#living in a new country where you don’t speak the language is very stressful

[birdiebortnik]

Wee update update! I’m working on acropolis chapter 4 (almost done). As I suspected I’m not strapped with much time to write these days and am hitting exhaustion induced writers block. But! I’m collecting music inspo for all other in progress fics and meditating on these stories.

I promise I’ll be back to updating and also answering dms soon!

Also! Thank you thank you thank for the folks commenting on said fics they’ve been making my day

Okaybye

[frvnkcastles]

Hello, I hope you are having a great day (English is not my first language, sorry) I've had this idea for a while now... frank x reader where she also doesn't have English as her first language but learned a lot from dating him. They are in a restaurant and she accidentally says the name of the order wrong and the waiter is very rude to her and this makes her very embarrassed and apologizing but Frank defends her and says it's okay... ❤️

THE BEST WORST THING ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re not a native English speaker and a waitress ridicules you for it, only for Frank to step in.

Warnings: Reader speaks English as a foreign language, hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.8k

Author’s note: The plot kinda got away from me at the beginning and I ended up giving more backstory than I meant to but I like how it turned out! Anyway, I’m sooooo here for Frank being head over heels for a foreign reader because I also don’t speak English as my first language and I have thought about this so many times before. I think Frank would be so supportive and fascinated and !!!!!! I love him so much. I hope you like this, anon and I’m sorry if you’ve gone through this before! You’re amazing <3

Not being a native speaker in English but living in New York was a great source of stress for you. You felt like you were in the belly of the beast, forced to learn under the circumstances, and you tried very hard to do exactly that. Still, you couldn’t hide your accent and there were situations where a mysterious word confused you or the pronunciation of another would make you nervous. It was a long journey to be on, but for the most part, people were nice about you trying to learn.

Nonetheless, when you met Frank, you were terrified. Even though you didn’t know him that well, only through brief encounters in the hallway that you shared, you had quickly put together him being an all-American kind of guy with a military background serving as proof of his loyalty to the country. And you were… not that. Well, you were trying to be a good citizen, but you couldn’t match his level, and that made you anxious around him.

But you were brought face to face with him, anyway. It was a particularly rainy day, with the sky opening up and releasing a hellish storm just as you were making it home. You were relieved to arrive at the front entrance of the apartment building, but you were soon slapped in the face with the disappointing truth — you had forgotten your keys at home.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to stand in the rain for long.

”Locked out?” his gruff voice startled you out of your thoughts, and flinching as his tall frame loomed over you, you turned to meet Frank. He was sopping wet, hair slicked back and his jacket drenched through, but he seemed more worried about you in your t-shirt and little skirt.

”Uh, yeah. Forgot keys at home”, you stammered out, standing aside as he whipped out his own set and unlocked the door for you. He graciously moved to give you space to walk in, and you snuck inside for shelter from the rain. He followed you, running his hand through his soaked hair before stepping into the elevator, and you did the same.

”Thank you”, you sent a smile his way before turning to stare at the elevator doors and twisting your sleeves uncomfortably. He made you so, so nervous, and he could tell, causing an amused smile to tug on his lips as he watched you avoid eye contact and tap your foot impatiently.

”Where you from, ma’am?” he broke the silence, and instinctively looking over to him, you found him narrowing his eyes at you, like he was trying to decipher an enigma. You felt the same way about him, like he was a complete mystery except for his Marine background, but that had been enough to make you wonder if he was a dangerous man.

You told him where you had moved from, earning a curious nod from him. ”Like the accent. Don’t let this city take it away from you”, he noted, and stunned by the compliment, you didn’t know what to say. You had no time, either, when the elevator doors opened with a ding, and he stepped out.

You went after him, unable to dodge him considering your apartments were across the same hallway, but a small smile was on your lips now. Only when you got to your door, you realized your keys were still inside and Frank couldn’t exactly let you in this time.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion, hesitating at his own doorstep. ”I have the landlord’s number. I, uh, could make some coffee while you wait”, he suggested softly, trying not to seem too menacing. He noticed you debating for a moment, but eventually, you agreed.

”Landlord?” you queried carefully, and chuckling, Frank nodded.

”Yeah, he’ll unlock the door for ya. He ain’t exactly fast, though, so you might get a lil bored sitting in the hallway waitin’ for him”, he explained, and a little embarrassed that you hadn’t put the pieces together, you made a sound.

”Alright. Well, you’re kind. Thank you, Frank”, you spoke, taking a shot in the dark — he had introduced himself once, but you had been so shaky sharing the same space with him that you couldn’t be sure you had memorized it correctly, at all. He didn’t correct you, though, so you took it as a success and stepped into his apartment.

He found a lot of excuses to bump into you after that. He helped you carry groceries inside and he fixed your leaking faucet, and in doing so, he taught you a lot of words you hadn’t had any clue about. He had a very specific way of speaking, you noticed, and you didn’t always understand his phrasing, but he encouraged you to ask. He didn’t do it to confuse you, it was just a habit, and one that you actually enjoyed. He had a nice voice and you liked listening to him even if he was lecturing you about keeping yourself safe in the city. In return, you taught him some words of your own language, and he was eager to understand your background better.

Through late nights teaching each other in your kitchen, you fell for him and he fell for you. Neither of you expected to find something so special in a neighbor, but the spark between you was impossible to deny or ignore, and so, he asked you out on a date, a real one. He was a little old-fashioned that way, wanting to take you to a fancy restaurant and spoil you, even though he had already made an impression on you. But you liked the idea, so you agreed.

On the night of the date, you felt a ball of nerves in your gut. The restaurant was, indeed, fancy, almost too much. You felt like a fish out of water — you were dressed the part, sure, and Frank had praised the way you looked with his eyes constantly scanning you over and over again. But as soon as the menu was put in front of you and you took a look at all the options, your heart sank. You weren’t sure you understood any of the intricate details on every order, and panic slowly reared its head in your chest as you tried to find anything you could actually pronounce.

”What’s this one?” you asked Frank repeatedly, your voice just a hushed whisper to avoid anyone realizing how clueless you were. Frank didn’t mind, though, and he made sure to clarify everything as thoroughly as you needed, his hand holding yours over the table as he described the options for you.

With his help, you found a meal you liked, and when the waitress arrived to take your order, you hyped yourself up to say it out loud. And when you did… it didn’t go so well.

As your misspoken words hung in the air, the waitress’ smile dropped and annoyance dawned on her face. You didn’t even fully realize you had said anything wrong, until she made a point out of it.

”This is America. Shouldn’t you know how to at least speak the language? I have no idea what you just said”, she scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. You blushed furiously and wished the ground would swallow you whole, shrinking in your seat as the shame flooded you.

”I—I’m sorry”, you began, not sure what else to do except apologize for your incompetence, but Frank cut in quickly.

”Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You did good and I know exactly what you meant”, he rasped, giving you an affirming nod before turning to the waitress with a scowl. ”You ain’t gotta be so rude, for Christ’s sake. The lady’s tryin’, can’t you tell? Have some goddamn respect for the effort”, he continued, not bothering to hide his frustration as he glared at the waitress. You smiled faintly, feeling comforted by Frank standing up for you, and it almost made up for the embarrassment itching inside you.

The waitress turned on her heel and left the table, and as soon as she was gone, Frank was reaching for you, a concerned look in his eyes. ”You okay, darlin’?” he asked, all his anger gone — or at least, in hiding. He was gentle with you, and you appreciated it, but it didn’t stop a tear from slipping from the corner of your eye.

”Just a little embarrassed”, you admitted, wiping your eyes and sniffling. You didn’t want to cause a scene, but you suspected the waitress had already done that, and you were too scared to look around you in case you’d find judging stares everywhere.

”Hey, hey, hey. You got nothin’ to be embarrassed ’bout. It’s fuckin’ hard to learn a new language. The fact that you’re doin’ this well is real impressive, sweetheart. Everyone makes mistakes and that waitress is a piece of work for bein’ so hard on ya”, he insisted, trying to catch your gaze but you struggled to look at him.

”I guess. Thank you, Frank”, you sighed, but despite your gratitude, he could tell it bothered you — which meant it still bothered him, too. He thought you were so admirable for trying, and he absolutely adored your accent, and he hated the idea of anyone attempting to put you down for not knowing everything perfectly.

The waitress returned with your plates, and you felt uneasy, but stayed silent. ”Can I get you anything else?” she asked, and without skipping a beat, Frank piped up.

”Yeah. A goddamn apology”, he nodded towards you, and with a defeated nod, the waitress turned to you. She apologized, and you weren’t entirely sure she meant it, but it was something. And what really mattered was that Frank defended you to the end.

When she left once again, Frank squeezed your hand. ”I’m sorry that happened, darlin’. You’re tryin’ hard and I see it. I think you’re doin’ a fantastic job, yeah?” he frowned, and feeling a little better by his encouragement, you gave him a smile.

”Well, I’ve learned a lot from you”, you reminded, making him snort.

”Yeah, bunch o’ swear words, huh?” he smirked, his eyes full of something warm and soft as he looked at you. He got you to giggle, so he considered his job done.

”We can still make this a damn good date, sweetheart. Whaddya say?” he asked, wanting you to walk out of the restaurant with a smile, and you didn’t doubt that you would.

”I trust you, Frank”, you promised, meaning every word.

He was right — it was a great date even, especially when he finally kissed you at the end of it, after having daydreamed about tasting your lips for weeks. And the next day? He went right back to that restaurant and made a complaint to the manager, determined to shield you from any further bad experiences.

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

As promised to my darling friend @tismrot, here is the first of The Holiday Diaries *insert ominous music here*. Hope you enjoy it, dollface.

The drive was four hours. I can’t drive. Essentially, I lived in a country where I couldn’t speak the language when I was of an age to learn to drive. After that, once I moved to the UK at age 18, I’ve always either lacked the time or money (or both) for driving lessons. So I’m a frustrated passenger.

The destination was somewhere I said I’d never go again. A few years ago I ended up in A&E (not self inflicted - it was a treatment-resistant migraine, which means I end up on a morphine drip. It happens roughly every 4-5 years) and I can’t say my memories of this place are great as a result. On top of which I vowed last year that I wasn’t doing this type of holiday again and I’d be taking the kids separately from then on. Oh yeah, and then I lost my everloving shit last night as well. Oops. Meant to have that conversation AFTER the holiday.

Big words, big breeches…aaaaand here I am! On holiday! Fucksake. But hopefully it’ll be entertaining.

Hour one.

Kids argued within five minutes. Googled car games for them. They just looked at me like I grew an extra head. Felt like a dinosaur. Googled if I can do EMDR to myself. Results inconclusive. Atmosphere in the front of the car very awkward. BBC Radio 2 on.

Hour two.

Kids still arguing, although son has helped daughter build a rollercoaster on Minecraft. Told them about Rollercoaster Tycoon. Once again felt like a dinosaur. Messaged a LOT of people to pass the time. Still listening to Radio 2. Atmosphere obviously still awkward. Ignoring the burgeoning migraine that’s been bugging me on & off for the past week+. Definitely stressed. Saw someone with amazing green hair in a service station. Exchanged smiles. Kindred spirits. Despite being young enough to be my daughter. Do wonder if these people smile at me in a condescending way, wondering if grandma’s escaped from a home…Oh look, that was an ellipsis. And I DIDN’T PUT A SPACE AFTER IT. Ha. Anyway.

Hour three.

Fuck the migraine, took a triptan. Radio 2 still on, did pretty well on Ten to the Top. Dollface, you won’t know what this is…don’t worry about it. Read through the edits @tismrot made on my chapter I’d been struggling on. Felt like the shittest writer on Earth, but needed that kick up the arse. Realised by the end of the hour that the new triptans pack a punch and I was stoned off my nut. Is that a phrase? It is now. Atmosphere was…ah, fuck it, I didn’t care any more. It certainly passed the time.

Hour four.

Put my own playlist on. Well, a modified kid-friendly version. Still occasionally get caught out as I just filter songs out that have an ‘explicit’ tag, but sometimes the tag is missing, and sometimes they’re just fucking crude without using any swear words. Whoops. Oh well. Anything was better than Jeremy Vine. Was NOT listening to him. Took the kids for lunch at McDonald’s. Embarrassed the 8yo by putting on a silly hat, and singing, and dancing. It’s too easy. 11yo gives zero fucks, nothing embarrasses him.

Writing this in a caravan now. At least I have good reading material. I’ve finally got my over-arching plot & everything planned out for the first original book & these two books are great reading.

After the blowup argument last night I’m essentially spending time with the kids alone, reading alone or writing alone. A L O N E

Although there appears to be a case of amnesia that’s set in already. I’m choosing to laugh hysterically at this

[loser-female]

How do I get into cybersecurity? It looks fascinating but I don’t even know where to begin (for context, I am 28, have a BA in a completely unrelated specialization, and live in the US) 💛

Hi! I wasn't ignoring you, I just had shit days at work. Keep in mind that I work in EU and the labour market is different. I've heard a lot of lay-offs in the last few months but I have no idea if this involved cybersecurity positions or not. Also I'm a SOC Analyst specialising in Threat Intelligence. There are a lot of more positions to look out for, like if you are a lawyer you could go on the cyberlaw, privacy or auditing route.

Languages skills are appreciated a lot of you work in Threat Intelligence (I speak 4, currently learning Mandarin and my country sign language), coding skills are useful too.

Now, the usual path is:

1. Degree in computer science or software engineering (or math or physics, I did two years at physics)

2. You take a specialising course of some sort.

Some universities offers cybersecurity degrees I think (in my country it's a master's for example), and sometimes they might prepare you for CompTIA certs too. If you are lucky sometimes companies hire interns for like 6 months and they too make them study. My company did this... For the last interns. I had to be start my shifts after a month of learning lol. Idk if my manager threw a dice to choose between me and the other guy or if he noticed my ability.

I didn't follow that path, for various reason. I did a bootcamp and I took my certifications. But:

1. I've volunteered in a similar field for years and years (information research, debunking);

2. I speak 4 languages;

3. I did two years of physics before my health declined.

I do not recommend that part, because while I'm stupid good at my job, frankly my previous experience as volunteering did much more than any bootcamp.

Two points I feel I need make:

1. Certs. There are like an hundred or more, and it's a mess to figure it out. Plus it all depends what kind of role you want. Good news: most likely the company that will hire you will provide you access to few courses and the possibility to gain some of them, but IMHO taking a Sec+ or a Net+ is not a bad idea before looking for a job. While EC-Council is what HR looks at... Frankly let your company pay for it. Sec+ is like 350$ while a Ceh is 900$.

2. Downsides of my job - these are not talked enough imho.

-I work insane hours, I have two weekends free every two months because I work in shifts. I get paid more in my country (like I have a base hour rate and I get paid from 25% to 75% more of that rate if I like work on Christmas or a Sunday, nights get paid more obviously)

-I spend a significant amount of time studying and looking at news sites, social media to catch "the last news".

-Male environment. When I go to a conference I'm one of the like 20 women out of 1000, of which like 5 have a technical role like I do. It does make it feel like you are a freak even if no one is mean to you. I work from home, and I have only a female colleague - when I go to the office I'm the only woman out of 20 men. I love my colleagues and my manager, mind you, but if you are not in a good environment it's going to be a mess.

- Every company has a different set of tools, standards, programs etc that they use, and of you want to change job it can be hard to adapt.

-A SOC is a fast-paced environment and can be very stressful by nature, because it's a 24/7 service, and in certain parts of the day you can be inundated with alerts and issues to solve. And sometimes you have empty hours because nothing happens and it's boring.

- it's very important also to have soft skills because (like I did it today) you will be in charge of explaining what's going on to clients in a way that a 5 yo will understand, you will be in charge of projects, need to set enough time to study...

- You will meet people 1000x better than you are - and if you don't have the right mentality it's hard to deal with them, because you (well at least I do lol) will feel like an idiot and no one likes feeling like an idiot.

-Long hiring process. It took me a month from the first interview to be confirmed and two months to actually start - and this could really be a problem.

-Networking and connecting with others while it didn't land me a job definitely improved my skills, my credibility in the environment and who knows what else will happen in the future. Take what you can from others, most will be happy to share and help.

BUT!

Before committing you can try it with popular games such as Tryhackme or Hack The Box. They have learning environments where you can "play" and learn some basics. A real SOC or pen-test is like doing 10 of these challenges together but I had a lot of fun.

I hope this is enough! I tried to explain everything that someone considering a career in cybersecurity. Again, consider that I'm in Europe so this info might not be 100% accurate in the US.

[blackenedwhite97]

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[jinx-jade]

Secret Dreams chapter 1: Let the chaos begin.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, currently eighteen years old and completely exhausted with jet lag. She flopped onto her hotel bed and stared at the ceiling, unsure how to feel at this moment in time. Was she supposed to be happy and excited, or anxious and terrified? In all honesty, she was most likely a combination of all the above. The reason for Marinette’s distress?  Jagged and Penny had decided to bring Marinette with them for a charity gala in a different country.

The overexcited rockstar and his lovely assistant/wife had dragged Marinette to many different galas and events in many different places around the world. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue and there would be no need for Marinette’s freaking out and spiraling. The cause of the young designer’s stress was where Jagged, Penny, and Marinette were visiting.

Gotham, New Jersey, in The United States of America.

Also known to Marinette as the same country, state, and city her soulmate lives in. That’s not even mentioning the fact that the charity gala they will be attending is being hosted by her soulmate’s family. While Marinette would like nothing more than to meet her soulmate in person and not just when they’re both unconscious, she was rather worried about meeting his family.

Marinette and her soulmate Damian have a rare type of soul bond, but according to studies their bond was more commonly known as the dream zone. The dream zone is a space that their bond created for them to be together while being apart. The bonded souls are brought to the dream zone whenever they are unconscious and stay there until they become conscious again. 

The definition of being unconscious in the dream zone could mean anything from asleep, to being knocked out, in a coma, or even dead. This means that if you have a dream zone bond and your soulmate died, they would simply stay in the dream zone. While the dead soulmate is stuck in the dream zone, the living soulmate can visit them whenever they are unconscious. Making it so the bonded pair was never alone and never truly leave each other

 While some bonds only appear when you meet your bonded, the dream zone bond activates as soon as the younger of the bonded pair is born. This makes it so the bonded pair are together most if not all of their lives. As a result, Marinette and Damian know everything about the soul bonded to them.

They had decided relatively quickly that they would not keep any secrets from each other. Keeping secrets from their mate could cause strain on their bond. They enjoyed talking to each other about anything and everything. Keeping secrets from their mate was pretty much an impossible task anyway. Secretes from other people was a completely different story. Keeping secrets from others was how they stayed alive as long as they have.

 The League of Assassins viewed soulmates as a weakness that needed to be disposed of as soon as possible, so Damian never said a word about his mate. Ra’s and Talia had both made sure to check Damian for any signs of a bond. When they saw that Damian didn’t have any physical bonds they just assumed that his bond would appear when he met his soulmate, or he simply didn’t have one. Not having a soulmate wasn’t uncommon. Only two out of every three people had a mate.

This assumption from Ra’s and Talia sparked an idea for the young bonded pair. Marinette and Damian decided to pretend they didn’t have a soulmate. This decision made both of their lives a lot easier. Damian never had to hunt down and kill his mate, and Marinette didn’t have to share personal information about her bond with nosey kids her age. 

They had made this decision when they were five years old and stuck with it. According to everyone and anyone they knew, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Damian Al Ghul-Wayne don’t have soulmates. This created the current problem, Marinette was going to meet Damian in person, at a gala his family is hosting. A family that believes that Damian doesn’t have a soulmate. 

She could sense the chaos brewing.

Chaos?

Marinette let a grin appear on her face, replacing the worried look she had previously been wearing. Sitting up just enough to look at the alarm clock, she saw that it was already two in the morning

‘Damian should be done with patrol by now’ Marinette thought to herself as she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

Marinette opened her eyes as she appeared in the dream zone. Looking around to see if Damian was there yet.

“You should have been here before me Habibti” Damian chastised her, seeming to appear out of thin air behind her as he wrapped his arms around Marinette’s waist. Marinette let a small smile play on her lips as Damian’s hold on her tightened the slightest bit before loosening again. Letting her know that he had been worried about her.

Marinette knows full well that Damian was never really allowed to communicate his feelings through words. He was trained to not show any feelings at all. Even now, when Damian has been living with his father’s family for the past eight-year, he still has trouble putting emotions into words. As a result, Damian communicated through his actions more than he did his words. While his words might say one thing, his actions and body language usually say something else. Very rarely do Damain’s words and actions line up.

Turning around slowly, Marinette linked her arms behind his neck, Damian’s hands still resting on her waist, “ Sorry about that mon amour,” Marinette purred back in response, tilting her head to the right while slowly batting her eyelashes at him. Somehow looking every bit the picture of perfect innocence and mischief. 

Damian looked over her facial features, inspecting her from any hint of something being amiss. He nodded to himself, seeing that whatever was bothering Marinette had already been taken care of. At the very least, Marinette had already come up with a way to handle the issue.

Damian leaned forward luring her into a soft, lazy, kiss. He brought her closer to himself, which Marinette easily copied, wrapping her arms a bit tighter around his neck. Once their need to breathe outweighed his desire to be this intimately close to his bonded, Damian broke away from the kiss, inching away slightly to rest his forehead against hers.

Marinette let out a content sigh before speaking in a soft tone, “Sorry for worrying you, Dove.”

Damian let out a hum in response, letting her know that he accepted the apology. Pulling away completely, Damian quickly caught Marinette’s hand, guiding her to the living room looking part of the dream zone. Damian sat in the corner of the couch, settling his bonded into his lap, Marinette easily complied. 

Something Marinette had learned years ago was that Damian preferred being in control of situations. When something fell outside of his control, he would get anxious, causing him to do small repeated movements such as tapping his finger quietly against his thigh, arm, or table. If Damian feels that the situation is too far out of his control he'll lash out, be it physically or verbally.

“What are you thinking?” Damian questioned looking at her curiously.

“How much chaos would be caused if Gotham’s ice prince showed this much affection at the upcoming charity gala,” Marinette informed him with a smirk

Damian scoffed at his girlfriend, rolling his eyes, “You and your chaos”

Marinette lightly smacked Damian’s arm as she gasped as if she were offended, “I’ll have you know that I made Jagged’s, Penny’s, and my outfits for the gala! That’s not even mentioning the fact that I was also commissioned by your father to make your family’s outfits as well!”

Marinette huffed before her smirk returned, “I did a lot of creating, so of course I have to balance it out with some chaos.”

Damian let out a chuckle, “Then let the chaos begin.”

[bakugohoex]

can you please write a fic where youre aizawas' wife and you're pregnant with twins, and while he's in the middle of teaching at UA you go into labor and you call him, and he leaves in the middle of their class, (the class dosen't know he's married and obviously dosen't know he's about to become a father) and the class thinks that something's seriously wrong because they saw panic on his face for a slight second when he got the call, so they end up following him to the hospital only to see him sniling and holding two newborn babies that look just like him and the woman who is on the hospital bed (you) and theyre in shock when they find out that you're his wife and those are his kids, but what shocks them most is the big smile on his face when he was holding his babies 🥺 idk i thought it would be cute

“did he steal two babies?”

pairing: shouta aizawa x female reader

cw: language, fluff

word count: 3000+

a/n: i live for domestic one shots, i might write some more depending on how i’m feeling, hope you guys like this have a happy new years eve people, the stupid tags arent working so if you could reblog it it would mean a lot 

summary: in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Eight months, eight full fucking months of carrying Aizawa’s little spawns. Having spent your last term of pregnancy on bed rest, it had been the worst term ever, you would rather have taken the puking up last nights dinner then staying in bed. Even Aizawa had gotten annoyed with how frustrated you had got, you craved how he could get up and leave for work. You hadn’t gone into work since your maternity leave started and you were annoyed, being a pro hero it had been worse.

As soon as you told the agency you were pregnant, you were desk bound, unable to go on patrols. It was fucking annoying and you hated every second of it, and all Aizawa could do was smirk at your frustration. “I’m due any day now, just leave work and stay with me.” You plead grabbing the material from his neck, you wanted him to hold you. You already felt gross staying in bed 24/7 but now you didn’t have your husband beside you 24/7.

“Kitten, this is my last day, I’ll spend the rest of the pregnancy with you.” You were grouchy letting go of him and turning your head to face away for him. “Y/n.”

He tried to gain your attention but ignored him, “you should’ve gotten pregnant as well you’d understand.”

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he crept his arms around your body, his hand resting on the baby bump. You shuffled closer to his body, before turning your head to see him softly rubbing back and forth across the bump.

“Be patient, my love.” It was a whisper which brought you comfort.

“If you’re not home by 4pm then I’m locking you out of the house.” You threaten.

He looks down at you with your fiery eyes, “sure you are.” He kisses the top of your head; you pout wanting a proper kiss. He looks at how perfect you looked with his babies, when you both found out you were having twins, the small apartment you had called home since dating. Had gone and a house in the country close enough to UA and still for you to do pro hero work was where the both of you had situated.

Your relationship have been very secretive, a small wedding ceremony which had been perfect with your family and friends. Of course people had noticed you had gone MIA but one day you’d come out and tell the world how you and Aizawa were an inseparable family.

He moved to capture your lips, grabbing his face you wanted to just drag him back to bed. But he quickly moved out of your grip, “patience Y/n.”

“Shouta.” You whine like a child would.

“Seems like ill be raising three babies now.” He mocked putting the scarf around his yellow goggles.

“I hope you break your goggles.” You huff again, he doesn’t speak only kissing your temple after the small peck he had given to your lips.

He starts to walk out the bedroom, your wedding photo situated on the cabinet. You were perfect back then and now with his kids inside of you, you became somehow even more perfect. He had never thought that the woman he had met all those years ago, who had showed of her quirk to the whole world would be the one he fell in love with.

He looked back at you, you were grumpy due to hormones but once the babies were out you knew you’d go back to being yourself (and both of you could fuck properly, but that was just a bonus.)

“Make sure to walk around the house.” He warns.

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “and what if I don’t, will you come home early?” Your extra clinginess melted his insides, he knew how bored your loud self was and being cooped up inside had took a toll on you.

“I’ll come home early.” The sound of your squeal lifted his spirits, it was adorable, and he loved how easily your mood changed. Your face was full, and you had something to look forward too as he left the room.

The day for Aizawa had been smooth sailing, having asked to leave at 2pm and being able to, he had been with the students whilst they were training. He could imagine teaching his kids everything to do with this world, he couldn’t wait for his own leave, to spend time with his future babies but also with his loving wife.

The sound of Bakugo shouting was something else he had gotten used to; how could a 16-year-old boy be louder than the babies he had heard on those stupid pregnancy videos you made him watch. You had shown him a woman giving birth and to say it was the weirdest thing he’s ever seen; he’d happily watch stuff go inside of you but the other way round was another issue.

He stood watching over them, they had gotten a lot stronger in the months and the events that had occurred. It was another reason for the secrecy, having to hide your relationship to prevent disaster from happening. He watched the time tick away; another two more hours and he could leave and spend the rest of the trimester with you.

The sound of running caught his ears, he looked up and saw Principle Nezu walking towards him. “Agh Aizawa, we got a call from your wife’s mother.”

He hadn’t checked his phone, but if your mother had been calling it must’ve been something serious, the class had noticed the principle and had gotten quiet even Bakugo who wanted to know why the principle was here.

“Finally, you answered, she’s going into labour.” He heard on the other liner, he was in shock, his phone dropping to the side.

“Sh…She what?” It was early, of course you both knew about early pregnancies but this he had just spoken you a couple hours ago and now here you were about to go into labour.

“In labour, her water broke whilst I came to see her.” He could hear you screaming on the other side, how you must’ve been in pain, he knew you had been dilated a couple days ago but this, this was sooner than he had expected.

Nezu got the hint that something had happened and so had the class, a flash of worry across Aizawa’s face. “We’ll send the students back to the dorms.” He was calm and Aizawa quickly rushed out of the gym, leaving nothing else to say. He needed to make it to the hospital as quick as he could, in an instant he called your mother.

“Is she okay?” He had ran outside going to his car to quickly rush to the hospital.

He heard screaming which he assumed was you, “she’s grouchy…”

Before he could hear the rest of what your mother said, he heard you shout, “if that’s my idiot of a husband tell him to get to the fucking hospital.” It was a wail and he regretted not taking the day off.

“Y/n.” Her mother scowled, “we’re at the hospital, I’ll text you the room.” Is all her mother said before hanging up. Aizawa was stressed to say the least but what he hadn’t seen through the chaos was class 1A following him.

The class had seen the worry and panic before he jolted out of the room, “you all are dismissed for the day.” Nezu spoke before leaving.

“What do you think happened?” Momo questioned worried.

“He seemed in a hurry; it was probably something important.” Kirishima retorted back.

The class watched him on the phone the question of ‘is she okay?’ being heard. “Who do you think he’s talking about?” Mina asked.

“Why do you lot care so much?” Bakugo angrily said pissed that training had been cut early.

“He’s our teacher, what if something bad happened Kacchan.” Midoriya answered but it just fuelled Bakugo’s anger.

“We should follow him.” Denki suggested. “It might be serious and if people need help, we can help.”

They nodded, all assuming it had something to do with hero work, seeing Aizawa in his car, they started to follow him on foot, “we should’ve taken one of the buses.” Bakugo scowled following.

“We cant drive.” Kirishima muttered back.

Bakugo huffed following them all on the long walk, it was easy enough to keep following due to the mass traffic occurring. Aizawa having got the room number, he didn’t care for his surroundings, his eyes fixated on the road.

He finally saw the sign for the hospital and breathed out hoping you hadn’t gotten into labour yet. “Why is he at a hospital?” Ururaka questioned, “do you think someone got hurt?”

“Maybe we should go back.” Momo said not wanting to intrude on something that could have no villainous intent.

“Shut up extra’s, we’re already here.” Bakugo muttered walking to the entrance, they all followed the angry boy who glared at the children coming out of that ward.

“When did you care about the injured?” Kirishima questioned the blond.

“I don’t, you dragged me with you so now we’re staying.” For one thing the boy was persistent.

Across the hospital, Aizawa had ran to the room and saw your eyes filled with fury, your mother holding your hand as he could see how much pain you were in. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You scowled in pain.

“You can take over now.” Is all her mother said, going outside and waiting. He took her place and in an instance your hands had grabbed his.

“You must be the husband, I’ll be helping your wife, can you wear these?” The doctor spoke passing the blue overall type to keep his clothes covered, Aizawa obliged still holding your hand. “Mrs Aizawa you’re about 9cm dilated once you get to 10cm I’m going to tell you to push, okay?”

You were breathless and felt dreary, it would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the fact you were having twins. You knew you’d go through even more pain then normal and in that moment felt scared.

“Hey kitten, look at me, you’ll do amazing.” Aizawa tried to be encouraging but even he was scared for all three of you.

“It hurts.” You tried to hide the tears, but it mixed in with the sweat.

“I know kitten, but you can grab onto me as hard as you want.” He smiles moving the strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“10cm’s.” One of the nurses spoke out, the doctor nodded before looking at the angry you and calm husband.

“Mrs Aizawa you need to start pushing.” The pain was excruciating, you tried to push your grip on Aizawa’s hands becoming tighter. It was the worst pain you’d gone through and you’d been stabbed before.

Aizawa gave words of encouragement but all you wanted to do was tell him to shut up, tears cascaded down your face whilst pushing. “I see a head.” The doctor spoke, “keep pushing.”

You pushed a long with what the nurses had told you, in time to make sure you weren’t just randomly pushing. Aizawa was the first to see it, first to see the baby come out, it was quiet before wailing out loud, it was his turn to cry. The baby being placed on your chest before the doctor continued, “one more push, let’s get the other one out.”

You felt the first baby on your ski grabbing your neck as you kept on pushing, “I don’t want too.” You cried out but seeing Aizawa and how he looked at the baby on your chest you knew you needed too.

“Come on kitten, one more push.” He spoke a loud, you suppresses the tears before feeling another hard push come and the head of another baby erupt out of you. The doctor but the second baby on your chest, both their crying having stopped.

They stayed on you, you let go of Aizawas hand as the doctor told him he could cut the umbilical cord, he happily obliged before looking at the two babies that you both had created. They were smaller then normal and there eyes were tightly shut clinging onto their new mother.

“We need to weigh and clean them.” The doctor spoke as two nurses took the babies ready to put tags on them, the oldest had been a boy and the youngest a girl. You missed there touch and hold wanting to hold them again but watching them being taken out.

“We did it.” You spoke sleepily as you felt yourself being cleaned up and ready to be moved into another room.

“Yeah, we did.” Aizawa spoke going in to kiss your temple, “we’re parents.”

Tears brimmed his eyes; this normal dry flat facial features had become happier and all he could think about was how you looked with his two children. How he had gotten a family that he had never expected to have had.

Being moved to a different room, Aizawa followed sitting on the chair beside you. You saw the two babies come back to you both, in an instance they were placed back into your arms. “You can hold them?”

You had seen Aizawa’s hesitance to even touch the babies, but he knew how to do it and with ease they both were situated in his arms. You could hear your mother outside, she seemed to be talking to some people, but you ignored it watching at how Aizawa’s eyes welled up at the two babies.

“Where are my grandchildren?” Your mother spoke a loud before having heart eyes at how Aizawa was holding your babies.

“Mum, please be quieter.”

“Hey, I had to handle your screams, let me be happy, they look adorable with their father.” She spoke moving to the bed.

“They really do.” You both watched him look at the two children, a tear falling from his face.

Your mother turned back to you and she smiled at you, “I’m proud of you.” You give a nod holding her hand before she speaks, “have you two got any na…”

Before she could continue you hear the door open with the doctor coming in, “it seems you two have more visitors.”

You were both confused on the matter, nobody really knew you had gone into pregnancy except your parents and his and your father was still at work whilst his parents were out of town. It was unexpected but your eyes widen when you see the group of 16-year olds.

“They were wondering around the hospital.” The doctor speaks, Aizawa hadn’t noticed his students, but you and your mother had.

The kids were in shock at seeing a pro hero in a hospital bed but there eyes went to Aizawa’s he had been looking at his babies, unaware of his surroundings.

Nobody spoke instead just watching Aizawa interact with the two new-born babies, a smile placed on his normal flat self. “Did he steal two babies?” You hear one of them whisper, you instantly begin to speak after that.

“Shouta.” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He was so out of dazed but once he turns to face them all, he’s in shock as well.

“I’ll leave you to handle this.” Your mother leaves not wanting to have to explain this scenario.

Aizawa was still in shock, you reach out for one of the babies, he passes you the youngest, who starts to grab at your fingers. He sits holding the boy, before the class start cascading you both in questions.

“Are they yours?”, “How do you know Pro Hero Y/n?”, “Who is she to you?”

Aizawa looks at them and then at his family, you nod a sign that he could tell them everything, “This is my wife, and these are our new kids.”

It was a simple but effective, the class in shock that there homeroom teacher who seemed to be detached had you the loving pro hero as a wife, but even more now had two kids.

“Congratulations.” They all spoke a loud. It was rehearsed and you could tell that it all came out due to shock.

“What are you doing here anyway, I thought we said go back to the dorms.” Aizawa scowled.

“Baby, it’s fine, it’s good they found out anyway, since you wont be teaching them for a bit.” You calmed the man down.

He shakes his head at how easily you calmed him down, “you’re an amazing pro hero.” Midoriya spoke a loud, you thanked him before they didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll go call Nezu, he can get you back to UA.” Aizawa muttered handing you the other child as he left the room.

“You married Aizawa.” Mina spoke a loud everybody looked at her, “what? We were all thinking it?”

You laugh looking at them all, “yes I did.”

“And you slept with him.” Mina continued with ever more eyes growing wider.

You continued to laugh, “that is how I got pregnant.”

“What are their names?” Ururaka asked coming towards the two kids.

You sat upright, letting them have a closer look, they all came forward even Bakugo who saw children as devils spawn. They were fresh out and anew, so pure and innocent as they tugged onto your hair.

“We haven’t decided yet.” You said looking at the two kids, you notice Aizawa at the door looking at the class as they surrounded you and the babies. The way they were quieter than they had ever been around two new-borns, they spent time asking questions and looking at the two babies. Before being dragged back to UA, all smiling happily at having spent the afternoon with two new-borns.

“They look like you.” You mutter sleepily, the two babies being put to sleep on the other sides of the room. “We made them.”

“I love you.” He whispers kissing you softly, you kiss back, happily at the new family you had and Aizawa finally realised what his happiness was. You and your two babies were all he ever needed now.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[katyldamusic]

Maneskin for Radio ZET: People tried to stop us, because rock is not mainstream.

Interview for polish radio station Radio ZET they did during Sopot Festival 26.06.2021.

They started out as buskers by playing in the streets of Rome and now all of Europe is singing their songs. The Italian band Maneskin a few weeks ago won the Eurovision Song Contest in Rotterdam and entered the European music market with a bang. Now the musicians have visited Poland for the first time to perform at the Sopot Hit Festival. On this occasion, they talked to Radio ZET.

Q: This is your first time in Poland, so I am very happy that you are with us on Radio ZET. Let me start with the question: how do you feel in our country?

Damiano: We had a very warm welcome. We could see how many fans we have in Poland. I think that's great.

Q: So you feel like stars? Damiano and Victoria: Yes! (laugh)

Q: I was wondering who exactly Maneskin IS. I am curious how would you define yourself? Victoria: Honestly, I don't know. It seems to me that our music speaks best for us. Better than words. Therefore, if someone would like to know what we are, who we are, they should listen to our songs.

Q: So what do you want to show by what you create? Victoria: Well, we are trying to carry the message of freedom. We believe that self-expression is very important. I also think that being authentic plays a big role here. We had a lot of problems because of the music we make. In Italy, a lot of people wanted to stop us, saying that rock is not mainstream, it is not played on the radio.

Q: And then you proved them wrong. After all, you won this year's Eurovision. This is a gigantic success! Victoria and Damiano: Exactly.

Q: After performing at huge Eurovision stage, do you still feel stress before entering smaller scenes? For example, such as the one at the Polsat Super Hit Festival? Damiano: Oh, no, no. My God. Playing a live show is always something great for us. Of course, Eurovision was a unique experience, but it was an event focused exclusively on television. And that's not what we love the most. We perform best when we see people in the audience, in front of the stage.

Q: Are there any ways to win Eurovision? Damiano: Just be yourself. Victoria: Exactly. Damiano: You have to show your real self on stage. Don't try to fit in.

Q: Lately I've been listening to your music. Then the question popped into my head, do you prefer to record songs in English or in Italian? Victoria: Both. However, since now we have a chance to reach an international audience, maybe we will focus more on the English language. Creating in english has always attracted us. In Italy, however, we were told not to. Italian music works better on the Italian Peninsula. However now, we have a chance to experiment.

Q: Your song has now become a hit on TikTok. Do you know about it? How do you feel about it? Damiano: It's really great! Just great.

Q: And please tell me - do you know any Polish artists? Damiano and Victoria: Not so much.

Q: Maybe Rafał Brzozowski? He represented Poland in this year's esc. Victoria: Ah! Of course we know Rafał.

Q: I wonder what is your next goal? I've been thinking about it lately because winning the Eurovision Song Contest is a big achievement. Additionally, I have listened to your other interviews and you said that you are making your dreams come true and you don't want to focus too much on the future. But, to be honest, I feel you must know what you want to focus on now, have your next goal set. Damiano: Yes, now we want to focus primarily on music. The process of its creation. We feel that it is the most important. We want to be associated with it. We are planning just to share our music. We'll see where it takes us.

Q: Who, then, inspires youn when you are creating new things? Victoria: Lots of bands. Damiano: We draw inspiration from the legendary artists of the 70s because they showed how great the potential of the bands is. How much can they achieve. We are talking about Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones and many other fantastic bands. However, when it comes to more contemporary artists, Arctic Monkeys are our idols. Idles and Royal Blood. We draw a lot of inspiration from them because we feel that what they create is firstly remarkable and secondly because they are true to the idea of ​​rock and roll. Thanks to them that rock and roll reappeared on the charts.

Q: Thank you very much for finding the time for the interview. Damiano: Thank you! Victoria: Thank you for inviting us.

[readersperspective]

Writing Advice Bilingual Characters

As some of you (who read my reviews) already might have noticed, I am bilingual myself. Sadly, multilingual people do not get represented well a lot in media, so yeah... some advice for writing them. It will certainly not capture every aspect of being bilingual, but it might give you a first idea.

There are different ways to be multilingual.

People who grew up with more than one native language will almost certainly speak all of them fluently. Most of them have two (their parents’ language and their country’s language, or the language of one parent and of the other) but I also know a family where the children grew up with four native languages (the mother speaks Portuguese, the father Italian, they talk to each other in English, and live in Germany, where the children grew up)

Some people speak two or more languages, but cannot write all of them - especially when the alphabets are not the same, for example English and Russian or Arabic. This affects mostly children of immigrants.

Some people can read and write a language quite well, but are not good at speaking or listening comprehension. Those people often learned the language at school with a bad teacher or by themselves with books and apps.

Some people, again mostly children and grandchildren of immigrants, can read and understand a language, but don’t speak it. Mostly, the parents decided to not teach the child the language, and they learned it themselves by listening to their parents talk to relatives.

Confidence can play a big role in this. I understand the dialect of my grandparents without a problem, but I would never try to speak it. I can’t even imagine forming those words with my mouth, and it would sound terrible.

People who learnt a language at school can reach completely different levels of that language. I started learning English at age 6 and am completely fluent by now. Other people in my class barely understand more than easy conversations in English.

Most people will do their very best to hide their accents.

If the person is not a native speaker, but fluent in a language, their accent will be a mix of whatever they can find at the moment. Media is a big influence in that.

Since I watch more British than American TV, my accent sounds a bit british, too. When I watched “Call the Midwife”, I often even unconciously copy the accent of Laura Main. I don’t know why her, but my brain just liked it, I guess.

Also, we will use words, phrases and sentence structures from so many different sources.

People who learnt English through the internet (aka most of the younger generation) will have problems to not use swear words when actually being in Great Britain or America. They just do not have the weight for us, since on the internet they get used all the time.

I have never in my whole live heard a multilingual person switch languages mid-sentence on accident.

We will do it on purpose, though, if the other part of the conversation understands both languages.

Also, we will maybe say the word in another language if we forget the meaning.

Multilingual people that are not natives in the language they usually use in their day-to-day life (immigrants, for example) will often count and calculate in their native language. For example at a restaurant where they calculate the price in their head, they will probably do it in their native language.

Conversations with multiple multilingual people can be very different.

If one person only understands one language, they will probably try to include that person by speaking the language they share. I can say from experience, though, that if eight native Germans that have varying levels of English language skills will sit together with one introverted Turkish person with medium English language skills, they will go back to German quite often. It’s not nice, but sadly natural.

In general, people will try to speak in their native language if possible. You can take two people that share a native language and also both speak English and let them walk around in London - they will probably speak their native language, no matter how well they speak English.

Multilingual people that share multiple languages will switch on purpose when they feel like they can express their thoughts better in the other language.

Many languages have taken words from English.

Especially young people take a lot of English filler words and phrases (or insults) and put them into their native language. “Help, mein Deutschlehrer überfordert uns mit Hausaufgaben, like, what the fuck, glaubt der wir haben nichts besseres zu tun?” Is a sentence you would absolutely hear from a German student.

Many young people that don’t live in Great Britain or America will not use these words and phrases around their parents. First of all, our parents often do not speak English as well as we do, but more importantly, our parents do not like us using English instead of ur native language.

Many professions nowadays have an English name, I don’t know why. What used to be a Hausmeister is now a Facility Manager. The longer the English phrase for your profession, the more likely you will not be taken serious by older people.

Once you have more than one native language, you learn new languages more easily, for some reason. I know a girl that speaks 7 languages, at age 20, 5 of them fluently.

"You speak English quite well” or phrases like that said by a native speaker can be the best compliment ever, or more uncomfortable than nice.

When you are translating for your family and hear that sentence, it is super nice.

When you are only speaking English, that sentence indicates that your accent is still heavy. You do not pass as a native speaker.

When you are a native speaker, that sentence is just weird.

You can indentify the people that learnt a language through reading by giving them words that are pronounced untypically.

For years I thought “precious” (a word that is heavily used on the internet, especially in fan communities, but not that much in school) was pronounces pree-ci-ous. I was shocked when I heard it for the first time.

There are situations where even quite fluent non-native speakers will not be able to understand or talk in their second language.

The first few minutes after standing up (although that can change when the person is really fluent)

When they are in great pain

When they are in great fear

When they are under great stress

Sometimes even when they did not use that language in the last few days

Translating in realtime is terribly hard and will fuck your head. When I was on holiday with my parents, I often had to read the information signs in museums or at sights for them and translate. It’s easier when you first read the text and then summarise it in another language, but trying to translate it sentence by sentence is painful and you will question your abilities in both languages.

This gets just more horrible when under pressure. While we were in England, a visibly stressed young woman came to us and asked us if we had 5 pounds, she had lost some money she needed to take the train back home. I repeated her sentence to my father. In English.

Also sorry to the poor worker at McDonalds who I talked English to while speaking German to my English exchange student.

People abroad will absolutely become friends with every person that they hear speaking their language. While being in London, we overheard a man talking to his son in German about taking a photo, and I immediately asked (in German) if I should take a photo of both of them together. We talked for fifteen minutes after that, even though we had never met before.

On that note, in tourist citys the people that try to sell things to tourists usually speak a lot of languages enough to say things like “Oh, I speak a bit of [language], too, but not well. Didn’t pay enough attention in school. You look like nice people.” Makes it so easy to sell things.

Idioms are literally hell. Best example has been in the news currently, with Greta Thunberg literally translating a Swedish idiom in a tweet not realising that “putting someone against a wall” means something totally different in English. 

Idioms will be hell for you as a writer, too, though, as long as you do not fluently speak both of the languages or at least one of them is fictional, because it’s quite easy to mess up if you use idioms that jus aren’t normally used by people speaking that language.

Bilingual puns are amazing, but sadly rare.

Those are the things I thought of first... Maybe you can find some ideas or inspiration there for your characters, too. The best thing of course is to let someone proof-read your character if you are uncertain, but this hopefully already helped you a bit!

[meichenxi]

Hi!! I'm a college student about to graduate and my dream is to teach English in China and I was wondering if you could somehow help me and give me some advice. I have been studying Chinese during my years at university (and I love your blog!), along with my physics degree. I don't know if any of this is relevant but my level of Mandarin is not very high (HSK3), I study in the UK and I'm planning to get a TEFL 120 hour certification in June. Is this a solid plan? Love your blog, Isa

Hiii! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I have my final exams at the moment and am on semi-hiatus. First, what an amazing dream!! You'll have a wonderful time :D

SO in general having a degree not in English language and a TEFL certificate is most definitely enough to secure you a job, but at the moment it is a rather 'special period', as every job advert says, and so finding a job is a little trickier because of visa problems.

Basically, there are no work or study visas available at the moment for people from the UK. The only people who can get into China are those who the Chinese Embassy deems 'foreign experts' and therefore 'crucial to China's progress', and your company or school will have to provide something called a PU letter. This grants you the ability to actually apply for the work visa, though itself doesn't grant it. At the moment there aren't that many companies available who can offer that.

Because of this, I'd recommend going through a recruitment company. I do not necessarily mean a graduate scheme (the ones advertised as such are not very well paid and you don't have much control over where you go), but a recruitment company. You can find these on any general site if you google 'ESL jobs China'.

In terms of actual jobs - generally speaking there are three categories, private language schools, state schools, and international schools. International schools are by far the best in terms of packages, but they rarely take graduates without 3 years of teaching experience. The good news is that if you do find somebody who is looking for recent grads (if you go to a particularly prestigious university like Oxbridge, for instance), you might be able to teach Physics or Science rather than English language. International schools will also be the easiest to deal with in terms of communication and visa applications, but the competition is quite stiff, and most people who apply will be teachers in their home countries already.

State schools are another good option if you want 'normal' teaching hours, good holidays, and older children. The position I have next year is in a good state school that has two programs, the Canadian curriculum and the GaoKao (the Chinese university entrance exam). The main disadvantage is that you may be the only foreigner in the school, and communication might be difficult. I don't just mean with Chinese but in general: you will be not told things, you will be excluded, you will turn up to your class and find someone else teaching it and be told just to go back to your office. If you can be flexible and have an open mind, state schools are great, but they may be quite exhausting especially if this is your first time in China. You will also have to teach to exams, and the curriculum might be tight. For me personally though, I would much rather teach in a state school than the next option -

Which is private language schools. These are very good - sometimes. This is the main problem: the quality of the schools, the teaching, and the ethos all vary from school to school. You may be teaching very young children, and you may be teaching exclusively in the evening. The schools may be very supportive of creativity in the classroom, or you may be literally forced to teach the flashcards they give you. The plus about these schools is that they often have competitive relocation packages, are not too bothered about how experienced (or not) you are, and that there will be a community of other English speaking colleagues (natives and not) to help you integrate.

The reason I add this is that it's so, so important. It's very laudable and easy to wish for immersion and want to make Chinese friends - and you should!! - but living in another country without easy access to internet you are used to can be exhausting at times and even the staunchest believer in immersion is going to be stressed and tired and teary far from home. Having colleagues who want to improve their English can also be a good basis for a (somewhat awkward at first) friendship.

Some general tips: brush up on your English grammar. Seriously. Because the amount of teachers who have no idea and bluff their way through it is shocking and disrespects those who try very hard to make it a proper profession. Also having students ask you when you use the present perfect continuous and the present perfect simple and not knowing the answer is a very special kind of pain!! I'd recommend bringing a reputable grammar book with you, and using it when making your lesson plans.

Re Chinese: if you already have a little, your Chinese will improve so much when you're there!! Don't stress about it because China is a wonderful environment for learning - it's literally perfect, few people speak English and EVERYBODY wants to speak to you as many people are direct and very curious - but at the same time, the more you can learn, the easier it will be. Don't neglect your characters!! Learning useful menu characters and signs will be hugely helpful too. You won't need Chinese in your job really, but you definitely will in your daily life, so well done for learning and keep at it!!

The other thing I would say is: sort out your music and your social media and your banking before going to China. This includes a good VPN. You can't download apps on the google App Store, and to make the transition to the Chinese internet easier, I'd recommend getting a Weibo account, any music app, Baidu translate and maps and so on, and accustoming yourself to that before going.

Re where you are going and the package: you should have your flight paid, help with your visa, and transparency about quarantine procedures. You should also have accommodation or an accommodation allowance of between 2000-5000 (2000 is more than fine). Public or international schools may pay for your food during school-time as well. Re cities: prioritise what is important to you. If you want to save, bear in mind that China is extraordinarily cheap and that even in places like Shanghai, you can still save a lot if you live somewhat sensibly. To give you some context: I lived in Tianjin, a second-tier city, and I got 'pocket money' of 2000 every month (with accommodation and food paid), and I managed to save enough to do martial arts for a month at an academy after 5 months. And I was living well - going out about twice a week, taking taxis, eating out almost every evening (cheap food). So don't prioritise one position over another solely because of money, and also bear in mind kindergarten teachers may only be getting about 2000-3000 a month - so regardless of whether you earn 10,000 or 15,000, it's a) SIGNIFICANTLY enough to live very well and save very well too, and b) considerably more than many of your coworkers will be earning.

Also, different cities have different costs of living: 10,000 somewhere like Hangzhou will go considerably further than 16,000 in Shanghai. Another thing to bear in mind is the air quality, and the environment, and the access to green spaces. DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THIS. If this is important to you, go somewhere smaller or in the south with access to nature - I nearly went crazy living in such a big city with such poor air quality. The positions I had to choose between were one in Shanghai, better paid and at a better school, and a position in Zhuhai in a campus in the mountains, in a third-tier city by the sea. I know now how important green is to me, how much I prefer a more relaxed pace of life, and so I chose the latter.

Lastly, don't be intimidating and don't be afraid to ask questions about your job. Make sure that everything they say is in the contract, in both the English version and the Chinese version. This is important because only the Chinese version is legal, so if you have a friend, get them to check that the same stuff is in each bit of the contract. Communication might be difficult, but don't be afraid to be direct and press for answers, don't just accept what you're told. You might be messed around with a bit, so it's important to 'shop around' for positions - don't feel bad if you do so, and don't be afraid to turn things down that don't suit. Finally, don't feel terrified if you can't find information about a school online - a lot of stuff isn't on Google, and will also be better accessed via WeChat or mini programs. Not finding information about your school or city does not mean it doesn't exist!!

So be prepared for a wild ride - and enjoy! If you have any more questions about any of this, please feel free to ask at any time!

meichenxi out :P

[kailedger]

for all the YOI fanfic authors

I’ve been reading a lot of fanfics in this particular fandom and, as a Russian, there’s like... little things that constantly bother me. Don’t get me wrong, the works are amazing, but every time I see this little innacurate details in a really good piece I’m like... slightly dissapointed lol

So here’s a couple things from a native speaker and someone who actually lives in Russia. (Also pardon my grammar, since English is not my first language).

NAMES. I couldn't stress it more, honestly. Here's the thing: most of Russian names have a full version and a short version. For example Victor (or Viktor, whichever you prefer) is the full version and Vitya is the short version. Sometimes I see authors using the short version, but most of the time it's described as something unusual (like Victor gets TOO excited to hear it from Yuuri). But in real life everyone in Russia will call him Vitya. It's not a big deal, the closest equivalent I can think of is this: if you wanna adress someone as Ms. or Mr., you can use the full name, but if two people are on the first name basis, in Russia they most likely will use the short version. So, like, Yakov, Yurio, Mila, Georgi will definitely call him Vitya (as I recall, in anime Yakov actually does? Or have I been reading too much fanfiction?). 

If it's an official kind of thing (for example, press meetings etc.) Victor can be adressed by his full name, sometimes even with his paternal name. (Paternal names in Russia is a whole other thing, pretty close to second names, but a little bit different. We always adress elder people like teachers with both full name and paternal name). I actually think Victor would adress Yakov with his paternal name, but that heavely depends in their relationship (honestly, Victor has like zero chill, so I wouldn't put it past behind him to have no respect in this matter lol). 

Oh, and Yurio's name is a mess in most fanfics. The full name would be Yuri, the short version is Yura. Since Otabek is from Kazakzstan, there's a very high chance he's actually fluent in Russian, so he would definitely use "Yura". The cutesy dimunitive would be Yurochka (not Yuratchka as it's stated in the anime subtitles), but it's only appropriate to use with a big age difference (like Yurio's granpa calling him that) or in a really sweet manner, to a point of being almost nauseating. (BTW, dimunitive from Vitya is Viten'ka). 

Mila's full name doesn't actually have a short version, but if you're looking for a dimunitive it's Milochka (which is also the same word for "darling" in Russian, and this version can be kind of sarcastic, so be careful with it). 

Georgi... Oh my God, where do I start lol. There's like two common short versions: Zhora or Gosha (sometimes even Goga, we have a very popular movie quote with this name, it's like a well-known joke for Russians).

Pet names. That's a whole other different level of hell. I often see people writing Victor using pet names, sometimes it's good, most of the times it makes me go "He would never use that, please, stop". 

"Zolotse" as in "gold" is actually a pretty good one - altough it's a little conservative and not often used, it has a personal meaning for Victor and Yuuri and isn't, you know... cringy. But for the love of God, don't use "krasavchik" (handsome guy) or "detka" (baby), it's just... no. Miliy (darling), lyubov moya or lyubimiy (my love) are pretty good. A little too sweet for my taste, but I actually think it's appropriate for Victor since he's clingy lol.

Accents. So here's the thing. I lived my whole life in Russia, I learned English through some additional courses (not very advanced) and watching a lot of american/english tv-shows and movies and reading literature in english. When I had the chance to talk to native speakers (one was from Boston, I believe, and also a bunch of people in England when I went on a vacation there), most of them said that I barely had any accent at all. 

Victor presumably has been participating in international events from a very young age. My point is - sure, he can have an accent, but in my opinion it's not gonna be very distinctive. Unless he's specifically speaking in a broken English, but, like, why would he do that? On the other hand, Yurio and Mila are both pretty young, so it would actually make sense for them to have an accent or even have trouble speaking English.

Customs and traditions. Pretty sure most people know it already, but in Russia we do wear our wedding rings on the right hand. Has something to do with our main religion being eastern orthodox church. 

We don't usually celebrate Christmas. Our Christmas is on 7th of January and it's a pretty religious holiday, most of us barely acknowledge it. So 25th of December is not a holiday in Russia. But! New Year is the biggest holiday for the whole country. We celebrate it starting from 31st of December, and the celebration itself usually involves the New Year tree, champange, tangerines and a whole bunch of salads. We have official holidays from 31st of December all the way to 7th on January (some years even 8th or 9th). So it's a whole week of celebration where people usually get drunk a lot lol. 

The stereotype about russians drinking a lot is not exactly a sterotype tbh. We DO drink a lot, not all of us, of course, but still. And yeah - vodka is pretty common since you can find it really cheap and it doesn't have a particular taste or smell (if you don't count the smell and taste of alcohol itself). But I, for example, prefer rum in my cocktails, so it's like a preference thing. 

Not exactly a tradition or custom, but still fits here. Yeah, it can get pretty cold in Russia, especially in winter or late fall. But this winter (of 2019-2020) was pretty mild honestly, not a lot of snow and the temperature was rarely below -10 degrees celcium. And our summers can get unbearebly hot. Since the humidity in St. Petersburg is very high, it makes the hot weather even worse. Oh, yeah, and in St. P it rains A LOT. The city itself is pretty gloomy and dark, but that's kind of part of it's charm if you're into this kind of thing (some people are not, I've got a lot of friends from Moscow who hate St. P for being so moody). 

Russia is also pretty big. The travel from St. P to Moscow is from 4 to 12 hours on train (depends on what train you're on) or 1.5 hour on plane. But both of those cities are in the western part of the country. Vladivostok (the city on the eastern coast) is actually closer to Japan than it's to St. P or Moscow (2 hour flight to Japan, 45 hour flight to St. P, crazy, right?)

Homophobia. Kinda heavy topic, beware. Russia is a homophobic country. Not to the point of same-sex relationship being a criminal offence, but propaganda, as our authorities would call it, is an administrative offence. And the court can judge A LOT of your actions as a propaganda, especially if you’re a public person. I mostly prefer to not dwell on this topic in fanfiction, I think even the creators of anime itself stated that there’s no homophobia in YOI world, so best stick to it, I guess? But if you wanna go for something realistic, here’s how it would have been in Russia. If Victor EVER publicly acknolewged being in a relationship with another man (like... kissing one on a national televion, ya know), he would be heavely criticized. There would still be supporters, people who would say that it doesn’t matter, what his personal life is like, but there would be a lot of backlash, especially on official level. Which would make his life in Russia pretty miserable tbh. He would most likely lose a majority of his sponsorships in Russia, there’s even a high chance of administrative penalty (since he’s a public person). That’s really sad and makes me very, very angry, but, unfortunatly, that’s the reality. Oh, and same-sex marriage is illegal in Russia, in case that wasn’t clear. 

Phew, that was a lot, and I think I haven’t covered all that I wanted to lol. But in case you have any question, feel free to ask!

p.s.: part two, if you’re interested: https://kailedger.tumblr.com/post/621623611041759232/for-all-the-yoi-fanfic-author-p2

[mahvaladara]

For the OC questions (Sorry for being so late, been a busy.. gaming wise, weekend!) 90-100 for Mal 1-10 for Annika 20-30 for Maeve 40-50 for a teenage Syra perhaps?

[Ga]Mal[l] Sullyvan

90. What is their occupation?

Gamall is a full-time Wanderer, which is a type of Valasyr who specializes in wandering between cities, countries, planets, and even universes seeking to harness as much knowledge and power as possible. They are also often called knowledge and power devourers.

Currently, Gamall is a full-time Biologist and freelance Gardener.

91. Do other characters respect your OC, if so, is it out of fear? Or do they respect your OC because they like them?

Depends. His family respects him dearly. From where he came he was respected out of utter fear. But those days are in the past and he is living a new life and earning respect by hard labor.

92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say?

Gamall once was in this position, and he had wanted back then to see his former wife Caitlyn and former son Seimei before disappearing. He went and got a few last minutes with them, but he didn't die. He wished he did. For time came to claim Caitlyn eventually, and as for Seimei, he killed the boy when he came seeking "revenge" for the death of his father.

He now has come to the conclusion that if death ever comes for him, it's not like he can prepare for it. So he lives every day as if he only had minutes to live, seeking to amass as much fulfillment as he can, rather by the form of material goods, personal knowledge, spiritual power, hedonistic pleasure, or life experiences.

93. How do they deal with stress?

Gamall is already quite the shittalker and blabbermouth, but when under stress that becomes worse. But he is paradoxal and it mostly depends on the type of stress, it can either be met with agression or silence and either of the two are always foreboding.

94. Do they have a more submissive or dominate personality type?

Versatile personality. Gamall adapts well to the people around him, but he is not a pushover and he despises whoever tries to dominate him by force. He does enjoys playing the sub as much as the dom and though Gamall can actually be very manipulative, it is not on his interests to dominate or command others, usually his manipulation only working to make sure people don't bother him.

95. Do they have a pet?

Currently no. But they'll have a lot of chickens and a lot of cows.

Gamall used to have a horse called Eggplant, but there's a running gag that if he gets a horse it'll die, so... yea, that happened.

96. Do they have a stash of weapons?

Pffft. They don't exactly need too, they can kill you with their mind alone, but this is the type of asshole who will kill you with a duck if you tell him he can't.

97. Where do they live? Who do they live with?

The farmlands. Gamall isn't keen on big cities or places with a lot of people around because it usually means trouble and pain for him and he'd rather not.

98. How do they calm themselves down?

Depends. He has found out that addressing a fireball to whom it may concern is a great way to calm down, but he can't exactly commit capital murder everytime someone annoys him. Gardening currently has been providing him a lot of calm and quiet he needs.

99. Are they co-dependent?

No.

100. Are they a day, or night person?

Night person, it helps that he doesn't need sleep.

1. How do they present themselves to others?

Anika comes off as a smart, kind and fun girl, your level-headed rich girl who's always had everything she needed.

To her dad however, she's a rebelious teenager finally breaking free from a sheltered and controled life. She is finally learning magic rather he wants her to or not and continuing on his footsteps trying to find a way to return Apollo's heart and find a way to save Arlo.

2. Do they like animals?

Yes. Anika had a cat as a child, but due to her mother's illness she had to give away the cat. After her mother passed away, Anika and Apollo adopted a dog. Anika ended up being the one to keep the dog, since Arlo hurt their dog when they tried to take it to Apollo's home.

3. How do they dress?

Anika dresses in a very sporty rich way. She prefers wearing high end sports clothes, leggings, crop tops and track suits, anything she can move well in and exercise in. Sometimes she pairs them with fishnets and accessories that give her a more sporty witch feel.

4. How many languages do they know?

Anika speaks english and spanish.

5. How big is their family?

Currently it's just her and her father. Her mother used to be around but she was killed by an unknown dragon who her father refuses to name.

6. What is their purpose in the story?

Anika is Apollo's best friend and girlfriend, she is also a witch and a dragon hunter, who is currently aiding Apollo in finding a cure for Arlo's rot the same way her father before sought her mothers. After her mother's death, Anika decided she had a duty to Apollo to help him save her brother, as it was Anika who lured Arlo to the trap.

7. Do they know how to fight?

Anika is petite, but Anika can kick your ass. Her father taught her kickboxing.

8. What is their back story?

Anika is the only daughter of Isaiah and Melantha Lorenn, she moved with her father to Windenburg when he was offered a position as a principle at the school. She lived a pretty uneventful life despite her father's side work as a dragon hunter and spellcaster. Anika herself was a powerful spellcaster but her father kept her away from the major things he was doing. Eventually, Anika fell to a trick to capture the two child dragons, her best friend Apollo and Arlo.

9. Why is their name, their name?

I really liked the sound of Anika, and since Isaiah and Melantha also had unique names, I wanted Anika to have a name that would feel like she's a girl born into the 1%.

10. Do they have any nick names?

Ani, by Apollo, Queen B(itch) by Arlo. Princess by many of her school peers.

20. What do they look like?

See thee above.

21. What are their hobbies?

Maeve's hobbies include watching football and baseball games, writting research law papers, cooking and working out.

22. What are their ticks?

Their what?

23. Do they like children?

Maeve has five children, her eldest twins Arlo and Apollo, her middle daughter, Syracusia, and her youngest twins Talia and Dimitri.

24. How do they react to being around wild animals?

Maeve is pretty brave and adventurous but as most people she tends to avoid wild foxes and other animals.

25. If they were given the task to prank someone, who would it be, what would they do, and would the prank work?

It would be Mal and it would be the yelling "I feel good!" prank when he was busy spraying bugs, doing the laundry or when he's vacumming.

26. Do they have any survival skills?

Yes, she can pitch a tent, filter water and cook most wilderness food. She also knows how to hunt, since her father enjoyed hunting pigeons, ducks and rabbits. She knows how to make a snare trap.

27. Are they more book smart or street smart?

50/50. She's very book smart when it comes to education and law, but has a lot of street smart when dealing with her clients, and the cases she has. She knows what the jury are more likely to simpathise with and usually builds her case defense around this.

28. How do they get out of a difficult situation?

Usually by trying to solve it. If she can't solve it, she asks for help, but she is not one to run away from a situation.

29. Do they use their body, mind, personality or force to get what they want?

Personality and smarts.

30. What music do they enjoy?

Maeve enjoys rock, old school rock and roll.

40. How do they become who they are?

Syra is the lucky three. She has a very calm and uneventfull life despite what luck befalls are siblings, and she is lucky to get two younger siblings, so she never got very cotroling parents breathing over her shoulder, so she was allowed to be herself. She has a very supporting father in Mal, who supports her every decision, and a big brother who loves her and whenever he is well, Arlo will go with her to do whatever she wants.

41. How was their childhood?

She had a happy childhood. Though they moved when she was a kid, she was young enough for it to not cause a negative impact on her growing up. At the contrary of her older siblings, Syra wasn't forced to go to a private school, and being in public school allowed her to be a regular girl without the pressure of being examplar.

42. Are they close with anyone who is going to screw them over?

One of her friends is a mooch, who's only around her to get good grades and to steal her stuff, she doesn't know this yet.

43.How do they adapt to different situations? Do they adapt at all?

Syra adapts pretty well to her surroundings and situations. She's a versatile girl who knows she has parents and siblings who will help her if she needs.

44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft spoken, hot heated, vulgar

Syra is soft spoken, quiet and calm.

45. Are they opposed to violence?

Very much. Syra grew up watching her two older brothers getting into very violent altercations, especially when Arlo was feeling well. She usually would get in the middle of the two. She now knows why they'd fight.

46. When is their birthday?

Syra was born in Autumn, I think.

47. Are they quick to judge?

Not really. Syra is very empathetic.

48. Do they have anything they are trying to hide from others?

No.

49. Do they act different around different people?

No.

50.Do they enjoy the arts?

Syra enjoys theater, film and music.

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 8

A young man walked in.  His hair was dark, the style conservative.  The only thing that stood out about him was his high-collared jacket.

Aizawa knows who this man is, for much the same reasons that Uraraka knew Skyrunner.  

Fidelity had literally written the book on underground heroism. It hadn’t been published until his death.  

The lights flickered.  The murmuring of the shadows rose, then cut off abruptly, the shadows disappearing along with Nana.  The projector screen changed.  It now read:

Greetings 9’s Friends!  (And teacher.)

“This was my last mission briefing before I died,” said the young man.  “At least, that’s what I’d say if I was really Fidelity.”

“You’re saying you aren’t,” said Aizawa, keeping his voice level.  

The screen behind him changed to read Vestiges: what you need to know.

“I am based on Fidelity.  I’m also based on Railgun.”

“The hero who took down Destro?” asked Uraraka, clenching her fists and briefly floating in excitement.  

Why was she not getting a better grade in history?  

“Not exactly.  He wasn’t actually captured until years later.”

“But you broke his charge, his army!  And all by yourself!”

“Railgun did, yes.  I’ve put together a little presentation for you guys.  Hope you don’t mind.  We all figured you wouldn’t want to go any further without an explanation of sorts.”  He said this all with an enviably flat voice, despite his friendly words.  His body language was controlled and to the point.

Darn Midoriya for managing to build a fantasy that was so close to what Aizawa had always imagined the man to be like.  

(He was not a fan of Fidelity.  Underground heroes did not have fans.  It defeated the point.)

(He pointedly ignored his memories of the bootleg Eraserhead merchandise Midoriya and Yamada had snuck to Eri.)

“You’d be right,” said Aizawa.

“Cool,” said Six.  “Before we begin, I want you to understand that much of what I’m going to tell you will be a lie.”

“What?” said Iida, confused.  “Then what’s the point?”

“The point is, there will be enough truth in it to get you through this safely, and enough falsehood to prevent the commission from taking advantage of Nine later, should they be watching what’s happening here with a quirk we can’t detect.”

“Nine?”  

“Izuku,” clarified Six.  

“Who you called Nine because…?”

“If we count in order of when we were supposedly born, he’s the ninth.  Although, really, he’s the first.  I’ll explain in a moment.”  He pointed to the screen.  “We call ourselves vestiges, and, like I said, we are all based on real people.  We’re part of Nine’s quirk.”  The screen switched to show Midoriya with eight shadowy figures behind him.  “I want to stress that Nine wasn’t aware of us until the sports festival. Specifically…”

The screen now showed Midoriya’s fight with Hitoshi, right before he broke his fingers.  Aizawa recognized the image as a still from one of the cameras.  Except those eight shadows were there as well, right in front of Midoriya.  

“You had something to do with him breaking his fingers and getting out of Shinsou’s quirk.”

“We don’t mix well with mental quirks, apparently. Nine minds all together at once are too many, even if eight of them are fictional.  It’s an interesting side effect.  Speaking of which.”

The new slide was a picture.  An edited picture.  Of a person giving a presentation.  

“Is that a meme?” asked Todoroki.

“Yes,” said Six.  

The slide read, You were never in All Might’s mind.  Nine was just confused.

That meme was so old Aizawa could feel himself taking psychic damage just by looking at it.  

“You’ve been passing through our, the vestiges’, mindscapes. Eight is simply based on All Might.”

That would be a relief, if not for the fact that that Six had admitted he was going to lie.  Also, there was something off about the whole explanation.  

Iida raised his hand.  “Excuse me!  You claim that you are part of Midoriya’s quirk, but you haven’t explained how!”

“I’m getting to that,” said Six.  “Todoroki-san, you’re the one who is always saying how similar Nine and All Might’s quirks are.  Do you have any theories?”

Todoroki’s eyes lit up, even though he kept his habitual deadpan expression.  “Midoriya is All Might’s secret—”

“We wish, but sadly no.  Pick a different one.”

Todoroki looked devastated.  He collected himself quickly, however.  “Midoriya’s strength,” he said, “he got it from All Might, didn’t he?”

“Yes.  Eight is a bit of a complicated case, since he’s based on someone who is alive and Nine knows personally, but in the end, he’s the same as the rest of us.”

“He said something about receiving Skyrunner’s quirk, earlier,” said Uraraka.  

“And Blackwhip…” said Iida.  

“You’re getting it,” said Six.  “Blackwhip originally belonged to Five, incidentally.”

“He has a copy quirk,” concluded Aizawa.  

Six nodded.  The screen changed.  “Right now, Nine has four quirks, three of which he can use freely.  Superpower, Blackwhip, and Float,” he read the quirk names off the screen.  

“And he’s going to get more?” asked Aizawa.

“Eventually,” said Six.  “We don’t want to overload his body—This whole process only kicked off when he met All Might.”

“And why you?” asked Aizawa.  “Why All Might, Skyrunner and these… Five others?”

“I would like to tell you,” said Six.  He raised a finger and waved it in a circle to indicate outside listeners.  

“What are the drawbacks?” asked Aizawa.  

“Hm?”

“The drawbacks.  I get dry eyes when I use my quirk.  Present Mic is deaf.  Vlad is anemic.  A quirk like this one has to have a drawback.”

“What, the broken bones aren’t enough for you?  Or the fact he didn’t hit on the activation conditions until he was fourteen?”

Aizawa stared, unimpressed.  

A tiny corner of Six’s mouth made itself visible over the collar of his coat.  “Well. I think you can make some conclusions but, again…”  He trailed off.  “There are a few more things you should be aware of.  First, Nine had no choice in who we are, although we all fulfil certain criteria.”

“Are you all relatives?” asked Todoroki.  

“Man, you never do give up, do you?” said Six.  “That’s a great quality in a hero.”

“Are you all heroes, then?” continued Todoroki.  

The slide on the screen changed again.  

Vestiges According to History:

8. Yagi Toshinori aka All Might – Hero

7. Shimura Nana aka Skyrunner – Hero

6. Tenma Rokuya aka Fidelity/Railgun – Hero

5. Banjo Daigoro aka Lariat – Hero

4. Vigilante

3. Terrorist

2. Terrorist

1. Unknown

 “Unfortunately,” said Six, “no.”

.

Toshinori caught sight of the feathers first.  He had more experience as a hero, and, as he was no longer the primary user of One for All, the mental strain he was experiencing was much lower, comparatively.  His awareness of his surroundings was better.

Stay calm.  Don’t speak. Don’t run.  

Hawks could receive sensory input from his feathers, though neither Toshinori nor Izuku knew how much.  Better to be safe than sorry.  

We need to get out of the city.

Out of the country, too, for that matter, as much as it would hurt Izuku—

They couldn’t leave all their friends behind to face Shigaraki.  

A compromise could be reached.   They knew a few places—An island, near—

But first, the city.  The first priority was to evade pursuit.  

A bus pulled into the stop ahead of them, and they got on. If they could get outside city limits, where there were fewer people, fewer witnesses, Izuku could float them away. Also, Hawks was less likely to trap his feathers on a bus.  

We might be dealing with the Hawks problem earlier than thought.  

Izuku slouched back on the bus seat, covering his eyes. Toshinori looked up at the ceiling. The Hawks problem.  AKA, the others’ theory that Hawks had been raised as a child soldier, and Toshinori had missed the signs.  

Izuku put his hand on Toshinori’s knee.  

“I can’t believe it,” said one of the other passengers, a few rows ahead of them.  “I really just can’t believe it.  It’s like something from a horror story.”

“What?” asked someone else.  

“Look!”  

“Someone kidnapped All Might?”

The bus filled with chatter.  

Toshinori still couldn’t believe people thought Izuku kidnapped him.  The reality was closer to the opposite, honestly.  He’d have to apologize to Izuku’s mother…

There was a tiny incensed gasp from Izuku, and Toshinori saw Izuku glaring up at him.  Izuku made a series of gestures that could probably have been interpreted as ‘You can’t kidnap anyone, you’re All Might!’ even without the psychic link they were currently enjoying, then went into an enthusiastic tangent about how the commission was probably playing up the ‘crazy stalker fan’ angle.

Toshinori sighed, ruffled Izuku’s hair, and studiously avoided any and all thoughts about what he’d done to Aldera Middle School after Izuku had shown up to training with a black eye and bloody nose that one time.

“What?” squeaked Izuku, his eyes gone very wide.  

Drat.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Toshinori saw three passengers near the front of the bus stand up and felt his heart drop.  One of them had an obvious eagle mutation, the second had a bulging, almost spherical, neck, and the third had broad, flat-ended fingers.

Decades of hero experience told Toshinori exactly what was going to happen next.  Even before the guns came out.  

“Well,” said the eagle-headed man, “with all the heroes looking for the ‘Symbol of Peace,’ I guess this is our lucky day!”

“Nobody move!” demanded the man with the round neck. “This is a hijacking!”

Izuku let out an incredulous grunt next to him, but Toshinori could literally feel his mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, analyzing the quirks of the hijackers and possible motives.  

Really.  There was no way they weren’t going to help.  

.

“By the way, not all of Nine is awake, so, out in the real world his body is operating according to consensus.”

“Consensus of…” said Aizawa, not wanting to finish the thought as he stared at the two entries labeled ‘terrorist.’

“All nine of us together, yes.”

“That’s a pretty big drawback,” said Aizawa, his voice rasping against his throat.

“Eh.  It has its benefits.  Besides, Three and Two lived over a hundred years ago.  We didn’t even have the hero system back then.  Things change.”

“Excuse me!” said Iida, raising his hand.  “Why don’t the last four—the first four? —have names?”

“They asked me not to share them with you quite yet,” said Six.  “Don’t call Three a terrorist though.  That’s a bit of a sore spot with her.”  He looked off to the side.  

“And the quirks?” said Aizawa, hanging on to the very last bit of his will to live by the tips of his fingers.  “The ones I’m presumably going to have to teach Midoriya how to use?”

“Right.”

 Our Splendiferous Quirks

 8. Yagi Toshinori aka All Might – Hero.  Quirk: Superpower.

7. Shimura Nana aka Skyrunner – Hero.  Quirk: Float.

6. Tenma Rokuya aka Fidelity/Railgun – Hero. Quirk: Internet Perception.

5. Banjo Daigoro aka Lariat – Hero.  Quirk: Blackwhip.

4. Vigilante.  Quirk: Danger Sense.

3. Terrorist

2. Terrorist

1. Unknown

 Aizawa was not surprised to see the last four entries, once again, had little information attached.  

“You know,” said Uraraka, “if you ignore the terrorists, this actually makes sense.”

“If you ignore the terrorists?” asked Iida, incredulous.

“I mean, think about who we’ve seen so far.”

“It is like Midoriya to have a split personality based on All Might,” agreed Todoroki.  Because split personalities were going to be his go-to theory, now that figments of Midoriya’s quirk’s imagination had shot down his ‘Dadmight’ conspiracy.  

“If you want to think of us as split personalities, sure,” said Six.  “We really don’t interact that much with the outside, though.”

“And Skyrunner is basically supermom,” said Uraraka. “Like, if she was All Might’s mentor, it makes sense that that’s what he’d envision her as.”

“Ah,” said Iida, “so she reminds you of Midoriya-san as well?”

Aizawa noticed Six shift uncomfortably and look away but decided he honestly did not want to know.  

“Oh, and you,” said Uraraka, spreading her hands to indicate Six, “are kind of like Aizawa-sensei!

“Except with more memes,” said Todoroki.  

“Yeah, except with more memes,” agreed Uraraka.  

Six faked a cough into his fist.  “Anyway, I think that’s everything…  No, wait.  Hawks.”

“Hawks,” repeated Aizawa.  

“Yeah.  We’re pretty sure he was raised and conditioned to be a slave for the commission from a very young age.”  Another pause.  Six turned to face Todoroki.  “Also, Dabi is probably your dead older brother, Todoroki Touya.”

“Oh,” said Todoroki.  

“What,” said Aizawa.  

“We’d just like someone in a position to do things with this information to have it.  Even if we were sure Nine would retain all this, he, ah.  The commission is doing a very good job of trashing his reputation.”

“Is this revenge?” whispered Todoroki.  “Did I push Midoriya too far?”

“Kid, you could beat Nine up on a weekly basis for ten years, and he’d still barely think of revenge.  Come on, I need to take you guys to Five.”

Barely, he said.  Meaning, he did think about revenge.  They had to get out of here fast; Bakugo’s life was in danger.  

.

There were lives in danger.  A simple robbery wouldn’t require this kind of setup.  These three needed hostages for some reason.  

Or…  Izuku traced the direction the three villains kept looking to the college student in the corner.  The young woman’s clothing was high quality, and she looked vaguely familiar.  

He couldn’t help but be exasperated.  Shigaraki Tomura was running around out there somewhere, and these guys were doing… whatever this was.  Causing problems.  He and Toshinori would have to try and evade Hawks after this.  

But exasperation wasn’t going to keep these people safe.  

Eagle-head looked like the leader at first glance, but on closer inspection, he was taking cues from the man with the squared-off fingers. The man with the round neck seemed to have a body expansion quirk of some type, possibly similar to Kendo’s, considering how his joints pulsed and how his clothing was designed with extra folds.

… He’d shown Toshinori a catalogue with similar clothing, once. But Toshinori had said that the ill-fitting look added to his disguise.  

In the tight confines of the bus, that would be dangerous. The best thing to do to him would be to throw him out when the bus came to a stop.

The quirk of the man with the square finger was a problem. It was probably an emitter type, rather than a transformation type.  Something to do with his hands, perhaps?

Honestly, the best thing to do for all of them, at least with regards to the people on the bus, would be to toss them off and then get the driver to gun it.  But then, what about people on the street?  These guys didn’t have any scruple against taking hostages, obviously.

“Hey, you, hand over the briefcase,” said the man with the round neck.  

Izuku glanced at Toshinori, who nodded.  Coils of Blackwhip ran up and down his arms under the sleeves of his suit, much more controlled and complex than Izuku had managed to date.  

Thanks for the help, Five.  

He slammed the briefcase into the eagle-headed man’s beak. Toshinori hadn’t skimped on anything when stocking the hideout, and the metal made immensely satisfying contact with bone.  Blackwhip shot out from near his elbow—like Sero—and wrapped around the hands of the gunmen, forcing their aim down.

The man with square fingers reacted first, raising his hand. Each fingertip emitted a flat, square pane that traveled in a straight line and got progressive larger.  Izuku pulled, slamming the man into the back of his own shield, because really, that was too slow, and how similar was this quirk to Crust’s?  Could the villain change the trajectory of his panels, or no?

Not the time.

The shield cracked as Izuku hit it from the other side, and Toshinori was throwing open the back door.  The man with the expanding quirk—and it was an expanding quirk—seemed to finally realize what was happening, and lashed out, but Izuku was faster than he was.  The spherical throat was evidently a weak point.  

“Can you stop?” Izuku asked the bus driver, who, tense as he was, slammed down on the brakes, making Izuku stumble.  He hauled the villains off the bus, Toshinori hopping off the back with the eagle-headed man a moment later.  

Well, that had happened.  

Izuku caught a flash of very distinctive red out of the corner of his eye.  

.

Six stopped.  “That isn’t good,” he said, looking slightly up.  There was nothing there that Aizawa could see, except for a collection of pipes.  They were travelling through a series of underground concrete passages in an effort to find ‘Five.’

“What is it?” asked Uraraka.  

Six’s form abruptly flickered and vanished.  Oh, that couldn’t be good.  

“Sensei.”  

Aizawa turned to see Midoriya standing behind them, wearing a truly godawful pinstriped suit.  He held his right wrist in his left hand, an odd bracer wrapped around it.

“Is that the Full Gauntlet?” asked Uraraka.  “Why-?”

Midoriya flashed a quick smile in her direction.  “I’m sorry, sensei, this is really last minute, but I need you to tell me how to use your quirk.”

.

We absolutely can’t strike first.

They wanted to.  They knew this would turn into a battle.  The first strike was an advantage they couldn’t discount.  

Win the battle and lose the war.  

He could see the cell phones already out, held bystanders not quite broken from the habits gained in All Might’s era.  Even with the Hero Commission already slandering him, this would affect the narrative.  If he ever hoped to be welcomed back to hero society, or even the public’s good graces, in any way shape or form, he could not be seen starting a fight with a hero.  Much less the current number two hero.  

“I don’t suppose you’ll make my job easier and release All Might from your mind-control quirk,” said Hawks, tone conversational despite the fact he was standing at least two stories above them in the air.  

“I don’t have a mind-control quirk,” said Izuku, reaching up to the knot of his tie.  

“And I’m not being mind-controlled,” said Toshinori, loosening his mask.  

Hawks actually paused.  “Oh my gosh,” he said, raising one hand to his mouth like a scandalized housewife, “I didn’t realize that was you!  What happened to your hair?”

“I… cut it off.”

“That’s, uh.”  Hawks quickly regained control of his expression.  “Terrible that this villain made you do that.”

Hawks’ heart wasn’t entirely in this apparently.  

Just as apparently, that had no bearing on what Hawks was actually going to do.  

.

“You’ve seen me use my quirk,” said Aizawa.  

“I know, and that’ll be helpful, too, but how do you use it?  What’s the feeling you get when you use it?  How do you activate it?  What’s the internal mechanism?  This is important.”

“Why?” asked Iida.  “What’s going on Midoriya?”

“It’s—” Midoriya’s form flickered.  He took a deep breath.  He was now wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants.  “I’m in a fight right now, and it would be useful,” he reported, calmly.

“Please tell me it isn’t with my mind-controlled unconscious body,” begged Aizawa, “or the League of Villains.”  

“It isn’t.”

Thank goodness.

“I’m fighting Hawks.”

Why.  

No, ask questions later.  The Problem Child needed help now.  To fight the number two hero.

He didn’t know how knowledge about his quirk could be useful in a fight against Hawks, but the claim was far, far too stupid to be a lie.  

“When I turn on my quirk, I—”

.

Blackwhip unfurled from his arms like a dark version of Shouji’s quirk, tearing his sleeves to shreds and dislodging the feathers that had been imbedded there.  The ends wrapped around feather after feather, splitting into dozens and dozens of pseudo-arms.  Izuku was amazed.  

Someday, he would be able to do this on his own.  

For now—

For now, he was fighting Hawks, who had trained since childhood to fight on behalf of the commission.  

For now, he was a hero student, with only a few months of practical experience.  

For now, he was a fugitive, on the run and desperate.  

For now, he was host and member of One for All, and collectively they had been heroes for over a hundred years.  

And Toshinori had his back.  

They wrapped the silk tie around his knuckles.  Any protection for the bones in his hands was valuable.  In the other, they adjusted the briefcase.  They had only rarely used weapons in the last hundred or so years. Usually, their quirks made weapons overkill.  

But before that—Before that, things were different.  For a while, One and Two had used swords, of all things.  

This battle was much more even than it looked.  

Their victory condition: Escape with Toshinori.  

Their failure conditions: Civilian injury, serious injury to Izuku or Toshinori, or capture of either Izuku or Toshinori.  

To avoid the first point of failure, it was best for them to get away from the vulnerable civilians.  They didn’t want to give away float so soon in the game, so…  

They grabbed the edge of a building with Blackwhip and launched Izuku upwards, flinging feathers away from him.  Toshinori would follow and provide the group with a second perspective.  

Hawks did not expect to be joined in the air.  An incredulous smile graced his lips.  Izuku smiled back and catapulted himself directly into Hawks.

“You know,” he said, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile for real!”

.

“What?” asked Hawks, startled.  He wasn’t one to have meaningful conversations with people he was supposed to bring in, but a statement like that had to be responded to.  

Even if most of his attention was on the quirk that Midoriya controlled with much more proficiency than indicated by his school records.  The kid was good, had good instincts when it came to battle, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to get past Hawks’s guard, or to really close the distance between them.

“Your smile!” said Midoriya.  “When I was younger, I didn’t realize it, but once I knew the truth behind All Might’s smile, I understood!”  

“Did you, now?” asked Hawks.  

“Underneath,” said Midoriya, “your face is a lot like Todoroki’s!  It’s—”

Conversation during a battle was usually a distraction, to the person employing it as a tactic as well as the target.  Somehow, though, Midoriya was subverting that rule.

“It’s actually really sad!” exclaimed Midoriya, breathless, but apparently genuine, not mocking.  “Who hurt you?”

“Heh,” said Hawks.  This kid knew.  How? “Shouldn’t I be the one asking questions here?”

“Gotta hand it to the commission, they really did a number on you,” said Midoriya, briefly touching down on a rooftop.  “Why do you keep doing their dirty work for them?”

He was using that second quirk, but not his strength.  Was it a matter of ‘won’t’ or ‘can’t?’  Either way, it was something to keep an eye on.  

“Why don’t you—” Hawks briefly managed to pin Midoriya by the edge of his jacket, but the boy tore free easily.  “—fly free?”

“You’re one to talk,” said Hawks.  “What did you trade to All for One for those quirks?”  He didn’t actually believe Midoriya was in league with All for One.  Even tangentially, through proxies, they’d been at odds too many times, not to mention the videos he’d been shown by the commission of Midoriya and All Might interacting.  The connection there couldn’t be faked.

He’d know.  He’d tried so many times.

(Was trying now, with the League of Villains.)

(Midoriya wasn’t one of them.)

But he had a job to do.  

Besides.  Even he had to admit the commission had a point.  The quirks had to come from somewhere.  

(Just because Midoriya didn’t willingly associate with All for One didn’t mean he hadn’t been forced.  Didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten out.)

(All Might was protecting him.  How did they know each other?)

“Wouldn’t you take any hand offered to you if the person behind it offered to make you what you always wanted to be?”

Midoriya tilted his head to one side.  “Nope!” he responded, cheerfully.

.

On the street below, Toshinori coughed, blood splattering his sleeve.  What had Izuku been doing when he was younger, to get involved with so many dangerous and disturbing people?

It wasn’t my fault!

Kid really is a trouble magnet.  

Oh, heck, I think I recognized that one—

Really, with that sharp mind, and Izuku’s propensity for both curiosity, helpfulness, and, well, finding trouble, it was a miracle he’d stayed alive for so long.  

Wouldn’t call it a miracle, sonny—

HAHA I can’t believe he thought that was a dream.  

In his defense, a dream makes more sense than—

Guys.  Focus, please?

Yes.  This was not the time to discuss… that.  Now… Well.  Toshinori had a role he could play in this battle, even as he was, and—

Hawks and Izuku’s path over the rooftops mapped itself out in his mind.  

Oh, no.  

Izuku wasn’t evading Hawks.  

He was being herded by him.  

.

They tucked and rolled across the pavement, Blackwhip cocooning them and breaking their fall.   This was significantly more than what Five, what Daigoro, could use back when he was alive.  It took everyone’s efforts to keep everything going.  

Wait for it, they reminded themselves, bouncing back to Izuku’s feet.  

Izuku looked up.  This… was not a good position.  Hawks had forced them into the entertainment district.  They couldn’t trust that the fancy facades and art instalations of the buildings would hold up to Blackwhip.  Not to mention, in places like this…  He glanced around.  

Fourth Kind.  

Kesagiriman.

Slugger.  

Death Arms.  

There would be more, soon.  This was… less than good.  Maybe they should just grab Toshinori’s body and launch themselves with Blackwhip and Float, as far as they could.  They’d lose a lot of their advantage on Hawks, but at least then they wouldn’t be fighting five different heroes.  

Izuku gritted his teeth in something like a smile.  Five different heroes.  Well.  Nine on five wasn’t bad odds.  

.

Suzuku pulled himself along the ground, trembling.  He had been falling for—for ages by the time that witch woman had disappeared.  Why she had disappeared, he couldn’t guess, but…

Falling.  

So much falling.  

And hitting the ground again, and again, and again.  

You invaded our minds, said the woman, don’t complain when we counter with something psychological as well.  

Something like a laugh bubbled up from his throat.  

You can leave whenever you want, can’t you?

He’d show her.  He’d show her and find all her secrets.  Just see if he didn’t.  

.

Fourth Kind, Kesagiriman, Slugger, and Death Arms all had very physical, straightforward quirks.  Out of all of them, though, Death Arms was probably the most problematic, followed by Slugger and his long-range attacks.  

None of them held a candle to Hawks, of course.  Which was the reason why Death Arms in particular was so problematic.  

In order to deal with Hawks’s feathers, they needed Blackwhip. But using Blackwhip and One for All’s signature superstrength at the same time wasn’t something Izuku’s body was used to.  They were limiting it to small bursts.  Death Arms’ own physical enhancement quirk, while miniscule compared to One for All’s current stature, was nothing to sneer at.  

If Death Arms—or any of the other heroes—landed a solid blow, that could be it for Izuku.  

They refused to be locked away again.  

That’s when it happened.  

A scene played across Izuku’s inner eye:

A frosty morning.  A little boy with dark hair.  A farewell. Tears.  

He flubbed the landing and a sharp pain lanced through his ankle. Blackwhip wrapped it, giving it much needed support.  

He started to rise, only to drop to avoid one of Slugger’s patented Home Run Pitches (tm).  

The ball spun, ricocheting off the stainless steel of an art installation before drilling right through a wooden beam on a bit of scaffolding holding up part of a building that was being refurbished.  Izuku let out a breath of relief (there were still people around who hadn’t learned how to run away from a dangerous fight) before they returned to the dance with Hawks’s impressively huge number of feathers.  

Blackwhip could keep up with them, barely, but Izuku was tiring. He couldn’t take much more of this.

He needed an opening to get to Toshi—

Another scene:

She couldn’t be pregnant.  Not now. Not right after giving away another. The next time Sorahiko suggested drowning her troubles in sake, she was going to shove it straight up his blowholes, no matter that he was probably just as drunk as she was.  

This slip almost resulted in Izuku getting his face punched in by Death Arms.  Considering what he’d just learned, he’d almost welcome that fate, if it made him forget.  Plus, it might have been funny for the ultimate battle of ultimate destiny, the show down between One for All and All for One, to take place between not one, but two potato-headed individuals—

There was a sharp crack from above as the damage Death Arms had done to the scaffolding made itself known.  

Izuku didn’t have to think before moving.  

.

“Alright,” said Midoriya.  “I think I’ve got it.  Thank you, sensei.”  He looked young, now.  Barely primary school age.  

“I’d feel a lot better,” said Aizawa, “if I knew what you needed this information for.”

“Oh!  That’s simple.  You see, it’s my theory that the overlap in mechanisms between my quirk and Saito-san’s might allow for interesting emergent behaviors.  Specifically, her quirk bridges a gap I’d normally have no way of crossing, although there’s certainly drawbacks.  It’s like what we tried earlier, when I asked you to use your quirk.  Although, I am hoping for different results than what I was looking for back then.  I think, with what you’ve given me, and this processing time…  Yes, this should work.”  He clenched a fist.  “These remnants—I can use them!”

Remnants.  Vestiges.

Aizawa frowned.  Something… something wasn’t right, here.  The explanation Six had given them…

“Just keep going this way, for now.  Six will try to get back to you as soon as possible.  I have to go now!  I love you guys!”

He then faded out.  While waving.  

“Wow,” said Uraraka.  “Izuku-kun sure was a cute kid.”

Aizawa couldn’t argue with that.  

“Aizawa-sensei,” said Todoroki.  “You’re blushing.”

He wouldn’t lower himself to argue with that.  “This conversation is illogical.  Let’s go.”

“Sensei is weak to little kids,” observed Todoroki.  

And if they ever discovered they could remove the ‘little’ in that sentence and have it still be accurate, he’d never live it down.  

.

Hawks saw the eyes first, shining through the dust like two perfect green coins.  Then every one of his feathers went dead, and he started to fall.  

Sensation returned just in time for him to avoid hitting the ground at speed and, just as quickly, vanished again.  

A breeze blew cleared the dust away.  

Midoriya Izuku stood under the collapsed scaffolding, holding it up with black tendrils and sparking green arms.  If this scene had been all that there was, an observer might be forgiven for wondering why he was holding up the scaffolding like that.

But Hawks knew.  If Midoriya hadn’t caught the scaffolding, even he wouldn’t have been able to get those civilians out from underneath it in time.  He glanced to the side, where the almost victims were standing up. Normally, he’d just trust his feathers, but…

“Is that Eraserhead’s quirk?”

“Don’t worry, I asked Eraserhead-sensei for permission, first.”

“What kind of monster—” started Death Arms.  

“Don’t you dare, Mister ‘my quirk isn’t suitable.’” Midoriya shifted the scaffolding to one side and shrugged himself out from underneath it.  “As heroes, aren’t you supposed to consider the civilians around you?”  He laughed. “I guess we’re still a little bitter about that.”

.

Izuku was putting on a good show, but he was reaching the end of his endurance.  Plus, he could already hear the sirens of police cars and the exclamations that followed large groups of heroes on the move.  

Good thing, then, that Toshinori was about to round the corner in three… two… one… There!

To an outsider, Blackwhip wrapping around Toshinori probably looked violent.  In reality, everyone operating the quirk was intimately aware of everything wrong with Toshinori’s body and did not want to add to his problems.  They could have probably grabbed an egg like this.  

Grabbing the newly-exposed concrete and rebar of the building behind Izuku, they launched themselves up.  At the top of their arc, they activated Float.  Blackwhip reeled Toshinori in, and they held onto each other as Izuku prepared to use air pressure to launch themselves forward.  

He hadn’t blinked yet.  

His eyes really hurt.  

(And so did everything else.)

He aimed and kicked against the air, sending them soaring away.

They had escaped.  

.

Tomura ducked behind the wall at the top of the building, glad that his party had put so many points into stealth, because he was not touching what had just happened with a ten-foot pole.  He’d rather be shot again.  He’d rather fight Machia for a week straight with no rest breaks.  He’d rather listen to Sensei try to give him the birds and the bees talk.  

What was that?  Huh? What kind of a broken character build allowed for that kind of combat ability?  The mods had to be asleep.  If he were in charge, he’d nerf it, pronto.  

That was a lie.  He’d take it for himself.  

Still.  

“Uh, Shigaraki?  Boss man?  You okay there?” asked Spinner.  

“No,” decided Shigaraki.  

Suddenly, making all of them jump, Toga squealed.  “Did you see him?  Did you see Izuku-kun?  He was so cute with his nose bleeding like that!”

“Hey,” said Dabi, “are we going after the green kid or what?”

“No,” decided Shigaraki, for the second time in as many minutes.  And then, “Gimme the phone.  We need to call the doctor to get us out of here.”

They did, but that was pretty much secondary to his primary objective, which was to cuss out the doctor concerning the cursed knowledge that was currently trying to escape his skull with a pickaxe.  

.

“Um,” said Inko.  “Aren’t you going to get that?”  She pointed at the phone that had been buzzing on the table for the past several minutes.

“No,” said Garaki, pretending to sip at his tea.  “You were saying?”

[cake-writes]

Ruse (Part Three)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Bodyguard!AU (except it’s not actually an AU because Bucky’s still an Avenger), Reader’s a loveable idiot, Fluff, Humour, Slow Burn, Angst, Violence, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Eventual 18+

Word Count: 896

Summary: Natasha ropes you into her plan to help Bucky's mental state: temporarily relieving him from his avenging duties to be your bodyguard. There’s no threat, of course, and it’s a terrible idea – but it just might work.

Part Two / Master List

You’re actually starstruck.

That’s what it has to be. It’s the only explanation for your behaviour.

“Do you think I can get a selfie with you?” you ask, shyly, like an awkward teenage girl – standing on the opposite side of the coffee table from where Bucky’s seated at the sofa. Behind you, the TV is tuned to some random country’s news channel, and you can’t understand a lick of it.

Obviously, he can. You can't say you're not a little impressed – or a little turned on. He could say things in other languages, too, no doubt. Dirty things.

Stop it, brain.

It’s been a little while since your last conversation. Bucky’s in the process of sending an email to headquarters with a list of things he needs to secure your apartment. You’ve observed him over the last couple of hours checking things, taking measurements, finding other ‘improvements’ you’ve made—

And jotting them down in his notepad, because there were more that you’d forgotten about until now. Whoops.

When you speak, his eyes slowly drift up to you from the laptop on the table in front of him. There's a black Avengers logo imprinted on the back of the device, and for some reason that sudden observation makes you feel incredibly stupid for bothering him.

He's busy. He's important.

You’re not.

For a beat, the only thing you can hear is the male news anchor blathering on in whatever language that is. You still can’t place it. Something European.

“Why?” he finally asks, and his tone confirms that it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “What d’you want that for?”

And you realize, then, that Bucky must not think very much of himself. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize his appeal. Surely he’s been approached for a photo before, hasn’t he? He’s famous.

Natasha was right. He does need to spread his wings a bit. Or maybe you’re just an idiot.

“I mean, I’m okay with an autograph, too, if that’s— okay?” you stumble over your words because he’s staring straight at you with those pretty baby blues, giving you his full, undivided, skeptical attention, and it makes you nervous, “Or—Or not. That’s okay too.”

Yeah, you’re an idiot.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself until it dawns on him what you mean. You can see the moment that happens clear as day on his face; his eyes blink open just a fraction, he opens his mouth to say something but the words don’t come – and then his cheeks start to flush.

The news anchor’s changed to a female-sounding one, now, but you still can't understand a thing. Not that you’re paying attention anymore, because he's flustered. Bucky Barnes is flustered because of you and you’ll never, ever forget it as long as you live.

“Fine,” he grumbles.

When he gets to his feet, you ball your hands into fists and do your best to resist the urge to squeal. Just like a teenage girl. Again. “Thank you!”

Natasha could never find out about this. She’d never let you live it down. She'd probably never let him live it down either, knowing her.

You scuttle over to his side of the couch and hold out your phone for a decent angle, but he slings an arm over your shoulders to bring you in for a better photo. It's so natural a movement you suspect that he has been asked before; just not very often judging by his reaction.

You can immediately feel that it’s his vibranium one. The weight of his arm across your shoulders is solid, not at all like flesh, not that you mind because the feeling sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Not to mention he’s so close that your pulse starts to race.

Still hard to get a good angle, though.

With an exasperated tut, he takes your phone from you with his free hand and extends it out further. Longer reach, and god, he smells good. Like sandalwood and spice and fresh shampoo. Masculine. Heady.

When was the last time you had a man’s arm around you?

You can worry about that later. Instead, you pose. Big grin on your face and an exaggerated peace sign at the corner of your eyes, because you’re an idiot – and you can’t help but feel like the slight smile on Bucky’s face might be genuine.

Click.

He takes a couple more for good measure, and then he quickly steps away. You find yourself missing the pleasant feel of his arm around your shoulders, but that’s just your dry spell talking. It doesn’t help that Bucky’s too attractive for his own good, and you’re trapped here with him.

“Thanks,” you tell him, throat dry when he plops your phone back into your palm.

“Sure.”

It’s awkward, because you want to keep talking to him but you don’t know what to say. An apology, maybe.

Then you miss your opportunity altogether, because Bucky sits back down on the sofa and again focuses on his too-long list of jerry-rigged apartment fixes. He’s really got his work cut out for him.

You stand there for a few more seconds, unmoving, until those clear blue eyes flit up to the TV; something on the news must have caught his attention, and you’re in the way.

Back to work, then. You and your pounding heart decide to leave him be.

Part Four