#register but they would have the manager talk to me about not pushing the printer department reward program and getting sign ups like what a

[milo-is-rambling]

I miss having money I do not miss working do you see the problem here

[knowltonsrangers]

scrapped

[a/n: this is a scrapped chapter one of my gwash fic infectious. the first three paragraphs are stolen from what would be infectious ch1, but it felt weird taking it out. pls enjoy, I really loved this idea and I’m sorry I never pursued it :,) reader is f.]

TURN!George Washington x F!Reader

It’s not the setting he had wrote down when he was a child, on that little piece of white paper with black writing on the top.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

He can’t remember exactly what he put—a agriculturalist, maybe, something along the lines, but he knows he did not put this.

But it wasn’t that he hated this, no, it’s just in moments like these, maybe he wishes he was on a farm somewhere and was planting carrots.

“Washington, we’ve got problems!”

The door slams open, and in bursts Hamilton, waving a fistful of papers around as Lafayette follows him inside, quietly shutting the door over.

The man in question sits, thrumming his fingers along the top of his desk, watching as email after email pops up on his computer screen. As fast as he could blink, another appeared, then another.

The “Mr.” had fallen off Hamilton’s inquires years ago, after they had been well acquainted enough. Washington, himself, never cared if it was there in the first place, usually forgoing formalities when it came to himself anyways.

“Yes, so I understand. I have been notified by every department in the office.”

“We only have three, it’s not that many,”

They were, by all means, working on a small crew. Just a tiny district location of sorts—part of larger corporation—working on some rich bigs dime to develop security software.

As an old man at heart, he quite frankly had no idea what anyone was talking about at any given time. He was responsible for the numbers, the managing part, pertaining to checking that everything was right on the regular.

“You don’t seem so worried,”

George swears he can see Hamilton’s eye twitch, so he pushes aside his woes and drops his elbows onto his desk.

“I’ve just got the news alert, yes, the stock dropped significantly. I apologize if it seems I am ignoring it. My mind is not quite here today.”

“Are you not feeling well?”

Lafayette speaks from behind Hamilton, rounding the man to question him.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

The sound of the phone echoes through the room, and he feels his hand reach over and pick up the device on autopilot.

“Washington.”

The person on the other end is speaking to him, but he’s hardly registered what they’ve said.

The air suddenly feels tighter, as if the realization dawns on him. He feels both Lafayette’s and Hamilton’s eyes on him, as he ends the call as calmly as he can.

“…Sir?”

“The stock is the least of our problems.”

It seems like such a difficult situation to enter, walking into a place that has already found it’s groove to now find solace in a now chaotic office.

Chaos would be an understatement, it appears, as you push into the double doors.

Paper…paper was everywhere. The printer seemed to be shoveling out nonsense, phones ringing off the hook, and the usual bustle of an once quiet floor now peaked at an extreme level.

“Oh…”

Your lips feel dry, but you hike your bag higher for the sake of trying to make yourself feel a bit better.

“Are you lost?”

Not realizing anyone had even walked behind you, you jump and swiftly turn around.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“N-no! It’s okay, Um, is this the subset of Culper Productions?”

“Ah, again, my apologies. No one usually comes in here looking for us.”

The man laughs, tucking a folder under his arm.

“I’m Nathan, pleasure to meet you.”

He extends a hand, and you happily shake it.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you!”

Nathan smiles warmly.

“You seem to have caught us at a horrible time. But who are you to report to? I can take you to them,”

“Thank you! I appreciate that, I’m supposed to meet a Mister George Washington?”

“Boss, huh? Okay, I can do that. Follow me.”

He starts walking and you briskly follow, feeling a twinge of anxiety creep into your stomach.

“You’re kinda catching him on a bad day, so please don’t take this interaction for who he is. He’s a real nice guy, intimidating, but super nice.”

Suddenly, you’re in front of the door that has no inkling that it belonged to the man, George Washington. Just a wooden door, tucked away in the corner of the small office.

“I—thank you Nathan. I look forward to working with you,”

You swallow thickly. Nathan pats your shoulder.

“You too, y/n!”

As fast as he came, he was gone, and all that was left was for you to reach up and knock, but you never got the chance.

The door flies open, and a enraged redhead stands in the doorway, shouting things over his shoulder to someone inside.

Something tells you to step to the side, and as you do, he barrels past, waving around a folder as a blonde man follows quickly behind him, chattering away about something. From your spot, neither seem to notice you.

Now with the door open, and your heart in your stomach, you slide into the open doorway, knocking on the door.

“No, Tallmadge, I do not have the numbers from the tenth, you asked me three times already today.”

He…he would be your definition of ‘a man in authority’ if you could place a label on him.

His voice is a deep baritone, sitting behind a desk that is flooded with stacks of papers and folders. He has three empty cups of coffee in front of him, a fourth in his hand, broad shoulders sagged with pressure.

You clear your throat.

“Sorry, I don’t think I’m the person you’re looking for.”

His blue eyes yank up from the computer, jolted for a moment as he blinks wildly at you.

“My apologies ma’am. How may I help you?”

Nathan would be absolutely right regarding him being a bit intimidating, but not about catching him on a bad day.

His voice changes, a lighter tone, less…stressed, comes forward, as he stands from behind his mountain of work. He’s tall, very tall-an aura of authority just radiating from him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I was sent from the Delaware office, I’m here to help.”

Washington walks around his desk, crossing the room to with a perplexed look on his face.

“That…today is the fourteenth…isn’t it?”

“So it would be, yes!”
You chirp, and Mr. Washington sighs deeply, a rumble of forced laughter following shortly after.

“I am so, so terribly sorry. I knew of this, I-you’re Miss y/n l/n.”

He extends his hand.

“y/n is just fine, but it really is a pleasure to get to work here, Mr. Washington.”

You watch the way his large hand envelops yours, handshake as firm as you’d imagined it be.

“You are very understanding, thank you y/n. I sincerely appreciate that,”

“Thank you! It’s my job to help in any way. Just send me wherever, and I’ll do what I can.”

The smile the man sends you makes the anxiety disappear from your stomach almost instantly.

“I would offer a tour, maybe introduce you to some of the office-but may I steal you for an hour or so? I’ve misplaced some papers and my phone won’t stop ringing. As I’m sure you’ve realized, I’ve also been nagged to death by Tallmadge about these charts from the tenth…”

When you left Delaware, the office was being dissolved and majorly merged with another office. For some reason, being the second receptionist wouldn’t fly at the new office, so you were sent to the smaller location that never really needed one.

But now, you can understand the need for it.

“Of course! Here, let me.”

Washington was shuffling through a stack of papers, mumbling about the tenth when you set your bag down on the chair in the corner.

“Paper pushing is my expertise. I can get all this organized, you work on anything else that needs to be done.”

Washington looks at you as if you’ve said something impossible.

“I can’t possibly ask you to organize this atrocity y/n, not on your first day, and especially not after I can’t even offer you a proper introduction to the company.”

“You look like you need a break from searching through papers.”

You walk over to stand next to him, swallowing a little thickly as you realize just how much taller he was than you. Nevertheless, you reach outwards, grabbing a stack and begin thumbing through the papers.

“Where have you been all this time? The Delaware branch must be so sorry to have lost you,”

Washington rumbles, and you can’t fight the twinge of sadness that pulls forth at the thought. Instead, you offer a laugh, neatly shuffling the papers before moving on to the next stack.

“Yeah…about that. Let’s just say, I’m very happy to be here. Extremely happy to help.”

As you catch the date of the tenth, you grab the packet by the staple and pull the papers out.

“Here you go, the data from the tenth for Tallmadge.”

Washington did nothing to mask his surprise.

You, in turn, watch the way his hand comes up to gently take the folder from you, thumbing it open, as if he just doesn’t quite believe you.

“My, y/n. If you’ve just saved me two hours of looking, alongside hours of Tallmagde’s droning, I could honestly be the happiest man alive.”

“Here to help.”

You reiterate, smile brimming as you glance up at him sparingly.

“I’ll get this all de-cluttered and organized. Please, you work on whatever has the most precedence.”

If anything, George knew that he and you would get along just fine. And, he would make sure that no one in this office abused the absolute gem of a personality that you possessed, because it seemed you were just so sweet for your own good.

“Maybe I can finally clean my desk…”

He turns, and you peek around him, finding once more the same manila folders filled with white sheets of printer paper.

“You get started, I’ll help.”

[a/n: I have had this so long in my drafts, and if anything, this could stand alone as a gwash fic if i never get back to it :) sorry again for the repeated intro. mwah.]

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

[lovelylunarwriting]

Jaemin Soulmate!AU

Jaemin has a reputation as a “cool” kind of guy, which is why he wears bracelets to hide the words permanently etched on his left wrist

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”

Jisung and Haechan are notorious for giving him shit for having a ‘weird’ soulmate, but Jaemin thinks it’s kind of funny, honestly

Like great question dude but,,, why are you asking me this

Jaemin’s apartment is around the corner from a little family-owned grocery store that he’s frequented since his high school days.

He’s very much a regular, to the point of the owner being like “Jaemin…. Please just work here. You already know where everything is”

To which Jaemin has to respectfully decline, because he wants to focus on his dancing and singing, and working too much would get in the way of practicing.

That, however, does not stop the old man from sending customers with questions to Jaemin whenever he comes in.

Because Jaemin is too polite to be like “uhh I don’t work here, good luck”, he always ends up helping them

But secretly, he doesn’t mind. He thinks that maybe one day, his soulmate will be the next one to ask him a question.

Even after repeated questions about “how much does this cost?”, “when do you guys open tomorrow?”, “when will the next shipment of bok choy be in?”, he still isn’t terribly bothered.

The other employees chastise the boss for sending customers to Jaemin, but the old man is always like “he knows this store better than you all do. That’s why he gets a discount higher than yours”

Employee discount: 15 percent off all merchandise

Na Jaemin discount: 20 percent off all merchandise

It’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that Na Jaemin gets a discount, but they are NEVER to mention it to him! He knows that business has been rough recently and wouldn’t accept the generosity, but the boss thinks Jaemin is too skinny and wants him to be able to afford to eat well.

Now lovely reader, this is where you come in. You recently got a job at this grocery store but you work in the back, so you have never seen the famous “Na Jaemin” that all your fellow employees chat about so frequently.

Coworker #1: “Ugh, he’s like SO dreamy”

Coworker #2: “I know right? He’ll have no trouble becoming an idol at this rate”

Meanwhile you’re like “lol what who? Also where is the printer for printing clearance labels”

You specifically applied for the back of house position because you did not want to talk to people.

It’s not that you’re antisocial by any means- honestly it’s the opposite. It’s just that you have the tendency to say whatever you’re thinking with absolutely no filter.

So in the past when more…. challenging… customers have talked down to you, you gave back the same energy without thinking.

Management was not happy,,, so you were like “mmmm maybe I should just keep to myself and everyone would be happier”

One day though, it seems that you’re shit out of luck.

Your work bestie calls you at 3 in the morning on your day off saying that her kid has a fever and she’s gotta stay home and take care of him.

You have no plans other than generally being a lazy lump at home, and she’s always had your back at work, so you’re like “girl don’t worry about it, I got your shift. I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for him too”

To which she’s like “bitch if I hadn’t found my soulmate already I would’ve snatched you up T-T”

You giggle and tell her to try and get some rest- both her and her kid.

And then sleep another blissful 4 hours before rolling in for the 8am shift.

When you get there, boss man is like “ayeee so you’re covering for her shift which is stocking shelves, are you gonna be okay doing that?”

You: “Ahaha yeah it’ll be fine~ just please don’t send customers to me oh my gosh”

Boss Man: “Don’t worry, I just saw Jaemin walk in. I’ll send them to him”

You: “... who is Jaemin”

Boss Man: “He’s my FAVORITE!! Remember that!”

You: “Oh, okay!! Yes sir!”

You’re like fifteen minutes into your shift and you’re already on edge because all you’ve done so far is dodge all the old ladies who are shopping this early.

No actual products have been put on the shelves yet, or at least not by your hands.

Settling down in the dairy section, you relax a bit and start putting cold products in the cold shelves fixed to the wall.

And of course- things are in the wrong place. Why would anyone put anything back where it belongs?

Picking up a product, you glance at the label out of sheer boredom more than anything.

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”, you say to yourself.

Or so you think.

“Yeah, that is like the one question I don’t know how to answer”, you hear a masculine voice say from behind.

You spin around and look up into the man’s face.

And oh boy is that a nice looking face.

“Oh I’m sorry, I- WAIT”, you start, before you realize what he said.

Grabbing his left wrist, you push up the bracelets to reveal what you’d just said. Then you drop his hand out of sudden shyness, and because it’s not cool just to grab people.

“Do… do you mind if I look at your wrist as well?”, he asks quietly.

You roll up your sleeve and present him with your arm. He delicately wraps his fingers around your wrist and flips it over to read the words written”

He drops your wrist and sinks into a squat, flopping his arms over his head and looking at the ground.

“Oh my gosh why did I say something so lame…”

“Umm,,, to be fair,,, I did ask you about butter so by comparison yours isn’t that bad,,,,”, you try to comfort him, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze.

“You mean that? It wasn’t like the lamest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Oh I’ve heard much lamer things, don’t worry!”, you say with a cheery smile that contrasts your words entirely.

He stands up again and clasps your hands in his. With a look of determination he looks straight into your soul and asks:

“What time do you get off work?”

You tell him, but let him know that you’ll be busy after work making chicken noodle soup for your coworker and her son.

He’s like “oh you can cook?” and you’re like “lol no but I’m gonna die trying”

He writes his phone number on your arm (next to your soulmate tattoo) and is like “text me when you’re done with work and I’ll swing by and walk you home and maybe I can help you cook”

And quickly clarifies “ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH ME IN YOUR HOME, I UNDERSTAND IF BECAUSE WE JUST MET YOU-”

You’re like “dude,,,, it’s fine, we are literally destined to be together. Also if you try anything I’ll just beat you up so it’s chill”

Looking at his watch, he sprints makes a beeline for the checkout counter, going on about he’s gonna be so later and Haechan’s never gonna let it go if he’s late twice in a row, and something else but by that point he’s so far away from the dairy aisle you can only hear muffled sounds where words should be.

The next several hours could not go by ANY SLOWER.

Starting off today, you figured the day would go by quickly because you’d be preoccupied figuring out how to do something new, but now all you can think about is pretty soulmate boy.

And how he never mentioned his name, but to be fair, it was a rather quick exchange.

What feels like centuries later, your shift is coming to a close so you grab the ingredients you the internet tells you you need for the soup and head to your favorite cashier.

Somehow the front of the store is both quiet and abnormally loud for this time of night.

“Jaemin’s been waiting there for fifteen minutes? Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

“Maybe he needs to talk to the boss? Usually he’d just ask one of us to grab him but he’s just standing outside”

“Ugh it’s so cold, should we tell him to come inside?”

You glance over to the crowd of coworkers towards the entrance and break out into a smile.

“Just keep ringing me up, I’ll be right back!”, you tell the cashier and fast walk past the small crowd.

Peeping your head out the door, you greet him.

“Are you cold? Come inside, I’m almost done”

“Oh okay, should I wait by the door though?”

“No, come with me. I wanna show you off~”, you instruct and he raises an eyebrow, but plays along.

Holding open the door for him, he scuffles his way in and shyly offers his hand.

Gladly, and with a pounding heart, you lock your fingers between his.

“Your hands are freezing, dude”

“Shhh it’s fine. I was trying to be cool, okay”, he jokes with you as you walk back to the register

Ringing up your items, the cashier is looking at you and him with raised eyebrows, and you’re just like “shut up jessica I’ll explain tomorrow”

The two of you walk back to your apartment and spend the rest of the night cooking and talking about everything and nothing.

The more you learn about Jaemin, the more confident you are that the universe got this one right.

Even when most things feel unclear, you know this person is someone you can always rely on.

(also when you bring your sick work bestie the soup, Jaemin insists on tagging along and she’s like “omg Y/N that’s JAEMIN” and you’re like “I KNOW” and he’s like “hi here’s some soup, also why do you know my name”

[starrysupercell]

This is a request from over on AO3, where I'm sharing my works there too. I'll be alternating between the requests, as there's a list on both sides now. This user requested Edgar and Colette, with a surprise theme!

And it might be the new thing... where I get too carried away and just write a full set up for a story, lmao. But here we go!

~🧣~Darker Interests ~❣~

Edgar leaned back in his chair, bored out of his mind. The graveyard shift was quiet, which he usually had no qualms with, but his phone had died around half an hour ago, so he couldn't even entertain himself for the last leg of his shift.

Actually focusing on work? As if.

The little bell above the door rung, and he shifted from leaning back to slumping forward on the counter, holding his head up in his hand. "Welcome," he half-heartedly greeted.

The customer grinned widely. "Hiya!" She said, waving very excitedly.

Edgar gave her a look. Who greets people like that?

The girl broke into fits of giggles, and her only visible eye darted around, clutching a book to her chest. She had white hair that covered one eye, and a very odd sense of style. Her shirt's sleeves were so long they covered her hands.

"Oh, a corner store. Very nice." She said, slipping behind an aisle.

'I wonder what she's on,' Edgar wondered. He looked back down. Whatever. It wasn't really his job to care about the customers. Just a couple more hours until morning shift gets here...

A few minutes later, he heard some sirens from down the street and casually glanced out the glass door. 'I guess I'll read about that in the morning.'

The girl was pressed against the window, looking at the flashing lights. She peeled herself away from the glass and came up to the counter. Her arms were full of cheesy chips, sweets, beef jerky and drinks.

'Weed, huh?' Edgar thought as he began to scan the items. 'She doesn't reek of it though.'

"That'll be 16.73." Edgar told her.

She reached into her pocket, and then frowned. She looked down to her book. "You were supposed to..." and shook her head.

The girl smiled at him. "Well, I forgot to bring the money." She explained sheepishly, "Is there any way you'd be interested in a deal?"

"Uhh.... Cash or card only." Edgar said, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm not that type." She shook her head. "Two favors, of your choice! Haha, eight dollars for one! What a steal!" She laughed before refocusing. "So how about it, Edgar?"

"Sure, yeah. Okay. A deal." The worker said. "Let me just bag these for you." Edgar said, completing that as quickly as he could.

The white-haired girl grinned. "Thanks! I've been wanting to try these."

Edgar pushed the bag towards her. "There you go. Have... a night."

"Bye-Bye, Edgar!" She waved, walking to the door. The bell rung, and the door closed.

Edgar exhaled. God, the worst night to forget his charger at home. He cancelled the order on the register and decided to make a note to the manager on what was lost.

There was no way that he was gonna try to argue with that lunatic. What were they gonna do, fire him? He was the only one who wanted to work night shift.

Edgar grabbed a piece of paper from the printer, and a pen near the cash register to write the note. He was halfway done when he suddenly realized something and froze. His gaze trailed back towards the register.

His name tag he never bothered to put on that night laid right beside it.

That.... girl somehow knew him!? A stalker? How did a psycho druggie find out about him? His heart beat fast as a million things raced through his mind. Should he close? Call the cops? Quit? Change his name? Move away far from here?

The door swung open, "You know what I forgot to tell you?" The bell ring wildly.

Edgar yelped and jumped at the sudden question. She walked in, munching on alternating bites of cookies and chips as she made her way to the counter again. "My name! Can you believe it? How would you have summoned me?" She laughed.

"Y-your....?" Edgar began to calm down some. She didn't seem like a threat, really. Maybe some oddball girl who went to his school he never noticed before. "How did you get my name?"

"Hm? Well... it wasn't hard to get it. It's all over you. A cry for validation." She said.

"Validation?" Edgar echoed in confusion. "What are you?"

It was the girl's turn to frown. "Whaaat? Are you serious?"

"Um, yeah, that's why I'm asking." Edgar said, annoyed but still cautious. "It'd be kinda crappy if I had a stalker."

"I'm no stalker. I'm a demon!" The girl stomped her foot. "And you didn't know!? What kind of weirdo makes a deal with people like that?"

"The kind who tries to get safely rid of potential murderers." Edgar defended himself. "You know you looked crazy, right?"

The girl didn't know what to say right away, she made an odd face. "Okay, well... no I didn't. Anyway!" She exclaimed. "Even if you are the weird one here, you still get two favors. When you want to cash in, just call my name."

Edgar looked skeptical. "And what is your name?"

She grinned now. "Colette!"

"So.. just say that?" He asked, "And you'll appear?"

"Yup! Those are the rules. Make sure you don't call me for anything boring. This is my first deal, you know!"

"Okay. 'Demon girl.' I'll keep that in mind." Edgar said.

"... I'm starting to get the feeling that you don't believe me, am I right?" She asked suspiciously.

"Wow, what was your first clue?" Edgar asked flatly. "You have to admit. It's hard to believe with the way you've been acting. Aren't demons supposed to be cool?"

Colette smiled. "Cool, huh? You think so? Alright..." She put her bag down on the ground, then slammed her hands on the counter. "I'll show you cool."

She stared straight into Edgar's eyes, a mischievous grin playing at her lips now. A red hue began to crawl across her face, starting from the edges. Her toothy grin sharpened.

Edgar blinked. 'Either I'm having a really vivid dream or I'm about to die right now."

The color of her eyes seeped to yellow with red pupils. Horns emerged from her head, and a tail emerged into a view. Lastly, the book she held sprouted wings and flapped next to her, a green eye staring down the night worker.

"There!" She said, leaning heavily against the counter now. Her tail flicked. "Demon enough for you?"

So demons were real and he had just insulted one that could probably kill him on the spot. "Ah, fuck." Edgar said. "Did I trade my soul away for two favors?"

Colette giggled. "No, it was for the snacks! Remember?" She held a finger up to her mouth. "Although, maybe we can talk about your soul later since you just agree to deals like it's nothing!"

"That's because I saw you as a nutjob, remember?" Edgar snarked.

Colette shrugged. "Anyway, I've got to go. This was supposed to be a quick visit, and I've already spent longer here than I planned." She scooped up the bag, and held her arm out. Her little devilish book landed in the crook of her arm. "See you when you decide you need me, Edgar~" she smiled.

A cloud of smoke puffed everywhere, and she was gone. Edgar felt... dazed about the whole ordeal. Apparently Demons were real. What about Angels?

Edgar looked up and over to the camera in the back right corner of the store. The black camera was always recording.

"Oh...Do demons have to stay secret to humans?..." he muttered to himself. That could be a problem later, but he shrugged. He wasn't gonna call her to probably waste one of his two favors already. He just wanted his shift to be over.

[pilot-boi]

Shouting In Cafes: Chapter One

Neptune keeps getting dumped and is honestly about to give up on dating all together. He'd much rather focus on his crappy job, and his schoolwork. Anything but dating. The universe, as always, conspires to ruin everyone's plans.

Or: The coffee shop AU that nobody asked for or wanted, but that I wrote anyway.

(In the same universe as Coffee Cup Woes, but before that timeline wise)

Unfortunate Meetings

As far as first impressions went, there was probably some way that this could have gone worse. But you’d be hard pressed to think of one of those ways.

AO3 LINK

Neptune was working his shift more than a little hungover from last night. Plastic cups kept toppling out of his hands and coffee streams began shifting just to the right of the mugs. Thank god for dim aesthetic lighting and the constant smell of coffee beans pumping through his senses.

It had happened again. As soon as Neptune finally got a straight dude to realize how not straight he really was, the dude thanked him for this realization and left. Leaving Neptune with a bottle of wine to mull over alone.

How many times had this happened? Five? More? Numbers were a little fuzzy at the moment. Neptune silently thanked god that he wasn’t working the cash register.

“Excuse me?” a bored voice called, followed by a harsh tapping on his shoulder.

Neptune blinked and jerked his head upright. Oh god, his head. Dull pain pounded against his skull, black spots popped up in his vision. How much did he actually drink last night? This was not at all healthy.

“Huh?” Neptune asked.

“Your turn to work register.” God dammit. He should have known it was too good to last.

“Fine,” he managed after a pause.

“Dude, you’re drunk as hell.”

“Just very hungover.”

“Why are you here?”

“Do I look like I can afford college?”

“I mean, a little. You’ve got some fancy ass hair.”

Neptune groaned out a sigh. “Thank you, I try.”

“Good luck.”

His coworker clapped him on the back and the spotty vision returned. This was going to be an extremely long shift.

After a moment, Neptune registered a blurred moving object passing in front of his face. A second later, there was a snap by his ear that his headache did not appreciate, and then someone said. “Hello? Dude, can you take our order?”

More blinking. More time to register. There was a lot of blue, but maybe it was a face.

“Welcome to the Daily Grind. What can I get for you today?”

“Um, buddy, my eyes are up here.”

Neptune was a tall guy. Like, annoyingly tall. Sometimes he hit his head on door frames tall. But Neptune actually had to tilt his head up to look this guy square in the eye. Guy was a basketball player. He had to be. What else could he be doing with all that height.

In a moment of horror, Neptune realized he had been talking directly into this customer’s chest.

“You’ve got quite a pair of pecs,” Neptune heard himself say. The hangover was doing bad stuff to his brain. For some reason he was combing his  well refined casanova talk with his already terrible mocking talk, and it was turning out awful. The embarrassment didn’t register.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the guy’s face registered. Very high cheekbones, very spiky hair, and a very surprised expression on his face.

“What?” the customer asked, eyebrows trying to escape into his hairline.

There was a light giggle beside the customer and Neptune felt his eyes drag a foot and a half down to where a pretty brunette was covering her mouth and giggling. Neptune tried to push away the judgement. It wasn’t like he was any better after all. And he had practically just catcalled this paying customer’s chest. Oh god, what was he doing?

“Oh Lord. Sorry, sir. I’m a little out of it,” Neptune admitted. It kind of felt like the entire coffee shop was suspended in honey and his mind was trying to keep him afloat.

A hearty laugh burst from the customer’s mouth. Hearty? Was hearty the right word? It started a ship captain’s bellow and dissolved into woodland pixie giggling by the end. “I can tell. Who says that? Kind of ridiculous thing to say right off the bat.”

Well. Even though Neptune was in the wrong, he still had pride in himself.

“I’m guessing a black coffee and a unicorn frappuccino? I’m not sure whose is whose though,” Neptune commented, shooting a sideways glance at the pair of them.

The customer prickled. His date laughed again.

“Hey, dude, what the fuck?” the guy said. He said “fuck” loud enough for some heads to turn. “I’m on a date right now.”

“I see that, and honestly, she seems to be enjoying the company of a horribly hungover guy more than a douche in a wifebeater.” Neptune should probably stop. The leftover alcohol was making his tongue and his brain disconnect.

The girl laughed again. It felt good that he could seduce someone through a pounding headache, but also awful because it was her date she was laughing at.

Her date was a douche, though. It was a moral grey area.

The customer pointed at Neptune. Pointed at him! This was a coffee shop! The fury in his eyes said murder, the finger said the time was now. His nails said he hadn’t ever seen a nail clipper other than his own teeth.

After an intense stare down, the finger was lowered, and the customer spat out a “Grande white mocha and a plain cappuccino.”

“What’s the name?”

“Sun.”

Neptune smiled. “Just a few minutes until that’s ready, Sun.”

His smile was returned with a glare and snarl. Again, this was a coffee shop. Not a wrestling match. Neptune wouldn’t be surprised if he was called out onto the street to throw down after the order was made.

He could feel himself punch in a few numbers while making deliberate eye contact with the guy, Sun. As soon as his receipt printed out, Sun reached across the counter and snatched it out of Neptune’s printer before moving down the line to wait at pick up, staring and squinting all the while.

As soon as they were out of each other’s sight, Neptune caught somebody else’s glance: Sun’s date. She wore a tiny smile on her face as she slid by, pupils following Neptune until they couldn’t. She was cute, though not really Neptune’s type.

“What just happened there?” Neptune’s coworker, Jaune, appeared beside him. It would’ve made him jump had his brain not been moving so slow.

“Asshat in flip flops talked back to me.”

“He’s a paying customer, Neptune!”

“And an asshat, Jaune!” Neptune slumped onto the counter. Lucky for him the coffee shop was so tiny and crummy. It was always slow, giving him some well-earned time between customers to mull over his life choices. “He pointed at me!”

“Pointed at you?”

“With his finger! Right in my face! Who does that?!”

“Who started the argument?”

“It was…” Neptune thought for a moment. “Technically me. But he said ‘my eyes are up here’ when I was staring at his chest.”

“Why were you staring at his chest.”

“I’m very hungover.”

“Why are you hungover.”

“I got dumped last night.”

Jaune paused, sighed, and opened his arms for a hug. Neptune raised an eyebrow. He did not hug. He did not show the urge to display physical affection. 

“Neptune, give me a hug.”

“No.”

“Neptune.”

“I don’t want a hug.”

“You got dumped. You’re hungover. You need a hug.”

Neptune gave into the hug. Jaune was a very soft person, emotionally if not physically. So even though their similar heights made it awkward, all his hugs were very comforting. The perks of having like a million siblings. And Neptune kind of needed it, though he would never admit it. 

The wine had been swung back between fits of crying, but the more wine he drank the more he would cry and by the time the sun started to peek through his curtains, there was a bottle gone and Neptune had to deal with the fact that he’d been practically inhaling a bottle as he fell asleep.

He didn’t even like the guy that much. But five times is a few times too many to get denied just when you realize you like someone. It hurt. And the hurt had been building up for a while.

“I just can’t keep a guy,” Neptune said into Jaune’s shoulder. His curling blonde hair smelled like dish soap.

“Maybe you have bad taste in guys?” he asked.

“I do not have bad taste in guys.”

“You obviously do if they keep dumping you!”

“Hug over.” Neptune tried to pull away but Jaune resisted. That oversized sweatshirt hid the strength of a mammoth.

“Hug not over. Stop bottling everything inside! It’s annoying.”

“I can’t not bottle, Jaune! I’m not a feelings guy!”

“You could be if you tried!”

“Let go!”

“Ahem.”

There was a customer waiting.

“Shit,” Neptune said. Jaune finally released his grip and pushed Neptune out of the way and into the syrups.

“Sorry about that, ma’am! What will you be having today?” Jaune said in his brightest customer service voice. He caught his eye for a second, giving him a look that said, ‘You’re really out of it. I’ll take care of the cash register. Go do something useful.’

Neptune silently thanked god for Jaune Arc.

Only two more customers came in during the thirty minutes Neptune was on syrup duty, leaving Jaune and Neptune to make idle chatter. The whole time, Neptune kept glancing back to the dude from before. Sun. He kept laughing with his date, pounding on the table and overall being very loud.

Everything about him was loud. His sandals, his shorts, his shirt, his hair spikes that defied gravity and Neptune could verify just how weird they were because he saw them with his own two eyes. Why the hell would this dickhead dudebro come into a tiny local coffee shop with crummy staff and crappy food? On a date?

Sun’s date would still softly giggle when it looked like Sun had cracked a joke, but Neptune caught her writing something on her straw wrapper when Sun turned around.

And then they were leaving.

No fight, no duel, no screaming match. They were just leaving. The only suggestion of bad blood was the glare Sun shot Neptune as he opened the door for his date. Other than that, nothing.

Nothing except Sun’s date passing something to Neptune without looking as they passed by the bar.

Neptune unfurled the crumpled straw wrapper in his hands and stared at the telephone number written there.

“What’s that?” Jaune asked, leaning on a broom.

“A number.”

“Oooo. Is he cute?”

“She. And I guess.”

“You gonna call her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“She was the date of that douchebag.”

“Oh, wow.” A pause. “Oh wow! I guess the date didn’t go well, then?”

“Who could've guessed?”

“And you’re not gonna call her.”

“Why would I?”

Jaune smiled. “I’m proud of you, Neptune! And here I thought you were gonna call her in an act of revenge against the shorts and sandals guy you initiated the fight with! I guess people can-”

“I’m gonna call her.”

“There it is.”

[cosmichoneyedblossoms]

Dying Ember

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x Reader

Genre: Fuckin Smut Y’all

Word Count: 2,594

Summary: You’re about to leave work when your General Manager come into your office and says you’ve been summoned by Yoo Kihyun. What happens when he asks you if you’ve thought about the proposition he offered you at your last meeting?

Cigarette Ash | Smoke Trails | Dying Ember

“Alright…” You clicked the print button on the screen and leaned back in your desk chair, the sound of the printer hissing behind you filled you with relief. Three hours spent buried in your sections budget report definitely took a toll on you, but now that it was finally done, you could work on other things. Your eyes fell onto the clock on the computer screen, your mind registering what time it was, “Well… I guess I can turn the report in—”

“Y/N?” You looked up at your office door to see your general manager, Kelsea, peeking her head in, her black curls spilling over her shoulders as she stepped into your office, her hands hidden behind her back.

“I was just about to bring you the report.” You hummed, her body coming closer to you. The longer you studied her face, the more she avoided eye contact completely, “What? You look like your cat died, what is wrong?” She brought one of her arms around to the front of her waist, a piece of folded cream parchment caught in between her fingers.

“You’ve been summoned to floor seven.”

“What…?” You took the parchment from her hand, deep blood red ink gracefully formed into initials of ‘YKH’ across the front. You flipped it open to see his handwriting requesting you to see him in his office immediately to discuss matters of your job title, “This is a joke, right?” Kelsea shook her head, her eyes pointing down.

“I wish it were. I’ve heard he’s a ruthless man…” The rumors spread about him didn’t seem to match what you’ve experienced with him, sure he was a powerful man, but ruthless? He did tell you to leave your boyfriend to be his plaything, but you haven’t heard from him and you haven’t reached out to him since then.

“He can’t be that bad.” You stood from your desk, sitting the parchment down and smoothing over your skirt then reaching to straighten out a stack of files on the desk.

“Remember Janelle from accounting? Apparently, he fired her for accident spilling coffee on his suit.” You slammed your files down into the desk a little harder than intended, but the way she was talking about Kihyun had your blood starting to boil.

“That has to be an exaggeration. Mr. Yoo doesn’t seem like the guy, and spreading rumors about him just ruins his image.” Your growled words had Kelsea taken back.

“Easy with the tone there, Y/N.”

”You as a manager should know that rumors being spread about you isn't just, or do we need to have a conversation about Tobyn?” Kelsea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, the air around her turning hostile.

”Whatever, go see Mr. Yoo, and pack up for the night.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You bowed as she took her leave from your office, your eyes finding their way back to the cream parchment resting on the desk. His Highness is calling.

The elevator ride up to the seventh floor was at least beautiful at this time of night. The elevator had clear panes of glass as walls that looked over the beginning nightlife, plush crimson carpet, a silver handrail that wrapped around the elevator, and a panel with a row of buttons ending with seven. The lights of the city glittered under the moon’s glow, buildings on every street with lights filling office spaces, apartments, stores, and restaurants; the elevator door dinged as the door open and you stepped out to be greeted by a girl at the desk, “Hello. Who is it you might be seeing today?” You lifted your hand holding the paper, the women’s eye growing wide, “CEO Kihyun’s office is down the right hall and to the left, the very last office.”

“Thank you.” Your heels clicked against the tile floor as you made your way to Kihyun’s office, your heart beginning to pound inside your chest. You approached the closed dark wood door, the only thing separating you from the man who caused you to lose control of yourself. Knuckles hesitated to knock on the door, but you swallowed your fear and knocked, his familiar voice making it past the wood. Timid fingers gripped the handle and opened it, your eyes landing on him, his profile illuminated by the light of the computer screen. You cleared your throat before attempting to speak his name, “Mr. Yoo…”

“One second.” Rasped words mixed with the fast tapping of keys sent chills down your spine. The words voice had whispered many weeks ago came flooding back to your psyche, conjuring the flames of passion in your lower belly, and he hadn’t even touched you. You walked closer to his desk, taking a seat in the soft leather chair that sat in front of him, his eyes soon turning to you, “If it isn’t the lovely Y/N.” He turned to face you, leaning back into his chair.

“You summoned me?” You asked, crossing your legs; Kihyun’s lips pulled up into a smirk as he examined you.

“I very well did.” He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face the windows, overlooking the sparkling Seoul night, “Did you happen to think about my proposition?”

“Your proposition?” You fiddled with the hem of your sleeves while the thought of him asking you to be his danced through your mind, your cheeks flushing, “I thought you were joking, Mr. Yoo…”

“If you thought I was joking, then why did I hear you broke up with your boyfriend?” He turned to face you, his hands tugging at the knot of his tie. Your eyes grew wide before you broke the shared eye contact; how did he know? He couldn’t have known unless he was keeping tabs on you or following you.

“W-What—”

“Rumors spread fast here, you should know that. I’m surprised you didn’t let it slip that we slept together.” He took long strides to you, loosening his tie around his neck, “If you didn’t want to be mine, why did you break up with your boyfriend?”

“Because… I can.”

“Did you feel guilty? Or could he not satisfy the need I planted inside you?” Kihyun wasn’t wrong on either point, you did feel guilty and you tried to forget about Kihyun, but no matter how many times you fucked your boyfriend—he just couldn’t satisfy you. Couldn’t even get close anymore and when you pleasured yourself, you let your thoughts linger on Kihyun, trying to even get a little taste of him.

“It wasn’t like that. He just wasn’t—”

“Enough.” He sat on the desk in front of you, his dress slacks not leaving anything to the imagination, his cock stiffening under the layers of fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erection growing in front of you, the heat that settled in your core starting to burn so sweetly that the thin fabric of your panties didn’t stand a chance against your eager juices.

“And? You expect me to give into you that easily?” You uncrossed your leg, standing up to be in between his legs, “I’m not that kind of girl, Kihyun.”

“Oh…” His eyes followed your shape, his hand reaching out to trace the top of your shirt, the warmth of his fingers radiating through your black shirt, warming the skin under it, “But you are for me.” You scoffed trying to push his hand from your body when your wrist was caught in his hand, “How about a deal?”

“A deal?” You rolled your eyes, attempting to tug your hand from his grasp, your effort failing as he pulled you closer, his knee slipping between your legs, forcing your skirt up your legs.

“Let me have you one last time, if you don’t cum, I’ll leave you alone, but if you do, you’re mine, exclusively.” He knew the deal he was offering you was a trap, he remembered that night so vividly that he could still feel your grip around his fingers and throbbing cock; he had a feeling you would say no, but yet—

“Try me…” You unzipped your skirt, it bunching up around your ankles, “If you think you’re so good…” You sat back down in the leather chair, stripping your panties from your sticky folds, letting them fall to the floor. Dark irises watched as your hands dipped in between your legs, them opening to reveal your fingers spreading your plush lips open, “Spell out what you’re gonna do to me.” A sly smirk tugged at his lips as he dropped down to his knees, wrapping his large hands around your thighs, and pulling your hunger closer to his devilish pout. Desperate love bites crawled over your thighs, only nipping at the sensitive skin of your slick lips; your rasped gasps made him chuckle, the vibrations against your core already too much to handle. Kihyun enjoyed listening to you come undone without actually dipping into your folds—making you cum quickly wasn’t what he had planned.

“You’re so sensitive, Y/N…” He pressed a smoldering kiss to your throbbing clit, his warm wet muscle slipping into your dripping crevice, rubbing its roughness over your overly sensitive nerves. Reddened lips wrapped around your arousal, gentle teeth nipping at its hardness before letting his tongue flick over it; you clamped your thighs around his head while your hands gripped the beautiful gray locks, burying his face into your pussy. Kihyun’s tongue immersed itself into your aching core, your back arching off the leather, breathless moans escaping your burning lungs. The tingle that appeared in your toes was a sign that you were close, but you were gonna let him make you cum so easily; you pushed his head away from your core, his lust hooded eyes meeting yours.

“Not so fast.” You wrapped your fingers around his tie, pulling him up to meet your kiss, your tongues meshing into one another, the taste of your need flooding your tastebuds. Your hands made quick work of his belt and the button of his slack; you yanked his pants down enough for his cock to pop out of the elastic waistband of his boxers. Kihyun growled as you pulled away from his kiss, standing to pull him up to his feet, and leading him to his desk chair, “Sit, Kihyun.”

“You being in control is sexy…” He fell into his chair, his cock standing at attention at the sight of your strings of arousal clinging to your thighs from your heat. You straddled his thighs, lining your core with his erection, the anticipation inside your belly causing your body to shiver in excitement; you sunk down onto him, the burn you craved since your last meeting finally filled your being. Kihyun watched as your head rolled back from the surge of pleasure he was granting you, and he wasn’t even thrusting into you yet; the grip and warmth of your walls squeezed him so hard, he felt like he could cum any minute, but he’s not here for him—he’s here to take you. He rested his hands on your hips, his fingers not staying put for too long—the gentle tracing of your body under your shirt was the quickest way to remove the needless article of clothing and a good way to make you mewl. You lifted your hips, quickly burying him back into your sopping wet pussy, Kihyun’s cock was perfect in every shape or form—he filled you so nicely and he reached places that the toys you’d been using couldn’t even scratch. You rocked back and forth against him, his cock pressing and kissing your sweetest of spots, making you whine between strings of curses.

“Fuck—”

“How does it feel to ride me again?” He hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs, his nails taking over your skin, them sending electricity up your body as you rode him, your body eager for release. You no longer cared about the deal, the burn in your stomach was the only thing tainting your thoughts. Kihyun brought one of his hands up to your mouth, sliding two of his finger into your mouth, your lips wrapped around them and your tongue twisted around them; the image of your mouth wrapped around him made him groan, hands quick to stall your hip movements, “On your knees.” You groaned, shaking your head.

“But I’m cl—”

“If you even want to cum tonight, you’ll get on your knees.” His tone excited you, this was the Kihyun you knew, the one who took what he wanted by a single growl. You got off of him and fell down to your knees, your hand already wrapping around his cock coated in your juices. The squelching sound coming from your hand stroking his length aroused you more, you opened your mouth and engulfed him. His eyes watched as you swallowed him whole, his cock twitching in the tightness of your throat, “Ah, fuck…” He buried his hands into your hair, gripping it tightly as he stood up and thrusted into your mouth. Kihyun loved hearing you gag around him as he used your mouth like it was your pussy, he just couldn’t get enough of your erotic voice and the feeling of your nails digging into his thighs. He slid his cock down your throat until your nose was pressed up against his torso, his eyes caught the tears rolling down your cheeks, a slight chuckle leaving him before he pulled out of your mouth, “Up against the window for me, Princess.”

“The window…?” You looked over at the floor to ceiling windows, the people in the building next door were easily seen from his office, what if they could see what you were doing to him?

“You scared?” He picked you up off the floor and carried you over to the window, letting your feet touch the ground before turning you around and pinning your chest to the window, “Let them see me fucking the sexiest woman in this building.” Kihyun plunged his cock into your core, a scream pleasure ripping out of your throat. He rammed his length into you, making pointed strokes at your rough patch of nerves to give you what you were whining for, screaming for. The burn in your belly quickly turned into a wildfire spreading through your limbs, singeing every nerve in your body so blissfully. Your mind melted into a high that you hadn’t felt in so long that your body shook in pure ecstasy, “That’s it, cum around my cock.” He hummed, reaching around to rub your clit, intensifying your high; your eyes rolled back as you screamed in pleasure, your orgasm dripping down your legs to the puddle of your arousal in between your stance.

“Kihyun—Please—” You gasped, drool running down your chin.

“Please what? You want me to cum?” Your pussy gripped him so tightly like it wanted him to cum inside you as if it was eager to taste him, “Where do you want me, baby?”

“Anywhere…” Kihyun pulled out of you for you to turn around and drop to your knees, “Mouth open, hands out, Princess.” You opened your mouth, putting your tongue out, and bringing up your hands, your lust swirled irises bore into him as he stroked his length, your gorgeous display bringing him to the edge. He pumped his vitality into your face, your mouth and hands catching the short splurts, your face looked even more beautiful covered in him, “You’re mine now, Y/N.” He panted watching you lick him from your lips.

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sides of a Hero

RE-UPLOAD BECAUSE THE OTHER POST GOT DELETED ACCIDENTALLY 

Chapter index --------- Chapter 17 

Chapter 18 - Aching in my Head

Summary:  Although Terrence had been away, he still sensed that something was wrong and thankfully he acted on his instinct and alerted others to Thomas’ radio silence. 24hours of silence may seem like nothing to some, but for someone like Thomas, it was definitely a red flag. Terrence and Joan gain access to Thomas’ house, not entirely sure what they are expecting/hoping to find.

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PLEASE, check the warnings on the chapter index if you aren’t familiar with them. Stay safe. Things will get better, I promise.

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The moment he opened his eyes, Thomas regretted the action. His head pounded and he felt like he was laying on a bed of spikes rather than his supportive mattress. Despite the low light that filled the room, his eyes burnt as if he was looking directly at the midday sun and he squeezed them shut as his head exploded with a new wave of pain.

The pain was excruciating, to the point he couldn't think straight, and it felt like his senses were barely functioning. Feeling the burn of acid rising in his throat, Thomas painfully stumbled towards the bathroom; not daring to open his eyes more than a slither in an attempt to lessen the pain in his head. Finally leaning over the cool porcelain bowl, Thomas was faced with the horrible sensation of expelling only bile thanks to having not eaten since the previous evening. Folding his arms across the bowl, he rested his forehead on his arms as his stomach continued to heave and churn. It felt like his skull was going to burst open with the pressure in his head and he silently wished it would just so the pain would end.

  **********************************************************************************

 Joan pushed the door open, swiftly pulling the key out of the lock as they strode inside with Terrence quickly pushing past and heading for the lounge.

"Thomas?" Terrance scanned the empty couch before heading up the stairs.

Joan paused at the dining table, scanning the downstairs area and confirming that everything was where it should feasibly be. Nothing was out of place and Thomas' laptop was set down neatly on the table. Any other time Joan would have felt comforted being there, but today they just felt lost.

 As Terrance reach the top of the stairs, he heard coughing coming from the bathroom and felt his heart skip a beat. Despite his mind screaming "danger", he charged into the bathroom without a second thought. The relief that flooded Terrence's body upon seeing Thomas was quickly turned back into worry as he took in his friends trembling form.

"He's here, Joan!" Terrence called over his shoulder before kneeling behind Thomas and resting a comforting hand on his back. "Hey buddy, you alright?"

 Thomas knew someone was in the room with him and was beginning to register that there was a hand on his back, but he couldn't quite hear what they were saying. As Thomas lent back, Terrence helped guide him so he could lean against the wall in the small room. Joan appeared in the doorway and locked eyes with Terrence.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure yet." Terrence moved next to Thomas to give him something stable to lean against. "Thomas? Talk to us."

Terrence's voice was soft and gentle, and Thomas was relieved when his brain was able to function enough to connect what he was hearing to his conscious thought.

"Terrence?" mumbled Thomas softly.

"Yeah, man. It's me." Terrence gently placed a hand on Thomas' forehead to check his temperature; he was warm, but not to any concerning degree. "What's going on?"

"Headache."

"Have you taken anything for it?"

"mh-mm."

Terrence looked up at Joan who nodded and went straight to the medicine cabinet to find some form of pain relief. Joan had seen a few people suffer from migraines before, but this was a new level for Thomas, and it was jarring to see their friend so distressed.

"Do you think you can stand?" Terrence whispered, now aware of how loud his voice was in the echoing room. "The floor isn't very comfortable."

"Maybe." Thomas didn't want to move; fearing that standing would trigger more nausea and he did not want to feel that way again any time soon.

Joan finally found some Advil, filled a small cup with water and knelt in front of Thomas. "This should help."

Thomas gratefully accepted both, feeling the cool water soothe his burnt throat and give his stomach something to hold on to.

"We need to get you out of here," Joan commented, "or you need to make your floor more comfortable."

Thomas managed the smallest of smiles, before returning to a grimace as he slowly stood. Terrence did his best to support his friend but quickly realised that their height difference meant he wasn't much help at all.

"I could be more helpful if I were taller," Terrence grumbled as Thomas stopped and swayed slightly; bracing against the wall briefly before continuing to move forward.

"You could also say it would be easier if Thomas was shorter," added Joan as they moved to Thomas' other side and helped guide their friend back into his room.

"I didn't choose my height." Thomas spoke in a barely audible mumble, feeling bad as he gripped Terrence's shoulder to stop himself from leaning too far sideways. "I used to be short."

"Yeah you were." A smile managed to crawl across Terrence's face, “But we were probably still shorter."

 Thomas was thankful to be back on his bed now; it felt so much better after experiencing the hard, cold, bathroom floor. It was only a small distance between his room and the bathroom, but it felt as though he had run a full marathon. His muscles ached and the throbbing at the back of his head was still his biggest source of grief. Terrence helped adjust pillows to make Thomas more comfortable, before finally settling himself up beside him.

Joan noticed Thomas' phone lying on the carpet; picking it up to discover that the battery was completely dead.

"Well this explains why he wasn't answering any of your calls." Joan showed Terrence the black screen before walking away to plug it into a charger.

"I'm sorry," Thomas mumbled, feeling guilty for making his friends worry about him so much.

"There is absolutely nothing to apologise for." Terrence brushed Thomas' hair away from his face and smiled. "We're not going to disown you because you're sick."

"Speak for yourself," Joan grumbled; a smile pulling at their cheeks. "No friend of mine is going to hide being unwell and get away with it."

 Thomas grimaced as Joan's phone started ringing loudly; they gave Terrence an apologetic look before racing out of the room. Terrence gently stroked Thomas' hair, his mind still racing as he wondered if they were doing the right thing. Thomas had been unresponsive all day. What had he been doing all day? How long had he been in pain? Should they be taking him to a doctor? Questions continued to race through Terrence's mind at a rapid pace and he was unable to grasp them long enough to assess them logically. Watching Thomas' face slowly calm and soften provided him with some comfort, and he did his best to remain calm as he waited for Joan to return.

 **********************************************************************************

 Computer screens flickered between black and static; the mechanical hum filled Logan's ears as he regained consciousness on the hard floor of his territory’s lab. His limbs felt weighted and he struggled to get his eyes to focus as he attempted to evaluate the room. The humming and flickering of lights was overwhelming and Logan groaned as he rolled over with heavy limbs, and slowly dragged himself across the floor to reach his room. As he came closer to the door, paper started feeding through a printer; the scratching and scraping of the machine caused Logan to stop and press his hands against his ears in an attempt to dull the unbearable sound. Tears welled in his eyes as the rooms light and sounds continued to increase, and his attempts to block out the stimuli proved futile.

"P-P-P-Patton." he whimpered into the floor, "Rommman. Helllllp."

 **********************************************************************************

 When Roman opened his eyes, he was surprised with how normal the room around him seemed. The bed beneath him was soft and the wooden frame was reminiscent of a design Thomas had seen in an old story book. Sitting up and looking around at the stone walls, Roman found the rooms design to be simple and well organised. Clean wooden dressers with mirrors set on top, mounted swords and other weaponry, two plain wooden doors, a shuttered window, a curious staircase spiralling upwards, and his grand oak door to the common area.  Cautiously standing, Roman moved towards one of the dressers mirrors and was shocked to find himself still in his black stained attire; face smeared with dirt and black.

"NO!"

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, cupping his face as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and dropped to his knees. He felt his clothing shift as he willed himself clean, wishing he could also clean his mind of the horrible memory of the cliff edge. He could still feel the vines around his neck and the screams of Patton and Rage haunted his hearing in the quiet room. Shaking his head slowly, Roman managed to hold back the tears as he stood and faced his reflection again. The side staring back at him looked afraid and broken. Roman braced his hands against the dresser and stared hard at his reflection.

"My name is Roman, and I am a core side of Thomas Sanders. My main role is managing the imagination kingdom and facilitating Thomas' dreams and creative aspirations. I've fused and worked with many impulses and aspects during Thomas' life and they have shaped me. I am strong. I will get through this. For me. For Thomas. For..."

Roman swallowed and stood up straight, retaking his proud stance and looking a lot more like himself.

"For Virgil."

Satisfied with how he looked, Roman strode over to the window and threw open the shutters to look at the kingdom. The chaos that he saw took his breath away and he immediately sunk down to reach what was once the main square.

 The kingdom was in shambles as every aspect of Thomas' imagination filled the town. Roman had always enjoyed the fantasy aesthetic and had previously designed the kingdom so that each stone or wooden hut acted as a sealed portal to different imaginative realms. Now, a skyscraper sat next to his castle, 2D cartoon animals were running down the street, various people that Thomas had seen or met roamed the streets in confusion, and two dragons flew overhead as they were chased by a Harry Potter themed Thomas on a broom.

Roman stood next to a Doctor Who Tardis, watching as Lion from Steven Universe chased a young Simba down an alleyway between a brick house and a Krispy Kreme store. Roman felt someone come up beside him, sipping loudly from a straw.

"This place is an absolute mess, Babes." Turning, Roman saw a Thomas in a black leather jacket, dark sunglasses and the tag 'sleep' stuck on his chest.

"I can see that," Roman looked back out at the chaos and felt tired just imagining how much effort it was going to take to organise the kingdom again.

"Are you going to fix this anytime soon?" Sleep added in annoyance. "You cannot have a Starbucks right next to a jumping castle. I mean, it is just tacky."

Roman was about to reply when a horse came racing through the square, covered in gold and red ribbons and Stitch riding happily on its back.

"WAIT FOR ME!"

Roman looked to where the horse had come from and saw the Prince character come puffing and panting into the square, and stop in front of him and Sleep.

"Prince Roman! Good to see you." The Prince beamed at the pair and Roman couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the eccentric Prince. "Love the new layout by the way. So much chaos. It's an endless adventure. Hazzah!"

Prince sprinted after the horse and Stitch, laughing joyously as he left.

Sleep looked sideways at Roman. "Seriously? I cannot deal. Fix this."

"Oh sure." Roman turned to the sarcastic voice that came from the now opened Tardis. "He was going to leave it like this, but he will definitely change it just for you, Sleep."

"Oh, shut it, Anxiety."

"Virgil?" Roman's voice broke as he said the name, staring at the black jacketed Thomas.

"What? No." Anxiety looked at Roman in confusion. "How could you ever mistake me for that freak? We are nothing alike."

"I-I-I... I've got to go" Roman sunk out, leaving the two Sanders Shorts characters to share a confused glance.

"That was weird. Even for him." Anxiety commented. "What do you think happened?"

Sleep shrugged, "I don't care as long as he fixes this mess."

Anxiety lent against the Tardis and watched Sleep walk away. Roman had never confused the Shorts characters with the Sides before; even others like him that didn't wear a label. It didn't sit well with the figment and it only confirmed the fear that many figments already had; the mindscape had lost a main side. Anxiety sunk back into the darkness of the Tardis, feeling it was probably best if he made himself disappear for a while.

.

.

.

Roman rose up in his room again and looked at his door to the common area. Sadness gripped his throat and he quickly turned away to walk up the staircase that led to a tower. As much as he wanted to see the others, Roman knew he wasn't ready to face them yet. He had failed to save them. He was meant to be the brave and heroic prince, but he couldn't save them. Reaching the top of the tower, Roman leant on the brick edge and looked out at the kingdom. The wind blew through his territory and rustled Roman’s hair, carrying the scent of coffee and fresh popcorn.

"I'm sorry, Virgil." Roman let his eyes wander across the view of the kingdom as he spoke to the wind. "I couldn't keep you safe. I let you down. I let everyone down...but I won't let these guys down."

Roman extended his hand out to the skyscraper to his left and gestured down; the building began to warp and fuse with the castle to make another tower. Pausing, Roman looked down at the main square as he saw Elliot talking to Lapis Lazuli. He had always kept the different realms separated and the portals locked; only allowing the fantasy characters to roam freely. As much as the kingdom seemed chaotic with all the free roaming, it was also nice to see the different crossovers. Roman thought for a moment before warping another building and adding a yellow star to the door. Picturing a portal behind the door that would lead to his Steven Universe realm, Roman smiled to himself as he left the portal unlocked before moving on to adjust the next building. As the kingdom retook shape, Roman felt himself slowly regaining his confidence; but his vision began to blur at the edges the longer he worked.

 As Roman continued, a roar sounded behind him and he turned to see a blue dragon flying towards the tower. The dragon carefully grabbed the edge of the tower, folding its wings before crawling down to bow before Roman.

"Pleasure to see you are well my Prince." The dragon raised its head, so they were at eye level with Roman. "We feared that you had been lost to us."

"I am sorry to have worried you, Ledilit. I didn't think of alerting the guard when I regained consciousness."

The dragon recoiled slightly as Roman reached out to stroke the creature’s sapphire scales but allowed the prince to touch them as they registered the sadness in his eyes.

"Estelle has not returned. Were we right to assume she was lost to us?" Roman nodded and continued to stroke Ledilit's head. "I am sorry for your loss my prince."

"No," Roman stopped his movement and bowed to the confused dragon. "I am sorry for your loss. Estelle was a fine leader, your kin and I ..."

Ledilit used their head to push Roman back into a standing position and spoke sternly. "Do not lower yourself for me. Estelle valued her role and her friendship with you. She would not be impressed with you acting in such a way."

A small laugh escaped Roman's lips as he imagined Estelle's reaction. "Indeed, she wouldn't."

"As Estelle's second, I will assume the role as head guard dragon." Roman nodded in agreement and smiled at Ledelit. "Very well. What is your order for the guard?"

"Oh, of course." Roman snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hands. "Can you please assess the impulses of the kingdom."

"What are we assessing?" Ledelit moved next to Roman to get a better view of the scroll, covered in names of key impulses, aspects and figments.

"After the mindscapes reset, we need to establish which aspects and impulses are still present and which are miss..."

Roman paused as he saw Rage on the list, and he heard the impulse screaming in his head again.

"Prince Roman?" Ledelit's voice was laced with concern as they nudged the prince slightly.

"Rage, Deceit and Virgil... They are your top priority." Roman looked at the dragon, a single tear escaped his eye despite his determined expression. "Any trace of them and you let me know. I need... I need to know if they are gone."

The look in Roman's eyes spoke volumes and Ledilit nodded, carefully taking the scroll in one of their claws. They still weren't sure what happened during the storm, but it was clear that Estelle wasn't the only casualty. As they took flight to inform the guard, Ledilit couldn't help but fear for the mindscape and the possible repercussions of losing a core side.

Roman watched Ledelit head towards the forest, wiping his eyes before deciding he couldn't put off seeing the others any longer. Composing himself as he walked down the stairs, Roman entered his room and looked at the door to the common area. Striding straight past his now blurred mirrors, Roman stood at the door with his hand resting on the handle; a mild tremor in his hand and the slightest throbbing at the front of his head. As much as he wanted to see the others, he couldn't bring himself to open the door.

"P-P-P-Patton. Rommman. Helllllp.

Logan's voice rang in Roman's ears and his hand instantly tightened around the handle and pulled the door open.

 **********************************************************************************

 Four impulses stood in a void of darkness, unsure of where they were or what exactly had happened. Three stood in a tight circle, while the fourth roamed around the outside and inspected the space.

 "Looks like we unfused."

"We don't have consciousness. That's terrible."

"Does that mean Thomas doesn't have access to our influence?"

"He's not in danger. We don't need to get back to the mindscape."  

"We can do that?"

"Absolutely. "

"I can't see any harm in trying. Selfishness? What do you think?"

 Selfishness turned and raised his eyes to look at the snake-eyed Lying, black coated Deception, and armoured Self-Preservation. Lying and Deception were already holding hands; clearly, they were eager to try and get back together. Self-Preservation shuffled closer as Selfishness averted his gaze and folded his arms.

"Are you having second thoughts about fusing with us?" Self-Preservation asked, moving around and bending over sideways to be in Selfishness' line of sight again. "Do you regret fusing with us instead of Greed?"

"I only regret allowing us to remain outcasts." Selfishness admitted, raising his head so Self-Preservation could return to a normal position. "It feels like our existence was wasted and lost in the mindscape."

"Perhaps this is our opportunity for a second go at it. I mean, three of us were tainted by Survival last time." Selfishness didn't look convinced and Self Preservation sighed. "But…It's ok if you don't want to fuse. It is your decision in the end, but I still believe Thomas needs us; even if he doesn't fully understand our purpose."

 Selfishness watched the others join hands and he felt their pull as the three commenced a fusion. Time seemed to slow as he considered his options; 1) fuse again with the others and likely return to the mindscape as Deceit, or 2) stay put and hope he could return to the mindscape on his own. Selfishness made his decision as the impulses burst into light and illuminated the darkness that had surrounded them.

 **********************************************************************************

 Patton gasped and sat upright, shivering in the heavy rain that soaked the old playground. The water running down a slide had pooled around him to form a deep puddle and Patton stumbled slightly as he tried to stand; feet sinking in the soft ground. Once upright and stable, Patton cast his gaze up to the sky and let the rain coat his glasses and blurr his vision; closing his eyes as he felt the water cleanse him of dirt and darkness. The rain was a good thing in a way; falling from grey clouds of sadness and loss. Patton would have remained there for hours, soaking in his own sorrow, but he sensed a light to his left and had to open his eyes to investigate.

 A little wooden cubby house was ablaze with white light and Patton held his breath as he walked closer. The light dissipated and Patton opened the door to find a room lit only by the yellow-green hue of glow in the dark star stickers on the surprisingly high ceiling. Summoning a light to the ceiling, Patton lit the room further to reveal an expanded space that was decorated with scraps of fabric and oversized recycled materials; reminiscent of a craft project Thomas had done as a child. Standing in the centre of the room was an impulse, appearing to be inspecting themselves in a tinfoil mirror.

“Dee?”

The impulse jumped slightly and turned to look at Patton, yellow face scales shining in the torch light and his face softened.

“I guess I can use that name.”

Patton lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Dee, locking him into a tight hug. Dee kept his arms at his side, unsure of what to do with them.

“I’m so glad you are ok.” Tears ran down Patton’s cheeks as he spoke. “I thought you had faded for sure.”

Finally, Dee moved his arms and returned Patton’s hug; letting his head drop and rest on the sides shoulder. The hug was warm and a comfort he hadn’t experienced before. He wished it would never end, because ending the hug would mean facing Patton and acknowledging the truth of what had happened. Eventually, Patton loosened his grip and, after a few more seconds, Dee did the same so he could look at Patton’s eyes.

“You look different.” Patton commented, tentatively reaching out to inspect Dee’s scales. “Your eyes are still different but your slit one is more brown than yellow now, and your scales look darker without the light on them.”

“Different is good right?” Dee turned to look at the foil mirror again, “It’s only a small change. I’m my own fusion now. Not a fraction of…Survival.”

Turning back, Dee was surprised to see Patton smiling despite tears still rimming his eyes.

“Looks to me like you have grown a lot from that lying impulse I use to know”

“Yeah. Now it’s my choice, not my curse.” Patton looked at Dee in concern and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, Pat. Thomas isn’t a completely honest person.”

“I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”

“None of us like lying,” The ground was suddenly a very interesting thing for Dee to look at. “Lying to ourselves has short-term gains and long-term problems, and sometimes it protects others feelings or causes riffs in friendships. Regardless, I am still a part of Thomas and now I think I really will be able to find my place in the mindscape. Find my name and show….”

Patton remained still and quiet as he watched Dee speak. In the past he had always ignored Deceit and instantly labelled his lies as bad; therefore, labelling the impulse bad as well. Now a new impulse stood before him. Someone with the same role as Deceit, but a more adjusted and flexible mindset in the place of the deceitful manipulator. Dee was just as determined as Deceit to find his place and name but seemed more at peace with the fact that that journey could take time for him and Thomas.

“… show that there’s…” Dee looked up and locked eyes with Patton. “There is more to me than just a liar.”

“Well,” Patton wiped his eyes and smiled. “Just know that, even if we disagree sometimes, I’m rootin’ for ya… Kiddo.”

Dee chuckled and his slit eye seemed to sparkle mischievously. “I hate you so much right now.”

“I know.” Patton knelt to look out the cubby’s window and saw the rain had slowed to a light shower. “Do you want to help me check on the others?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

 Conjuring a bowler hat to his head, Dee took a final glance in the mirror before turning back to Patton. The moral side had his hand already outstretched to take the impulse directly to his room and Dee couldn’t help but smile; thankful to be setting up a more positive and functional relationship with the core side.

“Patton!” Dee and Patton’s faces dropped as the voice of Roman echoed faintly through the cubby. “Come on, Logan needs you.”

Dee grabbed Patton’s hand and the side sunk them down to his room, where Patton pulled open his common room door and ran straight to Logan’s open room. Dee froze in the hallway, unable to move his eyes past the blank wall opposite Logan’s door.

 **********************************************************************************

 Roman didn't bother closing his door as he stepped through, and he didn't dare turn his head to look in the direction of Virgil's door, as he walked towards Logan's room. His hand froze before landing on the handle as he considered what lay beyond the door. Fist raised, Roman knocked loudly on the door and pleaded for a reply; but only silence greeted him.

"Logan!" Roman knocked again, though he wasn't liking his chances of a sarcastic reply. "Come on, Lo. Don't make me come in there."

Although he spoke in a joking manner, Roman was truthfully worried to enter the room. He had been in the room before, but those visits were only very brief; barely enough time for him to be influenced in any way. However, he had seen Logan turn into a skipping rapper after spending 5 minutes in his room, which proved all their rooms had the potential to influence them. He couldn't imagine what effects Logan's room would have on him; especially considering he was already worked up and slightly weaker after starting the kingdoms adjustments.

 As the silence continued to stretch on, Roman swallowed his pride and tested the door handle. The door opened with ease and Roman peered in to investigate the neat office bedroom that he had seen over Logan's shoulder many times before.

"Logan? You in there?"

Roman lent into the room; his feet still not passing the entrance as he searched for any sign of the logical side.

"Ok Roman. Logan called for help and it is our duty to help him." Roman closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself, "Any side effects are only temporary. If you could do it for Virgil, you can do it for Logan. Let��s go!"

Roman charged into the room as if he was walking through a wall of fire, rather than simply entering a room.

"Logan! Where are you?"

Roman called out as he opened the door to the small bathroom and then a small library of large books that he had never seen before. After quickly clearing those rooms, that left only Logan's door to his territory, a solid metal door with a keycode lock. Roman attempted the door handle and wasn't surprised to find it locked shut.

"Hey Logan! Let me in!" Pressing his ear against the surprisingly warm door, Roman could hear the faint sound of machinery and felt the throbbing in his head slowly intensify. "What sort of person calls for help but locks the hero out?"

Roman began pressing the buttons on the keypad randomly, hoping to accidently find the magic combination to open the door. Frustration mounting, he slammed his fists against the metal and was met with a cry of pain from the other side.

"Logan? Logan?!" Roman moved his ear around the door, trying to find a point where he could hear better. "Come on, Buddy, talk to me."

"Rrr-mmmn."

Roman lay on the ground alongside the door, ear still pressed against the metal as sweat ran down his face and his clothes absorbed the salty residue.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Can you sink out, or at least open this door." Roman could hear Logan's strained groans, but nothing happened. "Ok. It's ok. Um... What should I do?"

Roman's heart raced and he swore the door was getting hotter as his mind started to race with possibilities of what was happening on the other side of the door.

"How do you think straight in this place!" Roman sat up and cupped his head in his hands. "There are just so many possibilities. Is this what you think like all day?"

As the ideas and possibilities continued to swirl in his mind, Roman became acutely aware of his pounding head and obscured vision.  

"Argh! Patton!" Roman squeezed his eyes shut tight as he tried to calm his mind and reduce the rooms influence, hoping the mindscape would carry his message to Patton. “Come on, Logan needs you.”

 Unable to get any relief, Roman lay back on the ground and tried to focus on Logan.

"C-can you ... Give m-me the code?"

"nnni--eeenn...ennn..."

 .

.

.

"Roman!" Patton raced into the room and leaned over the creative side with a look of intense concern. "What's going on? You are soaked."

"So are you," Roman replied and Patton realised he was still in his wet clothes.

"It was raining. Where's Logan?"

"Stuck in there. We nnneed a code." Roman squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over him and his eyes burned from the light in the room.

Patton’s eyes glowed blue as he assessed Roman for injuries and recognised familiar symptoms that he wouldn’t be able to avert on his own.

"Dee! Can you get Roman out of here?" Patton called out to the hallway before laying on the other side of Roman to press his own ear against the door. "Logan? It's Patton. Can you tell me the code?"

"nnni--eeenn...ennn...wn-ty...s-x...tnnn"

 Dee managed to tear his eyes away from the wall to enter Logan's room at Patton's request. Noticing Roman on the ground, Dee walked over with purpose and pulled the sides arm over his shoulder to help raise him into a sitting position.

"Just so you know, this is going to hurt me more than you."

Roman didn't have time to respond before Dee teleported them straight from Logan's room to Roman's door. Roman gasped for air as his head swam from the movement and a sudden weight was lifted from his head, as his thoughts settled and blurred. Two hands steadied his shoulders as his body slid sideways against the wall.

"You good, Princey?

The world stabilised slowly, but Roman's heart ached as his mind misheard Virgil's voice calling him "Princey" rather than Dee's.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"That's an obvious lie, but I'll accept it." Dee looked over his shoulder to call back into Logan's room. "He's all good, Patton. How's Logan?"

 Patton thought hard about what Logan had mumbled, recognising that there were missing sounds in the words Logan was trying to communicate. Standing, he stared at the keypad and did his best to imagine what Logan would enter every day. Suddenly everything fell into place.

"I've got it!"

"Got what?" Dee called out in confusion.

"Nineteen, ten, twenty, sixteen. The day Thomas uploaded the first Sanders Sides video."

Patton keyed in the numbers and the door allowed him to pull it open effortlessly, revealing Logan's lab. The machinery sounds overpowered Patton’s senses and a stifling wave of heat hit him as he stepped inside to reach Logan's passed out form.

 .

.

.

The hallway lights dimmed, and Dee glanced around in confusion and worry. He wasn’t sure what it meant but knew it couldn’t be good.

“Hey guys? Care to share what is happening? I can’t sense Thomas yet.”

“It’s a…” Roman tried to use the wall to stand but quickly slid back down to the floor with a groan and a thud.

“W-w-woah.” Dee knelt and grabbed Roman’s shoulders again as the side mumbled incoherently. “Come on, Roman. You’re alright. You’re alright. Patton! I lied and I need your help!”

No reply came and Dee was torn between helping Roman, going to check on Patton, or fleeing before he became affected by the invisible force. His breathing increased as he struggled to decide with the pressure of the moment, until he heard footsteps coming from Roman’s room.

“Who’s there?”

“Hey Pal...” The impulse came through the door and knelt before Dee and Roman. “Geeze, you guys look like crap.”

“Thank you, Rage. I was just wondering what your opinion was.” Dee smiled, glad to see his friend in one piece. “Now, are you here to sass or to help?”

“Help, obviously.” Rage ran his fingers through his crimson brown hair, revealing a ruby iris in his right eye. “What do you need?”

“Go into Logan’s room and help Patton. I’m gonna…” Dee ran through his options in his head again. “I’m going to get Roman into his room.”

“I’m on it.”

Rage stood and headed into Logan’s room while Dee pulled Roman’s arm over his shoulders and attempted to stand.

"Let's go, Roman, help me out here." Huffed Dee, as he struggled to manage Roman's weight. "Don't make me teleport again."

"lll right."

Roman's voice was barely a whisper as he did his best to help Dee, despite his now wavering consciousness. Eventually the two were able to slowly stumble into Roman's room and Dee deposited the side on his bed. As soon as he was sure that Roman was safe, to a degree, Dee headed back out to Logan's room.

.

.

.

The room was so loud that Patton couldn't hear anything other than the scraping and whirring of machinery. The heat had Patton's glasses fogging as he knelt to roll Logan onto his back and assess the logical side. Talking was pointless due to the noise and the heat made it impossible for Patton to focus his influence or sink out, no matter how hard he tried. Realising healing or sinking out wasn’t an option, Patton stood and moved behind Logan so he could lift him into an upright position and drag him out of the lab.

Once safely out of the lab, Patton let Logan rest on the floor as he went to close the door and seal out the noise and heat. Patton was so focused on the task at hand, that he didn't sense Rage's presence until he turned back around and saw the impulse kneeling over Logan.

"Rage?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Rage remained focused on Logan, swiping his sweat soaked hair away from the sides face. "What is going on here?"

Patton rocked backwards slightly, but thankfully he was still close enough to the lab door that he didn't fall.

"It isn't something that you need to worry about."

Rage looked up and knitted his eyebrows together, fixing Patton with a firm stare as the moral side swayed again.

"Don't bullshit me, Pat. Logan and Roman are both out for the count, you can barely stand, and Logan's territory has turned into an oven. Spill!"

"I'll be fine once I'm out of here." Patton got Logan upright and pulled his arm over his shoulder; Rage instantly mimicked Patton's move on the other side so they could work together to lift Logan. "It's just a migraine headache."

"Bullsh...."

"He's telling the truth, Rage."

Dee entered the room as Rage and Patton reached Logan's bed and Rage set to making Logan comfortable. Dee stepped forward to support Patton as the side swayed again; leading the side out of the room and straight into Patton's own room.

"Thanks Dee." Patton sat on the edge of his bed and rested his face in his hands as his mind started to clear. "Logan's room can be a bit intense when he isn't feeling well." "That is a normal thing?" Rage questioned from the doorway. He hadn't had much to do with Patton in the past and wasn't sure of the influence of his room.

Patton sighed, "I'm not normally around that late into the situation. Generally, Logan has his room under control before the pain sets in."

"And Roman?" Asked Dee.

"Logan use to give Roman and Vir..." Patton swallowed and looked over at the questioning impulse. "He would let them know what was happening so they could prepare. Headaches make it hard to remain focused and think clearly, so the others have always been affected more than me. I will admit that...that was not normal."

"It's an after effect of ... Those two jumping, isn't it?" Rage offered. "Thomas is still in pain."

 Patton nodded and looked up to a large photo frame that sat on one of his shelves. The original image faded and was replaced with the view of Terrence and Joan helping Thomas onto his bed. Patton lowered himself back onto his own bed, recognising that Thomas had taken pain relief and was beginning to relax with the presence of friends.

"He will be ok, Kiddos." Eye lids heavy, Patton adjusted his position as he spoke. "The pain killers will help cool down Logan’s territory; Terrence and Joan will watch over Thomas; and Roman and I just need rest. I promise, it will all be ok."

Patton's breathing steadied as he fell asleep and Dee sighed, "Liar."

  Rage and Dee slowly made their way out to the hallway, and Rage walked over to sit and lean against the vacant wall. Dee watched as Rage sat and closed his eyes, still unable to fully process his feelings.

"You gonna sit with me, Deceit, or stare at me?"

"It's Dee." Rage opened his eyes at looked at his friend apologetically. "Just until I find a better name."

"I guess a lot has changed then, huh?" Rage closed his eyes again and Dee settled down next to him. "Guess that’s what happens when you get ripped apart and have to pull yourself back together again."

"True."

Rage opened his eyes and glanced over at Dee, who was fidgeting with his gloves like his childhood self. His mind flickered back to a faint memory of Survival and Virgil talking and identifying that Deceit had been a part of them.

"I guess it's harder for you. You haven't really been ... You, all this time."

Dee nodded.

"I think it's ok for you to feel a little lost right now." Dee stopped fidgeting but didn't look at Rage. "The whole mindscape his just as lost. A core side literally disappeared over the edge of the mindscape. I'd be worried if we didn't feel a little lost."

"Do you think they are really gone?" Now Dee turned to look at Rage. "Or will they come back like we did?"

"Guilt is looking into it."

"Wait!" Dee's eyes went wide. "Guilt is back?"

"Yeah. Woke up in the forest with him." "Where is he?"

"I left him to go search for the Oasis while I headed towards the kingdom. Got picked up by one of Roman's dragons and brought here to find you guys."

Dee went to stand but Rage grabbed his arm. "What are you doing? We need to help Guilt."

"Nah," Rage shook his head and smiled, "Roman's got it covered. His dragons are searching the open territories for any sign of Virgil, Depression, Hood or whoever. We need to be here for these idiots and Thomas. We started this..." Dee opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it as he sensed it was the truth. "... So, let’s make sure this is finished."

 Dee settled comfortably next to Rage and looked between the three open room doors. Each room held a sleeping side. One side had their territory in turmoil due to a migraine headache; another unable to focus and function; and the final one was dealing with the sense of loss and general exhaustion. Rage and Dee sat guard, silently hoping a fourth door would miraculously appear and provide them with some sense of relief. As the minutes turned into hours, it became apparent that that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Dee looked down to where Rage had curled up to sleep and realised how thankful he was to still have Rage at his side. He only wished he could have had Anxiety and Hood there as well. Given recent revelations, he had a lot he wanted to make up for.

 **********************************************************************************

 Terrence stayed with Thomas as he slept, not wanting to leave just in case he woke up in a daze again. Joan floated in and out of the room to respond to and make phone calls. They made sure Thomas' parents were aware of what had happened, and they assured Joan that they were making the right call and would call the next day to check on things. Eventually, Joan switched their phone to ‘do not disturb’ and carefully joined Terrence and Thomas on the bed.

"All good?" whispered Terrence.

"Yeah. For now."

Thomas stirred slightly at the discussion, rolling over calmly and without any sign of pain on his face. Terrence smiled at Joan as the two felt the weight of their worries lift slightly and eventually, they too fell asleep.

Chapter index ----------- Next chapter 

End Note:

This was the chapter that just kept on growing. I felt my initial skeleton plan glossed over way too much, but I hope I didn’t go too far to the other end of the scale and overload it with too much information.

 Off topic note: The Selfishness v. Selflessness video was so good. I love getting more clues on Deceit and seeing his character develop. It is clear he has a message to pass on to Thomas but is still working on being able to deliver that message/lesson. It makes me wonder what else is at play and stopping him from actually talking. Why all the riddles, Deceit? Even Virgil is showing a more hidden past. We knew it was there, but it is now so obvious that he is still holding his cards close to his chest. Given this fic already predicted a fedora phase, and now a (*minor future chapter spoiler*) Twitch Charity stream, could any of the other characters become canon????  I kind of hope not...but only because that would just be way too freaky.

Tags 

@atseipl

[thejilyship]

Unexpected Perks

AN: Alright, I started this yesterday on a whim, and 6.5k words and just over 24 hours later, here we are. I don’t know if you were all excited because I tagged it as an airport au, or a ‘we have to share the last hotel room au’ or if you just prefer one shots to mulit-chaps, but I hope you enjoy. 

wc: 6.5k 

ff.net | ao3 

“No, no, no, no, no, nooooo!” Lily’s heels clicked against the tiles of the terminal as she saw the flashing digital sign that told her that her plane had already pulled away from the boarding zone. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and she felt as though she’d just lost at something. She’d never missed a flight before, she’d always been one of those people who arrived early. Like, enough time to have breakfast, get a coffee and read a couple chapters of whatever novel she had with her, that kind of early.

But do to circumstances that were outside of her control, she’d been late. Very late per her standards, and apparently she’d missed her flight.

She hitched her carry on up her shoulder and squeezed her phone in her other hand. What was she even supposed to do now? Did she have to buy a new ticket? Did she have to wait for a seat to open up on another flight? How was she meant to know what she was supposed to do when she’d never missed a flight before? And apart from that, it wasn’t as though she spent a lot of time flying anywhere. This was probably her sixth time on a plane- or it would have been, had she made the flight.

She saw someone who looked about as flustered as she felt, talking to someone who worked at the airport at a desk right next to where she was supposed to board the plane. She assumed that this man had also missed the flight and headed in that direction. And even if she was wrong, talking to someone from the airport had to be a good first step on the road to fixing things, right?

“So you don’t have another flight going out today?” The man was asking, sounding as though he was trying rather hard not to get upset. And even now, Lily could appreciate that. Because even though they’d missed their flight, it definitely wasn’t this random employee’s fault.  

“I just told you that we didn’t, sir. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Lily walked up and stood directly next to the man, putting an arm on the desk because her bag was heavy and she needed to lean on something. She knew she shouldn’t have worn heels to the airport.

“The plane took of almost fifteen minutes early, and you’re telling me that I’m just going to have to be okay with that?” His hand jumped to his hair and Lily found herself momentarily distracted from her current predicament as she noticed that this trying-not-to-be-angry man who had also missed his flight, was quite fit. And his hair was quite distracting.

But then she registered what he’d said. “Fifteen minutes early!” She repeated, and instead of sounding surprised, she sounded as though she was backing him up, and both people turned too look at her. “Why have a schedule if you’re not going to follow it?” He was doing much better than her at coming across not angry, but in her defense, she did feel as though she’d been cheated. She would have made the flight (possibly) if the plane hadn’t left early.

“Sir, ma’am, I’ve very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. The plane isn’t here anymore and there aren’t anymore flights until tomorrow.”

“I understand that you can’t do anything about the plane being gone, or about us having to wait until tomorrow to get back home, but the plane left early,” The man reiterated, now grouping Lily into the conversation as well. “I think there should be some sort of compensation for that. I mean, you can’t expect us to spend the night here in the airport, can you?”

The woman behind the desk tapped her nails on the counter and pressed her lips together. “No, I suppose not. I’ll call my manager and see if there’s something that I can do.”

“Thank you,” The man said, pushing his glasses up his nose and then he looked over at Lily and smiled at her.

“Of course,” The women picked up the phone and dialed a number. She turned her back to them as she spoke with her manager and Lily allowed herself to relax. So far, this whole ordeal was being taken care of much more easily then she would have thought. Though she still needed to figure out how to get a ticket for tomorrows flight. She couldn’t really afford a second ticket. Not after the spending spree she’d been on the last few days.

“Alright,” The woman turned around with a bright smile on her face, giving Lily the impression that she had good news and that she was happy to have good news. Working at an airport desk, she doubted that she ever had much good news to give. “So there is a conference in town, so our hotel is nearly full, but my manager was able to snag the last of the rooms. I’ve also been authorized to bump the two of you up from business class, to first class for tomorrows flight. I do apologize for the inconvenience.” Lily was smiling even wider, a first-class ticket? And that was just included in all of this? Wonderful.

“Thank you so much,” The man said, and Lily quickly repeated the sentiment.

“Of course,” She looked much less stressed now that she didn’t have disgruntled passengers to deal with.

“I’m sorry that I was so upset when I walked up here.” Lily apologized, not sure if it was warranted or not, but thinking that the lady might appreciate all the same.

“Oh don’t worry about it,” She grinned. Lily heard the sound of a printer, and then she was being handed a new boarding pass. “And here is the information for your room.” She slid another paper toward them. Just one single piece of paper. “Just present that to the front desk and they’ll get you keys and whatnot. Have a great evening!”

“Wait,” Lily narrowed her brow and skimmed over the paper. “This says there’s just one room.”

“Yes,” She smiled, “Our last room at that. We got lucky.”

The man looked at Lily and then at the woman trying to help them. “Alright, but I don’t know this man.” Lily said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

The woman looked back and forth between the two of them, her brow raised. “Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry.”

oOo

“I’m James, by the way.” James said as he slid into the back of a taxi. They had decided to head to the hotel together and see if they couldn’t get it worked out there, since there was clearly nothing more that the woman from the airport could do, and Lily didn’t feel right having her do anymore anyway.

“Lily,” She said, sticking her hand out toward him. The handshake was made slightly awkward by the fact that they were both in the back of a cab, but still, she was once again struck with out fit he was. And his hands were soft and warm.

“Well Lily, this is quite an adventure no? I hope you didn’t have anything too important to get back to in London.” He leaned back against the seat and quickly gave the driver their destination.

“I like to pad my travel dates, so no, nothing too important. My plants will survive one more day without being watered,” She shrugged and then frowned. “Well, probably.” She had a roommate, but Mary was scatterbrained and hardly remembered to feed herself, let alone water Lily’s plants.

James chuckled and started tapping his fingers on his knee. “I’ve never been able to keep plants alive for more than a week.”

Lily smiled and looked over at him. “My thumbs been green since I was little. My grandmum’s doing, really.” She looked out the window for a moment, trying to see if anything around them looked familiar, but she’d only been here a few times, and so nothing did. But with the sky a dreadful shade of grey, everything just seemed so monochromatic. “What about you,” She asked, looking back at him. “Do you have anything important you’ll miss because the plane left early?”

He laughed again, and Lily’s stomach tightened. She quite liked the sound of his laugh. “I mean, my friends will be a bit put out because I did promise them that I’d be back in time to watch tonight’s game with them, but I’m sure they’ll get over it.”

“Tonight’s game?” She raised a brow, wondering if she should somehow know what he was talking about.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “The football match that’s on tonight.”

“Oh,” She clicked her phone on for a moment to check the time. “I don’t really watch much football.”

She looked back at him to find that he was looking at her as though she’d just told him that she didn’t normally wear pants when she went grocery shopping. “What do you mean you don’t want football?”

It was Lily’s turn to laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic. I just mean that I don’t watch much of it.”

“Saying the same thing with different words doesn’t make it better.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll have to take this room if it’s all they have left, just for that.”

Lily shook her head, “I’m not going to just let you have the room. My only other option was to spend the night in the airport, I can’t afford anything else. I spent all my money already.”

James narrowed her brow. “And what exactly did you spend all your money on here in Brussels?”

Lily grinned, “Beer, chocolate and books.”

He smiled back at her, “Alright, good answer.”

“I was here for a literary conference, and I always get carried away when it comes to books. I exceeded my predetermined book budget by… well, by a lot.” He laughed again.

“A literary conference? Are you a writer or something?”

“Or something,” She shrugged one of her shoulders and pursed her lips. “I’ve not been published yet, but I’m hopeful that it’ll happen. Soon.” She looked back at him. “I’ve recently sent something in to a few different publishers.”

“Well that’s brilliant! I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” He said, sounding genuinely happy for her and it made her heart feel fluttery.

“Thanks,” She tried to suppress her grin, but he was very handsome looking at her like he was, and it wasn’t as though she wasn’t already thrilled and terrified with the prospect of getting a letter back from one of the houses.

They pulled up to the hotel and James pulled Lily’s bag out of the boot of the car. She reached for it and he shook his head. “I’ve got it.”

“Well thank you,” She grinned.

“I’m only trying to be a gentleman now so that you won’t be too upset with me when I take the room.”

“I’m not letting you have the room. She wouldn’t have offered the room to you if I hadn’t come over and backed you up.”

The people at the front desk reiterated what the lady at the airport had said and Lily sighed. She was tired, and she didn’t want to worry about all of this nonsense. Without waiting for a response from either James or Lily, soon a pair of key cards were handed to them and they were left to work things out between themselves.

“Maybe the room has two beds,” James said after a moment of silence. “I didn’t really look at the details.”

“I didn’t either,” Lily admitted. “Let’s go and have a look.” Though Lily was starting to wonder what her mother would say if she knew that Lily was debating bunking with a man that she’d only just met less than an hour ago. He was fit, but he was still a stranger.

“If it doesn’t have a second bed, my offer is that I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“And if it doesn’t have a couch?”

“Then I’ll throw a fit for being stuck in a closet room.” He shrugged and she laughed.

“You never told me what you were doing here,” She said as she pressed the elevator button. “And I’m really hoping that it had nothing to do with murder or anything.”

James shook his head and smirked at her. “You caught me. I got the plane to leave early so that I could get you alone.”

“It’s mighty impressive that you were able to buy up all the other rooms in the hotel aside from this one.” She said, playing along.

“Yes well, this plan goes a lot further than you know.” They stepped onto the elevator and he pushed the button for their floor. “Though truthfully, I was visiting my great aunt and my cousin. I’ve only got one cousin, and he’s two decades older than me.” He sounded jilted by this fact and Lily chuckled. “Anyway, my aunt asked me to come out to help her put in a new deck. But that just meant that she wanted me to do it, and I’ve never used power tools before so it was a waste of time in her opinion. I had a good time with Sam though.”

“Your old cousin?”

“Yeah,” He smiled at her again and then the doors opened.

They walked out into the hallway and Lily looked around. “I hate hotel art,” She mused, passing a generic painting of a sailboat. “I mean, why put something on the wall if it’s not worth looking at.”

“Wow, Lily,” James laughed. “Quite a strong opinion on that sailboat. I’m sure someone worked very hard to make it.”

“Sure, but they could have added some color or a story or something.” She chuckled. “I don’t want to just look at a sailboat. I’m not a boat enthusiast.”

“You don’t like football and you don’t like boats, anything else I should know about?”

“I don’t like red wine,” She said, the thought popping into her head as she passed another generic painting of a bottle of wine. She shook her head.

“No red wine?”

“Gives me a headache.” She shrugged. “Unless it’s cherry wine, I do like cherry wine. Still gives me a headache, but I figure it’s worth it because of how delicious it is.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had cherry wine before.”

“Well you’re missing out. Anyway, what did you end up doing with your cousin if you didn’t build a deck?”

“Well first we hired someone else to build the deck,” James grinned, running his hand through his hair. Lily had seen him do that a couple of times and wondered when he’d picked up the tick. “And then he took me to play tennis. My cousin Sam has been playing tennis much longer than I’ve been alive and he was semi-pro for a while so I did not beat him a single time and was a very sore loser about the whole thing.”

“I would have been a sore loser too.” Lily admitted.

“Why, do you normally think you’re good at tennis, like I do?” She laughed and shook her head.

“No, I’m just generally a sore loser about everything- that is to say, I’m very competitive and stubborn so I don’t take defeat well. I felt personally attacked that the plane left early because it felt like cheating.”

James nodded and pulled out his key card as they walked up to the door, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her. “So we should under no circumstances start playing any games that pit the two of us against one another?”

“I’ll crush you heart and soul if we do.” She said, forgetting for a moment that she didn’t really know this person that she was casually trash talking.

James raised his brow, hand frozen on the door handle. Then he started laughing and Lily pressed her lips together, “I’m sorry.” She said, brushing back her hair. “It’s a reflex. A sickness really, I can’t help myself.”

He just laughed some more and pushed open the door. It was still midday so the room was fairly well lit, the back wall of the room being made up almost entirely of windows. There was only one bed in the back corner of the room, and a rather decent sized sitting area with a television on the wall opposite the windows. There was a door that led to a bathroom and a small kitchenet, and while it was modest, it was also one of the nicer hotel rooms that Lily had stayed in.

“Looks like I’ll be on the couch.”

“Yeah, looks like,” Lily agreed, flashing him and grin and he just shook his head and set their bags down on the edge of the couch. She walked over to the windows and looked out at the city. It wasn’t a view of the more historic parts of the city, just intensely metropolitan as it was near the airport, but with snow falling down softly, it had it’s own charm.

Lily unbuttoned her coat and tossed it onto the bed. She was unsure why she was so comfortable to agree to share the room with this stranger, but she still had plenty of time to change her mind if she needed too.

She looked back at James, wondering what he was thinking, if he might be expecting her to back out and let him have the room. Though she had just informed him of how competitive she is, so he shouldn’t be thinking that.

“So, what’s the plan now?” James asked.

“Well, if I hadn’t had all my books checked and sent off on the plane without me, then I’d say that I was going to spend the next twelve hours reading… however, I only have one book and I finished it this morning so I suppose I can’t do that.” There was her phone though. She did have many books saved to her phone. And her laptop was in her carryon bag, she could spend some time writing.

But then she looked up at James again, and bit the inside of her cheek. There was something about this stranger that made him feel as though he wasn’t a stranger, but instead someone that she’d known for quite a while. And she wanted to spend some time with him, strange as it seemed.

“I suppose you can’t. We could go out and get some food though,” He suggested, looking out the window. “I think we’re near a place I’ve been that has good fish sandwiches.” Lily made a face and James smirked. “You don’t like fish?”

“Boats, red wine, football and fish.” She nodded. “But your plan also involved going outside, and look, it just started to snow. We should not go outside.”

“You don’t like the snow either?”

“I do like the snow,” She countered, holding up her hand. “But I didn’t bring a hat, or mittens or proper footwear. Don’t ask me why I wore heels to the airport, but I did and I’m not going to try and walk around the city when there’s fresh snow coming down. I’ll break at least four bones if I do that.”

“Four bones?” He shook his head and let out a low whistled, causing her to laugh. “Alright, I suppose I can’t have you leaving the hotel then, I don’t want to be held responsible for any injury involving three broken bones.”

“Exactly, it’s for my safety. And to make sure you’re not held liable.” She crossed her arms over her chest and then stepped out of her heels, leaving them behind the couch. “We could just order room service and watch trash television.”

He shrugged out of his coat and nodded. “You’re plan sounds good. Relaxing after a day of rushing to the airport only to miss the bloody flight.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know that it’d left early until you said something.” She shook her head. “I just had the worst experience with public transportation of my life, and thought the world was out to get me.”

James walked around to the front of the couch and fell back onto it. “Picky and dramatic, I’m learning all kinds of things about you.” He reached for the remote and clicked the telly on.

“Dramatic was kind of a given, seeing as how I threatened you earlier at the mention of a competition.” He snorted and turned on the guide. Lily had to sit in the middle of the couch since he’d put their things on the end he wasn’t sitting on, and she reached for a menu that they had set out on the coffee table. “What sounds good to you?” She asked, looking over the options. “They have fish sandwiches if that’s what you want.”

“Well we’re in Belgium, so we’ve got to get fries.” He said with a smile that had her heart not quite racing, but it was getting there. Lily had always been a sucker for a good smile, and he had a damn good smile.

“Of course,” She nodded. She’d had Belgium fries before and they were her favorite.

“I kind of want waffles too.” She grinned as he said that, “I didn’t get breakfast this morning.”

“And again, we’re in Belgium, right?” She chuckled and then stood up to find the room phone so that she could put in their order.

“Well, yeah, there’s that too.” He smirked.

She ordered fries, waffles, speculaas, tea and extra whipped cream before coming back to the couch and sitting back down. She pulled her legs up and tucked her feet under her. She wished that she had her checked bag so that she could put on a pair of nice thick socks. It was warm in the room, but there was something about knowing that it was snowing that made her toes think they were cold.

“Alright, what did you mean when you said trash television?” He asked after flipping through the guide.

“I don’t know, something that you can watch for hours without feeling the need to take a break. Something that makes it feel like your brain is going numb.”

“Okay, I don’t want to insult a bunch of shows, but I’m going to tell you what’s on. There’s a marathon of Father Brown on-“

“I love Father Brown!”

He snorted again before continuing, “The Baking Show is on of course, it always is. There’s a Belgian soap opera about an international spy. And then I found some movies as well.” He flicked through the channels for a moment and then read them off. “Home Alone, which I think it’s a bit premature to be showing that since it’s just November. Anyway, Home Alone, The Birds, Robinhood with-“

“Robinhood.” Lily interrupted. James turned to look at her.

“I didn’t tell you which one it is.”

“It’s the one from 1991 with Kevin Costner. It’s the only one they play on tv, and I want to watch it please.” She tilted her head and gave him a cheesy grin.

“You like Kevin Costner?”

“I mean, I like Robinhood, and he’s in Robinhood, so yes.”

“Well alright then, I suppose we’ll be watching Robinhood.”

“Thank you,” She bounced on the couch slightly, drumming her fingers on her leg.

oOo

Their food was mostly gone, but still sitting out on the coffee table for them to pick over. They had stolen blankets from the bed now, because James had said that daytime movies required blankets same as nighttime movies. Lily had whole heartedly agreed, especially since her toes still thought that they were cold.

“So what are you doing while you wait to become a famous author?” He asked, and Lily had to tear her gaze away from the screen. “Something typical of a writer? Coffee shop, bookshop, library?”

“Nah, I’m an assistant for this crazy editor. I mean, there are perks, including the conference I just went to for the last four days, but still, she’s crazy.”

“Is she one of the people reading your manuscript?” He asked, and Lily shook her head.

“No, I managed to get into the field that I love, but not the genre. I mean, I love to read all genres for the most part, but I write fantasy and we publish mystery and romance novels where I work.”

“Romance?” He raised his brow and Lily grinned.

“I read all the ‘scripts that come through before passing them on to my boss, so I have to read some pretty revolting stuff on occasion. I mean, most of the time you can tell what it’s going to be like in the first few pages, but sometimes they surprise you. What about you? What do you do, James?”

“I’m still in school actually. Will be for a while. I’m going to be a doctor.” Lily raised her brow, not sure why that surprised her.

“Really?”

He nodded, “I’ve wanted to be a doctor for quite a while.” He said with a smile. “Since I was three I believe.”

“You’ve wanted to be a doctor your whole life? You’ve never changed your mind?”

“I almost did in uni.” He said. “I played football and I got offered a position on a professional team. That was a hard decision, but I don’t regret it yet.”

“Huh,” She grinned, trying to picture him in a white coat, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. It was rather difficult, because despite the fact that she was watching Robinhood and drinking tea while cozied up with a blanket, she may also have been wondering what James would look like without his shirt on. Trying to picture him with additional clothes on was messing with her.

She wished that she’d had something to drink so that she could blame it on the alcohol. But it wasn’t the alcohol, she was just very attracted to this bloke who she had to keep reminding herself that she didn’t know.

“Well, If I’m being honest, that’s not what I thought that you were going to say.” She reached for her tea and took a sip.

“What did you think I was going to say?” He asked, busying his hand with the hem of the blanket he had on his lap.

“I suppose I don’t really know you well enough to make any kind of guess, but if I were guessing anyway,” She grinned at him as she set her tea back down. “I’d say that you were a...” She pursed her lips as she thought over what professions fit him- or what little she knew about him. He asked for compensation at the airport, and she knew a great number of people who wouldn’t have done that. He didn’t give up the room so that Lily could have it to herself when he found out it was the last one, but instead compromised that he would sleep on the couch without ever asking her if she was alright with that arrangement, he’d just assumed that she’d find a different place to sleep if she wasn’t. He had also been flirting with her all morning and now most of the afternoon, which she was enjoying, though she didn’t know if that would help her work out what job he should have.

“I’d have guessed a lawyer of some kind.” She said after a moment, and James’ chin dropped to his chest.

“Really?” He asked, swinging his head around to look at her.

She shrugged, “That’s not a bad thing, I’m not going off of stereotypical lawyer things. You’re good at arguing and banter, you’re confident. I think you’d make a good lawyer.”

He smiled at her, though he was trying to make it seem like he didn’t want to smile at her. All that did was make Lily smile wider. “Okay, but don’t ever let my mum hear you say anything like that.”

“I do speak with your mum a lot.” She said sarcastically, resting her elbow on the back of the sofa so she was facing James now.

“I just mean that she’s spent her entire life telling me that I’d make a good lawyer.”

“She’s a lawyer then?” Lily grinned.

“And dad started off that way too.” He nodded. “They're both ridiculously supportive with my career choice of course, but they both thought that I’d follow in their footsteps.”

“Because you have the make of a good lawyer or the genes?”

“Both really,” He chuckled and glanced back at the screen. Lily was aware that this was the least she’d paid attention to a Robinhood movie. Ever.

OOo

They’d finished Robinhood, and Lily, being the understanding and accommodating person that she was, allowed James to choose between two films that she loved equally and couldn’t decide herself. And then he’d chosen correctly, so she didn’t need to argue that they should watch the other one (because as soon as you let someone else decide between two things you say you like equally, you’re quick to work out which one you actually like more.)

“When did you graduate?” James asked her as the opening credits started going over as an upbeat song from the eighties started playing.

“A couple years ago. I got my degrees in Classic Literature and English. You?”

“Well I’ve been in medical school for a year and a half now.”

“And you’re not dead!” Lily smiled at him. “My roommate Mary is in med school too.”

He laughed and set his hand on her knee, “No, I’m not dead. And condolences for your friend.”

Lily smiled and shook her head. “I do miss her. I mean, I currently live with her, and I still feel like I never see her.” She looked at his hand on her knee and wondered when they’d gotten so close to one another. Her knees were touching the side of his legs now. They hadn’t been like that when they were eating. Did she move closer, or was he moving closer? She’d gotten up to use the loo a few minutes ago, maybe she’d done this when she’d sat back down.

Whoever had done it, she wasn’t upset about it.

She looked back up at him, and he had definitely been watching her face as she’d looked at his hand on her leg. “Why do you think that lady at the airport thought we were together?” She asked, because she was curious about what he would say, and she sort of wanted to put the idea in his head.

He kept his hand on her leg and looked at the telly for a moment. “I don’t know.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose it’s because you just walked up and stood next to me and started agreeing with me. Also, I think our original tickets were seated next to one another.”

“Oh,” Lily grinned. “So, if we hadn’t missed the flight, I would have met you anyway.” That idea made her heart flutter again. She’d always been a bit of a romantic, and hearing it put that way made it seem like fate. She was supposed to meet James today. “Perhaps that’s why I had such a hard time getting to the airport this morning.” She mused aloud.

He looked over at her, a smile that could almost be described as ‘shy’ spread over his face. “What does that mean?”

She looked back as his hand on her knee and reached up to put her own hand on top of his. “Are you going to make fun of me if I tell you that I’m starting to believe that we were supposed to meet each other?”

He slowly turned his hand around and laced their fingers together. “I don’t think so. What did you say stopped you from getting there on time? A late bus, a track fire and an angry TSA agent at security? That’s an awful lot of obstacles for it all to be a coincidence.”

“I agree.” She nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “And to top it all off, there was only one room left in the hotel.” It felt like it meant something.

“You feel familiar too.” He added, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking at their hands.

“Familiar,” She nodded. “That’s a good word for it. I mean, under normal circumstances I would never willingly spend time alone with a complete stranger.”

He grinned up at her. “Don’t like meeting new people?”

“New people are fine, but I told you that I’m not keen on being murdered- not outright, but I did imply it.” She scooted a bit closer to him, wondering if he’d think her too forward if she just curled up against his chest. That would be weird, right? Maybe. But maybe not.

“That’s right, you did tell me that you didn’t want me to murder you.” He nodded as though he were being serious about the whole thing and then chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only sometimes.” She shrugged. “You do live in London, yes?”

“I do,” He nodded.

“Good. You should give me your phone.”

He leaned back against the couch, so he could reach into his pocket and she grinned when he handed it to her unlocked. She sent herself a text and saved her name with a football, sailboat and wine bottle emojis next to it.

She handed it back and he spun the phone around in his hand. “Perfect.” He then leaned back again to put his phone in his pocket and when he went to sit upright again, he wrapped his arm around her and she got to curl up next to him. A big stupid smile on her face.

oOo

“Hey, Lily?” James tugged lightly at a strand of hair that he’d been playing with and she narrowed her brow and looked up at him.

“What?”

“Why did you text yourself ‘James who should have been a lawyer?’” And she laughed.

“Well I didn’t know that you were going to pull my hair when you saw it.” She pulled blanket up further and leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“I do like all the emojis next to your name. Though you missed a few.”

“There isn’t a good way to transcribe hotel art with emojis.”

“I was thinking of the fish.”

“Ah, right.” She nodded.

oOo

He talked her into going to the hotel restaurant for dinner. Saying some such nonsense about having to treat her to dinner since it’s what the universe wanted. He sounded as though he was joking, but she was pretty sure that he was as convinced as she was that their meeting had been… well it wasn’t accidental, whatever it was. Too many things had lined up perfectly.

While at dinner, he’d gone out of his way to be a gentleman, and Lily had made a joke about how he was still going to have to sleep on the couch, and he’d said ‘Well, if it’s all a lost cause…” And then he took the last breadstick that Lily had been reaching for. She’d laughed, and then taken it from him when he wasn’t expecting it.

The entire day had felt like a date somehow, but this obviously was. And even though it was a first date, and Lily had never been on a first date without bringing a stick of deodorant in her purse (yes, she got the nervous sweats even when she wasn’t super into a bloke) she didn’t feel nervous once. She had butterflies in her stomach when he shot her that smile of his, and she felt her heart flutter whenever his flirting got more romantic than playful, and while she kept waiting for her nerves to show, they didn’t. If she wanted to reach for his hand, she did. If she wanted to nudge her knee against his under the table, she did. It felt as though the uncertainty just wasn’t there.

They walked back to their room after dinner, hand in hand, and Lily laughed as they stepped out of the elevator.

“What’s so funny?” James asked, looking around the wall in front of him. “Did the sailboat do something to offend you?”

“No, you prat.” She shook her head. “I just realized how ridiculous all of this seems. I mean, if someone had told me how today would go….” She sighed and squeezed his hand.

“I wouldn’t have believed it either.” He said.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have believed any of it. Especially that part about me missing my flight.” James laughed at her and she bit her bottom lip as she looked up at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. “Wait,”

He raised his brow and looked at her. She moved so she was standing in front of him.

“Can we pretend for a moment that we’re not in this really weird situation?” He chuckled and waited for her to continue. “I mean, I’m really glad that I met you today, and that I got to spend the whole day with you watching movies and eating hotel food, honestly and truly I wouldn’t trade it for, I don’t know, running into one another in the grocery or meeting at a pub or something, but there is just one thing that I’d like after our very nice dinner date.”

He took a step closer to her and moved his hand that was still holding the key card, to her hip. He looked off to the side as though he was trying to work out what she meant, and she swotted him on the arm. He looked back at her, smiling, and she felt part of her melting. “A goodnight kiss?” He asked, his voice getting a bit lower and causing Lily’s heart to jump up to her throat.

“Yeah,” She nodded slowly, her hands going to rest on his arms, slowly pushing upward.

“I’d like that too.” They were toe-to-toe now and she didn’t know if she’d stepped forward or if he had again, not that it mattered, it was all semantics really. This too was supposed to happen, she could feel it.

When he closed the distance between the two of them, she was not disappointed. Her arms quickly wrapped around his neck as she stood up on her tiptoes, not having realized just how much taller he was than her. His arms snaked around her middle and he pulled her closer as well. It was slow, and sweet and a perfect first kiss.

When he pulled back, she let herself fall back onto the heels of her feet. When she opened her eyes, he was all but beaming down at her and it felt as though her heart might just be cracking open to make more room for all this feeling.

“I’m really glad that we met this way too,” He said after a moment of the two of them just smiling at one another.

“Good. It’s going to be a pretty great story.”

James nodded as he reached over and unlocked the door. He pecked her lips once more before detangling himself from her, making sure to grab her hand before he pushed open the door and led her inside. “I can’t wait to tell our kids.” He said, his tone completely casual.

Lily pressed her lips together and tried to keep calm at the mention of the two of them having that kind of future together.

How had she only known him for one day? 

[mythomagically-delicious]

The Night Waves, the Stars Talk, the Years Alone Know

“How did you do it?” Ford asked. Something about his tone made it clear to Stan it wasn’t an idle question. It wasn’t an offhand remark like the hundreds he’s gotten over the years. It wasn’t the rhetorical awe Soos or the kids sometimes gave him. It wasn’t even the admiration and frustration from one genius to another (hey—criminal genius is still genius, right?) It was asked in a low, clear voice.

No accusation, no awe, no admiration. Just a simple question, one brother to another. With an undercurrent of sadness that resonated deep within Stanley’s bones.

He knew exactly what Ford was referring to the moment he asked. He considered playing dumb, but he knew Ford no longer fell for that—not with him.

“Stanley?” Ford asked again, slight worry creeping into his tone. Stan sighed and turned to face his brother. The cool night air swayed their hair with the breeze, but nothing else was moving. It was a still night, cloudless, perfect for watching the stars. And telling a dead man’s story, apparently, Stan thought.

“Inside,” was all Stan said, turning to duck into the cabin and make himself a cup of hot chocolate before plunging into the story. (What could Stan say? Mabel had ruined him for coffee, it had to be hot chocolate now).

Ford followed silently into the galley and fixed his own cup of hot drink before they sat across the table from each other. Stan against the wall, Ford facing him. Stan sat a moment longer, rearranging his thoughts before beginning.

“From the moment after, or from the funeral on?” he asked, wanting to be absolutely sure what Ford thought he wanted to know.

“All of it,” Ford replied simply, leaning forward slightly, twelve fingers wrapped around his mug. Stan sighed but began.

“It took me three weeks to run out of food. Half of it was thrown up during those three weeks, from mold or being sick over what I’d done to you, or both. I went to town and was inspired to create the Murder Hut.”

Stan didn’t describe how there was only enough food for ten days, and the other eleven he starved himself to make it last longer. How he could barely stand when he went to town that first time. How he passed out from exhaustion after the first tour and didn’t wake up for two days, and when he ate he gorged himself on meat from a can and slices of bread until he made himself sick again.

Stan put a hand to his stomach and winced at remembering the pain of that first month. “It was…brutal,” was all he said about it. Ford looked like he wanted to argue for details, but was wise enough (for once) not to.

“I became Stanford Pines. It was easy with the townsfolk to recreate you, not enough of them had ever seen or met you enough to ask the wrong questions.”

Except Boyish Dan, and he had enough on his plate, and he wasn’t the questioning type anyway. Stan paused, thinking over how easy it was to become Stanford Pines to the people of Gravity Falls. (Too easy).

“But there was a problem. I knew that as long as Stanley was still alive, he was a danger to Stanford. I had to fake my own death to truly become Stanford Pines,” Stan continued. He had needed to fully become his brother—a man with a past with no strings attached, no mistakes to run from except for a mistake of a brother.

Stan got a bitter look on his face at that thought, and Ford seemed to be on the verge of interrupting to ask about it, but the moment passed and Stan’s features evened out as he continued talking.

“When I’d been quickly setting up the house to do a tour, I’d stumbled onto what your freaky copier did.”

Stan had a small smile on his face at that. He’d accidentally copied his arm and watched it crawl around in horror until he threw up on it, and watched it melt away into the carpet. All he’d had to clean up was printer ink and bile.

“I rigged it up to be able to scan all of me at once, then copied myself. It was a perfect match.”

Stan stopped, his throat choking on the emotion it needed to let out. The first time he’d seen his clone his legs had given out. And Stan 2 had understood completely why. Stan 2 helped him up, brought him over to a chair, and sat him down.

‘Look, bud, we both know why I’m here,’ his clone had said. ‘Let’s not go getting attached to the disposable twin, huh?’

Stanley had shook himself and nodded, standing up brusquely and saying a quick thanks. Together they’d rented a car and rigged it so Stan 2 would go down in a fiery crash, car flying off the road and into a lake, where the body would have been eaten up by the time the cops found it. But making sure to leave sufficient ID behind, like the car in Stanley’s name, and his first ID card with his real name.

It had been hard to kill himself off. But Stan didn’t waste any tears over it. He let the clone stick around long enough to bandage up his shoulder, and comb through the house for any usable papers on the portal. Stanley killed himself five weeks after the accident. Stan 2 wished him luck, and to copy again if he needed help.

“Stan 2 and I rented a car from Portland and rigged it to crash and burn in the woods near Gravity Falls. Registered in my name, I effectively killed off Stanley Pines. Just to be sure the news would spread down South to some old enemies of mine, I bribed a few reporters with my first wad of cash from the tours into making that wreck big news a few states around, so if anyone came looking, all they’d find was a dead body.”

Ford nodded, the sadness still in his eyes, but highlighted by an expectancy. This was the part he’d been waiting for, after all. What came next.

Stan took a drink of his cooled hot chocolate and cast his mind back.

“Ma called you about two months after I’d pushed you in. It had been two weeks since I’d faked my own death. She was crying. She’d heard the news of Stanley’s death, when she’d been looking for where I’d last been heard of. She said Stanley had wrecked not far from your house, did I know anything about it? Had I seen you? Had Lee finally reached out to me like he’s been trying to?” Stan paused and spat over the table into the trash.

“I’d decided on my reaction should any family come knocking the day Stanley died. I told the truth.”

Ford looked confused, about to verbalize his question when Stan cut in again.

“I told the truth. When Ma asked me about her ‘little Lee’s’ death I told her Yes, I’d heard. He’d come to see me at my request the week before it happened. We talked, we argued, he was just as much of a screw up as before. I tried giving him a chance and he blew it again. I kicked him out and I don’t care what happened to him. He deserved what he got. He ruined my life. Why should he get to live his?”

Ford’s jaw dropped in horror. Besides that he was frozen, unable to move even if he wanted.

“Ma yelled at me through her sobbing for being a self-righteous fool just like Pa. For being so convinced of my own rightness and setbacks that I never stopped to consider what I’d put poor Stanley through all those years. Then she yelled back every piece of news she’d managed to pry from Stanley and surrounding newspapers during those ten years. I listened to all of it, laughing at how she didn’t even know the half of it.

I told her ‘I knew enough. Stanley deserved what he got, and I’m not sorry he’s dead.’ Just before I hung up she told me I would, someday. But until I regretted your death, Ma said we weren’t family anymore.”

Stan had killed two birds with one stone. (Not three, Ford’s not dead, he can’t be dead, I have to get him back). His family wouldn’t be calling any time soon, and he wouldn’t have to fake being Ford to them. No chance to be caught out and taken away from the Shack, that way. No more family to disappoint.

Ford broke his frozen spell and stood up pacing, equal parts outraged and horrified. “You said all that? To Ma? Were you insane?! Why?”

Stan got a sick, humorless grin on his face as he answered, grumbling out his words. “Because I meant every word. I was a screw up and I deserved it. Stanley deserved it. He ruined everything, Ford!” Stan stood up and yelled that, shocking Ford out of his pacing into stillness once more. Stan continued his tirade.

“Stanley was a good for nothing criminal. He didn’t even graduate high school! He went from one shitty job to another, barely scraping by, just trying to survive and eat maybe three days out of seven. Every night going to sleep in his car, freezing, wishing he knew how to make it up to Stanford! Wishing he could go home! Wishing he’d never been fucking born! Stanley was a screw up who deserved everything he had coming. He didn’t deserve a home, he didn’t deserve a family, and he definitely did not deserve life!” Stan pounded the table and it rattled the two long forgotten mugs. Breathing heavily, he slowly eased back into a sitting position. He waited for Ford to do the same.

(It took about ten minutes, but eventually Ford was able to make eye contact with Stan again and sit down. The entire time Ford curled and uncurled his fingers into fists, flexing them out, and curling again. He was just trying to work through all of the information Stan had given him without exploding. There was still more to the story, after all.)

“I didn’t talk to Ma again until 1988. Pa died, stroke. Shermie called and I felt like I had to go, to make sure he was really dead.”

“I showed up in New Jersey, a band-aid over half my face, gloves on. Pretended to have a little accident so no one would ask too many questions about me looking different…if they even remembered.” Stan gave a little sigh at that but continued on. At the time he’d been conflicted enough about his family not recognizing the differences, it was better not to dwell on it again after all these years had passed.

“I met Shermie at the door. He’s nine years older than us, Ford. But he may as well have been ninety years older for all that I knew him. He and Reb had Sam by then, of course. Sam was 16.” So much time, Stan thought. He’d missed so much time with his family, his nephew already a young man. Not even recognizing Shermie when his brother had greeted him at the door to what used to be Pine’s Pawns. Then it was mostly boxed up with a “Space for Rent” sign in the corner of the shop window. He didn’t tell Ford how he’d felt tears gathering at the back of his eyes just by seeing them again.

“Shermie made a beeline for me and asked if I regretted it yet. He inherited Pa’s straight-talking, let me tell you. No ‘hi, hello, how are ya Stanford?’” Stan looked up at the cabin’s ceiling and felt his throat choking him again.

“I meant every word, Ford. But I also hated every word. I hugged Shermie and cried, not even blaming it on the dust, saying I missed my brothers so, so much.”

Stan tried to laugh but it got caught in his throat with the rest of the emotion he was suppressing.

“Shermie didn’t know what to do. He hugged me back—he may have had Pa’s style of speaking, but he was warmer than that bastard ever was—and Reb patted my shoulder. They both tried calming me down, but I—uh, I was working myself into a state, to be honest. I hadn’t cried about losing you and the rest of the family in the same month, again, since it had happened. When Ma realized I was there she appeared, looking old and tired, but not especially sad.”

Ma had approached him, looking her son over as she came forward, drawing whatever conclusions she did, standing close enough to reach out and touch, but refusing to until she asked her question, chin jutting up in that familiar way Stan saw as a front for having herself together. Stan used a similar tactic when he was on the streets. It takes a con to know one.

“She asked if I regretted it yet. I latched onto her and repeated myself over and over again, “He’s gone, he’s gone, Lee’s gone, Ma, he’s gone!” until I ran out of breath. Sam ran and grabbed a box of tissues, discreetly throwing them onto the table next to us. That kid has the biggest heart, Ford, I tell ya. Those kids got it all from him.” Stan smiled at thinking about Samuel as he’d come to know him later, and how Mabel and Dipper were just the same way. Then sobered as he recalled the next part of the story.

“Ma hugged me back and shushed me like a child. She said, ‘It’s going to be alright, Stanford, it’s going to be okay,’ and I cried harder. Nothing was okay, my brother, my twin, my only friend was gone, he’s gone and I might as well have killed him myself. And I couldn’t even tell them to grieve for you instead.”

Stan’s breath hitched unevenly throughout his telling. Ford leaned forward and settled a hand on his arm, trying to steady Stan back. After a minute or so he removed his hand, and Stan continued on.

“There was a lot of grieving that day. None of it for Pa. That was also the day I asked them to call me Stan instead of Stanford or Ford. Ma, bless her soul, agreed right away. Shermie took some time convincing. He still calls me Stanford. I got to know Sam that day pretty well. Reb brought up stories of you watching him as a child, babysitting senior year after Stanley left. Reb said a lot of things I hadn’t known.” At that Stan gave Ford a pointed look that made Ford scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ford didn’t look ready to talk about why he’d suddenly spent every second not at school with a two year old, but Stan picked up enough to guess. The brothers let the moment slide past them together, ready to ignore what they had already resolved between them, no time to let apologies taint the story-telling air Stan brought to the small cabin.

Stan mentally searched for where he had left off. “I stayed in better touch with everybody after that. Nothing more than maybe a couple calls a year, but still. There were a few rough patches with even that. Don’t ask.” Stan’s tone brooked no argument on the matter, before he continued.

“What I said in the basement was true. I spent my days split between learning all your math and science junk, and selling tourists on the fake supernatural. I spent my nights toiling away in the portal room. And every spare second between that I was out in the forest and town, searching for your dumb journals.”

Stan felt a chill shudder through him. Those were the longest nights of his life. He hadn’t known it would be a labor of over 30 years when he started. He had no hope of learning all the math so quickly, but he didn’t think it would take forever, either. As the months wore on, he had felt more and more like a failure. Like he was letting Ford down.

At the mark of the first year since Ford had been pushed in, he’d let the hopelessness take him over. Then he got up the next day and worked twice as hard, renewing his efforts. Desperation colored the first five years, possibly the worst years. He had to acquire so many permits to run a legitimate shop. He had so many bills to pay. He had so much to learn about math and science. He struggled over every single sentence in every single text book in Ford’s house.

Frustration colored the first ten years, in the shack. He wasn’t sure at what point he began referring to it as his house, and not Ford’s, but it made him feel like even more of an imposter, trying to take over more of his brother’s life than he needed to. As often as he could, he made journeys out to search for the journals. Every time he came back empty-handed, splattered in dirt and drenched in sweat, the hopelessness dragged him a bit further down. He’d place his five-fingered hand over the six-fingered hand of Journal 1 and talk out his frustrations to Ford, as if his brother were there, not lost.

He clung to the thinnest lines binding him to the portal, though. He grew to know bits and pieces more over time about what he was dealing with. Deciphering the codes in all of his brother’s work, finding strange gadgets and trying not to mess everything up too bad. He could read Caesar and Atbash in his sleep. The alpha-numeric codes? Easy as pie. But it brought him no closer to his brother. He kept up with his studying, trying to understand the bare bones of the machine so he could get it working again. It wasn’t until somewhere in his second decade of work that he managed to map out the entire machine. And even that took a solid year to do. So much of it was guess work, with no way to check his assumptions.

On the each anniversary of the portal, he drank himself into a stupor. He knew it was stupid, that it wouldn’t help Ford a lick if he got himself trashed. But the guilt clawed at him the worst leading up to that day. He couldn’t stand it. He—

“Stanley,” Ford said gently, bringing his hands up to cover where Stan was gripping his cold mug. Stan realized he hadn’t spoken in a while, getting lost in his thoughts once again.

“Heh, right. Sorry, Sixer. Where was I?” Stan laughed awkwardly, wanting to move away, but also needing the comfort of Ford, physically in front of him, grounding him to the moment. Ford was back, his brother was back. The pain of those thirty years lifted a little more off his shoulders when he remembered that.

“You were saying something about the Mystery Shack, science, and my dumb journals?” Ford said with a small smile, hoping for his brother to pull out of his low mood.

Stan gave a small chuckle back, more genuine this time, and answered. “Right, right. Thanks, Ford.”

“Anytime.” Ford withdrew his hands and leaned back to his seat, giving Stan room to speak again.

“I guess this goes back to your first question. How’d I do it? Heh, well. Hope is a real son of a bitch, you know?” Stan asked, rhetorically. Ford nodded slowly anyway, and Stan continued on. “I mean, it’s a cruel thing to hold onto. Hope I can do something right. Hope I can fix my mistakes. Hope I can get you back. It’s a hard thing to hang a hat on, you know? So I didn’t hope. I just worked. Every day. Didn’t let myself dive into what-ifs too often. Drank myself to sleep every year on the anniversary. Tried to remember everything about you I could, tried to keep everything in perspective as yours, so I wouldn’t forget to be careful. I lived and I worked and I didn’t hope for anything, much.”

Stan took a slow breath, exhaling heavily, giving his brother an appraising look. “It’s no secret that despite the comfy years I spent in this dimension, you aged better. I nearly worked myself to death. And the years I spent out on my own, before that…”Stan looked away from Ford, training his eyes on the wall behind his brother but not really seeing. “Well, those years didn’t help either.”

Stan felt hands around his and squeezing once more. He allowed his eyes to focus back on his brother’s concerned (and somewhat guilty looking) features.

“Aw, hey Poindexter, don’t get that look. It wasn’t your fault. I’m getting sidetracked. Did I miss anything in your question?”

Ford’s face turned contemplative instead of guilty (to Stan’s relief – he hated causing his brother more pain on his account. The memory lapses and injuries on the high seas were bad enough. Bringing up the years they were forcefully separated by their own idiocy was still sore, and Stan hated dredging those up as much as Ford did).

Ford nodded slowly before he spoke, eyes refocusing to meet Stan’s own. He withdrew his hands and folded them before him on the table. “I appreciate your honesty, Stan. I know you didn’t tell me everything. But I think I understand what you didn’t say.” Stan saw a flash in Ford’s eyes, and he felt he knew exactly what Ford meant. They’d both had hard lives. He was sure Stanford could extrapolate a lot more about his years in Gravity Falls than Stan could about time in the portal.

“But you didn’t tell me the best part,” Ford continued on. This made Stan cock his head in confusion, an eyebrow raising and leaning back in his seat by the wall.

“What would that be, Sixer?”

Ford grinned. “You didn’t tell me about the best part of your years. Meeting Soos, for example.”

Stan shook his head. “Nah, those aren’t stories that go together, Poindexter. ‘How I did it’ was nowhere close to how he came into my life. Talking about Soos or Wendy belongs to a night of good memories.”

Ford drummed a quick one-two-three-four-five-six on the table before replying with, “Alright, another time then.”

For a moment the table was silent. Stan felt there was something else Ford was itching to say, working together the sentences in his mind before speaking out loud. Trying to make sure he didn’t say the wrong thing, like so many fights have been started in the past. Stan started to tense up just imagining what Ford would say.

“Do you think…that is to say, do you still believe what you said about yourself?”

Ford didn’t need to clarify. Stan had yelled loud enough to bring the boat down. Maybe all those years ago he’d been trying to sound like Ford, like Filbrick, how they would react to his death. But Stan kept those words next to him for forty years. They wormed into everything he did. They defined how he saw himself, how he decided to present himself to others. A liar, a worthless nobody, an imposter, riding on his brother’s coattails. Living in his brother’s house, the “better twin” still alive while Stanley burned away into nothing.

Stan believed all of that for so long…

Sometimes he still did.

Soos could act like he hung the sun in the sky, but that was only a crack in a shell with so many layers, even Stan couldn’t remember what was at his core. Meeting and caring for Dipper and Mabel broke down more walls in himself. Demolished him. He’d never cared for anything like he did for them, except for Stanford and look where that got my brother, Stan had thought at the time.

Those thoughts didn’t go away overnight. Well, Stan supposes they did, for a bit there. With the memory gun business. It was some of the first sensations to come back, after the initial flood of memories returning, sitting in his chair, surrounded by family. After the kids had gone up to bed, and Soos had gone home and Ford had disappeared for a moment, Stan had sat and thought over everything they had told him about his life. And as much love as he felt, there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that grew larger, saying he didn’t deserve that love. He hadn’t earned it yet. He wasn’t worth the time they were spending on him.

Stan had ignored those thoughts, sure they were just typical-person doubts and insecurities, heightened by his amnesiac state. But as more memories flowed in, he remembered why he wasn’t worth as much as his family told him. He’d wanted to draw away, afraid he’d ruin everything if he stayed the focus. But the kids hadn’t let him. Ford hadn’t let him. They came back to him every day, finding different ways to help and show love.

The thoughts didn’t go away completely. They got muffled and blurred out by his family.

But sometimes it wasn’t enough. Stan knew he still held all of those things close to him, the fear that Ford will change his mind, that he will leave him behind again. But he didn’t believe them like he used to. While Stan struggled to answer Ford, he felt his hands clenching and unclenching into fists, nails dragging alone the wooden table.

He looked up to his brother’s face and watched as sadness and pain at the distance they’d forced between them for years swallowed his features. He ordered his thoughts and found his voice enough to answer the question.

“Sometimes. It comes and goes.” His voice was rougher than he would’ve liked. A side-effect of not allowing himself to cry all night as he thought over his life. Even then, the thoughts started swallowing him, telling him don’t be weak, real men don’t cry, be more like your brother and Stan put his head into his hands to avoid looking at Ford for one second longer.

“Stanley,” Ford’s voice was small, but Stan couldn’t look at him. He shook his head where it was hiding between his fingers and didn’t look up, even as he heard his brother’s chair scrape back and his boots land softly and the wood of the bench creak as his brother sat beside him.

“Heh, sorry Sixer, it’s uh, the night’s really getting to me, I guess. Sorry to get weepy on ya.” Stan said, trying to make a joke, failing miserably as he sniffles through his apology, hating how weak he feels against it. Stan felt Ford put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into a side hug. A six fingered hand rubbing soothing circles on his arm even as Stan still refused to look up.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Stan.”

They lapsed into silence once more as Stan calmed down, huddled against Ford who stayed steady beside him, occasionally saying shh and rubbing his arm. Stan was embarrassed, but Ford quietly reassured him there was nothing to be sorry for. Finally Stan looked up from his hands, eyes ringed red and dirty tear tracks on his face. He looked to Ford and saw how gentle his brother looked, like all he wanted to do was help Stan. It made Stan feel a bit more like he wasn’t worth the bother, but he shoved that thought down as his brother spoke once more.

“Stan, may I ask you to share one more thing, tonight?”

Stan thought about everything he’d said up to this point. He guessed topping it off wouldn’t hurt, not when Ford’s seen him at his most pathetic as it is.

“Sure, Sixer. Ask away. I ain’t got much else to lose, tonight.”

Ford leaned away so he could look Stan in the eyes, the arm that had been wrapped around Stan’s shoulders now just holding onto the nearest one.

“Stan, next time any of those thoughts come to you…will you let me know? I don’t,” Ford cleared his throat, and Stan recognized the red tinge around his brother’s eyes as the same emotion that’s been trying to escape his own throat all night, “I don’t want you to suffer through those alone. I know…” Stan saw Ford’s focus shift off from his eyes to the wall just behind him. “I know how devastating those thoughts are, Stanley. I don’t want you to go through that alone, not anymore. Will you do it?”

Stan felt Ford’s eyes return and make eye contact once again, a squeeze from the hand gripping his shoulder to reaffirm his request. Stan flattened his lips and lowered his gaze, thinking. Ford’s initial question came back to him, and a new answer took shape in his mind.

How did I do it? I did it alone. That’s what Stan thought. The answer he hadn’t realized was threading its way through all the bits and pieces of stories he’d told that night. Bitterly, bitingly alone. That’s how he’s always dealt with what life handed him. He’d always been alone. He could barely remember the days he had somebody to talk to, the overwhelming isolation of the last forty years far overshadowing his childhood and the last couple of months.

Ford offered him a reprieve from that loneliness, to have someone to fall back on when the days came and the words ate at him, tearing him down. All those thoughts that have been clawing at him for decades. His brother offered to take that on with him, to make sure he didn’t do it alone, this time around. But that’s how I’ve always done it, Stan thought to himself. That’s how he had to deal with being kicked out at seventeen. That’s how he had to deal with pushing his brother into another dimension. That’s how he had to deal with working on the portal for thirty years. That’s how he had to deal with every single hardship in his life, and those thoughts were no different.

Stan felt the weight of those forty years, alone, weigh on him. He bowed his head again, turning to the side and staring at the wood grains in the table. How do I even begin to learn how not to do this alone? He wondered. How do I—

“Stanley?”

Stan looked up and met Ford’s eyes once more. He’d shut down into his own mind again. He was overthinking, just like he always teased Ford for doing. But this time the problem wasn’t a strange anomaly or a math formula. It was his own messed up head. For a second Stan was tempted to push off the hand on his shoulder and walk away.

He’d come this far on his own, did he really need the help now?

But Stan knew he couldn’t do that. He probably couldn’t survive that. Not again.

“Hey, Ford?” Stan asked, as if Ford wasn’t waiting for his reply, as if his brother hasn’t been hanging on his every facial expression since he’d interrupted his night of staring at the stars.

“Yes, Stan?”

“I’m having those thoughts.”

Stan saw Ford’s lips tremble for a second before he felt himself drawn into a hug, head tucked below his brother’s chin, his glasses awkwardly smooshed against his face. He felt the plastic digging into his cheek but he didn’t care. Ford was grounding him back to the present, asking how he could help, telling him he is worth so much, he is loved so much, he has never been a burden. How he doesn’t have to do it alone anymore. As if Ford had somehow read his mind and knew exactly what Stan hadn’t said.

Stan had thought he’d spend the evening telling a dead man’s tale. It turns out it was a lonely man’s story instead. And he thanked every lucky star that now he didn’t have to be alone. That he had his brother back, that even if the past can’t be erased, it can be dealt with and moved on from. The questions of how did you do it becoming less important than the questions of how can I help?

They talked until the stars disappeared and faced the new day together.

[crystaiskiess]

An Angel in Hell (or the front office)

Part of the Our Photo Album series - does not need to be read in order but is recommended Series Masterlist

AO3 Link 

Summary: “Dan?” Phil questioned and Dan’s snapped out of his fantasy, turning a deep shade of scarlet as he realised he had been caught staring. “P-pardon, sorry?” He stammered and Phil smirked slightly, cheeks still heavily flushed but more relaxed than before.

Also known as The teacher and receptionist au series that literally nobody wanted but I'm writing anyway

Author’s Notes: Welcome! To this crazy series that I basically started for self indulgent purposes (I wanted to write fluff damn it!) and decided to post it anyway. It's going to be completely out of order so welcome to the crazy journey of teacher dan, who literally just wants to kiss the cute receptionist (guess who) phil. So I hope you enjoy the first story in this series, please let me know what you think!

I would adore to receive requests for this series because seriously I'm not smart enough to come up with enough ideas on my own so if you have something you want to happen in this universe please please please please (I'm so annoying) PLEASE send in a request it would make my day!

The first day at a new school was always terrifying Dan decided, it was terrifying when he was a student and it was just as mind numbingly scary as a teacher. Even when you were working at the school students would stare at you as though you were an alien. He gently brushed aside his messy curls and inhaled deeply through his nose, stepping into the office building and naturally receiving a lot of weird looks. “Hello!” A bright voice echoed through the room and Dan started in shock, nearly elbowing a child in the head as he did so.

There sitting at the reception desk wearing a quirky smile was, what could only be described as, an angel, Dan felt his heart skip a couple of beats as the receptionist brushed his black hair out of his eyes. “You must be the new teacher?” The receptionist, Phil his name tag read, cocked his head to the side, it wasn’t patronising, but curious and it made Dan’s heart flip in a way he didn’t think was possible. Dan felt himself nod sharply as though on reflex, his brain muddled by the intense blue of the other boy’s eyes. “I’m Dan,” he managed to blabber.

Phil smiled and it made his whole face light up, Dan felt the same strange flutter in his chest, like a wild animal was trying to escape his insides but instead released a horde of butterflies. “Phil,” the receptionist said as he pointed to the name tag, displayed on his chest, “Do you need your timetable and classes?” He asked and Dan nodded awkwardly. He watched as Phil scooted himself closer to the computer, brilliant blue eyes dancing towards the computer, “And what’s your last name Dan?” The way Phil said his name made shivers run down Dan’s spine. “H-howell,” he spluttered and quickly chastised himself for being so awkward, but Phil merely grinned and nodded, pale lanky fingers skittering across the keyboard expertly.

With a few more clicks Dan heard the printer whirl to life, and suddenly those bright blue skies were focused back on him, “So what brings you to Lanbourne High?” Phil’s lilting voice asked and wow Dan didn’t know you could get a crush so quickly but here he was. It took him a few deep breaths to find his voice, and he could feel a blush colour his cheeks, Phil didn’t seem to mind, staring at Dan as though he had all the time in the world, “I love teaching,” Dan shrugged and Phil nodded as though this perfectly simple answer needed the ridiculous amount of time Dan had taken thinking of it. “I get that,” he replied with a beam that melted Dan’s insides and made his knees shake.

Before Dan could embarrass himself by collapsing he choked out, “What about you?” Phil’s eyes widened slightly, as though he wasn’t used to receiving attention back, only giving. Dan watched as his mouth opened and closed ever so slightly, only just enough that Dan could see it before he replied, “This isn’t exactly what I was dreaming for in life, but it’s nice to meet people…” he trailed off, and Dan was left wishing he could know what Phil had dreamt, once upon a time. Eventually Phil broke the comfortable silence between them, “You don’t have a photo in your file,” he said, colour brushing along his cheekbones, in an entirely too endearing way. “Oh,” Dan heard himself mumble and quickly added, “Do I need one?” Judging by the red that was creeping up Phil’s neck and the awkward cough he gave in response, the answer was yes, however Phil answered anyway, “Er yes. I need one so I can print your ID,” he explained. The blush had spread across Phil’s face now, making the incredibly light freckles stand out against his milk coloured skin. Dan watched as Phil threaded his fingers through his dark black fringe, gently pushing it back behind his ear so that it was neater. How did he achieve such a perfect fringe, in such little effort? It framed his face perfectly, making his blue eyes pop with colour.

“Dan?” Phil questioned and Dan’s snapped out of his fantasy, turning a deep shade of scarlet as he realised he had been caught staring. “P-pardon, sorry?” He stammered and Phil smirked slightly, cheeks still heavily flushed but more relaxed than before.

With a tap of Phil’s lanky fingers Dan realised he was holding a camera, if machines that old could really be known as cameras. It didn’t appear to even have a screen, so the idea of this ancient machine having the same name as the fancy Canon Dan had back home (it used to belong to his father but now it was Dan’s and he wasn’t sure what to do with it) seemed highly ridiculous. “Can I take one for your ID?” He asked and Dan’s face became impossibly hotter. With a nod Dan smiled sheepishly, Phil held up the camera to his eye, squinting slightly as he peeked through the viewfinder. Dan couldn’t help but feel that Phil was born to hold a camera, the way his hands shaped it comfortably, as though the machine was part of his body and not a separate entity, made Dan’s heart flutter once again. Seriously, how could anyone be so enamoured after only ten minutes of meeting someone?

There was a snap, followed by a flash of light, and Phil was peeking out from behind the camera, “Let’s hope that was good,” Phil shrugged as he plugged the prehistoric camera into the computer and slid the chair backwards towards the printer. Dan couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips as Phil rolled across the room, crashing the chair into the bench. He stood mesmerized as Phil gathered his documents and timetable into a manilla folder, his fingers gentle and experienced as he smoothed them out so they wouldn’t be crinkled.

Embarrassingly Phil seemed to notice him staring, as a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, which Dan were definitely not staring at thank you very much! He was also definitely not thinking about how those soft, pink lips would feel pressed against his lips, absolutely not. “See something you like Howell?” Phil was smirking, and oh my god Dan had officially died and been sent to Heaven, because nobody could look that pure when they smirked! It’s impossible, and unnatural! “I-I I uh I’m,” Dan stammered awkwardly which just made Phil’s smirk widen because he wasn’t denying it, in fact Dan couldn’t even remember how to speak, let alone denying the truth.

As Dan continued to flounder awkwardly, Phil returned his attention to the computer again, a smirk still quirking at his lips, which admittedly gave Dan a higher chance of functioning, as those beautiful eyes weren’t focused on Dan and his every move. He attempted to gather his thoughts and calm his racing heart, to no avail. Out of nowhere Phil whistled at the screen, drawing Dan’s attention back to those beautiful lips that he definitely shouldn’t be looking at, “God Dan, how do you manage to make such a quick photo look so beautiful?” Phil gaped at the screen, bringing colour automatically back to Dan’s cheeks.

“It helps when you have a beautiful photographer,” he mumbled before the thought had fully registered, and when it did there was no way he could take it back. However, as Dan died internally, Phil smiled widely, a heavy flush adorning his cheeks and neck, “Jeez you’re one to talk,” He said in a hushed voice, as though it was a thought that wasn’t meant to exit his mouth. Judging by the look on his face it just mightn’t have been. Dan felt a strange bubble in his chest, it seemed to fill him with an obscure confidence he’d never felt before, “Maybe we could catch up sometime and debate over it?” He could barely believe that he had thought that with his own brain, let alone said it with casual confidence, but he did.

Phil’s mouth dropped open, and for a half second Dan felt his confidence wilt, until Phil beamed at him, wide and honest. “Sounds awesome,” he said with that smile that seemed to stab Dan in the chest while simultaneously wrapping him in a warm blanket, “Saturday work for you?” Dan nodded vigorously, his heart pounding at a million miles per hour, “Saturday’s great!” He squeaked, confident demeanour gone and returned to his usual awkward gay self. Phil didn’t seem to mind, he grinned once more, handing over the folder with a brush of their fingers and saying, “I’ll come drop off your ID at around midday.” Clutching the folder to his chest as though it could contain his rapidly beating heart Dan replied, “Can’t wait!” He scurried away with only one thought running through his mind,

I have a date!

Next Part

[fuck-customers]

It's not us, it's you. (long)

I feel so bad but oddly at peace. We got this new manager in where I was working at. Our old one was super cool and the best any of us ever had. We all would go to the ends of the Retailverse for him, no lie. Then he got sent away to another store out of nowhere. The new manager we got is a shriveled up, unpleasant woman. We all tried to give her a chance, we really did. I tried to joke around with her and tell her some of my stories, and she seemed to like me, but it didn't stop her from making me cry the second day that she was there. I guess according to her Im a snobby know it all kid or something. I knew more about the store then she did and my old manager told me to help her transition, but she always pushed me away and then acted like she knew how to do my job better than me, when she hadn't ever dealt with some of the things I did before and we both knew she had no idea what she was talking about. Look, lady, I get it. You're worried he hot dog buns in the warmer are old, but get this: They Are Potato Bread Buns. Not White Bread. They Will Have A Different Texture, Especially When Slowly Warmed Up When Coming Out Of The Fridge. I Know What I'm Talking About. They Aren't Old. I Put Them Out An Hour Ago. Stop It. She would sit in her office all day making phone calls to talk about what a joke the store was. Oh, you can't get the daily paperwork done in a timely manner? Try staying off the goddamn phone and actually do the paperwork. She consistently said that we were all undisciplined and lazy, when we had been standing for so long our feet burned because we were in so much pain. Our old manager let us sit if we were tired. He let us quickly eat our snacks if we got hungry. He let us take an extra 10 if our feet hurt or we didn't feel good. He just wanted us to stay happy so we would continue being productive. Not the new manager. I guess her old store was a "well oiled machine" compared to ours. We do things differently than she likes, so we're all lazy. It doesn't matter that before she came, the biweekly stock deliveries were put away in less than two hours and the cooler was always stocked. It didn't matter that our snack bar was always refreshed exactly when it was supposed to be. It didn't matter that the store was always clean, garbages empty, and bathrooms clean. According to her, that's lazy. Oh, one of the most dedicated employees was working alone, it got busy, and he forgot something? LAZY. Night guy doesn't feel good so he sits down for a while, but still gets everything plus some done? LAZY. Bad knees and have to sit for a minute? LAZY. It got too busy to leave the register and the store got dirty? Spoiler alert: Lazy. That store was not meant for her. That store was turned around by our old manager, who actually gives a shit about his employees. We had a culture there where we were family and could look forward to going to work and seeing each other. We ALWAYS did our best to get things done. If we didn't, that's OK. As long as we did our best. The new manager doesn't care if you tried or did your best. She only cares if you did it to her standards. Not to mention that she thought my daily/weekly tasks were "pointless". I was next in line to be assistant manager and I had responsibilities that my old manager depended on me to do to keep the store going. New manager berated me for doing these things, even after I told her why they're necessary. One of the night guys overheard her talking on the phone about how he was going to be fired asap for being lazy, immature, and useless. He does more than he's asked of and never complains. He walked out. She told me I wasn't cut out for this kind of work because I didn't let an old fart of a customer bully me into doing what he wanted by insulting my intelligence. Then she called me a snob for standing up for myself and telling him no. She called the cops on one of the employees because she accidentally took the keys to the gas pump's receipt printer home. A worker from another store doesn't want to be around her because she treated him like he was stupid because she couldn't understand his accent. Sorry, new manager. Four of us walked out on you, and there's only two employees remaining. I'd say that I'm inviting bad karma to myself, but after a lot of thinking... I think that losing four hard working, kind, respectable, and professional employees was her bad karma. Don't push the employees in your new store away. Don't belittle them and make them feel stupid and useless. Don't make the sensitive ones cry. They will all leave you leave you out to dry.

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 5

We retreated back into the den to finish up the movie. A few hours later, Destani got a text from her mom letting her know that she would be home late, so she decided to gather a sleeping Imani and head home to start on dinner. Chris and I were left sitting adjacent to one another on the couches and he flipped aimlessly through the channels of the television. I could hear the sound of the front door unlocking and I peered over my shoulder to find my aunt slipping through the door. “Hi my babies,” She smiled as she moseyed into the den after locking the door behind herself. “Hey Ms. Maddie… how was your day at work?” Chris asked as she plopped down tiredly on the sofa next to me.

“Oh Lord honey, it was tiring as I don’t know what.” She sighed. “Well are you hungry or anything Auntie?” I asked. “Child, I am starving. I’ll probably get on up and go whip up something quick for dinner.” She said through a stifled yawn. “Let me pick up something for you. I was going to get myself something to eat anyway.” I exaggerated, hoping that she would agree to relax and allow me to worry about dinner for the evening. “Oh no baby, you don’t have to do that.” “It’s okay, just tell me what you have a taste for and I’ll go pick it up.” “Well baby if you insist.” She giggled, which of course caused me to laugh.  After she relayed her order to me, I made my way to the stairs to head up to my room to retrieve my shoes, keys, and wallet. I bounded back down the steps to find Chris leaning against the bottom half of the banister, arms crossed with a smirk playing at his rosy lips. “I love how you asked me if I wanted to go,” He said with squinted eyes. “Sorry Chris,” I laughed nearly out of breath, “Would you like to join me on my journey to pick up food?” “Yes… yes I would.” He turned and sauntered into the den to ensure that my aunt would be alright with watching a snoozing Desean then quickly trailed along behind me out of the front door.

We headed out to my car and climbed in then we were on our way. The ride was silent, with the exception of the radio and the light conversation that Chris attempted to start. Arriving at the fast food restaurant a short while later, I shifted the car into park and we simultaneously exited. We entered the establishment and moved to the end of the short line to the registers. Thoughtlessly, I glanced back at Chris who stood close behind me only to find him suddenly frowning deeply and peering toward the left side of the restaurant. “What’s wrong?” I asked, momentarily ignoring the lack of space between the front of his body and the back of mine. He lowered his dimming orbs to me and I watched as his tongue slithered smoothly out over his pouted lips. “Nothing” He mumbled.

I didn't immediately tear my watchful eyes from him, because the blushed tint of his cheeks contradicted his words and alerted me immediately. He was getting upset about something and I had not a clue what it could be. We stood a short while longer in the line, with Chris taking frequent glances toward the left of the building. “Um, hi.” I greeted the cashier once we approached the counter. “Hello, can I take your order?” The girl seemed less than thrilled to be speaking to me, but she quickly took notice of Chris’s who never lost his place behind me. Once I finished reciting my order, I began to wonder if she’d even taken it accurately as she stared relentlessly at him. After blurting out my total, she swiftly turned her attention to Chris “Anything for you sir?” “Nah ma, I’m good.” He muttered, jamming his hands down into his front pockets. She smirked and allowed her eyes to drift from his face down to the top of his chest. With one glance in my direction, her mood shifted abruptly and with a not so discreet roll of her eyes, she tore my receipt from the small printer and wordlessly pushed it toward me.

Chris and I moved from the growing line and stood off to the side to wait for the order. He focused his attention toward the far left corner of the sitting area again and I finally peered off in the direction his eyes had ventured, noticing a table in the very back occupied by four black guys. “Like I’m really not understandin what the fuck they’re starin at over here. They really need to turn the fuck around.” He mumbled through barely parted lips. I turned to face him and reached out to grip his tense arm “Calm down. They’re probably just looking at the cashier or something.” “Nah. The nigga with the nappy ass dreads already pointed dead at you when we walked in and all them niggas turned around to look.” He explained with a grimace. “Okay well… why are you so upset?” I asked, genuinely confused. I figured I’d missed the point as to why he was becoming progressively upset in the first place by their persistent staring. “I…” He glanced down at me with a sigh, “They just need to turn the fuck around.”

With furrowed brows, I gazed up toward the counter with hopes that they would call my number soon. We continued to wait and I finally managed to coax Chris into turning around and diverting his attention elsewhere. With the thought of the staring group of boys now creeping to the back of my mind, I suddenly felt a tap against my shoulder and I turned to find one of them standing there smiling. “Aye ma… can I talk to you for a second?” He asked shamelessly. “Nah my nigga, she good.” Chris blurted, slipping into place next to me and possessively wrapping an arm around my waist. “My bad, I don’t think I was speaking to you homeboy. I was talking to this lovely young lady right here.” He explained, reaching out to grip my wrist. “Real talk bruh, you need to chill the fuck out and move along.” I could feel his grip tightening against my waist as he glowered unnervingly at the guy who stood nearly a full foot shorter than him. “This you bro?” The guy asked, looking from me to Chris for an answer. “Yes homie… can you please let go of her arm?” The guy lifted his hands in a surrendering manner, then turned to head back over to his table.

With luck finally on my side, my ears perked at the sound of my order number. I raced to the counter as quickly as I could with Chris still glued to my hip. Snatching my bag from the counter, I maneuvered toward the exit and led Chris to the car and he trudged along behind me with his hand still stuck to my hip. I focused on disregarding the abnormal sensation of his hand placed perfectly against the curve of my waist… we’d just narrowly dodged a huge confrontation inside the restaurant and I was determined to get us out of there before things escalated. “You can let go now.” I muttered, peeping down at his hand. He dropped his stern gaze to the location of his large limb and slowly dropped his arm to his side. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

I could hear the sound of the door chiming behind us and I assumed it was just a random patron exiting the building. “Aye you light bright mothafucka!” A voice yelled out behind us. I turned around to find all four boys from the back of the restaurant leisurely approaching. Looking back at Chris, I noticed that he had initially continued on to the car. He slowed in his path and glanced over his shoulder with a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I stared on horrifically as he chuckled and jabbed an incriminating finger into his chest. “You’re talking to me?” “Yeah I’m talking to your faggot ass. My homeboy here says he felt like you disrespected him and I think you owe him an apology.” The guy clarified. Chris turned his body completely to face the group and gradually began to close the gap between them. “Alright, let me get this straight… you want me to apologize to this bitch ass nigga right here?” The ring leader of the group laughed, shook his head, and pointed at Chris “Don’t be disrespectful homie, unless you trynna get your pretty boy ass whooped.” “Oh… oh okay, I understand… you’re gonna whoop my ass if I don’t deliver a sincere apology to your friend here, yes?” Chris stopped directly in front of the group and glared dauntingly at the main speaker, “Well how about we skip that apology altogether and get right to the ass whoopin homeboy?”

“Nah my nigga, that’s not what I said. You need to chuck up that apology to my bro. I mean, how was he supposed to know that was your bitch…” The poor guy didn’t even have a chance to finish that thought… Chris had already stiffened his right fist and cocked his arm back, projecting it forward and delivering a potent blow to the left side of the guys face. His jaw was clenched as he huffed through flaring nostrils like a mad man and hovered over the seemingly unconscious guy who’d landed on his back with a hard thud. “You wanna keep talkin all that shit homeboy? Get the fuck up and lemme get that ass whoopin you just promised my light bright faggot ass!” He barked, face morphing quickly into a darkened shade of red.

I was initially frozen in shock at the sound of the impact his tatted knuckle made against the guy’s cheek. I quickly snapped out of that daze though and rushed to Chris’s side, throwing an arm around his midsection in an attempt to pull him away from the scene. “Charlie calm down. You've proven your point, now just calm down… it’s okay.” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear. In the midst of his anger and in the most minuscule manner, I could just barely feel his tense body melting against my grasp. It was almost as if he were allowing himself to be tranquilized by my touch. I gripped him tighter, because the serenity of his body was still the opposite of his brash words. “Nah Hope, let me go. This bitch ass nigga right here said he was gonna whoop my ass. You mothafucka’s get this bitch up so he can live up to his word… fuckin punk ass bitch!” The veins in his neck bulged as his voice boomed throughout the lot, inviting a few onlookers. With every bit of strength I could muster, I pushed him back toward my car. Miraculously, I was able to hold onto him long enough to get the passenger side door open and by the grace of God I forced him inside.

Slamming the door shut once I’d managed to get him to tuck his legs inside, I started for the driver’s side and faltered in my steps at the sound of an all too acquainted voice behind me. “Yeah that’s right, listen to your girl and take your bitch ass on!” The boy who’d bravely approached me in the restaurant shouted. I swung around at the sound of the passenger side door opening and spotted Chris emerging from the confines of the car “What the fuck did you say? I see you talkin shit all the way over there after I got my ass in this car. Please, come the fuck over here and say that shit to my face. Please... I dare you!” Thankfully the boy didn’t take Chris up on his dare and remained in his position on the other side of the lot as I raced around to lure him back into the car. Once I’d secured him inside, I pressed my thumb firmly into the lock button on the fob on my keychain and finally scurried over to my door. I had to be sure to time it so that I could climb into my seat without Chris climbing back out.

Once I made it in and locked the doors immediately, I didn’t hesitate to crank the ignition and reverse the car out of the parking lot. Adrenaline coursed through me as I focused merely on removing Chris from the spectacle he’d created at the restaurant. I peered into the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the stupidly brave boy tossing a stubby middle finger in the air at my retreating vehicle. My breath became wedged somewhere in my throat as I watched Chris from the corner of my eye. I’d assumed he’d taken notice of the boy’s gesture and he quickly pressed a finger against the button to lower his window. He recklessly slithered his entire torso out of the window and turned to face the restaurant “Fuck you, fat ass nigga… tell your lil bitch to come see me when he wake the fuck up. I’m still waitin on that ass whoopin!”

--

Resting my head against the headrest, I pulled the car to a halt at a traffic light with a sigh. Silently, I turned my attention to a fuming Chris. He sat slouched in his seat with his hat pulled dangerously low over his brows and his right leg quivering furiously. With the amount of rage radiating from his body, I somehow still couldn’t contain the smirk that teased my lips at the sight of him. There was something about his livid demeanor that drew me in. I was captivated by the strength and masculinity of his jawline, the natural pout of his rosy lips, and the light splash of russet freckles sprinkled across the tops of his cheeks. Who was I kidding… the boy was a walking Adonis. I swiftly turned my attention away from him just as he began to turn his head in my direction. "Um... are you alright?" I asked as I accelerated at the green light. "I’m good." He mumbled. His vibe made it clear that he didn’t desire to speak, so I allowed the radio to fill the car as we continued on to my house. Arriving a short while later, I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park then killed the ignition.

"Did you want to come in and eat or something?” I asked softly. With a sigh, he ran his hands over his face and sat up straight in his seat “No thank you. Imma just head home now.” "Well I ordered extra, if you want to come over later or something.” "Yeah… I guess I’ll let you know." His tone never rose above that of a murmur as he climbed from his seat and out onto the driveway. I followed suit, moving to pluck the food from the backseat. Once I secured the car with the lock on my keychain, I turned to face Chris who gazed off down the street. My eyes followed his stare and I spotted a familiar vehicle creeping up the road. It didn’t take long to figure out who was approaching… it was his girlfriend.

I faced Chris who was already standing there, staring quietly at me. “I’ll talk to you later Hope.” I nodded and turned to move toward my front door. Slipping my key into the lock of the door, I glanced back at Chris who never tore his gaze away from me. Gabby had already pulled into his driveway and she was more than halfway out of the driver side “While you standin there gawking at her, I know you see me.” She shouted over the roof of her car. He quickly turned his attention toward her, then ambled on past her toward his front porch. "I see you Gabby. But I’m not in the mood for bullshit, so chill with that.” “I'm sorry papi," She started as her expression immediately reflected pure seduction, “Since your mom isn’t home, why don’t you let me help make you feel better.” Pushing the door open, I nearly toppled over the threshold as I moved quickly to get inside and out of earshot of their conversation.

--

Desean had apparently been picked up by Tootie before we got back, so now it was only my aunt I sitting across from one another at the kitchen table enjoying dinner and light conversation. The moment we sat at the table, she immediately noticed an absent Chris and began to interrogate me regarding his whereabouts. "Well, he got a little upset while we were getting the food and he wanted to go home to cool off." I explained. With a raised brow, she peered at me fretfully "What happened Sy?" I sighed and prepared to give her the details of the incident that’d taken place less than an hour ago. As the story concluded, I glanced at her as she shook her head. "I told Joyce that boy has some serious anger issues. She should really look into getting him some professional help for that." She said with furrowed brows. I nodded in agreement and sipped from my cup of juice "Well his girlfriend came over as soon as we got back… maybe she can help him calm down or something." Twisting her lips to one side, my aunt squinted at me "Isn’t Joyce at work?" "Yeah, I think so." I replied. "Well I bet that lil heffa of a girlfriend can help him ‘calm down’." I nearly choked on a forkful of food as I laughed at her. There was no doubt that no one in our immediate circle was very keen to the thought of Chris being with Gabby… even my aunt. She was very open about her distaste for the girl and she never hesitated to remind me of that.

"But, let ask you this Sy... how did you feel when he defended your name the way he did?" She asked, referring to that piece of the story I’d shared. I stared at her in confusion as I considered her question "What do you mean?" Placing her napkin down on the table, she leaned comfortably against the back of her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "You know what I mean. How did it feel to know that he was sticking up for you?" "Well I definitely didn’t think of it as him defending me… I mean, why would he? I think he was just upset by the way those guys were acting and that’s what set him off.”

"Let me tell you something honey," She started, resting her elbows against the table with a smirk, “Your aunt knows a thing or two about love and chemistry… and believe me, I know it when I see it. The chemistry I see between you and that boy is like something I’ve never witnessed before. He adores you Sy’Diyah and if I’m not mistaken… the feelings are very mutual.” Peering down at my twiddling thumbs, I shook my head in disagreement “Well let’s say I actually did have feelings for him… Auntie, there would never be a chance for me. I mean honestly, do you see the girl that he’s with? How could I ever compete with that? Chris goes for the confident, exotic model type and I don’t possess any of that. And even if I did, I could never approach him confidently enough to look him in the eye and just blurt out ‘Hey Chris, I know you have a girlfriend… but I really like you.’ It’ll never happen.”

Rising regally from her chair, my aunt rounded the table to kneel in front of me and she clutched onto my hands “Sweetheart, listen to me… you are one of the most stunning young ladies I have ever laid eyes on and don’t you ever let anyone tell you any different, do you hear me? You may not see it now, but after nearly ten years of watching you and Chris grow together… I’m positive that you mean more to that boy than you could ever imagine and I’m sure he appreciates just how beautiful you are. I know you won’t believe it now, but I’m sure you’ll see for yourself in due time. Now I won’t force you to sit here and confess to being in love with him and I certainly won’t promote you being a home wrecker and intruding on his unfortunate relationship, but never say never baby… because you’ll never know until you try.”

With a wink and a warm smile, she stood to her full height and pulled me up into a tight hug. Clenching my eyes shut, I quickly wiped away one random stray tear that’d cascaded down my cheek. My aunt was one of the wisest women I knew and I’d always admired her for her majestic mannerisms and her southern belle disposition. I was very happy with the young woman I’d become and I had no one to thank but her for her relentless devotion to raising me as if I were her own daughter. “Thank you Aunt Maddie.” I purred into the collar of her uniform. After effectively regulating the waterworks, I informed her that I was tired and I was soon on my way up to my room to prepare for bed. Gathering a large t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts to sleep in, I moseyed into the restroom for a shower. Nearly half an hour later, I exited the bathroom with a flurry of steam trailing behind me. I pulled my herbal essence infused tresses into a messy bun atop my head and tossed my outfit from the day into the hamper in my closet. Switching off the lamp on my nightstand, I finally climbed under the plush blankets on my bed.

I nestled myself against the overabundance of pillows that adorned the top half of my bed and allowed my mind to become swamped with unanswered questions, most of which surrounded Chris. I was more confused than ever by what both Destani and my aunt had shared with me earlier in the day. They both seemed so confident that Chris did indeed share the feelings that I had for him, but why couldn’t I see what they spoke of? I didn’t want to get my hopes high by making myself believe something that wasn’t true. The more the thought stirred in my mind, the more confused I became. In less than five minutes I began to drift into the first cycle of sleep with the confusing thoughts front and center on my mind. In the distance, I could hear the sound of soft tapping from what sounded like the furthest corner of my room. My eyes fluttered and I thought for a moment that I was only hearing the sounds of the house settling around me. The noise rang out again and I turned my squinted eyes toward my large bay window. Slipping from the confines of my bed, I moved closer to the window and cautiously pulled the string to raise the blinds. Eventually I breathed a sigh of relief once I made out the silhouette of Chris perched comfortably on a large branch of the big tree.

He watched me with uncertainty in his eyes as I slid the window up, and nibbled at his bottom lip “Hey, um… sorry if I woke you up. Can I come in?” Staring at him thoughtfully, I wondered why he was requesting entry at such a late hour. He’d knocked at on my window a ton of times since we were kids, but he hadn’t done it recently and I was honestly curious as to what caused him to resort back to the habit. "Yeah... come on in." I eased off to the side of the window, giving him plenty of space to climb through and land carefully on the carpeted floor. I glanced back inquisitively at him as I moved to shut and lock the window and waited quietly for him to explain why he was standing in my room instead of his. "Uh... my mom... she’s been on some other shit all day. I couldn't deal with that tonight so, can I...?” His words wavered as his gaze plunged to the floor. "Yes Chris, you can stay." I muttered, turning to fully face him. My eyes drank in the sight of him standing there in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms that of course sagged comfortably at his waist, revealing his black Ralph Lauren boxer briefs. His torso was dressed in a solid black tank, leaving his perfectly ink adorned arms and chest on full display.

My gaze followed his retreating body as he moved toward the side of the bed he typically occupied “Thanks Hope. I swear I was gonna sleep in my car if you wouldn’t have let me stay.” Giggling softly, I followed suit and ventured back to my side of the bed “When have I ever told you no?” “I mean, you coulda had a change of heart or something. Coulda been done with a nigga crashin in your bed all the time.” He chortled. Climbing beneath the covers, I shifted with the desire to reclaim the comfy position I’d previously had “Well would you like to tell me what happened?” He sighed as he pulled the comforter up to his midsection and tucked an arm beneath his head “Ms. Joyce was just trippin man,” He started, referring to his mother by the only name he would call her when he was peeved with her, “As soon as she walked in from work and spotted Gabby, she immediately went off and started bitchin.”

"Did you two get caught doing something?" I asked. "See that’s the thing… we weren’t doing shit. I was still pissed from what happened at that restaurant so I wasn’t even feelin Gabby like that, no lie. Ms. Joyce just hulked her way in the den and was like ‘Chris, what the hell are you doing in my house with this girl? I told you not to be in my house with no females alone boy. She needs to go.’ She was going nonstop for the rest of the fuckin night, even after the girl left. So I said fuck it, I’m not trynna snap on my mama… let me remove myself from this blasphemy.” His voice was soft, yet gruff as he finished off his story. Laughing lightly, I snuggled my head against the pillows and yawned with fatigue "Well I'm sorry you had to go through that. Why don't you try to get some rest now?" I suggested. Turning to face me, he licked his tongue out over his bottom lip with raised brows “I’m sorry for blowin up like that earlier.” I knew that he was referring to the incident at the restaurant and I smiled as I listened to him acknowledge his wild behavior “It’s alright, you were rightfully angry and I know you couldn’t help it.”

“Nah, but like… for me to get that worked up and outta control right there in front of you, was extremely uncalled for. What if that situation woulda escalated? You coulda got hurt and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself for that.” His brows began to furrow from the intensity of his stare. “You’re absolutely right, anyone could have gotten hurt if the situation escalated. But that didn’t happen… and I’m fine, so no worries.” I reasoned. He nodded, just barely, but never tore his gaze from me. Easing his bottom lip into his mouth, I watched through my peripheral as he slipped a hand over his solid abdomen. His gaze grew nearly intolerable and I quickly cleared my throat and pulled the blanket up to my neck. "Well, I’m pretty tired. So um, goodnight.” “Night.” He spoke in a hushed tone. Turning onto my side so that my back was to him, I stared at the large window adjacent to me. Ten minutes passed and I was hopeful that he’d dozed off, so I shut my eyes and relaxed against the bedding. After unmistakably feeling the bed move, I froze and prayed that he was rotating to situate himself comfortably. I nearly fainted at the feeling of his arm snaking around my waist, gently pulling me closer to him. He aligned his torso with my back and I focused on maintaining a normal breathing pattern when I felt his warm breath tickling the back of my neck.

“You smell so sweet.” He whispered. I refused to utter a single word for fear that anything that seeped from my lips would come out in the form of a moan. He chuckled softly as he used a finger to make tiny circles against my stomach “You’re the only person who truly understands me, you know that?” With the stimulating sensation of tingles traveling down my spine, I gulped back a mouthful of spit and remained stock still “No.” I wasn’t sure how much I’d just embarrassed myself by attempting to speak to him, but he full out laughed and a distinct low groan came from somewhere within his throat. “Well you are,” He uttered, with his silky lips moving lightly against the skin of my neck, “You don’t know how much I appreciate you for that. I’ll show you one day…” I had no clue what he meant and with my muddled brain, I couldn’t even form a comprehensive thought to make it make sense. In one fluid motion, he pressed his pillowy lips against the back of my neck and held them there, squeezing me into a tight hug from behind. “Goodnight Hope.”

[topicprinter]

Hey guys. I’ll try to summarize our current dilemma as briefly as possible without excluding anything important, so please bear with me.I’m one of three founders of a German drone startup. The product we’re developing and hoping to sell is a vertical take off and landing (VTOL) long range drone. It is to be used in linear inspections (power & pipelines, railroad) as well as in small goods transports (5kg/11lb) over 100km (60mi).The team consists of an industrial engineer, a mechatronic engineer with focus on robotics/drones and me, a business guy who has also built quite a few drones and 3D printers out of personal interest and to learn about the tech (to be able to manage a company that’s based on it). The mechatronic engineer is Chinese and still lives in Shanghai, where I met him during a 6 month study period abroad in 2016. He will to move to Hamburg as soon as he can afford it. We have rented a pigsty near Hamburg that is really cheap (150€/month for 50qm/538 square feet)We’ve started working on this late 2016 and have gone in almost full-time since April 2018. (Only side jobs to cover the costs).The drone uses a new type of drive system that we have a patent pending for. The drive system works and has been tested on a sub scale testbed. It enables flying at a higher speed thus increasing wind resistance, so the drone can be used in bad weather. Also it enables the drone to be smaller (easier to transport) making it about ⅓ the size of our competitors.As I’ve worked in the the federal association for unmanned systems in Germany, I am fairly familiar with the legal and political framework. I am certain that our drone can legally fly beyond visual line of sight of the pilot - a real advantage for long range inspections that no competitor has as of now.We have flown a software testbed that took off vertically and transitioned into forward flight with the open source software we’re planning to use as a base for our code (PX4). Two of us have worked with integrating sense-and-avoid sensors into the software and hardware we‘re planning to use in the final product - also we’ve automated drones.After lots of CFD simulations (basically a virtual wind tunnel), we now have the shape for the final product and the airframe should work.We’ve printed out a 1:1 plastic model (120x100cm / 4x3ft) and presented it during the Harvard German-American Conference in Boston in October.We’ve talked to lots of potential customers in the industry in the past year and the feedback was always about the same: They would be interested in buying the product at the asked price (100k€/ $114k), but only if it performs as promised. That said, we only have one real LOI - I think we’re to early stage to push for more in order to avoid wasting the one flash of interest we can kindle when contacting firms with our product.Four individuals contacted us with the intention to invest in our project - three during expo talks, one through a private channel. Since we do not have a prototype flying and cannot fulfill all of our promises, we’ve politely declined so far stating that we’re not at that point yet. I’m personally hesitant to get someone aboard as we’d probably pass on a lot of equity=influence in this early stage.Currently we’re applying for a German government grant for tech startups (125k€). One of the requirements is that the project is not incorporated, which is why we haven’t registered the company as of today.We have a business plan (~40 pages) in its 11th iteration (we’ve worked with two counselors the city of Hamburg provided us with and that we’re very grateful for).Now, after all this background information, I can start with the current issue.The application was recommended for the grant by the city of Hamburg. According to the people handling it, we have more progress to show, a better business plan and a better team than other applicants who were accepted.The application was recently declined with the option to improve it and resubmit it. According to the City-of-Hamburg-people, about 75-80% of people who are given this option are accepted on the second (and final) try. So far so good. So here comes the twist.We have time pressure: Either we submit by November 5th or we have to wait until April (it would financially kill us to just wait until then - for most other means of getting money we’d need to incorporate).We’ve gotten a list of what to improve in our business plan, and we did. Then, in a final phone call with the government agency that decides upon the grant, a different person suddenly came up with entirely different things we need to improve. These include 1-2 LOIs from large companies (by Friday basically) and some other pretty big things. Also they stated that we should consider revoking our application and submitting a new one in April.Currently I fear that one of two things is true:they don’t want to give us the grant because we’re directly competing with another long range drone startup they’ve funded a year agoThey’re out of budget for this year and want to push us into next year this way.We’ve decided we’ll hand it in before November 5th and get whatever LOI we can get by then (the federal association might help us out with some contacts, their LOI was already in from the start).If they decline us, we’re in trouble.To get a working prototype, we have to unite the team in one place and work on it full-time with money for the parts. To get money, we need a working prototype.The current plan B is for us two Germans to get a loan, move to Shanghai and build the prototype there - that way our Chinese Co-Founder, who has the largest salary, can still work on the side.To get him to Germany would mean a huge leap for him - one he can only take if he’s sure he’ll have enough money to stay alive. It’d be difficult for him to get his clients back if he needs to return for financial reasons.So, finally to my question: Is there a similar situation you’ve faced? What would you suggest in our current situation?​TL;DR: If government grant application for early stage drone startup fails, the prototype must be built to get investment - but investment is necessary to build the prototype.

[cameronwjones]

Event Heroes: David Campbell

Each month we interview an events professional that is doing something amazing. This month we interviewed David Campbell of Stableview Tech—one of the largest gatherings of tech investors, entrepreneurs, business leaders and innovators in Canada.

David Campbell is the Marketing Communications Director at Stableview Asset Management. He looks after all of the partnerships and production that goes into the organization’s flagship event series Stableview Tech. In this Event Heroes interview, David shares how Stableview Tech came to be one of the largest tech events in Canada, in addition to event best practices and his approach to event curatorship.

Interested in being featured as an Event Hero? Apply here!

How do you work with events in your current role?

We have one event that we have been putting on every year for the past four years. Our event is probably different from 99% of the events out there. We’re bringing together as many facets of the capital markets as we can—even our competitors—to present to them technology companies that are worthy, investible, and solid tech companies that have been vetted and curated by us and our attendees are also curated. We're trying to be the bridge of the first introduction that these companies may have to their next investment, their next client, their next million dollar deal. 

You're interacting a lot with investors and with the leadership from these different tech companies. How does that affect the way that you go about creating an event? What sort of considerations do you have in mind?

Last year we had $300 billion dollars of assets under management at our one-day event. Considering that level, we really need a website and a check in process that is seamless, but provides us with a lot of information. So we're looking for a very unobtrusive, easy, better technical experience. After all, it's a tech conference and we want to provide a tech solution to registration and check-in.

We also want to provide a better experience than anybody else that's providing a conference even close to this.

Everything we do, we're looking to be more a premiere service, a premiere conference, from check in to registration, to breakfast, to lunch, it all has to be a seamless elevated experience.

Beyond having a technology platform that is working in your favor, how do you go about addressing that breakfast experience or just the rest of the events experience?

Breakfast is not coffee and a donut, you know what I mean, it's a little bit more. We're really making sure these people are fueled up because we really want them to be there and listening and engaged, so we're really trying to break ourselves out from any other conference that's happening in this city. And it's all free. Our attendees don't pay. But we choose who attends, they apply to attend.

How do you you work with sponsors and partners to help you produce your event?

Last year we worked with twelve sponsors including the fourth largest stock exchange in the world, and a law firm from the United States, Chicago, come up and participate and be a sponsor. So in pitching them, we're really trying to engage them and their knowledge.

And it's been happening for four years. I'm curious, over that period of time, what has changed?

The big problem that we had was registration. How do we get these high net worth individuals in the door as seamlessly and effortlessly as possible without having those big freaking lines where people are looking for badges that are alphabetized on desks? So we came up with, we chose Bizzabo primarily because of that and their relationship with Boomset and then our ability to hook in wireless printers.

What has changed from last year to this year is our focus on marketing, how are we going to market the event and how are we going to really focus leverage our presenting companies into the website to push into LinkedIn, and to push out content.

So you're trying to increase the number of applications you get?

We're doubling it, we want to double it.

How many people attended last year?

Last year was about 300 people. We had 500 people register and 300 people showed up. The day that we were doing it, four other investing events were happening in Toronto, so everybody was spread fairly thin. This year we're looking to have 1,000 people attend.

Because you're balancing attendees that are investors and presenters from tech companies, each of which have their own goals, what ratio do you look to have?

Almost 90% of the event is going to be investors but also accounting firms, like KPMG, Deloitte, those kind of guys. Then large fund managers and that kind of stuff. Then even IP lawyers P. These are the people who make up the ecosystem of investing here in Canada, whether it's public or private. But then in terms of the innovators, we showcase 34 companies and they will present to the audience, but then we're going to have another 40 companies attend. So about 70 companies-ish are going to have access to our attendees and we're going to put in another piece in the background called Meet Max.

Meet Max?

What we're trying to do with Meet Max is facilitate our 1,000 attendees actually having meeting access with the innovators and companies, so that they can open conversations around deal structures and term sheets to start the process of investing.

You mentioned that creating each event, when you're creating an event you should create it like an art gallery. Could you share a bit more about that

Absolutely, so the way I see my role here is that I'm not creating an event, I'm creating an experience. Whether it's a shopping experience or whatever, we're most engaged when we have an experience that exceeds our expectations. I'm the curator, so I bring in the artists, which are the presenting companies. Then I bring in the attendees, the audience, I market to them, and I want them to have a feeling that they're going to get something more out of it than if they were a part meeting.

I want to create an environment where they are excited to be there, and are going to take something away more than they expected.

Even in terms of staging the event itself, we really worked hard on trying to provide a bit more of an exciting environment than just a “trade show”.

What's the most rewarding part of the event process for you? You mentioned that helping people make the right connections at the right time is really great.

Yup, that is but it's also just when people leave and go: “This is the best event I've ever been to. That was awesome.” When we send out post-event surveys and when people write in the actual comments that this is the best event they've ever been to, “I've really learned a lot,” or just simple thank you’s—it’s just wow, that means a lot.

What's a piece of advice you'd give to somebody who's just starting out as an event professional or someone who wants to become one? In the form online you mentioned, bring a part of yourself to each show.

Yeah, I guess that's a bit, yeah for sure. I guess because I'm thinking of it being a curator, there's a large portion of my job that's in research. I'm researching not only sponsors and trying to find fits and angles, I'm researching companies and trying to find commonalities and successes. I would say to spend enough time researching appropriate sponsors so that you can highlight their touch points, and also researching and being around common topics to make the event topical.

That's the way to do it. Alright, so how do you stay inspired and keep your creative instincts fresh?

To be honest, I go to a lot of events myself and a lot of tech events, it's awesome to be around early career-stage people who are there to make a difference, and they feel passionate about what they're doing, it's just like “that's awesome.” I went to one recently called FITC. It took a wide breadth of inspiration of art, of technology and there were so many young people there talking and for me just being in the technology space, people want to talk and they're the same as artists. Artists want to talk, everybody is open to communicating.

Each month we interview an events professional that is doing something amazing. This month we interviewed David Campbell of Stableview Asset Management.

Come up with ideas for the next year—specifically the pitch deck for the sponsorship for the next year—and to catch that wave of energy. And a huge aggressive beer.

from Cameron Jones Updates https://blog.bizzabo.com/event-heroes-david-campbell

[fuck-customers]

I just had the WORST day at work and I really need to vent. This is probably gonna be pretty long, fair warning and apologies. So it’s always kind of a crapshoot when I first get to work, especially after having a day off, whether or not I’m gonna be grumpy first thing, mainly due to nothing being put away, no notes about ongoing things, no communication, that sort of thing. Plus people moving stuff around and that. Today wasn’t too, too bad, but then right off the bat started getting shitty customers. First there was some lady who was just dyyyyying to use some weird online coupon with no scan code--which, hey, that’s fine. I had called a manager over for an override already since we had manually marked down a product she was buying and I had to adjust it (as instructed) with the manager’s permission in the computer. Then, since he was already there, he handled the coupon thing (which I could have done  no problem but whatever) and even though I had told her at least twice we’d need to put in the coupon code (and thus need to keep looking at her smartphone where the coupon was) she put it away before he could finish entering the “event number” which is where the code’s supposed to go. He kind of muttered, “we’ll make something up,” and I replied, “use the date?” since there’s something else we do that for occasionally. He didn’t do that, fine, I didn’t care, but as everything’s processing, he says to me, “you have to stop doing that.” Slightly confused, I asked stop what? He says putting in the date for the coupon thing. All I said was, I don’t do that for coupons, I put the code. The date thing is for something else and I couldn’t even remember what it was since I’ve done it so infrequently, which I told him. He says there’s some report that says it’s been happening, and I said, well, it’s not me, man. Note that this “manager” is really only a supervisor, and not even my direct supe at that, and he’s also younger than I am so we kid around a lot, and I know for sure he didn’t care about me saying any of that stuff. However, the customer tells me I shouldn’t “argue” with my supervisor in front of customers. I wasn’t really arguing??? Just kind of defending myself lightly, and he wasn’t mad, I wasn’t mad, it wasn’t like a heated discussion or anything. I really had no response to her, so I said nothing. She waits a beat, then tells me how mad she’d be if one of HER employees did that. And I was like, so mad, though I said nothing to her, but internally, I was like, well I don’t work for you, you don’t know our policy, our personal dynamics, and it’s not like I yelled or swore or something in front of her?? Just said, hey I don’t do what you’re saying I’m doing, in a very casual way to someone who did not care that I said it.  SO that ticked me off, then I had a guy complaining that we didn’t have the same exact kind of BIC pens in black he’d been using for 20 years. I told him everything is controlled by corporate and we don’t know when or if something’s going to come back into stock, and it may well be that the company of BIC itself might be discontinuing that particular pen since they have been pushing their newer products pretty hard in-store and I wouldn’t be surprised. The box of blue ones he brought to show me what kind they were was the only box in the store left, so who knows? But he got all shirty and said they’ve been making them for 20 years and they wouldn’t just stop etc. etc. even though bruh, that shit happens all the time! And Bic has plenty of other kinds of pens to shill, so it is extremely possible, but whatever. Then I get a guy come up to the register with my co-worker, who sets down a printer without a word to me, and walks off. I was dealing with another situation at the same time, so I was trying to assess for a second what to do to best help everyone, and I decide I can ring this guy’s other, smaller items + the printer as I’m talking to the person I’d been speaking with immediately prior. Decided, I grab a package of pens he had and he turns his head and BARKS at me, “I’M NOT READY YET!” I immediately set his pens down and apologize, but he was right in the middle of the small counter I check people out at with a bunch of stuff?? Just standing there?? Like, no one else could’ve checked out until he moved???  Anyway, I go back to the first person, keep dealing with that, then see my co-worker return with a laptop, and the guy grabs his stuff, goes to the other register, and has my co-worker ring him through. And I knew he wasn’t like a friend of my co-worker’s or anything based on previous comments from said co-worker, so he just was waiting for the computer from lock-up. Like okay, but it only took a second to bring it out, and in the meantime I could have rang up his small stuff and bagged it, entered his rewards number, signed him up for a protection plan on the printer if he wanted it….there was absolutely ZILCH reason to yell at me for trying to deliver quick service?? So all night I just had these icky people being rude for no reason and I was kind of already bugged by it. Then, I go to put some stuff away from the returns bin which I normally can’t do as front-end but since we had an extra person tonight AND we were really slow, I could leave front-end to do it, and of course, I find like three aisles completely messy and a bunch more stuff out of place, and at this point it’s getting later in the evening and I had asked my co-worker earlier if the store needed faced, and he a) was like, I just faced it last night! (even though it’s supposed to be done daily AND it was like 6 when I asked so a lot of stuff probably had been messed up by then) and then b) said he’d do it before close, but then when I go to put stuff away everything’s still a mess and there’s not a ton of time left to do it PLUS I would have done it if he’d not said he would do it earlier (even though it’s not my responsibility as a cashier). On top of this, he and the other person who was training did some returns a while before I did, and a calendar I had handed to him to put away at that time (because he almost forgot to grab it) was just sitting on top of some random display of storage bins. So not one, but TWO of my fellow employees neglected to put away something they were supposed to, and had plenty of time to do so, and left it sitting out randomly, where I found it, and then I had to put it away. The real kicker is the endcap where it belonged was like maybe two feet away from where they had ditched it. Everything was just irritating me after that, but whatever, I was trying to soldier through. We just got a list of daily chores for each position that are supposed to be done, and I checked mine and it said remove cobwebs from entrance. So okay, I go to do that, and since most of the really bad cobwebs are way up high in the corners, and I’m not that tall and our broom is short, I was jumping up and down to get them, and I could both see and kind of hear my co-workers laughing at me--even though two of them are taller than I am and could have offered to help me, but nooooooo. Then, everyone else ordered in Chinese food without even asking me if I wanted anything, and then went to the manager’s office to eat it, once again (because this happens A LOT) leaving me alone to deal with every single customer that came through the place. Now granted, we were pretty dead, but that’s not always the case and it was just really aggravating that they just plain didn’t ask if I wanted food and then went and ate it without asking me if I was okay by myself or if I wanted some, or literally anything. Finally, end of the night rolls around, I go to clean the counters, and the brand-new bottle of 409 I had gotten store-used the last shift I worked (Sunday) was now (Tuesday) missing from where all the cleaning supplies are kept. I had no other cleaning liquids to use, and I was really annoyed that I couldn’t do what I am supposed to do because in the ONE DAY I had off it had disappeared, because of course, NOBODY PUTS THINGS BACK WHERE THEY GO WHEN THEY ARE DONE WITH THEM. So ofc, I start looking and it is NOWHERE. Checked every drawer and cupboard in the break room, both bathrooms, back in receiving, on the desks in the furniture area, and when I went to take out the garbage in the manager’s office, I checked the little cupboard in there and looked on the counter--nothing. I checked every register, on the tech bench, even went back to the print center and looked under all their counters--nothing. I checked the shelf against the inventory numbers to see if for some dumb reason it had been put back out. I asked my supervisor, who had begun counting out, to check the cashier’s office for me (since it’s locked) when he went in. FINALLY--after a great deal of rage and looking--I go back to the manager’s office to ask him if it was in the locked office, and I see it! It was tucked away next to a binder that was angled so I couldn’t see it where I was standing before, but saw it when standing perfectly straight across. So I hurry up and do the counters, and as I am, realize that three different people were in and out of that office all night, eating their fucking food and all, and everyone knew I was looking in a panic for the stupid 409, and not only did none of those fuckers even OFFER to help me look or actually help, none of them saw it in there all night?????? And I bet if they had helped me look one of us would have seen it sooner. And I have helped people look for things more than once--one time I went through garbages that had already been checked and found a key for another co-worker!!! SO at this point I have MCFREAKING LOST IT and since there’s no customers I’m ranting and raving to myself, but still out loud about everything. Everyone , as is their general habit, isn’t even listening or caring or anything. The last thing I did before clocking out was I had to take a returned printer to the damaged and defective product lock-up (which is different than our regular lock-up room) and so I ask over the radio to be let into both lock-up and dnd lock-up. Supervisor comes and lets me into regular lock-up, and even though he could see I only had very few things to put away in there, doesn’t wait for me so he can let me into the other lock-up. But I figure he’ll be there in a second, since I already told him I needed into both AND he was the one whom I had asked if the printer needed to even go into dnd lock-up, which he said it did. So I make my way back there, half-expecting him to maybe have already gone back in anticipation of my arrival, and he’s not there, so just in case he forgot, I radio him again to let me in. After a minute or two, with radio silence the whole time, I radio again, PLEASE let me into lock-up. After another several minutes, he finally comes and says, “oh did you radio me? I took my radio off! I was wondering where you went!” as if I hadn’t told him IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN HE HEARD ME ON THE RADIO BECAUSE HE LET ME INTO REGULAR LOCK-UP I ALSO NEEDED INTO THE OTHER ONE. then, I go to clock out, and ofc everyone else besides me and the supe have left, and they didn’t even leave the clock-out window open for me, so I had to log all the way back in from the  customer portal to the employee one. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal or anything, but after this long whole night of shitty customers and shitty lack of consideration on the part of my co-workers the fucking LEAST they could do is leave the damn clock-out window open for a bitch.  I just can’t believe how fucking oblivious and self-centered and just downright RUDE people can be. I am not always the nicest person, but I try to do a good job and be a good team player and help people out when they’re clearly upset about something (i.e. the unnecessary search for cleaning products) and at least uphold the little social niceties like asking everyone before ordering food if they want!! It just rankles me really badly how things went tonight. I mean the crap from the customers, if annoying, is at least par for the course and could be overlooked, but when I get treated like that by my co-workers, it just sends me over the edge! How hard is it to not be a dick or to put things back where they go? Anyway, rant over.

TL;DR: customers are rude; co-workers are shitty; this girl loses her mind for a night about it.