#i got a few asks in th past 24 hours that i was not expecting kgfjkgfj

[didderd]

guh i'm alive sorry i've been inactive for over a month. i don't really have an excuse. just that i haven't been feeling up to posting, and i've been distracted. i will try to get back to things, but no promises.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Alphabet of Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about some non-consent touches and sex; MDNI!!!!

A/N: I got this idea yet again from my bestie @yandere-heaven; please check out their amazing art :]!

Yandere alphabet draft is here.

Update: Grammer issues are expected. I didn't have time to double check. Sorry :/!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

— Considering from the beginning, his affection is subtle but meaningful. Simon is pretty wary of boundaries, so at first, he wouldn’t touch you without looking for any discomfort, rather letting you come to him, no matter how much he wants to touch or kiss you. But the further you two go, the more touch-starved he is.

The minute you allow a cuddle session or even something remotely romantic, he’s as stiff as a board. But, with more time and effort into the ‘relationship’, Simon learns what he and you like, which ends with him becoming a huge teddy bear that always wants to be hugged and kissed; his hands being on you some way or another.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— He’ll get as messy as he needs to be to ensure your safety is clear. He wouldn’t like to come home drenched in blood or have you fear him, which results in him doing a whole lot of things behind your back, assassinating people who are a danger, annoyance, or a mess to be with you. The situation gets worse if he finds out you are abused or hurt by someone. No one lives with hurting you, no matter what shape or form, he will kill them.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

— Simon only abducted you once he felt your safety was threatened (which is 90% of the time). While he does know you will have a hard time adjusting, and possibly feel uncomfortable or confused near him, in which he recognizes and doesn’t get upset if you snap or cry at him. However, what he needs you to understand is that this is for your protection.

He wouldn’t even mock you. With Ghost, he’s pretty soft towards you - never blinking an eye when you ask for a certain snack or gift when he’s out and about. He’s scarily calm, letting you do whatever you feel comfortable with for you to feel comfortable with him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

— Simon wouldn’t do a whole lot against your will, possibly a few being keeping you isolated for a few hours in your room if you are upset and a few rare non-consent touches. Other than that, Simon respects your boundaries, no matter how ‘weird’ or ‘confused’ it is to him, he wants you to love him as much as he loves you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— Ghost is more than willing to bear his heart for you - but for him to open up to you, it’ll take a good few years for him to fully reveal things towards you. It’s an extremely slow and private process. But once he does feel comfortable with being vulnerable with you, there are a few things that you are allowed to see that no others are allowed.

Not only will you be able to see his face almost 24/7 - which is harshly rare - but he will try to open up details about himself and his past life (his childhood and things he’s gone through). Confessing and being vulnerable is hard for Ghost, especially with the way his personality and his protective nature for privacy is built; with time, he believes the two of you could be more than ‘friends’ and something he’d like to call ‘his spouse’.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

— It doesn’t affect him. Much like I said in my original headcanons: he’s always a few steps ahead of you. And with his training tactics, he’s blocking your attacks with his, giving you a look if you throw slurs at him and ultimately will ignore you with a heavy sigh.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

— When it comes to relationships with him, he never considers this a game. He takes things seriously. Simon doesn’t enjoy it at all. He doesn’t like games with you nor using his already-tired muscles from missions to continuously chase you in the woods. It becomes irritating.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

— seeing him angry - especially at someone else. While he may get frustrated or upset at you, which he rarely shows. But again, Simon is unpredictable and he, as a yandere, takes your safety seriously.

The minute your safety is threatened in any shape or form, he’s getting incredibly gruesome; his body is covered in thick blood as he tries to console your freaked-out manner.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

— he’s never really had the minute to think about the future with you two. But, he’d like something calm and peaceful: growing old with you. Whenever he gets home, his shoulders have a minute to relax — the smell of you and home weaves in, your shared pets running up to greet him as he feels at ease, watching you from the front door as you make your way toward him.

Simon’s stress lowers down. He doesn’t have to worry about you getting hurt as he’s there. He loves relaxing in your arms, watching you ramble about things he missed while he was gone, and watching you interact with the family you’ve created (human children/or animals, whatever you decide).

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

— he does get jealous but he’s fairly good at hiding it, only a sign of his touches becoming more prominent. Simon will get irritated, clenching his fists while his eyes narrow towards the person flirting with you - however, the minute he approaches, his thick accent asking if you’re ready to head home and a hand wrapping against your waist, he sees the person shit themselves before leaving in a hurry.

While he does let you socialize, as that’s needed, Ghost is fairly suspicious of everyone he encounters, he’s not afraid of using his intimidating structure and scary voice to make the person go away.

When you two get home, he won’t get bothered or integrate you, rather asking if you are okay - but the minute he suspects you doing it on purpose is the minute your legs are incredibly sore for the next few hours.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

— Ghost acts almost the same as he would a non-yandere, acting as if the abduction never happened and you two are normal couples living in a cabin, far away from society. When he starts to ‘actually’ get to know you, his actual personality traits start to break out and Simon becomes a softy.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

— There are a few ways Simon can approach you, but the main two are that you’ve already known him by being in the military (or outside the military) or revealing himself after he abducted you.

With courting, he’s incredibly observant. High chance, he may know more than you may think: he knows your kinks before you two have sex or a certain friend you’ve never talked about is currently in Japan. Now and again, he’ll grab things you like, making sure that you know that he cares deeply for you. He pays attention to the slightest things - the way you move your hands when talking, and how quiet you get when you feel upset or scared. Or how your eyes move to certain things in the windows of shops.

He acts as if the two of you run primarily on the same road, slowly making his way into every crack of your life.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

— Somewhat. With his masking (no pun intended) and showing his actual personality, they both are completely different things. Ghost being himself, he’s the same: harsh, somewhat of a jerk, fast, and gets things done when they are asked. But, when he’s in the room alone with you, letting him show his real colors, he almost becomes a different person - his tense muscles relax, the mask falls off, and a rare smile of happiness while his eyes glint up when he’s with you.

In all truth, Simon’s more open, expressing things that are annoying him or simply telling you what his needs are; wanting to hold you as much as he can before he leaves again.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

— Ghost doesn’t enjoy punishing you but if it needs to be done, then it needs to be. There are a few ways of punishing you but if we are talking about running away/escaping, Simon will punish you by becoming a bit rougher/or demanding and stripping your privacy by 99%.

No longer are you allowed to have the door closed (unless that’s using the bathroom but it’s still minimal). Your wifi/electronics have a time limit and rarely are you left alone. At best, when he's home, Simon is in the same room as you - glancing at your at area to make sure you stay put.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

— Like most yandere’s, he would take most of them away and gradually give them back; watching how you use them. However, outside this area, Simon doesn’t allow you to use anything remotely sharp or considered harmful towards you and him (ex. knives, scissors, certain pencils, etc) and hide things from him. While he respects his decisions on diaries of sorts, if you are continually not allowing him to look through your phone, he will suspect something.

To be exact, this is the bare minimum. Simon is pretty subtle, resulting in you having a bit more than your average obsessor. He still lets you socialize - having your friends/family and can contact them for meetups, but he has to be there with you or know your location 24/7.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

— One of the few that are incredibly patient. To the point it’s considerably terrifying.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

— if you were able to escape him without being caught, he’s impressed. But rumors have said that the sheep can only hide for so long before the wolf catches up. Simon wouldn’t be able to move on until you get back into the cabin, regardless of the situation on how he does it.

If you died, this would be the one that would fully push him over the edge; he will mourn your death, waking up each day while reconsidering why he’s still moving on. You were his person. He doesn’t know what to do without you here. At best, he’d sit at home, barely eating, drinking, sleeping - just staring into the abyss as his heart has gone numb.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

— Sometimes. If you have harsh or upsetting tantrums, he does feel bad. But in his heart, he knows this is for your good. Sooner or later, you’ll see it as much as he does.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

— what brings this side out of him is by being a gentle/kind person, not caring for his harsh nature, and wanting to get the real side of him many don’t experience. While this may be cliché, you need to realize his life has been riddled and tricked with many gruesome and harmful things, and now all he wants is peace: someone he can rely on to keep his mind from going insane.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

— These behaviors don’t affect him, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it makes him uncomfortable but he doesn’t like seeing it either. He can easily stop these, the isolating is rarely gonna happen due to him always being in your space when he’s home. And the tantrums by just letting you have them - returning a few hours with comfort food of yours to feel better. As well as giving you Ibuprofen for your throat.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

— He’s always scarily calm, no matter the circumstance. No matter how cruel you can be, whether that’s throwing stuff at him, yelling things at him, or trying to attack him - Simon, somehow, always stays rational and rarely breaks character.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

— Honestly, it’s extremely hard to escape from Ghost as he’s a soldier; a trained combat assassin who’s incredibly smart and unlike any other MW2 yandere’s, he never lets down his guard; even in the safe house with the two of you.

The best two options would be using his past against him (ex. blaming him, manipulating, etc.), which is an extremely harsh thing to do - based on his trust levels and the headcanons above, it’ll take years for him to reveal things that have happened to him.

The other one would be forcing him to hurt you out of anger - which again - is almost impossible. He’s incredibly careful with you and his anger with you rarely ever shows. But if you continually push his buttons at the right pace and in the same spot, it’s expected to happen, which is not a pretty sight.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

— he would never intentionally harm you in any matter. But, if you test his buttons continuously, he may accidentally do so.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

— Simon wouldn’t worship you but rather respect you as his spouse. Neither does he want to be worshiped. He sees you as the only one for him. In this case, he will make it clear that he won’t like anybody else and will go to lengths to win you over, or at least have you comfortable with him. If needed, he will change his way of approaching or some of his harsh traits for you to fit in with you better, buying things that you adore and making sure that you feel at ease with him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— it all depends on the situation. If we are talking about you being in the military, a few good months to a year before he snaps; witnessing you get hurt badly that resulted in him having the same fear he had years and years ago.

A good childhood friend of his he reunites with? Within a few weeks. Not only were you precious to him when he was abused but you helped him through the few times of the hardest time of his life. Of course, when he sees you again, everything he was once will reveal itself again.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

— No. Again, you still have some form of freedom - you are allowed to see your friends and family, and only a few rules in place that he expects you to follow to a capital T.

This is probably the only reason you still haven’t gone insane yet.

—

Masterlist || Please reblog or comment instead of liking, it helps me a bunch!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[t-lostinworlds]

So for the youtube thing if you want to you can do a calling him Daddy for 24 hours prank thing? Or maybe just write a small blurb, please? I have seen videos like these on youtube and honestly would find it hilarious if Tom was featured on it and where he doesn't have a daddy kink so he gets embarrassed. Just a little blurb will be okay too!

Ps. I love the YouTube Channel series! And your writing!!❤

Stay happy and stay safe!💫

TH’s YouTube Extras: Calling Him Daddy Prank

a/n: i’m sorry that this is a bit late again hun but gosh you’re too sweet, thank you lovely! you stay safe too hun ❤ this was written quickly too, was going to post this an hour ago but i fell asleep while proofreading so i’m sure there’s typos still ahaha. hope you enjoy!.

☰ youtube channel | recent video

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"I'll go sit first. Give it a few minutes so he won't get suspicious," Harry whispered, grin mischievous as he clicked record on the camera he had on hand before treading towards the dining area.

Pranks have never been your thing, well, aside from the simple jump scares. When it's something you have to plan out or have to act thoroughly in, then it's always a pass. But as you got lost in YouTube, you stumbled upon a video of a woman calling her man "daddy" to see his reaction. You thought it would be hilarious to do it with Tom, especially when you already know he doesn't like to be called that, at all.

You're purely doing this for the laughs, to see that cute blush of embarrassment—or that pointed grimace of annoyance—that coats his face whenever he hears the word.

"Morning, Harry," you hummed as you walked in minutes later with a fake yawn.

"Morning, Y/N."

Tom was sitting at the head of the table, eyes on his phone while he sipped on his morning tea. He gave you a brief glance and a tender smile before his eyes were back on his device, probably reading an important email that had him and his mind properly preoccupied. You stood behind your man once you reached him, leaning down to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, giving him a light squeeze as you hummed,

"Good morning, daddy."

Tom choked on his tea.

You bit the insides of your cheeks to stop your laugh from escaping. He set the mug down with coughs to clear his throat, turning his head to gawk up at you with his brows deeply furrowed, skin already dusting pink. You only smiled innocently in return, placing a swift peck on his cheek before pulling away completely and disappearing to the kitchen, not giving him any chance to confront you about it.

Tom looked at his brother across the table with a frown set on his lips. "Did you hear what she just said?" he asked, to make sure if he heard you right or if his brain was playing games with him.

Harry tore his gaze from his phone, seeming clueless when he shook his head no.

"Hear what?"

***

You were now sitting in between Tom's legs, your back against his toned chest as you're both sprawled on the grass outside, all of you lounging under the afternoon sun.

"I need a snack," Tom announced, tapping your shoulder so he could stand up, dusting his sweatpants once he did so. "Want something love?"

You gave Harry a discreet glance, checking if he was recording before saying, "Just water, please daddy?"

Tuwaine and Harrison's eyes widened, Harry hurriedly shooting them a discreet look, silently telling them to stay quiet as he gestured towards the camera. The two boys got the drift real quick as they acted like they hadn't heard anything.

Tom visibly shivered, looking down at you with a scrunch of his nose as the crease between his brows deepened, skin turning red from the tips of his ears to the apple of his cheeks.

"Thank you, bubba." You beamed at him innocently, throwing in his favorite pet name to reel it back before he gets suspicious.

You looked too sweet and adorable that Tom could do nothing but roll his eyes. "No worries, darling," he sighed, head shaking as he retreated back inside the house to get you your water without another word.

***

Camera unnoticeably set up on the coffee table, you sat down on the living room couch and waited. As expected Tom came in soon after, never being able to be far from you for more than five minutes.

He sat himself closely beside you, a lazy smile on his lips as he wrapped his arms around your form. You were quick to catch on that he was in a mood, brown eyes slightly hooded, his touch hot as he gave your waist a squeeze. He was about to dip his head to litter your neck with kisses but with the camera right across you, it wasn't exactly ideal to allow it. So, you said the word you know would put him off.

"Daddy, no."

Tom physically cringed as he swiftly pulled away, arms falling limp with his face twisted in a proper grimace. "Stop that," he said firmly, voice laced with annoyance.

"Stop what?"

"You know exactly what," he growled lowly, raising a brow at you in pure warning.

"I don't think I do, Tom," you said naively, flashing him an adorable pout and a tilt of your head to match.

Tom was about to say something when Harrison suddenly walked in.

"Mate, can you help me with my table for a sec? It's wobbling and I can't figure out why."

"Yeah, sure," Tom muttered, narrowing his eyes at you before getting off the couch and following his best friend.

Once he was out of sight, you dropped on the couch with a hand over your mouth, unable to hold your laughs anymore as you shook your head in utter amusement. You sat back up with a loud sigh, shooting the camera a thumbs-up before reaching over and turning it off.

***

Harry had set up a GoPro in the kitchen when Tom suggested he was going to cook dinner tonight. You left him alone with his task for roughly about ten minutes, just to make sure his mind was clear from you calling him daddy for the past couple of times.

He was peeling some potatoes when you emerged in the kitchen, your hand landing on the small of his back as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"What're you cooking daddy?"

Tom flinched, eyes screwing shut as he blew air out his nose, your cue to step away slightly.

"Okay, that's it," he hissed, dropping the metal peeler on the marble with a clang as he turned to face you fully, arms crossed over his chest with his hip resting on the edge of the kitchen island. "What are you doing?"

"What?" You furrowed your brows at him with a small frown, feign innocence crossing your features. Tom shook his head at you with a dark chuckle, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

"Don't act all innocent on me now, Y/N," he scolded, and with the glow in his eyes—as if him calling you by your name isn't enough—you know he was getting annoyed. "You've been calling me that since this morning, even in front of the boys and I've had enough of it. You know how I don't like that word in that context."

You pursed your lip to stop your smile. "What word?" you asked.

"The D word," he grumbled, shooting you a sharp look.

When you said he didn't like it, you were truly serious about it. Tom being unable to say it himself just goes to prove that point.

You tilted your head at him, a teasing smile erupting on your lips as you purred, "Daddy?"

Tom ran a hand over his reddened face as he growled, "Y/N, I swear—"

You burst out in a hearty laugh, Tom's demeanor changing from annoyance to downright confusion.

"Say hi to the camera Tom," you giggled, pointing towards the corner where you can make out the red blinking light. Tom whipped his head around, eyes landing on the small black box, one he didn't notice given that he was a bit busy.

Tom's whole body slumped when he turned back to you, slowly leaning forward until he was able to wrap both his arms around your waist, forehead landing on your shoulder so he could hide his face.

"I hate you," he groaned dejectedly. "I knew it had to be some kind of prank since we've already talked about that word."

"I couldn’t resist. Your reaction is just priceless whenever you hear me call you that word," you teased, Tom pulling away with a pout.

Escaping his grasp gently, you went over to the GoPro, holding it up so both of you were in shot. "Ha, got him! Until next time guys!" You waved with a bright smile, Tom doing the same but with less energy and a roll of his eyes. You turned the camera off and placed it on the counter before walking back to your man.

"But you do know how I liked to be called, right sweetheart?" Tom hummed, eyes darker, voice lowering a few octaves as he wrapped his arms around your waist firmly, moving you back until you were trapped between him and the kitchen island.

"Yes, I do," you breathed out, hands resting on his shoulders as you felt your body tingle from head to toe. Your bottom lip got caught between your teeth when Tom raised a knowing brow at you.

"Yes, what?" he prodded with a husky growl, eyes holding yours with that certain intensity, a familiar glimmer, one that always makes you submit so easily.

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! tell me your thoughts! <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @blossomparkers @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @2018shawn​ @darlingspidey​ @namoreno​ @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl​ @keepingupwiththehollands​ @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @unbelievableholland​ @kittenruby​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @worldoftom​ @quaksonhehe​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @clara-licht​ @dummiesshort​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @sonofabitchstyles​ @perspectiveparker​ @geminiparkers​ @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @fancyxparker @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears ♛ Tom’s YT Shenanigans Taglist: @greatpizzascissorstaco @rosiesimone819 @shawnscxlvins

[astaroth1357]

Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work. 

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise. 

Mammon 

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan 

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan 

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus 

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor 

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged… 

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[archmagesar]

The Burger Knight Conspiracy

Once upon a time, when I was a little kid, my mum was driving me to town. I was in the passenger seat as we drove past Blockbusters (yes, it was that long ago!) and waited at the traffic lights. Across from the traffic lights, I expected to see Burger King but yet, there it stood. Burger Knight. I was incredibly confused and asked my mum about why Burger King had been replaced by Burger Knight. Honestly, it was a tragic downgrade for a King. My mum told me it was probably just for tax reasons and it was probably the same business. Many years later, at the ripe old age of 24 and 25, I started to tell people this story and not a single person believed me. Not even my own family. My own brother thought I was insane. But through hours of painstaking research, I have uncovered the truth of Burger Knight and I am about to reveal, that Burger Knight... did exist.

Now, the first thing to note is that it was difficult to find information on the existence of Burger Knight but there are two key reasons for this. Number one - it existed in 2008, before the rise of social media. Facebook was but a baby and many other social media sites either did not exist, were growing their userbase, or died shortly after (RIP MySpace). See the graph below for evidence (https://ourworldindata.org/app/uploads/2019/09/users-by-social-media-platform-768x542.png).

The second reason it was difficult to find information was because it only existed for a few months, as cited by citizens of locations that had Burger Knights (see Tweet below from @HalifaxIssues on Twitter where a Burger Knight was located, https://twitter.com/HalifaxIssues/status/505115814782337024?s=20&t=nI37zSNxtm6uI2xc9WS24w).

But that does not mean this information does not exist. So, why did Burger Knight pop into existence? Well, as with my experience, it appears that most Burger Knights replaced Burger Kings. A Wiki2 article (https://wiki2.org/en/Meadowhall_(shopping_centre)) on Meadowhall (located in Sheffield, UK) stated that "The centre's Burger King which was located on Market Street got replaced by a small franchise called ‘Burger Knight’ in October 2007 when it reopened after the 2007 floods."" whilst a separate Burger Knight also opened in Aberavon in October 2008. The WalesOnline article (https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/local-news/aberavon-restaurant-puzzler-2223565) regarding this event states that it was a dispute with operations within the North East stores that resulted in Burger King closing, which then allowed PT Quay Limited, a new operator, to open their own franchise: Burger Knight. From this evidence, it seems that my own mother's suggestion of "taxes" as the reason was incorrect. Instead, the evidence suggests a PT Quay Limited saw opportunity when many Burger Kings in the north of England and Wales closed due to issues with the way the stores were run, and proceeded to snap up as many empty Burger Kings as they could. Furthermore, we have an archived page from the old Burger Knight website (https://web.archive.org/web/20080223172741/http://burgerknight.com/) which states that every single one of their stores was formerly a Burger King. How fascinating!

But then, why did Burger Knight disappear? Why was it only present for mere months? Where did he come from? Where did he go? Where did he come from, Burger Knight's home? Well, as it turns out, a separate Wales Online article (https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/local-news/burger-bar-bosses-blame-council-2170883) revealed that PT Quay Limited struggled to make a success of their venture and in fact, in the Aberavon branch at least, failed to pay their bills. I bet you are wondering why, are you not? Well, wonder no more because the truth is, it was awful.

Reviews from the Port Talbot Burger Knight gave the store a 1 star rating on yelp.com (https://www.yelp.com/biz/burger-knight-port-talbot) in 2008 and 2009, showing absolutely no improvement in almost year of service. The first review from November 2008 states that the 10 customers all had complaints and that everything was going wrong. The reviewer assumed it was just a bad day but how wrong they were. The second reviewer in October 2009 states simply that the burgers were disgusting. Additionally, it seems that these negative reviews extend to other branches, including the Meadowhall store where people on a Sheffield forum (https://www.sheffieldforum.co.uk/topic/116173-burger-knight-in-meadowhall, https://www.sheffieldforum.co.uk/topic/105220-burgerknight-stay-away/, https://www.sheffieldforum.co.uk/topic/102882-burger-king-in-sheffield/) stated the following:

So there you have it. The conclusion is that Burger Knight did exist. Burger Knight is real and what's more is that it was a replacement for three Burger King stores that failed to live up to the standard of the previouse Burger King stores.

At least we no longer have to worry about the tragic quality of food and can live with the knowledge that whilst Burger Knight is real, it has left us in peace to enjoy our Burger King. Especially given that the company that once created Burger Knight has since been dissolved (https://www.companieslist.co.uk/06176249-pt-quay-limited#documents).

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 2 - Interest

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, (hinted) OC x reader

Part 1

Word count: 3059

Summary: When the term starts Y/N tries to enjoy everyday life at Hogwarts, finds herself treated by the twins no more as just their brother’s friend or the popular girl and is excited for the Triwizard tournament to come. The announcement of the Yule Ball leaves her with many propositions, when she already thought she had a date set

Warnings: just a few swears

A/N: Strap back folks, cause I let loose. Didn’t want to rush things and was worried about the pacing of the plot. Excited for the next part cause we’re getting there...

September, 1994

This year was going to be a good one. All three of your previous years at Hogwarts, you and your friends never got to enjoy the ordinary. Each and every time, something was brewing, only to blow up right before the school year ended. Evenings spent on studying and essays were followed by trying to save the world. Or Hogwarts, at the very least. But not this time. You were trying to push back the memories of what happened after the Quidditch World Cup final and just be a teenager.

You sat between Hermione and Harry at the welcoming feast. The sorting hat had sang its song, and you curiously watched the sorting ceremony, wondering who’d join your house this year. But the most exciting thing that happened was, without a doubt, the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Even if it meant cancelling the Quidditch Cup that year, you hoped it would prove entertaining enough. You were also looking forward to what having students from two foreign wizarding schools would change in Hogwarts’ life. Only you’d have to wait two months to find out.

The next day was your first day of class, when everyone was starting to get back to their Hogwarts routine after weeks of vacation. The table was busy, some were discussing magical ways of making oneself older a few seats further, some were discussing their new timetables. You studied yours, chewing your toast and listening to what your friends had to say about it. -Today’s not bad… outside all morning, - said Ron, running his finger along Monday’s column -Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins… Herbology with Hufflepuffs, huh. You smiled a little to yourself. You had some friends in that house, two of them – Matthew and Eric – you’ve known since childhood. You even went to muggle elementary school together, before your adventure at Hogwarts began – your parents, even though pure-blood and rather wealthy, were progressive. Eric was a year above you, but Matt was your age, so you’d partner up in herbology. This year it would be slightly different, as over the summer things between the two of you changed a bit.

In the first weeks of the term, things had slowly but surely settled down. You had a new, as usual, questionable DADA teacher. Hermione decided to found S.P.E.W., trying to fight for house-elves’ rights. Although slightly unsure of her methods, you couldn’t help but agree with her message. In your world, it seemed normal, in the mansion owned by your dad’s ancestors it was normal, you never questioned it. But in your parents’ household there never was one, and you were just fine.

 The day was nice, mid-September air still quite warm as you were making your way through the open corridors near Transfiguration. Your thoughts were shifting between schoolwork and leisure. As you were approaching an intersection, you heard quick, heavy steps. Most people were already in the great hall, as lunchtime started not long before.

Fred and George ran out of one of the corridors, ran past you sparing a glance in your direction as you watched with interest, and then they hopped a half wall to hide behind it. What was it this time? After them, emerged Filch, panting heavily.

For half a second you panicked. Would he blame you for whatever they did? Take you for an accomplice?

It wasn’t logical, you were just casually strolling, but you wouldn’t put anything past the old maniac. You tried to keep yourself together when he looked at you expectantly. Quickly, you pointed into one of the corridors. Your chances were 50/50, he could believe you and let himself be fooled, or see right through you, finding it suspicious, that you tried to help him and try to convince the Headmaster to allow him to tie you in his beloved shackles that were always ready in his office.

He ran. You slowly pretended to continue your way, until he was gone, when you approached the wall the twins were hiding behind. -Bli-meey, he definitely added something special to his oatmeal this morning, he never lasts this long -said George to his brother -I expected him to snuff out halfway through! -added Fred -You lads owe me one. – you said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest -That we do, flower. – George said, smiling at you, showing off his dimples -Just say a word when you wanna break some rules – Fred winked at you, then grinned at his twin and the two walked away, as you forgot where you were going before that encounter.

 October, 1994

October was passing quickly in huge amounts of work, as if all the teachers made some kind of pact to rob you of free time. George and Fred seemed more confident in their bantering with you, though.

Before you knew it, there was just a week left until Halloween. You were now in the entrance hall, in front of a sign Ron was reading out loud:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —

-Brilliant! - said Harry. -It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!

Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

The following week, the faculty was getting more and more nervous. The castle was being thoroughly cleaned and everything was supposed to be perfect for the visit. When the time for the feast came, you and your friends arrived in the great hall, which was decorated beautifully overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Before dinner, everyone headed to the Entrance Courtyard to greet the guests. Examining all the young witches and wizards from both schools you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated. But nonetheless, you were looking forward to the following months, when the events of the tournament were explained to you scrupulously.

The next day was Saturday, which would usually mean late breakfast for most, but not today. Students were huddled around the Goblet of Fire, placed in the centre of the entrance hall. You watched curiously to see who could become the Hogwarts champion.

George, Fred and Lee decided to try their luck with aging potion, all three taking a drop of it and clearly confident in their ability to survive win the tournament and split the prize.

When you saw George follow Fred and step over the age line to place his name in the goblet, your eyes narrowed down a bit. You were just about to contemplate, what if, when- Loud sizzling noise and the twins were thrown back, rocking long, white beards. You laughed at the sight, just as everyone else. But you also felt something else deep down, which you didn’t give a thought – relief.

 November, 1994

November was weird for you. Harry was chosen to be Hogwarts’ champion along with Cedric Diggory, but Ron wouldn’t believe he hadn’t thrown his name in, so now your group of friends was split. You thought the whole conflict to be a tad ridiculous, but you found yourself alone with Harry more, who most of the school seemed to hate now.

You and Hermione helped him prepare for the first task of the tournament, once you learned what it would be. Thanks to Moody’s tip, you spent hours practicing the summoning charm. You grasped it faster than Harry, and you tried not to show that it worried you a bit.

The 24th finally arrived. You found a place for yourself in the wooden stands, fellow Gryffindors around you. George and Fred were doing rounds, taking bets. After it seemed they were finished, as the first contestant was about to walk out, they took an empty spot next to you. -Care to make a bet, young lady? – said Fred, leaning down a bit and wiggling his eyebrows at you. -Gambling, huh? – you said, smirking and looking between the boys -Sign me up. -Atta girl. -George said and opened their suitcase once again. You were thankful your cheeks had already been a bit pink from the November chill as you were taking out the money. -3 galleons for Ced, 2 for Harry. – you handed them the coins -just don’t tell him -You pretended to whisper but just loud enough that they could still hear you over the crowd.

At some point after the task had started you got a bit cold and decided to put on the warm scarf you packed in your bag just in case. In the tight crowd, you clumsily fumbled with the bag and the jacket, trying to wrap yourself up. You were about to attempt to hold the bag between your knees to avoid placing it on the floor, when a big hand reached out to you from your right. You looked up to see George silently offering his help. You smiled and said ‘thanks’ just above a whisper. Handing him the bag, his warm hand brushed your cold one for just a moment. You put the scarf on, took your bag back and resumed your spectating position, this time, just a bit more to the right.

December, 1994

At the beginning of the month, the Yule Ball was announced. For you, it meant hordes of boys asking you to be their date. Even ones you haven’t exchanged a word with before. Some of them you politely declined, some of them just got a short ‘no.’

Professor McGonagall took it upon herself to make sure students from the house of Godric Gryffindor knew what they were doing on the dance floor, and not behave like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.

And so, you were all gathered in her classroom, cleared of all desks, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other. When she called Ron over to demonstrate, you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter at your friends awkwardness, when he was asked to grab her waist. Soon, she directed everyone to pair up and practice.

Just like always in these situations, you kind of stepped forward, trying not to be awkward and hide, but at the same time looked around the room a bit nervously – wondering who’d ask you, if you could afford to pick and choose or if anyone would come up to you at all.

Your eyes involuntarily found George Weasley across the room. But you didn’t expect him to also look in your direction. Neither did he, but he tried not to let it show. You weren’t able to predict, what he’d do next. You didn’t know what you wanted in that moment, either, as your thoughts seemed clouded. Whether it was for him to run over to you and sweep you off your feet or just leave you, in your nervous state, so he didn’t have to witness you like that. After all, it was unlike you. Y/N Y/L/N, the talk of the school.

You’d rather not think about what your facial expression looked like, when you saw his eyes on you, his lips slowly curling into a small, shy smile.

You were brought to the world of living by Dean Thomas who walked up with a kind smile, holding out his hand for you and asked you to dance. You liked Dean. He was nice, smart, tall and cute. You said yes and smiled charmingly. When you glanced at the spot where George stood previously, for just half a second, he wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t sure what you expected. Why would he? Besides, it was just George after all, right?

Dancing with Dean, there was some small talk about classes, a few jokes about poor dance skills, and before you knew it, Professor McGonagall thanked you all for your time and you were dismissed.

The group headed to the wide, wooden doors at the back. Dean still beside you, the two of you also making your way out. -You know who you’re going with, then? – he asked you. -To the ball, I mean. -  You didn’t, to be fair. You assumed you’d be going with Matt. -No, not really – you replied, skipping the details. -So.. any chance you’d like to go with me?.. – asked Dean, smiling shyly and looking down at your face, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. You felt someone’s eyes on your back, or maybe you just imagined it. Shit. You didn’t expect that. You looked at the tall boy beside you, trying to hide your shock. In the corner of your eye, you see two tall gingers pass you by in the corridor. You liked Dean, you thought again. He was cute. -No.. sorry, mate… - you muttered, truly apologetic -Hope you find somebody nice, though – you offered him a wide, hopeful smile. -That’s alright. Had to try my luck, though – he said, nodding and grinning to you. He truly seemed to take it well. ��See you around – he gave you a little wave, which you returned, and picked up his pace, losing you in the crowd. So you walked the rest of the way to your common room, in the black-and-red sea, making a little mental plan of the homework you were to do for the rest of the day.

A week later, you made your way to the library in the afternoon. You seized the moment when you were in a relatively good mood and decided it’s a good opportunity to work on some assignments, to maybe wrap them up before the Christmas break.

Walking through the library you were trying to find an optimal spot for your little session. When you picked one, you walked into the aisle and were about to sit down when you spotted George sitting in the opposite row, facing the bookcase, away from you.

He didn’t see you, as he was bent over a book, his hand supporting his head and holding hair out of his face, elbow propped on the desk. He held a quill in his other hand and seemed – focused? Maybe just a little distressed. You caught yourself staring but you couldn’t blame yourself – you don’t see a Weasley twin working in the library often. In fact, you rarely see them separately.

You looked around, stepped back and forth awkwardly for a bit, unsure what to do. You heard him mutter a few curse words to himself and have to hold back a chuckle. You debated just sitting down and just getting to your work, but you take a few careful steps to try and look through his shoulder aand-

Defence Against the Dark Arts. What sometimes seemed to be the only thing you were good at – Merlin had your back. You decided to take your chance, your own schoolwork be damned. You walk up, lean on the desk next to him- -You come here often? – was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it did, before you could think it through. Merlin would surely be proud of the bunch of curses you directed at yourself in your thoughts. What was wrong with you?!

George was looking up at you with wide eyes but amused smile.

-Eh, erm.. you need any help with that? – you tried to save yourself, gesturing at his parchment -I’m pretty good at DADA, ahead of my year, actually… - you continued, looking down, because if you kept looking into those warm, brown eyes, you’d surely be finished. -Uh, yeah, sure – he answered, chuckling slightly -I mean, I could use the help -He straightened up and shifted slightly as you grabbed the back of the chair next to him. -I don’t come here often… -he said under his breath with a cheeky smile.

After you settled into the seat next to him, surprisingly, the both of you relaxed pretty quickly. Even if you suspected it had been the first time the two of you properly talked alone. It was nice, your banter was natural and you actually managed to help him with the assignment, your own ones long forgotten.

-Thanks, Y/N, I really appreciate it. I’d probably rot in here, trying to do it myself, or just give up – he said and rolled his eyes, packing up his things and you were getting up. -No problem, really. I know how often you just need someone to put it in different words and everything starts to click. – you paused for a moment -I’ll see you around, George. – you started to slowly to walk away -Yeah, see you.. -he had packed his things already, and was looking at your back, retreating- -Hey, Y/N? – you stopped and turned back, looking at him curiously, your eyes telling him you were listening. -D’you have a date to the ball? – he asked, not believing his own words. Matt still hasn’t asked you. You suspected why, after you and Eric went a little far with your teasing when you hung out the other day, he got a little salty. But you knew he’d get over it, it wasn’t really serious, and there was still almost two weeks to the ball. -Noo.. -your tone almost saying ‘go on’. -Fancy going with me? – he asked looking into your eyes expectantly, but his voice was soft, and if we weren’t talking about George Weasley here, you’d say shy. You really had set your mind on going with Matt, Georges question was really surprising. You were not aware that was the case for the both of you. You’d never expect that. Yet the idea was interesting. You knew you’d have fun with him. -Yes – you smiled sweetly and bit your lower lip a bit, standing small in front of him He let out a breath, grinned at you and nodded too, looking away -Yeah, cool.. wicked.. – the last part almost inaudible.

Part 3

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #14

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Santa Invasion

“What’s this?”

“Ice cream.”

“Well, I can tell that much just by looking, but...”

“To be precise, it is an ice cream cake.”

A gigantic ladybug was sitting on the low table. Its vivid red and dark brown-like black shades were definitely berries and chocolate. The back was decorated with flowers like marguerite. It was adorable. And huge. It was a hemispherical cake that looked like a basket ball cut in half, the name of a store from Dogenzaka printed on its box. It was 7PM. The last customer had left, I was done with the cleaning and all we had left to do was closing the store. It was still the second week of December, so the mayhem of making provisions for winter presents was a few ways ahead, but the number of clients was increasing little by little.

Just what on earth would this beautiful jeweler come up in such times?

Due to a habit of his from whenever he had something that was hard to say aloud and thus failed to speak up, Mr. Richard Ranashinghe de Vulpian had a serious crease forming just slightly between his brows. It made me feel at ease. This guy didn’t make a face like this when he was burdened with something that was actually difficult to say. He would speak more bland and expressionlessly instead.

“This is a little souvenir.”

“Are you going to a customer’s place after this?”

Richard’s reply was a gentle “no” in English.

He’d been often speaking a mix of Japanese and English lately. When English-speaking customers came by, he would switch completely to English as if for practical assessment, so I was desperate just to keep up with listening to them. I was grateful for having him as my English conversation teacher.

“A certain good-for-nothing who works with finances is currently in Japan, so...”

“Ah, Jeffrey-san, is it? He seemed so busy last time... Sorry, forget what I just said.”

“No need. That is a correct interpretation, so it is nothing to apologize about.”

Despite saying this, Richard’s facial expression did not seem even remotely satisfied as he swiftly took an indigo envelope out of his pocket. It had no seal, so it must have been handed over to him. The content was a pop-out card, and under a paper-craft cake colored with gold leaves and uneven printing, it was written in very tasteful Japanese: “I’m going to hold a party at the hotel, so come over. I’ll be waiting.” The date of the party was today and the place was the room of a luxury hotel in Tokyo. A home party? No, a hotel party.

The title was “Richard’s birthday party”. The plate of the pop-up cake didn’t say “Merry Christmas”. It said “Happy Birthday”.

Christmas Eve on the 24th was this beautiful shopkeeper’s birthday.

As I returned the card to him, a crease once again formed between Richard’s brows as he said with an unsparingly decisive tone, “How very embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t seem so much like it from your face.”

“Because I practiced making it. But this is extremely embarrassing. I think it is not something that warrants going through the trouble of arranging a plane ticket.”

“I wonder if anyone else will be going.”

“It seems Chieko will attend. I received an e-mail yesterday saying, ‘I am going to show up as a surprise so please take care of me’.”

“Is that even a surprise? Well, okay.”

Chieko-san was Richard and Jeffrey’s private tutor in the past and I was acquainted with her to some degree. I wondered if Homura-san, who had married her daughter, was also coming. No, not happening. He was a customer of Etranger, so Richard would probably feel abashed if he did so.

“If it goes on like this, the people lying in wait in that room will just gang up into an assembly to celebrate me.”

“What even is ‘ganging up to celebrate’?”

“They are ganging up on me. I likely will not be able to say anything other than ‘thank you very much’. I need reinforcements. If you would like, could you come with me?”

“Me too? That okay?”

“Of course. The party starts at 8PM probably because it coincides with Etranger’s closing hours. That British safe-like man is not narrow-minded enough to leave you out.”

It was written there that the party would begin at 8PM. We had 30 minutes. There was no spare time to make a pudding. What to do? What should I do?

Richard was apparently unable to let my groaning an “ngh, ngh” while deep in thought go unnoticed. “If it is impossible for you, just say so right away. I know that you are at the final stage of studying for your exams.”

“That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me a bit earlier about this? If I knew, I could’ve made preparations for it... Aah, is that why?”

“It is. I recall saying that you should refrain from being overly distracted.”

“I don’t think a ‘celebration’ is ‘overly distracting’, though.”

“Anything is fine, so please answer. Will you come or not?”

He didn’t have to go as far as asking me something like that.

I bowed in a way that wouldn’t cause any hairs to fall onto the ice cream ladybug. “I shall humbly accompany you.”

“Very well.”

“Sorry, but before that, I gotta go to the toilet for a bit.”

I hastily rushed to Etranger’s restroom and unlocked my phone in a flash. I then tapped on the e-mail app. Of course, the destination could only be one person.

“Help. I’m sorry but I just got informed about the birthday party, so I have no present.”

Jeffrey-san.

The contents of the message were not at all on a level that someone should send to the person they owed their life to, but he would understand.

The reply came in a matter of seconds. As expected, he worked fast.

“Good evening. I have everything, so there’s no problem if you come empty-handed. There will be champagne, canapés, chicken pie and cake, and I plan to have chocolate fondue coming up at the end.”

There was a proud smiley emoji at the end of the text. It seemed this was going to be a big deal.

Richard would probably have work tomorrow, and he wasn’t the type to get wasted or stuff his face with sweets in the middle of the night. It seemed I also wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. It made me feel sorry. This was the same old pattern. This course of eating and seeing good stuff amidst the confusion of the moment made my stomach hurt when I thought better about it.

“Don’t you know anything that Richard wanted?”

The response came after a moment, “My bad, but nothing comes to mind. How about you give him what you want most?”

What I wanted most. I could only think of refill shampoo and new socks. I’d be ashamed of giving things like that to Richard. After all, this was a mixture of birthday and Christmas party—

Just as I was thinking this, a genius inspiration sprouted in my head. It wasn’t the best solution. Not at all. But I felt it could work. This was too obvious, but if only I had the necessary materials for it, I could do it immediately.

Making up my mind, I came out of the restroom, apologized for making Richard wait, and as we rode to the designated address on the jaguar, I had him stop the car in front of a mass retailer for a moment. I told him I wanted to buy refill shampoo for my home. Richard was exasperated, but didn’t have any suspicions in particular.

We arrived at the hotel, got into the elevator, and on the way to the party venue, I made sure to walk a bit behind Richard. Staying out of his sight was essential.

When he opened the door to the suite, sure enough, Jeffrey-san and Chieko-san were waiting inside. Giving off a relaxed atmosphere, a room-service feast even bigger than what I had imagined from the phone call was waiting on the table for the main guest.

“Happy birthday, Richard. Chieko’s here too. Surprised?”

“Of course. Very surprised. Extremely.”

“Hmm, by the looks of it, I guess there was some information leak. Well, that’s okay! Where’s Nakata-kun?”

“What do you mean ‘where’? He’s right here. Seigi... Seigi?”

My eyes locked with Richard’s. I had locked them with Jeffrey-san’s before that. I was grateful that he had done me the favor of not laughing.

I politely shook my head at my boss, who was making a flabbergasted face. “My name is Santa.”

What I had bought at the mass retailer was a handy Santa makeover set. The three-piece set consisted of a hat, a put-on beard and a Santa costume, but I hadn’t had time to change into the costume, so it was folded up in my bag. I intended to borrow the suite’s bathroom to put on the costume. If I at least had my face ready, I could somehow make it work.

Richard was dumbfounded. It was the obvious reaction. But I wanted him to forgive me for this. After all, it was December and today was a party day.

“I’m Santa Claus! I came from the North Pole. Please take care of me for today!” After introducing myself, I thought that maybe this wasn’t an exemplary self-introduction for Santa, but it was already too late.

Jeffrey-san, who completely livened up the mood whenever he got excited, went along with the joke, saying, “Wah, Santa-san, thank you for coming from such a faraway place!”

I was grateful for that one. And that was how I got away with playing the role of a worldwide mascot-like old man character from the Arctic for the day. The ice cream cake brought by the star of the party was a success, and we had a toast with both champagne and royal milk tea. Chieko-san was wearing a kimono, the remade peridot brooch on her chest.

   It had already been more than half a year since then, but to my body, it felt like even longer ago.

My location had moved from Japan to Sri Lanka, as one would expect, and I was busy fully enjoying a spring in which white temple flowers were blooming in Kandy, my new home. But for some reason, Santa was here. A beautiful blond, blue-eyed man slipped in and out of sight, but his outward appearance was that of Santa Claus. It was the kind of Santa costume that you could buy at the costume section of any mass retailer. One of the sad things about unmatched beauty was the fact nobody could actually claim that his natural beauty was ruined by the look. The brilliance of his blue eyes, which looked like they could suck you in, was the same as ever.

“I am Santa Claus. I came from the North Pole.”

“But now’s a hot time of the year.”

“Santa Claus is a symbol of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. I do not think it is particularly strange.”

“T-That might be true. Well, then... what’re you doing?”

“Santa does what Santa does. The tradition of Santa Claus, much like the language of jewels, has a wide variety of legends to it depending on the region, but either way, the role of a saint who grants blessings to little children, women and those in need is a guise commonly demanded in society. And for you, here it is.” Saying this, “Santa” offered me a plastic, loose stone display case that I was all too familiar with. There was a red stone stuck between the cushion and transparent lid. “Can you identify this gemstone?”

“Tourmaline, I guess. Red tourmaline.”

“Good for you. Did you know that it has one more name?”

“Rubellite.”

“Perfect. Large, pinkish-red tourmalines are called by that name, and it is a stone of which huge carved crystals have been loved as works of art, such as the amulet of Empress Dowager Cixi and the Romanov royal treasure, the ‘Strawberry Pendant’.”

As I peeked at the stone inside the case, humming that it was pretty, the beautiful jeweler cleared his throat and started over.

“Just as people’s feelings dwell within beautiful stones, this one is filled with the feeling of celebrating the start of your new life, from your family back in Japan, your friends and your superior at work, with whom you have a relationship other than the aforementioned and that neither of us knows how to define. Santa is wholly thankful for being in the position to bestow you with such a gift. I forgot to say it, but happy birthday. Nakata Seigi-san. I sincerely pray, all the way from my home in the Arctic, that this year will be a fruitful one for you.”

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for always, Richa...”

“Santa. I am a passing Santa.”

“Then let’s go with that. By the way, if you’re Santa, where are the reindeers?”

When asked this, the man in disguise answered with a cool gaze that the reindeers were using stealth technology nowadays so that they wouldn’t be found by radars, hence they couldn’t be seen. He had it down to the details.

“It’s been about ten years since the last time Santa-san came around. I’ll take good care of this. Santa-san, you take care of your body too. I’ll ask my boss next time I see him about the person who gave you this stone.”

“You should. Well, then.” With a bow, Santa left for a car parked in the courtyard. I probably wasn’t supposed to see him off. I’d feel bad for the stealth reindeers.

The red stone stayed in my hand.

I had told a white lie. It hadn’t been ten years since Santa had last showed up. This was the first time ever since I was born. In my home, there was always someone playing the role of “Santa”, such as Hiromi, Grandma and Nakata-san, so they never tried to tell me nice lies. Nakata-san probably just followed Hiromi’s way of doing things, though. The fact I thought up something like that last December, when Jeffrey asked me what I “wanted most”, might not have been unrelated to this. At any rate, to me, not even once was there any supernatural existence who would leave toys by my bedside if I were a good kid. Until this day.

After a while of standing by the garden, where it was always summer, and listening closely to the cries of birds with my eyes closed, I unlocked my phone. The Wi-Fi range of the house seemed good, and so I could send e-mails immediately. The contents were simple. The destination was my boss, Richard.

“Santa came to my place. But he left so quick that I couldn’t make him tea.”

The reply soon came: “Are you half-asleep?”

If he really thought that I was half-asleep, then maybe I should delay the reply for a few more minutes, I thought, but I didn’t write anything further. The house’s cleaning was half-assed and I had to check the security. I also wanted to know as many of my neighbors as could.

Together with the feeling that I had suddenly been given something I had forgotten, and that I didn’t even know I had forgotten, I put rubellite in the jewelry safe and stepped out into the Sri Lankan provincial city. I had nothing to fear and no hesitation. The ill feeling that I’d be living here alone had disappeared. After all, Santa had come by. Far from elementary school, I was now an adult who had already graduated from university, and it currently wasn’t December but May, where the only anniversary I could think of was my own birthday, yet Santa had come by. Such an impossible thing had happened.

So I could do my best, I thought.

And so, I could be getting ahead of myself, but I began thinking about my plans for this December. Would there be a second chance for Santa to appear? If not, I wanted to make one. I decided to fuss over the outfit a little more and prepare proper gifts this time. Then I’d tell him stories about jewels and try to make him laugh a lot. That, too, was Santa’s duty.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 23

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

@alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 22

Next Chapter: Chapter 24

Alastair was exhausted. By the time they made it back, it was seven in the evening even if they’d been in the land in between for much shorter. He was cold, still soaking wet, and he didn’t want to know what had been in the water that had flooded the dungeon. He imagined he and Cordelia both smelt terrible, but completely covered in it, Alastair could not smell it himself. It was frustrating, because Thomas and Lucie did not indicate anything about their scent, but Alastair suspected they did smell whatever had been in that water and were just too polite to mention it. Thomas didn’t touch him and kept a little more distance than he usually did.

All the way back to the Herondale’s manor, Cordelia and Alastair were arguing about who could use the bathroom first, until Lucie pointed out there was a second bathroom connected to the master bedroom.

‘Why do you both want to go second anyway?’ Thomas asked. ‘I’d imagine you’d argue about who gets to go first.’

‘Because I am cold and dirty and want to use the bathroom for at least an hour, and if I go first, Cordelia will start yelling at me to hurry up after about ten minutes,’ Alastair said.

Thomas tilted his head. ‘And if she goes first?’

‘Then I will yell at her to get out after ten minutes,’ Alastair said. ‘And since I am freezing I’d be completely justified.’

‘We both have very excessive bathroom rituals,’ Cordelia added. ‘Especially when we’re this dirty. But staying in there for an hour would be rude if someone else also needs to use the bathroom. So whoever goes second can yell and be completely justified, and then has all the time they need to get warm and clean. It’s a good thing there are two bathrooms and we can both go take a shower.’ .’

Two separate bathrooms sounded good. He remembered his childhood home had had that too, before his father had been forced to sell the family home when Alastair was around five. Jem had bought it back a couple of years ago, but Alastair found it difficult to imagine why one person needed a house that big. Although he guessed Jem had grown up there too and had lost his parents at a young age, so perhaps there were sentimental reasons.

Both the Herondales and the Lightwoods were at the manor. Will and Tessa were reading as usual, Sophie was tidying something up in the kitchen and Gideon was pacing back and forth until he noticed the four of them.

‘Finally, you’re back,’ Gideon said, concern written all over his face. ‘What happened?’

‘We got the skin,’ Cordelia said. ‘Grace is free. But the dungeon the skin was hidden in was completely flooded, so if you don’t mind I want to use the bathroom. Alastair and I both do, and Lucie mentioned there was a second bathroom.’

In the end Cordelia took the bathroom connected to Will and Tessa’s bedroom while Alastair took the one upstairs, glad to finally have some peace. He was exhausted as well as cold and dirty. There was a huge bathtub in there and Alastair turned on the water while getting in the shower to first rinse off the worst of the filth and to get warm again. He got out of the shower when he felt like he was semi clean and the bath tub was nearly full. Even if he’d been in the shower for some time and felt a lot cleaner than before, he was still so cold. He got in the bathtub. There was even a bubble bath function, exactly how rich was Lucie’s grandmother?

Perhaps he should ask Thomas to join him here sometime. He imagined that would be nice. Alastair allowed himself to relax. Although he was exhausted, he did feel a lot better than yesterday. At least with Grace freed, he felt like he’d accomplished something. Like he wasn’t useless and deserved to be liked again. That was something he often struggled with.

He sought out memories, but unlike other days he didn’t seek out the bad ones. Right now he wasn’t seeking to make sense of the past, nor was he interested in hurting himself. Instead, he let himself settle comfortably into a memory of Thomas confessing his feelings to him, of their first kiss. It wasn’t all bad, the memories.

When he was younger, they didn’t have a lot of movies at home, so sometimes they would rewatch movies Cordelia had seen at Lucie’s place instead. His mother had been a little concerned about that, usually children being too quiet was bad news but them sitting on the couch for over an hour in the same position was just weird.

Lucie had a tendency to talk through movies, so Alastair had come to associate certain scenes in the Little Mermaid or Aladdin with her commentary. Alastair had always loved Aladdin as a child. Although now he was far more critical of the strange way in which the movie mixed together Persian, Arabic and Indian culture and architecture, at the time Aladdin had been one of the few movies with a main character who looked like him.

He returned to reality after a while, finally warm again and decided to stay in bath for a little longer. Bubble baths really were nice, Alastair guessed if he had ever had enough money for one he’d buy a bubble bath. In the current economical climate he doubted he’d even be able to buy a home, but he could dream.

***

Thomas was busy in the kitchen with his mother. He liked to cook, and was quite good at it. From a young age he’d wanted to go into the kitchen and look at what his mother was doing there, or help out. Barbara was a decent cook but didn’t love it like he and his mother did, and Eugenia had been banned from using the kitchen, but Thomas had picked up cooking quite easily. Now, they were making a vegan shepherd’s pie, Thomas was cutting the onion, trying to cut the pieces as tiny as possible. Compared to his mother, he was less sensitive to onion and was therefore always giving that task while cooking together.

‘Were you surprised?’ he asked out of a sudden. ‘When you and dad found out I like boys?’

His mother threw away the potato peels. ‘Not really. I remember when you were fourteen and would come home from school. You could only talk about this older boy you’d met, about how beautiful his dark hair and eyes were.’

Thomas realized his mother had a point, that wasn’t exactly subtle. And he couldn’t talk about his feelings for Alastair with his friends, so instead he’d talked about him at home. ‘That boy was Alastair,’ he said.

‘Really?’ his mother asked. ‘Now that you mention it, that was his name, but we never met him.’

‘I think dad suggested I invite him over for dinner, but Alastair barely acknowledged me back then and I didn’t dare. Nor do he think he would have accepted.’

‘And while you were singing his praises, James and Matthew could only complain about him. So we figured there had to be a reason why you thought he was perfect when your friends thought he was awful. We weren’t sure it was a crush, or if there was some other reason, we figured it was best to let you figure that out on your own.’

Thomas hadn’t realized it was so obvious, but looking back it was a miracle anyone had missed it.

‘Thanks for that. I don’t think I was ready to talk about it at that age, even if I wasn’t exactly subtle. We do have a bit of a history. While I was in love with him, he was awful to us. I think I idealized him then, because he was beautiful and smart and appeared so confident, and I downplayed his rudeness. But he isn’t like that anymore, he grew up and changed and he apologized for his behavior at school.’

‘People change,’ his mother said. ‘I believe people deserve a second chance. Especially when someone was so young when they made mistakes.’

‘Exactly. And now I feel like I’m getting to know the real him. You and dad, you do like him right?’

‘Of course we do,’ Sophie said. ‘He’s been nothing but polite, although a bit blunt. Your father sees himself in Alastair, he thinks Alastair struggles with connecting to people because of his past, and wants to help.’

‘Alastair thinks you only like him for his ability and his willingness to save me,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not sure why he thinks that, it seemed unlikely and he couldn’t really explain his line of thinking either.’

Sophie sat down at the kitchen table, cutting the carrots. ‘When you’ve been treated badly in the past, it can become difficult to accept kindness. At some point, you start to expect people aren’t sincere, they can’t be trusted, because that’s all they’ve known.

It was difficult for me, at first, to trust your father’s kindness because I knew people were not always genuine, because I’d been hurt before and I was scared it would happen again. Because I thought, with this scar, who could believe I’m beautiful?’

Before meeting his father, his mother had been in a relationship with a man who’d cut open her face when she’d broken up with him. He’d claimed that if he couldn’t have her, he’d make sure no one else would want her. The cut had left a scar across her cheek and her ex had eventually gone to prison.

Thomas didn’t know the details, but suspected her ex had been abusive before the break up already. People didn’t always realize how dangerous leaving could be for an abuse victim. His mother’s ex had turned to carving up her face with a knife. Benedict Lightwood had decided to sacrifice his wife when he realized she was leaving. He had to admire Alastair for being brave enough to leave his ex. Even if someone wasn’t physically violent it couldn’t be easy.

‘Do you think he distrusts your and dad’s kindness because of that?’ Thomas asked.

‘I think that’s likely,’ Sophie said. ‘I think he blames himself for what happened to him, and might not believe it’s possible for other people to genuinely care for him. Perhaps he thinks people have treated him badly because he’s a bad person, or perhaps he thinks that he’s too broken to be loved. Perhaps to him it is so unlikely that we care for him that it makes more sense that we are kind because we want something from him.’

Thomas figured it was something like that. But what did to mean for Alastair’s feelings for him? Did Alastair think he too would abandon him if things became too difficult? Or did he think Thomas would only stay with him as long as he could satisfy his needs, with no care for his own? Did he feel guilty about falling into that flashback last night when Thomas had touched him, like he was not good enough? Thomas wanted to make him understand that it wasn’t true, that he loved Alastair and wouldn’t abandon him, but he wasn’t sure how.

‘How do I convince him that’s not true?’ Thomas asked.

‘The only thing we can do is let him know we care,’ his mother said. ‘And be patient with him. Does he communicate his feelings to you?’

‘He tends to be honest and rather blunt with his feelings,’ Thomas said. ‘I like that about him.’

When Alastair wanted to be honest, he wasn’t one to dance around the message or his feelings. He was very straightforward and blunt in what he wanted to say, not much like what was common in Britain, to hide behind politeness. Thomas found it refreshing, to know that when Alastair said something nice he meant every word of it.

‘So make sure you communicate with him as well,’ his mother said. ‘I know you struggle with verbalizing your emotions, but you have to let him know how you feel or he might end up believing you don’t really care for him.’

Thomas nodded. His mother was right, he did struggle with telling people how he felt. Most of the time, it was because he was scared his feelings would inconvenience other people. He was determined not to do that to Alastair though, he knew his feelings for him weren’t inconvenient and they weren’t shameful. Nevertheless sometimes it was hard just to get the words past his lips. Perhaps that was why he’d waited so long to come out when he’d wanted to for some time. Ultimately, kissing Alastair when they would see was easier than telling them, but he knew he could not communicate with Alastair the same way, he’d have to tell him how he felt as well as show it.

‘Was it difficult for you, entering a new relationship after the last one had ended so badly?’ Thomas asked.

‘It took a while until I was ready,’ his mother said. ‘At first, I thought, who would want me now that I have this scar? I think Alastair might feel the same way, even if his scars aren’t literal like mine is. It took some time before I started believing Gideon when he said I was beautiful. That is a process, and all you can do is support him and be gentle with him while he works through that.’

‘Last night, something I did triggered a flashback,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I thought he was okay with it, I think he thought so too. Or maybe he was scared to refuse because of how his ex used to treat him. Something I did reminded him of his ex and he panicked.’

‘Did you communicate what you both wanted?’ his mother asked.

Thomas had to think. He’d asked, of course, and Alastair had said yes. But perhaps what they needed was a more in depth discussion of what they both liked and what Alastair was comfortable with.

‘Yes. He likes it when I ask for consent before kissing or touching him. I think he didn’t see it coming. That it would trigger a flashback, I mean. But I don’t want to hurt him, and I think maybe he feels like he isn’t a good partner if he’s not ready to have sex? I’m not sure exactly, but I think his ex was very demanding when it came to sex.’

‘It’s best to ask him,’ Sophie said. ‘You said he usually honest and blunt with his feelings, so I think if you ask him how he feels about sex, he’ll tell you. Those aren’t always easy conversations, but it’s the best way to make sure you don’t accidently hurt him. And I think when you accidently trigger something, it’s best to apologize and move on when he does. Lingering on it might make him feel worse.’

They finished the shepherd’s pie and put it in the oven. Thomas always struggled with preheating the oven at the right time, he didn’t want to leave it on for a long time while he wasn’t ready to put anything in it, but it was also annoying when everything was finished but he had to wait for the oven to get warm. It was another half an hour until it was done, which would give Alastair and Cordelia plenty of time to finish bathing. Thomas hadn’t wanted to say anything but they did smell awful after coming out of that dungeon soaking wet, and he could tell they were both chilled to the bone. He hoped neither of them would get sick.

Thomas sat down on the couch with his father and Lucie. ‘I’d been waiting for you,’ Lucie said. ‘I thought it would be better with you here.’

Gideon frowned. ‘What’s going on?’

‘This might be difficult to process,’ Lucie said. ‘While I was waiting in the land in between, I saw a ghost. Not like I usually see ghosts, she was only half there, transparent like in the movies. Until I asked her to show herself so Thomas could see her too. When I was back in our world, I could do the same thing. According to Grace, I stole a soul back from the thief of souls.’

‘You stole a soul?’ Gideon asked. ‘I’m not sure I’m following. Is she a ghost now?’

‘She’s right here,’ Lucie said. ‘A ghost, yes, but no longer trapped. She’s your mother.’

‘My… mother?’ His father seemed in shock, his voice a whisper. ‘You mean to say she’s here?’

‘She’s been trapped for a long time until I found here. She didn’t realize how much time had passed until we told her and she found out Thomas was your son. She wants to talk to you if that’s alright with you.’

Thomas found it difficult to imagine what his father must be feeling. Would he be happy for a chance to see his mother, or would it only tear open old wounds? He knew Lucie had done the right thing to set her free, and hoped she could find peace and way to move on from this world, but he wasn’t sure it was kind to his father. Not telling him was infinitely worse though.

‘Yes, of course. How does this work? Do you tell me what she’s saying?’

‘Actually, I can make her visible,’ Lucie said. ‘Barbara, show yourself.’

Barbara Lightwood appeared once more, standing in the middle of the living room. She looked a bit disoriented, glancing around before settling her gaze on his father.

‘Gideon. It has been so long,’ she said. ‘Last I remember you were still so small. I’m so sorry for leaving you.’

‘That wasn’t your fault,’ his father said, tears in his eyes.

Thomas wondered if he should leave, if this was a private conversation, but Lucie couldn’t leave since she had made Barbara visible. Perhaps he should stick around for emotional support?

His father had a long conversation with Barbara, telling him about his life, about Thomas’ sisters. Barbara started crying too when she realized Thomas’ oldest sister was named after her.

Thomas imagined Barbara had to be devastated to learn what Tatiana was up to and hoped she could find peace with it. He didn’t think Tatiana could be persuaded to stop by a mother she didn’t even remember. Gideon was the only one of her children who remembered his mother at all, although uncle Gabriel claimed to have a few very vague memories even if he could not recall her face and had no concept of who she had been.

Alastair entered the living room, his hair still damp but otherwise dry, wearing a clean dark green button up shirt with black jeans. Thomas went to him, he didn’t think they’d explained to Alastair what had happened or who Barbara was.

‘That’s the soul Lucie took back, isn’t it?’ Alastair asked.

‘Yes. Her name is Barbara, and she is my grandmother.’

‘Benedict’s wife? The one he sacrificed?’

‘Exactly. Somehow Lucie saw her and when she made her visible, she pulled her through to the world she was in, and now she’s here.’

Alastair looked concerned. ‘Do you think the thief of souls will try to take her back?’

‘I’m not sure. But if she moves on, we think she should be safe. How are you?’

‘Tired, but feeling a bit better. The bubble bath was nice, you should try it sometime.’

Thomas wondered if Alastair meant he should try it because it was nice or he wanted them to use the bubble bath together. He didn’t dare ask for clarification. He’d be far too embarrassed if it turned out Alastair had no desire to take a bath together. Just after he’d told himself he’d have a conversation with Alastair about sex and what he wanted.

‘Maybe I will,’ Thomas said, not sure what he meant he’d do. He wasn’t opposed to taking a bubble bath with Alastair, but wasn’t sure Alastair was ready for something so intimate. He’d ask later, he told himself. ‘You smell nice.’

All traces of whatever dirt he’d been in were gone. Instead, he smelt sharp and minty, but also sweet.

‘Just my shampoo. And I guess also the scrub, bath oil and body cream, but they all have the same scent.’

‘I like it,’ Thomas said. ‘Like eucalyptus, maybe?’

‘That’s in the products I use, yes,’ Alastair said. ‘Are you alright?’

Thomas guessed Alastair had read some worry on his face. ‘Well, I never knew my grandmother so it’s mostly confusing. I think it’s hard for my father though. He lost his mother when he was five, it’s been a very long time and seeing her again has to be painful.’

‘I can’t even imagine what that’s like,’ Alastair said. ‘But I’m happy for him that he gets the chance to talk to her even if it’s only once. He deserves that.’

‘They really do care for you, you know,’ Thomas said, returning to the kitchen with Alastair in tow to check on their shepherd pie.

‘Your parents?’ Alastair asked.

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know,’ Alastair said, head bowed down, avoiding eye contact.

‘I just asked my mother, she likes you and you remind my dad of him when he was younger. They both care. I’m not sure why you have this idea that they don’t, but I thought you should know.’

‘I don’t know how to explain,’ Alastair said, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Thomas guessed eye contact might be difficult for him. Lucie was the opposite, staring into people’s eyes so much it became uncomfortable. She was a writer, after all, and how else was she to know Thomas’ hazel eyes had both hints of green and gold in there?

‘My mother thinks it’s because you were hurt so badly you find it difficult to believe people could love you. If you want, you could talk to her about it. I may not know what it’s like, but she does. Her ex hurt her too.’

‘Not everyone is as easy to love as you are, Tom,’ Alastair said with a sigh. ‘Now that you’ve seen the extent of my scars, how long until you realize that I’m just not worth the pain?’

His mother was right, Alastair did believe he could not be loved. He believed Thomas would grow tired of him? That it was painful and difficult to be with someone like him and it wasn’t worth it? How could Thomas make him see that he was wrong, that he was loved and that he deserved that?

‘You are worth it,’ Thomas said, running a finger through Alastair’s soft dark hair. ‘Having a mental illness doesn’t make you unworthy of love, it doesn’t make you too difficult.’

‘You realize that this might never go away, right?’ Alastair said finally looking up. Thomas realized with a shock there were tears in his eyes. ‘I still have hope for EMDR, but PTSD is a very difficult disorder to treat. Perhaps it will get better over time, but it might not.’

Thomas imagined that was a difficult idea for Alastair to cope with, knowing that he might never get better. He’d read a lot on PTSD in the past week, and it was true that it was difficult to treat, especially when caused by prolonged childhood abuse. But according to his admittedly limited internet research, even then people could learn to cope better, find better support. One metaphor he’d found interesting was how the symptoms were like waves of the ocean, Alastair might not be able to stop them but he could learn to surf.

‘And if it doesn’t go away, I’ll still want to be with you,’ Thomas said. ‘I’d still do the best I could to support you. My feelings for you are not conditional on you getting better, although I certainly hope you do. For your sake.’

‘It’s easy to say that now,’ Alastair said softly, once more refusing to look him in the eye.

‘I’ll prove it to you then,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t care how long it takes until you believe me, but I’ll keep proving I care about you.’

‘Just how do I intend to do that?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, I’m still figuring that out but it would involve lots of cuddling. And my mother thinks it’s important that I tell you how I really feel, so I’m going to do that too.’

Alastair’s expression changed, showing a small smile someone else might have missed. ‘I’d like that. When will you be next available for cuddling?’

‘Give me a moment, I need to check on the shepherd’s pie. You need to eat and I couldn’t feed you burnt food.’

Thomas checked the oven, everything looked fine and needed a little more time in the oven. He set the timer and returned his attention to Alastair.

‘I am available right now if you want. Another ten minutes until we can eat.’

[puckbuddies]

24 hours

Andre Burakovsky x reader

2282 words

Warnings: one swear word I think

This was based on the prompt ‘A love story that begins and ends in 24 hours’

Sitting at a bar at half past eleven at night was not how you imagined your second to last day in Denver to go. The past day had been so filled with saying goodbye to your friends and family that you felt completely drained as you sat on a slightly sticky bar stool. Leaving was harder that you thought it would be. All your life, you’d dreamed of moving somewhere far away and starting your own life but now that it was actually happening, you were scared. Scared to be alone. Scared that it wouldn’t be as good as you’d imagined it to be.

Sitting on the bar before you was your second drink of the night. You regretted ordering it already, suddenly realizing getting drunk would not be a good idea. Your apartment was already packed so that wasn’t a problem, but you didn’t want to spend your last day nursing a hangover. Even if you would probably just spend it crying in your bedroom which wasn’t all that much better.

You watched the clock intensely as the last seconds of this Thursday were ticking by, cheering sarcastically as the clock hit midnight. You were actually starting to pity yourself now and though it best to just head home when a stranger took a seat on the stool next to you. quickly looking over, you gave him a closemouthed smile while you continued packing your stuff. What you didn’t expect, was the stranger to start talking to you. you were so stuck in your head that you almost missed the hey he directed at you.

Looking up at him again, you saw that he was now full on smiling at you. while you were very confused as to why this man was paying you any attention, you still answered him, giving him a hi of your own. Yours was said in a confused tone which he didn’t seem to pick up on.

“I’m Andre.” was all he said. You waited for a moment, expecting something else to follow but nothing came.

“I’m Y/n, can I help you with something?” You weren’t interested in being picked up tonight so you decided that if that was what he wanted, you had to be clear.

“I saw you sitting here by yourself and I wanted to keep you company. You seemed kind of sad.”

You were surprised and a little embarrassed that it was so easy to pick up on your mood. The whole bar had probably been staring at the weird lonely girl by the bar and your cheeks reddened at the thought.

“No not in that way!” Andre let out when he saw your reaction. “It wasn’t that obvious, I was just already looking at you so I saw.” Your cheeks now lit up for a different reason. Even if you weren’t planning on going home with him -which you realized was his plan-, Andre was still very attractive and you were flattered.

Putting you coat and wallet back on the bar, you turned to him fully.

“Look Andre, you’re very attractive but I’m not planning on going home with you so you can just go back to your friends.”

You were frustrated. Your day had been shit and you didn’t want to deal with this right now, wanting nothing more that to just forget about everything and be sad by yourself.

“We can just talk.”

He was not giving up at all.

Staring at him with hard eyes did nothing to stop him from smirking at you so you just decided to go with it. You didn’t have anything else to do after all. Sighing heavily made his smile even wider somehow.

“So what are you doing here by yourself at midnight on a Thursday?”

“I’m celebrating my last day in Denver before I move to the other side of the world. And by celebrating I mean hating my existence.”

You rolled your empty wineglass in between your hands while you waited for Andre to process what you had just said. You shouldn’t spill your problems to a complete stranger at a bar, but he asked for it and you needed to vent.

“It’s your last day?” His head was slightly tilted to the side in a questioning manner and he vaguely looked like a puppy. Feeling like an answer wasn’t necessary, you just nodded your head.

“Well what are you doing in a bar then? Surely there are better ways to spend your evening.”

“Like what?” You couldn’t deny that his enthusiasm was making you feel better. He looked like a person that found everything excited and to be honest, you desperately needed that right now.

“I don’t know, walk around the city. Go exploring or something. Honestly anything would be better than sitting here.” At this point Andre was pretty much shouting. A few people had already turned around to look at you two but you didn’t really care. All your attention was on the man in front of you who was really tall you just noticed as he stood up.

“Come on.”

It was accompanied by Andre holding his hands out for you to take. You shouldn’t have taken them but you did figuring that if you got murdered, at least you didn’t need to get on a plane for eleven hours.

Before you could leave, Andre had to get his coat from his original table. you stood back, not wanting to intrude in the group. But even standing at the exit, you could hear him calming down the shouts of encouragement his friends were giving him. You didn’t really care that they thought you were going home with them as you would likely never see them again.

Andre walked up to you with somewhat of a blush on his cheeks but it didn’t stop him from grabbing your hand after he opened the door for you.

At first it was kind of awkward. You were just walking in silence while Andre was googling the best places to visit in Denver. You didn’t want to pay too much attention to the fact that he was still holding your hand, so you just ignored it.

“Ooh, we could go to the botanic gardens. I’ve never been but it seems cool.”

You started laughing so hard you had to stop walking and by the confused look on Andre’s face, he had no idea what was happening.

“Andre, it’s quite literally the middle of the night, how would we ever get in?”

“Ow oops I didn’t think about that.”

He was adorable. You could tell he really wanted to make tonight fun for you even if you were just a stranger and you really appreciated it. If it wasn’t for Andre you would be crying into your bag of chips right now.

“Maybe you should lead the tour, you’ve probably lived here longer than I have.” He continued.

You thought about it. What to do in Denver at one am. The answer was nothing.

“To be honest, I don’t think anything is open right now. Maybe we should go home.”

Andre turned to you in protest. “No we can’t do that, I promised you we’d go exploring.”

After a while of arguing back and forth, you both came to the agreement to just walk around the city. In the whole time you lived in Denver, you’d never really walked at night, having never felt safe to do so. With Andre however, you didn’t need to worry about someone kidnapping you. He might’ve had the personality of a golden retriever, but he was tall enough to tower over the average person.

During your exploration, you talked. He told you about hockey and his life back home in Sweden after you mentioned his accent. You talked about your new job in London and your worries surrounding the topic. He was a good listener, only butting in when he felt like he needed to reassure you about something.

You would’ve liked to have met him sooner. Everything about Andre made you feel good. Looking back, it had been really reckless to just leave with a stranger, but it had turned out so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. You couldn’t help but think about how things would be if it wasn’t the last time you’d ever see him.

It felt like you had only just left the bar when the sun started coming up. You didn’t feel tired. On the contrary, you felt more energized than you had all week. Something in Andre brought out the best in you.

When the sun was all the way up and the city became more alive, you started looking for a place to eat. You chose a small brunch place at the edge of the city that Andre swore had the best French toast.

Finally sitting down on the terrace, you realized just how long you had been walking. Your feet were absolutely killing you.

“So when’s your flight?”

“I need to be at the airport at two pm, but my stuff is still at my apartment.”

“That means we have about four more hours to fill.”

The clock above the door did indeed show eight am. You’d been walking since one. You still couldn’t really wrap your head around how crazy the past day had been. You’d gone from existential crisis, to being as happy as you could remember. And it was not only your day that had changed, but also your expectations of the future.

While you were still scared about how London was going to treat you, Andre had done everything he could to make you feel more at ease about the situation. He told you about moving to Denver from DC and how scared he had been only for it to turn into the best year of his career. It made you realize that while you were happy here, you wanted more of a challenge and yes, that is scary, but you also really needed it.

“So I know we agreed to just walk around, but I have one place I would like to go to.”

You had been nervous to bring it up before but you weren’t now. The place you meant was a small park in the east of the city. It was relatively close to your apartment and you used to go there the time you fostered a dog. There were never any people in the park and it was slightly overgrown, but it reminded you of peace.

Andre agreed to go to the park you wanted and after having paid for your meal -which he did when you were in the bathroom, otherwise you would have never agreed- you were on your way again, walking slower this time as the night had really done a number on your legs.

As it was now a normal hour to be out in the city, you decided to go see at least one tourist attraction while you could, this being the zoo. You both acted like total tourists while you were there, taking pictures with all of the animals and even buying matching stingray plushies.

By the time you reached your park, you were completely exhausted. The constant walking and the all-nighter left you feeling like you would sleep through your entire flight.

You could see Andre was not impressed by your choice but he didn’t say anything. Most likely to not upset you. To be fair to him, it looked terrible. The grass hadn’t been mowed for maybe a month and the benches were most definitely not clean.

When you told him why you wanted to visit the place one last time, you could see in his eyes he understood. And while it was your last time being in this park, Andre insisted it would be you who pushed him on the swings.

Realistically, you knew you wouldn’t see him again. Tomorrow you would be on the other side of the world and it would be nearly impossible to stay in contact with time zones working against you. so you decided to not overthink for once and just do what you wanted to do.

With Andre still sitting on the swing, it was a lot easier to press your lips against his. He gripped your hips immediately, almost as if he was waiting for this moment to come. It was him who pulled away first and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his doped grin. The kind that made you want to burst out in laughter.

“Thank you Andre. You didn’t have to do this but you did and I’m so grateful. Today was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”

He looked down. For the first time, you saw his usually happy expression change into one of pain. His response came after a minute of silence.

“You don’t have to thank me. For some reason I felt like we were just meant to meet in that bar.”

And it was true. You felt like that as well.

You walked back to your apartment in comfortable silence, his hand in yours like it had been when you started this adventure. It was bittersweet, meeting someone you connected with so well only to have them being taken away from you so soon but you were so so glad you had met Andre. He changed your perspective on a lot of things.

An hour later, you were on a plane with the only thing reminding you of him the pictures on your phone, the plushie in your bag, the sound of his voice still ringing in your ears, and the feeling on your lips.

[itshesdimples]

-Hello to anyone reading. This is my first time writing something and putting it out for the world to see. That being said, I would love any constructive criticism you have to give me. Thank you for any support you may give me, I cant thank you enough xoxo ~H - 

I remember the day as if it were yesterday; the day you crossed the unimaginable line. 

I thought we had everything, I thought I was your everything. 

2 MONTHS AGO

"Hey sunshine, just calling to let you know I wont be able to make it home this time. I'm sorry, the label has me doing something that I'm not sure is a good idea but they say it will help me in the long run." He sighs at the end, I imagine him palming his forehead.

"Look, I need you to listen to me when I tell you that you are everything to me, you make me want to become the best version of myself. During the months we have been together I have seen the best and worst side of you and I'm not running, promise. I want you to be mine forever, do you hear me? Just remember that." Harry expelled.

You were a little worried, seeing as you two had been together for a little over nine months and it was extremely rewarding. The time apart has always been different to the other relationships she had been in the past but with Harry it seemed like more than she had ever received from the previous men. 

As a surgical intern you work countless hours and never really get more than a few hours to yourself, so when you met Harry you really never saw it going anywhere. You were just too happy for your own good, openly expressing your life to perfect strangers and expecting them all to be accepting of who you are.

* 9 MONTHS AGO* 

The hospital you worked at allotted 80 hours a work week and as hopeful as you may be feeling, there is a little voice in the back of your head telling you not to go bar hopping. "Just one drink and then water." you emphasize to your good friend Mike, the bartender. 

"Vodka soda coming right up, Dr. Demanding." He chuckles. You turn around in the chair and stare at all the fellow drunks, looking for your intern comrades who should be here by now. 

Although you dont find your friends, you spot a very handsome, familiar face coming toward you. Admiring the face across from you, you decide to take the first step following by the downing of your vodka soda. " You dont seem to be familiar with the very famous bar here in town so you must not be from around here," you tease, holding out your hand to shake. "I'm [Y/N]. Not to sound weird but have we met before?" You get a very bold feeling of deja vu but laugh it off. "I'm sorry, my friends are supposed to be here by now and I'm socially handicapped, sometimes I dont know when to stop talking." Now you're just rambling at the breathtaking man in front of you and feeling red in the cheeks. 

"Its alright love, I sometimes feel socially handicapped around exquisite women such as yourself. Actually, that sounded like you're one of hundreds but I-- what I meant to say was that, you seem a little lonely. Can I buy you a drink?" He rambles, tugging at his jacket. 

"I am only allowed one drink, I know it sounds weird but I'm on a ticking time bomb, you see this?" You pull out your pager, "any moment this thing will go off and I have to skip back to work like a dreamy little school girl but inside I am dying of starvation, need a beer and twenty hours sleep." You just keep spitting up word vomit and your face is permanently pink but you just cant stop because what if it gets quiet? Now that's when it gets awkward.

"I don't think we have ever met because I'd remember you" Harry confirms, looking you up and down your shapely body. "What do you do for a living that has you on such a tight leash?" Taking a sip of his beer, he stands up and walks next to the chair you're sitting in. 

"Surgical intern, Dr. [Y/L/N] at your service, sir." You cant help but crack a little bit of the tension you have building up in your stomach while talking to him but that doesn't stop you from staring him in the eyes and trying your best to flirt. 

The aura around him is too intoxicating, too much to handle without trying to add a little humor in the mix. "I like it when you call me sir, Dr. [Y/L/N] but how long have you been a doctor? I'd love to get to know you before you have to leave me." He articulates, trying to captivate her attention.

"I love my job but it has been a long winded road, it feels like years but I've only been a real doctor for a little over two months. It takes a lot out of me but that is why I'm glad I have two great friends who I can lean on. We keep each other afloat and they're also my roommates. I don't know where I would be without them." All of that poured out of my mouth before I had the chance to cork it but I couldn't help telling him something about myself that was at least surface level.

He just seems like an eerie case of the best illusion I've ever seen. I cant help but shake the feeling that I've known him all my life, like telling him the ins-and-outs of my life wouldn't be detrimental to my health. 

"Now tell me something about yourself. For starters maybe your name? I've never seen you here before and I'm here all the time so I'm pretty good at knowing who is an out of towner, and I don't know how much time I have left." You're trying to get to know him and that is so unlike you. Having had boyfriends in the past, you were never the one asking the questions or wanting to get to know them more than a few dates and drinks. The longest relationship you have ever had was two months and you two went to high school together. 

"Hi I'm Harry, and I don't know how much longer I get to sit next to you so please can I have your number, sunshine? I would love to take you for dinner sometime soon." Harry is going out on a whim asking for your phone number but keeps going, "From what I have gathered you are a very busy woman and I admire that, love it even. I know this sounds crazy but I feel like I know you already and I have never felt that with another person so please give me a chance, I will work around your schedule. I dont care what it--" he is stopped when your pager goes off as an emergent patient being admitted, all hands on deck you assume. 

"Sunshine, huh? I like it." You wink at him and ask Mike for a pen so you can scrawl your number on a napkin and thank Harry for a very pleasant chat. It was good to know that he felt for you, as you did him after just meeting the man, and his nickname for you was adorable. 

For the next two weekends you spent getting to know Harry on a personal note. He told you he loved writing music, performing and was already an amazing talent. Harry showed you his latest music and you wondered how you hadn't connected the dots sooner. You knew he was a very private person, as he told you on your first date. 

(FLASHBACK)

"I'd love to get to know your friends, and see what kind of person you are. I can't wait to know you but I just want you to know that I can't have a lot of people knowing what is going on in my personal life." He sighs, you two sat down at dinner and he couldn't help but spit out what he wanted to tell you when you first met. "I don't want to sound pretentious or come off as someone who cares about his appearance to others but I have to tell you that I make music for a living and have quite the lot of fans. Screaming fans to be exact, " he chortles, asking the waiter for a bottle of wine to start off, "but I can't help but love them all. They made my career but I have to remain a private person. I adore my fans but they are very protective and I don't want our relationship to struggle because of a few of them saying unkind things." He grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes, trying to make you understand the reason for privacy.

"I've never met anyone like you Harry and I meet a lot of people on the regular. You have this way about you that draws me in and I want to get to know you. If that means that I cannot post my gushing about you on social media, so be it. I really like you and would like to know who you are." You declare, hoping he understands that he as a person means more than everyone understanding her lifestyle choices. 

(END OF FLASHBACK) 

Tonight was the night you knew you wanted to understand him on an even more personal level. You knew that the way you felt for him wasn't a normal crush, wasn't even a normal type of love. You knew he had the power to hurt you if he wished to do so but that was so far in the back of your mind. He meant so much to you already that it didn't matter you two were keeping your relationship a secret from most of the world, apart from a select few. It was the best date of them all, Harry cooked you and your best friends dinner so when you got off work, dinner was on the table. He was always so thoughtful of your needs and you thought it was the time to prioritize his.

"Take me to bed Harry." You whimper, "I want you." 

*7 MONTHS LATER* 

Things were hectic in your life but that was the way they always were but now it seemed like days stretched past 24 hours and turned into a marathon sprint that never ended. 

The day Harry unmistakably broke you was the day that sleep had everything on you. Going for days on end was something you were accustomed to but after he cut you deeper than you could ever be, sleep seemed to be your only friend. 

You thought you knew him better than anyone. He was your Harry, your everything, even your person maybe? 

But when his decision to take his career to the next step interfered in your relationship, your life; that was the day to call it quits no matter the devastation. He may have been your soulmate but maybe, just maybe it wasn't right. The timing, the place of it all was just too much. Your life just didn't have room for much else, especially someone who was willing to hurt you unimaginably and not walk away in order to lessen the blow. 

*2 WEEKS BEFORE THE INEVITABLE *

"Hey sunshine, just calling to let you know I wont be able to make it home this time. I'm sorry, the label has me doing something that I'm not sure is a good idea but they say it will help me in the long run." He sighs at the end, I imagine him palming his forehead.

"Look, I need you to listen to me when I tell you that you are everything to me, you make me want to become the best version of myself. During the months we have been together I have seen the best and worst side of you and I'm not running, promise. I want you to be mine forever, do you hear me? Just remember that." Harry expelled.

That was two hours ago and within those two hours you knew it was best to stay off your phone. You keep telling yourself to not look for anything leading you to clues about his voice mail. It wasn't like him to express his feelings over the phone, he was an in person 'declare-my-love-for-you' type of man so when you listened to it you thought it was best to stay off your phone. 

Trailing off to the shower in pursuit of getting to work, you hear your phone's inescapable shrill from your bedroom and decide to opt away from contact to that thing. 

As soon as you leave for work is when your heart stops, skips a few beats and then plummets into your stomach. 

"Harry Styles in a relationship with Camille Rowe? That is the best thing I have heard all week. The star tells us that they met months ago and kept it a secret in order to get to know each other. We cant wait for updates on their relationship. Now on to the juic--" That's all you can hear for the rest of the day, ringing in your mind like it is an announcement on the P.A. at work for all to hear. 

You knew that was the end of everything. Devastation didn't even hit the mark, it was like everything in the world was on fast forward and you were still trying to get through the commercials. Nothing made sense any more, the glass was no longer half full. It was completely drained and then smashed on the ground into a million little pieces. That was how her whole body felt, like it was just shattered on the ground, irreparable. 

The damage was done and there was nothing holding you back from wailing like a siren in front of all of the patients waiting for surgery, but your best friends always had your back. Making sure you eat during lunch and taking you to the bar at the end of your shift so you can drink the bottle dry. 

Just shy of a half hour sitting at the bar was when you were cut-off by Harry running into the bar rambling about how he thought they were spinning the tabloids another way. 

"I thought they were going to report that we just met and were already dating, I would have never let them ruin what we had by saying I knew her while you and I were together. I told them exactly what to say! I don't even know her, we just met." He jumbles his sentences trying to get hold of his clear message. 

You stand up from your seated position and start motioning for him to join you outside. Once out there, you decide what is best moving forward. 

"While we were together?" You scoff, trying to be as civil as can be under your obvious exhaustion, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"At least you said something truthful in the last two minutes you decided to interrupt my break. Yes, you and I are no longer together. Honestly we should have never started something, our careers couldn't be more opposite and honestly I cannot afford to ruin my career over someone who wants to build his on lies. So thank you for what we had but from now on I would like to move forward, away from you." You keep talking in order to get your point across, hoping that when all is said and done there will be closure on both ends. 

You know that Harry does care for you but in these last twenty four hours you've learned is that maybe you can't have it all. Maybe happily-ever-afters are only for the imagination. 

Maybe life throws things at you so you can overcome them but there are times like these when she wonders what the message is supposed to be? 

Is there a message? 

That you can have one person in your life that should be your forever but just cant fit in there? 

"I know we never said it but I do love you, I think I always will but we can't make it fit. The time we spent together was great and I hope there is a lesson in there somewhere. I can only believe that closure is what we need now." She grabs on to his shoulder and goes in for a hug to end the conversation but he pulls back,"How could you think that we need closure? What we need is each other. I need you, in my life with me forever. You are always going to be the only one for me, I just know it." He grabs on to her and holds for dear life, hoping that he can convey her to stick it out for them both. 

"I know what I'm feeling is selfish because I never want to hurt you but my career is part of my life and I can't run away from who I am but I want you in my life, always. I will never stop loving you." Harry pulls away and looks in her eyes with tears in his," I cannot fathom a life without my sunshine. Maybe the timing is wrong but cant we make it right?" 

[Y/N] pulls away, trying to compose herself and make the most rational decision. She needs to think about her life and what she needs, not anyone else. "Harry Styles, while being with you was the best rollercoaster ride of my life, and if I could stay on forever I would do so; I have to get off. I need to pull away for the sake of my head and heart. Being with you makes me happy but when it interferes with my work, which is saving lives, I have to be on one hundred percent all the time. You have clouded my thoughts and judgement, and while being a star is part of who you are, being a doctor is me so I cannot give up who I am. Sometimes maybe love isn't enough?" By this point you can't hold back the sobs you have held in since you knew the inevitable truth and holding them back would be foolish, so you let them come. 

Harry tries to grab onto you with the little strength he has left from crying and lack of sleep. "I cannot let you get away. You are my everything! I canno--" he tries to catch his breath in between the racks of his heart," please, please do not leave me [Y/N]. We can make this work. I love you and that is enough, it is enough for me. Please." Harry whispers the last part, crouching in front of you and trying to hold you to him. 

"It isn't enough for the both of us Harry, and you know it." You're trying to hold back until you can be alone. All you want is to crawl in bed and become dead to the world because that's how you feel right about now. " I will always love you and maybe one day that love will be enough but right now I just don't see how that is possible Harry. I can't rationalize what is happening in our relationship and tell you that we will make it through it. The best thing to do is cut our ties before we start to resent each other." You take one last breath, looking at your friends inside the bar. You signal to them that you're leaving, and say the one thing that you know will hurt the most. 

"I can't try anymore to be with you so this is my goodbye. I wish you the best Harry, I really do." In the middle of all this you had a death grip on his hands but now is the time to walk away from one of the best things to happen to you. As gut wrenching as it is, the best thing for the both of them was to move on. Worry about the time in their career when it is at the peak so as hurtful as it is, she knows that she is doing what's best. 

You pull away from his grasp, looking down at him kneeling on the ground and kiss his forehead. "I love you." You whisper through tears. 

All you can hear behind you is wails of sirens, drunk people cheering on the football game inside but the one thing that is the loudest is Harry's cries. As soon as you walk away you break down into a blubbering mess. Your friends catch up after you, while looking at the mess you and Harry made behind. You can hear Harry's cries of desperation and the only thing your heart is telling you to do is 'go back, go back to him' but you know it's not logical. 

If it is meant to be you will make it work at a better time. Things will come together and make sense one day but not when her mind is a fuzzy mess. Maybe weeks, months or years later she will understand what it means to have love be enough. It has to mean something right? 

Good byes may hurt but sometimes they are unsurpassable. Sometimes they come barreling into your life totally unexpected and ruin something you thought could be forever. 

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 6]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the (TBD) name of the fic.

Chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 are under the cut.

I don’t have too much to do today, so this’ll be shorter.

Set Up

Chapter 1

The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.

 Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”

“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.

Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.

 He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.

“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.

“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”

“You what?” Janus asked.

 ”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”

“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”

Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”

“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”

 Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.

He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.

“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’

 Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.

His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.

 He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.

The 2510s were an odd set of years.

 He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.

 No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.

 As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.

 He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.

“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.

A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.

 Chapter 2

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

 The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.

 A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.

 It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

 This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

 “But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

 The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

 She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

 “I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

 “If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

 Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

  Inciting Incident

Chapter 3

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

 Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

 Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

 He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

 Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.

 The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”

 “My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.

 Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”

 He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

 Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

 He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

 “You did?”

“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him.”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

   Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

 “I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

 “I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

 He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [22]

Summary: Nothing can ruin all the fun you and Tom have been having lately - right?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT - fingering, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes | 18+ ONLY |

Word Count: 4547

A/N: We’re back! I hope y’all enjoy this chapter, @thorsxodinson and I have poured our heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears into this fic and we can’t wait for y’all to see what we have coming!! 

masterlist | tag list - add yourself!

The autumn season breezed by, barely giving you time to adjust to your new(ish) life.

The hustle and bustle of the office as the end of the year approached may have had you running around with no end in sight, but you knew that at the end of the day, you would be able to recuperate at home.

Home.

Every morning you awoke to a fresh cup of tea on your nightstand, a note always sitting just to the right of it.

Good morning bug. Stop making that face, you know you secretly love it.

I’m making smoothies to go in the kitchen, so you better get in here fast before I take all the strawberries! xx Tom

While eating breakfast together had been somewhat of a rarity before, you now always found Tom sitting at the table with a book in one hand, and a fork full of bacon in the other - and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As November came to an end, and the first few days of December promised cold winds and a desire for hot chocolate by the fire, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the past year.

Tom was sitting at his desk in his home office, scrolling through some documents on his laptop when he heard a knock at the door.

“Its open,” He said, glancing up just in time to see you slip in. “Hello, darling,”

“Hello, bug,” You answered wistfully, laughing when you saw him raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got some hot chocolate for you,” You set the mug down in front of him, the artfully crafted whipped cream bobbing against the rim. 

“And to what do I owe such a wonderful treat?” Tom pushed his chair back from the desk, gently patting the top of his thigh before grabbing the mug. You got the hint, and sat on his lap as the two of you took a much needed sip. 

“Do you need a reason to drink some delicious hot chocolate?” You asked, a soft gasp escaping as you felt Tom’s grip on your waist.

“No better reason than the season, my love.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you planned a relaxing night in with Tom and Harrison, full of face masks and comedy films. You, Harrison, and Tom were in the kitchen, attempting not to burn a batch of homemade cookies, when you heard the elevator bell ring.

“Harrison, stop opening the oven!” You said, causing him to blush as he quickly shut the door. Tom was preparing a second tray of cookies when the kitchen door swung open, revealing an out of breath Mary, with what appeared to be velvet envelopes in hand.

“WE’RE GOING TO A GALA, BITCHES!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, the widest smile appearing on her face as she slammed the envelopes onto the counter.

“Whose gala?” Harrison asked, wiping his hands on the front of his borrowed apron.

“I have a doorbell for A REASON, you know! I had it checked, and it is not broken!” Tom clamored as he glanced down at the counter.

“Mary?” You walked up to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, locking eyes with her as she met your questioning gaze.

Gathering whatever oxygen she could, she said, “Tom… Motherfuckin’... Hiddleston.” 

You felt your jaw drop, and you couldn’t hold back the scream building up in the back of your throat.

“HOLY FUCK!”

“I KNOW, BITCH! CAN YOU BELIEVE!”

“I can’t believe it… we’re gonna meet the Tom Hiddleston?” You could feel your face growing warmer with just the thought of being in the same room as him.

“The supreme Tom, of course,” Mary said, ignoring Tom’s pointed look as she continued. “And we are all going, I don’t care if you have the same name, Stanley!”

“We’ve definitely lost her, she’s gone fully cracked,” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in apparent frustration. 

Harrison looked amongst you all before chiming in, “Do you think we ought to warn his security team?”

“Tom, do not try and prevent me from enjoying this glorious moment!” You met his gaze, raising your eyebrows as he opened his mouth to say something. 

“Does this mean I’m your date, Mary?” Haz asked, his cheeks a rosy blush hue as he looked at her.

“Fuck a date; I’m going single!”

Hiddleston’s charity gala was in two weeks, in London, of all places. Tom and Harrison were delighted to finally have a chance to return home, even if they were dreading attending the event. 

You walked into your bedroom, and found Tom studying two different suits he had laid out on the bed.

“It’s just a gala, Tom,” You said, tilting your head to the side as you leaned against the wall opposite him.

“It’s Tom Hiddleston’s gala, darling. I can’t just show up to one of his galas, I need to-”

“Make an entrance, yadda yadda yadda, we get it, Stanley! You’re afraid the superior Thomas will steal us away and you’ll be all alone, blah blah blah. Anywho, I need to borrow your darling for some dress shopping!” Mary cut him off, rolling her eyes as he glared at her. She was leaning against the doorframe of his room.

Taking hold of your hand, you flashed Tom a weak smile before walking out the door with her.

Mary brought you to her favorite boutique in Manhattan, and pulled out two photos of gowns from her purse as you walked into the shop. Before you could glance at them, Mary handed them to one of the stylists you recognized from the last time you were here.

“Just these, Ms. Robinson?” 

“Yes, thank you, Liza. I’ll let you know if Clara needs to make any alterations. And you,” She took your hand in yours and lead you towards the dressing rooms in the back of the salon. “...are coming with me! Let’s get this party started, ladies!”

Downing the last of the champagne, you studied the gown in front of you. 

“Are you ready to put it on, miss?” Liza was standing behind the podium, her glasses on the tip of her nose.

You nodded and stepped up, shrugging off your white robe as she undid the buttons on the back of the gown. 

Once everything was buttoned up and pinned, you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. 

The silk gown itself was a caramel nude shade, adorned with an intricate pattern comprised of different blue and silver jewels that sparkled under the light. The thigh high slit on your left leg allowed the silver stilettos you were wearing to shine through. 

What really caught you off guard about the dress was the extravagant blue silk sash that was draped across your midsection and shoulders, falling over the front of your figure like a cathedral length veil.

“What do you think?” Liza asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she met your gaze in the mirror.

“I think I’m still processing this, to be honest.” A knock at the door interrupted your flow of thought.

“Get out here and let me see!” 

Making sure you wouldn’t step on the sash, you moved into the middle of the dressing area, where Mary was already studying herself in the mirror.

It was the epitome of Mary, and you were truly taken aback by how beautiful it was. 

The pitch black gown draped over the podium, leading your eyes up to find intricate lace and jewel detailing on the sleeves. As she turned, you noticed the top of the gown appeared to be like a sash; draping itself over Mary’s left shoulder, and hitting the floor at the same length as the hem of the gown. Mary’s dress also had a thigh high slit, but hers was adorned with a partial jeweled pattern coming down the edge. 

“Holy shit!” Mary exclaimed, brushing her gown to the side as she stepped down to meet you at eye-level. “I know I have excellent taste but Jesus, I’ve really knocked it out of the park with this one, haven’t I? You look hot!” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you ran a finger over the detailing. “I don’t think I ever thought I’d see myself in a dress like this, so thank you,”

“No need to thank me, babe. I will be expecting a massive thank you gift basket from your white boy after he sees you in this because fuck, he’s gonna go insane over this.”

Your flight landed at Heathrow at 8pm, a mere 24 hours before the gala. As you waited for the private limousine in the hangar, you listened to Tom and Haz discuss their ideas for the weekend.

“If we don’t go to the London Eye, I will riot, mate,”

“Why’re you being such a tourist, Holland? You’re acting like it’s your first time in the UK,” Harrison raised his eyebrows as he peered over Tom’s shoulder at you.

“You put him up to this?” 

You held up your hands. “I haven’t been to London like… ever? So I don’t know what to do - this is all him!” 

“Osterfield, let me live, alright! We’re also going to the Shard, so”

“Jesus, you’re really pulling out all the stops,” Harrison said under his breath as he sat on top of his suitcase.

“Wouldn’t you, if you were here with someone you loved?” Harrison sighed and nodded.

“You have a point, I suppose,” He acknowledged as he looked up and met Tom’s jet-lagged gaze. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with the fact you want to go to all the overpacked, touristy spots!”

When the limos pulled up to the curb of the Hotel Café Royal, you couldn’t help your jaw dropping as you took in the intrinsic architecture of the building.

“Thomas, this better be the penthouse!” Mary shouted over the cars driving by as she grabbed her bag. 

“Which room, sir?” The bellboy asked as he grabbed the suitcases from the limo driver. Taking your hand in his, Tom turned and answered. “The Dome Suite, thank you.”

The elevator ride was short and sweet, giving you no time to prepare for the overwhelming grandness of the suite before you as you all stepped out onto the pristine marble floors.

The residence was under a copper-domed rotunda, and - according to the bellboy - spanned 3,132 square feet of space. Tom led you into the curved living room, where you noticed one of the terraces that looked over all of London. 

“Your rooms are down to the left here; ours is through these doors here,” Tom gestured to his right as he milled about the massive room. 

Mary flashed you a peace sign before following Harrison down the hall, the sounds of doors closing echoing behind them.

“Shall we, my love?” Tom walked with you into the master suite, where you were greeted by a massive green wall; massive sofas, a dining table, and wet bar on one side, and what appeared to be a bathroom on the other. Tom continue moving, leading you around the wall in the back of the room, where the bedroom was.

Nothing too fancy about the bed, but you were thankful for its softness as you sunk into the comforter.

“Already tired, sweetheart?” Tom cooed as he placed his suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Ask me again in 12 hours, yeah?”

The next day, Mary kicked Tom out of the master suite at 4:30pm, making sure he had everything he needed before locking the door.

“I can’t have him seeing my wondrous beauty ahead of everyone else, am I right?” 

Mary helped you put your gown on, before she sat you down in front of her makeshift vanity to get you red carpet ready. 

Once she’d worked her magic, you couldn’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror as you waited for Mary to finish her makeup.

A rap at the door brought you back down to Earth; Mary shouted over her blasting music: “Not YET, idiots!” 

Fifteen minutes later, Mary poked her head around the corner, flashing you a toothy grin.

“Ready, babe?”

“As ready as I can be.”

“Time to find Tom Hiddleston!”

Seeing the cameras flashing from the corners of your eye only elevated your already racing heartbeat as the limousine came to a slow stop outside Christ Church’s The Nave; you could see dozens of guests climbing up the steps to the entrance, dazzling gowns beaming under the flashing lights.

“You okay, love?” Tom placed his hand over yours as you met his worried gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” You whispered, squeezing his hand gently as he nodded.

“Just remember, I’m here.”

The loud crowd consumed your thoughts as the limo door opened, but you focused on Tom as he helped you out of the car. Walking up to the bottom of the stairs, you posed for a few photos. 

Tom had his hand on your waist and held you close to his side; you smiled wide, stealing a few glances at him before he helped you up the steps. 

Once inside, you marveled at the oak panelling across the grand room, and the Tuscan columns that led the eye all the way to the ceiling of flowers. 

“One hell of a party, am I right!” Mary appeared from the crowd, Harrison close behind, drinks already in hand. 

“I know I could do better,” Tom scoffed, his eyes taking in the venue space.

“Sure you could, Stanley! Hey, do I get some sort of thank you for how fucking amazing she looks?” Mary pointed at your gown, and Tom rolled his eyes, even when you could see how flushed he’d gotten. 

“I’ll be sure to pay a commission for picking out the dress, Mary!” 

A crowd of people towards the back of the space cheered loudly, and Mary’s attention was piqued - “Got to go, boys! A Mr. Hiddleston awaits us!” 

Before Tom could protest, Mary took your hand and led you through the throngs of people, until you happened upon the cheering crowd.

And sure enough, the gracious host himself, Tom Hiddleston, was standing at the heart of the group, a glass of champagne in hand as he talked with them.

He glanced up and caught a glimpse of you and Mary, and a spark of recognition seemed to cross his features.

“Excuse me just a moment,” He said, flashing everyone a smile as he moved through the group towards you. 

Mary pinched you hard in the arm as she tried to maintain her composure; Tom approached you two and smiled, lifting his glass slightly as if to say hello.

“I thought I recognized you, darling. Ms. Robinson, from New York? You run that phenomenal activism site! I heard about your gala, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to come,” As he continued chatting Mary up, you could tell she was in a daze; after all, she was talking with the man she’d been obsessing over for the past few weeks.

You squeezed her hand as a goodbye before you began to search for the original British men you’d come with.

A few rounds of circling the highboys around the room finally led you to Tom and Harrison, who were nursing drinks at a table against the wall. 

“Why the long faces, boys?” You walked over to Tom and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He wrapped an arm around your waist as he dropped his head on your shoulder, sighing exasperatedly. 

“Tommy is just upset he can’t throw as lavish a gala as Hiddleston can,” Harrison said, laughing when Tom flipped him off.

“I think I’m going to lose my mind if I’m here for any longer, my love,” He whispered in your ear.

As he pulled away, the DJ put on a playlist that begged for dancing, so you took Tom’s hand in yours and led him towards the dance floor at the heart of the room.

“He’s got two left feet, you know!” Harrison yelled over the blasting music.

Tom shook his head and flipped off his best friend once more, before turning to find you waving your free arm around maniacally.

Pulling you into his side, Tom leaned in impossibly close: “Have I told you how fucking amazing you look tonight, princess?” 

The pet name made your heart want to burst, but you ignored the rushing adrenaline as you turned your back to him and pushed yourself up against him.

Tom grunted deep in his throat at your movements, tugging at the knot of his tie with one hand while the other wrapped itself around your waist.

Resting your head back against his chest, you swayed your hips left and right, brushing up against Tom in the most torturous way possible.

He could see the game you were playing from a mile away, and he was surprised, but insanely excited to see where you were going with this.

Following your lead, Tom leaned in and left a hot, open mouth kiss on your neck. You could feel his lips trailing up to your jaw, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the pleasure.

Tom pulled you back with firm squeeze of your ass, making you gasp as he chuckled darkly.

Turning to face him, you pulled him in close, resting your hands on his chest as he settled his own on your waist.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, baby,” He said over the loud music. The smug smirk on his face told you what he was thinking, and there was no way in hell you were letting him get away that easy. 

Grabbing his hand, you guided him through the pool of sweaty bodies dancing to a secluded hallway. Tom soon realized where you’d brought him - the bathroom.

Opening the door with your hip, you dragged him inside, locking it behind you.

Before he could come up with a smug remark, you pushed Tom against the door, and pulled him close with a tug of his tie.

“Did you really think you’d won, that easily?” 

“You could say that,” Tom offered as he watched you crouch down to look under the stalls. All of them were empty. As you straighten back up, he added, “Are you going to prove me otherwise?”

You silenced him with a rough, bruising kiss. It's meant to put Tom in his place instead of arousing him, but it does both, actually; his neck is flushed and his heavy-lidded eyes are trained on your lips when you finally pull back.

"If you think you can get away with beating me at my own game, you’re quite mistaken," Tom pushed himself off the door, and backed you towards the sinks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes. "If you insist." Hoisting yourself up onto the counter, you pulled the hem of your dress over your thigh.

"Music to my ears, baby," Tom quipped cheekily. He crowded in on you and pushed your knees apart. The fabric of your dress bunched up around your waist, leaving your pussy exposed. Running his hands up your thigh, he teased you with his index finger, running it up and down your slit several times, reveling in how warm you felt.

With his free hand, Tom grabbed your neck, kissing you roughly. The other excruciatingly drew circles over your folds, ever so slowly. Bringing you back to him, Tom pressed his lips against yours to quiet your keening from his touch, distracting you just enough with his tongue in your mouth, dancing sinfully with yours.

Breaking the kiss, Tom pressed his forehead against yours and grinned at you. “I’ve truly missed this, darling.”

With your chest heaving, you reached down, fumbling to unbuckle his belt. Sliding down from the counter, you pushed your dress back to fall to your knees, but Tom stopped you before you had the chance.

“Did I say you could do that, princess?”

The look in his eyes was different than before; like he’d finally decided what he wanted to do with you. Like he was going to tease you until you were nothing but a writhing mess for thinking you could do this to him, free of consequences.

Rising up from the floor, you looked at one another for what felt like an eternity, until Tom couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s now or never.

Pressing you flush against the counter, he pushed back the hem of your dress and began toying with your pussy once again. His mouth found yours, his lips soft yet rough against your own as he swallowed every moan that fell from them.

Moving from your lips to your jaw, Tom spoke between every kiss. "God, you're already dripping wet and we've barely started."

You let out another moan in response and tilted your head back until it bumped the mirror behind you. Tom reigned in his smug smile and continued to touch you until his hands were coated in your desperation. Only then did he unzip his trousers and pulled out his cock.

He was hard and leaking from the tip, but that was hardly a surprise, considering you were at his mercy. Better yet, you were eager to continue. Tom could feel your eyes on him as he gingerly stroked himself, spreading the pre-come over the head with his thumb.

“Would you please just fuck me already?" With a little maneuvering you managed to lean back on the sink's countertop, revealing glistening, dewy flesh for his gaze. You spread yourself open with your middle finger and glanced up at him.

The sight you were presenting was admittedly very tempting. Tom could easily set aside his plan and give in to what you wanted. What you both wanted, really. He was already picturing it - just his cock slipping in and out of you, your body writhing underneath him. 

But he didn’t want that. Oh, no. He wanted to push you to the edge only to deny you. He wanted your climax to rip through you; drown you in pleasure. And yet...

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tom grunted. He leaned in, aligning your bodies together. "To get what you so desperately want?”

You nodded enthusiastically, gripping the countertop in anticipation. Rocking his hips forward, Tom rubbed the length of his cock along your slick opening. You couldn’t help but gasp at the tantalizing friction, tilting your pelvis so that he could easily slip inside.

It was a subtle, clever move on your part but Tom saw right through it.

"Too bad," he murmured, taking his cock in hand again. You whimpered at the sudden loss of his body brushing against yours, but he paid no mind to your desperate pleas. "This is far more fun, don't you think?" Not waiting for a reply, he took the tip of his cock in hand and rubbed it lightly against the hood of your clit.

Your whimpering cries spurred him to keep on teasing you until your eyes were clenched tight, your chest heaving from shallow breaths.

"You like that, princess?" Tom questioned. He continued the rhythmic slide of his skin against yours.

"Yes! Yes, fuck. God, please." Your hands rove over his back, pawing at his velvet suit jacket.

"Jump off and turn around; your back facing me."

You stumbled over your heels in a haste to obey. Pulling your gown up to your waist, you flung the extra fabric into the sink next to you. 

"Bend over," he ordered.

You complied, pressing yourself against the cold counter, your back arched and your cunt aching in anticipation. Tom stepped back and took a moment to appreciate the glistening juices slipping down your thighs. Fuck, I missed this view. 

"Tom!" You squealed as his hand landed a resounding slap on your ass. He spanked the other cheek for good measure and this time you moaned at the contact.

"You missed this." He made it a statement, not a question, because it's obvious from your wet, dripping cunt that you were enjoying every. Fucking. Moment. 

"Maybe." You couldn’t help yourself, and glanced over your shoulder at him, biting your lip. "Don’t stop now, daddy,"

Tom’s breath fell short as he heard that all-too familiar word roll off your tongue. You were the only one who could utter it and get him to fall to his knees. But not this time.

"Spread your legs for me," he commanded, his cock aching with pleasure as he watched you teeter in your high heels, trying to regain control of your shaky legs. Once you had adjusted, your back a beautiful straight line and your ass pressed against his hard cock, Tom grabbed hold of your hair and lightly pulled until he was certain you could see yourself in the mirror.

"Look at that, baby," he murmured, wrapping your hair around his hand.

"What?" you gasped.

"How beautiful you are, waiting for my cock." Wasting no time, Tom gripped his erection by the base and nudged the tip between your soaking folds. The damp heat of your skin welcomed him and he shuddered from the amount of self-control it took to pause for a moment and make sure you were still looking at your reflection.

Your eyes were trained on the mirror image, and the amount of pure, unadulterated desire that was plainly etched across your face – desire for him – was enough to soften the blows from his anxiety over the past few weeks. You still wanted him.

Right now, you had this, and as Tom finally sank into the blissfully tight, velvety heat of your pussy, he vowed to make every minute worth its while. For you.

As the end of the year approached faster than a bullet, Tom was spending longer hours at the office and less time with you.

There were only a few days left before the new year would ring in, and he had to make the most of his time at work; home would always be waiting for him.

Or so he thought.

Just as he finished wrapping up yet another expense report for the board, Tom heard a loud knock at his office door.

“Come in, it’s open,” Tom didn’t bother to see who crossed the threshold until he heard a painstakingly familiar voice across the way.

“Glad to see you’ve got some consideration for your company, Thomas.”

His father walked with confidence as Tom met him halfway, his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks as he took in his father’s gaze.

“What’re you doing here?” 

“That’s no way to speak to your father, boy. Besides… I come bearing bloody brilliant news.” Dom glanced back at the empty wet bar in the back of the room, and rolled his eyes. “We can celebrate later, I suppose.”

“What’s the news?” Tom asked, brows furrowed together as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

Clearing his throat, Dom flashed his son a wicked smile as he handed him a yellow manila folder, two tickets clipped to the front.

Tokyo.

“I want you to kick off the new year spearheading the brand-new company headquarters out of Toyko. Should only take a year, if all goes well.”

tags - part 1:

@cherrynat​ @anytimebitches​ @joyfullyje @jobean12-blog​ @emotchalla​ @enigma-xlii​ @illletitgrow​ @cloverrover​  @justaveryobsessedfangirl​ @ssweet-empowerment​ @killmongerdreams​ @spideytrxsh​ @eyestheyseeyou​ @aussie-mantle​ @spidergirlwanab​ @i-think-i-am-adorable​ @amanda51015-blog​ @princessskylarsblog​ @whoneedsalifeanyhowxx​ @chinalois​ @clairesrainbow​ @darkerthanspace​ @slighttinsomniac​ @curlytomholland​ @wanderlustomaha​ @hollandazing​ @mendes-marvel​ @wowspideyholland​​ @santaholland​

[jippy-kandi]

Digimon Adventure 2002 → 2027: Yamato Ishida & Sora Ishida (née Takenouchi)

“Yamato and Sora got married. They began a relationship at Christmas in 02 episode 38. After that, their love blossomed into marriage.” -- Hiromi Seki, Digimon Producer

Headcanons:

Before tri., I had Yamato and Sora being middle school sweethearts all the way up to marriage, with only one minor hiccup (a very brief breakup after high school to ~find themselves). But they only dated each other. Well . . . these are now my headcanons after tri., I suppose:

Yamato and Sora have been in an on-again, off-again relationship since they were 14. This is mostly because one or both of them would get scared when things “got too serious” and so they would break up for a while . . . only to find themselves back together again. This is a pattern that would repeat until they were married.

They lost their virginity to each other straight after high school graduation. This was NOT a decision that they took lightly -- but, seeing as they’ve been dating on-and-off since they were 14 . . . to them, it was time. They discussed it at length and decided after graduation was “right”, before their new lives started in college where they might not be able to see each other often, as they were going to different colleges and they weren’t sure of their workloads, how their timetables clashed, etc. (FYI: “Most” Japanese teens who are NOT having sex are those who do NOT have partners . . . but Yamato and Sora obviously do. And, chances are, if you have a partner, you’re having sex just like every other hormonal teenager around the world. Japan’s “sexless” reputation is from super shy nerds who can’t even get partners, and not those in the relative minority who do date.)

As it turned out, they didn’t get to see each other as often as they’d like once college began, and thus decided to put a break on their relationship to focus on their studies.

Yamato dated about five other girls (one in high school, the rest in college), and had sex with three of them in college. They were all casual relationships (less than three months). Sora was his only serious relationship and he thought about her all the time, so much so that he even said her name once during sex with one of his other girlfriends. Yamato never initiated the breakups with those girls; instead, they would break up with him saying things like he “was too distant”, “broods too much”, “was clearly pining after another girl”.

Sora ended up dating two guys pretty seriously (six months to a year); one in her first year of college and one in her second-going-onto-third year. She even had sex with the last boyfriend, to prove to herself that she could fall in love with someone other than Yamato -- but instantly regretted it. She constantly compared both of them to Yamato and couldn’t commit to them more because she was always thinking about him, so she broke up with them after she admitted to herself she couldn’t love them like she loved Yamato. She still remained friends with both exes, however.

Sora and Yamato got back together for a few months in their second year of college, before getting scared again at the intensity of their feelings (should a relationship really be this serious at their young age?), and breaking up again to date other people more “casually”. But they eventually, finally, found their way back together again in their final year of college. (To me, they are together during Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna.)

They got married at 24 on Christmas Eve, 10 years since they first started dating. This was a spur-of-the-moment decision that surprisingly made sense to them. It was shortly after they both admitted exactly how they felt about each other and what they truly wanted; that they were 100% serious about each other, despite what others may think of their young age, and were in it for the long haul. Their marriage was their “promise” to each other to stay and work through their fears, insecurities, etc. no matter what.

Their “early” marriage also symbolised their commitment to each other while they had to be apart for long periods of time, as Yamato had to train to become a military test pilot, and Sora was busy preparing to launch her own fashion line within 3 years.

Sora became an Ishida because taking the male surname is the overwhelming norm in Japanese society. Sora also struggled with living up to the expectation of a Takenouchi so much (especially in Kizuna where she just wants to be herself, free of expectations) that she didn’t want to put the significance (burden) of the Takenouchi name on her own children. She may also use Takenouchi professionally, but legally she is an Ishida, as are her children with Yamato. It takes the least mental gymnastics to come to this conclusion.

Sora does not take over as iemoto for her mother, but branches out and begins her own journey as a fashion designer with her own identity. Her mum is still so proud of her.

Sora and Yamato both agreed to focus on their careers before thinking of having children so that they were financially secure enough to raise them. But they both strongly wanted children eventually and were very clear about that to each other from the start. They planned to have two children so that the siblings would be playmates.

Yamato was selected by the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) to become an astronaut at around age 27. His past experience as a Chosen Child fighting digimon threats gave him the edge over other highly skilled pilots. He begins intensive training for three years to become an astronaut, with the intent to go into space for the first time around age 30, but he passes on his first offered mission because Sora becomes pregnant and he wants to be there to support her (and also to be present at the birth of his first child).

Sora is 31 when she gives birth to their first child, a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. They name her Yuki (”snow”) because of her porcelain skin, which is just like Yamato’s.

Yamato goes on his first space mission to the International Space Station (ISS) when their daughter is around a year old, which takes him away from home for about six months. It was especially hard because he had a daughter now, but they had lots of video calls and before he knew it, he was back home with his favourite girls.

For the next two years, Sora and Yamato raise their daughter together as a pretty normal family unit, taking lots of photos and recording lots of videos of their little girl. During this time, Yamato is still training for future missions and Sora is growing her fashion business.

At age 34/35, Sora becomes pregnant with their second child. Around the middle of this second pregnancy, Yamato goes on his second space mission, this time to the moon for one month. He is back with plenty of time for the birth of their second child, a son with Sora’s colouring, that they name Shou (“soar”).

Sora has been holding down the fort at home with help from her parents and in-laws to look after the kids when Yamato goes away for weeks at a time to train. She runs a pretty successful local fashion business that she hopes one day will go worldwide when she’s able to put more time and resources into it.

Because Natsuko helps out quite a bit with the Ishida kids, she and Yamato actually become closer than they’ve ever been. This makes Sora happy that Yamato has finally reconnected with his mother. He does appreciate her help and, now that he’s a parent himself, he sympathises more with how she must’ve felt having him “reject” her. He even tells her he loves her one day, at Sora’s encouragement.

Hiroaki has a super soft spot for Yuki because he’s only had sons and she is his only granddaughter. The love is mutual and Hiroaki is Yuki’s favourite grandparent! She adores him and he teaches her how to play the harmonica, just like he taught Yamato many years ago.

Toshiko and Haruhiko are both retired and actually live with Sora and the kids when Yamato is away on missions. This also greatly reassures Yamato that Sora doesn’t get overwhelmed and that her parents are there to support her when he can’t physically be there.

As Yamato’s partner, Sora is used to feeling apprehensive every time he would pilot fighter jets in his 20s and now rockets in his 30s. The feeling never really goes away, no matter how many thousands of hours Yamato has clocked as a pilot. But she has always tried to put faith in Yamato and JAXA that everything will be fine. However, shortly after Shou’s birth, there is an accident at JAXA where several astronauts (including friends of Yamato) unfortunately died, and this scares Sora so much that Yamato decides to lay low at work and not take on any missions for about two years, for Sora’s sake.

Eventually, after JAXA has a few more successful missions and no incidents, Yamato feels as though Sora would be ready for him to accept another mission and so brings up the topic one day. But they probably have the biggest argument in their marriage over this. Sora even asks Yamato to quit JAXA, out of fear of losing him -- and she even throws the topic of their kids at him (is he OK with making them fatherless?), which she never thought she’d do, but . . .. It’s huge and explosive but, in the end, the two work it out and emerge stronger than ever. Sora just doesn’t want him to die, and Yamato completely understands that, but he reassures her JAXA knows exactly what went wrong during the accident and that their safety measures have improved dramatically because of it. He also promises her he’d do everything in his power to stay alive for her and the kids.

At around age 37, Yamato goes on his most important space mission as Commander, this time to Mars for two years, after lengthy discussions about it with Sora. Two years is a long time to be apart from each other and to miss out on his kids growing up. But it’s Yamato’s dream, so they decide that, at his age, this is his last chance and he has to take it. Yamato and Sora (as well as their kids) miss each other terribly, but accept that two years will be the longest they’ll ever be away from each other. They did have voice calls while Yamato was on Mars, but it took more than half an hour each way for their voices to reach each other, so contact was definitely not as easy was it was on the moon or the ISS.

Thankfully, Yamato is never gone for more than a few weeks after that. Well, maybe he has one more stint for six months at the International Space Station a few years later -- but that’s it!

Yamato and Sora have a surprise third baby (a son with blond hair and red/brown eyes named Kaito, meaning “ocean” and “fly”) about five years after Shou, born when Sora is around age 40. Yes, Kaito was conceived on Yamato’s return home from Mars. Things got really heated in the bedroom for a while after that return!

Yuki is a very energetic and outgoing tomboy in her childhood. Sora and Yamato are surprised they managed to create such an extrovert. She doesn’t seem that protective of her brothers (unlike Yamato was of Takeru) -- until someone threatens them, then she goes into Big Sister Mode. She’s a social butterfly who makes friends with everyone and, like Sora, outgrows a lot of her tomboyishness when she becomes a teenager.

Shou is a shy boy who often hides behind his mother, sister and cousin (Takeru’s only son). At first he is even shy around Yamato, because Shou is only four years old when Yamato returns from Mars. But he quickly gets used to having a father (he doesn’t even remember this brief period of thinking Yamato was a stranger to him, when he’s older) and becomes super attached to Yamato. Yamato is glad and indulges him, as he was a bit heartbroken Shou treated him as a stranger for his first few weeks home. Shou tells bullies at school that his father is huge and can beat up their dads, so they shouldn’t try anything.

Kaito is a nice balance of his two older siblings, and is very curious about the world and is always asking questions. He’s more of an introvert like his brother, but he isn’t shy at all. Despite the age gap between him and Shou, the two are extremely close brothers -- Shou always included him, even when he was a teenager and Kaito was literally just a kid. As the baby of the family, Kaito also managed to get away with things his older siblings didn’t growing up.

All the Ishida kids are incredibly creative and athletic. Yamato feels like he hit the jackpot and brags about them all the time to Takeru, Taichi, Jou, etc. Sora is always amused, if slightly embarrassed.

All the kids idolise Yamato “the famous astronaut” who went to Mars. But Yamato makes sure they appreciate Sora too -- and they do, because she’s the one that was always there for them when Yamato was away.

Yamato is feels incredibly thankful that Sora supported him and his career; he honestly doubted he would’ve achieved his dreams without her by his side, encouraging him and making personal sacrifices to take care of their children -- which was his other dream, to have a close-knit family. Even though he’s been to space and saw truly amazing things, he still feels as though his greatest accomplishment was having and raising three kids with Sora, his soulmate.

Sora’s fashion kimono line truly blooms after Yamato’s return from Mars, where he is a more permanent fixture at home and he can help take care of the kids more often, while she can put a lot more effort into running her business. Her fashion kimonos eventually hit big worldwide and she now runs a very successful business that turns over millions of dollars. She is definitely the breadwinner and Yamato couldn’t be more proud of her. He especially likes that she allows him to have a small collection of motorcycles (he can’t wait until his kids grow up to appreciate them with him).

Despite several periods of zero physical contact (six months/one month/two years/six months), Yamato and Sora are actually closer than most couples simply because of their personalities and how they both operate on pure emotion. They support each other fully and are each other’s rock. Because they both grew up pretty lonely, they make an effort to always stay connected no matter where they are, and to never feel alone. With three kids and each other (as well as Gabumon and Piyomon), they find it hard not to accomplish this.

They lived happily ever after. And if you don’t think so, you can come and fight me.

(Note: I’ve written about Sorato a tonne over the years. If you want more thoughts on Sorato, you can find quite a bit here.)

[strongsassysexysloane]

Ain’t life a B*tch

What if Jack and Reader had a past? What if it went terribly wrong?  . . . . .

The crisp, cold air of DC hit you in the face as soon as you exited the airport. You hunched into your thick, woollen winter coat, wrapping it around your middle, tucking it in tighter, you flick up the collar to shield your neck from the bone chilling wind and hail a taxi. Luckily a taxi pulled up right away and you chucked your duffel in the boot, not bothering to wait for the driver to assist which he didn't.  

"NCIS, please." You sing as you slide into the back seat, you were half expecting the driver to ask for the address but he just nodded and you curled up in the back seat as he pulled out. You cupped your hands and blew into them, trying to bring some warmth back.

"Federal Agent?" He asked, looking at you quickly in the rear view mirror before returning his view to the road. It was snowing, not blizzard like but enough to be extra weary of the road. Well maybe for you, the taxi driver's in DC were a different story. It reminded you of a certain old friends driving.

"Yeah, you know about NCIS?" You laughed to yourself, you'd just come back from being an Agent afloat for the past five years on and off. You didn't mind being at sea, found it almost comforting but when you docked no one ever knew what NCIS meant. Anytime you came ashore you'd meet up with other agents passing through and they just thought you were crazy for enjoying the sea, being alone but you'd grown up on boats all your life and being on the ocean was a comfort for you, the solitude was peaceful. That and five years ago when you first got assigned you were in a pretty serious relationship but being Agent Afloat wasn't something you wanted to put anyone else through, even if it was the love of your life. You wanted to get assigned and they just didn't get it, no one ever did. So the seas was definitely an escape of emotions for you.

"Sister works in Human Resources there." He chuckled like there was a story behind it but you didn't really want to talk. It probably had something to do with that old friend who worked in DC NCIS.

"That's hard no matter where you work." A half smile was added and you turn back to looking out the window, the snow falling was calming. Although your heart was racing, it hadn't stopped since you got off the ship. It was the end of another chapter and this next one was very uncertain.

It had been five years, since you'd been in DC. A place you didn't have any ties with, you were a San Diego girl. Surf and sun. Last time you were here was the night you got assigned and shipped out the following morning. The painful memories flashing before your eyes like the traffic lights flying by. A tear escaped and fell down your cheek, you quickly wiped it away and tried to smile. That was the day you got what you wanted and your world also broke in two. Now there was a new mission ahead of you, the Director was assigning you a team, you'd most likely be staying in DC for quite some time and the feeling was terrifying.

The taxi ride was way shorter than you liked or remembered. When he pulled up to the front gate you tapped your credit card, hopped out of the car. "Thanks." You slammed the door and grabbed the duffel out of the boot before walking to the gates. It all looked the same, no one here liked changed, especially Leon Vance.

"Welcome home Agent Y/N." The Director met you at security with a smile. He had changed though, the years of being Director had definitely gotten to him. People probably didn't notice because they saw him every day but after five years, it was easy to see. He loved his job but it wasn't easy. Plus his two kids probably added to the stress, like it would for any parent.

"Been too long Leon." You lean into his hug. "You finally tore me away from my beloved ship." He chuckled as you stepped apart.

"Most Agents want to jump ship after a year." You both laugh and walk through security. It was true, you remember somewhere along the line you'd hit some kind of record for longest on a single ship or Agent Afloat, you can't remember. It wasn't important to you, but it apparently mattered to others or maybe it concerned others. "How are you?"

You catch up with small talk while riding the elevator up to the Bull Pen. Leon caught you up on the big cases you knew about and his kids, he adored them so much. You had met them a few times while travelling back and forth from necessary conferences and such in DC, even met Jackie once or twice those years ago. The elevator thankfully dings and opens before he can get too much into your personal life which you've barely had one since being Agent Afloat which is how you liked it, simple. Not lonely at all. "Ever thought of a colour change?" Your eyes wonder around the bull pen, your eyes instantly burning from the orange glare, as orange as you remember and hate. Your eyes land on the team in the centre of the bullpen. The silver hair shining from the skylight above and you smile, nothing had changed. He'd have that desk until the day he died. Although you couldn't help but have a small laugh when you saw Agent McGee. That beard was something new and you couldn't make up your mind if you hated it or loved it.

"We did once but no one really likes change." Vance smirked but you heard the sadness in recalling that memory. Luckily you were in California at the time but jumped on a plane as soon as you heard. It was all hands on deck for a while before a case pulled you back to San Diego again. A day no one at the Agency or DC will forget.

"Well, well, well." Agent McGee looks up from behind his computer, standing up and walking towards you with open arms as you and Vance walk closer. "Finally got you back on land?"

You laugh, dropping your duffel bag and pull him in for a hug. "Heard Gibbs was mellowing and had to see it to believe it." You snicker and everyone laughs. The two Agents you don't know snicker at the joke but their smiles suddenly vanish quickly. Your eyes look over at his desk as you step back from McGee but he's gone and you instantly can't help but gulp, expecting the incoming not so gentle love tap. "He's behind me isn't he?" You see the young blonde agent nod. "Hello Gibbs." You turn slightly and to your surprise there's no classic Gibbs Slap. Things must've really changed once Tony left. You were kidding about him mellowing but now you were curious.

Gibbs has his trademark glare painted on but you can see through it. See the corner of his mouth twitch and the light in his piercing eyes. He did teach you some of your interrogation skills after all. There was no one better to learn from. "Agent Y/N, what has Ducky told you?" His slanted smile appears and you laugh.

"Many, many things." His arms open and you walk into his big bear like hug. "If I knew you were into hugging now, I would've come back sooner." You feel a slight tap to the back of your head and laugh, there it was. His old ways still ever present, just only for the right moments.

"Wow, he hasn't done one of those in years." McGee comments, a sad smile gracing his lips. No doubt remembering a few good old times of his friends and that famous head slap.

You turn to Gibbs with a cocked brow. "What? Anthony leaves and you no longer slap around your Agents?" Gibbs smirks, shaking his head at your choice of words. He turns and walks around you, giving you a squeeze of the hand, a simple, comforting gesture and continues to his desk. He knows your jokes were hiding your nerves and second thoughts about coming to DC. He knew everything after all.  

"Sorry, Bishop and Torres this is Agent Y/n." Tim introduces you to the new members of Team Gibbs, you shake their hands.

"Nice to meet you both." You smile but introductions are cut short.

"Whadda we got?" He grunts and you look at McGee who gives you a sorry look with a small shrug and turns back to his boss. The team gathers around the old plasma and start rattling off updates on their current case. Pleasantries now over long forgotten and back to work.  

"Guess that's our queue." Vance turns towards the stairs, offering a hand in the direction, you pick up your bag and take the lead towards the stairs to his office. "How's your sea legs?"

You almost miss a step when he asks and you smile, it wasn't until you thought about it that you noticed the slight sway of the earth. It had only been 24 hours since leaving the ship and flying to DC. The ground wasn't steady just yet and it annoyed you. You were about to reply when a woman comes bursting out of MTAC that has you dead in your tracks. The shock on your face, the horror you were feeling was clear as day on your face.  

"Leon, there you are, I-" Jack Sloane was flustered, she hadn't seen you, looking down at her notes and then she looked up. This second time she definitely saw you. That woman, the love of your life, that was none other than Jacqueline Sloane and why the fuck was Sloane in DC?! There was no way she was standing in front of you right now with Leon standing next to you. You grip your duffel for dear life, your knuckles turning white.

You are stone, the last person you expected to bump into today or any day while you are in DC is Sloane. She swore she'd never set foot in DC, or at least for more than 24 hours ever again. Yet, here she was. All the memories from that night five years ago, the heart you broke (hers and yours), the best moments of your life prior and the sad moments leading up to your assignment. Jack's face and body was as stone as yours was. You knew she use to be good at hiding her emotions from the world but clearly the shock for her was as mind altering as it was for you.

Leon coughed but neither of you took your eyes of each other. "Jack.. I'm assuming you two know each other." Vance looks back and forth between you both, stating the obvious to draw someone out of this trance but neither of you commented or moved for that matter. He was confused, shifting his stance from one foot to the other, brows furrowed at his two Agents just looking at each other with bewilderment, resentment and he didn't want to think what else. He doesn't know about your history, no one at NCIS, DC would. It happened in San Diego and for the six blissful months you were together, it wasn't shared in the work place. "I'm just going to brief Agent Y/N and I can meet you in your office after?" Jack's eyes snap to his at the mention of your name, as if she couldn't look at you and hear your name at the same time.

"Sure, I'll go down and brief Gi- Agent Gibbs then be in my office when you're ready." Her eyes are trained on Leon but you can tell she's struggling against herself to not look back at you. Also that shes holding her notepad to her chest, her knuckles going white. You look down to the bullpen to try and calm yourself but you lock eyes with Gibbs and his team who instantly look away as soon as you do. Well, now the gossip with start, you have no doubt.

You see Gibbs eyes flick to Jack and then back to yours with a confused furrow on his brow. Something new for him to figure out. If you didn't know him as well as you did, you wouldn't see the curiosity and concern in his gaze as he looked at Jack. Your mind ticks over, something to think about over and over again later. Jack walks past you both, not giving you a second look before descending the stairs. You can't help but notice the way Gibbs watches her and even seems somewhat happier to have her within his presence

"You ready Y/N?" Leon's watching you and your eyes snap back to him before you nod following him into his office. You can't get the look on Gibbs face out of your head. You try to shake it internally.

"So Agent Sloane, came back to DC?" You couldn't help bringing it up, even hoping to get some information from Leon but her name coming across your tongue hurts, the heart break ripping back open as the name crossed your lips, those years of solitude helping to stitch your heart back together undone in a matter of seconds. You hadn't spoken her name in so long, hadn't thought about her in just as long because by some miracle you'd buried it deep and locked that part of you away.

"Yes, she moved over a few years ago. Another person I had to almost beg to come back to DC." He sits behind his desk and you drop your bag by the door and slump into the chair opposite him. "You know each other?"

"Worked together for a while in San Diego." It's the truth, but it's not the truth he wants to know and you're shocked. The Director searching for personal information. "And that's all I'm saying." He nods with that, accepting your information and knowing there's so much more. He'd probably already guessed just how close you were.

The next half hour was spent discussing your years afloat, filling out a few forms and discussing your new team. It consisted of three Agents including yourself. You'd worked with one before but the other was a probie. Just finished her training, been in the field a handful of times and Vance saw great potential. He'd sorted through a few Agents but though this combo would work well together. Of course you'd be the final decision maker once everyone was in DC.

"That's it. Thought I'd just get you in to go through these forms, catch up and get down to business tomorrow. Jack wants to see me so I have to cut this short but feel free to walk around. Think your desk/ area will be good to go tomorrow. Also.." He picks up a bag from behind his desk. "You always did like working out." You laugh as you grab the bag and look inside. "We got a new look." He smiles watching you unpack your new training gear.

"Still the grey and dark navy blue." There’s a new dark blue cap with NCIS in big bold letters across the front and smaller lettering across the back. Another two pairs of track pants and matching sweaters along with two relaxed tees. "Best welcome home gift." You smirk and reach down to place them in your duffel. "I have a meeting with my landlord in an hour so I think I might grab a quick shower and then head out."

"Absolutely. You know where the gym is." Vance smiles and stands up, walking over to the door.

"Do you Director?" You smirk and he just rolls his eyes. "Up for a round or two?" You say picking up your bag.

"Maybe." A small smile forming as he opens his door. "Enjoy your day Agent. I'll see you at 0800 to meet with your new Probationary Agent."

Thankfully the bullpen was vacant when you came back out. Team Gibbs must've caught a lead and left. Jack was no where to be seen and you made a note to find out where her office was and avoid it at all costs. Something you didn't need to deal with amongst all the paperwork heading your way and assembling your new team.

The rest of the day was a success, you managed to take a quick, refreshing shower in the bathrooms down in the gym and head off to look at your new apartment. It was small, one bedroom was all you needed. You liked small, your life for the past few years was kept within four walls so you were use to tight spaces. It was a short distance to work which is what you were mainly looking for. The landlord said it was a good building, friendly neighbours and they got together a Christmas time for a party. It seemed cute and you might join in but for now you just wanted to get into your new place and make it your own.

. . . . . 

Something different. Let the angst begin. 

[meat-husband]

Do you think you'd write a part two to that yandere!vincent piece you wrote? :0 I haven't stopped thinking about it, it was soo good!

Well, this is like the third or fourth one now lol but here’s a lil origin story for how reader came to be in the basement.

I am boo boo the fool and completely forgot to q this, so it’s a day late lol

-

The shop you worked at was dirty, a grimey place that stayed open 24/7 to cater to the main clientele, the long haul truckers that came in off the interstate. It provided quick food and as many cups of coffee as you could drink, so long as you didn’t mind the rundown environment, but it wasn’t the kind of place that anyone expected five star meals from.

Opposite to most places, the peak hours were almost exclusively late at night, when most drivers needed to stop off for something to keep them going overnight. The daytime shift was slow, a trickle of people that dried up into nothing as the afternoon went on, with only the occasional customer. The food you sold was all premade convenience store fare, hotdogs and chicken left in a spinning rotisserie until someone was desperate enough to buy one, so you usually spent the downtime reading, tucked into a chair behind the counter. You barely looked up when the bell rang, signaling the arrival of another customer. In any other store it might have been rude not to offer some sort of hello, but the people that came through here were blunt and rough edged, getting in and out with little to no small talk.

“Hey, there.”

You drop your book, standing to ring up whatever has been laid on the counter, but you find it empty. You look up, meeting the eyes of the man across from you, but he has nothing in his hands and judging by the way he approached the counter, he wasn’t interested in looking around.

“Smokes?” You ask, already turning to flip open the display case.

“No, thanks,” he replies with an easy smile, leaning an elbow on the counter between you. “Not lookin’ to buy anything today.”

You frown at him. He was handsome, dark hair and sharp brown eyes, and the twitch of his lips as you looked him over told you that he knew it. His clothes were plain and worn, dirty from work, and he didn’t necessarily look out of place, but he didn’t look like a trucker either.

“Well, this is a store,” you tell him, sliding the display door closed. “If you’re not gonna buy anything, ain’t no point comin’ in.”

That gets a laugh out of him, smile widening, but his good humor only irritates you. You might not have been busy, but that wasn’t an invitation for him to come wandering around looking for conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and it sounded genuine, tamping down his amused tone to something more charming. “I don’t mean to bother you, I just came in because of my brother.”

He gestures vaguely over his shoulder and you lean to the side to look out the dingy window. The parking lot is big, a shared space with the weigh station next door. A few trailers are parked across the way, but the spots closest to your shop are empty, except for one. A beat up old thing, streaked with mud and trailing a bumper that was tenuously held in place, stood a few rows back. Someone may have been in the cab of the old truck, but it was too far away to see.

You turn your eyes back to the man in front of you, frowning again. “Okay, then what’s he want? You said you weren’t buying anything.”

“Well, we’ve been by a few times before. Just stopping in from time to time, you know.”

You supposed this might be true, even though you don’t recognize him, but there weren’t really any regulars out here, so you didn’t bother to remember names or faces. He stops to give you a look that you think is supposed to be charming, but you’re at the edge of your patience already. He’s not spending money, so you’re not getting paid to stand here and listen while he tries to talk you up.

“My brother, now, he’s pretty shy -”

Here we go, you think, crossing your arms and glaring. Of course it’s all an elaborate set up, probably to ask for your number. It’s not the worst excuse you’ve heard, and it’s a good deal more polite than you’re used to, but there’s no way you’re sending this guy away with anything but a firm no.

“- so he didn’t want to come in himself, but he’s got quite a crush on you, and -”

“No.”

He stops, tilting his head to the side and looking at you with a confused smile that borders on annoyed. “‘No’ what?”

“You can’t have my number, or know when my shift ends, and I don’t want your number - or your ‘brother’s’.”

The smile slides from his face, straight into a nasty glare, face twisting with anger. It makes you pause for a moment, a trickle of fear running through the back of your mind, but there is a little bit of satisfaction at seeing the arrogant look wiped off his face.

He stands up, taking his elbow off the counter.

“Alright, fine.” He spits the words at you, turning back towards the door.

You watch him stalk away, a little bit of relief flooding you, but it doesn’t last for long. Halfway to the door, he stops, raising both hands as if in surrender, and slowly turns back to face you. He gives you a forced smile, taking a few steps towards the counter.

“Alright, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” he starts, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Why don’t we start over, huh?”

“Sure.” Your voice is sour, arms crossed over your chest and eyes glaring, but he continues despite your obvious frustration.

“My name is Bo,” he says, putting obvious effort into keeping his tone friendly. “Nice to meet you.”

You bite out your first name in return, quick and short, hoping to get this over with and send the creep on his way. His forced smile doesn’t waver, plastered over his face like a mask.

“Now, like I was saying, my brother is a little shy,” Bo repeats, his demeanor slowly becoming more calm as he speaks. “But I noticed Vincent makin’ eyes at you whenever we came by, so I thought I’d come in and put in a good word for him.”

You stare at him for a moment, letting the silence linger between you to make sure that he’s done with his pitch. Bo returns your stare, tensed shoulders betraying the irritation that lurked under the friendly veneer he had put up.

“Alright. Good word duly noted,” you reply, voice even. “That all?”

He stares at you, face slack with confusion at first, but you see the spark of anger light up his eyes when your words finally hit him. When he turns around, throwing the shop door open on his way out, it’s not the reaction you had expected. It was an abrupt end to the unpleasant conversation, but you couldn’t say that you weren’t happy to finally have the man out of the store.

-

Working the morning shift means you’re not out of the store until late afternoon, the cool fall sky already going dark, and by then all thoughts of the encounter were out of your mind. You hadn’t been fortunate enough to snag a ride home, so no car waits for you in the parking lot, and the walk home is the only thing you’re thinking of when you leave. It wasn’t a dangerous area, exactly, but a cheap convenience store just off the interstate wasn’t a good place to be caught off guard, either.

The parking lot exits onto a small paved road, more of an alley that branches off from the main street. On the far side there is a larger path closer to the interstate, usually lined with parked trailers, and the weigh station in the distance is the only source of light once you leave the first row of spots outside the shop. You head towards the little road, eyes on the ground as you walk the familiar path, and you wouldn’t have noticed him at all if it weren’t for the sudden spark of headlights ahead of you.

An old truck is parked at the edge of the lot, lurking in the darkness just outside the exit onto the road. The engine rumbles loudly when it’s started, headlights burning white in the shadows and your attention is immediately pulled towards it. The door jerks open, a figure leaning half out of the truck, and you frown when you recognize who it is.

You need to walk past the vehicle to get to the road, so you firmly plant your eyes on the ground, hoping to slide around it and stay out of the headlights. Even if he does spot you, you reason, the jacket and hood you’ve slung over your work clothes might be enough to keep him from recognizing you.

The truck is leaking exhaust and your eyes water as you approach, raising a hand to rub at them. Your gaze leaves the ground for only a moment, but they land on the figure now coming around the front of the truck. He lifts a hand in greeting and you huff, annoyed to see that he had, indeed, noticed you. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as you pass, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. Had he been waiting for you? It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he was lingering outside as you left, but you didn’t recall seeing him after that morning.

“Hey!”

The sudden shout startles you and, against your better judgement, you look up at him in surprise. There is a smile on his face, friendly and charming, just as he had been when he had introduced himself.

You give him a half nod, feeling awkward that your attempt to ignore him hadn’t worked out, and turn to leave, picking up the pace as you walk away. The feeling of eyes on your back makes your skin crawl, but you don’t turn around.

Footsteps, loud and fast, follow you along the cracked pavement. The sound makes your muscles tense, a spot on the back of your head tingling where you imagine his eyes are focused, and your heart beats faster the closer they get.

You turn at the last second, facing him with a scowl on your face.

“Are you following me?”

He smiles. It probably should make you scared, but through the adrenaline you’re just irritated, seeing the annoyingly smug look he’s fixing you with.

“Sorry, just tryin’ to get your attention,” he replies, stopping a few feet away and putting his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to apologize, you know, for earlier.”

You find your frustration with this man growing by the second. The brief encounter you had had this morning was hardly on your mind hours later, so you couldn’t see why he was so determined to not only bother you even more, but to keep bringing up his past rudeness.

“Yeah, alright,” you agree with a sigh, already starting to turn away. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, that’s kind of you,” he says, stepping to the side and keeping himself in front of you. “But I feel real bad about it, and I’d like to make it up to you.”

Your eyes narrow and you feel yourself go from irritated to pissed before he’s even finished saying the words. How persistent could one man be when you were very obviously not interested?

“Can you please fuck off?” You can see that the sudden venom in your voice catches him off guard. “How creepy is it to follow someone around a dark parking lot trying to hit on them after they’ve already said no?”

It takes him a moment to think up a reply, but you can see the outrage on his face.

“Hey,” he snaps back, all the friendliness gone from his voice and his face red from anger. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, I already told you it’s my brother -”

You cut him off with a mocking laugh, watching as his face reddened further. Maybe he was angry or maybe he was embarrassed at being called out, but you don’t want to spend anymore of your day talking to him.

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

The parking lot is big and dark, but somehow you feel safer walking into its shadows than trying to pass by the old truck parked next to the exit. You’ll take the long way around to avoid him, you decide, mentally mapping out your path. The median between the pavement and the road was uneven and overgrown, but you would risk slipping in the underbrush if it meant you could go in the opposite direction from him.

The familiar sound of footsteps, heavy, angry breathing and the metallic pop of a car door all reach your ears at once. You’re grabbed by the arm, too fast for you to even think of resisting, too fast for you to even turn and face the man behind you. He has you overwhelmed in a fraction of a second, taking control of your body’s movements and wrenching your arms behind your back with a practiced ease.

You cry out, a confused noise that you don’t mean to let out, trying to spin your head around far enough to see him over your shoulder. A rough shove forces your arm further into an awkward position, a sharp white pain seizing up your shoulder, but you can’t wiggle away.

“You should have been nice,” the man snarls into your ear, hot breath on the side of your face. “Would have turned out better for you that way.”

He sounds almost excited.

You hear him, but the words don’t sink in fully. The pain in your arm is too much to comprehend anything else, but your mind still recognizes the threat.

“Lot of fucking help you were!”

The words are shouted into your ear and you’re confused for a moment, before you realize that they weren’t directed at you. He turns and you’re forced to shuffle around in front of him, the pressure on your shoulder searing down your side.

The passenger door of the old truck has been thrown open, but you hardly have time to realize that before someone is in front of you. A large, cold hand is pressed to your face, palm against your cheek, fingers curling around the messy bits of hair that now stick to your sweaty face. You try to jerk back, but there’s nowhere to go with your arm still held in a vice grip behind you.

Your face is level with their chest, lanky black hair and a worn jacket all that you can see of them. The hand on your face cups your cheek in a too familiar way and you can sense that they are leaning over you, shoulders hunched to keep you blocked in.

“Hurry up and get ‘em in the truck, Vincent.” The other man hisses, pushing you forward and into the chest of the one in front of you.

The push jolts you forward, the arm behind you numb with pain. A cold, heavy spark of panic lands in your stomach. You do not want to get into that truck, but two sets of hands are forcing you towards it. With a gasp you suck in a quick breath, letting it out as a piercing scream. You twist between them, as much as you can with your arm locked in place. They’re startled for just a second, but it’s all the time you need.

You kick backwards with one foot, missing the first time but connecting with something on the next try, a harsh grunt of pain echoing in your ear. You can feel him buckle slightly, the grip on your arm going slack, the relief from the pressure building in your shoulder almost makes you dizzy. Hands grab at your clothing, trying to keep you under control, but you fight against their hold, letting out another breathless scream. Swaying on your feet, you lunge to the side, towards the dark, open expanse of pavement, knowing that all it would take is a few seconds to make it back into sight of the store.

When you find yourself on your back, blinking up at the sky and a worried, uncannily lifeless face hovering over you, it doesn’t register at first how you got there. Your vision spins and slowly a throbbing pain starts up in your head. The man above you pats your face, making low whines under his breath, and you weakly bat his hands away.

“All this fuckin’ trouble,” you hear the other man spit out, a deep anger in his voice. “I shoulda made you do this shit yourself, Vincent.”