#however i went ham on the shading a bit too much so now it’s also vaguely art deco

[qc-wiggles]

for the music thing annabelle and 73!! :-3

city slicker - ginger root

[admiringlove]

the sky is the same.

synopsis. akaashi keiji and the sky have a special connection. 

pairing. akaashi keiji x gn!reader.

genre. one-shot; angst to fluff.

word count. 5.1k.

warnings. angst; swearing; mentions of alcohol.

author’s notes. this piece is for my tumblr mother, @sunarent​‘s 500 milestone event! congrats, and i kinda went ham with the writing on this one sooo :)

navigation. main menu, hq menu.

Akaashi Keiji and the sky had a special connection.

It was as if no matter what the sky looked like, he fell in love with it over and over again. The mornings would look like heaven had fallen into Earth's hands; the way rays of the sun individually divided themselves through clouds, like the color of egg nog on Christmas mornings. The blue backdrop was only a side character in the show, yet still important nonetheless.

He'd wear his coat, straighten his tie, comb his hair(but then it would never look right, so he'd mess it up with his hand again and hum triumphantly), tie his shoes and leave his home with three large onigiris in a paper bag every morning. One for him and one for each of his friends.

He'd meet up with you at the train station—when the sky is starting to clear up a bit on normal days, the yellow rays fade away now, and blue is prominent as he boards the train and catches two seats as quickly as he can. He hands you your breakfast as you exchange a little can of cold coffee with him, talking about everything and nothing in the process till you get to school(where Bokuto awaits the two of you around a block away from the gates).

The two of you would meet up with Bokuto, exchanging pleasantries but then immediately going back to normal with your teasings and casual demeanors. The ace, being himself, would scarf down the onigiri almost as quickly as it was handed to him. He'd end up coughing a bit, and as if right on time and on cue with the routine, you'd give him a can of his favorite drink.

The day would pass on, the sky changing along with it. During the mid-afternoon, it'd look completely blue. Sometimes like a painting, Akaashi would be able to point out different shades, and sometimes he wouldn't. During the summer, the clouds would be big and fluffy, titanium white shining right over everyone's heads as they went about whatever they wanted. During the winter, the yellow or whatever color the sky felt like being that morning would stick around for much longer, and he'd absolutely adore it.

Lunch would come around, and he'd be far away from a window at times. Most of the time though, unless it's raining or snowing, he'd end up dragging you and Bokuto out to the bench underneath that one cherry tree that has been here longer than the school has. Deep discussions, light-hearted jokes, planning little trips to the arcade or the movies or that one amusement park, mindless talking—it all took place here. The bench and the tree were probably the fourth and fifth friends of the group, deciding to listen to problems or rants instead of speaking and just providing comfort in return. It was nice; sometimes it felt like school life could drag on forever and Keiji wouldn't complain, because it was easy. It was easy and reckless like this. His second year at high school. Studying wasn't too hard, college preparatory lectures were boring and easy, volleyball was stressful but fun, and everything else in between made him feel at ease most of the time.

(It could probably be compared to floating.)

It wasn't like he hated change—no, in fact, he loved it. Change was nice, it was spontaneous and wonderful. He loved the way the sky could change colors as to however it wants every single day. He revered the way as the sun sets, it brings a standstill to everyone's hearts as it drowns itself in the horizon of the ocean. The shadows got longer, the lights came on as it got darker and darker. And as there's no sign of the sun anymore, tiny twinkles littered the sky as if an extra blanket of warmth during the snowy days.

But he also loved the way things were. You, him, Bokuto, and the world. It felt really good. Too good.

So when Bokuto says he's moving to the other side of the city after this year, it shakes Akaashi to the core. It's lunchtime; the three of you are at the same bench, everything is the same but something feels off.

Oh, he thinks. That's right. The fearful anticipation of change.

It's not like he's never seeing Bokuto again. He is, it's just that it's going to be less. Everything is going to change next year—he's going to be captain of the volleyball team, Bokuto will come every weekend to visit, there will be more responsibility on his shoulders, his parents will pressure him to get into Tokyo University(even though he has assurance from most teachers that at this rate, he already has a seat secured), and so much more. Instead of three onigiri, he's going to have to carry only two. 

Your hand cuts him out of his daze. "You okay, Keiji?" 

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he waves you off as you continue to discuss things about Bokuto's university and if there will be cute girls there for him to date. You tell him you'll help him if need be, and to tell you every detail of every romantic interaction. Keiji gives in his input here and there to make sure he doesn't attract your attention, and other than that, lunch goes quite well.

The school day ends and Akaashi's about to split his way with you when you say, "You're scared, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, what?" he replies, suddenly stopping. You tilt your head, knowingly looking at him. He can tell you noticed the way he behaved at lunch, but he doesn't want to talk about it. He's putting it off for probably a worse time. 

"Keiji," you pause, "I'm scared too. But I have you, so it's okay."

Akaashi stops now. It's as if his whole world came to a halt. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, and he thinks it's probably the first time you made his heart flutter like that. You give him a faint smile, and he can't hear you but you're saying something along the lines of, "see you tomorrow" or "I'll text you once I get home". This moment, although, he wants it to last forever. The comfort you provided him with from just six words makes him feel as if you're a hearth during the coldest winter he's ever seen. 

I have you, so it's okay.

You didn't know it yet, but you made his mind race like a Ferrari on steroids with that sentence.

It scared him.  He doesn't have any other words to describe it. Every day, getting up and looking forward to spending it with you—the walk to the train station when the yellow rays are fading away, filled to the brim with anticipation and reckless worrying. Will you be there today? Would you have texted him if you'd suddenly fallen sick and couldn't come to school today? But then he'd see you sitting on that same bench, waiting for him as you checked the time on your watch and everything would be fine. He'd let out a sigh, run up to you and sit with you until the train gets there.

(One could say it’s his favorite part of the day.)

Whenever Friday rolls around, he's a nervous wreck. His brain is fighting wars with itself from the inside out whenever he pulls out his phone and clicks on your icon, texting you and asking you if you wanted to do something. Sometimes you'd say "sure, you pick and I'll be there :)", and sometimes you'd say "drop the message on the groupchat, we should let Bo know too!"—which, he never really minded. He loved having both his best friends in the same room, so it was like killing two birds with one stone.

March rolled around way too quickly for Keiji's liking. Here he was, standing outside Bokuto's house with you, saying his goodbyes. Bokuto kept reassuring you he'd come to visit every weekend(except exams), and you only nodded with glassy eyes. Akaashi was silent for most of it, except for when the ace was just about to get into his car, "I'll miss you, Bokuto-san. Be safe."

"I'll miss you guys more!" Bokuto's voice rang through the entire street as the car drove further and further away until it made a right turn. Akaashi could only watch, his throat clogging up all of a sudden and his eyes glassy. He removes his reading glasses, and as he's about to wipe away the one tear that's almost forming around the slit of his eye, he catches a glance at you.

You, the person who he thought was stronger than him emotionally, were crying. Your lip quivering as you stood there, both hands covering your mouth just in case any sobs leak. Akaashi reaches out for one of your hands, and you almost flinch as your eyes meet his gunmetal ones. He sighs, taking your other hand too after he places his glasses on his collar. You pressed your lips together, tears cascading down your cheeks as he says, "Don't worry."

A sob escapes your lips and just as quickly, he's caressing the back of your head that's on his chest. One of your hands is on his back as you tremble every now and then, and the other bunches his shirt in a fist. You're sniffing; eyes shut as Akaashi encases you in his embrace like a warm blanket. He smells like the scent that comes with rain—it's soft, soothing, and lingering and something he says makes you feel the happiest you've ever been.

"You have me, so you'll be okay," he says, hand rubbing your back, "Come on, let's go get some cold coffee at the shop with cake."

"The one with the mousse?"

(He almost chuckles as he reaches out to caress your hair.)

"Yes, your favorite one. Now, come on."

The sky was purple when the two of you were Seniors for the first time.

Akaashi saw you a few blocks away from the train station that day, watching someone buy roses at the florist. He wanted to call out to you, to say your name as loud so he could so you'd look over at him instead. However, you look at him anyway, your mouth curving into a grin as soon as your eyes land on him. You lift your hand, waving slowly for a few seconds. He walks with you to school, the April morning calm and soothing as you board the train.

What used to be you, Bokuto, and Akaashi under cherry trees soon turned to just you and him. Along with the diners, the coffee shops, the walks in the park, and almost everything except the weekends. On Saturday mornings, Bokuto would meet the two of you at the train station—and the three of you would feel like kids again just for a bit until he had to leave.

(Nostalgia was a fickle feeling, he’d learned it the hard way.)

It's a Friday evening during your Spring break and you're sitting on the grass at the park with some snacks and your English Literature textbooks, the cherry above you wilting slowly as Keiji reads a dialogue from the page. The view really is ethereal; volleyball team Captain Akaashi Keiji adorns a navy blue long-sleeved shirt along with his reading glasses, his hair is messy as always but the wind helps it look more chaotic, his voice is calming like the coffee you drink before going to school. Your lip curls upwards as you look at him.

You've gotten closer to Akaashi after Bokuto left for college. Sometimes, it feels like the two of you aren't just friends. You want to question it, you really do, but what's the point of ruining a five-year-old friendship if you aren't even sure your feelings are reciprocated? So you stop smiling and look down at your textbook, flipping the page and reading your lines.

Keiji feels his heartstrings tighten when he flips the page too, his line staring back at him in horror. You clear your throat awkwardly just before it, and his cheeks turn into a crimson red as he's forced to read it, "M-my dearest love."

(He wants to crawl in a hole and bury himself there. How was it suddenly so cold in the park? Why did it turn him so red?)

He pauses, your eyes intently staring back at him as the script of Macbeth falls from his hands. He reaches for the water bottle that's almost discarded to the side as you look down again, he almost downs half the bottle before he looks at the script again, "Duncan comes here tonight."

"And when goes hence?" you say, a teasing smile on your lips. It's innocent, but it makes his heart do a backflip while jump-roping. He coughs now, albeit it's fake, he's sure he's convinced you it was real as he reads off, "Tomorrow, as he purposes."

He watches you look down at the playbook, your hair falling over your forehead gently as the wind blows, your smile still lingering as you speak. He almost grins, because if he'd told himself in his second year of high school that he'd be sitting at the park reading Shakespeare with you, his younger self would've gone completely crazy. He figures it's probably not just a reckless crush that he has on you—it's clearly something more, something he craves, but it scares him. So he pushes it to the back of his mind once again.

Months pass yet again.

It's like a velvet blanket littered with white dots—you're walking alongside him, it's almost midnight and the train station is empty as the two of you leave it. This week was exams week for Bokuto, so instead of him coming over, you and Keiji had surprised him with junk food at his dorm. And since it was Bokuto you were with, time seemed to pass by without a trace.

Here you were, arms linked like a metal chain with Akaashi Keiji, cold winds of autumn swirling around you as leaves started falling off their respective branches. Your breaths were almost visible, even though it wasn't even winter yet. You're in your neighborhood now, the comfortable silence falling short as Akaashi breaks it, "We need to talk about something."

"Ooh, did you finally get with that girl who confessed to you last week? Himari, was it?" you ask jokingly. He raises an eyebrow with pursed lips as if asking 'seriously?' through his face. You pout, chuckling as you say, "Okay. Shoot."

(Every fiber in his being tells him to stop. But he begs to differ.)

"We haven't talked about where we're going after high school yet," he says, "Whenever I ask the question or even bring up the topic, you name around ten different universities each time to confuse me."

You're about to argue, and he can't tell, so he doesn't let you speak, "A-ah! None of that, 'I'm not sure where I wanna go' bullshit. I already know you have something planned. Someone like you doesn't take stuff like this lightly."

You hate him for being right. Of all times, you think, why now? Why did he have to question you now, when everything felt at a standstill. There were still a few months left for you to graduate high school. Hell, you'd even gotten your acceptance letter already, but the thought of telling your best friend scared you. He's looking at you intently, knowingly even, and all you can do is stare at his chest. You're brooding in thought, vision almost blurring as he awaits your answer. A bitter taste overcomes your mouth as you clench your jaw and shut your eyes as tightly as you can, trying to forget that you might be ruining everything you have now just to chase your dreams.

"You know we don't have all night, right?" he jokes. It's quiet again as you bat your eyelids once. Then once again. He looks at your expression, and it's almost like he can read your face because the next thing he asks is, "Is it not in Japan?"

"What?"

"You've either applied or already gotten accepted into a university that's outside Japan, right?" he snickers dryly, his smile not meeting his eyes, "That's it, isn't it?"

"C-Cambridge."

His throat goes completely dry now if it hadn't already. He gulps, nodding slowly as he becomes the one to divert the topic now, "Come on, let's get you home."

Akaashi doesn't know what hits him when his back falls against his bed that night, but he's crying. It's not pretty either—whimpers are escaping his lips every few seconds, his eyes are completely swollen and his throat almost closes up. Oh God, he can't breathe. 

But he forces his eyes shut, puts the burning feeling of his heart at the back of his mind for the nth time, and falls asleep due to exhaustion. 

He hates that it feels like the next few months passed by within the blink of an eye. All he remembers is you, the final exams, the graduation ceremony, celebrating with Bokuto, and then here you are. In his room, a night before you leave to fulfill your dreams. You're sitting on the edge of his bed, saying something about how hectic it is to pack everything and move to a completely different country. He's seen you run around your room frantically almost too many times to count now, asking what clothes you should pack and what photo frames to keep in your suitcase. He's helped you put things that weren't needed in cardboard boxes too, and as you go on about the Literature department at Cambridge, an impulsive thought comes to his mind. 

He wants to kiss you.

And suddenly, all those times he's pushed his feelings for you resurface to the front of his irises. Reading Macbeth at the park, walking hand-in-hand from the train station after surprising Bokuto, you telling him that you have him so you'll be okay. He hates it—he hates all of it because Akaashi Keiji had come to the realization that he had fallen in love with you a long time ago. He was afraid to admit it, and he hates himself even more now. Because what if he hadn't been a scaredy-cat and just told you when he'd bought you that mousse cake? What if he'd kissed you goodbye that evening? Everything would be different, wouldn't it? He would be yours, you'd say "I love you" to him, he would call you "love" or "darling" without feeling flustered, he'd read you cheesy Shakespeare lines before bed and kiss your forehead. He'd caress your hair when you stayed awake two nights in a row to complete your essays, he'd bring you chamomile tea in the morning when your head would hurt and he would bake for you if you were hungry later. 

If only, he thinks. 

But then you look up from your notepad. A sigh escapes your lips as you cross your bare legs(you're wearing shorts, but it still manages to make Keiji blush), and you throw the pen you were holding to the side as you say, "Hey."

He only hums in return. 

"Come here."

That's it. Something in him just snaps. He almost slams whatever he has in his hand on his desk, and you furrow your brows as he walks over to you. He bends down so his head is leveled with yours, and he whispers, "Close your eyes."

"B-but why-"

"Just.. close your eyes," when he repeats himself, you oblige. He then lets out a shaky breath, his hands slowly reach your cheeks, holding your jaw as if you were the most fragile thing on Earth. You gasp when his lips fall onto yours, and your back hits the wall that the bed was pushed up against. You don't fight back, instead, you kiss him back just as passionately. Your hands pull on his shirt, and he sits on the bed in front of you, pinning you to the wall as he slides his tongue into your mouth. And again, you let it happen. You let him kiss you, you let his hands hold you, you let his kisses travel to your jaw, your ear, and your neck. And you let him lay on top of you as the two of you stare at one another breathlessly, chests heaving as you laugh. You would pay every single penny in your life savings to capture the sight in front of your eyes and hold it there forever, but the sky keeps changing its color from lavender to the darkest blue. 

You don't get a wink of sleep that night. You're talking with him, stealing kisses here and there, fingers twirling his hair or lips pecking his jaw. It's reckless—it's completely foolish, even, but you let it happen anyway. 

You love Akaashi Keiji. And he loves you back just as much, maybe infinitely more. Which is probably why as the sky turns a pinkish hue, he wakes you up, saying it's time. 

(The feeling in his throat is bittersweet. His heart hurts. He does it anyway.)

He loves you, which is probably why he tortures himself and comes with you to the airport, and waits as you put your suitcases on the conveyor belt with the help of your parents. He loves you, which is probably why as you stand in front of him, asking him to give you even one reason to stay, he stays quiet. His lips are as straight as a line as a single tear falls from his eye, and he refuses to meet your glassy gaze. Your tone is desperate, and you're almost begging him to say it. 

"Keiji, I love you."

But he stays quiet. In his mind, he's screaming at the top of his lungs. The three words and your name repeat in his brain so loud that it reaches his ears. Your cries crack his heart and cut through every single heartstring, but he clenches his fists by his side and remains as silent as a pin on the floor. 

You stop crying now, wiping your tears with the sleeve of the denim jacket you wore. He decides to speak now, but his line of vision is still fixed onto the floor, "Don't give up, okay?"

You nod, and just then, the speakers announce that your plane is going to board in half an hour. He wants to look at you one last time, but he knows that if he does, he'll say something wrong and make you stay.

So he grabs your shoulders and turns you around, and slightly pushes your back, "You can do it," he says, and you nod again, the smallest whimper escaping your lips as you step forward.

When you turn back just before boarding, he waves, and then he leaves.

(He hopes to see you again. To hold you again. But he tells himself to not think of such things as you leave. He tells himself to be happy for you instead.)

Akaashi Keiji, now twenty-three, is furiously typing away at his laptop at five in the morning when the obnoxious ringtone Bokuto had downloaded onto his phone just for him plays. He sighs, before answering the call and putting it on speaker from experience.

"Good morning Akaashi!"

(The experience saved his eardrums from bursting.)

"Good morning to you too, Bokuto-san, are you leaving your home for your daily jog?" he asks, and the ace hums in return. His owl-haired friend talks about how the season had gone well for the Jackals, then suddenly goes quiet.

"Bokuto-san? You okay?"

"Keiji, can I ask you something?" the volume of Bokuto's voice is significantly lower, which makes Akaashi stop his typing on the laptop and furrow his eyebrows in confusion. He picks up his phone, and takes it off speaker mode, and puts it to his ear, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to ask if you'd come to the bar tonight, is all. There's someone you need to see, I think you'll like them."

(Akaashi internally facepalms.)

"Is this you trying to set me up on a blind date again? Because I told you already, our tastes don't match at all. The model from last time thought I was boring and I thought she was too model-y. I know French but the way she talked to me in French made me think I'm dumb even though I aced that class in college," he groans now, looking at the '4%' battery on his laptop. He shuts it down, rolling his shoulders back and rubbing his eye.

"No, no, this is different! Just a friend, I promise!" he hears Bokuto reply, "Please come to the bar tonight? For me?"

"Fine."

Akaashi's taste is simple. He always looks like someone straight out of a mystery or romance novel. ‘Elegant’ is how Bokuto describes his wardrobe once. The number of blazers, turtlenecks, dress pants, loafers, scarves—the ace was astounded when he saw Akaashi's closet for the first time.

So, as per usual, Akaashi shows up to the bar wearing exactly what Bokuto thought he would be. A black turtleneck and plaid pants. He waves over his head for Akaashi to see him, grinning from ear-to-ear like the Cheshire cat as Keiji finally walks up to him.

"Come on, let me introduce you to my friend."

"A-already?"

"Trust me, you'll like them," Bokuto winks, guiding Akaashi through the crowd. He stops abruptly, and Akaashi almost bumps into his back.

And then, he sees it. The person Bokuto wanted to introduce to him. It was you. Albeit it was awkward, seeing you in a club of all places after all these years, you still gave him a tight-lipped smile and waved.

"[Y/N]," he breathily spoke your name as if he'd just ran a marathon, "It's you."

"It's me," you chuckle, and just as you're about to continue talking, Bokuto says, "I'm gonna let you two catch up, I have to meet someone."

(Akaashi wants to swear at Bokuto. But he also thanks him mentally.)

Your face grows red as you try to stop him from going, yelping out the nickname you used to call him back in high school, "Bo!", but he slips away before you can catch him. You huff as Akaashi sits next to you, ordering a drink before saying, "Hey, I read your book."

"Y-you did?" you ask, blinking slowly as you reach for your glass. He nods, and somehow Akaashi feels like he's a high-school kid again. He talks about everything and nothing with you again—Cambridge, his shounen mangas(he even tells you he wanted to work in the literature department but they didn't have openings), college. And somehow, time passes just as quickly as it did back then. You're outside the club now, and he assumes you're walking to your place as the two of you continue to behave like the kids you used to be. You giggle aimlessly as you ask, "So, did you find someone or are you still a virgin?"

He almost chokes with his reply, "No! I've had my fair share of-"

"You sure 'bout that?" you raise your eyebrow.

"Fine, I dated two people," he rolls his eyes at how accurately you read him, "I was a sophomore in college during my first time. Drunk out of my mind."

"I did not expect that from you," you give him an unreadable expression, your eyes narrow and nose scrunched up. He shakes his head, saying, "No no, the morning after was even funnier. Turns out she sat behind me in class and we immediately hit it off. We dated for a couple of months then broke up though."

"Mine was just awkward," you shudder, "We were both really quiet, and stopped after like, ten minutes. I got dressed up and told him I had to walk my roommate's dog. My roommate had a fish for a pet."

Akaashi snorts out laughing, his eyes turning into crescent moons and voice still ever-so-melodic. You stop in your tracks—hearing it after so long made your heart beat right out of your chest. It was so loud that you could hear it rippling in your ears. His laughter slowly dies down as he asks, "What happened after?"

"We didn't talk ever again," you chuckle. He laughs again, and you stop once you reach an apartment complex around two to three blocks away from the club. You stand there, still, to continue talking to Akaashi.

"Did you miss Japan?" he asks.

"Oh yeah," you reminisce, "Definitely. I think I missed you most."

His heart skips a beat at that. A warm feeling encompasses him, and it floats around the two of you as you clear your throat, "I uh.."

He looks at you patiently, as if telling you to take your time with your words as you ask, "At the airport that day I left... can I ask why you stayed quiet?"

You never fail to surprise him, do you? He smiles at the thought, a blush forming under his cheeks. His heart beats faster, and his fingers fiddle with one another. he thinks for a moment, replaying the scenes in his head as if they were shot on film. You rub the back of your neck, and just as you're about to say, "Leave it, it's alright", Akaashi Keiji does the unthinkable.

"Because I loved you."

Your eyes widen as soon as he says it, and he almost grimaces. If it weren't for what you'd asked next, he would probably be walking away already.

"And.. do you still feel the same way?"

His brain screams at him the same way it did back at the airport. It screams him to say yes. It screams him to just pull you in by the waist and press his lips on yours and kiss you until your lips are swollen. He doesn't say anything, though. All he does is take a step towards you, and when you don't back away, he comes as close as he can before whispering in your ear, "Is it that obvious?"

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You grin almost immediately, eyes glassy as you don't even give him the chance to say anything further. You grab his shirt and pull him with force, and his lips align with yours just as perfectly as they did back then. You smile into it, as he says, "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back at the airport. I didn't want you to give up your career for me."

"Well then, say it now, dummy."

"I love you too, [Y/N]."

And yes, the sky is the exact same from when he’d kissed you for the first time, so he just smiles even more widely as he holds you tight, never wanting to let go ever again.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

These Fanfics of Shin and Carla of nice and all...but we want the story on how Carla Tsukinami stoke your ham sandwich! The greedy bast*rd he is...

Anon, this is one of my favourite asks ever and I love you. Thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to shamelessly insert myself into the world of DL I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)

I wrote myself as a nameless herione (because I don’t think most of you know my name) which also means you can treat it as a reader insert if you want to, but bare in mind this is based on how I would react in this situation and there are some details that are a bit specific to me.

“Hm, I wonder if I’m allowed up here?” The girl glanced back at the door to the rooftop of Ryoutei Academy, trying to spot any sort of kanji that could translate to “Keep Out” but found none. Shrugging to herself she concluded that if anyone caught her up here when she wasn’t supposed to be, then she would have to play the confused foreign student card and hope for the best.

A mild scolding seemed better than going back to the cafeteria anyway.

She looked down at the slightly sorry looking lunchbox in her hands and loosed a sigh. It was only her second day at her new school and already she felt herself desperately missing her friends and the familiarity of her old school. 

The other students had all been pleasant enough- aside from the boy with glasses in her class, who she’d caught eyeing the hemline of her skirt with obvious disapproval, as though it was somehow her fault that whoever made the school uniform had not done so with five foot nine female transfer students in mind- but the thought of trying to navigate getting food when almost all of the signs were in kanji she didn’t recognize made her gut roll with anxiety.

Besides at least the rooftop was pretty, with troughs of well kept roses lining the space and a perfect view of Kaminashi town, just beyond the iron railing, the lights from the small shopping district a warm glow against the midnight blue sky.

The girl walked over to the edge of the rooftop, intent on giving herself a moment to admire the townscape when a nearby rose caught her eye. It’s petals were such a dark red, they looked almost black in the modest illumination provided by the few lights lining the roof. She crouched down on the balls of her feet and set her lunchbox carefully to the side. Something about the scene, the dark flower with the night sky behind it, made her fingers itch with the urge to sketch it. 

“I don’t think I could do the dark colors justice with my watercolors and I can’t do realism with markers so maybe colored pencils would be best?” She muttered to herself she tried to find the perfect angle for some reference photos she could use later, while reaching into her pocket for her phone. “Acrylics could work I guess but I don’t have any canvas here and I-”

“What are you doing?” A low voice came from right beside her ear. The girl let out a high-pitched shriek and jolted in surprise, barely catching her balance in time.

She loosed a breath before turning her head in the direction of whoever had spoken, but before she could, they spoke again.

“Hahh, that’s no good… Hmph!” A rough shove sent her sprawling into the roses. Thorns scratched at her skin and she cursed as her hands plunged in the damp mulch, just barely stopping her from face-planting into the dirt. The rest of her however, was not so lucky, and she knew from the way her torso had landed in the soil that her skirt’s hemline had just become the least of her worries as far as her uniform was concerned.

A cruel laugh came from behind her and she turned to look up, filled with some mixture of anger and embarrassment. 

But whatever had been brewing petered out the moment she laid eyes on the culprit. He was quite possibly the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen; short choppy, strawberry blonde hair framed pale face with an eye the most incredible shade of gold. 

He was utterly stunning.

The effect was promptly ruined however, when he opened his mouth, face twisting into a sneer.

“Haha, how pathetic, crawling around in the dirt.” He continued to chuckle as she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, wincing slightly at the way they stung where they’d scraped against the ground. 

“Heehhh, aren’t you going to say something?” The boy asked, the humor in his expression dying down as he regarded her as one might a spot of mould on a piece of bread. “Or is it that you’re so stupid, you can’t understand what I’m saying?”

The girl froze slightly, unsure how to navigate whatever was going on. Was this guy a bully? Her strategy for dealing with bullies until now had generally been to avoid them or ignore them, neither of which seemed like a good idea here.

“Oiii Miss idiot, are you going to keep ignoring me until I do something like this?” Before she could react the boy placed a heavy black boot on her hand and started to put his weight onto it.

Shit.

“What do you want from me?” She blurted out, praying silently that she hadn’t messed up the Japanese grammar, which really shouldn’t have been a concern given this encounter could feasibly end with a broken hand.

The pressure stopped briefly and she took the chance to tug her hand out from her under his shoe and get to her feet. The girl was a little surprised to find that the boy was no taller than she was, although his general aura of menace certainly made him intimidating enough without needing any extra height. 

“Ah, so you can talk. As for what I want… why don’t we start with an apology for shrieking in my ear earlier? It hurt you know?” He made a show of obnoxiously cleaning out his ear with his finger and the girl found herself completely lost for words. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, there were a lot of words swirling in her brain, all of them English and not to be used amongst polite company.

Biting back the urge to tell him to fuck off, she reminded herself that she was currently alone with this guy on a rooftop and angering him further probably would not end well. “I apologize for shouting in your ear, you surprised me. I’ll be going now.” Lunch forgotten, she went to make a hasty retreat to the rooftop door but was stopped short when the male put himself directly into her path. 

“Not so fast, you haven’t answered my question yet. What were you doing up here, sticking your head into the roses like some kind of animal?” The girl tried to keep her breathing even, as she felt panic rise in her veins.

“I wanted to take pictures as drawing references, I didn’t realize that-” an arsehole like you would show up “-someone else was already here, forgive me, I’ll be on my way.” She went to take a step around him, when the boy took a step towards her, forcing her to take one back. Soon her back was pressed up against the railing and she internally cursed.

“You just wanted to draw some pictures of the flowers? Isn’t that a bit childish? Well, I guess you still wear kid’s underwear so I shouldn’t be surprised.” The girl spluttered and instinctively went to yank down her skirt, a slightly ridiculous action, considering he must have seen everything when he pushed her earlier. 

“That-that doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she said, eyes on the ground as her face burned with shame. “Please, just let me leave.”

“You know, you still sound pretty demanding for someone who’s shaking and is covered in mud. Also,” he paused, sniffing the air briefly before glancing down at her knees, “ah I wondered where that awful scent was coming from, geez human blood really isn’t appealing at all.” The girl looked at her legs and caught sight of red liquid staining her knees, but that wasn’t what made her pause.

“Human blood? What are you-” A cold dread spread through her as she looked back up at the boy and the inhuman color of his iris. This had to be some sort of awful prank right?

“Oh, maybe I spoke too much, but that reaction isn’t bad, haha. Hey, what do you think I am?” He asked her, opening his mouth just wide enough to reveal a pair of gleaming white fangs.

“That’s… There’s no way… You can’t…” The girl struggled to process the image in front of her, trying to find some sensible sounding explanation. He had to be a nutjob with fake fangs right? A nutjob who liked to terrorize girls on rooftops and happened to go to a night school.

“Ah how boring. Shouldn’t most girls be crying with fear by now? I don’t want to but, would you react a bit more if I pierced you with these fangs?” He lowered his face and panic surged through her. Lunatic or something else, she had no intention of being bitten by him. The girl went to shove him away from her, but before she could blink he had her arms pinned above her head.

“It seems you still haven’t learned that I’m not the sort of person you should fight back against. Hey, how much would it take to make you cry?” His grip on her wrists tightened and she winced at the strength in his grip. “Your wrists are pretty thin, I’d barely have to use any of my strength to snap your bones.”

“Please stop!” She begged, as she silently prayed for someone, anyone to intervene.

“Oi Shin, what are you doing?” An incredibly deep voice came from the entrance to the rooftop and the girl said a silent word of thanks.

“Huh,” Shin looked over his shoulder, allowing the girl a glance at her savior. He was tall, with long white hair, that appeared dyed pink at the tips. A dark scarf covered the lower half of his face, while above it were a pair of piercing golden eyes. 

A shudder ran down her spine as her gaze locked with his for a moment, suddenly feeling a lot less safe than she had just a moment ago.

“Ah brother, I was just having a bit of fun.” The girl wasn’t sure which part of this statement horrified her more. That her so called savoir was actually related to the demonic pile of steaming garbage in front of her or that this was Shin’s version of fun. 

“That’s enough, we have matters to discuss.” The man walked over from the door to the roof, his footsteps stopping just behind Shin.

“Tch,” Shin let go of her arms, only to grip hold of her chin, moving his face uncomfortably close to hers. “Hey, if you tell anyone about what happened here, I’ll rip your tongue out, got it?” His fangs caught the light as he spoke, and the girl felt very close to tears as she muttered a soft yes. 

Shin flashed her that nasty smile of his before letting go. “Well then, get out of here!” 

Needing no further prompting, she hastily got away from him, pausing only to grab her school bag. As she did so, she caught sight of her lunchbox in the older boys hands and faltered. 

“Go!” Shin yelled and the girl concluded that the ham sandwich and peanut butter flavored chocolate bar contained in the hundred yen tupperware were not worth her life as she borderline ran to the rooftop door, slamming it shut behind her. 

***

Carla watched the girl flee from the rooftop with a dispassionate expression. 

“What exactly did you do?” He asked, more concerned with trying to keep their low profile as they furthered their objective than anything else.

“Nothing much, I just toyed with her a bit. She’s only a human so it doesn’t really matter does it? More importantly, why did you keep hold of that?” Shin nodded towards the plastic container in Carla’s hands. 

Carla said nothing as he opened up the box and pulled out a modest sandwich wrapped neatly in clingfilm. Removing some of the wrap, he sniffed it briefly before muttering.

“I thought so.”

Shin took a deep breath through his nose. “Ah, I see, a dry cured ham sandwich huh?”

“Normally I would never eat something prepared by human hands but to take away the taste of that polluted blood, it can’t be helped.” Carla lowered his scarf and took a bite of the sandwich, chewing a few times as he deemed it to be palatable before swallowing. “Oi Shin, take this.” He threw a plastic wrapped bar at his brother and Shin caught it without effort.

He turned it over in his hands before spotting the reason why his brother had given it to him. “Peanut butter huh? Well at least it seems that girl’s good for something.”

[lovemesomesurveys]

How do you feel about full length beards? I’m not into a lot of facial hair. I like some scruff, but that’s it. Have you ever been to a circus? Yeah, once. I was naive and didn’t know about the abuse that went on at the time. Do you know anyone who’s gone to a Fat Camp? No. Do you use Facebook IM everyday? No. I don’t even remember the last time I used it. How many surveys have you done already today? This is my first.

What’s the WORST show on Adult Swim? I don’t care for the Adult Swim shows. Family Guy and American Dad is okay, but after that it gets too stupid and weird for me. Sorry. Like once I saw this show, Mr. Pickles, and uh... wtf. The episode I saw was very disturbing. I don’t get the appeal of Rick and Morty at all. And why the hell is Mike Tyson Mysteries a thing? That’s just to name a few. I see previews of other shows and I just... wow. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? No. Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? Not maliciously or because they thought it was horrible and wanted to embarrass me, but yeah. My mom has posted photos where she didn’t see anything wrong and she thinks I looked fine, but I was like EW NO take that down it’s hideous. I reallyyyy don’t like photos of me taken by someone else. I have to take my own photos if I’m going to take one at all because I know the angles and lighting and can add a filter. Plus, I can take a ton before finally settling on one. If someone else takes the photo and they want to post it, I have to approve. Which grade in school was the most fun for you? I enjoyed elementary and middle school. High school had its ups and downs, but there were parts I liked. I liked the last 2 years the best. Which would you rather have, a new puppy or kitten? I wouldn’t want another pet right now to be honest. We have our doggo and one suits our family best right now. Does drama seem to follow you everywhere you go? No, thankfully. I have other issues I struggle with, but not drama. Do you ever just want to go away to a new place where no one knows you? I don’t live in a small town where everyone knows everyone and I was never Miss Popularity, so apart from family and a few other people, not a lot of people know me. However, I do want move away to a new place. My family and I have wanted to for a long time, we just haven’t been able to. A change of environment and scenery would be really nice. You’re ordering a pizza, you can have any kind of toppings, what are they? I’m a simple gal, I just like white sauce, feta and ricotta cheese, garlic, spinach, and crumbled meatballs with pesto drizzled on top. Do you hit ‘quiet’ or ‘ignore’ on your cell? Which one usually? Nah. If my phone rings and I don’t want to answer it, I just let it ring. Do you ever regret giving your number to people? I have before with some people. Have you ever been told that you’re afraid of your own shadow? Haha yeah. Have you ever tried Gouda cheese? Nope. Does/did your high school have pop machines? No. They decided to remove them the year I entered high school, which I was mad about. Do you use a public computer, or do you have your own? I have my own laptop. Do you ever find it odd how you type LOL when you’re not really laughing? >> No, because I understand that its function has moved far beyond representing actual laughing-out-loud. <<< Yeah. I remember discussing that in a class once. Have you ever gambled? A couple times. Not my thing. Although, what really made my experience unenjoyable wasn’t so much the gambling, it was that the casinos I’ve been to allow smoking and I don’t do well with cigarette smoke. At all. It gives me a killer headache, makes my heart rate go up, and makes me feel dizzy and sick. It’s awful. The smell in the casinos was too overbearing for me, so I spent very little time inside. Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? No. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I really don’t want to work retail. And that’s not shade toward retail workers AT ALL. I salute you, honestly. You deal with a lot of shit. What’s the shortest you would ever cut your hair? I had a “bob” for a few years. Do you listen to any deathcore? No. Do you subscribe to any teen magazines? Which ones? No. I’m also 30 years old. Do you know someone who never smiles? Never? No. Has anyone ever made you feel uncomfortable at work? I’ve never had a job. Do you still watch South Park? I never did. I mean, I’ve seen bits here and there before because my brother used to watch it, but I was never into it myself. Tell me one movie you’ve seen recently that sucked: My mom, brother, and I recently watched this movie on Netflix called, The Platform. It had potential and was interesting at first, but the ending was just... no. It seemed abrupt and I was just really confused. Have you ever carved something into a dinner booth somewhere? No. When’s the last time you were carded at a bar? When I last went to the bar, which was almost 10 years ago. Do you smoke little cigars? Have you ever tried them? Nooo. You’re babysitting, what do you expect per hour for pay? Pfft, no I’m not babysitting. What’s the last thing you returned at a store? I very rarely return things so I have no idea. It’s been a long time. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? I don’t even recall the last time I petted a cat. Do you still look at clouds and make shapes of them? I haven’t in a long time. If you had to dye your hair for one year, what color would you pick? I already do, I dye it red. Who’s got your heart? Me. What’s your television addiction? I have several shows that I’m into. Have you ever stringed green beans before? No. What do you do to make yourself more relaxed when you’re nervous? It’s hard to calm myself when I’m anxious, but I try to distract by talking to someone, listening to ASMR, watching TV or something on YouTube, or reading.  Do you cook? If so, what’s the last thing you made? The only thing I cook is ramen. Oh wait actually I made a grilled cheese sandwich the other day. ha.  Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? Yeah, a few things. How do you usually spend your Saturdays? I spend all my days and nights the same, really. Do you make your own jewelry or clothing? Last year I briefly got into making beaded bracelets. I made a few. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? I do the same things everyday whether I’m bored or not: spend time on my social medias, watch YouTube, read, watch TV, scroll through Tumblr, do surveys, just lie there.... ha. Somedays just feel like they’re dragging and going by extra slow and the things I listed above that I like doing just don’t cut it so I just lie there mindlessly watching TV or go to sleep. Do you use drawing to describe what you’re feeling? No. Do you like the smell of new school supplies? As a kid I did. Like getting a new box of crayons. Do you give everything you do 100%? No. I certainly haven’t with life... Do you shop at any independent music stores? No. I don’t shop at any music stores. How do you feel about mainstream music? I like a lot of it.

What song lyrics describe your mood at the moment? *shrug* Do you have healthy eating habits? No. My eating habits are messed up. I have issues with appetite and other issues.

If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be? A dog. Are you superstitious? If so, what are you superstitious about? I do the knock on wood thing, but it’s just out of habit, really. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would it be? There’s so many places I’d like to visit. What food disgusts you the most? I don’t do seafood at all. What is your favorite thing to cook? Ramen. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? I wouldn’t want to get lost anywhere in the dark. :O Are you claustrophobic? Yes. What is your worst flaw? Oh where to start. One thing that always creeps you out? ALL bugs. What is your biggest fear? Losing loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life and just wasting away... If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind? I don’t believe in reincarnation. Ideal way you’d like to die? Obviously painlessly, but jeez. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? I like living with my family. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? Uh, a lot of things. Your favorite kind of dog? I love doggos, but I definitely have a special thing for Labs and German Shepherds. Do you have any scars? If so, how many? I have a lot of scars. I’m not going to count them. What is your favorite scary movie to watch in the dark? I don’t watch them in the dark. Unless I’m at the theater, obviously. I love scary movies, though. Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? Cremated. What is your favorite thing to drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic? Coffee and Starbucks Doubleshot energy drinks. That’s also coffee, but you know what I mean. I don’t have a favorite alcoholic drink, I don’t drink. What is your favorite food around the holidays? I love either ham or turkey depending on the holiday and mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, and rolls. Easiest way to scare you? I’m such a jumpy, easily scarable (it’s a word, shh) person so you could really just say hi and I’ll jump. haha. Like my back faces my bedroom door and if I don’t hear anyone coming in or they just poke their head in to say something I’ll jump. lmao. Tell me one of your biggest secrets? Nah. What was your last nightmare about? It’s been awhile since I’ve had one, thankfully.

[varibean]

figuring out how to fit

chapter 2! read chapter one here or here

Guy hadn’t realized that Sam’s shirt was, well, a shirt until two weeks of living with him. 

They had fallen into a rhythm of sorts after a short time. Guy would wake up first, get the morning chores done, then Sam would be quick to follow to make breakfast. Sometimes he fixed two helpings of green eggs and ham and other times he would make Guy and oatmush drizzled with honey and topped with a strawberry because, while it was true that Guy did like the green dish, sometimes it was just a bit too much of a good thing for him. After eating he’d go off to work, leaving Sam to fill his day with whatever he pleased.

When he came home it was the same checklist as the morning but in reverse. Dinner would be fixed, dishes would be put away, depending on Sam’s earlier activities the apartment would be cleaned as they saw fit, they’d sit down and watch a show, and then the two of them would go to bed with Sam curled up against Guy’s side in a peaceful sleep. 

That rhythm was disrupted slightly one night when the temperature rose so high that even the most air conditioned complexes were slightly damp with heat. It was an unexpected heat spike, with no one in town prepared for the weather and what it would bring. All day at work there had been nothing but air conditioner and ice maker repair for Guy, making him rightfully tired and a good bit sweaty when he returned home.

The heat was so bad that even Sam, ball of energy that he was, was lethargically laying on the couch as Guy stepped through the threshold. 

“Oh I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were so busy. Should I come back later?” Guy said, sarcasm and humor dripping from his voice. 

To his credit, Sam actually managed a drowsy, half hearted raspberry in Guy’s direction before flopping back against the couch once again. 

The night moved slowly as ever. The two lazily made dinner and ate without much of their normal chit chat. Both were too hot and too worn to even bother with the dishes and after an icy shower for Guy followed by a cool bath for Sam, they decided to head off to bed without much of their usual nightly fanfare of cleaning and watching tv. It was fine by Guy, who wanted nothing more than a long night of sleep.

As he was getting himself tucked in however, Sam did something he’d never seen the slight Who do before. Sam reached down to the hem of his shirt, which Guy had always just assumed was part of the pattern of his fur, and lifted it above his head.

“It is definitely waaaaay too hot to sleep in that thing. I’m gonna have to wash it tomorrow just to today’s funky flow off of it.” 

Guy only half paid attention to the words Sam was saying. His eyes were fixed on the other’s form, more accurately, his stomach. The fur on Sam’s chest faded in color as it got closer to his center. The bright and vibrant yellow fading to a calm and mellow shade of itself. It looked softer as well compared to the rest of himself. But the real attention grabber was the star, a light white color that almost faded in with the rest of the yellow, but was just bright enough to be seen, that was placed on his belly.

Without thinking about the words, Guy opened his mouth to state his observation.

“You’re part Sneetch.”

The words were blunt, with a hint of awe at this new fact that he had just learned about his best friend. 

For a second he worried that he had said the wrong thing as he noticed Sam’s face blush a light pink in the fading light of their moonlit room.

“Uh, yeah I guess I am. I mean, I never really bothered to check with one of those Who-N-A test thingies but I sure do have the star!” Sam puffed up his form slightly and positioned his hands in a display like form for his star. 

There was something stiff about his movements though that had nothing to do with the heat. 

“Come on over here.” Guy said. 

Even with the boiling heat Sam still gladly flopped onto Guy as if the Knox was a bed, his back pressed against the chubby comfort of his friend’s body. 

In turn, Guy wrapped his arms around Sam. His fingers went to the soft pattern now on display and was pleased to find that the downy feather like texter was as fluffy as it had seemed from afar. 

“Sam, your mom, was she also a-?”

“No. I mean, not that I could remember. Maybe she was half Sneetch or something but if she was I don’t remember it. I think I must’ve got it from my dad, whoever he might’ve been.” 

Talking about Sam’s parents was always a hard subject. It had gotten easier with time, Sam always making plans to find her and recounting the few and far between stories of what he actually remembered about her to Guy. 

The room was silent for so long that Guy thought for a moment that Sam had managed to drift off to sleep without his knowledge but he could feel the conscious breathing of his friend’s body against his own as they sat there; the kind of breathing that was too precise and even to be accidental. 

“Back at the orphanage,” Sam started again suddenly, “the Sneetch kids would pick on me. The ones without stars said that I wasn’t good enough to play with them. And the ones with stars said that since my star wasn’t green I didn’t belong with them either. After that nobody wanted to play with me because if the Sneetch kids thought you were weird, everyone thought you were weird. So I started wearing a shirt to hide it. Seems pretty stupid to still do it now, I mean, I guess I just got used to it. Hiding it.” 

Every fact Guy learned about Sam’s life before him hurt. How anyone could be so needlessly cruel to him seemed so absurd. But that thought just led to him thinking about his own behavior to Sam before he let him in and that hurt even more. 

“They were nothing but a bunch of yipping stuck up snobs. They wouldn’t know a perfect star if it hit ‘em right in their beaks.” 

With the moon fading behind wisps of clouds Guy couldn’t see Sam’s face, but he could just tell that the other was smiling. 

The heat didn’t seem as unbearable anymore as Sam cuddled further against Guy’s fur. And when Guy finally fell asleep, it was with his hands tightly clasping Sam’s as they rested against the soft fluff of the star on his belly. 

_________

The morning proved to be much more bearable than the night, with the previous temperatures cooling off drastically. It was still slightly unpleasant, but with the right attitude almost unnoticeable. 

When Guy got up and ready that morning he elected to again forgo chores in favor of making breakfast. He wasn’t as good at cooking as Sam was but after a while he found himself becoming halfway decent in the kitchen.

He cracked the eggs, cooked up the ham, and buttered himself oat toast to go right as Sam woke up. He was sad to see that he had his shirt on once again, the golden white star covered up by the sunshine yellow fabric that faded in nicely with the rest of his fur. 

“Well good morning and a rise and shine to you Mister Master Chef! I thought I smelled something utterly delectable cooking.”

Guy rolled his eyes at Sam’s cheery compliments. He didn’t doubt that Sam meant them with all of his heart but he always layered the flattery on thick. 

“It’s just frying up eggs Sam. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to do it.”

“No but being a Master Inventor must help the process. You’ve got the nimble, inventive hands just ready to...do whatever it is that inventors do to make a good breakfast!.” 

A plate was placed in front of Sam as Guy held himself back from rolling his eyes again. Twice in one minute couldn’t be healthy for his eyesight, he mused. 

“Enjoy it because that’s the last of it we have. Gonna have to go grocery shopping here soon. I’ll pick something up for dinner tonight so don’t worry about it.”

“I never do.” Although the words coming out of Sam’s egg loaded mouth sounded more like ‘ah nempher dphf.’ 

It was odd how endeared Guy could be with other while egg yolk and ham gravy was dripping down the side of his face. One of Sam’s many charms was that he was the most charming when he wasn’t even trying. 

So, with that thought lingering in his mind, Guy gathered up his toast and his work tools and before heading out the door, leaned down to kiss the corner of Sam’s mouth.

And with that he left, grinning like a cat who caught the canary.

[ahumanexperiencemoment]

“Sometimes the Road Calls (or It’s A Midlife Crisis)” Part 3 Of 3.

I slept pretty soundly and woke up around nine in the morning. The bed was firm but honestly, I don’t think it would have mattered how soft or firm the bed was… I was so worn out, I probably would have slept soundly on the floor.  After a quick shower, I got dressed and pushed my bike outside and loaded it up. I walked over to turn the keys in where a young lady sat behind the counter. She was 8 months pregnant and was about to pop. She said she had to check the room, so I walked with her and learned more about her. I asked her if it was her first child and she told me that it was going to be her fourth which was surprising to me because she didn’t look old enough to have that many kids. As I get older, I am really getting bad at gauging age. I think that happens to all of us. After she cleared the room, I got my safe deposit money back because since I paid in cash, I had to leave money the night before. I started my bike and rode across the street to a gas station to fill up before I set out on the second day of my adventure.

(Terre Haute, Indiana before I started)

I pulled into the gas station across the street from the motel and one of the pumps didn’t work, so I had to roll around to another one. Frustratingly, the gas came out rather quickly and splashed all over my hand and the fuel tank. I went to grab towels from the dispenser where they kept the windshield wiper squeegee and it was empty, as was the cleaning solution. I went inside to the bathroom, which only had an air blower to dry hands with. Thankfully though, near the drink machines, there was another sink with napkins, so I washed my hands as best as I could, wet down a few napkins and walked back out to clean my fuel tank. I then returned and washed my hands and arm again but I couldn’t seem to get rid of that gas smell… ugh….  A great start to a long day…. I was hoping that wasn’t an omen about the course of the remainder of the day.

I decided to go inside and grab a bottled water and a breakfast bar and I ended up talking to the manager of the store. I told him conversationally that once you get gas on you, it is so tough to get off. He agreed and said it happens to him all the time. The conversation went forward, as some conversations do, and he asked about my trip and where I was heading. We talked for a bit longer and I learned he had been a manager for several plus years and he commiserated on a tough life of working at that location, dealing with ungrateful and entitled people. He shared a couple of stories and finally, I had to back out of the conversation by being polite but telling him that I had to get going, because I had many miles to go that day. He understood but to be honest, he looked rather sad standing behind that counter. An older gentleman with a droopy mustache and eyes behind dusty glasses.  Sometimes, we make choices in life and we don’t know the full ramifications of those choices until many years later. And sometimes, we don’t like those choices. I got that feeling listening to him that day. As I got on my bike and started away, I waved at the guy through the window and he waved back.

Now, I was on the road again. I was having trouble with my duffle bag because it kept on wanting to tilt and lean to one side. No matter what I did to cinch it down, it just didn’t want to work. So, I ended up riding for a little bit, stopping, readjusting and then continuing on. It wasn’t long before my hand started cramping up and hurting again but thankfully, there was a lot of straight shots and small towns to get through.

A couple hours later I rolled through Vincennes and onto Princeton, Indiana where I turned right and headed into Illinois. First stop was rolling through Mount Carmel. I am glad that I came this way. Twenty years ago, when I was a young marine, I came this way in the dead of the night. I just finished my Military Occupational Specialty (MOS) school and I had the option to drive all the way home to the panhandle of Florida from Maryland, which would have taken sixteen plus hours, or I could drive to Southern Illinois where I have a ton of extended family and it would only have been eleven or so hours. This would have been around 1998 and that was the first time I drove through Mount Carmel and Carmi, Illinois. So, it was interesting to me to drive that same route twenty years later. Of course, I didn’t recognize it, as it was in the middle of the night and so many years ago the first time. But for whatever reason, those two town names have stuck in my mind ever since then.

(Mount Carmel, Illinois)

I stopped off and gassed up again in Mount Carmel, Illinois. I spoke with a gentleman while filling up and we talked about the motorcycle.  After I gassed up, I pulled over to a parking area in the shade of the store and decided to take an extended break. I walked into the store to use the restroom and grab something to eat and drink. I should have found a place to sit and eat but for some reason, when I am on the road, I go into this “travel mode” where I just go…I don’t get hungry, I don’t get thirsty, I just fall into this zombie like mode to just get to the next stop. Once I stop though, I am reminded like a distant thought crossing the void, “hey, you might be hungry” and then before I know it, it grows to the point of awareness.   Besides the slight pang of hunger, I was also getting dehydrated.  Although I drank water throughout the day before, it wasn’t near enough and I didn’t put on any sunscreen that first day and surprisingly, you can still get a pretty good sunburn, even in the latter part of the day. I looked for something good to eat but there didn’t seem to be much in the way of options, so I decided to get a Lunchable.  I actually like Lunchables - crackers, cheese, and ham or turkey with a cold Capri sun and a Reese’s Peanut Butter. I also bought a Gatorade. I walked up the counter and the nice young lady and I exchanged pleasantries as she got me my change. I walked back out and plopped right down next to the bike on the curb. I sucked that Capri sun down and then slowly ate the rest of the tray. I was just enjoying the moment, watching the cars drive by. It wasn’t long before I was done. Lunchables aren’t that big so I threw the package away and guzzled down half the Gatorade. Since I was dehydrated, I could feel the headache coming, which wouldn’t be good because with the hard tail, feeling every bump in the road would not be a good thing to experience.   After I was done with the Gatorade, I threw away my trash, stretched and got back on the bike.    

(Where I sat in the shade eating lunch)

A few miles later, I was having issues with my duffel bag again and was getting frustrated… Well, I was always frustrated, I was getting past frustrated. Finally, I just pulled off in a little town named Cowling, Illinois. I pulled into the parking lot of a little country church and tried to re-cinch my gear down.  During the process of adjustment, one of the straps just broke and I finally decided to just wear it like a back pack, which worked out surprisingly well.  Why hadn’t I done it earlier? Oh well, lesson learned.

I got back on the road and headed into Carmi, Illinois which was a bustling town. Like I wrote earlier, the last time I came through was twenty years ago, so I didn’t recognize anything, and the size of the town surprised me. There was road work near where the train tracks crossed the road I was traveling, but thankfully, it didn’t hold me up for very long. There were two very bored-looking guys holding a “Stop” and “Slow” sign, due to there only being one lane open. When I left Carmi, the weather was cloudy but still sunny. It wasn’t long before I saw a storm looming in the distance. That’s one thing about the Midwest and southern Illinois in the summer - storms pop up lightning fast (no pun intended). I thought and hoped that I could make it to my destination before the storm and I crossed paths, but before long it started sprinkling sporadically and I then decided that I would pull off to put on my rain gear in the next town, which happened to be Norris, Illinois.  It’s funny but I made it all day the day before and I was less than an hour away from my destination so naturally, rain would come. I write that in jest, but it did seem Murphy’s law dictated that I couldn’t have a trip without a little rain. But to be honest, we all need a little rain from time to time in life. It helps us to appreciate those times we do have it good. I suited up in the rain gear and continued on.  

(Norris, Illinois where I pulled over to suit up in rain gear)

Finally, I made it to Eldorado Illinois, and thankfully I had the forethought to put on the rain gear because the bottom dropped out and I was riding in the rain. Kind of like those bugs I mentioned earlier… the rain hurts just as bad. But, since I had on the jacket, the pelting wasn’t too bad, however, it was hard to see with my glasses getting wet.  It was slow-going because I just didn’t trust the roadway with it being wet, so I slowed down even more. Cars passed me by, which slung more water on me. It went on this way for quite a while until I hit Harrisburg Illinois. When I hit the outskirts, the rain stopped, and the sun made its appearance again. I rode past many stores and many places in Harrisburg that I had grown up shopping at, during the years when I was visiting every summer. Over here was where the local video rental store was, over there was the new Walmart, which was down the road from where the old Walmart was. There is where my aunt still gets milk that comes in glass bottles. And here, the Dairy Queen…You get the idea. I continued on.  About six miles outside, between Harrisburg and Stonefort is the little town of Carrier Mills.

I decided to stop off in Carrier Mills to gas up again before traveling a few more miles to my destination. I didn’t know what the next day would bring so I figured it was best to fill the gas tank. As I was gassing up, I met and talked with an older gentleman who asked me about my bike and who I was visiting. It turned out that he knew my aunt and uncle – they had grown up together. Small world. The more you travel, the smaller it gets. Since I was coming to the end of my trip, I was eager to get to it so I hopped back on the bike and continued on.

After leaving Carrier Mills, it was just a few miles before I finally made it to the last town and destination of my trip, Stonefort, Illinois. I turned on the road that went past the small country church I attended every summer with my aunt. I have many fond memories there. It looks like it has grown quite a bit since the time I went, but I will never forget the people I knew there when I was a kid. I also passed by the trailer where my cousin’s grandmother lived.  It’s always weird to see people live in a place that you either lived at or spent a lot of time at previously.  You wonder how they decorated it, and does it look or smell the same inside…just general thoughts like these.  I don’t know who lives in that trailer now, nor did I see them when I drove past, but they keep the place up pretty well. My aunt lives about a mile outside of town and it didn’t take long before I arrived at her house. They weren’t home, but they left the door open for me, so I went inside. I was so exhausted and before long, the storm opened up again. I sat on the couch and with the rain hammering on the roof and thunder rolling in the distance and across the sky, I slept… and slept hard.

(My destination out side Stonefort, Illinois)

It was a great adventure and my body was sore, but I loved every minute of it. In retrospect, I am so glad that my wife met me with the truck. I thought about that a lot during those two days of riding, especially when my hand hurt the worst. If I had to drive the entire way from Southern Illinois to New Orleans on the bike, I just don’t think I would have made it… or it would have taken me a lot longer than I wanted it to.  Who knows though…maybe in the future, I will attempt it, but I am glad that for whatever reason, it didn’t work out this time. I got my little adventure, and my mom, and my wife got to come up and enjoy time with family for the family reunion. All in all, it was a great trip.

From start to finish, I traveled almost 400 miles. I saw places and met people in passing I never had the chance of seeing before and sadly, will probably never see again. This trip really struck home how fast we all are in our endeavors to get somewhere. There were a couple times when I was out there all alone and saw those big nice Harleys or Honda Goldwings pass me like I was standing still, but they didn’t get to see the landscape like I did. Being forced to go slow, I really had time to take it all in. From the kids playing down the side street in a town I passed through, to well-kept and not so well-kept yards, to the roadside flower beds, I was able to see it all. I think life can be like that too. People are zipping here and there, and, in our haste, we miss so much. I think life would be better for us all if we just learned or forced ourselves to slow down.  I know…it’s easier said than done. We all have different motivations for what we do. I think deep down, we all want to leave behind a legacy of some sort, but most of us don’t know why or how. One thing is for sure…we are in pursuit of it.

[sweetness47]

Ghosts of Memories

 Pairing Clint Barton x reader

A/N: this is for #MAMTWritingchallenge hosted by @marvelatmytrash (I haven’t decided whether or not to make it a series yet. I will see where this one goes.) feedback is always welcome, as is reblogging.

“You have no idea who I am do you?” paired with calming someone down after a nightmare.

Warnings: Fluff, maybe, language, violence, memory loss, lost love, nightmares, trauma…basically if you’re under 18, don’t read this!

Summary: You are a SHIELD agent, one of the top elite. Not only do you kick ass with weapons and without, you can also control elements ie. Earth, fire, wind, water, electrical current and light. You can’t remember anything past 6 years ago, due to a terrible accident, or so you’ve been told. Doctors say your memories may never come back. So what happens when they do start to return?

Six years ago:

“I’m just going to the store to get eggs and milk, then pick up a deluxe pizza on my way home.” Y/N shouted down the basement stairs to her hubby. Clint peeked around the corner and looked up at her with his best puppy dog eyes. She caved and sighed. “Alright, ham and pineapple, and a 6-pack of Bud Light, but only because I love you and because it’s your birthday.”

Clint ran up the stairs and wrapped Y/N in his arms, and giving her a short, intimate kiss, promising some fun later. She threw her arms around his neck, moaning into his kiss. “Thanks honey. You are really the best, you know that? You kick ass, save the world, and you’re mine.” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled, “Of course I know Clint, and I’m lucky to have you too.” She said, winking at him and kissing him on the nose. “Who else could I get to fix the toilet, help me save the world, and kill all the spiders for me. You’re indispensable.” Y/N giggled as Clint reached for her sides, especially that ticklish spot by her ribcage. She squealed and tried to tickle him back, but he backed her against the wall. “Ok, ok. I give.” He was laughing as hard as she was as they kissed then, both breathless and both exceedingly happy.

As she got in the car, she remembered his reaction that morning as she presented his birthday present, neatly wrapped with an iridescent bow and matching ribbon. As he opened it, and realization set in, a huge grin appeared on his face, and in an instant he was swinging her around, showering her with hugs and kisses, the framed ultrasound picture still in his hand. She was about ten weeks according to the tests, and everything looked exactly the way it should, no abnormalities. It was too soon to know the gender, but she didn’t care. They were pregnant.

She listened to radio as she drove, weather reports and warnings were filling every station she tuned in to. Then she hit a winter onslaught. The sky darkened, and in the blink of an eye a torrential downpour of ice and snow suddenly clouded her vision. As she tried to use her power to lessen the storm’s intensity, another car lost traction on the icy street, and rammed into Y/N’s SUV. The force of the impact caused her car to break through the barrier of the bridge, and plummet head first into the frigid waters below. Blackness and water were everywhere, Y/N tried to move the water and get the car out, but there was too much ice. Instead of moving the car out, the ice pushed it down to the bottom. Her cracked windshield began leaking, the cold beginning to seep in, and without any access to wind, she couldn’t get out.

Desperate to free herself from her seemingly inescapable prison, she used light to melt what remained of the window, bracing herself for the onslaught of arctic liquid that would come at her. It wasn’t enough, the pressure slammed into her, knocking breath from her lungs, not letting her get air before enveloping her. Y/N tried to focus as she swam out the window toward the surface. Finding a small opening still in the layer of ice that covered the river, she came up for air, trying to grab the top of the ice. She could hear people yelling, but was too cold to say anything. Then before she could make the water warmer and get herself to shore, she was pulled under by the current, her head striking the jagged edge of the ice, and her world went black.

Present day:

Y/N stared at the transfer notice in her hand. Why on earth, especially since she really liked her current posting in Ireland, would she all of a sudden need to go to New York. Fuck this shit. Her head began to pound, and she absently grabbed a bottle from her pocket, popped two white T-3’s and went back to cleaning out her room. There was some small part of her that wishes she was normal, with a normal job, maybe a normal family. But noooo, she was a government assassin, and an inhuman, which made her a valuable commodity, and apparently needed in New York. She looked out her window, thinking how much she was going to miss all the lush green countryside and the peaceful walks amongst that greenery.

New York, where the aliens had attacked some time before, and the Avengers initiative was enacted. She knew who Nick Fury was, especially since he was the first person she had seen when she’d awoken from her coma. They had met on numerous occasions since, and each time he had attempted to recruit her to help with the Avengers. But she had declined each time, not wanting to leave Europe. She wasn’t European by birth, but she’d grown to love it here since being re-assigned after her accident, the one where she lost a lot of her life, her memories gone, locked away in the deep recesses of her mind. Doctors said the memories could come back at some point, or they may never return. What was worse, SHIELD files had been erased of her life before. It was almost as if they were hiding something from her, either for mental health reasons, or simply because they liked her better now. And no one ‘knew’ anything, or so they said, even Fury, stating that maybe she shouldn’t keep digging. She had tried social media, phone records, DMV records, anything, and they all came up blank. It was as if she’d never existed before, and it nagged at her conscience.

She was soon packed and on board the small plane that would take her across the ocean. Agent Phil Coulson met her at the airstrip when she landed, to escort her to their base. “Welcome here Y/N.” He extended his hand and she took it happily. Phil was something of a legend amongst the elite agents, having been the force behind putting together the A-team as she liked to call them. And truth be told, she was anxious to meet them, having been a fan for a while now. Natasha Romanova was kind of a role model, even though the age difference was only 2 years, she was everything Y/N aspired to be. There were times she imagined sparing with Widow, just to see who could best who first, though she suspected for as good as she was, Natasha was better, having trained from a young age.

When they finally arrived at the ‘secret’ base, she was shown to her quarters, where she set to work unpacking and changing out of her travel clothes. Making sure her identification was properly displayed, she took herself on a self-guided tour of the facility. It was actually pretty nice digs, and pretty big, much bigger than the Irish base. Not watching in front of her, because she was busy looking around, she walked into a brick wall, which actually wasn’t a wall at all. Thor had been walking back from the cafeteria with some java for the road, when Y/N bumped into him, causing hot liquid to erupt from the cup, and spill all over both parties.

Y/N immediately apologized. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt? Let me help.” And bent down to retrieve pieces of broken pottery that was the cup.

Thor smiled warmly. “No harm done. There is always more coffee to be had. Are you new here?” he asked, seeing your name badge.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. “That obvious huh. Yeah, just transferred in from Ireland. I’m Y/N. You must be Thor.” She stated casually, gesturing at his armor and cape, and of course that infamous hammer. Mjolnir was the most fascinating weapon she’d ever seen. Y/N pointed to the beautiful but deadly item in his hand. “I know I can’t pick it up, but can I…well…touch it? Sorry, that sounded weird. It’s just a really awesome hammer.” She blushed more, realizing how stupid that sounded.

Thor chuckled. “Not at all my lady. By all means, feel free to gaze upon the power of the mighty Mjolnir. However I must warn you, it does tend to shock those who touch it, except me of course.”

Y/N raised a brow, now completely thrilled. She reached out her hand and ran it across the Asgardian symbols and craftmanship, and did indeed get a shock. But rather than sting, it seemed to blend into her skin and ignite her own power. Soon her body and Mjolnir were sharing electrical current, the hammer increasing the strength of Y/N’s energy output. Thor watched the interaction, completely taken aback with what was transpiring in front of him. Never in his lifetime had anyone been able to create that kind of power with his hammer except for himself. Now his curiosity was peaked, and he offered Y/N the weapon to hold. Frowning but not unwilling to try, she accepted the gift, and both were genuinely shocked when the hammer allowed her to hold it.

Some of the nearby agents had stopped to witness this event, including Fury and Coulson, and a wide range of expressions filled their faces, from shock, to amazement, to genuine wow. Y/N handed the hammer back to Thor when she saw the attention she had attracted. Excusing herself, she made her way over to Nick Fury and extended her hand. “Sir, good to see you again.” You said with respect, and perhaps a touch of affection. Fury was like the older brother, always protecting her and covering her ass when she dug into files she shouldn’t.

Fury accepted the gesture and returned the handshake. “Y/N. Haven’t changed a bit I see. Still manage to find new and interesting ways to make yourself known.”

Y/N smiled. “Yes sir! Now, on with the tour!” She gave a mock salute, earning a smirk from Coulson and a glare from Fury. He didn’t scold her, but she did make herself scarce, as the tour wasn’t quite done yet anyways.

She had been briefed on the plane with regards to the nature of her re-assignment. Power, they needed whatever they could get, and Y/N’s power was amongst the best in the entire SHIELD world. Talks of aliens and impending doom were everywhere. But the agency seemed especially worried. Whatever. Steady paychecks helped with the negotiations, landing herself a nice raise and bonus incentive. She could only hope that her ‘headaches’ and ‘nightmares’ didn’t interfere with her work. It wasn’t bad now, not like it was when she’d first awaken, but it still happened on occasion. It was like a never-ending cycle of torment, flashes of near death, a storm, drowning. But she could never move past those images. She would wake in cold sweats, shaking, screaming, only to realize she was alone and in no present danger. Only once did the flashbacks happen during a mission, luckily it was Fury and Hill that accompanied her for it, and neither were hurt in the process.

Fury did advise her to see a counsellor after, and she did. But the talks, while they did help some, were only that, talk. Nothing could be done to bring back the rest of the memories. It was just plain annoying sometimes. And times like this, when she was this pissed, were the times where she found exercise to be a good stress reliever. So she made her way around the base until she came across the training room, where she found Nat taking on Steve Rogers. Amused, she stood by the door and watched. Where Steve was fast and strong, Widow was small and agile, both were quick and equally deadly in their own right. Just as Y/N sat down, Steve caught movement out of the corner of his eye and Nat flipped him, taking him out for the count.

Steve got up as you walked over to apologize. “I’m sorry. I distracted you. Good match though.” You remarked.

Nat came over to join. “It wasn’t bad. Don’t apologize though. Distraction can’t be used as an excuse.” Then she looked over at Y/N. “Do you want to go a round?” she asked quizzically.

You raised a brow. “Sure. I’m Y/N. I just transferred in from Ireland.” You shook hands with Steve and with Nat.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” Nat smiled. “Do you need to change?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

Nat motioned Y/N over to the mat. A few people stopped to watch, including Steve. Y/N put her hands up. “I won’t use my abilities. This will just be hand to hand.” She promised.

It was Nat’s turn to be surprised. “Abilities? You’re inhuman?” Y/N nodded. “That’s where I heard your name from.” She shrugged. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Nat took her fight stance, as did Y/N. For what seemed like an eternity neither moved, studying the other, watching like a lion stalking prey. Then Nat lunged, her body diving to sweep Y/N’s feet from under her. But she dodged, anticipating Widow’s tactics, and made a beeline for her arm to disable her. She countered, throwing a kick at Y/N’s arm, which was deflected, and coming around with a backhand to attack. Ducking, Y/N landed a small punch in her midsection. Nat quickly brought her knee up, catching Y/N’s chin, causing her to bite her lip. Y/N recovered quick, bringing her leg sweeping low in a circle, and connected with Nat’s ankle. She fell back, but was back on her feet quickly.

Back and forth they went, minutes ticking by, people beginning to cheer and wager on who would actually win. Without using her power, she was pretty evenly matched with her idol. For a while it seemed as though no one would ever win. Then someone else stopped to watch the fight. Someone who went white upon seeing who his friend was fighting. He pushed through the crowds to get a front row seat, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Y/N?” he whispered.

Y/N looked up at the mention of her name, and Nat got the upper hand, setting Y/N up and taking her down with that head-scissor lock flip. Gasping for air, Y/N looked for the owner of the voice that had cost her the match. Then leaning over her, offering a hand up, was a handsome, blue-eyed man that looked like he’d seen a ghost. Only he was staring at her, not a ghost. He kept her hand in his, almost afraid to let go.

Y/N tried to remove her hand, but he held firm, as if she would disappear if he let go. “Y/N. What the hell? I…it’s been 6 years. Where have you been? Why didn’t you come back if you weren’t dead? I don’t understand…” his voice trailed off as he studied Y/N’s confused look. Realization dawned on him then, and he let her hand go. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Y/N bit her lip, taking a step back as she shook her head. “No, sorry. Ummm…” Her head began jackhammering in her skull, and she ran, needing to get away from him, from everyone, just needing to be alone.

It was Nick who came knocking on her door. She let him in, only because she knew he wouldn’t go away. He motioned to sit, and Y/N nodded. The flashbacks began adding images, of a man with light brown hair, blue eyes. Holding her, making love to her, kissing her. Not even the T3’s were helping now. With tears streaming down her face, she looked into the eyes of the man she had learned to trust, the man who she was pretty sure had been partially lying to her all these years.

“I want the truth Nick, and I want it now.” Y/N wiped away a tear and glared at the man in front of her. “Who in the hell is that man and why did he act like he knew me?”

Nick sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a USB and threw it on the bed beside her. She looked at it, then back at Nick. Anger slowly seeped through her usually calm façade, and he held his hands up as a peace offering. “These are the files you’ve been searching for all these years. Your life before the accident, your original posting, and everything else you tried to find. That man in the gym, Agent Barton, was your husband of 5 years, and your childhood friend, your high school sweetheart, and your first love. The day of your accident, it was his birthday. Your gift to him was an ultrasound picture of the 10-week-old fetus you carried. A violent storm swept into the area when you were driving to the store, your car was run off the road and into the icy river. You nearly drown. You went into a hyperthermia-induced coma. Your abilities are quite powerful, but ice doesn’t like you. You couldn’t save yourself fast enough. You lost the baby. The memory loss was from a concussion suffered when your head found the edge of a sharp jagged ice chunk. You know the rest of this past 6 years. Everything else is on there.” He gestured to the piece of tech, and got up to leave.

Y/N just stared at the wall, barely acknowledging Nick’s exit. For two hours she just sat there, trying to process everything she’d just heard. Her skull felt like a basketball pounding on pavement. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as the world started spinning. Her body hit the mattress, feeling like lead. Her mind flashed images, dark water, sleet, ice, cold water rushing at her, the current pulling her under the ice, her chest hurting from lack of oxygen, panic. She tried to scream but the water muffled the sound. She flailed, clawing at the ice, needing the air, needing to live. Suddenly arms were holding her, shaking her, a warm male voice was calling her name.

Clint had been walking slowly toward her room, trying to figure out how to talk to her. Then her screams broke through his thoughts and he tore down the hallway, opening her door in less than 3 seconds. She was choking, her breath ragged, like she couldn’t get any air. She was panicking. She was having a nightmare. He sat on the bed and gathered her into his arms, and held her, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words.

She opened her eyes to the man who was a stranger to her, but not a stranger. She nestled into his embrace and cried.

@legion1993 @marvelatmytrash

[bsghsnfh]

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[tardispowered]

Book Review: The Day She Saved the Doctor

Summary

Spoiler Warning: If you don’t like spoilers, don’t read. (That being said, it’s basically a one star read) 

So, I had an issue with this book as soon as I saw the title. “The Day She Saved the Doctor”. A lot of this has to do with my near contempt for the majority of the back half of Moffat era Who. It’s not that they’re progressive because I am all for that- but there’s this big act like being progressive in Who is this NEW THING BOUGHT TO YOU TODAY BY MOFFAT! NEVER BEEN SEEN BEFORE!

And… it has.

I mean, yes, Classic Who has its problems. It’s as much of its time as anything. However, DW has always been progressive and that includes Her Saving Him all the freaking time! How many times have Sarah Jane and/or Leela saved four’s ass? Even in Nu!Who, 9 wouldn’t be alive if Rose hadn’t pulled his ass out of the fire more often than not. There are instances of her saving him throughout the series so this is not new and to act like it is feels like an insult.

Still, I support women writers of Doctor Who because we need more of them. It’s still very much a boy’s arena. And the fact that I have contention with these stories is partly the writers but also partly the editor who decided these were good enough. Because they aren’t. They really aren’t. And it makes this book seem like a gimmick to shine the spotlight once more on HOW GREAT WHO IS NOW SEE WHAT HE HAS GIVEN US WE SHOULD BE GRATEFUL

Well I’m not—because this is bullshit.

Ok, to be fair it caps off at about 90% bullshit with 10% being decent to pretty good. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?

Sarah Jane and the Temple of Eyes – Jaqueline Rayner

Props where props are due, I started out really enjoying this one. Sarah Jane and Four were both well characterized and it made me laugh out loud in several parts. Some bits made me side-eye a little, such as Sarah getting jitters over the mention of Blindman’s Bluff… but as she’d been blinded and fairly recently I imagine, given the weight of it in the story, I went along with it. There were a few Moffat Era (from here on out abbreviated to ME) bits that me sigh but otherwise, yes fine.

And thennn Sarah Jane gets kidnapped. Which okay fine sure.

And four gets kidnapped trying to rescue Sarah okay sure

The antagonist wanted memories, Sarah offered to give them memories of hers, the antagonist declined saying  they didn’t need them, Sarah said the antagonist wouldn’t have memories like hers. Now, this is set in Ancient Rome so I was thinking, right, makes sense, modern girl and all

But no. Because SJ has memories of the DOCTOR and the DOCTOR is the BEST THING TO EVER EXIST and she would HATE TO LIVE WITHOUT HIM

And this is the one ME thing that consistently bugs the shit out of me. This CULT OF THE DOCTOR where everyone falls at their feet salivating in love or fear at his very presence. He is even called a God in this narrative to fit the lonely God title that 12 gets. And I hate that. He’s not a God. He’s not a hero. He’s a guy who likes running around the universe and not being told what to do.  And he does help and save the day and that’s what makes him a good person.

But no he has to be THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER AND LET US ALL WORSHIP HIM BECAUSE HE IS GOOD AND RIGHT and so on

Moreover, I am assuming this book is bent toward one of a more feminist ideology, and I have no problems with that.

Only it’s hard to believe that when Sarah Jane has a line like: Oh the Doctor is talking down to me but he’s 700+ so it’s alright.

Also I hated that the Doctor, the fourth Doctor of all of them, said out loud that Sarah Jane is awesome and so good and he trusts her and so on and so on. Because nothing says subtlety like a ham handed asspat right? And ooc for four too.  

But one thing that really bugged me near the end was the Doctor saying: “After all, if we can’t trust a bunch of women with the secrets of the universe, who can we trust?” And not even tongue in cheek. I imagine it’s supposed to be feminist or something but iit’s really not because HEY GUESS WHAT Women can be evil too and use that knowledge against others. And in fact the main antagonist ALREADY HAD but she was a scheming woman who wanted power and not like these who… are apparently better or something. I don’t even know.

It also felt really patronizing to women of ancient Rome who were, apparently, so shackled by the patriarchy that they couldn’t do anything else but be Oppressed. And, granted, it probably wasn’t great being a woman in Ancient Rome compared to modern day, but it showed nothing of their strengths and what they did have. What they could do. It was all: Poor Women Oppressed Doing Terrible Things.

It also didn’t help that Ancient Rome was just a set dressing. Like I’m not asking for a historical epic but it was just presented so slap dash and very little effort was put into making it seem like a real historical place.

Finally, Sarah Jane read a bit young to me. She generally has more confidence then that. (BUT IF SHE HAD THAT CONFIDENCE FROM THE BEGINNING, HOW CAN THE DOCTOR INSPIRE HER? /gag) Though it feels to me (and I could be wrong) that she just wasn’t used to writing Sarah Jane.

 Two out of five stars

 Rose and the Snow Window – Jenny T. Colgan

This is the only good story of the lot. The author’s bio says that Colgan writes for Big Finish and done 10th Doctor stories so it makes sense. It’s nicely paced, nicely plotted (more or less) and it’s clear she knows what she’s doing. Though I will say as a bit of an aficionado of 9, the writing in the story does tend to shade more to 10 at times, so the characterization, for me, isn’t as on point as I’d like it. Also there were some weird lines that made me go: bzuh? Overall though, it was entertaining, and Rose was well written and Nikolai was adorable (if not fleshed out terribly well). The ending was a bit more rushed than not but I actively liked reading it. Enough so I’d give the book overall one star rather than just a half.

Because, most importantly, Rose actually actively saved 9’s ass. So well done there

Three out of five stars.

 Clara and the Maze of Cui Palta- Susan Calman

Calman’s bio mentions no previous involvement in Doctor Who and, yeah, I can kinda tell. I mean, far be it from me to say someone has to have official endorsement to be a good writer for Who (If that were the case I would be able to watch S10 without frothing at the mouth. Not to mention the awesome fanfiction writers out here) but it’s sort of clear she doesn’t work with these characters often.

You could tell that she at least got the gist of eleven and knew what he was supposed to be like but in reality he was really skewed.  But not as bad as Clara. Hooh boy. Clara was not done well. The basics seem to be okay but she’s entirely too giddy in a girlish kind of way (which isn’t really suit her at all.) Laughing and clapping hands and things of that nature. And then I feel like far too paranoid being lost in the maze.

Because that’s all the story is. Them lost in  maze. Granted there’s a skeleton suggesting they should probably leave sooner than later, but nothing chases them. There’s no real danger but them being lost. In a maze. It was kind of a boring read to be honest.

And then it ends with another ASSPAT FOR FEMINISM with 11 saying:

‘Clara, I was wrong to have not listened to you sooner. It was the maze, doing funny things to my judgement…. But I do trust you, I hope you know that’

Because if you don’t have it down in Writing that the Doctor loves and respects Clara and knew he did wrong then it’s just not enough. Gotta hammer it in there. Also it undercuts itself by him apologizing then blaming the maze. If it really was the maze, then he’s got nothing to apologize for. If it wasn’t, then don’t bring it up.

Anyway, she sort of saved the Doctor in this one. Kind of. But she mostly saved herself. I mean, yes, they could have been wandering around that maze for a very long time but she would have died of natural causes long long long looooonng before he would’ve.

So, go team, I guess. /shrug

One out of five stars.

 Bill Potts and the Jackets-Dorothy Koomson

To start out, I have to admit that while I love the idea of Bill Potts and Pearl Mackie knocks the acting out of the water—I don’t think S10 gave her much character to work with. Oh she had some but to put it simply, S10 was mostly concerned with Missy and PROGRESSION POINTS. (and I am 1000% for a black gay woman as a companion, but hey give her something to do beside saying she’s gay in every episode and then have her wait ten years being slowly turned into a cyberman before ‘fridging’ her in the end to fuel 12 angst. Yes, she want off with Heather. But she’d only known Heather for maybe MAYBE a handful of hours.)

Still despite my extreme dislike for S10 I am always willing to give new writers a chance.

But unfortunately in this story it was clear that the writer had no idea what they were doing and it showed. MAN did it show. Bill was portrayed alright given the circumstances of her characterization (or lack thereof) but 12 was so badly done it’s not even funny. Forget the 12th regeneration, he’s not even the Doctor.

For example

Upon confronted with someone who claims to be Bill (who is the real one) when he already has a Bill in the TARDiS (and nothing otherwise wacky or dangerous is going on) he flat out refuses to consider any possibility but that it’s not Bill and tells them to go home. There’s no investigation. No nothing.

I mean it COULD BE that I missed something in reading (because I was annoyed so I did skim) that fake!Bill was using memory alteration on him or something but if she was it doesn’t stand out.

But even if that’s true, 12 is just acting like an asshole through most of this. Moreso than he even did in S8. It’s like that’s the only version that the author knows and they ran with it. But it’s not 12 and certainly not s10 12 who had learned a lot through Clara. (and retains it despite not remembering her)

Like he is severely mad at antagonist and agrees to help her but tells her to, to paraphrase: Get in the TARDiS now before he changes his mind.

Which fine, if she had been someone murderous or had tortured people or whatever. But there is clear indication at that point in the story (and the narrative supports the idea) that she was going to give Bill herself back but she didn’t trust the Doctor to help her. She didn’t hurt anyone. She just wants to get home. Even grumpy 12 would be more compassionate than that because guess what? Compassion is the Doctor’s default.

Also the real kick in the teeth is that Bill didn’t even save him. There was nothing to save him from. She more or less saved herself which is all well and good but when the title and idea of the entire book is: ‘When She Saved the Doctor’, you’d expect her to do a little saving.

It didn’t help either that the story was poorly constructed to and overall just an aggravating read.

No stars for this one. I’d be tempted to give it negative stars but rather blame the author, I’d rather blame the editor who thought this one was ok.

Because it’s not.

It reallllly fricking isn’t.

  SO YEAH I wouldn’t recommend this book at all. It has a decent 9/Rose story where Rose is cute as hell but beyond that, it doesn’t even live up to its own hype. It’s sad too because it could have been so much more.

[terraclae]

The Twilight

The Paramo Court residents deal with the finiteness of things in their own ways. Epoch is only briefly in draconic form but then immediately shifts before he hits the deck. 

Lore pings: @yuushanoah-fr @cityofinoue

‘Well, this is the last time we'll be opening this baby today.’ Atlas pat the door which resonated with a satisfying hollow sound. It was currently in the process of moving open with a hefty noise to only allow passage for one person at a time. ‘Well, plenty of fresh air to get tomorrow.’

‘Not in a good sense.’ Arodan grumbled behind him. He followed him out and had to shield his eyes against the sunlight that streamed in from the outside, immediately pelted by salty sea air. ‘How am I ready for this?’

‘In a sense, none of us are buddy.’ Atlas took Arodan’s wrist to pull him along so he wouldn't get accidentally get wedged between the door and wall. I've seen my fair share of battles and wars but it always is terrifying when a new one rears it's head.’

‘Are you scared?’ Arodan asked. He leapt over to the edge of the balcony and took in the salted air and allowed it to settle in his lungs.

‘Of course I'm scared!’ Atlas stood besides him and nudged him with his shoulder. ‘But I can't let it freeze me. You know, otherwise things like this happen.’ He pointed jovially at his chipped ear which looked a little red from the treatment still. The doctor had deemed it to be not too serious beyond part of his ear was chipped.

‘Yeah, right.’ Arodan himself was dead terrified and filled with a dread that made him want to stop breathing sometimes. Guilt wracked him above all for making one grave mistake regarding another already. ‘Atlas?’

‘Yes?’

He gave pause to his question, then dared to ask. ‘If I die, there's unsent letters in my desk in the library. I need them delivered and let the people I care about know I'm no more.’ He folded his hands in front of him and turned his gaze away from Atlas. ‘And there's a picture of me too in my desk and I kept it mostly because Mimir, a friend of mine, made it. If you maybe… Want to remember me, then you can have it.’

Hey now-’

‘I'm not saying I will die.’ Arodan interrupted Atlas. ‘But I'm saying it's a possibility.’

Atlas’ ears dropped in a fashion very unlike him, and it was visible in his eyes and furrowed brow that he didn't understand why Arodan would ask him specifically. He responded physically however by closing his hand around Arodan’s. ‘Of course. But let's try not to die, will we? For all I know I'll bite the dust tomorrow and I can't deliver your letters.’

‘That's not a very comforting thought either.’ Arodan pulled his hand away and opted for looking the other way. ‘I want you to stay alive. People would miss you.’

‘Well, did you think I wouldn't miss you if you left or died?’ He nudged Arodan once more and this time Arodan physically flinched. This stopped Atlas from trying a second time. ‘It's been short and eventful for you, I know, but we're happy you're here, we really are.’ He fidgeted with his hands instead. ‘And uh, sorry, I can see you don't want to be touched right now, so sorry I tried to.’

‘It's not as much the touch, or the contact.’ Arodan responded, Atlas’ apology striking a guilty nerve even harsher now. ‘Well, no, that's it. Some days are fine, today's just not… I'm happy to be around you and the others too, yet it feels so unfamiliar.’ He this time very carefully sought Atlas’ hand and he felt he was allowing him to take it on Arodan’s own terms. ‘It feels wrong.’

‘You know, you never went into detail what happened to you on that ship.’ Atlas looked intently at Arodan's hand and didn't dare move yet. ‘You don't have to tell me, but I do want to understand you.’

‘Well, it's sort of… Sort of stupid.’ Arodan glanced to the side, then back to his hand in Atlas’s and he put his other over the hand. ‘I set out because I've wanted to see the world for as long as I remember, and traveling on the Big Ham seemed like the most ideal way to do this.’ He didn't look up yet and decided for this occasion maybe it'd be better if he didn't. ‘On this boat, I met this peculiar man, Altair. He was a preacher, and well, as the journey went on I got to know him in ways I didn't want to. He was so nice, he was forward initially.’

‘I see, and this guy, you…?’

‘I… I maybe- Perhaps I was infatuated with him, at some point.’ Arodan withdrew one of his hands to rub his face in apparent shame and agony. ‘Too much to see what he was doing to me. The one time I didn't obey him, it was to see a doctor because I was growing so terribly sick I thought I was dying.’ He unburied his face from his hands and took a deep shaky breath. ‘That night, I remember he approached me privately and as soon as no one was around, that he dropped his cheery facade, hit me over the head with a book and I'm pretty certain that he broke nearly all of my ribs that day. The places where one couldn't see the bruises and such, and because I was already sick no one suspected that.’

‘That's horrible.’

‘Yeah right? It's… Stupid I let him do that to me.’ A little laugh even escaped Arodan. ‘You know, that wasn't enough for him, apparently. When that happened, he dragged me over to the nearest chair by my hair and tied me down and well… After that everything is blurry. I just know that something he did sent me in a spiral of visions showing me the worst things imaginable, what I fear most.’ He grew hazy-eyed and his gaze slowly drifted back on his hand that still tangled with Atlas’. ‘Next morning, I woke up, disheveled with my ribs misaligned and feeling like the world grew a little lonelier.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I shouldn't have fallen for him, I know. And there's people that have it worse, so I shouldn't make this as big of a deal, look at me, I tried to scare you guys off because of this-’

'Dan?' Arodan could see Atlas had started to reach for him but paused. When he continued to reach, he still hesitated, drawing back whenever Arodan seemed to shake. Finally, when he did touch him, it was to wipe away tears he hadn't noticed welling up. On Atlas' fingers were black smears that he studied with narrowed eyes. 'Of course there's people that have it worse. That doesn't make your hurt you haven't had the opportunity to cope with yet any less important.'

'How can you say that?' He bit his tongue a little and felt something akin to blood may have started to stream out. His chest ached more painfully than all the other pain at the moment as if it could burst, as if someone has stuck one hundred spears into him. 'You even- I mean, look at me, look at what's on your hands. It's not important what I feel.'

'It is. It's to me, it's to the others.' He looked off the balcony towards the ocean. 'If you want to leave, I will not stop you. But I want to help you Dan, I like you.' He seemed careful in what he was saying. 'Me saying I like you won't soften the pain, I know that, but it does mean I'll be with you along the way.' He looked once more at his hand and the black smears started to fade away. 'Shade infection doesn't matter to me either, even if it scares me.'

'I'm sorry for that.' Arodan apologetically lowered his head. 'When did you know I was Shade infected? And why keep me around if you knew?'

'Kassa had a feeling of sorts, back when you first met them.’ Atlas said. ‘And you didn’t harm us now, did you? If anything-‘ He put his hand on Arodan’s chest and pat it. ‘Yours is dormant. You’ve already been treated once I noticed.’

‘That’s… That’s true.’ He glanced away. ‘I worry though. I mean, what if it springs up without warning-‘

‘It won’t.’ Atlas stubbornly responded. ‘You know, just sorta… What's the word, you need to assess what it acts on, and stop yourself when you feel that way, take a moment to breathe.’ He gestured vaguely between them. ‘Kassa said that. It attaches itself to a specific emotion and grows stronger as that emotion surges. You get me?’

‘Yes, I get it.’ He grimaced and then let a faint smile slip through. It was rather funny to him how Atlas attempted to explain something serious like this. ‘Atlas, I have one more question.’

‘Well, shoot dude.’ Atlas grinned, his ears perking up curiously.

‘What do you think about me?’ The question came surprisingly easy to Arodan and it seemed to even surprise Atlas at the moment who immediately seemed to think of what was the best answer to give. ‘Maybe that’s a little weird actually-‘

‘I mean, I like you, I told you right?’ Atlas quickly answered. He assuredly pat Arodan’s shoulder with his free hand. ‘In the friend sense and romantic sense if you’re up for it.’

‘Oh, well, that’s…’ Wait, hold on, Arodan thought. He gave pause, momentarily scratched his eyepatch, and then slowly like a boat ramming the shore head on he processed what Atlas said. ‘Uh.’ He turned. ‘Um…?’

‘I said if you’re up for it. I ain’t putting you in an situations you’re not comfortable with.’ Atlas said, and his hand withdrew from Arodan’s. ‘And I know I’m ravishly good looking but you know, that shouldn’t be the only reason.’ He smiled, but now looked searching as if he feared he had said something wrong.

‘I’m… Speechless.’ He hadn’t been in a long time. Only a few people throughout his life had managed to inflict such a state on him. ‘That’s a bit contradictory- what am I…’ He took a deep breath and with a heated face and fumbling hands he turned to Atlas. ‘I like you too. In that sense. But it’s also a little too soon for me, and I need some time.’

‘... Okay.’ Atlas whispered, his grin softening to something that maybe was too grave for him, that painted him in heartfelt and illuminating manner. ‘Want to still be friends or-‘

‘Of course. Above all, we’re friends. I want to know you as well as I can to make this work.’ He sought Atlas’ hand on his own now and tangled his fingers with his. ‘I’d like to not mess up and know how to apologize if I do. Because I’m not perfect in the slightest. Just give me the time to find myself again, so I can be the best person for you I can be.’

‘I think you’ll be fine Danny.’ Atlas said, and stifled a giggle. ‘We’ll be fine. I can do slow.’

'Slow's good. Quiet is good.' Arodan hummed, and he let go to lean on the railing. Atlas followed him and didn't respond, but by his breathing he sounded at peace with the quiet. The sun had started to sink beneath the ocean and nothing but the wind disturbed their moment. Only when the door opened again the silence was fully broken.

'Hello boys.'

'Yo, Kassa.' Atlas turned, paused, and then dropped on one knee. 'And my liege, I see.'

'No need for formalities now Atlas, rise.' Balam said, his voice not sounding as loud and booming now that he was outside. Arodan turned now too and could see Kassa wore something more akin to a very furry and large bathrobe that glistened with every movement, and that Balam was dressed in a considerably plain shirt and pants. 'How are you two? You seem rather jovial, Arodan.'

'You could say that.' Arodan said, bowing his head respectfully to Balam. 'I'm… I'm happy yes. Probably the best I've felt in a while.' He could guess Atlas was grinning at him at the moment. 'I didn't think that could happen.'

'That must be a surprise for you.' Balam came to stand besides him and Kassa tailed after him. They had already been in the process of lighting their pipe and looked like they intended not to speak, the bags that were visible from under their glasses only emphasizing this. Atlas joined Arodan's left hand side and listened in, enjoying the sounds of the ocean to himself. 'Will you be safe tomorrow? The offer still stands for you to remain inside the city.'

'I'd rather be out on the battlefield sir. Besides, I wasn't planning to die.' He sounded a little snippy as he spoke but meant it with only good intentions. 'I have reasons not to and I want to somehow repay the comfort you have provided me.'

Balam chuffed in response and rubbed his hands together. Although he looked tired he wore a mischievous smile that was if not a little infectious. 'Well, you wouldn't have to repay us. After all, this started with us locking you up.' He leant his hands on the railing. 'But any reason that makes you want to stay alive is good, after all, there's things I still have to discuss with you.'

'Like what?'

'Books. Cooking. Maybe I'll have you teach me the fine art of jewelry making.' Balam held up his hands apologetically. 'Would you be able to teach me this despite my big and very unrefined hands?'

'... Yes. Yes of course.' Arodan should have known Balam wouldn't have wanted to discuss something serious, just something that clearly meant a lot to him. 'We'll start on something less refined and then work our way up. If you can cook well, you can adapt that finesse.'

'We'll see.' He nudged Arodan and looked out over the ocean. He looked melancholic as he did but at least not as stressed as he had seemed the earlier days. 'Thank you Arodan.'

'Dan will do fine sir.' That caused Balam to have and stifle a laugh and he ended up burying his face into his arm as if it was the funniest thing he had heard that day. Things will be fine, Arodan thought. He could hope. Along the way Carmen, Caer, and Langdon who paled compared to the heights of the others joined. He sat on Balam's shoulder in bipedal form, while Carmen had elbowed Kassa out of the way whose coat seemed like one big shockbreaker, They didn't say anything beyond the complaint that it was getting far too busy. Caer remained watching by the door with a self assured smile.

Maybe this was home. Only Epoch was-

'Epoch!' In a flurry of brown, blue-tipped feathers Carmen welcomed Epoch into her arms who flew right into her embrace. The two crashed onto the deck laughing and yelling to each other, their tails tangling. Luckily Epoch had shifted to a more manageable form, Arodan thought, since he would have crushed the rest of the group this way. No one really gave them any thought, since Epoch and Carmen had already engaged into a long winded and fast spoken conversation about Epoch's travels, holding each other's hands through it.

'So, boy-' Kassa slipped around Balam and snugly ended up next to Arodan. 'You ready?' The coat almost swallowed Arodan's side and he was a little worried he might drown in it somehow. 'Thought about what death looks like yet?'

'No. I'm not as nihilistic as you are at the moment.' Arodan grumbled. Atlas nudged him at his other side and he righted himself. 'I'm sure it's cold and lonely.'

'Well, as opposed to you I'm rather fond of thinking of death as a living concept. You know, someone who looks after you in the life beyond.' They said. Their lips twisted into a sly smirk as if they were intentionally attempting to prod Arodan into a corner. 'Meeting them sometimes, wouldn't that be nice?'

'Implying I should die?'

'No. If you're a sensible person, get yourself a medium darling.' Kassa pat him idly, the entire coat swishing around. 'You can meet Death and not die.'

'Usually you don't just meet Death. It usually means you're dying or dead.' He waved his hands around rested them on the railing once he lowered them. 'Is this a perspective thing? Have you met Death or something?'

'Yes to both those questions.' Kassa said, and they immediately snickered darkly knowing they knew a lot more things than Arodan within this subject. 'That is all I will share with you.'

'I'm not sure if this is a particular conversation I'd like to have anyway.' Arodan responded with finality and he turned away to look at Atlas. Kassa was still smiling at him, that much he could guess. He went quiet again, and found it in himself to smile again. Atlas shot him a curious look but grinned in return and nudged him with his shoulder so they stood joined side by side. Arodan threw one more longing glance over the people by the railing who stood mostly silent thinking of their fates except Epoch and Carmen who spoke as if there wasn't a care in the world and all was right. Arodan, as jaded as he was could find himself in that sentiment at the moment.

[kara-no-ai]

KOR Bad Boys part 3

" --Suoh Mikoto." Kusanagi's classmate sitting in the seat in front of him had said when looked out the window, his hands that he had been using to wolf down his bento halting to a stop. "That's Suoh Mikoto, isn't it? Huh, lookin' at him from here he doesn't seem all that dangerous."

Kusanagi followed his classmate's gaze and looked outside the window as he munched on his homemade sandwich. Though the courtyard was visible from the third year students' classroom, he did not see the corresponding person.

"Where?"

"The bench underneath the tree over there. Ah, you can't see it from the angle you're at. He must've finished eating or something, he's just laying around."

From where Kusanagi was sitting, the tree must be blocking his view. However it was not something worth going to the trouble of standing up to see, so Kusanagi returned his gaze to his lunch. It was a baguette filled with leftover food from the Bar Homra; the leftovers themselves were tasty so it was actually quite good. The filling of the sandwich he had today was lettuce and ham, as well as a ratatouille of vegetables stewed in tomato sauce. As it was a dish that could also be served cold, it worked well in a sandwich and the saltiness of the ham provided a good seasoning.

"Suoh Mikoto, huh...."

He had just talked about that very person with Nagahama last night. Suoh Mikoto had been a famous boy in Shizume City from his middle school years. This spring (1), he had entered the school Kusanagi was going to, Suga High School, as a first year student.

Since he had come to Tokyo, no sooner after Kusanagi had started to familiarize himself with the town had he started to hear rumors about Suoh.

When he had turned the tables on some of the hoodlums lurking around Shizumene City that had picked a fight with him, his opponents were left in critical condition, having lost consciousness for a period of time. Fortunately, as they all survived and did not have any lasting injuries. Therefore, although it was borderline excessive for self-defense, it was categorized as justifiable self-defense and did not become a criminal matter. Since a group of delinquents who boasted of their strength had been defeated and nearly killed by a kid of 12 or 13 with his bare hands, rumors started flying throughout the city. And the same thing repeated again and again.

A group that had went to seek retaliation had instead been beaten up themselves, then a group that had heard the rumors and had grown a bit curious and faced him. In fighting with such groups, it was only natural for grudges and hostility towards Suoh to develop amongst the teams of delinquents. As such, the opportunities for Suoh to be violent increased.

Kusanagi had never once heard of Suoh losing a fight. Whether or not it was because he had learned from that experience to hold back somewhat, Kusanagi had never heard of an incident where his opponents had nearly died beyond the first one. Nonetheless, to those who would get into a fight with him, it appeared that fighting with Suoh felt like no less than "risking your life" and he had suddenly started to be called a "wild beast."

It meant that if you were to try to start something, you should be prepared for the consequences. Like how if you mess with a lion, you will be chased and get your windpipe torn open. Or if you throw a stone at a bear, you will get your face chewed up.  

Unlike Earless Mitsuha who had come up in the conversation last night, with Suoh it seemed that he rarely initiated any violent acts himself. In that way too he resembled a true wild animal.

"I wonder why he's in a half-assed college prep school like ours. If he'd went to a school where there were more delinquents he's have been able to become the king of it."

"'Why? 'Cause he's not stupid. Who'd make a point of lowerin' the rank of school they go ta just so they can be king o’ the rock?"

After Kusanagi said such in a shocked tone, his classmate looked at him with suspicion.

"I don't wanna hear that from someone who could've gone to a better school if he wanted to."

"The time it takes to commute ta school's a serious matter, y'know. Life's short. I don't wanna spend mine on the time it takes goin' back an' forth."

Kusanagi's classmate just gave a response of 'what are you saying?' with a laugh at the look of triumph that had risen on Kusanagi's face.

"Plus, I don't think he's the type that'd have any interest in bein' a king."

"Do you know Suoh Mikoto personally, Kusanagi?"

"Nah, I only know the rumors."

Though Kusanagi did not know to what extent the rumors he has heard about Suoh Mikoto are true, 'the type of people who spread these sort of rumors' and what sort of inclinations they possessed was something he could picture.

Since he was famous, if Suoh hung out with people in the night version of Shizume City or had a place that he frequents, Kusanagi would have heard about it. In other words, Suoh was not the type of animal to form a pack.

When the afternoon classes ended, students began to dash out of the school. Kusanagi joined the crowd, walking leisurely amidst the characteristically listless hustle and bustle of the students.

How should he spend the rest of his day? Should he help out at the bar, or maybe set off to roam around the city for fun....? If Mizuomi seemed to have nothing to do he could have Mizuomi show him how to make the Bar Homra's specialty curry from him again. Though it was something as simple as curry, for some reason whenever Kusanagi would make no matter what he did his curry would not have the same taste. It had been bugging him.

He was headed to the place where students kept their bicycles while thinking of this when he caught sight of a female classmate of his by the pathway. She was standing there holding a broom with a troubled aura about her.

"Heya, Nattsun. Yer turn for cleaning duty? (3)"

The girl who was generally referred to by her class as Nattsun stemming from her name 'Natsuki' came over to Kusanagi as soon as she caught sight of him.

"It's Suoh Mikoto!"

While gripping the broom tightly in her hands, Natsuki looked up at Kusanagi with an expression that was the embodiment of seriousness itself. With no prior explanation given, was quite an abrupt declaration to make.

"Huh?"

Yet again that name from last night. Upon Kusanagi gave her a questioning look, Natsuki brought her hand up to her mouth as though she were about to say something in secret.  Kusanagi leaned downwards and brought his ear close to her face.

"You don't know about him? Suoh Mikoto, the first year. The one from the crazy rumors."

"I've heard the rumors. But what's this about him?"

"He's over there." Natsuki said in the same tone of voice that one would say 'they're going to come out' when telling a ghost story.

"Over there?"

"I'm telling you! Suoh Mikoto! In the courtyard over there! And I'm on cleaning duty for the courtyard this week!"

Kusanagi shrugged his shoulders. During lunch break, his classmate who had been eating a bento had also said that Suoh Mikoto was in the courtyard. But two periods had passed since then and it was now after school. When he turned to go towards the courtyard since it had caught his interest, Natsuki pushed the broom into Kusanagi's hands.

"Kusanagi-kun, will you trade cleaning shifts with me? Wow, you're the best!"

"Hey, I never said I'd... tch, 's fine. Ya owe me one."

Taking the broom with a wry smile, Kusanagi pretended to lightly whack her on the head as she laughed happily. It seemed as though she had truly been troubled. He could see the sight of relief on her slightly embarrassed face.

"Ah but be careful. I don't think he would do anything to provoke a fight with a third year out of the blue. But if anything happens, just give me a signal and I'll go get a teacher to..."

"Nah, I ain't worried at all."

It seemed as though Natsuki thought that if someone were to go near Mikoto, they would get bitten. She was truly treating him as though he were a wild beast.

He left her with a 'you'll get embarrassed if you go 'round buyin' too much into rumors~' and headed off to the courtyard.

The Suga High School which Kusanagi went to was not old enough to have a history to it, but it was also not new enough that you could call it a newly established school. Its location was a fairly good distance from where he lived and it had a fairly good rate of students who went on to university; it was a school that on every front was just 'fairly good'.

The afternoon sunlight shone down on the well-maintained courtyard and peaked through the branches of the cherry blossom tree which by now had turned completely green.

There the red-haired boy was. On a bench in the small courtyard which connected the pathways between the east building and west building, lying down with his arms crossed. Perhaps it was because the warm summer air combined with the leaves overhead which soaked in the sun's rays and provided shade invite the feeling of sleepiness, but there he was, truly fast asleep.

Kusanagi was reminded of a stray cat that often came into the yard of his family's house in Kyoto. It was a rough-looking, impudent cat. Despite the fact it was not fond of people, it chose his house as a spot for afternoon naps and when given food would eat it without thought and then suddenly disappear.

The guy sleeping peacefully on the school's bench had an air about him that was more along the lines of an impudent stray cat than a wild beast.

While tapping the handle of the broom against his own shoulder, Kusanagi looked down at Suoh Mikoto from all the rumors. He could just ignore him and go about finishing up cleaning, but his interest in Mikoto had grown. He lightly swung the broom he held in his hand through the air with a whoosh and pointed the tip of the handle towards Mikoto. He lightly tapped him on the side several times.

Kusanagi waited for a response from Mikoto, but despite the poking, he continued to sleep. Even his breathing pattern remained undisturbed.

Kusanagi thought that how with Mikoto seemed right now was far from an undefeated wild beast; on the contrary he looked like even a girl could take him down.

Kusanagi stopped holding back and put more force into poking Mikoto with the handle of the broom.

" 'Ey, first year. Yer gonna be in my way if ya sleep there."

There was no response.

Kusanagi's face twitched. This guy...

In exasperation and a bit of irritation- as well as due to his growing curiosity, he firmly gripped the handle of the broom and put his strength into prodding Mikoto's stomach with it. It was not to the extent that it would be called an attack, but it was a slightly stronger force than you would use when only trying to wake someone up.

A soft, short but dull sound of a snap echoed throughout the courtyard. The broom went flying from Kusanagi's hands, hit the ground with a thump and rolled away.

The hand that held the broom froze. For a brief moment, Kusanagi was unable to ascertain what had happened.  Because Mikoto still looked as though he were sleeping. However, when looked closer he saw that Mikoto's hand was raised. It seemed as though he had used that hand to brush off the broom handle that Kusanagi had tried to poke him with.

Mikoto wrinkled his eyebrows in displeasure and slowly opened his eyes.

"So ya were awake after all?" said Kusanagi as though he was a bit displeased by it and leaned down to pick up the broom.

Suoh, still sprawled out on the bench, opened his eyes a crack and looked vacantly up at the air. He lifted his left hand which he had used to brush off the broom and opened his mouth with a grunt.

Kusanagi had been wary of what Suoh would say but the next thing to come out of Suoh mouth was a big yawn. After an unabashedly big yawn, Suoh slowly sat up. He appeared as though he was still half asleep, seeming not quite have a grasp on the situation. As though he might not have even realized that he had protected himself from a broom.

After debating on how to address Mikoto,  Kusanagi settled with a "....Mornin'?" to which Suoh gave a slow reply of 'yeah'.

Is this guy alright in the head? Kusanagi thought as he watched the still half-asleep Suoh.

"School's already out. Ya can't go about sleepin' 'ere, so if ya wanna sleep then head home."

"Already out....." Suoh repeated Kusanagi's words it seemed as though he was finally alert, or at least the the dazed look in his gaze had gone and been replaced with a sour expression.

"When did ya fall asleep?"

"........Noon."

It seemed as though he had truly slept there from lunch onwards. He had not noticed the chime that rang many times at the start and end of each class, nor woken up when the hustle and bustle that had been going on around him had stopped. There was, of course, no one brave enough to wake up the famous Suoh Mikoto, so he had ended up taking a far longer nap than one should when at school.

"Ya unintentionally skipped out on fifth n' sixth period? Yer somethin' alright. What classes did ya have?"

"Math and........ English."

When he mentioned English, Suoh's expression grew even more sour. Wondering if the English teacher was someone who would fuss over skipping the class, Kusanagi though of who the English teacher would be.

"Ah, lemme guess, yer English teacher's Honami-sensei? If I recall, she's the teacher fer first year class A. 'N also the homeroom teacher."

Kushina Hoemi. The young female teacher that had come to Suga High School the previous year. She was a beauty with a soft demeanor who was very popular among the students. The girl students looked up to her as a big sister and among the boy students there were those who had seriously fallen in love with her. Kusanagi had taken her English class the previous year. Just among the boys in his class, there had been many who had taken an interest in learning the language after hearing her charming voice speak in it when reading English sentences. He was sure Suoh was in first year class A.

Though it was impossible not to feel sorry for the gentle female teacher hearing that she was the homeroom teacher of the well-known Suoh Mikoto, by seeing Suoh's reaction it somehow seemed as though Suoh was the one who had a hard time dealing with Honami.

Suoh frowned and glanced away.

"Honami-sensei might be worryin' about ya since ya didn't show up fer her English class or homeroom, y'know?"

"Shut up." Suoh said in a bored tone. He then stood up.

"I'm a third year, y'know. It wouldn't hurt ya to speak ta yer Senpai in a more polite manner." Though Kusanagi had only complained about Suoh's rude manner in a joking tone, Suoh left without giving the slightest reply. Kusanagi called out after him.

"Wild beast Mikoto."

Mikoto paused and looked back at Kusanagi with a flat expression that said he did not think anything of being called such. He did not seem to particularly dislike it, nor did he seem to care for it in the slightest. The face that Suoh made was just one that was aware that name was something people called him.

Kusanagi gave a small smile.

"That's some name ya got 'here. A girl in my class was scared of it too. It was her turn to clean the courtyard, but she said she couldn't cause the famous Suoh Mikoto was sleepin' there."

Suoh did not give any sort of response. He simply waited until Kusanagi was done speaking and then truly left.

"See ya, Mikoto-kun." Kusanagi called out to Suoh as he walked away. As he had expected, Suoh did not react.

-♛-

Notes:

(1) The Japanese school system is set up that the first semester begins in Spring (more specifically April).

(2) The word used here is ‘Oyama no Taishou’ which is the Japanese equivalent of the children’s game referred to as ‘King of the Rock’ in Mulan (which I chose to render it as for the sake of invoking a familiar image). A kid climbs to a high point and defends it against those who come after saying he’s the only ‘oyama no taichou’ or ‘boss of the mountain’. It’s also used to describe people who are childishly insistent on being in charge or the best, which is what Kusanagi uses it as here.

(3) In Japanese middle and high school, students are in charge of keeping the building clean, from the classroom to the toilets to the courtyard outside. They take turns for who cleans what.

(4) Kouhai are socially obligated to speak in polite language to their senpai, as their senpai are older than them and outrank them in school year. To fail do this, as we see Mikoto do, is extremely rude.

[torentialtribute]

Man City v Spurs betting odds and tips plus Premier League predictions with Man United at Everton

Manchester City and Tottenham odds plus Premier League predictions

[bewerken] [toevoegen aanbieding] Do you think Liverpool should be in the same league?

Manchester City and Tottenham have much to be made after the confrontation with the Champions League and they start the final round Premier League competitions.

City could regain pole position with a victory with Liverpool, which was not in action until Sunday, when they faced Cardiff, threatened with relegation.

Manchester United and Arsenal are also in action on Sunday, against Everton and Crystal Palace respectively. Here is our guide for the two-day games – everything starts at 3:00 p.m. on Saturday unless otherwise stated.

Manchester City vs. Tottenham – Saturday 12:30 PM

It's a tricky start to the final round of top performance with another squatter on the cards in the early start of Saturday. It is hard to predict how midweek chaos will affect their third encounter in less than fourteen days – will it be a backlash from the city or can Spurs use the momentum to get a result? Can Mauricio Pochettino inflict a deadly blow on Pep Guardiola & title hopes just after killing his dreams about the Champions League and Quadruple? It is unlikely. The dramatic and entertaining Wednesday evening was, the 90-minute outcome was the victory in the city after they had led to peace, which was easy to come back to. You can get 4/5 if the weather happens (City is no better than 1/4 to take the points). There are scores here, a race to run and a top four fight to fight. Don't rule out a little needle and watch bet365 & # 39; s 5/1, there is a red card in the match.

<img id = "i-5d49c1d04b91fe92" src = "https://dailym.ai/2KTDzNR -0-image-a-1_1555749311004.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-5d49c1d04b91fe92" src = "https://dailym.ai/2CYdfvj 2019/04/20/09 / 12506162-0-image-a-1_1555749311004.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Mauricio Pochettino and Pep Guardiola saw their games playing a thriller on Wednesday

Mauricio Pochettino and Pep Guardiola saw how their games played a thriller on Wednesday [HuddersfieldvWatford

There is no room for sympathy if you are chasing Europe and looking forward to a FA Cup final, so Javi Gracia said this week that he wants Watford to rub her salt in the wounds of degraded Huddersfield. Rub away, Javi. Even without the suspended Troy Deeney, the Hornets would have to have fun against the Huddersfield team that turned in four goals in three of their last four games. The faster this season is over, the better and Watford is worth making up slightly less. Gerard Deulofeu is confronted with a late fitness test and if he succeeds, it is 11/4 for the score-win double while Andre Gray is 5/2 in the same market.

Wolves against Brighton

Backing Brighton was shameful last weekend because they crumbled at home against Bournemouth and lost 5-0 to a team that seemed to do little more than to see the season. And then it got worse for the seagulls with another home defeat, this time in the hands of Cardiff. How Brighton ended up in a scrap for survival after he looked safe is not nearly as difficult to work out – they lost their last four in the competition during the bounce – five in all competitions – without scoring. Wolves are also a bit colder than they were for much of the campaign, they have only won two of their last eight in the competition. But this fixture should see them back to winning ways and they are 3/4 for the win or 13/8 to win without letting one in.

Bournemouth v Fulham

These two were full of surprises last time out – Bournemouth wins at Brighton and Fulham and remembers how to keep a clean slate (their first since December) while being scored a few at the other end. What happens now? Probably a Cherries wins. Scott Parker says Fulham's confidence is sky high after that Everton home win a week ago – it ended a nine-match losing-run – but they remain the only team in the four divisions in England without a win and their record is the two points of 51 available on the road. Both teams score a good bet here for that booming win over the Amex last week, Bournemouth had a hard time at home – no win in the final four. Confident Fulham at least wrinkles the net.

West Ham v Leicester

Leicester lost at home to Newcastle was unexpected, especially with Brendan Rodgers on a winning match of four games that started in that match, but he will increase his chances of getting it back on the track against Hammer's side, who have only taken four points from the last 27 available against teams starting the day in the top half of the table. Manuel Pellegrini, who threw Rodgers & Liverpool to the title with Man City in 2014, scored only three goals during that run. Plus Leicester has the sixth best record in the competition, after five of the big six (they are better than Arsenal during their travels). On 11/8, Leicester will not be short of friends, but it's worth remembering that West Ham unfortunately went to Man United 2-1 last week while Felipe Anderson, their top scorer in the league, did a series of nine games ended without a goal in that loss. The hammers can take something with them – every score equals 7/2.

<img id = "i-1cb9a76d8e35ee62" src = "https://dailym.ai/2KO5oH3 -0-image-a-5_1555749503372.jpg "height =" 407 "width =" 634 "alt =" Felipe Anderson was again one of the goals when West Ham lost in Old Trafford West Ham lost in Old Trafford

[bewerken] [toevoegen aanbieding] Do you find West Ham lost at Old Trafford? Newcastle v Southampton – Saturday 5:30 pm

Rafa Benitez, earlier this season, put Newcastle on 38 points (their current total), but he has moved the goal posts in the light of Cardiff finding his way in the mix. Let's face it, Newcastle is safe, but Benitez will breathe much more easily if they win on Saturday. Before they lost in their last home game with Palace, the Magpies had won five in their own field, but missed opportunities against Roy Hodgson & # 39; s side. A 1-0 on Leicester helped them overcome that setback and it was the seventh time this season that they won with a goal margin. That's seven of their 10 wins. Everton v Man United – Sunday 1:30 PM

No claim has been made against Manchester United since Ole Gunnar Solskjaer took the wheel but this could be the week. Solskjaer was in cruise control until the beginning of last month, but since then he struggled to find the right gear, lost five of his last seven games in all competitions, and scored reasonably happy wins in the other two in that run – against Watford and West Ham Regarding Everton, they are back on track with two wins on the spin that one of the eight have previously won and, more importantly, they are back in the top six of the game and place recent wins at Goodison about Arsenal and Chelsea. Everton lost at Fulham the previous timeout was a weird person, but back on Merseyside and available on 9/4, they are worth the effort to clean up. They are 7/1 to win after they were level in the break.

<img id = "i-6c6273bdd8f04d07" src = "https://dailym.ai/2VcY2Rn -0-image-a-2_1555749346116.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Manchester United is struggling and could not handle Lionel Messi in the middle of the week "Manchester United is struggling and could not handle Lionel Messi in the midweek

Arsenal v Crystal Palace – Sunday sixteen

Arsenal is on the eve of history. Okay, it's not really the Invincibles but they have won 10 in a row in the Premier League and have never done eleven consecutive races in a top racing season. They also won six during the spin against the London rivals at the Emirates Stadium, so it doesn't look too good for Crystal Palace. However, the Eagles have Luka Milivojevic, the favorite favorite on this pages after another goal last time against Man City and he is 21/5 at any time this week. Visitors have also won three of their last four away from home. Four out of five seem to shoot long, but they can fight. Arsenal wins with two goals is 4/1 at a few companies while correct score counters can find the 11/1 available for 3-1.

<img id = "i-1ab7e266aa2dca7d" src = "https://dailym.ai/2GwhwZ4 09 / 12506180-0-image-a-3_1555749350495.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Arsenal aiming for

Arsenal aiming for an 11th home competition wins in a row when they facing Crystal Palace "

Arsenal aims to win an 11th home league in a row when facing Crystal Palace

]

Cardiff v Liverpool – Sunday sixteen

The big escape is still ongoing but Cardiff's task will not be easier after this game. A win could take them out of the bottom three, depending on how Brighton goes on, but they should stop with unbridled shades of red that have won eight in a row in all competitions. On 17/1, the Bluebirds are the best-priced team of the weekend and have lost every game they played against the top six this season. A chance at 2/9 is just as good as for an away win, but a Liverpool victory with more than 3.5 total goals in the game is 8/5 and more than 4.5 is 10/3. Five of Cardiff's last six games have ended 2-0 (three losses, two wins), but they do well to keep it low. Correct-score supporters could find 4-1 at 18/1 in Liverpool.

<img id = "i-95d70766fcedc021" src = "https://dailym.ai/2VdUxu8 -0-image-a-4_1555749354791.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-95d70766fcedc021" src = "https://dailym.ai/2CYdfvj 2019/04/20/09 / 12506128-0-image-a-4_1555749354791.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Liverpool, with Virgil van Dijk in good shape, strive to top the Premier League to stay "with Virgil van Dijk in good shape, want to remain top of the Premier League"

Liverpool, with Virgil van Dijk in good shape, strive to stay the top of the Premier League

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