#though it's an unlucky coincidence that it had to happen today of all days

[itsscottiesstark]

I take it as a personal attack that AO3 would shut down for 10 hours on the first day of the month that marks a year of good omens s2 but okay.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 13)

Oh no... 13 is an unlucky number! Oh, well.

Up to this point we've seen Natsume fall in love with Mikan. This next arc is all about discovering Natsume, however, and we've pretty much already talked about that so maybe my analysis for his perspective will leave some things to be desired, which is fine, because Mikan's will come in due time! That being said, there's plenty of stuff in this arc, especially at the start of it, to analyze for Natsume as well.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Takahashi-san has dressed all the Elementary children in their New Year’s kimonos and they are now ready to celebrate the holiday together. They eat a New Year’s feast in the dorms lounge, a rare day where the children don’t have to eat according to their star rank.

It just so happens that New Year’s Day is also Mikan’s birthday. Everyone pretends like they don’t know, because Hotaru told them to leave it a surprise. Mikan is trying to let everyone know about the special day, but the New Year’s cards come in and everyone gets immediately and understandably distracted.

Of particular interest to everyone is Ruka’s card from his mother, who references Natsume and Aoi in her letter. Now everyone is in Ruka’s business and teasing him, so Natsume steps in to help, taking the card from Mikan, returning it to Ruka, and making a very good point that she shouldn’t go looking at other people’s cards without their permission. Mikan is uncomfortable, so she decides to change the subject by asking Natsume how many cards he got this year.

With that, Natsume goes cold and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

He didn't want to sit around watching them all gush about their dumb cards anyway!

The truth is Natsume has never gotten any letters or cards, no matter what time of year or holiday it is, and he never will. We can think back to when he told Mikan that the academy would never send her letters to her grandpa. He’d said that the school would never, under any circumstances, allow them to contact the outside. Turns out, the only person who can 100% count on that is Natsume. Sure, he and Mikan are similarly targeted in strange and unfair ways, but he will always be just a little more targeted, because he’s strictly not allowed to have fun or be happy. It would make him happy to hear from his father, to know that he’s safe. The school can’t have anything like that, so they have Natsume sit in the same room as all the other kids, watching them excitedly gush about how many cards they get, while he knows very well he will receive zero each year without fail.

Natsume wants some time to himself, understandably upset about his situation. He’s thinking about Aoi and probably beating himself up because he tends to do that when it comes to his sister and his past. He genuinely has no idea where Aoi is, or if she’s safe, and the school likes to keep it that way, so they can hold it over his head. Aoi is always one of the people they threaten, somebody he works tirelessly to protect despite the fact that he hasn’t seen her in years, doesn’t know where she is, and probably won’t ever see her again.

Natsume looks out the window, sitting on his own, and sees Mikan crying to Narumi because of her guilt and because nobody remembered her birthday. We can see pretty immediately that he isn’t actually upset with Mikan, just with his own situation. He watches her, always lovelorn. Then we see him put his hand on a little bag with a holly decoration. Because of the holly, there’s an instant relation to Christmas. We can’t know what’s in the bag yet, but eventually we will discover that it’s an alice stone.

He's just been carrying this around since Christmas at the latest. How embarrassing.

Natsume made this stone at some point. I would assume it was after his birthday party, before Christmas. Because of the bag, my guess is that he had wrapped it to be a Christmas present but had never given it. That’s understandable. He’s not supposed to woo her, after all, and giving a girl an alice stone would be pretty romantic, even if she has no idea what it means. We will see this stone time and time again, because he likes carrying it around in his pocket. Perhaps he likes imagining that he could give it to her, but never actually goes through with it. Just like today, on her birthday, he will not give the stone, but he’s still carrying it because he’d like to.

The alice stone is proof of at least one thing: Natsume is very much in love with Mikan and he knows it.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Mikan is happily celebrating her birthday. Natsume has returned to the lounge, but he hasn’t said anything, so she’s still feeling awkward about what happened.

The class decides to make mochi once Tsubasa and Misaki arrive. Tsubasa tries to greet Natsume but Natsume responds coldly, with a thumbs down. Now properly irritated, Tsubasa has decided to pull a prank.

Natsume does not make mochi. He sits on his own, napping with manga over his face like always. Once the class is finished, Permy quickly offers her mochi to him, but his attention is immediately on Mikan, who is giving her mochi for him to eat. She tries to apologize, but can’t get the words out, so she leaves the bowl on the table. Natsume can tell that she’s still feeling guilty, even though he isn’t really mad at her. She was thinking of him, so it’s no surprise that he ends up eating the soup, even if it is disgusting.

It doesn't matter if it's disgusting. He's gonna eat it anyway. Because she made it. Zoe and I joke that Natsume would eat all her food (out of his unending love, of course) and eventually get used to the bizarre combinations she puts together. He might even start liking them, who can say.

Hotaru has been invited to the Hana Hime den to be a flower princess, a girl hand-picked by the middle school principal and who carries a heavy amount of prestige and status. Misaki mentions some rumors about the MSP, namely that she locks up her favorite girls in a dungeon, and that immediately gets Natsume’s attention. He’s struck, and to a first-time reader, this might seem odd. He’s strangely intrigued by a girly flower party where guys aren’t even allowed. But he’s not interested for himself. Natsume can guess based on this new information that if Aoi is anywhere on the Alice Academy campus, it’s in the Hana Hime den dungeon.

There’s always an extra invitation ball that is given to a random girl each year, so she can also attend the prestigious party, but the chances that it would land in the hands of an Elementary student are very low.

The Class B girls look for one anyway, but their search doesn’t get too far because suddenly the kids are flying across the room, sticking to each other, like Hotaru and Youichi to Ruka, Anna to Nonoko, Koko to Kitsu, and even Natsume to Mikan.

Turns out Tsubasa’s payback scheme for Natsume giving him the cold shoulder was to put sticky mochi flour into their mochi as a prank, which will keep all the children stuck to the people who ate the same mochi for a full hour.

He was counting on her never finding out he ate it, but alas.

Mikan then realizes that since she’s stuck to Natsume, that he must have eaten her mochi. He can’t argue that he didn’t, but he turns quickly to insults to distract from how sweet of a moment that could potentially be. He says he choked it down, which might very well be true, but it leaves the question of why he’d put himself through the trouble of choking it down if it didn’t mean anything to him. Hmm. Check mate, Natsume.

Then, Mikan finds out that she’s the recipient of the prize jewel, and has thus been invited to the Hana Hime party. There’s something quite fishy about Mikan being the recipient. It’s too much of a coincidence, and it isn’t one. This is all an elaborate trick to trap Natsume in the dungeon forever, and it’s not by the MSP.

Most of the groups have become unstuck, except for Hotaru, Youichi, and Ruka. Tsubasa reads the packet and discovers that some people may be stuck for two or three days as a possible side effect. Mikan and Natsume can become unstuck, but Natsume grabs her hand and keeps her still.

He's not going to miss this opportunity, even if it puts him on the spot and is kind of embarrassing. To be honest, this could possibly unravel all the work he's been doing to downplay how much he likes Mikan. What if she starts thinking he has feelings for her? It's all so risky, but he's willing to do anything for Aoi.

He’s going to do everything he can to go to that party and possibly find his sister. Getting stuck to Mikan and then her being invited to the Hana Hime den is all just too good of a chance to miss. If she can somehow still go while attached to him, it gives him an in to check out the palace and try to find the dungeon.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Natsume is adamant about keeping up the charade that he and Mikan are still stuck. It’s important to him and he’s desperate. He would do anything to save his sister, so if it means threatening Mikan a little, he’s willing to do it. It doesn’t matter that Mikan has no idea what’s going on, what matters is even the chance of going.

Narumi returns to say there’s not a good probability that Hotaru and Mikan would still be allowed to attend the party, because boys aren’t allowed and they are firmly attached to three of them. Mikan has more and more reason to not want to be stuck when she realizes that going to the bathroom and sleeping will be tricky business. Natsume is obviously not a huge fan of it either. He’s usually cold and snippy, even when bickering with Mikan, but this time he’s yelling just like she is. He’s uncomfortable too, but it’s something he’s willing to sacrifice for Aoi.

Mikan only gets more and more upset, screaming about how much she hates Natsume. He doesn’t seem to take it very seriously until Koko, who is reading her mind, asks Mikan if she likes Ruka better than Natsume, and she responds that she does.

Natsume is hurt, but sadly it’s not anything he can’t eventually come to terms with, like every other disappointment in his ceaselessly disappointing life. For now, he’s bitter, but this is great news for Ruka, isn’t it?

It’s time for sleep, and they’re standing in Natsume’s fancy special star room. At her discomfort, he offers that they can sleep in her tiny room if she’d prefer it, but the venue isn’t exactly her problem. He proceeds to be unpleasant, saying that he’s not interested in sleeping with her either, since she probably kicks a lot and talks in her sleep. But then he’s serious, still bitter when he tells her “Sorry for not being Ruka,” and promises that the whole charade would be over tomorrow.

It's on rare occasions like this that Natsume can express even the tiniest fraction of what he's really feeling, in this case jealousy and hurt.

He really never would have done this to himself if Aoi’s safety wasn’t potentially at stake. Having Mikan be so angry at him, hearing her say she much prefers Ruka to him, having to share his bed with her--it’s all stuff he doesn’t want to do! Further, he’ll probably be in serious trouble tomorrow if he does manage to find and rescue Aoi. There’s nothing fun going on in Natsume’s brain, just worry and the skeleton of a desperately laid-out plan to save his sister.

Sleeping with Mikan is something he doesn’t want to do, no doubt, but not because she probably talks and kicks in her sleep. That wouldn’t actually bother him so much. Natsume usually waits until he’s alone in his room at night to let himself be sick. According to the chapter where Tsubasa found out about his condition, Natsume sometimes wakes up in a coughing fit until he coughs up blood. He suffers and struggles and is in pain when he sleeps, and Mikan will be there this time, up close to possibly see it.

How soft his eyes get, just looking at her. It's interesting whenever he drops his facade, like now in a state of half-awakeness, and we can see just how affectionate he'd be if he wasn't always sacrificing his happiness.

But Natsume falls asleep first anyway, and pretty quickly starts having a nightmare. He’s breathing heavily and struggling, having a PTSD flashback nightmare about Aoi. But Mikan wakes him up, sitting up, concerned for him. Natsume is barely awake, but his eyes turn soft. She saves him from his nightmares in more ways than one, like walking-talking serotonin. He reaches for her, in a state of half-consciousness, because his nights are usually awful but the time he spends with Mikan usually isn’t. Maybe combining them is the way to sleep peacefully for a change. So he snuggles her. She starts freaking out, embarrassed, but Natsume tries to reason with her, and maybe with himself too, half-asleep as he is. No, no, it’s just for tonight, just for now. It’ll be like it never happened tomorrow, it’s fine. She can go right back to Ruka tomorrow, since she prefers him anyway, and it won’t be a big deal. He just wants this for now, just for a little bit. Just while he can.

It’s sad that Natsume always thinks of these moments with Mikan as aberrations. They’re little moments that he borrows or steals just to have them for now, thinking they’re meaningless to her, but carrying them like they’re precious to him. He doesn’t think they belong to him, or that he has the right to want anything from her. He holds her during the SA class’s RPG as a joke. He tells her he likes her hair down after fighting with her. He dances with her, knowing that she’s danced with lots of other people and it won’t matter as much to add him to the list. He kisses her after he assumes Ruka already has, just so he can have keep it in his memories. And he cuddles with her now, even though she’s freaking out, because he needs some comfort, even though it isn’t his place to be hugging her. He always has to reason himself into these situations, like he’s convincing himself that he’s allowed to do this one selfish thing, just as long as she doesn’t understand how much it means to him, just as long as it won’t mean anything to her, just as long as he can get away with it.

And because he’s borrowing, the next morning he acts as though her holding him is some kind of bother. He acts all irritated and pretends like nothing happened, because he was borrowing the moment to begin with. It wasn’t his right to take it, and she can’t know it meant something. It also could be that he genuinely can’t remember the last night that clearly. People do all sorts of crazy things in between sleep that they can’t remember. Maybe his lack of sense and restraint helped him get the courage to hug her in the first place, and now that he’s fully awake he can hardly remember. If this is the case, then he's probably scolding his sleepy self for being so ridiculous.

It's up to you to decide if he really can't remember or if he's pretending. Both are possible and neither would really surprise me tbh.

It’s possible, but knowing Natsume, it’s also possible he’s pretending like he doesn’t remember. Either way, he has to do damage control, because she absolutely cannot get the wrong right idea and think that he has affection for her.

The morning brings good news as well, because Natsume, Ruka, and Youichi are allowed to accompany Mikan and Hotaru, as long as they’re dressed as girls.

It’s all working out a bit too conveniently. This is Persona’s scheme to trap Natsume, so of course it would all work out in order that he could make his way to the dungeon. Natsume might be relieved that his plan is working, but it won’t go so smoothly once they’re actually in the Hana Hime den.

Conclusion

The most interesting scenes to analyze from Natsume's perspective are the ones where he chooses to be selfish just once in a while. They're such silly things to call selfish, but they are to him. Being sweet or affectionate to the girl you love should be second-nature, not something to deny yourself, but it's what he's trying to accustom himself to. We also see just how desperate he can be in trying to protect people important to him, like Aoi. The lengths he goes to in order to find her are impressive and show just how determined he is. Going forward, we'll only see more of this kind of determination.

My sister (Zoe) and I made three playlists for NatsuMikan, just like I'm making three essays. One playlist for Natsume's POV, one for Mikan's, and one general playlist for their relationship. I've been listening to the Natsume one while writing these and it's been a lot of fun! This is my long-winded way of plugging Love Song Requiem. Good bye.

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[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Neither of them said anything for a long minute. Murky water dripping carelessly into a puddle somewhere. 

Asivus looked Astor up and down, taking him in. He then nodded, before kicking his legs back out and resting his arms behind his head, resuming his entertainment of staring at the wall. This time he put on the smile.

“Welp! I was kinda hoping a couple decades imprisonment would do the trick, but execution is fine too, I guess. Swiftness and punctuality and all that.” He let out a fake yawn. “Though you’re wasting your time if you’re looking to give a prayer. I intend to go out without asking the gods for anything.”

“I’m not a priest.” Astor said bluntly.

Siv cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…...n...nun—?”

“What happened to you, Assivus?” 

“Ahhhh…And interrogation…” He nodded up and down again. “Then I’ll tell you what I told the other guy—you can goooooooo suck my dick.”

Siv turned to the side, fiddling with something metal in his right pocket, the rattling echoing on the stone floor.  He finally pulled out an old flask, shaking it back and for, the sound revealing a little less than a third of alcohol left in the container. He shook it again and looked at the seer. 

“Snuck this bad boy in, earlier! I know my way around a pat down or two, heheh…” He took a swig before gesturing towards Astor again. “How ‘bout you, choir man? Got any sorrows to drown?”

“A kind offer, but I actually value my health,” he replied. “You got any other contraband keeping you company, then?”

He tensed, but recovered so quickly Astor nearly thought he imagined it. Asivus then let out a laugh before taking another drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—which despite the grime, was probably the cleanest part of his person. 

“So they took the nearest homeless looking pal and sent them down to ask me shit...that’s certainly new.” He studied the seer again. “What? We supposed to bond over our greasy hair? Lack of fashion?” Another beat of silence. “...I’ll admit, it’s working a bit!” He laughed, leaning back against the wall. 

Astor sighed silently, before cutting to the chase. “You’re being charged with manslaughter—the rampaging Guardian that destroyed part of the castle. But I know it wasn’t you.” Water dripped in the back end of the cell. “I want you to tell me about the malice.”

One of the cells down the corridor rattled, some Lizalfo shifting in it’s sleep. The echoing metal left a sense of unease in the air. 

“Listen…” Assivus’s voice dropped to a dangerously quiet tone. “I’m not looking for a defense attorney, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. So you should probably get on your way before you miss your sermon.” He glared at Astor, blue eyes seemingly a shade darker. 

“There were timelines where the world ends today, you know.” He stepped closer to the cell bars. “The princess far too weak to awaken her powers, the Calamity having grown just strong enough to erupt around the castle, infecting stone and flesh alike.” 

“Well whatareya doing here, then, Mr. Doomsday?” Assivus cocked his head to the side. “If the world’s supposed to end, shouldn’t you be...out there? Maybe holding an ‘End is Nigh’ sign or something?”

“It doesn’t end for us, though. I’ve spent my life studying the endeavours and feats that await this world and the next. We’ve luckily still got a few years before hell starts to walk.” Astor stepped closer again, unwavering to Assivus’ gaze. “I’m merely curious about how your little disturbance—or perhaps, failure of a disturbance—coincides with the Calamity’s potential return.”

“I fucked with some Sheikah Tech. Guardian got funky. Brat nephew saves the day. I get arrested. Don’t remember running into any ancient evils on this little joy ride.”   

“You and I both know the official report is made-up bullshit. I imagine your spite is derived from the unfairness of the situation.” He tucked his hair behind his ears. “Guardians can’t be corrupted through mechanical means. They’re forces crafted to take on ancient magical forces, and as such are engrained with magical components. They don’t just break out into violence over a broken gear, much less be purposefully made to go against their ancient purposes.” He scoffed at the smirk on Asivus’ face. “Especially not by some idiot like you.” Asivus placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. 

“In addition,” Astor continued, “I imagine your father didn’t have purple and gold slitted eyes. So that trait you occasionally have is certainly suspect.”

Assivus blinked, and the creeping colors in his eyes faded along with his confident smirk. He rubbed his blue eyes and sighed. 

“Hey well that’s just rude,” Siv said, playfully. “Maybe I got it from my mom.”

Astor clicked his tongue, before clenching his jaw.

“Welp, you’re certainly a smarter cookie than I gave you credit for, purple man.” Asivus crossed his legs—criss-cross-applesauce—and turned completely too Astor. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t really care anymore. And I don’t know why you care. Knowing doesn’t change anything for your little predictions, does it?”

The prophet’s face remained unreadable. Siv started scratching his head. “You know I do remember you now...I’ve seen you around. You used to pester the Dick-Rhoam a bunch. Walking around with your little maps and star charts or whatever...yeah, yeah. The weirdo that would tell the rich bastards around here that they were useless. Very bitter insults, I respect it! Suppose some heroes wear robes over capes.”

“It’s not about insults, it’s the truth.” Astor narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you, but rest assured, we all are doomed to be consumed by the Calamity.”

There was silence between them again, but the slight smile on Siv’s face didn’t fade.

“You know, this whole dark and edgy doomsday act is great and all, don’t get me wrong. But since it’s just us alone here there’s no need to keep up the act. I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw you left that anonymous gift of exotic bird encyclopedias in Larc’s office last year.” Astor’s jaw tightened and Siv winked. “And I know because he claimed he saw me leave it—and I don’t buy books, ever. Might wanna change your wardrobe, you wouldn’t wanna be confused as the homeless orator—”

“The Malice.” The seer cut in. “How’d you get it?”

“Ah, it all started when I was born in Rauru Settlement to Lord Ligero Arist—”

“I mean how did you manifest it?” He articulated.  “Everyone has malice, yes. But it takes something else to make it a physical power. Much less enough to infect Sheikah Technology.”

Asivus tapped his chin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t I just perish in peace? The ol’ axe seems for sharper conversation.”

“Look, I just want...I want to…” Astor shook his head, restarting. “Any information I get is something I can use to make our future demise just slightly more bearable for whatever unlucky generation lives. Don’t you care about that?”

“Nope! Got no kids. Larc and his brats either didn’t care to look at me, or Larc’s too much of a spineless brother to care about me over the rules. Soooo, I’m all for looking out for me, myself, and I, thank you very much.” He tapped his foot against the stone floor. “Plus, I had an ex that used his kids to scam me of 6k rupees in a pocket monster match a while back, so I’m still recovering from that.” 

“Can I trade you then? What do you want? If I come back here with a good wine, will your lips loosen?” Astor was already mentally planning who he could buy a bottle from without a paper trail, already expecting Siv to say yes.

Water continued to drip and drip and drip. Asivus sighed.

“...Nah.” Astor raised an eyebrow. “I’m good...you can’t get what I want, anyhow…”

The seer looked at him for a long moment. Siv had gone back to staring into blank space, deep in thought about something that had caused his smirk to fade.

Let’s see...What would a dead man value? He’s got a rough relationship with his family, he’s got no friends, he’s tainted by a crime of his past…

“Are you interested in the past?” The prophet finally asked. “I know stuff about your mother. If the material doesn’t mean much to a dead man, then I’m all for a trade of information.”

Siv’s eyes suddenly shot up, specks of gold appeared in his pupils before disappearing.

“Wh..*What...?*”

“I’ll start. We’ll both trade details bit by bit, alright?” It was his turn to smirk at the look on Asivus’ face. 

“I’m a bastard child.”

Asivus scrunched his eyebrows. “The fuck does that have to do with my…” His eyes suddenly widened, his mouth opening and closing. He quickly checked his flask to see how much was left, and took a swig. He stared back at Astor. “Explains a bit but...What the actual fuck.”

“Her name was Serenity. Serenity Lior Astor, from Deya Village. There, I think that’s adequate, yes?” Astor gestured down to him. “Your turn.”

Asivus scratched his chin, before standing. He drank the rest of his flask, before dropping it to the ground. “How’d she die?”

“Your father is Lord Ligero. You know how this game works.”

Siv bit his lip, for a moment, before shrugging. Suddenly, purple started to creep at the edges of his eyes, pupils thinning to gold.

“OK, magic man. But don’t be a snitch, alright?” Assivus raised one of his hands open in the air, and for a moment, Astor wondered if he was supposed to take it in a weird sideways handshake. 

Then, the air swirled, a sensation of mixed euphoria and misery tainting the corridor. Cell occupants were rustling.

A glow of magenta swirled up Assivus’ forearm, before swirling in an orb hovering over his palm. The sound of it forming was like the thick, suffocating scream of hot metal as a smith plunges it into water.

The malice left as quick as it came, and hovering in Assivus’ palm was a strange, and beautiful astrolabe. It’s alluring faint glow nearly made him reach out between the bars to touch it.

“Your turn.”

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 1

Behold, my attempt to rectify the appalling lack of into the mind fics in the BNHA fandom.  :P

AO3

FFN

.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He stood on top of the stairs to the beach, looking down on them.  With the sun rising behind them, his pupils were pinpoints, his irises shockingly bright. He wore a thin windbreaker over a t-shirt that read ‘tracksuit’ and a pair of sweatpants with his signature red shoes.  His expression was strangely flat and blank.  He had never looked at them like that before.

“Deku?” said Ochako, uncertainly, taking a step forward, her hand half raised, as though she could reach him despite being so far away.

The commission instructor flung out an arm, stopping her.  He was staring up at the boy, too, his eyes blown wide, lips pulled back with something like worry, something like fear, and something like avarice.  “Whatever that is,” he said, “it isn’t Midoriya Izuku.”

.

Aizawa reviewed the program the commission had sent to him, ignoring the gentle bumping of the bus and the barely controlled chaos of the students around him.  It looked fairly straightforward, all things considered.  The requirement was new, and Aizawa felt it was illogical to test students like this, when they could simply have the material added to the course load, but, overall, he’d seen worse.  

So why did this bother him so much?

He scanned the paperwork again.  He was going to be getting the same certification as his students, had arranged to be part of the same general ‘cohort’ even, because he didn’t trust them on their own.  At all. Ever.  

But that shouldn’t be an issue.  Even when they did get split up, they’d be going in groups of five and—

Ah.  There it was. Groups of five, with any odd numbers being used to fill out other groups who were undergoing testing on the same day, most of whom were adult heroes, if he recalled correctly.  

With the addition of Aizawa, there were twenty-one of them.

Calling on years of experience, Aizawa didn’t groan.  The thing was, Aizawa knew, even before arriving and having numbers and groups assigned, who the odd one out would be. There was only one student who could be so problematic without trying or indeed having any control over the variables that went into causing the problem.  

Midoriya.  

Aizawa almost suspected that Midoriya had some secret trouble-attracting quirk on top of the lightning-spitting bone-breaking insanity and the randomly appearing eldritch abomination tentacle things.  It would fit right in.  

Sadly, Midoriya’s ability to find trouble didn’t seem to go away when Aizawa stared at him, so he had to acknowledge that the kid was just that unlucky.  

If Aizawa let Midoriya go off to complete the course on his own, he would probably discover that, oh, pro hero Wash was laundering money from an overseas smuggling operation disguised as an environmental clean up charity.  Or, somehow, locate a villain, despite being at a secure hero commission building. Like he had during the provisional license exam.  Or break a bone.  Again. Or discover a previously unknown aspect of his quirk.  Again. Or get into a fight with Bakugo. Again.

No way.  Not if Aizawa had anything to say about it.  

.

Izuku bounced in place, excited.  He was attending a professional development course given by the Hero Standards and Practices Commission.  It was like a dream come true!  Literally!  He dreamed about this!  Of course, he’d had the dream when he was seven, and he’d just learned about the HSPC and what it did, and All Might had been the course teacher, which he wasn’t going to be for this course, and which was also a little redundant, because All Might (Mr. Yagi, Toshinori, Eight) was already his teacher, and the reason behind this course, and making everyone with any kind of hero license take it, was a bit disturbing, and he’d had to opt out of some of the course features, because reasons, but, regardless—

“Midoriya,” said Jiro, tapping on his shoulder, “they’re calling for you.”

“Oh!  Thanks!” said Izuku, nodding vigorously, and, man, he really had to cut his hair soon. It was getting long enough to fall in his eyes when he did that, and that would be distracting in the field. Good thing it wouldn’t matter for today!

They weren’t going to be doing anything physical, after all.

He walked up to the table, showed the person with the clip board his provisional license (he could still hardly believe he had it!  It was so cool!) and received a card with a number on it.  

“Pin that to your shirt,” said the man, hardly looking at him.  

At least, the man was trying to look like he was hardly looking at him.  Maybe he recognized him from the sports festival and didn’t want to make things awkward?  But it had been a while since the sports festival.  They tended to drain from common memory pretty quickly, and—

Oh, no, he’d been holding up the line.

He sketched a quick bow and ran over to where the rest of his classmates and teacher were waiting.  

“So,” said Aizawa, looking as exhausted as ever. There was a spark of something in the man’s eye, though.  Vigilance. Had he noticed something amiss? Should Izuku be on alert as well? “We have consecutive numbers, so most of us should be together in the same groups.  Problem child.”

Izuku jumped to attention.  “Yes, sir?”

… It was kind of sad that he answered to the name ‘problem child,’ wasn’t it?

(Was it sadder that he almost liked the nickname? It was nicer than what some of his other teachers had called him.  It didn’t have the same bite.)

“Trade numbers with Yaoyorozu.”

Izuku blinked and looked at Yaoyorozu in surprise.  “Um,” he said.  “Okay?”  He unpinned his card and held it out to his classmate.  

Yaoyorozu took it carefully, frowning at the number.  “Why are we doing this, sensei?” she asked.  

“Because knowing his luck, Midoriya is going to be the odd one out, and you’re the only one I trust not to kill someone or get kidnapped if you’re left on your own.”

Okay.  Harsh. But fair.  

“What about Iida?” asked Kaminari.  

“I know what I said.”

Harsher—Wait.  Aizawa knew about that?  Since when?!

“Didn’t she go off that one time, though?  At Kamino?”

Aizawa turned to stare at Mina, who held her hands up. “Forget I said anything, sensei!”

“No, no, you’re right.  Hagakure, you take Midoriya’s number.”

“Eh, me?” asked the invisible girl.  

“Yes,” said Aizawa.  

“Er, are you sure?  I don’t know if I could survive a Midoriya-level calamity!”

Izuku felt his jaw drop a little.  Was that what they were calling it now?  Rude.  

“The calamity won’t happen if he isn’t there,” reasoned Aizawa.  

Which.  Okay.  True.  But also, rude.  

Izuku wasn’t that bad, was he?

Izuku took Hagakure’s card.  The number put him between Uraraka and Aizawa, so he’d probably be with at least one of them.  On reflection, Yaoyorozu’s number had put him on the other side of Aizawa.  Which probably wasn’t a coincidence.  

The rest of the class got through registration shortly thereafter, with several of his classmates trying to trade their own numbers, only for Iida to scold them.  Which was typical, really.  It was almost calming, and Izuku needed calm after… that.

Was his luck really that bad?

Now he was much more nervous than before.  Except, before he’d been excited, and, now, he was really—

Not.  

He fiddled with the sleeve of his uniform, trying not to pick at his scars or cross the line into overtly fidgeting and being distracting.  He wished he’d brought one of his grip strength training tools.  At least with those he could pretend their only purpose was working out, unlike his other fidget toys.  

Oh, gosh, was that pro hero Rosemary, the memory hero? And Strato!  The high altitude hero!

Wow, he’d been so worried he almost hadn’t noticed how many amazing heroes were here!  There were even some he didn’t know!

And then they were being called up, number by number.  

Hagakure, true to Aizawa’s prediction, was placed with a group of confused-looking strangers, including Rosemary.  Izuku was almost jealous.  He’d love to learn how her quirk worked.  

Actually…  All of the people in that group were heroes with mental quirks.  How interesting!  Izuku would have to ask Hagakure if they gave her any tips.  He was sure they’d have different insights than the other people in their class, especially considering the subject matter of the course.  

The subject matter being combating mental attacks.  

That’s why Izuku had to opt out of being a ‘subject’ for the course.  He didn’t entirely understand it, not yet, but One for All definitely had a mental aspect, and he didn’t know how or if that would show up in a simulated attack like the ones they’d be demonstrating.  It was better to play it safe.  His quirk was already weird enough as it was.  He still wasn’t sure how he’d manage to talk Aizawa and his classmates out of being suspicious after blackwhip came out.  Most of that day was a blur.  

Izuku suspected that things would not have been smoothed over nearly so easily if Nezu hadn’t known about One for All.  

He also wasn’t looking forward to the reaction when the other user’s quirks started coming out – Even if being able to use them was going to be really cool.  

Anyway, his own group had resolved itself to consist of Aizawa, Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki.  He was relieved.  Todoroki looked relieved, too.  That made sense.  With what Todoroki had told Izuku about his history, he wouldn’t want to be doing this with people he didn’t know, either.  

But Todoroki would have opted out, anyway, right?  Or did Endeavor not let him?  Honestly, that would be par for the course for Endeavor. Todoroki said he was getting better, but…  Izuku had doubts.  He liked to think that people could always be saved, even from themselves, that most villains could be reformed, even if the government didn’t think so, that people like Endeavor and Kacchan could see the error of their ways. But.  

But even though Kacchan was better than he was before didn’t mean that he didn’t still do things that Izuku… didn’t like.  

And he couldn’t imagine that Endeavor was changing faster than Kacchan.  

“Who will they have us do first, do you think?” asked Uraraka. “I mean, I know they’re going to go through all of us, but all of this is making me so nervous.  I have a lot of embarrassing memories, I mean, I’m sure everyone does, but, ugh, that didn’t come out right…”

“Well!” said Iida, energetically.  “If they let us volunteer, I shall go first!”

“What?” said Izuku, surprised.  “You didn’t opt out?”

“Opt out?” asked Uraraka.  “That was an option?”

“I mean, yes?” said Izuku.  “I mean, I had to file a bunch of paperwork and get Mom, All Might, and Principal Nezu to sign off on it, but, I mean, it’s an option for people who know secrets that shouldn’t be exposed.”  Like Iida.  What was he thinking?

“I… did not know that was an option,” said Iida, who had evidently now realized he was in deep, deep trouble.  

Izuku resolved to protect his friend’s secrets as best as he was able, even if it meant he didn’t get a good score in the training.  

“I didn’t think there was an opt-out option, either,” said Todoroki, frowning.  He reached towards his face but tugged on his hair instead of touching his scar.

Okay.  So.  “Am I- Am I the only one that asked?  L-like, it wasn’t easy, I had to get a bunch of signatures, but it was doable, I…”  He shrugged, helplessly.  

“I wasn’t informed there was an opt-out,” said Aizawa, grumpily and a little… suspiciously?

Izuku cringed.  He did not need his teacher to be suspicious of him.  He did not need people looking into his life.  Into his past.  Into his quirk.  

Maybe, if they couldn’t keep Iida’s and Todoroki’s secrets quiet, he could play his reluctance off as pertaining to those.  Even if the idea made him feel incredibly guilty and unworthy of his friends.  

He would just have to do his best to help them.  

Before any more conversations could be had, their group was called into one of the rooms.  A set of six cheap futons laid on the floor.  Monitoring equipment lined one of the walls.  Two commission personnel, a man and a woman, were waiting for them.

When the woman saw Izuku, she frowned and pulled her phone out of her pocket.  What was that about.

“Hi,” said the man, who had a rather hooked nose and very bright, almost glowing, yellow eyes.  “I’m Ito Kenzo, and I’ll be your instructor for today.  You can call me Ito-san.  This is Saito Yume, we’ll be using her quirk for today’s demonstration.”

The woman smiled brightly, putting away her phone quickly. “The way my quirk works is that I can put up to five people into a shared dream state modeled after a sixth person’s mind.  All six people lose consciousness when I use my quirk, and the perception of time in the dream state is usually altered, although by how much varies depending on the group.  The dream state persists until either I release it, the people involved break free, or eight hours pass.  However, I’ll be making the rounds once an hour to pull everyone out and let you move on to the next person in the group.”

“I’ll be joining the dream state with you, to help point out tactics,” said Ito.  “Although the person the dreamscape is modeled on won’t be completely aware of what’s going on, the goal is to familiarize you with what it feels like to have your minds invaded in a safe, secure environment.  Saito-san’s quirk is similar enough to that of several known villains to be a good example of what to expect.”  Ito paused.  “Any questions?”

Uraraka raised her hand.  “Who’s going first?” she asked.  

“Ah, that would be—” He broke off as Saito tugged on his sleeve and showed him her phone.  The man did a double take, then paled, slightly.  He glanced at Izuku.  “Er,” he said, “you’re not supposed to be in this group.”

“Yes, I-I am,” said Izuku.  “This is- This is my number?  It matches?”

Ito glanced at Saito.  Then his phone rang.  “Oops,” he said, looking at his phone.  “It looks like I’m in the wrong group.  You kids are supposed to have Suzuki-san, I was, was requested by another group, so sorry! He’ll be here in a minute!”  Ito retreated through the back door at high speed.  

Izuku swallowed.  Something was going on behind the scenes.  This wasn’t about the suspected traitor thing again, was it?  Izuku had thought, after the training camp, that it was pretty obvious it had to be a teacher…  And it couldn’t be Aizawa-sensei.  He’d almost been killed by the noumu.  

(Also, he was the best teacher Izuku had ever had.)

A new, much taller man walked through the door.  “Hello,” he said.  “I am Suzuki Takami.  I am your instructor.  Apologies for the mix up.”

“No worries!” said Saito.  “Everyone, go ahead, lie down, get comfortable.  Midoriya-san, you’re first!”

“What?” said Izuku.  “But, I, um, I opted out?  I filled in the paperwork and everything.  I got a signature from Abe-san, and Kondo-san, and, and—” He fumbled to pull out his paperwork.  He’d kept copies, just in case.

Saito and Suzuki didn’t so much as look at it.  

“This course doesn’t have an ‘opt-out,’” said Suzuki.

“Excuse me,” said Aizawa.  “He clearly has paperwork for an opt-out.  Maybe you were misinformed.  Like you were about the room.”

Suzuki shook his head.  “I don’t know who you talked to,” he said, “but they were either mistaken about what course you were referring to, or you misunderstood them.”

“But,” said Izuku.  

“Midoriya,” said Aizawa, “if you want to sit this out, it’s fine.  I can go with you, so you won’t be alone.  No one’s going to make you subject yourself to a quirk you aren’t comfortable with.”

“He can do that,” said Suzuki, “but he’ll lose his provisional license.  He’d have to go through recertification entirely.  When’s the next licensing exam?”

“Hold up,” said Aizawa, “you’re doing this course two more times, aren’t you?  I know I was given multiple options for getting this certification.”

“Sure,” said Saito, “but it’s still going to be my quirk.” She wrapped a strand of her hair around her finger, stressed.  

Izuku’s mind was racing.  He couldn’t lose his license.  He couldn’t lose his ability to help people.  He—What would All Might think?  He couldn’t—

“It-It’s-It’s fine, sen-sensei, I’m um.  It’s fine!  I’ll- I’d have to do this anyway, right? Mi-might as well get it over with, huh?”  He walked over to one of the futons, and set down his backpack, trying to hide his trembling hands.  “So, is-is there anything special or specific I have to do for your quirk to work?”

“Nope,” said Saito, cheerfully, “just lie down and close your eyes.  Come on, everyone lay down.”

Aizawa moved slowly, which was nothing short of shocking considering how eager he usually was to crawl into his sleeping bag.  He put the bag down on one of the futons.  “You’re sure there’s no way for Midoriya to opt out?”

“Positive.  We’re really sorry,” said Saito.  

“Illogical,” grumbled Aizawa.  He got into his sleeping bag nonetheless.  “You sure about this, problem child?”

“I-I’m sure, sensei!  Plus ultra, right?”  He laid down, trying to get comfortable, but the panic rising in his veins really didn’t allow for that.  He could, distantly feel One for All (and all it contained) pressing up against the back of his mind with something like concern.  He swallowed.  Don’t think about it.  

His classmates were, hesitantly, picking out their own spots. Iida looked like he wanted to say something.  Uraraka’s brow was furrowed, her lips pursed.  Todoroki was difficult to read, as always.  

Suzuki was already lying down, staring at the ceiling.

Izuku closed his eyes.  

“Alright!” said Saito.  “Here we go!”

.

Yume left the room with Midoriya Izuku in it, feeling just slightly dazed.  She paused for a moment in the back hallway.  She had dozens of other groups to set off, and she was running late after that little snafu.  

Midoriya Izuku was supposed to be in a group with Suzuki-san and four other specially picked professional heroes.  Heroes who would get to the bottom of why and how he had multiple quirks, who would find out who he really was, who would figure out how he was in contact with the League of Villains and why they decided to pick some random quirkless nobody—

Assuming that’s what Midoriya Izuku really was.  The initial investigation had uncovered some discrepancies in his family records.  

In any case, he was not supposed to be in a group with his little friends and overprotective teacher.  

Oh, well.  Except for Midoriya, they were all clean.  If they were really heroes, they’d do what was right.  

Yume pushed off the wall (when had she started leaning on it?) and stumbled.  Something bright and red caught on the periphery of her vision and she looked down.

Her nose was bleeding.

She licked her lips, tasting copper.  It shouldn’t be bleeding.  That only happened when she overused her quirk, when she tried to put too many people into one dreamscape or tried to combine two dreamscapes into one. She’d been pacing herself.  This shouldn’t be happening.  It shouldn’t be bleeding like this, like she had just put more than a dozen people under.

Suzuki Yume promptly passed out.  

.

“Wow,” said Uraraka, looking around in delight.  She was still worried about Deku.  He’d looked really bad right before Saito-san activated her quirk, and she and Suzuki-san had been acting kind of shady, but—

But—

This place was beautiful, and she couldn’t help but be a little in awe.  She’d kind of expected dreamscapes to be more… Mushy, maybe?  Darker?  Her dreams usually weren’t very clear (except for the nightmares, and those didn’t count).

But Deku’s dreamscape was as bright as he was: a beautiful beach and a cerulean ocean at sunrise.  Or was it sunset?  Either way, the sun hovered above the ocean, its light gleaming off the waves.  

“Wow,” said Todoroki, approaching the breakers on the beach.  He crouched, looking at the sand.  “It’s really…”  he poked the sand, “detailed.”

“As expected of Midoriya!” exclaimed Iida, waving his hands. “His attention to detail is unparalleled!”  

“Hm,” said Aizawa.  “Too bright…” He put on his goggles.  

“Excuse me,” said Suzuki.  “If I can have your attention, please.  I apologize for the deception, however—”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Volleyball Actually: Scene 2

It was a cold, dreary day outside, which meant for you it was a perfect day to eat a freshly-made warm onigiri from Miya’s Onigiri. But really, everyday was a perfect day to eat at Miya’s Onigiri. And it seemed like the rest of Japan had the same idea as you, seeing the long line of customers when you walked in.

You made your way up the front of the line soon enough with the queue moving fairly quickly. When you reached the register, the girl recognized you as you took your mask off to order. And before you could even speak, she asked if you wanted your usual, to which you nodded happily. It wasn’t the first time this happened, although it was with a different worker. But with how much you visited the restaurant, you weren’t surprised the employees remembered your face. 

Holding onto your receipt with the order number, you walked over to sit down in an empty corner of the store to wait for your food. Sitting down on one of the stools, you checked your phone to see multiple text notifications. There was one from Kiyoko, wanting to make sure you were coming to the big match next week, one from Kageyama confirming your visit his team again later in the week, and some from your manager about an upcoming schedule.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump up from your seat.

“How’s my favorite customer doing?”

“’Samu!” You greeted him with a hug, surprised by his sudden appearance. 

Your friendship with Osamu had started out as a purely business relationship- customer and restaurant owner relationship to be exact. You had just moved into the city and went to the newly opened Miya Onigiri’s flagship restaurant for lunch, after seeing all the good reviews. After noticing you coming in frequently, he stroked up a conversation with you while waiting for your food one day, and the rest was history. 

“What are you doing here? You said you’d be busy this week with finalizing the opening of your new restaurant in Miyagi.”

He took a seat in the empty stool next to you. “I had to stop by today to check on the store’s inventory. And I heard you visited the team yesterday. How’d it go?”

“Great! Your onigiris were a hit with the team by the way. Thanks for the suggestion.” You shot him a thankful smile, before remembering what Hinata had texted you shortly after your visit. “Why didn’t you tell me your twin brother was also on the team?”

Osamu burst out laughing at your accusing question, putting his arms up in mock surrender when you frowned at his reaction. “‘Tsumu always needs to be knocked down a peg or two, and having a pretty girl not know who he is would have crushed his ego.”

You had thought it was a strange that there was someone with the Miya surname on the team, when looking up how many players were in the MSBY Black Jackals team. But when you had brainstormed ideas with Osamu on what food to to bring on your visit, and he didn’t mention anything, you thought it had just been a coincidence. 

“Also, last week that bastard said my onigiri was salty, so he deserved it.”

“Have either of you matured at all from high school?” You deadpanned. 

“I have, but he dumbs me down.” Osamu shrugged.

You shook your head with a sigh, not being able to imagine what it would be like to put up with two Miyas, when one was already draining your energy. Bless the Miya matriarch. 

“You know you could have just looked it up on the internet to find out.” he added.

“I wasn’t really that curious to investigate. And unlucky for you, he wasn’t even there when I went to visit anyways.” You looked to the front thinking you had heard your order number being called out.

“Well, let me know if you go visit them again. I’ll make him pay for the food next time. But you know, I am surprised you and the shorty are so close after all these years.” Osamu changed the subject, referring to your relationship with Hinata. “You weren’t even in the same year.”

You breathed a happy sigh, thinking back to your time at Karasuno. “The team, when I was in my third year, was really special. With everything we went through that year, it felt like we were one big tight-knit family. So I try to keep in touch with everybody and visit them whenever I can. And it helps that we have a big group chat with everyone that was on the team, making it a bit easier.” You smiled, thinking back to the last time you all got together- it being the Tanakas’ wedding. But even then, not everyone was able to make it due to their busy lives. “But I guess I do dote more on the first-years though. Even more so with Shoyo as of late, since he had gone to Brazil right after graduation.”

Having heard one of his workers call him over, Osamu got up as soon as you finished talking, heading over to the counter. You watched as he grabbed the bag handed to him, walking back over to you before placing the said bag in your hands.

“I told them to add an extra onigiri in there.” He informed you, sitting back down.

“Is this what it feels like to be a valued customer?” you asked, placing your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “Did you know I didn’t even have to tell them my order up at the front? She knew what my usual was as soon as she saw my face.”

He smirked in response. “I think that’s rather a testament to how much you come here.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“With how often you come here and the amount you order when you do, I can’t help but be worried about the health of my favorite customer. I want you to live a long life ordering my onigiri, not have it be the cause of your death.”

You shrugged, brushing off his comment. “It’s healthier than other fast food options, since it doesn’t have any msg- which is good enough for me.” You looked over at the crowd of customers that had just walked in, seeing the restaurant having become even more busier than when you first came in. “I should let you get back to work.”

You got up from your seat, collecting your things after putting back on your face mask. Osamu watched you get ready to leave from his seat, when a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Oh yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” You paused your movement, waiting for him to continue. “How would you feel being the face of Miya’s Onigiri?”

“Eh?!” You reacted like he had just told you Atsumu was actually just him in a blonde wig. “Me?”

“I told you about the new location we were opening in Miyagi, yeah?” Seeing you nod, he continued explaining. “Well, I’ve been thinking about doing a celebrity endorsement, and I thought of you since you’re from the prefecture.”

You still weren’t understanding why he would ask you of all people. “Why me though?”

“Didn’t you say you were a singer?” 

“Singer? Sure. Celebrity? Not really.”

“C’mon. It’s not like we’re a super famous company either. Think of it as beneficial opportunity for the both of us.”

“I feel like it’s more beneficial on my end than yours, though.” You frowned. 

Osamu brushed off your worry. “I’d much rather work with someone who I know and trust than a random person anyways.”

Knowing it was a good opportunity for publicity, you sighed, relenting. “Well, If you’re okay with it, then I guess I am too. But,” you raised your finger, “I’ll only accept onigiri as payment. I’ll feel bad if the advertisement doesn’t help bring in any customers.” Osamu tried to argue, but you just ignored him. “I’ll give my manager your number so that y’all can work out the scheduling.”

And without giving him a chance to negotiate the deal, you waved him goodbye, scurrying out the door.

Director’s Cut: Scene 2 Part 1

“Hey, Tobio!”

“Hai, Hoshiumi-san.” Kageyama looked at his teammate, in the middle of changing into his practice clothes.

“Did you see this?” Hoshiumi showed the Adler’s setter Hinata’s picture posted the night before. “We have to be careful, Tobio. These guys might steal (Y/N) away from us! That’ll mean no more visits, no more delicious bentos, or sitting on our side of the court during matches. And worst of all, no more good luck hugs!” 

Hoshiumi started to pace back and forth around the locker room.

“Senpai said she will come visit us the day after tomorrow.” Kageyama replied with a straight face, resuming his changing.

“Who’s coming tomorrow?” The Schweiden Adler’s captain, Hirugami Fukuro, asked the two younger players, walking into the locker room.

“Captain!” Seeing his captain brought an idea to the Little Giant. “Can you convince Sachiro to come tomorrow with his dog? She likes dogs, right?” 

Kageyama nodded in response.

“(Y/N)-senpai said she’ll visit on Thursday.” Kageyama answered the confused Hirugami.

“Oh, Sachiro will definitely want to come then. He wasn’t able to come because of a midterm last time she came to visit.” Hirugami replied. 

“Who’s coming to visit?” Ushijima asked, having come back from the bathroom. He wiped his wet hands with a handkerchief, folding the wet part inwards before putting it away in his pocket. 

“(Y/N)-senpai.”

“I see.” The wing spiker nodded in understanding. “I will bring some of my tomatoes tomorrow. She mentioned she wanted to try some of them last time we talked.”

“Tomatoes? The Black Jackals can give her tomatoes too! We need something that’ll convince her to stay with us.”

“My tomatoes are of high quality. The MSBY Black Jackals will not be able to find fruit with similar quality and grade easily.” Ushijima responded in confidence.

“That’s true. (Y/N)-senpai seemed very interested when Ushijima-san mentioned his gardening to her.” Kageyama confirmed, agreeing with the ace.

“Maybe I should bring some seeds for her as well?” Ushijima asked. “You should ask her if she has fertile soil to support good seedlings.”

Hoshiumi had already left the locker room, realizing the conversation was going nowhere.

The Karasuno alumni gave him a nod, making a mental note to text his senpai after practice.

Director’s Cut: Scene 2 Part 2

You had a busy schedule the following morning, so you prepared to sleep a bit earlier than usual. Right as you were about to fall asleep, your phone pinged loudly, waking you up. Drowsily, you grabbed your phone to check who had texted you. 

Reading the text, you blinked in confusion, rubbing your eyes to see if you had read the message correctly.

Received 9:10 p.m.

From: Karasuno #9

Message: Senpai, do you have good dirt?

______

(A/N): Hoped you like Part 2! Leave a like, comment, or do whatever ^^

[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.

[snowslasherr]

here's a little something i’m making for all of you because you deserve it ♥️ if you don’t have a valentine you have all of these babies and me as well ♥️ i love you all so much, stay safe and take care of yourselves! i'm sorry if this is too short to be a holiday special :')

i'll add a read more thing later im sorry for clogging up ur dash

Dwight Fairfield

poor boy he'd be so nervous

dwight's really good at keeping track of the days in the fog, so he'd have extra time to prepare

he just wants to make you happy : )!!

he'll nervously tug at your sleeve at the campfire. go along with it and follow him blease

after near 20 minutes of walking in the woods you were about to ask where you're going, but before the words slip out of your mouth you see what he's been leading you to

a couple dark vines are concealing a small space, with a little creek running through the middle. the trees loomed over it, much taller than some of the other trees. crows were settled on some branches but flew away when you stepped in. the whole area was littered with flowers that dwight had planted himself, with the help of claudette. he wanted to make the perfect spot just for you.

"do you like it?"

what a stupid question. of course you like it. smh ❤

theoretically you can both sit there for hours, but trials get in the way. either way, it's perfect. he's perfect.

although he wasn't expecting anything from you it was a pleasant surprise when you whipped out a little gift. you'd gotten meg to help you force convince danny to let her borrow his camera, so she could take pictures of you both. of course, dwight didn't know this

meg was a surprisingly good photographer. the photos weren't blurry and they would make a good gift even in the normal world.

when you gave them to him he teared up and spent the next half hour quickly stuttering out how much he loves and appreciates you : )

Meg Thomas

oh boy

meg is a lil bundle of energy

you'll just be chilling at the campfire, maybe lounging around talking to nancy or jeff, when meg just nyooms in and grabs your hand. you squeak and she just starts zooming away, dragging you along with her.

meg tends to keep her offerings in a secluded place (a hollow tree trunk) because sometimes the other survivors tend to get the offerings mixed up. unfortunately, meg found this specific tree while on a run. she looked like she was having the time of her life, her braids flying behind her. she was fast.

she finally stopped and you could have a well deserved break. but that break was unfortunately cut short, because meg only stopped to pick up a small photo, before she burst back into a run.

when you got back to the campfire, she barely looked phased. you were panting, trying to catch your breath, and she looked relatively calm. she slipped the photo into the fire and then skipped off to the woods with you, to avoid passing out in front of the others.

when you woke up, the both of you were in the ormond resort. the entity had accepted the offer. you didn't even want to ask how she'd gotten the legion to stay out of their realm for you two

neither of you were dressed properly, but like almost everything in the fog, the temperature was fake.

which led to the most obvious situation

snowball fight!

she's so extra with it. she'll build a whole fort while you're pelting her with snowballs, paying no mind to it.

she makes it so big that you could hide in her fort and attack her with snowballs from the inside.

eventually, the girl gets worn out. it takes a while. but she still wants to keep going, so you two make snow angels with connected wings.

after you're both too tired to do anything else, you're pulled back to the campfire, grinning and tired

Claudette Morel

sweet baby. absolute sweetie.

smol lil claudette just pokes you on the arm, gesturing for you to follow her.

of course, you do. don't deny her she's babey

she's taking you down a long homemade path that you've never seen before. maybe because claudette spent hours between trials clearing it out just for this day, and finished it before she came to get you.

Jake Park

he didn't really have big plans for valentines day. dwight reminded him and he kinda just shrugged it off

he probably won't ever have a huge celebration for valentines day, it's not his style. he's a chill guy.

he'll probably sit with you in a clearing near the forest, holding his arm out for the crows to perch on, and showing you how to do that as well

he'll want to just lounge around, comfy day. you wanna get up? nah. comfy day. not today amigo.

consider yourself extremely special if he gives you a bouquet. it's rare, but he might!

the crows will dance around and bob their heads when you cuddle. they don't know what they're doing but let's just say they support your relationship. he totally didn't train them to do that.

he cares, kind of. he knows it's a day to be sappy but again, not really his style. he'll take the opportunity for a bit of affection though.

Nea Karlsson

nea has been planning this for a while, lets say.

every trial that you go in without her is an opportunity! she's been making a detailed mural with the few spray paints she's been allowed by the entity.

she's sure you'll be proud of her. and to top it all off, she finished just in time for valentines day. what a coincidence!

after you get back from a surprisingly laid back trial, you don't get a chance to rest before nea's smiling and telling you to follow her. you complain for a moment, but gave in anyway. you always do

she jumps over a couple logs and puddles, before coming across a couple lone brick walls. they look like nothing at first, but then you walk around to the other side.

nea's smirking as you're in awe, looking at her and then the mural.

"it's beautiful," you whisper, eyes shining. "but not more beautiful than you."

she does a complete double take at the cheesy generic line. she crosses her arms, looking away. but you can see the smile that she was trying to hide. she looked so pretty when she smiled.

Laurie Strode

she'll organize a little something :)

if you can imagine a party room, maybe one similar to one you'd see at a young kids birthday party, that's the kind of thing she'd set up.

it's just a comforting and safe scene, so she thought it'd be best

she collected a lot of offerings for this, please like it : (

she would've baked something but there's no ingredients in the fog besides corn

if you want corn though go for it

it has the vibes of one of those really good cookies from Walmart or something (okay i googled it they're called lofthouse cookies)

in the end she just wants a comfy safe environment,, it's so nice compared to the brutal things that happen in trials

Ace Visconti

do not let this man near flowers or anything of the sort. he'll take a bunch and

so cheesy

he'll take some random thing off the ground that looks cool (like a dandelion or a shiny rock) and say it's a luck charm, and pass it to you.

ace, handing you a flower tied to a funky rock with a piece of grass: happy valentines day :)

he'll set up a whole area beside the campfire for you two and if anyone steps into it he'll kick them out

if he finds a heart shaped rock he'll riot and get nea to spray paint it red. ultimate luck charm. because it's a reminder of him.

Feng Min

small little gamer :)

i'm convinced feng will take you on a romantic trip to taunt killers

myers is tired of it. susie thinks you guys are cute. evan is not having a good time. sally is supporting you. it's chaos

feng is just holding your hand, walking you around the autohaven wreckers. philip is cloaked and is too scared to be hit in the face with a pallet to uncloak.

feng is really short and she's climbing on things to be taller than you, just for the fun of it.

piggy back rides!! she loves piggy back rides. yeehaw

pick her up and carry her around? heart eyes motherfucker

Quentin Smith

aw what a cutie

he forgot about valentines day, but no fear! you didn't

after you guys swim he'll act like he's really tired so that he can rest his head on your lap. you know he's lying cause he keeps silently laughing as if he's a genius sneaky trickster

when you just happily say happy valentines day he's like 😳

he panics

just reassure him it's fine and you did something!

he's still upset about forgetting, but he's quickly distracted by you.

you've found a secluded spot in the woods, the only disturbance being the occasional core popping in to see what's up

you set up a blanket fort. you'd burned quite a few offerings for this. it worked out better than you expected it to, and you were pretty happy with it overall.

you spent as much time there as you could before being pulled into a trial

the time spent together made up for the offerings burned

Kate Denson

both of you set it up together

you stayed at the campfire, nothing crazy

kate played her guitar, and she showed you how to play a song or two (assuming you don't know how to already)

if you want to sing you are welcome to :)

kate will encourage you all the way even if you sound like nails on a chalkboard

she'll make anyone who comments negatively on your voice have a time out. no questions asked. they're older than her? don't care time out.

it's just,, nice and cozy,, and uninterrupted by trials

Jeff Johansen

big cuddly man!

like nea he'll also do something art related!

but it'll still be unique of course

instead of a mural, he'd do a small-ish but still breathtaking painting.

the rest of your day would be spent just chillin. if you're unlucky enough to be ripped into a trial, he'll bring a toolbox to get out as soon as possible. yknow. for more chillin.

Jane Romero

she'd be pretty extra

again, meg would force convince danny to let her use her camera. she'd have a big photoshoot, as best as she can with the limited resources. claudette would set up a scene, and you and jane would pose for the pictures

they turned out really good!

jane keeps them in a secure place and she won't tell you where if you say anything negative about how you looked. not risking it babe!

(phew finally done! i'm super sorry i was a couple survivors short, i didn't wanna burn myself out. if you like it please reblog? i made this in less than 24 hours to surprise you guys. i hope this is a decent special!)

[allmightyneed]

Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 1/20

I wanted villain Might as a Dominant so I wrote it. More to follow

“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living god.”

This night is a fateful one. Not that you knew it yet. It’s the same as any other: routine. The edges of your life are narrow and sharp and easy to find. You do everything the same, day after day. Take the same steps down the same streets at the same time. All so familiar you could do it in the dark, feeling it out by touch.

Street lamps flicker overhead, the yellow light they give off too dim and unreliable to be much help. The asphalt is wet from recent rain. Mist hangs in the air, dampening the normal sounds of city life. All in all, it’s not the most comforting area.

You square your shoulders as you round the corner and head down an alley. 

Straighten out that backbone. Nothing to fear. Easy day. 

Inane mantras play on a loop in your head. You don’t know why this alley still weirds you out. You’ve taken this shortcut countless times before to be able to get to the metro quick enough to catch a train a couple minutes earlier. Hardly saves any time, but in your mind it makes a difference. 

Work today had been… fine. It always was. Reasonably engaging, not too exciting. Being an employee at a quirk analysis firm usually garners questions about what such a job is like, but you find them hard to answer. It can be difficult to characterize. Plus, being a foreigner in Japan, you’re always careful not to say anything that might be taken as an offense to the culture. No matter how long you live here, no matter how comfortable you feel, you are a guest.

Your eyes adjust to the darkness and you shove your hands in your pockets after hitching your purse strap higher on your shoulder. Dinner tonight would be… hmm. You don’t know. You’d bought makings for a salad a few days ago, in a fit of healthy optimism, but that didn’t sound as appealing as a bowl of ramen from the little shop in the bottom floor of your apartment building. It’s cold enough to convince yourself that heavy comfort food is justified, but no… you’ve spent enough eating out this month already, between office lunches and Kiko dragging you to every restaurant grand opening in Musutafu-- 

A booming laugh interrupts your thoughts. The shock of it nearly makes your heart stop. You whirl around, looking for the source, but you already know who it is. Anyone would recognize that laugh. You turn and behold a towering monolith of a figure, not twenty feet away, hands on his hips, stance wide. Even silhouetted dramatically in shadow, you can tell. 

All Might. 

The number one villain.

You freeze. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet?

“You there! Girl!” 

Crap. 

He takes a step forward and you struggle to steel your nerve. It’s public knowledge, essentially, what he can do. Not what his Quirk is, but his basic abilities. He’ll be fast if he wants to be. Inhumanly strong. Ruthless.

He laughs again, sinister and mirthless, sending a shiver of revulsion through you. You remember what he did to that tour group at Mt. Fuji. And there had been that attack on Best Jeanist’s satellite office. Over five hundred casualties. He’d leveled the building, for god’s sake, and then shouted at the late arriving news crews that they were all lucky he was holding back. 

Yes, you remembered that day all too well, having watched the coverage live on TV from your own office, only a few miles away.

What could he do if he didn’t restraint himself? A whole block? A neighborhood? You had looked away from the TV when the building came down, too horrified to watch the spectacle, only to realize that the previously clear sky had glutted with rain clouds. The scale of his power had made your heart drop on that day. Sure, it had been the most exciting thing to happen to you, and a great story. But it was still terrifying.

And now here he is, standing in front of you. This is just your unlucky day. Is it bad that you’re a little disappointed not to hear his infamous catchphrase?

I am here. Such a bold threat. 

It’s times like this you wish you had a better quirk. Granted, you’re very rarely in mortal danger; there really aren’t very many times like this. Strike that-- there are never times like this, not in the cautious, unadventurous existence you’ve curated for yourself. There is nothing in your experience that has prepared you for this. 

You gawp at the spectacle that is him. He’d made a scene once again on the news today, tearing through a rival quirk analysis firm’s downtown complex until the number one hero Endeavor had shown up to stop him. As imposing as All Might looks on TV, it hadn’t prepared you for what he’s like in person. 

Seven feet tall and change, muscled like a beast, blond hair swept back down his neck save for two unruly tufts that stuck up like rabbit ears. Nothing about him is timid, though. Utter confidence in his own power radiates off of him. 

“Yes, you!” He strolls towards you. His voice is muffled, metallic sounding underneath his iconic metal gas mask. Light glints off of the two orange glass pieces covering his eyes as he passes out of a shadow. No one has ever seen his face before, as far as you know. He’s never shown it in public, and who the hell knows who he associates with in his personal life. All Might having a personal life. What a bizarre concept. 

“Wh-what do you want?” You lift your chin, trying to sound defiant even though your voice betrays you. In a lull between the waves of fear, you realize you’re staring at his chest, his stomach, his legs. It’s a physique worth staring at. 

He shrugs, a strange gesture with his massive shoulders, then lifts a hand to his face, working at the fastenings of his mask. “I get asked that a lot.” He lowers the mask, lets it drop clattering to the ground, and you can’t believe what you’re seeing: All Might, face uncovered, and oh no he’s good looking. How is it fair that he’s attractive? Everyone speculated that he work the mask to hide a bad injury, or just because he’s ugly, but no. His features are handsome, symmetrical like a sculpture, with gleaming blue eyes and a wide, menacing smile that twists your fear into some other emotion you don’t quite recognize. “Entertainment, I guess.” 

Your pulse thuds in your ears. He couldn’t mean-- 

He reads your confusion. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” he sneers dismissively. “You think I have to resort to forcing myself on women? I have--” he gives you a pointed look up and down “--standards.”

That stings. “I’m not your entertainment!” You burst out, indignant. “And I would never do… that with- with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He prompts, all joviality gone. He’s still smiling, but it seems dangerous now. 

“A villain,” you spit. It’s hard to stop yourself from shaking. “You’re-- you’re evil and cruel and careless and--” you cut yourself short, realizing how foolish you’re being. 

He tilts his head, clearly amused by your attempt at bravery. “Let’s try again. Who are you? Tell me your quirk.” Without his mask, his voice is deep and enticing. Almost reassuring. He can sound normal when he wants, not like the cheesy, bombastic public persona. You have no idea what to make of him. Should you be running away? Or should you acknowledge the part of yourself that is inexplicably intrigued?

His unwavering attention on you is an unexpectedly heady feeling. Not that you aren’t scared-- you are-- but some strange part of you thrills at being the very center of his focus. His eyes do not leave you, even as you glance away, flustered and nervous.

He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Are you dumb, girl?” He winces suddenly, breaking off to clutch a huge hand to his left side, though he quickly covers it.  “What’s your quirk?”

“W-why?” Prying about quirks is rude, but All Might does what he wants and fuck everyone else.

“Most people want to see if they can get in a hit or two on me. I figure I’d head off the time wasting and tell you if your quirk has any chance.”

Your quirk. You can’t tell him. You absolutely can’t tell him. If he knew… “I’m quirkless.” Your tongue feels thick on the lie, your voice raspy.  

“Pathetic,” he chuckles, breaking into a cough. “You’re one of those. Useless.” 

“I’m not useless!” You insist hotly. You don’t want him to look away and dismiss you. He was right, though, it kind of was, but making value statements about others’ quirks or lack thereof is just as rude as prying. 

“Then again,” he muses, as if you hadn’t spoken, “your quirk isn’t you… and you are not your quirk. Maybe you have some worth after all.” 

Frustratingly, your heart lifts at the slightest hint of his approval. How ridiculous. He’s nothing to you. And yet… you’d been talking to him, and he talked back. There had been more than the persona. You let the silence sit, and it’s enough space to realize that you’re rather star struck. Figures. The first big time supe you meet is the number one villain, and he’s both better and worse than you expected. Meaning— he didn’t murder you on the spot, but he’s a total dick. 

“So, quirkless girl. Got a name?”

It feels like a bad bet telling him, but you do anyway and he repeats it before asking you slyly, “what about a hero name?”

Clever. He’s much smarter than the media gives him credit for. You almost replied with the name of your quirk, but manage to sound embarrassed about not having one: “please don’t rub it in.” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs in annoyance. There comes more wet coughing, and he pulls at his side again, the same spot. Mentioning it seems both stupid and futile. You still have no idea why he’s actually here, other than coincidence, and what he wants with you. You’re happy being nobody special and yet, the imperious way he’s looked at you in these brief few minutes— or has it been longer? Shorter? For some reason you don’t want him to stop paying attention to you. 

Then, to your utter shock, he starts coughing up blood. He puts his fist to his mouth and it comes away smeared red.

“Are you okay?” The question is a reflex. He ignores it. 

Tendrils of steam rise from him, like he’s a kettle at the boil. Before your eyes, All Might is replaced by someone else. It’s a bit much to comprehend, but your logical mind makes the connection quickly. Blood at the mouth, blond hair, and of course they’re wearing the same clothes. Though, the drab olive green pants, navy shirt, harness and spiked pauldrons hang off of his body like they would off of clothes hangers. Your analyst’s sense spins into overdrive. So many questions answered. If you brought proof of this back to work you’d get put in charge of the division. Hell, you could quit Masuda & Matsuo and start your own company with this information. And yet you can’t help but ask, and really mean it this time—

“Are you okay?” 

The gaunt man glares at you. “Fuck off.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“You’re irritating me.” His tone is pure acid. And still, you feel slightly bad for him. He wants none of your soft hearted platitudes. He coughs more, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You dig in your purse for a packet of tissues, and hold it out to him when you find it. “Here.”

His expression is all that’s needed for you to retract the offered tissues. You stay perfectly still watching him. He’s maybe half a foot shorter, and has terrible hunched posture, but it’s the same person, you’re sure. Which is the real All Might? Is there a real All Might? The number one villain’s identity, background, and quirk are the biggest unanswered questions of the past two decades. No one could say who he really was, or even if he looked like that all the time. 

Evidently not...

“... is it a transformation quirk?” You ask, willing your voice to be low and even, talking like you would to a scared, wounded animal.

Predictably, he lashes out, though you can’t help flinching. “You will not tell anyone about this. No one.” His eyes are unnaturally blue, almost glowing from deep set sockets. “Not your coworkers, not your friends when you go out drinking, not your fling, not your great aunt on her deathbed. No one.”

You find yourself agreeing. “No one. I promise. No one. But is it—“

“Be silent!” He snarls, getting right in your face before his tone takes on a silken quality. “Pathetic thing. You want to prove your worth, be silent. Stand where you are and do not speak.” He wipes blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand, letting his eyes drop, taking in your figure. He smirks. “Who knows. Maybe you’ll impress me. If I see any hint of this in the news, or online, I’ll know who to hunt down.” He repeats your name venomously. 

He turns and walks away. You do nothing. Say nothing. Don’t even twitch your fingers. 

That was All Might. The shock of the entire exchange floats and gradually settles, like silt in water. You don’t move, not even a step; your breath and heartbeat become calm once more. He had ordered you, after all, and he had, inexplicably, trusted you with a monumental secret. 

Had it really been him? Would the real All Might have done such a thing? You turn the thought over in your mind, fiddling with each piece of what you know. He’d certainly had the presence of villain. Deranged and volatile... and all too intriguing. His eyes are so blue.

You mentally scold yourself. Focus. Focus on what you actually know. You’d seen All Might on TV earlier in the day, trading blows with the flame hero Endeavor. What exactly had happened? All Might had been the aggressor, attacking Bando-Arata-Horikawa— your firm’s direct competition. You know people who work there, decent, average people. There hadn’t been any news about casualties, thank god. Endeavor had appeared shortly after the initial assault, slamming into All Might with a huge burst of power. The cameras on scene had caught it all, tracking the spectacle in real time, though it had been hard to follow. All Might was particularly enraged, turning his fury on Endeavor, and withstanding the huge gouts of flame like they were nothing more than a light breeze. 

Had he been breathing heavily then? Coughing blood? He hides injuries too well. The tussle with Endeavor earlier is hardly the first time All Might has taken some heavy punches. 

Shit, it’s cold out here. How long will you be standing here? All night? Your rational self asks the right questions. You should leave. Why the hell are you obeying him anyway? Likely he limped off, he won’t chase you. That was the real deal, you realize. Somewhere in the space of… how long?... you’d decided. He is. 

The uncomfortable press against your bladder grows heavier, even as you slip into an uneasy sleep where you stand, swaying slightly. That had been All Might, and you had not wanted him to send you away or discard you so thoughtlessly. 

Why hadn’t he touched you? This is a man who takes whatever he wants, does whatever he wants. He could have defiled you, or snapped your neck but he didn’t. The logical conclusion being that he doesn’t want you. You have nothing he wants. Why hadn’t he touched you? It’s an embarrassing sort of neediness that worms its way into your head as you’re standing there in the cold. Not good enough.  He really was right to call you pathetic. 

Stand where you are, do not speak. You yearn to prove him wrong. 

Hours later, he returns for the mask he’d left. His sudden arrival jolts you awake and still, you do not move. Only raise your nodding head, eyes bleary. He’s in the muscle form again.

“Still here?” He stops short when he notices you, a little incredulous. 

In a daze you regard him. 

“Tch. Run along home, little girl. The streets aren’t safe at night.” Do not color outside the lines. Remember, the edges are sharp. Too close and you’ll drop off. For the second time that night he turns away from you and you want to plead to him, to the number one villain, not to go.

link to part 2

[taexual]

HOLIC - 40 |  jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst

words: 5.2k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

           prev / next

The leisurely contract did entail a couple of rules – that Jiho was kind enough to point out before you added your signature – such as not attending any public events with anyone other than him during the “PR process” as he’d dramatically called it. To be fair, you didn’t understand that part – if making a name for yourself meant causing unnecessary rumors, then wouldn’t this whole process go much faster if you were seen with not one, but multiple people at photography events? But this was probably where the loyalty – mentioned in the contract a couple of dozen times – came in. They’d probably be okay if you went out with some of the other staff members from the gallery as long as they weren’t complete outsiders.

In the end, the few rules weren’t enough for you to call the police instead of signing the contract, and, another moment later, Jiho was already ordering champagne -- which you refused even if a few glasses would have surely helped you get through the rest of your day.

Your head hurt when you left the restaurant and returned to your own gallery to get back to work. You always dreaded the end of lunch break – it was probably natural for humans to hate having to go back to work – but this time, as you tip-toed on the edge of a new life, going back to work—returning to your old routine—was something you welcomed and even looked forward to.

Avoiding a group of children on tour with their teacher, you popped into the staff room for a moment to grab your electronics and take your jacket off, and then replied to Jaebum’s text that was inquiring about your plans tonight. You had none. You just wanted to sleep until you were miraculously hosting your exhibition while Jaebum’s album played in the background and all was well.

Deep inside, though, you were hoping Jaebum was going to say something that would make you forget your wish to hibernate for the rest of your life. He wanted to say something like that, too – and if he’d known how you were feeling, he would have – but he had a different obligation now; an obligation that he apologized for – because he couldn’t invite you with him, – but an obligation nonetheless.

The agency he’d just signed with had invited him and Jackson out for dinner and celebratory drinks later. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t have asked him not to go there. This dinner was probably as important as the first meeting itself; Jaebum was given even more chances to impress his new employers. It was good. It would make sure that his road towards success wasn’t just a sandy path, but rather a solid highway that was able to endure any storm and hurricane that might threaten it.

With a heavy sigh, you turned around to return to work but not before checking in with your friends. It was unfair of you to rely on Jaebum so much, anyway, so, to avoid truly locking yourself up in your room for the foreseeable future, you were going to need someone to keep you company and, perhaps, tell you if the decision you’d made—the contract you’ve signed—was a mistake or not.

You’d texted your friends’ groupchat, looking for company but, as always, May – the youngest – was the only one who was free to get drunk on a Tuesday night. And, as if she had some magical telepathic powers, she immediately offered her listening services. Although, to be fair, the number of crying emojis you’d used when texting her might have been a huge hint.

Smiling at May’s eager approval to meet up tonight, you took a mental note to be a better friend to your friends – you suddenly weren’t sure if they were so independent that they just never needed your help, or if you just weren’t there for them, – and headed back out into the gallery, ready to spend the rest of the day focusing on crowds of children, high university students, and snobby customers. Somehow, all of that still put you in a better mood than the lunch you’ve had with Jiho earlier.

For the first time since Jaebum introduced you to Mark, you managed to show up to his bar when he wasn’t working. You shot him a quick text while you waited for May to show up and learned that he was going to work today, after all, but his shift wouldn’t start until nine. That left you plenty of time to get drunk before he got here.

Somehow, even though you knew Mark much shorter than you knew the rest of your friends, he had become one of the most reliable people in your life – but, then again, perhaps, being reliable was one of the traits every bartender had to have. Still aware of Jaebum’s strong reaction about your and Mark’s friendship back in the day – even if Jaebum did change his mind later on – you weren’t brave enough to openly address the bartender as your friend but, in spite of everything, he still felt like one.

“Hey, I’m here!” May’s rushed voice was suddenly by your ear as your friend leaned in for a quick hug and sat down on the stool next to yours. “I might have just escaped a serial killer on my way over here.”

You never knew with May – she tended to exaggerate – but your eyes still widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I called a cab,” she began to explain after making eye contact with the bartender-on-duty and earning a nod from him, “and the driver turned out to be the creepiest man I’ve ever seen. I swear, he’s Freddy Krueger’s long-lost brother. Even looked a little like him. He asked me when I was going to go home and if he should pick me up as if that’s something that normal taxi drivers do.”

“Shit, I hope he’s not waiting for you outside of the bar.”

“No, no, I waited until he drove away,” May said, still breathing heavily. She looked like she’d sprinted over here. “Otherwise, I would have called the police.”

“You need to get a license,” you reprimanded her for the umpteenth time.

“I do,” she admitted like she always did. “But, then again, what would I do with it? I’d only use it to drive to class and back.”

“Hey, I only use mine to drive to work,” you replied. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, but, hey, speaking of driving,” May smiled and then was forced to pause when the bartender came over to take your orders and make you your drinks. “You’ve got yourself a chauffeur for a boyfriend. That’s cute.”

“He’s not my chauffeur,” you shook your head, having nothing against the particular occupation and yet feeling as if calling Jaebum your chauffeur was offensive. You didn’t really pay him for his services—although…—so it sounded like you were using him.

“I want to ask how the roadtrip went,” she stopped to take a sip of her martini. Her love for gin was unrivaled. “But, since we’re drinking tonight, I guess, it didn’t go that well.”

You sighed, toying with the slice of lemon on the side of your cocktail glass. “No, it went well. Really well, actually. It’s… it’s what happened after that’s forcing me to turn to alcohol.”

“Did you fight again?”

“No. But that’s in the future, I’m sure.”

And then you told her about everything that happened after you opened the door of that damn gallery – a true devil’s lair protected by the remarkably pleasant administrators – starting from the surprise you felt when you saw that Jiho was the one who’d made sure you got the interview, and finishing with the meeting you’ve had to endure earlier today.

Of course, as you spoke, you ended up having to take detours from the main story and introduce May to Jiho – since, by a weird coincidence, she wasn’t aware of what had gone down between you two – but you felt like you’ve lost twenty kilograms of weight off your shoulders when you finished talking.

May listened patiently, not moving at all – aside from tipping her head back to finish her drink in one big gulp as soon as you wrapped the story up.

“That’s one big load of information,” she admitted, her head bursting with so many new facts. “That was extremely unlucky. I’m sorry. Did a black cat cross your road every morning for the past week?”

You scoffed. “No. That’s what I get for daring to consider myself blessed to get that interview with the gallery in the first place. There’s no such thing as—”

“No, that was blessed,” May said. “Even if it’s Jiho who sought you out. I mean… I don’t know. I don’t like the guy, either. Anyone who doesn’t mind the negative image of themselves in the media is suspicious to me but maybe getting some exposure won’t be that bad.”

“But unlike him, I do care about my image,” you continued pointlessly.

The contract was signed, there wasn’t really a way to back out now. And yet you kept on talking as if hoping to hear comforting words. As if hoping to hear May tell you that you hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of your life.

“I get that,” she said. “It’s why you’ve hesitated before signing the contract, isn’t it? Because this sounds ideal. I know I’m supposed to become an architect after I graduate but, hell, if I got an offer like that, I’d agree to switch to photography.”

You have her a sarcastic look. “Want to trade places?”

May scoffed. “As if you’d ever allow that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You didn’t really agree to do this for yourself,” she concluded. “You mostly agreed for Jaebum.”

“What?” you frowned, feigning confusion even though your heart had picked up speed, catching on faster than your mind did. “I don’t understand—”

“You understand very well,” she cut you off with a shake of her head. “I can see right through you, you know.”

You knew. Of course, you knew. Even strangers would have been able to tell what you were feeling but May was one of your closest friends – not to mention, she was the kind of person that would have been able to crack the toughest spine of the most complicated book. If she was the one who’d moved in with Jaebum, she’d have gotten him to open up in just a few days, guaranteed.

“You signed the contract because he signed his,” May concluded. “Isn’t that right?”

“Well…” you looked away, swallowing. “It may have encouraged me. But I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for myself.”

“No, but you mean photography,” she said. “You’re doing photography for yourself. You’re thinking of hosting an exhibition for yourself. But you’re agreeing to work with Jiho for Jaebum. Because this isn’t something that you’d do. You’re going to have to pretend to be Jiho’s friend, his colleague, and whatever the hell the media assumes you are – and pretending to be someone you’re not is not something you’d do voluntarily. You’re just not good at that.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly.

May gave you a kind smile in return. “You’re good at being yourself, sweetheart.”

Somehow, even though she was younger than you, the endearing term softened your heart. It also made you feel like you were the younger one but that wasn’t a new feeling. If you caught May at the right moment – that is, a glass of martini in hand and a suffering friend by her side – she was wise beyond her years.

“Everything is going so well for him,” you couldn’t help but say, the words pouring out of your chest faster than you could learn how to stop them. They sounded stupid when said aloud and yet you still said them because that was what you were feeling and feelings didn’t always make sense. “I don’t want him to feel like he’s leaving me behind when he starts to make it and I’m still stuck in the same place.”

May nodded – that was what she’d suspected all along – and, after ordering another round of drinks – even if you were still only halfway done with yours – she placed a reassuring arm around your shoulders, leaning over the bartop to be closer to you.

“There will be other opportunities in the future if you’d prefer to wait,” she said softly. “You’re talented.”

“Yeah, but there are lots of talented people,” you replied. “I’m nothing special.”

“You—”

“Oh, May, it’s your job to call me special,” you interrupted before she could say anything, “you’re my friend.”

May retreated, smiling playfully. “I wasn’t going to call you special.”

“Oh,” you looked at her, surprise and embarrassed anger mixing in your blood. “Well, you should have. That’s the nice thing to do.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be listening to me if I’d come here to tell you nice things,” she pointed out.

She was right but you still sighed, “I’m not sure I prefer the cold hard truth right now, to be honest.”

“You’re just going to have to deal with it,” she decided and then proceeded to tell you all that you needed to hear and more, “your own attitude towards this is exactly what’s the problem. You don’t think you’re special and that’s why you’re agreeing to do this. You need to sit down, convince yourself that you’re the most extraordinary person in this whole world and any gallery would be lucky to have you. You don’t have to do it this way. And then, once you’ve managed to convince yourself, you can drop Jiho, forget all about him and his half-assed attempts to get you both popularity, and go home to make love to your singer boyfriend.”

You shuddered, giving her the most disgusted expression you could muster even though your chest was full of nothing but gratitude.

“I was going to say you should be a motivational speaker,” you said, the first traces of a smile appearing on your face, “but I’m afraid you just made me cringe into the next year.”

“Come on, I’m serious,” May continued but she was beginning to smile, too. “Have a little more faith in yourself. I know it’s easier said than done but if you’re not going to work on your confidence, then you might as well just go through with this whole ordeal. Maybe having your first exhibition – under whatever circumstances – will open your eyes so you can see how wonderful of an artist you are.”

Her words got you to quit playing with the sad slice of lemon on your drink and finish the cocktail inside of the glass instead.

“I thought you weren’t going to be nice and would hit me with the cold truth,” you told your friend then.

“I am hitting you with the cold truth,” May replied. “You’re a good person and a great photographer. Do whatever it takes to prove that to yourself.”

She was right, of course. Before you proved your worth to everyone else, you needed to prove it to yourself. You’ve helped Jaebum out of his seemingly bottomless pit of insecurities about his music, but you were drowning in a similar pit yourself. You weren’t alone, though. You had your friends who were there to throw you a rope in case the deep water of your anxiety threatened to swallow you whole and, if you’d just told Jaebum about this, you knew he’d be here for you, too.

But he had so much going on already. He’d just released his first song. Just signed his first contract. Just went to his first formal dinner with his new employers. He was already riding on the highway to his future while you hitchhiked, hoping that a passing car would pick you up and help you follow after him. You didn’t like this way – you didn’t want to depend on anyone on your way to your dreams – but, right now, this seemed to be the only way to get to your destination at the same time as Jaebum got to his. Not years – or, worse, decades – later.

You’d just have to find a way to believe in yourself while you tore out a few pieces of your soul to be able to follow Jiho around without killing him on sight.

“Will you have my back if everything backfires and all that I’ve worked for explodes in my face?” you asked May then.

“No,” she replied, “because I don’t want to get burnt, too.”

You rolled your eyes just as the bartender brought you a new round of drinks. “A true friend you are.”

“I will visit you in the hospital, though,” May promised. “I’ll bring flowers.”

You laughed. For the first time since you’ve left the house today, you genuinely laughed. And you were suddenly overwhelmed with affection for your friend because, for the first time since that visit to the gallery, now you felt like you weren’t committing a huge, horrible crime. Perhaps you just needed to talk to someone and, having May listen to you and reassure you in the most realistic words she could manage to find, worked as a medicine of sorts.

You still felt a thick heaviness inside of your chest – you didn’t need just anyone to talk to; really, you needed Jaebum – but it didn’t feel so suffocating anymore. Maybe, as long as your mind remained on this moment, you’d survive this.

“You look like you’re going to start crying,” May observed, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Should I be worried about something else?”

“No,” you shook your head, inhaling deeply and then giving her a smile. “I’m just glad you’re here. Tell me how school is going. Fewer asshole professors this semester, I hope?”

“Oh, boy,” May rolled her eyes before finishing her cocktail and breaking into a story about her day-to-day life, never once abandoning her sense of humor as she complained about her deadlines.

You listened, nodding along and smiling whenever it was appropriate, because listening to her talk wasn’t just a wonderful distraction. It was also something you truly wanted to do.

A couple of hours later, both you and May were already preparing to head out but then you saw Mark arrive. Deciding to stay back for a few moments to help him get started on his shift – he asked you to, claiming that the biggest bartender superstition was that, if no one ordered a drink within ten minutes of the start of their shift, the night wasn’t going to go well – you waved May goodbye and then walked her out to wait for the cab with her so the creepy driver from before wouldn’t show up again.

Once you went back inside, however, Mark was already pouring a drink for someone else.

“Looks like you don’t need me, after all,” you joked, sitting down in your old spot.

“No, but it looks like you need me,” he countered. “How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. Why?”

“You don’t look drunk in the slightest,” he said. “The only people who stay at a bar for this long and don’t get drunk are either psychopaths or people who are suffering from something that’s way beyond the superficial level. I’d say you’re sane enough, so which kind of existential crisis are we dealing with tonight?”

“Bartender sociology 101, huh?” you teased but after Mark showed no signs of playing along – he genuinely wanted to know what was going on with you – you ended up having to find a way to tell him all that you’ve just told May.

Except, Mark was Jaebum’s friend. You felt bad telling his friend about Jiho before you told him, but you’ve stumbled into a situation where the opposite wasn’t possible, considering that you didn’t have enough courage to run away from the bar and find Jaebum right this moment, and Mark obviously wasn’t going to let you leave unless you told him what was up first.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you admitted, still hesitant. “Because I haven’t talked to Jaebum about it.”

“I’m a bartender,” Mark said. “No one keeps secrets as well as I do.”

“No, of course, but—”

“Are you pregnant?”

You paused. “No.”

“Then we have no problem with you telling me first,” he shrugged. “Especially if it’s a loaded conversation that you’re not prepared to have with him yet.”

“It is,” you confirmed. “A-and, actually, maybe you could help me find a way to tell him about this.”

Mark wasn’t sure he would – apparently, he struggled with talking to Jaebum as much as you did sometimes – but he allowed you to open up anyway. He did have to ask you to pause for a moment while he poured drinks for the other customers, but, other than that, he listened to the story of your trip to Jiho’s gallery with great interest. A concerned expression remained on his face all throughout your monologue.

Once you’d finished, you expected Mark to give you a lecture – the look on his face was indecipherable by the time you mentioned signing the contract – but, instead, he just sighed, finished wiping the bartop, and leaned on it on his elbows.

“I don’t think you’re doing anything that’s inherently wrong,” he spoke but the slight shake in his voice was a subtle indication that he didn’t think he should have been saying that. “It’s just a somewhat conflicting way to start off your career, but, look – at least, you’re not sleeping with anyone.”

“I’d never do that,” you shook your head. “I have my limits.”

“Well, see? Then I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, pulling away. “You only have to show up at a few events and then you can host your exhibition. That’s what you’ve been working for and that’s what you will get to do.”

“Yes, but it’s Jiho I’m supposed to show up to those events with.”

Mark considered this.

“Don’t think of it like that,” he said after a moment. “I mean, you and him are both photographers, right? So, even if you weren’t going to go out with him in public, you would probably still run into him at some event sooner or later. And, since you know each other, chances are, he would come over to talk to you. You would have to be civil since you’re both in a public place. And maybe reporters would catch you two talking. Maybe one particularly shitty journalist would even snap a picture and write an article about a-a ‘budding love affair’ between two aspiring photographers. These type of things happen without your consent all the time.”

He had a good point that left you hesitating for so long, Mark ended up having to leave you alone for another moment so he could serve a new customer.

“This feels different, though,” you said once he was back, “because now I’m purposefully waiting for that shitty journalist to do just that.”

“It’s for the greater good,” Mark said. “Or, rather, for a greater future.”

You chewed on your lip. “You really think so?”

For the first time since you’ve finished your story, Mark was the one hesitating before replying. Your stomach sunk lower and lower with every second that passed before he spoke again.

“Not really,” he admitted finally, lifting his apologetic gaze from the floor to look at you, “but that’s not what you want to hear.”

“No, no, don’t tell me what I want to hear,” you asked as a typhoon of anxiety washed over your insides. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I think you should talk to Jaebum.”

You should have seen it coming.

“Yeah?” you asked awkwardly.

“Mmhmm,” Mark nodded. “Because I don’t think that this way of getting your name out there is bad in itself. The bad thing is you keeping this a secret from Jaebum. That makes this into a bigger deal than it really is.”

That was true. If things hadn’t escalated so badly – if you hadn’t reached a point where Jaebum seemed to hate Jiho with a burning passion – he might have even supported you through this. Perhaps he wouldn’t approve – he did showcase some relatively possessive tendencies, although they never bordered on the extreme – but he wouldn’t dismiss just the very thought of you doing this.

“He would never agree to it,” you decided miserably. “He’d never let me do it.”

Mark seemed surprised to hear this. “Does he control you?”

“W-well, no. Of course not,” you said, unsure how to explain what you meant. “I-I… I just—I care about him a lot and I don’t want to fight with him.”

“If this is something that’s going to start a fight,” he said, “then maybe there’s something wrong.”

You didn’t understand what he meant. “With… with us?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “You tell me.”

You looked down. Deep down, you knew what he meant. In any hypothetical situation, if there was something that one person wanted to keep from another, it was likely that this thing – this secret – involved the first person doing something that wasn’t right. Wasn’t appropriate. Something that would damage their relationship.

Your head was suddenly as heavy as your heart was.

“I can’t tell you anything,” you answered. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You signed the contract, didn’t you?” Mark asked, his voice more sympathetic when he noticed how dull your normally bright eyes looked. “Just try to go through with it. Like Jiho had said, it’s a business relationship and you have the legal papers to prove that if you should ever need to.”

You looked up at him. “You mean… prove that to Jaebum?”

“I mean, if you’re not going to tell him, and you’re hoping that this will just pass quietly—”

“I’m not sure it will. We’re talking about the media, after all—”

“Oh, love, don’t get offended,” Mark shook his head, not letting you finish, “but I don’t know a single person who would be interested in news about photographers aside from other photographers. I couldn’t care less about who Tyler Mitchell is dating or what he does in his free time – I only care about the pictures of Beyonce that he took – but Jackson was here the other day, trying to get me interested in that photographer-related gossip because he’d met Mitchell while traveling and the guy was, apparently, holding hands with someone.”

You felt your own interest in this conversation increase tenfold at the mention of the photographer’s name but Mark was obviously not going to elaborate – he nearly yawned just as he was giving you the abbreviated version – so you just nodded instead.

“You have a point,” you said, suddenly feeling the first bits of relief. “News like that probably wouldn’t even reach Jaebum.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes, asking slowly, “are you considering not telling him at all?”

Honesty was painful now as you replied, “I don’t know.”

“Okay, good,” he said, his voice rushed as if he was afraid you’d continue talking before he finished. “Don’t tell me what you decide then. I’ve already gotten more involved than I’m comfortable. I can’t support your decision not to tell him because he’s one of my closest friends, but, at the same time, this isn’t my story to tell. I’ll be quiet about this but... I don’t think you should be.”

“Yeah, I understand,” you said, awkward now that you’ve realized you’ve stepped over the line. “I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind listening to you,” Mark said. “Sorry I couldn’t help you with much, though. I’m afraid this is something that you have to do on your own. If you find the right words to explain what you’re doing, Jaebum will understand. You just have to believe in yourself and stop looking like you’ve killed three people on your way home to talk to him. Have more confidence.”

“More confidence,” you repeated, almost scoffing. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

“It’s the truth,” he said. “Jaebum always talks about how talented you are. And he recognizes art, he’s not saying that just because he’s into you.”

Your heart banged against your ribcage, reminding you yet again about how much you cared about Jaebum. About how special it made you feel to know that he was talking about you to his friends.

“I hope you get to host your own exhibition,” Mark added before you could stand up and dial Jaebum’s phone number. “I really do.”

Hearing that meant a lot and you felt your lips stretch into a smile. “So, you don’t think I’m selling my soul to the devil by trying to get it this way?”

“No,” Mark laughed. “I just think you’re very dedicated since you’re willing to give up so much for your goal.”

You couldn’t help but find his words ambiguous. You feared to think of what else – aside from your dignity – you were unconsciously willing to give up for your ambition, but you didn’t ask him to explain what he’d meant. You didn’t dare.

“You know, it’s extremely refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t immediately assume the worst of me,” you said instead.

“Who immediately assumes the worst of you?” Mark asked.

“Me.”

“Ah,” he nodded with a chuckle and then clocked a group of customers that had just arrived. “Hold on for just a moment.”

You nodded, using this time to check your phone. The screen was decorated with multiple texts from Jaebum – most of them seemed excited as he told you about the divine food that the agency dinner had served – but it also showed that it was nearly ten o’clock already. You hadn’t planned to stay here for this long; you still had to work tomorrow, not to mention the mess of thoughts inside of your mind you’d have to deal with even before your alarm rang the next morning.

“Thinking of leaving?” Mark asked when he returned and caught you putting your jacket on.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve stayed far longer than I should have. Thank you for listening to me and for being so open-minded. You’re a great person, Mark.”

He laughed, the comment clearly flustering him. “Must be the reason why I’m single.”

“Oh, you’re going to make a great partner for someone one day,” you said, your mind flashing back to him and Kiera. You were suddenly glad you weren’t drunk or you would have brought your friend up and you didn’t think you were in the right position to talk about them together. “Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you. It’s just me who’s stupid; apparently, I like my men complicated.

“Men?” Mark cocked an eyebrow.

You smiled at this. “You’re right. It’s just him.”

Mark stopped cleaning the glass he was holding to give you a serious look. “You like him a lot, don’t you?”

“I…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence and Mark was quick to notice that as a big smile spread from one of his ears to the other.

“What?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Is that not the right word anymore?”

“Oh, shut up,” you got up from your stool, looking down to avoid having him see your embarrassed face.

Mark laughed again, recalling the same exact words that Jaebum had said to him when he asked him the same thing.

“It’s okay,” he said, sending a mischievous wink your way when you looked at him again. “I happen to know that he feels the same way about you.”

     chapter directory

[renlimotroll]

Call It What You Want To (part 1)

Warnings: BL/ Personification/ Imagination/ EXTREMELY OUT OF CHARACTER

Tags: LimoSiruMin Neighbor AU, toddler Ichihachi, Baby Jiraichan and Baby Quartet

Summary: Siruko has two new neighbors, and he does the only thing he can’t do. He falls in love with them.

A/N: For the sake of the story, it’s a world where boys’ love is accepted, but polyamory isn’t quite the norm. Of course anything in the story wouldn’t reflect reality in any way, are you kidding me. Please don’t take it too seriously, it’s just my imagination. I just wanted to stress-write. Don’t read if it will only make you cringe. Thank you. You have been warned. 🍋🐶🤖

Chapter 1

Siruko held the tiny hands with his fingers, and his heart just swells up everytime he looks at them. He was finally able to put down Quartetchi and Jiraichan to sleep, and Siruko’s not being biased here, but they’re the cutest babies in the world. At thirteen months old, both babies show signs of intelligence and good motor skills, but Siruko doesn’t care about that. All he wants is for them to grow up healthy and happy.

Something tugs his shirt, and Siruko looks down to see the other reason for his living. Three-year-old Ichihachi timidly hands him the book they’ve been reading the night before. Sometimes he can’t believe how fast Ichihachi is growing and wants time to stop just for a little while, just so his little boy can still stay little for a short while.

The years haven’t been easy for Siruko. Three years ago, his ex-girlfriend left Ichihachi to him and ran away with the guy she’s been cheating on him with, which happens to be Ichihachi’s father. Siruko doesn’t really care; frankly, the girl only used him for his money, and he can’t say he loved her that much. It was really hard taking care of a baby all by himself, but Ichihachi was the best thing that ever happened to him. He had always wanted kids, and though it was a little bit early, it was fine. As far as the world knows, Ichihachi is his child, and he loves him so much he’ll give him the world and more.

Then, two years later, he found two babies in an abandoned basket behind the garbage dump. He would have missed it; the babies weren’t crying or anything. It was Ichihachi who led him to them, when Siruko for a moment took his eyes off of him to tie his own shoe lace. Ichihachi liked cats, and he followed one on his own, to the best his small toddler legs can take him. Siruko almost had a panic attack when he looked up and didn’t see him, until he saw the brown scarf he wrapped him with trailing on the ground. He snagged the small boy immediately and hugged him; his heart rapidly beating within his ribcage, afraid to lose his son. Ichihachi, of course, oblivious to Siruko’s worry, just patted his cheek to get his attention and mumbled, “Touchan, touchan.” He followed the direction where Ichihachi’s small finger was pointing, to find two small babies wrapped in gray and pink blankets. His chest hurt seeing them abandoned like this, how could anyone just abandon their children? Siruko sighed to himself; if he didn’t get any answer to that from Ichihachi’s mother, then he sure won’t get it here in the garbage dump. After checking that the babies were not hurt or anything, he called the authorities. The babies cooed at him adorably and even grinned gummily at him. Siruko knew there and then that he had to adopt them, no matter what it takes. His heart was already captivated, and with a few favors and pulling strings and money throwing here and there, in six months he was able to take them home. He learned that the two babies were not related, and Siruko promised to give them a home and a family.

Sure it was tough, but it was also rewarding. Siruko was really happy. It would be nice to have a companion, a partner, but that seems impossible now that he doesn’t have time for dating, and no one really wants a man with three kids as a baggage. He’s content with his children though, and sometimes his friends, brother and parents come to help him. He’s really at a good place in his life, in a nice apartment building in a small, old city.

Apparently, said apartment building has new occupancy. Both his neighbors to the left and right of his unit were leaving, and Siruko was a bit sad because they were really nice people. He just hoped the new neighbors would be understanding of the noises his children make, not that they make a ruckus though. Ichihachi is an angel, and both Quartet and Jiraichan rarely cry, except when other people hold them. His children are the best, no bias there. Plus, the units have pretty thick walls anyway.

One evening, when the babies have finally settled down and he has read Ichihachi’s bedtime story, after spending a little time watching his kids sleep (so cute), Siruko stretched and yawned. He still has some work to do, so, after taking the baby monitor and turning on Ichihachi’s cat night lamp, he went to his work space so he can open his laptop and check his notifications.

Or he would, had there not been a knock on the door. Siruko glanced at the clock and wondered who in the world would knock on his door at midnight.

Groaning internally and checking quickly to look if he’s wearing something decent (a red shirt and really short black shorts, oops), he trudged his way to the door, hoping his irritation didn’t show in his face.

Opening the door revealed a tall man with glasses, short green hair and emerald eyes. Really striking emerald eyes. Oh. Wow.

Said man smiled a little and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Hi. Sorry we had to meet this way, I’m Mintosu.” He bowed slightly and Siruko came back to senses and remembered, right, manners, and mirrored the bow a bit lower.

“I’m your new neighbor, just came in two days ago. Hadn’t had the chance to greet anyone yet because I was busy unpacking. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, don’t worry about it.” Siruko replied, clearing his throat afterwards. He sounded so hoarse and tired, yikes. Wait, since when did he care about his voice? “I’m Siruko. I have three kids, so I’m apologizing in advance for any racket.”

“Oh! Of course, it’s no big deal. Kids are cute.” Mintosu grinned again, and Siruko blinked. That’s… really distracting.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’ve got any coffee left? I really need to finish some work and it’s my unlucky day coz I ran out and it’s midnight, I forgot to check out where the supermarkets are in the area and I wasn’t sure where the convenience stores are too.” The man spoke really fast and slurred his words together, so it took a second for Siruko to process what his new neighbor was saying, but really, his voice sounds really nice. Siruko won’t mind listening to it again and again.

“Ah! Coffee! Right!” Siruko startled out of his thoughts and went to the kitchen, fetching the extra bag he had. He handed it to his new neighbor, fingers brushing accidentally. 

Mintosu’s beam grew wider. “Thanks! Appreciate it! I owe u one!”

“No problem!”

“It was really nice to meet you.” The man said earnestly before he left. “Hope I can see you and the kids around soon.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Siruko smiled pleasantly. He watched Mintosu go back to his own apartment to the right, bowing slightly as they caught gazes again. His new neighbor seems really nice, he thought, as he closed the door and went back to work.

Two weeks later, Siruko bumped into his second new neighbor in the elevator. His brother Hakotaro was watching the kids as he ran a few errands and picked up the groceries. He couldn’t really see anything from the huge paper bag he was hugging and the several plastic bags hanging from his arms, so it was more of a feeling that he hit someone.

“I’m sorry!”

“Need any help there?” A deep, frankly quite sexy voice asked. Siruko wasn’t even able to respond when the paper bag he was clutching tightly was gently pulled by someone, and the weight disappeared. As his view cleared, a man with gorgeous light blue locks appeared in front of him. He was wearing piercings, but he was also wearing a suit. What.. what is it with meganes lately? Why does Siruko find them attractive so suddenly? Where are they all coming from?

“T-thank you.” Siruko bowed as deeply as he could.

“Don’t mention it. I’m Limone, by the way. My friends call me ‘Sensei’. You can call me that too.” The man chuckled. His eyes were a beautiful shade of cerulean and it was really captivating.

“I’m Siruko. I haven’t seen you here before, are you visiting someone?”

“Oh, actually I’m new here! I just arrived yesterday, and today my moving-in gifts just arrived so I’ll drop them by your place tomorrow. Sorry I can’t personally give them, I have a meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. Welcome to the building.”

The elevator dinged open, and they both tried to step out, surprising each other, their arms brushing. Limone-sensei stepped back to let Siruko through first, and Siruko thought, wow he’s a gentleman too.

“Umm… by the way, are you the Siruko? The youtuber?”

“Ahh…” Siruko sighed deeply, forcing a smile. “Yep, that’s me.”

Limone-sensei turned serious. “Hey, I won’t tell anyone, I promise, don’t worry.” He seemed sincere enough, so Siruko smiles genuinely this time. “I watched some of your videos and I thought I recognized your voice. But say… what are you doing in a simple apartment building like this?”

“Ah, well… Used to share it with ex-gf until she ran away with someone else, the usual story.” Shiruko shrugged.

Sensei shook his head lightly. “Tsk. That’s the worst. She doesn’t deserve you anyway.” Siruko had to chuckle at that. They arrived at his apartment, and he fished for his keys.

“Oh, Um… looks like we’re neighbors. I live to your left.”

“Really? That’s a nice coincidence. By the way, I’m apologizing in advance for the noise. I have three kids, 2 babies and a toddler.”

“Oh yeah?” Sensei looked excited. “I like babies. They’re so cute.”

Siruko was finally able to unlock the door, so Sensei gave him back the paper bag. “It was nice to meet you, Siruko-san!”

“Likewise! Thanks for carrying my groceries, Sensei!” The man waved as he strolled back to his own apartment. Okay, Siruko now has two hot, really nice neighbors. What in the world is happening?

“I saw your landlord Oshin-san a while ago. He said you have new neighbors?” His friend Gzira asked while helping Ichihachi change into his outdoor clothes. For some reason, the toddler really likes wearing scarves, so Gzira wrapped the young boy in a yellow one today.

“Un! I talked to them, they’re really nice!” Siruko commented while double-checking the diaper bag. The two babies were in the stroller, babbling at each other in baby language.

Gzira had to do a double-take. “Wait, you talked to people not me and your brother?”

Siruko frowned. “Hey, I’m perfectly capable of talking to other people!”

“Yeah, your subscribers, two babies who can’t even form words, and a toddler who knows maybe about 20 words do count as an engaging conversation.”

“Why am I friends with you?” The purple head sulked.

Gzira laughed that really contagious laugh of him. “Didn’t we establish that it’s because you don’t really talk to other people?”

Siruko stuck out his tongue at his friend, not that it really helped him prove his point. Ichihachi giggled adorably at his otouchan. “To my left is Limone-sensei. He helped me with groceries and he has piercings but he wears suits. He’s really nice. To my right, his name is Mintosu but he said I can call him Minben-san, and he gave me back really delicious coffee when he ran out and I gave him my extra. They’re both meganes and really handsome.”

Gzira blinked and stared at him strangely. “What?” Siruko paused his rambling.

“Handsome?” Gzira asked, laughter in his voice. He even waggled his eyebrows to tease.

“Oh, shut up.” Siruko glared at his friend. “Yeah yeah, my two new nice neighbors are hot, but they wouldn’t want to do anything with me, the lonely guy with 3 kids to raise.”

Gzira sighed. “Siruko-san, don’t talk about yourself like that. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have you! You’re smart, attractive, and really kind.”

Siruko smiled sadly. “Thanks, Gzira-kun.” He made one last final check. “Okay, who’s ready to go to the park?”

“Look, Quartetchi, the airplane is coming!” Siruko made engine noises and tried to feed the baby the mashed sweet potato, but the gray baby stubbornly turned his head away. “C'mon, Quartetchi! Jiraichan ate it just fine! Look, it’s delicious!” Siruko made the show of eating it, gagging slightly at the texture. Quartetchi pounded the table with his chubby fist and cackled at that.

Siruko mock-glared. “Sometimes I think you’re just messing with me on purpose, my cute yankee baby.” Quartetchi just blew him raspberries and laughed at his own spit flying. Jiraichan gurgled.

He heard a knock on the door and sighed. The babies look at him curiously. “This battle isn’t over.”

He opened the door to see a smiling Mintosu. “Oh, hi Minben-san!” Siruko greeted.

“Hey,” the green-haired man greeted back. “Some of your mail was dropped in my mailbox, so I thought I’d give it back. Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed again, and Siruko felt the electricity. Just then, peals of laughter came from the kitchen, and Siruko smiled fondly despite himself.

“Were those the babies?” Mintosu asked curiously, reflecting Siruko’s smile. “Ah, your wife must be there too.”

“Oh nonono, I don’t have a wife. Just the single dad, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Hmm..” Mintosu nodded, considering. He seemed to perk up at Siruko’s words, though the purplehead doesn’t have any idea why.

Just then, they heard the sound of a door opening and they both looked. “Oh hey, Siruko-san!” Sensei greeted cheerfully, then frowned upon seeing the guy in front of purplehead. “Mintosu-san.”

Mintosu seemed to deflate a little too, glaring slightly. “Sensei.”

Siruko blinked at the sudden hostility and cold atmosphere between the two guys.“What’s up, Sensei?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And you? The kids?”

“My eldest currently hates me because I tried to bathe him, and I’m negotiating with the babies over mashed vegetables, but everything’s fine! Thanks!”

Both meganes chuckled at him, and Siruko blinked. He wasn’t that funny.

“Listen, I gotta go to work, but it was lovely seeing you, Siruko-san.” Sensei smiled at him, then grunted to the other. “See ya pal.”

“Yeah.”

When Sensei left, Siruko asked tentatively. “So… you and Sensei are not… fond of each other?”

Mintosu sighed. “We’ve been really good friends for a long time actually. We just have an… ongoing disagreement.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah…” The green guy pursed his lips in thought. “Both of us… want the same thing. Classic jealousy trope, you can say. It’s hard to explain.”

“Ah,” Siruko nodded, understanding. “I hope you two figure it out!”

Mintosu eyed him thoughtfully. “Me too.”

The next day, there was another knock on his door. Siruko has never gotten this many knocks on his door before.

“Hey, sorry to disturb you. I just… I think I baked too many cookies so I thought I’d share some.” Sensei smiled sheepishly, holding out a bag of cookies which looked really delicious.

Before Siruko could answer, Ichihachi appeared out of nowhere and clutched his legs. The boy must have heard cookies and came as quickly as he could.

“Is this Ichihachi-kun?” Sensei crouched so he could talk to the toddler. “Hey buddy, my name is Limone-sensei, nice to meet you! You want some cookies?” The blue guy handed him the bag gently. Ichihachi looked up to Siruko first for approval, then shyly took the bag. “Fank you tente~”, he tiptoed to peck the cheek of the teacher. Sensei broke out a large smile at that and patted the boy’s head. “Sure buddy!”

When Ichihachi ran back to the living room, Sensei stood up. “He’s so cute, Siruko-san. He must have you wrapped around his finger.”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” Suddenly, a cry rang out within the room, and Siruko panicked. “Matte yo, Sensei!” And he dashed to the nursery.

Jiraichan was crying because he just woke up, and Siruko sighed in relief. Lately, the baby was fussy because he was teething. He quickly tried to snatch Jiraichan up so that Quartetchi won’t wake up, but it was too late. Quartetchi started crying when he saw his brother crying.

“Right, good morning everyone. Hai hai, I’ll go get some milk.”

“Sorry, Ichihachi dragged me in. Are those babies?” Sensei said, making Siruko jump a little. He had honestly forgotten he was talking to Sensei earlier. “Ah, do you need some help? I can carry one of them, I know how to hold and everything.”

“Aaah, jyaa, can you hold Jiraichan for a second? I’ll just go get the bottles.” Siruko handed him the pink baby, who stopped crying when he saw Sensei. Siruko was actually nervous inside, anticipating the reaction of the baby while he got Quartetchi out of the crib and calmed him down.

Sensei bounced the baby twice in his arms, cooing a little. Jiraichan suddenly broke into a toothless smile and babbled happily. “Dada!”

Both Siruko and Sensei lifted their eyebrows in surprise and their eyes widened. “W-was that his first word?” Sensei whispered in awe.

“Y-yeah. I usually call myself ‘Otouchan’ so I don’t know where he got that. Actually, I’m a bit jealous.”

“Wow.” Sensei mouthed. The baby poked Sensei’s cheek to get his attention, and Siruko could see Sensei swooning for the baby. Actually, he also might be swooning for Sensei right now. Oh no.

“This is awesome! Thanks for letting me hold him, Siruko-san. And yes, it’s nice to meet you too Jiraichan.” Sensei kissed the baby’s forehead, and yep, that does butterflies to Siruko’s stomach.

This isn’t good.

A week later, at around 8:30 in the evening, there was another knock to his door. Seriously, was the doorbell not working?

“Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I got locked out of my apartment, and I really need a place to crash. I’ll get my keys tomorrow morning, don’t worry.” Mintosu greeted with his usual ramble and Siruko just chuckled.

“Of course, you’re welcome here!” He opened the door and led him to the sofa. “Sorry if the babies cry or anything.”

“I don’t really mind, I’m just glad I don’t have to sleep on my doorstep tonight.”

Just then, Ichihachi, who just finished dinner, came to the living room. “Can I watch Pokemon now Touchan?”

“Oh sure, kitten, come here.”

“Hey lil guy! I’m Minben-san, nice to meet you! You like Pokemon?” Ichihachi nodded, and Mintosu fished something out of his bag.

“Tada! Do you wanna play together?” He held up his Switch, and Siruko snickered. He totally expected that the guy was a gamer. He had that aura.

Ichihachi glanced at Siruko again, and when Siruko nodded, he shyly trodded over Mintosu, climbing up his lap. Minben-san maneuvered him perfectly, then loaded the game. Ichihachi’s eyes widened like two plates and looked so excited.

“Oh no, he might erase your progress Minben-san.”

“No worries, it’s okay.” He chuckled. Siruko decides it’s not weird to like that. “Jyaa, is it ok to get some work done? I’ll leave the two of you there.”

“Sure.” Minben-san said. Ichihachi didn’t even look at him, too engrossed at the game already. The picture they made, his toddler, eyes fixated on the screen, sitting on the lap of his neighbor who was trying to entertain him with funny voices and teaching him how to control the character even though Ichihachi doesn’t understand a thing, is really cute and makes Siruko’s heart swell.

Wow, Siruko was able to actually get a lot of work done, and when he checks the clock, it’s already bedtime for Ichihachi. He arrives at the living room and stands there quietly for a while, observing them. Ichihachi was trying so hard to stay awake, but he was yawning and nodding off. The way he rubs his eyes was so cute, no bias. Minben-san was talking a lot as usual, but his tone was softer and gentler. Siruko really wants to capture a picture of this.

“Okay, time to sleep, kitten. Say good night to Minben-san and we’ll brush your teeth and drink milk.”

“G’nite Minben-san.” Ichihachi said, then pecked the guy’s cheek. Mintosu.exe stopped working and Siruko totally laughed out loud. He could see the exact moment Mintosu’s brain short-circuited.

Mintosu recovered though, and he kissed the boy’s hair as he let him down the sofa. “Good night, baby boy. Sweet dreams.”

“Sorry, I’ll just help him get ready, then I’ll go get your blankets and stuff. If you’re thirsty or anything, just raid the kitchen, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, I’m fine.”

When he got Ichihachi all settled down and read him the bed night story, Siruko sighed in contentment. The young toddler usually doesn’t like people, and is very shy and withdrawn around them. Seeing him being very affectionate and attached to Sensei and Minben-san makes Siruko’s heart fill with warmth. Anymore of this cuteness and he might need to have his heart checked.

The baby monitor picked up some sounds of hiccuping and whimpering. Siruko hurried towards the nursery and turned on the lights to see Jiraichan having a bunch of Quartetchi’s hair in his fists. How Quartetchi didn’t wail out loud in pain and just whimpered, Siruko-san will never know. Poor baby, his mewls were heart-breaking.

“Hey hey, Jiraichan let go of your brother!!” Siruko scolded, prying the pink baby’s hands open. “You naughty kid, tsk tsk.” He immediately lifted the gray baby up and rubbed his back, trying to stop the poor baby’s sniffles. “Mou Jiraichan, we don’t hit anyone here!” The pink baby just pouted at him.

Siruko suddenly realized that Minben-san was waiting in the living room, and face-palmed himself internally. “Okay guys, since you’re awake, let’s go meet Minben-san. Be nice, okay? And no hair-pulling, Jiraichan.” He warned.

Minben-san was standing in the living room looking at the family pictures, and he almost dropped one when he heard Siruko-san, thank goodness he has quick reflexes and caught it before it shattered to a million pieces. He muttered a quick “gomen” before his eyes widened in delight. “Are these the babies?”

“Yeah. Do you mind holding Quartetchi? He’s crying because the little fairy psychopath pulled his hair.”

“Aww champ, it’s okay. Yosh yosh.” Minben-san took Quartet from his arm, and the gray baby stopped crying immediately and blinked at the new guy. They stared at each other, one with blank surprise, and the other one making silly faces. Siruko tensed, waiting for Quartetchi to cry.

“Papa!” Both men startled and stared at the gray baby in shock.

“T-that’s Quartetchi first word… and Jiraichan said his last week, he called Sensei ‘Dada’. Mouuu, why do my own kids not call their own father ‘Touchan’??” Siruko pouted jealously.

Minben-san blinked his shock out and chuckled, not breaking eye contact with the baby. He swayed him lightly, sitting down on the sofa. “Nice to meet you too, Quartet-san. I’m honored.” He held the baby’s little hand with his finger and shook it.

A few minutes later, as Siruko fed Jiraichan with a bottle on the sofa while Mintosu was playing upsy daisy with a squealing Quartetchi, Siruko couldn’t help himself and asked. “So um… are you and Sensei…?

“Yeah… still in a fight.”

“Oof. Still? That’s why you came here and not there, huh.”

“Yeah. It’s… It’s probably our biggest fight ever, but both of us won’t back down, and the thing we want… it means the world to us both. It’s complicated.”

Siruko’s brows furrowed in contemplation. “What in the world could be so important to fight your friend with for months??”

Mintosu shrugged, and Siruko knew to drop the conversation. Both babies yawned loudly at the same time, melting both Siruko and Mintosu’s heart.

“Do you mind helping me put them back in the crib?”

“Let’s go.”

Later, when Minben-san put them down and kissed both their foreheads and wished them goodnight, does Siruko realize he’s screwed. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, suddenly longing.

Oh no, he’s in trouble.

“I have a question.”

Hakotaro was helping Ichihachi color his book on the floor, while Gzira was letting Jiraichan climb all over him on the sofa. Siruko was on the other couch, handing Quartet the big soft blocks for his tower. It was more of a tetris game at this point than making a tower, but Siruko encouraged the baby and clapped the whole time.

“Is it possible to fall in love with two guys at the same time?”

Hakotaro coughed out loud several times, earning a worried look from his nephew. Gzira opened his mouth in a perfect O.

“Are… are these the two megane hot neighbors?”

“Who?!” Hakotaro asked in his disbelief.

Siruko answered in a tiny voice. “ I… may have accidentally fallen in love with both my neighbors at the same time.”

“What?!”

“It… just happened?” Siruko offered.

“Why?!”

“Are you just gonna ask one-word questions, Hakotaro?”

“Ok ok, let me handle this Hakotaro-san.” Gzira placated. “Umm… I think it’s possible. Polyamory is not unheard of. You should talk it with them, if they agree.”

“What? No!” Siruko drew his eyebrow together. “I’m not gonna confess or anything like that. Are you insane?”

“You’re the one who said you loved them, Niisan!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna do anything about it! Look at me, who’s going to date a sad loser like me with more issues than kids?”

Hakotaro and Gzira looked at each other in silent understanding. His friend sighed sadly. “Siruko-san, stop that. I told you before, anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“Yes, do tell your insecurities to shut up, Niisan. I don’t really like talking about your dating life, but all I know is that it’s not that hard to love you. You take care of the people important to you really well, and you’re wrong, because many people love you because of who you are.”

Siruko was really touched, but as usual, he covers up his self-depreciation with humor. “Awww Hakotaro, do you wanna marry me instead?”

“Ew. I do love you Niisan, but getting married to you would be the definition of hell.”

“Awww I love you too.”

Hakotaro face-palmed. “Of all the times to focus on the positive, of course you only heard the word ‘love’.”

Gzira-kun laughed and it was really contagious.

After that, Siruko-san tried to avoid his neighbors. He still greeted them, but if he suddenly had something to do or forgot something at home, his neighbors would never know. He avoided too much interaction, just casually talked and smiled. He even used the kids as an excuse sometimes. If Sensei and Minben-san looked confused and hurt, he pretended not to see. All to protect his heart from falling further.

After all, it was for the best.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Click this for Part 2~ Drop by my Twitter too! Have a nice day!!🌻

[footballffbarbiex]

What about Roman inviting his GF to a match for the first time and goes out of his way to impress her but it doesn't go well and they lose and he's all depressed but she comforts him and says it doesn't matter cos she loves him anyway and its the first time they've said it.

If you’re reading this on the app, chances are the spacing layout looks like trash. 

______

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen. 

So far, Roman hasn’t been toofancy or over the top. He’s given her gifts, his time, his shirts and hishoodie. He’d found what worked and didn’t work for her. Everything was trialand error, but he quickly learnt. Their relationships wasn’t easy, they didn’tfit together perfectly like some love stories have you believe. They clashedover things and bickered but Roman knew she was worth it.

He’d had a good few games andthough she wasn’t a huge football fan, he’d asked her to attend the next one. He’dhad a good feeling about it and was quite excited to be able to look up and seeher as he did what he’d been doing well.

She’d stood in the box, eager tofinally see Roman in action, especially after his recent good run. After eachgame, he’d come home in good spirits, a huge smile on his face and hisconfidence soaring. It was amazing to see and she loved how something such as awin or a clean sheet could make such a difference and though she hadn’t watchedhis games, admittedly because she didn’t know much about football but it alsomade her nervous to see Roman like that, she’d felt proud of him.

When he asked her to attend agame, she couldn’t say no. She saw the happy look on his face as he’d asked,trying his best to mask his worry that she could turn him down. And so, in thedays that followed, she did everything she could to read up on the game and therules. As she stood in the box, she still wasn’t 100% that she understoodeverything. Reading about it and watching were two different things and sheknew it would take much more than just one game to get her head around it butshe wanted to be a supportive girlfriend for him.

Not once did Roman look up toher or search her out. He was concentrating hard, following all the moves ofthe ball and though the first half looked promising with Dortmund with most ofthe possession, the second half did not fare as well. Two goals slipped pastRoman within ten minutes. She tried to stare at the pitch as much as she could,but she occasionally needed to look on the small TVs provided in the box forcloser details.

She watched as Roman’s faceturned to one of fury, as he barked orders at his team and tried to direct themto where he needed them, but it was too late, the damage had been done and theylost by three goals. She remains in the box, sitting staring out at the pitchas she waits for him to come and find her like he promised. The happy face shewas so used to seeing as of late wouldn’t appear today and she hated that. Shefelt like an unlucky charm for him and found it no coincidence that they lostwhen she made her first appearance here.

Though Roman hadn’t looked forher, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe his nerves for performing well forher had got the better of him. She then cursed herself for thinking of herselfso highly, but she couldn’t think of another reason as to why this would havehappened. Other than the opponent, she was the only other difference.

She hated seeing him walk offthe pitch with his head low. Marco was immediately there, his arm around herboyfriend’s shoulders and he was saying something to him. Knowing Marco it wassomething positive, speaking of the highs rather than the lows but she alsoknew Roman well enough by this point to know that though he was nodding andappearing as though he was accepting what was being said, it was in through oneear and out of the other. He would purely focus on the bad, the negative andwhat he should have done rather than it wasn’t more. Yes, their defense shouldhave been better, but ultimately, it was his fault and he knew that’s how thefans would be. While they praised him when things were going well, she knewthey could also be unforgiving.

She waits patiently for him tocome to her and as expected, he’s not his usual self. He looks completelydefeated and she feels her heart breaking at the sight of him. “Roma-” she begins but he cuts her off with a“Don’t.” he shakes his head and wants to change the subject but she won’t lethim do this. “No listen to me.” She’s on her feet and in front of him. He stares around her,his eyes going back to the pitch. “Yes it was a shit result, yes you fucked upbut Roman, everyone does. I know you take it hard, and it’s not what you’d havewanted but you’re not the only man out there. The blame isn’t solely with you.”“You sound like Reus.”“Someone has to talk sense.” She smiles at him and can see the corners of hislips twitch as he fights back one in return. “I’d have loved a win but thishappens right? This is football and it doesn’t always go your way but when itdoes? Look how amazing you are.”“But I’m not amazing today am I? That’s the issue. Today I fucked up.”“You did. And you’ll remember how this felt and you’ll do better next time.Don’t take this the wrong way Ro, but I don’t care how you play. I reallydon’t. Your performance out there doesn’t impact how I see you.” She swallowsas she contemplates if this is the right time before deciding it is. “itdoesn’t change how I feel about you or stops me from loving you.” This gets hisattention. His eyes move from the pitch to her, they widen as he takes in whatshe says. “You..”“I love you. Yes. Today doesn’t change that. A result isn’t you.” He laughs indisbelief at her words. “I love you too.” He pulls her towards him, one hand on her waist while theother cups her jaw and he presses his lips to hers. “I love you so much ithurts sometimes.”“You’re my man. My Roman. My number one.”

________

If you’ve got this far and liked it, let me know what you think or give it a like and ease my worried heart?  

________

Forever tags: @starkrogerspls | @neymarlionelmessi7 | @elle-aaron  | @kxndrixx | @imakemyselfcringe | @leduqdefoot | @fangirlinsince1998 | @fcbarcafics | @dejanlovren06 | @msgem | @grizifc | @xxsophie-raabxx | @degea-drama-llama | @evie-pr | @meteora-fc  | @softstonsey | @fcgrizi  | @antoine-james |  @footballfangurl |   @romanisbaex |

Roman:  @iuliaaa21 |   @pollaluci

[joshslater]

Putting Reek in Greek

Essentially just a repost of walkamongyou’s excellent What Happens in Malia... with few tweaks thrown in. I take his feedback “Love how plausible you've made it“ as high praise, as that was the goal.

Thank fuck the week is almost over. It all started because I booked a discount holiday to Malia, like a fucking egit. The flights were cheap and the advert promised it’d be a ‘Great Gay Getaway’. It started out with a delayed flight, adding 4 hours of waiting in a packed terminal on top of the 3 hour uncomfortable flight. We were late to the crappy hotel, my room had already been given to someone else, and I got downgraded to a filthy cupboard with a narrow bed and no shower. The indifferent staff told me the price difference would be reimbursed on my credit card within two weeks and that I could use the pool shower.

I could have lived with giving up my beach view room with queen size bed and marble bath tub if there were some great gays to get away with, but no. Had I done any research I would have known that the place is littered with pubs and chippy shops for plebs who want to get wasted and watch footie in better weather. To top it all off I’ve coincided directly with all the trashiest stag and hen dos known to man. Everyone’s a chav, everyone’s English and worst of all, everyone’s straight as a ruler. Definitely nothing to offer a cultured gay man from South London. So here I am, sat in a tacky cocktail bar with two nights left, and can’t wait to get the fuck back to work. I just got what might be the evening’s last Old Fashioned, contemplating going to bed early when they enter.

They’re a classic example of everything that’s wrong with the Brits. They stagger in, singing and chanting “OI OI” and “Lads! Lads!”. They’re young, comically sunburnt, with identical chavvy haircuts, short on the sides and long on top. A group of working class boys on a lads’ holiday. One of them’s wearing a t shirt that says ‘On it till we vomit’, another that says ‘Pussy Patrol’ and a couple of them, of course, have football shirts. They’re a ridiculous cliché, drunk and rowdy. One loud-mouthed guy, their leader, is particularly handsome. He’s topless despite this being a public place, revealing a toned, athletic body; he wouldn’t look out of place dancing on a podium in Soho. His hair is dark brown and spikey, he has a diamond stud in both ears and a mischievous expression on his face as he starts chanting ‘Shots! Shots! Shots!’ and soon they’re all joining in. A row of tequila appears from the bar and he cries out “What happens in Malia stays in Malia!”

I don’t want them here. I resent their misogynistic ways and the atmosphere they’ve created. Not to mention I’m having a terrible day, so the London boy in me does the only thing he can think of and seeks out the bouncer, a bald, robust figure in a tight black T-shirt stood by the doorway. “Is there any chance you can get those guys to leave? They’re making people uncomfortable.” He shakes his head “Sorry, sir, there’s nothing I can do.” “Are you sure? It’s not fair on everyone else in here” “As long as they don’t break any laws, pay their bills, don’t fight or break anything they are welcome to stay.“ Normally I’d give up, but I’m miserable and exhausted from sleeping with an AC unit rattling outside my room, so I feel a lie come to my lips. I even shock myself as I say it. “But they are breaking the law. I’ve seen them at another bar this evening and they’re dealing drugs.” He looks at me, the irritable expression gone from his face. “What did you say?“ “I said they’re drug dealers. They’ve been selling cocaine.” Suddenly, his expression is deadly serious. “Thanks for letting me know. You have a good evening now.”

I watch them covertly, with a slight smile as the security guard approaches them. There’s a confrontation, voices are raised, and like kicking a beehive they buzz around the bar collecting their shit. They glare around the bar, even in my direction, before they go and peace returns. I chuckle to myself. What happens in Malia stays in Malia… Stupid chav cunts.

I go back to the bar stool and finish my cocktail at a leisurely pace, sit for a while and listen to the music they’re playing. At least I think that’s what I do. Everything starts going fuzzier and fuzzier, warmer and hazier. I need to get out and get some fresh air.

“Mate, wake up…” I’m groggy, I’m parched, my head’s pounding and I’ve no idea where I am. “Wake up, fella!” I feel a strong pair of hands shaking me, gently at first, and then roughly. My eyes slowly open, but everything’s dark and for a second I’m terrified that I might have gone blind, until a pair of sunglasses is pulled from my face and I’m blinded instead by the bright Malia sun. It’s high enough for breakfast to be over. Leaning over me is a handsome man; he’s wearing a grey t shirt and a backwards cap, but I recognise him instantly as the topless guy from last night. I panic, try to move but my body doesn’t want to respond and instead I slump to the ground. “Whoa…whoa…”, the man says, catching me in his arms and holding me tight against his broad chest. “Thank fuck you’re a skinny bastard.”

He props me back up on the deck chair I was sleeping on, holding my head upright, his face close to mine. I can smell chewing gum and cigarettes on his breath. I’m sure it’d be erotic if I wasn’t so frightened. "Now dickhead, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Blink once if you understand.” He’s using a hushed, calm voice, but with more than a hint of viciousness. I manage to consciously blink, though even that is an effort. “Good. Now, it seems like you had your drink spiked. Unlucky for you, but fortunately I here to help you. I left you out in the sun for a bit to sober you up but clearly it didn’t work. You’re wankered…” He ruffles my hair and my head instantly slumps to the side without him supporting it, so he takes a hold of my temples and pulls me sharply back upright.

He barely whispers now. “OK, listen to me, you little prick. You messed with the wrong lads last night. We’re no drug dealers, but it cut close to home for some of my mates, so they are divesting certain personal pharmaceutical investments as we speak. Personally I ditched my stash of slow release growth hormones by giving you quite a liberal dose. It should have you set well into the next quarter, perhaps longer. Russians really now how to cheat...” He chuckles darkly and stares straight into my eyes. Back to normal voice again. “Don’t look so scared mate. My job is to keep you in sight and entertained until they are back. We’re going to have a great day together… Now, what’s your name again?” I try to respond, but can only groan. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that…” He laughs, coughs and then spits on the floor. “Well…my name’s Caine, and to be honest, fella, I don’t give a shit what your name is…But what I do give a shit about is that you ruined a proper good vacation for me and the lads.” My body tenses at this accusation “No worries though… tonight’s a new night, as they say… and you’re going to make it unforgettable. You’re about to become the newest member of our Lads on Tour group: Gaz. That’s your name, right? Gaz? Blink once if it is…" I sit there, not responding. My name definitely isn’t Gaz. He grunts and lands a hard slap across my face. “I said blink if your name’s Gaz!” This time I do blink. “Good lad. You’re not as thick as you look. Now, Gaz, let’s get you semi-functional. We’ve got lots to do today and a big night ahead of us. Drink this.“ He shoves gym water bottle in my mouth and squeeze it lightly. I can do nothing else but drink it, though I happily do. It tastes like an isotonic drink. Sweet, salty, slightly sour and slightly bitter all at the same time.

I’m staggering down the street, with Caine supporting me. A lot of passers-by are shaking their head or trying to not stare at us…well, me; to an outside eye he looks like a well-meaning boy helping out his mate who’s had one too many. Nobody would guess he was a straight chav with a perverse sense of justice, propping up a sedated gay man.

But it’s not only this apparent display of friendship that is making people stare. Despite not having had a good look at myself, it is clear even to me I’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You look a bit burnt there Gaz. I thought I lathered you up pretty well with sun lotion. Looks like I took the tanning oil by mistake.”  My usual pale skin was a painful, blazing red all aside from a tan line where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on my face and an equally ridiculous set of white lines where he’d dressed me in an old wife beater; I was now modelling what most Brits would call a ‘twat tan.’

It wasn’t just any wife beater either. In contrast with my normal, well accessorized shirt, chinos and brogues look, I only had a total of four items on my body. One pair of orange Jägermeister promotion flip flops. One pair of blue, slinky adidas football shorts as, perhaps not less expensive, but certainly cheaper looking stand in for board shorts. And finally, the crown jewel, someone’s black wife beater that read “I HAVE THE DICK SO I MAKE THE RULES” in outlandish red letters. All of it covered in traces of what must have been at least one out of vomit, food and cum, and I could definitely smell both sweat and alcohol wafting from it.

All of this I piece together painfully slow, as I’m practically carried by Caine along the scorching street towards God knows where. I’m paraded around town like an effigy of the worst of Britain, unable to do anything to shield myself from, or even look at the passerby.

Suddenly Caine steers me into a building. As he guides me through the door, I notice the spinning red, blue and white of a barber’s pole. It’s a Turkish barbers; the two men working there turn around and eye me up and down, one is unable to quell a small laughter, the other barely hiding his disgust. It’s a far cry from the warm welcome and prosecco I get at Toni & Guy in London. The decor is ugly and cheap, with neon lights and linoleum. The two men discuss something among themselves in another language, ignoring us, until one finally comes forward with a neutral “You want a haircut?”

Caine throws me in the barber’s chair. I notice whatever I’ve been spiked with is starting to wear off as I’m now just about able to support my own head. The barber is behind me, glaring and tutting like I’m an idiot. I see him take in the stains and slogan on the tank top as he puts the cape around my neck. “You look unwell.” he states. Caine’s voice comes from behind me. “Yeah man, he’s just taken a lot of shit. You’re a pussy but you’re right as rain ain’t you Gaz mate?” He slaps me hard on the chest. It’s agonising on my sunburn, but I can barely flinch. The barber seems appeased, rolling his eyes, and taking another look at the photo Caine is showing him on his phone. “While we were out Gaz gave me strict orders to get him a fresh cut before we hit the town again today. When he sobers up he’ll be gutted if he isn’t looking his best. He even said he’d pay triple, didn’t you Gaz mate?”, he laughs. “You stupid stoner bastard.” The barber nods OK. I’m sure he’s being deliberately rough as he sets to work, shoving my head from side to side and pressing the clippers tightly against my scalp, totally ignoring my sunburn. Still, while my muscle control is coming back, I’m feeling fatigued, and before I know it I doze off. When I come to, the barber is holding a mirror up to the back of my head and tapping my shoulder impatiently. “Your haircut, sir.”

I see Caine’s reflection appear behind me, smiling broadly, flashing his perfect white teeth, then see my own eyes widen as I take in this new look. Gone is my fashionable London haircut. In it’s place is a modernised fusey bowl cut; the top third of my head is covered, but below that is a harsh line where I’ve been shaved bald. The barber must have done something to the hair he left on my head, as it’s now blow dried into a ridiculous, voluminous mess. I look like a giant iced gem. It’s a style I’ve only ever seen on the stupidest chavs and builders trying to copy their favourite stars from The Only Way is Essex. “Oi oi, Gaz, a perfect lad’s haircut for a night out with the boys!” Cain shouts in my ear. “Great idea with a perm innit?! You get this do for half a year without any work in the morning.” He reaches across to shake the barber’s hand. “Thanks, I promise Gaz is smiling too, aren’t you mate? Thinking of all the pussy you’ll get with your new do ain’t ya?” Both men laugh as Caine reaches into his pocket and pulls out what I see is my wallet, cramming a handful of euros into the barber’s hand; well above what I assume is triple their going rate it. “Keep the change mate.” The barber smiles. “Have a good one lads…” He turns to Caine and lowers his voice. “Please help your friend take a shower. He really needs one.” 

“I can’t wait to tell the lads how you were too stinky to stay in that Turkish barbers! Classic Gaz! Gaz the Stinker! Must be all the growth hormone that is starting to kick in.” Caine howls as he leads me down the pavement, people are staring at us. The sun is above us, so it must be about lunch time.

“Now, Gaz, mate, we’ve got one more stop before we’re ready for our special lads’ night. But I want this one to be a surprise. Drink up.” He handed me the gym bottle again. Still thirsty I eagerly empty it. “Good lad. I added something extra, so it’s not just electrolytes and that mental patient docile stuff you had before. It’s time for you to have another little sleep. Not even a stab in your guts would wake you up…”

Eventually I do wake up, this time to the distant sound of buzzing. I know the drill by now; I try to speak, but no sound comes out. My senses clear and I feel the gentle touch of someone rubbing me with lotion. It stings. As I look around I realise with horror exactly where I am. He’s taken me to a fucking tattoo parlour. I don’t even have any tattoos…well, correction, I didn’t. I feel a lump in my throat as I dread to think of what Caine has in store for me. As if on cue, he appears. “Morning you lazy bastard! You’ve woken up just in time; quite a few helping hands worked together to sort out all those tats for you in time. But we got it just like you wanted, Gaz!”

I wonder what tattoo artists would work on an unconscious client, but I know Caine is a ruthlessly smooth talker. I remember articles I’d laughed at in the Daily Mail of people who’d had ridiculous tattoos done on holiday. Now, thanks to Caine, I could add my own name to that illustrious list.

“You guessed it mate, you’ve got some sick new ink. What’s better is Phoebe here is treating them with burn victim lotion. Seals those fuckers right in, so you can go swim tomorrow if you like. Makes them a bit blurry, but it’s no worse than any one year old tat. Let me show you on my phone…” With a manic glint in his eye, he slowly scrolls through the photos of the artist’s handiwork in front of my face with careful glee, enjoying how I can’t really react, but I still find myself gasping at what he shows me.

My body has been turned into a ridiculous canvas of male clichés; there are British flags and patriotic slogans, roses, poppies and images of football players I don’t even recognise on my arms, legs, neck and chest. There clearly is a wide range of styles and level of abilities represented. But the blazing centrepiece is a huge Celtic print of three letters across my back; a name, not my name, a name bestowed upon me today: ‘GAZ’, underlined with the grammatically incorrect phrase ‘Malia 2017. Lad’s on tour’

Caine locks eyes with me in triumph. “On other guys I’d think this much ink was stupid, but on you, mate, it’s fucking on point. I’m happy it came out perfect, since red and yellow can’t be lasered.” He swipes to the next photo, showing a gaudy glass stud in my earlobe. “It’s acid treated, so you don’t have to worry about the piercings growing shut.”

Everything is starting to blur together. Perhaps I’m in shock, and you would think for all the sleeping I’ve done today I would be on top of things. Caine has led me back to the cheap holiday apartment where this hellish day began. This time I can feel tingling, like pins and needles, of movement returning to my body. I’m able to stand up on my own, and I’m in the middle of a bedroom with Caine in front of me. He’s dressed really nicely in a white linen shirt, breathtakingly handsome. In spite of all that’s happening I can feel my penis bulging in the adidas shorts he put me in this morning. I don’t want to get hot for him, and perhaps this is another of his additions to the water, but I suspect he just is that hot. “Now, mate, let’s get the final touches for the finale. I want you to have a say in this, since you’ve been so good all day. Which footie top is it going to be for the big night? What do you say, Stinker? Red, or blue?”

He spins me around forcefully and I gaze up at two football shirts hanging on the wall. I assume they’ve both already been worn by one of my new ‘friends’ the night before. My shoulders slump in defeat and I quietly nod in the direction of the blue one. He pulls it over my head. As expected it smells of stale sweat. “Nice choice, mate. I think the red would have really brung out your sunburn. You really should get some aloe vera on that, you daft twat. No time for that now though, the lads are waiting and it’s taken you all fucking day to get ready.”

We’re in front of a club, waiting in a queue. Everyone is dressed nicely, in collared shirts and dresses, and I feel so conspicuous in my sweaty football gear. I’ve regained a lot of movement, but I’m lumbering and everything’s still fuzzy around the edges. “Sorry everyone!” Caine shouts “Gaz here has had five pints too many!” As we reach the front of the queue, a dapper bouncer blocks the way. “Identification, Sir.” The bouncer stressed the Sir a bit extra, dripping with disapproval. There was an awkward pause. I check the flimsy pockets of my football shorts, but they were as empty as I had expected them to be. “Oi, Gaz I have your new passport.” Caine handed over a passport to the  bouncer. It was one of those temporary passports embassies issue for people daft enough to lose it while abroad. The bouncer opened it, made a quick look, and handed it back. With far fewer pages than a normal passport it looked flimsy. I opened it and flipped to the identification page. Most of the fields were what I would expected them to be. Height, sex, number all as expected. The expiration date was only a month in the future. Again, nothing surprising for a temporary passport. But the photo made me nauseous. It was a photo from today, though I had no memory of it being taken. My mouth was slack jawed open, eyes bloodshot, sleepy and unfocused, skin unevenly tanned. To crown it all, that ugly haircut and two slits shaved in my left eye brow. I had no memory of that being done either. I raised my hand to confirm. I was painfully aware that had the photo been shot a few hours later there would also be a pair of cheap studs in my freshly pierced ears and an ugly tattoo snaking up from the tank top, on the side of the neck.

Just as horrifying as my run-down visage was the name in the passport. Instead of John Holland, my name, it says "Gaz Taylor". As if he could read my mind, though that wouldn't be that hard at the moment, Caine spoke again. “The lads were kind enough to submit a deed poll to correct your name before getting your temp passport. With any luck your new permanent ID card should be waiting for you when you get home. I say permanent, but you can of course change name again in like 2 years, or whatever their hold off time is.” The club is classy, expensive and busy. Caine guides me across the room, his hand pressing firmly into the small of my back, over to a group of men who are chatting among themselves. Of course it’s the same group of lads as the day before, my new ‘mates’. “Fellas…you remember Gaz? He’s very sorry about last night and really keen to make it up to you all!” They turn, and I feel their eyes on me, taking me in; the tattoos, the outfit, the piercings, the hair. They’re all dressed nicely, suave and in sharp contrast to the ridiculous figure Caine has shaped me into; there’s a moment of silence before they burst into raucous laughter.

Soon I’m being shoved from person to person, they’re all shaking my hands, offering me swigs of their pint, clapping me on the back and eager to spend time with their new ‘mate’. I feel that even with those minuscule amounts of beer, my tired body is sinking fast. One of them squeezes my bicep, asking me if I’ve started to swell yet and if I watched the match last night. Another asks me if I knew there was a dress code, pointing at my top and loudly shouting “Classic Gaz”. Someone named Chris tells me he knows a guy who needs concrete workers, and write a number with a marker pen on my arm. Another pulls me over, asks me what the capital of Thailand is, before slapping me hard in the balls and saying “Bang cock!” They are all taking the piss out of me.

I’m standing with a guy called Shaun, who is showing me a top he picked up for me that day that is also ‘Classic Gaz’, a lime green t shirt proudly emblazoned with the words ‘MUFF DIVER’. However, this presentation is cut short by lights flashing from outside in red and blue, and the music in the club stops abruptly. The boys scatter and I feel a lump of joy in my throat. Somebody must have informed the police; finally my nightmare is over!

Four police officers quickly advance towards me. I look around and Caine is no where to be seen. In fact I don’t recognise anyone around me. I don’t realise how drunk I am until two of the officers roughly restrain me and put me in handcuffs. I try to speak to them, but they completely ignore anything I say, and as I’m shoved into the back of a police car I can hear the music start in the club again.

I wake up as they drag me out of the car. Everything is so unreal. Like it is happening to someone else. A police man is asking me questions and I think I answer them. Two officers take me to a well lit room and tell me to take off my clothes. Flip flops, shorts, shirt. Every piece can be removed in one motion. They take photos. They look in my mouth. I lie on my belly on an angled, padded table. I’ve had things in my ass many times before, but this wasn’t what I hoped for. I get dressed again. They take me to a small cell, and I can finally fall asleep.

When I wake up again for a few seconds everything feels fine. Nothing hurts. A bit thirsty perhaps, but nothing more. Then I see a horrible football tattoo and a cellphone number scribbled on my arm, and all the memories of what has been done to me floods back. There is no clock in the cell, so I don’t know exactly how many hours I sit there until someone comes to get me, but I have plenty of time to consider my situation. I understand what Caine meant with growth hormones producing smelly sweat, because it is definitively me and not the clothes that stink the worst.

When someone finally come and get me it is a police officer explaining they got a call about a drug dealer matching my description. While they didn’t find any drugs, I was clearly under the influence and they kept me in custody. The blood report showed a whole buffet of different drugs, but being under the influence isn’t an offense in itself. He further informs me that a report has been sent to Europol so I should arrive airports an hour earlier from now on, as I can expect thorough searches. With that he wishes me good luck and hope I can get my life back on track. He has no idea.

Lastly he hands me a sports bag. I had been checked out of the hotel while in custody, and the bag was the only thing in my room. A last laugh from Caine. The bag contains a wrinkled bundle of damp clothes. Joggers, sweatshirt, t-shirt, a pair of seriously worn trainers and three socks. No underwear. It’s as if someone did a hard workout and then put his clothes in sealed bag for a day. No matter how I am getting home, it will be just as unpleasant for any travelers close to me, since without wallet this is what I’ll wear.

In the side pocket is a hotel envelope containing three papers. The checkout folio from the hotel, a Ryanair boarding pass for the evening flight back in the name Gaz Taylor, and a fax from my employer. Or rather former employer, as it reads “Upon receiving the drug use report we are hereby terminating your employment effective immediately in accordance with section 18 (e) of your employment contract.” I look again at the phone number scribbled on my arm.

[queenie435]

Exemplore»

Magic

Storm Callers - The Art of Weather Magic

Updated on April 16, 2017

Pollyanna Jones

"Many tales were bruited about the power of witches and wizards over storms, weapons, spirits, love, and death. I have been assured that at this day the country folk, some of them at least, tremble at the sight of one of these gifted persons, or persons of such repute, lest by some chance the sorcerers eye lighting on them should kindle in him a dislike." – Rev Oswald Cockayne, 1864

The weather. Most unpredictable, and most important to those living off the land, efforts have been made throughout the ages to predict and even control the sun, wind, and rain. Good weather would ensure a plentiful harvest and safe travels, whilst a wet summer or particularly harsh drought would doom a community to starvation and suffering. Even today, extreme weather events affect us profoundly, claiming lives each year. So it is no wonder that throughout the ages, man has tried to influence the elements around him.

Tales of magical manipulation of the weather appear all over Europe, and appear in the Sagas as well as Saxon records. Even today, we utter charms to ensure good weather.

"Rain, rain, go away.

Come again another day."

~ Traditional English proverb, charm for good weather.

Appeasing the Sea

It would seem that some of Britain's earliest superstitions around the sea and weather came to our shores with the Norsemen.

The goddess Rán, one of the deities who ruled the domain of the sea, would catch any who fell overboard with her net. The Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar Edda describes how she receives those drowned at sea, luring men into the water and sinking ships with her daughters, the waves. As a result, many Norsemen would carry gold with them on a voyage, to appease Rán in the unfortunate event they drowned. 

This superstition was carried through right up to the present day; it is believed placing a gold coin under the mast will bring good luck and works as a talisman against stormy weather.

Rán's Embrace | Source

Taming the Tempests

The goddess Rán was the least of their worries though. With the sea being the main transport route of the time, the Norse were vulnerable to the elements, and many accounts speak of how magical forces were at work as a weapon against those sailing the seas. Snorri Sturluson wrote, in Heimskringla:

"King Hakon lay in the Southern Isles, the Hebrides, St Michaels mass fell on a Saturday and on the Monday night, that is, the night before Monday, came a mickle storm with wild fury, and drove a cock boat and a long ship upon the coast of Scotland. On Monday the storm was so fierce that some cut away their masts and some ships drove. The kings ship drove also into the sound, and there were seven anchors out, and at last the eighth, which was the biggest, but she drove notwithstanding. A little later the anchor held fast. So mickle was this storm that the men said it was the work of enchantment, and one made upon it these skaldic verses:-

"There met the much scarching

Maintainer of war

The sorcerers arts

Of Scotlands warlocks.

Roaring the raging sea

Drove with its fair sails

Many a proud ship

Of the beah giver

Broken on land.

Blew with its loud blasts

On the brine skimmers

Full fraught with warriors

Fiercely the sea storm

Stirred up by the wizards.

Up on to Scotland

Scattered and tossed

Broad barking billows

Threw brave men of battle

With shields and war gear

Shivered and torn.""

The weather magic of the warlocks of Scotland was at play, denying many a brave warrior his place in Valhalla.

In this piece entitled "Vikings", a ship of Norsemen battle through a storm at sea. | Source

Another instance of Scottish magic being used against the Norse can be found in the folktale, "Pitchpine: The Norse King's Sorcerous Daughter":

"As they reached the shores, the women of Lochaber used incantations of their own to destroy the vessel. The boat was wrecked at the entrance to Loch Eil, and all souls lost. More ships were sent, and met the same fate.

Finally, the Norse King sent out his most powerful fleet; an armada of sea stallions filled with his best warriors and most experienced sailing men. Their first mission was to weaken the magic of the Scottish folk before moving inland to recover the Norse King's daughter's remains.

They headed to the island of Iona, where it is said that magic was drawn from the fairy wells upon the hill there. The waters of these wells held a power that could call a wind from any direction when needed. In peaceful times this would help the fishermen sail out to the herring shoals, but in times such as these, they could be used to whip up a tempest wherever it was wanted. The islanders just needed to draw water from the wells and empty it in the direction that the wind was needed. The Norsemen knew of this place and its magical waters, and the likeliness that they had been used to ruin their kinsmen before them. If these wells were dried up, then safe passage would be secured, not just for their fleet, but for invaders thereafter.

When the islanders saw the viking ships approaching, they hurried to the fairy wells and began to draw up the water. Nearly emptying the wells themselves, the storm that was called up was so violent that Norse fleet was tossed about and ripped to pieces. The ships were torn apart and hurled onto the shores beneath Fairy Hill on Iona. The power and might of the Norsemen was broken."

"The Finns made in the night violent weather with their cunning sorcery and a storm at sea."

~ Saga of Saint Olaf, anonymous

As Christianity spread throughout Europe, many of the old observations and rites changed to become superstitions. Evil magic could be found everywhere, and the newly converted Norse, fearful of the ire of the shunned Gods, would not dare set sail on a Friday for fear that they would be easy pickings.

This is observed by some sailors even today, and the superstition is thought to have its origins with the Norse Goddess, Frigga. Friday is thought to have been her day, and as the Old Gods were viewed as being evil, a theory has been put forward that priests in Scandinavia preached that Frigga was an evil hag, and she and her witches would whip up storms on Friday. Friday became branded as an unlucky day, so any ship due to sail would be doomed.

"The Spanish Armada and English Ships in August, 1588", artist unknown.

Weather Witches

In Elizabethan England, Sir Francis Drake was said to have sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for success as skilled seaman. He later earned victory in 1588 against the Spanish Armada heading towards England, with great luck on his side.

A terrible storm swept through the English Channel, which hampered Spanish warships. It is said that the Drake had the help of the Devil and witches in the sea battle, who called the storm to aid the English fleet. Folklore tells how the spirits of these witches still haunt the coast around Devonport, at a spot known as Devil's Point.

"Rain" | Source

By the time that Queen Elizabeth was on the throne, magical ways were deemed dangerous and evil, and steps were taken to hunt out witches and warlocks by the Church. What would once have been a useful skill was now seen as a tool of the devil.

This account of weather manipulation was recorded by a "witch hunter" in Swabia, which is now modern-day southern Germany.

"A strange thing lately happened, as has been ascertained in Swabia: a little girl, eight years old, was led by her father, who was a bailiff, to visit the fields, and when he complained of the extreme drouth*, she said she would soon get up some rain if there were need of it. Her father, in wonder, asked whether she knew how to do it; she declared she could get rain, or even hail if she chose. When asked where she had learn this, she said from her mother, and that instructors in these matters were at hand when required. To learn therefore by trial whether the child told the truth, he bid her call for rain upon his farm. For that purpose the daughter said she should want a little water; when then he had brought her to a small stream just by, the child, in pursuance of her mothers instructions, stirred the water with her finger in the devils name; hereupon the air was agitated and the rain descended as she had predicted. Her father told her to fetch some hail upon another field, and when she had done it the man denounced his wife to the authorities. She was burnt alive, and the child was reconciled to the church and made a nun." [3]

*drought

Angela Lansbury as Miss Price, leading a spectral host of warriors to battle, defending Britain from invading foes! | Source

A Magical Battle

Witchcraft also made an appearance during WW2. Whilst Disney's Bedknobs and Broomsticks is a work of fantasy, there is truth in the account that witches in the England and Scotland were working against the powers of the enemy to prevent invasion.

Operation Mistletoe was a magical strike, organised by a lady named Dion Fortune. Gathering some of Britain's more prominent magicians including Dennis Wheatley, Aleister Crowley, and Ian Fleming (yes, the author behind James Bond!), a Cone of Power was directed against Germany.

During the rite, spirits of ancient heroes of the British Isles such as King Arthur, St. George, and Merlin were called upon to protect the UK's shores. A cabal of magic workers gathered in the New Forest under Gerald Gardner, and some accounts tell how witches gathered directly on the Cliffs of Dover to stop a Nazi invasion and assist the British airmen during the Battle of Britain.

Bad weather caused a much smaller Luftwaffe force to take to the skies, and with the skill of British airmen, the enemy was turned away. Victory in the skies was granted to the RAF on 31st October, 1940. It is worth noting that this date coincides with Halloween, or the ancient festival of Samhain; a day of power for many witches, where the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its thinnest

Wind Magic | Source

Modern Beliefs

Of course, we live in an age of reason and logic. The weather is produced through varying factors such as sea currents, air pressure, and many other variables. Whilst our technology allows us to track weather fronts, it is still very difficult to predict the weather seven days from now, let alone control it.

We now have technology such as cloud seeding, which enables us to encourage clouds to drop rain in areas of drought, and there are many conspiracy theories about how technologies exist to create more severe weather events.

None of this could be described as being magic though. For this we need to look at our customs and supersitions. A handful of these from England include:

"When you've eaten a boiled egg, always smash a hole through the bottom of the shell. If you don't a witch will ride it out to sea and cause a storm."

Sea hags could often stir up a storm. Best not to help them by leaving your eggshells intact!

"Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day."

Our best known charm for improving the weather.

"If you pull a face in the wind, it'll stick!"

The demons that ride with strong winds were thought to have disfiguring powers.

"If you sing badly, it'll rain."

Enchantment has it's origins with "enchante", or "singing". Witches and sorceresses would use magical songs and chants to perform certain spells. Some of these would no doubt have been used to call the rains.

"Tread on an ant, you'll make it rain."

Ants tend to come out in good weather, on the hunt for foods to take back before the weather turns.

"To end a drought, dip an effigy of a saint in water."

This may have also been done as a punishment to the saint for ignoring the community's prayers! Possibly originating with the custom of leaving holy pre-Christian effigies in springs or lakes, i.e. Nerthus' wain.

"Ring bells during a gale, to scare the demons away."

Church bells were often rung during a storm to frighten evil forces.

"Gales come to take a great spirit away."

Some people believe this is the Devil come to claim a soul, but this superstition is likely to have its origins in legends of the Wild Hunt.

So do any of these hold any truth?

See for yourself. Let me know if you have any results to prove or disprove any of the superstitions above!

Are you superstitious about the weather?

Yes, stop singing already!

No, don't be absurd!

See results

Sources

[1] Rev Oswald Cockayne - Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, 1864 - ISBN 978-1298592057

[2] Pitchpine: The Norse King's Sorcerous Daughter

[3] Caesalpinus Daemonum Investigatio, 1591

[pjarox-journey]

Breath of the Wild - Session #3

I’m still experiementing with how to do this. I have no problem with taking notes while playing, although it might disrupt the game at times. I don’t think this is entertaining enough, and far too long. I should leave out some details, right? *sighs* I’ll try this time! Oh, eh... when looking at some onlinemaps, i found out the shrines have different names in English and German (which i use cause that might be my mother tongue). Which is... kinda strange, tbh, but whatever.

As i wrote the last time, i was ready to take my leave from the stable. Hope poor Terry is alright, but i guess he might have experienced worse. Anyway, i rode north, towards Kakariko. On my way, i killed a few birds, which were unlucky enough to stand in Fiona’s an my way. More meat for me, yay! Also, i threw some bombs at goats, which worked pretty fine as well! (I might be an evil man, yeah...)

I had to cross another river to reach Kakariko, but luckily there was a big bridge i could use. With an Octoplatform as well, which wasn’t hard to loot, tbh. Nothing fancy here, though, but i looked around, looted some more stuff and fish, and found another Korok. #14. I had to throw rocks from the bridge, and... boy, it took me at least five minutes. The stone circle i had to hit was to far away for throwing, so i had put some ice pillars around it. Imagine Link, running over the bridge, taking every stone he could find and throwing it into the river. That was me. Hi. But i finally hit the spot, after... at least ten tries. Maybe more. Didn’t count.

On my way to Kakariko i met Hestu (also know as Maronus. Why do they have different names in English, whyyyy? TT_TT), the biggest korok of the all. He had lost his maracas, and he asked me to return them to him. I found them, after defeating 3 Bulblins nearby. 3 black Bulblins. I nearly broke my Knights Broadsword (the one with 38 attack), just for those 3. I hate everything about it, although i might have fought really bad. Anyway... now, after returning the maracas to Hestu, i was able to give him some Korok Seeds in exchange for bigger bags (read: a bigger weapon bag. This is my main problem right now. Who needs more shields anyway?!). But... he only did it twice, until he said something like “Oh no, it late, gotta go, bye!” :c

On the last steps to Kakariko i found another two Koroks, so now i’ve got 16. I might want to mention one in particular: there are some wooden archways before you enter the village. They have an eye out of metal in the middle,or at least thats what i think it looks like. Anyway, sometimes there are sticking some arrows besides them, indicating some people might have shot at them. I can’t tell you why, maybe for some luck? Whatever the reason might be, if you hit the eye, a Korok will appear. I know there is at least one more i can find this way, maybe even two. Not sure, i just got this one until now.

When i entered Kakariko, it was nearly midnight of the 4th day, and the first night of a blood moon. I don’t know if it was coincidence that it happened right when i entered the village, but... well, whatever. The blood moon is strange phenomena, happening every once in a while. The power of ganon revives all of the fallen monster once again. Yay, i guess.

Like i said, Kakariko is one of the more lively places in this world. There are living at least... 20 people in the village? Maybe even more? I did not count them, but i think you get the idea. They all have their daily routine, and some may even have quests for you. Like one of the villagers loves his chickens, but there are only 3 of them left in their enclosure. The other 7 roam happily through the village. For bringing them back, i got 50 Rupees, which was kinda neat.

The most important stuff about the villages are the shops you can use. Kakariko has a supply shop, where you can buy some ingridients, an arrow shop, for, well, arrows. There is also an inn and a clothing shop. Like i wrote, i wanted to buy some armor, but i found out the stuff i wore was good enough for now. Except for the top, so i bought a Hylian tunic for 120 Rupees. I have to admit, its one of my favorite outfits in this game, so i’m happy i was able to get it. There is also a special outfit in every village, which is pretty expensive. In Kakariko it’s a ninja outfit, for better stealth. I don’t like to play stealthy, to be honest, and i also don’t want to pay 1800 Rupees to buy the whole set (with less armor!), so i just bought the tunic and left. Maybe i’ll come back later, don’t know yet.

But i didn’t mention the most important part of the village yet! It’s Impa, the old wise lady! She was waiting for Link, so she could tell him a message of Zelda. But Link had lost all of his memories, so she told him about the past, what has happened 100 years ago. She didn’t tell me how to retrive the lost memories, but asked me to activated the four titans and pay Hateno a visit. Hateno is a small village at the eastern end of Hyrule, just next to the sea, and my next goal! But first, i will do most of the stuff in Kakariko i’m able to do now. I’ve already found another two Koroks here, so i found 18 already!

At the end of day 5, i already finished some stuff in Kakariko, but not everything. There is still the shrine, the great fairy in the forest, i know about another shrine (can i do that yet? I forgot how to get excess to it D:), and there are some quests here, too. Well, we’ll see! That’s all for today! :D I hope you enjoyed it so far! :3

[san-sebastian]

ON ‘LUCK’ AND MY TRIP TO SYNDEY

I’d like to start off by acknowledging the fact that I am lucky. This might sound counterintuitive, but I am. For instance, I’m lucky that I have the privilege to travel to Sydney on a year abroad from London.  I’m lucky to have a strong network of support to help me out at a time like this. I’m lucky I like Indian food (more on this later). Nevertheless, the fact that one is lucky doesn't exclude the possibility of unlucky things happening to them. And holy shit have I had unlucky things happen to me in the past few days. 

July 25th, 2019. Everything seemed in order for me to travel to Sydney. I had arrived in London to find my two packed suitcases laying intact in my room, which had been cleaned. All that was left for me to do was to officially move out, get a new phone, and see my closest friends in London for the last time in a year. By 15:30, I was ready to go. In a state of sadness, nervousness, and anticipation, I took the Piccadilly line from Finsbury Park to Heathrow Terminal Two. One could argue that this is where things started to go wrong. Sure, you could also claim it was the fateful day I decided to book my itinerary to Sydney via Zurich on the 25th of July, or the day I applied for a year abroad in Sydney. You can always trace it back and pinpoint it anywhere you find convenient. But for the sake of simplicity, let's just say things started to go wrong on the Piccadilly Line from Finsbury Park to Heathrow Terminal Two. 

It didn't come as a surprise that the tube was delayed, and I knew I should have given myself more time. I told myself: ‘Everything will be fine if things run smoothly at the airport!’. It was too loud on the tube to hear the mocking reply: ‘Hah! As if!’. I made my way to the check-in desk - the first of four journeys to the same check-in desk. In my first journey, my bag was overweight by 1 (one) kg. They wouldn't let me through. I took out some essentials and repacked. In hindsight, this actually saved my ass. Once again, in some way, I was ‘lucky’ - even though I didn't know it in the moment. In my second journey to the check-in desk, I was told I was on standby and as a consequence couldn't pay for an extra bag. I made my way to the queue for the ticket desk in order to sort this out, but it was massive. I realised check-in closed in 10 minutes, and I wouldn't make it on my flight if I waited my turn. I see now how ironic that is. I explained my situation to a Heathrow official, who passed it on to his colleague, who passed it on to another colleague, who finally passed it on to what appeared to be an important employee at Heathrow check-in. ‘They’re new here’, she said to me apologetically. In my third journey to the check-in desk, she wavered my extra bag and let me through. I was on my way to the plane, which was delayed. All good! For now. 

It’s always reassuring when you're in a rush at the airport and your plane is delayed. You think that things are working in your favour. That is, until you’re sitting in the plane and the pilot announces that operations has cancelled the flight due to impending storms coming North across the English Channel. I didn't believe it at first. My two connecting flights, one waiting for me at Zurich and the other in Singapore - both missed. My flight to Zurich might as well have said Sydney, and it was cancelled. In situations like these, there's really nothing you can do. Hence, my fourth and final journey to the same dreaded check-in desk. I was rebooked on a flight for the next day, at 21:30. ‘It’s not ideal, but it could be worse’, I thought. I was naive to trust the black hole that is the airport administration system. 

Back on the Piccadilly Line, 24 hours later. Round Two. I learnt from my mistake and gave myself ample time to sort everything out at the airport. Specifically, I wanted to know if my bags would be sent to Sydney, as I hadn't checked them in again. I asked three different people, and they all assured me it would be fine.  I felt quite satisfied, as I had managed to get a free bag, and I didn't even have to carry my ~50 Kg of luggage back and forth from the airport a second time. Finally, things were looking up. I boarded my flight on my new itinerary with Air India. All I can say about my journey across the world is that I’m lucky I like Indian food because that’s all I ate for 24 hours. 

Honestly, I wasn't surprised when my two bags, essentially carrying my whole life and everything I own, didn't show up on conveyer belt 15 at Sydney Airport. I wasn't surprised, but I couldn't accept it. I couldn't cry. I was so exhausted, angry, and upset that all I could was go find someone and file my lost baggage report. Later on, I reported it to Air India, and also filed a fat complaint with Swiss. As of today, it’s been three days and I still haven’t gotten my bags back. I tried calling but my phone won’t dial International numbers for some reason. Shit has really hit the fan, as they say. All I can hope for is that they aren't lost forever. I’m just really hoping that at least one thing in this mess of a move to Sydney can go right. 

AFTERWORD

If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that luck is relative. Sure, these events were unlucky in the moment in which they occurred. However, what was unlucky once can turn out to be lucky in the future, and vice versa. For instance: had my bag not been overweight, I would never have removed valuable items like my laptop charger and my speaker, which would have cost me a lot of stress and a lot of money to replace. I didn't know it at the time, but now I know that in that moment, I would be lucky. That’s exactly what keeps me going. Right now, I feel unlucky. I feel like shit. But maybe this will create new experiences, in which the net outcome will end up with me considering myself lucky that I missed my flight, got re-booked on Air India, and lost my bags. Speculatively, say something had happened to the flight LX176 from Zurich to Singapore which caused it to crash. That’s quite extreme, but in that case my cancellation at Heathrow would have been a blessing. Sure, I can be angry when something bad or unlucky happens to me, but I have to remember that I never know what is going to happen. They say the most important thing in life is death, but I would argue its death coupled with the uncertainty of our future. If we lose either one, we’re fucked.  

I know I sound like a pretentious teenager who thinks he’s Aristotle. I obviously didn't come up with these concepts myself, in fact this whole thing on luck being relative is well defined, and I thought about it after seeing a video posted by a friend, very timely, on my facebook feed: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGVhOWqsBWM. 

Finally, this all makes me wonder: what is luck? Surely it’s just a collection of random chance coincidences and events which we give meaning to once we link them together in hindsight. That sounds pretty simple, but it carries a greater implication: that we will never know the real magnitude of any event, ‘lucky’ or ‘unlucky’, that we experience. Our luck only runs out when we die. In that case, could be something more? Fate? Destiny? I guess if you believe in that, it is. 

[wonderlandmind4]

Café Crema Chp. 5

Summary: The first time was an accident. The second time was coincidence. The third time is just unlucky. The fourth time is getting out of hand and the fifth may or may not be with intent. Otherwise known as The One Where He Spills Her Coffee.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Buckets of fluff. Alludes to Infinity War and the Snap as this takes place afterwards (so please, if you haven’t yet seen the movie, please do). Implied Smut…maybe…eventually. IW spoilers for this chapter

Words: 6.6k This is for @captain-ariel-barnes 4k writing challenge, which, congrats! This is my first ever writing challenge, with my first ever reader insert, so please let me know what you think. (gif not mine)

Fic Writing Challenge Prompt: “You Owe Me Dinner”

When Y/N wakes up a few days later, she’s nearly tempted to go right back to sleep. The temperature dropped during the night and she didn’t have her extra layer of the thick fuzzy blanket atop her duvet. She could feel the cold radiating off her bedroom window, and all she wanted to do was snuggle back up into the warmth of her bed.

She couldn’t though. Today was the day that YouTube Band and their demanding, prima-donna manager who finds it beneath her to organize events with lesser known therapy centers, were coming in. The band themselves seem to be super excited about it. It was just the horrible woman Y/N had been dealing with for the past few weeks that made her dread the day.

Forcing herself out of bed, Y/N got ready for the morning. She decided on a thicker pair of black pants, a cream colored long sleeve shirt, a quilted tan leather jacket with matching knee-high boots and a thick white scarf. She would be inside for the majority of the day, hoping to avoid the crisp weather despite how much she loves it sometimes.

Y/N arrived at the Center earlier than usual, making sure everything is set in stone before the band comes in. Colin is already there, usually when her sister has early work meetings, she brings him by. Y/N greets her nephew with a tight hug, signing and asking him if he wants to help her color a thank you card for the band. He nods excitedly.

After the card and coloring is finished, Colin spots Millie coming with her parents and heads off to see her with one of the other OT’s. Y/N takes this as her chance to find Elizabeth in her office, an orange crayon still in her hand. She knocks on her door frame, pulling the blonde-haired therapist’s attention away from her notes.

“I rode on Bucky’s motorcycle.” Y/N informs her as a greeting.

The OT quirks an eyebrow. “Is that a euphemism?” She deadpans. Y/N throws the crayon at Lizzie. She cackles when it bounces off her arm and lands on her desk.

“Why do I tell you things?” Y/N questions aloud.

“Because you seem to be incredibly infatuated with Bucky and you don’t know what to do with yourself.” Lizzie states, leaning back in her seat.

Y/N opens her mouth to deny it, but Lizzie beats her to it.

“Dave told me what happened that day. Don’t you think there’s something strange going on here?”

Oh something strange is going on alright, Y/N thinks happily, but she doesn’t voice it.

Lizzie continues. “Some mischievous version of fate messing with you both. I mean, it’s like you’re magnets or something being pulled towards each other. I’ve always been good at reading your face, Y/N. You like him.”

She’s about to deny it, but she can’t. Y/N sighs in defeat. “I think you’re right, Lizzie. Christ, that’s fucking terrifying.”

“Because he’s the former Winter Soldier, pardoned, now one of newest avengers, also dubbed White Wolf and has diplomatic immunity because of Wakanda?”

Y/N gives her a flat look. “Because I’ve never fallen for someone this quickly before. Somehow it feels…it almost feels like I’ve known him for months already.”

Her friend shrugs. “Sometimes it just happens like that. When you have a connection, you have a connection. I mean, you’re a grown woman, Y/N. It’s different to fall for someone quickly now, then it was when you were younger.”

Y/N remains silent, thinking it over. Sometimes people can just be enchanted by someone, and it can be so simple to just start a friendship; hell, even be blindsided by a spark of something more.

“Why did you ride his bike?” Lizzie questions after a minute of silence, pulling Y/N away from her thoughts.

“He said he was looking for someone to at look it.” She answers. “Which, he never answered my question about Tony Stark not looking at it or something. Anyway, I told him about my uncle’s shop, so we took an impromptu trip to Coney Island. We ate funnel cake and talked for a while. Then he brought me home and I-“

She clears her throat. “I kissed him on the cheek, said goodnight then practically ran inside.”

Laughing brightly, Lizzies says, “Y/N. That sounds like a date!”

“It was not.” Y/N disagrees vehemently.

The OT just shrugs, knowing she can’t convince her. “Well, did you finally get his number then?”

“No?” She asks confused.

Lizzie rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I swear.” She mumbles amused.

Y/N chooses to change the subject then. “Anyway, I came here because I’m running to Ella’s, before the band arrives. Want anything?”

“I’m good.” She declines, tapping her travel mug. “That reminds me. The place providing lunch called to confirm again.”

“That’s three times.” Y/N shakes her head. “I’ll call them back, thanks.” She turns to go.

**

Arriving at the café, Y/N is relieved to find the line to be short. She’s only behind two people, glancing at the menu board as she waits. Her eyes light up when she sees the option for maple lattes, a sign that November has officially rolled around. She beams at Pete when it’s her turn to order, but he just glares at her.

“You tell Bucky I’m giving back his money.” He demands, pointing a nonthreatening finger at her. “A hundred bucks was too much.”

“Pete,” She chuckles, “it’s been like five days. He’s not going to take it back.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped distracting him, coffee wouldn’t haven been spilled and I wouldn’t be standing here trying to find ways to give it back to him.”

“Distracting?” She frowns.

“Yes, honey. Haven’t you seen the way the Sergeant looks at you?” Pete smirks, then pats her hand on the counter. “It’s the same way you look at him.”

Y/N is taken aback by his statement, and she can feel her cheeks warming up. “Please tell me what you’re talking about.”

“In all of your meet-cutes, each time ends with the both of you giving each other heart eyes.” Pete laughs softly. “It’s kinda adorable, actually. You’re both so smitten with each other. Coffee soul mates and all.”

“That’s not a thing Pete, and I have no idea what the hell you’re going on about.” She says.

Although her stomach has been filling with butterflies this whole time. She suddenly recalls her earlier conversation with Lizzie. She just didn’t know how obvious it was.

“He’s just…I just…shit.” She glares at him. “I hate you.”

Pete throws his head back, cackling. “I knew it!” He chirps gleefully. “You like him, Y/N.”

“I’ll have the maple latte, extra, extra large to help me deal with my irritating friends, please and thank you.”

He’s still laughing as he punches in her order.

“And the pumpkin French toast.” A saccharine smile on her lips.

Finally, he stops laughing and groans. “Dammit.”

“You said if I were to ask for them you’ll make them. I know just how much you love making them.”

“It’s a good thing you’re my best and favorite costumer.” He tells her fondly taking her card as payment.

Beaming at him, Y/N takes her card back and goes to sit at the same table she was at when Bucky crashed into her life. She clearly didn’t realize then how much they would see each other after, and how weeks later, they’re somewhat friends, and Y/N has developed a crush. She shakes her head at the memory and waits for her food.

Once she’s finished eating, she brings her plates to the counter, Pete scolding her for doing so. She bids him goodbye, grabbing her nearly empty cup of coffee and steps outside. For some reason, she can’t help the feeling of disappointment as the cold fall air greets her. 

Y/N is only several feet away from the café when she realizes why. She had been expecting to bump into someone, and that someone wasn’t there. Abruptly, her side purse is buzzing, so she pulls her phone out to answer.

“Hey Liz-“

“They canceled!”

Y/N stops in her track. “What?”

“They cancelled, Y/N! That prissy manager called and pulled out! Said the band was above doing performances they aren’t getting paid for.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Y/N spits into the phone. She isn’t directing it at Lizzie. “We are paying them! I’m so- oh my God, I’m so mad right now, what the fuck.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do? The kids are expecting entertainment today, they were so excited.”

“Of course she didn’t call me, she knew I’d lay it into her.” Y/N sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Y/N. What do you want me to tell the children?”

Dropping her hand away from her face, Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t kn-”

She abruptly stops talking. Up ahead, halfway down the sidewalk, Y/N spots an all too familiar head of shaggy drown hair, and broad shoulders despite the black leather jacket. Her mind races, and it only takes 0.5 seconds for her to come up with an idea.

“Lizzie.” Y/N focuses her attention back on their conversation. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’ve got a solution.”

“What? Really!?”

“Tell everyone that the band couldn’t make it, they’re sick or something. But tell them I have a surprise instead. I hope I have a surprise. I’ll call you back.”

She hangs up, sticks her phone in her pocket, and starts brusquely walking back towards the café with determine, confident steps. Y/N downs most of her coffee only leaving a little at the end; four times of spilled liquid being enough to last her a lifetime. 

She hopes this works, and she hopes her plan will go her way. Y/N is able to sneak behind a small group of women, and just as they pass the shop, she side-steps them, and knocks straight into a solid, vibranium made arm.

The purposeful impact causes her cup to tumble from her hand, and she makes no effort to stop it. Bucky however, reacts quicker this time, as if he was also expecting for this to happen again. His left hand shoots out so fast, Y/N can barely spot it. He catches the drink and his fingertips break through the thin material of the cup.

Bucky looks as if he’s about to be horrified again, embarrassed almost. Except when he realizes only a few drops of coffee are dripping to the ground, he tilts his head in bemusement. Y/N was rather impressed by his reflexes this time around, and she has to hide her amusement by rubbing her lips together. Bucky glances up at her, offering her a sheepish smile.

“Impressive.” Y/N quips. “How come you couldn’t do that the last two times?”

Bucky fish mouths for a few moments, it’s endearing. He seems to snap back to it and smirks. “Been adding coffee spilling prevention to my workout routine.”

The response makes her laugh. “Committed to your work, are you?”

“Absolutely.” His smirk evens out into a full smile. “What are you doing here at this time? Don’t you have that event today?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here. I was wondering, if you aren’t busy or anything.” She bites her lips nervously for a moment, noticing the way Bucky’s eyes light up. 

“That band I was telling you about, apparently their manager just decided to cancel the last minute and now they aren’t showing up. Which means there’s no entertainment for the kids today. Which sucks because they’re expecting a fun day, and I just really hate to disappoint them.”

Bucky reaches forward, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “Y/N, take a breath, darlin’.”

“Right, sorry.” She grins shyly.

He returns it and she takes a deep breath. Satisfied, Bucky drops his hands away.

“Right. I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor? I was thinking, maybe having some superheroes come by instead? You, I’m asking if you can fill in for that band?”

Her eyes slip past Bucky’s shoulder. Steve has been standing there the whole time, arms crossed in a relaxed pose. His eyes are dancing with amusement and there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. His blue eyes shift between her and Bucky.

“Um, you too, Captain. If that’s alright?” Y/N shifts her gaze back to Bucky. “I mean, if you aren’t busy saving the world and all.”

Chuckling, Bucky says, “There’s not a pressing need for it at the moment, I don’t think.” He pauses for just a moment. “I’d love too, Y/N. I mean, we would- yes.”

Y/N feels her heart swell, and she swears it’s because he agreed and not because of the way his eyes reflect off the sunlight. Her bites her bottom lip, attempting to keep her smile tampered down, but it beats out. She beams at him, her mouth spread so widely her cheeks ache.

“Really!?” She confirms excitedly.

Bucky nods, opening his mouth to speak, but Y/N launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He releases a soft grunt of air, catching her around the waist, the coffee cup falling to the ground. The all too familiar, comforting smell of leather and forest fills her nose, and Y/N realizes belatedly that she just fully crossed the line of personal space.

But then she’s thinking back to the few nights ago, when she pressed her chin to his shoulder, and when he caged her against his motorcycle at Coney Island. 

Before she can get lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat against his chest, Y/N slowly pulls away. She doesn’t miss the way Bucky’s fingers linger and graze her sides though, and she needs to snap back into work mode before she can think too hard on it.

“Thank you!” She squeals, pulling out her phone again. “Seriously, you’re saving the day.”

“Glad I can help.” Bucky smiles, his cheeks looking a little darker in color. He pushes his hair behind his ear. “Is there a time you want us there?”

Y/N glances at her phone. “It’s almost nine now, so around 11? You can have coffee or breakfast. It’ll be for maybe two hours as well if that’s okay. We’re providing lunch too.”

“We’ll be there.”

“Great!” Y/N bends down to pick up the cup from the ground. “It’s six blocks from here, right on 15th and 7th.” Her phone begins to ring, and she shoots Bucky an apologetic look. “I have to run though, but I’ll see you in soon?”

“Wait.” Bucky takes a step forward to grab her hand before she can leave. “What if we get lost or something? Can I have your number just in case?”

Y/N moves her gaze briefly again. Steve Rogers just snorted behind his friend’s back, his head dropped back and staring up at the sky. His reaction makes her curiosity spark, but she ignores it in favor of smiling at Bucky.

“Yeah,” Y/N answers almost breathlessly. She mentally scolds herself; his touch and his question and his incredible cobalt eyes are affecting her. “Yeah. Here, give me your phone.”

He releases her to pull out his phone and unlocks it. Y/N takes it, her fingers grazing his as she does so. She quickly adds her number to his contacts, choosing the coffee mug emoji to put next to her name and sending a text to herself. She smirks when she hands him the phone, Bucky laughing under his breath.

“I really have to go though,” She tells him, beginning to back away. “Prepare things, and uh- I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, Y/N.” Bucky agrees, a rather soft tone to his voice. “See you soon.”

She waves at him. Abruptly she remembers Captain Rogers there as well, aware of her surroundings more now that Bucky’s scent isn’t clouding her head. She smiles awkwardly, then heads down the street. When Y/N is about to turn the corner, she glances back, sees Steve laughing with his hand on his stomach and Bucky punching his arm.

**

“Holy shit, Y/N, you’re amazing.” Dave whispers excitedly at her. “We’ve never had an Avenger come in before. How did you manage that?”

Y/N makes sure the little kitchen area they have is set up correctly. As she’s handing Dave a food receipt she answers.

“Helps when you literally run into one of them.”

“Oh my god,” Lizzie giggles from the doorway, catching their attention. “That’s what you did?”

“What, what did she do?” Dave questions, looking annoyed that he’s left out of the loop.

Clearing her throat, Y/N informs him. “I may have run into him. On purpose. With my coffee.”

“You’re going to give that man an ulcer from all the stress you cause him.” He shakes his head.

“This is, what-” Lizzie starts, “the fifth time now? Did you at least get his number this time? Or a real date?”

Y/N ignores them both as her phone vibrates. She pulls it out of her pant pocket, a spark of excitement igniting in her stomach. Instead of answering, she shows them both the screen.

“Now, if you are quite finished.” Y/N rolls her eyes fondly, “I’m going to greet them, and bring them up. Everyone’s ready?”

“Yup.” Lizzie nods, a proud smile on her face. “Go get your man.”

“I’ll hide any and all coffee.” Dave pipes in.

“If we weren’t surrounded by children, I’d say something rude to the both of you.”

**

As Y/N steps out of the elevator onto the main lobby floor, free of her leather jacket and scarf, she spots Bucky instantly. Next to him is Steve, dressed in his Captain America uniform, or rather, an older version. She holds back her chuckle, stopping by the front desk to allow them access and give them guest passes.

“Hi again.” Y/N greets brightly, stepping directly in front of Bucky.

He isn’t wearing that navy blue vest that he usually does in battle, but he did change from his casual gray shirt from two hours ago into a dark blue button up. It makes his already enthralling eyes pop vividly against the color. He’s kept his chestnut hair out of the bun, but tucked behind his ears.

“Hi.” He chirps back, a nervous tilt to his smile.

“I just want to thank you again for agreeing to this. Honestly, this means so- oh. Hello.”

Y/N stops mid-sentence, because suddenly several other Avengers walk through the doors. She can’t help her mouth from dropping in surprise. She glances at Bucky and Steve, then back at the others. Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Spider-Man in his full suit since his identity is still secret, and Sam Wilson.

“Bucky?” She questions softly, “What-“

“I called them.” He interrupts her gently. “I figured the children might enjoy the day even more than just with a couple of 100-year-old men.”

Warmth begins to seep into her veins, and Y/N knows it has nothing to do with the heaters inside the building. The cheek aching smile is back, minutely shaking her head because she can’t really handle how thoughtful Bucky was. She only asked him and Steve, a last minute thing, and here he was, calling in his friends as well. Their little moment of just staring at each other is broken when a rich dark hand nearly shoves Bucky aside.

“Sam Wilson.” Sam introduces himself, a genuine smile on his lips but a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Bucky winces, then quickly turns to introduce Y/N to everyone else. She shakes their hands, greeting them all brightly, then grabs extra passes. After Y/N hands them all out, she escorts them to the elevators. Before she presses the button to call the elevator to bring them up, she turns to give them the run down.

“First,” Y/N commences, “There’s about twenty-five children today. They’re all super cute and sweet and they have no idea you all are here, so thank you again for coming. It means a lot to us. Second,”

Y/N points to Bucky. “If they ask you to show them how to take your arm off, feel free to tell them no.”

A laugh startles out of Bucky’s mouth, the rest chuckling as well. “I’m assuming that’s not the first time they’ve asked someone?”

“They ask Lizzie, and Kristen, two of our Occupational Therapists, to show them all how to do it. They always try to trade their own prosthetic’s, but as they’re each individual and uniquely fitting, you can see the problem.”

“Tell them no, got it.” Bucky agrees, still laughing.

Y/N moves on to Wanda. “If they ask you to make them float in the air, say no.” To Spider-Man she says, “same if they ask you to web them to the ceiling so they’re hanging upside down.” To Steve –“ If they want you to bounce them on your shield-“

“Say no.” Steve answers for her.

“Basically, anything you think a child wants to do that’s even remotely a bad idea or dangerous, say no.”

“So, no darts then?” Clint pipes up sarcastically.

“Unfortunately, their throwing skills aren’t up to par to the great Hawkeye, so no.”

“I like her.” He whispers to Bucky, who just elbows him in the ribs with is left arm. Clint winces then glares at him.

Y/N shoots Bucky a triumphant look. “We have some activities set up, coloring and puzzles, that sort of thing. But this is just mainly a hangout session. Most of these kids are here every day, and the therapy can get grueling on them, so we like to give them something that’s fun and makes them happy. They all love you, by the way, so I hope this will make their day.”

Finally, Y/N hits the button and the doors to the elevator ding. She allows them to board first, following after Bucky. As the doors slide shut, she subtly taps the back of his hand, his skin warm and smooth. They share a quick look, Y/N mouthing thank you once more. Bucky’s fingers graze over her knuckles briefly, before pulling back and disconnecting their contact.

Anytime, He mouths backs.

**

The surprise goes over much more enthusiastically than they all expected. Each kid is ecstatic, all taking turns and hugging each Avengers several times. Once the hugging and the loud chirps of names calm down, a few of the kids begin to take each different hero’s hands and tugs them to a corner or table to the center.

Bucky lingers behind Y/N. He looks a little apprehensive around the kids, as if he isn’t quite sure what to do exactly. She proves herself right when Bucky leans closer to her.

“I haven’t really done this before.” He confesses in a whisper. “What if they don’t like what they see? What if they don’t like me at all?”

“Impossible.” Y/N says way too quickly. She catches herself too late, and clears her throat, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. “They love you, Bucky, honestly. A superhero who helps save people, who helps save the world, who also shares something that is apart of them?” She glances at his bionic arm, half on display of dark blue and lines of gold with his sleeve rolled up to his elbow.

“You think so?” He asks, like he needs reassurance.

Y/N nods her head to a different part of the room. “I do, Just Bucky. See?”

His gaze follows hers. An older girl, Maliyah who is eight, is shyly waving at Bucky. She’s one of their newer kids to the center, sitting in a wheelchair as she is only just beginning to learn how to walk again with her new prosthetic right leg.

Bucky shoots Y/N an inquiry glance, and she nods encouragingly. Bucky walks over to Maliyah, meeting her half ways as she was coming over to them. She gestures to the wheels of her chair, showing him blue and gold design of the wheels, modeled exactly in the pattern as his arm.

Y/N stands there for a few minutes, watching the interactions. None of the children seem disappointed that the band didn’t show up, and she’s just glad that she was able to bring other people in to make their day. The smiles and giggles of the kids in the center reminds her of just how much she loves her job.

Unfortunately, she still has emails to answer and phone calls to make, so Y/N is in and out of her office for the next hour. Between phone calls for future events, including the upcoming holidays and fundraisers, she leans against her door frame to view the Avengers entertaining the kids.

Wanda is twirling her fingers, showing off some of her powers as she lifts crayons and markers into the air. Some of the younger children clap, and a few of the older boys stare in awe at her. One little girl is attempting to braid Wanda’s hair, and bless her soul, the Avenger sits there patiently.

Sam is making a group of older kids laugh hysterically as he retells a story of him flying through the air. Apparently, he had taken flight and some how forgot it was Fourth of July and was dodging fireworks all night. He’s animated in his storytelling, and with permission from Lizzie, picks up one of girls and zooms her around to demonstrate.

A light tinging noise pulls Y/N from looking at Sam to the other corner of the room. Captain America’s new shield is sitting on one of the coloring tables, and Steve is just allowing one of the youngest kids to tap out a beat with his prosthetic hands. Steve smiles over the boy once and a while, then he goes back to drawing pictures with the four other kids surrounding him.

Clint has found Colin, and they are sitting quietly in the corner playing with Legos. Every once and a while, Colin will take pieces from Clint’s pile and throws them a few inches, giggling every time Clint dramatically crawls over to get them. They make a game out of it, and he even surprises her when he signs to her nephew.

Spider-Man has a group of girls and boys, all asking him questions. They range from how he can stick to walls, to if he can control spiders like Ant-Man can control ants. He shows off to the kids by flipping backwards and they all clap giddly and laughing.

Y/N moves her gaze around the room until she spots Bucky. Millie has attached herself to his side, marveling over their shared left arms. Maliyah is still next to him, holding a smaller boy, Jacob, in her lap. He allows both Jacob and Millie to play with his arm, curling his fingers and tracing along the lines of gold. Maliyah, who is extremely bright for her age, seems to be asking Bucky about the scientific making part of his arm, and he seem just as intrigued to answer her the best he can.

“This is amazing.”

Dave’s voice pulls Y/N from her thoughts, ripping her eyes away from Bucky. She has no idea how long she had been staring at him for, but the look on Dave’s face says it was a while. She nods in agreements.

“Careful, Y/N.” He jokes quietly. “Your fond is showing.”

“Hush.” She hisses at him, elbowing his side. “This is strictly for the children.”

He goes to respond, when the phone rings in her office. Y/N sighs tiredly, beckoning behind her. Dave nods his head in understanding as she goes back to work.

**

There are times when Y/N wonders how she has so much patience when it comes to seemingly heartless people. She’s been on the phone for the past hour now with a big sponsor of Loving Arms. She listens to their rambling, her leg bouncing rapidly, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her stomach is churning, and it’s beginning to make her patience ware thin.

“I just don’t understand why your company has abruptly decided to drop our Center.” Y/N repeats for the tenth time. Her voice is harder, colder at this point. “You’ve been a sponsor for us for years, and suddenly we’re too small a scale for you?”

“We’re sorry.” The man Y/N has been speaking with doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “There just isn’t enough publicity.”

“Alright, so tell me. How am I supposed to let these children and their families know that they can no longer afford therapy sessions and prosthetics because you decided to give up on them? That you dropped us because, what, we aren’t good enough? Sorry, we only care if your facility is rich because that’s the only way we’ll even remotely associate you with us. You guys are doing a stand-up job there.”

“Well, unfortunately, Ms. Y/L/N, that isn’t our problem. That’s yours and your Loving Arms-“

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Y/N snaps, a fierce protectiveness washing over her. “You do not have the right to drop us, pulling your sponsorship away, then bad mouth my Center. We care about our patients here, and we don’t heartlessly hound them for every last one of their pennies. Thank you for your business, but I think we’ll be fine without you now. Have a lovely day.”

Y/N hangs up the phone rather harshly, smacking it back down on the receiver. She leans back in her chair, dropping her head back and growling at the ceiling. A soft knock on her doorframe snaps her head forward again.

Bucky is standing there, holding a plate of food as an offering. There’s a slight look of guilt on his face as he walks in.

“Brought you some food because Dave said you’ve been cooped in here for an hour.” Bucky explains, setting the plate down on her desk. “I was wondering where you were.”

“How much did you hear?” Y/N sighs deeply.

“Enough to know that people suck?” He shrugs offering her a sympathetic grin.

She chuckles and he takes that as his cue to enter her office. He hands her the plate of food, but as his arm moves closer to her desk, she makes a point of moving her empty coffee mug to the opposite side. Bucky glares playfully at her before his mouth morphs into a smirk as he sits in the chair across from her.

“I got you everything because I didn’t know what you liked.” He explains, pointing to the array of chicken nuggets, fruit, a wrap and a sandwich.

“Thanks, Bucky.” Y/N smiles appreciatively at him, popping a grape into her mouth. “How’s it going, Mr. Popular?”

Bucky chuckles softly, and the noise makes her heart flutter a little in her chest. He pushes back his long hair with his hands, his eyes lighting as he just stares at Y/N for a few moments.

“You were right.” He answers quietly. “They seem to love me.”

“You’re an inspiration to them.” She tells him truthfully. Bucky scrunches his nose. “Do you not believe that?”

That same look appears in his eyes again, the same one that she noticed when he returned her shirt. The one he had when he invaded her personal space and caged her between his arms against his motorcycle. The one that makes her heart beat just a little bit faster.

“I do when you say it.” Bucky whispers, suddenly twisting his fingers together. “Because I think that’s what you see in me.”

Confidence seems to take over Y/N, because her response is something more of a confession. “I see a lot more in you, Bucky.”

He blinks in surprise. “Y/N-“

She doesn’t get to know what he was going to say, because the phone rings. Y/N has to tear her gaze away from Bucky, something much harder to do, and glances at the ID. She rubs at her temples with her fingertips, shooting him an apologetic look.

“I have to answer this.” She winces, already dreading talking to those sponsors yet again.

Standing, Bucky nods. “Good luck, I’ll try catching you later?” He asks, hopeful.

Y/N nods, smiling brightly at him before picking up the phone.

**

Needing another round of coffee after that second phone call, Y/N make her way to the kitchen. What she sees in the activity room halts her in her tracks. She hides herself half behind the wall, leaning against the frame.

Bucky is kneeling so he’s on a closer level to Colin. Her nephew is pointing at his arm as he tries to speak, but can’t form the words properly. Colin begins signing quickly in his excitement. To her amazement, Bucky smiles brightly and signs back to him. Colin makes a happy, enthusiastic sound, throwing his hands in the air.

The little boy proceeds to grab Bucky’s hand, allowing Colin to play with his arm as Bucky gently pokes at his cheek, making the boy laugh loudly. Y/N watches on fondly, that damn warm feeling coming back and spreading throughout her body. When Bucky looks up for a moment he meets her gaze, and he’s calm and bright and any reservations are long gone now. 

It makes her heart flutter. She bites her lip to contain how big her smile is, and Bucky blinks, then looks away, a light tint to his cheeks. Y/N turns away, leaving them to have their cute little time together.

**

Y/N sighs as she gets off the phone once more, proud at herself for not yelling at the band’s manager, but also happy that she was able to put her in her place with sharp words, and that they will no longer be reaching out in the future. When Y/N leaves her office, the center is missing several super heroes, and one in particular.

“Where’d Bucky go?” She inquires aloud.

“They left remember?” Dave answers, holding a trash bag. “You were on the phone when they were saying goodbye?”

She vaguely remembers someone stopping by her office, but then leaving when she was in the middle of talking. Y/N hurriedly makes her way downstairs, hoping she can catch him. When the elevator doors slip open, Bucky is already out the door. Y/N quickens her pace, catching the door before it closes and nearly stumbles outside. Thankfully, he isn’t far at all, so she leans forward to catch his left hand.

“Bucky, wait.”

He turns, eyes wide in surprise, but a smile on his lips. Steve motions the rest of them will be waiting and continues walking. Y/N releases his hand, waving goodbye at the rest of the Avengers.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Bucky begins with a small shrug. “I was looking for you, but you were on the phone. We got called for an urgent mission.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you them.” Y/N says lightly, about to go back inside.

“No,” He shakes his head quickly, stepping closer. “I wanted to say goodbye to you.”

She ignores the anxious flutter of wings in her stomach. “I just really wanted to thank you again. For agreeing to come in the first place, and you didn’t have to call anyone else, but you did. You made them all so happy, Bucky. Thank you.”

“I was happy to do it.” Bucky tells her, “and if you ever want me- us- to come again, we would in a heartbeat.”

“I appreciate that.” She expresses honestly, smiling. “They really did love you, I hope you know that.”

“Thanks.” Bucky chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re all amazing kids. Colin’s your nephew, right?”

“They really are.” She agrees wholeheartedly. “And yes, he’s the light of my life, that one. Well, I’ll let you go hero it away then. Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Y/N, really.”

She nods. “Well, you have my number now, so, y’know. Warn me when you want to meet up and spill my coffee again.”

“I promise I’ll warn you ahead of time.” He laughs. “Have a good day.”

“Have a good mission.”

They linger for just another moment, then she waves because apparently she can’t stop, and turns back to go inside. Except, the shy expression on Bucky’s face just now, and the genuine, good heartedness of the man standing before her reminds her of everything she’s been feeling lately. 

It’s slow, but it’s there. It sparked on the day they met, and it’s been burning like embers. It’s growing, and as Y/N has told him before, sitting on that bench sharing a funnel cake, she’s not going to hold back. She gains confidence and spins around.

“Actually.” Y/N pipes up. Bucky turns around as well walking towards her. “That reminds me.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows in question, waiting for her to elaborate further.

“It’s been like, five times and like twenty coffees at this point, spilled in various ways and the majority of it on me.” Y/N pauses. “I think you should make it up to me.”

Bucky goes from looking slightly guilty, to bemused in two seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, but she beats him to it.

“You owe me dinner.” Y/N states lightly, but with confidence she is faking because she’s nervous as hell.

He frowns, looking like he’s trying to comprehend what she just said. It only takes a few moments for realization to dawn on his face. A slow smile stretches across his full, pink lips, crinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“Come again?” He asks, but there’s mirth dancing in the water that makes up the color of his eyes.

She bites her lip briefly before letting it go. “I think you owe me dinner.”

Then, Bucky laughs, a softy breathy little noise. “I think you’re right, Y/N.” He steps closer to her. “That, I would love to do.” Suddenly, his face falls. “I can’t tonight though.”

“I know,” Y/N nods in understanding. “Avenging and stuff. I get it. No rush. Just, let me know when.”

She waves once more, and attempts to leave again, but fingers wrap around her bicep. His grip carefully pulls and spins her back around.

“7:30.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. 7:30. Is that alright?” Bucky inquires nervously.

Y/N beams at him, her heart rate speeding up. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s a date.” He smiles, then reluctantly let’s go of her arm. “I really should be going now.”

“Is…” Y/N starts, “is it dangerous?”

Bucky scrunches his nose. “Might be, we don’t know for sure yet.”

She frowns fleetingly, concern flooding her chest. Y/N raises her hand to touch his chest. She realizes her little move, then quickly removes her hand in favor of grabbing his left one. She squeezes his fingers, the cool, smooth vibranium reminding her that he’s more than capable of taking care of himself. It doesn’t stop her next words though.

“Be careful.” She tells him quietly. Her eyes locked on his to convey how serious she feels about it.

Bucky comes closer, lifting his right hand. His fingertips graze along her cheekbone, before tracing the length of her jaw, sending a thrill of goosebumps scattering across her skin. His gaze drops to her mouth for a second, before snapping back up.

“I will, Y/N.” He promises, offering her a private smile.

Altogether, Bucky ceases contact, dropping his hands and stepping away. He waves once, then turns and follows Steve who had been waiting for him. Y/N catches the smug, yet proud expression on the Captain’s face as he wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders.

A cold breeze picks up right at the moment, and Y/N ran outside without her jacket or scarf on. However, she doesn’t feel the bite of the weather, just the blooming touch of heat leftover by Bucky.

****************************************************************

Previous  Chapter 6

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