#Not currently riding but boy high nature walks are great

[delcat177]

"Touch grass" is the most cutting response of our time because it is entirely good advice and it keeps my lazy stoner ass touching the Other Weeds

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Showdown at High-Moon

A gunslinger sees a lot of tricks in their day, usually by fools who think they can outclever a bullet to the chest. I’ll admit that this one is.... new. 

Hooks: 

Early in their adventures the party hear tell of the legendary orcish gunslinger Skavel Ironbough, who’s innumerable deeds of grit and daring are a standard against which the would-be heroes must measure themselves. However, when they finally get a chance to see Ironbough at work, they’re treated to a very different sort of show as the legendary marksman is brought down by a ragged woman in rider’s leathers who faces off against him in a shootout. Never actually drawing her pistol, the unknown woman closes on Ironbough at a steady pace, withstanding every bullet the orc puts into her with a mildly pained grimace one might expect as if she was walking barefoot over some mildly sharp stones. Watching aghast along with the rest of the crowd, the party watches as the woman crushes Ironbough’s windpipe with her bare hands, before turning to the onlooking townsfolk and declaring “ The Matter is settled, anyone who comes after me and mine will get the same” before unhitching her horse and riding out of town. 

After this the legend spreads, the woman’s name is Evita Capitoloro, a former ranch hand famed for scarring her employer’s son (possibly in a fit of anger or jealous passion) before fleeing to the wilderness and turning rustler. She’s said to lead a gang of former outlaws, and her former employer, Emanuel Roth is convinced she’s looking to make a move against his holdings next, and has put out word that he’s looking to hire on more help for his next big drive.  With people panicked and the region’s most famed gunslinger in an early grave, perhaps it’s time for the party to step up and assume the mantle, and take up the cattle baron’s call.  

Along their travels, the party will be approached by a seedy trapper with spectacularly bad vibes who will offer to lend them a seemingly mundane item that would prove a great aid to their current situation. Meeting them at the crossroads outside of town, approaching their campsite at night, this “kindly hermit” will continue to pester them until the party actively ask him to leave. It’s not until one of the heroes is knocked out in combat that the hermit’s true nature is revealed, as he appears in a vison of a black forest, offering to lead the dying character back to their body. The kindly hermit is a devil, who offers boons to the desperate to see just how far towards ruin they might travel if only given the slightest bit of help. He asks for no favors, no contracts, only wishing to see what ends might occur if he supplies the means. 

Setup: Before she turned rustler, Evita was more than just a hand at the Roth family ranch, she was one of their best drivers, personally tasked with covering for the mistakes of Emanuel’s oldest son, a boy thoroughly spoiled by the wealthy pedigree his father had spent years acquiring.  Overworked and under appreciated, Evita had been saving for years to buy up some land and strike out on her own, sure to be successful with the experience and contacts she’d made working for the Roths. It was on the tail end of her last big drive that the Eldest Roth boy, all smiles, let it slip that he had found out about her plans and had bought out the land she’d laid a downpayment on, insisting that his father would never let her strike out on her own as a competitor and that her only future in the cattle business would be under him. He was not subtle about what he meant, nor was Evita subtle when she cracked her bullwhip across his face or when she coiled the leather cord around her fist and beat the smug bastard’s perfect teeth in. 

It was that night after running off into the badlands that the Kindly Hermit found her: wiping the blood from her knuckles in a creek and shivering from shock and desert chill. The devil offered her a wolfskin to keep warm, and like all his gifts, it let her do the impossible, in this case bestowing lycanthropy and a supernatural toughness upon a woman against whom the whole world had suddenly turned. 

From there it was the work of years, getting together a crew, using her knowledge of the cattle trade to plan raids on Roth’s herd, finding ANOTHER crew after the last one got shot down by the rancher’s thugs or was torn apart by an unpredicted bestial transformation. Eventually however she worked it out, found a way to (mostly) control her wolf, found a gang of outlaws and bastards and tough and as determined as she was, found an old military fort they could use as a hideout with a sturdy powder vault they could lock her in while she waited out the moon. 

An old fort that the Cattle Baron has sent the party towards in hopes of eliminating the woman who scarred his heir and strangled his hired gun, completely ignorant of the inhuman trap they’ll be walking into. 

[introvert--weeb]

The reader is giving me Senju Kawaragi and Imaushi Wakasa vibes 👍 I'm not totally sure if what I've written is what you had in mind but it's what I had interpreted the request as

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!!

--

Mikey, Draken, Takemichi, Mitsuya with a silent m!reader

TW: mentions of violence, fighting

--

Mikey

Mikey was used to how silent you could be. You had never been any different. People even knew you under the nickname of 'Ghost Boy'.

Mikey hardly knew anything about you that you hadn't told him directly. No-one even knew your last name unless they had asked you about what it was.

Even though he was your boyfriend, Mikey still could not tell when you were approaching. It was almost as if you floated rather than walked like everyone else. He had noted that you didn't seem to talk a lot, even when you were both alone.

You also seemed to react to things a lot faster to how most middle school boys you age did. In fact, you were hard to hit in a fight which had made Mikey a little suspicious that you weren't just a simple middle schooler. In fact, if he hadn't known any better, he would have said you were a member of a gang. After all, you rivalled him in reaction time.

At school, people knew you as the leader of a gang of friends who were just like you. Even though students at your school thought you were all a gang, none of you clarified whether you were or not. It remained a mystery to everyone.

Mikey knew about your little group. At one point he even thought you were leading your own gang. Especially when he had caught you and your group fighting against a gang that had cornered you all. Some questions had been answered while more arose in their place. Like how could move that fast? And how did you kicks knock out someone twice your size? It seemed like the whole group were on your level. None of you seemed to be human in your movements.

All of what he saw had made his curiosity about you grow all the more. After all, you were both in a relationship and he hardly knew you if this was anything to go off.

Definitely the boyfriend who would compliment you after the fight, telling you how cool you looked and how you should join Toman. Although you would refuse to join his gang, it didn't stop you two from sparring every now and then. The current standing was 50 wins for you to his 54.

Draken

Draken was no different from anyone else when it came to how silent your approach was. In fact, he had almost experienced a heart attack every week when you had snuck up on him. Not that you tried to sneak up on him.

How you two had gotten together was a mystery that no-one could solve. You were just so different from each other. Draken was loud, bold and everyone felt his presence when he entered the room. You however were reserved, quiet and no-one noticed you until it was too late. No-one could sneak up on you though as your reactions to any movement were too quick. There was one time where you had accidentally punched someone who approached you from behind with their hand outstretched.

Your boyfriend had always stated that you should join Toman since you were able to sneak up on others and that is a great quality for fights. Even if you weren't physically strong. You simply refused, not wanting to be placed where others could potentially treat you different because you were dating their Vice Captain. Although there were rumours that you were in a gang with your friends but no one knew since you never agreed or denied.

It was as if fate had told him to head to the supermarket that one night. He was just rounding the corner when he could hear what sounded like a fight. Curiosity got the best of him as he went to watch the commotion that was happening.

To his surprise, he watched as his boyfriend had flipped his opponent onto his back with a swift kick to the side of the head following after. Blood had stained your boot as you moved to take down the others. Your friends were just as swift with their fighting partner and in no time at all the gang was lying unconscious.

"Didn't realise you were in a gang Y/N," Draken called out as he approached you. Maybe that is why you never agreed to join Toman. You however just ignored the statement since it was neither truth or lie, and instead asked what your tall boyfriend was doing out and about.

Maybe it was the way you dodged the topic but Ken found himself wanting to learn more about this side of you. Were you always out fighting or was it only when people would approach you? Did you take advantage of your silent nature when fighting or was that not something you thought about? So many questions swirled around Draken's mind about what he wanted to find out about you.

Takemichi

What had attracted Takemichi to you was how strong you seemed. Just like you, your aura was silent and unnoticeable. You were known as a phantom since you would just appear where others were.

As you both got into a relationship, he realised that he knew nothing about you really. He knew your first name but not your last; he knew your friends and yet he had never noticed them; and he knew about the rumours of you being a delinquent in a gang that involved your friends but didn't know if it was true. Every time he brought up the topic, you would either ignore him or just brush over a response.

There had been times where Takemichi hadn't noticed you were there, something he hated to admit to himself. You were just so quiet that you blended into the background of any scene. You would be hyper-vigilant of your surroundings and so your reaction time was incredible fast. It reminded him of Mikey.

It had been while he was on a bike ride with Mikey and Draken that he noticed you and your friends in an empty parking lot, 15 high schoolers circling your group of 4. Takemichi had asked Mikey and Draken to pull over so he could help you out. However, although he never took his eyes off you, before he knew it the high schoolers were on the ground groaning in pain.

Had he blinked that long? There was no way 4 middle school boys could have defeated all those boys in less time it takes to complete a blink! Mikey and Draken were also shocked at what they saw. It would have taken them at least a minute or so to defeat that gang but you had got it done in seconds. It couldn't be possible but they had witnessed it with their own eyes.

The curiosity that your boyfriend already harboured about you had increased tenfold. Maybe those rumours of you being in a gang were true, not that you would enlighten him on the thought. You would remain as closed off as you always had.

Not noticing that your boyfriend was there, you had walked off with your friends following. Mikey and Draken pestered Takemichi for information about you. Were you a gang leader? Were you a strong fighter? Would you join Toman if the blond asked? All questions Takemichi had no answer to. He wanted to learn more about you and maybe this was the time he could.

Mitsuya

You had both met each other when collecting your younger sibling. It was just a coincidence that they happened to be friends with Luna. They had both left the classroom together and made their way over to where Takashi was stood. Unbeknownst to him, you were stood to his right around a foot distance between the two of you.

Mitsuya wasn't going to lie. He was confused when your sibling hadn't diverted off to where someone would be waiting for them. After all, he was only here for Luna and she hadn't mentioned anything about a play date. However, it was only when your sibling walked up to you that he even realised someone was next to him. A conversation had started there, you hardly speaking while Mitsuya simply enjoyed your presence.

Once you were together, he still couldn't get you to open up fully to him. The only reason he knew your last name was because Luna had told him your sibling's full name. He had also heard the rumours that you were leading a gang but you would just shrug and explain that the rumour had always been around. So he got no straight answer of whether you did lead a gang or not.

Mitsuya had noticed how your reactions were suspiciously fast when it came to anyone approaching you from behind. There had been a time where you had flipped someone over your shoulder due to them simply going to get your attention through a shoulder tap.

One day Mitsuya had gone to ride his bike to meet up with the other Toman leaders to hang out. As your boyfriend passed the park, he noticed you were hanging out with your friends when a boy twice your size had come to harass you. Mitsuya felt panic bubbling in his chest as he pulled over, the thought of going over to defend you crossing his mind. That was until you had simply kicked at your opponent, knocking him down in an instant. For your size, you shouldn't have been able to knock him out unless you were Mikey and Mikey was a monster. But the larger boy didn't get back up while you simply continued your conversation with your friends.

Mitsuya was both impressed and intrigued. Had you always been able to fight? Was this how the rumours about you being in a gang had started? His curiosity about you had grown significantly and he made it his mission to find out everything about you.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Slasher Victorian AU series Featuring Brahms Heelshire.

Divider by https://firefly-graphics.tumblr.com/

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 1

Prompt: 79

Brahms taps his foot under his large, dark oak desk. He taps his pencil on a stack of papers, legal documents for his clients, ranging from the mundane like Mr. Krueger complaining about his neighbor Mr. Voorhees, ranging from 'standing there, menacingly' to ' He breathed in my direction.' To the extreme as an abuse case against a young vulnerable girl named Carrie.

Brahms pinches the bridge of his nose, the paper in front of him the most important and he was to not be paid for solving the problem. He picks up the paper to re-read the sections that stuck out the most.

We are advising you on your son, Lawrence, we regret to inform you of his wild, ruckus-filled behavior. We understand that young boys have a degree of tomfoolery to them but he, Lawrence, is turning out to be one who fancies himself an urchin.

Brahms grunts, eyes scanning the page,

He recently had put candy, that was similar in appearance to the headmistresses medication.

Brahms chuckles,

He also has set up a boxing club. He charges the boys a pence a piece for admittance and takes bets against the two boys fighting.

Brahms bit his lip, his cheeks turning pink. He clears his throat as a co-worker glances his way.

His face fell as he re-read the final line.

If these behaviors fail to be corrected over the upcoming break, we recommend a crammer school for young Lawrence.

Brahms slams the paper down on the desk, he leans back in his chair, gripping the arm of the chair, "Crammer school" he seethes. Brahms made a vow to Gerti, to never let their son end up at such a place, he was to be a gentleman and a gentleman comes from a gentlemanly background. Not a Crammer school for the slow and sluggish, a Gentleman's brute offspring to be fed into the army for slaughter.

"Any plans for the night?"

Brahms snaps his head towards his co-worker, Mr. Bates.

"Any plans for the night, Brahms? Taking the maid out for another moving picture?" Mr. Bates grins and nudges Brahms's shoulder with his elbow.

"Ah, no, she's been," Brahms twirls the pencil in his fingers, "Busy."

Brahms glances at his desk, the picture of his late wife and son.

Mr. Bates's eyes follow Brahms's, "You know, I'm sure Gerti doesn't mind. Lawrence adored her, yes, I'm sure that boy is dying for a new one," He rests his clammy hand on Brahms's shoulder, "After all, a boy's best friend is his mother."

Brahms recoils, "By God, Norman, listen to yourself," Brahms brushes off Norman's hand as he stands, "A Boy needs friends his own age," He grabs his important papers, stacking them loosely, he yanks his briefcase from under the desk to slam it on his desk, "Not a mother as a friend."

You gleefully prepare the ginger beer, the old beige and brown bottles embedded with the Heelshire name. You scan the current bottle in your hands, "1771" you read aloud, "My goodness."

You delicately place the plates on the table, humming as you admired the beautiful set. "This costs more than one week's wage." Another tentative glance, "Which is why..." You twirl in the drawing-room, "I'm getting another job!"

Your mind raced back to last week...

The carriage ride was bumpy, every bump from a pothole to a large rock made your already uneasy stomach flip.

"Almost there, miss!" The coach called out to you, "Sorry for the ride, Daniel has made a donation to get the road fix, beautiful ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You opened the flyer in your hand, you read the bold letters over the top,

Apple Pickers wanted weekend work. Only at Daniel Candy's Farm

"Tis nice of him to hire those with no work history or those already with a job, ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You repeated. You brought your attention to the upcoming estate, the large white manor stood out among the hues of greens, from the grass to the pine and oak trees in a neat line leading to the entrance of the manor.

The coachman helped you out of the carriage, "Now, miss, memba' to curtsey and all that."

"Thank you, and thank you for being so kind."

"I only hire the best."

Your breath caught in your throat, eye bugged out to the tall man who appeared to appear as if from nowhere. You looked up, the source of the voice, the deep baritone still carried itself within you.

"My coachman, I only hire the best, shall you prove me right?" His voice was like thick honey, his onyx eyes were warm, his hand was large with not a hint of labor upon it.

You froze, swallowed a hesitant hello, hand reached for his, "It's is very nice to meet you," His hand melded in yours, his thumb rubbed the back of your hand in small delicate circles, "Mr. Robitaille"

"Daniel works just fine." He flashed a bright smile, his eyes twinkled as they stared into yours.

"Daniel," you bite your lip, "It's nice to meet you, Daniel." and curtseyed.

He led you along a light dirt path adjacent to the abundant apple trees. The birds in the trees sang a beautiful melody, they danced between the trees, the songs becoming more jovial as you and Daniel walked.

"You'll be working for the next three weeks, Thursdays," He waved to one of the workers picking apples, "Fridays," He nodded at a male with a wheelbarrow full of apples, "and Saturdays." He placed his large hand on your upper back, "If that is alright with Mr. Heelshire?"

You squeaked at the mention of Brahms, "Ah, yes,"

"Hesitation my dear, would he not be so accepting of a free woman working where she pleases?"

You shook your head, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "It's not that, he just..."

"He doesn't know." Daniel finished for you with a knowing laugh.

You shied away from his words, eyes took in the mass of workers, happily picking apples, chatting with one other, the made it look easy being up twenty feet high on the ladder to pick the apples.

"Pray tell," Daniel removed his hand from your upper back, "Why do you need this job?"

"Well, money." You said earnestly. "I could use the extra money is all."

"For family?" He asked, accepting an apple from one of his workers. He admired the deep red color, "A gift for Mr. Heelshire?"

You wrung your hands together. You chocked in a breath, "It's private."

Daniel stopped, a low chuckle as you had noticed he stopped. He grinned as you fiddled with your fingers, face turned to the ground, a coy smile over your delicate features.

"What's his name?" Daniel stepped to you, his baritone sent a shiver down your spine. "I'd like to hear it be spoken from such shy lips." Daniel rolled the apple in his hand, nudged it towards you, gesturing for you to take it.

You hesitated, your hands shook as you tentatively grabbed the apple. You stared at the red fruit, the color deep and rich, "His name is Daniel Cain, well, Dan, he goes by Dan."

A startled laugh erupted from Daniel. You jumped, eyes darted to the workers around you, their eyes fell upon Daniel. "Do tell, does this Dan Cain happen to be studying at University of London?"

You stammered out, "Yes,"

"How admirable. So tell me, a gift for the young man?"

"No, it's." You roll the apple in your hand, you looked up at Daniel, "A new dress, I wish to look beautiful, well," You grimaced, "At least while with him."

Daniel frowned, his hand reached for yours, you gasped as he held firm, "Pardon for being cliche, but you are already beautiful, How your hair shines in the sun, to how the sun lights up your eyes, your timid nature is quite endearing." He winked at you.

"Come," Daniel gestured, "I shall introduce you to Carrie, she'll be your site boss for the next three weeks."

You jump from the front door slams open, Brahms shouting as he entered, "Please come to the foyer, my love."

You cringe, the nickname spills so easily from him, saying it like it was second nature, "Yes, Sir, be there soon."

"This instant, my love. I need you here."

Your eyes linger on the half-set table, too busy with your dancing and reminiscing to fully finish your job. "Coming, Sir!"

You walk out of the drawing-room, feet picking up pace as you make your way down the narrow hall, the green carpet embroidered with gold string, bought in Egypt, fairly recently. The walls a dark wood, matching the soil in the garden. The small lamps light up the hallway in a yellow hue. The walls lined with portraits of Heelshires past, their eyes unnerved you with every quick walkthrough you made through the hallway.

Brahms sighs and lets his shoulders relax as you step into view. He removes his jacket, tossing it on the coat rack, "Are the Victorian sandwiches done? Is the Ginger Beer ready?" He asks while loosening his tie, his adam's apple bobbed, "Hm?"

You wince "I was a little distracted, I'm terribly sorry, Sir."

"Brahms, we've been over this, my love, you may call me Brahms."

"Sorry, Brahms." You choke out his name, "Is there anything you need of me at this moment?" You place a warm smile over your face, eyes looking at him as he took off his custom-made shoes.

"Is it so bad for a man to want a woman to greet him when he's come after a hard day's work?" His bright smile made rock in place, heart thumping rapidly in your chest. "You know how good it feels to see your warm face as I get home?"

"I can't say I do." You answer earnestly.

"Do you not feel a sense of joy as I come home?"

You squint your eyes, gaze adverting his, you cough "Yes, I do." You look back at him, "I am simply your maid, Si-Brahms." You gesture to him to follow you down the hall, "I feel great joy when I see you come home to your...home."

"Our home. This place is just as much mine as it is yours." Brahms steps in front of you, gesturing for you to follow him. "You sleep here, eat here, are here every weekend..." He glances at the paintings in the dimly lit hall, "I mean, you must like it if you are here in your free time."

You flinch, nails scratching in the back of your hand, "Uhm, Yes."

Brahms reaches the table as he stares back at you, his eyes narrow, "Sit." He pulls out the ornate chair, his hand padding down the expensive leather, "Enjoy lunch with me."

You smooth your dress from behind as you sit, scooting up as he pushed you closer to the table. Brahms rounded the table, a jovial smile as he sat himself across from you, delicately placing a napkin on his lap.

"Now, how has your day been?" He starts, shoving a victoria sandwich in his mouth, rolling his eyes in ecstasy, "Mhm, my love this is delicious, you outdid yourself."

You giggle, shaking your head, "No, Brahms it's nothing. Just same old same old."

"You sell yourself too short." Brahms clears his throat, "This weekend," He wiped his hands of crumbs, "My son is coming home, he hasn't been excelling at school like he should be," He took a sip of the ginger beer, an approving smile after he gulped, "So I shall be sending him to a nearby crammer school."

You nod, "I'm sure in the end it'll work out for the best." He sips the beer, letting the taste linger on your tongue, "After all, probably be for the best he comes back home. I can imagine boarding school can be isolating after a death," You froze, eyes wide in panic as you glance at Brahms, "I'm so sorry." You place down the glass of beer.

Brahms laughs, the corner of his lips pulling up, "No no, don't be sorry, it's very true." He sips again, "Very true. Ever since Gerti crossed onto the other side, little Lawrence has been lost." He coughs, "He'll be more than thrilled to be home, hid loving father, his second favourite lady ready to greet him with open arms."

"This weekend?" you ask, "This Saturday?"

Brahms stills, his eyes squint, "Yes, I already said this weekend."

Your throat constricts, a burning sensation spreads throughout you. You look away, eyes catching on the ornate couch.

Brahms reaches his hand out to you, his thumb running on the back of your hand, "My love, what?" He raises his brow, leaning in, "What's the problem with Saturday?"

"I have something private to attended to." You state, eyes falling back to his, "I won't be here to greet Lawrence." You swallow, the burning searing through you, "I'm terribly sorry."

Brahms stood up, one stride and he was at your side, "Tell, why won't you be there? It mustn't be family matters, they live awfully far away, days by train." He leans in, "Something in town perhaps?"

You nod with a smile, "I shall be away this coming Friday and days thereafter, a flower picking job just a town over, the lady of the manor is allowing me room and board, very sweet of her." You sip more ginger beer, hands shaking as you brought the glass to your chapped lips.

Brahms places his large hand on your upper back, "Flower picking job?"

"Yes."

"What flower?"

"Excuse me?"

"What flower are you picking?" Brahms leans in closer to you, his other hand resting on the table, "I'm sure you know."

You grin at him, "Narcissus, beautiful flowers." You gulp back more ginger beer.

"That's a nice flower. Beautiful." He leans in closer, his eyes holding a critical glint. "Pray tell, how will you be picking a flower out of season?" He smiles down at you, licking his teeth, his hand clenches around yours. Your mouth agape, breath held. You choke as he leans closer to you, "I know apples are in season."

The air felt thick, the air from your lungs fell from your mouth in rapid breaths, the grandfather clock ticked, each one was felt in your spine. You jump as the grandfather clock thunders out his five pm chime.

You breathe in, "It's only for three weekends," You start, "No more than that."

Brahms chuckles, his fingers pressing into your back, "No more than that...why?" He rests his elbow on the table, chin in his palm, "Why the work when I could easily up your pay."

Your lips in a tight line, eyes dry, bugging out as you stare into his, "Savings." You lie.

Brahms slides his arm around your shoulder, his bicep flexing on the back of your neck, his hand running up and down your arm. He leans into your ear, "If by savings, do you mean Dan?"

[script-nef]

Tokyo to France

Category: fluff

1.6k words; Office date [1/6]

Gojou Satoru is many things. The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, an official title which is proven often to be true; humanity's ray of light in the fight against cursed spirits—see the "strongest sorcerer" bit; a teacher at the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu Specialty High School even though most, if not all, of the Sorcerers Exclusive don't really approve of him; and a total bother. 

He has an aloof and laid-back aura, indicating he doesn’t really care about much other than his missions and his occupation as a teacher. He’s whimsical and spontaneous, sometimes selfish in the extreme, putting his desires—like his all-too-often snack breaks—first ahead of anything, except for critical situations. And even then he might still not come. Add his total disregard for higher-ups who pretend to see the “bigger picture”, and there’s a lot of reasons why everyone he’s ever met—well, most of everyone since the newest kid Itadori is yet to experience the full "Gojou's shitty antics" ride just yet but it'll come soon, you can tell—are often annoyed by him.

And the one person who experiences this more than anyone is you, who's currently suffering under his relentless chatter after another successful mission. He always does this, like you’re the only person in the world he can talk to (read: bother).

You don't have anything specific against the man, he’s usually a good friend and a welcomed fellow sweets enthusiast, it's just that you're currently behind on your assigned paperwork and he's a great distraction. His tales are often laced with humour and he has a natural knack for storytelling. The fact that Gojou has a nice, soothing voice which beckons for your attention is also a factor. If you didn't have work you'd be fully invested in his recount but as previously discussed, he has shitty antics and one of those is not particularly caring about whether the other person is busy or not. 

He keeps talking and words like “egg tart”, “Shibuya” and “internationally famous” slip through your defence, forcing your brain to block out the lengthy paragraphs on the report and enticing you to listen to him. After a while, you decide that this is getting nowhere. You can’t remember the last couple of paragraphs and Gojou is usually relentless, but you can hear his voice weakening just a bit as you pretend to ignore him. 

Resigning yourself from the work and leaning back onto the chair, you make pseudo-eye contact with him. He seems to brighten up just a bit when you do so, the strength of his voice returning. That makes a ghost of a smile appear on your lips. You'll just have to pull an all-nighter after your dinner with Ken-chan. 

Gojou always has great stories about his trips everywhere, both in Japan and overseas. Having a teleportation skill is incredibly useful, you realise with envy. If only I had his inherited techniques is a thought which pervades your mind often. 

"And I was so close to getting the egg tart but the person in front of me bought the last one! I waited for an hour! For nothing!" The story is topped off with a small pout as he slouches on the chair, chin sitting on the backrest. You laugh, amused at the sudden change of mood. Only he could go from happy and light-hearted to gloomy and dejected in a breath, jokingly or not.

An easy conversation flows between the two of you as you finally disregard your work, chin resting on your palm and eyes crinkling with laughter. 

It’s nice like this. He’s been coming around the office more lately, sometimes armed with sweets and sometimes with an agenda to whisk your time away for his use because he’s bored. It’s mostly fine because a person to talk to is welcomed after a couple of hours by yourself, staring at lit screens until you can feel your eyes die off. You once got a scare because everything had a weird white outline when you finally diverted your eyes from the screen. In a sense, he was keeping your sight safe. He smiled when you said that, replying “Glad I can be of service!” before rattling off another description of a strawberry cheesecake he found in Belgium.

“It must be so nice, being able to teleport places. It takes me so much time just to travel within Japan, honestly such a bother. And I can’t really go overseas either with so many tasks to do with all the cursed spirits running around.” Sighing, you slouch on the desk and bury your face in your arms, missing how Gojou’s lips immediately quirk up.

“I can take you there, you know.” Your head shoots up at that, staring at him with wide eyes. “I can take you anywhere. How about France? We’ll be there in the blink of an eye. We can spend a couple of hours there, eat as many pastries as we want to and just snap right back here. What do you say?” His foot taps on the ground repeatedly, like he’s nervous or agitated. Is he in a hurry or something?

Well, it doesn’t take you long to come to a decision. The offer sounds nice. Really, really nice. 

It’s been a while since you had a break. Not like you can take a long one since cursed spirits are unpredictable in their appearances and need constant attention so that civilian casualties don’t occur. Which means the workflow never stops coming. A trip to pastry country sounds amazing.

“Sure, that sounds good. We need to set up a ti—”

“Gojou-sensei!”

The door slams open, the sound echoing through the hallway and the office. Gojou’s new student, Itadori Yuuji, leans on the door while gasping for breaths. 

“Hey, Yuuji! What’s the rush?” 

“We’re supposed to be training! I was waiting in the room for the past 10 minutes!” A quick glance at the clock indicates 6:40 and you finally notice the sun setting over the mountains. The fading light paints the room in a golden warmth, which makes you wonder why you didn’t notice how fast time was flying. Probably because you were too invested in your conversation with your friend.

Who is now picking himself up from the chair and putting up theatrics by brushing off non-existent dust from his pants. Small giggles escape at his antics. A glance at Itadori tells you he’s close to dying from either dehydration or exhaustion. He must have run all over the campus trying to find Gojou. You wonder why he doesn’t just use his phone. You do live in the fifth technological age and sort of expect a teenager like him to be able to use one.

“Itadori-kun, do you want some water?” Rising out of your seat, you reach for a cup but Gojou’s hand stops it by covering yours. He twists your hand in his and interlaces his fingers with yours.

“No, it’s fine. We’re going to go now. Think about the time and date, okay? Keep in mind the time difference.” He gives the connected hand a slight jiggle as a farewell, skipping out of the room with a bright “Goodnight!” He’s initiating a lot more physical contact recently. Wonder what that’s about.

Itadori watches the scene unfold from the doorway, jaw slack. His eyes follow Gojou but as soon as he’s out of the room, they snap to you. He stares at you so intensely that it looks like his eyes are going to pop out of its sockets pretty soon. You have no idea why he’s staring at you like this and why he’s not following his teacher. It’s like he’s frozen solid in his spot.

Some—read all—of his students sometimes complain about his walking speed, how he purposefully uses his leg length as an advantage and briskly walks on ahead, leaving them in the dust. Some—again, read: all—of your co-workers said the same thing as well. You asked him about it one day and he replied with a great big smile, “I just do it for fun!” He doesn’t do it to you, though. It’s weird because he does it at least once to everyone else you ever met, even your own brother, despite him being only a few centimetres shorter than Gojou. It apparently played a part in his reluctance to partner up with him. Or just generally hang out with him. You wish he’d give Gojou a chance, he’s not that bad once you get to know him. 

Hm, maybe I just don’t have an interesting enough reaction for him. Am I not interesting? Is it a really weird and backhanded way of telling me I’m boring? The train of thoughts takes off, expanding and multiplying until you realise Itadori is still imitating a befuddled statue.

You stare at him. He stares back. He doesn’t break eye contact. This is a really weird thing to think right now but he would absolutely crush everyone at a staring contest. 

“Itadori-kun? Don’t you need to go?” That seems to startle him out of his stupor. 

“Ah, ye—yes! Sorry for interrupting!” Before you can assure him that there was nothing to interrupt, the poor boy stumbles out of the room and also manages to bonk his head on the door and wall no less than twice. Yelps of “I’m okay!” and “Don’t worry!” followed by his running stops you from checking up on him.

“Man, Gojou must really have his hands full taking care of such a clumsy boy. Thank God Fushiguro is a bit more calmer. Now, where and when should we go… Probably should find out the time difference like he said… Oh! Maybe I can invite Shouko and Ken-chan to come along! They need to get out and have a holiday as well. I’m sure Gojou won’t mind if I invite them.”

Masterlist | Next chapter →

[karis-the-fangirl]

Out of Tune, a Kristanna AU for @frozines Summer Lovin’ issue

Thank you @punkpoemprose for the mood board and for organizing and editing the zine!

The snow started the morning after she left the palace.

Anna had heard the distant clock tower bells, and begun counting in her head–five minutes for her maid to realize that the lump of blankets in the bed contained no princess, fifteen minutes for the panic among the servants to reach Kai, the steward, five minutes for Kai to arrive at the queen's office (it was three flights up, and he wasn't a young man anymore) and break the news to Elsa. Another five minutes for it to sink in that her advice ('if you hate it so much here then leave!') had finally been followed.

Half an hour, give or take a few minutes, and the first fluffy snowflake caught on Anna's eyelashes.

A few hours later there were drifts up to her knees and she was struggling to walk. Anna hugged her cloak around her, the hood pulled close around her face, and fought for every step.

She knew that she'd have to turn around and go home eventually–she'd known it even when she was climbing out of her window. If she were really running away instead of play-acting she probably should have brought a change of clothes, or food, maybe even a tent. She would have planned a destination–taken a ship, actually left Arendelle for real, looked for some kind of work….

Instead she was trudging through the trees, not actually going anywhere, just going…away. For a bit. And soon she'd run out of energy, and turn around and go back, and apologize to her sister, and pretend that everything was fine for a month, or a year, or a week, before she couldn't stand the quiet and picked a fight with Elsa again, and ran away. Again.

Anna sighed, the heavy breath curling around her like steam in the cold air. It was all so stupid, and she should know better and it wasn't fair to everyone else in the country, that they should have to deal with the snow because of her (a little voice in her head whispered that Elsa could work harder at controlling herself, or even that she should have given Anna permission to travel outside the castle in the first place, which was all that she was really asking for…).

“Just a little farther,” she muttered. Her lips tingled with the cold and her feet felt like ice, but just a little farther and she'd be the farthest from the castle that she'd ever been, high enough to see the town spread out below, and to see the valley on the other side….

Ducking her chin down against the wind, Anna pushed forward, barely noticing the high standing stones until she was already between them.

--------------------------

There was something wrong in the world.

He lifted his face to the wind, sniffing it, tasting the magic riding on the air currents, and he growled.

He had been guarding the magic of the mountain for a long time, so long that he barely remembered the time before, when a lost boy had stumbled into the valley and been welcomed, sheltered, given a home. He and the mountain had grown together, until it seemed that they breathed in tandem, exhaling the same misty air. The mountain taught him magic, the valley sheltered him, the forest and its creatures fed and clothed him, and he guarded them in return, keeping the magic flowing through the lines of power safe and unblemished, to keep the natural world in balance.

But something had thrown the seasons out of their proper order, and not for the first time.

He could feel the mountain in his bones, speaking to him through the soles of his feet, warning him. “I will find the one responsible,” he promised, laying a hand on one of the great stones. “I will restore the balance.”

There was a thrum beneath him, a ripple of magic that made the fur along his spine stand up. He growled.

Something had invaded his valley. Something was out of place.

He turned, body tense to confront the threat--

--just as the human girl blundered into his arms.

--------------------------

Anna screamed as the bear loomed up in front of her, but she wasn't fast enough to escape the long arms that grabbed her. She flailed, struggling and kicking, but the bear caught her arms in one hand, and–

She jerked back, her hood falling off of her hair as she stared up into a human face–except he snarled at her, teeth bared. Anna yanked her wrist out of his grip and her balled fist smacked into his jaw.

He snorted, shaking his head. “Ow.”

“I'm sorry,” Anna gasped.

They stared at each other. His eyes were brown, framed by a shaggy golden mane. Branching horns rose from his temples like a crown. A heavy fur draped around his shoulders, but his chest was bare, thick hair the same gold as his mane tapering down his stomach to the loincloth around his hips.

She blushed, then yelped as a hand caught her chin, tilting her face up and bringing her nose to nose with the stranger.

--------------------------

She smelled strange–sweet, like honey, and something else. He traced a finger across her cheek, soft and smooth and pink, speckled like a faun. Eyes like deep pools of water stared up at him. Heavy tails of fox-fur red rested over her shoulders.

“You are not the source of the imbalance,” he said, his voice harsh and rusty from disuse. “But,” he frowned, “the imbalance followed you. It clings to you.”

“What?” She shivered, pushing at his chest with one small hand–it was like ice against his skin, and he frowned. “What–who are you?”

“I'm Kristoff. You're too cold. Come.”

He swung his fur from his shoulders and draped it around her. She gasped, stumbling under its weight, and he frowned again. “You are weak?”

“I am not,” the girl huffed.

“I can carry you, if you are weak.”

“I can walk by myself, thank you.”

He grunted, but took her cold hand in his anyway, leading her deeper into the valley.

--------------------------

Anna sat at the edge of the water, staring down at her feet. Her toes were pink and warm.

“It will warm the rest of you, if you come deeper in.”

She looked up without thinking, and then was caught staring at the wild stranger that had led her here.

He stood waist deep in the hot spring, mist rising around him in curls, so that he seemed like something out of a dream–maybe that's it, she thought. Maybe I'm just dreaming, I fell in the snow and hit my head, and–but could she ever have dreamed up those broad, sculpted shoulders? Where would she have found the inspiration for the line of his spine, or the dimples just above the curve of his buttocks, vanishing into the lapping water…and she would never have been able to dream up the blue whorls that decorated his skin, or the way they glowed in the fading light.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and Anna squeaked.

“I'm warm enough here! Thank you. I don't have any dry clothes to change into, anyway. And I need to get home, my sister will have people looking for me–”

He just nodded, sinking deeper into the water. “Then I will ask the mountain to let them in.”

“What?”

The branching antlers disappeared into the water, leaving ripples behind them, and even as Anna jumped to her feet she heard shouts behind her, echoing from the trees.

“Princess! Princess Anna!”

--------------------------

Crouched on the far bank, Kristoff watched them go, the fox-red hair bundled up under a fur lined hood, surrounded by men dressed all in the same stiff clothing, like a cardinal among a flock of crows.

But she'd dipped her feet in the water–no matter where she walked, he would be able to follow her footsteps.

Kristoff rubbed his bruised jaw, staring after her.

He would see her again.

[hops-hunny]

okay! sooo can you do a blurb where the reader walks in on nev watching porn and smoking a blunt and at first he is just like “oh shit sorry” but then the reader suggests they watch it together and smoke together but then they both just get immensely turned on so they just end up fucking

PRONOUNS: SHE/HER

YEAH I CAN DO THAT OML POTHEAD NEV HEHEEE

(Y/n) and Neville were an odd duo to say the least. No matter how high the girl was, her natural shy demeanor still remained. This would be fine if Neville wasn't the exact opposite. Anything he wanted to say or do, he would do it no questions asked. Whether it was walking around the castle in his underwear, hitting up a hot girl for head, or what he was doing now.

At the moment, Neville was beyond thankful for muggle technology. If he would've known they had access to porn in video format, he would've started using it a while ago. It wasn't like they didn't have porn in the wizarding world, it was just in moving picture format. You could only see the same blonde bimbo wave at you so many times before you got sick of it. He coughed some as he hit his blunt, pulling his dick out his pants stroking it a bit. He had the dorm to himself for a few hours so he wasn't too concerned about any unexpected visitors. He continued to puff at his joint, choking on his moans as the full figure woman on the screen continued to let the guy fuck her face.

"H-hey Nev, you told me to come around at this time to pick up some more wee- Oh my! I'm so sorry!" he heard a familiar voice squeak out and the sound of something dropping on the floor. He looked up at his crush, smiling at how cute she looked. She had her eyes covered with both of her hands causing the crop top she was wearing to ride up revealing a bit of under boob. He bit his lip some before taking one last puff of his blunt, sitting it down in the ashtray.

"You're quite alright. I forgot I told you to come around at this time." He stood up, stretching as he let out a lazy yawn. Walking over to his dresser, he pulled out a draw pulling out an ounce. He walked over to the girl, pulling one of her hands away from her face as he placed the weed into her hand. "Here." he mumbled. The girl opened her eyes, screeching as she saw he was still unclothed.

"Why didn't you put any clothes on?! Are you crazy?" she squeaked out, going to cover her eyes with her free hands but was stopped by the tugging on her wrist. She looked up at him confused.

"Did you plan on staying? If so let me put some clothes on, we could watch a movie or something." the girl stood there pondering it for a moment. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but that was something to think about later when her crush wasn't feet away from her in the nude.

"Yeah, I thought we could smoke together. We always do on Sundays but I didn't take into consideration that you may have...other plans." She sat on his bed, watching as he tucked himself into a pair of grey sweatpants, running a hand through his brown locks before turning back to her. "Do...do you wanna watch it together?"

"'Scuse me?" he asked with a shocked expression, not too sure if he heard the girl right.

"I said do you want to watch it together? The porn that is. I-it could be a laugh!" she said, forcing an awkward laugh of her own out. When he turned around she face palmed, grabbing the bong from his other night stand as she lit it, taking a huge rip. She coughed, half from the weed and half from Neville unexpectedly jumping onto the bed next to her.

"I'll just pick a random one." he said, looking on the computer screen before selecting one at random. He relaxed, leaning back on the headboard as the pornographic noises began to sound off. However, (Y/n) was tense. She continued to take rips from the bong, her nerves flying away with each one as she collapsed into his side. However, her (e/c) eyes couldn't help but widen at the sight on the screen.

"H-hey Nev? Is it just me or do they kinda look like..." she trailed off looking at the lanky brown hair boy on the screen who had his head buried between a pair of legs that belonged to a girl with (h/c) hair that was a similar color to her own. Although they didn't look exactly like them, the resemblance was quite ironic given their current situation.

"Us? Now that you mention it..."He trailed off, eyes trained to the screen. Subconsciously he began to stroke at himself through his pants which didn't go unnoticed by the girl to his left. He let out a force laughed to break through the silence between them. "Yeah it does. Except we'd never...you know."

Yeah, yeah! Of course not..." she trailed off joining him in the awkward force laughter. Neville looked down at the girl to find that her eyes were already fixed on him. As if they shared a brain, she leaped into his lap as he crashed their lips together, gripping at her ass through her thick sweatpants. He sucked on her tongue causing her to let out a moan as she reached down, pulling off her top. He shuddered at the feeling of her bare chest pressed against his, moaning as he began to massage at her boobs. (Y/n) let out another small moan, grinding down onto Neville's already hard cock.

The Gryffindor lifted the girl up, pulling her sweats down just enough as she did the same to his before sinking down onto him. The smaller girl pulled away from the kiss, gasping as she threw her head back eyes clenched shut in pleasure. Neville chuckled some, gripping her hips as he moved her up and down a bit causing the girl to errupt in choppy moans.

"Look at you. You can barely take me, tight little thing. I'm practically splitting you in half." she whimpered at his words, clenching around him causing him to let out a guttural moan at the heat from her velvety walls. He gripped her hips with great strength as she began to meet his thrust, failing miserably. He moved his grip to her hips, jack hammering his large cock into her. With each thrust, he felt like he was going to cum at any second from how wet and tight she was.

"'Magined this so many times! It feels so much better than my fingers." she whimpered into his neck, digging her nails deep into his back as he continued to fuck her senseless.

"Yeah? Dirty girl. I can't believe you had your fingers in your knickers thinking bout me." he teased through gritted teeth, reaching a hand down to rub at her clit. With each passing moment, the clenching her muscle was doing around his dick became more and more frequent. "Come on darling, cum for me. Let's cum together." He gritted, moving the grip on her hip to her ass, fucking her like his life depended on it.

(Y/n) was in a cock drunk daze, not a single thought going through her mind but the need to cum. She continued to whimper, drool seeping out and onto Neville's shoulder as she begged him to make her cum. With each thrust, his heavy cum filled balls would smack onto her most sensitive areas. With one last cry, she came. Neville not too far behind nestled himself deep inside before spilling his load, endless amounts spilling and pouring into the girl's poor fucked out cunt. (Y/n) felt herself become even more lightheaded, a combo of post cum bliss and the intense loud that had filled her lungs an hour prior.

"You look so pretty when you cum. I could look at that for ages."

"Nev!"

[shoot-the-oneshot]

DIRTY

Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: language and slight violence

He hated her, he hated her the second she walked into his station all chummy chummy with the mayor, who he’s been trying to get down here for a face to face for ages. Having the current mayor on his side would definitely help him when election comes back around. Lee plasters on a fake smile when the pair get to his office door, pulling his duty belt up a bit higher from where it’s fallen.

“Mayor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He stood, shaking the older mans hand ignoring the woman all together, she was wearing one of their uniforms so he figured if she’s a new deputy she would learn who runs this show and if she didn’t well, he could show her himself one night on patrol. While he wasn’t looking forward to having a girl around a female officer on the department would look great to the voters, he silently thought.

“Bodecker, I think it’s high time we have a talk,” the mayor stated making himself way to comfortable in his office. The brief thought that he knew of his extra curricular activities ran through the sheriff’s head. But Lee knew how the real world worked if anything the mayor should be shaking his hand in appreciation for keeping this shit hole safe, the whole town should in his opinion.

“Now Lee, I know this won’t be easy to hear so I’m just gonna’ come out with it. Miss Y/L/N, is taking over your position as sheriff.”

If Lee wasn’t so appalled at the new information he would’ve seen the shock on the womens face as well. But he was to locked in on the mayor to notice. But for once he took his sister’s advice and took a deep breath, surly it wasn’t what he thought and instead the man was presenting him with the news that Lee himself was taking over as mayor and of course he couldn’t be in the role of sheriff if he were to take over. That had to be it, Lees work had finally paid off. All those late nights in the company of meaningless women would end, he’d have to find a sweet girl to fit the image of a mayors wife. That might be hard to do in this small town but he’d figure it out. He was pulled from his inner planning as the mayor rose from his seat.

“I’m sure you can find a new desk out there and clear this office out for the new sheriff in town!” The old man stated proudly patting the girl on the back, who herself had just met eyes with Lee. Now she has locked eyes with many criminal in her time but she had never seen anger quite like his in this moment. Her back involuntarily straightening had the loud bark he let out.

“What!”

“Now Lee,” the mayor started, expecting an outburst, Quickly getting cut off.

“No! Do you know what I have done for this fuckin’ town? This is an elected position, one I’ve won two times over and you’re gonna’ hand it over to some bitch!”

Lee snarled his hands coming down hard on the desk filling the small office with a sharp clap.

“As mayor I can over rule an election when the elected falls short. And you have been for a while Lee, crime rates have gone up and closed cases going down. Does that sound like a good sheriff to you?”

The only sound in the room being Lee’s huffs like an angry bull when you entered its pin. Which Y/n had felt like that’s exactly what she had unknowingly done.

“The conversation is over, leave us be deputy.”

If Lees jaw could clench any harder it’d surly break. Glaring at the girl as he roughly pushed past her, the whole station hearing the argument between the two and was watching as Lee treaded to a nearby desk barking at the watchers as he went.

“Show’s over get back to your jobs!”

“Yes sherif-deputy”

The assistants sputtering only angered Lee more. Finally the mayor left and you came out of his-your office.

“I understand what a shock the must’ve been to you all, believe it or not it was to me too.” Her eyes shot over to Lee hoping he wasn’t to angry still, he was. “Anyway I know you all have a way of doing things and I’m not here to change anything so let keep up the good police work.”

The months following were rough for the ex sheriff, he never had gotten used to being sent out to deal with house parties that got to loud and the case of Mrs.Jenkins, missing poodle. That was a deputys job not his, no matter what his new title was. And you hadn’t made his time any easier.

Miss Y/n Y/l/n, at first she had tried to make friends with him and the rest of the deputies, him being the only one resisting. After finally giving up she began what he believed was a game of ‘how angry can I make Lee today’ sendin’ him out on those joke cases, all while eating his candy he had in his old office.

And to make matters worse the entire town was practically smitten with her, her sweet looks but hard hand on the crime in the area had won their hearts the crime rate dropping ninety percent in the first three months of her arrival. He had went to the library and dug up some newspaper about her, a hotshot detective from Cincinnati who was hailed a hero there after taking down a mob family, after that arrest the department saw how valuable female officers could be and she was no longer the only one within that department and hearing her success many departments followed in suit. And then she suddenly quit after making such a big name for herself So what was she doing here in this tiny town?

—————-

Knockemstiff, West Virginia. The large welcome sign reads as you drove past the trees flying by as blurs of green, the nature will take some getting used to as you didn’t have much in the city. It reminds you of the tiny potted plant you mother got you for your office when you made detective. It was a long, hard road to get there which makes leaving that much worse. You were at the highest of your career being the only women was rough the men didn’t respect you officers and criminals alike, you had to work ten times harder to make your mark and as ironic as it was when you hit that big break that’s when it all went down hill.

And here you are starting all over again and you figured it would be harder to earn the smalls towns respect. But it would all be worth it when you caught the guy you’ve been looking for. Your old boss had made a few calls when he learned your plans to chase leads on the road and one of the calls had been to the mayor of the town when he asked you to meet him at the sheriffs office you were shocked to hear you’d be taking over. You weren’t however when Lee continued to hate you for months to come, everyone said that’s just how he is but you know it was the sting of losing his position. It didn’t take you long to find out he had been dirty it was almost embarrassing how transparent it was.

But you knew if you were going to make any headway in this town when the time came you’d need someone who knew the ins and outs like Lee did, so you kept trying to get on his good side even noticing he liked sweets and breaking out the fancy ones you had from the city, you got the message quick when he threw them away staring right at you. You had one last trick up your sleeve, back in Cincinnati you partner always said cops and criminals aren’t that different it’s just the way they think. so that’s what you’ll do.

Grabbing your hat you walked out of your office boots clacking as you walked past his desk the gold name plate shining as the sunlight breaks through the windows.

“Come on Bodecker, you’re driving” you toss the keys to the cruiser over your shoulder, you know he’s following because you can feel his glare on the back of your head. You spoke as Lee slammed his door shut the car shifting under his weight a bit.

“Low level pot growers slash dealers on the outskirts of town this is their third warning.” Lee grunts is response and started driving the ride was uncomfortable to say the least.

“I know you read up on me I’m sure you have something to say about it?” Taking the glance he shot you out of the corner of his eye as a yes you continue.

“And I’m sure it’s along the lines of why I’m here?” Cue side glance again, “well when I started looking into the Galindos they didn’t take to kindly to that, they send some guys to my parents house when their threats didn’t stop me, it was completely by chance I was at their house when they came it was a big gun fight. Killed one but the others got away and they are the only members of the mafia still out there, I got the tags off the car they used and tracked it to here.”

You’d been parked outside the farm house for the last part of your story so you stepped out the car and rounded to the drivers side leaning down to meet Lees eyes through the open window.

“I want you to know I never wanted to take your position, I also know you were dirty when you were sheriff. So let’s make a deal.”

You can see him take in the information you’ve thrown at him during the short car ride, and he subtly nods “what’s the deal?”

“I know you’re not my biggest fan, but we can help each other. So deal is if you follow me we start over and you help me find the last Galindos no matter how dirty it gets.” You paused letting it sink in. “And if you don’t want to, leave me here and drive back to the station and we will never speak again, but I also won’t hold back on arresting your old buddies and we’ll see how fast they throw you under the bus.”

His eyes which you just now noticed were blue narrow at your words. Looks like country boy knows he would go down faster than milk with cookies if they got arrested. Tipping your hat you spin on your heel and head towards the run down farm house, your lips pull up hearing the car door shut behind you as his footfalls rushing to catch up.

“Didn’t think an officer of your caliber would resort to blackmail.” He grunts, as much as he hates that you’re right he also respected you a tiny bit now, lord know what he covered up for Sandy, so he understands the familial bond that you’re doing this for.

“That wasn’t blackmail, blackmail would be leaking those pictures of you on duty with a girl in your patrol car as you unload into a Pepsi cup.”

Now that made Lee pause in his steps, how the hell did she know that, he hasn’t had a girl around since she popped in. “Yeah I’ve been in town a while.” The pair make it to the paint chipped door, the deputy still slightly stunned but jumping back into action as you kicked the door down without so much as a knock first, Well that’s not protocol. The few men in the the house jump up at the sudden intrusion but are quickly pushed back down with a swift kick to the chest from you.

You know who you’re looking for you’ll leave the rest to Lee, grabbing the boy still sat at the table by his hair and yanking him face first on the floor as he yelped, knee pressing down on his back pulling his head back by your grip on his ponytail. “I’m not here for you.” Your snarled leaning down to his ear, throwing down a baggie with the families grower logo that you found outside your family home. “Next time you see the Galindos you tell them there’s a new sheriff in town.” Barley aware of the deputy entering the room you slammed the mans face down, blood already pouring out of his nose and onto the floor, that’s gonna’ stain.

Not casting Lee a glance as you strolled past him and back to the car, him on your heels, he definitely wasn’t expecting that from you. But he’d be a liar if it didn’t turn him on a bit you know what they say, the line between hate and lust is thin. At least that’s how it goes in his head.

He takes the long way back to the station wanting extra time to think how to ask his question. “You really have pictures of me?”

You looked over when you heard his gruff voice. Oh now he want to have a conversation. “I knew I’d need help with my investigation, you willing or not.”

“And how did you know I was dirty and wouldn’t have arrested you for that show back there?”

Did he think you were stupid, there were thousands of signs you just admitted to following him did he think you didn’t see his dealings. “You’re not the first crooked cop I’ve met, you let your ego get ahead of you, you were sloppy the signs were everywhere, plus.” You couldn’t help the smirk from on. “I never gave you the dealers address.”

Lee couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping his mouth, she was smart he’d give her that. “You know I think this is the beginning of a great partnership deputy, perhaps even friends.” You tease him smiling as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that!”

“No problem.....deputy.”

[alicedopey]

The Wallflower

Gorgeous moodboard made by the talented @naaladareia Thanks babe !

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Hvitserk x Plus-size reader

Genre: Modern AU, Drama, Angst, Romance

Words: 1742

Warnings: Angst, some self-depreciation (barely)

Summary: The only thing you wish for is to dance...

A/N: Here is my contribution to @youbloodymadgenius​ 1k Celebration. I’ll let you find out which famous line I picked up, it would spoil the plot. This might turn into a multipart series, depends if you like this one or not.

Your boss was a flirt. Well, one of them was, to be exact. When every employee of the food company you were working for had learnt that two young Danish men had bought the firm from your very American boss, brows were raised. What would they make of it?

Two years later, it turned out they had drastically changed it and made it one of the most famous brands of Danish food in the United States. Those different brothers seemed to complete each other and formed an effective duet.

Ivar was very professional, blunt, harsh sometimes but his mind was swirling with ideas and he knew how to deal with all the competitors his company could cross path with.

Hvitserk was…quite the opposite. He was the cook so he was very creative and more easy-going, funny, smiling and very friendly. Sometimes, he was even too friendly; you reminded yourself as you heard a fit of giggles coming from your other female colleagues on the other side of the room where Hvitserk was probably telling one of his silly stories or praising the women with endless compliments.

It would be a lie to pretend that he was not very charming but contrary to most of your colleagues, you did not take the praises coming out of his mouth very seriously. It was just in his nature to flirt with every girl he met and that also included an older and heavier woman like you. In your mind, Hvitserk could not date a woman like you but rather a perfect looking woman who would shine next to him. It was perfectly fine. Your curves were not everyone’s cup of tea but you did not mind because they were yours and you loved them – well, more like learned to love them.

“So…what did you decide to do for your reunion this weekend?”

Your brows furrowed at your closest colleague’s question and your eyes looked away from Hvitserk. “What do you mean? I already told you I was going.”

“Not that.” Lisa scoffed. “Did you find someone to go with?”

“I did not look for anybody. I’m going alone.”

“You can’t do that.” She replied in a categorical tone. “This would be highly humiliating.”

Lisa was known for being overdramatic over many things so you were not surprised she was reacting this way.

“I was single at the time, you know.” You tried to reason patiently with her. “So, it won’t be a surprise for them if that still is the case fifteen years later.”

Her eyes widened. “You are kidding, right?” She exclaimed a little bit too loud for your liking. “You have to…okay, you know what? I will help you find someone. In fact, I think my brother is free this weekend. I can ask him, he wouldn’t mind.”

“No, thank you.” You had already met the man. He was nice and handsome but not very discreet, just like his sister. “Besides, I don’t like the blind date thing.”

Lisa leaned forwards and whispered, “Pay someone then…” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Right. Paying for a man to play your date, way to boost your ego. You knew Lisa meant well but the more she kept suggesting things, the more humiliated you felt. “No.”

She looked at you as if you were too stubborn for your own good. “You know, having a date means you would be able to dance…”

You sighed. She clearly knew which weak spot to strike on. “Lisa…”

“Good morning, ladies!”

The two of you startled at Hvitserk’s voice. “What’s the topic today?”

“Convincing Y/N to bring a date to her high school reunion.” Lisa answered without thinking. She instantly mouthed an “I’m sorry” as Hvitserk looked at you questioningly.

Thankfully, he did not have the time to make any comment as Ivar entered the room. Every employee ran back to work and even Hvitserk left hurriedly to join his brother, which brought a smile to your lips.

                                               ¤    ¤

The rest of the week went in a blur. After her little mishap, Lisa did not insist on the date issue and Hvitserk did not mention anything either. He probably did not care or even remember it for that matter. So, that Friday night, you got dressed with a nice dark blue dress, high heels, called for an Uber and arrived at your high school, ready to have a good time.

The moment you entered the enormous gymnasium of your old high school when the party was taking place, you were brought back to the past. Some of your friends instantly greeted you and you were all so happy to see each other again and share some memories that none of you really lost too much time thinking about your current marital status or your professional situation.

There was a huge buffet to enjoy, the music was a nice reflecting of the past parties you had attended. Everyone enjoyed themselves on the dance floor, especially you.

Dancing was a real joy and a great opportunity to express yourself. When you were dancing, you forgot everything and everyone around you to just focus on the music and how it made you feel free and finally yourself.

Then, slow-dancing time came. This was the moment when you had to get out of the picture and go back to your usual spot, against a pillar or a wall.

Being curvy had its flaws when you were a teenager. You could not say you had suffered from bullying because you had a strong personality and was not afraid to fight back when you needed to. No. The worse part was during the parties. No boy would invite you to dance, even amongst your friends. It looked like friendship had its limits. You thought things could change with time since teenage years were always considered as the hardest ones when you did not fit in completely. You were clearly wrong. You were an adult now and no men wanted to dance with the fat girl. Nothing had changed and nothing would.

You watched the couples on the dance floor with a sting in your chest. It was probably time for you to go home instead of brooding like you usually did.

“Care to dance?” Your eyes turned away from the dancing couples to meet those of the owner’s voice. Your jaw opened slightly when you saw Hvitserk Ragnarsson standing in front of you dressed in a dark suit, his middle length hair tied in a loose bun.

“Come on.” He extended his hand. “Nobody puts baby in a corner.”

You smiled and put your hand in his. Hvitserk led you to the dance floor. He pulled your curvaceous body against his hard one, his hand on the small of your back and the two of you gently swayed to the music. This was completely new to you, it felt so nice. Tears were welling up in your eyes so you closed them for a few seconds. When you opened them back, the green eyes of your boss were looking at you with gentleness and concern.

You smiled. “Why are you here, Mister Ragnarsson?”

“Hvitserk.” He replied. “Why don’t we enjoy the night, first? I promise I will answer all of your questions afterwards.”

You nodded. Hvitserk winked at you.

                                              ¤   ¤

The two of you did enjoy your night. After sharing a few dances, Hvitserk met your friends. He introduced himself as your boyfriend which led you to choke on your drink. Nonetheless, you did not correct him, secretly enjoying the fact that some of your friends were watching you with some obvious jealousy. It was a nice change for once.

At the end of the night, Hvitserk offered to drive you home and you accepted. The ride was silent, awfully silent but you did not wish to break this silence. You felt almost afraid to ask him why he was here because you did not want to discover this was out of pity.

Almost too soon, he parked in front of your little house and turned off the engine. You knew there was no other chance to escape explanation time.

“You did not have to do it, you know.” You finally said, your eyed fixed on the windshield. “As I said to Lisa, I don’t mind going alone. I certainly do not need…”

“Pity?”

This made you look at him. “Exactly.”

“I don’t do the pity thing, I only do what I want to do. And I can assure you I wanted to be with you tonight…I just wish you would have asked me.”

You felt a little bit comforted at his words but choose not to read too much into them. “Thank you, then. I had a great night.”

“I did too. Would do it again whenever you want to.”

Once again, you chose to ignore any deeper meaning behind his words and simply smiled at him. He smiled back.

“So…can I get a good night kiss?”

You burst out laughing at this. Now, that was more like Hvitserk. You chuckled, leaned in and kissed his cheek. His facial hair tickled your lips. Then you realized what you had just done, meaning pecking your boss on the cheek and abruptly straightened up. Heat was creeping up your neck and ears. Hvitserk was looking at you with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

“I did not know you had watched Dirty Dancing.” You blurted out to embarrass him. He chuckled though.

“I never did. I heard it from one of the ladies at the office. Guess I spend too much time in marketing.”

He winked and you felt yourself blushing again although this time, you smiled at him.

“Good night, Hvitserk.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You got out of the car, walked to your front door, opened it then closed it behind you without even looking back at him once. You did not wish to show him he had charmed you even more, particularly because you were convinced he was not interested in you at all.

But Hvitserk’s eyes never left your body, enjoying its every curve until you had disappeared behind your closed door. Then he started his car and left, a satisfied smile lingering on his lips.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @gearhead66​ @therealcalicali​ @ivarswickedqueen​ @akamaiden​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @mblaqgi​ @captstefanbrandt​

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My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 20 A Fight in Hosu City

A/N: Anther late post, but at least I'm getting back into the groove(: Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

When your party arrived in Hosu City it was sundown. Endeavor had assembled a small team of his sidekicks to accompany him on the trip, along with you interns, causing everyone to travel in two separate vehicles. The ride there was spent in silence, save for the few moments Endeavor had spoken about the parameters of the mission. Thoughts drifting back to what you learned as you exited the car, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“What exactly are we going to Hosu for?”

Todoroki had spoken up from his spot beside you in the backseat, causing Endeavor to glance at him through the rearview mirror.

“Hosu was the last area the Hero Killer was said to have attacked in-- based on what we have gathered, he will most likely still be in the city.”

“What’s still keeping him there?” You question without thinking, feeling taken aback as Endeavor’s attention turned to you.

“In the last seven cities, the Hero Killer has left at least 4 injured or killed. So far, in Hosu, he has only managed one injury-- just one. Assuming he’ll keep his track record, we’ll catch him.”

You involuntarily begin to think about your class representative; Iida had seemed a bit off these last few days, and you couldn’t blame him--not with everything that happened.

News about Ingenium spread like wildfire, as the media desperately tried to keep the latest coverage on the Hero Killer and his victims. With how much you knew Iida loved and looked up to his elder brother, the constant reminder must have been dealing a number on his mental health.

Wait, wasn’t Iida also in Hosu, for his own internship?

You stare down in your lap, playing with your fingers in hopes to get rid of your nerves-- you can only hope Iida will be alright, that he’ll stay safe.

Shaking the memory away, you spring back to the present; masses of people steer clear of the heroes, walking in a group down the street. As whispers begin to flood by, Endeavor made the quick decision to split the group up--you, Todoroki, and Endeavor, while the three sidekicks formed another--trying to dwindle the attention you’ve already received.

Besides the gaping stares from the public, there was hardly any activity in Hosu-- the peace much more prominent during this patrol versus the night before. Glancing around to look at the unfamiliar faces, you couldn’t help mirroring the smiles most of them held; the people were safe and happy, and you hoped it stayed that way.

Beside you, Shoto watched as you looked around the area with a smile, wondering just why your face held that expression. He too took in the sights around him, only being able to see normal people going about their business. You were pretty strange, but he had to admit you were pretty much naturally happy; he hadn’t really cared to notice too much before, but after the sports festival--after you gave him some support he never realized he needed--he found himself noticing more and more.

The same could be said for you, but it seemed you were noticing him for being someone that was somewhat similar to yourself; it wasn’t every day you met someone like you--a kid of a top pro hero, with a little bit of a broken past.

Someone who could understand you, even if it was just slightly.

Speaking of the trauma, Endeavor marched on with his head held high, and you felt the bitterness creep in.

A great hero meant nothing if he wasn’t a great person.

Todoroki bumped shoulders with you, and you tilt your head curiously in his direction. He just gave a slight nod, and even though you weren’t completely sure what he meant, you gave a wide grin back; thoughts of terror parents leaving your mind as you forced yourself to think back to the task at hand. 

Unbest known to you, Todoroki had watched the smile slip from your face, and in attempts to quell the nervous thoughts--which, what else could you be frowning about--wanted to provide some reassurance.

Endeavor’s sudden stop had you quickly following suit, in an attempt to not run straight into his back, wondering the reason. There were still quite a few people amongst the streets, the stars starting to become visible as the night came to life. Before you or Todoroki could question him, you felt the tremors of the earth below.

‘An earthquake? What could be-’

Smoke rose from behind the buildings, sirens blaring towards the center of the city. No other words were needed, the three of you quickly rushing off to reach the destination--eager to understand what could be happening. Endeavor was nowhere near as fast as he was previously, most likely allowing you and Shoto to keep up with him in this real, unknown event. 

This didn’t seem like the Hero Killer, according to all the news coverage on the villain, he acted in areas that would draw him the least amount of attention.

What good would he gain from causing a panic, smack dab into the middle of the city, do?

Once you were closer than you were before, yet not close enough to see what was happening, a buzzing from your pocket caught your attention.

 Normally, you would’ve left it alone--seeing as how you had more important things to worry about, but the confusion on Todoroki’s face as he pulled out his own device had you doing the same.

“There’s trouble ahead! I’ll show you what it means to be a real hero, Shoto!”

Ignoring the pro, you opened a message from Deku, eyebrows furrowing as the only thing you read was his current location. You read the address and your heart began to pound--it stated he was in Hosu, not too far from where you were. 

He wasn’t interning in Hosu, there could be no way he was anywhere near here. Plus, he never sent anything without an explanation, and knowing the way Izuku is, you would get plenty of it. 

He wouldn’t be so, so vague.

Not unless he had to be…

“His location?” Todoroki mumbled, eyes growing wide as he came to the realization.

Quickly locking eyes, you both nodded in agreement before turning around and running the way you came.

“Hey, wait! Where the hell are you two going!?”

“An alleyway at 4210 Echo Street!” You shout back.

“If you finish with what you’re doing, or see any extra pros, send them there. I’m leaving you here to take care of this trouble, I’m sure you can handle it yourself.” Shoto adds.

With that taken care of, the pair of you make your way to the location, going as quickly as you can with the help of your quirks. 

The crowd thinned out as they were trying to get away from the chaos, you could see flames rising higher than before somewhere over towards your right--getting smaller as you left them behind. When you couldn’t spot any more civilians--or heroes for that matter--you knew you were getting close. The unease you felt only grew, your heart pounding uncomfortably and not from fatigue. 

You heard muffled words coming from one area, and you willed your legs to move faster.

‘There, he’s gotta be there!-’

The opening of the alleyway allowed you to see a man hovering over a person, who lay fallen on the ground. It was dark all the way down, no bright lights shining through, the only source of light coming from the fire from the distance, the moon, and the few buildings that were still lit up. The alleyway itself was pretty narrow, meaning there wouldn’t be a lot of chances to run away, or even hide, without leaving yourself open. Three bodies were scattered on the ground, yet what worried you the most was the large katana that was held, directly over someone’s head-

That was Iida, in less than a few moments Iida was going to be stabbed.

“GET AWAY!”

‘That scream-’

Without thinking, you wind-up your fist and aim a hardened beam of light right at his face. At the same time, a burst of flames shot out to your left, the warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. 

The man jumped out of the way, dodging both attacks that were thrown at him. You grind your teeth, allowing your hands and arms to be coated with hardened light, ready to attack as needed. Shoto’s flames burned brightly out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t give yourself time to dwell on the fact he uses his flames. There were more important things to worry about right now.

Todoroki felt the same, trying to think of the best way to handle this situation, trying to make sure he can get everyone out safe. 

“Midoriya, you need to give more details in times like this.”

You took your own moment to assess the situation, looking more closely at the ones sprawled out on the ground; Izuku, Iida, and a hero you’ve never seen before--must be a pro from the area. Deku was the only one without blood or visible injury on his body, yet he wouldn’t be on the ground unless he was forced to be-

You stare directly at the infamous Hero Killer as he stares back, a shiver running through your body at his intense gaze. What quirk could this guy possibly have--it wasn’t like Endeavor went into detail about it.

“Yea,” you nod in agreement, “we were almost too late to stop this guy.”

“Hakamata, Todoroki, not you too.” Iida spits out, his voice heavy with emotion.

“How- how did you both get here--wait, you’re using your left side, Todoroki?” Deku gasped.

“How did we get here?”

“I wonder that too,” you finish, “took us a moment to understand what the heck your message was about.”

“Yea, next time, try to send more than just your specific location.”

“But you aren’t one to send cryptic messages, not without good reason. That’s when we figured out something was wrong.” You speak as you crouch into a fighting position.

You bring both of your arms out in front of you, side-by-side, as you let out a large blast of hardened light. At the same time, Todoroki sends out a layer of ice from his foot, causing the Hero Killer to have to jump up out of the way, but also having to focus on dodging your attack. He managed to evade both, but as he jumped further away from you and the injured, it allowed Todoroki to raise the others off the ground on blocks of ice, and bring them closer--farther away from Stain. 

“But it’ll all be okay!” You put yourself in front of the injured, staring determinedly at the villain. 

“The pros will be here any minute!” Todoroki adds, sending another large blast of fire at Stain as he too stands in front of the others and right by your side.

“You’re just what they said you were,” he glares, “but you won’t be taking any more lives, Hero Killer.”

“Your terror ends here,” you agree, “we will stop you.”

“Todoroki, y/n! You guys can’t let him get your blood! I- I think he controls his enemies’ actions by swallowing it! That’s how he got us!”

“So, he ingests blood to keep people from moving?”

You crinkle your nose in disgust from Todoroki’s assumption.

“That explains the blades. We just have to make sure we don’t get hit, Shoto.”

“Yeah, we’ll keep our distance-”

Todoroki gets cut off as a blade gets thrown at his face, leaving a small cut along his cheek--his blood drawn.

“You have good friends, Ingenium!”

Stain rushes at you both, and you quickly jump in front of Shoto to create a light barrier, in hopes of throwing him back. Stain uses your shield as leverage, kicking off from it and jumping over you--blade angled to slice your back, and it would have if it wasn’t for the block of ice his sword lodge into instead. 

You swivel your body, aiming above the ice with your arm encased in hardened light to try to backhand him. Stain jumps away, avoiding the blow, using the ice to flip into the air, grabbing onto Todoroki’s shirt.

“Shoto!”

He was too busy to notice a blade that was thrown in the air, sailing down straight towards him. You quickly maneuver away from the fire he used to send Stain back, and quickly shoot a beam to knock the blade far away from Todoroki and Stain towards the opening of the alleyway. 

Back against Shoto’s side, you desperately aim at Stain while he cuts through a large mountain of ice that was sent his way. He was too fast, all you and Shoto could do was keep him at bay, while he monstrously dodged light and fire, while simultaneously cutting through ice.

You send beam after beam, only to let out a cry of pain as one of his throwing blades lodges itself deeply into your arm. 

“Luminary!”

“Y/n!”

Deku couldn’t see much of the fight firsthand--the way he was lying on his back only amounted him to seeing the bursts of bright light and flames. But he heard your shouts of pain and he found himself panicking, he needed to move. 

He needed to help, now.

Shoto took a split second to glance over, to see blood dripping down the side of your arm. He willed more ice to come and help block his right side--the side you were standing next to. He needed to cover you, to make sure you wouldn’t be in the villain’s line of sight.

You used both arms, even if your left was screaming in pain, and grunted out as you shot a large, curved beam into the air. It was as if you were sending a wave of energy, the light curving to look like a thick, glowing, gigantic boomerang--solid enough to knock into Stain and send him back over the ice.

“Just stop it.. Why are you all doing this? His fight is with me. I inherited my brother’s name! I’m the one that should stop him! THE HERO KILLER IS MINE-”

“You’re Ingenium now? Strange, the Ingenium I knew before never had that look on his face.” Todoroki grunted.

You extend your light in your hands, like a pole, swinging it at Stain. He just stepped on it, using it as a walkway to get closer to you, however, you quickly willed it to become intangible and he fell through. Getting knocked back as you shot a smaller, more compact beam at him, along with getting a barrage of flames from Shoto.

“You’ve got a dark side,” Shoto continued, breathing heavily, “Guess my family isn’t the only one.”

“Ingenium was a beacon of light to everyone around him, wasn’t he?” You question, desperately sucking in as much air as you could, “Isn’t that why you looked up to him so much, Iida?”

Your body was overheating, however, the cold air produced on Todoroki’s right side helping you to stay cool immensely yet you were sweating profusely; the water leaving your system only causing you to overheat even more--the blood leaving your body from your deep wound wasn’t helping either. 

Todoroki knew he was in better shape, but he began to grow frustrated; how can he manage to get out of this one? The pros were taking their sweet time, and now you were already injured. If there wasn’t an odd number of people, he would’ve had the both of you grab the wounded and have fled. All he could do was keep the hero killer pushed back, hoping to find a breakthrough point somewhere. 

Luckily, even as unlikely as it seemed, your quirks complimented each other--while both suited for long range attacks, yours helped with more precise and accurate shots, while he was your large field of coverage.  

Hopefully that would be enough.

“Be careful, y/n! Todoroki!” Deku yells.

All the ice Todoroki had formed as a barrier was smashed into tiny fragments in an instant, Stains guttural voice breaking through to reach your ears.

“You blocked your own field of vision, against an opponent who’s faster than you--rookie mistake, kids.”

“Come get me then-” Todoroki grunts, cut off as two throwing knives were thrown straight into his left arm. 

His flames immediately die out from the sudden attack, and you extend both arms out to send out blasts of light towards Stain.

One hits him directly, but your small victory falls short as he grips his hand around the beam and catches himself. The burning of his skin can be heard from below, yet he wastes no time in throwing a blade at you before falling through the now untouchable light, raising up his katana as he heads down towards Shoto, blade raised high to strike. 

“You’re good kids, unlike him.” Stain grins sadistically. 

The smaller blade lands right in the shoulder of the same arm he cut before, causing you to become distracted by the pain. Shoto’s arm dangles at his side as he desperately watches Stain get closer, until his body angles away from Todoroki, over you, then over the pro hero on the ground. 

“Watch out!” Shoto shouts desperately. 

You try to do something, but Stain was moving too fast--you wouldn’t make it.

Maybe you wouldn’t have made it, but someone did. A blur of green energy flies by, causing you to sway at the force. 

“Izuku!”

“Midoriya!”

Deku grabs onto Stain, somehow freed from the quirk he was placed under, and drags him against the alley’s wall; the cement crumbling from the impact of Stain's body sliding across it. 

“I’m not sure why, but I’m able to move again!” Izuku yells across the alley.

“So he’s got some sort of time limit?”

“No,” Native answers Todoroki, “if that’s the case, that kid should have been the last to be freed. I still can’t move a muscle.”

“It has to be something about multiple people then; it could be that he gets weaker the more he uses his quirk.” You gasp out, clutching your arm. 

Izuku falls, Stain landing behind him as they touch the ground. You go to yell out for him but Todoroki beats you to it, sending out a large pillar of ice to separate the two. You feel yourself leaning closer, enjoying the way it cooled you down. 

A small stream of steam rose from your body, your body temperature steadily rising. You weren’t near your limit, but the blood loss was speeding up the process, and you were nervous on what would happen if this were to drag on for much longer. Thankfully, you were situated on Shoto’s ice side, which was helping--even if just a smidge. But it wasn’t enough, this fight needed to end, quick.

Izuku crawls over to you, coughing as he squats beside you, still a bit too sluggish to stand fully upright at the moment. 

“He swallows people’s blood to freeze them, yet I was the one who was freed first.”

“People limit? Blood type?” You throw out the ideas.

“Yea, either his quirk becomes weaker the more he uses it, or even the amount ingested could play a part. Or, like you said, blood type.” Izuku mumbles, eyes calculating as if he was running all the possibilities through his mind. 

The victims of his quirk list off their blood type, just in case it could be the last suggestion, and you find out both you and Izuku share your type--type O.

It was a long shot, but those were the only things you had in your corner right now. You needed to think of a way to get everyone out of here, to make sure they got out safe. Both you and Todoroki were bleeding pretty heavily, but not enough for dire medical attention. As long as there could be a defensive position, you should be okay for now. 

Stain was just so strong.

He excelled in both offensive and defensive skills, constantly countering your combined attack as if it were nothing. You would need to have a good offense/defense play if you wanted to have a chance. 

The way Deku flung Stain around, which you were still in awe over by the way; it was like he embodied his quirk overnight, it was a clear choice that he could help offensively. Yet was that really the right choice? You guys could probably end up fighting him all night. Weren’t the pros supposed to be coming soon? But there was a panic in the middle of the city, who knows how long that would take them. How long could you all hold out until exhaustion or blood loss?

“It doesn’t really help us to know how his quirk works, though.”

“I thought we could hurry and carry those two out of here,” Shoto sighed, “but it’s no good--he’s too fast.”

He was too fast, even if you all tried to run off, he would only chase you down. You would need some sort of barrier, some sort of distraction--

That’s when it hit you, your face immediately snapping to look at the boy to your left.

“What if there was a way?”

“What?” Deku calls from your right.

“Listen, he’s too fast, that’s for sure. But if there was a way to distract him--we may have a way to get the others out to safety.”

“What do you mean-” 

You snap your face to look at Izuku midway through Todoroki’s question.

“If one of us would be able to distract him, the others can get out safely and get to the pros, right?”

“Yeah but-”

“If I allow my body to become light, I’m faster than him. I can get close enough to him, then I can keep him at bay with a light barrier or something while you both run to get those two far away from here.”

“No,” Todoroki frowned, “absolutely not.”

“There’s no way we’ll let you do that,” Deku agrees, “What happens when you turn back? You’ll be all alone with him, and at that point, he’ll be able to hurt you since he can now once again be able to physically touch you--and that’s if you don’t pass out from water loss first.”

You grit your teeth, you know they were right, but what else was there to do?

“Does it matter if you guys are all safe-”

“Yes, of course it matters.” Shoto raises his voice, surprising you. 

“We’ll do this together, okay? You both have already lost too much blood... The best way to do this is to have me to distract him with close combat, and you both support me from behind. We can hold him long enough, just until the pros arrive.”

“Okay... While it’s still a big risk, we can do this. No one gets left behind.” Todoroki glances at you.

“We’ll protect them.” You agree, thoughts of self-sacrifice replaced with ones of protection.

“Together.” Deku affirms, standing tall as he lets his energy ride throughout his body. 

You and Shoto match defensive poses, ready for the fight--ready to defend and conquer.

“Three against one, huh? This fight won’t be easy..” Stain mutters, dropping down to his own offensive position. 

A moment of silence echoes loudly throughout the area, only to be broken as Deku uses his quirk to bounce off the sides of the buildings that surrounded you.

He gets in close, desperately fighting to land a hit on the villain. While Shoto uses his ice to defend him, you use large beams of light to act as a shield for him. You grit your teeth in frustration as Stain seems faster than before, his movements more fluid and graceful as he manages to evade every hit. 

Desperation and distress clings to the surrounding area, both sides of the fight trying to get the upper hand. The intense battle has only been going on for a few moments, but to you it feels like forever. 

Izuku gets in close to try to hit Stain from behind, only to have the villain kick him back; bringing his blade in close and managing to swipe at his shin. Staggering back, Izuku falls to the ground while Stain is upon him once more, the air around him more sinister than before. 

It feels like it’s going on in slow motion, turning your head to see Shoto panting hard, clutching his shaking arm as he tries to raise it. In a panic, without thinking, you will your body to turn into light and race in front of Izuku. 

You get a brief flashback of the USJ incident; you had done the same before when Izuku had rushed off, and was about to be grabbed by Shigaraki. You had thrown him out of the way, and put yourself into his position. Thankfully the pros were there to stop the villains before it was too late, but there weren’t here now. You were here, you needed to act. 

Help him.

You stop directly in front of Izuku, creating a small, thin barrier of light behind you which surrounds him, and send off a large blast at the villain point blank. Stain, not suspecting you to be right there, was caught off guard as you managed to land your first real hit on him all night. Flying back, a barrage of fire kept you and Stain separated, separate shouts of your name went through your ears without comprehension, You were now swinging your fists repeatedly, sending attack after attack to keep him back. Through the flames you spot Stain licking his sword, and in turn Izuku grunts behind you, and that’s when you knew he'd been rendered immobilized. 

The sweat pools down your body, fatigue from the overuse of your quirk catching on as you had expended plenty of energy by converting your body into light. So much so that when you clip Stain with a bolt of light in his side, you don’t see how he manages to use that momentum and flings a knife straight at you, slicing your cheek. 

The light that had surrounded Izuku vanished once you lost focus, unable to dodge the hero killer further as he grabs on to the front of your hero costume, and leans in to lick your cheek. You try to convert your body into light once more, to turn up the heat, anything, but you’re too slow; the slimy feeling of his ridged tongue swipes across your face, and you aren’t even given a moment to grimace as your body immediately freezes. 

“Y/N!”

Your body was shutting down, despite yelling at yourself to move, your body wouldn’t listen. Your legs give out, unable to hold yourself up without feeling, and you tumble harshly to the ground. Falling onto your side, you suck in a breath as your head smacks directly into the concrete. Stars enter your vision, black pooling at the edges as you try to blink away the feeling of passing out. You feel heat above you, and horror struck as you realize you left Shoto all alone to deal with the villain. Tears pool in your eyes as you try to move, you couldn’t leave him to defend everyone by himself!

Izuku was panicking behind you, watching you fall to the ground like a lifeless doll. He knew you were alive, the small groans of pain that came from you was proof enough, but it still scared him. He was able to see perfectly as Stain viciously grinned down at the pair of you, and thoughts of seeing you getting stabbed caused his heart to twist, breaths coming out in short bursts. 

Thankfully, fire and ice separated the pair of you from the villain, and Stain in turn focused all of his attention on the only one still standing. Your head was angled just enough to see Todoroki, despite all of his ice in the way. He looked frustrated, yelling out something to Iida as he continued his defensive attacks; he was holding his own well enough, until Stain was able to bypass his field of ice and lifted his sword to aim right at his torso.

“Has anyone told you, you rely on your quirk too much? Makes you a carless fighter!” Steins ruthless words echo dauntingly in the alleyway.

Fear weighs on you as the blade inches closer and closer--if it lands, it would just about cut his arm clean off. The beating of your heart pounds in your ears, till all you hear is a white noise--the sounds of your own screams not even registering as all you could do was watch.

“TODOROKI!”

“SHOTO!”

“Recipro BURST!”

A strangled cry of relief leaves your lips as Iida uses his leg to slice the sword in half, saving Shoto from a terrible fate. Iida manages to send Stain flying back, breath heavy as he stares at the ground.

“You’re free too? Guess his quirk isn’t as great as we thought it was.” Todoroki hums. 

“Todoroki, Midoriya, Hakamata--this has nothing to do with you. I apologize.”

“Not this again.” Deku whispers. 

“Iida, please-” Your plea gets cut off as Iida stands proud.

“I’m okay, but I won’t let the three of you shed any more blood for me.”

You hear Stain’s wicked laugh as he tells Iida there’s no use in pretending--that a person can’t change in a span of a few minutes. Shoto spits back at the villain, telling Iida he shouldn’t listen to anything he says, while Iida shrugs him off.

“He’s right, I don’t deserve to call myself a hero,” he clenches his fist, and you gasp at the blood that runs heavily down his arm, “even so, there’s no way I can back down. If I give up now, then the name Ingenium will die.”

“PATHETIC.”

Shoto puts himself in front of Iida, sending off a blast of fire as another battle breaks out. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperately wanting to help. You hated not feeling like you could do anything; she whispers in your ear, calling you worthless and pathetic, and the fear kicks in double time. You weren’t proving her wrong, you weren’t proving anyone wrong. You were worthless-- you couldn’t even save your friends; you were weak, you were no good, you were--

“Hey, you did amazing.” 

Her voice stopped, the harsh words going away as you locked eyes with Izuku’s bright green ones, a smile on his face. He gently, and quietly, lifted your body up and placed you sitting up along the wall; it was a more comfortable position, and you felt the tiny aches in your body lessen as the pressure released. He brings a thumb up to your cheek, wiping at the blood and sweat to try to clean the cut on your face as he speaks.

“Amazing, but you overdid it-- you’re sweating way too much. Just rest here, you’re going to be okay. I’ll protect you.” 

The determination and fire in his eyes make your heart flutter--his grin a beacon of hope. You trust him, one hundred percent. You smile sweetly back, hoping he understood just how much you believe in him.

“Yeah, be careful, Izuku.” 

He shakily stands, leaning on the wall above you for support as he determines the damage done to his body. Your eyes filter down, and you see how purple and swollen his leg is--his quirk must have broken it. 

He doesn’t let that stop him, his body glowing as his power surges through him, and he pushes off towards Stain. Simultaneously, Iida attacks him on the opposite end, both able to land devastating blows to knock him back. Todoroki countered, sending a large flame to the killer while Iida had given one last solid kick--effectively knocking him out. 

Shoto’s ice imprisoned Stain while also bringing both boys towards his direction, and he yells out for them to stand and fight, before he notices the hero killer is unresponsive. 

Your finger twitches, catching your attention as you feel your body slowly regaining feeling. The feeling was weird, like white static filtering through your body; like what happens after you’ve been sitting one way too long and your limb falls asleep, once you move it that tingling sensation is overwhelming. 

Trying to stand was a pain, you let out a huff of breath in annoyance as your legs wobbled. Once you were upright and stable, you shakily made your way over to the three boys. 

“He’s got to be knocked out after all that, right?”

“Then let’s restrain him and get him to the street.”

“Maybe we can find some rope nearby?” You question, only for their heads to snap over to you.

“You’re up and moving, good.” Todoroki sighs, shoulders relaxing as everyone seems to be safe.

“y/n!,” Izuku grins, “good thinking, hopefully there will be something to tie him up with. We should probably take his weapons too.”

“Good idea.”

You force Izuku to sit down next to Iida despite his complaints, and you go to try to find some rope. Iida quickly stands, undeterred by your words as you insist he should rest and goes with you to the trash bins to help look.

“I need to help out, in any way I can.” His voice was thick with emotion like before, but this time it was less angsty, and more sorrowful. You allow him, knowing that he must be beating himself up on the inside. 

“Hey Iida?”

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry.”

He stares at you bewildered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hakamata-”

“I should’ve been a better friend… So I’m sorry.” You speak softly.

Iida bit his lip as his gaze lowered.

“I should be sorry; if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

You nudge his shoulder with your own, careful to not agitate either his nor your own wounds.

“What are friends for?”

The shared smile was enough for the both of you, and you quickly went to work searching for rope. You pulled out a long piece from the dumpster, and laughed in triumph. Shoto had gotten Stain down from his ice wall, and brought him over towards the both of you as he finished removing all of his weapons. Handing the rope off to Shoto, he quickly got to work on tying him up. You see the Pro Hero now moving around, lifting up Deku by giving him a piggyback ride. You smile, grateful Izuku wouldn’t have to put too much pressure on his broken ankle. 

“We’re lucky someone threw this in the dumpster.”

“What are the odds, huh?” You chuckle.

“Todoroki, I can drag him from here!” Iida shouts.

“Are you forgetting your arms are messed up?”

“Yeah, it’s okay Iida. Just rest please.”

With a sigh, he reluctantly agrees, and you all make your way out of the alley towards the street and stand on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” a shout makes you all jump, looking across the street, “what are you doing here, boy?”

“Gran Torino!”

Looking back and forth between Deku and the man, you end up gasping as he flies over, kicking Izuku straight in the face.

“Who’s this?” Shoto asks, unfazed.

“Gran Torino, the hero I’m interning with…” he trails off, looking back at the hero, “I don’t get it, how did you find us?”

“I was told to come here, I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m glad you’re not dead, at least.”

More voices filter in, a group of pros rounding the corner all at once. One hero spoke up, uncertainty laced within his words.

“Endeavor told us to come here, but… children?”

The heroes begin to fret over your appearances, until one gasps out.

“Hey, isn’t that… the Hero Killer?”

“What?”

“I’ll get the police on the line!”

Standing with Shoto and Izuku, once Native had carefully set him back down, you look back as Iida calls out.

“You guys, you were all hurt because of me,” He bows, not allowing you guys to see the tears in his eyes, “I’m truly sorry… I was just so angry, I couldn’t see anything else…”

“Iida… I already said you didn’t need to apologize,” you sigh, biting your lip in sorrow, “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize how much pain you were going through.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too, Iida. You were going through so much by yourself, and I couldn’t tell… Even though I’m your friend.” Izuku declares, just as emotional. 

The tears start to fall down Iida’s face more rapidly, body shaking in silent sobs.

“Hey, pull yourself together. You’re the class rep.”

“Right…” He agrees with Shoto, rubbing his eyes with the minimal movement he had in his arms. 

You let out a sigh of relief, your body cooling down naturally, slowly but surely. You weren’t steaming anymore, the sweat on your body already having been evaporated or dried. However, you were still scarily warm, feeling the effects of being dehydrated and overheated. All you had to do was wait for the ambulance to arrive, and then you could drink as much cold, mouthwatering liquid as you wanted. 

The sense of peace that was returning to you immediately faded as Gran Torino shouted to get down. Your heart fell as you stared up a winged creature; one that looked like Nomu back at the USJ. It was huge--large wings protruding from his back as he swooped down towards the group. You see it heading straight towards you, and you try to grab onto Izuku to drag him to the ground with you, but it was all in vain. A large talon-like foot grabbed you, and because of the way you were angled when you were trying to duck the monster ended up grabbing your neck before hauling back towards the sky. 

You choked, hands reaching up to try to pry the talons away from your throat, but it wouldn’t budge. White hot fear pounded at you as your windpipe was blocked, unable to breath or move in his hold. The scream came out garbled and distorted, and you encased your hands in light as hot as you could go. It didn’t affect him, even as the smell of burnt skin made you want to gag, it acted as if it was unbothered. Tears built in your eyes, lack of oxygen--along with the rest of your injuries--catching up as you stop thrashing about, your vision fading slowly. 

Just then, the creature stopped midair, the grip around your throat letting up, letting you take in a shuddering breath before coughing.

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society; this world is overrun by fakes and criminals like you who chase petty dreams!” 

You look up in surprise to see Stain above you, bringing down a knife as he plunges it straight into the creature's head. Falling towards the ground at a faster rate, you feel his arm snake around your waste, pulling you tight against his chest as he takes the brunt of the fall. 

“You must all be purged.”

You’re astonished, unable to understand what exactly had happened once the rough landing came to a stop. You’re now on the ground, Stain setting you down on the sidewalk before sitting up, crouching before you and the now dead creature. You let out a whimper of fear, the crazed look on his face scaring you more than the actual Nomu creature had done. 

“Everything that I do, is to create a stronger society.”

The heroes behind you spoke about getting ready, how they needed to be careful now that he had a hostage, and the fact that you were that hostage hit you like a truck. Sweat from nerves rolled down your face, heart beating fast as Stain kept you down on the ground with the same arm he used to save you. You struggled, and in turn it only made him put more pressure, making it impossible for you to get away. You thrash around, holding in tears. This wasn’t the time to cry, you needed to find a way to escape--

Endeavor’s voice echoed in the air, and a switch flipped in Stain’s mind. He let you go, standing to face the number 2 Pro. 

“Endeavor.. You false hero, I’ll make this right! These streets must run with the blood of hypocrites! Hero: I will reclaim that word. Come one, just try and stop me you fakes! There is only one man I'll let kill me, he's a true hero; ALLMIGHT IS WORTHY.”

The look in his eyes, and the aura he radiated, had everyone frozen in fear. He walked slowly over towards the pro, who looked more taken aback than scared, until he stopped in his tracks. The knife fell from his hands and his breathing slowed; did he pass out? What is going on?

You couldn’t stay awake to find out, as your adrenaline faded, so did your vision, and finally you gave in; collapsing back letting your eyes flutter close as you passed out on the cold ground. 

-----

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[foxsimthings]

Kekoa Mahi’ai for @freakishnature​ ‘s November Charna

Goofball | Glutton | Animal Enthusiast Twenty-eight | Former Wrestler | Current ??? | He/him

v v v

When they chose his name, they knew their son would be strong. How strong, perhaps, remained to be seen.

Kekoa was making history since the night he was born. Nurses crowded around the bedside of his poor mother, chattering and murmuring to one another as the doctor declared the birth of a fifteen pound baby boy - a record-breaker. His three older sisters were all of average size but Kekoa came in nearly double their size. And as Anela and Lokela took in the sight of their only son, he could only be named one thing - the warrior.

Given such a remarkable start, it became less and less surprising that the boy ought to have a remarkable life. Kekoa was something of a Sulani celebrity, if only at first by virtue of his birth bringing all manner of photographer and record-holder to town. And he was hard to miss, a boy larger than his peers all his life. But he also grew to be warm and kind, tending only to anger when brought to the defense of others. Despite being the youngest, Kekoa - affectionately called Koa by most - grew up his sisters’ biggest fan and greatest protector. For all his kindness, none dared for a moment to learn what wrath might fall on their heads should a hair on his family’s heads be harmed. 

By the time he left high school, Koa stood at 7′ tall and nearly 300 pounds. He’d been active on the football and wrestling teams, a moderate student, and graduated with the honour of being recognized for having the whitest teeth in class. 

After school, Koa got up to all manner of madness. He worked as a stunt man, acted in a few movies and commercials, carried on wrestling under the name Tsunami, helped to start and run a local marine wildlife rescue and rehabilitation center, did some men’s mental health work in the prison system. It would seem to most that the man was unstoppable, fueled by boyish laughter and more food than a small village could get through in a week. Kekoa never seemed to worry about much - he always appeared to have just enough of a thing to spare. Just enough money to be comfortable, just enough time to relax, just enough food to bring a plate or two to the vulnerable in his community. 

While life couldn’t be called perfect, for a long while it didn’t seem as though anything could put a damper on his mood for long. 

It was a stupid mistake. It always is. An afterthought, one last little thing that proves to be one’s downfall. Koa knew better, of course, than to swim at dusk. Everyone did. In the end, he wouldn’t even remember why he went out that evening - maybe it was to impress a girl, or fetch something off his skiff without hauling the rowboat out. Maybe he just got caught in a moment of ‘well, it hasn’t happened yet, why should it happen now?’

Bull shark + mysterious dark figure swimming overhead = bad news.

Losing his leg meant a lot of things came to an end, whether they needed to or not. Koa was still in physical therapy when he decided he wouldn’t wrestle any more, no more stunts, no more acting. It felt for a long while as though there might not be anything left for him, and as he sat in his wheelchair glaring at the sea, it got so difficult not to hate the shark, the ocean -- the world. 

But nothing lasts forever. In time, all things become routine. The prosthetic would never feel like skin but it looked close enough that people stopped asking questions. And before long he could walk without all that much of a limp, and he could run again, swim again. Before long, Koa couldn’t remember what having his leg felt like in the first place. 

So now he’s back, albeit a bit directionless. Having given up most of the things he occupied himself with in the past, Kekoa Mahi’ai has set out to see where life might take him next. A shot at love seems as good a destination as any.

Personality:

• Koa is a great lover of a great many things. He adores animals of all kinds and has sustained many injuries at the hands - claws, and teeth - of animals. He’s also terribly protective of his family and has scared most of the men in Sulani away from dating the sister closest in age to him for fear of being folded in half.  • Adventure abound! Kekoa will say yes to almost anything once, which tends to send him on all manner of adventure. That isn’t to say he’s in Strangeville every weekend giving piggyback rides to ETs, but he can easily leave in the morning with nothing in his pockets and come home with a table he learned to make from someone on the beach. • Understandably, the man eats a ton. Not only is he naturally a bulky boy, he’s also pretty active and maintains a... beefy stature. But Koa also loves to cook and delights in sharing Sulani dishes as often as possible.  • He’s the king of loud-print shirts and dad jokes, and Koa never has a problem laughing at his own jokes. Someone has to, after all. • Being exceptionally kind > being exceptionally reasonable • Kekoa is the definition of the guy stereotype who, when asked what he’s thinking about, can reply ‘nothing’ and genuinely mean it. He’s just a generally happy, peaceful dude and doesn’t tend to sweat the small stuff. Or most stuff. • Shy? Not even a little bit. Kekoa is very outgoing and confident, an extrovert to the max - but he’s gentle with his introvert friends and, growing up with a few, knows when to pull them out of their shell and when to wrap up in a blanket next to them and watch Ace Ventura for the 50th time. • Despite not being perhaps the most clever man in the world, Koa is a thoughtful guy, tuned in to others and keenly receptive to the vibes they’re putting out. #goodvibesbutonlywhenyou’refeelinit

Fun Facts:

• Kekoa almost always wears flipflops and shorts. He’ll wear pants to be formal but he’s most comfy in shorts. • He’s one of those people that never upgrade their phone. He’s had the same flip phone since he was twenty and tends to text a bit like a spider falling down the stairs, but his hands are too big for most phones to text comfortably. • Internet lingo is completely lost on him, and he types with one finger. The man is not very web savvy and his work laptop is so riddled with viruses it barely runs any more.  • Koa was June in the Men of Wrestling calendar five years ago and has appeared in a few magazines one might find under their mom’s mattress. • Kekoa’s original wrestling name was Sulani Tsunami, but a porn star with the same name sent him a cease and desist.  • He loves to have his head or back scratched and will almost definitely fall asleep. Speaking of sleep, the man can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere - and will, if he’s even slightly dozy, tip his head back for a quick cat nap. • The man loves to dance and, when traveling, enjoys visiting local clubs to tear it up.

🎵 

[delcat177]

"Touch grass" is the most cutting response of our time because it is entirely good advice and it keeps my lazy stoner ass touching the Other Weeds

[callmecallmecrazy]

Keeping Up with Old Friends

*****

Well, it’s another odd one.  Somewhere between preppy and stodgy, old-fashioned man I guess?  This is actually brand spanking new!  If it hadn’t been for Covid, this would have been the fastest story I’d ever written!

*****

“Josh?  Is that you?”  Henley saw his old college pal, the wannabe hipster with a scruffy beard and flannel button downs ordering coffee at a Starbucks.  Except, scruffy Josh was smooth shaved with a gentle part in his hair and dressed in a tight fitting lime green polo, creased khakis, and polished loafers.  And the Josh he knew would never order from Starbucks or any corporate chain for that matter.  But the tiny polo logo on his chest suggested that had definitely changed.

“Henley!  Hey man,” his voice was still the same chipper and little high pitched.  Henley met his friend in a hug, noticing that his formerly thin arms had a plethora of veins bulging up over visible muscles.  For someone who claimed to hate pretension, he sure had gone full tilt.

“Surprised to see you here,” Henley half-joked while teasingly pressing on the polo player on Josh’s shirt.

“Ha!  Yeah man, turns out they have some good stuff!  Plus, it’s close to work.”

“Where are you working now?”

“Hemplebaum Inc.” The big smile he offered was met by a wide eyed stare from Henley.  Josh was a film and lighting guy.  Last they’d talked, he’d been working on some plays downtown.  Certainly not at “evil corporation incorporated”.

“What happened to the plays?”

“Ya know, I wanted a change.” Josh shoved his hands into his pockets.  “Plus, the money sucks.  I didn’t want to share a studio my whole life.” “Aren’t they, like, totally evil?” Josh frowned, his face taking on an overly broad and exaggerated look.  Had his head grown?

“Hey man, they’re cool.  I got headhunted by a department chief.  I’m not one of those office drones filling foreclosures and manipulating bank accounts.”  In response to Henley’s increasingly horrified look, Josh shrugged and laughed.   “I don’t think they do that stuff anymore either.”  

He glanced at his watch, a shiny rolex, and then back at Henley.  “Hey man, great seeing you.  Maybe we’ll hang out sometime?  I gotta get back to the office!”  Henley watched Josh walk out, noticing how well he filled out those khakis.  His buttocks had developed a shelf like quality, curving the pants out awkwardly as he walked away.  

“That was so strange,” Henley said aloud.  But people change.  Josh seemed happy and healthy.  Maybe he always wanted to be a frat boy after all?  Henley got his coffee, black, and took the train downtown.  As he sipped on the scalding coffee, Henley did think about some of what Josh said.  Downtown was prohibitively expensive.  Henley paid in time what he couldn't afford in rent having to ride in everyday.  Sure, he loved life down here but he really couldn’t enjoy it as much as he’d like.  But then, Henley could never handle being some corporate drone.

-----

“Josh?  Is that you?” The big man standing in front of the drink counter, picking up a gigantic fuzzy looking drink, didn’t physically resemble Josh at all.  He was big, the Navy blazer he wore couldn’t hide the broad shoulders and his green and blue rep tie had a hard time lying flat over his bulging pecs.  And his hair, last time well groomed but still with a youthful length, was sheared down into a practically flat bit of black hair, shiny and parted.  The face was still the same, even though the hair made his face look extremely square.

The man looked back at Henley confused for a moment before a tinge of understanding glittered in his eyes.

“Henley Tator,” his voice was slower and deeper.  While Henley went in for a hug, Josh replied with a one armed side hug and pat on the back.  He practically grimaced when Henley went full hug.

“Josh!  Man, it’s been awhile.” “Yes Henley, I’ve been very busy at work.  And please, call me Joshua, it’s more professional.”

“Wow, still at Hemplebaum?”

“Yes, moving up the ladder.  What about you, Henley?”

“Oh ya know, I’m still at the art funding startup.  It’s hard but I enjoy it.”

“Pay well?” “Ha, you know it doesn’t.” “I can tell,” Joshua eyed Henley’s tattered jeans and waffle shirt with distaste.  Henley was taken aback by the outright disdain.

“Well, I’m passionate about it.” Joshua just nodded.  “You’re looking good. Gym time is really paying off.” “Yes,” Joshua’s stern demeanor dropped a touch, there a bit more levity in his voice suddenly.  “There’s a corporate gym and it’s free and they even give you an hour a day to use it - paid!”  He was practically giddy as he talked.  Henley relaxed a bit.  This was the Josh he knew, chirpy and friendly though not exceptionally outgoing.  And honestly, Josh had always been the kind of guy who dove head first into anything.  It really wasn’t shocking that he’d treat his job the same way he’d treated edibles, EDM, and frisbee golf.

“You still doing frisbee golf?  Since you’ve got the bod now,” Henley playfully slapped one of Joshua’s broad shoulders and was shocked at how firm the muscle was.

“I’ve been doing a lot of golf!  I play with several of my coworkers and even some of the junior partners.  I’m getting my handicap down too.”

“Oh, you’re playing real golf?”

“Yes, it’s very enjoyable.  And great for business bonding.  Chance for men to talk about work, wives, sports.  Say, you watch the game last weekend?”  That was wholly unlike Josh.  But again, he was probably throwing himself into the corporate world.

“Nah, man, I’m not into basketball.”

“It’s football season.” He replied so directly and sincerely Henley almost fell over.  “I know not everyone is into the NFL, but I assumed you would at least watch your alma mater.  And our Bulls are having a great season.  4-0 in conference play.”  Joshua kept talking about football as Henley stared deep into his eyes.  Was this really Josh?  The guy hadn’t even known what sport a touchdown was part of.

“Anyway, Henley, it’s been great catching up.  Maybe we can grab some beers and watch a game sometime.  I need to return to the office.”  Joshua checked his watch, flashing the shiny gold in front of Henley.  As the muscleman walked out, Henley couldn’t help but notice the incredibly large derriere.  The vents on his suit jacket hung awkwardly over the luscious rump and it jiggled every so slight as he walked.  A stunning contrast to the hard muscle covering the rest of his body.

“Yeah, great to see you Josh-ua,” he forced out the last syllable.  It made sense to do it.  This was not the Josh he knew.  This was apparently Joshua, his friend?  Henley grabbed his coffee, black, and tried to sip on it on the train.  It was a little too hot for him and he was stuck holding it between his hands awkwardly for the whole ride.

-----

“Josh?  Is that you?  I mean, Joshua?”  Henley had avoided the coffee shop since their last encounter.  He told himself it was all in his head, but everything about these encounters creeped him out.  Joshua seemed like a totally different person.  He wasn’t sure if it was steroids, the growth seemed extremely quick, or perhaps just the makeover itself made him look different.  But he was finally caffeine deprived enough to step in, and there was Joshua.  Or at least a Joshua facsimile standing next to another man.

This Joshua wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly straining at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch.  It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button down shirt and blue and green rep tie.  His hair was the same, but his face had undergone a change.  His jaw, formerly a little pointed and sharp, spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape.  He stood ramrod straight, sipping from his milky looking drink.  The man next to Joshua was older, but otherwise nearly identical.  He was thicker around the middle, but any gut he might have was hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage.  His tie was black and grey with a subtle windowpane pattern.

The man stared at Henley for a moment before tapping Joshua on the shoulder.

“John Howard,” his voice was slow and deep.  “I believe this boy is trying to get your attention.”  The younger man turned to look at Henley and then a faint bit of recognition crossed his face.

“Henley Tator,” the voice was practically monotone, low and deep.  He took a few powerful steps forward and offered a large, rough hand.  Confused, Henley accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones.

“Mr. Amplebottom,” Joshua turned to face the older man.  “This is a friend from college.  Henley Tator.  Henley, this is my boss.”  He gestured robotically between the two.  Amplebottom offered his hand and it was the same rough shake.

“Nice to meet you….,” Henley sort of trailed off, hoping to get a first name.

“And to you, Henley,” he put a very strange emphasis on the words, as though he had never said them before.  Henley turned back to his old friend.

“So, Joshua,...” he was cut off by a cough from Amplebottom.

“Please call me John Howard,” Joshua said curtly.  “Mr. Amplebottom thinks I would be better suited professionally as John Howard.”  The way he spoke, extremely even in both rhythm and pitch, was unnerving.  Henley could make out some of Josh’s features in the hulking face before him.  An upturned nose and naturally thin eyebrows over wide eyes resembled the Josh he knew.  But the rest of the face clearly belonged to this corporate meathead named John Howard.

“Okay, John-”

“John Howard.”

“John Howard.  So, how is work?”

“I am very happy at Hemplebaum.  I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions under Mr. Amplebottom.  He has been a great advisor in my career.”

“That’s great.  Glad to hear you’re doing good!”

“Yes, Mr. Amplebottom has assigned me to a downtown acquisition project.”

“Acquisition?”

“Correct, we have a potential development on 520 Porter and need to remove the building.”

“Huh, okay.  So what building are you removing?”

“Currently the future site of Hemple Housing Porter is occupied by the Cherub Theatre.” “Cherub Theatre?  You used to work there?  You wanna tear it down?”

“It is an eyesore.  And it occupies a lot with high economic potential.  It is better suited for development.”

“Josh-,”

“John Howard.”

“What the hell happened to you?”  The wide eyes suddenly narrowed sharply and almost seemed to sink back into his skull a little.

“I’m offended by your tone, Henley.  And honestly,” he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves while disgustingly eyeing Henley’s dirty clothes up and down. “I grew up.  You could do with some growing.”

“You’ve grown into a soulless jerk.  We used to mock those fucking money obsessed frat boys back in college.” “I just bought a house out in Chester.  Right next door to Chadwick Statton.  You remember Chadwick?” “Oh my god, he was that Kappa Kappa Kappa asshole.”

“The KKK joke is stale.  Besides, it’s very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood.  I was fortunate to golf with him and he gave me an in with the Board.  Plus, I’m working on my country club application.  The application fee is $50,000.  Could you afford that?” “Jesus Christ! Fifty k just to fucking apply?  You’re insane.”

“And you, Henley, are a child.  But if you ever decide to grow up,” he reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a thick black card and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his plaid shirt.

“John Howard,” Mr. Amplebottom suddenly interrupted the discussion.  John Howard stiffened up and faced his boss.  “I’m glad you had this chance to catch up with your fraternity brother, but we have wasted time.  I assume you’ll stay late to make it up?” “Of course, Mr. Amplebottom.” They turned to leave.  Henley got a good look at the pair.  Despite the broad shoulders and bulging pectorals, both had a distinctly pear shaped body, with wide hips and massive butts that shook just a touch as they walked.  Henley laughed to himself, realizing Amplebottom really lived up to his name.

Henley grabbed the card from his pocket and examined it.  It was a thick card stock and slightly textured.  The Hemplebaum logo was obnoxiously large in one corner.  Right in the middle was John Howard Johnson, Associate.  Henley was quite sure he was going mad.  That was absolutely not his last name in college!  Had he changed his entire fucking name to fit in with these people?  Golfing with Chad, obeying his boss like some braindead goon, destroying his old workplace to build, what? Multi-use condos?  Like there isn’t enough of that?  The Cherub is a relic, in a good way.  Had Josh been putting on the entire time he was in college?  Was this who he truly was?  No, no this name changing was a deeper sign.  Maybe a psychotic break?

It occurred to him that standing in a Starbucks staring at a business card as people queued up around him made him look insane.   And he had to get to work anyway.  This whole thing had become so ridiculous he’d just ignore it.  He ordered his coffee, adding a heavy dose of cream, and went downtown.

-----

“John Howard?  Is that you?”

“You’ve reached Hemblebaum Inc acquisitions division.  How may I direct your call?” Damn, his card didn’t even list a direct number.  Henley had tossed the card around his apartment for a while, even starting to dial once or twice.  But then he’d ask himself why exactly he was doing this.  John Howard, whoever he was, wasn’t Henley’s old friend.  He wouldn’t have even spoken to Henley back in the day.  But theoretically this man was Josh or had been Josh.  And Henley couldn’t shake him from his mind.

“May I speak with John Howard Johnson?” Henley’s voice cracked a touch as he spurt out the words.

“I’ll transfer you to his desk,” replied the chipper female voice.  The line filled with static and then began ringing.  After a few rings, he was bumped back to the secretary.

“Would you like me to give Mr. Johnson a message on your behalf?” “Oh, uh, no thank you.”

“If this is a private matter, I can forward you to his personal mailbox.”

“Sure.”

“One moment.”  There wasn’t any ring, just straight to the mailbox.  He could practically see the stodgy man who produced the recording.

“You have reached the desk of John Howard Johnson.  Leave a message and I will respond.”  Damn, he was so terse and humorless.  And what exactly was he going to say?  The words came out of his mouth before he could think about them.

“Hey, John Howard.  This is Henley Tator, from college.  I was thinking about what you said when you gave me your card.  So, call me back?” He left his number and hung up.  What on earth had he been thinking?  I mean, the growing up thing had crossed his mind.  His two bedroom apartment was rough to afford even with two roommates.  It would be nice to have his own place.  And his clothes could use an update from his student days.  Of course, he wondered exactly how long he’d be waiting for a call back, which gave him far too much time to ponder his plans.

------

“This is Henley,” he wouldn’t normally answer the phone for an unknown number, but since he had no idea when John Howard would call, or from what number, Henley snagged the phone every time it rang.  Sure, he’d fielded a few calls from telemarketers, but he was going to get to the bottom of this.  Hardy Boy or something or other.

“Hello Henley, this is John Howard Johnson, I am returning your call from 2:15.” Damn, he was a total stiff.  He was probably sitting at his desk, feet flat on the floor, back ramrod straight staring straight ahead.

“Hey John Howard, how’s it going?”

“I am well, Henley, how may I assist you?” Straight to the point.

“Well, you know I was thinking about what you said at Starbucks.  About growing up and stuff.”

“Yes, you are quite childish.” “Can you help?”

“Of course, I think an interview with Mr. Amplebottom would be a delightful way to have a new start.  I shall arrange an 8:00 a.m. appointment tomorrow.  He’ll be expecting you.  Check in at the lobby by 7:45.  Oh, and please find more suitable attire.  This is a professional work environment.” “Great, well, that’s a lot more than I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Umm, no idea.”

“You asked for help, I am providing it.  Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no.  Thank you so much!  I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll see Mr. Amplebottom.”

“Yes, yes, of course.  Thank you, John Howard.”

“You are welcome, Henley.” Click. Well, that was brisk.  But a development.  Now of course, he’d need to find clothes.  I mean, he had a suit, just the one, in navy blue, and it got pulled out once a year or so for weddings.  A dab of cologne would top it off.  He didn’t want to be suspicious.  Of course, as far as he could tell, the only person who thought something was amiss was him.

-----

“This is Henley,” he replied to the officer checking name at the front desk.  He was a private security guard, bulky and bull necked with biceps that practically shredded his sleeves.  The stern faced man checked a list carefully.

“First name?”

“Henley.”  The officer stared at him.

“Henley Henley?”

“No, Henley Tator.” He could sense the guard sighing internally.  Henley was such an odd name, it usually was more than enough information for people to locate him.  But, judging by John Howard, this was probably an extremely by-the-books business.

“39th floor.  Please give your name to the secretary and she’ll let you in.  Tator, Henley.  Less confusion.” The man curtly directed him towards the elevator and returned to his post by the door.

Everything about the lobby, the elevator and the entry way on floor 39 was the same: wood, dark, overbearing.   Harsh fluorescent lighting easily guided the path.  The whole place was like a time capsule, the height of early 60s style.  This might as well have been a set for the early seasons of Mad Men.

The sharp ping of the elevator signalled his arrival and after a quick check-in, he was led across a sea of cubicles towards a large office in the corner. Despite the early time, the office was already alive.  He caught glimpses of suited men at some desks and a trio of buff suits standing by a water cooler.

Amplebottom’s office continued the trend.  It was big with large windows along the wall.  He had a gigantic wooden desk with an equally large chair that seemed twice as wide as normal.  Which made sense given his butt.  He glanced up as Henley entered but did not stand.

“Henley Tator,” the way he said his name was so peculiar.  He spoke so slowly that emphasis ended up on the wrong syllables, making the words sound foreign to Henley himself.

“Mr. Amplebottom,” Henley walked over in front of the desk and offered his hand.  Amblebottom leaned forward and shook it.  He’d prepared himself for the vice grip and felt the muscles in his forearm swell as he clenched back.  Once that was over, Henley pulled back a chair and began to sit.

“Before you sit down,” his thick words poured molasses over Henley’s movements. He found himself standing upright and looking at Amplebottom.  The man was a practically a hypermasculine parody, low brow, big nose, wide jaw with a gigantic cleft chin.  A touch of receding hair over the temples added more dignity than age.  His clothing was similar to the other day, pale black suit and subtle tie.

“John Howard setup this interview.  I am unsure how you can contribute to Hemplebaum.”  Henley stood uncomfortably as Amplebottom stared at him.  He took a dry swallow and stared into the big man’s eyes.  They were a strange grey color, cold and severe and almost lifeless.  He also found it hard to look away, they were enrapturing.  “What do you expect from me?”  Henley was almost sure he saw the grey eyes flash.

“I guess, umm, I was just hoping for a job?”

“That sounds very convincing, son,” the droll response unnerved Henley more.

“I want to try something new.  More grown-up.” 

“Hemplebaum isn’t some urban start up with billiards and soy milk.  This is a very demanding corporation.  I expect my employees to be eager and dedicated.”

“Yes, Mr. Amplebottom,” Henley found himself nodding in response.  He spread his legs a little wider and clasped his hands behind his back.  It was more comfortable than just letting them hang and it prevented fidgeting.

“This job can also be very rewarding.  Acquisitions works on a baseline salary plus commission incentives and bonuses.”

“How much could I make?” Henley honesty hadn’t thought about the actual financial potential of the job.  Sure, he’d casually looked up the cost of homes in Chester, but he hadn’t really considered the salary.

“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects.  Do well, and you can quickly move up.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“I am always serious Henley.”

“No, sorry, Sir,” he tacked on the honorific quickly.  The financial prospects were huge!  “That’s more than twice what I make now.”

“Yes, the corporate world has perks.”

“I’d like a job as a Junior Associate, Mr. Amplebottom.”  That caused the bigger man to smile.

“Are you willing to dedicate yourself to your job, Henley?  We do not tolerate slackers.”

“Yessir!”

“Well, I think, based on John Howard’s recommendation, that I can give you a test run.”

“Thank you, Mr. Amplebottom.”

“However, there will be a few adjustments required.  Your suit is fine, the sneakers are not.  And ties are mandatory with a collared shirt.  Human resources will give you a rundown of our policies.  I’m assuming you probably won’t have work appropriate clothing.  The company can offer you a corporate card to get yourself setup.  You’ll receive automatic payroll deductions to pay it back.”

“Thank you, Mr. Amplebottom.”

“I appreciate this new eagerness from you.  I assure you, if you work hard, you’ll find Hemplebaum the most rewarding place.”

-----

“This is Henley Tator,” he said confidently to the guard.  The officer, a gruff man with visible tattoos on his hulking forearms, gave him a once over and checked his name off a list.  He said nothing as Henley headed inside towards the elevator. The glass walls of the elevator gave him a great chance to reflect on the past twenty-four hours.

The employee handbook was massive.  Something like 200 pages of rules, regulations, and suggestions mixed in with corporate speak and industry jargon.  While HR had gone over some basics of the position, personnel forms, and whatnot, the only section he’d read closely was on wardrobe since Amblebottom specifically mentioned it.  It wasn’t terribly confusing since it included not just general recommendations but pictures, stores, and tiers of items towards “building a man’s wardrobe.”

Henley followed the basic directions and found the elegant, tiny menswear shop the manual recommended. Upon hearing that he had recently gained employment at Hemplebaum, the elder employee immediately went to work, selecting an array of khakis and polos to start.  Henley had resisted the creased pleats but to his dismay the shopkeeper insisted.  He had successfully rebuffed the notion that he needed new underwear.  He was an adult, he could make private decisions on his own.  The man also said he’d begin working on a basic suit.  Henley referred to it as “black” and was politely informed that the color was “charcoal” and black suits were only for funerals.

Which is how he found himself, smooth faced from new toiletries, in a salmon polo and crisp khakis, waiting on the elevator.  He had a minor flashback to when he first ran into John Howard.  Joshua.  Josh.  Whoever he was now.  Their outfits were similar, but Henley took a moment as he brushed a lock of hair from his eyes to remind himself that he was just playing pretend.  He was figuring something out.  Capitalist finery was required.  Although his mind had already started calculating exactly when he could get his own apartment.

-----

“This is Henley Tator,” he answered as the office desk rang.  He’d quickly been put into a cubicle and signed into a company website to begin training.  Usual stuff, safety procedures, privacy policies and intellectual property, then lots and lots of company information, acquisition and retail training, even negotiating for beginners.  He had been expecting to find a diversity or harassment training, but the program, like seemingly everything else here, was highly structured and old-fashioned.  It was probably deeper in the training.  He’d swiped his new ID card when he got up for the bathroom or to get some water, the program seemed on a timer because if he dallied or got distracted the pages would time out and he’d have to start again.  On the plus side, it made the day pass extremely quickly.

“Henley Tator,” he recognized that stoic bass.  “This is John Howard Johnson.”

“Hey, John Howard, how’s it going?”

“I am well, Henley.  I will be going to the cafeteria for lunch in 15 minutes.  If you are hungry, you are welcome to come along.”

“Sure thing, John Howard!  Thanks! I am getting hun-.”

“Please meet by the elevator in ten minutes.” John Howard was not a chatter.  Never had been.  But it gave him something to look forward to so he rushed to finish a basic finances video quiz narrated by a corporate casting finance bro in a tasteful suit talking about “life at the club” and “the importance of appearances.”  Finally, he badged out of his computer for lunch.

By the elevators, in an impossibly rigid stance, legs apart, hands straight at his side, face forward, was John Howard.  The square faced muscle man was packed into a charcoal suit and shiny dress shoes.  Henley noticed the colorful tie had been replaced with a more muted one with barely noticeable muted black stripes.

“Henley Tator,” he offered his rough hand and Henley accepted.

“John Howard Johnson,” he said, half mocking but also happy to see a semi-familiar face.

“The cafeteria is on Floor 15,” John Howard said briskly as they stepped in.

“So, having a good day?”

“My day is doing well, thank you.  How is your day?”

“Good, lots of new information.  Guess I need a lot of training.”

“The gym is on the fifth floor.  It is a good source of weight training.”

“Oh awesome!  Yeah, man you look great.  I definitely should hit that up.”

“I am happy to show you.  I workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards.”

“Holy crap dude!  And you live out in Chester?  How do you find time to sleep.”

“A good night’s sleep is important for muscle growth.  I try not to waste time on silly things.”

Henley had built a small salad for himself and grabbed some water.  John Howard had taken the platter, a slab of meat in gravy, potatoes, and greens.  Combined with what appeared to be a frothy glass of milk.  He sat the two down at a table with two other men.  One was a stoic, stern faced man who looked like he could be John Howard’s brother.  The other was a much flashier man with smooth blonde hair and a plaid bowtie.

“Henley, this is Bert Anderson, accounting,” he gestured to his clone.  “And this is-” he was cut off by the flashier man.

“Rotterham Casper Cornelius Southard, call me Rip.  Accounts.  So, J.H. mentioned you were his old college bro?  Bet you got up to some mischief back in the day, eh?” he gave John Howard a playful punch, and he did not react.

“I prefer John Howard.”

“I know you do, J.H.”

“So, you’re both in accounting?” Henley asked.  Bert shook his head while Rip laughed.

“No, Bert here is a number cruncher.  I manage accounts.  Management, keeping clients happy.  Happy-hours, bars, strippers, the works.  I’m the fun one.” “I’m sure your wife does not approve.”

“She approves of that pool boy I hired for her.  She approves of our second home in Mayfield Valley.  She can approve of my dalliances.”  Henley mostly stayed silent as they talked about work, wives, and sports.

-----

“Take a seat, Henley,” Mr. Amplebottom gestured to one of the extra wide chairs before his desk.  Henley hardly took up half, but he wondered if they were wide enough for Amblebottom’s ample bottom.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” Henley hadn’t seen much of his boss the past week, but he’d found himself thinking more and more fondly of his boss.  The training videos included a lot of stuff on professional behavior, and while a lot of it seemed like a pathetically antiquated throwback to worse times, it wouldn’t hurt to adopt some of the culture.  At least while he was here.

“Just doing a check-in, seeing how it’s going.”  Amplebottom made constant eye contact.  Those grey eyes were engaging, sort of hard to look away from.

“It’s good, Mr. Amplebottom.”

“Enjoying the training?”

“It’s very informative.”

“Glad to hear it.  I take my employees personal development very personally.  I want you to think of me as a mentor.”

“Yes sir.”

“So, let me give you some advice.”

“Yes sir.”

“I appreciate the fraternity makeover.  Really, it’s a classic look.  But it doesn’t say corporate.  It doesn’t say rising star.  It doesn’t say money.  Does that make sense?”

“Umm, I guess so.” “Page 183 in the handbook.  Suggestions for the transition between fraternal life and entering the corporate world.”

“I wasn’t in a fraternity,” Henley laughed.

“I was under the impression that was how you know John Howard.  That you were one of his Kappa Alpha Sigma brothers?” “I, umm, no.  And I don’t think… John Howard was either?”

“You should work on speaking directly.  These umms and pauses don’t project confidence.”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright, you’re dismissed.”

“Thank you sir.”

One his way out, Henley took a moment to swing by John Howard’s desk.  Partially just to wish his fellow worker a good weekend, but also because that fraternity question bobbed around his head.

“John Howard?”  The stalwart man seated perfectly straight rotated his chair to face Henley.  Henley noticed that he sat on an extra wide chair and seemed to fill it well.  All those hours in the gym seemed to harden every muscle on his body except his butt.

“Henley Tator, do you need something?”

“Just wanted to say have a good weekend.” “Enjoy your weekend as well Henley.  If you’re feeling comfortable, I can show you the company gym Monday.  I workout at 7 am and 7 pm everyday.”

“Yeah, that would be great- wow you’re here a long time!”

“I take a lot of pride in my position at Hemplebaum.  I hope to become a division partner.  Legacy membership at Rolling Acres is five hundred grand.  And that’s my place.”  Henley pondered the man before him.  Honestly, there was a lot to like about John Howard.  He was honest, straightforward, and hardworking.  But there was something callous, cold, and privileged about him.  

“Hey, John Howard.  Were you in a fraternity?”

“Kappa Alpha Sigma, you know that Henley.” Did he know?  He looked like a K-Sig, the kind of former athlete who came to party hard and maybe pass a class or two.  

“Anyway, enjoy your weekend.  I need to finish up. Good night.” John Howard turned back towards his desk without another word, leaving Henley to shrug and walk to the tube and head home.

-----

Page 183 started with three pictures: a polo and khaki sporting college student, a man in trousers and blazer, and finally an old and noticeably thicker man in a conservative suit. Then it talked about the foundations of a man's future and his wardrobe.

“The navy blazer is a classic item that works for semi formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, the navy blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event.”

“Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit.  It is important to view the event and location when making a selection.  Bow ties in particular are more flamboyant in a workplace and should be considered carefully.  Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices.  Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”

“Supports should be practical and supportive.  Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut.  Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage.  A traditional undershirt with sleeves is ideal, as it provides sweat protection.  Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous.  It is also compatible with tennis for those who participate in sport.”

This had to have been the third comment someone had about his choice of underwear.  It seemed a deeply intrusive thing for a company to comment on.  But a lot of other sections are good information.  It explained why men like Bert and John Howard wore ties and Rip, in a more colorful position, had the flashier bowtie.  He took some basic notes and decided he’d hit up that menswear shop.  They had a company account, he could probably just tack it on to his previous bill.

-----

“Henley Tator,” he said simply.  The guard, the same one as every other day, checked the list and let him in.  Uncharacteristically, the guard spoke to him.

“Early start?”

“I’m supposed to meet a friend at the gym.”

“Ah, good choice.  I’ve been lifting since my football days,” the guard said while flexing a bicep.  It strained the fabric of his shirt so much there was a tiny tear at the sleeve.

“Ah damn, gonna have to size up.  Sorry, please don’t report me.”  He suddenly seemed mildly afraid.

“Report you?”

“Some of the guys here are real sticklers about manners.  They don’t like cursing.” “No, man, we’re cool.  You look great!  Not sure I’d want to be that big honestly.”

“Hey, once you start, you never wanna stop.”

Henley wanted to stop.  John Howard was already changed and waiting on him, so Henley rushed to change and hit the floor.  The next hour was a diabolic hell.  John Howard started with squats.  Henley got a good look at his friend's monstrous calves and steel cut quads, surprisingly pale but doubted John Howard wore short pants much.  The most shocking feature was watching that jiggly ass clench and thrust with each repetition.  Hard muscle lurked underneath the jelly-like layer.  And it went on and on.  Big lifts, slow lifts, legs, legs, legs, he was deeply certain he would never be able to walk again.  John Howard had to help him strip down and lumber into a shower stall.

He took his time rinsing off, rubbing the corporate provided products into his aching muscles and letting the hot water relax him.  Leaning against a wall, still gasping for breath, he let himself drift off for a bit.

“You alright, Henley?” John Howard asked, cracking the curtain.

“Just, just finishing up,” he said, turning off the water and grabbing his towel.  In the locker room, he saw John Howard's muscled glory in more detail, the ravenous cuts of his back rippled as he walked.  He was thick from below his pecs down to his butt, no real waistline, and most of that part of his back was covered in cotton fabric.  His legs were bare below the butt, the garganuan thighs popping through the pristine white cotton of the briefs.

While Henley got ready, John Howard went to a mirror and began applying white shaving cream to his practically smooth face, treating every exposed piece of chin and neck to the cream and razor.  Slipping back on his underwear, Henley donned a white undershirt and pulled up some pleated khakis.  Out of his locker came a white button down shirt which he began hastily buttoning.  John Howard was finishing his face with aftershave and examining himself in the mirror.  As he approached the lockers, Henley got a frontal look at him.  He hadn’t realized how high waisted these briefs were from the back.  His bellybutton was completely hidden, practically cartoonish.

Henley went to the mirror and began combing and styling his hair, working in product and brushing a part in.  His hair was getting trained for it, the strands beginning to grow a part on the right side naturally.  It looked pretty good like this.  More corporate that he had preferred, but it was a classic style for a reason.

As he returned to his locker, John Howard was pulling some trousers up his legs, hoisting them up with a pair of silk braces.  Everything about John Howard was just so big nowadays, his proportions practically Marvel comic level, that he hadn’t realized how high waisted his pants had become.  No one wore them like that nowadays.  At least no one who wasn’t LARPing or Mr. Amplebottom.  John Howard reminded Henley of Mr. Amplebottom, a lot.  The book said to copy your bosses outfits.  John Howard had taken that to heart.

Henley fashioned the gold and green tie around his neck before slipping into a navy blazer with prominent buttons.  John Howard walked towards the mirror again as he rolled up the cuffs of his shirt and adorned them with cufflinks.

“Nice man,” Henley admired.

“Thank you,” John Howard was almost bashful as he showed them to Henley.  He noted the onix black button had the letters J.H.J cut into them.

“Are they monogrammed?”

“Yes!  It’s very popular at the club.  And they were suggested by the haberdashery.” “Haberdashery?  Wow, that sounds so English.”

“These are made in America.  All the clothes recommended by Hemplebaum are.”  John Howard seemed agitated by the suggestion. “I just meant the word.”

“I don’t want people to think I’m un American.”  The stern response caused Henley to stay silent as the pair continued dressing.

-----

Henley was honestly looking forward to his weekly review meeting with Mr. Amplebottom.  He was starting to get in the swing of this whole corporate thing.  And the tantalizing prospect of his first paycheck was right around the corner.  That wasn’t the only corporate benefit he was enjoying.  His clothes were tight.  Quite tight.  At first he’d thought something was snagged, but the small strain on the buttons of his shirt was unmistakable.  As he pulled up his pants this morning, he’d heard a slight tear as a few seams in the rear snapped.  He’d have to get some things let out.  Or maybe new ones altogether.

The growth had bothered him a bit at first, it seemed to come out of nowhere.  But John Howard explained it was just the result of an effective workout and diet plan.  On John Howard’s suggestion, he’d dropped the salads and switched to the daily platter, a fuller meal for growth.  And the workouts meant he was exhausted everyday after work and went right to bed.  Which kind of went against his reason for working here in the first place.  Wait, why was he working here again?  To make money.  He wanted to enjoy more of life downtown.  Wasn’t it something about John Howard?

“Take a seat Henley.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Henley gratefully replied.  He plopped himself into the cushioned chair and did his best to keep his back tall and straight.  The men around here had impeccable posture, at least the ones in acquisitions.  Rip certainly knew how to relax.  Which gave him an idea for after the meeting.

“How has work been proceeding?”

“Very good, sir.  The trainings have been very helpful and I am eager to begin assisting with projects.”

“Good.  I am pleased with the energy you’ve devoted to your job.”

“Thank you Sir.”

“I’ve decided to assign you to the Hemple Housing Porter project under John Howard Johnson.” “I look forward to it.” “Very good.  We’ve acquired the property, but there is still concern about ‘historical value.’  You will be tasked with pricing and selling anything valuable inside.” “Yes sir… is that the Cherub theatre?”  Henley got a touch concerned.

“We refer to projects by our goals.  But the Theatre currently sits there.  Is that going to be a problem, Henley?” His grey eyes seemed to flash.

“No, Mr. Amplebottom.”

“Good.  You never struck me as the theatre type anyway, Henley.  I assumed you were into sport.”

“Not really Sir.”

“That surprises me.  Since you are friends with John Howard, you must have attended many football games with him.  And that sport is your preferred leisure activity.”  The words came out like a metronome, even paced and simple.  But they stuck in Henley’s mind.  What else would he and John Howard have done together?  He was clearly obsessed with sports and his fraternity.  And Henley was enjoying the gym, which was truly just another sport.

“Now,” Mr. Amplebottom continued.  “You will be working with some old men from assets and banking.  Really conservative types.  You should try speaking slower.  That will deepen your voice and give you more presence.”

“Yes, Mr. Amplebottom,” the words spilled out in nearly double the time. His tongue felt heavy as he spoke and every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.

“Very good, Henley, with practice you will also be able to use a deeper, more masculine tone.  That will be very helpful in business.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Now, just one last thing, Henley,” there was a venomous glint in his eyes as he stumbled over Henley’s name.  “Henley is a very peculiar name.  Unique.  It sets you apart when you should fit in, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Sir.” “In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression.  The men in these industries tend to be very old-fashioned.  And so much of this business is based on rubbing elbows and social connections.  You have to give yourself every possible advantage.”

“Yes, yes Sir.”

“I know you want my advice.  I am a good mentor.”

“Yes Sir.  You are a good mentor.”

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Henderson.”  Henley’s brain practically exploded.

“Yes Sir,” he muttered weakly.

“Try it on me.”

“Hello, my name is Henderson.” More brain explosions.  It felt partially like getting hit in the head and partially like taking really good meds. “Slower.”

“Hello, my name is Henderson.” A glitter bomb went off in his brain.  It felt like magic.

“Very good, Henderson.”  Hearing someone else say it, as though it always had been, made the magical glitter settle on his brain, covering it in an ashy fog.  “Well, I figure you might want this before you go for the weekend.”  He opened a drawer and pulled out a large printed piece of paper.  He handed it over to Henderson who grabbed it eagerly.  Upon seeing the amount of money on his check, Henderson’s pupils practically morphed into dollar signs.

“Associates get more than double that.”  More dollar signs flashed before his eyes.  “And it’s a fairly simple promotion.  Good work is always rewarded.”

“Yes Sir!  Thank you sir!”  The first set of words rushed out of his mouth.  He calmed himself and regained his slow speaking tempo.  He glanced down at the check and realized it said Henderson Tator.

“I don’t think I can deposit this.” “You’ll use the company banking system from now on.  You’ll find it has much better rewards for higher income brackets.  We have built in direct deposit.  But I wanted to see the look on your face the first time.” 

John Howard was hard on work when Henderson knocked.

“Henley Tator,” monotoned his deep voice.  Henderson had a flashback to Starbucks and a similar conversation, but now the shoe was on the other foot.

“Please call me Henderson, John Howard,” his thick, slow voice drawled out.  “It is more professional.

“I agree, Henderson,” Henderson could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of John Howard’s mouth.  But the stoic man’s face returned to it’s sculpted indifference immediately.  “What can I do for you?”

“I was considering asking Rip for some... herbals, for the weekend and wondered if you cared to partake.  Maybe watch a game?”  Henderson had a distinct memory of two dudes chilling out to some cheap weed and beer while watching Reefer Madness and laughing their asses off.  John Howard's face was not amused.

“No, Henderson.  You know I do not partake in such things.” “What?  You went through a whole rasta-ganja phase in college…”

“I did not,” John Howard was visibly angry even if his voice maintained its impressive monotone.  “I do not approve of illicit substances or behavior and I do not appreciate your slander.” “Woah, calm down, big guy,” not that John Howard wasn’t calm.  But Henderson knew that one punch from the dude would knock him silly.  “I was just thinking back to our college days….”

“Yes, I remember Chadwick forcing us to try the stuff during Hell Week.  As I recall, you disliked it even more than I did.”

“What?  What does Chad have to do with this?” “The only time I ever tried marjiuana,” his voice gained a hushed tone as he said the word.  “Was for a fraternity induction.  And if you continued to use it, I was unaware.  If you would like to watch the game and enjoy some beer or liquid that would be fine. But I will not associate with drug users.”  Henderson was taken aback.  This man, well maybe not this man, but this dude he might have been at one point spent nearly a semester acting like some sort of stoner God.

“I’m sorry, John Howard.”

“If you are still interested in watching the game and having a beer, I would not be opposed.”

“Yeah, totally!” Henderson swallowed awkwardly after he spoke.  Those words felt wrong.  But either way, he’d spend a little more time with Josh Howard and figure out what was going on.

-----

“Tator, Henderson,” he said at the gate.  The officer was the same as before, but there were a few subtle differences.  His tight uniform now had full length sleeves and he wore a cap on his even more masculine face.  “Good morning, Mr. Tator,” the man’s deep voice spoke slowly and severely.  His face had not a glimpse of recognition.  That was fine by Henderson because he was actually quite tired.  He’d ended up in Chester Saturday, bringing a small batch of beer to a football party.  It was very strange to him, meeting several of John Howard’s neighbors, though Chadwick was mercifully absent.  He had a great time, watching, drinking, and shooting the breeze.  The evening went on far later than he anticipated and despite the offer of a guest room, he had taken a late night Uber back into town.  Newfound interest in football meant he had spent Sunday watching football, drinking beer, and ordering pizza.  And now he was meeting John Howard for a workout with a beer hangover on a Monday.

The workout was much better this week.  He found himself making great strides in his max lifts which made him exceptionally proud.  John Howard gave his butt a big swat after they finished cleaning up and he felt his rump shudder within his pants.  His pants had gotten so much tighter and when he looked in the mirror, the back of his sportcoat practically lay flat from the shelf on his behind.  As he admired his form in the mirror, Henderson couldn’t help but brush the smooth shaved line of his prominent jaw.  It really stood out nowadays.

“Miss a spot?” John Howard asked, assuming Henderson was rubbing stray hairs.

“Hey John Howard, why is working out making my jaw bigger?”  John Howard stared at him curiously and shook his head.

“I don’t think I understand.” “Since, I’ve been working out with you, my face just seems bigger.  My jaw and chin in particular.” “Maybe losing some baby fat?  Or maybe your improved posture is making your face look different?”  Henderson couldn’t explain it.  He examined the reflection a few seconds more, sure that something was amiss. But he didn’t have an idea better than John Howard’s so he let it pass and went into the office.

Henderson’s job required calls, lots of calls.  Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests.  Henderson wasn’t actually supposed to do any research, simply talk to the right people to get appropriate evaluations and transportation.  He found himself mimicking John Howard’s voice, deep, slow, and disinterested.  It wasn’t exciting work, but the progress was slow and consistent.  Museums wanted some old posters, there was a buyer in Argentina for the chandelier, and several vintage stores wanted furniture pieces.  A few calls were less productive, with upset protestors yelled at him.  He’d tried being sympathetic at first, but quickly found that being stern and direct got them off the line quicker so he could return to work.

His days soon blended together.  Morning workouts, work, lunch, work, home, sleep, repeat.  He sometimes worried that he was missing out on stuff, his old friends called or texted but he rarely responded anymore.  It always seemed to happen at an inconvenient time.  Eventually, he joined John Howard for his evening workout as well, the results were great, even if he’d had to go up a size or two.  Walking around with pecs straining a dress shirt felt incredible, like a huge dose of testosterone had been injected into him.  Strangely, his buttocks were growing considerably, in strength and size.  But it accumulated a soft layer of fat that spread across, making him even wider.  He’d asked John Howard about it once, and he simply told him a big butt was better than a big gut.  And Henderson had to agree.  None of the men here had big guts.  Mr. Amplebottom had a huge butt.  And Henderson wanted to be like Mr. Amplebottom as much as possible.  More and more, Henderson felt extremely grateful towards his superior.  Not only had he hired an unqualified applicant, but he had acted like a mentor and guide and coach.  He gave Henderson more and more advice, about standing, walking, talking, and each time he came back eager to learn more.

“Stand tall, Henderson. Head up, don’t slouch.  Keep your hands at your side.  And don’t fidget.”

“A deeper voice commands attention better.  Be direct.  Contain emotions, you are better suited to appear calm and in control at all times.  There is no need to appear energetic or excited.”

“Wide steps, heel to toe.  Legs apart.”

-----

“Tator, Henderson,” he said calmly as he buzzed in.  It was old hat by now.  The security guard was probably the same one as before.  Henderson paid less attention nowadays to things like that.  He had noticed that the security uniform had slowly been replaced with something more formal.  The man wore a coat and bowtie along with his cap, looking halfway between a mobster and the world's most muscular butler.

“Good morning, Mr. Tator,” he intoned back as he let him inside.  Henderson felt the weight of his body as he walked, his chest stuck out and helped keep his chin up.  The broad shoulders made him feel like he took up the entire doorway.  And his big wide stride made his butt and crotch kind of wiggle as he walked.  He could feel the fabric of his pants tighten around his balls and release, then tighten on the other side.  It was mildly arousing.

As he walked in, he greeted a few of his fellow coworkers as he walked to his desk.  Moments after sitting down, he received a call to head to Mr. Amplebottom’s office.

He stood at attention in front of the desk, legs apart, arms slack at his side, and staring directly into the grey eyes of his supervisor.  Amplebottom seemed to examine his employee for a moment before directing him to sit.  Henderson did, his increasingly wide and plump bottom expanding out, consuming nearly 3/4ths of the extra wide seat.  He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a large moose knuckle.

“The last sales were processed by accounts payable.  You did a good job getting every last dollar out of that disgusting building.” “Thank you, Mr. Amplebottom,” came the monotonous reply.

“How do you feel about the Theatre?”

“The Hemple Housing Porter project will be very profitable.” “Yes, but how about the Cherub Theatre.  It’s an old building.” “The lot is better suited for new development.” “Do you like theatre, Henderson.” “No Sir, I was never interested in art.” “More of a sports fellow?” “Yes Sir, I love football.” “Bet you were a big ole lineman back in the day, huh?” “No, I never played.” “I’m pretty shocked,” Amplebottom smirked.  “So, no hard feelings about tearing down a 100 year old Theatre.” “No Sir.  The development will be very profitable for Hempelbaum.”

“Good man,” Amplebottom kept his eyes focused on Henderson, maintaining steady eye contact.  “Well, looks like you’ve earned your first commission check.”  He pushed a small piece of paper forward to Henderson, who picked it up.  His eyes bulged and dollar signs flashed before his eyes.

“Holy crap!” “Don’t swear Henderson, it’s unbecoming.” “My apologies Mr. Amplebottom.  I wasn’t expecting this.” “Three percent commission can be an awful lot when you do a good job.  And your percentage goes up with promotions.  And good work like this makes me think you’ll be getting on very soon.”

Henderson thanked Mr. Amplebottom profusely and headed straight to John Howard’s desk.

“John Howard Johnson,” he said in a deep, slow voice. 

“Henderson Tator, what can I do for you?”

“I got my first commission check,” he said, flashing it for John Howard to see.

“Congratulations.  It feels nice to receive appropriate compensation.  Men like us work hard, we deserve to make money.”

“It feels great.  I could get a down payment on a house.” “Or you could apply for a membership at Rolling Acres Country Club.”

“Oh, no offense, John Howard, but I don’t think I’m country club material.”

“I think you’d like it, Henderson.  It’s very nice, and a good way to make connections with other successful men.”  John Howard flicked his wrists and displayed a set of ostentatious cufflinks engraved with the country club logo, a laurel wreath surrounding a tree with “Rolling Acres” written over it. 

“That seems flashy for you.” “I was accepted as a legacy member.  They only let legacy members purchase them.”

“They’re very shiny.” “Yes, too much for the office normally.  But I was very excited.  Oswald Laurence Carrington IV called personally to inform me.  It’s very rare to get a call specifically from the Director of the Board.”

“I’m happy for you,” Henderson said simply.

“Come golfing this weekend.  I know you will enjoy it.  I can bring guests now!” John Howard’s voice was still precise but there was just the subtle hint of mirth that made Henderson smile slightly.

“Fine, what do I need to wear?  I’m sure they have a dress code.” “Meet at my home before.  I will have appropriate clothing.”

-----

Henderson had thought a lot about Chester since his last time out here.  The spacious green lawns, gigantic homes, and expensive cars cleaned daily should have disgusted him or at least made his eyes roll.  Nowadays, he couldn’t help but imagine what life must be like out here.  There weren’t music festivals or concerts, but there weren’t smelly people vomiting on the sidewalk or polluting cabs on every corner honking loudly.  John Howard’s elegant home had a room dedicated for watching football.  It wasn’t even the media room, he said there was a room with a movie projector on the second floor!  This was just his man cave, except it was a sunlit, high-ceilinged game room.  It was bigger than the apartment Henderson was currently living in alone.  He’d kicked out his roommates a month back.  They smoked too much weed, it made him dizzy, and he could easily afford the rent on his own nowadays.

John Howard answered the door dressed exactly as he went to work.  Henderson had expected something more casual- he’d worn khakis and a pink polo himself.  Instead, his bulkier counterpart was embarrassed by his attire and insisted he put on one of his old suits.  Henderson thought about protesting, but instead allowed himself to be turned into a Ken doll clone of his coworker, the only difference being the subtle patterns on the tie.  He asked John Howard if they were golfing like this, and he insisted they would be changing at the club.  Henderson wouldn’t imagine most people showed up dressed like this, but whatever made John Howard comfortable.

Henderson was glad he’d been made to change.  After they got past the gate and into the main clubhouse, every man he passed had a tie on.  Some of the younger lads were dressed in polo and khakis, but the acne and baby fat on their faces made him happy to not be confused with them.  They checked in and “Legacy John Howard Johnson” entered his guests name and they headed to the lockers to change.  John Howard handed him a pair of black trousers made of a stretchy and breathable material.

“You sure this one is mine?” “They’re identical.” “Oh, I’m not sure I’ll fit.” “I’m certain we’re the same size, Henderson.”  Which they were apparently.  Henderson was shocked as the pants expanded over his thighs, showing off the thick trunks he’d developed and the amble jiggly buttocks that pressed generously backwards.  They sat a little higher on his waist than he was comfortable with, but he didn’t want the pants to sag on the ground.  John Howard handed him a white sport polo with the clubs logo on the left breast.  Then he added a black golf cap.  Henderson had been afraid he might be wearing jodhpurs and knee socks, so the mainstream outfit was relieving.  They tidied up in the mirror, and seeing the two of them side by side, dressed exactly the same, Henderson had a bit of a shock realizing how much he looked like John Howard.  His body had filled out tremendously, broad shoulders and baseball like biceps, a thick but strong core, that overly wide ass that led into legs and calves formed by deadlifts and deep squats.  The biggest thing was his face.  He really could swear that his face had been almost heart shaped, but now there was a distinctly square shape to the thing.  His longish ivy league haircut gave him a more youthful appearance than his coworker, but otherwise he might have been a son or young brother.

As they walked out onto the course, golf bags strapped across their backs, Henderson could see a tall figure in the distance, seeming to greet them with a small wave.  John Howard returned the small gesture.

“Who’s that?” “Chadwick Stratton.  I invited him to play with us?” “You invited Chad?” “Chadwick, yes.  He’s been a friend since my fraternity days.  You know that Henderson.  I thought you would get on quite well.  Besides, he’s on good terms with many important people.  No one is a better connection.”  Chadwick was in stretchy salmon colored pants and a white polo exactly like the ones they were wearing.  He had a ballcap on with their college logo on the front.  Locks of blonde hair spilled under the brim.

“Hey bro,” Chadwick shook John Howard’s hand and pulled him in for a pat on the back.  For his part, John Howard tensed up but did not resist.  “Damn, you’re getting thicker all the time.”  He groped John Howard’s shoulders aggressively.

“Henderson, this is Chadwick Stratton.  Chadwick, this is Henderson Tator.  We work together in acquisitions at Hemplebaum.  He also attended college with us.”  Chadwick grabbed Henderson into a similar handshake to hug and Henderson felt a strange repulsion in his stomach.

“You look familiar.  Were you a brother?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Henderson replied.

“What fraternity were you in?” “I wasn’t.” “A big bro like you?  Damn, we missed you.  Would have loved to see you on our intramural teams.  Bruiser like you can definitely rough some people up huh?” He laughed playfully and punched Henderson solidly in the chest.  It didn’t hurt.  “Well, let’s play.” “Are we taking the cart?” Henderson asked, pointing to a line of white, polished golf carts.

“Nah,” Chadwick reached out and gave both John Howard and Henderson hard butt slaps.  “Figure you two fatasses need some cardio!”  He laughed barkingly and John Howard laughed along.  “Kidding, bro.  I know dudes like you are all about that max lift.  But I still got abs and the ladies love ‘em!”  He pulled up the bottom of his shirt showing off the solid, smooth abdominals carved into his tiny waist.

Chadwick was extremely friendly and a little physical.  Upon learning that Henderson had never golfed, Chadwick took it upon himself to teach him everything he could, resulting in him saddling up behind him to correct stance and form, but also jokingly pressing his crotch into Henderson’s butt and thrusting.  The boys all laughed at the inappropriate horseplay.

Henderson had a hard time hating Chadwick.  Taking away all the pomp of politics and social structure, Chadwick turned into an incredibly friendly alpha.  The kind of guy who would be quarterback, homecoming king, and fraternity president (all things he learned Chadwick had been).  And Henderson was just another one of his bros, dressed in expensive clothes, spending a morning on the course talking about work and finances and spouses.  He could remember specific events, Chadwick being horrible during the election season when he was campaigning for a fraternity brothers father, taunting an LGBT students group, and pissing on Tara Kissimmee’s car.  But his brain was giving each of these events a little different interpretation now: he was working hard to get Senator Mulligan elected, taunting the gay kids had been meant as a harmless prank, and he was drunk out of his mind with Tara and she never pressed charges so it wasn’t that big a deal.  Chadwick was just being a drunken frat- fraternity brother like everyone expected.

“Wife’s pregnant with the third.  I got started early!” He bragged while grabbing his crotch. “Chrissy Collop was always into you.” “Yup!  Her dad’s super rich, he’s president of the C-Group, that big currency trading operation.  Old, old money.  But how about you?” Chadwick got a mischievous glint in his eyes as he hand reached towards John Howard’s crotch and gave it a hard smack.  John Howard yelped as he grabbed his balls.

“Nut check!” Chadwick busted out laughing.  “But seriously, bro, getting those fellas ready?  Almost breeding season, boys,” he whispered to John Howard’s balls.  Henderson was kind of disturbed but John Howard was laughing and so he joined in too.

“What does that mean?”

“J.H. is getting married.  Missy Dorianger.”

“Congratulations!” Henderson said happily.

“Thank you. We’re finishing some final details.  Her Mother is very specific.  Sometimes she acts as though I’m unworthy.” “Missy can’t do better.” “She is a perfectly suitable spouse.  I am very pleased with the situation.” “Can’t wait til we can throw that bachelor party!”

“We’ll do something at the club.  I have no desire to watch you stagger around Vegas and hold your head while you vomit.” “It’s your party bro!  I’d be holding your hair for once,” Chadwick laughed.  John Howard rolled his eyes as he set up his shot and launched the ball.  He let out a whistle of appreciation.

“Good shot,” Chadwick and Henderson said simultaneously.  John Howard suppressed a grin.

“Henderson, I know it’s late notice but I hope you can at least attend the wedding.  The club has strict guest limits and I’m running out of passes for nonmembers for the bachelor party.” “Thank you John Howard.  I’m sure I can make it.” “And if you get your membership before, you can enjoy all the fun!” Chadwick winked at Henderson and snagged at his nipple that pressed out firmly from the polo. The boys laughed and continued playing.

The locker room at the clubhouse was a lively place stocked with bathing supplies and also booze.  Henderson intended on just showering up and getting dressed, but John Howard and Chadwick were both sitting in their briefs (Chadwicks a traditional cut, John Howard's extremely high waisted to fit over his enormous rump) and undershirts removing the cork from a glass bottle and pouring three full glasses of amber liquid.

“Bourbon,” Chadwick said shortly as he handed Henderson a glass before taking a deep swig of his own.  Henderson was very confused about what to do.  He was standing in a towel while his two golf buddies relaxed in their unmentionables sipping on a bourbon that probably cost more than those obnoxious club cufflinks John Howard has.  He didn’t want to upset his new friends, and the financial connections they represented, so he pulled on his grey Hanes Boxer briefs (his growing buttocks had necessitated so many new underwear purchases that he was desperately searching for cheaper brands) and white undershirt and sat down.  Taking a big swig of the liquid, he did his best to relax, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs as his friends chatted.

“You’re getting pretty good at the trap shot,” Chadwick toasted John Howard.

“You’re still better,” John Howard was already refilling his drink happily.

“Always gonna be, dude,” Chadwick laughed again.  “But keep trying.  I enjoy competition.” He held out his cup which John Howard dutifully refilled.  “Man, I’m glad you’re here, J.H..  I miss having some bros.  This club is great, but too many of the brothers moved away.  But at least I got you two!” Chadwick winked at Henderson and encouraged him to finish up as another round needed to be poured.  Despite his increasingly sturdy frame, Henderson hadn’t been drinking much lately.  He hadn’t been much other than working, but the alcohol was working its way through his golf dehydrated body quickly.

The trio continued chatting until John Howard excused himself to the toilet, leaving Henderson alone with a man he once thought of as detestable.  But this afternoon was fun.  He got a small knot in his stomach as Chadwick turned to him with a viperous grin.

“Henley?  Henley Tator?” Chadwick suddenly said, dropping his voice low.  Henderson was confused for a moment.  He hadn’t thought of himself as Henley in a while.  It was almost shocking.  But then he cautiously nodded yes.

“Please, call me Henderson, Chadwick.” “Oh, I will, Henderson,” he emphasized the name.  “You look good.  I was pretty sure I recognized you, though you look a lot better now.  Hemplebaum’s done wonders for you.” “Thank you, Chadwick.  I am very happy working at Hemplebaum Incorporated.”  Chadwick nodded and smiled as the robotic words left Henderson’s mouth.

“I like having fraternity brothers around.  It’s a real lifetime bond, ya know?” He took another deep swig.  “Something that really defines a man.  Who he is. Who he’s going to be.” He seemed to stare at Henderson curiously.  For his part, Henderson had no idea what to say, and so stayed silent.  “If I’d known this is who you were going to be, I’d have made sure you were my brother.  Of course, I knew Henley.  Not Henderson.  Not big strapping Henderson.”

“Yes,” Henderson stirred his glass and sat there.  Chadwick was slurring slightly, but Henderson wondered if he'd be able to stand up.  This drink was strong and Chadwick was pouring him a third.

“Now, Henderson.  What do you think Henderson was like in college?”

“I’m Henderson.” “Yeah, but in college you weren’t.  I just wonder what you wish you had done?”

“I wish I’d gone to football games.  I love football.” “Fuck yes dude.  Big guy like you played in high school,” it wasn’t a question.

“I’d want to have a group of men to watch sports with.” “Yup, every game we had a part at the house.”  Henderson stared at him with glassy eyes.  He was confused.  It seemed like Chadwick wanted him to say something but he could only shrug.

“Would have been nice.” “I hope you apply for membership.  The club would be a good fit for you.”

“I really enjoyed myself.  It’s very expensive.  I was kind of looking into getting a new apartment.” “Where are you living nowadays?” “I have a two bedroom downtown.  It’s a heap, but I live alone.” “Thought about buying a house?” “I can’t afford a house in the city.” “What about in Chester?”

“What?! No, I haven’t, I mean, I don’t need a mansion,” Henderson sputtered as he spoke despite training himself to not.

“Not yet, but once you get a wife and some kids, plus Chester is right next to Rolling Acres.” “I’m not sure it’s right for me.” “It’s right for Henderson.  For football playing, fraternity brother, corporate shark Henderson,” Chadwick smiled and let out a tiny burp as he finished another drink.  Henderson blushed, though it was hard to tell through his liquor flushed face.

“It’s hard to buy a house in Chester.” “I can set you up.” “Really?” The idea was setting itself in Henderson’s mind.  Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it embedded itself deep inside, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club.  It was always the goal.  It’s why he did what he did.

“I always support my Kappa Sigma Alpha brothers.” He poured two more drinks and raised his glass in a toast.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long. Four years forged the lifetime bond.”  Chadwick said and stared at Henderson.  Henderson hesitated, but his mind wanted it so bad.  He wanted Chadwick to like him, to be his brother, to go back and be a total frat boy in college.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long.  Four years forged the lifetime bond.”  Chadwick smiled and the two chugged down their drinks.  John Howard showed up a moment later and plopped down while pouring himself another, though he was several behind now.

“What did I miss?”  The other two smirked and poured another round and the three K-Sig brothers passed another toast to their fraternity.

-----

Henderson woke up naked with a gigantic erection on the softest white sheets he’d ever felt.  HIs head throbbed like never before.  A glass of water and several ibuprofen sat next to the bed and he swallowed both without hesitation.  Looking around, he admired the pristine cleanliness and order of the room.  He was pretty sure where he must be, even if he’d never seen John Howard’s guest room before.

A white cotton robe laid over an old wooden chair, but no other clothes were about.  Wrapping the fabric tightly around himself, he opened the door and peered down an equally clean and quiet hallway.  He ducked back in the bedroom, helping himself to the toiletries in the attached bath before heading downstairs.  John Howard was dressed similarly, though the half closure of his robe meant that Henderson could see the waistband of his briefs.  He smiled weakly at Henderson and offered him a cup of coffee which he accepted happily.

“Where are my clothes?” Henderson croaked after a strong sip.

“Washing machine.  You vomited all over your suit.”

“Your suit, sorry man.”

“Quite fine Henderson,” John Howard let out a quiet laugh.  “Haven’t had a night like that in years.  Reminded me of our fraternity days.” Our fraternity days.  Henderson went to protest but found his brain muddled.  They had talked about it a lot last night, keggers, hell week, initiation, rush, all kinds of random details of fraternity life flooded his brain.  The memories seemed like his mostly, though they had a dreamy quality that he attributed to the hangover.

“Remember that party where Van Boegearden vomited after his keg stand?  And then he insisted on drinking it up again?”  Henderson laughed hoarsely and John Howard joined in. “He’s a congressman now,” John Howard added.

“Good, good.  Always knew he’d do well in politics.”  They both took large sips of their coffee.  John Howard was reading a paper but also had ESPN on, reviewing yesterday's college football.

“We missed the game!” Henderson moaned.

“We watched the game, Henderson.  At the club.” “Oh God.  They’re never going to let me join now!” “I wouldn’t be so sure.  Oswald V seemed quite amused by you.” “Which one is that again?”

“Son of the Board Chairman.  I’d commit that to memory.” “I have now.  Well, so long as he was amused.  Hopefully he can appreciate old fraternity brothers getting together.” “We’ll have to do it again soon.” “Hopefully often once I’m a Rolling acres member.” “I’m glad you’re going to apply,” John Howard smiled.

“I belong at a place like Rolling Acres,” Henderson said with a new confidence.

“Men like us need places like Rolling Acres,” John Howard replied.

“I’m going to have to call a cab,” Henderson said looking at the clock.

“I can take you.” “It’s quite a drive into town.” “I slept through church,” John Howard said, yawning.  “And I’m not feeling up to a workout today.  Besides, I thought I might take you around Chester first.  There are a few lovely homes for sale you might want to see.” “That would be delightful!”  The two men turned their attention back to the TV and their coffees, nursing the kind of hangovers they swore they’d never get again but always did.

-----

Henderson strode into the building swiftly, impossibly perfect posture, dressed in a charcoal suit and tie that he borrowed again from John Howard.  He noticed there was a new guard at the gate when he gave his name.

“Fine weather, Henderson?” the young guard, a redhead with a trace of a tattoo on his neck asked.  Henderson was appalled.  He’d ended up spending most of Sunday at the club, enjoying dinner at the men’s grill.  At the club, the staff spoke using honorifics and only used questions relative to their service.  He was deeply annoyed that this young guard spoke.  However, he buried that feeling as he hustled to the elevator.  He had a busy morning ahead.

After his workout, a grueling leg day that left him wobbly but his calves looked tremendous, Henderson asked Mr. Amplebottom’s secretary for a meeting, and his 9 a.m. was open.  So it was that he found himself standing before his boss's beautiful desk, arms at his side, staring into his eyes.

“What can I do for you, Henderson?”  Henderson had been trying to find the words to be concise but found that impossible.

“I want every piece of advice you can give me.”

“Why is that?” Mr. Amplebottom was suppressing a smug smile though Henderson didn’t notice.

“I want to be just like you.  And John Howard.  And the men at Rolling Acres.” “Enjoy the club?” “Immensely.  I belong there.  And here at Hemplebaum.  I want to become a partner.  I want to move out to Chester, in a house, not in some rubbish apartment in this squalid town,” he cast a disgusted look out the skyline of the window.  “I want money.”  That was low, deep and felt like a great truth awoke inside him.  Mr. Amplebottom smiled.

“So, Henderson, are you willing to fully commit yourself to Hemplebaum?” “I am sir,” he replied like a soldier.

“Excellent.  Well, I may say this suit is a good start.” “I’m borrowing it from John Howard.” “Yes, a good start.  You should get a dozen I think, at least.  Plus a few formal ones for special occasions.  Many ties and shoes.  New supports as well, you do look much better with your trousers at your proper waist.” “Thank you Sir.”

“A haircut.  I’m quite surprised you’ve stuck with the ivy league so long.  You are much better suited to something short.  Like mine and John Howard’s.  The part is a classic.  But I can set you up with my barber.”

“Yes Sir.” “Now, there is a rather large change that I believe is a necessity for your continued progression at Hemplebaum as well as your new social circle.” “What is that sir?” “Tator.  Just a gross, common name.  You agree?”  Henderson snapped back confirmation even though it made his head spin.  “Personally, I’ve always been very fond of alliterative names.  It’s a nice mnemonic device socially.  And it looks so great monogrammed.” “You want me to change my last name?  To something with an H?” Henderson asked, slightly confused.

“Well, I thought you wanted to.  To succeed.” “Yes Sir.” “So you want to change your name?  To what?” “I don’t know Sir.” “So you want my help, is that what you are saying?”  The words were coming so fast and his eyes so enticing that Henderson nodded.

“Yes Sir, please tell me what my name should be.”  Amplebottom leaned back in his chair, clearly relishing in the moment even though Henderson had no idea why.

“This is my favorite part.” Henderson didn’t say anything.  His boss clearly didn’t want him to.  And he’d just asked for help so there was no need to say anything.  “It’s a great moment, when you realize you want to be whatever I want you to be.  I was wrong about you Henderson.  I did not think you’d make it.  But here you are, willing and able.  And looking much better with the muscles.”  He reached into a drawer in his desk and produced something that looked like a ring box.  Ceremoniously, he pulled it open before Henderson’s eyes.  Inside were two silver and black cufflinks.  LIghtly engraved in the black was three vertical lines and one horizontal connecting them all.

“Henderson Harold Hearst. H.H.H.  Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking.  Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.  Yes, Henderson Harold Hearst, Jr.”  Amplebottom suddenly got a concerned look in his eyes and made even more intense contact with Henderson.  “You’ll insist on being called Henderson.  No nicknames or shortening it.  Certainly, not Henry.  Tell them it was Grandmama’s maiden name.  A fitting tribute.”  Amplebottom seemed deeply satisfied as he leaned back in his chair a bit.  His jacket fell a touch to the side, and Henderson caught a glimpse of his black silk bracer.  He eyed the waist of the trousers, noting the lack of wrinkles and the perfect transition from charcoal wool to starched, cotton white.  Nothing was ever out of place on his supervisor, it was probably easier when you had such a boring wardrobe, each piece fit together without thinking.

-----

Henderson had set up an appointment at Winston and Co. right after his meeting with Amplebottom. They booked him for a half day on Saturday, which seemed like a very long appointment but they had assured him that this would be a one time appointment to get a permanent account situated.  His palpable excitement made his workouts and work days fly by.  He’d reworn the suit he borrowed from John Howard three times.  It was remarkable how it made him feel, strong, manly, and also kind of plain.  He’d talk shop with other men in his department, bland conversations about work and sports and home, that he found uninteresting but comforting.  There existed very little variety among the men at acquisitions.  No one ever brought up a thoughtful or challenging conversation, the most confrontational it ever got was between rival football teams.

And so it was that Henderson showed at exactly at 8 a.m. in front of the delightfully antiquated haberdashery (as John Howard had called it) for the full treatment.  He was greeted studiously by an old man with silver hair and thick black glasses who introduced himself as Art Sebert and insisted on calling Henderson “Mr. Hearst.”  That name made his blood jump and boil.  He’d thought the concept awkward only days ago, but found himself spouting off the name with such a simple, natural cadence he might as well have been born with it.

Forced to strip down in a rather spacious dressing room fitted with a few chairs and mirrors, Art had offered him coffee which he happily accepted after adding some cream and milk.  His personal fears around nudity had decreased in the corporate locker room but it still took him a minute to feel comfortable letting Art assess his bare form.  But he measured every inch with such quiet professionalism that Henderson soon became quite comfortable.  Art rattled off small measurements as he worked, informing Henderson that he’d need custom clothing for life.  Henderson found his brain startled by that information, but an honest assessment in the mirror showed how true that statement was.  He simply wasn’t built like a normal person anymore.  His neck was thick and his shoulders cartoonishly broad.  The jutting chest gave him a permanently puffed up vibe.  Uninterested in cardio, his thick rib cage continued straight down into hard abs.  And then the true shock, his sumptuous round booty.  It looked unreal, not only were his hips and buttocks wide and strong, but somehow there was a gelatinous layer on top that wiggled and shook whenever he moved.  It was a shockingly feminine touch on an otherwise hyper masculine body.  Henderson loved his butt.  It reminded him of being a lineman in high school, it was just like John Howard’s and Amplebottom’s.  Ridiculous but masculine and prominent, it took up space, like a man should.

“Alright, Mr. Hearst, give these a try,” he handed Henderson two carefully folded white objects.  The first was an undershirt, quite stiff and recently pressed.  He pulled it on with little problem, the starchy material felt soft enough on his skin and he appreciated how there wasn’t any excess pulling or snugness.  Even better, it actually reached past his belly button, which was further than his current shirts were doing, but still seemed undesirable.  The next item was a comically cut pair of briefs, again seemingly starched and pressed, blindly white with a simple waistband with a thin blue line running halfway through.  Henderson’s mind mounted a short-lived protest that didn’t even exit his mouth.  He’d known it was coming, it was in the book, from his boss, even at the club.  It was just another way he was going to fit in with the others.  It was deceptively erotic, something overly personal but seemingly inconsequential that he was giving up to fit in.  He pulled the cotton fabric up his body, watching the white fabric stretch perfectly across his rump.  He attempted to leave the underpants lying low, just above his hip bones, but Art stepped up and dutifully pulled them higher, keeping the undershirt tucked in as they stretched over the belly button, up the stomach, before settling just below his rib cage.  He looked like a strange sort of sausage stuffed into a bleached white packaging.  There was something about, so uniform and simple, that Henderson couldn’t stop himself from smiling broadly at his reflection.

It went significantly faster after that.  Art offered him a range of trousers of slightly different fits, making marks and eyeing alterations, seemingly finding the best base.  An overly starched, white button down slipped over his upper body.  Henderson let it hang open as he sat in his skivvies and shirt, drinking a whiskey the store offered, as a suitable pair of trousers were whipped up for the day.  Half an hour later, he was being ordered to button up his shirt, as silky black dress socks were pulled on his feet and the wool fabric of the pants began their climb.   Higher, much higher than his old pants, even seemingly than the borrowed ones, these custom trousers rose up until the very top of the pants rested just millimeters below the briefs.  The pants were already designed for braces, completely lacking belt loops, and Art adjusted them precisely, ensuring that his pants would sit at this exact height forevermore.  Henderson recognized something was being pushed out, some bits of color or variance in his lifestyle and perhaps personality as he allowed himself to be dressed like a doll, clothing cut and shaped so he wouldn’t even have an option on how to wear it, let alone what to wear.  It was a deeply comforting thought.

The process was repeated with the coat, explaining why he had been required to book hours of time with a salesman and tailor.  But they assured him, everything would be perfect afterwards.  All his measurements would be on file, new pieces would be created on a strict schedule to ensure he had neither too few nor too many pieces.  He enjoyed another libation as he waited, the old fashioned television in the room had been flipped on to college football and he delighted in sitting back and watching.  Not that he really sat back as it were, the stiff shirt and exact cut of his trousers seemed to keep him upright and tall, legs planted firmly on the ground, the crotch of his pants pulled tight into a prominent moose knuckle, head staring almost directly forward.  Henderson sort of laughed to himself about it, feeling slightly robotic, and enjoying the rigid pose.  It reminded him of John Howard.  And he liked John Howard.  He liked being like John Howard.

The cut of the jacket was phenomenal, even with a thick waist, his broad shoulders and bulging pecs required a fantastic V shape that made him look thick and strong and almost debonair, in a sort of boring way.  Art selected a beautiful silk tie, completely generic and tasteful, and made it taut around the neck.  He stepped back, admiring his work and checking the length of the cut of small sections as Henderson stood, militaristically straight posture, arms at his side, staring straight ahead.  Once everything seemed to be in order, he instructed Henderson to remove the tie, jacket, and oxford shirt.  He’d continue working as another man offered him a pair of house slippers and escorting him into a room that looked like an old-timey barbershop with two chairs.

The wall had four pictures on it of generic hairstyles, each numbered.  His barber pointed at number one and told him he would receive that cut unless he did not approve.  Henderson felt nothing and simply nodded.  The shearing began, his back and sides thinned and trimmed and the edges shaved smooth.  The top was reduced and thinned repeatedly, clumps of hair falling lazily to the floor.  Each time, the barber seemed to be examining something on his head, but he said nothing to Henderson, who was silent in turn.  Finally, apparently satisfied, he squirted a greasy clump of goo into his hands and began working through Henderson’s much thinner hair before combing it aggressively.  The final look should have been shocking, but Henderson seemed to have accepted it already.  His hair was now dark, short, and combed and parted within an inch of his life.  The product gave his hair of bright sheen that was the only notable trait on the otherwise generic hairstyle.  It was an exact replica of John Howard’s and Amplebottom’s and almost every man in acquisitions.  It was perfect.

The only thing left was a hot shave, which left his skin buttery smooth, and tingly once the aftershave was applied.  The barber briskly informed that all the items would be added to his order, so he’d have everything he needed to maintain his appearance.  Henderson thanked him shortly and was directed back to the dressing room.  The slippers were removed and a highly polished pair of black oxfords were slipped onto his feet.  He was redressed in shirt, tie, and jacket and Art began applying a few small touches.  First, his french cuffs were closed with shiny silver cufflinks, square, with a delightful HHH cut in them.  A white handkerchief was tucked into his breast pocket and folded ever so carefully so that the monogrammed HHH was just visible over the jacket.  A dab of cologne followed, smelling woody, leathery, and astringent.  They informed him he could leave today with undergarments, ties, and grooming products, and to return in three days to pick up a large order, twelves suits, twenty four shirts, plus two speciality suits (one in seersucker and a formal black) in addition to a tuxedo.  He shook hands with the salesmen who had helped him, feeling quite pleased with the whole experience.

-----

“Heart, Henderson,” he said curtly to the well dressed guard at the gate.  Henderson noticed that he was far less chatty than last time.  In fact, the security officer barely seemed to register Henderson as a person, and more as an item line to check off.  He marched dutifully to the elevator.  Henderson admired himself in the mirror as he waited.  Quite frankly, he embodied everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich.  Those commission checks had added up quite quickly, combined with incentives and the fact that Amplebottom had been hinting that he would be moving up to Associate very soon, so Henderson was feeling mighty pleased with himself, and honestly a bit haughty, as he slipped how hands up and down the tasteful braces holding up his trousers.  Despite the fact that his clothing hardly moved an inch in any given direction, he still unconsciously attempted to pull up his pants and underwear, making sure everything was in place.  It was a big day after all.

Mr. Amplebottom took John Howard and Henderson out to a large lunch in a company car that was clean as a whistle and beyond luxurious.  As they stepped out of the Partner elevator, they were greeted by a strapping man in a full chauffeur outfit, cap, gloves, and jodhpurs.  He greeted the men properly before taking Amplebottom’s keys and practically running to fetch his car.  He held the door open militantly as each man entered.  Henderson stopped to give him a good look, there was something familiar about him.  Henderson realized this was the old door man from his side, although the corporate makeover and more servile uniform gave him a less threatening appearance, and his empty obedience was a far better look than the military scowl and tattoos that were once visible.

The car took them downtown.  Amplebottom had made casual conversation about work but the atmosphere in the car was mildly tense.  Henderson had never been invited to something like this and he wanted to make a good impression.  John Howard seemed rather himself, upright and professional, nary a mention of personal life unless questioned.  

They exited the car and Amplebottom led them into a high rise building with black reflective glass covering the outside, making it look kind of like a supervillain’s lair.  They rode the elevator up, stopping at the 6th floor.  Unfinished with not even a desk or chair in site, they ambled over to the window and looked out.  They weren’t high enough to have a great view of the city, but they did overlook one particularly small building below.  Police had cordoned off a section as a throng of protestors with signs seemed to be confronting them.  Behind the police, by the building, were construction workers.

“I thought you’d want to see the results of your hard work,” Amplebottom said slyly.  John Howard and Henderson stared down curiously as the protestors seemed to get louder.  He hadn’t been here in so long, Henderson was unsure what he was looking at.  The chintzy building was old and surrounded by expensive real estate.  His mind began wondering how much the lot was worth and who could possibly own it when John Howard spoke.

“Cherub Theatre,” his voice was different than usual, quicker and lighter.  Amplebottom smiled.

“The future site of Hemple Housing Porter,” he gloated.  “And it’s all thanks to you.”  John Howard seemed uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot.  Henderson just looked quietly.  Then something happened.  The entire building shook and collapsed.

“Well, it wasn’t very grand, I admit.  But that’s the start!” Ample said happily.  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two envelopes and handed one to each of the men.  Henderson opened his tenderly, wondering what awaited him.  It was a very formal letter, on thick paper, declaring his promotion to Associate with a new salary of 400k a year, four percent commission, and a new set of company perks.  Henderson practically came inside his briefs and when he looked at Amplebottom he was holding out his hand.  Henderson accepted the firm handshake happily.

“Wow,” John Howard spoke quietly as he read the letter.

“Surprised?” “Yes, I, thank you, Sir!” John Howard’s momentary trepidation was gone, replaced with a beaming smile and he shook both their hands with the energy of a toddler on redbull.

“You’re a little young, to be honest.  But I think you’ve demonstrated a dedication and promise that will benefit Hemplebaum for years to come.  And Hemplebaum rewards good employees, Junior Partner John Howard Johnson.” Amplebottom emphasized the last bit so Henderson understood.  J.H. had just moved into a whole new income bracket.  A whole new way of seeing the world.  There had been some trepidation, some fear, as he had looked at the theatre, but now all he saw were profit margins.

“I'm starving.  There’s a great steakhouse nearby.  I say we get some prime rib and bourbon and have a toast.”  The three fatasses business men strutted out of the building, richer and more content than ever before.

-----

Things had progressed really well for Henderson.  He was now a member in good standing at Rolling Acres Country Club, which meant he’d been bumped up from guest to groomsman at John Howard’s oversized wedding.  Apparently, everyone and their dog walker’s best friend had been invited, so long as their net worth was greater than John Howard’s.  Which is how Henderson found himself, sitting in an auxiliary dressing room with the rest of the groom’s party, in nothing but their skivvies getting toasted hours before the ceremony.  John Howard himself was maintaining a pretty stoic demeanor, but several of the groomsmen were going whole hog.

“Just brilliant, J.H.,” Rip patted John Howard on the shoulder again, his eyes were slightly unfocused.

“Careful, you’ll be unconscious before the ceremony,” came a stern warning for their co-worker Bert.

“Imma juss wishing my buddy all the damn- happiness in the world!  Hopefully, your marriage is happier than mine!”  Rip sat down clearly woozy.  Rumor around the club was that his wife did not “approve of his dalliances” like he had hoped.  He’d recently spent some time warning the college boys about the value of pre-nups.

“Have some water, Rip,” Chadwick said, forcing a tall glass of sparkling water into his hands.  Even though it was John Howard’s day, Chadwick did a great job of ensuring he was generally at the center of things.  He’d been the best man, the bachelor party planner, the one who got everyone to relive fraternity induction by sitting around half naked drinking whiskey straight on a saturday afternoon.  There was something deeply fraternal about the thing.  Henderson could recall himself and a few dozen other young freshmen in a similar situation as their pledge master and rush chair had guided them through a vow committing them to the fraternity.

“I’m ready for another, not you Rip.  You’re sitting this one out,” came a highly affected male voice.  It belonged to Oswald V, practically a guest of honor.  John Howard had been absolutely beside himself when Oz had agreed to be a groomsman.  Henderson was happy for him.  J.H. was definitely a social climber and at Rolling Acres he could not do any better.  For his part, Oz was charming and congenial, born into a life of socializing and money, he had all the natural airs of an heir apparent.  

“So, I got the bridesmaid situation worked out,” Chadwick leaned into John Howard and Henderson.  “Missy was insisting on Kitty Bell being third, but I got her to swing her down the line and swap in Millie Cashon.  Oz doesn’t like her, but fuck him, he’s married.  So, Henderson, I got you set up with the hot one.  And the single one.”  Henderson looked bashfully at the floor as the other two stared at him.

“Oh, okay,” he sort of shrugged.

“Listen, Huck,” Chadwick had taken to calling Henderson “Huck” because apparently all men needed a nickname among brothers.  “This took a LOT of work on my part.  I’m not saying you have to marry her, but if you don’t get to at least second, I will consider you a waste.  Also, I owe Missy a doubles game of tennis now,” John Howard looked horrified at the prospect.  “So, J.H. is gonna have to slip into some tiny white shorts and I’m gonna deal with a ticked off aristocrat.  So have some fun!” Chadwick slapped Henderson’s shoulder in a paternal fashion as he returned to keeping up the fun in the room.  John Howard and Henderson made awkward eye contact for a minute.

“Sorry,” Henderson said sheepishly.

“She’s hot,” J.H. appraised.  “Dad’s not worth too much, but he does have some great boats.  Might as well make the most of it.”  He tipped his glass up to Henderson who met it solidly, producing a harsh click in the room.

“Here’s to J.H.!” Rip was attempting to make a toast, seemingly recovered from his drunken daze.  

“To J.H.-John Howard!”  Henderson polished off his drink and happily accepted a refill.  Without John Howard he never would have gotten a job at Hemplebaum, he’d never been sitting in this room, drinking liquor that cost more than a cable bill, planning on making an offer on a home in Chester, and planning on how to get into Kitty Bell’s dress tonight.  Cheers to J.H. indeed.

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 4 - Attention

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, OC x reader

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3

Summary: Y/N and George try to figure out what the Yule Ball changed in their relationship; life gets back to normal and goes on, Y/N is a confused teenager™ and has a hard time sorting her shit out

Word count: 6897

warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual themes, mentions of alcohol, canon character death

a/n: It’s a wild ride and honestly I don’t know what else to say about it. I hope I left as little mistakes as possible, it’s long. The next part will be the last, my dears. Also, I’m not sure if drinking lemon balm tea is a thing outside of where I’m from so I’m sorry if you got confused 😅 - I drink it and I like it.

Walking up the curved steps you felt his tingling gaze, you held your breath in, until you were out of sight, and you seemed to shake more with each step you took. The door handle to your room felt colder than ever. You stepped into the room where Hermione was getting ready for a shower, picking up her cosmetics, you felt dazed as if you just stepped out of a fairy tale and you didn’t know how to function in the normal world anymore. So you closed the door behind you, your friend stopping in her tracks, trying to read you. You took a deep breath, leaning your back against the door and looked into her eyes – and that anchored you. Tonight really did happen, in the real world. Your face broke into a huge smile and you didn’t have to say anything, you just squealed and charged at her – both of you jumping grinning like fools, squeezing each other tight. 

“I need to calm down, take a shower and just lay down” you started rambling after you let go of her “otherwise I’ll never fall asleep. Oh, I hope I can fall asleep normally, we both know I’m as good as dead if I don’t get enough sleep- “ you went on as you started picking up your own toiletries, kicking off your shoes in the meantime, while Hermione waited for you, chuckling at how dramatic you were. She was glad to be distracted from her own whirlwind of thoughts after that evening.

The following morning you woke up, debating whether getting up at all, was a good idea. But your rumbling stomach won. You washed up and stood in front of the mirror in your room, wondering what to wear. Why would choosing an outfit be too difficult? It was a normal morning after all.  – a skirt with a button-up? no, that’s trying hard… - I mean, you never cared about how you looked- or wait, scratch that. You never questioned your judgement or had much trouble with it – maybe just some sweats? ugh, but then people would start assuming you’re in a bad mood, or hungover… - looking good just came naturally to you and you weren’t a try-hard, as you kept telling yourself.  So you put on a pair of fitting jeans with a sweater and put your hair up in a high ponytail. It’s just a normal morning.

You knew Hermione left before you and you didn’t see Harry or Ron in the common room, so you stepped through the heavy wooden door leading to the great hall, alone. If your wardrobe this morning didn’t confuse you enough, now you faced another dilemma. How did you usually choose a place to sit? Why was existing and decision making so difficult that morning? Surely, you didn’t get enough sleep. That was it.

Still deep in your thoughts, your feet were awkwardly following along the Gryffindor table. I mean, normally, when you weren’t already with your friends, you would just take any empty spot. Today should be the same. Your seat at the breakfast table shouldn’t be a statement, yeah?

“Hey, Y/N,” said Hermione, shifting a bit closer to Harry, so you could sit by her other side. You didn’t realize you had walked up to them. “Hi,” you said, slowly taking your spot and unsuspiciously scanning the perimeter. “-everyone..” you added when you met George’s eyes as he was bringing a coffee mug up to his lips, smiling to you. You broke the eye contact to pick some food and get on with your breakfast and just missed how he hit his teeth with the mug, spilling a bit of the liquid and earning a snort from Fred.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— January, 1995

“-have you ever noticed that?” said George staring dreamily at your confident smirk after you probably made some cheeky comment, sitting with your friends by the fire on the other side of the common room. “No, can’t say I have,” answered Fred in a bored tone with his cheek resting on his palm and elbows on the table, until he got a punch to the side. “Ugh, what do you want me to do?” he said wincing a bit and rubbing the sore spot as his twin glared at him, feeling betrayed. “-you’re absolutely smitten with her since the ball and it’s getting boring. Get over yourself!” “Could you be any louder?!” George whisper-yelled “ -wait no, don’t answer that” he quickly followed, holding his hands up as he knew the look in his brother’s eye well. “Look, all I’m saying is – that’s still Y/N we’re talking about. And this- “ Fred gestured widely at George’s position “-isn’t helping you.”

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

Much too soon for most of the students, the new term came along. You fell into a routine, very similar to the one from the previous term, only with a few slight changes. You had calmed down a bit when it came to George, who would now, along with Fred, hang out with you from time to time. He also got back to his confident self around you. His new approach was hard to get used to at first, cause it meant frequent compliments, winks, attempts to show off, distracting you when you tried to study in the common room and those damned, so hard to resist smiles you always had to return.

January was coming to an end and you were eating lunch with Hermione, boys not with you, brainstorming about the clue Harry got after opening his egg. As you stopped reaching new conclusions, the conversation topic shifted and you recalled how you got involved in one of the twins’ pranks. “-then I just told him how I was going to tutor George and Fred that afternoon and threw in a couple of insults, saying how insufferably dull they are etc, to appeal to him and avoid further questioning,” you explained how you covered for them with Snape. You were one of few if not the only, non-Slytherin student he respected didn’t despise. It was probably thanks to a mix of your character and having two older brothers that you knew where to pick your fights and weren’t afraid to swallow your pride if it ultimately meant benefits. It came very useful with Snape.

“-all that was left was for George and Fred to put some finishing touches and voila.” You said munching proudly. “George and Fred?..” asked Ginny, confused, leaning out from behind Hermione, reminding you she was there the whole time. “Yeah, I mean, it was their plan, so-“ “No, no- George and Fred?” she continued and looked at Hermione who was just as confused as you. “I mean- it’s always Fred and George.” she said looking between you two “it sounds weird the other way around” she got back to her food, “no one says that..” but she didn’t push further as Hermione was biting onto her bottom lip trying to keep a straight face and you put your fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore and -so- weirdly warm.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

February, 1995

You’ve been distracted from worrying about your schoolwork and figuring out how to help Harry with his second task, by the arrival of Valentine’s Day. After putting a bit more effort into your appearance you headed to the Great Hall for breakfast feeling excited, although just a tiny bit conflicted. You were on your way to your friends, walking between the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, where your eyes found Matt who shot you a sly wink that made you bite your lip before he turned back to his friends. You never got to really celebrate Valentine’s before, but now you were sure he had something prepared for you. Your mind was taken off of it as you chattered with your friends over breakfast and then headed to your morning classes. As your Transfiguration class was about to start, you opened your bag to reach for your books, but you were surprised. On top of your books was a note, tied to a colourful box you knew well. You looked around the class and took your spot, taking out your things to avoid McGonagall’s attention. Trying to keep a poker face you opened the note:

You look beautiful, as always. Got your favourite Fizzing Whizbees because you ate like a ton at the ball, Secret Admirer

You read and in your attempts to stay quiet you made a tiny squeal mixed with a giggle, which caused confused Ron to turn around and you tried to mask it with a cough. You repeated the words a few times in your head. George thought you were beautiful.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

About a week later, it was a fine afternoon for Fred and George. They sweet-talked their way out of detention with Professor Sprout after borrowing an ingredient from one of the greenhouses and were currently on a quest for dinner, walking through one of the quiet corridors surrounding the courtyard near Transfiguration.

George thought the day was going brilliantly and his mood was great until he saw something in the corner of his eye and subconsciously turned his head slightly in that direction. Some couple snogging against a wall, not an extraordinary sight in an otherwise empty corridor. He was about to shrug it off, but then it hit him like a train – his feet got nailed to the ground, blood was draining his body and his smile quickly fell. You were the girl. Fred noticed him stop and followed his gaze. “Who’s the git?” He said with a disgusted expression. George didn’t know, but he recognised him as the Hufflepuff you danced with at the ball, whose hands were now roaming all over your body. “Come on, now.” Fred didn’t know what to say to his brother but he knew watching wouldn’t do him much good, so he grabbed his shoulder and headed to the Great Hall once more. Approaching Ron, Harry and Hermione, Fred tried to think of a way to loosen their tongues about the Hufflepuff git without showing that he or George cared. “-that’s why we’ll ask Y/N what she thinks, you know she’s better at it..” said Hermione and Fred’s opportunity came “Just saw her with her boyfriend, she looked busy..” he said lazily flipping his legs over the bench and George followed. “Boyfriend?” Harry questioned as all three of them looked over confused “Nearly sucked his face off-“ he said earning a kick in the shin under the table from George. “Who is he anyway?” “Hufflepuff, tall, dark hair..?” asked Hermione and Fred nodded still determined not to show too much emotion. “Aah, Matt?” said Ron with his mouth full and a bit of his food fell out, earning Fred’s disgusted look. “Matthew Aston. He’s in our year. But they’re not dating. He’s not her boyfriend.” said Hermione shortly, looking down at her plate. “So keeping it casual then, huh..?” Fred raised his eyebrows slightly and slowly nodded. “It started around the start of the semester, weird you haven’t noticed.” said Harry shrugging slightly “Yeah, he hangs out with us sometimes, he’s alright.” added Ron. When you arrived at the table you decided not to ask about everybody being weirdly quiet but made a mental note to bring it up later.

That evening, after they told you, you took a long bath in an attempt to sort out your thoughts. It was all true. Matt didn’t like seeing you with George at the ball (or at all, frankly), so not long after, he made a move you couldn’t resist. And being with him was comfortable. He knew you well, was attractive and so very into you, eager to please. And it was all good, but not enough for you to commit. You kept thinking that maybe one day you will, but you refused to call him your boyfriend. If that wasn’t confusing enough, then there was George. He felt right, and he felt real in a way you couldn’t describe. That only made you all the more careful with him. You’ve never felt that way towards anyone so you preferred to sit back and wait where it takes you. But you couldn’t help but feel guilty. While you felt a bit stiffer around George in the next few days, he slowly came around. He still didn’t like the idea of anybody else being close to you in that way, even if not officially in a relationship, but from his interactions with you, he concluded all was not yet lost. And for now, he found an outlet for his negative emotions in subtle glares whenever he saw Matt around the school.  

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

As the second task of the Tournament was getting closer, it occupied your mind. Lunchtimes, afternoons and evenings spent in the library to no avail, you were getting more desperate in finding a solution for surviving an hour underwater. You had less and less time, and now you found yourself watching the last sunset through the library window, before the day of the task. You had secretly given up on finding anything in those books, Ron did not hide it anymore and Hermione felt insulted as the library had never failed her before. “Oh this is no use,” Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. “Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?” “I wouldn’t mind,” said Fred Weasley’s voice. “Be a talking point, wouldn’t it?” The four of you looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves. “What’re you two doing here?” Ron asked. “Looking for you,” said George, which perked up your curiosity “McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione.” “Why?” said Hermione, looking surprised. “Hang on, why those two?” You narrowed your eyes. You got why she could’ve excluded Harry, but if she took Hermione and Ron, you’d expect her to ask for you too. “Dunno… she was looking a bit grim, though,” said Fred. “We’re supposed to take you down to her office,” said George. Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, and you shared a concerned look with him. “We’ll meet you back in the common room,” Hermione told you two as she got up to go with Ron — both of them looked very anxious. “Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?” “Right,” said harry uneasily and you just nodded. You and Harry stayed in the library a bit longer, until Madam Pince kicked you out, then made your way to the Gryffindor tower with a stack of tomes each. You waited and waited, but Ron and Hermione never came back, and so around midnight, you excused yourself to go to bed, advising Harry to do the same. The next morning you missed Harry at breakfast and headed out with the crowd to watch the second task, hoping he was already getting ready. It felt weird not having Hermione or Ron beside you on the way to the lake. By the boats, you were looking for any familiar faces to group with, when you heard two well-known voices behind you, taking bets. You walked in their direction waving, hoping they’d notice your small figure amongst the crowd. “Hello, sunshine!” George beamed at you, slamming the suitcase shut. “A beautiful morning, innit?” added Fred, as you scooted closer to them and away from the moving crowd. “The sky is literally grey,” you said looking up but he just waved his hand and rolled his eyes, mouthing ‘details’. “Shall we get a boat?” you looked at the water and back at them “or are you staying here?” “Yeah we’re coming,” said George before Fred could speak up. After George helped you out of the boat the three of you headed towards the seats higher up, where you spotted Lee. You walked up the stairs to see a few black-and-yellow scarves in the seats towards the back. “Hi, Y/N/N,” said Matt with a single wave, making Eric’s head shot up with a grin “Heey, Y/N!” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that George’s head was still turned towards you when Fred took his seat next to Lee. “Hi,” you said with a smile and a little wave, then turned to Fred and Lee and took a seat with George. After the had jumped into the water and out of sight, you decided to make yourself comfortable – you took out a blanket and some snacks you prepared in the morning. The boys had noticed as you picked up the blanket to unfold it and laughed a little “Getting cosy, huh?” Fred said with an amused grin. “We’re gonna be here for an hour and it’s not like there’s anything to watch, really” you pointed at the water surface “might as well.” You brought your legs up and sat cross-legged and given how close you were sat, your knee rested on one of George’s legs. “does that bother you?” “No, it’s alright,” George thought it was cute, really, how you were getting comfy and covered your legs, but above all, he didn’t mind that bit of physical contact. “What- you’re not gonna share?” he acted appalled and looked at your blanket, then back at you. You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile, then unfolded the blanket fully, covered his legs, earning a grin, and even threw it over Fred and Lee’s too. You picked up a bag of snacks and the four of you spent the remaining time chatting, playing some exploding snap, and you even managed to pull them into exchanging some gossip.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— March, 1995

After the second task, the three of your friends were in the spotlight, which sort of affected your life, too. But the real problem was the pile of work you ignored while helping Harry prepare. That’s how you found yourself, early Saturday afternoon, at one of the smaller tables in the common room with your notes and various books in front of you as the sun rays were shyly poking through the window, asking for attention before spring officially started.

You had been sitting there for some time now and felt like you should probably take a break as the information was becoming harder to understand and took longer to assimilate. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to pause, with still so much to go over and you tried not to panic each time you glanced at the ‘to-do’ pile.

You were leaning on the table and nervously fixed your ponytail, when a mug with steaming, familiar liquid was placed in front of you. You looked up to see George as he leaned back against the table.

“Lemon balm. You drink it often in the evenings.. helps with anxiety, right?” he said with a small smile as you stared at him in shock. “Yeah- yeah I do..” You looked down at the tea again. “Is that for me?” you asked, just to make sure, but George just shook his head in disbelief and laughed softly, which you took as a yes. “thank you, then” you took a sip. “Can I join you?” “Yeah, sure, of course”

He mentally high-fived himself. He saw you earlier, slouching over the books with a worried expression and realized he wouldn’t be able to just enjoy the rest of his Saturday if he didn’t do anything about it. Tearing you away from your work was out of the question – you were no Hermione but you had a sense of responsibility, so if you had to study, you would study. 

His best bet was to make it easier for you. You were often found doing homework in study groups and you found working around others to be motivating, even if you were doing completely separate things. He had a bit of trouble deciding if revealing he knows your favourite herbal tea was cute or creepy but he took his chances. When you thought about it that evening in the shower you didn’t believe he was actually studying, but he pretended to, and it worked.

It made your heart flutter, thinking of how caring George was. He seemed to genuinely care, and you couldn’t help but want more of it. You loved the idea of him caring about you. Over the last few months you were almost positive he had -some- feelings for you, and you did too. But after that act, you realized, you started falling. Seriously.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

A week later, you stepped out of the great hall after lunch, headed to the dungeons with Matt, wrapped up in a conversation. “Ugh, he just doesn’t know when to shut up..” he said with hands in his pockets and you chuckled lightly “but I guess quidditch boys just can’t help themselves” he paused, his gaze straight ahead “like the Weasleys.” Oh-ho, if he said that name then he’s definitely in a bad mood. Your expression fell a bit. “They’re just obnoxious, I really don’t know why you keep hanging out with them.” “They’re not always that obnoxious, I know them well. They’re alright” He scoffed. “Alright… but they’re not like us.” You furrowed your eyebrows. Matt has been subtly hinting dislike towards the twins, or George in particular, and suggested you didn’t spend so much time with them before, but it was unlike him to act like an elitist shit. You stopped. “I like them.” “Yeah, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I think you got a bit confused. One of them might be thinking you like him a little too much.” He fake-smiled. You didn’t know what to say, and he looked you straight in the eye now “Cut it out Y/N, I mean it this time. I don’t want you hanging with them anymore.” “Well you don’t have a say in that, do you?!” You knew you hit a weak point. “You know what?! This whole thing was getting boring anyway.” You kept your voice even, as you were fuming inside. “We should end it before you think I like you a little too much. You can go fuck yourself, friend.” You turned around and with shoulders straight and you walked away in quick, long steps. He didn’t go after you.

It wasn’t until you reached the grand staircase that you slowed down a bit and allowed yourself to calm down. With each step, you were more glad you did what you did. When you stepped through the portrait you immediately realized Merlin still had your back. Fred and George, right there at the table. With your mind set, you walked up.

“Hi boys. You busy?” You sat down and they turned their attention to you. “Not really, what is it?” “I just wanted to hang out, I’m in need of a good time.” You said smiling at them both and they shared a look. “Flatterer,” said Fred, flicking his hair. “D’you wanna go outside?” asked George It was quite warm, so you nodded. “I’ll just run up to my room and grab a few things.”

When you came back George was waiting, lounging on the couch and Fred nowhere in sight. When he noticed you he jumped up and beamed at you “After me.”

You walked in comfortable silence for a bit, which you broke only after you left the castle. “Fred not coming with us?” you asked in a non-suspicious tone “Not this time, had something to take care of. Why, disappointed?” he teased you and you bumped his side earning a small laugh. “So, why were you in such a desperate need of a good time?” he tried to start a conversation. You were silent for a bit, thinking things over. “Matt and I had a fight.” you opted for honesty “Oh,” he tried not to sound hopeful. “I ended things with him. “ George raised his eyebrows “Did he do something? I thought you liked him.” “He didn’t do anything. He was okay, but that was it, really. And then he liked me too much.. and that was his problem.” you said looking down at the ground. 

George tried not to be selfish, he was happy you came to him at that moment. He wanted to be there for you and not think too far ahead about how that would benefit him. But something about you saying Matt liked you too much was worrying.

“Not to whine, but I came to you hoping I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore” you looked up at him and brought him out of his thoughts. “Ugh- of course, erm..” he scratched the back of his head “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

You walked along the shore of the lake for a bit and took a turn to walk between some trees and found a steep pathway leading up a bit and back towards the lake. In the end, you found an opening between the thick trees and bushes, its edge a few meters above the edge of the lake. You took in your surroundings and found the spot cosy, you could also see the castle in the distance, though you could’ve sworn you had never seen this place from there.

“Like it?” George asked from behind you, standing with his hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched a bit. You turned around and met his warm eyes, your amazement etched into your expression. “Love it,” you said and immediately cringed a bit. But it warmed his heart to hear that, he hadn’t brought anyone there before.

“Yeah, I like it here.” He said walking up to the edge to look over it. “I don’t think many people know about this place, which makes it even better.” he turned back to you making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. He took a seat on the ground near the edge and patted the spot next to him, which you took.

“Soo.. what do you wanna do?” He asked leaning back on his arms. Your mind went to a few possible options, none of them appropriate. “or we could just talk” he tried to take some pressure off of you. At that moment you remembered something and started looking through your bag. You took a deck of cards out and held them up

“You ever played ‘treachery’?” you smirked and wiggled your eyebrows a bit and he shook his head after a bit of thought. “We face away from each other,” you said as you shifted in your spot and he reluctantly followed. “Lean back.” “Like that?” he said pushing his back onto yours and in result folding you in half, earning half-groan half-laugh from you, before he sat normally. Feeling the warmth of his back on yours and the vibration of his voice made the experience surprisingly intimate. You were so close, but you didn’t see each other’s faces, which made both of you feel a little less self-conscious. You explained the rules of the game to him. He caught up pretty quickly and you played a few rounds before getting bored with it. Then you talked, about everything, and nothing really. 

You sat on the edge with one of your legs dangling over, a wide smile plastered on your face. The early spring sun was slowly setting and your stomach started to remind you it was almost dinner time. Just a few more minutes, you thought to yourself.

On your way back, the steep path proved more difficult and you gladly accepted when George offered you his hand to take. However, when you reached the bottom, neither one of you let go. He slowly intertwined your fingers and the two of you continued to walk in silence along the lake. You had done things that would seem much more intimate before, but nothing felt quite like it. It was exciting and calming at the same time, it felt completely new but so natural and right.

As you approached the castle, the clocktower courtyard in sight and you could see other students walking about, you both, mutually, loosened the grip until you let go.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

April, 1995

Ever since George took you to your spot by the lake, you spent more time with him. He always took a moment to ask about your day and little things when he saw you around the school, and you felt more comfortable to just walk up to him to chat.

April Fools’ or twins’ birthday came on Saturday. You didn’t see them at breakfast and they sat far away during lunch. You still haven’t got the chance to wish him a happy birthday – a simple act you were quite looking forward to, to show that you cared and see his reaction. Mother Nature was being very generous with the weather, the early afternoon was quite warm and sunny and you took that opportunity to set up a blanket for yourself under one of the trees near the training grounds and read a bit.

You don’t turn seventeen every day and Fred and George took it very seriously. That’s why they had just stashed with Lee all the necessary party supplies in the boathouse to celebrate that night and were now headed back to the castle. George saw you lounging on the blanket, he noticed you from afar as if it became his seventh sense. He gazed at you for just a moment, his hands in the pockets of his shorts and felt a jab at his side.

“The fuck was that for?!” he grimaced at his snickering twin. “If you ask me, she looks as if she’s about to run away. You’d better catch her before she realizes you’re coming.” Fred said with fake seriousness, earning an eye-roll. However, George’s mind was too preoccupied for a witty comeback. “I’ll see you.. later.” “Just don’t embarrass me even more!” Fred shouted after him. When he walked up you closed the book on your finger and seeing his bright smile, you couldn’t not smile back.

“Hello,” you said enthusiastically. “Hi” he did a little wave, standing on the edge of your blanket. “Happy birthday” “Thank you,” you put a bookmark in your book and put it away, then sat up. You were silent for a bit and George shifted on his feet. “You’re just gonna stand there?” George’s mind went blank and you saw his shocked face as he opened and closed his mouth a few times “I mean that you can sit down if you want.” “Ooh,” he replied with a slight relief and quickly made himself comfortable on the soft blanket, the two of you now sat cross-legged, facing each other.

“So how is it being a responsible adult?” you asked making him snort “That’s likely.” You giggled, biting on your bottom lip, something George has grown to love. “What’re you reading?” he asked nudging your thigh with his foot lightly. “You really wanna know?” you asked, with a slight doubt, but you were excited to tell him a little bit about your interests. “I really wanna know.” He said, lying down on the blanket and looking up at the tree above. You started with telling him about the book you were currently reading, then you talked about what the two of you generally enjoy reading and then it just continued like it always did with him. 

You quickly found yourself on the blanket next to him, looking up at the leaves swaying with the gentle wind and eventually his hand found yours, tracing patterns on your palm and playing with your fingers absentmindedly.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— May, 1995

You and the three of your friends crept out of your dormitories at daybreak near the end of May. It was really important for you to send an owl to Sirius. You were still debating the events of the previous night, what happened with Victor Krum and Mr Crouch when Hermione shushed you all. You heard footsteps going up to the owlery and two arguing voices.

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “What’re you doing here?” Ron and Fred said at the same time. “Sending a letter,” said Harry and George in unison. “What, at this time?” said Hermione and Fred. At this point, you were looking all over everyone with narrowed eyes. Fred grinned. “Fine — we won’t ask you what you’re doing if you don’t ask us,” he said. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered. “Well, don’t let us hold you up,” Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door. Ron didn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he said. The grin vanished from Fred’s face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron. “Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he said easily. You furrowed your eyebrows and kept listening. “Didn’t sound like that,” said Ron. Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, “I’ve told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can’t see why you would, but —” “It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.” You agreed with it and was concerned about what they got themselves into. “Told you, I was joking,” said George. You felt disappointed. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a prefect.” “No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly. George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron “Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.”

You took one last look at him and it was like looking at a stranger, you’ve never seen his eyes this cold, then he and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, you and Hermione stared at one another.

“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered. “About Crouch and everything?” “No,” said Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell Dumbledore.” Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable. “What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him. “Well…” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re… they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them — when — you know —” “We weren’t talking.” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail…” “It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.” You and Hermione were looking uncomfortable now. “Yes, but… they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.” “Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking sceptical. “I dunno… they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?” You felt slightly sick. “Yeah but not that kind of rules.” “This is the law,” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule… They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you’d better tell Percy…” “And what would that change?” you said. “Are you mad?” said Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” He stared at the window through which Fred and George’s owl had departed, then said, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— June, 1995

After the encounter in the owlery, you barely saw George or talked to him. It was the day of the third task. When you saw that the empty spot left for you was next to George you panicked a bit and felt stiff at first.

When Harry came out of the labyrinth with the Cup, the orchestra started playing and people cheered. But you felt something was wrong and felt a chill down your back – you noticed Harry’s face first and leaned forward to see what was on the ground next to him.

You felt faint and all the noise around you was muted. You stepped back without looking and stumbled a bit but George grabbed you. “He-he's dead…” you whispered still looking at Cedric’s body.

“What?..” George’s expression fell immediately as he brought you a bit closer and looked over the crowd to see for himself. “Ced’s dead..” said facing George. He took you in his arms and you hid your face in his chest, your hands clinging to his shirt tightly. He couldn’t get a word out, just held you tight and placed his chin on top of your head. The moment was interrupted as all the Weasleys started ushering out of the stands, Y/N and Hermione with them. 

The next few days weren’t easy but you came to terms with the reality – Voldemort was back, he killed Cedric Diggory and you were certain the future of you and your friends would be challenging.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

With a few days left before you’d all leave for the summer, you and Hermione decided to enjoy the warm, sunny afternoon and lounged on the grass in one of the courtyards. The exams were done with and you forgot about all the danger for just a day.

You were soaking in the sun, your eyes closed, when suddenly you felt a shadow cast over your face. You opened your eyes to see George crouching beside you.

“Fancy taking a walk?” “Oooh but Hermione and I were having our gal pal time. Weren’t we, Miney?” You said with an exaggerated pout. She chuckled at you. “I think we went over every boy in the school,” she started getting up, “I’ll see you later.” “Bye, bye, girlfriend!” you waved to her and George helped you get off the ground.

“Was there something, in particular, you wanted to talk about?” you asked after you started walking. George bit his lip and looked straight ahead, “There is, but let’s go to the lake.” “Ok,” you said with a small voice, wondering where this was going.

“Were you avoiding me?” He asked once you got to the lake and kept walking along the shore. Were you? – you thought. “Something changed. You didn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t smile like you did before.” He said with genuine hurt in his voice. “I missed that.” he paused for a bit, “was it about the blackmail thing?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“because I didn’t tell you anything?” “Look, I know it was kinda stupid of me. You don’t owe me anything and you don’t have to tell me anything. And I didn’t avoid you.. on purpose.” you stopped and faced the lake, “I guess I just- I kinda hoped you would want to tell me, you know..?”

A few seconds passed and you turned back to see him looking at you. He looked at his shoes and took a deep breath, then held out his hand with a serious expression. You took the few steps towards him and took the hand you missed so much. You started slowly walking again. “Remember when we went to the World Cup?” he started. “Of course.” “And how Fred and I placed that bet?” You hopped up and walked along one of the larger rocks “…Ireland wins but the Bulgarians get the snitch – I remember. Brilliant by the way, I still can’t believe you got it.” you hopped down. George smirked for a second. “Brilliant indeed. You may or may not remember that we asked for our money right after the match ended. Old Ludo wasn’t happy with it, but eventually, he paid up.” you nodded “The catch is, he gave us leprechaun gold.” “Noo... What a dick!” you said in genuine disbelief. “I know,” he replied grimly. “Bagman seemed fishy, I think I heard my dad rant about him once, but that… “ “Yup. We tried getting him to pay up multiple times – nice at first, but he wouldn’t. And now he apparently up and vanished, so it’s over - a lost cause.” You were speechless for a second. “George, I’m so sorry. You gave him all your savings..” you moved even closer to him. “It’s alright.” He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulder, “we’ll just have to work even harder. But we’ll get there. Still got a year left in here.” “That’s right… You know I forget you’re older sometimes. But I’ll still be here for 2 more years after you graduate.” You looked up at the castle across the lake, in the distance. “It’s gonna be weird.” “How? Boring?” he asked, expecting a snarky response. “Yeah” you gave him an honest one instead. “Don’t worry, love, we’ve still got a year.” he squeezed you closer, making you chuckle. “Will you write to me this summer?” He asked. “Only if you write first.” “Have you got any parchment on you?”

With your moods significantly better, you headed to the Great Hall for dinner, the future suddenly not so scary anymore.

Part 5

[kpopaddicted06]

The Neighbour – one shot

Summary: I didn’t knew moving would bring so many changes in my life.

pairing: ATEEZ Wooyoung x reader

genre: highschool au

type: fluff, angst

words: 8k

warnings: mention of - panic attack, anxiety, drugs, gang, violence; school bullying (kind of)

A/N: I hope you’ll like the story; have a wonderful day & thanks for reading it

I just moved in Seoul with my family yesterday. We came to this city because of my dad’s job promotion. He’s now a manager at a financial company here, my mother is working as a chef at a restaurant here too.

It’s saturday, my father is currently at work to meet with his boss and discuss some things before he’ll start working on monday. Me and my mom are at home unboxing our stuff when we hear the doorbell.

 "Baby, can you open the door?" My mom yells from the second floor.

 "Sure!"

 When I open the door I’m greeted by a woman about my mom’s age. Her hair is black and she’s giving me a beautiful smile.

"Hello, sweetheart!"

 "Hello. Can I help you?"

 "I'm your neighbour, Mrs Jung. I just came to welcome you into our neighbourhood and invite your family over tomorrow for dinner, so we can get to know each other." Just when she’s done talking, my mom arrives behind me and answers her.

 "Oh, hello! My name is Mirae and this is my daughter Y/N. We would love to come over for dinner, thank you for the invitation!" My mom smiles sweet at the lady in front of us.

 "Great, I’ll be waiting for you around 7PM."  Mrs. Jung responses delighted.

 "Alright, see you tomorrow!"

 We bid our goodbyes and I close the door.

 "She seems really nice. We’re already making friends here Y/N." My mom is more than happy to make new friends already, since she’s a social butterfly, totally the opposite of me. I'm a shy introvert that becomes anxious around strangers or big crowds.

 It's already sunday afternoon so we’re getting ready for the dinner with our neighbours.

I choose to wear a black blouse and a grey skirt with black boots. I let my hair down and put some light makeup on. After I take a final look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look good, I head down where my parents are already waiting for me.

When we arrive at our neighbours’s house, Mrs. Jung opens the door for us with a smile on her face just like the first time I’ve met her.

 "Welcome! Please enter."

 "Good evening, Mrs Jung." I say smiling back at her.

 "Hi. Thanks again for inviting us. This is my husband, Hyungsik."

 "Hello, it’s nice meeting you." My father says after my mother introduces him.

 "Hello, I'm glad you could make it. My husband and sons are in the living room, that's straight ahead. I have to go back into the kitchen now or I’ll burn the dinner." She laughs a little then leaves through a door on the right.

 In the living room the rest of the Jung family are sitting on a couch. Mr. Jung sees us first and comes to introduce himself, followed by two boys. He then presents us his sons and the older one, Wooyoung, scans me head to toe, then makes eye contact with me with an expressionless face and I can feel how my cheeks are getting warm from the blush, because I don’t like it when someone gives me attention. After a moment he averts his gaze from me.

He’s wearing a red hoodie with black sport pants, his hair is black and a little long, he also got a lot of piercings and rings. He looks really handsome and seems to be around my age.

 We all wait in the living room for Mrs. Jung to finish the dinner, while my parents are discussing about their jobs with Mr. Jung. Wooyoung is on his phone sending messages to someone and from time to time I can see a little smile on his face. His younger brother is watching a show on TV and I'm thinking about how would be at my new school tomorrow. I hope someone will approach me first and I’ll make a new friend, because I’m very shy around people, especially strangers.

 "Dinner’s ready! Please come and take a seat at the table." Mrs. Jung announces us happy.

 At the table my mom sits to my left and Wooyoung is at my right.

Mrs. Jung prepared a feast for this dinner. The food looks and smells so good so we start to eat right away.

The dinner goes without any big events taking place, except Wooyoung's little brother making a fuss that he wants to eat while playing games on his phone, but his mother scolded him saying it’s not nice to play while eating, especially when guests are over.

After having the dessert, we head back in the living room to continue the chat.

 "So, Wooyoung, how old are you?" My mom asks him.

Everyone turns their attention to Wooyoung, who didn't pay any attention to us the whole night and continued sending messages on his phone. He locks his phone and looks at my mother now.

 "I'm 17 years old."

 "Oh, you’re one year older than Y/N then. That's great, I hope you can become good friends then. You see, she's very shy and it’s hard for her to make friends." Wooyoung looks at me for a second and sees that I’m embarrassed because of what my mother said.

 "What school do you go to, Y/N?" Mrs. Jung asks me.

 "I go to The High-School of Arts."

 "That's where Wooyoung goes too. Then you can go together tomorrow morning and he can show you around and help you." His mother's suggestion makes Wooyoung click his tongue in annoyance but doesn't say anything.

 "That’s not necessary, but thank you. I can manage by myself, plus he may be busy and I don't want to bother him with this." I say hoping she will drop the subject.

 "That's nonsense. He isn't busy and has enough time. Right, Wooyoung?"

 "I will give you a ride tomorrow and help you out." He says without looking at me.

 "See, I told you he'll help you."

 "Thank you..." I say shyly in his direction but he doesn't acknowledge me.

 After a little while, I announce that I’ll head back home to prepare my stuff for tomorrow.  

 "I will head home first to get ready for my first day at school tomorrow. Thank you for inviting us over for dinner, I had a great time."

 "You want to leave already? Wait until I take my purse, I think I left it in the kitchen earlier."

 "No, mom, you don't need to come. I will go back first, you can enjoy the rest of the night."

 "Then let Wooyoung accompany you back." His dad suggests.

 "It’s not necessary..."

 While I was speaking Wooyoung got up from the couch.

 "Let's go." He says and starts leaving already.

I quickly go after him while saying a "Good night." to his family at the same time.

He opens the door for me and I thank him.

The walk is only a few minutes but it’s awkward as neither of us talks.

He opens his mouth to say something only when we are in front of my house’s door.

 "We’re leaving at 7:20 AM, so be ready by then."

 "Ok. Thanks for coming with me and driving me tomorrow too, but you don't have to help me at school, I’ll manage by myself." I say smiling a bit while he has his cold gaze on me. He doesn't say anything, just turns around and leaves.

 The next morning I wake up at 6:00 AM to make sure I have enough time to get ready so I won’t make Wooyoung wait after me.

I take a shower and then get dressed in my new uniform for school. The uniform consists of a white blouse, a grey skirt and a black jacket. I pun on some black shoes to go along with it and apply a natural makeup. I tie my hair in a ponytail and finish my look with a pair of earrings and a necklace to complete my look. I take a look at the clock too see it’s 7:15 AM.

When I get out of the house, Wooyoung is already waiting for me. He’s leaning against his black car looking down at his phone screen. He doesn't seem to notice my presence yet so I take a better look at him. He’s wearing his uniform, a white shirt with a black tie, black pants and a black jacket. His hair is parted in the middle, it’s a wet hair style that really suits him. He’s also wearing a lot of earrings and rings just like last night. When I move my attention to his face I observe he’s looking at me with a smirk on and a raised eyebrow. He caught me staring at him.

 "Let's go if you’re done checking me out."

 I widen my eyes at his words and I can feel the blood rushing to my face already, making me blush. I only nod in response.

 He goes to passager’s side and opens the door for me. I get in saying a "thanks" and avoiding his gaze, still embarrassed.

When he gets in the car too, we put on our seat belts and he starts driving. Soft music is playing through the radio.

"We have to take three of my friends with us. They can be very loud so I'm sorry if they make you feel uncomfortable."

 "It's ok." I say even if I'm already feeling a little anxious to meet new people.

 We stop the car in front of a big house and I see three boys coming out. They are laughing loud enough to hear it from the car. When they spot me inside the car, a confused expression takes place on their faces. They get in the back seat and look at me then at Wooyoung, waiting probably for him to introduce me.

 "She's my new neighbour, she’s going to our school too. Her name is Y/N. My mother asked me to drive her."

 They all look at me smiling and say "Hi!" in unison.

 "My name is San, pretty." The guy in the middle with black hair says and gives me a wink that makes me blush. He smiles at my blushing face and I can see a cute pair of dimples showing.

 "Please ignore him, Y/N. That's how he is with everyone." The boy on San’s left says with an eye roll and San pouts at his statement. "My name is Yeosang." His hair is blonde and he has a mullet.

 "My name is Jongho." The last one says with a polite smile.

 "It’s nice too meet you all."

 After that Wooyoung starts driving again so we won't be late. After a minute or so, San starts speaking again.

 "Y/N are you in our class?"

 "No, I'm a year younger than you guys."

 "She's in Jongho’s class." Wooyoung says without moving his eyes from the road.

 "Oh, I can help you with our classes then, and I will give you my notes so you know where we are currently with our lectures and catch up." Jongho tells me excited, probably because he found out we are the same age.

 "That would be great, thank you so much." I smile back at him. I thought I will fell anxious with so many strangers but they are really friendly so I feel kinda comfortable with them.

Jongho is telling me about how are the teachers for the rest of the ride and some other school related things.

 When we arrive at school, Wooyoung parks his car next to another black one, where four boys are standing beside it. When we get out, they came to greet the boys from our car. When they land their eyes on me, San starts talking first.

 "She's Wooyoung’s new neighbour, Y/N. She's in the same class as Jongho."

 "Hello. My name is Seonghwa." He's taller than the others boys I was in the car with, his hair is blonde and he has a kind smile. "I'm two years older than you, so is Hongjoong." He gestures to his right to a guy with blue hair. He has even more piercings than Wooyoung and is wearing a lot of other accessories.

 "Nice meeting you." He says with a polite smile like Jongho did.

 "I'm Yunho, it’s nice to meet you." He looks like a cute puppy with bright eyes. His hair is blonde with some pink strands too. He's the tallest among all of them.

 "I'm Mingi." A boy with almost the same height as Yunho says. His hair is a light shade of brown and he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses. He has a cute smile.

 "Yunho and Mingi are the same age as me." San adds.

 "It’s nice meeting you all!" I say with a big smile. They all seem like nice people and unexpectedly I don’t feel anxious around them, considering we just met.

I didn't expect that I will meet so many people on my first day. Wooyoung seems to be a social butterfly, and all his friends are really good looking, just like him.

 "Let's go to our classes or we’ll be late, and I'm sure Y/N doesn't want that on her first day." Hongjoong says gesturing for Jongho to lead the way for me.

 We all part ways and leave to our classes.

 "I will come with you guys." Wooyoung says taking the lead.

 Me and Jongho follow him and after we’re in front of our class Jongho goes straight inside. When I try to enter too, Wooyoung stops me by grabbing my wrist.

 "I will give you a ride back too after we finish classes. Just wait for me beside my car." He then leaves, not waiting for my response. I look after him a little then go inside the class where I take a seat next to Jongho.

 All the classes are a bit boring, but Jongho is making small comments during them, funny ones, and also helps me catch up so I feel a little better about them.

It’s lunch time. Jongho and I are seated at a table in the middle. He said it’s their group’s table. When I sit down I see the people in the cafeteria looking with confusion in my direction.

 "Jongho?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Why are they all looking at me?"

Jongho opens his mouth to answer but a voice behind me beats him first.

 "Maybe because it’s the first time when another person besides us eight sits at our table." San says smiling at me and taking the free seat on my left.

 "Oh... and why is that?"

 "Well you see, we don't really have other friends beside each other." He chuckles a little and scratches the back of his neck.

 "Why?" His answers only leaves me more confused. Yeosang replies to my question as he sees San is not helpful.

 "Because they all think we are some kind of gang or something like that. But that’s not true. They’re all just rumors."

 "Ok, but you had to do something for that rumor to go around." I say a little surprised to hear that, because they seem like good guys. I see them exchanging a strange look between themselves before Seonghwa answers me.

 "Well, we actually got in some trouble one night at a club, it ended up with us fighting some other guys. We got in some trouble at school too, because we used to skip a lot of classes last year and had some little fights too. We were friends with some kids that graduated last year, and because of them we ended up doing all that. They kind of had a bad influence on us but now we are trying to study hard, avoid problems and we have a full attendance too. Unfortunately the rumors don't die that easily."

 "Oh... Well you are doing great then, because I would have never thought you did all that if you wouldn't have confessed." I say a little lost in thoughts, trying to process all of this.

 "Are you going to leave us too after what you heard?" San asks searching for an answer on my face.

 "Why would I? You clearly changed and I'm sure you weren't that bad last year as you make it sound." I say with a little shy smile as all of them are looking at me. My guts tell me they’re good guys, even if I only met them today, because they didn't make me feel anxious being around them. I find it easy to talk with them, which is unusual for me to do with new people.

 "If you still want to be friends with us don't expect other people to talk to you." Yeosang tells me.

 "I'm good with being friends only with you guys. I never had a lot of friends anyway, so I won't lose anything." I say sincerely.

"By the way, where are Wooyoung and Mingi?” I see all of them tense a little at my question.

 "They had something to do. Let's finish our lunch." Hongjoong says with a dark face, so I don't continue the subject anymore as I don't want to get in their business.

 It’s already the time to go home and Seonghwa, Yunho, San, Yeosang and Jongho left with Seonghwa’s car. Hongjoong left one hour earlier. The boys told me he had some problems to solve. I'm beside Wooyoung’s car, waiting for him as he told me to do this morning.

 As I wait for him to come I start thinking about how today was a pretty good first day. Thanks to Wooyoung I made a lot of friends. I never had such a large group of friends.

 After a little while I hear Wooyoung and Mingi talking so I look in their direction. Mingi waves at me as a goodbye and leaves.

 "Did you wait much?" Wooyoung ask as he unlocks his car and opens the door for me.

 "Just a few minutes."

 He nods his head and gets in the car too. The drive is quiet but I don't feel awkward in Wooyoung’s presence this time. When we are at a stop he turns to look at me.

 "So, how was the first day?"

 "Pretty good. The teachers were boring but I had fun thanks to your friends, so thank you for introducing us." I say shyly a little as he keeps his eyes on me.

 "I'm glad you get along." He says and then turns his head and keeps driving.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence, none of us saying anything anymore.

 "Thanks for driving me today, Wooyoung."

 "I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 7:20 AM."

 "You will drive me again? I don't want to be a burden."

 "I will drive you everyday. It’s not a problem for me, plus we’re going to the same destination." He says without letting room for any arguments.

 "Ok.. Thank you. Bye Wooyoung."

 "Bye, Y/N."

 The next two weeks Wooyoung drives me and his friends to school everyday. We got closer and it’s fun hanging out with them. I’m starting to like it a lot here.

 This morning there’s only us on the way to school as he told me his friends are going with their own cars today and Jongho is going with San, because he doesn't have the age to drive yet.

 Today the boys seem to be in a bad mood when I meet them at school and I don't know why. When I tried to ask Jongho, he said it’s nothing and to not worry about them.

 I'm on my way to the classroom when I hear Wooyoung calling my name, so I stop and turn around to face him.

 "I can't drive you back today. All of us will leave earlier since we have to go somewhere."

 "Are you starting to skip your classes again like last year?" I ask in hope they don't pick up their bad habits from last year.

 "No. We just have something to solve." He is a little frustrated by my question.

 "What?"

 "That's none of your business Y/N." He says narrowing his eyes at me and in a dark tone.

 "O-oh... Sorry for asking." I turn around and leave fast. Now I can see why the others might be scared of them. Wooyoung looked pretty intimidating just now as he got mad. This is the first time I see him look so dark and I didn't like it.

I spend the rest of the day alone as they all left. When I hear the ring, I pack my things and get ready to go home.

Right before I try to leave, some girls gather at my desk and stop me from doing so.

 "Do you need something?" I ask biting my lower lip as I'm becoming overwhelmed by their presence.

 "How did you became friends with the boys?”

 "I'm Wooyoung’s neighbour and he introduced us."

 "So are you close with Wooyoung?"

 I’m thinking what I should respond her when it hits me, she probably wants something from me.

 "What do you want?"

 "I want Wooyoung’s phone number." She says restively.

 "Then ask him for it." I say quickly as I can feel by heart starting to beat faster than it should. I can feel my breath getting a little irregular too.

 "He refused already, but I won't give up. So you have to give it to me." Her voice is irritated.

 "I can't do that, if he didn't wanted to give it to you then he doesn't want to talk to you. Sorry but I need to leave now." I say and I start running past them to the bathroom. When I enter I take a deep breath and try to calm down. After that I leave to the bus station.

 When I arrive home I feel a little tired so I take a nap before I start working on my homework.

 The next day Wooyoung isn't waiting for me to go to school together. Maybe he’s mad at me..

 When I arrive at school, Jongho is nowhere to be found, he didn’t attend any of the classes today.

I write a message in our group chat to see if something happened but nobody answers me... They still don't answer for the rest of the weekend and I start thinking if maybe something happened to them or I if I did something wrong so they’re ignoring me on purpose. They don't answer any of my calls either.

 I ask my mother if she met Mrs. Jung and if she saw Wooyoung. She tells me that Wooyoung is staying at one of his friends for the weekend. Something is telling me that this might not be the whole truth. Something feels off and I have to find out what is it.

 On monday, Wooyoung is waiting for me in the morning to give me the usual ride to school like he didn’t just ghosted me the whole weekend.

 "What happened? None of you answered me and I was worried. Are you ok?" I ask concerned.

 "We are fine. You didn't have to worry about us. We just had a full weekend, that's why we didn't answer. Now let's get going or we’ll be late."

 "You could have at least tell me you’re alive..." I say pouting and looking at the ground.

 I feel a hand ruffling my hair and I look up meeting Wooyoung eyes.

 "I'm sorry. I will answer you next time. Don't be upset Y/N." He says smiling at me. It’s the first time I see such a big smile on him, and that made me smile too.

 "I'm glad you’re smiling now. You’re more beautiful when you’re smiling rather than pouting." He says with a look that I don't really understand what it is.

I try to avoid his eyes and pass through him to enter the car trying to hide my blushing face and I think I hear him saying "It makes me want to make you happy." My heart skips a beat at that.

For the entire car ride to school none of us speaks. Unfortunately we were alone today as San drived Yeosang and Jongho.

 At school all of them come and apologise for making me worry about them and we get back to our normal routine.

 I go to my third class without Jongho, because it’s an optional class I choosed.  After that is over, I go to meet with the boys for lunch. On the hallway I hear a voice calling my name, and when I turn to see who’s calling me, I see the girl that wanted Wooyoung’s phone number coming my way.

 "I don't like it when people run away in the middle of a conversation." She says annoyed.

 "Sorry... I needed to be somewhere."

 "I don't care." She rolls her eyes at me. "Now give me the number while I'm asking nice."

 "I still can't do that..."

 "Then arrange me a meeting with him."

 "Why don't you go and talk with him yourself? He's in the cafeteria now."

 "Good plan. I will tell him you invited me for lunch with them. That will be my chance to ask him out."

 "That’s not what I meant. I was just saying you can go and say whatever you want directly to him, not me."

 "I like my plan better. Now let's go."

 She grabs my arm and drags me in the direction of the cafeteria. She doesn't let go of me until we are at the table where the boys were chatting. When they spot us both, they look at me, ignoring the girl beside me, the one I don't even now the name of..

 "Boys this is..." I trail off looking at her to say her name.

 "I'm Yuri, but I'm sure you already knew that." She says smiling at Wooyoung. They still look at me, not Yuri, so I speak again.

 "She's here to eat with us..." I say a little uncomfortable and the boys notice that.

 "We don't have enough space for another person. You can leave." Yeosang answers irritated by her presence.

 "But you still have an empty space." She says sitting down, next to Wooyoung.

 Wooyoung looks for the first time at Yuri and speaks.

 "That's Y/N’s chair. Now get up." I could sense the anger in his voice.

 "Why would I? She can find another place to sit. I want to stay beside you." She flutters her lashes at him trying to look innocent.

 All the boys are now looking with disgust at her.

 "Leave already. Don't you get it that we don't want you here?" Mingi snaps at her.

 "Hey! Let's all calm down. I will just take another chair." I say fast before they get angry, because I don't want to see that. But before I can manage to take another chair Wooyoung gets up and takes Yuri by her arm to make her stand up from her seat.

 "What are you doing? Let go of me!" She says a little scared of him and the dark look he’s giving her. He doesn't listen to her and makes her get up and pushes her a little to the side away from the table. Then he takes my hand gently and makes me sit down instead.

 "Let's eat now." He says like nothing happened and all the boys start eating. Wooyoung puts his tray with food between us and motions with his head for me to eat. I can hear Yuri scoffing from behind.

 "Why would you want her instead of me? I don't understand. She's ugly and doesn't even talk much. She's dumb and..." But she doesn't get to speak more because Wooyoung rushes up and heads towards her. Seonghwa and San get up quickly too and try to stop Wooyoung from doing anything reckless. I also get up surprised.

 "Say something bad about Y/N ever again and I will make your life a living hell." Wooyoung growls at her. I never heard that tone from him. His voice made me shiver.

 "I suggest you to leave before you regret messing with one of us." San speaks this time and if looks could kill, Yuri would be six feet under.

 "But-" Yuri tries again but she's cut off by Seonghwa this time.

 "Leave or I will take you out personally and you won't like that." He says in a cold tone and I can see the fear growing on Yuri’s face. She gulps and leaves in a hurry.

 I look around us and all the students are staring at us. I feel my heart rate going up quickly so I run out of the cafeteria. I can hear the boys calling after me with concern in their voices.

 I run on the hallway but I don't make it far as I lose my balance and almost fall, but a pair of arms wrap around my waist catching me before I hit the ground. When I look up I see Wooyoung’s concerned gaze on me.

 "What happened? Are you alright?"

 "I just need some air..." I say softly hiding my face in his chest as I don't want to see anyone right now.

 He takes me out by the back door of the school. The rest of the boys come quickly too, having concerned looks on their faces. After a few minutes when I start to feel better, I decide to tell them what’s actually going on.

 "I have anxiety... That's why I ran outside the cafeteria. It was too much for me..."

 "You should have told us that earlier, Y/N." Seonghwa says.

 "Yes, we would have tried to avoid that kind of situation if we knew." Wooyoung tells me a little disappointed.

 "I'm sorry..." I murmur looking down.

 "It's ok. We know now, so we will take care of you. You don't need to apologise for something like this, Y/N, you did nothing wrong." Hongjoong tells me softly.

 "Thank you for helping me and for understanding." I say with a little smile on my face.

 After our classes are done, I say my goodbyes to the boys and I head back home with Wooyoung.

 The next few days the boys constantly made sure that I was feeling ok and took care of me. Wooyoung wouldn't leave me alone any second, so he would walk me to all of my classes, even though Jongho was already with me.

I’m really grateful for having such good friends. I’m truly happy for meeting them.

 On friday night we all gather at Seonghwa’s place for a movie night, since his parents are leaving the town for the weekend.

 I’m staying between Wooyoung and San on the couch, and we watch ‘Frozen 2’ at Mingi’s request. He said the first one was really good and needs to see the second part too, so we all agreed when he started whining.

I’m feeling a little tired, since last night I had trouble sleeping, so I start dozing off in the middle of the movie. My head falls on Wooyoung’s shoulder. He sees I’m asleep and tells the boys to keep quiet not to wake me up, then makes sure to cover me with a blanket and that I’m in a comfortable position.

 I wake up feeling a little bit too warm, so I try to remove the blanket from me when I feel a hand is placed on my waist. I look behind me and I realise it’s Wooyoung’s hand. We are still on the couch at Seonghwa’s place. I try to remove his hand and get up without waking him too, but he only tightens his grip on me and comes closer. I could feel his soft breath on my neck as he nuzzled his nose in my hair.

I instantly start to blush and my heart starts beating like crazy.

I try to get up again but he wakes up this time, still not letting me go from his grip.

 "What time is it?" He asks with his raspy morning voice, causing me to get shivers down my spine as he’s still breathing on my neck.

 "I d-don't know..." I curse in my head at my stuttering. "We should get up, we’re still at Seonghwa’s place..."

 "Five more minutes." He says getting even closer to me, not leaving any space between ourselves anymore.

I gulp and attempt to calm down my heart. I won't be surprised if he can feel it too considering how close we are to each other right now.

After a moment I hear a ‘click’ from a phone, announcing a picture being taken and I look up to see Seonghwa doing just that.

 "Hey! Delete that!"

 "Not a chance. You both look so adorable. I’ll send it in our group chat for the others to see it too."

 "Noooo!! Seonghwa please!" I start whining at him.

 "Too late, Y/N." He says laughing at my pouting face.

 "You are mean." I say narrowing my eyes at him.

 "Seonghwa don't upset her or I’ll kill you." Wooyoung says from behind me with a threatening voice.

 "Easy tiger, I was just teasing her. I have to be careful around you now Y/N, or Wooyoung will attack me." Seonghwa smirks while saying this and then gives me a wink. Making me wonder what he means by that.

 "Let's go Y/N. I will drive you home." Wooyoung gets up from the couch, helping me too.

 It's been a week since the movie night, and since then Wooyoung began to act different around me. He was beside me all the time, excepting my classes and at home. Even then he would send me a lot of messages or call. He would always sit beside me and even suggested another family gathering for saturday. It was better than the first one we had when I just moved there.

 It’s been already two months since I moved here, time flied fast. I’m feeling really good being here. Me and the boys became really close, and they didn't do anything strange anymore since that one time when they disappeared without any explanation for two days. They helped me be less shy than before. I also don't feel as anxious anymore since they’re always with me, making me feel relaxed and safe just with their presence.

 It’s sunday morning, and Wooyoung just called me asking if I have any plans this afternoon. The answer was no, so he told me to be ready by three because now I have and he’ll come get me by then. He didn't say where we’ll be going but he mentioned that it’ll be just the two of us.

It's been a while already since I started to realise I might have feelings for Wooyoung, but I could never bring me to tell him that. We’re friends, so I tried to get over it to not ruin our friendship, but being around him all the time and getting all the attention he was giving me just made my feelings grow further.

It's already three. I'm wearing a cream blouse with a grey plaid skirt and I got some gray high boots to match. I‘m opting for a natural make up look, put on some accessories, I did my hair in waves and I got a matching purse to complete my look. I glance at myself in the mirror when I get a message from Wooyoung, announcing he's waiting for me outside.

 When I leave the house, my eyes land on Wooyoung. My breath gets stuck in my throat, he’s breathtaking. His outfit is composed of a white shirt and white pants, that he paired with some sneakers. This is totally the opposite of his usual black outfits. He made his hair into a ponytail, wears a white bandana and got some accessories to finalise his look. This style suits him a lot. When I look at his face, his mouth is slightly open, but he closes it when he realises I catched him staring too.

 "You look gorgeous." He said with a big smile that made my heart skip a beat.

 "You look very handsome too." I say avoiding his gaze.      

 "Let's go. I want to show you a place." He says excited while opening the car door for me.

 After an hour of driving, we finally reach our destination. We stop in front of a huge park. Inside it, cherry blossom trees are welcoming us on each side of the main path, and further into the park there’s a lake surrounded by benches. The wind makes it rain with cherry blossom flowers and the whole place starts to feel magical. I’m overflowing with joy seeing the beautiful scenery around us.

 "Thank you for showing me this beautiful place." I tell Wooyoung and hug him out of excitement.

 He wraps his hands around my waist too, hugging me back, then says: "Let's go seat on a bench. I have something to tell you." with a nervous tone.

 After we take a seat on one of the benches, he turns his face and locks his beautiful eyes with mine, taking my hands into his. My heart pounds faster at the small gesture.

 "Y/N, I don't know how to tell you this, or when the perfect moment to do it would come, but I think waiting for the perfect moment won't take me anywhere, so I decided to make one by inviting you here. I didn't really mention it, but this is actually a date."

 "Really? A date?" I ask surprised by his words.

 "Yes. Now the important thing I wanted to tell you." He takes a deep breath to calm his nervousness. "I like you, Y/N."

 I look at him surprised, thinking I might have heard him wrong.

 "Are you being serious right now?" I can see him getting sad after my question.

 "Yes... Well, if you don't feel the same it’s fine, but I’d like us to continue being friends, if that’s not too uncomfortable for you and- " I cut him off.

 "I like you too, but I couldn't believe what you just said, that's why I wanted to make sure I didn’t misunderstood you." I say with the biggest smile on my face.

 He looks at my face like he’s trying to capture this moment in his memory.    

Then he comes closer, coups my face with his hands and kisses me. I’m taken by surprise by his sudden move but I soon start kissing him back, and I could feel his lips turning into a smile against my mouth. His lips are soft and move gently against mine. I put my hands on his chest while we deepen the kiss. When we break apart, we rest our foreheads together.

Wooyoung takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing me to stand up.

 "Are you hungry?"

 "A little."

 "Ok. Let's go eat something."

 Wooyoung took me at a restaurant where we eated some pasta and cheesecake for dessert.

 "Wow, the food was amazing. Thanks for the dinner."

 "I'm glad you liked it. This is my favourite restaurant, so we’ll probably come here often on our next dates."

 "Next time I want to try their tiramisu."

 "Already planning what to eat next, sweetheart?" Wooyoung says laughing a little at me and my love for food. I hear him saying an "adorable" under his breath and I blush.

 He drives me home and walks me in front of my door.

 "I had a great time. Thanks for today, Wooyoung."

 "I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, princess." He says then kisses my forehead and turns to leave.

 "G-Goodnight..." His pet name made my heart flutter. I head inside fast to hide my pink turning face. If he keeps being like this my life span will get shorter.

 The next morning Wooyoung greets me with a kiss on the cheek and a big smile.

 After we arrive at school, all the boys are already there, waiting for us. When I get out of the car, San comes and hugs me.

 "Congratulations!"

 "For what?" I ask confused.

 "For your new relationship, of course!" Yunho says on his way to hug me too.

 "You already told them?" I turn and ask Wooyoung.

 "We knew he likes you, and also his plan on inviting you out and confess. And we kinda guessed you might like him too after we saw how you act around him." Yeosang explains, giving us a teasing grin.

 "We need to celebrate!" Shouts Mingi.

 "After school. Congratulations, you both deserve to be happy." Seonghwa says while smiling with affection.

 We all leave to our classes and after school we go to celebrate, as Mingi suggested.

 We came to a pastry to have some cake, and of course a lot of teasing from the boys, to Wooyoung for being a coward with his confession and for me because I was being so obvious about liking him. Although I think I did a good job since Wooyoung didn't knew about it. Unfortunately I have to cut this happy moment, because I need to ask them something.

 "Guys... Remember when you left without any signs of being alive that weekend?" I can see them sharing a look.

 "Yes... Why?" Hongjoong responds.

 "What did you do? Why did you avoid answering my question back then? I need to know the truth. I don't like to be lied. After so much time together you can trust me, I hope you know that..."

 "It’s not about trust. We do trust you, Y/N." San says softly.

 "Then?"

 "It’s just... If we tell you, maybe you’ll look at us in a different way..." Wooyoung says a little sad.

 "Whatever it is, I don't think that would change how I see you."  I try to reassure them.

 "You know that we said people think we are a gang?" Hongjoong asks me sighing.

 "Yes, I remember."

 "Well we kinda were one, because we used to ..” he takes another breath before finishing his sentence “..sell drugs… That’s what we did that weekend too. We went to sell the last drugs we had left, so we’d finally be done with this whole thing. We wanted to change, so we stopped after that day. It was the last time Y/N, we promise, and we didn't want you to find out because we are ashamed about it.." After Hongjoong is done talking, all of them let their heads down, being unable to look at me.

 “Did you consume too?”

 “No, we didn’t.” San answers firmly.

 I get up from the chair, all eight heads now turning to look at me.

 “I need some time to process all of this. I will leave first.”

 Wooyoung gets up too and reaches for my wrist, grabbing it.

 “Can I drive you?”

 “I would like to be alone right now... And some fresh air will help me think better.” I say as I remove his hand and leave.

 On my way home I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what they said again and again. I can’t believe they sold drugs... Even if they stopped, they still did something wrong... I just got together with Wooyoung and I find this about him.

 The next two days I told Wooyoung I will take the bus to school, and I avoided them. I feel guilty avoiding them, because everytime I met them in the hallways, they would look at me with pain in their eyes…

 On the third day, Wooyoung is waiting for me outside my class room. It was time to go home, so I tried to avoid him and leave but he called my name, so I stopped on my tracks and turned to face him.

 “Y/N... I know I messed up and I’m really sorry. Please stop ignoring us... I know what we did was wrong and illegal, but we stopped now. I swear we won’t go near any drugs ever again... Just please forgive us...” He says with a pleading face and my heart breaks at the sight.

 “I’m glad you understand that what you did was wrong... but I don’t know what to do right now... Woo, let me have some space for a few more days, ok?”

 “Take as much time as you need. I won’t put pressure on you. I just wanted you to know you mean a lot to us, to me.. and we miss you already.”

 “Thank you for understanding, Wooyoung. I’ll leave now, bye.”

 “Bye...” He says in a small sad voice.

 On Saturday I write them a message in our group chat, saying that I want to meet up.

 We’re all gathered in a park. The boys look at me with what I can only describe as hope.

 “What you did was wrong.” I start off. “Still, you seem to understand that and you’re trying to make things right now. I appreciated this and I want to be by your side in this process and help you.”

 “Does this mean you forgive us and still want to be our friend?” San asks excited.

 “Yes, San.” When the boys hear my answer, they quickly envelope me in a big group hug.

 “Thanks for coming back to us, Y/N.” Wooyoung says, giving me another hug, and I hug him back tightly as I’ve missed him.

 After a month, everyone at school found out about my relationship with Wooyoung. We also told our parents, and they were extremely happy for us.

We’re really happy together, he’s so good to me. He’s caring, understanding, and helps me a lot when I have any problems. Thanks to him I’m also getting more open and comfortable around people I don’t know. He brings out the best in me and I’m grateful for this.

 We’re on a date at the Amusement Park. We’ve been on almost all the carousels, the only ones left are the big ones, as I'm scared of heights.

Wooyoung won me a cute puppy plushie at one of the games. We also ate a lot of food, especially coton candy; everything went great today.

 "Hey, I want to ride one last thing before we go."

 "Which one?" I ask as I look in the direction that he's looking too, only to see The Big Whell. My eyes are widening at the sight of it.

 "No! No! You said you’re fine if we’re not going on the big rides." I say shaking my head, not wanting to even get close to that thing.

 "I am, but I want to enjoy the view from up there with you, baby. Please, I promise nothing will happen to you. Don't you trust me?"

 I sigh in defeat seeing his puppy eyes. He knows I can’t refuse him if he does this and he smirks at me, proud he won me over so easily. He then starts dragging me excited to the queue of people.

We wait in line for about 30 minutes until our turn to get in one of the boxes comes. We sit down and I grip Wooyoung’s hand as we start moving up. I hide my face in his chest and he laughs a litter. I could feel his vibration through me.

 "It’s not funny..."

“Baby, please look at me.” He says softly, but I don’t look up, so he frees his hand out of my grip and coups my face with both of them, bringing me face him.

 “We are already up, please look at the view, I promise you will regret if you don’t, it’s really worth it. I want to look at it together with you.” He says pleading me with his eyes and I nod my head in response. His face breaks into a beautiful smile at this.

 I look out the window and my mouth opens a little at the sight that hits me. He was right. It’s so beautiful. It’s already dark outside so the city is illuminated. Everything looks so small from here.

I turn to face Wooyoung and he looks at me too.

 “I love you, Y/N.” He just tells me this for the first time.

 “I love you too, Wooyoung.” I say and he kisses me gently. He tries to pour all his love for me in the kiss and I respond back with the same amount of affection.

  masterlist

[lilchibi-chan]

Officer Sawamura x Reader

Art by Suyohara

This has been living in my head absolutely rent free, so I decided to come up with a HC

At the moment, your neighborhood has been the victim to a string of break-ins. Nobody has been injured or severely hurt, but police have been stationed and there is a curfew of 9 pm. 

Tonight, you had to work late, so you knew that would get home way past curfew. You didn’t wanna go through the hassle of showing your ID and what house you were going to, but it would give you a chance to speak to the very handsome police officer that patrolled your neighborhood from four to midnight. 

He had been there for a couple weeks by this point, but you would always sneak a glance at him when you could. Even greet him with a wave when you see him, but you never spoke to him up close.

Once you finally make it home, it’s 11 and you see him standing outside of his car stretching. You start watching him, analyzing every muscle and flex.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a male voice.

“You okay, miss,” he asks, snapping you out of your daze

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you say nervously as the large man towers over you

You look up and see the very officer, you had been admiring

“That’s good then,” he says with a laugh,”Anything I can help you with tonight?”

“N-no, just trying to head home,” you say pointing in the direction of your house

“I’m gonna need to just see your ID then and you should be on your way,” he says with a warm smile and comforting eyes

You rustle around in your purse for your wallet to take out your ID for him. You hand over the ID and you two brush hands for a moment. His hands were warm.

“Nice picture. Even mine doesn’t look this good,” he says as soon as he gets your ID

“Thanks”

He scans the rest of your ID and hands it back to you.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” he says smiling,”Have a good rest of your night Ms. Y/L/N”

“Thanks, you too Officer...”

“Sawamura”

You walk away and head to your house. He watches after you until you’re out of his line of sight. 

Once you enter your home, you lean back on your door, smile and bite your lip.

‘Sawamura’ you think to yourself

You head to your bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.

In the morning, you wake up around 6:45 to start getting ready for work. You head to the bathroom and take your shower, wash your face and brush your teeth and all the while, you think about Officer Sawamura. You think about how tall he is, his eyes and how sweet they were.

You bite your lip, then smile. 

You finish getting ready at around 7:30 and eat some breakfast. You finish around 8:15 and wash your dishes, so you come home to an empty sink.

You make it to work on time and your best friend greets you.

“Hey girl, you look amazing today”

You smile

“Thanks”

“You dressed up for any special reason”

“Yeah. My mom set up a bling date with one of her friends sons,” you say rolling your eyes

You weren’t in a rush to get married and you didn’t really feel pressured to date. You always felt that it would happen naturally and grow over time. For now, you focused on your job because it’s something you love and are passionate about.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t bring you down too much. How about we go to lunch together this afternoon? That way you can keep your mind off tonight and we can have some girl chat,” your best friend says

“Sure,” you laugh,“sounds great!”

“Alright, well I’ll let you get to it and you can meet me in the lobby at 12:30”

“Sounds like a plan!” you say excitedly

You do the work you could get done before lunch and head to the elevator at 12:15 since you work on a high floor in the building.

You get to the lobby at 12:20 and wait for your friend to arrive. They come down five minutes behind you and headed out to a nearby cafe you frequented together.

You were sitting down enjoying your lunch, when the door to the cafe opened and you heard the bell ring, causing you to turn your attention towards the door. Your eyes open wide at who just came in. Officer Sawamura.

He was with a friend that had shining, grey hair and dark grey eyes. He looked just as good in plain clothes as he did in his police uniform. You caught yourself staring and bring yourself back to earth. When you look back at your best friend, they’re smirking at you.

“So who’s that ma’am” they ask still smirking

“Well ya know how I have curfew in my neighborhood cause of the break ins that have been happening. He’s one of the police officers that’s on duty when I get home” you say trying to hide yourself

“Well why don’t you say hi to him”

“I don’t wanna bother him, especially since he’s with a friend”

“If you don’t say anything, I will. He is fine” your best friend says laughing

Daichi hears your laughter which causes him to look towards your direction. As you’re laughing, you turn towards his direction and you both lock eyes.

He starts walking towards you and you get extremely nervous.

“He’s walking over. Why is he walking over,” you say frantically

“Cause he’s coming to say hello like a normal person. Stop being weird”

“Hey Ms. Y/L/N”

“Hello Officer Sawamura”

“I’m off the clock, please call me Daichi”

“Are you sure”

“Yes, I’m positive” he says with a warm smile

“Okay, then call me Y/N”

“Okay...Y/N, it’s nice to see you. You look really beautiful today”

“Thank you,” you say blushing

“Special plans or just cause”

“They’re plans, but they’re not special. My mom set me up on a date and-”

“Do you two want a minute” your best friend says

“Yeah seems like we’re third wheeling here, Daichi” the grey haired boy says

“I’m sorry, this is Y/BSF/N” you say introducing her to Daichi and his friend

“Nice to meet you, this is Sugawara” Daichi says in response

“Hey, nice to meet you both” Sugawara says with a bright smile

“Would you like to join us” you ask

“Y/N, We actually have to get back soon, our break is almost over,” your best friend says

You look at the time and you’re shocked. It didn’t even feel like time had went that fast.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize,” you say frowning

“It’s okay, we actually have to head back too. We just came to grab a quick bite,” Daichi says,“but uh don’t be too late tonight Y/N, I might have to write you up” he says with a smile

You let out a small laugh

“Yes sir” you say saluting him

You all say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

You sit at your desk and just wait for 6 o’clock to arrive, so you can get this date over with.

You were meeting the guy at a restaurant not too far from your job’s building, so you decided to walk there.

Once you get to the restaurant, you look around and see him sitting at a table by himself. You and him had been texting before hand because he thought it would be awkward if you just met up. You knew him, but you barely ever spoke prior to him texting you.

You walk over and greet him.

“Hey Kuroo,” you say with a smile,”It’s been a while”

“Yeah, it has. You look beautiful tonight. I mean you are a beautiful in general, but tonight you look-”

“Thank you, Kuroo,” you say laughing,”You look really handsome tonight”

You go to pull out your chair, but Kuroo rushes up and pulls it out for you.

“Wow, what a gentlemen” you say teasing, but in a nice way

“Yeah, I try” he says laughing and brushing off his shoulder, joking back

‘Maybe, this isn’t gonna be so bad,’ you think to yourself

For the rest of the date, you and Kuroo basically play catch up because you haven’t spoken since you moved in middle school. The date went surprisingly well and you were open to see if anything could come of this. You liked the idea of new beginnings and open to doing new things.

You and Kuroo walk out of the restaurant together and slowly walk up the block. It was currently 9 o’clock which means you will be get home after curfew. You didn’t mind at all because even though your conversations have been brief, you like talking to Daichi and he seems really genuine.

Kuroo suddenly stops and grabs your hand. You turn to face him and look down at your hands.

“S-sorry, I uh just wanted to know if you wanted a ride home. It’s kinda late and my mom would have my head,” he says shyly

You look at your phone again and it’s 9:15. You figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially since it’s so late.

“Sure, Kuroo. That’s really nice of you”

“Well, I’ve always been a nice person”

You let out a small laugh as he opens the door for you to get in the car.

“Comfortable?” he asks bending down to your level

“Yeah. Thank you”

“No problem,” he says before closing the door, making sure all your limbs and belongings are in the car. 

He makes his way to the other side and enters the car.

You make it to your neighborhood at 10:30 and Kuroo gets out the car to open the door for you.

“Thanks for tonight, Kuroo. I actually had a better time than I thought I would,” you say honestly

“I’m glad, I was really hoping I wouldn’t come off as a jerk or something,” he says relieved

“No,” you say laughing,”it was actually quite the opposite. I even liked your little rambles about chemistry.”

“Really?! Girls are usually put off by that,” he confesses

“I enjoyed it very much. I’d much rather see the real you than get the phony, trying to impress me, you”

You start walking away from the car, then Kuroo speaks up.

“Would it be okay if I walked you? It doesn’t have to be all the way. I’m just not ready to say goodbye yet.”

You smile

“It’s fine Kuroo. Let’s go”

You and Kuroo start walking into your neighborhood and Daichi is there, as usual.

“I thought I told you not to be late tonight,” he says jokingly

“I’m a big girl Dai-I mean officer Sawamura” you say joking back

“Wow Daichi-san, it’s been a while and you’re a police officer. That’s quite a noble profession, when done by the right people and you’re a real noble guy, so”

“Thanks Kuroo, it’s nice to see you too” he says smiling

“Wait, you two know each other” you ask shocked

“In high school, we played against each other on different volleyball teams. We had a great rivalry and even became friends,” Daichi answers

“Wow, so you guys go way back,” you say surprised

“Yeah, it’s nice seeing you again Kuroo,” Daichi says with a smile

“You too,” Kuroo says smiling,“Y/N, seeing as you have Daichi here protecting your neighborhood, I feel like it’s safe you to get home. Have a good night”

He hugs you and you hug back.

“Thanks again, Kuroo”

“Anytime. Hopefully I get to see you soon Y/N”

You and Daichi watch as Kuroo walked to his car. Once he gets there, you turn and face Daichi. You notice a glint in his eye, but can’t make out what it is.

Daichi turns his attention to you, his eyes still filled with warmth.

“So, it went well huh?”

“Surprisingly, yes” you say with a soft smile

“You gonna see him again?”

“Maybe, I don’t know...this whole dating thing is still new to me. I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and even then, we didn’t really go on that many dates. I’m looking forward to see where it goes though. I’m open to new experiences.”

“Well, that’s a good outlook to have. It’s very attractive,” he says smiling at you

You blush, not knowing how to react.

“Uhh thank you,” you say nervously

He let out a small laugh

“Have a good night, Y/N”

“Y-you too, officer Sawamura”

He watches as you walk away and smiles to himself. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this first part of my new series. I will still be doing siren song, so don’t worry for those who are waiting or looking forward to it. I’m working on about a bagillion things behind the scenes for this blog, so please be patient. I love you all and thanks so much for the support 💖