#how to lose the most pounds by christmas

[fashionably-forgetful]

Weight loss stuck? You may have a toxic fatty acid that blocks weight loss. 

According to Newcastle University in England, this fatty acid forces fat cells to stream into your blood…  And causes your body to pack on internal visceral fat.  Once this happens, your fat-burning metabolism slows down to a crawl… your hormones completely shut down… and your body stores fat instead of burning it as energy.  Fortunately, a renegade doctor from Japan has uncovered a natural…

[fushic0re]

𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?

𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR. 

Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards. 

You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you. 

“Hah…shit–” 

“Mama? Dada?” 

Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly. 

“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you. 

The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists. 

“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy. 

You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms. 

“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure. 

Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest. 

“Do something.” You hiss. 

“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–” 

“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!” 

“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–” 

“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”

“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?” 

“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?” 

You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms. 

You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?

“Excuse me?!” 

“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more. 

With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.

“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored. 

Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.

[toruro]

Who in svt do you think would like it the most when partner dresses up in the bedroom? Be it lingerie or other things (Also could i be 💚 anon?)

svt most to least — their s/o wearing lingerie

a/n: ofc u can be 💚 anon c: also i know you asked for a who in svt but i'm stupid and read it wrong and ended up writing a mtl so i'm sorry if that isn't want u wanted :c nevertheless, i hope u enjoy!

joshua

he would love it like literally LOVE IT. i can imagine sometimes he wants to fuck you while you're still wearing lingerie, just pulling them to the side and loving the way the cloth slowly grows wet from your juices staining them as he fucks into you. he's also first place because out of all the boys, i think he would just appreciate you wearing lingerie the most. as in, even he doesn't fuck you when you're wearing it, he'd take his time unraveling, placing kisses along the band of your bra, trailing his fingers over them, just being so meticulous and appreciative of you doing this for him!

seungcheol

he is both a boob man and an ass man and he is obsessed with the way your lingerie hugs your tits and accentuates the curve of your ass perfectly. the only reason he isn't first place is because at some point he would be so turned on by it, he'd just rip your panties off, so desperate to just stick it in.

jun

BOOB MAN BOOB MAN BOOB MAN. loves boobs and the way a pretty, lacey bra just highlights how perfect yours are, and it gives him an excuse to spend even more time just lustfully staring at them. plays with your nipples through the fabric because he can't bring himself to take it off, even when he fucks you.

seungkwan

he would specifically love baby pink or white lingerie with bows (???) i think he'd find it sososos cute and it'd just make him want to ruin you. he'd make you keep the bra on while fucking you relentlessy, his eyes flickering back and forth between your whining face and the bows over the lace and he would just lose control!!!

mingyu

are u kidding me he would fucking love it BUT the reason he isn't higher is because i feel like he would want to save you wearing lingerie for special occasions, like his birthday or christmas or something. still, whenever you do dress up for him, it makes his heart swell with happiness and pride that you're willing to do this for him, and makes sure to treat you extra well.

jihoon

now it's not usually his thing, but i can imagine a scenario where he's working late at night and to tease him you put on a lace matching set and he would be so into the idea of punishing you for it, having you get yourself off on his thigh through your panties. he wouldn't let you take the lingerie for the rest of the night and fuck you by just pushing your panties to the side. he likes to say it's his way of punishing you for being needy but he secretly thinks you look sososo hot

chan

i think chan would love lingerie, specifically like deep red. he would have literally a bunch of pictures of you wearing some on his phone for those nights when he can't be next to you, but in person, he'd rather have you bare for him just so he can like grab your tits whenever he wants

dokyeom

i feel like he'd like it more than you expect him too...he just feels it makes you look so pretty and makes his heart (and dick) pound

vernon

i think he would be pretty indifferent to it—he thinks you look hot no matter what lmfaoo

minhgao

he thinks it's super hot but also i think he is a bit more traditional when it comes to sex so he would rather have you naked when fucking you

wonwoo

he'd think you look so sexy in lingerie but he wants sex to be super super intimate and to him that means having you be completely naked. definitely would love some pictures of you in lingerie on his phone though

soonyoung

he just loves your naked body too much. he would have you walk around the house clothe-less if he could, and while he does think lingerie is hot, he just wants to see all of you. the only exception is you wearing like tiger print panties (jk......maybe.....)

jeonghan

honestly i think jeonghan just loves your bare body—not that the other boys don't—but he just finds sex the best when you're both stripped completely, like wonwoo, because that's what he finds most intimate and doesn't want any bit of clothing in the way of that, even if it's lingerie.

[allfryam]

sub shop part 2

as mentioned in my previous post, this story will no longer be accurate to the real life events, but I’m happy to continue the story about Zach. I’m also currently looking for before and after pictures of Zach, so I will post them when I find them.

After gaining 30 pounds in 3 months, Zach decided he needed to do something about his weight. He got a gym membership and started eating smaller portions. He would go to the gym a few times a week and he actually started to lose a few pounds. His pudge began to fade and he felt a lot better about his appearance.

but then, just as things were going amazing, the holidays came. Most people gain a pound or two during the holiday season, and Zach was worried. He didn’t want to get set back on his weight loss. But when thanksgiving came, he ate like a pig. He couldn’t help it. His family made some incredible food. He stayed home from college until the next semester started and it wasn’t helping his physique. His gym was on campus, so he hadn’t been going, but another sub shop was hiring right down the road from his parents house. It could be good to have some extra money.

December came quick and all of the Christmas cookies and other treats were taking their sweet toll on Zach’s waistline. Even the sub shop introduced a new holiday sub. It was oven roasted turkey with stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and gravy. The bread was even stuffed with cheese! It quickly became Zach’s new favorite, and he got it almost every shift. His loose uniform quickly began to grow tight again and Zach had to order the next size up. It wouldn’t arrive until about a week later, and he didn’t know if he would make it that far. But he continued to eat. It was like a drug. Whenever he was feeling down or tired, he would go grab a large sub or some of his mom’s homemade Christmas cookies, and he would immediately feel better.

during one of his shifts at the sub shop, Zach was eating his footlong sub in the back when he heard something pop. He looked down to see one of the buttons on his shirt was gone and his chubby belly was peeking through. “SHIT” he whispered. He grabbed an apron and put it on to cover the hole in his shirt. When his coworkers asked questions, he just claimed he didn’t want to get his shirt dirty. He did this for another three days until his new shirt arrived. Zach was relieved to have a loose fitting shirt for once, but when he put it on, it was still straining against his gut. Did he order the wrong size? Nope. Extra large. Zach was baffled. How did he let himself get this fat?

he went to the bathroom and stepped onto the scale. 234 pounds. “God damnit” he shouted. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” Zach’s mom asked. “Look at me mom! I’m growing into some fat pig!” He cried. “It’s okay sweetie. I’m sure it’s just water weight from stress. Come have some cookies, you’ll feel better.” Zach agreed and scarfed down the whole batch while he laid on the couch shirtless.

[possibly-a-table-or-just-gay]

You'll Be Okay Kid, I Swear

Darius barely lifted his gaze enough to see that it was not in fact some insufferable fellow teacher teetering at the threshold to his room but a student, although not one of his own. He recognised him though, the mop of blond hair and black face mask not quite clicking into place until he saw the shiny silver badge pinned to his shirt.

Head boy. That was it.

"Can I help you?" Darius drawled out, his disinterest evident in his tone.

"Um. Well, uh, I can't do this French assignment and Luz has you for Spanish and she told me to come to you-"

(Human Au where legendary lawyer turned French and Spanish teacher Darius Deamonne (no he doesn't know how he made that career change either) becomes attached to a blond traumatised student who is absolutely awful at languages.)

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

I wrote most of this in one sitting after reading Mon Horrible Chéri by ghostrat on ao3 and getting really attached to the idea of a teacher Au, so here we are!!!

I have ideas for more chapters, but right now this is all I got. Hope you enjoy!!

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Darius's head was pounding, the scratch of his pen ticking, circling and underlining never-ending lines of I woke up, I brushed my teeth, I ate my breakfast  not aiding his headache in the slightest. His fault for assigning three paragraphs from every student, he supposed.

A hesitant knock on his classroom door sent his train of thought grinding to a halt, being replaced with a haphazard tornado of insults for whatever colleague thought it appropriate to bother him after hours.

"You can come in."

Darius barely lifted his gaze enough to see that it was not in fact some insufferable fellow teacher teetering at the threshold to his room but a student, although not one of his own. He recognised him though, the mop of blond hair and black face mask not quite clicking into place until he saw the shiny silver badge pinned to his shirt. Head boy. That was it.

"Can I help you?" Darius drawled out, his disinterest evident in his tone.

"Um. Well, uh, I can't do this French assignment and Luz has you for Spanish and she told me to come to you-"

Ah yes. Luz Noceda, 2C, third row. He liked her mother, the woman knew how to pick a good bottle of wine (he thought fondly of the bottle of Pinot Noir he received after Luz got a perfect exam result last Christmas).

Darius refocused his attention back to the student in front of him, and the well thumbed sheet of paper in his hands.

"I'm not a tutor."

The boy's face dropped as he began fidgeting with the corners of the page.

"Right. Yes, I know that, it's just- well if I fail another foreign language exam I can't be Head Boy anymore a-and if I lose my position my uncle-"

Darius noted the way the kid picked at the seams of his jumper, his face ashen with dread in a manner he had seen many times before in his students the morning of exams, although this kid in particular looked like he might crumble into a thousand pieces at the drop of a pin. He was studying the floor as though if he looked hard enough, it would swallow him whole.

Christ almighty. He sighed, shuffling the pages off the table and held out a hand expectantly. He wasn't going to finish grading all of those now anyway.

The kid shifted his gaze to Darius's outstretched arm, staring at it like a deer in headlights for perhaps a second too long before snapping out of it and handing him the assignment.

Darius examined the paper for a second, immediately recognising Mrs Hallsted's illegible handwriting. The old bat still hadn't figured out the printer, instead continuing writing out 20 worksheets by hand.

Beneath the other French teacher's scrawled instructions, it was clear the student had written, crossed out and rewritten his answers about fifty times, explaining the paper's condition and rendering it unusable.

Pulling out a fresh sheet from a drawer in his desk, Darius picked up his pen and began writing the assignment title and date in impeccable cursive, pausing for a second when he remembered he had forgotten a rather crucial detail.

"What's your name?

"Hunter."

Darius resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hunter what?"

"Oh, uh, Hunter Wittebane."

Wittebane. Hm. The name was familiar, and not from the boy it was attached to. No, Darius felt like he had heard that name before, in a past life. He shrugged it off, adding Hunter Wittebane to the top of the page.

"Right, so this all looks fairly manageable, if a bit cryptic. Where are you getting caught?"

Hunter leaned over the desk, his brow furrowing as he attempted to read the paper upside-down. Darius waved a hand over his shoulder, indicating for Hunter to move behind the desk. He followed suit, pointing hesitantly at the first question, the letters barely distinguishable from eachother in Mrs Hallsted's poor penmanship.

"I didn't know how to format the answer."

Clicking his tongue, Darius rewrote the question again, explaining as he went.

"So since the question is asking for an account, you can leave out the name, date, address etc," he began, tapping a crossed out scribble on Hunter's page with the end of his pen. "What you'll need to start with is a general statement, remember you're trying to show off your ability to understand tone as well as your grasp on the language."

Hunter nodded, taking it all in as Darius described the difference between formal and informal vocabulary in clear detail.

"You should be able to figure this all out with a good set of notes, Mrs Hallsted did give you some, right?"

"Yes, she did, I don't really understand them though."

Darius nodded, reaching into his desk drawer to retrieve a fresh set of notes. Pulling out a highlighter, he gestured for Hunter's attention and started marking out sections of text.

"This is all stuff I recommend just rote learning, it's not ideal but you're better off just having it memorised. Here," Darius continued, circling a title in purple highlighter, "are the grammatical rules, and the exceptions which again, I would just learn off."

He noticed Hunter nodding along in the corner of his eye, his eyes gleaming with new-found understanding. The clear explanations were definitely doing something for his demeanour, his fingertips tapping on the desk in excitement rather than anxiety.

"These are just examples of formats, and here's just a worksheet if you need it when you're studying. The front is all short refresher questions and the back has the complicated stuff that needs lengthy answers," Darius finished, stapling the pages together and handing them to Hunter with a flourish. "Is that okay?"

Taking the notes from his hands, Hunter did one last flick through before nodding again, his thank you muffled by the face mask.

Darius waved him out, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Oh and Hunter?"

The student in question paused in the doorway, eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Tell me how you got on, when you get the chance?"

Hunter's expression changed, a lopsided smile forming under his mask from the way his eyes crinkled. He gave one last awkward wave before disappearing into the hall, leaving Darius to the pile of papers on his desk, which he was debating putting off just one more day.

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:DDDDD

Take none of the advice I wrote here to heart by the way, I made all of it up on the spot.

This was mostly written to lament about my hatred for French and unclear instructions but instead now we have my first ever published Dadrius fic!!!!!

If you liked it please let me know, I am but a simple lad that needs constant attention or I explode/j

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[tojisbbg]

✭ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ✭

❝i just wanna see you shine ‘cause i know you are a stargirl.❞

♡ shinichiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2 

a/n: this is my first time writing on tumblr so i decided to write about shinichiro first cuz finding fluff/smut about him is so rare. i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts in the comments. <3

➢ content: childhood friends, fluff, romance, friends to lovers, shinichiro is whipped for y/n, smut, not checked for grammatical errors.                                  

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶  ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶     ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“what’s wrong?” you asked the driver, watching the man grunting in frustration as he kept on trying to churn the ignition key to get your car started again, but the car refused to budge. 

“not too sure, ma’am. it was working perfectly fine this morning when you sent me out to pick up your luggages. maybe the cables aren’t working too well or something. sorry, i’ll try to fix the car up as soon as possible.” he slightly stuttered, getting a bit nervous as he thought that you’d be like one of those cruel bosses that fire employees for things that they’re not responsible for. 

“hey, don’t get so worked up, it’s okay. i think i have a solution.” you grinned, making your driver look at you with pure confusion. 

“you know how to fix cars?” the look on his face was priceless, as he stared at you dumbfounded. 

“no, but i know someone who does. i’m gonna uber there, meanwhile, you stay here and have the car towed at this location. i’ll see you then.” you suggested, making your driver shrug as he went along with your plan. 

you arrived in tokyo early this morning, not even having the time to get some sleep at your own house. 

well, new house, to you at least. you brought your parents a huge place a few months back, which wasn’t too far away from where you lived before. but, it’s been about five years since you’ve last stepped your foot back in japan. 

you’ve been studying in the states, getting cast in for movies and tv shows during your rookie years, which surprisingly shot you straight into fame. you’ve been quite busy with your acting career, not even having the time to tend your own needs, such as making time to focus on your mental and physical health. 

you’ve shed off a couple pounds, probably a little more than just baby fat. either way, you were happy and satisfied with the way you looked before and now. after all, a certain someone would always remind you of how gorgeous you’d always look in his eyes. 

you felt really guilty for losing connection with all of your friends and families, barely even having the time to speak with your own parents. which is why you were happy that you were back home. hopefully, everyone would cut you some slack. 

your uber finally came to a stop, politely announcing that you’ve arrived to your destination. you grabbed your purse and thanked the uber driver as you got out of the car. you looked in front of you, the huge shop that had many motorcyles lined up, glistening from the bright lighting from inside as you beaked from the glass windows. 

s.s motorcycle shop.

unknowingly, your lips curled upwards into a smile. happy was an underestimating term to describe how you were feeling right now. you just felt so proud of shinichiro for being able to make his dream come into reality. you always knew that he could make it, and you weren’t wrong. 

he’s just too fucking amazing.

for some reason, your knees felt heavy and your heart pounded inside your chest from anxiety. you felt it a little difficult to breathe, turning away as you tried to decide whether you should step in or not. 

would he still remember you? is he mad at you for not calling him for thanksgiving or on christmas? what about mikey, will he ever forgive you for not calling to wish him a happy birthday? 

the question that bothered you the most was, what if shin had a girlfriend? were you too late?

the mere thought of that made your eyes water, as you quickly tried to shoo it away, not wanting to ruin the eyeliner that took you ages to perfect. 

fuck it. 

you breathed out before pushing the glass door, hearing a small chime of little bells on top of your head, indicating that someone came. 

“inupi! could you take that for me?” you heard someone in the back yell, immediately recognizing who owned the voice. to your surprise, his voice didn’t change much, aside from getting an octave deeper. 

“yeah, i gotchu, shin!” the other person responded, to which you soon saw a fairly tall man walking towards your direction from the back. he was in an all blue jumpsuit, wiping his greasy hands on the rag as he inched closer. 

he had shoulder-length blonde hair, a huge scar covering the upper left side of his face. 

“welcome to s.s motorcycle shop, what can i help you with?” he asked, offering you a small smile. 

“uh, can i talk to shinichiro?” you fiddled with the rings on your fingers, getting a bit awkward from the conversation. the guy thinned his lips, shaking his head. 

“sorry, he’s a little busy right now. but, i got him covered at the moment. so, what seems to be the problem? flat tire? oil change? engine leaks?” this inupi guy tried to insist you on allowing him to help you with your services. 

“i don’t think shin’s gonna mind sparing a few minutes of his time to catch up with his childhood best friend.” you bluntly responded, catching him off guard as inui looked at you with a face of slight disbelief. 

“huh?” he blurted out.

“oh, by the way, i’m y/n. the tow company is bringing my car here in a bit. my driver should be there too, so just give him my name. thanks, inupi.” you patted his shoulder before walking off to head towards the back of the shop, leaving poor inui confused and flustered. 

you turned the corner and saw a small room where a beautiful lavender colored motorcycle was currently being worked on. you leaned on the doorway, watching shinichiro tighten some screws with a wrench as his back was turned towards you, him being completely unaware of your presence. the surrounding ground was littered with different tools. 

“you think you could squeeze in some time to look at my car for me, sano?” you asked, a smirk dancing on your lips as you saw shinichiro’s movements coming to a halt. his head turned to look at you, his eyes widening to the size of two full moons. 

“what the fu.. y/n?!” he frantically yelled, dropping the wrench out of his hand as he quickly got up, rushing over to you as he caged you in a hug. you chuckled in his embrace, feeling his arms tightening around your waist as he dug his face in the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid that you’d run away from him again. 

the familiar smell of gasoline and other vehicle parts filled your nose, a strange form of comfort to say the least. you remember the days in your middle school and high school days where you’d spent the evenings in front of shin’s garage as he fixed his grandpa’s car or mikey’s old worn-out moped while your deftones playlist was on shuffle in the background. 

“i missed you so much, y/n.” his voice came out as a muffled croak, as you soon felt something wet on your shoulders. shinichiro sniffled, a little embarrassed to pull away and have you see him crying to you like a baby when he was supposed to be a grown man. 

but, he couldn’t help it. 

he still remembers as clear as day, waiting for you in front of your house patiently so that you both could walk to school together as per usual. he had big plans for that day, wanting to try out the new noodle place that opened up down the block. after some time had passed, he realized that it was pretty unusual of you to be this late. 

so, he went up to your door and knocked. your mother soon opened it and saw the boy look at her with a concerned face, quickly asking if you were okay. she tried to explain the situation as calmly as possible, not wanting to hurt him as she knew how close you both were. 

the woman saw how his face dropped, eyes becoming glossy as he tried to avoid making eye contact. your mother felt bad for him, but she tried to reassure him that you’d be calling him soon and that your return would also be soon as well. she told him to come over for dinner that night with the rest of his family. 

shinichiro walked to school alone that day, for the first time ever. the days where you couldn’t make it to school would be if you were sick, to which shin would miss school as well in order to nurse you back to health. so, walking alone to school felt weird and wrong, but it was something that he would get used to as many years passed by.

to shinichiro’s dismay, he never got a phone call or text from you. he tried many times to reach out to you, leaving so many voicemails and emails to your business and private numbers and emails. he even tried to contact your manager, to which she told him that he should hear back from you shortly. but of course, with the sea of emails and voicemails from directors and fans, shin’s methods of trying to get a hold of you would go down in the drain. 

“i missed you too, shin. i’m so sorry for not calling.” your voice broke, eyes stinging with tears as you felt him crying a little harder in your arms. you stroked the back of his head, mumbling so many ‘sorry’s’ to him. 

he suddenly pulled away, looking down at you with a pretty smile. he was still as handsome as ever, even if he was just wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans. shinichiro wiped away his tears before cupping your face between his warm calloused palms, a pout forming on your lips as he squished your cheeks slightly. 

“i can’t believe my stargirl is back. woahh, look at that gorgeous face that i missed looking at every day. damn, y/n. i missed it all so much. those pretty doey eyes staring at me while fixed a tire or something, this cute little nose, squishy cheeks and your cute litle lips. fuck, i really missed you, y/n.” he breathed out, leaning forwards to place a loving kiss on your cheeks, a small tint of pink now painting them. 

“you’re still smooth with your words, sano. you’re making me feel like i’m in high school all over again.” you giggled, ruffling his hair as he chuckled. 

“hey, tell you what. i’ll leave the shop early today so that we could have dinner together with mikey and emma. mikey will most likely have a stroke, but i can’t blame him, he missed you so much for the past five years. in the meantime, i’ll have your car fixed up by tomorrow morning.” shinichiro smiled, looking at you with the most gentle eyes known to mankind. it set your soul on fire, to have a man look at you with such love and adoration. it was like you never left, he never changed, always being as generous as he could. 

“sounds like a plan, i’ll see you at dinner then.” you excitedly beamed, going on your tippy-toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek. he stood there, awe struck as he looked at you with hearts in his eyes. 

you waved him goodbye before leaving the small room as you walked to the front of the shop. you pulled the glass doors to exit the shop, seeing your car parked on the side, you driver attentively watching the blonde who was examining the condition of your car’s engine. 

“miss y/n!” your driver called out. inupi now redirected his attention to you as you walked closer to them. 

“thanks for getting my car here, you could go home for today.” you dismissed the driver as he thanked you before leaving. 

“you famous around here or something, miss y/n?” inupi asked, slightly mocking you which you found to be quite amusing. 

“uhm, something like that. i’m an actress.” you replied, seeing him cock an eyebrow. 

“that’s pretty cool, never knew shin had famous people on his friends list.” he mumbled to himself, trying to connect some of the cables that were latched onto your engine. 

“i’m not as famous as angelina jolie or something. still pretty much a rookie, so i have a long way to go.” you added on, trying to not come off as an arogant person.

“i see, well, i’ll be sure to search you up later on and watch some of your movies for sure.” inupi chirped, making you laugh as you both waved each other goodbye before you went your own separate way. 

...

the clock struck eight in the evening and you just finished spraying on some perfume. it was a simple dinner at the sano’s, just like the olden times, so you decided to keep it simple and casual with a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

you made sure to grab the three gift bags that you prepared with care all evening, your room now a huge mess from how messily you rummaged through your luggage to pull out these presents. 

“y/n, give this to shin for me, please.” your mom gave you a foil pan that you knew was filled with her famous tirimisu. 

“will do, ma’am. i’ll see you later, mom.” you said, opening the door before closing it behind you, deciding to walk to shin’s house since it was two short blocks away. 

you arrived shortly, ringing the doorbell as you waited for a couple of seconds. the wooden door opened, revealing your best friend who was in a very cheezy apron. 

“y/n! i just finished setting the table, come in.” he scooted to the side, giving you space to get inside. there was a particular smell in the sano residence that made you feel at home, the scent of comfort and memories. 

not a single thing has changed about how his house looks like, it’s exactly the way it looked like five years ago on the night where you last had dinner with them. 

“i brought tirimisu, my mom made it.” you informed him as you walked into the kitchen, nearly bumping into his back. 

“really? damn, how did she know that i’ve been craving for her tirimisu recently.” shin chuckled, taking the foil pan from your hands to put it in the fridge. 

“where’s mikey and emma?” you looked around, eyes scanning the living room but the both of them are nowhere to be found. 

“emma’s at hina’s house and mikey is at one of his toman meetings. but, i called them both a few minutes ago, they’re on their way.” he answered while reaching his hands back to untie the knot of the apron. you saw his eyebrow furrow as he ‘tsked’ in annoyance, he accidentally pulled the wrong string and tightened the knot. you saw him struggling, going behind him to offer your help. 

“here, let me help.” your hands brushed against his, a small electrical current running between the brief touch, as you soft fingers began to untie the knot. 

for absolute no reason at all, this strong urge to hug the man in front of you overwhelmed you. you couldn’t register nor process why.

was it because he smelled like home? how his touches bandaged all the wounds littered on your body? his voice like some kind of drug to calm down your nerves? 

without thinking twice, you closed the distance between both of your bodies. you wrapped your arms tightly against his waist, snuggling against the muscular clothed surface of your back as you breathed him in. 

shinichiro froze on the spot, not knowing how to react at all. it’s been five years, and it felt like time was going a little too slow for him. all those days where he stayed awake late at night, thinking about how you were doing and why you didn’t talk to him in any form of communication. 

for the longest, he thought that maybe you forgot about him. shinichiro wasn’t a hard man to read, in fact, he was like an open-book to be honest. there’s no way that you could miss the flirty comments, or how his cheeks and the tips of his ears would go red when he got flustered, how he dressed extra nice when you both would go out to eat after school and even much smaller actions. 

making sure to have you walk on the sidewalk where you weren’t near the road, holding your hand while crossing and looking both ways for you when you were too busy reading the upcoming play’s script, making sure to remind you to eat and drink water, and just to breathe and relax. 

you were just a little too slow to realize. 

shinichiro remembered breaking his own heart with the mere thought of you getting into a relationship with another man. of course, he would support you and cheer you on no matter what. but, it would be hard to always give you a bittersweet smile and pretend that everything was okay. 

he saw the way you helped him raise his siblings, envisioning a life where the two of you would date, get married and start a family. whenever he had a bad day, dreaming about that would instantly make him smile. 

he only wished that it was reality. 

“i’ll never leave you again shin, i’m so sorry for not calling or texting. when i came back to japan and saw you for the first time in five years, i felt like a piece of me was finally restored. god, i can’t explain to you how much i missed you and how much i yearned for you. you’re home for me, shin.” your voice came out a muffles as your embrace tightened a little with each word, not wanting to ever let go of him. 

“i’m so happy you didn’t forget me, y/n. i was so scared to lose you, holding onto the little bits of hope left inside my heart and mind that one day you’d come back and surprise me in my shop. but back then, it was only a scenario that i would think of before going to sleep.” shinichiro turned around, stroking your hair before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. 

the little moment you both share would soon be interrupted as a series of doorbells rang. 

“it’s them! you could hide in my room, y/n. go, go, go!” he exclaimed, pushing you towards the stairs in a hurry. he waited for your footsteps to reach all the way to the top, hearing the sound of his door closing before heading to open the door. 

“what took you so long, shin? i thought i was gonna die from hunger.” mikey complained the second his older brother opened the door, quickly entering the house as he kicked his shoes off. 

“this little brat made me wait ten minutes in front of that hina girl’s house because of some silly fashion show they were having in her room.” grandpa sano mumbled under his breath as he followed in after mikey. 

“any complaints from you, emma?” shinichiro chuckled, but the blonde simply shook her head. 

“i’m not overdramatical like them, i had a pretty good day. what about you, shin?” she asked as she was the last one to come inside, shinichiro locking the door behind as emma sat on the couch to open her shoes. 

“that’s good to hear. my day was pretty okay, a little busy at the shop.” he smiled, bending down to help unbuckle her heels. 

in the span of just a few minutes, all three of the sanos that just arrived home freshened up and were ready to dine in together to the freshly home-cooked meal prepared by the elder sano sibling. 

you crept up behind a wall, seeing all of them slowly being seated, mikey being the one faced away from you. 

“if only y/n was here then you wouldn’t have been so lonely all the time, big bro. she needs to come back soon, i still miss her. she probably forgot about us.” mikey sadly said, lowering his gaze towards his food as he suddenly felt a loss of his appetite when he glanced at the empty space between him and shinichiro where you would sit during meals. 

your heart shattered to pieces when hearing his words, no longer being able to hide away. you tip-toed towards him, your presence catching emma and grandpa sano’s attention as they both looked at you with wide eyes. 

emma was nearly ready to scream but you quickly place a finger on your lips to signal her to not make a sound. 

“what’s the matter? you seem like you saw a ghost, emma.” mikey laughed. 

you covered his eyes, the pair of chopsticks in his hands dropping as he tried to take your hands off of his face. 

“the hell?! emma, is this one of your stupid friends from school again?? listen here, i’m not hanging out with you after school alright!” the blonde said through gritted teeth, making you bite back a laugh. 

you slowly release you hand as you craned down you face to meet his eyes. 

“not even me, ‘jiro?” you said and he stared at you blankly. 

“i think i’m going nuts.” mikey stammered out. you gave him a warm smile before pulling him into your chest. 

it took him a minute to finally realize that it was really you. 

“y/n? OH MY GOD, Y/N!!” he screamed on the top of his lungs, nearly popping your ear drums before pulling you into a hug that made it difficult to breathe. 

“you grew up so much, little sano. oh my, look at your hair!!” you squealed while ruffling the long blonde locks, the boy in your arms sobbing as he refused to let you go. 

“i missed you so much, y/n. you big fat jerk, how dare you not call us!! i waited every birthday for you to wish me, trying to predict a lucky day that would come where you would return.” mikey hiccuped as you rubbed your hand on his back, trying to soothe him as you apologized.

shinichiro looked at you lovingly, his eyes sparkling at how tenderly you treated his siblings. the way you gently caressed mikey’s hair while patting emma’s back as she sobbed into you chest. 

you were perfect. 

you’ll always be his stargirl, shining brightly even through his darkest times. 

he never realized how madly in love he was with you, not until you were thousands of miles away. shinichiro still sometimes felt that feeling of his heart sinking at the thought of you never coming back. 

but you did and he never wanted to let you go again. 

[is-emily-real]

resolutions

The den was warm, the smell of cinnamon and wine drifting from their mugs as they spoke. It was that liminal space between Christmas and New Year’s, that time when the days seemed to pass like hours and years simultaneously. 

Their number was quite diminished, what with Robin and Argyle visiting family out of state and Eddie dutifully DMing a campaign for the kids while he had the time. Chrissy thought being fourth-wheel to two guys and the girl they used to date would have its oddities, but the atmosphere had stayed surprisingly pleasant.

“You all have any resolutions for 1987?” Nancy asked, cuddling her mug. The alcohol brought a pretty flush to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. She got why the boys fell in love with her.

It was an innocuous question, but it made her lose herself in thought, half listening to Steve and Jonathan as they discussed the concept.

She’d never had any before. They were always prescribed to her, handed down like jail sentences by her mother and rigorously enforced. Study more, look pretty, lose ten pounds, twenty, thirty, more and more and more until she felt like a shell of herself, barely able to stave off a headache at the slightest stressor. 

Then, all of a sudden, the night terrors started, and she thought it was just Jason being sweet when he asked her to talk to the counselor, wrapped her in his letterman jacket and prayed over her, but it helped a little.

After a few days, the comments started, backhand statements about how terrible it was she was so fatigued, how much it was stressing him out, how she should already be better and was she sure she was trying enough? But he was always doting in front of her friends, the picture of a perfect gentleman when others could see.

When Eddie offered her something that could make her sleep, she jumped at the chance, surprised to learn he genuinely wanted to soothe her worries. He was a point of hope, a soft heart in a hard world despite his spiky exterior.

She hadn’t expected hell in the place of help. 

That thing took her, spun her like a top, snared her in those awful vines and made her watch as he tortured the others, as he destroyed her home, as children stepped up to keep him at bay. They were so brave, all of them, and they got cut to shreds for it.

But the girl, El, came, and the bonds burned Chrissy’s skin until the red sky overhead faded to black, and when they turned to ice, she swore the sleep deprivation wasn’t that bad. 

Gentle hands lifted her, pulled her back into a reality she could understand, held her close until she was free of the shadows. She came to in her aunt’s bed with only swirling pink scars to confirm her story.

She idly traced one along her arm. Did she have any resolutions beyond preventing the coming year from being as bad as the last? Was there more to life after the worst of it was over?

“I’m just saying, the question’s a bit disingenuous,” Jonathan said. “It’s like asking what part of someone they hate most.”

Nancy scoffed. “It is not.”

“Is too! You either have a stupid answer or an honest one, and the honest answers just make you feel worse in two weeks when you give up.” 

“Everyone’s got an idea of who they should be,” Steve commented. “I don’t think any answer’s stupid.”

“Be real, how would you feel if my resolution was to smoke more?”

“I’d be fine with it as long as you shared.”

Chrissy couldn’t help her chuckle. “Your boyfriend’s a drug dealer. You don’t have enough?”

“Hey, he’s a former drug dealer, thank you. Besides, no getting high on your own supply.”

Nancy slapped her knee. “Alright, Mr. Philosopher, since you don’t think they’re stupid, what’s yours?”

He thought for a second. “I want to get my own place.”

“That’s what you’re doing with your hush money?”

“If the government put me at risk of demo-rabies, they can buy me a house to make up for it.”

“Please never say that in front of Robin.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not that stupid, Nance.”

Chrissy caught the little twitch in Jonathan’s lips. She’d keep that to herself. No need to hurt Steve’s pride. 

“I’m going to take an actual vacation this year.” Nancy snuggled deeper into her blanket. “Somewhere warm and sunny and not ready to kill me at any given moment.”

“You would love California,” Jonathan offered. “Come visit me and Argyle this summer.”

“Only if you give me an actual resolution,” she teased.

“Ah, well, Florida it is, then.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before turning her inquisitive gaze on Chrissy. “What’s yours?”

Chrissy took a breath, took in the shimmer of her eye, the soft smile on Jonathan’s lips, the weight of Steve’s arm slung across the back of the couch. She wanted this, as much of it as she could get. She’d never had it before, not when she was trying to be someone she wasn’t. 

“I think I want to finally be Chrissy this year.” She let her lips curl around the words, felt the depth seep into her skin and settle in among her scars. She’d live how she wanted, not how Vecna or Jason or her mom or anyone said she should.

Her favorite cousin wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “That’d be a good look on you.”

@thefreakandthehair for the prompt resolutions from the Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge

[supernovafics]

𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

pairing: andy barber x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k words

summary: in which you find it hard to tell the truth and be honest with your feelings because you don’t want to lose the friendship you have with andy

warnings: defending jacob au, explicit language, implied smut, angst, some fluff

author’s note: happy halloween! here’s a lil andy fic that is halloween related. enjoy!<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was weird how viscerally your body reacted to simply seeing him. The way your heart started pounding and a sudden chill ran down your spine, it let you know that you were already in way too deep. 

Nothing had even happened yet between you and Andy, and sometimes you were almost certain that nothing ever would happen, but that didn’t change how deeply he affected you. 

The house was crowded, which wasn’t really surprising given that almost every adult from the neighborhood was at the Halloween party, but Andy was able to spot you almost immediately. He smiled at you and waved, and you returned the gesture with a small wave of your own. 

When he walked over to where you were standing by the kitchen island, he greeted you with a hug, and when he pulled back, you could’ve sworn that his hand lingered on your waist for just a second longer than necessary, which made your heart race once again. 

Sometimes you felt as if it was all in your head. That you conjured up all of these little gestures and moments that you looked so deeply into and attached some sort of important meaning to them, although it really meant nothing. 

It was almost too easy to fall for Andy. From the moment you met him, when you knocked on his door and introduced yourself to him because you felt like it was that type of neighborhood, there was something about the way that he smiled at you that made you feel giddy and nervous. 

Of course, you immediately chalked it up to the fact that you had just gone through a break up, so seeing any hot guy would make you feel that way. However, two weeks later, you saw him at a cookout that the house next door to you was having, and the two of you managed to spark a conversation with one another and talk for two hours straight. You learned so much about him that night— the fact that he was a lawyer, the divorce he went through a few years ago, his seven-year-old son, who he saw on most weekends. And he learned about your recent move to Newton, which involved your sister and how she needed help with the bookstore she owned, and because of your break up, you were more than happy to move out of Boston and into the small town to get somewhat of a fresh start. 

And from there, in those moments of surprising vulnerability and honesty with one another, a friendship with Andy was born. A friendship that oh so quickly turned into what felt like a helpless crush on your end. 

“I’m surprised to see you here,” You told him, silently observing the doctor costume he was wearing, which consisted of blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck. His costume seemed slightly less last minute than yours did, a pink silk dress that stopped mid-thigh and fairy wings. But it didn’t fully matter because as long as you showed up in something that resembled some sort of costume, the Sanders wouldn’t care. 

The Sanders, the same people that had the cookout eight months ago, were the type to set up a party for anything. Ever since their kids went off to college, they would throw some sort of party for any and every occasion. Christmas, Fourth of July, Earth day, anything. 

And you were glad that they lived next door to you because you loved attending everything, especially because it gave you an extra excuse to hang out with Andy. However, you thought that this night would be different since when you ran into him a few days ago, he had told you that he would be spending Halloween with Jacob instead of at the Sanders. 

But things must have changed. 

“Jacob wanted to go trick or treating in Laurie’s neighborhood because apparently, people give out better candy, so he’s with her,” Andy explained to you. 

“Smart kid,” You said with a small smile. “That would always be the goal with my friends. Find the rich neighborhood that gave out full-sized candy bars.”

“Yeah, me too, so that’s why I didn’t feel too offended about him ditching me,” He responded with a light laugh.  “Also, I get to see you now, so that makes things better too.”

It was little comments like those that made you want to combust and simultaneously kiss him. Instead, you took a long sip from your hard seltzer and then opened your mouth to say, “I’m glad to see you too.” 

However, before you could say anything, someone yelled out, “Barber!” and both of you turned your attention to where the voice came from. The voice was Todd Calloway’s, and he was gesturing for Andy to come join him in the living room. Todd was a nice guy but in a slightly overbearing way, where it felt too much at times, which is one of the reasons why you would keep conversations with him to a minimum.

Andy turned his attention back toward you. “He probably wants to talk about this case with his company that he wants me to take on.” 

“Go ahead. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Okay, I’ll find you in a bit,” He told you and gave your arm a light, reassuring squeeze. You simply nodded, pretending as if his touch did nothing to you, before watching him leave. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The weather was cold, and it made sense for Fall in Massachusetts, but at that moment, it didn’t bother you. Mainly because the backyard was the only place where you could find quiet. 

Quickly after Andy left, you found yourself in a conversation with two moms who lived around the corner, both of whom were happy that their kids were finally old enough to go trick-or-treating by themselves. After excusing yourself, citing that you needed to use the bathroom, you went outside and sat on the rusty swing set that you were certain the Sanders would never get rid of. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but think about your sister, who was out trick-or-treating with her five-year-old daughter. She knew everything about the Andy situation and would never fail to call you stupid, in a loving way, of course, for not telling him how you felt yet. But she couldn’t understand that it was the friendship with Andy that you didn’t want to lose, which made it so much harder to admit something that could potentially change that. 

You felt your phone buzz in your hand, and you turned it over. 

Andy: Where did you go?

You: Outside 

Moments later, you heard the door that led to the backyard slide open. “It’s freezing out here.”

You simply shrugged. “I don’t really mind it.”

Andy walked over to you and took a seat on the other swing. Things were quiet for a few moments before he broke the silence. “You okay?”

For the first time that night, you decided to be honest about what you were feeling. “Not really.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and you could hear the genuine concern for you in his voice. 

Instead of directly answering Andy’s question, you asked two of your own. “Do you ever think about falling in love again? Finding ‘the one’?”

Although the question pretty much revealed nothing, that was probably the closest you’d get to directly saying how you felt about him.

Things became quiet again, and you turned your gaze toward Andy and saw that he was looking at the ground, a certain look on his face that you couldn’t pinpoint.  

After what felt like hours, he finally spoke. “I try not to think about it too much. I’ve come to the conclusion that if it’s meant to happen, it will happen.” He ended his statement with a small shrug. “But, anyway, why are you thinking about this now? It’s only Valentine’s Day when you’re supposed to be this melancholic and existential.”

You laughed a bit at that. “It was around this time last year when I was with my ex that I started thinking about if we truly were ‘the one’ for each other, and I realized that even though we’d been together for almost four years, we weren’t. Sometimes I just randomly think about that, and also about what, if anything, will come next.”

I get that,” Andy nodded. “But I’m sure that good things will happen next for you.”

You desperately wanted him to elaborate on what he meant by that, but he didn’t. So, instead, you spoke. “Sometimes I feel like I can see it as clear as day, that kind of deep love with someone, and other times it feels as if it was all just in my head and I made something out of nothing.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond or question what exactly you had meant by your previous statements before you abruptly said, “I think I’m gonna head home. I’m kinda tired.”

You stood up from the swing and started walking in the direction of your house, and Andy was quick to follow suit, unspokenly deciding to join you on the short journey. 

The two of you were walking up your front steps when Andy asked, “Do you think you’ve found ‘the one’ yet?”

This was your chance, your opening, to finally say what was weighing on you. Finally, tell Andy the truth instead of only hoping that maybe something would eventually happen. 

But the words, “Yes, you,” wouldn’t form on your lips, so instead, you said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Before he could say anything else, you decided to turn his question on him. “Do you think you’ve found ‘the one’ yet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that this conversation was seemingly running in circles. That was when you decided, or more or less realized, that if Andy did feel anything for you, he was just like you and would probably never admit it; the friendship you two had taking precedence and seeming too good to potentially break. 

You unlocked your door and were about to step inside when you felt a hand on your waist, stilling you. 

Maybe the realization was wrong. 

It was almost funny how instinctive it felt to lean back into Andy’s touch. It was also funny how even though it was stupidly cold outside, Andy’s hand was still warm enough that you could feel it through your dress and on your skin. Or maybe that was just your imagination. 

You hesitated for a moment before turning around, leaving your key half-turned in the door and allowing Andy’s other hand to find the other side of your waist. Nothing was said, but at the same time, it felt as if a million things were being said at once. 

Your heart was pounding, and your mind was racing, but your confusion didn’t change how right this all felt. So, you let that feeling of how natural it felt take over. 

You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck, hands finding home in the hair at the nape. There was a certain look on his face, and you fought the urge to kiss him because you knew that there would be no turning back once you did so. 

As if reading your thoughts and wanting to finally say all of the things that you had been wondering for months, Andy pulled you a tiny bit closer to him and dipped down a bit so that his lips were brushing against your ear.   

“It’s you,” He said softly. 

You were a person that loved to be right, but at that moment, you were so fucking glad to be wrong. 

Your eyes slipped shut, and for a few moments, you said nothing, only allowing yourself to fully savor Andy’s words for a bit. You felt his lips pull away from your ear and you already missed the feeling of him being that close to you. 

When you finally opened your eyes, you looked at him for a brief moment before leaning in and standing on your tiptoes so that you could be right at his ear. “It’s you, too.” 

You were about to pull away, but before you could, Andy wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. You smiled at the simple action and let out a soft exhale.  

“Come inside,” You mumbled into his neck. “Please.”

The signature Andy smile you saw when he let go of you warmed your insides. You turned around, trying to act unaffected by Andy rubbing your waist, and fully unlocked the door. 

Once you stepped inside and the door was shut behind you both, Andy was on you in an instant. His lips attacked your neck before finally finding your mouth. The feeling of him on you was everything you’d thought it would be and then some. His mouth easily and slowly slotting against yours, and his hand softly cupping your jaw and rubbing it in small circles; it was almost enough to make you combust right then and there. 

You sincerely didn’t want any of this to end, so you didn’t allow it to and instead ran your hands through his hair and pulled Andy even closer to you, your bodies firmly flushed against each other. You smiled against his lips at the low groan he let out when you gave his hair a light tug.

It was completely dark in your home, but somehow Andy managed to effortlessly guide you to the grey couch in the living room. When he laid you down against the soft cushions, that was when you were finally able to catch your breath for a moment. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at how surreal that moment felt, and a part of you swore that at any second, you would wake up from the dream you were having. However, when Andy smiled at your abrupt laughter and leaned down to quickly kiss you again, you knew for certain that all of this was, in fact, very real. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you for such a long time,” He admitted. “Probably since you first knocked on my door and introduced yourself.”

You thought back to that day that felt like it was a million years ago instead of only eight months. “I remember I was so nervous that day, and I also felt like a door-to-door salesman.”

Andy chuckled at your statement and pressed a kiss to your cheek as his hands took hold of the hem of your dress, slowly starting to push it upward. “Why did we take so long to get here?”

It was a great question that you definitely had at least somewhat of the answer to— you both had been scared, you worried that doing this would change things for worse, not for the better, and sometimes it was hard to be completely honest even if it was with a person you trusted fully. However, you refused to answer it. Not right then when thinking about that question made you simultaneously sad and angry at yourself. 

“I don’t know,” You ultimately told him. “But, I don’t care. I’m just so fucking happy you’re here right now.”

Andy nodded in agreement at that and smiled at your words before kissing you again, this time not stopping to say anything else.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<3333

[johnnparsons]

Summary: How different times in his life made Johnathan grow to hate Polly Pocket. He definitely did not watch the Barbie film.

A heavy door swings open and silences the room. A dark, detached stare lifts to acknowledge the locals enjoying their afternoon at The Tavern – a seedy, rundown pub in Walthamstow – then to the pub owner, Pete, standing behind the bar. Firm nods are exchanged between the men, and similarly to a conductor’s cue, after a few beats, the pub springs back to life.

“Y’alright, John?” “’Ey up, John.” “Howay, man” “John, mate!”

Griggs, Marmy, Thick Boy, and Jim. Four men Johnathan could rely on, to be the eyes and ears on the streets, and report back to him with anything that could be important. All they needed were some strollers and glasses of rose to fit in with the stuck-up bitches in Chelsea. Probably lose a couple of stone, too.

Johnathan drags a seat across the pub towards the end of the bar, in his usual spot, where he can lean against the wall, eyes cast downwards as he picks at the torn skin over his knuckles. Marmy appears next to him and grabs the tray with four pints. It’s the only type of reward that satisfies them. Wordlessly, Johnathan puts down a ten-pound note.

“Cheers John,” Marmy says and turns to leave, stepping over the shattered glass. Johnathan only responds with a grunt. It’s clear his mind is elsewhere. The men let him go wherever he needs to, they’d all been there when they were starting off.

“Why don’t you just go round, you fuckin’ pillock?” Thick Boy, ironically, the smartest of the bunch, though hard to tell from his harsh Geordie accent, shouts across the pub from his seat. “You’re makin’ more mess, like.”

“How about you get off your bloody arse for once, eh, Thick Boy?”

“To be fair, mate—” Griggs chimes in, then Jim finishes his sentence, “He’s right.” There’s a nod to the floor, and all eyes fall on the red stained footprints covering the loose wooden floorboard. When one starts laughing, the rest of them follow.

The men argue over who will do the mopping: Marmy created the mess but Marmy cleaned up last time, Jim is usually the one to always clean up, Griggs never leaves much mess, Thick Boy rarely moves. Whilst they’re distracted, Pete calls Johnathan over quietly, “Jonno, over here.” Pete is a short, chubby man with a round face and friendly features, but it doesn’t require much intuition to figure his patience shouldn’t be taken for granted. He is the kind of man you’d expect to run the local’s favourite, family friendly pub, rather than hosting men who have made bad decisions and in return have nowhere else to go.

Johnathan sighs, pulling the bottom of his shirt upwards to wipe the specks of blood off his face. “Not today, Pete. I know. Alright? I fuckin’ know.”

“You took it too far—" “Yeah, I know.” “He had a—"

“I said I fuckin’ know,” Johnathan’s voice booms, but the chitter chatter can still be heard in the background, “Didn’t I, mate? I fuckin’ know, and I can’t fuckin’ take it back now, can I? So what do you fuckin’ want me to do?”

“Listen to me.” The switch up in Pete is always too fast to catch. He has his hand wrapped round the collar of Johnathan’s t-shirt, pulling him up so their eyelines meet. There’s no room for pity here. “Last time, was the last time. This time, is your last chance.” His words are measured, balanced, but most of all, fair. “Don’t make an enemy out of me, lad.” Pete glances towards the men in their booth, then back to Johnathan, as if to say: or you’ll be getting a visit from them.

Out of pride, but not quite anger, Johnathan shoves Pete’s off him, “Fuck off, mate.” Pete’s grip becomes loose only because he allows it. He can see that John’s temper is reduced to a simmer and that his words are being heard. There’s a silent understanding, which Pete acknowledges by fixing up a glass of whiskey. “Merry Christmas Eve, lad.”

The first time Johnathan met Pete was around twenty years ago. He was a skinny boy with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, tears streaming from his eyes which was stinging the deep gash along his cheek. When are you going to learn your lesson, John-Boy? Unless you’ve found your fuckin’ mother, fuck off, his father had yelled at him, after having abandoned him for a week to drown his sorrows at The Tavern. It was then, when Griggs and Jim picked up a shaking Johnathan off the floor, and Marmy, Thick Boy and Pete did whatever they had to do. One blocked his view, the other covered his ears. To this day, Johnathan doesn’t know what that was exactly, and he never cared to find out. But it hadn’t stopped him from seeking out his father and it hadn’t stopped his father from taking out his grievances out on his son. All it did stop, really, was stop his father from enjoying The Tavern, which in return gave Johnathan a place to run to. If it wasn’t from his father, then it was after his fights, personal and criminal, until he grew into a man with a rabid sort of ferocity that no longer needed a place to hide, but a place to keep his secrets. Like today.

“Oi John,” Marmy calls out from the booth, and Johnathan barely looks over his shoulder. “We’d been talkin’, yeah—”

“And really, well, we were just waiting for the right time, weren’t we, boys?” Griggs says, then Jim and Marmy both nod, mumbling ‘aye, aye’. Thick Boy sits there like he’s surrounded by idiots, but he’s the only one without a pint in his hand, instead both hands are kept beneath the table. Jim brightly continues, “But we got something, something small, init, but it’s actually well nice.” A beat, then Marmy says, “We only just went and got your little girl a fuckin’ Christmas present.” Begrudgingly, Thick Boy brings out a box. It’s pink, or purple, or somewhere in between.

“What the fuck is that,” Johnathun grumbles, but it gets him out of his seat. He’s laughing, as he throws the box up in the air like it’s a football. There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes, which the other older men could’ve probably related to back when they were his age, at thought of maybe, just maybe, his parents would let him see Zoe for Christmas. All he had to accomplish now was to not turn up drunk.

***

“What do you mean, you don’t fuckin’ play with Polly Pocket anymore?” Outraged, Johnathan’s hands go to his hips.

“I’m thirteen,” Zoe says, eyes narrowed. Her walls are full of posters of bands he doesn’t recognise, pop stars who look like gimps and probably wear makeup, and the toys on her bed have narrowed down to one: a teddy bear he didn’t get her.

“Yeah, and? I’ve got Polly for you every year!” It’d been ten years since Johnathan first gifted Polly Pocket to Zoe for Christmas. Since then, although he didn’t get to stay for long, he made sure she always had the newest edition in her possession. It had been worth it, to see the smile on her face. “This is from Porto! Do you know how hard it is to find one of these out there?”

“Uh... No?” She might as well have said: and I don’t fucking care.

“Christ, you’re a fuckin’ nightmare, you are. Nan and Granddad know about this?” Who, technically, were her great grandparents.

“Mhm.”

“Fuck me…” Johnathan blows air from his cheeks and takes a sip of his tea. It’s painfully silent. He can feel her staring at him, not particularly wanting him to say something, but maybe making him uncomfortable enough so he leaves. This isn’t exactly how Johnathan imagined their Christmas to go, however, so he slowly walks around Zoe’s room, pretending to keep himself busy whilst thinking of a conversation starter that might get more than three words out of her. But then:

“Johnathan?” “Dad.” “Johnathan.” “Dad.” “You know what—” “Alright, fine. John, then.” A beat. He’d be an idiot to mess up the one-time Zoe has ever asked him a question. “What is it?”

“Do you really want to give me a good Christmas present?”

“’Course I do. More than anything.” Something good to remember him by. Anything that might outweigh the bad.

“Can you tell me about your parents?”

The warmth and softness in his features quickly harden into something sharp and rough, visibly shutting down. “Zoe.”

“Please? Nan talks about her all the time. She only ever has good things to say.” It’s the first time Zoe has sounded so earnest, but Johnathan remains unwavering.

“Yeah, well, nan and granddad weren’t there, and you don’t need to know,” he says tersely. Not to fucking forget, they were her parents.

***

“Alright, alright. I’ll give it to her.” Johnathan gives in, and the guys cheers in celebration. “You sure kids like this shit, yeah?” He doesn’t need further persuading, but they reassure him anyway. A Christmas with your child, especially when they’re young, is special. They all know that.

An hour or two pass. Johnathan has returned to his seat, finding solace in somewhat solitary, with the Polly Pocket box placed to his side. Suddenly, and rather unusually, the pub door opens and he hears the sound of heels clicking against the floor. He could tell it was a woman from the whistling and the low coos heard from the other men, but he pays them no attention and keeps to himself. Any woman with an ounce of self-preservation would’ve walked straight back out the door, but the clicking of heels grows louder and it’s only when she sits next to him that makes him look up from his drink.

She exhales nervously and runs her hands down her skirt. It’s low, goes past her knees, ironed. From her hands, he can tell she’s older than him, closer to Jim’s age, but he can’t be sure.

“Hiya,” she says. Softly spoken, definitely smokes or smoked, poorly dyed hair but definitely not the type of person to enjoy this kind of pub. There are lines on her face that suggests a long and hard life lived. He could even see it in her eyes. It looks like she’s come straight from work, not an office so deep in the city but an office, nonetheless. Did she not want to be with her family, after working on Christmas Eve? “What a lovely welcome,” she laughs quietly.

Johnathan goes to look over his shoulder, as the crudeness from the guys were audible from where they’re sitting and tells them to shut the fuck up. He used to join them, back in the day, before he was legally able to drink and before he knew better, so their taunts of calling him a bore and acting like he’s better than them rolls off his back. “Your, uh—your label,” he points towards the tag sticking out of the woman’s blazer.

Mortified, her hands fly round to tuck the tag back in. The redness of her cheeks might’ve been attributed to the cold weather but now the tips of her ears match. “Oh my god, thank you.”

“You’re alright.” “That’s so embarrassing.” He shrugs. It wasn’t that bad. Worse things have happened in this pub. “I’m—I just, I must’ve forgotten to take it off,” she scrambles to explain. “It happens." “I hope I didn’t walk all the way over here with it out.” “Doubt anyone saw. No one here really cares anyway.”  “God, I’m so silly. I don’t know why but I always do that.”

An almost silent sigh. Way to fucking bang on about it. He could understand lying once, he was happy to play along, but lying again after he let her off easy was starting to piss him off. She was taking him for an idiot. “Want me to tear it off?”

“Oh, no. No, that’s alright. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”  “Wouldn’t bother me.” “Oh,” she laughs. “It’s okay. Thank you, though.” The corners of his lips quirk upwards, but only faintly. “What’s good here?”

Johnathan returns a blank stare, though underlying the pause there’s an apology, then he responds coolly, “If you’ve come here for a good drink, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Oh,” she laughs again, and it’s clear it’s a habit to just fill the gaps. “What are you drinking, then?”

He inhales sharply. Strangers, small talk, he was in no mood for bull shit, so he replies curtly, “Whiskey.”

“I’ll get you one of those, love.” Pete interrupts before Johnathan can speak again, and fixes him a look, as if to remind him it’s Christmas, and Johnathan responds with a look of his own that reads: Eve. The drink comes quickly and the woman looks up at Johnathan, hesitant, almost as if she wants to clink their glasses together, but it could’ve easily have been something else entirely. She simply smiles then takes a sip of her drink. “It’s very nice,” she says timidly, like she’s aware he never asked, “My dad used to drink this.”

Johnathan looks up then, twisting in his seat slightly, and lips part as if to say something but he decides against it. Smacking his lips together, he mutters, “Glad you like it.”

“Is that for your daughter?” She asks, tipping her glass towards the Polly Pocket box, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah,” he replies, turning to glance back at the present. “Yeah, something like that.” “How many kids do you have?” “Just one. A little girl.” “What’s her name?” “Zoe.”

“Zoe,” she repeats with a smile, but this time it felt like the smile was for herself, as if it meant something to her, to be saying the name for the first time, “that’s a beautiful name.”

A small crinkle forms between his brows, as the memory of picking out the name with Melissa comes flooding back to him, and he resigns by taking a large gulp of his drink. “You? You have any?”

“Kids? Oh, yes. I have, um, I have four.” “Bloody hell.”

“I know, it’s a lot.” She laughs quietly. “They’re lovely, though. Here, let me show you--” she digs into her bag to find her purse. She fishes out several photos, slightly crumpled, because maybe she tends to show them off to strangers in pubs. One is a family photo, must have been a birthday, they’re all surrounded around a cake and two of the kids are pretending to blow out the candles which hadn’t been lit. He spots the big smiles, tall windows and clean clothes, and can see why she would carry this photograph with her. Then she moves to the next photo, it’s her and three of her kids, on a beach. A family holiday, she says, and talks about how funny that moment had been and how grateful she was that her husband caught it on camera. The more she speaks, however, the more bitter he feels, and whilst he knows the deep resentment is misplaced he can’t quite help himself. So, when she moves to the next photograph, he abruptly cuts in, “Alright, I get it.” She looks up at him, wide-eyed, but seems to understand her mistake. “Your kids are lucky,” he says, less aggressive.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Quickly, she tucks the photos back into her purse.

“Why are you here, then? Shouldn’t you be with them?”

She pauses, trying to be more careful with her words. “Oh, I was. Earlier. But I told them, I mean, they know. Well, I’m here to meet someone.”

“Meet someone?” He repeats incredulously. Who could she possibly be meeting, here, at The Tavern, that wasn’t here already? Another lie, he suspects.

“Yes, I know, I’m—well, I’m a little late. Oh, nevermind.” Despite the look she receives, which was one that didn’t hide how unconvinced he was, she holds her drink like she intends to finish it and continues the conversation as if her company is welcomed. This makes Johnathan think that she’s either incredibly stupid or incredibly lonely, or quite possibly both. “So, what do you do?”

He looks up at Pete with a look in his eyes that reads: save me. Pete responds with a small shrug, clearly holding back a laugh. It’s either the alcohol, or the fact that he is also incredibly lonely that makes him respond, “I work in construction. You?”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” “…Are you havin’ me on?”

“No! Not at all,” she protests. “I take it that explains your..?” Her gaze drifts downwards, nervously, from his ripped shirt to the stains and his battered hands.

After a beat, he replies simply, “Sure.” He wonders how long ago she’d noticed all the things she’d pointed out, what kind of explanations she’d come up in her head, and whether or not he needs to be concerned. The look in her eyes, though he may be reading her wrong, seems to be filled with worry, even more so as he catches her staring at the scar on his cheek. “Nosebleed,” he says, tugging on his shirt that has blood stains from earlier in the day. She lets out a sigh of relief, then her gaze returns to his cheek, concerned.

A deep sigh, and before she asks, he offers, “Uh, cut myself. When I was kid.”

Her hand goes up to cover her mouth. Fucking dramatic, he thinks. “How old were you?”

“Nine, ten. Something like that. Wasn’t a big deal, to be honest.”

“Oh god,” her hand twitches, almost as if she wants to reach out to graze it. Thank fucking god she doesn’t. “It must’ve been bad, if the scar’s lasted this long.”

“Yeah, well.” Johnathan finishes off the rest of his drink, unintentionally slamming the glass against the wooden bar top, which catches Pete’s attention and without a word, Pete refills Johnathan’s glass. Even without looking at her, he can tell that she wants to ask more questions. It’s Christmas Eve, he reminds himself, and maybe he’s trying to build some good karma for tomorrow, so he turns to her and asks, “What do you do, then?”

“Oh, me?” She tries to quickly gather herself, which is the only reason why he doesn’t quip back with ‘who the fuck else?’. “I’m just a secretary.”

“Right. You use one of them computers and all that?” She laughs, albeit meekly. “Yes, yes I do.” “Not doing too bad yourself, then. You work in the city?” “Oh, no. Well, thank you. But no, I work just outside of it. It’s, um, I work at Wilkinsons.” “Do ya?” He groans. “I hate that place.”

She doesn’t ask a question this time and simply takes another sip of her drink. They sit in silence, like this, for a while. But he couldn’t quite get himself to enjoy it. The woman seemed upset, for reasons he didn’t care for, but it was getting late and he figured this wasn’t the kind of place she should be at right now.

“It’s a bit rough round here, you know,” Johnathan says. “Shouldn’t come this way by yourself. Not this late.”

“I—I know, it’s been a while, since I’ve been around here.” He could tell from her voice that she’d been crying, or at least trying to hold it back. “But thank you.”

He shrugs, and he decides that this is all he can manage. He looks behind him, over at Griggs, Marmy, Thick Boy and Jim, who all quickly look away in unison and act like they’ve been talking this entire time. He wonders what would be more painful, to sit here or join them. He doesn’t think too long on it and decides to get up, but before he can leave his seat, another question shoots out from from the woman’s mouth: “Would it be okay,” she starts, which makes him stop, and she pauses as if to muster up the courage to finish her question, “if I asked you, what you were like as a kid?”

“What?” He blinks at her. “Sorry, I just—“

“Trouble,” Pete says, with that warm smile of his, and joins them on their side of the bar with a drink of his own. “Like you won’t even imagine, love.” Johnathan rolls his eyes, but Pete continues, “The number of times he’d come in here with all sorts of cuts and bruises.”

“Alright, Pete. Settle down,” Johnathan says, disgruntled.

“He was always crying and getting into some kind of shit,” Pete says, and though his eyes were on the woman, his words were for Johnathan, “And I was always getting him out of it.”

Tears began rolling down her cheeks, and she runs the back of her hand beneath her nose as she sniffles. “Where was your dad?”

“Left him!” “Pete.” Johnathan warns.

“His mam too. Then one day, he stops crying and he’s all grown up. Turned into a right little cunt, mind you. But look at him, doing what’s best for his kid. Better than all of us in here, I’d say.”

“I—I should go,” she says unexpectedly. Johnathan only notices now how her makeup has run all down her face. All of a sudden, she’s in a hurry to leave, as she finishes her drink and slips out of her seat. “I’m sorry, I—you’re right. It’s late.”

“You alright?” Johnathan asks, confused but also a little concerned.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, it’s been lovely.” She puts on her coat and collects her things. Then, she pauses and brings out her purse again. “Can I leave these with you?” She asks, holding the photographs of her family.

His face twists in bewilderment and looks to Pete for some help. To which, of course, he offers none. “I—”

“Please,” she says, and pushes them into his hands. “This is a bit fuckin’ weird. They’re your kids.” “I know, I know, I just—” “He’ll have ‘em,” Pete says, unhelpfully. “You sure you’re gonna be alright? How’re you getting home?” “I know I seem a mess but I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll take a taxi.” From her purse, she takes out some cash to pay for the drinks. “Here, for both of us.” “No, no. On the house,” Pete says, and waves the money away. “Please, take it,” she urges. “It’s Christmas Eve,” Pete says, for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “I can’t possibly—” her hand has been pushed away so the cash goes back into her purse, but she makes another attempt to pay.

“On us,” Johnathan says, putting his hand on top of hers so she puts her purse away, but this makes her drop it. There’s a small thud once it lands on the floor. Some money, a card and another photo has fallen out of it. Johnathan reaches down to pick up her belongings, but when his eyes land on the photo, his whole body stiffens. Slowly, he stands back up, holding the photo between trembling fingers. There’s a glint in his eyes that Pete hasn’t seen since Johnathan was a child. “What’s this?” Johnathan asks, voice low and seething.

The photo is of him as a child, playing in the park with a woman and a man. He only recognises himself, from having dropped Zoe off at his grandparents, and they’d showed him pictures of himself as a kid, along with his parents, who were the woman and the man in the photo. The woman in the photo, which he can see now, having a resemblance to the woman standing before him.

“Johnny,” she whispers under stuttered breaths, “I can explain…”

***

The atmosphere quickly grows uncomfortable and tense. Johnathan, who had promised to himself to never lose his temper in front of Zoe and to only show her the good parts, was clenching his jaw and pushing his thumb into the palm of his hand. Unfortunately, however, Zoe had already seen it all. She stood tall and unphased, because even if he were to blow, she was desensitised by it all. It’s too much of a burden, for a thirteen-year-old, Johnathan recognises this and he tries his best. But every time he’s around her, he can’t help but feel that it’s never enough.

“She was here, earlier,” Zoe says bluntly. “What?” “She’s been coming every year. With her kids. They’re nice.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” Johnathan says.

Zoe sighs. “She gave me this.” She opens a drawer and pulls out several photographs. They’re ones he has seen before that night, in the pub. A few of her with her new family, and one of the one she abandoned. “They won’t tell me everything. They said she was sick and now she’s doing better. But I overheard them talking, her and Granddad, and they said you--”

Then, suddenly, Johnathan cries out, “I’m her kid!” A lump quickly forms in his throat, and then breathlessly, he says, barely audibly, “I was her kid.”

Zoe’s eyes are as cold as her mothers, and she looks at him like he’s weak for letting his emotions get the better of him. “You should go.”

“No, Zoe—” “Nan!” Zoe calls out, “Granddad!”

That evening, after being escorted out of his grandparents’ house and being told to never come back, Johnathan was arrested on a charge of assault and manslaughter, after getting into a fight with the first group of men he’d bumped into and beating one of them to a pulp in a fit of rage. It was in the news, and he’s sure Zoe heard about it at some point. Luckily, Andrew pulled some strings and he was released, but even then, she didn’t seem surprised when he next visited her.

***

The funeral chapel is small but there’s not an empty seat in sight. Johnathan can’t bring himself to believe that this many people have turned up. Every single one of these people, at some point, knew his mother and they had enough of a relationship to pay their respects. All of these people knew her better than he did. He sits three brows behind the four kids who, until today, he’d only known from a few photos. From what he can see, they’ve grown up to be the kind of kids she’d be proud of. They spoke to him, welcomed him, and thanked him for showing up. Johnathan, now nearing fifty, returned the respect. He carries himself better than he used to, whether that came with age, or money, or power, it didn’t matter. He could tell it’d caught them by surprise, however. He'd arrived in a range rover with tinted out windows, a driver who opened the door for him, and behind him was another car full of men in black suits who were sat at the back of the chapel. They didn’t ask questions, and they suspect it’s because they knew not to.

The service was described to be a celebration of life. Her husband and her kids all did well in staying strong and delivering speeches that made people both laugh and cry. They opened the floor up to anyone who wanted to say their final goodbyes. People from all walks of life stood at the front and spoke from their hearts or shared funny anecdotes, which Johnathan thought was a bit stupid, if he was being honest. Surely this could’ve been done at the wake, he had things to do, and if he was being honest, he was only here because Zoe had mentioned it to him and he wanted to see her. The husband, who weakly still held a smile, asked if anyone else wanted to go. Johnathan flicked his wrist to check the time, and Zoe bumped her leg against his.

“Sorry,” he whispered, but with a turn of the hands, as if to say, I’ve got places to be. “No,” she whispered back, “You should go.” “What?” “Go. Say something.” “Zoe, no.” “You’ll regret it.” “I won’t.” "Dad." But if there’s anyone he caves to, it’s his stubborn little shit of a daughter, and after some more badgering, he rises to his feet. The husband looks surprised, shocked even, then looks to his children. Johnathan could only see the back of their heads, but he assumes they gave him an approval of sorts considering the husband’s reaction.

Once he’s at the front, Johnathan clears his throat and gently tugs the collar of his shirt. “Hello everyone. My name is Johnathan,” he pauses, and rubs a hand along the brim of his jaw. “Laura… was my mother.” Several people look surprised. “I was her son. When I was eight years old, she left me at an Wilkinsons. She told me to wait there for five minutes, and if she wasn’t back then to go home. I didn’t know how to tell the time and I didn’t know what came after ten, so I had no way to know when five minutes would have passed.” That, surprisingly, earned a couple of laughs. “I stayed there, in the same place, until the shop was starting to close and I didn’t see Laura again.” Johnathan presses his lips into a thin smile, he supposes there was no point in telling people what happened after that. “Until, around twenty years later, she showed up at my local pub, dressed in this blazer that was too big for her with the tag sticking out. Mind you, it was probably the first woman that’d entered that pub in about twelve years. So, from the get go, I knew she had issues.” Another few laughs. “We spoke a bit. She told me about her family, her kids,” he nods towards them, sitting in the front bench, shedding a few tears, “She asked lots of questions. It’s a bit of a blur, now, if I’m being honest, but one thing I remember clearly is she asked what I was like as a kid,” he says, rather solemnly. He didn’t know it at the time but now he knows she was just trying to get to know him, and she was trying to show him that she was doing better, that she knows how to be a mum. A memory flashes in his mind, of when the photo of them had fallen out of her purse, and how he’d slapped her before she got a chance to explain. It hurts now, knowing everything. “I wish…” The words are caught at the back of his throat. He’s not confident he’ll be able to say what he wants to say. “I wish I could forgive her. I don’t know if I can, but I understand her better now.” He looks at Zoe, someone who probably won’t ever understand why he’d done the things he’d done, even if it was for the best. “I’m glad she got another chance,” he lies.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and an old drunk man wobbles in whilst yelling profanities. Gasps and whispers fill the room. Johnathan nods towards the men sitting at the back who promptly escorts him out of the room, and he makes an effort to settle the chaos in the room and bring the services to a smooth finish.

As groups of people leave the chapel and transition to the wake, Johnathan waits outside.

“John?” Zoe calls out. “I’ll be there in a sec, love.” Johnathan nods, urging her to go along.

A black range rover pulls up outside the gates of the funeral chapel. From there, they could see the top of the hill where the service was held. Sat on the drive is the old drunk man, who somehow had managed to get a hold of a bottle of vodka. The window rolls down and Marmy pops his head out of the window, “Oi oi, what we do we have here?”

“Ahh, Marmy, my fuckin’ saviour, you,” the old drunk man slurs his words and gets up from his seat.

“Aye, get in here.”

The old drunk man opens the door and climbs into the seat, rambling about what a fucking day he’s hard. Wordlessly, Marmy locks the doors, then says, “Have at him, John.”

The old drunk man turns to his side, and only then notices a larger figure sitting next to him. “John Boy?”

Slowly, Johnathan looks up at the man with a cold stare, fixing his knuckle duster on top of his leathered glove. “Been a while, dad.”

[willesworld]

autistic wilhelm fanfic recs

if you know anything about me you know i'm obssessed with autistic wilhelm and that i dedicate most of my time to writing autistic wilhelm fanfics.

so! what better thing to do than create a rec list of my favorite fics with autistic wilhelm! (because he's my favorite)

-

lucky to have you by maraalligator

Then, as if he wasn’t already dangerously close to losing his mind, someone - somewhere - (close to him) drops a wine glass that shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces, and Wilhelm has to suppress as scream because he swears the glass might as well have been dropped right on his head or thrown into his face. His head is pounding, his hands are shaking; he can’t stay here. Wilhelm doesn’t think. He just runs.

Or

Wilhelm hides, but eventually allows Simon to find him.

Infinite by NerdGirl07

Wilhelm couldn’t help it. He giggled.

The stars were on his ceiling. Well, not the actual stars, those were billions of light years away, but Simon had bought him a light that projected the night sky onto his usually boring ceiling, turning it into a kaleidoscope of colours and pin pricks of light, a whole galaxy all to himself.

Wilhelm thought it was definitely his favourite gift he’d ever received, and it wasn’t even for his birthday or Christmas.

how many signs do you need to know i love you? by ASkyOfKai

"We could cut class," he mutters against Wilhelm's lips and pulls back a little to see him better. "At my place, so we don't have to sneak around."

"No, we can't" Wilhelm signs, shaking his head as he grins. His hand moves in an unfamiliar way, followed by"...would know."Simon repeats it, raising his eyebrows in question. Understanding crosses Wilhelm's face and he carefully spells out,"M-A-L-I-N. Her name sign. Her wife gave it to her."

"Oh, I see." Simon nods, repeating it."Malin. Your bodyguard?"

Wilhelm nods."She knows everything."

Lazy Morning by Greeen_Bean

Simon loves lazy mornings with his boyfriend. When they have no reason to do anything of purpose and can just be. And that is exactly what he is planning to do today.

or

Simon wakes up to Wilhelm being non-verbal and is a good boyfriend.

There is nothing wrong with him by Greeen_Bean

"I have an appointment with a psychiatrist on Thursday.”

“Why?”

“For a while now, I have been looking into the possibility that I may have autism.”

“Wille, what are you talking about?”

“I’m autistic. Or, at least I think I am, that’s why I’m going to see Dr. Berg-”

“Don’t be silly. There is nothing wrong with you.”

OR

Wille tells his parents his autistic, gets diagnosed and stands up for himself :)

sanctuary by little_versailles

Wille has a kind of terrible day, but it gets better.

(Wille isn't explicitly autistic in this one, but he reads as autistic ;) )

hope y'all enjoy! please go read these lovely fics and leave some nice kudos and comments for the wonderful authors who wrote them💜

[dark-elf-writes]

I was thinking about your Pretty Young Thing AU and started wondering: While Oboro has a great group of friends does anyone dislike the age gap? Is he called a MILF Hunter in a mean way? Is Inko scorned for getting with a rich young man? I’m assuming when they get more serious he helps her divorce Hisashi, does this happen and how does he react? (Does Inko lose friends *cough*Mitsuki*cough* over this? Does she get shunned by the hospital?!)

Oh god imagine the media.

… also agreeing seeing your post on IiDeku: I would love to point out the opportunity for childhood friends to lovers IiDeku here.

You caught me right on an upswing of energy that came out of nowhere so I apologize if this gets out of hand.

In Oboro’s immediate circle everyone is pretty chill. He gets some side eyes from some of the other heroes. Endeavor once made a snide comment but got quiet real quick when Oboro asked how much older he was than his wife. I can see there being mostly an issue because Inko is older than Oboro as heroics is, unfortunately, a pretty male heavy industry to be in so while taking a younger wife/lover is seen as normal a man having an older woman for a partner would cause some raised eyebrows. Considering I see adult Oboro as well over six foot and jacked with heavy scarring (and probably pretty high up in rankings tbh. I could see him at least in the top fifty) no one is bold enough to say anything to his face for the most part. Particularly after he cuts the “locker room talk” real short and may or may not come home with busted knuckles once or twice.

But Inko, poor sweet Inko.

After the first pictures leak of the two of them together while she’s at work, her coworkers start talking behind her back. “Isn’t she married?” “Have you seen his face?” “No wonder her husband left her.” And she’s not blind, okay. She knows that there’s a type that men like Oboro tend to chase after and it’s not her. She’s short, has packed on a few pounds between late shifts and being a single mom, and while she sees herself as pretty she’s no model. Still, those first words he said to her ring in her ears whenever she starts to doubt. “I think that’s my choice, yeah?” And he chose her. Time and time again, he came back and proved that he loved her and that he was happy with her. That he wanted to be a part of her family.

So she keeps her head high and tries not to let the whispers get to her. She does love her job, works herself to the bone even after getting with Oboro, so she tries not to pay any mind to the hisses of “gold digger” sink in either. Oboro chose her, respected her, loved her and at the end of the day that was all that mattered.

(It hurt, however, when Mitsuki pulled away. “You couldn’t even get divorced first?” She asked as if Inko’s husband hadn’t put the entire globe between them and left her with the barest scraps of a savings account that she had never put his name on and a one bedroom apartment to raise their child. As if she hadn’t had to hold Izuku as they cried year after year when Hisashi ‘forgot’ to call for birthdays or Christmas. As if she hadn’t slept on a couch for years so Izuku could have the bedroom until she saved up enough to rent them their two bedroom. Inko had been single in every way but in a court of law for years and she thought the woman who was her best friend would be happy that she had finally found someone who cared in the way Hisashi never had.)

The media storm was initially terrible but through a few favors and a possible deal with the devil (Oboro agreeing to also teach at UA) it was silenced ruthlessly. Hizashi alone was responsible for the end of no less than fifteen journalists’ careers and Nezu sunk so many gossip rags and talk shows that he is the Macbeth of the industry. No one dares speak his name lest they summon his wrath.

But for Hisashi?

He had all but forgotten his wife and kid. Had moved on. They weren’t his problem. Inko could handle it. After all, he was the man of the house. Of course he should be out making them money. Never mind that he never sent any of that money back home, never mind that he hadn’t so much as thought his wife’s name in years, never mind that he brought plenty of other women to bed and had sold his wedding ring for a new watch.

Then he gets served divorce papers and his perfect little fantasy shatters around him.

Inko didn’t want him anymore. Didn’t need him. And when he finally found the right number for her after dozens of calls that were definitely jacking up his phone bill a man answered.

“Shirakumo residence.”

“I want to talk to my wife”

“Who?”

“Midoriya. Inko.”

“Oh I think you mean my future wife.”

Needless to say Hisashi ended up throwing his phone at a wall and Oboro gained an enemy for life. Not that he cares. He has Izuku hanging off of his arm as they chattered away about a cat they saw with Uncle Shou when they were walking back from the park and Inko laughing with Nemuri in the kitchen over glasses of wine. He has his family, all of it, close at hand.

(And years down the line when Izuku comes to him and Inko to tell them about their “new boyfriend” that Oboro has watched them slowly fall in love with over the last nine or so years he also has five hundred yen of Tensei’s hard earned paycheck and the knowledge that his kid is going to end up just as happy as Oboro is.)

[rinhaler]

just saw a post abt who would be most likely to hold a mistletoe over their dick and get you to kiss it and i thought this was so plug!sukuna coded. going to a christmas party at the itadori household and you’re dressed in a cute little red dress that sukuna can’t stop looking at. and then you’re suddenly in sukuna’s room and he’s got a GRIN on his face, pulls his pants n boxers down, going ‘wanna give it a kiss?’ while he’s holding a mistletoe above his dick. ew ew EWWW DISGUSTING (i’d be on my knees for him immediately actually). meanwhile yuji is outside drinking shitty beer and wondering where you disappeared to 😭😭. even better if you and yuji got caught under the mistletoe just before you went into sukuna’s room and sukuna was standing there rolling his eyes (low key heartbroken) while he watches you two kiss NDKEOWOA i just want them all to be happy together :((((

when i tell you i opened my inbox as soon as you sent this, read "mistletoe over their dick and get you to kiss it and i thought this was so plug!sukuna coded" and closed my tumblr app bc i got so flustered im not joking. ive been trying to read this entire thing for FOUR HOURS my heart has been POUNDING nonnie you actually broke me. i sent the ask to penny and i was like "bestie i cant do this i actually cant read anymore im LOSING it"

I WOULD ALSO BE ON MY KNEES IMMEDIATELY ACTUALLY?????? and if the reader has had enough to drink and is turned on enough she's deff dropping her panties for him and making out with his dick mmmmm HELP

IT'S SO TOUGH I RLY WANT THEM ALL TO BE HAPPY TOO BUT IDK HOW IT'S EVEN POSSIBLE 😭😭 I feel so bad for yuuji bc he's been an amazing boyfriend but HIS BROTHER IS TOO HOT I CAN'T DEAL

[pint4punt]

5 Teams That Might Prevent the Inevitable Threepeat

At long last the worst part of the sports calendar is finally behind us! No longer do we have to desperately suckle at the teat of baseball while we wait for the real action to begin. That’s the good news. The bad news? It’s still the Chiefs’ world and we’re all living in it.

After losing to the Raiders on Christmas Day last year, Kansas City finally looked vulnerable. The offense was broken, MVS needed body guards just to go to the store, and their first ever road trip in the postseason was looming. But any doubts of how inevitable Mahomes truly is at this point have surely been quelled by this latest run as he led the Chiefs through a road trip from hell, going through the Bills and Ravens in their houses, before beating arguably the most complete Niners’ team in the last 30 years in their division rivals’ home stadium to earn the third ring in his already legendary career.

So if a Chiefs team with as many weaknesses as this one had could go through that brutal of a postseason lineup and still win it all, what team can possibly dethrone the Back-to-Back champs after they addressed their offensive deficiencies by drafting the fastest player in NFL Combine history? Well the god honest truth is, probably none! But who are we to tell you watching this season is a complete waste of time for 31 fanbases! For those of you getting high off hopium like us, here’s 5 teams that MIGHT have a shot at preventing the first ever threepeat.

Pittsburgh Steelers

Don’t be so quick to give up on Russ and Justin Fields in an Arthur Smith offense could be a game chang……we’re just fucking with you lol

Houston Texans

As unbelievable as Mahomes’ debut as the starter in his second year was, C.J. Stroud had one of the greatest rookie seasons of all time. And Houston has done everything possible to ensure he doesn’t experience a Sophomore slump with key additions such as Stefon Diggs, Joe Mixon, and even his college tight end in Cade Stover along with returning stars in Nico Collins and Tank Dell.

Pairing Danielle Hunter with Defensive Rookie of the year Will Anderson should also give Demeco Ryans all the firepower he needs to put opposing QBs’ asses in the turf as well. The real question is whether or not they’re ready to swim in the deep end of the AFC pool. If so, Stroud just might establish himself as the new sheriff in town and Diggs might not have to watch the Chiefs celebrate from the sideline for once.

Cincinnati Bengals

If there has been one boogeyman in Patrick Mahomes’ career, it’s Joe Burrow. Under Burrow, the Bengals have gone 3-1 against Kansas City, with the one loss coming in a highly controversial AFC Championship game where the Chiefs kept getting mulligans on 3rd & 9 due to officiating fuckery.

The Bengals missed the playoffs last year at least in part due to injuries and will be without now former Offensive Coordinator Brian Callahan for the first time in Joe Burrow’s career. There’s also the ongoing contractual issues with Cincinnati’s favorite super weapon Ja’Marr Chase that may result in him missing games. Time will tell what kind of impact all of this will have, but at the very least the real Slim Shady appears to have stood back up.

Detroit Lions

Legitimately, is there a more fun team in football than the Detroit Lions right now? The perfect meld of old school ground and pound, new age passing concepts, and a Head Coach jacked on borderline lethal levels of espresso. While it’s easy to point out that the Lions already beat the back-to-back champs to kick start the 2023 season (in their house no less), it’s important to note that two of the Chiefs most important players in Travis Kelce and Chris Jones missed that game. The latter of which, doesn’t get nearly enough credit for both of the Chief’s Super Bowl wins over another team featured in this article (oops spoiler alert).

What Detroit…..devout? Dedicated? Whatever the fuck their fans call themselves, should focus on is how much better they got throughout the year and how they had the Chiefs’ eventual Super Bowl opponent (spoiler spoiler spoiler!!!!) on the ropes until a miraculous halftime comeback for the ages. With an offensive line that imposes its will in a manner that would make Weinstein blush, a dynamic duo at RB in Gibbs & Montgomery, an alpha Receiver & an end-zone magnet Tight End, a force off the edge who finished 2nd in QB pressures last year (101) and a QB who can reliably orchestrate it all, the Lions have all the ingredients to put a dent in the Kansas City dynasty.

San Francisco 49ers

Pure seething hatred alone might will this victory into existence. Seriously, what did Kyle Shanahan do to the scriptwriters to make them hate him so much. Popping Dre Greenlaw’s Achilles in a Super Bowl this team was dominating early on? A muffed punt? And let’s not forget the overtime debacle, that added a nice twist from the last time Mahomes & Co ripped the Faithfuls’ hearts out of their chest. Tinfoil hats aside, this team’s sexual frustration has to make Tiger Woods look celibate.

All of that said, why include them as a threat to a Quarterback they’ve literally never beaten? Well for starters, Vegas has them neck and neck with Kansas City to win it all and we all know how much they hate losing (right right off with the tinfoil hat). But more importantly Brock Purdy, every analysts’ favorite punching bag, took Mahomes and this dynastic roster to overtime on the biggest stage in his first full season as a starter. San Francisco just has to hope him having a proper offseason is enough to overcome all the Brandon Aiyuk and Trent Williams drama and they just might have a shot at finally getting out from Andy Reid’s shadow. Week 7 will offer a nice preview of this one.

Baltimore Ravens

Ah yes, it all comes down to the the matchup that will kick start the whole 2024 ride in approximately 3 hours from the time of this writing. Baltimore has been the standard of the NFL from the Front Office down in the Lamar Jackson era. Yet despite being the darlings of the analytics community in that time, they’ve only won one of five matchups against Mahomes’ Chiefs. Which begs the question is this really a rivalry?

Despite being NFL Royalty against the rest of the league, Baltimore needs something more to gain the edge over the Chiefs and maybe just maybe, that something is a King.

After helping end Baltimore’s season just a few short years ago, Derrick Henry is now hoping to help the Ravens extend their season one more game than last year and cement the legacy of his reign with a Lombardi Trophy. If Henry has lost a step, it’s hard to envision this team toppling Kansas City with key losses to their Defense and O-Line. But if he can be the transformational piece the Ravens signed him to be, they just might have the best chance at ending the dynasty…..well maybe for a year.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Warnings: NHDD!Justin's dysfunctional family, financial abuse. Set in the late 80s/very early 1990s. Not a happy installment this time- most of NHDD is what happens when things are going well, this is a moment when that is not the case. .

Deep breath, and let it out. Justin Hammer's greatest strength was their self-control, they couldn't afford to lose it— no matter how much they wanted to.

Even if Justin really, really wanted to. Like right now, when his latest bank statement proudly declared he officially had all of one dollar to his name. Ugh, figured that the one time their parents were paying attention to them, it was for shit like this.

What was it, that last not-fight with the old man, or the fact that they’d been late to Thanksgiving due to midterms? Oh, who was he even kidding, it was the latter— mother dearest just hated anytime their ‘happy family’ facade showed the slightest crack.

So emptying out Justin's bank account? Part retaliation for dragging his feet when scheduling his trip home last time, and part warning to not do the same for winter break. Even if finals were right before Christmas this year, because of course they were.

Justin tamped down on that frustration and helplessness and rage, and focused on what they needed to do next.

Okay.

They were officially broke for the foreseeable future, but they could work with what they had.

Utilities were covered in the year-long rental contract they’d prepaid at the start of the term, it was the phone cutting off and his main card being declined while grocery shopping that had tipped Justin off to what was going on. They were screwed on the latter, but if this hissy fit went as expected, then they'd give it a few days for their parents to "let it sink in", and a handful more before their spite was outweighed by their need for convenience and they reinstated his phone because neither of his parents could stand each other for more than five minutes these days.

If things continued like previous fights, and knowing his parents the way he did, then the next step would be to play along and once the situation had blown over, they’d put half of the money back, keeping the rest as punishment. As if Justin was the one acting like an unruly child, and not their parents who threw honest to goodness temper tantrums the moment things didn’t go their way, or discovered that their children had their own independent thoughts and feelings.

At the moment, Steph was really stomping on their parents’ latest nerves with her hopes for art school and Justin’s Econ major could only do so much damage control, especially with their father.

They’d seen the writing on the wall, they knew what was coming: but the breaking point wasn’t quite yet, and they’d be able to do so much more to at least get Steph out of this mess if they just gritted their teeth during moments like these, and stuck with the plan. It was at a delicate stage at the moment, and they couldn’t afford to touch any of those funds for another three years at least if they wanted any of it was to work.

Even if that meant enduring moments like these, carefully going through their apartment and dipping into their emergency stash to last the end of the quarter.

Really, Justin was lucky they even had that much— even if something deep inside them nearly cried, because they shouldn’t have had to do this ever again.

Justin Hammer couldn’t remember it, but they knew, as sure as the sun rose in the east and taxes were due on April 15, that surviving in winter on a shoestring budget was a miserable experience. Especially when they had a next to empty pantry, and the only saving grace to this mess is that the end date was roughly three weeks away, and at least didn’t have to worry about electricity or running water this time— and wow, that bar wasn’t on the goddamn ground.

Okay, so, that was where they were at the moment. Not great, but they could work with this.

Their emergency cash would get them several pounds of rice and beans for the apartment, and on campus there would soon be dozens of RSOs holding celebrations for either the holidays, end of term, or both. Justin liked to think they were fairly well-liked, it shouldn’t be too hard to secure an invite or five to something with free food. As a bonus, they’d be able to network and set out feelers for people interested in tutoring; Justin might not be a genius, but they were studious and if even one person was up for it, they’d be able to supplement their emergency cash for future situations.

Okay, that’d work, and with the bonus of not needing to go to the pawn shop. Off the top of their head, Justin had a few first editions and a few other things lying around that would probably get them through a few months, but they'd rather avoid that route if possible.

Okay. They could do this.

[yoongsisbae]

Just read yoongi superhero verse again and suddenly wondering about y/n & jin closet story… can you elaborate a bit more about it? I think it is just hilarious 😅

Anw, new masterlist looking real good 👌🏻

The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet

Drabble-extended scene for Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Super!Jin x reader.

Why yes, I can elaborate. Honestly, luv y/n but Jin is the real victim in this story having to put up with y/n's chaotic thoughts all night lol... Also thank you!! 🥰 Finding the right header pictures to highlight the ahem 🍆 subject matter of the stories was a fun challenge 😋

Warnings: this is just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts, it goes there...chaotic, slightest mention of family abuse just for context.

---

“But we’re the most powerful and you know it, Weather Man. Plus, I deserve compensation for being partnered with Jin last night.”

Hoseok scoffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “Oh really? I heard it was the other way around, that you spent most of the night thinking about ghosts to scare Jin,” he shivers.

“Jin started it,” you mutter, unable to tell Hoseok being in a confined space with the mind reader, who spent the night teasingly pressed up against you had sent your mind straight into the gutter, much to Jin’s utter amusement. So you decided to amuse yourself as well.

---

Jungkook holds your body steady as you acclimate to your new surroundings and you thank the teleporter by placing both of your hands around his neck, shaking him back and forth. “Did I not specifically tell you to warn me if you hop me somewhere,” you hiss, tightening your grip on his throat. “Is that too much to ask?!”

“S-Some h-help?!” Jungkook wheezes, letting you jerk him around like a rag doll, hoping you’ll stop before he loses consciousness.

‘Shhh!’ Seokjin steps behind you, covering your mouth before you can scream all the ways you’re going to make Jungkook regret teleporting you away from your awaiting bath.

Jin lands his other hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and everything is plunged into pitch black darkness, even darker than it was before, your surroundings so void of any light you feel like you have been momentarily lifted out of the confines of your physical form. Your hand is in front of you but you can’t tell how far and you can’t grasp onto or feel anything.

‘Everyone stop. Calm down. You’re going to blow my cover goddammit.’

‘Turn on the lights!’ you yell in your mind, and perhaps it’s just your imagination, but it feels like an echo spoken in a dark chasm. It makes you feel like you’re falling and spinning all at once. You reach out to your sides to steady yourself and feel softness, the “walls” moving away as you reach your digits out, causing another dizzying sensation.

Jungkook, or who you think is Jungkook, moves closer and your bodies stumble against one another. The warmth of the two men pressed against you grounds you only slightly in the void.

‘It’s not actually dark.’ Seokjin’s voice echoes in your mind. ‘I just made you think it’s dark. It’s complicated...a mind thing, you know.’

‘No, I don’t know,’ you retort back annoyed, but you can’t help the panic inside you rise. If you could only just feel the light switch, but you don't feel anything but Jungkook and Jin and your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and eardrums.

You hear a small tiny whimper from who you assume is Jungkook again and everything comes back into focus, a small halo of light coming from a door you didn’t notice before, the very dimmed screen of Seokjin’s cell lights up your faces, and you notice clothes on either side of you. The three of you were in a closet. ‘Why did Jungkook hop you here?’

“I asked him to. I got it from here, JK.” Jin whispers.

“You owe me,” Jungkook growls lowly, clearly agitated, dematerializing quickly before you can grab him again. You whip your body around to face the mind reader.

He holds his hands up in surrender and then places his pointer finger to his mouth to remind you to be silent. ‘Okay okay, before you blow up the place, I need to tell you that we’re here on a mission-’

“What! ‘Mission’!” You glare.

‘Collection.’ You’re familiar with the code word, untensing your body, knowing you won’t have to fight tonight. ‘You’re here in case anything goes wrong. You know, brain-’ he gestures to himself, ‘-brawn,’ he finishes, gesturing to you.

You look at him stunned. The audacity of this man! you think knowing full-well Jin hears you. Really? Really?!

You close your eyes to calm yourself and hold up your fist, exhaling slowly.

Silently flicking your pointer finger out you cause Seokjin to fly backwards as you glare at him.

You point down and his body lands forward roughly on the closet floor.

Seokjin grunts, failing at lifting himself up. ‘You’re obviously smart too. I didn’t mean it that way! I was just thinking of our talents! And you’re proving me right you know. See how strong you are!’ Seokjin flails on the ground like a pinned bug until you’re satisfied.

‘You know, you tend to overreact about things,’ Seokjin grunts. ‘It might be a side effect of your powers...we all have them. I recommend meditation, I could help you with that...’ Seokjin can’t even lift his head, the gravity around him feels heavy...crushing, as if his weight has quadrupled. He heaves out air, finding it difficult to breathe. ‘C’mon, it was a joke, y/n! And we do make a good team, don’t you think? Remember when we made that housing commissioner cry?’ he laughs to himself while his body remains sprawled at your feet, his ridiculous giggling echoing in your mind as well.

‘How long do I have to be here?’ you scoff, releasing your telekinetic hold on him and rolling your eyes as the mind reader gasps for air, rolling onto his back.

‘Until I get some good intel, which shouldn’t be too long, this woman’s mind isn’t exactly a deep breadth of knowledge. But their daughter, teenager, rebellious spirit, doesn’t like how mommy and daddy dearest controls her life. Could pull some interesting stuff.’

‘Which one this time?’

‘Fourth District.’

‘....the one whose brother-in-law literally owns a private real estate company? That’s who he’s trying to flip?’

‘And that’s why we are here!’ He pushes you towards the coats.

You sigh and swing your arms and part the rack of hangers in a dramatic fashion, imaging this was how Moses felt when he parted the sea. You weren’t exactly giving salvation, but perhaps your actions would eventually save lives, you hope so...at least to make this night worth it. Jin joins you, fully hidden with you as you move the clothes back in place.

‘I miss when we just stole their shit,’ you think, sighing. ‘This is boooring.’

‘Grand larceny was fun, but we gotta evolve, right?’ Jin's voice evades your mind. ‘If the structures of the human mind remain unchanged, we will always end up re-creating the same world, the same evils, the same dysfunction-’

“Tolle...Evolve or die...” you murmur. “Can’t there be a third option? What about evolve, die, or just chill for awhile?”

“This is pretty chill, no?” Jin turns his head to you, winking. You snort.

With Seokjin’s shoulder against your own and jackets all around you this mission feels like you’re playing a game of Five Minutes in Heaven. You start to feel awkward realizing the mind reader’s close proximity to you. Due to his power Jin is the one you avoid the most, even if you do find him the most attractive out of the group.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that makes you aware he was listening in on your thoughts.

You send him a side-eyed glare. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention to your targets, and not me,” you accuse.

Seokjin only smirks and goddammit all you can think is, ‘Sexy.’

---

“You look nice.”

“I’m in a bath robe, Jin,” you scoff, pulling your fuzzy robe tighter around your body.

“I know, it looks nice on you,” he mutters, his voice gruffer than usual. You try not to pay attention to the way his eyes scan down your body, keeping your thoughts away from the fact that you had forgone your bra and panties.

You narrow your eyes on him, the shadows of his features more easily readable now that your eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness. Jin stares back with a meek smile, not giving anything away to your frustration. What does he know...

It’s unnerving you how everything you think about Jin can hear...see...might even feel...you’ve always been too embarrassed to ask any details on the extent of his powers, and the mind reader just loves to cherry pick which thoughts of yours to respond to.

You swallow, wondering if he was getting as hot and bothered as you were. “Can you give me a heads up next time?” you mutter, annoyed. “So I can dress for the occasion.” You look over at his black turtleneck, dark jacket and pants. His shoulders look so defined, you resist the urge to reach out and feel the muscles of his triceps.

“We are in a closet full of clothes,” he whispers.

He’s staring right at your chest when he says it. You would call him out for it if you were not just eyeing his chest just moments ago, more annoyed by the fact that he could so easily look into your mind and know exactly the affect his gaze was having on you.

“You think about me a lot, huh?”

“Only because you’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

‘Hottest,’ ‘hot hot,’ is he thinking it or are you? you think, mortified.

Jin grins, looking past you and focusing on the task at hand.

---

‘...Why is your hand there!’ you yell the question in your head, making the mind reader jump and subsequently squeeze your left ass cheek tighter.

‘Where else am I supposed to put it? My hand was falling asleep holding onto the railing,’ Seokjin’s whiny voice permeates your mind.

‘Jin, this closet is bigger than my bathroom! Just...move over!’ You glare at him, yet his words rematerialize in your mind, ‘Where else am I supposed to put it?’ and now all you can wonder about is the length and shape of his dick.

Seokjin snickers.

Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking-

It doesn’t help, like it hasn’t helped for the past two hours. All you can think about is Jin’s body, wondering if he has abs, how wide his back is, just how much muscle is hidden under the layers of the conservative clothes he likes to wear. You curse your curiosity, there’s just so many Jin-centric questions sprouting like wildflowers in your mind, covering every crevice of your brain, a garden of madness you can’t stop watering.

Your mouth is watering.

You clench your fists, focusing on the pain. Jin doesn't seem to like that, at least you think so? Ugh!

For two whole hours the mind reader in question hasn’t acknowledged your slow downward descent into the gutters inside the pits of the second circle of your own personal hell. Apart from one hand placement that he so easily excused away, the advantage of his unreadable thoughts agitating you to no end.

“You could just ask me what you want to know.” The heat of Seokjin’s breath against your ear makes goosebumps bloom over your shoulders.

“I don’t want to know!” you hiss.

“Sure.”

Ugh. It's so easy for him to say that, his thoughts are not exposed like yours...you feel so exposed, naked...

Great, now he probably knows what you look like naked. At least what you think you look like naked. Oh god.

STOP THINKING!

“Like I said, meditation would work wonders-”

“Found anything out?” you change the subject.

Jin sighs, his cheeky demeanor dimming slightly, “Yeah...” focusing back on his targets.

“What is it?”

Jin looks up abruptly, ‘Move back!’ he pushes you deeper into the closet, moving quickly until you’re both in the farthest corner, concealed by shirts and pants.

The closet door swings open and the light clicks on. Seokjin covers you with his body, his dark clothes providing the perfect cover.

‘Was this really necessary?’ you swallow, staring directly at his neck, Jin’s adam’s apple moving as he swallows as well.

He’s closer than ever now. You can smell his aftershave. Goddammit, this does not make you a creep, you defend yourself in your thoughts.

Hangers click together as someone rummages through the dresses.

“Honey, what are you doing?” a sickly sweet call comes from the mother.

“Borrowing your dress, mom!” she yells back.

“Well sweetheart, you have your own dresses, don’t you?” The way she enunciates ‘sweetheart’ is dripping with condescension, even you could notice the disdain.

But her daughter doesn’t want to wear another frilly ugly infantile atrocity her parents make her wear when they are out in public as a family, a costume portrayal of ‘the perfect family.’

Tonight she was going out with her friends and could be herself. She looks through the dozens of dresses her mother still keeps and cannot fit into, still clinging to her youth. “You’re not going to miss it, I promise...bitch,” she says under her breath.

‘Our Nation’s future,’ you think.

‘Her mom is a bitch though.’

‘Oh. Spill the tea.’ Anything to not think about his crotch pressed against yours.

‘I don’t want to tell you. Like I thought, you tend to overreact...not that I think it would be an overreaction...but, there’s other ways to make them pay.’

‘And so Tae can also get what he wants, I presume.’

You watch Seokjin’s brow furrow, his eyes darting left and right, and up and down, like he’s reading through invisible book, his jaw clenching every once in awhile. You wonder what ‘it’ looks like; a mind, inwardly cringing at what your mind must look like to him.

Jin was working through the troubled mind of a teenage girl. Nights partying with tablets to forget her childhood, parties like the one she was going to tonight. He is more concerned with other parties, the ones her parents frequent. But gossip only goes so far, physical evidence is what Jin was searching for, things that were under lock and key, encryptions, passwords, where might those be...

The lights go off again as she finds a dress she likes. Jin pulls out his phone, contacting the tech talker, sending him a couple key words and a heads up on where to start his online search. If there was any evidence left, Yoongi would most definitely find it, but parties like that operated on anonymity...unless Seokjin can find out when and where the next rendezvous might occur. It's the holiday season after all, get togethers were bound to happen. The elite loved their seasons tidings and their debauchery. He focused on the mother-

“Everything okay?” you whisper.

“Of course,” he looks down at you, a charming smile disarming you even further. You wonder what secrets this man has...

“I’m pretty much an open book.”

“Yeah right.”

---

“Y/n.”

By now you’re feeling the stuffiness of the confined space, the heat of Seokjin’s body pressed up against yours, still cornered by him.

“Hmm?” you look up, thinking he was ready to leave now.

“Do you want to fuck or are you going to spend all night thinking about fucking me?”

“S-Stop looking into my thoughts!”

“Well, you’re getting...louder. I’m flattered you think I can do all that, though! We could try out that split thing you were-”

How are you going to explain to Tae that you had to murder his friend over dick?

“Whoa, whoa, let’s not think about that!”

Too late. You were definitely imagining murdering Kim Seokjin. Except you were also thinking about fucking Kim Seokjin, thoughts twisting into a deranged scene where you were cock-riding him Gone Girl style. Oh god what is wrong with you?

Seokjin snorts. Now you just want to die.

And then he kisses you, silencing your thoughts completely.

“You...”

He keeps his hand on your chin. “Meditation. It’s helped Hobi. Unless you want to...?” He licks his lips. ‘...without the knifing part please.’

“Just collect,” you stutter.

Seokjin grins, you’ll warm up eventually.

---

Your joints ache, you roll your neck, rubbing your muscles and taking away the pain.

Seokjin cracks his back, sighing.

‘Turn around.’

Seokjin does as you think. You drag your hands across his back, your powers taking away the stiffness in his body and warming his joints up.

“60 cm,” he answers your thoughts, smirking. You roll your eyes. That can’t be the width of his shoulders, can it?

Jin doesn’t answer you.

You wonder what his power feels like, but because you don’t really ask him, Jin doesn’t answer you. You’re going to have to be braver to get answers like that from the mind reader.

Ugh why does he have to smell so nice? What is that, pine? It reminds you of...Joon.

You wonder what Namjoon is doing right now, it’s late, he’s either out, stopping another criminal, or at home, in those gray sweatpants...

Seokjin clears his throat. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning on clothes. ‘How much longer?’

‘Until they fall asleep, I guess.’ Jin sits down on the ground, stretching his legs. ‘Come here,’ he holds out his hand for you, opening and closing his fist cutely. You roll your eyes again, but comply, using him as a chair, sandwiched between the wall and clothes.

Seokjin massages your shoulders. ‘Feels good,’ you sigh.

‘It feels better when someone else does it for you, doesn’t it? Can’t do that cool trick you do, though.’

You lean against him when he stops. You could probably fall asleep like this. You’re tired, and a bit sad now that your thoughts drifted to Joon. Christmas is coming up, maybe you should go visit him, offer him an olive branch in the spirit of Christmas. Has he found someone else to keep him company for the season? It pains you to think about it, but it hurts you more to think of him all alone in his big apartment when you used to spend the holidays together, getting drunk and karaoking Christmas carols. Has he even put up his tree yet? You were the one who always reminded him to do it...

When did you start playing with Jin’s fingers? He interlaces them together when you notice.

“So you think I’m hotter than Tae, huh?”

‘Cocky bastard.’

“Should you really start thinking about cocks again?”

Just when you were starting to enjoy his company...you should have known this was too good to be true...

“Aww, c’mon! I’m only teasing. You make it so easy to get under your skin.” His arms that had been conveniently placed around your waist slowly inch under the slit in your robe.

‘Don’t even think about it, Kim.”

“You’re thinking about it enough for the both of us. If I didn’t know better I would think you enjoy showing me all your naughty fantasies.”

‘They are not fantasies! Intrusive thoughts, that’s all, dammit! And you are an intruder!’

“Technically, you are also an intruder here too. But you know, the others are fully aware of my capabilities and no one else’s mind turns into the karma sutra.”

Ugh! You’re thinking maybe you should just fuck Jin so you’ll finally stop thinking about fucking him.

“I think that’s a great idea!”

‘Pfft.’ The real thing can’t be that great.

Seokjin laughs at you, as if to say, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

‘We’re not fucking on a mission.’

“But that would be so hot and you know it.”

Nope. No. Nah. No no no no. Lalalalalalala.

Oh god the singing, this was Seokjin’s least favorite means of deflection.

‘LALALALALALALALA.’

‘Oh Jin, please fuck me with your thick fat cock!’

You freeze. That was your voice randomly popping up in your head moaning out his name. ‘You planted that in my head.’

“Hmmm I’m pretty sure you thought that before, I think.”

It is late, you still want to take a bath, and Seokjin has officially gotten on your last nerve. You yell at him in your head to get Jungkook to hop you home right now!

He adjusts your position in his lap. “No can do. He won’t be back until sunrise.”

You imagine blasting a hole through the roof.

“...fucking is still on the table.”

You imagine fucking Seokjin on a table….dammit!

“…or on the floor.” Seokjin eggs you on.

‘Lalalalalalala.’ Imaginary Seokjin is equally as aggravating, thrusting into you on tempo.

Can’t you think of ANYTHING else?!

You were supposed to be relaxing in a bubble bath, dammit! Bubbles, shaving your legs, face masks, think unsexy things, y/n!

Hot chocolate, that new horror holiday movie on Netflix, the one with the ghosts-

Jin stiffens next to you, and for some reason all moaning ringing in your consciousness is muted into silence.

A veiny withered gangrene hand appearing from the darkness in the closet’s corner, knuckles cracking, the tips of its long yellow nails dripping with blood as it reaches out closer towards you and Seokjin.

You focused on that thought, imagining each deathly looking digit clearly in your mind-

Seokjin flinches, head hitting the back of closet wall.

“You’re scared?”

“No!” Jin hisses. He frowns at the way your eyes twinkle mischievously.

You imagine a long haired white robed woman sitting next to you and Jin. Jin shudders, hands tightening around you, hiding his head behind your shoulder.

‘Y/n!’ Jin yells your name in your mind, eyes tightly shut, not helping in hiding your louder than life thoughts.

“What.”

‘I need to be able to concentrate!’

‘Oh but you were perfectly fine with all the sex! Stay out of my head and you won’t have to worry-’

‘Your thoughts are loud, y/n,’ Jin accuses you.

‘THEN LET ME GO HOME.’ Maybe you should quiet down, you could feel both yours and Jin’s heartbeats pumping unusually fast despite not having moved, huddled in the corner together.

His hands are still in your robe, skin to skin contact. You’re not turned on, you’re not! Zombies, ghouls, that one creepy kid with the black eyes-

‘Stop!’ Jin jumps, squeezing you, a hand conveniently cupped tight around your breast.

Your thighs clench together. Fuck...‘You first!’

You’re both breathing fast.

‘...okay maybe I have been planting some thoughts here and there.’

...oh.

An imaginary demon screeches and zooms around your heads.

Seokjin almost screams.

You snicker.

‘You’re so cruel,’ Seokjin whines.

‘I must be cruel, only to be kind.’

‘Didn’t he fuck his mother?’

‘That was Oedipus, Hamlet just murders everyone.’

‘Oh right.’

You think about a skull, dripping with blood, chattering away in your ears instead of naked Shakespearean actors.

Seokjin jolts against your back. ‘No more!’

You giggle deviously. Four more hours until dawn just seems like not enough time alone with Jin.

[foster-the-world]

Finished

Spent a few hours shopping today. Needed to get the kids and myself winter things. I think the kids are set. The girls winter coats from last year still fit. Still need to press order on a new winter coat for myself. I've lost about 25 pounds recently enough so all of my old pants didn't fit. I'd like to lose another five or so - so that I can gain it back at Christmas :) Although, generally happy to maintain. Feels good to be more health conscious.

I've been searching for a great pair of comfortable winter shoes. Probably an Ankle boot type that I can dress up or down. Any suggestions of super comfortable shoes are welcome. I'm happy to pay more for something that will last. In the past I've ended up buying things that aren't comfortable and wearing sneakers instead. I already have a food/fashionable pair of Nikes, a pair of snow boots and a pair of rain boots. The snow boots/rain boots will last at least a decade and I get good use of them in NYC. I did order a returnable pair today. Will see if they are comfortable.

The Jewish Community Center offered a mini photo session. I think I have outfits everyone can wear but need to double check. I think I have everything ordered for Halloween.

Sometimes the third kid stuff feels overwhelming. One of baby boys classmates asked us to carve pumpkins with them this weekend. I missed the message so we didn't go. It reminded me that soon enough I'll now have a third kid that wants to have friends over, etc. Now that he's in school I'll need to plan Halloween treats for his class, also. That means 45 bags total and that's only because of our small class size. With most NYC schools I'd be looking at 3 classes times 30 kids in each. Our school doesn't have a room parent situation. I'm not sure why? I generally offer to send in a Halloween craft, cupcakes, juice, etc to help out the teacher. I also make it clear there is no obligation. I figure if I don't do it the teacher will pay themselves. My Aunt always sends the Micheals craft kids - so those are covered. So far, all of the teachers have happily taken it. The PTA also plans a Fall Fest I'm helping organize. The Police Athletic League is offering jumbo games and a blow up football field (not sure what that is??). They are asking for candy donations - so I got a huge bag on sale this weekend. Its a simple event but the kids love it.

I'm thinking of doing a party in baby boys class the day he is adopted. The adoption should be online so it won't have much fan fair. I thought it might be nice to bring cupcakes and read a book about adoption and/or how there are many types of families. The girls will join. I thought about seeing if we could do it in the gym with all three kids class. The party/event will mean more to the girls then baby boy. Previously I had thought about not celebrating at all but have since revisited the idea. I'm hoping its appropriate to celebrate as long as we also acknowledge the loss in the long run. He's three now so none of it means much to him. He does tell us he's adopted. He does understand he has two dads, two mom's, etc. Beyond that who knows what he gets? We will keep talking so he keeps learning more.

Our first foster daughter is 7.5 and lives with her Grandma. Her mom has had three more children. This past weekend the youngest kid (9ish months old) was removed and given to Grandma. I don't really understand how its safe for the other two to stay but not him?? Grandma said "she has them for now"?? Grandma never seems particularly stable to me but I hope it all works out. Poor babies. Poor Grandma. Poor Mom.