#the supervisor told me they were concerned i was going to faint

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

incredible way to start a new year: in literal physical agony

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Good Team | B.W.

Pairing: Bill Weasley x fem!reader

summary: Right after you graduate from Hogwarts you manage to get a job as a curse breaker at Gringotts. You surprise your dear friend, Bill, as the two of you get an assignment together, to find precious manuscripts, in a place believed to be only a legend. word count: 7696

warnings: language, cigarettes (Bill is a smoker), briefly nudity (a shower), food and drinking, alcohol, a bit of violence, an injury

a/n: It’s finally here! I’ve been working on this one for so long, seriously, but it was a lot of fun. It’s my first Bill fic and it is pretty long so I’m a bit anxious, so if you liked it, please do leave some feedback, it means the world to me!

tags: @izzyyy-1�� ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @thisismynerdyself​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ ; @lumos-barnes​ ; @hufflepuffalice​ ; @slytherclawbitch​ ; @famdomhideout​ ; @mollenniumfalcon​ ; @accioweaslcy​​

 You drew the string on your trusted backpack and patted it gently.

You looked around the room one last time - mostly to calm yourself down rather than to actually check whether you had forgotten anything - if you had, you wouldn’t have noticed it anyway.

You picked the backpack up with ease, even though its contents would allow you to survive in the wilderness for weeks. Thanks to your fresh, new job, you had obtained a permit to charm it with the Undetectable Extension Charm.

You threw on your dragonhide jacket, then glanced at your watch while tying the shoelaces of your boots – 10 minutes till you were supposed to be at Gringotts to pick up your Portkey. Just enough time.

The day for William Weasley started ordinarily. He was supposed to be back at work at 9 A.M., after having a few days off thanks to an assignment well completed, to receive a new one.

He also knew someone new, from England, was going to assist him on this one. It wasn’t uncommon for him to work with others, curse-breaking was a highly dangerous, often tricky profession, after all, so he didn’t put much thought into it. Maybe apart from hoping they wouldn’t make his job more difficult for him, which was fair.

He had woken up in the small flat he was renting in the city. Having grown up on the outskirts of a small village in Devon, living in a big city was an entirely new thing to him – with all it had to offer. He quite enjoyed that, so even though he was out on the job rather often, he opted to rent a flat in the city and commute to work, outside of it, by apparition.

The flat was pretty shabby, but he didn’t need much. The bed in his small bedroom was situated in just the right spot in relation to the window, that most of the year the sunrays hit him in the face, waking him up, at just the right time – like today.

He got up and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to pull on after a quick shower. Then he had a mug of coffee with a quick breakfast. The grounds at the bottom of the mug stubbornly got into his mouth a few times, but he didn’t care really – he just spit them out and took another sip, glancing at the clock while the news reporter on the Muggle radio spoke in the background.

Bill could understand a few words here and there at this point – the man presented the weather forecast, as Bill was finishing his coffee and cleaning up after himself.

A quick change of clothes and a teeth brushing later, he was glancing at himself in the broken mirror of the tiny entry hallway. He seized a hair tie off a dresser and tied the upper half of his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail, then apparated to the headquarters of the Egyptian Gringotts branch.

Standing by the Portkey with less than a minute to go you felt slight nerves in your stomach. You couldn’t know if this was the excitement of your new job and finally getting to see and surprise Bill, or just the anticipation of the unpleasant feeling of travel you were about to experience.

You had no time to dwell on it. “Miss Y/L/N,” the goblin called out your name to signal you, and you grabbed the broken clock, then a few seconds of your insides turning later, you were standing in some kind of hall.

“Miss Y/L/N, right this way, please,” before you could have a look around, another goblin spoke from behind your back now, evidently not wanting to waste any time.

You were brought to an office and told to wait for your new supervisor to fill you in. You had a feeling this would take long, and you were right.

The office decor was quite unlikely for goblins, there was no grandeur – on the contrary, it looked rather mundane, and very beige. You got to study the appearances of Mr Wickedgher – the goblin you were waiting for – and his predecessors a few decades back. Behind the small window covered by aluminium blinds, you saw ordinary buildings on the other side of the street.

After a while, you started bouncing your knee up and down, while admiring Wickedgher’s quill arrangement – it was very neat. There were a few moments where you heard voices in the corridor outside the door, but they passed by.

Finally, the fourth time it happened, after a voice unmistakably belonging to a goblin, you heard a very familiar, deep and warm wizard’s voice. You straightened up in your chair a bit, (as if it mattered,) then got up when the door opened.

Bill was shocked to see you, just as you expected. You put your warm greetings off until you were done with this meeting. You couldn’t tell if Wickedgher picked up on the fact that you and Bill knew each other – and if he did, he didn’t really care.

You sat on the edge of your seat when he spoke – you had only received a brief description of your assignment in England and it seemed as if Bill knew nothing. Even though they were stationed in Egypt, the goblins were sending you into the middle of Europe upon learning some new facts concerning a legend previously believed to be made up. The task, although very challenging, seemed exciting.

“We were able to confirm one location you can start with, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it from there. We have prepared you a Portkey that will depart tomorrow at 7 A.M. precisely. Any further questions?” your boss asked calmly, glancing at a drawer in his desk very briefly.

You thought intensely – this was your first job, nothing came to mind now, but was there anything else you could ask about? Anything you should ask about?

You put your faith in Bill. He glanced at you after a second, to check if you were going to say anything, then replied, “We’re good, Wickedgher. Anything else today?” “I suppose you could use the time to show our new recruit our office, but nothing apart from that. Just make sure you’re on time tomorrow.” “Will do,” Bill said and you nodded, then you grabbed your backpack lying at the foot of your chair and the two of you left the office.

Bill had his back turned to you. A cheeky, slightly shy smile made its way onto your face. He turned around with arms crossed on his chest and an eyebrow raised, suppressing a smile. “Got something to say to me?”

You grinned at him, saying “surprise?”, and you saw him break, so you reached up to embrace him. He gave you a tight, Bill, bear hug.

“Why haven’t you told me, you rascal?” he chuckled, still holding you a couple of seconds longer. “I wanted to surprise you..! I applied right after I got my N.E.W.T. results and they reached back two weeks after. When they told me I was going to Egypt I knew I had to keep it a secret, though I didn’t know they were gonna give us a mission together until three days ago,” you explained, still beaming at him. When you decided to become a curse-breaker during your fifth year at Hogwarts, working alongside Bill once again seemed like a dream. No matter how helpful the rest of your friends have been over the years, you didn’t feel as good with any of them by your side, during your curse-breaking feats, as you did with Bill.

“That would be because I’ve just finished working on one nasty tomb down south then,” he told you, his facial expression saying he was just recalling that particularly difficult task he clearly just wanted to forget about.

Bill showed you around the few spaces to your disposition during work and you took some time to go over all the evidence you had been provided with, and prepare yourself for the assignment. Then the two of you decided to grab lunch and coffee together, to catch up.

“So where are you staying? Renting anything?” Bill conversed, lighting a cigarette, as the two of you sat at an outside table of a small café. “No, not yet. They still haven’t told me if I’m gonna be stationed here, or for how long. And as for today - I wasn’t really expecting to have to stay the night here just yet. I thought we were leaving right away,” you admitted, you still haven’t figured out where you’d be sleeping that night. “Oh- then, you can crash at mine. It’s not much, but it would be hard to find anything for you on such short notice…” Bill offered, concerned.

You felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. But then you supposed crashing on the floor of his flat was nothing in comparison to what you were probably gonna go through very soon.

“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that,” you smiled at him kindly.

You followed behind him on the narrow staircase of the old apartment building, after a day full of walking around the city. On the fourth floor, Bill walked up to one of the doors, fumbling in the pocket of his jeans for the keys. Standing by his side, you had an odd mixture of feelings.

At 18, most of your friends still lived with their families. It was a part of stepping into adulthood, but nonetheless, it felt strange to think that you were about to walk into a friend of yours’ own flat.

Upon entering the tiny space, you saw Bill everywhere. It did look like a 20-year-old’s place. There was a faint smell of cigarettes present and it was quite tidy, but not Molly-like immaculate. Just like Bill – the most laid-back Head Boy Hogwarts has ever had.

Going from the tiny entry hall there was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a room serving as a living room and a bedroom, with a foldable couch.

“I was speechless too when I first saw it,” he joked, making you chuckle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N! You thirsty, want something to drink, water..?” He walked over to the kitchen and visually searched it. “Nah, I’m good for now, thank you,” you replied, walking over to the couch after setting down your bag. “…Booze..?” he continued, in a tone pretending to be ashamed of the question, a single hand holding a bottle poking out of the archway. “Sure, Weasley, let’s get hammered the night before a job. 7 AM, remember?”

“Eh, suit yourself,” he said, stretching his back while he walked over to the window. The sun was setting, the room was illuminated by its pinkish-orange rays. He opened the window, reaching one of his hands into his back pocket for a smoke.

You walked up next to him and leaned on the windowsill.

It was a beautiful evening. The warm air was blowing in your face, the sun setting low and you lost yourself, enjoying that moment. You felt an immense sense of freedom, like you could do just about anything at that point. Nothing was stopping you, all worries and responsibilities forgotten. All you felt was the open world in front of you, and Bill next to you. You were happy.

“We should probably get an early night. A good rest before leaving for Merlin knows how long won’t hurt,” Bill reasoned, breaking the silence, as the smoke from his last drag was leaving his lips. The sun was almost fully set now, the inside was getting dark. He stubbed the cigarette out on the outside of the wall, then tossed it into an old jar, already half-full with others.

“Right, yeah…” you nodded, pulled out of your daydream. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?” he asked.

You felt a bit odd using his shower, though just like any shower outside of home.

After turning the water on you allowed yourself to relax a bit. You took a look around the kind of cosmetics he used and it felt like learning some deep secrets.

You lathered your body and tried not to think about the less pleasant part of your job, namely, when would the next time you get to take a proper shower be, after this one.

A double knock on the door startled you. “Would you like tea?” William asked from behind the door. “Uhm… yes..?” you replied, subconsciously covering yourself. Even though there were a closed-door and a wall between you, it felt strange to speak to him while you were naked. After that, he was gone again, and you quickly finished your shower.

When you walked out, the couch was unfolded and the bed was made. On the floor, some distance from it, laid a make-shift bed out of blankets.

Bill was in the kitchen, sitting by the small table, looking out the window with a steaming mug in his hands. Another one was waiting for you on the other side of the table.

He looked up at you as you walked into the room, then sat down opposite him. “Thank you,” you said, sliding the mug closer to yourself. “I like having one before sleep,” he confessed, referring to the tea.

When Bill was taking a shower you had a look into your backpack, preparing for the morning, then looked out the window some more to pass time.

He walked out in a pair of boxers and a loose, weird sisters t-shirt. You wondered if that was how he usually slept or if he put the shirt on because of you.

A bit hesitantly, you walked over to the bedding on the floor, ready to tuck in for the night, but he stopped you.

“You didn’t think that when I offered you a place to crash, I’d make you the one sleeping on the floor,” he pretty much stated. “Noo,” you replied sheepishly, both of you knowing well that you did.

You walked over to your spots and laid down in silence, then you could hear the rustle of Bill’s bedding as he tried to get comfortable.

“Thank you, Bill,” you said, quietly. “Not a problem,” he replied, and you rolled onto your side to sleep.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, sounding as if he were falling asleep already. “Good night.”

When you woke up it was already bright outside. You rolled onto your other side and saw that Bill was still asleep.

He was sleeping without covers, curled up in a ball. His long hair was messy and his face half-buried in the pillow. You let yourself look at him for a moment with a small smile on your face.

Glancing at the clock, it was still early. You closed your eyes back, to wait until he woke up. When you opened them again, you could smell the breakfast being cooked.

Bill was trying to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t have to be up earlier than necessary. As soon as you realised what was going on, you felt giddy. You stretched in bed, then got up. When Bill heard the commotion, he poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Morning,” you greeted with a smile upon seeing him, making your way to where he was. “Good morning, colleague,” he replied, then got back to making food.

He appeared to have washed up and dressed already, his hair half-tied up into a bun. You sat by the table, wincing after hearing the term. “Colleague?” you asked, not amused by that banter. He chuckled with his back turned to you, but didn’t reply. “Tea, coffee?” he asked sunnily instead. “Coffee, please.”

He poured some into a mug, then placed the ready food on a plate and carried all that to you at the table.

“Thank you, Molly,” you couldn’t help yourself.

Bill snatched a kitchen rag off the counter and with an angry expression, placed his hands on his hips. The resemblance was uncanny and you found that funnier than you probably should’ve.

With a smirk, he let go of the act after you giggled and joined you at the table with his own plate and mug.

“How did you sleep?” he asked. “Pretty good, thank you. It didn’t take me too long to fall asleep in the evening. And I actually woke up before you did, but fell back asleep.” “Oh, wow.” “Yeah, how was your sleep on the floor? You seemed to be pretty comfortable,” you giggled to yourself, recalling the image. Bill cleared his throat, “I am a man of many talents, and sleeping anywhere is one of them.” “Okay, then…” you suppressed another chuckle.

“How d’you feel before your first job?” “Excited, I guess?” you answered truthfully. “I think I’ll do okay. You always said I’d be a good curse-breaker…” “And I stand by that.” “How did you feel right before your first job? What was it, some castle ruin in Wales..?”

“Mhmm, yeah…” he mumbled, chewing on his food. “I remember not being able to get a good rest because Fred and George stayed up and had a little emergency. They mixed up the powder of a few different types of fireworks and almost blew the whole house up. Excited to go to Hogwarts, they were. Charlie and I had to help them fix it without waking mum up so she wouldn’t find out,” he grunted. “So you’re already one up on me.”

Bill extended his hand to you, to help you up after you’ve fallen out of the Portkey.

“Ahh, I thought I was getting the hang of it, I landed in Egypt pretty gracefully,” you grunted while getting up, brushing gravel off of your butt. “Practice makes perfect, love,” Bill commented, already scanning your surroundings.

You found yourself on a dirt road, and though the opening for the path was pretty wide, there were miles of woods surrounding you. You had a rough idea where in central Europe you were situated, in a valley between mountains. You didn’t expect to find what you were you were looking for so easily, however, so all maps you could need were securely in your backpack.

The weather was pleasant, much cooler than Egypt for sure, but it was still the middle of summer. You tapped the watch on your wrist with your wand to change it to local time.

“6:06 AM – look, we went back in time…” you joked stupidly and Bill looked at you with a half-smile.

“We should move. From this spot, it shouldn’t take us too long to find some clues mentioned in those notes.”

Your goal was to find a tower, where over 500 years ago, a wizard named Halllegend Hugshot supposedly lived and carried out his research and experiments. The fruit of said research was the true purpose of your mission.

The only real problem was that apart from a few lucky apprentices, nobody has ever seen the tower. Halllagend was believed to have disappeared without a trace somewhere off the coast of the Black Sea, and the folk from a nearby dwelling, long abandoned and in ruin, said the area was always empty, uninhabited. And till that day it was believed to be only a legend, magical historians saying that Hallagend never set foot in that part of the world.

You went on quite the hike through the woods, the only thing to guide you were vague notes and a few inaccurate maps from the middle ages. Dawand Davisshot, for example, would find his way to his mentor’s residence by cutting through a cave that has collapsed centuries ago.

You and Bill had your lunch on the way, wanting to make as much progress as you could before setting up camp. Hours were passing, you’ve made your way up a smaller mountain and the only thing keeping you from believing you were completely lost – were occasional sightings of things like peculiar rocks or old trees that may have been the landmarks mentioned by the apprentices.

“You think when we get there, what’s next?” you questioned Bill a bit out of breath, to relieve boredom, well into the afternoon. “Hmm?” Bill muttered, pulled out of his thoughts. “We find the tower, we high five, we get inside and then what? See a desk in the middle of the room, and on it, a pile of parchment rolls waiting for us to take them? What do you think the place is going to look like?” “Guess I haven’t thought about that in much detail. Could be anything... But I doubt a regular building would’ve remained uncharted for that long,” he pointed out. “I suppose,” you agreed. “I’m just hoping for no dragons inside. I’ve had my share of dragons…” you mumbled, recalling your venture to the portrait vault and mostly, the time you joined Bill on his job at a dragon sanctuary.

You’ve noticed that he stopped and hesitated to go further, looking around and down at the ground.

You dug your foot around a bit. The ground was covered with dense thickets, it was easy to blend in with the rest while walking. Underneath, however, was not soil, but solid rock.

“Good one, Weasley,” you praised, having a closer look, and he didn’t reply. The mineral was like nothing you’ve seen before. You didn’t reckon it was Muggle.

When a single ray of sunshine got through the leaves above, when the clouds moved with the wind, shining on it, it almost glowed.

“The place looks like what Humpty Wanderer or whatever his name was described…” Bill observed, suspiciously. “Where’s the tower, though,” he didn’t hide his mild annoyance.

It was true, the opening in the trees stuck out in the middle of the woods, and all that rock seemed justly out of place.

With the lack of a better idea, you took your wand out and raised it. “You think a simple spell will break his defences?” Bill quipped defiantly.

Ignoring him, you opted to start with the simplest one – you cast Revelio nonverbally and the mineral started to glow underneath the cover. You could see now that it covered all of the circular area of the opening in the trees.

You looked at Bill with the smuggest smile. “Shove it,” he retorted in a friendly manner, then flicked his wand to get rid of the thicket. The general glow subdued and shapes started to reveal themselves. Shapes you recognised to be runes.

“HA!” you laughed “Don’t take ancient runes for your newts, it’s good for nothing, d’you know how boring it is?” you mocked the voice of Bill from a bit over two years ago, when you were finishing your fifth year at Hogwarts, about to start your sixth year, and he – graduate.

“Yeah, I take it back, alright… I’d be fucked without you,” he muttered, studying the shapes without understanding. Instinctively, you’d counter that. But instead, you smiled idiotically to yourself at those words, reading a bit too much into them.

Bill looked up at you expectantly and you blushed a bit. “So… would you..?” he prompted, bringing you back to reality. “Ah..! Yeah, yeah, of course…” you muttered, then went on to translate the message.

“It says the passage can be opened on the night of the new moon… the new moon..?” you looked at him desperately. Waiting around for the right phase of the moon didn’t sound very pleasant to you. “No, no, that’s in a few days. What is it today, the 22nd ?” “Yeah.” “Then that’s three days from now,” he said, with focus written on his face.

It made you feel a bit guilty, as if by translating the message you were the one making you two sit around and do nothing in the middle of nowhere.

You set up camp in a pleasant spot not far. Being one to fear an encounter with wild animals after dark, you made sure to set up magical barriers as well.

The tents Gringotts provided its curse-breakers weren’t the most luxurious, the goblins had better things to spend their gold on. Your tent consisted of two rooms – one, middle-sized, with a bunk bed, a table that could fit four people and a small, very basic kitchenette. Off to the side was a bathroom.

“Shotgun the top bunk,” you announced after Bill finished setting up the tent and the two of you walked in. He tutted and swore.

That evening you prepared supper for the two of you and as a peace offering after snatching the superior bunk, you also made some tea.

“Bill..!” you called out to him when you were done. He had been hanging around before, then disappeared. “Out here!” he answered, by the sound, from somewhere near the tent entrance.

Upon stepping outside, you saw two foldable chairs and a table, and Bill standing next to them, looking unsure.

“Ah, making a house feel like home,” you commented and Bill winked in reply.

You sat outside as it was getting dark. Your moods were mixed after that eventful day. You were exhausted after the whole day of walking and you weren’t exactly happy with what you discovered. You couldn’t know what would happen on the night of the new moon. All left to do now was wait around for three days and it could still be for nothing.

But you supposed it could still have been worse.

And so both of you weary, you got ready for bed and clambered into your bunks. You turned off the light and tried to get comfortable in the cold camp-bed.

“Night, Y/N,” said Bill, yawning, bringing you a bit of comfort. “Good night, Bill.”

And so the first day ended.

When you woke up the next day, your whole body ached. Bill was already up, it was past 11 AM. After making a teasing remark about how well you slept, he disappeared somewhere, while you groggily ate ‘breakfast’ and got ready for the day.

He was still absent when you finished, so unsure what to do with your time, you grabbed a book you took the liberty of packing into your backpack. However, after you positioned one of the chairs in the shade underneath a tree, you managed to read half a chapter before you saw him walking back towards the tent.

You were curious as to what he was doing but didn’t want to appear nosy. Glancing up from your book with a small smile, you showed you had acknowledged his presence, and hoped he’d start talking first.

He smiled back and walked past you, inside. You fought a battle with your curiosity, your fingers almost ready to close the book.

But you reopened it fully in haste and pretended to be immersed in it, when he came back out a minute later, after having refilled his water bottle.

He placed the second chair next to you and sat down with a heavy sigh. Agonizingly slow, he opened the bottle and quenched his thirst.

“What’re you reading?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

You tried not to show your mild disappointment and raised up the book to show him the cover and let him see for himself.

“Mhmm… I’ve heard about it. I read her last book and wondered if this one was any good.” “I’ve barely read a few chapters but so far it’s alright,” you pondered.

Bill hummed in response. He leaned back in his chair and looked up into the bright sky, closing one eye due to the sun poking through the leaves.

“I took a walk and had a look around the area,” he started. You hummed this time. It was exactly what you were waiting for. “Yesterday not enough for you?” you asked. “Why, muscles achy?” he teased you, nudging your leg with his. He was fit, you had to give it to him. Ignoring your groan, he continued – “I found a nice spot by the cliffside. Maybe we could go there tonight.” “Why do you wanna hang around a cliff edge during the night?” “I thought it would be good for stargazing if the sky’s clear,” he explained, making you suddenly feel a few degrees hotter at the thought. “If we’re to camp here, might as well do something worthwhile in the meantime,” he reasoned.

“Wow…” you exclaimed, after arriving at your destination as the sun was setting.

This spot showed a clear view of the valley and the stream running through it. You could see all the surrounding mountains and the different various layers of flora at different heights.

“Told you,” Bill said in an undertone.

The cliffside itself didn’t look as dangerous as you had imagined. The spot was actually quite cosy, you felt sheltered. You put a thick blanket over a large log to sit on it.

The two of you admired the view almost wordlessly until the sun was fully set.

The starry sky prompted a bit of nostalgia in both of you. You reminisced your years at Hogwarts, talking of your shared adventures and friends. Of how you visited the Burrow for the first time and almost sabotaged your trip, wanting to prepare a gift for the Weasleys. Or how indecisive Bill had been with his career choice in his OWL year.

A cloudless sky during the night caused a chill in the air. The two of you had brought blankets but you still subconsciously sat a bit closer to Bill and leaned into his side, as he leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky.

“Good thing I went with curse-breaker in the end,” he stated. “Yeah… and here we are,” you chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said. Bill sounded different that night. He spoke in a tone you’ve never heard before. It was simultaneously deeper and softer, reaching into your very soul. And without thinking, you somehow spoke differently, too. Your voice was sweet and tender.

“We just make a good team,” you claimed with a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed.

There was a bit of a pause after that, after which he added – “…and I’d have bored my ass off otherwise,” making you laugh. “This camping trip’s not so bad after all…”

“Aaah, ah..! I almost forgot!” he began, straightening up abruptly. “I packed this…” he muttered, reaching into his own bag to retrieve a thermos with two mugs, one for each of you. He flicked his wand and the mugs filled themselves in the air, then floated into your hands.

And so the custom was followed. You went back into the tent before too long, and when Bill wished you a good night that time, it felt somehow better, spreading warmth through your body.

And so, the second day ended.

You felt a gentle stroke on your shoulder, that had nothing to do with what you were dreaming of. In an instant, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of.

“Y/N…” Bill said quietly, standing next to the bed as you laid on your side with your back turned to him, and woke you up completely.

He retreated his hand, you took a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes, and stretched. When you turned, you saw him leaning his forearms on the railing. “I made breakfast and got tired of waiting,” he admitted, smiling a bit.

Indeed, you could smell food and coffee waiting for you at the table. The air was considerably chillier than the two previous days. When you got up and pulled a hoodie over your head, Bill opened the door a little to let a bit of natural light inside.

You sat at the table together, not saying anything, and for a moment you forgot why you were there in the first place. You forgot how inconvenient the delay seemed at first. You couldn’t place the feeling, but you were really happy about spending that time with Bill.

There he was, with all his cool aura – his hair half-tied up at the back per usual, slight stubble on his face, wearing a loose, grey t-shirt, fitted jeans and boots. And you got to see him with his resting face on, then furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he wondered whether to put raspberry or strawberry jam on his toast, while he sipped on his morning coffee. And nobody, and nothing else around.

He looked up suddenly, noticing you haven’t touched anything yet and pulling you back to reality, his blue eyes pierced into you. You dropped your gaze instantly and he did the same, you felt the heat reach your cheeks right away.

He cleared his throat quietly, possibly making the situation more awkward. “The weather got worse,” he began, having made his decision concerning the jam. “Yeah, it’s chilly, isn’t it?” you chuckled, hugging the hoodie tighter around yourself. Bill turned to you with a smile and you noticed once again, that he was wearing a t-shirt. “Right, of course…” you recalled all the times at Hogwarts when you’d wrap yourself in jackets and scarves, while he walked around in barely a thin long-sleeve.

You spend the rest of the morning each doing your own thing. It started raining in the early afternoon, providing you with the background noise of pitter-patter, the droplets hitting the tent’s surface.

Bill suddenly remembered he had packed his set of wizards’ chess, which kept you entertained for about a couple of hours.

“It is still gorgeous outside, though,” Bill pointed out, pulling the fabric covering the entrance back a bit to take a look.

He walked over to his bag with a purpose, grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head. “Care to join me..?” he asked. “In what?” you questioned in reply, confused as to what he had in mind. “Getting a bit of fresh air,” he answered, matter-of-factly. You stared at him with an expression suggesting the idea wasn’t very appealing, which only seemed to make him smile wider.

He snatched his jacket and throwing it at you, said – “Come on..!” with a grin, then pulled the hood over his head and walked outside.

Fully certain you had gone insane, you put on his jacket and joined him. He looked completely unbothered, content just standing there. Having cast the umbrella charm, you quickly skipped over to cover him too.

Bill dried a part of a boulder for you to sit on. “See? Pretty nice,” he noted and you scoffed in response. But his shit-eating grin meant you couldn’t keep a straight face.

It wasn’t bad, despite the rain it was quite sunny. You had Bill’s jacket on, keeping you warm from the wind, surrounding you in his scent, and his mood was contagious.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans. “You wanted to go out just so you could have a smoke, didn’t you?” you quipped. “Not just for that,” he countered with a cheeky smile, putting the cigarette between his lips. “Remind me, have I asked you before what your mum said when she found out that you smoke?” you put on a face of the deepest thought. “…she doesn’t know,” he answered, lighting it.

He was right, it was pretty nice.

You sat in comfortable silence. When he finished smoking, you put your head on his shoulder, almost pulled in. It came to you without another thought, to wrap your arm around his, your other hand resting in his elbow, and he rested his cheek on top of your head.

The sound of rain all around you, tapping against the leaves above brought you a sense of serenity. You looked at the sky above, wondering if you could perhaps spot a rainbow somewhere, as the sun poked through the clouds for a moment.

You felt the gentle weight lift off of your head and, almost instinctively, you lifted your head too.

“Do you think I’d look good with earrings?” Bill asked, thinking deeply.  “Or just like one, maybe..?” You chuckled, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this guy.

“Probably depends on what kind of earrings you’re thinking of…” “Something cool,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, of course. Well then, I guess so. Would match your vibe,” you said without much thought, not looking at him.

He was suspiciously quiet, so you turned your head and saw the mischievous smile. “So I’m cool, huh?” he shrugged his eyebrows.

“Forget I said anything,” you shook your head again and tried not to smile or blush. “Fat chance. I’ll store this one deep down,” he announced. “Though I may have heard that one once or twice before…”

You had no witty comeback for that, and your façade cracked quickly. You started laughing and Bill joined in quickly. It felt light-hearted.

You didn’t know when his face had gotten so close to yours, he brushed a strand of hair off your face and his hand stayed on your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin delicately and you leaned closer, leaving the last step to him.

He connected your lips, yet they were barely touching. He tested the kiss as if he expected you to push him away any second, and when he pulled away it left you awakened and frustrated.

He saw that in your eyes, while his showed shock. He kissed you once again, passionately this time, pulling you in. You kissed him back with just as much emotion, you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hood got pulled off in the moment. You failed to realise you broke the umbrella charm. One of his hands remained on your face, cupping your jaw, while the other found your waist, both of them felt as if they were made to be there.

He pulled away reluctantly. Only then you realised just how soaked the two of you were and laughed about it. Needless to say, you ran back to the tent hastily, to dry yourselves off.

And that night you could safely say that it felt, by far, the best out of all the previous times, to be wished good night by Bill when he lied next to you in the warm bed, as the sound of rain lulled you to sleep.

And so, the third day ended.

The final day before the new moon, the weather was considerably nicer.

You didn’t talk much on your way there. It was getting dark quickly, but you could see the spot in the distance – the almost courtyard-like area where the tower, or the passage to it, was supposed to appear, stuck out like a sore thumb.

You arrived there and waited. It got dark, and you still waited for something to happen.

“It said the passage can be opened, but not how to open it,” Bill pointed out.

You didn’t say anything. Truthfully, because he was right. And the fact that there could be something you should be doing right now, but instead, you were just standing there, was scary. You could be waiting until the very dawn and nothing would happen, and for your next chance, you’d have to wait for a full moon cycle, or come back to the goblins empty-handed.

“It’s… it’s still early, the sun has just set,” you attempted to stay positive, looking up at the dark sky and trying to find the moon.

It took some more waiting for you to start seriously worrying, Bill was pacing the area and smoking. But then you felt something.

Very strong magic in the air, it was like the whole ground was shaking, shaking your insides, while none of that physically happened. The moon shone through the opening in the leaves above, and once more, the rock below you started glowing.

This time the glow kept growing, it became unbearable, you had to close your eyes to protect them, and the magical force became so strong it was pushing you away from the circle.

This lasted for maybe two minutes, yet felt much longer. You saw through your eyelids that it was dark again, and nothing was pushing you away anymore. You were finally able to take a proper breath.

“You okay?” Bill asked, concerned, from somewhere behind you. “Yeah,” you answered and nodded, even though you could see nothing. You cast Lumos Maxima overhead and Bill finally joined you as you realised you stood a few meters away from the steps leading up to an old, wooden doorway. Doorway into the tower.

You looked at each other as if trying to find answers for what just happened. When you walked up the steps slowly and approached the doors, everything suddenly became eerily quiet. You could no longer hear the forest around you.

“What do you think?” you asked Bill quietly. “Just… just stay on your guard.”

You did so, but without seeing any other option, placed your hand on the door handle.

You knew immediately what happened, feeling it drive through your mind. It was enchanted, the entrance used Legilimency on you, but this was not your first time. You blocked your mind quickly, and the lock clicked soon. You pressed the handle and opened the door ever so slightly, just so it wouldn’t lock again.

“It was enchanted. The handle. Some security charm, it used Legilimency on me,” you explained, coming down from the shock. “Did you manage to block it?” Bill questioned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes,” you replied as if it were obvious.

“Can you use Legilimency on objects?” he asked after a few seconds, remembering you were a natural Legilimens. “Think about it, Bill, you should have your answer. Though if something’s charmed to have sentience, maybe. Haven’t tried…”

You stepped inside, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for anything dangerous. Bill lit the lamps, and you were able to get a proper look at the spacious room.

It looked like a normal house. From the 1400s of course, but nonetheless. Not a hermit’s lair, not some kind of evil den, but a house someone lived in. It wasn’t even dusty, or cobwebbed. An illusion charm?

After searching the entire first floor you still didn’t come across a study, a lab, or anything alike. You were about to leave one of the rooms when you heard a familiar purr.

“He had a cat..?” Bill wondered, but your eyebrows furrowed. “A chimaera, rather,” you replied, making his face fall.

There was no other way out for you, anyway. Hoping your experience with chimaeras would prove enough for you to handle this one, somehow, you stepped back into the main hall.

The beast stood guard in the centre of the room, proudly, and didn’t show any signs of aggression just yet. It watched contently as you made your way along the walls towards the exit at first, but it didn’t like it when you got closer to the staircase upstairs.

Its purrs changed into growls and its hoofs kicked the ground angrily, giving you a clear signal to stop. The surroundings changed, the paint started to peel off the walls at first, everything began to age rapidly. The tower seemed to shake the stronger, the louder the beast roared, and threatened to fall apart.

There was no other solution now, but to fight it. Yet even for two certified, skilled wizards such as you and Bill, and adult chimaera was a dangerous challenge. Stunning spells were flying, you had to dodge attacks from the beast who could not decide whom to attack while thinking of a solution.

As you were getting tired, so was the beast, but that still didn’t mean your success was close. You saw your chance when it was about to pounce the ground in front of you. You got ready to cast the Conjunctivitis curse and raised your wand.

The chimaera hit the ground and you felt a sharp pain at the back of your neck, then everything went dark.

When you eventually came back to your senses, you felt incredibly tired. Your head was lying on something soft and warm. You could open your eyes, but you didn’t want to, you felt comfortable like that.

“Y/N..?” you heard a warm voice say as someone’s fingers delicately pushed some hair off your forehead. Bill’s voice, and Bill’s hand, you realised. And underneath your head, was Bill’s lap.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw his face, a bit shiny and dirty due to the dust that stuck to his sweat. He was relieved. You also noticed you were still inside the main hall of the tower.

“How do you feel?” You took a breath and wet your lips. “I could use a nap,” you admitted, making him smile.

You sat up with his help and felt the back of your head. It still hurt a bit, but probably not as much as it should’ve. You could feel a freshly healed wound there - Bill’s doing.

“Where is it?” you asked, impressed with how not only Bill remained intact after you’d collapsed, but also you were still alive. “I managed to push it back into one of the back rooms and close the door,” he answered, looking into space as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

You looked around all the rubble and remembered why you’d come here.

“Soo… all that for nothing, huh,” you said grimly. “Well, not quite,” Bill corrected you, “there’s still the attic.”

You carefully climbed the spiralled stairs, hoping for no more security beasts or charms. You took the door which stood out the most and hit the goldmine.

A room full of bookcases and worktables, measures, ingredients and lab glass. Little bottles everywhere, and above all, scrolls upon scrolls of parchment.

It felt weird to finally be done with it. You were almost sad to leave, as you hiked back down the mountain the next morning, but shook the feeling off instantly. You couldn’t know what the future held for you. What epic assignments were yet to come. One thing was certain.

“Soo…” Bill began, looking straight ahead. “…Still looking for a place to live..?”

[touyota]

Hoe Hoe Hoe

☁️ Summary: Satoru Gojo *cough* *cough* I mean Santa Claus jingles your bells on Christmas Eve.

A/N: y’all this fic whooped my ass literally, but i think it came out pretty good. i think my smut is getting better, so hopefully i keep the momentum going for all my future fics. (also ik i’m late for the holidays but better late than never!)

☁️ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Elf Reader

☁️ Warnings: Size kink, bulging, slight breeding kink, gojo’s massive 🐓

The holidays were always an overwhelming time at the workshop. You and your fellow elves worked overtime to fulfill the yearly abundance of Christmas lists that were received, and to be quite frank; you were due for a fucking break. As a head elf, you spent your days monitoring the shop floor and managing quality control. Everything and anything went through you, especially before it got to Santa.

You were handling a crisis on the floor, something about a particular video game console shortage, when you received a message from the big man himself.

“I swear... if I hear another word about how we are out of stock, I will personally shove a candy cane up your ass. We’re fucking elves, just go make some more.“ You shooed the elf off before taking a deep breath. You wanted to tear your hair out, every minor inconvenience didn’t require your assistance, yet they always found a way to you. In a last-ditch effort to keep your composure, you began to practice a method you learned in your weekly anger management meetings.

“One….two….three….four….five” You exhaled, opening your eyes to see a particular pink-haired headache, elf approaching waving and skipping towards you. You started counting faster; hopefully, he’d be gone at the end of your count.

“One..two..three..four..five”

“Boss! Oh, boss! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Fuck he was getting closer. You braced yourself, hoping he was referring to another supervisor standing near you.

“Onetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfive”

“What’s with the counting boss? You must be counting down the hours before we give everyone the best Christmas ever!” Yuji cheesed, barely able to contain his giddiness. Oh, bless his heart, Yuji was somewhat new to the shop and was a hard worker, but a few screws were missing upstairs.

“I have a bomb ticking inside my head.” you deadpanned, hoping to spook him off so you could go hide in your office.

“Oh…..Oh no, boss, you need to get checked out immediately, we need to call the police, the ambulance, the bomb squad, we might have to cancel Christmas. If we cancel Christmas, they won’t get their presents, and they’ll all be upset an-“ It was truly endearing. You could almost see the steam pouring from his ears as he panicked about you and your well-being. You pinched his lips shut before he managed to alert the rest of the workshop.

“Yuji, I was lying…what do you need?” The panic drained from his face, a relieved smile taking its place.

“The big man wants to see you, something about squashing a few last-minute details. He trailed off, focusing his attention on someone in the distance. “Nobara, stop drinking my eggnog, and don't touch my cookies!” Yuji ran off, thankfully abandoning your conversation.

You began your trek to the big man’s office, the big man being Satoru Gojo, direct descendant of Kris Kringle and newly appointed Santa Claus. Gojo was indeed an enigma, barely leaving his office only for special occasions such as Christmas Eve and Christmas itself. The only way you could speak to him was if he requested you directly.

The walk to the office required dragging yourself up to three flights of stairs before you reached the red door decorated with brightly colored green tinsel and oversized candy canes.

You made sure to knock, you weren’t completely devoid of manners, and you wanted to keep your job. A sultry voice sounded through the door.

“Come on in.” You gently open the door, almost tip-toeing in before slowly closing the door.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I don't bite unless you want me to.” You scurried towards the desk, not wanting to waste any more of his limited time.

“......Sorry, Mr. Claus, I came as soon as Yuji told me he said something about a few last-minute details.”

“He was right; come sit right here.” As inviting as he looked, patting his lap, you took several hesitant steps before perching yourself on his lap. “Get comfortable; we have a few things to discuss, nothing outrageous, just a few... things.” You played the velvet fabric of your skirt as he droned off about the minor details that could’ve been dealt with by any other elf. You grunted in response to the open-ended questions asked. “I think that’s it. Did you get all that?” He skimmed through his never-ending checklist to confirm.

“Oh...um, yes, I did, in fact, I’ll go deal with that right now.” You dust your lap off and lean forward to push up off of the oversized chair. Only to find that you haven’t moved an inch. “Um…...Mr. Claus…I can’t move, and I need to….” you trailed off, disrupted by a gloved hand tilting your chin, forcing you to look directly into those soft blue eyes.

“Tsk tsk tsk, I knew you weren’t paying attention, puddin’.” He faked a face of hurt before using the arm that wasn’t wrapped around your waist to swipe his cluttered desk clear. “I said that-” Pausing to slam your form down unto the oversized desk. “I said that all I want for Christmas is to fuck you until this desk breaks.” He whispered, pressing several gentle kisses along the column of your neck. The room temperature had increased tremendously, and the red wool suit pressed against you made it no better.

“Uh...wow...um, it’s getting kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” You pulled at your collar, hoping to put some kind of separation between you two. You were in no way trying to reject his advances. You were just entirely ambushed by how fast things were moving. Another urgent concern was the sheer size of “Santa.” You were already genetically disadvantaged in the height category as an elf, but this behemoth of a man towered over you. It left you to believe that he was more than proportionate in the nether regions.

“I think you’re right. See, that’s exactly why you’re my right-hand puddin’.” Before you could blink, you were almost instantly rid of your gown, leaving you in your unfortunately modest black undergarments. You pouted, wishing you were given some kind of warning in advance. “Poor baby, next time I’ll let you get all dolled up for me, maybe I’ll wrap you up with a bow and leave you under my tree.” You couldn’t contain your whimper at the thought, roping your legs around his waist, mimicking the same motion with your arms around his neck.

A loud horn sounded off, signaling Santa’s departure was nearing. “As much as I’d love to sit and ravish you till dawn, duty calls.” You were drawn into several more gentle kisses before Gojo deepened the kiss, nearly smothering you. You were on the brink of suffocation when he finally eased up, allowing you to catch your breath. when you felt your panties tugged to the side. “You have such a pretty pussy puddin’. I could sit here and play with it all day long.” Two callused fingers daintily drew circles around your clit, stopping to pull at the sensitive nub causing you to whine at each tug.

“Ah- p-please...Santa” You couldn’t wait anymore. Each stroke brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“Please, what pretty girl? I won’t know until you tell me.” Purposely speeding up his ministrations.

“Please...please...please...fuck me.” You cried out, you could barely contain yourself, and he wasn’t making it any better.

The air knocked out of your chest as the blunt tip of his cock breached your entrance. There was a brief pause before Gojo’s hips slammed forward, setting a brutal pace. You couldn’t form any thought, only incoherent mumbles, and whimpers leaving your mouth. The desk was rocking with each thrust, nearly throwing you off.

“Y-you feel so fucking good, ugh...this sweet little pussy sucking me in. You like that, huh? Using you like a little fuck toy? Y-yeah, you’re Santa’s little fuck toy, you just lay there and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you full of my kids. I’ll make you Mrs. Claus, and you won’t have to work in that shitty little workshop anymore. How does that sound?” Gojo’s cock pounding away at your cervix, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure.

You could almost cry because it all sounded fucking amazing. You were floating on a cloud each stroke. The rhythm was slowing to deep, deliberate thrusts when you felt an oversized hand rest on your belly.

…….Holy shit.

You nearly fainted seeing the outline of his massive cock bulge through your belly. You could tell Gojo was close, skin slapping as his thrusts sped up again. The final press of his palm forcing you over, and Gojo the same with his final thrust. Both of you were murmuring and moaning as he nudged into another breath-taking kiss. The desk finally loses its bearing and falls apart, leaving you both as panting messes on the ground.

You had wood chips in places that they shouldn’t be, and the chuckling giant next to you wasn’t helping. Your quirked an eyebrow up and questioned him. “What’s so funny?”

“I think I need to add a new desk to my Christmas list.”

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Because of personal experiences, can I get some headcanons or a scenario of Abby with a gf that gets tired really easily? Also I just wanna get this out there, I am really glad your blog exists

Thank you so much for your kind words, they really mean a lot. I hope this is similar to what you imagined 💌 (I hope you like poetry!)

about 2k words of fluff and a little angst at the beginning. content warnings for language, ableism.

“This is it, Y/N. I’ve let this behavior slide too many times.”

Your heart dropped and your breath caught in your throat. Trying to fight back tears, you forced yourself to answer.

“I’m so sorry James, I can’t help it. My body just can’t work for hours without break, I’ve tried everything.”

You threw a soapy towel back into the washtub and took a step towards your supervisor.

“Please don’t throw me out, I don’t know where else I could do my part!”

“Well, you certainly aren’t doing your part here.”

He was speaking the truth; he had caught you way too often, crouching in the corner with your head between your knees or sitting on the floor against the wall half asleep. You couldn’t help it; this was your third job at the stadium and every time you had managed to get yourself fired. It had nothing to do with the laziness your previous bosses had accused you of or with simply not wanting to work. Your body just seemed to work against you.

After more than an hour of standing, there was no way for you to stay standing up and working at the washing station now, the hard bodily labor was just too much for you. You constantly felt like you were going to faint, no matter how much you ate, drank and slept. As soon as you were unsupervised, you’d have to sit down or take a break because you couldn’t hold yourself upright anymore. It was becoming harder and harder to find acceptance from others and a place where you could work and contribute to the WLF while also taking care of yourself.

James rubbed the back of his shaved head and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I seriously don’t see how this is doing any of us any good. You should report in with task management tomorrow and see if they can give you a less physically straining job. I’m not sure how I feel about your little dizzy spells or whatever, but if you’re actually not fit enough for work, you should find something else.”

The rage that started boiling in your stomach sent hot tears down your cheeks. This wasn’t fair. You loosened the ties on your apron and tossed it on a table, then you left without another word.

The only person who didn’t constantly batter and scold you was Abby. She had met you in a stairway, sitting on the steps and leaning your head against the cold railing to stay conscious. The blonde had practically sprinted up the stairs toward you and asked if everything was okay; after you had explained, she had nodded and offered you her arm on your way back to your room. From that day on, she had checked in almost every day, bringing you snacks at work or dinner from the cafeteria when you were too exhausted to go yourself. She had believed you without hesitation and made it her purpose to help you out wherever she could.

Ignoring the surprised faces of the people you walked past, you stormed to your room. You were lucky to live alone, even though it was just a shoebox of a room. You had a bed, a locker, and a tiny window that you ripped open before throwing yourself on your bed.

You hated having to rely on others for support and you had spent the last year mostly on your own, hiding your condition and isolating yourself from others so they wouldn’t notice and judge you, even though the story of you falling asleep and taking too many unauthorized breaks at work had already made its rounds.

With Abby it was different. You knew she never wanted anything in return, she just liked to spend time with you and knew what it was like to be the odd one out, the one everyone had already heard about. In return, you liked to give her little drawings of her and her friends, short comic strips and poems you wrote when you had some time to yourself. She loved sitting on your couch and listening to you talk about poetry; although she was a big reader she had never really gotten into that genre.

She had gained your trust in no time and was the first person you really told everything that went on in your head. Well, almost. You hadn’t dared to tell her about how her presence made you feel like you were flying, how your heart sometimes started racing when she looked at you and how all you wanted sometimes was to fall asleep in her arms after a long day.

Your pillow was wet with tears and your head was pounding from crying for too long. Great. You reached under your bed and felt around for the water bottle you had accidentally kicked under there earlier. As you gulped down the lukewarm water, you finally felt the knot in your throat release its grasp from your airways.

Exhausted, you turned over your pillow and pulled your blanket up. This day was fucked anyway, you might as well declare it complete and hope to wake up in a better mood tomorrow.

It was dark when you awoke, disturbed by a quiet squeaking noise and the beam of light shining through a crack in the door. A big figure was squeezing through the gap and softly closing the door again. The light from under the door was just enough to see Abby tiptoeing toward you.

You couldn’t help but smile and pushed yourself up onto your elbows. She immediately froze in her tracks.

“Fuck, did I wake you? I just wanted to check on you and bring you some dinner.”

You switched on the lamp next to your bed and soft light illuminated the room. Abby had a burrito in one hand and an apple in the other. She looked genuinely sorry.

“It’s okay, I’ve been sleeping for hours. I just had a terrible day, that’s all.”

She immediately sat down next to you, putting the food down on the bedside table and brushing a strand of hair out of your face with a worried smile.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

Her sweet concern brought back those stupid tears and you were too distraught to fight them. You shook your head and cleared your throat.

“No, I just got kicked out of work. Again. I honestly don’t know what to do. Maybe admin will just throw me out completely tomorrow.”

Abby squeezed your hand.

“Bullshit. I’ll talk to them. Why are they making you work these stupid hard labor jobs anyway? They could put you somewhere you can use your head instead, you’re the smartest person I know!”

She gently brushed her calloused thumb over your cheek.

“These assholes are not worth a single one of your tears, Y/N. James can honestly go fuck himself.”

You snorted and Abby beamed at you, happy to have gotten through to you.

“Hey, how much have you eaten today?”

You thought for a second, then you answered: “Some oatmeal for breakfast? I left work before lunch and came straight here.”

The wolf sighed and shook her head. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself, you know that?” She handed you the burrito. “Here, it’s still warm.”

The first bite was delightful and you let out a moan without thinking. Blood shot into your face immediately as both of you stared at each other for a second, then Abby broke out in laughter.

“See? You’re practically starved. I should have gotten you two of those.”

She suddenly straightened up.

“Oh, I completely forgot!” She pulled out a small paperback from her back pocket. “Manny gave me this. Some fling of his gave it to him and he doesn’t know shit about poetry and never will. He remembered you liked poems so he said to give this to you.”

“You told him about me?” you asked in astonishment.

“Of course I did, we’ve been hanging out every day for the past few weeks! Do you have any idea how amazing you are? How much you’ve taught me?”

With your mouth full, all you could do was smack her shoulder and give her a doubtful look.

She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers into each other.

“I mean it, Y/N. I know you don’t think of yourself as very interesting or fun to be around, but you’ve made my life so much better just by spending time with me. Even if you’re always falling asleep on me,” she added and grinned.

You didn’t bother trying to be witty and grabbed the book instead. The title surprised you.

“Selected Poems by Sappho. Why the hell would that woman give this to Manny?”

Abby shot you a questioning look. “Why not?”

“Abby, Sappho is the OG lesbian. All her poems are just about yearning for the touch of a lady lover.”

“Oh.” Now it was the wolf’s turn to blush. “I had no idea.”

Sitting up, you turned so you could lean your back against the wall. You tapped on the bed right next to you.

“Come on, Abs. Let me tell you about Sappho, then.”

Hesitating only for a brief moment, Abby took off her boots and scooted closer to you.

You spent the next hour reading her poems and telling her stories about women and romance in Ancient Greece. The blonde listened attentively, asking a few questions here and there. After a while, you felt your eyelids growing heavier and your concentration dwindling, as much as you tried to keep it together.

Abby gently laid a hand on your knee.

“You tired, babe?”

Your head flew around and you stared at her; had you heard that right? Abby gave you a shy smile.

“I can try to read some of these to you until you fall asleep. Only if you want me to, of course.” She shook her head as if trying to get rid of a thought. “I should just go. You need to get some rest.”

Before she could get up, you had already placed your hand on her underarm.

“I’d like that. I’m sorry for just drifting off like that all the time, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

She cocked her head. “Don’t apologize for that. No one can just change the way they feel.”

You slid underneath the blanket and, following an impulse, rested your head on Abby’s thigh. You could feel the heat underneath the fabric and her muscles twitched involuntarily as the wolf took a deep breath and opened up the book again.

deathless aphrodite of the many colored throne,

daughter of zeus, weaver of spells, I entreat you.

do not with grief and anguish

tame my heart.

Drifting away into that wonderful state between waking and dreaming, you let the words of Sappho, spoken by the soft voice of your most trusted friend, the woman who took care of you and listened to you, the wolf that was tame only for you, sink in.

Do not with grief and anguish / tame my heart.

There were so many things in this world that made life harder and turned people bitter. You would not be one of them. You would not tame your heart. You would let it speak freely, you would let it burn for the woman cradling your head and protecting you from anything the world could throw at you. Tomorrow you would tell her. Tomorrow.

stars around the beautiful moon

hide back their luminous form

whenever all full she shines

on the earth

silvery

All your life, you had felt connected to the moon. Its unwavering beauty, its consistent waning away and returning in full shine, it had always assured you that no matter how bad things got, they would turn around for the better. It would be okay. You would be okay, more than okay with Abby by your side.

-

let me know what you thought (especially if you requested this!)

[coldflame96]

Lunch Break

Summary: Tohru skips lunch to avoid being an inconvenience. Thankfully, she has a loving huband to set her straight. 

Rating: G

Also found on AO3 and FF.net

Inspired by a RL situation with a friend of mine. 

The store was busy today. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was starting to get hungry. They had just finished with the last customer in line. 

“Hey, Tohru-kun,” Her supervisor got her attention, “I know it’s kinda late, but did you wanna take your lunch break?”

“Yes,” she sighed in relief. “Thank you, Kaori-san.”

She opened the mini fridge and felt her heart skip a beat. It was empty...She thought back to when she had left this morning and rested her head on the counter, groaning. She must’ve forgotten it in the fridge this morning.

“What’s wrong?” Kaori-san asked. 

“I was in such a rush this morning I forgot my lunch,” she admitted shamefully. 

“Oh, well that’s no big deal! Just go to the cafe around the corner. Kenji-kun is working and he likes me so just tell him I sent you and he’ll make whatever you want for free.”

“I can’t do that!” 

“Eh? Why? Will your husband get jealous? He doesn’t have to know.”

She shook her head. “Kenji-kun is always working so hard I can’t trouble him like that!”

“Trouble him?” Kaori-san laughed. “Man, you’re really funny sometimes, Tohru-kun.” She frowned. She was sure Kaori-san didn’t mean anything by it, but sometimes it felt like she was a small child being dismissed even though they were close to the same age. She didn’t really like it...

“Oh! Good afternoon!” Kaori-san greeted as the bell rung. 

Well...her shift was over soon anyway. Might as well just hold out until she got home. She would be fine.

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

She wasn’t fine. It had been a rough day. She ended up having to stay three hours later than initially planned due to a coworker calling off sick. She clenched her stomach. She was so hungry! 

On shaky legs, she managed to let herself into their apartment. Thankfully, her and Kyo-kun had gone grocery shopping yesterday so there was enough there to make something easy. 

Just the thought of eating made her stomach yowl in protest. 

She set up two boiling pots of water, one for rice, the other for the potatoes. 

She mustered up whatever energy she could to start peeling the potatoes, arms heavy with fatigue. She was really tired. Hopefully Kyo-kun wouldn’t be too disappointed if she tucked in early after dinner. 

She heard the creak of the door. “Tohru?” Oh, so he was home already. 

“Kyo-kun!” she jumped up from the table, apparently too fast as it made her woozy, and tried to run to greet her husband but ended up tripping on the way, strong arms keeping her afloat from under her shoulders. 

“Whoa! Clumsier than usual, huh?”

This would normally be the time when she would defend herself, but her tongue was...stuck. 

Kyo-kun, always so perceptive, cocked his head in concern. “Tohru, are you okay?” he stroked her cheek. “You look pale.”

Say something. “I-I’m fine, Kyo-kun.”

He wasn’t convinced. “You don’t really look fine.” He put a warm hand on her forehead, brow furrowed. “You don’t have a fever..”

She pulled away, careful not to be too abrupt. “I’m fine, really! I just feel a bit faint. Once I get something to eat, I’m sure I’ll be right as rain!”

“What, did you take your lunch break really early today or something?”

She giggled nervously. “Yeah, something like that.”

“What time did you eat?”

She froze, blanching. She was never a very good liar, and with the way he was staring at her now, she knew she wasn’t getting anything past him. 

“Before I left,” she mumbled.

“Huh?”

She cleared her throat. “Last time I ate was...before I left.”

Kyo-kun gave her a steady look. “That was over 11 hours ago.”

She averted her eyes shamefully. His fingers crooked her chin up so they were facing each other. “Tohru, why would you not eat?”

“I-um-” she floundered, “I was in a rush this morning and I completely forgot to pack my lunch and I didn’t realize it until I was already there.”

“There’s a cafe down the street from you. Why didn’t you just order from them?”

“W-well, I-I thought about it but I didn’t really have time to go pick anything up.”

“So have someone else do it. You could’ve called me and I would’ve brought you something.”

She waved her hands. “Well, everyone was really busy and I didn’t wanna bother them and have them make food for me. It’s my own fault I forgot my lunch, not theirs and-”

He groaned, “Tohru, you’re not bothering anyone, that’s literally their job. They get paid to make food for people. Including you.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. She’d been kicking herself for it all day. “By the time I had time for a break, I was already almost off anyway, so I figured I would just wait til I got home.”

He cupped her cheeks. “You should’ve eaten something sooner, a pack of crackers, anything. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

She jerked away. “I’m fine, really!” And then she swayed and soon enough she was in the air, tossed over her husband's shoulder like a sack. 

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he asked nonchalantly, not even grunting with the effort of carrying her at all, which she vowed to file away for future use. “I’m taking my wife to bed.” Almost married for a year now and she still felt a tingle in her chest when he called her that.

“What?! But- but dinner!-”

“I’ll finish it.” And then he gently tossed her on their bed. “Last thing we need is for you to pass out while cooking.”

She wanted to argue, to protest, but the longer she sat, the more the energy left her. And all that was left...was shame. Shame at herself for not eating over something so silly, shame that Kyo-kun had to come home from a long day just to worry about her...Her throat got choked up and she felt her eyes go misty.

“Tohru?” He asked softly. He was always so kind, so much kinder than she ever deserved. Long fingers fanned her cheeks, wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes and he was kneeling in front of her now at eye level. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m always being stupid and making you worry about me.”

“You’re not stupid and if I don’t worry about you, then who will?” She didn’t have much of an answer to that. “I’m not mad at you,” he sighed out, “And I don’t mind taking care of you. If you don’t want me to worry, then you should be better at taking care of yourself once in a while.”

She sniffed, nodding. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He grabbed something out of his pocket. “Here.” 

She scrunched her eyebrow at the wrapped snack. “A granola bar?”

“You need something in your system before dinner. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

He was always so rational. She smiled softly. “Thank you.”

He hummed in response, pushing her hair back to kiss her forehead. “I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready. Just sit here and relax for a bit.”

And then he was gone. 

She obediently opened her granola bar, chewing in slow, careful bites. She really would have to be more careful, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like Kyo-kun could trail her around to make sure she wasn’t hurting. She smiled at that visual image. Cute. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, sinking into the mattress, slowly getting through her granola. 

“Oi,” she got a light bonk on the head and she jolted. 

“Oh, Kyo-kun! You’re back already?”

He raised an eyebrow and then burst into chuckles. 

“What?”

“I’ve never seen someone space out while eating a granola bar.” he stroked her hair. “You’re really adorable sometimes.”

She blushed and he just laughed some more and she felt her breath leave her a bit. He really was beautiful, wasn’t he?

“C’mon, come eat with me. I’ve missed you.” She knew he meant it. Kyo-kun didn’t just say things to butter her up. Before she could respond though, she was being hoisted from under her knees into the air. 

She squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms instinctively around his neck. “Kyo-kun, I can walk on my own,” she protested weakly. 

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s more fun this way.”

He started walking out, effortlessly. Did she weigh anything to him at all?

“Nah, you’re pretty light.” he responded, and she stiffened as she realized she said that out loud. 

“Am I?” She’d always thought she was pretty average sized. 

“I’ve held kittens heavier than you,” he drawled. 

She pouted, huffing, “Now you’re just bullying me.”

He snorted. “You love it though, don’t you?”

Well, two could play at that game. “Of course!” she chirped innocently, “I love everything about you.” And then she kissed his jawline sweetly and watched with delight as his cheeks turned pink and his grip slackened enough that she could slide down to the floor gently. 

She saw the spread on the table and clapped her hands together. “Wow, Kyo-kun! It looks so good!” Then she grinned at him. “You’re so amazing!” 

His face almost matched his hair now. “It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, “It’s just dinner.”

They’ve known each other for almost half a decade now and he still got so bashful over the smallest things. 

She threaded her fingers through his. “Thank you.”

The shy smile he gave her made it all worth it. 

“Hey, Tohru?” he asked as she sat down to eat. She looked up at him curiously. “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Just call next time. You’re never a bother. Not to me.”

Of course she knew that. It had been clear to her for a long time, but it didn't stop her eyes from getting watery. Her traitorous brain still sometimes told her she wasn't worth it, and here he was to tell her otherwise. She wondered if she'd ever get used to it. 

"Oi, don't get all weepy on me now," he scolded gently. "You need to eat." 

She rubbed her eyes. "Right." 

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

It’d been over two weeks since that incident and she’d been extra diligent to make sure she brought her lunch with her every day.

Kyo-kun had said she could call him if she needed to, but she still wanted to avoid doing that if she could. 

She felt the rumble of her stomach. She had finished with wiping the counters, cleaning the windows, and organizing the snack areas. She should ask Kaori-san for a break soon…

"Hey, Tohru-kun," oh! And there she was! "There's a super hot guy over there checking you out! I know you're married so you want me to send him away?" 

She scrunched her brow. Super hot…? She looked where Kaori-san was pointing and her eyes widened at the familiar copper hair. 

"Kyo-kun!" She gasped. 

"Wait, you know him?" But she was already running from behind the counter, only vaguely registering Kaori-san calling her. 

She only had eyes for the man in front of her, still in his gi and looking so effortlessly handsome. 

"Kyo-kun!" She grabbed his sleeve.

He smiled at her. "Oh, hey. That was quick." 

"Wh-what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the dojo?" 

"I'm on lunch. I wanted to see you. Have you taken your break yet?" 

"Uhh, no, I was just about to…"

"Take it now." He nodded towards the counter where Kaori-san was watching them with rapt attention. "That's your supervisor?" 

"Yes."

"Want me to tell her?" The woman in question narrowed her eyes. 

"No, that's okay!" She waved her hands. "I've gotten a lot done already so I'm sure she won't mind! I can..ask her." 

"Alright, I'll wait here then." 

His eyes lingered on her as she carefully made her way behind the counter to grab her lunch. 

"Sorry for the short notice, Kaori-san, but I wanted to take my break now if you don't mind." 

"Just a minute, Tohru-kun," Kaori-san stopped her in her tracks. And then she lowered her voice. "Who is that guy?" 

"Eh? He's my husband!" 

"Him?" Then she put her chin in her hands. "Wow, no wonder you're always talking about him. You hit the jackpot, didn’t you?" 

Tohru felt something warm in her chest and she whispered fondly, "Yeah, I did." 

"Does he have a twin by any chance? Brother, sister, it doesn't matter to me." 

"Sorry, Kaori-san," she said sheepishly, "he's one of a kind." And he’s mine, a tiny, possessive part of her brain whispered. "I'm going on break now so I'll see you later." 

And she left before Kaori-san could give a proper response. In the past, she would be worried about coming off rude and she would probably apologize later, but she had a wonderful husband waiting for her and he was first priority. 

And as they walked out hand in hand, she was reminded not for the first time and certainly not the last, how blessed she was to have him.

[songsoomin]

Let Me Down  Part 3 (A, F)

Synopsis: CollegeStudent!Mingi x CollegeStudent!FemaleReader, BestFriend!Yunho. You’re still struggling without Mingi but circumstances lead you to get closer to Yunho.

Song inspiration: “From the Heart” Another Level (Not related but I would kill to hear Jongho sing this song)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: None really, just a suggestive line towards the end.

Word count: 10.5K (I’m so sorry)

Posted: 6th July 2020

Note: I just got this photo off Google but I think it must have been made by someone going by the name ‘Fix On’ because the tag is on there - so just making it clear it is not my photo.

Part 1 Part 2

"Can we have more water for our table, please?"

"Sure, I'll just get that for you." You said politely as you went to get the water for Table 7.

"Y/N, Table 10 are ready for their mains now and Table 5 want their bill." Your supervisor, Max, told you as you headed back with the water.

"Sure thing." You said, wishing your shift was already over but you were only an hour into it. It was lunchtime on a Saturday so the restaurant you worked at part-time was rammed, as usual. You had graduated but still hadn't found a permanent job yet.

"Y/N, you look exhausted - are you ok?" One of your colleagues, Tiffany, asked you as you took a few seconds to breathe at the till station as you printed out Table 5's bill.

"I don't know...I've felt tired for the last couple of weeks now. I'm probably just low on iron, I haven't had much appetite lately." You admitted, "I'll get some supplements after work."

Since you last saw Mingi you hadn't been eating properly again. Impossibly, saying 'goodbye' to him for a second time had caused you much more pain than the first one. You should never have given in to your emotions and slept with him that night. You gave in because you weren't strong enough to say 'no' when he was right there looking at you like he used to - like he still loved you - but you didn't have the courage to take him back and risk being hurt again. Now, it had become clear that your heart also wasn't strong enough to deal with the fall out from that decision. You'd fallen into the same cycle you had the first time; not eating, not sleeping, trying to ignore the aching in your chest but while you were trying your best to carry on with your life without him, you were really just walking around like a zombie. Just existing while all the life had been drained out of you.

"You should look after yourself better." Tiffany said, concerned. She was older than you and married with two children and her natural mothering instincts seemed to come out with everyone. "Especially working on your feet in such a busy place like this."

"I know. My appetite has been almost non-existent since I've been a bit sick and when I get home I'm too exhausted to do anything. It's just a bug but I'll try to eat better - I promise."  She looked at you skeptically but let it go.

You carried on with your shift, running here and there after demanding diners but just felt worse as it wore on. You had picked up quite a few shifts lately so it was no surprise you had worn yourself out but you needed the money. You were living on your own now since Suzy had moved in with Lucas after graduation and Jina had moved back home. Your parents owned their own company and had bought you a small one bedroom apartment - nothing fancy, just enough for you - but you still needed to pay the bills.

Coming to the end of your shift you started to feel dizzy and nauseous again but soldiered on, thinking if you could just get through it you could go home and sleep. As you were passing the bill to one of the tables in your section you all of a sudden started to lose all your focus, darkness washing over you and you felt yourself slipping.

"Y/N?" You felt something cold and wet being pressed against your face as you blinked your eyes open to see Tiffany looking down at you. She was seated next to you as you lay on the couch in the staff room. You obviously looked confused at the situation as she gently explained, "You passed out. Max carried you in here and asked me to take care of you."

"I what? I'm so sorry." You apologised trying to sit up but doing it too quickly and feeling dizzy again.

Tiffany passed you a vitamin energy drink and told you to keep still and drink it. While you drank it, you noticed she was eyeing you, as if there was something she wanted to ask but wasn't sure how.

"Is there something wrong? You look a little uncomfortable." You said, smiling a little, trying to ease her discomfort.

"Well...I'm just worried about crossing the line. We're just work colleagues so I don't want to pry into personal matters." This had you confused so you asked her to go on, curious to know what on Earth she was thinking.

"It's ok, you can ask what you want. I can see something is bothering you."

"Ok..." She started slowly, "You said you'd had a bug recently and it had made you sick...."

"Yeah, I have. I'm still feeling it a bit - I was nauseous before I fainted, actually." You recalled the last thing you remembered feeling before you woke up here.

"How long has it been going on for?" Tiffany enquired gently.

"Oh...I'd say about two weeks really. It comes and goes though." You still didn't know where she was heading with this; you imagined she was going to nag you to see a doctor, though.

"Each day but mostly in the morning?"

"Yeah..." You blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"

Tiffany sighed, "Y/N...I think you may be pregnant."

You sat there looking at her like an idiot for a second. There was no way.

"Don't be silly. I just haven't been looking after myself. I'm just run down, that's probably why I feel so bad."

"Y/N...I have two children, I know the signs of early pregnancy. Morning sickness, tiredness, fainting - I'd bet you have tender boobs, as well, right?" That last bit shocked you a little. It was true, you did but you thought that it was just because your period was due. Now you really thought about it, though, you realised it had been a while since you'd had one.

"But...I can't be." You said, still thinking Tiffany was overreacting a little. "I haven't been with anyone since my ex and we always used con-" You stopped short as the realisation hit you. "Oh."

You and Mingi had always used condoms. Except that one night about six weeks ago.

Mingi, I want you inside me.

Baby, I don't have any protection on me. I didn't expect this to happen.

Mingi! I need you. Please fuck me.

You hadn't thought about it the morning after, hungover and too caught up in the pain of letting him go again.

"I think you should go and take a test, Y/N. As soon as you feel up to moving."

You nodded dumbly at Tiffany, desperately hoping she was wrong and that the symptoms were just a coincidence. An hour later, however, you were sitting in your bathroom crying and staring at two little blue lines.

                                                      ********

It had taken you days to accept the situation you found yourself in and then a few days more before you could face telling your parents about it. They had been really supportive, although, a little disappointed that you were in this situation due to being drunk and stupid. They told you that they would support you in whatever decision you made so you set about trying to decide if you were really ready to be a mother or if it was better to end the pregnancy.

You'd always wanted children and, at one time, you had even imagined having them with Mingi - somewhere in the future - but Mingi wasn't the father you needed for your baby. He was immature and unreliable. Your parents lived quite far away now and were busy running their company. Suzy and Jina had promised their support and offered advice as best they could but Jina also lived some way away and Suzy had her own life and her job to worry about. You knew they would all help as much as they could but you couldn't ask them to neglect their own lives for you. If you were going to do this, it would be alone.

After much soul searching and many sleepless nights, you decided you would keep this baby. You weren't against abortion, per say, but it wasn't for you. Deep down you knew you would never be able to go through with it.

Now you just needed to prepare as best you could and really hope you could do this.

                                                       ********

You were nearly 3 months gone now; not showing yet but some of the worse symptoms were still there. You were starting to fell a bit more energetic but the morning sickness hadn't gone away yet. You really, really hoped you wouldn't turn out to be one of those unlucky women who had it for the whole 9 months. Today, however, you were still very much feeling it when you ran into Yunho.

"Y/N! Oh my god - I haven't seen you since graduation." Yunho beamed at you, "How have you been?"

"Hi Yunho!" You said, giving your tall, blonde friend a hug. True you hadn't seen him for a while and you had been close until about three months ago but avoiding Mingi meant avoiding all his friends, as well.

"What are you up to? Do you want to grab a coffee?" Yunho asked in his usual warm and friendly manner and you couldn't resist; you weren't good at making new friends so it had been a while since you'd had anyone to chat to like this.

"Sure, I'd love to. “I am quite thirsty after shopping." You said looking for the nearest coffee shop and spying a nice-looking one a couple of shops down. "Is this one ok?"

"Oh, yeah, this one is nice - I've been here a few times." Yunho said as you walked together. As you walked through the door, though, a particularly rough bout of nausea hit you and you darted for the bathroom, dropping your bags on the nearest table and trying to convey an apology to Yunho as you ran.

You must've been in the bathroom for about five minutes being sick and trying to think of something to tell Yunho - after all, he was Mingi's best friend and, whether right or wrong, you were trying to keep this from him. You didn't want him involved. Eventually the sickness passed and you made your way back out to the front of the coffee shop.

You reached the table Yunho was sitting at to find him with a coffee already and, opposite him on the table, a glass of water and a small packet of ginger biscuits.

"I hope you don't mind; I got these for you." He said, smiling. "My cousin had a baby recently and said ginger biscuits really helped ease her morning sickness."  

"Yunho...What are you talking about?" You said, trying to sound light, as if he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. In reality, you weren't doing a good job of it, you could hear the hint of anxiety in your own voice.  

"These rolled out of your bag when you dropped them on the table." You looked at the small bottle Yunho held in his hand - it was the pregnancy vitamins you had bought earlier. You looked away, not knowing what to say. There was no denying it now.

"So who's the lucky guy?" He said, trying to ease the tension.

"Mingi." It came out as a mumble but he heard it fine given the shocked look on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's Mingi's baby." You looked down at your hands, feeling uncomfortable.

"Right. Ok." Yunho looked lost in thought for a moment - probably trying to work out how, given you left Mingi about six months ago but you were clearly in early pregnancy.

"Graduation night." You explained simply.

"Ooohhhh! I remember!" Yunho exclaimed, "He didn't come home that night but the next morning he came back in such a state. He wouldn't tell us what happened, though."

You recounted the details of the evening to Yunho; about the man who tried to assault you, how Mingi saved you from him and that you spent the night together. You didn't go into detail except to admit that you'd both been half-drunk and had failed to use protection.

Yunho nodded in understanding but seemed bothered by something, "I know he's been a mess lately but why didn't he tell me about this? I'm his best friend."

"He doesn't know." You mumbled, looking at your hands again.

"Y/N....don't you think he has a right to know? He's going to be a father." You looked up to find Yunho looking at you but not in a judgemental way - more sympathetic.

"I know and I've struggled with it. I've wanted to tell him but he isn't capable of being the father my baby needs. He can't even look after himself, how would he look after a family? He constantly lied and let me down just so he could have fun - he only ever thought about himself."

"I'm not saying you should take him back but I do think you should tell him. He deserves that much." Yunho replied gently, seeing how upset you were becoming.

"I know it's selfish of me...but I don't know if I could stand him being in my life - seeing him but not being with him. I still love him, Yunho." You spoke earnestly, hoping he could understand. "I'm sure he probably has someone else now and, to be honest, I wouldn't be able to bear seeing him and some other woman playing happy families with my child."

"There's been no one else, Y/N." Yunho admitted, surprising you. "He's been an absolute mess since you left him. He was starting to get it together but after graduation night he fell further. He goes out to work but that's all he'll leave the apartment for. When he gets home he just shuts himself away. Hongjoong and I are really worried about him, he doesn't sleep well and drinks more than is good for him."

As you took in this new information the ache in your chest, that never went away, throbbed. It hurt to hear that Mingi was hurting so badly but it didn't change your decision.

"All the more reason why he can't be my baby's father. Please, Yunho," you almost begged the man sitting opposite you, "...please don't tell him."

Yunho looked uncomfortable and you knew he didn't like to keep something this big from his best friend but he agreed nonetheless, "Ok, I won't tell him but I really want you to rethink doing it yourself."

The atmosphere turned a bit lighter from then on; you fell into a comfortable conversation about work and life in general until you realised it was getting later and you had an appointment to go to.

"I'm sorry to have to go, Yunho but I actually have my first ultrasound scan today." You apologised while gathering your bags.

"You're not going alone are you? You said earlier that you didn't really have anyone close by." You smiled at the look of concern on your friend's face; he'd always been a good listener and cared for others so much.

"I'll be fine, Yunho. You don't need to worry about me."

"Y/N, you can't see your baby's heartbeat for the first time and have no one to be there with you. I won't let you." The look of determination on his face suddenly turned less confident, "I mean, as long as that's ok - I don't want to intrude but you should have someone to share such a special moment with."

You couldn't disagree with him; it would feel a little lonely. If your parents were closer you would have asked your mum to come with you. You also didn't want to ask Suzy to use one of her allotted leave days from work for you. Although you had accepted you'd be doing this pregnancy alone, you had to admit it would be nice to share moments like these with someone - even if it was just a friend.

"Come on then, I'd love to have some company."

Yunho beamed and stood with you to leave, offering one arm for you to hold and the other to carry your shopping as you made your way to the clinic.

You laid on the bed while the sonographer squeezed the gel on to your pelvic area and used the ultrasound probe to spread it around; you were really excited to see your baby for the first time. Yunho sat quietly on a stool next to you looking quite curious himself, having not seen one of these scans before.  

The sonographer found your baby and pointed out the head, arms and legs and, most importantly, the heartbeat. You looked at the screen in awe at the tiny fluttering heart and when the sonographer turned the sound of the machine up you could hear the whooshing sound each beat created. You looked back at Yunho with tears in your eyes and he smiled back and took your hand in his large one and gave it a squeeze for emotional support. You were so glad you'd accepted his company; it would have been sad to experience this all alone.

You both sat there watching the screen as the sonographer took the measurements and declared you to be 11 weeks and 5 days pregnant and gave you your due date. Lastly she printed out some pictures of your baby and popped them in a little envelope for you to take home. Once back outside you had to make your first appointment to see the obstetrician for your 16 week check. The receptionist was very friendly and told you all the things you would need to bring along.

"We'll need to know your family medical history, details of any medicines you take...basically the more info you can give the doctor, the better. Oh, and Daddy, we'll need your family's medical history, as well."

"Oh, he's not the -" You tried to correct her but she wasn't listening.

"So, we'll see you in about four weeks." The friendly receptionist finished with a smile.

You figured it didn't matter anyway, you could just let the doctor know at the next appointment that you didn't know the father's family history.

Yunho walked you back to your apartment, chatting with you the whole way.

"Thank you for being there with me today, Yunho. I really appreciated your support."

"Anytime, Y/N." Yunho waited as you found your key and opened your door then popped your bags just inside.

"Listen...I don't want you feeling you have to go through all this completely alone." He began, "I may not be able to do much but I can at least come with you to appointments if your family can't be here and keep you company, if ever you feel lonely here all by yourself."

"Yunho, I really appreciate the offer but I don't want to take up your time." You smiled at Yunho's caring and generous nature but didn't want to be an imposition to him.

"Y/N. Don't be silly. My work place is really flexible and I don't have much on otherwise. Anyway, we've known each other since school, I think you can let me be there for you as a friend."

"Thank you, Yunho, that means a lot."

"Anytime." He rubbed your arm gently and made his way down the hall of your apartment complex.

                                                     ********

Just over four weeks later you were arriving back at the clinic for your 16 week check with the obstetrician when you heard a familiar voice,

"You didn't call me." You looked around to find Yunho leaning against a lamp post, waiting for you.

"I was going to....but I thought I'd be being a nuisance." You smiled as he walked towards you.

"Why do you think I'm here," he laughed, "I knew you'd think like that. We may never have been super close but I've known you for a long time."

"Fine.” You smiled up at him, “Let's go in then."

The appointment went well, the doctor checked your health and listened to the baby's heartbeat but when it came time to talk about medical history it became a bit awkward.

"I...Well, I'm not with the father so I can't really get his family's medical history."

The doctor looked at Yunho, clearly having thought it was him but he held his hands up and explained, "Aah, it's not me - I'm just a friend here for support."

The doctor nodded in understanding but asked gently, "If you can access it at all, it would be very helpful."

"I'll try." You sighed. You knew it wouldn’t be easy.

You made your next appointments which were the anomally scan at 21 weeks, followed by another check up with the doctor.

"I know when those appointments are so if you don't invite me, I'll just turn up again." Yunho playfully threatened as you left the clinic.

"Yunho?"

"Hmm?"

"How difficult do you think it would be to find out Mingi's family history?"

Yunho stopped and looked at you with furrowed brows. "It's not the kind of thing that comes up in normal conversation. If I start asking him whether his family ever had any birth defects or genetic illnesses, he's going to wonder what the Hell is going on."

"Ok." you sighed, defeated, "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be fine. I was with him for 5 years and he never mentioned anything like that."

You moved closer to Yunho's side and held on to his arm, "Thank you, though...for being with me again. It felt a lot less lonely with you there."

"My pleasure. Do you want to grab something to eat? It's almost dinner time."

"I am hungry. My appetite has come back since the morning sickness went away."

"Great," he looked at you with that bright, beautiful smile that always made you smile back, "what do you wanna get?"

As the weeks went on you began to spend more and more time with Yunho. He gave you a lot of his time when he wasn't working; you guessed he was free because the other guys' jobs were more 9-5 than his more flexible one. Most of the time he came over to your apartment and you watched a movie or show on Netflix with a bowl of popcorn. You'd become much closer with Yunho, so much so that it was him you always thought of first when you needed someone to talk or just to have fun with. You still saw Suzy often but she was with Lucas so much you ended up feeling like a third wheel and seeing them so happy tended to remind you that you were alone.  

Although you tried not to ask about Mingi, Yunho occasionally said things that made you think that he didn't spend a lot of time with his best friend these days. They still lived together but it seemed Mingi was still shutting himself away a lot of the time and drinking a lot. It hurt you to think of him suffering alone and, as much as you tried to stop, you still thought about him a lot. You still cried often, mostly at night when you laid in bed alone and wishing with all your heart that things had turned out differently and he could be here with you, holding you in his strong arms. The aching in your chest that had been with you since you left Mingi still refused to go away, becoming more painful on those night you laid in bed thinking about him.

At least when Yunho was with you it was better, you felt calmer and happier. He had become so important in your life now - your best friend, really - and you didn't know what you'd do without him. Sometimes you'd look up at him as you cuddled against his side on your couch and think that he would make the perfect boyfriend and an amazing father. He was funny, always making you laugh and cheering you up when you were down, and so caring. In fact, it was because he was so caring and loved skinship that it felt comfortable for you guys to cuddle while watching TV and he often grabbed your hand or slung his arm around your shoulders while you were walking together. To top it all off he was amazingly good-looking, especially with those big, warm eyes and the bright smile he always seemed to have but, even when you thought this way, something stopped you from feeling anything more than friendship. As hard as you tried, you didn't seem to be getting over Mingi, at all.

                                                     ********

You were at 22 weeks now and visibly pregnant with your bump obvious for everyone to see. You'd had your anomally scan and doctor's appointment a week ago and, to your relief, everything looked absolutely fine - you'd even got more detailed scan photos of your growing baby now it was bigger. You were offered the chance to find out the sex of the baby but you'd decided to keep it as a surprise so, as you shopped for baby clothes, you were picking out neutral colours.

You'd only really bought maternity items and a few baby basics until now but as you were over half way you decided it was really time to start picking out more important items. You had spent Saturday with Yunho looking at the big things like prams and cribs but hadn't made any firm choices yet, however, you did have lots of bags full of baby clothes, soft toys, bathing accessories and all the things you were going to need ready for when your 'Little Bun' came. You had asked Yunho along for the company and a second opinion but he was also a really good bag-carrier and absolutely refused to let you carry any bag he deemed too heavy.

It was when you were walking through the park on your way home that you felt a movement. You had felt a kind of fluttering before but not been sure if it was your baby moving or not but this was a very definite kick. You stopped and gasped, your hands on your bump so at first Yunho thought something was wrong and started to worry.

"It's ok, Yunho..." you laughed, "I just felt the baby kick for the first time."

"It's kicking?" He replied, amazed.

"Do you want to feel?"

"Of course I do!" Yunho playfully looked at you like you were an idiot to think otherwise.

"Wow, you're growing so strong, Little Bun." Your now-best friend exclaimed as he felt the tiny kicks.

Yunho looked just as excited as you were, it was a common mistake for anyone seeing you to think that he was the father because, true to his word, he had been with you every step of the way making sure you never felt alone in this. You both knew you were just friends and he'd told you on one of the many deep conversations you had late at night that he wasn't trying to take Mingi's place, he just wanted to be there for you.

However, the way you both stood there as Yunho held his large hand on your growing bump with a look of awe on his face at feeling your baby kicking would make anyone think that you were a young couple about to become parents - and that's exactly how you knew it looked when you turned to see Mingi standing a few feet away from you.

You'd never really considered the possibility of running into Mingi because Yunho had told you how he'd shut himself away in the apartment when not at work but now you saw him standing in the park watching you and Yunho looking for all the world like a couple in love. He was with Hongjoong, Jongho and Yeosang and they all stood there slightly behind him with equally shocked expressions. The look on Mingi's face, however, caused your heart to clench painfully. He stood there, his eyes moving from you, to Yunho, and then to Yunho's hand on your obviously pregnant tummy, with a look of utter betrayal and heartbreak.

"Mingi...." Your voice was small, you didn't know what to say, you couldn't seem to get any other words out.

Mingi looked away from you, like he couldn't bear to look at you, and over to his best friend.

"Mingi...it's not what it looks like." Yunho quickly said, trying to fix the misunderstanding as he could see exactly what Mingi was thinking.

"Oh, really? Because it looks like my best friend has got my ex-girlfriend pregnant." He was angry,  Yunho tried to calm the situation, worried Mingi’s temper would get the better of him again.

"It really isn't like that, Mingi." Yunho almost pleaded with him.

Mingi scoffed, not believing a word of it. "You must've swooped right there in after we broke up - or did you even wait that long? Was this all going on before?" Suddenly he turned to look down at you with accusation in his dark eyes, " Is that why you left me?"

"Mingi...no." You wanted to explain but Mingi wasn't hearing it. He gave you both one last pained look and strode right past you.

As the others followed your ex-boyfriend, you felt helpless; Hongjoong gave you both a look of pure disappointment, shaking his head as he went with Jongho looking much the same but adding, "Wouldn't have expected this of you, bro." aimed directly at Yunho. Yeosang passed by last and placing a hand on Yunho's shoulder briefly, he simply said, "You must have some big fucking balls to pull this kind of shit."

You stood there frozen for some minutes, tears just streaming down your face as Yunho hugged you, doing his best to console you.

"It'll be okay, Y/N. I'll talk to him...make him understand."

You hadn't wanted Mingi to know but now he had found out in, perhaps, the most hurtful way he possibly could have. You felt horrible. You were an awful, awful person.

"You're not an awful person, Y/N." Yunho tried to reassure you but the guilt was already making a home inside you. "Let's just get you home and then I can find Mingi and explain all this."

                                                     ********

Mingi POV

Mingi sat on the couch in the apartment he shared with Hongjoong and Yunho, drink in hand, glaring at the door. He was waiting for his supposed best friend - he knew he'd come home soon and attempt to explain away his betrayal - but Mingi was so angry. As if it wasn't bad enough that he saw you had moved on and were pregnant with someone else's child, it was his own fucking best friend who had got you pregnant!

He didn't even look at Hongjoong, Jongho and Yeosang as they hovered around the apartment; most likely waiting for the inevitable fight Mingi would start. He knew they'd all been worried about his behaviour for some time now but he didn't care, he was in too much pain himself to care about how anyone else felt.

Mingi was pulled from those thoughts as he heard Yunho's key in the door, signalling his arrival and as he walked through the door, it was all Mingi could do to not leap up and punch him in the face.

"Mingi, please listen, it's not -" Yunho started but was quickly cut off.

"I can't believe you could do this to me!" Mingi shouted, "You more than anyone else. We've known each other since we were five and you do this to me?" Mingi stood and took a few steps towards Yunho who was holding his hands up and looking somewhat nervous. They had the same height and build but Mingi had a temper and Yunho didn't want to fight him.

"I didn't do -"

"Stop lying to me!" Mingi shouted and Jongho subtly moved closer ready to hold Mingi back if he made a move towards his best friend.

"You know better than anyone how much it killed me when Y/N left me....how hard it is for me to get over this." Tears were starting to fall from Mingi's eyes as he was trying to let out all the hurt and frustration he had felt since you left him, "Did you think what it would do to me to see you with her - and to see her carrying your fucking baby, as well?!"

"It's your baby, Mingi!"

Yunho had to shout to stop the angry tirade and it worked, silence filled the room as Mingi just stared at Yunho and the other three men stared between the two of them.

"It's mine?" Mingi asked in a small, uncertain voice.

"Yes. It's yours. Do you not remember the night after graduation? You took her home and fucked her without using protection."

"Jesus Christ, you fucking idiot, Mingi." Hongjoong sighed out loud.

Completely stunned, Mingi sat down on the couch again; he remembered it but it had never occured to him that this would happen.

"Why didn't she tell me?" Mingi asked, "And why didn't you?" He threw at Yunho accusingly.

"She didn't want you involved and it wasn't my place to tell you. She begged me not to."

Yunho came closer to his best friend now he was calmer and handed him a small envelope, "Y/N asked me to give you this."

Mingi opened the envelope and took out the photo from your last scan, he stared at the image of the baby, touching the paper where he could see its tiny hand.  

"This is my baby?" He asked again, trying to process this sudden shift in his life.

"Yes. It's your baby, you idiot." Yunho rolled his eyes, happy that the tension in the room was easing.

Mingi picked up his drink and took a swig, suddenly remembering something.

"Is this what you've been doing during all that time you spend out of the apartment. Seeing Y/N? Are you together? It might be my baby but that doesn't mean you haven't still stolen my girlfriend."

"For fuck's sake, Mingi!" Yunho shouted, exasperated. "No...you know what, I do like her. She is amazing. While you've been here drinking and shutting yourself away from everyone, she's been trying to do all this alone with no family and hardly any friends here with her. Do you even know how strong she is? Or how hard this whole situation is on her? Of course not because all you think about is yourself! I have just been being a friend to her; trying to support her through this so she's not alone. And I would have made a move except for one problem.... she's still in love with you. So stop fucking drinking and get your shit together because in 3 months you're going to be a father and right now you're nowhere near good enough for Y/N or your baby!"

Shock crossed Mingi's face as Yunho slapped the drink out of his hand. He couldn't take all this in. You still loved him? He had thought he had seen it in your eyes that last night you slept together but in the morning you told him to go so he had assumed you'd only been with him that night because you'd felt vulnerable and needed someone.

Yunho knew he'd been harsh but he needed to be. Mingi needed to grow up if he was going to be there for you and the baby. "Look, I know quite a lot about this pregnancy stuff now and I know what Y/N needs from you. If you want, I’ll help you get back on track. I want her to be happy and I don't think she ever will be without you. And even though you've been a complete dick, I want you to be happy, as well."

"Thank you." Mingi quietly said, feeling he didn't deserve a friend like Yunho. He'd been so awful to everyone over these last months and they'd only been trying to help him. And if he was ever going to deserve you again, he knew he'd have to get his act together quickly.

                                                     ********

Can we meet? Please.

You'd been staring at the text message from Mingi for about an hour now. You hadn't heard anything from him for about a week after he saw you and Yunho on the street and you could imagine the hurt that must've caused him but Yunho said he'd explained everything and he'd calmed down. He was still a mess but to just give him a little time to get his head around it. It was fair enough, after all, you'd had months already to process the fact that you were going to be a mother three months from now but Mingi had only just found out he was about to become a father. As you thought about it, you felt guilt spreading through you. Was it the right thing to have kept it from him just because he hurt you? He was always bound to find out one day but how much of his child's life would he have already missed by that point.

Meet me at the coffee shop we used to go to. 2pm

You replied, feeling anxious; now he knew there was no point trying to keep him away but you'd have to deal with seeing him on a regular basis whilst knowing you still weren't over him.

At 2pm you sat in the coffee shop; you and Mingi used to come here all the time back in college, when you were still together. You'd been waiting nervously, playing with your fingers and looking up every time the little bell signalled the door had opened.

Mingi walked in and scanned the room for you then made his way to your table. You looked at each other for a moment before either of you spoke.

"Would you like anything?" He asked a little awkwardly.

"Just an orange juice, please. I can't have too much caffeine."

"Oh, yeah...I guess not." At your reply he looked down at what he could see of your bump behind the table and away again quickly. He went up to the counter to order the drinks, returning shortly after with your orange juice and an iced Americano for himself.

You looked at each other for a minute or so, without saying anything. Last time you'd seen him he looked a mess - thin with dark circles under his eyes and longish, messy hair where he'd not bothered to cut it. Generally like he wasn't looking after himself. Now he looked almost well; still tired and somewhat thin but much better than before.

"You look better than when I saw you." You ventured carefully, not wanting to remind him of that day too much.

"Yunho's been helping me get myself together." His deep voice was quieter than usual as he ran his hand through his freshly cut black hair.

You were both feeling awkward seeing each other after the last time but one of you was going to have to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you. I was so hurt that I didn't want you involved so I wouldn't have to see you but it was selfish of me. I should have told you."

Mingi looked at you, surprise on his face, as if he hadn't expected you to say this. Maybe he thought you'd still be too angry at him, after all, he'd been surprised you agreed to meet so quickly.

"I understand why you didn't. I realise now that you leaving me was my own fault. I neglected you when we were together and put myself and my friends first. I know I let you down and hurt you a lot." Mingi didn't look directly into your eyes as he said this, feelings of guilt present within him. You sat and listened quietly as he continued on. You were surprised at seeing a level of maturity he'd never shown before.

"I'm not going to ask you to come back to me - I know I don't deserve that - but please...let me be a part of our baby's life. I want to show you I can be there for you both, for whatever you need."

"Mingi, I'm not going to keep you out of our baby's life. I realised by not telling you it wouldn't only be you missing out; I'd be robbing the baby of knowing it's father...and it's grandparents, too."

Mingi's eyes widened like he'd suddenly thought of something bad. "What's wrong?" You asked a little worried.

"I hadn't even thought about that." He said groaning.

"What?"

"How the fuck am I going to tell my parents that I'm going to be a father in three months? They're gonna kill me for being so stupid and not using a condom."

You giggled quietly at this man who was about to become a father but was still worried about his parents scolding him.

He looked at you apologetically, "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I should've been more careful but I missed you so much - I wanted you so badly, I didn't think about what could happen."

"Hey," You replied gently, "It was both our faults. We were both stupid and I seem to remember me being the one begging you to do it."

"How did your parents take it?"

"They're supporting me but, of course, I got the lecture about how stupid I was to not use contraception." You admitted laughing.

"I'm glad they're ok with it. Let's just hope my parents are ok, too." He still looked worried but a little more relaxed now.

"Mingi," you started, turning more serious, "As I said, I won't keep you out of your baby's life but if you let Little Bun down like you did to me, there won't be any more chances after that."

Mingi looked at you earnestly as he replied, "I won't be letting either of you down. I promise you."

"Little Bun?" He enquired, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh...yeah, I decided not to find out the sex of the baby so he or she is 'Little Bun' for now."

Mingi smiled finally - you'd missed his smile so much but it still hurt to see him so for now you decided to cut short your meeting.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Mingi asked, still polite and a little awkward.

"I'll be fine but thank you."

You walked home feeling a little lighter now that you weren't keeping it a secret anymore but still apprehensive as to how you were going to manage to see Mingi so much. You realised upon seeing him that you were no longer angry at him for how he treated you but still you couldn't trust him enough to take him back. You knew you still loved him and it was going to be hard to see him so often and not be able to be with him.

                                                      ********

You were sitting with Yunho on your couch in your apartment, watching Netflix, as usual, and talking about things in general so it was inevitable that Mingi was going to be mentioned sooner or later.

"How is everything going?" Yunho asked carefully, knowing it was still a delicate subject.

You sighed, looking down at your hands - a habit you had when talking about or doing something uncomfortable. "I guess it's ok. It's still difficult seeing him but he seems like a different person somehow."

"How so?"

"Well...he seems a little more mature, I suppose."

"Probably the consequence of finding out he's going to be a father in a few months." Yunho snorted.

"It's more than that, though." You paused, thinking; you weren't quite sure how to convey it in words. "I can see he's still hurting and that he's still a bit of a mess inside but it's...it's like there's something missing from him."

"There is." Yunho replied, seriously now, "You're missing."

You cocked your head, looking at your best friend questioningly.

"Mingi isn't Mingi without you. He took it for granted that you'd always be there and so he didn't treat you right but when you left him, it was like a part of him left, as well. I've been friends with him since we were five years old and I've seen him go through some hard times but I've never seen him like this. Being without you broke him."

A stray tear rolled down your cheek as you listened; you'd thought from how Mingi had treated you that he didn't love you anymore.

"If only he'd shown me that he still cared when we were together, it wouldn't have had to end with us both getting hurt."

Yunho hummed in agreement as he wrapped his strong arms around you for comfort, "Believe me, I don't think he'd make that mistake again."

"I just don't know whether to trust him, Yunho."

"He's trying really hard, Y/N. He's quit drinking, he's looking after himself better and not shutting himself away." Suddenly Yunho laughed, remembering something, "I probably shouldn't laugh at this because he really is trying so hard...but the other day I walked past his room and saw him trying to put a nappy on the teddy bear he's had since he was a baby."

Your eyes widened in astonishment, "On Ted?" You remembered the slightly tatty old teddy Mingi always kept on his shelf in his room but couldn't imagine the picture Yunho was painting.

"Yeah..." the tall blonde continued laughing, "...looked like he was trying to follow a YouTube video on baby care."

"Wow. I can't believe he's really taking this seriously." You thought for a few moments before continuing, "Yunho, I think I should start taking Mingi to my appointments now." You watched carefully for signs Yunho might be hurt by this. He had been such a huge support to you, you were worried he might feel like you were casting him aside.

"You don't know how much you mean to me, Yunho, you've been such a huge support to me and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it but if Mingi is going to be in Little Bun's life, I need to make him feel a part of it already. Also," you continued smiling, "it's probably best if I take him to my ante-natal classes where he can learn about baby care without trying to do it in secret."

Yunho looked at you, smiling back, "It's the way it should be," he shrugged, "I was just filling in for him but he should be the one taking care of you and Bun."

"Thank you." You whispered, cuddling into your best friend's side as he gently kissed the top of your head before hugging you closer to him.

                                                     ********

Over the following weeks you thought about Mingi a lot - it wasn't hard to do because he'd been texting you everyday to see how you and the baby were doing. You were thankful it was mostly texting because it gave you time to get used to having him back in your life without seeing him too much yet. Maybe he knew you needed time and that's why he didn't ask to see you too much. You'd only seen him once or twice for ante-natal appointments; the first was just a standard check up with the midwife but you asked Mingi along to make him feel more involved. You were glad you did when the midwife used her portable monitor to check the baby's heartbeat because the look on Mingi's face was one you think you'll never forget. As the whooshing sound of the tiny heartbeats came out from the monitor's speaker, a look of pure wonder came over Mingi,

"That's our baby's heartbeat?"

He looked at you wide-eyed and you nodded, smiling, not able to help the warmth that spread through you as he then looked down at your bump in awe. It was quickly replaced by guilt, though; Mingi looked so happy that you felt awful for having kept this from him and not letting him share in it with you. In reality you knew you wouldn't have been strong enough back then to see him but, still, you felt guilty.

The second appointment was for a growth scan; the midwife had been a tiny bit worried about the baby's rate of growth so she sent you for another scan. Luckily, nothing was wrong and it was nice that Mingi was able to see the baby on the screen as he hadn't been there for the other two. When the sonographer pointed out all the features to Mingi he looked absolutely enthralled; you knew this because, as well as looking at your baby on the screen, you had been watching Mingi closely. In your uncertainty about whether you could really trust Mingi to be there for you wanted to see his reactions and, although you weren't convinced yet, you were happy that he seemed to be taking this seriously. To be honest, you think that was the moment it really hit him that he was going to be a father and you understood completely as it was at your first scan that it all became more real for you.

"So...I told my parents about Little Bun." Mingi said as he walked you home after the scan.

"Really? How did they take it?" Mingi's parents were a little more strict than yours so you didn't imagine it went down too well.

"About as well as you think they would." He said grimacing at the memory.

"Was it really bad?"

"I got a very long talking to about how stupid I was and how could I have been so reckless? At least by the end of the call they had calmed down enough to ask if the baby is healthy and if you're doing well so I think they'll be ok. They were just shocked, I guess."

It was only a few days after the scan that you were spending a relaxing Saturday at home alone when you heard a knock at your door and, upon opening it, found Mingi on the other side. He looked a little awkward as he apologised for showing up unannounced but that he had some things for you. Curious, you stepped aside so he could come in but he stepped out of your view and appeared again wheeling a pram into your apartment. You hadn't actually asked him for anything so it came as a real surprise - especially as it was the exact pram you had been admiring when you had gone baby shopping with Yunho. Yunho did say he'd been helping Mingi get himself together so you suspected he'd been giving him advice on what to buy as well as supporting him to get better. Your suspicions only grew as Mingi then went back out into the hallway to retrieve a big box containing the crib that had been your favourite that day, as well.

As you stood there looking a bit stunned, Mingi stood looking a bit sheepish.

"I hope I got the right ones. I wanted to buy you some things but I had no idea what you had already or what style you wanted...so I asked Yunho. He told me which ones you seemed to like the most."

"I love them...thank you."

"Oh!" Mingi suddenly remembered something and pulled a bag from inside the pram, "I got this for Little Bun, as well."

You opened the bag and took out a stuffed toy giraffe. You laughed as you remembered they had always been his favourite animal when you visited the zoo.  

"It's perfect."

It got a little awkward then so you offered Mingi a drink and you sat talking about jobs and friends. Mingi caught you up with as much as he knew about his group of friends but he looked a little sad while talking about it.

"To be honest, Y/N, I've been a terrible friend to them. I know Yunho must've told you what a mess I've been... I shut myself away and barely spoke to any of them. I don't really know much about how they've been doing since you last saw them. I was too wrapped up in myself."

"I'm sure they understand." You said quietly.

"I want you to know how much better I am now, though. I've stopped drinking entirely and I feel like Little Bun has given me something to look forward to...to make my life worthwhile."

"Mingi," you replied, trying to make him feel better, "...your life is already worthwhile."

"Not without you." He said, looking down. "When you left me I felt like everything was over. I had never really realised just how much I loved you and how important you were to me. Without you everything else seemed so pointless and miserable. It was like all the colour had been drained from the world."

You could feel tears welling in your eyes, Mingi had told you he loved you when you were together, of course, but towards the end of your relationship it always felt like he was saying it out of habit more than really meaning it. He'd never sounded so sincere as he did now.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, "I'm not trying to make you feel bad; I just wanted you to know how I feel."

You couldn't help it then; you found your hand moving towards Mingi's and resting upon his. You looked up at him, into his beautiful, dark eyes that you had always loved most about him, and they were looking back into yours with such an intensity that you found yourself moving closer. You weren't sure if this was a good idea or if you were setting yourself up to be hurt again but what you did know was that everything Mingi had said he felt without you - the world devoid of colour and joy, and life seeming so pointless - was exactly how you had felt without him.

As you moved closer, Mingi's hand moved up to rest against the side of your neck while his thumb gently stroked your cheek. You closed the distance and felt his soft, plump lips against yours and, despite your worries about him, everything felt so right again.

Pulling away, you looked down and Mingi closed him arms around you, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I never showed you how much. I promise if you give me another chance, I'll never let you forget it. I'll never let you down again."

You took a deep breath, looking up at him you knew you had never stopped loving him, even though you'd tried to move on.

"We can try." You told him. "Let's see where this goes."

Mingi took your face in his hands and kissed you more passionately now; you could feel the joy radiating off him as his lips moved against yours, asking for entry as he gently swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. You stayed this way for a while, kissing and enjoying being able to hold each other once again until a tiny movement made you stop and laugh.

"What?" Mingi asked, wondering if he'd done something weird.

"Nothing," you smiled, "it's just the baby kicking."

Mingi looked at your bump with wonder in his brown eyes, "Can I feel?"

You realised at that moment that up until then Mingi hadn't touched your bump, at all. In fact he hadn't even tried and you wondered if he'd been trying to be considerate of you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with that level of closeness given that he was your ex. It didn't matter now, though, you wanted him there with you.

"Here...give me your hand." You reached for Mingi's hand and placed it on your bump where Little Bun had been kicking. After a second there were a few more kicks and you couldn't believe the way Mingi's face lit up like he'd just felt the best thing in the whole world.

"My baby." He whispered and you could've sworn his eyes looked a little wetter than usual, "I promise I'll never let you down, Little One."

It was as if he'd suddenly felt a real connection with the life he'd helped create; he spent most of the evening laying with his head on your lap talking to your bump. You felt a happiness you hadn't felt for so long just sitting and listening to Mingi talk to your baby while his large hands caressed your bump.

After some time you felt Mingi pick you up off the couch and carry you into your bedroom; in your sleepy haze you vaguely thought about how strong he was as you were definitely heavier than you used to be now you were more than seven months pregnant. He laid you on your bed and left a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he went to go, you reached out to him,

"Don't go. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Mingi paused, not expecting such a request, "Ok, Baby...let me just lock up and turn the lights off."

After a minute or so Mingi joined you back on the bed, covering the both of you up and holding his arm out for you to cuddle into his side. You went to sleep feeling complete again, the dull ache you could never get rid of, finally gone.

In the morning you woke on your side with Mingi's arm over you and his hand lightly stroking your bump as every now and then you felt a little kick.

You rolled over to face him, closing the distance between you to kiss his lips. Mingi smiled at you when you pulled back,

"Good morning, Baby."

"Hi" You said feeling slightly shy, not used to this yet.

You laid together just looking into each other's eyes until Mingi inevitably broke the romantic atmosphere - like he always used to,

"Is it weird that it kinda turns me on that I got you pregnant?"

You sighed heavily. Who'd have known your boyfriend had a breeding kink?

"Yes. It is." You replied, laughing. Then added, "And inappropriate given that that baby is kicking right now."

You moved his hand from your behind, where it had somehow snuck around to, back to your bump to distract him from such things. You still found him hot as fuck but in your heavily pregnant state, feeling a bit like a beached whale, you did not even want to contemplate anything like that.

It worked because he soon turned more serious again.

"I really thought I'd lost you. I'd always held on to a tiny shred of hope but when I saw you with Yunho, pregnant and looking so happy...I thought you were with him...that I'd lost you forever."

"You never lost me completely." You said, cupping his face with your hand and running your thumb over his soft skin. "And if you can't even lose me to Yunho who is, basically, the perfect man...then you never will."

You laughed as Mingi suddenly let go of you, a huge put on his face at your assessment of his best friend being perfect.

"I love you, you idiot." You said pulling him back to you.

"I love you so much, too. I meant it when I said I'd never let you down again. Either of you."

                                                      ********

Epilogue

Over the last couple of months of pregnancy you and Mingi got closer than you ever had been before and decided to move in together as neither of you wanted to be without the other. You sold your apartment and bought a bigger one together with Mingi who, despite having been such a mess, actually had a really well paid job.

As your due date approached he barely left your side and when you woke up to feel your waters breaking, he took you to the hospital, despite the look of complete horror that never left his face the whole way there. Once you were at the hospital with trained medical staff he visibly relaxed and helped you all the way through the labour, holding your hand and telling you how well you were doing and how much he loved you. When your daughter was born the look on his face was ecstatic and, as much as he tried to hide it, you know you saw some tears.

Mingi was so excited, calling both sets of grandparents, followed by all his friends to tell them the news. The grandparents came down while you were still in the hospital - and fell in love with her immediately, of course, despite their previous concerns about the situation.

Mingi's friends came round to meet your daughter once you'd got settled back at home and he was so proud to show her off.

"Guys, this is Soo Min" he said beaming,

Of course Yunho rushed in for the first hug.

"Hey, Little Bun...do you remember my voice? I looked after you and Mummy for a bit so I'd better be your favourite uncle as you grow up."

"Hey!" The other guys all chorused.

Everyone wanted to take their turn holding her but she was a bit fussy from being passed around. In fact, out of all Mingi's friends, the one she was obviously most comfortable with was Yunho - now a best friend to both of you. As Soo Min settled down and fell asleep in Yunho's arms you couldn't help teasing Mingi by whispering,

"See? I told you he's the perfect man."

Mingi looked affronted and smacked your behind, whispering back,

"Do I still have competition? Once you're feeling better I'm gonna remind you who you belong to." winking cheekily after the last statement. At any other time that would’ve send a thrill straight to your core but you were still really sore down there.

As time passed your favourite sight to see was your daughter sleeping on Mingi's chest. You'd feed her and then pass her to Mingi to be burped and she'd always fall asleep on his broad chest, looking so tiny laying on him.

He was keeping to his promise of never letting you down so well that after a few months you had to force him out with his friends for an evening because they kept asking him out as one of their birthdays approached.

"Mingi," you said, worried he was telling them 'no' because of you, "I'm not going to think you're neglecting me if you go out for one evening. Just go and have fun."

"But I don't want to leave my precious girls." He said whining.

You leaned up to cup his face in your hands and kiss him softly on the lips,

"I love you and I know how much you love me and Soo Min but, really, go and have fun - the guys will be sad otherwise."

"Ok," he pouted, "...but just a few hours. I don't think I can be away from you two for much longer."

"Jeez, Mingi...you spend longer than that away from us when you're at work!"

"And it's Hell for me." He whined over dramatically while you could only laugh.

At least you never had to question if he loved you anymore.

[pickledbeefwastaken]

The High School Dance Fic Nobody Asked For - Klave

Just a little something that was rattling in my head. Not sure whether to just let it exist as is or try to continue it into a multi-part series 🤷‍♀️

———————————————————————

The building was hardly festive—it was the opposite, in fact. It was an event center than held everything from high school dances to corporate networking events. As such, everything was square and beige, intending to be neutral, but coming across as stuffy and uninviting instead. The only thing festive about the place was a half-assed spattering of streamers and balloons wrapped around the stairwell rails and the faint thumping sound of bass-heavy music inside.

What was the theme again? He wasn’t sure, but he thought it had something to do with being underwater or something like that. The streamers were all blue and green, which supported his theory. It didn’t really matter did it? It’s not like it was a costume dance. Why bother with themes anyway?

Dave wasn’t really sure why he came here tonight. His suit was uncomfortable, stiff and starched more than he was used to. It felt like he was wearing a paper bag that was tied too tight around his throat and waist and shoulders. He handed his ticket to Erica, the soft-spoken blonde he knew from a chemistry class he took the year before, giving her a polite smile as he walked past.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting this night to feel like exactly, but he wasn’t expecting this. Despite the pessimism he felt about the whole thing, he couldn’t deny this thrum of something that felt strangely like hope, anticipation. It was like it hung in the air and the further down the hall he walked, the stronger it gripped him. He wasn’t alone in feeling it, he figured, judging by the way that couples looked at each other, hung off each other. There was an undeniable energy here that he hadn’t expected.

He turned the last corner into the dark gymnasium, passing through a thick curtain of streamers that hung in the doorway. He had to blink a few times as he entered the room to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness, registering some wandering laser lights and the occasional strobe coming from the corner of the room, behind the DJ’s table. The air smelled a little off, probably from the fog machines and Dave took a deep breath, deciding now, much too late, that this was a terrible idea. What was he doing here? Why did he decide that coming stag to a school dance was the right thing to do? He had to wear the suit and leave the house to keep up appearances with his parents, sure, but he didn’t need to come here and subject himself to his classmates. He could have gone to the park for a few hours, taken a walk downtown, sat in his truck and read Dune until it was a reasonable time to come home from the dance.

He was broken from his thoughts by a bump to his shoulder, looking to his left to see someone stumbling, realizing immediately that he recognized the face as Klaus Hargreeves. He was so clearly drunk, stumbling into his date’s side with a giggle, glancing back at Dave to say sorry, waving his hand with his lips pulled in an exaggerated pout.

“Whoops! Sorry, handsome,” Klaus said with a wink, grinning as his date tugged him, too hard for Dave’s taste, and sent Klaus stumbling a few more steps forward toward the table where the punchbowl was.

Dave hadn’t had much time to really react, but by the time he’d processed everything, Klaus was out of earshot. Dave watched the guy he was with, a tall, cranky looking guy with three piercings in his right ear, holding Klaus up by his elbow in a way that made it clear that it was out of obligation only. It put a frown on Dave’s face and he all but forgot about how much he didn’t want to be at this stupid school dance. Instead, his attention was on Klaus and his date, which wasn’t unusual for Dave, really—his attention was on Klaus more often than Dave cared to admit, whether he was alone or with his family or with whatever person Klaus seemed to be interested in that particular week.

He followed slowly, wandering his way toward the punch table. He could see a flash of silver from Klaus’s date’s hand and realized he was dumping a flask of liquid into the punchbowl while Klaus pointed at something on the punch supervisor’s shoulder, likely serving as the distraction. It was working—the supervisor’s gaze followed Klaus’s hand and he seemed to be nodding in agreement to whatever it was Klaus was saying. It only took a few seconds for the emptied flask to be emptied and for Klaus’s date to switch out the flask for the ladle, pouring drinks for himself and Klaus, nudging the liquid into Klaus’s hand.

Dave waited until they walked away to approach the punchbowl. He looked down into the pink liquid, wondering briefly what had been dumped into the bowl, but since they’d both willingly drank it, it couldn’t have been anything too bad. He scooped a cup for himself, taking a long drink of it. He got the faintest hint of alcohol on his tongue, but the punchbowl was big enough that it seemed to disperse whatever cocktail they’d poured in enough to not be very noticeable. It didn’t take long for Dave to finish off his drink and pour himself another. Maybe this would make the night somewhat more bearable. He’d have to stay for at least an hour or two to avoid any of his mother’s suspicion, so he needed a way to get comfortable. He leaned back against the far wall, nursing his punch slowly as he watched the crowd dancing under the twirling lights.

“What do you think?” A voice said beside him, causing Dave to startle a little, nearly spilling his cocktail.

Klaus was standing there with a suspiciously wide grin on his face, glancing from Dave’s gaze to his cup. Dave glanced around to see if Klaus’s date was near, but saw no sign of him, thankfully. He turned his attention back on Klaus’s glassy eyes and swallowed hard.

“Of what? You’re little cocktail,” Dave lifted his glass briefly in illustration, “Or the teenage orgy?” He joked, pointing to the dance floor, seeing teenagers writhing against each other, some awkward and uncomfortable, others fluid and practiced in a way that made Dave a little concerned.

Klaus leaned into the wall beside him, leaning his head back to rest against the smooth surface, eyes up on the ceiling, watching the lights move. “Hmm, I /was/ talking about the punch, but now you’ve got me more curious About the orgy,” Klaus commented, rolling his head to the side a little to shoot a wink at Dave.

Dave’s breath caught at the attention and he buried his blush in another long sip of his punch, polishing off his glass with a slight grimace. The taste was beginning to come through a little more clearly, leaving his stomach feeling warm from the inside out. He turned his gaze back to Klaus as he set his glass aside on the table beside him.

“What happened to your date? Shouldn’t you be out there too?” Dave asked, head feeling thick and foggy and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in the punch or the thick smoke from the fog machines.

Klaus shrugged, flicking his hand in a dismissive gesture, turning to lean against the wall with one shoulder so he could look at Dave more fully, crossing his arms across his slim chest. “Hardly a date, he fulfilled his duty and left, as agreed,” Klaus said vaguely, leaning his head against the wall again, this time to the side, looking up at Dave with his head cocked, “How about you, handsome? Where’s your date?”

Dave could feel heat rising to his skin when Klaus called him handsome, but he hoped the multi-colored lights would hide that. He shook his head, lips curling up into a small smile. “No date, I came by myself,” he answered simply, searching Klaus’s face, wondering how he’d react. Would he think that was sad? Pitiful?

Klaus surprised him by breaking into a wide smile. There was a glint in Klaus’s eye, despite the glassiness that was also there. It made Klaus look predatory. “So you’re available for a dance then?” Klaus asked, voice nearly a purr as he took a step closer to Dave, hand moving to Dave’s arm.

Dave couldn’t speak. He could only look down at Klaus’s slender fingers wrapped loosely around his bicep before tracing his gaze up his bare forearm to where his cuffs were rolled up to the elbows, following his arm up to the open cut of Klaus’s shirt, unbuttoned to almost the middle of his chest. He caught himself looking a beat too long and forced his gaze up to Klaus’s, who was looking back at him with a smirk that told him that he’d been caught.

“Is that a yes?” Klaus asked, smiling as his hand slid down Dave’s to lace their fingers together and then Klaus was moving, pushing off the wall, backing up toward the dance floor with Dave towed with him.

Dave didn’t have to answer—Klaus had already started carrying him away into the crowd and Dave was moving with him automatically, his brain on autopilot while his body was on overdrive, focused on the feeling Klaus’s hand on his own, the way the bass thumped through the soles of his feet and reverberated through his chest. His brain was still trying to catch up with his feet—Klaus Hargreeves, who Dave had been absolutely smitten over for the last few months, was pulling him onto a dance floor and now, oh wow, Klaus had let go of his hand and was moving, swaying his hips side to side, letting his arms rise up above his head. His head was falling back with a broad smile on his lips and his shirt rode up to reveal an inch of skin between his white button-up and his leather pants—Oh god, he was wearing leather pants with laces up the side instead of slacks. Dave’s mouth was dry as Klaus’s head came back up, gaze landing on Dave.

It wasn’t until Klaus’s expression shifted into a pout, forearms coming down to rest on Dave’s shoulders that Dave’s head began to get with the program. Klaus leaned in and spoke against Dave’s ear, cheek to cheek, and his heart stuttered.

“Not gonna dance with me, Davey?” He asked, still swaying, now moving in closer, swaying against Dave and Dave could see his opportunity quickly slipping away. He needed to move and soon.

He brought a shaky hand up to Klaus’s hip, thumb skating over the skin between his shirt and his pants and then he was moving, matching Klaus’s movements, swaying with him. His movements were shy at first, but Klaus’s bright, happy laugh gave him a little confidence. Klaus wrapped his arms more fully around Dave’s neck and Dave took the opportunity to wrap his own arms around Klaus’s waist, reeling him in a little closer as they moved. Klaus lifted his head and looked at Dave, much closer now. He was close enough that Dave could smell the alcohol on his breath mixed with the scent Klaus was wearing, something faintly floral and woody.

“You’re not bad at this, Katz,” Klaus said, lips curling up into a lazy smile, one that had Dave’s stomach flipping a somersault.

“You’re not bad yourself, Hargreeves.”

Klaus laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he let his head fall back, arms tightening around Dave’s neck to keep himself upright. Dave didn’t mind.

“You look great tonight,” Dave complimented, words spilling out before he could hold them back.

Klaus lifted his head and Dave couldn’t decide whether it was a tragedy, since it meant he couldn’t stare at the long column of Klaus’s throat, or a revelation, since it meant he could now look back at Klaus’ pretty face. The expression Klaus wore was more serious than Dave had seen it tonight. He stared at him like he was looking for something and Dave wasn’t sure if he hoped that Klaus did or didn’t find whatever it was he was looking for. He just looked back, waiting for Klaus to react.

Klaus seemed satisfied with whatever it was that he found in Dave’s expression because the lazy smile was curving his lips again. He batted his dark eyelashes coquettishly and bit his lip, drawing Dave’s eyes helplessly down to stare at the shine there. Oh god, he was pretty. He was so pretty and looking right at Dave, all his attention, right on him.

“See something you like, Davey?” Klaus asked impishly, sliding his hands down Dave’s arms to take his hand, spinning himself out away from Dave to give him a good view. Dave kept up, gently stretching his arm out to let him spin. He’d been invited, so Dave let himself look. His eyes roamed from Klaus’s face, down the line of his neck and chest where it disappeared into his just-this-side-of-too-unbuttoned shirt, the flash of soft skin above his pants, the long zigzag line of tantalizing skin that stretched from Klaus’s hip to his ankle. Dave pulled gently, spinning Klaus back in, where he landed with only a minor stumble with his back against Dave’s chest.

“I like all of it. You look gorgeous,” the music was loud so Dave leaned in to say it against Klaus’s ear and he swore he felt Klaus shiver.

“Davey!” Klaus exclaimed, turning in Dave’s arms to rest his hands on Dave’s shoulders and turn the full power of his playful gaze on him, “You’re gonna make me blush, you flatterer.”

He just smiled in return, feeling a little safer now, more comfortable. Dancing with Klaus was a whirlwind, all playful movements and teasing words, a push and pull that made Dave’s heart race. Klaus seemed to be having fun, so Dave felt a little braver the longer he danced with him.

“It’d be hard to see under these lights,” He said, pulling Klaus in closer again to speak closer to his ear, “Which is a shame, I bet it’d look so pretty.”

It felt like a risky thing to say, but Klaus just bit his lip on a big grin and looked at Dave like he hadn’t been expecting it—like he hadn’t been expecting Dave to hold his own with him. Klaus was intimidating to most people, especially to Dave, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to get flustered around him—both because he was so pretty it hurt and because Klaus knew how to wield his words like a weapon. He knew just how to tease, how to flirt, how to get under somebody’s skin.

The song ended and they stopped moving as the sounds faded into something softer and slower. Dave glanced around and saw people pairing up, arms around necks, hands on hips. When he looked back at Klaus, he was pulling away, pasting an unaffected look on his face to cover the flash of apprehension that Dave had caught the tail-end of.

“Well, Katz, this was fun,” Klaus said, backing away, though he wobbled a bit, nearly falling back into somebody before Dave caught his hand and pulled him back upright, right into Dave’s chest.

“Maybe you should dance with me for one more. Just until you get your sea legs, huh?” He teased, arm around Klaus’s waist, though he’d let Klaus go if he showed any sign of not wanting to stay for the slow song.

The thought of swaying slowly with Klaus in his arms made Dave’s pulse run fast and hot, but he could understand if Klaus didn’t want to sustain that level of intimacy for 4 whole minutes. Klaus didn’t seem to let anything resembling intimacy around him. Sure, he was a flirt and there were rumors of the things he did, but Dave had never seen him hold someone’s hand, cuddle up to someone, hug anyone. He couldn’t really picture Klaus slow dancing, but Dave couldn’t help but try.

Klaus looked around before looking back at Dave, the same serious, searching expression back on his face. After a beat, Klaus made his mind up and smiled coyly.

“Oh, I guess,” he said, as if he were doing Dave a favor, but when he wrapped his arms around Dave’s neck, he held him close, pressing up close to him with a smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t think this is gonna get you into my pants, Davey.”

Dave held Klaus’s hips, one hand splayed at the base of his spine, swaying with him again, slower, this time. He snorted a little and pressed his cheek against Klaus’s temple so he’d be able to hear him without needing to shout.

“I don’t think anyone could get in those pants, Hargreeves. They’re much too tight.”

Klaus laughed like he hadn’t expected it, the sound bright and happy and he tightened his grip on Dave, pressing his face against Dave’s neck for a moment as he laughed.

“Touché.” Klaus agreed, letting one hand drift down a little to hold Dave’s bicep, leaving room for Klaus to rest his cheek on Dave’s shoulder.

Dave’s heart soared, it felt like it was going to beat clear out of his chest—could Klaus feel it? He didn’t close his eyes, not wanting to be /that/ cheeseball, but he let his eyes unfocus somewhere on the floor over Klaus’s shoulder and just tried to memorize the feeling. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get this opportunity again, so he’d need to commit all of these details to his mind. He focused on the smell of Klaus’s cologne, the warm weight of him, the feeling of his hair tickling Dave’s cheek, the slim cut of his hips in Dave’s hands.

“Dave?” Klaus asked after a minute or two of swaying in easy silence, lifting his head to look at him.

“Yeah?” He responded, not able to read Klaus’s expression, but was happy to try if it meant he could look at his face, now so much closer.

“You’ve already been the best date to a dance that I think I’ve ever had, and you’re not even my date.” Klaus said eventually, face breaking into a smile, though there was still a seriousness in his eyes when he looked at Dave.

Dave smiled fondly, “Well I’m flattered you think so. I’m honored.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, probably at how cheesy this moment was, but Dave couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it because there was a redness in Klaus’s cheeks and he seemed like he was fighting a happy little smile as he dipped forward again, resting his chin on Dave’s shoulder, snuggling in closer to him. Dave was more than happy to oblige him, wrapping his arms more solidly around Klaus’s middle. They were full-on hugging at this point, hugging and swaying like the most sappy couples in school and while Dave usually rolled his eyes when others did it...

He was beginning to understand what the draw was.

————————————————————

Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389980

[echo-bleu]

FIC PROMPT: Kyle or Liz wanting to talk to Alex about his suicidal ideation.

There it is Beth! I couldn’t figure out a way to make this related to what Alex told Michael in 2x10, not without dealing with the whole kidnapping thing, but then I realized it didn’t have to be related. I’m not sure why this wanted to be post 2x06, but it is. Or, a slightly different version of 2x06.

My headcanons for Alex’s background here are the same as I used in setting fire to our insides (for fun).

[suicide ideation, mentions of suicide attempt, mentions of bullying and child abuse, vague description of a dead person, stab wound, vague mentions of the 2x06 scene]

spinning like a weathervane

“Hey,” Alex opens the door, blinking hard at the light. He squints and looks away from Kyle to wave him in, feeling like his head is going to split open. “Sorry.”

“Hangover?” Kyle asks.

“Yeah. It's fine, it'll go away.” Alex hops back on his crutch awkwardly, unstable. His left shoulder is too painful to take his weight, or he would have grabbed both crutches. Hangovers mess badly with his balance.

Kyle follows him into the living room. “I'm guessing that's not why you called me?”

“No. I, uh, I kinda got stabbed?”

“You got what?” Kyle stammers.

“Yesterday was...complicated,” Alex mutters. He sits down on his piano bench, both because it allows him to face away from the eastern windows and because he doesn't think he'll be able to get up again if he lets himself get comfortable in an armchair. He leans his crutches against the keyboard.

“Are you bleeding? Show me. When did this happen?”

Alex sighs and starts trying to takes his shirt−Michael's shirt−off. It was easier to put it on. Or maybe he just ignored the pain when he rushed to get dressed this morning, Michael and Maria's eyes on him and discomfort seeping into his bones. It's harder to ignore, now that his brain doesn't register any immediate threat. Plus, both his head and his leg are killing him. He spent the whole night with his prosthesis on, almost twenty-four hours of walking and riding in a car and fucking getting stabbed, and it did a number on his stump.

“It was cleaned up and treated, but I'm pretty sure it needs a couple stitches,” he says.

“What did this?” Kyle asks, coming to kneel down in front of Alex, setting down his medical bag. “Who did this?”

“Doesn't matter.” Alex grits his teeth as Kyle carefully rips off the bandage. Sure enough, the injury is still seeping blood. “He's taken care of. And it was an ice pick. Before you ask, yes, I'm up to date with my shots. Not my first stabbing.”

“That is not reassuring. Did you lose a lot of blood? Felt lightheaded?”

Alex shakes his head. “I, uh, fainted, but I think it was just the pain. The drive back was not fun.”

Kyle prods at the wound, making Alex hiss in pain. “This definitely needs stitches. I need you to give me a timeline here. When did you get stabbed?”

Alex watches him start to prepare his kit. “Around midnight.”

“Eighteen hours ago. And why didn't you call me right away?” Kyle asks without looking up.

“It wasn't that bad. Beside, we were in the middle of nowhere. Maria called Michael to tow us back.”

“You were with Maria and Michael,” Kyle states flatly.

“Well, just with Maria. We were tracking down a lead on Mimi's kidnapping. Guy attacked me, chased Maria, she knocked him out, and his twin shot him. Michael showed up and drove us back, and they patched me up.” Alex leaves the rest out. The awkward hours in the car, trying to breathe through the pain and not watch Maria only have eyes for Michael. How his heart broke in a million pieces, again, watching Michael so scared for Maria, watching them kiss. How he still couldn't take his eyes away from him, couldn't stand up and leave, call a ride-share or something, anything, anything not to have to watch this.

How Maria kissed him. How she grabbed his hand and put it on Michael's thigh. What could have happened, if Michael hadn't inadvertently elbowed Alex straight into his wound and Alex hadn't nearly passed out from the pain.

He will always wonder, probably. Call it morbid curiosity. By then, he was already floating far out of his body, his brain incapable of processing things. Disappearing, like he's always done when it gets too hard. Michael's shock brought him back hard, harder than any pain could have.

“And when was that?”

“We got back at dawn. Michael−” Alex pauses to grit his teeth as Kyle starts to stitch him up, “−drove me back here.”

“And none of you thought to call me? Or, you know, do what most people do when they're injured and drive to the nearest ER?”

Kyle's tone is sarcastic, but his worry is real. And that's exactly why Alex hoped until now to avoid having to tell him. “I was fine,” he says. It took him almost fifteen minutes to convince Michael that he didn't have to stay out of guilt, that he could go back to the Airstream where Maria waited. It took him almost a full hour to decide that the only way he was going to forget about that and finally sleep was the bottle of Patron in his liquor cabinet.

“That's when you decided to get hammered?” Kyle asks, finishing his last knot.

Alex shrugs. “Seemed better than just offing myself at the time,” he jokes.

Kyle's response is very much not what he expected−not that Alex knows what he expected. Kyle's face goes slack with shock and he stares at Alex for a solid thirty seconds, bloody hands and needles forgotten. At least he's already finished the stitches, Alex thinks a little hysterically.

“Alex,” he says slowly, deliberately moving his hands into Alex's sight so he doesn't come off as a threat. “Do you mean that? What you just said.”

Alex replays it in his head, quickly, trying to figure out where the hitch is. Oh. Right, regular people don't react well to that. He forgot, again. Last time Karl dragged him straight to the base hospital and he had to argue for half-an-hour with the on-call therapist that it was just a joke. And Karl knew way more than Kyle does about gallows humor.

Alex goes to deny it, go back on his words, but the thought of Karl−of his body sprawled on Alex's, eyes unseeing, heavy, so heavy, so still−makes him grimace against his will. And the moment has passed, it's too late to just wave it away. The concern is anchored in Kyle's eyes now and won't just leave.

Alex works his jaw, hesitating. “I'm not going to do anything.”

“But you think about it.”

Alex doesn't deny it.

“You know what it is, right?” Kyle asks, biting his lip. He's clearly unsure how to proceed, but he's not going to let it go. Alex wishes they could have this conversation at another time. His head feels far too heavy for his neck, and he wants to support it with his hand, but Kyle will be looking for any sign of distress, now. Which means that Alex won't get any respite. Fuck.

“Yes, Kyle, I've been to therapy. Still go. I know what suicide ideation is. Always had the thoughts. Never tried anything, beside the once, and I won't.”

Kyle's face shifts. And...fuck. Alex's brain-to-mouth filter is fucked, he's still half drunk. He didn't mean to let that slip.

“You attempted suicide?” Kyle asks carefully.

Alex swallows. “I was fourteen. I thought I'd hit rock bottom. I was pretty naive. Look, just because I think of it doesn't mean I actually want to do it. It doesn't work like that. It's just...thought patterns. That's where my mind goes when I feel bad, that's all. It's a coping mechanism.”

Kyle doesn't answer, and he goes back to treating Alex's wound, slowly and deliberately. More disinfectant makes Alex screw up his face at the sting. Kyle covers it in gauze and tapes a bandage over it, cleaner and better than Michael's was. Alex watches him, wondering if this will change everything between them. Once they got over their history, Kyle has been pretty good at respecting his agency, not mothering him because of his disability. But things changed with Karl, when he found out. It was just a few weeks before−

Alex shakes his head to get rid of the thought. He focuses on his wound instead, because physical pain is always easier to deal with. He rolls his shoulder to check his range of motion. Good enough, though using a crutch on that side will hurt for a while. Hiding it at work shouldn't be too hard, at least.

“Fourteen,” Kyle says suddenly. “That's when we stopped talking.”

Something cold settles inside Alex. “Don't you dare think it was your fault,” he snarls.

“Okay, okay,” Kyle physically backs off. “I just−I think about what I did to you a lot.”

“Look, you were a dick, but you were also just a kid. If you want to blame someone, blame my father. Not yourself.”

“As long as you remember that that's valid for you, too,” Kyle says with a raised eyebrow.

Alex looks away. He won't admit that Kyle hit a nerve, but this rings far too true.

“I'm done here,” Kyle changes the subject. “You hurt anywhere else?”

“No. Spent too much time on my leg, but that will heal on its own.”

“You need rest. I don't want you at work for at least two days. I'll write you a note, or whatever form you need to get medical leave.”

“Kyle, I can't afford my supervisors finding out what I'm doing with my free time.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “Then taking a couple sick days because of your prior injury is better than showing up sleep-deprived and with a sore shoulder.”

“Fine,” Alex sighs. He could really use the sleep, he knows, but two days of running circles in his house thinking about Michael and Maria is not appealing. And that's if his brain doesn't decide that a little stabbing calls for a rerun of every trauma he's ever had.

“And Alex? Please at least call your therapist?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “Yeah, I will.”

He doesn't see her regularly anymore, but he knows this is the right call. At least Kyle isn't trying to get him to do more, like seek inpatient help.

“Thank you,” he adds, without looking at Kyle who is zipping up his bag.

“You want me to stay?” Kyle offers. “Get some pizza, watch a movie or something?”

“You're just off your shift, you must be dying to get home,” Alex says.

“Nah. No one there waiting for me. I'll just do the same at my place. Feel like some company?”

Alex hesitates for a moment. “Sure.”

“Then get comfortable,” Kyle smiles, kicking off his shoes. He gestures at the TV. “You got Netflix on this?”

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 4

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

Adrien stood in front of the Gabriel building with a cup of coffee and a bag of freshly-baked goods in his hands at five in the morning, ready to deal with whatever the company’s directors entrusted him with before he was due at his teaching job. This was a terrible idea from the start but, as experience had already shown him, it was a much better choice to tackle the unknown and confusing tasks early in the day, rather than after handling a few classes filled with teenagers. So, filled with determination, Adrien opened the front door and stepped inside. The faster he got to his office, the sooner he’d be free to torture his students with a test on the dynamics of spinning tops before mercifully shifting the lesson into quantum physics territory.

Adrien greeted the security guards and swiftly ran up the stairs to the designers’ floor. Having almost reached his office at the end of the hallway, he paused, noticing a light coming from under one of the doors. Someone must have forgotten to turn it off before leaving the office yesterday. People here did tend to overwork. That someone was probably too tired to remember flicking the switch off and would most likely be scolded for that by their manager in a few hours. Without a second thought, Adrien headed for the door. He was already here; he could make someone’s day better by fixing their mistake before it was noticed. He didn’t expect to see anyone in the room, let alone a half-asleep Marinette who looked like she had just survived an apocalypse. Her name involuntarily escaped his lips. The look she gave him was unsettling.

“It’s five a.m.” Adrien braved. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Working. Can’t you tell?” Marinette answered, returning her attention to the garment in front of her.

He brushed away the thought of intervening and sending Marinette home to rest as soon as it sprung into his mind. If their previous encounters had taught him anything, it was that Marinette didn’t want his help. And frankly, no matter his intentions to help her, Adrien wasn’t and didn’t plan on becoming Marinette’s babysitter any time soon. He did secretly plan to find her a new job, but that would be it. She was a grown woman. Surely, she would go home when she’d had enough.

Still, looking at her, something tightened in his chest. Adrien glanced at the food in his hands and carefully walked into the room, placing his untouched cup of coffee along with his box of pastries in front of the exhausted woman. Marinette looked at him silently, nothing but malice lurking in her eyes; eyes that were once so kind to him.

“I think you need these more than I do,” he mumbled, half-expecting to hear ‘I don’t need anything from you’ in return. Strangely enough, Marinette said nothing. Not wanting to take his chances, Adrien silently walked out and closed the door behind him.

The following week, Adrien spotted Marinette a few times in the company’s hallways and by the looks of it, she felt none better, if not worse. Just yesterday, for example, he saw her leaning on the vending machine looking rather faint as she waited for a granola bar to fall out. All his attempts to start a conversation to get to the bottom of her exhaustion or to suggest she get some rest were either ignored or aggressively but politely shut down.

However, even more than Marinette’s less than stellar condition, it was a text message Adrien received that day that genuinely shocked him. He almost choked on air and dropped his cell phone when a name he’d never expected to see again popped up on his screen.

Nino: Adrien, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, and I wouldn't blame you if you delete this and never reply, but I think an apology is long overdue. For whatever it's worth, Alya and I regret and apologize for not believing you all those years back. We've learned the hard way that you were right about what working for your father would do to Marinette, so we thought you at least deserve an apology, however late it is. I do realize there's no way to fix anything now, but I hope this would make it at least a little better.

Adrien would have been lying if he said he didn't want to delete the text immediately and forget it ever existed, but the events of the last week kept his cellphone screen lit, his thumb hovering over the virtual keyboard for quite some time yet never making contact. Soon, Adrien closed the app and pushed his cell phone to the side, only to pick it up five minutes later and reread the message. He shoved his phone into his bag. Five minutes later, Adrien was reading the cursed text again. An hour after that, he still couldn't let it go, neither reply nor ignore.

Damn it.

First of all, how did Nino get his new number? Second, why would he text him all of a sudden? There had to be a reason, one serious enough to force Nino to contact Adrien after years of silence. His former best friend didn't so much as send him condolences when his father passed away. Not that it mattered much because Adrien was neither on speaking terms with his father nor was he even able to attend the funeral himself. Instead, he had been stuck at the emergency room with an especially nasty case of food poisoning, wishing he’d stuck with his usual takeout instead of thinking he could cook for himself. Still, what prompted Nino to reach out now? What did he want? What happened and what did Adrien have to do with it?

The young man groaned, dropping his head on a table. He needed to focus on his work instead of trying to pinpoint the underlying reason of why exactly his former best friend suddenly felt the need to message him an apology. Because one thing was clear—this wasn’t just a random call of conscience, and as far he could surmise, it had everything to do with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Hey, kid.”

Too engrossed in his mental turmoil, Adrien didn’t even look at his little companion flying close. “What?”

“Want a snack?” Plagg plopped in front of him on the table. “Food makes everything better, and you look a bit too sour for my liking.”

Adrien didn't answer, watching the soft glow of the screen. Despite his better judgement, he was concerned about Marinette. That much he couldn't deny because the present state of that woman was neither normal nor healthy by any stretch of the imagination. They might not be friends anymore, but as a fellow human being, Adrien couldn’t help but be concerned. As the CEO of Gabriel, he couldn’t afford to have one of his employees kick the bucket due to overworking.

“I guess a snack it is, then,” sounded nearby, but Adrien was too distracted to pay attention. What if Marinette was in some kind of trouble dangerous enough for Nino to step over his pride and contact him? What was going on, and why the hell did he still care for what was happening to her? Why did he want to reply to that message? Why were memories of the four of them hanging out together back in the day flashing through his mind all of a sudden? Why hadn’t Adrien deleted the message yet? The message from a former best friend who had betrayed him when he needed him the most?

“Open wide,” Plagg shouted in his ear.

Adrien jerked up. “Pla—”

Something soft and smelly was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth.

“There.” Plagg rubbed his paws together. “You’ll feel better in no time, kid.”

Tears pooled in his eyes as the unmistakable taste and smell of Camembert attacked his every sense. Finding the nearest trash bin, Adrien spat the grossness out and glared at his kwami. “What’s wrong with you?! You know I hate your cheese.”

“What’s the matter?” Plagg grinned. “You look more alive already. Told ya you’d feel better!”

Adrien growled and flipped his phone screen down, dropping his head on the table and covering it with his hands.

A weak knock on the door a moment later forced him to sit back up.

“Come in,” Adrien called and stood up to greet the visitor.

A petite girl stepped into the room. She looked familiar, though he wasn’t sure how he knew her.

“M Agreste?” she asked shyly, walking to his table with a sheet of paper in her hands. “I am really sorry to bother you so late, but I wanted to give you this today.”

She put the paper on the table, and Adrien immediately knew what it was.

“You’re quitting?”

“I really am sorry, M Agreste,” the girl mumbled. “But I received a proposition from a different company, and given the circumstances, I’m inclined to accept it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Adrien smiled at her. “A new job is nothing to apologize for, especially with how things are currently going here. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, M Agreste.”

“Where were you working?” Adrien asked, curious as to where he remembered her from.

“I was Mlle Dupain-Cheng’s assistant,” the girl replied.

“Oh,” slipped from his lips as Adrien remembered. He had seen her trailing behind Marinette a few times, but always too focused on the physical ruin of the first, he barely noticed the other.

“Does she know you’re leaving?” he asked absentmindedly.

“No.”

Adrien frowned. “You didn’t inform your direct supervisor you were quitting?”

“Please, don't judge me,” the girl replied quietly, shying away with every word. “Not to be ungrateful or mean to Mlle Dupain-Cheng, but I was afraid to tell her. She isn't herself these days. She's more stressed and exhausted than ever, and me quitting would be a cherry on the top of her already huge pile. But, please, M Agerste, try to understand… I can't continue like this. It was either quitting or going insane alongside Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien froze. ‘Going insane’ was a strong choice of words, but unsurprisingly, he couldn’t find it within himself to disagree or object to that statement. Marinette did look the part these days… maybe not ‘going insane’ mentally, but ‘going insane’ with exhaustion and overworking, for sure. Was Marinette even sleeping? She definitely ate. He saw her grabbing that granola bar a day prior, so she must be eating at least something—

“I’ll go now,” the girl said, intruding in his thought process.

“Wait—” Adrien reached out, but stopped halfway. He promptly pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck. Quickly glancing at the paper, he asked, “Mlle Ardoin, right? Do you know what happened? I mean, what pushed Mlle Dupain-Cheng to such extremes?”

The girl shook her head. Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment or two before she visibly gathered some courage and looked straight at him. “Can I tell you something in confidence?”

Adrien nodded.

“I suspect…” Mlle Ardoin paused, breathed in and then continued. “I know it sounds crazy, but I suspect that Mlle Dupain-Cheng doesn’t leave work at all.”

Adrien couldn’t help but frown in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“She’s always here,” the girl replied, clenching her hands together as she looked to the side. “I usually arrive before anyone else does, but Mlle Dupain-Cheng is already working. When we leave, she’s always staying behind to finish something. Last week she wore the same outfit for three days in a row, and then another one for the rest of the week. She’s never done that before. Her hair isn't styled as usual either; she just ties it in a sloppy ponytail which, again, she’s never done before. Mlle Dupain-Cheng used to always look impeccable. Now, she’s a mess. Last Thursday, I noticed a small bag with personal hygiene essentials, makeup, and some clothes. There’s also a small suitcase standing in the corner, behind one of the shelves. And judging by the sheer amount of work she manages to do when she stays behind, I can assume she stays up at least half the night, which leaves little time to go home, sleep, and come back before everyone else does.”

Adrien’s frown deepened with every word as he processed the information. It wasn’t hard enough evidence, but still suspicious. “I’ll look into it, Mlle Ardoin. Thank you for informing me.”

“Please, don’t tell her I said anything, M Agreste,” the girl pleaded. “I only told you because Mlle Dupain-Cheng was such an amazing person when we first started working together, always a hard worker and more talented than any of us. That’s why your father noticed her and let her develop her own line. But what’s going on with her now isn't normal. It hurts me to see her like this. Please, M Agreste, if you can help her, do so. She deserves it.”

It took him a few moments to respond, his mind gripped by worry. “Thank you again for letting me know, Mlle Ardoin. I’ll see if there is anything I can do.”

Before leaving, the girl said a few more things Adrien didn’t pay much attention to as his thoughts raced back to Marinette. From everything he had witnessed in this last week, one thing was clear—Marinette had become like his father. That cold, dismissive, and hostile way she was treating him… Adrien shivered. Did he really want to get involved with that kind of destructive attitude again? When he was a child, he didn’t have a choice but to tolerate his father’s treatment. Now, Adrien had options. He could ignore this annoying feeling that told him to help Marinette and let her be if that was the way she wanted to exist.

So, why? Why did he still want to help her? She'd thrown him away without so much as a chance to explain. He shouldn't care. Why did he?

Adrien swore under his breath and sat down. Thoughts ran wildly inside his mind as he debated what he could lose this time if he did decide to get involved despite everything.

Friends? He had no one close to him right now. A couple of acquaintances, but no real friends. Burned once, Adrien had never fully opened his heart for anyone else. Work? He almost laughed. There was no way he’d lose his teaching career because of Marinette. She had nothing to do with it. He doubted she even knew he was a teacher, much less which high school he worked at. His ‘leading the fashion empire’ gig? He wouldn’t mind losing that at all. It was a test run, anyway. Family? He had none. Money? He had more than enough. Love? He trusted Ladybug. He trusted that she knew him better than to question his intentions and character should anything go awry.

“More snacks?” Plagg’s voice dripped with mockery and arrogance.

With a groan, Adrien closed his eyes and dropped his head on his desk for the umpteenth time. He should probably stop doing that or he risked getting a bruise on his forehead. Adrien grumbled incoherently, his sight landing on an untouched pile of papers. He should do some work and forget for a few moments about former friends in need who wanted neither his help nor him anywhere close to them.

“So, your Princess is even more troublesome than you thought?” Plagg snarled nearby.

“She’s not my Princess.” Adrien snapped.

“She used to be.” Plagg shrugged.

Adrien closed his eyes. That old nickname he had for Marinette held so many memories within it—memories of good times when they didn't have to think about important stuff and could just have fun. He missed those times so much. Beneath all his resentment, Adrien had to admit that he did miss his friends, and only now was he starting to realize just how much. Why did everything have to change? Why did they have to change? Why did he have to mess up so badly? Even being Chat Noir was more fun back then. Adrien’s lips split in a bittersweet smile as he remembered how after patrols Chat Noir would sometimes sneak onto Marinette’s balcony for a croissant or two. They used to be friends—

Adrien jolted up. Wait a minute!

“Uh-uh!” Plagg whistled.

Adrien stared blankly in front of himself. Chat Noir and Marinette used to be friends, but she didn't know his civilian identity. Chat Noir had stopped going over to Marinette's after Adrien's fiasco, but he'd never explained the reason to her. For all she knew, he could've moved away or gotten too busy for visits.

A mischievous grin sneaked onto Adrien’s lips—something that hadn't happened in a long while. He had a plan.

Plagg narrowed his eyes at his wielder. “You look like you’re about to do something really stupid, kid.”

“You might be right, for once,” Adrien replied with renewed fire in his voice because he might have just found a way to help Marinette without her knowing anything about his involvement. At first, Adrien had thought he could find her another job and be done with it, but if anything, the last week had shown him how impossible that was without Marinette on board. Talking to her about it was out of the question, seeing as she had dismissed him every time he had as little as simply approached her. He had to come up with an alternative, and this might just be it.

This time, however, Adrien wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes. He wouldn’t rush into anything without gathering all the information on Marinette and her current situation first and then thinking everything through. Hesitantly, Adrien glanced at his cell phone. What would be the best way to start on this if not by talking to one of Marinette’s closest friends?  

“Kid, are you sure?” Plagg landed on his cell phone before Adrien could grab it. “Do you really want to poke that wasp nest again?”

“I can’t just sit back and watch her kill herself.” Adrien pulled his cell phone out from under his kwami. “Not when I can do something about it.”

“Even after everything she put you through?”

“I’m not exactly all that innocent myself.”

Plagg silently watched Adrien for a few moments before scoffing. “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when she wrecks you again.”

“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. I’m not planning on getting anywhere near that close.”

“Yeah, like you can help yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kid, you always give anything you do your whole self, and this won’t be an exception. You will end up with a broken heart again. Mark my words.”

Adrien sighed. “Thank you for caring, Plagg, but I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll remain as impartial as possible. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll buy a bucket of ice cream and deal with any broken hearts myself. If they even happen, which I highly doubt.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Plagg grumbled and flew away.

Adrien started typing.

Adrien: Even if it’s awfully late, an apology is always appreciated.

Adrien: I do wonder, though, what brought this on all of a sudden?

Nino’s reply was almost immediate.

Nino: I can explain everything in an essay under one thousand words over the text, or I could tell you everything face to face over lunch. Would it be too much too soon?

Yes, it would be, but if Nino wanted to meet after years of hostility, it might be more serious than Adrien thought.

Adrien: I've lived through worse. I can handle lunch.

A few minutes later, a lunch date with a former friend was secured. Adrien glanced at his watch. His eyes widened. Eleven in the evening? How didn’t he notice the time? Then… It might just be the perfect time for what he wanted to do. Abruptly, Adrien stood, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Kid? What’s—”

“Plagg, claws out!”

He leapt out the window and looked around. Sure enough, apart from his, there was only one other window lit, and he suspected he knew exactly who was in that room. Quietly, Chat Noir got closer and peeked in. Marinette was standing with her back to the window, working on a dress hanging on a mannequin. Little by little Chat climbed in as quietly as he could, and when his feet were safely grounded on the window sill, he produced the most seductive smile he could muster in this situation—he needed her to like him, or it was all for nothing—and purred.

“Long time no see, Princess.”

With a gasp, Marinette almost jumped in place; the scissors in her hands hit the floor with a crash as she jolted around, a look of fear and dismay on her face. His heart clenched. Dark circles under her eyes, a messy hairdo and a look of extreme fatigue on her face, Marinette looked like she was at the end of her physical limit. She even needed a moment to recognize him. When she did, her eyes widened, a smile brightening her face. She reached forward, parting her lips to say something, but before she could, her eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp, collapsing into the quick-reacting arms of Chat Noir.

Next >

[your-rose-highness]

Tell Me What Is Love (ch-5)

The breakfast was rather awkward. Hye Hee’s post- drunk brain was failing to comprehend the situation and Baekhyun only made small talk with Jane, very interested in her family whereabouts and her struggles of the past. Hye Hee scanned him the entire time, reading his every move. Baekhyun caught her eye a couple of times while he spoke to Jane, only to quickly look away, which made it look even more suspicious. 

“What was Baekhyun doing in my dingy apartment so early on a Monday morning?” she thought to herself.

The three of them did the dishes and chilled in the living area before Jane left to go for the shift. Baekhyun and hye hee stayed silent for a long time before Baekhyun asked, “why have you been drinking so much?”

“I’m a grown woman. I can drink when I want to.`` she sternly replied.

“That's not what I meant. And you know that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I can’t come to visit..?”

Hye Hee sat quietly. Baekhyun began twitching beside her when she looked over at him.

“The sofa is uncomfortable….”, he whimpered.

“I’m sorry it doesn’t suit your royal ass.”

“Why did you drink?”

“... I can't switch things because you don't like them…”

“Hye Hee, stop avoiding the question... Why did you..?”

“... plus why are you here anyway? Go run back to Taeyeon.”

“Excuse me? You were the one who suggested that I pretend harder..`` Baekhyun said, his voice rising.

“Pretend? When the hell…?”

“You know what, I'm leaving. You don't need me.”

“Yeah, run away Baek. That's what you did in the past. Do it again!”

“What did you say?”, Baekhyun looked at her furiously.

Hye Hee left the kitchen and walked to her bedroom, avoiding any confrontation. But Baekhyun wasn't having it.

“I left? Me? You never even tried to come back. That's how much I meant to you huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right!!! You never meant anything.i was happy to have gotten rid of you... Baekhyun this is my room, get out.”

“No.”

She exhaled slowly and began pushing him. Baekhyun didn't budge.

“I’m not leaving. Your place is my place.”

“Why are you doing this?!!” she exploded, even though Baekhyun was smiling.

It was like they were back in school again. He reached out for her hand, his eyes full of concern when he knew his best friend was hiding something really bad, “What’s wrong? Will you tell me now that you’re done yelling?”

Baekhyun was taller than her now, something she still wasn't used to yet. Her shoulders relaxed and she fought the urge to hug him. He was there for her, but he was someone else’s. The thought only made her want to cry but she tried with all her might not to.

“I miss you…”, she barely managed to say, her voice cracking.

Within an instant, his arms wrapped around her, his palm supporting her head, as he rested it against his chest.

“ I do too. Why do you think I'm here? You may be strong enough to avoid seeing me, but you know I'm not.”

He made her tea later, while both chatted about a job possibility in his company.

“Won't that be troublesome?”, She questioned.

“No… not really…” he trailed off, “at least better than someone we don't know. Teacher Sooman is more scared of sasaengs in the disguise of staff than anything else.”

“That's a good point.”

“Anyways, you have my recommendation. So there's a big chance you'll grab the job plus, your resume is a bonus.”, He stated, proud.

“It’s almost past 9 pm, don't you have to go home?”

“Well, I should… but Taeyeon and Sarang both are not home. So …. I'm free for dinner with you…”

“I didn't say I wanted to have dinner with you though,'' Hye hee responded cheekily.

Hye hee offered to make dinner this time, with Baekhyun as her assistant. They were discussing the amount of milk to add in their pasta sauce when he received a call. His expressions gave grim instantly, and he walked out to the balcony. Hye hee didn't want to trespass but she found herself a little too alert, trying to catch some words.

“..... really?... okay… yeah, you know… with the guys…. Don't wait up. Hmm.. okay.”

Hye hee wondered who it was on the other side. Taeyeon maybe? Baekhyun hung up and leaned against the wall for a few minutes before he left a deep sigh. 

Hye Hee quickly made her way back to the kitchen and innocently asked, “Who was that?”

“Taeyeon.”

Bingo.

“Oh? I thought you said she was not gonna be back till a few days?”

“Yeah, she decided to come back sooner I suppose. Anyway, let's have dinner and I’ll have to leave..”

“Yeah, sure.”

His one sentence had summarised their position in each other's lives. No matter how much they wished to spend time with each other, no matter how much they meant, Baekhyun was somebody's husband and his priority was never going to be Hye Hee. 

They quietly finished dinner and Baekhyun offered to wash the dishes with her, but by this point, Hye Hee didn't want to keep him away from his real family any longer.

After a few days, while Hye hee was shopping for some groceries, Baekhyun called her.

“Hello?”, She took his call, while also trying to put the pack of perilla leaves in her cart.

“Hye hee, do you have time tomorrow?”, his voice sounded urgent.

“Umm. For what??”

“The opening for staff at SM I told you about? I heard a few staff members discuss that it was the last day. What say? You want me to put you in?”

Hye Hee had a hard time saying yes, but a girl's gotta eat right?

“Yeah, okay. Fine. I'll come tomorrow for the interview.”

“Great! Alright, I'll text you the time okay? Okay, gotta go now, bye babe.” He hung up, excited like a puppy.

A faint smile played on Hye Hee's lips. 

"What?!", Jane exclaimed over the phone, making Hye Hee move her phone away from her ear. She had called her on the way to her interview the next day.

Reposing herself, Hye Hee continued, "So as I was saying, I have no confirmation about the job! can you calm down?"

"No! No! Okay, do this, once you get in, can you get a spot for me too?"

"Okay, we're going in circles! Look, I'll call you after my interview, my stop is here."

Hye Hee got off in a hurry, only 10 minutes before her expected time. 

She found the SM building with ease, no one could miss the tall building with a swarm of fans standing out in the hope of seeing their favorite celebrities. Hye Hee was guided to the staff entrance, on showing her interview mail on her phone.

The office was a beauty. The interiors were largely based on pastel shades and the minimal decoration gave it a very chic appearance. 

I could be working here... It's so pretty...

Snapping out of her daydream, a staff scurried over to her, leading her to the exceptionally large waiting area. She and 20 others sat nervously, waiting their turn through the huge glass doors.

After which seemed like an eternity, Hye Hee was finally called in. Taking a deep breath in, she opened the door to an exceptionally large room. Her legs wobbled a little as she took small but decent steps towards the large desk that had some of their artists and also Baekhyun’s manager. Just like her, he seemed taken aback by her presence but quickly reposed himself. Hye hee took the seat in front of the panel after she greeted them all.

She quickly recognized the handsome Yunho at the left of the table and couldn't help being starstruck by his beauty. 

“So, Song Hye Hee…”, boomed one of the member’s voices and also snapped her back to reality.

“You’ve quite an impressive resume and also an experience. I hope you know that the current job openings do not call for such expertise. Though we could use you for the international language department occasionally…”, he said, glancing at the other stern panelists with doubt.

“Oh yes, I know that the job doesn't entail or call for my previous work experience. I was looking to enhance my resume when I applied for this job..”

“Have you had any managerial responsibilities at the last post?”, suddenly enquired Yunho, looking straight into her eyes that could make even the non-guilty shiver.

Swinging between forming her sentences to answer and not being able to directly meet eyes with Yunho, “ Yes, I was head of the entertainment reporters team for a year…”

“Well… that’s not the kind of skills we’re looking for…”, mumbled the man on the far left, shuffling through the papers in front of him.

“Yes, sir. I have never said that I can't learn the work. My reporting job wasn't exactly my forte. But I learned the skills required for the job quickly after my supervisor helped me. I am more than sure that the responsibilities you bestow upon me will be dealt with to the end and with the utmost professionalism.” hye hee insisted. 

Hye hee’s demeanor vibrated through the room as the panelists thought over what she said. It was rare even for them to have an interviewee be that direct and to the point. The employees at the company were especially strict with their new recruitments due to past such incidents when they had toxic fans pose as recruits.

Yunho seemed to be quietly talking to Baekhyun’s manager, occasionally glancing at her direction. Hye Hee couldn't be sure if it was accidental with the questions being showered on her from either end. 

Boarding the bus closest to the company after filling a few more details, she headed to meet Jane for lunch at the closest ramen restaurant. Once again, thoughts clouded her mind and she found herself weighing the consequences if somehow they dug out her history with Baekhyun. Soon her phone lit up from a number she didn't recognize. She quickly dived to pick it up, expecting the company.

“Hello?”

“Song Hye Hee-ssi?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“I’m Jung Mu, Baekhyun’s manager. I was wondering if we could meet later today? I have some things to discuss with you.”

Hye Hee’s heart raced from the moment she heard him say his name. Baekhyun had mentioned his manager hyung's a million times before and continues to do so. Jung Mu had been a very quiet encouragement for him since the day he was assigned to manage EXO. he had helped him from many sticky situations and quite so even when he was out on dates with her. 

“Umm sure. There’s this tiny cafe on the 17th..”, she told him but was only cut short.

“Yes, I’m aware of it.”, Jung Mu quickly responded. “I’ve dropped him close to the cafe a million times.”

Hye hee an irritation in his voice that was hard to brush off. 

It reminded her of the rare occasions when baekhyun would get mad at her for nothing in particular. The sour memories clouded her, cueing the tears instantly. As she hung up, she contemplated if her working at SM would be the right choice after all. She was denying to herself that this step was taken to stay close to baekhyun and be able to see him every day, lying to herself that it was a big field break into the entertainment agency. 

But, the truth was, this would only further the distance more. Materialize it. The celebrity, married to an equally popular singer, and she, a struggling writer. Nothing but a layman. 

She hurried over to Minseok’s cafe soon, informing him about everything that had happened. He, being the good friend that he was, agreed in no time, however, did think that working at SM could cause trouble. Not just for her, but baekhyun as well.

“Why do I need to close the cafe for a staff?”

“Fans stalk the manager too, Oppa. I’m sorry. But this is the only safe space I know of.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head in disbelief. He soon handed her the pomegranate tea, her favorite for times when stressed. Minseok was usually very mindful of the people around him. The kind gesture made hye hee smile, he smiled at her and softly tapping her shoulder giving her courage to face what lay ahead.

She watched him walk into the low lit cafe soon, accompanied by someone she hadn't anticipated. The two dark figures approached her as they spotted the only person seated. 

“Song Hye Hee?”, asked Jung Mu extending his hand towards her. But Hye Hee’s eyes only followed the other tall man behind him. 

Suho.

 She couldn't think of him as an old friend at that moment. His expression was too grave to be addressed as the man who would smile so gently at her whenever they met.

When hye hee didn't respond at his words, Jung Mu just drew the chair opposite to her. Suho slid into the chair next to him, without meeting eyes with her the whole time. Hye hee silently tried to read into the situation, partially terrified. Minseok appeared minutes later to ask if anyone needed anything. Suho took one glance at him and said, “Lemonade, no sugar.”

“Can we trust him?”, Jung Mu whispered to hye hee after he left, briefly meeting eyes with hye hee, concerned.

“Minseok is a very close trusted friend of mine. You’re safe here.”

Minseok quickly hurried over with the drinks and left them to talk alone, shutting the small staff door. The room where she had met Baekhyun after all those years.

Sipping from his drink, after which his face scrunched in sourness, he quickly reposed himself.

“Hye Hee why were you at the agency today?”, his clear voice boomed in quiet space.

“Baekhyun said I could apply…”

He smirked with disbelief as she spoke, turning to face Hye hee, his eyes pierced into hers.

“Are you kidding me, Hye hee? After all, this while, don't you know? If someone ever finds out about the two of you, it won't just destroy him and you. It’ll take all of us down.”

He paused for a minute before whipping out his phone, showing her a twitter update.

Hye Hee picked up the phone bewildered.

“He’s already been spotted.”, Suho hissed. “You are VERY lucky that even though they are suspicious, the angle makes it hard to be sure. Isn't this your apartment, Hye Hee? Baekhyun refuses to handle this maturely, but Hye Hee, you? I expected better out of you. I cannot allow this. I’m sorry. I need you to minimize your contact with Baekhyun, and eventually, fade him out.”

He was right. What was she thinking? She was low key yearning for Baekhyun, expecting miracles where he would abandon his family for her. He wouldn't ever. Everything that he had built over the years was at stake and so was the entire group. 

“Fine.”, she whispered, a voice soft yet unshaken.

“Fine?” wondered Jung mu.

“I will fade away from his life, his memory. But I will need your help.”, said she, with eyes dark and resolute.

[nebula-starlight]

Sepsis (Pt. 14: Wellbeing)

“You okay Versi?” One of the healers also taking a break about the same time as her glanced at the shaking spirit with concern. 

She immediately passed off the question, ignoring the one who had asked it and gathered her meager strength to push herself off of the wall she’d been leaning against. Just as she told herself before she had come into work, everything was fine. She was fine. There was nothing wrong with her. No cause for alarm at the fact that she simply hadn’t been able to keep food down for a couple days and Nethreis was off doing some unknown work for The Council or, to be more accurate, for Magnus.

Realizing she still had to give some sort of answer to at least make the staring go away, Versi cleared her throat with a dry cough and nodded. “I’m fine. Just not hungry.” 

“It’s all that work with those Corrupt beasts huh? Working yourself to exhaustion over trying to cure something that’s gotten so mixed up in their very fibers that it can’t just be purged with a skillful little light burst.” One of the other, older healers commented, watching the two from across the room. 

“Shut it, Helese. Can’t you be concerned over someone else’s wellbeing for once in your life?” 

“Ladies….” Versi weakly protested, hearing the voices as if she was underwater or in another room completely. She blinked, trying her best to stay upright and focused when all she really wanted to do was go and curl up and sleep. 

“Versi honestly I’d go get checked out. You look pale, sweetie. And you can’t help anyone if you don’t help yourself first.” 

Again she ignored the assistance, staggering away from the wall and heading for the door. She needed to get back to work. That would put her mind off the feeling of the walls spinning and closing in on her. Everything was fine. She was fine. It was just a minor headache and stomach problems. She told herself if it got any worse that she’d go to her supervisors and ask to be dismissed early on account of feeling unwell… though then there would be one less healer to deal with the sudden influx of sickly patients who needed care. 

“Versi!” 

Why was she suddenly on the floor looking up into the distressed eyes of a trio of healers, two of which she had just seen in the break room of their medical wing? There was… something wrong with their shadows, wasn’t there? Too elongated and sharp and focused on… 

She shrieked, thrashing as a fellow healer struggled to bind her wings to her body as she writhed and twisted frantically. Why was it feeling like searing heat was being pressed onto her from all points of availability? Where was Nethreis? Why wasn’t he with her? What was going on? It was so bright… so painfully bright. That wasn’t the sun was it? No it couldn’t be the sun. They were indoors after all. Kept locked away from all others just to ensure they could perform at the peak of health at a moment’s notice. 

“Miss Versila, please. Calm down and answer just a few simple questions. We just need-” 

The poor newly registered doctor, who she hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, was quickly silenced from further questioning her as she headbutted him in her panicked attempt to get herself free of the restraints that just kept coming and kept getting tighter and constricting her airways. She couldn’t breathe… Each breath got stuck and she was trembling and shivering and begging the others to know where her mate was because he wasn’t there with her and she wanted him there. 

At what point she started coughing up bile she wasn’t sure but that only made the headache worse and more healers kept coming in to try to talk to her and understand what was going on. Why wouldn’t they leave her alone? She just wanted to be left alone. If they stopped questioning her maybe she wouldn’t be in such a state of blind panic that nothing made sense and words didn’t seem like words. 

“That’s quite enough for today. Let her rest.” The deep, yet sauve voice washed over the room and immediately all the noise and chatter and buzzing around her ceased as each surrounding her stepped back respectfully. 

Versi eagerly looked up with bleary eyes but instead of finding the beloved crimson irises of her lover, it was the head of The Council instead who greeted her anxiously searching gaze. She struggled to properly scowl at him, the once moderately tame headache now pounding through her skull and the other occupant in her head strangely quiet for surprisingly the first time in quite a while outside of interactions with Nethreis. 

“You,” she hissed, eyes flickering briefly with a faint greenish haze that nearly went unnoticed by the Councilmember. “Why are you here?” 

“Can I not frequent a place we have sought to cultivate? Furthermore, it is a crime to check in on those that are… special to certain ones in our collective group?” He approached the bed as Versi only now realized she was currently laying on her back in the same type of bedding as those used for the patients they normally saw as healers. The rest of the assembled group of now curious onlookers dispersed as Magnus continued, “And please do something about the uninvited guest listening in on us. It is rather rude of them I must say.” 

“How do you-?” 

He smiled, intimidating her with the intensely focused gaze on her whole being. “I’m aware of many dangers which plague our lands, most of which seem to revolve around you and that dear love of yours. Shame truly that he is so good at his job of being the Shield that the Capital needed.” 

“You seem to know quite a lot about my mate, Monsieur.” She returned the glare with one of her own, finally hearing the other growl deep in her skull. Not that it helped the headache that continued to persist or the sudden apathy that seemed to wrap its way around her limbs. 

“I have been meeting with him, yes. And now I’ve come to seek you out. You poor, miserable little creature who clings to his wings like an empathic leech. But I can help you, fix you even. I just need you to trust me.” He held out a clawed forepaw to her as though presenting his hand. “Because the task I have for you is one of great importance. You would usher in a new age of powerful spirits alongside the Shield.” 

“My beloved is not just some object!” She growled, trying to move and ultimately wincing in pain and curling up on herself as best she could. Her eyes flickered green once more but just as soon returned to being the warm yellow they usually were. 

“To me he is. Just like you are. Even being tainted doesn’t save you. Now just look into my eyes, deep into them if you will. I promise all your pain will fade away like it never even happened. In my domain, there is no suffering, Versila. And you have suffered much, my dear. Allow me to ease that strain… To bring you great joy unlike anything you have ever experienced before.” 

She tried to ignore the urge to comply with his request but found she couldn’t, her gaze fixing on his as the red serpentine eyes glowed. After a few seconds of the extended look, they seemed to shift and turn a bright fluorescent green that sent a shiver of dread down her spine but also left her feeling strangely comforted. Versi felt herself relax, the tension fading from her body except for a small spot near her abdomen. 

“Wake my agent of chaos. For the time draws nigh for the final test and you the ultimate chess piece.”

[asocier]

( private verse: your name is ) — ?  

          “thank you so much for your time. your input will really help us in our research. enjoy the rest of your day.” her tone is polite as she gives the older man and his wife a bow, a habit of hers that had formed over years of having to pay respects to elders in her own family. being welcomed into a stranger’s home still wasn’t something she had grown used to despite assisting in various interviews over the past few months, her mannerisms still a bit stiff and cautious, but she was grateful that she didn’t have to conduct these interviews alone. 

             stepping to the side to allow her senior to take over the conversation, she listens as he converses with the married couple in a tongue she had yet grown fluent in. picking out words here and there, she assumes he too was expressing his gratitude in being allowed into their home for the sake of his research, which he emphasized was a step towards a larger goal that could help hundreds, even thousands. 

          seeing it fit to allow the trio privacy to speak of other matters that didn’t regard her, she begins to pack up their belongings: pads of paper, recording equipment, and questionnaires all eventually tucked away in both her backpack and her senior’s. as she tended to the takedown of their informal recording set up, she catches sight of various pictures displayed in the living room they had spent all of their time in that afternoon. photographs of the couple at a younger age, their children, their grandchildren, and others she assumed were friends, extended family, and co-workers all told a different story, but through her eyes, one story seemed to have struck out to her the most. 

          miasma [ mahy-az-muh, mee- ] noun. a general term used to describe the physiological and psychological repercussions of ichor exposure. 

          rot. a foul word she’s grown to despise after seeing how society treated those suffering from ichor poisoning like outcasts as if it was their fault for their miasma, as if it was their fault for letting themselves waste away. 

          she finds herself inadvertently taking note of the progression of the older man’s miasmas, which, she had learned, not only were most likely due to his time working in the ichor mines but also his time in the topaxi advancement forces. ironic, she thought, how a medical device intended to heal instead harmed those who depended on the device to survive in the field. it was a story that had hit far too close to home for her, and before her thoughts could spiral even further, she hears the voice of her senior call to her.

          “need some help?” a smile accompanied that question, and he gestures to the recording device she had yet to put away properly. “oh!” she starts before shaking her heard and chuckling bashfully. “sorry, sorry. i’ll be done in a moment.” 

———

           the car ride back to the university district was a relatively quiet one aside from the faint music that was playing from the radio. with her gaze fixed out the window, she could feel herself begin to feel drowsy as she watched the city pass her by. she eventually lets her head rest against the window, and eyes flutter to a close. she struggled to fall asleep, however, knowing that she still had laundry to tend to, dinner to prepare, and assignments to complete. not to mention, she was in charge of transcribing the interview they had just conducted along with the others from earlier that day. there was always too many things to do, but there was certainly never enough time.

          as if he had read her mind, her supervisor asks, “any plans for the night?” in response, she merely groans before lifting her head off the window, eyes opening to look over at the other. “i wish they were fun plans.” she replies, the student sitting back up in her seat as she rubbed her eyes. “today was a long day.” 

          “it was. it would certainly have been much longer without your help, though. thank you for coming out today.” 

          “of course. i thought it’d be good practice to tag along, anyway.”

          “the last couple we interviewed seemed to be impressed with your conduct. they’re quite excited to see how our research comes along in the near future.”

          “really? that’s good to hear. they seemed very eager to help.”

          her supervisor nods then, his attention returning to the road. a comfortable silence eventually settles upon them, but before it stretched for too long, he starts once more and asks, “how is your father?” 

          she knew the question came from a place of genuine curiosity and concern, a question with good intentions. still, she found herself hesitant to answer, hesitant to reveal more about her personal life in that very moment. perhaps it was the fact that she had seen her father and uncles in that older man they had interviewed. perhaps it was because she suddenly became greatly aware of how ill and how weak her father had grown over the years after seeing that older man go down the same path, his strength fading away with each new picture that was displayed in that living room. 

          “he’s hanging in there. my mother told me he started a new treatment, so hopefully that helps with things.” 

          “that’s good to hear.” a beat, “and how are you feeling? i hope that last interview didn’t upset you.”

          ah, how like him to be so observant of things before she even voiced them. she should have known better than to expect anything else. “i’m fine. thank you for asking.”

          he gives her another nod, and she assumed he must have taken her answer at face value, for he didn’t ask anything else for the rest of the car ride. it wasn’t long before she found themselves parked out in front of her apartment complex, and reaching for her backpack that was resting between her feet in the passenger seat, she wishes her supervisor a good night before letting herself out of the car. 

          walking a familiar route to her apartment, she slings her backpack over her shoulder in a way that allowed her to reach for and unzip a front pocket that kept her keys. she still hadn’t decided what she wanted to do first upon her arrival at home, and as she unlocked her door and let herself in, she exhaled a long breath before setting her backpack down on her couch. almost immediately, she was greeted by her companion, a cat she had cared for since she began her time at the university. crouching down to its level, she returned the greeting by scratching underneath its chin, gentle coos leaving her as she eventually stroked its head. 

           glancing at the time, she thought about how much time it’d take for her to get everything she needed to do done before it was too late ( or rather, before exhaustion truly kicked ). chewing at her bottom lip, she glances back at her feline companion, who was rubbing up against her leg and purring softly. “you think it’s bath time?” the question seemed to have piqued the creatures’ interest, and it followed her as she made her way to the bathroom. 

          perched on the edge of the bathtub while she turned on the water, her cat watched intently as she closed the drain of the tub, a hand testing the temperature of the water before she poured a capful of bubble bath under the faucet. she then reaches for a box of matches and lights a candle that was sitting on the counter by the sink before waving her hand to extinguish the flame. “don’t peek.” a playful remark to her cat as she began to undress, her work clothes tossed into a hamper before she allowed herself to step foot into the tub, her back resting against the edge of it as she sunk lower into the water. almost immediately, she felt more at ease, the warmth of the water helping her release some of the tensions she held in her body.

           responsibility could wait for a little bit.

          your name is leah nguyen. in topaxi, you play the research student. 

@miraruinada​

[forgadgetsandgizmos]

I (Gladly) Shoulder Every Burden

Written for Day 3 of Alex Manes Week 2020 | Prompt: "This time, I'm in charge" or Legacy

Read here on AO3

Alex grabbed his leather jacket off its place on the back of the desk chair in his room and shoved it into the large duffel he was slowly filling with essentials.

An hour ago, someone far beyond his own rank of Captain called using phrases like ‘missing paperwork,’ ‘essential,’ and ‘on-site assistance required immediately’ that triggered half a dozen alarms in his head. He’d been off the phone barely ten minutes before he’d received an email with a plane ticket from Roswell International Air Center, departure time in five hours. He had barely over three of those hours left and considering the hell that was airport security, (even in a small airport like Roswell’s with practically zero direct flights, especially since his leg prevented him from passing through metal detectors), that’s barely enough time for him to finish packing and make the half-hour drive to the converted old air base.

Honestly, it was just bad luck they called the day after he finally unpacked his bag from the weeklong Air Force recruitment trip he never actually took. He’d wasted that first hour doing laundry just so he’d have clothes that weren’t fatigues.

He was scrambling to make sure he’d packed all the little thing scattered across the house when a draft rushed in from his front door.

“Alex?” Michael’s voice drifted towards him. “You here? Sorry for stopping by like this. You weren’t answering your phone and you didn’t show up to the Crashdown.”

Alex glanced at the time and winced. According to his watch, he’d been suppose to meet Michael for breakfast an hour and a half ago.

“Back here,” he called out.

Michael’s footsteps echoed as he walked down the hall towards Alex’s room.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was past ten. I got a phone call a couple hours ago that threw me off,” Alex started to explain as soon as Michael came into view, apology etched on his face.

Michael didn’t speak, instead running his eyes over Alex and the full bag in his hand. “What are you packing for?”

Alex ignored Michael’s imploring gaze on his back as he moved around the room. “Ah ha!” He held up a grey t-shirt triumphantly before adding it to his duffel.

Standing in the doorway, Michael crossed his arms. “You didn’t answer my question. Where are you going that you need your favorite sleep shirt?”

Alex lifted his chin hesitantly. “I’m needed at Griffiss. I fly out in a couple hours.”

“Griffiss? The Air Force base in New York?”

“I shouldn’t be gone too long. A couple days, maybe a week at most.”

Michael’s face scrunched up in confusion. “You’re stationed here permanently. Why do they need you there?”

Alex avoided his eyes and answered. “I’m reporting to the supervisor who managed Project Shepherd in the seventies before it shut down. With my dad dead, no one filled the paperwork that kept anyone from looking too closely at the funds he had misdirected. I’m giving a deposition about my involvement in shutting it down.”

“What?” Michael gripped the edge of the door frame. “Alex, you can’t get involved with this again, it’s too dangerous,” he demanded, his tone incredulous.

Alex flushed and shot him a frustrated look. “It’ll be fine. As far as they’re concerned, I did them a favor by dismantling the project. They just have to hear from me in person and the General will only be in New York until Friday.”

Michael growled and slammed his palm against the frame. A loud bang rang through the room. “Alex!”

Alex yanked the zipper on his duffel shut and finally looked at Michael. His knuckles were so pale that they blended right into the white framing he was gripping, and his arm trembled faintly from the pressure. Alex shrugged his shoulder half-heartedly, as if to ask what he was supposed to do about it.

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Even if you’re clear, we’re not. Max, Isobel, and I had files in your dad’s system, you’re going to just hand us over to them.”

“Of course not,” Alex scowled. “How could you even think that? I took care of it. The system Dad was using was so old, it didn’t back-up to a satellite. Those profiles never left that bunker and I wiped any trace of them from there. The only people who know about the three of you are my dad and Flint. And I don’t think my dad will be saying anything from six feet under, do you?”

“What about Flint?”

“Not in charge and he doesn’t have any proof. Besides, I outrank him.” Alex turned to pull his crutch from its spot hiding at the base of the bed and fastened the metal arm rest and handle to the straps of the bag for transport.

Michael was shaking his head in disbelief when he turned his attention back to him. “You don’t know that,” he said, throwing his hands up. “You can’t guarantee that if you go there, they won’t find out about us and throw us in some dark hole before you can blink.”

“Yes, I do,” Alex burst out. He bit back his next words at Michael’s shocked face and lowered his voice. “Yes, I do,” he repeated softer. He took a step closer to Michael’s tense form. “Michael, my father is dead. Flint has no jurisdiction in the Air Force. Even if neither of those things were true, I still outrank them both. No one has any reason to distrust me and there’s an evidence pile a mile high of Jesse Manes’ misconduct.”

Michael jerked when Alex stepped closer again, as if he was going to argue again but stopped himself at the last second. He sniffed loudly, his nose scrunching up for a split second in a familiar way. It brought the beginnings of a smile to Alex’s face.

“I’m sorry I missed breakfast,” Alex offered, keeping his tone light.

“You were gonna leave without telling me,” Michael said accusingly. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I would’ve called, I promise,” Alex said softly. “The General calling took me by surprise and my mind flew straight to laundry and packing. I didn’t mean to flake out on you.”

Michael fidgeted in front of him, moving his arms again to hang limply by his side before stuffing his fingers into the pockets. The action pushing his shoulders up around his neck. Alex thought he looked how he used to when they were seventeen, so unsure every time they spoke to one another. Wondering if this would be the last time. If he’d be rejected the next or laughed out, told it was all a joke.

Alex placed his hands on either side of Michael’s face, letting them trace the faint stubble along his jaw and run up through his curly, untamed hair. Michael’s eyes fluttered as he leaned into his touch.

“I’m not leaving leaving, okay? I’ll be back before you can blink,” Alex assured him, repeating his own words. “This is different.”

“How?” Michael demanded. His voice cracked, betraying the lack of anger or force behind the word.

Alex grinned slyly. “This time, I’m in charge.”

Michael huffed and knocked Alex’s shoulder with his. “Nerd.”

His grin grew wider. “That’s me,” he said cheerfully.

He got a laugh from Michael at his expression and laughed with him. He glanced at his watch showing his time dwindling with every tick forward. “I gotta go,” he said, trying to somehow convey to Michael in those three words every thought racing threw his head. That he didn’t want to leave but this was more than work, it was about protecting Michael and his family. He had promised to protect him. No chance was he going to make a liar out of himself because of plane ride.

Michael stiffened but nodded his understanding. “Call me when you get there? And when you’re back?” he asked, voice low.

“Of course.” Alex grabbed his now packed bag and walked into the kitchen, snatching his keys off a small tray on the counter. He arched an eyebrow at Michael when he didn’t move. “You staying?”

Michael had the sense to look sheepish when he followed out him. He lingered nearby as Alex locked the front door and loaded his bag into the backseat of his car.

Before Alex could wrench the door open, he was engulfed by warm arms on his back and a chest pressed against his own. Alex wrapped his around Michael, letting Michael bury his face in the crock of his neck. They held each other for what felt like hours but was probably no more than thirty seconds before Michael let out a shaky breath and pulled back.

Michael gave him a small smile, sadder than he would have like, and nodded for Alex to get into the car. Alex tried not to let Michael’s seeming lack of confidence affect him (it wasn’t Alex Michael was nervous about, he told himself, it was Project Shepherd and his siblings’ safety) and started the car.

He glanced back where Michael stood, still watching, in his rearview mirror as he shifted the gear into drive and pulled away. The figure didn’t move, eventually fading from view as Alex drove further from his home and toward the airport.

Michael may not agree, but this was the best thing he could do for him. At this point, him not going would only draw unwanted attention. He was still telling himself that when he parked his car in the overnight parking lot of the airport.

He promised to protect Michael, and this is what that looked like. This just happened to be a plane ride with two layovers and a shitty New York hotel room. Considering their lives, so often shrouded in mysteries and alien murderers, it was a small price to pay.

See it here on ao3

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/71793039

Chapter 49

Nick accepted the sandwich and took a bite. He indeed found it was a pity that he had to put the rags back on, because Arthur had so many worries about it. But at least he could hold him close and caress his bare skin with his finger. Arthur showed his approval by cuddling into Nick's shoulder and from time to time dared to do the same. It was fascinating how the tall Downer had turned back into his shy self after a moment of self-awareness. Nick was very curious about how far he would get. His personality seemed to break out more and more. He trusted Nick, and that made him optimistic. And still, he didn't want to go too far yet since he didn't want to scare him and ruin the progress. It was also the reason why he had given in.

Perhaps I've changed too, perhaps I've become more tame, he wondered while he held his devoted Downer in his arms. Actually he didn't want to call him a Downer, because it was a cuss. But he didn't feel any anger when he thought at that word. If all Downers were like Arthur, they were downright charming. Nick stroked Arthur's cheek and kissed his forehead. No, he then thought. If I changed I wouldn't be here. He sighed.

"Does the garden make you pondering, too?", Arthur asked quietly. "Yeah...I guess so....but...I don't know if it's the garden..." "Are you a thoughtful person, Nick?" "Uh...well...I wasn't for a very long time...", Nick began, feeling a bit blindsided. What did he know about his character from the past, from before Joy? "I'm learning to think again." "And how does it feel for you?", Arthur asked with honest concern. "Er...sometimes it's unpleasant and sometimes I'm glad about it." "I feel the same." Arthur looked up to the clouds that slowly went by. Nick wondered if that was true. "You...you too? Are you sure?" "Absolutely. Thinking isn't always pleasant. Sometimes I wish I could turn my head off." "Well...you can. It's actually easy. Why don't you do it?" "Because I have to live with it", Arthur said so bitterly that Nick felt pity for him. "Who told you that?"

Arthur closed his eyes. For a while he pressed his head into the crook of Nick's neck, as if he was seeking comfort, then he said: "Whatever is done is done...and taking Joy doesn't change anything. We can't turn back time and make everything better. We always have to live with what we've done...". Arthur fell silent, feeling that he was getting way too depressed. He patted Nick's arm, to distract him if necessary. Now Nick stared into the clouds. Arthur had struck a nerve. He was so right. But exactly that had been the reason why they were taking Joy. "Nick? Are you okay?". Arthur sounded worried. Nick only nodded quietly.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to ruin the mood...Must be the garden after all." Nick looked around. "How could something as beautiful as this ruin our mood?" He indeed had good memories of gardens and parks. It gave him just the right feeling, with nature around him and the touch of melancholy. He grabbed his guitar. Arthur left his shoulder and lay down close beside him, with a hand supporting his head. Nick began to play a melody, testing how the sound melted into his surroundings. Some things stay the same after all.

Arthur listened with a throbbing heart. He had been nervous about this moment all the time, afraid of his own reaction. It reminded him of how he found Nick in the tunnel, completely stoned and out of his mind. He had been afraid that this would happen again. He didn't want to hurt Nick. But now that he heard Nick play, not defaced by drugs, he was overwhelmed. He had always thought that all these popstars would be lost without their expensive equipment. Nick definitely wasn't. His pure voice, not forged by a studio or loudspeakers, moved him. He now understood why his fans loved him, why they were screaming like crazy at his concerts. They would do everything to be here but instead he was here, a worthless Downer, and Nick played only for him. When the song was over, Arthur was glad that he was stilll wearing his mask and Nick couldn't see how red he was. Still, he put his hands on his cheeks.

"What's wrong?", Nick asked. "I'm...I'm just getting red", he admitted. "Really? I didn't sing anything naughty", Nick chuckled. "No, but I know now, why your fans are screaming when they see you...and why they throw their underwear at you." Nick laughed, and Arthur couldn't help joining him. "You're not throwing anything", he then said and lifted an eyebrow. Arthur gulped. "I...I don't think that's my style." "Why not? Just do it! Go crazy, man!" Arthur winded. "I'm already on the brink. Play another song, please, Nicky." Nick chuckled again. "You're a grateful audience." He began another song that insidiously called on him to dance. Arthur imagined dancing with Nick, while he listened to the music and constrained himself to sit still on the blanket.

Then he jumped up anyway because he saw Wastrels coming at them. "Oh no", he squeezed out. Of course it had to happen. And how naive he was. Of course the music would summon them and they would wonder why they were so happy, they would become suspicious and eventually attack... Nick stopped singing when he noticed that Arthur hadn't jumped up because of him but instead was staring  into the distance with alarm. "Get behind me", he said and already stepped forward to hide Nick, who now also saw the Wastrels. "Hello there", Arthur approached them, hoping he could come out of this cheaply. "We're just trying to forget the past for a while, there's nothing bad about it, right?" "Play on", one of the Wastrels shouted. A woman swooned: "You sound just as Nick Lightbearer! Oh, how much I miss him! They never play him through the speakers and all the records here are broken." "Play a song for us", also the others begged.

Being pressed so nicely, Nick couldn't say no. He now sang with more enthusiasm, flattered that his audience had so spontaneously increased. It was something else that hadn't changed, and it made him very happy that it still worked. He felt a little like in the old days, when he had been simply making music for the fun of it, and he felt vindicated that not all his charm was gone. That he could find back to his old self and also that he really had this kind of impact on others and didn't just make it up over time. Seeing the Wastrels dance and laugh, he noted that they weren't so different from the Wellies. This could be a nice place just like every other. He should perform here if they missed him so much.

Arthur instead wasn't very happy with this situation. Of course he was happy for Nick, who was even a star in the Garden District, but now their beautiful privacy was gone. Everyone was dancing except Arthur, who was feeling like an outsider. Then a woman danced past him and grabbed his arm. "Come on, get a move on!" Arthur protested, but he was pulled along by the slaphappy Wastrelette. Her dance style was quite peculiar. He was struggling to hold her pace that was completely independent of the rhythm, but she had the time of her life. "So, what did you do in the Parade, tall guy?", she asked along the way. Arthur cut out asking what gave her the idea. By now he knew that his suit was giving it all away.

"I was an editor in the Department of Archives...mostly reading papers and cencoring articles", he said bluntly. He found it was better to appear casual. "Ohh", she blew a whistle. "I bet it was a very important job, right? Prestige and everything." "Er...rather not", Arthur said. "I wish I didn't do it." "Heh. You're not the only one who has regrets", she replied. "Honestly, I was a supervisor at the bridge to Hamlyn Village, judging who gets in and and who stays out. We had that stupid quiz 'Oh, behave!" I don't remember anyone passing it on my shift." Arthur was about to answer when their conversation was interrupted. "Oh, oh", the woman said and stopped dancing.

"Well, well, well, looks like someone's having fun out here!" A group of moody Headboys showed up. "Do you have a licence for this concert? No? So we're afraid we have to put an end to this!" The Wastrels cried and ran. They didn't have the power to fight shovels and bats. Still, Arthur found it would've been nice to stay and help. Nick stared at the aggressive gang, confused, pressing his guitar to his chest.

"Nick, run!", Arthur yelled, setting himself into motion. Nick jumped up and ran, but a Headboy caught him. He however didn't count on Nick's resistance. The guitar hit him hard in the face. Cussing, he let Nick go. Arthur promptly jumped at him, choked him with one arm and wrenched the bat from him. When the Headboy finally lay on the ground, Arthur wasn't helpless anymore. But four against one was still an unfair fight. Fortunately, he still had enough nails in his pocket, wich he quickly tossed at the attackers. The first one was so distracted with pain that Arthur could strike him down with no problems. Nick quickly understood this concept and insisted on taking the next out by himself. "This is giving a new meaning to beat music", he chuckled.

The other two were already warned and avoided the nails. One of them swung at Arthur who wished he had brought his electric truncheon. Blocking an attack and shoving the headboy away, he could cop a look at Nick who was hard pressed by the other one. The rockstar definitely had the weaker weapon. His tactic was merely avoiding the blows, running away and trying to bring him down from behind. But he was getting out of breath. Arthur hurried to get rid of his importunate enemy. Finally, he managed to hit his carotid, what made him faint. With horror he saw that his lover was lying on the ground, with the headboy above him, already taking a swing.

"Nick!", he yelled. He distracted the headboy for a second. Arthur quickly wrapped his arms around him and choked him while he fell into the grass with him. Nick got up and took the bat the headboy had lost, in case Arthur needed help. The headboy struggled. He wasn't as easily choked as the others. Arthur and Nick exchanged glances for a second, then Arthur nodded, let the Headboy go and Nick at the same time gave him a blow with the bat. The headboy fell unconscious. Arthur checked on him, then Nick helped him up. "Are you hurt?", Arthur promptly asked.

Nick palpated his head. "Not badly...only a bump...My baby got it worse." He showed the guitar, that didn't only have a few more scratches but was also almost broken in half. "I'm sorry, looks like it's beyond repair now." Nick patted it. "Perhaps Mr. Bates can fix it...I mean Mrs. Bates." Arthur didn't seem to notice the mistake. He had most likely never visited the shop. "It's not so bad", he said louder. "And it was kinda fun." Arthur looked rather down-hearted. "I'm sorry...I should've been more careful. After all, I know this place." "Who were these blokes?" "Headboys...they rule this place, or that's what they think. They put me in their arena once and called me "King of the Parade", I told you." "Oh, I remember!", Nick blurted out. "Nasty fellows, they don't fit in with the garden at all." "Yeah...they like to attack helpless Wastrels. They're not very brave. But they're still dangerous. I thought we're safe here. I'm sorry."

"Hey, Arthur", Nick put a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing bad happened. We had fun, everyone had a random party, it was great! I want to do that again!" He squeezed his shoulder happily. Arthur found his smile back. He hugged Nick in silence. "I reckon you have to go home soon...", he then whispered. "You're right. But I had a wonderful time."

They strolled back to the hatch. Arthur regretted he had to let Nick go again. He was the only bright spot in this screwed up life full of lies. They put their proper clothes back on and kissed each other goodbye, rolling around in their bed for one last time, then Nick left with his destroyed guitar. Arthur remained sitting on the bed for a long time until he left.

Meanwhile Nick actually planned to have his guitar repaired. He didn't like to give up one of his babies, and also his mistake had reminded him of something he had repressed all the time, and also forgotten because he had had no reason to come to the shop. But now he found it was time to face the truth, even if it was very unpleasant. In addition he wanted to know if the shop still existed. It looked normal from outside, he stated. It was hard to believe that it would never be the same again. When he entered, the bell rang, and he halfway expected Mr. Bates to stand behind the counter and to find out that it was all a misunderstanding. But the counter was empty. It was also clean. The bobbies must have removed all traces of the crime scene. In general the shop was very clean and tidied up, as if it was still in business.

"Hello? Anyone there? You have a customer!" Nick put his guitar on the counter and waited. "I beg your pardon", he heard a familiar voice say. "I've been packing goods. It's not the same anymore since...". The woman that came out of the storage room eyed her customer and froze. "Nick!" Her face lit up. "Oh, Nicky, you're back!" She ran around the counter and fell into his arms. "Hey, baby...", he whispered. "Are you okay?" "It's hard..doing this all alone...some people only come by to ask their stupid questions. They're stealing my time as if I had nothing else to do", blustered out of her mouth. Then she put on a smile again. "But I'll make it." She gave Nick an adoring look. "I'm sorry for what happened...", Nick said quietly. "You don't have to be sorry for anything." She kissed him again. "You keep the shop?" "U-huh", she nodded. Nick smiled. "You're a tough girl." "I've got you to cheer me up", she purred. "That's the spirit", he said giving her finger guns. "It's so awesome! That you're back with your band, that everyone remembers how great you are! I know you're busy now, but please pay me a visit, will you?" "Oh...uh...sure...as soon as I can..."

Nick pointed at the counter to change the subject. "You think you can fix that?" Kitty viewed the damage. "Oh, Nicky, you're a bad boy." She giggled. "I could do it, but I'm afraid it'll never look like new again." "I don't mind. I like the scratches, they are memories...I mean, good ones. I just don't want it to fall apart." "Okay." She wrote something on a paper and handed it to Nick. "This is the verification that you turned it in. I need your signature there." Nick drew a big lettering with hearts as tittles. Kitty giggled and admired it. She left the counter again to hug and kiss her idol. "I miss you". "I'll come back", Nick said, carefully winding out of her grip. "I send you a message when it's done", she said. "Okay..."

Kitty blew him multiple kisses while he left and he gave her more finger guns and a wink. Then he was out, happy that the shop wasn't closed. Another walk through the tunnels later he was finally back home.

[mastersvisualjournalmclain]

Supervision 3/4  & The Varnished Truth

In my discussion of my supervision sessions here, I try to highlight one or two major themes, points, or ideas that really stood out for me and that I need to pay attention to, and more importantly, what that means to me, rather than provide a blow-by-blow recap of what happened or what was said.

Last week, my supervisor and I discussed the importance and quality of the wet plate portraits I’d done back in June and I showed her some digital test shots of still life work that I’d done and was emulating wet plate with these pictures to get a feel for how these might turn out. When she pressed me about why I wasn’t doing more with the portraits (which I really find satisfying for a variety of reasons), I said because I could actually do digital work in my flat right now, not rely on work that hadn’t been done in the course of this calendar term. This led us into a discussion of the appropriateness of using work that you’ve done previously and incorporating it into a work or project that is currently under production. I came to the realisation that this constraint (that word, again) that I was placing on myself, rather than any prescription from anywhere else, and most importantly, that it was really limiting and unhelpful in the progress of my work. This realisation, and the sense of release and relief that came with the understanding that I was imposing something on myself no one else was that was unrealistic, gave me a greater sense of freedom to explore the older work.

A second, more pragmatic topic emerged when we started talking about permission to utilise people’s images in the project. I am quite conscious of the ethical and legal dimensions of using someone’s image in my work. Having worked in high schools, I assiduously avoided taking pictures for my own use that even *might* include a student in the frame because I don’t want to deal with the hassles, and, to be honest, the appearance of taking a picture of a minor, especially if it might appear in a social media context. That said, when I’ve been working on wet plates, I’ve been working primarily in an open studio situation, where lots of artists have mini studios in a large building, and when I’m going to do a plate, I run around and find people willing to sit in front of the camera for about 5 minutes while I create the plate and shoot it. If someone doesn’t want to sit and have their picture taken, that’s usually the moment where they opt out. But I was resigned and dreading that now I would have to go back and ask for permission and potentially ask them to sign model releases to use the work in a public setting. But that’s the right thing to do. I was most concerned about an image I did of another artist’s kids (with her permission and their cooperation) which I feel is a very strong and really ‘works’ that I want to use might have to not be used if I couldn’t get permission from the parent and the kids themselves. Luckily, after sending out emails and texts, I’ve received positive responses for use from all the subjects bar one, whom I think I simply haven’t heard from yet because he doesn’t check email very often. But I do acknowledge not merely a legal obligation, but a moral one, to use people’s images with their approval, since we are making something together.

This week we discussed the contrast of old and new technologies on the work I’m doing. The portrait plates I’ve shot have been done with a ‘modern’ camera (an Intrepid MK IV Black Edition) which is made of 3D printed parts, but really, in wet plate photography, the camera is itself merely a lightproof box used to hold: A) the plate and B) the lens. These two elements are where the image really happens. The lenses I use are both quite old. One is a 300mm Ross Extra Rapid f/5.6 originally meant for 9x7 work. The other is an older, unmarked, likely French made lenses that is stamped by City Sales and Exchange of London. It’s a Petzval 150mm f/4 lens. It was possibly made as a magic lantern lens and repurposed as a camera lens by CS&E, who were notorious for doing just that. Both lenses have unique character to me; does is this ‘character’ objective, or is it because I know how old they are that I feel there is a unique feel to the images they produce? This is a question for philosophers to thrash out. Which they’ve been unable to do, convincingly. However, I do know that I love the images that they help to create and they both deliver images that are quite sharp in some areas with lovely bokeh in others. There is, I feel a warmth and a depth to them where the crystalline images I get with my mirrorless camera and its sharp autofocus feel a touch sterile. I am also keenly aware that I am using an historical object at a historical moment in human history. All of these portraits have been created using an old technique with mostly old equipment to capture people at an important moment in human history. And, while I’m not willing to ditch digital and go exclusively wet plate/film, there is a quality to the portraits that, no matter how much digital sorcery I use, can re-create the bespoke, one of a kind plate emerges from the tray of my wet plate rinses.

Another point that we discussed this week was two-fold. I have begun writing on my images. Wet plates are not pristine pieces. They are, like all people, flawed and imperfect. This is not a bad thing, to my thinking. I was working with a master furniture maker a couple of years ago on a project. He told me that so few people make a piece of furniture by hand any more that there are people who go out and look for flaws in pieces because imperfection is the only sure guarantee that the piece was made by hand. I like creating things. I like that the things I create are unique and one of a king. Yes, they can be scanned or photographed and those images can be reproduced, but the image itself, the sensory, tactile, olfactory image is alone in its existence. One of the things I love about wet plates, which, sadly will be missing from reviews is their smell. The final step of creating a plate is varnishing it. (See images below) Sandarac gum resin is mixed with lavender oil and alcohol to create this varnish. Even after drying, the aluminium plates retain a faint lavender smell which I find powerful in surfacing the memory of creating the plate. I would have dearly loved to be sitting in studio for a Review and pass around the small plates for people to see, touch and smell. Alas, another thing that 2020 has robbed us of.

The second element my supervisor and I discussed this week was my addition of text, in my own hand writing, to the digital images I am producing. I recently listened to an interview with Duane Michals and when I began researching him, I was struck by his incorporation of text into his images. I was also reflecting about a lecture from Critical Frameworks last semester that was a discussion of words as art. I wanted to place myself in the character of the people the images and get them to speak something to us as witnesses to COVID-19 and its myriad changes to our lives. I wanted these words to be live the images themselves, a little messy and imperfect. At the same time, I didn’t want to fill up the frame with words. I wanted to pair words up with the images that left things open to the viewers understanding and interpretation of the image. Remembering the lesson I learned last term, I didn’t want to fill up the borders of the images, which are being displayed digitally in November, and I wanted to give the viewer credit for being able to fill in the images with their own meanings about the correspondence between text and image. Showing her a few examples, my supervisor was quite supportive of the direction I’ve taken these images.

Finally, here are some pictures of me in the final step of making a wet plate, varnishing. The collodion emulsion on the plates needs to be durably sealed or else it will scratch and peel over time. The coat of varnish applied to them makes them quite durable. Tintypes from the 1850s on are still found today in attics, basements, etc after being stored in relatively abusive conditions that would have destroyed other photographic media and they’re little worse for wear. 

(Many thanks to Alex Pomnikow for taking these images while I was working.)

[leftpress]

Bernie Sanders | July 24th 2019 | Socialist Project

Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) and Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) led a group of 13 members of Congress urging the US Department of Labor to immediately investigate chronic violations of workplace safety at all Amazon warehouses, “owing to the breadth and severity of past violations as well as mounting public revelations of brutal and hazardous working conditions.”

Their letter to the Department of Labor’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) comes in the wake of a Monday work stoppage by Amazon warehouse workers in Minnesota to protest unfair and unsafe conditions in the midst of Prime Day, Amazon’s biggest sales event of the year.

Dear Deputy Assistant Secretary Loren Sweatt:

We are writing to request that the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) launch a comprehensive investigation into the workplace conditions at the warehouses from which Amazon.com, Inc. and its subsidiaries and contractors operate.

In the year 2019, working conditions in the United States of America should be the best and the safest in the world. Unfortunately, according to numerous media reports, and reflected in previous fines levied by your agency, that is not the case at Amazon. In fact, the working conditions at this highly profitable company have been described as “unsafe,” “bruising,” “grueling,” “a recipe for disaster,” putting “workers and communities at risk,” and “intrusive.”1

Work Stoppage on Prime Day

Just this week, Amazon workers in Minnesota organized a work stoppage in order to protest their employer’s unfair, unsafe practices. Workers at the Minneapolis facility, and all of Amazon’s warehouses across the country (referred to by the company as “fulfillment centers” and “sortation centers”) undertake work that is physically demanding, often requiring walking more than 10 miles in a single shift and repeatedly lifting heavy objects, all while being afforded minimal rest breaks, not being allowed to sit, and being forced to work “mandatory overtime” shifts.2

This work environment creates a high risk of physical injuries, a risk increased by Amazon’s intentional disregard for the health and safety of their employees. Last year the National Council for Occupational Safety and Health (NCOSH) put Amazon on its “dirty dozen” list of most dangerous places to work in the United States, referencing Amazon’s “disturbing pattern of preventable deaths,” which includes “seven workers killed at Amazon warehouses since 2013 – including three workers within five weeks in 2017.”

Earlier this year, Mother Jones published an investigation showing that “hazards on the warehouse floor can launch months and years of medical injury that ultimately result in worker disability.” When workplace injuries occur, Amazon has repeatedly ignored their severity. Last year The Guardian published an investigation that revealed “numerous cases of Amazon workers suffering from workplace accidents or injuries in its gigantic warehouse system and being treated in ways that leave them homeless, unable to work or bereft of income.”

Desperate Working Conditions

Hundreds of stories shared with our offices paint a picture of desperation and a corporate employer with little regard for the health of its employees. We heard from an Amazon worker who described the warehouse as a “21st century sweatshop.” Workers shared stories of high temperatures in some warehouses and an inability to take water or bathroom breaks for fear of retaliation: “I myself take medication so I will not have to use the restroom and drink little fluids also to help. Sometimes I think is this torture really worth it??;” “afraid to drink water for fear of not hitting [his] rate;” “no air conditioning when it’s hot in the facility;” “the air conditioning was not working and you could easily pass out from the heat in Arizona going on 115 that week;” “please help stop the mandatory overtime and ten hours shift in a humid atmosphere.” One worker issued this plea: “please send OSHA to investigate these conditions that are affecting workers physically and mentally.”

In addition to the intense physical stress, Amazon pushes workers to the emotional brink. Over the last five years, emergency workers were called to Amazon warehouses at least 189 times at 46 different locations for workers experiencing a mental health breakdown or at imminent risk of suicide. A navy veteran and former Amazon employee told our offices that “there was a point where I would find myself crying on my shift… I really felt like I just didn’t wanna be alive anymore.”

In another story shared with our offices, a former Amazon employee said, “working at Amazon was one of the most depressing periods of my life. For nearly four years I worked in isolation barely speaking to anyone. At work you never heard much from anyone other than how much they hated it there and wanted to leave. I imagine prison is very similar… My mental state began to decline until I began to feel unstable. My nights were spent walking around in circles in the warehouse pulling things from shelves for hours until it made me want to snap. One day I just broke. I found myself unable to get out of bed where I stayed for five straight days. I ate nothing. I thought about suicide.”

Workers also commented directly on injuries and safety concerns: “someone would get injured in the building every day. They would talk about working safely yet keep demanding high rates. That’s why there were so many injuries. They also filled WAY too many items in the warehouse. This caused items to fall off shelves onto workers. It was common to hear someone received a concussion or back injury.” Another worker noted that safety was disregarded during busier periods: “while generally my supervisors are concerned about safety that seems to fly out the window when we are under pressure to fill orders on time.” Another worker said, “I frequently see the ambulance come to the warehouse. Three laborers fainted in front of me – they keep a wheelchair in the middle of the warehouse.”

Amazon operates more than 100 warehouses across the country that employ more than 125,000 people,3 and yet in the last five years OSHA has reported conducting only 150 inspections of Amazon spaces and issued just 41 violations.4 OSHA has previously found that Amazon fails to report worker injuries and when OSHA does investigate, your agency has found instances of egregious injuries, including fractures and amputations.5

In one year at one facility, OSHA found 26 separate cases of “work-related fatality, injury or illness” that Amazon failed to report. Those incidents included falls resulting in head injuries, face wounds that were “glued closed,” as well as a number of severe back, shoulder, and wrist strains. After finding these unreported injuries, OSHA issued one “other-than-serious” violation with a penalty of $7,000.

When Amazon employee Phillip Terry was “fatally crushed when a forklift’s lift fell on him while he was doing maintenance work on it,” the corporation was fined just $28,000 for “failure to ‘provide adequate training’ and to develop and document certain safety procedures.”

That is unacceptable. Owing to the breadth and severity of past violations as well as mounting public revelations of brutal and hazardous working conditions, we request that OSHA launch a thorough and comprehensive investigation into the workplace conditions at all of Amazon’s warehouses, and that any violations uncovered in the course of such an investigation be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. OSHA’s mission is to “ensure safe and healthful working conditions for working men and women.” We ask that you intensify your efforts to ensure that goal is met for all Amazon workers. No employee, especially those who work for the wealthiest person in the world, should be forced to work in unsafe conditions.

We look forward to your response. Sincerely,

Bernard Sanders United States Senator

Ilhan Omar Member of Congress •

A PDF of this letter is available here.

Further information: “Amid Amazon Prime Day Protests, Sanders and Omar Lead Call for Probe of ‘Brutal and Hazardous Working Conditions’,” by Jessica Corbett.

[Read More On LeftPress.org]