#lately rainy weather despite me not going out in it at all

[retiredcultistredux]

OH! Ptsst!! Hyness! Do you think the core may be reacting to your emotional state? The glow seemed to recede when you calmed down and started glowing again when you were startled!

Ester: "Now that's interesting..."

Hyness: "Y-You...weren't supposed to h-hear that..."

Ester: "Well too bad!! ...Hehe, I just got a funny idea..."

Uh oh.

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra V

Read Neighbors here | ~2.5k words

From me: based on this ask. Takes place probably in between Part 5 and Extra I

Warnings: a little angsty, a little fluffy, enjoy 💕

It was the stretch of bad weather that did it. Played a trick on his mind. It hurt to think about those weeks without his favorite people. He knew what bad weather could do to people and he knew how it could affect him. It was weird, the night before he rather enjoyed the sound of rain against the window, the slight chill in the air contrasted with the warmth coming off her from the bed. Now it seemed like a curse.

“Harry?” Rory called, hearing the thunder in the middle of the night. It made his heart ache to know Rory called Harry’s name and not for Mumma the way he usually did. Harry rolled out of bed pressing a swift kiss to her forehead despite his negativity settling into the pit of his stomach. He made his way for Rory’s room. He forgot about the frustration he felt about her and the weeks that she chose to separate them. Rory needed him.

“S’matter, lad?” Harry asked sitting on the end of his bed. There was relief in his eyes that was visible in the low light of his nightlight. That relief made Harry’s heart clench. He put his hand on his leg atop the covers and squeezed his shin.

“Is... is Mumma scared?” He asked softly.

Harry tilted his head curiously. “Mummy’s sleeping,” he assured him.

“Oh... um...” Rory was so little looking in his bed. “Mumma gets scared with thunder sometimes,” he explained. “I usually go sleep with her to keep her safe.”

Harry blamed the lateness of the hour for his slow-moving brain cells and not understanding what Rory was trying to tell him faster. “Oh?” He nodded. “I see. Well, do y’want t’come check on her?” He asked standing beside his bed and pulling the covers back.

He nodded eagerly; it was punctuated by a crack of thunder that practically shook the house. His eyes widened with fear while trying to be brave. After his little hospital stay, Harry noted how nervous Rory seemed sometimes—especially when it came to his mum and making sure she wasn’t nervous too. “That was scary,” Harry admitted and scooped Rory into his arms quickly, tucking his head against his shoulder.

“You’re scared of thunder?” He asked incredulously but didn't move his face from Harry's neck.

“Isn’t everyone?” Harry smirked without Rory seeing. “Y'know that Mummy is, me...s'like you’re the bravest one of us."

Rory squirmed a bit in Harry’s arms--like the weight of his phobia and subsequent fake-bravery was too much for him. “I think I’m a little afraid of thunder,” he whispered to Harry. Harry nodded and squeezed him.

“S’okay. S’brave of you t’want t’check on Mummy anyway.”

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” he admitted.

“Allowed?” Harry repeated.

“Because Mumma has you now.”

Harry didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the night. Not when he was feeling frustrated with the love of his life’s actions. Not when the weather was souring his mood. Not when Rory felt scared, and he didn’t know how to fix it completely.

“Rory,” Harry sighed stopping outside the bedroom. “Mummy and I are always going t’need you,” he promised. “You don’t have t’change how y’do things because m’here,” he pressed his lips against the little one’s forehead.

"Okay," he nodded.

Harry smiled at him again, ran his hand through his hair comfortingly before he headed back in the bedroom. He knelt on the bed and deposited Rory in the middle. She hadn’t moved. Probably tired from being perfect all day, Harry presumed. Rory nestled into the middle of the bed and Harry smiled softly, feeling more tired, thankfully, than when he woke up. His mind didn’t need to reel with more feelings of frustration before he fell back asleep. “Night, Harry,” Rory whispered.

Harry smiled as he drifted off. “Night Rory.”

*

The rainy night turned into a rainy day. Harry was quiet. She noticed it immediately. When she woke up with the help of her internal clock at six-thirty, she realized Rory’s little face was staring back at her. She blinked in surprise, wondering when he got there. Harry’s hand was resting protectively on Rory’s little rib cage and her heart melted so thoroughly she thought she would cry.

Swallowing the emotion in her throat she snuck out of bed to start breakfast as Rory would surely wake up with the help of his own internal clock in about thirty minutes. The rain and dark clouds made her think of her trip to the hospital in the middle of the night, quickly she shook her head of those thoughts.

As if on cue, Harry and Rory descended the stairs as she poured juice for them. “Hi Mumma!” Rory smiled excitedly. Harry released him and he scurried over to hug her legs. She bent and kissed the top of his head before returning to the scrambled eggs on the stove.

“Hi love bug,” she grinned. “Did you sleep okay?”

Rory glanced back at Harry and nodded. “Harry said I was really brave about the thunder.”

She was surprised she didn’t wake to the sound of it and moreover the sound of Rory’s little worried voice because of it. She pursed her lips and glanced at Harry as well. “Yeah?” She asked quietly.

Harry nodded. He pressed a kiss to her temple and grabbed the three glasses of orange juice to settle on the table. “Rory was braver than I was,” he repeated. “He wanted t’make sure y’were sleeping okay. Because y’get scared in the thunderstorms sometimes.”

Her heart clenched with love for the little one. More for Harry for going along with every little detail and every insecurity Rory shared with him. She smiled and nodded. “Thanks, cutie pie,” she ruffled his hair as he held onto her leg still.

Harry sat at the table. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid much attention to the position, but he didn’t really look up from his phone. He didn’t look up when she said breakfast was almost ready—when he usually hopped up to get plates, silverware, etc. Rory followed over to Harry. Joined him by sitting right on his lap, Harry moving instinctively to hold him as they examined Harry’s phone.

“Honey, can you ask Harry if it’s okay first—he might be doing something for work or—”

“S’fine, kitten,” he mumbled, interrupting her without further explanation.

“It’s highlights from the soccer game,” Rory explained.

Biting her lip, she suddenly felt a bit intrusive. Quietly, she set plates in front of the pair and then ate her own food in near silence—save for the cheers and announcers coming from Harry’s phone. It felt odd to feel left out. For so long it had been her and Rory. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she swore Harry almost seemed... annoyed with her.

After Rory started playing on his own, she would ask. Or maybe when Rory went to sleep tonight.

For now, even if she was a bit anxious about Harry’s coldness toward her, she couldn’t help but adore how sweet Harry and Rory looked at the other end of the table. The same concentrated expression on their faces as they watched his phone screen. Her heart was so full it felt illegal to be that happy. Harry kissed the back of Rory’s head without fanfare, without thinking. His phone propped against the flower vase while he ate his breakfast with one hand.

Just as quietly, she snapped a picture of the pair of them. One to send to her family as well as his for sure.

*

Rory and Harry were nearly inseparable the whole day. It allowed her to get a lot of cleaning and laundry done that had been neglected since Rory couldn’t play in the yard with the unending rainy weather. In the late afternoon, Rory asked that they play a few rounds of Candyland. So, they did. Harry smiled at Rory the whole time and chuckled every time her turn brought her back to the Peppermint Forest when she was almost to the Candy Castle.

It almost felt mean spirited.

But the boys went to play again in Rory's room after Candyland. Harry even got Rory to take a bath without the usual argument that ensued when she did. Their little day spent together right under her nose made her a little jealous—although she wasn’t sure who she was jealous of when she thought about it. They paused to have leftovers for dinner (because it was Saturday, and that was their routine) While they played, she read some of her long-neglected book that was often set to the side for room to play with her son.

“Rory wants you t’say goodnight,” Harry said quietly as he flopped onto the couch grabbing the controller off the coffee table. She blinked, glanced at the clock along the wall of the dining area and shook her head at how rapidly the time had moved.

“It’s eight already?” She asked, mostly to herself. There was no arguing, no ‘one more story,’ not even a good night kiss as had happened many nights before when Harry put Rory to bed.

He nodded anyway, scrolling through movie and show options on Netflix without even looking at her. She eyed him suspiciously the entire time she ascended the stairs to Rory’s room. “Hi Mumma,” he grinned happily. He smelled clean and fresh. His room was tidy (thanks to Harry’s kind reminders as they played, she was sure). Rory was perfect. But she may have been a bit biased.

“Hi baby,” she smiled. “Did you have fun playing with Harry today?” She asked.

He nodded. “We played so much,” it was as if he realized it all on his own and how weird of a day it was to have a playdate right near her without hardly including her.

“You did,” she grinned and kissed his forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She had said it to him since the day they met Harry and he had asked for clarification.

He grinned and rolled over sleepily. “I love you, too, Mumma,” he yawned. She turned his light off, ensuring the nightlight remained on. She closed the door and returned to the living room. Harry was unmoved; legs outstretched on the coffee table.

Harry shifted as she removed her book from the sofa and placed it beside Harry’s feet on the table. He was silent. Her discomfort amplified and she turned to him. “Are you...okay?” She asked. He nodded, still unspeaking. She bit the inside of her lip. “Uh...Harry, it really feels like—”

“It was really unfair,” he mumbled. His gaze was unmoving from the TV but he wasn’t watching.

“What was—”

“You just...stopped talking t’me. Y’didn’t tell me why. Rory had t’come t’me in secret t’invite me t’his game,” he reminded her. “I know why y’did,” he looked at her squarely for the first time all day. “But it hurt. And I never really got t’grieve it because you came back but it hurt,” he repeated. Her chest ached, feeling like he pierced a whole right through it.

“Harry,” she whispered, an apology forming.

He shook his head. “Y’don’t have t’say anything. S’over and m’not...” he sighed. “M’really not mad, kitten. M’not. S’jus’ the crummy weather made me think of it. Playing with Rory all day made me think ‘bout all those weeks I didn’t have with him. S’not fair and s’not anyone’s fault. M’jus... sad.”

Her heart felt shattered. “But—”

“You don’t have t’say anything.”

But she felt like she did. Harry resenting her felt like a very real possibility and it terrified her. “You’ll resent me.”

“Of course I won’t,” he turned to her with such fierceness in his eyes she felt as if the sun had finally broke the cloud barrier after their long weak of rain. “I know why y’did it. But m’sad about it,” he grabbed her hand. “I trust you that it won’t happen again,” he kissed her knuckles. “M’sorry I was cold today. I jus’ never got t’process or tell you how it felt.”

Well, if it was worse than this moment--and she was sure that it wasn’t even a fraction of the anguish and hurt Harry felt at the time--then she didn’t want to ever make him feel that way again. Didn’t want to experience it herself in any manner—even if Harry very much deserved to make her feel the way she made him feel.

“Harry,” she repeated. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. Tongue-tied, confused, and unsure. Things she rarely felt since she had Rory because she couldn't. “I... I don’t know how to—”

“Kitten,” he squeezed her hand. “M’not mad. M’not going t’hold it against you. But I needed to tell you, so I don’t.”

“Harry,” she felt like a broken record.

“Beautiful,” he echoed in the same tone. “M’not mad,” he promised.

She crawled across the couch, curled in his lap and nuzzled against him in a way that a grown woman had no business to do. Tears stung behind her eyes and her breath felt shallow in her lungs. “I was an idiot,” she whispered hoping it would ease the ache, the fear she felt of losing Harry when she had only started to have him.

“Oh, kitten,” he cooed. “Y’might be the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he assured her running his hand up and down her back. “I was mean today. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You should have punched me in the face.”

He chuckled. “Never in a billion years, love,” he brushed her hair out of her face. “You didn’t need t’do it, but I get it.”

“I didn’t. I shouldn’t have. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“M’telling you, you don’t need to. I won’t behave poorly like I did today again.”

Her heart felt so broken--she was afraid to speak. Worried it would just come out in a mess of sobs that Harry would unfairly have to comfort. “I can’t even believe you’re apologizing for your behavior. It was my own doing.”

“Angel,” he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose. “You did what you thought was best as a mum. M’never going t’fault you for that; just...” he smiled and shook his head. “Tell me beforehand next time, yeah?”

She snorted. “I won’t ever let there be a next time,” she vowed. He winked at her, cupped her face with his hands that she missed gently caressing her and touching her in between playing with Rory, all day long. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise.

--

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neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Help the Bear

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: “If you ever see me fighting in the forest with a grizzly bear, help the bear, cuz that bitch gon’ need it.” Usually, you’d say this phrase describes you. You’re tough, and your enemies are the bear, but you might be more fragile than it seems. You might have to put aside some of your issues for the night, in favor of helping a friend.

Word count: 6,722

Content/warnings: Swears, punching, anger, deception, mob themes, crying, yelling, broken promises, mood swings, pet and nicknames, nice Bucky???, everyone lowkey walking on eggshells around decks, high stress, kidnapping, a bar fight, mentions of knives, misogyny

Author’s Note: I feel like this is a long awaited climax which lines up with Ch. 10 of YCMBWH and Ch. 3 of Handiwork. Anyway, I’m very excited for you to read it. I’d appreciate your feedback in all forms!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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It was early Saturday morning when you stood outside of your apartment building, waiting for Gio to pick you up like you had instructed Steve. He’d sent you several calls and texts since, but you stayed radio silent, until finally, it all stopped. You didn’t have doubt, though, that he’d come through, and you wouldn’t have to drive that distance in your current state. The chance of a crash was far too high. Hm, maybe you should’ve taken Steve’s car then. No, no, you weren’t that mean. You shamed yourself for even having the thought.

The sky was full of nice shades of pink, orange, and purple, the air lacking the humidity that usually came with the rising sun. It was the rainy season, and had been for the last month, but for some reason, the conditions seemed almost drought-like, since Tuesday. How uncharacteristic.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a black SUV pulling up in front of your building, and tried to squint to see who was in the driver’s seat. You had only seen Gio once before, so you assumed it was him by the dark hair you could just barely make out through the tinted window. Good, that meant it wasn’t Steve, even though the vehicle had an eerie resemblance to his. The trunk popped open and you threw your bag in. You weren’t going to be there long, anyway. All you had packed was a change of clothes for the game tonight, pajamas, and clothes for when you left in the morning. Simple as that, and it meant you could wear whatever you wanted right now, which was the comfiest thing you had: sweatpants and your old hoodie, despite the uncharacteristically warm weather.

You closed the trunk and hopped into the back seat, barely having the time to get buckled as the car lurched forward and started on its way out of the city. You looked through the window at the passing buildings as they turned into trees, on the route that was becoming familiar once again.

Bucky grumbled as he tossed and turned in his oversized leather desk chair, arising from the short sleep he had found there after a late night of business dealings designed to be front loaded for him to have this weekend open. He moved to stand, only for his feet to be met by something soft, that was definitely not the hardwood floors, under his loafers.

“Ah, fuck! Steve? What are you doing down there? Why didn’t you fall asleep on the couch, like a normal person?”

Steve groaned, rolling over just enough to look at his best friend above him. “Couch is too comfy. Floor keeps me on edge, just barely asleep. I deserve that. And now I’m up so we can go immediately. You’re welcome, I did this for you and your future wife.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped over the lump of blond and muscle on the floor, creeping towards Sam, who actually was on the couch, while grumbling, “We don’t know if she’s my future wife. We hardly have a label.”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear for him to rise, met with an, “ow! I’ve been up since you have, boss man!”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, walking over to the closet in the corner of his home office and grabbing his and Steve’s go bags that they had packed the night before.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get there soon. Sam, you still good with holding down the fort here?”

Sam nodded, having sat up fully, unlike Steve, who was still laying on the floor, face down. “Yeah, although, I’m not sure about our buddy over there. Stevie, rise and shine,” he sang out softly.

Steve stood after taking a sharp, deep breath, his eyes red and face puffy just barely, that it looked like allergies from sleeping on the floor. “Okay, I’ll drive my car, and Bucky, you’ve gotta go get Decks.”

Bucky stopped all movement, going still as a statue from where he was double checking the contents of his bag, before turning around slowly. “I’m sorry, what? You want me to go pick up Decks? No. Your girl, you pick her up.”

Steve’s head dropped as Sam let out an audible wince at the whole thing, before explaining, since he knew Steve had very little desire to be verbal right now. “Boss, Decks hasn’t talked to Steve since Tuesday. Steve can’t go pick her up, I think it’ll just make her more mad. And look at him,” he gestured to Steve, hair in a mess and head still pointing towards the floor as he rubbed his eyes, “poor puppy is gonna be broken if he has to see her this early in the morning. She’s gonna eat him alive. At least you’ve got Honey waiting for you on the other side. Steve sure as hell doesn’t.”

The help from Sam had morphed into something a little hurtful, albeit true, but Bucky still huffed. “If Decks doesn’t want to see you, why’d she agree to a ride from us?”

Steve shook his head, finally looking up. “She didn’t. She agreed to a ride from Gio, who’s in Italy currently because you were trying to be a nice boss, or whatever. So you’ve gotta drive her.”

In an instant, Bucky’s features grew soft. He switched from boss mode to friend mode. “Okay, okay. Just…get going so you can start talking strategy with Bee and Peter early. I’ll pick up Decks and meet you there.”

Steve gave a short, grateful nod and grabbed his bag, heading out.

So Bucky found himself driving you like a chauffeur out to the farm as the early morning sun was lighting up the landscape. He was used to being up this early, and he was sure you were, too, but just in case, he’d brought some breakfast.

Once he’d gotten far enough from the city that he knew you wouldn’t try and escape once he revealed himself, he rolled down the partition. He could see you curled up in the corner of the backseat, almost cuddling, clinging to the hoodie you were wearing. It was all too familiar, as Bucky knew Bee had the same one, but the last time he had seen one of them was that time he was at your apartment and Steve had worn it. And that’s when Bucky caught a whiff. Unmistakable with how often he was around it. Steve’s cologne. The corner of his lip upturned slightly. Maybe there was still a chance for the two of you.

You were pulled from your daydream by the sound of the partition lowering, but didn’t move your gaze from the passing scenery. Maybe Gio was going to ask you if you needed a bathroom break in the long drive, or to make sure the air flow and temperature were alright, but you were surprised when you heard the voice in front of you.

It was deep, and a little familiar. “So, uh… you want a croissant?”

It was Bucky. You watched as he fished around in the passenger seat, grabbing a bakery box and handing it back to you, shaking it as a signal when you hadn’t grabbed it after a few seconds. You pulled it into your lap before looking into the rear view mirror and catching his slate eyes, watching you expectantly, yet cautiously, for a response.

You looked at the label on the box. It was a French bakery. One you’d never heard of before, especially not from the list of businesses Steve had rattled off to you when you asked what all he owned. Good.

You spoke up softly, not one much for words so early in the morning. “So’s this place yours?”

Bucky looked between your image in the mirror and the road, trying to figure out what you were referencing. “The bakery? Yeah, one of many places. And one of my favorites. Try the chocolate croissant if you haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s good.”

You nodded, sighing and gingerly opening the lid to be met by one of the best smells probably ever. You carefully pulled out a chocolate croissant and took a bite, holding in a moan at the deliciousness, but Bucky could see the enjoyment on your face, no matter how brief, due to the overwhelming weight of today sitting on your shoulders.

“Told you.”

You simply hummed in response, setting down the pastry and waiting to swallow to speak up.

“So, Bucket. I thought Gio was supposed to pick me up, but it looks like Steve lied again. Why you? Don’t you have better shit to be in charge of?”

Bucky was changing highways, so he kept his eyes on the road. He had half a mind to defend his best friend, but he didn’t want to open up that can of worms when you still had a couple hours of driving left. Plus, he knew it went farther than that, and it wasn’t technically his fight. Touching on your self-deprecation probably wasn’t a good idea, either. He’d leave that to Honeybee, much better versed in seeing you like this, he assumed. But from what he could tell, this seemed far from your normal self-assured, resigned state that he quite appreciated. He opted to comment on the dissection of your sentence that mainly had to do with him. That was probably a good domain to stay within for now. “You don’t have to call me that, y’know.”

You took another bite and shrugged. “What am I supposed to call you, then? James?”

“Bucky is fine.”

You let out a dry laugh. “No, that’s weird, what are you, a hick? -wait, actually, no. Forget I said that.”

Definitely not a good idea to make a distasteful joke such as that with where you both were going right now.

You shook your head looking down at the box. “But you still didn’t answer my first question.”

Bucky spun the wheel around the clover leaf and effortlessly merged on the open roads. “Gio’s on vacation in Italy, so you’re stuck with me. But don’t worry, Steve’s already on the road ahead of us.”

Well, he did what you asked, but you left his answer unacknowledged, besides a huff as you set the box aside. So much for trying to tread lightly.

“What? Decks, sweetheart, are you mad at me for bringing up Steve?” You crossed your arms and legs, glaring at Bucky and hoping it would set him on fire, sadly unsuccessfully, through the mirror. It was a good thing you weren’t a witch, anyway, though, because Bee would’ve killed you if it had worked.

“Ugh! What is up with that!? Everyone calling me ‘sweetheart?’ You, Sam, Steve! I’m not some little token helpless woman.”

Bucky opened his mouth defensively to reply, before closing it and furrowing his brows in thought at your full statement. “Wait a second, Steve called you ‘sweetheart?’”

You rolled your eyes yet again, and decided you weren’t done with that croissant quite yet, so you grabbed the box from your side and took another bite, not bothering to swallow this time before talking with your mouth full. “Yeah, like a few times, and then Sam did when he drove me home, and you did just now. What’s the deal?”

Bucky wished you weren’t sitting directly behind him, because he would’ve fully turned to look you in the eyes for this. He didn’t realize how serious it all was between the two of you, but he should’ve, considering how enamored he was, too, with his own girl. Obviously Steve was capable of the same thing.

“Swee- Decks. For Sam and I, that’s just how we were raised. I mean, Steve was raised the same way, but…” He stopped to think for a second so it came out the right way.

“Sure, you’re right, ‘sweetheart’ is a term of endearment for anyone in our community. Any guy will call pretty much any woman that, but not Steve. Ever since we were young, he refused. Said he was saving it. That it deserved to be used for someone really special. Someone with the sweetest heart. At least for him.”

You scoffed and questioningly shook your head. “Bucket, that is not me.”

He shrugged once again. “Maybe. And maybe that’s what you try to show, but to him it is. That’s you. He doesn’t take those things lightly.”

You grumbled, taking the last bite and licking your fingers before Bucky handed you a napkin. “I had it under control.”

He smirked, catching another whiff of Steve’s cologne when your arm reached up towards him. “Sure, ya did. Hey, when’s the last time you washed that hoodie? Surprised you wouldn’t wanna use that old thing as a napkin,” he said in a playful tone, laughter almost emerging from his voice.

Evidently you didn’t want to wash it. You wanted to keep it clean, let it have this scent as long as possible. After you crumbled the napkin, you threw it up towards him in the front seat before pulling your hood up.

Bucky swerved slightly, but not enough to cause concern. “Hey, watch it. I’m in charge of your safety up here. I’ve gotta deliver us both unharmed. It’s paramount.”

You’d just about had enough of this oddly chipper attitude from him. Bucky was very obviously excited to see Bee again and you couldn’t blame him. Their relationship was honest from the start. The small tinge of normalcy you’d had for a second started to wear off again, though, as that weight began to sink back onto your shoulders. You pulled your hoodie strings tight around your face, letting the smell and the comfort fully engulf you, and hoping to catch just a little more sleep before the long day ahead.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck off, Bucket.”

When you pulled up to the farm, you were gently shaken awake by someone who had climbed in the back seat with you so that they didn’t open the door you were leaning against and make you fall out. When your eyes fluttered open, though, you were met with a face you hardly recognized, causing you to spring into action and punch him right in the nose, not that hard, but also not that lightly.

The young man in flannel in front of you clattered into the back of the passenger seat, holding his nose, when you finally recognized him. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! You’re that kid who works for Bucky. Are you okay?”

He nodded, backing away and out the other side of the vehicle, scrambling to get away quickly, not sure if you’d hit him again, just based off association. “Yeah, yeah, all good.”

You could hardly hear him, voice fading as he ran into the house.

You took his words at face value, finally reorienting yourself to where you were now, seeing the green and gold landscapes and red barns outside your window. Right. Bee’s farm. For the bet. With the mob bosses. Gone was your concern as your angry face, or really more of an attempt of a flat affect came back.

You slid across the back seat, empty of the bakery box that was once there, and moved to get out of the door that was left open. When you emerged, you were met with the sight of Bee and Cherry picking through the pastries you had left behind, their nervously smiling faces lit up by the mid morning sun.

“Decks! Good morning! It’s so good to see you.”

Bee gave you a side hug you didn’t return and Cherry gave you a little wave before giving Curtis a little bite of her croissant. Gross.

Curtis thanked her with a kiss on the cheek before coming over to you and giving a bear hug, despite the way you tried to push him off. Eventually, you relented, relaxing in his hold, that of a long-time, good friend. He rubbed his hand against the top of your hood, messing up the hair underneath, before returning to Cherry’s side, grabbing his own pastry out of the box.

A small “hi” was all you could muster up to use to greet the three of them, but it was enough. You pointed over your shoulder to indicate you were going to grab your bag from the trunk, finally pulling the hood off your head and turning around. When you pivoted, though, you were only met with Steve there, your bag over his shoulder like it had been so many times before, his glassy eyes taking you in.

His voice was small and scratchy like you’d never heard it before, like he’d been silent for weeks, as he mustered up a, “Hey, Decks.”

You promptly spun back around and stomped into the farm house and up the steps, passing Bucky on the way to your usual room. When you opened the door, though, you were met with the sight of a young man sitting on your bed, ice against his face and a jolt when he saw you bust in.

“Uh, hi Miss Decks. Can I help you?” You groaned at the weird formality, but were in no mood for something like this to throw you off on such an important day.

“Yeah. You can get out of my room. You’re gonna share the other spare with Steve. No questions, okay?”

He simply nodded, beginning to grab his stuff as you stripped the bed of its sheets. He was actually complying very nicely, so you felt bad for being so assertive with him…and punching him in the face.

“So what’s your name and what’s your job?”

He stopped and looked at you, confusion and fear riddling his face. “I-I’m Peter, miss. I was assigned to stay here to help with shipments and watching over miss Honeybee. I just go wherever they say. Sometimes do tech, sometimes intelligence. Really anything.”

You nodded and hummed, pulling a new set of bedding out of the top of the closet. “So what exactly does that make you, Peter? Fourth in command?”

He cocked his head to the side, zipping up a bag, before helping you put on the new sheets. “I guess I never thought about that, but no. Technically I think I’d be fifth at least.”

You nodded along, grateful for the acquiescence that seemed to run through this organization and his kindness you were evidently not returning. With all the stress, though, you didn’t even really have the time to wonder who was number four. He finished gathering everything in his arms and sprinted out the door, across the hall to Steve’s room, before realizing there were three guest rooms and he might be able to take the last one, depending on where Bucky planned to stay. Out of indecision, he just dropped everything at the end of the hallway and went back downstairs, leaving you to lay over the comforter in contemplation. Peace wasn’t something that would come to you today.

It was early afternoon when Cherry finally came up to find you, not the person you would’ve expected to do so. She knocked on your door with a sweet smile.

“Hey, Decks. I know you’re probably in game mode, but Bee thought it might be a good idea for you to come over to my place. We can pick you out a nice outfit for tonight. Eat something, maybe? It’s my understanding you haven’t had anything since early this morning and apparently, from what I’ve been told, ‘the good stuff’ is waiting for you at my apartment. And it’s no boys allowed for this afternoon. You get to do whatever you need to get in the zone without distraction. How does that sound?”

You groaned before you nodded, launching yourself up out of the bed quickly to a seated position. “Yeah…that’s good. I mean, I already have an outfit, but that’ll be good. Let me just hit the bathroom real quick and I’ll meet you in the driveway, okay?”

She nodded with another soft smile and went back down the steps.

Soon after she was gone and you’d gathered what you needed, not even bothering to consider how your bag had made it to the corner by the doorway of your room, you shuffled over to the bathroom in your socked feet and washed your face. When you were all dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. It was you, but it was different. Not unrecognizable, but maybe barely.

Exhaustion laced your features. Dark bags had settled under your eyes from the lack of sleep. You were in a perpetual state of puffiness from all the crying you’d kept to yourself, yet everything just looked…sunken. Like, saggy with sadness. You smiled, trying to boost your mood, make it feel like you weren’t going through hell. Trying to put on a brave face for your friend and her world. Everything this whole week was a lot, and as much as you were trying to ice out the terror, you could feel it seeping through the cracks. One final smile and one final wipe of your nose, and you were ready to go, galloping down the staircase and out to Bee’s truck where she was already waiting for you. You slid up in the seat, squeezing Cherry between the two of you, and went on your way towards town.

When you got to Cherry’s apartment, there were bowls of pasta sitting on her small dining room table that must’ve been for you. Ah yes, that was probably ‘the good stuff’ she was referring to. Cherry immediately went to the kitchen to grab bowls and utensils, handing them to you and Bee, as you took in the scent of the the still-steaming arrangement.

Despite your feelings toward everything Steve lately, the gesture and nostalgia still warmed you. The three of you sat, as you savored every bite in silence, Bee and Cherry holding soft conversation on the side and respecting your wishes until the meal was done and you felt just a little bit better. A little bet fuller in your heart and your stomach.

You didn’t have to worry as Bee and Cherry assured you that they’d clean everything up, directing you towards the bedroom where you’d found something else sitting there, waiting for you to find it. It was a record player, just like the one in your apartment. The one you’d promised Steve you’d play the song on before you’d fallen asleep to that old movie. And next to it was a stack of vinyls, some you recognized as the same as your collection, plus some new ones you’d mentioned you liked before, but never got the chance to acquire. On the stack was a small sticky note that said:

“You got this, Decky. -SR”

You couldn’t help the way a smile crept onto your face at his thoughtfulness. Sure, you were mad at him, but this was far from a cheap gesture. It was just what you needed to fully lock in, and maybe raise your spirits to get through tonight and do this for someone besides yourself. You put on a record, mood brightening by the minute, and began swaying through the room until Cherry and Bee came in to meet you.

Their faces lit up seeing your slightly improved mood, this moment acting like a brief reprieve from a day constantly growing in intensity. The two of them began rifling through the closet, pulling out a bunch of outfits for you to try, and throwing them into a pile on the bed. At least you had your music.

When Cherry’s shift at the bar was set to start, the three of you drove over, you wearing a short, flouncy tennis dress that was far from what you were used to. The clothes you had packed for this evening were just jeans and a tee, but according to your friend, that wasn’t good enough, so here you found yourself in something completely out of character. At least it had shorts underneath.

You were about an hour early for the match, but the bar was already buzzing with patrons. As Cherry went to clock in, you could see the group of guys already sitting in the booth, talking in hushed whispers until you and Bee approached. Bee instantly gravitated towards Bucky’s lap with a kiss, and you were going to sit next to Curtis, but he stood up, passing you with a nod and heading straight for the bar with Cherry. So much for having a buffer.

You were left to sit next to Steve, your already nervous state making you shake and avoid eye contact, whether you wanted to or not. Bucky sat up, saying something about checking with guards and Bee followed him, leaving the two of you alone, sitting too close for how much room the booth had now gained.

You took in a shuddering breath, looking around the crowded room, seeing the pool tables and envisioning the event that was about to go down. You felt so isolated in that moment, before you felt a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“Decks, sweetheart. You there? You alright?” You looked up and to your side at Steve, the seclusion of the tall seats allowing him to be the only one who could see the tears in your eyes. Here you were, all dolled up at the hands of Cherry, about to ruin it, but that was the least of your worries. The pressure was about to crash over you and Steve needed to seal those dam walls before a flood broke out.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you and me take a second to go into the break room or something? We have the time.”

You simply nodded and scooted out of the booth. Steve grabbed the hat off the top of his head, placing it on yours to hide your distraught face from any possible prying eyes before grabbing your hand and rushing the two of you across the dance floor.

He’d seen most of your range of emotions. He’d seen you playful, he’d seen you focused, he’d seen you happy, he’d never get enough of that, he’d seen you mad, probably more than enough for a lifetime, but he’d never seen you quite like this, with tears threatening to spill over.

Before you knew it, you were on an old couch in a back room you had never seen before, crying into Steve’s chest as he held you closely, hand rubbing your back, and shushing you gently.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You got this. Hey, look at me. You can do it.”

You pulled your hands up to wipe your eyes as Steve searched the room to find you tissues, dabbing away the wetness as you sniffled.

“Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. What can I do to help? What’s on your mind?”

You tried to speak, but you were gasping for air. The farthest thing from your mind was anger at him, or the pet name. You just wanted comfort. Steve began demonstrating deep breaths in front of you, helping you to calm down until it worked. He started to blow a cool stream of air towards your face, drying more of the wetness, and rubbing his large, warm hands up your arms, redirecting your focus to the gestures. Finally you were almost fully settled and ready to talk.

“I’m just so…scared. Sure, I’ve dealt with things that were high-stress before, but never with this high of stakes. I didn’t ask to be dragged into all of this, but now the whole mess hinges on me. This entire thing. Legitimate lives are riding on me. That’s a lot.”

Steve nodded along. He got it. This was hard, and it was a lot of pressure, especially since it all came crashing towards you at once. He wished there was something he could do to fix it, to take some of that off of you, but he couldn’t. He felt like he was the reason it was all hitting so hard in the first place. All he could do was try and keep you pumped up, and ready to go for tonight. He knew you had a game face, maybe he could help you put that on so you could beat these pricks once and for all. Maybe that would be enough for him. He knew you were giving him a chance, just for tonight because Bee was mostly what mattered, and he was going to make the most of that opportunity while it lasted.

He ran his hand over your hair, pulling you close one last time and planting a kiss to your hairline before sighing and slapping his hands on his knees to get up.

“Alright, up we go. C’mon.” He held out his hand for you, but all you did was sit there and look at him confused.

“Unfortunately, you don’t have all night, Decky. Stand, or I’m dragging you.”

You must not have moved fast enough, because before you knew it, your floppy body had been pulled to its feet and Steve was slowly manipulating each part. He kicked your one foot back, widening your stance, and bent each arm, curling your fingers into fists. He moved in front of you, holding up his hands, flat and open, just like boxing practice. He bounced between his feet on the ground, shifting back and forth.

“Alright, go for it. Let’s see what you got.” You huffed, landing a weak punch against his palm, and Steve laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Let’s go, Decks. I know you’re better than that. Harder. Get angry.”

And you did, you punched harder, you punched faster, and you were relentless, raging in a rain of fists, jitters long gone and replaced with a fire of fury. Fuck Cole. And fuck Lloyd. And fuck this whole fucked up mess of misogyny that threatened the livelihood of an innocent woman.

Steve grabbed your fists, snapping you out of it as you stood there, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. “There it is. Use that.” He looked at you intently, imploring you to be yourself, the confident, driven, capable woman he knew. You were back, if only for a few hours, but that was all he needed.

You settled yourself with a single breath, hands falling to your sides after you smoothed your dress and grabbed Steve’s hat back off where it had fallen onto the couch when you threw your head at his chest. You stood there with your eyes closed for a second. “Steven, do I still look okay? Bee said I have to look hot to distract these pieces of shit, and I’d hate to know that I’ve got a hair out of place. Please fix it before I go back out there.”

Steve smiled, just a little one he knew you couldn’t see, as he took a walk around you, tugging down the back of your dress and gently combing his fingers through your hair, taking his thumbs to swipe over your cheeks and fix the slight run of makeup from your tears. He gently grabbed the hat out of your tight clutch, playing with the brim. “You, uh…you want my hat? Would that make you feel better? Preserve an air of mystery and make you not have to look directly at the ‘pieces of shit?’”

You revealed a small, soft smile he thought he’d never see again and nodded, opening your eyes as he placed it back on your head, straightening it just so. He smiled just as sweetly when he saw you, actually saw you for the first time in awhile. Then, you weren’t sure what was happening as he squatted down in front of you, closing his eyes just like you had before.

“Okay, now it’s your turn to fix my hair before we go back out there. You messed it up when I gave you my hat.”

You strutted back out into the bar, face stoic, and stride powerful, your skirt flowing from the speed. Steve was a few steps behind you, surveying the area to see Bucky and Bee had returned, chatting with two men by the pool table.

You clocked them as well, not recognizing the two, but seeing one in an oddly crisp brown jacket, common for the area, but usually more beaten up on the folk around here, and the other in a knitted, collared shirt, nose pronounced by the neatly trimmed mustache underneath. Far too fancy for a place like this. These must be the men.

You walked up to Bee’s side, noticing her tight-lipped smile. “Decks, this is Cole, and this is Lloyd. He’ll be playing against you.”

You simply nodded, taking a step back. These men obviously had no desire for handshakes, only giving you a curt nod as well, as Lloyd stepped away, pulling a pool cue out of a case.

You rolled your eyes under the brim of the hat. Of course this rich prick had his own cue. You walked over to where Steve was at the rack of cues on the wall, looking at each and evaluating which one looked the best after years of wear and tear in the old joint. He pulled one down, wordlessly asking if it worked and you nodded, handing him a little block of chalk.

“Will you hold this for me throughout the game? And a glass of water please?” He nodded and headed to the bar, ready to be at your service.

When you returned to the table, negotiations had already been made and Lloyd was starting. That already put him at an advantage, but it would be fine, as long as he couldn’t get all the balls in on the first try.

His break was successful. Sharp, forceful, and precise: something that seemed mimetic of his pristine and obnoxious appearance. With two striped balls in the pockets, he went for the next one, and the next one, of your favorite suit. It was bad enough that you had to play solids, but he was surprisingly doing well. On his attempt for a sixth sink, though, he missed, giving you the chance to step in.

You took a sip of the water in Steve’s hand, rubbing the tip of your cue with the chalk in his other. You took a deep breath, leaning over the table for your first shot. It was the furthest thing from your mind, but Steve, and hell, everyone around, took notice of you bending over for it. Steve’s eyes quickly averted, though, going straight to Lloyd and Cole, as they were shamelessly gawking, doing what you’d said they would, and hopefully losing their if focus because of it. Your jaw ticked. You were angry, and you were focused, and you were fed up, and you were ready to go. There was no way you were going to mess up. You took your shot. Sunk.

That was followed by four more, easy angles, at least for you. You didn’t even look at the two men your were competing against. The only other person you could see in your zone of focus was Steve, if that, mostly because he was holding the materials you needed to win. Anyone else, anything else, was the enemy. Blocked. This was about winning, just like the years of swindling this game had set you up for. Seven hits, seven successes, one left, so you called the pocket. It was intense, and your face was unreadable. You took the shot, not even looking to see it go in, because you knew it would. Instead, your face was turned towards the two out-of-place men, your lips slowly growing smug as small crowd that had gathered around the table erupted in cheers.

You dropped your cue on the table, waltzing up to Lloyd as Bee stood in front of Cole.

You pointed a finger into the expensive fabric on the man in front of you and looked up into his eyes, dark like the deepest, deadest ocean.

“A deal is a deal and you just lost. Now hop off from my friend’s and all the other businesses I hear you’ve been harassing. Aren’t you guys all about your word?”

You were taken aback by the dark chuckle you were met with. “Oh, cupcake, that’s cute. You think I got this far on my word? No way. You may have won this fool’s game, but you all have yet to start mine.”

After gesturing over to Cole, he put his hand over his chest, dramatically gasping in a mocking manner.

“Oh no. Where’d your precious cheese curd go?”

Your head whipped over to the bar where you’d last seen him, but were met with the sight of an empty stool. Curtis was missing.

At this point, you didn’t care about the scene you were about to make, because that crossed a line. Curtis hardly had anything to do with this entire situation and they kidnapped him? Fucking why? Before you could even register what was going on, you lunged for Lloyd, trying to punch and scratch at him, but only hitting air. Something had caught you in the middle of your movement, picking you up, leaving you kicking and clawing at nothing, but you still had your voice. Curtis was innocent, and like a brother to you, and he didn’t deserve whatever this was. So you screamed, flailing in Steve’s arms, you’d know his arms and the smell of his cologne anywhere, but that wasn’t really what you were focused on right now.

“FUCK YOU, LLOYD! FUCK YOU AND THAT UGLY ASS MUSTACHE!! FUCK YOU FOR BREAKING A PROMISE!!!”

Out of the corner of your eye, even as you were backed away, you could see Cole shift and hold his hands up. “I swear. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t know about any of this.”

You knew how much it sucked to be left out of the loop, but you still didn’t feel sorry. Cole was literally trying to commandeer the farm. He was far from innocent. You wiggled and turned as much as you could in Steve’s tight hold.

“And fuck you, too, Cole!! You ruined chocolate milk for me!”

The last thing you could see before the crowd descended was Bucky delivering a swift blow to Lloyd’s jaw, followed by him grabbing Cole by the collar.

Your attention was pulled to something else, though, by Steve’s hands on either side of your face once he had set you on a bar stool. “Decks, Decks! I need you to look at me.”

His nose was almost to yours. “I need you to watch Cherry. I have to go and check on the guards. See what happened out there and if Curtis is really gone. You need find out what happened in here. Take this.”

He slipped something in your hand that you had no idea how he concealed in the simple button-up denim shirt and jeans he was wearing. “Take out anyone who comes at you that you don’t know.”

You looked down at what was in your grasp: a small throwing knife. Without waiting a second, you snapped into survival mode, jumping behind the bar with Cherry. No one was around the two of you right now, luckily, as a full-on bar brawl had broken out.

You turned your body towards Cherry, but your head was on a swivel watching your surroundings. “So tell me what happened. When did Curtis disappear? Did you see anything?”

She frantically shook her head. “No, a-all I know is that some girl asked me to pour her a drink. She had a bunch of specifications, and when I made it and turned back around, Curtis was gone, and so was she.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What did she look like?”

“I don’t know? Kinda short, dark hair? Annoyingly fit? Now that I think about it, kinda like the female version of the guy you were playing pool against. That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

You threw your head back. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. It was probably Lilian.

“Ah, shit.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: The moments between Decks and Steve here were much softer than I’d anticipated them to be, but there are so many different ways to act under stress, and I think it means a lot that she’s not necessarily able to stay in her normal cold manner of upsettedness when there’s so much at stake beyond just her. Things change when others are depending on you.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

[mysteriesmuse]

“Whoops! Watch the Jacket.”

A/N aight idk bout anyone else’s campus but mine has been wet and miserable allllll week as so that is what has inspired me to write this! enjoy some warm and fuzzies instead of the wet and ickies 🥰. ——————

You had just made it to Dynamites agency . . . you were busy aggressively shaking off your umbrella underneath the roof and awning of the entrance way to the Dynamite Agency before stomping your way in through the giant glass double doors. Quickly, you hastily put your umbrella in the little umbrella stand, which was understandably full at the moment. Oh how you wished the relentless sky would open up and show the sun again . . . or some regular non-rain clouds. You could go for that too Nevertheless, you stomped your cute little rain boots off onto the mat. Taking care to wipe your feet, trying not to track anything in. You squeaked your way into the lobby.

———

Bakugou’s agency was always bustling, even despite the awful rainy season weather hitting Japan lately: tsuyu. A handful of sidekicks breezed past you as you pulled back the hood of your raincoat and wrinkled your nose at the dispersal of rain water onto your face that accompanied it. Just as the next smattering of sidekicks went past you towards the door, a sneeze shook your chest and ruffled your hair. “Ah-choo!” Dynamites team all turned and beamed at you. All hastily saying a ‘bless you’ as they made like the red sea and parted around you. you gave a sheepish smile back as you waved to some familiar faces of the team, just before seeing Bakugou himself.

——— There was Katsuki Bakugou in all his glory. He was wearing his causal work outfit: a tight thin ribbed turtleneck, olive cargo pants, and his signature pair of clunky boots. His broad and muscled back was facing you. deliciously defined muscle teasing you underneath the thin layer of his, surely warm, sweater. He turned. A flash of gold caught your eye amongst his fuzzy ash blonde hair; his earring. He turned. and faced you, furrowed brows easing up as he saw you. Crimson pools shimmering, a sparkling smile, crinkled eyes, as he approached you. Large footfalls striding over to you with his arms held out in a t - buff arms itching to hold you in an embrace.

A chain glimmered around his collarbone. - the one you got him for his birthday last year

His husky voice enveloped you faster than you could move.

“Kat!” Arms already pressing you close to his chest,

“Babe, M’ missed ya’. Whatcha - shit.”

You tried warning him. Stupid hero reflexes and speed. Tilting your head, you brushed your cheek against his pec to better see his face. a little pout pushed his plush bottom lip out above his stumbly chin - you mummered a honeyed tease, your arms still clamped to your sides in his embrace.

“What Katsuki?” “M’ all wet now.”

“I know. I just came from outside. If you’d let me just take my coat off then this wouldn’t be - HEY WHAT’RE YOU?!!” ———

faster than you could think Katsuki had forcefully unzipped your jacket amoungst your blabbering and thrown it onto the receptionist table. Katauki picked you up as your arms dumbfoundedly rested on his shoulders before blinking out of your stupor as the man stared at you with a blank face, but with an intoxicatingly loving stare. Before your brain finally acknowledged what was happening and you wound your arms tightly around his neck. He breathed you in; placing chapped kiss to the wet and shivering skin of your neck. mummbling out a “missed you, sunshine” that made you giggle as the stubble around his jaw tickled your skin. ——— pulling back you grinned, holding his face in your chilly hands as he beamed at you like you were the sun, the stars, and the moon. Katsuki leaned in to press your noses together thoughtfully and in the sternest voice he said, “just tryin’ to warm ya’ up. y’re cold.” and you just closed your eyes and beamed in your boyfriends embrace. nose rubbing against your in an ecstatic eskimo kiss all bc he heard your sneeze and decided you were too cold for being inside.

espically when he, your excellent explosion boyfriend, was right there to warm you up.

[seaside-lovers-archive]

Learning to Trust Again

art by @/shadowmisfire | divider by @/chachachannah

Scarecrow is visited by a new friend who brings him a gift.

Word count: 1,079 words

Scarecrow lay in the darkness, curled up into the corner as tightly as he possibly could, cursing his masters for their decisions. Of all the things for us to share, the ability to feel pain is one they had to give… Every part of his body ached, his joints creaking in protest as he shifted, trying to get comfortable under the pile of cushions.

While he certainly was not going to turn down the opportunity to live once again, he certainly had not missed the physical pains that came with life. While his kind were certainly made to be healed at least once, a second time was mostly unheard of, and being brought back from the dead was thought to be impossible… until he found himself back on his home planet with a human ship several hundred feet away.

He shifted again, his neck stiff against the pillow which provided little comfort against the wooden slats. A human shelter would never have been his first choice but he was not going to reject shelter. He was wiser than that. Any shelter was better than no shelter, especially considering the weather patterns of Alpha Centauri had been rainy lately. Rain would not help his body at all.

A noise, shuffling of small feet against dirt. His sensors lit up like explosions, alerting him to a possible threat. Despite his aching body, he was up in an instant, lasers powering up, ready to fight for his newly given life.

“Scarecrow…? It’s me. I wanted to check on you.” The barn door creaked open, Kate’s silhouette bright against the dim atmosphere outside.

He forced himself to relax, powering down his lasers and tucking his upper arms back into their place. He realized his body was shivering and his joints flaring, being reminded of electricity coursing through them. You’re not in danger. You’re fine. She’s not going to hurt you. This mantra repeated in his head over and over again, trying to remind him that this was not a bad human.

He took a moment to force himself to focus on her as she gently closed the door behind her, then approached the ladder that led to his loft. “Can I come up?”

He slowly approached the ledge and peered over, staring down at the human. She stared right back up at him, blinking slowly, waiting for his permission.

He gestured for her to climb, then retreated back to his corner, listening to her footsteps and light humming.

She approached him slowly and carefully. Scarecrow assumed he scared her - he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He could easily rip her to shreds if he wanted to. And yet, despite his assumption, she didn’t seem to actually fear him in any way. Her cautiousness seemed almost… respectful, in a way.

She smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling, and held out something - he had not noticed it tucked under her arm before.

A blanket.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, still smiling. There - that was a hint of nervousness. His first meeting with her after she had offered the barn to him was similar - that never-disappearing smile, a sign of her not knowing how to handle what she had gotten herself into. 

He craned his neck to get a better look at it - the material seemed soft, dyed a dark red with white symbols scattered across it. The human interpretation of stars, he noted. He stayed where he was, staring at the blanket, then looking up at her. What would I need a blanket for? 

Kate’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I figured the cushions aren’t much protection against the cold. Maybe you don’t even get cold… but something soft might still be a comfort to you.” 

He tilted his head to the side, curiosity getting the better of him, then reached forward slowly. Taking the blanket from her outstretched hand, he felt his claws gently trace along her rough soft fingers as he drew his arm back. Scarecrow held the blanket up in front of his screen, inspecting it further.

A comfort. That was a good word to use for the blanket. He had always been fond of red, and the blanket was a nice shade. While he scoffed at the crudely shaped stars, he still liked the way the white broke up the continuous red and formed a nice pattern. He finally drew the blanket up to his chest and began to knead it, enjoying the feeling of the material under his claw.

Scarecrow glanced back up after a few moments to see Kate smiling again, a much more relaxed smile than before. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned and began to walk toward the ladder, waving to him at the same time. “Let me know if you need anything else, Scarecrow. You know where to find me.” As she began her descent down the ladder, Scarecrow found himself feeling more trustful of a human than he had in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

Kate paused momentarily, turning back to face him, eyebrows raised. “Well… you’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile before turning back and climbing down the ladder. He listened carefully as she exited the barn, the sound of her footsteps and quiet humming fading into the rain.

Well, she was certainly right about the blanket. He was much more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He began to knead the blanket with both of his lower arms, feeling a rumbling starting up deep in his chest as he enjoyed the texture. 

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this source of purring isn’t just because of the blanket. An image of Kate smiling warmly at him flitted through his mind, but he quickly squashed that thought back down into the dark recesses of his memories; he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with that whole situation yet. 

He would, in time.

How that would go, he had no clue. But he knew he had her patience, and she had given him all the time in the world to build up his trust.

Soon, perhaps, we can get to know her better, he thought, settling back down into the cushions with the blanket wrapped in his arms. The pattering of rain continued as he was lulled into rest mode, thoughts of Kate’s smile warming him from the inside out.

[seaside-lovers]

Learning to Trust Again

art by @/barb8tos | divider by @/chachachannah | reblogs appreciated <3

Scarecrow is visited by a new friend who brings him a gift.

Scarecrow lay in the darkness, curled up into the corner as tightly as he possibly could, cursing his masters for their decisions. Of all the things for us to share, the ability to feel pain is one they had to give… Every part of his body ached, his joints creaking in protest as he shifted, trying to get comfortable under the pile of cushions.

While he certainly was not going to turn down the opportunity to live once again, he certainly had not missed the physical pains that came with life. While his kind were certainly made to be healed at least once, a second time was mostly unheard of, and being brought back from the dead was thought to be impossible… until he found himself back on his home planet with a human ship several hundred feet away.

He shifted again, his neck stiff against the pillow which provided little comfort against the wooden slats. A human shelter would never have been his first choice but he was not going to reject shelter. He was wiser than that. Any shelter was better than no shelter, especially considering the weather patterns of Alpha Centauri had been rainy lately. Rain would not help his body at all.

A noise, shuffling of small feet against dirt. His sensors lit up like explosions, alerting him to a possible threat. Despite his aching body, he was up in an instant, lasers powering up, ready to fight for his newly given life.

“Scarecrow…? It’s me. I wanted to check on you.” The barn door creaked open, Kate’s silhouette bright against the dim atmosphere outside.

He forced himself to relax, powering down his lasers and tucking his upper arms back into their place. He realized his body was shivering and his joints flaring, being reminded of electricity coursing through them. You’re not in danger. You’re fine. She’s not going to hurt you. This mantra repeated in his head over and over again, trying to remind him that this was not a bad human.

He took a moment to force himself to focus on her as she gently closed the door behind her, then approached the ladder that led to his loft. “Can I come up?”

He slowly approached the ledge and peered over, staring down at the human. She stared right back up at him, blinking slowly, waiting for his permission.

He gestured for her to climb, then retreated back to his corner, listening to her footsteps and light humming.

She approached him slowly and carefully. Scarecrow assumed he scared her - he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He could easily rip her to shreds if he wanted to. And yet, despite his assumption, she didn’t seem to actually fear him in any way. Her cautiousness seemed almost… respectful, in a way.

She smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling, and held out something - he had not noticed it tucked under her arm before.

A blanket.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, still smiling. There - that was a hint of nervousness. His first meeting with her after she had offered the barn to him was similar - that never-disappearing smile, a sign of her not knowing how to handle what she had gotten herself into. 

He craned his neck to get a better look at it - the material seemed soft, dyed a dark red with white symbols scattered across it. The human interpretation of stars, he noted. He stayed where he was, staring at the blanket, then looking up at her. What would I need a blanket for? 

Kate’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I figured the cushions aren’t much protection against the cold. Maybe you don’t even get cold… but something soft might still be a comfort to you.” 

He tilted his head to the side, curiosity getting the better of him, then reached forward slowly. Taking the blanket from her outstretched hand, he felt his claws gently trace along her rough soft fingers as he drew his arm back. Scarecrow held the blanket up in front of his screen, inspecting it further.

A comfort. That was a good word to use for the blanket. He had always been fond of red, and the blanket was a nice shade. While he scoffed at the crudely shaped stars, he still liked the way the white broke up the continuous red and formed a nice pattern. He finally drew the blanket up to his chest and began to knead it, enjoying the feeling of the material under his claw.

Scarecrow glanced back up after a few moments to see Kate smiling again, a much more relaxed smile than before. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned and began to walk toward the ladder, waving to him at the same time. “Let me know if you need anything else, Scarecrow. You know where to find me.” As she began her descent down the ladder, Scarecrow found himself feeling more trustful of a human than he had in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

Kate paused momentarily, turning back to face him, eyebrows raised. “Well… you’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile before turning back and climbing down the ladder. He listened carefully as she exited the barn, the sound of her footsteps and quiet humming fading into the rain.

Well, she was certainly right about the blanket. He was much more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He began to knead the blanket with both of his lower arms, feeling a rumbling starting up deep in his chest as he enjoyed the texture. 

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this source of purring isn’t just because of the blanket. An image of Kate smiling warmly at him flitted through his mind, but he quickly squashed that thought back down into the dark recesses of his memories; he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with that whole situation yet. 

He would, in time.

How that would go, he had no clue. But he knew he had her patience, and she had given him all the time in the world to build up his trust.

Soon, perhaps, we can get to know her better, he thought, settling back down into the cushions with the blanket wrapped in his arms. The pattering of rain continued as he was lulled into rest mode, thoughts of Kate’s smile warming him from the inside out.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Boy Next Door || Pt. 4

A Choi Beomgyu Fic

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: y/n has been neighbors with an insufferable boy, Beomgyu for quite some time. When one day he wakes her up to an offer of a lifetime. A fake relationship with him, in return to get back at her ex and his fling.

Warnings: Fake relationships, beaten windows, an obnoxious Beomgyu, ex bestfriends & boyfriends, a hint of betrayal, swearing, Jake Sim is your ex lol.

{Pairing: Beomgyu x Female oc}

“Y/n, let’s go! We’re gonna be late!”

You hear the voice in the dark. It woke you up from your deep sleep. Why does Beomgyu have to come wake you up every single morning? doesn’t he have anything else better to do?

“Shut up Beomgyu! I’m getting up! Geez” You yell as you groan in frustration. Opening you eyes, you feel the puffiness in your face from the hard sleep the night before.

“Excuse me? I’m not Beomgyu, now get up!” You sit yourself up almost immediately, recognizing the voice of your mother, and getting out of bed quickly in fear.

“Sorry sorry ma! I thought you were Beomgyu!” You look around your room trying to locate the clothes you had laid out from the night before. Last night after the special kiss between you and Beomgyu, the random urge to clean your room doubled , even to lay out clothes for the morning time. The one kiss between you two had given you a boost of energy and excitement, hence the clean room.

You find the cute combination of clothes. The weather outside was rainy, and cold, and despite the predictions of a warm spring, it had been quite cold these past few days.

You picked up your cardigan. It was a white knitted cardigan, with blue stars embroidered into the right sleeve. The paired the topped with skinny jeans and plain white high top converse.

You put on the outfit and look in the mirror, examining for any wrinkles in the jeans and adjusting the cardigan to your liking. “Perfect.” You say to yourself.

You quickly move to your bed now, grabbing your comforter and sheets, tucking them over your bed and buffing your pillows.

“BING” You hear the noise, and could locate that it was coming from your phone on the nightstand.

You pick up the phone, curious to see who or what sent the notification. It was a reminder from your calendar. It said, “SPRING FORMAL - 3 DAYS” You look at the notification pensively. So many things had happened in only 4 days. Who knows what’s in store for the next 3.

You look up from the notification and find the time at the top of your phone screen.

11:45

Oh no. You had only 15 more minutes until you had to meet with Beomgyu and Mrs. Choi. Even though you had already gotten dressed, you still hadn’t put any makeup or jewelry. You haven’t even did anything to your hair! You hurry to the bathroom in your room.

You look at the counter top in the bathroom, finally finding what you were looking for. The makeup bag in the corner of the room, where the wall meets the countertop.

You grab the bag and fix your make up diligently, carefully putting on the dark mascara, and applying your light lip gloss with concentration.

You had finally finished your makeup in a quick routine. You were onto hair next. You unraveled your hair from the mess it was in the night before. You had decided to go with a simpler hairstyle that suited your hair texture best.

Just as you finished your hair, “Y/n, let’s go! They’re here!” Your mom shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

In return, you grab your phone from the counter, and turn off all of the lights in your room, before leaving and heading downstairs.

You see your mom opening the door and stepping outside, about to close it, but just in time you get down the stairs and make your way through the front door. Quickly behind your mother.

“Well that was a close call! I almost hit you!” Your mother laughed out. She turned to you, putting her hands on your cheeks and examining your face for any scratches or bruises dramatically.

You laugh back at her, “I’m fine mom” You pull from her touch.

“You ready hon’?” She looks at you and back at the Choi’s home.

“I guess I better be” You sigh as you make the first couple steps to their house, your mom following quickly behind.

You walk carefully through the grass, the rain had just stopped from earlier this morning and it had left a dew in the green grass.

“How are you, bug?” She looks up from the ground and asks you the question. She stopped in her tracks to look at you.

“I’m okay, I already told you mom, you didn’t hit me” You tell her in a nonchalant tone. You just wanted to get to their house in time.

“I mean, how are you?” She asks you, following quickly behind with her reasoning to ask. “Yesterday was the first time you ever saw Jake in two years, and Beomgyu kissed you. You had yourself quite the day.”

“Yeah, I guess I did, but i’m okay. Now let’s go before they leave us.” You chuckle, quickly brushing off the comment from your mother.

~~

You and your mom finally get to the front door step of the house next door. You knock lightly, letting Beomgyu and his mom know that you were there.

“Coming guys!” You hear a male voice shout lightly, you could assume that it belonged Beomgyu’s by the very light lisp at the end of his sentence.

You feel a rush of excitement travel to your stomach. Oddly enough, you had kind of missed Beomgyu throughout the twelve hours you hadn’t seen him. You could still feel the strawberry chapstick that came off of his lips when you kissed him, or the smile on his face after.

“You guys ready to go?” You hear the voice in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was Beomgyu. Smiling at you and your mom lightly.

“We are” Your mom replied back sweetly. In return Beomgyu shouted for his mom, letting her know that we had gotten here and we were ready. After, he stepped outside of the house, and shut the door behind him.

“How are you?” He asks you, looking into your eyes deeply. You could feel a small ball of heat creep onto your cheeks and throughout your cheeks.

A simple “I’m okay” is all you could reply back with, still semi frozen by his strong gaze. Why did he always have to make you so nervous.

Behind him, you could see his mom through the window door trailing behind him, on our way to us.

The door opened up with Mrs. Choi behind it. She had a big smile on her face. That one smile could put your mind at ease, you were still nervous about shopping for Beomgyu. Considering what happened yesterday when you went shopping, you really didn’t have a clue what you were in for.

“Are you guys ready!?” His mom chirped up, dangling the keys in her hand.

~~~

The car ride was longer than the ride to the dress boutique yesterday. The rainy weather had made you tired, but the long narrow and curvy roads never failed to make you queasy.

You had decided to listen to some music on the way there. You weren’t in the mood for small talk, plus you felt an extreme amount of bubbles in your stomach every time you looked at Beomgyu. You thought that it might’ve just been because of what happened yesterday, or from the fact that you were going to prom with the guy. Either way, your feelings for him were something you’d have to examine another time. Definitely not in the car with him.

“Only a couple more minutes guys, It’s a bit of a drive!” Mrs. Choi speaks out to the group. You turn to Beomgyu, tapping his arm, pushing him up from his small car nap. “Only a few minutes til’ we get there, Gyu” You whisper, trying not to disturb his peaceful sleep.

“Okay, thank you” He says in a groggy voice. He didn’t attempt to open his eyes at you, you could tell he had been tired.

Before you could reply back to him, The car made a sharp turn right, shoving Beomgyu into your side (and of course was not wearing a seat belt).

“My moms driving is bad as mine” He says in a sleepy, hoarse voice. With his eyes still closed and his body still half asleep.

“Hey! My driving is not bad as yours!” Mrs. Choi says looking through the rear view mirror, trying to find some sort of eye contact with Beogmyu, but his eyes made no attempt on opening.

“Are you excited, Gyu?” You looked over to your left, where he was, sleeping very softly with his head on your shoulder. The light tapping of the rain on the car, and the scenic views from outside the window, it made it almost easy to drift to sleep.

“I’m okay” He says, not quite fully answering your question, but it was close enough.

You could feel yourself getting sleepy yourself, the tears on the window that were coming from the rain, made your body relax and your brain calm down.

~~

“Y/n/n, get up loser” You heard a nasally voice, one that you would usually hear from someone who had just woken up, along with the slight lisp in the words.

You turn your head to look up, and to your eyes, you see a messy haired Beomgyu.

“Hey weirdo” You smile at him, still waking up from your short nap yourself.

“Cmon, let’s go, our moms are waiting for us.” He whispered to you sweetly, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting himself out of the car.

~~~

“So here it is” Beomgyu says. Both of you had walked up to the boutique and followed inside. The outside was much different than the inside. It was just as beautiful as the boutique you were at earlier this week, except, it was in the middle of nowhere and it was only for tuxedos.

“I though we’d come here ya’ know, it’s got some pretty cool suits, I mean, we are here to dress to impress” He sends a wink at you, but you were unfazed. You were too busy looking around at all the bright forest green colors around the place, all kinds of suits, ties, and everything a man would need to dress up for.

“Are you ready to try on some suits, Mr. Choi?” A bright voice comes towards you two, followed closely by your mom and his. “I’m Jason, i’ll be your stylist today!” He says, putting his hand out to shake Beomgyu’s.

You three follow Jason and Beomgyu to the dressing rooms, with some outfits already picked out by Jason. You follow them into the waiting room, one right beside the dressing room. “You pretty ladies can wait here! Don’t worry, we’ll be out soon” Jason says, sending a silly wink your way. You smile at him shyly while taking a seat.

Beomgyu walks up to you, holding out his phone for you to take. “Hold this for me, can you?”

“Sure” You take his phone and place it in your lap, along with your phone and house keys.

~~

You sit quietly, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He had been in the dressing room for a while, trying on different suits, but to his discretion, he hadn’t quite found one that he liked enough to show to all of us.

Is this getting too out of hand?

The sudden thought pulses through your brain. Before you can elaborate an answer, the phone in your lap dings and in curiosity, you pick it up.

It’s a text from Beomgyu’s phone.

Hazel: Hey Gyu, can’t wait 2 see you tmr on our dd, i’ve missed you….

You read the text on the screen over and over again. Could this all be true? Hazel randomly texting Beomgyu the day before you all meet up (against your will of course) It just didn’t make sense. Hazel isn’t the type to text someone first, even if she did want to talk to them.

You could tell it was her by her awful abbreviations like “2” instead of “to” and “dd” for double date. She had the grammar of a 5th grader and a mindset of a home-wrecker.

You think to yourself, Beomgyu had must’ve texted her first. The thought made a ping in your chest, it was hard to believe that he could possibly be going back on his word about the deal and getting back with her?

“You okay, hun?” Your mom asks you, erasing the thoughts from your head. You shake your head up and down in response, not being able to find the right words to say, and even if you did there was a doubt you could even say them.

“Okay guys! I think I found the one, you wanna see y/n?” You hear the familiar voice come out of the dressing room and into the waiting area.

He looks handsome, you can’t lie, the thought of him in that suit, and taking hazel to the spring formal made you sick to your stomach, but you hid any emotion just for the sake of no drama.

“You look good gyu, you always do” There was a glow to his eyes when you said that to him, his smile rose up, lighting up his whole face. “You really think so! What about you mom? What do you think?” He turns to his moms side, posing for her as she gives an answer, “I agree with y/n, you look very handsome” She smiled brightly at her son. They had the same familiar glow to their eyes when something made them happy. It was beautiful.

You suddenly felt bad at the thought of confronting him about hazel. What if this was the whole point? For you to get with Jake and Beomgyu get with Hazel?

You keep your thoughts to yourself as you guys make an exit out of the shop. Beomgyu getting his suit and his phone back, and you alone with your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?” Beomgyu says getting into the car. The rain had started again once you guys left the boutique, you could hear the small tapping of the rain on the car door.

“Yeah, i’m fine” You say, giving a soft, sad smile his way.

You put your airpods in and listened to the music silently. Enjoying the patterns of the rain on the car window, the rain continued to beat down onto the car. Pat! Pat! Pat! The calm pattern mellowed you into a sleepy state, the same pattern again. Pat! Pat! Pat!

~~

“It’s time to get up sleepy head” Your mom patted you awake from the passenger seat. You open your eyes up more. It was almost dark outside and The car was parked at the Choi residence. Beomgyu was no where to be found.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” You sit up from your seat, and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Oh. He left as soon as we got here. I just think he’s really tired.” Mrs. Choi said, looking back at you. He didn’t even think to say goodbye?

You and your mom had gotten all of your things and said goodbye to Mrs. Choi, thanking her for inviting y’all.

“You sure you’re okay, bug?” Your mom said softly. Rubbing your back as you guys crossed the short difference from their house to yours. “Yeah, i’m fine.”

You guys finally get to your house, and open the door up. The fresh air greets your way. Before you can do anything else, you hurry up and make your way to your room, ready to relax and wind down for tomorrow.

You plop down on your bed. The comfy sheets embracing you.

You hear a nofication from your phone. “Ughhhh” You sigh loudly, assuming that it was your mom, but to your suprise it wasn’t.

Unknown: Hey it’s Jake, can we talk?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/n: Sorry guys for the long wait! I know this chapter is a little short but don’t worry! Next chapter is probably going to be pretty long 😋 Make sure to like and reblog if you enjoy!

[drowninginthoughts27]

5/9 Train Word Count: 1120

(general angst) @jegulus-microfic

The first time James Potter met Regulus Black was on the first of September on the Hogwarts Express.

“It’s 10:56. Where is he? The train leaves at 11 o’clock sharp!” Sirius runs his fingers through his hair, stressed beyond belief.

“Again, are you sure he exists? Anyone with the name ‘Prongs’ sounds made up to me. Like an imaginary friend or something.” Regulus snorts, he’s tugging on Sirius’ jumper sleeve to try to drag him onto the train.

“Yes I’m sure he exists Reggie, unlike you I have friends!” Smirking, Sirius twists himself free from Regulus’ grasp. “Hey that’s not fair I have Pandora and Evan! They just aren’t idiots who want to risk missing their first day at Hogwarts to wait on some possibly made up boy.”

“If you wanna go and find the carriage you can but I’m waiting here until just before the clock strikes 11. He won’t miss the train believe me,” Regulus dosn’t respond to that. Having to navigate the train alone is almost worse than missing the Hogwarts Express. And as much as Regulus hates to admit it he does trust Sirius.

So he opts to just stand by Sirius’ side right in front of the open train doors, fidgeting with the hem of his new robes. Unlike Sirius who’s in an old jumper and jeans, Regulus had changed into his school robes before arriving at King’s Cross Station due to his pent up nervous excitement.

“Reggie look, he’s here! I told you he was real! I told you he would come!” Sirius is now waving his arms excitedly jumping up and down on the platform.

The boy who had previously been looking around like a lost puppy notices Sirius and starts bounding over to them. Tripping over the trunk he’s lugging every few steps.

The boy has a rather disheveled look about him. He’s on the taller side. Dark brown curls sticking up in all directions, giving the impression that he had just rolled out of bed. His chocolate eyes are full of mischievous excitement. He’s decked out in all red and gold- Gryffindor house colors. His socks are mismatched, his shoes left untied, and he sports a sloppy, toothy grin.

“James!” Sirius exclaims; still jumping up and down with joy. “You almost missed the train. We were getting worried ya know.” Sirius is now sporting an almost identical grin to the one plastered on James’ face. “This is the infamous Reggie!” Sirius says, gesturing to Regulus with a wide sweeping motion with his hands.

“Ya, sorry about that,” he says to Sirius.

And then lowering his head to match Regulus’ height he says: “Hi Reggie, it’s nice to meet you! I’m James!”

Regulus is more nervous than he was before.

No wonder Sirius had found him a replacement. He doesn’t stand a chance next to James and his obnoxiously cheery personality.

Snapping out of his trance he mumbles “Regulus is fine,” in James’ direction.

The warning whistle blows telling them it’s nearly 11. So with that all three of them rush off to go and find the carriage Remus and Pete had already claimed for the five of them.

The train ride is chaotic and weather is persistently somber but despite the rainy day outside Regulus arrives at Hogsmead Station in a weirdly good mood. The mood ends up lasting with him until well after the first years had been carted off across the Black Lake. James’ energy is apparently infectious.

———

The last time James Potter and Regulus Black Meet is on the fifth of January, back at Hogwarts.

Well it’s not truly the last time they meet but from then on out Regulus is not truly Regulus any more. He’s nothing but a shell of his former self. One known formally as Regulus Arcturus Black.

“Sirius, he's gonna come, trust me!”

“I’m not sure about that James, it’s almost 11. Regulus is never late for anything. Especially when it comes to his academics.” Sirius is getting progressively more worried by both the lack of an appearance from his brother and the growing distress in James’ voice.

“Nobody can be perfectly punctual all the time. He’ll show up, trust me,” James persists.

Just then the warning whistle that signals the trains nearing departure sounds.

“James, we have to go! We can write to him later or for all we know he might already be there,” Sirius forces out a laugh in hopes to lighten the mood.

James looks like he’s on the verge of tears and Sirius can’t have that happen.

“Now go do your head boy duties, it’ll distract you. Reggie will be back before you know it. I promise,” the minute he says it he regrets it, he can’t promise anything regarding Regulus these days.

Nearing the Christmas Holidays Regulus had become far more on edge, his actions nearing irrational, and his stress levels clearly through the roof. James just didn’t want to admit anything. He was clinging on to his last pieces of hope, living in delusion.

Halfway through dinner that night Regulus walks through the large entry doors to the Great Hall. Almost immediately James spots him.

“Always did have a flair for dramatics didn’t he,” Sirius scoffs.

“Regulus, Reg, Reggie!” James shouts to him, bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

But despite James’ countless efforts to get his boyfriend’s attention Regulus struts right over to the Slytherin table. Ignoring James completely and sitting down in between Pandora and Barty.

After dinner James makes up some lame excuse to Sirius, Peter, and Remus to hang back for a bit. Telling them that they can leave without him and that he’ll meet them back at the dorms later. He knows they can see right through him. He was miserable the remainder of dinner and barely touched his dessert. But right now he can’t find it in him to care that much.

James stands there, waiting by the exit of the dinning hall. The minute he sees Regulus walking alone to the Slytherin dorms, relief floods through him. It’s all gonna be okay, he tells himself.

Taking his chance he runs into the crowd to walk besides Regulus. This only causes Regulus to speed up.

“Wait, Reg, wait!” James is frantic now, jogging beside him. Dodging people left and right in an attempt not to run into anyone.

“Shove off Potter”

This causes James to take a step back in shock. His bottom lip is trembling, he’s stammering over incoherent words and phrases. Really just jumbles of nonsense at this point.

“It’s over!” Regulus growls “It really shouldn’t have been anything in the first place!” With that Regulus turns his shoulder on James, storming off into the crowd.

[jinkoh]

heartbreak anniversary

jinho x gn reader

summary: you're not quite over your break up with Jinho—but neither is he

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, suggestive, word count: ~2,5k

a/n: guess who really isn't normal about the last magho (and the way he pushes down his hood at 2:45 no i ofc do not know that time stamp by heart haha i'm cool i'm chill) yes it's another joji fic but who is going to write silly little fics about him that i can read before bed if not me? also i know i've used pictures from the same video before but i just couldn't make pictures from the actual magho look nice so 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Masterlist

You tried not to be a sentimental person. Getting so invested in your feelings was surely a waste of energy. But you’d never been good at controlling your emotions. Jinho had been better at that, or at least that’s what he’d liked to say. Maybe it wasn’t always true, but what he’d truly been unbeatable at was snapping you out of your anxiety spirals. It happened often—you had a tendency to overthink and get yourself worked up and Jinho had always, always noticed. He knew how to tiptoe the line between telling you the blunt truth you needed to hear without being too harsh or hurting your feelings. You could probably use that right now.

It was stupid to dwell on the past like this—Jinho would certainly have something to say about that. But you weren’t dating anymore, so it wasn’t like it was any of his business. Surely he wasn’t thinking about you nor about the fact that today was your anniversary; that exactly 3 years ago you’d made it official at that small pavilion by the beach (which honestly wasn’t half as romantic as it sounds like).

No, he surely wasn’t thinking about any of these things. Jinho didn’t have to try not to be a sentimental person. He just wasn’t.

You on the other hand couldn’t think of anything else. You were laying awake even though it was late and you had to work the next day. But you missed him so much, it felt like it was physically tearing you apart. You missed him on his side of the bed, and you missed the way he’d let you cuddle into his chest. The bed felt cold and lonely without him there.

Almost on autopilot, you slipped out from under your warm sheets, and threw on whatever clothes you found laying around before you slipped out into the night. 

The walk from your apartment to the beach wasn’t that long, ten, fifteen minutes maybe. It wasn’t midnight yet when you reached the pavilion, so technically it was still your anniversary. The weather was cold and rainy and the stars were hidden behind thick clouds, but that seemed to match your mood perfectly. You’d been here so many times, taking walks along the shore and enjoying the breeze. 

That day too hadn’t been anything special. You’d been on a walk together, like you’d been a zillion times before. As friends, of course as friends, except neither of you had felt that way anymore. You’d stopped at that pavilion, chuckled about how pitiful and shabby it looked, but with the sun setting on the ocean, you’d thought it was a tad bit romantic. So you’d said just that, almost immediately regretting it. You’d started walking again, fully expecting Jinho to snort at the sappy comment. But he hadn’t. He’d reached for your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. 

Yeah, it’s romantic.

You still remembered the sound of his voice, trembling a little with nerves. It was clear that he’d wanted to say so much more. But that’d been enough, at least for the moment.

You wondered when the two of you had stopped being enough.

For a while you blankly stared out into the night, watching the waves roll onto the beach; the white foam visible despite the darkness. It was silent, as to be expected at this time on a regular work night, especially in a small town like yours. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean and the pitter-patter of the light drizzle against the roof of the pavilion. From time to time, a seagull squawked in the distance.

You stayed until the cold felt like it was biting your skin, and then you stayed longer still, waiting for the rain to stop. It’d picked up significantly, now more of a steady shower rather than a light drizzle and you didn’t fancy getting drenched. 

The rain was also the reason you hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, only spotting the hooded figure approaching you over the promenade when he’d almost reached the pavilion. It wasn’t like there was anything intimidating about him per se, and surely he was just coming over to seek shelter, but it just seemed a little scary to share this small space with a stranger at the dead of night when no one else was around. So you stepped out into the pouring rain, leaving the pavilion in the opposite direction of the person approaching. You felt anxious, but you forced yourself to walk calmly, casually.

When you dared to steal a glance over your shoulder though, it almost seemed as if the figure was coming after you. With a racing heart you picked up your pace more, trying to put some distance between the two of you, until suddenly a familiar voice cut through the rain.

“Y/n! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks, your head snapping around. The guy had stopped, leaving a huge gap between the two of you. Full of disbelief you just stared at him for a moment.

“It’s me.” He carefully stepped closer, his arms held up in front of his body in some sort of pacifying gesture. 

“Jinho?”

He nodded, lifting his hands to slowly push down the hood of his gray sweater, as if to prove that it was really him, as if you hadn’t recognized him from the moment you’d heard his voice.  Your eyes followed the movement, and there was a weird sense of intimacy about it all that you weren’t supposed to share with him anymore.

You helplessly opened and closed your mouth a few times, wanting so desperately to say something but not a single sensible thing came to mind.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Jinho broke the silence eventually. “I didn’t think you would be.”

“Why did you come?” It sounded colder than anticipated, but you genuinely just wanted to know. It didn’t make sense that he was here.

“It’s our anniversary.”

The way he said that, as if it was a given, made your heart ache. He wasn’t supposed to think about that. He wasn’t supposed to be a sentimental person who dwelled on the past like this. And yet, it seemed as if he was, and he admitted it so easily too.

“There is no us anymore,” you replied, frail and breathy.

He nodded, averting his gaze and staring at his shoes instead. You thought his eyes looked teary, but you couldn’t be too sure, not with the rain and the darkness surrounding you.  “Right.”

It got quiet except for the rain that was still pouring down on you, until he raised his voice again.

“Why did you come?”

You shrugged, tears brimming your eyes. “It’s our anniversary.”

It was barely a whisper, your voice breaking before you could even finish the last syllable. 

Jinho rushed in, stepping closer and pulling you into his arms, as if on instinct, as if he couldn’t help himself. He held you while sobs escaped your throat and tears streamed down your face, and you clung onto him, your fingers clutching his hoodie like your life was dependent on it.

“I miss you. I just miss you so.”

“Yeah,”  he choked out, burying his face in your hair. “I miss you too.”

 The rain wouldn’t let up at all, but it hardly mattered now that both of you were already completely drenched. You weren’t sure how much time had passed with the two of you just standing there, holding onto each other. You didn’t want to know either. All you wanted was for the moment not to end. Despite shivering from the cold, you didn’t let go, too scared you’d both part ways again as if nothing had happened tonight.

It was Jinho who pulled away eventually and you wanted to stop him, pull him back in, but you couldn’t.

“I think it’s time to go home,” he whispered, raindrops running down his cheeks like tears.

You weakly shook your head. “Not yet.”

“You’ll catch a cold out here.”

“So will you.”

He sighed and there was this weird, uncomfortable tension between the two of you. Every word and every move felt like a risk, as if you were walking a tightrope and the tiniest breath of wind could make you fall.

You knew as well as he did that you couldn’t stay out here in the rain forever, but if he left now, nothing would have changed.

“Walk me home then.”

His eyes widened in surprise but then he nodded and there was the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Okay.”

The walk was quiet, the two of you just walking side by side. You were close enough for your hand to brush against his from time to time, until he reached out his pinky and intertwined it with yours. You felt your heart stop at that tiny gesture, your head turning to look at him. But Jinho didn’t meet your gaze, pointedly focusing his eyes anywhere but on you.

You didn’t let go when you reached your apartment and when he stopped outside your doorstep, you lightly tugged on his hand, urging him to come in with you.

“You’ll catch a cold out there,” you repeated his words from earlier back at him.

Still, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “Are you sure?”

“Just come in,” you replied, but what you really meant was Just come home.

The door fell shut, leaving the two of you in your half dark hallway, wet clothes sticking to your skin. 

Your fingers were still intertwined, cold hands holding onto each other. You were standing way too close, but neither of you moved. Instead, you just looked at each other, taking in every detail of each other’s faces as if to make up for lost time.

His gaze briefly darted to your lips, just for a split second, but you noticed it either way. You also noticed how he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and the corners of his mouth tensing a bit in the way they always did.

It was just a tiny movement, but it was so him. It made you realize that you must have seen it a zillion times before and more importantly that you wanted to see it a zillion times more.

When you tore your gaze away from his lips and back up to his eyes there was so much longing in them, leaving no doubt in your mind that he missed you just as much as you did. You wanted to kiss him.

“We should dry up,” he whispered.

“We should,” you replied but you didn’t really care.

His gaze wandered to your lips again, and he tentatively leaned in a bit, but then pulled away again, meeting your eyes in a question, asking for consent. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loudly you were convinced he must have heard it too. 

“Kiss me,” you pressed out, your voice trembling.

And he did, careful and hesitant, just a brush of his lips against yours, as if it was your first time all over again.

When he broke the kiss way too quickly, a small frown spread on your face. “Do it right.”

Jinho chuckled, reaching up with his thumb to smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, before he cupped your jaw and pulled you in again. He wasn’t as hesitant this time, kissing you until you felt breathless and weak in the knees.

“Was that right?” He asked with a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Almost,” you whispered against his lips. “Better do it again.”

He captured your lips once more, and it felt so familiar, almost habitual, it was as if you’d gone back to the past, as if you were an us again. 

Without letting go, the two of you stumbled through the hallway into your bedroom, shoes tossed aside somewhere along the way.

“I think—,” you breathed out between kisses, your hands tugging on the wet fabric of his hoodie, that felt cold against your fingers and must have felt even colder against his torso, “I think we should get rid of this.”

“Should we?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pushing the hem up just a little bit. “It must be cold, right? Can’t have you getting sick.”

 Jinho huffed a laugh and you felt his breath fanning over your lips. “Right, that’d be no good.”

He pulled his sweater over his head, leaving his wet hair all ruffled and sticking up and you couldn’t fight the urge to run your fingers through it and fix it. He let you, catching your wrist in his hand when you pulled away. 

“What about you?” He pressed his lips against the palm of your hand. “Aren’t you cold as well?”

 “Very much.”

You peeled yourselves out of your clothes, both of you chuckling when your wet jeans clung to your legs so badly, you struggled to get them off and stumbled back onto your bed. It was clumsy but it didn’t feel awkward, not when Jinho shook his head in amusement, nor when he helped you out of the jeans, pulling at the fabric until it finally let go of your legs. There was no room to be uncomfortable or embarrassed, you knew each other too well for that.

Once he’d tossed the jeans aside, you scooted back on the bed and reached out for him, urging him to come closer. He followed suit, propping himself up on his arms as he hovered over you, your faces mere inches apart.

“I missed you,” you whispered as you took in his face, from his dark eyes to the little mole on his upper lip. “I really, really missed you.”

A small smile spread on his face. “Me too. I missed you.”

You kissed him again then, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull his body close to your own. Most of your clothes discarded on the floor, you could feel the goosebumps on your skin and on his, your bodies chilly after being in the rain for so long. You didn’t mind though. You were shivering and trembling, cold touches against cold skin, but your bed felt warm and so did kissing him.

The rain was still pattering outside your window, coming down endlessly. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you knew it wasn’t even close to morning yet. You rested your head against Jinho’s chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. 

“What do we do now?” you whispered eventually, breaking the silence that had spread between the two of you.

“Sleep?” Was his simple response even though you both knew that wasn’t what you meant.

“And after that?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered and you felt your heart sink at the unsatisfactory response. Before you could say anything though,  Jinho pulled you a little closer, resting his chin on top of your head. “We try again.”

Masterlist

[papercutsunset]

Hiring On

related to: The Mayor Deviation

Here's another 1000-word schlock for @flashfictionfridayofficial that I had energy for this morning and then fumbled (whoopsie). It's related to the Foot Scene from The Devastation of Ben Baker; and the Tracy mentioned is the same Tracy who walked the Kenlys' children home (the nanny). Ideally, there'd be more internal monologue, but I wanted it to be snappy.

CW: Some discussion of a guy crossing sexual boundaries (nothing depicted, but it is discussed throughout).

I slap the phone into the receiver. Without a moment's hesitation, I call out through the closed door, “Dan!” 

No response. Fine. I’ll corner the coffee-making bitch.

A firm yank opens the Bifrost between my cluttered Earth and his hyper-organized Valhalla. I lock eyes with him and grin. “I may have gotten us a job.” 

“Meaning?” he chuckles, pouring creamer into an oversize mug. 

“Meaning I'm talking it over with her tonight. She's got a day job; she's skittish. I would be, too, if I worked for Todd Kenly.” 

His face goes blank. “That Todd Kenly?” 

“In the flesh.” 

“She’s Tracy Attar? The girl? As in, that Tracy Attar?” 

“The one and only.”

“Oh, god.” His skin goes pale. “Tell me you'll be careful, Chick.” 

“Hey, maybe I'm his type.” 

“You're not his type.” 

“I'm young, I'm blonde, I'm perky—” 

“You're going to be late for your other job—” 

“That’s a quality he admires!” 

“Because the man's a pervert!” Outrage spills into the unmixed creamer, splitting the broken popsicle stick more than it should. 

“Either way, between his arrest and that weird thing on the news last week—” 

“What, about his stepson?” 

“So weird that he has a stepson.” I shake my head. Conservatives all have rattling closets. Todd Kenly’s creaked open and yellow light showed he’s a foot fetishist with a hard-on for breaking and entering. The senator he's married to? She had a whole life before him— and now that both their lives include a son with some major rage issues and a weirdly tall hick stepsister. Go figure. “You man the phones; I'll go make some money to cover my rent; and we will see what comes of Todd Kenly, right?” 

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, mug at his lips. “I suppose we will.” 

“Good. Now— I am gonna be late for work.” Gill has never once cared. I do. “I'll see you at four.” 

“See you at four. I'll be here. Doing my job.”

“Playing sudoku. Thinking about your wife.” 

“No sudoku. I'm doing crosswords today.” 

“Oh, my apologies.” I wave him off haphazardly as I eyeroll out the door. He waves goodbye in the same fluid moment. 

On my way out, I almost bump into someone. She’s not just any woman. The sunglasses despite the rainy northern California weather, the habitual athleisure zipped up to cover her new-fashioned garments like the hip, down-to-it Mormon she pretends she is, the brown hair pulled up and back in a swinging ponytail, the clinking cup of water, the perpetual flicker of anger behind her eyes— I’d know Senator Rosanna Kenly anywhere. 

“Jesus, it’s just a day for the Kenlys,” I chuckle, pulling the door open wider to let her in. “Sorry about that. I was heading out.” 

“No you weren’t,” she decides. 

“I… was, actually. I have to go to… work.” 

“For Gill Spellmeyer? No you don’t. As much…” The door closes; she looks at Dan over the top of her sunglasses, leaking disapproval. “As much as I’m sure Daniel Donovan is the more competent of the two left here, this requires your touch.” 

“I didn’t know we were notorious enough for people to know I’m incompetent.” I keep buttoning up my dark-gray work shirt. “Unless you’re going to pay double my rate, I’m going to Whispermart. Sorry, Senator. Dan’s an excellent investigator. I’ll be happy to edit his work.” 

“Is that how you operate? One investigates, one edits?” 

“Yeah, actually. Did you have something you needed me to do, or…” 

Ignoring that, with her ponytail swinging, she strides toward my office. I gesture desperately to Dan. Behind the mug obscuring his face, he shrugs and goes back to rearranging whatever papers he was holding. 

“I told you,” I groan, following her, “I have to go. Could you come back tomorrow?”

“No. I’m a busy woman.” 

“I’m also busy!” 

“Not busy enough, it would seem. This office is a wreck.” Her upper lip curls with distaste.

Sighing, I decide to let it go; I move some of the files from a chair to the floor by my desk; I don’t sit. 

Huffing, like the move I made should have been done in the first place and it’s so easy to keep a space clean, she sits, crosses her legs at the knees, and looks at me with a cool impatience I can’t stomach. 

Picking up my notepad again, I click my pen. “What can I do for you, Senator Kenly? Aside from charging you double, I mean?” 

“I’d love for you to dig up anything on my husband that you can.” 

“Jesus Christ. What kind of information?” 

“The sexual kind.” She leans back, so collected I think she might be stamps. “He was a serial cheater, and we all know what a pervert he was. It didn’t start and end with that poor girl’s socks-and-underwear. I want to know what else there was.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Two connected cases at once. Shit. How do I guard the lines on this one? “Didn’t the two of you have some sort of agreement?” 

“He was allowed to do things within a certain bound, yes. I’ll determine what was outside of it.” 

“I suppose that’s not my job, right. I just find the facts.” Sighing, I scrawl FIND HIS PERV SHIT. “Forgive my prying, but did he have any specific proclivities?” 

“Feet. Menstrual blood. Boots.” She gives me that same cool stare; the world is burning behind her eyes. “I could hear you through the door, you know. You weren’t wrong. He has a thing for blondes.” 

“Good to know, I guess.” 

“I chose you on purpose.” 

“Sending a lamb to the wolves?” 

“Charlotte Darwin? A lamb?” She laughs. “Please. We all know what you did to Essie Miranda.” 

She doesn’t know anything about me. I keep the boiling water under my skin; I dig the ballpoint into my paper. “Why do you want me to investigate Todd Kenly?”

“Easy.” She uncrosses her legs and leans forward toward me. “I want to divorce him.” 

[totallyexhausted]

Would You Love Me Better if I Killed Someone for You...

Kazuki sighs as he walks through the door, his keys jingling against the lock as Miri pushes past excitedly. It’s late in the afternoon whish isn’t unusual for them to come home, but today- today was rough. Everything went wrong. The French toast had burned, Miri’s drop-off was late, the weather had changed from sunny to rainy despite the forecast, the store was out of almost everything needed for dinner, and Rei- well, Rei had been a dick pretty much all day.

Moody, Kazuki would say. Not unlike Rei, but that didn’t stop the 25-year-old from fighting Kazuki every step of the way. The older asked for help which he got- eventually- in a half-ass form of quiet grumbling and slow movements. Fold the laundry. Do the dishes. Vacuum. Help gather intel on their next mission. It wasn’t hard, and these were things Rei had been trying to improve over the past couple of weeks. But today- today, Rei just fought Kazuki the whole way.

Last night they’d gotten into an argument over dinner. Rei pushing his food around as Miri listed off all the exciting things she’d done in preschool that day. Playing games. Building a castle. Learning a new song. Gossiping about boys. The last one Kazuki didn’t appreciate but he let it go, assuming Anna-chan was the main culprit for “men are a mystery.”

Miri poked Rei in the ribs causing the younger man to flinch, turning towards her a few moments later, a questionable look plaster on tired features. She pointed a finger towards his plate, “You okay, Rei-Papa?”

Rei hummed before turning back towards his food, pushing a tomato around the white porcelain and resting his chin on his hand. Kazuki sighed, glancing over Rei’s features, trying to pinpoint something, anything. Truth was, Rei had been quiet all day- well, quieter than usual. He’d forgone playing his videogames halfway through the day, picking up a book that Kazuki had been reading, flipping through the pages before retreating to his room until the older had called him for dinner.

            Ever since he turned 25 a few days prior, Rei had backed off. Retreating more to isolation and distancing himself from conversations Kazuki had come to expect from the ladder over the past 3 years. He hadn’t discussed what his father had wanted, and Kazuki didn’t push him. He didn’t want to pry- but the past couple of days have been weighing heavily, if not on Rei’s shoulders, but Kazuki’s. Something had happened. Something that Kazuki couldn’t fix- that seemed to erase the progress over the past few years. And that pissed Kazuki off.

            Rei hummed again as Miri asked another question, and Kazuki bit his lip as more food was pushed around, chopsticks scraping against glass. Rei had barely touched his food. He’d barely touched anything over the past couple of days- food, drinks, video games- even jerking away from Miri’s wild hands, and Kazuki’s gentle fingers. The 28-year-old didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but over the past 3 years, Kazuki had come to know Rei well enough to know when something was wrong. And something was.

            Rei’s chopsticks faltered, and the fingers froze as he inhaled loudly before setting the wooden utensil against the plate gently. Miri reached over, asking if she could have something from Rei’s plate, and the younger man nodded slowly, his gaze still cast on the barely touched food. Kazuki exhaled loudly, “What’s your problem, huh?”

            The words left his mouth in a tense fashion Kazuki hadn’t know was there. He swallowed a few times as he closed his eyes, hoping they didn’t sound as harsh as they’d come across. He hadn’t meant to sound bitter- if anything he was more worried over the fact that Rei was mirroring his image from a few years ago than he was mad, but the words were twisted in his throat, dry against the concern he hoped plastered against his face. But that was how the argument had started. Kazuki’s question coming out harsher than intended, his concern turning sharp and accusatory. And Rei glaring towards him.

            The 25-year-old leaned forward slightly; his eyes unwavering as he met Kazuki’s gaze. He expression cold as he cleared his throat, “Right now, you’re my problem...”

            Needless to say, the argument had escalated and ended in Miri crying because her Papa’s were fighting. Kazuki had tried calming her, explaining they were just tired; and Rei had retreated to his room.

And that was the end of it. Until morning.

            Miri had insisted in filling the gaps of silence between Rei and Kazuki; her mindless chatter usually a comfort to Kazuki, but today- today it was just a reminder of the previous night. Of Rei snapping at him. Of Rei’s attitude… and the hellish idea that after Miri was dropped at preschool, Kazuki would have to spend the whole day with someone who just wanted to be left alone.

            The 28-year-old had tried, really, to leave Rei alone as it seemed the younger wasn’t in any better spirits than before. But it was laundry day, and most of the chores he had, had become easier over the past few weeks with Rei helping him out. Besides, Kazuki tried apologizing, and Rei tried accepting it, but his part of the housework was sloppy at best. And after refolding the laundry and vacuuming again, Kazuki had given up. Clearly whatever was wrong was something Rei would have to deal with on his own… the 28-year-old would have to just leave him alone until then.

But that was easier said than done… especially with a hyperactive 4-year-old.

(You can probably see where I'm going with this with Rei pushing people away because it's easier for him; his wrist getting infected from the other night with his fight; etc...) (These are just notes to a fic I'm writing so that's why it's piece-y lol)

...

“Your wrist,” Kazuki said softly, his fingers ghosting over the deep three-inch cut lining Rei’s forearm. The flesh was red and angry, enflamed and hot to the touch. Infected. The wound was infected.

            Kazuki’s mind wondered to a few nights ago when… Rei had been hurt then. Kazuki should have seen; should have looked him over… but Rei didn’t want to talk, and he was standing… so the thought of him being hurt, hadn’t really crossed the 28-year-old’s mind. Besides, if it was bad enough, Rei would have told him. He had learned from his mistake a year ago when Kazuki had taken him to the A&E before he bled to death in the shitty apartment bathroom. Blood smeared against the glass pane on the car window, Rei slumped against the door, his breathing heavy as his fingers tried gripping again at the open wound stabbed against his abdomen; and Kazuki cursed loudly as he reached over, his fingers grasping the younger’s shoulder to keep him awake…

            Rei groaned as Kazuki prodded the flesh harshly, pressing along the scabbed skin, his fingernail digging slightly under the scab, releasing bloody puss from the swollen area. He hummed softly as Rei flinched, his head lolling against the tub before smacking against the older man’s collarbone, and the 28-year-old tightened his grip over the younger’s shoulders protectively, pulling him closer so Rei was leaning against his chest.

            “Rei,” Kazuki murmured, his voice low and soft, “The wound on your wrist is infected.” You idiot.....

...

Rei coughed weakly, turning his head slightly so his forehead pressed against Kazuki’s collarbone, and the older let out a sigh of relief as the younger man shifted. Kazuki dipped the cloth in the water again, adjusting his grip, supporting more of Rei’s weight against his shoulder as he wrung the rag over the 25-year-old’s heated back slowly. Water splashing against scarred flesh, trailing down Rei’s back in sweaty lines, disappearing beneath stilled lukewarm water. Kazuki repeated the action several times, adjusting his grip each time the younger shifted before pressing the soaked material on the back of Rei’s neck.

            Kazuki swallowed slowly; his actions hesitant as he placed a hand over Rei’s bare back, rubbing his fingers against the tension knotted across his shoulder blades, and the younger man relaxed further against him. Something moved outside the door, and Kazuki glanced towards the door, a small smirk crossing his face as he saw Miri’s shadowed back pressed against the frosted glass door. She was worried, and she had every right to be. Probably upset too as Kazuki made her sit in the hallway instead of the bathroom with him and Rei as she demanded. But despite how much she wanted to help, she’d only get in the way at the moment.

            Rei groaned again, coughing roughly as he moved a hand through the water slowly until it connected with Kazuki’s bicep. His fingers gripping at the 28-year-old’s sleeve loosely, his hand shaking before trailing back down and smacking against the water. Kazuki removed the rag from his neck and dipped it in the water once more, wringing out the excess over the younger’s back again, his shoulders, his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek as he gently uncurled Rei’s grasp on him, cupping the back of his neck and positioning the 25-year-old so he was leaning against the end of the bathtub.

            Kazuki brushed some messy black strands away from Rei’s face, mopping against the sweat covering his pale face as the younger clenched his eyes further, curling in on himself, his head turning slightly.

            “Rei?” Kazuki whispered, “You with me?”

            At first, the 25-year-old didn’t respond, and Kazuki swallowed, combing Rei’s bangs away from his forehead so he could see him better. A few minutes passed, and Miri shifted outside the door, her back pressing harshly against the glass and the sound of several small objects dropping to the wooden floor, rolling away quietly. Kazuki tried again, “Rei?”

            He ran his thumb over the younger’s temple slowly, his fingers carded through thick messy tangles of black hair matted against heated flesh. Rei swallowed loudly before cracking his eyes open, his eyes searching for a second before landing on Kazuki leaning over the tub, his face a few inches from his. Kazuki smiled, “Hey. There he is.”

            Rei groaned again, making an effort to force his body up before strong hands forced him back down gently, and the younger complied. He cleared his throat, swallowing again as water washed over him slowly, and the 25-year-old flinched as something pressed against his forehead, cheek, neck… chest. He blinked slowly, focusing on Kazuki’s movements as the older wrung out another cloth, pressing against Rei’s neck and shoulders.

            Rei coughed again, confusion eating away at his features as he pushed his hand against Kazuki’s hovering over his chest. He gulped, his eyebrows drawing together as Kazuki met his gaze, his blonde hair momentarily covering his brown eyes, and the older man smiled softly, pausing as Rei’s heated fingers covered his.

            The 25-year-old glanced around sluggishly, trying to piece together what was happening. His mind was muddled and foggy… like he’d been drugged or he’d lost blood. Or something. Like something… His movements were weak and slow. And everything was hot. So fucking hot.

            Kazuki pressed the wet rag against Rei’s forehead gently, soaking the sweat rolling from his temple past flushed red set high on pale cheekbones. He untangled his other hand from Rei’s grasp and soaked another cloth, pressing firmly against the younger’s collarbone. The ladder made a small noise, and gripped tightly at Kazuki’s hand again, and the 28-year-old stopped.

            “No,” Rei breathed sharply, choking for a second as a dry cough made it’s way past his lips. His eyes fixed onto Kazuki’s as the older man held his gaze, making another attempt to move. Rei used his clasp on Kazuki to pull himself up somewhat, shoving his other hand against Kazuki’s chest harshly, preventing the ladder from moving closer to him. Kazuki faltered, wiggling his fingers, and Rei gripped tighter, his glare turning cold as he set his jaw, “No.”

            Kazuki swallowed, letting Rei clasp his fingers harder as he inched forward carefully. He exhaled lightly, a seriousness masking his features as he made sure to keep eye contact with the younger man. Rei’s features were alert- wrong, wild and fevered- but so very alert…

            “Rei,” Kazuki whispered cautiously, “Are you still with me?”

            Rei’s grip tightened, and Kazuki winced as fingernails dug into the skin on his hand, but he made no attempt to pull away. He tried again, “You’re sick. Your fever’s at 40.8, remember? I need to cool you off… Please.” Please, let me help you, you idiot…

            Kazuki held his breath, biting the inside of his cheek as Rei kept his grip, his eyes searching over the older man’s face tiredly, before his grip loosened slowly, his hand falling against the water with a loud smack. The expression on Rei’s face softened slightly as realization washed over him, and he swallowed as he flopped back, water splashing against the tiled floor as he let his head fall back against the tub.

            “Sorry, Kazu,” Rei said softly, closing his eyes against the lights hanging above him as he swallowed against the dryness in mouth. Kazuki smirked, “No worries. I was more concerned I’d have to fight you… that would be hard to explain to our daughter…”

            A small smile toyed with Rei’s lips as Kazuki’s words reached him. Our daughter. Our. They weren’t dating. Nor married. Nor even hinted at some form of romantic or physical relationship, and yet Kazuki always had the audacity to describe Miri as theirs… or ours. A stupid inclusion that Rei had grown quite fond of over the past few months… He’d never really been included before, nor had he ever gone out of his way to include others.

But Kazuki had always made an effort to get Rei’s opinion on things- not that the younger really cared either way when it came to decision making. He’d learned a long time ago; his opinion didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. He was a soldier. An asset. Nothing more and nothing less… the product of a loveless marriage and carefully selected breeding. He wasn’t a son. He wasn’t a person. No one claimed him. No one wanted him… until Kazuki wormed his way into Rei’s cold dark little world.

Truth was, at first, it’d been a stupid arrangement that the younger man had gone along with because it didn’t matter- he had planned on killing himself… or at least, getting killed in the field. At least that would have had more pride than the ladder. Thing is, Rei didn’t need a roommate, and Kazuki didn’t need a distraction. But Rei had stupidly taken a bullet for the older man, and Kazuki knew how to cook…

And Kazuki cared. For some ungodly reason, he cared. And that was weird. It made Rei uncomfortable. His emotions, his expressions; the way he made sure the younger man ate, bathed, and looked after himself. He changed things Rei hadn’t cared about. He bought furniture and games, and sat at the other end of the couch, talking, always fucking talking, about some nonsense that Rei ignored… and despite how much of himself Rei had tried to turn off; Kazuki just wouldn’t let him. Even on his bad days. Even when Rei stayed in his room or in the bathtub, curled up, his knees pressed against his chest as he fought to see through memories that haunted sleepless nights and stopped his lungs from taking in air. Kazuki was still there.

He wasn’t overbearing… well, most of the time, he wasn’t. When Rei was struggling, Kazuki would leave his door open, checking in on the other, making sure Rei knew that if he wanted to talk, he was there. But he didn’t pressure him… he didn’t pry. He didn’t ask about the scars littering his chest, back and arms; he didn’t force him to talk when Rei woke up screaming… or when he stayed up for nights on end because he couldn’t close his eyes.

He respected Rei’s boundaries, and very rarely crossed them because that’s just who Kazuki was. He was a good person who lived a horrible life, and yet, somehow, he hadn’t turned out completely fucked up the Rei was. He hadn’t turned out useless… But perhaps that’s why their arrangement remained. Kazuki needed someone to take care of, and Rei- Rei needed someone to take care of him. He wasn’t an invalid, he wasn’t weak… he just didn’t care if he lived or died. Indifference crept into his life a long time ago, and buried itself so far deep within Rei that it became a core part of who he was. Indifferent. And. So. Fucking. Useless.

...

I'm still writing.

[cadenza-damour]

The Relativity of Rain

Summary : Petra teaches Levi the relativity of rain

Word count : 400 something

Rating : G

Tags : Levi Ackerman/Petra Ral, Isabel Magnolia (mentioned), Furlan Church (mentioned), grief, comfort, carrots are funny

—

The weather immediately following expeditions has always been more or less inclement in summer. It's like the sky acknowledges in a way that the Scouts have had their fair share of losses. A rebellion against this unfair course of fate. 

Levi was strolling around the old headquarters of the Survey Corps under this rainy weather, his hooded green cloak pulled up over his head when he finally found Petra sitting on a stoned bench in the park surrounding the castle. A quiet place away from everything and everyone where she could daydream at peace.

"Petra?"

She started at the sound of her Captain's voice, not having noticed him come by.

"Captain! I almost had a heart attack."

"You better go back inside before you die of pneumonia."

A silence fell.

"I was staring at the clouds." Petra finally admitted. "I saw a weird carrot-shaped one earlier and it somehow made me laugh."

"Petra, it's raining."

"Yes, but only outside."

"Petra, we're outside. And it's raining."

"You're saying it as if it's a problem."

"You'll get sick if you stay here"

"Captain Levi."

"What?"

Petra spoke to him in a dead serious tone, sounding like a teacher who was repeating for the umpteenth time the same explanation to a challenging student.

"It's raining outside. It doesn't matter that it's raining outside, if it's sunny inside. If the weather is nice in your heart, then everything is fine."

Levi tried to figure out how the whole thing could work, weighing up pros and cons from that approach but eventually coming to the conclusion that he couldn't apprehend it rationally as he marveled at Petra's ability to see funny shapes in the cloudy sky. 

Something within him hesitated and then he noticed that it was mid-July, that despite the rain showering their corner behind Wall Rose, it was not cold. There was no wind and it was not pouring so bad after all.

That's how he realized that the reason why he was looking for Petra precisely was because it's been all cloudy in his heart lately - it's been six years already since Isabel and Furlan passed. And that he was happy to find her here, because the weather was always nice by her side, because she always lit up a funny little sun above his head even when it's raining. 

Levi stole one last glance at that gray sky up above Petra.

And finally decided to sit by her side and stay.

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Closer

On a late and rainy night, Angela gets a visit from Laurent.

Laurent belongs to the fabulous @slytherindisaster

Hope you enjoy it 💚💛

She never really did understand how people could sleep when hearing the sound of the pouring rain. It never did relax her, quite the opposite in fact. She was in a sour mood, as if the grey skies stole something from her spirit, the heavy atmosphere pressing its weight on her. A constant headache made it hard to focus during the day and at night, the sound of the rain drops hitting against the window sill or the glass kept her up. And while it was not a thunderstorm, she was still agitated, her mind unable to block out the noise.

The book she was reading did little to ease her as well.

Whispers fell from between her lips as she remained in bed, all bundled up, eyes wide and alert as Angela read to herself “As the floorboards creaked under his weight, he felt as if the ragging storm outside was actually far away, despite what his eyes were telling him. Lightning illuminated the dark corridor, a silent figure laying there, watching intently. Reaching for it dazed, he jumped when there was a sudden knock at the door.”

Letting out a small yell, Angela dropped her book as knocking was heard. Covering her mouth, she held her breath as she listened in, making sure her mind was not playing any tricks on her. And there it was again, a short knock, followed by just the sound of the pouring rain outside.

Grabbing her wand, she left the comfort of her bed, running towards the entrance door, her beating heart like war drums. Not bothering to ask who it was, the door swung open to reveal a man looking down at her “I know it’s late.” He uttered as soon as he set his eyes on her startled face.

Stepping aside, she shook her head, a warm smile forming on her lips as she invited him in “Hurry inside now, it’s cold.” Before Laurent even reached for his own wand, she already chanted away before he properly walked inside, drying up the soaked clothes, a small thank you in the form of a nod being offered by him.

As he removed the coat from his back, her eyes travelled to his face, expression softening. It was not the first time his steps led him to the King orphanage, it would probably not be the last, yet she always opened her door for him, letting him stay in order to clear his head.

“Come on.” She urged him to follow, Angela leading him to the guest bedroom “I’ll make the bed then go make you a cup of tea.”

“You don’t have to bother.” He mentioned looking at her, tired eyes telling silent stories “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, this weather keeps me up.” she smiled, her gaze searching his face “Do you want to talk about it?”

Frowning slightly, he shook his head slightly, Angela placing a hand on his arm giving it a gentle squeeze before they walked inside the room, her immediately lighting up a candle, hurrying to make the bed. Walking close to her, Laurent placed his coat over her shoulders, a pair of wide eyes turning to him as a slight flush colored her cheeks as the realization of being just in her nightgown dawned on her “I apologize, I rushed downstairs, forgot to grab a robe…”

Suppressing a chuckle, he shook his head “You don’t need to dote on me, I’m the one imposing. Now go put something on before you catch a cold.”

As he made the bed and lit up the fire, he ran a hand across his face, mind wandering, thoughts constantly spinning inside his head. Walking towards the window, he opened it, taking out a cigarette, ready to ignite it when he heard the door opening after a knock. Angela entered, draping his coat over a chair as a tray levitate behind her “Tea, drink, I only had brandy, ummm…” she searched the tray once it set on the table “potion, in case you can’t sleep. Oh…” she picked up the ashtray, placing it on the window sill.

“Have you considered opening a hotel in the future?”

Scoffing, she gave him a poignant look as he lit up his cigarette “I would rather go to Azkaban than have to convince the bank for another loan.”

“Ouch.”

“Plus, there no one would judge me for walking around in my night gown.”

Managing to crack a smile, he looked at her “Wasn’t judging, wasn’t minding it. Your home, your rules.” A smile spread across her lips, Angela nodding confidently “So, why were you up at this hour? Troubles?”

“No, it’s fine. I just can’t relax when it’s raining, started reading and before I knew it, I lost track of time.”

Nodding, Laurent remained silent as he finished his cigarette, lost somewhere inside his own head. Lingering for a full minute, Angela snapped out of it, deciding it was finally time to go to bed. Bidding him a good night, she retreated, Laurent watching her leave the room.

For the curious creature she used to be during her school years, she had changed quite a lot after Hogwarts. He could see it in her eyes, the desire to know what bothered him, to have him relate his troubles. Sometimes he did when she asked, sometimes he just verbalized some words, threw them out in the open and she would wrinkle her nose as she tried to understand everything.

But he was tired that night and perhaps a good night’s sleep would clear his mind. Or maybe being away would do the trick.

But as soon as his head hit the pillow, Laurent did not even realize when sleep stole him away from his conscious state. He woke up dazed, eyes squinting as sun light shined through the open drapes, laughter resonating in the distance as children played, enjoying the sunshine.

The smell of coffee and food brough him out of it completely as he saw another tray on the small table, breakfast waiting for him.

As he ventured outside, he found Angela running around the open field, kids giggling delighted as she caught them, tickling their sides. Leaning against a tree, he lit up a cigarette as he watched her smiling, cheeks red, hair coming undone, dress dirty from the mud on their little feet as she picked them up.

By lunch time when the staff finally managed to round up all the children in order to eat he was waiting on her to come back to the secondary wing in order to thank her for letting him stay once more before he left again.

Sitting in the hall, she smiled when she saw him “Leaving already?”

“I don’t want to impose. Thank you for allowing me to stay over once more.”

She shook her head, looking away like she always did when offered a compliment or thank you. Reaching inside a pocket, she presented him a key “Here, in case you need a place to clear your head and I’m not here.”

“Angela I can’t accept it.”

For a small person she could certainly give a look when she wanted something “I know how it is to need a safe heaven and not have it. So please.”

Looking down at her extended hand, Laurent smiled “Thank you again but I won’t accept it. I’d rather have you open the door to greet me every time.” placing his hand over hers, he closed her fist around the key as he leaned and kissed her cheek, Angela looking up at him when he pulled away from her.

“Then stay for lunch.”

“A compromise?” he asked as his brows lifted.

Smiling, she pocketed the key “No, just lunch with me.”

[bog--unicorn]

Holyfield in the late-season knotweed tangle.

Holyfield is, of course, named after Evander Holyfield… she and Evander both share that “bite” taken out of one ear. Our Holy’s ear wasn’t actually bitten though. Sheep that are going to be transported across state lines or to processing facilities need to have ear tags so that the USDA can control the spread of major health issues like scrapie (a prion disease like mad cow, but occurring in sheep and goats). The ear tag is applied with a piercing gun a lot like you see used on humans in a mall. Most farmers also include additional info on the tag that helps them manage their flock books — for instance, the year the sheep was born, perhaps what breeding line it was from, if it was a twin or triplet, etc. When I first saw Holyfield she wasn’t weaned yet, but by the time she was 8 weeks old and ready to bring back to the farm, she had managed to catch her tag on something and torn part of her ear off. Her farmer asked if I’d rather pick a different lamb, but as they say in the horse world “you can’t ride the head” and I’m comfortable around a bottle of betadine. It healed up well and now it’s just a cosmetic difference.

What first attracted me to Holy was her uncommon-in-Katahdin-sheep moorit coloring. The term “moorit” literally means “like the moors”, meaning the vast boggy heather-covered terrain in the UK where sheep have traditionally been herded for eons. We don’t call cranberry land “moors” in the States, but it’s a similar environment really… cloudy, rainy weather most of the year with iron-rich waterlogged sandy soil over a thick layer of peat. Mosses, lichens, laurels, and briers dominate the flora here along with, of course, cranberry vines; all very tough plants that thrive despite the acidic and nutrient-poor environment. As a color, “moorit” isn’t just brown but that sort of red-green blend you see on the wet bark of pines, in the muted color of fallen, decaying oak leaves, and even the almost purple color of the dormant vines. A very romantic color, if you ask me.

Holyfield has always been a stoic beast. Not just about the ear, which she never fussed about when I had to treat it, but generally. She has always moved confidently and deliberately and has never been shy about making eye contact. She has been then flock’s “scout” or “crier” from a young age — the sheep who is usually on the periphery of the group keeping watch-and-listen even while grazing. A sheep needs a steady nerve for that job, with sense enough to know when to raise an alarm and how to do so in such a way as to direct the flock where to go and not just cause panic. She’s admittedly one of my favorites.

[lionessshychai]

Chapter 1: Fly to My Room

In the heart of Seoul, I booked this beautiful condo B&B which seems like it once was a pretty traditional Korean family home, apart from the extensive collection of ceramics and paintings that make it feel more like a boutique gallery. It feels like a warm hug. The Meyongdong neighborhood boasts a spectacular view of the famous Namsan Tower and is walkable to a random hole-in-the-wall cafe I ate at last time with "world-famous Jajangmyeon."  I'm always sure to book lodging near the local best in food wherever I stay because I'm a self-proclaimed foodie and there's nothing like a good bowl of  Bibimbap on a rainy afternoon to give you the feels for this city. Seoul is the type of place that sings you a pretty song and then with the same mouth, blows cigarette smoke in your face. She's been through some shit.

  I got in pretty late due to storms in the area and my Uber driver had a food delivery right before me... I swear to god he must have because the car wreaked of garlic as I got in.  

I slept like a baby fawn in a field of dew last night. I shit you not, The bed is a king with buttery-soft cotton sheets that smell faintly of tea tree, or maybe eucalyptus. Heavenly. There's a walnut-colored rattan light fixture above the bed that emits beautiful little amber twinkles of light all over the room. Whatever, It's probably Ikea.  Or it's hand-woven. It wouldn't surprise me,  based on the gallery theme going on here, but it's mesmerizing and I stared at it til I passed out.

 I feel good here. Seoul does have something about it.  A soul of its own and just being here for the second time already feels better than the last, but I tend to over-glorify shiny new things. I'm easily impressed with the aesthetic. Maybe I'm just a sucker for romanticism and still look for art in everything despite my work ethic and forced realism. 

My abilities in the Korean language are still pretty rusty, but I get by with the basics and assistance from translating apps, for at least reading things like signs and restaurant menus in Hangul (Korean characters).   

First things first, this rainy Tuesday morning-introductions and the first team meeting with the CEO of BigTime Music Productions, Mr. Bang Si-hyuk, and his entourage.  I'm excited this new contract has provided a living translator this time! Something that, for some reason, wasn't overseen by the good people at Hyundai last trip.  They must have put too much faith in my skills. Needless to say, we spent most of our time using pocket translators back and forth.  It was a mental drain, but they provided plenty of Soju and we all laughed our asses off waiting for that robotic voice to try to convey everything from emissions to emotions.  (It isn't good at either.)

  I haven't had a chance to stock the fridge at the rental house with anything yet, and I've only had a bag of "Nongshim Banana Kick '' crackers since the flight. I'll get a bite somewhere on the way to the train.   I pull on my black Burberry trench and pop open my umbrella.  It's a slick-back ponytail kind of day in this humidity. There isn't enough Moroccan oil in the world for Springtime weather in South Korea.  Pulling the door closed behind me, the security lock beeps and the hustle and bustle of the city is much apparent.  

A friendly face greets me on the sidewalk, an elderly man in a green bucket hat and rain slicker fixing something on the front gate, whom I assume is the property manager here. 

 I timidly blurt out my first Korean words of the day.

 "joh-eun achim-ieyo", "good morning".  It sounded like I spoke through a mouthful of oatmeal.  Jesus, I'm off to a great start already. 

The man looked over at me with a slight hesitation on his face, but politely greeted me in return, introducing himself.

 "I'm Park Min-Jun, manager man" and it also sounds like he asks me if I'm the guest for the next two weeks.

 I bring out my pocket translator just in case and prepare my response. 

 "eung, nae ileum-eun Maggie"- Yes my name is Maggie, and I bow. "naega geu jalileul jal dolbolge."- I'll take good care of the place.  

He bows in return and hands me the mail key from his pocket. In his best English, he explains that I may receive packages here if I wish and to use box 433 at the end of the path. I thank him, bow, and continue down Myeongdong Street, a little sheepishly.

  You think your accent sounds so good when you practice on DuoLingo but that little shithead owl won't critique you on the important stuff like how natural or awful your accent is. He will ridicule you if you haven't opened the app for more than a day, though. I need more Korean friends besides Hana to chat with, I guess.  

 “Lazy morning mouth," I say to myself, with a sigh.  “Caffeine”, as I search Google for the nearest pit stop on my walking route to the train.

My phone dinged with an incoming text message.  It was Amy Sanchez, my manager.

Hey in Seoul! Rob wants you to make sure that you read through your contract thoroughly and make sure it’s translated well enough for you not to get thrown under the bus on any time constraints. Chloe Venza just came back from Hong Kong and the deal with Panasonic was terminated prematurely. They claimed breach of contract on her.  Something about a deadline which she knew nothing of. Be careful. -Amy

Oof.  Sorry to hear that. I have my own translator this time, right? I think I’ll be good. I’m careful. Chloe didn’t even want that deal to begin with. Go figure.

I had a feeling. Just mind your manners.  You’ve been to Seoul. You know it’s easy to get yourself dirty looks just for breathing wrong. 

It’s not as bad as you think, but yeah, I get what you mean. All good!

Good luck.

Amy gets nervous once Rob is pissed about something.  The trickle-down effect is real. I can’t blame her, but she does blow shit out of proportion all the time. 

 I dropped by the first cafe I passed, a cute walk-up window beside a nail salon, and ordered a  latte called an “Einspänner”, oddly enough. I had to Google that too. A German latte?  In Seoul? Apparently, hugely popular at this place, as suggested by the barista. "It's the favorite," she told me.  Who's favorite, I wonder. It’s actually damn delicious with vanilla cream foam on top that could have almost passed for ice cream.

I set out for the train stop to Yongsan with an earbud in one ear with some random podcast on social economics, and in the other ear, the busy town cacophony with a bouncing K-Pop song being pumped out of a very pink boutique. Pictures of various idols in all their glory beaming out from the racks outside, a girl dressed in a bandeau top, choker, and shorts with a glittery purple fringe skirt handing out flyers for what looks like a big spring sale. 

"hana gajyeoga chingu!"  Take one, friend! "It's a big sale today." 

 as she reaches out to hand me a flier and I nod to her, trying to grab the flier with both hands ( in Korean culture, it's polite to receive anything anyone gives you with both hands.) I struggle, holding my latte and reaching awkwardly toward the flier and giggling nervously, almost losing the damn latte in the process.  The shop girl holds both of her hands out in an attempt to stabilize anything I might drop and we both laugh hesitantly. 

"Gamsahabnida" thank you. We both bow and I glance over her shoulder at the rack of sparkling idol posters and photos.

  "God, is everyone flawless in the world of K-Pop?" I thought to myself. Immaculate complexions, impeccable style. If they aren't 100% Photoshopped,  this makes me think about seriously upping my skincare routine. Now, I know a handful of K-pop songs just because Hana usually has them playing in the background at her place most of the time, but I couldn't name any of these beautiful faces staring back at me right now. There’s one in particular who has purple hair.  He’s dressed in a white blazer, wearing small silver hoop earrings and a captivatingly gorgeous smile through full, glossy lips.  Oh, is he wearing contacts too? Blue or...purple? Wow. The dude legit seemed to stare into my fiber of being. Those eyes are absolutely killer. He's stunning.

 "Damn," I mutter under my breath. The skin on my arms prickled.  

My new shop bestie turned around to see what the hell I was ogling at and she went to pick up a few of the photocards for me to look at.  I laugh at myself, snapping out of my daze and it takes everything I have not to reach with both hands again. Instead, I clasp them together in a prayer-like plea.  

"No, thank you. I...I appreciate it, though '' aniyo gwaenchanhseubnida... She bows, and I bow.

  Flustered and per-usual clumsy,  I lose my pretty princess-in-heels footing a little but glance around and straighten up to find my bearings again and make for the train stop about 100 yards away. I felt the shop girl watching me for a few dozen yards. She's probably thinking I must have spiked my morning coffee.

As I find my seat on the train, my phone rings.  It's my translator, Ming-Hee. 

 "joh-eun achim-ieyo, Good morning, and welcome to Seoul, Maggie!  We look forward to your arrival.  The door code is 15338.  The East entrance with the big gold 'B' on the door. Check in with reception and I'll meet you on the 17th floor." 

 I quickly punch the code into my phone's keypad and return the greeting in first Korean, then English.

  "I'm on the train and will see you in about 20 minutes, Ming.  Thank you for the code!"  I politely replied.

"Yes, looking forward to your arrival," Ming replies flatly.  

She seems friendly...

 Settling in for the short ride, I thought of the K-Pop shop and something  Hana once said to me: "You gotta go find your 'bias' eventually." Apparently, 'Bias' is K-pop speak for your ultimate crush.  Girl’s crazy.  She always lectures me about how I put my work before everything else, even love... especially love. I've worked too hard for what's going on in my career to have some hype boy screw it up now.  I always tell Hana to lay off the K-Dramas. That stuff will give you high expectations and deep disappointment.  Well, Hana will be pleased to know that on my first day back in Seoul, I coincidentally picked my first K-pop "bias", at least.   I have no idea what his name is or what group he's in,  but he's got lilac purple hair and almost made me lose my Einspänner all over Meyongdong Street.

There are a few things that impress me about cityscapes, being how cold and lifeless they can appear to be, but there's an interesting non-linear quality to the skyline of Seoul. It's not uniform by any means.  Seoul appears mountainous from a distance. Most of the city is tucked and hugged by hills.  As the morning sun illuminates the landscape, a layer of fog envelopes a bridge stretching across the Han River, and flocks of white birds float and dive through the vapor.  I reach my destination and it's a classic glass-paned cubed skyscraper with "BigTime" in big steel letters across the face of it. I make my way to the entrance with a gold 'B' as Ming-Hee instructed me and pull out my phone to punch in the door code. Success.

The foyer is wide open and sleek, well-lit, and modernly beautiful with lots of metal and wood accents, bubble chandeliers, and polished black marble floors. Walking toward the receiving desk, I spot two smartly dressed women chatting with coffee mugs in neatly manicured hands and the latest copy of Soompi magazine open to a page of a glossy spread of celebrity paparazzi photos. 

It looked to me as if they were fully engrossed in tea-spillage as they both looked up from the page to notice me, looking a bit annoyed.  I greeted them both in Korean, bowed, and proceeded in English to explain who I was and that I had an appointment with their marketing team. I placed my company Focus company badge on the marble surface of the countertop and smiled, hoping everything I said got across clearly. One woman in an indigo suit with long, sleek hair and sparkling blue crystal dangle earrings stepped in with confidence and appeared to understand what I was requesting. She smiled politely with a bow and took my I.D. to make a copy.

"Good morning, Miss Marsden, you're expected by Mr. Bang and his team on the 19th floor. Allow me to escort you. My name is Mina."  

 I bow again and reply gratefully, following her graceful heel clack to the elevators.  

In the elevator, there's some lofi jazz music playing softly and it feels like it's probably a chill rendition of a pop song.  It's like those ambient YouTube videos with the cute racoon in an orange hoodie and headphones that I usually put on in the background while I'm reading or studying.  

Mina turns to me and gives my outfit a lookover. Today, I put on a sleek, but not tight black pencil skirt, a soft cream Brochu cashmere sweater, and Versace slingback pumps complete with my favorite black Burberry trench, pearl and gold Elsa Peretti dangle earrings, and a slicked-back ponytail. Not bad, if I say so. If a Korean woman approves, I win today.  They don't fuck around with fashion in Seoul.

"Have you been having a good experience in Korea so far?" she asks. Typical elevator small-talk.

  "It's been nice, so far. I just arrived last night and I'm excited to get to work on this project." I reply, somewhat formally.  Mina looks down at her feet, seemingly disappointed by my answer, and nods, turning a gold bracelet on her wrist that has a few charms on it.

 "Your first time in Seoul?" She looks at me with a smile again and shifts her weight to the opposite foot.

 "No, it's only my second time here, but it's good to be back again.  Seoul is a fascinating city." Mina nods again with arched eyebrows and a small laugh. 

"It is! I hope you enjoy your time here." As the elevator dings and opens to the 19th floor, Mina gestures for the opening and I step out. 

 I exit and Mina waves goodbye as the doors close.  I look left and right and see a woman standing near a water feature. She has short hair and gold-framed glasses dressed in a neat, black pantsuit holding a tablet in one hand and has a furrow in her brow.

 "Miss Marsden, I assume?  I'm Ming-Hee and I'll be your assistant translator, also helping you with etiquette and such things while you're with us.  I hope I can be helpful, and if you have any questions, please ask."  

Oh, my handler, I think to myself jokingly.  She seems tense and ready to get the show on the road.

Ming-hee smiles slightly and glances at the clock face over the elevator door.

 I didn't think I was running late. I wasn't supposed to be there for another ten minutes.

Ming-Hee gives the air of no-bullshit and all business sprinkled with some courtesy.

 I bow back and reply, "Thanks very much, may I call you Ming for short? 

"You may call me Ming or May, my Christian name.  Both are fine."  She replies shortly.

I nod to confirm.

 Ming started down the hallway with a gesture to follow and picked up the pace as soon as I took a step.  Trailing Ming hurriedly, I notice my phone is vibrating inside my shoulder bag and take it out to see who's calling.  It's Hana.

"Oh, shit." I think to myself.  I forgot she wanted me to call once I landed in Seoul, just to check in that I landed safely, but I was so exhausted from the flight last night that I spaced out calling altogether.

Ming gives me a sideways glance, almost a warning that now isn't the best time to answer the call, so I quickly hit the ignore button and text a quick "I'm good, call you in about an hour... maybe." Send.

I think I must be vibing off of Ming's nervous energy and start to feel a little self-conscious and a bit sub-par.  What am I bringing to the table if not my charms and brainpower? I don't speak Korean, I'm still fairly fresh out of college and I just woke up in Seoul this morning, jet lag still hanging on tight. I suddenly think this may not be as chill as my last trip here dealing with the good people of Hyundai. I'm really letting this woman wreck my ego right now and I feel my heart pounding and breaths becoming quick.  Since middle school, I've had panic attacks and recently became friends with Zanny.  It's just been months since my last encounter with the anxiety demon. Why now?? 

Ming turns a corner and we're now standing in front of a couple of large double doors with burnished gold handles. I stop and think about the grounding exercises that my therapist taught me.  

Find five things around you to focus on. One thing you can see, something you can smell, one blue thing, one red thing, and something you can touch with your fingertips.

I look around quickly. I see various plants in gold urns, I can smell freshly brewed coffee, there's a long-tailed bluebird in an oil painting, and Ming's patent leather Dior bag is red. Finally, I touch the cashmere fringe on my sweater and roll it between my fingers. I take a deep breath and start to feel a little calmer. Breathe.

[daughter-of-mamuna]

I just got a nice trick from, supposedly, Hermes.

As background:

I do kinda joke around when trains are late or go missing, like "oh for Hermes sake, really? Can we just flip the coin and if it lands on tails get it going?". I do know that he is a serious god, but with patronage over gambling and trickery I did find that these sort of casual jokes are a thing that work.

(I do tend to think that the project on world-building is an offering to him in a way.)

Today I went to work by riding a bike. It was rainy and moody so I put on my reflective vest to stay safe. And because of the weather, I did start my journey earlier than I did before, because I dont want tk get winded up just before my shift. Makes sense right?

The thing is, a rubber band that was supposed to stay in place on the back got worked up into the gears. So I stopped the bike, flipped it over and started to fix it. Few minutes later and some rubber band out, a jogger comes along, a nice lady tries to help me out but she can't. Then another biker stops and he is able to help us out. I thank these two, and we all go our separate ways.

I look at the clock, it took like ten to fifteen minutes and the time is almost exactly 9 am which would be the normal time I would leave the house. So again, I look at the pavement and go "Yeah, thanks for the trickery, Hermes. You simply stopped me, so I would start at the time I did before. I do believe you had a reason for it, so I hope the journey is safe now.".

I was able to get ahead on the ride (it took me less than it did before), despite the rain it was a very pleasureful experience for which I do thank him.