#i was just checking my email and saw that i had something in my span acc and i clicked on it and it WAS A JOB INTERVIEW AND I LITERALLY

[londonsboy]

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[sarasolqiree]

badly written tooth rotting dad!davey shaw fluff

tw ; lazy ending im tired my back hurts the efforts i go through to please the masses (31 followers) smh

today was all david could think about as he dragged himself in the door, keychain looped over his limp fingers.

"hey buddy, do you think you could have a look at the email i flicked through? it's about that gig on saturday, with...". just thinking about what he'd have to tackle tomorrow had his eyes half-lidded, shoulders slumped forward and back curved with the burden of soon-to-be-exhaustion. "interview with local woman gathers the attention of the locals; was security company CEO "david shaw" infact responsible for the tragic events of the inversion?" his feet dragged along the floor, going through the motions of his coming-home routine. david slipped off his shoes, trudging down the hall and making a stop at his office to set down his paperwork, preparing them for tomorrow. once his brain was satisfied with the order of the stack, he set off to find his dear little family. as he did, he began to mentally flit through all the other things he needed to attend to.

"we think there was a shade sighting in the area.. of course ( sweetheart ) n' i are gonna check it out, but just wanted ta let you know. also, about that event on sunday..."

after skimming over the rooms of the house and finding them empty, david finally reached the kitchen, discovering you and your daughter in the midst of baking something together.

his heart swelled, watching you stand behind her and guide her little hands into the dough. she was sporting a little pink apron that matched your larger one, hers tied in a neat bow resting on her lower back. her hair was tied into two little french braids that ended at her waistline, the length due to your hesitance to cut it. something about hair holding memories or some other bullshit.

she had a big grin plastered on her face, which grew more cheesy as she lifted her hand and slapped it down on the dough directly against your instruction. he leant against the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he waited for you to notice he was there.

once you did, your face of focus broke into a grin of it's own, gently tapping your daughter on the back and pointing over to david.

"look who's here, honey," you say softly, you now both watching her follow the direction of your pointed finger with her eyes and immediately lighting up when she saw who was on the end of it. without second thought, she leapt off her little stool and swiftly waddled over to her father, who crouched down to eye level, arms wide open accepting her embrace, albeit a bit sticky from the mixture.

she barreled her body into his chest, little arms locking around his neck and squeezing him into a hug. david grunted at the sudden weight, hand resting splayed across her back for support and other hand cradling her head to his shoulder.

whatever negativity remained of today's events immediately melted away once david had his baby in his arms again. he let out a long sigh, burying his face into his daughter's hair and breathing in the scent of her strawberry 2 in 1. being that the hug was coming from someone with the attention span of a goldfish, the gesture didn't last long, and soon she was clumsily running back to her stool to finish the job.

you walked over to your partner, helping him up from being crouched on the floor. with your daughter busy trying to knead the probably already-over-kneaded dough, you took the oppurtunity to greet david yourself with a kiss. as of late, your daughter had entered the "kissing is gross" phase, meaning you had to time when and where you could give your own damn husband a kiss.

"you okay?" you ask, pulling away from his lips. you gave david's bicep a squeeze, tilting your head at him. your eyebrows knitted together with concern, eyes searching his desperately for any hidden cue about how he was really feeling. you reached up to cup his face, which he leaned into with a sigh.

"mmph.. just glad to be home, angel," your partner mumbles, looking up at you through heavy eyes. he melted at your touch, trying to focus on the feeling of your thumb rubbing back and forth on his face.

"are you sure? you can tell me anything, david," you say firmly, planting your first on your hip, much like you do when your daughter is misbehaving. david smiles, letting out a breathy chuckle as he opened his mouth to talk.

"angel-"

"ooopps!" the squeaky voice of your little one and a loud, suspicious splat interrupted the intimate moment between you and david. as it turns out, while you weren't looking, your daughter had attempted to ball up the dough by taking it off the table and rolling it in her palms. unfortunately, the ball was much larger than her small hands, and almost immediately fell out of her grasp.

you sigh, looking at the pitiful stickly glob of dough on the floor before turning to face david.

"i'll clean her up, you okay with dealing with the uh... that?"

david chuckles, prying your hand off his face with a nod. he leans back against the doorway, watching you begin to attempt wrangling your daughter's floury, sticky squirmy form out of her apron and into your arms. as you walk past with a giggling toddler in arms, he gently pinches your cheek. "goodluck with that, angel."

"mmph. good luck to you too, sweetiepie!" you call out behind you, laughing to yourself as you hear david's cringed-out groan.

[themanifestingbrat]

I manifested a new job!

But not just any job, this manifestation is pretty much life changing for me as I get to work in my desired city, make lots more money, and also live there for a discount!

✭ How it started✭ Obstacles✭ How I used my Imagination ✭ How it manifested

✭ How it started

So I already was tired of the job I was currently at and I needed a change. I had a difficult manager, annoying clients, and I wanted to move to another city.

I occasionally checked my company's website for new positions and kept my options open for a good month. During this month, I was still deciding between what I wanted but once I figured that out, a new opportunity was posted. It was literally calling my name! It was my desired location and a brand new building. So I immediately told my manager for her approval and applied.

✭ Obstacles

I didn't hear anything for two weeks and in those two weeks, I started feeling anxious because I got a random thought that I would be fired from my current job. It was totally random and it gave me a really bad feeling but instead of fighting it, I decided to flip it and affirm that I got hired at the new job.

After weeks of not hearing anything, I checked back to my work email (that I never use) and saw that they denied me because they couldn't get a hold of me! I almost freaked out but remembered who I was and stayed calm. I reached out to the manager to apologize and ask for a interview and she said YES!

My co-workers, although very supportive, kept putting negative thoughts into my head of how my manager would react to me wanting to transfer because she's so strict and needy. I didn't take it personal and I would affirm to myself that my manager adores me and supports me.

After my first interview with the new manager, she said she would reach out the next day for a second interview with another higher up. I didn't hear back for another two weeks but instead of assuming the worst, I returned to the state of someone who got the second interview scheduled. I even chose a day that she would email me back and when I would have the interview and it manifested in a week!

✭ How I used my Imagination

Now, I didn't do this to get anything or see results, I naturally did it to fulfill myself and also for fun.

I used affirmations here and there. No, I didn't track how long or when I would affirm. If I caught myself falling out of state, I would just shift back and maybe affirm once or a few times until I felt confident.

I imagined before bed of me working at the new job. This is something I naturally did because I love visualizing exciting possibilites before bed (sometims too exciting and I wouldn't fall asleep haha). I imagined what the office would look like, what my new coworkers could look like, what I would wear, etc. I created different scenarios that could happen.

After a few weeks, it did feel natural. I was bragging to my family that I would get the job. I even made a pinterest board of all the new outfits I needed to buy, I chose a new hairstyle and nails, basically thinking from.

✭ How it manifested

Regardless of what the 3D showed, I had the mindset I already had the job, cause "how can I lose if I'm already chose?" lmfao. After basically going through 3 interviews in a span of three months, the new manager called to offer me the position! I also forget to mention I wanted to manifest higher pay and the pay ended up being a few dollars over (hourly) than what I was okay with!

This job offers an opportunity to live onsite at a discount and it's a brand new luxury property! Now I am going to manifest living there at my desired rent, move in date, and all the other stuff that come with getting a new place!

[peacereturnedtothevalley]

My tumblr and online life history. If you even care (it’s long and rambling I’m bored on a plane)

[pretend there is a read more button here and just keep scrolling]

I got a tumblr summer of 2011 bc my brother kept showing me #fresh memes and around that time my online activity was scrolling endlessly though canihazcheeseburger network of meme sites. I was 17 so lol 12 years…

it started with memes and fandom type gifsets (and following some irls) but after a year or so I completely entered my #sjw era and nothing a decade ago is perfect but I’m always vaguely thankful for tumblr putting me in that direction

in 2015 I got frustrated and locked myself out of my account on purpose and then could not reverse it the next day because I changed the email to an email yahoo decided to delete lol.

I made a new account soon after but exclusively for following and reblogging steven universe stuff but I ended up becoming more and more general again after a few months… I remember so much mess and drama but I also never directly talked to any of those people so it was just a one person stomach ache time

Got really into taz in my last quarter of college in the summer (monster factory a few months before) and this was what made me start a twitter in 2016… I never talked to people directly online before as much except a handful of mutuals (hi if you’re still on here) so slowly joining in that was fun! Also messy I saw all of the highs and lows of taz fandom, made and lost friends (mostly from the periphery of a group but a handful of direct breaks lol) and in that actual play space I had friends get into friends at the table… I listened to a few eps of counter/weight and could Not keep it going so when twilight mirage was starting it was a good opportunity to follow along instead of a backlog. Also finally realized I was slowly iv rating to tweeting full time rip

Also 2017 I made a few fatt friends but I was scared to talk to the fandom bc I still liked taz a lot and fatt fans you know how we are (I too am like that now) but anyways I had like 10 followers to my name and nothing to lose so I started posting more in 2018 and I have gained lifelong friends in the fandom since :’) I feel like twilight mirage was such a contentious era so I got really close with my #tmstan friends and all the stress of that time is a memory now….

I did listen to almost every season eventually but I did fall off of keeping up with fatt 2021/2022 I think (so sorry sangfielle)

unexpected side plot of my life is loona and kpop in general. I was vaguely into loona from seeing stuff on tumblr in 2018 and something clicked for me with the butterfly comeback in 2019, as in it was the first time I was watching performances on music shows and it was really cool to me and I also had no idea what was going to happen to me (the great 2019 loona hiatus) and I slowly was starting to follow kpop liking accounts outside of a handful of tumblr people I followed on twitter and unfortunately the hiatus made me check out other groups and I love the music (loved…? It’s still good when it’s good but it’s not always good) and understood too much about the minutia behind the industry but I also made more lifelong friends (I hope? Hi carbs)

Kpop era coincides with my not listening to sangfielle era but I think my attention span was shot and all I wanted to do was fill my head with music…

Wait okay I had also a career change (don’t worry about that) and also got really into final fantasy xiv. So that’s another era of my life that is neither fatt or kpop. I was gaming so much and I love my cat girl and my catboy wife. I started right before endwalker dropped and now I’m too caught up but I was solidly playing for 2 years straight. I’m playing Zelda for now but I’m almost done

Okay anyways fatt season palisade started up earlier this year and my fatt era is back in full swing. Went to a fatt friends’ wedding this april. Palisade is really good every week. And now twitter is dying so I have returned to Blog for Real. I’ll post my cohost hear if I end up there more lol

[tanjaded]

responses for the ask meme!

6– the hand drawn maps and other illustrations from That Time I Got Isekai’d Again. When I saw them, something about it made me kinda happy and sentimental. Like, it clicked to me that ‘Ah, they’re really passionate about their fic and work really hard on it.’ That sounds a little silly writing it out, but I hope you get what I mean. It’s always fun to know you’re reading something someone put a lot of love into.

9– Just about any of them!! It’s nice when I get up in the morning and see an email about you from ao3 in my inbox. It’s like a little treat for me to read while I have breakfast in the mornings, like I’m reading the morning paper or something lol

13– I’ve talked about a bunch of your fics to a bunch of my friends, actually. When I got a friend to watch YS, I recommended you as a fanfic author to check out. The funnier answer to this one tho is that I’ve talked about your fics to my coworkers once bc I was telling them about new words I learned from reading. (The word was ‘Praxis’)

15– It really always amazes me how prolific and consistent you are with your writing. I’m seriously impressed so… what motivates you to write?

It took me a bit to finagle some sort of answer out of my brain but I think I have one now.

I think the main reason I started writing more was because there was a lack of stories that I wanted to see. Like, I read Youjo Senki's Delinquency Record and Amor Enum Vult and Third Times the Charm and all that, but they weren't enough. And I wanted there to be more Tanya/Visha content, which at the time had a very small niche even on ao3

So, I wrote Contractual Obligations over the span of maybe 4 days, and then I realized I loved creating my own stories. Within a month or two, I'd outlined and started my most labor-intensive fic to date, Crushing of a Devil. I still put more effort in individual chapters for that fic than any other, with all the time period research and maintenance of character consistency over the course of something I've been writing for years now.

But why, right? Well, I've always said that I write for myself, and this is still mostly true. I see the story play out in my head and I want it to exist so I can read it too. I just like writing out and about the stories and characters I love. But nowadays I'm also writing bc I know other people like my writing too. I still think about sometime last year, commenting on a youjo senki fic and getting a reply saying "hey, did you know you inspired me to even write this".

The thing about stories, in my mind, is that they should exist. And I'm able to make them exist my writing them. And people will often actually like them? That's usually motivation enough.

[misteria247]

I know I'm probably sounding really annoying and most likely borderline narrassitic but like I'm just in awe because I checked on my fic A Universal Collision (email went off letting me know that I had gotten a few new comments) and I saw the hits on it. Like literally last night it was 3,990 something and now it's like up to the 4,000s and I'm just like beyond honored and flattered and lowkey speechless by all this attention like it's just insane.

It without a doubt blows my mind seeing this little self indulgent project suddenly blow up and become so big in such a short span of time like it's just so crazy to me. I've like never like experienced that kind of attention before for one of my fics so I'm just kinda reeling and if I'm being honest I'll probably be reeling for the rest of my life sgsgsgsgsg.

Anyways yeah, I just.....seriously thank you y'all so much for reading my stuff and enduring my insanity both on here and on ao3, y'all have no idea how much that means to me. Love y'all lots. ❤💙💜🧡💚💛

[dayeongi]

Well-wishes

I saw the texts come in this morning as I worked.

They came from a number I didn’t have saved, but I saw a preview on the notifications. Words like “I’m sorry” and “I didn’t know how to handle...” and my breath caught in my throat.

Almost as soon as I realized who it was, the last text came in. It said “i’m X.”

I managed to swallow the trepidation and finish off an email to let the dread settle comfortably before I opened them. They looked to be long and emotionally destructive.

X had been my best friend since the first day of preparatory school. From the very first day I got to school 3 hours early because I made a mistake with my timetable, and she asked if I was always early, and I said yes, and then that was the last time I was early to school.

She’d been there for 11 years. Through my father’s death of Covid, she had brought a chair and sat outside my house, brought me groceries, and chatted with me through the glass window for the entire 14 days I was quarantined. And that made it worth the times she’d stood me up or let me down, or made me wait for hours because there was always something going on.

She had been there through my first boyfriend and first serious crush (which were two different people). She had been there through the abusive household I lived in, and I was there through her first serious relationship with a mutual friend, from the beginning through its messy end, I chose her every time, because I thought that’s what best friends were like. And I was there as much as she let me be.

Last I’d heard from X was in 2021, she’d told me she was in an unsafe situation with her stepfather at home, and asked if she could move into my spare room, and pay rent. I said come, don’t pay rent, just help with the utilities and groceries.

She said yes, and dropped off some of the things that same day, and she slept over. Next morning before she left for work, she said she’d drop by her current place and pick up the rest of her stuff after work. I said I’d wait for her to come back to order groceries so we could save on delivery fees and gave her my spare set of keys.

She called during work hours, and said she would be coming over tomorrow; she was afraid of her stepfather so she wanted to get her things out when they were out.

I said that was fine since she had keys anyway, and asked if she wanted me to wait to order groceries.

She didn't show up the next day. Or the next.

This was normal from her. She never kept her word.

I messaged just to check on her and ask if she still wanted me to hold off on the groceries.

No response for another two days. I started to get nervous. I ordered the groceries because I'd ran out of stuff, and messaged her again.

I let her know I could just take care of the delivery fees. No response for the rest of the day.

Then, a premade-like message. "I'm sorry, I can't answer right now, but I'll get back to you ASAP."

Like the ones you set up on your phone to be sent automatically.

I started to panic, because I didn't know her stepfather, and in my country, you can make people disappear with under 100 gbp, and she'd recently had experienced a situation almost like that with a taxi driver.

I thought, "what if I'm sitting here, thinking she's fine and just not getting back to me, and instead she's dead in a ditch somewhere."

My best friend of 11 years.

I called several times. Several being maybe 4 times in the span of an hour, which wasn't strange for us.

I calmed myself, and decided I'd been dumb not to check on her social media; I normally don't check people's profiles at all.

What I saw was surreal. I'd been there, sitting in my living room floor thinking my best friend was dead; she had been so urgent, and seemed so frightened.

During that time, she had been going on brunches, and on a roadtrip with her fiancé.

The change of plans itself was irrelevant. It was the lack of consideration. The shamelessness of putting me on hold without giving me a word.

I called her again. No response. I stewed on it for another two days, waiting to hear back.

Nothing.

I sent her a message. "I just think it's unfair that you asked me to do this for you, then left me waiting here to hear back from you for over a week, worried out of my mind."

No response that day. Or the next. I message her again. "Please let me know when I can go pick up the stuff (I'd lent her for a trip)"

No response, until later that day. It has been 2 weeks since she came to my house panicking about needing somewhere to stay immediately.

There was no apology. Instead she said she would drop off my spare set of keys, and she needed some space from me, and maybe one day we could be friends again once I was in a better headspace.

That she had no reason to report what she was up to every minute of her life, and that if it had been such a pain to wait for her, to not bother.

To add insult to injury, that she loved me and would be there for me if I ever needed anything.

I snarked back. I said things like "I don't need to know every single thing you do every single minute, and sorry I give a shit about you"

Then she took everything I'd ever trusted her with, all the times I'd been frustrated with my family and told her, and used it to say I was the problem, that I was the reason I always had interpersonal conflict, and the reason my life was the way it was, and I needed to reflect on myself and the shit path my life was taking.

She sent me her love again. My best friend of 11 years.

I didn't send her love back. I only asked to get my shit.

I will spare anyone who is reading the boring negotiations and promises she never kept to give me back my stuff, until she finally did.

She dropped them off at my place. It was raining. I awkwardly avoided looking anywhere above her hands; I knew I would cry if I did.

I thanked her as I closed the door out of politeness.

On text, after I'd closed the door after myself, she'd sent me her love and well-wishes again.

Like she hadn't riled me up and prepared me to help her. Like I was a wet stray under the rain she looked at pitifully.

Well-wishes. Hah.

I blocked her the very moment I saw them.

I hadn't hear from her in a while until a mutual friend shared the photos of her wedding.

She had taken the dream wedding dress design I'd made for myself, that I had so delicately and secretly shown her, and made it for herself.

I blocked every mention of her from everywhere, and over time I realized, I was starting to feel like a full person again as soon as I stopped constantly giving her everything.

I put my face on the desk.

Which brings me to today, and the 5 deleted messages. From an unknown number.

I pointed out I could see someone had tried to message me.

"sorry, I got the wrong number," she said, and I thought: how fucking unfair to mess up my tuesday and try to play me for a fool. How fucking evil and selfish of X to wish me a good day and try to deceive me into taking her well-wishes again. All for her own comfort or healing or whatever she was trying to do by messaging me on a fucking tuesday.

But, honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to X. Too much has happened. Too much time has passed.

I didn't want to be carrying around a piece of her anymore. So I pretended to buy it.

And X decided to text me back. "Sorry. I actually didn't get the wrong number. But I don't want to tell you who I am because I'm afraid. Regardless, I just want to wish you a good day."

Some part of me relished in the fact that she was scared. So I said "thank you, X."

I wanted her to feel what I felt when I saw her messages pop up on the screen, then disappear.

Maybe I wanted to fuck up her tuesday too because I'm also a coward.

And because I'm a coward, I pretended I guessed, but wasn't sure if it was really X.

"We can play a guessing game. I'm someone who likes to shop around for useless stuff. And I always scolded you for eating your fries before your burger."

And I said "so you're really X." Even though I'd always known, from the 5th, deleted message.

Bracing myself for impact, I read the messages she sent after. About how sorry she was about everything that happened, that she had been a fool and I'd been a great friend, and she hopes everything is going well for me.

How if I ever wanted to, we could go get a burger together again.

For a moment, I thought about saying yes. Because she'd been my best friend for 11 years. Because I was lonely. Because she remembered I like to eat my fries before the burger.

Then, I remembered how she'd known exactly how to hurt me and hadn't hesitated in my lowest moment, then skipped-off into the sunset with my dream wedding dress for a wedding I haven't been able to hold for myself. Apparently now self-reportedly with regrets.

How she had selfishly tried to give me unsolicited well-wishes to ease her own guilt.

Too much has happened. Too much has been said. Too much time has passed. The scar of the space where she used to be is old and gnarled, but a scar.

I replied, "I'm also sorry about how everything happened, and I always did wish you the best."

X seemed to falter. She typed and deleted. Typed and deleted.

She thanked me for giving her my time.

She said she hadn't know how to handle her own situation and emotions and everything had just gone out of control, and she'd done it all before she'd realized it, and then got scared to try to fix it.

X seemed to have realized what I meant by not responding to her burger invitation thing.

She said again she'd kept me in her good memories, and although she knew things couldn't ever be the same again, that she regretted it.

I thanked her, etcetera. Wished her a good life.

Sincere, I mean. 

I'm not sure if I was sincere, this only happened today. I don't know what I'm feeling.

But I want to think my well-wishes were. 

It's the best I can give her now.

I want to think I said it out of gratitude for those 11 years. For the time she stood outside my house when I was afraid I was dying every time I gasped for breath.

Of the time that I told her I was afraid I wanted to off myself, and she drove to my house at 12:35 AM and held me as I cried.

Well-wishes. 

The only thing I'm willing to give her now.

[coochiequeens]

Ladies in Idaho and Wyoming reblog to help the family of Irene Gakwa

CNN)Irene Gakwa's last WhatsApp video call with her parents was filled with gentle ribbing. But beneath the banter were hints that something was off. 

When her face appeared on the phone screen, her dad teased her that she looked hungry and tired. Her smile was more subdued, he noted. Her short hair, usually braided, was rumpled. 

"Make sure you drink hot milk and relax," her dad said from his living room in the Kenyan capital of Nairobi. 

That was February 24, the last time anyone in her family saw her. 

A month later -- less than three years after Gakwa left Kenya for the United States -- her family reported her missing. At the time of the February video call, Gakwa's parents were not aware she was living in Gillette, Wyoming, with a man she'd met on a Craigslist forum.

They also had no way of knowing that police would later accuse the man of removing money from her checking account, maxing out her credit card and deleting her email account. And they never imagined that six months would go by without a word from her.

"She's always been a daddy's girl," said her father, Francis Kambo, in a recent phone interview from Nairobi. He took a deep breath as he recalled that last video call with his only daughter and youngest of his three children. 

"She was supposed to come home for Christmas this year. I was going to buy that ticket myself for her to come if she couldn't afford it," he added, his voice shaking. 

"Now I don't know if I'll ever see her again." 

Her worried family members span two continents 

Gakwa's worried family spans two continents 9,000 miles apart. 

Her parents live in Nairobi while her two older brothers, Chris Munga and Kennedy Wainaina, live in the Idaho city of Meridian -- a Boise suburb.

Her father started worrying in late February when she did not respond to repeated video calls. This was unusual for the 32-year-old, who spoke to her parents about every other day.

And her written messages sounded odd, her family said. Instead of the mix of Swahili and Kenyan slang she uses, the messages were in stilted English -- like someone was using Google Translate to send them, said Wainaina, her oldest brother. 

"The texts would be out of place," her father said. 

In early March -- between the last video call and the day she was reported missing -- her parents received some short WhatsApp messages from her account. Some made excuses for why she wasn't doing video calls. 

"Dad, I dropped my phone in the water and now the microphone doesn't work,"one message said. 

Another said, "I just want you to know I love and miss you and mom." 

"We miss you ... we want to see you, not just chat on WhatsApp," her father responded. "We love you always. You will ... be my daughter forever." 

Her boyfriend told police she packed her bags and left 

The last WhatsApp message came on March 9, her father said. 

The three siblings share a cell phone family plan. After Gakwa's brothers could not reach her, they looked through her phone records and called a close friend she'd talked to numerous times. 

That's how they found out she had been living with her boyfriend, Nathan Hightman, 39, in a modest three-bedroom house in Gillette. The couple had dated since 2020, but had broken up several times, Wainaina said. Her brothers thought they'd parted ways and were not aware they'd rekindled their romance and moved in together.

Her brothers reported her missing to the Gillette Police Department on March 20, and an officer talked to Hightman the same day, according to an affidavit of probable cause in a related separate criminal case against her boyfriend. 

Hightman told the officer he last saw Gakwa in late February, when she came home one night, packed her clothing in two plastic bags and left in a dark-colored SUV, the affidavit said. He told police he hadn't heard from her since. He also said he withdrew money from her bank account so she would be forced to contact him if she needed money, the affidavit said. 

Hightman did not respond to the brothers' request to hand over her stuff in their home, Wainaina said. They implored him to give them her documents, including her Kenyan passport, but Hightman declined, Wainaina added. 

Hightman is considered a person of interest in her disappearance and has "not made himself available to detectives looking to resolve questions that exist in the investigation," Gillette police said in a statement. 

"We believe he has information pertaining to the disappearance of Irene, but he has elected not to provide that information to law enforcement at this time," Gillette police detective Dan Stroup told CNN. 

CNN has made repeated attempts to reach Hightman via phone, text and email, but he has not responded. CNN also left messages for his public defender, Dallas Lamb, but did not hear back. 

Hightman has not been charged in Gakwa's disappearance, but is a suspect in financial crimes against her after she went missing. Gillette police arrested him in May and charged him with two felony counts of theft, one felony count of unlawful use of a credit card, and two felony counts of crimes against intellectual property for allegedly changing her banking account password and deleting her email account after she vanished. 

Between February and March, Hightman transferred nearly $3,700 from Gakwa's bank account to his own and spent an additional $3,230 on her credit card, court documents allege. 

He also changed her banking passwords and deleted her Gmail account, court documents said. All the changes were made from an IP address associated with Hightman after the date he told police Gakwa had moved out, according to the probable cause affidavit. 

"This would indicate it was Nathan Hightman accessing Irene's account, removing money and changing the password to deny access to Irene," the affidavit said. "These transactions began on February 25, 2022, and continued through March 2022." 

Hightman has pleaded not guilty to all charges and was released on a $10,000 bond. His pretrial conference is scheduled for November.

Her adopted community is pushing for answers 

Meanwhile, Gakwa's two brothers and her sister-in-law have been commuting to Gillette from Meridian several weekends a month to organize search parties. Most days, they have no idea where to begin. 

They've visited morgues and hospitals. They've checked shelters for unhoused people. They've launched a website, whereisirene.com. They've asked local authorities to check whether she joined the US military -- an idea she briefly entertained. 

Some residents of Gillette, a city of 32,000 in northeastern Wyoming, have rallied to find her. Wearing T-shirts that read, "Where's Irene?" they've hosted weekend search parties and canvassed neighborhoods seeking permission to put up missing person signs. It's not unusual to see images of Gakwa posted in the neighborhood where she lived with her boyfriend. 

"No family should ever have to go to bed at night wondering where their loved one is," said Stacy Koester, who lives in Gillette and has been organizing searches with a group of local women since April.

They've mapped out areas to search and marked off where they've already looked so they don't go over the same place twice, Koester said. 

"We promised her father and her brothers that we will never stop searching until we bring her home or they have answers," she added. "That's our goal. We are their family here in Gillette." 

Koester and other neighbors also have gathered outside Hightman's home, holding signs and chanting, "Nate, where's Irene?" 

Sometimes, her father watches the demonstrations via video from Kenya. 

But with every passing day, hope fades a little. 

Her parents had mixed feelings about her move to the US

Born and raised in Kenya, Gakwa emigrated to the United States in May 2019, hoping to launch a career in health care. A petite woman, she stood just over 5 feet tall and weighed about 90 pounds. 

At first, her parents resisted their introverted daughter's plans to move to a faraway country. They worried about how she'd adjust -- she was so shy, she barely left her room in their suburban Nairobi home to go outside, her father said. 

"We sometimes had to remind her to get out of the house and get some sunlight," her father said. "But we decided since her brothers are there, why not?" 

Gakwa settled first in Idaho to be near her brothers, with dreams of attending nursing school and working in a hospital. She lived with the younger of her brothers, Chris Munga, and his wife, Gyoice Abatey, in Meridian. 

There, she developed a close bond with her sister-in-law. Both women took a girls' trip to Los Angeles in 2020, and in between shopping, eating out and visits to the beach, Gakwa confided to Abatey that she was dating Hightman. Gakwa spent a lot of time with him on the phone, Abatey said, but did not share many details about their relationship. 

Abatey described her sister-in-law as a sweet, fun-loving person who started her mornings with a cup of tea and enjoyed cooking, shopping and watching Nigerian movies.

"She's such a free spirit, so caring, goofy, she just goes with the flow," Abatey said. 

Gakwa and Hightman eventually moved in together in Meridian, and she started nursing school at College of Western Idaho. In the summer of 2021, they relocated to Gillette, where she transferred to Gillette Community College. 

At times, her father would ask Gakwa if she wanted to return to Kenya. 

"She'd tell me, 'Dad, I'm good. I have my own life now,'" Kambo said. 

In the months before she vanished, Gakwa returned to Meridian several times to visit her family. 

Last Thanksgiving, they gathered at the house of Munga, her brother. There, she and her siblings made their favorite African delicacies, including goat barbecue, jollof rice and ugali, a form of corn meal popular in Kenya. 

Gakwa cooked a side of cabbage with lots of tomatoes -- just like their mother used to make while they were growing up. She taught Abatey how to make it for her brother. 

They ate and talked late into the night. 

That was the last time her siblings saw her in person. 

Her boyfriend allegedly bought boots and a shovel using her bank card 

The Gillette Police Department said it has executed approximately 24 search warrants in the case, including at Hightman's home and at several banks to track activity on Gakwa's accounts. 

During one of the searches, investigators recovered a shovel and boots Hightman bought at a Walmart in late February using Gakwa's Visa card, according to court documents. 

In April, Gillette police issued a statement naming Hightman "a person of interest" in the case and saying, "he has not made himself available to detectives looking to resolve questions that exist in the investigation." 

The police added, "Irene went missing under suspicious circumstances. ... digital evidence, including location data, is also being analyzed and has provided positive leads." 

Stroup, the detective, said the investigation is ongoing. 

"In the event probable cause is established, appropriate action will be taken," he said. 

Her family is struggling between hope and grief 

Gakwa's family is still holding out hope that somehow she'll contact them or come back home. The alternative is too hard to bear. 

Abatey wishes she'd held Gakwa a little tighter the last time they hugged. Her children ask over and over where their aunt is. 

Gakwa's 33rd birthday was in July, and her nephews thought if they threw a party, maybe she'd show up. Instead, they held a Zoom vigil. Her friends and family shed tears and shared memories and photos of her, struggling between using past or present tense. 

"Whether we meet in this life or the next, know that you're absolutely loved," one friend said. At the end, they played a video of a beaming Gakwa dancing and singing along to "Drogba (Joanna)," a song by UK artist Afro B.

"My children don't understand why auntie is not calling them, how she just disappeared," Abatey said. "Sometimes I just imagine her walking through the door, and saying, 'Why are you looking for a grown woman like me?' As the days go by and nothing happens, we don't know what to do." 

Thousands of miles away, Gakwa's parents pray for her every night. Her mother is too distraught to talk to reporters, but Kambo, her father, said sharing memories of his daughter helps him cope. 

He chuckles when he remembers their close relationship. 

"She was my only daughter. I spoiled her and she took advantage of that," he said. "She had not introduced Nathan to me -- that's what kills me." 

Some days, he's optimistic she'll make it home for Christmas. But most days, not so much.

"I just want to know the truth. I'm still hopeful, but my hope is dwindling. She knows my number," he added. 

"The fact that she has not called ..." 

His voice trailed off.

[xxloeviexx]

Y'all...

Oh my God

WHAT A STORY I HAVE FOR YOU TODAY

Okayyyy~ So last night around 3am I was superrrr bored, sleep deprived, and not in my right mind so I went onto my sister's discord server and kinda just scrolled around the channels. Then, I, um.. I saw a discord server invite from somebody (idk who) and it was for a mod server. I didn't read anything else about it, I just saw "mod" in the title and joined. So in order to get verified and gain access to that server, I had to verify or whatever? I was using discord app for PC so I pressed the verify link and it opened Firefox (which I rarely use) and it said to log into my discord. I wasn't signed in on there so obviously I put in my email + pass and guess the fuck what? I logged in and it didn't verify so my low attention span ass just gave up and went to sleep.

THE NEXT FUCKING MORNING

I woke up at around 9:20 in the morning and I checked discord and I had HUNDREDS of dms. I was so confused like "it's not my birthday or something wtf😭" and I checked AND SOME BITCH HACKED ME AND SENT DISCORD SERVER INVITES OUT TO EVERY SINGLE CHANNEL IN EVERY SINGLE SERVER I'M IN. AS WELL AS ALL OF MY DMS AND GROUP CHATS. Like oh my God I was freaking out when I realized what happened. I had been muted, put in time out, and banned in multiple servers. I'm in like 30+ servers btw. I spent over an hour deleting every single invite that I could find, there was so goddamn many. The hacker sent them starting at 7:45 to 8:10 in the morning, like an hour before I even woke up!! Like shit bro I have people hating on me right now because they didn't know I had gotten hacked😭😭😭

Long story short

Don't join the discord server "JobCord (Collab Managers & Moderators)" Don't accept ANY invites to that server 👍

[babyboiboyega]

I can explain (Shangqi x f!reader)

Shangqi x f!reader

Prompt: “When everything’s going wrong, the mere thought of you makes it right.” + never wanting to pull away kiss

Content: a little angst, but more fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

A/N: this is my first ever time writing for Shangqi (or Shang-Chi), and I already have a lot of other ideas for this incredibly loveable character.

I hope you all enjoyed this!

A heavy sigh left Y/N’s mouth as she unceremoniously dropped onto her couch. The feeling of her limbs relaxing into the cushions almost prompted a moan of relief to follow the heavy sigh. It did, however, make her eyes flutter closed as she leaned her head back.

Y/N had been thinking of this moment the entire day. The moment when her week ended and her weekend began; a weekend of not having to deal with rude, angry-at-the-world customers who decide to yell at her because a privately owned publishing warehouse doesn’t print the book that they want. Or the customers who don’t check their emails for their tracking information and then get mad at her, for some absurd reason.

Another sigh leaves her mouth, and this time with the sigh goes her thoughts of work, entering the empty air for the weekend. 

But being off on the weekend didn’t exactly mean being absolved of texts and calls from fellow coworkers, ranting about customers, or even management. So when her phone’s ringer went off, signaling a new incoming text, she simply kept her eyes closed. She certainly had enough time to read and reply...but maybe later.

The text had already migrated to the back of her mind in the span of a few seconds...and then her phone went off again. This time, two quick “dings” sounded through her apartment. 

Her eyes opened before she slowly sat up, her phone coming into view. Before she could spare another though about her phone and it’s notifications, her hand quickly reached for the remote and pressed the power button.

She managed to flip through a few channels before her phone rang once more, and this time it was accompanied by a few knocks on her door.

Completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 11 at night and she hadn’t been expecting anyone, and being fueled by her now very obvious annoyance, it only took her a few strides to reach her door. In all honesty, she’d had no idea what she was going to say to whoever was on the other side of her door; but whatever had been ready to leave her lips died as soon as she opened the door.

“Shaun?”

She hadn’t been able to control the volume and surprise in her voice, and she saw his grimace in response. She couldn’t find it in herself to care if he didn’t like the volume in her voice; the very next emotions she felt surge through her body was...well, it was a cross between worry and anger. 

“Y/N...hey.” He had a sheepish smile on his face; one that showed off his dimple. One that she had to restrain from returning. But then she remembered the last time she had seen that same smile and the last time she had even heard from him. Her eyebrows raised incredulously.

“‘Hey?’ ‘Hey’?? That’s all...that’s all you have to say to me after being gone for...a month? And some weeks?” 

She could hear the hurt in her own voice, and it made her want to cringe at herself.

‘He could have been doing more important things than worrying about you’ is all that went through her mind.

Her arms crossed self-consciously in front of her.

“Please, let me explain. It’s… it’s actually crazier than you think.”

The hesitance on her part came from her nagging thoughts that flipped between “he was genuinely busy” and “he’s about to make up some absurd excuse for why he hasn’t spoken to you while also letting you down gently”.

“May I come in?” His eyebrows were raised as he gently asked for her permission. Y/N quickly nodded and stepped to the side before her thoughts could scare her too much.

His eyes stayed on her as he stepped past her, entering her apartment. She took a second to take a deep breath before closing the door behind him. 

She briefly wondered how her face looked as she turned to face him. Did she look as hurt and worried as she felt? Could he see her feelings on her face?

“I’m sorry for disappearing for...as long as I did. And I’m sorry for not reaching out at all during that time. But I can explain why.”

His eyes followed her figure as she walked slowly around her kitchen counter. He made no effort to hide the pleading look in his eyes, and he only began talking when Y/N raised her eyebrows from across the counter. 

“Okay. Just...bare with me.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed and more questions filled her mind as she watched him take a breath as if he were bracing himself. 

Y/N hadn’t known what to expect when he had started talking, but she definitely wasn’t expecting a story filled with martial arts, trained assassins, ancient organizations, soul-sucking demons, and dragons. 

Even after he had explained everything, his eyes watching and waiting for her reaction, she still couldn’t find the words to express herself.

Her body was frozen in its same position, and her eyes were wide and staring right at him. As the silence stretched between them, he couldn’t help grimacing slightly once again.

“Also, my name isn’t really Shaun. It’s Shangqi.”

That last piece of information seemed to finally shake Y/N out of her stupor, as she blinked quickly and let out a quick breath. 

“I...I don’t know what to say.” In all honesty, all of this was kind of making her head spin, and it was evident in the way her breathing picked in just the slightest. 

“W-What exactly do you say to someone who’s just saved the world? ‘Thank you’? ‘I owe you my life’- because, I guess, technically, I do owe you my life. Because of you, I still have my life- or my soul.”

At her rambling, Shangqi’s expression shifted from one of wariness to relief to a little worried. It had only just crossed his mind that he was worried that she wouldn’t believe him, and not worried about how she would receive the information.

She believed every word that had just come from his mouth, simply because she knew that he wouldn’t lie about something like this. She knew that he wouldn’t lie to her… at least she hoped he wouldn’t.

“You don’t have to say anything. I...I just needed you to know why I was gone. The thought of letting you go one more second thinking I just...left you was driving me crazy.”

A humorless laugh forced its way through Y/N’s lips. 

“Yeah, thinking I had driven you away was driving me crazy too.”

Before she could even regret her words, her eyes were drawn to Shangqi, whose head was shaking quickly. In a few steps, he had walked around the counter, coming to a stop a few feet from her. 

“That was never the case, I swear. You could never drive me away, not even if you tried.”

At the minuscule smile that appeared on her face, he risked taking another step forward. 

From where he stood, he could smell faint traces of her favorite perfume that had slowly worn off during her day. Her favorite perfume had quickly become his favorite scent, simply because it reminded him of her. 

From where she stood, she could easily see the faint signs of exhaustion on his face. No doubt from the strains of the last month and a half. It made her want to reach out to him. 

“Every second, from the moment we left, all I could think about was coming back to you. Even while staring into the face of a-”

“A mega soul-sucking demon?”

The quiet laugh that left his mouth seemed to weigh on her body, but not with pressure. Instead, all she felt was warmth, and it coursed through her veins with the power of 11 suns.

“Yes,” there was laughter in his voice as he responded, “even while staring into the face of a mega soul-sucking demon.”

As he spoke, he had gradually moved forward until taking a deep breath would easily have their chests brushing against each other.

Y/N couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice as she spoke, her eyes flickering between Shangqi’s.

“You...you really thought of me when you were saving the world?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as his hand raised and gently cupped her cheek. Soon after, she felt pressure from his forehead connecting with hers. Without hesitation, her own hands lifted, coming to grasp at his sides, desperate to pull him closer.

His breath fanned across her face as he spoke, and it made her hands tighten.

“When everything’s going wrong, the mere thought of you always makes it right.”

His words were quickly swallowed by Y/N’s lips pressing against his with fervor. The hand that was on her cheek gently titled her head back as he kissed her back with just as much passion, while his other hand wound around her waist. They both pulled at the other, as if they couldn’t get close enough. 

The warmth that had been coursing through her veins quickly turned into leg-numbing electricity the longer their lips were connected. Her eyes were closed, and so were his, but they could both see the other’s face behind their lids, surrounded by the stars their presence created. 

The only thing that could pull them apart was the need for air, and even then, as their foreheads connected and their lips stayed hovering over each other’s, they breathed the same air.

Shangqi’s words were shaky as he spoke, his thumb rubbing circles into her skin.

“You make everything right.”

**********

Once again, I hope you all enjoyed this! I would take requests for this character, but I still have a ton of requests for LOK....

But maybe sometime in the near future!

In the meantime, I would appreciate it if y’all would interact in any way with this! Comments, criticism, questions, etc would be amazing, as would reblogs, but even just liking this helps!

Stay safe, y’all!

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[033] — epilogue!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: this is definitely not my best writing cause my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this, but i honestly can’t believed i have finished yet another smau! 🥳 ✨if i’m being completely honest this smau took a complete turn to what i was initially planning,, but it ended up not being that bad. i certainly feel like this smau would’ve been a lot better if i didn’t have school preoccupying me 24/7, but i’m still really proud of this. thank you guys for reading and dealing with this messy, messy smau!! ☺️

a year flew by faster than you had hoped. Two weeks turned into a month, a month turned into six, and six months turned into a year. A lot of things can happen within a year. Hell, a shit ton of things can happen within six months, yet here you were, all glammed up in your best dress at the move premiere of love cemetery.

you hadn’t felt this nervous in ages. the quickening of your pulse, the rapidly beating heart, to your pals that perspired as the seconds ticked on by. akaashi stood by you this whole time as your gaze keeps looking over to the guest list as if it were to magically change if you were too look away for one second. akaashi had been by your side, your moral support and the absolute backbone of your sanity the moment you and the team landed in los angeles a year ago. he noticed everything about you. he was one of your best friends, how could he not notice the way you were suddenly quiet and not excited right now?

he laid a careful hand on the small of your back to comfort you, leaning over to the same list of guests you were worrying about. “are you worried about who i invited again?”

“i’m more worried they’re not coming.” you confess without a single beat missed.

“oh, they will,” he assured you confidently. there was even a rising smirk in his expression when he let go of you, “have a little bit of faith in me will you? i was the one who got you back in touch with them.”

you huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you recalled the strange feeling of isolation over six months ago when you landed in la. it was in no doubt the longest flight of your life, lasting a good fifteen hours if you counted the two hour layover in hawaii due to reckless turbulence (it was one of the scariest flights in your life too). you had read their texts then, drowning in the sudden downpour of emotions when you read their words, i love you.

it almost didn’t seem real. you swore it had to have been the fatigue playing games on you as you couldn’t sleep for the life of you on the plane. yeah, maybe that was it, you excused. you were so desperate for their messages to be a figment of your imagination, you literally tried everything—turning your phone on and off, asking sugawara for eye droplets, and even ignored it until you were back on the plane and landed in los angeles. it had to be fake, please be fake. yet, in the back of your head you knew damn well it wasn’t.

there was a plaguing thought within you, one that’s so destructive and degenerative that you hated the fact you thought this way. but it wasn’t like you could help it. insecurity was a troublesome venom that coursed through your veins everyday and there didn’t seem to be an antidote to your own self-destruction. 

you loved them both, but you weren’t entirely sure if you had enough love to give for the both of them, let alone one. iwaizumi and bokuto’s feelings confused you to the core. you broke their hearts, yet how could they still love you so dearly?

you didn’t know the answer nor did you have time to even find it.

the film crew stayed in los angeles for two weeks and filmed over the course of that time period. days were filled with twelve hour shoots and a tight film schedule. being the author of the work itself, you were a major part of the production alongside the director. he trusted your vision and you’d often find yourself staying on set the entire day while kaori and the rest of the ddd team felt like they were on vacation. your only free time during that time was the ten minute holy grails in between takes that you were able to check social media.

you simply didn’t have the time to think about them. and yet they were like haunting ghosts that followed you relentlessly. every time you checked twitter or instagram, you would see every post, every tweet, every story. all of which would send your heart spiraling and tugging.

you missed them. but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. you couldn’t possibly strike up conversation with any of them after completely ignoring their calls and texts for weeks. you had to have an odd amount of audacity to do that, and you simply didn’t have the guts to do so. if anything, the only lasting form of communication between you and the boys was the ringing notification that you liked each other’s posts.

it was quite the sad reality.

the film set then transferred to new york city, where the next two weeks would be filled with yet another plethora of twelve hour work days. fortunately for you, the rest of the ddd team were pulling a bit more of their weight, helping you on the creative side of things, yet still having the time to do all the fun touristy things whilst in the city.

you could remember the way your heart lit up seeing iwaizumi and bokuto’s names beneath who saw your story. it was a video of you and your team at the lady liberty statue. in it, kaori and yuko were chomping down on gigantic $2 street hot dogs, sugawara was yelling at semi for getting in the way of his film camera, while akaashi was complaining that the wind kept knocking down his green lady liberty hat.

it was strange thinking how fast things can change. within the first week, you were always up for an adventure in the city when the days were filled with work, but as the week progressed, your social meter decreased more and more. 

loneliness hit you then. it was a peculiar type of loneliness, the type that you felt alone despite being surrounded by your closest friends and working on your dream project. you figured you were just homesick the way everyone else was getting all ready for a night out going bar hopping while you sat in the living room of your hotel room in your pajamas.

“are you sure you don’t want to come with us, (y/n)?” kaori asked you, concern washing over her slightly as you flickered her a tired look. 

you shook your head, a small smile of gratitude melting upon your lips. “no, you guys go on ahead and have fun.”

your friends could only give you a look. they knew why you were being like this and they knew damn well it wasn’t homesickness. semi specifically threw you a look that’s meant to be teasing and oddly persuasive. “it’s been over a month, this can be a chance for you to finally meet someone new!” he exclaimed optimistically.

what was stopping you, anyway? it was clear nothing was, yet you still held yourself back. homesickness couldn’t possibly be to reason for it either. why are am i being like this?

“it’s okay, i’m with akaashi,” you decline once more, “he’ll keep me company.”

“alright then, join us once you feel like moving on.” says yuko with a hint of venom in her tone. you couldn’t blame her for saying that though as it was the harsh reality of it all.

your friends filed out the door, closing it in a thud and once again you felt alone. isolated as if you were in a void of your own silent thoughts that even the loud murmurs coming from the television wasn’t enough to drown out your shallow inhibitions. 

the night continued on like this for a few hours. eating snacks in the dark living room with the remote in your hand, flipping channels every five minutes as your running thoughts couldn’t keep your attention span still. it felt like you were missing something, a part of yourself that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. you thought of all of the possibilities why you felt like there was a void in your heart, yet the only thing you could properly convince yourself on was that you just missed home. but was that really all that you had missed?

you thoughts are interrupted by steps approaching you. akaashi walks into the living room, flicking on the switches and causing you to grimace at the bright lights. your eyes stung slightly as they adjusted from being in the dark for too long.

“where are you going?” you ask akaashi as you noticed his dressed up attire.

“i got done with all the paperwork and emails,” he answers while he fixes the collar of his dress shirt, “i’m deciding to have some fun tonight with the rest of the group. are you still up for it? i’ll wait for you to get ready if you want.”

the thought occurred within you that you should agree. that the possibility of this unexplainable feeling of isolation you were feeling would disappear if you were to just say yes and go. but as self-destructive as you were on yourself, you continued to hold yourself back—hesitant and always second guessing your actions.

you open your mouth slightly, but you ultimately just shook your head no.

akaashi lets out a sigh. he was genuinely hoping you would come around sooner or later. granted, it had been over a month since you guys left japan and he figured you would be over everything by now, but that obviously wasn’t the case. “you might be receiving a call soon... i suggest you should answer it.”

confusion flushed over your expression, giving him a strange look. but before you could even utter a single question to him, akaashi was already up and out the door.

he left you in a wake of curiosity for the rest of the night. it was nearing one in the morning and you still hadn’t yet received a phone call. it honestly sounded incredibly ominous that you grew a tad bit nervous. there were only so many possibilities on who would call, but it would actually infuriate you if akaashi was just joking around. but then again, akaashi isn’t the type to play something childish like that unless it was kaori or semi’s idea. regardless, the thought kept you awake as you eyes practically weighed like cinder blocks at this point.

you couldn’t believe you wait for two hours for a phone call that might not even happ—it shocked you at first, the ringing of your obnoxious ring tone and the buzzing of the vibrations on the table.

furrowing your brows as you reached over, a gasp left you the moment you read the contact name. your slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your shock. your hand shook from the growing bundle of nerves in your gut as you hesitate.

the name ‘kou’ shined brightly against your face, coaxing you to answer as if your thumb wasn’t frozen the accept button. out of all the possibilities on who would be calling you tonight, it just had to be him. it wasn’t like you opposed talking to bokuto. if anything, you had spent countless of sleepless nights wondering if you should finally answer that text of his. yet no matter how many different messages you have typed, none of them ever saw the light of day. a hurricane of stupid conversation starters and ice breakers swarmed in your head, all messy and disorganized that if you didn’t just suck it up and answered, you would’ve probably missed a chance to reconnect with him.

fuck it, you thought as you accepted the call.

“(y/n)!” bokuto called out to you, sending your heart running thousands of miles an hour. it had been ages since you heard your name come out of his mouth, “how’ve you been? a little birdy told me you needed a little company.”

you had to hold yourself back from smiling too much as you could already feel your cheeks ache. you wanted to scoff and perhaps groan at the sudden embarrassment of what akaashi could’ve told him. “bo—” you started, but is immediately cut off.

yet another familiar voice emitted from bokuto’s line, almost as if they were shouting, “you’re supposed to say that i’m here too, idiot!”

the volleyball player chuckles, “oh sorry, iwa-chan! here.” muffles and cups clanking against each other travel through to line to what you assume is bokuto handing his phone over to iwaizumi.

“uh... hi.” his voice sounded deeper than usual.

“hi iwa, how have you been?” you chuckle, finding his sudden shyness absolutely adorable.

“good, good. i’ve uhh... missed you.”

“i do too.”

“yeah, yeah, you miss me most though right?” bokuto’s loud voice thunders through the call.

the juxtaposition of how daftly different they were was something you could never get enough of. perhaps it was at that moment you finally understood your loneliness through their bickering. you were in fact homesick, but the home that you were thinking of wasn’t what you were missing the most. you suppose the home you missed was them. they were your home.

you let out an amused laugh, “right.”

“that’s good because iwaizumi and i should be mad at you for ghosting us for the past month, but we understand since akaashi explained to us already.”

your eyes suddenly widen into saucers, panicking what he could have possibly said. “what did he tell you?”

“everything,” bo sings.

you audibly groan in embarrassment, throwing your head back onto the couch in retaliation. you were glad they couldn’t see how flushed and red your cheeks were right now as they even extended out to the tips of your ears.

“you know it would’ve been easier to say that you love the both of us and didn’t want to choose right?” iwaizumi points out in between your panic.

“exactly!” cuts in bokuto, “besides we don’t sharing you, you know. who knew you were such a prude, (y/n).” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you couldn’t stop the heat from spreading any further from your face.

now you were really glad they weren’t able to see you at that moment. if they did, you would’ve died from the embarrassment then and there. “give me a break, i was too embarrassed to ask,” you mutter, fearing that they could hear how fast your heart was beating through the call.

“ask what?” iwaizumi teases, “ask if you could date the both of us?”

you were internally screaming at this point. everything that you didn’t think was going to happen, happened all within five minutes and you honestly couldn’t believe it. you were pinching yourself as if you were in a dream, yet no matter how hard you squeezed, this was actually happening. “shut up!” was all you could say.

“even if you did ask... it’s not like we could ever say no to you, (y/n).” says bokuto, his words so enticing that you weren’t sure if you’re heart can handle any more of this.

his words left you absolutely speechless. you honestly didn’t know what to say at this point.

"i’m fine with it and bokuto’s fine with it.” iwaizumi says, “it’s just a matter if you’re willing.” 

bokuto then leans forward towards his phone, “so what do you say, (y/n)?”

you swallowed the lump of nerves forming into your throat as the one question you never thought you would ever be asked was right in front of you. and yet you still hesitated despite everything that had just happened. you loved them both, so why weren’t you answering?

a few beats of silence passed before your gained the courage to push out the the very words, “... i’ll think about it.”

“boo! that’s lame!” bokuto shouts.

“i’ll give you guys an answer when i get back home.” you add, hoping to ease the disappointment they were probably feeling at that very moment.

“that won’t be for another few months, though.” iwaizumi deadpans that you could practically see the pout on both of their faces. “but we’ll promise to wait for you, (y/n).”

and so they waited for you to come back home, but you never did. schedules misaligned even when you were finally back home in tokyo. bokuto was getting progressively more busy now that the olympics were coming up and iwaizumi was just as busy, if not busier with the amount of athletes he had to take care of. there was even a constant flying back and forth from tokyo to los angeles for the film, all of which lasted for a few weeks at a time and you swear your couldn’t catch a break.

this went on for months with the only contact between you and the boys were from texting and phone calls that ended up shorter than you anticipated. and now a year had past since you left and this very movie premiere would be the first time you have seen iwaizumi and bokuto for the first time in a year.

this was so ironic how this all played out. you haven’t even realized you already reached the end of the red carpet when an interviewer calls out your name, microphone in hand and a camera pointed directly at your face.

“ms. (y/l/n)!” the woman shouts over the ruckus of snapping photos and other interviewers asking questions to the actors behind you. “there has been rumors going around about your dating life. are you dating msby’s bokuto koutarou or their athletic trainer iwaizumi hajime, who has been getting a lot of attention from stan twitter just recently! could you share some insight on your live life as love cemetery’s creator?”

“um,” you start, not sure how to answer the question as you nervous chuckled, “that’s a secret i’m afraid i can’t tell.”

before the woman could ask you any other questions, you walked away from the carpet and rushed towards the banquet hall. thankfully, akaashi and kaori was nearby and gratefully took your place in the interview without a second thought.

you let out a relieved sigh as much of the noise from the premiere died down as the only people inside the banquet hall were movie critics, the film crew, and other celebrities who were invited. by now, no one in this room would have the audacity to ask you such a personal question which caused weights to fall off your shoulder. you honestly should be used to those types of questions right now as a webtoon author that literally writes romance, but it always catches you off guard when you least expect it. honestly, you were just glad you didn’t slip up.

as a small little reward for yourself, you grab a flute of champagne from the refreshment table, decorated all fancy that you even hesitated to mess up the display. you turn around to face the growing crowd of mingling individuals, talking and laughing amongst each other as you sipped your drink gently. but as you watch you feel a presence on either side of you, both of which sent your heart soaring and a smile to appeared on your cherry colored lips. you didn’t even have to look them up and down to see how handsome they both looked. to think they were all yours.

“so what did you tell that interviewer?” bokuto asks nonchalantly as if he could just get away from a proper greeting. you were surprised he didn’t just engulfed you into his arms then and there.

instead, you opted to play along, “about what?” you tested with a smirk.

“the question about who you’re dating,” iwaizumi adds in from your other side.

you shrug, taking a sip of your champagne, “you guys probably wouldn’t like the answer i gave her.” you could feel the brazen stares bokuto and iwaizumi were giving each other—competitive and oddly provoking.

“she probably said she was dating me,” bokuto hums in response, confidence radiating off him that it caused you to scoff.

“i doubt it,” debates iwaizumi, giving him the same energy. “she probably said she was dating me.”

“actually,” you cut in before the two could possibly start bickering with each other, “i remember specifically saying that i’d thinking about it.” 

the boys give you a look, downing their drinks as if they were like the shots they swallowed many nights ago at that bar. it was as if they were trying to win your over again like your feelings had changed since then. 

“oh yeah?” bokuto starts, inching closer towards you while iwaizumi rested his arm on the table behind you.

“so what do you think, (y/n)?” says iwaizumi.

they both towered over you, just inches away from your body, but you didn’t cower or back away. if anything there was a playful smirk inevitably resting upon your lips.

now this, was going to be fun.

fun facts! —

sugawara has five rolls of film he had to get developed once they wrapped filming in osaka, each roll is from each city they went to for filming

iwaizumi and bokuto became really close friends when y/n left for la as they bonded over getting ghosted

bc of this,, bokuto posted a pic of him and iwa on his instagram and it got lots of attention that iwa went viral on stan twitter

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogrils @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[fullconstellationalt]

You Weren’t My Mission: Ch. 1

Chapter One – A Second Encounter

TW: alcohol, implied violence

Note: Hello! All chapters will have warnings at the beginning of their content and possible triggers. If you find that I miss any triggers, please let me know and I will add them to the chapter warnings as soon as possible. Thank you! <3

Series masterpost

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

His eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it. ･:*:･ﾟ☆

Your thumb swept around the surface your glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that had begun building up. With one final swig you downed the remainder of your gin and tonic, eyeing the entryway on the lookout for any newcomers.

“You all done for the night, y/n?” Vincent wandered over, dish towel in hand, to collect your glass that was now only filled with ice and a slice of lime. He knew your routine by now — you only ever came by for a single drink after work, people-watching as you unwound before heading home to your quiet apartment. While you hadn’t ever told him that last part, he figured that if you had somewhere urgent to be that you wouldn’t be here every night, although he’d never ask.

“I’ll have another, actually,” you declared, voice unsteady as you weren’t sure in your choice. Typically you’d have one drink and leave, occasionally staying around a bit longer to sip on some water if you really didn’t want to go home that night. But the week had been long and it was only Wednesday; you wanted — no, needed that second drink.

“Sure ‘bout that?”

“Yea, I’m gonna hang around a bit longer tonight.” Vincent’s eyebrows raised as he did a slight nod, reaching below the counter for a new glass, to which you let out a playful scoff. “Don’t act so surprised,” you teased, “I mix it up sometimes.” While you rarely talked, you and Vincent had become more comfortable with your banter over the past year or so. Even the most guarded of patrons like you couldn’t avoid small talk with the bartender — especially not if you were a regular.

As you waited for your drink you scanned your surroundings, looking to see if anybody new had come in for a drink. Weeknights tended to be slower, but there were a few couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room. You and a man no younger than 50 were the only ones seated at the bar, him closer to the entrance while you sat furthest away at the seat you knew had the best view of the place. Almost every night you were in this exact spot, sipping slowly on whatever drink you’d ordered, checking your phone for the occasional text message or work email, and people-watching. It was pretty rare for you to spend more than an hour there in one evening, but tonight it had been nearly an hour and here you were ordering a second drink.

You jumped when Vincent placed the new glass in front of you, your mind focused on the other people scattered throughout the room. He let out a light chuckle as he turned around, walking towards the other side of the bar; he was pretty used to your skittishness by now. Hand wrapped around your new drink, you brought your focus back to your surroundings. A couple seated at a small table to your right engaged in small talk, exchanging pleasantries in-between awkward sips of their drinks. Definitely a first date, you thought. A burst of laughter from a booth further away caught your attention, where a group of men in suits sat meeting for a drink after work. Aside from that, there was little commotion in the bar tonight. While commotion made for fun people-watching, you preferred the gentle hum of casual conversations on slower nights, the occasional clinking of glasses from Vincent’s cleaning or a new table being served.

Realizing a few minutes had passed, you grabbed for your drink and took a sip, eyes skirting over the rim of the glass as you spotted movement in the entryway.

Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t ordered that second drink.

A tall figure entered the bar, shoulders swaying with each step. When he came to a stop you finally took him in, eyes scanning over the black leather jacket that spanned his broad frame and running down to his hands. Dressed in all black, the flesh tone of his hand stood out. Which made the metallic black of his left hand all the more apparent, confirming what you had hoped was just another instance of unnecessary panic.

The brooding figure wasn’t foreign to you.

Your eyes glossed over as you remembered the last time you’d seen him all those years ago. While the nightmares weren’t as frequent and you were able to go days at a time without thinking about it, you were still able to vividly remember the moment. The way his eyes had met yours, menacing and unforgiving as you held back a wail of pain from the pressure of debris pressing on, or into, your torso. The fear that ripped through you when you registered the M4A1 in his tight grip, barrel pointed in your direction. The way you laid there, shaking and ears ringing, wishing that he, whoever he was, would keep moving past you, that he would leave you be. He had done just that, only pausing for a moment to assess your helpless position before lowering the barrel of his gun and trudging onward in his search for his true target.

So many times since then you thought you’d seen him again, only to sigh with relief when you saw the two flesh hands of whoever had startled you.

But this wasn’t one of those moments, and the sight of his metal hand confirmed it. It wasn’t silver like the one in your memory, but there were only so many guys out there with bionic left arms.

You came out of your trance to find that his eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it.

With a slight roll of his shoulders and a subtle nod, he dropped his gaze to the floor and began his slow descent towards the bar.

The sip of gin and tonic you had taken still sat on your tongue as you finally lowered the glass, letting the liquid slide down your throat and feeling the tingling sensation travel down to your chest. Your breath was shallow as your hands started to shake, to which you began fidgeting with the closest thing in front of you — the paper napkin that had been under your glass. As you ran your fingers along its corners and kept your eyes glued to the bar top, you felt his presence near yours, confirmed by the sound of heavy footsteps that approached.

The scent of fresh balsam and a bit of mint flooded your senses as you noticed him standing to your side, giving you a moment to take in his presence before sliding into the seat to your right. Having kept your eyes trained on the napkin at your fingertips, you subtly glanced over, noting the metal arm that was closest to you. It’s really him, you confirmed. Instead of a reflective silver like the arm you remembered, this one was much darker, a black metal with hints of gold in between the plates. You couldn’t see further up than his wrist, the rest of his arm concealed by the jacket.

It took everything in you to refrain from bouncing your leg against your barstool. Maybe if I stay as still as possible, you thought to yourself, I’ll make it out of here alive. You had no clue what he wanted and it terrified you.

The desire to fidget became all the more intense as you felt him shifting his upper body to face you while in his seat. Your breath hitched when his flesh hand came into view, extended for a greeting in your direction. He let out a low sigh as you shifted your gaze slightly, glancing at his hand before sheepishly making eye contact with the man who had once both threatened and spared your life. You watched as he slightly parted his lips, allowing for a gentle smile to form at the corner of his lips.

“Long time, no see, Miss y/n. I’m James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and you’re a part of my efforts to make amends.”

Next Chapter (Chapter 2 – Making Amends)

A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story! I'm currently drafting up what will come next, but am in the end of a semester so it may be a few days until I have something ready to publish. This is my first longer work and I'm looking forward to the journey. Stay tuned for updates, and please let me know if you have any comments or questions!

[greatbigbellies]

Another continuation of THESE TWO stories. In part three, Leo finds himself even MORE pregnant than last time. Will he still fit in his living room? Find out! Contains allusions to sex, (basically) rapid preg, hyperpregnancy, weight gain, and belly worship. Enjoy!

Leo looked himself over in his full length mirror, in awe at just how much his body had changed over the last two and a half years. It had been about six months since he had successfully delivered he and Marko’s 50 beautiful kids, and as much as his body had recovered, it had also changed as well. His chest was noticeably larger, but even more so was his hips, widened by his extraordinary pregnancy. Some of the pregnancy weight had stuck too, giving him much thicker thighs and a squishier booty. Overall, he was significantly more pear shaped than when he’d started, and overall, he was okay with that. Marko certainly didn’t mind…

Leo smirked. “I can feel you staring,” he said, able to sense when Marko was ogling him. Marko stepped through te door with a playful sigh, “I still don’t know how you do that. I didn’t make a sound!” he said, stepping up next to Leo, pulling him in by his waist. Marko kissed the top of Leo’s head, causing Leo to smooch him on the cheek, in turn. “What’s going through your mind hon? You’ve been checking yourself out in the mirror for almost ten minutes now,” asked Marko. Leo sighed, “I dunno babe… I’m just… is it weird that I really, REALLY miss being pregnant?” he asked.

Marko shook his head, placing a hand on Leo’s flat, empty tummy. “You carried those little guys for two years, you kinda got used to it…” he smiled, “Besides, we both really enjoyed ourselves with it...” Their gazes met in a loving, slightly charged eye contact, and Leo began picking up on the signals Marko was sending. “Would you… be up for doing it again?” Marko finally asked. Leo’s mouth curled into a mischievous grin, “Only if we can go bigger this time?” he asked. Now it was Marko’s turn to smile, “Like… time and a half?” he asked. Leo shook his head, “Bigger,” “...double?” “A LOT bigger,” Markos eyes went wide. 

“Babe you were full of 50 last time, how much bigger do you want to go!?” asked Marko incredulously. “Why don’t we set ourselves up with fertility treatments, and see where life takes us? Numbers and quotas aren’t sexy, chance is sexy,” Marko’s breath grew a little shaky, “Are you sure you can handle going bigger this time?” Leo smiled, “I’m excited to push my boundaries!” he replied.

Marko pulled him in for a deep kiss, “Your ambition is also sexy,” he whispered. Leo stood on his tiptoes and whispered back into Marko’s ear, “Then what say you we get to work tonight?” he offered. Marko scooped him up in his strong arms, carrying him bride style and turning toward their bed, “I thought you’d never ask!”

And get to work they did. Frequent trips to the local fertility clinic and regular “sessions” in bed quickly showed that Leo’s ability to conceive mid-pregnancy had not waned, but actually increased, much to the surprise of medical experts everywhere. As the two experimented, hey found that Leo was growing SO pregnant that one could actually see him slowly grow larger by the second after the couple had fooled around, a fact Leo would take some time to adjust to…

2 months later

“Are you sure you don’t want to just… email the guy?” asked Marko, a little worriedly, in the drivers seat of the couple’s van. “I want to at least attend ONE class in person, even if I’m too big for the desks!” replied Leo from the passengers seat, squeezed between the back of the chair and the glove compartment. His belly, while still in the first trimester, had ballooned to look quintuplet heavy, and that was a conservative estimate. In order to maintain some modesty at his size, he wore a sleek, black, belly support belt, which covered his underbelly. Over that were dress slacks, which paired well with his maternity button-up dress shirt. The shirt only BARELY reached to the hem of the support belt, but overall, he looked sharp, and it was clear an attempt was made.

“I know you want to take some classes and eventually earn a degree, but… aren’t you making it a little hard for yourself like this?” asked Marko. Leo shook his head, “Naw hon, it’s all part of my master plan. See, I waddle in like THIS,” he gave his belly a hearty pat, “and gain instant sympathy, then I tell the instructor I’m growing too large to get around, and he’ll switch me to his online course, AND grade everything I do with a curve! Because clearly the tired, hugely pregnant guy is doing his best!” Leo grinned a troublesome grin, “meanwhile I’m stuffing my face, getting foot rubs, and half-assing all of my assignments for easy college credits!” Marko shook his head, a little exasperated. “You’re such a little slytherin,” he said, getting out of the car.

He circled around and opened the door for Leo, helping him get to his feet. He gave him a little smooch on the head for luck, “You don’t think our little escapade before you got dressed for this is going to be a problem, do you?” he asked. Leo shrugged, “more belly, more sympathy,” he replied with a little smirk, before turning to waddle away. Marko turned on his heel, and shifted back into the divers seat. He wondered if Leo could make it through the whole class. “He’s grown to love the attention though,” he said to himself, “So maybe he’ll be okay…”

Leo DID love the attention. Compared to his outing at the mall so very long ago, the pregnant man had come to revel in the stares he received. Sure, some were stares of confusion, but more so there were stares of admiration, and curiosity. In some rarer cases, he even noticed a couple stares of jealousy, and a little lust. Leo knew full well that Marko wasn’t the only person into sizable midriffs, he just wasn’t expecting to see so many others. And he could certainly tell who was who in this case. The stolen glances and subdued blushes were all the proof he needed.

When he reached the classroom and stepped through the door, his sizable belly entered before the rest of him, and immediately he was the center of attention. The space was set up like a theatre, with rows of seats lined up, bolted to the floor, with little folding desks built into the arm rests. Cautiously, Leo made his way down the shallow steps toward a middle row, his tummy blocking his view of his feet, making each step a little more treacherous than he liked. He squeezed into a spot toward the right side of the room, close to the door so he could leave easily.

Leo’s wide hips and ass meant he filled the WHOLE seat, with a little overflow, and the front of his tummy brushed against the back of the seat in front of him. He was really starting to feel his size. The other students were clearly trying to be polite, but it wasn’t a secret they were all eyeing him, all secretly wondering if he’d go into labor right then and there. If only they knew… thought Leo with a smirk. 

He tried unfolding the desk to write on, but… his oversized belly just got in the way. He tried everything short of brute force to try to get it to unfold for use, but alas, he took up too much space. He shrugged, and grabbed his notebook from his bag, resigned to use his belly shelf as a table. That was when he felt something shift deep within his body. “Oh no,” he whispered.

He’d started growing again. Marko had been right.

Leo realized that maybe sex right before class wasn’t such a great idea, but it was too late now. Leo felt his button up shirt grow increasingly tight, and the stitches on his slacks and belly belt strain as his body stretched for new occupants. He fought against the friction of is own thighs against the arm rests as he tried to get up, the slowly increasing weight of his belly not doing him any favors. He felt something rip, and jerked up rapidly in response, which just caused a button on his shirt to pop off. PING! It bounced off of the whiteboard, and Leo felt a blush of embarrassment roll across his face.

Everyone was actively staring now, and Leo needed to vacate, quickly. Turning with a wide breadth, he started waddling back up the steps. PING! Another button popped off as his belly belt rode down, exposing more of his bare, pale tummy. He threw his notebook back in his bag and dug for his phone, needing to get ahold of Marko. He could feel his pregnant belly slowly stretch itself bigger, and for the first time, Leo wondered if they overdid it on the fertility drugs.

He burst through the door with surprising speed for a man in his condition, and finally found his cell. Speed dialing Marko, he heard his belly belt pop a little with each step, the elastic failing as he continued to grow. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up!” he pleaded. Leo felt his belly start to widen out, and realized that his belly belt was just growing too tight to be safe. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the belt down, causing his huge and heavy tummy to flop downward form the lack of support.

“Hello? Is everything okay?” Marko finally picked up. “No! This was a mistake! I started growing in class and I’m too big for everything now! Come pick me up!” Leo hissed into the receiver, trying not to make any more of a scene. “Alright, just, go to where I dropped you off, I’ll be right there!” Leo hung up and began waddling toward the exit, his tummy swaying a little more with each heavy step. He could feel his weight increasing as he moved, and swore his midriff wasn’t the only thing swelling up.

He left the college building just in time to watch Marko pull up, getting out to open the car door for his poor husband. Marko’s eyes grew wide when he saw how much Leo had grown in such a short span of time. He ran to meet him halfway and help Leo back to the van. Right as Leo sat down fully, he felt his slacks split open at the seams on the side, letting out a resounding RRRRRIIIP! As his thighs became exposed. Marko quickly shut the door to preserve any privacy Leo still had, and scurried back to the drivers side, hopping in and driving away. 

Leo’s hands covered his face as his cheeks burned with a vibrant blush. He couldn’t believe he’d let that happen. “Are… you okay hon?” asked Marko. Leo nodded, his hands not leaving his face. “Yeah… I’m just going to switch to online classes and never show my face there again. It’s fine,” he whimpered. Marko felt bad for him, that had to be embarrassing. “Would… some ice cream make you feel better?” he offered. Leo slid his hands down, giving Marko the cutest look. “A gallon of sherbet would be nice…” he replied. Marko smirked, “...and some tummy rubs while you eat it?” he sweetened the deal. 

“Mhmmm…” “...and… maybe a little more than just a tummy rub?” Marko offered. Leo smiled for the first time since he got in the car. “You know that’s what got us into this mess,” said Leo. “I know… but we’re out of this mess, and you said it yourself, you’re going to switch to online right away. What’s the harm?” Leo, without breaking eye contact, firmly gripped the sides of his shirt, and pulled them apart, popping the rest of the buttons. “You just wanna get your hands on this tummy, don’t’cha?” he teased. Marko turned bright red, and sped up the car. He had ice cream to get.

5 months later

“You think it was a bit much to rent out an entire theatre for just us?” asked Leo, his massive, gravid form slowly squeezing through the double doors. “Not at all, we’re sneaking in 95 extra people, I’d say we’re getting our money’s worth!” joked Marko, helping Leo navigate the tight confines of the wide movie theatre halls. Leo’s belly, now the size of a small car, was supported by a makeshift frame with rotatable wheels, with a soft pillowy top to make it more comfortable. It creaked under the massive weight of Leo’s pregnant belly, which audibly sloshed with amniotic fluid. Thankfully, the ramp down to the center seats was wide, though Leo could still feel the walls brush against the sides of his tummy.

“Alright, gonna turn you left now,” warned Marko as he walked to the side of Leo’s belly, squeezing between it and the wall. With more grunting than he was proud of, he turned Leo 90 degrees to the side, meaning he could now move forward down to their spot, smack in the center of the empty theatre, the perfect view. “I’m not TOO pregnant, am I?” asked Leo, seeing how out of breath Marko was after the effort. “Nonsense -HUFF- honey, in fact, I intend to make you -HUFF- even more so tonight!” he teased in response.

Leo’s footfalls were slow, but heavy, as his gravid body had swelled pretty much everywhere but his face. His ass and hips were wide enough for two seats, and his breasts had expanded considerably in order to ramp up milk production for later. Really, even with his mammoth midriff, he was still a sight to behold. After what felt like ages, they had finally reached the center-most seats. Leo noticed an extra wide one had been installed at a 90 degree angle, allowing him to sit comfortably and watch the film without being blocked by his belly.

“How did you pull this off?” Asked Leo. Marko winked. “I have my ways,” he answered. Leo slowly lowered himself into the seat, the soft cushions feeling good on his aching, pregnant body. He sighed in relief, happy to get off of his feet, and just reveled in being pampered by his husband to the point of theatre remodeling. He felt special. “This whole experience would really go well with some carmel corn… OH or some red vines!” Leo began feeling the pangs of pregnancy cravings. 

Marko’s proud smile grew into a smug grin as he slid past Leo’s gargantuan belly, shuffling around in some bags. “What’s you doing hon?” asked Leo. Marko quickly made his way back to a place Leo could reach, before handing him a bag of caramel corn, and a drum of red vines. “I had a feeling you would want these,” Leo took the candy and gestured for Marko to lean forward, which he did, before placing a playful little peck of a kiss on his nose. “You’re adorable. Now sit down, the lights are dimming!

Marko took his seat next to his massive husband, a hand idly resting on the pregnant belly as the lights went out and the film began, kicking off a lovely evening.

8 months later

Leo was glad they had such an open floor plan in their house. Not only did it add a lot of brightness to the space, but it gave him a place within the house where he could FIT. Now carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of 270 to 300 babies, the doctors aren’t sure on specifics, his astoundingly large belly had the volume of a city bus, though retained a vaguely orbular shape. He’d been immobile for a while now, though aside from some cabin fever, Marko was able to provide everything he needed to be happy. Marko was now a stellar cook, and was great at getting what Leo wanted before the man even had to ask for it.

Right now though, Marko was relaxing, playing on his switch and lounging, where else, but atop Leo’s gigantic belly. At this point the widened apex of tummy skin was less of a shelf and more of a mattress, and the large curve of skin was so warm and inviting to Marko. He’d seen every inch of this belly countless times, but he as still amazed at it. Marko’s nightly cocoa butter rubs had been doing their job, as Leo didn’t have a single stretchmark on his person, even when carrying around 300 babies.

“How’s you town coming?” asked Leo, resting on the couch. His butt took up two cushions, and was now wide enough that it would impede passage through doorways if his tummy didn’t do that already. “Really good! I just got Audie to move in! And my garden looks so cute!” Leo pursed his lips in thought, “Which one is Audie? Is she the fox one?” he asked. “I mean… she’s ‘supposed’ to be a wolf but she looks like a fox…” replied Marko. He gently sat up, scooting to the left broadside of Leo’s tummy, and sliding down, nintendo switch in hand. He landed with a solid THUNK and walked over to Leo’s side. “You know that’s got to be hell on your knees,” advised Leo. Marko shrugged, “You’re not wrong, but like… it’s so fun to do that,”

Leo jokingly rolled his eyes and looked at the handheld screen, taking in Marko’s painstakingly curated garden. “Are those… trans pride colors?” asked Leo, pointing to a strip of blue, pink, and white along the right side of the flower beds. Marko grinned. “Yeah, that section is for you! And if you count, I have 52 total flowers in place, two for us, and 50 for the kids!” The pair smiled warmly. “You’re going to need a MUCH bigger garden here in about a week…” said Leo, his hands resting on his massive boobs, pushed to the sides by his even more massive tummy.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve already started stockpiling more...” Marko trailed off. “Something on your mind, honey?” asked Leo. Marko shook his head slowly, before changing his tune. “I’m just… really, REALLY, going to miss this tummy of yours. And I’m trying to think of how to make the most of these last few days without seeming too needy, y’know?” he explained. Leo sighed and smiled. “Honey you’re NOT needy for wanting some extra tummy time before I pop. If anything I’M the needy one in this relationship. You do all the work! I just sit here and gestate!” Marko blushed. “I mean yeah but being pregnant is work in and of itself, especially THIS pregnant! Like I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Leo placed a hand on Marko’s shoulder. He would have used both hands, but he couldn’t reach past his own chest. 

“Marko. My love. You have my full, complete, and enthusiastic permission do to whatever you would like to with my belly, for the next seven days. Whether is be painting again, massaging, dressing up, touching, lotioning… whatever. Go absolutely nuts babe. Consider it a gift for taking such good care of me!” said Leo. Marko’s eyes glittered and cheeks flushed bright red at the possibilities. He giddily bounced in place, “Are you sure?! You can rescind that offer at any point, it’s okay!” Marko said in a fast, excited tempo. Leo nodded. “I know, but I don’t plan to. This is your week babe, starting right now!”

The first thing Marko did was plant a firm, deep kiss onto Leo’s lips, which Leo leaned into passionately in turn. “You’re the best babe!” Marko said, bolting around to the front of Leo’s gargantuan belly. “What are you doing?” laughed Leo, having to shout so his voice would carry to the far end of his tum. “This!” Marko pressed his whole body into Leo’s belly, his hand working its way to his popped navel. He began rubbing tiny circles around it, occasionally stopping to poke it. Leo was sensitive there, and Marko knew it.

At the same time, he began planting kisses of increasing duration over Leo’s taught skin, which riled up some movement from inside. “Oohhh, they seem to like that…” said Leo. “do you?” asked Marko. Leo paused, “...Yeah,” Marko began alternating between kissing and licking Leo’s distended, hyperpregnant midriff, eliciting groans and coos of pleasure from Leo. Marko then did something he never had before, and left a delightful little hickey on the aft of Leo’s tummy. He stopped, waiting for a response. A few long seconds passed before Leo asked “did you just… give me a hickey?” Marko blushed so hard you could hear it in his voice. “Maybe… I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. I know you pride yourself on your blemishless tumm-” “Do it again,”

Now Marko paused. “You sure? Cause I’m gonna get really into it…” “That felt like nothing I’ve ever had before. Please do it again,” Leo responded. Marko didn’t hesitate to fulfill his request, and left three more in semi-rapid succession, before retuning to kissing and affectionately worshipping the belly. It was going to be a good week for Marko.

[yellowocaballero]

Human Relations Snippet: Tim teaches Jon the internet and odious goats are sacrificed to the cult of Bezos

There’s no reason for this to exist. I was rereading a bit of HR and I saw a throwaway joke about Jon wanting to buy Martin a Portal Gun. I started wondering about how that would even work. The answer is, obviously, a 200 year old man squinting at a computer screen wondering why there’s so many horny singles in his area. I get possessed by demons easily, so I took three hours out of writing my daemon au and wrote this instead. Bon Appetit. 

(Edit, quick clarification: I think that Jon would refuse to use the name for the Beholding that Smirke made up, and although all of this exists in my head and you guys don’t know this, there was a lot of tension between Jon and Jonah’s ‘circle’. So Jon hated Smirke and thought he was a hack. He uses Smirke’s terms to others sometimes for ease of understanding or in deference to Jonah (:/) but I think that mentally he mainly calls the Beholding his own name, The Witness. It rings of that personal and intimate connection Jon and the Beholding has. Anyway, onto the story.)

After one hour in anguished uncertainty, fifty popups that advised Jon of very many ‘hot singles in his area’, six separate sites that Jon’s God had to inform him were covers for thieves that stole money from you, and a very confusing retreat to Jon’s favorite internet page ‘Wikipedia’ as to what an Amazon was, Jon had given up.

Normally this was where he asked one of his personal assistants for help. Normally, he wouldn’t even be trying, and he would have just told one of them to do it. This was how Jon had cunningly mostly avoided using computers for the past twenty years. Some endeavors were unavoidable, and Jon was proud to say that he mastered email in 2010. Or was it 2008? He liked to think it was 2006, but it was possible...never mind. If it was important, the Witness would tell him. 

After one hour in anguished uncertainty, fifty popups that advised Jon of very many ‘hot singles in his area’, six separate sites that Jon’s God had to inform him were covers for thieves that stole money from you, and a very confusing retreat to Jon’s favorite internet page ‘Wikipedia’ as to what an Amazon was, Jon had given up.

Normally this was where he asked one of his personal assistants for help. Normally, he wouldn’t even be trying, and he would have just told one of them to do it. This was how Jon had cunningly mostly avoided using computers for the past twenty years. Some endeavors were unavoidable, and Jon was proud to say that he mastered email in 2010. Or was it 2008? He liked to think it was 2006, but it was possible...never mind. If it was important, the Witness would tell him.

Peter Lukas was right on almost nothing, Jon thought disgruntledly as he slammed his laptop shut - including in his taste of men, company, philosophies, men, patron deities, professions, and men - but he was right in his proclamation that the internet was the degradation of society. Not that he hadn’t sacrificed his morality and sold out, feeding his patron through something called “incel forums” and “Reddit”. Between him, Jonah’s “Excel spreadsheets” and “TurboTax”, and Annabelle Cane’s ridiculous “MMO guilds”, the Society was filling with computer geeks. Jon could always read the wind: he had to keep up, and quickly. 

Besides, Martin had kindly educated him on how it was almost unheard of for a young man like Jon to not understand how to work that Goggle thing. Giggle? Martin was very streetwise and was one of the most insightful people Jon had ever known, he was definitely right. 

Which is why he had to buy him this “Portal Gun” that he wanted. He had even shown Jon the website! And if Jon was in desperate times trying to navigate these confusing webpages entirely with URLs he memorized, then he would take desperate measures!

“I’m going down to the Archives,” Jon said, slithering off the couch and clutching his laptop to chest. Jonah had bought it for him. He appeared surprised that Jon was using it. “I may not be back for a while. I need...a book.”

Jonah didn’t look away from his own infernal machine. It seemed he was on that ‘Excel’ program again. Was it one of those ‘video games’ he kept hearing about? “Do I want to know what you were doing on that laptop.”

“Reading Wikipedia,” Jon said immediately, and somewhat defensively. Jon had discovered Wikipedia in 2001 before promptly funding it and throwing his weight behind its development. He had spent a solid five years convinced a computer was a kind of electronic screen that let you read digital Encyclopedia pages, like in Star Trek. He’d seen Star Trek. Georgie made him. “Did you know that -”

“Yes, yes, have fun. Haven’t you read that entire site already?”

“Not even,” Jon said defensively. “I can’t just sit and read through entire Encyclopedias anymore, Jonah. We know more things now.”

“What a way to describe the last two hundred years,” Jonah said, not even looking away from his computer. “We know more things. Never change, Jon.”

“You’re the one who never changes,” Jon grumbled. But it was a weak comeback, and considering his brand new delightfully short stature somewhat untrue, so Jon breezed out of Jonah’s office with full knowledge that he’d think of a better comeback halfway down the steps to the Archives.

In fact, it wasn’t until he was at the door, and by then he felt stupid for losing a point against Jonah anyway. He easily opened the door, stepping inside and quickly bee-lining for Sasha’s office. Her burgeoning powers were wonderfully flowing in the shape of access to and understanding of technology. He had never seen such gratuitous breeches of privacy as she casually committed. Every day Jon was validated in his decision to save her from the Stranger. A balance, an equal yet opposite Archivist from Jon, would be invaluable. Not that Jonah and Jon weren’t their own yin and yang, but Jonah’s powers were paltry and out-of-date. Mind reading and spying through iconography was so 1960. They needed fresh blood. 

Sasha had been a wonderful choice, and Jon didn’t regret choosing her to act as saviour. Most of the time. Some of the time she -

“She’s not in.”

Jon’s fist halted in front of the door, about to sharply rap on her office door. He turned around to actually look through the bullpen, only to see that Timothy was sitting in his chair chewing a sandwich. Somehow angrily. Definitely suspiciously. 

“Are you sure?” Jon asked dubiously. “Because you’ve lied about this before.”

“Because you should stop coming down here and bothering her.” Timothy balled the saran wrap in his hand and dunked it in the trash can, somehow undoubtedly giving the impression that he wished it was Jon’s head. “Just bugger off.”

Someone was in a snit. Normally Timothy wasn’t this hostile. Jon had thought that learning his name might make him less mean, but it did little to help. But when Jon looked around he didn’t see Martin, and a quick check assured him that both Sasha and Martin were having lunch at their favorite deli and engaging in that plotting hobby they both enjoyed. Timothy had elected to stay behind, stewing in his own angry and paranoid juices. 

He would have to do this with Martin out of the Archives...and he really wanted to take care of this now so Martin would get it before the weekend...and it wasn’t as if Jon was scared of this boy he was one hundred and seventy years older than…

“Uh,” Jon said intelligently, “can you help me with...something…”

Timothy’s face twisted in a novel combination of surprise and disgust. “What,” he sneered, “your evil fear god or whatever can’t figure it out for you?”

“I don’t need others to think for me,” Jon said stiffly. It was something he’d had to say far too many times. “The Witness is less helpful with...troubleshooting...look, do you know how to work a computer?”

Timothy stared at him blankly. “Like, at all?”

“I’m trying to buy Martin this toy he desires,” Jon said desperately. Fuck it all, he walked over and sat down in the chair next to Tim’s desk. He pulled a little bit closer, placing his laptop on Tim’s desk, and ignored the way the other man leaned away. “But whenever I try I keep on seeing alerts about hot singles. I’m not interested in young women, I just need to buy a ‘Portal Gun’. Do you know what a Portal Gun is?”

Timothy continued staring at him, eyebrows raised. Clearly involuntarily, so quick that he may not even have noticed, one corner of his lips was ticking upwards into a smile. 

“How many credit card scams have you fallen for?”

“Absolutely none,” Jon said, very quickly. He pulled out his credit card, placing it on the table. He knew a credit card was involved, although he didn’t know how. “What do I do? Do I swipe it? Is there a port?” He picked up the laptop and squinted at its sides, looking for a port. “I wanted to ask Sasha for help, since she’s the expert in hacking, but surely you know the basics?”

“I mean...I can’t, like, code, but yeah, I can work Amazon.” Timothy carefully opened the laptop, watching the display light up. He effortlessly navigated to an icon on the screen, clicking it open. 

“That’s not right,” Jon said urgently. “You’re supposed to press the E.”

“I do not want to know how many toolbars you have,” Timothy said bluntly. “We’re using Chrome. That’s another way to look at the Internet.” He rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, I got a grandmother, we can do this.”

Jon perked up. “So you’ll help?”

Went unsaid: even though you hate me?

“Whatever,” Timothy grumbled. Jon decided not to press his luck. 

Jon decided that he liked the Chrome better than the Internet Explorer, because it was simpler and Google was on the first page. Tim rapidly typed on ‘Amazon.com’ into the search bar and easily scrolled through the very busy and picture filled page that immediately popped up. Why was everything so fast? Maybe this was why the young people had no attention span: these pages just came up immediately. No flipping for indices for finding anything in phone books. 

“Right. What was it, a Portal Gun? Like from the game?”

“A board game?”

“Video game.”

“Like on a VHS…?”

“Right.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, Sasha said that you’re one of the most famous sociologists and anthropologists in British history.”

“I am extremely intelligent, Timothy, and I won’t abide any insinuation otherwise,” Jon said curtly. “I cannot be expected to keep constant track every time there’s another - iPhone or whatever. You have teenagers in your family, correct? Do you always know what they’re talking about? That’s, what, a twenty year age gap? Multiply that by ten.”

That shut him up. Timothy sighed again, much more aggressively, but he clicked the white bar and typed in ‘portal gun’ anyway. “Right. Not fucking apologizing, but right. I still don’t fucking know what ‘Twitch’ is.”

“It’s a brief spasmodic contraction of the muscle fibers,” Jon said helpfully. “Fascinatingly, this phenomenon was first observed in frog’s legs before I was even born in 1780, by Luigi Galvani. Erudite man, by the way, but he couldn’t hold his liquor. It was the birth of the study of bioelectricity, although the exact mechanism of muscle contraction eluded scientists for years.”

“Never mind.” Timothy sighed again, the perfect mix of aggravated and long-suffering. It seemed to be the man’s two favorite emotions. “My grandmother has a PhD and she still can’t figure out her cell, either. We had to get her a Jitterbug.”

Amazon, as Timothy explained, was a kind of shopping mall, except you could pick out what you wanted by its picture and have the shopping mall pack it up and send it to you. Jon didn’t quite understand why people preferred this to just going to a shop yourself, seeing as you could get it immediately instead of with a three or four day turnaround, but Tim explained that Amazon was cheaper, had a wider selection, and didn’t make you get off the couch.

“Oh,” Jon said, finally getting it, “this follows the economic model of large scale businesses underpricing their products to undercut smaller businesses in the area, driving them out of business until they hold monopoly over the market and can raise their prices without worrying about staying competitive.”

Timothy stared at him. 

“I mean,” he said, “I guess?”

“This explains why my Alexa project was successful so quickly,” Jon mused. “With a lack of competition or alternatives, consumers are more likely to accept the dramatic invasions of privacy as normal. Normalizing intrusions into privacy took ages, but my early efforts paid off very well. The Ring doorbell was even better, along with the line of security and home protection systems. We’re now working on live streamed 24/7 surveillance to social media platforms.”

Timothy stared at him further. 

Finally, he said, “Alexa was...you?”

“Of course,” Jon said, baffled. Who else would it be? “I gave Jeff the idea and convinced him it would be profitable. I didn’t understand the whole mechanics of it, but once I gave Jeff a vision from the Witness he was eager to implement the divinely inspired spyware.”

Timothy continued to stare. 

“The evil fear god controls Jeff Bezos.”

“He thinks I’m a prophet, actually,” Jon said helpfully. “I let him become Cardinal of the imaginary cult in exchange for funding some of my more esoteric programs. Had him sacrifice a goat and everything, it was great.” At Timothy’s alarmed look, Jon was quick to elaborate, “It was the most evil goat you’ve met in your life. Morally odious.”

“...for my sanity I’m going to pretend that you said none of that.”

In retrospect, although Timothy had worked at the Institute for a few years, it did take quite a bit of time to acclimate to the fact that the Avatars permanently shaped the shape of human existence in order to better feed their gods. Jon knew better than anyone: when humanity made gods, and gods made man, and man made gods...the feedback loop could self-perpetuate for years. Eternity, if needed. 

But they had no luck on ‘Amazon’. With Jon’s eidetic memory he was able to easily pick out the one that looked most similar to the one that Martin had showed him, but all of the little toy guns were for someone named ‘Rick’. Then Timothy took twenty laborious minutes explaining the entire plot of ‘Rick & Morty’ to him, which Jon patiently sat through. 

“I think young people today deeply enjoy explaining media,” Jon said, once Timothy finished telling him the funny jokes. “I’m very interested in your interests, Timothy.”

“You are so fucking condescending. And please call me Tim, you’re sounding even more like my grandmother.” When Jon brightened, Tim - Tim! - quickly said, “This does not mean we are friends.”

Granted, Jon had never once in his life gave a shit about making friends, but he felt as if he should be making more of an effort with Tim. He was a sort of supernatural brother in law, wasn’t he? Although Sasha perhaps Sasha was more of a favored niece. At least, he would be, if today’s generation found some morality and stopped living in sin. 

Good lord. Now he was sounding like Jonah. Georgie used to joke that he was born in the wrong generation - he should have been born a 17th century Puritan instead. Jon found it a very funny joke. Jonah did not. 

“Are there any other shopping websites?” Jon asked finally, after Amazon failed them. He’d have to call up Jeff later and complain. “Or is this the only one?”

Tim sighed. “Let’s check Google.”

Quickly and efficiently, yet with many lightning fast detours, Tim found another site called ‘eBay’ - pronounced ‘e-Bay’, not ‘ehbay’ - that listed off exactly what they needed. They weren’t under the toy section, instead listed as something called ‘cosplay’, but Tim seemed highly resistant to explaining that one, so he dropped it. 

They picked a likely looking white toy gun that looked the most similar to the one that Martin had liked and Tim talked Jon through punching in the numbers on his card into the website and sorting through the billing and shipping information. Tim helpfully took down the numbers on his card to file later. 

“And...done!” Tim said, pressing a button and leaning back. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was ten times as complicated as I thought it would be,” Jon assured him, “but also much more fun. What else can you buy online?”

“Oh, god. What can’t you buy.”

Jon brightened. “Can you buy books?”

“Old Gertrude used to buy Leitners on eBay,” Tim said dully, “so yeah, sure, why not.”

Jon stared at his computer. He carefully navigated the mouse to the big red x and clicked out of the internet browser. “That’s enough of eBay, then, I think.”

Guess he would have to stick to buying Leitners in person. It was no good buying fucked up books from sketchy sources. Always stick to people you trusted, or at least trusted to be themselves. Mikaele was Jon’s favorite supplier since the kid Leitner disappeared, and they had a pleasant working relationship. Mikaele shared his grandfather’s stories about the history and culture of the Maori, and Jon told him which of his haunted artifacts would be the most helpful in the imminent apocalypse. 

“Well,” Tim said finally, gently pushing Jon’s laptop away, “that was...something, great bonding session with my local supervillain, please run back to Elias and bother him instead.”

“You were very helpful, Mr. Stoker,” Jon said, as professionally yet paternally as possible. Tim was six years older than his body, so he’s not sure how it came off, but the touch of grey at his temples helped with the dignified air. “And as soon as you start acting like a man and propose to my Archivist, you’ll make an excellent brother in law -”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Jon spun around in his chair to see Sasha and Martin standing at the door, holding doggy bags and looking somewhat flummoxed. Probably confused at the sight of him and Tim having a civil conversation, which admittedly had never happened before. Possibly also confused at how completely mortified Tim looked. 

“Who said anything about proposing?” Sasha asked incredulously. “Tim, are you -”

“No! No, god no!” Tim stood up quickly, holding his hands out as if he was placating a raging bull. “Nobody’s been saying anything - I would never do that to you -”

“Oh,” Sasha said frostily, crossing her arms and letting the bags swing, “would you.”

That was a domestic Jon should stay out of, even though he definitely caused it. He and Martin sidled away in tandem, huddling near the back of the Archives as Tim frantically pled for his life. 

Sneakily, Jon glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye. He looked happy. Happy, and just as stressed as he always looked - Jon had never known Martin when he wasn’t constantly stressed out, and he was more than aware that it was his fault. 

He looked good, too. Really nice, broad jawline that gave his face a friendly round shape. Just friendly and round in general, it was really handsome. His hair was as nicely short and ruffles as ever. The big glasses were super stylish, and really framed his face well. Really big, broad hands. Jon, who had always been so poky and tall and thin and gaunt, like some kind of haunted scarecrow that lurked through the corners of time, was envious. He wanted some of that softness and gentleness. Really, he wanted some of Martin’s -

“So what were you and Tim doing?” Martin asked. “I didn’t know you knew he existed.”

“You told me his name,” Jon said anxiously. “I don’t forget the things you tell me, you know.”

Martin smiled shyly and him, and Jon found himself smiling back. “It’s pretty good for my ego to hear that I have something to teach the immortal genius.”

“I don’t know,” Jon said, as Sasha yelled in the background, “I’ve been learning a lot lately.”

“Really?” Martin teased. “Anything interesting?”

“Oh,” Jon said, watching the yellow fluorescent light cast Martin’s dim smile in soft relief, “I can think of a few things.”

[dameronology]

tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 2

part two: a comprehensive study of how far you can push a cowboy before he breaks

summary: you continue to try and break jack’s ego, but nothing seems to be working - especially when you have to play a married couple, and his observant tendencies begin to break your confident facade instead 

song for this chapter: my friend by hayley williams

ok so this wasn’t gonna be out until december 1st but someone who donated to my ko-fi asked for part 2 and...i couldn’t resist. this also touches a little more on the reader + eggsy’s relationship and it’s background. enjoy!

- jamie

series masterlist

You had to give to the the Statesmen - the apartment they had leased you was fucking nice. 

It struck the balance between modern and homely, complete with a bath tub big enough for the whole damn agency and a bed to match. You knew that they had money, but not this much. The Kingsmen were wealthy but the Statesman put them to shame. It was a lifestyle you were happy to get used to, especially on the first morning. You’d woken up not long after 6AM - your body was still working on British time, after all - when it was still dark outside. The navy blue of the sky was pouring through the large windows, and paired with the remaining city lights, it lit up the bedroom in a cerulean glow. 

Blinking under the distant blue smoulder, you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed. The bedroom itself was about the same size as your apartment back home and man, it was something you could have easily gotten used to. A bathtub the size of a swimming pool? Don’t mind if I do. A bed big enough to roll to your heart's content and not fall out? Fuck yeah. It made you wonder how rich some of your new colleagues were. You had noticed that Tequila drove an unusually expensive sports car. 

You frowned when you noticed that there was something heavy sprawled across your feet. It wasn’t necessarily in the bed, but rather strewn across the duvet. You rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh. 

‘Fuck’s sake, Eggsy!’ you raised your leg, kicking him front under the covers. ‘Why the bloody hell are you in here?’

Your friend suddenly jumped awake, almost falling off the mattress as you kicked him again. ‘Ow! Ribs!’

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘You haven’t tried to share a bed with me since we were ten!’ You tossed a pillow at him. ‘So I’ll ask again - why the bloody hell are you in here?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He grumbled. 

Your frown softened, and you let out a sigh. ‘Have you been having nightmares about Galahad again? Because Merlin said he was making strides towards getting better-’

‘- That day from the church is still ingrained in my head.’ Eggsy cut you off, tucking his knees into his chest and under his chin. ‘It keeps playing over and over.’

It was something you sympathised with. Working as a Kingsman brought good days and bad days, but the latter would stick in your mind a thousand times more. You’d learnt to live with it by that point but then again, you were easier at separating your emotions from your professional life. You had a good rapport with your colleagues - minus the doofus at the foot of your bed, who might as well have been an annoying brother - but you tried not to become attached. It only made it harder when you lost them, 

‘Time, Eggsy.’ You leant over the bed to give his arm a squeeze. ‘You need time.’

‘It’s been almost a year-’

‘- recovery isn’t a race.’ You firmly interrupted. ‘And healing isn’t linear, for you or for Gala - for Harry.’ 

You’d become so accustomed to codenames that they felt personal. Harry was Galahad, and Amish was Merlin. You’d never called Roxy anything other than Lancelot. It just didn’t feel right. 

‘I hate when you make sense-’

Eggy’s rumbling was cut off by the sound of the front door and the fall of footsteps. You immediately leapt out of bed, tearing your gun from the bedside table. Pointing it out in front of you, you slowly kicked open the door and crept out in the hallway, weapon leading the way. 

‘Morning sunshine-’ Whiskey stopped in his tracks when he saw the pistol aimed in his direction. ‘Well that ain’t a very warm welcome is it, Percy?’

‘Percy?’ The words rolled off of your tongue with a tone of disbelief. Admittedly, the new nickname shouldn’t have been your first concern when you were a) wearing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas and b) pointing a gun at your new colleague, but priorities didn’t apply in this situation.

‘Short for Percival!’ Eggsy called from the bedroom.

‘Oh, I do apologise.’ He held his hands up in surrender. ‘Was I interrupting something-’

‘- Gross!’ You exclaimed. ‘No!’

‘Hey!’ Another call from the bedroom. ‘You would be lucky-’

You cut your friend off by slamming the bedroom door. ‘What do you want, Whiskey? It’s six in the fucking morning.’

‘And yet you’re up and pointing a gun at my head.’ The cowboy reasoned, complete with a small shrug. ‘Want to put the weapon down, pretty lady?’

Growling at the use of another nickname, you threw the gun onto one of the side-tables. That was when you realised you’d sprinted out the bedroom in cartoon pajamas, only to come face-to-face with Whiskey, who was in his usual leather jacket and hat. Frankly, you should have slapped it right off his head. That would have taught him to come bursting into your apartment at the crack of dawn. 

‘Maybe knock next time?’ You suggested, stalking through to the kitchen. ‘Especially considering that it’s not even light outside. A little bit predatorial, don’t you think?’

‘If you’d checked the schedule I emailed you, you would know that we have to be in the field in forty-five minutes.’ Jack shot back, leaning against the counter. ‘You should check your phone more often. I thought that most of your generation had their cell-phones glued to their hands.’

‘Okay, grandad.’ You snorted. His dark eyes followed you as you darted around the kitchen, piling together a cup of coffee on autopilot. ‘What’re we doing in the field?’

‘Recon.’ He said. ‘One of Calahan’s contacts has been spotted working a jewellery stand down at 30 Rock.’

‘Okay, give me thirty minutes.’ You tossed a piece of bread into the toaster.

‘Dress...touristy.’ 

--

‘That is not touristy.’

Usually, Jack Daniels would have been the last person to object to a woman wearing a dress and heels, but you were supposed to be blending in with crowds, not standing out. He clearly hadn’t got the memo that you didn’t do casual - not in a professional sense, at least. In some way, you were matching, because you too were wearing a leather jacket. It was a staple in your wardrobe. 

‘Would you rather I have stayed in the turtle pajamas?’ You glanced across the table at him, thinning your eyes. 

‘Tourists don’t wear Christian Louboutins.’ The cowboy muttered. 

‘I wear Christian Louboutins.’ You shot back. ‘But points for recognizing the brand.’ 

‘Here.’ Jack swiped a t-shirt off of a cart as they passed by, thrusting a fifty in the vendor’s hand. ‘Wear this.’ 

He shoved a t-shirt into your hand; it was about ten sizes too big for you with ‘I ❤️  NY’ blazoned across the front. For a minute, you thought he was kidding, but Jack’s serious expression barely faltered. You tried to counter the look, quirking your brow as if to say yeah, good one. 

‘I’m serious, Agent. We can’t blow our cover.’ 

‘What cover?’ You frowned. ‘You never said anything about a cover.’ 

‘Our guy works for a jewelry vendor.’ Jack flashed a grin at you, before pulling a pair of glasses out of his pocket. ‘We need to get inside and get footage of the shop for the agents coming in tonight. These babies will live stream it right back to Ginger HQ.’

‘So I have to go jewelry shopping?’ 

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘We are going ring shopping, Mrs Daniels.’ 

‘You’re not serious.’ Your eyebrows shot up. 

‘I think we would make a very attractive couple.’ He retorted. ‘A bright-eyed Brit falling in love with a cowboy, their feelings for each other spanning the Pacific-’

‘- Atlantic-’

‘- ocean.’ 

‘Whatever.’ You pulled off your jacket, yanking the t-shirt from his hands and tugging it over your head. The shirt ended up being longer than your dress, and with your tights and heels it worked in a way that it definitely shouldn’t have. ‘Let’s just get this over and done with. I’m tired.’

‘Incidentally, that’s something you would also say if you were my wife.’

You responded again with a groan, elongating it slightly when Jack wound an arm around your waist, as though somebody had just yelled action! 

How hard could it be? You’d been undercover as part of a couple before - admittedly, that had been with people you’d already had a rapport with, and ones who didn’t drive you up the wall as much as Whiskey. Eggsy was a close call, but having been your best friend for the better part of twenty years, it was easy to convince people you were a real couple. It had been a little awkward with Merlin and you had almost flat out refused to do it with Galahad, but there hadn’t been so much at risk then. If this recon went well, it could lead to leaps and strides in your bigger mission. Finding Calahan, proving yourself worthy of a promotion and eventual world domination (in a hero kinda way). 

‘Let’s go over the fine details.’ You murmured to him, glancing around as you entered the shopping strip inside 30 Rock. ‘Where did we meet?’

‘London. I was on a business trip.’ Whiskey quickly replied. ‘How did I propose?’

‘In front of the Eiffel Tower.’ You said. ‘And where do we live now?’

‘Kentucky, but we’re in New York because we plan on getting married here.’ He said. ‘You ready?’

‘Let’s go.’ You linked your arms with his, plastering on a fake grin as you entered the jewelry store.  ‘My glasses are recording this straight back to HQ.’

‘Hey there, cowboy!’ Calahan’s contact greeted you immediately. He wasn’t what you’d expected - the man was decked out in a suit and tie, complete with a dodgy looking spray tan and teeth so white they could probably reflect the fucking sun. ‘And pretty lady.’

It had been bad enough when Whiskey called you that. But this guy? Gross - and Jack couldn’t help but notice how you tensed up at the nickname. 

‘Watch it, pal.’ Jack joked. ‘That’s my fiancee you’re talking to.’

‘And I assume that’s what brings you in today?’ He flashed a grin at you. ‘I couldn’t help but notice she doesn’t have a ring.’

‘See if you can move closer to the case by the fire exit.’ Ginger’s voice came over your earpiece. 

‘These ones here look pretty!’ You suddenly exclaimed, grabbing Jack by the arm and yanking him in the direction that Ginger had requested. The cowboy let out a surprised yelp as you did, stumbling slightly as you dragged him across the store. 

‘Perfect. Thank you.’ She quietly said over the line. 

‘Any in particular catch your eye, Miss…’

‘It will be Mrs Jones when we get married.’ You plastered on the biggest shit-eating grin that you could muster. ‘And that one in the top corner is very pretty.’

‘That’s one of our most expensive rings.’ The jeweler’s grin was bigger than yours. ‘Is your event going to be as big? You know...price wise?’

‘Oh yeah!’ You chimed in, barely giving Jack a chance to think. ‘We’re renting out the Plaza Hotel. I’m wearing a vintage Emanuel dress inspired by the Princess of Wales and our honeymoon is three weeks in the Bahamas.’

You just had to ramble for a little bit longer whilst Jack looked around to get the footage. Luckily, it was something you were good at. You could talk somebody’s ear off if you had to and bullshit to the next degree; it had saved your ass on missions more times than you’d care to admit. If you ever retired from the Kingsman, you probably had a promising career as an actress. 

‘All this before you’ve chosen a ring?’ He raised his eyebrows at you. You’d been quick on your feet - so much so that you’d tripped and fallen. 

‘My baby’s been planning this thing since was a little girl.’ Whiskey quickly stepped in. ‘And it’s my job to make sure she gets it.’

‘He’s a lawyer.’ You went up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek. ‘I’m marrying good.’

‘Oh!’ The jeweler glanced between the two of you. ‘This makes more sense now.’

‘Right, we’ve got enough footage.’ Merlin said. ‘You two can get the bloody hell out of there before I puke.’

After making an appointment to return the following day - which neither of you planned on going to, obviously - Jack took your hand and led you out the store. To keep up appearances, you kept your fingers intertwined as you walked back through the shopping mall. The fact you had managed to play a believable couple on such short notice was almost astounding. 

‘Oh my god.’ You murmured, glancing over your shoulder as you exited the mall and turned the corner. You pulled your hand back from Jack’s, stifling a laugh. ‘I can’t believe we actually managed to do it.’

‘Why are you so shocked?’ Whiskey peered down at you, a grin playing on his lips. ‘Like I said - we would make a very attractive couple, sugar.’

‘In your dreams, Daniels.’ You shot back. ‘But if I ever do end up in a relationship like that? Shoot me. I beg you.’

You kept strolling together, slowly heading for the Statesman headquarters - but neither of you were in a rush. Whatever the hell that was had just broken the initial tension between you, and you were actually enjoying one another’s company for the moment. 

‘What’s wrong with it?’ He asked. ‘Ain’t nothing bad about a man looking after his woman.’

‘That’s so outdated.’ You groaned. 

‘It’s not!’ Jack protested. ‘A man looks after his girl and his girl looks after him. Or a husband and husband, or wife and wife-’

‘- how progressive of you.’ You cut him off, rolling your eyes. ‘I don’t rely on anyone. Ever. I look after myself.’

It was probably a cultural difference. Jack had grown up in the south, in a household where his dad worked and his mum looked after the house. It had been the same with his late wife; had things not gone the way they had, he’d probably be the breadwinner whilst she stayed home with the kids. You, meanwhile, had grown up in a working class area of London where a majority of the households were headed by women - and most of the time, single women. If there was some unheard of future where you got married and had kids, like hell would you give up your career. Your job was your baby. 

‘We all need people to look after us sometimes.’ Jack nudged you with his elbow.

You shook your head. ‘Not me.’

‘Well you sound like a real heart-breaker, Miss Independent.’ 

‘It’s my speciality.’ 

--

Once you’d handed over the footage from your glasses to Ginger, you and Whiskey headed to the office. There was a comfortable silence between you - pretending to be a married couple had been one hell of an ice breaker. At least it was proof that you and Jack could work well together. You’d stayed on the same page for the entirety of your little improv love story, and it meant your first mission, however minor, had been a success. If working with him was going to like that for the rest of your time in New York, you might have been able to tolerate him and his ridiculous Southern drawl. 

(Not to mention the nicknames. It left you wondering if Jack had forgotten your actual name and was too afraid to ask.) 

Eggsy was waiting for you in the lobby outside the lift. He was leant against the wall, feet crossed in front of him as he tapped away on his phone. A frown came over your face when you realised that he had a bag beside him. He was scheduled to stay in the city with you until at least the following weekend. You had plans for a few days time to try and use your contacts to sneak into a filming of Saturday Night Live. 

‘Hey!’ Your best friend brightly greeted you. ‘Guess what? Tilde called!’

‘That’s great!’ You forced a smile. ‘So you’re heading back to London tonight?’

‘Yeah.’ His grin didn’t falter. ‘I figured since you two played a married couple successfully, you didn’t need me to stick around to babysit you and make sure you didn’t eat him alive.’

‘It’s still early days.’ You reasoned. ‘Are you sure you don’t wanna stay a couple more days? Adam Driver’s the guest on SNL this weekend.’

‘I gotta get back and fix things, man.’ Eggsy said. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.’

‘Right, of course.’ You held your arms out to him. 

He stepped forward and wrapped his own around you, lifting you off the ground and giving you a tight squeeze. If you had to choose one of your favourite things about Eggsy, it would have to be his hugs. The only reason you’d stopped calling him Hugsy was because he’d threatened to take them away entirely. They were far and few, usually when you were going to spend time apart, but you always appreciated them. 

‘I’ll see you in a few weeks, tops.’ He said, placing you back on the ground. ‘And I promise we’ll get into SNL then.’

‘You better.’ You poked his chest. ‘I’ll miss you, Egghead.’

‘I’ll miss you more.’

You let out a tiny sigh as Eggsy picked up his bags and headed for the lift. You weren’t mad at him for going home early - just disappointed. And not at him, just at the situation, It had been a long time since you’d got to properly spend time together outside of work. Above all, however, you knew you had to respect his relationship. What kind of friend would you be to stand in the way of him and love? 

Once he was out of sight, you regathered yourself and headed to the office. Jack was already inside, his feet propped up on the desk and a glass of his namesake whiskey in hand. It was the first time he’d taken off his hat in front of you, and his hair was a little ruffled from it. 

‘Don’t need anyone my ass’ was the greeting he offered you. 

‘What?’ You furrowed your brow. 

Jack pushed his feet back to the floor, handing you your own glass of...well, Jack.  ‘I saw the way you looked at your boy, Percy.’

‘I told you before!’ You snatched the glass from his hand, dropping into your chair. ‘Eggsy is not my boyfriend.’

‘Doesn’t have to be’.’ He shrugged. ‘You looked like you were losing your brother. Tweedle Dum ain’t nothing without Tweedle Dee.’ 

Eggsy was your brother, by all intents and purposes. Heck, he might as well have been your twin. Your fathers had been best friends when they were in Kingsman, and you and him were reflections of that. You’d gone through every high and low of your teenage years together, and eventually adulthood. As previously established, he often came to you and he often needed you, but you hated to consider how it might have gone the other way. He was the only exception to your needing no one rule. And, considering that not even your own mother had made the cut, it was actually quite complimentary. 

‘I don’t need Eggsy.’ You insisted. 

‘How long have you known each other?’ Jack ignored your statement, instead posing a question. ‘Since school?’

‘No. He’s six months older than me, so...my whole life.’

‘I rest my case.’

‘You know nothing, Whiskey!’ You exclaimed. ‘You can’t make massive assumptions about me when you’ve known me for two days.’

‘I’ve met a woman like you before.’ He replied. He pondered for a moment, and his eyes were almost...vacant. ‘She pretended she didn’t need a damn person either, but she did.’

‘And who was that?’ You thinned your eyes at me. ‘Because I can’t think of a single person who I need.’ 

‘She needed me.’ He casually shrugged. ‘And I needed her.’

‘Right. Naturally.’ You murmured. ‘It’s too early for this, Whiskey.’

‘Got too deep for you, Tea?’

‘The hell did you just call me?’

‘Tea.’ He offered you a shit eat grin. ‘Get it? Because you’re British-’

‘- this face isn’t because I didn’t get it.’ You cut him off. ‘And on that note, I am done here. I shall be working from home this evening and possibly for the rest of eternity.’ 

Swiping your glass up, you poured the entirety of its contents down your throat in one swig, before slamming it back on the table. The whiskey burnt for a split second, but it felt good - and you didn’t need to be skidding down that slippery slope at two in the afternoon. Gathering up your bag, you swung it over your shoulder and stood up. 

‘Oh, c’mon!’ Jack protested. ‘We were just starting to get along, sugar!’

‘We were!’ You shot back, pausing when you were half-way out the door. ‘Then you started therapising me.’

He grinned at you. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re contractually obliged!’

‘Fuuuck off!’ 

[imaeraser]

Playing With Foxfire Kin’emon x Reader (Modern AU) Ch 1

TW: power imbalance, cheating, and age gap

(2.1k words)

Kin’emon x reader x slight Sanji

Summary: You have a summer internship at the Kozuki company, and have to stay at Kin’emon’s home. You try to limit your attraction to the married man, but the flame of passion burns bright. And playing with fire can only lead to one thing— getting burnt.

AN: I originally did this for myself and my sister as a joke— since there is little to no fan fiction for Kin’emon— but decided to post it. Hopefully you enjoy and cringe at some parts.

I fumbled my way through the airport. The musk of others smudged onto my shoulders while I bumped down the path as if I were in a pinball machine. The sound of the wheels of my suitcase grounding me on Earth before all of my thoughts flew away.

   I raised my hand to shade my eyes as I stepped out into the open, while my foot jutted back from the force of the wind. I squinted down the road, but there was not an awaiting person in sight.

   I sighed, and sat down on a sun-warmed bench near a smoking man. As I grabbed the side rest, the tacky feeling of day-old gum made my arm jump in revulsion.

   “Ew, that’s so nasty,” I shook my arm as if the action would make the gum magically disappear, and then reluctantly started to pull it off with two fingers.

   “Here let me help you,” another set of arms entered my vision. The stranger pulled out a handkerchief and scraped any residue off of my arm jacket.

   “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” I turned to him, and stopped mid-thought.

   His eye was staring at me intently, but I could only appear to focus on his swirly eyebrow— his singular swirly eyebrow.

   “I think being a life saver is a bit of an over-statement, but I’ll take it.” He paused and tilted his head, yet the hair that covered one of his eyes did not budge. “Is there something wrong?”

   I paused, “No, it’s nothing. I’m just a bit air-headed sometimes.” I flushed as I rubbed the back on my neck.

   “Well, I think air-heads are cute,” he held out his hand, “Sanji.”

   “Y/N,” I said as I replied with a handshake.

   Once we retracted our arms he leaned over to his side, and proceeded to fill the atmosphere with the rottenly-sweet scent of tobacco. After a large puff, he released a light cloud into the air. The smoke got thinner and lighter as it floated up and died in the sky.

   “What brings you here Y/N?” Sanji held out an unused cigarette and raised an eyebrow.

   “I have an internship this summer,” I said as I shook my head and pushed the offering away.

   “Let me guess...” he paused, “ Kozuki?”

   “Yep,” I nodded. I threw another glance at the street, and the emptiness made my foot begin to tap the floor. “I think there was a guy that was supposed to pick me up.” I looked down at my phone- 4:57- a few more hours and I would no longer feel safe walking the streets alone.

   “If you want, I can drive you. Just give me the address and we’ll be on our way,” Sanji offered a handsome smile.

   My eyes quickly darted to his figure. He was tall and slender, but most of his form was hidden under a finely made suit. He shifted in his seat awaiting my answer, and the movement drew my attention to his abnormally built leg muscles. His demeanor was goofy, but I had only known him for a span of a few minutes.

   As much as I wanted to say yes, there were far too many episodes of true-crime documentaries watched for me to allow this stranger to drive me home.

   “No, I should be okay. I think I’ll wait a bit longer, and if he doesn’t show up I’ll call an Uber or something,” I said as I watched him lean back onto his seat.

   “Well, I’ll wait until you’re out of here safely. I can’t leave a lovely lady like yourself all alone,” Sanji smirked as he crossed his ankles.

   “Are you implying that I am incapable of handling myself?” I raised an eyebrow in  playful contention. He raised his hands as if to calm my rage.

   “Of course not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he said, as I leaned back into the bench.

   Time quickly passed, and before either of us knew it we were watching the sky’s rolling clouds pull back and reveal an assortment of summer-time colors. The falling sun lit up Sanji’s flaxseed hair—spinning each strand into a gold thread. Perhaps it was a mistake to decline his proposal.

   “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I said, glancing back at my phone.

   “I’m meant to be wherever you are, mademoiselle,” he placed a hand on his chest.

   I picked at my nails, and rolled a strand of my hair between my fingers, “Stop joking, you could do way better than me.” He gently clasped my hands.

   “You’re selling yourself short. From the time I have spent with you I can tell that you really are gorgeous,” he looked me dead in the eye. The intensity and suddenness of his icy-blue gaze made me look away.

   “I’ll take the compliment,” I said, before turning my eyes to the side. To my surprise I saw a man holding a sign with my name on it. “It’s about time,” I shook my head as I looked back over to Sanji. “Thanks for keeping me company, but the dude finally showed up. I have to get going.” I stood up, my knees clicking from being immobile for too long.

   After waving goodbye, I dragged my suitcase across the concrete to greet the man. The closer I walked to him, the taller his looming figure became. As we both stopped our pace, my eyes widened in distaste as I looked at him.

   His top-knot bobbed as he tilted his head, which provided a stark contrast to his worn out graphic tee that was half-way tucked into a pair of cargo shorts. He took a step towards me as he outstretched his hand, and I heard a resounding wooden thunk. My eyes trailed down to reveal a set of wooden clogs and knee-high socks.

   “I am deeply sorry for being late, I was just a bit busy.” He rubbed his neck with his other hand, which revealed a raspberry colored hickey. I bit the inside of my cheek, as I looked to the side in disbelief— trying not to stare at anything in particular. “Oh, you must be looking at my car. It is an antique—”

   “Y/N,” I hurriedly shook his hand. “I believe I am to stay at your house during the entirety of my internship at Kozuki?”

   His heavily lined eyes blinked a few times before he opened his mouth, “You are correct. I am Kin’emon. My wife and I will be hosting you for the few months you are to be staying.” There was a glint of light that flashed as he moved his hand—which was seen with a golden band around his ring finger.

   “Thank you very much for generously allowing me to stay in your home,” we began to walk to his car. “Oh I forgot, the email asked the interns to check the id of the person who is picking us up.” I paused before placing my hand on the sleek metal of the door handle.

   “Yes, thank you for reminding me,” he slipped his black leather wallet out of his pocket and fished for his id. Once he retrieved the card, he placed his driver’s license into my hand.

   I pulled out my phone, to look at the email telling us about our host. After comparing the information, I handed Kin’emon his drivers license back. “Okay, let’s go.” I said as I slid onto the creme colored leather of the backseat.

   My fist supported my head as I watched the scenery meld together through the window. The sky quickly turned darker. My breath formed a little patch of condensation— due to the late hour and dropping temperatures.

   The car ride was quiet, with the exception of some traditional Japanese instrumentals. But before either of us would try and fill the silence with awkward questioning, we arrived at his house.

   I stepped out of the car, and heard the sound of the trunk opening as well as plastic wheels hitting the ground. While handing me my suitcase handle, his calloused hands brushed against mine. I whispered a quiet, thank you, before following him up to his home.

   He opened the frosted glass door, which revealed a quaint home who’s floor was covered in what I perceived as bamboo mats. We both entered the house, and the scent of fried bread crumbs as well as curry swirled around us. I caught myself nearly drooling down my chin.

   The sound of pots, pans, and utensils cluttering stopped as a woman in an apron stepped out of the kitchen. “Welcome home dear,” she said before turning to me. “You must be the intern. My name is O-tsuru, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” She dusted her flour covered hands on her jeans before offering me a handshake.

   I gave a soft smile as I shook her hand, “I’m Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you as well.” O-tsuru gently grabbed Kin’emon’s hand and led him to the kitchen.

   “Food is almost finished, we would be delighted if you decided to eat with us,” her voice echoed from the kitchen.

   I looked down at my half eaten sandwich from the airport Subway. The bread was chewy like a warm kneaded eraser, and the vegetables had an almost plastic sheen to them. “I would love to eat whatever smells that delicious,” I peeled off my shoes and set them near the door.

   O-tsuru’s head popped out from the kitchen, “Just sit for a bit, and we’ll be out with food in a second.” Following her instructions, I pushed the floor sitting chair out so I could sit on my knees.

   There were no legs to the chair, but seeing as the table was so close to the ground it did not present a problem. My eyes scanned the area of the house that was visible. There were sliding doors and paintings with Japanese characters drawn in sumi ink. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see something reflect the light of the overhead fan.

   I turned to my side and saw two katana’s on display, both identical in looks. Black lacquered wood, with the image of fire painted down the middle. It looked too gaudy for it to be used as a weapon. As I glanced over the other decorations in the house, I decided to place the swords in the same category.

   “Today we are going to be eating Tonkatsu Curry,” O-tusru said, as she clattered plates about to organize the table. I reached out to help her, but she swatted my hands away playfully. “You’re our guest, I can’t put you to work so soon,” she chuckled. I placed my hands back onto my lap, and waited.

   Soon enough Kin’emon brought out the food, and the scent of curry wafted over  from the pot. There was a plate set down that was full of pork chops covered in fried bread crumbs. O-tsuru set down a glass bowl full of lettuce— you could see droplets of water on the leaves.

   “So we have some Tonkatsu here, but if you can’t eat that we also have nato,” O-tsuru sat across from me.

   “What’s nato?” I looked at my bowl of rice, and sniffed it.  

   “It’s fermented beans,” Kin’emon took his seat next to his wife. “And if you’re allergic to anything here just let us know, I’m sure we can find something in the kitchen that suits your needs.”

   As we dug in, the flavors exploded in my mouth creating a lovely blend. The dinner was mostly quiet, with the exception of some basic questions to fill up the time.

   “I’ll let Kin’emon show you to your room. I have to wash some dishes,” O-tsuru grabbed a few plates as she stood up.

   While the sound of water and the clanging of dishes ensued, Kin’emon stood up, and walked over to my luggage. The slight crispy nosies of the mats under my feet amused me.

   “So...are the floor mats made out of bamboo?” I said.

   “They are made out of rice straw, they’re called Tatami mats,” he walked down the hallway, and placed his hand on the door, and cracked it open slightly. “This is where your room is, you can call either of us if you need anything.”

   I watched his silhouette as he turned around to meet back with his wife. Although he dressed like a patchwork dad and samurai, it looked as if he could still be a model for Calvin Klein. As he walked away, his muscles rippled under his skin. His arms were also well defined, but as my eye caught his ring I stopped