#we got zero passerby calls about this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiridarling · 4 years ago

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𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂!

izuku midoriya | tw!guns, single mom!reader, bouncer!izuku, domestic stuffs, tit sucking, mommy!calling ah, AND daddy!calling oh my, breeding kink, breaking the bed (futon). minors dni!

— 5.4k words

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?”

The alley is dark.

There's a disconcerting feeling as you step deeper into the quiet darkness,

You turn to look at the door you entered this dank place from, but it's just as dark and grimy as the walls. You're almost positive that if you rested a hand against them, it would return pitch black, and if you stood in one spot for more than five minutes, the sticky booze would glue your heels to the floor. You're surprised when it doesn't.

"Hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt, pretty lady."

He's a smarmy looking bastard and as thin as they come. It’s clear this isn’t something he does on the regular, the pointed gun quivering so much you worry a trembling might slip and pull the trigger. And you fucking freeze, blood running below zero and heart plummeting because why you?

And fuck, you’ve got a kid at home with a babysitter, and there are many outcomes to this situation, none of them too cute.

"I said hand it over," he grunts, pressing forwards. Your back hits the grimy brick wall as your eyes dart to the mouth of the alley, where life continues, where cars race past, but no one sees a damn thing. Fuck. Fuck.

And it's not like you have much—hell, you may be a mother, but you know how to party. You squeeze your eyes shut, grip tightening around your purse as you clumsily fumble through it and the man steps closer. You toss all you have to his feet. A fucking twenty. He raises an eyebrow before eyeing your watch. He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"That it?"

You nod, taking a shaky step back.

"Well, that ain't fuckin' enough."

There's a click and you're positive it's him turning off the safety. His face twists like he's about to shoot a bullseye, and you squeeze your eyes as tight as they can go.

Until the looming shadow of the stranger disappears, followed by a sound that's distinctly skin on skin. Er—skin on bone.

You don't watch the fight. Frankly, you don't want to, and you still get to hear your protector spew a litany of curses and disrespectful phrases that should really only come from someone's mother. You don't even open your eyes, still screwed shut with a vice grip around your purse and wallet.

"Um, excuse me Miss? Are you alright?"

Your protector's eyes are much bigger than you expect them to be—and green. You realize you remember seeing those eyes, hardened from across the club.

He's hesitant to touch you, hands rising and falling and rising again. Though you suppose a hug seems like it'd be a little abrasive, it also sounds like the exact kind of thing you need right now.

"U-Um, yeah I'm..." you start, before noticing your attackers body bloodied and wrapped like a pretzel on the ground. "...Fine..."

He sounds like he's going to pass out—he doesn't.

"We should um, we should get you home," As he speaks, the greenette shuffles you out of the alley and into the streetlamp light, blinking himself out of something before holding a meaty hand out of formality. "I'm Izuku by the way. Izuku Midoriya."

For such a big guy, Izuku seems rather timid, and yet, seeing him at the entrance with crossed arms in a black tee and a scowl in the club doesn't give you much insight into his personality. Which makes you wonder why he became the club's bouncer in the first place.

"Um, nice to meet you," you nod, trying to suppress the shake in your hands as you take his. "Y/N."

Izuku smiles at that, and even though you're a regular, you've never actually seen him beam on the job. "Cool! Cool, so...um, I don't really feel comfortable letting you walk home...alone..."

You nod—he panics as if you aren't already on board.

"'Cause it's like, a conscience thing, you know? Like, I really won't be able to sleep tonight otherwise," Izuku defends, shoving a clumsy hand in his green curls. "B-But if you don't feel comfortable with it, or something, that's totally fine! I know what you just experienced was horrible, and you probably do—"

"Izuku."

"Yeah?" He perks up. It seems as if the circuit his mind runs finally comes to a stop.

"I'd...feel more comfortable if you walked me home. Too."

Your innards ache at the stiffness in both your voice and figure, but Izuku doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he beams, standing ten feet taller, and you think—yeah. You'd feel much safer if he did.

"O-Okay! Cool!" He confirms a bit stiff himself, and then, in a smoother motion, holds his hand out to take. "Shall we?"

Your red palm claps over his, and you snort quietly, "We shall."

You two walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence for the beginning of the walk—you lead the way and he silently trails behind, glaring daggers at any passerby with lingering eyes as you march on, unknowing.

"So um, do you come to Club 777 often?"

Which is a question you know he knows the answer to, completely aware you almost come every Saturday. But you smile at his attempt to start a conversation anyways, hands tucking underneath your armpits in search of warmth.

"Yeah, sometimes. Just trying to get out and stuff. Y'know, away from the kid."

"I get that," he nods with a smile, before tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Oh! Are you cold? Here—wait, let me."

He shucks it over your head and your positive it messes up your hair. But you find that you don't care much, especially in favor of the warmth that it provides.

And then, "You have a kid?"

"Yep," you say, tucking your fists into the jacket pockets. "A big two-year-old potato waits for me back home."

"Oh," Izuku chortles at your description before tucking his hands into his jean pockets too. Licking his lips, his eyes dart to the street, "I...assume your boyfriend watches him for the night? Or husband or whoever."

"Uhm, not quite," you chuckle towards your feet, though it's a touch acrid. Izuku picks up on it immediately.

"Oh I'm so sorr—I didn't kno—"

"It's fine, Izuku really—"

"I—but I shouldn't even be assuming what if you had a wife or girlfriend or—" he takes a second to gasp, and your eyes widen in fear that he'll choke, "—or if they're nonbinary or—"

"Izuku," you knock him on the shoulder and he finally shuts up. "It's fine. I get it all the time."

He falters, but at least he seems to relax. "Really?"

"Yes," you giggle behind a hand, and the greenette smiles at it.

"O-Okay, cool."

Flecks of gold swim in Izuku's green irises and you find yourself noticing them now, suppressing the urge to advance closer for a better look. You stare long enough to watch his smile relax into a comfortable line, but you snap out of it once he kicks a rock, the sound of the gravel skittering across the floor tugging you out of your reverie.

"I'm not very good with kids, y'know," he says as an afterthought. You snort.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Like what am I supposed to feed it? French fries?"

"Toddlers aren't it's, Izu." You can't tell if he flushes from the nickname or from what you said, but either way, it's enough to prompt another laugh. "And maybe start with baby food?"

"Ah," Izuku nods, and you guide him in turning a corner. "That would make sense.

"It would."

By the time you stop in front of your red front door, it's almost three am. You figure you caught Izuku right after he got off work, if the cheesy All Might sweatshirt you're wearing is any evidence of that, but either way, he looks like he's about to fall flat on his face.

"You can stay for the night, if you want," you offer, albeit meekly, and Izuku lifts two hands with insistence.

"Oh! No no no please, I'm fine," he shakes his head so quickly his curls bounce in a flurry, and you genuinely worry he's going to pass out when he tries to blink himself awake. "Just...not used to staying up this late is all."

"Then stay," you offer with a shrug, and your orange porch light flickers. "It's the least I can do. I've got a bed and a futon, and I'm fine with sleeping on either."

"I..." Izuku's green eyes flicker towards your door before back to you, "I really shouldn't. I'm a stranger an—"

"And I'm offering."

Izuku's eyebrows fold with the dilemma, but you grab his hand with a tug and a smile, while your free one shoves the keys into the door. "C'mon. Let's get you some rest, yeah?"

You can't tell if Izuku blushes or if it's just the lighting, but either way, his chest inflates in protest before deflating in resignation.

"Okay."

With a smile, you turn the doorknob. Your door has always taken some shoulder to get open, so you don't hesitate in shoving your collarbone into the hardwood. Izuku cringes at the sight.

"Mama!"

Your hit in the legs first, nearly stumbling back with a quiet oof. You look down to see Max wrapped around your legs like you're a fucking jungle gym, grinning with two missing teeth and a bandaid over his nose.

It's three am.

"I'm done," your babysitter grunts. "He doesn't listen when I tell him to bathe, eat, anything—I fucking quit."

And with that, they slam the door behind them, house rattling under the pressure. You sigh. There goes another one. Fuck.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Izuku grumbles under his breath disapprovingly. You smile at the arms crossed over his chest until Max peeks around your legs to see...

"A new daddy?"

"I—no, baby," you fight the embarrassment (and the urge to say you fucking wish) by picking the little one up by his armpits, smiling when he thrusts his hands in the air and goes weee! After he's comfortably cradled in your arms, you say, "He's just staying the night."

"Like daddy did!" Max defends with a giggle before rushing the greenette with open arms. Izuku just looks at you with a shrug before kneeling to take a hug to the chest as Max chants, "New daddy! New daddy!"

And, well. There's no stopping him now.

You peel your heels off your cramping feet and sigh at the fucking freedom, toes uncurling from the scrunched position it feels like they've been holding the entire night. You curse under your breath when you realize since Max is awake you've got to put him to bed too, and honestly, if you knew this babysitter was going to be just as useless as the others, you would've just let Max run fucking free while you lived life for a few hours. Not like that outcome would be any better.

"Alright Maxie, c'mon."

You take him away from his celebration with the greenette and though he pouts, he allows his mother to gather him in her arms.

"Do you um, need help?"

You turn to see Izuku awkwardly shifting in the doorway from the request, hands behind his back with pursed lips. You shake your head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have to put him down really quickly and then I'll be—"

"Mama, I'm hungry. I want chicken nuggies." Max loops his arms around your neck and tugs so hard you worry about your bones. You shake your head with a sigh and a pout.

"It's too late for you to be up, bud. You can have chicken nuggies for lunch tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

But goodness. In this state, it'll take hours for him to relax—and you still have to unfold the futon for Izuku.

Max whines and kicks his legs but doesn't say no, meaning he's not really that hungry, he just wants to stay awake. "But—but what if new daddy's gone in the morning like the last one?"

Fuck.

"Max," you sigh, giving him a light shake so his matching eyes look into you yours. You speak a little softer, "Izuku's not your new daddy, okay? He's a houseguest."

Max's face drops. "Not eve—"

"No, Maxie," you sigh, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Now let's go to bed, okay?"

"I can—I can put him down if you'd like! So you can get into something more comfortable and stuff. I mean, I've never worn a dress but sweats are so much better, you know? Or shorts, or...whatever you wear to sleep."

You understand the many points he's trying to get across, one being that's he's not a creep, just a nice guy, and you suppose you and Max can live in your "new daddy" fantasy for a little longer. Even if you know this one will be gone by morning.

"Um, okay yeah," you say, voice a little thin, before handing your child over to the greenette—who bounces into his arms excitedly. "I'll be back, then? His room is down the hall to the right. The one with the race car bed."

Izuku's eyes narrow as he processes your directions. "Down the hall to the right—okay! I'll just go take this little guy to bed, then."

"Okay, thank you," you nearly bow, because Izuku just saved both of you so much time and he doesn't even understand how. "Oh! And good luck."

"Good...luck?"

"Yep!" You say with a wink and a pat on the back before scooping your heels and booking it back to your bedroom with a cackle. Time to get out of this dress. Fucking finally.

You realize that being alone is much more unsettling when you've had a gun held to your head today.

Every little noise just seems off, like it could belong to something more than it actually does, even the silence; you find yourself shoving your head through your t-shirt abnormally fast, eyes blinking to take a survey of the room to ensure that you're alone. You are. It's fine.

And that's what you tell yourself when you close your eyes to run a wet rag over your face, and again with the dry one. All of a sudden, you don't like the way your bathroom window faces the open backyard nor do you like how dark it is outside. You don't like how big your bed looks, and goddammit, you haven't even gotten into it yet.

Pushing all uneasy thoughts aside, you stumble out of your bedroom with a fresh face and a new outfit, stilling in Max's doorway when the greenette doesn't notice you. Resting against the frame with crossed arms, you smile.

"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am. You know, when I was a kid I—oh, he's asleep."

Izuku tucks the snoring boy in his lap under the covers with a gentle grin, pulling them underneath his chin. The greenette takes a second, watches Max's chest rise and fall a few times, before ruffling the tuft of hair on his head with a snort, and walking away.

You don't even think Izuku sees you until he practically sashays out the door, winking, "Good luck, huh?"

To say you go red in the face from that is an understatement.

"How do you do this?"

"Do what?" You ask as you pulling the futon in your living room forwards. Izuku yawns before gesturing to the clock with a shake of his head.

"Take care of a kid, and work, and go to a bar every Saturday evening? It's four am, and something tells me you've been up for a while. I'm practically dead and I wake up at one pm every day!"

You chuckle at that, jumping on the bed with your hands and knees to ensure its lays flat...and ensure that it won't make an Izuku sandwich at seven in the morning. "You build up stamina after a while, I guess."

"No shit," he gestures to you as you utilize the entire length of your body to put the sheets on the mattress. He would help, but you told him no, insisting that he'd only make this take longer. "Are you sure you do—"

"Nope," you huff, clapping your hands together. "I'm done."

Izuku blinks at the made bed, to you, to the made bed again, and then back to you with wide eyes.

"Mommy magic."

"I—" you blink towards the ceiling to see if that even makes sense, but you figure fuck it, it's four am, with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to call it."

In reality, you feel like you're about to pass out.

"Um, so I don't really have pj pants and I don't think you'll have any that'll fit, so..."

"Yeah no, I definitely burned all the shit my ex left—"

"Aha okay, cool, um, so just boxers...are fine...?"

He looks down at his black jeans and back to you, raising an eyebrow. You toss a nonchalant shrug in return, and you hate to say it, but your inner school girl goes—dick outline.

"O-Okay, then," Izuku says, and you watch his hands curl around the waistband. "I'm just gonna—"

He shucks his pants so hard they hit the floor, and your eyes widen because...well...looks like he's just gonna do it then.

Until Izuku's hands rush to cover his crotch (which you weren't peeking at, you weren't) and you realize that maybe you should've stepped out of the room or something.

"U-Um—that was fast—"

"I thought—thought you were going to uhm, turn around," he flushes, a funny contrast to the way his muscles fold under that black shirt, and your feet move to turn around like he ordered you to do it.

"Sorry! So sorry," you try to apologize, but now his dick print is burned in your brain, and...it isn't that bad.

"It—It's fine! I'm in the bed now so, you can turn around."

You laugh awkwardly and scuffle to turn, as you do, and Izuku beams at you from the bed with a wave.

"Hi," he says, his lower half-tucked under the covers. You wave back.

"Hi."

Izuku's eyes dart to you living room tv before the come back to you. "So uhm, I guess this is goodnight?"

"Oh right," you perk up at that, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs like there's something on them. "Time to go to bed, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, chest shuddering before he says, "so uh, sweet dreams?"

You smile tight at the kind gesture, and your hands opt to pull at the hem of your shirt instead, eyes drifting to an old pile of records you haven't regarded in months. "Thanks! You...too?"

Izuku smiles, though his eyes drift, "Yeah..."

You beam back. You figure you should probably go now, or something, until you think of something and slam a fist into your palm. "Oh! Also, I meant to thank you for saving me. I'm not sure if I did that. Did I do that?"

The greenette shrugs, "Uh, I think so?"

"Okay! Okay. Cool," you nod, flashing a tight smile. "Mmk. Night Izuku."

"G'night."

And see, you would move—except it seems as if your feet are glued to the floor and won't move no matter how hard you try, to the point where it feels like your straining and they're going numb, and yet you're still staring at Izuku's pretty fucking face.

"C'mon," he chuckles, scooting over on the futon to make extra space for you. "If you take all day, the beds gonna get cold, and then I'm going to have to crawl into yours like a creep."

"Oh my fucking god," you snort one breath and move to flick off the lights before stumbling through the darkness for the futon. "You're so weird."

"Weird in a good way, I hope," he lifts the blanket and you slide under—and swear your knee grazes his before it's snatched away.

"There's no weird in a bad way," you say once you've settled comfortably, tucking your hands under your head as you lay on your stomach. Izuku mimics your position, though he takes up much more of the blanket, and you find that it drapes over you like a tent over his shoulders. Neither of you close your eyes, for some reason.

"Hi," Izuku whispers.

"Hi," you smile back.

"Okay," he huffs, face twisting in determination, "Now it's goodnight."

"Right," you nod, but your eyes don't close. "Goodnight. Of course."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he says with a chuckle, and you can't tell if his eyes flicker to your lips or if you imagine it. Either way, you look them just in case.

"I better not have bedbugs," you snort. "I clean this place like a motherfucker."

Izuku's nose twitches at that with a nod. Moonlight pours into your living room and colors his pale skin silver, though you figure it won't take the sun much longer to color it a strawberry pink. "You really do. It's...different when it's quiet."

"Yeah," you agree, placing your hands on his chest. It shudders under your palms. "Kinda personal, huh?"

"Mhm," he nods, and though his hands wrap around your wrists, they never pull them away. You lift an eyebrow.

"A bad personal?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate, breath nearly ghosting your lips as he says, "Hardly."

"Would you..." now it's your chests turn to shudder, and sliding a hand up to play with his ear, you bite the bullet. "Like to get more personal?"

Izuku's lips melt into a grin against yours, "I'd love to."

His lips are softer than you thought.

Maybe because you assumed all of him was a bumbling mess, including his chapstick application; but they're fucking pillow-soft, and you don't realize how deprived you are until his hold around your body turns from protective to sensual and you melt from his heat.

"Fuck," Izuku huffs between kisses, growling when your grip around his neck tightens. "Watching you from across the club for weeks can do a thing to a guy's patience, you know."

"Oh?" You snort as he presses enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, hot and wet, and painful once his teeth dig into your collarbone. "A-Ah, Izuku—no marks."

"O-Oh! Sorry," he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and shiny with spit. You smile at the reaction.

"'S okay, Baby," you giggle at the speed to which his muscles go lax, and his eyes droop to your chest when you scratch the back of his head.

"Can I—can I suck your tits?"

He asks so bashfully it's nearly innocent, and you find your eyes dropping to your chest along with his before you're ditching his All Might sweatshirt all together.

"God," Izuku's eyes flutter as he gathers your breasts in both palms, groaning at the sight. "They're fucking perfect."

You shudder as his thumb ghosts a nipple, and Izuku dips an experimental hand under your lacy bra and pinches. Hard.

Your thighs jolt and hands fist the sheets, and a moan comes from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Izuku's hand rocket to cover your mouth.

"Shh—you don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

You shake your head, but it's hard to keep quiet when your nipples are as sensitive as they are. Izuku doesn't seem like he really means that statement, though, lowering his head with a devilish grin as if he knows that for himself.

“Sensitive, Mommy?”

“O-Oh um,” you flush at the nickname, and even more so when his lips close around your nipple and suck. Tangling a hand in his hair, you sigh, “Yeah, a little.”

Izuku hums at that, eyes fluttering to watch you bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to muffle a moan, hissing as his teeth dig into the hardened bud. He pulls off with a slurp and moves to the other, but not without a few kisses across your chest.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?” Izuku nearly growls out before biting into the opposite nipple, and you shudder as he dips a scarred hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties. He chuckles after sliding a finger through your slit. “So wet for me.”

“It—It’s been a second,” you sigh, grip tightening around his shoulders as he slides a finger in. Even Izuku has to bite a lip at your tightness in anticipation, mouth descending over your nipple once more to send frissons of fire up your spine.

“No shit,” he grunts around your nipple, curling his finger. You gasp. “Think I can fit another one in there?”

“Why don’t you try?” You giggle, but it dissipates into nothing but air as he does, his two fingers filling you up enough to elicit a sigh.

“How’s that?” He breathes, face hovering over yours. As your hands coil around his neck, his free one reaches for your inner thigh and pulls it back far enough to give him a better angle as he presses you into the mattress.

“Good, it’s good,” you nod, and your hips start to move on their own, bucking forwards as if there’s any more finger left for you to fuck. (Spoiler: there’s not.)

“Good,” he breathes, eyes going glossy as he watches you writhe under him. You're positive that you're carving painful red lines into his back, but considering the way his eyebrows fold every time you do, makes you wonder if he doesn't mind. "Fuck I can't wait to fuck you—I can fuck you, right?"

"No Izuku, I'm just letting you finger me for fu-u—fuck."

He slides in a third finger and for some reason, it burns a little—but the burn only makes your eyes roll further, and he's stuffing you with a chuckle.

"What was that?"

"I-I—you're not pla—playing very fair," you huff, chest shuddering as he tilts your hips higher for a better angle. You suppress a scream when his fingers curl, jolting forwards at such a speed it makes the futon creak. Izuku tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from going too far.

"No one said anything about being fair, Mommy," he teases, and you whine when he removes his fingers, tapping them against your lips. "C'mon, you gotta get 'em wet so I can fuck you, right?"

You nod at the idea, enjoying the idea of being filled up much more, and coat his fingers to the point where they're dripping when he pulls him out. Izuku's chest rumbles.

"So good for me," he purrs, using your spit to coat his cock before he's sliding his head between your folds—you shiver, grabbing onto his back again. "Ready?"

“Mhm,” you nod, spreading your legs further—though you swear they do that on their own.

“Oh my, you’re um...tight...”

You whimper from the stretch and look between your legs, eyes widening upon seeing that Izuku’s much bigger than you had anticipated. Or had been warned of.

“F-Fuck, I can’t—“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, just a little more, okay?” Izuku nearly whispers into your lips as his hands move to rub your shuddering sides. Your eyes screw shut, “Jus’ a little more, Mommy...”

Izuku pushes deeper and you’re being split in half—because what else could that burn be—but you’ll admit, the feeling of accomplishment you receive once he bottoms out is surreal.

“Good—Good girl,” Izuku’s nearly quivering and plants his hands on both sides of your head with a huff.

“I-Izu,” you whimper as he starts to move, feeling impossibly full no matter how far he pulls out. Izuku shudders, mouth rounding into an ‘o’ when his hips slowly start to gain rhythm, and though it’s loud, you know the creak of the futon is unavoidable. You squeal as his head hammers into your cervix, pulling out a wanton Daddy before you have half a mind to shut the fuck up. You nearly freeze, and yet, all Izuku’s hips do is speed up.

“Yeah? Want me to be your new Daddy?” He moans, and you dig your nails into his back with a nod. The greenette curses at that, biting his bottom lip and his hand drops between your legs to rub at your clit. With thighs seizing around his waist, you slam a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck—I make you feel that good, Mommy?” Izuku nearly wheezes, eyes suppressing the urge to screw closed, “So good you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut?”

“Y-Yeah, I—“ you gasp when he lifts your hips off the bed for a better angle, hands fisting the sheets. “Harder, Daddy—“

“Oh Mommy, if I go any harder I think I might break this bed,” he says, borderline bashful, but you find yourself saying fuck the bed as your hips buck in search of a feeling he refuses to give you. Izuku’s chuckle strains as he says, “So needy, Mommy. You that needy for my cum?”

Clawing at his back, you try your damnest to stutter out a yes. Izuku chuckles at your desperation before he cuts himself off with a groan, eyes rocketing to where you’re both connected as you tighten around him.

“F-Fill me up, I wanna—“

“You want another baby, Mommy?” Izuku pants, and you’re so close you start to feel a buzz in your thighs, praying he isn’t too far behind. You nod vehemently with a gasp and his lips slide into an exhausted smile, "Fuck, of course you do—and you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? All of it.”

Izuku finishes his sentence with a growl, pressing you further into the mattress—it squeaks like a squeaky wheel, and when it thunks a level lower both of you yelp, the back of the futon thumping on your hardwood floor with each thrust.

“Told ya,” Izuku wheezes, eyes scrunching in a chuckle. You return it.

“It—It’s old anyway,” you reply, but your eyebrows fold as quickly as they unfold from the crash. The creaking futon increases in pitch as his hips pick up the pace, “Fuck—fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum.”

“What’s my name?” The greenette challenges, and you find yourself shivering at the dominance he exudes. The finger on your clit disappears and you whine, knowing damn well you can’t cum without it.

“Daddy—Daddy please—“

“Good—fuck, so good for me,” his hand returns to your clit and you sigh at the feeling. As the coil in your gut threatens to snap, his hips speed up, and Izuku pants, “We’re gonna cum together, yeah? Cum with me Mommy, c’mon—“

“Fuck!” You drag red lines down Izuku’s back as you quake under the weight of your orgasm, broken bed whining as Izuku thrusts all his weight into you. Digging his teeth into your shoulder, the greenette cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering into yours for the final time that night.

The room fills with a comfortable silence, minus the panting, and Izuku rolls onto the mattress next to you with a bounce. It creaks, whines, and then drops again, catching both you and the greenette by surprise. (Again.)

“I think—I think we broke it,” Izuku says towards the ceiling as he catches his breath. You giggle at that, hands laid across your sweaty stomach, and turn to him with your head in the pillow.

“Gives me an excuse to buy a new one,” you say with a shrug. Izuku chuckles back.

“I guess,” he teeters his head to both sides. “I can...also pitch in, if you want. Since I broke the thing. Technically.”

His offer sounds apprehensive as if he’s encroaching in your space, as if he hasn’t been all up in your space less than a minute ago. You smile. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thanks.”

"And um, breakfast? I mean," he snorts, though it seems rather defensive, and his eyes rocket to the ticking clock on your wall. Your eyes follow: five am. "I mean—fuck um, I feel like this might be weird but I think you're cool? Um, yeah, so breakfast, I can make it if you want because you're so busy being motherly and stuff and plus, it's Sunday but again, if you don't wan—"

"Izuku," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his gut with a little squeeze. "Breakfast sounds nice."

The greenette beams and his chest stutters. "O-Okay cool! Cool, cool. Breakfast then?"

You snort, driving your palm into his face to shut him the fuck up. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku giggles, getting the message, and coils his arms around your shoulders to provide a comfort you haven't felt in a very, very long time.

"G'night Mommy."

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #CLUB 777 #izuku smut #bnha smut #mha smut #midoriya smut

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years ago

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shinrin-yoku (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.7k, PG Summary: When life's difficulties hit, Noelle navigates her way through them by turning to the nature. Category: Hurt & Comfort Warnings: mentions of trauma

A/N: May is a Mental Health Awareness month and here in the UK the theme is nature. My MC, just like me, runs to the woods when things get tough. It helps her clear her head and reconnect with inner strength.

I struggle with mental health myself and it’s important for me to speak up and address the subject. There is nothing worse than shaming or discrediting someone’s difficult feelings. It’s fine not to be fine.

If you struggle alone, please don’t. My inbox will welcome you with open arms. Two heads are better than one, even if we just complain, at least we can complain together 💜

For @choicesmaychallenge2021 Day 13 - Mental Health

SHINRIN-YOKU - A Japanese term for ‘forest bathing’ or the sense of well-being you experience while in nature.

It all starts with a seed. This tiny element which, without aid, is sentenced to certain death. But give it the right soil. Give it water, sun. And it can grow. Into something big. Powerful. Scary.

She is five years old.

They live in a townhouse, a classy Victorian era building. Undistinguished, one of many merging into the background of a typical London street. The colors are also very standard, dirty white married to ivory beige, bar for the deep green door - their rebel child.

For the random passerby, it’s nothing special. But for her, the walls of a storey house encapsulate the whole world.

The garden behind the house is neat and clean, visibly well taken care of. She doesn’t remember exact details anymore, but she remembers begging her parents to go camping in the garden with her brother. The ticklish feeling of long and slim blades of grass on her tiny feet. Looking at the stars with pure awe and delight, that only the unspoiled mind of a child is capable of.

The plot of land that the house has been built on borders a beautiful forest. A wooden fence separates the two.

To her, it’s a passage to a magical world.

A world without any particular order, living its own life, unconstricted by rules. Not in the slightest does it resemble the garden on her side of the fence, where things grow according to the rules laid out by the adults.

There is a feeling inside her that she’s too young to name, to throw it in lingual context. It’s not until years later that she realized what it had been. Freedom. To grow however you please. To be what you want to be.

Robust, effuse trees tower over her, making her feel so small. As if she hasn’t already been feeling small enough, living in a world full of giants.

But they mean something else too. They bring a secret and a promise. Promise of a bigger world out there, far from the confines of the place she calls home.

The forest draws her, singing a melody that only her heart can understand. One day, she will be a part of it.

She lives the teenage dream life.

That’s what everyone says.

She doesn’t have any real problems. She’s lucky not having to worry about money. She’s got friends. Her family is great. She just needs to stop whining. Her life is perfect.

Their words, not hers.

None of them know what happens behind closed doors.

The childhood forest is a cloudy memory. Her home is now thousands of miles away, in a city with a giant red bridge, which for some bizarre reason has ‘golden’ in its name.

But the call from nature doesn’t care about distance. It can find you about anywhere. It’s different and yet the same.

Because nature beats in one rhythm and speaks in the same language, everywhere.

The morning is chilly and humid. She’s wearing a wooly coat, carelessly threw on a pair of PJs hiding underneath.

Her steps are brisk, breathing short and heartbeat elevated. Something’s bothering her blanched face.

The voice, again.

When it first appeared, she thought it had her best interest at heart. Used to give her advice and like a good friend, ream her out when she did something bad.

Over time, things took a turn for the worse.

Snarky comments. Casually mentioned wrongdoings. Feedback on what she could have done better, differently.

Noelle hoped the voice would go away on its own.

It hasn’t.

Not only did the voice not go away, but it was actually growing stronger with each passing day. Became more vocal. Judgmental. Openly hostile.

It fed on her fears.

It’s your fault - it told her - that your parents are getting divorced.

You are not good enough.

Even a lie, repeated enough times, will finally become the truth. And so it did for her, to the point where she couldn’t distinguish her own voice from the voice of the tormentor. Sounds faded into one.

Whoever said words can cut like a knife was right. But those who knew thoughts could leave scars that are much deeper, were truly wise.

The young, beautiful girl who never hurt a soul, became a hostage. A prisoner locked in the jail of her own head.

A giant tear rolled down her face. Made of all the words her heart couldn’t say.

She hugged the tree tightly and inhaled the woodsy aroma, the scent filling her lungs fully.

It’s sensuous.

Just like that, she is small again.

She’s got all that she ever wanted.

Degree from one of the best medical schools. Graduating with honors and glowing recommendations from even the strictest professors, who kept assuring her that her future in medicine is so bright it’s actually blinding. Then, a dreamy residency in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country.

Pretty impressive, right? Even a fool could see that. But the only fool whose opinion she cared about, couldn’t. All these things were clearly not good enough for Ethan Ramsey to stay.

She wasn’t good enough for him to stay.

Not longer than a year ago he was just a concept, an ideal without a face, body and voice. To her, he was a celebrity, a hero, someone whom mortals don’t have access to.

It was preposterous to consider for even a second Dr Ramsey could actually see something in an intern.

Standing among the moss-covered trees, every fiber of her being was filled with the thought of him.

Did the Amazonian forest remind him of her, just like every forest around reminded her of him?

Just when she won the battle for her career, she lost another. Because life had to be a zero-sum game.

As painful as that would have been, she wished she had something to hold onto. A scene she could replay in her mind. An image of him walking away. Or saying goodbye.

But he left without a word.

That was the pattern. That was history repeating itself.

She took her shoes off and stepped on the soil frosted with morning dew. It’s cold and wet. It’s refreshing. She is grounding. Reconnecting with Earth.

Tunes in with the rivers of grass, towers of trees, fences of bushes.

If the trees could speak, they’d tell stories not many people would believe in.

Tales of heartbreaks. Parables of spirits.

They are all nature’s poems.

Hauntingly beautiful. Riveting. Written without a single word.

Because nature speaks its very own language that only the soul, not the mind, can understand.

Pain is ripping her apart. But it reminds her that she’s alive. And this, in itself, is a miracle.

She doesn’t know who she is anymore.

Some people call her a survivor. But it doesn’t feel like the right word. So many things in her died. So much was lost.

The attack took a lot from her. Danny. Bobby. Sense of security. Identity. Direction.

Right and wrong, good and bad, righteous and vicious. These are all just words. Someone needs to come and teach her the meaning of them anew. Draw lines, mark out frontiers. Save her from herself.

The ground is soaked. Torrential rain turned the soil into soft mud, warm and easily slipping through her fingers. She falls on her knees, praying for the ground to consume her.

Fill every part of her. Silence the internal cacophony. To sink into oblivion.

Not many people knew about the panic attacks and recurring nightmares. They’re always the same.

She’s standing in the middle of a swamp. Danny and Bobby are drowning, their arms reaching out for her. She knows she can only save one of them. She runs out of time trying to figure out how to save both. As a result, they both die. Time stands still and yet everything is spinning, moving, racing. The reality is a riot of overbright colours.

Suddenly, a ring breaks the silence. A polyphonic intruder. She looks at the screen through hooded eyes and notices the caller’s name. It’s him. He’s petrified. Worried to death. Asks her to stay where she is.

Some time later, maybe 10 minutes, maybe an hour - who knows? - he emerges from the gathering of stocky oaks.

The moment he catches the sight of her, he starts running. She notices a lab coat underneath the jacket. He’s soaking wet.

Even though he is so close, he doesn’t slow down. Crashing into her, he scoops her in his arms. Catches her in the tightest of embraces.

Asks her if she’s fine. No. Not that question again. She’s tired of people fussing over her and gets angry.

Had it not been for the attack, would he even be here? The voice asks mockingly. It doesn’t matter to her. He’s there now.

Deep baritone is gentle and full of concern. It’s not like that. It’s not his intention to fuss. He’s simply worried. Because she is the most important thing to him in the whole world. Yes, he wasted so much time. That’s why he refuses to lose even one more second.

A dam breaks within her. Eliciting a quiet sob. She clutches his shirt, holds onto him for dear life. Moments later, she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Singing her poignant birdsong.

How is she supposed to cope? Will things ever go back to normal? What is normal anyway?

In the confines of the infamous patient room she never felt more scared in her life. But here, out in the open, she feels so safe. As if she’s had a silent agreement with nature, which vouched to protect her at all costs.

And this time, nature had an ally. Because Ethan will protect her, even if it’s the last thing he does. Holding onto each other, they stand in the nothingness.

It keeps them grounded. Connected to their roots. Turning over new leaves. Bending before they break. Growing.

They get lost. Mother Nature has a reward for those who do. They have a chance to find themselves. Over and over again.

~~~

If you made it this far - thank you & you're awesome 🥰

Tag list: @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @terrm9@starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @jamespotterthefirst @lisha1valecha @writer-ish @maurine07 @drakewalkerfantasy@iemcpbchoices @liaromancewriter @lem-20 @lucy-268 @oldminniemcg @queencarb @qrkowna @mercury84choices @lsvdw-blog @utterlyinevitable @stygianflood @udishaman @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @binny1985 @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @archxxronrookie @tinkertailorsoldierspy @schnitzelbutterfingers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @theinvisibledreamergirl @custaroonie @irisofpurple @chasingrobbie @ethandaddyramseyx @quixoticdreamer16 @coffeeheartaddict @takemyopenheart @aworldoffandoms @potionsprefect @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #Ethan Ramsey x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #mental health awareness

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calpops · 4 years ago

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falling facade | c.h.

part three: falling fears

part one: falling flowers || part two: falling freedom

5k words

<< >>

“This is why I don’t visit.”

Arden’s voice brought Calum back to the moment. They sat in his car, parked just off from a coffee shop he and Ashton frequented for paparazzi walks. Calum turned to look at her; she kept her eyes straight ahead, staring at the two paparazzi that lingered on the sidewalk, ready and waiting to snap some photos for press. Calum swallowed down a lump in his throat. She’d just given him an answer to a question that drifted through his thoughts from time to time; unprompted and said with annoyance evident in her tone. She was stoic, a facade of calm covering her features as she lapsed into silence, offering no further explanation to her statement.

“You don’t visit Michael because of paparazzi?” Calum asked, trying to make sense of her reasoning.

“Among other reasons,” she said and turned to him. “There’s no privacy out here. It’s like they’re everywhere.”

Calum tapped his fingers on the wheel, still gripping it, even still buckled in although they parked minutes ago. Neither seemed in a rush to live their first contractual agreement. He contemplated her words and thought how best to respond. He understood where she was coming from, especially when cameras were ready to capture their every move lingering just in front of them. But there was more to it than that; a different side she didn’t know and hadn’t seen.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asked and released his grip on the wheel, hand rubbing at his jaw then settling on his lap as she nodded; eyes interested and waiting. “Paparazzi rarely ever find us. It’s almost always set up. Called in and tipped off. Prearranged, just like this. They don’t get to have all of us. Not all of the time.”

Arden pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side, deep in thought at the shared secret. Calum waited with bated breath to know her thoughts. To see if she understood the implications he was trying to lay before her.

“I guess that’s true,” she said but then shook her head, deciding against it. “Except, if it isn’t paparazzi then its fans and if it isn’t fans then it’s management and social media and interviews and social climbers and everything is so invasive. Even when it’s all constructed and contrived. There’s always someone or something that’s in your face, using your name, controlling your life.”

Calum didn’t have a response for that. He frowned. Her words settled under his skin and spun his thoughts, bringing them to places he hardly ever ventured to. He had always done his best to live authentically past the glistening temptations of fame and the control that management hung over his head and heart. She was right in some aspects. But he didn’t want her to go into this situation feeling like she was already losing herself before even starting the game. He wanted to redefine it all; play by their own rules and stay themselves in the face of something fake. He blew out a breath and unbuckled his seat but Arden made no move to do the same. Her eyes just flitted up and down Calum, still waiting for his response to her truth.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he finally replied, the seatbelt sliding up and away from him, his hand reaching for the door handle.

“I’m pretty sure we just learned the hard way it is exactly that way.”

Calum watched her right hand settle on her left to twist the fake engagement ring around. It was a new nervous habit and a pointed reminder that her words were valid and they were living under a state of control. Her nose twitched and a sigh escaped her lips and for just a second Calum allowed himself to remember the sweetness he knew they tasted of. They hadn’t talked about that yet, or the fact they woke in the same bed with only underclothes on and no memories to speak of how they ended up that way. There was so much to contend with already it didn’t feel right to arouse new troubles and complications. Calum didn’t know how to get her out of the car but he could see the paparazzi were getting bored waiting; they’d stick around for the money shot of the ring, being the first to capture it would be considered an accomplishment in their world. But the longer they waited the worse the shots would be, the more invasive and irritated they’d get.

“Then let’s not let them have all of us,” Calum suggested and slipped her sunglasses down to cover her eyes. “Show the ring, give them that much. Let’s keep whatever’s real for just the two of us.”

That was the closest Calum had come to admitting there might be something more than a fake engagement in his thoughts. That only two nights ago he had felt like he was falling in ways he probably shouldn’t. That one friendly date and a fleeting kiss had worked their ways into his mind in unrelenting ways. He couldn’t tell her that, not when he wasn’t quite sure what it all meant, and not when they were supposed to be pretending. Not when he didn’t know where she was; if she was okay or not as okay. He could ask her but her ability to evade time and questions and circumstances was daunting. He caught the slight smile she gave him and although her eyes were blocked by the dark lenses of the sunglasses he could imagine they were softening. That the inhibitions she had might be calmed by his efforts.

She finally reached for her door handle and Calum took it as a statement of being ready to face it all. They exited the car and Calum didn’t just reach his hand out for hers this time; not like he did at the wedding. He slung an arm over her shoulders, pulled her close and kept her as hidden from the cameras as he could manage. Her hand came up to hold his, showing off the diamond in the afternoon sun. They wanted the ring, and they could have it. But they couldn’t have her.

They heard the snaps of the cameras, the distant calls of the paparazzi making mild remarks about their sudden engagement. They asked a few probing questions they knew they wouldn’t get answers to. Why haven’t we seen you together before? How long has this been going on? What does Michael think of it? Those were questions they would have to answer eventually. But conversing with paparazzi was never a good idea. Management would likely have them answered in a controlled environment and in any case he didn’t have the answers they wanted. Somehow, answering with it was a drunken accident didn’t seem like it would go over well in any sense. Calum could see the two men on the sidewalk, spared them one glance for a good face shot and tried to drown them and any remarks out as they entered the coffee house. Arden stayed tucked into his side and he hoped the cameras hadn’t gotten much of her face and that she was able to let their words fall away from her.

The line to order was long but it gave them a chance to step away from the cameras and find some semblance of privacy. Venetian blinds covered the windows to keep outside eyes from peering into the establishment. Even though they were out of the way of cameras Calum kept his arm around Arden and she kept herself glued to his side. They moved along slowly and Calum looked down at her and maybe she could feel his gaze and that’s why she looked up, or maybe she was looking up to find him just as he had looked down to find her. She was blushing and biting her lip.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” she whispered, going on tiptoes to better whisper in his ear. To a passerby it might have come off as affectionate. To Calum, with the way her lips nearly brushed his cheek again, it felt intimate. “It’s like… a game.”

He smirked but also felt a pull of remorse in his chest. He was glad it wasn’t so bad for her; it possibly even being in the okay category. But how quickly she was suckered into the game and picked up on it was disheartening. He refused to let them be pawns in a wider scheme more than was necessary. He had fleeting thoughts of shaking the groundwork of public relation stunts. He wanted to play exclusively by their rules while staying within the lines of the contract and meeting all the obligations. When listening ears were no longer around he’d mention it; among other things that needed to be brought up.

“We don’t have to play it their way, we can play it our way,” he suggested in an equally as soft whisper, pretending he was just placing a kiss on her temple.

All of these new forms of contact were coming quickly and winding Calum. His arm around her, hands held, lips brushing soft skin leaving him a bit breathless. The juxtaposition between such intimate embraces coming so quickly and two nights ago of such languid movements guiding them through uncertain territories was astounding. Arden nodded and tipped her sunglasses down, questioning him with an inquisitive look in her eyes. Calum didn’t have time to answer as the line moved along and they were suddenly at the front placing their orders.

With drinks in hand and the exit ahead of them Calum slowed his pace and brought Arden back into his side, knowing the paparazzi would be waiting outside for more. He knew damn well what they had given them so far was enough for a headline; something about the ring being in bold. But the photos were less than expected with her hidden face and his general lack of interest and enthusiasm. The pictures would likely zero in on the ring to catch interest and garner clicks. The walk back to the car came with a bit more vigor from the paparazzi as they realized the lackluster photos they got on the way in. They said things to try and rile Calum up, to get reactions and turn faces. But they remained calm and collected, trying not to make the obligatory event a spectacle. Calum was content to keep it that way until a fear struck through him and stopped him dead in his tracks.

“We need to give them something more,” he blurted out in a hushed tone and it was enough to have Arden pulling away from his hold. “They’ll spin this into something bad.” And they’ll make it your fault sat on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare say that.

He could already see the photos of his indifference—towards the paparazzi—being pegged as indifference to Arden. And she’d be dubbed as clingy for sticking to his side though that had been of Calum’s doing. They never showed the whole story, they rarely ever knew the whole story, much more content to run wild with wrong perceptions and lies veiled by half truths. Arden seemed to pick up on what he was implying and gave a small nod to show she was okay with whatever needed to be done. Calum didn’t want to give them too much, still wanting the power in their hands, determined to afford Arden at least a small margin of privacy. Her back was to the cameras when Calum gazed down at her, trying to convey love and admiration, and maybe not finding it all that hard to be convincing, as one snapped more photos and the other began filming the exchange. He pushed hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Fingertips tingled at the contact.

In a quick and bold movement Calum tilted her face up, pressed his lips to her forehead and nearly forgot about the cameras on them. Playing and pretending was much easier than the nerves at the meeting predicted it would be. It almost felt real. If it weren’t for the incessant clicks of the camera and the blinding flashes he was met with when his eyes opened, he may have been able to convince himself it was just for them. That it was another moment where he could feel the wind at his back and know he was falling. He put another kiss to her cheek and was tempted to give her another real kiss, one more brief moment of sugar sweet bliss, but stole himself and backed away from that want.

“That should be enough,” he whispered and wished dark lenses didn’t guard her eyes. He would bet they would be glistening in the sunlight.

He took her back into his side and finished the walk to the car, helped her into the passenger seat and got himself behind the wheel. An eerie trepidation made way through him. He wondered if it would be enough. Surely, they would use the photos and video of the kisses. Rarely did he show affection in public with past girlfriends. The media would eat it up. The fans would react. Management would be satisfied and unable to turn words and views against her; for now. A new thought struck him, one born of the need to have something other than pretending between them. One that might afford them a chance to speak of all those things that felt unmentionable.

“You wanna go somewhere? Do something real?” He asked as he turned the key in the ignition and the paparazzi began to back off, noting it was time to pack up and head home.

“What did you have in mind?” Arden asked as she pulled her sunglasses up to rest on her head and Calum was met with sparkling and curious eyes.

“Can show you where I go when I wanna get away from everything,” he offered, he had never shared this place with anyone. It was a tiny solace and getaway; a secret offering of peace and quiet. He was inclined to share it with her, to show the pieces of himself that no one else was allowed.

“If all of this is going to last a year I think I’ll need a place like that.”

Calum lost his breath for just a moment at that statement. He had grappled with most of the arrangement in the moment and that night as he laid awake in bed. A year of publicity for him seemed minimal. He was used to the ebb and flow of press and stunts. Arden wasn’t. It was a sudden realization that she would have to put the rest of her life on pause for this. She wouldn’t be able to keep chasing her wanderlust and travel, he wasn’t sure where she stood with a job and education. But those would likely take a backseat. He asked her to do this and now he wasn’t sure if he was okay with all of those stipulations. And for a moment he wondered where she would stay, thought that maybe it should be with him to make things easier until he remembered Michael and the fact he would never be okay with it.

“We can share it,” Calum offered and hoped she would be able to find some semblance of peace and solace too.

“I’d hope my fiancé would share with me,” she joked with a touch of a smirk on her lips and a wave of her hand to flash her ring.

Calum laughed, feeling just a bit of the pressure for her life altering changes lifting from his chest. Making light of it felt good. Mocking it made it even faker than it already was. There was truth in jest but the facade of those truths made words easier and realities a bit less to handle. They went back and forth as he peeled out of the parking spot and headed for privacy.

“So you’ll take my last name when we get married, right?” He asked around a grin that hurt his cheeks.

They were pretending and joking and making each other feel better.

“Oh I don’t know, isn’t that a little old fashioned?” Arden said with a tilt of her head. “And it would ruin my perfect initials.”

Arden Brooke Clifford. Miss ABC. Calum shook his head through laughter as memories flooded his mind. He had forgotten of the times he teased her for it, melodies rolling off his tongue to get a rise out of her. He didn’t know how he could forget and he didn’t know why she reminded him; clearly, he was going to use that in the future. For now he just smiled and turned into his piece of heaven on earth. It wasn’t much by any means but he had a feeling Arden might appreciate it anyway. One of few reasons he never shared it was because he didn’t think anyone would make much of it. But with Arden’s outlook on all that LA was and entailed he knew her perspective would be different than people from his past. It wouldn’t be much compared to the places she’d travelled and everything she had experienced in those adventures but he knew it could hold its own—especially when she was seeking something real.

A run down diner with the best food Calum could find sat before them. He found it charming with its slightly crooked windows and doors that said push though they needed to be pulled. He could usually find a seat within the always nearly empty establishment. He typically picked one in the back where windows left the city behind him. He couldn’t hear past brick walls and the din of radio noise with patches of static. It helped drown out everything and bring him back to a time when a place like this was all he could afford; chump change in his pocket and notebooks with dreams written in lyrics in his hands. Arden was smiling fondly in the passenger seat and that told Calum his hunch was right.

This time she didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and Calum had to race to keep up with her. She made her way to the very last booth at the back and slid into the seat that viewed the wall and not the windows on the opposite side. It was exactly where Calum sat his first time stumbling into the diner. He settled for the other side where the window was in his line of sight and found it to not be so bad when Arden was backlit by a starting sunset. Afternoon had come and gone quickly and evening replaced it in soft glows. Their coffee was left behind in the car and menus placated their now realized hunger.

“I like it here,” Arden said after the waiter took their orders. “Reminds me of my first semester in university.”

Calum loved to learn more about her in way of her offhanded comments. He was learning the less he asked the more he could find out. It was as if the pieces of her puzzle fell together on their own. It was more experience and less questions that prompted her to share. He recalled she was dating Brett, the groom from the wedding, during that time. A silent jealousy simmered under the surface.

“You and Brett went to places like this a lot?” He asked and knew it was selfish that his place—now their place—could feel like it might be tainted by the thought of it. But he was such a Brett and it was hard not to hate the guy, especially when finding out he’d dumped Arden. Typical Brett behavior.

Her eyes shot up at the question and she shrank back in her seat as she shook her head in minute bursts. Calum didn’t expect such a visceral reaction to the question; felt a little guilty about causing it but it was swept away in the blink of hazel eyes.

“No. I went to places like this to not be around him, actually. Sometimes I just needed to get away,” she said as she looked up at him from under her lashes with knowing eyes. “I’d just find some hole in the wall away from campus to sit and sketch.”

New waves of memories came back to Calum and he was beginning to realize he did know her from the past better than he thought. He could picture the drawings hanging on the fridge and as time passed and her art grew it moved from magnets to frames in the hallway. He never saw her working on them, they merely appeared from visit to visit, a collection of colors dominating space in the house. The only way he knew they were hers was the tiny signature hidden within the shapes. There was one in particular that jumped to the forefront of his mind. Sunset on the beach; or that was what he took away from it. It was more on the abstract and impressionist side. But the warm colors came back in swirls of memories and made him smile. Her art was a pivotal piece of her and her heart. Rediscovering her made him warm, getting to know her now filled him with something unknown yet somehow familiar.

“When the band was first taking off it was places like this that I’d come to to write,” Calum said, enjoying the fact that even though their pasts were separated and distant they felt connected and intertwined.

“If you hadn’t brought me here, I’d find that hard to believe.”

“How so?”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s just surprising. I thought you would’ve been partying or… something.”

Calum huffed out a breath and shook his head. Those days came later and at times he wished they hadn’t come at all. He licked his lips and let his teeth sink into his lower lip as he tried to figure out what to say. Those days were plastered online and in tabloids, he couldn’t exactly hide from them but he felt so removed from it; as if that person wasn’t him. He didn’t know how to answer.

“I guess I was wrong,” she said and gave him an easy out from where the conversation could head.

Calum appreciated her ability to pick up on when to ease up. There were people that came in and out of his life that didn’t understand that sometimes the past needed to stay in the past. Arden’s peg of social climbers clung to his past. He’d gotten rid of those people, cut back on partying and focused more on himself. It wasn’t a time he loved revisiting. He supposed Arden being so hard of opening up made her understand his outlook on that perspective.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Arden’s gaze never breaking from his. His fingers tapped the table. Paper placemats with advertisements and crossword puzzles sat in front of them, a small pile of multicolored crayons were deserted on the far corner of the table. Arden flipped her placemat to the blank side and reached for a crayon, giving Calum a smile before dipping her head down to concentrate on drawing. Her arm came up to block Calum’s view.

“Keeping secrets?” He asked, thankful for the sudden shift but couldn’t help but feel the double entendre of the simple question directed back to him and the silence they had lapsed into.

She nodded but didn’t look up at him; kept her eyes on her work. Her eyebrows furrowed and nose slightly twitched in her concentration. He asked if she would at least tell him what she was drawing.

“You,” she admitted nonchalantly and left Calum winded and grinning and wanting more than ever to take a sneak peek. “Sit still, no peeking.”

Calum went still as a statue at her command. A relaxed smile formed on his face as he watched her work. He couldn’t see the drawing but the red crayon in her grip was an interesting choice. Though the few different shades of blue and yellow still laying on the table would have been just as bold. It didn’t take her long to finish and look up with bashful eyes and blushing cheeks. He knew she was modest about it but her unrelenting hold of eye contact as she pulled her arm away to reveal the piece mimicked confidence so well he nearly bought it.

With just the couple of minutes she had taken to draw him she managed to make him recognizable and interesting. It was sharp and quick lines, angular connections and somehow soft eyes. Calum’s hand came up and hovered over it, eyes asking if it was okay for him to take. She gave her permission in the form of another nod and pulled the abandoned crayon off the paper. Just as Calum was bringing it to himself their waiter came out with their meals and broke the moment of awe he found himself in. He wordlessly and carefully folded it to fit in his wallet and tucked it away so it’d be safe from the food.

“Have you told your parents yet?” Arden asked as they started to eat. Her expression was guarded and her voice shook through the syllables. “About… us?”

“Not yet,” Calum answered quickly. “I didn’t know what to say when my mum called so I said I’d call her back. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with however we tell them. Maybe we should do it together.”

“Tell them about our drunken escapades together?” She asked with an incredulous arch to her brow as she shook her head. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents anymore than I already have.”

That statement caught Calum’s attention tenfold but much like Arden hadn’t pressed him, he wouldn’t pry; noting the restless fidget of her fingers bouncing her fork up and down. He figured she would tell him when she was ready. Just like at the wedding and in the car and even sat here at the booth. She was no open book but her pages could be read in small bursts of allowance.

“We can tell them whatever you’re okay with,” Calum offered.

“I’m not sure what I’m okay with.”

The contracts they signed included non disclosure agreements; to keep the facade from being known. In most cases Calum disregarded those when it came to family and the band if it ever didn’t concern the rest, knowing they wouldn’t share secrets. But if it was a secret Arden wasn’t comfortable sharing then he needed to consider her reasons. Michael knew but Calum didn’t know the circumstances between Michael and Arden and any discussions that may have taken place with them. Ashton and Luke had questions; enough to flood Calum’s phone with dozens of texts and voice memos. He hadn’t replied yet; once again wanting to be sure Arden was okay with the secrets being shared. He wouldn’t mind family and the band knowing. The contemplative expression on her face told him it wasn’t as cut and dry for her; he wondered why she didn’t want to tell the whole truth but in an effort to preserve the light mood and getaway they had found he changed the subject.

“We can figure it out later,” he suggested and the downtrodden mood suddenly dispersed as she broke from a haze of thoughts he didn’t understand. “Right now let's just enjoy some time away.”

She agreed to that with a timid smile and a whispered thank you. They spent the rest of the meal with idle chit chat and a determination to keep conversation away from the fears and troubles their situation plagued them with. They left when the sun was nearly set and the sky was dark purple, the air crisp and cool. Calum, without thinking, offered his jacket to her—never knowing how she could run around in tank tops and shorts when the temperature made him shiver past leather. With a blush and a shrug she accepted as they made their way back to the car.

“It was nice to do something real with you,” she said as they cruised down the highway, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

Calum couldn’t help but think of how real it had been and felt. His arm wrapped around her, lips brushing her face, sharing secrets and a special place, red lines on a placemat and tumbling fears shooting through both of them. It was calm and exhilarating. A perfect balance between the charade they put on for the paparazzi and the authenticity the diner brought them. Calum wanted to do something real in place of anything staged; wanted to find their own path to walk while simultaneously fulfilling written requirements. The next would be a social media post and thoughts of how to keep themselves real in the face of something so tailored and constructed were already surfacing in Calum’s mind.

Michael was outside when they pulled into his driveway and Arden slipped Calum’s jacket off. She gave it back with a bashful smile and leaned over for just a moment, another gratitude brushing across his cheek in a split second. He didn’t know why she was thanking him but he appreciated the feel of her words against his skin and the warm scent of honey and peaches that infiltrated his senses. He watched her leave, saw Michael lead her past the door and waited until it shut before peeling out. The quick drive to his place was silent aside from the hum of the engine. A hundred thoughts consumed him, some confusing and some that felt okay. The chance that something real—something more than a contract could control and define—might be blooming between them left Calum’s falling fears in a warm and airy embrace.

<< >>

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jounetsunosymphonia · 4 years ago

Text

Nocturnality (Mankai Stage Winter 2020 translation)

translation for the stage version of winter’s third play! song can be found in full here.

ALRIGHT FOLKS IT’S THE GAY PEOPLE. HERE WE GO. a lot of it is actually like...silent? you can hear it in the soundtrack ver that it’s just inst with some occasional sound effects and i’ll write in what’s happening, but i just think it’s interesting that that’s how they decided to go about showing things for noct. i mean, it makes sense. show not tell amirite.

cast list

Yukishiro Azuma (Ueda Kandai) as Kuto Reo Takato Tasuku (Kitazono Ryo) as Seo Kota Mikage Hisoka (Ueda Keisuke) as Franz Arisugawa Homare (Tanaka Ryousei) as Nonomiya Tsukioka Tsumugi (Aramaki Yoshihiko) as Izumi Ryohei

(the curtain rises. kota is going about his business, reading and sleeping on the couch in the foreground, going to work at his office. in the background, reo drinks from an unsuspecting passerby, but is accosted by a vampire hunter in white. franz shows up to have a knife fight with the vampire hunter, but reo is injured, and falls into kota’s arms as he’s walking home.)

Kota: Hey!

Reo: Help...me...

Reo: Good morning. You were a great help yesterday.

Kota: Did you make this?

Reo: It’s just from what was in the fridge, so it’s nothing special, but I wanted to give you something as thanks for letting me stay the night.

Kota: Amazing. What are you, a wife?

Reo: I’ve lived this long, but I think this is the first time someone’s called me a wife.

(kota takes a bite of the sandwich reo made him, but the funny part is that bc of the face shield requirement, it doesn’t make it to his mouth. the poor man can’t eat his wife’s cooking. rest in pieces.)

Kota: It’s good! I’m Seo Kota. And you are?

Reo: Reo...Kuto Reo.

Kota: Reo. If you don’t have anywhere else to go, you can stay here for a while.

Reo: You’d let a man you don’t even know stay in your house?

Kota: Eh, well...my room’s nice and clean...and this is delicious. If you stay, it’ll be a big help for me too.

Reo: You’re really trusting, aren’t you. Well, I’ll be in your care, then.

Kota: Aren’t you going to eat?

Reo: I eat at irregular times. Don’t mind me, just eat.

[winter telepathy time part 1] Azuma: (Just as I’d expect from you. You’re really giving off this feeling of helplessness that’s nothing like how you are normally.)

Tasuku: (The version of me that always seems strong might be the one that’s acting, though.)

Azuma: (You can say something like that without hesitation...you’re an adult, so you are strong.)

Tasuku: (Because we’ve got these members...let’s take this to the very end, in a delicate way fitting for Winter.)

Azuma: (Yes, let’s.)

Kota: I’m off.

Reo: Take care.

Kota: So you’re just going to send me out. Yesterday...you asked me for help...

Reo: I’m sorry...

Izumi: Oh, do you live here? I just moved in, I’m Izumi.

Kota: I’m Seo. Nice to meet you.

Izumi: You’re on your way to work, right? Sorry for stopping you.

Kota: No, it’s alright. If you ever have any problems, please let me know.

Nonomiya: Hey, I heard. You picked someone up off the street? That’s way too suspicious. This isn’t an afternoon drama or a manga for middle-aged ladies.

Kota: Give me a break. Reo’s a good guy. And he can cook.

Nonomiya: (sigh.) If you say stuff like that it’s only gonna hurt you.

[winter telepathy time part 2] Homare: (Well, well, how is it? My acting as an office worker.)

Tasuku: (Honestly, I’m surprised. You can even do a role like this smoothly now, huh.)

Homare: (An outstanding artist can excel in anything they do.)

Tasuku: (How reliable.)

Homare: (Now, continue as you like. The rest of us shall support you.)

(kota goes home. he and reo spend time talking together until he seems to get tired, when reo helps him over to the bed.)

Reo Saying that I’m sorry Might not be fair I’m eating away at your life And yet I wonder why Even though I want your blood, I don’t want it

(and then reo dramatically leans over kota and just, Bite)

Kota: Sorry about last night.

Reo: ...what for?

Kota: I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. I must be noisy in my sleep.

Reo: No, you’ve been sleeping quietly.

Kota: That’s good, then.

Reo: Rather than worry about someone else, you should look after yourself...

Kota: Huh?

Reo: Nothing. Are you feeling well? Can you go to work?

Kota: Yeah. I had some of your cooking, so I’m fine. I’m off.

Izumi: Good morning.

Kota: Good morning.

Izumi: Ah, Seo-san. Are you off on weekdays as well? I’ve been hearing noises from next door in the middle of the day, so...

Kota: Oh, no. I just have a friend over.

Izumi: Is that so...a friend. (i love this part bc when he says ““ah. a friend.”” he goes from being nice gentle neighbour to “were it not for the fact that you were a human i would have murdered you where you stand” in like zero seconds, thanks mackey)

[winter telepathy time part 3] Tasuku: (How is everyone, Tsumugi?)

Tsumugi: (To put it simply, I’ve got respect for them. No matter how minute an action is, they can return it, and everyone’s acting is so varied, it’s interesting.)

Tasuku: (Jeez, you’re the one who does that the most and you’re going to say it?)

Tsumugi: (We...started acting so that one day we’d meet Winter, didn’t we.)

Tasuku: (...we did.)

Nonomiya: Oi, Seo. You look terrible.

Kota: I just didn’t get any sleep, I guess.

Nonomiya: It’s not just today. You’ve been like this the whole week. That’s when you met that freeloader, right? Something’s just off about him.

Kota: I told you, it’s not Reo’s fault.

Nonomiya: No, he’s too suspicious. I’m coming with you.

Franz: Well, you’ve found a nice place to lay your head, haven’t you? Care to share it with me?

Reo: It’s not like that. Don’t interfere.

Franz: Ah, how cold! Isn’t that a part of our relationship?

Reo: If that’s all you wanted from me, then leave, Franz.

Franz I don’t know what it is you’ve become so infatuated with But we cannot—

Reo I know, the sun’s light is too strong ...and yet, I’ll end up longing for it anyway

Franz Hatred of the dark—

Reo I can’t help but wish—

Franz —is humanity’s weakness

Reo —that we’d be able to live alongside each other

Kota: Eh? Reo...who’s that?

Nonomiya: Wait, that’s who you picked up? I knew it, he’s definitely suspicious!

Kota: I told you, he isn’t like that. Hey, Reo!

(i just wanna point out here it’s so funny he goes from :( at nono to the gentlest voice calling out to reo, and nonomiya just loOKS SO PISSED LIKE . HUH? WHAT ARE YOU BEING SOFT AT HIM FOR. HEY.)

Reo: Kota...

Franz: Is that him? Well, he does have a good physique... (franz licks his fangs i hate it so much u all need to know this)

Reo: Franz, let’s go somewhere else.

Nonomiya: They ran off! Those guys are probably part of some criminal organisation or something, right?!

Kota: That’s enough, Nonomiya! But...why did he ignore me...?

Kota Letting you stay in my home Might be unfair

Kota, Reo I’m getting used to having you around You’re a man I just met, only by coincidence But I always want to be with you

Franz: You haven’t been drinking blood much, have you?

Reo: Since I’m staying in his home, I can’t bring myself to drink from him properly.

Franz: Is that not the entire point of this human? Just hurry up and drink already, you’ll die.

Reo: That’s what I wanted to do at first.

Kota: Why did you just run away without saying anything...Reo...

Franz: Our pursuers are closing in on this neighbourhood. That’s what I came here to tell you.

Reo: Thank you.

Franz: Have you no intention of leaving that house? Surely, at this point—

Reo: It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

(kota is asleep on the floor by the couch by the time reo gets back home and thEY ARE LITERALLY SITTING LIKE THE DAMN POSTER HOLDING HANDS AS REO SINGS THE NEXT PART)

Reo Even if it isn’t fair for me to apologise I need to tell you I’m glad I met you So I’ll leave it til the end I want your blood I want it more than anyone else

Reo: You’ve been such a great help. I didn’t mean to stay for so long, but I got too comfortable.

Kota: There’s no need for you to leave so soon, since it’s easier on me too, anyway.

Reo: That’s not why I’m leaving.

Kota: Have you found a place to stay?

Reo: Kind of. Kota...thank you.

Kota: Oh, Izumi-san. Good morning.

Reo: You...!

Izumi: So you’re moving out? Well, here’s a going-away present.

Reo: Kota, get back! (izumi runs him right through with a sword. a whole sword.)

Kota: Izumi-san?

Izumi: What a shame. It’s only been a little while, but we were neighbours too! (he twists the sword while it’s still in reo, he’s a terrible man and i love him)

Kota: What are you doing?!

(some very excellent sword swinging and mad cackling from izumisan while reo is suffering and falls to the ground. thank you mackey.)

Izumi: Filthy creature of the night. Thou shalt be eradicated in the name of my blood pact!

(kota runs in front of reo.)

Izumi: Out of the way. I’ll kill you as well.

Reo: Stop! Kota has nothing to do with this!

Izumi: Ha! The two of you are friendly, aren’t you. Even though humans are nothing more than meals to your kind.

Kota: Meals...? What are you talking about?

Izumi: He’s a vampire. Humans’ enemy.

Kota: Vampire? Reo would never...! (he backs away from reo for a bit)

Reo: Kota...

Izumi: Now, hand him over.

(kota goes back to reo and protectively puts his arms around him.)

Izumi: Ah, so you’ve debased yourself to the level of an underling of blood. No matter. I’ll send you both off.

(franz jumps from the steps, fending off izumi’s sword with his two entire knives i love stage ver. he even twirls a knife as he talks.)

Franz: Oh, my. I thought I’d join in myself, but it looks like I’ve drawn the short end of the stick. Well, it can’t be helped. I’ll give you a hand.

Izumi: Accursed vampire...

(EXTREMELY GOOD SWORD + KNIFE FIGHT IT’S GOOD THAT’S ALL I CAN TELL YOU THEY’RE EXCELLENT I LOVE THEM)

[winter telepathy time part 4] Tsumugi: (This is amazing, Hisoka-kun. Your movements are far more polished than they were during rehearsals.)

Hisoka: (I don’t even need to think, my body’s just moving on its own. I don’t know why, though.)

Tsumugi: (Maybe it has something to do with your past.)

Hisoka: (I want to face them too...like Azuma...my memories...)

(THIS ENTIRE TIME THEY ARE STILL AGGRESSIVELY KNIFE FIGHTING EVEN WHILE THEY’RE HAVING THIS INTERNAL CONVERSATION I LOSE MY SHIT EVERY TIME)

(franz disarms izumi and kicks him in the face.)

Franz: Want to keep going?

Izumi: Humanity will not yield to your kind. The white blade shall invariably pass judgement upon you! (he runs away like a little bitch but at least he got a real fight this time)

Kota: Reo! Reo!!

Franz: Can you leave him to me?

Kota: But...

Franz: Worry not. He and I are the same.

Kota: ...Fine. Please take care of him.

Franz: There’s a good boy.

Kota There’s no need for you to apologise I’ll give you my blood So please, please Live I don’t want to lose you

(IN AT LEAST ONE OF THE LIVE VERSIONS HE SOUNDS LIKE HE’S STARTING TO CRY AS HE’S SINGING THE LAST LINE. WHAT EVEN IS STAGE NOCT)

Reo: Where’s Kota...?

Franz: He’s fine. You don’t expect me to ask him to share some of his blood, do you?

Reo: ...thank you, Franz.

Franz: Since you’ve been found out, you can’t stay here any longer. The next one will be coming along soon.

Reo: What have we done wrong? We only live a little longer than regular humans.

Franz: Anything unorthodox must be eliminated. That’s how humanity is.

Kota: Reo!

Reo: This is goodbye, Kota. I’m glad I met you.

Kota: I understand what’s going on now. There’s no need for you to leave!

Reo: Humans like you make even this mundane life worth living.

Kota: Are you just going to live alone like this again?

Reo: This is the fate of my kind.

Kota: ...then, take me with you. (this idiot is really out here on the ground opening his fucking collar i’m sorry i can’t take it here i’m lsoing my shit)

Reo: What...?

Kota: I’m saying I’ll keep you company. I’ll do anything, I’ll even become a vampire!

[winter telepathy time part 5] Azuma: (This distance that we haven’t...that we couldn’t break through until now...after bravely taking a step forward, I feel like we’ve become more connected to each other than ever before.)

Reo: ...Thank you, Kota. Just hearing you say that, I...

aaaand it goes into shoutai here. as always from the wiki

Reo, Kota The truth is I want to bite sweetly into the nape of your neck, and play with the red blood that flows forth Though my instincts may howl for release, I have kept them held back deep inside me If I hated you any more than I do, I would have long taken everything from you To the point that my throat runs dry, my heart has thirsted for it Listening to the tender echo of your sleeping breaths I have begun to learn what it means to fear loneliness

Reo Laughing at myself for letting a human grow on me I walk out into the depths of darkness all alone

(here i genuinely think that reo doesn’t actually bite kota again like he does in the original? like, he just kinda knocks him out and leaves his coat over him like a blanket. which makes me ??!?!!?? like...it feels like it’s really driving home the whole idea that reo doesn’t want to hurt him any more than he already has and i’m bbbhgbhhhb ok)

Reo: Good night, and sweet dreams...

Nonomiya: Hey. Hey! Are you alive? Seo-chan?! (SEO-CHAN????????????)

Kota: ...h.

Nonomiya: What, you just overslept? You had me worried since you didn’t show up to work.

Kota: (running around the room) Where’s Reo?

Nonomiya: Reo? (picks up the jacket on the floor) What’s this?

Kota: (clutching the jacket in tears) He...left me behind... (HE STARTS SOBBING ON THE FLOOR)

Nonomiya: Are you okay...? Hey...

(while kota is sobbing on the floor you can see reo at the top part of the stage staring forlornly at the whole thing. i hate it here so much)

Kota: That idiot...

(it’s in the actual show, i don’t know why it’s not included in the soundtrack? ig bc it’s like...an adlib in-universe but so is sagishima’s thing about being fond of shiki and that’s on the soundtrack. idk man. thanks for reading the vampire gays.)

#mankai stage #winter 2020 #winter troupe #yukishiro azuma #takato tasuku #mikage hisoka #arisugawa homare #tsukioka tsumugi #ueda kandai #kitazono ryo #ueda keisuke #tanaka ryousei #aramaki yoshihiko #november translations #normally the plays end with the play songs so i can just end it at the lyrics without saying anything #but noct doesn't so i just...oops #a3

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withabackpackandcamera · 3 years ago

Photo

June 30th, 2021

Day 5: A Day in Myvatn… And A Night in Myvatn…

Having a home base in Akureyri the last few days was amazing. It’s always so nice to be able to stay somewhere for more than just a night. You get to spread out, get comfortable, drive less, and not have to keep moving your stuff. So this morning, it was slightly disappointing to have to pack all of our stuff again and pack the car for the long road trip ahead to Seyðisfjörður, where we’d only be staying for a single night before packing up and leaving again. But before leaving Akureyri, the family and I walked downtown to purchase some pastries and baked goods for the road from Kristjan’s Bakari. We briefly walked through downtown and took some photos before we turned back toward the house to grab the car and start our very full travel day.

The first stop on our itinerary for the day was the Myvatn geothermal area, a place I had visited very briefly the last time I drove around the entire Ring Road. We stopped by the pseudocraters at Skútustaðagígar and briefly hiked in to see the windy views from there before driving on and making quick pit stops at the Myvatn Panoramic Viewpoint and Dimmuborgir. At Dimmuborgir, we actually left the car for a short stroll down a paved walkway through the lava rock formations before circling back out to the parking lot to continue our drive.

Next, we accidentally drove out to Hverfjall, an old cone volcano, because the GPS led us there thinking the area was the stop for Grjótagjá, a hot spring cave that is famous for some love/sex scene in Game of Thrones (which I have never seen). But after finding the right location for Grjótagjá, we turned out of the Hverfjall area (without hiking or doing anything memorable) and drove over to the original destination of the hot spring cave. The Grjótagjá cave was a pretty neat area to see. The cave was dark but had lots of little cracks for lights to seep through. The scene created by the incoming streams of light in conjunction with the blue-appearing spring water in the cave was pretty cool. Minh and I spent some time here trying to take photos of the cave but gave up before long as all the photos started to look the same.

As we approached the mountain pass out of the Myvatn area, I took my family over to the Myvatn Nature Baths to give them a brief window tour of the bathing area that I enjoyed with some friends back in 2017. Because we were short on time and no one was particularly excited about paying to jump into a hot spring, we decided to skip soaking in a hot bath this trip and reconsider it again if we had time later on during the trip. But it was a good thing we didn’t bathe today because the wind was crazy and that would’ve made for a subpar bathing experience.

After we left the Myvatn Nature Baths, we made one last geothermal stop at the Námaskarð Geothermal Area, an rotten-egg-smelling area well known for its geothermal activity expressed in the forms of colorful landscapes, bubbling mud, and natural vents of sulfuric gases. Because it was so ridiculously windy and sandy in this area, we didn’t stay for very long. At first, the family wanted to skip the area and move on with our trip given the wind conditions. However, because of the uniqueness of the site, I made a very real effort to get Cynthia and my dad out of the car to quickly view the area. And I was successful in doing so. With the wind howling and throwing sand and dust everywhere, we quickly ran through the area as we shielded ourselves from the violent wind and the sand it was pelting at us. But it was worth it as my dad and Cynthia got a chance to see some very unique sights. It wasn’t long before we ran back into the car to get away from the elements and braced ourselves for the start of the long leg of the day’s travels: the 3.5 hour drive to Seyðisfjörður.

With a big dust storm slowly blowing across the landscape in front of us, we drove for about 10-15 kilometers from Námaskarð before the unthinkable happened. Our car started to go haywire before breaking down completely… in the middle of the road… in the middle of nowhere.

So, let me paint the picture of the situation for you. About 30-60 minutes prior, while driving, I noticed that some random warning lights (namely an A symbol with a circle arrow around it) on my dashboard had started blinking and I couldn’t figure out why that was the case. So after some quick troubleshooting (and not figuring it out), I didn’t think anything of it and continued to drive. Then, after we left the Námaskarð area, I noticed that the engine light had turned on, which is a very, very strange occurrence for a brand new car with just over 2000 kilometers on the odometer. And that was slightly concerning. But after consulting my handy-man dad, we carefully continued our drive.

Until I started hearing not-normal sounds coming from under the hood of my car. Something that sounded like it was not spinning the way it should under the hood of the car. Like, in the engine or something. At this point, I got very concerned. And things only got worse when, in conjunction with the weird spinning sound, I saw more dashboard warning lights start to light up and blink. Not good. That then quickly spiraled into an actively malfunctioning car. First to completely go nonfunctional was the gas pedal. Oh no, not good. Because the gas pedal died while we were cruising at a speed around 70kph, the car just slowly and surely lost its speed as it kept rolling along on the highway. 70…60...50...40...30...20...10… Zero.

At one point, as the car was slowing down due to the road’s friction and its nonoperational gas pedal, I looked out to find a safe gravel turnoff to steer the car into. The first turnoff I noticed was slightly dangerous and not ideal given that it was sloped down from the road into the lower area beside the highway. Wouldn’t want to get a dead car stuck facing downhill. So I pushed our luck and kept waiting, since we still had some momentum left. But eventually, the car died JUST before we reached a safe, spacious gravel turnoff/lot that was a much better option for parking a dead car. Because we didn’t make it there with just our momentum, my dad and brother had to quickly jump out of the car and push the car 20-30 meters while I steered it off the road. Once we were situated in the gravel lot, the car, for the most part, died on us. The engine no longer worked and the steering wheel no longer turned.

But the family and I stayed very calm under these distressing circumstances. Everyone kind of knew what needed to be done. We briefly checked under the hood of the car to see if there was anything we could diagnose. Nope. Then Cynthia quickly called Blue Car Rental with our (luckily strong enough) 3G cell signal to notify them of the situation and get directions on the next steps we should take. All the while, the dust storm in front of us was blowing by and, fortunately, not toward us.

Once the rental company was contacted and our screenshotted location was emailed over to them, all we could do in the car was sit there and wait for a mechanic and tow truck to make their way out to us in the middle of nowhere next to a dust storm. And given combination of the protocol of needing a mechanic to first diagnose the car problem, the lack of a Blue Car Rental office anywhere outside of Reykjavik/Keflavik, and the fact that another car could not quickly be made available to replace our car, we weren’t sure how long it would take to get things resolved so that we could hit the road again. So we sat there. We waited in the car. We briefly spoke with one random passerby who had stopped by to make sure that we were OK. We took some hilarious modeling photos with the car. And we watched the sandstorm blow by.

Then, Martjin the Polish Mechanic came to our rescue! And it was unexpectedly fast! Within about 30 minutes of our initial contact with Blue Car Rental, they were able to get in touch with Martjin, who works/owns a car shop (Six60?) on the edge of Myvatn near the Myvatn Nature Baths and was contracted by the car rental agency to help out in these situations, and send him over with his excessively huge (and fittingly American) Ford truck with a tow bed behind it. It was while I was photographing Minh modeling next to the dead car that we saw the big truck and big, burly mechanic approach.

Once he was out of his car, we introduced ourselves and I explained the situation to him. And the first thing he (basically) told me as he was assessing our red 2021 Kia Sportage was….”This is the fourth car of the same make and model from Blue Car Rental this week alone that I have had to tow for similar reasons.” It was the fourth car that he had towed because the car (a brand new Kia Sportage in all instances) had died all of a sudden despite a full fuel tank, good oil, and with everything else checking out OK on initial investigation.

It was only while he was preparing to tow our car that he received a call from Blue Car with the answer to the car problem he had been stumped by for the last week. The crankshaft sensor in the car was not working in these models and that it was a manufacturing issue, an issue he himself could not figure out, solve, or fix with his mechanic skills alone. With that new information, he pulled our car onto his tow bed and loaded us into his car to take everyone and everything back to his shop.

Along the 30 minute drive back to Myvatn, he presented us with several options (some doable, some not so doable) for how to proceed with our situation. Normally, Martjin has two spare Blue Car rentals at his shop for these exact situations. But unfortunately, given that this was the 4th issue this week with Blue Car Rental, there were no spares left to offer. So that wasn’t an option. The other options were to try to get a car rental here as soon as possible (and it wasn’t going to be that soon since Blue Car had to find a replacement car, load it up, find a driver to tow it out to Myvatn, which was 6-7 hours away) to continue the trip later this evening (but actually, in the wee hours of the morning) knowing we had an AirBnB already booked in Seyðisfjörður OR to stick around the Myvatn area for the night and restart our trip in the morning with a new rental that would be towed ALL THE WAY from Reykjavik and arrive by morning. After he made some quick calls to assess all other options and my family and I had discussed the options, we ended up making the safest decision, which was to stay the night in a hotel in Myvatn, take it easy, and make up lost ground once we had our car delivered tomorrow morning.

Once that decision was made, Martjin made a ton of calls to all of his contacts and quickly made a three-room booking with the relatively fancy and expensive Sel-Hotel Myvatn for the night. We made a pit stop to pick up his “little blond devil” of a son from the nearby kindergarten and then stopped by his shop to wait for him to finish up some things before he dropped us off at the hotel. While waiting at the shop, we met a nice couple, Will and Mary, from Miami who had also run into some car issues and were also on their road trip around Iceland but driving in the opposite direction of us. We had a nice conversation with them and even shared our trip experiences and trip tips as we passed the time.

Before long, Will and Mary were ready to hit the road again after their flat tire was replaced, and we were ready to head to our hotel with Martjin. A short ride later, we were dropped off at Sel Hotel Myvatn, where we spoke with and checked into our hotel with the very nice and welcoming front desk lady named Kate. After we were given the keys to our three rooms, we moved upstairs to our rooms to get situated and get Cynthia ready for her work day. We hung out for a bit in the hotel rooms before heading down for a relatively early dinner in the nice hotel restaurant downstairs.

At the hotel restaurant, we treated ourselves to a nice and relatively expensive dinner (assuming that we’d get reimbursed for it by the rental car agency as part of the hotel stay). We ordered their Northern Diver Pizza with bacon, ham, and pepperoni, tiger shrimp scampi style scallops starter, lasagna, trout dinner, and pulled pork sandwich. It was so yummy! Though I wish we had gone haywire and ordered even more yummy food to fill up on! I guess we did the responsible thing… for the car rental agency, hahaha.

With stomachs filled with delicious food, we went to chill upstairs while waiting for our hotel sauna shed/room to be prepared. It took about 30 minutes for the hotel staff to ready the sauna room but once it was ready, the family minus Cynthia sat in a steamy, hot, humid, and very uncomfortable indoor sauna for about 30 minutes or so. My dad and I were the first to exit since we couldn’t deal with the heat and steam anymore. I guess it was slightly cleansing… Once everyone was done with the sauna, Minh and I headed to the hotel lobby to play a couple games of pool before my dad and I did the same. And funnily enough, in-between games with my dad, a little Iceland kid on his way to the Westfjords with his family wanted to jump in and get a game with me. So we played a couple of turns before he had to leave with his mom. Funny kid. By this point in the evening, the family was getting tired. So everyone except me and Cynthia headed upstairs to turn in for the night and get some much needed rest.

As for me, I hung out downstairs with Cynthia while she worked before going out and exploring the area right across from the hotel that we had briefly stopped at earlier called Skútustaðagígar, where all the pseudocraters were located. I left the hotel around 10pm and hiked along the different paths leading around the pseudocraters before I came across a nice wildflowery slope with the sun setting in the background. With very few, slow-paced moments to do landscape photography on this trip, I wanted to make the most of this particular scene. So I ran back to the hotel to grab all of my photography gear and headed right back out to the flowery slope where I spent an hour watching the sunset while attempting to capture a photograph worth writing home about.

After freezing outside in the Myvatn wind for an hour or so, I headed back into the hotel to clean and wash up before going to bed. Cynthia wasn’t yet done with work by that time so I went to bed first because I knew that recharging for tomorrow would be a smart thing to do given the ground we had to cover due to the unfortunate circumstances we ran into today.

Looking back at today’s debacle, our impromptu back-up plan wasn’t too bad! But here’s to a more reliable car and a more productive day tomorrow!

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. The Myvatn area is named after the large lake in the area and there is no associated town called Myvatn town.

2. Lake Myvatn is a bird-watching haven for tons of tourists. If you see heavily-armed photographers with huge lenses and camouflage, they’re probably there to take photos of birds.

3. Much of the Myvatn area is formed from the interaction of lava and water. For example, the lava rock formations at Dimmuborgir formed when lava spilled over water-filled depressions or marshlands forming a lava lake. Due to the overlying magma and lava lake, the sub-surface water layer heated up and created steam that escaped to the outside through vents that eventually became surrounded by solidifying magma. Over time, the results of this process were lava pillars, columns, and ridges like the ones at Dimmuborgir, which are the remnants of the steam vents of old. Similarly, you have the pseudocraters of Myvatn which were formed from a similar process. When molten lava flowed over water or wetlands, water became trapped underneath the lava field and started boiling. The pressure caused explosions where the steam escaped to the surface. Over time, the repeated explosions ripped apart the lava, which piled up around the steam vent, forming a pseudocrater (per the infographic sign at the site).

4. Brand new car rentals are not fool- and fail-proof. Always be on the lookout if your engine light turns on randomly and unexpectedly. It’s never a good sign for a new car. And when things like that happen and the car company needs to send a mechanic out to inspect it and tow it, it’s really expensive for the car rental agency. Per Martjin, it costs about 1000 Euros to send him to check out and try to diagnose the car issue at hand. So that’s for the service. On top of that, it costs approximately 3000 Euros to tow a rental car from Myvatn back to Reykjavik. VERY VERY EXPENSIVE. Luckily, if it’s a manufacturing issue, it’s not on us, the customer, to pay any of that. Thank goodness!

5. Lake Myvatn is considered the land of midges. They are everywhere. And they are a nuisance. Luckily, when it’s super windy outside, they pose no problems at all because the wind sweeps them away. Per the hotel, if the midges fly into your rooms due to open windows, just leave your windows open as they will attempt to fly out right away, thus causing little issues. An issue only occurs when you close your windows and they’re trapped inside.

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stixxxy · 4 years ago

Text

Siege-o-ween Day 14

Heyoo!!! I’m so happy to take part in this event @dualrainbow hosted. apologies if there’s any errors I’m no way as skilled as the other people who took part! so the only warning is there’s some kinda graphic scenes at the end (not adult, kinda like somewhat gore).

Prompt: “If you say let’s split up, I swear to God.”

—————————

The weatherbeaten roof seemingly curved in, threatening to give in at any moment; even from a kilometre away, you could hear the creaks of the infrastructure as the wind battered its side. The house was almost hidden by the contorted pine trees which surrounded it as though they were a shield, protecting the old building from the eyes of passerby’s and the clouds above casting a shadow onto the area. The mist creeped through the bends of the trees and hovered above the ground before disappearing a meter in front of where they stood.

Jordan “Thermite” Trace was leaning against the rover which had been parked outside the rickety house, lighting a cigarette as he waited for the others to grab the equipment. He let out a sigh, the smoke escaping from his lips and fading into the mist. The mission wasn’t too extreme, just a quick in and out job from where a suspected white mask group ran in to.. nothing to drastic. But yet Jordan stood still as the cold nipped his tanned nose, looking onward at the eerily old house which seemed as though one small step could cause the place to crumble... that’s why there was only 4 of them. He tapped his cigarette, the ash crumbling onto the soggy mud beside his boots.

“You ready to go?” The approaching brit asked, his gear in hand.

The American nodded his head, letting the cigarette plummet to the ground.

The 4 sent where consisted on him, Jordan Trace, the Brit- Mark Chandar, Eliza Cohen & their newest (but certainly not youngest) recruit Sam Fisher, or he preferred “Zero”. The mission was, what Jordan believed, to just be a simple intel gathering mission to get Fisher accustomed to being in team Rainbow. Even if it was, Jordan knew there wouldn’t be a ‘jokey’ atmosphere, Zero was more of an edgy ‘i do everything myself’ kinda guy, Mark was brash also honest to a point, Eliza was Eliza- intense, and then there was Jordan, an extrovert who likes to joke around. Of course the 3 weren’t too bad, they just lacked the energy that Jordan thrived on. And the house in front was no help.

“You reckon it’s haunted?” Jordan joked, throwing a sideways smile to Mark who just shrugged in response... life of the party.

“I don’t believe in stuff like that, it doesn’t make sense scientifically. Even if you ignore the science it still doesn’t make sense,” the young man let out a sigh,” like what does it accomplish becoming a ghost? What causes you to become a ghost?”

Another topic added on what to bring up when speaking to Mute. Ghosts. That list was ever growing by the day. Thankfully Eliza and Fisher were just coming around the corner, allowing another Mute rant to fade as the man retreated back into his quieter self. It was an interesting quirk that Mark had, Jordan thought, Mark managed to hold conversations for what would seem like hours with a one on one with someone he knew, but the second another joined- there was silence.

“Jäger called,” Eliza announced, tossing a radio to Jordan, “he said he’ll pick us up at 15:00, giving us an hour and a half to find whatever information is here. I and Mute will take the back, covering the second floor and attic. Zero, I want you and Jordan to take the first and basement,” Jordan shot a glance at the elder who had his gaze focused on Ash, “we’ll meet back here at 14:50.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, it wasn’t long until Ash and Mute left to trek into unknown territory, leaving Jordan with the new recruit.

“Loosen up, you’ll pull a muscle,” those were the first words Fisher spoke to Jordan, this was definitely going to be fun.

The short walk to the creepy house was filled with silence, the only sound being the gravel shifting underneath their boots and the creaking of the trees fighting against the wind. There was nothing suspicious of the area, apart from the groaning of the ancient building and how something so seemingly dead uttered noises of so much life. Despite what Mark had said earlier, the place definitely had a ‘haunted’ vibe, but fortunately ‘ghost hunting’ wasn’t part of their job- it was to find the real monsters.

Oh to be at the base rewatching Mamma Mia for the fifth time instead, but he still pitied the rest who had to stay behind to watch musicals all day- yet Jordan would prefer listening to Senaviev’s attempt at singing than enter the chilling structure which lay before him.

“So did ‘Liza specify what we’re looking for?” Jordan’s question broke the silence as they entered the building careful, as if it would crumble to a single wrong step.

Zero steadily peered around the corner as they were about to step into the hallway, “Just something that would give us any more information on the White Masks, whether it be location or weapon sources.”

The hard breacher nodded, gripping his gun a bit tighter as a small groan tore through the air. It was stupid to be scared, the supernatural was that, supernatural. Not real. But yet even with a gun, every small noise caused fear- if there was a person or a rabid animal, he had a gun, so statistically he should be safe.

Jordan followed fisher through the first floor, keeping an eye out for any potential hiding spots or where they could get jumped- it was doubtful that there’d be any White Masks anyways, the electricity wasn’t on and the place seemed as if it had been left abandoned to rot away for years. There was occasionally some muttering, but Jordan just reduced that to Eliza and Mark on the floor above them- nothing out of the ordinary. From the last question Jordan asked, there had been no words spoken between the two operators for nearly 10 minutes- 10 long minutes of searching what seemed to be a barren building. This whole thing was making Jordan miss talking to their newest hard breacher, Ace would’ve annoyed the shit out of him- but a conversation would be great to calm his nerves.

The duo entered the basement, drips from leaky pipes echoed through the tunnels. The tunnel was long, seemingly endless with curves separating from it into their own empty labyrinths. If there was someone in that building, it would have to be here. Zero took lead, walking down the hallway with only the flashlight on their guns to show the way- at this point Thermite had removed his goggles which allowed him a bit more sight. It was too quiet also, the water dripping had seemed to stop and the only noise was their breaths and footing on the basement floor.

Jordan finally tried to engage in a conversation,”quiet ain’t it, must be more familiar to you?”

A simple ‘hm’ was all Zero responded with, his old eyes scanning what little they could see. Jordan ran a hand through his greying hair, not to bad- mid 30s and he had already got grey hairs... Usually the job was more active, running and gunning white masks, the underwhelming mission only added a tad of frustration to the Texan. Jordan couldn’t wait to get away from this creep show ‘base’ and to get back to civilisation where he wasn’t a mix of boredom and paranoid.

A soft growl hummed to the right of Jordan, causing him to turn- gun hoisted up ready to shoot-

“It’s probably just an animal Trace,” Fisher rest a hand on Jordan’s gun- lowering it, “you alright son?”

Jordan shrugged, bitting his lip as he rubbed the side of his head, “yeah, I.. I’m fine, just not a fan of the quiet. Grown accustomed to being more on the front lines I guess.”

Fisher’s glare softened, “alright if you say so.” The older returned to himself, leaving Jordan to catch a breath, “this place is creepy though.”

The texan could only respond with a soft laugh, “yeah.”

They continued their search of the basement, making sure every stone was turned practically. This time with a little more conversation from Zero so the silence wouldn’t turn him insane- Jordan suspected the quiet was even getting to the other man too. Jordan stood still in his tracks, he noted a door which was slightly ajar unlike the others which had been shut but not locked. Fisher turned his head to face the door in question, its hinges rusted from the pipe leaking unknown substances onto it for probably years. The liquid was most likely water, but with sewage mixed in.

Jordan took front, pushing the door slightly open which the door creaked in compliance- their flashlights seeping light into the room and onto what sat pushed to the side.

Bingo.

“Should we radio in saying we found it?” Jordan asked, watching Fisher jog towards the desk and attempt to boot up the computer which was oddly modern compared to the murky surroundings.

Jordan stood at the doorway, keeping the door open with the steal-toe cap on his boot. The room had power, and seemingly was the only room to do so as the bulb on the ceiling flickered but remained on. The White Masks must have left in a hurry and dumped all the gear they couldn’t bring in that room. Blood soaked clothing, pistols and others had been shoved to the side and out of the dim bulb light path.

Fisher let out a groan, his face tensing,” I can’t get in, we’re going to need that kid.”

“Wait wait wait, let me have at it first,” Jordan suggested, leaving the door to slam shut as he headed towards the computer.

Guessing a terrorist groups’ password was not exactly in the job description, but there was no harm in trying. Jordan budged past Zero, leaning on the desk as he looked at the screen *enter password* was flashing in white upon the light blue backing- here went nothing.. Jordan’s burnt hands scattered across the keyboard as he typed in his guess.

•welcome user_77_657_39•

The screen lit up with documents filling the home screen, clustering it up like a virus. They had access to whatever the hell the White Masks were hiding- finally, team rainbow was on the same step and with this information could climb further up, letting them have an advantage over the terrorists finally. All Jordan had to do was enter the chemical name for the white masks infamous gas and add a largely known number linked with terrorism and he was in. Bringing the chemistry know it all did accomplish something for the mission. Jordan took a step back, allowing Zero to scan the documents for any information that was to be read asap. He swore a look of horror shifted onto Fishers previously numb face.

“We still need Ash and Mute, they need to download this information so we can take the files with us back asap,” Zero grabbed his radio, “Ash this is Zero, we’ve found a computer with a tone of files. You need to get down ASAP. Over.”

Silence.

“Copy that Zero, We’re heading down now. Over.”

Zero put his face in his hands for a minute before muttering something about chemical testing.. but Jordan didn’t catch it all.

Zero huffed, pushing himself away from the desk to stand upright. “They’re going to need help navigating that corridor-“

“-If you say let’s split up, I swear to god.”

“Relax, there’s nothing here- all you have to do is walk back to the entrance and lead the two here,” Fisher told, crossing his arms as he stood back.

Jordan let out a sigh, nodding his head. Of course he had no reason to be scared, they’d checked the corridor before hand, he was just going to return back and lead Eliza and Mark to the room, then they could leave this cursed building forever. Letting out a small ‘yes sir’, the Texan exited the room and was plunged into the damp tunnel

The tunnel now felt a lot colder than before, the wind which had been battering the above building clearly managed to shove open a door and make itsway down into the depths below the first floor. Sewage was piling up at where the wall met the floor, making a sickly smell which filled the endless corridor. Jordan started to make his way to the entrance, his gun ready incase something popped out of nowhere. This wasn’t to do with Jordan being scared of the dark- he never had been; his sister would often make fun of him when they were kids because he got too scared to walk anywhere in the dark after watching the IT miniseries, but yet that was what lead Jordan to be scared of what used the shadows as a cloak. To be fair, Jordan knew what was somewhat valid.. But a 35 year old man with a gun who toured with the marines scared of what hid in the dark.. That did sound a bit iffy.

Walking back was easier than before, before they had no idea about what his behind each door and what would be ahead, but yet his stomachs felt queasy as if there was something they had missed. But that’s all it was, a feeling right? The ever growing pit which deepened each step he took down the infinite corridor, the smell of sewage growing more putrid to a level it resembled the smell of rotting flesh, the smell wasn’t real right? But as the odour grabbed his throat, it haulted him in his tracks- pulling him towards the source from which it came from. Behind a locked door was where the source of the smell had been trapped away. Kicking locked doors down wasn’t hard, especially if the door was barely secured onto the doorframe. The beaten wood topled to the floor with a bang, splashing some unknown liquid onto Jordan. The flashlight was brought up to glaze across the room, the light flickering as it glanced upon what lay in the center of the room.

“Fuck,” was all Jordan could choke out, the smell making him gag as he opened his mouth, or maybe it was the sight.

Whatever lay in front of him had been altered so many times that it barely even resembled a human, flesh stuck together as if it were play-doh, a face could barely be put together due to the amount of flies playing in the pile of rotting flesh and blood. The more breaths he took, the more faint he felt. There would always be something that’s too much. Jordan stumbled back, an attempt to catch the damp air of the corridor outside. The pile of body parts cried out for him, begging for him to save them from that torture.

“Jordan where are you?” the crackle of his radio barely reached through to him.

Jordan leant against the mouldy wall opposite the room, eyes dull as he looked at the darkness where the thing was. Splitting up was a great idea.. he tried to smile but all he could was stand motionless. Hoping someone would get to him and help him out of this rotting house.

——————

jehdjdh sorry it’s short (still over 1k though) but i struggle with focusing, i hope it’s alright though.

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herohotline · 5 years ago

Note

bing bong! hewwo! would like to request for a prohero!deku meeting with his ex lover who he left to pursue his dream of becoming the #1 hero and finding out that she has a child that was actually his. everything else is up to your creative mind! hope it's not too much, thank you! 💜❣️

A/N: i love these kinds of requests!! im a sucker for kids and pregnancy requests, especially ones with reunions. Thank you for indulging me

Reader has a slight Teleportation quirk as well; it’s noted once or twice in the story.

(You’ll get why this gif was perfect to use when you read the story lmao)

Word Count: 2,300+

No Longer a Coward (Izuku/You)

There’s a lot of aspects to becoming a hero that Izuku hadn’t realized- none of his classes really warned him about how his privacy was practically zero to none, a two hundred pound weight of stress followed him by the ankles every day, and that a love life was practically impossible.

Izuku wasn’t exactly yearning for a partner, but he wouldn’t lie- he missed it. He doesn’t casually date, either, so finding someone was harder than usual even if he wasn’t a hero. Once upon a time, he met you- a wonderful person who made him feel warm and happy and made him laugh. But the timing wasn’t right, the stress was unbearable, and he couldn’t commit- so things ended between the two of you after dating for around a year and a half.

The pro-hero still thought about you even though he hadn’t seen you for over three years. Of course, Izuku was heart-broken by your decision to move away after your break up, but he could understand. It didn’t make it easier, suddenly being torn away from a person he still genuinely cared for, but he understood.

Maybe one day you’ll come back, Izuku thinks. Maybe you’ll come back and both of you can be friends again, maybe even something more. The past few years have taught Izuku a lot, and he thinks that maybe he’s past his self-doubt and immaturity- maybe next time, if you’d want to, he can actually take care of you.

But this is just a lot of maybes and what if’s. What the hero should do is call your number and actually initiate a conversation.

He’s fought a lot of villains, he’s had several close calls with death, but he can’t pick up the phone and call you… Izuku scoffs.

Even after all this time, he’s still a coward, isn’t he?

— *** —

You think about calling Izuku a lot, but you can never manage to do it. Truly, you feel like scum- an awful coward.

You never meant to hide this from him- you didn’t figure out you were pregnant until after your big move, and at that point, you were still heartbroken. Just thinking about seeing Izuku made your eyes well up, so you convinced yourself that once you gave birth you’d find the courage to tell him everything.

Three years have passed.

Your daughter is a healthy ball of energy, her hair just like his in color and obnoxious wavy ends. Her eyes sparkle just like his, too. You won’t lie- the fact that she resembles her father so much stings sometimes. But it doesn’t hurt as much as knowing that you’re forcing her to have a life with only one parent.

She should have a father- she deserves it. She doesn’t deserve your cowardly behavior, so after a lot of thought and an impulsive streak, you pack up to go on a day trip back to Musutafu.

Yui, your daughter, doesn’t know why you’re going to the big city, but she’s very excited. She’s only three, but her passion is strong and she can’t wait to meet all the big pro-heroes!

Just like her dad.

You hold Yui’s hand as you walk through the familiar city, pointing out anything that might interest her (which is basically everything). You plan on staying in Musutafu for a few days, so meeting up with Izuku wasn’t planned just yet. Instead, you want to make some good memories with your daughter before her life changes before her very eyes.

You take her everywhere you can. A fancy ice cream parlor, a hero museum, a huge children’s park. Yui is beaming, smiling ear to ear the entire time.

Everything has gone relatively well, which you’re pleasantly surprised at. At least, it was going well-

Until you run into pro-hero Shoto. Or, as you know him- Todoroki.

Yui is the one that spots him, her whole body practically vibrating as she points at him eagerly. He’s exiting a grocery, two plastic bags in his hands.

“Mommy, mommy it’s Shoto!”

At the sound of his name, you watch in silent horror as Todoroki’s head turns and spots the two of you. He sees the little girl first, his brows furrowing, and then he looks up at you-

You’d call yourself lucky to ever see such an animated expression on his face, but unfortunately for you, it’s kind of bad news.

“You’re right, it’s the hero Shoto! Would you like to say hi?” You enunciate the ‘hero’ part, hoping that your old friend will take the hint. He slowly approaches you both, still looking quite confused, but he switches it off so he can greet your daughter properly.

“Hello, little miss,” Todoroki smiles, reaching a hand out. She happily shakes it.

“I see you on TV!”

“You do? That’s very cool.”

“Yeah! You kick butt.”

He actually laughs, a quiet and soft laugh, and you’re glad that he’s not offended by her blunt behavior. It’s that moment his phone rings and he excuses himself with an apology, looking at the screen.

“Well, since Shoto’s busy, we should probably leave, honey,” God get me out of here.

“You don’t have to go, you know who it is,” he looks up at you with an upright eyebrow, showing you the screen. “It’s pro-hero Deku.”

Your face pales. “Todoroki, don’t-“

“Wow, really?!” Yui shouts, getting several looks from passerby’s. The icy-hot user smiles again as he accepts the call.

“Hey, Deku. Guess who I’m talking to.”

You finally let go of Yui’s hand, lunging forward to grasp Todoroki’s wrist. You look at him desperately, whispering. “Please don’t. I’m here so I can tell him. Don’t make it happen like this, Shoto.”

“…An old friend. I’ll put them on.”

He hands you the phone with a tired look in his eye. “Then make it happen,” he wordlessly mouths to you before heading over to your daughter to give you at least an inkling of privacy.

God, when did Todoroki turn into such a meddlemaker?

“-llo? Hello? Shoto, this is weird,” you finally lift the phone to your ear. Your heart skips several times at the sound of his voice- oh God, this is happening.

“Hi, Izuku,” you bite your lip hard. There’s silence on the other end before you hear a rumbling sound and an ‘oof!’ Did he just fall?

“___?” He asks.

“…Yeah, it’s me. I’m, um… visiting the city and I kind of ran into Todoroki. He just shoved the phone in my hands.”

“Sounds like him,” Izuku sighs and you laugh.

“Not to me! He’s changed a lot.” There’s another silence as you shift your feet anxiously. “Well… okay, listen. I’m actually here in Musutafu because I really need to talk to you about something. Could- do you have time to meet up with me tomorrow?”

“Oh. Uh- well- yeah, of course. What’s… what do you need to talk about?”

Good to know that his voice still goes high pitched when he’s nervous. You smile without thinking about it, watching Shoto pick up Yui and point towards something or other.

“I can’t tell you over the phone. Could we meet at the park, the one next to your old house that you went to as a kid?” You had been meaning to show Yui that area.

“Alright, that’s great! And, um… I’m really glad you’re back, ___.” You hear him sigh on the other end. “I’ll see you then. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Izuku. I’ll see you tomorrow- and I’ll give you back to Shoto now since you called him in the first place.” You barely hear what Izuku says, the phone already away from your face as you walk towards Shoto. You gesture for him to take it with a mildly unimpressed look on your face.

Yeah, his stunt might have worked, but it was still a dick move.

“Okay, I have to go now,” Shoto lets your daughter down and pats her head. “Thank you for telling me about so many animals.”

“You’re welcome!” Yui puffs out her chest, quickly walking back to you and taking your hand. You smile down at her- but freeze up again when you hear Shoto.

“Who was that? Oh…” As if it wasn’t a big deal, he throws you a thumbs up. “A kid wanted to get an autograph.” Nice.

The two of you silently wave, walking in your separate directions. Yui talks animatedly about her time with Shoto while you were on the phone, but you can’t do anything more than nod and smile along.

This is it, you think. I’m going to tell him. He’s going to know. It’s all that’s on your mind as you check in the hotel you reserved a room for and unpack your clothes.

My life is about to drastically change.

—

You let Yui play on the swings and jungle gym as you wait for Izuku to arrive. Your foot anxiously taps on the concrete as you sit on a nearby bench, your fingers scratching at your wrists and teeth tugging your lip. You’re a few steps away from being a complete wreck- it doesn’t help that you couldn’t sleep at all last night.

How does one go about this? Hey, Izuku, it’s been three years since our break up and hey, have you ever wanted kids? Well, surprise!

You deflate in your seat. Yeah, right. As if you could be blunt like that.

At least the park is mildly empty- you’re a little worried about meeting the top hero in a public setting, especially when you’re having him meet his daughter. Uh-oh. Your face pales- what if someone saw? What if news got out?

Suddenly you realize that this may have not been a great idea.

But apparently, you’re stuck with your bad decisions- right as you’re about to call Izuku to change plans, you hear your name from behind you. You immediately stand up, looking back and meeting eyes with the man you haven’t seen face to face in so long.

“Izuku,” you try not to smile- really- but you can’t help it. He’s just as handsome as he is on TV, but actually standing near him you can see all the tiny details that a camera just can’t bring to life.

The happiness in his eyes is something you can’t replace. He smiles back, taking the few steps he needs to meet you and bring you into an embrace.

“___,” Izuku sighs, “I’m so glad to see you.”

You hug him back, your hands gripping his shirt. You half expected him to wear his Hero Suit since it’s all you’ve seen him in recently because of the news- you’re glad he didn’t. In your opinion, Izuku looks much better wearing casual clothes.

“I’m glad to see you too, Izuku,” you break the hug and sit back down on the bench, urging him to sit beside you. More than anything, you’d like to take your time and get to know him again, but you know that your daughter will only be distracted by the park for so long. “Okay, so, I just… need to tell you this right away. Rip off the bandaid, you know?” Your hands return to your lap, anxiously wringing as you look at him. “But I- I want you to know that… I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. I would never hide something from you on purpose.”

“What?” Izuku’s face falls as his eyebrows furrow. “What- what did you hide?” He really didn’t know where this was headed.

You take a big breath. Guilt and anxiety rushes to you in waves but you try to push it back. You need to do this. “Listen, Izuku, I… when I left-“

“Mommy!”

Your daughter’s scream cuts you off and your head snaps toward the sound, eyes wide. You want to curse- you knew your daughter liked to climb things, but the swing set? How did she do that?

It doesn’t matter- she’s falling, that’s what matters. You quickly use your quirk and teleport to the swings, swiftly catching Yui before she fell on the bark chips. “Yui!” You place her down on the ground. “What did I tell you about climbing things? You can’t always rely on me to catch you- you could get hurt!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She’s obviously upset and you’re a sucker- you take her into your arms again and kiss her head.

“Just be careful, honey.” You carefully pick her up, holding her by her bottom as you stand. “I have someone I want you to meet, okay? Will you be a good girl for me?”

Yui looks confused, but she nods and you smile at her in reassurance. You walk back to the bench where Izuku was now standing at- his eyes wide in disbelief as he stared down at your daughter.

His daughter.

“Yui, this is Izuku. He’s, um…” You hesitate- do you tell her the truth? Does he even want to be a part of her life?

Izuku picks up from where you left off. “I’m- I’m your dad.” He looks up at you before quickly looking back to Yui, holding a hand out for her to grab. “Is… that okay?” You hide your face in your daughter’s chest with a silent laugh, tearing up quietly. You feel her tiny body move and watch as her little fingers grab Izuku’s own.

“You’re daddy?” Yui looks back up to you, still holding Izuku’s hand. “Is he?”

“Yes, Yui,” you sniff and readjust her in your arms, trying to wiggle a hand free so you can wipe some of your tears. She leans forward to whisper in your ear and you grin happily as you nod. “Yeah, okay. Izuku, would you…” you step a little closer to him. “Would you want to give her a hug?”

“YEAH,” Izuku bursts, frantically nodding his head and reaching out to wrap his arms around Yui who wiggles from your arms to his. You take a step back as you look at them. It’s so weird, honestly, seeing this perfect picture of Izuku sobbing with your daughter wrapped around him, looking so, so happy- it’s a picture that you only imagined up until now.

And now it’s finally real, and you feel like you can breathe.

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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The Legion of Super Heroes Reviews: The Legion of Substitute Heroes or Unsung Heroes

Happy 29th Birthday to Me! Yes it’s my birthday which means it’s time for reflection, griping about getting older and cake. And after an exausting weekend of grappling with a growth, i’m not going to go into anymore detail, I can finally, relax celebrate and get back to reviewing. And since i’ts my big day, that means I decided to dedicate today’s reviews to things that mean a hell of a lot to me and in one way or another shaped me as a person. A self indulgant way to reflect on my past, look to the future and show y’all some stuff I really like. So with that out of the way let’s talk about the Legion of Super Heroes.. and their oddball sub team I love dearly.

This is also my first chance to talk about DC Comics on my blog. I’m honestly shocked that in the year i’ve been reviewing stuff regularly, the other half of the big two superhero comic publishers hasn’t come up. While I do tend to lean towards marvel, in part because Marvel is simply better at collecting their stuff and putting it on sale more often, it’s still the home of some of my faviorite properties: Justice League International, The Green Lanterns (Minus Hal), Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Oracle, Batgirl (All of them, particularly Steph and Cass), Young Justice, Supergirl, my personal boy The Martian Manhunter.. the list dosen’t go on by much but it indeed goes on. I”ve been reading dc comics since I was in middle school, and I haven’t stopped since and don’t intend to stop now and maybe in the next year I can get around to tackling some of their awesome cartoons and comics more eh? But yeah among these titans, including the actual titans, are the Legion, one of the most unique and awesome super team concepts in my humble opinon and , even for DC, one of the teams with the most tangled up histories.

First created in the Silver Age by writer Otto Binder and Artist Al Plastino, The Legion of Superheroes is DC”s first successful teen superhero team, predating the titans by a few years, though I dearly love both wildly diffrent teams. The Legion is defined by their high concept: A thousand years into the future, three super teens from diffrent worlds who happened to be on the same ship with billionare RJ Brande, saved Brande from some goons hired by his crooked buisness partner.

And exposed him. Inspirired by their courage, heart and skill, Brande latter called the three together to form them into a super team, one inspiried by the legends of teen hero Superboy.

No not Conner though it was nice to get to show off my poster of him. While he was part of the second continuities legion, we’ll get to that, he’s not the superboy we’re looking for. He is damn great though and it’s good to have you back bud.

Not Jon either, though I do miss this kid’s pre-bendis version and he was the inspiration.. for another version of the legion. (SIGH). Try. AGAIN IMAGE SEARCH.

......

No not the cool bad boy turned troubled good boy, not the child who was inexpciably aged up by that bald smeghead, and not the great idea turned into a editiorial mouthpiece. I”m talking about THIS superboy.

This is where the name came from: From the silver age till crisis on infinite earths, Clark Kent was active as a kid in smallville, and thus was Superboy, superman when he was a boy. He dealt with similar stories just with Lana replacing Lois, and Luthor as a ginger teenager. And it was these deeds as a teen hero on his own, one of the first honestly, that inspiried the legion and brande and forged the team.

And it was naturally a super boy story where they were first introduced as the legion’s founders went back to recruit Superboy after putting him through some trials, and were intended as just one of many silver age one off concepts.. but caught on with the readers so much they were brought back, and had their ranks expanded and eventually not only added supergirl, yes the one your thinking of this time, to their ranks, and yes sometimes she and superboy were in the same place at the same time, Clark willingly had founding member and telepath Saturn Girl put a mental block in his head for any info he’s not supposed to know yet so it’s cool . But yeah not only that but they eventually became their own feature in Adventure Comics, where Superboy’s stories were published, but overtook him in popularity with time. Over time a number of distinct aspects were established: The roster eventually got as large as 20 plus legionarres, almost all from diffrent worlds, and they eventually set up bilaws. Some are silly and dated such as “Legionarres marrying means they retire” which was eventually done away with in the 70′s, but others were simple logic: each member must have a unique power, no using weapons and such which rather than be super power snobbery is so said tech dosen’t fail and the legion later fully allowed Karate Kid, a martial artist, to join, no killing.. just common sense stuff that adds to it. And one of those is the centerpiece to today’s story, which we’ll get to in a moment. Obviously given they’ve been around since 1958, there is a LOT more to the Legion’s history I will dig into at a later date: The short version is that Crisis on Infinite Earths, Dc’s first big reboot, fucked the team up badly by retconning superboy out of existance and dc editorial made it worse by shooting down EVERY solution the team came up with to fix the issue. So eventually things got so messy they nuked the whole thing during the event Zero Hour and rebooted fresh with Mark Waid taking the helm and updating the concept for the 90′s and being a more lighthearted, if still not without weight, comic in the sea of 90′s edge. Waid would reboot the team again due to sagging sales, a far weaker reason this time, with a more rebllion slant, the original team would be reinstated, and then ended for a while before recently being rebooted by Brian Micheal Bendis... who sadly is long past his creative prime from books like Ultimate Spider-man and alias and is instead stewing in his own toilet dinner these days and thus it’s not pretty.. well okay art wise i’ts VERY pretty, it’s just story wise it sucks dirty ass in thunder storms. There was also an awesome cartoon that sadly lasted only two seasons that I will DEFINTELY be digging into, especially since unlike x-men evolution, it’s not you know 50 some episodes and me biting off way more than I can chew but a slim 26 that still has fans to this day. I”ll get into ALL OF THIS, some ohter time hopefullly and I mostly outlined it since some of you might be familiar with another version or “Sigh” the reboot and this helps clear things up. So yeah with all that out of the way we’re going back to the silver age and the first story I ever read of hte team, how I met them with “The Legion of Substitute Heroes” and a later subs story I genuinely love. I first read this story in one dc’s old expensive archives collections I got from the library. Oh how I miss the library. Your probably wondering who the legion of susbstite heroes are.. but since the first story covers that we can jump right in after the break!

So we open with a teen in a parka uniform disembarking from a spaceship from another planet, which a passerby notes is just like the airplanes people used to ride from country to country.

But we meet our hero, Polar Boy, whose in a winter themed outfit and has come to try out. This is the tradition I was saving for now: The Legion Tryouts. Like a club or sports team would, but I like it because it makes sense: The Legion NEEDS to be as big as it is because while their headquartered on earth, their mission scope is anywhere in the united planets which spans GALAXIES. They could be called on any time and need their full force or need to have severa l members on a smaller mission and frequently having members away on a mission was cleverly used to reduce the cast to whoever was needed for the story.

So it only makes sense to frequently look for new membbers to help strengthen their ranks... but given their teens and are recurting teens they need to be careful and need a logical way to reduce crowd flow. I mean you saw how many people used to line up for american idol before that died a justified death, people will do anything to be famous and they need to weed out those whose powers and skill just aren’t up to snuff yet, or those who are just dicks as, unsuprisingly, several stories have been built on assholes who applied and were rejected turning evil and attacking.. even though the Legion wasn’t even paticuarlly harsh. They also are more than fair as applicants CAN try again or if they prove themselves in other ways can be let in, as Bouncing Boy, my favoirite legionarre, was intially rejected for his power of .. well...

Yeah.. on paper inflating like a ball and bouncing around is kind of silly. In practice he can ricochet off enemies, walls, and obstacles and is fairly durable in that state. It’s why I don’t really brook mocking the guys power: yes it’s goofy.. but say that again when he hands you his ass. It’s the same with matter eater lad who yes is an actual character: While being able to eat anything is gloriously goofy.. it means he can chew through ANY substance and digest ANYTHING. Hell in the cartoon episode intorducing the subs they used both of these guys to great efffect: Bouncing Boy, who in the cartoon had to try out multiple times in his backstory, encouraged the future subs while Matter Eater Lad got in by EATING A FUCKING BOMB. He also had shades which I dind’t know he was missing but now I do. My point is the process is fair and well thought out and leads to some really fun scenes.

But yeah joining the legion is naturally Polar Boy’s dream, as he walks down the avenue of heroes, basically a series of statues honoring the legion and hopes all his hard work paid off. We then cut to the auditions, where he apparently waited all night. What I like about this story is that unusually for the silver age legion where it was mostly a sea of powers attached to a bunch of cardboard, really the dc silver age in a nutshell and why marvel broke out so much for having more dynamic and realistic characters, Polar Boy has more of a personality. It’s not MUCH but he’s a dedicated, hard working kid who just wants to join his heroes and seems really in awe of htem, a feeling we can all relate to. We’ve all had people we’ve looked up to, admired, and we’ve all had groups we wanted to join as kids, teens or what have you. And of course.. we all know what it’s like to be rejected by someone or something you badly wanted to be a part of. And that’s what happens to poor polar boy, who comes from a world with an intense sun thus his people developed super cold powers.. but he can’t control them well so while their impressive, they also freeze the legion. HIs powers are good... but due to their strength and radius he’s also a liablility. They give him an consolation anti-gravity belt.. they had these before eventually compressing them into the much cooler flight rings.. which I still desperatly want one of. I have the flash’s costume ring and a green lantern corps ring, but still no legion ring.

Naturally this devistates the poor boy and he wonders around dispondent till nightfall, convinced he’ll never be one of them. He soon meets Night Girl, a fellow reject with super strength given to her by her dad’s formula.. but only in darkness as she’s from a world without sunlight. She also faces a “hopeless future” but it’s then Polar Boy’s true strength reveals itself: he decides screw giving up on their dream and if they can’t be in the legion they’ll start their own Legion.

Though not to compete but to serve as a subtistute, in case the legion is ever incapacitated. So Night Girl gathers the other rejects the next morning. Cleverly one of them, Chlorophyll Kid was seen with Night Girl herslef at the tryouts behind Polar Boy. We soon learn about them and each of their origins: Stone Boy can turn himself into an immobile stone statue, as his world has half a year long nights and thus his people hybernate, Fire Lad who can spit hot fire literally and set anything combustable on fire and Chlorphyll Kid who can make plants grow rapidly. Each were rejected for resonable powers: Stone Boys powers too static, Fire Lad’s is too dangerous and Chorlpyl Kids toos pecific. But upon seeing all of this Polar Boy says they STILL have fantastic powers and still can help people and the legion.

Thus the Legion of Substittue Heroes is born. And I love them as much as the originals. As a bit of a misfit myself I relate to these guys: They have strange specific powers, got rejected by the big team.. while that trope is nothing new at the time it was unique and even now it’s a nice and inspiring message. Instead of giving up they form their OWN team to do what htey can anyway. They might not be the best like the legion but they can still help and still do what’s right even if not on their scale. It’s a great concept and really makes them endearing. Again I have a thing for the underdogs but I still really like these guys. It’s why it annoys me they got kind of spat on with time: While I love Keith Giffen and Paul Levitz run on the legion, and feel it’s the best of that contnuinty it’s not without fault and the two basically spent a full issue mocking the team and split polar boy off from them before making their own subs with only ONE of the originals. It just felt.. disrspectful. And so far no continuity has used them again until the recent bendis run, which has them announced for the Future Slate special. It took BENDIS, who dosen’t get how to use the team properly and is up his own ass, to bring them back in a new continuity and I find that obnoxious. The subs are a great concept and deserve to be honored as such and as such are one of my favorite superhero teams.

But their careers don’t start well as they doubt themslves, except for Polar Boy who boisters them along, and constnatly just end up going to missions the legion already has covered and when the legion go to fight some robot ships, they refuse the subs help.. which is fair though, as Brainy puts it they can’t risk putting untrained volunteers in harms way. Their about to just quit, in a really sad moment.. when CK, because I can’t spell cholophill and hate having to use spell check notices some odd seeds spread about.. and when he grows one a horrifying tree man shows up. They struggle with it till the setting son finishes it’s job, meaning Night Girl is at full power and whollops it and the subs spend the night destroying the seeds. They find out the next day the seeds came from the same planet as the robot ships, meaning the ships are a distraction for whoevers doing this and since they can’t just call earth, as the full force of the legion is needed with the robots and all it’d do is cause a panic, it’s down to them. Night Girl however is scared.. and I like that. It shows that while their regaining their confidence.. it’s sitll risky. Their a bunch of barely trained fanboys, and girl, going up against an alien invasion, with it down to them. They CAN save the world but it’s alright to be entirely terrified when your thrust into it this fast.

They make their way to the planet, having built a ship earlier and lie low, finding out what’s going on: The plant men are fully intellegent, and grow themselves..though how they know to attack and go to the bathrom and what not out of the seed I don’t know but I assume it’s a genetic thing or they might be some form of hive mind. point is the seed plan is to grow troops all over the world via rockets for an invasion, and it’s a brilliant concept for one too. Aliens who simply GROW the troops right into battle, born with the knowledge to do so, and right where they can ambush them. It’s down to our heroes and Stone Boy, whose been the most pesemistic, valiantly dives in to provide a distraction so they can destroy the factory and the seeds. Turns out he is useful as the most the treeple have is a space lead pipe.. yes really. I love the silver age. But they’ll bring ray guns soon, so Stone BOy knows it’s a suicide mission and now our heroes have a timer. But luckily.. our heroes are stronger than they think. Night Girl punches a way in till Night passes, while Polar Boy and Flame Lad use their powers in concert to make an opneing.. but with time running out Polar Boy finishes things by having CK grow all the seeds now they have acess.. thus exploding the planets population, destroying several cities from the number of bodies, and thu discourguing the treeple from trying again. Stone boy is able to flee with the rest of our heroes and the day is saved.

The heroes opt not to tell the public, as to take away glory for the Legion. It’s a noble gesture.. they do DESERVE credit, but they choose not to take it, preferring to let the legion get theres for stil lsaving the world from the robots. They stand firm, now confident they may someday make it to the big leagues.And it’s this that really makes me love them: Thier not the strongest or best, but they try anyway for the reasons a hero should: to help people, and not for the glory. THey remain unsung heroes and are fine with that. Eventually the Legion WOULD find out about them, but naturally instead of being dickheads about it, fully accepted them, even offering them some contests for membership, but that’s a story for another day. THey’d remain stalwart allies and valuable backup in crisis situations for years to come until the bollocks outlined above. But they’d never leave my heart and thanks to them.. the legion never left either.

Final Thoughts: While I do love the story for it’s personal signifigance to me, It’s stilll a really good story for the time. A bit stilted as was the style, but still good, well paced and with an endaring cast of underdogs who prove themselves in the end. It’s something diffrent from the usual clean cut ahead in life wasps these stories usually followed at the time. While the team’s still all white and all that, their outcasts and misfits who just want to help and have trouble beliving in themselves. Their a good standard to live up to.. and a good inspiration for me and my constnatly self hating self doutbing self. And I hope you enjoyed htem too. If you’d like to comission your own review, just dm me. It’s 5 bucks for individual issues. Later days.

#the legion of super heroes #the legion of substitute heroes #polar boy #fire lad #night girl #chorophyil kid #stone boy #silver age #comics #comics reviews #birthday

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bangtan-gal · 5 years ago

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Washed Away

Lee Jeno x Fem!Reader Agent!AU Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, kidnapping, weapon use, child abuse, angst, fluff Requested

Feet buried in the sand, eyes closed, and the waves gently crashing against the shore was the image of perfection to you. The beach was mostly empty this early in the morning, only a few runners hurrying past. You had gotten up early that morning in order to see the sunset and then found yourself too lazy to head back to the house, so instead you laid back in the sand.

It could’ve been better of course. You had booked this trip months in advance with your fiance, Jeno, but then something had come up. Specifically, work had come up.

You were happy for Jeno, you really were. It was amazing to see him getting the recognition he deserved in the field, but it was hard. In order for him to become more successful, he had to spend more time at work and less time with you. It hurt, but you understood.

Mostly.

Jeno had tried to convince you to wait and reschedule the trip so the two of you could both go. Instead, you’d been slightly petty when you told him that you were going anyway because you wanted to be at the beach instead of at home waiting to see if he’d return from whatever dangerous mission he was on.

“Ma’am…?” Your eyes opened to see a small boy approaching you. Tears were collecting at the corners of his eyes and his lips were quivering. You sat up.

“Hey bud, what’s wrong?” You asked.

He sniffled.

“I-I can’t find my mommy,” he mumbled. You stood up and moved towards him.

“Where did you last see her?”

He pointed in the direction of the parking lot so you took his hand and walked in that direction. He followed along beside you and his eyes darted around. As you continued to walk towards the parking lot, your stomach started to twist. It was oddly empty. A woman appeared around the corner, frantically looking around.

“Is that her?” You queried, pointing. He nodded, but instead of running to her side, he stood by you. The woman saw the two of you and hurried towards you. She hugged the boy, muttering thanks and worries. Then she looked up at you and her hand wrapped around her wrist.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered.

“O-oh, it’s fine,” you promised. Your stomach was starting to tighten even more and the cold, eerie feeling creeping up your spine wasn’t helping. Something wasn’t right here.

You tried to pull out of her grasp, but she held tight to you. You stepped back, your breathing started to pick up as she straightened up to her full height. You opened your mouth to scream for help but somebody came up from behind you and covered your mouth and your eyes. Thrashing was useless, whoever it was was much stronger than you.

The world slowly slipped away.

🗲🗲🗲🗲🗲

Jeno liked to think of himself as a cool-headed person and credited his success in his field to that skill. But the last time he heard from Y/N was three days ago. He’d forced himself to stay calm, telling himself that she just wanted alone time. Jeno knew she was mad at him, so he couldn’t blame her. Then yesterday when he went to pick her up from the airport only to find out she’d never even gotten on the plane, he started to lose it. Y/N had a fiery personality at times, but she wasn’t irrational.

“Sir, you have to let me go look for her.”

His boss looked up at him from under his eyebrows. There was no worry and even any remote interest in his gaze. He didn’t care. He wanted Jeno to stay here and work on the Bluehill Killer case.

“There’s plenty of other people who can do it,” he huffed.

“Jeno, it’s your case, isn’t it?”

The brunette frowned. His boss and his stupid rules: you take the case, you complete it.

“But sir… it’s Y/N.” As if that would make the answer any different. His boss shook his head once again and Jeno huffed, leaving the office. He stormed to his desk and sat down hard, angrily shoving his current case files out of the way.

“He said no?” Taeil asked. Jeno nodded, gritting his teeth. This wasn’t okay: someone could possibly be missing and his boss didn’t even care. “Just go man. I’ll say you threw up and headed home.”

Jeno frowned. “He won’t believe you.”

“He’ll be forced to.” Taeil shrugged.

With that, Jeno grabbed his phone and keys and rushed out of the building. He was already forming a plan in his head. His best option would be to call the inn that Y/N was staying at, get a ticket to Haeundae-gu, and just go with his instincts from there.

“Hi! This is Sana at MishMish Inn, how can I help you?” A cheery voice answered.

“I was just curious about one of your recent guests—Y/N Y/L/N—I’m her fiance and I haven’t heard from her for three days,” he explained as he hurried to his car. There was silence on the other side for a few seconds.

“Well… when she didn’t check out yesterday morning, we went to check her room… and it looked like no one had been in there for a while,” she said, her voice losing it’s cheer, “we have police on the case already, considering how suspicious it looked. She, well, she didn’t look like someone who would just disappear.”

Jeno could’ve screamed as he slammed his hand into the steering wheel. The horn honked.

“That’s ‘cause she’s not. Do the police have any sort of lead?” He asked, starting his car.

“It’s not my place to say sir.”

Jeno cursed and then thanked her, hanging up. He didn’t care about packing or preparing as he raced towards the airport. He thought all he had to do was flash his badge and ‘BAM!’ he’d have a flight to Haeundae-gu, but that was not how it happened.

Instead he bargained with the clerk for a good thirty minutes. He had to slid her twenty to get her to even look at planes going there and another fifty to get her to be willing to get him the ticket. He raced through security and to his gate after that. The hardest part of it was sitting still in the plane for a whole hour.

The second his feet were back on the ground, he was racing through the airport. After 96 hours, it was nearly impossible to find a missing person. He had twenty-four hours to meet that time-slot and it wasn’t enough time.

Jeno managed to get to the inn. Police cars were littered outside along with several police. Eyes darted his way in suspicion, but he ignored them.

“Where’s the room?” He asked, leaning against the front desk. The girl looked up at him, startled. Her mouth opened and closed and then she glanced around her.

“Are you the guy who called earlier?” She muttered, tilting her head. Jeno huffed, pulling his ID from his pocket and showing her it. Her mouth opened in an ‘O’ and she wordlessly pointed down the hallway.

Jeno’s heart pounded as he made his way down the hallway to where a few police officers conversed outside a door. He stared into it, eyes zeroing in on her unpacked suitcase and the few articles of clothing tossed around the room. He forced the gasp to stay in.

“Sir, we can’t have you over here,” a man in a suit muttered. Jeno shook himself out of his daze, showing him his badge. The man stared at it skeptically, then glanced up at him.

“Detective Huang,” he muttered, holding out a hand, “why did Seoul send you down here?” Jeno opened his mouth and then closed it with a frown.

“We… uh, we’ve seen a lot of disappearances like this,” he explained, “wanted me to check it out.”

The detective handed him his badge back, a skeptical stare on his face. Then he shrugged, turning towards the scene.

“Y/N Y/L/N, nineteen, female,” he stated, “went missing last night. No witnesses.”

“Do you know where she went missing?” Jeno asked.

“The staff said that she went down to the beach early morning every day. It’s natural to assume that she was taken around that time period in an area close by.” The detective paused for a second, pulling out a notepad and biting his lip. “Some of the people we’ve interviewed think it’s human trafficking.”

Suddenly Jeno had to fight the strong urge to throw up.

“I-is that common here?” “Not until recently, there’s been a reported gang that just migrated here,” he sighed. Then Detective Huang looked back at him. Jeno didn’t like the way he stared at him, almost as if he was picking him apart piece by piece. “This is gonna be a hard case.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow, relief washing through him.

“You’re not gonna drop it even though you have under twenty four hours?” The detective snorted. “I don’t believe in time limits.”

🗲🗲🗲🗲🗲

Y/N had been missing for eighty-two hours. Jeno was counting them and each one tied the knot in his stomach even tighter. Him and Detective Huang—Renjun—had interviewed over twenty people. They weren’t getting anywhere: no one had seen her. They had no leads and Jeno was disappointed to say that he could feel himself giving up.

“Have you seen this woman?” Renjun asked, holding up a picture of Y/N to a passerby. The man stopped, eyes scanning over the picture. Recognition lit up in his stare.

“Yeah, I’ve ran past her on the beach several times this week,” he replied, gaze moving between the two men. “Is everything alright?”

“Did you see her at all on Tuesday?” Jeno jumped in, desperation leaked into his voice. The man paused in thought, chewing on his lip.

“I… I was running by just as she was walking with a little boy to beach parking,” he murmured, “the kid looked like he’d been crying.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all Jeno needed. A spark of hope, a bright trail in the darkness. The two of them thanked the man and quickly made their way to Renjun’s car, discussing newfound information. Lost kids were a common trope for human trafficking gangs and it was possible there have been other victims and witnesses to it.

Renjun managed to contact the head of his office to get a notice set up, to see if anyone could give any insight to what happened. Renjun got off the phone with a smile, saying that it would be sent out soon. The two sat in silence for a second, both of them relishing the small victory. To outsiders, it may have been pointless, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Look, I don’t mean to intrude, but you seem really into this case. Is there a reason?”

Jeno paused, staring out the car window and into the slowly darkening sky. Then he shrugged. He wasn’t sure if now was a good time to tell Renjun the truth; he couldn’t risk getting kicked off the case and his boss being called.

“I-my sister was kidnapped a few years back. I guess you could say that it just reminds me of her,” he huffed, lying straight through his teeth with a calm expression. Renjun nodded in understanding and it almost made Jeno feel guilty. For all he knew, the man beside him could have actually experienced that.

“Did you ever find her?” Jeno looked down at his hands, voice dying out. “Not yet.”

Renjun didn’t ask anymore questions as they drove back to the station. Now all they had to do was wait for the calls to come in. Jeno found it painful and had to admire Renjun for how calm he was. This had always been his least favorite part of being a detective. The waiting.

Several hours passed and the sky continued to get darker. Jeno sat at an unoccupied desk, biting his nails. Renjun had dozed off and Jeno found himself to be the only one awake in the office. The silence was eerie and he hated it. The stillness gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts, and in that moment, he didn’t want to.

Thankfully, he was given a distraction by one of the phones ringing.

“Haeundae Office.”

“Um… you guys put out a notice about lost kids… and suspicious mothers?” The girl’s voice was soft. Jeno quickly pulled out his notepad, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear. Renjun hurried over, crouching down next to him.

“Yes, yes we did,” he rushed out, “have you seen something?” “Last week… it was late and I was at a store. A young boy approached me, sobbing and saying he couldn’t find his mom. He said they had been walking to store when he suddenly lost her… so I took him out to the parking lot. That was when we ran into his mother and I guess my instincts kicked in, because something didn’t seem right.

“The woman tried to grab me, but I escaped her and then there was some man approaching me. It haunts me to think of what would have happened if they got me.” Her voice was soft and continued to waver as she explained what happened. Jeno bit his lip, refusing to let that thought wash away the hope that was slowly flaring inside him. They had a witness and a lead.

“Thank you so much,” Jeno whispered into the phone, “did you get a good look at any of them?”

There was a nervous hum from the other end of the line.

“The little boy had dark brown hair and his eyes were really blue. The mother… I just remember her being really bony. I’m sorry, I was so desperate to get out of there that I didn’t pay much attention to details.”

“No, you’ve been lots of help miss. Have a good evening.”

Jeno hung up the phone, handing his notepad to Renjun. The detective’s eyes scanned over it and then he glanced up at Jeno.

“I recognize the description. A couple weeks back a report was called on a woman screaming at her son. It also helps that red hair isn’t very common here,” Renjun muttered, “we have her address in our database, but we need a reason to arrest her.”

Jeno snorted. “We don’t need a reason to ask her some questions.”

Renjun’s eyes flashed as he looked up at Jeno. The concern in his eyes was obvious, but he didn’t state it aloud. The detective was hesitant to give Jeno the address, but eventually he caved in. As Jeno got up, hurrying towards the door, Renjun grabbed his arm.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“So?”

“I’m not gonna go now and you can’t go alone.”

“I believe I can,” he retorted.

Silence stretched between them.

“Just don’t do something irrational,” Renjun sighed, stepping back. Jeno nodded, grabbing the car keys and hurrying outside. Jeno hopped into the car, typing the address in.

The drive was short. There were shivers running up and down his spine as he drove down the dark and empty roads. He didn’t realize how late it was—it was nearly midnight. As Jeno pulled drove by the house, he saw a little boy with red hair sitting on the porch. The lights were on.

Jeno slid out of the car, hand resting over his gun under his waistband. The boy noticed him as he slowly made his way up the driveway. It was the same description that the girl had given him: red hair and bright blue eyes. The boy had been crying.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered once Jeno was in hearing range. “Mommy has visitors.”

There was a bruise forming on his cheekbone. Jeno stepped up onto the porch and crouched down in front of him. His eyes darted to the door.

“Did the visitors do this to you?” He asked, brushing his thumb over the bruise. The boy flinched and then nodded, tears starting to slip from his eyes again. Jeno realized that he didn’t need to talk to the mom, the boy might talk better than any other suspect. He turned on his recorder and smiled at the boy. “Hey, can you tell me about a girl?” The boy stared at him as Jeno pulled out a picture of Y/N, showing it to him. He bit his lip and took the picture from Jeno, staring at it. Jeno felt his gut pull at the sight of guilt that overwhelmed the boy’s face; he looked way older than he should’ve.

“Mommy made me do it… she said she wouldn’t feed me if I didn’t do it,” the boy explained, “she was at a beach and I lied to her. Now… now she’s getting hurt.”

Jeno’s heart thumped.

“Do you know where she is?”

“One of Mommy’s friends took her to his house,” he mumbled, handing the picture back to Jeno. His blue eyes darkened as he glanced over his shoulder. “He’s in there with Mommy. He’s not happy.”

Jeno nodded with a smile. “Thank you. I-I’ll try to help you after I catch this man, okay?”

The boy didn’t reply and Jeno quickly hurried back to his car. His heart was racing as he pulled the car a little way from the house and then turned it off. This was reckless and completely stupid, because if something went wrong, he was alone. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to pull away and come up with a plan. Y/N was in trouble and he found it his job to save her.

A car drove by him and then parked in front of him. He stared at it, eyes widening as Renjun stepped out of the driver’s seat. The detective brushed his hair out of his eyes before hurrying towards Jeno’s car. He slid into the passenger’s seat and the whole time Jeno just stared at you.

“I thought you didn’t want to go.”

“Yeah, well, if you died, that would look bad on my record,” Renjun joked and then glanced towards the house, “so, what’s the plan?” Jeno also looked at the house.

“I talked to the boy. He said the man who took Y/N is in there, so I guess I’m just gonna follow him once he leaves,” Jeno muttered.

“That’s a really bad idea.”

Jeno ignored him and continued to keep his gaze focused on the house. It wasn’t long before the door opened and a man stepped out. Jeno’s back straightened as the man stepped into a car across the street and his car stirred to life. He waited until the car was several meters down the street before he turned on his car and carefully followed.

“You know, he’ll probably notice us and proceed to lead us on a wild goose hunt,” Renjun pointed out.

Jeno shot him a look of disbelief. “Are you always this positive?”

“Oh sorry—this is a fabulous plan and we won’t get caught at all!”

Jeno grumbled a ‘shut up’ and then focused on the car in front of him. The man didn’t seem to notice they were following as his driving stayed controlled and it wasn’t like he was trying to shake anyone. Eventually he pulled into a huge house and Jeno stopped several blocks away, his hands starting to shake.

“You good?”

Jeno looked over at Renjun and then nodded.

“Yeah, let’s just go catch this scumbag.”

“Actually, why don’t you try to find the girl while I distract him. The two of us barging in there might not go too well,” Renjun hummed, stepping out of the car. Splitting up was a bad idea, but so far, this whole plan was just rolling with the punches.

Renjun marched straight up to the door, shoulders and chin high and looked almost as if he didn’t even fear death. He rang the doorbell excessively as Jeno hurried towards the back, searching for a window or door to slip through. Jeno had to thank his luck as he found a window slipped a crack open. He opened it up and climbed through.

The house was mostly dark and was huge. He started racking his brain for where to search. Where were the best places to hide someone? In a house this big, especially with neighbors over a mile away, you could put someone in the kitchen and be fine.

He could faintly hear Renjun chatting away with man, mumbling something about how his car broke down and that this was the closest house. Jeno didn’t waste any time, quickly opening doors and searching rooms. Renjun’s act wouldn’t last forever and sooner or later, the man would either shut the door or Renjun would do something even crazier.

Jeno tried his best to be quiet as he rushed up the stairs. Doors opened and closed. His heart was starting to race. What if she was already gone? What if they’d already put her in the system or she was dead?

He didn’t want to know how he’d react if that happened.

He threw one door open and was greeted by a creepy looking office. It was empty, but something about it compelled him to venture in deeper. He opened drawers, tried and failed to log into the computer, and read the notes that were scattered across the desk. He walked around the desk, questioning his sanity and that was when the floor creaked beneath him.

It creaked like stairs.

It creaked as if there was something hollow beneath it.

He crouched down, tracing the floor until he found a spot where the floor was no longer even. There was a split, leaving one side higher than the other. He traced it, going around a corner and across that side until something cold lay under his fingers. There was no key and the latch opened swiftly and somehow quietly.

The shelf beside him exploded as a bullet pierced into the wood.

Jeno jumped up, eyes meeting dark green ones. The man stared at him, head cocked to the side, and gun still pointed at him.

“I knew something was fishy about that skinny boy.”

Renjun.

Shit, was the detective okay?

“Sir, if you could just put the gun aw—”

He fired again and this time the bullet hit between Jeno’s feet.

Something told him he was out of warning shots.

“Look, we can talk about thi—”

BANG.

Pain exploded in his thigh.

BANG.

The green-eyed man in front of him collapsed and Renjun appeared behind him, blowing a tuft of hair from his face. Jeno crumpled to the floor as well, hissing and pressing his hand to the wound.

“Oh fuck.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine! Get down there, I think-I think she’s there,” Jeno snapped, scooting back. Blood seeped out around his fingers and slid down his jeans, staining the dark wood beneath him. Renjun opened his mouth and then didn’t argue, crawling down the ladder. Jeno’s eyes pinched shut as the pain only got worse and he could already feel the room around him start to drift away.

“She’s here!” He groaned in relief.

He heard sobbing and something rushed up the stairs. He forced his eyes open, watching as Y/N’s head appeared above the ledge. Her eyes met his and her mouth dropped open, momentarily pausing on the ladder. Then she threw herself at him, sobs growing louder as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m alive. You’re here,” she gasped out. Y/N pulled back and her gaze dropped to his thigh. “Y-you’re hurt.”

She looked up at him.

“You dumbass,” she whispered.

He cracked a smile.

“I’m your dumbass, right?” 🗲🗲🗲🗲🗲

Two Months Later

The sky had never looked more blue. Jeno grinned, wrapping his arm around Y/N. The breeze was cool, but it was relaxing as it shifted through his hair. The waves crashed quietly against the shore as the pair stood in the sand. Y/N’s eyes weren’t focused on the sky though, it was focused on the paper in her hand.

Jeno’s resignation letter.

“I never thought you’d do it,” she muttered, handing it back to him.

He shrugged.

“I don’t need my time with you being taken away because of that job.”

He stated it simply.

It was simple.

Y/N was more important than anything else in his life.

158 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

Are there any hobbies you have that you don’t perform in front of others? I like to do stuff like surveys, reading, coloring, scrolling through Tumblr, and watching YouTube videos by myself.

What’s one bad or inconvenient habit you used to have but no longer do? I can’t think of a bad habit I used to have, I still have plenty of them.

Do you find it difficult to kick a habit or a routine that’s detrimental? Yes.

When was the last time you had a particularly hectic day? My Disneyland vacation last year. I love Disneyland and had a good time, but the traveling part and spending all day at the park going all over the place is quite exhausting for me. That’s a lot of activity for me. Not to mention all. the. people.

Where’s one place you’ve spent a lot of time lately? I spend like all my time at home except for my once a month doctor appointment.

Is there anywhere you wish you could spend more time? I wish I could go on more vacations.

What do you do when you simply don’t know what to do? There are definitely days where I’m just really bored and my usual go-tos don’t cut it for me and the day just seems to draaag, but I end up still doing those things or mindlessly watching TV cause I don’t know what else to do. Or just take a nap.

When was the last time you felt you were in an impossible situation where, despite what you did, you couldn’t win? I’ve felt that way these past few years with health related things and other stuff in my life.

How did you find out about your current favorite band? I don’t have like a new current favorite.

Where are you most likely to go when you need clothing? Majority of my clothes are from Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

Is anything significant weighing on your mood right now? The usual stuff.

When was the last time you tried to do something yet failed? I feel like I’m just failing at life in general.

Do you think your life is comprised more of success or failure? Failure.

What’s one personality trait that’s not strong in you? Ambition.

Are you a difficult individual to get to know? I wouldn’t have said that a few years ago, but I would now. Well, unless you’re a follower of my surveys. I’m definitely not this open in person. Not that I was before, but what I think would make it more difficult now is the fact that I’m just so distant and withdrawn and have really just kept to myself the past few years. I’ve holed up at home and haven’t had an interest in socializing.

When was the last time you opened up to someone and about what? I open up in surveys all the time.

To whom do you feel the most important? My parents and brother.

When was the last time you changed your mind? Hm. It was probably recently, but I don’t remember right now.

Is there something you want but might not ever have? Better health.

What’s something you’re working to obtain? Nothing. That’s the problem. :/

How do you console yourself when you’re distraught? I cry and then try to distract myself.

Do you tend to enjoy your dreams? My dreams are just super random and weird a lot of the time.

What would you do if you did not require sleep? Gah. I’m glad we do cause I have no idea. There are days that just seem to drag and I want it to end and sleep is a great escape and passerby, so yeah I’m glad we require sleep. I need that time to escape myself and stuff for awhile.

Are there any projects or goals you’ve recently abandoned? I did that a few years ago and still haven’t gotten back on track.

What in life serves to keep you going? My family.

How frequently, if ever, do you want to give up? I feel that way often.

What was the last good news you received? Uhhh.

What’re some of the important things around you? My family, which includes my doggo.

How long has your favorite song been your favorite? I have numerous favorites.

In what ways does music influence your life? It doesn’t, really. Especially lately. I don’t listen to music much anymore like I used to. It’s weird.

Are you more inclined to appreciate sweet or savory foods? Savory. Lately I’ve had a serious sweet tooth, though. I’ve been eating sweet stuff a lot more often recently.

Do you prefer more hot or cold types of food? Hot.

How about hot or cold types of beverages? Hot and room temp.

Who last told you to do something and did you do it? My mom asked me to grab her something on my way by it in the kitchen and I did.

Have you ever felt as though you were unrecognizable to yourself? That’s how I’ve felt the past few years. I don’t know who this person is I’ve become, but I don’t like it.

Are you bothered by any of your physical features? Yeah, all of them.

Are romantic relationships important to you at this point in your life? No.

Who was the last person to apologize to you for something they did? I don’t recall.

Bruises and cuts everywhere? No.

Have you ever kissed someone with a tattoo? Nope.

What did you do today? So far I’ve just watched a few YouTube videos, scrolled through Tumblr, and currently I’m watching Sister, Sister on Netflix and doing surveys.

What did you do last night? Had dinner and watched the first two episodes of Wandavision and an episode of Dare Me with my mom and brother.

Last night, you felt? Alright.

Will you regret your next kiss? I hope not?

Ever had a guy best friend? Yeah, a few.

Is there a movie you’ve seen countless times? Yeah, several.

Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with? No.

How is your last ex doing? I don’t know. I haven’t seen or talked to him in almost 5 years and he’s not active on social media.

Are you wearing a necklace, who got it for you? Nope. Is there someone who can always make you smile? My doggo.

Are you excited for anything? No.

Anything you’d like to say to your ex? Nah, I’m good.

Do you give up easily? I’ve given up in a lot of ways over the past few years. :/

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Not of the romantic kind.

Did you deny or accept your last friend request? Deny. It was some random person and I only accept people I know.

Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight? No.

Are any of your friends taller than you?

How much money did you spend today? Zero as of now. I don’t plan on spending any money today.

Are you shy? Yepppp.

Are you completely over the last person you kissed? Yes.

Ever given your ALL to someone? Yes.

Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? That is how I feel.

Last thing you had to drink? Water.

Do you ever just lay on the carpet in your house? No. I don’t find sitting or lying on the floor comfortable at all.

Do you prefer ice or no ice in your drinks typically? No ice.

Are you a lazy ass sometimes? Yes.

What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done lately? Nothing recent comes to mind.

Do you ‘think out loud’? Yeah, I do that a lot.

Do you take gummy vitamins? I used to. If I took my vitamins like I’m supposed to that’s the kind I would take.

How do you know the majority of the people you know? They’re my family.

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? Nope.

Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Yes.

Do you use Google? Yeah, all the time.

Would you like to go swimming right now? No. It’s wintertime for one, but I don’t like swimming anyway so it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t.

Can you play electric guitar? No.

Do you have an HDTV? Yeah, I have a smart TV.

When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Just a bit ago. I always use a straw with my drinks.

Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? Yes.

How long was your last phone call? Like a minute.

Do you need to repaint your nails? I have’t painted my nails in years.

Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Possibly. I never followed that stuff closely or actually believed in them, I used to just read them for fun when I was younger.

Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? No.

Do you have a wall calendar? I do.

Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I kept a giraffe photo from an old calendar and hung it up in my room.

Can you handle the cold? A lot better than I can handle the heat.

Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.

When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? Several years ago while on a trip with a friend. It was before the days of Uber and Lyft.

Would you ever join the army, air force or navy? No. I couldn’t even if I wanted to because of my physical disability.

How old is the person you last kissed? He just turned 30.

Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? My mom.

Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? Yeah, haha.

Do you believe in ghosts/supernatural occurrences? I believe in spirits.

What was the most expensive thing you’ve broken? A laptop.

Has anyone texted you yet today? Nope.

Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? No, I was really scared about catching it. It’s crazy cause now looking back it wasn’t even close to the seriousness of COVID and how easily its spread.

Is there a light on in the room you’re currently in? Yes.

Are your feet touching the floor? No, I’m sitting on my bed.

Have you ever been in a car accident? No, thankfully.

Can you focus well in high-stress situations? No. I get very overwhelmed and frazzled.

Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? No.

Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? No. I don’t turn to music when I’m upset.

Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? Yes.

Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless?

Is there anyone you dread going into public with? No. I dread going out in public myself cause I feel I’m trash and I’m super self-conscious.

Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? It happens sometimes in a survey when I’m really going off in a rant or I’m rambling about something.

Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? It can be both, it depends where it’s done and the purpose of it.

Do you buy things online? I do a lot of online shopping.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years ago

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 16

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15

*adele voice* hello, it’s meeeee i was wondering if after all this time you’d like to reeeaaad. AHEM, in other words, thank you for reading, you lot mean a lot to me :’)

“I saw the cops on campus this morning.” Strands of hair escaped her haphazard ponytail, and she blew it out of her face. “You should really do this once a week so it doesn’t get so nasty,” she muttered, tone completely changing. She missed my shrug as she bent on her knees, foraging under the sink.

All signs of Harry had been removed since the night before, besides the faint clean scent lingering on the pillow. But even that was fading from my mom’s trigger happy Febreezing. Harry had snuck out earlier than me, just sending a text saying he had an early before-game practice.

“Mom, you really don’t have to clean this up.”

She ignored me for the upteenth time, pulling out Clorox wipes and focusing all her strength on the built-up gunk on the counter. “At least take turns or something. You do one week, Renny does the other.”

Tap Ramen must have been made by people who knew most college kids couldn’t afford more than a coffee and dehydrated noodles - on a good day. I slurped up the artificial chicken flavor and winced as the scalding water dribbled on my chin, some falling on the carpet. We cleaned whenever we could. But recently I’d been swamped and had zero motivation for any extra obligations, much less for cleaning. Renny just… didn’t. I think Renny saw a broom once, and hid it further out of reach.

More Clorox wipes were drawn and she moved to the sink.

“What were you going to say about the cops?” I asked.

“Oh, right.” She pushed back her hair with the back of her hand. “It was kind of weird. Do you know if anything’s happened?”

I offered her a bite of my ramen. She shook her head, sweat beads lining her forehead.

“Okay” - I tried to explain between chunks of noodle what was happening, but she made me swallow and start over. “Supposedly there’s some kind of gang that’s been tagging the walls around school. We woke up to an e-mail today and I guess they tagged the courtyard last night. There’s a game later though.”

“That’s frightening...”

“I think that’s why the cops are here. Extra security to make sure everyone feels safe.”

“Freaky.” She waited for me to say I agreed with her, that this was random and unexpected, but I didn’t. Fear lingered in her eyes, and I knew a couple of cops didn’t make her feel any better. In a second, she pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. “I just want my angel to be safe.”

My eyes closed, wishing it could be as simple as it was when I was a kid. When she could hold me tight, and tell me good guys always won - and I believed her. “Thanks momma.”

She gripped both my arms when she pulled back. “You don’t have any plans for next weekend right?”

I knew that tone. Some mandatory event was coming up and the thought of another something to do hurt my head. Midterms were over, but with sorority meetings, soccer games, and Zayn’s art project, I still needed to get caught up grading papers for Dr. Rhinecuff and write my own. There were only so many descriptions of the Krebs cycle I could read before the red pen sounded more appealing lodged in my eye. I rubbed my temple. “Mooooom.”

“What?” Her hand cradled my own that gripped my head, scared something was wrong.

How could I tell her I didn’t want to do whatever she was going to tell me? “I feel like I’m always doing something.” Another scalding bite of soup burned my mouth and I cringed.

“I know, but-”

“I just haven’t been given a second to myself to breathe!”

She flinched, retracting her hands. “Your brother’s coming into town.”

I faltered as she handed me her phone, bypassing her screensaver of Harry and I at the gala to pull up the text.

She wasn’t joking.

“Did he say why…?” I managed to mumble, half-fanning my mouth, trying to salvage whatever taste buds had survived my voluntary attack.

“He has a conference in Irvine. But he’s also family. He doesn’t always need a reason to come and visit us.”

I almost snorted but covered it with a cough for her sake. “Doesn’t he though?”

“Y/N!” she scolded.

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

A sort of sadness filled her voice. “I know we barely see him, but he’s still my son.”

The words hung in the air. The fact that she needed to state something like that startled me more than I thought it would. She had two children, but one of them was more a stranger. We saw him maybe once or twice a year for a conference, Christmas if we were lucky. While her son was a stranger, her daughter was turning more unrecognizable every day. I softened. It wasn’t her fault she pushed out a numbers-chasing robot of a human.

“So you’re coming to dinner,” she said. The slight sheen in her eyes disappeared as she bat her lashes, a determined gleam taking its place.

I guess sometimes you couldn’t choose your family.

------

You also couldn’t replace the comfort of mom with a chai almond milk latte, but a girl could try.

My phone buzzed and I tried to ignore the way I deflated when it was Renny.

Can you bring me a lowfat latte I’m dyyyyinnnggg

Somehow, using her ridiculous charms and guiles, Renny had gotten the professor to allow her to turn in her essay a week late after spewing some story about how she was so overwhelmed from the stress of school and tonsillitis.

My phone buzzed again and I couldn’t help but snort at the dark moon emoji Renny added. The tall basketball player in front of me turned around, and I ducked my head down, clearing my throat. Shady moon emoji = the funniest emoji EVER, as verified by Renny and yours truly. Also worked as our code for beyond the world of the living. Running off two hours of sleep? Shady moon emoji. Just ran into your ex? Shady moon emoji. Well, I didn’t have any exes. But Renny definitely got some use out of that scenario.

I picked up our lattes, heading out the door. Renny was probably sitting with her head on her laptop cursing the extended deadline which only meant extended procrastination.

“Excuse me, miss!”

I stalled at the sound of authority. I could turn around, or keep walking. Unfortunately, I chose the former.

Rogue Cop from the frat house walked towards me, stalling a few feet away. “Do you have a moment.”

But it wasn’t a question. I nodded, and he pulled me aside to the grassy courtyard where kids rushed from one class to another. From the Starbucks patio, I felt eyes peering over laptops watching as he crossed his arms, his eyes unreadable behind black sunglasses. This was very… public.

“I was just on my way to your room, actually, so I’m glad I caught you. I have a few more questions.”

His name badge reflected in the sun, blinding me for a moment. Officer Ramirez. I’d shoved his card deep in my dresser drawer, but I hadn’t thrown it away.

“How do you know the Styles family?”

I shrugged. “I have a class with Harry. We were studying for our midterm together the other day.”

“Did you attend their family’s charity gala?”

Something told me he already knew the answer. I nodded.

“What happened that night?”

“I don’t know the full details of it, but when everyone was inside the auction room, the- I guess… I saw their family portrait was stolen.”

“How did you come to see that?”

“Mrs. Styles screamed. Everyone saw it, I just rushed to the sound like everyone else.”

“Did you see the image that was on the wall.”

Obviously.

“Yes?” I swallowed, hating how nerves warped it into a question as the conversation twisted.

“Can you remember anything else about the time you saw the symbol at Kean’s? Where was it, when was it…? Anything you can remember could help us in a big way.”

My eyes flitted to passerbys, each one turning to look at us once. Some had their phones out, probably zooming in for Snapchat or to message concerned parents. I hid further behind Officer Ramirez’s frame.

“It was a tattoo. On the back of the wrist.” My voice wavered, unwanted adrenaline making my body tremble from the inside-out. “Sometime in September.”

“Would you be able to recognize this person if we showed you him?”

“No. It was dark, and they were wearing a hoodie. I couldn’t see their face.”

“How many were there?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said they. How many did you see with the tattoo?”

“Only one. Outside the shop. But he was with a friend. He was shorter.” A shaky hand raised to tuck some hair behind my ear. He noticed.

“Did you speak to them?”

“They didn’t hurt me!”

My outburst caught him off-guard. He inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. Even his breath was calculated. “I see.” He rubbed the stubble beneath his chin, looking at the two drinks in my hand. “If there was anything that happened, it’s okay to tell me. It would only help us.”

“I just saw one tattoo.”

But even I could tell my voice was weak. He nodded, unconvinced, but I knew that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to prove his suspicion right.

“Thank you for your time.”

I nodded, taking this as an opportunity to walk away.

“As you know,” he called out, waiting for me to stop before continuing. “The gang tagged the school grounds this morning. Their tags are moving towards the coast, outside of their normal range, so just be aware of your surroundings. Notice the people around you.” He spoke like a father, but beyond the sunglasses was still a cop, and I knew he was dissecting my poker face for any sign of a flinch.

“Always.” And even I was impressed with how confident how I sounded.

I turned around, closing my eyes, and pretended for a second I was sinking into the earth, the cool dirt covering my body and hiding me from the world instead of my alternative. That when I opened my eyes, the world would be too close, looking at me, gossiping about me, wondering about me.

The random girl who talks to Harry now turned into the random girl who talks to the cops. That had a spicy ring to it, but I wondered how much the two went hand in hand.

I tossed the cooled lattes in the nearest trash can, shooting Renny a text.

Sorry. Line was too long.

------

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. But I think I was used to that now. Later in the art studio, Zayn put down his brushes. He cleared his throat, and I stirred on the chair, ripped from my reverie.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s all over your face. So it’s all over the canvas.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, cringing at how the words flew out of my mouth so easily. I shouldn’t apologize so much.

He mulled something over in his mind until the annoyingly familiar look of pity appeared. I looked away from his soft eyes, out towards the window, trying to escape the sadness he reflected back to me.

Harry was right.

I didn’t like the way he saw things.

--------

“Well you never, ever, EVER have to do that again.”

I looked to Renny, one brow arched as she shoved a fry in my mouth. “One, because it was your last session. But TWO, and most important… because I will model for Zayn next time.” She made a silly face and raised her eyebrows. From the field, the band started to play at that exact moment and she burst out laughing. I smiled, glad she was enjoying herself.

We stood by the locker rooms, waiting for the boys to get a spare moment to give us their extra jerseys.

“Would you ever think that we’d both be dating guys on the soccer team?” she mused.

I gave her a look.

“Or whatever it is you and Harry are doing. It’s crazy, right?”

If you told me two months ago that the guy who’d walked into class with a black eye would be the guy I was waiting on now, I’d laugh. If you then proceeded to tell me this man was Harry Styles, I’d stop laughing and say you should never be a comedian because your jokes were too far from reality.

“Crazy,” I agreed, eyes bulging out of my head for emphasis.

“W’as so crazy girls?” Niall strolled out, arms spread open with the jersey tossed over his shoulder. Renny jumped on him, legs wrapping around his waist as if there was some kind of magnetic pull attached to their hips. Harry wasn’t too far behind and gave me a head nod. I felt my own pull.

I came up to him, suddenly feeling a little dumb for having asked for this in the first place. This was normal, though, right? Totally normal? He beckoned me a little further away around the corner from Niall and Renny who were already pressed up against the wall. Neither of us wanted to see the wordless pep talk she was giving him.

“Right. Arms up,” he ordered.

I scoffed at his smug smile, but didn’t argue, putting up my arms. I looked him dead in the eye as he aligned the jersey with my hands. The places his skin brushed mine made my hair stand on end, aware of each goosebump that was now so delicately close to him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to take off what I’m wearing first?” I mocked.

He paused, looking at me as he tugged the jersey down a little more aggressively than necessary.

With the jersey on, he watched while I fixed my hair. “M’not into public showings.”

“I was kidding,” I mumbled.

“I don’t think you were.”

“I was!”

Scrutinous eyes appraised my flustered state, and he fought a smirk. His voice was velvet, suddenly Mr. Seduction. “You don’t have to deny yourself with me.” His fingers looped through my jeans’ belt loops, tugging me closer. Our hips touched, but when I thought he was going in for a kiss, he bit the tip of my nose instead.

“Who are you???” I flinched, but before I could say anything more he gently pushed me back so he could get a good look at me. The whiplash from being close to him had me reeling. I hesitated before doing a spin.

His lips pursed before breaking into a smile. “Waited a while to see this.”

“Worth the wait?” My confidence faltered as he scanned over my body, up the curve in my legs and the rise of my chest, until he searched my face, finding some hidden meaning in my words again.

“I’d bet on it.”

I couldn’t meet the intensity of his gaze, so I looked to his own jersey. “We’re matching.”

“I’m a little offended.”

“Why?”

“I think you wear it better than me.”

He winced as I hit him on the shoulder. “Who turned you so cheesy.”

“Oi! Offense!”

From around the corner, Niall peaked his head around. “We got two minutes, mate.”

I hid my frown from Harry as he turned to Niall, the sharp edge of his jawline made more prominent from the fluorescent lights above us. Parts of him were shadowed, and when he yelled fuck off to Niall (big smile, just banter), I noticed even his neck was attractive.

I laughed, absolutely ridiculous, and he turned to me.

“W’as so funny?”

I didn’t say anything as his hands snuck around my waist to pull me in again. But I don’t think I needed to say anything. Slowly, I leant up to his perfectly tousled curls instead, resting my forehead against his, hoping to keep this feeling locked in forever. The softest sigh escaped him.

“Did you hear about what happened last night?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah.” I opened my eyes, but his were still closed.

He hummed, tugging gently on my jersey. “You don’t have to wear this if you don’t want to.”

“Heyyy, you said you wanted to make me happy.” I nudged my nose against his, and he smiled. There it was. That’s what I wanted.

“I want you to be safe.” His brows stitched and the smile fell again. Just like that.

I pulled back, but his hands stayed firm, keeping me tight against him. The gang had been on campus. Kean’s wasn’t too far away, but a marking here was a clear breach of territory. If I was worried, that was one thing. But if Harry was worried, I was terrified.

“Stop that.” He saw my spiralling thoughts and snapped me back to the present, gently lifting my chin. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“I just don’t know what they want. You can’t promise me that it’s going to be okay.”

“Fair... but I’m a strong boy, Y/N.”

“Yeah well I don’t necessarily have as many muscles as you.”

There were dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy smile on his lips. Somehow, he was going to be strong enough to go out on the field and give it his all. It took all the energy in the world for me to get out of bed this morning, let alone run a field fifty times over. “I’m going to make sure you don’t have to use any of them,” he promised, looking over his shoulder. He backed me up against the wall, back blocking us to any invasive eyes.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“How can you be so confident… and just ready, all the time?”

The roar of the crowd picked up as the announcer spoke. He’d have to leave soon. He’d go out there with the strength and infallibility he proved each game. He’d use all of the world’s bullshit as fuel to win.

But right now, he was outside the public eye.

Right now, his stubble tickled my jaw as he ran his mouth to my ear.

“Cos I’m a damn good liar.” He dipped his mouth lower, placing a kiss on that sensitive spot that made my breath hitch. His lips were light, but a hard knick of his teeth tugged on the smooth skin. The softest breath escaped me, but he heard it. I knew he did. He’d started gentle, but as soon as the breath was out he pulled harder on my skin, nibbling, sucking, the stubble scratching deliciously against my neck, desperate to hear the sound again. And again. My back arched from the pressure, pressing my body closer as he turned me to a panting mess. He was enjoying this as much as I was, I could feel him grow against my thigh, and I wanted nothing more than to drag him into the locker room and see every inch of him.

He pulled away too soon, hair disheveled, and a satisfied smirk on his face.

“I thought you weren’t into public displays?” I asked, breathlessly.

“That wasn't a display.” His fingers traced my bottom lip, mesmerizing himself with how his thumb slid down, my lip running with it until it slid back up. “That was a warning.” He smirked, turning on his cleats, looking back just as my hand covered the tingling patch on my neck.

“If they fuck with you, they fuck with me.” He shrugged, walking backwards, naughty schoolboy grin lasting but a moment before he disappeared around the corner.

I scoffed, wanting to pound my fists against the wall for having been left by him again!! Being sucked and dumped… again!!!

At least Renny was high on cloud 10000. All she could talk about was how good Niall was at kissing, and in the sheets, and UGH she just wanted to rip off his jersey and DO HIM RIGHT NOW. She shook me vigorously to get her point across. At least that was one frustration we could agree on.

Once in the soccer stadium, we struggled to find a free space in the stands. The Panthers had basically secured their rankings, and now the stands were full twice a week to see how long this winning streak could go. We looked like deer in the headlights scanning the sea of faces until we saw a platinum bob bouncing up and down. “Y/N!!” Gemma shouted, but we could only read her lips.

We pushed our way through the crowd, almost impossible to get down the aisle as everyone stood up in a cheer. I tossed a look back - the team had rushed onto the field. Harry was in the front, repeatedly lifting up his hands to the crowd. Scream louder. And they did.

Renny nudged me further up the stands, and I followed her gaze to the DGS - Viv, Karli, Shelby and others faces of their clan. I couldn’t see Lynn. I squinted harder. She was probably there somewhereeeee- WELP. Viv caught me staring. I ducked lower behind the stranger I was trying to pass. She shouldn’t be able to see me, but I could still feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my jersey with Harry’s giant #13 impossible to miss.

Frickity. Frickity. Frack.

“Should we sit with them?” Renny asked, barely dodging the slosh of beer from someone raising their arm a little too vigorously.

“HA! I’m good. You can though.”

I finally smooshed my way past everyone, practically falling in Gemma’s lap with Renny not too far behind.

Gemma looked at the hickey briefly, but was polite enough to not mention anything. I didn’t have a mirror with me, but if how it was stinging was any judge of size, it was way bigger than a quarter. When the halftime show was on and the band was playing, Renny left for the DGs. She squeezed my hand. “I’m only going to say hi. I’ll come back.” I smiled, nodded, but I knew she wouldn’t.

The thing was, I didn’t mind Gemma’s company. At all actually. If we hadn’t seen her, I would’ve been forced to mingle, and I didn’t want to think about forcing conversation right now. I didn’t want to think about much of anything. Compared to Harry’s dark enigma, Gemma was a breath of cool light. A little reserved, sure, but not shy. And she wouldn’t press me into talking when I didn’t want to.

“Where’s Charlie?” I asked.

“Left. He had work in England. Life across the pond,” she mused. ��His was a roundtrip, mine was a one-way, but I’ll be back by Christmas hopefully.”

Disappointment washed over me. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten attached to the friendly man. How funny the one person who reminded me of my brother leaves the same week my ghost of a brother returns. Could I trade them?

“He didn’t want me to come,” Gemma sighed suddenly. Her hair was drawn back in a fishtail braid, and she picked at the ends.

“Charlie?”

“No. Harry.”

She sat straighter, tossing the braid over her shoulder. “But I think a part of him would’ve been sad if I didn’t. He does that sometimes. Says things he doesn’t mean.” Her eyes were glued to the field.

“Why wouldn’t he want you to come?” My tone was sympathetic. At our sleepover, Harry had said they’d fought, but he hadn’t wanted to discuss it. There wasn’t any way I was going to drag the truth out of him, but maybe Gemma...

She rolled her eyes, irritated. ““Well…” she sighed, clearly not quite sure where to start. Or if she should start at all.

“I won’t tell Harry,” I said, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, pfft.” She waved her hand, dismissing my comment. “I know it’d come out sooner or later.”

It wasn’t a diss towards me though. I thought of Harry’s invasive eyes and my fiery tongue… and she was right. It probably would have come out. At least the thought had been there.

“I’m just a little worried about him,” she confessed. “I mentioned it’d be nice to have our mother come down and stay a while. There’s plenty of room in that house of theirs, but he’s-”

The roar of the crowd drowned out her words. Harry had scored. I clapped instantly, but it was brief, distracted by Gemma’s words.

“Are his parents cool with...your mom?” It was weird phrasing, and knowing absolutely zero history about their relationship didn’t exactly help. Gemma seemed forgiving, unphased at least.

“Lionel’s...open to it. And Mary-” Gemma looked away, not sure how to describe her. “She’s been gone recently.” She did a sweeping motion above her head. She clearly didn’t mean physical absence. “They’ve been generous to let me and Charlie stay, so I can’t imagine they’d rob Harry of that right to decide for himself.”

“Why doesn’t he want to see her?” I ask, avoiding the Mary topic for now. The flash in her eyes says I’ve asked a little too much. I should feel embarrassed, but she shrugs, hiding it well.

“He hasn’t seen her since he was a child… it’s been a long time.” I remembered Viv telling me Harry was adopted when he was seven the same time Gemma moves a strand of hair from my face like a mother would. She glanced at the exposed hickey. “How’s he been though? S’he seem fine? You probably see him more than me.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a deflection away from revealing anything more about her brother, or blatant curiosity. Perhaps it was a bit of both. I shied away from her touch, not sure how much she knew about Harry and I. Did he tell her anything about me I wonder? Or was I still the “friend” from English class? No matter what kind of tacit understanding we’d shared ever since the cops arrived at the frat house, I didn’t know how far that understanding went in public.

“I see him sometimes,” I admitted. “Between school and the sorority, and Harry having soccer practice all day every day, we study sometimes… I guess-” I shrugged “-I guess I see him enough.” But it wasn’t enough. Not really. Because every minute without him, he lingered stubbornly in the recesses of my mind, and the smallest unrelated thing could remind me of him. Sometimes that reminder was enough. Other times, the giant black t-shirt-wearing sass god that he was in my mind refused to be tucked away and sat on top of everything else - which made it exceedingly hard to concentrate on homework, work, sleep, and anyone that didn’t have curly brown hair and shadowed green eyes. I was already three episodes into the Housewives, and had only seen about two short clips of him.

It didn’t help that I now had photographical evidence he existed.

After seeing my mom’s lockscreen, I studied my favorited photo a little longer. We stood side by side, opulent and regal in my red-wine ball gown and Harry in his black-and-white elegance. I frowned at how I seemed to lean into him a little more than he did into me, but his hand still claimed my waist, fingers dipping lower onto my hip. Our masks hid different truths (or were some the same?). Each time I’d look at it again, I pretended not to have seen the image a dozen times before, opening and closing my eyes as though it’d help me look at it differently… each time, I thought the same.

We looked like we belonged together, the woman in the dress and the man in the tux. We fit.

If you took away the costumes, would it still be true?

“He is a little on-edge,” I continued cautiously. Harry ran across the field, a little slower than usual, and I remembered his reddened eyes. “I think he’s having trouble sleeping.”

She nodded as if this wasn’t a surprise to her. “He didn’t used to.” But it sounded like a question. “Sometimes I think it’d be better if I hadn’t come,” she said it under her breath, but I’d heard it just before the stands collectively groaned. The other team had stolen the ball from Harry and scored.

“Don’t say that, I know he’s happy you’re here.” Though I didn’t, not really. I gave her a gentle squeeze, not sure how else to comfort a friendly acquaintance.

She wiped her hands down her face and when they fell in her lap, she’d shaken whatever it was that was bothering her. “You’re right. Maybe.” Then, a quizzical look took over. “Has Harry told you anything?”

I shook my head. “He just said you got in a fight. Didn’t tell me about what though.”

She took out popcorn she’d hid in her purse, sly smile saying something she wouldn’t. “He must really like you.” She still had that knowing smile when she erupted in a cheer, standing to clap with the rest of the stadium.

We’d won. Everyone’s phones lifted high in the air, recording the mania they’d all been expecting. Flashes, little bulbs of light, captured pictures of happy college students and their victorious team. The videos would be one of many posted to Instagram stories, along with those from the after parties.

A crawling feeling drew up my spine. I looked around, expecting to be the subject of somebody’s photograph. Ridiculous, because I didn’t find anybody zooming into my face. No one was watching me, I reminded myself. But still, the feeling lingered.

In the crowd, Matt stood taller than the rest. He flashed his all-American smile, jumping up and down with his other basketball friends. When he saw me staring, he waved big, but his smile faltered. He pointed to my neck before shaking his head, busting up with a laugh I realized I couldn’t hear. A laugh I didn’t know how much I’d been wanting to hear until now. Until I couldn’t. But even though I couldn’t hear him, his look said it all. His teasing voice sprang in my head - had a good night, huh? - and then my own chest bubbled with laughter. But his eyes dropped lower to my jersey and his smile fell. He looked away without meeting my gaze again, and I couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of rejection.

-----------

The dangling string lights above Karli’s bed swayed into each other until they became one blurry glow. Or maybe it was me… okay yes, it was me. I was the one swaying. From the carpet, I gripped her lavender bedspread to steady myself.

“I’m not surprised we won honestly,” she said, Cartier bracelets tinkering down her arm as if her cheering from the stands was the sole thing that made the Panthers win. In my impaired state, I fought a snicker. If the gang had seen her walking last night, one mugging would’ve given them all the money they needed.

Horrible thought.

Awful thought.

Tremendously awful horrible passing thought I wouldn’t wish on anyone-

But alas, it was still a thought.

“That makes two of us,” Viv chimed.

It was sometime past midnight, and Renny and I had already taken full advantage of the mini shots we’d packed in our purses. We broke them out as soon as the official meeting had ended.

Tonight had been “get to know what we’re really all about night.” So we’d learned more their charity Service for Sight. Apparently, sometime quite soon we’d be paired with a vision impaired student on campus as a sort of “introduction” for the bigger service work to be done later at the Blind Children’s Center in Los Angeles. For the first time since joining, I’d felt an excited flutter in my chest. The only reason I was studying Biology was to eventually become a doctor, to contribute to the world in some positive way. And now the opportunity was falling in my lap to do something that felt...good. Maybe I did need to thank Renny and - oh, God - my mother for pushing me into this.

Most of the girls dispersed to post-game parties after that - including Harry’s frat’s. I tried not to think about Harry getting drunk and beautiful girls dressed in zilch getting to see his drunk flushed cheeks and taking advantage of his flirtatious nature… pressing him up against a wall, him dipping his head low to brush his lips against their ear…

I stop my imaginative self-pity and laughed at myself. Harry? Taken advantage of by pretty girls?

For what it’s worth, I also tried not to think about how my phone had remained completely silent since the game. I’d sent him a “CONGRATULATIONS!! So proud. I have to go the DGS tonight but wish I could celebrate with you” just in case he’d been planning on seeing me. It was the nice thing to do after all. I was getting antsy for him to see the message and when we piled out of the stadium, I caught him just before he entered the field tunnel.

“Harry!!” I’d shouted. He faltered, before he matched the voice with the face. I pantomimed texting and waved my phone like a madwoman. “CHECK IT!!”

But Gemma was right behind me, and his face fell, turning on his heel just as he’d left me last. Except this time the bruise he’d given me wasn’t visible. And there were helluva lot less butterflies.

Shelby turned the first floor of the DG house to an after party of her own, but as soon as friends of friends started showing up, Karli began leading a small group of VIPS upstairs as I planned my escape. Renny hadn’t noticed, already giggling halfway up the banister with Kiki while Lynn followed, arm slung around Donna.

My hand had just opened the front door when Viv called out to me.

“Stay,” she’d said, long blonde hair tossed over a delicate shoulder. It was hard to find something malicious in her tone, especially through my buzz - but I knew another intention was hiding, somewhere, even if I couldn’t see the end game. “Come onnn,” she drawled, her voice the sweet nectar of a venus fly trap. I could hear my mom’s voice now, telling me that I was being too harsh, judging too soon…

But even if I couldn’t prove it, energy couldn’t lie. Was I smarter than a fly?

I followed her anyhow.

Sat between Donna and Renny, I was starting to think that the last Jack Daniel’s shot was a mistake when Karli slammed her hands against the carpet. It was a dull thud, but it could’ve shook the whole room the way we all went rod-still.

“You guys might actually turn out to be cool,” she confided. She burst up in a fit of giggles, but quieted herself, barely. “No, really, you’ve done a great job so far.”

“Aww.” Renny placed a hand to her chest and I wanted to smack it down. I quickly glanced at Lynn, but instead of getting a can you believe this? stare, she seemed unbothered.

“It’s easier than how we had it,” Viv said.

“Really?” I always thought they’d just strolled in, flashed a nice smile, bonded over how they had the same hairdresser and BAM. They were in.

Apparently not.

Viv looked past me to the door, and in the hushed way she spoke, made me think this wasn’t exactly what they wanted everyone to hear. Or anyone, besides the six of us. Karli and Viv looked at each other in sly excitement. With a swish of her autumn bob, Karli leant forward, hands splayed on the carpet.

“We have an assignment for each of you,”

“Uh, pass, I don’t need another one,” Lynn chortled.

Karli held out her finger, scanning us in the the most dramatic pause. “This isn’t an ordinary assignment. The first phase involves you getting a DG Pretty Please.”

Donna tried to stifle her laugh. Renny hid a smirk, but she sat silent, completely transfixed.

“The DG Pretty Please is a task, anonymously assigned to you by one of our members. Think Secret Santa, but different,” she continued.

“And some of these tasks will take longer than you think, so Kiki and I are giving you plenty of time to prepare,” Viv smiled, as though it was the most charitable thing she could have done.

“Is everyone getting a task like this?” Renny asked.

Karli scratched her eyebrow, slightly annoyed. “It doesn’t really work like that. It’s something you do if you’re asked.”

But I heard the edge to her tone. This was something you did if you were told. With the way they’d watched the door for any unsuspecting party goer, it sunk in that this wasn’t technically official. It was the part everyone knew that came with sororities and fraternities, but the part no one put on paper. If getting a secret mission was as bad as DG hazing could get, I’d consider myself lucky.

“Does Shelby know about this?” I asked, boldly. Renny shot me a glare, wordlessly asking if I was really that dumb to ask that question, to have just now decided to expose the unspoken agreement carried out wordlessly and infamously since the organization’s conception.

Karli snorted. “Shelby was the one who invented this.”

“In December, we’ll have a final pledge meeting. Prove completion of your DG Pretty Please and if you do, then that same night your big will be revealed to you.” It was the only time Viv’s smile didn’t feel too forced. She enjoyed this madness.

Renny didn’t hesitate- “I’m in!”

“But!” Viv interjected. “If you aren’t successful, you forfeit a spot in the sorority. I know you all get super busy with clubs, and parties-”

“And homework,” I mentioned.

“Oh, right. School,” Karli said, partially joking. “I know everyone likes you guys right now, but this is a serious assignment that affects your ability to be a part of this sisterhood. And you can’t tell anyone what your task is. It’s completely anonymous. If anyone else finds out, we’ll know you talked. Your challenge is void. You fail. We question your loyalty, bla, bla, bla, details. Any questions?”

“Can I get my money back?” I laughed, and the girls snickered - but I wasn’t really joking.

“Ha! No.” Viv was as much of a comic as I was. “You’ll get your tasks in a couple days.”

A chime went off, and we all looked at our phones. It was Lynn’s.

“We made the paper again!!” She did a little party dance in her lap and Donna peered at the screen. “Just got the notification,” Lynn explained.

The only college student left alive that got updates of the local paper, Lynn’s parents were published newspaper columnists. After graduating Yale and having a stint of employment in the Middle East, the couple traveled to New York and continued writing for the Times before they moved west coast and settled for the San Francisco Chronicle. ‘Major literary nerds’ was Donna’s affectionate term.

“Is it about the game? Did they include any pictures of cheer?” Viv was suddenly interested. She looked at the article, lips pinching in disappointment. There were snapshots of the different players from tonight, and I struggled to focus on the screen that was lain on the floor for all to see. But there he was, mouth open as if bellowing to his teammates, legs parted in a run. My blood ran hot. Was it stuffy in this room? Was it just this photo of Harry? Or was it just good ‘ol Jack Daniel?

I drew my hair up in a haphazard ponytail, smiling as Lynn scrolled to a picture of Louis scoring and pulling some ridiculous face in concentration. “There’s my boy!!” I hollered, pointing at the screen. “He’s just so dang good.”

Kiki’s brow rose. “Wrong jersey, love.”

Lynn suddenly snapped, snatching her phone back to recapture our attention. “Dude, I saw Louis go in the locker room with Candice yesterday after Journalism. But I don’t think…”

Karli’s auburn bob swished as she shook her head. “Oh, hell no. My mom sees Candice at church every Sunday, she probably just took his dirty laundry to take home.”

“Doesn’t that mean he’d have to strip down first,” Lynn smiled.

“Again, doubt it,” Kiki dismissed.

Viv heaved a sigh of relief. “Well thank God, I would’ve been out.”

“Out of what?” I asked. This time Renny didn’t stab me with her eyes for asking a question. This time, she was just as curious.

“You didn’t hear about the money pool?” Lynn asked.

“Uhhh… no.”

“I’m with you...” Donna said, eyes narrowing.

Lynn held up her hands. “What?! Babe, don’t look at me like that.”

“It’s a game everyone in the house is in on,” Kiki said. “Whoever’s the first to fuck in the locker room wins the money. Do you want in?”

My body temperature rose another 500 degrees just remembering being outside the locker room, whereby I continued to be consensually ruined for any future makeout that didn’t involve Harry.

Viv looked completely cool, composed. “Y/N must’ve missed one of those meetings.”

“I don’t know, I think Y/N might win if she plays. Did he give you that massive thing?” Donna’s voice was low, but not low enough.

Everyone’s eyes went to my neck. I swallowed, hard. Viv’s eyes glazed over and I didn’t miss the click of her jaw.

Can the gods come down right now and blast me away??! Why did I put my hair up!! Why!! I’d been so careful hiding it this entire night!!

If I wasn’t drunk I’d be trembling. I didn’t trust Viv, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to hate me. Seeing her eyes glaze over I almost felt guilty. Almost. Until I remembered all the snide comments, the way she belittled me in front of Harry, the way she took pride in being one step ahead...

Not this time.

I channeled my inner I don’t give a damn like the perfect mask it was, and flipped my hair over both shoulders, giving them my best ridiculous smize face that made Renny snort aloud.

“Eh, I’ll think about it. But I’ll let you win for now.”

Kiki watched the scene unfold before her with a delirious smile, respect riddling her voice. “I think you’ve just given us inspiration for your challenge.”

chappie 17

#fratboy! harry #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles #one direction #1direction #fratboy!harry #one direction imagine #harry styles preference #harry styles fluff #onedirection #harry imagine #harry one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #angst #frat boy

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whitherliliesbloom · 5 years ago

Text

An Order of Dandelions

He could never forget the scent of caramel coffee in the air, or the sight of the gentle smile that graced her expression as she waved him goodbye. It was a call for him to visit again, an urge and temptation he would never refuse.

Modern AU ✿ Illya/Alphinaud ✿ 3,464 words

"A new cafe again, young master?"

He's used to hearing that question asked to him as the scenic view of the city passes him by, his hand idly stroking a length of fur upon his lap as he answers with nothing more than a firm nod.

His chauffeur may not understand it, but Alphinaud was a firm believer of expanding your horizons, trying something new, or some variation of the saying.

He could most certainly not hurt to afford spending his money on the same few chain coffee stores near the campus or his home, and just a few years back he'd even expressed his disbelief at his twin sister's insistence on eating out at those rustic fast food joints rather than the far more trustworthy alternative of five star french cuisine. A disbelief that prompted him to visit a rustic cafe for coffee once, and ever since that first visit, he'd become a devoted convert.

He was enamored by the modest settings of cafe, the more often than not extraordinary decor that put even the fanciest of restaurants he's seen throughout his life to shame. The prices for the food and drinks were extraordinary too - extraordinarily low for quality he'd consider no different from alternatives 5 times the price.

He'd gone from curiosity of a naive rich man's son to a full fledged cafe hopping addict now.

This time, his sights were set on a quaint little cafe he's heard his classmates mentioned once in passing during their lunch time conversations. They said nothing more than the bare minimum to get him curious - that the coffee was delicious, the decorations were pretty and that the barista was apparently nice.

A purr snatches his attention, and the boy turns his head to smile down at the cat that laid belly up upon his lap.

"I shall watch over Romeo as usual, young master."

"My thanks."

Brief words of thanks are punctuated by the sound of the tires braking against the asphalt as the car stops gracefully outside of the quiet little building.

Rows of potted flowers hung just above the window that would give passerby a glimpse into the seating area within. White wooden tables and chairs neatly lined up against the wall where even more potted plants decorated the rustic white planks, green vines taking the place of the ever popular fairy lights he's seen a good number of cafes use. And though the window gave a good view of the handful of customers already seated within, and the sheer amount of plant life that shared that space, the counter is obscured from view behind the wall. He’d assume there would be a short line of people waiting for their orders to be taken.

A small sign was parked right above the window, framed by what else but a wreath of leaves and flowers of every colour of the rainbow.

The Lavender Brew

A suitable name for one so obsessed with plants, Alphinaud thought to himself. Not that it was a bad thing, of course. He hasn't even stepped foot outside the car and he's already sold on the concept.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need, young master." The bearded man in the driver’s seat finally turns to speak to him, and Alphinaud flashes a smile of gratitude in return.

"I will, Pierre. I shall return shortly."

Much to the dismay of the blonde cat that had just been resting so blissfully upon his master's lap, he's quickly scooped up and dropped onto the back seat, evidently less than pleased as it let out a low pitched meow.

Alphinaud is used to the demands of his cat however, and has no regrets with opening the car door and closing it behind him without even a second glance back.

A bell chime greets his entrance into the cafe, and he's immediately hit by the familiar scent of coffee intermingled with floral notes he was less accustomed to. He notes with a low hum that he was right about there not being too many people waiting by the counter.

A display refrigerator he hadn't been able to see from the outside stood proudly next to the counter, housing a myriad of palm sized cakes and pastries along with handwritten cards noting the name of each dessert and their respective prices.

Eye catching as the desserts were, his attention is drawn to the chalk board on the wall behind the counter, where more of the same handwriting now listed a menu of drink items with their prices. Espresso, mocha and lattes he's very much used to.. a subset list of both floral and fruit juices less so, but it further adds to the naturalistic theme this cafe seemed so adamant to follow.

His line of sight breaks upon catching a flash of white at the corner of his eye and he turns his head back down to finally look at the barista.

Long straight white hair fluttered to and fro after the girl as she rushed from one end of the station behind the counter to the other, frantically preparing the orders of the patiently waiting customers who were far more interested in whatever was being displayed on their smart phones. A pink ribbon broke the monotone of her pure white hair behind her head, and he notes to himself with a small amount of amusement that the white patterns on the ribbon were of lilies.

When the lady finally turns around to hand the customer a take away cup of their order, a timid little 'thank you so much!' breathlessly leaving her lips, Alphinaud's eyes widen slightly in surprise.

Wide violet eyes that practically glisten in the light, almost porcelain-like light skin and a button nose. The woman's sense of dress is simple, but most suited for her. Coupled with how she stood more than a foot shorter than even he and her youthful appearance, he'd garner a guess that she was no older than him, and perhaps even younger.

If this were the very same barista his classmate had been speaking about, he'd have to very much agree with their prognosis about her 'cuteness'.

Alphinaud may be rich, but he most certainly isn’t entitled. At least, he’d like to believe he isn’t, a claim so many others of his age had throw thoughtlessly his way with zero regards of his feelings. And so he has always made it a point to emulate the behavior of what his father titled ‘commoners’. From occasionally picking up groceries for himself, to the now comfortable routine of standing in line at a cafe as he takes in the sights around him.

He quickly scurries to the end of the queue and attempts to make full use of his time waiting by thinking on what he’d like to order until his train of thought was rudely disrupted by the rough rattle of the bell as the door to the cafe opened.

“Hey, lady! This isn’t what I ordered!”

A man stomps in, pushing past the first customer in front of the counter to slam his disposable coffee cup onto the table. It barely makes a sound, but the anger in his voice is enough to contort the barista’s expression into one of unbridled fear.

“U-um-- W-What was it that you ordered again, sir?”

“I ordered a goddamn Americano, not Macchiato, idiot!”

There isn’t a single pair of eyes in the cafe that wasn’t directed towards the bellowing man now. Though the gazes of the patrons within the cafe had ranged from mild curiosity to annoyance, the trembling barista behind the counter had been left alone with a wavering stare of terror.

“I-I’m so sorry! I’ll prepare a Macchiato for you right away, sir!”

“I ain’t got time to wait for you to make another shitty cup of your brew! You’ve already wasted enough of my time making me come back here to tell you this!”

Hushed whispers passed among the handful of customers that had been waiting in line, presumably badmouthing the audacity of the man to quite literally scream in the face of a woman who seemed about ready to fall to the floor. Inaction and idle gossip however, has never quite been Alphinaud’s style; it was never the Leveilleur style.

“There must certainly be a better way to express your dissatisfaction than to yell at a lady like that.” The boy’s words pierces through the air, and the man directs his narrowed glare towards him.

“What’s that gotta do with you, kid?! Stay out of it!”

“You’re making a scene, sir. You claim that she wasted your time, and yet are you not wasting the time of everybody waiting in line yourself?” Unwavered, Alphinaud folds his arms across his chest. “I’m certain the police would say the same if we were to call them here.”

The threat certainly seemed to get through to the man at least. His eyes almost spitting fire out at the insolent teen who seemed to have no intentions of backing off. The boy’s well dressed, probably well to do.. if he were to lay a hand on him, then surely no good would come of it.

Finally stepping back, the man hurriedly leaves the cafe, though not without leaving a final signal of his ire by slamming the door. The sound of the door smashing shut, and the echoes of the bell as it noisily chimed for the next several seconds was enough to cause the poor barista to jump in her skin.

“Don’t let jerks like him get to you.” one of the customers, a woman with a freckled face and curly brunette hair waved her hand to catch the young woman’s attention. “He probably won’t ever come back, anyway.”

The sentiment seemed to be shared by the other customers, who were quick to turn their attention back to their own business after sparing a final sympathetic glance at the woman behind the counter.

Alphinaud hadn’t expected anything out of the incident, really. Such actions was only natural, or at least something that should be expected out of the future heir of a corporation. He could not hope to lead others if he did not have the courage to stand up for what he believed to be right, or at the very least defend those with a lesser voice than he.

It was but a small unpleasant blight during an otherwise uneventful day.

“U-um... Thank you so much...”

It wasn’t until the other customers before him had been served and the line in front of the counter had dispersed that he heard her voice directed towards him. It was almost like a whisper, a single light chime in the wind. The girl’s hands clasped together in front of her chest as she stared up at Alphinaud with glossy violet eyes.

The sincerity in her words caught him unaware at first, but he was quick to shake his head and flash her a smile as a return.

“You needn’t thank me. I just did what was right.”

“B-but...” the girl stutters, fingers now fidgeting restlessly as her eyes darts to the planks of wood beneath her feet. “You...you protected me.. from that man and...”

Protected certainly is an unexpectedly huge word to be using for something so trivial, but Alphinaud could only imagine what such a valiant act would appear to be in the eyes of a woman who seemed barely capable of keeping eye contact with others.

“And I am certain many others would have done the same if they had the chance, miss.”

The girl averts her gaze, hands falling apart to allow one to brush strands of white over her ear. There’s no one behind him in line, but she still makes an attempt to recall her professionalism all the same.

“W-well,” she begins, her voice almost a whisper for a moment, before it becomes louder. ��What would you like to order, sir?”

Alphinaud leans back slightly on one heel as he considers, glancing briefly at the blackboard menu decorated with small chalk drawings of flowers and leaves.

“How about you surprise me?” he asks pleasantly with a smile. He catches sight of her name tag as he looks back to her. Illya. “And call me ‘Alphinaud’, please.”

A light dusting of pink rises to the girl’s cheeks as she shuffles her feet nervously, still not quite looking at him. Pale pink lips tremble as she attempts to choke out his name as requested.

“Y-yes...S-si-.. Alphinaud.” Somehow, something twinges lightly in his chest as he hears her say his name. Perhaps the floral scent of the cafe is getting to him. “My name is...Illya.”

Her expression turns into one of consideration as she turns away from him slowly. He doesn’t think to tell her he’s already seen her name.

The light hiss of steaming milk fills the air as Illya begins preparing him her brew, evidently having decided upon something. Her movement is swift, evidently familiar with her station as she mixes a concoction of what he can tell to contain milk and some powder together. A minute later, she brings him the cup, lightly settles it upon the counter, and names the price.

“Ah...I sh-should have told you earlier...I’m sorry -- “

“No, no, it’s quite all right, nothing to worry about,” he reassures her, already pulling out his card to pay. The payment terminal makes a light beep as he taps it. He spares her another smile as he folds his wallet away. “What is it?”

“A-a...caramel latte.”

Oh -- he’s never had one of those. But he did ask her to surprise him, and she certainly did. He picks up the steaming cup and takes a sip.

It’s -- sweet. Almost cloyingly so.

Somehow, he manages to keep a grimace from rising to his features. Alphinaud has never been a big fan of overly sugary drinks. He’s used to the dark and bitter richness of his usual orders, but telling her he’s not fond of it, especially after what had happened earlier felt a tad cruel.

His panic spikes when she, hesitantly, asks him how it is, and he has to pray that he’s managed to remain composed.

“It’s...good.” Relief washes over him like a tidal wave as he sees her pretty violet eyes light up. “It’s certainly surprising! I’ve never had one of these before.”

“I’m so glad.” The sheer sincerity behind her words is near enough to take his breath away, though why, he’s not entirely sure.

“I-Illya,” he stammers a moment, internally cursing himself, as he nurses his cup and takes another small sip. “How did you come to own such a quaint cafe?” Ordinarily, he wouldn’t attempt to make such conversation, but it doesn’t feel right to simply leave, and there’s nobody else waiting either way.

“Oh...” Illya trails off, her gaze averting yet again. “I-it’s -- it used to be my parents’. My mother put me in charge of the cafe after I graduated high school.. A-And since I’ve always liked flowers, I t-turned it into a florist shop as well...”

One pale eyebrow quirking in surprise, Alphinaud turns slightly to glance at one of the many displays of flowers and plants festooning the establishment. Now that she mentions it, he can indeed see that some of them have price tags attached.

From an assortment of potted cactus plants and flower, to smaller trinkets that he assumes to be mini terrariums.. it’s plain to see much love and care was put into the array of plants that was put on sale.

“What a wonderful idea! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cafe quite like this before. I think it’s very unique.”

Dusts of red returns to the white-haired girl’s cheeks full-force, though this time a smile accompanies it.

“I’m...glad to hear that. I-it’s not that great though.”

Silence passes between them as the young man takes another sip of his drink. For some reason, he wants to say something else. Illya looks unoccupied, perhaps a little out of sorts, as she stands at the counter. The other shop patrons are sitting at their tables, some engaged in conversation, others nose-deep in their phones.

It wasn’t that he was exceptionally chatty. But something about the girl compels him to want to take an extra effort at conversation, somehow.

Come to think of it, Illya looks about his age, doesn’t she...? Does she man the cafe the entire day...?

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asks her suddenly. She startles, eyes wide as she looks up at him from beneath her fringe of pale hair.

“U-um...I’m...twenty...”

Ah, so only a few months older than he is.

“Is that so? I turn twenty in about another 6 months myself.” he offers, since it’s only polite. “Are you...” There’s a brief pause as he rethinks his words. “In school?”

Whilst it’s common to begin university or college at the age of nineteen or eighteen..he’d rather not fluster or embarrass her if perhaps she’d started late...or had any difficulty...that’s simply not his style. And she’s already nervous enough.

“I...If you mean college... I never went.” Her gaze is downcast, shoulders tense in something that might well be shame. “I...my parents...we didn’t have enough...”

The hitch in her voice was almost enough to cause his heart to ache, and he can already hear a nagging voice in his conscious chiding him for being so foolish as to bring up such a sensitive topic.

“Oh. I see.” She doesn’t need to continue for him to understand. The taste on his tongue is sour, and he takes a mouthful of latte to soothe it. “I’m sorry.”

“I-it’s okay!” Illya quickly waves a hand to placate him. “I’m...I’m happy here. I-it’s all right.” For a moment, Alphinaud has the sinking feeling she’s trying to justify herself to him. But then --

“I’m happy that I get to carry on my parents’ hard work.”

The sincerity in her voice and expression is nearly enough to floor him, and he can’t believe he had been so self-centered and patronizing as to assume she might be...ashamed of working at a small little cafe filled with flowers. That soft, gentle smile --

He has to swallow around the strange lump in his throat.

“It’s certainly very admirable. I’m...glad I got to meet you here, Illya.”

He’s glad he wandered into this quaint little shop of warm drinks and pastries and flowers. He’s glad -- to have defended her, to have allowed her to send his preconceived notions and beliefs flying with those tiny hands of hers, for the warmth rising in his chest like a steaming coffee.

Illya’s violet eyes dart up to meet his, shocked. Before she can say anything else, there’s a light ring at the door as someone else enters the shop. Clearing his throat, Alphinaud gives the white-haired girl a nod and a smile.

“Thank you for your time today, Illya. And thank you for the...latte.”

He hesitates a single moment, and the girl is too flustered to say anything. There was a moment of silence between the pair as he waits, hoping for a response. He could not help the hint of disappointment he felt as he watched Illya avert his gaze, a hand moving up to comb strands of silky hair back behind her ear.

“Goodbye.”

Alphinaud turns, and just as he was about to fully step out the door he’d opened however, he hears her squeak out a question.

“W-Will you be coming back someday, Alphinaud?”

Like a javelin through his chest, he nearly stumbles from the skipping of his heart beat. Color rises up his face, almost dark enough to match the red of the roses that stood proudly among the display the shelves.

“Of course.”

Alphinaud dares to cast a final glance back, and immediately regrets his decision when she sees the bright smile that graced Illya’s face. Her hand raised, waving sheepishly at him.

He finally steps outside, but not even a gulp of fresh air was enough to steady the racing of his heart, nor did the impatient meows of Romeo who had peeked his head out the opened car window. The cup in his hand still feels warm, and yet it paled in comparison to the heat that filled his head.

Alphinaud raises the beverage up to his chapped lips, gulping in the last of the brew that tingled his taste buds and lets out a low hum at the tender sweetness. He feels immense regret at the fact that his cup was now empty, but that was simply all the more reason to pay The Lavender Brew a second visit.

He may well just have found his new favorite drink.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #alphinaud leveilleur #illya skawi #we've come so far #fanfic #alphinaud #modern au #mine #THANK YOU TO LAURELISMUN FOR HELPING ME WITH A GOOD PORTION OF THIS FIC #WRITER'S BLOCK IS AWFUL YO #especially when you're like studying for exams difnioffasdaiod #this has been rotting in my drafts for several weeks #glad to finally be rid of this garbage #other verses

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uncultureddirt · 5 years ago

Text

Day Zero (Part 4/4) - Park Jisung (Post Apoc!AU)

~REQUESTED~

“It’s cold without you here”

Warnings: Language, angst, violence

It was quiet when you woke up. It always was. Your cot was beneath the only window in the room, which allowed the sun to reach you the moment it began to emerge. Your eyes would slowly open and you’d stare at the ceiling, noting every crack in the old grey paint. Some mornings you’d wake up confused, forgetting where you were, wondering why Jisung wasn’t next to you, breathing too loudly, and holding you tightly. You just couldn’t get used to the empty space beside you.

“Good morning y/n,” your glum mood was interrupted by Rosalee. She was an older woman, probably somewhere in her mid-sixties. She was the head director of the center you resided in. Rosalee was a kind woman; her heart was warm and inviting. When she spoke her voice was smooth and gentle, like drizzling honey. She welcomed you in and tended to you as you needed it. You always appreciated everything she did for you, but you were unable to express your gratitude the way you wanted. Your sadness was overpowering, and you could only muster up the strength to respond with few words.

She sat on the edge of your bed wrapped up in a faded pink cable-knit sweater. She was a tough woman, despite her soft and delicate appearance. Rosalee had escaped the claws of Tartix at the beginning of Day Zero, losing her only two daughters during her time spent there. Once she was on her own, she founded a center for children who were alone or lost during apocalyptic times. There were a couple of branches scattered relatively close, the main facility being about two hours away on foot. The branch you were in was a small low profile building, but it was under intense security, ensuring the safety of its inhabitants.

“Some of the girls are cooking breakfast if you want to help.” She smiled and got up. She never expected anything in return from her kindness. She was one of those genuine people who need not receive a ‘thank you’ for their charitable actions. You watched her small frame move into the front room and thought about her offer. After deciding you would join them in the kitchen, you lifted yourself out of bed and pulled up the blanket, fixing it nicely.

Walking through the large room quietly, you were cautious not to disturb any of the younger kids who were still asleep. You were wearing one of Jisungs big flannels. When you first arrived Rosalee urged you to throw it out as it was covered in ash and blood. However, after seeing your emotional attachment to the old flannel she washed it and returned it to you.

“I hope he finds you.” She had said when handing over the freshly cleaned shirt.

You walked into the kitchen to find two of the girls around your age working. Both of them were nice, and even though you kept to yourself most of the time, you liked them. One girl, the freckled one with long red hair heard you enter and looked up.

“Y/n, hey!” said Emi.

“Hi,” you smiled lightly. Everyone at the facility understood that trauma caused by the apocalypse varied from person to person, so they never held your quiet manner against you.

You sat at the counter and began to talk, “You guys need any help?”

“No, we’re just about done. Thanks though,” the taller girl with her head shaved, Zola, replied.

You looked down and let the sound of oil popping in the pans fill your ears. The girls began talking again, occasionally asking you questions and bringing you into the conversation. It was hard to occupy yourself when your mind was stuck on him. Each passing day reminded you how alone you felt. What hurt most was the lack of closure. You didn’t even know if he was still alive. You clutched the edges of his flannel as you thought. The sadness would hit you randomly, and apparently, it decided to strike then and there.

“Y/n, you okay?” Zola sat next to you, “How long has it been today?”

“Almost two years,” you paused and rested your chin on your hand, “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“No, come on, don’t say that. He loves you and he is out there. Fate will slowly bring you two back together. Okay? Trust me. He is looking for you.”

You soon felt sorry. Zola and Emi had both went through their own set of trauma. They lost their families and had endured their own pain. They were always kind to you, even when you could not look them in the eyes to say hello. You felt embarrassed, how could you be so weak when everyone else seemed so strong? You held your breath as you felt yourself begin to cry. Reaching out her arms, Zola hugged you. Within seconds Emi came over from the sink to hug you as well.

“Thank you,” you cried, and you meant it.

Jisung breathed heavily as he ducked his head under the dense shrubbery.

“Which way’d you see him go?” a voice called out.

“I thought he came over here,” another replied.

He clutched his gun and the cans of food he had just stolen, closing his eyes to internally beg to no one in particular.

‘Pass. Walk past me. Pass.’

His heart was beating loudly, though not out of anxiety. He wasn’t scared anymore; he was tired. This was routine for Jisung. Today, he timed his mission poorly. Right as he was escaping from a window, arms full of goods, the family whose home he had ransacked returned home. Jisung was forced to sprint. He would never let himself get close to the arms of The Reaper. His will to survive was depended on one thing, and that was you.

“No, let’s try back over there,” the first voice called back.

Jisung exhaled deeply. Relief. They were moving away. After waiting a couple of moments, he emerged from the greenery. In the past two years, things had changed, even if only a bit. He was slightly taller and his shoulders broader. His hair was longer now, almost covering his eyes, though still black against his tanned skin. Beneath his changed physical appearance, he remained the same at heart. The biggest change was that he had a new best friend. Thievery.

Thievery slightly hardened Jisung. He knew it did. It made him selfish, forcing him to dehumanize those he was taking from. He wanted to survive. He needed to. And if stealing was the only way, he had to do it.

He began to walk to what he deemed as, ‘his base’. It was a small clearing beneath a useless bridge where he stashed his items. It was hardly a ‘home’, so he wouldn’t refer to it as such. He rarely slept there anyway. Conditions under an old bridge are commonly dark, damp, and musty, and his bridge was no exception. Usually, he’d crash wherever he found himself tired. As long as he picked a spot where he was hidden from a passerby’s view, he’d sleep in abandoned buildings, under trees, old cars...

But he refused to make a ‘home’ out of his ‘sleep spots’. They didn’t feel like ‘home’ without you.

On his way over he felt his foot kick something hard. Jisung looked down to find a tiny handheld radio. It was coated in dirt, and most likely broken. Regardless, Jisung took it. During an apocalypse, kleptomania is arguably justified. When you have nothing, you’ll take anything that might help you survive.

He placed his new items in his collection and then sat down next to one of the piles. Leaning his head back, he placed a hand on his upper thigh. After digging out the bullet with a pocket knife, the skin never healed correctly. He was left with a mangled scar, and it ached when he aggravated his leg muscle excessively. A scar. A collection of recovered skin, sprinkled with tiny nerve endings desperately trying to hide a wound. Jisung’s body was covered in scars. From the thick one on his thigh to the tiny ones etched over his hands and chest, and to the deep one that severed his heart.

Opening his eyes, he decided to check out the radio, dusting off the film of dirt. He flipped it over and examined the back.

“No batteries. Nice.” he rolled his eyes and looked around his stash. He scanned the shelves and piles until he found what he was looking for.

Unscrewing the bottom of a flashlight, he shook out two D batteries.

After reinserting the batteries into the radio, he began fumbling with the buttons. He jumped slightly at the static sound which pierced through the silence of his base, reverberating off the walls. As he flipped through the stations, he silently wondered whose hands touched the dials before his own. ‘Where are they now?’ Oh, and he wished for the painful white noise to subside.

“Y/n.” You were awoken to the sound of a soft whisper. Rosalee looked down at you with her kind eyes. She was wearing a backpack and a baseball cap. You noticed the tiny pieces of silver that poked out the sides of the hat, framing her face gently. She began speaking, quietly though, being cautious not to wake anyone else up, “I’m leaving for a couple days. I guess there’s an issue up at the main facility.”

“An issue at the main facility?” You sat up and rubbed your eyes, slowly comprehending her words.

“Yes. There was an external security violation,” she paused noticing you grow tense, “It’s nothing to worry about. The trespasser is non-threatening. I’m just being called over to direct what we should do with them. While I’m gone, tend to my hydrangeas please.”

“Hydrangeas? Like the flower?” You were confused, why were said plants being prioritized? If they were so important, why hadn’t you heard about them before? You waited for her to change your orders you to a more serious, grueling task, but she left it at that. Her hydrangeas.

“Yes, they’re in my office. They get very thirsty, so I’ll need you to water them and make sure they get sunlight, it can get dark in there sometimes.”

You nodded.

“Okay,” she smiled and began to walk away, “I will see you soon.”

After she exited, you laid in your bed and sifted through the information she gave you. You were staring at the ceiling as you had countless times before, but this time your mind wasn't concerned with the cracks or the old grey paint.

‘What the hell is the deal with the damn flowers?’

Later that day you found yourself sitting outside. Your gaze glided across the metal fence which stood tall, closing you in. It seemed odd to know that you were grounded to one side of the fence and do nothing about it. Sure, the wall of metal surrounding you was there for your safety, to keep the rest of the world on the outside. But it felt funny. The same fence lies around the Tartix base to keep the inside world in.

Leaning back slightly, you rested your back against the building. It felt cool on your skin. You closed your eyes, feeling the wind brushing against you and listened to the sound of peace. The lull of serenity.

“Oh shoot,” you exclaimed, disrupting the silence, “The flowers.” Quickly rising, you made your way inside.

The walls in the narrow hallway to Rosalee’s office were painted a shy shade of blue, appearing almost white in the faint daylight. The window at the far end of the hall was the only source of light, and if you had arrived any later you would have struggled to find your way. You soon found yourself in front of what you knew to be her office, though you’d never been inside.

“Woah. Hello Hydrangeas,” you mumbled as you assessed the room around you.

The office was small and dim. A wood table sat in the middle, paired with a chair home to a faded pink cushion. The table was stacked high with books, photographs, and papers. Turning to the wall on your left, you located a large window next to a tall bookcase. You wouldn’t have known it was a window hadn’t you moved the sheets. They were pinned up with tacks, concealing the window completely. And right in front of the window was a large light, hung over a tiny table of lively flowers.

“So this is how they get their light, huh?” you spoke aloud to yourself.

Crouching down, you observed the plants. There were four pots, each with a large bulbous plant, one pink, one white, and two sister shades of both purple and blue. In a world often depleted of color and life, seeing such vibrant colors was almost supernatural. You tilted your head as you admired them, falling in complete awe. After shaking yourself out of your wonder-struck trance, you noticed a tiny note taped to the light.

‘INSTRUCTIONS FOR MY GARDEN’

You smiled at the word ‘garden’. The table of four plants was humble, but Rosalee cared about it. It was a patch of life in a meadow of chaos. It was her garden.

“Be… days.”

“Huh?” Jisung quickly awoke.

Like a pair of sharp scissors slicing a clean line in a fresh piece of paper, the sound of static tore through his silent morning, waking Jisung up. Digging in his coat pocket, he pulled out the tiny radio he had recently claimed as his own. He stared at it, waiting for it to speak once more.

“Hello? You there?” The voice was that of a woman. Her sentence came through clearer this time. He could make out words and hear her tone. Something about her smooth voice alleviated his restless soul.

“He… oh?” Static again. Once a couple of minutes went by, he sighed and put the radio back into his pocket. He was still tired, and it was still early; he was going to go back to sleep.

“Yes. Yes. I’m here.” It was a man's voice this time.

Jisung jolted up and pulled the radio back out, staring at it. Why was he so eager to hear someone’s voice? Why was it so… comforting? Maybe it was the voice. Maybe it was how the silence was finally gone. Or maybe it was the reminder he wasn’t alone.

“Okay. Did you get that? I’ll… an issue at…” Jisung cringed each time the static broke in, interrupting the flow of the conversation. “I left food in the cellar. Enough for… Send one of the boys over when you’re low…”

‘Food.’ Jisung smiled excitedly. ‘Food.’

“How long?”

“A couple days. I’ll keep in touch. Over.”

“Over.”

Static.

He sat for a while, pushing the buttons on the faded black device. He longed for the sound of a voice, any voice. Loneliness swarmed him like summer gnats. Even when he tried to swat it away, it returned and lingered, hitting him in different places, driving him nuts. He longed for company, for your company.

“Hello?” It was the man's voice again, “Hello?”

Jisung closed his eyes and began listening again. ‘It’s like TV,’ he thought to himself, smiling lightly.

“Hello? I need to send someone over later for…”

“Yes?” The soothing voice returned.

“Where should I send them?”

Jisung sat up and opened his eyes. These woods were vast, but he knew them well. He pushed his hand through his hair, listening as the women drew out a road map, pointing to where her base was.

“...and have them end near full rock circle…”

“Full rock circle. I can get there,” he whispered, almost like he was replying.

Food. Base.

Jisung put the radio down and stood up. He had fallen asleep in a van he often slept in because of the close distance to his ‘stash’. He then began to move, being wary of his surroundings.

Something was stirring in Jisung. Some hate that had boiled over his time in solitude. He had lost everything; all he had had been taken and pried from his grasp. Every waking moment reiterated the pain of his existence. What he owned remained hidden in a crack of cement. It was sad. He felt pathetic.

In moments like those, he found refuge in his only pastime. The only thing that could help him escape the depreciating feeling. Thievery.

Jisung wanted to steal.

He felt like he had to.

It had been three days since you saw Rosalee and three days that you been caring for her tiny garden.

You were sitting at her desk, letting your body sink into her soft pink chair. Your eyes danced over the papers, book covers, and photographs. The photos in the stack at the edge of her table were faded slightly and folded at the edges, almost as if they were frequently shuffled through.

Lifting the stack, you began to flip through them. The first image depicted a tiny girl standing in front of a building. Her arms were positioned outwards, spread wide, like she was showing off the cozy-looking house and rectangular plot of soil behind her. You tilted your head, flipping to the next photo. It was the same girl, only this time taller, her hair now reaching her elbows. She stood in the same spot, smiling again, the patch of dirt now full of green sprouts. You continued to flip through the photos; most of them were of two girls, one being the girl in the first two pictures, and what you recognized to be Rosalee. Assuming they were her daughters you began to imagine Rosalee as a mother until you were met with the last photo. The unfamiliar girl was older now. Her smile was still warm, and it visibly resembled Rosalee’s. She was not accompanied by dirt, nor by stems with small buds hanging off the edge. Instead, there was a crowd of violet, blue, white, pink and every color in between.

“Hydrangeas,” you whispered.

You grabbed the first photo from the stack and placed it beside the last one. Studying the girl, you noticed how she aged slightly, though her smile remained just as lovely and radiant as it had been before. You lifted the photos up and brought them towards the window, so you could see them in the light. As you gently moved the image, and the light penetrated the picture, you noticed something scribbled on the undersides of each.

Flipping over the first one, you read the words under your breath.

‘Mommy and I planted today. I want the flowers to bloom now. She says I have to wait for it to be pretty and that good things take time. I don’t get what that means. Also, I don't like the dirt, it's not pretty. Mommy said our flowers will be pretty. She said this is our garden.’

It was written in childish print, words were misspelled and letters looped messily. For some reason, there was a lump in your throat. Slowly, you turned over the next photo and began to read again.

‘Look at our garden!!!!!! It's so pretty. Mommy is right. Good things do take time. The pink one is my favorite, Mommy says she agrees.’ You stopped reading the swirly childish print and flipped back over the photo. Grazing your finger over the tiny girls face, tears welled up in your eyes.

“Both of my daughters were taken,” you remembered Rosalee’s words pouring out from her like blood dripping from a wound. You remembered the pain in her face as she spoke and the way her voice became choppy.

The first tear slipped down your face as you stared at the girl whose heart was so happy and smile was so warm. Suddenly, you couldn’t hold back your emotions. You dropped down in front of the flowers and cried. You cried for Rosalee’s daughters and the golden future they’d never see. You cried for their garden, which had been reduced to four pots in a dark room. You cried that the evil arms of Tartix stole a mother’s beloved children. You cried that good things take time. You cried hard for your world. You clutched the photographs to your chest tightly, your vision clogging with tears.

This garden was not for Rosalee. It was for the girl who was promised a garden, a garden full of love and rich in color.

It was all planned out. Calculated cleanly. Organized perfectly. Jisung knew how to go about the task. He was ready to steal.

As the sky turned black, Jisung found himself stationed near the high metal fence. He felt like a creature, a beast prepared to stalk his prey. Though being conditioned to steal, there was a deep pang of worry and guilt within him. He wasn’t nervous. He was upset. Upset that Day Zero had degraded him to such filth. Once running through the plan a few more times, he decided it was time.

He climbed his way over the fence, taking out a pair of cutting pliers to cut the jagged barbed wire on top. Jisung then jumped down, landing skillfully on the balls of his feet. The dirt lightly thudded beneath him, but not loud enough to draw any attention towards the intruder.

Entering a field he wasn’t familiar with always got his adrenaline pumping. It made his thoughts race.

‘You’re the odd man out; you’re the reason the fence lay high and security holds weapons. You’re the glint in the shadows and the gentle rustle of leaves. It’s your footprint stamped in the wet dirt and it’s your fault there’s empty space where items belong. You’re a thief.’

He made his way towards the building, staying pinched to any available walls. He moved through the night swiftly, a master at traveling in the darkness.

‘Shit.’ his brain yelled loudly. Jisung stopped his movements. A figure was sitting near the building. ‘What the fuck is someone doing outside right now?’

Jisung moved his hand into his pocket, wrapping his hand around a metal grip. Not to fire. Only to scare.

He moved towards the silhouette, silencing his breath, absorbing his presence into the night. A fraction of a second later, he grabbed the person’s neck, placing the gun against their throat.

They became you, and you began to scream.

‘Fuck.’

The barrel was cold against your neck. Your mind began to race, and you did the one thing you could think to do.

Scream.

You yelled out for help repeatedly, kicking violently and squirming aggressively.

The air getting to you was limited. The person's arm tightened as he pressed the gun deeper into your neck. Right as you thought you would stop breathing completely, they released you, your body falling sideways. You were coughing wildly as the world around you spun.

“Y/n?” the voice was shaking and quiet. It was barely a whisper, but you heard it as clear as day. The hair on your neck stood up as your heart took off, catching up to the panting of your breath.

‘No. I’m imagining things. I must be.’

You couldn't turn around; there was something holding you back from turning around. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t real; it wasn’t him. While you tried to rationalize your thoughts and regain your balance, you heard yelling, and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

“23! He has a number! Shoot! Now!”

‘23… 23. 23. 23. 23. 23. 23. 23. 23.’

Your body began to tremble as your mind flashed through memories. You saw him coming towards you at the door, hiding his own fear behind a rifle. You saw him holding you under the cold sky, wiping your tears. You saw him kissing you for the first time, setting fire to every part of your tired heart. You saw him promising you he’d be okay and promising you he’d come back. You heard him tell you he loved you. You began to cry and call out his name. You got up quickly, running sloppily over to the unit of guards holding guns to him.

“DON’T SHOOT!”

“Y/n stay back! He’s dangerous!”

“NO! NO! NO! JISUNG! IT’S ME! I’M HERE!” Your lungs were ablaze and your eyes were soaked. You saw him lying there on the ground, helplessly fighting for his life. The guards wouldn’t shoot with you nearby. They couldn’t.

“Y/n? Y/N?” He began resisting with an increased amount of strength. His neck vein bulging as he kicked his legs tirelessly.

Forcing your way through the wall of tall men, you thrust yourself on top of him.

“Get off of him! Immediately!” guard commanded.

They were shouting, but you didn’t hear it. The loudness of the world had smudged and blurred behind you. All you could see was his face, coated in dirt and streaked with tears.

“Holy shit. You’re here.” he breathed up at you.

“Holy shit. You almost killed me.”

You two stood up together and held each other defensively. All the guards backed away, seeing by your interactions he wasn’t a threat. You held on to Jisung tightly, keeping your face tucked into his chest. You were crying more, being hugged by him, and silently prayed that you weren’t dreaming.

He stroked your hair as complete disorder and confusion unfolded around you. Kids began pouring outside, waking up to the sound of the danger alarm. Security guards stood confused, dropping their guns to their sides. Jisung kissed your head over and over again.

You looked up at him and whispered, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” he replied. He stared down at your face and spoke softly, “God, I missed you.” He then placed a hand on your cheek and leaned down, kissing you deeply.

There was something unfathomable about the experience. Something you couldn’t explain. You felt as if you were floating over your body, watching yourself rediscover your heart. You watched as your body warmed and your mind cooled. You watched the horizon as you stood on top of the hill, tired from pushing the boulder. You watched a vibrant garden full of light grew around you. You watched it all come together because he was there.

As you slowly pulled away a picture flashed in your mind. A colorful picture with misspelled words that messily danced.

Looking up at Jisung, you saw the warm colors around him.

He wiped your tears as you smiled at him. You couldn’t wait to thank your friends for being patient with you and tell Rosalee how much you’ve truly appreciated everything she’s done.

Things were going to be okay.

‘Good things take time.’

And they did. They always do.

Concluded!

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