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danifics18 · 4 years

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↪ Tutor Sessions (M) ↩

Tags : Mature//Dirty Talk//switch! Reader//switch! Hongjoong//Slight throat grabbing//Slight Hair Pulling//Dorm Fucking//PWP//

Word Count : 3042

General Masterlist Ateez Masterlist

A/N : This is my first requested, so I do hope it’s meeting expectations. I only speak one language, so I hope i’m not playing too much into bi-lingual stereotypes. Things said in English will only be bold, and things in Korean will be bold and in italics. Ngl this has a bit of a porn type of cheesiness to it. I don’t know why, but I got major switch! vibes when I was planning this out, so if anything seems a bit odd, please keep in mind that I am a bratty sub trying to write something that is way out of my league 💕

“Mom, I know, I know. I’m really having a nice time here, and I feel like I enjoy it a lot more than I would’ve if I’d stayed back closer to home,” You say into your phone before briefly pausing to take a sip of your quickly cooling coffee “Mom, I’d really like to keep talking, but I do need to make it to my class. I’ll call you before I eat dinner, yeah?”. After a few more I love you’s, and a promise to go home for Christmas, you finally say your final good-byes before hanging up the phone.

Your family never quite understood your need to move away for college, them preferring if you stayed closer to your small hometown. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around your family, you just took the first chance you could, to explore the world a bit before you felt like you really had to settle down. And while that was easier said than done, you had made the plan to move away for college since your first teenage job at a Korean Market, in the town next to yours. You’d been quite close with the owners, since you and their daughter had grown up together as best friends- you would be staying at each other’s houses multiple times a month since you guys were eight years old. As you’d gotten older, and had stayed around your best friend’s family, you ended up learning quite a bit of the Korean language yourself. It wasn’t until you got into high school that your friend’s grandma moved in from South Korea, and had decided that she would help out at the store by counting inventory in the back ( although that really meant getting invested in a Korean show, until someone walked back to check on her ). She didn’t know any English, and you only knew basic Korean, and feeling rude for not being able to effectively communicate with her, you enlisted the help of your best friend to help you learn. It took a lot of work, but you got a hold of the language eventually. And from that point on you were able to really connect with your best friend’s grandmother ( not to say you didn’t have a few language slip ups, because you definitely did ), but soon enough, one of your favorite past times became watching Korean daytime shows, and listening to your friend’s grandmother talk about her past time in her native country and all the places you should visit if you go. In your third year of high school, she unfortunately past on, but your past conversations sparked a need to travel in you, although you didn’t know how to make it happen. It wasn’t until your best friend brought up that she felt the same way, that you two made final plans to attend college in Seoul.

Years later, and you two were in your second years of college, living in a dorm together ( even though you guys were excited to have a roommate, you were even more glad that you didn’t have to share any space with another person ). It was difficult learning how to live in a new country, but it kept you on your toes in a way that you learned to enjoy.

Tossing your head back to down the rest of your now cold coffee, you walk to your last class of the day. Your counselor had convinced you that even though you were a foreigner who knew English, you should still take the English Language class for some easy credits- and it really wasn’t a hard class. You obviously knew everything, although, you did forget some words occasionally, due to speaking only Korean most of the time.

Sitting down at your seat and pulling out your laptop for notes, you look to the side as your seat neighbor sits down, pulling his earbuds out from his ears. As he glances over at you, you smile and give him a small

‘Hello’

, smiling even wider when he does the same. Kim Hongjoong was a boy you didn’t really know personally, mainly because of how quiet he was, but you heard about him from the way people usually talk about him. At any of the good parties, you would hear both the cheers and complains if he would show up. The cheers due to the fact that people felt like they had a chance to get with the handsome and charming Kim Hongjoong, and the complains due to how he and his friends would be the only ones getting most of the female ( and some male ) attention- supposedly taking it away from any other men at the party. You didn’t really understand it, yes, he’s handsome, and you have no doubt in your mind that he could probably be charming, but he never asked for attention at parties. Most of his time would be spent helping his drunk friends not cause too much chaos, or just generally looking like he’s having a good time with his friends- you’ve never seen him talk to anyone else, unless it was to help a random drunk person from stumbling over as they walk by him.

Shaking out of your thoughts, you focused on your professor and the topic of this week- human anatomy. You knew you really didn’t need to take notes, but you decided to anyway when the professor started showing slides that were titled with the scientific words of body parts- although they mentioned that you wouldn’t lose points on the test if you couldn’t remember the scientific words rather than the non-scientific.

As class ended and you were packing up your bag you heard a soft “Excuse me,” from the seat next to yours. Turning your head to look at the blue haired boy, you raise your eyebrows with a small “Yes?” “I don’t mean to bother you, but you’re the only person in this class that already knows English, and I really didn’t understand these notes at all. If you have the time, do you think you could help me review?” he asks with a small hesitation before continuing his ramble “If you don’t have the time that’s fine too, I could probably find someone who could help, I thought it would just be easier since we sit next to each other,” He finishes with a slight hue of pink on the tips of his ears.

Giving a small smile at his shy state, you tell him of course you’d have time to help him. Other classmates have asked you for help before as well, so it really wasn’t anything new to you. After exchanging numbers, you both decided to meet up the next day at your dorm, since your friend had work and school until later on that night- and his apartment would be way too noisy since he shares it with three other boys.

The next day, you’d woken up at a decent time, and immediately cleaned around the house and got ready for your guest to come over for the day. By noon, you had a knock on your door, and you walked over to let in Hongjoong with his laptop, bag and two cups.

“I hope you like fruit smoothies, because I feel bad that you’re helping me without any payment I would've got you a coffee, but I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured that most people like fruit,” he said while handing you the smoothie and kicking off his shoes. “Thank you! I really like fruit smoothies, I haven’t had one in a while, especially since I usually drink coffee to keep me up,” you retort,” Here, we could study in the living room if you want, but since we don’t have any extra plugs here, we’ll have to move to my room if we need to charge anything.”

The first hour of studying went well, you both had taken pretty good notes, and your previous knowledge helped out quite a bit as well- so you two decided to order some food, and by the time it would make it to your apartment, you’d both be ready for a break from studying. The extra thirty minutes of the food arriving made you both restless, both shuffling and readjusting yourselves on the couch- occasionally brushing arms and thighs together- both getting up to get the food at the door. Chuckling at how eager you both were for not only the food, but for a break as well, you told him to wait at the table while you got the food.

Settling everything out, you guys began eating and talking. You learned that Hongjoong is a music major, and he works at a local radio station, which explains why he comes into class with dark circles under his eyes at times.

“You know, I’m actually really glad that you asked me for help. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you yet, and you always seem really friendly,” You tell him while taking a bite of your food. He looks up from his plate, with evident surprise in his eyes “Really? Well I’m really glad I talked to you then. You’ve always seemed a little bit intimidating because of how unbothered you act, but I like that...,” He trails off, eyes following the your fork leaving your lips, a stain of red sauce next to your lip,” Oh, you have a bit of..,” He gestures to the side of your lip, eventually just licking his thumb and gently wiping the sauce off your face and resting it on your bottom lip for you to lick off.

With wide eyes, you wrap your lips around his thumb, licking it clean, with a heat rushing through your cheeks and core. Hongjoong cuts the groan erupting from his throat off with a cough and pulls his thumb out- letting the groan out when he sees the string of saliva from his digit to your mouth. As you both gravitate towards each other slightly, you rest your hand on his upper thigh and ask “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”, “I mean we do need to study, but I think I figured out a way we can study, and I can repay you for your kindness,” he replies with a devious glint in his eye.

And with that, you put your hand on his jaw and guide him to your face to meet in a searing kiss that leaves your head reeling. Pulling back to leave a few pecks on his bottom lip, you catch his lips into a proper kiss, catching his lip with your teeth. The whine he lets out goes straight down, causing you to clench on air.

After a few moments, he finally pulls back from you, chest heaving, and strokes your head. Humming in thought, you get up and pull his hand to follow after you to your room. You lead him to sit on your bed, while you stand in the middle of your room, with a hip cocked out to the side, as you eye each other with a hunger in your eyes. Running his tongue over his lips, he decides to speak, “Are you going to do something, or are we just going to stare at each other all day?”, “Depends. Are you going to be good for me?”, Seeing him vigorously nod his head, you continue “Good. This is how it’s going to work. I’ll ask you questions about the names of body parts, if you get them right, I’ll undress. Get them wrong, and I stay dressed. If you’re really good, I might even let you touch. Got it?” , “Yes ma’am,” He replies, now sitting forward on the edge of the bed, leaning his hands on his knees.

Moments and a few items of clothing later, you were down to your lacy bralette and underwear, nipple piercings glinting through the see-through fabric, in the dim lighting of your room. Hongjoong was leaning back against the head board of the bed- clad in boxers only, after him whining about it being unfair that you were undressed but not him- with a hand poorly covering his covered hard on; while you sat on the foot of your bed, resting on your knees, legs spread enough that your arousal could be seen starting to run down your thighs.

“Okay baby, here’s the last pieces. Since you’ve been so good for me, I’ll let you touch me once they’re off,” Once the words come out your mouth, Hongjoong jumps up, resting in front of you on his knees as well. Reaching your hands down, you cup your breasts, slightly teasing your nipples through the fabric. “M-mammary glands?” He hesitantly questions, before speaking with more confidence, “Most people call them breasts, or tits,” he finishes, face lighting up at you slowly taking the bralette off.

Quickly pushing your hands away, he reaches around your back to pull your chest closer to his. Thumbing your nipples, he gently pulls on the metal barbell, relishing in the moan that leaves your lips. Clearing his throat, he begins “These are nipples. Fuck, I didn’t expect you to have piercings, you’re so fucking hot,” he finishes before leaning down to wrap his lips around your nipple, other hand gently pulling on the other. Letting out a whine as his teeth graze your nipple, you run your hand through his hair, feeling your resolve slip the more attention he gives you.

Opening his eyes to peer up at you, he detaches from you before pushing you onto your back, and straddles your thigh, his leg against your hot core. Grabbing his face, you bring him into a kiss, sucking on his tongue while your hips move to grind on his leg. Swallowing your moans, he pulls back, hand resting on your neck to keep you from following him, “Sweet girl, you aren’t done helping me, are you?,” Watching as you dumbly shake your head with blown out eyes, he chuckles “I’ve barely touched you and your this fucked out? Poor thing. Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you come on my cock,” You let out a groan, not expecting him to sound this good while saying dirty things to you.

Rutting against his legs, you beg for him to touch you, and you quiet down once he places his hand over your core. “Right here? You want me to touch your little pussy?” He mockingly asks, smiling at the gasp that leaves your lips. He tears the flimsy material off your body, and spreads your thighs, sitting back to get a better view of you. “What do you want me to do, little one?”, “Please just fuck me, I need your cock,” You plead, hips raising up to search for friction.

He looks at you for a brief second, as if he were debating saying something, but chooses not to as he takes his remaining clothing off, his member slapping up against his lower stomach. Saliva fills your mouth as you realize how much you want to taste his leaking shaft, but you push that thought to the side as you whine for him to hurry.

“You don’t want me to prep you baby? You seem so small, and I don’t want to hurt you,” He starts before you cut him off “Please just fuck me, I know I’m wet enough for you. Just really need your cock to split me open,”. With your final plead, he grabs his length, pushing into you with a groan. You moan out from feeling the delicious burn of his cock stretching you open. As he bottoms out, you feel his cock twitch in you, clenching around him, and you reach forward to pull him down to kiss you.

Feeling you relax, he starts to pull out slowly, just to thrust back in with enough power to make you breathless. Leaning back up onto his heels, he increases his pace, one hand snaking down to rub your clit, the other being pulled by you to wrap around your throat. With the change of his angle, his cock hitting your sweet spot, you let out a loud whine, which makes him in turn thrusts faster into you while grasping the sides of your neck enough for you to see stars.

“Fuck baby I’m so close, be a good girl and come for me. Let go for me,” He huffs out, sweat on his brow, somehow making him look even hotter than what he already was. The knot in your stomach felt different that it had any other time you’ve came, and although you were sensitive, you were curious to see how this would make you feel. Grinding your hips up, you didn’t know if you were trying to chase this high or get away from Hongjoong’s stimulation.

“Stop running from me baby, c’mon, take what I have to give you,” the blue haired man says, his hips going at an even faster pace, his thumb following suit. Just as you feel him twitch inside of you before releasing, he slaps your clit- you cry out at the feeling, the knot in your stomach erupting, and your vision going white. Breathing unevenly, you come back to, seeing Hongjoong’s form looking down at your shaking body, giving you a tired, blinding smile. “You with me sweetheart? You did so well,” He says as he helps you sit up to sip the water bottle that was on your nightstand.

After calming down, you finally look down, noticing that not only was Hongjoong’s lower half soaked, but so was your bed sheets. “Holy shit Hongjoong, you made me squirt,” you exclaim out in shock, “It was really hot, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” He retorts before laying down next to you, wrapping his arm around you. “Like I’m the only one?” You huff out a laugh, “What happened to you needing help with English? You’re definitely a lot better than what you claimed you were,”, “Hey I needed some type of excuse to get to talk to you, alright?”, he explains as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

#hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez #ateez smut #requested smut #kpop smut #switch hongjoong

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

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Hayloft- Ezra x Reader

AN: hahahahahahah hello.....So I know that have have shit I was supposed to write but life has taken every bit of creativity from me so I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually write those. So I am sorry if you have been waiting forever for me to post a story. I’ve also made the decision to close my requests indefinitely unless I change my mind because I just don’t do well with them, sorry. BUT, I struck gold and got the idea for this fic and before I lost the inspo I wrote like a mad man all yesterday! So I do hope you enjoy! And yes, I did get the idea while listening to Hayloft by Mother Mother

Also this is going to be a two part story, I am currently working on the second part and it should be posted tomorrow morning most likely. And I made a playlist, if you’d like to listen to it (I am open to song suggestions to be added!)

Ao3 Link

Masterlist

Words: 3.1k (this a beast for me lol)

Warnings?: not really, AFAB reader, mentions of a stroke, Ezra’s charm (that needs a warning), bad poetry formatting (sorry tumblr destroyed how I had it in my Doc)

The itchy scratchy feeling of the hay digging through my nightwear was worth every uncomfortable second if it meant I could continue to sit here and listen to the man across from me, with his eyes that held galaxies and voice the carried the lilt of the most wonderful song, with that unplaceable accent. He was worth being tired in the morning from staying up all night up here in the loft of my family’s small barn. He was worth all the sneaking around and small meaningful glances sent each other’s way when no one else was paying attention, the brushing of hands when handing something to the other. I wouldn’t change anything about this unless it meant the small glances or the gentle brushing against each other didn’t have to be hidden from the others, if it meant that I could just be with the hypnotic man across from me with his hair as dark as the freshly tilled ground at the being of a harvest minus that one soft looking patch as white as a newly hatched chick’s down and a smile so crooked and white that it felt almost as if he was casting a spell over my very heart and soul. He was worth the pain of picking hay from my hair and clothes in the morning when I have to sneak back into the farmhouse, while already missing the touch of his rough and calloused but gentle hand. It was all worth every bit as long as he helped me forget everything just for the time being.

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Living on K-5 was rather simple. The planet was neither big nor small and it was known for its fertile soil that could grow just about any plant whether it was native to the world or not and once one harvest season had finished the other started as the weather always was spring-like with perfect growing conditions. Not many came to stay and those who did worked their entire life in planets many fields of harvest. To the few that actually knew the name of the forgettable planet called it the bread box of the known universe. Though the planet was known to very few people throughout space, the planet’s harvests could be found on just about any other planet or moon feeding just about everyone.

The farmers of K-5 were known to have bigger families on the premise of needing hands to work the land for food of their own and for money. The farmers also knew that most of their children would leave the planet and look for better elsewhere, and would hope beyond hope that at least one of their children would settle on the sad planet and continue working their farm. Though if luck would have it there might come a ship every so often with people willing to lend hands and work the land if they were compensated well enough. Most that came were floaters looking for something to do in between prospecting jobs, others were looking for a quiet place to finally settle after a long life.

My father had been one of 12 brothers and he was the only one to stay and take over the meager farmer his father and his father’s father had set up on a small corner of the planet. My father never really talked about his siblings, only ever calling them stupid for leaving the haven that was K-5 for a world they had no place to be in. My mother had been brought here by her mother, who had been a floater. They had made acquaintances with a farmer a town or so over and had lived there as farmhands as that family’s children started dwindling as they left. I have been told that my mother had a fire to her that no other on the planet had, that she was a woman of grace and humility, which is rare in space these days, something I was told I inherited though I’m not so sure I believe. We were a small family, I had two older brothers, twins identical in only their looks. Joshua, a dreamer as my father put it spitefully saying he inherited that from our mother, while his brother Anthony took after our father with his pessimistic view of everything including the world outside of our farm and K-5. I always counted Joshua lucky, he was able to sneak out of our small farmhouse late one night only leaving a note on my bedside table saying goodbye as he left one of the few ships to land on our soil. Father always resented me much like he did Joshua for multiple reasons, one of them being that it was the reason mother had passed, as Anthony informed me one night when asked, another reason being that I supposedly looked like a carbon copy of her, as I was told by the few farmers that remembered her, and lastly and most importantly was my fascination with the outside world. He hated that “Joshua did nothing but fill your head with fantasies.” He hated that because of our small family we needed all the farmhands we could get and that I would always sit with them listening to anything they would tell me, though few would say much as the floaters tended to be a quiet breed, preferring to keep to themselves.

In our town, the floaters and drifters were usually pointed to our farm when looking for work and usually met with my father before I ever had a chance to meet them, most ignoring me throughout their short stay, anyway. If we were lucky we would get one or two by the time harvesting or planting time had come around and they were always roomed in Joshua’s old room, now cramped from shoving multiple cots into the room rather than one small bed. The room was furthest from mine, which made it hard to sneak into to and talk with those who were willing to feed my curiosities. Having been caught and reprimanded enough times by both father and Anthony I had to learn how to be light-footed and sneak around unseen, though I believe that after awhile Anthony has given up on trying to ‘knock some sense’ into me and just doesn’t try anymore.

Life was the same for me day in and day out nothing much changing other than the faces and names of the floaters staying on our humble farm. Excitement in our corner of space was far and few between, leading me to seek it out through any means possible, and more often than not it was the few books I was able to get my hands on them being rare as they were, were exceptionally hard to find new stories. Though luck would have it, I was able to get my hands on three battered books whose covers were so worn and dirtied over the years that any image or words depicted were hardly seen. Of everything on my solemn planet, these were what kept me sane, even if I had read and reread each dozens of times. Though their covers were faded, the titles were imprinted in my mind. I treasured my well-loved copies of Pride and Prejudice, The Hobbit, and Frankenstein and kept them close to my heart while also hiding them from my father for fear of how he’d react to them. Though I love every book I owned, it was the newest in my collection that meant the most to me, for it was the first thing that brought the man I long for and I together, a rather small but thick copy of a collection of poems and stories written by Edgar Allen Poe.

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Waking up on Saturdays were the only time when I didn’t mind having to roll out of bed and deal with the early hour chill. Saturdays were the days that I got sent to town to collect groceries and odds and ends for the farm from the weekend markets. Father learned early on that I had the same touch as my mother when I came to finding the best bargains and deals, so he began sending me in his stead while he and Anthony ran other errands or helped the current farmhands do morning chores.

This Saturday wasn’t much different, upon waking and changing into the day’s clothes, I pulled my hair out of my face before stepping out of my room to head to the kitchen to find the list of what was needed on the counter along with the money needed. As usual, I went through my Saturday routine of making a thermos of coffee before pocketing the money and grabbing my bag. I slip my thermos into the side pocket of the bag as I slip the strap over my shoulder, before grabbing the list and scanning the contents as I walked to where my boots were stored next to the door. While glancing through the list, I started to slide my boots on before stopping. In a small section at the bottom were a few items that were reserved only for the few saturdays that the supply ship stopped in our area of the planet, which was very rare if ever. The supply ships were sent to the planet every couple of months with limited supplies and it landed in certain areas to sell what ever cargo it had brought, only to leave when empty. Only the ships usually were emptied after the first two or three stops and this area was usually one of the last stops, making the ships rare and highly sought after in the area. So the fact that our area was finally getting a ship after almost a year and a half without one was a huge deal. A rather large part of me hoped that there would be floaters on the ship willing to be hired out for farm work, especially since the lack of a ship has made my small family have to tend our meager fame with only the three of us because of the lack of farmhands.

Upon arrival, the town was already bustling with life. Quickening my pace, I went to the center of the town where the new supplies always were held, and upon arriving I made quick work of crossing off everything on the list in hopes of having time to browse for myself. Luck seemed to have shown mercy down on me today as everyone I talked to was fair in prices and after crossing the last item off the long list I still had enough money to buy something for myself and give father change without him being any wiser. Smiling I chatted with a few townspeople and other farmers as I browsed the market, and as I came to the last stall I had yet to look in the market. Having near given up and about to turn from the stall, my eye caught something that had fallen from the makeshift table. Upon picking it up I nearly cried with joy having found what I could only hope to be the next tattered book to add to my collection. Flipping the book over in my hands and flipping through the pages my smile grew as I called the seller over. We haggled the price for a couple of minutes before he accepted my offer with a murmur and taking the money and while turning to begin my journey back to the farm I heard my name being called a couple of stalls over. Looking up, I smiled politely when I noticed it was Mrs.Robertson, taking a deep breath and sighing it back out before making my way slowly over to where she stood.

Mrs.Robertson was a stout woman that had a smile that never seemed to leave her face. She was a lovely woman whose lemon pound cake was well-known amongst the area’s farmers and always had a warm cup of tea and an open ear for whoever walked through her kitchen door, even after her stroke that took all mobility in her left arm. While I have always enjoyed her company, especially as a child when I was longing for a mother figure, recently talking with her always ended with her trying to push her oldest son and I together. Her oldest and youngest sons were the only two of her five children to stay on the planet, and while her youngest had already married and had a couple of children, her oldest didn’t seem to have interest in doing the same, even if she swears that he infatuated with me. Father continuously tells me that he thinks the marriage would be a good idea, even as I tell him it wouldn’t work between the two of us.

So as I walk over to her and give her a hug in greeting I prepare myself for another attempt at matchmaking. Instead after parting from the one-handed hug, she had given me she motioned over her shoulder to a man who was standing there with a crooked smile that seemed to hold every last bit of charm left in the universe, and Mrs. Robertson, without missing a beat spoke up, “I was just explaining to this lovely newcomer that your father is always looking for new people to help with the farm and was just about to point him in your farm’s direction when I noticed you,” as Mrs.Robertson continued to rattle on I took the chance to glance back to the man behind her, only to find that his woefully dark eyes were still watching me with more mirth than I had seen in years. Looking back to Mrs.Robertson quickly hoping that no redness would grace my cheeks, though I knew it was there anyway. She quickly stepped aside and motioned to me introducing me before the man, if at all possible, smiled wider and stuck out his hand introducing himself as Ezra. As I stuck out my hand to shake his I opened my mouth to give him a polite reply only to be shocked into silence when instead of shaking my offered hand he raised it to his shining smile and graced the back of my hand with a kiss. Now I was absolutely certain that there was red dancing across my cheeks, if not my ears as well. Not able to take returning the gaze the man, I know knew to be Ezra, seemed to be piercing my very soul with I turned to Mrs.Robertson, thanking her and wishing her well before turning to Ezra who was still watching me and giving him a shy smile and tilting my head in a motion as to say ‘follow me’.

Ezra seemed to be quiet as we walked throughout the town head back towards the farm, though that might have been because the small talk and greetings that were being thrown my way from those from the area that I was friendly with. When we finally broke from the town and the only sound was the dwindling chatter of the market and buzzing of the local wildlife. Though I was startled to a stop from the previous silence by the man as he spoke melodically and seemingly wit purpose,

“In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed; But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around him, with a ray Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream, that holy dream, While all the world was chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night, So trembled from afar― What could there be more purely bright In Truth’s day-star?”

Having turned to face the man confused, but noticing he was looking towards the sky with a smile, though one smaller than the one he was sporting when you both had made your introductions with each other, this one seeming more blissful rather than purposefully charming. It was only now though that I noticed the absence of his right arm as his left was moved to his face to shield his eyes from the ever glowing sun. Turning his head back to look at me, his smiled widened again before noticing my slight confusion.

“Sorry flower but I couldn’t help but to notice the collection of stories and poems in your hand there, and thought to quote a poem by our dear morose friend Poe. I find his works to be a tad too depressing for my likes but somethings just stick with your very person,” Ezra drawled before sticking his hand out, “May I?”

Unable to really respond as I was still in slight shock I was only able to nod and pass the book over. Where upon gracing his fingers Ezra was able to skillfully thrumb through the book, mumbling quietly to himself with a smile, “It has been quite sometime since I have been able to visit our friend Poe here or any of my other long dead friends I’m afraid,” he paused for only a moment sticking the tip of his tongue between his lips before giving a small quiet winning cry, “ Ah hah! Here you go, ‘A Dream’ by the one and only Edgar Allan Poe.”

Handing the book back with it open on a specific page and there it was, the poem in which he had just quoted in full. Smiling down at the page, before looking back at him with a somewhat astonished look I dog eared the page before sliding it into the bottom of my bag, “No one else around here really reads anymore. At this point I thought I was the last one in the universe to do so. It….it would be nice to actually talk about reading with someone, though regretfully I just met Poe today so we are not quite as well acquainted as you two seem to be,” looking back up with a smirk and remembering my thermos I grab it out of my bag before lifting it up in offering. “Coffee? Its not quite hot anymore but it is probably still warm.”

With his ever wide smile, Ezra stepped up next to me as I slid my bag back into place and gave a small polite nod, “I would love to do nothing more than share what I am sure is the perfect brew with you, darling flower.”

(If you want to be tagged in part two, let me know in my inbox! Also if enough people are interested I am thinking about opening my inbox to talk and expand on this world I’ve created? Anyways I hope you enjoyed! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are always appreciated!! Much love and Happy 2021!)

(Also if you figured out what I based the planet I created off of please tell me, I’d like to see obvious I made it lol. And if you’d like a hint it’s in the USA)

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra (prospect) x you #Pedro Pascal #Prospect #ezra x female reader #the second part may have a little spice #considering the song i based this off of #but not alot bc i have found I suck at smut #but it might be hinted at or briefly described?#anyway i am kinda happy to be back writing wise #ive missed this

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slothgiirl · 4 years

Text

maybe together we can get somewhere (noah x mc)

the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention (12k)

this was fun and experimental to write, trying to build a relationship through the limitations of the gang only getting snippets of noah and mc and hopefully giving enough information to piece together a plot without being to expository. hope u enjoy (noah x mc are soulmates change my mind)

Stacy.

It's a family vacation. Only the second one after her college graduation since she's only living an hour from Westchester.

It's her mom and dad and Connor and his girlfriend and her girlfriend.

Sofi laughs easily, fitting right in at some story Connor is telling and Stacy’s still annoyed that her brother brought up what she and her friends had found in the woods as children when they were at the airport: when anyone could have heard. She doesn't want to deal with it ever again. And she'll get up and move across the country if she has to.

Connor catches her gaze and offers a small smile and just like that; Stacy let's it go.

“Oh a farmers market,” her mom cries out, “we should check it out!”

Her dad laughs, “alright but don't expect me to eat any frankenstein fruit.”

Stacy snorts, finding Vancouver both amazing, and like any other city she's been to. Canada is hardly an exotic travel destination, but it's nice, waking up to a view of the pacific ocean. She wonders if she should visit her old friend since she's in town.

She'd last talked to you on the phone a month ago, surely she could just drop in.

Sofi slides her hand into Stacy’s, before asking, “what are you thinking about?” It's the first time Sofia's really spent time with her family. And her girlfriend knows about her tendency to overthink and now is one of those times.

Stacy's sighs, “just-I have a friend who lives in Vancouver. I was wondering whether I should visit them or not.”

Her girlfriend smiles, leading them into a stall with lots of fruit samples, “You should! If they're your friend I bet they'd be really happy to see you.”

Stacy shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like I'm going to be in Vancouver again anytime soon.”

She grabs a second sample of the blood oranges, before telling Stacy as she decides to get a few for the road, “so who is this friend?” Because Sofi doesn't know about the whole Redfield thing and she'll never know because Stacy doesn't want to burden her with Redfield and also doesn't want to talk about it herself. It's over: in the past. Finished.

“One of my childhood friends like Lucas. There was this whole group of us,” Stacy explains.

“Like Dan,” Sofi nods, understanding. “Do you guys still talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should totally drop by! Personally, I could skip the biking tour.”

Stacy laughs, “my parents really just got us all the types of tour.” It was nice, how much things had changed and the boat tour had been fun even if she’d gotten pretty cold over those two hours, it had just been the perfect excuse to snuggle up with Sofi and a cup of warm coffee inside. Connor and Vy could be outdoorsy together, taking millions of photos of the water and skyline.

“It’s cute,” Sofi comments, “my dad would just grumble about the expense and lead his own tour, no doubt getting us all lost.”

Stacy shrugs, “that’s why we have google maps.”

Sofi laughs, and pays for her oranges.

Stacy’s tired of the crowded stall, so she steps outside to wait. Canadians may be polite, but there’s only so many people brushing past her she can take. She takes out her phone and asks Lily for your address because of course Lily has it; she had sent everyone care packages and birthday presents without fail. Stacy had just sent an electronic gift card and called it a day.

There’s a good crowd but this isn't a sad little farmers market like the one back home that has like nothing but a stall or two.

She finds that she does miss the small town feel of the city she lives in even if she has to drive everywhere and living close to her family is nice even if she’ll forever hate the woods, any woods. Andy and tom had confirmed nothing was out in Westchester but she won’t chance it.

It’s second nature to go through her emails while she’s on her phone.

She scans the crowd, seeing if she spots her family somewhere. And sure enough Connor and Vy are sniffing at some tea samples, looking disgustingly sweet together and Stacy makes sure to take a picture because she went with Connor and Tom to pick out the ring. He just has to pop the question.

Wait! Was she or Sofi going to ask the question? Oh god, Stacy wanted to marry this girl. It hits her like a ton of bricks and they’re only 23, been dating two years so they have time, but Stacy’s sure. This is the one.

The panic subsides as she realizes, yeah, this is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with and that’s no big deal. They’ll take it day by day.

She locks her phone, glances around, ready to go get Sofi who probably struck up a whole conversation with the vendors and is getting invited over to their house for dinner as Stacy stands out here, waiting, and sees. . .well not Noah Marshall because he’s dead. So that’s not possible. And it’s not like she’s in Westchester.

But-but it certainly looks like Noah at a glance.

She can’t actually make out the man’s features, just the back of his head, which wow-Stace, she might just be losing it if she’s starting to see Noah Marshall walking around, but there’s something about the way the man walks and the shade of hair even if the haircut has changed. . .she shakes her head.

She’s imagining things.

“Ready to go,” Sofi asks, putting her hand on Stacy’s arm, “Your mom texted, she said to meet in front of Whole Foods wherever that is. Also, hilarious that there’s a farmers market in front of Whole foods.”

Stacy snorts, nodding, “yeah, let’s go.” And then looks back because it’s been five years and she still wants to kick Noah’s ass even though he’s dead so it’s a non issue at this point.

The man’s gone.

Stacy soon forgets among trying to keep up with the itinerary that her family had made on google docs over the past few months.

They take a ferry in the general direction of the address Lily gave her because it’s a fun way to travel. Connor comes along but Vy stays behind in the hotel because she wants to call her parents.

“Did they go to school here,” Connor asks, because it had been a few years and he hadn’t really kept in touch with you the way Stacy and the others had.

“No,” Stacy explains as she double checks the address while Sofi points out cute houses as they walk down the street google maps is saying the house is on. “They went to UWash. I think they studied something boring like finance which I know Ava made fun of them in the group chat about.”

Sofi, a current law student, asks, “what’s wrong with finance?”

Connor snorts, “you’re talking about the same woman that helped organize supplies for her campus’ black lives matter protests.”

“Ava’s very anti-establishment,” Stacy explains because Sofi hasn’t met Ava. Her old friend had transferred to Berkeley before Stacy started dating Sofi, but not before showing everyone her minor magical abilities. “You know, the whole break up the banks, give native americans their land back, will definitely end up a granola anthropology professor in some university after her goth phase.”

Sofi nods, “Ah, I get it. She’s not wrong about the banks. Did you watch the big short?”

“You have the most boring taste in movies,” Stacy teases because this woman made her watch Dunkirk which was long and boring and the soundtrack gave her a headache.

Her girlfriend shrugs shamelessly, “I did do a film studies minor so. . .”

Stacy knocks on the door. “I hope they’re in.” It’s a cute if small house on the edge of the city, close enough to still be part of Vancouver without being in the middle of traffic. There’s a subway station just two streets over, but taking the ferry had been much nicer. Subways had lost their charm in new york after all the times Stacy had been an hour or two late because of some issue.

“Wait,” Connor asks, raising a brow, “you didn’t text them?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Stacy admits. She hadn’t seen you in over two years. You had even less of a reason to be in Westchester compared to everyone who’s family still lived there. Your house had sat empty since you left for college.

“I think it's cute,” Sofi says, wrapping her arms around Stacy’s waist from behind.

Stacy smiles, blushing slightly.

The door opens up and holy fuck.

Stacy gasps, her mouth forming a wide O because she can’t even form a coherent thought.

A very much alive and happy Noah Marshall opens the door, wearing a pink apron that says something inane “kiss the cook”, with more than a bit of food stains, and flour on his chin. He’s not wearing a beanie, but it’s summer and Stacy is sweating even in shorts, and his hair is cut and styled instead of long and greasy like it had been in high school. His eye color has somehow changed from brown to a strange shiny blue that seems too catlike to be natural but that’s whatever when he’s apparently risen from the dead.

What the hell!

Connor is just as flabbergasted as she is.

And Noah’s caught off guard, the easy smile dying on his lips as he realizes who’s at the door.

It’s Sofi that spares them, asking Noah if you’re home, because she doesn’t know anything about what went down in your senior year of high school.

Noah nods wordlessly, “yeah, yeah, come in,” even though he looks like that's the last thing he wants to do looking as grim faced as he had been in school, sitting in the back and refusing to talk to anyone.

For once, Stacy wishes Sofi wasn't here because she wants nothing more than to kick Noah’s ass. She took kickboxing lessons, she totally could. Noah's taller, but not exactly built in the same way Andy is after all the years of exercise; though he's not exactly a scrawny teenager anymore.

How long has this been going on?

You're sitting at the kitchen table, a cheap flimsy thing from Ikea that at least has the decency to look nice, laptop open while wearing a moth-eaten oversized t-shirt of the beastie boys. You don't even look up, when you ask nonchalantly, “so who was at the door?” You reach a hand from another chip, eating straight from the bag.

“Stacy,” Noah says faux cheerfully. And Stacy did not miss how annoying he could be. “And Connor Green.”

You finally look up. A couple thousand emotions running through your face: surprise as you open your lips to speak and then close it without a word, your brow furrows as you frown, then you exchange glances with Noah, then you're blushing red as you meet Stacy's questioning gaze, caught red handed. After a second, you can't meet her gaze, instead looking at Connor the same way you had that year as if he could single handedly save you from everything and no wonder you asked him to the dance, oblivious to Stacy's crush on you at the time.

“Hey Connor, long time no see,” you get up, crossing the length of the small kitchen to hug him, “Andy's always going on about you, you know.”

Connor manages a smile, “it's good to see you, too.”

“Hi, I'm Sofi,” she says, extending a hand, “Stacy’s told me a lot about you.”

You shake her hand, inviting her to down sit, “all of you. Dinner’salmost ready.” You glance at Stacy asking. . .

She shakes her head. Of course she hasn't mentioned Noah. She's tried to erase him from her memories the same way she's tried to forget all about the ruins in the woods and Dan disappearing.

“Not that you helped,” Noah quips, proceeding to slip back into the kitchen.

“Self care.” You smile back, confirming her suspicion that this had been going on for a while. And you haven't mentioned anything. Not once. But then, you stopped bringing him up when you realized everyone was on the same page, the page you weren't, after what he had done, no amount of childhood tragedy could excuse the fact he had been willing to kill all his friends for some monster. Stacy couldn't find it in her to forgive him, even in death.

Meanwhile, you had spent too much time after everything that happened crying over this jerk.

“What are you making,” Sofi asks as Stacy takes a seat, everything clicking together as you offer everyone something to drink, exchanging lovesick smiles with Noah even as he bats you away from the stove with a spatula.

You loved him.

Despite everything he had done, you loved him. Stacy couldn't understand: had been closer to Dan and you than Noah even as kids. The way you looked at him said everything; the way you'd chased after him, unwilling to let him go into the woods alone.

It made sense why you were so willing to forgive him, and why you had spent so much time mourning him.

“Vegetable pot pie,” Noah explains, starting to roll out the dough, “This one decided to become vegetarian.”

“Since when,” Connor asks, deciding to just go along with it all. Maybe Connor was just mentally stronger, better able to cope with all the supernatural weirdness having helped Tom out at the lake, and still trying to understand the power from all of Pritch’s journals.

“Just a few months ago,” you admit. “It was this whole vegan challenge at work for the month but I missed yogurt a lot but giving up meat was pretty easy.”

“Where are you working now,” Stacy asks, taking a seat carefully, making sure not to turn her back on Noah.

“Oh,” you smile, closing your computer, resting your chin against your hand, “UBC, at the anthropology museum. It's why I-we moved here. I do financial analysis for their investments. Ava found it really funny that I got a job at a museum before her.”

“Oh,” Stacy wonders, glancing at Noah again, who's just as tense if the line of his shoulders is anything to go by, and the telling line of his mouth that reminds Stacy of the first and last time she tried to include him: a APUSH presentation that Noah had waved off and preferred to bomb. “You told Ava?”

She feels the sting of hurt but Ava makes the most sense considering you were closest to her and Lily. Not to mention Ava was still messing around with the occult. A heavy lead ball of anxiety always forms whenever Ava has shown Stacy her magic tricks.

You get the double meaning.

Noah pointedly ignores her, carrying a conversation about the best places to eat in the city with Sofi.

You force yourself to smile, “about the job yeah. Thought she'd laugh since she's the anthropologist. She called it the encroachment of late stage capitalism.”

“That sounds about right for Ava,” Stacy snorts.

You'd chosen Noah over her: over your friends. The choice had already been made before Stacy had even known this was an option.

You two were a packaged deal.

Stacy takes a deep breath, and turns her back on Noah, joining the light conversation of local things to do in Vancouver and how you had completely face planted while trying to ice skate.

“-and instead of helping me,” you tease, getting plates out for everyone, “Noah just sat back and laughed!”

“And took a video,” Noah points out. “You don't have any balance babe.”

“I wouldn't do you like that,” you wrinkle your nose, smiling fondly as Noah brings the food out of the oven, the smell filling the small house and suddenly Stacy’s mouth is watering.

“You have,” he replies all mock offended, “you left me in the cab!”

“I was very drunk,” you shrug shamelessly, then turn to Sofi and Connor with an explanation. “Too much fun on date night.”

“Shut up,” Noah utters, placing the food on the table, looking incredibly soft and it finally sinks in. He's alive. He's alive and you're together and while Stacy doesn't care for him, she's glad you're doing well.

She's still going to punch him the first chance she gets.

The food’s some of the best she's ever had.

She hugs you goodbye two hours later: a great big tight hug that says everything she hasn't been able to because of distance. She puts all her love and tenderness into hugging you. “It was so good seeing you,” Stacy says and means it. One day they'll talk about this.

But not now.

She's dragging Sofi into this.

You nod, hugging her back just as tight, before whispering in softly into her ear, “please don't tell anyone.”

And how could she refuse, with your sweet chocolate eyes looking at her like that, as if she holds everything you hold dear in her hands. It's easy for Stacy to make the choice to look away and say nothing.

Lily.

Britney makes them take a hundred selfies before they even leave the airport. Lily beams at the camera even as she pays for starbucks. “Aw man we should've tried tim hortons now that we're officially in Canada.” Lily muses, shooting you a text, letting you know she'd soon be out of the airport.

“But do they have peppermint frappuccinos,” Britney asks, leading the way as they head to the exit. Airports were always so big. It took forever to get anywhere.

“I'm not big on peppermint,” Lily comments even though Britney already knows that, before taking a long sip of her pink drink. She really had been craving a drink. That was another thing about planes: dehydration. Still, it would be worth it to visit you for the first time since you moved to Canada.

“I know,” Britney winks, “that's just more peppermint bark for me.”

Britney's the one that spots you first. Lily's taller than you, but still pretty short. “Your loser friends over there.” Britney teases and it shows how far she and Lily have come that they're able to laugh about the time wasted in high school where she bullied other kids including Lily.

Lily follows on her heels, fixing her coat to try and look cute. It had only been a three hour plane ride but it was three hours plus dealing with airport security so it felt closer to three years. Gosh it had almost been three years since she graduated college. Time just flew by.

Excitement bubbles up and Lily’s smiling hard when she sees you in an olive green jacket and grey hoodie combo, still the same as ever if happier now that you weren't stressing about school.

She had meant to visit you sooner but being an adult meant things often got in the way.

Then Lily spots Noah Marshall hovering behind you, laughing at something you just said , face lit up like a kid who's just been told they can finally dig into their Halloween candy. Except it can't be Noah because he's dead. Yet here he is, wearing a black coat, washout blue hoodie, and of course a beanie. If Jocelyn was here, she'd say he looks like an asshole wearing aviators indoors.

Removing any doubt of who he is, Lily having already come up with a reasonable explanation of you having coped with Noah's death by finding a lookalike, dies when he spots Britney and Lily before you. “Lily,” Noah grins as if he didn't die after trying to kill her, “you looked like someone kicked your puppy.”

You smack his shoulder. “Behave,” you tease as you try and smother a gasp. You meet her gaze sheepishly, but Lily's still too flabbergasted to respond.

“Aren't you supposed to be dead,” Britney asks.

He deadpans, “Mandela effect.”

This time, you dissolve into laughter.

Noah glances over at you with a smile, pleased with himself.

Lily finally manages, “explain.”

You nod, “let's get you settled in first.”

Britney hands her bag to Noah, “here. I need to carry Lily's bag.”

“Sure thing,” Noah snorts, taking her bag.

Lily had imagined Canada to be much more green. Like a national park green, with so much plant life she could smell it thick in the air, but it's pretty much just another downtown metropolitan area like Seattle. You'd really only moved a few hours away from Seattle so that made sense.

She keeps glancing over at Noah as if he'll disappear and this is some trick from whatever thing still lived in Westchester. But he's still there, flesh and blood, his arm draped around your shoulder as they stand by where she and Britney have taken a seat, bags under their feet. They had only brought carry on bags.

You're obviously together but Lily keeps getting stuck on the fact that Noah's alive.

She isn't surprised. Noah only ever had time for you that year; both of you slinking off when you thought no one was paying attention. Lily remembers seeing you hug Noah in some lonely corner of the school if you didn't skip fifth period math.

And Connor had said he'd seen you both out in town during school hours.

Maybe it's the glasses.

Noah won't be alive to her until she sees his entire face, leaving no room for error.

“Can't believe you're moving to Seattle!” You repeat because yeah Lily had gotten a nice job offer there.

“Neither can I,” Britney complains, “I like SF, and I'd like to live somewhere warm one day. Aren't there any major tech firms in Miami?”

“Nasa,” Lily says thoughtfully, “I didn't have the experience to apply though.”

Her girlfriend frowns, “You went to Berkeley though. That has to count for like ten years.”

Lily laughs.

“You should've shot your shot,” you agree.

“Isn't Florida super humid though,” Noah mentions tilting his head, reminding Lily that he's there and she can't help but flinch. “And there's tons of snakes and agitators everywhere.”

“I like snakes,” Britney notes.

He had been so sweet those last few weeks, Lily thinks to herself. Noah was always saying how she was much stronger because she could be kind even as everything was going to hell. In english, she'd burst into tears, sick and tired of having nightmares just to wake up to a living nightmare, and he'd chased after her, comforting her.

It had made his betrayal hurt all the more.

“So how exactly are you,” Lily asks, dancing around the subject. Surely it was rude to bring up that Noah had been dead.

“Alive,” he replies, quirking his brow, holding Britney's bag as he opens the door.

“Yeah. . .that.”

This time, when you and Noah look at each other, there's no boundless joy that fits in perfectly with the holiday season. You've even put up snowmen in the house's windows, and there's lights wrapped around the porch: off right now. It's just you looking at Noah with glassy eyes and Noah with an amount of tenderness in his eyes that Lily didn't know people were capable of in real life: the look people get when they're finally able to confess how in love they are in movies.

It's only there for a second and then Noah's making light of the whole situation, as if he can't stand to see that haunted look in your eyes, “Well you know what they say, when you wish upon a star-”

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking his arm, then changing your mind and squeezing his arm. “Don't be a dick.” Then you round your attention on Lily, “there's the shoe rack.” Before ushering the group into the living room. “I-I didn't,” you take a deep breath, tugging your coat off as you take a seat on a cheap navy cotton couch. “I guess I never stopped looking for a way,” you glance at Noah, “for a way to fix things. I mean, I still went back there for all the school breaks.”

You've stopped looking at Lily, gaze locked on Noah's. Pink dusts his cheeks and he ducks his head, looking alway, out into the quiet street, skyscrapers in the distance.

Britney purses her lips, listening intently. She heard accounts of this nature from Jocelyn. Dan knee better than to tell her anything about the woods back home.

“And I found it,” you finish without elaboration. Lily understands. Some things were, there were some things too awful to speak once again into being.

He slips his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.

It's sweet and though Lily's reservations remain, it's clear he loves you.

“Okay then,” Britney claps together, knowing full well she was ruining the moment, “how soon can we go shopping. I'm doing all my christmas shopping in Canada.”

“Because of the exchange rate,” Noah sneers, not missing a beat.

“Hardly,” Britney snaps back, “I'm a certified trophy wife now.” She smiles as she looks over at Lily who giggles.

It's two in the morning and Lily keeps tossing and turning. It's warm with the heater chugging away in the night. But she can't sleep.

They'd spent the whole day out, exploring the city. You'd gotten a few days off work. Britney had made you both carry bags and bags of gifts as promised.

At least she'd have plenty of time to wrap them. December had only just begun.

But Lily can't sleep.

It isn't the nightmares of her childhood: of Jane and all the things she wishes she had said no to, or those terrible months in which Lily had nearly died from sheer terror, but a pool of anxiety masquerading as restlessness.

She gets up, having visited you before back in Seattle, back when you had shared an apartment with Ava and a revolving door of roommates during college, and wonders if Ava knows. Ava, who messes around in the more supernatural corners of the world, who you had always been closest too.

Lily gets up and decides maybe a glass of water will calm her down as she chews over the idea of Noah and her both under the same roof.

She slips into the dark kitchen, with that weird anxiety that she was sneaking around that she could never shake even knowing that you wouldn't mind her going through your kitchen. She slips into the kitchen and nearly faints at the sight of Noah at the table.

He's sitting in pitch dark.

Only it isn't-

“-your eyes,” Lily hisses, breaking the calm of the twilight hours.

Noah's sitting in the dark reading.

Because his eyes are glowing blue like redfield when she was little and redfield was a friend and hadn't shown it's true nature.

Noah's eyes are glowing.

“Shit,” Noah says gently, reaching up to flip the lights on.

He moves slowly, but Lily still flinches.

“I'm sorry Lils,” he says, those three words encompassing so many years and the darkest parts of her life, casting a shadow over her whole life she can never escape because Westchester is home but it's also where it happened and Noah's a big part of why Lily spent a year having panic attacks: having flashbacks to that awful game. He says it and the last itchy scab over the deep wound Lily has harbored for years flakes off.

Lily does a little nod of acceptance, but keeps her eyes on his unnaturally reflective eyes, a light in the dark.

She swallows thickly.

That glass of water sounds amazing right about now.

“What are you doing reading in the dark,” she asks. It seems Noah had been right all those years ago; Lily was able to keep trying, a flower growing in a crack of cement.

“Studying,” Noah says calmly. “It's pretty boring actually. Sort of makes me wish I was still haunting the woods.” His smile is small, testing the waters.

Lily-she can't. She shits her eyes, shaking her head once, slow.

“Sorry,” he says easily, shutting a thick textbook, “coping mechanism.”

Lily thinks about all those nights she'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare, “is it a glitch then?” She tilts her head curiously, the way she spent hours going over the same file of code checking for any bugs: and mistakes that had slipped through the cracks.

“You could call it that. . .but they reckon that it's more of a give and take situation.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “The power takes people but gives them power, and when, when they brought me back, I took something with me.”

For once, dread doesn't fill Lily at the mention of what lies in the woods back home.

Lily nods, and pours herself a glass of water. “What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” Noah answer's, “trying to do developmental psychology. I want to,” he waits a beat before finishing in a rush. “I'd like to be a child therapist.”

“I thought you wanted to go to culinary school,” Lily questions. She remembers you mentioning that once. Then there's the fact that Noah had brought her lunch to school a few times when he'd learned that Lily's parents had forced her into a diet.

“I did,” he shrugs. “Turns out I like to cook for myself more than anything.”

Lily smiles.

She's glad he's able to move on like she has.

“You know I use to have nightmares. Nothing really helped apart from-.”

“Tiring myself out,” you both finish.

Noah smiles grimly.

Lily drinks he water and keeps him company for a while.

Lucas

Logically, Lucas knows that Canada is not that different from the states yet he still feel like the place should be more exotic as he steps off the plane for work. It's grueling work really, the pay is bad and he flies economy more than is healthy for his back, but he likes keeping private corporations on their toes. That was the whole point of environmental science, though going to law school for the same thing is starting to look more and more appealing everyday.

He just feels like he doesn't have the weight to truly go after these people and hates having to pass off the cases when he knows he could do more.

But law school is. . .stressful.

He'd have already started his third year of law if he had just gone straight to law school after undergrad.

Lucas wonders if he's ready to manage that type of stress.

He gets off the plane and has to go directly to the non-profits office. It's a tiny little thing in a rougher part of the city; gone are the shiny sports cars and whole foods.

There's boxes of paperwork dating back from the 60s and he gets to work, drinking the cheap donut shop coffee that the office head, an amicable black man who still has a rhythmic african accent that Lucas isn't worldly enough to place, gives him with a shrug, “got to support our local businesses eh?”

Lucas nods. “Tell me about it. I feel like I missed out on the New York that was happening.” Ava had sent him a buy back the block patch and he really hadn't been surprised because she had always been opinionated and headstrong about it. If she was the town witch, well then she was going to be the biggest baddest witch.

He types a reminder into his notes to get her a souvenir.

He uses yelp to find a cheap diner, where he continues to pour over a thick manila folder--have to break up the work--and finds that he can smell the ocean here even when he can't exactly see it.

Lucas sets a reminder to himself to go enjoy the beach at least once.

Then he sees the reminder to call and ask Stacy where you were living. Lucas half wanted it to be a surprise, but worried he'd miss you.

He knew you liked going out dancing. And he had arrived on a Friday night.

It was unorthodox.

He usually worked strictly in the states since each country had their own laws and environmental precedent established by the courts. And alright, Lucas’ phone had a lot of law school tabs open. He was only twenty four. That wasn't too old for law school.

Weren't some students in legally blonde in their thirties?

Experience could give him an edge.

Lucas calls Stacy but it goes straight to voice mail.

Right, time difference.

He'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Having not exchanged any money as of yet, Lucas pays for his breakfast for dinner with his card and hopes the fee isn't too bad. Then he stuffs the folders and decides to walk to his hotel.

It's an hour long walk through town but years of being incredibly stressed had left him with the purposeful choice of slowing down when he could. Sometimes it felt like forcing himself to slow down, but he always felt better after a walk through a new city or sitting down with a fictional book even when he swore he didn't feel all wound up.

As far as cheap diners, tonight's was good and he had fun trying poutine.

Lucas walks through the tall buildings and wishes he hadn't worn a suit jacket. He should've worn a plain shirt or one of those gag gifts Andy was always sending him from various thrift stores. It might be further up north than even he grew up, but it was still hot in the summer.

Walking an hour in a casual suit was not his greatest idea, but the city carried the same vibrant energy the new york had. The energy that had encouraged Lucas to go to a house party--once.

He's walking by a street full of dive bars all blaring out nostalgic hits from his teenage years from Hannah Montana, which okay, to Kesha which sounded about right, and of course, Blackpink. The chalkboards outside all promise cheap drinks but Lucas isn't a big drinker.

He isn't sure how much of that is avoiding any substance that could get him hooked or if he's making that choice because he really doesn't like alcohol.

Lucas is just about through, about to by a monolithic building that has a bunch of displays in the windows, when he does a double take.

Noah fucking Marshall is smoking on the curb outside a bar, face flushed.

There's no doubt about it. Lucas would know that asshole anywhere. The same sharp jawline and prominent nose, brown hair curling around his ears only a few inches showered than it had in high school. He's wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket over a white shirt and looking way too happy for a murderer.

Noah Marshall wearing aviators at night like the rat bastard he is!

The intense feelings of rage and wanting to hit something until the world righted itself surges in Lucas’ chest until there's a white hot anger in his throat and red clouding his vision.

He blacks out.

One second he's furiously gapping at the man-

the next

-Lucas is standing over Noah Marshall, knuckles on fire having just sucker punched the fucker.

Oh shit.

Noah looks just as surprised for a second as he looks up, blood beading up where his lips split open.

Lucas watches as recognition hits those bambi blue eyes---wait, blue.. .?

And then Noah shrugs, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he states, “yeah. I deserved that.”

There's a couple people looking over.

Lucas is still pissed as Noah gets up, dusting himself off and looking at the barely smoked cigarette on the ground as if he wants to smoke it, before grabbing the glasses and placing them back on instead.

Then, he grabs another cigarette, “want one,” he offers Lucas who no, wouldn't want one: wouldn't want anything from Noah if he was drowning and Noah had the only life jacket.

He was good with drowning.

Thanks.

Lucas, anger still fizzing under his skin like boiling water, asks, “how the fuck are you here!”

Noah shrugs, before slurring and it's then that Lucas realizes the other man is flushed drunk, “I live here,” without an ounce of sarcasm.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lucas says, curling his lip and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh you know me. I'm just plotting world domination and decided Vancouver would be the perfect location for my evil villain lair. I've got a neon sign and everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, grinding his teeth together. “Do you always have to be such an asshole?”

Noah spreads his hands out and proceeds to do jazz hands, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Fuck, Lucas feels like punching him again.

He's really thinking about it as he watches Noah, sure the idiot will try something again, when he hears your voice as you stumble out of the bar, “I knew it! You were going out for a smoke break!”

Noah's entire demeanor shifts, no longer the boy Lucas has built up in his head as the cause of all their problems. Over the years, he's decided that Noah had known from the start. In the depths of his denial, Lucas had told himself that Noah had kidnapped Dan. But, you appear, and Noah's turns bright pink as he hurried to stomp out the cigarette you've already seen like a naughty school boy, even as he turns and smiles as if you hung the sun in the sky and painted the night stars. It's lovesick the way you both look at each other with the fondness of ancient couples out for a walk in the park, lost in their own world.

However the fuck he's alive, Lucas realizes that this Noah, the real living Noah, has been just as freaked as the rest of them. It's something he hasn't thought about in years.

Noah had lost Jane.

It's enough for Lucas to unclench his hands even if he's still seething because what the hell, he still offered them all up on a silver platter. Redfield or Jane--whatever it was in the end--had given Ava powers and she hadn't stabbed your group of friends in the back.

You cross the distance quickly, and throw your arms around his middle, tipsy. That's probably why your smile is so pure-untouched by all the trauma and boring adult problems like remembering to pay the bills and having to call the cable company for the fifth time.

You don't even notice Lucas.

“What happened to your face,” you ask, raising your hand to cup Noah's cheek, frowning.

Noah nods over at Lucas.

You finally notice him.

“Lucas,” you wag your finger at him, still cuddled up to the man in question, “You can't punch Noah. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him back?”

It shouldn't be possible, but Noah turns pinker.

“Aw babe,” Noah teases you with a familiarity that carries depth.

This wasn't a new development then.

“You really do care about me.”

This time, you round on Noah, wagging your finger menacingly, “Don’t be an idiot! Of course I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!”

Which has Lucas majorly side eyeing you.

Sure, Noah had grown up to be tall and not unattractive, as far as pasty white boys were concerned, but he'd still tried to kill everyone.

Noah also looks skeptical.

“What are you doing in town Lucas,” you then ask.

“Work,” Lucas replies blandly, as he tries to come to terms with this reality altering discovery. “You were dead.”

“That's not entirely true,” Noah muses philosophically, “Physically I was dead but technically I was still roaming the woods as a monster.”

Reflexively, you interject, resting your hand on his chest, “you're not a monster.”

“I thought you liked the shape of water.”

Which sends you squealing. “Noah!”

Lucas doesn't get it. You are the strongest person he knows who can talk to anyone and has a sense of determination that rivals a gold medalist: the one who kept everyone together during one of the shiftiest times in his life, and he's who you settle for! “If you have to say technically, you've already lost the argument.”

You snort.

Noah rolls his eyes good naturedly.

“Wait,” you realize, eyes going wide, “does that mean you're younger than me now.”

Noah tilts his head in thought, “physically. . .”

“Pretty sure that means yes,” Lucas adds, wondering how long Noah had been back for.

“Oh my god, I'm stealing from the cradle!”

Noah looks incredibly affronted as he blinks rapid looking down at you like you'd grown a second head.

“You mean cradle robbing?”

“I'm. . .twenty four,” Noah says. Not even he sounds convinced.

“Twenty two,” you correct archly. Then look at Lucas with a friendly smile, “you want to go get pho?”

“Right now!” Lucas checks his watch. It was already midnight. He should've been at his hotel room sleeping by now.

You nod.

Noah elaborates, “it's pricey but the broth hits different. They have some pretty good view of the city too.”

Two years. Noah had been back for two years and you never said anything.

Lucas can put up with Noah for a few hours to spend time with you. After all, you were the one who was putting up with him for life apparently.

“Should we let-,” you begging to ask, amusement dancing in your eyes, city lights reflected in the dark brown hue that had a quality of depth that made it easy to open up to you.

“Nah,” Noah smirks, “Sheer chatted some dude up, they won't even realize-”

“Rahul will though.”

“Psst, it's fine.”

You've both built a life here, far removed from any traces of Westchester. Maybe that's where he had gone wrong. Lucas had been so desperate to escape he's never found a place of his own, and still haunted by his one and only home: a place he wants nothing to do with. He needed to make a new home.

Law school wasn't sounding too shabby.

Noah leads the way.

A lightbulb turns on.

“What's with your eyes?” Lucas asks.

Noah chuckles, “sometimes you fall into a vat of radioactive waste because that's just the type of luck you have.”

You shake your head, amused. “Side effect. It's nothing serious. We checked.”

That doesn't comfort Lucas at all.

He wonders if Connor or Tom could fix that just to be sure Noah wouldn't suddenly go Redfield on you while you were sleeping.

Ugh, that was one mental image he didn't need.

“So what terrible horrifying government secret are you here investigating and does it have to do with a company hiding vats of radioactive waste,” you ask.

Lucas takes the bait.

He could and has talked people's ears off about the loose regulations on place on waste disposal among an array of industries.

Andy, Dan, Tom

This all starts with two things as far as Tom is concerned. First, they've all been talking for ages about doing a guys road trip after everyone still around Westchester had driven down to visit Ava. Not that the girls weren't fun, Tom thought to himself, but it just sounded nice.

He never had a sleepover growing up so this would make up for that. At least that was the idea.

Then Lucas called Andy freaking out about Noah Marshall and Connor could only nod and go, “yeah he was with them about a year. . almost two since we visited. I think it's already been two years.”

Which was a total mindfuck because why hadn't he mentioned anything.

Why hadn't Stacy?

Tom’s done some research into necromancy and it never ends well which is why they pile into Dan’s prius and hit the road to Vancouver Canada. Sans Connor because Vy is pregnant and Connor is glued to her side. “I think they were dating,” he also adds, bookmarking some cases around New Orleans that scream supernatural activity. That throws everyone for another mind loop as he clues the Pine Springs gang who wasn't there that senior year, why Noah Marshall shouldn't be alive, much less freely walking around. The only person who takes the news relatively well is Dan, who scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “that makes sense,” he nods to himself.

Andy rounds on him, ready to kick Noah's ass on sight which Tom will totally back him up on. Tom still can't handle spiders for which Danni and Jocelyn continue to tease him about.

“How in the fuck does that make sense,” Andy seeths, “that motherfucker landed you in a coma! I broke my leg and had to repeat senior year!”

Dan adds, “well you know, they spoke about how tragic his death was. And they used to have nightmares of him dying-”

They all turn to look at Dan.

“What,” Andy says, “when did they tell you that?”

Dan shrugs, “well they were always coming over that year and making a point to spend time with everyone but I always thought they looked sad and thinking about them alone on the edge of town,” he trails off. He’d never brought up your parents absence, but it was clearly felt. “So I went over to theirs when I could,” Dan finishes.

Andy shakes his head, “no. I don’t know what or how, but people don’t just come back from the dead and everything's sunshine and roses,” he crosses his arms against his chest and fumes across the entire state of New York.

Tom has to agree with Andy. There’s nothing in their research to suggest that people can just come back okay. Everything taken by the power ended up twisted into a funhouse version; it never ended well.

They stretch their legs in Cleveland, Andy still scowling. Every now and then he’ll rant about how Noah has to be up to something and he has to go save you from dying. Tom doesn’t bring it up, prefering to let Andy work through it now and wrap his head around Noah Marshall being alive on the car ride up to Canada, but Connor had said Noah’s been back for at least two years--wouldn’t he already have done something? He thinks of you and how you had been alone with Noah at the end. Maybe you had kept some things to yourself.

It was hard to relive trauma aloud.

It made it more real.

Tom sends Imogen a few snaps in Toledo as Andy blasts The White Stripes, to fit his mood.

He wishes Parker had been able to get the days off. Having someone at a distance from the situation might help everyone keep their cool. He knows he won’t stop Andy from beating Noah’s ass.

Dan picks up postcards in Chicago for everyone, as they sit by the famous Bean eating pizza.

“I can’t tell if this is better or if I’m fucking starving,” Andy admits, on his third slice.

Dan snorts, looking up from his lap where he’s writing out the postcards, wanting to send them quickly, “so they make it back before we do.”

Tom takes a walk around the plaza, thinking that fall really was the best weather, cold enough for a sweater without being too freezing and the sun didn’t burn.

They don’t stop in Wisconsin or Minnesota except for gas and Mcdonalds.

Andy sleeps as Tom takes over the driving.

Dan’ll be up next.

“Please play something other than Beach House,” Tom complains at Dan, “this is going to make me fall asleep.”

Dan chuckles, “Its good night driving music.”

“No Dan,” Tom shakes his head with a smile

The sun rises, and Tom gets to sleep.

He wakes up in Rapid City, South Dakota and they have to recreate that awful Hilary Clinton, “just chilling in Rapid City,” Andy says mockingly.

Dan almost chokes on his coffee.

Montana is so fucking beautiful and Tom’s seized with the sudden urge to come live out here. “We could totally do it,” he tells the other men, “it’s cheap out here. We could buy a huge piece of land and never have to deal with any bullshit again. Our friend group could do it. Danni’s really handy and Lily could set us up with wifi!”

“Bro,” Andy says gravely, “you know I love you, but I’m not moving to Montana with you.”

Dam smiles softly, “Danni would have a field day taking pictures here.”

Montana is beautiful and green and none of the nature here has that heavy feeling the woods in Westchester do, but they’re tired and exhausted from being on the road for the last two days. They crash at a motel 8 and sleep for the next twelve hours.

They ask this beautiful woman who's wearing birks and has a tote bag emblazoned “love your mother” with a planet earth painted on, to take a picture of them in front of Pike Place Market. Dan has her number before Tom’s done sending the pictures to his Pine Springs groupchat, teasing Parker about having stayed behind to yell at teenagers smoking weed while driving boats around the lake: accidents waiting to happen.

Tom has never been to Seattle.

He knows most of his friends from Westchester have to visit you or Ava, and he's grown close to Ava, but at the time he was more of a friend of a friend and so never flew up to Seattle.

“Is it lame I'm still tired,” Andy asks, as they find a park to sit down at. It felt so good to be able to lay in the grass instead of sitting cramped up in the car.

“Age is starting to hit us.” Dan muses. “Either of you want to come get some things with me.”

His friend snorts, “Haven't you gotten enough gifts for everyone?” Which, yeah, Dan has been accumulating a small horde of souvenirs in the back for all his friends. He's a thoughtful guy. Tom’s not surprised the man’s a nurse. If he'd had Dan as a nurse when he was a kid, he might not completely hated going to the doctors office.

“I was kinda thinking about getting something from every state,” Dan says, blushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I think it's sweet,” Tom says, clasping a hand on the other man's back. “Cheesy, but sweet.”

Andy shakes his head, “we should've gotten there by now. If only we hadn't stopped in Montana-”

“Noah's not going anywhere,” Dan points out, “you can kick his ass tonight or tomorrow.”

“They know we’re coming,” Andy scowls, “He could be halfway around the world by now.”

“Just remember Lucas already sucker punched him,” Tom offers his friend as consolation.

Dan shakes his head a little, but stays silent. Tom hasn't been able to get Dan’s feelings on the whole situation. He can’t imagine him being completely ambivalent or cool with Noah getting off scot free, but then again, Tom doesn’t know every little detail.

No one talks about it in detail even in their little power club that Connor and him started up.

He gets it.

It’s not something anyone wants to linger on.

And he understands better than most.

His monster was different, but no less horrifying.

“I’ll go with you,” Tom offers Dan, because this is a new city and even though the point is to go see what's up with Noah, and make sure he isn’t still the shadow monster he was the last time Tom saw him, he still wants to make the most of it.

“Two hours,” Andy says with a warning. “Two hours or I leave you in Seattle.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom shakes his head. Andy would never do them like that.

“If you’re coming we should go to the space needle,” Dan says thoughtfully, taking out his phone to begin google mapping the places he wants to hit up.

“Two hours!” Andy calls back from where he’s watching a couple people play basketball.

Tom discovers he has a thing about heights as they ascend via an elevator. It’s a slow day and the elevator operator talks him through it, telling him all sorts of bad puns and more information about the space needle then he can remember. “Sarah Palin came by the other day,” the woman who looks to be about their age with green ringlets and a friendly smile that doesn’t seem to be forced like most customer service workers smile (smile through the pain), “and she said she could see Alaska from here! Get it?”

Tom tries to smile, but yeah, he’s never doing this again. “Did you see the masked singer with Sarah Palin?”

The girl nods, “how the mighty have fallen. You think there's an alternate universe where she was vice president and insead Joe Biden’s on Dancing with the Stars?”

Tom’s laugh dies in his throat as the elevator jolts to a stop. It certainly feels like a huge jolt, but that may be his anxiety making everything elven times worse.

“Well thank you for riding air force two,” she salutes as Tom finally steps into the platform.

Sweet, sweet relief.

He sort of has to go take a picture or two off the viewing platform. He’s made it this far.

“She was totally into you,” Dan says, stepping in to take Tom’s mind off things.

“Was not.”

“Totally was.”

Tom rolls his eyes, “she was just being nice.”

“Sure man, sure. But she was.”

They arrive even later than Andy had predicted. It’s midnight and proof that they had dallied in Seattle for two long. This is the first time Dan has ever left the country so of course they stop and take pictures.

And then they stop and eat at the cute little cabin lodge just off the highway.

And even Andy forgets about the Noah business.

They pull into the street, disappearing from the city in the turn onto the street. It’s crazy how much of a difference a street can make. A little quiet row of houses tucked under the twinkling lights of the city lights.

Your house is a small one story thing, clearly an older home from before cookie cutter houses came into fashion, and with a certain amount of charm even with the dead plant by the doorstep: closer to a cottage than a house like something out of Snow White. There’s even a ouija board doormat that Tom thinks is completely in line with your humor and probably Noah’s as well. He just doesn’t remember much about Noah when he was alive. Last time Tom saw Noah, Noah was saying sorry to the birds. People could change.

Right?

It’s not like Noah had gone all Zodiac Killer on his friends.

The lights are off and Tom feels kind of bad that he’s about to wake you up, but he also really wants to crash in an actual bed.

Dan knocks on your door as Andy paces behind Tom.

A minute later, you peak your head out the door. Your navy blue sweater is cuffed around your hands, clearly meant for someone taller, helping to stave off the autumn chill, and grey flannel pajama pants. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand as you yawn. “You’re here,” you smile and hug Dan with one arm, “do you need any help with the bags.”

“The bags can wait until tomorrow,” Dan answers for the group, “I just want to sleep in a real bed.”

You snort, “don’t actually have a guest room,” you admit, keeping your voice down as you usher them all inside, “but I do have a pretty comfortable pull out couch and way too many quilts. I have to stop going to Victoria Island.”

Andy looks around, tense.

Tom’s a little surprised when you hug him too. “Want any food? There’s a ton of leftovers. Noah’s been stress baking. He has a bunch of exams this week.,” you say with such casualness.

“We already ate,” Dan offers, “there was this cool looking log cabin that sold me on pumpkin spice muffins.”

“Where is Noah,” Andy asks, cutting right to the quick.

You look at him pointedly as you explain, “he went to sleep early. He’s got school at like 7 am. I have no clue why. . .college was all about afternoon classes for me.”

Andy wisely, let’s it go for the moment.

You show them where things are, the couch is already extended. The TV’s sitting on a pile of textbooks with a nintendo switch right next to it.

Tom is out before his head hits the pillow.

They wake up and eat the promised leftovers as you rush to find the spare key to leave with your friends before you too have to go to work. “I would've asked for the day off like I did for the rest of the week,” you hastily explain, filling the electric kettle with water, “but it was Maureen’s birthday and I would’ve felt like such a dickhead.”

You make Dan promise to come look through the Museum you work at before it closes, and then you’re running off with a tumbler full of tea, putting a hand through your hair as if that’ll save it from looking like a mess. Tom’s unsurprised at your easy nature when they’re all imposing, making no secret of the real reason they had driven all the way to the other coast of North America.

Andy conducts a walkthrough of the house, leaving the sole bedroom of the house alone.

Dan shakes his head, flipping through the TV channels, before logging onto your netflix account, the most recent show having been played was Avatar the Last Airbender. “Anything you want to watch?”

“The good place,” Tom offers, “everyone’s always saying it's good.”

Dan shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have netflix.”

Andy comes back with a picture frame clutched in his hand, “He’s such a dick!” Red seeping into his neck as he fumes.

Tom looks over at the picture, but it’s just a photo any normal couple would have hanging around their house: a blurry polaroid of you and Noah, each with a red solo cup at some house party, with the date, over a year ago, written on the border. He gets it, he does. And Andy’s his friend, so he nods.

Dan on the other hand, “okay. . .”

Andy disappears back down the hall. “I just don’t understand how they kept this from us! I mean-after what he did!”

Tom nods the same way he always had when his dad would start lecturing him in japanese even though his japanese is limited to whatever the japanese equivalent of Dora the explorer teaching spanish is.

“Probably so we wouldn’t freak out,” Dan offers, not looking away from the screen.

Andy marches back into the living room with a deep set frown, “Noah was fine offering us up to that monster and now they’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.” He sits down next to Tom, head in his hand. “I just don’t get it.”

He clasps a hand on Andy’s shoulder in comfort.

“Maybe they just wanted to forget as much as we did,” Dan notes quietly. “Some of us left and never really went back.” He’s talking about Lily and Lucas, who only visits during the holidays, then there’s Ava out in Arizona, busy doing field research and only going to Westchester in between jobs. Dan’s an hour away, a world away, near Stacy.

It’s really just Andy and Connor who stayed.

He’s in Pine Springs, a good hour to the west of Westchester.

“He died,” Andy grumbles out, “it could’ve easily been them, or any of us, or all of us. We’re lucky no one else did.”

Dan frowns, looking over at Andy, “I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m not jazzed that Noah’s been back for years and we just found out. But I trust their judgement.”

“Necromancy is serious business,” Tom says, breaking the staring contest that’s started between the two friends.

Noah’s at least a little bit of a coward, as he saunters up to them, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.

You had said this diner had the best malai kofta in the neighborhood.

He’s resting expression is still skewed towards sour, even as there’s other noticeable changes from the Noah Tom remember’s who’d kept to himself in school. His hair cut into a flattering undercut, clothes no longer on the angsty scruffy side but still decidedly casual as he opts for a dark palette, and of course, the blue eyes that seem to glow even in the afternoon light Lucas had mentioned in great detail. Noah’s clean shaven and lean, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

He only spares Tom a second’s glance before he focuses in on you, his lips quirk-ing up in a small smile. Sitting down, you lean forward expectantly as he plants a kiss on your cheek by way of greeting, before saying, “C’s make degrees right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “but you did fine so it doesn’t matter. I ordered you the chicken and waffles. That’s what you usually get right?”

“Actually,” Noah starts, clearly about to tease you.

You shove his shoulder lightly, “beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dan extends an olive branch, “hey Noah.”

Which Andy immediately shoots down, “so it’s true.”

Tom’s only glad they’re already sitting and yeah, Noah’s a coward for meeting them in public, not that it had stopped Lucas from sucker punching him. It probably won’t stop Andy, only he’s sandwiched in between Dan and Tom and there’s no way Dan is getting up and out just so Andy can punch Noah. That’s not the kind of friend Dan is. Dan’ll take someone away to cool off, sprouting lines about being the bigger person, but Tom thinks that sometimes a punch is well earned.

Noah nods, sobering up, rating his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s still. . . it’s still a trip nearly four years later.”

You cover his hand with yours, giving Noah’s hand a squeeze.

Now that they’re here with Noah, a burst of curiosity that’s been brewing in the back of Tom’s mind finally surges forward. “Do your eyes always glow? Or is it light a cat’s iridescence and that’s why you can read in the dark?”

“Gee, let me give you the paperwork the doctor diagnosed me with after I explained that my sister became a shadow monster and I came back to life. He was super nice and helpful about everything. We really don’t pay doctors enough.”

Andy rolls his eyes, “So are you still a monster or not.”

Noah frowns, before leading forward, gripping a glass of ice in hand pointedly, lifting it off the table, watching his own action with a sad fascination, “you can’t begin to imagine how nice it is to be solid again--to be more than a lingering ghost who can barely remember who it used to be.”

Which doesn’t answer the question but--

Some monsters were all too human for comfort. And some monstrous beings ended up friends and allies back in Pine Springs.

You and Dan walk up ahead arm in arm, chatting about everything from how cozy ll bean’s wool socks were to how you wanted to branch out and leave your job but it just couldn't be a bank, working in a cubical all day seemed like a death sentence. Dan fills you in on the news from back home and you both catch up as you walk at a leisurely pace back to your home.

Somehow, Noah manages to be patient as Tom rattles off question after question.

“Do you remember much?”

“What was it like coming back?”

“Can you do any magic thought,” he purses his lips in thought, “that doesn’t tell us much, since Ava’s out there levitating feathers.”

“Are any of your other senses better?”

“Do you have any other changes after coming back?”

“Can you speak to animals now?”

“Do you ever get a craving for human flesh?”

“Your limbs don’t fall off or anything? Right?”

“You have all your memories back?”

“Do you ever see any ghosts?”

“Can you see ghosts?”

Noah answers them patiently, if amused, as Andy skulks behind, clearly listening in on the conversation.

“How did they bring you back,” Tom finally asks, having spent countless nights researching necromancy. It had crept up in the Pine Spring’s society books, journals detail all sort of gorey accounts of their attempts to harness the power to gain power over the dead and living, but none of it had ever amounted to anything. At least in the best case.

One member had rotted away from the inside out, black mold blooming in his lungs, incurable as he choked to death after trying to raise a simple cat from the dead.

Noah tenses up, glancing over to where you’re laughing as Dan does a spot on Bernie impression about how it’s time to once again, “ask for a The man from U.N.C.L.E. sequel,” before meeting Tom’s gaze again. “You’ve formed a little club to keep the power away from people right?”

He nods, “I just-I don’t want more people to go through what we have,” he explains. They had to be proactive and learn so that no one else would stumble upon the power and exploit it to violent ends. Ava’s magic wasn’t derived from the power. Tom had double checked that. Ava’s magic was her own through her own sheer will.

But the power-that was something else entirely.

He swallows thickly.

Nothing had happened so far. And he couldn’t tell if their plan was working, or if they had gotten lucky. It had been a handful of years. But then, a decade had passed between Jane Marshall’s death and her awakening.

“And no one else ever will,” Noah says forlornly.

“Explain,” Andy says, walking up on Noah’s other side.

The man looks up at you, as you and Dan wait by the street corner for the rest of the group to catch up, and he shakes his head. “All you need to know is the power won’t be a problem again.”

Tom runs the problem over and over in his mind as they explore Vancouver and Andy continues to get digs in at Noah while Noah lets him.

He thinks about it as Andy makes everyone watch #Alive. And then Dan reminds them how obsessed everyone was with Inception when it came out. And Tom thinks about Noah’s words. And then you suggest watching something lighter: Zoolander.

Tom plays Noah’s words over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Andy’s snores.

He puzzles over what Noah meant, why he didn’t want to bother you with it, as he drives back across the continent.

The power takes.

The power gives.

He gets it as they stop for gas in New York.

Oh, you really must love him.

Ava

Ava walks into Tom’s house out in Pine springs. It’s summer and she’s ready to spend the entire week swimming and continuing the search for a black lipstick that won’t stain. Fenty came pretty close.

There’s tons of cars in the driveway and she knows she’s the last one to get there; she always did like an entrance.

She tries the doorknob before knocking, hearing the laughter and conversation carry outside. The house is unlocked so she lets herself in; she likes to make entrances, guilty as charged, before following the sound of voices into the back porch overlooking the lake.

Tom had lucked out in buying this place during the summer the lady of the lake terrorized the town.

She’s frozen in shock when she sees Noah sitting with everyone like he hasn't been dead for over eight years. He’s sitting with an arm around you, beer in his other hand, talking with Lily, in a faded AC/DC shirt and dark jeans despite the heat.

Ava pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

“Ava,” Lily cries, spotting her, “you’re here.”

“What the fuck!”

Realization dawns on your face as Noah looks over at the resident goth chick who’s withered into a refined goth woman, less fishnet and more victorian mourning shirts paired with flared black and white leggings, for the first time in eight years and seven months.

“Hey Ava,” he says, lifting his hand up in greeting from where it’s resting on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, as you look at Ava, realizing you’d never gotten around to telling her. Not when you’d visited her for Thanksgiving even though she refused to participate in a propaganda holiday that “perpetuates colonialism” or the time last year when you’d gone to support her big lecture at UMississipi. It had never seemed the right time and now the time to calmly explain was gone.

“Someone explain before I light him on fire,” Ava utters, feeling heat grow in her fingertips. It was easy after years of practice. She was toying with the idea of buying a house in Salem.

Noah doesn’t even flinch.

How could he, having grown up with Jane for a sister that had gone around filling people shoes with mud and shoving people into pools with a laugh. That girl had been fearless, and Ava has long thought if she’d been an inch more scared, you and Jane never would have gone into those ruins.

It almost warms Ava’s cold dead heart.

Ha.

If Ava had sometimes been the third wheel with you and Jane, then Noah had been the ugly duckling waiting for a scrap of attention because Jane shone bright, a sunflower soaking up light, thriving on attention. Maybe Noah hadn’t been all that bothered to let his sister take the lead as kids, even as he grumbled about the trouble they were sure to get into, but neither Marshall twin had cared about anyone’s attention more than yours.

Jane had always been a limpet, her hand in yours.

Ava had been too independent even at nine to always go along with Jane, or want a friend that close.

But you didn’t just go along with Jane, you encouraged her, and dragged Noah along when Jane got too caught up in her made up games to remember to play nice. Noah who even at nine seemed clued into the fact that you were hurt that your parents were never around, something that never occurred to Jane.

So she’s not surprised that Noah and you are a thing.

Figures.

You’d kissed more than one white boy that could vaguely pass for Noah if you had enough to drink in college even if you had only dated twice and neither had been Noah Marshall knockoffs.

It’s glaringly obvious in hindsight.

What she doesn’t get is how he’s alive.

And everyone’s just cool with it.

“I thought you already knew,” Dan says.

Lily looks at you, “didn’t you tell Ava first?”

You raise a brow, “I thought Lucas told everyone?”

Lucas shrugs, wearing a suit in the summer, “I did. I just figured Ava already knew”

Stacy sips her cocktail, “awkward.”

“Wow,” Noah jokes with a grin, “you guys are terrible friends.”

Andy almost chokes on his beer, sending Noah a look that would’ve made Medusa jealous.

Danni shakes her head, “too soon dude, too soon.”

Maybe she should move into Cora’s old house. That way she could keep up with her friends' news.

How the hell did she miss Noah coming back to life.

That was metal as fuck.

She and you would have words about keeping secrets.

“Just give me the strongest drink you can make,” she says with a shake of her head, taking a seat next to Imogen, the resident mixologist.

#noah marshall #ilitw noah #noah x mc #maybe theres two left #reposting bc it didnt show up in the tags #lily's part was my favorite #toeing the line between making noah a sarcastic shit and a traumatized man and a soft boy in love #mine

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catclient44 · 3 years

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Personal & Small Group Tours To Russia

If you want Faberge eggs, well you're in luck as a result of this armory is supplied with the most important assortment of Faberge eggs, as properly as crowns, carriages, and tsars' royal vestments. Translating on to "power" or "fortified city", the Kremlin is synonymous with Russia's authorities in the same way because the White House is to the USA. There are literally over 20 Kremlins in Russia, however the most famous is of the one in Moscow. The advanced has an intricate system of palaces and cathedrals and is walled in. Aside from the chilly, the days are also shorter, lasting just a few hours. We stayed at an Airbnb in St. Petersburg, in a wonderful location very close to town center. A star shaped fortress, a storybook town square and a subway maze with unimaginable structure. When you tour Russia with Trafalgar, you will uncover a rustic both beautiful and complicated. The common high within the Summer is 84F with common lows of 62F. Greatest Souvenirs To Buy In Russia However, the smaller ones will retail for round 800 – 1,200 rubles. I highly advocate purchasing these at Izmailovsky Market, and never in Red Square or on Arbat Street – as they are going to be FAR dearer if purchased in the City Center. Russian bakery products are an irreplaceable part of traditional tea time. Puffs from a particular dough, cookies , and cracknels – all these items are inexpensive, however hearty and tasty. It actually does make an excellent distinction quality-wise if the vodka is made in Russia or whether it is one thing found on a shelve of your local grocery store with a cheesy Gorbatschov label caught on it. True what they are saying about attempting alcohol within the country of its origin being the best expertise. Browse our web site for all kinds of Russian souvenirs, from hand-painted nesting dolls to hand-carved Christmas ornaments. Low costs and a lot to select from for easy presents, stocking-stuffers, or finer examples of artistic creations from one of the best Russian artists. The first lacquer bins appeared in Russia within the 18th century but this art work flourished in the 20th century after the Revolution. Right opposite the doorway facet of Teatralnaya metro station, there are rows of colourful tents promoting every cliché Russian souvenir within the guide. Samovars are sold in craft festivals and flea markets where you have an opportunity to purchase a real antique samovar. Small modern samovar will cost from 4000 rubles, costs for antique could begin from rubles. In Russian retailers yow will discover all in style international manufacturers. Situated on Petrovka Street, this high-end mall could be reached on foot from a lot of the well-liked vacationer points of interest like Red Square and the History Museum. It is home to round 1,000 manufacturers of clothing, footwear, accessories, and cosmetics. Buddhism In Russia There can be a self-service 200 yen for signing, and there is a cute gold fortunate cat in the paper, which is basically lovable. With more than 2000 temples and shrines, this former capital is a gem of conventional Japanese culture. In Kochi, don a helmet and headlamp and explore the cavernous natural marvel generally identified as the Ryugado Cave, a National Natural Monument. Stroll by way of a 17th-century backyard and survey seven-hundred years of historical past at a museum devoted to Satsuma’s Shimazu clan in Kagoshima. The uncommon Hindu shrine is an important temple to Vishnu. By 1917, Joseph Stalin had ensured that no datsans remained open within the country. The USSR sought to remove Buddhism and different religions, as they believed that an absence of faith mixed with urbanization would lead to a rise in manufacturing. In 1929 many monasteries have been closed down and monks had been arrested and exiled. By the Thirties, Buddhists had been suffering more than some other non secular community within the Soviet Union with lamas being expelled and accused of being "Japanese spies" and "the folks's enemies". Markets In Moscow In this point of view, we explore the important alerts of change for global retail. Pick up Drop off – Delivery locker – in style option in Russia the place buyers have parcels delivered to a locker to pick up at their comfort. Russia can additionally be looking to implement a traceability program to ensure goods coming into the country usually are not fake. It will be primarily based on bar code requirement for all merchandise that enter. The Kremlin and Izmailovo Market is a superb place to discover, allow us to guide you via this picturesque place and you'll respect the stories and crafts. For those that need to get antiques from the Soviet era, watch collectors such because the famous RAKETA model of cosmonauts, or purchase spiritual icons, handkerchiefs, famous hand carved matrioshkas or chess. Though it is the largest nation on the earth, one of the defining features of Russian society is the spirit of collectivism. This neighborhood vibe is current via the many vintage and flea markets taking place around the country, and a visit to one of these is to peek via the window and glimpse the local tradition. The lengthy and fascinating historical past of this country additionally means its markets provide up a treasure trove to collectors from all walks of life. From Moscow to Saint Petersburg you will find anything and every thing at flea markets, ranging from Soviet porcelain and old rotary dial phones to 1980 Olympics memorabilia, samovars, and jewelry. On the other hand, there a few markets that sport very low valuations. These are mainly both commodity producers or markets which have been through powerful economic/political cycles . By year-end 2019, telecom/utility stocks and commodities had been all deeply out of favor. The high-flying markets of the earlier decade (eg. Brazil) suffered adverse total stock market returns for the entire interval. The past decade has been all concerning the rise of China and the internet-e.commerce platforms and the chips and storage required to make all of it work. Russian vodka or Crimean wine – it doesn't matter what alcohol you need to buy, you should purchase them solely in licensed stores, both in specialized shops or supermarkets. It just isn't a good idea to purchase alcoholic drinks in markets, because no one might be responsible for their elements and quality, and poisoning with homemade alcohol may be lethal. Russia's Youth And Its Culture His music remains to be well-liked for new generations of musicians, and you may hear it performed in the streets of a Russian city. “Flight of the Bumblebee” has been organized for a selection of solo instruments to spotlight the virtuosity of a performer. In American popular culture, much of its popularity comes from its unbelievable vitality and technical problem. Ethnic intermarriage became pretty common in Soviet times, and most people have no less than one ancestor of a unique nationality. Russian culture has an extended and wealthy cultural historical past, steeped in literature, ballet, painting and classical music. While outsiders may even see the nation as drab, Russia has a very visible cultural previous, from its colorful folks costumes to its ornate religious symbols. Until the 18th-century, music in Russia consisted mainly of church music and people songs and dances. In the 19th-century, it was defined by the tension between classical composer Mikhail Glinka along with different members of The Mighty Handful, and the Russian Musical Society led by composers Anton and Nikolay Rubinstein. The later custom of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, one of many biggest composers of the Romantic period, was continued into the 20th century by Sergei Rachmaninoff, one of the final nice champions of the Romantic fashion of European classical music. Initially, Narkompros , which was additionally in control of the arts, supported Proletkult. Although Marxist in character, the Proletkult gained the disfavor of many party leaders, and by 1922 it had declined significantly. De facto restrictions on what artists could paint had been abandoned by the late Nineteen Eighties. A set of Matryoshka dolls include a wooden determine which may be pulled aside to disclose another determine of the same sort but somewhat smaller inside. The shape is mostly cylindrical, rounded at the top for the top and tapered in direction of the underside, but little else. 10 Greatest Central Moscow Parks To Escape The Summer Time Warmth The different facet of the principle pond is equipped with a slide, horizontal bars, ropes and other exercise tools. In some parks , we found that plant communities are dominated by oak and different broadleaf timber within the tree layer and Filipendula ulmaria on the ground. This mixture is typical of artificially created park communities in moist St. Petersburg conditions and has no analog in the native vegetation. The Summer Garden was not solely dear to the Tsar and the garden’s designers, but it was also notable inside Russian literary works of the Romantic era. Centrally located steps from St. Basil’s Cathedral, Red Square and the Kremlin, Zaryadye Park sits on a traditionally charged web site saturated by Russia’s collective previous and evolving aspirations. As a historic palimpsest, the 35-acre site has been populated by a Jewish enclave in the 1800’s, the foundations of a cancelled Stalinist skyscraper, and the Hotel Rossiya—the largest resort in Europe until its demolition in 2007. For 5 years, this central piece of Moscow actual estate—encompassing a quarter of downtown Moscow— remained fenced as plans to increase its use as a business middle by Norman Foster were underway. In 2012, the City of Moscow and Chief Architect Sergey Kuznetsov organized a design competitors to remodel this traditionally privatized, business territory into a public park. An worldwide design consortium led by Diller Scofidio + Renfro (DS+R) with Hargreaves Associates and Citymakers was chosen out of ninety submissions representing 27 completely different nations. The abundance of Filipendula ulmaria in plenty of suburban parks signifies surplus humidity and dysfunction of the drainage system. In time, native timber tolerant of this specific hydrological regime, similar to alders and willows, will more than likely exchange the broadleaf bushes. In all suburban historic parks, the spring flora was represented by a wide spectrum of early-spring native species such as Ficaria verna, Gagea lutea, Gagea minima, Anemonoides nemorosa, Anemonoides ranunculoides, and Corydalis solida. In the gardens at the heart of St. Petersburg, profuse blooming of Gagea lutea, Gagea minima, and Facaria verna (greater than 70% groundcover) was observed only in the plant communities of the Summer Garden . Hepatica nobilis was discovered only in Gatchina and in Pavlovsky Park, and Viola odorata and Primula elatior was discovered only in Dvortsovy Park and Zverinets in Gatchina. Russia 2021 Many individuals who need to take a Russia vacation want to avoid all of the planning and logistics concerned in a giant week or two week overseas trip abroad and want to save money by doing it all in a package instead of piecing things together at full value. 跳蚤 is led by a tour director who will take care of all of the providers from starting to the tip of your vacation. Your tour director connects you with local tour guides who will have lots of information on the particular cities you discover. Typically, hotels, transportation throughout your trip, some meals and sightseeing are arranged and included with the price of yourRussia tour. Maximize your time in the remarkable Russian metropolis of St. Petersburg on a complete 2-day shore tour to major sights and historic landmarks. Gain priceless perception into the wealthy historical past of the city and journey by luxury, air-conditioned car during your tour. Do you know the place the most important number of lively volcanoes in Russia is? These are known as the White Lights, when daylight lasts practically the complete day and the solar by no means fully sets. These long hours of daylight lend themselves properly to full days of tourism and pleasure all through the town. St. Petersburg is home to all kinds of world-famous art and architecture. The Pushkin and Catherine Palace Amber Room is a historic work of architecture; the encircling gardens are also unique. Peterhof, the Grand Summer Palace by the shore, is an attractive location with uncommon fountains and a unique magnificence. For one of the diverse collections of artwork in the world, the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg offers visitors a look at both world and Russian artwork. The hotels have been both very good, and the whole organisation of the trip is to be applauded. Designed for tourists interested in old Russian church buildings, Russian art or any other particular interest among the many limitless points of interest Russia has to supply. The introduction of a model new prepare, the “Grand Express”, on the Moscow-St. Petersburg line is altering current assumptions about comfortable rail journey which is comparable in commonplace to that of a good lodge. [newline]Indeed, the “Grand Express” is an actual hotel on wheels that options spacious sleeping compartments with bathrooms, showers, air-conditioning, wide sofas, LCD TV, DVD-players and WI-FI. “Grand Express” prepare additionally has standard 9 compartments carriages of 1st and 2nd class.More particulars. On our website you'll be able to create your own tour or select one from acomprehensive vary of Russia excursions and vacation travel packagesaround Russia and CIS countries to fit every want and finances. Whether you're traveling in a gaggle or independently, in search of a customized journey or a particular weekend tour package, we will always present the perfect answer for you. Just pick the tour you are most thinking about and continue with reservation. Finally, a smaller group could be extra flexible; we had some further time and the guide offered to take us on a quick visit to St. Petersburg's synagogue, not on our unique agenda. The 10 Finest Restaurants In Moscow The quality of meals is very high and different cuisines are served to the folks. The wine and the cuisine served are of nice high quality and style. The staff is extremely qualified, and this place is the one which you shouldn’t miss in Moscow. The place may be very elegant, and the center of attraction is a rotunda which dominates the 2 floors in the restaurant. If you're the one who loves royal things, royal locations and royal experience, then this place is a perfect fit for you. This café has a splendid atmosphere, and it serves the shoppers with Russian delicacies in an aristocratic mansion which was built within the nineteenth century. The workers right here is professional, and the chefs are skilled in making an ideal dish. Traditional Russian food like borsch, pirogi, and pelemeni is served right here in traditional style. As you presumably can guess from the name, Buono focuses on traditional Italian cuisine. The interior is also impressed by the Italian Imperial style. And it definitely serves probably the greatest Italian dishes in Moscow as the chef Christian Lorenzini is an Italian himself. As well as Sixty It belongs to the Ginza Group which is a high quality mark for many Russians. In Moscow, imperial-era cafes on prime real estate and food-media-famous chefs may distract the many traveling meals hunters, but modern Russian delicacies is a broad church, and in Moscow, this can be a significantly good time to worship. In the seek for the shiny, progressive dishes, nevertheless, don’t miss the thrill of fast-food comforts or the treasures of long-held favorites such because the cuisine of Russia’s southern neighbor Georgia. With Moscow’s newfound confidence in its culinary bounty and local components and a bewildering number of classic and bleeding-edge choices, it could be hard to know the place to start or end. Here’s a day’s price of eating through central Moscow that showcases the city’s exuberant variety, masking excessive, low, old, new, weird, nostalgic, fast, and cheap—but at all times good. Headed by Michelin star-winning chef Anatoly Komm and in-built veneration of the artwork of molecular gastronomy, Varvary truly presents a dining experience like no different. She recommends a crème brûlée cone, which does not disappoint. Red carnations — a historic image of the Russian proletariat — adorn every table beneath dramatic crimson chandeliers. Waitresses wearing freshly starched maids uniforms full with crochet-trimmed aprons and fairly white bonnets, put on thick smears of purple lipstick on stern expressions. Greatest Out Of Doors Actions In Moscow Take a have a glance at evaluations from former guests that can assist you determine whether the tour is for you -- and whether or not the tempo and tour type is appealing. Moscow is a good metropolis the place folks love to dine out, and there are countless options for scrumptious food. The flavors are as numerous as you’d expect from an enormous metropolis, with options of fantastic dining and little hipster eateries. Although this is a little outside the city centre, the sight from above is greater than value it, with the nearby fountains and park after which the whole of the town behind them. There are two ponds, and in the course of the summer season there are multiple activities out there. While Russia is infinitely safer than it was through the 90s, you must nonetheless remain vigilant. The best part about this lake is that even after hikers have explored this area for days, there's always something extra to find. If diving isn't something you enjoy, there are lots of other actions such as rowing, hiking or a walk through the caves. There is no special permission required to climb this mountain and you can do it by your self only in case you are a talented hiker. Alternatively, you'll be able to discover this place with a group of people to add to the fun and pleasure. We’ve put collectively some of the best destinations providing nice adventure actions. If you like being outdoor, you are positive to get pleasure from a few of these places listed beneath. When folks think of Russia they think of snow, however hearth is as plentiful as ice in Russia’s most remote jap area; Kamchatka. The austere monument was inbuilt 1970 to rejoice the anniversary of Lenin’s start. Towering greater than 25 feet over the principle city sq., the Lenin head weighs in at forty two tons. Russian And Worldwide Festival During this day, the Russians rejoice the New Year's entry on the date of the old Russian calendar, which was followed till 1918, at which time the Soviets changed the Julian calendar to the Gregorian. Since then, most of the country's festivals are celebrated twice, according to the present and the old calendar. The showcase takes place on Wednesday 20 October, Thursday 21 October and Friday 22 October. As a part of Pushkin House Book Prize 2021, we're delighted to welcome Archie Brown to discuss his shortlisted book The Human Factor. Archie will be in conversation with Sam Greene, professor in Russian politics and director of the Russia Institute at King’s College London. The discussion might be in entrance of a stay viewers at Pushkin House, in addition to to those who wish to join on-line. As a half of Pushkin House Book Prize 2021, we're delighted to welcome Catherine Belton to communicate about her shortlisted e-book Putin’s People. Victory Day (День Победы Den Pobedy) is by far one of the greatest Russian holidays. It commemorates those that died in World War II and pays tribute to survivors and veterans. Flowers and wreaths are laid on wartime graves and special parties and concert events are organized for veterans. A big floor and air navy parade, hosted by the President of the Russian Federation, is annually organized in Moscow on Red Square. Similar ground, air and marine parades are organized in several other Russian cities . The holiday was established in 1918 as it is linked to the decree printed that day by the Council of People's Commissars that formalized the official elevating of the Red Army. Christmas in Russia (Рождество Христово Rozhdestvo Khristovo) is celebrated on 25 December Julian calendar which falls on January seventh Gregorian calendar and commemorates the start of Jesus Christ. May 1-2, Spring and Labor Day – Coming near Easter, this holiday is commonly celebrated in church. January 1, New Year’s Day – This is often stated to be probably the most beloved vacation. Russians usually have fun it once more on January 14; this date corresponds to New Year’s on the Julian Calendar utilized in Russia prior to 1918. The gift-giving and merriment Americans associate with Christmas are often seen on New Years in Russia. At the end of per week of pancake munching and shapka throwing, Maslenitsa’s grand finale consists of burning down the Chuchilo in an try to symbolize lastly letting go of winter and working towards the idea of forgive and neglect. Soviet monuments and installations are a captivating take a glance at the goals and beliefs of a bygone nation. On the one hand, many of these monuments are in reminiscence of unimaginable achievements, like house exploration, or of tragic events, just like the Battle of Stalingrad. The Most Effective Nightclubs In Moscow The people out at the moment are either consuming or are going to depart early because they aren’t really out for partying. Bar Gipsy positioned at the premises of Krasny Oktyabr manufacturing unit used to be one of hottest night time clubs in Moscow throughout late 2000s. The club used to be co-owned by one of many creators of one other well-known Moscow night time membership referred to as Simachev bar. Chateau de Fantomas is located at the premises of Krasny Oktyabr manufacturing facility across the river from Kropotkinskaya subway station. The club is legendary for its summer season events that take place on the roof of the club’s constructing. As described in one of many magazines Chateau de Fantomas is a non-public night membership that's closed for the general public. One of the commonest travel ideas given to Russian-bound tourists is to not drink the tap water. It's worth remembering except you are thinking about spending a great deal of your journey within the bathroom of your lodge, and even worse, visiting an area hospital for therapy. If so, get away from bed and start planning your night time out with our insider’s information to St Petersburg nightlife. Coco Bar is likely considered one of the extra glamorous spots to party the night away. The place is thought for its pub meals and distinctive choice of local and international ales. Try out a pint of their native stout for 240RUB (USD 3.20) or play it secure with a bottle of Guinness for 550RUB (USD 7.30). Russian ladies may like it when you whisper them anything in Russian. No matter you utter incorrect or missing, you could get a giant smile in return. Making statements primarily based on opinion; again them up with references or private experience. If so, ask for our assist right here and keep away from any frustration or time loss. See our St Petersburg Car Rental service & tour across the city easily & swiftly. Russian Art Gallery In 2005, the query - Who had been the three most proficient twentieth century Russian artists? - was requested of senior members of the Academy of the Arts, the Director of the Surikov Institute, leaders of the Russian Artist Union and different outstanding Russian Realist artists. The idea was that those that were extremely educated in tutorial realism and were the practicing elite had one of the best eyes to know who of their era stood above the others. Recognized for his plein aire landscape paintings, Nikita Fedosov was number two. Today, the top Russian auction houses discuss with this acclaimed artist as "Russian's Legend". Garage is Russia’s first philanthropic establishment devoted to contemporary artwork, based in 2008 by Roman Abramovich and Dasha Zhukova. Located in Gorky Park, the museum showcases creative actions from Russia and all over the world. Visitors can discover 10 innovative exhibitions per 12 months from established and up-and-coming artists; Garage offers funding and studio space to rising artists. Exhibitions are always accompanied by a program of workshops, shows and family events, opening up up to date art to all age teams. Once the tour is over, you may be allowed to stay and browse the museum at your leisure. The State Tretyakov Gallery is an art museum collecting Russian nice art. The massive gallery houses plenty of paintings by way of which you'll higher perceive Russian history and culture. The Lumiere Brothers Centre is called after the French brothers who have been pioneers in the early improvement of pictures and filmmaking. The assortment is devoted to artwork of the Soviet interval, starting from post-revolutionary paintings and graphic works, to the "Severe Style" that was official Soviet artwork of the Stalin-Brezhnev period. Last 12 months, this former flour storage building was transformed right into a museum by British architects, John McAslan + Partners. Hot Springs Around The World With Ker & Downey Bathhouse facilities embody a soaking pool, chilly plunge, sauna, and lounge with add-ons, together with therapeutic massage, yoga, and skincare products. Several packages are available, including monthly unlimited passes and a “Personal Day of Retreat,” which comes with juice, a yoga class, and use of the bathhouse. All purpose to promote self-care and good health by way of variations on soaks, steams, saunas, and community. And perhaps as a end result of the world of late has been, nicely, taxing, we’ve seen these oases spring up within the United States, with offerings as numerous as the nation itself. The 1.5 million gallons of water within the springs accommodates silica minerals in addition to sulfur. These minerals are what attract many individuals affected by psoriasis to hunt the healing properties of Blue Lagoon, as it purportedly reduces their symptoms. The factor to do at Blue Lagoon is to scoop up the silica mud and rub it on your face – prompt exfoliation. Guests can stay in a ryokan 旅館 or opt for a contemporary, Western-style spa resort. The hottest Japanese sizzling springs are usually located within the more mountainous areas of the country, such as Hakone, Gunma, and Hokkaido. The last stop on your Hot Springs Around the World tour is Chile, the place you will spend eight enjoyable nights. The heat comes from a geothermal energy plant, owned by a heating firm that created the lagoon to test heating strategies in the Seventies. When the onsen's water contains distinctive minerals or chemicals, the onsen establishments display what sort of onsen it's. The scorching spring is a spot of tranquility; whereas it's definitely okay to speak amongst yourselves, it isn't meant to be treated like a public pool. While you could be excited to point out off the speedo you got while vacationing within the south of France final summer season, bathing suits are forbidden in the Japanese hot spring. If this seems off-putting, understand that it is the norm right here and most people turn into used to it somewhat rapidly. With so much to offer visitors, it’s no marvel that Glenwood Springs is Colorado’s primary selection for warm springs and wellness. Slated to open this winter, Sōkuin Austin draws from both Japanese and European custom.

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chocolatequeennk · 4 years

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The Full Christmas Experience, 1/3

The Doctor and Rose are on their way back to London to celebrate Christmas with Jackie. But they make a few stops along the way...

Ten x Rose, post Doomsday fixit, telepathic bond

This is part of True Things, and comes after Lesson Learned

This is for @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas. This is for Day 3: Shopping.

AO3 | FF.NET

The Doctor moved slowly around the console, shifting each dial deliberately. Rose rolled her eyes; he was purposely stalling, and they both knew it.

Still… She stuck her tongue out slightly while she thought.

“You know what?” she asked, after making up her mind.

The Doctor looked at her hopefully, his hand stopped in midair halfway to the dematerialisation lever.

“There’s one thing we’ve forgotten—presents!”

He blinked owlishly at her. “Presents?”

Rose bit her cheek to hold back her laughter. “Yeah. I mean, if we’re gonna go to Mum’s for Christmas, we should bring presents, shouldn’t we?”

The Doctor stared at her for a few more seconds, then his face brightened and he spun away from the lever, moving back to the navigation controls.

“Right you are, Rose Tyler! And if we need Christmas presents, there’s really only one place to go: the holiday market on Noel.”

“Noel.”

“Yep!”

“There’s a planet named Christmas?”

“Well yes, but we’re going to Noel. We can visit Christmas next year.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “All right, fine. Tell me more about Noel,” she said.

The Doctor finished setting their new coordinates and then shoved the lever into place. Holiday music started playing as the TARDIS shifted into the Vortex.

“Noel was settled in the 34th century.” He hopped up on the jump seat with Rose and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “A group of human explorers landed on Christmas Day, and for some reason beknownst only to them, they decided to name it after the date.”

“Like Easter Island,” Rose interjected.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Anyway, they didn’t really intend to become a holiday destination, but with a name like that, it’s hard to avoid. Eventually, after two centuries, they quit fighting the inevitable. Now, the entire planet becomes a massive Christmas market during the winter.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Unless their star system is different than ours, the entire planet doesn’t experience winter at the same time,” she pointed out.”

He rolled his eyes. “All right, fine. The main city on the main continent becomes a massive Christmas market during the winter months.” He huffed. “That just doesn’t sound nearly as dramatic.”

Rose laughed, just as the TARDIS wheezed and dropped them onto Noel with a gentle thud. “Come on, I think this is going to plenty impressive, even if it isn’t a planet-wide market.”

She hopped off the seat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. The Doctor darted past her and opened the door for her.

Rose started smiling when she heard the merry strains of Christmas music floating into the console room. She jogged up the ramp and stopped stock still at the door.

The entire city looked like something out of a fairy tale. There were hints of a modern society if you knew where to look—hover carts, etc—but the buildings and the streets looked incredible.

Garland was strung between the buildings on the narrow street. A light dusting of snow covered the cobblestones, and the sun shone down on it, making everything glisten.

A familiar scent teased her nose, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Smells like cinnamon and clove,” she said, without opening her eyes.

“And apple and roasted chestnuts and mulled wine.”

Rose opened her eyes and looked at the Doctor, taking in the broad grin on his face and the way he bounced on his toes. “You think you’re so impressive,” she teased.

The Doctor had to swallow a giggle, he was feeling so giddy. He rocked back on his heels, his hands in his coat pockets. “I mean… I did bring you to the perfect Christmas market,” he said nonchalantly. “I think that’s a little impressive.”

Rose closed the door and walked towards him, her tongue teasing him from behind her teeth. He watched her, holding still as she placed her hands on the lapels of his coat.

“Maybe a little,” she allowed. “So… what’s next, Doctor?”

He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her close. A Christmas kiss, to start the day? he suggested as he bumped his nose against hers. She giggled, and he quickly shifted and pressed his lips to hers.

Rose leaned into him for a moment, but too soon for his taste, she pulled back, ending the kiss. “Come on,” she said. “We can find mistletoe later and continue. Right now I want to find out what smells so good.”

The Doctor took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Excellent idea,” he agreed.

He watched Rose as they walked down the narrow street. She’d been impressed by her first sight of Noel, but she had yet to see the true beauty of the market.

Rose’s eyes widened as they stepped out into the open town plaza. The space was as large as Trafalgar Square, and it was absolutely packed with holiday booths and people doing their holiday shopping.

An enormous tree stood in the centre of the market, its boughs decorated with red garland and gold bows. High on top sat a star that lit up the square every night.

On the town hall stairs, a small group of carollers were singing. Shoppers rushed by, but no matter how hurried they were, every one of them stopped to drop a few coins in the bucket placed on the street in front of them.

“Doctor, this is…” Rose turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in.

The Doctor let her soak it in, then tugged on her hand. “Come on, food is this way.”

They followed their noses and were very soon standing in line at a concessions booth selling pastries.

Soon they were walking away from the stand, pastries in hand. “This is amazing,” Rose said around a mouthful of food. “Is it apple, or something like apple?”

The Doctor took a bite of his own pumpkin scone and hummed before answering. “Close enough to not make a difference,” he answered once he’d swallowed.

While they ate their pastries, they did a full circuit of the market. The Doctor was surprised when Rose grabbed his hand and pulled him in a very determined direction as soon as their pastries were done.

“Come on,” she told him, sensing his confusion. “I saw some places I wanna check out.”

He understood then; Rose had paid attention to the shops and booths as they’d walked and made a mental map of the path she wanted to take.

The market was busy, but Rose wove her way in and out of the crowd, intent on returning to the clothing booth she’d spotted. Several sellers tried to catch her attention, but she didn’t stop.

“I thought we might find something for Mum here,” she told the Doctor when they reached the booth.

The Doctor reached out and touched one of the tops, and nodded approvingly. “Excellent idea.”

“May I ask who you’re buying for?” the vendor asked.

Rose smiled at her. “I need a Christmas present for my mum. Do you have anything that might be especially appropriate for someone living in a city where it rains all the time?”

The seller brightened. “Of course!” She walked straight to a rack of jackets and coats. “These are all 100% waterproof,” she told them.

“Oh!” Rose walked over and looked at the jackets. “They’re pretty, too.”

“Thank you. My family makes them.”

Rose felt the Doctor come up behind her. He reached around her and touched one of the jackets. “Is it rezista?” he asked.

“Yes, it is.” The woman raised an eyebrow. “You’re more familiar with our native fibres than most visitors.”

The Doctor flashed her a winning smile. “Well, when a world has a truly waterproof fabric, that’s pretty appealing to travellers,” he pointed out.

Rose tuned them out for the most part, browsing through the rack of jackets looking for one she thought Jackie would like. There were some that appealed to her, with sleek, slim lines etc etc. But she knew her mum—if she offered anything with a style too different from her own, Jackie would get upset and think she was trying to change her.

When she got to the last item on the rack and still hadn’t found anything she thought Jackie would like, she sighed. The shopkeeper, attuned to the sound of a disappointed customer, turned immediately.

“I have a few other items that I haven’t put out, plus some of last year’s items that didn’t sell,” she said. “Would you like to see those?”

Rose bit her lip. There was nothing on this rack to indicate that the shop had anything that would appeal to Jackie, but she really didn’t want to walk away empty handed.

“Yeah, all right.”

The woman nodded and hurried to the back of the booth. Meanwhile, the Doctor moved closer and wrapped an arm loosely around her waist.

Nothing that you think Jackie would like? He asked.

Nah, everything so far would make her rant about airs and graces again, and how living on the Estate was always good enough before and why did we need to change?

The Doctor grimaced; he’d overheard that argument more than once since meeting Rose. It never made any sense to him that a parent wouldn’t want their child to have a better life than they’d had. But, he supposed it was the implication that the old life hadn’t been good enough that grated.

He felt Rose tense slightly when the saleslady came back with an armful of coats. “Here we are,” she said, draping them over her table.

The Doctor and Rose both spotted the right one immediately.

“That one,” he said, pointing to the puffy jacket.

“Yeah, definitely,” Rose agreed.

The woman smiled. “I can give you a discount on this coat,” she said. “This is the one I spoke of, the style we tried last year that no one seemed to be interested in.” She set the coat aside. “Is there anything else you would like?”

Despite knowing it was a sales tactic, the Doctor still felt interested in looking around the shop some more. The benevolent gesture of the discount had done its work once again.

“What about you, love?” He gestured at the coat and warm tops. “You don’t really have a good coat to wear in the rain.”

Rose rolled her eyes. A raincoat would be more helpful if we knew it was going to be raining when we left the TARDIS, she pointed out.

The Doctor tugged on his ear. It was true that most times when they got caught in bad weather, it was because their landing had gone a bit south. Or north, or early, or late… Anyway. If they landed when he expected, they rarely ran into foul weather.

Still…

I can keep it in my coat pocket, he reminded her. Stashed away for a rainy day.

Rose rolled her eyes again at his ridiculous pun, but she did move back to the first rack of jackets. The Doctor wasn’t surprised when she pulled one out without needing to browse the rack again. The deep blue, knee length coat had caught her eyes when she’d looked the first time.

“We’ll take these,” he told the shopkeeper, handing over their credit stick.

Two minutes later, they were leaving the shop with a bulky package in hand. Without needing to consult each other, they wordlessly went back to the TARDIS to drop them off.

“All right, what’s next?” Rose asked the Doctor.

“Don’t you have other shops you want to check out?” he asked.

“Well yeah, but why don’t we just roam for a bit? See if something catches our eye.” She winked at him. “See if maybe there’s some kind of dangerous alien activity that needs our intervention.”

The Doctor pouted. “This trip has been perfectly—”

Rose slapped her hand over his mouth, muffling the rest of his words. “Don’t you dare,” she said, laughter in her words. “Don’t you dare jinx us like that.”

She felt his lips move, but the sound was still muffled. With one more warning glare, she pulled her hand back.

“Fiiiiiine,” he said, with an exaggerated pout. “Let’s go walk through the market and see if we can find any nefarious aliens looking to overturn the holiday fun.”

Rose nodded once, sharply. “Better.”

She slid her hand through the Doctor’s arm as they walked back to the main part of the market. There were a few other booths she wanted to explore, but honestly it was enough to just be here, on this magical planet, exploring it with her Doctor.

The Doctor hummed when he picked up on that thought, and a moment later, he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist instead, pulling in close.

I love you, he told her as he brushed his lips over her temple.

Love you too.

They stopped in front of the city hall again and watched the new group of musicians. This time, it was a brass ensemble. Thankfully, they weren’t dressed as Santas. Rose didn’t think she could have stood there watching a group of trombone playing Santas.

The Doctor laughed. “Quite right,” he agreed.

She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth. The Santas had brought back another memory from the previous year.

“Could we take Mum a new tree?” she asked. “I mean, she thought we sent her a new tree last year—that’s why she accepted it.”

“And you’re thinking that maybe she’d actually appreciate a new tree?” the Doctor said.

Rose nodded. “She’s had hers since I was�� God, I don’t even know. Since I was a kid,” she said. “Maybe she’d like something new.”

The Doctor looked down at her, and Rose bit her lip to hide her excitement. He had a plan.

“Is she set on having an artificial tree, or would she maybe be interested in a real tree?” he asked.

Rose put her hands over her mouth. “We never had a real tree,” she said. “I always wanted one, but we never could.”

He nodded. “There’s a Christmas tree farm outside of town. We can go later this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow if we end up spending the whole day shopping.”

Rose clapped her hands. “That would be amazing. Thank you, Doctor.”

Shouts of laughter drew their attention to the large park that ran along one side of the market square. “Come on,” Rose said, pulling the Doctor in that direction. “That sounds like something I want to be involved in.”

As they wound their way through the park, Rose noticed the wide swaths of pristine snow covering the ground. Tall evergreen trees towered over the park, their branches weighed down with snow.

“It’s like something off one of those old Christmas cards,” she said.

The Doctor nodded. “It’ll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives,” he sang.

“These wonderful things are the things we’ll remember all through our lives,” Rose replied.

The Doctor grinned at her. Despite the cold, his hearts were warm as he walked through the park with his wife. As far as ideas went, this was one of… He paused. One of Rose’s better ones.

They drew to a halt suddenly when a snowball whizzed by them. The Doctor looked around and realised they’d walked right into the middle of a snowball fight.

“Mind if we join in?” he called out.

A second later, a snowball hit him on the shoulder. The buzz of giddy amusement and exhilaration he felt over the bond told him exactly who had thrown it.

“Oh, you will regret that Rose Tyler,” he growled as he spun around.

But Rose wasn’t standing next to him anymore. He spotted her red coat disappearing into the trees and took chase. Snowballs flew through the air all around him, but he ignored the rest of the party.

Another snowball flew out of nowhere, and the Doctor only missed it by ducking and rolling. Rose laughed, and he leapt to his feet and chased after her as she ran from one cover to another.

Rose darted from one tree to another, trying to hold back her breathless laughter. She could feel the constant tug on the bond as the Doctor used it to keep track of where she was. However, that advantage worked both ways, and she was easily able to stay one step ahead of him.

But skulking in the bushes wasn’t really her style. A large snow fort stood on the opposite side of the clearing, and Rose was itching to reach it.

She peered around her tree, looking in both directions. At the same time, she tried to pull back from the bond as much as possible, hoping it would temporarily make it harder for him to find her.

And then she ran. Halfway across the clearing, she heard a familiar shout and footsteps crunching through the snow. She stretched her legs, trying to run just a little bit faster, but about ten feet from the fort, the Doctor slammed into her from the side, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to the ground.

Rose rolled, trying to get out of his hold, but the Doctor rolled with her, pinning her to the ground every time. “Gotcha,” he growled.

The rough voice sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the snow going down her back. “Yeah, you do,” she said breathlessly. “What are you going to do about it?”

The Doctor didn’t need any other invitation. He swooped down and pressed his lips to hers.

Rose sighed and tilted her head, letting him deepen the kiss. It might be cold and wet, but there was still no place she would rather be at that moment than on her back in the snow with the Doctor kissing her.

Finally, though, the jeers of the kids around them penetrated their private world. The Doctor pulled back and smirked down at Rose. “I suppose we’ve given them enough of a show.” He rocked back on his knees, then jumped to his feet.

Rose accepted the hand he offered and let him pull her up. She shivered when the air hit her wet back.

“I wish I was wearing that waterproof coat right now,” she said, rubbing her hands briskly over her arms. “I hate to take time to go change, but I think we need to.”

The Doctor shook his head and twirled his sonic screwdriver around his fingers. “Nah, I can dry us off in a jiffy,” he said.

Rose sighed in relief. “Come on, let’s get out of the way first.”

The Doctor nodded, and they walked away from the main snowball fight back to the path that led around the park. Once they were no longer in danger of being smacked in the face with an errant snowball, he stopped walking and started waving the sonic round her in circles.

“The sonic is creating molecule excitation,” he explained. “The water molecules in your coat are vibrating in tune to the frequency of sonic waves, and that’s causing them to evaporate.”

Rose sighed when he was done. Before he could start waving the sonic over himself, Rose took the device from him. “Like this, yeah?” she said, waving it over him in slow passes.

She was fascinated by the steam rising out of the brown wool coat. “That is amazing,” she murmured.

“Faster than a laundrette,” the Doctor said as he turned around to face her.

Rose laughed and finished drying him off. “Much,” she agreed. The Doctor took the sonic back and offered his hand, and they strolled through the park the way they’d come.

They were almost to the entrance of the park when Rose started shivering. Even though the Doctor had dried them off with the sonic, now that she wasn’t running across the park trying to avoid being hit by a snowball, she could feel how cold it was.

The Doctor pulled her close. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time for some Christmas cheer.”

Rose hummed her agreement. Some kind of hot beverage was exactly what the Doctor ordered at this point.

Thankfully, the beverage stand was one of the few that was completely enclosed. Rose sighed in delight when they stepped out of the cold wind. They still had to wait in line, but even that just gave them a chance to warm up.

“What do you want?” The Doctor pointed at the menu on the wall behind the person selling drinks.

Mulled wine was the first item on the list, and Rose almost selected it without looking further. She kept going though, reading past the various hot chocolates, coffees, and hot toddies.

The last item on the list caught her fancy. “Hot buttered rum,” she told him.

“Ooh, I like that. I haven’t had that in… er, ages,” he said.

Rose giggled. Well done, she told him. Not spouting out that you’re well over a thousand years old.

The Doctor tugged on his ear. “Welllll…” he said.

They finally reached the front of the line, and the Doctor placed their order. A few minutes later, they were walking out of the shop holding steaming mugs of hot buttered rum.

“I like that it comes in a mug,” Rose commented. “It’s like a little souvenir of this trip.”

She brought the mug up to her nose and sniffed. “Smells all warm and rich and spicy,” she said.

The Doctor took a big swallow of his drink and somehow managed to swallow it even though it was still steaming. “It’s delicious,” he said.

Rose grabbed his tie and tugged him down for a kiss. The Doctor flailed slightly, but managed to keep his mug upright while she snogged him thoroughly.

When she stepped back and straightened his tie, he gaped down at her. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Rose looked up at him through her eyelashes. “You had a moustache,” she explained. “I was just helping.” It sounded very innocent, but the way the tip of her tongue showed through her smile suggested otherwise.

The Doctor chuckled. “Well, feel free to kiss anything else off of me.”

It was a sentence that only six months ago would have made them both blush and start stammering explanations. Today, he leaned into the innuendo, using their bond to offer a whole host of suggestions.

Rose sucked in a breath, but somehow managed to speak. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her voice almost even.

Then she immediately took a sip of her own drink. “Oh, this is divine,” she moaned, licking the foam off her upper lip.

“The perfect thing to warm you up from the inside out,” the Doctor agreed.

The sun was low in the sky as they circled the market another time, drinking their hot buttered rum. There was one kind of shop Rose hadn’t found yet, much to her surprise. Finally, just as the sun was setting, she found it—a large shop specialising in Christmas decorations.

“I wanna get Mum an ornament or something,” she told the Doctor when she slowed to a stop. “Maybe something with the planet name on it? It’d be fun for her to have something that represents our travels, and no one else would bat an eyelash.”

The Doctor agreed, and they ducked into the packed store.

Unlike the first booth, here the salesperson left them alone to browse. Rose felt herself relax. It was a cultural thing, but even after years travelling with the Doctor, she wasn’t used to the overly helpful salesperson.

Left alone to browse, she slowly wandered the store, handing things to the Doctor as she found them.

“This is beautiful,” she said, carefully taking the delicate ornament off the tree. She held it for a moment before she noticed something different. “Doctor?”

He smiled. “Yep! Futuristic snow globes don’t need to be shaken for the snow to… snow. That ornament will constantly show snow falling, whether someone touches it or not.”

“I love it.”

oOoOo

It was dark when they left the shop. The market hadn’t slowed down; if anything the crowds had gotten thicker. “What are they all here for?” she said.

The Doctor took her hand and led her to the edge of the square. “Just watch,” he said.

Rose stared out at the plaza, trying to understand what she was watching for. Then she saw a light. First one, then a second. Then after that, dozens of lights floated up from the square.

“What are they?” Rose whispered.

“Remembrance lanterns,” he said, just as softly. “Every year, the city gathers on the third day of the festival to celebrate those who have been lost in the last year. The families make their own lanterns and bring them to the square on this day. The holiday lights are dimmed, and the lanterns are lit and released to the sky.”

Rose’s breath caught as she watched the spectacle. It was beautiful before; knowing what it symbolised made it absolutely stunning.

“I’m glad I don’t need to let one go,” she said, the words escaping her before she really thought them through. “I could set one off for Mickey, I suppose. It hurt to lose him. But it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as losing Mum would. And…” She bit her lip. “And sometimes I can’t help but remember that we almost lost each other.”

The Doctor shivered and pulled Rose close. The way the timelines had been pulling, trying to get Rose to leave him, he suspected that had been the primary timeline. But they had changed things. Jackie had changed things. And that’s why they could all be together.

“Happy Christmas, Doctor.”

“Happy Christmas, Rose.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #fic by Nancy #doctorroseprompts #31 days of ficmas #telepathic bond #married couple #in which the Doctor and Rose take a little detour on the way to Jackie's #and have some Christmas fun along the way #look!#i am catching up on Ficmas!

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rodbank13 · 3 years

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Japanese Nightlife

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Many of the bank card presents that appear on the web site are from bank card companies from which ThePointsGuy.com receives compensation. Most onsens have their own inns and B&Bs to host guests in these remote areas. These inns have been passed by way of the family for tons of of years, and every onsen has its personal story and mythology about the method it was found and the way it’s blessed by friendly gods. Located in japanese Kyushu, Beppu is one of Japan’s most well-known scorching spring locations, with onsen that both soothe or titillate. The so-called Hells of Beppu are a group of blood-red pools, ponds with eerie mud bubbles, boiling blue lagoons, and waters where crocodiles now live — all meant for viewing, not bathing. If you got here to Beppu solely to loosen up, skip the Hells and head straight for the spa and open-air baths at Suginoi Hotel. 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You can also get a massage in one of the adjoining massage rooms. With over 750,000 readers every month, Tokyo Cheapo is the location of alternative for worth hunters who need their yen to go further in Tokyo. We cover all of the basics together with issues to do in Tokyo, how to get from Narita airport to Tokyo, which JR rail move to decide on, getting a SIM card and pocket wifi.

#PBN-Home

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fadiingstarliight · 3 years

Text

INTRODUCING; LYDIA WINCHESTER

{ cis woman, she/her } did y'all see LAURA HARRIER at the farmer’s market earlier? turns out that it wasn’t them at all! it was really LYDIA WINCHESTER! they’re that 26 year old, SHOP ASSISTANT for SECOND CHANCE from down WHITE CORAL WALK. y'know, the IMPULSIVE & INDECISIVE one! ‘course, some people say they’re CAREFREE & EASY-GOING too. either way, they’re a NATIVE around these parts, so that makes ‘em family.

Lydia’s intro is under the cut with possible connections. Please hmu to plot! Open to anything with her really!

Lydia has a happy childhood with a happy family, and even though she was a lone child she grew up with a bunch of friends and loads of love. She was 12 when her father fell ill, and 13 when he died, and after that her mother just wasn't the same. Unable to handle the grief, the woman took her daughter and moved away, settling in Brighton where Lydia suddenly had to cope not only with the loss of her father and her mother turning into a whole new person but had to begin a whole new life by herself. Making friends was hard when she was grieving but she did her best, not many stuck apart from Allison in her younger years but with time she grew back into the happy person she used to be. She made sure she visited her grandfather atleast once every year, sometimes with Allison's brother, Adam. Her grandfather used to own The Winchester bar before he handed the reigns over to Marietta considering her mom never wanted to come back. It was recently that her mother got engaged and while she was happy for her and loved her new family, she felt more like an outsider now and decided to go back to Wakefield, this time for good, finding a job there and yet again, starting a new life but with her old friends in town as well as Allison and Adam, it didnt feel all that daunting.

Connections

Open: More friends from when she was younger and she visited. Childhood friends she lost touch with and we can kindle the friendship. A couple of fwbs from her visits. New friends and fwbs. Crushes and unrequited thingies. Maybe someone she kinda wanted to date when she visited at some point but didn’t coz she was not staying. Idk, anything goes, gimme!

Taken:

Allison (best friend)

Adam, Marietta (looks up to)

Copper, Nate, Sofia Belle, Violet (friends from childhood)

Robyn, Jinx, Blaise, Matias, Frankie (friends she knew from Brighton)

Sephy, Owen, Mari, Hayley (knows through Adam and Robyn)

Asher, Indigo, Posey (friends)

Declan (roomie)

Jade (neighbour)

Faye, Ivy (works with)

#lydia winchester | intro #wakefieldtask #wakefieldtask01

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srebrnafh · 4 years

Text

My little original novel. Out of a dream :)

The prince was an annoying, overbearing, constantly-bored piece of aristocratic shit.

The bodyguard, however—

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Even if the bodyguard was the funniest, most approachable guy I've spoken with that week.

And hot.

The prince was OK-ish, but. The bodyguard. Was hot.

####

It all started with my boss and his incurable lack of time. He had simply managed to forget that he was supposed to hand me some files and so I was completely and utterly unprepared.

"Irene—"

Oh, shit.

"Irene, I know— I'm sorry, OK? I had this thing I needed to take care of and then I bumped into the guys working on the talks tomorrow and we kind of lost track of time—"

I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

We both knew that whatever it was that needed fixing, I'd do it, since it was only five of us in the team and the other four were already out and about, meeting the guests, helping the staff with translations and what not.

That's the price you pay for the Charm of Languages. Five years of a government job.

Normal, regular paid job, not some kind of servitude, but still.

"Just stop blabbering and tell me what went sideways."

"There is that guest coming in. Today. I'd need you to pick him up at the station, give him your best walking tour experience, take him out to some regular 'authentic' food joints and help him find adequate gifts for back home. Standard tourist-y stuff."

That sounded suspiciously normal.

"But...?" I prodded.

"He comes equipped with a bodyguard."

Also not unusual.

I sighed. Glanced at the ceiling. Waited.

Jacob seemed to be squirming, even though he was sitting motionlessly.

"It's the prince of Lobelia."

The. Fuck.

In the wake of a certain until-then-nearly-unknown African country opening itself to the world, several other minor countries, of various level of technological advancement, had exposed themselves to the world, shown up at the UN and declared they'd be willing to trade.

One of them was the tiny, but rather fantastically wealthy, island nation of Lobelia (which was a rather cute name for a country).

Some mineral compound found in their native soil not only promoted general health of its inhabitants, but also showed up in sufficient quantities (and was replicable, too!) to allow them to become a quiet potentate on the pharmaceutical market.

Not to mention the fact that they hade a fabulous average education level, population-wide, since they had attended German, Japanese, British and American universities and worked on research programs there. They had intensive and labour-low farming industry, a lively food and pharma trade with India and contacts basically everywhere in the world.

A prince of Lobelia?

Daaa-yum.

He probably already spoke all the languages he needed. He wouldn't have the same Charm applied as I have, since the downsides were too volatile, but he'd probably have one of the lesser Learning Charms—

I shook my head to get rid of theories. Jacob knew how much I hated surprises, which is why he had been so careful approaching me - he was afraid to get hit with a pencil again.

"So? When is he coming?"

"He and his bodyguard - it was stressed that they are not to be separated under any circumstances - are coming incognito on a train from Warsaw, in an hour."

"You truly believe I'm a miracle worker."

"I trust you, Irene."

"Go to hell."

"Just take him walking through the Old Town, show him the Main Market Square, whatever you can. Shower him with all these little pieces of trivia and old stories and mysteries and so on. Show him the courtyards, Nawojka and what not."

"Old railway station, walk through Planty, Florianska, go through the Small, up to Main, Cloth Hall, stalls on the Main, around the Square, into little nooks and alleys, show him the cabaret, feed him crepes, kebap or buy a zapiekanka, Peasant's Chow, pop into some bookshops, a walk around Planty and get him to the Hill on time for the evening opening?"

Jacob sighed. And nodded.

"I have authorisation for Time Blend activator for you here, and it's your tour so your pick."

Whoa. Let me be a teenager for a moment and say, WHOA.

"My own? Anything I want?"

"Avoid double-placing."

"Seriously, as if I would."

"You could be tempted. Either Odeon or Empik."

I snorted and pocketed the activator key.

"Odeon. What kind of a barbarian do you take me for."

"Here's the company card, authorised to your fingerprint. And some cash, in case you blend too far back. Odeon included."

I checked the roll of banknotes. Thick.

"And—?"

There was always an "and".

"Basically, whatever is needed. He wants it, you help him get it. The account of the office is yours."

There had to be a catch there. Had to.

Simply. Had. To.

"Jacob."

"You have to make sure nobody tries to accost him or put a Love Pull on him."

"Shit. Sorry, I mean. That happened?"

"According to the documents, more times than you could guess. The bodyguard is equipped with some basic recovery spells, but you'll have the Suspension Cone key for that purpose."

That would mean my little key chain would be more powerful than any but seven in the city that day.

"Jacob, what the hell."

"The poor guy has just graduated law in Cambridge, and is working on his PhD. He has fended off seventeen different attacks over the last year, all of them aimed at snagging him and making off with some of of his Lobelia citizen shares before he'd notice. Do I have to explain that this is a huge heap of money? None succeeded, since both the prince and the bodyguard are skilled, but he is tired and asked for something normal. You will give him that normal. OK?"

I sighed, as heavily and as loudly as I could, snapping more Keys to my C-ring.

"I'm taking Food Safety and Insect Repellent, too."

"You have normal authorisation for them, no protest here."

"OK. Anything else I need to know? And to clarify, all I want now is to scream into the void, so whatever you have to say now, it better be something that reduces my stress levels."

He looked around and leaned closer.

"He might be incognito and— well, try to look like any tourist, but apparently people notice him. Not that they recognise him, but he attracts attention. So— just make sure whatever happens, if you can't deal with it, just take a taxi and get him to the Hill, I just gave you the authorisation to drive in through the main gate."

That sounded serious.

They wanted to send a guy like that for a walk around Krakow with one bodyguard and a guide?

Jacob had apparently read my thoughts.

"He asked for a normal day."

"And that why he isn't travelling with a full entourage, a masseuse, assistant and a full armed guard to watch his six?"

"Because he's fed up with them, claiming he feels like an exhibit in a circus. That was a quote. I think that between the bodyguard and you, if you work well together, there is a chance nobody will notice him. And you three will be less noticeable than a whole group."

####

So there I was, in the waiting spot by the Globe, Krakow Main Railway Station. Luckily, someone had the forethought to give the prince - or his guard - my photo, since there was no way for me to find him in the crowd.

Not that there was any significant size of the crowd, no.

Thankfully.

"Miss Irene?"

Well, he had a nice accent.

"My name is Robert and this is Avriel. He is the guy who wanted the 'normal' day out. Avriel, this is the guide that was sent to meet us."

Prince Avriel was— average. Not too tall, not too short, tanned but not too much (in the middle of the winter many people caught sun when skiing), dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Wire frame glasses. Going by all the known indicators, absolute average.

Robert, however. Was. Hot.

I stopped myself from going all Peggy Carter on his chest, but it was close.

"Yeah, so— Can I please have your identification keys?"

I would not be taking unauthorised strangers on a time-blend tour, no way. There are some limits to my irresponsibility.

Robert handed me both their keys, I pressed them to the reader.

Robert Saint-John Lieran; Avriel Robert Araway; Royal Delegation of Lobelia.

The reader beeped in confirmation.

"All in order. Fingerprints, please."

Another beep. Perfect.

"OK. No luggage?"

"Went with the main group. We just have a backpack for souvenirs. Avriel wants to get a gift for his mother. And we didn't want to be limited by heavy bags in case we found something uniquely interesting."

"OK. Right. I'm here to make sure you don't fall for any specialised tourist trap, but I will take you to some places that mostly tourists shop in, since that's part of the expectations, I suppose. Your—"

"Just Avriel," the prince cut me off quickly. "I— I'd not advertise me too much in every sentence. Let's omit titles."

"OK. Avriel then. You two cal just call me by my name, too, this way we'll mix with the crowd and be less visible. My name is Irene and this is my city-authorised Time Blend tour of the Old Town of Krakow."

"A what tour?"

Ah. Fun!

"OK, let's walk and I'll explain on an example. Here we are in the new main Railway Station, so I'm not going to call for the blend, since it would be pretty much lethal, but—"

We took the stairs up and strolled to the main old station building, where I paused in the front hall of— whatever it was that the old place now contained.

And called for the first blend back.

"This is what the ticket offices looked like back in the nineties," I pointed out to the bustling crowd around us. "I'm pretty sure I'm somewhere there, as a kid, trying not to get separated from my mother. I'm not picking a specific time, so I can't tell you the date, but it should be— Maybe ninety five. Oh. Yeah, quite so."

I must have focused on a particular day after all, since according to the newspapers around us it seemed to be a Monday, 20th of November, 1995. At least it was still chilly.

"So, this was— normal?"

Avriel was looking around, slowly turning in his spot, tracking all the passengers, railway personnel and SOK guards wide-eyed.

"Yeah. Ticket offices this way, waiting rooms back there, there is a little restaurant on the premises, but that's mostly for very brave people. Anyway— This is just to showcase what the blend works like. It's a city-wide dispersed charm that allows authorised users to slide them and their company back in time seamlessly. City aura manages our time slipping, so we don't just appear out of nowhere, we won't cause problems with causality, cause paradoxes and so on. I personally loved the old station house and the current use—"

They both nodded mutely, glancing at each other, at their surroundings, and at me.

Lobelia may have its natural resources to heal people, but Krakow wasn't without its own charms. And Charms.

"How does it even work?"

"Sentiment."

The prince frowned, but in a moment...

"I see. Robert, this is an extension of a hive memory theory— Are you using all city inhabitants as your base?"

"Only these over forty. Twenty in case of trained guides and history students. This way we gain better stability. And anyway, there are only sixteen keys tuned into the city aura, and we get separate authorisation for each tour."

"And you got us one—?" Robert's voice broke a bit with excitement.

"My boss just handed it to me today. I'm certified to get you back as far as early nineties, since I'm just a guide, not a qualified city historian. With one of these, you'd be able to blend back into— well, basically Middle Ages, but we don't really encourage that as a tourist destination. Mostly researchers do that."

I'll be honest.

I love the way people from high-tech and high-magic countries just lose it when they taste our local aura. And these two Lobelian boys were no different. Robert was blinking, trying to work out the way it was fitted together.

Standing on the Railway Square, between the Main Railway Station (version 1995) and Krakowska Shopping Mall (current version), with the announcements of the rains long gone still echoing in the corridor behind us, watching a tram going up the Warsawska Street, my high-born and important guests finally got to feel the aura of Krakow.

#seriously though I dream stuff like this #srebrna writes #original writing

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nicolewoo · 4 years

Text

I’ve Been Dreaming About You Part 2

Pairing: Roman Reigns X Reader (Joe Anaoi X Reader)

Warnings: None. Just fluff!

We were just minutes away from Laura’s house when my phone dinged. I handed the phone to Laura and gave her the code to un-lock it.

“It’s an unknown caller.” Laura practically sang out to me. She opened the text and said, “He wants to know if you’re home yet.”

He was WWE superstar Roman Reigns, or as we found out today, Joe Anaoi. He’d seen me and arranged to meet me. He and his Shield brothers had told me that he’s been dreaming about me for over a year. Pick up line? Yeah, probably, but he hadn’t made a move on me. Well, there was a kiss, but he hadn’t tried to sleep with me. Moreover, he wanted to come back on his day off and take me on a date.

“Tell him almost.” I told her, and she texted the message to him.

The phone dinged again, and Laura laughed, “He told you not to text and drive.”

“Tell him I’m not.” Well, we had one thing in common. Not texting and driving was important to both of us. I waited as she typed and then waited for a response.

“He said ok. I told him I’m texting while you drive.” She assured me. The phone dinged again, “Oh! He wants to know if you’ll call him when you get home.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that came over me. “Tell him yes.” I heard her type out the response.

“This whole situation is so weird,” She pondered. I didn’t answer, but only nodded my head. “Are you seriously just going to go out with him?”

I took a deep breath as I thought. “Yes. Why not?”

She sounded upset, “What do you really know about him? I mean, I’m pretty sure Seth and Dean were telling the truth, but really, who knows?”

“We don’t.” I said thoughtfully, “But any time I go on a first date, I take chances. At least with this man, he has a public reputation to protect.”

“Good point.” She said as I pulled up in her driveway. “Anyway, thanks for taking me with you tonight, and please let me know what’s going on. I’m invested in this now.”

I just smiled, “I promise. Now get to bed. I’ve got a phone call to make. Love ya!”

“Love ya too. Talk to you tomorrow.” I drove home, excited to talk to Joe again. Thankfully, the drive was just a couple of minutes.

=====================================================

I settled into bed, plugging my phone in to charge before I called him. “Hello.”

“Hey,” I said.

“You home?” he asked.

“Yes. Home safe and sound. How is driving through Missouri at…” what time was it? I checked the clock. “1 am?”

I heard him chuckle. “Dark and boring.”

“Just cows and billboards?” I’d made that drive quite a few times, although seldom at night.

His low laugh caused butterflies in my stomach. “Something like that. What are you doing?” he changed the subject.

“I just got home, and I’m relaxing now.” I omitted the fact that I was curled up in bed.

“Do you have to work in the morning? I don’t want to keep you up if so.”

It was my turn to chuckle. “I don’t start work until late morning, so don’t worry about it.”

“So, any idea where you want to go to dinner?” He asked.

“Well, that depends on what you like.” I teased.

“I like just about anything.” He said, giving me no direction.

I thought for a second, “Well, if that’s the case, there’s a really great steak house downtown. Depending on where you stay, we may be able to walk from your hotel to it.”

He hummed his approval. “Steak will be fine.” He paused before saying, “Listen, I was thinking about coming earlier in the day. When do you get off work?”

I just laughed to myself. What he didn’t know was that I owned my own marketing firm, and Tuesdays were my lightest day. I could literally get off work by 11 am if I wanted to. I just had to work harder the day before. “I should be off by noon.” I said nonchalantly.

“Really? That’s perfect.” He said. “Any ideas what we could do?”

I smiled to myself, “Yeah, a few. You want to do the tourist stuff or spend the day seeing how the natives live?” I laughed.

“You really spend that much time in St. Louis?” He asked.

“Yes. My city is wonderful, but there’s so much more culture in St. Louis, like restaurants from different countries and art. We just don’t have those things in the semi-small town we live in, plus St. Louis is so close.” I explained.

“I want to see St. Louis the way you do.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

We talked until he arrived in Kansas City at a little after 3 am. I chided myself for staying up so late. I was going to be dragging tomorrow. That said, how often did I get the chance to talk to a WWE star?

We ended up talking a lot before Tuesday. There were sweet good morning texts, phone calls at night and even a couple of face time conversations sometimes with his Shield brothers and sometimes without.

One thing was perfectly clear; there was a connection between us. Or, I guess I should say I felt like there was a connection. I guess we’d find out for sure on Tuesday.

====================================================

I don’t think I’d ever been this nervous going on a first date. I mean, this was Roman Reigns! Well, the guy who played Roman Reigns. He was Samoan, tall, tan, built, famous, rich, kind and funny. What the heck did I think I was doing? Girls like me just don’t end up on dates with guys like that!!!

And if that weren’t enough to scare me, he’d been dreaming about me. What if I didn’t live up to his expectations? My mind raced the whole morning. By the time I drove to meet him, I was shaking from nerves. I pulled up to the front of the hotel and found Joe standing outside waiting for me. He was dressed in jeans that fit him perfectly and a black, button down shirt. His long, dark hair was tied neatly in a bun, and when he smiled at me, I thought I’d faint.

He climbed in my passenger seat, grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it before buckling in. “Hey.” His smile broadened, and I melted.

“Hi.” I answered. He still had my hand and ran his thumb over the back of it. “When did you get in?” I asked as I started driving.

“9 this morning,” He said.

My mind reached frantically to find something to say. “How was your flight?” Oh, lovely. I have the most amazing man in my car, and all I can think to say is basic small talk? I’m going to ruin this date. I just know it.

He turned to face me before saying, “The flight was good, but tell me how your meeting went yesterday.” Thank goodness he wasn’t as nervous as me, and we settled into the easy conversation we’d been having on the phone.

Neither of us had eaten, so I headed to the Italian district, called The Hill, and parked in front of my favorite deli. We ate there, in the cramped deli with its rickety old tables and chairs, every table full and a line to order snaked around and out the door. I was nervous about Joe being recognized and inundated with requests for pictures and autographs, but we were only approached by one child who was waiting in line to order. Honestly, the little tyke was so cute and polite, I found it a pleasant experience.

When our sandwiches arrived, Joe loved it. “I can see why you chose this place. It’s delicious and I’m getting the real St. Louis experience.

“I’m just getting started.” I teased and we laughed.

Once we were done, we got back on the road. I turned into Forest Park before asking Joe, “Do you like art?”

He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “Art?”

“Let me re-phrase that. Art, botany, history or animals?” I wound the car through the curves and hills of Forest Park like only a native could.

He chuckled. “I thought you were going to plan this date.”

“And I have. We are going to one of four places in the park. You just decide art, botany, history or animals?”

I found an empty parking spot on the side of the art museum and waited for him to decide. “I feel like I should say Zoo, because isn’t it like really popular?”

“It is,” I nodded to him. “and it’s great, and if I had kids I’d be there every chance I got.”

He finished the thought, “but there will be kids everywhere. I’d get swamped.”

I just nodded. “It’s up to you though. If you don’t mind the fans, I’m more than happy to take you to the zoo.”

“I think…” he squinted his eyes a bit in contemplation. “I think you want to show me the art, so let’s go.”

I held my hands up, “Don’t put words in my mouth. We have a stellar History museum, the wonderful Jewel Box which is basically a giant greenhouse with tropical plants or our world class Art Museum.”

“Which would you pick if you could spend a few hours here?” Ah he had me. I smiled big.

“The Art Museum.” We laughed. I opened my car door and got out. He sent me a questioning look as I walked around the car and took his hand, leading him around to the front of the museum. The giant façade looked out over Art Hill, a favorite sledding spot, and a beautiful lake.

“You’d already parked at the Art Museum,” he chuckled.

He admired the statue of St. Louis riding his horse in front of the building before opening the large door for me to go in. In front of us was a giant desk, and he reached for his wallet as he went toward the desk. I pulled on his hand to stop him. “It’s free.” I explained.

“Really?” he said as he drew out his wallet and looked for the donation box. He slid $100 in it, which was sweet and generous.

“Now,” I began to slowly pace around the desk to the atrium. “Just so you know, I have to stop by and see a guy,” intentionally wording it to see if he got jealous.

“Oh really?” He took my hand staring at me to see if I’d give him any clue, half scared and half amused.

I nodded, “Yup.” I started walking us to the room on the right. “I’m completely in love with him.” I said as we stopped in front of Reclining Pan, a giant, beautifully carved satyr lounging while eating grapes with his pan pipe close at hand. “Joe, meet Pan.” I said. Joe eyed the marble, admiring the details before walking behind it to look at the back.

“So, this is the competition, huh?” he teased. “I think I can take him.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as my eyes scanned each tiny carve, each smooth curve, each rippling muscle in front of me, and as Joe came back to the front of the statue to join me, I realized the irony of both the statue and him being so muscular…. Like carved out of marble. “I just can’t decide which of you has the better abs…” I couldn’t hold back a teasing smile.

He licked his lips as he thought, “You want me to open my shirt so you can compare?” We laughed so hard, I thought one of the guards was going to tell us to stop. “Baby, I hope you’re not expecting me to have fur and hooves.” We laughed more. He was serious now, “It’s a beautiful statue.”

We wandered through room after room, up and down the stairs, taking in everything from modern sculptures to hieroglyphics. Some areas we went through faster, some slower so we could take in every detail.

Afterward, I took Joe on a drive around the city including The Arch, Graffiti Wall and some other popular places before heading to one of my favorite neighborhoods. The main street is full of shops selling everything from bread to hardware to French home decorations. We meandered stopping in the little shops along the way. Joe found some spices that he wanted to try. I pondered buying some sun-dried tomato and basil bread but decided against it. A young family with two young kids stopped to ask Joe for pictures, and he obliged.

Since I knew Joe liked beer, and we were two blocks away, I walked us over to Schlafly Bottle Works, a St. Louis local brewery. We sat at a little bar table with our drinks and talked about the art we’d seen, the city, work and so much more. The conversation was easy and relaxed.

When it was time, we returned my car to the hotel and started walking to the restaurant. We got stopped by 3 groups wanting pictures in just 2 blocks. I shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but we’d barely had any interruptions, and now we got 3. The young man behind the valet desk’s eyes bulged out when he saw us, and he quickly opened the door for us. Joe went to tip him, and the young man said he’d prefer a picture with Joe. Of course, he gave the kid both the picture and the tip.

“You made that kid’s night!” I chuckled, “and since this restaurant is owned by a former Cardinals player, it’s not uncommon to have players and other stars in here.”

“May I help you?” the young lady behind the hostess desk asked us, maintaining her professional persona even if her eyes did focus on Joe almost exclusively. Joe grabbed my hand, indicating we were together. I pondered for a second if he did that consciously or unconsciously.

“It’s under your name,” I squeezed Joe’s hand, and he returned the squeeze as he told the young lady and she walked us to a table in the middle of the restaurant.

“Could we maybe get that table instead?” Joe gave the hostess his flirty smile and I watched her melt as he pointed to a quiet corner table where we wouldn’t be so obvious.

She nodded as she cooed out, “Of course Sir.” I couldn’t help but laugh. I melted when he looked at me too.

Waiters and busers went into action. First, ice water in our glasses, then drink orders, then delivering drinks etc. One of the things I loved about this place was that it ran like a well-oiled machine. The servers were among the best in the city, and we never wanted for anything, but we also didn’t feel smothered. We sat and ate and talked and laughed. There were touches across the table. There were long eye locks. We watched as the people of St. Louis paraded past the floor length windows next to us. In short, it was perfect. This was by far the best date I’d ever been on.

After, we finished, we asked our waitress for a good calm after dinner place where we could talk, and she suggested Bailey’s Chocolate Bar. I’d heard good things about it and agreed. There, we found a dimly lit, slightly hidden corner with a loveseat and two tiny round tables in front of us each just big enough to hold a drink or two and a candle. As we enjoyed the privacy and the conversation, intimacy grew starting with hand holding, then his arm around the back of the seat, then soft, gentle kisses.

This man could KISS! My body responded to every single kiss, every single touch, torturing me with need. I wanted……. Oh! I wanted. Watching the light from the candle cross his face. Seeing his smile, smelling his cologne. I wanted, but just as my mind was getting hazy with lust, Joe broke our kiss, taking a deep breath to calm down and asked if I wanted to split a dessert with him. If I wasn’t going to give in to my sex drive tonight, I was going to give into a chocolate craving, so I agreed. The dessert was a smart way to break the sexual tension.

“So,” Joe put his arm around my shoulder casually. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

@mindofasagittaruis @lclb13

#roman reigns #joe anaoi

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