#sir i’m a grad assistant

[captn-lovelace]

when a student emails me and addresses me as “professor” i feel like i’m stealing valor lmao

[originalfatfiction]

Andy's Assistant

“Hello, excuse me.” There was a gentle rapping at my office door that caused me to look up from my computer. “Are you Andrew Reynolds?” I looked at a young guy obviously in his early twenties. He smiled cheerily as he stood in the doorway, waiting for my response. His smile was gorgeous, his teeth immaculate.

“Yes, I’m Andrew Reynolds,” I replied. “How can I help you?” He smiled again before he continued, walking a little further into my office. 

“Well, the receptionist at the desk in the waiting area said it would be okay if I came on back.” I nodded, allowing him to continue. “My name is Parker Jeong and I applied for the job as your assistant. We had the interview over the phone early last week. I was in the process of moving to the area.”

“Oh, yes, I remember.” Recent college grad. Moving from California. Could start working immediately.

“I know that you mentioned wanting to meet in person before finalizing my employment.” He smiled again, and even with the wholesome smile on his face, I could see in his eyes that he was nervous. He had beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes, and he did his best to hold my gaze. He toyed anxiously with the crisp sheet of paper in his hand, which I assumed was a hard copy of his resumé. He was probably scared I wouldn’t want to hire him after all. Imagine moving across the country for a job only to be told the position had already been filled.

“I know you just graduated a few months ago,” I verbalized. “But from what I remember you telling me during our phone conversation and what I saw on the resumé you emailed over, you’re more than qualified to work as an administrative assistant.”  

“Thank you, sir. I brought a hard copy of my resumé with me,” he said.

“Let me take another look.” He walked closer to my desk and handed it to me. I looked it over, recalling most of the standout credentials. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

Parker had majored in marketing with a minor in graphic design. He’d spent his final semester involved in a mentorship program for Asian-Americans interested in working in advertising. He graduated magna cum laude. Hell, he was overqualified for this position. 

“You’re sure you want this job?” I asked. “You could definitely get a position as a copywriter at another agency.” 

“Hathaway and Associates is the best agency in the entire Midwest. I’ve dreamed of working here since I decided I wanted to go into advertising. The commercials you all put out for Nike were astonishing.” The kid had done his research. 

“What about those commercials did you like so much?” 

“They had this sense of authenticity that I don’t think we see much of anymore. Those ads gave me the courage to join a gym.” I wondered what he’d think if he knew the portly executive in front of him had come up with the concept that inspired his fitness journey. 

“I want more for my career, yes, but I don’t plan on shirking my responsibilities as your assistant. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of, sir.”  

I was a pretty good judge of character, and I didn’t think Parker would let me down. I liked his honesty. It was refreshing. My previous assistants had never been my choice, often young adults that had some sort of connection to the other executives at the agency. “Well, I look forward to working with you.”

“I look forward to working with you too,” he replied, reaching out to shake my hand. I stood, and his eyes traveled upwards to my face. Maybe he couldn’t tell I was so tall behind my desk, but it seemed like he was surprised by my size. I tended to have this effect on people. I grabbed his hand, and we shook to seal the deal of his hiring.

“Head to human resources and get your paperwork finalized. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. We start at nine.” He thanked me again, clutching his over-the-shoulder bag as he left my office. I bet he skipped down the hallway all the way to HR.

I knew he’d work hard. That was certain. But when it came to how sexy he was, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I assumed Parker was gay, and he was definitely a little snack I could see myself sinking my teeth into, but I had to remind myself that I was in a position of power over him. Even if I wanted to see what he was working with underneath his exquisitely tailored slacks, flirting with him was a no-go. And besides, that little gym bunny probably had no interest in a grizzly bear like me.

The next morning, I got to work a little early and Parker was sitting at his station right outside of my office. He had a dozen donuts on his desk and two coffees, one much larger than the other.

“Hello Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “Please let me know what I can do to help you this morning.” He handed me the larger coffee and a napkin before smoothly opening the box of donuts. I recognized them immediately. They were from a trendy new spot that had opened a few months ago. They specialized in unique flavors, like maple-bacon and Fruity Pebbles.

“You sure know how to make an impression.” 

“I told you that I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of.” I grabbed one of the donuts, knowing I’d be coming back out for another within the next fifteen minutes.

“Let me get situated and I’ll let you know what you can do for me.”

“Yes sir.”

I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me with all this “Mr. Reynolds” and “Yes sir” business. My last assistant was a statuesque redhead who never tried to go above and beyond the requirements of her position. Which was fine, I got it. She did what she was paid for. But sometimes I think she messed things up on purpose so I wouldn’t give her more work to do. I barely got a hello from her in the morning, and she left promptly at five without so much as a farewell. 

I shuffled into my office, tossing my bag on one of the chairs opposite my desk. I bit into the donut, savoring its sweetness. It tasted like a Biscoff cookie, and I was almost certain the glaze was made from cookie butter. I took a slightly larger bite before shoving the rest of the pastry into my awaiting mouth. That donut never stood a chance. I already wanted another, but I needed to show some self-restraint. I couldn’t let Parker know I spent my working hours inhaling food three minutes into his first day.

About ten minutes later, Parker was knocking at my door, box of donuts in hand.

“We’re celebrating today, Mr. Reynolds,” he said, walking towards my desk. “I’ve already had two of these. I’m going to leave the box with you so you don’t have to worry about coming back for more.”

“Well, uh, you don’t want to offer them to some of the other assistants?”

“No, sir,” he said, coyly setting the box to the left of me at my L-shaped desk. “This is for me and you, sir.”

Damn did Parker know the way to a big man’s heart. Having the box within arm’s reach, I finished the rest of that dozen by noon.

The donuts were one thing, but Parker was constantly supplying me with snacks throughout the day. He’d brought me homemade blueberry muffins and brown butter chocolate chip cookies. He’d made me buttery croissants, decadent fudge brownies, and Oreo cheesecake bites. I wondered if he was making his way through a cookbook.

“It’s just a hobby,” he said offhandedly when I mentioned he didn’t have to bring me so many treats. “I guess I got carried away.”

“You just always bring so much. I hope you know I’m not expecting you to bring something every single day. I don’t want you to feel put out.”

“It’s just how I unwind,” he said. “Before I moved here, I had three roommates. Now that I live alone, I don’t have anyone else to share them with. I’m really sorry for assuming you wanted them.”

“Whoa!” I interjected. “I never said I didn’t want them.” This made him laugh. I didn’t mind the baked goods. I woke up salivating thinking about what new thing he’d have for me to munch on, but it was never just a sampling of his work. The portions were huge. When he showed up with his reusable containers, it always brought to mind something that would normally be placed in the breakroom for everyone in the office to sample—like a baker’s dozen of white chocolate raspberry mini-Bundt cakes or an entire pan of M&M Rice Krispie Treats.

The baked goods were just the cherry on top of having an excellent assistant. He was definitely the best one I’d ever had, a really fast learner for sure, but his competence as an office worker was second to his ability to cater to my often insatiable hunger. A month of Parker’s special treatment was damaging to my waistline. Being catered to by him turned me on beyond belief, and it was something new for me. In my past relationships, my love of food was never celebrated. Parker’s eyes seemed to light up when I munched on whatever he brought me. “It’s not too chocolatey?” he’d asked, pushing another confection my way. It was never too chocolatey. It was always perfect, just like him.

He greeted me with baked goods each morning and made sure to say goodbye before heading out every evening, carrying with him an empty Tupperware container or pie dish. Aside from the extra thousand-plus calories a day I was inhaling from his delicious goodies, he always made sure to have lunch delivered for me.

He talked to me more than any of my other assistants ever had. Almost like he was trying to get to know me on a more personal level. It had me looking forward to going to work, a feeling I hadn’t had in quite a while. It might have been unintentional, but Parker’s interest, even if it was just platonic, was boosting my ego. My old assistants barely ever looked in my direction, but this guy wanted to know what my favorite movies were and what I liked to do for fun. This attention from him was electrifying. My brain knew being this infatuated with him was no good, but my heart (and my stomach) didn’t care.

Even now, none of the interns or other assistants ever talked to me unless absolutely necessary. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a topic of conversation. They all definitely talked about me. I was big, yes. But I also had a resting serious face. Combined with my intimidating frame, they thought of me as some sort of beast. I once made an intern cry during a pitch meeting because I “looked like I was going to bite her head off.” I now made more of an effort to smile, even when there was no reason to. I also tried to ignore the implications of this, considering I was one of four black men on staff.

To the other execs, I was more of the office joke. I was younger than most of them by fifteen years, so they viewed me as some sort of kid brother. It was always a crack here or a joke there. When I landed the Nike account they all thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen in the history of the world.

“Andy?” one of them had guffawed, barely able to get out what he wanted to say. “When was the last time you saw the inside of a gym? And Nike went with your pitch?”  

But it was something I had become accustomed to; all throughout school I was the big guy people joked about or avoided. Adults always thought I was with the wrong group of kids in elementary school because I was a head taller than the other boys. As if I wasn’t already too big, I had another growth spurt the summer before freshman year of high school. At fourteen my dad began teaching me how to lift weights. My body developed rapidly, and it took me a long time to get comfortable with those changes. By the time I was eighteen, I was larger than my father, who was by no means a small man. My weight sort of leveled out in my early twenties, and I graduated college at my current height and 270 pounds.

Joining the workforce was frightening, yet liberating. I had disposable income and the ability to make my own life decisions. I began working where I was currently employed as a copywriter two months after getting my degree. Lots of late nights and hard work helped me rise in the ranks. I was promoted to the executive level three years ago, and had run through five assistants in that time. I was now thirty-two, unmarried, and a little stifled.

I spent most of my time working. I hadn’t had a hookup in literal years, and to be frank, I didn’t see one happening in the near future. I used to be able to lean into being the big, burly guy who’d had one too many beers. I walked the line between dad-bod and straight-up fat guy for as long as I could before I was promoted. Being an executive meant a lot more responsibility and a lot less free time. My tri-weekly lifting sessions were now a thing of the past. I thought I could stand to lose a few pounds then, but now I was over 350 pounds.

Having Parker as my assistant only exacerbated my feelings of loneliness (and horniness). He probably didn’t even know I was gay and very much into his tight slacks and obedient disposition. The last month had been amazing, yet torturous.

“I have your forms, Mr. Reynolds.”

I told him he could call me Andy, or even just Andrew, but he never did. It was about lunch time and I was getting a bit restless. Maybe I’d run off my other assistants with my multiple food orders throughout the day. I seemed to simply exist in a state of hunger. I was also slightly convinced I couldn’t do my best work on an empty stomach.

I looked at Parker standing in front of me. His dark brown hair was short and very stylish. My hair was cut in a neat fade and my facial hair was thick. I’d kept a standing appointment with my barber every Sunday morning at ten for the last five years.

“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand to take the manila folder that contained the forms from him. Like some cheesy porno with ridiculous circumstances to set up a sexual scenario, the folder fell through my fingers, all the papers scattering on my office floor.

“Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed. “That’s my bad.” He bent over to pick up the documents, noticing there were more papers to gather than he first realized. He then got on his knees in front of my desk and once again I got to take in his beautiful ass. The fabric of his slacks pulled tight against his butt. His back was slightly arched, as if advertising himself to me. What I wouldn’t give to be bucking my hips behind him. I thought about fucking him constantly, and it had become an obsession. I’d definitely gotten the vibe that he was gay, but I had some serious doubts he’d ever want to hook up with me. “Here you go,” he said, hopping to his feet and handing me the papers.

Almost like it was trying to embarrass me and purposely kill my arousal, my stomach growled.

“Sorry,” I said. I couldn’t believe how hot my face got. My stomach growling was only going to draw attention to the fact that I was twice his size. The portion of goodies I received from Parker at the start of the day was on the smaller side, so that hadn’t helped to dull my hunger pains.

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “It’s lunchtime.” I felt my face go hot once more.

“Yeah, I guess I am kind of hungry.”

“You’re a pretty big guy. I get it.” He fidgeted with one of the buttons on his dress shirt. “Do you, maybe, want to take lunch with me today?” 

“I’ve never eaten with one of my assistants before,” I said, in disbelief he wanted to spend time with me outside of the office.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can just pick something up for you if you’d prefer—”

I stood quickly, not wanting to pass up any opportunity to talk to him about topics not related to copies or signatures or meetings. My gut shook a bit with the momentum. The buttons had given me a difficult time when getting dressed, and I needed to get some new shirts.

“I’m free for lunch,” I exclaimed. “We can go now.”

There were a ton of restaurants in the downtown area. I asked what he wanted to eat and he deferred to me, claiming he wanted me to get whatever I was craving. If I were able to get whatever I was craving, it would be the Parker Jeong meal, extra sauce. He’d probably think that was so cringe. I sighed to myself.

“There’s this place called The Coop,” I said, giving my second choice for lunch. “They serve Nashville style hot chicken.”

At the restaurant he got a normal sized portion of food for a normal sized person, and I wanted to be good, but I needed to replace the lust I was feeling with something else, and that something else was two Nashville hot chicken sandwiches, a large fry, baked beans, coleslaw, and a strawberry mint frozen lemonade.

He didn’t even bat an eye, offering to pick up our trays while I waited at the table. I knew he was just being nice to me because I was his boss. I’d paid for the food, so he was probably just still in assistant mode.

“Order up,” he said, returning to where we sat, setting my overstuffed tray in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking in his tray with three tenders and a medium fry.

“Do you like to eat here a lot?” he asked, sipping from his unsweetened iced tea. Coming from someone else, that would’ve felt like a jab, but from him it just felt conversational.

“I do like this place a lot. Especially for the downtown area. The portions aren’t skimpy and it tastes pretty good too.”

“What other places do you like?”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” I said, digging into my first sandwich. “There’s Tripp’s for seafood, Curry House for Indian, Miss Janie’s for BBQ, oh yeah—Sub Daddy has these huge hoagies. Best in the city. And they’re open late!”

“Sub Daddy?” he laughed. “What kind of name is that?”

“Well, maybe they’re leaning into the innuendo?”

“Hmm, maybe,” he said, looking down at his tenders. “We’ll have to eat there together soon, though Dom Daddies are actually more my speed.”

Was that directed towards me? There was no chance. Absolutely no way. He wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t coming on to me. But still—even if his comment meant nothing, I could feel myself getting hard. 

I took another big bite of my sandwich, trying not to fuck things up. If I lost another assistant they’d probably open an investigation or something to figure out what I did to keep running them off.

“So, um, how’s your food?” I asked, deflecting. 

The vibes never quite got back on track after that. I was too wound up and way too invested in my food. If my inability to hold conversation wasn’t enough to scare him off, me stuffing my face for fifteen minutes straight surely did the job.

We made our way back to the office and finished up for the day. It was a little after five when Parker peeked his head into my office. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Reynolds.” He hesitated for a moment. “Oh, and thanks for lunch.” 

“No problem. I enjoyed your company.” I did enjoy his company. Even with how poorly I felt things went, it was nice being out in public with him. I had to remind myself it wasn’t a date and only lunch between colleagues.

“About the joke I made,” he started, stepping completely into my office and closing the door. “I am so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon.”

“Don’t even sweat it,” I said, knowing I sent him into this spiral because I was now inept at talking to cute men. Things had been so much easier ten years ago.

“I am gay,” he continued. “I know some people feel a type of way about that sort of thing. I just don’t want it to ruin our relationship.”

“You don’t need to disclose your sexual orientation, there are policies in place to protect people from discrimination in the workplace and I’d never treat you poorly because of something like that because—”

“Because you’re a really good boss, I know. I’m sorry I even thought you’d treat me differently. It’s just—the real world is way different than a college campus.”

I was about to come out to him. What did I even think was going to happen? Were we going to fuck, me taking control as his sought after Dom Daddy? I was being ridiculous. Of course he was concerned about his career. 

“Are you going to be much longer?” he asked.

“Yeah, I have to catch up on some work for that supercenter presentation next week.” He started to take off his jacket. “No need to do that, Parker.”

“I can help,” he said. 

“No, that’s okay. Don’t ruin your evening,” I said, still feeling embarrassed by this whole debacle. I could use his help. The copy room was unbearably small and I didn’t want to have to keep squeezing in and out of there. 

“But if you need my help, I can help.” He smiled. “It’s my job. I’m your assistant.” 

I was glad he wanted to help me. He was truly the best assistant I‘d ever had and not just because he had such a fantastic ass. I didn’t want to come across as demanding or difficult to work with, but selfishly, I wanted to spend more time with him.

“Well, okay,” I relented. “As long as you’re free.” 

“I’ll order us something from Sub Daddy,” he said, heading back out to his station. “It’s been hours since lunch. You can’t focus on an empty stomach.”

After that, we worked late a lot, and went to lunch together even more often. He was more than willing to try new restaurants with me, always encouraging me to order as much as I wanted. He always offered to treat me, but I never let him. What sense did that make? He only ever ate a fourth of what I did.

His personality was pleasant, which didn’t make it easier for me to stifle my crush on him. Who wouldn’t be into him? He was smart, hardworking, fun, and considerate. He knew how to bake and never made me feel bad about eating what I wanted. I had gotten into the habit of eating more and more when I was around him. I hardly noticed until all the food was gone. I found myself to be less nervous when I was stuffing my face. It felt less likely that I’d say something dumb. When I was 70 pounds lighter, I was way more willing to flirt or say something corny to make a guy laugh. But now I felt like everything I said or did seemed desperate. And so instead of talking, I stuffed my face. In the two months Parker had been working with me, I’d gained ten pounds.

On our late nights, I always told him he could leave but he never did. Not once.

That was enough to keep my delusional fantasies about him going.

He started mentioning clubs and bars, asking if I’d ever want to go with. I figured it was just a gesture, and I was way too rusty to ever take him up on the offer, but maybe one day I could. The more I got to know him, the more I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in me too.

My pants had gotten even tighter; I needed some new ones. My thighs filled them out completely and my ass was getting pretty big too. I’d never gotten around to getting those new shirts, and now I needed new pants. I had to face it. I was fat, and with my habits, I was just going to keep getting fatter.

It was late October, and one of the other execs was celebrating his fiftieth. His assistant and a few of the interns had organized a little office party for him after lunch. I’d already eaten these really delicious chocolate covered pretzel sticks Parker made me and something he’d picked up for me from The Coop for lunch.

Everyone filed into our largest conference room. There were a few toasts and it was a decent time overall. Then the cake was revealed. It was from a nice bakery near our office that people always used when doing festive things like this. 

It was time to admit to myself that I loved sweets, and with Parker’s kind gestures, I had tried tons of things I’d never eaten before.

I moseyed on over to the cake, planning to only have a piece. Just enough to be polite to the planning committee. But it was delicious. It was a strawberry lemon layer cake, the perfect marriage between tart and sweet flavors. The lemon cake layers were separated by a delightful strawberry compote (a term I’d learned from Parker), which was also incorporated into the rich buttercream frosting. 

By the time I finished my (substantial) piece, Parker discreetly replaced my empty plate with another that had an even larger slice. He did this three more times while we mingled with others from the office. I must have ended up having a third of that cake to myself. 

Returning to my office after the celebration gave me time to reflect. I tried to get some work done, but it was hard to focus, especially with the buttons on my yet to be replaced shirt and slacks straining.

What was Parker trying to do? Was he simply being an attentive assistant or was he subtly making fun of me? Or maybe I was just too in my head and he was attracted to me? He’d never done or said anything that alluded to disliking me because of my size. But that didn’t mean he was attracted to me because of it either. I looped through variations of the same arguments over and over.

I must’ve overanalyzed those different scenarios for a good fifteen minutes before shifting my focus back to work. I’d already sent Parker to the art department to collect some mock-ups we’d need, but I couldn’t move forward in my current task without making some photocopies. 

I was going to have to face the dreaded copy room.

Minutes later, I stood outside of the copy room. I paused momentarily to psych myself up before proceeding. The room was not spacious to begin with, but with multiple built-in cabinets full of office supplies on one wall and a line of photocopiers on the other, the only space for a person to move was a narrow strip of floor down the middle of the room. I walked up the aisle to one of the machines in the center of the room.

So far, so good. I made one of my copies, and proceeded to the next. Still good. I moved on to my last document. That’s when the machine jammed.

“Fuck me,” I said to myself, sighing. I took a step back, my ass already brushing against a cabinet. I leaned forward, opening the side panel and noticing the jammed paper immediately. This would be an easy fix, thankfully. I was bending my knees slightly, and I could feel the fabric of my slacks pulling tight against my beefy behind. It might have just been my anxiety, but I swear I could feel the stitch on the rise of my pants stretching to its limit. I made a mental note to myself that at this point some new items in my wardrobe were necessary, not optional.

I removed the jammed paper, made my last copy, and swiftly made my exit from that claustrophobic space. Bull in a china shop, meet Andrew Reynolds in the copy room. 

I paused for a moment, as I could hear Parker’s voice.

“I really should be getting back.”

“Come on, Parker. You can’t actually like working with Andy.” I backpedaled before I could be seen. It was Antoinette, one of the office gossips. She’d been close with my previous administrative assistant.

“Yeah, I do,” Parker said, sounding somewhat bothered. “He’s really very nice. And super smart.” Whoa. He was actually sticking up for me. I could hardly believe it.

“You’re gay, right?”

What a segue. Antoinette was likely upset he wasn’t down to badmouth me, ready to move the conversation in a direction she found more interesting.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” he said, his tone slightly more annoyed. 

“You don’t like him, do you?” Antoinette pushed. “Because you’re probably barking up the wrong tree with that one. He’s never been with anyone since I started here, and it’s been seven years.”

“Mr. Reynolds might just be a private person. He could have a wife and kids at home. You don’t know.” At this, she laughed.

“I highly doubt that.” Parker likely made a face, as she then said, “Now don’t give me that look. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I hadn’t realized how much you looked up to Andy.” She couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic.

“Like I said,” he reiterated. “I really should be getting back.”

“Okay, wait. I only bring it up because there’s someone else in the office who is interested in you.” She sounded like some sort of matchmaker.

“Toni, please.” He sounded even more irritated. “I don’t think my love life is any of your business, and I don’t need you to hook me up with anyone.”

“Mark is the one that wanted me to talk to you. He really likes you,” Antoinette continued. Mark was a copywriter that had started two or three years after I did. He’d never gotten over the fact that I’d been promoted and he hadn’t.

“I’m flattered, truly,” Parker replied. “But please tell him I’m not interested.”

“Fine, but here’s his card anyway.” There was a slight pause. “But you’ve got to be real with me. Working with Andy must be hard. I heard from his last assistant that he was so demanding, and not about work matters. She spent most of her time placing food orders and picking up his take-out.” She laughed. “Did you see all that cake he ate at Dave’s party this afternoon? That’s why he’s not with somebody. Who wants to date a pig?” I felt my stomach tighten in embarrassment.

“Watch how you speak about my boss,” Parker responded. “This conversation is over.”

“Fine, I swear—” I could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum of the hallway as she walked away from the corner in which they’d been speaking. I could then hear Parker’s steps as he headed towards the copy room. 

I froze.

What could I do? There was nowhere to hide. I was in the world’s smallest copy room, and even if there was somewhere to hide, there was no way I’d fit into that hiding spot. I just stood there, ready to face the awkwardness. He turned the corner quickly, bumping into my stomach.

He stumbled back, almost losing his balance. He dropped all the samples from the art department. I could feel that tight feeling in my stomach again, my mouth going dry. He must have known I was listening.

“Mr. Reynolds?” he mused. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” He knelt down and started picking up the papers.

“No apologies, please. It’s my fault.” 

I bent over quickly to help him and there was a loud ripping sound. The same seam in my pants that had worried me moments before gave way. I could tell immediately that my pants had split down the back.

I stood up straight immediately. I could feel his eyes on my face. 

“Andrew,” he said softly. 

No, not the pity. I could feel it coming, and that would make me feel worse. I pushed past him, leaving him alone in that tiny room to gather the scattered papers. I waddled awkwardly back to my office to grab my jacket. I didn’t want the pants to rip anymore than they already had. I needed to get some new slacks. 

Taking a moment, I looked in the mirror on the back of my office door. My blue button up shirt didn’t hide my large, round belly. I’d really let things get bad these last few months. I had completely lost all restraint since meeting Parker. I was happy-eating when he brought me his baked goods. I was nervous-eating when we went out to lunch together. I was sad-eating at home when I thought about how much it sucked to have unrequited feelings. 

My love handles sloped away from my torso down over the side of my pants. My pants looked like they’d been painted on my meaty thighs. When did my face get so round? If I shaved my beard how many chins would I find? More than the one I remembered when I started working here ten years ago? I had once had a square jaw, but I knew now it would be backed by a second chin, with a new layer of fat likely being formed behind that. My round cheeks made my eyes look smaller than they were in my youth. I even had a light dabbling of sweat on my forehead from my dash back into my office.

“Mr. Reynolds?” Parker called gently as he knocked at my door. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” I said, speaking slowly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he inquired. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I need to head out for an errand, so please make sure you reschedule the rest of my meetings this afternoon.” 

“Do you need to go shopping?” he asked. 

I could have leaped from my office window—and we were on the twentieth floor. Any chance of ever being with Parker was surely ruined. I needed to rip off the Band-Aid and get this interaction over with. I opened my office door. 

“I could help you pick some things out,” he suggested. “I am your assistant. And I know it’s a stereotype, but I have a pretty good fashion sense.” He was trying so hard to be nice to me. 

“This is my problem.” I was still speaking slowly, forcing the words out in a way that likely came off as short. “This is a personal matter, not something to do with work.”

He didn’t say anything. He turned and walked over to his desk, rummaging in one of the drawers. He held a tiny sewing kit in his hands as he strode back over to where I stood. He placed his hand on my stomach, pushing me back into the office before closing the door.

“I understand you would rather shop alone, but I’m not going to let my boss walk around with a split in his pants.” What was he expecting me to do? Strip? There was no way.

“Parker—”

“We don’t have to make a big deal out of this, sir,” he said. “Just take off your pants and hand them here. I can mend them in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Really, that’s not necessary.”

He just stood there, looking at me expectantly. I didn’t want to walk around exposed until I could get to a clothing store. It would only take him fifteen minutes. I took a deep breath and unbuckled my belt. It was a brown leather material that matched my loafers, which I’d slid out of before shimmying out of my too-tight navy slacks.

I could see myself in the mirror behind my office door again. Here I was in my boxer briefs, Parker standing right in front of me, and it wasn’t a scenario I’d previously imagined. He crouched down in front of me, grabbing the pants so I wouldn’t have to bend over.

He inspected the rip for a moment. “This is perfect. It’s not frayed or anything.”

“You really think you can fix them?”

“A temporary fix, yes.” He walked towards one of the extra chairs in my office and had a seat. Things were silent for a few minutes as he threaded the needle and got started on the repair. I’d taken a seat behind my desk and watched him work.

His skin was so smooth, his lips kissably full, his nose a little large for his face.

“I can see why these split,” he said, not looking up from his work. His words abruptly hit me and filled the silence in a way that sat heavy on my mind.

“Me too.” He still hadn’t looked up at me. He just continued mending my pants. 

“I knew I needed new ones, and I—” The words got caught in my throat. I was already embarrassed, so maybe it was time for me to just speak honestly, but speaking honestly kind of felt like admitting defeat. It felt like I was giving up on taking things in an intimate direction with Parker. “I’ve been putting it off. They probably could’ve held on a bit longer, but I’ve put on some weight recently.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Guys like you don’t get it. You could have anyone you wanted.”

“What if I wanted you, Andrew?”

He finally looked up from his work. I must’ve been looking at him stone faced, because his bravado faltered almost immediately.

“Mr. Reynolds—I’m so sorry. That was out of line.”

Parker’s confession allowed me to push past that voice in my head that explained away all the things he did as platonic. He liked me. He wanted me. He’d said so himself.

Before the self-doubt set in, I had to shoot my shot. I’d sulk about my split pants late at night years from now, but right at this moment I refused to return to that negative place. He wanted a Dom Daddy, and that was a role I was more than willing to play.

“What if I told you I wanted to fuck you right now?” His face reddened considerably. I’d never seen him so worked up before, and that made me more confident. “Since the day I hired you, I’ve thought about what it’d feel like to be inside of that sweet ass.”

“Sir—”

“C’mere,” I said in a low voice. He stood, placing my slacks in the seat he’d gotten up from, and gingerly made his way to where I sat behind my desk. He looked down at me slightly as I sat, but we were essentially still on eye level with one another. I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his lips parted slightly in lust. He pressed his crotch into my gut as he leaned down to kiss me. I could feel his erection through his khakis.

I reached up and palmed his ass, holding a cheek in each hand. He really was stacked back there. He moaned slightly, pressing his dick further into my stomach. We continued kissing, and I pulled him even closer into myself.

I could have kissed him like this for hours, but he pulled away after a few minutes. His palms were pressed against my sagging chest, which sat atop my heavy middle. He slid his hands down my front before resting them on the part of my gut that sat out the farthest. Normally, my first instinct would have been to suck it in, but I realized how useless that would have been. There was no hiding it anymore.

He patted my stomach gently before moving his hands beneath it, lifting it and bouncing it up and down slowly. I could see his hardness through his khakis, so it was clear that he was enjoying himself. If I were to be honest with myself, I was enjoying the belly play too. I’d never had someone focus so intently on my gut before.

I stood up, and he tilted his head back to continue meeting my gaze. I had to play this correctly. I knew he made a joke about liking dominant men, but I wasn’t certain it was actually what he was into.

“Get on your knees,” I said, staring down at him.

“Yes sir.”

He knew what I wanted. He pawed at my underwear until it was around my ankles. My dick bobbed freely now, level with his line of sight. The closer he got to me, the harder I got and the harder it was to see him. He reached up with one hand to hold my belly out of the way and with the other he grabbed the base of my dick.

“Get to work,” I instructed. I grabbed a fistful of his hair as he wrapped his mouth around my dick. It had been a while, but I couldn’t recall a better blow. He was a perfectionist in every sense of the word. His one hand gently massaged the base of my gut as he continued sucking me off. I’d been with people who liked that I wasn’t rail thin, but never with someone like Parker. Everything was adding up. The special treats, the lunches together, the cake at the party this afternoon. He liked me being fat, and I was now fairly certain he wanted me even fatter. “I’m about to cum.”

He didn’t stop his work. He simply slowed his pace, teasing my dick with his tongue in a different way. The switch in sensation caused me to erupt. A heavy stream of cum shot from my dick into his mouth and he made sure to get every last drop. I let go of his hair, stepping back so I could have a seat.

I was panting heavily, my underwear around my ankles, gut rising and falling with each deep breath I took. He looked up at me from his place on the floor. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. I could still see his erection through his khakis. Damn, he was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. I could hardly believe he was experiencing such intense lust over me.

“You’re something else,” I said, still catching my breath. “And I can’t believe it, but I’d kill for another piece of that cake right now.”

That had him up on his feet, speed-walking from my office and back to the conference room. He was so out of it, he’d probably run to that bakery to get me another piece if he had to.

This shift in our relationship was going to be interesting.

I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen immediately following our initial sexual encounter, but we went about our weekends like nothing had changed. After eating one of the final slices of that cake from the office party, I left early to purchase some new clothing items. He texted me, and I replied, but neither of us mentioned what had happened.

So Monday morning came and I had spent the entire weekend eating optimistically. I thought about how much he’d want me to be eating good. At one point, I googled “gay fat fetish” and found there was a whole world of people not only into big guys, but into big guys getting even bigger. Maybe he’d bring it up, but now I wanted to test the waters a little. What sort of things would get him going? I was excited to find out. Monday morning, I was hard the entire commute to work thinking about demolishing whatever Parker planned to put in front of me. 

I walked into the elevator, pressing the button that would lead me to the twentieth floor. I noticed Parker making his way toward the elevators. Just seeing him existing in the world made me so fucking happy. I almost didn’t even notice that Mark was right next to him. I hit the door open button quickly, wanting to be near Parker as soon as possible, even if that meant sharing the space with Mark. The doors stayed open, and they both got on.

“Good Morning, Mr. Reynolds.” He smiled up at me. He was carrying a tote bag, and like some sort of sugar-addicted bloodhound, I was almost certain I could smell cinnamon. 

“Parker, hey,” I said, covering my crotch with my bag. Just hearing him say my name was turning me on, giving me a semi. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Hello Andrew,” Mark said. To be completely honest, I’d blocked him out almost immediately. He and I weren’t on the best terms, especially after my promotion.

“Hey Mark.”

“Are you still hitting the gym?” he asked. “Since you got that promotion, I’ve noticed a change in your appearance. I’m sure you’re eating well on that executive salary.”

“I do have a hand in that,” Parker said plainly. “Mr. Reynolds is very kind to indulge my personal baking hobby.”

“But still,” Mark pressed. “Sometimes we’ve got to push ourselves, you know? Once you hit thirty it takes more effort to stay in shape.”

“I think he looks great,” Parker offered, turning to look at Mark. He gave him an obvious once over, his eyes traveling from the top of his head all the way to his shoes. “Do you work out, Mark?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” Mark responded proudly. “Six days a week.”

“Really?” Parker inquired. “I’d have never thought that.”

The man was too stunned to speak.

We all stood silent, the whir of the elevator’s mechanisms the only source of sound. The elevator finally stopped on our floor. Parker and I went towards my office while Mark made his way to his cubicle. Parker placed the tote bag on his desk and I stopped for a moment.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, giving a knowing smile.

“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”

“You’re something else.”

“I’m nothing special,” he said, removing two Tupperware containers from the tote bag. “So today you have options. You could have some millionaire shortbread bars or carrot cake cinnamon rolls.”

“Or? You act like I’m not going to polish off both of these containers before we head out for lunch.”

“Uh—well, I—I didn’t think you’d want—”

He looked up at me in surprise, like he’d been found out. I’d known Parker for a couple of months now, and I’d never seen him so flustered. It made me weirdly satisfied. He wanted me to eat? He wanted me to put on a few pounds? If he kept blowing me like he had last week, I’d eat whatever he wanted for the rest of my life.

“I bought some new pants, so I can probably keep indulging for a little while. I need my assistant to make sure I don’t go hungry. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, sir,” he said. “Not a problem at all, sir.”

“I didn’t think it would be.” I grabbed both containers and went into my office, peeling off both lids and diving into the baked goods with unabashed enthusiasm. Over that first hour of the day, I ate a dozen shortbread bars and six hefty cinnamon rolls. 

Once I’d finished both desserts, I sat back at my desk. I felt my chair sag, groaning slightly as I allowed my bulk to settle into the seat. This was so unhinged. What was happening to me? Maybe it was all the sugar, but I was in some sort of stupor. My only thought was how I wanted Parker between my legs again, his hands all over my gut. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I must’ve sat there for about ten minutes before there was a knock at my door. “Mr. Reynolds?”

“Come in.” Parker opened the door and walked up to my desk. I watched him survey the scene. I laughed a little to myself at the shocked expression on his face as he took in both containers sitting empty in front of me.

“You already finished the–the–the shortbread bars?”

“And the cinnamon rolls,” I added. “They were both phenomenal. You’ve got quite the talent.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I only wish I’d had some milk to wash it all down with.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.”

“There is something you could do for me right now,” I said. He looked back at my office door, which he’d left open. He went over to the door and closed it quietly.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”

“You could get that ass over here, for starters.”

He made his way to where I sat behind my desk, like he had on Friday. We looked at one another for a moment, both taking in the moment. It probably wasn’t smart to fuck my assistant before 10 AM on a Monday, but I’d spent nearly two years involuntarily celibate.

“Get undressed.”

He didn’t question me. He immediately began unbuttoning his crisp, white dress shirt. He tossed it on my desk and then peeled his undershirt off over his head. He shimmied out of his navy-colored chinos. He was in nothing but a pair of stylish briefs. It was obvious he worked out, as his quads bulged with muscle as did his arms. He had well-defined abs, firm pecs. 

His body was completely opposite to my own. My legs and arms were large, yes, but not defined with muscle as they had been in the past. I’d never had abs in my entire life. My stomach sat heavy in front of me, packed full of sugary snacks. And even though I’d just eaten enough baked goods for a small get-together, I was already thinking about what I’d be having for lunch.

“What’re we doing for lunch?” I asked. His whole face reddened, all the way to his ears. I reached out to pull him closer, so I could feel his body with my mouth. I kissed his chest softly, enjoying his scent in the process. “I asked you what we’re doing for lunch.”

He moaned loudly.

“Last—last week you mentioned you wanted an—an Italian beef from—” I bit his nipple gently, sucking it afterwards. “Big Beef’s.”

“Fuck that sounds good. With extra hot peppers and a cheese sauce on the side.” He pawed at his briefs, exposing himself to me. He had a nice dick, a respectable size. He was getting off on this for sure. I let go of his waist and began to unbutton my own shirt. He watched me intently, still stroking his penis. I tossed it on the desk with his clothing items.

He paused his masturbatory efforts to help me remove my undershirt. His briefs were now around his ankles and he pressed his dick into my gut. I grabbed at his ass, lightly teasing his hole with my finger as he grinded against me. He didn’t last long after that, coming all over my bloated stomach. He took a step back. Looking down, I could see his cum glistening as it coated the fuzz of my belly. “You’re not done,” I said, lifting my gut to reveal my belt buckle.

A man of excellent intuition, Parker immediately got me out of my pants and gave me some very thorough head.

Oh, and lunch at Big Beef’s that afternoon was stupendous.

We fell into a routine that made every work day well worth it. He was still bringing me his baked goods (beverages now included). We left the office whenever possible to grab a bite to eat during our lunch hour, and when we couldn’t get away he made sure to pick something up for me or to have it delivered. But the best part had to be our sexual escapades. I’d had nearly every part of his body in my mouth at least once. And he was excellent at taking direction. I was pretty sure at this point that he craved it, being told what to do. He was my good boy, doing what I requested, often going above and beyond like there was a chance of being promoted.

From the end of October to the start of the winter holidays, he and I were completely engrossed with one another. Although, even with how intense things had been within the four walls of my office, we had yet to move beyond them.

It was now the second week of December. I was nearing 400 pounds, a thought that was slightly frightening to me. I’d never been this big in my entire life. People around the office had taken notice of my rapid weight gain. It was the elephant in the room. But the food was good, and the sex mind-blowing. I was also intoxicated by Parker’s adoration. With each pound I gained, he seemed to get more and more excited to service me. I wondered how much longer my wardrobe would last before needing to be updated again.

“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds.” I looked up from the email I was drafting. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Yeah? What is it?” I inquired, wondering what it was Parker had been mulling over. He was shifting his weight back and forth, nervously smiling in my direction like the day I hired him.

“Well, my parents bought me these tickets to a musical a few weeks ago, and I know that it’s last minute, but I was really hoping you would come with me to see it.”

“A musical?”

“What can I say?” he offered, shrugging slightly. “I’m as stereotypical as they come.”

“When is it?” I asked.

“Tomorrow.” A Saturday.

Was Parker trying to take things to the next level? This was an exciting development. I would love to spend time with him outside of working hours. I could only imagine how much fun we’d have late into the evening post dinnertime.

“If it’s too much, I understand.”

Too much? Not at all. We both wanted more. It was like a weight had been lifted from me (metaphorically, of course). The office sexcapades were nice, there was no doubt about that, but he too wanted to be more than just a hook-up.

“You just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

He laughed.

“I’m kind of obsessed, can’t you tell?”

“I love being adored,” I said, smiling at him playfully. “And now I’m really looking forward to this musical tomorrow. What’s the runtime? Over two hours, I’m sure. I’ll probably need to eat something beforehand.”

“I’ll make a reservation,” he declared enthusiastically, always delighted at an opportunity to get me eating. I was only half-serious with my comment about needing to eat beforehand, but I wasn’t so sure I’d make it the two and a half hours without a meal prior to the curtain rising. I felt incredibly lucky. We’d be getting dinner and seeing a show (and hopefully having even more fun at one of our apartments after).

Once he made the reservation, he emailed over all the info—the restaurant, the reservation time, the name of the theater, the showtime. I could hardly wait. I’d be counting the milliseconds until then. 

The next evening, I dressed to meet Parker for our date. I wore a pair of dark jeans and some Nikes. When I first landed that account, they’d sent over at least ten different pairs. I had lots of dress shirts that fit fairly well since I re-upped, but I wanted to be a little more casual. I found a burgundy crew neck in the back of my dresser that had been a staple in my wardrobe last winter. I pulled it on and found myself shocked at how it fit. I figured there’d be some resistance, but the fabric clung to my plump chest and protruding belly in a way that was much more form-fitting than I anticipated. I tugged at the bottom trying to pull it down to cover the entirety of my stomach. If I moved my arms too much, it exposed some of my brown skin, even though I was also wearing an undershirt.

My first inclination was to change. I wouldn’t have normally wanted to draw attention to my size. But I knew what Parker liked, and I loved pressing his buttons, so I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys, deciding to keep on the sweater. I hoped I wouldn’t come to regret my outfit choice later on.

I was right on time to Haraboji’s, and as I entered the restaurant, I noticed my perfectly punctual assistant had already beaten me to the establishment.

“Mr. Reynolds, over here!” He waved at me from a seat at the bar. I felt silly for being this excited, considering we ate together in restaurants every other day, but this was no work-lunch. This was a Saturday night dinner. A date.

“Parker, hey,” I said, smiling down at my companion for the evening. He was still wearing his jacket, a stylish, olive-green duffle coat. He had on a pair of platform Chelsea boots and dark chinos. “Please, call me Andy, or Andrew—even Drew would be fine.” 

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I guess we aren’t in the office.”

“That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he replied. “I’ve wanted to eat here with you for months.”

“I’ve heard this place is really good.”

“Have you ever had Korean barbecue before?” he asked. “I haven’t been to a Korean restaurant since I moved here.”

“I haven’t, but you know I’ll try anything. I trust you to make sure I have something tasty.”

After that the hostess called Parker’s name and we were seated. It was pretty crowded, every table filled. In front of us was a little grilling station. Our waiter came and Parker took the reins, ordering what seemed like a lot of food for just two people. He asked for bulgogi, pork belly, garlic butter chicken, and brisket. He also ordered fried seaweed rolls and tteokbokki. Our waiter brought out a lot of little dishes with different vegetables on them.

“These are banchan—um, side dishes,” Parker explained. “They’re really good with the grilled meats. That one is cucumber, that one is potato, and that one is zucchini.”

“And that one is kimchi.”

“Yes, exactly!”

Our waiter returned with another worker to assist him. One of them held our appetizers, the other numerous plates of raw meat on a serving platter. Once all the plates were set out in front of us, it seemed truly excessive. Parker got to work immediately, oiling the grill and placing meat on it strategically. As things were cooked he piled them high on my plate. Everything tasted great and I followed every suggestion he gave me. “Eat this with that,” he’d say, hyper focused on his grilling. “Ooo, you’ve got to try that with this dipping sauce.”

Halfway through the meal, I noticed that he was no longer eating. I seemed to be his main priority. I was now regretting my earlier boldness when getting dressed for this outing. My sweater rose slightly on my stomach exposing the light layer of dark hair on my underbelly. Parker didn’t stop either, making sure to cook every piece of meat that had been provided to us.

“There’s also Korean fried chicken on the menu,” he said, having just finished grilling the last bit of bulgogi and pork belly. “They come in orders of four.”

I groaned slightly, sitting back in my seat and resting my hand on the top of my gut.

That was when the waiter returned, taking in my gorged state his face reddened on my behalf and he focused his attention on Parker. “Is there anything else I can get for you guys?”

“Yes, we wanted a double order of the fried chicken wings and a bottle of peach soju.”

The waiter glanced in my direction and then back at Parker. He probably couldn’t believe we were ordering more food. I couldn’t believe we were ordering more food, but my date was a man on a mission. We did have about forty minutes before we needed to be at the theater, but I still thought he was cutting it close.

“I’ll put that in right now.” I waited for our server to leave before speaking. 

“I’m spilling out of my sweater and you're still shoving food in my direction.”

“Andy,” he said innocently. “You don’t want to be hungry while the show is going on. You said so yourself, remember?”

“How considerate of you,” I responded, sitting up. I grabbed my fork and started in on the last bit of meat he’d put on my plate. “And I can’t wait to thank you at my place after the show.”

After dinner at Haraboji’s, we made our way to the theater for the musical. I’d already parked my Buick Enclave in a parking garage on the same street as the restaurant. He informed me that he picked this restaurant not only because he’d been wanting to try it, but also because it was only a block away from where we’d be seeing the show.

I was so full I didn’t feel like doing anything, especially walking. I was perspiring a little bit so I left my jacket open to air myself out. I could feel a cool breeze on my stomach, but I just ignored it. Parker was leading the way, glancing my way every so often to check me out. If his parents hadn’t gone through the trouble of buying him these tickets, we’d already be halfway to my place.

We made it to the lobby and the worker scanned the tickets on Parker’s phone. There was about ten minutes until the show would start so we made our way to our seats. This was where things got awkward.

Personally, when purchasing tickets in advance, I always tried to get the seat closest to the aisle. But these two seats were right in the middle of a row. Not everyone was in their seats yet, but we’d still need to shimmy past five or so people. Parker seemed somewhat oblivious to this issue, and in his defense, he likely never faced this sort of problem. Being bigger meant anticipating any obstacle. Would there be a lot of walking? Would there be a lot of stairs? How sturdy were the seats? I’d always thought about these things, but having gained fifty pounds in the last five months created even more complications I needed to be ready for.

“Excuse us,” Parker said, making his way into the row. He got by the first person with ease, whereas the man needed to stand up for me and press himself as far back into his seat as possible. Even then, my gut pushed up against him as I made my way past him. This happened four more times until we made it to our seats.

I sat in the chair and it creaked loudly. It was a really tight squeeze. This was not a theater that had been updated this century. It had probably been forty or fifty years since there had been any type of alteration to the seating. The armrests could not be lifted, so I sat there as they dug into the sides of my bloated gut. Fuck, I thought. Maybe we shouldn’t have gone so hard at dinner.

“Isn’t there like a special section for bigger people?” the woman next to me asked the man she was with. She was at least trying to whisper, but considering the fact I was sitting right next to her that didn’t do much to keep me from hearing her. “It’s just, these seats are so small, you know? Even for someone regularly sized.”

I’d been feeling pretty good before all of this happened. I was used to people making comments. But something about this made me really think hard about what I’d been doing to my body. I was already fat. I’d already had horrible eating habits. But should I have let this thing with Parker push me so completely into gluttony? I was the one who had to deal with the wardrobe malfunctions and too-small theater seats. 

Parker was a great person and a masterful lover, but he was also ten years younger than me. If this dalliance were to end, he could go about his life unchanged. But me? How much bigger would I be by the time he got bored of me?

“Andy,” Parker said, his hand on my thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. This wasn’t the time or place to share my thoughts with him.

“I didn’t pick the seats,” he explained. “Next time, I’ll make sure that we’re on the end.” 

“Thanks.” I exhaled, feeling a little better. Him saying that didn’t absolve all of my fears, but it reminded me of how thoughtful Parker was. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like to be my size, but he did try to consider how my size affected my day-to-day life.

The lights dimmed and the show started a few minutes later. It was pretty funny and the music was enjoyable. I never thought a musical adaptation of an 80’s fantasy-horror-comedy would be any good, but I’d see it again if given the chance. After the cast took their bows we waited for our row to clear out before we got up. I could tell he really enjoyed himself, so that made the two and half hours in that seat from hell worth it.

“I Ubered here from my apartment,” he said once we were outside.

“I’m in that parking garage by the restaurant,” I said. “I could give you a ride home.”

“You did say you needed to thank me at dinner.”

“Oh, I know just how to thank you.” It was nearly ten, and aside from the people who were also leaving the theater, there weren’t a ton of people around. I grabbed Parker’s hand and we went to my car. I asked him where he lived and other than that I just listened to all the fun facts he had about the production. We were soon out front. “You’re coming up, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.” I parked and we made our way towards the entrance. He led me up some stairs to his fourth floor apartment. If he lived any higher, we’d have had to call it a night. His place was pretty small, a one bedroom. It was also super neat and tidy. Everything about Parker was that way.

He took off his jacket and hung it in the closet, offering to take mine too in the process. He told me to take a seat on the couch. I sat and realized how little it was. I guess a couch of this size was all he really needed, but it was more like a chair. I filled it up three-fourths of the way.

He carried in a tray with some vanilla oat milk and a container of cookies. He placed it on the coffee table and sat on the remaining one-fourth of sofa. “Consider these as a thank you for a great evening,” he said. “They’re lemon shortbread.”

“You must spend a fortune on butter and eggs.”

“Not at all, I just started buying in bulk when I realized I had someone to bake for.”

“I appreciate getting to eat everything you’ve made for me,” I said, pulling at my sweater, “though I should probably slow down on all the baked goods.” I looked in his direction, wondering how he’d take in that information. He looked a little hurt, a little embarrassed.

“Is everything okay, Andy?” he asked. “With us, I mean. I just thought—”

I could just keep all of these concerns to myself, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It was probably better to have this conversation now instead of later. “I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight since we started sleeping together. I know we haven’t put into words what this is, but I’m pretty sure you’re a feeder—or an encourager—which term is it?” I thought about all the information I found back when I investigated gay fat fetishes a few months ago.

“I think they’re pretty interchangeable.” He wasn’t looking at me. “And I guess that I am, yes.”  He actually looked super pale. Was he scared? Did he think I was upset? I figured he was aware that he’d been found out months ago. He was always so focused on my weight and overfeeding me. His preferences were kind of obvious.

“I’m not upset,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “If I’m being honest, I’m pretty into it.”

He looked up at me, relief overtaking his previously sullen expression. “You are?”

“I think you know I like to eat. And getting bigger is kind of hot when I have someone so into it.”

“I’m into it for sure.”

“My main concern is how serious you are, Parker.” He looked at me intently, waiting for me to continue speaking. “You’re young. You’re still fairly new to the area. When it comes down to it, you’re a hot commodity. Any guy would be lucky to be with you. With how big I was, with how big I’ve gotten, I’m limiting myself. My prospects were slim before, but I’ve probably made the margins even smaller in regards to my marketability.”

“Andrew, I am very serious about you,” he said. “You are the sexiest guy I’ve ever been with. You’re also the biggest guy I've ever been with. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I am willing to do. If you want to lose weight, that’s fine. If you want me to stop with the baking, that’s fine. I just want you. I like you.”

“I like you too. I have since you first started working for me.” Our eyes were locked on one another. This conversation felt so real, so needed. This guy was serious about me. What a relief. “And let’s not be too hasty about the baking. I’ll let you know if we need to slow down, Mr. Feeder.”

This caused his whole face to redden, all the way to his ears. I loved when that happened. It was so funny to see his emotions so clearly. “Now bring that container of cookies over here. I’m hungry.”

Maybe it was reckless of me. Maybe I should’ve taken the out Parker had offered me. But I kept on eating like I had been. I blew past 400 pounds as we entered the new year. He’d flown home for the holidays, so I spent time with my own family. They all showed great concern for how big I’d gotten, but that didn’t stop them from piling my plate high with soul food at Christmas dinner. That was just how my family operated. It’s why I was so big growing up to begin with.

That first Monday back after the winter holidays was nice because we were able to fall back into our normal routine, which included copious amounts of food and a great deal sex. While most people around the office set goals for having a healthier diet or joining a gym, I did nothing of the sort. It was somewhat freeing to know there was no resolution I was bound to break.

Over the first few months of the new year, Parker began spending more and more time at my apartment. Suddenly there was a toothbrush, and then extra pairs of underwear, and then, an item that let me know how serious things had gotten between us, his KitchenAid Stand Mixer.

“You’re here more than at your place,” I said one Saturday evening in April. We’d ordered pizza for dinner, and even though Parker had stopped eating thirty minutes ago, I was still working on an extra-large, tavern-style sausage and pepperoni. I’d already eaten some buffalo wings and a Caesar salad (for balance, of course). “When does your lease end?”

“Well, it ends August of this year.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel it?”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching for another slice. “I’ll pay whatever fee your landlord charges for breaking your lease.”

The next week he moved into my three-bedroom apartment. I had more than enough room for his stuff. Even his dollhouse-sized couch fit comfortably against a wall in the home office. This did mean my office baked goods were a thing of the past. They were never able to last long enough after he prepared them to be brought into work. Since meeting Parker nine months ago, I was now 75 pounds heavier.

Parker and I were going to take a long weekend for Memorial Day. We’d both put in for the day off on Friday and we wouldn’t need to return to the office until Tuesday. I’d rented a house up north, about three hours away. The Thursday before we were to leave, Parker frantically entered my office a little after we returned from lunch.

I was positively beached. We were both looking forward to the weekend and he excitedly ordered for me at Rockin’ Sushi. We had purchased enough sashimi, nigiri, and maki rolls for a party of five or six people.

My belly covered my lap almost to my knees when I sat. I normally didn’t dress so casually for the office, but today I was wearing a polo. The fabric was pulled tight around my stomach and I’d been massaging the sides of my gut before Parker came to find me. If he didn’t seem so distraught, I’d have asked him to take over.

“We can’t go out of town,” he said. “We have to reevaluate your accounts.”

“What?” I asked, my eyes half-open. “I have nine major accounts and twelve smaller ones. That’s more than all the other execs.”

“Yes, that’s true, but—” he stopped talking. He probably felt like he’d been overreacting, but I wanted to make sure his worries were quelled.

“Talk to me.”

“I heard from Mr. Monroe’s assistant, who heard from Mr. Otterly’s assistant, that Mr. Otterly plans to retire at the end of June.” John Otterly was well past the age for retirement. His presence at Hathaway and Associates was really just a formality at this point. He’d been an exec at our agency since the mid-seventies. In his prime, for sure, he was incredible at pulling in clients and coming up with catchy slogans for print ads. Now, he had only one major account for a failing brand of novelty gag-gifts. “They’re looking to promote someone, but they want to make the position more robust by taking some accounts from other executives.”

“Bullshit.”

“Agreed.” He watched me heave myself out of my desk chair. “What should we do?”

“Follow me.”

I might have moved a little bit more slowly these days, but with Parker’s help I’d acquired two new clients in the last nine months and strengthened our agency’s relationship with all my original accounts. I wasn’t just some overweight behemoth who didn’t do any work. I was a heavy hitter. I’d recently had a confidence about myself that, shamefully, came from the idolization and devotion Parker gave to me. I was the biggest I’d ever been, but I didn’t feel ashamed of myself. I was already going to draw attention entering a room so I might as well not give a fuck what people thought.

We stopped outside of William Hathaway’s office, whose grandfather had actually founded Hathaway and Associates almost a century ago. We executives kept things running while he received a great deal of the credit, considering he was only in office two days a week. He did hold a forty-five percent share on the board of directors, which was the largest portion of any member. This meant he had a great deal of influence when the board made the large decisions that affected day-to-day operations.

“He’s preparing to leave early for the holiday weekend,” his administrative assistant said plainly. She was also the office manager. Mr. Hathaway’s schedule allowed her to take on more responsibilities, so she helped to organize the tasks for the interns and other assistants. “He doesn’t want to be bothered, especially after the meeting he just had.”

“Martha,” Parker said gently, smiling in her direction. “Mr. Reynolds was hoping to speak with Mr. Hathaway before he left. If he’s not terribly busy, would you please let him?”

“I don’t know. He was pretty adamant that he didn’t want to see anyone else.”

“Didn’t you say your husband liked the chocolate-dipped almond biscotti I made you for your anniversary?”

“Those were divine,” she said, taking more interest in Parker’s plea. I remembered those biscotti. I’d eaten two test batches before he felt confident enough to share them with Martha.

“Weren’t they?” I added. “I don’t know how he does it, but he’s incredibly talented.”

“My husband’s birthday is coming up,” she pondered aloud. “Have you ever made a cake before?”

“Of course!”

They ironed out some details and settled on a tiramisu inspired layer cake. She hopped out of her seat giddily and went to inform Hathaway of our arrival. We got the go ahead to enter and there he was waiting for us behind his desk nursing a scotch.

“Reynolds, you’re bigger every time I see you.”

Hathaway wasn’t one to mince words.

“You’re one to talk. I’m not the only one carrying around a spare tire.” This made him laugh.

“I’m in my sixties, what’s your excuse?” He didn’t stop. “And I’ve got a spare tire, you’ve got a whole Goodyear.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, allowing him to think his ribbing had gotten to me. “I’m just eating good. And my assistant here is a master baker.”

“He is, eh?” Hathaway asked, drinking from his scotch. “You're the biscotti boy?”

“Yes sir. That’s me.”

“Martha, that stingy bitch, only let me have one. Said they were for her anniversary. I’ve got an anniversary. And a birthday.”

“I’ll get those dates from Martha, sir.” Hathaway gave an impressed smirk and took another sip from his drink.

After that, we were finally able to talk business. I asked about Otterly. His retirement was true, a decision “strongly encouraged” by all members of the board. The position being padded with the accounts of other executives was also true. We would be asked in the coming month to choose one or two of our large scale accounts to let go of. When I asked why they didn’t just cut the position, they were concerned about losing their lead copywriter, who voiced concerns about a lack of upward mobility at Hathaway and Associates. He claimed he’d be willing to walk away from the agency unless he was seriously considered for Otterly’s position. 

That lead copywriter? Mark.

If it were anyone else, I would have thought twice about my next course of action. But for Mark? I couldn't care less.

“Well,” I started, hoping I was playing this right. “I say cut Otterly’s position. Give his few accounts to one of us execs, and if he walks, he walks.”

“He’s done good work,” Hathaway offered.

“You can save a great deal by cutting the position. Promote one of the junior copywriters to Mark’s position. And for good measure, Parker here can take the open junior copywriter role.” Parker made a sound of surprise but did his best to recover.

“Biscotti boy?”

“He’s got the Andrew Reynolds seal of approval.” This meant a great deal. I had the most accounts out of all eleven execs. I also had the greatest renewal rates. “I’d be losing the world’s greatest assistant, but I’d do anything for Hathaway and Associates.”

“My great-niece did just graduate from Columbia,” Hathaway said. “I’m sure she’ll need help finding a job with a degree in art history.” If I had to deal with another nepo-baby, so be it. I was keeping my accounts and helping Parker advance in his career.

“Just think about it,” I said, ending our conversation. As we left his office, Martha entered. Before the door closed completely, I heard him mentioning that the board needed to convene after the holiday weekend to vote about an important matter. I had a good feeling that things were going to change for my little Biscotti Boy.

We did still manage to make it up to the house I rented. Fortunately, it was somewhat secluded, the houses pretty far apart from each other. They were only really visible to one another from the front yard. Parker had a long list of grocery items he needed, so our first stop after checking into the rental was the local supercenter. He was obviously grateful for what I’d done in Hathaway’s office, and he spent the weekend showing me that gratitude with his culinary skills and physical flexibility. My favorite memory from our trip would be how he’d gotten me on the floor after grilling some brats and making s’mores.

“Okay, so bend your knees,” he said, swinging his leg around my waist after tossing me a pillow for underneath my head. There wasn’t a ton of space between my bent knees and my bulging belly, but Parker fit there perfectly. He looked down at me as he sat atop my waist, sliding all nine inches of my penis inside himself. He rested his hands on my stomach. Their warmth penetrated me to my core. 

I reached up to grab at his butt as he rode me. It felt good in my hands, and the thought of what it looked like as I fucked him had me salivating. Always the hard worker, Parker swiveled his hips back and forth rhythmically. His dick was angled upwards, sandwiched between the bottom of my gut and his flat stomach. He leaned forward slightly, his hands sliding up my stomach to my chest. He grabbed my slightly puffy nipples and pinched them gently. That intensified the pleasure I was feeling and I lifted him slightly by raising my legs, pushing myself deeper inside of his ass. 

“Oh God,” he moaned, sitting straight up. He bounced up and down like this for nearly a minute before he came. His cum shot up his front, some landing on the floor and on my gut. The look of sheer pleasure on his face was intoxicating. That did it for me too, and had me shooting my load as well.

We stayed on the floor longer than intended. I couldn’t get up just yet, so he covered both of our naked bodies with a large blanket and cuddled up close to me. Losing him as my assistant was going to be tough, but moments like these would make up for it.

Returning to work on Tuesday was fine. I’d have preferred another week in a secluded lake house with Parker, but the real world was waiting for us. Antoinette was in rare form, flitting from assistant to assistant spreading gossip. She was Hathaway and Associates' very own Lady Whistledown, though a lot less discreet. 

Before lunch, the board met to discuss the future of Mr. Otterly’s position. Antoinette made sure everyone knew how they voted, openly voicing her dismay that her good friend Mark would not be shifting to an executive role, as John Otterly’s position would be closed and his accounts redistributed amongst some of the remaining executives.

The ball was now in Mark’s court. He could keep his current job or he could quit. I was hoping for the latter, so Parker could shine in the field he’d gone to school for.

We worked all day and at exactly five we clocked out. We entered the elevator and Mark followed behind us. “That’s some shit you pulled Andy,” he spat. I noticed a cardboard box in his hands.

“You’re referring to what exactly?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh please,” he said. “You get a little ass from your assistant and you’re bending over backwards to get him a promotion. It’s pathetic, but it makes a lot of sense. Why else would he ever waste his time trying to find your dick under that massive gut?”

“You’re out of line,” I said, stepping towards him.

“He’s a sneak and you’re a gullible, desperate, sorry excuse for a professional.” He was upset, understandably, but his job had still been intact. He could’ve continued in his role as lead copywriter, a position I held for over four years before my promotion, and one day he’d be seen as ready to move up in the agency. He’d only been lead copywriter for a year and a half, a role in which he’d been given when the previous lead stepped down to take care of her newborn twins. Mark expected things to be handed to him without putting in the work. Now he was throwing a tantrum, and he wanted to take out his anger on us because he thought we were easy targets.

“Have you ever considered the fact that you just aren’t that likable?” I asked, staring down at him, forcing him into the corner of the elevator. “You’re talented, sure, but you are just so fucking hard to like. Hathaway knows this, the other execs know this. Why do you think it was so easy to encourage them to close Otterly’s position? They don’t want to work any more closely with you than they already do.”

I looked down at the cardboard box. Like a baby, he’d quit when he didn’t get his way. “Or should I say did?”

The elevator stopped on the main floor and the doors opened. Mark looked up at me and then over at Parker. “Fuck the both of you,” he said, pushing past me with slight difficulty. Parker looked pretty mortified, his entire face red with embarrassment.

My little ingénue. He was still very green, and I loved that about him, but I needed him to stand up for himself if he was going to survive in this industry. People made jokes or rude comments. There’d be backstabbing and petty office gossip. At the end of the day it didn’t matter. I was proof of that. There’d been talk about my weight for months, and I was still one of the most successful people on staff.

I’d for sure been in a slump before I met Parker, but I was becoming the man I’d been in my early twenties (metaphorically, not physically). There was a lot less self-doubt and self-loathing. I liked looking at myself in the mirror. I knew that I was good at what I did, and I knew I just needed to carry myself like I had when I was grinding as a junior copywriter. 

“That was really intense,” he said. We’d slowed, pausing in a stairwell. We were halfway between the lobby and the underground parking garage. “I would never sleep with you for that. I swear that I would never do that.”

“I know.” I felt myself smiling. It made me feel good that he liked me so much. His first thought was how I felt. He was always looking out for me, and if he did get a new role as a copywriter, no assistant would ever live up to what he was capable of.

“I love you,” he said, looking at me seriously. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me. How we’d gotten to this point, I’d never fully grasp, but I was glad that we did.

“I love you too,” I said. We were silent for a moment, and I took the opportunity to joke with him. “And I have to say, what an elaborate scheme you pulled. The baked goods, the lunches, the head. All for a promotion. You’re truly a mastermind.”

He laughed, swatting me on the ass. “And this is only Phase One. Mu-ha-ha.”

“What’s Phase Two?”

“Hmm, I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

“Maybe you aren’t the mastermind I thought you were—”

“Shut up!” he said, laughing. “Now let’s get you something good to eat for defending my honor.”

A month later, Parker was officially offered a position as a junior copywriter. He’d taken me shopping for some summer clothing items—both work attire and casual items. The number of X’s on my shirts and shorts was a little shocking, but he did have a knack for picking flattering cuts and patterns. I may have been over 400 pounds, but I’d never looked more stylish.

“Are you ready yet?” Parker called from the living room. It was the last Saturday in June and all of Parker’s old roommates from California were in town for the last weekend of Pride and to celebrate his promotion.

“Yeah,” I called in response. I walked out of our bedroom. “But you’re sure you want me to wear this to meet your friends?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “It’s just a pair of shorts and a polo. It’s not risqué.”

The shorts were much shorter than I’d buy for myself, but they did fit me very well. They were a good three inches above my knees. He saw them on some Instagram ad and bought me three different pairs. The polo was much more out of my comfort zone. It was cream-colored and a crochet knit. You could see glimpses of my brown skin through the hundreds of small holes that made up the shirt.

“But it seems like you guys want to dance and that’s not really my scene anymore. Can’t you all celebrate tonight and then we all meet up for brunch tomorrow?”

“Okay, what about we all meet up tonight and go out to brunch tomorrow morning?” he countered in rhetorical fashion. “And besides, if you don’t want to burn any calories, you can just have some bar food and a beer.”

“They have those soft pretzels there don’t they?”

“They sure do,” he said, handing me my keys. “Now let’s go please.”

Fortunately I was able to find a good parking spot not too far from the bar. I parked and we walked the block to Dudes. The day had cooled considerably, which I was grateful for. It’d been in the eighties, but it was only about seventy now that the sun had set. They asked to see Parker’s ID and then we made our way inside.

“Parker!” I looked for who had shouted his name. It was another Asian guy who was about Parker’s height.

“Yedam, hey!” Parker looked at me. “Andy, this is Yedam. Yedam, this is my boyfriend Andy.”

“Oh wow,” Yedam said, taking me in. He smiled, like he was trying to stifle a laugh. “Um, it’s nice to meet you.” He locked eyes with Parker, raising his eyebrows theatrically. Was this a good interaction or not? I was having trouble reading the situation. Two other guys made their way to where we stood, both holding drinks. One of the guys handed a glass to Yedam.

“Mike, Sam, this is my boyfriend Andy.” Mike was white and very blond. Sam was black, a little lighter than I was. Overall, they all had the same vibe as Parker. Very put-together, the same height and build.

“This makes sense,” Sam said, gesturing back and forth with his pointer finger between Parker and I.

“Oh yeah, a thousand percent,” Mike added.

I felt like I was missing something, but I was hopeful Parker would fill me in later. The guys all told me I was very handsome and very large. It wasn’t in a sarcastic way, or a flirtatious way even. They presented it like they were simply stating facts. I ordered my pretzels and a round of shots for Parker and his friends. They were all laughing and joking and hanging off of one another. It was almost enough to make me jealous,  but I knew I was what Parker wanted. I didn’t need to worry about his friends.

After another shot Parker pulled me towards the crowded dance floor. “Ready?” he asked, leaning into me.

“I thought I was supposed to drink my beer and eat bar food.” I scanned the whole place; I was the biggest guy in the entire club.

“You’ve got all night to eat bar food. You can dance with me for a few minutes.” He started to move his body and I did too. I wasn’t a bad dancer; it was just something I tended to avoid. He turned slowly, his butt against my crotch.

It seemed like the music got faster and louder, and the entire time I couldn’t take my eyes off of Parker. He was absolutely gorgeous. I leaned down, kissing his neck. He lifted his arms, wrapping them around my neck. I stepped back and felt a foot under me. 

“Shit, man, watch where you’re going! You’re gonna break someone’s foot!” This guy was drunk.

“What was that?” I asked. Six months ago, I’d have left the dance floor completely mortified. But now, why would I ever stop living my life because I took up just a little too much space? The world was a big place, and people would just have to make room for me.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, adjusting his tone. “Just be more careful. Sorry.”

“That dude was an ass,” Parker said, turning to face me, resting his hands on my waist.

“As crowded as it is, I was bound to step on someone’s foot.” I leaned down so I didn’t have to shout this next part so loudly. “Although it does probably hurt a little more when the one doing the stepping is over 425 pounds.” Parker smiled at me, and I think it was a relief to him that I was being a good sport. 

“Parker! Andy!” It was Sam waving us over to the bar.

He and the rest of Parker’s friends wanted to do another shot and my pretzels were waiting for me. “They were just delivered,” Yedam said. “And we didn’t want them to get cold.”

The rest of the night went pretty well. Parker was always so reserved and in control of himself, so it was nice to see him having fun and letting loose. They were all pretty toasted by midnight, and Mike drunkenly started talking about getting something to eat.

“Why did we drink so much?” he bemoaned, leaning against Yedam as we left the bar. “We should’ve gotten dinner before the bar.”

“You were the one convinced you were getting laid tonight,” Sam stated, stumbling right along next to them.

“Andy knows a place,” Parker said, leaning against me. “Isn’t Sub Daddy’s second location near here?”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” I offered. “I can drive, though you all better not puke.”

“We won’t!” they all sang in unison.

We made it to my Buick unscathed, and I made sure everyone was buckled up. Looking at Parker in the seat next to me and his three drunk besties in the back seat was hilarious to me. It looked like I’d kidnapped a bunch of intoxicated twinks.

“So did Parker used to bake a lot when you all lived together?” I asked, making conversation as we drove.

“Constantly,” Yedam said, sounding comically exasperated. “We had this neighbor.”

“Oh yeah!” Mike interjected. “Big Idris.”

“Your neighbor went by ‘Big Idris?’ Seriously?” I asked.

“Of course not!” Sam exclaimed, cracking up. “I think his real name was Tyler or something?”

“Tyson,” Parker clarified, his entire face and ears covered in a red blush that I didn’t think was entirely from the alcohol.

“Tyson, right,” Sam continued. “We called him Big Idris because he was hot like a young Idris Elba, but much bigger. I mean, not huge.” There was a slight pause, as if he was second guessing his next statement. “Like you’re way bigger than he was.”

“Okay, so he wasn’t fat-fat, got it.”

“So anyway, Big Idris was our neighbor across the hall. When we moved in at the start of our fall semester junior year, Parker baked little treats for everyone on the floor. Big Idris was the only one who came back asking for seconds.” The three of them roared with laughter. I could see where this story was going. Yedam continued the tale.

“It was just like when we were in the dorms. He didn’t have access to a kitchen, but Parker made sure this guy who lived on the floor above us never went without a snack. Insomnia Cookies should probably erect a statue in Parker’s honor. What was his name? Owen?”

“Yes, Owen,” Parker confirmed.

“So Owen, the ex-football player, ended the year having put on the freshman fifteen.”

“Plus fifteen,” Mike added.

“Plus fifteen,” Sam followed. They all cracked up again. Parker was definitely an anomaly to them. An oddity that made for interesting stories. Their sex lives were probably pretty tame compared to what Parker and I were into.

“Owen was nothing like Big Idris though,” Yedam said. “Those 45 pounds were nothing compared to the almost a hundred Big Idris gained living across the hall from us for two years.”

Mike spoke next, saying, “To be fair, it wasn’t all Parker. This guy liked to eat, and he was always ordering DoorDash or UberEats.” 

“But Parker wasn’t innocent,” Sam said. “He baked him a different type of cookie at least three times a week.”

“What happened to Big Idris?” I asked, now extremely curious.

“His girlfriend moved in and Parker moved here to start his new job. She’s definitely helped him change his diet around. You can tell he’s lost some weight, not eating as much take-out. But he for sure doesn’t seem as happy as when Parker was visiting his apartment at two in the morning.”

“That’s a shame,” Parker said. Now that had me cracking up as I pulled into the Sub Daddy parking lot. Of course Parker would be upset to hear that all his hard work was being undone.

We went inside and ordered, and the four of them decided to split two sandwiches, which was funny because I ordered two sandwiches for myself. We sat and ate, the four of them passing tiny bags of chips back and forth to supplement their little sandwiches. After we finished eating I drove them back to their Airbnb. We made plans to meet up for brunch the next afternoon, and I was very interested to hear more about Parker as a sexy coed with feeder tendencies.

Parker was only slightly hungover the next morning. We hung out with his friends again in the afternoon. They mostly shared stories, while I mostly ate boujee brunch food. We said our goodbyes and they made plans to get together again soon. They all still lived in the old apartment, at least until their lease ended in the fall. Overall, the weekend had been a success, and I was sure Parker was excited to start his new position come Tuesday.

Monday he’d be training his replacement.

“So make sure his lunch is ordered at eleven so that he’s able to eat by noon,” Parker stated matter-of-factly. 

He had been with my new assistant all morning. She was a nice girl, and I could tell she was already a little overwhelmed by all the things Parker expected her to remember. I think Parker was sad to be shifting to a new position, even though he was really excited to be doing what he dreamed of. 

He would be on an entirely different side of the office. It was probably for the best that we had a bit of space from each other. We didn’t want to become one of those couples that couldn’t function without the other.

But still, he knew me better than anyone. I didn’t have to think about my next move because he’d already anticipate it. 

“Parker, can I see you in my office for a moment?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said before turning his attention to my new assistant. “Nicolette, we can go over the best times to schedule Mr. Reynolds for a meeting after you get back from your break.” She couldn’t grab her purse fast enough. She was probably going to be updating her LinkedIn and putting in applications on Indeed.

“You need to go a bit easier on her,” I said once we were behind closed doors. “Remember that's Hathaway’s great-niece.”

“I didn’t have anyone to show me the ropes when I started,” he said. “I just want to make sure she knows what to do so things go smoothly for you.”

“I’ll be okay, babe.”

“Fine. I’ll dial it back.”

“So how about a quickie for old time’s sake?” He laughed, but he immediately loosened his tie.

I ended up seated behind my desk with my pants around my ankles. He was completely nude, claiming he didn’t want to chance getting a stain on his clothes. He kneeled in front of me and reached into my desk drawer. He grabbed a tiny bottle of lube. He squirted a moderate amount in his palm before wrapping his hand around my erection. He pumped my dick slowly, covering it with the lube. 

I watched him stand with his back to me. I got to my feet, grabbing the bottle of lube from him and covering his hole with some of it, massaging it with my fingers. Being between his fat cheeks was always a pleasure. It was the only fatty part about him, and I loved grabbing his ass roughly in these moments. I bent my knees before angling my dick so there’d be a smooth entry and pushed my penis into him slowly. I leaned my body on top of him, my gut resting on his back as I rocked my hips back and forth. I felt his body relaxing as I found a good rhythm. I continued to thrust my hips and he did his best to stifle his moans.

“I’m your biggest success story,” I said breathily, pushing a bit more forcefully. “I just know your friends are going to be shocked the next time they see me.”

“Uh—” he whimpered, his knees buckling slightly.

“Say it,” I said. “Say that you’re gonna make me bigger.”

“I–I’m gonna make you bigger.” He tugged at his dick desperately. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“500 isn’t that far off,” I said, not entirely believing it myself. Would he want me to get that big? He did tell me that I was the biggest person he’d ever been with. Could he handle that? Could I?

“Oh fuck!” he panted, doing his best to catch his cum in his hand. I gave a few final pushes before filling him with my cum. I pulled myself from inside of him and we both got cleaned up. He got dressed, looking positively pristine, like nothing lewd had just taken place in my office. 

That’s when he turned to me and said, “I hope you’re ready for lunch.”

He had a look in his eye that let me know our sex talk wasn’t just talk. Parker had goals, and I liked a man with motivation.

I sure knew how to hire ‘em.

The End!

[ichinawa-aizawa]

Heat Waves - Hitoshi Shinsō

Warnings: Professor/Teaching Assistant relationship (this has implied power/authority dynamics), some authority kink, submissive reader, creampie

Note: 3,000 words. I couldn’t wait to finish this one for Shinsō, it’s been on my mind for a while now! This is pretty explicit and for adults only.

Hitoshi never minds working late. Sitting comfortably in his office, tie loosened around his neck, scotch slowly eating away at cool ice on his desk, it’s serene in its own way. It’s also a fulfilled fantasy; the professor toiling away editing essays and grading exams while watching the late summer sun fade away in his pristinely kept office.

He has worked hard for this job, and nothing takes his mind away from his research or his duties. Except for you, of course. His faithful little teaching assistant. Always so dutiful and thoughtful, you pull all the strings in his courses and keep them running smoothly while he gets sidetracked trying to write the book that could finally earn him tenure. And tonight, you are more of a distraction than he ever expected you to be.

It’s midterm season and he’s got you on the floor of his office, papers spread around you like they’ve been falling from the sky as you grade essays. It’s nearing eight, which means the English department is mostly empty, and that the sun is setting and making your skin practically glow. Every perfect curve on your body is accentuated by the tiny sundress you’re wearing. And you’re on your knees, hands sitting on your thighs as you look around for the next paper to put in alphabetical order.

You look comfortable in that pose—shoulders only slightly slouched, legs on display below the thin hem of your dress. You look perfect in that pose, really. As if you’ve been pulled from his darkest fantasies and placed into the light before him.

He’s caught himself staring at you many times before, especially when classes are quiet and you’re lost in your thoughts as you grade and write, pretty head churning with even prettier thoughts. But tonight...has he even read a single essay that lines his desk? Or has he just been nursing his drink and resituating his slacks as he gawks at you?

He knows he shouldn’t think of you this way. You’re about to graduate your grad program and take your hard earned degree out into the world and make something of yourself. He’s a professor, someone who is supposed to help guide you into your future. Only he wants your future to be spent writhing between his sheets as he spoils you like the prize that you are.

“Professor Shinsō?” he’s been staring for too long, hasn’t he?

He clears his throat, blinking violet eyes until they’re unhazey, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said you look tired. I don’t mind taking these home and letting you get to bed early tonight.”

“No, no, no, that’s okay. I’m always tired. It’s just the stress.”

There’s a half-hearted laugh that leaves his throat to try to ease the tension, but you don’t seem to take the bait. Concern is written across your features, your head tilting to the side like you’re thinking too deeply about something.

“Is there something I can do to help your stress?”

If only you knew what a dangerous question that is.

His mind’s eye flashes to images of you lying on his desk, tits spilling out of your dress as your fingers pull wet, dripping panties away from your cunt so he can watch you tease over your clit. Legs spread, essays forgotten, and his name flowing from your lips like a prayer.

It’s not worth it, he tells himself. It’s too risky. It’s not fair to you.

“Sir?”

Everything inside of him is itching to have you, especially with your lashes fluttering, your weight shifting on your knees just out of reach.

“Come here.”

He scolds himself even as he shifts his office chair back, clearly making room for you between him and his desk. Sweat begins to form on the back of his neck as he waits for you to move. You sit for a moment, letting the not so subtle command register in your mind.

The muscles in his arms, his back, feel like they’re about to snap the threads in his shirt when you finally stand. He’s tense, rigid. Silently, you slip into the open space he’s created for you, the backs of your thighs pressing against the curved edge of his desk.

He places his hand between your legs before you can cross them.

“I want you to stop me if you get uncomfortable, you understand?”

His intentions are clear, eyes settling on your heaving chest before flickering up to catch your own to look for permission. Your gaze is glossy, a little wide-eyed, but there’s some kind of purpose simmering behind your dilated pupils.

Your head nods slowly, lips pressed together like fresh, dewy petals.

“Use your words.” His demand is soft but stern, enough to make your shoulders shiver.

“I understand.”

The affirmation brings him to life, thumb swirling upon your thigh as he stands, broad shoulders and lean back rolling. Your legs spread instinctively to make room for him, ass sitting back on his desk and dress pooling at the swell of your hips.

His eyes want to wander, but he keeps his attention on your flushing face. You’re nervous, excited, and he needs to make sure he’s not pushing your boundaries.

“Kiss me,” you’re getting bolder, fingers winding into the crisp, neatly pressed fabric of his shirt, “I always watch your lips whenever you teach. Wanna know what they feel like.”

His blood is pumping hot, ears burning. Quick fingers find the nape of your neck, turning your face up to him like a flower seeking a violet sun. He’s sure you can feel his hands starting to sweat against your skin.

Hitoshi thinks to be slow with you, careful and mindful as mouths meld. But instincts say otherwise. The moment he gets a taste of you, sweet and eager with lips parting and moaning, his chest claws with the urge to devour you.

Greedy hands press you against his chest, his tongue exploring your mouth like he already owns the rich sweetness within. Your response only encourages him, one hand sinking into unruly, purple hair while the other slips fingers between buttons to caress skin.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he’s pushing into you, spreading your thighs farther so his hips slot between and long fingers curl against damp panties. Smirking, he adds, "And so wet."

Hitoshi can actually feel your body heat against him, a blush of embarrassment spreading from your face down the length of your torso as you squirm on his desk.

"I've j-just wanted this for so long," you confess, now breathless.

This time it's Hiroshi's skin that heats up. "Yeah? How long?" He's still rubbing you through your panties, fingers gentle as he appreciates the way you feel under his hands.

Your legs spread even farther as if encouraging him to give you more, but Hitoshi is fine where he is; for now.

"Pretty much as soon as I walked into your class."

"Dirty," he mumbles, but it's self-satisfied, and he knows you pick up on it. "Schoolgirl fantasizing about her professor."

"No worse than said professor fantasizing about his TA," you come back smoothly, a new spark in otherwise hazy eyes.

The kiss is sloppy and breathy, hungry. Your neck arches back to keep up with the forcefulness of his lips; lust is creeping over every corner of his mind, clouding judgement and making his cock strain against the zipper of his pants.

He adores the way you gasp when he leaves your mouth, heady tongue trailing down the column of your throat.

All he can think about is how soft you are, how he can’t wait to fuck you, how he can’t wait to fuck you again. He could make you a habit. Maybe even get addicted, let you simmer in his lust like the heat waves that broil in June.

The little dress you’re wearing is starting to get in his way. Hitoshi works the fabric up over your head, delighted to watch your naked tits fall into view. He skims his fingers down your arm, wrapping them around the delicate bones of your wrist.

“What I wouldn't give to tie you up, keep you forever.” He punctuates forever by pressing against you with the hand still tucked between your legs. The muscles in your legs twitch as you mewl, hips rolling to gain more of that touch.

"I'd let you," you huff desperately, “let you do anything you want. Please, just—"

Hitoshi appeases you, lips peppering wet kisses over your chest as his fingers push your panties away. He marvels at how your slick clings to his skin, his fingers sticky and dripping even with his first touch.

Your cunt practically swallows his index finger, gummy walls already begging for more. He gives you his middle finger as well, curling and pumping the digits and watching with eager eyes as you gush and suck around him.

"God—fuck—yes," you whimper, moving to brace yourself on arms locked behind you. It gives you the leverage to meet his hand with every thrust of his fingers, greedy as you take everything you can from this position.

He’s tempted to let you cum now. More so just so he can watch you, breasts flushed and nipples pebbled, legs spread and pussy leaking onto the edge of some poor student’s midterm essay. But with the way your walls are pulling him in and how tight you already feel, he would rather feel you cum around his cock so you can milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck, Professor…”

You look pornographic, tongue threatening to loll out of your mouth, back arching and tummy tightening as he fingers you.

"How many times have you gotten off to a fantasy like this?" Hitoshi can't help but ask. "How many times have you whined for me like that?"

Your eyebrows knit together as if in genuine thought, but he knows better, knows you're just getting close.

"Too many times to count," you admit. "I think about you almost—" Your hips buck violently when Hitoshi presses against your g-spot with purpose. "Almost every time I touch myself."

"Fuck," Hitoshi pants, barely able to form a coherent thought at this point. He wants one thing and one thing only.

Your pussy practically moans as he pulls his fingers away, slick following in a sticky string that he brings to his lips to taste. It’s like honey with a kick of acidic nectar, and he’s positive he’s falling into an addiction when he swallows.

There’s no time left to be wasted. His cock is swollen, thumping and pleading for you. He’s shocked for a second when your hands pull at his trousers before he does, quick fingers pulling at the zipper and button and practically clawing to get to his cock.

He springs forward like he’s been wound up too tightly, cock weeping and flushed red. Your tongue skates the edges of your lips and he desperately wants to feel that perfect mouth around him, but that can come later.

You sit up on his desk like you’re about to take to the floor and find yourself on your knees again. He stops you, spit slick hand cupping around your chin before you can open that pretty little mouth for him.

“You’re so sweet, darling. But I’m going to fuck you on this desk just the way I’ve always wanted.”

He hears a squeaked yes as he uses the might of his hands to press your back flat against his desk, papers crumpling and inky words forgotten as your wet, naked beauty takes over.

Some voice in the back of his head tells him to take a picture of you spread like this, to remember the first time he finally gets to have you. So he burns you into his memory, like fire flashing against wood, searing your figure into the grooves of his mind.

The way your legs open and reveal the sensual juncture of thigh and hips, now swollen and dripping, is hypnotizing. His movements feel slowed; a hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, his hips nestled perfectly between thighs as your calves pull him closer.

"Do I feel as good as you imagined?" Hitoshi questions, thinking he already knows the answer as you tremble for him, your muscles tense but your cunt so warm and welcoming.

You nod, a gasped, "yes," just loud enough for him to hear.

He takes his time, cockhead slipping up and down your folds, smearing slick and dribbling pre. You whimper as he begins to press into that first ring of muscle, back arching and urging him to go faster, deeper. He presses in with one swift movement.

Hitoshi’s hand covers your mouth, keeping you quiet in case anyone roams the halls in front of his office.

You feel like sin, like a taboo wrapping around his cock and sucking him in. You’re something he shouldn’t have. You’re something he’s supposed to look at but never touch, and now he’s buried balls deep inside of you.

Lips wet and heavy below the weight of his hand, you keen and moan with every plunge of his cock. Hitoshi is overwhelmed, mesmerized. Your tits are bouncing against his forearm, pussy squelching, breath seeping between his fingers. Even the smell is captivating; warm skin that lingers with the scent of the sun, the sweetness of woman meeting denser notes of his own scent. It’s all so primal, heat being exchanged between fervent bodies and the sounds of sex meeting sex.

There’s a strange wickedness that fills his mind as he feels you drool against his palm, little whimpers of “please, please, please, Professor please,” being muffled between his knuckles. He could do whatever he wanted and you would love it; you’ve always loved to service, and he feels shameful for taking advantage of that submissive nature. But at the same time, you appear blissed out of your mind, eyes rolling and your hands moving to grasp at his wrist for stability.

“All mine,” he groans the words before he can think on them, “this pretty little body is mine.”

Your head nods, spit smearing against your cheeks and the undersides of his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your face, blush simmering. God you’re so good. Just his words affect you, and that makes him feel far too powerful.

The muscles in your cunt are getting tight, sucking him in and allowing him to feel every soft, spongy ridge in your depths.

“Gonna cum, darling? Be a good girl and cum for teacher, let me feel you.”

He’s been watching the pulls of your face, how your brows pinch together and your eyes flutter with tears of pleasure. But his attention turns to admiring how perfect your pussy looks wrapped around his cock, wet flesh dragging along his length and your slick coating his silken skin with every push and pull. He can see how your lower stomach is spasming, drawing him in, edging up toward that climax that you so deserve.

“Sh-Shi-” you’re trying to mumble out his name for him, and even just hearing those syllables have him fucking into you harder.

“Come on, come on, that’s it—fucking shit, so tight,” Hitoshi is losing his fucking mind at the way your walls are fluttering. He quickly slides a hand across your belly and down to where his cock is spreading you apart. Your clit is so swollen and ready; he rolls your bud between his thumb and forefinger, purposeful and quick, making electricity crackle down every nerve. He even feels your toes curl against his ass as your legs lock around him, body going rigid below his hands and on his cock.

He can’t help himself. His palm slips from your lips and fingers cup your cheeks so he can hear the breathless, heavy moan that falls from your mouth as you cum for him. Heat stings up his spine as you milk his cock, cunt squeezing like you're tugging him into heaven.

You’re the best thing he’s ever seen, ever felt. He suddenly can’t imagine life without you, doesn’t want to ever host a class without his smart, darling TA standing by his side and dripping with his cum.

It doesn’t even register for him how much he’s actually pumped into you, his mind too busy thinking about the future and how he wants to watch you orgasm over and over again. Your poor pussy can’t keep all of his seed inside, strings of it spurting and drooling down the edge of his desk and even staining his slacks.

He hears you gasping for breath and immediately he leans over, placing kisses over your messy face, “You alright? You did so good, so, so good baby.”

Violet hairs stick to his forehead, some skim against your face, all while you smile and card your fingers through his hair. He hates to leave your body, but his cock is going soft. Your little hole still clings to him as he pulls out.

His hands trace over the expanses of your body, tweaking your nipples and swirling over tender, abused flesh.

“Professor?” Your voice is soft, tired.

“Hm?”

He blinks rapidly, like he’s worried he’s waking up from a dream.

“We can’t give these midterms back.” You emphasize your point by peeling a damp, sticky paper from your side, giggling as you sit up and check for ink stains against your skin.

“Shit.”

Hitoshi sits back in his office chair, scratching at his unruly hair.

“That’s alright,” you’re climbing toward him, straddling his waist and making his cock twitch and ache to be inside your still naked body, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Mhm, and I’ll take care of you while you do.”

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 16: Delightful D-Bags

“Oh my god,” Dean mutters as Naomi strides into Crowley’s office. Half horrified, half entranced, he strains to eavesdrop on their conversation through the glass door.

“What’s happening?” Cas asks, his impatient voice coming from the earbud jammed in Dean’s right ear. “Naomi got into the elevator five minutes ago. Is she there yet?”

“Shut up,” Dean whispers. “I’m trying to listen to them!”

“Listen harder! What kind of an assistant are you?”

“One who’s gonna get fired if I don’t get all my work done,” Dean hisses as he keeps one ear on Crowley and Naomi, one ear on Cas, and one ear on the hotel clerk currently yammering to him about their spa amenities through his work phone.

Christ, he needs more ears.

Dean ducks behind his computer screen as Crowley grabs his jacket. Right in front of Dean’s stunned face, Crowley pushes open the door for Naomi to walk through first.

Dean had no idea Crowley knew that was something you could do for someone.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean says faintly as they don’t stop on their way down the hallway to the elevators.

“Dean?”

“Sir, if you are dissatisfied with room service options-”

“No, the food’s fine. It’s the room,” Dean says quickly, craning around his chest-height cubicle wall to watch Crowley and Naomi leave the office. Before nine pm. “My boss needs a room in the top five floors of your hotel. It can’t face the parking lot. You got that?”

Cas growls, “DEAN!” obnoxiously loudly in his ear.

Dean mutes Cas as the hotel guy replies, “We have a room available on the twelfth floor. However, it does have a half-view of the car park-”

“Nope,” Dean cuts him off. “No parking lots. What else you got?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but due to the last-minute nature of your request, most of our rooms are full-”

“You have over seven hundred rooms!”

“Our five highest floors do not.”

Dean groans. “I don’t appreciate the sass, Jeeves. But fine. Hold that room for Fergus Crowley, and I’ll be calling back every day to see if someone other guest had to pull out or died or something.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Great. Sorry for being such a hardass, but honestly my boss is so much worse. You don’t want to be talking to him instead of me.” As Dean speaks, he taps his cell and winces at the long, long trail of texts Cas has apparently been sending nonstop since being muted.

“If you say so, sir. Do you require anything else?”

“Nope, hopefully you get off soon so you can have a stiff drink.”

“That is certainly the plan. Goodnight.”

Dean hangs up the phone with a sigh. He scans the hallway in case Crowley is about to pop out from behind the plastic ficus and rip him a new one for taking a non-work call during work, but the coast remains clear.

“Hey,” Dean says, “It’s me.”

“What the hell is happening?” Cas demands. “Naomi still hasn’t returned.”

“They left,” Dean says, not bothering to keep the manic glee out of his voice.

“Do you have eyes on them?”

“What am I, James Bond? No, I don’t have eyes on them. It’s bad enough I have to watch Crowley constantly during my twelve-hour workday.”

“So you have no idea where they are?” Cas asks, his voice despairing.

Dean’s phone buzzes.

“Hold on,” he tells Cas as he taps the screen to read the rest of Crowley’s text.

Reservations for 2 at 9pm tonight at Crossroads

“They’re going to dinner,” Dean tells Cas, unashamedly punching the air with his free hand. He reads his watch. Crap. “Gotta go. Crowley wants reservations for nine.”

“Isn’t it five past?”

Dean snorts. “I see why Naomi hired a Harvard grad as her assistant. You have such a knack for spotting things other people don’t, Sherlock. Has anyone told you that before?”

Dean can practically hear Cas roll his eyes through the phone call. “Come down to Naomi’s office when you’re done. I’ll order burgers just in case they come back to work after dinner.”

“God, I hope not.”

“I’d give my first born to ensure that isn’t the case,” Cas says gravely. “But you know how unpredictable they can be.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Deans says fervently, internally groaning as Crowley texts again, just a very judgmental question mark. “Okay, I really gotta go. See you in five or fifteen, depending on how much pity Crossroads’ hostess takes on me.”

“Good luck.”

Dean hangs up.

They did it.

When he proposed the objectionably insane (and suicidal, if you asked Cas) plan to set up their jackass bosses to get them off Dean and Cas’s respective backs, Cas had laughed him out of their shared elevator.

Dean thought he’d made a compelling case: as their executive assistants, Dean and Cas knew their schedules down to the minute. They knew everything from their food allergies to their sleep apnea (Crowley) to their late-night Amazon impulse purchases (Naomi). Most importantly, they set up their schedules.

Once he got Cas on board, it was almost comically easy to get Crowley and Naomi to bump into each other multiple times a week, culminating in a shared elevator ride that not-so accidentally stalled for twenty minutes.

With a broad grin, Dean dials Crossroads, Crowley’s go-to place for impressing his business contacts. He talks with the hostess, Casey, pretty frequently, but he still has to fake a panic attack to get her to find a table for Crowley within the next two minutes.

Finally, Dean shuts off his desk lamp, grabs his laptop just in case, and heads up to Naomi’s floor.

“We did it!” Dean calls victoriously as he jogs down the hall to the corner office, where Cas is apparently working diligently at his desk directly outside the door.

Cas stops typing and beams up at him. “I honestly don’t think she’s returning tonight. I sent her a text ten minutes ago asking about the Percival article, and she hasn’t texted back.”

Dean parks his ass on Cas’s desk and raises his hand for a high five.

Cas obliges.

“Is food here yet?” Dean asks eagerly. “I’m starving.”

“It arrived a minute before you did.” Cas pulls the bag of takeout from under his desk and starts divvying up the food.

Dean groans as he sinks his teeth into his burger. He only keeps a bag of rabbit-food trail mix at his desk and a month-old packet of jerky in his bag. He hasn’t eaten since noon, and Crowley even cut that short by sending Dean on an emergency trip to his tailor.

Cas hands Dean his coke and holds up his own sparkling water. “To us,” he says solemnly. “And your stupid plan, which actually worked.”

“Hang on,” Dean says, grinning, as he taps their plastic bottles together, “Are you actually saying I was right about something?”

Cas smiles wryly. “I’m sure you will never hold this over me in the weeks to come.”

“Never.” He throws his head back and laughs.

Cas watches, an inexplicably fond look on his face.

“What?” Dean asks as Cas just continues to stare, saying nothing.

“Is this a date?”

Dean chokes. Beating his sternum with his clenched fist, he squints down at Cas’s cautious face. “What makes you say that?” he gasps as his airways clear up.

Cas sets down his own burger. “It looks like we might be pulling this off after all, which made me think about my own dating life.” He exhales a slow breath. “I haven’t had the time to date since I took this job.” He eyes Dean carefully “I don’t think you have either?”

Dean slowly shakes his head. “A couple one night stands, but that’s about it.”

“And I have come to the conclusion that there is nobody I would rather spend all my new free time with but you,” Cas says, plain and honest as anything.

Dean swallows. “You’re serious?”

“Are you not?”

Dean snags one of Cas’s curly fries, ignoring his look of mild offense. Silently, he offers a sip of his own coke since sparkling water is for sad people who spice up their life with a different type of water. Plus, Cas always makes this funny little face when the bubbles hit his tongue, like it's a surprise every time.

As Cas hands Dean's drink back to him, he repeats, “So, is this a date?”

“No,” Dean says, and before Cas’s face can fall too far, “our first date is going to be dinner and Legally Blonde at my place so you’ll finally get my hilarious Harvard jokes.”

“I’m sure they’re not that funny.”

“Wait ’til you’ve seen the damn movie.”

Cas dips his head, hiding his smile.

“You know, maybe Crowley and Naomi aren’t that bad,” Dean muses as he rips open a ketchup packet with his teeth. “I wouldn’t have met you if not for them, I guess.”

“Yes, they are truly delightful people,” Cas deadpans.

[seijorhi]

Can I request for Corrupt CEO Oikawa and female assistant? She finds out he’s involved in shady underground business and tries to quit. Non-con smut, pretty please 🥺 I love your fics! I enjoy reading dark content. Your smut is amazing I’m addicted💖

Let me preface this by saying there will probably be a part 2 to this fic

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW implied non-con, blood, violence (nothing too graphic I don’t think?)

The Lion’s Den

The invitation to dinner should have been the first red flag.

You’d left the letter on his desk next to his morning coffee, stacked neatly on top of the reports and documents he’d asked you to prepare the night before. Impossible to miss.

You weren’t exactly sure what kind of a response you were expecting - a call into his office, cool indifference, security guards showing up at your desk to promptly escort you out - but the innocuous calendar invite that flashes across your screen twenty minutes after he arrived wasn’t it.

8:30pm, Da Graziella. Don’t be late x

The name was familiar - upscale, Italian and one of Oikawa’s favourites. He knew the owner, or so he’d told you, always got treated like royalty whenever he set foot inside. You used to wonder about that, why certain people seemed to bow and simper and scrape whenever he was around. Initially, you’d assumed it was because he had money and with money came perceptions of power. Of course, now you know better. It’s the reason why you wrote that letter - the reason why you should decline the invitation as politely as you can.

But you don’t.

Not because you’re scared of him - you’re terrified - but you want this to go as smoothly as possible, and there is absolutely no reason for you to be scared of Oikawa Tooru.

Not unless you knew the truth, and knowing the truth would put you in a very precarious position. 

The cursor hovers over the invite for a long moment when you feel a prickle at the back of your neck. Sure enough, when you glance up, there’s a pair of dark brown eyes staring at you from behind the glass wall that separates his office and yours.

Swallowing tightly, you click accept.

Oikawa smiles.

***

It’s a prestigious role, being the personal assistant for the CEO of Seijoh Industries, but it wasn’t the one you’d signed onto the company to do. You were an intern, fresh out of university, eager to put the last four years of your education to good use. 

They’d put you in the marketing department with six other grads and told you that at the end of the year there would be one permanent position on the team you’d all get to compete for. The first three months had consisted of coffee runs, minute taking at meetings (so many meetings), excel spreadsheets and grunt work the actual team couldn’t be bothered with, and you were almost positive that things were going to continue that way until your team was picked to lead the campaign for the new launch. For a while it did - meetings, minutes and coffee, rinse and repeat. Except now your meetings included the senior VP’s and him - the CEO. Oikawa Tooru. 

Of course nobody joined Seijoh without knowing about its charismatic founder. He was filthy rich, naturally, but he’d built this company from the ground up with his own two hands, made it into the powerhouse that it is. The media adored him, not just for his devastatingly handsome looks, but because he gave back to the community - a philanthropist at heart. He was the perfect poster boy for success in business.

(If only they knew how their poster boy really made his money.)

And he smiled so warmly and thanked you when you passed him his coffee. It wasn’t long until you felt those dark brown eyes seeking you out when the meetings dragged on, the playful glimmer and subtle twitching of his lips saying more than he could get away with - even as the CEO.

Still, you hadn’t expected it when he called you up to his office only a few weeks later to offer you the role of his personal assistant. You can’t quite remember the exact reasons he gave as to why; something about dedication and the diligence you’d shown. You’d caught his attention, and he needed somebody like you since he’d unfortunately had to let his last assistant go.

It was flattering, but being a PA wasn’t the career path you’d wanted at Seijoh. When you’d bashfully tried explaining as much, Oikawa had just waved away your concerns with a pretty smile and a laugh. In marketing, you were a glorified worker drone, one of six. Even if you did get the coveted promotion at the end of it all, you’d still be at the very bottom of the food chain, working yourself to the bone trying to make a mark on a company far bigger than yourself. With him, yes you would still be doing coffee runs and scheduling meetings and all of those mundane tasks, but you’d be working with one of the most powerful men in the country. Oikawa could open doors for you, and he could do it while making sure you received a generous salary for your efforts.

Your parents told you once never to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

How could you possibly say no?

***

After handing in your letter of resignation, the rest of your day goes reasonably smoothly. Oikawa’s gone for most of it. His calendar says he’s in back to back meetings all day, meetings which for once you were exempt from attending. It might have been a cause for concern if it hadn’t been on the agenda for days - some disgruntled shareholder that needed to be pacified, or so he’d told you.

You’re secretly glad for the reprieve; you have four weeks left at Seijoh and you’re still not entirely sure how you’re supposed to meet your boss’s eye without quaking - and the last thing you want is for him to become suspicious. But without him hovering, interrupting your work every five minutes as he usually does, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

Why dinner? 

Why tonight?

You’re a good personal assistant, at least you think you are - Oikawa’s certainly never complained - but it’s not like you’re irreplaceable. You’ve heard of companies trying to negotiate with higher salaries and benefits to keep good employees, but even an excellent PA is just a PA, and the pay Oikawa has you on is more than generous. You’re good at handling his moods and eccentricities, you don’t mind that he gets irritable and petulant when he’s stressed and you know how his coffee order changes depending on what time of day it is, but that hardly makes you anything spectacular.

If it’s an impromptu thank you for the last year and a half or a farewell from your boss, why not wait until you’re actually finishing up? You’ve given him four weeks notice, even offered to train up your replacement if they manage to find somebody beforehand.

Which leaves you with the possibility that he knows the real reasons behind your sudden resignation - a thought that fills you with a biting unease.

But he has no reason to even suspect such a notion.

He couldn’t have known you’d come back to his house that night, or what you’d overheard - what you’d seen. One week later and you still can’t close your eyes without visions of blood and brain matter splattering across the walls, but-

It’s a popular restaurant. Respectable. You’re reading too much into it, Oikawa’s probably just curious about why you’re suddenly moving on from Seijoh. He’s always been a little blurry on the lines between personal and professional - at least where you’re concerned. And it’s not like the two of you haven’t gone out for meals together before, he’s often dragging out of the office for ‘work lunches’ or a celebratory dinner when a project goes well.

People quit their jobs every day. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.

Except when you arrive at Da Graziella and the maître d' takes your coat and leads you inside, you realise that the assumption you’d been clinging to was very, very wrong.

There’s not a soul inside of the restaurant save for Oikawa, watching you from the lone table set up in the centre of the room. Bathed in the warm, flickering light of the nearby candles, Oikawa smiles as you falter, your wide eyes darting around the empty restaurant before settling back on him.

There’s a pit in your stomach, an icy tendril of fear that creeps up your spine. It’s a familiar sensation - you’d felt it back at the mansion too, the moment you’d glanced through the crack in his office door and saw him eyeing the handguns in the open briefcase on his desk. You should have left then, before you’d seen anything incriminating, and you should definitely leave now - but it’s too late for that.

It was too late the moment you set foot inside. 

You’ve walked willingly into the lion’s den, all you can do now is smile and pray that it’s not in the mood to play with its food.

“Ah, wonderful, you’re early. Would you like some wine to start off with, darling?” Oikawa asks. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

The endearment is new, but you can’t seem to focus on that when your heart is hammering against your chest. Easing yourself into the seat pulled for you, you wet your lips, but even then you can’t quite seem to make the words come out. 

No matter, Oikawa chooses for you, murmuring the name of an italian vintage to the maître d' who nods approvingly and disappears, leaving the two of you alone.

“S-sir?” you finally manage to utter, though it comes out as more of a question than a greeting, “I- why is everyone…”

“Gone?” he supplies for you, taking a sip from his own glass. He shrugs leisurely, “I figured that it would be nicer if it were just us two, don’t you agree?”

No.

“Oh, um, yeah… I guess.”

He laughs, the sound like chiming bells and you know that he doesn’t believe you. It doesn’t matter, you’re here and alone and there is very little you can do to change either of those things. “So tense, Y/N. Really, you should relax. I would have thought after almost two years together, you’d know that I don’t bite.”

More images flash to the forefront of your mind; the sneer curling at his lips as he yanks out his pocket squares and uses it to wipe the splatter of blood from his face. One body on the floor, the other squirming away from his outstretched hand. The crunch of bones breaking, pleading whimpers and then-

No, Oikawa might not bite, but that doesn’t set you at ease.

But even now, doubt flickers. He can’t have known you were there, that you’d overheard the talk of shipments and bribes, a deal gone wrong. Nobody saw you come, you have your own set of keys. He can’t know.

He can’t know.

He can’t… 

Oikawa’s grin widens, twisting into a smirk. “Well, that, and I suppose that I don’t particularly think what’s about to be said makes for polite dinnertime conversation. At least not where most people are concerned.”

Fear strikes at your heart, constricting until it hurts to breathe, but you will your tense muscles to relax, force what you hope - pray - is a convincing expression of mild confusion and absolutely nothing else onto your face.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

It’s a wonder that he can’t hear the frantic pounding of your chest as he leans closer, dropping his chin onto a propped up arm, “Tell me something, darling. If I’d invited you back to my humble abode instead of this restaurant, would you have come?” 

You swallow tightly, the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. There’s a look in those pretty brown eyes, a glint of something darker, something amused - it reminds you of a cat toying with a mouse and it sets you on edge. “You did leave so quickly the last time you dropped by. You didn’t even stop to say hello.”

Ice douses your system as sheer panic spikes. You’re out of your seat before your brain even registers you’ve moved, knocking it clear from the table in your stumbling haste - but Oikawa’s faster. Long, pale fingers seize your wrist, keeping you in place with a deceptively strong grip.

Those fingers, trailing softly along the barrel of the gun. It’s more than cursory, there’s something almost loving and tender in the way he traces the smooth ridges of the weapon before he picks it up, testing its weight in his hand. Oikawa hums thoughtfully, eyeing the crying man kneeling before him. “Beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Sit back down.” His voice is pleasant, but even as adrenaline pumps through your veins urging you to run, to fight - you know better than to believe it’s anything less than an order. “Good girl,” he purrs as you fumble for your chair.

Back at the mansion, you’d been scared. Horrified at the cold brutality of what you’d witnessed, your entire world seemingly falling out from beneath you. But even with your thoughts a hysterical tangle and nausea threatening to overtake you, your only focus had been on getting out unseen.

This, sitting face to face with a mobster - a man you thought you knew - with all the cards laid bare before you… it’s a whole new kind of terror. He could kill you, with his hands wrapped around your throat or the gun he’s undoubtedly carrying, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re not strong enough to fight him off and the only other person you’ve seen since arriving is the maître d' - you might have wilfully walked into this trap, but you’re not so naive as to believe Oikawa doesn’t have him and any other employees working tonight firmly in his pockets. They won’t come if you scream. 

Tears prick at your eyes. 

You are utterly alone and entirely at his mercy, and all that you can do is beg.

“Please, please, sir, I… I swear I-I didn’t see anyth-”

A single raised finger stops you. Oikawa tuts, shaking his head. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Y/N. I know exactly what you saw, and I can guess well enough what you overheard. Certainly enough for those irritating little cops to start sticking their noses where they don’t belong if you decided to talk. Do you really think I’d leave my home open for just anybody to waltz in without my knowledge? Please, darling. What kind of a man do you take me for?” he laughs, and you fight back a broken plea, desperately biting down on your lip in an effort to stop yourself from crying.

“But,” he continues, reaching across the table to take your hand once more, “I don’t want you to worry about that, sweetheart. It’s in the past - and not why I asked you here.”

His thumb strokes the back of your palm causing goosebumps to prickle along your arms. Your heart is sitting in your throat, your stomach twisting in knots at the casual, innocent touch. You’re trembling in your seat, on the verge of ears and it feels like he’s testing you, except you don’t have a clue what you’re supposed to say, and you’re terrified that if you get it wrong, he’ll hurt you. “… I-it isn’t?”

Oikawa smiles, “No. I suppose in a way, it’s a blessing in disguise that you saw me for all that I am. It’s forced me to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

After a beat of silence and a gentle squeeze of your cold, rigid hand, you realise that he’s waiting for you to play along. “O-oh, um. What’s that?” your voice shakes, betraying the rapidly rising fear and panic eating away at you, but Oikawa pays it no mind.

“I understand why you resigned after witnessing what you did… it scared you, didn’t it? I scare you.”

There’s no point in lying, not when the evidence is right in front of him, so you nod.

He sighs heavily, but the amused glint in his eyes doesn’t shift. Even now, he’s still toying with you. “You’re a terrible actress,” he declares absentmindedly before his gaze sharpens. “There was always going to be an expiration date on our little arrangement, as much as I might have wished it otherwise.” 

There’s something strangely wistful in his expression as he toys with your fingers, but the words, the gilded implications woven between them, fly right over your head. All you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the sharp drag of every breath filling your lungs as you wait for the penny to drop. “We can’t go back to what we had before, but you understand, don’t you, darling, that I can’t just have you wandering around knowing what you do.”

Your stomach drops, eyes widening in abject horror, “Please - please, Oikawa sir-”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “If I offered you a choice; come willingly with me back home without making a fuss or I blow your pretty brains across the restaurant here and now, which would you pick?” he muses.

Fear is a funny thing. It makes the logical illogical, turns rational thought to mush, pushes you into a state of instinct that overrides everything else. Common sense would tell you that the threat of torture and whatever other nastiness that might await you back at Oikawa’s mansion was still the preferable option to the certainty of death at his hands should you refuse, but common sense had long since abandoned you. 

As a fresh wave of adrenaline surges through your veins, you rip your hand from his and leap to your feet. This time you don’t give him a moment, kicking off your heels to sprint for the door. Distantly you register the hissed curse behind you. All you can think of is escape, running until Oikawa and the restaurant and everything you’d seen and learned was left in the dirt behind you. You don’t want to die, but you can’t bear the thought of what he’ll do to you if you submit. Will he drag it out, make your death slow and painful? Let you rot in the basement, forgotten by everyone? Will he make you beg and plead for mercy before he ends it?

Fear makes you clumsy - it slows you down. 

You make it five steps before a pair of arms constrict around you, one around your waist, hauling you up from the floor, the other around your mouth, muffling the hysterical scream that rips from your throat. Legs flailing, kicking uselessly at nothing, you’re wrestled back inside. Oikawa’s lips are at your ear, growling something but you can’t make sense of the words over your harsh, panicked sobs, the sound of your frenzied pulse pounding in your ears. 

It’s only when you’re tossed like a sack of potatoes back onto the table, knocking the air from your lungs that time seems to slow and clarity returns. Oikawa’s looming over you, panting, dark pupils swallowing the iris, yet instead of the fury you expect to see written across his face, Oikawa is grinning - wide and delighted. 

“Wrong choice, baby,” he sings, quickly shucking off his jacket before grabbing the top of your dress and ripping. 

Your eyes zero in on the handgun strapped to his chest, just within arms reach. 

“But it’s okay,” he kisses you, moaning as he forces your mouth open, nipping harshly at your lips when you try to squirm away. “I forgive you, always sweetheart, you just have to make it up to me.”

[therenlover]

🍄 Zemo with Kiss promt #22. It gives me pride and prejudice vibes and like I was standing in the rain today so why not XD Congrats again on 1k!!! Can't wait to see more of you work! 😊

Thank you so much!!! I suddenly had inspiration for this idea and I’m really glad I got it down before I forgot about it lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Another Timeline, A Helmut Zemo x Baroness!Reader Drabble

Prompt: Kisses In The Rain with Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of the Sokovia Disaster

Word Count: 1100~

-------

You had been feet from death when the roof caved in.

No, not feet. 

Inches. 

Huddled together with Heinrich and Carl, you had only made it out of the house seconds before a massive chunk of rubble had dropped down and destroyed the entire front room. If you’d been even a few seconds slower while leaving, or if you’d chosen to try to go back for your phone, all three of you would have been dead, but spectacularly, you had made it. There was nothing left to do then but hold your son close and pile into Heinrich’s ill-suited Lamborghini as you made your way as far away from the ruins of Novi Grad as you could. 

In the end, you’d stopped at the nearest big city almost 3 hours after watching your home crumble to dust under a chunk of the capitol where your husband had been stationed. Catatonic, you’d made your way to an emergency relief center the locals had set up and then came the waiting. Two whole days of nothing but waiting. 

It rained the whole time.

The people were welcoming, of course, most of them happy to give up blankets or rations for the Sokovian royal family, but you declined their assistance where you could. At least you knew when the last hot meal you’d eaten was before this hell on earth. The people out here… well, you couldn’t say the same. Besides, you were far too anxious to eat or sleep anyways, so you passed any food you could on to your son or your father-in-law. There was something a bit more pressing you needed to do. 

Every day, from the crack of dawn until you finally passed out, you sat camped out by the one small radio that the camp had said up in the central tent, listening to the officials list off the names of those found dead after the disaster. Heinrich insisted that it wasn’t good for you, that the three of you should just drive over the border to Latveria and take shelter with the Von Dooms, but you refused to leave, because there, bundled in a shock blanket, you were waiting to hear Helmut’s name. “If he looks for us, he’ll look for us here,” you insisted, and so you stayed, all three of you, huddled together at the side of that radio as you tried to assure your son that everything would be okay. 

Only at the end of the second day did you rise from your spot to try to gather up some more supplies from another tent. 

It was just before sundown, though with the heavy cloud cover from a mix of precipitation and dust you could barely tell the difference between night and day anymore. By lamplight, you passed the huddled masses in search of a supply table or organizer of some kind. That’s when you heard his voice. 

“Do you have a list of all the people taking shelter here?” 

You didn’t trust your ears at first. In the darkness, it could have been any Sokovian man searching for his family. Above you, the rain fell in heavy, mucky drops that settled on your skin and streaked it with the remnants of the debris that hung heavy in the clouds. It was a trick of the night, that’s all.

“I’m sorry, sir, but-”

“Please. I have a wife and a son, their faces are known to the public, I just need to know if anyone has seen them here,” 

In an instant, you froze. Could it be?

“Baron, is that you?” 

That was the catalyst. You whipped around and there, in the gaudy white glow of an emergency camping lantern at a check-in table about 10 feet away, was Helmut. He looked awful, with dirt smeared across his face and uniform and tears in his eyes. Seeing him again, though, in any state made your heart stop. He was alive.

Your sudden pause must have caught his attention because in a second his eyes were on yours and he was running at a full sprint towards you through the mud. A soft sob escaped your lips as he captured you once again in his arms and pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. It didn’t matter that your house was nothing more than a pile of rubble. In Helmut’s arms, you were home. So you kissed him. You kissed him good and hard and breathless despite the black rain that poured above you until you couldn’t kiss him anymore.

“Schatz, I-” he gasped, wet hair dripping long dark streaks of water down his face that almost masked his tears, “Carl? Is he...” 

“Safe,” you nodded, “He’s safe and so is your father. They’re just inside that tent,” As you spoke, you gestured off in their direction.

“Mien Gott... Y/N I came back to the house and it was nothing but dust. I searched for you, for your bodies, for days…”

“We’re safe, Helmut. All of us are safe,” Your whole body seemed to tremble as you brought a hand up to his cheek. He relished in your touch, pressed into it, craved it and needed it like he needed sleep or air. For the first time in days, you felt halfway conscious of the fact that you had barely eaten or slept. It still didn’t matter though, not when you had just come back together. 

Something dark crossed Helmut’s features as he looked away from your face. “The Avengers and their hubris have destroyed our country, our people, our home… I can’t let them simply get away with this. They’ll pay for what they’ve done to us,” 

Slowly, you guided his face and gaze back to your own. It grounded him, gave him something to focus on other than the tremendous grief and loss that surrounded you on every side. “Once we’re somewhere safe and dry, we can ask Victor what can be done to hold them accountable, but for now can’t we simply be grateful that we’re all together again? For me?” 

He nodded, pulling you in for another, softer kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Schatzi,”

“Nothing good,” you murmured against his lips before pulling back, “Now, it’s time to go see your son,” 

Hand in hand, you trudged through the muck towards your future, thoughts of what could have been fully resigned to the back of your minds. Vengeance could wait, for now, you needed peace, and that was what you were going to get.

[butternuggets-blog]

Second Chances - MA15+ NSFW

@baronzemosupremist Your fanfiction, sir :) Sorry it took so long to write :(

Smut/Angst, Porn With Minimal Plot, Baron Zemo/Male Reader (__ used instead of Y/N because I think it looks neater)

He had been expecting jail. Fifty years or more spent in a small windowless concrete cube, with a few books and a toilet for company. Or death. He deserved to be shot. He had read the papers, listened to the staggered screams as the news reports smash-cut through video footage of the UN Conference in Vienna. Watched Nadia and Carl, and his father, be buried again and again every night in his dreams.

But with time served and James Barnes, of all people, defending him, he had been reluctantly released back into the general public. He knew the Wakandans were keeping an eye on him, and he had to report twice a week to a parol officer, but all in all he had quite a bit of freedom.

A lot of time on his hands.

Too much time on his hands.

In an odd twist of fate, he had wound up in a cramped apartment two blocks away from a branch of the Novi Grad Public Outreach Program. He still felt a slight twist in his gut every time he looked at the sign, but he went there every day, signing up for whatever needed doing.

Which is where he met him. A laugh so loud it echoed through the bustling centre, drawing chuckles from weary people who often didn’t feel like smiling. Bright intelligent eyes that were constantly scanning, ever observant, in case someone looked like they needed assistance.

A body that fit so snugly into jeans and a tank top that Zemo had walked straight into a wall the first time he spotted him.

It was getting a little embarrassing, to be honest. He’d had crushes before, but nothing that ever made him so flustered that he’d blushed right up to his ears. Nadia would have been in hysterics if she could see him now.

“Hey, what are the chances!’

Zemo blinked.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘I live here now! Apartment number nine’ _ gestured vaguely down the hall, and Zemo felt a stupid, dopey smile spread across his face.

‘Well, neighbour, why don’t you come in?’

‘Mmh, do you mind if I have some coffee? That smells amazing!’

‘Please, by all means’

‘Thanks’

They sat in companiable silence on the balcony for a while, Zemo trying desperately not to stare.  __ really was beautiful in the early morning light, the muted colours creating contrasts on his face. His stomach flopped. God, he was in love.

‘So I was wondering..’ __ fiddled with the mug in his hands, gathering himself, ‘I know it’s probably a little forward of me to ask but..would you like to sleep with me?’

Zemo choked on his coffee.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just-oh god’ __ winced and rubbed a hand across his face, ‘I mean, would you like to go on a date? Or..I’m sorry, I’m just not really used to asking, and you’re really hot, and I just..eurgh-’

‘Yes’ Zemo interrupted, fervently. __ peeked out from between his fingers.

‘Yes?’

‘Yes’ Zemo put down his mug and reached a hand out, tentatively placing it on  __ ‘s knee. ‘To both suggestions’

‘Ok, well, great’  __ put down his mug as well and gently placed a hand on top of Zemo’s. It was warm and comforting, and Zemo felt a sudden pang of fondness well up inside his heart.

__ rubbed slow circles with his thumb, then slowly laced their fingers together. Zemo shuffled closer, and the two shared a nervous chuckle.

‘Can...may I kiss you?’

Zemo hesitated, then nodded.

The kiss tasted like cappuccino, and felt like a thousand tiny crackling zaps of lighting through Zemo’s body. Every hair was standing on end, and as  __ deepened the kiss, he felt his toes curl and an anticipatory shiver roll up his spine.

‘Let’s take this to the bedroom’ Zemo whispered hoarsely.

__ nodded, brushing his nose against Zemo’s cheek. He went to stand up and  __ pulled him in close, putting Zemo’s feet on top of his own and leading him backwards towards the bedroom as he dragged lazy kisses across Zemo’s jaw.

They were both breathing heavily by the time  __ slowly lowered them onto the bed.  __ nibbled Zemo’s bottom lip, making him gasp, and leaned into a deep kiss, probing his mouth gently with his tongue.

Zemo moaned, his hands coming up and sliding under  __’s shirt. __ smiled and leaned back, sitting in Zemo’s lap as he helped him pull off his shirt. He let his hands roam back down __ ‘s chest, mapping the contours of his body and comitting them to memory.

Like Nadia.

His smile dropped and his hands stilled.

‘What is it?’

Zemo swallowed, unsure of what to say.

‘You lost someone, didn’t you?’  __ said quietly. __ stood up, taking Zemo’s hands in his own as he sat down beside him on the bed.

‘It’s okay if you want to stop’

‘No, I don’t but..it’s just..’

‘It’s still fresh, isn’t it?’

Zemo hung his head.

‘I mourned. I still mourn. But she’d want me to be happy again’ he mumbled. Slowly, so as not to startle him,  __ moved closer until their shoulders brushed.

‘Tell me what you want..what you need’

Zemo let out a shaky breath and unconciouslly wrapped an arm around  __ ‘s waist. He pressed his lips against  __ ‘s, not kissing but not withdrawing.  __  didn’t move; he let the moment linger, the pair suspended over the precipace.

‘I want to let it go’ Zemo breathed.  

 __ nodded.

__ kissed him back down onto the bed, running feather-light fingers down his sides and sliding his fingertips under the waist band of Zemo’s pyjamas. He slipped the silk pants down onto the floor, nipping and nuzzling sloppy kisses down Zemo’s chest as he slowly knelt.

He cupped a hand gently around Zemo’s balls, causing the other man to buck forward. Zemo shivered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him. It had been a long time, and he had not realised just how desperate his body was to be touched.

__ lowered his head to Zemo’s groin

‘Shh, just relax’

__ swirled his tongue around the head of Zemo’s cock, mouthing at it and licking.  Zemo flopped back onto the bed, his hips jerking forward.

‘Oh..OH GOD..yes..yeah like that-’

__ took Zemo’s cock in his mouth and began sucking in earnest, swallowing a little each time he pumped his fingers up and down the shaft. He couldn’t see his face from this angle- not completely- but the absolutely beatiful noises he was making more than made up for it.

‘Ah-ah-yes-YES-’

He used his free hand to sling Zemo’s legs over his shoulders, and then cupped his balls again. Zemo moaned louder, his chest rising off the bed, his thighs trembling.

‘UH-UH-MM...’m gonna-’ Zemo lurched up again, fists clenching the sheets so tight his knuckles turned white.   __ rolled his wrist and Zemo cried out, cum shooting down  __ ‘s throat as he swallowed.

__ wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, standing on shaking legs and taking his own neglected cock in hand. Zemo looked up at him with a slightly dazed expression, then frowned.

‘No, don’t’

__ managed to pause, and looked at Zemo, confused. Zemo rolled off the bed and onto the floor, steering __ onto the bed by the knees.

__ closed his eyes and moaned as Zemo licked along his shaft, bucking as Zemo swallowed him down. He was so keyed up it didn’t take long until _ shuddered, gasping and writhing as he came.

Zemo hauled himself slowly onto the bed, curling up against __.  __ threw out an arm, pulling him into a snug embrace as they drifted off to sleep. 

[teruthecreator]

okay. thoughts on the grad finale

gonna slap it under a readmore bc i’m Sure i’m gonna ramble. 

uh spoiler warning for the finale of taz graduation, as well as spoilers for the season in general.

also, these are my own thoughts of how the season went, what the themes were, etc! if you don’t agree with me, that’s fine! but i don’t wanna have a convo w you in the replies about it i’ll be honest. if you want to share your opinion so badly, make your own post, alright? that good? we cool?

aight. so. finale thoughts.

to make it short: i think the finale was a satisfying end of a very good arc. 

to expand upon that, let me share what i think the themes of graduation were and why the finale satisfies those themes. 

i made a post about this a while back (here it is if you want) but my honest belief was that the theme of graduation was self-reliance: the concept that you don’t allow yourself to be governed by forces that go against your own beliefs. this concept was coined by essayist ralph waldo emerson to talk about how the american people shouldn’t allow the government to create laws that go against the will of the people. now, understandably, this feels very anti-capitalist which is what i think a lot of fans believed was reflected through the season. 

but, in reality, self-reliance has more to do with being active in your government and making sure you’re being represented the way you want to be by your representatives. that’s sort of the vibe emerson was going for in his essay, and i think. in a sense? that translates to graduation. but i took self-reliance in the more metaphorical about breaking away from those things that are controlling you. which, in graduation, was A Lot Of Things. 

the way i saw it, there were two major groups that inflicted order upon the world and the thundermen--conveniently separated as order and chaos (not the deities though, just the concepts). 

the order half of control existed mostly through the school and the HOG. the HOG created the economic reliance on the heroes and villains system, which removed all literal meaning from those terms and turned them into bureaucratic titles. society existed under these very strict checks and balances; heroes and villains supplied money to the kingdom in terms of entertainment, which then boosted that kingdom’s creditability and allowed them to contribute more to nua’s economy, which then led heroes and villains to have a higher demand, thus perpetuating the cycle. it’s important to note that this term does not represent the sort of morality we expect for heroes and villains--hell, even the term “evil” turned into an arbitrary term used to show those heroes and villains who failed the system. this is the more prominent representation of control that the thundermen break away from in achieving their own self-reliance. they don’t see the value in a system that holds no real moral code (fitzroy Especially, but i’ll get into that in a bit), and can’t help the public when there’s actually a serious situation. as we saw with althea in the beginning, the HOG had no way to help the thundermen when they were dealing with the whole Demon Prince situation (as he had already placed some of his own people in there, proving these kind of systems are easily corruptible). so this wasn’t a system meant to Actually create heroes and villains--it was just a way of boosting the economy. 

the chaos half of control existed primarily through grey and Chaos. grey represented how chaos could be controlled, through various means. he planted that tree for the centaurs to fight over because he knew it would constantly create conflict, which he enjoyed. he kept the school under a watchful eye to prevent anyone from stepping out of line with his grand ideas, and used several manipulation tactics to try and get his way (most notably, his own admittance of grooming fitzroy into joining his side, which didn’t work). grey was the perfect example of how chaos does not automatically mean a lack of control. he was very controlling in how he did things because he had an endgoal: find hieronymous and have a war. but he didn’t even realize he was contributing to a greater idea, that being Chaos’s insistence on causing general disarray. as we realize now, Chaos’s plan was both for them and Order, but i’m leaving Order out for a second because they only really rear their head in towards the end. for the most part, audiences were led to assume that Chaos was the Big Bad(TM); they were the one pulling the strings, allowing things to happen to cause general chaos and disarray. them supplying random mortals with their endless power was a way to plant chaos into the world of nua; but it was a chaos they controlled. fitzroy resisting them was not simply a refusal to bend to Chaos, but it was resisting the control put on him through his magic. 

these systems were constricting the thundermen on both sides. when they thought they’d find help in one side, they were disappointed to find that there was nothing anyone could do. the only people who could fix their problems were...them. so they forged a new path, set new ideas, and became self-reliant. that’s what i think is the most important aspect of graduation; not the anti-capitalist implications of turning over the economic and political systems in place, but the idea that if nothing that is supposed to help you is actually helping that you can just...do your own thing! 

and i think that’s what the finale really shows, at the end of the day. that these forms of control were not doing anything helpful, and were in fact ruining the fabric of space-time! that’s where i think Order comes in because Order is really...the ultimate culmination of control. they are aware that Everything being done will benefit their cause. the HOG? well, they make sure everybody’s so incompetent that they can do their work. grey? well, he’ll contribute to the plan without even realizing it. they even manipulated Chaos and enacted their own form of control over Chaos to make sure that they had no reason to believe that this plan couldn’t go wrong. but Order knew. Order always knew there was a chance for error, and that chance was very great. but they didn’t care! so long as they had control of things, they could try a hundred times to get it right. they had no care for mortals, unlike Chaos. 

the thundermen showing Chaos the truth is the final jenga piece that collapses this tower of control. which is why the finale is so great. 

travis does a phenomenal job of incorporating chaos (general chaos) into the battle mechanics. it may be stupid and slightly arbitrary, but having them change forms randomly and having to adapt to those new circumstances really does exemplify the season!!! the thundermen were constantly forced into new situations (being sidekicks/henches, fitzroy becoming a villain, being let in on the heiro dog situation, the unbroken chain trial, joining forces w grey, etc.), and in all of them they simply found a way to adapt and keep working their way. which made the finale generally interesting and also thematically interesting! 

i think my favorite part of the entire fight scene is right at the end, when argo chucks the shark’s tooth necklace at Order. and time stops. and they’re given a choice. 

the fact that they leave it to a coin toss?? oh my god...how fucking FITTING!! like, that’s disorderly. that’s going your own way. it’s new, it’s terrifying, it has DIRE UNKNOWNS ON EITHER SIDE, but it’s what they do! and...it ends up working out! i think it would’ve worked out either way, but the fact that they left it up to chance really shows how they aren’t allowing anything to control their actions. 

AND THEN WE GET TO THE EPILOGUE. MY GOD I LOVE THE EPILOGUE I’M GONNA GO OFF SO MUCH. 

first off, i loved hearing how Nua adapts to losing this very significant form of government/economic contributor and turns to more people-based work. citizens uniting together, fixing things, making amends, THAT’S SELF-RELIANCE BABEY!!! THAT’S THE WHOLE EMERSON SHIT! HAVING A SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT THAT ACTUALLY HAS THE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE AT LARGE!!! YEAHHHHHHHHH THAT’S THE WHOLE SELF-RELIANCE THING!

now, i’ll break it down by characters: 

fitzroy

GOD. LOVE IT. FIRST OFF, absolutely ADORED how his character arc involved him stripping himself of these self-assigned titles because he actually has an identity that is all his own and he doesn’t NEED arbitrary titles to prove his worth because HE HAS IT IN HIMSELF. not to self-plug or anything, but that’s ssoss!fitzroy’s WHOLE SHIT. I’VE ALREADY BEEN ON THIS TRAIN, BITCH, AND TO KNOW I GOT IT SO RIGHT...GOD. FEELS GOOD. 

but also, i just really enjoy how his ending went in general. the fact that he doesn’t really know what he wants to do, so he just...does stuff he likes to do? that’s so good! because, if you remember, fitzroy had a Very set schedule of life events when the campaign started. he was going to get his wiggenstaffs degree, go back knight school, get his knight school degree, and then go to goodcastle. but all of that was based on a very limited understanding of himself. 

fitzroy’s character arc has primarily focused finding himself, specifically in terms of identity. for someone who was bullied for his past, the present formation of himself was Extremely important to fitzroy. he thought that shutting out his past and taking on this grandiose title of knighthood would make him something more than himself. he would no longer be fitzroy; the poor, country kid trying to make it in a big world. he’d be Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt; respected, honored, revered, with a title to prove it. 

he explains to fauxronymous (pre-reveal grey) that the reason he wanted to be a knight was because he wanted to assist in doing good. morally good. fitzroy has Always had a very clear sense of his morality; this comes through when he refuses Chaos on the basis of many people having to die if he agreed. but being a knight also had the added of bonus of a very respectable title that no one would want to look beyond, which fitzroy felt he needed because...i don’t think he Saw anything beyond that. in himself. he wasn’t himself for a very long time, and i don’t know if he ever thought he would be again. he’d wear this new identity, start a new life, and be happier....he hoped. 

then, things changed! and he started to realize that arbitrary titles don’t do shit because plenty of people with Big Important Titles ended up being Awful People! so he started to value himself For Himself; his wit, his humor, his strength, his magical prowess. and, i think, he started to wonder what knighthood was Really about. was it about upholding a moral good? or was it just another bureaucracy filled with people who won’t do shit when things get bad. 

i think this is why him becoming a lawyer is fitting. especially because of the reasoning he gives sylvia nite. now for A LOT OF PEOPLE, i’m sure they hear lawyer and assume some corporate hotshot who doesn’t give a shit about people. but fitzroy is Not applying to be a corporate laywer. he SPECIFICALLY telsl sylvia that he wants to help people who cannot help themselves, and he wants to do good in that way. THAT kind of lawyer is more of the pro-bono, district lawyer. the ones that don’t make crazy amounts of cash, but help those who cannot afford lawyers and represent them when the government is fucking them over. those lawyers don’t rely on title, they rely on principle. 

that’s the perfect representation of fitzroy’s growth. holding his identity within himself, while still trying to do good by those who need it. 

firbolg (aka gary) 

i think the firbolg’s ending is so unique but so...right for him. his character arc has really been focused around finding his family. he had one, in the beginning, in his clan. but that didn’t end up, y’know...working out that much. so he had to go out into the world alone--something that firbolg’s are rarely--and try and navigate these foreign spaces all by himself. 

we see very early on how he latches onto the idea of groups. he likes being considered a part of the thundermen; he very much hoists himself upon the CFO title and wears it proudly. i think, where fitzroy needed to find identity within himself, the firbolg needed to find it within other people. which is completely okay! he’s still an individual, but you can tell he finds comfort in numbers because that’s what he is used to. 

him going back to his clan was, i believe, his finally severance with his identity as “firbolg”. he would never be welcomed back to his clan, and one of the few people in his life who supported him was now dead. but his father was proud of him; his father was happy he seemed to find his own clan, even if it wasn’t with other firbolgs. from that moment on, i think the firbolg begins to try finding himself within the thundermen. within his friends.

so his epilogue is neat! it definitely captures the loneliness he feels on his own, and how he feels lost with himself without others. i think it might seem silly to some that he would become a gary, but i think it’s fitting. the garys were always present in his time at school, and they were always helpful. they didn’t mind how long it took him to talk because the gary’s are stone gargoyles--what the fuck do they care about time? it was a group that the firbolg saw as familiar to him--always willing to help, slow, stony, and attuned to a larger group. 

and i think the way gary takes this idea of unity and family and puts it into financial assistance just...it just ties everything together! we saw how attached he got to the concept of finances, thanks to his very confusing accounting class. so he had all of this new knowledge--this knowledge that represented a separation from firbolgs--and this new clan. and he used it to help other clans and families!! i think the fact that the Garys financial advice works specifically with groups is what makes this so fitting. because gary wants families to feel stable within themselves; he understands how finances can create struggle and divides, and he wants to provide relief. 

giving financial advice to communities so they rely on themselves and not the government (aka inviting them to be controlled once more) is a VERY self-reliant concept. not that i think gary’s goal is to have no social networks to exist, but he wants to give communities the ability to rely on one another and foster that feeling of togetherness. so groups aren’t fighting over things, but are trusting and loving and relying. 

just like gary’s always wanted. and just like what he has with the thundermen.

argo 

argo’s ending is probably the funniest, but also the sweetest. i think that argo’s character arc revolved around finding his place. we see how argo’s early personality and motivations revolved around his past. he very much had a revenge story since the start; he wanted to enact revenge on the commodore for murdering his mother, no matter what it took. which made him very limited!! in terms of the self. he saw himself less for what he was now, and what he was then. and what he couldn’t do then. 

we see how much he finds comfort in being a part of the thundermen, but also how he feels...out of place. i think this is because a part of him is still attached to his past and doesn’t think he can do anything beyond his set plan. the unbroken chain certainly contributes to this, by not only separating him from the trio but also reinforcing his connection to his past through his mother’s involvement in the unbroken chain. 

the commodore also being a part of the unbroken chain is, i think, what causes the shift from past to present within argo. his life’s goal is standing right in front of him--attached to the group his mother once was a part of--with his friends at his side. letting the thundermen in on his history is the start of bridging these two halves of argo. and the fact that the thundermen are so willing to helps makes argo feel more a part of the team and more a part of this reality. 

when he kills the commodore, it isn’t intense. it isn’t overly dramatic (minus the fight prior, which was BADASS), it isn’t crazily staged. it is argo, staring down the commodore who lies prone on the ground. 

he kills himself unceremoniously and completes his life-long mission. 

what becomes of him in the epilogue is the culimination of both past and present. he takes what he knows and loves (the sea, the mariah, sailing) and blends it with what he’s come to love now (his friends, this adventure, and making people happy). there are SO many instances where argo uses performance to his advantage. this man is piloted by clint mcelroy, of COURSE he’s going to have a flair for the dramatic. 

so for him to open up a themed cruiseline, based on the stories of him and his friends? SO FITTING. and it isn’t forcing himself to leave his past behind or to completely ignore his present circumstances. because he’s found a place in the now, in the merging of these two sides. and by merging them, he paints a bright future for himself. a future that is partially known, partially not. partially old, partially new.

but it’s all his. 

after that, i think their final scene is just...sweet. a nice, jovial, joking send-off to a nice season. it proves these people have grown and will continue to grow, even when we no longer see their story. it does exactly what graduation does--shows you a struggle, a triumph, and a glimpse into the future. 

i’ll miss it so much, but there’s nothing more i could’ve asked of this ending. it was exactly what it needed to be; nothing more, nothing less. 

[jerzwriter]

Miami Getaway

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)

Summary: Ethan and Casey take a desperately needed vacation, but the green-eyed monster keeps visiting Ethan.

Category: Fluff – One Off

Warnings: none

A/N: This is going out to @adiehardfan who asked for a jealous Ethan. This is not related to any other stories I’m writing - just for a little fun.

A/N2: Participating in @wackydrabbles​ this week, the prompt is in bold below.

Word: 1178

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

Even though his eyes were hidden behind his dark sunglasses, he still averted her gaze. His clenched jaw and stony expression appeared even more pronounced because his focus was on swaying palm trees and gentle waves across from the sidewalk café where they were seated. He had yet to find any humor in the situation, something that made it even harder for Casey to contain her laughter as she peeked up at him from under her wide-brimmed hat.

“Señor, señorita…” the waiter said pleasantly while placing two decadent frosty, tropical beverages on the small white table that separated them.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much,” Casey said as she picked up Ethan’s beverage and pulled it closer to her own. “But I think the gentleman might need something a little stronger today.

Can you bring him a glass of your finest scotch, neat.”

“Of course! Would you like me to take this away?” he asked motioning to the extra drink.

“No, I think I’ll be needing that.”

He finally turned toward her. “You’re very funny,” he deadpanned.

She gently kicked him under the table and broke out into a fit of giggles.

A small smirk, minuscule even, came to his lips, but even that was an improvement.

Their long day started at 5:15 AM as they left his condo for an early flight out of Logan. Casey met their Uber driver downstairs as Ethan was running a little behind. The handsome young driver shot Casey an enchanting smile as he placed the final suitcase in the trunk, “I know it’s not customary, but would you like to sit upfront? It’s a bit nippy and the passenger seat is extremely comfortable and heated.”

Ethan had become accustomed to men, and women, being flirtatious with his beautiful girlfriend, but as they set off for some much needed rest and relaxation, he was in no mood.

“Thank you,” he said abruptly placing his arm around her, “but I think I can manage to keep her plenty warm in the back.”

The driver nodded politely as he opened the back door, “Of course, sir, this way.”

Amused, Casey raised her eyebrow and shook her head.

“What?”

“Nothing dear.”

Arriving at the airport, Casey barely had one leg out of the car, when several skycaps came running over to assist her with her bags. It was no wonder, looking resplendent in her tropical sundress that hugged every curve exactly right, she was a vision to behold.

“Ma’am, I can help you.”

“I was here first; I will help her!”

Throwing two carry-on bags over his shoulder and loudly snapping the handle on their suitcase up, Ethan announced, “We don’t need any assistance. You can find someone else to bother!”

Casey grinned slightly and walked over to Ethan. Placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Baby, why don’t you let me carry one of those.”

“That’s not necessary, I’m happy to carry it for you,” he said glaring at the skycaps who quickly turned away.

Waiting at the gate, Ethan stepped away to use the men’s room. Casey took out her iPad and began reading. Within moments, several grad school students wearing Boston University t-shirts sat near her.

“Hey, are you on the flight to Miami?”

Casey gazed up at the gate number, “I think that’s why we’re all here.”

“Miami is wild this time of year! Lots of parties! Where are you staying, maybe we can meet up?”

“I will be in Miami for a bit of rest and relaxation with my…”

“Is there someone else you can harass? Or better yet, could you show a modicum of self-control and leave other passengers alone,” Ethan glared as he returned to his seat next to Casey.

“We’re good, we’re good,” one of the men said as they all stood and scattered.

Casey chuckled as she snuggled under Ethan’s arm and returned to her reading.

“You know, you really don’t have to do this, hun. You have nothing to be jealous of.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, you are jealous.”

“No, I’m…”

“Buddy,” an older man across the way interrupted, “you’re jealous. Capeesh?”

Casey laughed as Ethan turned a brighter shade of crimson.

After taking a taxi to their hotel, they settled in their room and Casey headed downstairs to get them a table at the café off the lobby. A beautiful young woman greeted her at the hostess station. Casey smiled warmly and requested a table for two. As she was seated, the hostess said, “I hope you’ll be coming here often, I work every breakfast, lunch and Thursday and Friday nights, if you’re here with friends…”

Ethan came from behind and took his seat. “She is not here with friends, she is here with me. Does your boss know you have nothing better to do than waste your time flirting with your customers?”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying,” the hostess said with a wink as she walked away.

“Ethan…” Casey said giving him a playful stare.

“Not right now…” he said turned his gaze toward the tranquil beach beyond Ocean Drive in an attempt to cool down.

After finishing their lunch, they crossed the street to take a stroll on the beach.

“Ethan, you have to stop. You know you have nothing to be jealous of. On an up-note, we are now in Miami Beach, this place is swimming with models from all over the world. I doubt anyone will even notice me.”

Just then a roller bladder passing by gave Casey a double-take and promptly crashed into a pole, causing him to fall to the ground.

Ethan seethed.

“Sorry, my bad.. my bad..” the roller bladder said lifting himself off of the ground.”

“You were saying?” Ethan snapped.

Casey stopped walking and turned him around to face her.

“Babe, do you have any idea how many women have given you the once over since we left Boston this morning?”

“None.”

“That is completely inaccurate. And did you notice the barista batting her eyelashes at you at the airport? Or the way the front-desk clerk pushed her co-worker out of the way rushing over to assist you when we checked in?”

“No. But if they did, doesn’t it bother you.”

“No. I know have nothing to worry about, and it’s the price I have to pay for having such a hot boyfriend. Besides, if I ever do feel a twinge of jealousy, all I do is remind myself that they don’t get to do this to you.”

She leaned in and gave him a warm, lingering kiss.

“Well, that might help,” he said with a grin.

“So, try that next time that little green monster creeps up. I have faith in you, I know you can do it.”

“I guess I can, but I need some practice. How about once more – for good luck.”

He pulled her in for an even more passionate kiss, leaving her breathless.

“Now I think I can do this,” he grinned placing his arm around her.

Casey smiled up at him, “I never doubted you.”

@openheartfanfics @adiehardfan @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles @helloayz @barbean @dottie-minerva-mikas @secretaryunpaid @chemist-ana @schnitzelbutterfingers

[cyraclove]

Higher Pursuits

BOTW Grad School AU

-

-

“...so, if you do decide that you’ll be writing a thesis in lieu of the comprehensive examination, I’ll be the one you’ll need to speak with.”

Zelda scribbled furiously in her notebook as Dr. Kaneli continued to speak, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose every few minutes like clockwork. He’d come to Dr. Teba’s diagnostics lecture that morning to speak about research opportunities, accompanied by several of his current research assistants. 

“No need to decide right this moment, of course,” he said, “but we will be needing your name and thesis topic by the end of your first year if you do select that track.” 

Thesis by end year one, she scrawled onto the paper. 

God, a thesis. She’d dreamt of this moment. 

Had Zelda ever wanted anything more than to write a thesis? What greater pleasure was there than to delve so completely into research that you know every facet of it like you know the letters of your own name? The plethora of potential opportunities was exhilarating, her mind running rampant at the very notion of selecting one. 

A hand suddenly covered hers, causing her pen to scratch to a halt. 

She glanced up to see Link staring at her, an eyebrow cocked in her direction. 

“What?” She whispered, “I’m taking notes.” 

‘Just listen,’ he signed, ‘You don’t have to write down every word he says.’

She felt a smile tug at her lips as she rolled her eyes. “We’ll see who’s coming to who with questions in a few weeks.” 

Link grinned brightly, waving a hand at her in dismissal. 

“My personal field is neurological disorders,” Kaneli explained, recapturing Zelda’s undivided attention, “and if you have any interest in my research, do let me know. I am always in need of hardworking graduate assistants. It’s not easy work, mind you, but we do have fun.” 

The professor then paused to smile at a young man seated amongst the other second year students In the front row. 

“I’m sure you can attest to that, Mr. Medoh,” he teased cheerily. A few of the others around him chuckled lightly. 

From where she and Link were sitting in the lecture hall, it was impossible to see his face. Even when craning her neck a bit, Zelda could only glimpse locks of raven hair that dusted the man’s shoulders, several strands pleated into delicate braids while some was piled atop his head in a haphazard bun. 

Medoh, she wrote hastily in the margins. 

Link tapped the table to get her attention before furrowing his brow and asking, ‘Why?’. 

She shrugged. “Might be good to have second year connections. And quit reading over my shoulder.” 

Link’s face took on a sly expression as he eyed her curiously. With two fingers, he gestured a circle around his face before pointing to the man in the first row. 

“Handsome?” Zelda scoffed, “How can I think that he’s handsome when I can’t even see him? You hush.”

He waggled his brows at her. ‘I’m not talking,’ he signed. 

“You know what I mean,” she said. “You can make that joke all you want and it still won’t be funny.” 

“Ah, does someone there in the back have a question?” 

Zelda’s face prickled hot as nearly everyone in the room swiveled around to look at her. She froze, damning her immoveable tongue for not immediately coming to her rescue with a response. She barely heard Link sniggering beside her as she stared blankly at Dr. Kaneli, an expectant look on his face. 

Her gaze was drawn downward to a pair of green eyes staring up from beneath thick, dark lashes. 

The young man that Kaneli had called Mr. Medoh was now looking directly at her, incredulity marring his brow. His sharp, almost bird-like features gave him a stern appearance, the strong cut of his jaw curtained by wisps of hair. The striking emerald of his irises was offset by the deep, rich tone of his bronzed skin. 

Oh. He was handsome. 

Someone cleared their throat.

“Ms. Farore,” Dr. Teba prompted from his seat in the corner, “did you have a question or didn’t you?” 

“Oh, no. Uh, sir. No, sir,” she stammered, “I didn’t...um, no. Sorry.” 

Teba pursed his lips and hummed his disapproval, but said nothing more. He instead encouraged Kaneli to continue, apologizing for the interruption. Zelda’s pulse thundered in her ears as she caught a hint of a smirk on the dark-haired man’s face just before he turned back around. 

She wanted to die. 

And, maybe, smack Link. 

The remainder of the lecture went quickly, though Zelda registered only a quarter of anything that was said. She still felt hot with humiliation, her embarrassment taking the uncomfortable form of sweat; she could think only of how badly she wished she had a stick of deodorant and a new blouse. 

When Kaneli and Teba finally concluded and announced dismissal, Zelda slumped down into her chair and covered her face with her hands. She sat amidst the shuffling of papers and zipping of book bags, letting the rest of the class file out until she and Link were the only two left in the large hall. 

When she finally peeked through her fingers at Link, she saw him looking just as remorseful as he could, signing ‘sorry’ on his chest. 

Zelda sighed. “Oh, don’t look at me that way. I’ve already forgiven you, you know that.” 

He beamed at her, and she suddenly remembered why it was impossible to ever be cross with him in any capacity. He stacked his fists then, twisting one atop the other as he raised his brows in question. 

“Yeah, coffee sounds good. You’re buying.” 

_ 

The Café Bar was bustling with students just being released from class, flocking in from outside to escape the chilly October air and scrambling for a place in line. Others stood idly by and scouted for empty tables, often to no avail. Though there were several places to go for coffee on campus, the little, locally-owned coffee shop that sat just near the university was by far the most popular. 

The gentle hiss of milk being steamed and the pleasant gurgle of fresh coffee brewing could just be heard above the sound of light jazz mingling with idle chatter. Cups and saucers clinked as they were cleared from tables. Zelda inhaled deeply, the comforting scent of espresso a welcome respite. 

“I have a vanilla latte with extra whip on the bar!” 

She nudged Link with her elbow to get his attention. They had managed to procure their favorite spot; a small circular table over by the large bay window that sidled right up to the window seat. He looked up from his phone. 

“That’s you,” she said. He nodded and stood with a smile, lightly touching her shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze as he slipped behind her. Zelda smiled to herself before returning to the article that she’d been perusing, a clinical research study on the affects of naturalistic treatment protocols on aphasic patients. She’d not even read five words when she heard her name being softly called from across the café. 

“Zelda, over here.” 

A petite, red-headed young woman came striding towards her, her arms piled with books. Zelda hopped up from her chair to lighten her load, carefully taking a few of the books off of the top. 

“Oh, Mipha, let me help you. Where’s your--wait, here, set them on the table.” 

She thanked her profusely as she plunked the remaining books on the tiny table, making it wobble sadly on its narrow legs. She slid onto the window seat, shrugging her blue sweater from her shoulders. Her cheeks were a pretty, wind-bitten pink as she smiled warmly, releasing a sigh of relief. 

“I thought you’d already gone home,” Zelda said, “And what are all of these for?” 

 “Oh, these are my textbooks for this semester. I’ve just been to the bookstore to pick them up,” she explained. She screwed up her face. “They didn’t have the one I need for my biochem class, though. I preordered that one, too.” 

“You need all of these?” Zelda asked, brows raised in awe as she mentally tallied the books. 

Mipha nodded resignedly. “Yes, all of them. That’s what I get for deciding to get my master’s in marine biology, I suppose. I’m on my way to the apartment, but I thought I’d stop and grab a latte or so—” she paused, copper eyes shifting their attention from Zelda’s face to just behind her. “Oh, Link, hello.” 

Link nodded cheerfully at Mipha with a mug in one hand and a plate holding the largest muffin that Zelda had ever seen in the other. She kicked out his chair for him with her foot and he sat, gingerly placing his coffee on the table. He signed ‘thank you’ with his free hand, the other still absentmindedly clutching the plate as his eyes swept the café. Mipha and Zelda gave one another a quick, knowing look.  

“Sidon’s still at the rec with Bazz,” Mipha mentioned, a smile in her voice, “He told me to tell you ‘hi’, though.” 

Zelda watched Link’s jaw visibly clench as he sucked in a breath through his nose. 

‘He did?’ 

Mipha nodded. 

Link bit the inside of his cheek, and then quickly shrugged and focused his attention on making a dent in the mountain of whipped cream on his coffee. 

‘That’s cool,’ he told her, ‘Tell him hey, I guess.’

The redhead turned to Zelda for a translation; she was with the two of them so frequently now that she’d been able to pick up quite a bit of ASL, but still needed occasional help. Zelda found that Link was particularly difficult to understand when the subject of conversation was Sidon, simply because his hands moved twice their normal speed. 

“He said to tell Sidon that he’s the most handsome man he’s ever seen and that he’d love to go on a date sometime,” Zelda answered casually, unlocking her phone to open up her article again. 

Link nearly choked on a piece of muffin. 

“I have an americano with cream on the bar!” 

“Be right back,” Zelda chimed as she got up to get her drink, looking back briefly to see Link signing ‘wrong’ on his chin repeatedly. She chuckled inwardly and turned back around, only to collide with an oddly familiar looking green cardigan. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, backing up, “That’s my fault. I wasn’t even paying attention.” 

“Evidently not.” 

Zelda’s eyes flicked up at the foreign voice, her heart leaping into her throat as she realized with whom she was speaking.

Oh, shit. 

Handsome braids guy. 

“Uh, hi. Again,” she muttered, hopelessly lost for anything else to say. 

He gave her a queer look. “Again?” 

“Um. I mean, yeah. You were just in Dr. Teba’s lecture? You came with Dr. Kaneli. For the, uh, research. Thing.” 

The corner of the young man’s mouth quirked up ever so slightly as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Right. You didn’t have a question.”

Zelda felt her cheeks burn at the very mention of the incident, her chest tightening at the memory. The man raised a brow at her, an irritatingly amused expression on his face. She felt her eye twitch. 

“Yes, well. If you’ll excuse me. Sorry, ag--” 

A barista interrupted.

“Americano with cream to-go!” 

Green cardigan stepped up to the bar to accept the coffee, thanking the woman who’d handed it off with an actual smile. Zelda watched him, dumbfounded, as he hoisted his messenger bag up onto his shoulder and glanced in her direction for a fraction of a second before heading for the door. 

“Wait!” 

The words had flown out of her mouth before she’d even had time to register them. Perfectly annoyed, he stopped to turn and face her, his eyes on her in silent query. 

“About Dr. Kaneli’s research lab,” she began, “are there still spots open for new assistants right now?” 

His demeanor changed at the question and he adopted a defensive, almost territorial stance. He studied her closely, eyeing her with an uncomfortable thoroughness; as though he were sizing up a rival. 

“Yes,” he drawled, “Why?” 

“I’d like to apply,” she responded, maybe too quickly. 

He sucked his teeth. “Interesting. Well, come by the office at the clinic if you want an application. They’re due in a week.”

Zelda grinned, nodding excitedly. “Oh, that’s excellent. I’ll definitely be by, then. Thank you, um...” she paused, chewing her lip, “Sorry. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

Making for the door once again, he left Zelda with her mouth partly open, staring after him in quiet disbeleif. His fingers brushing the handle, he hesitated, looking back over his shoulder. 

“It’s Revali,” he said, and was gone. 

Zelda stood in place for a while until he was completely out of sight, her mind fumbling with the entire interaction. Her stomach had twisted itself into a squirmy knot, a feeling with which she was unfamiliar. She felt like she’d somehow been both insulted and praised at the same time. 

Revali, she thought to herself.

What a dick. 

-

-

I hope you enjoyed this completely self-indulgent drabble of a Grad School AU that I’m considering. The more I think about this ship the more I like it. Thanks for reading! @botwrareships

[star-birthmark]

Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader

Finally... FINALLY IT IS DONE! This is infernal ask that has been in my inbox for so long!!! Thank you to @stardustbrosaders for the request all those months ago lol. This was the request: “Heya! Would it be possible to write a P4! Jotaro x Female! Reader where the reader gets her stand under stress from a battle? The group almost gets defeated but the reader’s stand appears and she beats the enemy, saving everyone? For the readers stand type could it be close range like SP and CD?”

I also drew the reader’s stand for this fic. You can find a link to the stand info here. 

This is a long ass fic btw. It’s literally 11 THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t know what compelled me to make the fic this long. I really don’t. But I did and here we are. I hope you like it, no matter how long it is!

Quick content warnings: General violence and angst, strangulation, murder (duh)

Without further ado: Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader (11k words)

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but it had just been a long day, and no progress had been made to capture that force. The team’s morale was low. The exhausted high school students stumbled home to catch a good night’s rest, thoughts of ongoing danger in their small town looming over their heads. The young manga artist Rohan Kishibe grumbled to himself about his failures, wondering how a genius like him could not decipher this mystery like he had last time. You felt a heavy air of unrest lay over the town as you awkwardly shifted in your seat on the ride to the Grand Hotel, looking over at your travel mate as he silently ran over the facts in his head. He shook his head in frustration. None of this made any sense. All the victims had been killed in the same way, so it must be a stand, one that didn’t leave behind any evidence, one potentially even more dangerous than Kira. 

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but you didn’t know anything about the first monstrous event that had occurred. The small town’s silent saviors all agreed with one another to seal their lips and tell no one what had really happened. Not that anyone would have believed them. 

But you would have. Your travel partner didn’t know anything yet, but the more time you two spent in this strange town, the crazier you felt you were becoming. You were seeing objects levitate in the air, you were seeing arms stick out from these bizarre teenagers. At this point, you’d believe anything just to make it all stop. You stumbled inside from the taxi, convinced this small town was driving you insane. 

Your partner turned to you in front of your hotel room, his own room right next door, and placed his large hands on your shoulders. 

“Are you alright (y/n)? If any of this investigation gets to be too much for you, just tell me and I’ll send you on the next flight back home.” 

You snort tiredly. “Too much for me? Jotaro you look exhausted… You haven’t been taking breaks from the case at all…  You’re always so anxious. Do you promise you’ll actually go to bed this time?” 

Jotaro looked down at you and moved his hands from you, sighing heavily. “Yeah… I promise…” 

You give him a shy smile before shrugging. “Besides… you need me, don’t you? Weren’t you the one that said I’m the only one that calms you down?” 

Jotaro gulped and broke eye contact with you, his own silent way of admitting that you were right. You chuckled and opened the door to your hotel room, giving him one last look and goodnight before you left to go to bed. You would wake up about two hours later from the sound of your partner’s shuffling about in his room next door. You slipped on a thick crew neck over your thin tank top and shorts and open to the door connecting to the two rooms. 

You peaked your head past the door to find a familiar sight before you. Pictures were tacked onto a corkscrew board, red thread connecting the dots to draw the group one step closer to solving the crimes. Files were splayed out over the desk, a map of the small Japanese town resting on the nearby bed, etched with red Xs displaying the sites where several young men and women met their demise. Amongst the mess, you found the broad shoulders of a tired Jotaro Kujo hunched over the desk, the young man still looking at the mountains of documents, eager to find the path to justice. It was hidden in those pages, he was sure of it. It had been your third night together in that hotel, and it was evident that you two would be there for much longer.  

---

“Miss (L/N) it says here that you have received your degree in zoology and graduated at the top of your major.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it says here that you recently led an academic study of marine biology that went very well back home.”

“Yes sir, and it would be an honor to join this esteemed team of scientists here at SPW.”

It was the year 1998, and you were interviewing to work at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had graduated atop your class, and had a passion for your work that few possessed, as well success that few could show for. You prayed that this interview was going well. The Foundation was the utmost important center of scientific research in the world and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to work there. You watched the smile on your interviewer’s face as he reviewed your credentials before setting the paper down. 

“Miss (L/N) I’d like to welcome you aboard our team. I believe you will contribute much to our efforts.”

Your face lit up in excitement and you rushed to shake his hand. “Thank you so much sir, I won’t let you down! If I could ask what position you’re hiring me for?”  

“You see we have an opening for an assistant with the Kujo lab. Since you’re just starting off here- you’ll be assisting him in meetings and in bench work-”

“Excuse me... the Kujo lab? As in Jotaro Kujo? Isn’t he my age?” You interrupt nervously. 

“Why yes miss… is there an issue?”

“Well no sir it’s just… I thought perhaps I’d be working under an esteemed professor… I didn’t think someone fresh out of grad school would already have a lab to himself… Not to sound ungrateful of course, I just didn’t realize I would be working under one of my contemporaries…” 

A sigh came to the man and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to explain the situation. 

“Miss (y/n), the reason I’m placing you in Kujo’s lab is that I feel the two of you would work well together, given your similar backgrounds and parallel personalities…” You furrow your brow, unsure what the supervisor meant until you were face to face with Jotaro Kujo himself a few days later. 

You still remembered the day well. You hung your coat up on a nearby hook and looked about the lab. Documents were piled over every available surface with no particular organization. A large fish tank stood in the far corner, a wild variety of fish encased within. Anatomical posters of aquatic life were all over the walls, and right by the window sat Jotaro. He hadn’t looked up when you came in. Approaching his desk, you stared down at the mass of black hair on the top of his head. Soon clearing your throat, the young doctoral student’s head shot up to look at you blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, taken aback by his unemotional expression, nervously turning to a notebook you had on hand.

“Uh… um… My name is (y/n) (l/n), your new coworker. I would like to thank you for allowing me into your lab. I had been going over your most recent papers on the social patterns of starfish on the eastern-most coast of Japan and I was just wondering if-”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” 

You looked up from your notes and into the young man’s deep blue eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You struggled to form a sentence under the intense gaze, your breath shuttering out from your lips, and you looked back down at your notes. 

“I’m (y/n) (l/n)... your new coworker.” 

Jotaro nodded slowly, considering what you had just said. You watched as he removed his large white overcoat and leaned back in his chair, donned in a fitted black t-shirt. 

“Why did they hire you?” You lean forward confused, your ear facing him. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Why did they hire you?” 

You look away for a moment, considering his now nervous expression, his nervous tick of chewing on his lip, his small twitches of the eye, his clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You looked down, finding his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor. A small, sweet smile came to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, alerting his attention. 

“You and I apparently have parallel personalities… according to them.”

You watched as Jotaro’s lips curved into a shy smile and he got up from his seat, grabbing a notepad from a nearby drawer. He then turned to you and extended his arm out, pointing. You followed the direction of his hand and saw a separate desk facing his at the other end of the office. You turned back and quickly nodded, rushing to set your things down and then turning to face him once more. 

Jotaro nodded courteously at you. “Have you read my most recent work?” 

“Yes, I just told you that I did that-”

“Good. Come to the meeting with me then.”

You followed after him into a nearby boardroom, unsure of the situation about to befall you. The meeting began. Executives discussed their most recent funding prospects, deciding whether or not to continue their spending, depending on how successful the trials had been. You sat patiently in your chair, listening to the others argue frankly amongst themselves. A steady, fast tapping upon the table commanded your attention and you turned over to see Jotaro staring off into the distance, his fingers rapidly tapping on the desk, his whole form shaking with sensory overload. 

“Mr. Kujo? And you?” You watched as Jotaro’s head shot up and he looked around the room. He hadn’t been listening, his mind had been too overcome with anxieties. 

“I um… I uh… W-what were-” 

You watched nervously as this man came undone at his seams. You cleared your throat and tapped the table next to his notepad. Getting the message, Jotaro grabbed the notepad quickly and anxiously flipped through its pages. 

“Um… sorry about that. I would like to further my research- wait no this is on the wrong page. Wait no it’s not… wait-” 

You looked around as the listeners began to get frustrated, looking at each other in jest of one of their top researchers. You chewed nervously on your finger, hoping Jotaro would pull himself together. It was your first day working with him, and it was already troublesome.

“I would like to further the research done in my penultimate paper. Or was it my most recent...”

“Mr. Kujo, we would have liked for you to have prepared for this meeting…” 

“No no… I did. I did. Wait-”

With a quick motion, you reached over and placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, calmly taking the notepad from him and then turning to the group. Jotaro looked away, still visibly shaken. 

“Mr. Kujo clearly states in his most recent paper that he plans to continue his research, at a different coastal region, comparing more behaviors there to make sure that this past successful trial wasn’t any sort of spontaneous fluke. He writes in his goals of perhaps inspecting the regional colonies of starfish around S-Town… Following that, he plans to remain in contact with the genomic department and track genetic similarities between human and aquatic life that may explain the similar social patterns between the two.” 

You explain to them all, having memorized the paper. Turning to the notepad, you saw what Jotaro had written in preparation for the meeting. You then turned back to the investors.

“Mr. Kujo kindly asks that you aid him in his funding so that mankind as a whole may find a better understanding of the natural world… That’s all he wanted to say. He just couldn’t find the right page. Sir.”

You reached back and placed the notepad back near Jotaro’s shaking hand. You returned your hand back to the other’s shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure the scientist that he was alright. The young man turned to you in a bit of surprise, not expecting your presence to calm him oh so much. The executives all took in your words and the head of the meeting slowly nodded. 

“Well… thank you for your assistance, miss…?” 

“(l/n).”

“Right well thank you… We will consider Mr. Kujo’s work for a second trial.”

“Thank you. He appreciates it.” With that, you let go of Jotaro’s shoulder.

The meeting soon adjourned, You got up to leave your seat when you felt Jotaro’s hand grab your shoulder. You turned around to see him slowly stand up from his chair. 

“Thank you. I’m not a big fan of speaking to them…”

You nodded quickly. “Yes…  of course…”

From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Having experienced the horrific acts done to him and to those he loved back in his teenage years, Jotaro was convinced that you were the only one who could calm his constant nerves and anxieties. You became his most powerful tool against the outside world. You understood his work perfectly, understood his mannerisms perfectly, and respected his need for silence in the office. You knew how to say things the way he would himself, and you had no fear discussing them to other people. The two of you became much closer over the months of your working. Jotaro became much less of an enigma in your eyes. It would be a few months until Jotaro would unwillingly reveal his more “secret” projects. 

The first time you saw the arrow, Jotaro did not want you to see it. But still, what happened that day would forever change your relationship with the young scientist. You had arrived early, hoping to surprise him with a hot breakfast and a smile. You turn the corner to walk into the lab, yet when you go to open the door, you find it locked. Strange. Looking inside the room, you find Jotaro hunched over his desk in focus, in the same clothes as the day before, having not yet unlocked the door. Even more strange. You knocked on the door, only for him to leave the room with another door in a hurry, ignoring your pleas. With a grumble, you dug for your keys, figuring his weird behavior was just fatigue, and that he probably slept over at work again.  When you finally get into the lab, you place your things down, and that's when you see it lingering underneath his desk in a rushed hiding spot. 

Encased within a thickly walled wooden box, an arrow remained, barely hidden from your gaze, as Jotaro had had no time to hide it from you. The latch was undone, another sign that Jotaro had run away from the scene.

Jerk. Didn’t he trust you enough to show you something like this? It’s just a bow and arrow! Why was he hiding it? You called out for him to return to the room and explain what the bow and arrow was for. Hearing no response, you turned back to the wooden box, reaching your hand in to inspect the bow and arrow. 

It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye. 

There were no in-between movements. One moment you had pricked your finger on the razor sharp tip of the arrow, the next moment you were standing up, the box had been tightly locked, and Jotaro stood right in front of you, chest to chest, intensely staring you down. Your breath became ragged as you maintained eye contact with him. What just happened? You didn’t even hear him come in. The box was right before your very eyes, and you didn’t even see that it was locked. How did he even turn you around without you knowing?! A chill went down your spine as you hesitated to speak even a word to the man before you. 

“Do you see what was in there?”

 Jotaro asked you calmly. You felt a cold sweat form on your forehead. Jotaro, ever the impatient man, grabbed your jacket collar, shaking you out of your scared daze. 

“I’m asking you now (y/n)! Did you see what was in there?!” 

“No, I didn’t see anything! I don’t know what just happened! I swear! I saw you run away from the room and went to see what was in there and the next thing I knew you had come back and it was all so fast and I don’t understand and I-... Jotaro… you’re scaring me.” 

Your body convulsed at his rough contact, your hands reaching up to push him away, but his tight grip on your jacket remained steadfast. Pure instinct had compelled you to lie to him about seeing the content of the box, but the terror and confusion you had displayed was genuine. You still didn’t understand how he was able to move that fast, or affect you with you even knowing. Just who was this man?

Jotaro stared down at you for a moment longer, before releasing you from his grip and taking a few steps back. You stumbled back, grabbing the edge of his desk to stabilize your fall. Your heart continued to race in your chest as you heaved, still struggling to make sense of what just happened. 

Jotaro silently called out Star Platinum, having his stand hover right in front of you as you kept staring at him in confusion. Your expression didn’t change once he called out his stand. So you were telling the truth. You really hadn’t seen the arrow. Or at least, hadn’t touched it.

Jotaro sighed, rubbing the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t stopped time in so long, but it seemed he was worried over nothing. “I’m sorry to frighten you, (y/n).” 

You finally straightened yourself out, gulping. “Who the hell are you? Really?!” 

“...I’m Jotaro Kujo. That is all.” 

Another chill ran down up your spine, but you played it off. If he wanted to continue things as per usual, you’d have to do the same. 

“Right… I brought breakfast. And there’s a morning meeting in half an hour so freshen up.” 

You walked past him to retrieve the food you had bought for them. Looking down to pick it up, you noticed a red blood stain on your jacket. It must have been from your bleeding finger when you’d pricked it on the arrow. However, when you turned to look at the finger itself, you found that it was fully healed, not even scarred, even after such a precise and direct cut. Jotaro politely asked you for the food, claiming hunger, and you rushed to take your coat off and hide it away. You got the sense that he’d question further if he saw the fresh blood stain. 

After that fateful morning, things continued on as per usual. You still had your questions, but after a few weeks had passed without another incident, you resolved that whatever that bow and arrow were must have been top secret for the Speedwagon Foundation. You figured no company could be as powerful as they were without keeping a few secrets. And this was one of them. 

So you resolved to ask no questions about that one day. The same way you didn’t put up much of a fight when, in the summer of 1999, after months of you two planning to stay there together, Jotaro told you that he would be going to Morioh alone to research for his PhD, without you. You were furious, enraged how the two of you could become so close since you began working there, yet he still didn’t trust you to go with him. You argued with him the night before he was set to leave, but his resolve never crumbled. You weren’t going to Morioh, that was final. 

In the three months that he was gone, Jotaro regularly sent you his findings, and you sorted them back at Speedwagon Headquarters. When he finally came back, more visibly shaken than he was before, you could only wonder what the coworker you had grown so attached to had experienced in Morioh in the summer of 1999. 

Circling back to the present day, it was the winter of 2000, and there was yet again a dark force afoot in the town of Morioh. Only this time, Jotaro would not go alone. 

“You have to let me come with you this time.” 

“Explain why. Explain why I have to let you come with me this time. I did just fine on my own before.” 

You gritted your teeth at the other’s stubbornness. “Will you please just listen to me? Jotaro when you came back from Morioh, you were even harder to deal with than before! Any sound in the office set you on edge and you screamed when someone set off fireworks near our building! And you still haven’t explained to me what happened there! Now let me come with you! I can help!”

Jotaro turned his attention away from his work, finally looking at you for the first time in that conversation. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become, how much you meant to him. You were his ticket into communicating with the world to his fullest, and after recalling several confusing conversations with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi, Jotaro realized he actually needed you in order to articulate himself to the others without getting too anxious or angry. 

“Alright fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at 2. You better be ready.” 

But nothing could have prepared you for the horrors you were about to encounter in that small town. To your shock and disgust, you learned that aside from his research, Jotaro was investigating a murderer. And then you met Josuke and the others. That was when you first felt that you were going crazy. When you saw glimpses of third arms extend out from these teenagers, saw one of them heal a broken leg with ease, saw another erase space itself. People all over this small town were vanishing in thin air, and the incidents were happening more and more frequently. It didn’t make any sense, but no one was commenting on it, so you felt you were just imagining things. The same way you must have imagined Jotaro moving at lightspeed that morning you pricked your finger on the arrow. 

Finally, we return to the current scene of Jotaro hunched over his desk, his room in the Morioh Grand Hotel littered with documents, the board nearby covered in photos and string, the bedside clock reading 2:33 am.  You approached him carefully in the tense silence, knowing not to startle him whenever he was in deep thought. 

“...Jotaro-”

“Dammit dammit dammit! I’m sick of it! Where the hell is he?!” 

Jotaro slammed his fist down on the desk, his chest heaving in frustration. Why did this keep happening to him?! He just wanted to live a normal life, and he thought after Kira, he could. But like so many times before, Jotaro Kujo was wrong. Perhaps it was his destiny to be unfortunate. Perhaps there would always be another person stabbed by the arrow that would have it out for him and the others. Perhaps he was always destined to have a target on his back. Jotaro turned around to see you there, your form shaken from his sudden outburst. You’d never seen him that angry before. He met your gaze, unaware that you were sensing a vague presence of a being just above the man’s shoulder. 

He sighed, walking over to you. “I’m sorry to scare you (y/n). I’m just getting frustrated by all this.”

You hesitated to speak for a moment, flinching when Jotaro placed his hand on your shoulder. You look up at him with a glare.  “Tell what you haven’t been telling me.” 

“You’ve been with me in Morioh this whole time (y/n). We both know the same things about this case I-”

You shoved Jotaro back, the surprised scientist bumping into his desk. “Don’t play dumb with me Jotaro! There’s something you’re not telling me! Do you think I’m an idiot?! Do you think I can’t handle it?! Tell me why you and a bunch of fucking kids have to be the ones taking down a killer?! Why can’t you just leave it to the police like a normal person?! Just say it! I…  I can help you!” 

But Jotaro couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand his world and the horrifying stands contained within it. He had to keep you safe. The moment you find out anything more will be the moment you die. 

“No… I can’t tell you (y/n).” 

“But that’s not fair I-”

“(y/n), I’m sorry, but if you ask me again, I’ll be forced to send you back home and have you fired from my lab. Try to understand me, I’m doing this for your own safety, but I can’t have you be near me if you don’t cooperate.” 

You stood there in shock. Would he really do that? Didn’t he know how much working for him at the Foundation meant to you? How much care that you put in for him and his work? And he’d throw all that away just to protect some stupid secret!? Who did he think he was?!

Your whole body began to quiver in rage at the other’s behavior. Just when you thought there was something between the two of you, something more than just a young professor and his assistant, he makes it clear that you mean nothing to him, and you never have. You watched the man before you, turn away from your gaze to focus back to his work. With a huff, you reach for the door to leave, your hand touching the handle. 

Then, it all went white. 

Your hand touched the handle, feeling the metal scalding to the touch. Before you could flinch back and yelp at the pain, a hand circled around your neck and another crept around your waist, the grip keeping you flush against another body. You look around the room, watching the color and furniture dissolve from your view until all you could see for miles was a white void. The only thing you could feel was the man with a locked grip on your neck, blocking your airway. You kicked to set yourself free, until you felt a ghostly presence cling onto your legs to hold them together. That same feeling washed over your wrists to bind them as well. The man holding onto you within the void leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

Your whole body shuddered at the deep growl in his throat. “W-who are you?! What do you wan-”

“I’m the one talking (y/n)!”

With that, his hold on your neck tightened ever more. How could he have known your name? You all had made a point to only use names in private in case the murderer was lurking around. So that means… A pang of realization hit you. He’d been hiding in this hotel room, listening to you and Jotaro was however long. Black spots appeared before you in your line of sight, your head was feeling lighter and lighter. You were becoming weightless. 

“In the split second that a human being first feels pain, that is when they are at their most isolated. At the first sign of pain, it’s every man for himself. When a man is shot, in the first moment he feels pain, he isn’t thinking of the man next to him that got shot in the brain. He’s thinking only of himself. The fight or flight response is activated, all other surroundings become useless. That selfishness, that hunger to be healed, that desire for self preservation, is what fuels Foreigner’s God, my stand!” 

Your eyes shot open at the last word. “A...stand?” You choked out.

“My stand, Foreigner's God, extends that initial moment of selfishness that comes with pain. No longer are there distractions that can bring someone back to care for others. No longer are there healers that can take that pain away. Your hand is still burnt from the handle that I heated up, so…”

He turned you both around and you saw through your hazy view, a body appear in the white void. It was Jotaro, the man frantically calling out your name and rushing between his room and yours in a search for you. At one moment, the two of you even seemingly made eye contact, and you saw the absolute fear in his eyes at the realization that he might have just lost you. Your mouth quirked up in a smile, and tears began to form in your eyes. 

Jotaro took a step closer, maintaining your gaze, and you felt relief in your heart that he could really see you. Until suddenly, he rushed to the night stand, fazing right through you and your assailant, not even noticing your presence in the room. You struggled to shout under the choking pressure as you saw him panic, reaching to the phone to call Josuke.

“Wait! Jotaro! I’m right here ah-”

“Didn’t I tell you (y/n)! At that critical moment of pain, it’s every man for himself! It’s just you and me in here! You’re in my world now, sweetheart. I allowed you to see Jotaro’s image, but he cannot see or hear you!” 

The killer turned your head to the side, ready to snap. But he had to wait, for his stand would deactivate the moment you were killed, and then he’d be left vulnerable to a furious Jotaro in that hotel room. He needed information about his opponents’ abilities, and Jotaro was playing right into his hands by calling his friend. 

“That’s it… That’s it Kujo! Call Josuke Higashikata! Call him! CALL HIM!”

You trembled under the rough grip, struggling to call out for Jotaro, hoping he wouldn’t call anyone and reveal any secrets. 

And then amidst the silence, the click of Jotaro hanging up the phone filled your ears. You watched the look of reflection on his face. Somehow, maybe it was because of years of battle with monsters just like this man, but Jotaro Kujo realized that you hadn’t run away. Someone was keeping you from him. And he was now more alert than ever. 

“Shit! He’s smarter than I thought! He must suspect there’s a stand attack going on.” 

The murderer grumbled before dropping you to the ground. He couldn’t kill you, not without proper info on how to defeat Jotaro and the others. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. With a sharp kick to the back, the assailant managed to knock you away, breaking bones in your spine and leaving you immobile. Recalling his stand ability, the murderer managed to escape out a window without a trace, figuring you would lose consciousness. With a gentle thud, you toppled to the ground, right next to the open window. 

“(y/n)!” 

Jotaro rushed to the sound, seeing you lay there, gasping for breath. He turned to the open window seeing no one around. He had disappeared. And right under his nose too. How long had the man been in the room with them?! How dumb could he have been?! Reaching up to Jotaro, you muttered that the man had broken a few bones in your back and that you couldn’t move. 

“I’m sorry Jotaro. I didn’t get a good look at his face…” 

“Don’t worry about that! I’ll get help right away!” 

You looked up with hazy eyes as Jotaro rushed to the phone to call Josuke. After everything between the two of you, after everything he’s said to you, it was surprising to see just how much he truly cared about you. Holding the phone to his ear, Jotaro frantically told Josuke your condition and for him to get over here as soon as possible. Glancing down at your arm, Jotaro’s eyes shot open at the black ink that painted your skin just a few centimeters beneath your wrist. In all caps, as if the murderer was playing with you all, the ink wrote, 

“Foreigner’s God - AS.”  

- - - - - 

“Honestly Mr. Joestar, where does that grandson of yours get off running me and the others ragged like this? He sees one person with the initials A.S. in a phonebook and he sends me out across down to read them with Heaven’s Door.” 

Rohan Kishibe sat drinking his tea, absently working on Pink Dark Boy, waiting for Jotaro’s next move. His companion, Joseph Joestar, took a sip of his drink at Rohan’s rude accusation. 

“Hush now Rohan. We all put Jotaro in charge of his operation, given his connection to our main victim. All he’s doing is using your stand to its full capabilities.” 

The old man raised an eyebrow and Rohan got the hint. Mr. Joestar was the only one of the group that the snarky artist fully respected, so he would follow the seasoned stand user’s lead. 

A heavy set of footsteps entered the room, followed by a more uneven pair lingering behind. The two stand users looked up to see you and Jotaro enter. You were looking better since the attack. Josuke had healed your back of the broken bones, but the bruises and intense pain of walking remained. Moving with crutches, you slowly stepped out from behind Jotaro as the two of you entered the room. Jotaro, his face darkened in a mixture of unhealthy fatigue and intense bloodlust, approached Rohan’s table and slammed down a stack of papers. 

“Names, addresses, ages, and criminal histories. All here. I want you done with it within the next two days.” 

Rohan grumbled, standing up. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Jotaro. Not even a hello, not even an acknowledgment of your grandfather. He’s the only reason I’m letting you push me around like this you-” 

Jotaro took one step closer to Rohan, staring the smaller man down in silence. A chill went down the artist’s spine. Shown plainly in the scientist’s eyes was a haze of dark intent, of evil desires. He wanted this person dead, and for them to suffer. Joseph flicked his gaze up at his grandson, recognizing the expression from the other’s climactic fight with DIO. A tinge of worry filled the old soul. 

They needed to catch him, and catch him soon. 

“Jotaro, come on. We told Josuke and the others we would give them an update soon.” 

At the sound of your voice, raspy still from the attack, Jotaro’s face softened into its usual composure. He turned around to face you, and you gave him a tired smile. 

“Right, let’s go. Rohan. Two days, please. I’m counting on you.” 

Tipping his hat over his eyes, Jotaro held out an arm for you as you both walked to the rendez-vous point to meet with Josuke. 

Rohan still felt lost in the other’s murderous expression. It had been three days since your run in with Foreigner’s God, and Heaven’s Door’s user was one of the first to arrive at the scene in order to search for clues. He remembered reading a page drawn from your unconscious body; you had blacked out soon after Jotaro made the call for help. Josuke was working on your spine, and there was a tense silence about the room. A silence soon interrupted by the crash of wood hitting the floor. Everyone looked up, seeing Jotaro standing deathly still in his spot, meanwhile Star Platinum had escaped and had thrown the table over and smashed it into the floor. The rampaging stand turned to the board and knocked it over with a fierce punch, wood scraps and documents flying everywhere. 

“Hey Jotaro stop it! We need those!” 

Josuke yelled, drawing out Crazy diamond to hold Star back. In his blinded rage, the stand took a mindless swing, punching Crazy Diamond in the jaw and sending both him and Josuke flying into the opposite wall. 

“Josuke!” 

Koichi and Okuyasu rushed to their friend. He wasn’t injured too badly, surprisingly no bones broken; nothing a bandage or two couldn’t fix. The four of them, the three teenagers and the artist all turned to Jotaro in shock, who by this point had absorbed Star Platinum into his being. Turning back to face them all, they all got a look at it. 

The truly furious face of Jotaro Kujo. 

The calm and collected scientist now wore the face of violence, a face he hadn’t worn since Egypt. His eyes shone bright with a horrifying lust for vengeance. Those eyes looked away from the frightened stand users, towards your unconscious body. Without a word, Jotaro left the room, and the others let out a shaky breath in the tense air. Those eyes. It had been three days and those eyes were still ever present. Rohan shook away his discomfort and waved goodbye to Mr. Joestar, understanding now. 

Jotaro was not in this for justice. If Kira had hurt only you those months ago, Jotaro would have worn the same face. You were the key to Jotaro’s psyche and wellbeing. That was a fundamental truth about Jotaro Kujo. It was that day that Rohan Kishibe learned another fundamental truth. 

Sometimes, the universe places an answer in your hands when you need an answer the most. 

Half an hour later, it happened. It was in the middle of a secluded street, inhabited by only three people at that moment. A man. A woman. And the young artist, who had been so enraptured by his goal of locating the first name of his list that he barely had the time to react when it happened. And when it did, it only took an instant. 

The man in front of him quickly drew out a pocket knife from his jacket, driving its blade into the woman’s shoulder, unaware Rohan was behind him seeing the act in its entirety. Before the woman had any time to scream in pain, the pair vanished into thin air before the artist’s very eyes, and into the man’s stand realm. Rohan held his breath, frightened at the pair’s sudden disappearance. A stand user. It must have been. Was this him? Reaching quickly into his bag, Rohan Kishibe phoned his first line of defense.

You had been sitting with Jotaro and all of the Morioh teenagers when Jotaro received his call from Rohan.  

“What is it?” 

“I found someone. It’s either him or another one Jotaro.” 

Jotaro shot up from his chair, eyes blown out in stress. “Are you sure?! How do you know?!” 

Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi all grew the same expression of fighting spirit on their faces and you were sure danger was ahead for you all. 

Rohan tried to remain calm. “I’m not sure… Come over here with the others. We have a better chance of taking down whoever this is together. I’m by Owsen, two streets over…” 

Inside Foreigner’s God’s realm, the man  grabbed on tighter to the struggling woman’s neck as she gasped for air. 

“Please, please don’t kill me! Please don’t k-kill me!” 

But the man was hardly paying attention to her cries. He had brought a vision of Rohan into the void and was watching the artist’s movement’s while still strangling the woman as she writhed in pain. 

He didn’t like what he was hearing. With a grunt, the man turned the woman around to face Rohan’s vision, his hand still tight around her neck. 

She whimpered at the sudden motion, tears streaming down her face, meanwhile he stared boredly at Rohan talking on the phone with Jotaro and the others. 

“Hey bitch, who is that?” 

The woman just kept crying.  “Please don’t kill me!” 

Gritting his teeth, the man smacked her upside the head and tightened his grip around her neck. “Tell me who that is!” 

Her vision hazy, the woman took a good look at the eccentrically dressed man. “I-I think th-that’s Rohan Kishibe. A famous manga artist…”  She sputtered out. 

The man’s eyes widened. Rohan Kishibe. He was at the scene of Kira’s death. Could he be another of them? 

A fit of laughter took over him and he cackled, his jubilation mixing uncomfortably with the woman’s struggle for her life. Continuing to holler, the man dropped the woman to the ground and she remained there, coughing to catch her breath. 

“Oh that’s great! I’ve heard he’s good too! You ever read any of his stuff?!” 

She looked up at him confused, watching his face twist in excitement as he realized that he, a lowly stand user, was about to kill a man that helped take down the mighty Yoshikage Kira. Staring down at the ground, she shuddered at the sound of the maniac’s voice.

“Hey.”

A chill went down the woman’s spine. Suddenly, the man wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned her head to find a way to escape, seeing nothing but white everywhere. Why couldn’t anyone see what he was doing to her?! The man on the street with them, Rohan, why wasn’t he stepping in? It’s like they weren’t the real world at that moment. 

“...I asked you a question.” 

Tears filled her eyes again as she met his bored gaze. “W-what?” 

Drawing closer to her weak form, and kneeling down on the ground, the man before her grabbed a fistful of her hair and she screamed at the sudden jerking pain.

“I’m asking if you’ve ever read any of his stuff!” 

The woman felt a crushing pain in her chest, as if a mysterious force was stepping on her. 

“N-no! I haven’t! But please don’t k-”

“Hmph.” 

In a split second, the stand’s hands came around the woman’s neck and snapped it, and Foreigner’s God’s ability ceased. The man quickly his himself out of sight, seeing Rohan standing alone in the street. 

Rohan turned around at the thud of a body hitting the ground behind him. He looked over to see the dead woman, her eyes blown out and a thick ring of bruises around her neck. Just like what you had gone through. And there it was, the same tag that had been on your body after your attack.

 “Foreigner’s God. - AS. ” 

Bringing his phone shakily to his ear, Rohan muttered, “It’s him Jotaro. He’s just killed someone else. Get over here now!” 

Jotaro felt the same dark intent sweep over him as he heard Rohan speak those words. “Do you see him?” 

“No. He hid himself somehow. He’s nearby I bet. Waiting to get me… Come soon. I’m hanging up.” With that, the artist turned his phone off, staying on guard for any attackers. 

Jotaro hung up the phone call with Rohan and turned to the others to come with him. You stood up as well to head to the scene when you felt Jotaro’s hand roughly shove you down into your seat. 

“No.” He ordered plainly. 

“No?! You expect me to be useless again?! I’m the one he attacked first! I wanna see him go down and I wanna help do it!”

“I’m not having you go over there! You can’t get hurt again!” 

You stared up at him, shocked at the concern plastered all over his face. But still, you were stubborn. That’s one of the things he loved about you. 

“What about you?! What makes you sure you won’t get hurt?! Or even die Jotaro?!” 

“I’d rather that than you die (y/n)! The world needs you more than it will ever need me! And I can’t watch someone I love get hurt right in front of me again!” 

You stood there frozen, your legs feeling like they were about to give out at those word.

“...What?” 

Jotaro felt a hand grip his shoulder, turning to see Josuke motion for him to get going. They needed to catch this guy. And fast. Giving a quick glance to your shaken form, he knew you understood why you needed to stay behind. 

You did, of course, know him and his words better than anyone else on Earth. 

Jotaro began running with the others towards the scene and when he was a few feet away, you heard Koichi ask your beloved lab partner if he had any idea what kind of stand they were dealing with. 

Your mind flooded back to the words that man had spoken to you. A stand. That was the word he kept using. A stand. AS. Those were the initials of the man that nearly strangled you to death. Foreigner’s God. He said that was the name of his stand. A stand. Stand.

Your mind kept repeating that same word over and over again in your head as you stood there in the crowded Morioh street. All of these people. The people you had come to love. Josuke and the others. The strange lives they lived. Jotaro. The strange life he had drawn you into. They were all working to save the thousands of people that lived in this small Japanese town. 

You thought back on all they had said, all that you had overheard over the course of the investigation. Things you didn’t understand now flooded your mind. They spoke about the first trip, the killer. Killer. A man named Kira. Killer Queen. Killer Queen must have been his stand. A stand. Is that why you think you’ve been going crazy? Are those third arms stands? ...Did Jotaro have one? 

“Gimme… gimme… gimme… GIMME!”

Your whole form awoke from your deep train of thought at the sound of someone calling out to you.  You turned around, looking at all the people that were walking nearby. No one was even looking at you. You sighed. You supposed this town really was driving you crazy. You reached for your crutches and took one step forward- 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!”

The loud voice rang violently in your head and you fell to your knees from the shock. Covering your ears, you foolishly tried to block out the sound. Your whole body began to feel weak, your whole being heating up. It felt like your blood was boiling, your muscles were tensing, an unwanted rage consuming every cell in your form. 

“What’s going on?! What’s happening to m-”

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Who are you?! What’s going on?!” You thought to yourself, panicking. What was this voice?!

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” You muttered under your breath as you knelt on the pavement.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” Your voice subconsciously raised, drawing others’ attention. 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“GO AWAY!”  You let a shrill yell, grabbing violently at your hair in terror, causing a crowd of people to form around you. 

And then the voice stopped, a quiet renewing in your head. You sat there, gasping for air, your throat still burning from the attack days before, and your screaming had not helped it. You looked up at everyone staring up at you in shocked worry. In a calm daze, you stood up, grabbing your crutches and began to walk away from the others. 

Jotaro. Jotaro would know what it means. What that voice was. 

- - - - - 

Arata Sone had been Yoshikage Kira’s only friend as long as the killer had been alive. He was the only person in the world that Kira confided in. He remembered the night he met the blond murderer. One evening, the normal man came home from a very late night at work to a silent home, his wife sleeping upstairs. With a heavy sigh, Sone was about to enter his bedroom when he heard his wife let out a sudden shriek, before the sound immediately ceased into a renewed silence. Panicked, the man swung the door open to find another man about his age, standing in the middle of the room, a dismembered hand in his grasp. The hand was dripping blood onto the carpet, and Sone’s wife was nowhere to be found. Putting two and two together, the man felt a chill slither up his whole body. He remained stuck in his spot as he watched the blond man draw closer to him. Then something strange happened. Arata Sone knew that he should be afraid, knew that he should be begging for his life, knew that the proper thing to do was flee. But what he did shocked both himself and the murderer before him. 

Arata Sone laughed harder than he ever had before. 

Cackling loudly to an unsettling degree, he even managed to throw the calm and collected Yoshikage Kira off guard. After several minutes, the laughter died down and the man looked at the other before him with a wide smile on his face.

“Thank you.” 

For the first time in a long time, Kira felt a shudder rush through his body. 

“Thank you?” 

“I was waiting for a good moment to kill her myself.” 

In that moment, both men felt one of the great pleasures of life, a pleasure that can only come from being shunned for one’s desires for so long, and then to finally have that desire recognized by another being. The two men called out their stands and both fell into fits of laughter and joy at their shared murderous trait. A new friendship had been born.

A few years later, Arata Sone saw on the news the gruesome image of his beloved friend’s face crushed beneath an ambulance. Seeing what he could only guess were other stand users at the scene, his ever present lust for murder grew within him to a boiling point. Foreigner’s God’s user made a promise to himself. To kill those who had killed his friend. 

And today was the day to make that happen. The killer watched from his hiding spot as Jotaro and the others ran to the scene to see a very shaken Rohan Kishibe, who was wondering why the killer had yet to show himself. What none of them knew, was that their attacker had grown as a stand user. He was about to apply what his dear friend Kira had once taught him, and was merely hiding to get them all in one place. 

Sone waited for the group to get within his stand’s range.

You slowly made your way on your crutches towards the scene. You needed to know these answers. 

“Just a little farther…” He thought as he waited for Jotaro and the others to be within his grasp. 

“Just a little farther…” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner, two streets away from Owsen. An ominous feeling crept over you, making you feel sick to your stomach. 

Finally, they were all together within his stand’s range. Arata Sone waited for the right moment, a sick smile on his face.

Jotaro went to speak. “Any sign of h-”

And then the attack was sent into motion. In that split second, each of Morioh’s fighters looked down to see a small mass of white matter form around their ankle. With the snap of his fingers, the matter exploded, taking a chunk off each person’s leg with it. Jotaro, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan all collapsed to the ground as the street became consumed in a white void the moment they all felt that same sting of pain.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

They all looked up from writhing in pain as the man they had been hunting down showed himself, the twisted smile on his face more present than before. 

“When a man feels he is at his most cornered, that is often when the most opportunities arise for him. My st-”

In a flash, Jotaro lunged forward, landing a punch to Sone’s face. The smile went away.

“I suppose I’ll take your hand next.” He grunted, grabbing Jotaro’s arm and slamming his whole body to the ground. The moment his hand made contact with the ground, another white mass formed around Jotaro’s finger and exploded, and Star Platinum’s user once again hollered in pain.

“Jotaro!” 

The other Morioh fighters called out to their injured friend and all of them got up to attack their enemy together. The moment they took another step, white matter formed once more around their feet and exploded again. The five of them were squirming on the ground in pain once again. 

“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Jotaro Kujo. My stand feeds on that first moment of selfish pain and extends it, trapping others in a blank void without distraction from their pain. It’s a terrifying ability when used properly, though I will admit, back when I attacked your little friend, I wouldn’t have been able to take you all on at once, and that’s the only reason I spared her life…” 

He looked down to see Jotaro’s face overcome with rage at your mention. It was a fruitless effort, but Jotaro lunged at his enemy again, only to be knocked on his back. The moment his body touched the ground, several bubbles of the same white substance engulfed the scientist’s back and exploded, leaving bleeding indents all over the tall man’s frame and causing him to gasp at the pain. 

“But you see. I have grown as a stand user. You may remember from the tag on your beloved friend’s arm the words Foreigner’s God. Well that my friends, is the name of my stand. Or no… this is something different. A new ability that I’ve learned. A swan song to my dear friend, Yoshikage Kira!” 

Their eyes shot open at the mention of that hardly forgotten name. “Kira?” Josuke muttered. 

“Oh right… an old friend of mine. I figured when I would be taking revenge for his death, I would use some of that explosive power of his that I loved so much. You see everyone, normally I would only be able to keep one person at a time in my realm. You can only hurt some many in one instance after all!” 

It was in that moment, Foreigner’s God revealed itself in its humanoid form right beside its user. Lunging forward, the stand attacked the stationary fighters, knocking them all to the ground. At the very second their bodies touched the ground, the same miniature explosions went off, extending their pain and keeping them in the dangerous realm. 

“Gimme gimme gimme…” 

You placed a hand against your ear trying to block out that annoying voice that was seemingly coming out of nowhere. You weren’t far from the scene, your mind still running wild, asking a thousand questions as to what a stand even was, what that voice just then was, who were the others really dealing with, what was this man capable of. You weren’t sure of what you would be able to do, but something within you drew your body closer and closer to the street where your friends were currently writhing in agony. You didn’t care about what Jotaro wasn’t telling you. You didn’t care that there were still questions that needed answered. You just wanted to help, anyway you could figure out how.

Staring down at their battered and bleeding bodies, Arata Sone let out another burst of jubilation amidst the void. 

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before! If you haven’t already noticed, my once empty void has now been combined with its own type of landmines. You cannot move without a new one setting off, and extending that pain further. You’re going to be stuck in here until you bleed out, with no one to hear you or see you! That is it the secret to my new ability, Arsonist’s Lullaby!” 

With that cry, the stand stormed through the five of them once more, knocking them to the ground once more, causing new land mines to set off, all to the tune of its user’s laugh-filled joy. It was then that white walls of the void were beginning to fade, and the scenery of that Morioh street was starting to fade back into view. 

“Hmm… it appears this ability takes up more of my energy than I thought. I suppose I can’t kill all five of you at once and remain invisible at the same time. No matter, I can’t sense any other stand users around, just the six of us. I don’t care who sees this! I’ll just kill the witnesses after I kill you!” 

It was then that Arata Sone made a fatal mistake, and just like his friend Yoshikage Kira, let his hubris take over. Removing the hiding nature of his stand, but doubling the landmines, the man watched as the five powerful stand users struggled to even get close enough to him to land in a hit. New landmines keep going off, new injuries created. 

They were dangerously close to bleeding out, all in plain sight of another stand user. You. 

You turned the corner to see the carnage ahead of you, finding your whole group in the enemy’s grasp. You couldn’t even tell what you were seeing. The moment one of your friends moved, they would immediately flinch back in agony. Drawing your attention to the man standing over them, a familiar chill went through you. That was the same man that had attacked you days before. And seeing what he was capable of doing to the people you had grown so close to, you were now more scared than ever of him. 

But you noticed something. Amidst the pleasure that this monster was reveling in, there was a distinct look of concentration plastered all over his face. You watched his expression twitch with each time an attack went off on one of your friends. He must be doing something with his mind to attack them. He was focusing. His focus. You needed to capture his focus. 

Steeling yourself for what was to come, you dropped your crutches and took a deep breath in, something in you knowing the dangers you were about to face, and the rest of you stupidly seeming not to care. 

With a small ounce of bravery, you shouted at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! I won’t let you hurt them!” 

Sone turned around at the sudden distraction, surprised that someone was taking notice. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. That could only mean one thing. You were another one. 

Jotaro recognized that voice. No… no no no. Looking up, he saw your frightened body shaking and staring straight into the enemy’s eyes without a way to defend yourself.

“No! (y/n) get out of here! You can’t be here! He’ll kill-” 

The killer turned back around and punched Jotaro straight in the gut with his stand, sending him flying back into a tree. 

“Jotaro!” 

You shrieked. All five of them were dying right in front of you, so close to bleeding out. And now his focus was on you, and it had taken all your courage to simply call out and distract him from the others. You watched as the man drew closer, ready to kill another. The same giant smile came over his face again. 

“(y/n) huh? And here I thought you were a smart person. Smart enough not to beg for me to hurt you again. But sorry, there’s no escape this time!” 

“(y/n) no! Run away! Get out of here!” 

You didn’t have time to register whose voice had called out to you before you saw the attacker lunge right at you. You put your arms up over your face as your body collapsed to its knees, your eyes shut in fear, and a horrified scream uncontrollably left your lungs. 

“Now die!” 

And then, you felt weightless.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 

As you felt a massive weight being lifted from your body, your eyes shot open to find someone new standing over you. Actually, you weren’t sure if it was someone new, or something new. This new thing, it didn’t seem real.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 

Your face lit up in shock. Attached to this new thing was the same voice that you had been hearing in your head before. You watched as its fists fired off in a flurry of punches, all hitting their marks on the man’s body. You were mesmerized by its appearance. Its body, about the same size as yours, looked as if it were made of glass. Swirling around within that glass was a pool of different colors. Different blues, purples, oranges and pinks flowed together seamlessly, all encased within the glass structure as it pummeled the enemy before you. 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME… A MAN!” 

With one last, hard punch to the enemy’s chest, the glass figure stopped its attack and turned around to face you. You shuffled back on the ground, your chest heaving in fear from what had just happened. The figure before you, without speaking a word, drew its arm forward to point at Sone, who was now frozen in his spot before you. Then, everyone watched as small ripples began to form over the man’s whole body. All over his arms, legs, and chest, it looks as if the flesh was moving, as if someone had dropped a pebble into a lake. Then the ripples began to glow brightly, the full spectrum of colors radiating out, and tearing their way from the inside of his body outward. The enemy let out a painful shriek as the searing pain overtook him, more and more light spilling out of his body as the flesh around it became torn and melted. Finally, less than a second later, an explosion of white light burst out of the man’s body. And once that flash was gone, so was he. Foreigner’s God had been defeated. And this thing that you could tell was a part of you, it had been the thing to kill him. 

Shakily, you stood up, holding on tightly to your crutches, keeping your gaze on this figure that had erupted out of you. 

“...ABBA?” 

Still confused, all you knew was that something in your body told you to say that name. The figure turned around to face you and gave you a shy smile before coming closer and embracing your shaking form in a hug. Surprised you could even touch it, you wrapped your arms around ABBA as well, finding to your disbelief that the glass like material felt soft and warm to the touch. You looked down its back, eyeing the pattern of jagged lines all over its body, as well as the swirling colors within. You felt your eyes well up with tears. Something about holding onto this being, one not entirely separate from you, felt so right. It felt like it had been welling up inside you for so long, and you couldn’t help but love it now that it was out. 

“A stand…” You muttered. It was all so clear now. Your stand.

After a few moments, ABBA stood up and nodded towards the group of your injured friends. Holding you up, both you and your stand rushed over to Josuke. The teenager’s eyes opened with a pained groan, looking up at you and seeing ABBA at your side. His face lit up in surprise and he tried to sit up before the crushing pain forced him back down onto the ground. He muttered weakly for you to see if Rohan was alright, and you did. 

Suddenly, a small white figure burst out of the artist’s body and punched Josuke in the arm. You watched, intrigued as a section of the teen’s arm unfolded like a book. The white figure leaned in, writing in Josuke’s arm the words, “I currently do not have any injuries.” 

You watched in awe as the bleeding wounds all over Josuke’s body slowly began to close. Within a few minutes, Josuke was up and mobile as ever. He had several questions to ask you, but first, he had some healing to do. You watched as a pink and blue being, you assumed Josuke’s stand, flew out of his body and hovered over all of the other injured, healing them nearly immediately. They all stood up, groaning from the shadows of pain still left behind from the attacks. One by one, each of them looked up at you, each of their faces growing an expression of surprise and adoration. You felt small under their gazes, looking up at your stand standing next to you. As small as you felt, there was something about ABBA that made you feel powerful. Especially considering what it had just done to defeat the enemy. 

“(y/n)... is that your stand…?” 

You looked over at Koichi before quickly nodding. “Yeah… I guess it must be right?” 

You tried to shrug it off with a nervous laugh, but even you were still in awe of this new ability. Finally, you turned to Jotaro, watching his face for a reaction. The gentle giant stood frozen at a loss of words, unsure of what to say. His gaze turned to ABBA, a melancholy look of admiration and love spread over his features. 

“Come on Jotaro… say something. Don’t worry. I’ll understand-” 

You muttered softly before Jotaro rushed forward and cut you off with a tight hug. You rested your smaller body against him, tears of relief streaming down your face, grateful that everyone was still alive. You looked up to gaze into Jotaro’s blue eyes, seeing that he had begun to tear up as well. Then something caught your eye. Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, you saw a purple skinned spirit faze out of your partner’s body and float over to ABBA, starting deeply into your stand’s face. ABBA, who had before been so calm and collected, now shrunk back a little bit with a childish giggle at the sight of the handsome stand before her. As ABBA held her face in her hands, you felt your cheeks flush bright red. Your eyes widened and you pushed Jotaro away from you, turning to your stand. 

“H-hey wait a minute! ABBA, it’s not like that!”

“Gimme?” 

ABBA asked innocently as she grabbed Star Platinum’s hand tightly in her own. Jotaro now felt his face heat up and turn bright red. With a heavy sigh, he watched as his stand wrapped yours in its arms, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment. 

“Sorry about all this. His name’s Star Platinum, and he’s definitely more… emotional than I am.” 

Your eyes widened at what that could possibly mean. Wait… did they think that you and Jotaro were… 

“W-wait it’s not like that! He and I are just… “

“Gimme?” 

“No! W-well I mean I care about him but I-”

“(y/n).”

You turned around to face Jotaro as he calmly took his hat off, revealing the jet black hair that you loved seeing. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay (y/n).” 

Your heart swelled at his words and you slowly turned around to see ABBA and Star Platinum holding each other lovingly, a warmth erupting throughout your whole body at the sight. The feeling of Jotaro grabbing your hand caught your attention and met his gaze once more. 

“He’s the personification of my thoughts and well… it seems like your stand, ABBA right? It seems like she’s the personification of yours.” 

The two of you watched as your stands talk to one another in their own little language, each enamored by the other’s presence. You turned back to Jotaro, seeing that his face had drawn closer. 

“Yeah… I guess... you’re… right.” 

As you breathed out that last word, Jotaro closed the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting in a sweet, long awaited kiss. You wrapped your arms around the fellow scientist’s, and now fellow stand user’s, neck, giggling slightly as he lifted your body off the ground to hold you tightly in his arms. When you two broke for air, Jotaro quickly kissed you again, holding you up like his life depended on it. 

When he finally set you down, Jotaro Kujo placed a hand to the side of your face and wiped away your tears. With a small laugh, he turned over to your stand.

“Hey ABBA, what took you so long huh?” 

“...Gimme.” ABBA shrugged a little bit and pointed at you. 

You smiled, wiping your tears away. “She said she wouldn’t appear until I was either ready for it, or I really needed her.” 

Jotaro rolled his eyes at your stand. “Well you really waited for the exact moment that she needed you huh-Ow!” 

Jotaro grumbled a bit as Star punched him in the arm, annoyed that his user was making fun of this new pretty stand. ABBA grinned mischievously before looking around at the rest of the group, and seeing all of the other stands. 

A feeling of happiness swelled within the stand’s heart. Ever since you had pricked your finger on the arrow, for so long she had been growing, becoming more and more trapped within you. It had been lonely seeing you struggle without her help. It had been upsetting to see you not yet be ready for her to show herself. But now, eyeing all the others, Heaven’s Door, Echoes, the Hand, Crazy Diamond, and especially Star Platinum, ABBA really didn’t feel alone anymore. And seeing now how the other stand users of Morioh rushed over to hug you and vocalize their shock at you having a stand, ABBA could tell that you didn’t really feel alone anymore either. With a sigh of content, your stand fazed back into your body as you followed the rest of the group away from the scene and back to the hotel to get some much needed rest. 

You leaned against Jotaro’s frame as he wrapped as a strong arm around you. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat everyone! Tonio’s, my treat!” He said with a bright smile. 

Josuke and Okuyasu cheered, “and (y/n) can meet Tonio’s stand!” 

You turned back to the teens in shock as you all walked ahead. “Tonio has a stand?!” 

Koichi gave a firm nod. “Yeah. So does Hazamada.” 

“That weird kid?!” 

“My girlfriend Yukako too.” 

“Damn… I had no idea…” 

You all shared a laugh as you left to enjoy a well deserved victory, the sun setting over the beautiful town of Morioh, another dark force defeated by the town's newest savior.

[rottenprincessshura100]

First chapter of Fanfic.

I’m reposting this in case people haven’t read it. This is the first chapter of the fanfic I’ve been working on for years. It started off as just a conversation in my head. What would Mephisto be like in a job interview? If a person met him for the first time, how strange would it be? He’s cunning, manipulative, and of course obviously a demon. Bits and pieces of me are evident in this chapter, i have a background in contemporary arts as does my OC character. (I started off writing what I know.) I thought back to that time when I finished grad school, was completely broke and couch surfing. What time a job would I have done for basic groceries? Pretty much anything.

Anyway...here it is. Feel free to pick apart the writing style. I’m trying to improve and get better at it. ;)

CHAPTER 1

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Well, I hope today's interview will go well.  

My student loan papers sat on my kitchen table with ominous foreboding. It was time to pay up.

I won't allow this new job to define my life, and it would be good enough, just for now. Plus, I'd get a chance to spend more time in my studio making art. I just had to impress the academy director during today's interview, and I'd be able to afford some decent groceries in two weeks. That's right, Evie, think positive!

So, what should I wear to this silly thing?

It's a private religious school; that means I should dress as professionally as possible.

I have two suits to my name, so I guess I'll wear a black jacket and a red blouse. Or is the red shirt too much? Yeah, I look like a cocktail waitress.

Back to the closet I go.

Okay, how about the wine-coloured blouse and black jacket? Sensible pants and a pair of heels. Fine.

My hair is a bit harder to work with; it's pinkish-brown. I'm an artist, so I tend to be riskier in my appearance. Today though, I have to clean up—no wild eye-makeup. I need to look like an ordinary boring temp worker that can file paperwork. I pull my hair back into a severe bun, like a schoolmarm or a librarian. Yep, now I look like a vodka aunt in a cheap suit. Effective.

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I drove along the busy narrow streets through True Cross Acadamy town. The school was a place for the well-to-do, and I'm almost embarrassed to park my junky car on the grounds.

Much to my mortification, the car backfired, drawing numerous stares from the crowds of uniform-clad students, practically bursting from every building.

Poor-ass artist alert! Here I am!

I slunk down into the seat, hoping the sun's reflection on the windshield washed out the crimson stain quickly spreading across my pale, freckled face.

After speaking with a guard at the main gate (located at the far end of an ancient drawbridge), he instructed me to drive up a long winding road to the highest point. This so-called town was, in reality, a walled city, consisting of tightly layered buildings in an array of architectural styles, all flawlessly intermixed. It was the oddest urban planning I'd ever seen, either designed by a crazy man or an absolute genius. From my own experience, I find the line between the two decidedly thin in most circumstances.

People from the mainland would often joke that True Cross City would never be completed but renovated in an endless loop. The rumours stated that the school's wealthy director never allowed the construction cranes to cease because it was merely bad luck to stay idle.

I continued my drive through the school campus to the mountain's apex—my job interview scheduled at the golden manor house of Sir Johann Faust on the 5th. The director himself would see me in his private office.

I swallowed back a slight wave of apprehension. I hope this guy isn't some sort of pervert. He most assuredly was eccentric. That I could handle.

I pulled up in front of Faust Palace, and just like the rest of the town, it's unusual. As I parked and exited my car, I'm in the shadow of tall golden spires shining like twin suns. The rest of the building reminds me of a cross between an ancient Greek temple, an art deco apartment and a mythical Arabian kingdom. I wiped my sweaty palms on the sides of my black dress pants, my demeanour full of apprehension.

Yeah, I don't belong here. I've got a bad feeling about this.

At that point, I decided to leave. Yet, I watched with foreboding as a pair of security guards materialized from the shadows and closed the elaborate golden gate, trapping me within the compound. Shit!

I made my way over the interlocking marble slabs to the ornately carved wooden front door with a heavy sigh. Before I'm able to raise my hand to knock, it quickly opens. A short older gentleman greeted me with a nod.

"Miss Evelynn Smith?" He inquired.

"Uh...yes. I'm here for the interview?"

"I am Belial, the keeper of the house. Please follow me; Director Faust will meet with you shortly."

The butler escorted me up a seemingly endless hallway. It was odd that an inconsequential temp worker, like myself, was being given the grand tour.

White marble pillars accented the grand structure, with furniture from various periods arranged throughout the abode in mini tableaus. It seemed more like a museum than someone's house. How very strange!

There were many rooms with identical doors; this place was more like a goddamn labyrinth than a manor house! I hope I can find my way out of here after this interview was over!

I tried to get a feel for my potential boss. Being an artist, I, of course, took in the paintings that hung salon-style from every square inch of walls. There seemed to be an abundance of demons and death themes. How morbid.

Stefan Lochner, The Last Judgment, Vincent Van Gogh, Head of a Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette. But wait? Aren't these all part of museum collections? I'm confused. Are they copies?

Just as the creepy dark artworks start to grate on my nerves, I round the corner into the next hallway and find myself engrossed within a pop art nightmare; wall-to-wall pink Takashi Murakami paintings hung in tandem with Jeff Koons, Made in Heaven.

Jesus! Who the hell was this guy? He's adorned his house in pink flowers and porn stars! Surely the students didn't walk into this hall?

As if on cue, the butler regarded me sheepishly. "Pupils are not permitted in Director Faust's residence. He only grants top members of the Vatican access to his private quarters."

I attempted to hold back my laughter. "So, this is a private religious school ran by the Vatican no-less, and we have trashy kink splashed all over the walls. I gotta say, I'm intrigued."

"The master has a dark sense of humour."

"Understatement of the century."

"This is the master's office," The butler ushered me quickly into a large room. "Please, take a seat. He is running a bit late from a previous meeting."

I turned back toward Belial, but he's long gone. I'm all alone in an empty room.

The office is quite different from the hall and decorated in deep mahogany wood, decidedly masculine. The desk is large and ominous; that is, it would have been if it weren't for the strange little collection of toys and knick-knacks carefully arranged next to the computer. I picked up a pink porcelain rabbit in the palm of my hand and raised an amused eyebrow.

"I'd ask that you do not touch the things on my desk."

Crap!

I hastily placed the toy back on the wooden tabletop and jumped to my feet. A tall, impossibly slender man strolled confidently into the room to greet me. He wore a crisp white suit and a long heavy cape. I shook his purple-gloved hand firmly. As I stared up into his face, I furrowed my brows in confusion.

What the actual fuck?

"Please, take a seat, Ms. Evelynn Smith." He bit his lip and snickered. "Or do you prefer...Eve..."

"Uh...Eve's fine." I replied with hesitation as I slowly eased into the yellow and blue jacquard chair.

I should look away, but I can't. Mr. Faust's hair is an impossible shade of violet purple with platinum highlights that shimmer just at the crown, he has pointed ears, and his teeth are small sharp fangs. He's dressed up like he just got back from Comicon.

Also, what's with that curly plume at the top of his head? Is it some sort of fascinator? Is it a feathered hair ornament? I don't get it.

"Okay, Eve, spill it. What's on your mind?" He rested his chin on his gloved hand and smiled knowingly. "Do I have horns growing out of my head or something?"

"It's just....uh...a great costume." I stammered. " Those ears look so real."

He seemed taken aback for a brief second. "Oh, yes! I'm an Otaku. I've had quite a few physical modifications, and it will all make sense in time."

I nodded slowly. What the hell does that even mean?

"Getting back to your resume...Eve." He finally pulled out my paperwork from a nearby folder. "So, you possess a minor in classics, a minor in philosophy and a master's degree in contemporary art. How intriguing."

"Pardon?"

"This job is for an assistant to the Vatican. Your degree is all about a personal quest for knowledge, not exactly chock-full of practical skills." He crossed his long legs and leaned back in his chair. "Your parents must have been completely disappointed, wasting all of that money. An arts degree instead of a doctor? If there was a wizard school, would you have signed up for that?"

"I paid for my education through scholarships."

He smiled smugly and read a few more pages. "So contemporary art, hmmm? Tell me how you make your artwork. What's the methodology behind it?"

"Well...I tend to work under the idea that the world is in a state of flux. Time isn't static, and we live in a non-linear narrative. I open my mind to thoughts of the impossible, the idea that they might indeed be probable under different subjective conditions. I try to allow play, chance, and chaos into the things that I build. Often by allowing more variables into a composition, we can get closer to the truth of our existence and find a deeper meaning."

He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his desktop.

"I will be candid with you, Eve. I saw some of your work in a gallery in Northern Cross a few months ago. I greatly enjoyed it. You have a very open mind, which is the biggest necessity for this particular position."

"I just noticed your art collection." I countered. "It's not every day that one walks into a room of wall to wall vintage Cicconlina."

"You know your porn stars, I see?" He laughed with a merry twinkle.

"I know my art history."

"Oh...." He razzed. "Distinction made!"

"Director Faust, about this job....."

"Please. Call me, Mephisto." He gushed. "Faust is an old legal family name."

"Mephisto? Really?" I stare at him in confusion. "Your last name is Faust, and you call yourself Mephisto? Am I...?" I stammered. "... Am I walking into Dante's Inferno here?"

"You dare mock my name." He challenged. "Yet, your parents named you after Eve. The woman who was the downfall of man."

Who the hell does he think he is; Literally, devil's advocate?

"Eve decided that knowledge was more important than a paradise of ignorance. I firmly believe that a woman needs to know what she's getting herself into, Mephisto."

"I wholeheartedly agree." His large green eyes narrowed. Mephisto's attention now seemed quite dangerous, almost transfixed to my face. "Knowledge is so critical. It's the most important thing to you. Isn't it?"

"I would say so," I answer slowly. "Without knowledge, life is a waste."

"Eve, do you believe in the paranormal?" He changed the subject abruptly.

"I honestly haven't got the answer to that question."

"Oh, I think you do." He pressed. "You can see quite a few unexplainable things. Am I correct?"

How did he know?

It was like he could see right through me. I've seen weird shit my entire life, but you just don't talk about that sort of awkward nonsense. People would think I was crazy. My experiences had been terrifying, and I suffered alone in silence.

"Eve, what if I told you this job would answer all of your deepest questions? Questions that you cannot answer through traditional science and reason."

"I'd say you were full of shit."

"So says the artist!"

"Touche."

"Getting back to the idea of wizard school, I wasn't ribbing you entirely for fun. This academy is a training facility for exorcists. We use very non-traditional methods for ridding the world of darkness. If you choose to take this job, you will need to suspend your current notions of reality for a modified one."

"You mean I will believe in ghosts, goblins and demonic possession?"

"That's a fundamental understanding, yes. This job will explain the workings of the universe to you. Give you access to the vast knowledge that no other humans are privy to. There is one caveat; however, once you sign a very aggressive contract. You cannot tell anyone about the true nature of our work. Not family or friends, the Vatican takes security extremely seriously."

I started to get cold feet; this is a lot to consider. Am I cut out for the responsibility? This entire meeting was getting stranger by the minute.  The job sounded downright ludicrous; the premise piqued my interest, but how could I believe in such nonsense? Plus, the more time I spent with Mephisto, the less human he appeared. Did his pupils just dilate like a cat!?

"You know what's funny?" He stated coyly, his fingers toying with an ornament on his desk. "You voyage into my office and instantly take note of my strange appearance. Most people don't possess the ability to see me for what I truly am. I tell you my legal name is Faust, and my current name is Mephisto. I have artwork depicting demons throughout my lavish abode. Eve, you're intelligent enough to connect all of these dots, and your mind has already solved the puzzle. Yet, your human conditioning tells you to disbelieve the apparent truth sitting directly in front of you."

"The truth?" I stammered.

"I'm a demon, my dear."

I take in his admission with a shocked and irritated face. This guy is a bonafide nutjob.

"I think I've heard just about enough of this Mephisto; this degree of wackiness is far beyond me. I think I'm the wrong person for this position." I stood and prepared to take my leave; only I can't. I'm unable to move a muscle. What the hell is happening? My eyes grow wide with panic.

Mephisto slowly removes his gloves and rests his chin on a black-clawed hand.

"I see. I'll have to prove it to you then. Fair enough, let's give you a little taste, shall we?"

He snapped his fingers, and I'm suddenly surrounded by a hoard of disgusting gremlins, clawing at my ankles with oozing toothy gullets. I saw the same terrifying creatures as a child, invading my daydreams, hiding in the dark shadows when I was alone. I'm so frightened; I can hear the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was my worst nightmare brought back to life, these creatures as real and substantial as the floor under my feet. As the horror of the reality became almost too much to bear, suddenly, he was there. Mephisto expelled the creatures one by one into poofs of purple smoke with a simple flick of a finger. I fall back, no longer able to stand, and he catches me quickly. I'm still shaking from the shock as he carefully sits me back into my chair.

"Those creatures have followed you your entire life. As you have gotten older, you've noticed them less, but they were still slowly feeding off your energy. They are quite volatile." He sat demurely on the edge of his desk, swinging his legs playfully. "They won't bother you now though, I've exorcized them from your presence. You see, this is what we do here. We help humans battle the unsavoury monsters from Gehenna."

I sit dumbfounded, rendered speechless with bewilderment. Mephisto continues with our one-sided conversation, unconcerned like this was completely normal. "...The pay for this position is quite handsome for an artist. It's also part-time, which will allow you to continue to work in your studio. You will report here five days a week, from 9 am-2 pm. You will receive correspondence from the Vatican, and you will keep me informed of all inbound information. You will also book and coordinate exorcists for special ops and daily assignments. My butler Belial will train you appropriately."

"Mephisto...I'm..."

"Terrified and disconcerted?" He grinned. "Happens every time I make a new hire."

"I don't think I can't handle all of this."

"Do you think I pick my employees out of thin air? You wouldn't be here if I didn't find you entirely capable. I've researched you extensively. You long for knowledge, and I will provide all of the deepest desires in your quest. All you simply need to do now is agree." He presented me with a contract.

"I don't know," I whispered nervously. "Can I think it over?"

"I haven't the time." He responded with a hint of a smile. "I am a very busy person, you see.  It's now or never, my dear."

My rational mind screams for me to jump out of that chair and run from the building. Yet, my desires kept me staring in a trance at the contract. Mephisto presented me with an old-fashioned quill pen. I grasped it with my shaking hand and stared at the bottom line.

"Oh...we need some ink to seal the deal. How silly of me to forget something so important." He took out a silver hatpin from a glass decanter and poked the end of his finger. A river of blood ran along his impossibly pale skin and dripped from the end of his glistening black claw. As it flowed freely into a bronze dish on his desk, I stared in dismay. I can't believe what I'm seeing! Mephisto then gently took my hand and poked the end of my finger. A tiny drop of my blood intermixes with his.

"What the fuck," I whispered hoarsely. "No...I'm not signing this. No way!"

"You will sign." His eyes bore into mine, and I'm once again drawn physically to the contract. I dipped the quill as if hypnotized and slowly write my name.

"Excellent!" He seemed pleased with himself. Meanwhile, I'm totally in a daze and fall back into my chair, suffering from strange exhaustion. Did I just sign a contract in blood?

I stood shakily, preparing to leave.

"Eve, I will see you back here tomorrow morning, bright and early." Mephisto rambled on with a sing-song voice. "Here is some research about me. It will teach you the basics of demons and how to work with them."

Belial is now instantly at the office door, he handed me a stack of books, and I find myself escorted from the building.

I jumped into my car and locked the doors. As I put the car into drive, the transmission lurches forward. The books flutter open on the car seat; the top hardcover was a book about Ancient Demon Classification, followed by a copy of Faust and  Dr. Seus, Green Eggs and Ham.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

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Here’s the link to the rest. ;)

https://www.wattpad.com/711456559-the-interview-a-blue-exorcist-fanfic-the-interview

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

today on the “am i the asshole?” reddit:

the body education page that i follow on fb posted this yesterday and i was grossed out. when will men stop trying to police girls/women’s choices and bodies??? can someone please explain to me how a 13yo choosing to use/a mother showing her daughter how to use tampons is sexualising a 13yo???? i’m pretty sure you’re the only one who thinks that, mr AITA.

like i could concede and say that 13 is a bit early for tampons... because, hell, i still don’t use them often, or at all if i can help it; and i’m in my 20s.... but if your daughter is comfortable with them at 13, then good for her. and also. if she’s asking about birth control, maybe she’s having trouble with her period pain??? maybe she’s asking early- a few years early to boot- to know the options of birth control she has when she’s old enough? that’s a smart kid. not a child who is “using it as an excuse to become sexually active.” because i didn’t even ask my doctor about birth control/the pill until i was literally 20!!! and that was because i had shoddy asf sex ed in catholic school, that dodged around the pill ALL THE TIME even in science class- which is the one place where you’d think catholic school could teach sex ed on an okay level- but they didn’t. or maybe she wants it just for acne? that’s another reason i went on birth control: to help get rid of my bad cystic acne caused by my painful periods/fucky hormones. and it did the job.

i didn’t even tell my friends about my period pain until i changed schools at 16/17. or even tell my family until about 19/20. mostly this is all because i didn’t know how to word it. and at the time, i didn’t know if my friends in catholic school from years 7-10 would have believed me- since i did have a fairly iffy attendance record that i’m pretty sure they were sick & tired of covering for me with excuses like “flu” etc nearly every month.

the fact that your daughter is asking about the pill or other BC options at 13 is brave imo, considering that i was too awkward to even talk about it with my own doctor- YES. MY OWN DOCTOR- until i was an adult.... and this is coming from someone who had to skip school nearly every month throughout high school; because her periods were so fucking debilitating and painful that she couldn’t move or was literally physically throwing up most cycles that she didn’t want to go to school for a week to a week and a half- so that she could avoid questions from both her fellow students and her teachers.

the reason i had to ask for birth control in the end at 20 was because i realised that if i ever got a good grad job or an internship in sydney... i couldn’t be found passed out on a fucking office bathroom floor (like i was doing in 2012/2013 at tafe/technical college when i forced myself to go so as to not affect my attendance record to risk failing years 11 & 12) at least 1hr 50mins (instead of 25mins at tafe) from home at the shortest travel to central syd- trying to ease my period pain with the coolness of the tiles- along with staff freaking out like “are you sure you don’t need medical assistance or an ambulance???” or “your periods can’t be that bad. suck it up, get up and get back to work.” like thanks, janet from the social media accounts team. how about you have my fucky ovaries instead and tell me how you like it??? but anyway. me? experience the pure mortification of dealing with that on an internship??? no fucking way. the thought of throwing up on my boss’s/supervisor’s shoes just bc my periods were like “good luck holding down your lunch 😅😁!!!”???? utterly horrifying.

i needed birth control. i absolutely NEEDED to go on the pill (or get an IUD etc etc). and thank god i fucking admitted that to myself and my doctor at that point. because otherwise, i wouldn’t be able to function during my period week- like at all. but with the pill??? it’s gone. all gone. except for the headaches and bad cramps. but they’re few and far between now. as is the throwing up- which happens once every blue moon. but. i can do shit. i can move. i can exercise. i no longer absolutely dread the arrival of my period every month, like i did in my teens. it’s been a great turn around for my mental health/well-being and my social life; as well as and my overall health and well-being.

like, sir, if your daughter has periods like my periods were in high school..... that’s probably why she’s asking about the pill/other birth control. because most of the time, taking multiple advil tablets at once, and sometimes twice a day.... and then laying in bed all day because your period pain and headache etc are that awful that it’s better if you don’t have to fucking move or think all day..... is no fucking way for a teenager to live her life. literally dreading your period every month bc you don’t know just how bad it’ll be, is no fun for a teenage girl, either.

obviously i’m making huge assumptions about this guy’s daughter. but still. the guy is a fucking asshole. plus if you think that your wife is sexualising your daughter by showing her how to use tampons, you’re the one with the fucking creep issue. not your wife.

[blackjack-15]

When the Boys Come Marchin’ Home — Thoughts on: The Creature of Kapu Cave (CRE)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: CRE; mentions of ASH’s mechanics; TMB.

The Intro:

Oh, thank Heaven, onto a game that’s fun to talk about!

Creature of Kapu Cave probably holds the title of ‘Most Maligned Nancy Drew Game’, at least in my mind; suffice it to say that while it has its fans, it’s most certainly not a fan-favorite. I’m not afraid of standing against the grain slightly here – not after my CUR meta, which is way more divisive than this one is gonna be — and saying that CRE is not only one of my favorite games (for mostly subjective reasons) but also just a solid, if not a stand-out, game in the series, far more deserving of praise than the title before or the title after it.

Yeah, next is ICE, and there’s no game more deserving to start out our “Odd Games” section than it. Yeesh. But that mess is still a couple thousand words away, so let’s dive right in.

The last of the Jetsetting Games, CRE cranks it up to full force by depositing Nancy straight into the beaches and jungles of Hawai’i, keeping the indoor locations to a bare minimum and even then limiting them to: a research facility dominated by plants, tents, caves, and a hilarious kitschy tiki shack.

Everywhere Nancy goes, HER is eager to point out that she’s on Hawai’i, and it’s honestly refreshing after being cooped up inside for all of CUR, most of TRN (my love for that game aside), and most of DAN. CLK had a mix of outdoor (mini-golf, tunnels kind of, car rides/chases, the barn) and indoor (the Inn, the Bank, Topham’s house) locations, but CRE blows it out of the water with just how much we see of Hawai'i, and how determined the devs were to keep Nancy — and thus, the player — out in nature.

CRE is a game where Nancy’s pre-professional-detective presence is actually fully justified; as a recent (and bougie) high school grad, she’s working an internship for a Dr. Quigley Kim, an etymologist studying the norsobeta oderata moth on the island and their odd shift in ~mating habits~.

In my good Christian game, no less.

While Quigley is far more interested in the norsobeta oderata moth going hot ‘n’ heavy than in her assistant, Nancy still gets a good education in frass, bugs, and what dealing with ‘professionals’ and academics is actually like. I can even handwave the ‘bugs’ idea rather than the humanities/history that Nancy is normally drawn towards, because Nancy’s the type of person to want to expand her horizons.

The Hardy Boys are, as ever, a bright spot in an already pretty sunny game. The switching between them and Nancy is a fun thing that the games haven’t really done before — at least not with this level of immersion and control — and it really makes CRE stand out as a game.

Finally, a point which should work in CRE’s favor: its detractors often point to the game as feeling rushed without a proper storyline. While I believe this negative statement to be (and hope to prove it so) mostly untrue, there is a persistent rumor that went around at the time of CRE’s release (and is still noted on the Wikia today) that CRE’s production was greatly rushed in favor of working on the new interface that would come with ICE.

While there’s no definite proof of this rumor, it does fit with HER’s general business practices (even before Pinch-A-Penny Milliken became CEO), and should probably be kept in mind while considering the outside forces surrounding CRE.

The Title:

Even detractors of this game have to admit that its title is pretty awesome, especially for this point in the Nancy Drew series (we’re about halfway, for those not keeping track at home, both through the series (#15/33) and through this meta series (#15/30, as this series will skip MED/SEA/MID). While the book it’s incredibly loosely based off of is called Mystery on Maui, The Creature of Kapu Cave is way more evocative as a title; the location still tells us that we’re in Hawai’i, the “Cave” addition tells us we’ll be spending most of our time outside, and “Creature” means a prowling presence stalking Nancy throughout the game.

In other words, it has all the elements to promise a really fun (and, at this point, unique) entry into the series.

While it’s not exactly part of the title, it doesn’t really fit anywhere else, so I’m going to take the time here to mention how wonderful the cover art is. It’s cohesive, well-segmented, and shows off the focal point (the entrance to the cave), the reel-in for the audience (the Hardy Boys) and the lurking danger (the volcano/lava). It works so well in tandem with the title that I feel like it’s worth pointing out here.

Now, onto what the title promises us:

The Mystery:

Nancy arrives bright-eyed and ready to work upon landing on Hawai’i, arriving at a place called “Big Island Mike’s Immersion Excursions” to get the keys to the car that she needs to drive to get to her professor — Dr. Quigley Kim — and to their base camp. The titular Big Island Mike, having other ideas, assigns her to complete a necklace for him in order to get the keys, saying that she’ll see that she’d rather do his Immersion Excursion than work for Quigley at camp.

Which, like, fair point. I’ll take Mike over Quigley any day.

Nancy has barely gotten to the beach (and received a call from Sir-Not-Appearing-In-This-Game and Marginal Boyfriend Ned) when she spots the Hardy boys, looking decidedly worse for the wear than in TRN (why is Frank’s hair so light???? WHAT DID THEY DO TO JOE’S FACE???) and promptly hangs up while Ned is still confused and asking questions.

I see we have another strong entry for Nancy’s “Girlfriend of the Year” nomination.

The three sleuths trade new information and Nancy finds the sea shells that she needs to make the ‘beginner’ necklace and get the keys from a reluctant Mike. Nancy sets off, car-having and confident, over the bridge and into the jungle – but not before hearing about Kāne ‘Ōkala, the ‘rough-skinned’ man, and his recent reappearance that can only spell bad news for the island.

The forces of Mystery – not to mention the tropical weather — seem to be dead-set against Nancy, as a bad storm and an equally bad man-made (or Creature-made, rather) disaster not only prevent Nancy from getting back to the beach and to safety, but also prevent her from meeting Quigley at their Base Camp, which has been ripped to pieces by someone — or something. Nancy has to survive the jungle, find Quigley, figure out what has sent Kāne ‘Ōkala on a rampage across the island — and, the most deadly task of all: sort frass.

Meanwhile, appearing on the very same beach where Nancy “Whirlwind” Drew talked to them are the Hardy Boys, undercover as vacationers at Big Island Mike’s Immersion Excursions to scope out his daughter Pua for their client Richard Aikens, as Pua is potentially being used for an ad campaign and they need to ensure that she doesn’t have any skeletons in the closet.

In other words, they’re vacationing with a side of snooping, all expenses paid. Jerks.

Because the writer is relatively competent, these two plotlines of course intersect, as Nancy finds out dirt behind the Mapus while Frank (and Joe, briefly, before he takes some hardwood to the head) finds the information Nancy needs for the titular cave, when he’s not busy making shell necklaces, trying out shave ice, and threatening random people via phone.

So because this game usually gets a lot of flak for its story, I thought — contrary to what I usually do in this section — I’d lay out the entire plot, point by point, so that it can be judged, rather than discarded based on some nebulous remembrance of its ‘nonsensicalness’.

We begin, pre-game, with disgruntled ex-pineapple grower Mike Mapu opening up his idea for a tourism business focusing on island living while the Hilihili Research Facility, headed by the CEO of Aikens Biotech, Richard Aikens, opens its doors as well. The connection between the two? The land officially granted to the Hilihili, it turns out, would go to the Mapus if the Hilihili were to go out of business.

Mike then hatches a plan; spread the word of a local folktale figure – Kāne ‘Ōkala — that’s returned and is wreaking havoc all over the island because the Hilihili’s research is killing the pineapples. While each little upset and natural storm adds to Mike’s claims, he needs something bigger — proof that the local pineapple crop is actually suffering.

Enter a shipment of fritillated flag beetles. The beetles start munching on the pineapples and their natural predator, the norsobeta oderata moth, noting that its prey is more plentiful and well-fed than ever before, begin eating and mating in unheard of numbers, drawing the attention of Korean-American entomologist and noted quirk Quigley Kim. Quigley quickly notices that there’s a little too much work for her to be able to just observe all day, and puts out an ad for a research assistant — an ad that reaches all the way to River Heights, Illinois, where Nancy jumps on the opportunity and a plane.

At the same time, Richard Aikens hears about a champion surfer who lives not far from his research center in Hawai’i and wants to use her in advertisements – provided there are no skeletons in her closet, of course. In order to find any trouble before it could cost his company money, he turns to ATAC, who send out Frank and Joe Hardy to start digging.

And that’s where the game starts.

Honestly speaking, this is a fine story — not as strong as some games, stronger than other games. The biggest problem I could see someone having with it is that so much happens pre-game — but that’s true of a lot of Nancy Drew games (CAP being the obvious standout).

Faced with the prospect of the Hilihili continuing to survive, Mike keeps spreading rumors and tries to prevent Nancy from reaching Quigley, who’s the one person who could foil his plans, as she’s studying moths who feed on the very bugs who are, themselves, feeding on the local pineapple crop. Meanwhile, Malachi Craven, secretive head researcher at the Hilihili and noted grouch, thinks that Quigley is spying on him (which she is, but we’ll gloss over that) and goes to her camp to confront her, tearing the place up in a fit of rage when she’s not there.

Thus, when Nancy happens on the crime scene and discovers an audio tape of whatever attacked the camp (which is really funny to think about knowing that it was Craven), coupled with the fact that Quigley is missing, the rumors of Kāne ‘Ōkala build even higher than Mike could have anticipated.

From here on, the story is as laid out in the game — Nancy and the Hardy Boys snoop, finding secret tunnels and lava caves, documents that Big Island Mike definitely shouldn’t have, Joe gets whacked into a concussion by a wooden head — the usual mystery stuff. While there are holes to be poked, they’re no more extreme than most other Nancy Drew games, and less extreme than most games that get put in the same pile as CRE.

Now, onto the characters that make up this mystery!

The Suspects:

Starting us off with the sheer force of his personality is Mike Mapu, otherwise known as Big Island Mike. Provider of Big Island Bucks, lover of shave ice, purveyor of varying degrees of fish bait, and our Big Bad for this game, Mike is a larger-than-life figure who controls much of the game, keeping the Hardy Boys busy, trying to delay (or even prevent) Nancy from getting to Quigley, and keeping telltale documents closely guarded — yet in plain sight.

As our suspect, Mike is honestly a decent choice — I would say he and his daughter are the two best out of our cast — and I have no problem with his actions within the game leading up to the climax. While the climax itself could use some work, Mike’s actions and his plot to achieve his goals make sense, track well, and honestly his plan is pretty well thought through. Mike, unlike a lot of suspects, takes 3 people (4 if you count Pua’s help) to take him down, rather than the Lone Nancy, and I honestly think that says a lot about how well he pulled it off.

His daughter, Pua Mapu, is at the center of the Hardy Boys plotline. A champion surfer on the brink of achieving stardom through advertisements, Pua only cares about surfing and getting ready to surf, but helps out with her dad’s business anyway giving surfing lessons, paying excursioners for necklaces, and even gives out fishing tips.

Pua’s our resident non-entity suspect, but has a bit more of a place in the story given her relation to a far more interesting suspect and her being the lynchpin in the Hardy Boys story. She’s the reason that Mike is actually found out; Nancy by herself couldn’t have gotten where she would have needed to go in order to solve the mystery, and the Hilihili probably would have folded before she could have gotten proper documentation, let alone confronted Mike.

As a suspect? Pua would have been an interesting choice, honestly; the bulk of her dad’s decisions would have been shifted onto her, and he would have been her (moderately uneasy) support. Her motive is already present in the game; if her dad inherited land, that means money, and money means she wouldn’t have to waste her time giving out fake money for fish and necklaces and could instead focus on surfing 24/7. A simple motive for a game where so much happens before Nancy and the Hardy Boys get there, but a good motive nonetheless.

In a very real way, Richard Aikens’ absolutely dumb decision to use the daughter of the man who would inherit his land should he fail for his advertisements is what saved his research facility; had the Hardy Boys not been there to snoop around Pua, most of the plot wouldn’t have had the chance to happen.

Specific to Nancy’s storyline is Dr. Quigley Kim, an entomologist who’s far more on the “observation” than the “research” side of academia. Drawn to Hawai’i to observe the norsobeta oderata moth’s unusual mating season, she hires Nancy to…well do to basically everything except the actual observation, has a tendency to ramble, and hates the nasal sound of her voice in recordings (because the recordings render it truthfully).

Quigley is missing for the first bit of the game, and is usually the suspect the player will meet last, so she has a bit less time to be suspicious — not that she’s a prime suspect anyway. A bit kooky, a whole lot annoying, and absolutely wrapped up in her work, the only thing Quigley’s actually guilty of is spying on Craven (and she never gets in trouble for that anyway).

While I appreciate the slight nudge she gets into the Non-Culprits who do Bad Things that Nancy Discovers, Quigley’s probably the weakest member of the club, and thus doesn’t feel subversive enough to be actually interesting.

As a culprit, Quigley would have been an odd, weak choice; as an entomologist, she’d have no reason to destroy the local pineapple crop, as the pineapples are in the food chain that she’s studying. The game never really goes out of its way to make her seem overly suspicious, which I find a point in its favor, as no player was going to believe it anyway.

Rounding us out is Dr. Malachi Craven, a short-tempered plant scientist with horrible plant allergies — irony at its finest. Brilliant, irritable, and egotistical, Craven refuses to work anywhere that’s not at least halfway solar powered, has been thrown out of a conference of his peers for calling them “hopelessly deluded morons”, and is on non-speaking terms with his brother (though he has a soft spot for his niece).

Craven is the obvious suspect in this mystery, as his bad-tempered and secretive nature is what really gives the rumors of the Hilihili tampering with the local pineapple crop its running shoes. Had the lead scientist been anyone even a bit more amicable, Mike’s plan likely would have fallen through — but since Craven keeps so close a watch on the facility and is so harsh to deal with, he unknowingly plays right into the rumors.

As a suspect, he would have been rather pointless; there’s enough “evidence” against him that the authorities would have already gotten involved, found out he was harming the crop — for what reason, who knows — and stopped him before Quigley could even start her moth project. As it is, he works as a competent distraction, as well as a character who’s slightly more sympathetic than I think he’s really intended to be.

The Favorite:

The Hardy Boys, as is the case with nearly every game they’re in, deserve a spot in this section. Ignoring the design choices that were, all in all, definitely for the worse (2006 was an ugly year, kiddos), the Hardy Boys are light, bright, and entertaining. Playing as Joe and getting whacked by a wooden head is great; playing as Frank threatening the man who whacked his brother is great; all their little mannerisms that separate them from Nancy and each other are well done, and the voice acting is top-notch.

And the fact that they bring with them the chance to change the User Interface (UI) and make it a pretty color is fantastic too.

I actually think the swapping mechanism is done better here than in ASH (note that this is one of the only times you’ll hear me say anything negative against ASH), because you’re only swapping between Nancy and a Hardy Boy, not a possibility of four different people. It’s a lot easier to keep track of things when each character is limited to a certain area, though I do love that the different responses that suspects would have to different people in ASH is sort of beta-tested here in Pua’s different responses to Frank and Joe.

I love the location that was chosen for the game; Hawai’i is the spot of not a few Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew mysteries, and it was cool to have a game that works in both the jungle and the beaches, rather than choosing one over the other.

I might be in the minority, but I actually really love Dr. Craven as a character. He’s got a bit more depth than most suspects even at this point, and you can tell he loves his niece despite his relationship with his brother.

My favorite moment in the game is honestly Frank’s gangster moment when he calls up Johnny Kuto, ready to kill him for hurting his brother. It’s a great moment of voice acting, a great brotherly scene, and a whole lot of fun to see Frank (and Joe, but Frank in particular here) having the mettle be an Agent, regardless of his age.

My favorite puzzle probably ties between the shave ice logic puzzle (I’m always here for a logic puzzle, as readers of this meta series already know) and frass sorting. I never really got why other people disliked frass sorting, as it’s an easy and fun puzzle to me. Bring on the frass.

I’m also going to add in here my love for the minigames in this game — specifically making necklaces (fishing is fun too, but I prefer trolling for shells). It’s fun to find the shells, to snorkel to find more (and move the plot along, of course)…I just really enjoy the Immersion Excursion part of this game, and would totally go on one in real life.

In a very stupid way, I like laughing at how horrible Nancy is as a girlfriend in this game; not only does she refer to Ned in the tutorial part as “a really good friend of mine” rather than “my boyfriend” (seriously Nancy what the eff) but she also abruptly hangs up mid-conversation on Ned when she sees two people that she thinks might be the Hardy Boys. It’s almost absurd how bad of a girlfriend she is in this game, and I like laughing at it.

#NedDeservesBetter2KForever.

Lastly, there’s a bit of dialogue that I love in this game – I know, CRE isn’t even a Nik game, so I was shocked too — when Frank’s listing all the things he’s found out for Nancy that will enable her to get into the titular cave.

He finishes his list and then says “oh, and I also saved the whales and brought about world peace”. Nancy responds with a teasingly dejected “Darnit, I was gonna do world peace”, and Frank answers her with an amused “Sorry, you have to do bug stuff”. It’s a fun, funny moment, and it’s nice to hear Nancy/Frank banter, no matter if you ship them or if you prefer them as friends. Shout out to, as always, our good ol’ boy JVS for his great work with Frank this game (and another hooray for the inimitable Rob Jones as Joe).

The Un-Favorite:

My least favorite moment in the game would probably be listening to all of Quigley’s recorded data; they weren’t really trying to make her nasality subtle, and boy does it get unbearable really, really fast. The fact that this is the stand-out worst moment in the game says a lot about how much I personally enjoy this game, and how inoffensive even the ‘bad’ stuff really is.

Well, mostly. See below.

Rather than frass sorting, as seems to be ubiquitous in the fandom, the little stealth section is by far my least favorite puzzle in the game. It’s nerve-wracking, timed, mandatory, and makes you rely on tiny visual cues to win it — in other words, it’s my worst nightmare when it comes to games.

I’ll include the endgame puzzle in here too, though I like it better than the stealth puzzle, just because it’s honestly a bit of a letdown. Nancy and Frank are in lava caves — cool — with currents that lead there – double cool — and the final endgame puzzle is lava mahjong? It’s a poor way to end an otherwise engaging game, even if it doesn’t prevent me (like other puzzles that have been and will be featured in this section) from replaying the game.

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Creature of Kapu Cave?

First things first, I’d change Joe’s entire design for this game. I don’t know why they chose “caveman Jesse McCartney” as their guiding star, but it was an unbelievably poor choice. Sure, Frank’s hair is a bit light, but considering they keep him dark brown for the rest of the games rather than the black hair he had in TRN, I’d be fine with just tinting it a bit darker and focusing on the Enormous Wrong done to Joe Hardy.

The other thing I’d fix is the endgame puzzle. While that style is done well other places in the series (TMB being the obvious example of the tile-style endgame), it really doesn’t fit CRE, and it makes the ending feel like an anti-climax. Even a trip through another set of currents would have been better, though honestly even a final confrontation just through speaking to Mike would have been better.

Other than that, I don’t think I’d change anything else. Sure, there are puzzles and moments I’m not too fond of, but I don’t think that the game suffers from having them in it. Honestly speaking, as long as the player pays attention to the story and tries to put it together rather than just waiting for the final scene, The Creature of Kapu Cave isn’t an impenetrable mystery nor a poorly written game; it’s just a mystery with a beautiful location, fun games, and entertaining puzzles to soup it up.

Oh, and the Hardy Boys, of course.

[stealinghero]

So I may not get to see my best friend in the world cuz there's a fucking pandemic going around and they live far far away and it seems to become more and more of a possibility that they will just outright forbid people from my country to go there and I am close to crying, so I would like to ask for scenarios with Lupin and Zenigata and an SO in a Long distance relationship to ease the pain. (Ernsthaft? Ich fühle mich als ob mein gesamtes Jahr hin ist und es hat Grad erst angefangen)

Ich hatte den Spaß mal 7 Jahre lang in einer Beziehung. Und das war nichtmal weit weg (Deutschland-Schweiz). Aber es was trotzdem mies wenn es dann mal nicht klappte mit dem Treffen. Ich drücke dir die Daumen, dass es irgendwie klappt. Und wenn, dann wenigstens nach der dämlichen Sperre! Fühl dich gedrückt von mir!!

Long distance relationships or friendships are always hard. And if something happens and you’re not able to meet up... that’s not nice. All there is are calls but that’s not the same.

But I hope Lupin and Zenigata will give you a bit of hope, because in the end friendship will be stronger than any stupid border or a closed airport.

Lupin:

It had been a day too long and too stressful to even lift a finger now. All he wanted to do is come home, let himself fall on the bed and just sleep for the next 4 days or so. Sleep sounded so good right now.

A quick glance at his watch let him stop in his tracks. It wasn’t too late, right? Wait, where was he right now? Damn, was it plus or minus the hours? He had to use his fingers for this simple math and came to a satisfying result. He still had time!

His steps suddenly became more springy, a giddiness had taken over him. He still had enough time to call you!

Just the aspect of hearing your voice gave him new energy he didn’t know he had before. Parting from his friends, he got into his room as quick as possible, already reaching for his cell phone to dial your number. He was a lucky man coming home just in time to call you between work and sleep!

There was a dial tone… come on, pick up!

5 seconds…

10 seconds….

15 seconds….

“Yes?”

His heart stopped beating as soon as he heard your voice. You didn’t seem to have looked at the display before answering, your voice was tired. Or had he disturbed your sleep?! Had he added the hours time difference when he had to subtract them?!

“Arsène?”

“Did I wake you up?” he just had to ask you, already a bad consciousness in the back of his head.

“No. I just came home and I had a shitty day,” you answered, letting him hum.

“Me too. So I just had to call you.”

“Zenigata again?”

You knew what he was doing for a living and still you had chosen to be in a relationship with him. Even if right now you were a few thousand kilometres away from each other. Your voice alone was enough to let his heart race or stop at your will.

“Yeah, and I think Jigen has sprained his ankle.”

You laughed. “He’s getting old.”

He nodded, smiling broad enough to hurt after a time. But he just couldn’t stop. He loves to hear your voice.

“I wish you were here,” you admitted in a small voice. He could hear the sadness and tiredness and just the general feeling of “I hate being away from you.”. And he couldn’t even just hug you and be there.

“Me too.” He blamed the tiredness for the tears in his eyes, knowing that you were ready to cry anytime he called you, missing him. His heart was ripped apart in his chest.

“I read about you in the news today. There was a photo of you. You’ve grown thinner.”

That was so typical of you! Always worrying about him. Sending him texts to remind him to eat something. Or to drink enough. He loved that part of you and knew you were a bit anxious about messaging him too much.

“I know. That’s because you stopped sending texts. I simply forget to eat when planning a heist.”

“Did Goemon and Jigen say nothing?”

“You know them.”

You laughed and his heart skipped a beat, hearing this beautiful sound.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked finally.

“4 more weeks. From here we will go to Singapore, preparations and stuff. And after that Boston. From there I will be coming home.”

“Oh.” He could hear every single emotion in this one word.

“I already have some souvenirs for you,” he said, trying to cheer you up.

“You’ll have to tell me when you are coming. I will try to bake that cake you liked so much.”

He remembered the fluffy cake he had eaten with you and you giving everything to get the recipe from the pastry chef. You had succeeded and promised to make it someday.

“You still there?”

He flinched and grinned a bit. The tiredness took its toll.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“You should get some rest. We can talk tomorrow.”

You were always so considerate. Another thing he loved about you.

“I will call you,” he promised. Everyday he called you when he had the time.

“I know. Get some rest.”

“I love you.”

He could hear you laugh your happy laughter, getting butterflies in his stomach.

“I love you, too.”

After the call had ended, he pressed the phone to his chest, allowing himself to dream about you.

A message tone brought him back into reality.

Remember to eat something before you go to sleep! XOXO

Hugs and kisses. You sent him hugs and kisses!!

Like a teenager in love, he almost levitated above the floor on his way to the kitchen to follow your orders.

  Zenigata:

He cursed. The dirty truth. It was loud, it was unpleasant and Yata had to cover his ears for the most part.

With a mighty huff he ended his tirade and slumped back down on his seat. Were they kidding him?! He was Inspector at Interpol!! There had to be a stupid plane in this damned country to take him home!

“Sir, please calm down. You are scaring the other passengers,” Yata tried his best. But not now. He was not in the mood to accept anything.

“Scaring?! Maybe I should get scary! Maybe then a fucking plane will appear and bring us home!!”

He was done. Completely.

After having Lupin in handcuffs and him disappearing from his holding cell, Zenigata’s day was bad enough. But when he and Yata had come to the airport only to find all the flights have been cancelled because of some stupid virus, he just had blown.

Estimated time until he could leave this country? Unknown.

There were workers in overalls in the airport, talking to stranded passengers, taking temperatures, making notes on every single human being of this airport.

“Sir, I know…”

“Yata, just shut up.”

He sat down on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs and crossed his arms. They hadn’t made any exception for them. Not even a helicopter was allowed to start. And after a short call he had learned that he could also give up on taking a boat.

A call! He still hadn’t called you.

“Hello?”

He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaving his assistant speechless facing the sudden mood swing.

“It’s me.”

You stifled a yawn, making him take a look on the clock at the airport.

“Aaah, sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up,” he apologized, realizing the late hour at your place.

“It’s okay. What happened?”

“I can’t come home.”

“You can’t?”

“The airport is closed and every other possibility to leave the country, too.”

You moaned in frustration.

“I had bought your favourite meat.”

His stomach rumbled and he sent Yata with a gesture, to buy something to eat.

“When will you be able to leave there?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell us anything and even ICPO can’t do anything to get me out of here,” he explained his situation. He had tried not to get frustrated at this situation again, but he failed and let out a curse, this time more hushed.

You laughed at the other end.

“I’ll wait for your return. They can’t hold you there forever, right?”

He had to smile at your optimism.

“I will take the next chance to get out of here!” he promised.

“I know. I miss you, Koichi.”

“You still have a few hours to sleep, right?”

“Hmm.”

“Just put me on speaker and close your eyes.”

He waited until he heard rustling of the blankets and you telling him that you were ready to sleep. He wanted to be at least able to do this.

“Are you still tired or should I tell you something of my boring day?”

You laughed. “Tell me something.”

The next hour he just told you everything he had done, the things he saw at the airport and even when you were not responding anymore, he told you everything he had on his mind.

“Sir, she’s asleep.”

“I know.” He pulled the hat a bit deeper in his face.

“You should hang up.”

“I can’t.” Tears welled in his eyes and he had to hold back a sob. He hated this. All the time he was away, working, and you were alone at home, waiting for him.

Carefully, Yata pried the cell phone out of his superior’s fingers and hung up the call, patting his colleague on the back.

“It must be hard,” he imagined aloud.

A nod was his only response.

“We will get out of here, Sir. I promise.”

Sometimes it was good to have a friend around in those times, Zenigata thought and let himself cry on the shoulder of his subordinate, begging any power out there to bring him back to you as fast as they could.

[lyssala]

Day 9  – Plot of Your Favorite Movie

Pairings: Terra & Aqua, Kingdom Hearts

Setting: Modern AU where Terra and Aqua are coworkers who do not get along, but unbeknownst to them, they are actually wonderful friends

Rating: K+

Words: 15377

Notes: Another fic I have wanted to do for ages! Its based off of You've Got Mail and the musical She Loves Me (both of which are based on the same source material). I've always loved the setup for these works and have always wanted to try my hand at doing an au with a similar setup. Also! Its a Christmas fic so Happy Holidays my friends!! (also in case you know/listen to the music, Vanilla Ice Cream was my signature audition song and it has such a special place in my heart, which is why the title is not Christmas related at all LOL)

As always a HUGE thanks to @mimiplaysgames who helped me edit this fic while she was on vacation. She really helped me cultivate the right tone for this fic (because its another sorta rival feelings one) and I can just NEVER thank her enough. She's amazing and SHE JUST UPDATED A FIC YESTERDAY so you all should go read it immediately <3

AO3

He Came to Offer Me Vanilla Ice Cream

Inspired By: Three Letters, Vanilla Ice Cream, She Loves Me (She Loves Me, 2016 Revival Cast)

Dear OftheShire,

I’m so sorry to hear you have to work so much over the holidays. I understand the feelings all too well, unfortunately. My saving grace is that I at least don’t get sick of listening to Christmas music! Customers, yes, absolutely, but hearing All I Want for Christmas for the tenth time on one shift keeps me going strong. I even sing along to the horror of my coworkers. I do love the holidays, and the high consumerism the holiday has turned into can’t take that away from me.

The weather, the music, the smells, the feeling of it just reminds me of being a little girl, hanging up my stocking and double checking the cookies I left out for Santa. I would be so ecstatic when there would be chunks missing in the cookies in the morning that I’d completely miss the crumbs in my dad’s beard! Did you believe in Santa too? (Also totally sorry to be the bearer of bad news if you still believed in Santa D: ) Some people find it cruel to let their kids believe only to then tell them it was a lie, but I have so many fond memories of trying to look for Santa on Christmas Eve and my mom playing along that she saw reindeer in the distance that I never found it cruel. If I ever have children, I think I’d like to share that with them too.

My parents live back in my home state, which, believe it or not, gets even colder than where I live now! I grew up really far north, which is wonderful in every other seasons but winter. Even growing up there can’t get me used to the cold and the snow. They’re actually coming to visit me for the first time since I started Grad school out here for Christmas! I can’t wait to see them. Are you close with your family?

Congratulations on being able to graduate next semester yourself! I still have a ways to go but the fact you’re already almost done gives me hope I can survive myself. What did you say you studied again? It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to recall. That’s probably because I haven’t had my coffee yet, believe me that’s my first stop before class :P

I probably should get on that or I’m going to be late, another long day means multiple cups of coffee (and maybe a few cinnamon rolls).

--

The store was thankfully busy. Not so much for Terra who had to pay much more at attention than usual, but for the store itself. Sure they were the only bookstore in the mall, which helped significantly but at the same time they were independently owned and needed the revenue to keep the doors open.

He looked down the aisle he was standing nearby quickly and had to dodge a few younger kids running to the back of the store where the children’s books were.  One of their hands reached out to pull at one of the books but his friend shoved him to keep moving, making the book launch towards the floor. Terra reached out to grab it, placing it carefully back where it was supposed to go. Granted, judging by the complete disarray of every other shelf it really didn’t matter.

The moment he cleaned this aisle, it was a disaster again. He’d have to leave it for the afternoon when they’d be a little slower; the thought alone made him roll his eyes. That would thrill the afternoon shift lead he was sure.

Terra pulled his phone from his apron pocket, glancing at the clock. She’d be here in about an hour, but that also meant he got to leave soon which was more than enough to get him through the rest of his shift. He knew he should put his phone back in his pocket as he was on the floor; even if he was the lead he didn’t like to do things he didn’t let the kids do. Still he couldn’t resist peeking at his email.

Nothing.

He quickly opened the app just to see if he didn’t get a notification but there were no new messages there either.

“Terra!” a voice crackled so loudly in his hear he almost both dropped his phone and ripped the headpiece from his ear. “Terra, can you hear me?”

He reached up to grab the button hanging on the wire of his headset. “Yes, Sora, for the thousandth time, I can always hear you when you speak at a normal volume.”

“Sorry,” Sora’s voice was sheepish but Terra could practically see the smile on the younger boy’s lips. “I have a return. I got everything set up but I need your approval.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Excuse me, sir?” another voice said nearby but judging by the fact she wasn’t shouting his name it wasn’t one of his employees. “I was looking for something to get my grandson, but I’m unsure what to look for.”

When did this aisle get so full of people? Was the whole store full up again? Had an hour and a half gone by yet?

Terra leaned back hoping to catch the nearest employee he could see who wasn’t on register. Silver hair and blue eyes looked back at him, putting some books back. Terra gestured for him to come over.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have Riku help you find everything you need as I have to assist at the front, is that okay?”

The woman looked a little disgruntled at first but seemed to lighten up when Riku actually stepped into the aisle. “Yes, that’ll be fine. Come with me, young man.”

“I’m sorry,” Terra mouthed when Riku gave a wince but Terra had to keep moving to go finish out the return for Sora before he started yelling in Terra’s ear again. He probably wouldn’t even let Sora use it if he wasn’t always on registers; he was personable and quick, easy to strike a conversation and get the job done.

“Terra,” Sora said again, though this time in an exaggerated whisper. “They’re getting mad.”

Of course they were, everyone was so much more impatient as soon as the Christmas trees go up. He honestly felt that way sometimes too, but the words from his friend’s last message rang in his head. She sounded like she loved Christmas so much, and everything that went into it. For some reason it made him smile at her childlike glow even though all he knew was her typed words and nothing more. She just oozed passion in every message he got from her.

He tried not to think about it too much but it was hard not to; especially when he looked forward to what she was going to say to him next; what he would say to her helped him through these longs days. Terra knew he didn’t quite have a connection with every single person he met, so he was astounded to find that easy communication with her, even though they really never met. No name, no personal identification information, no pictures, just their messages back and forth. Still, it was something special to him.

Terra moved to step behind the register Sora was standing behind; he looked visibly relieved.

“Sorry, about that, Ma’am,” Terra said with a smile, as he leaned in to punch in his code that would let the return go through. He trusted Sora enough to do it right so there was no need to look over it. “You’re good to finish.”

“Thanks,” Sora said, moving back to go about the rest of the transaction as quick as his fingers would allow.

Terra moved to grab some of the books on the back counter that were probably other returns or go backs but really he just wanted to look over the store. There was a small line but with Sora on one and Xion on the other they’d handle registers just fine. Terra glanced around the store, scanning over the other employees scattered around working; if only to make sure everyone was actually working.

There was one missing, and usually it was hard to miss such red hair anywhere. Figures Lea was late. Terra would give Lea a little longer before he called. For the time being he went to place the books back and help on the floor. He had been working here since high school, he knew how to handle both the product and the people, even if he didn’t always characterize himself as a people person. He could still smile and help; though he usually found a lot of people went to the kids to ask for help instead. He apparently looked too intimidating to work at a bookstore.

In the very least, the busy days meant time went by faster. It also made him forget to keep looking at his phone to see if it went off at all. In fact before he knew it, he was turning to stand face to face with the afternoon lead.

“Jesus,” he grunted, taking a step back from her. “Do you have to sneak up on me?”

Aqua was shorter than him, but she was plenty loud; if she wanted to announce her presence she would’ve. Currently, she looked very disinterested in the fact she had to talk to him. Even still, her blue eyes were bright under the store lighting a small smile in the corner of her lips. He knew it absolutely didn’t have to do with him, and probably everything to do with that Christmas spirit she loved so much.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault you were off in your own head like always.”

He decided to ignore that, however, it was hard to ignore that Aqua was the only one who could look pretty under terrible mall lighting. He placed another book on the shelf in front of him. Terra may not get along with her but it wasn’t like he was blind. He knew the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled and how the shade of her eyes was so unique it was almost like the color of the ocean…not that he would admit that to her or anyone for that matter.

“Did you leave a list of what was done today and what still has to be done?”

“Always do,” he grunted, grabbing another book off the ground to put back.

She clicked her tongue, looking around the area. “This place looks like a mess.”

“Oh, did Scrooge happen to forget it’s only a few weeks before Christmas?”

“Cute, Terra, but you’re the one who hasn’t worn a single Christmas color to work, not me.”

He glanced over to her and sure enough she was wearing not only a red dress but green leggings and even a Santa hat over her blue hair. “Remember what I wear every day, do you?”

“Only your lack of any holiday spirit what so ever.” She reached over to push in a book on the bookshelf near his hand, because, clearly, only she could clean the store correctly.

A twinge of annoyance went down his spine. “Maybe if I didn’t have to listen to you nag at me every day I’d feel more festive.”

“I only nag you because if I didn’t, you’d day dream through the whole shift.”

Well, sort of fair; Terra knew he had a tendency to zone out at times but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Thankfully, Lea chose that moment to scurry in behind the register, nudging Riku out of the way so he could log in and sneak in the back room. To Lea’s credit he almost had it, and Terra probably would’ve let it slide just because Lea was usually pretty creative when it came to excuses as to being late.

“Nice of you to join us, Lea,” Aqua said without turning her head to him as he snuck behind a bookshelf. “An hour late.”

“Yeah, you know, about that-”

“Go get ready for the shift, don’t worry I have a job for you.”

Lea grumbled something but slouched away probably to the back room.

“See you guys!” Sora waved as he headed out with Roxas and Xion both zipping up their jackets.

“See you,” Terra said, raising a hand to wave.

“See you tomorrow, Aqua,” Xion said, turning to wave goodbye herself.

“It’ll be fun,” Aqua smiled back at the kids who were hurrying to the front.

Terra must’ve scoffed too loud because she was looking back over at him. “Does that mean I’m done? Can I go home now?”

Kairi was already logging in on the register with Olette tying her apron around her back. It was still a little busy but they should be okay. Not that Terra was going to offer to stay to work with Aqua; she was such a control freak it was impossible to work with her.

“As long as you left me the list,” she said, walking away from him.

“I hope it’s up to your impeccable standards.”

Aqua wasn’t looking at him at all, not even a glance; she just continued to where the girls were probably going for the list he really did leave for her and to divvy up the jobs for the night.

“Yikes, dude.”

Terra nearly jumped at the sound of the voice right behind him. He turned his head to see way too familiar blond hair and blue eyes, and a toothy grin that told Terra not to trust whatever the next words were going to be.

“You’re really terrible at flirting.”

“Ventus,” Terra sighed, placing the last book in his arms on the correct shelf. “That was not even remotely what was going on. Not even a little bit.”

“Yeah, cause you got that mystery girl right?”

“I don’t…I don’t have anyone, okay.” Though Terra was tempted to pull out his phone to check to see if he had any new messages from the very person Ven was implying but that would only prove his little brother correct, and Terra didn’t need that right now. He did hope she had said something back though. “She’s just a nice person I talk to. Aqua on the other hand, I think we’d murder each other if we had to be in the same space for too long.”

“Whatever,” Ven snorted. “Are you done? I’m starving.”  

Terra glanced back up to the counter; Riku was ringing out someone as Lea was rushing up, hastily tying his apron. Aqua went over the plan with the girls but Terra couldn’t hear a thing. It would probably be strict down to the letter of what they’d have to do knowing Aqua. Ah well, it wasn’t his shift anymore anyways. “Yeah, let me get my things.”

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

I cannot believe there is a person on this planet that actually doesn’t get sick of that song. I’m pretty sure I’ve been sick of it for at least an eternity now. I guess that’s a testament to you though, patient through and through. I appreciate the holidays as well though I wish I didn’t have to work mostly through them all and I’m sorry to hear so do you. Granted I would like to see you singing along to the songs as you worked, I hope there’s dancing too, possibly a hair brush microphone? I’d assume go all out when it comes to Mariah Carey.

I’m so greatly offended that you could ever say that Santa Claus is not real. How could you think that me, a twenty-six year old male, would ever believe anything but that a man went to every house in the world one night on flying reindeer? To answer your question, yes, I did as a kid, so did my younger brother. Before you ask, no I didn’t tell him until he was old enough. He was an innocent kid, very naïve, very trusting, it actually sort of made me want to believe again just by having him believe it so much. I say that because he’s a pain in my ass now. It was fun though, I used to make cookies with him, leave out the milk, write Santa on some gift tags. Now he just makes cookies for himself. Sorry, Santa.

If that didn’t answer your question, I am close to my family though it’s just my brother, me and my dad. We all still live in the same place we grew up in so no drastic change like you had. I even go to grad school in the same town, I’m fairly boring honestly. I’ve traveled quite a lot for vacations since my dad and brother love to travel but otherwise we just stay put in our little town where it snows in the winter but I don’t think it’s too cold. That’s exciting you’ll get to visit with your parents soon! I honestly don’t think I could live that far away from mine, so you have all my respect that you just up and left to go study where you wanted to.

Oh, hey, thanks! It’s still a little surreal honestly. I never thought I’d ever see the end of school, especially at Midwestern where I go. I not only live in the town, but I went to undergrad there too. I’ve seen its buildings enough for my taste. Oh, it’s no worries, I have the joyful career of becoming an English teacher, aren’t you thrilled for me? I thankfully have experience working with high schoolers and they sometimes find me intimidating so I’m hoping that will carry over when I tell them they have to read The Scarlet Letter.

Okay, knowing you, there’s probably enough sugar in any given cup of coffee. I have no idea how you could stand cinnamon rolls on top of that too, but I guess I’m not surprised either. You could rival my brother’s love for sugar. Please don’t end up in a sugar coma before you even get to class :P

--

Aqua hummed as she hung up her jacket in the employee room. It was some mash up of Jingle Bells and Santa Claus is Coming to Town but she couldn’t help it. Christmas was so close now, her family would be visiting and everything just oozed with holiday cheer; especially the bells she clipped into her hair for today’s outfit. Even though she was stuck at work all night she felt warm and light, like nothing could quite get under her skin; she sure hoped it stayed the case considering the closer to Christmas, the ruder customers got. Oh well, she’d meet it with a smile, it was the only way to get through the day.

She tied her apron behind her back, slipping her phone in the front pocket (though not without checking her messages first, though so far it was as empty as it was when she left for work). It was okay, he worked a lot too and always was in school; he was probably as busy as she was. The fact he even made time for a few messages was still enough to keep her good mood up.

Aqua kept humming, glancing up at the written schedule on the board to see who she was working with tonight. Everyone had different strengths so she liked to place jobs with people who would excel at them, and it would make their time go by a little faster when they weren’t forced to do something they hated. It was pretty typical; Kairi, Lea, the twins, Xion, Riku, and….no, wait, that had to be a mistake. She reached up to trace the dates, bringing her finger down to make sure she was reading it right.

The door opened making her turn her head, but the person shuffling into the room only confirmed she was reading the schedule correctly. “Terra?”

“In the flesh,” he snorted, but his back was to her as he was shrugging off his jacket; his way-too-light jacket for this weather, what was wrong with that man?

“Is this a mistake?”

“Wish it was,” he said, reaching for his apron to drop over his head. “I’d much rather be home.”

Aqua pressed her lips together, looking back at the schedule. Well, it was only two weeks till Christmas, she supposed she could understand why they may want to schedule two leads but at the same time, did it have to be him?

She didn’t hate Terra. He was a nice guy, quiet and he was very patient with customers and the kids who worked here; in fact she was pretty sure he had more patience in one fraction of his body than she possessed all together. At the same time though, he was so laid back he let things slide far too much which drove her crazy. She could deal with it when it was just in passing, when he told her what was done all morning so she knew what to fix all night, but working a whole shift together?

She looked up at the future days she was scheduled and had to bite back a groan. For everyday she was scheduled until Christmas they were working together? Okay, she was coming in tomorrow morning to talk to someone about this or she’d likely not make it till Christmas.

“Okay,” she said, turning around to face Terra. He wasn’t looking at her, but down at his phone, scrolling through something. “I assume neither of us care for this arraignment?”

“Fair assessment,” he said, still not looking up.

“Then let’s split up the store. I’ll handle the front half and you handle the back half. Registers will be neutral.”

“What is this?” Terra did look up that time, arching an eyebrow at her. “A war meeting?”

“It’s retail in Christmas, of course it’s a war meeting.”

Much to her surprise he actually smiled at her. Well, he also rolled his eyes and shook his head but still. Terra dropped his phone in his apron pocket, before grabbing a headset to put in is ear, clipping the radio into his back pocket as he walked back over to the door. “Fine, should I lay down a boundary line to make sure no one crosses it?”

“Of course, I’ll give you money to buy the duct tape.”

“I have a brother, believe me, I know how to handle boundary lines.” Terra went to push the door open but it swung open on itself.

“No one can say anything,” Lea said as he walked in, pointing to the both of them. “I’m on time today.”

“Christmas miracles,” Terra said, reaching out to push at Lea’s head before Terra caught the door open, leaving without another word.

“Good, because if you were late one more time I was going to put you on register the whole night just because I know how much you love it,” Aqua said, watching as Lea shrugged out of his long jacket.

“Wait,” he arched an eyebrow as he looked back at her. “Are you and Terra both working tonight?”

“Ah, yeah, seems like the boss wants more hands at night.”

Lea got this grin on his lips, devilish almost, not that the flaming red hair helped. “Oh, this is going to be a grand night.”

Aqua decided not to ask what he meant by that and moved to grab a headset and radio before leaving the room to head to the floor; there at least she could assign the other workers their jobs. She hoped everything went quickly and smoothly. She really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Terra all night.

Thankfully, he seemed to feel the same.

For the most part it was easy to help customers at the front of the store, keeping an eye on the registers, straightening and restocking when she could. The customer volume was absolutely going up every day so she could understand why there were two leads on the floor but that didn’t mean she was completely happy about it. Though to his credit Terra stayed to the back of the store and helped any customers she sent that way. She knew he’d prefer to be back there as opposed to the front where she got the brunt of the social force.

“Permission to step across the boundary, your highness?”

She looked up from straightening some self-help books to see Terra with both his hands up in defense. “Depends, what’s your business?”

“I would very much like to leave the store to get dinner.”

Was it that time already? Aqua glanced over to the registers where Sora and Xion were busy ringing out. Roxas was probably still in the kid’s section fixing the display she asked him to adjust, Riku was upfront helping someone with the new releases, and while Aqua couldn’t see Lea or Kairi they were probably wandering around somewhere.

“I’ll even throw the incentive to check the back of the store to make sure my standards are as high as yours.” He was watching her but his hands were in the front of his apron, probably fiddling with his phone or something.

“Why do you think we’re so busy?” she asked, pushing another book back into place. “High standards.”

“Oh, yeah, nothing to do with the fact we’re the only book store in the nearest 50 mile radius,” he snorted.

Okay, fair point; not that she was going to tell him that. “Yes, you can go, just tell me when you’re finished so I can take mine too.”

“Oh, she takes breaks does she?”

“Don’t be such an ass,” she said, but admittedly was choking back a small laugh. Aqua would just toss that up to the fact she was still in plenty of a good mood. “Just go.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” Terra gave a vague sort of wave as he walked towards the front of the store until he was completely out of sight.

“Do you even think they know?” Lea’s voice said from nearby, but Aqua didn’t pay too much attention to it, she just went back to fixing the shelves she was working on.

“Oh, God, no,” Kairi giggled. “They would never flirt with each other as much as they do if they knew they were doing it.”

Aqua did turn to look that time, which was the only reason she knew they were talking about her; considering both Lea and Kairi were peering around the end of the bookshelves in that row watching her with near matching shit-eating grins on their lips. Aqua had to ignore the heat that rose to her face that the insane implication she would ever flirt with Terra, or vice versa for that matter. That was absurd. You didn’t flirt with people you could barely be in the same room with.

“No way,” she said pointing towards them. “How many times have I told you both, you aren’t allowed to work near each other. All you do is talk and gossip. Lea, go make sure kids haven’t bombarded Roxas in the children’s section, then go make sure everyone has been helped. Kairi, please start on the other end of this row with me.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Lea said, vanishing behind the shelves.

Kairi was still giggling but she started straightening the books like she was asked. Aqua wanted to ask the younger girl how they got it in their heads that either Terra or herself would ever consider flirting with each other, but at the same time she didn’t want to open that door. Ever.

Aqua’s phone buzzed and her heart leapt up to her throat. She really knew she couldn’t look, and she shouldn’t look, it set a bad example; she wasn’t always as disciplined as she looked though. She pushed her apron pocket open, peeking down at the bright screen with her heart pounding in her chest. It promptly sunk into her stomach when she saw it was just an email telling her about some sale.

“Message from the mystery man?”

Aqua’s head snapped up to see Kairi still looking at the books as she worked on, making them look neat again. It wasn’t a terrible surprise as Kairi tended to work afternoon shifts with Aqua, and she may have mentioned she was talking to someone a few times. “Ah, no, not this time.”

“Do you know his name yet?”

“No, but that’s okay,” Aqua said, taking a small breath before going back to her job.

“Aren’t you worried he’s like sixty years old or something? Or like a murderer?”

“I’m not saying everyone you meet on the internet is good,” Aqua said. “But when you talk to someone enough, you just sort of…know them. I don’t know, I may not know his name or what he looks like but he’s sweet.” She paused. “And he said he was twenty-six so he’s only a little bit older than me.”

“Do you feel like you know him already then?” Kairi asked. She wasn’t teasing this time, genuinely curious.

“Sort of,” Aqua said, a smile pulling at her lips at just the thought of their conversations. “He’s very kind, and articulate. He’s said once or twice people find him intimidating but to me he just seems so gentle, you know? Especially when he talks about his little brother. I know what he likes to do for fun, favorite foods, movies, what he wants to do for a living, and ah…”

“What?”

Aqua paused for a moment, feeling a small bundle of nerves in her stomach again. He mentioned it so briefly in his last message and she had been torn over what to do about it ever since…if she even wanted to do something about it. “He sorta mentioned where he went to college.”

“Was it bad? Oh wait, was it good? Like Ivy League good?”

“No, well, I mean good but…it’s where I go to school.”

Kairi nearly dropped the book she was holding. “Wait, you guys go to the same school and don’t even know it?”

Aqua nodded; it had been about her same reaction when she read that one sentence. He probably didn’t even mean to say since up till then, they never gave away and facts that led onto where they lived.

“You could know him in real life and not even know it.”

“I think I’d know it,” she rolled her eyes. Aqua may not know him at sight, but she was pretty sure from having a conversation with him that she’d be able to tell how he talked, how he presented himself. She still paused, looking over to Kairi. “Should I ask him to meet? Like on campus or something? Would that be too much?”

“I mean, I don’t think it would be too much,” Kairi shrugged. “People meet online all the time these days. It just depends on how comfortable you feel about it or if you like the mystery more than the man.”

Aqua knew the answer to that question. She’d love to meet him, to sit across the table from him over some warm coffee, to see if how she pictured his voice was really how it was, to hear his laugh, see his smile. The thoughts alone made her stomach flip anxiously. What if he wasn’t anything like how she pictured? Would it make a difference?

“I think I would…” Aqua started. “Meet him that is.”

“Then ask him,” Kairi said, standing up on her toes to get a book on the top shelf. “Worst he could say is no and then you’re no worse off than you are now.”

That was a good point. Aqua squatted down towards the floor to fix a few books. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to ask. Maybe he’d like it too. Maybe he wouldn’t but then they could still talk just like they have been. She thought about meeting him so many times before now, ever since she sent that first message a few months ago.

She liked him, more than she cared to admit to anyone but herself. It was silly maybe, but he always brought a smile to her face, that had to be worth something. It had to be worth a risk.

--

Dear OftheShire,

Of course there’s dancing, geez, boy, do you even know me?? Not a hairbrush, no, but absolutely any candy cane shaped object I can find. It’s been described as both a wonder and a hot mess so I take that with very high regard. If you ever wander into where I work I’ll be sure to show you, and probably embarrass you and myself so much you’ll never want to be seen in public with me lmao

That’s right! I forgot you mentioned your little brother before. Well, you sound like a great big brother to play along with the façade, even just for his sake. I don’t have any siblings myself so I never got to share the joy of having to share my room or bathroom with anyone. He seems very sweet, even if you insist he’s a pain in your ass (ps I can totally tell you love him, don’t play so cool :P ) Plus he sounds like he likes sweets as much as me so I can get behind that!

It’s so sweet you’re so close to your family too! So much that you don’t consider leaving them, that tells me a lot about you and how much they must love you too :D Okay, wait, how have we been talking so much and you never told me you traveled! I haven’t gotten to do so very much but I’ve always wanted to. Are we talking like “oh, hey, I just get around the country every so often” or “I’m a damn world traveler and have eaten things you’d never dreamed of and can speak five languages on command”? I mean both are cool, but I need to know which one it is.

Savor it, my friend! Especially as a teacher, cause, hate to break it to you but technically you’re going to be in school for a very long time. High school too? Wow, you’re a brave man! See, you keep saying people find you intimidating, but, like, to me you seem so mellow and gentle? Is it something about you physically? Are you like a seven foot football player or wrestler or something? Also, excuse you, don’t judge my sugar intake, I’m perfectly capable of not dying from sugar intake, :P (More reasons why I love your brother already too)

Hey, so, weird thing. I sort of go to Midwestern too. Small world right! I can’t believe we’ve been talking for so long and we could be in the same class. How weird is that? I was wondering if maybe you wanted to meet for coffee on campus or something? At that little café in the library? Like this Thursday? Please don’t feel like you have to! But I thought it might be nice to actually see each other in person since we happened to actually live in the same town. I can like wear bells in my hair and have a copy of The Hobbit since I know that was your favorite book as a kid so you know it’s me. Just let me know!

--

“I don’t know why I had to come with you,” Ven said as he walked down the sidewalk next to Terra. That statement, of course, was accompanied by Ven’s big grin, meaning he was highly amused that his older brother asked him to come with him to a possible, maybe, sort of, kind of date.

Was it? Terra had no idea, but he’d never claim to be good at picking up on things like that. All he knew was he stared at her message for a lot longer than he should’ve, even stunned that someone as nice as her would actually want to see him in person. It was easy to agree then, to feel excited to finally meet the person behind the words but now that he was walking towards the campus library, the bright lights from the building looming over him, all he felt like was throwing up.

“Even if she was a murderer I’m pretty sure you could take her,” Ven continued.

“I don’t think she’s a murderer,” Terra snorted, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Or even a threat.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ter, but you aren’t always the best judge of character.”

That was…fair. “Can’t you be good, quiet moral support?”

Ven clicked his tongue looking up to the building. “If you wanted quiet support you probably should’ve brought like Riku from your work or something. I’m your brother, I’m legally entitled to give you a hard time.”

“I don’t think that’s true. If me and dad both die then you’re legally entitled to my things I guess.”

Ven whistled. “Books, books, and more books I’m so thrilled.”

Terra reached out to shove at Ven’s head, making the younger boy laugh. It was why Terra bought Ven in the first place; if anyone could make Terra not get wrapped up too much in his own thoughts, it was Ven.

“There it is,” he said, pointing to a particularly well illuminated section of the library. It was easy to see through the large windows where students were in line to get a late night caffeine fix or snacks; it was fairly late, he had to wait till he was off work to even come since Aqua already requested the night off and someone had to be there.

“Don’t look so nervous.” Ven nudged Terra’s shoulder. “She already likes you enough to talk to you all the time, this is just without a screen in between. No big deal.” Ven reached for the door handle, but Terra pulled Ven away from it.

“God, what?” he asked, arching an eyebrow up.

Terra knew he was acting sort of childish but he couldn’t help but feel the nerves in his stomach reaching up through his chest. “What if she isn’t even there?”

Ven paused for a second before grabbing a hold of Terra’s arm, dragging him over to one of the side windows. Ven leaned up close to the glass leaving Terra out of view so that way Ven would be the one seen if anyone looked over. “Okay, what did she say she was wearing again?”

He was a good brother. “Ah, she said she’d have bells in her hair, and a book, The Hobbit.”

“You guys are such nerds,” Ven snorted. “Alright, alright, let me…see…” He let out a low whistle that made Terra look up.

“Wait, what? Is that good or bad?”

“I dunno, man, she doesn’t really look your type but she does look like mine, maybe I should go in instead of you.”

It took Terra a moment with his heart nearly in his throat to realize Ven was teasing. “You’re a shit, will you tell me the truth?”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Ven laughed, looking back into the café. “Alright so, bells in the hair is kind of common around Christmas, but the book would be an easier…way…to tell, ummm…Oh!”

“What? Do you see her?” Terra asked, nearly going up behind Ven to see too.

Ven was quiet for a second, and he wasn’t teasing anymore which didn’t bode well. “Ah, well, she’s your type for sure, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

Terra had no idea what that was supposed to mean. He quickly slipped in next to Ven who nodded over to a table off to the side of the café. Terra saw the book first, fingers tapping on the cover, anxiously, impatiently maybe. Maybe he should’ve known before he even looked at her face, the familiar shade of blue hair, eyes he already knew glancing over at the door when it opened. Hell, he even knew the bells she was wearing in her hair.

He quickly turned around, leaning his back against the window instead. This couldn’t be…it was a joke right? The girl, the kind, funny, compassionate girl he had been talking to for months it…couldn’t be Aqua, could it?

It had to be. He didn’t tell anyone but Ven, who may tease Terra sure but would never do anything cruel to him. Maybe the girl had said something to someone else? Like she was nervous to meet him too so she said something to a friend who offered to wait for her, that friend unknowingly being Aqua.

Terra turned his head to look back in the room to see if anything could confirm that theory. It didn’t though, not when he saw the hope flicker in her eyes every time someone walked in, anytime someone got too close to her table for it to fade away, her fingers still tapping anxiously at book cover.

It was her; there was no one else it could be. How could it be her? The girl he talked to was nothing like the Aqua he was forced to work with.

“Terra,” Ven said, like he was very much doubting that Terra was going to move. “You have to go in there, you know that right?”

“I can’t,” he groaned, leaning his head back against the glass. “If she knows it’s me she’ll just be mad and she’ll never talk to me again.”

“So you’re going to leave a person, that I know you’ve been trying to hide how much you like, just waiting for you cause you found out you really do know them?”

“That’s the problem. I do know her and now I feel like I know two completely different people sharing the same body.”

Ven arched an eyebrow. “Do you though?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you know her? Maybe the girl online is really how she is and you never gave her the chance to be that way around you.”

Terra didn’t like that Ven was making sense. He was barely graduated from high school; it shouldn’t be possible for him to make assumptions like that. “It doesn’t change the fact that if she sees me, she’s going to make me leave. I can guarantee you I’m not the person she wants to see.”

“So what, you’re just going to stand her up? I’m sure she was looking forward to this as much as you were and she’ll leave here wondering why her friend didn’t want to meet her.”

Ven was laying on the guilt there but it was working. Terra didn’t always get along with Aqua but he didn’t hate her, and he really didn’t hate the girl he talked to on the internet; he wouldn’t want either of them to feel stood up.

“Okay,” Terra said, reaching a hand up to run through his hair. “Okay, I’ll go. But you’re getting an ‘I told you so’ if she kicks me out without letting me explain.”

Ven didn’t say anything else, he just gestured to the door. Terra did what he said and opened the door to the café, stepping inside. He tried not to look at her, knowing she was still watching everyone who walked in. He thought he felt Ven slip in behind but Terra lost track of his brother when he did make eye contact with Aqua.

She looked a little confused, like she was surprised he was there. Did she even know they went to the same school? Probably not; it wasn’t like they talked much, especially if it wasn’t work related. He walked over to the table she was sitting at, though he still had no idea what he was going to do let alone say.

“Hey,” he said, which was at least a start.

“Ah, hey,” Aqua said, still a confused look on her face. “I didn’t know you went to school here.”

That answered that question. “Hm, yeah, I do. What’re you doing here so late?”

Her face flushed slightly, she was embarrassed; it wasn’t a look he was used to on her. “Oh, I was just waiting for someone.”

“This late at night?”

“He had to work.”

“He, huh,” Terra said, pulling out the empty chair from the table. “On a date then?”

She flushed again and he did feel bad. He never saw Aqua be embarrassed in as long as he knew her. She always rolled with the punches, and stood her ground; which he did admire about her if he was being honest. “Who said it was your business?”

Terra shrugged, trying to ignore the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach as he sat down. It was a strange mix of still being in shock that Aqua was his mystery girl and the fluttering feeling fact that she wasn’t denying it could’ve been a date.  It was so conflicting and made him sort of want to throw up. “It’s not, I was only asking.”

The door opened behind him and Aqua’s head immediately snapped over to look. She watched the guy walk in but looked away when he made no motion to walk over to her.

“Blind date?” he asked, propping his elbow up on the table. He knew he should tell her, it was cruel to pretend it wasn’t him, but at the same time he couldn’t actually get the words to form in his head let alone come out.

Aqua glanced back to him, like she was surprised he was still there. “I guess you could say that.”

“Friend of a friend?”

“No,” she said, looking down to the book still on the table. “Ah, I met him online.”

Terra whistled. “You keep looking for him, I’m guessing he’s late?”

She hesitated. “It’s an unusual hour, he could be running behind.”

“And didn’t even tell you? Not the best first impression.”

She arched an eyebrow. “He’s actually a very nice person. I think if he’s running late he has a good reason to be.”

Terra felt a slight bit of exhilaration that she was standing up for him, that she thought he was a good person who wouldn’t stand anyone up. Based only on their conversations she actually wanted to see him, she looked forward to it. It only made him feel sicker that she was so wrong without even knowing it. “Sure hope so, better than chickening out.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” That exasperated tone he knew well, but now he couldn’t stop seeing the softer look in her eyes, her tone in the way she excitedly told him about her days, about how much she loved Christmas.

It would’ve been easy to say, “Yeah, right here” or anything to tell her that he was the one she was waiting for but she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but near him. Despite expecting this was how it was going to be, it hurt. Not just because this was the girl he looked forward to getting messages from, the girl who got him through the long days, that made the holidays seem a little brighter this year, but because something in the way he behaved towards her made her feel like she had to be harsh with him.

Maybe if he had been kinder at work, maybe if he listened instead of writing her off as a control freak, if he understood how she operated, if he was more patient, he would’ve seen the girl behind the screen while he was at work. Maybe he would’ve seen her eyes light up when it was him who walked through the room and maybe he would’ve liked it, loved it even.  

But it wasn’t what happened and now he couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t ever tell her. Terra wasn’t sure he could bear seeing that disappointment in her eyes. It would be easier for her to feel stood up than for him to crush her dreams that her mystery guy was none other than the person she hated.

“Yeah, I do,” Terra said, pushing himself up to his feet.

She was watching him but he couldn’t quite read her.

He leaned forward to tap the cover of the book. “Good choice,” he said. “I always liked it too.”

If she moved to say anything to him, he didn’t see it. He turned around to head back to the door, Ven scrambling off a stool to follow behind. He at least didn’t say anything as they walked in silence to Terra’s car. The disappointment only sunk in harder the farther he got away from the café. It wasn’t even that it was Aqua, that it was always Aqua - it was only in himself.

He didn’t even care to tell Ven ‘I told you so’ at any point.

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

Of course there is, how silly of me to assume otherwise. I appreciate your level of shamelessness in the least but it would take more than that to drive me off I think. Little brother, remember? I can take a lot of embarrassment. Speaking of, he’s alright. He just graduated high school and will be starting college in the spring much to my dreaded realization that time has gone by way too fast for me. Jokes aside he’s a great kid. Smart and generous, also sarcastic and snarky and sometimes I want to kill him but usually I love him. I think he very well could rival your love for sweets. You two would be peas in a pod honestly.

I mean, I can’t speak five languages in the least. Bits and pieces maybe, but not fluently. I have been around this country quite a bit but also places around the world. My dad traveled a lot before me and my brother so he took use when we were old enough. It’s always been fun, and yes, I have eaten things you’ve probably never dreamed of. It’s actually why my brother is starting college late, we had a trip planned for his graduation that interfered with some deadlines.

I can assure you I’m not a football player or a wrestler, I’m actually not really a sports person. I played in high school cause they made me but I never cared much for it. I’m not seven feet tall either, though maybe a little taller than average; maybe that freaks people out, I don’t know. I like to think I’m pretty mellow. You know, I’m not entirely sure you are capable of that. I’d be afraid to ever let you two in the same room, I may come back to find the place littered with all the sweets you two could find.

Wait, seriously? How did we never know we went to the same school? Let alone live in the same vicinity. You can say small world again. But, yeah, I mean, I’d totally be cool with that! I checked the work schedule and Thursday was already requested off so I can’t take it, but I can meet you after work if that’s okay? I’d actually really like it a lot. I’ll look for the bells and the book!

--

Aqua wasn’t sure if it was the cold weather and busy work schedule mixed with finals last week that knocked her out but all she knew was she tried to get up for work and there was just no way. She never called off but she didn’t have a choice. There was no way to open when she couldn’t even move from her bed; she felt like she got hit by a tuck the way her whole body ached, her nose wouldn’t stop running, she could barely eat anything in her apartment. It was probably for the best, all it would be was a day of sulking when she was supposed to be working. At least home she could pull the blankets over her head and pretend there wasn’t a terrible ache in her heart.

He never came.

She waited for hours, and then more time in hopes he’d walk in and recognize her sitting there. He never did. Aqua kept her phone out in case he messaged her that something came up but nothing, not a word. She didn’t know how to feel; if she should be heartbroken that the person she wanted to meet so badly didn’t feel the same. She worried that something happened to him, or nervous she did something to keep him away.

It only just resulted in her crying alone in her bed most the night, then to wake up with a pounding headache and feeling even more terrible. Aqua hadn’t known it was possible. She felt so stupid sitting there, and even more stupid going home alone, and just so sad. He was also so kind, so interested in what she had to say, so engaging she couldn’t understand what happened. He even sounded like he really wanted to meet her. Was it a lie to make her feel better and he never intended to come? That didn’t sound like him; he was always so open and honest. Still, she figured maybe you can’t always know someone just from the internet.

She reached her hand around the comforter covering her, trying to reach for the tissue box. Her nose was raw from blowing it so much but what else could she do but sit here and feel bad for herself? Tifa offered to come over and talk but Aqua just didn’t feel like talking to anyone. She cracked an eye open to look at her phone but no messages.

Clearly the one person she wanted to talk to didn’t want to talk to her.

She was maybe being melodramatic, she barely knew this person outside from long conversations reaching on for weeks but then again, wasn’t that enough to be able to know someone? Aqua groaned as she pulled the blankets over her head. She didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to go to sleep and pretend none of this happened. She should’ve never suggested going to meet him.

Except there was a part of her that still wanted to meet him.

Aqua slowly pulled the blanket down to her chest when she thought she heard something. She tried to listen to the quiet apartment, but there was nothing. No, wait…maybe there was something? Maybe she was delusional too? Someone was knocking on her door? Were they or was she imagining it?

Her phone buzzed and against her better judgment she nearly dove for it. The message waiting for her wasn’t anything like what she expected though.

Terra Hale (Work)

               Aqua, your neighbors are starting to look at me strangely. Can you open the door?

She blinked at the screen, trying to make sure she was reading that right. Yeah, they had each other’s numbers because they had to but he never texted her anything that wasn’t work related and even that was few and far between.

               Wait, are you here? Like at my door?

It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, she didn’t even think Terra knew where she lived let alone ever been here before. Granted, he did use her name so it probably wasn’t a wrong number text.

Terra Hale (Work)

No, I’m asking you to open your door because I’m across town at someone else’s door. Yes, I’m standing here. It won’t take long, I know you’re sick.

Aqua knew she wasn’t feeling well but now she felt like she was in some weird alternative dimension. Was she dreaming? She had to be. Still she found herself kicking her legs over the side of her bed to stand up on shaky legs. Should she let him in? She probably looked like a terrible mess; red faced, red nosed, red eyed, not showered, bed head, the same PJ’s on from last night. Yep, he was probably going to tease her and never let her live this down.

She grabbed a thinner blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, hopefully covering some of disheveled state. Aqua didn’t like people seeing her less than at her best, let alone someone who didn’t even seem to like her at her best. She shuffled through her small living room and kitchen to the door. It was still chained shut, so she opened it only as far as the chain went.

Sure enough there was Terra standing there. He was still in his work uniform, typical thin jacket on. He had some sort of bag in his hands but his eyes were glancing down at her before looking up to the chain lock.

“I promise I’m not trying to rob you.”

Aqua hesitated. “Are you here because I called off and made you work?”

His face was almost unreadable but he didn’t look mad, or even annoyed. “No, I’m here because Leon said you called off and you’ve never done that in the time I’ve known you so I figured it was serious.” Terra held up the white plastic bag slightly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She wasn’t sure how much she believed him since he never seemed to care about her wellbeing before but Aqua also didn’t want to leave the poor guy just standing there when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. She reached up to unhook the chain, pulling the door open.

He stepped in, closing the door behind him while Aqua quickly retreated to the kitchen which was closer than the living room.

“Do you, ah, want any…” She paused to reach her arm to her face, sneezing far louder than she wanted to. “Coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” he said, though she was surprised to see a small smile on his lips. “You should go back to bed.”

“I’m fine,” she said, but her nose betrayed her, sounding gross and stuffy. Great, this was just wonderful.

Terra placed the bag on her counter, undoing the knot on the top. “I brought you some soup,” he said, pulling out a large Tupperware contained that looked full to the brim with some sort of chicken soup. “It just needs to be heated up. It’s my dad’s recipe, real good I promise. He used to make it for me and my brother when we were sick too.”

Aqua couldn’t help but eye him as he placed the container in the fridge for her. “Oh, wow, well thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was nothing,” he shrugged, reaching back for the bag. “I also brought some tea leaves, another special blend my dad always gave us. Do you have a teapot or anything?”

“Ah…” Aqua fiddled with the edge of her blanket. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she let Terra inside but this was absolutely not it. “Yeah, on the stove.”

He turned to grab it, filling it up with some water from the sink. While she wasn’t used to Terra being so…accommodating to her, she knew if she asked him to leave he would but she couldn’t find those words. She was more curious as to why he was being so accommodating; especially after how rude she was to him last night. Guilt swirled in the pit of her stomach, making her feel worse than she already did. She tried to tell herself he deserved it, that he was always abrasive at work so what else was she supposed to do? But at the same time, here he was pulling a mug off her drying rack to put near the tea he brought.

He turned the stove on, the clicks filling the otherwise quiet kitchen. “Go on back to bed, I’ll bring you some when it’s done and get out of your hair.”

She bit down on her lip, watching him as he popped open the container of tea leaves. She never really had tea without a tea bag before; she didn’t even know Terra liked tea. Come to think of it, she didn’t know very much about him in the first place. “I’m fine,” she said again, though she promptly sneezed again.

He looked up from pouring the tea leaves into the mug, a sort of knowing smile on his lips.

“I, um…” Aqua was really unsure what to even say. They never had a conversation without bickering before. “I’ll take your shift tomorrow.” She had to pause to sniffle even if it was incredibly embarrassing. “To make up for making you work today.”

“No need,” he said. “You keep your day off, you may need another day to rest and feel better.”

“No, no, it’s only fai-” Another sneeze. “Fair.”

“You’re clearly exhausted and overworked,” he said, sealing the cap back on the tea. “You need the rest and you need to go back to bed.”

“Really, I’m fi…” she paused when she saw him coming towards her. “Fine, I’m fine.”

He hummed like he really didn’t believe her which he clearly didn’t because the next thing he had picked her up over his shoulder.

“Terra!” she gasped, instinctively reaching down to grab him and keep her balance but she was more amazed at how effortlessly he carried her. She should be furious at him for touching her when she didn’t need to be but instead all she felt was a sort of warmth from his body, it was comforting in a weird way. That someone came out all the way just to take care of her.

It was sweet, even though she never thought to describe Terra that way.

He gently placed her down on her bed moving out of the way as she could only stare up at him in surprise. “I’m sorry if I intruded,” he said holding his hands up slightly. “But if I knew anything about you it was that you probably wouldn’t ask for help and were just sitting here suffering alone. I thought I’d help even a little bit.”

It was sweet, it was really sweet. She even smiled a little bit. “Well, thank you.” Aqua kicked her legs up onto her bed as he reached down to pull the comforter up over her. “I take it as a big brother you know how to take care of someone with a cold?”

He sat down on the edge of her bed, reaching over to briefly place his hand on her forehead. “And a fever, yes.”

She rolled her head on her pillow, looking up to meet his blue eyes. Were they always that blue? That compassionate? She didn’t know.

“Hey,” he said. “Did the person you were supposed to meet ever show up?”

Aqua felt her stomach sink at the mention even though it wasn’t an unusual thing to ask. “No,” she said. “He never did.”

Terra clicked his tongue in thought and she was sure something snarky was about to follow. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. You deserve better than being stood up like that. He’s an idiot for doing that to you.”

Aqua felt like she was staring but she couldn’t help it; of all the things she was expecting that was not it. Who was this and what had he done with Terra? Maybe it always was Terra but she was too stubborn to see the boy who lived behind her coworker. “Ah, well, thank you, that’s sweet of you.”

She paused for a second. On any normal circumstances she would never even consider opening her mouth to say what she was thinking to him, but he was here and he was being so nice, and she was admittedly not in her right mind. “Do you think…” she started, biting down at her lip to voice the one thought she couldn’t get out of her head. “Do you think he was there? And he took one look at me and left? Do you think it was me?”

“No,” Terra said quickly. “I don’t think that would ever be the case. You’re pretty, any guy would be lucky to look in and see you sitting there. Maybe something came up and he wasn’t able to tell you, or maybe he was too nervous to show his face. I don’t think it was you.”

Aqua stared at him; she didn’t expect him to say anything like that to her, not now not ever.

“I’m also, ah…” He glanced away, looking over her probably terribly messy room. “I’m sorry for intruding on you last night.”

“Oh, ah, it’s okay.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I was just nervous.”

He opened his mouth to say something but the teapot whistled from the other room. He got up with a slight smile and left her room. Aqua could only watch after him.

This was…a weird day. Seeing this small glimpse of him though…it was just astounding to her; maybe this was the real Terra. Sure he was laid back and didn’t hold the rules as high of a regard as she did, but maybe that was because he was understanding and wanted to give everyone a chance. He never punished Lea for being late, or Sora for mixing up an order, or Kairi for chatting too much but maybe it was because he was empathetic, understanding how and why they did the things they did.

Maybe there was a lot of him she didn’t even know.

“Okay,” he said, coming in with two cups in his hands. “Tea is in the mug though it’s very hot so be careful. Water is in the glass because with a fever, you should stay hydrated.”

The tea smelt so good, herbal spices mixing to remind her of an autumn day. She carefully took the mug from him, the steam and warmth making her feel better already.

He placed the water on her night stand, sticking his hands in his jacket pocket as he looked down at her. “Try and stay in bed and get some sleep. I left the tea leaves out in case you want more and soup is still in the fridge. If you need more or want anything different to eat or anything really, you have my number. I don’t live that far away.”

Aqua looked up at him. She was used to how he looked, how he dressed, his facial expressions, his mannerisms but this time it was like seeing a whole different person. “Thank you, Terra, I really mean it.”

“Any time,” he said, reaching a hand up to wave. “Get some rest.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “See you.”

“Bye.” He gave her a slight smile before turning to leave, the sound of her door closing shut was the last thing she heard of him.

What had seriously just happened? She could barely wrap her mind around it as she sipped on her tea. A part of her still wondered if she was dreaming but as she looked down at her quiet phone she did realize one thing.

At least for a little bit she stopped wondering why her friend hadn’t messaged her about last night.

--

Dear OftheShire,

I do hope all is well and nothing serious happened that caused you not to be able to make it. Maybe there was a misunderstanding somewhere along the way (maybe we really weren’t talking about the same schools?). Whatever the case, I hope I haven’t done anything that would’ve kept you away. I’d feel terrible if I made you feel pressured or scared in any way. All I really wanted to do was talk to the person whose company I’ve been enjoying so much!

I hope this doesn’t change anything between us because I would greatly miss being friends with you. If you thinking meeting in person is a bad idea, I’ll never bring it up again! Things can completely stay the same between us here.

I do hope all is well though. Just let me know so I don’t worry too much about you!

--

It was strange how you could go from barely thinking about someone to go to never getting them out of your mind. Maybe it was because Terra finally stopped distinguishing Aqua, the girl he worked with from Aqua, the girl he really liked online. They were both the same people, and he could see that now clearly. He never bothered to before, but seeing the soft look in her eyes as she asked him if he thought it was her that made her date run away, slipping Xion some money so she could go buy herself a sugary coffee, watching how she helped the seven year old girl pick out a present for her mom, how Aqua sang along with the radio when she thought no one was looking, the grin on her face when she teased Lea for flirting with customers again, it was all the same Aqua.

He couldn’t believe he never saw it before.

The few days she was gone from work to recover dragged on and on. He wanted to check up on her but he didn’t want to intrude, once was enough for his heart that nearly pounded out of his chest the entire time he was there. He hoped she’d text him but she never did. He knew he could respond to her waiting message but it didn’t feel right; not after what he did, not after what he knew. Terra felt terrible lying to her even at her apartment but he just didn’t know what he could say that would make any of this right.

He tried to when she did come back to work but all that came out was asking her if she needed more tea and that the magazines looked like a tornado went through them. Terra never admitted to be very smooth.

No, instead he found himself just sort of lingering around the store, trying to keep to himself or help her and the other kids when they needed it. Thankfully with only one week till Christmas left they were swamped at all times and he could keep busy enough to take his mind off the beautiful girl he worked with, the one who made him so happy without even knowing she did.

How had he been so blind?

“Oh, yes, ma’am, its right over here,” Aqua said from around the corner.

Terra leaned around the end of the bookshelf he was doing a quick stock of to see her walking with another woman to one of the bookshelves that lined the walls.

“It’s a beautiful book,” Aqua continued. “Full of beautiful pictures and descriptions, great for any fan.” She reached up to the top shelf to grab some sort of movie art book but the stock was low and she was a little too short to reach it on her own. “Popular as well,” she chuckled as she tried to strain a little harder to grab it with no luck.

Terra left the books he had in his hands on the shelf, moving over to where Aqua was still struggling. He reached over her head to grab the book with no effort. “Here you go,” he said, passing it to Aqua.

She had turned around to look at him, a little too close, he could feel the warmth of her body against his. There was this look in her eyes, one he couldn’t quite read but it melted into that customer service smile. “Thank you,” she said, turning again to hand the book to the customer. “We have to keep some tall employees here just for that.”

The woman smiled her thanks and went to leave, vanishing in the rest of the crowd of customers. Terra knew he should get back to his own work, but he was frozen when Aqua exhaled, leaning back against the bookshelf as she looked back up at him. “I am exhausted.”

“I know the feeling,” he said, reaching a hand up behind the back of his head.

“You need a break?” she asked a sort of concern wrinkling her forehead. “I can hold the fort down.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine but feel free to take it if you need it. I can handle it just fine.”

While before it may’ve ended up in more bickering, now she merely laughed. “I appreciate it, Terra, but I’ll be okay too. I guess we’re better as a team out here anyways.”

He blinked at her, not quite getting what she meant, but she glanced upwards at the top shelf. “Ah, yeah, need those tall arms don’t you?”

“I used to think I was tall for a girl, and then I met you.”

“Ah, what can I say? Born to be a sports person.”

“Were you?”

“No,” he laughed. “I never cared much for playing or watching them.”

She looked at him with that unreadable look again. It wasn’t bad he didn’t think, he just wasn’t sure what was going through her head. “Well, I suppose you do like books better.”

“That I do, obviously.” He found his voice lacking the sarcasm he used to talk to her with, mainly because he really did enjoy talking to her. He thought maybe she felt the same because she was much less abrasive with him ever since he brought her the soup. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea.

She laughed lightly, opening her mouth to say something else but a voice crackled in both their ears, judging by the way Aqua cringed at the same time he did.

“Guys,” Sora whined a little too loudly over the headset. “This customer is angry over a sale. Can one of you come help me?”

Terra reached up to turn his mic on to say he got it but he felt Aqua’s soft touch on his arm.

“I got it, Sora,” she said as she pressed her mic on. “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, thank Jesus. I think they want to murder me.”

“I would’ve gone,” Terra said. “I know you said you were tired.”

“It’s fine,” she said with the smile he had gotten used to the past few days. “I know you’re not a big confrontation person and I love putting people in their place, especially when they mess with my kids.” She winked at him before going to head to the register.

Terra watched her go and almost pitied the person who yelled at Sora. Almost. Terra moved back to where he was stocking, hoping it would keep distracting him till the store closed and he could get some peace and quiet to clean the store in.

“What happened with you?”

He looked up to see Riku standing at the next shelving unit over. He was straightening but he was also eyeing Terra a little curiously. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You and Aqua,” Riku said, gesturing vaguely in the direction Aqua was last in.

Terra arched an eyebrow. “Are you spying on me, kiddo?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Riku said, leaning over to fix the next shelf down. “More like it’s so obvious everyone’s been talking about it.”

Terra froze. “Talking about what?”

“That you guys actually get along now. Some have, ah, interesting theories.”

“People like Lea and Kairi, I’ll guess?”

Riku snorted and that was enough of an answer. “It’s just you guys used to fight-flirt a lot, like we all couldn’t tell if you hated each other or liked each other but now you guys…I don’t know, seem happy?”

Terra decided he’d ignore the fact the employees apparently talked about his and Aqua’s relationship dynamics (and referred to it as flirting none the less). “Huh, I mean nothing really changed.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Something changed somewhere.” Riku crouched down but looked up towards Terra. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you smile so much especially around this time of the year when you’re stuck at work. Whatever it is, I’m glad to see you happy.”

Terra knew something changed in himself, and maybe because of his attitude change, it made Aqua feel better about him but he didn’t think it was that apparent to everyone else. “Well, thanks I guess but nothing’s really changed. I guess we just learned how to work with each other.”

Riku made some sort of noise of acknowledgement but otherwise went back to straightening the books. Terra tried to do the same but he couldn’t focus on what went where. He couldn’t see or hear Aqua but he was so aware of her presence. There was no going back for him now, not when he knew it was her. He knew why she made him happy but the disappointment she’d feel knowing he was the person she was waiting to hear back from was enough to make him look back to his job.

He knew he had to tell her, lying to her only made him feel worse every day. It would both ruin the relationship they had, and the one that was only just growing but he had to make it right to her. She deserved that and so much more.

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

I’m not sure I have words to apologize to you. I could sit here and make excuses all day long but the truth is I have none. I’m the one who chickened out and in the end couldn’t face you. There was nothing you did wrong; I can assure you of that. I’m not quite as outgoing as I may come across and the thought of facing you made me turn away. Then in turn, the thought of facing you in shame of what I’ve done got me delaying in telling you what happened.

I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me to meet again but I still would like to make it up to you. The large Christmas tree in the center of West Town Mall, it’s beautiful you know? I know how much you love Christmas (and hate the cold so this is inside). If you have time maybe the day before Christmas Eve,  I’ll wait for you there. I know you typically work nights so after closing.  I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to show up, but this time I promise I’ll be there. I can’t promise I’ll wear bells in my hair, but I think you’ll know me when you see me.

--

Aqua couldn’t get the nervous buzz out of the pit of her stomach, which meant it was probably bad to be walking back into the store with more coffee for herself, but she couldn’t help it. She balanced the tray and a couple bags of food past some customers who were digging through the bargain bin, more running to grab last minute presents all around her. Thankfully she made it to the backroom without anyone running into her and spilling either coffee cup.

Terra was already sitting at the table, fiddling with his phone. She smiled as the door swung behind her; at least the nice thing about working the day before Christmas Eve was the boss was here all day and she could take her break at the same time as him tonight.

“Ta-da,” she said, placing the tray down on the table. “Surprise caffeine.”

“Bless you,” he said, leaving his phone on the table. “But you seriously didn’t have to get me anything, Aqua.”

“It was nothing.” She waved him off before reaching for one so she could read the markings. “I figured you were as dead on your feet as I was.”

“You’re right there.”

“Just today and tomorrow,” she said, handing him the one marked with nothing but coffee in it. “Then a day off.”

“Yeah, until we have to come back for all the after-Christmas sales.” He took the coffee from her, but his fingers were warmer than she expected, making her jump just a little when they brushed against her hand.

“Optimism, Terra, c’mon now.” Aqua sat down in the chair across from him, thankful to not be on her feet even for a little bit. She brought the warm coffee up to her lips, hoping it would help her lingering exhaustion.

He snorted but he didn’t say anything else as he sipped carefully at his own drink.

“Oh, here, this too.” Aqua grabbed one of the food bags to peek into it before sliding it over to him.

He choked slightly, probably out of surprise. “You’re too much. You know you don’t have to make sure I eat, right?”

She hummed, grabbing her own bag before leaning back again. “I don’t know, you look like someone who would forget to eat.”

It was the strangest thing. Where she once didn’t even like having to share the same space as him, she found herself standing at the café in the mall wondering what Terra would like off the menu. She admittedly didn’t know and had to guess completely, but so far he was drinking the black coffee with no complaints as he peeked into the bag curiously.

“It was the least sweet thing I could find,” she explained, pulling out her own pastry which she made sure was the polar opposite.

It was like the thought surprised him as he looked back up to her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she chuckled, pulling off a piece of her pastry to pop in her mouth. “It’s the holidays, there’s been cookies and pies and cakes galore back here and you’ve never touched any of them. I figured you didn’t really like sweets too much.”

“Ah, well, you’re right,” he said, placing the pastry on top of the bag, a sort of smile on his lips. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course, we have to survive all this madness together.”

He hummed in response, leaning back in his chair as he carefully ate the pastry she brought him.

Aqua wasn’t quite sure how it happened. She didn’t know how she went from trying to ignore him as best she could at work to actually looking to see if his name was on the schedule with her. Almost just as surprising was the disappointment she felt when they were scheduled separate. Was he always this sweet and kind and she just never saw it? Did she ever give him the chance to understand he just operated on a different level than she did?

She didn’t know. All she knew was she regretted the way she treated him before. Ever since he brought her food when she was sick, she couldn’t get him out of her head. Even going so far as to having the desire to text him for no reason other than she wished she could see him more than just at work when they were so busy and never really got a chance to say much. She did stop trying to always take control of things, knowing that no matter what he was doing he’d do it to the best of his abilities, even if it was a much quieter way than she’d do it. She actually found his presence with her more comforting than anything, knowing he’d be there if she needed it. Aqua didn’t know why, because she didn’t deserve it in the least but it was a nice thing.

Also a very conflicting thing as she was supposed to meet the person she had been talking to for months again tonight.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

Aqua blinked as she remembered she was still sitting at the table staring down at her food. His was already gone, just crumbs remaining as he went back to his drink. “Ah, nothing important,” she said, reaching to pick at her pastry.

Terra tipped his cup to his lips, gesturing with his hand for her to continue. Did she mention how easy it was to talk to him, too? For all the bickering they used to do, she found conversation with him so easily. He was quiet but always attentive, like nothing she said ever bored him. Why did they used to fight so much? Aqua couldn’t even begin to remember.

“I’m well, I’m supposed to meet that guy again tonight.” The nerves tightened in her stomach just at the thought, making her otherwise delicious food seem unappealing.

Terra arched his eyebrows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” she groaned, her head falling backwards some.

“Did he at least apologize to you?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t really tell me what happened other than it was on him, and that he wanted to try for a second chance.”

“Do you think he deserves it?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Aqua said, maybe a little too quickly judging by the way her heart leapt up into her throat with Terra’s eyes on her. “I just…I don’t know.”

Terra leaned forward, placing his cup on the table. “In the end it’s up to you. You seemed really upset when he stood you up last time. You have every right not to want to put yourself through that again.”

She hesitated. “Do you think I should go?”

“It’s not my choice to make,” he laughed lightly. “It’s up to you and how you feel. If you still feel like you want to meet this person then go, if you don’t feel like you can trust them after what happened then don’t. Don’t ever feel forced to do something just because you think it’s what other people want.”  

Did she still want to? She knew there was a part of her that did, who wanted to meet the person she had so many wonderful conversations with, who made her feel light and warm, happy even when she otherwise might not’ve felt those things. Yet, there was another part of her who was aware there was a person sitting in this room who also had the ability to make her feel that way, who took care of her when he absolutely didn’t have to, who kept the kids at the store out of trouble because he knew they meant well, who did anything without a complaint.

“You’re right,” she said, bringing her coffee back up to her lips. Their break would be over in any second, and she’d have to go back to work and try to not be distracted…by a lot of things.

Terra seemed accepting enough with her answer as he leaned back in his chair. Granted that didn’t last too long as the door swung open.

Xion had her head popped in. “Boss said break’s up, sorry, guys.”

“It’s fine, be right there,” Aqua said, moving to shove the rest of her pastry in her mouth (that absolutely got a chuckle from Terra). She grabbed her coffee to take with her as she stood; she was hiding it behind the counter, they could pry it from her cold, dead hands.

“Hey, Aqua?”

She paused, turning back to Terra who was standing but not really making any other move to leave. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He looked a little unsure, and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her not to go (or hoped? She wasn’t quite sure). “I’m sorry, about how I’ve treated you in the past. It was, ah, really wrong of me.”

Despite the fact she was about to head back to the floor on one of the busiest nights of the year, she couldn’t hold back her smile at his sweet sentiment. “You don’t have to apologize, Terra. I wasn’t always very kind either, so I’m sorry about that.” She paused for a moment, well aware Xion was probably about to stick her head back in to get them moving. “I’m glad it’s not like that anymore though.”

“Me too.”

Aqua barely had time to register the sort of sweet smile on his lips as she pulled open the door, her head instantly filled with Christmas music and the noise that came with a packed store. She did think about how well his smile fit his face, how sincere he was in a simple apology as she bustled around trying to assist where she could and keep the customers happy. It really didn’t help her choice she had to make, it only made it even harder.

In the end, once the store was cleaned and closed up, she bid farewell to her coworkers and walked down the nearby stairs to the first floor of the mall. She could’ve gone to her car and left, but at the same time she couldn’t abide having him feel the same way she did just the week before. Aqua wasn’t sure what she’d say or what she’d do, if she even felt the same way she did before but in the very least he was her friend and he deserved to be treated with respect.

The tree was so big it reached the second floor of the mall, all filled with garland, ornaments, lights, and bows. It really was beautiful. Usually it was filled with lines of kids coming to see Santa but now it was empty, the lights twinkling and soft music playing over the radio. No one else was there, and she tried not to feel the familiar sink of disappointment.

Aqua moved to walk around the tree, to see if anyone else was waiting around the other side. No one, not even lingering mall shoppers, everyone was gone already. She sighed, reaching to her pocket for her phone to see how long she should wait before leaving this endeavor too. She stopped short when she heard footsteps in her direction.

Her heart was in her throat when she looked up but it really didn’t clear anything up. “Terra?” she asked, as he continued to walk up to her. “Did you forget something?”

He had his hands in his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly. He had keys so she wasn’t sure why he’d need her if he forgot something in the store but still he didn’t stop till he was standing in front of her. The look on his face was a little unreadable, but he looked more nervous than anything.

It was that moment Aqua realized while she told Terra she was supposed to meet her friend tonight, she never actually said where.

“I know I said you’d know me when you saw me,” he said, reaching a hand up to the back of his neck. “But I realized you never did before, so I suppose I probably should’ve brought bells or something.”

Aqua felt her purse fall off her shoulder but she made no move to get it, she could only bring her fingers up to her mouth as she stared at him. It made sense; it made way too much sense for her to have never seen it before. Everything she knew about her friend she knew in Terra too, right down to how gentle and caring she always thought him to be.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that night either. I just…didn’t want you to feel disappointed that in the end it was me.”

“Terra,” she choked. The emotions swirling through her made tears pricked her eyes in a wave of relief that she didn’t even know she was looking for till he was standing there; that the person she looked forward to seeing at work was the same person she waited for each message from. “I couldn’t…I wanted it to be you.”

He didn’t seem to be expecting that, nor did she expect to put her hands on his face, bringing herself up to press her lips to his. Terra recovered from his surprise enough to reach a hand to her face, the other to her back, pulling her in.

She heard the Christmas music playing lightly, the smell of pine and cinnamon, the lights behind her eyes but mostly she felt the familiar warmth he brought her, his gentle hands against her as he kissed her back. For the first time since she met him, both at work and through their messages, everything just felt simply right.