertwines the entire narrative.

Babe & Levi had some sweet moments, despite the tension that was running between them for a variety of reasons. Their dates around town, their conversations, there were some truly lovely, intimate moments that bolstered the quickly formed relationship.

There is something I found slightly odd, maybe offputting, about the tone of the characters. Before their ages were explicitly stated, and perhaps even a bit after that, I would’ve said based on the way they acted, the situations they were in (living conditions, certain freedoms, etc.), that this was more a New Adult novel and that most of the main cast was in their early twenties rather than late teens. Like, there was a disproportionate amount of young people to older (late twenties and up) residents. These characters were all 17-19 and not quite acting like it. They had jobs, “houses”, and responsibilities that didn’t quite mesh with the personalities that had been presented on page.

There is a brief explanation given as to where Babe’s mother is (she works on a cruise ship most of the year) and why Babe is able to afford living in a lighthouse (given funds). It felt a rather convenient way, though, to avoid developing a familial relationship between Babe and her parents because both are essentially absentee what with her mother working on a cruise ship and her father being a relative unknown to the reader.

Overall, while the action seem choppy/repetitive at times, creating a sometimes rough reading experience, what was good was good and what wasn’t awful. I really could see Oar’s Rest in my head and sinking into a setting isn’t always easy. I wish that it was possible to visit such a place, get a picnic lunch at Lorcan’s seafood shack, and wander down to the beach. Small Town Hearts is a wonderfully atmospheric novel and getting to settle down with a snack and a good read is totally something to look forward to with this debut.

  About the Author

  Lillie Vale, upon discovering she could not be one of Santa’s elves or attend Hogwarts, decided to become a writer to create a little magic of her own. Enjoying the romantic and eerie in equal measure, she’s probably always writing a book where the main characters kiss or kill. Born in Mumbai, she has lived in many U.S. states, and now resides in an Indiana college town where the corn whispers and no one has a clue that she is actually the long-lost caps lock queen. She can be reached on Twitter @LillieLabyrinth and Instagram @labyrinthspine. Small Town Hearts is her debut novel.

            I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review. Quotes included are from an advanced reader copy and may not reflect the finalized copy.

All media belongs to the respective owners and is used here solely for the purpose of review and commentary.

  Yummy Read: A Guest Post with Lillie Vale, author of Small Town Hearts Babe's got a viable side business working out of Busy Bean's, the coffee shop in her hometown of Oar's Rest, creating all sorts of tasty treats from sandwiches to baked goods for the people in her small beach town. 2,668 more words

[fucknofortunato]

[Writing Prompt] My Fantasy Fantasy pt 1

Prompt: You have suddenly been inserted as one of the characters in the Lord of the Rings series. Who are you and do you change anything about how your character acted in the books or movies? Note: I really don’t like writing fanfiction anymore, so I’m taking heavy liberties with this one’s guidelines. Also, little ashamed to admit I’m honestly not that savvy with the LotR’s story despite having watched the films. Haven’t read the books yet

Vandrew Avi was feeling pretty down on his luck lately. There wasn’t an aspect of his life he currently felt great about and his 25th birthday was quickly approaching. Having just finished another shift at his soul-crushing desk job, Vandrew found himself in the usual spot in his usual seat: Breakdown Solo. A small bar/restaurant that served the locals but managed to keep a dive bar atmosphere to just the bar top area.

“White Russian please. Easy on the Vodka, heavy on the Kahlua.” A small guffaw made him turn his head, “If you’re gonna order from the bar you should be ordering actual drinks.”

Sitting two seats down from him was an man he guessed to be in his fifties or so. Had a real gruff look to him and nasty scar running from his cheek down to his neck.

“I get drunk after a few and enjoy the drink alright too. I’m not Russian to get drunk,” Vandrew replied. Another guffaw, the patron amused by the short quip. “You like bowling?” “Not really. I’m not good at it, just can’t seem to pin down the strategy.” This time the laugh kinda startled Vandrew. Oh yeah, he thought to himself. I guess that was a pun. The bartender laid out a napkin and set his drink on it. Throwing cash on the bar, he thanked her before trying the drink. A small grimace hidden by a forced smile. There’s always too much vodka. “So, what are you doing drinking out here and telling puns?” “Heh. I just kinda use puns to gauge new people’s humor. Just here trying to make the best of a long day. Well, long week really. Or life I guess.” “You sound like you need some more excitement! What do you do for work?” “I just do some simple mind-numbing computer stuff. It’s okay at times. Some of the co-workers are fun to talk to.” “Wouldn’t you like to travel though?” the old man asked with an auspicious grin.

Vandrew sat up and gave his full attention to the man now. Something was wrong here, because he would love to travel. Yet, there was just something here that seemed to imply that the old man knew exactly that.

“Yeah... But I don’t think I’m able to afford or find any jobs that let me do that,” Vandrew hesitantly replied. “How about being a private courier?” “You mean like deliveries for people they don’t want to publicly hire for?” “I mean exactly that. Deliveries for people that are willing to just pay you directly and see to it that the overworked postal people don’t bumble their goods.” “I looked at stuff like that forever ago, but I just couldn’t figure out how to get into it,” Vandrew said, looking back into his glass before taking a solemn sip. “I could use a courier tonight. In fact, I’m looking for someone to fill the position that my previous hire just emptied,” replied the man leaning forward and retrieving something from his coat. “Uh... I don’t know about that. Seems like I might be transporting illegal items or something considering I’m not allowed to look. Cause I’m not allowed to look right?” “Oh you can look, it’s not pre-packaged or anything,” the man said withdrawing a brown cloth.

The man held the item up to Vandrew and let the cloth fall from it, revealing a strange golden star-like dodecahedron. Within the center, there was a ruby etched with strange lettering and covered by connecting golden grid lines.

“You...you’d trust me with delivering that? That looks incredible expensive,” Vandrew said admiring the jewelry. It looked just a bit bigger than a baseball. “Of course. You’ll want to get paid and earn that new job. Consider tonight a test. I’ll pay you two hundred dollars now and when the client receives this item, he’ll give you four hundred more.”

Vandrew almost choked on his white russian. THAT’S LIKE TWO WEEKS WORTH OF MY PAYCHECKS!! he thought to himself with twisted delight and curiousity.

“That’s like two weeks worth of my paychecks!” he proceeded to blurt out as well. “Think about that will ya,” said the old man. “One night and you’re already good for two weeks.” “Well hot damn, man! Where do I have to take it?” he asked eagerly. The older man chuckled to himself as he stood up from his seat. Reaching back into his coat, he pulled out a business card and handed it to Vandrew. “My number is on the back if you run into any trouble. Her door is usually unlocked, so let yourself in if she’s not answering. You’re welcome to wait for her to get home, she’ll be expecting you.” “Unlocked...?” he said to himself as he looked over the card. “Sounds like someone could rob her unless she’s got an a-door-ing public.”

Vandrew looked up smiling but saw the old man must have been swift, for he was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, he instead found the ruby-star and the two hundred dollars in the seat next to him. Beaming a smile, he held up the ten twenty-dollar-bills to his face. Looking back to the bar, he placed a tip next to his drink and then went to find some food.

-

Back in his car, Vandrew plugged the address into his phone.

Hey, that’s actually not too far from here, he thought to himself. Should be about a two hour drive, tops. Gonna be pretty sleepy on the way back though...

It was already pretty late but the idea of getting to travel so much and being financial stable was already filling his head with dreams. The road seemed to drag on and on as he went along highways and back routes, avoiding the tolls and blasting his music. It was mostly strange remixes of popular songs and synths or 80′s-esque film music. It was kind of an ironic enjoyment because he wouldn’t normally listen to the actual song as much but he couldn’t help but sing along with this one. “Bout to have a party... Let’s get it started... Go ahead shake your butt...”

“Oh my got...” he muttered, letting it hang in the air. Vandrew parked his car next to a keypad staring at the big archway gate, green metal bars with some symbol in the center. Behind the gate laid the rest of the road and an old mansion, though it seemed smaller than he thought a mansion would look. Looking over the card he found the five digit code and punched it into the keypad. “I guess that’s why she leaves the door unlocked.”

Having parked his car, he approached the doorway with the ruby-star in hand, wrapped in the brown cloth. Vandrew knocked upon the door nervously and kept looking around at the grounds. It was pretty late at night and he wasn’t feeling super aware of himself. Unsure of if he knocked hard enough, he tried knocking again, pretty hard and for a little longer than he felt was normal.

“Oh wait a sec,” he said to himself as he realized this was a pretty big house. Looking around the door for a moment he found the doorbell, “Ah, there we go.”

The chimes of the doorbell could be heard faintly outside the door. About two minutes went by before he decided to stop being awkward and try opening the door. Instead, the handle only turned halfway and he heard the click of a lock holding it in place.

“Oh man! You gotta be kidding me!” he blurted aloud. Quickly his mind raced, thinking about why someone would trick him into coming out to someone’s house with some expensive looking jewelry. “Hold on hold on, don’t freak out just yet,” he tried to reassure himself. “He had the code right? Oh no, he had the code! Maybe I was just to test it?” Fumbling with his pocket he pulled out the business card. “Oh gotjam, what if I call him and it’s just a setup to let him actually rob the place or something?”

In a panic, Vandrew tried the door again and knocked as he held the door knob. Suddenly, he felt the door knob give way and the door slid ajar. Tripping over himself and hitting the door twice, he regained himself in the entrance to the home. “Yeah...okay...”

Curiosity and determination overtook his paranoid senses and he shut the door before beginning to explore. There were some really old paintings on the wall, covered with dust and some having tears. Little podiums were throughout the hall with odd busts and vases upon them. Eventually, his path came to an end at a large room with a fireplace. The fire was lit and crackling, so he assumed this must be where he was supposed to wait. The room was also strangely decorated. Aside from the big sofa chair near the fireplace and the table next to it, this room seemed like it had not been touched in some time.

An old rug was spread across the floor in a design of red and tan with little dashes of blue here and there. Really ties the room together, Vandrew thought to himself as he crossed it. A deer head was above the fireplace but there was something off about it that he couldn’t put his finger on. The antlers seemed pretty big and the branches far apart but he honestly didn’t know enough about deer to tell if this was unique. The rest of the room just didn’t appeal to him at all once he realized what was on the far wall from the sofa.

A large sign hung at the top that read “CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON“ in large golden letters. Below it were several racks of weapons upon the wall, divided into odd categories. At the top, hanging horizontally like a gun, sat a large oaken staff, seemingly made of twisted branches with a big crystal in the end grasped by the roots. Everything else was hung from the handle, with the weapon’s ‘dangerous’ end pointing towards the floor. Starting at the left there was a rack of 4 daggers, a rack of two swords, a rack of one large battle axe, a rack of a bow and 5 arrows, and lastly, a large rack containing a multitude of knives, maces, bows, and swords but all in a twisted black metal.

“This looks...familiar...” Vandrew said to himself. Speaking to himself was a habit he developed for whenever he felt out of place or unsafe. “Well, she’s got some cool weapons. That battleaxe looks pretty neat,” he said reaching for it. “But wait a sec,” cutting himself off and pulling back his hand. “That’s pretty heavy. If I did need to defend myself, I can’t let them see I’m not that strong off the bat...” His eyes scanned back over to the daggers. “Yeah that seems neat...”

Vandrew reached out with both hands for two daggers. His right hand pulled one off before the left and just before the left could grip the other, he heard the wall make a large clicking sound. Instinctually, he flinched and gripped the second dagger but it didn’t budge from the wall. His hand slid off causing him to jump a second time and rear up the dagger in a defensive way. Looking around, he saw a mirror nearby and caught a glimpse of himself. A gangly kid holding a dagger upside down like some kind of wannabe ninja. This image also made it dawn on him that he would have to get really close to stab someone with this. “Oh god,” he said, putting the dagger back out of fear from the wall and the feeling that he couldn’t really defend himself with it. The prongs holding up the blade pushed away and he heard the clicking again.

“Damn, she is protective of her stuff,” Vandrew wondered aloud, realizing that the wall somehow locked everything into place once of the items was taken. Back at the swords he reached out and grabbed the one with a gold and black hilt. The walls clicked and locked everything into place as he held the heavy blade aloft, looking at the craftsmanship. He whistled in awe, realizing this blade was the real deal. Despite it weighing his arm a bit, he practiced swinging it around a bit, trying to do some sword tricks. It devolved into the true purpose of what he was doing, which was playing with a weapon. Yet, as what is prone to happen to those who play with weapons and things they don’t understand, he ended up nicking his leg and cutting a small slashed hole into his jeans.

“Ow, damn it!” he said,bending down to clutch his wound. The sword remained aloft, gripped in his right hand. “Well, it doesn’t look too bad. Jeez, that’s a real clean cut too... I think.” Sighing and placing the blade on the table, he sat in the chair and began to wait. “Shoot,” he said aloud eyes widening. “What was I doing, I could have totally broken this lady’s stuff. That’d suck to come out here to get paid only to have to pay someone else...”

About a half hour went by before he started to slump in the chair, phone barely held in his hand. The ruby-star sat on the table as well and as he struggled to see things clearly, he almost thought he saw the cloth glowing red from within. Then his eyes finally gave up the fight to stay awake.