#like everything is ready but last week i uploaded very early and that chapter got way less interaction than any previous ones so im guessing

[fruitybashir]

the joys of living timezones ahead and forgetting about it and then being surprised when there isnt an update🤡🤡

ahahahaha oh dont i know that feeling ........ well, i dont know what your plans for today are but the new chapter is gonna be uploaded in 2-3 hrs from now :D

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Misconduct Chapter 3

I really don't have a description for this chapter one. We finally get to see some of reader though.

For Tumblr Description Only: Turns out I didn’t add this last upload to tumblr but had it on ao3.

So notes for certain visuals, feel free to of course adjust to your liking:

*Y/N vehicle list *for now*: 1980’s Buick Grand National. All black, of course. Also dark tints, for sure (pls yes, perfect condition)

*Genesis’ vehicle *yanno he’s got some rich shit*: 2016 Rolls Royce, maroon and with seats to match. (I’ll get to the custom specifics later)

I have something special for Tseng but we don't see him around too much for a bit so I won't be adding here.

I guess POV’s will be changing. Makes it easier to write, dunno how to swap them smoothly. I’ll state when and who POV it changes to. Please lol, I don’t know how to address pov’s decently so work with me.

Reader pov: 

“We're short a package.” You state groggily, yawning as you read over the inventory list again. Moving the clipboard impossibly close to your face as you follow each line with your pen. It was 2am by now and your desire to go to bed was becoming greater than your need to nitpick through each shipment. Then again, it was your job to make sure everything was accounted for. Even being a single item off would raise a lot of questions, making your job far harder for yourself than it needed to be. The tasks were easy in your eyes and didn't require you to do much besides risk your livelihood on occasion. This was the third time the new shipment has been counted. Pulling the clipboard away from your face, glancing in the direction of the newcomer you were stuck with for the day. A frown taking over your features as you think back on your distaste when it comes to working with anyone. Everything goes so smooth when you’re alone, usually never having a complication.

You were certain it wasn’t your fault the numbers were off. Inwardly groaning as you walked over to him, “Hey, Paul. You can head out for the night. I’ll wrap this up, we’ve got most of the count complete anyways.” 

Paul, an average height, darker toned male with glasses, couldn’t have been any older than 18 you presumed. A patchy, scruffy beard lining his chin with a connecting mustache turns and gives you a worried look. His voice adds on to your overwhelming desire to get him out of this building. It was like the man wouldn’t even open his mouth when speaking, mumbling each word so low you could hardly hear him. Really you wanted to ask ‘what the fuck did you just say’, but you were doing your damndest to be nice. It wasn’t like you’d have to deal with the kid very often. “I won’t get paid if I leave now?” 

‘I’ll pay you myself if it gets you the hell away from me’ sighing as he goes back to rifling through each herbal bag. Your voice stops him from his actions.”Who’s going to know you left early? I truly don’t care, you’ve done enough today anyways and it’s late.” Adding a point in to further sway things to your liking, “It’s free money, why say no?” 

Considering your offer for a quick moment before asking with a hint of hope in his voice, “Are you sure?” 

Poor boy, he looked exhausted anyway. No doubt this sort of lifestyle is having an effect on him, wearing him down quickly. Too bad he’ll find out the hard way that once you’re a part of this scene, leaving without going in a body bag wasn’t very much guaranteed. 

“Don’t worry, if you’re working with me I’ll try to accommodate as much as possible.” Your words echoing in your mind were far more harsh, ready to restart the count so you can carry on with the inventory process and get back to the comfort of your bed. Truly it wasn’t entirely his fault you were in a sour mood, over the course of the week you’ve hardly had a moment to rest. Having the next day off should prove as a nice reward for being stuck with such a large shipment. 

Finally accepting your offer after a bit of persuading, Paul hands you the sheet of the count that he’s ‘completed’ up to this point. Glancing over the form as he retreats to grab his bag, watching him in the corner of your eye to make sure he doesn’t take anything on his way out. After he leaves you immediately disregard the form he gave to you, tucking it behind the sheet of paper you were filling out on your clipboard. That wouldn’t be of any use to you. 

Sighing as you look at the mess of little white pouches on the floor, each one with a unique four digit item number on the front in a large, bold Times New Roman font. The name of each herb underneath the item number along with a small description of its intended purpose, from sleep, focus, energy, etc. Sorting through Paul’s side of the inventory count would be troublesome. Leaving the items in an unorganized state, like items that were supposed to be placed together stuffed in random bins.  

After hours of reorganizing the packages by item number and weight you finally get the inventory count to match the shipment log, each herbal product being properly counted for. Not a single package is missing. Good, you can finally get out of here with what little sanity you have left. Storing them in the small warehouse, a series of tall silver wire shelves lining the walls, three lined up to create a few aisles. You neatly store each item in their labeled location. A look of relief crossing your face as you toss the last item in its designated place. 

God, you couldn’t be more excited to leave. Heading in the direction of the small office tucked in the far back corner of the warehouse, making sure to deposit the papers containing your count in the filing cabinet behind the small oak desk. You begin grabbing your belongings, stuffing your laptop into your backpack in a hurry before placing it on your back. Digging into the pockets of your black cargo pants for your keys as you make your way to the rear exit, locking the door behind you and giving it an extra tug to be sure the door was secure. 

Rolling your eyes as you get to your car, throwing your bag over the driver's side, landing into the passenger seat with a thud. ‘Fuck,’ you forgot to enter in the results on the spreadsheet. Knowing you have a bit of leeway in your place of work you decide you’ll worry about it later, it was something you could do from home anyway. Besides, it’s five in the morning and you haven’t achieved an ounce of shut eye in what felt like the last twenty-four hours. Plopping into your seat you start the car, the motor roaring to life. The sound of your straight piped exhaust making your car twice as loud as it should be. Something your neighbors often complained about in the past. After a few choice words caused them to quickly quiet themselves down. 

Pulling out of the parking lot and speeding your way through sector three. Lucky for you the streets weren’t too busy, a Saturday morning coupled with it being so early, working out in your favor so you could barrel your way through the streets to your home in sector two. Only slowing down through areas you knew were patrolled by Shinra squad cars and yielding for an innocent driver you nearly sideswiped in your half asleep stupor. Probably not the most ideal condition to drive around in. How else would you get home though?  

Finally making it to your subdivision. A large, wealthy area on the border of sector one and two. One of the few areas in Midgar where the houses were a decent distance apart, the houses having yards with perfectly cared for grass. Each house follows a similar structure, two and three story style homes, tan and gray brick homes. A few of them here and there are decorated with vinyl siding, matching the colors of the brick homes. Driving into the long, inclined driveway leading to the big detached garage of your own two story home. It wasn’t the biggest house in the neighborhood, but it was an upgrade from your upbringing in the slums. Fitted with massive picture windows on the bottom floor and a small portion of the top floor and arched windows on the top floor. Like the other homes the yard was well kept, bushes that were along the front of the house evenly trimmed. 

Parking outside of the garage proceeding to climb out of the car. Hardly remembering to grab your bag on the way out, you slam the door shut before following the walkway to the front door. The lack of sleep fully catches up to you causing you to drag your feet along the way, your fingers fumbling the keys as you unlock the door. There was only one thought in your head. ‘Sleep.’ Slowly making your way to the living room you can’t help but drop your bag on the floor besides the large white sectional. Your arms feel as though they aren't capable of performing any miniscule task. Not even bothering to take your boots off you sprawl out on the couch, dangling your feet off of the edge in an attempt to keep your shoes off of the fine fabric. Having no intentions on leaving for the duration of the day,you drift off to sleep in no time.

**Genesis+Tseng pov**

5am wasn’t early in Genesis’ world, not by any means. It still didn’t mean he was in a pleasant state of mind at this time. His mood quickly soured as another driver almost slams into him during his commute to safety training, the original source of his frustrations. 

Narrowing his eyes at the rogue driver as they attempt to give Genesis the right of way, coming close to already blowing his cover as he realizes he was conveniently coming face to face with you. ‘Speak of the devil and they shall appear right?’ Though he was driving ahead of you Genesis made sure to keep you within view, watching your car through the mirrors of his own. Fishing the PHS out of his pocket, Genesis calls the number saved for Tseng silently urging him to answer as he watches you in his rearview mirror. turn into a suburban area. 

Inwardly cursing as he watches you turn into a suburban area. He got lucky coming across you so quickly, by any means Genesis was going to trail you. He needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible. Genesis wasn’t a great driver, but he was a legal one. There was no wonder the wild u-turn he executed almost caused two other drivers to crash. That really wasn’t his problem, focused wholly on following you as requested of him three days prior. 

Ending the call and immediately dialing Tseng’s number again. Once more being met with voicemail, ‘What did he give me this for if he wasn’t going to answer it?!’ Genesis couldn’t help but think about how unprofessional it was of Tseng to not pick up. Keeping in mind that the lead Turk is a busy person. Yet, Genesis was not caring if he was or not. This is urgent. Though, wasn’t everything else Tseng dealt with? 

Tossing the PHS into the center console, Genesis tails your vehicle. Maybe he could’ve done this with far more tact, only being about two car lengths away from you while tracking you to your next location. Trailing closely behind as you take him through the winding roads of this subdivision. 

“Could’ve sworn Tseng said they were more attentive than this.” Genesis muttered under his breath as he parked in front of your neighbor's home. Scrutinizing you as he watched you walk to the door of your home and pull out a set of keys. ‘There’s no way they live here.’ Thinking back on your poor track record overall in life and lack of work history. Genesis can’t seem to think that someone like you would be living within a twenty minute radius of himself. Whatever you were doing was clearly paying off.

The sound of the PHS ringing, jarring Genesis out of his thoughts. Swiftly grabbing the device, answering and pressing the mobile device against his face. Genesis’ voice takes on the tone of a scolding father, similar to Angeal scolding Sephiroth and Genesis for their childish behavior. “Where were you when I called the first time? What am I to do when my assistant doesn’t answer his phone?” 

At first Tseng didn’t think much of Genesis’ words, expecting the sassy attitude out of the red haired man. Something about Genesis' words caught him off guard. Leaving an almost bitter taste in Tseng’s mouth at being referred to as his assistant. The realization of the little statement caused Tseng to stop his explanation. “I was in a meet- I don’t recall a time I’ve ever ranked low enough to be your assistant.” 

“Low enough?!” Genesis almost couldn’t believe his ears at Tseng’s insult. In reality he had no choice but to swallow his pride and accept the jab at his rank. It was no secret Tseng outranked many in Shinra due to his cushy little place at Rufus’ feet. Begrudgingly returning to the reason he called, “I found (y/n) on my way to training. Think I’ve found out where they live now. This isn’t the same place you have in your files, assuming they’ve moved recently.” 

In an attempt to make himself less obvious, Genesis sheds his coat before stepping out of his car. Only so much could be done while approaching a stranger's home this early in the morning. The bare minimum he could accommodate was not approaching your property while practically waving a flag that screams ‘look at me’. Be discreet right? He’s prepared for this, he thinks. Having acquired a few tools to help along the way from Scarlet the day after his meeting with Tseng. The door shut with a thud which didn’t go unnoticed by the darker haired male. 

“What are you doing?” Tseng’s voice had a skeptical tinge to it. He could practically hear Tseng rubbing his face in a stressed manner as he’s able to tell Genesis left his hidden spot to do who knows what. “Do not approach them at their home, we don’t know what you’re getting into yet.” 

“Already on it.” Genesis announced almost proudly, ignoring Tseng’s direct command as he marches up the driveway of your home. Having been waiting outside for the past fifteen minutes, he was almost sure you wouldn’t be coming out any time soon. Examining his surroundings as he approaches your car, finally noticing the cameras posted around the outside of your home. He made his way up here now. No point in tucking tail and running. Advancing towards your car while surveying the area, being mindful to be sure nobody was in near to spot him. 

“I asked what you’re doing. You can not make decisions on your own in this case. Is this not why you’re here now?” 

The reminder from Tseng did nothing to persuade Genesis from pulling the small stick on tracker out of his pocket. Situating himself on the ground, sliding under the side of your car just enough to secure it in place on the inner portion of your frame behind the driver’s side wheel. “I’m making a way to find them more efficiently.” Quickly rising to his feet, Genesis heads back to his own vehicle, sparing a few glances around on his way. Without hesitation Genesis settles himself back into his car and drives away.

“Tseng, what you should be doing is thanking me. There’s now a tracker attached to their car and it’s already synced to this PHS.” The help from Scarlet comes into play. The tracker was a tiny device, hidden well enough that it shouldn’t be noticed for quite some time, if at all. One thing Genesis wasn’t interested in was patrolling the city in a vain attempt to find a single person. As it stands it wasn’t unusual for Genesis to see you in the area, your way of driving and choice of such a loud set up would make you stand out and be memorable for anyone. He knew it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths again. The occurrence happening sooner than later was a complete stroke of luck on his part as his investigation to your last known address proved to be listed for sale.

Tseng had low faith that Genesis went completely undetected in his actions. However, he could admit that this was an advantage in two ways. One, having your location whenever you made a move. Two, knowing where you live. It was a slight surprise to Tseng that you may have moved once more, knowing you weren’t even at your last place of residence for a year. “Get back to HQ, I need the tracking information shared with me as well as their address. What time was your training?” 

Scoffing as Genesis navigated back to the Shinra building, his hope to miss safety training almost straining his very soul. “Six a.m, mind you, it’s a quarter to six now.” His silent prayer may be answered by the goddess above. With the amount of time it would take for him to arrive combined with exchanging information with Tseng there’s no way he would have to suffer through that for the day. 

“We can work around it, I can have it rescheduled for this afternoon's class.” 

Genesis was sure Tseng was getting a kick out of this. There was no mistaking the mirth in his voice as he made it known there were numerous time slots for these classes. ‘Since when did Shinra take safety seriously?’ This wouldn’t consist of anything but a couple of slideshows and materia introductions, so why was it so imperative that Genesis took these classes? 

“Yeah, sure whatever. I’m on my way.” Ending the call without bothering to see if Tseng had anything left to say. 

[illicitlimerence-writes]

close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

[dorminchu]

Insult to Injury: The Director's Cut — Chapter 01

Note: All right, it's been a hot minute since I uploaded anything substantial in regard to this fic. So I'm going to try something a bit risky! I've archived Insult to Injury as you all know it, with the exception of a few errant reblogs outside of my control. But that's neither here nor there; I am very excited to present to all of you all the definitive version of this fic — the Director's Cut, if you will. ;)

Fandom: James Bond Characters: Madeleine Swann, Lyutsifer Safin, various OC(s) Relationships: Madeleine & OC(s) Warnings: Strong language, intense scenes of violence, general cynicism. Rating: M Genre: Crime/Drama Summary: A troubled psychologist desperate to escape her past criminal ties finds herself drawn into a far more insidious schism. [Post-Skyfall]

[Ao3 | FFNet]

— ACT I —

“Everything which is done in the present, affects the future by consequence, and the past by redemption.” — Paulo Coelho

— Episode I: A THOUSAND DETAILS —

In the sterile comfort of her office, Dr Madeleine Swann stared blankly at her computer monitor. The notification that her application as a psychologist consultant with the Médecins Sans Frontières had been sent six days prior blurred with lack of focus. The location of the mission in question was Conakry, Guinea. Her contract duration would last from the start of May to the end of August; just shy of two months away from now. There was an additional caveat:

All non-ECOWAS foreigners are required to have a valid Guinean visa and a vaccination card in order to be granted entry. Yellow fever vaccination cards are verified upon entry into the country at Gbessia.

Approval for the visa necessitated a seventy-two-hour window of clearance. And it would be at least four weeks until she heard back from the Human Resources Office—up to six if she were unlucky. She sat erect and the movement alone was enough to incite a sharp stab of pain into the back of her head. Through the window the sun cast a reddish glare, obfuscating the monitor and warming the nape of her neck. She shoved her face into the heels of her palms while the pressure in her skull abated to a dull throbbing.

Usually she made a habit of drawing the blinds. There were already enough odd complaints about her office being too cold and sterile passed along by the secretary. It had been a stressful enough week that Madeleine saw no reason to keep the shutters closed, so her clients might have something else to focus on besides four polished wooden walls and the analog clock.

What came off to most outsiders as a cool and direct manner of conduct was simply pragmatism. She had a laptop computer used primarily for sending emails. She recorded the bulk of her notes on patients by-hand and revised by means of portable recorder. She kept no photographs in her home nor office. The casual anecdotes she provided to her colleagues were ostensibly as droll as her taste in décor; though her efforts to blend in had largely gone unappreciated.

There wasn’t anything else immediate to review for tonight. She wished a curt good-night to the secretary before donning her coat and exiting into the crisp evening air.

⁂

It was only a fifteen-minute walk from the clinic to the flat. Above her head the clouds hung grey and pregnant with snow. By the time she had ascended the staircase and opened the door to her apartment her fingers prickled. Numbness seeped into her skin. She’d never much cared for the colder seasons.

“You’re back early,” said Arnaud—a fellow Sociology major from her college days. After graduating from Oxford, Madeleine had taken his offer to return to Paris and transfer over to the 8tharrondissement with the understanding that they would be rooming together. Her colleagues back then often referred to them as friends-with-benefits as Madeleine had showed little interest in dating before. After three years of cohabitation, her co-workers at the office wondered how she and Arnaud remained so cordial while balancing their careers and relationship.

“Yes.” Madeleine hung up her coat, noting that he had not yet changed out of his own. “I submitted my request with the MSF a week ago. If I am accepted I’ll be working as a psychologist consultant. In that case, I’ll be out of the country until August at least.”

“Well, you’ve never landed a position that didn’t suit you.” Madeleine smiled politely. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks.” She looked away from him towards the window. “You could open the blinds. It's very bright in here with the lights on.”

“There’s hardly much to look at when the sun is in your eyes. Isn’t that what you say?”

For the most part, Arnaud was easy to live with. Neither of them required financial support and he was of equitable social standing. Her relentless volunteer work did not always lend much time to get to know his inner mind. “It’s late. Are you going out again?”

“No, I got back first. And it’s fortunate. You looked awfully cold when you came in.”

“I can hardly control the weather. And you needn’t worry, I always carry a key on me.”

“Madeleine, we live together. It wouldn’t be right to avoid you. But you know, if I were going out to an unscrupulous club it would make for a pretty good story.”

“Hm.”

“And knowing you,” Arnaud continued, “you probably won’t be going out drinking. The sunrise disturbs you in the mornings, and you woke up before I did, at seven. I assume you’ve been busy all day. In just a few weeks you’ll be working that much harder. You ought to get some rest while you can.”

“So,” a little cooler, “you’ll be another mission?”

“Most likely.”

“All these countries must seem the same after a while.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. When was the last time you volunteered out of the country? 2011?”

Arnaud laughed. “Jesus, this isn’t a competition.”

“But it’ll give you something to talk about to your friends while I am away.”

Arnaud said nothing. Madeleine frowned. She went into the other room and began to change. He could not approach her in the same casual manner as his peers, nor dissect her outright. His life was one of prestige as well as privilege, and Madeleine could not foster any underlying resentment towards him for acting in his nature. The silence held, strained. Then Arnaud said:

“It’s always been important to you. That’s what should matter.”

⁂

In two weeks’ time she got a response from the HRO; the initial interview was scheduled shortly thereafter. By the middle of April she was making preparations to depart. Thanks to Arnaud’s tactic of avoidance she had little reason to tell him the details. No one would know where she was headed unless they broke inside her laptop and hunted through her mail. The situation in Guinea had kicked into mainstream awareness back in February for a week or so before gradually sinking back into obscurity.

Reports from several news outlets cited the emergence of an outbreak primarily affecting South Africa. Originating inland, a mysterious illness that revealed itself first with fever and spells of vomiting, then gradually ate away at the flesh of those afflicted and bore their bones and muscle, vulnerable to further rot. More emboldened journalists had taken to calling it the Red Death on account of this. Neither a cure nor a place or origin had been discovered.

The situation had not improved in the last two months so much as stabilised. Madeleine had been assured several times over email and electronic conference that those working in the field had already taken precautions, and she’d be instructed further on what to do upon her arrival. She was issued a few pamphlets and strongly advised to vaccinate before boarding the flight. Which she had done, but it was very kind of them to remind her.

In spite of Arnaud’s apparent disinterest, his last words to her before she departed had been: “Last year it was four missions. I'd never seen you so tired. I wish I knew what you’re trying to prove.”

After managing to get some sleep on the plane she touched down Conakry International Airport around mid-morning and contacted the Project Coordinator; a shorter man in his mid-forties with a photogenic smile and toupee. He clasped her hand in both of his clammy ones and said: “Very glad you've made it, Doctor. We need you on-site in twenty minutes. Make sure you are ready.” Her luggage was dropped off on the second floor of the Grand Hotel de L’independence, where she and the other MSF members would be rooming. The staff were polite enough, though their attention was fixed on the Project Coordinator.

Her room was spare and a little dingy, and the only means of fresh air came from opening the window and polluting the room with outside noise, but it was at least reasonably clean. A fine sheen of sweat was building on her skin. No reason to delay the inevitable.

Upon reaching Donka Hospital she met up with the rest of the team, most notably the Medical Coordinator, and the Psychosocial Unit. It soon became apparent that there were still not enough medical doctors to handle the influx of infected. An isolation ward had been established before the MSF’s involvement, but they were reportedly at full capacity; the workers in there were clad in full-body personal protective equipment. Another section of the grounds had been set aside and fenced off; rows of tents all lined up, reminding Madeleine distantly of a prisoner’s accommodations. No matter where you went the stench of rot always seemed to hang pervasively in the air.

She was paired off with another psychologist by the name of John Herrmann; American, around her age. He was of a friendlier disposition than she was used to, introducing her semi-formally to the rest of the group before adding:

“So, one thing you should know now, we’ve been having problems with the electricity on site as well as the hotel. There’s no running water either.”

“This isn’t my first mission with MSF. And I lived out in the countryside when I was small. I know how to look after myself.”

Herrmann smiled. “That’s fair.” He scratched his neck. “The mosquitoes are worse. Bug nets won’t help worth a damn. Make sure you close your windows at night, I had to learn that the hard way.”

“I see.” The humidity combined with the smell off-road were already becoming intolerable. But she did not want to appear so snobbish or weak in front of someone she would be monitoring for the next three months. “I won’t go any easier on you just because you are unaccustomed to the environment.”

 “See ,that’s the kind of attitude we need around here!” He clapped a hand on her back; Madeleine regarded him levelly until he relented. “Good to have you on the team.”

The other members on the Psychosocial Unit were as amicable with Madeleine as the situation permitted. None of them got on her nerves as much as Herrmann. His enthusiasm was never to the point of seeming false or obsequious, but he remained just enough of a go-getter to piss her off. After a week of monitoring them she came away with the impression that Herrmann was genuine. He had been consistently genial with the clientele and hospital staff alike, no matter the severity of their condition. She saw no reason to socialise with him outright. The most he ever noted about her mood was: “You’re pretty reticent for a psychologist consultant.”

“I’m here to do my job. That’s all.”

Herrmann shrugged. “I can respect that. We all deal with the situation in our own ways.” He paused. “I can see why the Project Coordinator wanted you. You’re handling this situation a lot better than I would have.”

“Thank you.”

“The workload must be insane compared to what you’re normally used to. I know it took me time to adjust—" he stopped as Madeleine threw him a look of confusion “—what is it?”

“Back home, I am usually referred to as what one would call a workaholic. Or didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Oh, hey, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No offence taken.”

The higher temperature was not so bad as the humidity that slapped her in the face whenever stepping outside—according to the forecasts, it was only going to get worse within the coming months. There was no manner of ventilation or air-conditioning in the hotel so often times she had to draw the curtains and keep her hair back. She resigned herself by reminding herself that it was better than sleeping in a tent.

There wasn’t much time to be hung-up on much else besides her assignment. The members of the Psychosocial Unit all looked good on paper, but they betrayed their inexperience through a shared level of idealism towards the mission that Madeleine deemed ill-fated. She did not blame them. Young, perhaps fresh out of school, looking to make a difference in the world without truly anticipating the gravity of the situation. Their time spent observing the crises of the rest of the world through the lens of journalism and outside empathy could not compare with the experience of actually sitting down and listening to the stuff their patients talked of with prosaic seriousness.

It often sounded outrageous when Madeleine played back the recordings, taking down notes in the quiet, stuffy hotel room. Mortality was an expected outcome, and the implication of negligence by their government a common topic of discussion among patients. Most conversations were conducted in French or else by way of an interpreter, though the antagonism in the voices of these patients needed no translation.

There was a growing disparity between the narrative put into circulation by the news and what was happening in the field. According to several members of the MSF and the staff at Donka, the media blew the problem out of proportion. The people whose condition had kicked off the “Red Death” story had been subjected to long-term exposure. Most of the patients that came through were not in that same condition, but it created an illusion of immediacy that incited concern in the public eye and a need for donations. Government officials wanted to cover up the severity of the situation as not to detract from any potential business opportunities; until the MSF got involved, they were only employing the most rudimentary of safety procedures.

This latter revelation had shaken up the Psychosocial Unit considerably; Dr Herrmann had lost his patience with the Medical Coordinator. To this end, he’d apologised profusely to Madeleine afterwards though she would hear none of it. Whatever he felt about the situation was not necessarily invalid, but out of consideration for their patients, he would not bring it up again.

Herrmann never held it against her. So Madeleine busied herself in her own work. Whatever quiet camaraderie forged between the other MSF members was not her business. When pressed for advice, she would talk calmly, carefully with the rest of the team about what would be optimal but never overreach. In the sweltering nights and throughout the early morning, Madeleine would pore over her notes, listening to the passing automobiles and indistinct conversation carried over by civilians.

⁂

June crawled by. Currently the MSF were in the process of dealing with a new influx of internally displaced persons (IDPs) from the surrounding prefectures and villages, all of whom had to be tested and separated from those not stricken with disease. Thanks to the cooperation with the local civilians and tireless efforts on part of the medical staff and Medical Unit, there had been a forty-five-percent decrease in fatalities compared to the start of the year.

The atmosphere within the hospital was not improving. The topic of insurgence was the new favourite with patients. Allegedly there had been several attacks on neighbouring villages; a consequence of the lack of tangible progress coupled with deep-seated mistrust of government officials. Now the Force Sécurité/Protection, or FSP, had been brought on in collaboration with an additional Protective Services Detail (PSD) by the name of Kerberos, to ensure the hospital and surrounding property remained untouched.

Their Project Coordinator called them all in for the sake of reviewing protocol in the event of an attack. Outright criticism of the government’s method in handling the situation was discouraged. Madeleine was savvy enough to keep herself abreast of any controversy. For the rest of the Psychosocial Unit, she presumed they were either too naïve or willing to look the other way.

The only exception to this was the Vaccines Medical Advisor, Francis Kessler; a stoic older man with thinning hair and glasses. He and Madeleine had cooperated a handful of times beforehand, at the discreet behest of the Medical Coordinator. Madeleine had found nothing wrong with his conduct. A diligent worker, he acknowledged her judgement fairly but did not overextend his gratitude. Outside of his work he was straight-laced and reserved and wouldn’t be seen socialising with any of the younger MSF who all talked about him as though he were some out-of-touch stick-in-the-mud. As the situation in the hospital became more dire he would stay behind on-site, late into the evening. Whenever they had a break, he would disappear on calls. Once he came back late by only a few minutes and apologised to Madeleine.

“I was supposed to be sent home last month, but with the situation being what it is, I decided to stay on until things are resolved.” He did not sit down, his attention turned towards the path back to the infected ward. “It’s madness. We’ve already waited until things are too severe to think of bringing in a proper security detail—who the hell does the Project Coordinator think we’re fooling?” Madeleine ignored him. “Dr Swann. The Medical Coordinator tells me you’ve been involved in volunteer work for a while.”

“Five years, as of March.”

“Perhaps they would be more willing to listen to someone with your expertise.”

“I’m flattered. But it’s fortunate that I was not selected for my personal opinion.”

Kessler chuckled. “You’ll go far.”

Madeleine had no interest in pursuing this topic any further. “Who were you speaking to?” He froze up, didn’t answer immediately. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have been so blunt. But you leave often enough on calls, and it appears to be taking a toll on you.”

Comprehension dawned on his face, his shoulders relaxed. “Just my wife. This past month has been no easier on her. But I find that it can help somewhat, just talking to someone outside of this element.” Madeleine nodded stoically. “I’ve never seen you contact anyone outside of your unit.” Madeleine did not anticipate the conversation to take such a turn, nor did she wish to divulge much about herself. But she could not deflect as she could in the clinic back home, and Kessler seemed forthright enough to warrant a harmless response.

“I’m living with a friend. We graduated from college together.”

“And you keep in touch while you are abroad?”

“He tends to lead his own life while I am away.”

“That’s a great deal to ask of someone.” Madeleine inclined her head in his direction. This was not a man that emoted often; now the thin mouth was set, and the eyes behind the glasses disillusioned. “Few women your age would devote themselves to a thankless vocation as this. Not everyone is going to want to stick around until you decide you want to settle down.”

Madeleine’s smile did not touch her eyes. She hadn’t even mentioned the nature of her relationship to Arnaud. “We have an understanding, that’s all. Besides, I don’t bother him about his social life.”

Kessler shook his head. In a few minutes they were back to work as usual. By the end of the day, Madeleine resolved to let him dig his own social grave without further interference.

By the time July rolled around Madeleine found her mind snagging easily on technicalities. She became less tolerant of the Psychological Unit’s personal hang-ups with the lack of resources and lack of any obvious moral closure. Smell of rot and disinfectant permeated into her clothing and hair until she had begun to associate the smell itself with a total lack of progress.

She left the window to her hotel room cracked most nights, afraid to open it completely. Alone with her own mind and the recorder. The conversations now circled back readily to death and terrorism. An overwhelming fear of retaliation from looming insurrection.

Madeleine stopped the recording. She checked the time and cursed under her breath. Just past one in the morning. In six hours she would return to Donka Hospital and repeat the process. A month and a half from now she would be on a flight back to Paris. Her mind wouldn't settle on either direction.

Outside her window she heard the distant voice of Francis Kessler. He was conversing in German, from a few storeys down, but as Madeleine came over to the window she understood him clearly:

“…I’ve been saying it for weeks, and they dismiss me every time. These wounds are the result of prolonged exposure from chemicals. We’ve seen evidence of IDPs coming through, exhibiting the same symptoms as the PMCs we treated back in February. How we can expect to make any progress if the Project Coordinator refuses to bring this up? We’re putting God-knows how many lives at risk waiting for a vaccine that we don’t know if we need—and even so, it won’t be ready for another week. There’s not enough time to justify keeping silent….”

Madeleine closed the window carefully. She’d never been one to intrude on family matters.

⁂

When Madeleine exited her room the next morning, she found the Project Coordinator waiting for her in the hallway, along with the head of security from Kerberos and a couple Donka Hospital staff Madeleine knew by sight but not intimately.

The vaccines had arrived earlier than anticipated, around three or four in the morning. Several members of the Medical Unit had stayed on-site in order to determine if all had been accounted for and subsequently realised it was rigged. Thanks to the intervention of Kerberos the losses were minimal. Several doctors had suffered chemical exposure and were currently isolated from the rest of the IDPs to receive immediate medical attention. Others, such as Drs Kessler and Herrmann, had been less fortunate.

Now there was additional pressure from the hospital doctors and Logistics Team to begin moving the high-risk patients to a safer area. The fear that this story would circulate and any chance of obtaining vaccines would be discouraged could not be ruled out. So they would not be reporting this as a chemical attack, but as a failed interception of an attack by local terrorists, stopped by the FSPs.

“Dr Swann.” The head of security, Lucifer Safin, gave Madeleine pause. His accent would presume a Czech or Russian background but his complexion and eye colour invited room for ambiguity. The MSF on staff commonly referred to him by surname; perhaps Lucifer was simply an alias. What set him apart was his face. Gruesomely scarred from his right temple to the base of his left jaw, though the structure of his eyes and nose remained intact. In spite of the weather, Madeleine had never seen him without gloves. “I understand that you were one of the last to speak with Dr Kessler?”

His manner wasn’t explicitly taciturn, more akin to the disconcerting silence one might experience while looking into a body of still-water—met only with your reflection.

“Yes,” said Madeleine, “but that was nearly five days ago.”

“You were instructed to monitor him during that period by the Medical Coordinator?”

 “That’s correct.”

Safin glanced at the Project Coordinator. “I’ll speak with her alone.”

“Of course.”

Safin nodded. They walked down the length of the hall back to her room. His gait was purposeful and direct. He had a rifle strapped to his side. Madeleine tried to avoid concentrating on it. Her attention went to the window. She'd forgotten to lock it.

“Dr Swann.” The early morning light put his disfigurement into a new, unsettling clarity. Too intricate to be leprosy or a typical burn wound, it was more as if his very face were made of porcelain and had suffered a nasty blow, then glued together again. “What was the extent of your relationship to Dr Kessler?”

“I did not work with him often. We talked once or twice but that was all. I have my own responsibilities with the Psychosocial Unit. From what I could tell, he never made an effort to befriend anyone.”

“But you were asked to monitor Dr Kessler.”

“I was requested to do so on behalf of the Medical Coordinator. There were concerns that Dr Kessler was somehow unqualified to continue his work. In observing him, I had no reason to suspect he was unfit for the position psychologically.” Safin said nothing. “The only issue I could see worth disqualifying him for, was that Kessler and the Project Coordinator had very differing views on protocol.”

“He spoke to you about his views?”

“He expressed to me once, in confidence, that he did not understand the Project Coordinator’s hesitance to bring in a security detail.” Safin’s attention on her became sharper. “He also told me he’d elected to continue volunteering here past his contract duration, just to ensure the operation was successful. That was my only conversation with him outside of a work-related context. You would be better off asking the other doctors about this.”

“We have video surveillance in place on the Grand Hotel de L’independence. At around one in the morning, Dr Kessler exited the building and contacted an unknown party by mobile phone. Then, a minute later, you were at your window.”

“Oh, yes. I have been forgetting to close it. With so many longer days, it can be difficult to remember these things.”

“Your room was the only one to show signs of activity at that hour.”

“I was reviewing my notes from that day’s session. I heard a voice from outside, though not clearly. It was distracting me from my work, so I got up and closed the window.”

“Do you commonly review your notes in the early hours of the morning with an unlocked window?”

“I just wanted some quiet. I leave the windows open because otherwise I seem to find myself trapped with the smell of rotting flesh as well as humidity.”

Safin’s expression became easier to read, but not in a positive sense. This was not a man you wanted to be on opposing sides with. Madeleine kept any apprehension away from her face and her voice tightly controlled.

“Look. Without information about Dr Kessler’s lifestyle outside of the MSF, I cannot give you an answer in good faith. I was assigned to survey him. He showed no signs of dereliction in his work, and to my knowledge kept his personal views separate from his work. Whatever he said to me during outside hours was assumed to be in confidence. Many people say things to one another in what they believe to be confidence that they would not admit to otherwise. If I had reason to suspect he was unfit to work, I would have contacted the Medical Advisor immediately.”

Safin held her gaze. She did not dare avert her face. Then he said: “Thank you for your cooperation. The Project Coordinator is waiting for you downstairs.”

The rest of the day she spent in a different wing of the hospital. The Psychosocial Unit was cut down from four members to three. Another inconsequential day of thankless work that never seemed quite good enough. That night Madeleine laid back on her bed and watched the shadows on the ceiling stretch over peeling paint until daybreak.

When she’d arrived at the airport she could stave off her doubts with shallow, private reassurances. As long as you are here, you are just Dr Swann the psychologist consultant. Your father is many miles away and he won’t contact you again. No one else will come looking for you in a place like this.

With a guy like Safin around she was undoubtedly safer than she would have been with the FSPs alone.

Safer, but no longer invisible.

⁂

July brought hotter weather and brittle peace—the vaccines had finally arrived. The wing of the hospital that had suffered the terrorist attack was still closed and they had lost several more staff members wounded in the initial attack. Madeleine and the remaining MSF were encouraged by the Project Coordinator to take earlier shifts. Progress remained steady but there was no clear resolution in sight. The stench of rot imprinted into Madeleine’s senses to the point where she no longer consciously registered her own nausea. Discontent among the staff continued to bubble under the surface on account of the closed wing and bad press.

It couldn't last forever.

A week away from August. Just another humid morning at six AM. Madeleine rose and prepared herself mentally for the day ahead. Stress kept her mind working late into the night, but her position with the Psychosocial Unit barred her from working overtime in the hospital. She was overwhelmed with keeping up the pace, not yet to the point of exhaustion.

There was an inordinate of activity on the road outside as she got dressed and left the room. She put it out of her mind.

Outside the hotel she met up with the Medical Coordinator and a few members of the Logistics Unit. They spent about ten minutes standing idle in the humid air, too weary to speak. The streets were usually empty this time of day.

An unremarkable black Jeep pulled up. The Medical Coordinator opened the door and was about to step into the car when it happened. The Medical Coordinator’s head burst over the interior of the vehicle and Madeleine. The body slumped like a doll to the dirt. Madeleine wanted to scream but could not. She turned and found herself facing down the barrel of a rifle.

Around a dozen men with guns, sans insignia, circled them. The man who had fired addressed her harshly in French: “Where are the rest of the MSF? Why are they not at the hospital?”

“I don’t understand.” Madeleine could see another group of men approaching from the rear. A massacre, onset.

“We’ve been waiting for months for a solution, and you have been injecting us with a useless vaccine.” He aimed right at her sternum. “Your doctors gave them all false hope for months. Now the MSF have abandoned you.”

“You have been protecting them!” the insurgent roared, levelling his weapon. “All this time! You knew why they were here, and you allowed them to experiment on our families like dogs!”

The man at his left turned and fired. The insurgent fell dead. “That’s enough.” One of the men from Kerberos in plainclothes. A dozen more in military gear materialised as if from nowhere. “There is no need for additional bloodshed,” said the plainclothes. “Release them now or you will be shot.”

All around her at once, gunfire. Madeleine didn't wait to see who had fired first. She prostrated herself, hands clasped over her neck, breath clogged in her throat.

All sound ceased. Her head continued to ring. Her eyes were open but she did not process the colour staining her skin, on her clothes, the smell of it. She hadn’t been shot. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.

Heavy footsteps approaching. She closed her eyes awaiting the kiss of metal at her temple.

“Dr Swann.” Madeleine shrunk away instinctively from the gloved hand upon her forearm. “It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Another soldier pulled her upright. Sight of blood on dry earth briefly mixed up with blood spattered across wooden floorboards. Madeleine went limp. Ushered into the backseat of an unmarked Jeep, she could not stop trembling. Shoulder-to-shoulder with another man she recognised as head of Logistics, Peter Miller. The door slammed shut, jolting her back into her own body. Sound of the ignition set her into trembling. Miller’s naked hand materialised on her shoulder. His voice overtaken by the roaring in her ears. Madeleine bowed her head into her hands like a child, whispering: “Ne me tuez pas. Je n’ai rien fait. Je ne sais rien.”

[mytwinklelights]

A Reunion - Part 2 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

Part 1

A/N: Oops a little late to be updating this! Sorry I’m inconsistent I’m actually quite busy atm! I’m already writing the next chapter though, so It won’t be as long unt that’s uploaded. Let me know what you think of this chapter and the series so far!

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: Swearing. Food & cooking. Let me know if I missed any others!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2742

---

The alarm starts blaring and I have to come to the realisation that it’s a new week, another six AM start and a long day of training. I turn off the alarm and lay still for a while staring at the ceiling and starting to form a list of the things I need to do to get ready. After realising the first step is getting out of bed I very strongly contemplating going back to sleep until someone storms into my room to come and retrieve me.

My eyes instantly widen as I realise.

I am going to be training with Peter Parker today.

My body instantly springs out of bed and rushed to my bathroom. I need to look presentable. I need to be ready. I need to seem like put together human that he could maybe possibly reciprocate crush towards.

Instead of getting out of bad at the last possible moment before I would be running late, throwing on any suitable training clothes and trudging my way to the gym. Today I got ready over an extended period. I picked out my cutest training outfit and made sure to stretch and warm up before heading downstairs so I could be in my best physical shape and actually seem like a capable Avenger.

As I walk into the gym, no one is there, the lights are off, and the room is dark. I am very rarely the first one here, but I’ll take it. I switch on the lights and head to the cupboard at the back of the room to start to set up the equipment Nat usually uses for our sessions.

“Why are you here before me? I am always the first person here. And you’re setting up too? This isn’t like you”.

I turn around to see Nat entering the room and setting her training bag on the bench near the door. She looks confused as she starts to take off her jacket and walk towards me.

“I woke up really early this morning, I don’t know why, so I thought I’d get a head start” I lie. It definitely wasn’t because I’m trying to impress a Spider type superhero who will be joining us at any moment. Handing her the infamous stopwatch, which is probably my nemesis due the number of times I struggle to complete sets in the time provided.

“Oh, well that’s made my job a little easer this morning” she chuckles whilst accepting the watch and hanging it around her neck. “But you’re going to have to set up for two” she continues “Peter is joining us today”.

“Oh yeah” I vocalise acting as if that wasn’t my main motivation for getting out of bed this morning. “I completely forgot, okay I’ll grab another set of everything” I head back to the storage cupboard to collect the items.

When I enter the gym room again, I see Peter talking to Nat, smiling at me as he sees me enter the room.

“Hi” I start, as I walk towards them setting down the other sets of weights “Did you have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah, I did thanks” He replies, “Did you?”

I nod. Nat walks towards her bag and starts getting out the final pieces we need for our sessions and I continue.

“Are you ready for this week? Having your first training session with Nat is really throwing you in the deep end. She can be tough” I laugh. He laughs too.

“Yeah, I’m a bit scared of her but I’m excited to see what the Avengers do to train. I’m worried I won’t be able to keep up” I laugh at his joke this time. He laughs too.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” I assure him, “If those videos of you swinging around the city have shown me anything, you’ll probably be better at this then me”.

“Oh, so you’ve watched them?” he asks with a small smirk.

Shit. I really just put myself in a compromising position there. I don’t want him to know that all I’ve done the last two days is watch every video of him I could find on YouTube. That is not exactly ‘I don’t have a massive crush on you’ behaviour.

“Oh yeah… Dad showed all of us them before you joined.” I stutter “Plus they’re viral. I couldn’t escape them if I tried”.

I brush it off whilst sitting down into a hamstring stretch to try and focus on anything else than that slip-up I just made and remove myself from his eye level. Eye contact was not the best thing to be making right now. I didn’t want to accidentally reveal to him the big mistake I just made.

Nat comes back over and starts a new conversation topic, moving it to dynamic stretches and correct warming up technique.

---

An hour later, I’m exhausted, my chest is heaving as I’m trying to get more air into my lungs. Nat’s sessions were hard, but since I now needed to be at my best physical performance to not look like fool in front of Peter, I’ve been pushing myself the hardest I have ever done and was trying to make it look like I wasn’t about to pass out extremely soon.

“Okay great guys!” Nat continues after the beeping of the stopwatch goes off once again, signalling the end of the set. “Now we’re going to put all of those moves to practice. I want you to have a little vs sparing match to see if you can keep effectively blocking and dodging attacks coming towards you”.

Great. Just what I want, my sweaty body to be facing towards Peter’s as he watches my every movement intensely in order to anticipate where to hit me next. Just great.

As we start, I’m not doing well. Peter has dodged every hit I’ve made towards him and has successfully made contact with me five times.

‘Pull yourself together’ I mumble to myself in my head. This is embarrassing. Steve, Sam and Bucky were working out in the corner and have been for the last 15 minutes. After losing the 3rd round, they started to look over, and noticed I wasn’t on my normal game. I was usually great at this. Nat looked confused too. As she called the 6th round in Peter’s favour. I take a deep breath and get myself into position.

As we start again, he swings his right arm towards me, I successfully duck under and as I’m squatted, I lift my left leg and manage to successfully wrap it around his right ankle and pull it towards myself, so he loses his footing and stumbles backwards. As he does this, I take my right arm and manage to strike him. Finally, I have a point in my favour. After another 15 minutes of sparring, we are now tied.

“This is the last round.” Nat announces “And you’re tied so winner takes all. 3, 2, 1. Begin!”

This time he swings at me with his left arm. I dodge. I swing at him with my left. He dodges. He lowers himself and tries to trip me up with his legs with a swooping motion at my ankles. I jump. As he raises back to a standing position, I try to strike. He dodges to the side.

After this uneventful back on forth, he catches me off guard and manages to tackle my left side and bring me down to the mat. I land on my right side and immediately try to roll myself back up to a standing position, but as I start to get back up, he is still crouched over me from the tackle and mumbles “Oh no you don’t”.

He pushes his body back against me, so I hit the floor with my back. After taking the impact of hitting the floor yet again I realise he is straddling me. Peter Parker is straddling me. In my gym. With four Avengers watching. My body is lying against the floor with my arms stuck under his thighs, lying at my sides, and he is sat on top of me resting against my lower stomach. I want to die.

He quickly realises our compromising position and gets himself up and offers me a hand to get me up also. I take it without looking at him. I look at my feet the whole time. As if that is helping me get myself up more efficiently. I clear my throat awkwardly and stand at his side looking at Nat. Taking a step to the right to stand a bit further from him.

She doesn’t even seem to notice our awkwardness due to the situation and congratulates Peter.

“That was a great session guys! Y/N just remember to tuck your elbows close to yourself when you fall so your arms do not get trapped. But great job Peter on getting them down. That’s a great outcome for a first session. I’ll see you again tomorrow morning”.

She smiles and walks away making her way over to Sam who earlier challenged her to yet another sparring session when he first came in. (He is still yet to win against her, but I appreciate his determination).

Peter and I slowly start walking together towards the door. Still yet to talk to make eye contact with each other.

“So…” I start “We have training with Wanda too today. That doesn’t start for another half an hour so we can get showered and clean up before then. You know where your room is right?”

“Yeah.” he replies, “I dropped my stuff in there this morning just before I came down to the gym”.

“Cool.” I answer. We walk silently to the lift as I select the floor that will lead us to our rooms. As I walk down the corridor, I realise his room is literally opposite mine. Great. That’s really going to be great with wanting to avoid him if this awkwardness stays around. Just another unfortunate event to add to today.

“Umm, I’ll come and get you just before we should head down. I doubt you know where we need to head” I continue slowly backing away towards my bedroom door. Practically gasping for this interaction to be over.

“Okay great, I’ll see you then” he smiles as he walks into his room and closes the door.

As I enter my room. I want to lock the door and never leave. But alas, that is not an option, so I head to the shower and then get dressed. I lie on my bed and stare at the clock counting down the minutes until I have to face him again. As the time arrives, I sigh and head to his door. Knocking on it lightly, hoping he maybe doesn’t hear me and I can head down by myself, but he appears at the door seconds later. As I see him slowly open the door and I’m met with his awkward tight-lipped grin, I decide to no longer make it awkward between the us. I’m going to and act like the whole straddling incident didn’t happen and wasn’t plaguing every thought in my mind.

“You ready?” I say with the most chipper voice I can managing right now. He nods and I continue. “Cool! Follow me!”

As we make our way to the studio, I talk to him about anything and everything I can to ease the tension. College, Midtown High, other Avengers. Anything to make the next few days we spend with each other not feel like we had to walk on eggshells around each other. By the time we approach the studio we are having a regular conversation. Success! Hopefully, this next bit of training is better.

Training sessions with Wanda are a lot more chill than the ones with Nat. It was more about focusing on your powers and abilities and taking control of them. If it wasn’t for Wanda, I would still be turning invisible at every uncomfortable moment. Earlier today would have been a lot more interesting if that was the case.

She starts the session by getting to know more about Peters abilities and ‘Spidey sense’ as he calls it. She explains the exercises that will be useful in becoming attuned with them. For an hour we work on these exercises, sat crossed legged beside each other as Wanda guides us through them. It was peaceful and the closest thing to meditation and mindfulness we manage to get at the Avengers facility. This place is the epitome of chaos.

As we finish up the session. Peter and I thank Wanda and make our way to head out the studio.

“Oh, actually, Y/N can I talk to you for a second? It’s just about your progress”.

“Of course.” I reply, “Hey Peter, I’ll meet you in the kitchen for lunch?” I ask him, making sure that he is actually okay with those plans and didn’t want to be alone instead.  

“Sure!” he replies and smiles before heading down the corridor. “I’ll see you in a sec”.

I head back into the room and walk towards Wanda.

“What’s up? Is something wrong?” I ask, I wasn’t too concerned that this was about anything serious.

“I noticed you weren’t really focusing that much in that session. Maybe you were too focused on somebody else who was also participating?” She questions with a slight sing-song voice, like a child making fun of another in a playground.

Oh no. How could I forget that Wanda can read minds? Like how can I forget that? It comes up in everyday conversation all the time, and NOW I choose to forget? My heart drops realising she now knows about my embarrassing crush, but also because she can literally be reading all my worries about this right now.

“Wanda! I thought we talked about not reading our minds! As you know, how it’s a complete violation of our privacy” I whine. I’m so embarrassed. I try to ignore the fact that she now knows I have a crush on Peter, but instead try to direct the conversation to her mind reading.

In all honesty. When she joined the Avengers, we all had a meeting about how she can never use that ability on any of us, and she agreed and hasn’t used it at all, at least to all of our knowledge.

“I have to read your minds to get a better sense of your progress, you know I only do it during our sessions”.

She’s right. We did agree to that at the beginning. Years ago. When I first started training, and I have since completely forgotten about it.

“It’s okay! I won’t tell anyone, and for what it’s worth I think you two will be cute, you know, if Tony can look past it” She laughs, and I smile with relief. I love Wanda, if anyone had to know about my crush, I’m glad it’s her, she definitely won’t tell anyone. Maybe that comes with the responsibility of having the power to know everyone’s secrets. It would make sense. Though I will definitely now have to try and censor my thoughts around her during sessions from now on. That could lead to a lot more uncomfortable conversations.

---

As I make my way into to the kitchen, I see Peter looking in the fridge.

“Need a hand?” I ask heading to the kitchen island.

“You know what? I’ve got this, I’m actually a good cook.” He responds with a look of pride across his face as he faces me looking away from the fridge.

“Ooh okay, well I guess I can teach you how to fight and you can teach me how to cook” I laugh as she starts gathering all the ingredients.

“That’s funny, considering the fact you were pinned under me not even a couple of hours ago.” He retaliates as a snarky remark.

I start the feel the embarrassment hit my body and the transition of turning invisible that comes with it. I immediately look panicked as I try to get control of it, so I don’t turn invisible in response to what he just said.

I laugh to pretend like I’m not completely mortified.

“Touché Parker. But I still have to taste your cooking first. You may just be all talk”.

Lunch turned out to be delicious and he made me eat my words. Quite literally.

Taglist! (Message me if you want to be added!)

@haley-talks-too-much

[plantcrazy]

Lost Children of the CCC Update (+ Art WIPs)

Okie dokie! I actually have a lot to talk about for this one, so I figured I'd do a separate post. Regarding the art above, well... it started life as a cover, but I think it's just going to be a piece of poster-style art to compliment the one I'm doing for Triple Warfare.

I'm a very visual person (I might have said this before?) so I do a lot of posters/covers/concepts sketches because it helps me visualise and plan out the stories in my head better. For this one, I was mostly working on Ethan (glasses) and Robbie (hat) characters since my writing between chapters 3, 5 & 10 (particularly for Ethan) felt like I was writing different people while Robbie kind of faded out. I also wanted to establish Ben's character a little better with the thoughts and feelings in his head which you can see the visual representation of above along with Ethan and Robbie's.

Also, I think I may have made the hat look less like it's on fire and more like it was shot by a missile ^^;

Anyway, art aside, onto the update!

I'm doing well progress wise, I've got 24,341 words on my doc across 19 chapters typed out roughly so far + the already finished and uploaded ones. In total, it's looking like the first arc will be 35 chapters.

I also just finished the set-up needed for each chapter this morning as well as placement for the first arc I'm calling 'Escape the Wall' now (you'll see I've already changed the title of Ao3).

Now the planning is done I've just got to work on writing the dialogue and sequences for each chapter. However, with all the plot finished I do have a bit of rewriting to do.

Rewrite wise, maybe a little of chapter 2 with Wallace will get thinned to cut the amount of info down since it's a bit much early on. There's also one line in chapter 3 which has bothered me to no end and WILL be getting kicked because it's dumb. I thought it was cool at the time because I was watching 'Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts' (highly recommended) but, no it's dumb because 'You need to do some serious soul-searching' coming from the LEADER of a CRIMINAL organisation...just no. Reginald is a smooth talker (Civil Warfare ending, ) so rather than Reginald saying that STUPID sentence, instead he should be going on about dignity and some other stuff like the charismatic person he is.

Chapter shifting! This is why the update is running late.

I mentioned last time I was holding the chapter back to work on Macbeth's voice more (glad I did, it's better now). However, because I just finished all the setup needed for later chapters, 'Day 109' will be moving to Ch.7. Also, current Ch.4 'Unknown #1' will be getting moved back to Ch.6 + a small rewrite. I won't be deleting the chapter until the new Ch.4 is ready to upload.

The new Chapter 4 is in the works being only added in earlier this week. I don't have an upload date for it yet, but I'll let you guys know when I know since I'm working on it more tonight.

And I think that's everything. Regular WIP update later this week

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Six: Sensory Integration 2

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: It’s a fine night for a walk by the water with a handsome vet holding your hand. I think that says it all.

Behind on your sessions? Want more from the author? Click Me

Word Count: Almost 1.9k (a bit shorter, hopefully y’all don’t mind by the end!)

Warnings: Basically still fluff, but also some saucy morsels near the end…not full on smut, though, so don’t get too excited. We aren’t there yet, my little lovelies. Soon, though…soon.

Author’s Note: As I said before, this date totally got away from me, nearing a whopping 6k in total. Thanks again for all the love. And in other news, I told a couple of my PT friends about this story, and one of them agreed to be my official technical consultant on the project for future chapters and even if I wanna flesh it out, modify it to include strictly “original” characters, and eventually take it to a publisher! I sent what I’ve done so far to her just before I started drafting this post, so hopefully she’ll have good insight for me! She said it was about time someone wrote a story like that! Lol! (She reads  a lot, so I guess people really don’t think of PTs as the heroines of love stories. Sad, really! Most of the ones I know are lovely and loving people!) The other was just instantly excited and can’t wait to read it.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although...their lackadaisical notification system might...sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

The lake was fairly near her clinic, not two blocks away. He wasn't wrong about her feeling up to a walk when the time came. She was looking forward to the fresh night air near the lake. It was a deep-seated part of who she was to love the water.

He'd pulled into the small, empty gravel lot at the head of the paved walking trail. It was well dark since it had just turned 10:00, and the moonlight danced off the water, calm, but with a faint shimmer from the light breeze. The stars danced, winking at them as if they knew the romance that surged between the couple was burgeoning right here below them.

"Now, last time I walked this trail, I'll warn you…I got approached by a gang. And they were…pretty vicious. I had to resort to some guerilla tactics that I'm not too proud of to fend 'em off."

"Oh no!" she wasn't aware of any gang crime in their fairly peaceful city! "What kind of gang?"

"A goose gang." He looked at her gravely. Before they both burst out laughing in hysterics.

"I thought you were serious!" she wiped tears carefully from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I was! They are stupid territorial! I had several of them tryin'a bite at my legs at once. It was quite the ordeal, I assure you!" he said, serious, but still laughing.

"Well, you'll save me if the Ya-Gooz-ah descend on us tonight, wont you?" she teased, clutching at his arm in mock fright at the thought of a band of Yakuza Geese being an actual thing, but thinking it was a great way to keep him touching her.

"As long as you stay real close to me, sunshine. I'll protect you from the devil himself." He kissed her on the top of the head, sealing the promise and warming her from the point of contact all the way to her toes.

As they traipsed along the pavement path, they talked about everything and nothing, the gentle night wind a whisper against their skin, which had been made slightly dewy from the walk and the humidity. They had made two laps around the small body of water when they came back around to one of several benches placed at intervals on the trail running its perimeter. Without breaking their conversation, she pointed to the nearest one, indicating her desire to sit, which he understood and lead them there.

“See, the problem I have with sports at that level, especially football is the harm I’ve witnessed it do to a kid’s body. We’ve treated athletes in high school and as early as 7th and 8th grade that the coaches are completely obsessed with getting them out on the field or court again. These kids are taking more impact than their bodies are ready for. They can’t miss a game, or even practice for therapy even if they’re just riding pine. And the parents are so laser focused on that potential college scholarship for that sport that they can’t see that if their child doesn’t get better, no scout is gonna want to dole out a free ride. Not to a broken-down athlete. Did you feel that kind of pressure when you were playing football? Because I don’t remember it at my school.” She went off a on bit of a tangent because she’d just been told by Heather before she left that her torn meniscus, Jason couldn’t get in for several weeks because of his practice and game schedule limiting his availability.  

“I mean, I felt pressure, I guess, but not outside of practice or the games. I’d hurt my knee my junior year early, same one we been workin’ on, and they just had me sit out a few weeks and work with a PT, but I don’t remember it being a problem to miss out on anything related to football if it was because of my health.” He sat down next to her on the fiberglass bench, which was molded to have the look of fine blonde wood, and put his arm around her shoulder. No pretense of the reach, no awkwardly sitting for a while beforehand, just continuing to touch her as he had been their whole walk.

She leaned into his shoulder, comfortably, as if they’d done this a thousand times and this wasn’t their first date. And continued their discussion.

“What has gotten into people these days? It’s like they’re not satisfied with anything. Nothing is ever enough for a single person on this good earth!” She sighed, frustrated by the neediness of people that seemed to come with her own job and projecting that on to the world…not that there wasn’t at least a measure of truth in it.

“Personally speaking, I think you’re wrong.”

“You don’t think that the world is full of dissatisfied Karens?” She laughed.

“Oh I do. But it’s not every person. You’re sitting next to one very content man right here.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He confirmed.

“Was it the steak, or the lobster mac?” She’d be fantasizing about them both until the next time they went there. Yeah, she was already thinking about “next time” and “they.” She was in trouble.

“Not to knock either, but I’m a hun’ert percent sure it was the company.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She smiled, nuzzling into him, feeling the downy softness of his shirt again and smelling his intoxicating cologne. She suddenly remembered a promise from their session.

“Oh, hey. I was gonna have a response for you…to your 'question' from earlier.” She said, mischief burning in her eyes. She kneeled up on the bench and turned his face to hers, brushing a hand against his impossibly soft beard before descending slowly in for a kiss.

It started sweet, a few languid, full pecks, then she parted her lips barely enough for her tongue to venture out to explore his full mouth. They were met after several attempts with a reciprocal openness from him. She dared, then to search him with her tongue. It was simply browsing now. Feeling no rush to complete its quest. Only a sense of the need for due diligence. She was surprised at the flavor she'd encountered. She hadn't seen him pop a mint, and she hadn't left his side all evening. He was sly. It was a sweet and strong taste. Wintergreen on steroids, with the mildest hint of vanilla. She wanted more. Of the flavor. Of him.

She let her tongue find his, knowing what would happen, somehow, even though they had never kissed like this before. Never when it wasn't rushed and needing to be…PG. Here in the dark of night, with no one but the celestial bodies as witnesses, they didn't have to worry about her job, or the public. The judgement of the outsider's gaze.

She knew, by instinct alone, that this would spark him into more than latent participation. And that's exactly why she did it. As previously stated, she was definitely an intentional beast when the occasion called and mood struck.

He did as she'd expected, his own tongue waking, beginning a playful dance with hers, exploring her mouth with more urgency and desire, pulling a ragged gasp from her lungs. She broke away to give some attention to his neck. She held him by the base of his head, thumb playfully brushing into his thick facial hair. A breathy moan that sounded very much like her name escaped his lips. This was the reaction she had been dying to get from him for so long. A surrendering bliss that only came from this kind of personal, intimate, and one-one connection. She'd gotten hints of it when she'd helped him stretch, when she heard those stifled groans he felt at the good hurt she brought him with her expert touch.

She bit his earlobe, and sealed her fate. He growled and pulled her up to his lap in an immodest straddle. Not that she cared in the empty dark. He seemed to need her lips back on his, desperate to find a purchase that would never present itself. The paradox of a kiss.

His hands roved over the back of her from neck to behind, very much favoring the latter. It was an odd sensation. Most of her experience with ass-grabbing had been less than pleasant. Either dirty old men had touched her without consent, or boyfriends had done essentially the same thing as a show of their dominance over her, also without her strictest consent. The way Sy held her was tender, exploratory, and…she couldn't help but think the word loving. "Love" wasn't a word they were ready to even bring up. But she thought he was showing it in his feather touch and hungry kiss.

The breeze was cool, and felt extra cold where she seemed to be warmest. Her position had her…very exposed to the elements, covered only by the fine layers of her underwear at some angles. She was suddenly very aware that they were on a precipice here. If they carried on much longer like this, she wasn't going to want to stop. She already didn't. And she was just out of practice enough to be unsure of where her point of no return was. Dammit. She broke away, in agony from it.

"Sy, I…I think …you should take me back." she stuttered.

"Okay." he pulled her back in for another kiss, pretending to misinterpret,which she indulged a moment but quickly escaped.

"No, sweetie." she chuckled. "You know what I mean."

"Or…I could bring you home with me." It was only a suggestion, but there was a plea in his eyes that pulled at her guts. He wanted her. And she wanted him. With every single cell in her body, she wanted every singe cell of his. But she truly felt that taking things slowly was the best option given the complexities of their situation.

"You don't know how badly I want to accept that invite, Sy." she rested her forehead on his. They were both breathless.

"It's just two little letters, sunshine. O. K. Easy as granny's peach pie."

"I'm terrible at pie crust." they laughed.

"Let's go." he said, helping her off his lap, and preparing to stand, but sitting back down immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Is it the knee? Did I hurt it?" she was already mad at herself, and at him a bit, if this indiscretion had caused him a setback…how ironic it would be!

"Nope, knee's great. Dandy."

"Did you get lightheaded?"

"No, but uhh…it's definitely SOME sort of blood flow issue. Gonna need a minute." he explained without explaining with a sheepish expression on his face…it hit her like a speeding bus.

"Ope." she looked to his lap without thinking, and immediately averted to the water again, as she sat beside him, hands clasped over the seat of the bench. His hand found hers, and covered it, asking to hold it, and getting its way.

"I had…the best time tonight, Shane." he told her, staring at the opposite bank where the maple, oak, and sycamore trees swayed to the tune of the gentle night's breeze.

"So did I, Sy."

"You free tomorrow?" he asked, hopefully.

"You tell me!" she replied…hopefully.

Up Next: Chapter Seven: Non-Productive Time

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (50/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1839 Chapter Summary: After defeating Hawkmoth, there are still a few things Team Miraculous has to round up. A month later, everyone is still coping, but there are things to look forward to. Author's Note: oh my gosh...the last chapter of this story! I've been writing this for over a year and I love it so much. Thank you so much for sticking around and reading, I appreciate it more than you know! Make sure to check back in a few weeks for the mini sequel!!

Prev / Mini Sequel part 1 / Masterlist

Epilogue

---

One Month Later

"Don't be bemused, it's just the news," Nadja Chamack's voice rang through the TV, much less energetic than usual.

The five heroes sat on Marinette's couch, dressed in black, and emotionally exhausted. Everyone had tear-stained faces, and no one was saying anything, just sitting and coping.

"Just two hours after Emilie Agreste's proper burial, Gabriel Agreste has been found guilty for multiple counts of public endangerment, and multiple counts of kidnapping. We have reporters on the field seeing him being taken away," She reported, and the video turned to an overhead view of Gabriel Agreste in handcuffs, leaving the courthouse in the back of a police car. Adrien shut his eyes for a few seconds until the screen changed again.

Nadja continued. "His assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur, has also been charged with multiple counts of complicity but could be released early because she claims she was forced to help him. That is currently being investigated. We want to send a heartfelt message to our heroes to say thank you for keeping Paris safe and continuing to do so. The public will always support you, and we hope to see you at the statue ceremony in a few days."

Marinette squeezed Adrien's hand to remind him that she's there for him, and they would get through this together. All five of them were a mess, and just glad it was all over.

"This broadcast is dedicated to Emilie Agreste, may she finally rest in peace," Nadja said, and the TV went to commercial.

Adrien started crying again, not sure how much more he could cry before he ran out of tears. They all looked down, and Marinette shut the TV off, still holding Adrien.

---

Marinette focused her camera on her friends and pressed record, then took her seat. They definitely weren't ready to be on camera all the time, but they knew this video had to be made.

"Hi, I'm Marinette," She began the video, less energetic than her videos were used to. "And I've got my team with me. Today we're doing a final Q&A about being superheroes," Marinette said. "Like before, we will choose the questions to answer, as we still have to protect some things. But most questions will come from Twitter and YouTube," She clarified.

The team was still going through a lot, emotionally and psychically. Initially, they weren't going to make any videos until they were back to normal, or as normal as they could be, but once they all agreed to take a step back, a final Miraculous video needed to be made.

"There are still some sensitive topics," Alya piped up. "So Marinette and I have already chosen the ones we will be answering, and not all of us may answer every question," She explained, hoping it would keep people from commenting anything rude.

"Are we all ready to begin?" Marinette asked the group with a soft smile, and with a round of yes, she asked the first question. "Thank you guys so much. How are you doing? We care about you and value you more than you know," She read. "I'll start. I think it's safe to say we're still kind of a mess, but we're getting better every day. It feels like one weight is off my shoulders, for now, at least," Marinette said.

There were a few nods around her, agreeing. "My head is still a mess from everything. But we've been working through it together," Alya added. "It helps that we're all together, definitely."

Adrien cleared his throat. "Marinette said it straight. I'm a mess, and I can't be any more clear than that. But having a new schedule and helping around The Bakery keeps my mind busy, but there is a new stress of starting school," He said, forcing a chuckle at the end.

"Very true!" Chloé echoed. "At least then we'll all be focusing on something to keep us busy!" She said.

Nino didn't answer as most of the emotions were covered. "Speaking of school," Alya said. "Our next question asks what's next for you guys now that the Akuma threat is gone?" Alya asked.

"I guess this is as good a time as any to announce some updates for all of us!" Marinette said and took a deep breath. I'm sure you've all noticed my lack of uploads, for obvious reasons, and they will not be going back to how they used to be. That's because I will be busy studying at my top school for design!" She said, excitedly. "I do want to get back into uploading more fashion videos, and I hope I'll be able to incorporate stuff from school into them, so keep an eye out," She winked.

Marinette looked to Adrien to let him talk about his plans. "I am going to school to study business, so I can fully take over Agreste Fashion in a few years. Right now, it is being run by the CFO, and I will be working with him and his team to help me prepare for that responsibility. In a few years, the Agreste Fashion, you know now, will be completely different, and I hope the best designer out there will be willing to tag along," Adrien nudged Marinette with a smile.

She brushed it off with an eye roll and looked to Alya next. "The Ladyblog really took off with everything going on, and I have taken a job as a full-time reporter as well as going to school for writing!" Alya said. "It will be a change of pace, but I'm really excited. Chloé?" She directed.

"Plain and simple, I'm going to study politics," She said, not elaborating anymore.

"And possibly our most exciting one...Nino?" Marinette smiled wide and turned to him.

Nino jumped when he heard his name. "Oh yeah!" He said. "I'm going to be taking a year off because I'm going on tour with Jagged Stone!" Nino said and put his fist in the air in excitement.

Jagged Stone made the offer to Nino only a few days before, and everyone was excited for him, though sad he was going to be gone for so long. The questions continued on, asking about favorite things to do as heroes, what changes they would make to their costumes, if they could switch their Miraculous for another which one would it be, and some that weren't related to superheroes at all.

They talked about how their relationships with each other have changed, and also what they wish they could have done in high school.

"Now for what I'm sure you've all been wondering, why is this the last Miraculous superhero-related video?" Marinette said, and everyone's mood changed from having fun to being somber. "We, as a group, have decided to take a step back. At least for a little bit," She said. "Hawkmoth and the Akumas are over, and crime rates are very low. Plus, it gives us a chance to focus on something different," Marinette explained.

"We love being superheroes, but it's time," Adrien added, followed with nods form the team.

Marinette took a deep breath. "But! We do have an exciting announcement. This Saturday, we will be doing a stream with Jagged Stone to finally listen to his album and talk about all the work!" Marinette said, and everyone else murmured things about it. "Check the information below to be sure to listen with us!" She said. "But I think that's it for today. Thank you all so much for watching, and I hope you'll check out our social media," Marinette took a deep breath. "Bug out."

Marinette had the video out as fast as she could, and the comments flew in.

oh man, catch me crying right now i love you guys so much

i know this is an important step for them but im still sad that its the end of an era

BUG OUT BUG OUT BUG OUT

she said BUG OUT this cant be the end of ladybug and chat noir

I hope you guys know how much we love and value you! I hope you guys are feeling better and keep getting better. Excited for everything in the future!!

OMG CONGRATS GUYS on all your achievements! Can't wait to see what you all do! ESPECIALLY YOU mari and i cant wait to see what adrien does with Agreste Fashion!!

ugh i love you guys SO MUCH

i love that mari would choose to be chat like,,, can i see that please?

I'm so buying tickets to Jagged mostly for Nino !!

thank you guys so much <3

To say they were pleasantly surprised with the comments was an understatement.

---

Right after the video was uploaded and the team read through the comments, they sat in Marinette's home, waiting for their visitor. There were mixed feelings, and no one knew what to say. When there was a knock on the door, the air in the room grew thick.

"Hello, Master," Marinette said as she welcomed Master Fu into the home. The Kwamis floated behind their holders, clearly sad to be leaving, and not saying anything.

"Are you all ready?" He asked.

No one spoke, just looked at each other. "Well, that's good, because I would like to say something," Master Fu said. "You five are the best Miraculous holders. I am very proud of all of you for what you've accomplished while also having the stress of life," He said, and grabbed the Miracle Box out of his bag. "Which is why I want to pass this onto you, Marinette."

All five gasped, and Marinette was shocked. "W-what?" She asked, her jaw on the floor.

“My time as guardian of the Miraculous is up. I have been guarding these since I was just a boy, and Marinette and Adrien, you two were easily the best Ladybug and Black Cat there has ever been. You work well together and are true leaders. All five of you have the best teamwork I could have ever imagined, and after all you have been through with Hawkmoth, it is clear that it is time for a change," Master Fu said and handed the Miracle Box to Marinette, which she hesitantly grabbed. "Marinette, you were made to be Ladybug. You were made to be a Guardian."

Her friends began celebrating with wide smiles, clearly excited for Marinette. The Kwamis were exchanging confused looks as to what this meant, and Pollen was the one to speak up.

“Does this mean we can stay with our owners?” Pollen asked.

Marinette turned around, holding onto the Miracle Box tight. She took a deep breath and formed a smile. “You know, it’s probably a better idea to not have them all in one place. Who knows, maybe the world will need us again," She said, and everyone joined in a group hug. After all this stress, emotional and physical pain, it was time for them to live their lives, with their best friends (humans and Kwamis alike) by their side.

THE END

edit: (except now there’s a sequel)

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries  @toodaloo-kangaroo 

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Hidden in Plain Sight (3)- Tom Holland X Reader

A/N: This story is fun to write, but school is taking over little by little so sorry if this gets delayed more than I mean for it to be! Enjoy Chapter Three!

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Swearing? Maybe? To be honest I can’t remember if I swore or not but knowing me I probably did. But there is mention of a killer moth so if that’s as trigger as it was when it was flying around my room then I’ll mention it here.

You had the absolute worst day. You were hoping it was going to be a good day since you had put on one of your favorite outfits to wear to work. But as soon as you got to work, everything turned into a shit show. A project you thought was finished didn’t save the last days edits, your boss got on you for something that was your coworker’s responsibility, and someone ate your lunch, which you’re not entirely sure how that happened, but it did. Add to it you have the start of what you think is a migraine, the last thing you want to do is anything work related, but because you’re behind on the project that is due tomorrow, you’ll probably be up all night working on it before going in tomorrow to continue working on it at the office. So heating up some soup to eat while you work, you decide to scroll through Tumblr while you wait for it to heat up. 

The news of Spider-Man, and therefore Tom Holland, staying in the MCU still hasn’t died down, which let’s be honest why should it? It’s fantastic news. Out of all the Spider-Mans, Tom’s portrayal of it is your favorite and you would be so sad to see him taken from Marvel just because Sony, Marvel and Disney couldn’t come to an agreement on things. It’s only been a couple days since it was announced, but you wouldn’t be surprised if this was talked about for weeks at least. You reblog a couple of photos, adding some of your usual hashtags. Honestly, you want to be distracted by asks, but you know that the likelihood that people will respond is low, plus you shouldn’t let yourself be distracted by Tumblr when you have the project due tomorrow. 

Hating seeing notifications, you click on the second icon from the right on the bottom of your screen. You clear off the notifications from reblogs and likes but notices your app is still showing a notification, on the messages side. It’s probably just from one of your friends. You flip over to the other screen and see a message from none other than Tomholland2013, who you’ve been messaging on and off over the past couple of days, ever since you sent him that edit.

You haven’t been super active on tumblr lately. Everything ok?x

Been super busy at work lol. Big deadlines coming up.

You don’t expect to get a message back since you figured from your messages where he mentioned he was in the early hours of the day while you were only in the late afternoon, that he was probably asleep since you got home later from work than you had planned. So you set your phone aside as you pull the broccoli cheddar soup from the microwave. However, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a message waiting for you when you pick your phone back up to head back to your computer to keep working.

Ah, big deadlines. What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?x

Hm, this new tumblr friend of yours is awake even though it’s probably the middle of the night for him?

I don’t mind. I work in graphic design. Isn’t it the middle of the night for you? 

It would be if I was at home. I travel a lot for work. I’m currently in New York, so it’s only 9pm.x

But it definitely feels like I should be asleep. I’ve only been in New York for a few days and my mind is still on London time.x

What kind of work do you do? 

You set your phone down and boot your computer back up. You know you have shadows to deal with and layers to add back before even getting to the stuff you were meaning to get on today. This project was going to be the death of you. 

Tom stares at the message. How does he respond to that? He can’t very well tell you he’s an actor. That blows all of this. He likes being able to be open with you and the moment that it comes out that he is actually Tom Holland, well you might not be open with him. Could he tell you he works in the movie field without having to admit who he is? Could he play it off that he’s still a fanboy, because he will be a marvel fanboy until the day he dies, without blowing this whole thing up? There’s just something about you and being able to connect with someone who has no idea who he is that is different. 

Even on your blog today, you shared things from months ago and still reacted like it was your first time seeing them. Your whole blog just radiated positivity, even though your messages sounded like you had a lot on your plate outside of the internet world. He wants to be able to know you without the pressure of having to be, well, him. But you’re not asking him to spill everything about who he is. Just a snip-it. 

Film production. Getting ready to head off to a new project actually.x

Must be fun to travel for it. Anywhere fun?

Cleveland actually. Haven’t been there before, so maybe I’ll find something fun to do outside of the project while I’m there.x

Maybe you’ll run into Tom. He’s supposed to be there shooting a project I think. Especially if you’re also in the film industry, you’d already have more of a way into things than say I would lol 

I don’t know if I’ll have that much time off to look for him.x

Well if you happen to run into him in said little time off, tell him there’s probably half a million if not more tumblr users willing to marry him, should he be in need of a wife, husband, or nonbianary pal.

Would you happen to be one of those said half a million?x

He shouldn’t have sent it. You have been pretty good about responding, but after sending that message, he hasn’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours and he’s beside himself. You also haven’t posted on your blog. Which makes him think you’re avoiding him on the site all together, which is even worse. The flight to Cleveland, wouldn’t have been half bad if he wasn’t worried the whole time about what you might have been sending while his phone was on airplane mode. And of course the one time he would have paid any amount for on flight wi-fi, it was down and no one could use it.

As soon as the plane lands, he’s flipping the switch to connect his phone again. He needs to see if you’ve messaged back. He’s ignoring all the other notifications that pop up, looking for only on apps notifications. And while you haven’t posted again, you have messaged back. Which makes him suddenly feel like he can breathe again. 

I’m not the one who took Tom’s name on here. I feel like you might propose to Tom before I even have a chance to meet him IRL.

I don’t think I’m Tom’s type.X

And what do you think Tom’s type is? 

And it takes everything to not just describe you. It wouldn’t be hard. He had spent a lot of time deep diving through your blog. He had looked through your #me tab on your blog. It was filled with everything from selfies to posts about things you had done. And you were the kind of person that he was into. It wasn’t an only physical attraction thing. It was the things that you found important enough to post about. The little things about your day that you shared about. But instead of typing back you, Tom decides to type something different.

I think he would be into someone down to earth. Someone who is into sharing time with friends and family equally and someone who has a great sense of humor. Oh and they would HAVE to love Tessa. That would be a must.x

Wow you’ve thought a lot about this.

Do you disagree?x

Surprisingly no. But I thought you’d say something more… I don’t know physical I guess.

Why’s that?x

I don’t know. I just did.

What do you think he’d be into?x

He can’t help but ask. He wants to know what you think he’s like. There’s enough speculation out there about what he’s like, but for some reason, knowing what you think about him, it means something to him.

I would say, similar to you- family, friends and Tessa would definitely be at the top. Sense of humor would be important. I also feel like with there being so much he can’t talk about to the public, having someone he can trust with stuff would be important. I also think trust would be important so that he has a space he can just be himself too. 🤷‍♀️

Pretty spot on. All of those are important to him. He wants to ask if those things are all important to you, but asking that would come off weird, so he takes a different approach.

Honestly if I wasn’t such a div when I was making accounts I would have just made a Tessa fan blog. I’m a bigger fan of her than of Tom. x

SO TRUE. How can you not be?! She’s the purest thing in this world (sorry to Tom) and every time he shares more of her with us I melt a little.

Paddy had sent him that picture of Tessa this morning, maybe sharing it would brighten everyone’s days. Especially knowing that you were such a fan of her too. Adding the picture to his Instagram story, with a quick caption of missing this sweet girl, he quickly uploads it.

APPARENTLY TOM CAN READ OUR THOUGHTS?!

What do you mean?x

Cute Tessa content just uploaded to his Insta story. Apparently he’s away from her and missing her 😭

She’s just too pure for this world x

I needed that right now.

Something wrong?x

Work project might kill me. 

It’s due by the end of the day, but photoshop keeps crashing and I might scream. 

I’m sorry love x

I’m restarting my computer for the third time today and it’s not even noon yet. 

You know he’s English so the love thing shouldn’t throw you. Plus he’s a boy on the internet. But for some reason, it feels like something more. So instead of saying anything about it, you just keep messaging like nothing happened. A small part of you is hoping that by not mentioning it though, it might happen again.

Tom spends the rest of the day messaging you when he can. He knows you’re working on a project that has a deadline, so he doesn’t expect you to be at his beck and call. But when he gets a notification at almost eleven o’clock at night his time from your blog, he hopes it’s one of your personal posts to make him laugh. He isn’t let down.

THERE WAS A MOTH FLYING AROUND MY ROOM AND NOW I CAN’T FIND IT IM GOING TO DIE. IF IT EATS ME YOU ALL KNOW WHO THE MURDER IS

#me #killer moth #save me #if i die i leave everything to tom

He can’t help but send you an ask about it.

Tomholland2013 asked: You know moths don’t eat people right?x

Y/T/B: You didn’t see how big this one was. This one was definitely of the people eating variety with how big it was. And now it’s hiding in my room waiting for me to close my eyes and then it will sneak up on me, kill me, and devour me whole. 🖕

Tom laughs at your reply before sending another ask. Sure he could do this in your message thread, but he’s betting the asks are helping distract you from the moth.

Tomholland2013 asked: That’s a quiet defensive response from someone who is going to be eaten. If you want me to come save you from a killer moth, maybe be a bit nicer.x

Y/T/B: If you will race over here, find this moth, and release it into the wild so that it can’t kill me in my sleep I will make you as many Tom edits as it takes in gratitude. 👏😘Just come save me please. I swear I can hear him laughing in the distance. 

Tomholland2013 asked: If he’s laughing in the distance, I’ll be over to take care of him. No one gets to disrespect my favorite blog and get away with it.x

Y/T/B: Thanks darling. I really, really appreciate it. Now I must be off to hunt this moth, before he hunts me.

Tags: @serendipitous-amor​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @tomfiction4​ @im-deeply-shallow

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Okay, I watched Russell Howard’s first stand-up DVD (made in 2008) and it made me remember how much I enjoy early-era Jon and Russell and I’ll probably be back into their radio show so get ready for too many posts about that.

In the meantime, I would just like to point out one specific thing. I re-watched bits of Jon’s A Little Bit OCD documentary tonight. Aside from all the obsessive thoughts that characterize that disorder, aside from the underlying anxiety and the overarching consequences and all the other important shit that he covers in that video (seriously, it’s on YouTube but I hear it’s blocked in some countries so if you can’t find it there then I uploaded it to my Google drive, go watch it if you haven’t seen it, but trigger warning if you have any OCD-like issues because the first time I watched it I did cry for the last 20 minutes straight and feel fucked up mentally for a couple of weeks because I couldn’t stop thinking about it), he talks about the straightforward symptom of compulsions to do simple things.

Jon talks about having an experience that I think is common to a lot of people with OCD, which is having to do things an even number of times to feel balanced. It seems like most people who experience compulsions need to do things twice, to do things the same number of times on each side, to end up in the middle.

I know I used to have this. I remember being quite young and being brought to a doctor for it. I got diagnosed with OCD as a kid; later on they said I maybe didn’t have OCD itself and instead I have OCD symptoms as a result of Asperger’s. But in practice, that comes to the same thing as just having OCD. I remember being quite young – back when my only diagnosis was OCD so that’s the only thing anyone was trying to treat – and having a therapist try to get me to touch something an odd number of times. I remember crying in the doctor’s office because I couldn’t do that. My brain didn’t much mind which even number I picked, but I had to do everything an even number of times. I remember crying in the car on the drive to see that doctor because it hurt so much to have to do things an odd number of times, and eventually my mother stopped making me go to the OCD doctor.

Here’s the thing. When I was… I want to say twelve? Around twelve, I think. I read this fantasy book series called The Arthur Trilogy by Kevin Crossley-Holland. It was some rewriting of the King Arthur story, in which Arthur was a teenager. I don’t remember all the details of this. At that age, I consumed fantasy novels like they were candy. The only ones I got so into that I remember them really well now were Harry Potter, The Wind on Fire trilogy (seriously, those three novels may combine to be the single most underrated piece of fiction I’ve ever read, if you enjoy YA fantasy at all, please look up William Nicholson), and everything Tamora Pierce ever wrote. With the Narnia books and the His Dark Materials books slightly behind, in that I don’t remember everything about them now but I did read them a lot of times as a kid so a lot of things about them stick with me. But I digress. The point is that the Arthur books were just some in a long line of fantasy novels I read in those years, and I don’t remember them all that well.

But I do remember that one of those books had one chapter called “Nine”. In that book, Merlin the wizard is talking to some important Christian figure. They’re having some conversation that I’m sure had a lot of depth to it about the magic of religion as the Christian knew it versus the magic of… magic, as Merlin knew it. The Christian guy explained that in his religion, nine is the perfect number. Christianity is based around the Trinity – the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. So if three is Godly, then three threes must be extra Godly. I think I remember the quote: “Three is a divine number, and threefold is nine.”

At the time, my OCD brain was very mixed up with religion. I was raised Anglican. I grew up attending Sunday school three times a week and going into church once a week. Once I became a teenager, I started teaching Sunday school three times a week and going into church once a week. A lot of what I learned there fit right in with my OCD-related issues. My OCD brain told me that if I didn’t tap my leg the correct number of times, then harm would befall my family. My church told me that if I didn’t sufficiently adhere to the teachings in the Bible, then harm would befall my family. So those things got intertwined in my head. For years, one of my strongest compulsions involved prayer before bed. I had this long and complicated prayer that I had to say out loud every night before going to sleep. It was a prayer I’d written myself, trying to cover all the bases of everything I’d learned about the proper way to honour God so harm will not befall one’s family. If I said anything wrong, I had to start over.

After a while, it got to a point at which even if I got interrupted in any way, I had to start over. Which my brother figured out at some point. When we visited our grandparents, which we did a couple of times a year, we shared a room. I told my brother that I was saying my prayers before bed, which made it sound okay. I could never have gotten away with saying, “I have to say this series of words before sleeping because OCD says so.” But I could tell him I was praying. He wasn’t religious – our parents never forced religion on us so they were fine with the fact that I chose religion and he didn’t – but he did at least understand the concept.

At some point, though, he learned that if I was saying my prayers and he said any word, I’d have to start over. He thought that was hilarious, and started using it to mess me up all the time. My whole prayer took about ten minutes to say, and if I were nine minutes in and he said “purple monkey dishwasher”, I’d have to start over. There were times when it took me literally hours to get through it all, and I lost sleep over it. It didn’t bother my brother, since he could lie in bed and be half asleep, just mumbling one word every ten minutes. While I had to spend that entire time on my knees beside the bed, focused and talking out loud, not getting any rest. Because I was convinced that if I didn’t say my prayers properly, God would kill my family.

Okay. There is a point to this story. The point is that, when I was a kid, my OCD compulsions were closely related to religion. So when I read that three is the special Christian number, I took that shit seriously. I developed a compulsive need to do everything three times. Touching things, blinking, swallowing, counting in my head, biting my tongue or my lip. If I said just one word on its own, I’d often have to repeat it twice under my breath. I could sometimes feel okay about doing things only once (sometimes – other times my brain would insist that everything had to be done in multiples of three). But I could never do anything twice. If I tapped my foot twice, I absolutely had to tap it a third time. And sometimes, my brain would decide that three times wasn’t enough, and it would have to do two more sets of three. It would have to reach the number nine before it felt okay. On bad days, I had to count my breaths, dividing those into sets of three in my mind.

I’m thirty years old now. I haven’t been to church in over ten years. There are a number of reasons for that, but those reasons are not the point of this post. I don’t know exactly how I identify now, in terms of religion. Sometimes I like to call myself a “radical agnostic”. Meaning I’m agnostic, but not in a wishy-washy “well, I don’t really know, so I can’t comment on any religious belief” way. My agnosticism takes the form of “I firmly believe that I don’t know if there’s any truth to any spiritual or religious beliefs, and I firmly believe that no one else knows either and anyone who claims to know is full of shit. There’s nothing uncertain about it. I definitely don’t know and you definitely don’t either.”

Anyway. I still have OCD symptoms, but they don’t take over my life as much as they did when I was a kid, and they’re not directly connected to religion the way they used to be. But, to this day, things don’t feel right to me unless they come in threes. Even numbers only feel right to me if they’re a multiple of three. When I see other people with OCD talk about the relatable feeling of having to do everything twice, I can only relate by converting that in my head to “having to do it three times”. It’s just... a weird thing I have because of a fantasy novel I read as a child and a religion I don’t follow anymore. It’s weird how things like that can affect you for so long after they should be gone.

That’s one of the points to this post. The other point is that Jon Richardson once made a documentary that makes me cry.

[teannamon]

Why Do You Think This Would Work? Ch1 [ Taichihaya ]

They should have known that fake dating never goes according to plan. 

In which Mashima Taichi doesn't want to be bothered by his mother's prospects anymore and Ayase Chihaya hates her sister's attempts of finding her a boyfriend.

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

Today was an especially stressful day for Mashima Taichi. He was supposed to clock in early from the hospital but as soon as his shift was about to end one of his patients went into cardiac arrest.

‘Ah I can never get used to emergencies like that’ he thought as he laid on his couch.

Just as he was getting comfortable, his cellphone rang which surprised him. He sat back up and picked up the phone from the coffee table next to him.

“Hello?”

“Ah Taichi, didn’t you read my texts?”

He sighed as he heard his mother, Mashima Reiko, on the other end. As tempted as he is to end the call right then and there, he wouldn’t dare get an angry visit from her instead.

“No, I had to attend to an emergency at the hospital a while ago” he explained “I just got home, what is it?”

“Well there’s a charity gala Mr. Ichido is hosting tomorrow night, maybe you could attend with your father and, you know, mingle with the people there at least”

“Why should I? I don’t have any interest in dad’s company, why aren’t you asking Rika?” he inquired, even though he has an idea of what Reiko is hinting at.

“She’s coming, that’s already a given” there was a small pause before she continued “Mr. Ichido’s daughter is coming to the gala, the one who just came back from the states, maybe you can tour her around Tokyo before she goes back after a week”

‘I knew it’ he said to himself. Ever since he graduated from Todai and immediately got a job as a doctor at the University’s same hospital, Reiko thought she wouldn’t need to worry about her son anymore.

To what she thought that her son would settle down with a woman as successful as he is, she slowly grew worried each day her son doesn’t call her to tell her about a doctor or businesswoman he’s going to marry someday. So for a year now, she’s been trying to connect him with the women in the families they’re connected with so it can ease her anxiety at least.

But Mashima Taichi has been a stubborn bastard ever since he was born.

“Not interested,” he answered coldly and Reiko just had enough of him rejecting every prospect she’s practically thrown at him.

"And why not? Again! might I add"

'This is getting really old' he rubbed his temples trying to calm himself down thinking of another half-assed excuse of not being ready. She was not yet finished talking though.

"And here I thought I can leave you alone to your devices after you've made it as a successful doctor, I can't believe you're making me worry over something you're supposed to have done a long time ago. Up until now I feel as if you’re waiting for me to push you into things that are good for you"

Now Taichi had enough, it's one thing for her to be critical of him being the best but for her to basically call him a dependent idiot is another thing.

"Well haven't you considered that maybe I am dating someone already without your approval?!"

She was taken aback and a million thoughts ran through her head, 'When? How? Who is it? Has she met her before?' But before she could get a word in he ended the call.

"If that's all, good night mom"

After that exchange he went back to lying down on his couch when his phone rang again.

"What?!"

"Ah!" The voice on the other end was startled by his loud reply.

Chihaya nearly dropped her phone when Taichi answered it a little too loudly for her delicate ears.

“Is everything ok, Taichi? What happened?”

“Oh Chihaya, sorry about that” he sighed as he relaxed at her voice on the other end, expecting it to be from his mother.

“It’s fine but could you let me in? I’ve been knocking for the last few minutes and you weren’t answering. I even brought you Daddy Bear Ramen and Snowmaru Ice cream on the way here” she whined as she banged her fist on his apartment door one last time.

Taichi opened the door as he pocketed his phone, “Geez you really are still a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Ignoring his comment, Chihaya walked inside the apartment like she owns the place. Ever since she’s gotten the job as a teacher at Mizusawa High last year, right after getting the Queen title, she’s been in and out of his place because, (a) it's the closest place she can stay at after late nights training at the society and (b) Taichi can drive her to school the next day.

He locked the door behind him as he went to the kitchen where Chihaya most definitely headed to.

Sure enough she’s already filled the instant ramen with hot water and is putting the ice cream in his mini fridge.

“So what crazy limited edition food did you manage to grab this time?” he asked while opening his share of the ramen, looking at the silly Daddy Bear artwork plastered on it.

“If you must know, I found these two at the very back of the shelf at the nearby konbini” she gestured to the two cups of ramen on the table “Can you believe how lucky I was!”

At that instant, Taichi checked the label on the cup to make sure it wasn’t expired. “Thank god you actually checked the labels this time before buying”

“Hey! That was one time ok” she retorted.

“Yeah sure it is” he teased as he took in a mouthful of noodles.

“Keep talking like that and I won’t let you near my Snowmaru Vanilla Ice Cream!” she pointed with her chopsticks.

“Which you stored in MY freezer?”

Chihaya groaned and grumpily ate her ramen.

The rest of their dinner went by as usual, Chihaya telling him how the karuta club they started has been doing so far under her care, her school day activities, and how her training at the Shiranami Society went that night.

Taichi almost forgot about his altercation with his mother that early evening until Chihaya brought up a topic that he’s not particularly fond of but listens to anyway.

“I can’t believe she tricked me into another blind date! I was excited to see her new commercial at the mall when she actually invited me into a double date” she said, a little bit frustrated and exhausted.

Ever since she became Queen last year, she’s been the center of attention of some men in the karuta community and even those outside of it. Her sister, Chitose, then saw an opportunity to play matchmaker with her sister so she can see her have a relationship outside of karuta.

And Mashima Taichi was both scared and relieved. Scared to see Chihaya having a relationship with another person and relieved to see her mature enough to finally fully understand what romantic gestures and relationships are.

It is no secret that Taichi always bore feelings for Chihaya, everyone at Shiranami knows, all their friends from their karuta club knows, Wataya Arata knows, his sister knows, except Chihaya.

“At this point, I might just fake date with the next person she throws at me to get it over with” she half-joked while taking another scoop of her ice cream. “Then everybody is happy, right?”

He inwardly panicked, even a fake relationship is risky, especially for someone like her. They might take advantage of her and they don’t know her like he does. It's not like they can keep up with her antics and airheadedness.

Without even thinking he blurted out, “Just pretend you’re dating me then”

Chihaya stopped midway with her scoop of ice cream, and looked like she’s processing what Taichi just said.

She was silent for a while and he realized what he just said, and just as he was about to brush it off as a joke she slammed her hands on the table a little too hard it shook and spilled the melted contents of her small bowl.

“Taichi! You are a genius!”

-----------

NEXT CHAPTER

-----------

First Chihayafuru fic, hehe... uploaded to both AO3 and FFNet, based on a random fake dating prompt I saw and I was instantly thinking “Taichihaya” so yeah here ya goo

[daddystevee]

Crashing Down

(eventual steve harrington x hopper!reader)

Hah I’ve changed it to just being a Steve x reader fic 😅 Cuz Billy’s not really part of the picture anymore. Anyways hi I’m alive I just haven’t had the motivation to write. Idky. But uh this took me three days to write because I didn’t know how I wanted to write it. I also thought I was gonna be able to get more than one episode in here. I’ve also learned what a ‘slow burn’ fic is and this is indeed a slow burn fic. Anywho enjoy this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy ittt. And as always lmk if you wanna be tagged ;p also I’m sorry that there’s no keep reading mark im uploading from my phone at work and don’t know how to put it there. So I’ll just do it when I get home. Xx

catch up here

Warnings: none really?? Cursing?

Part 7/9?

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Sometimes things just don’t go as planned and your world just come crashing down, but it’s a good thing that you have people in your life to be there to catch you when you fall.

><

You wake up to the sound of your alarm clock going off, signaling that it was time for you to go to work. Rolling over from your stomach you slam your hand down on the noise maker, turning it off.

Not really wanting to get up and go do anything, you lie there in bed for a few extra minutes with your eyes closed. Hoping and praying that today will be a good day.

The thought of working with Steve during your shift makes it a little easier to get out of bed. Finally after procrastinating for what felt like forever you climb out of bed and make your way out of your room.

Upon walking in the kitchen you notice that your dad isn’t asleep on the couch like normal. You walk over to his bedroom door and knock a few times calling out to him. When you receive no answer, you push upon the door to reveal an empty bedroom.

You hum to yourself in annoyance and go to ask the girls if they want breakfast or if they wanna ride to the mall when you head off to work. You’re once again met with silence, so you carry on with your morning.

><

When opening, Steve usually gets there a little bit early, so he can prep everything so before you get there so you aren’t so stressed out. But when you finally get there you notice that all of the lights are still out and the gate is still down, meaning Steve wasn’t there yet.

You lift the gate and go straight to the back to turn the lights on and get ready for the day. After an hour of working alone you start to wonder if Steve was ever going to show up.

‘Maybe he’s just running late..’ you say to yourself quietly and carry on with prepping.

Once it got closer to opening time, and Steve still wasn’t there you decided that it was probably time to give him a call and check on him.

The phone rings and rings and rings a few more times before you hang up and try again. After he doesn’t pick up the second time you call you decide to try Robin.

You call and the phone rings a few times and there’s no answer.

“What the hell?” you say aloud to yourself and you slam the phone back onto the receiver and go back out to the front.

><

After working almost your whole shift on your own you slowly begin to feel overwhelmed.

“I can’t do this all by myself!” you say rather loudly and a few customers turn to look at you but aren’t too bothered by your words.

It was almost closing time anyways, so you did what you needed to do.

You walk over to the window and turn off the ‘OPEN’ sign and go back into the back and start cleaning up while the few people in the store finish eating and leave. As the last customer leaves you run over to the front and pull the gate down before anyone else can wiggle their way into Scoops.

As you walk back into the back room, you start to feel tears form into your eyes due to all of the stress. You brushed them away with the back of your hand and continued cleaning up so you could hurry up and go home.

><

As you were headed to go locked the gate for the evening you thought about what El was up to since she or Max weren't home earlier that morning. You turn around walk back into the back to use the phone to call around and see where they might have ended up.

After a few phone calls you find out that all of the kids along with Nancy and Jonathan are at the Wheeler’s house. But are headed to the Holloway’s house. Instead of going straight home you decide to make an appearance at the Wheeler’s.

><

Just as you pull up to their house they were all walking out of the house and getting into Nancy’s car.

“Hey guys wait up!” you yell as you jog over to the car and climb into the back with Will and Mike.

“So why exactly are we going to the Holloway’s?” you ask as Nancy begins to drive trying to catch up.

“To figure out if Heather and her family are flayed like Billy.” Max says turning around to face you.

“Holy shit..” you say in response.

><

There you are standing in the exact same spot that you were standing in when you broke it off with Billy. You kind of feel bad knowing that the Billy you broke up with wasn’t ‘your’ Billy, but that doesn’t make up for how he had been treating you over the past few weeks.

You wait as Nancy rings the doorbell a few times, then when no one answers El uses her powers to unlock and open the door.

Upon walking in you notice how freezing cold it in and the insane smell of chemicals fills your nose.

“My god, what kind of shits been going on around here?” you ask but mostly to yourself.

You follow as everyone walks into the kitchen, but instead of staying you move on to the dining room.

“Guys!” you say as you notice how the dining room table still has food on it from the other night.

Everyone comes walking through the door and starts examining everything, but notice you crouched down looking at the carpet.

Nancy appears next to you and touches a spot on the carpet,

“Blood” she says softly and turns to look at you before turning to Jonathan.

“Yesterday, Tom had a bandage on his forehead.” Nancy says as you both look at the wine bottle with blood on it. “He was attacked.”

You all walk over to where it looks as if someone had been dragged away and follow the tracks out to the garage where you see the clear signs of someone being kidnapped. After some talking and brainstorming, you all head back out of the house and go to the hospital to somehow get Ms. Driscoll and ‘take her home’.

><

After trying to get everyone upstairs and failing you decide to let Nancy and Jonathan go up to the room and you stay downstairs with the kids.You start to get this feeling that something about being here isn’t right. So you try to figure out a way for you to get upstairs to check on them

It took you a little while, but you finally notice that there is a bathroom down the hall where the elevators are. So you get an idea, and decide to ask where the receptionist where the bathrooms are, you're then on your way upstairs.

As you stepped out of the elevator, you noticed that the hallway was rather empty and awfully quiet. You then saw that some of the lights on patients doors were still flashing red, meaning that there were people who needed to be tended to.

As you carried on down the hallway you heard the sound of running and a loud slam that sounded like someone had slammed a door shut. You sped up and rounded the corner , you saw a man in a white shirt and black pants walking towards the stairwell.

“Hey! Excuse me sir! Is everything okay-” you said but as soon as you started yelling Heather’s father stepped out of one of the rooms and stopped you dead in your tracks as the other man carried on down the stairs.

He had black veins on his forehead, very similar to the veins that covered Billy the previous night in the sauna.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right gorgeous” Tom says as he starts walking towards you in a quick manner.

You turn on your heels and run the other way, heading back to the elevators. You push the button to close the doors as much and as fast as you can as if that will make the doors close faster. Just as Tom comes into sight the doors finally close and you're headed down to the next floor.

The doors open and you step out to see a dead patient and doctor on the ground, soon after you see Jonathan and Nancy run by followed by the man in the white shirt.

You decide to stay put until you hear the elevator doors close and it starts to move. You followed after the three and heard Nancy calling for help coming from one way and loud bangs followed by groaning coming from the other way. You know that Nancy can handle herself well but decided that Jonathan might need some extra help in that moment.

As you slowly and quietly make your way down the hallway you finally come to the room where Jonathan and Tom were. You almost walked directly into the room but quickly slipped back out of the room and peered your head around the corner to watch.

Tom was standing looking over Jonathan before he picked him up and slammed him up against the wall, making him fall down in pain.

You moved back out of sight and covered your mouth with your hand to prevent yourself from gasping too loudly. Tears formed in your eyes and spilt over before you could even register what was happening. You cried quietly into your hand as you looked around the hall to see if there was anything useful.

‘What would Steve do?’ you thought to yourself.

Eyes darting around the hallway until you see one of the IV carriers and run over to it and pick up holding it upside down so the wheels are the point of contact.

“Yeah, this’ll do.”

You backed up against the wall and tightened your grip around the pole, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath in.

Just as you poked your head into the room Jonathan had his head slammed into the ground, knocking him out. Toms back was to you, so you took this as the opportunity to shoot your shot. You held up the IV pole and swung with all your might.

“Eat shit asshat” you spat at Tom.

He turned to look at you but was flung the other way by some force.

Just as you were getting ready to swing again, Jonathan had gotten up and grabbed the scissors that were on the floor and ran at Tom, stabbing him in the chest. His whole face turned black and because of the veins, and he fell to his knees and onto his chest.

Both you and Jonathan did nothing but look back and forth between each other and the now dead Tom on the floor. Just when you thought it was over, the lights started flashing and went out for a brief second. That never meant anything good.

Jonathan put his arm in front of you out of protection when Tom started moving around and his skin started.. Melting?

“Jonathan..” you felt tears form in your eyes as all of the melted skin started to move towards the door.

He turned and looked at you before slowly following it out the door and into the hallway. At the other end of the hallway you see that Nancy was dealing with the same situation. The two giant globs of human flesh met together in the middle of the hallway joining together to make one giant glob of flesh.

It grew bigger and bigger and started growing legs and making noises when suddenly the lights went out, and from the darkness came a loud screech. Tears were now flowing from your eyes from fear.

“Nancy!” you hear Jonathan scream, “Run!”

As Nancy tries running through a door, the boy next to you is trying to distract the ugly creature from devouring his girlfriend. Yelling and making as much noise as possible, but when that doesn’t work he takes off behind it.

You decide to stay put to make sure no other crazy shit sneaks up behind him. You look around and notice a phone on the wall. While keeping an eye on the direction Jonathan went, you run to the phone and call 911 and the phone rings endlessly.

When you had finally had enough of the phone you figure that it would be better to go downstairs and ask for help. You make a dash for the stairwell and run as fast as your feet can carry you. About a flight or two down you run into the kids who were coming up the stairs.

“Oh thank Jesus” you say as you turn back around and head up to where you just came from.

Running in front of the kids you made quick turns down multiple hallways to show the kids where Jonathan was busy trying to break down the window on a door. El walked up to the door and used her powers to send the door flying into the room.

“Jesus”

“What the fu-” you hear both Mike and Max say simultaneously.

El and the monster have a little battle which ends up with the Monster being sent flying out the window and onto the ground outside.

You and the kids run back and down the stairs to go outside to see what was going to happen to the monster, while Jonathan went in the room to check on Nancy. Once you all got outside the glob was making its way to the sewer drain, before disappearing. You turned to look at the others,

“What in the actual fuck?”

What you did know was that this could only the beginning.

Taglist:

@ughhhitsfan @eleventhdoctorsangel @chloe-skywalker

[dreamcatcherjiah]

🌆 Nodus Tollens (Idol!Jin x YouTuber!reader)

Nodus Tollens Masterlist

Part 12

Plot: n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

After such a tiring day, you were really wondering if you were stretching yourself past your limits. Helping your parents at the restaurant had always been your priority, and you would rather quit everything else before leaving them busy and without your help. But days like this really made you question your life choices.

Waking up from a restless sleep so early in the morning to shower and go to class wasn’t your particular cup of tea, but regardless of how tired you felt, you powered on and got ready. Needing something to keep you awake for your morning lessons, you groaned aloud when you realised your tea tin was empty. Your mental notes — buy tea, immediately, you don’t want to repeat the disastrous events of May 6th, 2018 — weren’t working either, it seemed. Your little tin mocked you endlessly, staring back at you from your reflection in its shining bottom. Sigh. Lifting your head, you shifted your eyes to the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where that forgotten packet of instant coffee had been forgotten for nearly as long as you’d lived in that flat. No, you wouldn’t budge. Not even how tired you were would force you to drink that dark and bitter beverage, not for all the money in the world. 

Flash forward to twenty minutes later, and you find yourself in the public bus, with your thermo in hand, filled to the brim with coffee that you obviously hadn’t touched. The universe literally wasn’t in your favour today. Forcing your to drink coffee, the nerve. But it wasn’t so much the coffee, as you looking at your phone to see a text from your mom, asking you to cover for her at lunchtime so she could go to her doctor’s appointment. You were tempted to tell her the truth; that your lessons would finish at half-past two PM, and you were scheduled to meet with Seokjin and Namjoon at three to write the hook of the song you were working on, and two hours later, you had to be back at campus to discuss some aspects of your thesis with your tutor, or else you risked to lag behind and not finish in time. All of this without saying that you obviously needed to finish the cover for Moon that you had promised Jin you would do, and upload another one to your channel taking into account you hadn’t done so in a week. 

Looking out of the window at the moving cars and the busy people, you wondered what your mom would say if you said no. Probably that she understood and that your dad would manage on his own. Not likely. So you wrote back and told her you would be there at two, providing that you left your last lesson a bit before it was over. Then you texted both Namjoon and Seokjin to see if it would be possible to pass the meeting to the late evening after your meeting with your professor, hopefully giving you time to at least upload your cover. Or maybe you would just take your laptop and upload said cover in the restaurant and that would give you time to work in Moon for a while after you got home. 

You arrived on campus and, after getting the green light from both idols, you set about finishing your day as fast as you could. The clock, however wasn’t agreeing with you. The minutes dragged on, and contrary to your normal behaviour, you found yourself nodding off and not focusing in what your professors were saying at all. Your mind kept going back and forth, going over all the things you had to do, fighting sleep because, let’s face it, you hadn’t touched that damned brew and were in the middle of a mental rant, berating yourself for such a petty and stupid behaviour. Caffeine was caffeine, whatever form it came, and right about now you needed it as you needed oxygen. One of those times you nodded off was a bit longer and deeper than the previous times; you were aware that you were in the middle of a lesson, but your clouded mind travelled far, far away, to a reality your mind recognised but you didn’t. 

You were in some park, in front of a large, bright lake. The vision of the water kept glitching in front of your eyes and you tried to blink it away, to no avail. There were many voices surrounding you, joining together to create a cacophony you couldn’t decipher. Light was brightly blinding you and you were just in some sort of limbo, being there and not there at the same time. The shadows of the people whose voices you were hearing kept coming in and out of your vision, like some rewinding VHS movie, confusing you beyond measure but still giving you a sense of nostalgia you couldn’t place. What a strange dream you were having! One of the voices kept coming closer and closer; you could also see their body getting close to yours in their reflection in the lake, and you felt at peace. The deep tones of this person’s sentence were reaching you clearer the closer they got, and you managed to hear some of those words through the calming haze that was your dream. “This was the perfect location, Y/N. The kids are definitely enjoying themselves!” Kids? — you thought, at the same time love filled your every pore.

“Miss Y/N? I would appreciate it if you kept your eyes open during this lecture,” came the voice of the lecturer, and it effectively took you out of your mind. Your cheeks reddening at being caught and being the centre of attention, you nodded your head, keeping your eyes forcibly open for the next hour and a half.

The turn at the restaurant was everything but eventful. The typical kid throwing juice all over the table, insisting that he could feed himself, when his little arms didn’t even reach past the fork. This normally would have made you sigh in frustration, but something made you look at him smiling and wave your hand at his apologising parents, not frustrated at all. Your video was also coming along nicely, a bit slower than you would have liked but by the looks of it, it would be done by the time you had to leave for your appointment at campus. 

After swallowing down a bit of apple pie your mom made, you tidied the tables and helped your dad with the last orders before you picked up your things and went running back to university. Thank the universe this wasn’t the same teacher who had caught you that morning sleeping, because that would have been an awkward conversation to have. Your phone vibrated in your pocket half through the discussion with your tutor, but you opted to ignore it. You would have time later to check it and give the appropriate answer. Not wanting to be rude, you focused all your attention in what your professor was saying and noting down all the reference books he was listing for you to make your research a bit more exhaustive. How much more exhaustive can it get, for the love of pizza? — you thought. Apparently, quite. You left his office with your notebook filled with names and dates, and many more books than you could carry, on your way to your appointment at BigHit. 

It was only 4 PM and you were feeling like your day would never finish. The buses were packed today, and traffic near Gangnam was a nightmare. You had plenty of time before you had to be up in Rkyve studio to do some songwriting, but still, you worried. Out of the three of you, eight if you extended it to the rest of BTS, you were the less busy one; their schedules were a nightmare to work with — Seokjin’s words, not yours — and most of the time they just squeezed you in between practise and some photoshoot or another. So it was completely understandable for you to worry that you were making it even more difficult for them. 

Once you walked all the way to the BigHit building, you were just dragging your feet, tired beyond measure and wanting desperately a place to sit down. You entered the building and entered the code Manager Sejin had given you for when you needed to enter BigHit without one of the members or a manager at least. You waited patiently for the elevator to arrive all the way to the first floor and got it, expecting it to be packed and finding it empty. At least something today was going your way, you had the whole ride to yourself. You smirked and thought how ironic it was; if you didn’t count your dad and your professor, you could count on the fingers of one hand how many more people had interacted with you today. 

A sudden sickening feeling got ahold of you, and you stumbled forward, holding onto the railing to keep yourself upright. Your vision blurred again, and you tiredly thought how this was the second time in a day where you lost control of your own body. 

You were inside the same elevator, or a very similar one and a happy feeling enveloped you, while you looked down. At your feet, holding your leg, was a little child, jumping up and down, making you somewhat unstable on your feet. 

“Calm down, love,” your voice said, but you didn’t remember opening your mouth, “you’ll work yourself into a frenzy and will be tired tonight!”

“Faster! Faster!” Shouted the child, “I wanna see daddy, come on elevator!”

Taking a deep breath you realised the doors of the elevator were opening onto the floor where the reception desk was situated. Shaking your head, you tried to calm your heart, erratic after such a daydream, and moved forward, filing that information for a later inspection. 

Approaching the desk, you nodded towards the man and the woman you had come to familiarise yourself over the weeks. And just when you were about to turn the corner into the studios, they called you over.

“Miss Y/N, did you not receive the texts Mr. Namjoon sent you?” Asked the woman.

Frowning, you buried your hand in your bag and fished out your phone, which you hadn’t checked since earlier on in the day. And there it was the text they were referring to. 

So this was how your day had been. After apologising to the receptionists, you had descended again and called a taxi to take you home. You had finished the cover and sent it to Jin, closed all the blinds and laid in your bed, hoping sleep to claim you even though it was still early. Hoping for calmer, and less weird days to come for you, you closed your eyes and finally relaxed.

A/N: Surprise surprise!! With all the schoolwork I've been buried under, it's a miracle I was able to post this today!! but here you have it!! What do you guys think? Let's chat♥️♥️♥️

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list 🥺

@zxlla @mabel-k3 @twiwwo @crystxljinie @atulipandarose @rjsmochii @expensive-grl @itsjynop @agustdez @salty-for-suga @io-is-lame @hot-tae-with-suga @minluvly

💜🌙

[dear-selena]

All I See (Peter Parker x Soulmate! Reader): Chapter 5

Peter Parker x Reader Soulmate!AU

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Epilogue

Summary: You live in a world where women start to gain color when they meet their soulmate, but they cannot see all the colors at once until they’ve united with them. Peter Parker is your soulmate, but he has no idea. You want to tell him about the colors you see, but are afraid to. Sometimes, girls can be malicious with the soulmate troupe, and you don’t want Peter to think you’re doing the same. So you keep quiet, and experience one color at a time. 

It isn’t until Liz Allan comes in the picture that all you see is green, and you hate it. 

Warnings: Angst, one or two small swear words

A/N: Wow, you guys are incredible! Thank you all for the support you’ve given me so far! I haven’t written in so long, and posting my fan fiction on here was a little nerve wrecking. But I’m so glad I got to share this story with you all! 

This chapter is a lot longer than the previous ones, and I plan on uploading an epilogue to wrap things up, but this chapter should ultimately answer all your questions that I left you hanging on. If there’s something you still want to ask, please hit me up! Otherwise, enjoy the 2nd to final installment of my first Peter Parker fanfiction!

Chapter Five: Intense Colors 

Words: 3217

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

You didn’t leave your house for two days. 

After running away from Peter, you found yourself sobbing into a bathroom sink. With puffy eyes and tear stains stuck on your cheeks, you slowly accepted the blue color you were experiencing. You’ve never seen blue before, as Peter’s never made you sad before. But considering how your confession went and how angry he became, you think you’ll be seeing blue for a long time. 

You ultimately decide to skip the rest of the school day, and sneak off campus to go home early. Normally, you would never rebel like this, but you felt this situation would be an exception. Running off campus, you start the long 30 minute walk home, trying to hold in your tears out in public. However, once you get home, you make a beeline to your room. Despite your house being empty with your parents at work and your siblings not ditching school, you want to shut the world out, especially when they get home. 

You broke into loud sobs as you flung yourself onto your bed, well aware of how obnoxiously dramatic you were acting. All the frustration and emotion you bottled in for so long suddenly flowed out of you, ready to drown anyone close to you. 

Letting out your emotions was important in order to calm down, so you continue to cry into your pillow until you felt you couldn’t cry anymore. After what felt like an eternity (when it reality, it was ten minutes), you found yourself dozing off, tired from everything you’ve experienced today. Within minutes, you were fast asleep. 

A few hours later, you woke up with a startle to your phone furiously vibrating. Your eyes flutter open as you tried to get a bearing of your surroundings, groggy from your nap. You grab your phone to see Peter’s unflattering profile picture light up your screen. 

He was calling you. 

As much as you wanted to answer the phone and hear his voice, as much as you wanted to talk to him and sort things out, you were still utterly overwhelmed over what happened. You didn’t feel you were ready to face him again. 

You didn’t feel you were ready to talk to someone who doesn’t want you. 

You immediately decline the call and quickly turn off your phone, throwing it back on your nightstand and turning over in your bed. You try going back to sleep, but after twenty minutes of frustratingly tossing and turning, you realize your body wasn’t cooperating with you. Sighing with frustration, you get out of bed, and start doing the homework you knew you had. 

For the next two days, you found yourself completely unmotivated to do anything productive. You would wake up for school, but found yourself panicking and your blue vision becoming more intense. It didn’t help that when you turned your phone back on, you found a dozen messages from your friends. 

From: Ned

Hey (Y/N) I heard about what happened… are you okay? 

From: MJ

I’m glad you were able to talk to him, but you’re kind of being ridiculous right now. 

From: Ned 

I’m really worried about you (Y/N)... please call me back when you get the chance. 

From: Peter 

(Y/N) Where’d you go?

From: Peter

Please talk to me. Are you okay?

From: Peter 

Please call me when you’re ready (Y/N). I’m really concerned about you. 

Yeah right Peter… 

Your parents ended up finding you in your distressed state before school was supposed to start, constantly rereading Peter’s messages yet refusing to answer. Embarrassed at how your parents found you, you try to play it off as nothing was wrong and you were just sick. However, your parents could see right through you. Hesitantly, you explained what happened with Peter, your colors, and Liz. They immediately understood. 

“Sweetie it’s okay,” Your parents cooed as they helped calm you from your panic. “Soulmates are destined to work out…” 

Peter said the exact same thing to you. But it just didn’t feel true anymore. 

They wholeheartedly understood your decision to stay home from school that day. Although they started to grow more concerned when you avoided school the next day as well. By the time Thursday rolled around, your parents forced you out of the house. They didn’t want you shutting the world out anymore. They wanted you to face your issues head on. 

As much as you wanted to argue with them, they did have a point. 

You make it to school that Thursday morning, extremely aware of everyone’s eyes on you. Everyone looks so different now they were blue, and it was still unsettling to see this color. But you need to get used to this color. After all, you knew you’d be seeing it for a long time. 

Things went well during the first half of the school. Teachers caught you up with your lessons and you simply focus on note-taking and getting to your classes on time. You didn’t see any of your friends yet, and for the classes you had with Peter, you manage to get to class very last minute so you could avoid him at all costs. Eventually, lunch rolls around and you start walking to the cafeteria. While thinking about what slop you wanted to eat for lunch, you look up to see Peter talking to Liz. For a moment, your vision turns into a very familiar shade of green, but slowly fades back into the blue you’ve seen for days. You knew you should have expected to see them together, but it still made you a little sad to see your soulmate with someone else. 

Who are you kidding, you were absolutely heartbroken. 

Peter turns his head and his gaze locked on you. Your eyes go wide and you feel your body go completely numb, your vision changing colors instantly. You saw pink, yellow, and blue fight for dominance as Peter’s eyes widen, putting his full attention on you. All you wanted was to run into his arms, hold him close, and apologize to him over and over again, hoping he would forgive you. However, blue won the battle, and engulfs your vision once again, reminding you of the emotions you were still fighting to hide. 

Before Peter could react, you found yourself running away from the cafeteria. You keep running until you suddenly found yourself in front of the school library. Without hesitation, you walk into the library, and spent your lunch period there. 

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

For the following two weeks, you commit yourself to an unhealthy cycle. You’d arrive at school at the last minute just to avoid running into Peter before class. For every class you had with Peter and Ned, you’d get to class last minute and sit close to the door, so that when class was over, you could run out and dodge them. You weren’t sure if they actually paid attention to you, but from the uncomfortable tingling you felt on the back of your neck during class, you knew they noticed you. 

During lunch you’d go to the library instead of the cafeteria, diving back into reading as a way to distract yourself. Getting through a majority of the reading your english teacher recommended, you found that you thoroughly enjoying these books. Reading was something you wished you had more time for but unfortunately, school took a lot of your free time away. 

At this point, your unhealthy routine started to feel natural, and you almost forgot why you were acting this way. But the blue that engulfed your vision was a constant reminder of how your soulmate made you feel. You really wanted to make things right, but you honestly didn’t know how. Communication was obviously not your strong suit, and you were tired of making things worse. 

On Wednesday, you were doing your avoidance routine as usual, showing up to class last minute, and leaving right when the bell rang. When lunch rolls around, you grab your lunch from your locker and make your way to the library per usual. However, when you approach the table you usually occupy, you suddenly stop dead in your tracks. Reading a book, right in front of you, in the chair you’ve claimed for the last two weeks, the one and only Peter Parker sat lacking concentration. Your eyes widen as you took a good look at your soulmate that you’ve been avoiding. He was turning the pages of his book, practically skimming the contents. His right leg shook underneath the table and he bit his bottom lip back. His left hand was in his hair, his head resting against it uneasily. If you were reading things correctly, you’d assume he was nervous. 

What does he have to be nervous about?

Before he could see you, you turn around and start walking away. Without looking back, you thought you were in the clear. However, a hand suddenly lands on your left shoulder and you turn around to see Peter staring at you with deep concern. 

“(Y/N),” Peter whispers pleadingly. “Can we go talk somewhere private?” 

You look into his eyes, your vision suddenly turning purple and your hands starting to shake. Trying to avoid his eyes was nearly impossible, as you were mesmerized by his stare. You haven’t actually taken a good look at him since you ran from him two weeks ago, and it was completely overwhelming to have him suddenly in front of you. You knew he was angry at you, that much was clear, but as he held your shoulder with security and pleadingly staring at you, something inside of you melted. 

“...okay,” You hesitantly say, unsure if your voice was audible. 

Peter nods his head and starts to walk out of the library, letting go of your shoulder. In a trance, you follow closely behind him, staring at him in disbelief. Peter walks forward, but looks behind himself to make sure you’re still following him. As much as you want to run, you knew avoiding Peter was only making things worse. As much as you didn’t want to talk to him yet, you knew he was ready to talk to you.

As much as you didn’t want to confront your soulmate, you knew he at least deserves a chance to tell you why he doesn’t want you. 

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

Peter led me to the parking lot outside the school’s entrance. 

Sitting next to him on the curb, you found yourself lost in thought. For the longest time, there was silence between you two. You look down at your shoes, refusing to glance at your soulmate. From the corner of your eye. You could see that Peter was in the exact same position as you. 

Crazy thoughts ran through your mind as your vision turns purple. Did Peter want to explain why he wanted to be with Liz? Did Peter want to talk about the soulmate thing and let you down easy? Did Peter feel bad for you? Either way, you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety going through the roof. 

“What color do you see?”

Your head jerks towards Peter at his sudden question. He still looks down, but lifts his head up slightly to make eye contact with you. As your brain processes that he was actually talking to you, you study his features that you secretly miss. Even though you wish you weren’t here, you’ll admit you  miss seeing Peter and talking to him. You miss talking to him everyday and hanging out with him and Ned. You knew you were putting yourself through a lot of grief avoiding him, but you felt your guard completely break down in front of him. 

“Purple.” You look back down at your shoes. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I’m scared…” You felt some tears fall. 

Peter puts his full attention on you. “(Y/N), What are you scared of?” 

Your hesitation was obvious. You muster all the courage you have and look up at him. “I don’t know what’s about to happen.” 

Peter nods his head and looks back down, thoughts obviously running through his own mind. When he’s ready however, he looks back up at you. “I get that. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure what’s about to happen either.” He laughs at himself, but you don’t find anything funny. “How are you doing?”

You look down and shake your head, trying to stop the tears from falling. “Honestly, it’s been hard… accepting everything and all.” 

Peter nods his head. “Same here. I wish you just talked to me earlier you know?” 

More tears fall out, despite your denial. “I know I’m so sorry Peter. I knew about what happened with you and Gwen way before you told me about it and I didn’t want to freak you out. I thought if I told you about it, you’d think I was lying and hate me. I wanted things to happen naturally but I was too late.” You take a deep breath, ready to accept the consequences of your actions. “But it’s more important for me to support you. If you rather be with Liz I totally understand. She’s a gorgeous girl and I don’t know her well, but I think she’ll be good for you. You deserve someone who cares about you, and I hope you find what you’re looking for with her.” 

Peter’s face morphs into a look of utter confusion. “(Y/N), what the hell are you talking about?” 

You quizzically look at him, Your vision going back to blue. “... Don’t you like Liz?” 

Peter immediately smacks his face in frustration. “Oh my god (Y/N), you’ve got to be kidding me!” Your eyes widen suddenly but he looks back up at you. “I mean, yeah, I liked Liz. But she’s not my soulmate.” 

You open your mouth in shock, but before you can comment, he continues to talk. 

“I believe you (Y/N), I believe that you’re my soulmate.” 

You look at him in disbelief as you finally let the tears flow, a warm fuzzy feeling erupting in your chest and your vision turning pink. Bringing your knees close to your chest and hugging your legs, you try to contain your emotions. Peter continues to look at you with concern, patiently waiting for your response. 

“What about you and Liz?”

Peter sighs. “Honestly, there really isn’t anything anymore. I ended up telling her about you and the colors you saw because of me, and she opened up to me about how she met her soulmate back in Seattle. She just doesn’t like the type of person he is, so she’s trying to avoid him at all costs. She asked me if I still wanted to go on a date with her, but I told her I’d rather be with my soulmate.” 

“Then why did you yell at me when I confessed?” 

“Because you waited to tell me!” Peter ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been best friends for months, but you knew from the moment you met me that you were my soulmate and you didn’t tell me. I didn’t realize you saw different colors depending on what I did or how I made you feel. I’ve always wanted my soulmate to be honest with me from the start, but you didn’t say anything and thinking about that drives me nuts. Not gonna lie, I was angry at you. In fact, I’m still a little angry. I hate that you kept this from me.” 

You shrink into yourself, burying your head into you knees and mumbling an “I’m sorry”. 

“Hey, Hey, Hey,” Peter quietly says as he slides to put his arm around you, rubbing his hand on your arm to try and soothe you. You find yourself leaning into his embrace, ultimately realizing how much you love being in his presence. “Yes, I’m still a little worked up right now. But that doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you.” 

You look up at him, the pink becoming more intense. “I like you (Y/N), I have for a while now. I honestly wondered if you were my soulmate, but I thought you would have told me a while ago, so I was just happy to be your best friend. When you told Ned, MJ, and I at lunch that you had a soulmate, I honestly thought it couldn’t have been me. I mean, how could a guy like me, awkward and nerdy, be destined to someone as wonderful and beautiful as you?” He laughs at himself again, this time in disbelief. 

“Peter! Oh my god no!” You put your hand on his cheek and he looks at you once again. “You’re literally the sweetest person I know. You’re so caring and understanding and I really like how smart you are. You help me when I need someone and I’m so thankful to you. I just want to help you when you needed someone too. Not only that, you’re constantly protecting the city, much to the purple I see when you go out.” Peter and you chuckle at that. “I’m glad that I have a soulmate that’s so wonderful, and not to mention, cute as hell.” 

Peter laughs as he takes your unoccupied hand in his. “You can talk to me when things are good, but avoid me when things are bad?” He laughs as you feel a blush cross your cheeks. 

“Yeah… you know I don’t do well when bad things happen.” 

“Oh trust me (Y/N), I really know that now. Especially after these past two weeks.” Peter stops talking for a moment and the both of you embrace each other after a long awaited reunion. “Honestly, I’m still upset about what happened. I don’t like how you completely avoided me.” 

You look at Peter sadly. “I’m sorry, that’s just what I do. I didn’t know how to approach you. Is there anything I can do?”

Peter shakes his head. “No, I think it’ll take time for me to forgive and forget. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave your side now.” You look at him quizzically. “We have so much to catch up on! I want to learn more about my soulmate!” 

You look at him happily, completely in shock of what’s happening. Before you knew it, Peter cups your cheek again and leans in quickly, kissing you for the first time. His lips are soft and sweet, and your body turns to putty as he moves his lips with yours. When he pulls away, he puts his forehead on yours, and you open your eyes to see him smiling at you with the most intense shade of pink you’ve seen thus far. 

You spend the rest of the lunch period in Peter’s embrace, the two of you kissing constantly and just reminiscing in each other. It wasn’t until you hear the bell ring that you two hesitantly got up and went back to school. For the rest of the day however, you couldn’t focus, as you couldn’t stop thinking about how your soulmate came back into your life. You didn’t think you’d ever see pink again. But like your parents and Peter said before, soulmates are destined to work out. 

And you couldn’t wait to grow with him.

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

-Tagged List-

@peteerrpaarkerr // @littlemissporter // @the-soulless-spider // @fakindob // @stuckonpeterparker// @godhatestarynn // @itsjustahuman // @saxgirl21// @freestarlight // @clara-licht // @cats-before-us // @horanxholland // @thenerdiverse // @roseryss // @ohbabycal // @superwholock36 // @famouslastlove // @azgucci // @invisiblelakes // @lost-in-translating // @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash// @jillanaholland // @iamanerdnot // @disgustangg// @imcharishope // @dehughgrection // @spider-manholland // @sellulii // @falskaprofeter // @jackiehollanderr // @holland-tingz // @discodeakky// @my-suga-kookies // @quicksilverandspiderlokipokidoki // @tomshufflepuff // @134340-cm // @am-scray-punk // @mercurybarnes // @andreuskystuff // @l-ivingformendes // @fantastic-fans // @orighami // @eridanuswave // @starksthunder // @stylexgirl // @muggleings // @dark-night-sky-99 // @petertingle-96

-Peter Parker Tag List-

@sweetcoffeeblandtea // @house-arya // @jovialpeanut 

-Permanent Tag List-  

@mindset-jupiter // @romance-geek // @imcharishope // @fakindob // @cutiekoa

[musingsofsaturn]

Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter Four

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: T for mentions of alcoholism

This Chapter’s Word Count: 1,900+

Summary:  Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard’s life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn’t anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

Author’s Note: Hi folks, apologies for leaving it so long between chapters - it's been a bit of a manic weekend! (The exact reason I never set scheduled upload days - life has a habit of getting in the way!) I hope this chapter is worth the wait. Thank you so much for your support on this so far, It's always greatly appreciated! :)

~ Saturn

[Photo from Serious Eats. The recipe to accompany this chapter is Green Chilli Chocolate Pie. Looks yummy!]

The waiting room’s seats were hard and cold, and Anna found herself reflecting on how unwelcoming that felt as a patient. She was feeling nervous about what the upcoming appointment might reveal about the health of her and her baby, and her mind raced with apprehensive thoughts of what was to come with the pregnancy, and eventual child. The last thing she needed right now was an uncomfortable chair.

“Anna Westergaard?” Kristoff’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she got to her feet to follow him.

As they settled into their respective seats, Anna basked in the feeling of friendly familiarity she found herself experiencing with him. He’d been coming into The Snøffnug Café at least once a week for a slice of pie, cup of coffee, and a quick chat with Anna and the other two waitresses. Even Cliff had begun to give the doctor a friendly greeting and occasional discount when he visited.

“How are you doing today, Anna?” he asked her, friendly but professional.

“I’m doing alright. I feel good, no uncomfortable symptoms. Well, a little bit of morning sickness, but it’s not severe or anything.”

He nodded as he quickly typed up some notes on her answer. “The sonographer at the hospital forwarded me a copy of your scan – did you decide to find out the sex or are you keeping it as a surprise?”

“I don’t want to know,” Anna replied. “I just call it- uh, them ‘baby’.” Her hand subconsciously made its way to her belly, where a small bump was beginning to surface, just little enough for it to still be her secret, though she knew that would soon change.

“Alright, ‘baby’ it is.” His eyes were twinkling with the knowledge of a secret, and Anna couldn’t help but smile. “If you could just hop on the bed for me, and I’ll have a quick measure so we can see how baby’s growing.”

No one would have ever accused Anna of being graceful, and she demonstrated that perfectly as she clumsily mounted the bed. She tried not to move the paper that had been placed down on it, and as a result her movements looked as awkward as they felt. Kristoff was kind enough to pretend not to notice, but Anna couldn’t help but grimace inwardly.

To distract herself from the embarrassment she felt, Anna found herself asking, “So what made you transfer to Småby Bend anyway? You’ve never said.”

Kristoff had just turned to her after rummaging in his desk drawers for a tape measure, and Anna noticed the flicker of hesitation that came across his features. He quickly recovered though, and she thought she might have made it up.

“Oh, it’s kind of a long story. I’ll try to give you the Sparknotes version.” They shared a grin, and he quickly asked her permission to lift her top so he could measure her tummy. She consented, and he went on, “I, uh, I’m actually married. I don’t wear the ring anymore because we’re… separated, I guess? We got married just after I qualified, so like two years ago. Which is a very short time to be married, but apparently long enough for her to realise that she’d actually rather be with someone else, so…”

Anna kept silent as he spoke. His hands on her stomach were warm, and ever so gentle as he carefully measured the small bump from top to bottom. She felt her heart beating faster as he leaned in close to read the numbers on the tape measure. Nervously, she suppressed that feeling as far to the back of her mind as she possibly could.

“I didn’t even see it coming.” He laughed, but there was a great sadness in it. “She just came home from work one day, told me she didn’t love me anymore, and that she was leaving me to be with her best friend.”

In a whisper, Anna let out a soft: “I am so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was for the best. She’s happier now than she ever was with me, and it’s better to have split up early than to keep up a façade for decades. But I couldn’t stay where we’d started to build a life together, so I went looking for a new job, and it turned out that Småby Bend was in need of a doctor, so here I am!” He paused, glancing up at her in a way that made her think that he was debating whether or not to carry on. “I like it here. It’s a beautiful little town, and it’s got everything I need. The people here are… really lovely as well.” Anna couldn’t ignore the warmth in his expression, but she dismissed the notion that it was for her.

“For what it counts, I’m glad you ended up here.” She meant it.

Standing upright, Kristoff cleared his throat. “Baby’s growing perfectly. Just the size I’d expect them to be at this stage.” He turned around so she could readjust her top to cover her tummy up again, and she heard him typing up something into her notes once more. When he finished, he reached for a blood pressure cuff and turned back to her. “We can take your blood pressure while you’re still lying down, it’s easier for you.”

Not for the first time, Anna recognised how respectful and caring he was towards her. Of course, he was a doctor, so it was to be expected, but she still appreciated how he respected her body and her privacy, and wanted to make these appointments as non-invasive and easy as possible. Her instincts had told her the first time she met him that he was someone she was safe with. Maybe it was that sense of safety, or the idea that she had to reciprocate his honesty, but she started to speak.

“Hans wasn’t always a drinker. We started dating in high school, so obviously he wasn’t drinking then. I’d had a crush on him for years; he was so handsome, and sweet, and funny.” She smiled to herself. “When he asked me out, I thought I was so happy that I thought I was going to faint. He was so nice to me, you wouldn’t believe. My mama died when I was sixteen, and he was right there to support me through it. What teenage boy can take that responsibility?

“Did you know Småby Bend used to have a cloth manufacturer? It was a factory for knitting wools and fleeces and stuff for blankets.” Kristoff nodded that he knew what she was referring to, and Anna went on, “Hans worked there after graduation, six days a week for seven whole years. It paid for our wedding, for the house, and all the little things we needed. And I worked in the café, just to keep myself busy more than anything.

“The businesses that used the factory’s supplies weren’t happy with their profit margins, though. Not only could they get the same material cheaper from elsewhere, but we’re so ‘middle of nowhere’ that we were really hard for them to get to so they could pick up their stuff. So more and more companies stopped buying from Småby Bend, and eventually they just closed the factory altogether.

“We’d only been married for two months, but after that, Hans was miserable. He felt useless, like a failure, and he used to have a drink every night to take the edge off his worrying. Then he started drinking through the day too, and now I think he drinks more beers than he does water.”

Kristoff hadn’t moved while she was telling him all this, but he carefully stepped towards her now to begin sliding the blood pressure cuff up her arm.

“It’s been four years since the factory closed. Now he’s got a job at the garage, but he still drinks every day. Sometimes I think that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to anymore. It makes him angry. The world makes him angry; he feels lost, and not himself, I can tell. And I make him angry sometimes. Some of the things I say, or do, just… I piss him off. I don’t mean to, but I do.”

She was finished, and she knew that Kristoff picked up on that, although he didn’t say anything. In silence, he filled the cuff with air, before taking the reading and going to write it down.

“Your- the reading suggests that your blood pressure is a little low,” he said eventually. “It shouldn’t be too serious, but just to make you aware.”

“Okay, thank you,” she answered politely. She didn’t like this new way they were speaking to each other. It felt so professional, so distant. “I brought you a pie,” she told him at last. “‘Death by Chilli Chocolate’. It’s a new recipe I’m testing out, so I want to know what you think of it.”

“I’ll be sure to stop by with my critiques.” He smiled at her, and she basked in the warmth of it. “That’s it for today, you can hop down whenever you’re ready.”

She got up quickly, too quickly. The dizziness hit her like a sack of bricks, and she felt herself losing her balance. The ground seemed to be galloping up towards her as the room spun, and she cried out as she realised that she was falling.

Strong arms on her own helped her to regain her balance. Kristoff’s grip was firm as he steadied her, and her dizziness slowly receded as he held her upright. She looked up at his face, meeting his concerned gaze as she came back to herself.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” She made no move to step away from him, and neither did he.

They could have pretended that they stayed that close for that long simply because they were concerned. He could say that he was keeping hold of her to make sure she was fully recovered before he let go. She could have said that she still felt dizzy, and she needed his strength to steady her.

But that wouldn’t have explained why his hand went to her face, gently brushing aside a piece of hair that had come loose when she lost her balance. That gentleness was magnetic to Anna. She stepped closer to him, so close she could feel his breath on her.

“Anna,” he murmured, “You deserve so much more than a husband who doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have you.”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t even think. Instead, she moved her hands to his shoulders, rising to tip-toe even as he leaned down towards her. Kristoff’s hand cupped her face and his arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer to him and making butterflies flutter in her stomach. Her heart was pounding, and the room was spinning for an entirely different reason than before. It felt as though every moment in her life had been leading to this one, here, with her leaning in desperately to kiss Kristoff Bjorgman.

A knock on the door caused them to jump apart mere milliseconds before their lips met.

“Come in,” Kristoff called, startled but recovering now that they were separate.

A nurse opened the door, and Anna didn’t hear a word they said as she fumbled with her bag, placing the cake tin she’d brought for him on his desk. Her fingers were shaking as she buttoned up her coat, and when the nurse left, she all but ran from the room.

Next Chapter

[melikeylikeyjimin]

Noir || Eleven

(I don’t own this gif)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Mafia AU! Sugar Daddy AU! Jungkook X Reader, fluff, angst.

Warnings: none

A/N: Here is the eleventh chapter of Noir! YAY for the first meeting and date! I might be a bit busy this week and next week so updates might be a bit slow! Thank you for your patience ahead of time. In return, I have written a JK one shot that I hope will satisfy all of you while you wait! I’ll upload it sometime later this week! If you’d like to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter of Noir, please DM me, leave a comment on this post, or send an ask and I’ll add you to the list!

Tag List: @yeontanie21 @moniebuns @writemywaytoyourheart @flamingorosette @trueelee-dj @melonkooky @kawaiimusiccollection @selugis @ellsbells72 @shadowstark @fluffybunnybaekhyun @geekyfangirl-rikachuchanx777

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

“So, why did you call me over exactly?” Nicci asked uninterested.

I sighed, “You know very well why I called you over! I told you the very night he asked me to dinner that I needed your help picking an outfit.”

“Oh yeah, you’re having dinner with your lover boy, right?”

I rolled my eyes, “Nicci, please?”

“Alright, alright. What time do you have to be there?”

“Six thirty.”

“Alright, so I have to make you perfect obviously. You need the money and I can’t send you out looking like...well...you.”

I glared at her, “There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable!”

“Righttt,” She said as she browsed throughout my closet trying to find the perfect outfit. “Where are you going?”

“Some fancy dinner place, it was in French so I wouldn’t know how to pronounce it even if I wanted…”

Nicci whipped her head around, “Wait, are we talking about the same restaurant? Show me the text!” I showed her the location and she squealed, “You lucky ass bitch! He’s taking you to the best restaurant in the entire country! You better give out as payment. Do whatever he asks!”

“Nicci!”

“What? He’s treating you like a fucking queen, so do the same!”

I ignored her comments and let her go back to picking an outfit. “Now that I know you’re going there, I’m more interested.”

She found an emerald green gown that went down to my ankles and was strapless but had sleeves over the tops of my arms. She laid it on my bed and found some black strappy heels, setting it next to the dress.

“Go get dressed in that, and then we’ll talk hair, makeup, and accessories.”

I normally would fight her, but I decided not to bother. She wouldn’t let me get out of this even if I tried. I sighed and took the dress and heels into the bathroom with me and undressed. I slipped my feet into the dress and pulled it over my torso. I put my arms through their little sleeves and moved my hair to the side to zip up the dress. I zipped it up and situated my hair again. I sat down on the bathtub’s side and slipped my feet into the heels, zipping the backs up.

I looked at my reflection one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. Nicci’s eyes flew to my body as she drank in the look. “Why don’t you give up on being a doctor and instead be a glorified escort or trophy wife?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re smoking!” I ignored her comment and sat down at my makeup table, letting her take over. She started putting light waves into my hair, making sure that everything looked natural and loose.

Once she had finished that, she started on my makeup. She chose a few different shades of brown to match with the green of the dress, going for a beautiful but not heavy look.

Suddenly I heard my phone go off. I had Nicci grab it and tell me who was calling me, “It’s Dylan!”

“Shit, what should I do?”

“You have to lie, Y/n! I did not spend so much time on your look and getting you to finally do this just for Dylan to try to cockblock you!”

I nodded and answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n!” Dylan called out from the other side of the line.

“What’s up?”

“I was thinking we could go out tonight and get food and walk around town! What do you think?” I looked at Nicci and she shook her head saying I had to give an excuse.

“I’m sorry I can’t tonight.”

“What? Why not? Do you work? I can just visit you if that’s it.”

“No, no, I don’t work, I just have a lot of assignments I need to work on.”

“Well, I could help you?”

“We both know I won’t get work done if you come over,” I sassed.

He scoffed, “Fine I see how it is. Guess you really hate me.”

I sighed, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can hang out another day. I’ll let you know when I can, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Alright, I gotta go, bye!”

I hung up and set the phone down. It was silent until Nicci broke the silence, “Where do you keep your jewelry?” I pointed to a small box on one of my dressers and she moved to sort through it. She grabbed a pair of dangly silver earrings and a nice silver necklace that would hang perfectly over my bare upper torso. I put the earrings in my ears as she latched the chain on my neck.

  “Do you have some purses too?”

I nodded, “In the closet.”

She sorted through them, “I don’t get it, you have a bunch of fashionable things, yet you never wear them.”

“I save it, doesn’t mean I have to wear them all the time.”

Nicci scoffed but continued searching through my numerous purses. She finally handed me a plain black clutch that matched my heels perfectly. “There, you are done!”

I looked at myself in the body mirror and admired Nicci’s work. “Thanks as always, Nicc.”

“Of course, I may not be a professional makeup or hair artist, but it’s one of my favorite pastimes, so it’s nice to experiment on people that aren’t me.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter to six.”

“Alright, I should get going then,”  I said.

Nicci nodded in agreement, “Make sure to tell me what goes on!”

I smiled, “Of course, you’re the only one who supports this decision, so it’s only wise I tell you what happens.”

“You got it, girl.”

I ordered an uber to take to the restaurant that I was supposed to meet Jungkook at. It was in the center of the city so it would take thirty minutes to get there. The uber got there a little bit before six and I had already sent Nicci back home and texted Jungkook that I was leaving the house.

I got in and told the driver the address. As we drove, I looked out the window as I tried to calm my nerves. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, but I had just hoped that Jungkook was all that he was behind the screen. I had seen multiple pictures of him so I knew his face well, but that didn’t mean I knew if he had a completely different personality offline. I played with my hands in my lap as we continued to make our way down the different streets of downtown.

I looked around at the flashing lights and the illuminated sidewalks filled with people of all ages. They were all conversing and talking to one another. Some outside of restaurants enjoying the warm nighttime temperature, others smoking and laughing, and many people walking around with groups of friends from store to store.

It had been a while since I went downtown to do anything fun. The drive is not always the best from my apartment to downtown, the traffic had never been nice either. Over the past few years, the city had become increasingly populated without the correct amount of lanes or streets towards downtown as needed for the abundance of people living in it. The city had changed so much over the many years I spent living here. It used to be much more calm, with the regular sports events and musicals, but now it had become a big party central. Strip clubs and bars lining the streets.

Driving past the craze, we finally got to the nicer part of downtown. Where all the rich lived comfortably, close to all the top rated restaurants, stores like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Versace. The options were endless. This part of the city was always much more hush. People conversed but it was not yelling and laughter like the other part of downtown. There was a clear distinction between normal people and the rich.

Seeing the restaurant in my sight, I waited for the uber driver to pull up to the front of it. He did and I gave him the fare for the drive there. Checking the time, I made sure I was not late and thankfully I was five minutes early. I walked in feeling more than slightly out of place in this time of crowd but tried to push past it. I walked up to the hostess and she gave me a glance over. It was as if she was checking out my clothing to see if they were high class, expensive brands. I smiled as I tried not to think too much about her obvious judgment of me, “Hi, I have a reservation for 6:30 for Jeon Jungkook.”

The lady’s eyes seemed to panic at his name. I frowned ever so slightly at her face wondering why she seemed so panicked. “O-oh, y-yes. Right this way Mrs. Jeon,” she stated. I was ready to correct her as there was no way Jungkook and I were married since we hadn’t even met yet, but I decided not to waste my breath.

She led me to a secluded part of the restaurant that seemed like it could be rented out for private parties. Behind a velvet red curtain, I saw a man sitting at a table. “Here you are, miss. Please enjoy.” The hostess’s voice caught the man’s attention and I was met with a deep dark abyss.

His eyes were piercing right through me, not letting me move or even form coherent sentences in my head. He was breathtaking. His dark hair that was parted and pushed up slightly, his piercing yet doe-like eyes, and his thin beautiful lips. I was speechless. He looked even better in person than he did in photos. The air in my lungs was gone as I continued to stare at him. How could he possibly be interested in someone like me when he was walking around looking like that?!

He finally smiled and stood up, “I’m so glad you could make it, Y/n. Please have a seat.” I knew all too well that I would not be able to speak so I nodded my head, or at least I tried my best to. I moved and sat in the soft cushioned seat opposite of him. It was easily the most comfortable thing I had ever sat on in all my life. He moved my chair, pushing it in for me. I let out a meek thank you at his gentlemen like gesture. “Is something wrong?” He asked taking his seat again.

“A-ah, no, it’s just you’re even better looking in real life than you are in the pictures,” I said as confidently as possible.

He smiled, “Thank you for the compliment. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, so I’ll go ahead and introduce myself. I am Jeon Jungkook, the same guy you have been talking to over the phone for a little bit. It is nice to meet you, Y/n. You are even more stunning in person than over any photo you’ve sent me.”

I swallowed hard knowing very well my face was extremely flushed, “T-thank you. Um, I’m y/n as you know. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally…”

“I can tell you’re nervous, but hopefully that will dissipate throughout the night.” I nodded. “Would you like some wine?”

“Yes, I think that would be helpful.” I knew very well I would need liquid courage running through my veins in order to be normal. He ordered over a waiter that I had not even seen waiting and asked for a bottle of red wine that I did not know the name of.

Once there was wine in my glass, I took a sip and could feel the small burn help rid of my nerves. “So,” I started, “Where would you like to begin?”

“I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but why don’t you go ahead and explain what you do, your hobbies, anything you think is individual to you.”

I nodded my head, “Well, I’m a college student. I am in my third year of college and I dream to become a doctor. I really like the idea of helping others, I don’t necessarily have a certain field that I study as far as medicine goes, but I like the idea of being able to have a purpose or have the power to help or even change someone’s life. I don’t have much free time between college and work, but I enjoy I think anything else a girl my age does. I like staying in and reading, going out with friends, movies, those kinds of things. I’m not really special I don’t think but I enjoy what I study and do with my free time nonetheless.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I work part-time at a cafe near my house as a barista and waitress. It’s not what I want to do but it pays for some things and I like the people I work with, so…”

Jungkook’s face had not changed all throughout my explanation of my current life. It was odd that he seemed to find it interesting as I didn’t think there was anything particularly special to me. Many other girls had a more interesting life than I did. “I guess it’s my turn then?” I nodded happily. Jungkook even over text never talked much about work, but I figured it had to do with not wanting to brag over it or bore me.

“Well, I’m a CEO for the Jeon company and I work under my father, but I, for the most part, do all the work now as he is mostly retired. I don’t have much free time either with all the work, but I enjoy spending time taking pictures and making videos and gaming. I’m quite boring as you can see, so there isn’t much to say about myself.”

I smiled, I could see the happiness in his eyes as he talked about his hobbies. They were something that he obviously really enjoyed. “I would love to play some video games with you sometime” I spoke softly.

His face softened at my words, “I’ll definitely let that happen.” I took another sip of my drink. “Are you ready to order?”

I nodded my head, “What do you usually have here?” He rattled off multiple different dishes that I didn’t know how to pronounce or even know what they entailed.

I laughed embarrassed, “I’m going, to be honest with you, I don’t know much of what you said so I’m going to leave it to you to order whatever you think I’d like.”

He let out an authentic laugh, “Don’t feel embarrassed, I get it.” I grinned and he waved over the waiter. He let our orders slip off of his tongue easily as the waiter bowed and left. “I don’t know if it’s too early for you, but I’d like to talk about why we’ve both come here tonight.”

I nodded knowing the topic was bound to show up eventually, “You can ask whatever questions you have.”

“I only have one, but it won’t really change my decision on the matter. You, of course, don’t have to answer it if you don’t feel comfortable, but why?”

“I won’t tell you a big sob story as to why I need money, other than money is difficult to come by without a college degree. I pay for my rent, food, living expenses, transportation, and my college. I just thought it would be nice to make more money on the side to help myself out.”

“What about your parents?”

“We don’t have a good relationship,” I answered simply. I wasn’t about to go into detail about my parents. They were still a heavy topic for me that I would rather not think about.

“That’s fine, I don’t expect more. But I already made my decision many nights ago about you. I want to support you for whatever reason it is you need money.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m genuinely intrigued by you and would like to continue this.” I could almost scream from excitement.

“Are there any like conditions?”

“Not really, I’ll just pay you for each date we go on. I’m not going to force you into anything non-consensual, so if spending time together is all you want, then that’s all we’ll do.”

“Okay, yeah that’s fine with me too.”

“Is one okay?”

“One?”

“One thousand each date or time we hang out.” My eyes bulged out of my head as I heard this.

“A-are you serious?”

“Is it not enough? I can add more if you nee-”

“No, no! Not at all. In fact, I’m surprised you’re giving so much.”

“I don’t really think it’s that much, but if that amount is fine, then…”

“It’s more than okay. I don’t know what to say, thank you so much.”

“I’m glad I can help you out.”

The food arrived and I saw a form of pasta sitting in front of me. I smiled at the dish and took the first bite as we both sat in comfortable silence as we ate. The dinner had gone well and I couldn’t wait for our future dates together.

NEXT PROJECTED UPDATE: 06/18/19 (This is a very very very rough estimate! It all depends on how busy I am throughout the week and weekend, but I will try my hardest for you guys!)