#and then months later realised i should get an abortion and then was really excited to do it bc like. experiencing new things

[eggmeralda]

weird dream

[obiwanobi]

Ok ok but Clem, hear me, I need to share my personal Obi-Wan gets out release some steam in the lower levels of Coruscant but instead of stripping or raving at club, he gets into clandestine fistfights. He just goes all fight club on who wants to get punched in the face. Once, Anakin follows him in secret and find him his nose bloody, bare torso glistening with oil like a gladiator and dozens of fans screaming his (fake) name. He whites out instantely.

THIS IS WHY I’M HERE FOR I wanted to write like 2 paragraphs but then I got really into it, so here’s Anakin going from “time to laugh at my boring old master who I’m definitely not obsessed with” to “ANYWAY denial time’s over, I need him to pin me to the ground in front of everyone immediately”:

It takes fifteen minutes after landing on Coruscant for Anakin to decide that it’s time to bother Obi-Wan. For once, it’s not a decision on a whim, despite the carefree way he announces it to Rex before leaving his troops and ship in the hangar. The Force guides him through the halls and corridors toward the warm and familiar presence of his former master, but Anakin isn’t surprised to feel him preoccupied. 

Obi-Wan has been stuck in the Temple for the past four months.

Because of some careless planning, he was unlucky enough to be on Coruscant when Yoda realised that he was the only council member not currently swamped in various missions off-world. Since it was an unspoken rule that at least a few Council members should always be at the Temple, Obi-Wan has been asked to put his missions in the field on hold, and dedicate his time to represent the Council, until more of its members come back.  

Since then, Anakin has only seen him through holotransmitters for official briefings and reports. The artificial blue lights haven’t hidden the creases between his eyebrows and the twitch of his hands when Anakin raised the topic of his time away from the front, telling him all he needed to know about how Obi-Wan felt about being stranded on Coruscant to do paperwork all day or act as the face of the Jedi Order in the Senate.

Now that he can finally see him in the flesh, it feels natural to seek out Obi-Wan, poke at his poor master and laugh at his concealed misery. There was no doubt that Obi-Wan always brilliantly plays the role of a calm and serene Jedi Master, but Anakin hasn’t spent more than ten years around him without catching on the fact that at heart, he’s still a man of actions who needs some excitement and tangible problems to solve before he grows bored.

Anakin isn’t surprised to find him in the middle of various maps, datapad in hand and pointing something on a holotable at another Jedi. What does surprise him, after a few minutes of waiting for them to be done and the Jedi to go away, is that Obi-Wan is not putting any weight on his left leg. It’s the most subtle of change, probably undetectable to anyone else but someone who has spent so much time watching the way Obi-Wan walks and moves and carries himself. But it’s there. 

“Oh, that?” Obi-Wan says almost like he hasn’t noticed, after Anakin didn’t even bother with a ‘hello’. “A knight asked me for some hand-to-hand training sessions. Since I’m to stay at the Temple for an indefinite period of time, I can at least be useful to others. He didn’t go easy on your old master, that’s for sure,” he quietly laughs, and Anakin will be annoyed at himself later for not noticing the clear bait.

But for now, it’s the perfect opportunity to make fun of him, saying that old men like him should pay more attention to their health, and “be careful Obi-Wan, you’re already part of the Council and drink your tisane before going to bed at 2200, you can’t be going around holding your back and complaining about young people or I’ll start mistaking you with Master Yoda!”

A datapad comes flying at his head and it only makes him laugh harder.

Anakin starts to become suspicious two weeks later.

He arrives in the middle of the night from an exhausting mission in the inmost depths of the mid-rim, and his feet take him directly to Obi-Wan’s quarters. it’s closer than his anyway, and he knows Obi-Wan keeps his old room just the way he left it. If he’s being honest, he should also admit that he spends half of his time there instead of his own quarters. It’s just a question of being used to it, he thinks as he lets himself fall on his old bed. And here at least, he knows he will find the bed made and a cup fo caf waiting for him in the morning. Plus, there is nothing more comforting than the feeling of slipping between fresh sheets and the smell of the familiar citrus detergent, unchanged since his childhood. He should really ask Obi-Wan which one he uses. 

When he opens the fresher’s door the next morning to brush his teeth, he barely notices that Obi-Wan is already taking a shower, complaining about sacred personal space and unruly boys who never learnt common courtesy like not leaving their muddy boots in the living room or barging in occupied freshers behind the curtain. Nothing out of the ordinary, until Obi-Wan comes out with a towel high on his hips, but not high enough to hide the large bacta patch on his back and shoulder. 

“Wha-” Anakin tries to ask between toothbrush and toothpaste, but Obi-Wan is already out of the room, and even outside their quarters with a hurried goodbye when Anakin finishes brushing his teeth. 

Anakin starts to get annoyed when he comes back from Corellia a week later and Madame Nu catches him near the entrance of the library. 

“Please come get your master,” she sighs with a hand grabbing his arm, already dragging him in with unexpected strength. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but this is getting ridiculous.”

The ‘not my master anymore’ is still on his tongue when she makes an exasperated sign to a corner of the library where he finds Obi-Wan seated at a table, chin on his hand and head bowed toward a screen.

Snoring. 

Anakin barely contains his giggle long enough to take a holo and send it to Ahsoka. He takes another one then, closer, focusing on the way the late afternoon sun catches his hair, his beard and his lashes, enfolding Obi-Wan in its warm golden light. Focusing on his peaceful expression. 

 He saves this one for himself. 

Reluctant to disturb him, he allows himself a few more minutes of fondness and gentle affection in front of the scene before putting his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and shaking it gently. The wince and sudden jerk he gets as a result surprise him, before he remembers the flash of a bacta patch in the fresher a week ago. 

“'N’kin? You’re already back?” Obi-wan mumbles, straightening himself with difficulty on his chair. 

“Yes, just arrived a few minutes ago.”

 “What are you doing in the library?” He asks in a light tone. Something cracks, and his hand makes an aborted move toward his shoulder before thinking better of it. “I thought you would only come back this far in the economy section under death threats.”

This time, Anakin doesn’t take the bait. 

“You’re still hurt. Are you going to tell me which knight beat you up and apparently kept you up all night?”

The words have barely left his mouth when he realises the double meaning of his question and there are suddenly a dozen images in his mind and- No no no, it can’t be- Obi-Wan would never... Well, he would. But not this way, not the- Hand-to-hand training? With another knight? Every time Anakin leaves for a certain period of time, when no one will notice if Anakin’s not here? Being so tired that he’s sleeping in the middle of the library? The bacta patch? To get this, that would have- Oh, that would be a sight to- NO, no, this is definitely not it, Anakin has to believe it, or he will lose his mind right there. 

“A knight?” Obi-Wan asks, apparently still too drowsy to sense Anakin’s inner meltdown. He stretches his arms, and Anakin grows even more confused when he realises that his knuckles are scraped. “What are you talking about?” 

 “The- The one you’re training?”

Something passes in Obi-Wan’s eyes and he puts his hands in his sleeves just a little too quickly to look natural. 

“Ah, yes, the knight. Yes, he- we, we’re still having sessions now and then. Good to stay in shape, you know. Now, since you’re back, what do you say about dinner? I’m paying for Dex’s takeout if you go get it.” 

Anakin doesn’t feel focused enough to harass him about his flimsy explanation or tease him about taking a nap in the library. There are way too many incriminating images in his mind he needs to get rid of first. 

The next time he comes back to the Temple after a few days trapped in negotiations with neutral planets, he doesn’t comm anyone and is careful not to let Obi-Wan knows he’s here. He sends R2 and one of his droid pal to stand close to Obi-Wan’s door, and then, he waits. No one pays attention to droids, and most people forget that they have cameras that can be turned on at any point in time, if you ask nicely. It doesn’t take long. At 2240, R2 sends an alert to his comm. He gets his robe, shields himself heavily in the Force, and starts following Obi-Wan.

Anakin really, really doesn’t expect his former master, his “remember that wherever you go, you represent the whole Jedi Order, Anakin, so act accordingly” master, to make his way to the bars and clubs district of the lower levels through hidden shortcuts, bypass cameras and security officers like he’s done it all his life, and knocks at a durasteel door full of graffitis in a language Anakin can’t read.

Definitely not meeting a Jedi knight for regular hand-to-hand training. 

Under his hood, Obi-Wan nods at the Twi’lek who opens the door for him. Anakin lets a few minutes pass before making his way to it. It takes him a heavy mind suggestion to get her to let him in, and when he walks through the door, his heart suddenly starts beating faster in anticipation of what shameful secret he’s going to find.

The thought of seeing Obi-Wan sprawled on a couch of a hidden club with a harem of girls around him crosses his mind, and it twists something he usually tries to ignore in his stomach. It’s not Obi-Wan’s style, it’s so far from everything he knows about his master, but his mind won’t stop entertaining the most insane possibilities of what he does when he’s stuck without Anakin at the Temple and bored by meaningless paperwork. He wouldn’t have imagined Obi-Wan doing anything else but meditate to release tension, but here he is, in the worst part of the whole planet. So what’s next to come?

His throat is already dry, but it’s even harder to swallow when he imagines Obi-Wan letting himself be lead to a private alcove by one of these imaginary girls.

Or boys.

Anakin suddenly thinks that there is no way he’s going to handle this whole thing well.  Whatever he will find will make the effect of betrayal, and he’s not certain why. But Anakin is also convinced that he will be restless and unable to sleep for the rest of his life if he doesn’t get answers. He needs to see, to understand, to know everything about Obi-Wan, even the things he apparently doesn’t want to share. It’s selfish and unkind to his master who has always made a point of respecting his privacy and was probably way too lenient with him during his apprenticeship. He knows that. Now that Anakin has a padawan of his own, he’s fully conscious about all the things Obi-Wan let him get away with for years. He knows. 

But there is something about him that Anakin can’t let go, will probably never be able to let go, that makes Anakin greedy. Demanding. Needy. A poor example of a Jedi that his master would be ashamed of, especially for being the source of it. 

 Anakin refuses to think about it for too long. 

The arena is a distracting surprise.

All of a sudden, he’s pushed in the middle of a crowd, unbalanced by the music, the loud cheers, the flashing lights, the Togruta yelling into a mic, the bell ringing and the thunderous applause all around. No one pays attention to him, way too engrossed in what’s happening in the centre of all this agitation, a few meters down from Anakin’s position.

Nothing could have prepared him for watching the two fighters in the centre of the arena. 

One of the men, the largest one, is face down on the red sand, clearly defeated for the night. Anakin barely notices him, because above him, rubbing his knuckles against his bloody nose before raising it in a universal sign of victory, is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Polite, well-mannered Obi-Wan, who once lectured Anakin for ten minutes because he walked on a nice carpet with his boots on, is now bare-chested in front of a rowdy crowd roaring at him- no, for him. He’s sweating, cheeks, knees and hands covered in sand and exhibiting massive bruises on his ribs and his shoulder. The wide smile on his face says enough about what he thinks about it. 

When Anakin thinks that he will never truly recover all parts of his brain from seeing Obi-Wan’s muscles gleaming with oil and sweat under the artificial lights, he realises that people are chanting his name. Well, nickname. Even with the deafening sound of his blood pumping in his ears like he’s the one fighting in the middle of the arena, Anakin can’t stop himself from scoffing. How can Obi-Wan get into illegal street fighting in the lowest levels of Coruscant and choose to call himself Ben? At least some of his boring master’s choices don’t surprise him. 

It's not the first time he's watching Obi-Wan fighting with nothing else than his fists. It was even quite common when his master was teaching him how to defend himself, when Anakin was still a young padawan. But Obi-Wan was always so proper about it. Focused on the fastest and most efficient way to get the upper hand without maiming his opponent. The picture of calm and serenity, even while throwing his padawan down on the mat to teach him an important lesson about self-defence. Rarely a strand of hair out of place.

But here? Here it's nothing like the impassive and soft-spoken Jedi Master who doesn’t even seem to sweat in the training room of the Temple. Here, it's a fascinating grin on his face, bloody knuckles in the air, adrenaline and flashing lights painting his red hair a shade too wild. It's a violent and brutal show for glory and entertainment, and it suits Obi-Wan like nothing else before.

Anakin has never wanted to be slammed down in the sand so badly in his life. 

The crowd around him suddenly goes quiet, and it takes Anakin a second to realise it’s because Obi-Wan asked for it with a simple hand raised. There is something fascinating in watching all these strangers obeying him so promptly, eagerly waiting for a word from him, when Anakin can still remember all the times he cut Obi-Wan off in one of his tedious lectures. 

The whole arena holds its breath, and Obi-Wan takes a few seconds to enjoy it. 

“Next!” He finally yells, and the crowd yells back in delight. 

Anakin needs to gather his thoughts. Or what's left of them anyway. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan dodging the punches of his new opponent with a flourish, parrying and making an acrobatic show of throwing him over his shoulders on the ground just for the crowd’s enjoyment is more than distracting. Despite the blood on his face, the bruises, the dishevelled hair and the sand sticking to his torso because of the sweat, Obi-Wan hasn’t looked this carefree since the beginning of the war, and Anakin can’t look away. 

 He can’t decide if he’s content to simply be mesmerized by the whole thing, thrilled to be able to admire Obi-Wan being this bold, almost smug, from far away, where his clear feeling of want doesn’t have to be ignored right away, or angry at him for putting himself in danger for no reason when he’s taking enough risks as it is fighting a war. For once, Anakin is tempted to be the voice of reason for the two of them.

It doesn’t last long.

A minute after the commentator enthusiastically yells into her mic Ben’s victory, a bell still ringing in celebration, Anakin has already made his way to a little booth away from the show, where a bored Kiffar asks him what he wants. Anakin licks his lips, and can’t help feeling like he’s a young padawan again, giddy with excitement and vibrating with anticipation. 

“How much to join?” he asks, but doesn’t let him time to answer before adding, pointing to the arena, “How much to fight him?” 

[allie1804-fan]

New Beginnings (Chapter 9)

1  2 3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

Warnings: Angst, mentions of babyloss and some smut

Credit to @ficsnroses for the idea of talking to the baby in the way Keanu does here!

Sharing the news with their friends and family was both wonderful and strange. Their hesitation to assume everything would be OK made them temper the excitement about the news and those receiving it were sworn to secrecy.  But it was still joyous and Emily thoroughly enjoyed telling Chloe.  

She had gone to Chloe’s house as it was still pretty tough for Chloe to make it out of the house with a 4 year old and a baby who wasn’t yet 6 month old. Jamie was playing quietly with some toy cars and they were sitting watching him while Rosie was snuggled in Emily’s arms.

“so I have some news” Emily announced  “but first you have to promise me two things.”

“Anything, what?”

 “First you have to swear not to tell a soul and second, you have to remain calm.  I don’t want you to freak out Jamie and Rosie?”

 “He’s asked you to marry him hasn’t he?” Chloe squeaked

 “no,  actually no”

 “Oh sorry, so what then?”

Emily handed Chloe her phone and told her to go to the gallery where she’d saved a copy of the latest scan photo”

Chloe’s hand clamped over her mouth as she fought to contain her reaction.

“OMG” she whispered when she finally managed to breath a little easier.

“When, how, Oh my god”

Tears were running down both of their faces now,

“In Italy, I was on the pill but I got a stomach bug and it interfered with it. We found out when I went to get a coil fitted but they said we couldn’t because I was pregnant!”

“How far along are you? Is everything OK, you know after ….”

“Almost 10 weeks. And yes it’s  in the womb not my tube this time and so far so good but I’m still terrified if I’m honest”

“And Keanu, how’s he?”

“Same, happy and terrified!”

She filled her in on all the details and left a couple of hours later feeling so much better to have someone other than Keanu who knew.

Another 2 weeks passed with the scans at 10 and 11 weeks also showing the baby growing on schedule and with a healthy heartbeat. There was still no sign of the news escaping to the public and they felt grateful to have escaped so far. Emily sent smiley emojis and thumbs ups to Chloe after each scan.

Emily also had her first midwife appointment where she found out that the standard schedule would be an appointment or scan roughly every 3 weeks. She didn’t think she could cope without some kind of weekly check in until she could feel the baby moving so the midwife agreed to still see her weekly until the 20 weeks scan for a quick check in on the heartbeat.  

Emily took the chance to ask if it was safe now to have sex - they had been holding off anything penetrative and while Keanu was more than willing to pleasure her in other ways, she hadn’t even felt comfortable with having an orgasm herself so they’d just been coping with Keanu masturbating or her giving him a blow job for now. The midwife understood her worries but reassured her it would be perfectly fine for now to have penetrative sex and orgasms as long as she felt ready.

Their next appointment would be when they carried out the 12 week scan and a nuchal fold measurement to assess the risks of Down’s Syndrome. Emily went home armed with information about the risks and options to discuss with Keanu.

As Emily drove home after the appointment she reflected on how this conversation might go – she had some instinct but she didn’t really know. Would he want to  have the amnio if there was a slightly elevated risk. If they were having a Down’s child, would he want to abort? They’d never had cause to discuss their views specifically.  Thankfully the conversation had been swift and conflict free. They both thought they would want to know and do an amnio if her risk was above average but neither would consider aborting a Down’s child. If there was something else seriously wrong that would mean the child had little chance of surviving or an extremely severe condition, then they might reconsider but overall they wanted this child come what may. As it turned out the following week the scan showed she was at low risk especially given she was now 38. Crossing the 12 week point was a huge milestone, easing their terror to medium levels

“what are we on now?” Keanu joked, “is it like defcon 3 now down from a 2?”

“I’d say so since you just put a scan pic in your wallet and on your phone!”

“Do you want to go out for dinner? You know the counselling  said it would do us good to allow ourselves to celebrate”

They agreed on their favourite Italian, Madeo  where they knew the menu well and Emily figured she’d be able to choose safe options without having to ask obvious questions about ingredients. Whilst her stomach was thickening and becoming firmer,  she could still make leggings,  long boots and a fancy loose top work and a shawl thrown over would help to distract attention from the tiny bump.

They hadn’t eaten out together for 2 months so it was a treat to do something fun and ‘normal’

“you’re starting to glow did you know that” Keanu commented as they sat having their coffee and tea after dinner.

She smiled seductively

“you old smoothie, fancy taking a girl home and showing her a good time?”

“you sure?”

She nodded and giggled as Keanu hurriedly gulped down his coffee and beckoned the waiter to pay the check.

As the drove back to their home in the hills, it was with great anticipation that they each contemplated resuming this part of their relationship that had so recently been a part of daily life. Keanu’s hand rested on her thigh squeezing gently and rhythmically. Once home they wasted no time, going straight to their bedroom where he took her in his arms  and kissed her with a mix of such passion yet also gentleness, it took her breath away.

With some of their clothes already littered on the floor, Keanu urged her to sit on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her to unzip her knee high boots, easing them off and running his hands up her thighs.

 He leaned in to kiss her belly whispering against it.

“maybe you should go to sleep little one coz Daddy’s gonna make mummy scream and move around quite a bit soon but don’t worry you’ll be safe inside your cocoon”

Emily giggled

“promises promises”

“Oh, you don’t think I can make you scream any more?”

“I’m happy for you to come and prove me wrong” she joked.

Keanu growled making short work of slipping his hands under her bottom to grasp the waistband of her leggings and pull them off in one go along with her panties. He gave her a hot look and sank his face between her legs, moaning as he tasted her for the first time in 6 weeks.  He pressed the flat of his tongue over her entrance then began a sensuous onslaught on her clit, mixing rapid flicks, gentle sucking and slow rotations of his tongue around the rapidly stiffening nub of nerves.

He soon has her quivering underneath him and she felt the tingling increase, the sensation like a spring coiling up inside, ready to snap. She gently rocked her hips up, pressing her pussy rhythmically into his face and he slipped one finger gently inside, curling it up and softly rubbing over the rough patch of skin. Her orgasm hit her at last,  her screams filling the room, music to his ears. Afterwards, she lay back panting, red in the face, eyes closed, a smile on her face as she whispered

“Ok you win” 

Keanu wasted no time crawling up onto the bed beside her, kissing her forehead 

“you OK?”

“mmmm I so needed that” she breathed. “Your turn now”

 She urged him onto his back and climbed on top of him, pressing her pussy against his rock hard cock making him wince.

Sensing his need was urgent she wasted no time and lifted up to line herself up with him sinking slowly down on his thick  member. They both groaned loudly – him at the heat that surrounded him and her at the girth filling and stretching her.

“You OK” he asked, a worried expression on his face momentarily.

She nodded starting to move up and down and he  let his head fall back on the pillow, relishing the  sensations in his cock and groin.

His hands ran up and down her arms sending shivers through her and he played gently with her tender nipples, relishing the more rounded shape of her breasts.

She lent back a little , allowing his cock to press right up against her g spot causing her to groan and press down on his chest to aid a more rapid pace.

His eyes squeezed shut as he felt the wild rush  of orgasm start and  he gripped hard on her hips as he thrust up dragging her 2nd orgasm out of her and reaching his own.

She fell down against his heaving chest, out of breath and quivering, placing soft kisses on his nipples, neck and mouth.

“I missed you”

“Me too, hope we didn’t disturb little one” he grinned

“I think they’re just fine” and for the first time, she realised that she really believed that.

1  2 3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

[amour-salvatore]

rumours

Part 7

I hope it’s nothing serious, you think to yourself while sitting at the doctors office. He made some tests and now you’re patiently waiting for the results. Evers since yesterday you have been feeling nauseous. Maybe it's from all the overthinking and crying. In some way, your body is going to show you to stop crying and start living again. I mean it's been a week.

The door swings open and the doctor walks in, giving you a small smile.

Okay a smile can't be bad, right?

”So..” he sits down in his desk across from you. ”Now this can be either the best thing you've ever heard or not to so pleasant. Either way it's your choice.”

He sees how nervous you are and cuts to the chase.

„Miss Y/L/N you're pregnant.“ he wears a warm smile looking at you, trying to read your reaction.

The world stops turning for a second. Your breathing is getting fast. Being pregnant is the last thing you had thought of, even though its obvious isn't it? The mood swings, the eating but somehow this gives you hope. As if you're suddenly living for something. Your hand instantly moved to your belly.

”Since when?“ you manage to say. The doctor looks through his papers.

„It’s hard to say but I’d say a month.“

And now the letter in your pocket might not be the only thing you’re carrying around from Jadon.

~

That was a few days ago, you still can’t get it in your head, you’re really pregnant. Also the fact that none of the possible fathers are talking to you just makes it even better.

You stopped trying to call Dele yesterday if he doesn't want to talk to you it's fine. You can't pressure him to anything. He hasn't been home, the thought of him sleeping at a hotel while you're living in his home destroys you. You debated whether you should go back to your parents or not but since you're pregnant you don't really want that lot of attention and people around you. Should he be coming home, you leave in a second. Jadon on the other side doesn't want to be contacted and imagine calling him after weeks to tell him he might be the father of your child. No, you wouldn't do that to him, again. Jadon deserves some peace and even though it breaks your heart to see him struggling in Germany you can't bring it to yourself to just call him to hear his voice again.

But deep down the question whose, it is, is obvious.

Flashbacks from the last time you were in this position hit you. Now it's even harder to carry out this baby. Of course, you're excited about it even though the father might not feel the same way.

Trying to stop overthinking again you try to open up the front door. You've bought some stuff from the store while you were out to make some dinner for yourself and the little baby inside you.

Pushing against the door you enter the house, laying everything on the counter when you suddenly spot Deles keys on the kitchen table.

Your heart starts beating fast. The thought of seeing him again makes you feel like throwing up from all the nervousness.

You carefully walk towards the living room, looking for him. ”Dele?” you shout after him.

Nothing.

Walking into the living room, you're startled when you come face to face with someone else.

”Olivia?” you ask, your heart still beating fast.

She smiles at you. Your heart sinks of disappointment, you thought you could finally talk to Dele.

”Hey, ” she says looking at you while leaning against the wall. “I'm sorry I just walked in here but it was important.”

You take a seat at the dinner table across from her, feeling like the recent events make you feel even more nauseous.

Olivia examines you with wrinkled, as you carefully sit down trying to hold in a sigh of relief, but she doesn't say anything.

”So the reason I'm here is that you left two boys who mean a lot to me broken-hearted.” she says wearing a stern face while her long blonde hair falls on her shoulder. She looks really pretty wearing a beige blazer with beige trousers and high heels. Straight out of a magazine.

Now it's your time to wrinkle your eyebrows. ”Since when does Dele mean something to you?” you ask surprised. You don't know her long but Dele never mentioned her.

„Doesn’t matter.“ she says trying to change the subject. „I know you’re the girl Jadon couldn't get over. It was obvious the moment you looked at each other. The way he looks at you is what every girl wants to be looked at by a boy. Full of affection and admiration.” she says her voice getting quite towards the end. She's not meeting your gaze.

”So you knew it was me and still said that awful comment.” What she said about the abortion in front of you and Jadon hurt and you know by the look on Jadon's face it pained him as well.

”Listen, you have to understand that I was trying for the longest time to get Jadon out of that hole, trying to get his mind off things. He wouldn't tell me what happened. I could just assume and I knew for sure, it must have been pretty bad to break a boy like J.” She looks at you with a half smile and somehow you believe her. That she really tried to help Jadon while you were gone. She takes a seat across from you fumbling with the ends of her jacket.

”When Jadon and I met, it was the first time he came out with Dele and the group of boys. I instantly fell for him or so I thought. Anyway, long story short, I fell for a boy who didn't have space for me in his heart. Y/N I can't tell you how lucky you are to have someone in your life that loves you this much. Some people dream to find their soulmate or at least someone who doesn't play with her feelings.” She says maintaining eye contact the whole time and suddenly you feel bad for Olivia, who seems like she has a perfect life. Gorgeous girl, a successful job and a lot of friends. But what is that good for when you can’t trust anyone or boys just keep on using you.

You both share a look, trying to say you understand each other. She thought she liked Jadon but know everything makes sense. The way Dele spoke to her, how Olivia talked to him so easily and the fact she didn’t like you much. You thought it was because she liked Jadon but no it was Dele, she had an eye on the whole time.

“Does Dele know about your feelings towards him?” You ask her. Her gaze immediately drops to her hands again.

“No he doesn’t. We flirted a lot. He didn’t really care I was with Jadon, probably because he knew Jadon wasn't interested. But ever since you came into the picture, he stopped.”

You just nod trying to understand all these new information she's giving you.

”So that’s why you came here? To tell me all that.” You ask eyebrows raised.

”No, ” she pauses. ” I wanted to tell you, you should go after the one you like. Don't wait too long. Jadon is still bruised and for Dele, he could find someone new in a heartbeat. I have never seen Dele talk about a girl the way he did about you.”

You're debating whether you should tell her about your pregnancy. The way she talks about them makes you trust her and believe what she’s saying. I mean in a way she loved them both just like you still do. They say it's the easiest to open up to a stranger who doesn't know anything about you.

So you told her everything, from meeting Jadon to falling for Dele. She listens as you're talking tears running down your cheeks. Her eyes start getting teary when you talk about your baby and finally about Jadon leaving you.

After you finished talking and relieved you finally got it all off your chest, it makes all sense. It's obvious who your heart belongs to. You just need to find the father of your child and tell him that's him.

That it has always been him.

Taking your phone you ask Olivia where you could find him and head straight to the address after thanking her that she finally gave you the push you needed. And if he doesn't want to be with you then it's okay too. You'll raise this baby by yourself.

1 year later

You rolled around on the bed, your hand reaching beside you but they fell on empty sheets.

Of course they did.

Sitting up in the middle of the bed, holding your head in your hands.

You spot your bag laying on the floor, picking it up you take the small letter out of your purse. It’s all wrinkled and torn at the sides from all the times you looked at it and put it back.

You sigh heavily as you read it again.

”For a slight moment, I thought I had you I really did. ”

You begin to read it all over again turning it around in your hand

”I just wanted you to be happy that's what I always wanted. ”

Slowly you wipe the tears off your cheeks and hold the letter against your chest. This letter means everything to you, and it hurts, it took you so long to realise that.

While laying in bed again, closing your eyes you feel two strong hands gripping your waist.

”Get off me., your hands are cold” you chuckle.

”Then warm me up babe.” he answers pressing his nose in the crease of your neck.

You feel two little hands on your stomach crawling on the bed.

”Oh my goodness.” you smile, taking your baby daughter in your arms and giving her multiple kisses on the face. Her beautiful laugh echoes through the room as you watch her smile. And as always you almost choke with emotions with the way he looks at her. With so much admiration, if it was even possible, it made you love him even more.

He spots the letter on the bed.

”You read it again?” he says his voice low.

”It's a beautiful letter.” you half smile holding your baby.

”Sometimes I think you want to make yourself purposely cry.” Jadon chuckles. ”You were the first person I ever really loved.” He kisses your lips.

He takes your daughter off you, ”Hey Dada wants some kisses too.” he does a silly face which just makes her break into laughter again.

You watch the love of your life with your daughter. She looks so much like him, she has the same brown eyes and that beautiful smile of her father, you love so much. You thank God every day that she's healthy and brought you and Jadon closer again.

After you flew to Germany to find him, he was startled when you told him you were pregnant. Ever since that day you and Jadon have been together nearly every day he took care of you while you were pregnant and ever since your baby princess is born she's the only thing on his mind. It was all destiny.

”Dele and Olivia are coming over later.” He informs you, interrupting your thoughts.

”I know Olivia texted me already. Apparently, Dele wants to propose.” you say smiling from ear to ear. You're glad, they finally found their happiness.

”Now come down I made breakfast.” He says pulling the covers down your body.

Carefully you put the letter back in your pocket, and walk towards him with your baby in your arms.

”I’m glad it wasn't just rumours Jadon.” you say looking him in the eyes.

”In someway I'm glad we went through what we did because it gave us our baby daughter.” you smile at him.

Jadon pulls you closer by your waist softly kissing your lips.

”Me too Y/N.”

[this-is-freeridge]

The Air Between Us

Chapter Fourteen: Mari prepares herself to take the next step with Trey.

Warning: this fic deals with dark themes, including but not limited to teen pregnancy, rape, drug abuse, murder, abortion, underage drinking and underage sex. Read at your own risk.

Find all other chapters here.

Find the better version here!

“That’s not a very scary costume,” Trey said as he picked Mari up from her house, a smile playing on his lips. “You look beautiful, though,”

Mari looked down at her makeshift costume. With Halloween as an excuse, she wore the dress that Abuelita had made her for her birthday - it was gorgeous, and it made her feel gorgeous too. It wasn’t every day she had that feeling.

She had paired the dress with a tall silver tiara, a bouquet of plastic roses and a sash (which was actually one of those bride-to-be ones that she had turned inside-out) that she had written MISS UNIVERSE on in black sharpie.

“Why thank you,” she said with a curtsy and then looked him up and down. He wore a black and white striped suit with a black button-up, his hair looked like he had stuck his hand in an electrical socket and he had black circles painted messily around his eyes. “You look...sleep-deprived,”

“Oh come on, Beetlejuice is a classic!” He said with so much enthusiasm that Mari almost got excited with him. Almost, but feelings like happiness and excitement and enthusiasm were hard to come by lately.

Her trip to the hospital hadn’t helped much. Latisha was great; she was kind and gentle and did everything she could to make Mari feel comfortable, but she still couldn’t bring herself to smile.

Trey and Ruben had been there the whole time, so she should have felt supported, yet she had still felt alone.

Jamal had been ecstatic when Mari had bought him home a real hospital gown for his costume, but as much as she forced a smile for him, she still couldn’t feel the excitement.

Her blood test results would be back in a few days, and they said they weren’t expecting to find anything unusual, but she was still terrified.

But she wouldn’t tell anyone that, they would only worry and it wasn’t worth it. She would be fine, she reminded herself, she was just being melodramatic.

“Wouldn’t know, haven’t seen it,” Mari shrugged as they walked to Trey’s front door.

“What?” he gasped, feigning shock as he fumbled for his keys

As she waited, Mari took in Trey’s house. It was the first time she’d seen it, but the rundown shack before her was the last place she had expected Trey to live. Smaller than the Martinez house and in worse condition than Oscar’s.

Unlocking the door and throwing it open, Trey gestured inside with a sort of after you motion. When Mari stepped past the threshold, the first thing she noticed was a lack of furniture.

Against the far wall of the living room (that doubled as the entrance to the house, and connected straight to a small kitchen with no dining area) there was a small sofa with fabric tearing at the seams and foam popping out at the corners. There was an old, chunky flatscreen sitting atop a cubed-bookshelf that’d been turned on its side to double as a TV stand. Between the TV and the sofa sat a worn coffee table; the varnish on the wood had started peeling and one of the legs was being held together by duct tape.

This house was not the kind of place that a man in finance and a woman in events lived.

But Mari knew better than to say anything just yet. Instead, she smiled politely and let him usher her inside. As she stepped over the threshold, she remembered the first time she had walked into Spooky’s bedroom. It had been intimate, like he was showing her something that only she could see, it was exciting and scary all at the same time.

Walking into Trey’s house was nothing like that. It was scary, but only because it was unfamiliar. The walls were cold and the room was dark and mostly empty and nothing was familiar. Nothing felt safe. The moment she stepped inside she was on edge; her skin crawled and her mind screamed.

Telling herself that it was just her anxiety, reminding herself not to be so dramatic, she set herself down on the sofa. She fidgeted with the cushions on the couch, fidgeted with her dress and her sash. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying everything she could to be comfortable, but no matter what she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“We only have generic brand soda and popcorn,” Trey said as he rushed to the kitchen, putting the popcorn in the microwave and getting two cans labelled Cola from the fridge. “They’re still pretty good, though,”

Mari took the soda with a thank you and set it down on the coffee table, frowning. Even the Martinezes could afford better stuff, and they weren’t exactly rolling in spare change.

“Trey,” Mari called, straightening up as Trey placed Friday the 13th in the DVD player - just another thing that made Mari question how much money his family could really have. “What is your family really doing in Brentwood?”

“Uh...” he scratched at the back of his neck and averted his gaze. The microwave beeped and he breathed a sigh of relief and bolted to the kitchen with a “popcorn’s ready.”

But Mari was persistent and stubborn and he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily. So she waited patiently on the sofa, arms crossed casually as the movie played in the background.

“What’s going on?” She asked the moment he stepped back into sight. Trey almost dropped the bowl of popcorn as he jumped at her voice, but tried to quickly compose himself.

“What do you mean?” He asked, placing the bowl down on the table and then settling down on the couch beside her. It was a little cramped, Mari had to shuffle her legs onto his lap just for the both of them to fit. One hand rested on her thigh, the other was thrown around her shoulder. Mari tried to lean into him, to feel those same sparks she felt when Oscar touched her this way, so pure but so intimate, but there was nothing.

“I mean I feel like I don’t know anything about you. You’ve seen me pass out and go to the hospital, you’ve met my family, and all I know about you is that your dad is in finance, you mom is in events and you moved here from Brentwood. But, Trey, is that even the truth? Because you haven’t said why you moved, to Freeridge, of all places, if your family has so much money?”

He averted her gaze, just for a second, and squeezed her thigh a little as though he needed a moment to build up the courage to speak again.

“It wasn’t really a...lie, you know?” He started, looking up at her like a kicked puppy, “I mean my dad does work in finance, but he left me and my mom a couple of months ago. He got some big promotion that meant he had to move to Seattle. At first, he was gonna just take the commute, y’know? He got an apartment there so he could stay during the week and come home on weekends, but he uh, he liked the bachelor life. So he just stopped coming home, sent a lawyer to the house to serve mom the divorce papers and tell us that we had forty-eight hours to clear out of the house before it was put on the market,”

“So he just left you both with nothing? What about your mom, didn’t she have a job?”

There was a bitter edge to the way Trey laughed in response. “She was a suburban housewife with a rich husband, she never had to work. We were always taken care of, and then we weren’t. One of her old college friends hooked her up with this catering job, that’s where she is now, and this house was the only place we could afford. I got a job to help out, try and save up until we can move somewhere better,”

Mari’s heart hammered in her chest. This boy before her was nothing like the bumbling-but-loveable idiot she knew. Where he was usually bubbly and excitable, he was now solemn and serious. She realised now that had been through things too, and he was working harder than she had known to make things work. Maybe they had more in common than she had thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” She whispered, searching his face for an answer.

He flashed her a weak smile as he met her gaze. “I’ve seen you with that other guy, I know I’m not very tough, or cool. I’m not a bad boy, I can’t compete with a guy in a gang, but I had to impress you somehow,”

A slow smile spread across Mari’s face at his confession. She hadn’t realised he’d tried so hard for her to notice him. Sitting up on her knees and shuffling closer to him, she decided that it was kind of endearing.

“And you thought that pretending you had money was the way to do that?”

Trey visibly gulped as she moved closer, so close he could smell her cherry lipgloss. “Um, yeah, I- I thought you’d like me more if you thought I could buy you nice things,”

Mari shook her head, dark curls falling over her shoulders.

“I like this better,” she said with a smile, “I like knowing you’re real, like the rest of us,”

Trey smiled back, his hand coming up to cup her face before sliding around to the nape of her neck. Her heart hammered, faster and faster until it hurt. This was the moment, she thought. They were alone and he was opening up and if this were a movie, this would be the moment.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, she knew that much. He had been sweet and patient and he deserved it. And she liked him enough. Truly, she did. The only thing she didn’t know was why it felt like this; why her chest was tight and her hands were shaking and why she wanted to run away screaming.

It shouldn’t feel like this. It never did with Oscar.

He isn’t Oscar, she told hers. This was Trey and he was her boyfriend and this was inevitable.

It was inevitable.

So she leaned into him and kissed him, trying not to pull away when he kissed her back. It was messy and unpracticed, whether that was because Trey had never kissed someone like this before - so intense and passionate - or because Mari had never kissed him like this, she didn’t know. His tongue slid over her lower lip but he didn’t taste like Corona and cigars.

His free hand gripped at her hips and pulled her closer and closer until she was almost on his lap. He kissed her like he was trying to devour her, gripping her so tightly as though she’d disappear otherwise.

The touch of his skin didn’t make hers burn, but instead made it crawl. Deep in the pit of her stomach, where there should be excitement and desire, there was only fear and a strange, twisted feeling. She felt sick.

That feeling of discomfort that sat in her chest, that’d been there since they arrived, grew until it was about to burst. Tears sprung to her eyes, so she squeezed them shut to keep them from falling and jumped away from the boy beneath her.

“I can’t do this,” she muttered between gasps of breath, “I’m sorry, I’ll call you tomorrow. I have to go,”

Trey didn’t have a chance to chase after her as she grabbed her shoes and her plastic roses and raced out the door. She was halfway down the street by the time he had picked his jaw up off the floor and peeled himself off the couch.

The warm October air whipped against her face, her hair sticking to her tears as she walked. Harsh sobs racked her small body and she shook with every step. Her mind was racing; she had no idea why she had felt like that with him. She had been with Oscar before, why was it so hard with Trey? Wasn’t she over her irrational fear of intimacy?

She dreaded the thought of calling him the next day, but she knew she would have to. This date had been planned, she had known his parents would be gone, she knew the expectation. She knew what she was getting herself into, so why did she feel so panicked during the moment?

“Mariana?” An angry but familiar voice called. With a groan, she wiped desperately at her face but kept walking. Embarrassed and anxious, the last thing she wanted to do was tell Spooky what’d happened. She sped up when she heard Oscar tell the others to go in without him and then the sound of footsteps crossing the road to her.

“Hey, mami!” He called, closer this time. When she didn’t reply a rough hand grabbed at her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“What?!” She snapped, though her voice broke.

The frustration on his face faded away into pure concern and the grip on her arm loosened just a little. She cursed and turned away, wiping frantically at her face as though that’d stop her tears and as though that would make Spooky forget he had seen it.

Why did he always have to see her like this?

Her body shook as a harsh sob ripped through her. The hand on her arm disappeared, just for a second, and then Oscar was wrapping his arms around her.

Head tucked safely under his chin, she let him hold her as she cried out all of her fear and frustration. His arms were thick and warm and he was holding her so firmly that she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to (and she didn’t want to).

“I’m sorry,” Mari whispered, referring to both the state she was in and the way her tears were staining his white tank. “I’m a mess, I-”

“Don’t do that, Mari,” he cut her off, his arms falling from her sides to take her bouquet of roses. “Don’t blame yourself. Come on, it’s not safe for you to be outside on Halloween. Let’s go inside,”

He took her hand and led her across the road and into the house. Letting him manhandle her, Mari didn’t say a thing as he sat her down on the couch, removed her sash and tiara then placed them with the flowers.

He disappeared into the kitchen for just a second and returned with a glass of water.

“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile. Worried she might vomit from her whirlwind of emotions, she took only a small sip before putting it aside.

Spooky took the space on the couch beside her. Before Mari could protest, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her onto his lap, taking her back into his arms. Biting her inner cheek to hold back tears, she leaned into his chest and sighed, relishing in the feeling of his hand running through her dark curls.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He asked, quietly but with a thinly veiled edge to his voice, an edge that told Mari he was pissed. “Because I swear to god, if that kid tried something that you didn’t want, I’m gonna beat his goddamn face in,”

“It’s not...” Mari shook her head, “it wasn’t like that. We were kissing and I just freaked out. It was me. There’s something wrong with me, Oscar. Trey, he…he was touching me and I wanted to be okay with it but I wasn’t; I felt disgusting and I felt scared and I just kept wishing it was you,”

The fingers threading through her hair paused for a second. Mari shuffled into a sitting position on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips and her dress hiked up to her thighs.

“Whenever someone touches me,” she continues, searching his eyes as though they held all the secrets to her mind, “I want to scream and cry and hide. But not you. I don’t feel like that with you. It’s...kinda the opposite. I always want you to touch me because you make me forget that it could ever be scary. How do you do that?”

He didn’t respond immediately, he couldn’t - somehow, this girl had rendered him speechless. There was so much he wanted to say; that he was sorry she felt like that with Trey but that he wasn’t sorry for how she felt with him, that he felt the same about her, that he was sorry he had tried to avoid it for so long.

But for a spelling-bee champ, Oscar was never very good with his words - not when he had to use them to tell another person how he felt. To admit his feelings would mean he had to let down the walls he had spent so long building, remove the mask he had perfected and though he was sure (as sure as he could be, at least) he was ready to let Mari in, it was hard to begin.

So he didn’t say anything. instead, Oscar let out a growl beneath his breath and without a second thought, he swooped up to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. One hand in her hair and the other hiking her dress further up her hips, he ran his tongue across her lips, tasting cherry and something unfamiliar.

And then he remembered.

Trey had kissed her. Something hot burned deep in the pit of his stomach. His insides twisted and he felt sick. Rage fuelled him as his grip on her tightened and his kisses bruised her lips. He hated that someone else got to do this; to touch her skin, even just to hold her. Oscar wanted that all to himself, he wanted her all to himself.

The cholo would be the first to admit that he wasn’t a very good person; he was aggressive and rash and selfish, and this was no excuse. He knew she had a boyfriend, and that she would probably regret this in the morning, but how could he stop himself when she was right here in his arms and telling him she wants him?

It would be a lie if he were to say he didn’t like being the one to make her smile, to make her feel beautiful and to turn her nightmares into daydreams. He wanted all of her. He wanted Mariana Martinez, mind, body and soul, and he would do whatever he had to do to make sure she knew that.

They had tried this before, no strings attached, but now as she let out a whine and kissed him like it would be the last time, Oscar thought that maybe he wouldn’t mind the strings. It shouldn’t have taken this - Mari running away from someone else in tears and finding comfort with him - to realise it. He couldn’t help but be angry at himself for putting her through this, all because he was too scared to admit his feelings - not to her, or even to himself, but to the world. He was Spooky, after all. He had a reputation; he was tough and scary and dangerous and he was falling for a girl from San Jose who looked like she could break at the slightest touch.

But she was so much stronger than she realised, and she had never been afraid.

Oscar refused to be afraid any longer.

“Oscar, please,” Mari breathed, leaning into him as his hands found their way behind her and then slipped beneath her panties.

“Tell me what you want, mami,” he whispered against her lips and squeezing lightly where his hands rested on her behind.

Mari remembered a time not too long ago when she was standing before this man, begging him to tell her what he wanted. He had refused her pleas and broken her heart but she was in no position to do the same. Oscar was what she wanted, in any way she could have him.

“I want you, Oscar,” she told him, a quiver in her voice as she remembered Trey, somewhere in the back of her mind. Guilt started to eat at her insides; she had a boyfriend and he was at home thinking that he was what she wanted when he couldn’t even compare.

Refocusing on the man before her, she pushed all other thoughts aside and ran her hands up his stomach to his chest, pulling his black wife-beater with her. He lifted his arms, allowing her to remove the clothing and throw it aside.

Peppering kisses across his bare chest, Mari rolled her hips slowly as Oscar let his head fall back and his eyes close in pleasure. Feeling him grow beneath her, she rocked her hips again, harder this time and letting a small moan escape her lips at the friction.

“Fuck, Mariana,” Oscar murmured, grabbing her hips and lifting her slightly. Mari stilled, kneeling above him as he reached between them to loosen his shorts, then lifted his hips just enough to push them down past his knees.

He licked his lips, pushing her panties aside and watching her lower herself onto him.

“You know I love you in that dress, mami,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss and nip at her neck as she adjusted to the feeling.

Oscar let her take the lead as she lifted and lowered her hips, fucking him slowly. She needed to take control of something; of Oscar and her sexuality. Mari needed this, he knew that and he would be damned if he wasn’t enjoying it.

His lips found her collarbone and her chest where her breasts were exposed above the neckline of the dress. He made sure to leave his mark; sucking and biting and licking to soothe the skin. He wanted everyone to know that she was taken.

Mari reached her climax quickly, finishing with a cry of Oscar’s name and burying her head into his broad shoulder. Her hips bucked and her movements became erratic as she rode him to climax. She watched with a smile as he came - it was a rush knowing that she could pull him apart and break him down like this. The effect she seemed to have on him made her feel powerful and confident and beautiful and she never wanted to lose that feeling. She never wanted to lose him.

Suddenly tired, as though the night’s events had only just caught up to her, she collapsed in his arms. He held her close, without a word, not sure exactly what to say first. Does he apologise for how he’s acted? Does he thank her? Does he kiss her again and tell her that he’s ready to give her what she wants?

Spooky never got the chance to make that decision as his phone started to ring.

“Fuck,” he huffed, furious at the interruption. He wanted to ignore it, but he knew better - he was a leader and he had responsibilities.

Clearing her throat, Mari shuffled off of his lap. She pulled her dress down past her hips as Oscar reached for his phone and put it to his ear.

“What?” He snapped. Though his features softened as the person on the other end spoke, Oscar clearly didn’t like what they had to say as he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there soon,”

Mari said nothing as she watched him, her heart sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second.

With a resigned sigh, he picked his clothes up off the floor.

“I gotta go,” he said, pulling his tank over his head and not holding her gaze for too long. “That was Cesar, they’ve got trouble in Brentwood. I’ll pick them up, make sure Ruby’s okay for you,”

Mari offered a small smile and nodded. “Thanks, Oscar,”

How could she be so naive to think things would be different this time? Of course, he had no problem leaving; this was just a quick fuck to him, it always was between them. Spooky didn’t care that she had a boyfriend, he didn’t care that she had just betrayed someone else to be with him, he only cared about getting what he wanted.

He should’ve left her out there on the street.

“Can you stay?” He asked all of a sudden, crossing the room to her and bringing a hand up to cup her face. This wasn’t how he had wanted the night to end, but he didn’t have time to get into everything he wanted to say right now. “Just wait here until I get back?”

Although she nodded, it was a lie - she would be long gone soon after he left.

Taglist: @robinsdolan @lostgirl219@kseniainneverland @ravengreystone@weediskindabad @moistdollerbills @javoqetal@kenzie44469 @goddessate@blackdepressoexpresso @classyputa @babygirl-htx @wonderlandlovelove @cacapoodlepoo @agent-femmefatale @elliesshitofablog@daydreamer0307 @harduy @elizabeth-santana-98 @lonelyyblues

[luki-fanfic]

KHR/BNHA Fanfic: The Restaurant with Sushi That’s Out of This World P.2

When it comes to food, Aizawa will happily subsist on protein packets and energy drinks.  However, his friends and co-workers don’t seem to understand the perfectly logical reasoning for this, and he often finds himself on the receiving end of leftovers.

As such, the first time he becomes aware of Hizashi’s newest food obsession is when a bag is dumped on his desk, followed by a very excited “Shouta you have to try this you’ll never eat anything else ever again!” from his oldest friend.

He’d be more excited if Hizashi didn’t utter something similar every other time he tried a new restaurant, but at least the sushi is recognisable.  Hizashi’s love of ‘fusion dining’ had been a dark time in the UA staff room. Cementoss still can’t look at clam chowder without running to the toilet.

Long years of experience have taught him that Hizashi wont let him rest until he’s at least sampled some of it – and with a long set upon sigh (that’s only partially for effect), he snaps the chopsticks in half and pops the closet piece into his mouth.

Flavour immediately bursts onto his tongue, and he pauses in surprise.  

It’s very good.  Almost too-good-for-his-paycheck good.

From his side, Hizashi starts to cackle.

“I know right?  I don’t know what Yamamoto’s secret is but I’m not eating sushi anywhere else.”

Aizawa eats another piece, lips stumbling into a smile at the taste, and finally turns to Hizashi.

“Where did you get...this?”

He trails off when he realises the only reason Hizashi isn’t eating with him is because he’s frantically changing.  The lower half of his uniform is still on, but he’s pulling off a suit jacket and some very large t-shirt he’s pretty sure All Might left in the staff room last week.  His hair is mangled, he’s clearly tried to put Present Mic’s gelled up spectacle into a ponytail in an attempt make it fall flat the way it does naturally – or at least more naturally than the several tons of gel automatically makes it - and for the life of him, Aizawa cannot figure out why.  That ‘do’ stays in place until Hizashi has a free hour, access to hot running water and a change of clothes.  Present Mic wouldn’t be caught dead with hair that wasn’t ‘up and about like the hands of his listeners Shouta!’

Hizashi doesn’t even seemed fazed by Shouta’s confusion, and continues to grin as he pulls off the shirt and starts rooting around his desk, pulling out Present Mic’s jacket and speaker.

“It’s from Takesushi, that restaurant that took over from the hot pot joint that closed last month?  Went in out of curiosity, but the sushi keeps bringing me back.”

Back in uniform, he grabs his own pair of chopsticks and jumps into his own chair, schooching it closer to Shouta and shoving a piece into his mouth.  “Decided I finally couldn’t keep it from my best friend, especially when it’s well within walking distance.”

“Although apparently unfriendly to heroes?” Aizawa asks, hand gesturing to the mess that is currently Hizashi’s hair.  The man grimaces, hand rising to check out the damage before aborting the action in exchange for more sushi.

“Well, that’s a long story” Hizashi admits.  “Present Mic ‘may’ have ruffled some feathers first time he went in, so I try to not to go in as a hero.  Plus I’m kind of on speaking terms with the owner, so I’d rather he not put two and two together.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow.

“Speaking terms?  How much sushi have you eaten this month?”

Tellingly, Hizashi’s eyes flicker down to his belly before he offers a sheepish grin.  Aizawa rolls his eyes, but eats another piece.  He’s not entirely sure he can blame him all things considered.

“You know what, when I can finally drag you out for a proper meal, I’ll introduce you.  The two of you will hit it off in a heartbeat. You’ve so much in common, Yamamoto’s devoted to his work, fosters a bunch of troubled kids, and considers me his best friend in town.  

“How long has he been in town?” Is Aizawa’s automatic reply, and Hizashi mock pouts.

“Shouta!”

Aizawa ignores him, choosing to go over the earlier statements.

“I don’t foster kids.”

That immediately has Hizashi grinning.

“True, but you’re such a mother hen to your students you might as well adopt them.  I’ve got money riding on one of them accidentally calling you ‘Dadzawa-Sensei’ by the end of the year.”

Aizawa scoffs.  That little bet has been going since he started teaching, and Hizashi hasn’t won yet.  The man chooses to ignore the dismissal, and pats Aizawa on the back before grabbing the last piece of sushi in the box.

“Trust me Shouta, when I get you in there, you’ll wonder how you ever lived without it.”

Normally, Hizashi spends a month inhaling his latest craving before getting bored and looking for the next new thing.  But when the deadline comes and goes, Takesushi take out boxes are still littering the staff room.  Granted, they’re not all from the Voice Hero – he’s infected half the teachers at this point, and Aizawa has even started seeing the boxes pop up in students hands at lunch time.  Takesushi is clearly here to stay, which means Hizashi might actually make good on making Aizawa socialise.

He’s walking towards the school, mentally forming an excuse should his friend try to coax him out tonight, when his eyes are drawn to a crowd near the side of the street, and the smell of explosives hits his nose.

A few moments later, he’s pushed through to the front of the crowd, to find part of a wall still smoking, and three men he vaguely remembers as low level problems on former patrols thoroughly beaten up and in cuffs, being pulled towards an ambulance by officers.  It doesn’t take long to fill in the story – the crowd is buzzing with information.

“-fourth fight this week isn’t it?”

“-really knew what they were doing.  Those men couldn’t even touch him.”

“-ink its one of the UA students?”

“-ain squabble?”

“Not in this neighbourhood.  But what if-”

“ust be some kind of vendetta.  Did they find whoever they attacked?”

“Vanished when they heard the sirens.  Oh!  Could we have a vigilante?”

Aizawa lets the voices wash over him as he takes in the damage, before moving away from the scene.

It’s not his jurisdiction.  It’s not even his day to patrol, but whenever he finds himself with spare time that morning, he finds himself digging through reports for vandalism for the local area.

What he finds confirms what he’s heard.  This is the fourth fight in the area around UA that has ended with explosions.  The first two were against teens from other schools.  The boys from the first fight all had records, while the second had apparently been trying to attack or intimidate another student (‘looked as timid as a mouse and squealed like a puppy’ according to the witness reports).  The third was when police started taking notice – the opponent was a grown man with several accounts of indecency towards woman who had been cornering a young woman who supposedly had run off with her mysterious defender.

All in all, there’s not much of a pattern.  It certainly doesn’t appear to be the work of a villain, or even a vigilante – teenagers and perverts suggests something more random.  The work of someone with a short temper, plenty of pride, and considerable protectiveness or chivalry.

By lunchtime, he’s wondering if he’s curious enough to request the original witness reports for the incidents when he hears Bakugo screaming from the corridor.

“IT WASN’T FUCKING ME!”

His head drops to hit the table, but Aizawa still finds the energy to get to his feet and walk to the door.  When he takes in the scene, his senses immediately go to high alert.

There’s a police officer in the corridor, trying to calm his volatile student down and failing miserably.  The second Bakugo realises he has an audience, his face snaps round to face Aizawa and points at the officer accusingly.

“There’s some goddamn shitty copycat running around and these morons are here bothering me rather than doing their fucking jobs!” Bakugo snarls, hands smoking.

Ah.

Part of Aizawa just wants to sigh and crawl back into the classroom.  Due to the nature of hero training, the police officers districts local to UA all get a list of students and their quirks.  Considering Bakugo’s score on the entrance exam, it wouldn’t have taken long to find a possible suspect.

Still...a quirk is not enough reason for the police to confront a student.  And certainly not without approaching his home room teacher first. Choosing to ignore the rage unless the boy actually starts sparking, Aizawa turns his attention to the officer.

“Officer…?”

“Tanaka” the man offers.

“Officer Tanaka, What makes you think my student was the one responsible?”

Bakugo almost starts hissing, while the Tanaka sighs.

“From the damage done to the street in each incident, they clearly went against someone with an explosive quirk.  Nothing else matches the blast pattern, and our recent victims all clearly insisted the ‘foreign looking, pale-haired ass-hole with a foul mouth’ tried to blow them up.”

“FOREIGN?” Bakugo howls.  “I’m a hundred percent Japanese you fucker!”

...But he doesn’t look it, Aizawa admits to himself.  Hair and eye colour are no longer any way to tell ethnicity in a quirk-filled world, but old ways of thinking, especially in countries like Japan, still cling on in some neighbourhoods.

And even disregarding that, Bakugo is already proven the other two parts of the description fit him to a tee.

“Regardless, I will need to know your whereabouts for these incidents” Tanaka tells Bakugo.  

“Do as he says” Aizawa adds, and when it appears the teen is about to erupt again, quickly adds-

“I will be aiding Officer Tanaka in this investigation, and while I have no doubt of your innocence, providing the necessary proof will save everyone a great deal of time and effort.”

The boy dearly wants to blast them both – the mental battle in his eyes would almost be hilarious if not for the situation – but he keeps himself in control.

“Fine” he spits out.  “Give me the times and I’ll tell you where I was. But if you don’t find this fucker I’m going hunting myself.”

Of that, Aizawa has no doubt.  Looks like he’ll be working late today.

“Drinks tonight?” Hizashi asks when Aizawa staggers into the staff room at the end of the day.

“I can’t” Aizawa.  “There’s a situation that I need to deal with.  I’m meeting with law enforcement in half an hour.”

“What!” Hizashi squawks, standing up in indignation.  “You aren’t on patrol tonight!  I checked.”

Aizawa just takes the opportunity to slump down on the sofa, head leaning back as far as it’ll go on the back.

“It’s student related.  There’s reports of illegal quirk use, and one of my first years matches the description.”

Hizashi gives a low whistle.  “Ouch.  Do you think-”

“No” Aizawa answers emphatically.  “But fingers have to point somewhere unless it’s stopped.  Officer Tanaka and I will be canvassing the area to try and get a more accurate description, hopefully before another incident takes place.”

He runs a hand through his hair before continuing.

“So far, all we know is we have a dozen witnesses insisting they’ve seen fights in the neighbourhoods north of UA where a teenager used explosions to fight off his opponents” he replies.  “A loud, violent, pale haired teenager with little respect for authority and an exceptionally foul mouth. It was a close enough description to Bakugo to bring law enforcement here.”

It does, admittedly, sound a lot like Bakugo Katsuki.  But whatever his fellow classmates might think, Aizawa knows Bakugo’s type – he wouldn’t risk his reputation by illegally using his quirk in broad daylight, and he’s strong enough not to have to. Which means there probably is an unintentional copycat running around.

It helps that two of his provided alibi’s have proven iron clad – he was still in school for the first attack, and he was caught on camera in a subway station for the third, but Aizawa needs to nip this in the bud.  Illegal quirk use can ruin a hero’s career before it begins – if Bakugo continues to be associated, it wont even matter that he’s not responsible, and the explosive teen is going to have enough challenges in making it to graduation without loading another teen’s mistakes to his file.

“...You sure they were all near the North?”

Aizawa huffs.  “Yes.”

“...Anywhere near Seirin High or...the restaurant district?”

Aizawa stills, and pulls his head up.  Hizashi looks worried, fingers twisting together in a way he only does when he’s feeling guilty.

“Hizashi?”

His friend winces.

“I...may, possibly, know a non-UA teenager living in that district who fits that description?”

Aizawa mentally recalls the area, and a restaurant quickly flashes into his mind.  As do Hizashi’s many long conversations regarding the infamous ‘Yamamoto’ and his brood.”

His head flops back with a heavy thud.

“You didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“I have mentioned him” Hizashi defends.  “I mean, I don’t know for sure what his quirk is but-”

“Who is he?” Aizawa asks, before Hizashi realises that he’s been toning out quick a bit of the Yamamoto story recap the last few weeks.

“Gokudera” HIzashi offers.  “Gokudera Hayato.  Sixteen, silver hair, bit of a smoking habit, very, very smart, and extremely protective of what’s his.  Not certain about his quirk, but I’ve heard enough in-jokes about his ‘explosive personality’ to make assumptions.

Aizawa gives a long groan.

“Don’t suppose he’s not fully Japanese?”

“Half-Italian I think.”

Jackpot.

Thankfully, Officer Tanaka agrees with him about the possible ID, and they head straight for the restaurant.  It’s closed – judging from the hours a temporary break so the staff can change for evening service – but the door is unlocked and they head inside.  

There’s only one figure in view, a man in chef whites behind the counter, who looks up at their arrival. The second he registers them, he sighs, heard lifting up towards the ceiling.

“I should have known it was too good to last” he mutters.  “So, which one is it?”

It’s the tone of a long-suffering man who knows full well what he can’t control.  Aizawa can sympathise.

Officer Tanaka on the other hand, just seems amused.

“Yamamoto Tsuyoshi?  I’m Officer Tanaka Shinji, and this is the Erase Hero, Eraserhead.  I’m afraid we have reports of illegal quirk use, and a possibly suspect is registered as living at this residence” he says.  “Eraser head is here due to the nature of the damage.”

Yamamoto’s eyes glance in Aizawa’s direction, and he nods in greeting.

“Witnesses are describing a quirk which is unfortunately similar to one of our students and causing problems.  Parts of the neighbourhood are showing signs of explosive-”

The sushi shop owner doesn’t even wait for the heroes to stop speaking, taking a step back and hollering into the kitchen.

“Gokudera! Get down here now!”

There’s a set of stairs just to the side of the kitchen heading upstairs, just out of sight for customers, and Aizawa hears some muffled sounds from above, followed by thumping, before heavy footfalls announce their suspect.  

It’s a teenager with silver hair and a delicate bone structure that could almost be called pretty if he wasn’t scowling, and adorned with enough gothic accessories to open up a jewellery store.  All things considered, he can’t really see any resemblance to his student – except maybe a similar taste in skull-motif fashion.  When he storms into the restaurant and spots the heroes standing by the door, he scowls even further, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“What the fuck are these bastards doing here?”

Ah, there it is.  Bakugo’s trademark mouth and disrespect.

Yamamoto, clearly used to the language, merely ignores it.  “What have you been doing after school?  You told me you handled it legally.”

The teen bristled.  “I did!  I checked the laws on self defence six times.  They’re stupid as all fuck, but very clear. And those ass-holes used their powers first!”

Officer Tanaka steps forward.  “Gokudera Hayato?”

The teens head snaps back.

“What?”

Tanaka quickly rattles off the dates and incidents in question, but Gokudera merely rolls his eyes.

“Sure, that was all me” he says, as if he hasn’t just confessed to breaking the law on multiple occasions.  “They all needed to be taught a lesson in just where they stood on the food chain.”

The policeman is already shaking his head in disbelief.

“Gokudera, if someone intentionally uses their quirk on you, you should be contacting the authorities rather than fighting back with your own-”

“Ah!” The teen shoves a finger at the officer’s face.  “I didn’t use my ‘quirk’ so didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tanaka is not impressed, pushing the hand away and glaring at the teen.

“Then they just happened to get admitted to hospital with blast marks and chemical residue on them?”

Gokudera throws his hands into the hair.

“God this place is so backwards!  No, they didn’t just happen to get those, that’s a pretty natural conclusion to someone getting up close and personal with explosives!”

“Are you saying they got too close to your explosive quirk and it was unintentional?” Aizawa asks, although he’s pretty sure he’s missing something here.  The teen glares at him, and then from...somewhere, pulls out what appears to be a stick of dynamite.

“No” he replies.  “My quirk is too dangerous for losers like that.  I used, old school, real explosives.  You bastards get it now?”

“Gokudera!”

Eraserhead frowns – the man in front of them had snapped the name, but it had echoed from above.

Ah, at the top of the stairs was a skinny teen with fluffy brown hair, looking absolutely horrified at the situation.  

This must be the ‘mouse and puppy’ from the reports.

When he draws everyone’s eyes, he flinches, shuffling down the stairs. Eraserhead expects him to cower behind the puffed up delinquent at the bottom, but instead he steps in front, arm moving just a tiny fraction – an attempt to keep the teen where he is.

More astonishing is the look of awe that appears on Gokudera’s face as he takes in his friend.  It’s the same look Midoriya gets when All Might so much as breathes in his direction.  Idol worship in its purest form.

What kind of relationship do these two have?

“Tsunayoshi, this really isn’t something you need to be here for” Yamamoto offers, thought Aizawa notes there’s not much force to the words. Tsunayoshi just shakes his head.

The brunet is clearly nervous, but he’s ready to protect his friend however necessary.  Eraserhead appreciates the sentiment.

But it doesn’t change the facts.

“So, your quirk” Eraserhead begins, turning attention back to Gokudera. “It doesn’t involve explosions?”

The taller teen snarls, brandishing the stick.

“No! It’s not a fucking quirk!  What the fuck is wrong with you people? How many times do I have to say it!”

“Gokudera!”

The teen’s face falls as the boy in front of him chides his outburst, looks away in contrition.  The fluffy brunet gives a quick sigh, before stepping forward.

“It’s not his quirk sir, I promise.  He just really likes explosions – he uses flashy...fireworks?”

The boys sags a little at the last work, and Tsuyoshi covers his eyes with a palm.  Clearly, ‘fireworks’ isn’t quite accurate.

Still, if it’s not a quirk, it’s a matter for police, not heroes, and Bakugo’s reputation will be clear.

“Can you prove it?”

Gokudera rolls his eyes and grabs a pair of chopsticks from the same table. He glances over at Tsuna, who then glances at Tsuyoshi, who gives a nod of permission.

The teen’s hand glows red, almost as if it’s on fire – though it focuses more on the rings the boy wears than the skin – and the chopsticks disintegrate into nothing.

Eraserhead's eyes widen as the flames vanish.

“Disintegration. That’s my ‘quirk’” Gokudera snaps, though the last word is spoken with an emotion Eraserhead can’t quite place.  “If I’d used that on those bastards, they wouldn’t have lived long enough to complain.”

This is honestly not how Aizawa saw this conversation going at all. Clearly, Tanaka isn’t much better, but when it becomes clear Gokudera is about to rant, Aizawa pulls the man back to keep him from interfering.

“First ass-holes thought they could intimidate me just cause they had physical quirks, as if that was enough to scare me – I don’t even remember their fucking names!  Second group of bastards thought they could attack the Ten...Tsuna. I couldn’t let that stand!  And that pervert tried to flash Kyoko! He should be grateful I’m the one that was there!  If was Turf Top he’d never walk again!”

“...And today?” Aizawa asked, when it appeared the teen was winding down. Gokudera amps up his scowl and looks away.

“Jerks from ‘Sushi No Go’ and ‘Sushero’ who aren’t happy Yamamoto’s sushi’s better than theirs” he says.  “Thought they could send a guys here and wreck the atmosphere.  Sent them packing weeks ago, but guess they thought they’d try again.”

Tsunayoshi snaps his head back in shock.  “They came back!”

Then he suddenly remembers he has an audience and his head swings back.

“Hiiieee...”

Yamamoto doesn’t look much better, closing his eyes and sighing.  

“Tsunayoshi, Gokudera, I thought we talked about this.”

“We didn’t want you to worry!” Gokudera insists.  “You do enough for us.  Me, The Baseball idiot and the Te...fuck...Tsuna, just thought we could handle it.”

“Oh, so Takeshi is involved in this too?”

Both boys wince, but Yamamoto is smiling.  It’s a little thing, but it’s definitely there.

“I thought the whole point of this whole adventure was not having to handle things on your own any more?”

“It is” Tsunayoshi insists.  “It’s just...hard to remember sometimes.”

There’s a novel to be read in these words, but this is meant to be Aizawa’s evening off, and they still have the original issue to deal with.

“Officer Tanaka, if this wasn’t quirk use, I’m not sure any serious crime was committed.”

The officer just shakes his head.  “There is destruction to public and private property.  And if your...weaponry wasn’t civilian grade-”

“They were” Gokudera insists.  “I made sure of it, just in case this happened.”

“You expected to be attacked?” Aizawa asks, and Gokudera grins.

“The laws don’t forbid using non-lethal tools for self defence” Gokudera replies.  “Quirks are forbidden unless your life is literally on the line, but the laws on weapons and explosives are severely lacking.  If a villain decided to ignore the law, having a non-illegal defence just made sense.  My bombs were perfectly legal, and I can prove it.”

The truth is, he’s not wrong.  Eraserhead has butted heads with those laws on more than one occasion.  When quirks first started appearing, the laws swooped in to corral the more destructive ones, and the traditional rules on self defence...didn’t follow.  They’re a by-product of the generations where having a quirk was rare and quirkless the norm.  Many villains get away with slaps on the wrist after dealing with Eraserhead because they fight with tools since their quirk is rendered useless.  If Gokudera Hayato has studied those laws as well as Eraserhead thinks he has, then there’s no doubt his ‘fireworks’ were within legal limits.

“I think this is something for your ethics department to deal with” Aizawa mutters to Officer Tanaka, and heads for the door.  “I’m going home.”

Maybe he can still catch Hizashi for a drink before he crashes for the night.

In the end, Gokudera Hayato is given a months community service and a severe warning not to use explosives in public areas unless his life is in danger, and although Bakugo has tried to threaten of ‘the copycat bastard’ from Aizawa several times, his reputation stops taking hits.

The nearby delinquent population however, doesn’t.  Apparently Gokudera is just as dangerous at hand to hand as he is with a quirk or explosives.  Something Aizawa learns from Hizashi once he starts listening to his Takesushi mumblings again.  

In his own way, Gokudera Hayato is a fascinating individual.  Most people, once they develop their quirk, focus on how to use it and it alone.  Willing to defend with that and take their chances in court rather than find another way.  It’s one of the reasons why self-defence laws are still so archaic – there’s no great urgency to alter them.

For someone to develop such a destructive quirk...and yet choose to fight with weapons of their own design...it’s almost a pity Gokudera never tried out for UA.  Eraserhead might have enjoyed seeing where that mind could go.  He does hope the decision wasn’t made my arrogant fools condemning the boy for having a villains quirk though, he certainly had the temper, disgust and possible history to suggest it hadn’t been an easy thing to live with.

And then there was the other boy.  Tiny and unassuming, but willing to stare down two heroes to keep his friend safe.  Eraserhead can’t help but wonder what his quirk is, and what he did to have someone so similar to Bakugo in personality, look at him with such wonder.

...But what on earth did Gokudera keep trying to call him?

[ruthandliamgoplaces]

Always use your eyes, ears and mind.

Writing this back in the safety of Manang in the lovely beach hut cabins. We’ve had quite an experience whilst trekking to Tilicho Lake since the last post, and I warn you now, it hasn’t all been nice. So, without further ado....

The first guests of the season!

We left Manang in high spirits, back on the road again following Liam’s injury. We had been informed by the Annapurna Circuit Office that the Tilicho Lake Side Trek, a three day excursion to the worlds highest lake at 5000m, was now open after being closed due to the unseasonal snow. We felt good and strong so walked for four to five hours to a lovely teahouse at 4200m and were informed that we were the first guests of the year!

The owners were still preparing the teahouse and trying to get their electricity system (car battery/solar panel rig) to work. However, after months of snow and cold, the battery was entirely drained. They asked Liam to help work it all out, and Liam wished he had the phone a friend option to his colleagues at the Electrical firm he works for at home! They also enlisted Liam’s help to board up a window that had been broken by the heavy snow fall. They took great delight in telling us there has been 7ft of snow, and the evidence was all around in gigantic snow piles.

We loved being back in the basic huts again, but saw the difficult life of the owners as they struggled to fix their business after the snow. There was also no running water as all the pipes had frozen, so all the water had to be collected from a a steam by the younger family members in gigantic containers. This meant the place wasn’t exactly clean as they couldn’t clean it. Also it meant you couldn’t really ask for water and had to get it from the stream yourself.

Despite all the technical teething difficulties of being the first guests, we had amazing food, were kept warm by a Yak dung fire, and had lovely company. It also snowed that night and because there was no electricity, it got very dark. The hillsides and mountains were covered with a thin layer of powdery snow, which as the sun went down cast the mountains in thousands of shades of whites, greys and blacks. It was so beautiful Liam and I went out into the freezing cold and looked around in awe and childlike wonder. No photo could capture the magic.

Out of our depth

The following day we set off to Tilicho Lake Base Camp after hearing from a local guide that the trail was “OK”. We were a bit dubious as the porter seemed very scared of the trail and said it was “dangerous”. Initially the porter was going to stay at the teahouse all day and wait for a group to do a day trip to the lake, but when the guide told him to take a client to the base camp and back, he did not look happy. When we left the teahouse, the owner wished us luck. Luck. Reflecting back, maybe we should have read the signs. The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy.

We knew that to get to the base camp we had to cross a landslide area where there was risk of rock fall, especially in the afternoon. We played safe, and left early in the morning, and agreed we would turn back if we didn’t like the look of it. Initially, the path was really beautiful, joyful even. We snaked up high on the snow crisp path. And then we hit the landslide area.

What is a landslide area? Well, it’s basically an enormous landslide with a “path” built into the middle of it. The “path” is sometimes solid, sometimes a bit crumbly and sometimes just missing. For extra adrenaline, the “path” drops ominously into the river below down a vast steep scree slope. It looks mightily intimidating, and is made worse by the occasional rock rolling dramatically and noisily into the river below, triggering off several friends to join it.

Despite our initial impression, the first few sections were not so bad- the path was stable and we saw no rocks. We even stopped to take some photos. However, an hour across the area, we reached our first dangerous section. There were rocks falling down a steep landslip and in the middle of the path was a man made rock shelter. We had to move quickly to the rock shelter, watch for rocks, and then move off again quickly and carefully avoiding any rock fall. Basically dodging the falling rocks.

After we safely passed this section, there was no respite. Instead we came across sections of the “path” which were actually just sand. And sometimes there was a gap in the path that you had to step over. The river far below us peeped up menacingly.

My least favourite part was in a zone that was usually considered safe after the signposted landslide danger area. This part of the path was where the snow had not melted, and you had to walk along a snow path carved into a steep snowy path. An avid reader of mountaineering books, I was terrified it would avalanche. However, in reality, the risk was small. I was just starting to lose the capacity to contain my fear after the landslips.

For some added excitement though, the snow on the slopes above was actually melting and as it did so it brought down some small and some huge rocks. Usually these particular slopes were pretty stable and not even considered dangerous, but they were more treacherous than what we had faced previously. In addition to dodging rocks, you also had to descend along a tiny snow path and not slide down a scree slope into the river. I was so petrified, drained and exhausted I started to cry, and Liam offered that we turn back. However, we could see Tilicho Base Camp in the distance and I wanted to push on to safety. I had no desire to retrace our steps along the landslides which were getting worse in the rising sunshine.

Tilicho Lake

After an eventful three hours we made it to Tilicho Base Camp and collapsed in our room. There was only one hotel open out of the usual three, and it was experiencing some of the same frozen pipes and just opened issues. Many of the other trekkers seemed less bothered by the danger we had perceived, and it made me question myself as to whether I was right to be as scared as I was by the walk I had just done. Liam said he did not find it that scary either.

Later on, we spoke to an English and German couple who were even more scared than me! They had crossed later in the afternoon and had been pelted by rocks. The German man was so scared he even asked the price of a helicopter to get back across! Turns out it was prohibitive!

Despite the fear, Liam and I decided to stay another day and try to reach Tilicho Lake at 5000m. We had spent the day lazing at base camp and watched at least 40 people go there and back and considered it must be safe. So, we made plans at leave at 6am!

The trek to Tilicho Lake was in winter condition. The initial path was basically one enormous steep skiable slope that many people slid down on their bums rather than try to walk down. You then walked along a snowy ridge to a path... which turned into walking along yet another snow covered landslide area. I didn’t like the look of it at all, I hadn’t realised that the path was yet more landslides. However, everyone else seemed to be doing it, so we carried on.

Half way along the landslide area, we saw huge rocks hurtling down. What made it worse was that unlike the rocky slopes, the rocks made no sound on the snow covered slopes. You couldn’t hear them, and had to be constantly vigilant. We made it past the slip and started climbing some extremely steep snow covered switchbacks.

Liam and I soldiered on, exhausted by the steep terrain and altitude, to the top of the switchbacks, and then discussed with each other how dangerous we thought the path was. We had made it to 4850m and the lake was only 100m ascent away. We had done the hardest part... and now the walk was an hour of slow gentle climb. However, we both agreed we wanted to abort the walk and get down quickly before the afternoon sun warmed up the landslips anymore.

The views we had were incredible- panoramic mountain views. However, I realised I just wasn’t appreciating them as I was so anxious about the descent. I knew I wouldn’t enjoy getting to a lake with the knowledge that I had to come down the landslides.

We were the only ones to turn around, and many asked us why on our way down. They seemed to accept our reasons as sensible, but carried on themselves. Again, I was questioning my judgement!! Why was I so afraid? What was I seeing that no one else did?

About 10 minutes after choosing to descend, we came across a couple who told us there had been an accident below and we should avoid the area. There was a lot of blood- a man had been hit on the head by a rock and was awaiting helicopter rescue. I was immediately petrified, and had no desire to wait around on the landslide area for the rescue. I chose to descend even though it meant walking past the injured man, and I walked extremely quickly and carefully, eager to get out of the way before the helicopter arrived. Selfishly I was concerned about the rock fall due to turbine blades. Survival instinct kicked in.

In the end, there was no need to rush as the helicopter took two hours to reach him.

As we passed the man, we passed a huge rock the size of a brick covered in blood, and several items of discarded clothes also bloodied. He was being cared for by a small group of people, and they had moved him slightly off the path, although it was difficult as the path was so crumbly and narrow with a steep drop into a ravine. I did not look at him for long other than to avoid stepping on him, but he was clearly unconscious with a huge head injury. I felt sick, sad and terrified. I knew I couldn’t help the man as people were already with him- but I still felt terrible for walking past the scene.

Liam and I somehow made it down - a long silent scary descent through melting snow. I started to really question myself as to why I had come to this area and attempted this trek. Seeing this man lying on the floor having to wait hours for a helicopter rescue. My worst fear had happened. I usually manage my fear by saying it is not rational, it’s not likely, it’s unlucky, it won’t happen... but it has happened.

I spent the rest of the day trying to deal with what I had seen, by avoiding dealing with it, and reading an entire book. I wanted to deal with it, but I had the knowledge that to get back to safety I had to walk out of base camp and through another landslide area. Dealing with the events of the day would have to be delayed so that I could remain calm, focussed and manage my fear.

The other trekkers, who had carried onto the lake, made it down safely one by one. They had been spared seeing the injured man, and many had no idea what had happened. They all agreed the path was very dangerous and Liam and I had not missed much by turning back when we did. Everyone was emotionally drained by getting down safely.

We sat with the English and German couple for the rest of the afternoon and tried to not talk about our fears for going back across the path, but inevitably it was most of what we talked about. In the end, we agreed to walk together at 5.30am before the sun warmed the slips, and to help keep each other safe.

So. We made it safely back with a mostly uneventful morning other than some goats walking across the landslip and sending rocks down onto us even when the sun couldn’t .... and now we are resting in Manang. Again. A little bit traumatised and a lot exhausted.

What have we learnt?

Liam and I have talked a lot over the past few days. I want to emphasise Liam was not as scared as me, and many many trekkers crossed safely at all times of day. However, the trek was basically playing chicken/fate with falling rocks. It was a risk too far for me to stomach. I didn’t come to Nepal to take such risks.

The night before we crossed the landslide area again for the return, I laid awake battling intrusive thoughts about what would happen if I got hit. How would my family feel. I also couldn’t get the man out of my head, and I thought about him and his family. Out of respect to him, and his family, I won’t share any details I’ve learnt subsequently, but I will say he is currently in a coma in Bangkok hospital. I am sending him all the luck for recovery.

On the way down from Tilicho, we warned everyone about what had happened... but no one turned back. The risks are acceptable to most people, it seems. Many were a lot more experienced than ourselves. Some I considered many be naive. But... I do understand... you come to Nepal once, you want to do the best treks, you are told it’s safe, loads of people go, guided groups go... and you think... it must be safe! Or... maybe... it won’t happen to me!

I’ve learnt that Nepal “safe” is not the same as Europe safe. I know that’s probably obvious, but actually it’s a whole shift in state of mind. In Europe, we are so used to having everything risk assessed for us that we forget how to risk assess ourselves. We are deskilled. We leave decisions about maintaining our safety to government committees. If guided groups are going in Europe, it probably is safe! In Nepal, guides need the money, clients are pushy, and consequently quite large risks may be seen as acceptable.

As a tea house owner told us in the aftermath, always use your eyes, ears and your mind. Something that maybe I’ve never really learnt to do to the degree needed in Nepal. Better start now.

What’s next?

We are recovering emotionally and physically in Manang, and then we are off to have a go at this pass that we have been putting off. However, if we don’t like the look of it, using our eyes, ears and mind, we will turn back. Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean we have to. We’ve had enough adrenaline. So that was Tilicho Lake. Can’t say I would want to go back in the same snow conditions.

[lilacflamesss]

Shattered (Chapter 4)

Smutty Ayahina College AU

Summary: Hinami tries to deal with her sorrows through seeking Ayato out. Ayato can never turn away the girl he loves far more than he should. Two people with unrequited feelings, dealing with them in very different ways. Human AU. (7.6k words)

Warning: This fic contains unhealthy copic mechanisms, heavy sexual content, and plenty of problematic/ dubious things which I absolutely do not condone at all. This is a work of fiction that takes on a more mature, physical take on Ayahina’s relationship as opposed to the typical conventional one. Please feel free not to read this fic if it’s not your cup of tea!  In addition, this chapter contains a character (baby) death so, trigger warning for stillbirth. 

A/N: There’s no smut this chapter so I’m sorry for that! There’s also no Ayato in it lmao. But it’s a pretty heavy Touken chapter! There’s also a slight time skip between the Ken and Hinami bit in this chapter. About a couple of weeks, enough to at least let Touka recover from giving birth.

I’m really insecure about this fic right now. I lowkey had a breakdown before I posted this. I kept re-reading it over and over again but I still have so many worries about this... I’ve honestly never felt this way about a fic before. I’m sorry this took so long and even then I don’t know if it’s as good as it can be. I did try my best though, so I hope you guys continue to read and support this!  Please do reblog this and feel free to leave some comments! 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 4.5 | Chapter 5

Preview: 

Touka and Kaneki come out of the kitchen with a couple of plates. They place them on the table and Kaneki takes a seat, while Touka walks away to the corridor. Hinami panics for a moment, wondering if Touka might have gotten annoyed, but she calms down the moment she notices an extra plate, a kiddish and smaller one.

“Is she going to get your daughter?” Hinami asks.

“Yeah. Ichika gets too distracted when she’s playing. She forgets she’s hungry and her stomach starts acting up,” Kaneki explains with a slight chuckle. “I hope you like omurice. Touka forced me to cook it today. It’s her father’s own recipe.”

“I don’t mind it,” she replies. Kaneki cooked. She’s going to eat Kaneki’s cooking. Her heart races at this thought. She’s watched dramas where girls ate the food guys they liked specially cooked for them. In the end, no matter how bad the food is, they always taste good because of love, right? She wants to squeal-- to think she gets to live through such a corny experience. Ayato will never cook for her. That guy would probably burn the apartment down in the process. But Kaneki can cook and he did. Really, he’s the perfect guy.

A silent voice in her head coughs at her. She’s supposed to be getting over Kaneki. He’s married. He didn’t cook this because he loves her; he cooked this because the woman he loves asked him to. But even as logic is being flung at her, Hinami turns away. She fixes her eyes on the plate of omurice. It looks like a normal plate but even then, she’s never been this excited to dig in.

“Touka thought Ayato might suddenly show up as well so she insisted on this,” Kaneki continues. “Apparently, it’s his favorite back when he was a kid. Their father always cooked it for him whenever he was down… We made some extra for him as well.”

“For Ayato? But he isn’t here…”

“Touka insisted that we packed it and get you to deliver it to him if you happen to be dropping by his place or something.”

“I could do that.” If she has some time to kill, she’d probably go back to her dorm to study a little more, but dropping by Ayato’s place isn’t a detour. It’s still on the way to school.

“I’m not too fond of it though…” Kaneki admits with a sigh.

“It’s really no problem, Big Brother! His apartment is on the way to school. Besides, I think it’ll be better if he has some proper lunch… Otherwise he’d just eat convenience store food again. I don’t have time to go over and cook some lunch for him.”

Kaneki remains silent for a while, before he glances at where Touka had disappeared to. He inches closer to Hinami and lowers his voice. “It’s not that Hinami… Personally, I’m just not a big fan of you hanging out too much with Ayato.”

He’s jealous… Hinami slams the thought down the moment it surfaces in her mind. God, it sounded so stupid.

“Ayato is a good friend,” she says. “He’s always there for me.”

“Are you sure he’s just a friend? It didn’t seem that way to me that day,” Kaneki grumbles.

“We’re not together.”

“Touka was very confident about Ayato’s feelings towards you,” Kaneki says. “And even I… I saw the way you were looking at him when you waited for him.”

Kaneki thinks she’s in love with Ayato. Hinami feels her throat go dry.

“Even if… that’s the case, Big Brother… why does this bother you?” she murmurs. He shouldn’t care, right? He’s in love with Touka. It’s not like Kaneki has feelings for her. He shouldn’t care about who she’s dating or seeing.

“Hinami…” Kaneki sighs. “Look… I care about you and I love you--”

Ken finds himself pacing to and fro. He wishes he can calm down and relax, but he knows he can’t. It’s not happening-- it can’t be-- especially not when his wife went into labour a whole month before the expected due date. He already knows that this isn’t going to be the easiest pregnancy for Touka. On the contrary, the doctors had warned them to prepare themselves for the worst. They had gone to multiple clinics for different opinions and every one of them had said the same thing. There’s too many complications. The baby might not survive. The had predicted that the mother’s life would be in danger as well and they had recommended an abortion. But Touka had been adamant to see the pregnancy to its end. Even if it’s hard, she wants to try her best to bring their child into the world, even if she had to risk her own life. Ken had wanted to argue, but he simply couldn’t when she was looking at him with that determined expression-- the very expression he fell in love with. At least, he’s glad she saved him the dilemma of having to choose between his unborn child and his wife. He wonders some time who’d he’d choose. Touka, perhaps… They could always try again, right?

Right?

Sometimes, it’s easier thinking about things like that. He’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to choose if he had been in that position. In times like this, he’s glad he has Touka by his side.

Ken continues to pace until he hears a throat being cleared. He looks at the other man who’s standing by along with him. Yomo is leaning against a wall, his expression as solemn as ever, while he holds Ichika’s hand. The small girl’s head continues to nod as she yawns and rub her eyes with her other hand. She looks at Ken, sulking visibly.

Sometimes, when Ichika looks at him like this, Ken recalls Touka’s brother-- the asshole who isn’t answering or even bothering about his calls and messages despite the fact that his sister is in labour right now.

“Papa…” Ichika whines. “I wanna go home.”

Yomo picks the child up and carries her in his arm, fixing Ken with a hard glare. Calm down, it seems to say and Ken nods. Yomo cradles Ichika, rocking her lightly as the kid nestles her head into his granduncle’s neck. He walks a distance away from Ken, probably to keep Ichika from whining even more in the middle of a hospital. Ken’s glad that Yomo’s around. He’s probably just as worried about Touka. She’s his niece and he’d been by her side and watched her for so much longer than Ken had. But Yomo’s staying strong and Ken knows he has to as well.

If the worst happens, he has to be there for her as well. She might be as strong as-- or even stronger than-- him. But he wasn’t the one who carried the child in his womb for eight months. He wasn’t the one who had to struggle with all the challenges of pregnancy just to bring a child into the world. No matter how strong his wife is, no matter how much she tries to prepare herself, if things don’t go well, he will have to be there for her.

It feels like an eternity before the light goes off, indicating that things within the room had ended. By then, Ken already knows what awaits him.

There wasn’t a cry after all…

He’s only allowed to see her much later, despite his chagrined protests, but that also gave him some time to get ahold of himself. A look of complete despair had passed through Yomo’s eyes as the doctor relayed the news to the both of them. He didn’t comment on the situation at all. All he said was that he was going home to tuck Ichika into bed. Maybe he wanted some time alone, or maybe he wanted to give Ken some time alone. Either way, Ken realises he feels relieved.

He takes some time to walk around the hospital, mind completely blank, heart completely empty. He doesn’t know what to feel about the whole situation. They had asked him if he wanted to see the kid. He had said no, because he can’t bring himself to see her, especially not without Touka by his side.

They already knew that it isn’t going to work out. They were already told that this is what awaited them. Even then, why does he feel so empty?

He wants to get a drink, but he decides not to. His stomach can’t hold anything in right now. If he eats or drinks, he might just throw up. Instead, he finds a spot with a vacant seat and sits down. People walk past him, but everything’s a flash and a blur. The only thing that really stood out was a little boy, running past him screaming and giggling. He held the hand of a little girl-- probably his younger sister-- pulling her along excitedly.

Ichika will never get to pull her younger sister along. She probably won’t even know about her until much later, and by then, it’ll be too distant a memory for her to really feel anything about it. Ken wonder what he’ll give up to be able to see both his children happy and together. Siblings are a precious kind of relationship-- the best in its own way. Ken himself doesn’t know what it feels like to have a sister or a brother. Perhaps the closest he has to a sister is the little orphan girl he’d bonded with a long time ago, right after her parents had died in a brutal car crash. But she grew older and they’ve gotten distant. He still can contact her if he wants to, but he doesn’t really keep in touch. He saw her some time back and it feels like she had grown and changed a lot as well. Yet there had been warmth that filled him when he laid his eyes on her back then, a certain indescribably pride at seeing how far she’s come. Maybe he should put more effort into trying to keep in contact with her. He did feel a little guilty about keeping his marriage from her.

It’s Touka who told him the joys of being a sister. It was her who said that she wanted a second child so Ichika won’t be lonely, just like how she believes she would have been lonelier if she hadn’t had her brother around. Ken wonders how she can continue feeling this way, especially since it had been ages since she had last talked to her brother.

He checks his phone again. He’d texted Ayato and called him a couple of times, but he’d gotten nothing from him. Ken had thought that Ayato would at least answer one of his calls. The other time he did, he had sounded apologetic and regretful. Ken had thought that it’ll have changed things within him, but he hadn’t visited even though he promised to so Ken really shouldn’t be too surprised about his absence now.

It would be nice if he did show up though, especially after all that happened. Perhaps Ken might have gotten a better outcome if he had mentioned the whole complication with the baby. He was in the midst of doing so, but he ended up deleting the text. He probably should leave it to Touka to decide if she wanted her brother to know.

Personally, Ken is still not too fond of that guy. If anything, he questions every single thing Ayato has done. He’s sure he hasn’t been given the full story yet. Touka doesn’t really like to talk about her brother, unless she’s talking about happier times when her entire family was still around. There’s nothing that Ayato had done subsequently that gets him on Ken’s good side at all. All he’s ever done is hurt Touka more and more. Perhaps, if they hadn’t already known about the problems with the baby, Ken might end up blaming the whole thing on Ayato. He did push his pregnant sister after all and he’d never bothered to check up on her. It was Ken who called to inform him, that too after Touka had mentioned how he probably was upset.

That jerk doesn’t deserve a sister like her, honestly.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he sees that he has a call from the reception desk of the hospital. He knows what that means-- he can go and see Touka now. He doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, but he knows that he has to take this. The conversation is quick and he doesn’t talk much, just thanking the receptionist after she gives him Touka’s room number. He’s up on his feet seconds after the call, heading towards her in long strides.

It seemed like some time had passed since he sat down. Apparently wallowing in his hatred for his brother-in-law had distracted him a little and helped to kill time. Perhaps Ayato isn’t as useless as he used to think he is after all.

Touka’s a shell of her former self. Maybe that expression might be a little bit of an exaggeration. She doesn’t look that lost. She looked much more lost when they first met all those years ago, crumbling under the weight of their family’s financial burdens and her father and brother’s never-ending arguments. But she’s surely not herself right now either. Just twenty four hours ago, she was smiling at him with the usual twinkle in her eyes as she pulled out a new watch she had bought for him. It had caught her eye randomly and she had gotten it for him as an early anniversary gift. He had left it at home in the rush to get Touka into the hospital when she went into labor, but now he wishes he has something to hold onto to keep himself together.

When he enters the room, she doesn’t respond. She continues to stare out of the window, eyes clouded and downcast.

“Touka.”

She jolts a little at the sound of her name and she turns to look at him, offering him a wide, but weak, smile. “Ken…”

“You did well.” He crosses over to her and sits at the edge of her bed. Touka bites her lip and she shakes her head.

“I couldn’t… I didn’t manage to…” She chokes, stopping herself with a deep breath. He sees the water in her eyes and he sees her trying to hold them back. There’s absolutely no reason for her to hold back her tears, not now, not then, but she continues to do so as she has always done. Ken reaches for her hand, taking one in both of his, clasping it tightly.

“You did your best. I’m sure she knows and I’m sure she appreciates whatever you’ve done. In another life, I’m sure she’ll want you to be her mother as well.”

That isn’t lip service. They’re not empty words. He’s sure of it. Touka is a great mother to Ichika and he’s sure she’d have been one to their daughter as well-- their little girl who left them even before she could come to them. He wishes they at least named her, but they hadn’t chosen a name yet. They were supposed to have another month.

“I’m sure she’ll want you to be her father as well,” Touka says. Her voice is weak, but he sees in her eyes her belief in him, clearly mirroring his in her. “Where’s Ichika?”

“She’s at home. Yomo took her back so she could sleep. I think Yomo wants to give us space as well,” Ken admits. He rubs the back of Touka’s hand and Touka responds by tightly lacing her fingers with his, locking their hands into a secured grip.

“Did you… say anything to Ayato?”

“No… He didn’t answer my calls and messages.”

Her eyes widen at his words and he senses panic in them, though Ken doesn’t seem to understand why. “So you tried to contact him! What did you say?”

“You went into labour…”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

The panic vanishes and she sighs a little. She’s smiling now, but again, it’s weak and melancholic. “That’s good… I don’t want him to know about what happened.”

“Why not?”

“He’ll blame himself…”

That really shouldn’t be Touka’s concern right now. Ken really doesn’t want her bothering about Ayato at a time like this. But it’s always been in Touka’s nature to worry about others before herself.

“Touka, your brother--”

“It’s not his fault,” she cuts in. “He did something wrong… I know that but… this has nothing to do with that…”

“Touka--”

“I want to see him… Ken, please, I really want to see him…”

“Touka, come on, you know that’s not going to happen,” Ken sighs. “He didn’t care one bit when he hurt you. He doesn’t care now that you gave birth as well.”

“No, he cares. I know he does…”

“So why isn’t he here?” Ken challenges. His bitterness goes unnoticed by Touka, who clamps up as his words, shivering lightly. Ken wonders if he’s too harsh. Maybe now isn’t the best time to be honest with her about that asshole. He reaches over for Touka and takes her by her shoulders, pulling her against him, arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay? If Ayato doesn’t respond, I’ll call Hinami instead. Will that be okay?” he asks.

“Hinami…?”

“You know, the girl who was with your brother the other day?”

Touka relaxes in his arms and he looks down to see a small smile spreading on her face. “Ahh… That strange girl who somehow saw something in my useless brother to fall for?” The cheeky, joking tone in Touka’s voice is enough to make Ken relax a little.

Despite his complete aversion to Hinami being in a relationship with Ayato, he’s glad it at least brings some joy to Touka with her now being able to rest easy that her brother isn’t alone like she feared. Though Ken still believes he’s better off talking to Hinami about and giving her a warning here and there. It’s not like Hinami has anyone else to do that for her as well. It must be why she managed to get along with Ayato in the first place-- they’re both alone, after all. Just like Touka was at one point in time. Ken wonders how that feels like. He’s been lonely before but he’s never been alone. He’s had Hide with him since he was young.

“I’ll call Hinami and see what we can work out, okay? Maybe she can convince your brother about coming along,” Ken says. He really doesn’t want to, but he guess he’ll have to give in if it makes Touka feel better. From the expression she makes, he knows she feels better.

“It’ll be nice… If we called them over for a celebration instead…” Touka murmurs absentmindedly. She looks at Ken, forcing her smile to remain on her face. But she’s a terrible liar, especially to him, who knows her so well. Her watery eyes are telling him that she’s anything but smiling on the inside. She’s weeping and falling apart and that all that’s holding her together right now is the slight hope that she might be able to see her remaining family as a whole again-- that same hope, wish and desire that she has always clung onto in the darkest moments.

Her child is gone, just like her mother and just like her father. She doesn’t want anyone else to go. And like it or not, Ken wants to make her wish come true for her. Even if her brother is the most detestable person on earth, even if he’s the person who’s made her silently cry to herself countless times over and over again, he wants to bring him back for her.

Hinami thinks her heart is going to leap out of her chest. It might be an exaggeration, but she’s quite certain it’s not an impossibility. Her heart is beating so hard. Her ribs might not be able to stand it. She wonders how much it would hurt if her ribs do snap. Ayato had mentioned breaking a couple of bones before and he had said it had hurt like a bitch, to quote his words that is. Well, Ayato being Ayato would have broken a whole bunch of bones at one go. Hinami’s always wondered what he did to even have that happen. He hadn’t said anything much about that incident, except scowl whenever he talks about it and admit that it had hurt far too much and that it wasn’t him, but someone else who broke his bones. Hinami had wondered who even would break Ayato’s bones, but considering his high school escapades, she’s not too surprised someone would.

But back to the point. It had hurt for Ayato. A broken rib would make her break down and cry.

She ignores the heart and her ridiculous thoughts and presses the doorbell. She’s staring at a normal door of a normal house, but she’s immediately taken in by what she sees. This is where he stays. This is the place he lives, where he eats his dinner, where he relaxes, where he sleeps, where he bathes, where he reads his books and where he can be himself. This is the place she has long to step into for years. She gets to see how she lives; she gets to know him even better, to see things no other person would.

Hinami hears footsteps from the other side of the door and she stiffens, hands running through her hair before smoothening out her dress as she takes one look at her outfit. She’s wearing a simple light green dress with a black cardigan-- nothing too fancy, but it’s still a cute outfit. She had asked Ayato for his opinion when she bought it, but she learnt from the experience how bad of an advisor he is when it comes to these kinds of things.

“That’s nice. It looks easy to take off,” he had said with the usual smirk on his face. Of course, that earned him an elbow to the rib. She does, also, vaguely remember him grumbling about how she looked good in anything so she didn’t really need a second opinion on it, but her mother used to say that about her as well.

The door opens and Hinami puts on the biggest smile she can manage. She doesn’t have to force it out. It comes naturally the moment she sees the face of the person who answered the door. Kaneki Ken looks as gorgeous as always, his charming smile and gentle eyes welcoming her and making her feel at home almost instantly. He’s beautiful, she thinks the moment he says her name in greeting and steps aside to let her in. She doesn’t need him to say anything else before she’s practically running into the house.

So this is where he stays.

“Thank you for coming, Hinami! I hope you’re not too busy today,” he says.

“No, today’s a good day.” She only has classes in the evening and it’s still just morning. She has all the time in the world before she has to leave.

The call from Kaneki had been sudden and out of the blue yesterday, inviting her over for lunch. Kaneki had asked her to bring Ayato along but Hinami knew that there was no chance he would accept coming over with her. She had been honest with Kaneki about that and hadn’t bothered to ask Ayato at all. Kaneki sounded conflicted by her words over the phone; on one hand he sounded a little upset, but on another, he accepted it a little too easily that Hinami felt he didn’t really want Ayato around as well.

“Touka is getting ready so give her some time,” Kaneki says.

“Is she with the baby now?” Hinami asks. Some time back, Ayato had told her that the baby was born already. She hadn’t asked for much details but she had doubted he knew anything much either.

“Yeah… about that…” Kaneki grimaces as he speaks, glancing deeper into the house before he takes Hinami’s arm and pulls her closer to him. Hinami stiffens. She didn’t think her heart can race even more than it had been doing so, but she was instantly proven wrong. She’s close to him-- so so close. Just a little more and she’d be pressed against his chest, maybe with his strong arms around her. That very thought itself is enough to make Hinami tremble.

“The baby… isn’t here,” Kaneki says, his voice dropping quite a bit.

“Oh-oh?” she gasps out, trying to focus on anything else but their proximity, even when her voice sounds faked and uncaring. “Where is it?”

“Hinami…” Kaneki sighs. His hand releases her arm before it moves to the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. “The baby… didn’t make it.”

She’s silent as the words sink in. Kaneki gives her the time to as well, eyes fixed completely on her. Normally, she’d probably be happy; he’s staring at her and only her right now. But right now, Kaneki is the last thing on her mind. The baby is gone. The baby died. But how? She wants to ask him, yet she holds back. An image flashes through her mind. Kaneki’s wife, on the floor, eyes wide in horror as her brother watches her a small distance in front of her. Touka had fallen when she was pregnant and that’s dangerous, right?

In that case, was the baby’s death all Ayato’s fault?

“I-I’m so sorry!” she cries out immediately. She feels obligated to apologize, even though she isn’t the one who had pushed Touka down. Maybe if she hadn’t stood out there that day, maybe if she had gone in the store with Ayato and waited with him, she wouldn’t have met Kaneki and Touka-- Ayato wouldn’t have met Kaneki and Touka. The baby could still have lived. Maybe if she had cut the conversation shorter. Maybe if she had taken his hand and run off with him before Touka could talk to him. Maybe. Maybe.

“It’s nothing to be sorry about, Hinami… We were already prepared for this,” Kaneki laughs flatly. He had laughed, but his sorrow poured out of his eyes. Hinami feels herself choking. Something feels like it’s rising in her throat. She hadn’t eaten anything but it feels like she’s going to throw up.

He was prepared, he said. The knew about it apparently… So was that phone call a lie? He had told Ayato that the baby was fine the other day, hadn’t he? Had he lied back then? Maybe he did it to calm Ayato down and to stop him from worrying. That would be a total Kaneki-like thing, lying and putting people before him so that others didn’t get hurt.

“I… I really am sorry, Big Brother! I’m sorry, this is all Ayato’s fault and--”

“It’s not,” he cuts in and Hinami looks up at him blankly. It’s… not? A lie. That had to be a lie. Kaneki is lying again to help with the guilt and not to worry them too much. Of course he’d be like this. It’s in his character. Kaneki is nice and kind.

“Big Brother, please. I know this is because he pushed her the other day so… Please let me apologize properly… to you and your wife…” She chokes as she speaks and as she blinks her eyes, she feels tears falling out. Hinami immediately wipes them away. She doesn’t want him to see her cry, especially not when it’s over his own kid’s death. Kaneki isn’t crying. Even if he looks like he’s about to cry, she doesn’t want to cry in front of him when he’s trying his best not to.

Kaneki takes a deep breath and sighs. He places his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him completely. “Listen. I’m not going to pretend Ayato is the best person out there. He brought Touka a lot of stress and that could have let to some problems… but Touka’s pregnancy was problematic from the very beginning. We both knew this was going to happen. Ayato might have hurt Touka… but he didn’t kill our child.”

“That’s a lie…”

“It’s not a lie, Hinami… Why would I lie about this?” Kaneki sighs. “The baby was unlikely to survive in the first place… But Touka still wanted to pull through with the pregnancy for that slim possibility. It didn’t work out. The baby died. We were both pretty much prepared for it, though I’d appreciate if you don’t bring this topic up when Touka’s around later.”

She considers the words and nods with a sigh. “So… Ayato… He really didn’t do anything wrong?”

Kaneki’s eye twitches at her words and he forces out a smile, which honestly looked more like a grimace to Hinami. “Well… I wouldn’t say that… but… don’t worry. Your boyfriend didn’t kill his niece.”

Kaneki must really hate Ayato. Hinami had noticed that it usually was easy for Kaneki to pretend around people. She’d seen him interact with people she knew he disliked. He generally was nice to them and could easily hold a calm, composed face. One wouldn’t have been able to tell Kaneki hated them from merely looking at his conversation with them. On the other hand, Kaneki’s distaste for Ayato was practically scrawled all over his face. She wonders what must have happened between the two of them. Ayato hates Kaneki a lot as well. She’d all along assumed it was because of her feelings for Kaneki--

Wait.

“B-Boy...friend?”

Kaneki nods. “Yeah, Ayato. Your boyfriend.”

“He’s… not my boyfriend…”

“Oh? He’s not? Is he more? A fiancé? A husband?”

“B-Big Brother! It’s not… We’re not--”

“Don’t tell me… He’s the father of your future kid…”

Hinami chokes and she swears her cheeks must be red right now. There’s no way she wants Kaneki to know that she’s sleeping with Ayato. Definitely no way. Kaneki doesn’t have to know that she’s sleeping with anyone in the first place-- he shouldn’t. It’s hard to tell if Kaneki is joking sometimes and this is one of those times. His face shows clear interest and he seems genuinely curious about the situation. But for Hinami, this is terrible. Kaneki is getting the wrong idea. Kaneki, out of all people, is getting the wrong idea. He thinks she’s in a relationship with Ayato. Well, she is in some kind of a weird arrangement with him which she supposes can be called a relationship, but it’s definitely not what Kaneki has in mind.

“I-I! I don’t like Ayato at all!” she cries out. “We’re nothing. There’s nothing. Big Brother, the only one for me is--”

“Oh, that’s sad…” A voice cuts into Hinami’s words and it hits her how she was so close to admitting the truth to Kaneki. Hinami clamps up immediately, putting some distance between her and Kaneki before she turns to the source of the voice. Kaneki retracts his hands and even though she’s thankful for it, she can still feel his hands on her shoulders.

“I think Ayato will be pretty sad to hear that.” The words accompany the emerging figure of Kaneki’s wife. She runs her hand through her hair, before she smiles at Hinami, walking up to her slowly. “I think my brother seemed really taken by you…”

“Ms… Kirishima…” Hinami murmurs. Wait, is that right? Hinami wonders if she should have called Touka something else instead. Mrs Kaneki? Ms Touka?

Touka smiles and wraps her arms around Hinami, holding her tightly for a moment before pulling away. “Just Touka is fine. Are you here alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Ayato’s not with you?”

“He wouldn’t come even if I asked him to… I’m sorry,” Hinami admits. Touka’s face falls at these words and Hinami honestly feels bad for her. She doesn’t know what happened between the two of them, but she finds herself a little annoyed that Ayato would even think of making his own sister upset. He’s honestly lucky. Even if his parents are dead, he has a sister. Unlike him, Hinami has no one.

“It’s not your fault… He’s always been like that,” Touka sighs. “He’s a good person at heart, but he can be a little difficult at times.”

“Don’t you think you’re a little too optimistic about your brother, Touka?” Kaneki sighs. A look of slight annoyance crosses Touka’s face, but she says nothing except to turn around and walk towards the table a slight distance off.

“Don’t just stand there, Hinami. Come and have a seat. We have lunch prepared for you. I hope it’s not too early.” The sudden change in topic takes Hinami by surprise, but from Kaneki’s expression, it felt like it’s something they’ve talked about too many times before. He seems annoyed, but more so exhausted. Hinami wonders what really happened with between Ayato and these two, especially with how Touka and Kaneki seem to think very differently of Ayato.

Hinami takes a seat as Kaneki and Touka enter the kitchen. There’s a slightly awkward atmosphere around them right now and even though she can’t hear the exact words, she hears a soft discussion happening between the two of them in the kitchen. Hinami’s confused. They seemed to have a good relationship when she saw them previously. Kaneki looked so happy and proud to introduce her to Hinami. She also remembered how protective he was over her when she fell and how he had spammed Ayato with calls to try and get him to visit Touka as well. Kaneki and Touka had looked like they were so in love.

She wants to know what’s going on and the temptation to sneak over and eavesdrop was too much to resist. She quietly gets up and tiptoes over to the kitchen, pressing her body against the wall as she tries to listen. She doesn’t have to try too hard; she’s always had sharp ears.

“This is getting ridiculous, Touka,” Kaneki grumbles. “You need to stop.”

“You need to stop pretending that everything is Ayato’s fault and that we’re not responsible at all,” Touka grumbles back. There’s the clacking of what Hinami assumes are plates. They probably are preparing some food for her.

“He’s hurt you so much. Why aren’t you seeing that? He left you alone, Touka.” Kaneki sounds exasperated and Hinami grimaces. Why is Touka having a hard time accepting this? Ayato did leave her after all. He’s ignored her all these time and even when they finally met, he went back to pushing her away. Hinami knows that if she is to be in Touka’s shoes, she’d have given up by now.

“And whose fault was it he decided to leave, huh?” Touka challenges. “Kaneki, I know you didn’t mean to and I know it’s not your fault entirely… but you hurt him too, you know!”

That’s ridiculous, right? Someone like Kaneki hurting someone like Ayato? It doesn’t make sense to Hinami at all. Kaneki is kind and gentle. She doesn’t think he’s capable of hurting anyone at all. Ayato would never hurt her, but she knows that’s not the case for everyone. He’s always hurting Touka and Hinami knows about his old notorious reputation from back when they were in high school. He’d picked fights and broken hearts. To think that he’d get hurt by someone like Kaneki-- it’s absurd to the point she almost laughs.

But as she listens in to the conversation, she realises something once again. She’s nothing to these people. She knows nothing about them; she knows nothing about Kaneki. It feels like it’s always the case, with everyone. Everyone knows about her problems, but she knows no one’s. She doesn’t know what happened between Ayato and his family. He’s never told her, even though he sits by her side and listens to her every time she cries about her own. She doesn’t know about Kaneki as well, not even back when she was younger. She knew he was an orphan like her. She knew he was lonely like she was. But she doesn’t know what happened to his family, even as he always consoled her over the accident that stole her parents from her.

It’s been ten years, or perhaps even more. But even after all this time has passed, things hadn't changed after all. She’s still the same clueless little victim that no one will ever confide it. She wants to tell them that she’s not weak. But will they even listen? She’d spent so much time with Ayato, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable enough to open up to her.

This isn’t fair…

She returns back to her seat feeling more miserable than ever. She hasn’t found out what happened between them, but she doesn’t feel like finding out right now. Maybe ignorance was better. It’s certainly better than knowing all those things happened to people she thought are close and dear to her, yet being kept in the dark about it.

Touka said that Kaneki had hurt Ayato. Yet he kept silent about it even when Hinami spoke about how great of a person Kaneki is. Did that hurt him? Did she hurt him? She wouldn’t have done that if she knew what happened.

Touka and Kaneki come out of the kitchen with a couple of plates. They place them on the table and Kaneki takes a seat, while Touka walks away to the corridor. Hinami panics for a moment, wondering if Touka might have gotten annoyed, but she calms down the moment she notices an extra plate, a kiddish and smaller one.

“Is she going to get your daughter?” Hinami asks.

“Yeah. Ichika gets too distracted when she’s playing. She forgets she’s hungry and her stomach starts acting up,” Kaneki explains with a slight chuckle. “I hope you like omurice. Touka forced me to cook it today. It’s her father’s own recipe.”

“I don’t mind it,” she replies. Kaneki cooked. She’s going to eat Kaneki’s cooking. Her heart races at this thought. She’s watched dramas where girls ate the food guys they liked specially cooked for them. In the end, no matter how bad the food is, they always taste good because of love, right? She wants to squeal-- to think she gets to live through such a corny experience. Ayato will never cook for her. That guy would probably burn the apartment down in the process. But Kaneki can cook and he did. Really, he’s the perfect guy.

A silent voice in her head coughs at her. She’s supposed to be getting over Kaneki. He’s married. He didn’t cook this because he loves her; he cooked this because the woman he loves asked him to. But even as logic is being flung at her, Hinami turns away. She fixes her eyes on the plate of omurice. It looks like a normal plate but even then, she’s never been this excited to dig in.

“Touka thought Ayato might suddenly show up as well so she insisted on this,” Kaneki continues. “Apparently, it’s his favorite back when he was a kid. Their father always cooked it for him whenever he was down… We made some extra for him as well.”

“For Ayato? But he isn’t here…”

“Touka insisted that we packed it and get you to deliver it to him if you happen to be dropping by his place or something.”

“I could do that.” If she has some time to kill, she’d probably go back to her dorm to study a little more, but dropping by Ayato’s place isn’t a detour. It’s still on the way to school.

“I’m not too fond of it though…” Kaneki admits with a sigh.

“It’s really no problem, Big Brother! His apartment is on the way to school. Besides, I think it’ll be better if he has some proper lunch… Otherwise he’d just eat convenience store food again. I don’t have time to go over and cook some lunch for him.”

Kaneki remains silent for a while, before he glances at where Touka had disappeared to. He inches closer to Hinami and lowers his voice. “It’s not that Hinami… Personally, I’m just not a big fan of you hanging out too much with Ayato.”

He’s jealous… Hinami slams the thought down the moment it surfaces in her mind. God, it sounded so stupid.

“Ayato is a good friend,” she says. “He’s always there for me.”

“Are you sure he’s just a friend? It didn’t seem that way to me that day,” Kaneki grumbles.

“We’re not together.”

“Touka was very confident about Ayato’s feelings towards you,” Kaneki says. “And even I… I saw the way you were looking at him when you waited for him.”

Kaneki thinks she’s in love with Ayato. Hinami feels her throat go dry.

“Even if… that’s the case, Big Brother… why does this bother you?” she murmurs. He shouldn’t care, right? He’s in love with Touka. It’s not like Kaneki has feelings for her. He shouldn’t care about who she’s dating or seeing.

“Hinami…” Kaneki sighs. “Look… I care about you and I love you--”

Her eyes go wide and it feels like her body freezes, as does the time around her. He said it. He said he loves her. This feels too surreal. Kaneki loves her? But why? Why would he love her? What’s so special about her? She’s not nearly as pretty as Kaneki’s wife. She doesn’t know a thing about that woman, but even then she already knows she’s amazing. She has to be a strong person after all she’s been through. Hinami isn’t a strong person. She’s weak. She’s a crybaby. There’s no reason he should love her; there’s no reason anyone should love her when there are others around.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she’s never asked Ayato why he was so in love with her as well? She had hurt him a lot but he’s still by her side. She’s never thought anything about her was attractive and lovable in the first place.

Big Brother… I… She doesn’t know what to say. Should she accept it? Should she turn him down? She and Ayato are not officially dating, even if they hang out too much for normal friends. But Kaneki isn’t just together with another woman; he’s married and he has a family. She doesn’t want to ruin that.

“--You’re like a little sister to me,” Kaneki continues and Hinami feels like she’s on a roller coaster. Never once had her hopes risen so high up only to come crashing down in the matter of seconds. Of course, that’s what he means. She feels so dumb for taking it another way— so dumb that she feels like crying right there and then. But Kaneki continues to talk and she’s thankful that she’s able to look down at her food and not keep eye contact with him. He seems oblivious to her emotions, or even if he did notice, he must have taken it as her response to what he’s saying. What’s he saying, again? She realizes she hadn’t been paying attention.  

“I don’t get it,” she grumbles instead.

“God, are you listening to me?” he sighs. “I’m telling you that the only thing Ayato’s good at is hurting the people who loves and cares about him. I don’t want you to get hurt, Hinami. You’re the closest I have to a family outside of my wife and kid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’s annoyed. She’s so so annoyed. She can’t believe the situation.  She wants to slam her head against a wall and black out permanently. The embarrassment is killing her.

“Fine then. I’m telling you straight right now. End things with Ayato and stay away from him.”

That snaps her out of her thoughts and she looks at Kaneki, eyes wide in disbelief. “What? But why?”

“How many times are you going to make me repeat myself?” Kaneki groans. “He will hurt you, Hinami. You might think the both of you are in love now but it won’t stop him from hurting you. He hurt his own sister, for god’s sake.”

“He won’t hurt me…” Hinami murmurs.

“I’m telling you, he will. You think you’re in love but—”

“I’m not in love with him, Big Brother,” she cuts in. “You got it all wrong. It’s Ayato who loves me.”

Kaneki’s brows furrow at her words, but he stays silent as Touka shows up, carrying a sulking little boy in her arms. “I’m sorry for the delay. Ichika wouldn’t stop her game,” she laughs. She takes her seat in front of Hinami and places Ichika on the seat beside her.

“It’s fine,” Kaneki says, eyeing his daughter. “You have to listen to Mama more or I’m going to take all your games from you.”

Arata looks horrified by this statement, but Touka only sighs and pats her daughter’s head. “Don’t listen to Papa. Don’t worry, he won’t do that,” she says. Hinami watches as Touka takes a spoon and scoops up some food for Ichika before holding it out to her. The girl takes the spoon and slowly puts it into her mouth before she starts chewing on in. Touka smiles, ruffling her hair. “That’s my girl.”

“They grow up so fast,” Kaneki sighs. “Look at my girl, Hinami. She’s feeding herself now.”

Hinami chuckles. Watching Kaneki and Touka with Ichika makes her feel really warm and soft. This must be what it’s like to be a part of a family, she supposes. It’s been far too long since she had one. She doesn’t really remember what it felt like to be doted on and loved. Touka and Kaneki must be extra protective of Ichika right now, especially since they had lost their other child. She can see it in both their eyes; they’re looking at her with a different look than they did the other day she saw them.

Everyone is going through their own things. And again, she feels like an outsider. She doesn’t know how things are going for them now and even if she asks, they will probably tell her not to worry and that everything is fine.

“Are you thinking about your parents?” Hinami’s head snaps up at Touka’s voice and she looks up at her in surprise. The older woman’s eyes soften and she reaches out to Hinami, placing her hand over Hinami’s. “You had a distant, nostalgic look in your eyes when you’re looking at us with Ichika. Kaneki told me you lost them some time back and you’ve been alone since then.”

“No… I… I just realise… it’s been so long. I forgot what it’s like… to be a part of a family.” It’s hard to speak about it. She’s choking as she does. But she forces herself to keep in her tears. She doesn’t want to cry now. She shouldn't. It’s not her who should be sad. She lost her parents years ago. Touka and Kaneki are the ones who are grieving now.

“Kaneki says you’re like a sister to him. I hope you can see me like that as well. You’re welcomed to be a part of this family, Hina, you really are,” Touka continues. She called her ‘Hina’. No one’s ever called her that aside from her parents and Ayato.

“You saved me once from the loneliness I felt when my own parents died. I know we’re not as close now, but I hope you realise you’re not alone in this world,” Kaneki murmurs.

“Nobody ever is alone, Hinami. Even if you can’t come to us, I’m sure you can rely on Ayato at least,” Touka continues. She pulls her hands away and picks up her spoon. “Now, eat. The food’s going to get cold.”

She doesn’t think she can eat. Her stomach is churning and the lump in her throat hasn’t faded. She wants to cry, but it’s not because she’s sad. She feels something else right now. She wants to say something but she doesn’t know what. Instead, she picks up her spoon begins eating as well. The food is delicious. She’s not too surprised it is, considering Kaneki cooked it. She’s never eaten Kaneki’s cooking before but it’s rare that Kaneki is ever bad in something. But she wishes she can enjoy it as much as she wants to, but her mind is reeling from everything.

A family sounds nice. It’s something she has along dreamed of-- herself, back with her mother and father. They’ve always been there for her back then and it felt empty when they were gone. She knew she only managed to pull through and survive because Kaneki was there by her side. They drifted the moment Hinami was old enough to stand on her own two feet. She hadn’t forgotten him back then. Her longing for him only grew. Perhaps it was the security that Kaneki gave her that made her fall for him and to continue longing for him to be by her side again.

I love you. You’re like a little sister to me.

She still feels really sick. Maybe dropping by Ayato’s place after this will be a good idea after all.

A/N: I really wanted to proofread, but I feel like if I do, I might stop myself from posting. I was supposed to post this last night but I fell asleep while typing lol. I hope you guys like this fic. I also knew I promised the sub Ayato smut scene in Chapter 4 and it’s still happening soon, but the word count got too long so it got pushed into Chapter 5. :’) I hope everyone looks forward to that because it really was fun writing it!

Also, word of advice, I won’t trust Kaneki’s narrations about Ayato if I were you. They’re about as biased as Hinami’s narrations about Kaneki. In this story, I’d say the Kirishimas are probably the most reliable of narrators. :D 

Once again, please please do reblog if you like this! It’ll really help me out. Feel free to leave comments in the tags/ reblogs/ replies or through asks!

[dstrachan]

DREAM WIFE 'SO WHEN YOU GONNA …. '

Dream Wife = Alice Go, Bella Podpadec and Rakel Mjöll, are back with their second album and as the title suggests, it is a record brimming with adrenaline and playful excitement.  Now I could go on and copy and paste the rest of their press release here but that would be extremely lazy, despite the fact that I fully agree with it. 

I haven't posted many album reviews recently because I felt that I was getting into a rather deep rut: right from the start I made a decision not to write negative reviews – artists and production teams for albums had clearly invested many hours along with copious amounts of blood sweat and tears to produce something that they believed in so what right had I to express my feelings simply because I hadn't liked the result?  My reasons for writing reviews was never about promoting my personal profile – only about seeking to help to highlight great musical talent in the hope of increasing their positive exposure, so I reckoned that if I hadn't been moved to write something positive it would be best to say nothing at all.  After all, I'm one of those who first heard Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody' whilst working in the Edinburgh branch of Bruce's Record Shop in Rose Street, and along with other staff, wondered what the hell they were playing at – who on earth was going to want to listen to the ramblings of somebody having a bad trip?  Well we all what happened next back then in 1975!

So, with that principle established I began to realise that my reviews were becoming really quite formulaic and could pretty much be summed up as follows; “I really like this music – because I have listened to such a wide range of great music over the last half century some parts of some of the tracks evoke memories of other, previous musical gems; I thoroughly enjoyed listening to this album and would like to wish the artists all the best for the future and invite you to give them a fair hearing to find out whether or not you agree with my enthusiasm”.  Consequently I came to realise that any further reviews would be quite repetitive and I pretty much took a step back from reviewing, with any reviews essentially being restricted to reporting on gigs that I had enjoyed.  Given the devastating effect of the coronavirus on the live gig scene since March this year, opportunities for attending live gigs have disappeared.  Many excellent live stream performances have been available and I have enjoyed a number of these but haven't got round to trying to review these as yet, perhaps that is because logging on to watch a live stream doesn't come with the same additional experience - driving many miles, parking, perhaps having a meal before the gig, getting into the venue and then driving home doesn't really stack up against remaining at home, sitting by my laptop and clicking a link.  But many thanks to all who have impressed me during these live streams, including Nervous Twitch, Not Now Norman and especially Reely Jiggered whose weekly 'live on the drive' performances outside their house have been exceptionally inspiring given Fiona and Alison McNeil's wonderfully infectious enthusiasm.

So, after that preamble, back to Dream Wife and their second album 'So When You Gonna?'; well I write this on 1st August 2020 shortly after receiving my neon pink vinyl copy of the album, the day that I announced my August 'track of the month' selection as being the opening track 'Sports!'.  I have always been extremely impressed by these three exceptional humans and had intended to begin this post by referring back to my review of their debut album – but it turns out that any such review is entirely in my head as I can find no record of it!  So instead of a brief reference to a TFL P4 bus journey from Lewisham to Brixton, believing that to have already been detailed in my apparently non-existent review of their first album, I will have to explain more fully.

It was Saturday 15th September 2018 and my daughter and I were traveling from Lewisham to Brixton on a route P4 bus when somewhere en-route (possibly the Nunhead area, but my knowledge of London really isn't that good) two striking young women got on and sat beside each other, directly in front of us.  Although they didn't speak to each other I sensed a bit of mutual chemistry and they seemed to be very pre-occupied.  I did actually wonder if they might also be heading to the O2 Academy for the Garbage gig that we were heading for but thought no more of it, especially when they got off a few stops before us.  We then went for a truly enjoyable ramen meal in 'Nanban', Coldharbour Lane.  Later, in the venue I watched with amazement as the support band (until then we had known nothing about them) came on stage – the guitarist and bass player looked very familiar – they were the two who I remembered from the bus!  Bella and Alice were then joined by Rakel and we were subsequently enthralled by a truly exciting, energetic and inspired performance as we wallowed in our first experience of Dream Wife (the Garbage set was excellent and entralling too, but that's really not the focus of this review).  Later, in the wee small hours of the following Sunday morning, as I lay on the sofa bed in my daughter's flat, unable to get to sleep as I recalled the gig, I got on-line and ordered a copy of Dream Wife's album on blood spattered vinyl.  For my review of that amazing album please refer back to my intro regarding the repetitiveness of my reviews!

Dream Wife have always been outspoken about holding up other women and non-binary people in the creative industries, but these aren’t just words or sentiments.  With a gender divide in music production currently estimated at around ninety-five percent male to five percent female, the band are proud to have worked with an all-female recording team for 'So When You Gonna...', including producer and mixer Marta Salogni (Björk, Holly Herndon, FKA Twigs) engineer Grace Banks (David Wrench, Marika Hackman) and mastering engineer Heba Kadry (Princess Nokia, Alex G, Beach House).

“It was a way of us practicing what we preach,” says Alice, “It felt like an honour to be able to deliver this baby with these three amazing midwives.” “Put your money where your mouth is!” adds Rakel, quoting the lyrics of “Sports!”

In the first week following its release, 'So When You Gonna...' was the only one in the UK top 20 chart that was not backed by a major label, in addition they were the only one band with an album entirely produced by a womxn.

As the band posted, “the ONLY band/musician in the top 20 that is not backed by a major label. The ONLY band/musician on that list who’s album was entirely produced by a womxn. Let alone had a whole team of womxn behind it.

Which is messed up... it’s 2020 ppl?”

In addition 'So When You Gonna...' was the album of the day at BBC Radio 6 Music for 7th July, and it was Rough Trade ‘s album of the month.

Around that time the band offered people a chance to win 'Bender', the loving member of their tour family; a customized silver Burns marquee which had played probably 300+ shows with the band and was a big part of the writing and recording of both their albums.  In the end Elina Lin was announced as the winner and she decided to gift the guitar to Girls Rock London – much respect to Elina :-)

So, after all that, what about the actual album that I'm supposed to me reviewing?  Well, it's truly a breath of fresh air.  The selection of eleven tracks is absolutely inspired, and pleasingly varied in content and style whilst simultaneously maintaining a coherent sound and identity.  I refer to my earlier comments about my overall approach to publishing album reviews, but will add that having seen the band's videos does help to add to my enjoyment of this album. Rakel's voice readily evokes images of her cheeky,  infectious smile, especially when during 'Sports!' she asks, “do you even play this sport”?  I was also extremely taken by the reerence to Kylie in 'Hold On Me', some more pretentious bands might have viewed such a reference as a step too far, but given the make up of my show playlists, I have absolutely no problem at all with this and applaud them for their honesty.  In addition the use of archive footage of much young band members for the 'Hasta La Vista' video is really quite inspired.

There are some tremendously high energy of tracks such as my 'track of the month' selection 'Sports!', the title track 'So When You Gonna …' and 'Hasta La Vista', and these are masterfully counterpointed with such intensely emotive ones such as 'Temporary', about miscarriage and 'After The Rain' with it's hauntingly intense vocals about abortion.   This album covers all bases and I genuinely believe that it deserves to be given a fair hearing.

In summary I truly feel that any future reviews should probably be more along the lines of. “if you like most of the music that I play in my radio shows, then please believe me when I say that you really should check out ….......”

One other spur for writing this and is that I have selected the album’s opening track, ‘Sports!’ as my ‘track of the month’ for August and am just about to give it its first play.  Perhaps in future I should aim to focus mainly on covering my 'track of the month selections which I am very pleased to play around half way through the second hour of every one of my shows.

Track listing:

1/ Sports!

2/ Hasta La Vista

3/ Homesick

4/ Validation

5/ Temporary

6/ U Do U

7/ RH RN

8/ Old Flame

9/ So When You Gonna

10/ Hold On Me

11/ After The Rain

[this-ginger-has-no-soul]

Widows child

(A/N): this is so shitty, I'm so sorry

Request: Angsty request here! In an AU would where women can get other women pregnant, fem!reader discovers she's pregnant and is really excited to tell Natasha. But Nat does not take it well and they get into a serious fight. Nat walks out to go have a chat with Clint who makes her realise that this baby is a blessing and she comes home to find the reader gone. A few years later, HYDRA kidnaps reader and the kid to mess with Nat and it's up to Nat to find and save the love of her life and their daughter

Warnings: angst, blood, injury to reader, swearing 

  (Y/N) was over the moon with excitement. How could she not be? She was pregnant with her girlfriend's child, what else could make her so happy? She was honestly rather shocked when she had found out she was pregnant. Natasha was infertile and (Y/N) had never even thought if her uterus was compatible enough for another human being.

    For thousands of years women had been getting other women pregnant but under strict conditions. One of the women had to have the perfect internal everything. If even a single, tiny thing was out of place it wouldn't work. That's why (Y/N) was so shocked when she one day took a pregnancy test and it came back as positive. She even went to Tony and had him do a far more refined and accurate test and that came back as positive as well. (Y/N) was actually pregnant. 

   She knew Nat once dreamed of having a family and now she could give it to her, so Nat should have been excited when (Y/N) dropped the news right? Wrong. (Y/N) was so completely and utterly wrong.

    "Are you fucking serious?" Nat asks, her voice seeping with anger.

    "Yes?" (Y/N) replied, her brow furrowed in confusion.

   "We can't have a kid, do you know what that'll do to us? To our jobs? To our statuses? We can't be agents and have a kid, we'd be suspended from shield for months, we'd be putting a life at risk by bringing it into this world, god, did you not think this through?" 

   "I thought you'd be excited! You told me you wanted kids-"

   "I was young and foolish back then," 

   "So, you're telling me that you don't want kids anymore?"

   "Yeah," Nat whispers bitterly, nodding her head. "Yeah I am..." 

   "I can't- I can't believe this," (Y/N) whispers, tears welling in her eyes.

    "Well you better start," Nat nearly spits, the venom in her voice slicing (Y/N) deep. She glared at (Y/N) for a few moments, gritting her teeth as she held back every word she wanted to say but didn't. Instead she turned on her heel, grabbed her shoes and marched out the door. She was just about to close the door when she stuck her head back in, that same disgusted, angry look upon her face. "I suggest you call a clinic, there's no way in hell you're having our child," and with that Nat slammed the door shut and marched out the door. 

   (Y/N) stood there in complete and utter shock. Had nat just told her to go get an abortion? Was she really that cruel to suggest that? This was their child for fuck's sake, a human being that they had created together and Nat didn't want it? Tears burns at (Y/N)'s eyes as she rests a hand on her stomach, her maternal instincts already kicking in. There was no way she was getting rid of HER baby, no matter what Nat wanted. If she didn't want the baby then so be it, she was just going to have to deal with the consequences. 

   Nat sighed as she walked beside Clint, a cup of coffee clutched in her hand as Clint nearly screamed her ear off.

    "I can't believe you'd say something like that Nat, you know how sensitive (Y/N) can be," 

   "I know," Nat sighs, running her fingertips along the rim of her cup absentmindedly as she spoke. "I just freaked out, I didn't know what to say or do," 

   "Do you realize what a miracle baby this is? You're infertile and yet somehow your body was strong enough to get (Y/N) pregnant. Her uterus has to be 100% perfect for a child- do you know how slim those chances are?" 

   "No-"

    "one in one fuckin million Nat and that's without your infertility, with that it should be physically impossible for (Y/N) to get pregnant," Nat sighs, realizing just how irrational she'd been at home. 

   "Fuck...I really fucked up,"

    "Im not even going to deny you this time Nat, yeah, you fucked up big time," 

   "What am I supposed to do?" Nat nearly pleads, her voice nearly cracking with emotion. 

   "Go home, make sure (Y/N) knows you want this child, and you convince her that to love her more than anything in this world, understand?" Nat smiles softly despite the circumstances and nods, her spirits a bit brighter than before. 

   "Thank you Clint,"

    "Anything for you Nat, now go talk to her before its too late," Oh, if only Nat had been given that piece of advice earlier. 

   She was planning on following Clint's directions perfectly and yet when she got home (Y/N) was nowhere in sight. She noticed the apartment seemed eerily empty, almost as though it were lacking quite a few things. Nat flicked a light on as she made her way into the kitchen, throwing her coat over the kitchen table as she walked in.

   "(Y/N)?" She called out loud, hoping for an answer "(Y/N), are you here-" Nat's words die in her throat as her eyes catch something on the fridge, a letter that hadnt been there when she left. Nat bit her lip as she plucked the note of the fridge, her eyes scanning over each word meticulously. 

         'Nat, I'm sorry about this but I'm not getting rid of our child. I get that you don't want children anymore, that's fine, but what's not fine is telling me, someone who's been wanting children for years, to go get an abortion just because you're unhappy. I understand where you're coming from with the danger and all that shit but luckily for you that's not going to be a problem anymore, I'm leaving shield behind, I'm leaving New York behind, I'm leaving everything behind. I'm moving away, starting fresh, who knows, maybe I'll find someone who'd be proud to support me and my child. I'm sorry it had to come to this but I'm not coming back Natasha, Im having Steve and Bucky come collect my things tomorrow and then the next day I'm leaving. I hope you have a great life, your dearest (Y/N).' 

   Nat felt as though she couldn't breathe, she physically couldn't breathe as she read the note. (Y/N) was gone, she was gone and she was taking their child with her. 

   Nats hands shook as she gripped the letter, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Oh god, she'd fucked up, she'd fucked up so bad, how could she have been so foolish and selfish? How could she have let this happen? 

   The hurt wells within nat, bubbling and bubbling until she physically couldn't take it anymore. A loud sob pushes it's way last her lips as she collapses to the floor, clutching the letter to her chest. It hurt so bad, her entire chest stung in pain as she sobbed on the floor. Her heart hurt, her throat hurt, everything hurt as she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left, she was physically dried of all her tears. 

   She curled up on the floor, note still clutched to her chest as she sniffled and dry heaved, her entire body trembling in pain.

    "Hey guys-" Clint trails off as he walks into the cold, silent apartment. "Nat- (Y/N)- you guys here?" Clint rounds the corner to the kitchen, immediately flinching in shock when he found Nat curled up on the floor. 

   "She left Clint," Nat sobs once again, this time dry and more painful than before. "She's gone." 

    It had been five years since (Y/N) left Nat, five years since she'd given birth to her sweet little girl; Alexandria. She had flaming red hair like her mother, those stunning eyes. She was practically a mini version of her. Anytime (Y/N) so much as looked at her, her heart would ache in pain. She reminded her so much of Nat, even her personality was the spunky, spitfire kind Nat once sported. But (Y/N) loved her more than life itself, more than anything she had ever loved in this world.

    (Y/N) smiles softly as she watches Alex play on the playground with all the other kids, screaming and laughing just as all five year old kids do. Everything was cheery, perfect even when suddenly something caught (Y/N)'s gaze from their corner of her eye. Just a few feet away, on a bench right next to hers sat a man, and not just any man, one of Hydra's best trained assassins. (Y/N) remembered time and and time again trying to take him out but he always found a way to avoid death, unfortunately for her. And now he was sitting not even five feet away from her. She could immediately see the small handgun he had strapped to his waist, a gun (Y/N) had been at the end of one too many times. 

   "Alex!" (Y/N) calls out to her child, desperate to get as far away from the man as possible. "Alex come on honey we've got to go home," (Y/N) stands up, motioning for Alex to follow along. The bouncy redhead came bounding along, immediately taking her mothers hand as she approached her.

    "Mommy, can we go get icecream?"

    "Sure honey," (Y/N) picked Alex up, holding her tightly as she began to walk to her car. 

   "Mommy?" 

   "Yeah honey?" 

   "Who's that scary man following us?" (Y/N) looked over her shoulder to find the same assassin following her, one hand glued to the gun at his waist.

    "Oh my god," (Y/N) whispers as she immediately books it, completely avoiding her car, knowing it would take too long to strap Alex and herself in. Instead she ran through the park, trying as hard as she could to get away but it'd been awhile she had to run for her life, not to mention this man was a million times faster and before (Y/N) even knew it he had caught up to her. 

   Before (Y/N) had any time to react the man smacked her with the end of his gun, knocking her out immediately. The world was slowly turning black as blood pooled from a wound in (Y/N)'s head, she could vaguely hear the sounds of her daughter screaming but she couldn't do anything about it now, not when the world was fading away.

    Nat punched the punching bag as hard as she could, her fists still aching despite the gloves she wore. Five years had passed since (Y/N) left her, not a single day went by when Nat wouldn't think about her, about their child. She wondered if her chid was a boy or girl, if he or she looked more like her or (Y/N), she wondered if (Y/N) had fallen in love again, maybe had more kids. As much as it hurt Nat to say it she hope she had, she hoped she was happily married to someone who would love and cherish her the way Nat never did- 

   "Nat!" The doors to the training room suddenly burst open and in comes Steve, coming to a skidding halt beside Nat. "We've got a situation,"

    "Yeah?" Nat asks as she punches the bag again. "What is it?" 

   "It's (Y/N), we've found her," Immediately Nat's punches stop as she looks up at Steve, a dangerous look in her eyes. 

   "You better not be playing some sick joke on me Steven-" 

   "She's been captured by hydra, her and your daughter." 

    (Y/N) awoke to a splitting headache towards the back of her head. Her mouth felt dry, her eyes hurt and her entire body felt stiff.

   (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes, taking in the scenery around her. 

   "Ahh, you're waking up, good, I thought I had hit you too hard," (Y/N)'s head aches at the noise, causing a groan to spill past her lips. "Sorry about the whole head thing, you're still quite the runner I will admit, guess motherhood has caught up to you though," 

   "Where's- where's my baby?" The man chuckles as he casually flips a knife up and down in the air, catching it gracefully everytime it fell.

    "She's safe, don't you worry your pretty little face off-" "Where's my child you fucking piece of shit?" Suddenly the man springs forward, the knife pressed into (Y/N)'s throat rtght enough to draw rivulets of blood. 

   "If you're quiet I won't hurt ya too bad," he sneers, sending shivers of fright down (Y/N)'s spine. "I wouldn't want to cut that pretty face up too bad," The man slides his knife along (Y/N)'s cheek, slowly slicing it open. (Y/N) whimpered and flinched away, but not enough to the man's liking. He hummed in distaste as he slid the knife down her cheek once more, slowly and ever so painfully slicing the skin wide open. (Y/N) squirmed and moaned in pain, trying with all their night to get the pain to stop. Finally satisfied with his work the man sat back, admiring the way (Y/N)'s cheek parted and dribbled with blood. 

   "Ooh, that's a shame, my hand slipped," He chuckles darkly, his entire face contorting with wicked amusement. God- (Y/N) could only pray Alex was okay, even despite the way she was in excruciating pain she just wanted her sweet baby girl to be okay.

    (Y/N) slams her head against the pole behind her, the pole her arms were tied around painfully. Tears burned at her eyes but she wouldn't let her captor have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. 

   "Aww, are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Does your face hurt just a bit? Want me to kiss it better-" The man's sentence ends rather suddenly with a rather bubbly cough, the same cough (Y/N) had heard a thousand times while she was on missions; it was the sound a man dying. (Y/N) cracked her eyes open to see the man fall onto his face, blood pooling from a knife wound in his back. 

   Well- that was a rather sudden death, not that (Y/N) was complaining. 

   (Y/N) looks up to see exactly who her savior was but she wasn't expecting to see Nat, the woman she had left behind five years ago. (Y/N)'s brows furrow in confusion as Nat drops to her side, immediately untying her bonds.

    "Oh my god (Y/N)," Tears burn at Nat's eyes as she cups (Y/N)'s face in her hands, her thumb smoothing circles into her good cheek. "Oh my god you're alive. Steve told me what had happened and I was convinced that you were dead- oh my god (Y/N), I was so fucking scared." Scared? Nat was scared? No, (Y/N) was the one who deserved to be scared, not her. (Y/N) was the one who just had her face mutilated, she was the one who had been tied to a pole, she was the one who had been hit upside the head with a gun, she was the one who nearly lost her daughter to some hydra scum.

    "Alex," (Y/N) manages the word despite her dizzying pain. "Alex." She repeats again, her eyes growing wide with fear. "Alex, Alex." (Y/N) tried to stand up but the pain takes over and she falls back down, nearly smacking her head against the pole.

    "Take it easy," Nat whispers as she smooths her hands over (Y/N)'s sore cheek, an action she once found comforting but now it was far from that. Nothing could comfort (Y/N) except her baby girl at her side.

    "I think I found what you were looking for," Another voice suddenly chimes in, this one much deeper and yet softer. (Y/N) would recognize that voice anywhere, it belonged to Steve Rogers.

    Not a moment after his words he appears I'm the doorway, a small, red headed girl in his clutches. 

   "Mommy!" Alex cries as she squirms out of Steve's embrace, instead rushing over to (Y/N) to hug her tightly. "I was so scared mommy, I couldn't find you and the scary men wouldn't tell me where you were," Alex cries against her loudly, no doubt rubbing her snot and tears all over her shirt. 

   " 's okay Alex," (Y/N) pets his hair, soothing her softly. " 'm okay," 

   "No you're not mommy, you're bleeding everywhere, mommy- did they hurt you?" Alex cries harder, her beautiful eyes shrouded in tears. 

   (Y/N) can't say or do much other than hold Alex close and pet her hair, soothing her slowly. (Y/N) looked at Nat, at her tear filled eyes as she watched (Y/N) and Alex. (Y/N) knew it was wrong to want her affection, especially after what she said to her all those years ago but what (Y/N) needed right now was Nat, she needs her more than she ever had before.

    (Y/N) slowly scoots forward until she's right next to Nat, close enough that she could lean her head against her shoulder like the good old days. It felt so good to finally be back with nat, she'd been deprived of her affection for far too long. She needed the support right now, she needed Nat, her girlfriend, the mother of her child, she needed her like she needed air to breathe.

    Nat didn't waste any time wrapping her arms around (Y/N), pulling her a little closer. Her lips pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s sweaty hairline, a gesture that (Y/N) once was used to, now it was a novelty coming for anyone, especially Nat. 

   "We should probably get back home, stitch you up," Nat whispers to (Y/N), her arm running up and down (Y/N)'s soothingly. Even knowing how painful It would be to go back to the tower (Y/N) found herself agreeing, nodding immediately. 

    The tower was familiar and unfamiliar at once, almost like a déjà vu kind of feeling. Bruce had long since stitched (Y/N)'s cheek back together, telling her that it was going to leave some pretty nasty scars behind. But now she was parked on Nat's couch as Alex curled up in her lap, watching some princess show. Nat was beside them, though sitting away by quite a few feet. Her eyes remained glued on Alex the entire time, as though she were studying her like some lab specimen. 

   "You can hold her if you'd like...she's really affectionate," (Y/N) mumbles finally turning to look at Nat. Nat shakes her head, shying away from the two further. 

   "No...I couldn't...not after what I said to you..." (Y/N) sighs gently as she brushes some hair away from Alex's eyes. 

   "You were shocked, it's okay, plus, I think you made up for it today," Nat bites her lip as she looks at (Y/N) and Alex hesitantly.

    "Are you sure it's okay?" (Y/N) tries to smile but stops when she feels her cheek aching in pain.

    "Yeah, luckily for you she's asleep too, makes her even easier to work with," (Y/N) hands Alex over to Nat, settling back down into her seat when she was done. Immediately Alex curls into nat, smacking her lips tiredly as she buries her face in Nat's neck.

    "I came back that day, after you left that note," Nat bites her lip as she pets Alex's hair gently. "I was going to tell you I was already looking for cribs and strollers but when I got back-" Nat chokes up, tears blurring her eyes once again. "When I got back you weren't here. I didn't know where you had gone or if you were safe. For five years I wondered about you, obsessed about you. I couldn't help but imagine what would have happened if I hadn't stormed out that day. Maybe we'd be living in some small home in the country, raising our child together, maybe a couple of dogs too," Nat sighs shakily, biting back her tears as she holds Alex gently, slowly swaying her back and forth.

    "So you- you really did want to have our baby?"

    "Yes," Nat nods, sniffling softly, "I've been thinking about it- about her- ever since you left. I really did want to have our baby together, I wanted to help you be a mother, feed our baby, play with her, watch her grow..."

    "It's never too late," (Y/N) whispers timidly, hanging her head in embarrassment. "I'm sure Alex would love to have an extra mommy, plus...I realized how much I missed you- how much I need you. We can't just go back to our normal lives after this, we have to do something," 

   "Maybe we could start over? Let me prove to you that I want this? I can take you on dates, I can help with Alex, I'll do anything," (Y/N) nods, giving Nat her small, broken smile once again. 

   "Lets take things slow, not rush them. A first date would be a good start..." Nat smiles softly as she looks at Alex, sniffling once again. 

   "First date it is then," Nat looks to (Y/N), smiling a bit brighter than before. 

   They were nowhere near the intimacy and trust they had previously, and (Y/N) doubted she could ever truly forgive Nat for what she said and did but they were trying, and trying was a pretty damn good start.

[ladyofthursday]

11 Questions (Part 2)

Okey dokey, I’ve done one of these already but as I was tagged by the lovely @60r3d0m I shall do another! (Especially as these questions are pretty in depth and cool). 

If anybody wants to have a go at these questions to then go ahead! Also I wrote alot so be aware of a long post...

1. What episode/season of Supernatural was the first that you watched alongside the fandom on Tumblr?

Well I’m very new to Tumblr so it’ll be Season 13! I’ve only had Tumblr for a couple of months now so I’m kinda excited to chat about it with people and see all the cool stuff that people create - meta, art, fic, edits etc!

2. What’s your favourite Supernatural season? What’s your least fav.? Why?

Oh man, that’s a tough one... I really like season four - in fact I love seasons 1-5, I’m just re-watching them with (forcing them upon) my husband and there are some really great episodes. Least favourite season? I don’t know because I’ve not watched 9-12, I think season 8 just kinda drained me and I struggled with the start of 9 so I stopped watching it. But I do wanna watch what I missed in the middle. I’m loving season 13 though.  Also I only started watching at the end of last year so I haven’t had alot of time to catch up. 

3. When did you start shipping Dean/Cas? Any particular moment/aspect of the story that made you do it? If you had the power, how would you choose to canonize it?

Technically I think I started shipping them before I watched the show... I found out about Supernatural via Pinterest and there was so much stuff on there (with alot of Destiel) I thought I should start watching the show. So it’s always been there for me. I can’t really pinpoint a moment I realised it looked real for me though, it just happened. Somewhere in the middle of season 4 or 5, I just went ‘oh that’s what they’re talking about’! 

I think if I were to canonize it, I’d have done it ages ago! It kinda feels like queer-baiting now. But, on the other hand I think the show is in a perfect place to do it now within the next episode or two. It doesn’t need to be grand - just a simple gesture - a kiss, hand holding, a simple ‘I love you.’ That would be fine for me. (And I’d still sob buckets).   

4. For Supernatural, if you write fic./make art (or both), what’s something that you’ve created that you wished more people would read/see? If you don’t write fic./make art, what’s a fic./art piece that you feel deserves more attention?

I’m definitely not as prolific a writer as I’d like to be - real life gets in the way alot and I’m terrible at procrastinating. But if you want to check out my work in progress please do - it’s got mobsters, murder, smut and doctor Dean! Plus the rest is plotted, I just need to write the damn thing...

5. Which Supernatural character are you most like and why? Which character is your favourite and why?

Hmmm I’m probably quite a bit like Dean, at least on the surface - I love pie, classic rock, muscle cars and whiskey, plus I even wear alot of plaid and own a leather jacket (all bought before I watched the show). But I’m also pretty loyal and protective. I’m kinda like Sam too and when I started the show, I adored Sam most of all. I honestly don’t know who I’m like deep down - it’s probably a combination of different elements of Team Free Will. 

6. What’s a nightmare that you had that you can never forget? What happened in it that made you so afraid?

This is tricky but I still remember bits of a nightmare I had when I was like 6 or 7. All I can remember is I was being chased up a dark stairway by an evil deer, with giant antlers, that wanted to kill me. I don’t know why. But it terrified me and I can still remember it 20 years later. 

7. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened to you that you find hilarious looking back on? Or alternatively, what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you, regardless of whether it’s hilarious now or not?

I have anxiety so I think lots of things are embarrassing so I try to actively forget them. Luckily one piece of advice I got is ‘can you remember times when other people were embarrassed’ and the thing is that that is very difficult. So if you can’t remember when others were embarrassed, chances are they can’t remember when you were. 

8. What is one thing that someone’s said that stuck with you? Why did it stick?

I’m trying to think of a good one but all I can think of is: Don’t be a dick. I think that’s pretty good life advice. 

9. What is one issue (global, social-justice-related or something along those lines) that is important to you? Why?

I get riled up about a lot of issues and a lot of women’s issues. Especially around feminism, equal treatment, women’s health etc. I’m pretty lucky here in the UK that I can get free birth control, free smear tests and mammograms, access to abortion and lots of support should I choose to have kids - it totally baffles me that other people across the world have to pay for those things. Also I hate that governments try to tell women what to do with their bodies - it’s your life dammit! 

Recently, I got married, and I’m dreading the day people ask me when I’ll have kids - none of you damn business. Don’t ask that question. 

But it’s also important to remember, alongside women’s issues, about things like toxic masculinity and how that can really affect men. 

I have lots to say about many things, but I’ll try not to rant here... if you ever wanna chat about issues though, message me and we can chat/rant! 

10. What is one thing that you wish that you could change about yourself? Why?

I try not to think about things I wish I could change because I’ve got a history with mental health and comparing myself to others or thinking negatively about myself doesn’t help. So, as one therapist advised, I try and think about things I like about myself instead. 

That being said I’d love to lose a little weight (I like food), be more dedicated to writing and procrastinate less. Also I’m sure my husband would like it if I did more housework because I am horribly untidy...

11. What was the last thing that put a smile on your face and made your heart twinge with happiness?

My husband - I love him so much. (Also he shows me cute pictures of animals and makes me dinner and gives me foot rubs because he is 100% amazing).