#(work has entered the busy season and where I write during the slow moments of my shift there have been no slow moments

[chilly-me-softly]

Hi I’m the anon that requested the angsty fic, I loved it so much, thank you 🥺. Do you think we could get a part 2 🙈 I love your writing!

Part 1

Of course you can have a part 2! Hope you like this one as well x

Ben had sat down on the couch to wait for Mason who had told him on the phone that he would be right over, and was surprised when he opened the door with his keys. The worry was clear in his eyes but Ben had almost stopped him from walking over as you were asleep. Mason had made him explain a little about what had happened and he had tried to slow down the inevitable. He didn't want to leave but before his friend started asking, or worse walked him to the door himself, he'd have to get his ass out of there.

He hadn't heard from you since that day, during a training session he'd asked Mason casually how you were feeling but after that nothing. Nothing had been arranged for days and he didn't know how to approach you to make sure with his own eyes that you were alright. You were so sick that day, he was used to you standing up to him and seeing you like this had really triggered something in him. He had your number but he'd never used it, you'd never had a private conversation but he used to tease you in group chat.

He's at home with his phone in his hand lying on the sofa pondering whether he should finally press that icon and type a simple text, when the doorbell rings. And when he opens the door he is pleasantly surprised.

"(Y/N), hi"

"Ben! Hi, sorry to just show up at your house like this" you smile as he does the same.

"Oh no problem, come in" he steps over to allow you in as you think about it for a few seconds before entering and as he closes the door he takes the opportunity to pinch himself. The pain that follows makes him realise that this isn't a dream, you really are in his house.

"Um I just brought you... this" you hold out a plate covered in tinfoil towards him and your hands touch as he accepts that plate with confusion.

"To what do I owe all this?"

"You know I might have been poorly but I remember what you did for me the other night and...I just wanted to say thank you"

"Oh you didn't have to, you were struggling it was just fair. But thank you" Ben looks at you smiling, your cheeks are slightly pink and you keep biting your lip and it's best to take the wrapper off that plate before he says something humiliating himself.

"I made it" you care to add in a soft voice when a cake appears before his eyes, him realising you're still standing in front of the door and urging you towards the kitchen in the process.

"Really?" he asks and just the thought that you might have spent time doing something like this just for him makes him feel weird inside.

You nod, "Yeah, it's something I do a lot actually. It's the only thing Mason treats himself with off the diet during the season" you state hanging your bag on the chair and turning to face him who meanwhile is keeping himself busy by grabbing a knife and keeping that sense of annoyance at bay that he doesn't know where it's coming from.

"Well let's try it then"

"What are you doing?" you ask when you see him place a slice in front of you.

"Are you trying to make me eat alone? How rude. Unless..." he asks squinting his eyes looking at you thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Unless you put something in it" his tone makes you laugh as you shake your head. "I didn't put anything in there that I wouldn't make Mason eat too"

"That's what a killer would say to get the other one to eat" but he watches as you make a piece of your slice bringing it to your lips, chewing and wiping your fingers shrugging.

"Okay you convinced me" Ben bites into his slice moaning soon after and closing his eyes appreciating your work, missing your smile seeing the scene. "Oh my god this is so good"

"Thanks" you murmur slightly embarrassed as he takes another bite and more or less does the same thing as before.

"How are you now?" Ben walks around the counter to sit next to you, "I mean I can see you're well but I don't think I understand what happened?"

You sigh, "It was just a headache"

"Yeah but you almost fainted..."

"You know I almost prefer you when you go against me" you smile slightly and he lowers his gaze for a moment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to push you if you didn't want to tell me"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I'm not used to seeing this side of you that's all" you care to clarify making him smile almost bitterly.

"I've been a bit harsh haven't I?"

"Nah deep down I just enjoy standing up to you" your eyes meet and Ben can't really tell if he's thinking about something or if his mind is completely blank at that moment. Until he seems to come back to himself, as if he's been underwater and has suddenly started breathing again. And he's about to open his mouth but you beat him to it.

"I should go"

"Oh yeah okay" he tries not to let his disappointment show, standing up and watching you do the same.

"My mum is expecting me for dinner" you put your bag over your shoulder and you don't know why you feel the need to justify yourself.

"Oh yeah don't worry about it. Thanks... thanks again for the dessert"

"Thanks to you for saving me" you smile before walking over to him and pulling him into a quick hug, Ben doesn't even have time to acknowledge it that you're already gone.

And that night before he goes to sleep he finds the courage to press that button and send you a message and thus begin your private conversation.

Part 3

#thank you anon #ben chilwell #ben chilwell blurb

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end. 

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late. 

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight. 

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse. 

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual. 

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message. 

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband. 

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left. 

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son. 

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd. 

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them. 

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up. 

-Your spidey senses were tingling. 

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen. 

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared. 

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head. 

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain. 

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath. 

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence. 

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!” 

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest. 

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you. 

-  “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.” 

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him. 

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him. 

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point. 

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs. 

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars. 

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down. 

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again. 

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm. 

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep. 

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh. 

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.” 

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little. 

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication. 

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate. 

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic. 

-He was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this. 

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all. 

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac. 

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’ 

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar. 

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out. 

-Why hadn’t you closed it? 

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over. 

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere. 

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her. 

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom. 

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou. 

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.” 

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family. 

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk. 

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room. 

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries. 

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house. 

- “I wish I could beat their ass.” 

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.” 

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.” 

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you. 

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.  

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears. 

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that. 

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.” 

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap. 

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop. 

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher. 

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son. 

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning. 

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk. 

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday. 

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago. 

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine. 

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight. 

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight. 

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up. 

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him. 

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home. 

-He could never hate him. 

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state. 

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you. 

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags. 

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved. 

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio. 

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.” 

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard. 

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you. 

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger. 

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter. 

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone. 

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes. 

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed. 

-You felt him more than saw him. 

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle. 

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two. 

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob. 

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two. 

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not. 

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.” 

-  “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.” 

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt. 

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed. 

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786​  @meena-in-a-nutshell​

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota x y/n #dad aizawa #aizawa shota #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x you #shinsou hitoshi x y/n #dad shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #dad bakugou #bakugou katsuki #domestic aizawa #domestic shinsou #domestic bakugou #bnha #bnha x you #bnha x reader

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Return Home Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The date begins in a conference room, where a meeting has been going on for almost three hours

When LFG invested in an online video platform called SE, LFG held a press release stating that it was a strategic move for the international film and TV market

However, just within two years, SE found itself racking up billions of dollars in debt due to its poor project management

As such, people in the know have been secretly ridiculing Victor for making an error of judgement

Fortunately, LFG’s connections with the media prevented this information from leaking out

But it doesn’t change the fact that LFG messed up this time

Victor hasn’t slept in two days - he’s been poring through documents, project materials, and would sometimes sit in the conference room alone for several hours, forgetting to eat :

When Victor returns to the hotel, there are over a hundred unread notifications on his phone. 

He doesn’t pay attention to such information, but taps on the only pinned message amid the countless lists of prompts.

Unsurprisingly, it’s filled with insignificant idle talk, coupled with several different emoticons.

Victor loosens his tie slightly, reading through the messages from top to bottom. 

“I made an improved version of omurice. Want to try it?”

“What is Goldman talking about in his Moments - something about being angry and tired. Is the meeting not going smoothly?”

“Remember to eat...”

“And remember to sleep!”

Victor’s finger pauses at this line, and there’s a gentle emotion flowing in his eyes.

“The internet celebrity lawyer you mentioned the other time agreed to my invitation for an interview, so I’ll be rushing out the proposal this Saturday. Want to be a supervisor?”

Victor opens the dialog box. Once he sends an “ok”, the other party immediately responds with an emoticon of a winking cat. 

Thinking of the time right now, he arches his brows slightly. 

-

Nestled in my quilt, I’m just about to embark on a long speech regarding the weekend’s schedule, but the phone in my hand suddenly vibrates, surprising me. 

Victor: Did you not sleep, or did you wake up?

MC: Haha...

Victor: What are you laughing at? 

MC: It feels like that is something I often ask you. Why is it now your turn to ask me?

Victor: It’s only 5am now. 

MC: I didn’t get a reply from you, so I couldn’t sleep...

I turn over, changing to a more comfortable position against the corner of the quilt. I press the phone tightly to my ear. 

MC: What project are you busy with this time? Is it going smoothly? 

Victor: Smoothly. It’s still early, you can sleep for a while longer.

MC: ...I can’t really sleep now. Are you still coming back on Thursday as you said last time? 

Victor: Before Saturday. 

MC: It’s only Tuesday today... and the sun hasn’t come out yet. 

I hear Victor laugh, his low tone mixed with some tiredness.

Victor: You find it too late? 

MC: I wouldn’t dare to. If it weren’t something important, you wouldn’t delay returning. However... even if it’s because of work, you did go back on your word, so you have to promise me one thing. 

A deep and slow sigh enters my ear, revealing a faint sense of fatigue.

Victor: You can say it. 

MC: You have to eat, and you have to sleep.

The other end of the phone call grows silent for a few seconds. 

Victor: Mm, I promise you.

The misty morning light is on the curtains. In the midst of my quiet grogginess, I close my eyes, wanting to feel the frequency of his breaths. 

MC: ...it has been raining continuously in Paris these two days. 

Victor: It’s like that during this season. 

MC: Is... is it very cold...

Victor: No, it isn’t. 

My consciousness grows increasingly darker, but I can still clearly capture his voice in my bizarre dream world. 

Victor: [in the gentlest of gentle voices] Sleep if you’re tired. I’m hanging up. 

MC: N-not tired... don’t hang up...

Victor: You can’t even speak clearly, and you’re still unwilling to sleep?

MC: ...

I just need five more seconds to be clear-headed--

I let out a sound of agreement, unsure if I managed to say this aloud.

Very soon, only Victor’s long and steady breaths at my ear remain in my world. It’s very, very close. It’s a closeness that gives one a peace of mind. 

Victor: Are you asleep?

MC: ...

Victor: Sleep then.

Victor: ...

Victor: Sleep peacefully. 

-

On Saturday afternoon, I lift my head towards the wall clock for the nth time. When the needle points to the number ‘3′, I can no longer help myself, and give Victor a call. 

After the dial tone, the notification that the other party is unable to answer the call sounds. Before I can react, the doorbell rings. 

Victor is standing at the door and just about to put his phone back into his pocket. In a daze, I look towards at his empty hands. 

MC: Your luggage...

Victor: Goldman took them back. I still have to return to LFG tonight. 

As he speaks, he enters and changes his shoes in the hallway. After that, he walks straight into my bedroom.

Victor: What have you been doing these two days? 

He walks to the coffee table, picking up the messy outline I was working on for an interview. He takes a glance and then lifts the corners of his lips. 

Victor: You said you were working seriously for several days, but you just did a few outlines? 

MC: Don’t underestimate me! I’ve looked through quite a number of materials. Look!

I point at the stack of trending societal topics and legal-related books on the floor. 

MC: Preparatory work speeds up the actual process. Also, didn’t I recognise my inadequacies and ask you to be a supervisor? 

I hurriedly drag a chair to the coffee table and place a headrest on the back of it. 

MC: Please sit. I guarantee that from this second onwards, I’ll concentrate on the proposal. Before the sun sets, I’ll definitely have the first edition out. 

Victor can’t help but laugh. He hangs his coat on the clothes rack in the corner, then pulls the chair over to himself. After sitting down, he seems to recall something and lets out a faint sigh. 

Victor: Lend me your laptop for a while.

I hand him my notebook computer, and a thought flashes across my mind -- how could he not have brought a laptop out?

MC: Victor, when did you get infected by my scatterbrained habits? 

Victor: Only this time. I forgot to take it with me after leaving it in the backseat.

Victor avoids my teasing gaze. With his expression unchanged, he starts approving documents on the LFG intranet. 

Victor: The sun is setting in two hours. 

MC: Who knows - maybe the sun wouldn’t feel like going home today. 

I return to my seat, resting my chin on my palm while looking towards Victor. 

The light golden sunlight streams in from the window, slowly enveloping Victor. The quiet, warm rays of light are coupled with a calming woody scent, and are very pleasant. 

Victor doesn’t speak. His fingers tap against the desk from time to time. In this quiet room, the sound of our breathing is amplified.

After an inordinate amount of time, he finally lifts his eyes and meets mine.

Victor: Staring at me can help you finish your proposal?

MC: I’m not staring at you. I’m silently conceptualising ideas.

After my words are out, a short “ding” sounds.

MC: Wait for a moment~ 

In a flash, I rush to the kitchen and retrieve the aromatic cookies from the oven. After carefully placing them on a cooling rack, I bring it back to the room along with two cups of warm drinks. 

MC: Afternoon tea time!

Victor casts a glance at the cups and arches his brows slightly. Steam floats from the hot cup of milk, and strands of warmth merge with the sweetness in the house.

MC: Your dark circles are so deep, so don’t drink coffee, all right?  

Victor: I’m fine. 

I thought Victor meant that he wouldn’t drink this, but he holds up the cup after speaking. 

Once I sit down, I push the plate filled with cookies towards him. 

MC: Look at my new mold - isn’t it cute?

I point at the cookies, which are shaped like cats with different expressions on them. 

MC: This one is yawning, this one is full of grievances, this one has already fallen asleep, but I like this one the most. It keeps having an angry face. I called it “Qi Gu Gu”.

[Note: Names don’t translate well into English, so I left it as it is. The original name is 气鼓鼓, which means “seething”]

Victor’s eyes sweep towards my fingers. 

Victor: Looks like you. 

MC: Is that so?

I puff my cheeks, mimicking the cat on the cookie and squinting my eyes to look at Victor. 

As predicted, Victor ignores me. There is a measure of speechlessness in his eyes.

I laugh and bring “Qi Gu Gu” to his lips. 

MC: Give it a try? 

Victor takes a bite straight from my hand, then returns his gaze to the laptop. 

MC: Aren’t you going to evaluate it? 

He purses his lips slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s smiling or not. He leans forward a little, then finishes the remaining half of “Qi Gu Gu” in my hand. 

His warm lips brush against my fingertips, leaving behind a soft, lingering warmth. A fluffy, light, and sweet sense of happiness stirs up slowly in my heart. 

Contented, I sweep the crumbs off my hands and take up my pen again. 

Soon after, MC’s mind starts wandering to how fine the weather is

And how fine her man is 👀

He doesn’t show much emotion while working, and his expression looks as calm as always. But the deep look of concentration between his eyebrows is a little different from usual.

As for what exactly is different...

It’s probably how one just can’t look away.

Victor: It’s only been a few minutes. How many times have you lost focus? 

I hurriedly retract my gaze, pretending to be scribbling on the paper like an “obedient” student who got caught doing something improper by a teacher.

But my ideas have not been completely formulated, and I can’t think of anything to write. The only thing I can do is draw a small heart at the top right-hand corner of the paper. 

Sensing Victor’s lingering gaze on me, I continue scribbling until it becomes a solid heart, then attach a tilde at the end.

After pausing for a moment, I let out a soft sigh and lift my head slightly. 

Victor: Why are you sighing.

MC: ...I can’t help it.

Victor: Can’t help what? 

MC: Can’t help looking at you. 

I cross my arms together, changing to a more comfortable position and plopping onto the table. I tilt my head towards Victor. 

He lets out a barely audible laugh. Just as he’s about to speak, a familiar ringtone sounds from his pocket. 

Watching Victor pick up the call, my messy thoughts instantly vanish, and I feel slightly downcast.

Victor: The time now is...

While speaking, Victor looks at the bottom right corner of the laptop. After a slight pause, he looks at the phone. 

Victor: 4.30pm. Have them give me a reply by 8pm. 

His words are concise. After he hangs up, I ask him a little hesitantly. 

MC: Do you... have to go back to LFG now? 

Victor: I'm not leaving. 

While saying this, he sets his phone on silent mode and places it at the corner of the table. Meeting my hesitant gaze, there’s a sense of resignation in his calm eyes.

Victor: Your laptop is set to Paris’ timezone. 

I fail to understand the implication behind his words, so I just nod subconsciously. 

MC: Mm, it’s easier to tell the time like that. 

Victor doesn’t speak. He sweeps another glance at the laptop. At this moment, the system sends a report of the weather forecast in Paris over the next five days - there will be continuous rain every day.

He smiles faintly, then closes the laptop slowly.

Victor: ...you’re really becoming more and more dumb.

MC: ...yes yes yes, taking care of a dummy like me is really a bother for Mr CEO. 

I deliberately pout, but can’t help but smile along with Victor. I stand up and retrieve our two empty cups.

MC: I'll go wash the cups. Is there anything you want to eat?

Victor: No need. Are you treating me as you? 

I let out an indignant “hmph”, then turn around and head to the kitchen. 

I originally thought it would only take a few minutes to wash the two cups. But by the time I cleaned and tidied up the tools I used for baking earlier, half an hour has passed. 

When I return to the room, Victor is lying on the bed, my incomplete outline in his hand.

I soften my footsteps and walk over, leaning close to his ear and whispering:

MC: Victor, are you asleep? 

Victor doesn’t respond, but has a shallow intake of breath, his eyelashes quivering gently under the twilight. 

MC: Are you really sleeping or just pretending to sleep? 

Very lightly, I climb onto the bed, inching towards him.

MC: Victor? 

I call his name again softly, but he still does not respond. But the corners of his lips curl up slowly, revealing a smile.  

MC: You aren’t asleep, are you.

I lean one hand on the bed, and use my other hand to lift up a few strands of his hair. 

Looking at his smooth and sharp jawline, my fingertips unconsciously rub the tips of his hair. 

MC: ...have you been very tired recently?

Victor: No.

His words carry with them a certain sleepiness - perhaps he hasn’t had rest in a few days, so he gets drowsy once he relaxes just a little. 

MC: Didn’t you already look at my interview outline? Why are you looking at it again? 

Victor: To see what exactly you were scribbling. 

I think about that heart with its little tail, and am left speechless, as though I got caught having a bad idea. 

Victor: You specially got me here to supervise you, but you only wrote these few sentences the whole afternoon? 

MC: Yeah. Next time, I won’t ask you to be a supervisor! When you’re in front of me, my work efficiency takes a nose-dive. 

I reach out to take my notebook from his hand, then cover him with a blanket. Victor turns his head, his half-closed eyes meeting mine. 

It’s very rare for me to see such a burnt-out look in his eyes. Right now, I can only feel the emotions in my heart towards this person becoming a hundred times more tender. 

MC: Sleep for a while before going to LFG? I’ll wake you up at 7.30pm.

With the rigour of Victor’s schedule, several important meetings were cancelled at short notice so he could fly to Paris. After that, his return was delayed twice.

We already agreed that he’d return before Saturday, but it suddenly changed to Saturday itself...

This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t an extremely troublesome matter. 

...and he still stubbornly said that he wasn’t tired.

I place my forefingers on his temples, making slow circles. After a while, a soft laugh drifts from his lips. 

Victor: [releases a sigh which sounds like a moan lol]...

Victor takes my right hand and encloses it in his palm, wordlessly pulling me closer to him. 

With this distance, every one of his breaths mingle with mine. I can’t help but bend down, pressing the corner of my lips to his fringe.

In the quiet darkness, I hear the frequency of our heartbeats and breathing mingling and becoming more and more synchronised.

Victor: ...there’s no need to worry about me. I haven’t reached the point where a dummy has to worry about me.

MC: Mm, I got it. 

I respond softly, but can’t hide the touch of peace in my smile. 

MC: ...I just can’t help it.

Can’t help but worry if you’re hungry or not, whether you're cold or not, whether you’re tired or not. 

Can’t help but want to see you, whether you’re in front of me or not.

Can’t help but reveal the smile in my brows and lips just because you surface in my mind. 

I look out the window - the clouds spread across the dim twilight and the stars are looming. The golden sunset and the quietness of the night meet at the end of the sky. 

The sun is about to set.

MC: Victor, I didn’t finish the interview outline before the sun set. Are you going to punish me? 

Victor: ...

The only response I get is the sound of his steady and peaceful breathing. 

I lower my head and look at his sleeping face. This familiar side profile has gotten slightly thinner over the span of just a few days. I reach out, stroking his cheek in mid-air.

Afraid to disturb him, I silently watch him.

MC: Sleep then.

MC: ...

MC: Sleep peacefully. 

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor #Victor's dates are always so comforting T^T

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry

A/N: I feel like I forgot how to write but I guess the best way to overcome that is trying to write again. I’m still trying to write Lawyer Harry and Ohana but I’m struggling I don’t know why. Also this on first person POV. Thought I’d try something different too. Anyway, sorry for this annoying intro I don’t even know who I’m writing this for haha if after all this ranting you still decided to read, thank you and happy reading! xxx

INDIE’S POV

This skirt fitted me better last spring. I look at my profile on the mirror and focus on my belly and my lips frown at the muffin top I got during the winter. I really need to get back with the abs routine Sergio had made for me. I guess it would help if I didn’t hate abs with a passion. I’d be so fit if I didn’t hate abs and then it would be over for all of them skinny bitches. 

“Indie?” Jason barely whispers my name outside the door. 

“Coming.” 

I open the door fast as soon as I get my white coat on, getting my braid out of it as I walk with Jason towards the doctors’ offices. I have yet to meet my mentor, doctor Hill, since yesterday he didn’t work. That’s something I’ll never understand. If he’s not working then how can he have a medical student assigned for hospital practice? That’s beyond me. Thank God for young doctors who still remember what it was like to be an ignored Med student and help you out and take care of you. God bless them. 

“You look cute today.” Jason points out but I know he means it more like a suspicion than a compliment so I just roll my eyes and check I have my notepad on the pocket of my coat. “Hoping to see Mario again, are we?” 

I chuckle. 

“You know some of us don’t want to jump the bones of every nice guy we meet.” I tease him.

“You’re telling me. You haven’t been with anyone in fourteen months.”

“You’re counting?” I can feel my face contorting in desbelief. “That’s sick.” 

“I mean I don’t know if it’s been fourteen or fifteen or what but more than a year.” 

I look into his brown eyes and hold his stare for long enough so that he undertands I do not necessarily want to discuss this here and now where any professor could walk past us any minute and he rolls his eyes so I know he’ll drop it. 

“Anyway, our paths part here.” He announces right before he knocks on an office’s door and moves his mouth so that it looks like the voice of his mentor is his own. 

I chuckle again as I make my way to office 32, where I read doctor Hill should be today in the doctor’s planning. A patient stops me on the way there and asks me where the digestive doctors hall is and I give him the directions with the smile that comes naturally to my face. I’ve been told that a lot, that I’m always smiling, even my grandad used to call me toothy when I was little for how much he would see my teeth when I smiled. 

I’ve been studying medicine for four years and I’ve been dressing up as a doctor for hospital practice for two but it’s still exciting when some patient actually mistakes me with a real doctor because well, it’s so clear to me that I’m not, but it’s encouraging to see that people think I could be. 

The office door is opened and I hear two male voices casually chatting on the inside. I don’t want to eavesdrop, especially because the probability of getting caught is rather high so I knock on the opened door and wait for them to give me permission to enter. They just stop talking so I take another step and stand on their sight. Mario, the nice young doctor that helped me yesterday, is looking at me with raised eyebrows. It’s almost hard to recognize him without the surgery gown so I reckon it might be the same for him but then he smiles and I give him a smile back. 

“Hi, Mario.” 

“Hi. Looking for doctor Hill?” 

I nod at his question and he nods back as if telling me I’m on the right place but before he can speak the other doctor interrupts him. 

“Here it is, Mario. D’you want me to print it fo you?”

Mario moves to the side so I can see the man who owns that voice and I know I must look stunned because I am. Doctors don’t usually look like that and I have never been this lucky. Usually our mentors are doctors over 50 and when they’re male they’re usually fat or bald, sometimes both, but he looks like a movie star or like a singer or someone from Olympus and I try to save the way he looks on my mind as if I already know no one is ever going to look like him ever. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here for or if any of them has said anything to me but by the way his green eyes stare into mine, amused, I feel like it’s been too long. How did he even manage to be a mentor? I don’t think he’s even a full doctor yet, he looks to young for that. 

“You’re so unlucky, Harry. You got the most annoying student, always asking questions...” Mario jokes. 

I chuckle, finding it funny that he would remember how I apologized the day before for making so many questions. He was really nice yesterday and he’s being very nice now saving me from my embarrassingly staring at Harry. He then stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.” 

And much to my surprise, not that I’m complaining though, he approaches me and places one hand on my elbow, leaning in and pressing his cheek against mine in the way I would greet a friend. But he’s not a friend. No doctor has ever greeted me like that. And he just introduced himself as Harry, didn’t he? Does that mean he wants me to call him Harry? No doctor Hill anymore? 

“I’m Indigo.” I tell him.

“Indigo.” He smiles and I think I’ve forgotten how to speak. “That’s such a beautiful name.” 

“Thank you.” I look at my feet because I’m gonna fangirl if he keeps smiling at me. “My mum’s a painter and a hippy.” 

He laughs and I feel my breath getting caught on my throat. I think I’m having a tachicardia. I feel stupid. It’s not like I’ve never seen a handsome man before. But I’ve certainly never been this close to one and I’ve never had his attention. 

“Well, I’m on my way to the operating room.” Mario announces. “See you, mate.” 

He gives Harry a warning look before he goes but Harry chuckles and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s look and my nerves only grow stronger on my belly. 

“Well, Indigo, sit here next to me.” He grabs the chair next to his and brings it  closer to his until they’re touching and then he looks at me so I take a seat. “We usually check the list of the patients who are coming and read their clinical record before the visits begin, to be a little ahead, you know.” He smiles again. 

If he keeps smiling at me like that I might faint at some point today. He then turns towards the laptop and starts telling me about the patients, even though sometimes it feels like he’s more thinking out loud than talking to me. I should really listen, especially in case he feels like asking me questions during the day because I really do not want to look like an idiot but I could stare at him all I want now and he wouldn’t notice and I can’t let this chance go so if I have to look like an idiot I will. 

I let my eyes travel freely across his features. His hair is brown and is a little too long for a male who normally works on a surgery room. It’s not like it’s inappropriate or anything and it looks incredible on him and something tells me he knows that but it’s not usual that someone from his status wears their hair that long and that tousled. He asks something out loud but I know he’s not waiting for an answer because as soon as he asks it he searchs on the browser- and it’s not like I could have answered anyway. My mind is busy and the moment my eyes drop to his arm, flexed, elbow resting on the table, I could gulp just imagining those arms holding me against this very same desk and- what the fuck am I doing? 

I know he can’t hear what I think but I still have to remind myself that and I pray to God he does not turn around because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. He’s wearing the hospital uniform, with the baby blue button up and the baby blue pants, but I entertain my mind trying to picture his naked torso. This is so wrong for the love of God, he’s my professor. I really need to chill. I feel like a dog in season. But this is just extraordinary, I am not usually around men this hot, and what’s the harm in daydreaming anyway? 

The moment my eyes move back up they stare into his amused ones and I feel my cheeks heating up so I get afraid I’m blushing. 

“You were awfully quiet.” He states, a somewhat smug grin on his face but I am not judging, I made it pretty easy for him to make fun of me. “Did you understand?”

“Mostly.” 

“Mostly, huh?” He smirks. “If there’s something I say that you don’t understand you just stop me, alright? Now, can you read an electrocardiogram?” 

“I should be able to.” 

He chuckles and places it one in front of me. I am getting embarrassingly exciting that he finds me funny but I have to bite back a smile of my own at his friendly attitude. 

“Go on then.” 

“Okay, first thing we need to look for P on II and V1.” I speak very slow so that I have time to think while I do so and judging by the way he’s smirking, he’s noticing. “And we see that we have indeed P waves, which is good, no auricular fibrilation then. And then we look for QRS and we check the frequency by counting and multiplying” I do the calculations on my mind “and it’s 75 hearbeats per minute, a little high but nothing to worry about, people tend to get nervous when we do electrocardiograms on them. And we check the dimensions of the waves, the height, the width... And I don’t know this looks pretty normal to me.” 

I dare to look at him and he’s smirking but it doesn’t look cocky to me, it’s more like a proud smile so I smile back, happy with myself. 

“Very good.” He smiles. “Just a little, tiny detail but you obviously don’t need to know that so don’t worry.” He stands up from his chair and stands right behind me and places his left hand on the desk in front of me so I can his chest hovering over me. His finger points a random P wave. “If you look closely at the P wave, does it look normal to you?” 

I swallow, quite frankly I don’t know if the P wave looks normal or not. I guess it doesn’t because otherwise he wouldn’t be asking that but why does he smell so good? And why is his arm hovering over my chest? This could be the moment I faint. 

“I know it’s not because that’s why you’re asking but I don’t see it.” 

He laughs again and even though it’s silly, I can’t help but wonder if he laughs this much with everyone. 

“It’s a little higher than normal, but it’s very subtle, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet and anyway it’s not that important.” He laughs again. “But it might indicate a right atrium hypertrophy. That’s for an A+ in cardiology.” He smiles before taking his seat back and opening a new record. 

“What year are you in?” He’s not looking at me while he asks that. 

“Fourth.” 

He nods his head but keeps quiet after that and I’m not sure why he even asked that but for some reason- it might be because his scent still lingers on my nostrils or because he just hovered over me or because he indirectly asked my age- I feel a strange tension over my shoulders so I ask him something I genuinely don’t know anyway about the patient’s record and he even grabs a paper to draw some shit and for some reason that’s turning me on. The way he speaks, so slow but without hesitation, he’s got a very calming voice, and how many things he knows and how smart he seems to be... I’ve always had a thing for intelligent guys and the fact that he’s also so close and smells so good is only adding to that. 

“Hi there.” 

A very tall man with a white hospital uniform walks in and gives us both a look before he takes a seat on the counter next to the stretcher. He must be the nurse. 

“So” He says, giving us his back as he types something on his laptop “who are you?” He turns to look at me. 

I find it a little rude, but I don’t know this man at all. He might just be one of those people who come out strong so I give him a smile. 

“I’m a fourth year med student. I have practice here today.” I explain. 

“I know that, I’m your mentor, doctor Hill, but what’s your name?” 

“Oh, sorry.” My tongue melts. “I mean Indigo, not sorry. My name’s not sorry.” 

I hear Harry laughing out loud behind me and doctor Hill smiles as well. I totally looked like an idiot but at least they seemed to have found it endearing. 

“Well, my name’s not sorry either.” Doctor Hill said. “You can call me Peter, Indigo.” 

“Okay, Peter.” 

“I see you’ve already met my resident doctor, doctor Styles.” 

I nod my head. 

“Cool, so now that we all know each other... Harry, who’s the first one?” 

Like that we start visiting the patients and for the first time since I started my hospital practice, I actually have fun during one of them. Both Peter and Harry are quite funny, even though they do tease me a lot, but they also allow me to do a lot of things like weighting the patients, checking their blood pleasures and Harry even lets me do a clinical interview, under his watch obviously, but it was still exciting. The lady I did the interview to was so nice and I could feel Harry’s attentive stare with a proud, amused smile the entire time, even the lady smiled every time she looked at him. 

After about three hours of visits, Peter stands up from his chair next to mine and stretches his back. 

“So Harry, I think I’m gonna go to the surgery rooms to give a hand.” He states and my heart drops to my belly at the anticipation that he’s gonna make me go with him and my day with Harry is over. “What do you want to do, Indigo?” I hold my breath at the surprise. “Do you wanna come with me or stay here with Harry? Well, that’s if Harry doesn’t mind but I think he doesn’t.” He smirks. 

“No, of course not. It’s actually nice to have a nurse around.” He smiles. 

“I think I’m gonna stay then if that’s okay.” 

Peter nods and smiles. 

“Do you prefer visits over surgery room or you just prefer doctor Styles over me?” 

I see Harry shaking his head from the corner of my eye and look down at my hands. 

HARRY’S POV

“Sorry” I call Indigo with the nickname she gave herself and she raises her eyebrows “would you please call the next patient? Mrs Hope.” 

“Good name.” 

I cannot not smile. She stands up from her chair and I entertain my eyes with the laptop screen just to pretend I’m not watching her all the time. I think I’ve managed to rebuild my reputation from how much of a fool of myself I made when I introduced myself to her but it just took me off guard. I wasn’t expecing to have a student around at all, much less that the student was going to look like her. 

I’m also done with feeling guilty for thinking about her  that way, even though now I’m starting to feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but I can’t control my mind and I don’t think anyone who’s seen her could judge me. Plus, she can’t know what I’m thinking. Even Mario flirted with her this morning...

But no, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or to take advantage of my position at all. She came here to learn and I really need to stop looking at her thighs. She closes the door after Mr Copper and I feel the hair at the back of my neck bristle when I see the way he looks at her. 

“Good morning, doctor.” He greets me. “You’re very lucky you have such a beautiful assistant.” 

Sorry smiles but her shoulders have tensed and even though I’ve only known her for a few hours, I can tell when someone’s uncomfortable and I know she is. I don’t blame her either. I reckon I’d be uncomfortable too. 

“She’s also very smart too. That’s why she’s here actually.” 

I don’t want to be rude with my patient but for some reason I felt like I had to protect her. I catch her trying not to smile looking at her thighs and I try not to smile too. We do Mr Copper’s visit and she starts scribbling on her notepad and I have to help myself from peeking at the questions she’s going to make. I wonder if what she’s written down if that she has noticed Mr Copper jugular. 

When Mr Copper walks out, I turn to look at her and smile. Again. 

“Thank you.” She says. 

“What for?” I frown. 

“You know, for what you said.” Her eyes stare into mine and I try to figure out what is it about this girl that’s making me nervous. “Most guys don’t even understand why some compliments make us feel uncomfortable.” 

I smile at her. I hope she knows she really is beautiful and I mean I can understand Mr Copper and had he said that any other way or had he not looked at her like he did right before, I wouldn’t have said anything and I’m sure she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable but it was just inappropriate. 

“It’s true though.” 

I’m already a sucker for her smile. Thank God I am not going to see her again. 

“Do you have any questions for me?” 

“Mmm...” She bites her bottom lip. 

I’ve noticed she does that when she’s not sure of something. I like it. She has very beautiful lips too, so full and pink and moisturized. Look back into her eyes, Harry. 

“I’ve seen you scribbling like crazy.” I encourage her. 

I want her to ask me whatever it is that’s going through her mind. 

“No, well, I was describing his jugular.” 

I feel my dick as soon as she said that. So she noticed. She’s fucking smart and that’s a turn on. 

“So that I would remember what I saw, you know?” 

I nod. 

“Do I have to give you a mark or just sign your assistance?” 

“Just sign.” She shakes her head. 

“Shit. Well, you got an A anyway.” 

She grins excitedly and I want to ask her how old she is again but I turn around and open the next record. This is the last one left and it’s the first time since I started working I don’t want to finish visiting, but when we are done she’ll go and I’ll never see her again. 

I swear I’m trying not to feel attracted to her. I know it’s wrong but if I’m not going to see her again, I mean if she’s just going to leave now and I’ll never have to supervise her practice again, I could ask for her phone number, right? I mean I’m not a professor like Danny. It’s not technically prohibited. But she would feel pressured. I can’t do that. 

“Actually, Harry” her voice cracks a little and I want to look at her but I know she’s nervous so I don’t “I do have a question. Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything, Sorry.” 

“It... It has nothing to do with the practice, though.” 

“It doesn’t?” Now this is interesting. 

I finally turn my body towards her so that I’m facing her and encourage her to ask me. If she asks for my number I’ll give it to her, but I don’t think she will. 

“Mmm... Can I ask how old are you?” 

I don’t want to tell her and that’s when I notice all my attempts at trying not to be attracted to her have failed. Her skin is so soft and she smells so good, like sweet vanilla, I bet she tastes sweet too. Fuck, I’m doing it again and I’m looking at her breasts. Fuck me. 

“I’m 27.” 

She smiles and I don’t know what that means. I want to ask her but we need to call the last patient. 

“Miss Asvenson.” I smile. 

She nods and stands up from her chair but before she opens the door I ask her. 

“And you?” 

We look into each other’s eyes and I think we both know why we’re asking. She smiles. 

“21.” 

I nod. She’s legal everywhere in the world. 

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #harry styles love #harry styles love story #harry styles fans #harry styles news #harry styles stories #harry styles writing #harry styles fics #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #Harry Styles #hsnews #harry news #harrystyles #harry styles imagines #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and you #love story #story

[queerchoicesblog]

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Folks, here’s the final update of the wlw story set in the Sixties, my third  miniseries of the wlw writing project. I just thought this was the right ending for this story...for once.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

New wlw miniseries will be posted once I gather enough inspiration and manage to write properly!

Previous Chapters: Living The Dream, The Girl Next Door, New Beginnings

___________________________

Two years after that day, I am flying all the way across the Atlantic, destination Paris. This time though I am not serving champagne and assisting the passengers. This time I am a passenger. It's my first time back 'on the other side' since I joined the Pan Am Airways...and it's the first time on a plane for Kelsey, sitting by my side. I let her have the window seat so that she could admire the ocean of clouds beneath us. She looked like a kid in a candy shop, sitting happily in her seat as the other passengers kept flowing in the main aisle. She even hushed me when my colleague was going through the cheerful welcoming speech, explaining the route and the safety measures. I shook my head and smiled at her enthusiasm. Then when the plane finally entered the takeoff runaway, I leaned closer and whispered to brace herself because we would need high speed to lift. She nodded and instinctively searched for my hand inhaling sharply as if she was the pilot in charge of the procedure. I took her hand into mine just as the engines started rumbling and I will never forget the look of purest amazement on Kelsey's face when we lifted from the ground and the airport buildings became smaller and smaller beneath us.

Of course I called her back. We met at Central Park a couple of weeks after our little chat. The sky was gloomy and chilly gusts of wind reminded us Spring is a whimsical season but I stopped caring about it the moment Kelsey waved at me. She was waiting on a bench holding herself in a plaid coat. It's silly but I remember every single detail and word we said that day. I asked her about her last exam and gave her a little gift I bought her during my last trip, reminiscing our conversation at the airport cafe. She wasn't expecting anything of that sort and gaped at the teddybear in beefeater uniform. I told her the clerk kindly reassured me that Archie, short for Archibald, was in perfect health conditions so he didn't need to be admitted to the toy hospital: she could keep it, he would make good guard of her. She chuckled and threw her arms around my neck, just like that, without thinking. I hugged her back and inhaled her perfume: it was sweet, vanilla maybe? When we parted, she insisted to get me a hot cocoa in return, "at the very least". So we ended up in a cozy little cafe she knew a few streets away. A good friend of her had worked there for a while before landing another job in a hotel, she told me: she offered to replace her but she had little luck and ended up at the airport. I found myself thinking that such shift wasn't so unlucky after all: had she got the job here, we would have never met, maybe. I hardly go downtown when I'm home, I mainly spend time with former colleagues or pay a visit to Nancy or my parents, whenever I can. How could have we met if she hadn't worked at the airport too? I didn't say it out loud though, I didn't want to be too blunt or -worse- make it all about me. She knew quite a few things about me already while I knew so little about her. We talked for hours, till the lamp lights gleamed in the streets, brightening the darkness now gently embracing the city. Kelsey told me more about her childhood in Michigan all cold mountains and icy lakes to skate on...it suddenly made sense that she wasn't bothered in the least by New York chill! How one day her hometown felt too small to contain her dreams so she moved to the big city, guest of an older brother who wasn't sent off to war. She enrolled to the nurse school and didn't waste time looking for a job. Even if juggling school and work was hard, it was what she wanted. And she felt like she was making her Nana proud. I liked hearing her talking of that woman who must have had a great influence on her or her roommates who held the wildest parties in the weekend despite their flat being anything but big enough to have room for all the friends and acquaintances they always managed to gather. It was a miracle that they hadn't had trouble with the neighbors so far... I couldn't help but notice that she quickly dismissed her parents and the sisters still living in Michigan. I wonder now if it has anything to do with the hint of sadness at the corner of Kelsey's eyes: as far as I know they didn't attend her graduation, months later, only her brother. He's in a Polaroid picture with the two of us pinned to the fridge: wearing his best suit and half hugging Kelsey, standing in the centre in her graduate gown and holding the gorgeous bouquet he gave her. We all smile at the camera...I'm sure Kelsey cherishes that picture as the brightest memory of her special day. Well, maybe one of the brightest memories of her special day. She held a little party in the evening to celebrate with her friends and roommates. His brother joined too and gallantly kept me company when I had no one to talk to. He reminded me of my Noah: he would have liked this party. Maybe he would have tried to impress the ladies with some smooth dance move and pouted at me if he failed...I suddenly realised that I could only hope he would still have legs to dance and walk when we meet again. If we meet again. I did my best to shake away such thoughts for the sake of the guest of honor, our graduate. I had a great time, despite the occasional nostalgia: we laughed, danced and drank cheap champagne, sloshing it over the rim as we cheered to the "new best nurse in town". Sadly, I couldn't stay as long as I wanted: I had to leave early in the morning, duty called. I left when the party was still in full swing after calling a cab. My steps echoed in the empty ground floor hall as I headed to the door, fixing my hair. The silence was abruptly broken a moment later by the sound of a familiar voice. "Sadie, wait!" I turned. Kelsey approached, panting as if she had run all the way down the stairs. Knowing her, she surely did. "Hey, nurse, wrong floor, the party is up there. Well, last time I checked" I joked while she caught her breath. My tease made her laugh. "Yeah I know...about that" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "Thank you for coming, I-I know you're always so busy and I truly appreciated you making time for me. It means a lot to me having you here today" She went quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact and looking at the tip of her shoes. I open my mouth to speak just when she met my gaze again with a deep sigh and a deep crimson spreading over her cheeks. "You mean a lot to me" Before she could think twice, she gently ran her hands up my arms and leaned closer. I tasted the cheap wine on her lips when they touched mine and smiled against her mouth as I returned the kiss. A sparkle of electricity ran through my spine as I pulled her close and her hands found my neck. Too soon a car honk outside broke the spell and we parted. "I'm afraid that's my cue and your guests are surely waiting too" I sighed and made to go but she stopped me. "Hold on" she giggled and ran a thumb underneath my bottom lip. "There, lipstick fixed, you can go now. If you have to, that is" We smiled to each other as I opened the front door. Before going my way, I gestured to the taxi driver and turned towards her. "You sure you're not drunk though?" Kelsey blushed and hugged herself. "What? No! I mean, maybe I'm a bit tipsy but..." she glanced over her shoulder to check if someone joined us and dropped her voice. "...But I meant it. I've wanted to do this for so long" I did my best not to blush myself and run into her arms once again. "Fine but...you owe me a sober one when I'm back. Just to make sure, you know" I winked, flashing her a smile. "Goodnight, nurse". That was the first of many kisses and many dates. Soon she found a job at the John Hopkins Hospital so meeting up was not always easy but now I all wanted when I had my time off between flights was to spend it with her. Talk to her over the phone whenever it wasn't possible. I held back a little at first: I didn't want to fall head first just like the other time just to be abandoned when I was no longer needed. Nor to be accidentally outed: I wasn't sure how my boss would take that. I explained it to Kelsey one night after much consideration: my voice surely shook as I spoke because I was dead scared that she would have changed her mind immediately after hearing my confession. I was wrong: there was no need to rush things, she said. She wasn't exactly out too and - she added with a soft chuckle- after all, she always knew that dating a Pan Am stewardess wouldn't be exactly easy. It wasn't easy, she was right. But she made it worth it. She won my heart with gentleness and sweetness, and I like to think I made her fall in love with me in a similar manner but only she can confirm it. Kelsey was extremely romantic, more than I first suspected. Unless she was terribly late, she would never leave for work without pinning a gracious note to the fridge if I was still sleeping, and she baked decadent heart-shaped chocolate cakes for my birthdays. When we went skating at Central Park around Christmas, with the excuse to help me balance, she wrapped an arm around my waist the whole time. For our first anniversary, we opted for a dinner at my place. I bought a bottle of champagne and a rose on my way back from the airport: when I handed the chas to the cashier, the heart was pounding in my chest in excitement...I felt like the main character of a romantic movie. Kelsey was a vision in the floral dress she bought for the occasion. When after dinner, we put on a soft record and slow danced barefoot in the living room, all the miles I had left behind to be there that day vanished from my mind. All I could think of was the woman in my arms, the scent on her skin, the comforting warmth radiating from her body when I spooned her at night. Her contagious laughter, those emerald eyes I would have never forgotten. It took me a moment to process she was whispering some Beatles lines into my ear. Oh please, say to me You'll let me be your man And please, say to me You'll let me hold your hand Now, let me hold your hand And when I touch you I feel happy inside It's such a feelin' that my love I can't hide That's when I...cried. I hid my head in the crook of her neck and cried all the tears of joy I think I would have never shed. They kept flowing, I couldn't stop. Poor Kelsey got all concerned and mortified, fearing she had ruined our night. When I could finally speak again, I cupped her face and brushed away a loose strand of hair. Smiling through the tears, I stroke her cheek and told her not to be silly. I'm sure the kiss I pressed on her lips after dropping the l word put her mind at ease. Since that day I am one of the most envied members of my crew. My colleagues always asks of my mysterious lover who puts such a big smile on my face and pamper me with the best anniversaries and sweet surprises. I don't share the full details with them and I'm amused to hear their theories concerning this or that passenger. I soon started realising what others found out sooner then I did: how badly I missed -and I still do miss - Kelsey when I'm away. I love travelling and all the perks my job has, but now a five days land off in a dream destination also meant five days, possibly a week without seeing my love. One day a pilot I befriended gave me his old Polaroid camera as a belated gift and I started taking pictures to show her once we were reunited. Old cathedrals, breathtaking tropical beaches, views of European streets or Japanese gardens....everything that would catch my eye. We make albums of them and they're all piled up in the living room library side by side with Kelsey's medicine books. Now a picture of us relaxing in the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower lays there too. When my feelings for my sweet nurse became stronger and stronger and she started spending most of the week at my place, I decided to ask her to move in with me. And to make a phone call. I wasn't sure what my parents would say so I called Nancy instead. I needed to call her anyway and I told her. The truth, at last. I caught my breath for the whole time she took a long pause before speaking again. "Are you happy now, Sadie? I always thought you deserved happiness, that kind of happiness but never figured out why it seemed so hard for you...are you now with this girl?" No trace of judgement or mockery. If my confession made her somehow uncomfortable, she didn't show. On the contrary, she asked if we could all have lunch together when they would visit New York the next month: Fred would be busy with business meetings for the most time but maybe we could have lunch downtown: she, little Cathy, Kelsey and I. And so we did. Kelsey was awfully nervous about the meeting even if she was curious to get to know my best friend. She soon discovered she had no need to be so tensed: Nancy flashed her one of her brightest smile and pulled her into a hug as if they were old friends already. Little Cathy was a bit shier and politely shook her hand before hiding behind me. She loosened up during the meal though: by the end, Cathy even offered to share some of her fries and surprisingly picked her to walk her to the desserts display. I asked the two of them to bring back something for us too and Cathy nodded before offering her hand to Kelsey. When they was out of earshot, Nancy took the old conspiratorial look I remembered from our high school days. "Someone's blushing" I chuckled but before I could say something she argued that she had so much time to make up to. And my companion seemed awfully nice. "As mom used to say, a health professional is always useful in a family" she added absentmindedly, playing with a stray. "Now we're family, huh?" "Hush, best friends are basically sisters and sisters are family" she shrugged. "And even Cathy likes her as far as I can tell. Oh, here they come and full of sugar!" As the two of them slided back into the booth and handed out our desserts, Nancy spoke again. "Kelsey, I was just telling Sadie that you should come visit one day" she suggested, throwing me a smile before addressing my love again. "Fred couldn't make it today but you can stay at our place and we can show you around. It'll be fun, especially if you've never been to Florida. What about Thanksgiving? If you have time and no previous arrangement that is" Kelsey froze with her fork still at mid-air searching my gaze. Her cheeks turned a little pink. "That would be-" I started but Nancy was quicker than me. "Take your time, just think about it. We don't need an answer now but we will be so happy to have auntie Sadie and Kelsey whenever it suits you, right, honey?" As she put an arm around Cathy's shoulder, her little girl nodded enthusiastcally and flashed us a chocolatey smile. Nancy, the gleeful avalanche. That eventually hosted the two of us during the winter holidays since Thanksgiving didn't work out. They took us on a Christmas lights tour and treated us like the most renewed guests. Fred kept a bit to himself as usual: I don't know what Nancy told him but he was friendly to both of us. We spent a whole afternoon babysitting my "niece" as her parents went buying the finishing touches for the grand dinner. We baked gingerbread men and Cathy was all smiles and cute contagious laughters. Covered with flour and ginger but happy. The few days we spent in Florida were so different from the life I dreamed and I'm used to, on and off airplanes, surfing the clouds and being one of the "feminine icons of the decade" as a magazine claimed". Yet they kindled something inside me: I will never regret my choice of becoming a stewardess but Nancy was right when she called it "a strategic retreat", among many other more appealing things. I remembered the question Kelsey asked me when we first met about being always elsewhere...sure, travelling around satiate my curiosity to see the world, meet new people but it was also a way to run away from what I thought I could never had: a place in the world, a place to call my own where I could feel loved and myself. All it took was a fortuitous meeting at JFK airport. All it took was a brilliant girl from Michigan. Now, little girls still ask me for pictures when I walk out of the Pan Am gate and tell me I'm the woman they want to be one day. But I don't bask in that glory as I used to when I started. When the vessel touches the ground again, I know that the best time of my day is approaching. Just an hour away. My heart bursts in sweet excitement for when I open the door of my apartment, hang my bowler hat to the coat hanger and smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen. I'll smile, hearing familiar steps approaching from the bedroom, and say my favourite refrain: "Kelsey, love, I'm home".

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #original work #wlw miniseries #lgbtq #sixties

[whittakerjodie]

Love the Suit ( 13th Doctor X Reader )

Prompt: You're trying to focus on the task at hand but it's been so long since the Doctor has worn a suit and.. well.. you can't resist. Especially not when a certain someone encourages you.

A/N: I think it’ll finally post in the tag now, sorry for the wait! Written mainly because most fics portray 13 as the initiator and uh... It's not realistic sweety! So we’re playing Top the Timelord and smooching this dork. Also reader is a timelord because that seems cool

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Slightly saucy, takes place during episode One of season 12 so spoilers! also amateur writing. 

 After thousands of years of time and space, going 'undercover' remained one of your favorite strategies. Dressing up, establishing a new identity, and sneakily acquiring the information needed to save the day? A lot more favorable compared to fighting or narrowly escaping death (at least, in your opinion)

   Daniel Barton's party was an opportunity to do that. According to Yaz and Ryan, he'd been all too suspicious in their interview with him. The 5 of you, in addition to the mysterious new O, entered the party with the objective of finding him and getting information. It was high-scale by human standards, complete with security and gambling tables across the floor. Not unexpected for a man of Barton's status.

"It's a party, we're guests. Blend in." You scoffed at the Doctors statement. We're... us. Two timelords, 3 normal humans and someone we just met. Good luck with that. Even though all of you donned expensive fine suits similar to most of the other party members, (provided by the TARDIS, of course) you still could sense unease in the room as if a few of them knew you didn't belong. 

   Maybe it was the way Ryan and Graham were cheering and shouting about every little win while the others remained poker-faced. It could've also been the way Yaz didn't know what she was doing, awkwardly floating from game to game. But you suspected it was mainly the Doctor, who had just yelled "Snap!" Across the room despite being in a game of.. poker? You couldn't tell. 

   Regardless, you felt a little tug on the strings of your hearts at the confused look on her face when she realized they weren't playing Snap. The Doctors aloofness had always been a part of her charm, and the addition of her suit didn't exactly help you focus on blending in. It'd been decades in your time since she'd worn one, and even then it'd been in a different face. This was new... this was cute. Aggressively so. You knew you were staring for a little too long, but you didn't realize just how long until a voice sounded from next to you. 

"Just wondering if you’ve seen anything? Considering we are here for a reason" You shifted your gaze from the Doctor to O, who was smirking. Your face warmed at being caught in the act but you quickly stifled it down, remaining composed. You felt like chastising him for getting too close, as he should be trying to blend in on his own. You busied yourself with the game in front of you and thought of a quick response. 

"I’m well aware. Just making sure everyone else is doing their job." You added a little infliction at the end to indicate that maybe he should do so as well. He simply laughed and analyzed your cards. 

"I've been texting her for a while, you know. Know her quite well" A flash of jealousy briefly made itself known. You'd just met this man. The Doctor only met him once in person before. Who did he think he was? Whatever he was trying to do wouldn't work. Your friendship stretched beyond definition, had lasted for centuries. You- 

"That wasn't meant to be a dig, by the way. I only mean to say... I know a little bit about how she feels. And you've got an excellent poker face but as someone close to MI6 and as a... casual observer... I'm guessing I know a little bit about how you feel, too." You raised a brow at smile he wore. It was sinister, almost, but you considered what he'd said nonetheless. He seemed to notice your uncomfortable shift and it only seemed to make his smile grow. "Go for it. Trust me." 

As O walked away, you found it hard to break your eyes off of him. That was... weird, you thought. But he’s not entirely wrong. You made a mental note to ask the Doctor more about him later. Just as you turned back to gaze at her, she appeared in front of you. You jumped slightly, grabbing her arm out of surprise. 

"A little announcement, next time?"  

"Surprised you didn't sense me coming. Everything alright?" Her thick accent only made your heartbeat more and you dedicated a great amount of your effort into slowing it down. Focus, Y/N, You chastised. Your hand still softly rested on her arm and your eyes darted to it, before meeting hers. 

"F-fine, yeah." 

"I saw you and O talking, have you two found anything yet?"

"Not yet. Got... distracted" Not a lie. She frowned. 

"Ah well, we haven't either." She continued talking, explaining her next course of action but you couldn't possibly listen. Her face was so animated this regeneration. She'd always been a burst of personality and energy no matter the body, but it was different every time. One could make a brief comparison to looking at the sun too long. You adored it. You scanned the room briefly. Ryan and Graham were partaking in Hors d'oeuvres, and Yaz was talking to O. What he’d said crossed your mind once more. Well They're not exactly focusing. Why should I? 

"Y/N? Are you listening?" 

"Not totally. We should probably talk in another room. You know, away from others...?" You tried a little bit of a psychic nudge, once again checking to make sure everyone wasn't doing what they were supposed to. She seemed to be just slightly lost about your intentions. You rolled your eyes and your hand drifted from her arm to link with her hand. "Come with me" 

   None of the companions seemed to notice you leading her out of the room, and if they did they didn't approach or say anything. Good. As you walked down the elegant hallway, you guessed as to which doors led to empty rooms. Taking your chances, you pulled open the fourth door on your right. A small closet. Even better. You let her enter first then let the door close on its own. 

"So, I was thinking-" You cut her off by gently cupping her face, smiling softly at the look in her eye. She stared questioningly, then seemed to absorb the situation. "We're not here to talk about the plan are we?" You shook your head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"Not exactly. I was hoping, if we weren't too preoccupied, I could kiss you?" She nodded all to quickly and you laughed up until your lips gently pressed up against hers. They were soft and you sighed into them, feeling her hands hesitantly rest on your shoulders as her back hit the wall. You tried to decide what to do with your hands next.

Anywhere's fine, You felt the words pass through your mind and deepened the kiss, only having established a psychic link with her on a few highly dangerous adventures. The embrace was reassuring. It gave you time to explore, to understand, and to feel.  It was almost overwhelming. 

   You could tell she felt the same so you broke off the kiss to give her a small reprieve. As you two caught your breath, you gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Been waiting to do that for a while.” 

  She didn’t respond, seemingly dumbfounded. You felt a small swell of pride at the fact that you'd been able to make her speechless. You instinctively gave her a few more soft pecks, toying with the idea of going a little farther. You felt her eager acceptance and moved your lips to her throat, focusing some of your efforts into getting rid of the bow-tie that helped deny access to some of it. Bow-ties may have been cool once, but now they were an inconvenience. 

   As your lips grazed a certain point along her jaw she let out a soft noise; something between a whimper and a gasp, but not quite either. You both jumped back to look at each other in surprise. Just as you were about to fulfill your sudden goal of continuing kissing her senseless, the door opened. 

   Both of your heads snapped to the entrance, eyes wide and hearts beating fast. Graham, the unfortunate intruder, simply stared with a brow raised as high as the ceiling. You had a sinking feeling that there wasn't exactly a way to hide what you'd been doing. 

   One of her hands was buried in your hair (though she slowly lowered it) and both of yours were frozen in their attempt to unbutton her blazer. 

It was dreadfully, awkwardly, horribly silent. 

He cleared his throat. "Well then... We were just um, wondering where you were off to and uh-" he looked down the hallway and gave a curt nod before quickly walking away. Panic and embarrassment quickly swallowed the two of you whole and you stepped back. 

"We should probably-" 

"Oh, no definitely..." 

You took in her bewildered expression and couldn't help but burst into laughter. What a moment.

"What?" She asked, hurriedly fixing her hair and suit. You shook your head, still giggling. "No, really, what?" 

You gave her another quick kiss. 

"Oh, nothing. Love the suit, by the way" 

You didn't stay to see her reaction. 

Later, you heard through the remnants of your psychic link. 

Sounds like a plan. 

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #13th doctor imagine #Hopefuly this is good ahhh #doctor who #doctor who imagine

[fmdminaharchive]

❧ you’re like spring.

date(s): february-march 2021 mentions of: daisuke (briefly for happening reasons), jiah (extensively for gay reasons) word count: 1,712 (475 words composition, 748 words songwriting without the lyrics) warnings: none details: partial composition and full lyric verification for ‘the spring’. minah makes music again, it’s more of the same yet different. she’s also grossly in love, though she’s well aware there has been a time she wasn’t. also little extra bits of the whole Process because i can and they’re cute

“how about another spring song?” the creative director suggests and minah is quick to agree.

sure, she has some thoughts on that statement. the expected release date they gave her is late may, pushing near the end of spring but she can’t say she’s surprised. sure, these songs usually do best around early to mid april, when spring is fresh and the temperatures are slowly creeping up together with the bloom of flowers but she wagers that either bc doesn’t give her solo comeback enough priority over whatever else is planned earlier in the year or they’re aiming to recreate the same effect ‘hopefully sky’ had. 

it’s kind of ironic, minah thinks, the implied image of a late bloomer bc throws in her lap. 

she doesn’t mind it, it kind of suits her in ways.

➽───────────────❥

being informed that she will be working with the same producer she worked on for ‘hopefully sky’ and ‘being there’ only further confirms minah’s suspicions, they’re fully intending to let her stick to her niche. it’s not a bad thing persé, she likes her music, she likes the producer, the whole process will undoubtedly be a delight. but paired with the fact she had been purposely left out of writing for her debut album last fall, minah can’t help but feel bc doesn’t yet trust her quite enough. not enough to write on something important as an album, not enough to write on something she hasn’t done before.

which just means she has to prove herself.

when minah shows up for their first studio session, she shows up prepared, reaching for the acoustic guitar kept in one of the corners of the room

one eyebrow of the producer quirks up. “were you asked to compose it yourself? i thought i was, that’s why i prepared some things-”

minah just shakes her head, smiling serenely. “i wasn’t. but i have something i want to let you hear regardless.”

the guitar parts aren’t all that much, no bells or whistles. but minah likes to think that’s their charm. her instrumentals never are too flashy, not taking the foreground but instead serving as a gentle, guiding hand. the strums and chords are meant to be a base, to frame and support her voice rather than to be the main attraction.

the simple melody reminds her a lot of her busking days back in busan. sure, for the most parts she played and sang popular songs, ones that would be recognized by passersby and hopefully bring a smile to her face. but when things were slower, wen there weren’t as many people around, minah could spend stretches and stretches of time playing around with chords, improvising their structure as she went, their gentle hum to fill the silence until people came by again. it was a comforting sound, a comforting feeling.

of course, this time it’s not mere improvising, not tangent of chords that escape her memory the moment they fade out into the air around them but it still feels that way as she plays the song for the producer, a light-hearted, warm feeling teaching from her fingertips to her chest. 

when she finishes the song, minah puts the guitar beside her again, looking expectantly at the producer. “it’s not a full song-” she starts, sentence trailing off, searching for some sign of approval or dismissal, whatever comes first, whatever will tell her if she was right to go out on a limb.

“it’s not.” the producer agrees with a nod. “but it could be.” another beat of silence. “it will be when i turn it into one.”

the excited squeal that escapes minah is one of victory.

➽───────────────❥

“you know, i already wrote lyrics to go with it too.” minah brings up a little while later, by now both of them with a cup of coffee in their hands, having spent the last hour or so properly writing down the guitar part she had played earlier and fiddling with ideas how to expand on it.

“well why didn’t you say so earlier, go ahead, i’m listening.” 

so minah quickly pulls out the piece of paper the lyrics are written down on. they’re her words, she has sung them a few times but she doesn’t feel confident enough in her memory to do it entirely by heart just yet. 

she picks the guitar up again from where she had left it, leaning against the side of the table, placing her fingers against the fingerboard and strumming the strings, playing the same chords she had played before but this time accompanied by her voice. 

i think spring is coming again almost sick of the cherry blossoms once again, i face a lonely season as the wind blows

in terms of sound, the song sounds as warm and comforting as it’s spiritual predecessors ‘hopefully sky’ and ‘being there’ had, the sweet, family-girl charm minah had initially wrapped the general public around her finger with. lyrically, however, the tone is a bit more somber, lonely and longing for the happiness her surroundings seem to have found. it puts it smack in the middle of both her self-written songs from last summer and the tone of her first album and her portal collab with daisuke from last winter. a pretty clever way to bring together the two sides of her sound she has released so far if she says so herself.

that flower is so pretty, it makes me lonely that couple is smiling so brightly making me so sad why is it so beautiful? why am i jealous? everything’s spring spring spring but me

of course, the lyrics are hardly relevant for minah in the moment. she is entering her second spring together with jiah, their relationship having started roughly a year ago, when spring was creeping up on them much like it is now. 

but feelings didn’t need to be lived to write about them right, to be able to convey them all the same. minah’s entire ‘epilogue’ had been drenched in the sorrow of heartbreak while she was on cloud nine. much the same applied to this song, there is none of the longing for a spring romance, not when she has all of that right in the palm of her hands already, not when she gets to wake up stroking the messy strands of hair out of jiah’s face and kiss the tip of her nose.

you’re spring, spring spring spring you, where did you go? you’re spring, spring spring spring the spring wind is blowing

minah gets it, she really does, why spring is generally seen as a romantic season, the slow bloom of the world stirring awake after the winter. cherry blossoms showers during walks in the parks, couples huddled together due to the last remnants of cold wind. spring is romantic in it’s very existence. it’s soft, it’s comforting, a gentle welcome after the slumber of winter. 

and because of that, jiah is spring too. the pink hues of her flushed cheeks and the radiance of her smile, the tingling sparks of heat left across minah’s skin. she’s warm without ever being overwhelming, like the slowly rising temperatures giving the flowers time to adjust and bloom.

i’m dreaming of a fun love will my sweet love ever come? after another lonely day the wind blows

it hasn’t always been like that though, minah has been familiar enough with the bittersweetness of cherry blossoms. she’s a notorious workaholic after all. for as long as she can remember, she’s always been busy with something, be it her career or her family. it had left ample time for epic romances when she had been far too all over the place to open up her heart and whatever sparks did fly quickly fizzled solely due to the fact minah didn’t have the capacity to nurse a budding romance among everything.

so it isn’t like she doesn’t understand, it wasn’t like she has never kicked the ground scoffing watching the loved-up couples in springtime. minah knows the feeling all too well. so she knows how cathartic songs like this can be. sometimes you just need to be bitter for a bit before carrying on with life.

when the warm spring wind brushes my cheeks will spring come into my frozen heart as well? is it love?

minah has found her own love in the spring, only just a year ago, after watching the seasons slip by so often without much romance of her own. 

so minah hopes. she hopes that anyone who will relate to the song hearing it now will find their own spring love eventually. maybe not this season but possibly next, or the one after that.

even if not for many more springs, with every passing year, they’ll be one spring closer to that, and isn’t that enough reason to keep waiting? 

➽───────────────❥

a few weeks pass after that, minah doesn’t really keep track of the time where is so much she’s doing anyway but sooner or later, she finds the same producer waiting for her after she leaves vocal practice for lipstick’s upcoming comeback. 

“c’mon, i need to steal you away for a second, there is something i want you to listen to.” he explains briefly and minah is quick to follow the familiar path to one of bc’s in-house recording studios. 

of course, she knows this is about her solo comeback. she however doesn’t know if her draft got the bc stamp of approval. she might just as well be faced with an entirely different song.

as she takes a seat in one of the office chairs, the producer pulling up a file on his computer gracefully named ‘the spring’ minah feels pretty sure of her case though.

“i finished your song.” he simply says before pressing play.

it’s her song indeed, both of those parts are true. it’s hers, the familiar guitar strums in the background and a demo of her lyrics on top of it. it’s also a song, a full song this time, the blanks that were still missing from her rough draft filled in. 

minah really likes it.

when the song comes to an end, she turns to the producer and smiles. “i like the accordion.” she laughs. “it’s a nice touch.”

#fmdverification #*:･ﾟ♔– «am i the only one who remembers» // solos. #«the spring // era.»

[little-dragon-stories]

King chap 14

Your life changed completely when from a slave, you became a spy for the king. Will you be able to help him in his fight against slavery before it’s too late and the threat hanging over him comes true?

In this society where love comes after fortune, will your mutual affection be able to flourish?  

Royal au fic pairing female reader and Kwon JiYong

Feat: YoungBae, TaeHyung, MinHo and SeoJoon (just because  I had their face in mind when I pictured their character)

W.C: 4298

Warnings: Smuttish at the beginning (if we can say it like that). Otherwise, angst.

Personal note: This chapter is dense and intense. So many things happens. Buckle up.

Disclaimer: Everything in this story is fictional. There is no research to be politically  accurate or to fit a certain period of time or place. In one word, it’s all invented.

My princess, personal muse editor: thank you for always giving my work a first read. Love you so much. What would I do, without you? <3<3<3<3<3 

Chapitre 14

“You’re ok?” he asked, gently rubbing your arm with his soapy hands.

The room was quiet as if you were the only people awake in the whole kingdom. The only audible noise was the slight lapping of the water when he rinsed his hands in it. You were both in a tub installed in his room. The morning has arrived, warm and lit. JiYong sat behind you, your back leaning against his chest. The sunlight filtered through the diaphanous curtains, revealing a few grains of dust otherwise invisible. The morning must not have been lazy, but he insisted that you take a bath together before he leaves. He stated that he had to take care of you, you certainly won’t complain about it.  

Last night, your first real night together, was magnificent. JiYong, carried away by a consuming passion, went more explosive than he wanted at the start. But you responded so well to his assaults, that he could not resist and had abandoned himself completely in the act. You made love all night, unable to get enough of each other. Each time was always better than the previous time. It was fatigue that won out over your desire in the wee hours of the morning. Sated and very much in love, you have fell asleep in each other’s arms. Despite the heat of this hot night, you couldn’t let go of each other. It would have been even more intolerable.

“Of course, I’m okay”, the back of your head leaning on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and yawn. 

“Oh! No! Because of me, you’re tired this morning. You’re absolutely sure I didn’t hurt you? You’re not sore anywhere?”

You burst into laughters. He was adorable, worrying like that. 

“Aaaw, JiYong, you’re so cute. We slept for not even 2 hours in 2 nights! Of course I’m dead tired. But did you hear me complain? Please, stop worrying.”

“I just want to make sure I haven’t hurt you or…”

You turned around in the small tub and because of the fit space available, you found yourself trapped between his legs. His wet skin felt amazing against yours. You tangled your arms around his neck and leaned over him in a slippery cuddle. His hands glided down your lower back and rested there, lazy and heavy.

“Listen carefully Kwon JiYong. I was there too, last night. I don’t remember asking you to stop. I don’t remember asking you to slow down either. In fact, it’s the opposite, right?” Although you were shy talking about last night, you couldn’t resist nuzzling your nose along the side of his neck. You felt so good in his arms. So good.

“Actually, you’re right! It’s all your fault! Shame on you for asking me more and more…” he joked, relieved. “I love you so much, you insatiable woman. Next time, I’ll make you ask for more again. I’m actually really good at it”. He teased, kissing the top of your shoulder.

“Oh no! I’ve created a monster!” you giggled “but I love this attitude better! Do you think we have time, right now?” you teased, humping against his crotch. You had the impression that in his presence, when you were alone, all respectability would be hard to maintain.

“I think I’ll always have time to make love to you” he said, serious, as his hands framed your face. 

“Oh! That’s promising… Considering how we are leaning, I guess you’ll be the one who begs right now.” you said, your modesty soared as your desire increased.

“I don’t mind at all, love. With you, begging will become my normality”.

And there you were, lazily making love to each other again. Insatiables.

++++++ ++++++ ++++++ ++++++ ++++++ 

“Y/n?”  A joyful voice interrupted your thoughts of the morning. You were happy the little boy couldn’t read your mind.

“Yes little Channie, prince of my heart” you answered lovingly.

“Why do you think it’s a good idea to end slavery?”

The question took you by surprise. This morning, you and him had the idea to write and illustrate a storybook. You had to keep the little boy busy.  While his uncle and Kyo’s were on the run, JiYong preferred if Channie’s contact were reduced to its minimum. He was scared some traitor could be hiding among the staff, as it already happened in the past. You offered to be the one taking care of him during the day. JiYong’s quarters being the safest place in the kingdom, you had stay inside his safe walls. He took no chance when it came to the security of his love ones.

You spend a couple of hours writing short parts of the story, divided into small paragraphs. You took care to leave room enough to paint an image representing the action later on. You were working on your sixth page and you were challenging the little boy to justify the sad ending he wanted for his hero.

“This is a very serious question. Where is it coming from, all of sudden?”

“I had lunch with my father, remember? We had our father and son moment. He told me he was writing a new law. That was just before he spit what he had in his mouth. The new recipe that our cook tested was not good at all” he said, pouting.

You smiled, imagining the prince and the king, spitting their food in front of the helpless servants. 

“Oooh, that must have been funny to watch!” He ignored your comment, already thinking of something else. His mind was constantly racing at high speed.

“Did you know that our new cook is YoungBae’s wife? Father hired her after our food was poisoned last month. She was not a cook at all, she still has to learn but dad said he needed someone trustable in the kitchen. What food do you found absolutely disgusting? What color should we paint the little girl’s dress in our story?”

“Woah! Calm down little boy, I’m befuddled! I’m still processing the cook thing” you laughed.

The queen entered the room and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

“Is my son giving you a hard time, Y/n?” 

“Oh! Yes! He is. I can’t make him stop talking for more than 2 seconds. 

You teased him. You were feeling good today, your heart was light and you were in a playful mode.  Even without having slept very much, you felt beautifully well.

“Then, you should have come and told me. I would have given him a good correction” she played along with you, just before she patted her son’s hair. She had cried, it was evident. Her eyes were red and puffy.

The three of you spent a few minutes chatting together, she listened carefully to the story her son had invented with your help. She smiled and congratulated his creative side. The servant came and served you some tea and cut fruits. Before they left, the prince asked them where his father was and if he was busy. He felt the urge to discuss the storyline with him, apparently.

“Prince JiChan, your father was alone in the executive room an hour ago, writing important documents”.

“Oooh, alone in the executive room, you said?” the queen asked, smirking in your direction. “I believe he’s struggling and wouldn’t mind a little helping hand” she adds.

“He was writing meticulously, Mama, he seemed just fine.”

As soon as you were alone again, she invited you to go and surprised him.

“Go meet him Y/n, he would be so pleased. I’m sure he’s thinking of you anyway and can’t write anything” she adds, teasingly. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the queen pushing you in her husband’s arms. 

“You have a good idea actually. You don’t mind staying with Channie?”

“Of course not, I’m his mother after all. Go, right now, before one of his annoying counselor arrives before you”

You wasted no time. It was at a run that you crossed the bridge on stilts.The warm season was expanding, not ready to give way to the fall. Some flowers had wilted, replaced by a whole new vegetation, less varied but just as colorful. A thin proof that the fall was coming soon.

Arriving at the destination, you smiled and bowed at the guards standing by the exterior door. They let you in without a single question, lowering their heads when you greeted them.  You took a deep breath to try and calm your heart that was beating too fast, excited to see JiYong again soon. The night had been perfect and the morning just as wonderful. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared you for so much happiness.  You wanted to thank him for that. And tell him again that you love him, because he seemed so shocked when you told him you loved him too. Almost in disbelief. Almost like if it was impossible for someone to love him for who he really was. You’ll remind him that you love him every single day from now on, you promised yourself that. 

You had no intention of spying on him. That’s absolutely not what you wanted to do. You just wanted to surprise him, to hug him from behind as he would continue working and steal a kiss, maybe two. But to do that, you had to sneak in, didn’t you? You couldn’t show up if someone was in the room.

Smiling gleefully and your heart threatening to explode in your chest, you took two small steps forward. The idea of cuddling him, breathing in his neck made you happy. You slowly walked towards the screen that was hiding the secret back door. When you heard him talk, you moved backwards, your plans had failed. You couldn’t move, talk or even breathe anymore when you recognised the voice of the man he was talking with.

“... of course, I knew you wouldn’t believe me, Cheon ha. But I’m telling you the truth”.

MinHo. Jang MinHo was here, talking with JiYong. What was going on? This is impossible, you must be dreaming. You never thought you would hear this voice ever again, you didn’t want to. Petrified, you wanted to leave, to run away from your ex-master but you were unable to move, frozen on the spot. Your heart was already beating fast, it was now threatening to come out of your chest. Anxious, scared, you couldn't think of a good reason for him to be here.

“I don’t believe it because it’s not the truth MinHo.”

“I haven’t seen Kwon SoYoung in years, believe it or not, majesty. But I heard there's a warrant for his and Kyo’s arrest. What did they do?”

“I have no intention to discuss it with you”.

“Well then, unless you have reconsidered your position about the offer I made, I guess I’ll be going back”.

“Don’t you dare declare that the discussion is over. Are you greater than the king, now? Until I give the order, you will remain here and answer my questions, as the low cast that you are. Did I make myself clear?” he hissed, losing his calm. 

Jiyong’s voice was openly hostile, he did not hide his hatred for his interlocutor. Belittling him like you’ve never seen him belittle anyone. A surprised murmur rose from the room. So they weren't alone, the guards were protecting him, YoungBae being never far from the king. Swallowing his pride, MinHo continued.

“You didn’t like the offer I made, majesty? I wonder why.  It was a generous one, if you’d ask me”.

“Generous? Let me laugh. Generous for who?”

“For SeoJon, of course” he mispronounced “I bet he was mad that you refused to welcome his wife and their baby. Such a small creature, you are heartless, majesty. I am sure you have regretted your decision”. 

Hearing it, you fell on your knees, in disbelief. He couldn't have refused to welcome them, he was the one who said to SeoJoon that it was inhuman to be seperate from his loved ones. There must have been an explanation, but what could it possibly be? 

“The audacity you have. If you would have been so generous, you would have sent them here on the first place, without trying to trade them”. He was furious. You know him, you know that tone is more than just cold. He was pissed. 

“It’s my father who picked the slaves for you majesty. Not me. I wouldn’t have picked those three”.

“Yes, I figured. I wonder why” he answered, sarcastic.

You were curious, you needed to know what was this offer MinHo made to the king. Why did JiYong refuse HyunSa and MiNa? So many questions were coming in your mind, so many possible scenarios.

“Jang MinHo, not only did I refuse your deal, but I also commanded that you will give me Master SeoJoon’s wife and daughter. You disobeyed my order. Because of that, you will be punished”

“I told you majesty, I would gladly give them back to you in exchange for Y/n, I was even giving you 5 more men, but you refused”

“WHAT?” you heard yourself asked out loud. Stupefied, you walked towards them, the screen falling on the ground on your way.

“Y/n?” JiYong asked, genuinely surprised to see you here. 

“What did he just say?” you asked your king, dumbfounded.

“Y/n? Is that really you?” MinHo was stupefied. You have changed so much, he had to look at you twice to make sure it was really you.   

“Y/n” the king’s tone was serious and commanding, he never used that tone with you before “Go back in the study room please. I’ll come back and explain later”.

He wanted you to leave, to run away as far as possible from your ex-master. Knowing you might feel distressed right now, he wanted you to stay away from the bad souvenir. His biggest fear was taking place right in front of his eyes and he was under the impression that everything that you had built together was about to be shattered. But for now, it was not the right time to think about it. It was time to take action. 

“No, no, majesty. I would love to hear what she has to say. But first, why is she here, in the royal executive room? How come, the king himself needs to justify his decisions to his staff member, even as beautiful as her? This is interesting” MinHo was having a blast. 

His viscous eyes were on you, since the second you arrived in the room. His mind tuned out of his surroundings and focused only on you. Everything else in the background became muffled sounds and patterns he couldn't make any sense of. In another context, he wouldn’t have recognised you. You’ve gained a few kilograms, you gained some colors on your cheeks as well and you didn’t have those blue circles under your eyes anymore. Your skin was now free of scratches or injuries, at least the exposed skin he could see.  With those ladies’s clothes and combed hair, you looked like a real lady, now. So different than when you were on the plantation. So appealing, he was enthralled by your beauty. He was already convinced that you should return to the plantation but to see you like that, he knew that his obsession would not diminish, that it will even get stronger. Until you were between his legs, where you belong.

Oh! He have tried sex with other slaves, he did. He tried the same positions, the same acts. He used the same words. He even called you by your name, sometimes as he closed his eyes. He understood really soon that none of them would ever be able to replace you, no matter how hard they tried to satisfy his needs. Because none of them was you. It became an obsession. He had to get you back. You were in front of him, so close but still untouchable. Now he had to make you come back to him at all cost.  Even if he loses everything he owns. He will make you his, again. 

“What was the offer, sir? Tell me, please. I want to hear it from you”. You begged your king, shaking from head to toes. Your voice was trembling and your lips threatening to turn blue. You couldn’t have heard correctly.  

It’s MinHo that answered, more than happy to have created a situation.

“Let me light up your mind, Y/n. 

“Shut up, MinHo” JiYong said.

“Like I was just saying, the first week after you were brought here, I sent a written offer to our beloved majesty. You, back in the plantation, against SeoJon’s wife, son and I was even willing to give our majesty, 5 more men in the process. But without a reason, he refused''.

“Are you telling me that I am here, living the best life possible and that because of me, HyunSa and MiNa are deprived from their husband and father? I could have made the reunion possible just by going back on the plantation?” you asked, outraged.

JiYong ignored your comment.

“I didn’t just refuse, I ordered you to liberate them immediately but you lied to me and said they were in HyunSa’s family, which I know wasn’t the truth. And by the way, it’s a daughter they have and her name is baby MiNa.”

“This is such a futile detail”.

“Take me now!  Bring me back there, right now!” You interrupted their dialogue. You became suddenly unable to think straight. You were scared to go back there, petrified. You didn’t want to leave JiYong behind, you don’t think you would be able to live without him anymore. You didn’t want to hurt him either but in your head, there was no other option. It was your happiness against your friend’s. You were so torn, it twisted your stomach.

“Y/n!” the king anxiously called your name until you looked at him. “It’s not your decision to make. Go back to the study room, please. Right now”. He was more ordering than asking. Everything in his tone hinted to you that he was not gonna accept anything but your obedience.

“Please?? Since when a king nicely asks something to his subordinate? This is interesting” 

You didn’t listen to your king, you walked towards your ex-master, willing to follow him. Scared, sad, mad. A mixture of emotions invading you. You looked above your shoulder, to have a last image of the man you will always love. Your eyes met his and you could read fear in his beautiful face. You know, he’s trying to communicate something through his eyes, but the message, unlike normally, didn’t reach you. You didn’t want him to be sad, you didn’t want things to end like this with him. Were you ever destined to be happy? With every passing day, you thought this happiness was finally possible. Is everything you built here, will end like this? Are you gonna screw everyone’s happiness, everywhere you go?

Until today, your biggest wish was for Seo to be reunited with his wife and daughter, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than that. With your hands trembling, you walked towards Jang MinHo. The further you went, the more your chin sank into your neck, moved by an ancient reflex. You paused, thinking of JiYong too. His happiness too, has become your priority, now. Little Channie too, you love him so much. You didn’t want to leave him, them. You didn’t want to make JiYong sad.  What to do? You froze completely, shocked. It was like your body was not responding anymore, like you had dozed off. 

“Y/n, come back here. Don’t you dare, interfere in this”. JiYong was panicking. Every fiber in his body was on high alert. That didn’t make you come back or continue to walk towards MinHo. You were half way between the two men. Unsure about what to do,

“Well, majesty, isn’t her decision? She wants to come back to the plantation, isn’t it what you want, that people can choose for themself?” MinHo provoked the king, openly.

“Jang MinHo, you will leave my court right now and you’ll have to pay me with 20 slaves for disobeying my previous orders, that includes MiNa and HyunSa. I want them both alive, that goes without saying.”

You were not able to think clear, the words JiYong just said rang no bell at all.  A new thought came into your mind. Suddenly, anger invades you. Baby MiNa and HyunSa, your best friend, could have been here already and JiYong refused it. He never mentioned it either. You felt betrayed by the man who said he loves and trusts you. He hid important information from you, information that could’ve changed the course of history for your friends. You could’ve played an important role, allowing their reunion. But Jiyong prevented you. You don’t think you can ever forgive that lie. He didn’t trust you enough to involve you and it broke your heart in two.

“I’m going with him, I’m sorry, sir’ you said to your king. “I want Seo to have his wife and daughter here when he’ll be back. If it’s the only solution, I’ll do it, I’ll sacrifice my own happiness for theirs. I’m so sorry”  Silent tears went down your chin.

“Y/n, it’s not the only solution, Think about it, I’m begging you. Y/n, come here. Right now” he urged. “This is my decision to make, not yours and my decision is final. You come back here’ he said, noticing you were not moving an inch.

‘No” You noticed that a guard has followed you, a hand on his sword. He was getting close to you, waiting for further orders.

MinHo burst out with a big fake laugh, amused. He always loved conflicts.

“I can see that the rumor was true, I couldn't believe it when it came to my ears. Guess what, majesty? There is a rumor that a slave has passed directly from dirt to the king’s bed. Some even go so far as to say that the king refuses his courtesans, now. One mocks the queen, saying that the slave must have certain talents that the queen does not possess. Is that slave our beautiful Y/n? Are you, using my leftovers, majesty?”

“You son of a dog!” JiYong said, angry. His face was red, his heartbeat pulsed at his temples. He was about to lose it. 

“MinHo, you give me your word that you’ll send them here if I follow you?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes, something you have never the courage to do before but with JiYong close, you found the strength. 

“Of course, sweetheart” he purred, reaching a hand to grab you. But JiYong was determined not to let it happen. This man will never touch you again. And you’ll never go back to the plantation. He stood up, his guards circling him automatically. He went straight in front of you, protecting you with his whole body. He clung you a little bit abruptly and dragged you behind him. You tried to protest but he held you back. A guard grabbed you by the waist and kept you from moving. JiYong’s anger was manifest.

“Leave me alone” you told the guard.

“Y/n, go back to the study room. Now”. He ordered you, looking straight at MinHo’s face. He won’t turn his back from him.

“I can’t do that and you know why. Also, you lied to me…. I want my friend’s family to be reunited. If I have to sacrifice myself, I’ll do it” you stated guided by a strong will to help.

“That’s what I thought. YoungBae, pick the best guards to escort her in the study room” he ordered “and make sure she stays there. Use all strategies you have to use. You hear me? Whatever it takes, do it. But she has to stay there. She may try to escape and it would put her life in danger”

“We can use force against her, sir?” A designed guard asked, uncomfortably stepping from one foot to another.

“If you have to tie her down or put her in jail, do it. Otherwise she might try to escape. Watch out, she’s clever”. He knew you would be mad at him. But he had no choice. Until he can come and talk to you, explain, you’ll put yourself in danger.

MinHo laughed and this time, it was a real laughter. 

“I cannot believe it” you said “’I’m so pissed right now. You, don’t you dare touch me” you told the guard when he wanted to escort you.

“I’ll be back soon, Y/n. We’ll talk then” The king said.

You served him a cold look and turned around on your heels, suddenly able to move. You didn’t want the guards to touch you, it always made you uncomfortable when a stranger did. Everybody except JiYong.  You left, escorted by 6 armed guards. You were not happy to be treated like a prisoner and you shown them.

“I will follow, there is no need to touch me” You told the guards.  Although the situation was a nightmare, JiYong was happy to see your fighting attitude. The first time he met you, you wouldn't have react like that. You would have done whatever your master or boss would have asked without questioning it. Now, you were fierce and you seemed strong. That made him happy and proud. Now, he only hopes that you will forgive him, for the whole situation.

“Now, it’s between you and me,” JiYong told MinHo just before you leaved, escorted.

#jiyong kwon jiyong #kwon ji yong #jiyong scenario #bigbang #bigbang scenario #Gd #Gd serie #Gd scenario #Gd smut #Gd angst #G dragon #G dragon angst #G dragon serie #G dragon scenario #Jiyong serie #Bigbang serie

[reddie-fangirl24]

Eddie, The Patient Chapter 3     (A Reddie Fanfiction)

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

“It’s an improv line ‘cause the first time I ever used ‘I forgot the joke’ well, you see, I actually forgot the joke and to save myself I said that I was kidding and kept going with my routine! Some audience members gave me a hard time, but it turns out that I fooled them and then they actually wrote to me apologizing!”

“That’s a funny story, Mr. Tozier,” the host laughed with him. Then she turned and looked into the camera. “We’re going to take a break now, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll be back with a Day in the Life of Comedians.”

Standing up, and taking a breath, Richie stepped away from the set. No matter what, all those studio lights felt like a thousand degrees! Richie shook hands with his contender, Jack. Tonight they’d be battling off left and right with jokes. And this show interview they were filming would air in a week or so.

“Great job, Rich!” His manager, Steve gave him a pat on the back. “Except, I thought we were talking about not bringing that story up.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “So, what’s it gonna do? I’m just trying to show the real me!”

“Yes, and I agree, but I’m afraid that sharing the ‘I forgot the joke’ story could mean that you stumble your routines. You want big audiences out there don’t you, Rich?”

“Steve, just let me handle things, please? Remember what I said? And writing some of my own material has been working!” Richie walked off in a huff. Grabbing a glass of water that a stagehand offered to him, Richie walked outside for some needed air, and to wipe to the sweat off.

Ever since he told his boss that he was going to start writing his own material for shows, he felt as if his career was going in a better direction than it ever was. Eddie was right. He just needed that extra ounce of confidence that he lost. 

Thinking ahead to tonight, the crowd was still building up. Not only was he doing the comedy show with Jack, but another comedian who has been all around the world with her act. And she even called out Richie once! Oh, time for some good old revenge burn.

Feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket, Richie could only guess that it was Steve calling him back to rehearsal. Couldn’t he get a moment’s peace?

But it wasn’t Steve.

No name. Just numbers. But it was coming from right here in L.A.

Gulping, Richie flashed back to the moment where he got the call from Mike Hanlon. The call that changed his life making him step back into the nightmare from his childhood. Then again, he had to admit, that the battle changed everything for the better. 

Feeling his heart pounding, and his stomach nervously grumbled from his nerves, Richie took a deep breath. This always happened to him when a wrong number called. If it was a wrong number. 

Taking a deep breath, Richie answered the call. “H-Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Richard Tozier?” A woman asked him. 

What was this, a prank call? Nobody ever called him by his full name. “Uh, yeah, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier at your service!” Richie went with his usual intro to break some of his lingering nerves.

“Yes, hello, this is Ruth Alliston, the principal of Hathaway Middle School,” the woman’s voice said. “I’m calling to inform you that your husband is sick and I was wondering if you could come and take him home. I tried calling a couple of your mutual friends, but I couldn’t get a hold of them.”

His heart throbbing, Richie grasped the railing holding himself up. He accidentally knocked the glass of water off the railing, sending it smashing to the ground. Not once since Eddie started his teaching job did they ever call him for something like this. Did he just hear her right? Eddie. His Eddie? Sick? 

“Wait, wait, hold on! What do you mean you called other mutuals? You’re supposed to call me first, damn it!” Richie snapped at her, clutching at his phone.

The woman sighed, obviously sounding frazzled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tozier, but Eddie gave my specific instruction not to call you. Once I couldn’t get a hold of um,” she paused, turning pages. “Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough I knew that I had no choice but to call you. Oh, he’s very sick with a fever of over one hundred and needs to be taken home.”

Clawing at his hair, Richie mumbled to himself pacing the fire escape. Why was he always out here when got news like this? Of course. Of course, Eddie had to act like he was fine. You should have said something, man! “Um, yeah, you got it. I’ll be there.”

“Oh, wonderful, thank you, sir.” Mrs. Alliston sounded relieved. “Not to worry, he’s asleep right now. The worst seems to have passed.”

The worst? “Thanks, see you later,” Richie said as smoothly as he could. Hanging up the phone, Richie hurried back inside. Goddamn it, Eddie! Of course, you had to act like you were fine! You should have said something, man!

“Rich, where have you been? We’re going to start up again in five minutes!” Steve chewed him out, placing a hand on his shoulder, as he tried to keep up with Richie’s fast pace.

“Steve, I have to go!” Richie protested, hurriedly walking to the elevator.

“Go? Go where? We’re in the middle of taping an interview!” Steve argued with him, gesturing to the set. Jack overheard the situation and turned and looked at them in worry.

“It’s an emergency!” Richie said, pressing the elevator button furiously. 

“Can you tell me? Are we going to have to reschedule everything?” Steve prodded him.

Richie nodded feverishly, watching the floor numbers change. Why were elevators so slow when you needed them? “Yeah, let’s do that. I need to get over to Hathaway Middle School now! Eddie is sick!”

For a moment, Steve didn’t say anything. He noticed that Steve wasn’t that fond of Eddie whenever he was around. Still, he did his best to make polite conversation. “Right. How are you going to get over there? Barry is not available for the rest of the morning.”

Shit! How else was he supposed to get over to the school? It would take at least an hour on foot. And he had to figure out a way to get Eddie home without making him sicker. 

“Can I call you a taxi?” Steve suggested.

Of course! He felt so out of it that he couldn’t think straight. That was when the elevator door opened. “Yeah, thanks!” Richie smiled, despite himself, as he entered the crowded elevator. Ugh, somebody had stinky pits today.

“Rich, call me with an update! You should be back here by 5:00 tonight!” Steve called out to him just as the elevator doors closed. 

Waiting out by the curb and listening to the busy traffic, Richie took a moment to breathe and get his thoughts together. How could he let something like this happen? Besides the distraction with the car, did he really let the excitement of work get in the way? That was so stupid of him! Eddie was way more important! 

He knew something wasn’t right about Eddie’s behavior, but what did he do? Drive off. How could he ever ignore him like that? How could he... forget to think about Eddie? No wonder Eddie was acting so strangely. The uneaten bowl of cereal, barely saying a word and struggling to do a simple task like walking.

Smiling, Richie couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Eddie had always been an extreme germaphobe. Back when they were students, Eddie washed down every desk before sitting in them during the flu season.

Richie even reminded him about kids getting sick easily when he was studying to become a teacher. Eddie rubbed it off like it was nothing, saying that he was full of bologna. After the first three weeks of teaching, Eddie was complaining about the number of students who were sick with colds. It was funny. But, not now.

He was just hoping that this wasn’t too serious. Whenever Eddie was sick, or he himself, they’d snuggle together. Eddie was always so doting, dropping everything to take care of him. That was the best. He could only guess how much of a helicopter husband he must have been when Eddie had the slightest cold. It was out of love anyway.

In that instant, Richie felt a sting in his gut, realizing how little time they’d spent together as of recently. When was the last time they took a walk around the neighborhood? Or went out for a drink? Or even just stayed inside watching TV? It felt like the only time they ever spent together was cuddling up when they went to bed at night. Only they were asleep. 

Whenever he had nights off, they went to the movies. Sometimes they were the loudest in the theater because they loved to laugh and argue over their own commentary of the film.

And to think we used to spend a few times a week making love... when was the last time we did that?!

It was tough working around his schedule. He worked at night while Eddie worked during the day. Even weekends didn’t supply them with enough time together. Now, he felt lucky that he wasn’t away on a trip. Then what would have happened? 

Richie slid a hand over his face, looking up towards the peaceful sky. To think it wasn’t even noon. Oh well, there was no used dwelling over it all now. Eddie needed him.

Finally, the taxi pulled up and Richie got into the back seat in a hurry.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” The cab driver roared with a smile. His little mustache creased along his upper lip whenever he smiled. “I never thought I’d be hauling Richie Tozier in the back of my taxi! I have to get a picture and frame it!”

“Yeah, later, man! I need to get over to Hathaway Middle school, now!” Richie ordered, waving him off.

“Sure, do the kids want your autograph?” The driver pulled out into the road. Traffic was bad already. Cars honking. The light turning red at the wrong moment. It was never like this. 

Richie nervously sat forward, thumping his hand on the seat, unable to relax. “I wish! It’s my h-husband, Eddie. He’s sick. And guess whose car decided to that it didn’t wanna work properly today? Did you guess me? Good for you, you won a ride with me!” Richie joked, pointing at himself.

Of course, he had to stumble over that word. He still wasn’t used to being out to the public, having ignored and feared to be gay for decades. His announcement had some negative feedback, but he felt happier than he ever did before. Especially with Eddie.

“Oh man, poor guy. The flu is terrible at this time of year. You’re a good husband, you know that?” The cab driver complimented turning back to look at him. “I remember when I showed up to work sick once, I worked in an auto place, and then my wife showed up telling me, ‘I told you so!’”

Richie laughed along, half embarrassed. He took a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah, I’m the man, what can I say?”

The cab driver laughed heartily. “I’ll have you over to the school as soon as I can.”

While making small conversation and jokes with the cab driver, whose name was Harry, the ride felt long. Too long.  Why were there so many red lights today? And did people forget how to cross the street? Richie wanted to beep the horn to get this guy who was staring at his cell phone to pay attention.

Guilt hammered itself into Richie’s heart. Looking out at the passing city, Richie tried to take his mind off everything, to no avail. Don’t worry, Eds, I’m on my way.

And finally, the cab showed up at the school. Before the car even stopped, Richie threw open the door, running out. “Hey, thanks, sorry for being impatient. I wish I could give you that picture, but I don’t have time!”

“Do you want me to wait for you?” The cab driver asked him.

Richie blinked, turning back in his tracks. “Uh... I could be a while.”

“I’m used to waiting,” he said sincerely. “Don’t you think it’ll be tough trying to get another taxi? It’ll be the lunch run in a bit.”

That’s right! Guess he never turned his brain on this morning. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll be right back!” Richie said as he flung up the staircase to the school like a rabbit.

Entering the school, Richie hadn’t roamed school hallways since he graduated from high school. Richie cringed at the thought of being back in another middle school. If it weren’t for his friends, he would never have gotten through school. He bet his dad that he could get a career out of being a comedian without going to college. Richie was still swimming in that money.

Finding the office, the instant the secretary noticed him, she almost fell out of her seat, adjusting her eyeglasses. “Richie Tozier! I was not expecting you today! My son is a big fan!” she chirped as her cheeks grew red. 

Richie smirked, winking at her, obviously enjoying the attention. Still, he had to stay focused. “Wish I could be here for better circumstances. I need to take Eddie home.”

The secretary’s face immediately softened, cracking into a heartbreaking sad frown. “Oh, the poor guy. He looked as pale as a ghost when Mrs. Alliston brought him back here. I sure hope he is going to be okay. He is a sweetheart.”

Although his heart cracked at the awful thought of Eddie’s condition, Richie leaned against the counter trying to make the secretary smiled. “You got that right! Except when he’s cranky. Some mornings he is a real joy to wake up to because he tells me that I snore!”

Laughing, the secretary paged the principal. “Okay, I’ll send him back. Go on, Ruth is waiting for you,” she said getting up from her seat and opening the door to the main office.

Richie went on his way, winking at her again. “Thanks. Oh, and I own you an autograph!”

Walking into the back office, Richie met the principal, who stepped out from her office with a wide grin happily shaking his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Tozier. Eddie has talked a lot about you.”

“Oh yeah, I hope it’s all good things!” Richie teased.

“Don’t worry. He loves talking about you. Don’t tell him I said this but sometimes the way he talks about you makes me think of him like a school girl! It’s quite amusing!”

Crossing his fingers, Richie was just seconds away from bursting into laughter. Definitely worth a save for teasing which was basically all they did. “So, where is he anyway?”

Her face turned back to worry, leading Richie down a small corridor of the office. “He’s asleep in the nurse’s office. The poor thing, when I went to put his belongings on a chair next to the bed he didn’t even stir.”

Guilt-ridden, Richie almost stumbled into a wall. “Jeez...”

“He’s in here,” she said indicating to a room with the lights out. “His belongings are on a chair next to the bed. If I’m right, the poor dear is still asleep. You’re going to have to wake him up.”

Richie waved it off like it was nothing. “Even if I tiptoe it wakes him up and he lectures me!” He snickered.

Mrs. Alliston laughed as she walked away. “Eddie is right. You are a card!”

“A real comedian, I am!” Richie joked as his hand fell on the door. He gingerly turned the knob and slowly opened the door. The room was dark, with the only source of light protruding from the covered windows. Once his eyes adjusted, it took a moment to find the bed. Once he did, Richie came across the small, thin form of his husband sleeping soundly on the nurse’s bed in the corner of the room, with a trash can pulled up near the bed. 

Feeling his heart drop into his stomach, his legs shaking, Richie exhaled and came into the room, closing the door just a smidge. Sure enough, Eddie was fast asleep, hardly making a noise. If it weren’t for the minute rise and fall from his chest, Eddie would have looked...

No... he couldn’t think that.

Richie quietly walked into the room, and slowly sat down on the bad. Eddie hardly stirred, sleeping peacefully. For a little bit, Richie sat there, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, letting him sleep a few more minutes. That gave him the time to study how sick he was. Even in this dim lighting, he could tell how sickly pale Eddie was.

For a moment he thought that he was back in the hospital, holding Eddie’s frail hand when the doctors notified them how they weren’t sure if Eddie would make it through the night. But, Eddie showed who was stronger.

Thinking back to the call, the realization that Eddie was sick and the fact that he didn’t even want to call him first Richie’s grip tightened. Richie couldn’t blame him. Eddie felt himself like he was a burden due to the years of being berated about every little thing he did. 

Oh, course he wouldn’t tell me. He thinks that vain in my head would pop!

Leaning down, Richie kissed his forehead, tasting the sweat rolling down his warm pale face. The worry and guilt set in even further, causing his grip to tighten. He had to get Eddie home now.

“And you thought I wouldn’t come help you, huh? Man, you’re crazy!” he whispered in a loud voice to his sleeping husband as he prepared to wake him up.

#Reddie #Reddie Fanfiction #IT Fanfiction #IT Movie #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #sick fic #cab #It 2017 #IT Stephen King #It Chapter 2

[amegatronfan]

Jame Roberts’ Instagram Q&A -November ‘18

Right. 

So.

- Back in MTMTE #15, when the original Rewind got locked in the Slow Cell with Overlord, he suddenly learned how to shrink while he transformed. This was not an ability he previously had, as shown in, for example, MTMTE #2, when Tailgate sees Rewind for the first time (before Swerve introduces him to CDRW) and remarks that he can see a “giant memory stick” in the distance. However, the fear that Rewind felt in that moment triggered his ability to shrink to the size we see him in, like, LL #25, for example. This helps him survive both Overlord and the shots fired off by Chromedome, and so he, along with Overlord, is recovered by the Galatic Council. Overlord is seen as too dangerous, so Rewind is chosen as the guinea pig for an experiment the Galatic Council are trialling; an experiment that would allow them to “punch holes” into alternate universes. Since they want to use Rewind as a weapon against the Black Block Consortia (and other enemies of the council, such as other Cybertronians), the technology is built into a suit of armour meant to resemble Primus (this suit of armour was built in the same vein as the Magnus armour, in that it made so that a small robo could pretend to be this big, famous robo and not, like, the sentai suit dealio I had originally envisioned when JRo was describing this. this was done because they rightly assumed that seeing Primus land in the middle of a battlefield would scare the royal shit out of everybody, most especially other Cybertronians, who have the cultural context to know who the fuck he is.) 

So, then, it worked, and Rewind made it into the past?? of another dimension (that wasn’t the Functionist universe), but then it malfunctioned and he got trapped there. He had fight his way back to the original universe by travelling through a bunch of other alternative universes (there would have been an interlude during the Mutineers Trilogy where we saw Rewind 1 travelling through the Marvel 2006 universe). At first, he was travelling back to the OG universe was so he could be reunited with his conjux (he met other Chromedome's along the way, but he wanted to find his Chromedome), but as he was travelling, he discovered Chromedome’s secret; that he had helped in the cover-up of Dominus’ murder, and so it became more complicated (he kinda wanted to avenge Dominus.) This would’ve all culminated in an issue where Rewind 1 finally made it back the original universe. As has been previously established, only one Rewind can exist at the one time, so Chromedome would've had to decide which Rewind would be cancelled out, all while Rewind 2 (and by extension, the audience) would’ve learned from Rewind 1 what Chromedome did to Dominus, which would’ve complicated things even further.

JRo came up with this idea before he began writing MTMTE, but by the end of season one, he was starting to become uncertain about this particular storyline, as Rewind, Chromedome and their relationship began to develop. Having Chromedome do this to Rewind started to feel wrong. After talking to his editor at the time (Carlos, I believe?), he decided to leave in the scene with Chromedome and Prowl, where Prowl threatened blackmail and Chromedome used Shadowplay to erase the blackmail from his memory, just in case he still wanted to go through with it. However, by the time it came to the final stretch of issues, he already so many other plot points to introduce, explain and tie up, he didn’t have time to do all three for Rewind 2 and his ultra-complicated, high concept adventures, and deal with the complications it brought with it to the cast, so he was forced to drop it.

So, with that out of the way, here are the more breezy answers:

- Megatron didn’t have a mentor who taught him medicine in the Warren, he taught himself everything he knows about treating people because he’s “the most ferocious autodidact.” (i stan a legend)

- Ratchet would still be the better medic though

- Megatron specialised in neurology

- Flame survived the events of LL #24

- The only reason Functionist Universe! Orion and Terminus were killed was because of time restraints 

- Making Drift and Ratchet’s relationship a romantic one started feeling right around their return in the Remain in the Light arc, but JRo didn’t really decide that they were definitely conjux endura until he began writing LL #25 

- Rewind’s colour changing pants are now (dubiously) canon (”Chromedome is fascinated; he might be an outlier.”)

- Admitted a couple of times, once again, that he wished he hadn’t killed Trailcutter 

- If a Cybertronian is gifted a vial of innermost energon and survives whatever near-fatal injury or illness they had, they have the option to either keep it, as a reminder of the love they and the donor share, or they can regift the donor’s innermost energon to them. If they do indeed die, the most common practice is to donate the innermost energon (as Ratchet did posthumously in #25)

- “Sorry, I’ve seen ‘Chromedome is a bottom’ on the screen and that’s thrown me.”

- When asked if he’d change anything if given the opportunity to rewrite the series, he admitted that there were “a bunch of things”, which included:

    * Spacing out events more, most especially near the beginning of MTMTE,            where so much was happening that it all felt “a bit busy”, and the Crucible           arc

    * Writing more stories about the tertiary cast (eg. Spotlight: Hoist) to really            sell the fact that this was a ship with 200 mechs on board (the main cast            would still have had their own quirky adventures going on in the                          background)

                * An example of such a story would’ve been having an issue focusing                    on the writer behind the Lost Light Insider

    * More stories with the Mutineer’s

    * Give the Scavengers an entire tradeback to themselves in Season 3,                  encompassing an entire arc he’d had planned for them

     * He wouldn’t have “decapitated Red Alert like that” 

     * Having the charisma parasites being followed up by Swearth “didn’t do              him any favours as they were three very high concept issues one after the          other”

      * Would’ve seeded more mentions of the Guiding Hand in MTMTE (though             not in Lost Light, which had enough, he felt)

      * More Star Saber (longer fights with different characters)

      * Way more Roller!

      * Show Cyclonus’ recovery from his injuries in #47 more as more of a slow,          arduous process instead of an “Oh, he’s fine now” dealio

      * Would’ve liked to pull off the Troja Major two-parter better

- [SPOILERS FOR IDW’S UNICRON SERIES]

When asked who’s death Megatron would be most cut-up about, Optimus, Soundwave or Starscream, JRo said he’d take Stasrcream’s the worst, as the two had “unfinished business” (the new Pacifist Megatron wanted to reconcile with Starscream). Though Soundwave was listed last on the “who'd Megatron would mourn the most” list, he also said that he’d be “proud of what Soundwave did”

- On a more lighthearted note, he said that Stan Bushs’ Dare was playing in Rodimus’ head during his “Til All Are One!” montage in the 2012 annual

- Cyclonus is, unfortunately, no longer rich, because much of his wealth came from Tetrahexian real estate (as stated in the prose story Signal to Noise, packaged in Volume 4 of MTMTE), and the value kinda dropped after Unicron, you know, destroyed the whole planet (though he also said it’s more than likely he and Tailgate invested in real estate on New Cybertron)

- Said that if Rodimus and Drift had been amica endura “no one would’ve batted an eye,” (and that they would’ve completed the ceremony off-screen)

- Rodimus was originally going to sacrifice himself in Crucible to stop the Omega Guardians from using the Warren to enter our universe and take it over. (”Even saying that is making me yawn”) Everyone would’ve thought Rodimus was already dead, and as such, another, unnamed character would’ve gotten credit for his sacrifice. Rodimus would’ve known this, and sacrificed himself anyway.

- “You’re all [unapologetic] shippers and I salute you.”

- As he stated on Twitter before, he’d have liked to include a scene between Cyclonus and Drift, where Drift proclaims his new respect for Cyc after seeing his Great Sword. This scene would’ve happened around the Remain in the Light arc. 

- “Are you guys still talking about Chromedome being a bottom? Oh my god.”

- In a fight between Drift and Cyclonus, Cyclonus would win.

- When asked who he’d ship Rodimus with, he said that Rodimus was an interesting case, as he’d actually be quite well-versed in the area of romance, unlike the rest of the cast, and that he “wouldn’t pine for people.” In the end, he ended up choosing Roller.

- Getaway didn’t make up the Conjux rites; they’re real 

- Rodimus’ flame abilities are not an outlier ability, but an upgrade he got along the way (he compared it to getting a really excessive tattoo). The ability is really painful and uses up a lot of Roddy’s energy.

- When asked what he hoped from the next continuity, he said that he wanted it to continue to be inclusive “in every sense of the word”, specifically pointing out the LGBTQIA+ representation as something he wanted to see continued. 

- “Yeah, Springer’s pretty hot.”

- First Aid has a crush on crush on Springer (as does JRo)

- Cyclonus is legitimately a great singer. It’s that his abilities are more of the operatic kind, meaning “he is not always appreciated by the uncultured”

- “[A fan] says that Lost Light is a love letter to fan fiction, which it absolutely is”

- When a fan asked why (to paraphrase) Roller was just so dang hot, JRo said that “Roller just has that effect on people thanks to Jack’s lascivious designs” (and before you go off and google it, lascivious is defined as “feeling or revealing an overt sexual interest or desire”)

- Drift’s wealth was made through bounty hunting

- Brainstorm and Chromedome might have been amica endura, but that Chromedome felt “burnt out” from his various failed relationships, both platonic and romantic. 

- No one even has a “Rung-shaped gap” in their memory after LL #24. They honestly can’t remember where the various matrixes came from, as is the case with all the things Rung was responsible for. They all blame it on memory creep and have each come up with their own contradictory explanations as to how and why these things happened. 

- When asked if Swerve liked The Big Bang Theory, JRo replied with a swift “No, he has a brain”

- Instead, he said Community was Swerve’s favourite show

- Cybertronian weddings are “very long”

- There was a lot singing at Cyclonus and Tailgate’s wedding

- Brainstorm and Perceptor’s wedding, meanwhile, “would be very complicated” because “they’d be trying to outdo each other in subtle ways”. It would “make for a good sitcom episode.”

- Roddy’s favourite meme is “the butterfly one”

- Rung’s favourite meme is “the woman looking confused with algebra in front of her face”

- Swerve is over memes

- “[Drift’s thighs] are certainly impressive”

- Swerve is “destined to have many friends”

- Whirl and Cyclonus most certainly became amica endura after LL #25

- Swerve got Misfire’s number in the end

- Though he said many times in the lead up the end of this continuity that this was his last time writing for Transformers, he said he would like to write a 12 issue series centred around a character he didn’t name, and then later admitted that he wanted to try to convince IDW to let him write another series. He also said that is there was ever a Grand Collecter’s edition of the series (that collected all the issues, prose stories, additional stories from other series etc into one or two hardback editions, for example), he’d write an additional prose story to make it worth people’s money

- Hoist confirmed the Lost Light’s resident furry

- “Tailgate is the cutest? Yes, he’s a little marshmallow.”

-  In his final days, before his execution, Minimus would’ve taken his poetry to Megatron so that he could read it (he would’ve also read Minimus’ poetry on the Alt! Lost Light, though assumedly under far less tragic circumstances)

- Getaway was considered the hottest mech on all of the Lost Light, with Skids as a close second. Together, they were “a hot duo.”

- Functionist Universe! Anode was a brilliant war general 

- Nickel had a girlfriend before her homeworld was destroyed 

- Rung can’t dance (we been knew)

- Crankcase and Con4Eva did hook up in the original universe

- “Does Rung know we love him? No - he’s very lonely” 

- No one in the cast likes all of the Shrek movies, but all of them like the first one.

- Chromedome and Brainstorm met each other the New Institute (which was my question answered :D) 

- Roddy would eat Doritos if he could 

- Not a single Transformer (in the IDW-verse) would like Trump

- The worst film that Roddy likes is Caddy Shack 

- Terminus would’ve never admitted that he was lying to Megatron

- Unfortunately, the song Boogie Wonderland by Earth, Wind & Fire never made it to the Lost Light

- “Who would make the best romantic partner? Depends on your taste.”

- JRo’s favourite superhero is Spiderman, his favourite TF toys as a kid were Hot Rod & Sandstorm and Nautica is his favourite character (from MTMTE/LL)

- Megatron, does indeed, both give the best hugs and deserves hugs! 

- “You’re a tactile, compassionate, thirsty bunch, aren’t you?”

- Tailgate, Swerve and Rewind would all play Fortnite

- Drift and Ratchet would’ve opened a “clinic” together (the question asker was unintentionally vague, so JRo was intentionally vague with his answer)

- Drift thinks that Ratchet was the one who made the first move, while Ratchet thinks Drift was 

- Ratchet and Drift would’ve been together for “decades and decades” before Ratchet died

- While Nautica/Skids still isn’t canon, he did confirm that Skids’ feelings for Nautica were romantic in nature 

- While Jack Lawrence bases many of the characters’ mannerisms on his own, he bases Rung’s mannerisms off of JRo’s, which doesn’t help his “anti-mary-sue argument.”

- I can’t remember the exact quote, but when asked what it’d be like to have Whirl as a roommate, he said something along the lines of “you’d have a crush on him even though you’d hate him.”

- In case it wasn’t clear enough in the text itself, Whirl rejected Ratchet’s hands because of a shift in how he saw his own disability. He no longer saw it, and by extension, himself, as a “deficiency” that needed to be “fixed”

- JRo pronounces “Omega” as “Oh-me-gah”. This is important information to include. 

And then the livestream ended with JRo saying we all “need a cold shower” after all this “fervent shipping” and went off to finish his half a pint of Corona. (what a legend)

Feel free to add in any answers or details I missed.

#tf #transformers #maccadam #idw #idw comics #idw transformers #mtmte #lost light #ruby speaks

[12freddofrogs]

An Episode of a Batfamily TV Show

 Hey, everyone. I’ve been writing out what I would do if I was the scriptwriter for a Batfam show, and this is an extract from ‘Season Two’, the Robin!Jason era. 

I have a much fuller fic on Ao3 here, which includes episodes detailing how Jason got the job, a bit of Dick’s jealousy and uncertainty how to treat his new little brother, Sheila Haywood’s story being refined to fit television structure, that incident in Ethiopia, several flashes of dramatic irony, and tiny book-nerd Jason who despises Alice In Wonderland, much to the annoyance of both Babs and Jervis Tetch. Plus this episode, which is far more readable on Ao3 than tumblr, especially if you’re on mobile.

Season Two, Episode Nine - Double 

In one episode, Two-Face robs a casino.

Complete with hostages.

Batman is on the other side of the city, already busy breaking up a kidnapping.

Robin had been halfway home from the patrol, excusing himself to finish a book report for class, when the call comes in.

He’s close, and isn’t so easily lured by homework that he’d ever ignore people in danger.

Robin goes in alone.

The casino is styled with one main room, complete with a stage and dining tables across the floor from the slot machines.

Two-Face is standing in front of the stage, gun hold high. The crowds are huddled up, most of them still collected at their tables.

His speech is interrupted by someone singing, the chosen song starting slow. 

He turns around to see the Boy Wonder on stage, stepping lightly around the stand-up comedian who is sitting hunched at the back of the stage.

Robin had picked up a microphone from somewhere and is taking full advantage. 

He doesn’t do his whole song — three minutes is a lot of screen-time. He finishes a verse, just long enough to get everyone’s attention, before taking a seat on the edge of the stage.

Two-Face is unimpressed.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t applaud.” He points his gun.

“Well, if I end up punching you today, it’ll probably be for different reasons.”

“So you’re Robin number two.” Two-Face sneers. “Heard so much about you.”

“What makes you think I’m new?”

“Gonna claim that you got shorter?”

“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen in Gotham.” Robin drops the microphone with a remarkable lack of respect for other people’s equipment and bounces to his feet. The stage means he’s looking down on Two-Face as he grins. “Or maybe I just got new boots, either-or. You gonna come quietly, or do I get to kick your ass first?”

Two-Face does not come quietly.

“You know you’re not getting out of here,” Robin warns. “The GCPD has the building surrounded, and Batman is — well, it defies the point of a secret if I tell you where he is, but he’s very close. Let these people go.”

 “I’m not done yet.”

 Two-Face grabs a man from the crowd — young, couldn’t be older than his early twenties, a small child with the same hair colour sitting at the same table. He drags the hostage up in one quick movement, a gun suddenly pressed to the man’s temple.

 Immediately there’s a batarang in Robin’s hand. “Let him go!”

 “And why should I do that, Boy Wonder?” Two-Face grins, as much as he can manage with his scarred face. “You asked how I’m getting out of here, and this here is part of my plan.”

  The man whimpers, a beg on his lips before Two-Face tightens his grip. “Shut up.”

 “You want a hostage?” Robin says, not moving. His mask eyes remain trained on Two-Face. “Take me instead.”

 “What?”

“I’d be much more valuable if you’re trying to get leverage over Batman.”

Two-Face pulls out his coin.

He has to yank the hostage in closer to himself, wrap the man’s neck in the crook of his elbow while holding the gun so that he has a free hand. It’s the kind of trap that would potentially be possible to break free from, but no smart civilian would attempt it with a gun to their head.

Robin is still standing on the stage, batarang at the ready, as the coin flips.

“Fine,” Two-Face growls. Robin slowly lowers his hand. “But you’re not staying armed.”

Robin’s expression doesn’t change, but he tucks the batarang away.

“No. Leave the belt.”

His glare darkens.

“I said—” Two-Face presses the gun tighter to his hostage. “Drop the belt.”

“Fine.” It takes one moment to unbuckle it. Robin drops it on the stage, kicks it behind himself. Then he glances away from Two-Face to look at one of the stage managers cowering in the same area. “Don’t touch that. It’ll electrocute anyone who’s not me or Batman.”

“And your earbud. And I know you’ve got lockpicks in those gloves, loose them too.”

Robin obeys, dropping his comm unit on the stage. He takes off his gloves and tosses them towards his belt. “So you know, there’s a limit to how much I’m going to strip.”

Two-Face releases his hostage.

The man rushes back to the table where his family is sitting.

Robin steps off the stage, dropping a distance taller than him without wincing. “Let’s go.”

Two-Face raises the gun to him. Robin doesn’t blink.

The two of them walk away.

 “What exactly is your plan for getting past the cops?” Robin asks as he’s escorted downstairs. He’s careful with his bare hands, making sure not to leave fingerprints.

“Shut up.”

“What am I going to do with this information? You made me leave my earbud,” he protests as they enter the underground carpark. “Besides, hostages tend to notice how you travel.”

Several of Two-Face’s thugs are already downstairs, packing a van with stolen money.  “Uh, is that Robin?” one asks.

Robin glances at him, waves his fingers like a ghost. “Boo.”

“Kid’s the best hostage we’ll get ‘round here.” Two-Face reaches into the front seat of the van and tosses a pair of handcuffs. “Put these on.”

“Since you asked so nice.”

Robin cuffs himself. Two-Face gestures and one of the thugs tightens it, to the point he winces.  

They drive off.

Robin is startled to notice Two-Face had a car meticulously degraded so that exactly the left half is scratched.

“What do you think?”

“It’s… a lot.”

He’s impressed despite himself that it turns out to be a distraction. One of the henchmen crawls in behind the tinted windscreen. Two-Face promises they’ll meet up soon.

Two-Face gets behind a much more ordinary two-door car, forcing Robin into the passenger seat.

The car drives off.

The decoy car goes first, tearing out of the service entrance.

Two-Face’s actual car is waiting patiently behind as several cop cars chase after it.

"So did you hire a racer or was it always part of your plan that guy goes to jail?” Robin leans back in his chair, looking more like he’s at the movies then a hostage.

Two-Face grunts. “If Henry makes it back, he makes it back.”

“Oh. Chance. Right, your whole thing. Gotcha.” Robin rolls his eyes as the car continues out. “There’s still plenty of police out there.”

Despite his observation, the two waiting police cars don’t do anything to stop them, leaving Robin confused and Two-Face smug.

They escape into traffic.

Robin keeps up a steady stream of smart-ass commentary throughout the drive.

“How does Batman put up with you?”

“I’m a lot less of a brat when I’m not handcuffed.” Robin lifts his wrists. “Wanna give me the keys, let me prove it?”

“How bout I try a gag, instead?”

 “Ooh, are you going to stop driving and leave me unattended while you check the back?”

 At one point, while chatting, Robin’s cuffed hands slowly creep towards the handbrake.

Two-Face has his gun in his face before he can try anything. “Don’t.”

Robin’s face sours, but he pulls back.

Meanwhile, Batman has arrived at the casino.

The man Robin traded himself for is giving a statement, and is appropriately startled when a black shadow lands in front of him.

Batman hears the story again and immediately swoops off.

The World’s Greatest Detective is able to find out how and when Two-Face got away.

He accuses the cops who didn’t chase of being bribed, and judging by their reactions (one tries to run), was right. When they babble that they don’t know anything more about Two-Face’s plans, he throws them at Gordon and gets into the Batmobile.

Batman’s chase is interspersed with moments of Robin and Two-Face.

“So do you actually know where you’re going?” Robin comments as they zoom through traffic. “Cause you seem to be doing about three loops to get there.” He wiggles his fingers, all the more obnoxious with his wrists bound. “I could recalibrate your GPS for you if you’re too old to work out how.”

Two-Face is driving with a gun pinned in one hand between the wheel and his fingers. The free hand lets go of the wheel and digs in his pocket. Without saying a word or looking away from the road, he takes out his coin and flips it.

He glances at the result, and puts it away without any further action.

Robin shuts up.

Batman tracks down ‘Henry’, the decoy driver.

He’d already been caught by police, so it wasn’t hard.

Henry gives his information up very quickly about Two-Face’s rendezvous point.

The first sign of Two-Face’s plan going awry is when they run into a road block.

He veers violently to avoid them.

“That wasn’t suspicious,” Robin says brightly as the rogue starts searching for another route.

Two-Face is getting more annoyed, which isn’t helped when the Batmobile shows up.

Cue a car chase.

Two-Face is too distracted to notice when Robin slips off his seatbelt.

During a particularly sharp turn, one that Two-Face had to hit the brakes to make, Robin takes advantage and flings open the door. He rolls, landing on the edge of the sidewalk.

Two-Face curses, but doesn’t go back.

Batman is more willing to stop. Robin leaps into the Batmobile and the tyres screech off again.

Robin’s belt, gloves, and earbud are sitting on the chair. He starts working on removing his handcuffs almost immediately, even as Batman starts talking about how risky it was. The lecture is occasionally paused with a particularly sharp obstacle as they chase a supervillain.

They eventually catch him.

Two-Face is arrested, the thugs are similarly caught, and most of the cash is recovered.

Later in the Cave, Bruce and Jason talk.

The general gist is that what he did was reckless, but overall, Bruce is proud of him. “Don’t do that again, though.”

The episode finishes with Jason finally starting on that book report he should have done hours earlier.

Ao3: Here

Tumblr post for chapter one (also involving a hostage situation - specifically, billionaire’s child Dick Grayson, rather than in costume): Here

#batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #two-face #batman #robin #batman and robin #robin ii #12freddofrogs writes #batfam #tumblr fanfic #gotham crusaders

[loftec]

@alter-alterego asked:

Lofty! Were you serious when you said to give you a number b/w 1-40 and you'd tell us about your fic draft/outline? 'Cause if you are, might I try number 17 for kicks and giggles?

And

(And if you weren't serious about the "name a fic number thing, can I go with #12 and/or 29? Whichever you're more inclined to answer, or haven't been asked by that point.) ;)

And yes and yes! I am always serious about getting to talk excessively about fic ❤ I’m going to start with the questions and end with the draft/outline under a cut.

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

This is a tough one! But I think I have to say 5x1, because it has so much potential when you look at it as an isolated episode. Consider the family breakfast dance and just imagine what has happened in the months since we saw them last, imagine everything they’ve done and said to get to this point. Imagine how much better they know each other and how much more comfortable they are as people and as a couple. Imagine the consequences and emotional fallout that should follow the mania-induced infidelity. Completely disregard the fact that nothing at all is made of it, in the end.

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh I don’t knoFLYBOY AND THE GEARHEAD. (I’m pretty sure like 5 of the drafts in my ideas folder are derivative of this fic anyway, so might as well.)

So, I’m just going to share the whole outline of this idea under the cut. I’m pretty sure I will write this at some point, so if you don’t want to be teased just skip this bit.

INCEPTION AU

Mickey is the exasperated point man and drugs expert to Ian’s intuitive and reckless architect and dreamer.

They have history.

Mickey doesn’t have to repeat a year, but instead focuses on school as a way out. Leaves high school with straight As (maths and art) gets full ride to MIT, MA in Architectural Design. He doesn’t make any friends, because of his general demeanor and bad attitude, paired with the fact that he’s the best student in his year, and probably in years. But he’s not very good at following rules, so he doesn’t do well with the hierarchy of the architectural world. His final year, he’s approached by a group, looking for a new architect. They’re dream sharers, and he starts training with them. His studies take a hit and he loses his scholarship. He comes out to his family over Christmas and then disappears. He’s the main suspect of his father’s murder, when Terry’s body is found some time later. As far as the authorities are concerned, or all his siblings know, Mickey’s dead too.

He meets Ian after a couple of years in the business. They bond over their shared birthplace, and quickly start hooking up. It’s no strings attached - adrenalin after a job - kinda physical off and on relationship. Never on the job, always after, months sometimes years apart.

Ian got into West Point, and while there he took a test that qualified him as compatible with a new program. They train him to share dreams, but when he’s sent out on his first field op he messes up real bad, bringing in his own projections and havoc ensues. He’s diagnosed with bipolar and discharged. He takes up with rogues, and for a few years he’s able to make it work, working with and around the symptoms of his disorder, using the liberal drug culture of the dream sharing community to self-medicate. When he disappears into depression, there’s no one to notice. He thinks he has it under control, but during a job with Mickey and a couple of people they’ve worked with before, he loses control and almost jeopardizes the whole mission, as well as their lives.

Mickey tries to make him quit, because the job is messing him up, tries to make him take his meds and be safe. Ian doesn’t understand why he cares, and they have a huge argument. After that they don’t work together or have any other kind of contact.

Maybe this is where the fic starts? With Ian doing a job, and in the dream sees Mickey as a projection. They’re in a hospital and Mickey is carted past them, unconscious on a stretcher. Ian has been on his meds for a while and been thinking that it’s been going well, but this is not good. (Maybe Lip is an architect too, and he’s in the dream with him and sees Mickey, accusing Ian of projecting and not keeping it together.) Ian takes a vacation, but he can’t stop thinking about Mickey in the dream. More and more convinced that it wasn’t his projection, but the memory of their mark.

So he starts looking for Mickey. In his search he finds Mandy, he saw Mickey writing a postcard once and remembers the address, it’s for a small house under the L just around the corner from where he grew up. He barely remembers Mandy, but she remembers him. She tells him a little about Mickey’s past. About Terry abusing them and the things he did to her, about Mickey finding out and killing Terry, and disappearing.

Ian tells her a little about his relationship with Mickey, about how he doesn’t entirely understand it, doesn’t understand what Mickey’s thinking sometimes (most times). Mandy says something about Mickey caring, and what that means.

Ian starts looking for Mickey in hospitals, going through their online databases first before going to the hospitals their mark has been at, to look through the physical records. When he finds Mickey, he’s in a coma, admitted as a John Doe (what happens to John Does in comas? Do they keep them on life support? I think not, but Dogma is my only source lol). He busts Mickey out and gets help to enter Mickey’s subconscious. He’s never shared Mickey’s dreams before, and this is a comatose state (is he in limbo? Yeah, maybe skip the whole memory loss thing. So it should be a place that feels real, right, and that’s why it’s so difficult to leave? And maybe a hundred years in limbo is an hour in the real world, but how about time just not existing? Mal and Cob were in limbo for a really long time but didn’t change physically, Saito was in Limbo until he was an old man, was he just there longer, or did his perception of the world he was in alter the way he experienced the passing of time? So what if Mickey kinda gets stuck in this one passage of time? I’d want to include Yevgeny too, can I? Ugh I suck at AUs.)

(Imagine Cob still being in limbo at the end, just saying. And how does it work? Three levels of dream, and if you die in the third level you fall into limbo? Even if you’re in someone else’s dream?)

So I’m thinking that maybe Mickey’s stuck in limbo, and his limbo are these few good moments stuck on repeat, a little catatonic Buffy vibe? One is maybe, like, waking up with Ian (season 4 waking up) doing something with Mandy, looking at Ian from across a room. And Ian goes through three levels of empty, abandoned, trashed dreams, the old house, an abandoned building, Ian’s apartment. And he has to persuade Mickey that he’s dreaming, and needs to wake up.

Guess he does, and they get together and ride into the sunset etc?

Or, stick with the old idea and go through the whole memory-loss bit and slow rehabilitation. I mean. You know you’re not above this trope, no reason to pretend.

The more I think about this idea, the more I am tempted to write something long and slow and a wee bit angsty. Might just be the current mood.

But Imagine like 100 000+ words of a third being detached hanky-panky in the workplace, a third of dreamsharing action, and a third of healing and growing together. Ugh. I mean. I want to read it, right now, so I guess that tells me something.

Look forward to this fic, in an archive near you, 2025.

[inge-theron]

TOP-TO-TOKYO INSPIRATION

My obsession with Japanese spas and beauty was fostered almost a decade ago, when I discovered the authority on “gourmet bathing”, Leonard Koren, and his 1996 book Undesigning the Bath. This Japanophile US artist and writer’s paean to the understated, understudied, unassuming objects that constitute a great bath ignited my passion for heat and steam – the holy grail being the laidback cousin of the hammam, Japan’s simple onsen. However, on this trip to the country I wanted to dive beyond the well-known Japanese ritual of ofuro: a warm, soothing bath that can take place in an onsen (a mineral-rich natural hot spring) or a sento (public indoor baths). I wanted to experience the lesser-known Japanese beauty rituals and unlock some of the alternative beauty and wellness scene secrets. As I realised during my painstaking research, Tokyo and its subcultures and insider geekery often mean this world is very much out of reach to foreigners. But after months of soft-stalking Japanese beauty bloggers on Instagram, a couple of them responded and I finally found something more than the wabi- sabi aesthetic to write home about.

Day 1

Tk.TktmTokyo is a city of contradictions, as the classic Zen principles of kanso and shibui constantly clash with colourful chaos at every street corner. And in no other district of this vast warren of a city is this more apparent than in Otemachi (pictured below), with its skyscraper skyline located east of the ancient Imperial Palace. It is a really tough choice deciding where to stay, as my inner Spa Junkie is desperate to be immersed in gentler waters. I want to spend my days in a kimono, enveloped in wafts of sandalwood, while lounging on tatami mats and eating sushi. This is not a dream but a reality at the recently opened Hoshinoya, a modern-day ryokan in the heart of the business district. Or do I stay at the super-cool Aman Tokyo – only a couple of blocks away?

Given that I have to work on this trip, I check into the latter. Aman Tokyo comes furnished with all the Japanese design I crave and every mod con I need. Jet-lagged and exhausted, I take a lift to the hotel lobby on the 33rd floor of the 38-storey Otemachi Tower. Aman Tokyo’s urban retreat chic occupies the top six floors, and upon entering its 30m-tall lobby, serene sounds from a koto player synchronise with the dancing rays of sunlight pouring into the soaring 420sq m space. The room features a giant washi-rice- paper lantern and the music gently serenades the guests as they take tea in minimalist splendour. Tk.TktmI retreat directly to the hotel’s stunning and tranquil temple-like 30m pool, where basalt sets the scene.

The giant floor-to-ceiling windows mean each time I finish a lap and draw a breath I look out at the city panorama before me – and a snow-covered Mount Fuji. Tk.Tktm Next I gravitate towards one of the spa rooms (pictured overleaf) to experience an Aman treatment called the Signature Spa Journey. Before it begins, a bento-style box is curated in front of me with each of the ingredients that will be used. And in typical Japanese fashion, presentation is an important part of the experience. The assortment includes a body scrub – containing camphor, known for its deeply calming scent, kuromoji powder and a Japanese clay – that stimulates circulation, boosts the lymphatic system and removes toxins; and a flowering spicewood rice oil that is used in traditional Japanese medicine.

The 150-minute treatment starts with a foot bath with seasonal kampo herbs and mineral sea salt, and is followed by a deep-breathing exercise using kuromoji powder and rice oil, renowned for its relaxing and calming properties. I am given the full-body camphor scrub, then bathed and finally pummelled with a 90-minute combination of shiatsu and western-style elbow-in- the-tight-spot massage. By the time the treatment is over, I am relaxed, rebalanced and truly ready for bed. I switch the kampo-inspired herbal refreshment for a sake nightcap and a deep-cleansing 3D sheet face mask of my own in my room, while I watch the incredible light show that is Tokyo by night.

Day 2

9am – For me, nothing beats the notorious Tokyo jet lag faster than a quick yoga session. I join Yuco, an amazing instructor, back in the spa for an hour of powerful ashtanga.

11am – After lunch I head off to the neighbourhood of Akasaka to meet my otonamaki teacher Mr Ishii at Suitengu Seikotsuin clinic. Otonamaki (pictured top left), which directly translates as “adult wrapping”, is a new underground meditation practice of “rebirthing” that claims to alleviate problems related to posture, stiffness and insomnia. I’m asked to strip down to the bare minimum – which is my stockings – and then Ishii asks me to curl up into a ball, to be the smallest I possibly can. He tucks my shoulders in as my chin presses tightly on my chest and ties the first of many tight knots as he begins to wrap me in a blanket – thankfully made from breathable cloth. It gets kind of kinky as the knots become tighter and tighter and I find myself swaddled from head to toe.

Totally cocooned, I can’t move at all. Although breathing is hard, I’m not in pain as Ishii starts to rock me back and forth. He explains that in a couple of minutes he will invert me, and this is meant to take me back to the moment of birth when I was head down in the womb. The blood rushes to my head as he holds me up by my feet for two minutes, though it feels like 15. Down again and rocking on my back, we start the light therapy part of the session. Ishii places small squares of bright satin cloth over my eyes. The squares are individually coloured – red, blue and green – which makes for a very surreal experience. The red cloth evokes the feeling of sunlight on my tummy, and now everything about this experience seems to fall into place. I’m feeling very relaxed, my breathing slows down and I have the sensation that I’m floating. At the end of the half-hour session, I feel de-stressed, but relieved to be freed.

3pm – Next up, I head into the backstreets of Tokyo’s Azabu district, to a clinic called Harieq Azabu, run by Mari Okamoto. She’s one of Tokyo’s top facial acupuncturists and has agreed to let me experience her facial lifting and sculpting treatment called electric facial acupuncture. The session starts with body-detoxing acupuncture (pictured on opening page), and things get heated when Okamoto begins the okyu or moxibustion, in which a mugwort extract is lit and burnt close to the needles, heating them and filling the room with a thick, cannabis-like smoke. Moxibustion is a regular feature of Japanese acupuncture and is intended to elevate blood cell levels (especially those of white blood cells) by stimulating the immune system with a small amount of heat directly applied to the body’s acupuncture points. Okamoto also places eight cupping glasses (pictured top left) from my shoulders all down my spine – a localised detoxing therapy that uses special cups that suction the skin for a few minutes.

It really hurts – and leaves me with huge circular blue bruises for a week. I’m feeling woozy when she turns me over for my facelift treatment. About 40 needles are placed carefully into my face – along my jawline, hairline, deep nasolabial lines and brows, with one slap bang in the middle of my third eye, which is riddled with tiny fine lines. Next, Okamoto attaches a microcurrent to each of the needles: my face feels like it is being electrocuted. My muscles start twitching wildly as she keeps turning up the current to get even deeper into my tissue. It’s no fun at all. I grit my teeth and think of all the sake I’ll have later. Okamoto explains, “Facial acupuncture targets ageing from within. The needles stimulate the derma, encouraging collagen production and skin cell regeneration. It also helps with wrinkles, fine lines and saggy jowls.” After 20 minutes, I can feel the muscle fatigue in my face and the results are undeniable. My brows are a good half an inch higher and I look like the millennial me from my past.

Day 3

10am – Because Japanese beauty is the new Korean beauty, a trip to Tokyo is not complete without a morning buying its prized products. I’ve been sent a list of places to visit from Alisa, one of my Instagram contacts (@tokyobeautybook), and pop into First Avenue Tokyo Station; Ainz & Tulpe, a two-floor beauty megastore; Matsumoto Kiyoshi, one of the biggest drugstore chains; and Cosme Kitchen for natural skincare. On my shopping spree I stock up on LuLuLun masks (these masks are available in day and night formulas and are so nourishing. I always see an instant lift and plump whenever I use them), Kanebo Clear Enzyme Cleansing Powder (which leaves my skin incredibly soft and smooth) and the obligatory jumbo-sized SK-II Facial Treatment Essence (most SK-II products contain Pitera – a natural byproduct of yeast fermentation believed to keep wrinkles at bay. It’s a classic beauty staple and catapulted Japanese beauty into my life. It leaves my skin hydrated and the tone really bright). I also buy a stack of Rohto’s eye-whitening drops. They’re truly redemption in a bottle. I have to buy an extra suitcase to bring my beauty products back home with me.

2pm – Thanks to another Instagram recommendation, I find myself back in the alleys of Akasaka at beauty parlour Spa Hinoki, this time for a 160-minute anti- ageing facial that comes with a carbon dioxide head and scalp treatment. I am led up a steep flight of stairs and into another world of dim lighting, dark cherrywood floors and rice-paper doors. I am miffed I’m not offered a kimono to round off this authentic experience. My therapist reads a few words of broken English from a piece of paper. I’m told to lie down and relax. However, with most Japanese facials you will not simply find a bed but a bed with a basin, as scalp and face are intrinsically linked in Japanese beauty regimes.

I have no desire to get my hair washed, but eventually I give in and go with the flow. It feels like extremely fizzy club soda is being poured and worked vigorously all over my hair. The Japanese include scalp care in their weekly routine to deter any “scalp odour”, and it’s believed the bubbles help to clean deeply, promote blood flow and alleviate hair loss. After the hairwashing, a microcurrent machine is up next, which feels like a family of centipedes gathering for Sunday lunch on my head. Then my feet are massaged and eight small pebble-like hot stones are placed between my toes to stimulate key pressure points. But now it’s time for my face massage. I am in heaven for the next hour, as my therapist’s slow and rhythmic hand movements excite and delight my forgotten face muscles. Finally, a mask is applied – a mask finishes off every Japanese beauty ritual – and I leave positively lifted and glowing. I wish I could take my beauty therapist back to London in my luggage.

The Bottom Line

My three days delving into Tokyo’s alternative beauty scene barely scratched the surface of a culture that seamlessly marries authenticity, perfectionism, innovation and ritual. Nevertheless, my overwhelming impression was that beauty treatments in Japan are performed like a perfectly choreographed dance. I arrived with high expectations and was not disappointed by the originality and effectiveness of the treatments. As I boarded the plane home, relaxed and rebalanced, my taster of this esoteric beauty scene had supercharged my passion for all things Japanese spa and beauty related.

#toptotokyo skincare japanesespa spajunkie blog