#and kinda wanna test if there’s something I WONT watch just for him

[psychoticwillgraham]

mom: ‘you can choose the movie for tonight :3’

me, who really wants to watch Polar just bc of ‘that one scene’ with mads: ‘hmm. not a very good idea’

[vermiliien]

agahagahh what am i doing🙏

i kinda got bored and i wanna do itto headcanons☺️ (not exactly a headcanon idk)

gn!reader

SO. we're talking about the sweetest, handsomest, funniest and sometimes most annoyingest boy in INAZUMA!!

ARATAKI ITTO !!! (but he likes u and u dont know it... maybe)

we r gonna b talking abt how he acts around inazuma when ur right by his side cause ur his right-hand man yk and he needs you by his side cause he genuinely can't do everything by himself even if he says so

every morning itto likes to bring u crimson staff, his beetle battle warrior (it's a poor excuse just to talk to you)

he talks as if he won beetle fights (when in reality, u won the fights for him. he just wont admit it because he'd hurt his pride if he did)

when going to restaurants, he's gonna make u do a taste test just to make sure that there aren't any beans. what a nightmare.

he actually just wants u to taste it first cause he likes ur reaction to the flavors (he's not stupid enough to order food with beans)

he's such a sweet boy, he'll protect you even if ur just walking on a perfectly safe road

like, he'd suddenly jump in front of u at the sound of leaves rustling or a twig snapping

he would adventure with u, looking for onikabutos and then would say “(name), look, look!! i found an onikabuto instead of some stupid lavender melon!!” and then would proceed to say he's the best onikabuto hunter in all of inazuma

you actually just put the onikabuto there cause u felt kinda bad that he keeps finding lavender melons

when the two of u got some alone time together, he would take advantage of that and would take you to his special and favorite spot in inazuma city, hoping that you'd like his favorite place too

eventually, it became a little ritual of the both of u to visit his favorite spot whenever the gang was away

in return, you brought him to your favorite spot as well, giving a breathtaking view of... of i-dont-know-where, but definitely a stunning sight

itto swore he felt his heart explode into millions and billions and trillions of butterflies when you brought him to your favorite spot, and that made him feel special

we are getting sidetracked

when he and his gang are together, itto is very, very chaotic, always suggesting something dangerous that could possibly get the tenryou commission involved

well.. that's only until you're around. he gets very shy (sometimes)

when you're with him and his gang, he's suddenly calmer, only suggesting activities such as playing hide and seek, looking for onikabuto together and beetle fighting

and he'd often make up fake stories to impress you, and it works like a charm

when you're away for longer than an hour, he'll start whining to shinobu, complaining about how it's so lonely and gloomy and depressing without you

and if you catch him in the middle of his crocodile sobbing and he'd see you, he'll get embarrassed but will cheer up nonetheless, talking about how it's been ages since he'd last seen you

sometimes, when you're away, his gang (mostly akira) would immediately start talking about how itto should already confess to you, causing the others to agree

of course, itto would get far too flustered and would immediately turn down their suggestions in fear of rejection “oh, what? h- pssh, no! nonononono NO! they aren't gonna like me back, no! (name) already thinks im annoying enough!!”

the gang would just roll their eyes. they know and you know that you like itto, too

at some point, they'd managed to convince itto into confessing his feelings for you, saying that someone else would steal your heart and that he'd lose his chance

god knows how itto managed to believe them in spite of their very obvious dramatics

“c'mon, boss! y'gotta tell 'em at some point,” exclaimed an agitated mamoru, following an obviously anxious oni around as he paced back and forth in an obviously nervous manner. in the background, akira could be seen catching a fainting genta in his arms. shinobu merely watched in slight amusement.

akira said something incoherent, followed by genta who nodded along in agreement, so mamoru decided to mimic genta's movements. “uh-huh, what akira said!”

with pursed lips, itto stopped dead in his tracks and placed his fists on his hips, feigning a look of false determination. “yeah... yeah! i'll confess to (name)! in fact, i'll confess to them right now!” at that, his gang cheered (with only shinobu sighing in exasperation).

it actually took a while for itto to muster up enough courage to meet you.

the oni genuinely didn't know where you were so he merely roamed the streets of inazuma, whistling a tune in hopes of easing his nerves.

but then he saw you, making him panic and have a mini heart attack. itto had half a mind to jump into a bush and hide instead of confronting his feelings.

when you looked at him, he wanted to turn back time because he's already regretting agreeing to his gang.

“hey, itto.” you greeted him casually with a small wave of your hand, a bit concerned with how his face is so red but decided to just ignore that altogether.

itto, in the meantime, was panicking and geeking out at the same time. he wanted to giggle, to scream, to pull his hair, to kick his feet like an absolutely infatuated middle school girl, but he also wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“h.. hi...” he mumbled shyly, which is quite unusual. your brows furrowed and you began to grow a bit more concerned. “are you okay? y'don't look too good.” you murmured, sounding incredibly concerned.

inhaling deeply, he gathered what little confidence he had left, and blurted out his feelings in one breath. “ilikeyousomuchithinkaboutyouallthetimeandyou'resofunnyandprettyandamazingandfunandhonestlyyou'rethebestpersonininazumacauseidon'tknowwhereiwouldbeifihadn'tmetyou—”

you hastily cut him off, which was a good thing because he might waste all of his breath just to tell you something. “wait, wait, slow down! don't just.. i can't understand you like that. can ya' say that again?”

the oni immediately went silent, clasping his hands in front of him in a polite manner as he stared at you awkwardly.

“um,” he started in a meek voice, averting his eyes from your pretty ones. when he looked back at you, his face turned as red as his makeup (if that was even possible) and he looked away again.

eventually, he sighed and decided to just say it. this time, he was bold enough to meet your gaze. “i like you, (name). i've always liked you.” itto stated quietly, then pursed his lips, anxiously waiting for your response.

you merely stared at him in shock, then started laughing in disbelief. the sweet, sweet oni was caught off guard and looked at you, then pouted. “don't laugh. i'm actually being serious here.” he said sternly. but your laughter and smile was so infectious that he couldn't help himself and smile as well, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

you soon calmed from your laughter, then gave him a huge smile, your face also turning a bit red. “i like you too, itto.”

at your words, he wanted to just “AAAAAHHHOH MY GOD. THEY LIKE ME. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OHMYGOD.”

BONUS:

giggling and laughing and smiling, itto brought you to a secluded area, then plucked out a pretty looking flower from a bush and put it on your head cause he didn't know how to put it behind your ear.

“you're as pretty as the flower,” commented your sweet boy, his bright smile accentuating his blushing cheeks.

your face reddened a bit and you smiled softly. “and you're as handsome as the sun.”

normally, that would've stroked his ego.

but instead, he's geeking out, squealing and running away and running back to you, only to run away and jump up and down like a kid.

he's a silly guy, but he's your silly guy.

ok guys bye thats the end of the video make sure to like and subscribe

[zbwor1d]

Zb1 members as love tropes<3

🤍 pairing : zb1 members x genderneutral!reader

🤍 warning : cursing, not proofread

🤍 genre : fluff cuz thats all i know what to write, a bit of angst in gyuvin's

🤍 word count : idk tbh sorry

♡kim jiwoong

fake relationship

you were in a same acting project

while practicing the script together, he proposed the idea first

saying that it would help with the chemistry between you two

"are you serious?" you hesitated.

"yeah, what could go wrong?" he simply replied with his sexy ass eyes

after shooting for couple scenes, both of you start to get confused with the relationship

it felt REALLLL

he asked you to meet after the shooting

"i think," he started. "i think, you know, i might fall in love with the idea of us"

♡zhang hao

soulmate

you were sitting down in the corner of a coffee shop, reading the same page of the book over and over

all because of the overly handsome guy who was sitting across the coffee shop, doing something on his macbook

you swear you could feel him in your memories

while sipping your tea, you try to steal another glance, but he already looking at you

it made you jumped on your chair, frantically trying to flip trough the pages of the book in your hands

you had your head down, eyes focusing on the book hoping that he wont catch you staring

but then, you heard the chair moves, footsteps getting close

"fuck im fucked" you cursed under your breath

"im sorry to disturb you," he softly knocked on your table, "have we met before?"

"huh?" thats what im thinking! you thought

"i know its weird but i think we might have history? i dont know but i could feel you somewhere in my memories but cant pinpoint where" he let out an awkward chuckle

you smiled, amazed by the situation, "its crazy cuz i feel the same too"

"uh, then, can i sit here with you?"

♡sung hanbin

summer's fling

you decided to have a vacation at a beach for the whole summer

everything was doing great, especially with your crazy good looking tourist guide

he was sweet, funny, great at making coffee and got really attractive when his on the surfing board

you two were having popsicles

"have you ever surfed?" he popped a question

"surf? i've never... isn't it kinda scary?" you replied

"well, at first, it was. but then it became my comfort activity. i can teach you"

then here you are, face being hit by the waves countless of time

"it's hard! i think i have low iron or something, i can't stand on this thing" you sulked

he giggled "you're just scared. come on its okay, im here for you, to hold your hand" gazing your eyes

the silence was too loud and your cheeks is burning hot in the summer heat

you avoided his gaze

he smirked "and for the whole summer too"

♡seok matthew

first love

you two were 18

and he was your class monitor

he was the brightest and it was hard to not fall in love

you were having the fattest crush on him and it was kinda- no, really obvious, your friend said

during the midterm exam, you blew off the test so bad

"yo, mr.park wants you at his table" your classmate informed

upon entering the teachers' room, you were a bit taken aback seeing matthew was there too

it was embarrassing to have your crush watching you being nagged for your bad test result

"honestly i don't know what is wrong with you, but if this happen again next exam, you might just give up college" mr.park sighed "but i am a responsible teacher, i wouldn't let that happen. hence, this is why our matthew is here"

"pardon sir?" you heard him, just need confirmation

"2 or 3 month tutoring is not that bad right? i heard our guy here is very good at teaching, right?" mr.park said

during the first tutor was very nerve wrecking, you didn't want your feelings get to him

"are you okay? you look a bit tense" he asked

"i- im f- fine, yeah"

"really? wanna stop a second?"

"no- i really don't understand this part" you quickly changing the subject

"oh this one? let me see" he scooted closer to you

and your reflex was to get away from him, resulting to you falling off the chair

"woah im sorry! you okay?" he went to help you get up, resulting you to slide away from his touch

"i- im okay!" you said, avoiding him

poor boy was confused

but then it kinda clicked, "you really like me that much?" he smiled, "i thought i was the only one who likes you" he confessed

♡kim taerae

love at first sight

you were going out to relieve your stress

just walking around the city

and then you heard a beautiful voice singing accompanying the guitar sounds

you walked to the voice and saw a man doing a busking with lots of people surrounding him

at one point, he smiled so brightly and sweetly that your heart couldn't handle it

while you were falling in love with his smile and voice, he just happened to look at you and his smile brighten

you stayed until the show was over

he started to tidy up his equipments but halted when he saw you

"oh, you... you stayed till the end?"

"yeah..., you have such a sweet voice, and smile"

he smiled again, "ah, i get that a lot"

you said without skipping a beat, just following your thoughts "can i have your number?"

♡shen ricky

childhood friends

you two weren't the closest friends, but for some reason, you had a lot of memories together as a child

you parted ways when high school started, he started to get famous and you just there, being the outsider

but once college life started, you two were miraculously got into the same university

both of you still didn't talk to each other, just smiles and awkward hi's when crossing paths

but one day, while you were eating alone in the cafeteria, he made his way to you

"hey, can i sit here?"

glancing to all the empty spaces in the cafeteria, you replied "yeah"

putting down his food, he started "it has been a while right?"

"i know" you continued "i saw you come to school with different sport car everyday"

"oh, you've been stalking me?" he teased

"wha- no! im just- you're every girl's topic, it's impossible to ignore" you were taken aback

he smirked, "ah the girls, were you jealous?"

you scoffed in desbelief "why- i- you acted like you don't know me wrong the whole 4 years and-"

"i wanna know all about you now" he cut off

♡kim gyuvin

enemies to lovers

you don't know when it started, but the tension between you two are always tense

he just know how to make you mad in every way possible

but in the end, its him you seek comfort to

one day your group friends were having a visit to the amusement park

but eventually all of them can't make it, leaving you two to enjoy the fun

"why is it always you" you sigh

he scoffed "huh, you really think i want to hang out with you? make it make sense."

but not wanting to waste the precious ticket, you guys decided just to take the roller coaster ride

but boy is scared asf

unconsciously, he grabbed your hand and held it the whole ride

after the ride, you seriously wanted to make a hideous remark to his situation that moment but he was really sick

he silently sat down to the nearest wall, head pulled all the way down

feeling a bit worried, you asked "hey, you okay?"

"i told you i hate these rides" he replied with a small voice

"i- im sorry, i didnt know that" you hesitated, but eventually have him small pats on his back

to your shock, he suddenly hugged you

"shut up, i really needed this" he reasoned

"you scaredy baby" you smiled, putting your chin on his head

♡park gunwook

bestfriends to lovers

it was raining hard and you guys were stuck in a convenience store

boy was craving some ramyeon so he called you to go for a midnight run

"i know it was already a bad idea when you ring me at 1 in the morning" you sighed

"well, at least we can eat ramyeon" he responded

looking at your dispirited expression, another stupid idea popped out of his head

he grinned,"hey, wanna do something fun?"

he grabbed your wrist and started to bolt out of the store

"WTF ARE YOU DOING" you screamed after being greeted by the heavy rains

"AINT THIS IS FUN" he screamed back

you two laughed and continue to run aimlessly, hand in hand

after a while, you two sit in the rain, and he looked at you, asking for eye contact

he smiled and you replied his smile

"i love you" he confessed

♡han yujin

boy next door

it has been 2 years since you moved in the current house

but it was kinda hard to be close with the neighbors, everyone was busy with their lifes

but every morning before going to school, you always meet this beautiful boy that lives one unit below you

you two would exchange smiles and nods and thats it

but one day, he knocked your door

"he- hey" he shyly greeted

"oh, um yeah why..?" this is bizarre

"im sorry but do you have some salt..?" he asked

"some what?"

"ah," he scratched his head "i tried cooking and i just realized i dont have... you know, uhh... salt."

you went in the get some salt

"here you go" you smiled "you need more help?"

he hesitated for a second

"oh its oka- i mean- i think i need some help, the bacon is kinda burnt.." he let out an awkward chuckle

ah, yeah of course lets go save the bacon" you laughed

while going to his house, he said "just saying, but i've been wanting to talk to you" he shyly confessed

p/s : yeah i was inspired by Love Struck in the City for shanbin's and Have We Met Before by Sarah Barrios for matthew's ngehngeh plz do send me ideas for me to writes more! -inha🍒

[aquilaaktuk]

deathstar puss in boots last wish au? deathstar puss in boots last wish au.

hastily doodled in a starbucks and everything. theres like way more tho

’why is this written like a shitpo-’ I WRITE LIKE I THINK AND HOW I THINK MADE ONE OF MY TEACHERS PUT ME IN LEARNING ENHANCEMENT IM NOT KIDDING

anyway i had an idea for this but it came to me at 6am after i just woke up so it’s probably REALLY eh. anyway kid is death because thats like the logical jump and blackstar is puss and tsubaki is kitty but not romantically involved at all because tsustar is. vile. anyway, they’re cat robin-hoods, steal from the rich give to the poor. one day blackstar steals something thats supposed to grant immortality and he’s like “theres no way this is real but lemme test it out anyway for personal reasons.” and then it ends up being real. and he’s totally chilling with that because this could be his shot at surpassing god ‘cept death and death jr are not okay with that at all and he looses in a really funny way to dtk and gets pretty pissed. his day is ruined more when tsubaki says she’s on her last life and wants to retire and blackstar properly freaks out. in my head i steal from the sandman a little and the thompsons are two regular twins who got killed during a robbery gone wrong and then get the chance to keep ‘living’ as presumably servants of death and they’re like ‘yeah sure whatever’ and then get passed off to his neurotic nervous wreck of a son and then also belatedly realise theyre ravens and definitely not human. they chill though theyre his literal wing-sisters. *flicks wrist*

anyway because big daddy death is totally not chill with the idea of immortal cats wandering around he tells dtk to go and Git Him because its good training for when he succeeds him or whatever. anyway dtk goes and tries to do that and even though every time they fight he absolutely claps blackstar, b*star always gets away and its getting kinda really frustrating, so he just watches him trying to find a moment where his guard is down enough for a quick stab n go. doesnt really happen instead he just gets feelings which is really gay and lame of him everyone point and laugh. anyway eventually he goes from ‘i must kill this guy because dad said so’ to ‘i wanna be his friend and maybe also kiss him idk’ hes not very good at emotions. its just as well the thompsons are there. anyway eventually theyre on speaking terms and after much preamble they have a lil heart to heart and its very sweet.

i imagine if ass*star was a cat he’d be a maine coon not because they’re large or particularly menacing, but because theyre one of the few breeds with enough fur to maintain that absolutely batshit hairstyle that hes got going

anway kid is like totally freaking out because big daddy death told him to go and kill this guy and he’s absolutely not done that at all, in fact he’s done the polar opposite and romanced him instead so they’re running around trying to figure out what to do and liz is like ‘dude your dad would kill and die for you why not just be out with it’ so they do that and lo and behold, big daddy death is like. totally chill about it.

anyway death dies and that really sucks but i also havent thought up to that point, all i know is that ass*star wont be allowed to run around like that forever and hes definitely not off the hook for becoming some fucked up god of accidentally gaining immortality. 

‘but what about the lines of sa-’ i dont care. 

[system-society]

We are in a relationship with someone who probably a singlet. (Wdk what goes on in their head lol) and we want to come out about our system. We’re worried about a few things..

1. Actually telling them. We don’t wanna just,, drop it on them,, but this is kinda a big deal, we don’t want them to get too invested and then come out.

2. He is the first irl person we’re coming out to. We worry he’ll freak out or tell people, or think we’re crazy, or something. He’s always been so sweet and patient, but you never know how they’ll react. He known about the very very surface stuff, we’ve told him we’re a really inconsistent person and we change a lot but we never told him why.

3. And what happens if they accept us?? What will happen?? How do we take the mask off?? We don’t know how to take any of our masks off. We can’t tell where the mask ends and we begin. We have autism, so some unmasking tips for that would be great too.

-📼

Thank you& so much for even reading this, and even more so if you respond. Have a wonderful timezone, you all are amazing. -🕰️

Hey there! I totally get what you think its terrifying!

My advice is: test the waters. See what he thinks about plurality. We, personally, use the Moon Knight television series as it has decent rep and is explicitly plural. Watching it with them/asking their response/etc, seeing how they feel about it and guiding a conversation from there.

Ultimately, I cannot tell you how or when to come out. That’s something you must figure out. But I am here for you, and from what he sounds like, he sounds like he will support you.

As someone who’s partner came out as plural before we figured it out, one thing I do want to add is reassure him that he is not loosing his partner. Reassure him that x amount of people or the whole system loves him—whatever’s applicable—and your love has not changed. It may seem obvious, but as a receiver when a big thing happens, thats our first response—how is it going to be different from now on? Lay that part out, explain whats the same and what changes.

But most importantly, give him time, its a lot to process. He might react badly at first, but give him a day or so to process it. It was a LOT for us to handle at first, but we eventually got the hang of it!

After that, taking down the mask is going to be hard. I wont lie to you. It will take time. Take it slow, wear fronting indicators if you so choose. If you’re ready, ask him to ask you& who’s fronting at times. Do not rush yourself.

I want you to know that we are rooting for anon, and I hope that he knows how lucky he is to have people like you&

[gh-0st-y]

ooo AAA riddle fic, lets go!!! for my pookies @pixy-styx and @spadecentral !!! <333

— Remember for Me

summary : you unfortunately got a low grade on a high marked test, bringing your mood down - riddle is there to comfort you.

cw : angst to comfort, gn!reader, riddle x reader, fear of failure

authors note : projecting with that fear huh 😬

countless hours of studying, flashcards, conversing with other students, going through every book in the library, and what did you score? 49%.

all your hard work, down the drain. youre back, neck, shoulders ached from your hunched position when you were studying, your eyes red and drooping, practically begging for sleep. all for 49%.

walking to ramshackle was tiring, trudging along, dragging your feet. when you were inside, you dropped your bag onto the floor carelessly which was sure to bite you in the ass later, falling backwards onto the couch that saw your countless nights of studying. grim sat on your stomach, staring down at you, your arm draped over your eyes.

"henchman? whats wrong?" grim said, almost sounding worried. you forced a tight smile, voice cracking whilst fighting off tears behind your arm, "oh, nothing just..tired. so tired.." you sighed.

there was a knock at the door, raising your arm to look at the door. it went silent. then there was another knock. you couldnt leave them waiting.

"coming, coming. grim, get off," you pick him off your stomach, placing him down on your previous spot on the couch as you walked over to the door, tripping over your bag. you groaned, biting your cheek to hold back an angry cry.

finally getting to the door, you opened it, "oh, riddle, hi." you looked down at the boy, "something wrong?"

"i wanted to talk to you about that previous test. may i come in?" he spoke, posture straight and voice as strict and condescending as usual.

"oh..alright." you stepped out the way. riddle walked past you, looking around.

"..you really havent done much to the dorm?" he spoke. you shrugged, not really interested in answering. he turned around to face you, watching you close the door, "so, your score on the test. what was it again?"

you groaned, looking away, "49%, nothing big, i get it, your smart, im not, what else do you wanna shove in my face?" you ranted, "that i wont succeed? that me hanging around ace and deuce damages my head? wanna prove im some kinda– wreck?" you flailed your arms around, anger rising in your chest as you spoke.

"what? great seven, no, i came to offer help for your studies!" riddle tried to speak but you were finally breaking down your walls.

"oh, cause im- im just an idiot, right? cant do a simple test, you think- you think im not smart right? im just another student slacking off!" youre voice raised, tears welling in your eyes

"prefect, calm yourself! what is this behaviour?" riddle spoke, hand on his chest. he sounded like an overbearing, snobby parent.

"shut up, i dont– i dont care! i really dont- j-just shut- up! i get it, i cant do something so simple, leave me a-alone!" you finally cried, yelling at the red head who stared, shocked at your state.

"prefect, i never said such a thing. why would i?" riddle stepped closer, wary.

"i- just-" you sobbed, beginning to shake, knees threatening to give out. you tried to regulate your breathing, "im really just- gonna fail..! great seven, i- fuck–" your knees finally gave up on supporting your weight. riddle hurried over, trying to catch you before you fell, but not really helping your fall. he slowly lowered himself to the ground, along with you, sitting in silence. he listened to you cry, all the while holding your shaking hands with his own.

when youd seemed to calm, he raised a hand, gently wiping away your tears with his finger, "prefect, i understand your fear. it must have been hard. you look so tired, how long were you studying?"

you sniffled, "i couldnt a-answer," your voice shook, body seeming to shiver as you spoke.

"my dear," he raised his other hand, holding your face gently, "you tried tremendously hard. but now, i say its time for a break. i think a cup of tea and a slice of tart is just what you need," he gently tucked strands of loose hair behind your ear.

blinking away excess tears, you spoke quietly, "i-id like that. yeah." you smiled softly, riddle doing the same.

"you are smart, do not forget it. and if you do, ill remind you again. remember it for me."

authors note : YO IM ?????IN TEARS 😭😭 I HOPE YOU ENJOYED <33

[prettyboykatsuki]

please PLEASE write more abt bully bkg!!! what happened next?? what did kiri do omg

tw ;; mild toxicity, bully!bkg, kirishima being a shit, fem!reader 18+, spanking, oral (f!recieving), bkg accidentally worships your pussy instead of punishing you :/, unprotected sex, praise kink 

PT. 1

a/n ;; have i mentioned he makes me absolutely out of my mind yet? have i said that?!??#?$# 

i think we’ve established about the two of them enough by now so here’s how i picture it. 

like i said before - bkg is a campus athlete, popular and well-rounded and all around has that like image to him and so when he essentially confesses to you after fucking you stupid in the library, that’s basically him making you his girlfriend. you don’t know that for a long time but we’ll get there later. 

anwyays.. right after he fucks you nice n full of his cum, he slides your panties and shorts right back on and snickers as he watches you struggle to get to your feet before eventually helping you. he keeps your bra as a punishment and makes you keep his hoodie, almost biting you when you try and take kirishimas to return it to him. he’ll do it himself, don’t test him. 

when you’re all dressed - he makes you pack up and ends up walking you to your dorm room in the middle of the night (which you beg him to not do) but he’ll be fucking damned if anything bad happens to you. it’s his version of affectionate but you don’t know that yet so you’re mostly awkwardly trying to dodge him on the way back BUT he’s still bkg so when he notices that he yanks you. 

he makes you hold his arm and licks your cheek cause he’s such a fucking dick. hits you with a “get used to it, princess” with the most condescending tone. but he’s being so serious. you just think he’s teasing you but he’s not.. he means it. get used to him, basically because now he’s a constant presence in your life. 

he drops you off in front of your dorm and you’re about to wave him off but before you can go he grabs your waist and basically dips you for a kiss. and it’s so good - fuck, you wish you could say you hated it. but bakugou is experienced as much as he’s mean so he kisses you like his life depends on it, his fingers digging into your sides and his tongue in your mouth. you almost forget your in public until he pulls you back up 

he gives you a little breathless grin, patting your cheek with his hand and telling you “get cleaned up, dumbass” which is his way of telling you to get home safe. 

and you do get to your empty dorm. you take a shower and just kinda reflect on the actualy fuck transpired cause you were pretty positive he wanted you in a casket but?!?!?! you fucked him and he kissed you? so ???? 

youre in the middle of your exams and you’re honestly tired since you got fucked within in an inch of your life so you shower and just.. go to sleep. in his hoodie cause it smells good and it’s big and comfy and you’re like... thinking about it really hard but it just makes your headache. 

you conclude after a lot of tossing and turning that he’s probably still just trying to fuck around with you and maybe thinks you’re an easy lay.  you can’t say you aren’t since you were willing and ready for him (the thought of how easily you gave in has you flustered) 

you sleep, eventually. and you wake up the next morning not really expecting much. you don’t have bkgs number or anything so you just.. continue with your day as is. unlucky for you - you have classes with bakugou and kirishima 

but you don’t think it’ll be all that different. still so non-chalant. and you go to class that day dressed normally - with bakugous hoodie in hand. 

you sit in your regular seat that day and this is your first mistake. 

kirishima is in class before bakugou is. and he is.. as always, a little shit. so he pulls up right beside you because even though bkg is pissed at kiri - they are besties so he tells him everything. kirishima wont tease you abt it and u still think kirishima is quite nice and handsome so you’re pleased to greet him. 

ah.. another mistake on your behalf. this action WILL have consequences. 

kirishima gets so cozy with you btw. he loves that you’re so comfy w him - strokes his ego so good. and he chats you up for a better part of the hour before your morning class. 

he makes jokes and smiles and laughs and thinks about how easy it would be snatch you from bakugou and keep you to himself. he’s not good enough of a person to leave you alone. 

aaah kirishima is a sweetheart and he treats you well. so when you feel his hand on your thigh underneath the table - rubbing little circles into your knee, you don’t even notice. and when he gets super close to you to hear you talk - telling you your voice is too soft even tho a class is empty, you let him. 

and when you point out that ppl keep staring and whispering you, he tells you to ignore them and you do. you ignore the whispers and even the click of camera. 

it’s only when you hear bakugou that you get a strange feeling in your gut. he stomps into the classroom - vicious. his schedule is so busy he normally doesn’t get to lounge around before class making sure to keep everything tight 

but he got..  many messages about how you and kirishima were seating today. mostly from kami who likes to cause problems - he decided he should get there a lil early 

well.. lo and behold he does - and he finds you and kirishima looking incredibly cozy with each other. and kirishima being.. kirishima - is the first to see him and he shoots his beloved friend the most smug fuckin smile. 

bkg is pissed, naturally and stomps his way over to the two of you. he’s doing the thing again where he’s icy mad. he doesn’t even bother w kirishima and there’s a whole crowd around the three of you. 

“get your shit,” he demands, clearly seething. you give him a wild look, noticing the now obvious tension before being completely confused.  you’re about to protest w him but he sends you a spine-chillingly glare. 

your whole class watches as he yanks you by the wrist out of the classroom as kirishima sits back and gives u a little wave. ur lost. obviously. and once you leave the classroom ur like “where are we going?” 

the answer is to bakugous very nice car - a custom c3 corvette. he opens the door and stares you, grabbing your bags and taking them to the trunk. but u stand ur ground, cross your arms over your chest like 

“what are we doing out here?” 

bkg doesn’t hesitate in pushing you up against his car, his hands on your waist and his teeth nipping at your neck - sore from old bruises. and you gasp when you feel his fingers dig into your hips, all tongue and teeth. 

“the fuck did i say about you cozyin’ up t’ that shitty haired bastard yesterday,” 

this makes you swallow because bakugous mouth is travelling further and further and his hands are getting more bold. and you shiver, something hot and heavy in your core cause fuck he’s so possesive over you. it makes you dizzy, something sticky and warm in you. 

“i.. i d-didn’t think you were being s..serious yesteryday” 

he growls a little against your throat. 

“guess i’ll have to teach you another lesson. im gonna get in the car and then you are. easy enough, nerd?” 

you can’t do anything but nod and watch him open the car doors. when he gets in you follow and within the blink of an he manuevers you till your over his lap. you let out a loud yelp as his strong hands come down on your ass. still clothed. 

you let out a soft yelp - a noise of surprise at the sudden sensation and you feel bkg bend down to speak in your ear. 

“wanna act like a fuckin’ brat and flirt with your boyfriends friends? fine. i’ll fuck that shitty ass attitude right out of you,” 

the firs thing you think is “boyfriend?!” but your voice gets muffled when you feel bakugou pull down your bottoms along with your panties. his hands are so strong and so big - long thick fingers covered in callouses from playing so many games. you can’t help but squirm under his touch, a growing wetness making your stomach clench. 

he’s so so mean about it yk? a big strong hand smacking against your ass hard enough to leave a handprint. he chuckles when you whine, when your body shivers - bare cunt expose to him and nothing else. a wave of humilation floods through you. 

“‘s not my fault you’re like this y’know? all you gotta do is follow instructions - i know you now how to fucking do that, right? always bein’ so prissy,” ― bakugou tsks, smacking your ass hard before spreading your cheeks out. he admires the way your cunt trembles with mean laugh ― “but you wanna go flirt with shitty hair that much, huh?” 

you’re gonna protest and tell him it’s not even like that.. which makes you question why’re so eager to go with his demands. but the words get lost as the sound of spanks slowly drift and it’s just bakugou admiring your ass. he didn’t really get a good chance too when he was fucking you yesterday but now he’s got eagles on you n your pretty little cunt. 

“never gonna let anyone touch your pretty little pussy but fuckin’ me,” ― and he groans, sliding his fingers through your folds ― “fuck.. fuck” 

you’re not expecting much but within another few seconds you’ve got your cheek pressed to the glass window, ass up and body folded with your cunt directly in bkgs face. you’re not rlly sure why this was happening because you were sure you were getting punished. and maybe the humilation of having your face pressed to glass is enough 

but it doesn’t negate the fact bkg is tongue deep in your cunt. both hands massaging your ass - spreading your lips apart so he can get into fucking deeper. sliding his tongue against your folds and slurping on your clit until you’re jolting with pleasure like you’ve never known before in your life. you’re moaning so loud the whole campus could probably fucking hear but bkg doesn’t care and doesn’t stop 

and your thighs give out, he goes from eat it from the back to getting underneath you and has you sitting on his face. you just keep cumming and bakugou is rock fucking hard - but he doesn’t even bother jerking himself off. he spends all of his time n effort worshipping your sweet cunt  

you cum on his face so many times you’re completely limp by the time he sticks his dick in you. but it feels so good when he does that too - oversenstive walls stretched out his big cock, a hand on your sides as he shifts you into missionary. 

he doesn’t even intend to make you cum again but the position has him so deep in your cervix that you do and he’s so close. and when bkgs close, he’s fucking obscene. 

but it’s not all that vulgar like you’re expecting and that makes you fucking whine. hearing bakugou praise you and your pussy does something terrible to your brain and in your fucked out haze - arms around his shoulders, you’re fucking whimpering. 

and bkgs just in your ear like 

“such a sweet fuckin’ girl for me, taking my dick so damn good, haah fuck. all mind. know how to behave when i fuck you like this don’t you? be a good girl and take it all.. there you go, just like that,” 

when he cums inside of you he stays there for a while and stares at your completely gone expression. it’s unusually soft and you wont see it often but he grabs your face and kisses you hard 

“you’re my girlfriend now you fuckin’ dweeb so start fuckin’ acting like it yeah?” 

you whine and nod, unable to refuse even if u want too 

“yeah..yeah” 

[sningo-prompts]

Something slightly less angsty: Maybe Ingo and Emmet's pokemon can see how a lot of humans look at Ingo, and they decide to help him learn how to use moves to defend himself better.

Excadrill and archeops can show him how to use his claws properly. Excadrill knows poison jab, and at least three others have various other poison moves, so they can show him how to use his in an actual attack. Gurdurr can help with fighting type moves, and nearly all of them should be able to help him with the basics, like quick attack.

He's not going to become some master battler in the span of only a few weeks, but at least he wont be entirely defenseless in a one on one anymore.

Ok i have been dying to make another post tonight but im gonna apologise now. I actually uhh dont know their full teams and i hardly know anything about pokemon at all. So this isnt going to be the best. Like i wont be able to make a lost of the moves he uses or anything. Ill do my best for you though <3 since all anons are my children and i love them.

So maybe Emmet takes to having one of their team always out with Ingo after a while. He isnt an idiot he can too see how people eye Ingo and he hates it. His pokemon though they can see it even clearer since they know how humans normally look at them. It puts whoever is out with Ingo on edge most of the time. Maybe one day while Ingo and Emmet are out at uhh pokemon park? Like a dog park? Their pokemon come up with the idea of teaching Ingo some moves to defend himself. I wanna say they are all huddled up together discussing it. Ingo isnt gonna be with them because hes chillin with Emmet. So its like a surprise in a way. They are all very eager to help their trainer. They decided to let Ingo pick what moves he should learn since he and Emmet picked all of theirs. So now all they have left is figuring out how to bring it up. They agree Chandelure should ask since they have been with him the longest.

Ingo is hesitant at first but they make a great point on him needing to be able to defend himself so he agrees. They are very excited. I think they do this while at the station maybe. Emmet is 100% gonna watch so while hes waiting on the next battle all of a sudden on of their pokemon are out and chittering away with Ingo. Emmet is very much so not jealous thank you. Emmet is of course curious about what they are planning. Maybe hes worried when he sees the first attack but since its not directed at Ingo hes ok. That is until Ingo copies them and does the attack himself. Now Emmet is very excited. Watching tentatively as Ingo learns a move. Its slow going at first but Ingo is a quick learner and soon enough hes got his moveset. They are all so excited that they wanna have a mock battle with him. Hes a bit excited too so he agrees. To test his new moves out. Emmet was verrry worried when an attack was directed right at Ingo but thanks to his time in Hisui Ingo is fantastic at dodging. Its a fun battle though everyone is holding back. They dont wanna hurt Ingo and he surely doesnt want to hurt them. So its mostly just play fighting. Everyone freezes when Emmet cheers at their battle. Of course it doesnt last long as one of them finally managed to land an attack on Ingo. Who just jumps up and the battle is back on. The air is filled with laughter as they taunt one another. Emmet is so happy to see his brother having so much fun along with their team. Yes he to wishes to join the fun but hes a bit big for that. Though maybe w sense Emmet wants to join in and all tackle him down. Its a full in dog pile. They all have a great time wrestling with Emmet too. That is until the next trainer comes in to find Emmet on the ground swarmed by his own pokemon. (I kinda wanna draw that shot) everyone just freezes in place while Emmet and the trainer make eye contact. Its Ingo who starts laughing (i wanted to say giggling but its not right. Almost like hes trying to conceal his laughter) that breaks the awkward silence. Quickly everyone gets up and returns, minus Ingo who takes a seat behind Emmet, while Emmet dusts himself off and straitens his hat. He starts his speech as if the trainer hadnt just seen him on the ground playing with his pokemon like a school kid. All in all weird day for that person. I think Emmet is hard to embarrass tbh so he just moves past it and acts like nothing happened.

Later Ingo and Emmet optimism Ingos move set im sure. Also Ingo gets to battle Emmet with his own team again. I like the idea that Ingos first time battling again is at that welcome back party the staff threw so this isnt the first. Though hes way better at battling now than before since hes got a better understand on how it feels to use those moves. He can even train his own team better ways to dodge. I dont think Emmet would be very ok with Ingo being in the battle but maybe down the line on of his pokemon want to try and lead so he joins their party. Which is super cute. Because now Ingo is giving tips to his own pokemon on leading other pokemon in battle. Now they have a whole buch of pokemon who can lead a battle instead of a trainer. Lord help the public if they ever do this on the subway. Their pokemon dint know the meaning of holding back.

Ok sorry i think this got very sidetracked since i cant remember the ask anymore. I hope you dont mind i didnt call off any of their pokemon by name since i uhhh cant remember them. I know chandelure but thats because i loved Litwick and all its evolutions the moment i saw them. Its funny that Chandelure ended up being my fav pokemon and being Ingos ace. Probably why i like him so much. I have no idea what game they released in but it was like love at first sight. The moment i saw their evolution line i fell. Plus litwick is baby <3

[hxneekyuu]

accidental kiss || tsukishima kei, ennoshita chikara, miya atsumu, lev haiba

request :  Hey Can I request a headcanon or one shot with Haikyuu characters (any of your choices) having an accidental kiss with their crush, you know, the cliché romance scene in drama's where the girl fell and male catches her and end ups kissing, or something when the girl turn around not noticing the close distance between the male, and their lips touches. Anything that is accidental

warnings : miya atsumu, Suna Gets a Haircut

a/n : so i did one of those random hq generator things bc i could only decide on one boi and that was tsukki,,, the results made me laugh so here you go -- btw these are all gonna be pre-dating bc thats just wonderful we love that

tsukishima kei

this is definitely all tsukkis fault

you two are at your house just vibing and at some point you head into the kitchen to make food

and hes leaning against the counter right in front of the cabinet you need to get to

but he has the audacity not to move the fuck outta the way when you tell him you need to get past 

so youre like ok fuck it and just reach around him to open it 

but the bowl you need is pretty high up so youre like on your tippy toes tryna get the damn thing and hes just sitting there watching you struggle 

instead of helping you like he isnt damn near 6′3″

but riiiiight as youve got the bowl, you end up grabbing it a little too forcefully and you bring like a million dishes down with it 

so ofc even though he definitely deserves it, youre not trying to concuss the poor guy with literal ceramic dishes raining down on him 

so you kinda lunge forward to stop them all from falling 

and, hearing the crash of dishes over his head, he naturally ducks because he doesnt want to die

honestly,,,, its more of a crash of your noses and foreheads but theres such chaos of like,,, trying not to die?? 

that at some point you just feel his mouth on yours and it deadass just stays there while you both are figuring out what the hell is happening 

eventually he kinda pulls back but only a little bc he knows youre struggling to hold onto the dishes and he doesnt wanna screw that up

and he doesnt even say anything he just reaches up awkwardly and helps you set the dishes back on the shelf

and then he grabs the bowl youd been trying the get the entire time and hands it to you with a completely blank face 

its a very awkward dinner im not gonna lie

mostly bc at some point he just starts cracking jokes about it and refuses to acknowledge it seriously bc he sucks

ennoshita chikara

ennoshita’s taking a break from studying with the second years on the team

mostly bc he never gets any studying done with them 

so youre studying together for a test at his house

and its just been many many hours of studying so ofc youre both exhausted

so its not surprising to him when you just pass out on your notes

but the thing is,,, your heads right on top of a sheet that he needs

and for a while he just kinda studies without it

he studies other stuff and tries to remember it on his own so he can fill in the gap in his notes

but eventually hes like fuck i really need these notes

so he just,,, tries to slide it out from under your head really carefully

and it involves a lot of him getting really close and trying to lift your head and a bunch of really soft cute things that would be super embarrassing for him to be caught doing

like,,, if you happened to wake up

which of course, you do

and youre really confused bc you can feel his breath fanning over your face and his eyes are really close but not focused on you, theyre focused on smth under your face

so you lift your head to see what hes doing

but he freaks out and moves his face when he notices youre awake

and its just a litto brush of your lips over his as your faces are passing each other

but the poor bub jumps back like you just shocked the crap out of him

and then he apologizes for like the next ten minutes and its impossible to get back to studying bc youre both just panicking internally

miya atsumu

this literally happens like it does in the movies

it all starts with a chase scene

that really you should never have been a part of

youre just minding your business walking down the hall after school on your way to get your stuff

and its pretty empty bc you had a club thing so its late afternoon and no ones around

and you just hear it

men screaming

and then he appears, barreling around the corner like his life depends on it

and youre like

this cant be good

and when he sees you hes yelling out for you like HELP ME 

but you somehow always manage to get caught in the miya twin antics so youre like

fuck no im out

but apparently youre not out bc atsumus grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him yelling smth about scissors and a haircut

and when you look back you just see suna rounding the corner, half of his little triangle haircut chopped off so he looks like a sad half onigiri,,,

but you know it was atsumu and that this man is definitely dead when suna catches him

so youre like okay fuck it i guess im helping him AGAIN 

and you get outside to a section of the school where theres still sports teams practicing and lots of people around so you hide in a corner together

but the Suna Energy is approaching so atsumu fuckin freaks and does that cheesy movie thing where he ducks his head down so he wont be seen 

but theres like a group of guys passing by and one of them just bumps into atsumus back and that shit just sends him right into you

and all he can think is “oops”

he only has one brain cell give him a break

but he just stalls completely and forgets about the whole suna thing

but ofc his hair is fucking piss yellow and suna has not forgotten

he ends up totally getting his ass beat  but after that little smooch atsumus definitely a bit keen to see you more often 

lev haiba

i fucking love this gif look at the litto shoyou go

this tall babie does not know the meaning of personal space he has no functional understanding of a Bubble

honestly he probably gets dangerously close to kissing you on a regular basis, considering you’re seatmates in class

he’s just ALWAYS in your space

at first he’s probably shy bc he doesn’t know you

but once you become friends he’s like THIS IS NOT YOUR DESK THIS IS JUST MY SECOND DESK

so every day there’s always one thing that’s super dangerous

last week it was him looking over your shoulder while you did work silently

yesterday it was him reaching across you to open the window on your left side

today he just really wants a bite of the bread you bought and are currently already eating

and when he wants smth, he gets Very Whiny

he’s so clingy and adorable that you can’t ever get mad

he’s like a little puppy how can you resist him

so when you’re finally like okay fine you can have a bite he’s like

MONCH

he doesn’t even wait for you to tear off a piece he just leans in for a bite

but you had said yes while in the middle of biting it so he essentially does that thing where you’re both biting it at the same time

but, again, he doesn’t know what personal space means

so he also doesn’t have the ability to gauge distances well

so he straight up just meets you halfway and presses his mouth to yours while he’s biting down

the boi probably doesn’t even notice

he just pulls back quickly once he has his bite and goes about his life

you literally are going to have to tell him he just kissed you

and after that he’s a total fucking mess

he doesn’t know what to do he never knows what to do

he’s just going to keep causing Chaos while he panics

[secret-keeper18]

So I’m finally watching the x-men movies and here are my comments and ratings so far. These ratings are completely arbitrary and completely based on how much fun I had while watching it. Also some great memes I made and sent to my roommates who dont appreciate it as much as you all will.

X-Men: First Class

Okay so we pirated this and there was no subtitles for foreign language, and about 30% of it is in German, French, Spanish, or Russian. So my understanding of these scenes was reliant solely on my rudimentary understanding of basic phrases, vocab, and counting in each of these languages

Watching Erik fuckin murder nazis while casually taking a drink of beer

Also I love Michael Fassbender but i feel like Erik’s character should have a german accent. Can’t complain too much though ngl

They went to a strip club and literally only looked at each other like sorry i dont make the rules but that is not heterosexual

I’m new to these movies so I hope I don’t offend any like, Mystique stans but Raven you win World’s Worst Sister. like bro doesnt wanna see ur tits out he doesnt care that you’re blue OKAY he’s ur brother. I’m just saying if my brother got shot in the spine by his boyfriend i wouldnt leave him lying in the sand to ditch him with said boyfriend idk maybe i’m just built different

Charles fuckin waits for Erik and Raven to leave before saying he can’t feel his legs. Anyways who else wants to cry? 🙃

Barely passes Bechdel test but loses points for immediately killing the only black man character and then have the only black woman character turn traitor 🤷🏻‍♀️

My guy decided to betray his boyfriend then break the woman he almost killed and then arrested out of prison. Then sometime inbetween those two events he decided “i need... a cape.” And then he STUCK TO THE CAPE for the next like forty years. Imagine being so stubborn you stick to the same purple and maroon color scheme for half your life.

Pretty gay. Friends to lovers to enemies. Utterly heartbreaking. 12/10

X-Men: Wolverine Origins

Honestly not as bad as I was expecting but that might be bc I’ve only heard negative things

This movie honestly was one big middle finger to my ADHD bc the pacing was kinda weird

Damn i hope we get Remy in the other movies his powers are hella cool in this

Deadpool who? Never heard of him he doesnt exist.

Oh yeah I think there is something called a wo-man in this movie?

3/10

X-Men

Knowing that this movie is from 2000 really made it palatable tbh. Like, surprisingly good considering it came out a month after I was born

Why do i got a feeling that Charles is gonna be so useless in the next like three movies

I forgot movies before like 2016 couldnt write women for shit. Jean is to the X-Men what Black Widow is to the Avengers tbh. Love the characters and their potential, but played with the emotional range of a teaspoon

Also Scott is pretty cool but why is his only lines about his girlfriend? Like calm down bro.

I’m so here for Dad Wolverine tbh. Like my guy really was just like:

Somehow despite having many female leads it still doesnt pass the Bechdel Test???

8/10

X2

Gonna be honest here. I was making dinner while watching this, so I was only like half present.

Bobby “coming out” to his family is just *chef’s kiss*

Kinda boring conflict ngl but I’m here for the characters at this point

Magneto murdering someone w the iron in their blood is fuckin metal as hell. No pun intended.

The moment Rogue sees Magneto for the first time since he tried to kill her in the last movie and she about to take her gloves off deceased me on the fuckin spot. Bitch really said call an ambulance but not for me.

Anyways Charles is one of the most powerful characters in the comics but he has once again been relegated to plot device in this movie. I get it, I get it, mentor character. He could fix every problem in these movies if he wasn’t such a liberal about his powers :/

I’m so SICK of the silent and dangerous Asian assassin character archetype. Yes I KNOW it was 2003 so let’s take this as yet another reminder that we need to do better

Okay ik we’re not supposed to know that Mystique is his sister yet bc it’s only 2003 and First Class wont come out for another eight years but STILL yall really left him in there to die can you NOT

Also real question: was i supposed to be sad that Jean died?

5/10

[corysmiles]

Human Schlatt it is! We can have someone else potentially be a mean giant, I know Dreams an easy choice but I think itd be funnier if they were scared of Dreams reaction to Techno and then it turns out Dream somehow has a way of visiting the human world and is actually a fan of Technos and very surprised to see his idol whos a human living with a family of giants.

So some exposition real quick: when Tommy miscalculated and ran out of potions and Techno had to rush him out of town when he grew in the middle of a human town? Stories of that event are often treated as made up or exaggerated, Techno denying it whenever asked doesn't help people figure out the truth. 

Schlatt runs a black market company, they sell many things including exotic creatures and monsters for whatever the buyer wants. A pet, colosseum fodder, a meal, he doesn't care as long as it doesnt come back to bite him.

Exposition done!

•Schlatt was investigating the rumors of the giant that no one knew what Techno did with, just that he returned without a scratch. He ends up figuring out that those three hanging out with Techno when hes around for a tournament by stealing one of the potions he keeps seeing them drink and testing it on an animal, discovering its a shrinking potion. 

•You can decide how but he sends he gets Techno alone and sends his cronies to kidnap the vulnerable temporarily human sized giants, he tricks Techno into drinking the shrinking potion he stole somehow (maybe mixing it into a drink) and tries to capture the shrunken Techno to kill, but Technos lived with giant for months now and gets away after stabbing Schlatts hand.

•Schlatt still has the rest of sbi though, and hes got them locked away in chains that are enchanted for shapeshifters so they will grow once with them when their potions wear off.

•He happily monologues to his latest catch how hes already got so many buyers interested in buying one of them to stick into a colosseum or underground fighting ring, enjoying their various reactions of anger and fear.

•Wilbur probably tries phasing out of his chains a couple times but the cronies watching them keep fucking him up when he tries, eventually hes in too much pain to phase anymore. Phil and Tommy are very worried about him but cant escape their own bonds to check on him.

•Techno meanwhile is in a familiar but far worse situation. Hes tiny but hasnt got time to wait the potion out, he has to somehow get to his family and save them while avoiding all the dangers of being tiny in the middle of a busy human town, avoiding being seen at the same time because these people will recognize him as The Technoblade whos supposed to be in a tournament right now and the chances they wont take advantage of him are very very small.

•There's also the concern of whos potion wears off first, because if it's Phil, Tommy, and Wilburs then Technos now the size of an ant to them and kinda screwed.

Obviously this ends with him getting to them and rescuing them, and Schlatts ass getting beat (maybe by Techno while hes still tiny for extra salt in the wound) and they get out of there, but I wanna hear what ideas you have for the rest of this >:)

Your awesome and I cant wait for part 8 of hunted!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

-❤ anon

Yesssss I love this so much >:]

I think he could get Techno alone by calling him in for an “interview” before his competition. Techno agrees since he gets interviewed all the time, but when he gets there and drinks some of the juice they offered he starts to feel...weird. Before he knows what’s happening he’s smaller than the cup he had just drank from. That’s also when about three or four other people show up in full armour to catch him

If techno is stuck tiny and Schlatt is paying attention to the giants he might even be able to get into the locks to break them free before Schlatt even notices. However, his giant friends are way too exhausted and hurt to fight (especially Wilbur) so Techno climbs Schlatt to attack his face. There’s lots of eye poking and stabbing, and it’s enough of a distraction that the giants have time to get out

I think it’s fun if the giant’s potion wears off first and they just think Schlatt is having a heart attack or something (hahaha) because they can’t see Techno fighting him. Then when Techno climbs up onto Phil’s face to yell at him they finally realize what happened...it’s just hard to protect Techno when they can’t see him.

[imagineurfavs]

Astro - Cha Eunwoo A-Z

Who deleted all their requests before pasting it into here...?? ...this bitch...

----------

A - Aftercare Aftercare usually just consists of taking a super quick shower and changing the sheets if necessary. It’s very much a joint thing; he does stuff for you, but he expects some care in return lmao

B - Body Part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner) On himself he likes his eyes, he’s a sucker for deep eye contact as he pushes himself into you. On his s/o he likes their thighs/butt, the softer the better lol.

C - Cum He can get a little messy when he cums, which he’s honestly not a fan of. So he prefers to finish inside you purely for ease of clean up. Doesn’t mind using a condom, to him its just the most convenient.

D - Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs) He has quite a lot of more dominant tendencies that he tries not to show too much just bc it doesn’t fit too well with his “flower boy” image, but anyone that knows Dongmin knows that he can have quite a bit of a temper (he is an aries after all lol). So he sees sex as a perfect outlet for all that pent up stress that he can’t let out anywhere else, a place where he can finally be the one setting the rules, not following them. 

E - Experience This is a tricky one...it’s no secret that he’s incredibly popular with the ladies; but he’s also a lot more shy than he usually appears, not to mention how busy he always is. He’s got a little experience, but he’s by no means an expert lol

F - Favourite Position Usually just ends up being missionary with your legs thrown over his shoulder. That way he can maintain eye contact and set the pace as much as he wants.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous etc) Really not that goofy in the moment, he really gets in the zone and is definitely on the more serious side. It’s afterwards, when y'all are finally cleaned up and settled that he lets his soft ass self come out

H - Hair (how well groomed are they) I don’t think it’s something he’d really pay too much attention to. He wont let it get too out of control, but it’s not a priority lmao

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect) Eeeeh...I don’t think he’d be all that intimate tbh. He thinks it’s a given how he feels, otherwise he wouldn’t be sleeping with you. So he doesn’t really see the need to outwardly show any emotions in the moment, when he’s busy focusing on the task at hand lol.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation) Boy does it alot lol, it’s his favourite way to de-stress. You can almost guarantee before any big event or TV appearance that he’ll take himself off to the bathroom and go at it lol

K - Kinks (one of more of their kinks) A lil bit of pain; biting, spanking etc. Nothing that hurts a crazy amount but stuff that’ll for sure leave a mark. There’s nothing he finds sexier than watching a red hand print appear on your butt. He likes receiving this kinda stuff as well, aside from maybe the spanking, but he loves being bitten, scratched, etc...just keep it somewhere it wont be seen.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do) Literally just the bedroom. That’s it. He’ll try it out in as many different places in said room; in the bed, on the floor, against the wall, on the desk etc but it has to stay in the bedroom.

M - Motivation (What turns them on) Loves it when you touch his thighs, even if it’s just in passing or even accidental, it riles him up so much lol. He loves it when he catches you staring at him from across the room too, bonus points if there’s a lot of people around, you can bet that he’ll be eye fucking you right back lol

N - NO (something they won't do, turn offs) Absolutely nothing that involves even anything slightly public. He doesn’t wanna risk any part of his private life getting out, largely for the sake of your privacy also. Everything saucy happens behind closed doors...alone...probably with the door locked also.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) He’s so messy with it omfg. He loves to make soooo much noise when he goes down on you like it’s honestly enough to make you blush lord almighty, he really goes out of his way to make the most lewd noises. Highkey loves going down on you for that exact reason, he likes to make you all bashful and embarrassed lmao. When receiving he likes to just lay back and let you do what you want to him lol.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc) He tends to keep more of a steady medium pace, but on certain days he can for sure get super rough...hold on tight lmao. He keeps a vice grip on your hips, there’ll always been tiny little marks left there from his fingertips.

Q - Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) He wasn’t always a fan of quickies, but he’s grown to like them a lot more bc sometimes they're the only option. He’ll still only see them as a last resort though, if either of you have got somewhere to be but reeeeally can’t wait any longer.

R - Risk (are they down to experiment, do they take risks?) Nooooooope nope not down at all, sorry. Although, if you can promise him that it’ll be fun, and it wont leave the bedroom, then he might me down...maybe...but most likely not.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go, how long do they last? etc) I feel like he’s a one and done kinda guy lol. The rounds would be pretty average in length, but you’ll only get one out of him

T - Toy (do they own toys do they use them on a partner or on themselves?) Doesn’t own a whole lot, mainly bc he just doesn’t see the point, “why buy something to do what you could just do yourself...?” The most he might buy would maybe be some super fancy silk ties to use on you...they’d have to be super pretty though, can’t forget the aesthetic lol

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease) He’s SUCH a tease. He deliberately takes his time with every move he makes prior to actual sex lol, foreplay with Dongmin is a lengthy process lol. He loves testing your patience, watching you get more and more frustrated with him.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what type of sounds they make) He mainly makes more whimpery kinda noises and sighs. He can get pretty loud, but he’ll only let himself get loud if you are as well, he doesn’t wanna be the only one making noise.

W - Wild Card (a random headcannon) Is a bratty dom a thing? Bc that’s the energy Dongmin gives me lol. Like, as opposed to giving you any form of punishment if you dont listen to him, he’ll get kinda whiny and annoying. He for sure has a lil bit of a prince complex lol, like he wants to almost be kinda served and worshipped, and will definitely get bratty if he doesn’t get his way...

X - X-ray (what's going on inside those pants) Average in length, maybe a tiny bit thicker

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive) Honestly, I dont really think it’s all that high. BUT with that being said, when he does get in the mood, it happens all at once and very intensely sdsdg 

Z - Zzz... (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He’ll stay awake for a while afterwards. Depending on the time of day, he’s perfectly happy to get up and go do stuff, he doesn’t get too sleepy afterwards.  If you wanna sleep though, he’s more than happy to settle down and drift off with you 

[fuckyeahharryhart]

KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE, IN MY AU, HARRY HART WOULD STILL BE A BADASS WHEN THEY FIND OUT HE’S ALIVE. HE’S JUST A BAD ASS WITH NO MEMORY

IN MY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - this is what happened when they found Harry. And Roxy is alive, cause “what the hell?” And basically is an excuse for me to thirst on Colin Firth as Harry Hart, who will always be a badass gentleman spy, memory or no.

Merlin, Eggsy and Roxy survived the explosions that destroyed Kingsman. Following the clues from their doomsday protocol, the three of them traveled to Kentucky to Statesman HQ.

They are confronted by Agent Tequila where they try to explain what they are doing there. Tequila does not believe them. He disarms and disables them. The scene begins in Statesman underground holding room. Roxy, Eggsy and Merlin wake up to find that they are bound and restrained.

(apologies in advance for grammar, spelling, format. First draft, secondish draft. Just did one quick read-through and fixed most of the glaring errors.

PS I kinda nerded out with the amnesia and weapons research) 

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

The room remained vague and shadowy. Eggsy fought against a heaviness that kept his eyes closed. He tried again to blink them open. No such luck. They were uncooperative. Moving on. Assessing what little he could, he tested the restraints that bound him to a cold metal chair both at the wrists and ankles. Zip ties. Cheap and easy, but harder to release from than traditional handcuffs. He tried anyway. And then a second time, only with more force. Nothing. He willed himself to relax. If he couldn’t get free with brute force, it was time to get creative. Switch to strategy and problem solving. At least try to figure out what the hell was going on and why a souped up cowboy was holding them hostage. 

His training, his instincts wanted to kick in regardless of the fact that he was restrained. He ran through his checklist anyway. Scan and clear the room. Assess the threat. Spot entrances and exits. Locate the nearest weapon. It didn’t necessarily need to be a gun. Any object that could possibly disable an enemy would suffice.

It was infuriating that he was unable to proceed with his training. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It was a moot point anyway, nothing of him seemed to be responding to his commands. His surroundings remained a bleary haze. His brain still foggy, was trying to catch up.

The renegade cowboy that had disarmed and disabled Eggsy, Roxy and Merlin, was waiting rather patiently for them to wake up. That is, until the point he was no longer patient and decided to empty a bottle of perfectly good whiskey on Eggsy and Merlin. As he considered himself a gentleman, he spared Roxy.

 It was unsettling how he took the three of them down so easily. Eggsy reasoned that they certainly weren’t at their best. Shit had gone down in the last 24 hours and they were damn tired.

Eggsy and Merlin sputtered in protest. 

“So good of you to join us.” The cowboy’s tone was relaxed and untroubled.

He took a casual stance and leaned up against the wall like he was just waiting for something interesting to happen.

His head cocked to the right. “Now where was I?”

 Nodding to himself, “Oh yeah”, he said, as if he just remembered something fascinating. His fingers snapped together with a sharp click. “You were just about to tell me who ya’ll were and how the hell you found us.” He mentioned this as if he were waiting for them to describe what they ate for breakfast and whether or not they had enjoyed it.

The disparity between his gregarious tone, his friendly manner, and the slightly hostile glint in his eyes was disconcerting.

He crossed his legs on the other side and tipped his head to the left.

“Anytime ya’ll are ready to start talkin’, Im all ears.”

They had already tried to explain what happened to their headquarters. Well, their tailor shop backstop. How likely was it that generations of tailors had passed down a secret doomsday protocol for survivors in case of complete destruction? Of their tailor shop? Eggsy had to admit, as a story, it positively wreaked implausibility. But it was true, aside from replacing their secret intelligence agency with a bespoke suit business. 

From the cowboys perspective, it would seem kind of insulting that they expected the him to buy their story. Actually, It would seem pretty insulting to expect anyone with the most basic cognitive skills believe it. The problem was that, as ridiculous as story was, it was, in fact, the truth.

Eggsy didn’t have any more to say. Roxy, who would probably take him down if given half the chance, wisely remained quiet. Merlin’s furrowed brow meant that he most likely had a bloody lot to say, but nothing that would improve their situation. 

They had reached an impasse. 

The cowboy regarded them thoughtfully from under his Stetson, wide brimmed hat. 

“We don’t have folks from your neck of the woods in these parts that often.” His lips pursed in thought.

“I would reckon once every year or so, some might pass through here that sound like y’all. Why,” nodding his head confirming his own information. “I think it was just about a year ago, we had someone drop in unexpectedly.” 

He gazed up and to the right, as if recalling a memory. Maybe y’ll know him.” He said, his eyes falling back on them.

Merlin. “I highly doubt that.”

The cowboy drew back slightly, irked by their obstinance. These brits were stubborn as all get out. Did they seriously expect him to believe their doomsday protocol story? What was this? Were they on some kind of scavenger hunt?

“I just find it awfully convenient that you just “happened” to find this bottle of whiskey with our name on it. Right after your entire “shop” exploded with ALL it’s employees and everyone who worked there. Every single person who knows you, gone with it. That would be mighty upsettin’ if I was in ya’lls shoes.” He tried on a little sympathy for size. Nope, didn’t fit. He continued with his slight undertone of sarcasm. 

 “Can’t even make a call to see if anyone can vouch for y’alls.” Such a shame, he thought. Alrightly, he’d just keep talkin’ at ‘em until one of them slipped up or said something interesting.

He could talk into the night for all he cared. “Not even anythin’ left to take with you. Except a couple of watches that can unlock a biometric security system.” Now this was legitimately irritating. 

“Why would some little ole tailors shop need to have a biometric security system? I mean, ya’ll look mighty fine in them suits and spectacles, but sorry to say, not that fine.”

He used this opportunity to break out one of his favourite southern idioms. “You see, that dog don’t hunt.” He amused himself.

“Look.” Said the Scotsman. “We have no idea what you are talking about. The only reason we are here is because we found one of your bottles.” 

He nodded his head in understanding, before pressing his lips together, this time doubtfully twisting them to the side.

“See, here’s the thing. Lots and lots of folks have our bottles. Ain’t none of them ever broken into our maximum security “warehouse” before.”

“You’re looking for the Brit, ain’t ya? “His eyes narrowed. “And now why would that be?”

Merlin’s brow furrowed even deeper. “We still don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was reaching the far ends of his exasperation. “We do not know anyone here. Quite sorry to say, but we have never heard of Statesmen before. In our part of the world, we prefer a single malt scotch. No offence.”

“None taken.” He said pleasantly.

The cowboy pushed himself off the wall.

“Well,” he huffed, “It seems we’re at a stalemate.”

The cowboy continued to study them as he spoke.

“Ya’ll telling’ me a story you say is the truth.”

He shook his head in disappointment, feigning sadness. “And I just don’t believe ya. Now we could go round n round like this until we’re all blue in the face. But that sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“If we ain’t getting anywhere like this, might be time to switch things up a bit?”

“Ya’ll say you don’t know the Brit. But I’m thinkin’ y’all should talk to him. Might be able to make some sense out of what’s comin’ out of your mouth ‘cause I just don’t get it.”

Silence from the three of them. Well, weren’t they a stubborn bunch. 

The man sighed dramatically and shrugged his wide shoulders. 

“Well, it appears you wont be cooperatin’ with me. I think it’s about time ya’ll talk to someone else cause I sure aint getting’ nowhere with ya. But I don’t know if you’re gonna wanna talk to him.”  

He regarded them sympathetically. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that table when he’s the one asking questions. Ya’ll might be wish’n to see my pretty face again.”

Three almost identically frustrated faces looked back at him.

“Word is round here, don’t matter what you won’t say to me.” 

He started ambling across in front of them, from wall to wall in slow, measured steps. 

“What matters is what y’all gonna to say to HIM.” He stopped mid-stride, turned toward them. 

“Now, I’ve seen him doin’ his thing, right?  Believe me, he’ll have ya talkin’ in ways you can’t even imagine.” He continued along his thoughtful line, turning away from them.

He began to let the heel of his boots scuff the floor with every step. “You wont even be able to shut up, ya’ll talk so much.” He spoke over his shoulder. “ Tellin’ him things you ain’t even tell your mama.”

No response from the three Kingsman.

He turned toward Roxy. “My apologies little lady, but here at Statesman?  Guys and gals? We’re all on equal footing.” He had the gall to wink at her. “No matter what our name says.” 

He hooked his thumbs under this belt and hitched the whole get up, flask holster and all, up his non existent hips. 

“I hate to see a pretty miss like you have to go down with the likes of them.” He tilted his head in the direction of Merlin and Eggsy. “But, at Statesman, no special treatment for the fillies.”

Roxy proceeded to murder him with her eyes.

Absurdly, he decided it was a good and proper time to dial up the charm.  “Say, you don’t wanna tell me what you and your boys were up to here? I’m pretty sure you’re the one keeping these fellas in line.”

Her eyes were wide and fierce. It turned out that Roxy no longer needed to blink. 

“That’s quite a look you’re thrown’ at me.” The cowboy smirked.

“Well, I’m really sorry. I apologise for this, but ya’ll don’t give me no other choice.” 

He turned toward the side and pulled out a pair of aviator sunglasses from his shirt pocket. The lenses were shaded to a dusky gold. He unfolded them, put them on and tapped the side of the lens. 

“Ya there?” He spoke into the air.

Evidently the glasses were a communications device and he received an answer in return. He nodded to himself. “Yep, affirmative.” 

There was another brief pause as he listened to the person on the other side. “Roger that.” He turned off the communication by tapping the side of the lens a second time. 

He looked at them almost sympathetically. “It looks we ARE gonna find out what happens when we change things up a bit.”

He walked over to the frosted panel window and flipped a switch.

Roxy, Merlin and Eggsy were momentary blinded by a brilliant white light. So bright and unexpected that they had to turn away. They squinted against the flare as coloured spots tripped behind their eyelids. They continued to blink until their eyes adjusted to the intensity of the new light. 

What they saw as the opacity of the glass dissolved… Well, to say they were ill prepared would be the understatement to understate all statements.

It couldn’t be.

It was utterly impossible.

But there he was. 

Outlined by a dazzling white light. 

Unmistakable.

It was Harry Hart.

—

The agents tried to gather their collective wits like they were trying to herd cats. It was nearly impossible. Harry disappeared from view. Sharp, tell tale footsteps could be heard walking down the short distance from the viewing area to their holding room. 

Between the three of them, none had taken a single breath from the moment Harry Hart appeared behind the glass.

For Eggsy, a white hot wave surged through his body and seared him from his finger tips to his toes. He could even hear the heat ringing in his ears. It was a high pitched whine that reverberated from one side of his head to the other. He had no control over his physical response. Any authority that he may have had, dissipated with the frosted glass. Apparently, his body knew exactly what to do, because it was doing its own thing, without any input from him. He set his thoughts aside and let his body do whatever it felt the need to. He was fairly certain he was exhibiting the physical signs of shock. He felt pale, his hands were damp and clammy. He felt weirdly mortified. He might as well be naked, for he felt exposed to the deepest, most secret recesses of his soul. Places that had no business being brought to light. 

He felt laughter bubble up through watery eyes he didn’t even know if he could call tears. For joy? Sheer bewilderment? Whatever the reason, his eyes were leaking. The buzzing in his ears wouldn’t stop and he felt sure he was about to pass out. He wanted to drop his head between his legs, but he didn’t dare pull his gaze away from the door he knew Harry Hart would enter from. He didn’t dare blink. Let alone look away. 

His ears burned, his cheeks flamed red and splotchy. It was as if he was caught off guard doing the most embarrassing thing he could think of, just times a billion and witnessed by everyone from his mum to his kindergarten teacher, not to mention every famous person that he had a crush on or looked up to and the whole mortifying episode was being televised live around the world. 

Whatever he was experiencing, it was nearly unbearable. Like suffocating and hyperventilating at the same time. Was that even possible? His heart had either stopped or was beating so rapidly that it felt as if it was hardly beating at all. Which seemed feasible as most of his blood had pooled in his cheeks and the tops of his ears. Surely, there was none flowing to his brain. It had signed out for the moment. It certainly wasn’t sticking around to see what was coming next. 

 He tried to arrange his face into the shape he thought would be appropriate for when his mentor, who he saw get shot point blank in the face, a man who died over a year ago, who he had spent what felt like a lifetime grieving, materialise as an interrogator for a covert cowboy secret agency in Kentucky. He couldn’t imagine what an acceptable face would look like in that situation, so he assumed that his face had no expression at all. It was the best he could do. 

He didn’t even posses the wherewithal to see how his partners where faring. He hoped that they were in a more presentable state. He moved his mouth to form words, but nothing came out. He tried clearing his throat, but it was dry and papery. Apparently, whatever autonomous system that controlled his salivary glands also decided that this whole situation was bullshit and decided to check out, too.

The track of the footsteps, even now so familiar, paused at the door. The handle turned with a weighty click. 

He didn’t have the brain capacity to even imagine what would happen next.

The only thing in his head were three letters. And they weren’t  ABC. 

They were W. T. F.

The door opened. 

They saw the man who had once been the foundation of their agency. 

The man who had once been its living and breathing heart and soul. 

How long had it been since he last thought of Harry Hart? After the initial grief, the denial, the anger, and finally, the acceptance, the loss became a dull ache.  Though tolerable, it never went away. They never found his body, but he didn’t have hope that Harry would ever return. He saw the shot that took his life. Even the best agent had no way of possibly surviving a point blank shot to the face. Harry fell where he had once stood. He didn’t get back up. And like that, Harry Hart was gone.

In the aftermath of V-day, Eggsy and the others didn’t have a chance to even stop and think about what happened to Harry, let alone process the loss. That came after. In the moments when time slowed down, things got quiet, and they no longer had the urgency of missions to distract them from the loss or to use as a vehicle for their anger and rage at the unfairness of it all.  

Eggy’s pain was not only due to the loss of his mentor, but also from the fact that he never got to tell the man just how important he was to him. Their final conversation repeated in his head, over and over, on endless loop. The last words that he had exchanged with Harry were harsh and accusatory. How much he wished that that conversation had not been their last. What wouldn’t he give to say the rest of the words that were caught in his throat. To finally release them. To say he was sorry. But the chance never came and the words clung to him, never to be spoken.

A tall man in a dark pinstripe suit entered the room.

At first glimpse, he was their Harry Hart. As perfect as they imagined and just as they all remembered him. Only on closer inspection did they notice small, but significant details that would indicate otherwise.

He was wearing what looked like the exact same suit he “died” in. But this one didn’t show any of the wear and damage that was sure to have happened in that final, brutal rampage. Either Statesman had an excellent tailor repair the original suit, or more likely, Harry had his suit replicated. 

The details were exacting as they had always been. The tie with the Windsor knot. The pristine white spread collar and crisp pocket square. French cuffs that were still held by the Kingsman cuff links. 

His standard horn rimmed communication glasses had been modified. The left lens was now shaded a solid black. There was an additional piece that covered his peripheral vision from the edge of the lens to the end of the arm on his left side.

How was it possible that he stood before them, as handsome and regal as ever? Hell, the man could even make a blacked out eye look distinguished. It added to his air of gravitas.

A curious pair of black cowboy boots with elaborate stitching, stood out from below the mid-break of his trousers. The footsteps they heard in the hallway didn’t come from his standard oxfords.

Neither did they see the familiar Kingsman standard issue pistol he would always pack without fail. In his right hand, held down by his side, he toted a nickel plated Colt Single Action Army revolver modified with a double barrel. He carried it by its smooth, wooden grip.

But he did walk with the same measured strides, familiar in pace and sound. Harry took his place in front of them as the cowboy found a space off to the side. 

They wore their incredulity in silence.  Words were insignificant compared to this impossible occasion. Words that would adequately express their turmoil did not exist. Merlin looked like he was trying to deconstruct a complex algorithm in his head. Roxy looked, he imagined bizarrely, like she had just been denied an orgasm. Where the hell did that come from? Eggsy fairly certain he looked like a bloody idiot.

And so they waited. 

Familiar, golden brown eyes, well, eye now, gazed over them. Making and then holding eye contact with each of them in the way they had always remembered he would when he required their full attention.

They searched his eyes and face for recognition. To see any kind of dawning realization that he knew who they were. Merely seeing Harry, alive and mostly whole, was something that was unfathomable to them. 

Finally, Harry spoke.

The vibration of his voice was able to resonate through their shocked and dampened senses. It was a deep and calming sound. Smooth, measured tones with an aristocratic accent that clipped his words. Vibrant. It was a voice that was warm, safe and familiar. It was a voice that sounded like home.

What was completely baffling were the words that beautiful voice said. 

“Please excuse my dreadful manners. But I don’t believe we have properly met.”

They turned and glanced at each other in confusion. What the hell? Surely there had to be some part of Harry that recognized them. At least Merlin, with whom he shared a history going back over twenty years. 

“Harry. It’s us.” Merlin implored. “We’re not undercover. Right now, we’re not anything. That’s why we came here.” 

“Harry.” Merlin’s voice was touched with sorrow. “Kingsman is gone.”

Harry’s face remained impassive. The spark of recognition remained unfired. There was no hint of softening, no warmth, no glint that told them, “Not to worry. Everything is under control.”  

Harry confirmed. “Yes, I had the pleasure of hearing your story.” He leaned back against the wall and took a casual stance. Crossing his legs in front of him much like Tequila did.  He placed a hand in a pocket. The other gripped the Colt lightly.

“It’s quite interesting.” He looked thoughtful. “And particularly unfortunate that this Kingsman Tailoring “Agency” that you speak of, was completely and utterly destroyed. How unfortunate that the three of you happen to be the only survivors.” 

Time paused with him as he contemplated this thought for awhile.

“It would seem rather convenient, on the other hand, for that gives us absolutely no way to possibly verify your doomsday scenario.” 

The disappointment on his face hit them with a guilt that was worse than his impassivity. 

“And why, all of a sudden, after a year, would not only one, but three mysterious Brits arrive here at Statesman, of all the places in the world, for no other reason than a bottle telling them to.” 

Beseechingly, Eggsy replied. “Harry, we don’t understand what’s happening. We thought that you had died when Valentine shot you outside the church.”

Harry’s face suddenly hardened. Slowly he pulled himself up to his full height.

“How could you possibly know that?” The air around them became sharp with tension. 

How did they end up on the wrong side of the interrogation table? They had never seen Harry from this perspective. But they had witnessed him work targets before. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

As Harry continued, his voice remained very calm and very steady. 

“No one. Pardon me. I should clarify. No one alive except Statesman has that knowledge. Not even I had that knowledge in the beginning.”

Instantly, it was crucial that no one speak out of turn. Harry’s voice had taken on a tone that was flat and affectless.  They had rarely heard it before, but they knew it was dangerous to be on the receiving end of that dull and indifferent voice. 

Harry was walking his edge. And Harry on the edge was not someone you wanted to push. To anyone else, he would have appeared unchanged. But he had the sharp glint in his eye, the set to his jaw, and the steely note to his voice that betrayed he was very, very angry. They only knew this because of their history with him. It was critical to tread very lightly. 

Eggsy words were dressed with caution. 

“Harry, you were at the church, “he emphasised, “on behalf of Kingsman.” He carefully walked through a minefield of words, wary of any misstep that would trigger Harry’s anger in their direction.

“We knew that Richmond Valentine was up to no good. You were assigned the mission to find out exactly what he was planning. You flew to Kentucky. Valentine was testing his SIM card transmitter on the people in the church. You were there as well. Even though you didn’t have a SIM card, the transmission was strong enough to affect everyone, whether they had a SIM card or not.”

 “Merlin and I were on the communication feed. We saw everything…. You were affected by the sound waves, too… You had no control…” He wasn’t sure how to continue, but he definitely didn’t want to mention the number of people Harry had killed.

Merlin spoke on his behalf. “Eggsy’s right. We saw you confront Valentine. We saw him shoot you in the head. We thought that you had died. The bullet destroyed the communication feed or else it would have transmitted…” he paused. “Proof of life, or confirmation of death.” 

Harry reflected. “Yes, I did almost die on that day.”

Eggsy and Merlin flinched.

“It was only through, whatever would like to call it, luck, perhaps fate. Regardless, it was Statesman that located me. They were able to save my life. I owe them. I am a man who honors his debts.”

The room prickled with silence. They dared not say more until they were able to see more of the landscape they were trying to traverse. It was littered with threats.

Harry, now pacing in slow, steady strides, continued. “With all the resources you say this Kingsman agency had, how surprising that it had to be strangers that came to my aid. Otherwise,” he recalled, “I would be, quite dead.” 

The three of them realised they were on eggshells atop a minefield. Never before had they been confronted by Harry in this manner. Never before had they even witnessed Harry in this state. They were uncertain of what to do when faced with this degree of suspicion and mistrust from a man, who in the past, would have given his life to save any of theirs.

When no one spoke, he began to ruminate. “At Statesman, we knew that it was Richmond Valentine who shot me. Confirmed by two of their agents.” He turned back toward them. “Though the question of why still remained unsolved.”

Coming closer. “But you three, now, are here with that answer,” He paused in-between his points for effect. 

“But you are here, completely by chance.” pause 

“Only because of a doomsday protocol scenario.” pause 

“A scenario that led you to Statesman.” pause 

“And I just happen to be here as well.” pause  

“Do you know what the odds are of that happening?” pause  

“Rather extraordinary, don’t you think?” pause  

“I must say, you are quite the interesting trio. Unassuming.  Not quite what one would expect for this sort of operation.  Perhaps that is the point. Disarm me with your improbability, with your accents, so familiar to my own. Here to deliver stories of how I was part of an organization that no longer exists. And you are the only other individuals who know what occurred the day I was shot.” He stopped in front on them. He turned to face them and drew tall once more.

Looking at each other was a dare none of them were willing to take. They knew that the most important thing at that moment was to maintain eye contact with Harry anytime he looked in their direction. If they couldn’t offer him any answers, at least they could show him that they had nothing to hide. Now was not the time to look or act guilty.

No matter how many tactics he used, regardless of how hard he pushed them, their story would be the same because they had no other story. Was there no memory of Kingsman at all? What about Harry’s moral code, that Kingsman only risked a life to save a life. Was that a credo he still followed? The did not know what to expect.

“Regardless. Questions for another time I suppose.” He waved his hand as if brushing them away.

“The pressing issue still remains.” He was firm and unyielding. “Who are you and how did you find us.”

 What could they possibly say at this point? They remained silent.

“We welcome our visitors and our guests. However, we do not take kindly to trespassers. You say you have nothing to protect, but your honor. If the three of you are the only survivors of your organization and you are as close as you say, I would assume that you would, at the very least, protect a third of what remains of your agency.

Eggsy suddenly found himself on the business end of a Colt Single Action Army revolver. 

Staring down the barrel of the gun, he felt drunk, off balance, like he had fallen into an alternate universe. Where the laws of physics no longer applied. 

“Harry, it’s me.”  The only thing he could think of that could reach Harry was the guilt he had carried with him for over 17 years. The guilt that made him reach out to Eggsy in the first place. 

With self-possession he did not have, he composed himself as well as he could while being threatened by the mentor he once thought was dead.   

“My father saved your life.” He spoke quietly and deliberately and without hesitation.  “But you had made a mistake that cost him his. You were trying to repay him by helping me find purpose, to do something good with my life. You recruited me to Kingsman. You changed everything for me.” 

The look Harry returned for these words was almost kindly. 

“I’ll give you the following three seconds to prove that to me.”

Fuck. Eggsy was drawing a blank.

He could hear Roxy and Merlin, as if they were underwater yelling to Harry anything they could to make him stop.  

What felt like a lifetime later, the door burst open. Apparently, he had lost the ability to count, because that brief passage of time felt like much longer than three seconds. 

“Stop!” a woman yelled urgently. She tossed Harry a black umbrella. He caught it deftly with one hand.

“Their story checks out.” She held her palms out toward Harry. Please stop.

“I checked our doomsday scenario locker.” She explained. “Only to be opened in the case of a catastrophic event that cripples the agency to the point where we cannot rebuild on our own. It was established by a network of international intelligence agencies, forged when they first began. Since autonomy was the goal for each agency, once the protocol was put into place, no agency was to uncover it unless absolutely necessary.” 

“Take a look.” She nodded to the umbrella in his hand. “Kingsman. It has our logo on it.”

Harry paused to inspect the handle. Sure enough, the Statesman logo replaced the “s” in Kingsman.

He handled the umbrella in a way that seemed familiar to him. It almost seemed like he was looking for other recognisable features. Eggsy has seen plenty of Harry handling the umbrella like it was an extension of himself. He had saved Eggy’s life with it. It looked so natural in his hands. Like it completed the final picture of their Harry Hart and he was hopeful that this might be the final piece of the puzzle.  

Harry looked at the umbrella thoughtfully. It was difficult to read his face if he didn’t want it to be read. After a pause, he tossed it lightly back to Ginger. 

“Not good enough.” The gun swung back toward Eggsy.

They froze, unable to move, speak or even breathe. They were at a loss, nothing in their training prepared them for this. Roxy and Merlin could only watch helplessly as Harry cocked the revolver at Eggsy. Was it a live round? Or was it blank?

What kind of FU world would allow something like this to happen? Eggsy thought. He grasped for any hope, any last play that he could make, but the only thing within his reach was empty space. It simply slid through his fingers, without purchase, without substance. There was nothing that he could hold on to.

BUT… his eyes darted towards Harry’s right hand. The gun in his face was blocking his view… Fuck it. He squeezed eyes shut as he opened his mouth. The words ran together and toppled over each other as they spilled out without pause. 

“you wear a gold signet ring on your right little finger gentleman are traditionally supposed to wear the ring on the left hand but you wear yours on your right because a Kingsman always wears it on whatever hand happens to be dominant and you are right handed”

Nothing happened. And it was quiet.

Cautiously, Eggy peered from one eye. He wasn’t dead. He opened the other eye.

Harry regarded him from along the barrel of the revolver. Eggsy flinched away from its deadly mouth.

Harry deliberated. His mind took a step back and a step to the side. He looked at the situation from a different perspective. Because he was wearing a signet ring on his right hand, not on his left, as was the gentlemen’s  tradition. He was wearing it when he was shot. He could not recall where the ring came from, or its significance. Researching the insignia came up with no leads. But he continued to wear the ring, for no other reason than it felt right to him. Like he insisted on wearing his suit, rather than Statesman’s tie and jacket. 

His eyes let go of some of the hardness. Eggsy hoped that he saw a little softening at the edges. 

Harry’s voice, so familiar it made his heart hurt. Not accusatory, but with interest, he asked, “How do you know that?” 

Eggsy, with great effort willed his gaze to leave the barrel of the gun and meet the face that had once meant so much to him. He caught Harry’s eyes and didn’t flinch.

He took a deep breath. “I know,” he said with a calmness and a clarity he did not feel, “because I’m wearing one, too.”

Harry, without breaking eye contact, nodded to Ginger. She hurried to Eggsy’s side. After a quick glance, she confirmed, indeed, he was wearing a signet ring exactly like Harry’s.

Harry lowered his gun. There were three consecutive sighs of relief.

“My apologies.” He said as he holstered his weapon.

“It seems as if we have much to discuss.”

———

They found themselves in a massive great room at Statesman HQ, the top floor of a huge structure the shape of the Statesman signature whiskey bottle. Floor to ceiling windows circled the entire room, providing a 360 degree view of the rolling hills of Kentucky from every vantage point.

The centrepiece of the space was a leviathan of a conference table. Elaborately carved, solid hard wood. The trees that created that table must have had lived for years to grow to such a substantial size.  It had space to sit 12, but only few of the spots were occupied.

One of which by a larger than life, genial, vintage cowboy of a man. A little flashy, a little ostentatious, more than a little gregarious, he was the head of the Statesman outfit. With a place at the head of the table, he leaned back in his plush armchair with aplomb. He introduced himself as “Champagne” or Champ as he was known affectionately by his agents.

Roxy wasn’t surprised that, aside from Ginger Ale, she was the only female present. Hell, Ginger was the only other female that she had seen since they had entered Statesman HQ. Well, technically ‘broke in’, but still. They had an invitation, even if it was only in the shape of a whiskey bottle. A bottle that they had emptied while wallowing in self pity. Even Merlin was a bit maudlin, at one point, sobbing into his whiskey and singing Country Roads a little off key. Roxy had side-eyed him until Eggsy spotted the secret message hidden behind the label. She wondered they they had made the clue unnoticeable until the bottle was emptied. They could have quite possibly missed the hint. Being under the influence of, admittedly, very smooth whiskey did not enhance ones ability to spot decades old subtext on the back of whiskey labels. Whose clever idea had that been? 

Once again, she found herself in the odd situation where she wanted to be taken seriously as an agent, but Agent Tequila’s insistence on calling her sweetheart, miss, darling, filly of all things didn’t give her much confidence that Statesman would be any different from the old boys club that was Kingsman.

Even back at HQ, she was often, dear, dearest, or darling. The only person that she tolerated those endearments from where Eggsy, who used them in jest, and surprisingly Harry Hart. But Galahad, and Galahad Sr. calling her dear was much different than a two-bit, over the top, slick cowboy secret agent she had just met calling her something as intimate as “darling”. 

Would it kill him to call her Lancelot? It miffed her that he used Eggsy’s handle and not hers. Looking at the head of their organisation, she didn’t expect him to be much different. 

She took a seat the near end of the table, between Eggsy and Merlin. Agent Tequila walked in with Ginger, followed by Harry. She was surprised when he continued past them and walked around the head of the table to the other side, the Statesman side, and took a seat next to Ginger. He pulled out his chair, as smooth and as graceful as he sat thousands of times at the head of the Kingsman table. Even unbuttoning the last button of his suit so it wouldn’t crease and smoothing the back of his jacket before he leaned into his chair. The crossed legs, the hands folded on the knee. The authoritative, yet relaxed posture. It was all so familiar. What she couldn’t reconcile was the inscrutable, impenetrable expression that fell over his face every time he glanced in their direction. There was no warmth, no familiarity, no flicker of understanding. It made his face look unfamiliar and she did not like it one bit. 

To add insult to injury, Ginger had leaned over and whispered something in his direction. The small hint of a ‘not quite smile’ that pressed his lips together, his mouth just barely turned up at the corners, meant that she had shared an observation that confirmed something in his mind in a bemused sort of way. It was the look Harry had once made, when inquired about Eggsy’s tardiness, she revealed that he was running late because it was JB’s birthday party later and he wanted to get the dog “pupcakes” to celebrate. The memory tugged at her heart.

She didn’t turn her head to see how Eggsy was faring, but she could almost feel his dejection. She hoped it wasn’t so obvious on his face. Sometimes he was a little too earnest for his own good. Not that her other side was an improvement. Merlin was seated directly across from Harry. Only a distance of several feet, but it might as well have been lengths of the world for as distant Harry was from them. The furrow between the Scotsman’s brows had appeared the moment they discovered Harry alive. It took up residence on his face. Harry Hart, the man who was the only person close enough for Merlin to consider a friend, was now a mystery to him. 

The loss, between Eggsy and Merlin, was a cold empty space that Roxy had the unfortunate pleasure to be seated between. She was determined to warm up whatever mood vacuum that had sucked her in. Or at least not make it any worse.             

 And why did she always have to be the mediator? The men had elected Roxy as their spokesperson as neither of them thought that they would be able to speak without laughing, crying, shouting or hitting something. Predictably, she found herself the voice of reason. To be fair, she WAS the one with the least emotional involvement. Not that she hadn’t adored and respected Harry Hart, like everyone that worked under his guidance, but she had to admit, Merlin and Eggsy must be twice as confused and devastated by the recent turn of events. She mentally steeled herself against any additional revelations that might be thrown their way. But at this point, if there was something that could top this most recent turn of events, they might as well just blow up this joint and let it all burn down, too.

After everyone had settled in, and to her amusement, a pour of whiskey was set in front of each of them. She decided to get this “rodeo” started. She nodded in Champs direction. He tipped his chin, tapped his glass with his pen to get everyone’s attention and announced the opening of the meeting. All the Statesman and Harry, emptied their glasses. From her peripheral she saw Merlin and Eggsy follow suit without hesitation. Did all agencies revolve around the consumption of alcohol? She had already developed quite a tolerance from her brief stint at Kingsman so far. Well, if it brought these two agencies on familiar ground, who was she to argue? She tipped her glass back. And the welcomed the warmth after the initial burn, though still much smoother than could be expected. She appreciated the added touch of liquid courage. She cleared her throat. 

“We find ourselves here, under what we,” she gestured to herself and her colleagues, “believed to be the most difficult of circumstances. Only to be faced with another impossible situation. As you can imagine, the revelation that Harry Hart, our Sr. Agent Galahad,” she nodded in his direction, “who we believed had been killed over a year ago by Richmond Valentine, that he is still alive, has been shocking for us.”

In Harry’s direction, she continued, addressing him directly. “Harry. If we had believed there to be even the most infinitesimal chance that you could have survived Valentine’s bullet, we would have not hesitated to garner all the forces of Kingsman to find you and bring you back.”

Harry, respectfully listened to Lancelot, attentive, but without revealing anything aside from simple interest.

She faltered a little under his gaze. And she, too, wished for that little wink, the small tilt of his chin that would encourage her to continue. Just as he first did when she joined Kingsman, nervous over her first debriefing. There was no comfort to be found in his direction. She took a deep breath and continued. 

“Both Eggsy - our current Galahad - and Merlin witnessed the events of what we thought was your death.” She forced herself to face him, eye to eye, without hesitation. After all that he had sacrificed for them, it was the least she could offer him.

Her voice was clear and firm, her words meticulously thought out. “They saw you get shot, point blank, in the face, by no more than a distance of 10 feet, by a 9mm semi-automatic Heckler and Koch P30. The bullet destroyed the communication transmission via the left lens.”

Both Eggsy and Merlin were looking down. Both remembering all too clearly the events from that day. The details were painful for them to hear, especially when the man who they thought had died, was in fact, sitting across the table. Even though they had every right to call time of death, they couldn’t help but feel they had left him behind. 

Roxy continued. “Merlin, our communications and technology strategist and Galahad, who was at the time, your protege, had witnessed all the events up to the point the bullet severed the transmission. We could only deduce, at that point, that a bullet of that caliber, from that distance, would have shattered the lens.” She took a deep breath, “and continued through the left eye and exited the back of the head. Resulting in immediate death.” 

She could sense Eggsy flinch by her side. He had seen the whole thing far too clearly. 

“As much as we wanted to, we were unable to collect the body at the time of death. Due to unforeseen circumstances regarding treachery within the highest ranks of our agency, Merlin, Eggsy and I, had to straight away address both the source of our internal corruption and abort the plans initiated by Richmond Valentine. We were successful in both, but not in time to prevent casualties, both enemy and civilian.”

In speaking so intimately regarding what they thought was his death, she decided to switch identifiers from “the” to “your”. The man was sitting right in front of her. She spoke with a new earnest note in her voice. Rather than distancing herself from her words, she decided to speak from the place that had felt the same grief and loss as Eggsy and Merlin.

Harry’s eyes took on a different note as he heard the emotion in Roxy’s voice. 

“In the immediate aftermath of V-day, after the initial threat was neutralised, we flew to the States in an attempt to find you, identify you, and bring you home for proper internment, but we were unable to locate your body. We tried over weeks, through every channel, every resource, we followed every lead, with no success. We didn’t hope to find you alive.” 

She fought against the wave of emotion that threatened her composure.

“But we hoped that we would be able to properly commemorate your bravery, your integrity, your sacrifice, with the honour, dignity and grace worthy of your life and your legacy.” 

Roxy had stop for a moment, but she did not look away. A small tear rolled down her cheek without her noticing or bothering to wipe it away. It was as if the loss was new again. This pain was fresh. For all of them.

Harry’s eyes finally softened and they caught a glimpse of the man they remembered. But whether it was empathy for Roxy, clearly struggling to continue as her emotions caught in her throat, or understanding how they felt and what they had to do in the most difficult of situations, they did not know. 

And whatever amnesia he was experiencing had to be temporary, right? Surely Melin could devise a plan to help jump start his memory. Now that the were there, they could help him remember.

—

Roxy was determined to continue until the end. 

“After the events of V-Day, we had to recenter and regroup. Our agency had clearly been compromised. We needed to locate and close the leaks and tie up any loose ends.  Our losses were felt across the board. We had to rebuild what we could from the ground up. To recapture the integrity of our organisation. The immediate need to clean up the aftermath was one of the few things that we could focus on to help us come to terms with your loss. We knew, that if you had survived, you would have taken the mantle of Arthur. And that it would be your highest priority to rebuild the agency beyond reproach.”

“After several weeks, in which we continued our search for you, we felt that it would be best for us personally and professionally to move on. We held a private memorial for you, and honoured you as best as we could. After that, we could only move forward. It was a difficult time for all of us.” 

“We found ourselves here, after our organisation was levelled again. This time with only the three of us as survivors. Our HQ, our foundry, our storefront.” Her eyes flared with anger at this point. “And all of our agents worldwide aside from Galahad and I, were all taken down as targets.”

“Merlin was the only surviving handler and tech strategist and the only one of us that had been with the agency long enough know that a Doomsday protocol existed. With all of our resources destroyed, we had no way of protecting ourselves, to find out who had organised and carried out such a coordinated attack. Our last and only option was to see if this protocol existed.”

“We found the Statesman logo. Located your distillery here in Kentucky. At this point, we really had no plan beyond finding your organisation and hoping that you would be able to assist us.”

“We still had some tech in our possession, which I admit, looked suspicious for a group of tailors to have, let alone know how to use. That’s when your agent found us. We meant no ill will, but we had no other way to get into contact with your organization.  We didn’t even know if you existed. We had nothing to lose but to continue to follow any clues that we might come across. We had no protocol for a circumstance like this.”

“You can only imagine our bewilderment to be taken as adversaries when we were looking for help. And then our shock of finding Harry Hart. Finding him, not only alive, but with no memory of the agency he was devoted to over 30 years. It still is an unthinkable situation that we were not prepared for and obviously, are still trying to process.”

She had been speaking for a long time. She paused, took a sip of water, swallowed, before continuing.

She addressed the table. “Everything that we have said is the truth. We were also an independent intelligence agency with headquarters in London.” 

She turned again to Harry. “You were an integral member of this agency for most of your adult life. You know each of us well. Merlin has been your colleague for over 20 years. You knew Eggsy’s father, he saved your life in a mission that had gone sideways. That was seventeen years ago. You had recruited him as a way to repay his fathers sacrifice. My uncle was also a long time colleague of yours and our families go back many years.”

“We are so grateful that you are alive. We are sorry that we left you behind. That would never be our intention. We are forever indebted to Statesman for saving your life and taking care of you. But as you can imagine, we have questions of our own. How did you get here? How did you survive? Do you have no memory of Kingsman at all? What can you remember? Obviously, you have retained your skills, but to what extent? If you honestly don’t remember, then we can see how unbelievable our story is. But I think if you are still a man of honour and integrity, then you have to feel that we are not hostiles or adversaries. We pose no threat to you. Your instincts must tell you we are offering you the truth.”

She could tell that Harry was processing the information, she just couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Roxy concluded. “And that brings us here to the present. I think our most pressing question is “how did you survive?”

Harry nodded to Ginger to answer the question. He seemed to want to observe the conversation. His attention had never wavered from Roxy while she spoke, only widened at times to include Eggsy or Merlin. If he had come to a conclusion, there was nothing that they could see.

Roxy gladly handed off the meeting to Ginger. Harry’s unwavering gaze was getting a little unnerving. Without the added scrutiny, she could get collect her own thoughts and feelings. Kingsman recruitment training had been brutal, but nothing could have prepared them for the last 48hrs. Nothing in the Gentleman’s Guide had a blueprint on how to behave when your agency gets blown up and your dead mentor, comes back to life, has amnesia, and then almost shoots you.

——

Ginger spoke up.

“I would like to confirm that we now have proof that your story is legitimate Which means, Harry, what they are saying about your history with Kingsman is most likely the truth.”

Harry tilted his chin slightly in her direction in acknowledgement. 

She spoke in the direction of the three Kingsman. “We have just received corroboration from several independent sources that the events did occur as described and that your agency was the target of a massive strike against organisations such as ours. We are sorry for your loss. You will have full access to our resources to investigate this adversary and we will provide you with support. This is a threat that affects all of us.”

Merlin spoke up. His voice was rough with concern. 

“Harry, what happened?” 

Harry’s voice, deep and a with familiar, crisp authority, suddenly filled the space.

“At this point, I believe Ginger will be able to recall the events much more clearly than I. I have no recollection of events immediately following the shooting.” He turned to her. “Please, continue.”

Merlin gaze remained fixed on Harry and worried there for several moments, before he turned his attention to Ginger.

“The day prior to V-Day, we detected the transmission of a very low frequency sound wave. Much lower than what is normally used for any legitimate communication. This frequency, for the time and location, was suspicious to say the least and it was imperative that we investigate. Agent Tequila and I helicoptered to the spot, about 10 miles away.”

“The frequency stopped right about the time we were closing in on the location. We had already pinpointed the source so we knew where it originated from. Even though the transmission had stopped, we could still find clues to its origin.” 

“We were just flying into the zone when we witnessed the shooting. We saw Valentine and his accomplices depart. They didn’t confirm death. I expect they thought that shooting someone in the face.. well, there are not many outcomes. Our timing couldn’t have been better planned. We had developed what we call “alpha gel” to use on our own agents in the case of a head shot. Previously, a head shot meant immediate death. Body armour can only protect so much. We’ve lost very good agents.’ 

But depending on where the bullet entered the skull and if there was minimal damage to the actual brain and spinal cord, the gel could potentially save an agents life. 

Harry was still alive when I checked his vitals. I applied the alpha gel immediately. It’s crucial to activate the gel to prevent tissue damage and accelerate the nannites that are used to repair neural pathways. I won’t go further in depth at this point. The main issue at that moment was to preserve life. 

Of course, because of his glasses, we knew that he was intelligence, we just didn’t know whose and we had no way of finding out without compromising Harry’s safety and our anonymity.  

Harry suffers from retrograde amnesia, which could be from the injury. But it can also be a side effect of the alpha gel. However, when life it at risk, the benefits outweigh the possible negative outcomes. This kind of memory loss, you lose existing, previously made memories. This type of amnesia tends to affect recently formed memories first. Older memories, such as memories from childhood, are usually affected more slowly. 

She motioned to Harry, while he listened closely to her explanation.

“So while Harry was whole as a person, personality wise, function wise, cognitive and behavioural skills in place, he had no memory of who he was aside from what could be observed. He had no memory of his past, people, places, events. This was an interesting case because usually with retrograde amnesia, there can be the regression to the younger self. The skill set and knowledge and the growth that occurred during the time of memory loss can also be lost as well. Such as, if you learned French while you were in college, but you lost the memories of this timeframe, in most cases, you would no longer be able to speak French. In fact, the whole memory that you learned it to begin with would be gone. In these cases, the knowledge and skill learned during this time would also be forgotten. However, in some rare cases, the ability to remember the skill remains, while the memory of the past when it was learned is lost. 

“In Harry’s case, it was obviously the later.” 

The slightest shift in the landscape of Harry’s face indicated that we was thoughtful and reflective. How must it be to wake up and not know who you are.

Harry, while still maintaining full concentration on Ginger, set a small part of him free to revisit the day he regained consciousness. Which technically, would not be regaining consciousness, since he had no recollection of losing consciousness to begin with.

——

POV HARRY HART

“My name is Harry Hart.”  It was the first thought that went through his head.

Secondly, “Caucasion male, 6’2”, brown hair, brown eyes, 58 years of age. 13.5 stone” That all sounded perfectly reasonable to him.

Thirdly, wasn’t a thought, it was a feeling of emptiness. Not as if he was missing something. It did not feel like loss. It did not feel as if he was lacking. That would imply that there was something present to begin with.  It was not a feeling he could identify or that felt familiar or could find a word that was representative. It was unusual for him. He never found his vocabulary lacking. Perhaps if it could be called a non-feeling. He was a vessel. Neither empty, nor full. And no desire to be either or. An interesting sensation. 

When he first woke up, he had not realised that he was suffering from amnesia. Due to the amnesia there were no memories that insisted he should be a certain person. That he had to exist in a certain place. Doing something specific. A curious circumstance. There was no sense of surprise waking up in the condition he found himself to be. He did whatever he would do in a circumstance like this. Assess the situation. 

As he entered a conscious state, his mind automatically shifted into overdrive. But without moving. Without betraying any kind of change. He felt the need to remain unnoticed. He did this from where he rested. He first determined if he had sustained any injury or damage that had caused permanent physical disability or bodily harm. He had full function of all of his appendages. He did not know how long he had been in this state, but he did not notice any signs of muscle atrophy or joint stiffness. They must have a system that stimulated muscle tissue and nerves to prevent deterioration or he had not been in an immobile state for any length of time. Blinking his eyes was like scrapping sandpaper and his throat was a desert of sand. He attempted to make any kind of noise and found it difficult. That meant he had to have been out for at least some meaningful period of time. His head did ache something awful, and he noted a bandage or some other type of patch over his left eye. The use of only one eye would change his perception of depth, and the range of his peripheral vision, but he did not doubt that he would be able to adjust accordingly.

He had no reason to question his cognitive function. He processed information unhesitatingly and with ease. Without a sense of doubt, without faltering, he scanned the room and began to examine his surroundings. He was being held in some kind of hospital or medical ward. Not civilian. It was either private or for research. Maybe military. Hi tech, advanced equipment. Everything was in pristine condition. Two exits on opposing sides. No windows. A complex ventilation and filtration system suggested an underground location. No immediate threat that he could ascertain, but that could change at any moment. No apparent weapons. Some medical instruments that could possibly work. He was not restrained so he was not being held against his will. Or there was no need if he was unconscious the entire time. He did not feel any urgency or sense of immediate danger, but he did not question his need to assess the situation .

He heard two people approach the door to the left. Judging from the echoing quality and the gradual volume and clarity of their foot steps, from a fairly long corridor. 

His eyes remained closed, his breathing shallow and steady, his heartbeat was slow and rhythmic. He concentrated on the sound. One set of footsteps was clearly male. The stride was longer, more pronounced, in heavy shoes, presumably boots. But an easy pace. Most likely 6’, 13 stone, physically fit. His gait was even, balanced and light. Not the walk of someone that led a sedentary life. The second set of footsteps he concluded were female. Lighter, but not timid. A confident woman. Just a smaller stature. Medium height. Slight frame. Like her partner, fit, alert, competent. 

He did not know why or how he came up with these deductions, but he did not question them. He held the information in his mind so it was easily accessible. The voices, once they became decipherable, were relaxed and easy. Their tone was jovial and non-threatening. Younger than he was. American accent, with a southern drawl. He could be in the US, but anywhere was possible. While he did not expect danger, he still prepared himself for the risk. Mostly, his need was to understand the where he was, how he got there and have leverage over the situation.

The door opened with a heavy swooshing sound. He did not hear the click of a lock being turned, so he was not being held in high security setting.

The two individuals were still conversing, and he could just almost decipher what they were discussing. The man remained on his right hand side while the woman walked around the foot of the bed to inspect the instruments and diagnostics panels to the left. Her back was turned away from him. The man remained at his side. A quick glance in his direction. A holster was slung around his waist, it held a nickelplated SIG-Sauer P226 with wooden grips. A quality weapon. To his advantage, the strap securing the weapon was not snapped in. That would have been a trickier maneuver.

He guessed the woman was in medical, the man, based on the weapon and the fact that he was not actively participating in the tasks, that he was a guard or protection of some sort. With their relaxed tones, and familiar interactions, possibly a friend or colleague. 

Not one to overthink a situation, he decided now was as good a time as any. No use in waiting, expecting a better scenario. Best to address the situation you know rather than wait for one you don’t. Never a guarantee for a better set of circumstances. Only guarantee is time lost.

He waited patiently for the moment to proceed. Just a small distraction was all he needed. It arrived sooner than he anticipated and under better circumstances that he had the right to expect.

“Tequila, would you be able to hand me the print outs right behind you?” 

Harry saw him turn away from the bed, his hips rotated in his direction, the angle ideal for him to grab, cock and point. He only hoped that his deductions regarding his physical state were correct, or it would be a moot point. He might not even be able to sit up, let alone hold a weapon.  Take the out, the told himself. 

These thoughts occurred within fractions of a second. Without hesitation, in one fell swoop, he grabbed the gun, pulled back the slide to load the chamber. Thankfully his body responded without any resistance or weakness and he slid himself back into an upright position. 

He judged the distance between the three of them. The man called Tequila, was close enough by his side to possibly disarm him, so he swung the weapon in the woman’s direction. She was far enough away that the gun was not within her reach. He centered the sight at her chest. It was not the aim of a stop shot. It was the aim for a kill shot. Might as well show them he was not a man to underestimate. He did not want to shoot her, but he did want to make it very clear to them that he was a man to take very seriously. 

Once he guaranteed that he had their attention. Though he had many questions he wanted answers to, he asked them the two questions that were the most urgent.

His voice was gravelly, but still clear enough to understand. 

“Who are you?”

“What am I doing here?”

For having a gun aimed at her chest, the woman was surprisingly relaxed. She held up her palm towards the other man. She would handle this. The man shifted his weight back to a holding posture rather than the offensive stance that prepared him to take action. 

“You have a British accent. That’s helpful to know. How are you feeling?”

“My first two questions still stand.” He regarded them impassively, but kept any notes of aggression from his tone.

—— 

Gingers POV

“My name is Ginger Ale, I’m Head Strategy Executive and Director of Medical here at our outfit.  This is Agent Tequila. Welcome to Statesman, our whiskey distillery. You’re at our HQ in Kentucky.” 

She handed him a cup of water. “Sip. Don’t guzzle.”

She was succinct. “As for what you are doing here, we were waiting for you to wake up so you could tell us. We found you outside of a church about 10 miles from here. You had been shot in the head. You were still alive, so we did everything we could to keep you that way. You’ve been unconscious the entire time here. Your vitals were strong. We were just waiting for you to wake up. We have some questions for you as well.” 

Her voice was gentle, but firm. He did not catch any inflections or hesitations that would indicate she was lying, or with holding information. Her tone was honest, forthright and it put him slightly more at ease. 

“I answered both of yours. Would you be so kind to answer mine?” She asked politely.

He did not refuse, but he didn’t say yes.

“How are you feeling.” she asked again.

“Would you care to clarify?” He asked in return. “There are multiple ways I can respond to your question.”

So he was witty.

“Pick one.”

“At the present moment, tolerable. Though this persistent ache in my head leaves something to be desired” He equivocated. 

“That’s to be expected with a headshot. You did lose your left eye. There will be residual pain/discomfort until the injury is completely healed.”

“What is your name? 

“My name is Harry Hart.”

“Do you feel comfortable enough at the moment to answer some questions for us? Is there anything that you require immediately? 

“More water would be appreciated. Otherwise, feel free. Fire away.” He looked amused. He reached over to return Tequila’s gun. “Perhaps a poor choice of words in my case.” He revised his response. “Very well then, proceed.”

She refilled his water and pulled a chair next to his bed. Tequila found a place strategically viable to intervene if things went sideways. He wasn’t one to get caught off guard twice.

“Now, since we are on a first name basis, can you tell us why you were at the church that day? Why would someone would want to kill you?”

“No.”

“No?” 

“I simply do not know.”

“Why you were there? Or why someone wanted you dead?”

“Neither.”

“Where are you from?”

His face remained blank.

“That may be a little vague.” Ginger specified. “Where do you live? Where is your home?”

No response.

How old are you?

“58” 

“Do you know what you do for a living? Where do you work?”

An almost imperceptible turn of the head.

“Can you remember where you went to school? Secondary or university.”

He squinted his eyes. But no answer.

“Do you know who the current world leader is? President? Prime Minister?”

Her regarded her impassively. She started to form her own understanding of how he was communicating. She could play along. Any form of communication was good for her. It didn’t have to be words. There was more than one way to impart information. It would all get her to the same place. Plus, she would have the chance to read his non-verbal cues. That would be a challenge. His expression was nearly inscrutable.

A slight turn of the head meant I don’t know. His impassive face meant maybe, but he can’t know for sure. The blank disinterested stare meant that he had no idea what she was referring to. She was already intrigued by her patient. She was becoming more fascinated by the moment. 

Changing tactics, she asked. “Can you play the piano?”

A slight tilt of the head. This was new. That meant the question sparked something in his mind. It was a possibility, but he couldn’t know for sure. Interesting. She went further down her tangent.

“What’s pi to the tenth decimal?”

Without hesitation, he rattled off. “3.1415926535”

“Parle vous français?”

“Oui”

How many languages can you speak?

“Six ”

“What are they?”

English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Arabic.

Hmmm. Arabic was interesting. She filed that away to look at more closely at a later time.

“Do you know were you learned Arabic or why?”

He was taciturn.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Right.”

“What kind of car do you drive?”

Impassive.

“Do you own a car?”

Impassive.

“Do you know how to drive.”

“Yes.”

Now they were getting somewhere, she thought to herself.

“What was your favourite game as a child?”

He furrowed his brow but answered.

“Chess.”

Were you good?

“Yes.”

“Did you compete?

No answer.

Hmm. Retrograde amnesia, she pondered.

“Can you shoot a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever killed someone?”

A tilt of the head. Possible, but can’t confirm.

“Do you think you’re a good person?”

“I have no reason to doubt that.”

“Do you know what orange means?”

“The color or the fruit?”

Good. “The fruit, what does it remind you of? 

“Winter. Christmas.”

Excellent. “Do you remember a Christmas from your past?”

Blank stare.

“Do you think you’re attractive? Good looking.”

He huffed, amused. 

“It’s not a trick question.”

“Not to seem chuffed, but I’ve never had any complaints in that regard.”

“Can you remember any specific compliments that you’ve received in the past?”

Thwarted.

Good. “So you know that other people think you are attractive and desirable. But is that how you see yourself?”

 “I was attempting to be modest.” 

She waited for his response.

Reluctantly, “Yes.” He admitted. “I know that I am attractive, handsome, good looking. However you would like to call it.” 

He continued even though he had already answered the question. It was his first moment of revealing information on his own.

“I would go out with myself if I were able, but unfortunately, that is not an option. I am not a narcissist. However, I would say that I regard myself with a healthy and acceptable amount of vanity. “ 

Did Ginger just discern a bit of sarcasm?

His good looks have been a point of contention in the past. Not that she could blame him. She was curious to know how his appearance either hindered him or helped him. She did note that there was no wedding ring when they found him. She couldn’t complain. It didn’t hurt her daily check ups that he was extremely easy on the eyes. Even his hospital issue gown made him look handsome.

Ok. Time to move on. She switched her line of questioning. 

“Where are you right now?” She asked.

His expression was doubtful. Of her, not of his answer. His face asked the question. “Didn’t we just discuss this?” Nevertheless, he answered her with a bemused sigh.

“Kentucky, United States. Apparently 10 miles away from a church where I was shot in the head.”

Ginger nodded. She was encouraged. 

He didn’t see why. It wasn’t difficult to recall. She had only just told him.

“Do you remember our names and what we do?”

He found the helpfulness of these questions debatable, but if it would accelerate his process, he was willing to comply. And participate, if it made this whole interaction a tad more interesting.

“Your name is Ginger Ale. After the beverage, I can only assume. Your colleague, here, is called Tequilla, after the alcohol. I am under the the impression that these are code names that are assigned by the intelligence agency that employs you. Statesman. With a distillery as a backstop. Hence the libation themed code names. 

“Ginger Ale, I gather from your code name’s slight variation, you are in an essential, but supportive role. Whereas Tequila, a right tipple, would be classified as an agent. Of your independent organisation. I would believe, comparable to the CIA, but without the restrictions that often hinder government run spy organisations. And with more interesting code names.”

There was just the slightest hint of cockiness in his tone and in his expression. She found it equally amusing and charming at the same time. Now they were making progress. More than she could have hoped for.

He was obviously intelligent, well mannered, well spoken, though taciturn. Understandable upon waking up with no memory of where he was and why he was there. It was a very promising discovery. He seemed to accept his situation without resistance. He was alert. No hint of confusion. Just a desire to understand the circumstances he found himself in. 

He was emotionally stable, if not a little irritated, by his current state. He took the loss of his eye as a matter of fact. Overall, his ability to acclimate was nothing short of remarkable. 

He folded his hands on his lap, one over the other, tilted his chin in her direction. His posture said. “I’m waiting patiently..” He was throwing shades of a personality she was already warming toward. 

There was a momentary pause. They regarded each other with interest. 

 Finally Harry spoke. “I have amnesia.” He wasn’t asking a question. He was stating it as a fact.

She confirmed. Nodding. 

“I would like to perform some additional CT and MRI scans, and EEG, but judging from the traumatic brain injury you’ve suffered, you most likely have retrograde amnesia. Just based on this conversation alone. To be more specific. Focal retrograde amnesia. 

She continued to explain. “Focal retrograde amnesia, also known as isolated or pure retrograde amnesia, is when someone only experiences the loss of memories that have already been made. Anterograde amnesia, on the other hand, is being unable to form new memories.

He listened to her with a new interest. 

She continued. “So, it appears you have retrograde amnesia, but no anterograde. This means that the ability to form new memories is left intact. You easily recalled information from a short time ago. That is very good news.” She paused, looking for his understanding.

“Please, go on.” He said.

“This kind of isolated memory loss doesn’t affect a person’s intelligence or ability to learn new skills, like playing the piano or affect previously learned skills, like driving a car, speaking different languages. Most likely, if we sat you at a piano, you would be able to play, based on your response to my question.”

“What is the prognosis?”

Ginger, equivocated, a little hesitant “With amnesia, it’s difficult to predict. Retrograde amnesia can result from damage to different parts of the brain responsible for controlling emotions and memories. These include the thalamus, which is deep in the center of the brain, and the hippocampus, which is in the temporal lobe and the cerebellum. There are many variables involved.”

“Thats is all very interesting, but doesn’t quite give me any predictions for my future.” 

“To be completely honest, for the injury you sustained, the amnesia is surprisingly less severe than I would have predicted. Most traumatic brain injuries are mild, resulting in concussion. But a severe injury, like a serious blow to the head, or a bullet for that matter, can damage the memory-storing areas of the brain and lead to anterograde amnesia as well. Depending on the level of damage, the amnesia could be temporary or permanent. I know that’s not very helpful.”

“Ginger, there is no need to “hedge your bets” as they would say. I am quite prepared to accept any answer you provide.”

“The fact that you can remember new information is promising. Your cognitive and behavioural skills are, as far as I can tell, excellent. I would be interested to test your knowledge further. You may have skills that you don’t know you have until you have a need for them.”

“If I were to summarise… “ Ginger concluded. “And please let me know if I go too far off the beaten path as I find this area of research very intriguing.”

She stole a glance at Tequila. “Many would find it boring.” 

Tequila gestured with a shrug of his shoulders..”So what? I think it’s boring.”

Ginger turned back toward Harry.

“Are you comfortable?”

“As much as one could hope.”

“Please understand that I’m generalising here. Just the fact that you are interested in this subject and can process information is extremely promising. The questions I asked you, though random, I asked for very specific reasons.” 

“Our memories” she explained, “can be separated into two groups: Explicit and Implicit. Each of these categories can then be further broken down. If I can use your case as an example?”

Harry nodded.

In the clear and assured tones of a professor, she explained. 

“Explicit memories, or declarative memories, are those we consciously try to remember and recall. When I ask you a question, such as, “Where were you born?” to answer, you would navigate through your explicit memory.

“Explicit memory stores events and facts. This is your conscious memory. You know that you have them and can remember them when you need to. In your case, I asked you to recall a derivative of Pi. You did that easily. That would be an explicit memory. Your knowledge of different languages also taps into your explicit memory.” 

Harry was still, but receptive.

Encouraged by his attentiveness, she broke the concept down further.

“Of these explicit memories, there are three different types. The first two are episodic and semantic memories. Do you know what semantic means?” She asked him.

“Of course. That which is related to language.”  replied Harry.

Ginger was pleased.

“Exactly. Our semantic memory stores knowledge about words, concepts and language-based knowledge and facts. Knowing the definition of “Semantic” is, in fact, a semantic memory. So is your knowledge of Pi in relation to the numerical expression, and the ability to speak different languages. This part of your memory seems to be unaffected.”

She checked in with Harry. She had the tendency to explain way beyond the interest of the listener. He confirmed. Go on.

“The second kind of explicit memory is called episodic memory. This is information about events that you have personally experienced. For example, if something looks or feels familiar, you’re probably trying to pull from your episodic memory. Times in your life, people, places, emotions and context that make up the events in your life. The what, when, where, how and why of your memory.”

“This seems to be a large part of your memory that has been affected and it seems to go back for a very long time. Typically, when you see lapses in episodic memory, it’s usually the more recent memories that can’t be accessed. Memories of childhood are still there.  In your case, your entire past seems to be wiped.

He asked his first question. Well, other than the first two, but that was at gunpoint, so they didn’t really count.“Then how is it that I still have all of this knowledge.”

“Yes, just getting to that. Now we move over to your implicit memories. These memories are not part of your consciousness.”

She took a breath. “These memories are based on behaviours and movements. Memories that are retained through practice and repetition. A learned skill would be part of this memory.”

She had vast knowledge of memory loss due to brain trauma and she welcomed the opportunity to share. “There are two types of implicit memories. Procedural and emotional conditioning.”

“Procedural stores information about how to do things. Why you are able to perform actions without consciously monitoring the sub procedures that need to be pieced together in order to perform the task. Or, more simply, it’s the reason you can brush your teeth without a second thought. It is the memory for skilled actions.”

“This part of the memory is why you can do things without thinking about them. You know how to drive a car. But you don’t know if you own one. You can play chess, but you don’t know if you played competitively. Same with the piano. You can shoot a gun, but you don’t know if you’ve ever killed someone. Even something as simple as brushing your teeth is part of this. You don’t have to consciously think about every sub action you have to make, or the motor skills involved. Probably the same way with a gun. If I asked to take apart and reassemble Tequila’s gun, you could probably do so without knowing how or why you possess that skill.”

“Lastly is Emotional Conditioning.  This can be a little trickier to identify. I would have to ask you more questions to see how this part of your memory was affected. These memories are made through classical conditioning, associations made through stimuli. You know what an orange is. You know what they smell like. It reminds you of Christmas. This is emotional conditioning. But you can’t remember any Christmas that you’ve had. That is your episodic memory.”

Harry looked openly thoughtful. He was no longer guarding his expression. The softness took years off his face. It was hard not to just stare at him. 

“There’s one more category of explicit memories that is important. Autobiographical. This memory system is made up of both episodic and semantic aspects of your memory. It’s a collection of memories specifically related to the self. This could be how you look, your height, specific meaningful points in your life, or the general idea of your concept of self. Which is why I asked you questions not just on how you look, but how you, yourself, viewed your looks.”  

“You know what a gun is. Semantic. You know how to shoot a gun. Procedural. You don’t know if you’ve ever killed anyone. Episodic. Killing someone is only acceptable under certain circumstances. Emotional conditioning. But without knowing whether or not you’ve ever killed anyone, you believe you are a good person. Autobiographical.”

“In regards to the actual landscape of your brain, your cerebellum and prefrontal cortex seem to be the least affected.  In addition to contributions to implicit memory, conditioned responses, fine motor movements, posture and coordination, the cerebellum also maintains internal representations of the external world, which allow you to move in darkness as long as the room or space is familiar to you, and how you would need to position your self to aim a gun and hit a moving target.”

Harry was still engaged, so she went on. 

“It seems the hippocampus was the most affected by your injury. This would make sense based on the entry point of the bullet. This part of the brain processes declarative and episodic memory, people, places, and things as well as recognition memory.” 

“I know that’s a lot to take in. I’d like you to rest in the meantime. You’ve only just woken up, in well, less than ideal circumstances. Even though you say you feel “acceptable” you are still recovering from a major injury.  We’ll follow up with you more frequently, now that you are awake.” She wasn’t asking.

Harry, for the first time, addressed Tequila. “I take it that she is always the voice of reason.”

“Without fail.”

“And I assume there is no sense in arguing.”

“None at all.”

——

For simplicity’s sake, they assumed that he was from the UK as many of his mannerism and idiosyncrasies were quintessentially British. Tequila had gotten into the habit of calling him Hart, or The Brit for short. Harry, who was not one for such informalities, was amused. He did, however, recognise that Americans, as well as Statesman, were more easy going and relaxed in their word, dress and interactions with each other, overall. 

——

“Was there anything, physically, or possessions that I had on my body when you found me, that would offer any clues to my identity.”

Ginger paused. “Well, Harry, we found you in quite a unique state.”

They had already been over the event numerous times. But Harry knew that little details were often overlooked the first time around and could surface after a spell.  Ironic, since his own memory wouldn’t be surfacing in any amount of time. He would have rather used a more elegant metaphor, but he was like a top notch computer with nothing to process. All of his files were wiped. Who knew if they were recoverable. No use in wondering. 

When Ginger Ale and Agent Tequila found Harry, he had made quite the impression. As the helicopter descended, Ginger and Tequila saw him closely for the first time. He was splayed out, flat on his back, unconscious, with a bullet through his eye, wearing of all things, an impeccably tailored, navy pinstripe double breasted suit. He was fully decked out with all the details. Spread collar, tie with a Windsor knot, suspenders, oxfords, even a tie pin, cufflinks, a pocket square, and a signet ring. It was a sight not often seen in their part of Kentucky.

While Ginger attended to the man, Tequila checked the church. It was the site of a bloodbath. This was no mass shooting. A mass shooting would be clean and simple compared to what he found inside.  These people had been slaughtered. Creatively. Luckily, whatever or whoever the threat was that had massacred the congregation, had departed. 

Harry had definitely been involved in the bloodshed, but to what extent, they did not know. The tell tale signs were on his suit. It hard to see the bloodstains against the dark wool, but there were unmistakable splashes of red on the crisp whiteness of his cuffs and collar. It was torn in places, whether from a weapon or some other object, one couldn’t tell. But mostly, the proof was on his hands. They were stained with blood and gunpowder residue up to his wrists. He did not have any weapons on his person when they found him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one inside. Nevertheless, a person doesn’t get that much blood on themselves from using a gun. Even at close range, the blood spatter would spray backward. 

Whatever he had been involved in, it was up close and personal. Rage sound waves plus the expert skill and killer instinct of a veteran assassin could definitely equal the carnage that was left behind. He was fitted with a shoulder holster, but no weapon. They didn’t have enough time to search for identifying evidence in the church. The object that they found the most interesting were his glasses. Handsome, squared off, dark tortoiseshell horn rimmed frames. But it was the lenses that revealed the most about him. The glasses told them he was intelligence. They just didn’t know whose.

Intelligence agents, as a rule, never carry anything that can identify them. Harry was no exception. His clothing, even his shoes, though exceptionally well made and no doubt very expensive, bore no labels. It was all bespoke, custom made to fit him, and him alone and as a result, no identifying markers.

They tried to reverse engineer the communications transmitter from the remaining lens. They also attempted to disassemble his watch, but both were designed to withstand and prevent external tampering. Whoever designed them was talented and had the foresight to put anti-tampering mechanisms in place. 

Of course, they had run a facial recognition and prints through their international database, but as they expected, there were no matches to be found. They couldn’t investigate thoroughly without compromising his safety. Obviously someone wanted him dead. It could even be his own agency. More than once, had an agent been removed by their own employer. The threat might still exist. Nor could they risk the anonymity of their own agency. 

They scanned news for anything surrounding the Kentucky event, who was involved, any unusual occurrences that happened at the same time, but they only found information on Valentine and his cohorts. They even kept their ears open on the secret spy wire, to see if a fellow agency was looking for an operative, or had an agent who had gone rogue, or had one go dark. They didn’t have any luck. It’s not like they could put out an “if missing an agent, please call” flyer. While Harry was recovering, they also put out feelers for possible missing persons that matched his description in the civilian world. Even if he was an intelligence agent, that didn’t mean he didn’t have a cover in place, a backstop that could possible lead to his identity.

His accent immediately suggested he was from the UK. However, his lack of a specific regional dialect, made it difficult to narrow their search criteria. Harry’s accent was that of the Queens English, or RP Received Pronunciation. Which might mean he was from Great Britain, or any of the commonwealth countries. Their contacts at MI6 and MI5 received a little exchange of information to see if they had any leads, of which there were none. Whatever agency that he was with, was not government funded. Of course there was the brotherhood of clandestine intelligence agencies across the globe. But in this circumstance, they did not want to broadcast that they were potentially sheltering an agent that could have possibly blown his cover, been burned, or been compromised in any fashion. The safest avenue for both Statesman and Harry was to remain inconspicuous until a tangible lead was discovered.

Because, at the very least, he was intelligence, and so were they, they were curious as to his specialty, his area of expertise. Handling a gun was part of every agents training, no matter where their loyalties lie. It was no surprise that he was comfortable shooting a weapon. All agents were. It was possible that he could be a clandestine officer, or focus on espionage, recruiting assets. He could be an interrogator. He was intelligent, well spoken, articulate. Psych-ops, psychological warfare or diplomacy could be just as likely.  His fastidious appearance, polite manner and gentlemanly demeanour would certainly lend itself to international relations. Certainly a man with his physical attributes wouldn’t be secluded to a desk in analysis. With his charming personality he could possibly be a raven, a male agent employed to seduce people for intelligence purposes. That would be effortless on his part. He would just have to show up. There were many ladies that had taken notice of the handsome figure who was a mysterious presence at Statesman’s HQ.

 It was also feasible that he had cross specialties. Some of the specialties would be more challenging than others to assess. Weapons were straightforward. You were either good or you weren’t. Once he felt both physically and mentally up to task, they brought him to their version of Hogan’s Ally or the Farm, the FBI and the CIA’s, respectively, tactical training facilities. 

When Harry’s health improved, they discovered the true extent of his abilities. They were far greater than Statesman expected.  As Harry’s strength and coordination returned, complex tasks became second nature again. His body began to respond to the stimulus and he gravitated toward the physical challenges that Statesman tested him with. What they learned on the shooting range, then in the Statesman tactical training facility and Special Operations Division, they did not expect and were not prepared for.

Harry found the whole process amusing. If not outright entertaining. Losing ones memory had its advantages. One need not worry about expectations, preconceived notions or judgement. He would either be good, or he would not be. Either outcome would be acceptable to him. No one, not even he, would know the outcome until after the fact. And he knew how useless it was to wish for one scenario or the other when anything was possible.

What did happen, was that the challenges of their tactical installation were not capable of quantifying his ability. His skills far surpassed the most advanced exercise they had.

He proceeded to excel at every exercise, drill, and challenge they placed in front of him. He performed without thought, without hesitation, with the grace and composure they had come to equate him with. First, on the shooting range and then finally on their full scale replicated “warehouse” where they would simulate real life combat situations, including the use of live rounds.

The first test was for speed and accuracy and his knowledge of different firearms.  At the shooting range, they laid out a variety of weapons in front of him. The guns were unloaded. He was tasked with loading the ammunition in to the proper clip or magazine and then loading the weapon. He was to discharge the all the rounds at the target at the end of the range. Aiming for a kill shot either at the head or chest, release the clip and return the weapon and then move onto the next weapon he was familiar with. 

Statesman didn’t know what to expect, but the certainly didn’t anticipate what they witnessed. 

Harry had insisted on wearing his full suit as he did every day. The Brit was calm, cool and composed. He was neither excited nor concerned regarding the proceedings. More than anything, he seemed relaxed, but slightly more interested in the tactical challenges than the cognitive behavioural tests that they had him perform. They explained to him what the task was. One by one, load the clip, load the matching weapon, discharge all the rounds, release and repeat. 

Without any visible effort on his part, Harry loaded the first clip, loaded the weapon, and then seemingly without aiming, pulled the trigger.  The first several shots landed off mark. He adjusted and then fired the entire clip, alternating between two chest shots, followed by one round to the head of the target at the end of the range, chambering each bullet between shots if there was a slide. It did not go unnoticed that his method was the one used by assassins. They all knew, when eliminating a target, it was without fail, two to the chest, one to the head. He was still completing his follow through on the previous round, while reaching for the next clip, before releasing the clip of the weapon in his hand and switching to the next. He did this smoothly, with ease, dexterity and without hesitation with the entire set of weapons. One after the other, shot after shot, hitting mark after mark without effort. No fancy moves, no showy stance, just incredibly efficient, accurate, skill and technique. With the reverb of gunshots echoing through their ears, Harry laid down the last gun in line with the rest, turned toward the observing Statesman. His precision was astounding. 

 There was no perceptible change in his demeanour. He could have been doing a crossword puzzle for all the exertion that was evident on his face. 

“Does this suffice?” His face was pleasant. There could have also been the tiniest hint of amusement. 

It was Ginger that spoke up first. “I do believe, yes, that will suffice.”

Tequila regarded him not only like he was from a different country, but a different species of man all together.

 “How the hell ’dya do that?”

Harry gave him a good natured smile. 

“Knowledge of the weapons.” He continued plainly while smoothing out the front of his suit and adjusting his cuffs to their proper length.

“One must possess an understanding of the moving variables involved when discharging handguns, especially for a significant number of rounds. One must focus on accuracy, which involves trigger pull pressure and control, proper stance, a secure but consistent grip, taking in to account grip tension and fatigue. Excessive trigger pull weight will cause muscle fatigue of the index finger and can ultimately lead to task failure during pistol marksmanship.”  

While opening and closing his shooting hand, he massaged the base of his trigger finger. 

“With the variety of weapons that were included in this drill, one must locate the front site alignment based on the make and model and identify the site picture, either combat, center, 6 o’clock hold, if adopting a classic stance. However, front site becomes irrelevant in situations where the target is not in front of you.”

The Statesman were surreptitiously glancing at one anther. Was this man for real?

“And then one must consider breath control, trigger press and reset, and naturally, follow through.  Of course, one must account for situational awareness. Needless to say, it is far less complicated aiming at a static bullseye in a controlled environment,” He gestured to the range. “rather than at a moving target under enemy fire.”       

He spoke with an easy nonchalance, as if he were describing how to serve tea. Incidentally, last week, Harry had already instructed them on the official rules of how to prepare a proper cup of tea. He had looked vaguely insulted when he inquired about tea and Tequila handed him a cold bottle of sweet tea from a nearby cooler. Following this incident he educated them on the finer points of afternoon tea.

“First and most importantly,” he informed them.” Select the appropriate English tea.”

Harry recommended Earl Grey, Breakfast Blend, or Traditional 100’s black teas. Slightly more bitter than American teas, he informed them.

“Always use freshwater for individual steeping. Boil water between 180-200 degrees.”

Harry stated that it was imperative that the water is at boiling point to properly release the flavours of the tea.

“Slowly pour into a teapot over a single tea bag or loose leaf diffuser. Let it steep for six minutes. Remove the tea bag. Do not squeeze the tea bag. Pour the tea into a proper tea cup, not a coffee mug. At this time, one can add milk, not sugar, unless you want to disrupt the flavour of the tea.” 

He was firm on the following point. “Only milk, if you are looking to make a proper cup. The color of the tea with milk should have a dark orange-brown hue, similar to American coffee. Once the milk is stirred, the tea should be at the perfect temperature to enjoy. If feeling especially British, one can pair with scones and clotted cream.” 

With the same casual, relaxed ease, he continued. “Naturally, it helps if one is familiar with muzzle velocity, air resistance, barometric pressure, humidity, air temperature and wind speed. The quantity and quality of propellant used in the firearm as well as projectile mass and length of the barrel.”

He saw the blank stares of the Statesman agents. He equivocated, “Or in more simple terms, front site, trigger press, and follow through.”

If he was this level on the shooting range, they were eager to see what surprises he had in store for the simulation. If his performance on the shooting rage was any indication of his abilities, his proficiency on the full scale replica could very possibly be stupefying. 

Word traveled with the wind on Statesman grounds. The following day, allowing his shooting hand appropriate time to recover, Harry prepared for the real life simulation.  A variety of curious onlookers, from fellow agents, handlers and operations support began to gather in small, inconspicuous groups at the control center where anyone watching would have full audio and visual of Harry the entire time. 

The immersive course was situated in two enormous warehouses with an open courtyard area in between.  It was devised to test Harry’s technical and tactical skill. So far, he had shown exemplary marksmanship. But like he had mentioned, it was much less complicated to shoot with accuracy in a range under a controlled environment. The ability to perform with the same accuracy and precision under pressure is what separated a good agent from an exceptional one. They were going to find out which category Harry fell into.

Harry, as an operator, would have to perform under the following conditions; unknown target distances that vary from close to extended ranges, identifying threats and non-threats prior to engagement, making decisions under pressure, speed vs. precision shots, tactical movements, utilising different types of cover and tactical shooting positions to accomplish the mission, which was to come out clean on the other side. Firearms ranged from pistol, rifle, shotgun, carbine rifle, AK -47, as well as improvised munitions. There could be an active shooter scenario. A hostage situation. Anything was possible.

The Statesman insisted that he didn’t have to wear his suit during the engagement and offered him combat gear. His suit was certain to interfere with his maneuverability. He showed up to the course, fully attired in his classic pinstripes, down to the cuff links. He couldn’t explain why, but it felt completely natural and at ease. 

“One should always be able to engage in life threatening situations while properly attired.”  He explained. 

 Call it vanity, call it pride, but he only felt comfortable in suits when he was in a professional role. Wearing anything else seemed sacrilegious. He wasn’t going to wear any less for an evaluation, no matter what the evaluation entailed. And he was very particular. About his suit specifically. He had several suits tailor made by a firm of Statesman’s recommendation. 

The one concession that he did make regarding his attire was to replace his Oxfords with the Statesman issue cowboy boots. Cowboy boots, of all things. But he had to confess, they felt good on his feet. It was easier to cover the unfamiliar terrain of the Statesman property, which included dirt, gravel, hay, barns, and stables and various other interesting outbuildings. At least the boots still made a familiar sound on hard surfaces. He particularly enjoyed the hollow, rounded quality his footsteps made when he crossed Statesman’s many hardwood floors. Particularly in the large storage areas the housed the enormous barrels of whiskey while they aged. 

He was also pragmatic. The boots were definitely more appropriate on the occasions they went horse riding, or other “outdoor activities” that his new keepers might engage in. While he might be fastidious in regards to his appearance, he still valued practicality.  For the landscape of Kentucky, the boots were more appropriate. And they did indeed, have a satisfying click that was comfortingly familiar. 

While the course was being finalised, he tested his right hand by creating a fist and then opening his palm wide. He repeated this several times. There was residual soreness from the prior days drill, but nothing that caused him concern. In the simulation, there would be a wide variety of firearms and weapons available in the course. Not every weapon would be a handgun. A shotgun or a riffle could be braced on the shoulder. Different weapons would require a different set of muscle and therefore prevent repetitive fatigue.

His shooting hand didn’t concern him, he was fairly certain he could fire from his weak hand as well. He was curious to find out. He decided to try even if the opportunity didn’t present itself. 

As he entered the course, the Statesman gathered around the monitors.

Even in a suit, he manoeuvred like an elite operator. His movement was refined, graceful, efficient. He held himself tall when he needed to check and clear areas, keeping his spine in alignment. His footing was sure and stable as he maintained a mid-foot drive with every step he took, balancing his weight between the ball of his foot and the heel.

He was not one to peacock. His skills and technique always had a specific goal and end result in mind. Ego had no place in life and death scenarios. But on the course, after he completed a task successfully, he could’t help but push the level of his abilities. Explore his edge. He began following up his kill shots with a second maneuver from a trickier vantage point, or with a more demanding technique, adopting more and more challenging strategies and unlikely scenarios. Each time, giving a little bit more than was necessary. He wanted to discover the full capacity of his skill. 

On the course, he felt a new vitality. Whether it be due to the physical exertion of being in the field, or the mental challenges that sharpened the edges of his mind, he did not question. He simply allowed it to flow.

He attempted to fire from his non-dominant hand when the weapon and the cover required it. He adopted a canted shooting stance, firing the gun from a 45 degree angle, aiming for a target that would be impossible in his position with a right hand grip. Well, that was confirmation he could shoot with both hands. When he needed to reload, he also did so with one hand, just to see if he could. He could. With the slide locked to the rear, he placed the gun between his knees with the grip facing upwards. He slid the magazine and then locked it into place and removed the gun from between his knees. His hand hit the slide release and he got back into the fight in a matter of seconds. Some of those watching hadn’t been noticed. His technique and execution was flawless.

He fired on the run at a moving target who was using a “civilian” as cover and hit his mark.

He shot two weapons at a time.

He shot from behind his back. 

He could shoot through things and still hit his target on the other side. 

He could shoot away from a target, knowing that the force and angle of the ricochet would hit its intended target.

He used bullets as a tool, shooting items into place, to remove barriers, open doors.

He used bullets to adjust a reflective surface so he could see around a blind corner.

It was as if he was mapping the entire course and picturing it in his head while he moved. Once he scanned an area, he was immediately able to place the location in relation to his position and the rest of the course. 

Not only was he expert at weaponry, a top notch marksman, his physical capabilities far exceeded their expectations. He was physically fit, but it was beyond that. He was evolved. He had a body awareness, not only in control of his physical actions, but the awareness of his own body moving through space. (He would be one hell of a lover) At times his movements were economical, not wasting a single iota of energy on a motion that was unnecessary.

But the movements that he did come up with were impressive. One motion would seamlessly flow into the next like a dance. A dance with bullets and weapons, but a dance nonetheless. 

He could shoulder roll while aiming and discharging a weapon.

He could knee slide to dodge obstacles.

He could position himself to make a defensive position into an offensive one. 

He could use a target as a cover, while taking out the target at the same time.

He could practice hand to hand combat for close quarter contact, simultaneously hit targets on the periphery with his weapon. 

At one point he threw his gun forward in the air, while on the move, used both hands to catapult himself over a low wall while the gun was still traveling through space. He caught the gun, landed and then swung it around in his hand and used it as a cudgel to incapacitate a target before he had a chance to reload. 

Agent Tequila leaned in.

“Holy shit.”

“Mmm Hmm.” Ginger replied.

If they hadn’t witnessed it on the monitors, they would not have believed it. 

It seemed like the further he got into the course, the better he performed.

He moved faster, with more precision, solved problems more quickly, took out more targets.

His most valuable asset, even more than his marksmanship and his physical and tactical expertise, would be his sheer creativity and his ability to improvise on the fly. It was as if, when faced with a problem, there was always a solution. You could almost hear him say, “Well, let’s find out.” The methodology that he used could be seen as unorthodox. It often purposely put him in harms way, but that same method enabled him to open a door to a solution that previously had not been possible. It wasn’t that the proposed solution was not feasible. The solution did not even exist until he created it.  He was confident enough to trust his own judgement and took risks in only the most challenging situations.

Agent Tequila, “If there was a soundtrack to go with this, that would be some kickass music”. 

Ginger nodded. She had to agree. Watching Harry move the way he did in his suit? It might seem silly or old fashioned or traditional to think what she did. He looked noble, gallant, honourable even.

Harry Hart was never one to disappoint. When he was expected to deliver, he delivered and then some. He completed the course while beating Statesman’s record time. To the observers, it felt like he had been in the warehouse for a lifetime. Hadn’t he been moving in slow motion? Some of them even forgot to breathe. 

He burst through the exit on the other side. The doors opened to the sound of cheers and applause. The breeze was cool on his skin, while the sun provided an inviting warmth. The air was fresh and crisp. It was a beautiful day to feel accomplished. He left any residual stress or tension behind. He felt light.

This was not a sight that Statesman was accustomed to seeing after a course was completed. More often than not, the agent would appear dazed, distressed, a little shell-shocked, a little traumatised, perhaps even rethinking his chosen career. Not many were cut out for this kind of work. Rarely did you ever see one, not just capable of the work, but made for it, thrive on it. Harry Hart was the latter.

Harry was exhilarated in a way that he hadn’t felt since he regained consciousness. The calm, cool, collected, focused, deadly Harry Hart from the warehouse gave way and a new man took his place. His expression opened up with a vibrant laugh that changed the very structure of his face. Hell, it changed him into a different person. Whatever, walls, barriers he built had fallen aside, revealing his true authentic nature. He was a man who enjoyed being alive. When he grinned, it was easy to imagine that he would have no problem winning hearts. Certainly most of the females that had watched him take the course were left a little breathless, a little enchanted. And actually, the men didn’t look that much different. 

Why did he seem so attractive at that moment?  

Why did he look so charismatic as he stood, tall and confident in his pinstripe suit, outside the warehouse with an easy smile and warm brown eyes? What had changed from the time he entered the course on the other side? 

The man who started the course had been handsome. The man that came out at the end? It would be easy to fall in love with him. That man was beautiful.

They were seeing a man in his element.  

They were witnessing a man finding his identity.

He seemed more present, more there, more alive. 

He finally felt like he had a place and a purpose. 

When he woke up in the medical ward, his first thought had been:  “My name is Harry Hart.” 

It was different now. There was a connection, a new realization. 

Now he was awakening outside the warehouse.

This time around, he thought to himself.

“I am Harry Hart.”

His brown eyes appeared even more golden in the sunlight. They were warm and inviting. No longer cold. No longer closed off. The light wind tossed a lock over his forehead. In a rare gesture he ran his hand through his hair.

He slung the communication headset around his neck, but not before jesting.

“All right.” He said definitively.   He paused for a moment.

He grinned. “Would you like to see that again?” 

——

What they discovered when Harry completed the course. …Whatever past Harry had come from, he had advanced tactical and technical skills that had muscle memory and strategy so ingrained into every fiber of his being that he didn’t need to think–he simply acted. In the face of immediate life threatening danger, he didn’t merely react to a situation. He took charge. He didn’t make decisions to survive. He made decisions to win.

They had to assume an agent of his caliber would be missed by his organisation. His talent, skill and expertise, if found in an agent, you very well make sure that agent stays in your employ. It was even likely that he was a senior agent or a director. They could certainly imagine him in a leadership role. A complicating factor could be that he was presumed deceased, and therefore, there was no chatter on the wire where you could find information, if only you knew what to look for. 

——

After Harry had literally triumphed over the course, there was a new aura about him. Before the trials, though he was always the perfect gentleman, he was reticent, distant, not quite aloof, but definitely keeping himself an arms length away. Both physically and metaphorically.

He wasn’t one to participate in any activities that weren’t directly related to him. He certainly didn’t spend time in the lounge, conversing with the others or stopping in for a cocktail. He didn’t socialise with any of the others. He would politely participate in conversations that happened around him. Could be quite engaging when immersed in a topic he was intrigued with. There was an unspoken invitation that he was always welcome. In addition, one of the Statesman usually asked him to join directly. Harry would always politely decline. Not offering a reason or excuse, but simply turning down the offer in his quiet, but firm way.

He answered questions that were directed to him, but when the conversation took a turn away from work and into more personal areas, he would offer his apologies and depart for a quiet location. He could often be seen a little aways from campus, sitting in the sun, an open book in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. 

He never spoke of his past unless he was questioning Ginger or Tequila for any information that they may have overlooked when they initially found him. By all appearances, he seemed to be handling himself well. Especially under the circumstances. But since they didn’t have a frame of reference, they didn’t know if he was usually so reserved, or if this was a result of the situation he found himself in. 

They found that he could horse ride. Once he brushed up on tacking and the most basic fundamentals of horsemanship, he was able to recall the rest on his own. He only rode alone. He never left the campus unless it was required by Statesman. He wouldn’t have anywhere to go besides. The only time he was away, was when he was on horseback. 

He did make an exception regarding his attire when it came to this activity. The Statesman all rode western style. A suit wasn’t the most appropriate. If they rode English, he would have requested a riding habit. His compromise? A pair of trousers, and a button down shirt. No suit, no jacket, no tie. Regardless, he did make a striking figure on horseback. Once he was, quite literally, back in the saddle, he handled himself gracefully. He was both firm and gentle with the animals and they responded to him in turn. He seemed more at ease and communicate more with the horses than with people. It was auspicious, though, seeing a cowboy hat perched on this head. 

They kept an eye on him, at least from a distance. Making sure that they caught any signs of undue stress, mental or emotional problems, disassociation, anhedonia, or displacement. The side effects of amnesia were hard to predict. If a person is unable to reclaim their lost memories, they would have to start rebuilding their history from scratch. This was easier for some than others. The older the person was when they suffered memory loss, the more difficult it became to let go of a past they no longer remembered.

With Harry being older than most of the Statesman, he may be having a harder time assimilating. Even though upon waking, he was coherent, intelligent, adaptive, accepting of his situation, once the realisation sets in that their condition is permanent, there may be a later period of denial that was similar to grief. Suffering the loss of their identity. 

Looking at the person that he was before the physical trials was like looking through a window that was covered with a thick film of dust. You might be able to discern that there was something significant, meaningful, worthwhile on other side of the glass, but it would always be a shadowy, vague, dim suggestion of what it actually was.

The tests had cleared away the dust and debris until the glass was clear, crystalline, perfectly see-through. And what had been behind the glass suddenly shone through. That person was the real Harry. Not the shadow form that you would occasionally see, always crossing from one place to the next. Hardly ever still. Never comfortable to remain in one place for long.

After the trials, he was more open, quicker to smile and engage in conversation. Though he would still refuse invitations on occasion, he would be more willing to accept with equal frequency. They discovered he could be quite the conversationalist. His dry wit and biting sense of humour was a welcome change to the often crass or juvenile comments from the male agents. 

If he wanted to, he could easily hold court. His accent and his deep voice were as captivating as his words. But never did he dominate a conversation. He always made a conscious effort to include everyone’s remarks and would even ask the opinion of those who looked like they wanted to say something, but were hesitant for one reason or another. He was more than willing to have someone else take the lead in a conversation, but if the conversation veered in an uncomfortable or inappropriate direction, he always managed to guide it back to civility. Not that he was opposed to a healthy debate, but he did believe that some words should be either said in private or not at all.

He was just as expert at navigating social situations as he was the field. This was a surprise to them since he was so withdrawn at first. They discovered that he was just someone who never wasted words. 

Not only did he become an increasing part of the fabric of Statesman’s front, he also participated more in the intelligence side of the agency. His insight was valuable, his strategies were sometimes unexpected but always effective, and his analysis sharp and concise. He didn’t go out into the field on operations, but he often assisted handlers and their agents with more demanding, complicated missions. Many times he was able to foresee an obstacle that they could avoid, or lead them out of an operation that had gone sideways. At first, the teams were hesitant to request his assistance, whether they were averse, intimidated or just nervous to approach him. But as he led teams into more successful missions, with less loss, less injury, less risk, he was often sought out, his time claimed in advance.

If he missed the field, it didn’t show. They still didn’t feel comfortable sending Harry out on assignment and he never requested a mission. They feared that the lack of direct action, the kind that he had participated in during his test course, would revert him back to the state where he was listless, closed off, removed. But he did not regress. If anything, he become more. It was difficult to explain to someone who didn’t know him during his transition. But with every passing day, with every new interaction, with every mission that he assisted, with every training session he held for advanced weapon and tactical skills, which he did have to admit, he particularly enjoyed, he just become more himself. 

By the end of the year, he was The Brit. Everyone knew him. Everyone adored him. He was free with his smile, his laughter, with a kind or encouraging word. His pinstripe suit was now a common site on campus. He had his own group of women that would pine after him, though he remained firmly unattached. His opinion was respected, his advice valued, his critiques, though sometimes harsh, were always considered constructive. 

He was not exactly gregarious, but he was a very skilled conversationalist. He could exchange witty repartee, as well as engage in topics with depth and you could trust that there was always something interesting on his mind. When he excused himself for any reason, you were left knowing more, feeling more, thinking more. However, by nature, they learned, he was a reserved and private person. But whatever walls or fences that he had constructed at the beginning of his stay, had slowly but consistently been deconstructed. On that bedrock, he wasn’t rebuilding his history. Without even thinking about it, he was fashioning a completely new one. 

The last year had been spent laying down the foundation for his new life, accumulating building blocks, each experience a new row of brick and mortar. He had let go, completely, of who he might have been in the past. The exercises that he and Ginger went through to try to recover his memory, from hypnosis, light therapy, trauma induced memory retrieval, did not work. After not even a modicum of success, felt that he spent an appropriate amount of time trying to regain his memory. He accepted the fact that his memory was gone. That he would be best to move forward. Not to look back. It was simple really. There wasn’t anything to look back on. So he began his life at Statesman.

—-

His awareness circled back to Statesman HQ, to their stateroom and fully to the present moment.  Ginger was explaining the last of the progress he had made during his year at Statesman.  He had finally reached a point of satisfaction with what was his life. Was he looking for more? Perhaps. Contentment wasn’t a natural state for him. There was always room for growth, for learning new things, and having new experiences.

However, ironically, not just because of the amnesia, he was not one for looking back. He felt that he had always been this way. Now, here were three individuals who were asking him to do just that. Asking him very earnestly, sincerely, and genuinely. 

Like the girl had said, his instincts would be triggered if they were being dishonest or withholding information.  He believed they were telling the truth and had nothing to hide. But for once, he was at a loss.  What was he to do with this information?  Was it even possible to be the person they wanted him to be? He was looking for an answer, but could find none.

He tested the weight of his questions. Was this a burden that he wanted to carry? Does a past that you can’t remember even matter? Should it even? Perhaps the only reason would be to recognise the relationships with those who still remembered you. Where was the honesty in that situation? Wouldn’t faking a past that you can’t remember be just as bad as pretending that you are the person that you used to be. While organising these questions in the folders of his mind, he kept his face calm and neutral. He didn’t have to decide anything at this moment. But he did need to establish boundaries.

He couldn’t give an answer to these three individuals. But what he could do was help them in their current situation. Help them find out who had destroyed their agency, what they were planning and how to stop them. At least, that he could offer. That, he could do. The rest would still be there. Problems, if ignored, only became more vexing. He would look at them later. Perhaps the answer would come to him.

“My sincere apologies.” He started. 

“Ginger is correct. I suffer from amnesia and I recall nothing about my history. Nothing prior to my time recovering here at Statesman. While I retain the skills and knowledge that I possessed in the past, I do not have any memory as to how or why I have them.

“We have tried every means available to recover my memories, with no success.” 

“But we are here now.” Merlin interrupted, encouraged. “We can remind you. Perhaps trigger something that makes you remember.”

“We can help. He’s right. “ Eggsy added. “Who knows more about you, than Merlin?”

Roxy nodded in agreement.

It was probably the first time the group looked somewhat enthusiastic.

Ginger interrupted. She was worried about this. She would have to be the one to grab their hopes and tether them back to reality. 

“Not to discredit your suggestion. If this were a different case, then yes, there is the possibility that it would work. But when someone is suffering from retrograde amnesia, unfortunately, their memory cannot be recovered by simply being informed about their personal experiences and their identity. What you are referring to is called the reminder effect. This would consist of re-exposing the patient to past personal information. This can work for other types of amnesia, but simply giving Harry details of his life won’t help him retrieve memories.”

Eggsy eyes narrowed. He was dubious. He was convinced something they said or told him could surely open up the gates to Harry’s memory. They just needed to try.  They just needed a chance. They hadn’t even had the opportunity to say anything to him at all. They looked toward Harry, imploringly.

Harry was his usual respectful, attentive self. But his expression was guarded and he was quiet.

Their frustration limped across the table in his direction. Ginger needed to redirect.

These people had been through hell and back. But Harry was her patient. And he was Statesman now, regardless of his pinstripe suit, his accent, or his British mannerisms. As much as she sympathised with their situation, there was the risk that Harry’s progress would stall or that he could relapse. The worst thing they could do would be to insist Harry be someone he no longer was under the misguided notion that they were helping him. Harry would be trapped, defeated and they would only face disappointment.  Ginger arranged the words carefully before she spoke.

“Memories are exceedingly intricate. But to simplify, making a memory involves storing information in the brain as a specific pattern of electrical activity.” she explained.

While avoiding excess jargon, she wanted to emphasise the complexity of Harry’s memory loss. If only it were as simple as forgetting something and not being able to remember.

“When we recall a memory, we recreate the pattern of electrical activity that formed it in the first place. This information is then distributed across different regions in the brain to retrieve the memory.  Injury in any part of this circuit can fracture memory function.  It’s not that the synapses, the path, necessary to make these connections, is blocked. It’s much more than that. There’s nothing at the end of the path. There’s nothing to retrieve. It is as if the memory was never made. It’s not hidden. It’s not in the subconscious. It’s not filed somewhere deep in his psyche. It simply does not exist.”

Disheartened. Dejected. Depressed. The three of them were the dictionary definitions. Ginger sighed. Being the bearer of bad news was never a party, but this was less than enjoyable.  However, she wanted to explain as much as she could so Harry wouldn’t have to. He had made so much progress in the past year. It had to be unsettling to face an unknown past, when you had made so much effort to be in the present.

Getting to her point. “Unfortunately, there is no established cure for retrograde amnesia memory loss. There’s no magic drug or deep-brain stimulation that jolts memories back into the mind. I wish there were. If recovery does happen, it largely occurs on its own.  With amnesia as a result of brain trauma, If you're really lucky, new pathways form among the remaining brain cells, like in stroke victims, or other parts of the brain take over from the damaged areas in what we call neural plasticity. But that is very rare.”

“Sometimes, the reminder treatment is more than ineffective, it can also be harmful. Too often, the stories people tell amnesiacs sound like someone else's life and it can be unsettling to them. Witnessing the disappointment of past friends, colleagues, and family when they can’t remember, or be the person who they used to to be, can be emotionally damaging. Having people tell you how to think and feel, or that you’re not who you are supposed to be can be distressing.”  

 “I don’t mean to be discouraging or unsympathetic. It’s crucial for us, for our own sakes, but most of all, for Harry’s,” she placed her hand on his forearm for emphasis, “ that we are realistic.” She wanted to be very clear as she drew her hand back and made her final, essential point “Do not make expectations that can only result in disappointment.”

As Eggsy, Merlin and Roxy discussed Harry’s future with the other Statesmen, Harry claimed this time to examine the three faces across the table. He set aside any of their mannerisms, agitations, conflicts that were due to the current circumstance and concentrated on what he believed to be their true and natural state. He didn’t try to analyse them, judge them or question what he saw. He tried to feel them. To feel the look in their eyes, to feel the expressions on their faces, to feel the quality of their movements.

He closed his eyes for a moment and just listened, not to their words, but to hear the sound of their voices. He felt their vibration.  Not only to see if anything sparked in his mind, but viscerally. A reflex, an intuition, a sensation that stirred something deep rooted in his bones. 

But his mind and his body were quiet and still.

It was time for him to speak up. Before he addressed them directly, sat up even straighter. Tall and silent. He did not make any of the usual gestures he did when preparing to take over a conversation. Familiar movements of brushing something non-existent off his suit, adjusting his cuffs, running his hand along the back of his hair, adjusting his glasses. He was still. His hands were clasped and rested on the table. 

Only seconds ticked by until everyone quieted along with him. Their heads all turned in the same direction. Harry could always pull attention to him without saying a word. 

He was also not one to hold back words that needed to be said. Time would be lost and nothing would be gained.  He did not want them to get their hopes up. He did not want to them to expect something from him that he could not deliver. 

For the second time, he opened with an apology. “I’m very sorry.” His eyes were sympathetic. 

They had the feeling he was preparing them for bad news.

His words were sure and resolute. There was no hesitation. No wavering. When Harry made a decision, he was firm.

“I do not remember Kingsman.” 

He shifted his weight forward in his chair, resting his elbows and forearms on the table and folded his hands together. It was a gesture of familiarity. He spoke directly to them, as if they were having a conversation. It wasn’t just reciting a statement. He knew, full well, they would be affected by his words. He knew that they would not be the words they wanted to hear. He knew it would be painful for them to be on the receiving end of his words, not matter how gently and honestly he delivered them. He would serve them by being unguarded, unreserved and up front.

He paused so they could process what he was telling them. 

“Prior to your arrival, I was not even aware of its existence.” He added frankly.

“I do not recall any relationships I may have had currently or in the past.” He spoke plainly.

“As much as you may want me to, and I recognise that you do, and I understand where that need comes from, I cannot say, in all honesty, that I know you.” 

Harry was nothing if not direct. 

His eyes held each of theirs. He saw the dejection in their faces. He could not help but feel empathetic. It was obvious that, whoever he was in the past, these people cared for him very deeply. Perhaps even loved. But for Harry, he was never this person and he was never one to fake an emotion he didn’t feel. 

He was compassionate, but firm. "I’m unable to say I even recognise you. I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not the man you used to know. I may look like him, I may sound like him, at times I may even act like him. But I am not him.” His voice was kind now. His face was gentle. His expression no longer guarded. 

“However meaningful your relationship was, no matter how strong the connection, I am unable to reciprocate in a way that would honor that bond.”

With an honesty and an openheartedness that touched all their raw wounds, he offered.

“It’s not that I can’t remember the Harry I used to be. Or that I do not care. It’s obvious that your relationship with this man was very important, very meaningful, to all of you.” 

He softened both his voice and his manner.  

“It is, that this person you used to know, in my eyes, he never existed.” His face gentled. Became grave and solemn, almost tender. 

“Do you understand?” 

And for Roxy, Eggsy and Merlin, that perhaps was the most painful moment of all. Because with the kindness they heard in his voice, and the softness they saw in his eyes, the way he held his concern for them, on his sleeve where they could see it, he was in that moment, everything that they knew and loved. He was their Harry Hart. He was their Galahad. 

-----

Whew! If you got this far thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, good, bad, funny, dumb, sad, WTF? Whatever.  

Always feel free to reblog, share with someone else who thought TGC had sooo much more potential. Or was pissed that they killed off Roxy. And don’t even get me started on Merlin....

[violetnotez]

HC: BNHA Boys x GN! reader whose feeling down

Anonymous: Heyo! If you've written something like this already please ignore this and sorry for bothering you! I'd like to request some angsty hcs (because hcs are the only thing my brain ever lets me read peacefully) for Mirio, Tamaki, Denki, Kirishima and Shinsou where their s/o or crush puts her hands on their face. Also, if you can, could you make the reader gender neutral?

Ohhhhhh yes Im in a angsty mood!!!!!

Warnings:

I made these with the intentions the reader and them have been crushing on each other, hope thats okay!

Pairings: Mirio x reader, Tamaki x reader, Denki x reader, Kirishima x reader, Shinsou x reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

m i r i o

Mirio is extremely observant

He knows exactly when and what mannerisms you use when your happy, angry, upset...

he knows you like the back of his hand, so when your not feeling amazing, he definitely knows

He would probably be really worried on the inside, but he has to be positive for you! So he puts up a big smile and his super goofy, dad-joke personality to hopefully get a smile or laugh out of you

He’d catch you with your head in your hand after school one day, the other kids bustling away as you sat under a lonely tree, looking extremely burdened with something

If you two were just crushing on each other, he’d be extremely worried, bidding Tamaki and Neijire a quick goodbye as he made his way over to you

“Oh hey y/n-are you feeling okay? You were looking pretty sad over here, just wanted to see if I can cheer you up!”

This boy is just a literal ball of sunshine as he stares down at you with the brightest grin ever

It doesnt matter if you tell him or not- he will listen to your feelings and give you the best adivce he can if you do tell jim, but he wont be offended if you keep it to yourself

He just wants to see you be the bright, happy person he knows and loves!

Would probably offer to do something or go get something you like, like take a walk in the park or get some ice cream

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

t a m a k i 

poor tama- he knows you arent feeling well its just he cant rack up the courage to ask!

Your usually at least a little more energetic than him

So he immeditaely knows somethings wrong when you shuffle your way into class, not saying much and going straight to your seat

Every morning he always anticipates you with excitement and nerves- cause he honestly loves seeing you, it brightens his morning, but Tama being Tama his anxiety kicks in 

And he just keeps thinking he’ll something embarrassing like stutter, your go mute, or start shaking, or god forbid he accidentally confuses by accident-

He will watch you with ihs eyes the whole time, instantly very nervous and worried for you-

Hes hoping that maybe its nothing, that maybe your just tired or feeling a little under the weather

But the moment he sees you put your head down he knows something is up- you look like your going to break down at any moment

Its going to take alot out of Tamaki, but he doesnt want you to be by yourself

But this poor thing has to give himself some time to collect himself- it takes alot out of Amajiki to be any type of bold

But he finally walks over to you, and sit across from your seat, his hands tucked into his lap and his hung low

“I-I-just wanted to see...if you were-feeling okay....”

You can tell this boy everything and anything, he is all ears and wants to help

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

d e n k i

Kaminari is such a sweet heart

Like he may seem like a flirt and it kinda sucks at times for him

Because you kinda “friend zone” him every time he makes a flirtatious move,,,,

AND POOR BABY JUST WANTS TO BE WITH YOU

but anywayssss

this boy is like attached to you and wants you around him 24/7

Like Momo doing a study group? Hes gonna invite you

Hes gonna train? Hes gonna run to your dorm room and see if your free

Bakusquad gonna go out on the weekend? Hold up hes gotta ask and see if you can come-

EXTREMELY ATTACHED TO YOU

So of course, Kirishima asked if he wanted to study a littl bit for a test the next day and hes scrambling to go and go ask you in your dorm if you wanted to join

hes so excited, almost like a little puppy, running to your room and opening up the door with a huge grin

“Hey y/n, you wanna come and- oh shoot, are you okay?”

Your curled up on your bed, your face in your hands, and then you peak through your hands and oh no you look like youve been crying-

He instantly walks over, his knees sinking into your mattress and putting a reassuring hand on your back

If you start breaking down, he WILL hug you

DOES NOT CARE

Also gonna be a sweetheart, calling you little nicknames that he gives you all the time

“Ahh cmon baby girl, dont cry...youre gonna be okay, sunshine, just wait, I promise-”

Hes gonna ditch everything until he knows for sure youll be okay- he’ll run and get his laptop and some food so you guys can just have fun and help you forget 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

k i r i s h i m a

THIS ^^^^ BABY ^^^^ RIGHT ^^^^ HERE

Is gonna take care of you!

Hes naturally very caring by heart, but when he sees his crush having a rough day!

Is gonna drop everything and anything for you

Like Kaminari, hes practically attached to the hip to you

(just like a tiny bit more subtle)

But Bakusquad DEIFNITELLLYYYYY knows about his little crush, and constantly teases but also hypes him up to get him to just ask you out

When he notices you looking a little blue, hes deinfitely going to be worries

No matter who he’s with or if hes by himself, he’s gonna leave and come straight to you to see whats wrong 

(*cue Bakusquad staring at him and trying to see whats going on from behind a bush)

Hes gonna be kinda nervous, you are his s/o after all- but he’s gonna push it away 

“Hey, are you feeling alright..you seemed really sad, wanna talk about it?”

hes going to sit himself right next to you and comfort you the best way he thinks he can

If you want to tell him whats going on, he is ready to listen and support you

If you just wanna sit in silence, he’ll sit with you and try to make small talk to get your mind off of it

He’ll probably tell a sorta embarrassing story of himself to make you laugh

And omg if you do UGH he’ll feel so happy and fulfilled cause yay he made you feel better!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

s h i n s o u

Shinso is pretty chill

So when he sees you looking really upset, he’s going to be worried but it wont show too much on the outside

He just extremely calm, which is probably a good thing if your emotions are heightened

Also, he knows you like the back of his hand

You literally cannot lie to him and say “your okay”

He will call you outtttttt

‘You look about ready to cry..so tell me, whats been on your mind? You know you can trust me right?”

Hes really good at being comforting

Like he wont SMOTHER you

But he’ll hold your hand while you spew out whats on your mind

Or rub your back if your bawling

You dont even have to tell him anything- he’ll of course try to pry it out a little cause he doesnt want those thoughts eating up at you

But he respects if you want to keep it to yourself

He will make sure to take care of you, bringing you water, blankets, snacks- whatever you need

And for the rest of the day, he’s going to make sure your right next to him

No exceptions

It is his personal duty to make you feel at least a little  better- no matter what

This will include sleeping in his dorm room jnfiifuwiufiwuefuiweif-

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Buy Me A Ko-fi! | Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Taggings:

Everything Taglist (All Fics, All Characters):

@bunnythepipsqueak​ @pasteldaze​  @ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia​     @notadrian​  @hithoeshi​ @sizzlingbarbarianglitter​ @sunnie-nugget​ @shoutosteakettle​ @we-mentally-unstable​ @sm0kingcrack​ @wesparklebitch @kac-chowsballs​

​Kirishima

:@pyrofanatic​

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Mirio

:@aservanttotumblur​

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

[fucnhg-slee-p]

Hard times

Robert Pattinson x liza

prompt: something stupid leads to something epic

___


This was it, the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.

“We can call it... uh, No cum december”

“What? That’s the worst name ever!” Rob laughed.

You and robert were having game night and having the oh so normal conversation about how you’ve never actually participated in no nut november and for some god forsaken reason, wanted to try it out.

This conversation would have been quite weird with anyone else but you’re known robert your whole life, and when college came around ended up being roommates, the luck was unbelievable. He was your closest and practically only friend so of course you could talk about things like this without it being weird.

“Okay, well I’d like to see you come up with something better then!” You retorted, laughing.

“Uh...well I don’t know, no cum December is fine i guess” he said chuckling, obviously not being able to come up with a better name

“Ha! Uno!” You said putting your last card down.

“What! That’s not fair, you definitely cheated” rob said jokingly

“Yeah yeah whatever you say.” You laughed while putting the cards away and pull out another game.

—-

By now the games were put away and the two of you were watching tv, cuddling.

“Hey! It’s almost 12. In 20 minutes you wont be able to cum for 31 days” you stated, pointing at the time on your phone. Robert looked away from the tv in order to look at you. “In that case ill be right back..” he quickly got up and you both laughed. “I guess I should take advantage of it too”

Both of you were very open with each other so mentioning that you were going to masturbate wasnt really that weird. the only issue was that right now all you could think about was him.. for most of your life you’ve been in love with him, you’ve been in other relationships but it never felt as good as being around robert so of course none of them lasted. It felt wrong to think of him while you were doing this but you couldn’t help it, especially when you knew what he was doing in the next room.

——

11:59

by now you were both back in the living room as if nothing had happened, talking about how dumb this episode of fresh prince was.

12:00

“It’s twelve now, if either of us fail we have to tell each other” robert said, reaching for the popcorn on the coffee table and eating some. “Yeah we have to be honest about it, no cheating” you replied, taking the bowl from him, leaving robert with just a handful. “Hey!” He exclaimed, mockingly upset that you took his popcorn, he threw his handful at you, laughing.

You retaliated by dumping the bowl on his head, “alright, thats it” robert said moving from his spot on the couch to get closer to you, he put his hands on your waist and started tickling you until you had tears in your eyes from laughing too much and begging him to stop. He was laying above you laughing from how cute you looked.

———

It’s been 6 days and you feel like you’re going crazy, everything he does is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You feel like hes doing it on purpose, what an asshole.

After a long day (or week) of studying going from class to class, you just needed to relax but you were constantly on edge and robert was making it much worse. Right now he was just standing by the fridge drinking water but it was somehow the most sexual thing you’d ever seen

“Robert?” You sounded kinda pissed off but you really didn’t mean to

“Yeah?” He took a deep breath after completely finishing the bottle, with some water dripping down to his shirt, what the fuck

“What the fuck are you doing?” You were done with his bullshit, yeah it had only been a week but it was torture especially with the way he was acting

“I’m.. drinking water..” he answered with a confused expression, throwing the empty bottle away and walking towards your spot on the couch

“Ok well stop being annoying” you looked back at your notebook to continue with your studies. “Hey! I didn’t even do anything,” he laughed “i think someone needs to get laid, you’re getting a little frustrated huh?” He teased, only making it worse.

“No im completely fine” you lied “I’m just frustrated with all this shit” you said gesturing to your pile of books. you put your head in your hands “god this is just so hard” you were talking about both situations but if you were being honest the main reason for how stressed you felt was because of this stupid challenge it wasnt even for money or some prize, its literally for no reason.

“I’m sorry Liz, i can help out if you want”

“What?” You quickly looked up at him with a slightly shocked expression that you’re sure he didn’t notice “if you need help with your classes and stuff I’m here for you”

“Oh.” you sighed in both relief and disappointment “no its okay”

“Well if you need me I’m here” he put his hand on your shoulder and it sent a spark through your whole body. “How are you doing with this challenge anyway?” You changed the subject back to the only thing you could think about

“I’m okay, it was really hard for the first few days but now its kinda fun, especially when you think about how it’ll feel at the end of the month, you know? Waiting so long and then finally-“ “ok shut up!” You cut him off, this was all too much. He laughed “uh, do you wanna play Mario kart?” He asked softly, rubbing your back “yeah sure, i think i need a break from this anyway” you smiled at him, making sure not to stare too long.

——

After about 2 hours of playing and him winning almost every time, you ordered pizza and played uno while you waited. The whole time you were stuck on the way his hands moved and how his arms looked so good in the shirt he was wearing, he knew you were half zoned out but he figured you were just stuck thinking about school again.

The knock at the door pulled you from your haze “ill get it, you put the cards away” you said getting up to open the door.

You both ate in a comfortable silence for a while, little did you know he was suffering just as much or worse than you were. At this point you were both shamelessly staring at each other without the other even realizing.

Eventually you realized he was looking you up and down as if you were the only girl in the world and hes been waiting his whole life to have you, you slowly looked away as not to startle him or let him realize you were staring too, or even caught into the fact that he was looking at you with such hunger, which by the way was extremely painful to see from how hot it was.

the tv was quietly playing avatar “if you had a flying bison what would you name it?” You broke the silence

“Hm? Uh.. I don’t know, maybe Bryan”

“That’s an ugly name” you laughed

“Okay well what would you name a flying bison?”

“I would name it robert” you said, forgetting that you were talking to robert

he smiled “aw you’d name him after me?”

your eyes widened subtly “no.. i would just name him robert”

“Yeah ok” he joked, his hand brushed your outer thigh, for a little too long

You inhaled sharply at the sensation. It was only a short moment but it felt like forever and as wild as your thoughts were running it was much much worse now.

You don’t think he even realized how intense that was for you, it must’ve been all in your head, you need to calm down.

———

Now it’d been 10 days, you’re surprised you lasted more than 24 hours, really. But god these last few days have been hell, you’re sure roberts teasing you on purpose, trying to see how long you’ll last when he ‘bumps’ into you or takes his shirt off because ‘it’s too hot’ even though it was freezing. If one more thing happened you were done. You were at the library, trying to catch a break from the stress, listening to music and reading a short novel that caught your attention, sitting in the library always made you feel good. After a few hours of being there you decided it was time to head back to your dorm, on the way there you got a hot tea from the local bakery.

Walking into your dorm you were greeted by robert, sitting on the couch watching some documentary about something stupid. “Hey, i got you a muffin” you said putting your stuff down and taking your coat off. “God its so cold out there”. You handed him the muffen and sat next to him, silently watching the documentary and drinking your tea, figuring out it was about aliens. Without your knowledge he wasnt watching the tv, he was intently watching the way you drank the tea, the way your lips wrapped around the cup was addictive to him. And then it happened, he stretched and you glanced at him from the sudden movement, right then you knew it was over, you took a second look and you could’ve died, his stomach was peaking out from the hem of his shirt and his head was tossed back, showing off his collarbone, and his arms stretched above his head showing off his muscles. You were done. You were completely lost in a trance, staring at him for far too long

“What?” He asked sounding worried.

“I cant do this anymore” you let out a breath you didn’t know you we’re holding. Your eyes trailed down to his lips for a moment and he realized what you meant.

“You need me, don’t you?” You almost whined when he said that, he knew exactly how badly you wanted him, there was no denying it.

You both leaned in slowly, testing the waters before your lips finally crashed together, your whole body felt electric, you were on fire.

Pulling away for a moment, you felt dizzy. Resting your forehead on his to let your lungs catch a break. All you could do was smile “you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that” you said leaning in to kiss him again. It felt just as intense as the first time, he pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, your hands gripping into his hair while his hands roamed over your whole body.

He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth and deepened the kiss, if that was even possible. He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs taking his time to get where you wanted him. “Please” you groaned, desperate for more

Obliging, he started to rub his fingers over your underwear delicately, gradually building pressure “mmh fuck” you moaned into his neck. “I’m already so close”

Suddenly he stopped and pulled away to look into your eyes. “Wake up”

“What?” You asked, voice laced with confusion

“I said, wake up” he said more aggressively this time, reaching to pinch you.

Your eyes opened and you were in bed, out of breath and covered in sweat. “What the fuck” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got dressed quickly.

Walking into your shared living area you grabbed a snack and headed out to class — you were running late so you kind of rushed out. On your way there you texted robert, making movie night plans for when you both got back to your dorm.

Every time you closed your eyes you could see everything from your dream so clearly. You were barely hanging on at this point

—

Walking back home was dreadful for a number of reasons, one, it was freezing, two, youd have to see robert and be the way you always are with each other and not accidentally let your feelings slip out

Your phone buzzed

You got a text from robert

“I got Wendy’s, get home asap! I’m gonna eat your food >:)”

Smiling to yourself you sent a quick response warning him not to and started walking faster. Forgetting how hard it was to keep your feelings down, you were just excited to hang out with your best friend for the night, even though you spent most nights together, you were never tired of each other

—

You opened the front door and walked inside “Robert! You better not have ate my food” you yelled through the small apartment

Robert walked out of his room half naked, his only covering being the towel wrapped around his waist. clearly he’d just gotten out of the shower. “Dont worry i waited” he laughed. There’s no way this wasnt on purpose.

“Go put clothes on so we can eat and watch our movie!”

“Why am i distracting you” he smirked, his tone changing drastically. Still standing by the front door He walked up to you caging you between the wall and his body “is it hard for you to focus when I’m practically naked?”

It felt as though all of the air left your body, you closed your eyes for a minute to try to keep your cool— “liza?”

You opened your eyes again and robert was standing in front of you, at a normal distance — fully clothed

“You okay?”

“Yeah sorry, just stressed. Everything’s fine”

These daydreams are fucking brutal

You both ate in a peaceful silence and watched Scott pilgrim. After it was over you were having a regular conversation on the couch

“I think I’m gonna head to bed, its getting late” you said, about to get up.

“Wait” rob stopped you, “i have to tell you something”

He said nothing, just stared at you while trying to figure out the best way to get the words out. “You failed didnt you?” You teased, knowing whatever he had to say was more serious than the stupid bet “no no, thats not it” he chuckled, getting lost in your eyes

He moved a strand of hair out of your face and kept his hand on your cheek. Both of you just staring, too scared to make the first move. “Rob?” He hummed in response, eyes flickering to you lips “what did you want to tell me?”

He leaned in and softly kissed you. Before he could pull away you held onto his face.

“I have a crush on you” he whispered into the kiss, deepening it.

You moaned in response, climbing into his lap “is this real?” You said with desperation. “I hope so” he said putting his lips back into yours, pulling himself off the couch and walking into his room with you in his arms, not breaking the kiss

he gently laid you on his bed and held himself above you, moving his lips down your neck and sucking on a sensitive spot. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, you sat up to help him get it off and he continued kissing down your body, stopping here and there until he made it to the waistline of your pants, he looked up at you while slowly pulling them down “please” as much as you loved how gentle he was being it was torture to go this slow “patience baby girl” he said kissing over your panties softly, moving them to the side he swiped his fingers through your folds then bringing them to his mouth, licking them clean “so wet already, how long have you wanted this to happen huh?” He said putting his fingers on you again. “Too long” you moaned.

Stopping his movements he pulled his ring off and put it on your finger, then continued his work, sliding his fingers inside of you now, slowly pumping them. “faster please” you cried out, grabbing into his hair. He thankfully started going faster, and faster and holy shit “fuck I’m so close don’t stop” your words were slurring together and you could hardly concentrate on anything going on beside the way his fingers felt “pleasepleaseplease” at this point the only thing coming out of your mouth was a string of cursing and pleas to keep going, and finally after two weeks of barely hanging on you felt so good it almost hurt, but he didnt stop there. He kept going, keeping up with his fast pace and now licking and sucking on your clit, you felt so sensitive it hardly took much to fall over the edge again and he still didnt stop until your third time and you couldn’t feel your legs.

“Holy shit” you said out of breath as he moved up your body to kiss you softly “did i hurt you?” You shook your head in response, moving your hand down his body, “no, you don’t have to”

“I want to”

He stayed hovering over you as you stroked him at an agonizingly slow pace. After a while you pushed him down to lay beside you and you continued to take your time. It felt so intimate. “I love you” you whispered onto his lips as you kissed him. “I love you too” he said with so much admiration in his eyes. You moved your lips down his body and kissed his tip gently “I’m close” he pushed his head into the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut “please. Faster”

You obliged, moving you hand faster and taking him in your mouth, matching the pace of your hand. “Liza” he moaned quietly. You hummed around him in response. “I love you so much”. With a few more strokes he finished and you pulled off oh him, “i love you too” you said laying down on his chest “i cant feel my legs”

“Good” he said, wrapping is arms around you.

[sincerlypadfoot]

Knock Knock (1)

Word Count - 2557

“What do you wanna do today?” I asked James Potter who was beside me hanging off the Gryffindor couch beside me.

“McGonagall's taking some people to Hogsmeade today, we could do something there if you want?” He suggested looking up at me from the ground.

“Peter is gone, who knows where and Sirius and Remus are studying in the room, wanna see if they wanna come with us?” I said shrugging my shoulders and taking James hand to help him up.

“Sure, their studying for the potions test we have next week, have you studied?” He asked as we walked up the stairs to the boys room. “I could use some help if you don’t mind,” He said then stopping at the door.

“Yeah i’ll help you, i’ve written all my notes down already so we can share and I can help,” I said to him opening the door to Sirius and Remus naked, ontop of eachother mid kiss. “Should have knocked,” I whispered closing the door and turning to James.

“Well, I don’t think they wanna come to hogsmeade, they got other things on their mind,” He said chuckling, not a second later Sirius opened the door fully dressed and a small nervous smile on his face.

“Sorry about that,” He said rubbing the back of his head. “Studying got boring, did you guys need anything?” He asked looking back at Remus who was tossing his shirt on.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to come to hogsmeade with us today, Peters gone and we were just about to head out,” James said to Sirius and Remus who were standing at the door. 

“Yeah that sounds nice, we’ll catch up, we kinda made a mess,” Remus said looking back at the paper that was scattered all over the ground.

“Have fun,” I said to the two boys and walked away with James down the stairs. “So what do you have in mind?” I asked as we stopped back in the common room.

“You should get a coat, I got a couple things in mind for today,” He said smirking. “Five minutes, right back here, we got a time schedule y/n,” He joked as I rushed up the stairs and into my room.

“Hey Alice,” I said to Alice Fortescue who sat on her bed reading a book. “I think James is asking me on a date today,” I said to her as I rummaged through my closet for my winter coat.

“How cute, did you Flitch caught two students out of bed last night, gryffindor,” She said letting out a small laugh. “In another prank shananigan again?” She asked.

“This time is was funny I promise, just wait and see,” I said pulling out my long burgundy winter coat. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” I said to Alice waving her a goodbye and running back out of the room and down to the common room.

“Holy I think my hair was starting to fall out you took so long,” James joked as we walked out together and towards hogsmeade.

“Oh shut it Potter,” I giggled opening the door to go outside. “Look their leaving, you shouldn't have complained so much this morning,” I shot back making him smile.

“Come on, lets get to the three broomsticks before it gets busy, i’ll buy,” He said throwing his arm over me and pulling me towards him making me laugh. “I was thinking we could go over to the joke shop, get a couple things for some pranks, then go wherever you wanna go,” He said moving his hand off me and opening the door.

“That sounds good, I think I want to get some new shoes for winter, look a free booth,” I pointed to a corner one, it wasn’t so busy as we expected. “Two butterbeers please,” I asked the waitress waiting for our order as soon as we sat down.

“So Sirius and Remus huh, they’re cute,” James said leaning back as he took a seat in front of me and just smiled. “It was pretty obvious though, their always all over each other,” He said chuckling.

“Yeah especially when we’re hanging out in a couple, they whispered things in each others ears and just laugh, we all new,” I said smirking and shaking my head. “Speak of the devils,” I said pointing to the two boys walking down the snowy pass.

“Hey James,” A group of a couple girls said laughing and giggling as they walked passed us, sitting down a couple booths down from us.

“Sounds like you got a couple admires,” I mumbled as James looked back and gave them a smile. “How cute,” I whispered to myself fading my smile away.

“Ohhh y/n, is someone jealoussss,” James joked looking back at me, putting both his hands on his cheeks. “Ohhhhh,” He said smirking and leaning back again.

“Sounds like jealously to me,” Remus said pushing me over playfully and Sirius jumped over the seats to sit beside James. Sirius put his hand over the side of his mouth and made kissing faces at me, making my face turn red.

“Four butterbeers,” The waitress said as four butterbeers appeared infornt of us. “And this is from the girls as the booth over,” She said placing a chocolate frog on the table and a note attached to the bottom.

“Your pretty cute, my room is first on the left, gryffindor,” James read outloud. “Seems I do have a admirer,” He said making Sirius nudge him and laugh about it.

“Seems like you do,” I said back drinking my butterbeer and looking outside the window and watching everyone walk by.

James and Sirius left the table and walked over to the candy porschen of the shop, leaving Remus and I. “So, you like James, just say it and I wont tell a soul,” He said turning to me.

“I’m not jealous of James getting a note from a girl, inviting him to her bedroom, I don’t like James we’re just friends,” I said crossing my arms and leaning against the window, Remus just slowly started smiling. “You tell no one,” I mumbled shaking my head.

“Don’t worry, your like my best friend, I wont tell my other best friend that his best friend told me that she likes her best friend,” Remus said chuckling, making me role my eyes.

“I got you a chocolate frog,” James said tossing a chocolate frog to me and sitting back down with Sirius who had a bag full of chocolates. “What were you saying?” He asked Remus who looked at me.

“Just talking about the plans y/n had today, not to much,” He said leaning over and grabbing some candy from Sirius bag. “How did the prank go last night?” He asked James and I.

“It went pretty good, expect for y/n almost falling down the moving stairs,” James said chuckling. “Anytime those damn stairs move we have to hold onto you, didn't expect them to move last night,” He said smiling at me.

“We just got on the stupid stairs and they moved, I wasn't even on the stairs, I swear they’re out to kill me,” I said to the boys we just laughed with me. “James you can’t even talk, you sneezed and almost got us caught by filch,” I shot back making Sirius laugh even harder.

“Oh don’t even start,” James said having a smile on his head from ear to ear. “Next prank i’ll remember this,” He said shoving the chocolate frog into his mouth.

We all talked for a bit more, got a couple more butterbeers and a lot more candy and sat around. Sirius was kicking my feet under the table the whole time as we shoved chocolate into his mouth ever couple seconds.

“Are you guys ready to go,” I asked looking at Sirius and kicking him one good time making him turn his head and look at me shocked. 

“Yeah, i’ll go pay, meet you guys outside,” James said grabbing our garbage off the table and walking to the front of the store.

“Why are you kicking my feet?” I asked Sirius nudging him as Remus opened the door for us. “I think my ankles are black and blue,” I said to him.

“You like James,” He shot up making me look at Remus who shook his head. “You looked at James and just stared hardcore when he talked about the next prank with you two, your in love with him,” Sirius said poking my cheek.

“I am not in love with him, you don’t know what your talking about,” I said to Sirius poking him back, James came out and Sirius was about to say something.

“Come on, I hear someone wants to look for a new pair of shoes,” Remus said putting his arm over my shoulders and walking towards the shop at the end of the path. “We’re probably the worst people to go shopping with,” Remus whispered as he opened the store door.

“Hey I think you should get these,” Sirius said poking my back, I turned around, not a minute in the store and he had a thong on his head. 

“Sirius Black, take those off your head,” I laughed covering my mouth to not encourage him. “James!” I looked over putting my hand on my head, watching him pick up a bra and put it over his eyes. “Yeah should have listened,” I said to Remus leaving the three boys to go wild as I walked away to the shoes isle.

“Hey,” Sirius said standing behind me, I didn't look back at him but contoured looking at winter shoes for myself. “Are you under, cause I can’t seem to wear you,” he said waving a pair of underwear in my face.

“That didn't even make sense you dork,” I said turning around and laughing. “Go put the underwear back, i’m not letting you know what kind of underwear I wear you weirdo,” I said making him smirk at me. “Look I got my shoes anyways, we can leave,” I picked up a pair of high heel knee high long boots and walked to the cash, where James was also buying something.

“Don’t look, I don’t want you too see the underwear I wear,” James said to me, mocking what I said to Sirius a couple minutes ago. “Just jokes,” He said picking his bag up from the counter and walking to the front of the door to stand with Remus. We all walked out a couple seconds later.

“So what's next on the list Prongs?” Remus asked as we stood outside the shop looking at each other.

“Prank store, we gotta get something for tonight, your gonna love this one y/n,” James said shrugging me and smirking. “One word, frogs,” He said letting out a big of a laugh.

“Your setting frogs loose in the schools, they sink,” I said making a disgusted face and opening the door to Zonko's Joke shop. “What the plan?” I asked.

“Frog Soap, place it in water and tadpoles come out, growing over the night, everyone will wake up with frogs jumping all over, there's like a hundred eggs in one soap bar,” James said rubbing his hands together. “Right here,” He said picking up five bars of soap in one wrapping.

“That’s gonna be a tough one to get out of, we’re in,” Remus said picking up another bar of soap. “We take downstairs, you take upstairs,” He suggested as James looked around the shop a bit more.

“That sounds great, I got that date tonight you know, so we’ll have to do it quick,” He said, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not but my heart hurted a bit hearing that. “Come on, I got everything we need,” He said taking the soap from Remus and placing it down on the counter. 

~

“One hour, back here, just place them in any water source you can fine, and don’t get caught, this is a huge one,” Sirius said as we stood in the common room with the soaps at hand.

“Sounds like a plan, any water source and they’ll be good,” James shouted picking up his cloak. “Take the map, we got the cloak,” He said handing Remus the map they had made together, with my genius mind.

“One hour,” I said as I slowly opened the common room door and looked out. “Shes sleeping, hurry,” I whispered looking up at the fat lady who was sleeping with her mirror in her hand.

“Come on y/n, I got the best place,” James said grabbing my hand into his and dragging me down the stairs. “Don’t fall,” He whispered grabbing my hand tighter as the stairs moved downwards, Remus and Sirius were on another pair of stairs already going down to the bottom floor.

“What's your great genius plan huh?” I asked holding onto the railing with my other hand as James still held onto mine. “Since you have that date tonight, we can go as fast as you need,” I said smirking but stopped when he looked back at me once we got off the stairs.

“Oh shut it y/l/n,” He jokingly said turning around and looking at me. “I don’t have a date tonight, I was just messing with you, I wasn't gonna go to that room tonight anyways,” I said chuckling at himself and walking into the bathroom. 

“Yeahh, so we just place these in the water and they’ll just,” I paused looking at the egg filled soap that I held in my hand. “become frogs in the morning?” I asked kinda discussed.

“Yeah, come on put your in,” James said placing his soap into the fountain that was in front of the both of us. “Someones coming hurry,” He hissed as I dropped my soap in the water and James cloak was drapped over me.

“WHos in here?” McGonagall asked walking into the room we were in. She was right in front of us, James hand covered my mouth as he slowly backed away from McGonagall as she put her hand out. “I swear I heard something,” She muttered shutting the door and walking out of the room.

“That was close,” I whispered as James let go of my mouth, I turned around to look at him and he just had a smile on his face. “What are you grinning at?” I asked.

“Your just adorable,” He whispered cupping my face and kissing me, I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and just kissed him back, we ended up leaning against the wall and just having the time of our lives.

“You know you two have been here for ten minutes, jesus,” Sirius said pulling off the cloak. “Nevermind, Remus I should have listen,” He said chuckling. “How the tables of turned,” He laughed looking back at Remus who stood with a smile behind him.

“How,” James said then rolled his eyes when he saw Sirius with the map opened up. “Shut it Padfoot,” He said looking back at me just smiling. “Come on, we’re done,” He said putting his arm around me as we walked  back to the common room, with a smile on both of our faces.