#AND we should get WEEKS (several) of vacation AND sick leave

[00-oh-yanno-00]

i have to work today and i’ll be honest, homies, if i get one more “aw you have to work on chriwtmas :(“ from a customer or another “ik its chriwrmss but we still have a call flow :(“ from management i’m going to throw the whole company into the ocean and then myself off a bridge

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Rut

Summary: The Hero is in heat thanks to his quirk and you, being a good wife, decide to help him through it. Unfortunately for you, you severely underestimated just how difficult ‘helping’ him would be.

A/N: Another Patreon request! I don't watch MHA but I always loved Hawks design so this was fun to write!

Disclaimer : Hawks X Fem reader. Overstimulation. Marathon sex. Rut.

“Baby- baby wait- fuck- don’t come closer!”

You froze, your hand stilled on the doorknob, about to open said door before you heard your husband call out to you from behind it.

“Keigo, what’s wrong?” you asked, listening to his wishes for the moment, “Did something happen? Are you hurt?!”

You felt your heartbeat fasten a bit, your mind conjuring up a multitude of scenarios. Being a Hero was no joke and you couldn’t count the many nights where you sat glued to the TV, heart pounding as you wondered if your husband was coming home that night alive.

“I- I’m fine baby. I’m not hurt.” He called out, making you sigh with relief, “but really- I can’t explain it but- I- I need to be alone.”

“Keigo, I love you and I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable.” You said, “but I am not leaving until I see you and make sure you’re ok for myself. I’m opening the door!”

“No- wai-“

But before he could get the word out, you pulled the handle and pushed the door open, eyes widening as you walked into…uh…

A huge mess of a room. The sheets were all pulled out and thrown around, the pillows were ripped up with feathers all over the bed. Your closet doors were thrown open and your clothes were all taken out, including your undergarments. On the bed, in the middle of all of the mess, was your husband, seemingly buried under a giant pile of your clothes. His usually styled hair was all over the place, adding onto the crazed look in his eyes and the flushed face. He was sweating profusely, hair matted onto his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed with an expression on his face that looked like he was in pain. His wings were wrapped around himself, feather shivering underneath the clothes.

“Fuck…” he cursed as he saw you, tossing his head back against the pillow made of your clothes.

“…What’s going on?” you asked, truly confused. You husband groaned loudly from under his cocoon, burying his head farther down the pile until you couldn’t even see him anymore, just his wings.

“…I’m in a rut.” He finally said, his voice muffled.

“What was that?”

“A. Rut.” He repeated louder.

“You mean…like…” you said, having heard the phrase before, “Like mating season?”

Hawks growled even louder, “Yes- fuck- my body is on overdrive and my dick is constantly hard. It sucks! I tried to calm myself down by jerking off and nesting with your clothes but- fuck me- it isn’t working.”

“So that’s what this is…” you said, at least getting an answer about the mess, “I’ve never seen you like this before. Is this the first time it’s happening?”

“…No. It happens every year.”

“What?! How have I never noticed it?”

“Because…I send you away. I buy you vacations to g-get you out of the house. S-Speaking of which- why are you back so early?! Your trip should have ended n-next week!”

“My dad fell sick so we had to cut things short.” You explained, wondering why you never questioned Keigo’s generosity in sending you on trips during the same time every year, “I can’t believe you kept this from me!”

“I’m sorry baby but-“ he hissed as his body shivered for no reason, “The rut can be…a lot to handle. My body just wants to fuck and fuck and fuck until my bones give out! It’s not pretty…”

“Then why do you not want me here?” you asked, still keeping your distance as you didn’t want to overwhelm your man, “I could help!”

That finally got him to push his head out of his wings enough for him to give you a look that said ‘you can’t be serious’. “Baby- you pass out after three rounds. There’s no way you can handle me when I’m like this.”

You gasped, an offended hand on your chest, “That’s not true- I mean- yes maybe- but my husband is in pain! What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t even try?”

Before he could even say anything, you grabbed your coat and shrugged it off of you, making him gasp as the fabric fell to the ground. You were just about to pull your dress off when Keigo broke out of his cocoon and surged forward so fast you could barely process it. He gripped you by the collar and pulled you towards him, the man still kneeling on the bed but even so, his face was in line with yours.

“You really- really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He growled, looking more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him. You gulped as you felt his hot breath fan your face, the look in his eyes making you shiver. You sex life was perfectly fine and quite satisfying but even through your years long relationship, you’d never seen him have this look- this ferocity- this…desperation in his eyes.

You felt your pussy quiver already, Keigo hissing as he saw your pupils dilate.

“I’m serious!” he said, grunting as he could smell the heat off of you, trying his best to not jump you and rip your clothes off, “This won’t be normal. I’ll go round after round- constantly fucking you and cumming inside you- You can beg me to stop but once I start- there’s no stopping.”

You gulped, hands going back to your dress to start unravelling it.

“Baby- take this seriously!” Keigo snapped, frustrated, “I know you think it’s all fun and games but- but-“

His thought trailed off as you managed to push your dress off of your shoulders, the fabric falling in a heap on the floor, leaving you clad in your underwear.

“…Fuck it.”

You squealed as your husband grabbed you by the hips, picking you up enough to turn around and throw you onto the bed, making you crash into your pile of clothing. You licked your lips as he all but pounced on you, the man making work of his pants as he pressed his lips against your, stealing your breath away.

This was going to be a long night~

~~~~~

Slurp “Ah baby-“ Mwah schuck shuck “Just like that- fuck me- keep pumping that cock- mmmph~”

You gasped as Keigo latched onto your nipple mercilessly, suckling on you like a baby as he lied down on the bed, torso supported on your lap, wings and all. Your left hand pumped his hard member as he suckled on you, pre-cum dripping down it like a faucet, making his dick so slick- it was like you had lathered it with lube.

His cock was hot and needy, the tip so red you wondered if it hurt. He was panting against you like a dog in heat- but it was rather a bird in heat. Your nipple was slick with saliva, drool dripping down the curve of your tit. He was sucking on your sensitive bud so hard it took your breath away, you bare pussy gushing at his moans.

Both of you were stark naked, clothes tossed all over the place and in definite need of a wash once this was over. Your spine shivered as Keigo moaned against your nipple, biting down on it gently when your hand paid special attention to the tip of his cock.

“Babe- fuck- gonna cum!”

“Wh- already?” you asked, surprised. It wasn’t even five minutes since you got your hands on him. He groaned in frustration against you, giving your nipple another bite before he simply snuggled his face between your tits, sighing happily as he felt the weight of them against him.

“I’ll cum fast but- mmph- I’ll cum a lot- oh fuck- yes- yes- cumming- cumming!”

With a shout, Hawks arched his back as he climaxed, making you gasp as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his tip. Your eyes widened at the amount, a seemingly never-ending stream of white ejaculated out of his cock and onto your hands, coating your fingers. Some of his cum spurt out with such force it stained his chest and a bit of his chin. He moaned loudly- shamelessly as he shivered from the pleasure, his balls throbbing from each pump of his cum.

Eventually, he relaxed a bit, taking in deep breaths as he snuggled his face harder against your breasts, a happy grin on his face. You blinked as you pulled you hand away from his cock, gulping at the sheer amount of cum on your fingers. Your whole hand was covered, webs of cum created as your spread your fingers apart. It looked like twice- maybe even thrice the amount of semen your husband would usually let out when he came.

“…The tissues are in the bedside drawer.” Keigo said, smirking at your shocked expression and getting off of you long enough for you to get the box of tissues and wipe your hand clean.

“Let’s go again.” He demanded, his hand groping at his still hard cock, looking at you like you were her prey, “I want to taste that pussy.”

~~~~~

“Ah- Ah- fuck- honey- right there!”

Hawks moaned against you, shaking his head from left to right, tongue dragging across every inch of your sopping cunt, “Here? Yeah?”

He gulped down your juices like he was a man dying of thirst, his hand in between his legs as he jerked off. Suckling on your nipples and getting a handjob was amazing- but he could never deny himself the pleasure of lapping at your cunt while he touched himself. It was one of his favourite hobbies.

“God- I love this pussy- love this pussssy so much~” he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sealed his slick lips around your clit and gave it a toe-curling suck, your cries tuned out over the sound of him slobbering all over you. It was messy and sloppy but oh so good! You arched your back, your hands tangled in his hair and you wondered if you wanted to push him away or pull him in even more. The sloppy sound of him sucking you up and drinking your juices made your face turn so red, it reached your ears, the noises and moans leaving your mans mouth making your heart rate increase.

Was he in heat or was it you?

Keigo stuck his tongue out lewdly and started flicking at your clit, pumping his cock in time with every movement, your little bud at his mercy. His feathers shook with the force of his hand, the man moaning against your clit and making your ears ring from the sensation. He once again opened his mouth wide before he took your whole pussy in his mouth, making out with her like he does with you.

“Keigoooo- oh God- s-slow down!” you whined, trembling underneath his merciless actions. He shook his head no against you, once again dragging his tongue all over you. He sucked your pussy lips into his mouth for a second before he said:

“No stopping. No slowing down. Now- cum in my mouth.”

~~~~~

“Fuuuck!” Keigo gasped as he couldn’t control his hips as he started pumping into your mouth, “Take it- take it- take my fucking cock!”

You gagged around your husband’s member, his dick pumping in and out of your throat, fucking it like it was your cunt. Having you lying on your back with your head leaning over the edge, you felt his balls clap against your forehead as Keigo fucked into your face, blood rushing to your head. The position gave you no choice but to take it- saliva and spittle leaving your mouth and dripping upwards. Your pussy quivered from the ghost of your orgasm, the sensation of his tongue on your slit still lingering and the warmth of the semen he splashed over your cunt making you tingle. You were stained with copious amounts of his seed, his second orgasm just as explosive as the first one and your whole pussy was covered in white.

It was only a matter of time before it was pumped inside.

Gawk Gawk gawk- hah- slurp- slurp- gawk

“Fuck baby- I can see my cock- fuuuck- imprint on your throat! It’s so hot!”

You could only imagine the view. Your tits bouncing up and down with the force of his thrusting- your neck stretched to accommodate the position which made it more evident when the bulge of his member showed up. He hissed as his hands went to your chest, squeezing your jugs and using them as leverage to pump faster against you.

“Y-You ok baby?” he asked, mind dizzy from the pleasure, surprised that he was still able to string sentenced together, “You can take it- ah- right?”

You gurgled around his cock, the vibrations making his knees buckle as he picked up the pace. Drool coated his balls, his sack slapping against your face harder as he mercilessly pumped into you, chasing his pleasure. You squealed as he suddenly pushed himself as deep as he could go and stayed there, your nose pressing against his nuts as his hands left your tits to instead reach for your legs. Your back arched off the bed, eyes watering as his cock was pushed impossibly deep, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tightly as he spread your knees apart, baring him your cum stained pussy. You squealed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hand slipped between your legs, fingers gliding between your pussy lips as he sought out your dripping hole.

“Ah- fuck baby- let me- mmmph- stretch this cunt out for my cock~”

~~~~~

Plap plap plap plap plap

  Your fingers dug into the skin of Keigos back- well- as much as you could considering the wings sprouting from his back. Said wings were slightly flapping, almost helping him thrust into your cunt with as much force as possible. Legs wrapped around his waist, your moans were swallowed by his tongue down your throat, your husbands’ eyes open and drinking in your fucked out expression even as he pounded you.

His balls clapped against your ass as his fat, throbbing cock pumped in and out of you, the drag of his veiny member against the ribbed texture of your cunt making both of you groan from the pleasure. You gasped as you broke the kiss, turning you head away so you could get a second to catch your breath. You felt him licking your skin to occupy his mouth, grateful that he was giving you a moment to collect yourself even as his tongue dragged over your cheek and upto your ear. You shivered as he ran his tongue along your ear before sticking it inside, the sensation making your whole body shudder.

After swallowing his cum (to the best of your abilities) and cumming around his fingers, Keigo didn’t give you even a second before he changed positions, spreading your legs so he could slide his cock inside your poor, sensitive pussy. His hips moved like a machine, rutting into you like it was the last thing he’d do. You gasped as the curve of his cock constantly hit your special spot each time he thrust in, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sensation.

…maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.

~~~~~

“Haa-aa-aawks!” you called out, voice jumping from the force of his thrusting. He simply grunted in response; his cock somehow still rock hard as he took you from behind. The cum he had dumped into your pussy was leaking out and staining the sheets, but he didn’t really care. He was going to pump another load into you afterall.

“B-Break- fuck- I need a b-break!” you pleaded, ass clapping back against his hips, his mouth watering at the ripple of your plush skin.

“No way.” He growled, raising a hand and smacking your ass cheek, loving your squeal as he left a handprint behind, “I warned you. We’re not fucking stopping!”

Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, elbows giving in as your torso fell to the mattress, leaving you face down, ass up. You panted against the pillow as the position somehow drove his cock deeper inside you, his cum staining your thighs and his balls. His cock was practically covered in white, Keigo churning up the semen inside of you and it was so filthy, it made your head spin.

“Fuck- gonna cum baby!” he cried out as he felt his balls tighten, the familiar sensation of an oncoming orgasm making his body tingle, “Pump this pussy with my seed- let’s get you pregnant, ok?”

You simply moaned against the pillow; your noises muffled by the fabric as tears left your eyes. Your eyes widened and you shrieked as Keigo leaned over you and slid his hand down to your cunt, his fingers easily finding your clit.

“Ah- ah- Kei- fuck!” you panted against the pillow, your body going into overdrive as he started swiping at your sensitive, swollen bud, “too much- too- ah- fuck!”

The two of you climaxed simultaneously, the familiar sensation of your husband pumping copious amounts of cum inside you pushed you to your orgasm, your pussy squirting and spraying liquid all over the mattress.

You collapsed flat on the bed, eyes rolled to the back of your head as your pussy throbbed, Keigos’ cum seeping out of you like a flood. You didn’t need to look back to know he was still hard and ready to go again.

“…Spread your legs. I need to eat out your asshole.”

“Wh- Keigo- eep!”

You squealed as the man gripped onto your ass cheeks before spreading them apart, exposing your puckered rim to him before he surged forward, planting his face right between your cheeks. You babbled at he started greedily lapping at your hole, shamelessly moaning as he tasted you. You shrieked, body once again getting overstimulated as his ran his tongue over your rim. The two of you dabbled in a bit of anal over the years but never in such a…desperate manner.

He smacked your ass before he shook his head between your cheeks, motorboating you butt as he played with you like a toy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs.

You tried to remember where you kept the lube.

~~~~~

The sun was up.

Fuck.

The sun was rising.

And you two were still having sex.

Well, Hawks was. You passed out during the middle of things and you had given him permission to use you even after you blacked out. Your body really couldn’t take any more orgasms and it shut down at some point.

You awoke with a start, several sensations hitting you all at once, making your head spin. You were lying on top of Keigo, your head nestled against his neck as he pumped his hips up and into you. You gasped as you felt the burn of his cock in your ass, his thick member stretching out your barely used hole. The glide was significantly easier than the first time he fucked your ass tonight thanks to all the cum lubing you up.

“L-Last one baby!” Keigo panted, somehow looking stunning even through the many hours of sex and orgasms, “Ready? Yeah? Want my cum?”

“H-Hurry up…” you groaned, your body still weak and tingly from when you passed out. You had lost count of the number of times you came as well as the number of times Keigo came. You stopped counting after six. Your body was fucked within an inch of its life and you had no more energy and so, you simply lied on top of him like a ragdoll, panting against his neck as he embraced you tightly. His hips bucked up into you, his thighs flexing deliciously as he chased his pleasure.

“Cumming- fuck- cumming!!”

With a final shout, his head tossing back and eyes rolling to the back of his head, Hawks came one more time. You mewled as his seed filled you up but you noted that it was significantly less that what you had endured all night. You felt his chest deflate, like a load was taken off of his shoulders (and his balls), the man finally relaxing.

“Fuuuck…” he said, gently pulling his cock out of you and thankfully, he was now soft, “That was…insane…”.

You nodded against him, grimacing as you finally got a second to note the condition of your body, i.e. covered in sweat and cum and stuffed full of semen that was continuously leaking out of you.

“Y-You ok baby?” Keigo asked and you couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly trying to fight sleep, his rut having left him and rendering him exhausted yet satisfied, no longer tormented by the heat.

“I’ll be ok.” You said, kissing his neck, “…But no sex for a month. I think I almost died.”

You felt his chuckle rumble in his chest, “I warned you, baby bird.”

“Mmmm. You did.”

“Speaking of baby, you’re probably knocked up, right?”

“…Probably.”

“…Nice.”

[restwellsoon]

Nothing in Particular | 3 - What's in a Name?

Pairing: Omota Uramichi x F!Reader

Summary: A series of unexpected encounters and misunderstandings causes you to fill a large and gaping hole in Uramichi’s life.

Minors and blank blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Warning: Uramichi jerkin' it <3

Your to-go containers sat innocently on Uramichi’s counter as he passed them each day. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks despite the promise to do so more often. Usahara mentioned something called ghosting, where things seemed like they were going very well, then the other person would disappear without a trace. Was that happening to him?

He shook his head. No, it couldn’t be because you texted several times a week. Were you actually talking though?

Hi, when are you free? Sorry, overtime again.  How was your day? Ugh, busy. Good morning! Good night!

Leaning against the counter, he analyzed your conversation until unexpectedly your photo ID popped up on his screen, making him jump. He waited a few seconds before answering it. You hadn’t called him before.

Bumping the call volume to its max setting, his ears still strained to hear you. All he could tell was that you were talking to a man, though he couldn’t hear the words clearly. His stomach sank. He should have known that things were too good to be true. Rather than letting the masochistic side of him win and continue to listen, his finger hovered over the ‘end call’ button.

“Huh? Ura…?” You said, voice suddenly clear. “Excuse me, Sakumoto, there’s something I need to take care of. I expect an email with more details by the end of tomorrow.”

Had he been listening this entire time, or was this a long voicemail? “Uramichi…?”

He said your name. “Hello?” 

Fiddling with the pen on your desk, you smiled when you heard him speak. “Sorry for the random call! I’m still at work right now, trying to tie up loose ends for that team dinner on Friday.”

Ah, so it wasn’t what he thought it was. That sick feeling in his stomach disappeared as he hummed, scrolling back a few days to see that you did mention having to plan something nice for your team.

Putting away your things and slinging your bag around your shoulder, you pulled out your earbuds to keep your hands free. “You’re quiet,” you noted. “Guess I must have disturbed ya, huh?” 

He shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “No, I’m just a little tired. I just got back from the gym.” A part of him was waiting for a comment about being a gorilla or that he was a meathead.

Pushing past the front door, you didn’t bother to give your workplace another glance. You were too busy thinking of a sweaty Uramichi lifting weights and breathing heavily. His face probably flushed easily and his sweat made his hair stick to his forehead. You thought of the way his Adam's apple moved as he gulped down water. Good thing you were done for the day–and good lord, was it already night?--because your thoughts were definitely NSFW.

“Ooh, look at you. Good job,” you said. “I’ll let you get your rest then.”

He gripped the edge of the counter, somehow not expecting that answer. Was it only him that wanted to talk longer? Ah, but you said you were just leaving work. He looked at the clock. It read a god awful 8:30 PM. 

“Oh, and Michi? It was so nice to hear your voice.” He could hear your smile. Did you actually mean that? He found himself smiling back at your words. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

---

Smokes in hand, Uramichi stiffened when he felt an unknown presence stalking behind him. It couldn’t have been Amon. He was out on vacation. Besides, this person’s aura felt far too menacing compared to the creative producer.

“Oh, Uramichi oniisan~” Utano sang from behind. When he didn’t stop, her voice dropped. “Hey, we need to talk.”

He was a few paces from the smoke room, and slowly he turned to see if he could make a run for it. Utano was somehow behind him, but at the very least she was pushing him towards where he wanted to go.

“I heard you and my friend had a lovely chat a while ago,” she said. At least she let him light up his cigarette before their break was over.

Uramichi took a quick puff, letting the smoke dissipate slowly upwards. “How’d you know?”

Giving him a look before rolling her eyes, she should have known that this was an Uramichi–and an Usahara and Iketeru too–type question. The lack of experience with women was obvious.

“Duh, we’re friends . We tell each other everything.” 

He smoked a bit more without saying anything. He considered him and Nekota friends but certainly didn’t share all the details of his life with him. Kumatani, Iketeru, and Usahara were in the same boat too. There were things about each other that they didn’t know and didn’t care to know either. What was the point in knowing everything about someone’s life?

“So is everything good?” She asked, annoyed with his silence. 

“Uhh, yes?”

Utano assessed his facial expression and body language. Uramichi’s arms weren’t crossed, letting his hand that held the cigarette dangle at his side. His ankles weren’t crossed either, meaning he wasn’t hiding anything or acting defensive. He spoke and looked at her with a confused expression. Even though he wasn’t as much of a liar as Kumatani or Usahara, she still couldn’t trust him. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Iketeru and lacked their kouhai’s brutal honesty too.

“Good,” she smiled.

She’s weird when she’s cryptic, Uramichi thought. “Why do you ask?”

Continuing her assessment, she noted that his mood has been more stable these days too. Naturally, she attributed it to your good work.

In her grating cheerful work voice, she spoke, “Things are better when we get along.”

“Huh?”

Deciding that she was done with him, Utano offered a few last words to a bewildered Uramichi. “Make sure you treat my friend well… or else! ☆”

“Chicks are pretty scary,” he mumbled to himself as he ashed the end of his cigarette onto the tray. What was the point of their conversation?

---

Uramichi just needed to get through the work week. His final obstacle before he could enjoy his weekend was a dreaded dinner that the station decided to throw in his honor. Apparently, he was in the running to win a Galaxy Award for outstanding television host, which was a surprise since he didn’t consider himself one. Regardless, his win would give MHK and their show more fame, which equaled more views and more revenue. He hoped that it also meant a bigger paycheck. 

He doubted it though as he followed the directions to an upscale restaurant in Roppongi. The station would rather splurge on luxuries like these instead of paying their workers what they were worth. 

Tugging at his tie, he loosened it a bit before stepping inside. The only time he ever dressed up was when he had to give official interviews as a gymnast and at the year-end work party. He couldn’t wait to dress down into something more comfortable.

The bathroom mirror’s bright lights showed every pore and wrinkle you had as you did one last once over on your appearance. Sticking to your rule to be overdressed instead of under, you smoothed over your clothes, making sure you looked neat. Your dress fit tighter than you’d like, an oversight you made by changing your outfit last minute. At the very least, your hair and makeup looked good.

Your assistant, Sakumoto, had done well with his assignment. Your goal was to make the teams that you managed feel appreciated. After all, you had asked a lot out of them in the past quarter, and their quiet grumbles and complaints weren’t completely lost on you. 

It was a shame that he couldn’t rent out the entire place. Sure, your boss wouldn’t have liked how much you spent, but you’d been in your position long enough to know how to write off certain expenses. It’d be worth it too, you could argue, to have happy employees.

Leaving the bathroom and entering the dining room, you were confused to see Sakumoto and two other supervisors, Hasegawa and Iwamoto, crowding around what was obviously the other party that had the other half of the restaurant. Other staff joined their crowd, and quickly you rushed to assess the situation.

“Uramichi oniisan! Love your work, buddy. If it weren’t for you, my wife and I would be going insane. Jotaru uses up all of his energy doing those ABC calisthenics!”

You turned at the sound of your name. “Utano?”

Giving you a hug, she pulled you aside, giving the crowd a glance. “Hey girly! I didn’t know you were doing your team dinner here. Oh my gosh, we should totally merge parties.” You both looked at the intermingled groups. “I didn’t know that a lot of people on your team were huge fans!”

Sakumoto was chatting with the director while Hasegawa and Iwamoto talked to Iketeru. The other staff continued to surround Uramichi and two other actors that Utano said were the mascots. You hummed, “Yeah, I didn’t know either.”

While Usahara and Kumatani bickered and the other people made their way to Iketeru and the Derekida, Uramichi tried to find a viable escape route from this exhausting social situation. Instead, his eyes spotted you and Utano talking.

He called out your name, making you turn from your conversation. You weren’t sure why you were expecting him to be in exercise gear, especially when Utano herself was dressed up, but you were pleasantly surprised to see how well he cleaned up. This look gave him the aura of a true TV star.

“No way,” you heard Akane, a new hire that you already had to keep an eye on, whisper loudly. “How does our boss know such a hottie?”

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen you in a while, but Uramichi couldn’t help but blurt out that you looked nice. Utano watched the exchange with the pleased look of a successful matchmaker before giving you space (and so she could watch from afar).

“I could say the same about yourself,” you said, giving him one last look for good measure. It’d be the only casual comment you’d give him. You had to remind yourself that you were at a work event and needed to be professional.

You could already see your staff gathering around you both. Good. You didn’t have to herd them to the correct side.

“I see some of you have already met the stars of Together with Maman, like my dear friend Ms. Tadano as well as Mr. Omota and Mr. Daga along with other members of their production team. It seems like they’re here for their own celebration, so let’s be respectful of that and give them some space.”

Utano waved after her introduction as did Iketeru. Unfortunately, Uramichi was different.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” he told them, then turned to you, “and please, call me Uramichi.”

“We love you, Uramichi!! I can get laid in the morning because of ya’ll!”

Shooting a glare at Daiki, you mouthed that you’d talk to him later. Daiki paled.

Clapping your hands, you hoped that the team would finally get the cue that you wanted them to leave the Together with Maman team the fuck alone. You hated having to repeat yourself. You also didn’t want to look bad in front of Uramichi.

“Thanks so much for being so welcoming, Mr. Omota. Now let’s get ready for dinner and drinks, team!”

Why were you calling him Omota again? Didn’t you both agree to call each other by your names? “No need to be so formal,” he reminded you. “I don’t care what they call me, but you should call me by my requested name.”

Utano snickered behind her drink as you stared at Uramichi blankly. After knowing Uramichi for years, she knew exactly what he was doing. He really wanted to feel close to you. In a way, she felt sorry for questioning his sincerity and motives towards you earlier. This man was unknowingly dealing with an adult crush, and he was so fucking cringe.

Surprisingly, it was Usahara who had come to your rescue, pulling Uramichi away while Kumatani followed behind them. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. “Quit bullying her, bro. That’s not how you get chicks.”

Bullying? Uramichi only wanted to be less formal with you. 

To prove his point, Usahara turned back at you and winked, earning a very bewildered look out of you. Quickly, you returned to your team.

Despite the unexpected introduction and mingling, the team dinner had gone without a hitch. Your team was happy, full, and drunk, which you hoped meant that they would continue to keep up the good work. You hoped that you could pay them off with good food and booze until the end of the year, or at least until your own annual review.

Unfortunately, being the host meant that you were the last to leave. Paying the bill, you sighed. Exhaustion made the alcohol hit your system quicker. At least you wouldn’t look like a fool in front of your co-workers.

It was a shame though. You wanted to hang out with Utano more, but your friend had left about an hour prior with her boyfriend. You wouldn’t want to be a third wheel with them anyway.

With no one left from your company, you left the restaurant, pausing when you saw a familiar person smoking outside.

“I thought you left a while ago,” you told Uramichi. 

He couldn’t say that he was stalling just to see you. “Yeah,” he exhaled, “they threw this party because of me, so it’d be rude if I was the first to leave.”

You nodded. “Utano told me about your nomination. Congrats!”

Trying to downplay his achievement, he shrugged out a thanks and tossed his cig in the trash. “Anyway, let’s head to the station. We might miss the last train.”

Following in his step, you teased him, “Uh-oh. Don’t tell me that you’re gonna walk me home after.”

He gave you a look. “Strong, independent women in their 30s still need to be protected late at night, especially when they’ve had a bit to drink.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

---

Ugh, the ride back home would take a half-hour. Clutching your purse in your lap, you leaned forward in your seat while Uramichi stood in front of you. The alcohol was really hitting and had you wondering if you really had overdone it. You closed your eyes as you tried to stop the spins from getting to you. 

The train car grew emptier with each stop, and soon its movement lulled you to sleep. 

Your head rested on something more comfortable than your hands, and you nuzzled your face into whatever it was. 

Uramichi mumbled your name in a strangled voice, “Hey, um, could you uh, could you move?”

Why would you need to do that? Opening your eyes, you saw his zipper, then looked more and saw a bulge. Oh.

Jolting up, you sat back into your seat, relieved that no one was around to see you. Somehow, the fact that you were alone was worse. The subway air felt thick each time the door opened. Uramichi’s cheeks were flushed. Your new position didn’t change the fact that you were eye-level with his boner.

Sliding into the seat beside you, he pointed towards his arm. “You can rest still if you want. We have about twenty more minutes until we reach our stop.” His blush spread to his ears and down his neck. “I think this way will be more comfortable for both of us.”

Wrapping your arms around his, you took him up on that offer.

“How ‘bout one more drink before the night ends?” You asked, getting a second wind from your power nap as well as newfound sobriety. You stretched your arms overhead, a bit stiff from sleeping while sitting up.

Although Uramichi said that leaning on his shoulder would be more comfortable, it was a lie. Asleep, your arms fell limp. One hand covered his own while the other laid precariously on his lap. Your knees bumped into his thigh, and your breasts pressed into his arm. 

Honestly, all he wanted was some relief from this unintentional torture you put him through, but it was difficult to refuse you.

Trying to think of what was open, the two of you had limited options. The konbini, Cat Kick… Oh. That place might work, if you were willing.

“My place is right there,” he said sheepishly while pointing out his building. “I have a few bottles if you don’t mind something a bit stronger than beer.”

“Ah, the really nice apartments,” you noted. Uramichi lived in the high-rise that had its own doorsman.

Uramichi tried to find other reasons why you should go to his place instead of a bar; any reason would do to make him seem less creepy. “Oh! And I still have your containers from last time.”

“Right. I was really missing those actually,” you winked, “so I guess I might as well stop by and get them.”

There was a skip in your step as you followed him home.

---

Taking a good look at his apartment, you tried to memorize everything you could, in case you’d never see this place again. Despite all of his accolades and trophies, his walls and shelves were surprisingly devoid of any of that. The only hint that Uramichi might even be into any sport at all were the dumbbells and hand grips he had in a corner and some workout magazines on the table.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” you said as you made yourself comfortable at the table. 

Uramichi looked up from what he was doing. He was already pouring himself a large glass of whiskey on the rocks.

You looked at him, then the cup while Uramichi grew conscious about just how much he drank. You regretted saying what you did as he continued to pour. He only stopped just a hair before it would overflow. 

And because of social etiquette, he slowly pushed the glass towards you, not spilling a drop despite your hopes. With a tight smile, you accepted it.

“You really don’t have to finish that,” he said, pouring himself an identical glass.

“Oh, it’s fine!” You smiled. “You poured it for me, and I asked for it. It’d be rude not to drink it all.”

Life left your eyes as you swallowed hard to get through the burn.

Coughing, you asked him, “So how was the rest of your night? Sorry about my co-workers. I didn’t know that they were fans.”

He shrugged, “I’ve had worse conversations from parents. But yeah, the rest of the night was fine.” He was hoping that the two parties would merge, but you seemed hellbent on keeping your team in line.

Taking a smaller sip, you said, “I didn’t realize how popular you are. Now I’m kind of worried that there might be more competition than I realized.”

“With the kids program?” He asked.

Before you could say that no , you were not talking about the kids program, respectfully fuck the program, and that you were trying your hardest to flirt with him, Uramichi continued to speak.

“I mean, there are a few other educational programs out there, but a lot of ‘em nowadays are more focused on entertainment. Honestly, I think it’s a bit overstimulating for the targeted age group.”

You finished the rest of your drink in two large gulps, wiping away the tears in your eyes and mumbling about the burn. “Is that so?” You coughed. “Well, that makes you even more amazing.”

How had he finished his drink before you? He made zero indication that he even drank at all–no coughing, no wincing, nothing.

“Actually, I think what you do is more amazing instead. One of your kouhais was telling me that you’re one of the youngest regional managers at the company.”

“It’s not that impressive,” you admitted. “I just… do the bare minimum, which is apparently still too much compared to others–that’s how I fast-tracked it to my current position. And what did it get me other than a slightly larger salary and a significantly larger amount of work?” You shook your head. “I should have spent my 20s at the club or going on gokons.”

“Oh… is that what you’re into?”

“Not really,” you swirled the ice around in your cup. “I guess I feel like I missed out on a lot of things because of work?” 

As a child, you were sold the lie that girls could have it all–a career, a family, and a fulfilling social life–and it was only in adulthood that you realized how difficult it was to balance all three. You never dated because you were too busy getting promotions. Your friend group slowly dropped off as each of you submitted to social expectations and life’s demands. All you had was this shitty job that you needed in order to live.

Uramichi felt the same way with his gymnastics career. The fame and glory meant nothing when it felt like he was falling behind and failing at life.

You rambled on, “I mean, we didn’t even get to have dinner together or see each other until now.”

Somehow your honesty embarrassed him, just like when you spoke on the phone. You made him feel important.

“I’m happy that we’re able to be together now though,” he said, “ alone too.”

Were your feelings finally getting across to him? Maybe he was an honest drunk.

“Is that so, Michi?” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much around him.

His mouth twisted into a pout. “Aw, don’t play cute by calling me that when it’s just us.”

“I knew that was what you wanted me to call you at the restaurant! Why ?”

There was an innocent look in Uramichi’s eyes. They sparkled with hope and misunderstanding.  “Didn’t we agree to call each other by our first names? It felt like you were going back on your promise.”

That little devil!

“Well, uh, yeah,” you trailed off, recalling that embarrassing incident at the market, “but not while I’m at work! People will be suspicious!”

“Suspicious of what?” He asked, all charm gone from his features and voice. He was serious, as if he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Now that you thought about it, what would that imply? It seemed like a lot of people were on a first-name basis with Uramichi, and people called out to him like that because of his work. It was something that you could easily get away with. Was there anything to be suspicious about between you and Uramichi? Maybe you were just friends or had known each other for a long time. No one knew your history together. How did he see you anyway?

Your dark thoughts only grew darker because of the alcohol, and you fell into an all-consuming spiral. You looked up from your glass, laughing. “You’re right. I guess I’m overthinking things!”

Standing up, you thought it’d be best to leave before you did something embarrassing. “Anyways, I think I should go now.”

The clock read that it was nearly two in the morning. “No way,” Uramichi said firmly, holding you by the wrist. “It’s late, and you’re drunk.”

The problem with alcohol was that it was hard to notice how hard it hit you until you started moving. Everything was spinning, and your body felt heavy and slow. “It's fine!” You tried to argue and pull away. “‘‘m fine!”

---

And as life would have it, things were not fine as you woke up to the sun peeking in through the curtains, strategically blinding you. Groaning, your head pounded from the hangover. You were hoping that all you’d feel today was some photosensitivity and a headache instead of wasting your day by the toilet.

Turning from the sun, your leg wrapped around something that was firm yet soft. You felt the mattress. It definitely wasn’t yours. The sheets didn’t smell like your sheets either. They smelled like…You buried your head into the pillow. A man?!

You employed all the techniques that your company equipped you with for stress management: breathe deeply, express gratitude, ground yourself in the present… Ugh, that was all a load of shit in this situation!

You recalled everything you could from last night: team dinner, train, Uramichi’s place, you hurt your own feelings after drinking too much, then left. You left… right? All you could remember were your intentions to leave and spilling water on your clothes, then changing out of them right after.

Which meant that this bed and these sheets were Uramichi’s.

And the person that you were cuddling was…

“What the fuck?!”

You were met with the blank stare of some disgusting human-bird chimera. Trying to avoid its judgemental gaze, you weren’t sure if you should look at its beak or lips, eventually settling on its bright blue buttoned top. Why the hell was it human-sized too?

“You’re not Uramichi!”

In your fright, you threw the creature with all your strength. It landed a foot away from the bed with a thud.

A shirt that wasn’t yours pooled at the tops of your thighs as you sat, tickling your bare legs. You grabbed your boobs. No bra on either. Shifting, you were grateful that at least your panties were still on. Could you and Uramichi really have…?

Hearing your movement from the bed, Uramichi laid still while contemplating what to do next after last night. He didn’t fully understand why you were upset but couldn’t let you leave in that condition. The water he offered you spilled on your clothes. His plan to walk you home after an hour of sobering up failed.

“Could I borrow a shirt?” You asked before stripping off your wet dress. 

Did you not see him as a man? He wondered as he quickly gathered the dress you threw, nearly getting hit by your bra. He threw your clothes in the dryer as he fought his body’s urge to turn around.

He would have suggested that you laid down, but you already claimed his bed as yours, patting the open spot in front of you.

“Michi?” You asked him, lying on your side with your head resting on your hand. “Aren’t you gonna come?”

The whiskey drunk was slow when it wanted to be but could hit the drinker like a truck just as easily.

“Only if you’ll let me,” he stammered out. 

God, he could hear himself and he prayed for death. He sounded like a virgin, not that it was anything to be ashamed of, but that was something that he wasn’t. He didn’t want you to think that he was a completely inexperienced and inept fool. Maybe he’d just blame all of this on the alcohol.

How could he not be tempted and feel the things that men felt when you were in his bed like that? His shirt clung to parts of your body that it shouldn’t: hanging onto the contour of your hard nipples, bunching up at your waist. Your panties were dark and lacy.

“Well?”

This could be his only chance, he thought, as he did his best to get rid of his clothes. Nearly choking himself out with his tie, his shirt was next. His fingers fumbled with his belt buckle.

Stepping out of his pants, he was met with disappointment. You were already asleep. Fate was cruel. How could anyone fall asleep that fast?

Disappointment brought back his senses, and he resigned to getting the guest futon. When he came back, to add even more insult to injury, he saw that disgustingly large stuffie of Kotori-san snuggled against your body, upside down so its face was buried between your thighs. That could have been him! It should have been him! He glared at that abomination as he laid out the bedding on the floor..

Leaning over the edge of the bed, Uramichi’s back was turned towards you. He slept shirtless, and you wondered if that was normal or because of the heat. He wasn’t even flexing, but you could see the definition of his back. You told yourself that you were reaching out to him to see if he was awake, not because you were some kind of perv.

“Uramichi?” You tentatively asked, giving his shoulder a soft prod. 

That was his cue to turn over. Using his best just-woke-up-but-not-really voice, he mumbled a low ‘good morning’ while stretching out on his back.

“Morning! Would–” His blanket dropped lower, revealing chiseled abs and a tease of his boxer’s waistband. It also revealed a very noticeable tent where his cock was. You caught yourself. “Would you happen to know where my clothes are?”

The sexual frustration and tension from last hit you two harder than your hangovers as you both stared at each other for a moment. Everything you felt last night was bubbling up, and in some weak attempt at protection, you grabbed his sheet to cover up.

“They’re in the dryer,” he said, scrambling to get up. You saw the rest of his perfect body. “I’ll grab ‘em.”

Pointing out the bathroom, he handed off your dress, and you scurried there while he headed to the balcony to smoke.

In the bathroom, you went over last night’s events again. You and Uramichi seemed to have done nothing explicit at all, but he had to have some interest in you, right? There was no way he’d let any woman that he was merely acquainted with sleep in his bed. He was kind though, so maybe he was just being polite?

Coming out of the bathroom with his shirt folded, you thanked him for taking care of you and apologized for any trouble that you might have caused. He stared at you with his cigarette hanging off his lips, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll be heading out now,” you told him, not giving him a chance to even see you off. You hoped that you could quickly walk off your embarrassment.

Putting out the cig, he trailed behind you. There were so many things he wanted to say. 

“Wait!” He tried to call out. It only made you walk faster. “I wanted to,”–The front door slammed as he stood in the hallway–“at least kiss you goodbye.”

---

“‘Scuse me!” You called out in a hurry, pushing past two guys to make sure you caught the elevator down. Your walk of shame started now, and the fact that you didn’t even fuck made it even worse.

“Man,” Usahara commented, glancing back to make sure you weren’t waiting by the lift, “hope she’s not late for work. It’s past noon.”

“Probably is,” Kumatani shrugged, trying to think of why you looked so familiar. Nothing came to mind. “Oh well. Think Uramichi will let us in? He hasn’t answered any of our calls or texts, so I hope he didn’t forget about today.”

Swinging the bag of alcohol he brought, Usahara laughed. “That dude? No way! I bet this is the only thing he’s got goin’ on for the weekend. Well, this, and hitting up the gym.” 

The door opened to reveal an exhausted Uramichi, now dressed in athleisure as he quickly tidied up his apartment. Thankfully, his phone’s ringer was on, and he saw the texts in their group chat.

“Yo dude, you look like death,” Usahara said first, pushing his way past the disgruntled man to throw some drinks in the fridge.

There was something off about their senpai and his place, but he couldn’t place what. Kumatani felt it too.

“Yeah, more so than usual. You sure you’re still up to watch this movie?”

Uramichi sighed, closing the door. “Well, you’ve already made yourselves at home, haven’t you? Even if I said no, I don’t think you would leave.”

Settling into his spot at the table, Uramichi thought about how last night you were across from him sharing a drink. Now you were replaced by his meddlesome kouhais who were making a mess of all the snacks and drinks they laid out on the table. His eye twitched.

Naturally, Usahara was the first to dig into Uramichi’s odder than ordinary behavior. Usually he was annoyed, but today he seemed standoffish and annoyed. “So what gives, man? You stayed up late partying? Someone took too long on your fave machine at the gym?”

Oddly, Utano’s voice cheerfully saying that friends tell each other everything popped into his head. Perhaps now was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the guys he spent nearly a decade hanging around.

“Nah, was up late drinking with a friend,” he admitted while looking off at the TV screen.

His two juniors exchanged looks. They left before he did, deciding to hang out with Nekota at Cat Kick, so Uramichi couldn’t have been talking about them.

“Oh, I didn’t know that you and Kikaku were close like that,” Kumatani said.

Huh? Kikaku? Why would they bring up his name? Uramichi imagined the offense that Kikaku would have at their misunderstanding.

“No, I didn’t drink with Kikaku.”

“Uebu then?”

An even more outlandish suggestion.

“No…”

Neither cared to take anymore guesses as the opening credits for Mozphoon played. Kumatani swore to them that this B-grade horror movie would become a cult classic. After all, had anyone seen a movie that involved mutant mosquitoes terrorizing the city via a typhoon before?

As they were about to leave, Usahara finally realized the cause of the odd vibe he felt at Uramichi’s. 

“Dude, did you finally put away your weights?”

Yeah, for the first time in forever, he hadn’t stubbed his toe or tripped over the damn thing. That had to be why things felt different today.

---

With his friends gone, Uramichi sighed. Normally he cleared his head by smoking, but right now, he surprisingly wasn’t in the mood. Perhaps it was because today drained him. He stripped down to his boxers and laid in bed, closing his eyes. His thoughts wandered back to you.

Your tits, your lips, the way that you laughed. He imagined the way your panties would feel against his palms while he grabbed your ass. His ears burned red whenever you said his name.

His raging hard on provided an obvious solution to help him gather his thoughts.

Palming himself, he wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant. Was it because it was you ? His sex drive was low–a deadly combo of stress, depression, drinking, smoking, and the inevitable drop of T that came with aging–and when he actually was in the mood, he usually browsed for sites. It felt wrong to do this without your permission, but this also wasn’t necessarily something he could ask permission for.

“Michi? Aren’t you gonna come?” You asked, giving him that soft, buzzing smile. 

When his hand laid still against his cock, you tilted your head and spoke in an impatient inflection, “Well?”

God, he was pathetic. You didn’t even mean it like that, and here he was, harder than he’d ever been in recent memory, cockhead dripping pre when he finally pulled it out. 

It wasn’t even your looks that were driving him crazy. It was the way you made him feel. His heart pounded in his ears when you called his name. He grew giddy when he’d see your texts. And when it was just you and him–

Smearing the pre down his shaft, he let his mind wander, no longer caring how desperate and needy he got. It was already obvious that he neglected his needs as a man for too long. Every stroke felt like heaven, and his balls ached, ready for release.

Adjusting his grip to the way he liked, he tugged, wishing you were the one touching him instead. Uramichi thought of you greeting him good morning and good night, calling to tell him that you missed him during the day. He thought of you getting ready for work and welcoming him home after he was done at his. 

Carefully reaching down to grab his shirt from the floor, he used it to wipe up the mess he made. After, he stared at the ceiling, waiting for that post-nut clarity to go into effect. And when it didn’t, he sighed, his hand wandering downwards. Guess he’d have to try again.

A/N: Not sure what's gotten into me. I never update this quickly lol. Maybe it's because I've been binging the men's gymnastics portion of the Olympics? But thanks for reading, ya'll. I've been having a lot of fun with this fic.

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[nancypullen]

Sunday Evening

There are about ten different things I should be doing right now, but I am the queen of procrastination so here I am on the ol' blog. It was a very long week. I have such mixed feelings about the job. The people are absolutely wonderful. The work is interesting and beneficial. But the schedule is...unpleasant. Well, I say that as a person who doesn't really have a schedule. I had to ask several times if I could maybe know my work days/hours at least a week in advance. I'm there 8.5 hours but take a mandatory 1 hour unpaid lunch. So I work 7.5 hours most days, though I worked just 5 on Saturday. They are long days. I suppose I had the idea that part-time would be 20-ish hours a week. Looks like the plan is to work me just under the cut off between part/full time. Not having a set schedule in advance makes it really hard to plan any sort of normal life. For example, the Edgewaters have been asking me if I'm off on Feb. 10th to celebrate the grandgirl's 6th birthday. It's 12 days away and I still can't tell them yes or no. How can I make a doctor's appointment or even schedule a haircut? You don't call anywhere around here and get in quickly, so it would be nice to have, say, a month's schedule to reference when trying to make an appointment. I get the impression that it's not looked upon favorably if you throw a wrench in the works and request particular days off. I guess I'll ride it out and see if it gets better, maybe because I'm the newbie they're just seeing if I survive before locking me into the work calendar? Every time I asked, no one seemed to think it was a big deal. It's a big deal to me, I like to plan my life and get my ducks in a row - not knowing my works days/hours ten or twelve days out rattles me. Really hoping that part gets better.

.I'm a minimum of twenty yeas older than everyone at work, thirty years older than most of them. I feel like a fossil. Actually, the director is around my age, but she has put in her retirement notice. So I show up in my old lady glory and try not to grunt or groan when I get up from shelving books on the lowest shelf. I've had to move boxes, tables, racks of chairs, wood and glass bookcases and pretend that my sciatica isn't flaring up. There is a lot of ibuprofen involved. This is how I feel there...

but they're all nice to me because their mamas raised them to respect their elders. I was at the circulation desk one morning and talking to another employee who is not yet thirty. I realized that I could easily be her grandmother.

The eternal optimist in me says to keep plugging away and everything will settle into place and I'll just be the nice old lady at the library. The part of my brain that always yells, "FLEE! You don't belong here!" is screaming in my ear. Luckily, the eternal optimist occupies about 90% of my gray matter, so she usually wins. Onward, onward, onward. I mentioned that on Saturday I was off work at 2 o'clock. Shortly after that the Edgewaters came over and brought their pizza oven. That was a treat. They made gourmet pizzas for our dinner and we had a wonderful visit. Little Miss kept me busy with Barbies and books, and I plied her with cupcakes. They left today around 3 o'clock and the mister and I are sitting here now wondering if we even want to bother with dinner tonight. I'm ready for bed. The workweek is staring me in the face and I'm not ready. Have I whined enough? I swear I'm not unhappy, just tired. I'd give my right arm for 5 hour work days (like Saturday) instead of 8.5. Mickey has been amazing - actually cleaning and cooking! I have no reasons to complain. So I should probably shut up. That said, we're moving forward and starting to plan a 40th anniversary trip. I'm crossing my fingers that they'll grant me unpaid leave. As a part-time employee I don't accrue vacation days, so I guess we'll see how all of that plays out. Yikes.

I'm boring myself sick with this post and I can't imagine that it's been at all interesting or entertaining to read. I'll wait a couple of days and try to post something worth reading. There have been amusing incidents at the library, but I hesitate to write about any of it because this is a small town and my name is on the blog. I'll have to find my way with that. I certainly wouldn't name names or embarrass anyone. Oh well, I'm off to ready my clothes for work and pack a lunch. I'll try to keep a Mary frame of mind. No one I work with would get that reference.

I'm so old.

*sigh* Until next time - stay safe, stay well. Sending out loads of love. XOXO, Nancy

[pacificglovebox]

Jyn Work Infodump Post - Public Accounting

I've talked in the past (in at least one post) about how I work in the United States Tax Return Preparation industry. So this post is about the industry and specifically Public Accounting and why I am planning to leave this segment of the accounting industry in the next year.

If you are thinking about entering this industry, I ask you to please read further for a warning. I have a hard time saying run away, but RUN AWAY from this industry! Find something else, work in private accounting, or if you truly decide to join Public Accounting have a good therapist who you will see.

A few points of note that I do want to appreciate with my job and specifically my current employer - as they have done their best to help me in and out of the job and I am grateful

I recognize I am well-off due to my job and my pay is above the median for my "position" (slight annoyance since I am technically doing work in the level above mine but not yet been promoted to that level - my pay low for that level so idk)

I do have some very nice perks in my job such as generous vacation benefits, sick leave, and the ability to work from largely anywhere

My job, and especially bosses, are very flexible and have been really done what they can to help me grow professionally and where possible personally

I genuinely have some really fun coworkers to work with (i'll admit i know nothing about sports when they talk about it) and I enjoy eating lunch with them most days

Okay now that I have shared the reasons that I am grateful I want to share some reasons that public accounting, at least to me, is not an industry that I believe I can continue working in too much longer.

1. The Hours and Stress

The hours in this industry are known for being horrible, especially during the annual tax season *coughs this time of year* with around 60 - 80 hours a week and an average 2200-2400 hours a year [Source: Anecdotal Evidence through myself and others I know in the industry]... I believe that we should not be working more than 24-32 hours a week and even during a busy season at work we should not work more than 50 hours. In our off seasons we practically do no work and the following gif really hits deep, but I still have to justify what I'm doing in the off season.

Public Accounting has a really big issue with burnout and I have felt this, as I stated above, at least one a year but regularly entering a burnout cycle twice a year. This is in large part due to the hours and the toll the job puts on the staff. The other major part is the fact that this job is really stressful and it really should not be that way. Below I outline several of the major stressors that the industry is experiencing and how I personally have felt about them.

2. The Staffing Shortage

Accounting and specifically Public Accounting has a Staffing Shortage to a very severe degree. I think it was like 75% of the current CPA's are looking to retire in the very near future [Source]. This is really worrisome as students right now are, very rightfully so, not entering the industry and I am not alone in deciding to leave the industry [Source]. You may ask would having enough students go into the industry help? No.

The fact is the industry has access to a labor market, and has been recently taking advantage of it, through the hiring of individuals in foreign countries (foreign meaning non-United States). This does not solve the issue with the shortage. We are short on the experienced staff and manager level. We are missing the individuals who typically would train new staff. This is yielding in staff who are being pushed quicker and quicker into dealing with more complex returns in the tax preparation industry and thus the younger staff are burning out faster than they used to before.

On a personal level, I am a more experienced staff and I am someone who fields the majority of questions from staff and interns at my workplace. I rarely can find a moment to get my own work done during the "typical" workday so I end up having to work more hours in order to get my work done. I have worked at times until 2 or 3 am in the morning in order to get my work "done" only to have to do it again the next day. I am burning out because the work that is "too" complex for my staff is something that I have to do. I do not even feel ready to work on those items.

3. The Workplace, Conservative History, and Clients

I do enjoy my workplace for the things I listed above, but there are plenty of gripes I have about it too. First is while we are on an annual basis generally losing more staff than we hire, the bosses are taking on more clients than we are losing in a year. The driving factor is one word only... profits

Other gripes include the fucking bureaucracy apparently required to do my job. I get a decent bit of freedom to be in charge of my work, as long as it gets one, but just fuck it's so annoying to have to fill out a stupid form every time we don't make a profit or 'good enough' profit on a tax return. I have staff with not enough training, I am exhausted trying to train them, and I am told I have to now fill out a form when I still have so much other work to do.

Additionally, don't we all love an industry known for being stuffy, white, and conservative? If you haven't seen my blog before (how did you get here? thank you for reading this far - hope you enjoy this post), I am a Trans Lesbian and I feel like I cannot come out in this industry. Like I know logically most people would not give a single fuck, but that doesn't mean the industry is welcoming. If anything it is more like my dad's church and realizes us gays exist but would rather I try shut up and to fit in the box and get work done.

The last part I want to gripe about here is the clients. I love interacting with the majority of my clients, but like 10% of them are the worst. I have to beg my bosses to "fire" some clients (firing a client is what it sounds like, we no longer will serve them). I had to beg for two years to fire a client that was mentioned by name in about seven people's exit interviews after they quit. This one client was so nasty to everyone that tried to help them. Like this one client, the majority of clients who are in this 10% are the ones who treat me like i'm a "bad" person. Look I get you hate paying taxes... I agree with you on some level (I like paying some taxes when I know the taxes go into helping my local community or helping people) but do not take it out on me and yell at me on the phone or send me an email yelling at me. I am trying to help you and work with your best interest in mind and this often means trying to help you minimize taxes, penalties, and interest you will have to pay to the government.

4. The Legal/Political Environment

The government does not care. The politicians do not care. The IRS especially does not care. They ruin your life if you do not pay. I have known people who have not paid their taxes (either on purpose or cannot pay them) have a warrant put on them and taken to jail. Just for not paying taxes owed. I do not care too much if this happens to the person who could pay but refuses out of the principal of it. I get mad when it happens to someone who could not afford to pay and used the last dollar to put food on the table for their kids. It genuinely is fucked up that this can happen - I will make a caveot that I have not seen this happen often and not from Federal or State Tax agencies (not that it is not possible, I'm frankly unaware) but rather Cities who should be most fucking understanding since that is your neighbor.

Other huge reasons the government and politicians do not care is that they actively choose to play the stupid political game and make things more difficult for everyone else. They have and will continue to pass laws effecting years already passed forcing us to go back and redo returns. This is fine in our slow season, but they do it during the busiest part of the year! Fuck the government! It is nothing more than a game to them and I wish i could opt out of this system.

Taxes should be easier. Like it should be easy enough since the government already receives a lot of your information, but not everything. The reason the government does not get everything is politics. Politics and the fact that the government wants to control our actions has resulted in the complicated tax code that tries to incentivize or punish you into following what they want you to do. I can talk in another post about this... i feel this is getting too long and ranty.

Basically, if you have just wages from a W-2 Job you should just be able to receive a refund from the government without filing. They know exactly how much you earned, your age, and really everything else they need to know. The only thing you would need to inform them of is your filing status, but I personally think we should not have separate filing statuses. Just another way the government tries to force us to fit a "standard" and I do not like it. I could start another rant about this, but won't for now.

I think the reason they make you file a return is to so they can keep your money when you choose not to. There are free filing tools I will link them in another post [Here] (link not yet added, please come back I'll update with a hyperlink) that allow you to file and not pay for the privilege to request your money be given to you.

Whew that was a lot but you made it - congrats the following gif is for you! I think that sums up my thoughts and a few additional rants added in for a little spice. I just feel unfulfilled in my job and I’m constantly stressed and I hope I find something new soon.

[bambirex]

Hi Bambi so I been meaning to request idk Eddie very sick with like anemia like out of nowhere he disappears stoped going to family video stopped going to school and when Dustin goes to the trailer park Wayne and him are never there, and Max is also never there or in school and everyone don’t know what to think what’s going on till one day Steve and Robin go to the trailer park and find Wayne and Max and they were like really sad with tears in their eyes and they explain to Robin and Steve what’s going on with Eddie and they feel so bad because they didn’t really reach out for Eddie for like a month and they didn’t realise the guy was sick and he was in the hospital and so for a week he wouldn’t leave Eddie alone and idk after he leaves the hospital he stays with Steve and they start being more than friends maybe kiss but like make it as if Eddie was really sick idk hahaha cheers thanks legend for your awesome writing always 💗💗💗🫶

Thanks so much for the compliment, you're so sweet 💕

Warnings: mention of hospitals

*

For almost an entire month, no one has seen Eddie. No one has even known anything about his whereabouts, and that was more than concerning.

After everything that happened the year before - the killings, the demobats, Vecna, an entire town hunting an innocent teenager - it was really not good that Eddie Munson disappeared.

Steve was just about going crazy. His friends tried to calm him, but nothing worked. He was growing certain that something horrible has happened to Eddie, and that it was somehow all his fault. He blamed himself for Eddie getting gravely injured in the Upside Down, and after that, he made a promise he would look out for him. Now, he felt like he failed at his duty.

Dustin has checked the trailer park, but still no sign of Eddie. Even Max seemed to have disappeared into the abyss, and that was another good reason for Steve to go into several panic attacks per day. He couldn't handle this anymore. He needed to do something, he needed to find his friends and make sure they were okay.

"There must be an explanation, Steve," Robin tried to calm him on the way to the trailer park. Steve decided he wanted to look into this whole mess himself. "Maybe he just went on vacation with Wayne."

"The Munsons don't go on vacations. Something horrible has happened, shit!" Steve slapped the steering wheel, anger and panic bubbling in his chest. "I can't believe this is happening again..."

It was their luck that finally, Wayne and Max showed up. Otherwise Steve would have lost his remaining mind.

"He isn't hurt," Max explained when her friends anxiously ambushed her, "and neither am I. I've just been helping out Wayne at the hospital."

"He's in the hospital?" Steve asked, dread settling in his stomach. Wayne sighed deeply.

"Kid's got really bad anemia. He's been fainting and getting sick lately. We thought some medicine might help, but it didn't. He's very weak."

"This is all my fault," Steve groaned, rubbing at his eyes that welled with tears. "I promised him that I would look out for him, and then he gets sick, and I don't even notice?"

"This wasn't your responsibility only," Robin told him softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "We should all have done better."

"I think he would be very happy if you went to see him at the hospital," Max said, giving Steve a reassuring smile.

Now, that Steve could do. If he weren't there for Eddie all this while, he would make sure he would be alright now.

*

"Steve, I'm not dying," Eddie laughed weakly. "Stop crying, hey."

"I'm so sorry," Steve sighed, wiping his eyes. "I should have noticed you were getting sick."

"It's not your job to look out for me," Eddie reassured him, reaching for his hand. "I'm not mad at you."

"I am. Mad at myself, I mean. I'm not leaving your side ever again."

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Eddie teased, making Steve finally laugh. Okay, if Eddie still had his sense of humor, that meant he was going to be alright.

*

As he promised, Steve stayed there for Eddie. The nurses were absolutely fed up with him by that point, which amused Eddie to no end. Of course, he was very happy that he wasn't alone.

Steve was always at his side, holding his hand and sometimes even reading him when Eddie struggled to fall asleep. Poor guy looked worse by the end of the week than the actually sick Eddie, as he completely wore himself out to make sure Eddie was alright.

Soon, Eddie started feeling better, and he was sure it wasn't just the medication, but Steve's presence. Everything was better and easier when Steve was there.

The night before Eddie was released from the hospital, Steve slept by his side, curled up as small as possible on the bed to make sure Eddie had the bigger space. His lashes fluttered in his sleep, his mouth was slightly open, and as Eddie watched him, he knew that it was really Steve, who healed him.

Because right now, he also didn't want Steve to leave his side ever again.

[indigo-rants]

My step brother leaves for college on Monday, August 19th...

We had tried to leave for a vacation to leave him due to the things he's done since we got custody of him in like 2020ish. He's done a lot, like more than I'd ever be able to explain adn remember. I'm going to make a post, this post, explaining what he's done (I will probably be forgetting some things due to it being 4 years of history).

In no specific order:

going to porn websites (knowingly) on school issued Ipads (in adn out of school)

watching porn videos on said ipads (in and out of school)

staring at random girls in his class while sitting at his desk doing "nothing" (both actually doing nothing and doing a certian thing while drooling)

going to twitter on his school issued ipad IN SCHOOL and looking up "teacher porn" and "step sister porn" (I am his step sibling, afab)

breaking my mother's special chocolate candy container that NO ONE should touch given it's on her hand made china cabinet

touching things on my mother's hand made china cabinet

staring at me and my bf when he first moved in (we had to keep the door open adn he'd just stand there, in the door way, watching us, this happened in 2021, we had a curtain put up before parents and I switched rooms adn bf got his own place)

staring at mom, me, anyone, and not talking, just staring

refusing to help mom with stuff when he ahd been told by step dad to help previously

using phone for internet stuff when it had a severe parental lock

breaking his phone's parental lock (multiple times)

using the ipad for porn and youtube not needed for schoolwork (due to the porn issues he was banned from using the ipad, got it back for "schoolwork only" adn even coiuld only use it in class with a specific teacher, he still managed to not listen, many times)

Used his phone to try to get to a porn site (parental lock said no)

tried making an account on said site (also no) including making an account with pics of himself (which yes, he did manage to send the pics, kinda)

doing all of this while in high school/ as a MINOR

doing all of this, including having pics of himself, and being brought to the cops to be told why doing ANY OF THAT (making a porn account and sending such pics over the internet) is dangerous/could lead him in jail

still going to the porn sites and getting those kind of images from friends over text after being talked to by cops

Staring at his half sister while she slept "attempting to wake her up for school" I was home adn happened to come out as I saw him looming over her (he has been told before to elave her the FUCK alone, so no this is not something he's usually doing) he did this as our parents had JUST left the room for a cigarette, literally minutes after.

yelling at mom telling her to fuck off when she was telling him to cut his crap and stop lieing about what he'd been doing on his phone (lieing about his activity adn wether he'd "actually done it" has been a point of her yelling at him and step dad before, not new, yelling back was at the time, but he's done it several times since adn step dad, even with a broken leg, has had to physically step in)

walking up to sister's room in the middle of the night creeping outside of it after midnight, not knocking on the door, just standing outside of it (sis has a lock on the door now, has since he did it, he did it multiple times unfortunately)

going into sis's room when she was sick "to ask her if she needed the bathroom so he could shower" (all she could remember is waking up to his face directly in front of her adn him slowly backing away adn out of the room)

staring at me in my room while passing by my door after I'd come back from being gone for a few weeks (after the twitter search discovery I avoided the house for a bit)

Being in the house without step dad or both parents being in the house with him (after staring at me and the issues with sis he'd lost all ability to be in the house alone with us, even with sis being upstairs)

he's been at a family friends' place for most of this year due to his actions, we took him back for a small bit after the failed vacation, but sent him back after he and mom nearly physically fought and he'd been denied from the mental hospital for the third or fourth time now (we've tried sending him away a few times, but because things were "fine by the time he was brought in" or he "wasn't bad enough" he wasn't able to go in, even when he threatened to hurt himself IN FRONT of the docs).

I know I'm forgetting some stuff adn will probably add some in comments on here, but yeah that's the main stuff I can currently remember while typing. Anyone who knows us adn him will recognise from this post who I am, sure, but I'm fairly certain my 50+ yr old fam friend isn't on tumblr and our neighbor friends don't know us enough for us to infodump this on them (though mom's current "bestie" could be here, but I highly doubt she's looking down the rant/vent post tags).

Honestly I'm more writing this for me, and for if I ever need to remember certain moments for court. Cause yes if I ever have to I will testify this fucker in court and bring shit down on him fresh into college. he's moving out and is an adult 100%, I do NOT care about the bastard, never did, never will!!!!

And no that doesn't mean I hated him from the get go, I just never cared for him before, he was a kid who my step dad had wasted thousands on lawyers for to try to get custody of when we were all in school before ending up with him adn his half brother (who is another can of worms, but not as bad as this, like the kid just smoked adn stole some stuff, not that bad) in our custody for a lil while and now with us having this bastard and it being the worst desicion anyone of us has made. Like before having him live with us I just saw him as one of my step brothers who, besides being name dropped occassionally, never had a personal connection with any of us. I had the same opinions on him as I would a stranger "he's a living, breathing human" literally that was it... then he entered our house and our lives properly with no sign of ever going back to his mother.

[aquietwritingcorner]

You Said You'd Never Leave

Title: You Said You’d Never Leave Day: Whumptober Day 10 Prompt: “Can you see that you’re lost without me?” Broken phone/Stranded/”You said you’d never leave.”  Fandom: Mystic Messenger Word Count: 2584  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T  Characters:  Jumin Han, Jaehee Kang Warning: NA Summary:  When Jaehee doesn’t show up for work on Monday, Jumin is, naturally, concerned. Couple that with a disagreement the Friday before, and then a natural disaster, and Jumin starts to realize just how important Jaehee is in his life.   Notes: This takes place post-the original game, although I had no particular route in mind. Just a sort of loose amalgamation where they all in up in better situations, and MC just ends up as friends with them all. Saeren is not mentioned because, honestly, he’s not that important to Jumin at this time.   AO3 || ff.net

_____________________________________

You Said You’d Never Leave

“Where is she?” Jumin Han’s gaze was laser focused on the employee in front of him, watching as the man paled and began to sweat.

“W-we don’t know, sir,” he stammered out.

“And why don’t you know?” Jumin said again, his voice cold.

The employee looks as if he’d rather be any place but there. He shook his head. “We—we sent someone over to Assistant Kang’s apartment to check on her, b-but no one answered. The employee that went got the landlord, explaining why we were concerned. When—when we went inside, Assistant Kang wasn’t there. N-neither w-was her purse or suitcase. It looked like she, um, like she left, sir.”

Jumin’s eyes narrowed. “Then find out where she went and bring her back,” he demanded.

The employee only looked more nervous. “We’re-we’re trying. B-but with the recent disaster things are harder.”

Jumin stood to his full height and leaned over his desk, eyes snapping with anger. “Harder isn’t impossible. Find her.”

The employee jumped. “Y-yes, sir!” he said and scurried out of the room.

It was only once the door had closed that Jumin sat down and let out a heavy breath. He was… worried. Assistant Kang had never been late for work. The few times she had become ill or there had been a delay, she had let him know immediately. This time, however, there was radio silence, and Jumin didn’t know what to do about that. He never should have let her leave on Friday as she did. Jumin sighed and put his head in his hand as he thought about it.

“What is this?” Jumin looked up from the paper that was on his desk.

“A vacation request, sir,” Assistant Kang said.

“I can see that,” Jumin replied. “But why have you put one in?”

“I do not believe that I am required to answer that,” Assistant Kang answered.

“No,” he said, frowning, “you are not. But neither am I required to grant it.”

Assistant Kang stood there for a moment before she spoke again. “I need two guaranteed days off. I require them for a personal matter. Therefore, I have put in for this weekend.”

Jumin’s frown grew. He knew of no personal matter that she had coming up—and he knew a great deal about Assistant Kang “We have several projects coming due next week,” he said. “As well as research for a new cat themed shopping store to conduct.”

“I will have all of the work for C&R’s business projects completed,” she said. “As for the cat project, I will attend to it when I get back.”

Jumin stood, taking the form and folding it over. “Request denied,” he said. “We have work to do.”

Assistant Kang’s shoulder’s squared slightly. “Then I will take sick days,” She immediately shot back.

“Those are only for when you are unwell, Assistant Kang,” Jumin said.

“Sir, not to be disrespectful, but if I do not have some time off, then I will be unwell.” Her words were professional, but her tone was sharp and cutting. “I need time off, and all I am asking for is two days—two days in which most of our employees are already off.” Her gaze met his, steely in its resolve. “Whether it’s vacation days or sick days, I am taking them. After this Friday, I will see you on Monday, sir.”

Jumin frowned, her brashness raising his own stubbornness. True, they had been closer lately, and had a more open working relationship, but there were still lines—and Jumin felt that this was one of them. “Assistant Kang, this is unprofessional,” he said.

She paused in the door. “I am sorry, Mr. Han. But this is something that I must do.”

Jumin had been fuming, and he had been sure that she knew it. He had thrown work at her, given her assignments and been extra cold to her. And yet, she hadn’t budged. And now? Now it was Monday, and she was nowhere to be found.

However, if he could not locate her, there might still be someone else who could. The others on the messenger had, of course, heard about the little altercation that he and Assistant Kang had, and they had not been happy with him or his response. They had, in fact, been supportive of her, and he had, admittedly, sulked over it. He had, in return, stayed mostly off of the messenger over the weekend.

But now was not the time for hurt pride. Not when she was missing. Not when one of them might have a vital piece of information that could help.

Jumin Han has logged on.

ZEN: Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Slave Driver himself. Come to tell us that you’re holding Jaehee hostage?

Yoosung: :O

Yoosung: Do you really think he’d do that?

707: Hm, sources indicate that he’d be the type to do that to a lovely young woman XD

Yoosung: O_o

ZEN: …that is not something I want to think about. Gross.

MC: Is Jaehee doing alright, Jumin? We’ve not heard from her in a few days.

Jumin Han: That is why I’m here. Have any of you heard from Assistant Kang?

ZEN: What do you mean? Wasn’t she supposed to come back today?

Jumin Han: She was. However, she has not returned.

Jumin Han: I sent people over to her apartment, but they report that she was not home and that her suitcase was gone.

Jumin: No one seems to know where she went.

707: …

707: I’m on it.

MC: I hope she’s all right.

Yoosung: Me too :(

Jumin Han: Please let me know when you have any information.

707: Right.

Jumin Han has logged off.

Jumin put his phone down. If anyone could find her, it would be Luciel. He was most thorough. Besides, there was nothing more that Jumin could do. He had put all of his pieces into place. Now he just had to wait for results.

For the next few hours, Jumin attended to business as best he could. It took two assistants to replace Assistant Kang for the day, and they were still less efficient than she was, especially with the relief efforts C&R was sending to the disaster site. It didn’t help that he was distracted by his worry for Assistant Kang. As the day stretched on, his worry grew, and not just for his assistant, but for his friend.

Jumin was loathe to admit it, but he had few friends. Jihyun was one of his only true friends and Rika had been as well, although now Rika was in a rehabilitation center and Jihyun was in seclusion. But over the years, although their relationship was professional, Jumin and Assistant Kang—Jaehee—had become closer.

In his mind, they were friends, of a sort. She was always there when he needed her, and she was almost always by his side. She wasn’t afraid to call him out on things, although she was often quite tactful in how she did it. She worried over him. He, likewise, tried to be there when she needed it, although he could admit he did a very poor job of that. He had, since MC had come along and made him realize a few things, tried not to overwork Jaehee, and he had always worried about her, often sending her food on long workdays and working just as hard as her when it came to overtime. He’d tried his hardest to be a better boss.

Except…

Except he hadn’t been doing that recently, had he? He had promised her that he would change things, and for a while he had. It had even made for an easier relationship between the two of them. She had confessed to him that she had been thinking about leaving C&R and striking out on her own, but after he had adjusted her working conditions, she had said that she was quite happy and didn’t want to leave. Jumin had been pleased.

And then he had fallen back into old patterns. He could see that now, and mentally cursed himself for it. What if this had been the last straw for her? She had needed time off, and he had denied it. What if she had left, even after saying that she wouldn’t? What if she was leaving?

The idea hit Jumin harder than he wanted to admit. Jaehee had become a cornerstone, a foundational piece in his world. With his mother and father going back to their on again, off again relationship and the void left by Rika and Jihyun, Jaehee had become a stable, steady presence in his life, and one that he didn’t want to lose. She’d said she wouldn’t leave. But what if he had driven her away? The idea set off a bit of panic in him, even if he’d never admit to it.

Jumin’s phone beeped, interrupting his thoughts, and he pulled it out, seeing a message from the chat. He quickly logged on.

Jumin Han has logged on.

Jumin Han: You have news for me?

707: Yes, but it’s not good news.

MC: Oh no.

Yoosung: Is Jaehee alright?!

ZEN: What did you find out?

707: I traced Jaehee’s phone and followed that up with other means to see where she went.

707: She got on a train Friday night.

707: Did you hear about that flood and mudslide that happened?

Jumin Han: I did.

707: …

ZEN: Seven, what aren’t you telling us?

707: That’s the last place I tracked her phone to. It went offline about that time. And I’ve not found any other trace of her since.

Jumin put his phone down. He could feel it vibrating with the others’ comments, hear the ding of messages, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Yes, he knew about that. A dam had burst, causing massive amounts of flooding, and creating mudslides on top of that. It had happened over the weekend—over the time that Jaehee was gone. There were thousands dead. They were still trying to perform as many rescues as possible. C&R had sent what help they could to the area.

Would one of those find Jaehee Kang? Would they turn up her body and send it back? Would she have died alone, as she feared?

His phone gave a large buzz, and Jumin looked back down at it. Apparently, the others had been trying to get his attention.

Jumin Han: Apologies. I was… taking in the news.

707: I’m going to keep looking, alright? Until we know one way or another, I won’t give up.

MC: I’m going to go pray for her.

ZEN: I might go visit a temple.

Yoosung: Can I come with you?

ZEN: Yeah, sure. I’ll come pick you up.

Jumin Han: I will keep my resources looking as well.

Jumin Han: Thank you.

Jumin Han has logged off.

Jumin sat back and took a deep breath. There was no evidence yet that Jaehee was dead. So, until he had information to the contrary, he would keep believing that she was alive. That, however, was easier said than done. The next two days passed slowly, especially as no word came of Jaehee. Jumin worked, but it was obvious that all of C&R was waiting with bated breath to see what word would come. All of the RFA tried to keep their spirits up, but it grew harder each day they went without any word about her.

And then, suddenly, Jumin’s office phone rang. He picked it up only to have a very excited and panicked employee on the other end, saying that Jaehee had appeared in the lobby of the building. Jumin immediately hung up and practically ran to the elevator, heading down to the lobby as fast as he could. An employee was waiting by it, pointing Jumin towards Jaehee, not that she was hard to find. There was a small group gathered around her, although they parted to let Jumin through.

“Assistant Kang,” he said.

She looked up at him, and it was all he could do not to pull back in surprise. She looked rough. Her hair was messy, looking as though it had been, at best, finger combed, and she had lost her glasses. Her clothes had dirt and mud on them, and her shoes were covered. Her suitcase was banged up and dirty, and she looked exhausted.

“Get her something to drink,” he said. “Call my personal doctor. Get Driver Kim to bring my car around,” he ordered. People jumped to do as he said, and he turned back to Jaehee. “Assistant Kang, what happened? We thought that you were caught in the floods.”

Jaehee accepted the water that someone brought her gratefully.

“Almost,” she said. “I left on Friday night to travel to the city my father was from. I was going to visit my parents’ graves. I was on the other side when the dam broke, and the floods hit. It damaged the tracks and the roads, leaving me stranded. The cell service was impacted, too, and prevented me calling. By the time it was restored, it was reserved for emergency services only. I still tried to call, but in the process my phone was broken. After that, it was a series of complicated events involving being bussed and shuttled from place to place with other displaced individuals.”

“But how did you end up here?” one of the employees asked.

“They were trying to find ways for us to get home, and it was taking far too long. I knew that C&R was closer, so I came here first,” Jaehee said. “I thought I would go home afterwards.”

“Absolutely not,” Jumin said. “You are going to be checked out by my doctor before anything else.”

“Driver Kim is here!” Someone called.

“Help me get her and her things to the car,” Jumin said. “Cancel all my appointments for the day.”

“You don’t have to do that—” Jaehee said, but she stumbled as she stood.

“Yes, I do,” Jumin said firmly as he caught her.

Jaehee was escorted to the car, and Driver Kim drove them to the penthouse. Jumin’s doctor was waiting for them there, where he gave Jaehee a thorough check up, prescribing rest, fluids, and food for the next week. While the doctor was busy with that, Jumin loaded the chat.

Jumin Han has entered the chat.

MC: Jumin! Any news?

Jumin Han: Yes. Assistant Kang has returned.

Yoosung: She has? That’s great!

ZEN: Is she okay?

Jumin Han: My personal doctor is looking her over. However, he says that rest is the best thing for her now. She’ll have a week off.

707: Good for her!

Jumin Han: She has also broken her phone, so do not expect her on the messenger until her phone is replaced.

Jumin Han: I will pass your well wishes onto her.

Jumin Han has logged off.

Jumin looked up from the phone, watching as his staff worked on making sure that Jaehee was cared for and settled in one of his guest bedrooms, and breathed a sigh of relief. Jaehee was fine. She was safe, back where she belonged, and she hadn’t left.

However, as he walked to her room, to make sure that she was comfortable and had all that she needed, Jumin made a promise, if only to himself. He was going to be a better boss—and a better friend.

He’d make sure of it.

[mentalhellthprofessional]

It's been a year and a half now since I lost my mom to cancer and honestly having a real rough go of it this week.

I've been thinking a lot about how truly fucked up our healthcare system is. This topic is nothing new, I've reblogged far more succinct posts, but it coming up on what would have been her birthday and possible retirement, it just hits home. She worked so hard all her life between 2 jobs, never taking vacations nor sick leave, and raising a family. Then she spent her last year working while on chemo just to keep her health insurance in order to survive. When the treatment stopped working, we spent most of her last few months navigating the needlessly complex song and dance of "extended leave" to keep some form of insurance, let alone keep the life insurance that was threatened by several gotcha stipulations seemingly every week. All time she nor our family will get back. It was hard enough to process at the time being a live-in round the clock caregiver, but looking back, it's so intensely sickening and cruel that someone so entirely selfless and kind was forcibly ground down by the system. No one should be forced into financial servitude (shocking take), but while terminally ill? Spending what time you have left seeking aid? This is not the hallmark of a just system, it's deplorable, despicable, and inhumane.

My mother never got to spend her golden years with her family, working in her garden, knitting, playing Animal Crossing, traveling, nor any of the other things she enjoyed. While everyone's health is unpredictable and we're all one illness away from losing what we cherish, it is profoundly devastating to feel the full weight of just how insignificant you are in the eyes of the system. This is not critique of the hospice caregivers, they were almost entirely kind and supportive people, but man am just not feeling it today. System's fucked and it's gotta change.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Afraid to Love Again

Lady Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Heyooo. Tamayo is great, but I kind of struggle writing her. I tried anyway though because I love this demon doctor lady. Be prepared for sickness, death and a dash of angst. There is a happy ending though (my delicate heart wouldn’t be able to take it if there wasn’t)!  Also, it’s kinda a reincarnation/ soulmate kind of deal but I didn’t really develop that angle too much. And I can’t remember how much of Tamayo’s backstory was discussed in the manga vs the anime so just a heads up on that. It’s not super spoilery or anything (I think you could guess how that went) but just in case I thought I’d let y’all know. Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 6,939

The village had fallen on hard times. Work was scarce, poverty and disease was rampant. Over the past several months, (Y/n) had seen many family, friends and neighbors fall ill and never rise again. Those who had the strength to leave did, and many offered passage to (Y/n) as well. Though they were thankful for the offers of sanctuary, (Y/n) remained in their family home. They converted it into a makeshift hospital and began caring for the people who no longer could take care of themselves.

There were no doctors in their little village. The nearest, (Y/n) heard was days away. They couldn’t risk leaving all of these sick souls without someone to look after them, they would surely be dead before they could get back. If these people, their people, were going to die either way, they wanted to be there to make the process as easy as possible.

(Y/n) had seen more death and sickness than most. They had almost forgotten what it was like to truly live.

“(Y/n)-san?”

(Y/n) paused their movements wiping sweat from an old woman’s body, and turned to the cot behind them.

“Yes, Ichiro?” (Y/n) smiled kindly, though their eyes reflected just how tired they were.

“I don’t feel so good.” The young child coughed harshly.

“I know, I’m sorry. Let me get you some water.”

(Y/n) quickly finished bathing the old woman left behind by her family and tucked her in. (Y/n) suspected she’d be dead before the next morning. The rattling, gurgling breaths were just about the only sign that she wasn’t already gone.

(Y/n) put the rag in a basket to be washed for later, then they retrieved some water for the sick boy. They made their way through the sea of moaning people waiting for death, checking in with the more lucid villagers as they went.

(Y/n) was caring for thirty-seven people in their ancestral home and they did so alone. Any healthy people that remained in the village avoided the plagued building at all costs. It was hard work, keeping all of these people as comfortable as they could. But compared to the seventy people they had started with during those first weeks of winter, it was much more manageable.

“Here you go, drink as much as you can.” (Y/n) spoke softly, helping the boy sit up to receive it.

He took a few sips before spluttering, excess water slipped down his chin. He sniffed and held his throat, curling back into himself.

(Y/n) skimmed their hand over Ichiro’s burning forehead and watched him struggle forlornly.

How much longer would they all have to live in this hell?

(Y/n)’s question, however rhetoric, was answered the next night.

(Y/n) groaned between blinks of sleep. They had fallen asleep while standing, again. The noise that so rudely awakened them sounded like someone was rattling the door of the main entrance.

Who could it be at this hour? Weary travelers? Surely they had a fair choice in vacated homes already. No matter, (Y/n) figured once they caught the full blast of the smell of death permeating the air they would retreat quickly enough.

They approached the door sliding it open with little preamble. Even if the smell wasn’t enough to deter the unwanted guests, surely the look of utter despair (Y/n) wore would scare them off.

“I’m afraid if you came searching for lodging, I cannot take you.” (Y/n) spoke, barely perceiving the two people before them. “There are, however, many empty homes you have passed by that you are more than welcome to help yourselves too. I would recommend to be on your way quickly, sickness is rampant here.”

“That is why I’ve come.”

(Y/n) allowed themself a puzzled face, finally looking at the woman and her stern looking companion more carefully, taking in the delicate beauty of the stranger before them.

“I’m a doctor.”

(Y/n) suddenly felt more awake, staring at the woman with unrestrained hope and awe.

“Really?” They whispered, as if afraid this was all just a dream or a sleep deprived hallucination.

“Are you doubting her?” The young man spoke up sharply.

“Yushirou.” The woman warned, leveling a look at her companion that immediately shut him back up. The woman turned back to (Y/n). The soft, empathetic look in her eyes made (Y/n) feel weak. The softness of her voice as she addressed (Y/n) again made them feel fragile, all the while they shook like a leaf.

“Allow me to evaluate your sick. I’ll do everything I can.”

“Please,” (Y/n) nodded, making room for the pair to enter their home turned sick ward, “even in my wildest dreams I never thought anyone would actually come for us. I’ve tried so hard to save these people, but I am no doctor.”

The woman came forward, gingerly taking (Y/n)’s shaking hands in her own. (Y/n) noted how cold they were but still held on to the offered hands like a lifeline.

“You’ve done well with what you have, your kindness is immeasurable. Sleep now, and leave the rest to us.”

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, suddenly feeling as if they were about to collapse. Just hearing those words was like a weight was dropped from their aching shoulders. The woman caught them before they could fall, the young man, Yushirou, let out a strangled noise of displeasure but stayed back.

“You may call me Tamayo.”

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was still dark. They assumed they must have only slept a few hours. At least, they thought so until they noticed a crack of sunlight shining between the curtains.

(Y/n) held their head in their hands and grimaced. They couldn’t even remember the last time they had slept in their own bed before now. They didn’t even remember how they got there. They sighed. It didn’t matter, they needed to get up and see how everyone was doing. They had already been negligent long enough.

(Y/n) noticed as they walked through the halls that all the curtains were drawn. They found it odd. The curtains were always kept open regularly, (Y/n) couldn’t be bothered to deal with such minor details in the grand scheme of things and they wouldn’t start now. They left the curtains closed and continued on their way.

“What are you doing up already?”

(Y/n) turned, shocked at the clear and present voice. It had been a long time since they heard someone who sounded so strong and healthy. They turned and saw a grumpy boy staring sternly at them.

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, holding on to the wall as a dizzy spell passed through them.

“Tsk, get back to bed. You clearly aren’t well.” The boy said.

“Yushirou? Did you find any— oh, awake already? You should rest more.” (Y/n) turned back down the opposite side of the hall and saw the woman who had been in their restless dreams the night before.

“You’re... You’re real?” (Y/n) asked, mostly to themself, peering at the woman with blurred vision.

“Yes,” Tamayo smiled sadly approaching (Y/n), “you don’t need to worry anymore. Yushirou and I are taking care of things. Please, rest.”

“No, wait. I want to help. Please, teach me everything you know.” (Y/n) pleaded, sliding to their knees as they gave out.

“Like you could help anyone like this. You were already way past your limits before. Stay out of Lady Tamayo’s way.” Yushirou stated harshly.

“No need to speak in such a cold manner, Yushirou.” Tamayo scolded lightly before coming to kneel at (Y/n)’s side, rubbing their back. “How about this, you rest until you are back to full health, then you may observe my work. Is this acceptable?”

(Y/n) frowned, but nodded in agreement. “Yes, thank you.”

“Of course. Yushirou, help our host back to their room please.”

Yushirou readily complied, easily picking (Y/n) up and retiring them to their room.

“And stay there this time.” He grumbled.

(Y/n) fell back asleep almost immediately and when they awoke once more, another day had come and gone. They felt a lot better, just hungry. So they got up and made their way back down the hall to see what was left of the foraging they had done a couple days prior. Hopefully, Tamayo and Yushirou were well versed in the plant life of the area and got some more.

They stopped at the sick ward first to see how things were going. Yushirou wasn’t around, but (Y/n) saw Tamayo whispering to a sick man. Whatever she had asked him, he shook his head looking a tad uncomfortable. (Y/n) moved closer and Tamayo turned, like she could sense their presence and offered a tight smile.

“You look much better. How are you feeling?” She asked.

“As good as I can be. How have things been going here?”

“I apologize, we lost three while you slept.” Tamayo informed solemnly.

“You don’t need to apologize. It means the world to us that you care to try at all.” (Y/n) replied, sincerely. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t have very much in value. Not many people would work like this for no incentive.”

“You must be one of them.” Tamayo’s eyes softened, “you could have left, but you stayed with them. You have a kind heart.”

“...Thank you.” (Y/n) rubbed the back of their neck and looked away, feeling heat gather around their cheeks.

“I just realized I don’t know your name.” Tamayo said. “How rude of me to not ask sooner.”

“It’s alright. I haven’t exactly been conscious most of the time you’ve been here.” (Y/n) let out a dry laugh, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Just (Y/n)?” Tamayo blinked.

“If I can call you Tamayo, please call me (Y/n).”

“Very well, (Y/n).” Tamayo smiled. “I have a few more people to visit with at the moment. Would you care to observe?”

“Yes, I—“ (Y/n) stomach growled before they could finish speaking, they held onto their gut, abashed.

“Oh, you haven’t eaten? You should have told me, we must keep you healthy. Come,” Tamayo guided (Y/n) to their own kitchen where Yushirou was watching over a boiling pot.

“Yushirou, when the broth is done give (Y/n) a bowl please.” Tamayo asked.

“I just finished it Tamayo-sama. I’ll get on it right now.”

(Y/n) slurped down the broth with vigor and thanked Yushirou profusely, making him blush and turn away. They fed the rest to the sick. (Y/n) had asked Tamayo and Yushirou why they hadn’t taken any for themselves to which Tamayo replied that they had already eaten not long before (Y/n) had woken up.

After a long day of absorbing any teachings Tamayo had to share, (Y/n) was sent back to bed for the night much to their dismay.

“But, I slept just recently! I can still help!” (Y/n) frowned as Tamayo ushered them back to their room.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but humans are supposed to go to sleep every night. Yushirou and I have everything under control.” Tamayo assured.

“You guys need to sleep sometime too you know.” (Y/n) retorted.

“Don’t worry, we rest in turns.” Tamayo spoke. (Y/n) couldn’t explain why, but they felt as if Tamayo was being a bit deceitful with her words. However, they let her be for now and went back to bed without anymore fuss.

When (Y/n) woke up the next morning, they were surprised to see that some of the people looked much better already. Of course they were still quite ill, but (Y/n) felt hopeful for them. Unfortunately, the man, Jiro, that (Y/n) had seen Tamayo talking to the day before had died sometime in the night. A few others seemed to be not far behind him in that aspect. Still, (Y/n) worked hard and learned everything they could about the medicines Tamayo crafted and how to distribute them.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) asked one night before being sent back to bed by the motherly woman.

“Yes, (Y/n)?”

“I was just wondering... what made you come through here? Our village hasn’t had outsiders since last spring, if even then.”

“I was simply looking for somewhere quiet to practice my craft. We were passing through when we realized this village was a little, too quite.”

“Mm, yeah... well, you’re welcome to stay. You can even live here forever if you want, I don’t mind.”

“That’s a rather, bold, offer.” Tamayo replied after a short pause. It was then that (Y/n) realized how that may have sounded and got embarrassed.

“I mean, because— sorry if that was weird. I just, it’s nice having you and Yushirou-san around. I can tell your both good people, you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!”

“You didn’t,” Tamayo had a far away look in her eye, but she still reached out to pat (Y/n)’s arm in a gesture of kindness, “I appreciate the sentiment, but it will be best for all of we take our leave once we are done here.”

“I see,” (Y/n) tried to keep the disappointment out of their voice, “we’ll just have to make the most out of the time we do have.”

“I suppose. If that is what you wish.”

Over the next several days (Y/n) noticed several odd little behaviors and happenings in their home. They went out one morning to gather certain plants and herbs for Tamayo and when the came back, they noticed a piece of paper with a strange symbol drawn on it that they had never seen before. They questioned Yushirou about it since he was the first one they saw upon returning.

Yushirou scoffed, saying it was a healing symbol and told (Y/n) under no uncertain terms that they shouldn’t look at it, much less even think about touching it. (Y/n) promised him they wouldn’t and backed away into the kitchen with their basket of herbs and a bead of nervous sweat running down their chin.

They also noticed how neither Tamayo or Yushirou appeared to ever eat or sleep when they were around. Even when (Y/n) made something as light as tea, they were refused by both travelers.

Another oddity was that Yushirou always yelled at (Y/n) for peeking through curtains to see if the sun was shining. For some reason, he and Lady Tamayo did not seem to be fond of the sun. Perhaps they were just light sensitive or burned easily. They both seemed to be very fair skinned. (Y/n) was often sent off alone on errands during the day as well. They didn’t complain though, they were happy to help in anyway they could, even if the doctor and her assistant were a bit odd.

Stranger yet was how Tamayo would speak so softly to the deathly ill who showed no signs of recovery. The soft lilt of Tamayo’s voice was not what (Y/n) found strange, they were quite enamored with its dreamlike quality. It was the soft urgency in which she spoke so quietly that always left (Y/n) curious. They only witnessed such events a few times, but they always had ended with the recipient of Tamayo’s whispered words dead mere hours later.

(Y/n) didn’t fault Tamayo for such coincidences. The good doctor probably knew who would die the second she entered the room that first night. (Y/n) figured she was just giving them some form of solace in their final hours to help them find peace.

It was one night where (Y/n) had woken up with a painful thirst for water when things became... complicated.

“We need to think about leaving soon, Tamayo-sama.” (Y/n) heard Yushirou speak as they neared the kitchen. “You have already gone past your limit of resistance by a few days.”

“I’ll be fine, Yushirou. Soon there will be a good handful of people who will have their strength back. (Y/n) still has much I can teach them... we mustn’t leave just yet.”

“The blood here is diseased and of poor quality, even if you could get some without anyone noticing, it would not be filling enough to do much good. Please my lady, let’s keep moving to the next city like we planned.” Yushirou stressed.

“I can’t Yushirou, not when these people need help that only I can adequately provide. I can go a little longer...”

(Y/n) stood still in the hall as they listened in. Tamayo needed blood? For what, a transfusion? They took a deep breath and entered the room.

“If you need blood—“

The air was suddenly knocked out of their lungs as Yushirou came forward with inhumane speed and knocked (Y/n) hard into the back wall.

“Spying? Why couldn’t you just keep your nose away from where it doesn’t belong!” Yushirou hissed, tightening his hold.

“Yushirou!” Tamayo warned, coming up behind him, willing him to loosen his grip, “don’t hurt them.”

Yushirou clicked his tongue in agitation and allowed (Y/n) to slide to the ground in a fit of gasps and coughs.

Tamayo knelt beside them and checked them over with a worried frown.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). You aren’t hurt are you?”

(Y/n) took a moment to catch their breath before answering, “I, I don’t think so.” They coughed again, “Damn Yushirou, you are a lot tougher than you look!”

Yushirou growled, but upon seeing the stern look Tamayo leveled at him he backed off and looked away, almost sheepish. He looked more like a scolded guard dog than anything else.

Tamayo turned back to (Y/n) looking forlorn, “How much did you hear?”

“You need blood or you’ll have to leave.” (Y/n) answered honestly, “If you need blood, you can have some of mine... I don’t know if it’s the right type, but if it’s what you need, I’ll be more than happy to give it to you.”

Tamayo shook her head. “(Y/n), I don’t think you understand what you are offering.”

“It’s my blood, I’ll offer it to whomever I please,” (Y/n) staggered back to their feet, “and I want to give it to you. You don’t even need to tell me what for.”

Tamayo scanned (Y/n)’s face before closing her eyes and turning away. She walked towards a nearby window and pulled open the curtains, allowing the full moonlight to glide over her skin and flowery kimono. (Y/n) swallowed thickly, clearing their throat they turned to look out the window as well. The young doctor was bewitchingly beautiful and (Y/n) could not risk missing whatever Tamayo had to say.

“Before you commit yourself to this decision, you must first understand what I am.”

“Tamayo-sama!” Yushirou called out only for Tamayo to raise her hand to call for his silence.

“...What you are?” (Y/n) cocked their head to the side, confused. “You look like a normal person to me.”

“That’s what makes a lot of my kind so dangerous.” Tamayo sighed, her eyes still trained on the moon, “Monsters in human skin. Although there are many who wear their sin in grotesque and prideful ways.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but it’s not like all humans are great people either. Like how Ichiro’s parents left him here after he got sick and still haven’t wrote back like they promised. Even if you are different from humans as you are claiming, I can’t say that your any worse than the people I know. In fact, I’d say you’re better than a lot of the people I know.” (Y/n) tried to explain.

“I’ve done more evil and unforgivable deeds in my time on this earth than I could ever atone for. Even as I work to do better I know I can’t take back all the harm I’ve caused.” Tamayo shook her head and turned to (Y/n), cupping their cheek with a chilled hand, “I’ve aided in more atrocities than you have years on this planet. Do not let what you’ve seen of me in these short weeks fool you.”

“Okay, so you’re committed to believing your evil and irredeemable, is that right?” (Y/n) grasped the hand at their cheek, holding it in their own, “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to believe that. I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’re obviously torn up about it. I can’t say someone who was pure evil would think twice about that.”

Tamayo pulled her hand away, cradling it close to her chest and turned back to the window with a slight tremble before whispering, “I’m a demon, (Y/n). I’ve turned Yushirou as well. We get by on blood these days but before then, I have killed and devoured many humans in five hundred years. Tell me now you don’t find me repulsive.”

“I don’t!” (Y/n) spoke immediately and resolutely, surprising the demon doctor and Yushirou to an extent with their resolve. “I don’t know who you were or what you were going through back then, but the Tamayo I know is kind enough to stop in some nowhere village to take care of sick people she doesn't even know while expecting nothing in return. I can’t say my word means very much in the grand scheme of things, but I don’t think you’re a monster. Monsters don’t mourn over their victims. I think you’re a good person Tamayo, worthy of my blood if you’ll just let me give it to you.”

The determined look on (Y/n)’s face made Tamayo feel as if she’d seen a specter from her past. She felt tempted to reach out again but held back, afraid of what, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell. (Y/n) took her silence as a hesitation and insisted once more, bearing their arm up to the crook of their elbow.

“Take what you two need. Please don’t make me try to do it myself.”

Tamayo closed the distance between them quickly and held (Y/n)’s arms as if she was frightened of them doing something dangerous to themself.

“Yushirou, please get the phlebotomy kit from the travel bag.” Tamayo asked softly.

Yushirou nodded. Though he was not particularly fond of how close his master was to the human, he was glad she would finally be getting some sustenance.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” (Y/n) tried to joke to lighten the mood.

“You can revoke your offer whenever you wish. If you want us to leave you may ask us to do so without fear. I promise you.” Tamayo said, nothing but sincerity in her tone.

“I’ll keep it in mind, but I’ll do no such thing. Now, I hope you don’t think it rude of me for drinking some water myself first before I get you your... beverage. It was the whole reason I was walking through in the first place.” (Y/n) said as they walked across the kitchen and fetched some water.

Tamayo’s lips curled ever so slightly into a wisp of a smile aimed at (Y/n)’s back as they drank.

***

Now that (Y/n) knew they were sheltering a couple of demons, the strange behaviors they had noted prior made more sense and they took them in stride. They loved teasing Tamayo and Yushirou about the quality of their blood. Often making Tamayo flush faintly or earn a quick jab to the chest from Yushirou that was probably harder than he should be hitting a fragile human.

They kept the knowledge of their species to themself, not wanting to stress the sick or endanger Tamayo in some way. They had since learned that the strange papers that were littered around their house were actually some kind of warding seal that Yushirou could produce to keep their presence hidden to outsiders. If all that Tamayo had told (Y/n) about the realness of demons held true, they were surprised that they hadn’t encountered them sooner. Perhaps the constant scent of death and decay had kept them at bay, figuring there was no fresh flesh to tear into.

However, that was all changing now. Of the twenty-six remaining villagers, twenty-five were making marked improvements in their health and many could even walk about the the house without being too fatigued. (Y/n) had smiled so brightly when they saw Ichiro slide out of bed one morning that they had brought a hand to their mouth in delighted shock. They couldn’t remember the last time they had smiled so earnestly. Tamayo had surprised them, taking their hand away from their mouth.

“Let your joy shine through. The light you have to share could lift anyone’s spirits. I know it has lifted mine, so don’t hide please.” Tamayo said kindly.

“Right!” (Y/n) laughed sheepishly as heat crawled up their neck. They were sure Tamayo could hear the blood rushing through their system but thankfully she was polite enough not to comment on it.

“(Y/n)-san, can you take us outside?” One of the other young children asked.

“Mhm, only for a little bit though. Don’t want to over do it now, do we?”

“Tamayo-san, do you want to come?” Ichiro asked hopefully.

“Tamayo-san is very busy. But I’m sure she’ll be happy to read you a story later. Won’t that be nice?” (Y/n) smiled, saving Tamayo from having to come up with an excuse to avoid the brightness of the spring sun.

A small group gathered and slowly made their way outside, blinking hard against the bright sun stinging their eyes. Still, they felt overjoyed. Many never thought they’d make it through the winter so they took in the scenery before them with a range of emotions.

When they returned, (Y/n) helped everyone get settled again. As they did, they noticed Tamayo speaking quietly to the young woman in the corner cot. She had been fighting against the illness for a particularly long time and had been getting worse as of late. Keeping the interaction in mind, (Y/n) made their way to the kitchens to see if Yushirou needed any assistance with lunch. Now that everyone’s appetites were returning they had to produce a bit more than they had in the past.

When everyone was fed, (Y/n) had managed to find Tamayo alone. The doctor had found the old ceremonial tea room and enjoyed the space, so naturally (Y/n) had given her permission to do with it what she liked. (Y/n) knocked and announced themself, waiting for Tamayo to beckon them in before entering.

“(Y/n), does someone need something? Do you need something?” Tamayo asked, momentarily pausing in her herb crushing to look up at them.

“No, everything seems fine right now. Although Kotori does not appear to be doing well at all.” (Y/n) sighed, kneeling across from Tamayo. “...She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” Tamayo nodded solemnly. “I gave her medicine to dull her pain, but she’ll be dead before the next morning. There is nothing more I can do for her.”

“What do you tell them?” (Y/n) asked, “I mean, I’ve noticed how you talk to the dying ones before they pass. What do you say to someone who’s dying like that?”

“Many times they already know the end is near and have accepted it. Many are relieved to know the fighting and pain is almost over for them. What I offer them... is a second chance at life.”

(Y/n)’s eyes narrowed in concentration before shooting back open. “You offered to turn them into demons, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can be, only if you don’t have someone to look out for you and remind you who you are. I would be there for them as I was for Yushirou of course.” Tamayo assured, though she looked guilty. “You must think it cruel of me to offer this cursed existence.”

“Not at all. Many people fear death. I can especially understand it from a perspective of those who have yet to truly live. As long as they can remember their humanity, I don’t have a problem with it.” (Y/n) smiled, “I’m sure with you to guide them they would be just fine.”

Tamayo blushed and got back to work, grinding her herbs.

“Though I’m surprised, has no one taken up your offer since you got here?”

Tamayo shook her head, but a small smile pulled at her lips, “No. I’m content with their choices though. I think they were all very brave choosing to face the unknown.”

“Speaking of unknown,” (Y/n) mumbled between their fingers as they watched Tamayo carefully scoop her powder into a jar before moving on to the next herb. “Everyone will be more or less back to full health soon... are you still planning on leaving?”

“(Y/n), we’ve already discussed this,” Tamayo frowned, “I was never meant to stay here.”

“But you could.” (Y/n) said, an almost frantic waver in their voice, “you taught me a lot about medicine and how to be a physician, but you’ve quite literally have hundreds of years more experience than I do. Not to mention everyone here loves you, I love you—“ (Y/n) tried to shut themself up but it was too late. As made evident by the roundness of Tamayo’s eyes.

“Oh (Y/n), I’m sorry.” Tamayo said, the pestle held in between her fingers shook.

“Don’t be sorry, just, stay?” (Y/n) stuttered. “You can forget the last part if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“This just further proves that I mustn’t be here.” Tamayo put the pestle down and covered her eyes with her hands.

(Y/n)’s heart ached so much they felt compelled to rub the the spot in an attempt to soothe it. “Is the idea of me loving you really that awful?” They asked, a watery chuckle falling from their lips.

“(Y/n), it’s not that simple.” Tamayo tried to explain, but (Y/n) was already getting up and heading out of the room.

“It’s fine. I’ll try to stay out of your way. Stick around a bit longer for the sake of the village is all I ask.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for an answer. They went to their room and felt numb the rest of the day.

They were jostled out of their upset thoughts by the sound of pounding feet drawing closer and before they could react any further, Yushirou barged in practically foaming at the mouth. (Y/n) was not intimidated by the display however.

“Would it kill you to knock?”

“What have you done to upset Tamayo-sama?” He seethed, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“I’ve momentarily burdened her with my feelings. Don’t worry, once you get on the road again I’m sure she’ll feel much better. And you’ll have her all to yourself again, you must be thrilled.” (Y/n) bitterly informed.

“Don’t speak as if this is no large matter, you’ve left Tamayo-sama very distraught! What did you do? Why was she crying?”

“Crying?” (Y/n) asked, the information chilled them like a sudden torrential rainfall.

“Yes! Now what did you say to her you mongrel? Spit it out!” Yushirou growled, grabbing at the neck of (Y/n)’s clothing to shake them around a bit.

“I kinda... told her I loved her?”

“You what?!” Yushirou bellowed with rage and envy befitting a rival.

“I’m pretty sure you heard me the first time.” (Y/n) still had the gall to tease the demon knowing full well he could think of ten different ways to kill them with one hand tied behind his back.

“You idiot! Don’t you know what she’s been through? And you just think you can say such things and be on your merry way? Honestly, a goddess like her should not have to shed tears for such insolence!”

“What are you talking about?” (Y/n) grunted. The hold Yushirou had them in was very uncomfortable.

“If I tell you, you must never bring this up to Tamayo-sama, and you will apologize right away for your unsavory actions. Do you understand?”

“...yes.” (Y/n) nodded tentatively. Yushirou let go of them and they rubbed at their tender flesh where he had dug in.

“Tamayo-sama was ill once as well,” Yushirou began, observing the books (Y/n) had strewn around the room with a bit of disdain for the mess, “when she was human, she was desperately searching for a cure that would save her from an agonizing death. Then, as fate would have it, one day she met a man who promised her a cure for her ailment. What that man did to her turned her into a demon. It was true that Tamayo-sama was freed from the pains of her illness, but at the cost of everything she held dear. For you see, the man had not explained what she would become and with no way to control herself, she had killed and devoured her husband and children.” Yushirou crossed his arms tightly, “Do you understand now? Can you imagine what that must have been like?”

“I had no idea.” (Y/n) looked down at their feet.

“Yeah, then you come in and— argh! What are you still hanging around for? Go apologize already! You’ve already waited the daylight away, get moving!”

“Okay, I’m going! I’m going!” (Y/n) batted the angry demon away and jogged down the hall. They checked every room until they made it to the sick bay.

They asked around and quickly learned that Tamayo had gone out for a moonlit walk. They thanked the patients and quickly made their way out the door, shutting it tightly behind them.

They looked out from the engawa, scanning the scenery they saw no sign of the demon doctor. Deciding the nearby forest was their best bet, they hopped off of the engawa, bare feet against the grass and dirt, and jogged into the woods.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) called for her, searching around for any clues to her whereabouts.

They traveled deeper still, teasing the edge of the deep woods where not even the sun could shine through on the brightest of days, much less the soft reflection of the moon. They heard a rustle.

“Tamayo?”

(Y/n) felt the hairs on the neck and arms scrape to attention. Their heart was beating frantically as the noise drew closer. It couldn’t be Tamayo, she surely would have called out in return.

Then, (Y/n) screamed.

They couldn’t remember how they had ended up on the ground. They blinked sluggishly up at the moon only for it to be blocked moments later by a blurry figure. (Y/n) swore they saw swirls of colorful flowers dancing at the corners of their vision. (Y/n) winced and gurgled. Why did their chest hurt so bad, what was this pressure?

“(Y/n), please, tell me what to do. What do you want me to do?” A muffled voice cried, confusing (Y/n).

They tried to take in another breath but it just felt like they were drowning. The voice sounded farther away, but no less pleading, mixed with far away screams and angry yells. Neither of which sounded like they belonged to the figure before them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

‘For what?’ (Y/n) wondered, the pain had faded greatly. Whatever was happening, it was better than the pain. Perhaps they could go back to sleep now.

And so, they did.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was to the soft brushing of knuckles against their hair which was almost immediately drowned out by a ferocious hunger. They bent to snap at the fingers but something had kept them restrained. (Y/n) struggled and growled, the need to tear into flesh was, all too fittingly, consuming them.

“(Y/n), take a little at a time. Control yourself.” The voice beside them gently urged, presenting (Y/n) with a tube. They were highly uninterested at first until the further end of the tube was released from a pinched grip and allowed blood to flow down to their waiting mouth. It wasn’t fresh or hot, but it was better than nothing. After a few minutes of stopping and starting the thick slide of blood, the figure took the tube away all together, causing (Y/n) to growl and hiss with displeasure.

“You will need to learn to pace yourself, the sooner you do, the better.” The soft voice informed, not that (Y/n) really understood them.

(Y/n) wasn’t sure how long this had gone on, but they learned quickly not to bite the hand that feeds you, even if it was only aged blood on the menu.

Then slowly, they felt their brain working overtime. Apparently, there was a lot of information hiding under all of the bloodlust, and (Y/n) thought maybe, just maybe, there was a part of themself that detested those desires for human flesh and bone.

Then one night, it was like a fog had finally rolled out of (Y/n)’s mind and they struggled against their restraints for a whole other reason.

“How did I get here?” They yelled, breathing heavily though they had no real need to breathe at all anymore.

(Y/n) heard the soft patter of footsteps on the matted floor out in the hallway. They were honestly surprised they could hear such a slight noise to begin with.

The door slid open and Tamayo stood there, observing them nervously.

“Tamayo!” (Y/n) sighed in relief, “Where were you? All I remember is going out to look for you. How did I even—“

Tamayo was over in a flash, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s with her hands cupping their cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed, “I didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t speak for yourself. I should have just tried to make your passing quick and comfortable, but I was selfish. I’m so sorry.”

(Y/n) winced, thinking back hurt, but with that last ‘sorry’, they were back in the moonlit woods, bleeding out with Tamayo above them and Yushirou dismantling the low level demon that had jumped them.

(Y/n) leaned their forehead up to meet Tamayo’s more firmly since their arms and legs were still tightly bound.

“You don’t need to apologize, but I forgive you.” They rasped, drawing more tears from the demon doctor.

“I couldn’t lose you. Not again.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) asked, puzzled.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, (Y/n)?”

“I think it’s a nice idea, to be reborn as something new.” (Y/n) shrugged as best as they could.

“When I first came to this village, something pulled me to this old house, and it wasn’t the smell of death and ruin. Something inside me told me this was where I needed to be,” Tamayo ran her thumbs along (Y/n)’s cheekbones, “it all led me to you and though you are unique from any other person I have met in all my years roaming this earth, I feel like I knew you life times ago.”

“I feel like I felt something similar.” (Y/n) whispered, “Something about your eyes just felt so familiar. Do you think...”

“Yes and no,” Tamayo smiled sadly, “I believe my husband had a hand in bringing you to me. You may have the same soul but you are still you’re own person with unique experiences. I like seeing little reminders of him in you, but I’m also growing very fond of who you are on your own.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell me before?” (Y/n) asked.

“Because I was afraid and I had every right to be. I almost lost you again.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tamayo raised her head to brush a kiss over (Y/n)’s forehead, “Forgiven.”

“...Do you think you could maybe untie me now or...?” (Y/n) asked with a goofy smile on their face.

“Oh, yes, I should do that. So long as you promise to tell me if you ever feel like you’re losing yourself.”

“You have my word, my lady.” (Y/n) replied, leaving Tamayo a bit flustered.

“So, how is everyone?” (Y/n) asked with a stretch, sitting up from the bed.

“They all left for new opportunities in the southeast. I apologize, but Yushirou and I thought it best if they believed you had died. A bear mauling.” Tamayo’s nose crinkled very subtly, but (Y/n) easily saw her displeasure.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” (Y/n) said with a melancholic smile. They leaned over hesitantly and kissed the faint wrinkle of Tamayo’s nose away, making the doctor fall forward to bury her head in (Y/n)’s collarbone.

“I worry that you’re too understanding.” Tamayo commented shyly, earning a laugh from (Y/n) and after another moment of stillness, (Y/n) spoke up again.

“Where is Yushirou anyway?”

“I’m in the kitchen and I can hear ever word you say you blood sucker!” Yushirou yelled, making the doctor and the new demon jump at the volume. “You better get travel ready soon, because you gobbled up the last of our blood supply!”

“Sorry!” (Y/n) called awkwardly, snorting only after Yushirou replied with a handful of sounds that made no sense, but got his grumpiness across.

“Don’t feel too bad. It’s a process Yushirou has endured as well. He was no less needy and feral than you were when I changed him.” Tamayo said.

“Needy and feral,” (Y/n) groaned, “I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.” Tamayo chuckled lightly, raising her head from (Y/n)’s chest to look into their eyes making their breath hitch.

“That hasn’t harmed my image of you at all,” Tamayo kissed their cheek, “you are still the sweet,” a kiss to the other cheek, “selfless,” a kiss to the nose, “person you were before this.”

(Y/n) tentatively raised their hands to cup Tamayo’s cheeks, noting the pale blue hue of their previously clear nails as they did so.

“Forgive me if this comes off as needy, but could I kiss you?” They asked, barely above a whisper.

“Please.” Tamayo responded quickly, pulling in (Y/n) from the back of their neck.

Soft lips glided together, occasionally leaving their target to land sweet pecks elsewhere before diving back in. When they finally drew apart, resting their foreheads together, Tamayo smiled brightly. It was a feeling she hadn’t had since she was human all those years ago.

[marvelyningreen]

Late-bloomer

[Summary: Professor Xavier once said that there was much more in you than you knew. You weren’t sure what he’d meant by that. Then again, when push comes to shove, who knows?

Warnings: mild language, references to injury

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the low-key established relationship variety. Sequel to “Linger.” ]

“You are gonna come with, aren’t you? Please?” Peter had laced his fingers through yours, swinging your hand playfully. “The professor thinks you’re ready, and I wanna be there for your first mission!”

The better part of a year had passed since Professor Xavier promised to spend more time helping you master your abilities and, true to his word, he devoted time every week to training you. To your own surprise – if not to anyone else’s – you’ve actually been improving. While you sometimes still feel that you’re behind the curve, you can’t deny that you’re much stronger than you used to be.

For your part, you kept your promise to the professor.

You’d always been too intimidated to speak to Jean, but one morning, you psyched yourself up and did it. You asked to sit with her at breakfast, and initiated a fumbling conversation that was mostly about the weather. Scott seemed baffled – and frankly embarrassed for you – but from across the room, Peter gave you a thumbs-up.

You did manage to find out that Jean’s fond of phlox and peonies, and resolved to add more to the garden. You must’ve thought it pretty loudly, because Jean caught your eye and smiled. She greets you when you pass in the hallways now.

You’d overheard Kurt mention that a certain disused alcove was probably once a little Mary garden. He’d sounded wistful to you. You did your homework, bringing in a small statue of Mary and filling the surrounding flowerbeds with irises, lilies, and roses.

The next time you saw Kurt in the gardens, you casually suggested that he walk over that way, trying hard not to sound like a try-hard and hoping that you hadn’t overstepped yourself. Not two minutes later, Kurt suddenly teleported in front of you and hugged you before you could say a word. Now, you often see him go out there to pray. Sometimes, you join him.

Summers are fairly quiet at the school. The students who were able to would go home for summer vacation. Some elected to stay around to further their training and some, sadly, didn’t really have homes to return to.

Your summer project has been an effort to revitalize the mansion’s disused kitchen gardens. You let the remaining students know that anyone who wants to is welcome to help out, and the response so far has been enthusiastic. You haven’t had any shortage of volunteers to help with the planting and weeding and watering. Some of the faculty joined in as well, when they were between missions. You think you might able to get a head-start on replanting the orchard.

And Peter, well…

Peter may not be inclined to gardening himself, but he’s definitely inclined to hang out with you while you garden. Apparently, you’d been the last to figure out that Peter was smitten with you, so it was to the surprise of no one when it was clear you two were seeing each other.

He’d even volunteered to help with your training. Of course, he was almost immediately banned from using the “think fast!” technique, if only because he was way too nice about it. The second it looked like you weren’t going to catch whatever he’d tossed in your direction, he’d zip in and catch it himself so it wouldn’t hit you. It was adorable, but not exactly helpful to your learning process.

He’d be gone for weeks at a time, though. He would get sent on missions here and there, and he took summer as an opportunity to spend time with his mother and sister. Your windowsills are beginning to fill up from all the souvenirs he brought back.

Just this morning, you’d promised him homemade apple strudel for breakfast, and he’d mentioned he might bring someone else along, if that was alright with you. You’d assumed that meant Kurt was coming home early. But no, Peter turned up at your door with Mr. Lehnsherr in tow.

It might’ve been nice to have a little advance notice so you could make a good first impression on your boyfriend’s very intimidating father – who happens to be an ex-supervillain – but at least Peter’s easygoing confidence managed to keep things from getting awkward.

And somehow – somehow – the offshoot of all this was that you and Mr. Lehnsherr both ended up tagging along on this mission. Whether it was the professor’s reassurance that it was strictly a diplomatic errand or Peter’s puppy-dog eyes that were more convincing, neither of you could say.

You’d managed to convince yourself that this was fine. The professor wouldn’t have brought you if he didn’t think you were ready, right? And all of your doubts were in your own head; you knew that. Nobody was looking at you and wondering why they’d brought the help along. Peter, who for some reason seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to spend time with you and Mr. Lehnsherr simultaneously, stuck close to you and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

And then everything went all to hell before you could blink.

Now you’re trying to telekinetically prevent a net-full of plastic waste barrels from falling into the harbor, Scott has just lasered a third shipping container in half, Mr. Lehnsherr is turning the wreckage into a makeshift holding cell, and Peter is zipping around tossing your assailants into it.

And just when everything’s finally been safely contained and you think you’ve got a second to breathe, the professor speaks up.

“I’ve lost Hank.”

The fairly upbeat mood darkens instantly.

“One of those guys was running psychic interference, wasn’t he?” says Peter.

“Yeah, but he got knocked out,” says Scott. “Nice shot, by the way.”

That last part is directed at you, with an approving nod.

“We’ll find him, Charles,” says Mr. Lehnsherr. “He can’t be far.”

“I’ll take a look around,” says Peter.

He disappears, and there’s a second or two of silence. The professor presses his fingertips to his temple and glances around worriedly, as if listening all the harder for any trace of Hank. Before you can suggest heading back to your transport, you hear Peter shout.

“Over this way! Hurry!”

Wordlessly, you all take off at a run. He’d only said to hurry. He hadn’t said that Hank was alright, which can only mean…

As you round the corner, you gasp in horror. There lies Hank – injured, unconscious, and bleeding out on the ground. As one, you all rush to his side, but Peter’s there in a blink.

“I can run him back to the mansion,” he begins, but Mr. Lehnsherr interrupts.

“If we move him before we stabilize him, it might kill him.”

Peter had looked worried up until this moment, not panicked. But at the thought that his particular skills won’t help here, his expression turns grim.

“If we don’t get help, he’ll die anyway,” Scott argues.

As the others speak, the floor seems to tilt under you, and you sink to your knees just to keep yourself from falling. You press your hands against the cold pavement, trying to steady yourself.

Is it because of the blood? No, it’s something else. Something pressing against your skull.

Hank, who’d always been kind to you, who’d become like family to Scott after Alex was killed. Hank, who’d been giddy as a schoolboy all week waiting for Saturday, when he was going to take Mystique out on a real date – dinner at a fancy restaurant, just the two of them.

It isn’t fair.

You feel Peter’s hands on your shoulders. You feel sick, like you’re about to faint, like you’re seeing double, like-

You are seven years old, playing out in your yard. A windstorm the night before has knocked several baby birds from their nest. The mama bird hops nearby, chirping and calling to no avail. You watch as the baby birds, featherless and helpless, struggle in the grass.

You feel a horrible crushing sadness in your chest. You’ve been told never to touch baby birds, and even if you did, there’s no way you could climb all the way up to their nest.

A heartbroken sob shakes your body. It isn’t fair. The birds are too small to fly, and too weak to defend themselves. And you’re too small, too.

It isn’t fair. You should be able to fix this. You should be able to help.

You aren’t allowed to touch wild animals. Why couldn’t there be a way to help without breaking the rules?

You reach out, and –

The mama bird shrills in alarm. Your sobs fade, and your eyes widen, and you watch as the little birds are lifted into the air – up and up and up – and set gently back in their nest. You know somehow, although you don’t understand, that you made it happen.

“I can fix this.”

The words leave your mouth before you know you’re speaking, and suddenly the others are staring at you in confusion. They know, as you do, that you don’t have any healing abilities, and yet… There’s an inexplicable certainty in your mind, in spite of the panic in your chest.

“I can fix this,” you say again, “But I don’t know how.”

You turn away from Hank, looking up at Professor Xavier. There’s worry in his eyes, and something unreadable along with it.

“Sir, please, can you help me?” you plead.

The professor nods, and reaches out to place his fingertips on your temple. Almost of their own accord, your eyes close, and your hand reaches out to Hank’s shoulder.

Through the chaos of your fear, there’s a calm presence in your mind.

Focus, it bids you. You can fix this. You can change it. Reach out to that which is damaged, and make it whole. Focus.

You reach out, and your mind is overwhelmed with a sensation that it struggles to comprehend. You’d thought that trying to use your powers was like trying to remember the words to a song. You see now that that’s not quite accurate. It feels like having heard a song played backwards your whole life, and finally hearing it the right way ‘round.

You are thirteen. A girl in your class has just seen her friend get pushed down the stairs by a bully. The girl shouts, and suddenly the granite steps rearrange themselves into a ramp, and the landing turns to sand, and the friend slides down into it unharmed.

The girl runs off before you have a chance to say anything. The following week, she doesn’t show up for class. You learn later that her family moved away.

You’re afraid, and you don’t understand, and you keep going. The effort of focusing is immense, impossible. You hardly know if you’re remembering to breathe, or if the pressure is inside your skull or around it.

You feel… What you feel defies description. It’s as though you’re at a beach, and you press your hand against the sand, and you can feel the pattern, the structure in the seemingly random grains of sand, and you know that it isn’t right. And if you focus – if you focus all your energy – you can will the millions and millions of grains of sand to rearrange themselves into the right order.

For a moment, the sheer vastness of the situation threatens to overwhelm you. But the professor’s steadying presence stays in your mind, like a hand holding yours as you lean further and further out over a ledge. Slowly, grain by grain, the sands are beginning to shift.

You’re in college. Yet another class has devolved into a debate about mutants – their existence, their rights, their purpose.

You don’t speak up in class under normal circumstances. That isn’t about to change now.

A voice, outside your head, drifts through the garbled static in your ears.

“His wounds are healing. He’s… he’s stabilizing. Charles, how-?”

You’re vaguely aware that the professor is answering him out loud, but you hear him in your mind: Come back now. Come back. You’ve done it; just relax.

Relax? You can try. The strange sensations fade from your mind, and their place is filled by the sounds of the world around you and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. It feels as though the hand has pulled you back onto solid ground, but you can’t seem to keep your balance, and-

The instant you begin to fall, you find your head resting against somebody’s shoulder, and their arms are wrapped around you.

You’re twenty-five, and the entire world is shaken to its foundations by some catastrophe in Cairo. You try with all your strength, but nothing you do can prevent your apartment building from collapsing.

“Professor…?” Peter’s voice is beside your ear, strident with worry, but it seems so much further away.

“It’s alright, Peter,” you hear the professor saying, dimly.

You’ll be alright.

You are twenty-six. It’s far too quiet in this room. This building may function as a school, but it still feels like a mansion. You stare at the cup of tea in front of you. It smells wonderful, but you’re too nervous to take a single sip. Across the table, Professor Charles Xavier regards you with a thoughtful expression.

“I understand you wish to work here at my school. Is that right?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say. “I know I’m too old to be a student, and I don’t really have any experience teaching, but I… I want to learn, and I’m willing to work. If there’s any job that needs doing, anything at all; if you need a custodian, or help in the kitchens, or… or a groundskeeper, maybe. Anything.”

Your gaze darts longingly to the gardens outside the window. The grounds here are so beautiful. It’s one of the things you missed most when you lived in the apartment – having a garden to look after.

The professor takes a sip of tea and sits back.

“My school is open to anyone who wishes to learn,” he says. “What are your abilities, exactly?”

“My…? Well.” Your heart sinks. You were afraid of this.

Painfully aware of the professor’s eyes on you, you telekinetically lift your spoon into the air. Focus, now. Focus. The spoon dips into the sugar bowl, and – spilling a trail of sugar along the way – shakily hovers back to your teacup and stirs itself in before returning to the saucer with a loud clink.

“I know it’s not much,” you say, “But that’s why I want to learn.”

With hands trembling as badly as the spoon had, you pick up the teacup and take a sip, just to buy yourself a precious few seconds.

The professor nods. “I see.”

He leans his chin on his hand. You’re certain that you’ve failed. Just as you’re bracing yourself to hear him politely send you packing –

“We hire a local company to maintain the grounds,” he says, “But the gardens themselves could use better tending, especially from someone who cares about the work. There’s even a little groundskeeper’s cottage that’s only being used to storage now, if you need somewhere to stay. The job is yours, if you want it.”

You can’t believe your ears. Professor Xavier – the Professor Charles Xavier – is offering you a job, and a chance to learn, and a place to stay? You nearly upset the whole tea set as you stand abruptly, reaching across the table to shake the professor’s hand.

“Yes! Absolutely, yes,” you say, “Sir, thank you. I’ll work hard, I promise.”

The professor laughs. “I don’t doubt it.”

-

Are you ready to wake up?

No, you mumble. Five more minutes.

The voice in your head chuckles gently.

It’s been three days already.

Three days? Ridiculous. No one would’ve let you sleep for three whole days. The gardens would be overrun with weeds. The windowboxes would’ve dried up. Indignant, you open your eyes.

And immediately squint them shut again. The intense brightness of the room stings.

You feel a hand lift from your forehead, and a shadow falls over your eyes and lingers there. Beyond its merciful shade, you can tell that the light in the room has dimmed. Cautiously, you open your eyes once more, blinking a few times.

You’re disoriented for a moment, expecting to see the familiar walls of your room in the cottage. But this rather featureless room is in the infirmary beneath the mansion. You don’t have the faintest idea what you’d be doing there.

The hand shading your eyes withdraws, and you follow its movement to see Professor Xavier looking down at you. He smiles.

“Welcome back.”

“Back?” you repeat. “Back from wh- … wait.”

You remember. You remember all of it – the docks, the blood… Hank.

You have to get up. You have to find Hank.

The professor catches your shoulder, preventing you from sitting up.

“Easy. Easy, there,” he says.

“What happened? Where’s Hank? Professor, did I… Is he-?”

The professor speaks slowly and gently, like he’s calming a frightened child. And to be honest, that’s exactly what you feel like in this moment.

“Hank is fine,” he says, “He’ll need to take it easy for a while, but he’s going to make a full recovery. You saved his life.”

Relief floods through you, tightening your throat. For a moment, you don’t trust that your voice is steady enough to speak. You look away from the professor’s kind gaze and blink back tears. You’d been so scared that a good man might’ve died because you and the others were too late to save him. You’d been certain that, once again, you were powerless to help.

“I don’t understand what happened” you say, finally, “All of that… Was it you, Professor?”

He shakes his head.

“All I did was help you keep your focus. Everything else was you entirely. Didn’t I say that there’s more in you than you would guess?”

“I… I figured you were just saying that to be nice.”

Your sheepish honesty makes the professor laugh, and that puts you a little more at ease.

“I said it because it’s true.” He pauses, then continues on to answer your unasked question. “Hank has some rather complicated term for your abilities, but the more common expression for it is a reality warper. Telekinesis is merely the simplest manifestation of those powers.”

“Reality…? I’m still confused,” you say, and it’s the understatement of the century. The sporadic, barely-adequate telekinetic abilities you’d possessed since childhood weren’t really telekinesis at all?

“Within limits, you have the ability to alter reality. For example, it would be simple enough for you to change an apple into an orange, or freeze the water in a glass. It follows that you are able to take something damaged and repair it again. And if the damage is an injury, you could heal it. Of course, Hank was quite badly injured, so undoing the damage required tremendous exertion on your part.”

Your head is spinning as you try to process all of this. You can change things, transform them, fix them.

Your gaze drifts to Professor Xavier’s wheelchair.

If you can heal people, then maybe…

But when you look up, the professor is shaking his head.

“As I said, there are limits even to powers like yours.”

“But if I tried,” you say, “Maybe I could-”

“No.” The professor’s tone is firm. “You’ve been unconscious for days, and that was from healing recent injuries. Something new is more easily altered than something old. And an old wound… It’d only do you harm to try. I can’t allow you to do that, even for my own sake.”

The confused elation you’d been feeling starts to flag. You’ve been so used to feeling useless that it’s easy to slip back into that familiar territory. It startles you when Professor Xavier lays his hand on yours.

“Someday, you may be able to accomplish that and more,” he says, and laughs gently. “I’ve just told you that you have the power to reshape the world, and the first though that comes to your mind isn’t a way to use it for gain or entertainment. Your first impulse is to use it to help someone. I’m touched. Truly, I am. Thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a deeper warmth in his voice as he says this, and you cannot doubt that he’s speaking from the heart. He’d know – he must’ve known, somehow – what you were when you came to him, offering to take on any job that needed doing just for a chance to learn. On some level, you’d always assumed he hired you out of pity.

But things are becoming clearer now – why he’d accepted you, why he hadn’t told you what you were, why he’d let you find your own way.

You’ve known the professor long enough to understand that his decisions are motivated by kindness. He had no choice in gaining immense powers at a young age, himself. Jean was just the same. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to spare someone else that burden.

The professor must be following your train of thought, because he nods slightly.

“I always had faith that your path would lead you here,” he says, “And that whatever the circumstance, you would come into your own out of an earnest desire to help others. That’s exactly what you did. I’m proud of you.”

Your hand closes around the professor’s for a brief, fervent instant.

“Thank you,” you say.

The sincerity of this validation warms your heart. You blink rapidly, trying to keep yourself from actually tearing up, when –

“Awww…”

You’re startled by the sound of another voice in the room. You look sharply over to see Peter sitting in the corner, his feet kicked up on a table.

“Peter!” you gasp, “How long have you been there?”

He shrugs. “The whole time. You just never looked over this way. And it seemed like you two were having a moment, so I didn’t wanna interrupt. Good morning, by the way.”

“Good… morning,” you say, haltingly, suddenly realizing that you have no idea what time it is.

Peter grins and pushes himself to his feet, walking over to stand at your bedside. The professor watches him with a smile.

“Peter’s hardly left this whole time,” he says.

“Not true,” says Peter. “I went out to try and help keep up on your groundskeeper stuff. Don’t, uh… Don’t look too impressed. I don’t actually know what’s a weed and what’s not, so I might’ve pulled up a bunch of your flowers. Sorry.”

Oh god, you can just picture the state the gardens must be in. You’re going to have a lot of work to undo whatever happened out there. But the mental image of Peter speed-weeding the entire estate is too amusing not to smile at.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you say.

“Tell that to the geraniums,” says the professor, shaking his head wryly. “Well, I’d better go tell Hank that you’re finally awake. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you in person. I’ll be back.”

The professor could’ve easily just called for Hank telepathically. You get the feeling he’s being polite and trying to give you and Peter a moment alone.

You start to sit up, and wow, apparently that’s a bad idea, because the room is no spinning. You close your eyes, reaching out as if to steady yourself against thin air. In an instant, Peter’s sitting on the edge of the bed, gently holding onto your arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” he says. “I got you.”

You take a moment to breathe, and the dizziness slowly fades. “It’s okay. Just headrush.”

When you open your eyes, Peter’s still watching you intently. Never fully letting go, he moves his hands to hold yours.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Alright, actually. Just… tired. Not in a bad way.”

You smile, hoping it’ll reassure him, and it seems to work. Peter leans in to kiss you.

“Who’s exceptional and important and incredible now?” He grins brightly as he tosses your own words back at you.

“That’s not- You don’t- Um…”

He laughs as you trip over your tongue completely. You’d always felt a little inadequate in the face of compliments, and that’s a lot of them to accept all at once.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Alright, fine. Bite-sized compliments from now on. Got it. But you are all of that. I always knew you were.”

Though his tone is teasing, the look in his eyes is entirely sincere. And, to your surprise, you believe him. There’s not an insincere bone in his body; you know that for a fact. So, it stands to reason that his feelings about you must be just as genuine.

The rush of that feeling – the confidence in Peter, and in yourself – puts on you cloud nine, almost literally. You have to focus to keep yourself from actually levitating everything in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m just figuring all this out now,” you say. “I mean, I’m thirty, for crying out loud.”

“And I lived in my mom’s basement until I was twenty-seven. What’s your point?” says Peter, shrugging. “Just ‘cause it took us a little longer to figure things out – we both still got there in the end. Late-bloomer solidarity, am I right?”

“Late-bloomer solidarity,” you repeat, grinning back at him. “Wait, do you think this means I’m gonna be an official X-Man now?”

Peter’s face lights up. “Hell yeah, you are! I’m officially calling dibs on having you as a partner. Hey, have you thought about what your codename’s gonna be?”

Your brows furrow in a look of confusion that Peter seems to find amusing. You actually hadn’t thought about it at all. You never thought you’d get this far, really.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” you say.

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot going for you. You’re a jack of all trades, a wild card. Oh!” Peter snaps his fingers excitedly. “Wild Card. That’s a good one. You don’t have to pick right now, but… I’m just sayin’- if you don’t pick your own, somebody’s gonna pick one for you.”

You grin. “That’s true. I mean, look at you. You’re fast, you’re full of sass, and you love sugar. In another life, you might’ve been The Amazing Hummingbird.”

The look of disgust on Peter’s face is priceless. “That’s tragic, and I’m offended.”

You can’t help but giggle.

“I like Quicksilver,” you say. “I think it suits you.”

You run your fingers through Peter’s hair, and he seems to melt. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re back,” he says. “I didn’t realize just how boring this place can get without you.”

In spite of Peter’s frank expression, you can’t quite believe that. As a fairly reserved gardener, you know you’re not exactly the life of the party.

“Without me?” You laugh. “Be serious.”

Peter snorts. “Right, right. Baby steps. I forgot.”

By chance, your gaze drifts to the far side of the room, where Peter had been sitting before. You just now notice that there’s a cot set up over there, and it’s clearly been slept in. He really had stayed down here for the past three days, hadn’t he? It gives you kind of a warm fuzzy feeling that he’d wanted to stay close to you.

When you look back at Peter, you see that he’s frowning slightly.

“Y’know, you had me worried for a minute there, back at the docks. I mean, the professor explained that you just exhausted yourself because you never changed anything that big before, but…” Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head. “It really looked like you pulled some sorta equivalent exchange healing thing, and I thought, like, what if this is it? I guess what I’m trying to say is – there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Before you can ask what he means, Peter leans in and kisses you.

“I love you,” he says.

You wonder if this is how Peter feels when he uses his powers – like being the only person truly awake while the rest of the world is frozen in time. In spite of yourself, you feel the gravity in the room loosen its hold just a little, and everything’s floating gently an inch off the ground.

“I love you, too, Peter,” you say.

The trace of apprehension in Peter’s face melts into a smile.

“Even though I wrecked your geraniums?” he asks, sheepishly.

“I can find more geraniums. There’ll never be another you.”

At that, Peter actually looks bashful. Is he… is he blushing? He absolutely is. Gently, you take his face in your hands, and even as you kiss him, he can’t seem to stop smiling.

[tundrainafrica]

Hey so how does it feel to carry the entire Levihan fandom on your back? I absolutely love all your stories! I always look forward to when you update! I had an idea for a fic but I haven't seen anyone do it. Where past levi wakes ups ( when he only sees hange as a friend) in the future to find that he's happily married to hange or living domestically with her and just contemplates his feelings for her

Title: Unwritten

Summary:

“Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she creates really quality works is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the direction, to the design and just the overall production… And she knows how to do it. When I watch her movies, it feels like they're peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“What makes Hange Zoe's writing special are those in betweens. The unwritten parts... if you know what I mean?" 

Levi is assigned to work with screenwriter Hange Zoe and he is left constantly wondering why the hell she's taking her work so seriously.

Link: AO3

Note: I conceptualized this long fic after looking through a some of the prompts in my inbox and playing with them.. TYSM to everyone who sent those. I won't be dropping all the prompts I used when making this now because it might end up spoiling the fic as a whole but I will be dropping the prompts with every chapter I updated.

This fic doesn't actually follow any prompt strictly, I twisted the prompts around them, tore them apart, put them together so they might seem unrecognizable for some.

Either way, I'm very grateful to readers who are sending me prompts. It keeps me writing and brainstorming even when life gets terribly busy.

So thank you for them :D. I'm trying to get back to posting my writing more regularly again and this fic has been sitting in my folder for a while, I was just a little nervous to post it. Thanks to itShailaAM for looking through it!

If neither of us remember anything… Then it’s like it never happened right?

The voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic. It had a unique way of twisting at his gut, spidering up his spine then leaving an almost painful pang in his chest.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Levi found himself still able to take control.

So he reached out.

Then he was chasing after her again.

Chasing… He then wondered. How long had he been chasing? How long had he been awake?

With the first light of morning, whatever message, whatever meaning he could have made up for himself dissipated.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

For the first time in years or even decades, Levi was wasting his early morning window before work. He wasn’t doing much of anything but staring up at the white ceiling in some feeble attempt to make sense of it again. He came up empty save for two things: a faint throbbing in his head and a half hearted conclusion that maybe it really was just some fevered dream.

“Good morning!"  Someone was right next to him. Her voice was higher, more mellow. A hairs breadth away from his ear though, it grated.

Levi narrowed his eyes and the blur cleared somewhat. “Petra?” He heard himself speak. He was in an unfamiliar in-between, completely in control of himself, yet strangely disconnected. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petra put one hand on the back of her head and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about barging in like this…” She didn’t have to apologize. They were childhood friends and with all the family gatherings they had spent together growing up, they were more than comfortable just flitting in and out of each other’s apartments.

Levi didn’t respond. There were more important things to think about like the slow and almost painful process of sitting up. That morning, he was a little more careful than usual.

“Your mom told me to check on you.” Petra continued.

“Typical,” he muttered coldly. He turned towards the window, and took in the view of the blue sky, a few stories above ground. It should calm him if he stared at it long enough. “She always overreacts,” he added. At that point, the crankiness had started to subside and Levi realized he didn’t mind the doting too much. His mother had always been like that anyway. Growing up, a sprained ankle or an animal bite from a family pet had always been enough for Kuchel to insist on a visit to the doctor.

Petra let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t blame her though. Since the accident, she’s been asking about you every...”

Everyday. Levi completed it for her. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had asked about him every hour. “She can always ask me directly,” he said out loud before Petra could finish. He didn’t feel too bad about interrupting. Petra had been speaking particularly slowly since a while ago and if he let her speak like that for any longer, they might not get anything done.

As if she had read his mind or at least noticed the impatience, she immediately gathered herself. “You always downplay it,” she said, more clearly this time.

“She always exaggerates it.”

“That accident was pretty bad though.” Petra cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure you understand that, right?”

Levi averted his gaze for a brief second. He couldn’t deny that part. That accident had apparently been bad enough to merit a month long hospital stay, bad enough for Levi to not remember much of it aside from the phantom pains in his chest, And bad enough to take the brunt of the pain and the inconvenience of dealing with the symptomatic disorientation, the fatigue and the begrudging need for some support.

A few seconds of reflection later, Levi concluded maybe there was good reason for that overreaction. “But I can take care of myself.”

Ironically, his body chose that moment to teeter.

“Hey, you okay?” Petra put one warm hand on his shoulder. “You think you can make it to work today?”

The throbbing at the back of his head had dulled to a bearable ache but he could have sworn it had been worse in the hospital. “I don’t have enough leaves,” he said. He focused for a while longer on Petra’s eyes and saw reason.

Maybe I can take a longer break?

His body was probably silently begging for more leaves. On the contrary, another part of him had been yearning for normalcy for a while. Practicality had been the deciding factor. Although Levi had more than enough leaves, did he have more than he would have been comfortable giving up? Maybe not. He wouldn’t take it anyway. He had more than enough strength to push himself out of bed and pad lightly to the bathroom.

Unwillingly or willingly? He was too tired to tell.

“You were in the hospital just a week ago.” Petra was a voice of reason or a voice of temptation.

“I can’t take any more leaves,” Levi repeated again, as if saying it louder somehow made it more convincing. He made his way to his closet, keeping his strides purposeful, partially for himself, partially for her.

Even for a long time friend, Petra had always been shy and conservative. As soon as Levi motioned to pull his shirt up, she rushed out of the room in some characteristic gesture of modesty.

His bedroom door closed with a click and Levi started to slip his clothes off much faster. His head continued to throb. There was a strange ringing in his ears and the room was a little drafty, typical for early spring.

Levi didn’t have the mind space to prepare for that brush with icy wind. Fucking hell. Discomfort then the desperation that followed had him considering calling in sick again.

After using up three week’s worth though, vacation leaves were starting to feel more like a scam than an actual benefit of the job. He ran through the motions of his typical morning routine. Or at least, what had been typical a month ago. Since the accident, he hadn’t worn anything but loose shirts, pajamas and hospital gowns. Back in the hospital, he had been asleep a lot of that time.

He pulled his pants on, then sluggishly pulled his sweater over him, dolefully noting how snug fitting clothing seemed like strangers to his skin.

He didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

It looked like Petra did notice something was different. Over breakfast, she had pushed the plates closer to him. She did the honors of pouring the scrambled eggs onto his plate, then placing a loaf of bread right next to him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead.”

Levi mumbled something that could have been a ‘thanks’ or a ‘yes.’ He didn’t think too far about it either. There were more pressing things to deal with, like internally psyching himself up for his first day back at work and finding routine once again in the recovery process.

For a few minutes after, the two were silent in the small kitchen save for the sound of chewing and the sound of cutlery clacking on the plate.

“Hey Levi,” Petra hesitantly broke the silence. “You really don't remember what happened?” She had asked that question countless times before, back at the hospital, on his first day back at home and every single time she paid a visit.

He chalked it up to worry. In some semblance of a response, Levi downed the bread in his mouth in one painful gulp, then took a sip of tea. “I remember waking up in the hospital.”

“Before that.”

Levi dropped the half eaten bread on the plate and stared straight up at the ceiling for a second. “Leaving work,” he answered. It was too vague of an answer and Petra didn't seem satisfied.

Of course she wouldn’t be satisfied. He always walked the same route home and routine wouldn’t give too much of an answer to the question of how the hell more than a month ago, he had ended up with a severe concussion and a few contusions in the hospital emergency room, a few towns away from his own.

Past was past though. There was no use digging into it. At present, he had medical bills to pay and a career to salvage. No time for a personal investigation. He attempted to digress. “What did I miss?” Levi asked. “At work?” He noted Petra’s very disconcerting expression, a combination of pity and uncertainty. It was starting to get annoying.

Petra furrowed her brows, a little more hesitant to speak that time. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

In protest, Levi put the bread down and stared at Petra, his stone cold expression unwavering. He wouldn’t be eating unless Petra continued. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A few minutes of silence later and it seemed to work. Petra looked down at the bread then up at him. Whatever was plaguing her mind then had taken some control over her. “A lot has changed since the accident,” she started.

“With work?” Levi asked again. He dropped the bread on the plate, deliberately allowing the clatter, as if the loud jarring sound would be enough to drive away the disbelief. Three weeks or fifteen business days wasn’t supposed to be a long time taking into account the speed of office bureaucracy.

Petra nodded, a wry smile on her face. Her expression, her demeanor gave the uncertainty away before she spoke of it. “You’re probably going to have to talk to Mr. Zackley about it…”

Levi’s mind was racing. Despite the throbbing, Levi had managed to fill in the blanks for himself. Even before Petra expounded on it, Levi had started to accept already, going back to work was probably not going to be such an easy ride.

Being gone for weeks had done a number to his job.

Three weeks to be exact. It was just three weeks, fifteen business days. Despite Petra’s apparent discomfort, her incessant warnings not to ‘expect,’ Levi had expected some semblance of normalcy. When his hopes were dashed, Levi felt like he had been body slammed out of nowhere by an oncoming train.

“I’ve been working on their set for years…Since the pilot episode, ” Levi said slowly. Hell, since even before the pilot episode if you consider the preproduction stage. He didn’t want it to seem at all like it was an argument and he subdued his tone to something lighter, with the intention of reminding himself not to talk back at authority.

“And we’ve transferred you,” General Manager Darius Zackley said matter-of-factly. “Underground City has been garnering a lot of attention lately and we couldn’t afford to be undermanned at such a crucial point of production.”

“But was it necessary to transfer me?”

Mr. Zackley’s expression softened. He didn't have a natural expression that demanded authority but he made up for it with reason. “It’s a primetime show,” he explained. “One of our best, and given the uncertainty regarding your accident…” For some reason, he had hesitated at that word. “We couldn’t take a gamble. We had you immediately replaced after the first week.”

“And?” At face value, the new developments were starting to seem terribly, terribly disappointing. “I can still work there.” Levi was perfectly aware of where the conversation was going. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

Mr. Zackley was surprisingly patient. “It’s not an issue of you not fitting in. But we want to properly and more efficiently distribute our labor. The production of Underground City is currently…” He cleared his throat. “Oversaturated.”

Oversaturated with budget, resources. Underground City was a crime and mystery drama, one of their more high budget productions. Levi wasn’t too surprised at that piece of information, having worked closely with the producers and the writers since the pilot.

With a boss a few reporting levels above his own though, Levi couldn’t do much but listen quietly. Disappointment and uncertainty loomed over him and he was tiring more quickly.

“We’ve made some arrangements, set you up with a new role.” Mr. Zackley was taking his sweet time, his painfully sweet time.

At the butt end of Mr. Zackley’s whims, Levi was a mess. He racked his brain for all possible outcomes of the ‘arrangements’, a painful process, hampered by the weight of too many possibilities. They were a medium sized network that produced most of their own TV shows on top of news coverage and documentaries, still too many for Levi to have cared enough about to count.

At that moment, he was determined to make up for lost time. Naturally, his mind first flew to the more well known productions, those that had been receiving the best ratings in prime time TV since he had started working there.

Underground City. Military Police.

Working at the set of the crime drama ‘Underground City’ had been a good run for Levi, one he would have liked to continue but Mr. Zackley said so himself, they replaced him. ‘Military Police,’ one of their more popular historical war dramas, also received one of the bigger chunks of their budget. With Zackley’s very sullen expression, it looked like he wasn’t at all there to give Levi a promotion.

He didn’t really mind not working on the ‘Military Police’ set anyway. Everyone there seemed like a lazy prick and that long running drama had always seemed overrated to him. What else would be waiting for him though? “To where?” Levi pressed.

The old man hummed for a second, leaned forward on his seat. “I talked to Erwin about this and we have an opening in one of our daytime shows.”

“Erwin?” Levi repeated. The name was more than just familiar and he allowed himself a brief moment to recall. Erwin Smith. One of the more prominent in-house directors. Just digging deep into his mind, riling up whatever was causing the headache in the first place. He sat still and waited for it to subside again.

Then he wondered if it had been physical or just an emotional reaction to the mess he found himself in. He was barely recovering, he was plunged into a new position and he was confused, utterly confused.

“Consider it a temporary position until something else opens up,” Mr. Zackley added. “Given that you just got back from the hospital, it would be better if you started small.” He shot Levi a placating look. “Either way, this is a good opportunity for you, Ackerman…” It didn’t seem so genuine. “To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.”

Zackley spoke for an eternity longer after that but it had done nothing to make the transfer any better.

Levi had been working with that same hustle and bustle for years and he was confident, a three week break at the height of production wouldn’t have been enough to throw him--- hell, most people off completely.

But he was being treated like some invalid. Zackley’s warm words yet his uninviting demeanor sent some alarm bells ringing inside Levi.Mr. Zackley was overly consoling, overly placating and Levi’s mind was racing.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders, willing himself to relax and focus on the present. Whatever the catch was, he’d find out soon anyway.

To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.

What a magnificent fucking lie.

“Start small my ass.” With the stress just piling up and his body barely catching up, Levi was tempted to let it out as anything louder, accompanying it with the very dramatic motion of dropping the paper work on the floor and relishing the loud thud. He imagined scattering the pages on the table, spilling them onto the floor and maybe kicking them out onto some curb.

Then he brushed off that mental image completely.

That would only create an unnecessary mess, maybe even cause a scene in that small cafe. Although his life seemed like it was complete chaos, his fastidious side wouldn’t have allowed him to make it any more worse. Then and there, he deemed it the best option to just take a sip of his tea, allow it to warm him up slowly and create a comfortable distraction, somewhere convenient.

A minute or so later, Levi accepted, tea didn’t do too good of a job. After all, what could tea do, aside from supporting him through the long and painful two days of ‘adjustment’ and the journey to the very frustrating conclusion that the general manager of the studio, Mr. Zackley was too out of touch with the struggles of the average worker.

“Just for long enough to get back to the hustle and bustle of TV production? What a fucking liar,” Levi muttered again. He dropped the tea cup on the saucer with a clank.

“Well, technically you are starting small,” Petra said. “They don’t expect too much quality wise from a soap opera on a day time slot.” She flipped through the pages of scripts and the storyboards that formed an overwhelmingly thick pile of papers on the coffee table.

It wasn’t too thick. Levi stared for a while longer and he decided it was a manageable pile of documents. The soft copies on his laptop were also of a countable number.

The deadline to be completely functional in two days though wasn’t as reasonable.

In search of some semblance of a break, Levi shifted his gaze towards Petra.

Her familiar presence had made the job change bearable. A half hearted response with her attention mostly channelled towards the piles of scripts had still been enough to have Levi more at home in the middle of the coffee shop in the late afternoon. “You didn’t even need to transfer,” Levi said. The indignance and the bitterness of a while ago seemed to be mellowing into something almost sweet.

Petra turned a beet red and she put her hands up in defense. “No no… I wanted to. Besides, this type of set is always in need of more people.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in response. Soap opera sets? Or maybe just daytime soap operas in general. Or maybe just that particular soap opera set. He turned back to the pile of papers on the table then back to his laptop.

The pile of papers on the table was the script for that month alone. The folders in the USB were eight seasons worth of soap opera scripts and episodes. Levi was once again reminded why such a project could have been so undersaturated.

Scratch that, he had never forgotten and he didn’t think he would ever forget anyway.

The script for just that month was much larger than the piles Levi worked with at his previous production. By the second day, he was starting to conclude, working with daytime soap operas was turning out to be a grind, a seemingly thankless grind.

Soap operas ran with the expectation of producing five episodes a week with a shoestring budget. The pressing deadlines and just the amount of content that had to be produced meant vacations and holidays were few and far in between for the average employee. And the unreasonable demands usually meant that quality would naturally suffer.

Since he started assimilating into his job, he also started to wonder. What audience were they even producing soaps for in that day and age?

“Do you think you’ll even enjoy this?” Levi challenged.

“It’s too early to tell,” Petra said.

Levi didn’t want to admit it then, but he was convinced that she would even find a way to enjoy it. The question should have been for him. He was the one who could barely even get past the first page of the script.

Petra flashed him a knowing smile, flipping the pages a little faster. She wasn’t reading them and all attention was on Levi.

Her face could have been asking questions. Or Levi could have been projecting. He repeated the question to himself. What now? More specifically, what was he supposed to do?

Then he answered it. Get used to it? Or maybe just accept it as a job. The grind would eventually get less painful he was sure. But would he ever see the beauty in it?

Levi had never taken the time to watch that particular soap opera but he had seen too many in passing to know what he would be working with.

The stories didn’t make fucking sense. The sets were cheaply made. The lights, the cameras and the resources for special effects were far from what he was given when he was still working with the twenty-one-episodes-a-season, one-season-a-year ‘Underground City.”

According to Erwin, they just didn’t have the budget. Besides, the average viewer didn’t expect much else anyway from a soap opera.

Either way, he was still hired as the cinematographer. This is still your job. Levi took a deep breath then exhaled with a soft huff. First things first, he had to familiarize himself with ten to fifty episodes worth of scripts. That night, he would be watching the blocking, the lighting, the editing, the overall production.

That was the job of the fucking cinematographer anyway. Erwin had warned him though, they were severely undermanned in all facets of production, pre production, production proper and post production. And for shows that aired multiple times a week, that meant, the grind wouldn't end.

So he wouldn’t just be the cinematographer.

At the impending workload that followed his orientation phase, Levi closed his eyes tight. For a second there, his mind flew to other opportunities and just the process of editing his CV and applying elsewhere.

Maybe in a year he would reapply, or maybe even in months.

He wondered if Petra was thinking the same thing. If she were, she didn’t make it obvious. Petra enjoyed the production process just as much as he did and she had been the reason he had found a job there in the first place.

“Welcome back to the working world.” Petra chuckled.

Levi blinked back the surprise in his eyes as he was once again pulled back to reality. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed. The weak throbbing returned and after spending too many hours insisting to Petra that he was ready to go back to work, he didn’t think it right to take a break.

He sipped his tea and deemed that a quick break.

“God I miss our tea times,” Petra said, looking pointedly at Levi's tea caup. She flipped the script over and pulled her teacup towards her.

Levi noted the wistful expression on Petra’s face. “I was only out for a month,”

Petra shook her head. “But for a week or so, we thought you wouldn’t make it.” There was a subtle crack, not too noticeable if Levi hadn’t tensed up and watched her closely.

It was bringing up too many unwelcome emotions at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a haze of memories aggravated the throbbing in his head.

Levi turned back to the pile of papers. With the amount of work to do, he would never have the time to ponder what happened anyway. In an attempt at digression, he pulled the script towards him, and started to flip the pages, poring over words yet only taking in half of it.

A very boring half.

Eventually, he gave up. “Let’s go back home. We’re not getting anything done here.” He gathered the pages, and meticulously returned them to each envelope.

He was supposed to be reviewing the scripts to get some idea on how the TV show worked. They had chosen to work in the cafe to escape from the bustle of the sets and attempt some productivity. Yet, they had been in the cafe for a few hours already and he still didn’t remember what the story had been about in the first place.

Soap operas didn’t have logical plots anyway. Levi thought to himself. Maybe just accepting could make his work feel more unbearable. He watched as Petra gathered the pages on her end, stuffed them into her bag.

“Sorry, I thought you would have wanted tea. You always liked this place…” Petra was explaining herself. The not-so-eloquent way at which she did it was a distraction. In fact, everything at that point was either a distraction or even irritating. Levi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the throbbing take control for a second.

One step at a time. Levi slung his bag over his shoulder. “The tea was good,” he said, more for her than himself. That was a lie. In fact, the tea tasted underwhelming. Tea usually didn’t disappoint though and Levi was starting to suspect the fault was in him. “Just give me some time to get used to life again,” he added, his tone more apologetic that time.

A few seconds or even minutes of reflection later and Levi had to admit, he felt like he really had changed during that break.

Cinematography is visual storytelling. Or so, that was what he had been taught when he started working with TV shows years ago.

When there was no story he could follow, there was no essence or heart to portray. So, Levi naturally approached it like a cold hard science. The hard copies on folders lay abandoned on the coffee table. His laptop remained unopened.

Levi's attention was trained on the big screen. He had silently been sprawled on the sofa since they arrived back to his apartment hours ago. Bundled up in a sweatshirt, legs propped up on the coffee table, Levi was in that convenient trance between relaxing and analyzing.

He had no idea what the couple on the TV had been arguing about. He had no idea who had fathered the large overly tacky baby bump sticking out of the woman.

The latest episode was playing on repeat and Levi remembered two things happening in the past ten minutes. A pregnant woman entering the crappy set of their mansion, hand on her oversized belly and  man looked back at her then approached her, a look of abject horror on his face. He was shouting something, obscenities maybe?

By that point, Levi’s mind started to wander with too many other passing thoughts.

The horror at finding out the protagonist was pregnant was overly exaggerated. Were baby bumps really supposed to be that big? And why did it take them that many months to figure it out? How many pregnancies did the protagonist go through? How many love interests did she have?

Then the cinematographer and the photographer in him took over.

There were more important things to look into. The camera never moved. Levi was familiar with multi camera setups and he didn’t need to think too hard about it. Most of the scenes were filmed in the house, in the office, all conveniently made sets, the conveniently written scripts were written around the shitty budget.

And the high frame rate, in tandem with the inorganic lighting, the lack of special effects and just the lack of some careful camera movement, made the overall story and the overall view, underwhelming, not at all cinematic.

The soap opera effect.

Some wouldn’t see it. Others would probably notice it but not glaringly enough to complain. Levi had worked in film for years and when he would search for the characteristic motion blur, he would immediately find it. The culmination of a simple camera set up, a few sets, a cheap camera, and with a studio and network always in some hurry to cut the budget, the soap opera effect was very apparent.

And they would be expecting the same cooperation from him in putting together a cheaply made production. On the bright side, that meant that despite having to deal with some shitty soap opera plot that didn’t make any sense, he wouldn’t have to do too much thinking with lighting, blocking and editing. Planning sets and scenes would be a light stroll in the park at best, soul suckingly monotonous at worst.

Levi reached for the remote and started to rewind, his interest suddenly piqued.

“So what do you think happened to the baby?” Petra asked. She dropped a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

Levi wasn’t in any mood to eat. More importantly, he in the mood to speculate the cheap excuse for a plot. “Am I supposed to care?” He pulled his legs close to him and leaned further on the armrest of the sofa, giving Petra more than enough space to get herself comfortable.

“Well, you’re working on the set right? Better to at least know the major plot points of what you’re working with.”

“Spoil me,” Levi said.

Petra reached for the popcorn and grabbed a handful. She turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “You really don’t even wanna try to enjoy it?”

“This is a job. ”

Petra dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Well… Hanako gets kidnapped…”

“Hanako?”

“The baby…” Petra answered, looking pointedly at him. “They literally spent an episode discussing the baby’s name.” A laugh was very much evident in her voice.

And there are a hundred episodes to sift through. “I don’t have to know the baby’s name to do my job.”

“The baby will be the main character in the next season. If you have been reading the script--- Or even just following the story...” Petra put her hands out and pointed at the TV, starting to look more exasperated by the minute.

“Okay,” Levi responded firmly, not in any mood to stomach accusations. “Then I’ll learn her name when I start working. Just tell me what I need to know to do my job. ”

Petra sighed. “When we get back on air, there will be a time skip. Then the season post time skip picks up after Hanako’s first day of college. So before that she grew up with her adopted parents who found her abandoned in a box. They went through some tough times financially and in the latest pages of the script she gets a job in a coffee shop.” She turned towards the thick envelope on the table then glanced accusingly at him. “I could have sworn you were reading through that back in the cafe.”

Levi didn’t notice it. He had only half heartedly read the script. Still, he feigned a look of interest.

“Then a lot of the writers quit,” Petra continued. “So a lot of what happened hasn't been written yet.”

Levi flashed Petra a knowing look.

Petra sighed. "Apparently, people were overworked, the job didn't pay much so a lot of the crew, cinematographer, production designers, they all left which was most likely why they put you there.”

Levi only had to look back at his first day and his second day to understand the turnover rate. He had spent a little less than an hour familiarizing himself with systems that seemed to be put into place for show. Soon after that, he was bombarded with unreasonable deadlines, timelines, responsibilities outside his actual job title and a little less than two days to sift through eight seasons worth of scripts.

“And why they easily transferred me. We're really behind now.  Post production for the last few episodes should be completed this week, aired by next week.

"Then we have a hiatus at least," Levi said, repeating it with that same cold professional tone Erwin had used with him on their first day. Except he knew that was a scam too. They would be using that two week hiatus to start filing.

That reminder at least pulled Levi back into reality. He couldn’t flit mindlessly from side to side and clock it up as ‘learning the ropes’ forever. Eventually, they were going to ask him to actually know the ropes. “Erwin said something about me working with production proper and post production,” Levi mindlessly rewinded some of the scenes again. “But they can’t expect me to write the script right?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you will,” she said. “I talked to a few of the crew. They said they were hiring a writer. A whole writing crew actually--- And you know, among them, there are rumors about a big name screenwriter.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Joining the set of a daytime soap opera.”

She put her hands up in defense. “It’s just a rumor.”

“A stupid rumor. What kind of screenwriter in their right mind would want to work here?”

Petra paused for a second, deep in thought. “Fine, it might just be a rumor. Still, ask yourself, why would there be rumors circulating in the first place?"

Levi sighed. “Which screenwriter then?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to humor her. And himself. The fact that a big name screenwriter would work in soap operas, might actually make ‘soap operas’ work.

“Hange Zoe,” Petra said, a wry knowing look on her face. As if it was a name Levi was supposed to know.

“Hange Zoe?” And if he followed the same ups and downs of Petra’s tone, he could pretend it was familiar to his lips. “Hange Zoe,” he said again.

Petra nodded. “The writer of the Titan series? The final movie of `Advancing Titans’ is coming out in the fall.”

Advancing Titans. The name had seemingly come out of nowhere, especially when Levi had already run through a few possible names in his head. Hange Zoe hadn’t been one of them. Although she was a big name in the screenwriting industry for sure, the idea of Hange Zoe working with soap operas seemed almost preposterous.

“Hange Zoe…” Levi said it one more time, in surprise or in some attempt to practice saying it. “You’re seriously talking about that writer?” Levi looked to Petra for confirmation. Hange had only ever written one movie series from a completely different genre, which begged a question.“She has some experience in soap operas?”

Petra unlocked her phone, opened the browser and started typing and scrolling. “No… Just the movies…” she muttered a second later.

“Then why do you think she would suddenly want to work in a cheap ass day time soap opera?”

Petra looked back at him, a dumbfounded look in her face. “But the timing just fits too well. The final movie is about to be released. Apparently, she didn’t renew her contract with her studio. There are even rumors of her leaving the movie industry… And there were speculations and everything.”

“Retirement?” Levi suggested.

“Why retire in your thirties?” Petra said.

“Well, when you’re earning millions per script…” Levi trailed off. Thinking up an argument was too much of a tall order. He continued flipped through channels in silence and he had managed to pick out the movie ‘Advancing Titans’ by just a few seconds worth of a scene.

Speak of the devil.

But it wasn’t strange at all to come across the movies while flipping through channels. After all,  Advancing Titans had become a household name over the past few years.

A person in a green cloak was flying, killing some man eating a zombie. It was a familiar scene, Even Levi, who almost prided himself in never having watched the movies, was familiar enough with the iconic movements, the colors and the insignia on the back.

The wings of freedom. How the hell that was connected to the story, Levi never watched enough to find out. Nor was he interested. Science fiction and fantasy were just never his cup of tea.

If Levi had to guess, soap operas and crime dramas shouldn’t have been big wig screenwriter Hange Zoe’s cup of tea either, especially after dedicating years of her life into a production as complex as a science fiction, dark fantasy cinematic universe..

“Do you really think Hange Zoe can actually work with low budget soap operas?” Levi asked.

Petra shrugged and Levi wondered why he had even asked her in the first place. Of course, she wouldn’t know. Still, she spoke up. “Even if the rumors were wrong and it wasn’t Hange Zoe. The important thing is they get someone to pump out scripts right? And your job anyway is to make sure everything gets filmed.”

“I guess.” Levi kept his eyes trained on the screen. The scene shifted from a forest, to the cobblestoned streets in town. A parade of miserable soldiers entered the town within the walls. The camera focused on a father, who navigated through crowds of people, zooming in one of the shorter soldiers.

Captain, I wanted to talk to you about my daughter… She wrote me a letter… She’s too young to get married.

Something about the expression of the soldier pulled Levi in. For a moment, he was frozen on his seat, completely hypnotized.

Petra’s voice tore into his trance. “That’s one of the scenes I can never forget.”

In some desperate bout of retaliation, Levi switched the channel of the TV. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Why? You okay?” Petra asked.

“I’m fine. I’d rather watch something more productive.” Levi flipped more rapidly through channels. He was tempted to just turn off the TV and call it a night.

“There’s a lot to learn from watching that,” Petra started.

"Like what?" Levi asked, his grip on the remote was still firm.

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “It's hard to explain... but remember that scene just a while ago. The father approached the captain about his daughter… She died while fighting the titans and they had to empty the cart so they lost all the bodies..."

Levi kept his eyes glued to the screen, suddenly hyper aware that there might have been a judgemental or impatient look on his face. “Go on,” Levi said, as if that could do anything to placate the discomfort already apparent in her voice.

“I guess the point I wanted to make is…” Petra still seemed far from calm. “Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she writes really quality works apparently is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the blocking, to the screenwriting and just the overall production… Which makes the storyline and the movie so gripping. When I watch it, it feels like the movie is peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“A lot of the novelty of Hange Zoe’s writing… The parts that make it special are those in betweens. The parts she left unwritten... if you know what I mean?"

“That’s cool,” Levi responded, only barely. He switched to their local channel, to the late night reruns of the soap opera. .

“They’re good movies. I don’t think they were overrated," Petra said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"I never said they weren’t good movies."

"You don't seem to want to hear about it at all."

"I'm just not interested. Besides, I'm too busy with work." That was the right moment to feign business. Levi held his phone in front of him, opened up the browser and wrote out a few familiar keywords. The movies of the titan series were all ranging from four to five star ratings. Whether it had been commended for cinematography or writing, he had been too lazy to check the more detailed reviews.

The reviews were most likely raving, sloppily made and potentially biased and Levi didn’t want to hear another synonym for ‘peers into your soul.’

His eyes were drooping, he was exhausted. Petra seemed to be ready to leave as well. But he had some space, he needed some break. And what better way to spend it than to do a little stalking? "Petra, could you send a file of the first movie? I think I might wanna watch it."

"You can stream the older ones on demand," Petra said.

Levi only had to open the menu on his TV to see the option for streaming. Right. Watching movies was starting to feel like a chore though and he was in no mood watching that night.

He didn’t say much else after that and the night ended with greetings exchanged. Petra only lived a few floors below him and it didn’t feel any different from being alone.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep already. He gave up, turned off the TV and allowed himself to doze off. When he came to his senses again, the sun was streaming through the window, and with work starting in an hour or so, he had little to no time to even start the movie.

The set was small. The budget was miniscule. The turnover rate was high.

And for projects that wanted to disguise themselves as official and corporate, it was utter chaos. One week into his job, Levi had to admit, he was reaching too widely, and he was spread out too thin.

There was a semblance of structure within his team. Petra and Eld worked with cinematography, filming and camera management and all he had to do was make sure the blocking looked good, limit the amount of retakes needed. Gunther and Oluo worked in post production and video editing.

But structure was an illusion.

The actors hadn’t arrived yet. Other new roles hadn't been finalized. The script was still unfinished. Yet, they were under the mercy of the vision of higher ups

"We're heavily delayed,’ or so that was what Erwin had explained. ‘Feedback of the higher ups.”

There were deadlines, unreasonable deadlines for the employees, yet a reasonable wait for the average audience. They had less than a month to finish filming and post production for the first few episodes of the new season, less than a week to produce everything for the old season.

When he was in a pseudo-management role, as a cinematographer, it was automatic. When filming, he should be going down to the set. But they weren't filming yet. In fact, there were people in the set not doing anything.

In the chaos, everything didn't seem to add up. So Levi forced one memorandum, one attempt at structure. He would finish the final editing by that night and start the next day with a blank slate. Even if he needed to, he would stay until midnight to make it work.

That new writing team should be coming soon. Levi repeated to himself. Erwin had said so himself, Petra had also mentioned it excitedly over lunch.

All Levi had to do was get the episodes ready for review by the higher ups, then ready for airing then he could start that new season with a healthier approach, maybe find some way to add more structure to his already hectic job.

“Petra, don’t wait for me. I’m working overtime today.”

Petra jumped on her seat.

Levi only realized then, he had come up from right behind her. And Petra had been busy reading through something in her laptop, a quick glance confirmed, it was the unfinished script.

Levi continued. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Petra looked back at him, a worried look in her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Deadlines,” Levi answered.

“You need any help? You know Oluo and Gunther, they can stay too. Or even me.”

“I can finish it myself,” Levi said. He was completely aware either way that it was his job to review everything before anyone else reviewed and before it went on air.

There was an indignant look on Petra's face. But Petra never really imposed. She nagged, doted, argued but she never imposed.

And he managed to pacify her by requesting an espresso and a cup of tea from the tea shop right in front of the studio. Beverages were frowned upon in the video editing room. Levi though was particularly meticulous, he was tired and stressed and he allowed himself some leeway.

Just today. And when they start filming the new season, during the hiatus, Levi would reopen his work with a more organized approach, more suited for his personality. He constantly reassured himself of that as he continued to edit the videos, crosschecking with storyboards and scripts.

Most of the work had been done. Most of the work had been easy to scan through. Still it was hours of sifting through retakes, reviewing and setting them up for reviews and cuts. In the silence, completely alone, He gladly gave the task the required focus, more than enough not to have noticed the sound of the door click behind him.

“This is the coffee you asked for right?” The voice wasn’t Petra’s but still it didn’t seem at all hostile. In fact, the voice seemed friendly.

Friendly enough for Levi to feel obliged to respond.”Thanks.” A new hire maybe? In the one week he had been working there, three people had already quit.

It wasn’t worth a second thought. The important thing was he got his coffee and tea. So he didn’t bother looking up, only looking with his peripherals to see the paper white of the cup just a few inches away. He reached one hand towards the cup and surprisingly, his hand didn’t grasp for paper. It went for something a little softer, something a little cooler but still warm to the touch.

And it moved. A bug? A pest? That had been Levi’s first speculation, being the paranoid clean freak he was. Before his guesses could get anymore creative he looked at the cup and saw the cup was stable on his desk. He had a grip, not on the cup itself but on the other hand which held the cup. The movements were from a hand underneath his..

A wild hand. It slipped out of his grip, and before Levi could pull away, it gripped him in return, squeezing harder on his pointer finger and his middle finger.

For just a second. A painfully awkward second.

A second of realization was all Levi needed to pull away. “May I help you?” he asked. It took a lot more willpower not to curse at that strange invasion of privacy. A second later, reason took over and Levi realized that he was the one who had gripped her first.

He had planned to grip the coffee cup, he justified himself.

“They said… You needed some coffee.” The voice was nonchalant. Yet somehow, nonchalance had managed to make his blood boil. “So I came here to drop it and say hi,” she added, as if that was the most natural response.

‘Say hi’ didn’t usually involve two hands gripping one another, then interlocking. Her hands were still gripping the tip of his fingers and for a second they were frozen.. “Are you always this touchy then?” Levi pressed. Especially with a total stranger. Levi looked up, turned his head towards the voice and confirmed it, she was definitely a familiar face but they were barely even acquaintances.

Brown hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses propped comfortably on her nose and just underneath them, warm brown eyes that had no problem just staring, studying… And in their own way, leaving Levi very very jarred by the mundane gesture called ‘eye contact.’

“I was hoping to talk for a bit,” she said. “If you’re not too busy, we can---”

“I’m busy right now,” Levi said. He pulled the coffee closer to him, suddenly careful when awareness dawned on him abruptly. Suddenly, he was completely aware that the coffee cup was only a few inches away from the computer. “Can this wait?”

Those brown eyes were suddenly wider, a hint of surprise. Then they narrowed at him and Levi felt some pity blanket his already sluggish and aimless movements. Before he knew it, he was very very unproductive.

He had to do something. “My name is Levi by the way.” He was deliberately gentler that time and usually lowering his voice and slowing down did some magic to make him seem kinder than he usually seemed to new people. Or so, that had been what Petra had advised multiple times before.

Levi looked up, forced a subtle smile, a combination between a tightlipped line and crinkles at the edge of his mouth. The most he could manage for a courteous introduction.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. He noticed her eyes first, the way they widened. Her jaw dropped. She closed it again, a subtle twitch in her lip.

Did I say something wrong? Levi thought to himself. He looked back at the computer screen. “Levi… Levi Ackerman,” he added. Would that help ease the tension of the room?

Even when Levi started to make a game for himself, playing video edits again and again, he realized he was more focused on pretending to concentrate than in actually polishing the transitions between scenes.

Hange eventually spoke up. “Hello Levi. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was softer in that last sentence.

“Nice to meet you too.” That had been surprisingly difficult to say. He sensed the discomfort in her voice, and maybe he had unknowingly mirrored it.

“My name is Hange Zoe. I’m going to be working as a screenwriter here…”

Oh. Oh. So that’s Hange Zoe. For someone who spearheaded blockbuster hits, who had people talking like crazy over rumors, it turned out she was a very underwhelming presence.

“I’m the cinematographer here,” Levi said. Technically, that was his job title but at that point, he was doing everything. “So I guess we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“We will,” Hange responded. Her presence was underwhelming. So underwhelming that Levi felt no need to even be excited that they had a prodigy screenwriter in their midst. Her voice was soft when she spoke to him. Her eyes were some mix of disappointment, nervousness, uncertainty.

Levi suspected it was her demeanor, her approach towards him that had caused such tension to settle in such a tiny room. “Thank you for coffee,” Levi said. Any nice gesture seemed like a worthwhile attempt to ease it.

A wide smile played at Hange’s lips, still far from what Levi would have considered confident though. “Happy to help.”

That’s the award winning screenwriter? “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’m going to be working on a few scripts tonight, have Erwin look at them in a day or so,” she said. Her voice had shifted to something more professional, and her meekness was starting to feel more like a misinterpretation on Levi's end..

“Looking forward to them,” Levi said.

The door slammed behind him, a little louder than the click that followed. The room was dim, it was almost distracting. When Levi turned towards the lights, he considered turning it on, to save himself the discomfort of sore eyes.

He turned his chair, put enough wait into one leg only to notice the sluggishness, the numbness underneath. His legs were jelly. Her hands were trembling and his breaths weren’t coming out in predictable bouts. He turned back to the computer and prepared to review what he had already edited.

The video was playing and Levi was convincing himself that he was productive.

Halfway through the episode, or even a quarter through the episode (Levi wasn’t counting), his mind had wandered. When his surroundings just became a little too overwhelming, Levi let loose just a little bit. He let the heaviness in his chest and the stiffness of his limbs speak for him then.

That voice of a while ago, Hange Zoe’s voice. That voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic.

[pixiedoodlein]

10 days until school and I’m no more decided than I was a week ago. I flip flop ten times day about what might be best. A is sick of hearing me talk about it. He doesn’t disagree with my risk assessment but he is sick of talking about it.

It caused an issue with his friend, a friend who is his best friend and is unvaccinated and works in a jail. Months ago we told friend he could only visit (this place is their boyhood dream) once he’s vaccinated. Friend typically believes in science and is very health conscious but his gf is a moron Trump lover and her family the same and that’s who he’s been spending all his time with since this all started. When I asked friend why he’s not vaccinated he said he’s young & healthy, didn’t trust the vaccines, would do it when they got full fda approval. Plenty of young healthy people are dead of this. Anyway then I asked ok so what if you give it to someone who isn’t and dies, people incarcerated in the jail he works in and don’t have the luxury of social distancing, and he was like eh whatever. So yes friend is an asshole, but his best friend for decades, friend has always been kind of an asshole but has many redeeming qualities too. So we said no visit. But then in July when there was no covid here and no covid where he lives and we were blissfully living our covid free lives we loosened up and said he could visit with two negative tests. But then covid got bad again and when asshole friend contacted A the other day to say he took time off in late Sept to visit, A said sorry, it’s fully fda approved now you have no excuses not to vaccinate, we’re worried about our unvaccinated kids, and as of now you can’t visit but hey maybe if you get vaccinated and the numbers look better we can reassess in a month and you can come. Friend was a total dick about it, didn’t understand our point of view at all, stressed A about it, who was in a bad mood about it for days afterward.

Then there’s the neighbors. I had a chat with the kids and a chat with the mom. I framed it as we love them so much and I know they’re careful but I think we should all be more careful while the numbers are so rising (aka only outdoor hangouts) and we are careful but I’ve heard terrifying stories from doctor friends about kids and babies getting very sick, and they have a baby who I don’t want us to make sick, and she said she agreed. The kids have been pretty good about making the adjustment from constant sleepovers to playing outside but M keeps asking me “the kids need to pee are they allowed to use the bathroom, the kids are hungry are they allowed to come inside even for one minute for a snack,” and I feel like the villain (I’ve been saying yes to pee, snacks I’ll bring out). Everyone’s been understanding but nobody is getting what I mean when I say only outdoor socializing. All the kids keep asking me when I’ll take them to town again for ice cream, “but it’s outside” (um yeah but the car’s not), asking their mom to ask me for sleepovers even though they know what the answer will be. The other day they were playing in our yard then it started raining and they were like “we can’t walk home in the rain”- I don’t want them to walk home in the rain, but again the car is indoors!- so I drove them home (but made M stay at our house). They’re not my kids so I can’t make them wear masks and it feels like now I am in the position of being the mean parent who’s psycho about covid, which in a way I am, but it would help me to stick to my guns and feel okay about sticking to them if the government policies matched the severity of the situation, ie mask mandates in public places (instead of stores posting polite recommendations), vaccine mandates, virtual learning options, etc.

Which brings me to school. After selling M hard on real school, then I sold her hard on home school. She already “did” 3rd grade last year (as much as me teaching her in my pajamas counts as doing), but this district has an earlier cut off than the city, so she’s in 3rd grade again here. Which is fine by me- her birthday is the same day as the very late nyc cut off (12/31) and I hated that she was the absolute youngest. I used to beg the school to hold her back and they’d say “but why she’s doing so well!” not understanding that I was thinking ahead to the teen years. But anyway, despite her haphazard pj’d professor, she seemed to learn a lot last year so homeschool this year could basically be unschool. She’d traipse around the forest identifying birds and trees with A and her brother, reading for pleasure, and I’d spend an hour here and there reviewing some worksheets with her so she’d be on track when she starts real school after she gets vaccinated. She was into the idea, until she found out she and one of the neighbor kids are in the same class. Now she absolutely wants to go to real school, AND ride the school bus. The school bus part makes me very nervous. While there is now a school mask mandate (but will it be enforced? what are their lunch procedures, what % of teachers are vaccinated, what % of the older kids in the same building as the little kids are vaccinated, did they actually really update their ventilation system?) and a bus mask rule, it’s a long rural route (15 min drive or 45 min bus) and I have no faith that bus windows will be open and all riders will be masked the whole time.

So just tell her she can go to school but has to be driven by a parent, right? Not so simple. I was offered a job at a (somewhat, commuting distance) nearby nonprofit- an easy low stress job in a bastion of liberalism with very very nice smart coworkers, excellent work life balance, a writing job that sounds made for me, like the job description is exactly what I would put together if I were putting together my dream job (except the pay, which is half what I was making at a fancy DC nonprofit, but high for this area, and our housing cost is half so it should be fine if A can get away from little guy long enough to bring in some money too). It’s mostly remote but approx one day a week in the office and some days there will be things I need to attend out in the community (not necessarily our community, they serve the whole region). It won’t always be the same day in the office and the office is an hour away- so on those days A would have no car to get her to and from school, since I’d need to leave before school starts and get home after it’s done. So I guess we need to buy a new car? Aside from this issue we really don’t need a second car now, were planning to get one eventually, but not until A’s business has enough projects to justify the cost.

Despite its many demands/challenges/ stressors, home school is sounding easier to me at this point (especially because she already did this grade), except she WANTS to go to school. Someone talk me out of putting some lipstick and a pantsuit on her and taking her to get vaccinated. I know, I know: the 5-11 dosage is 1/3 of the 12-adult dosage. The doctors I’ve spoken to are split on this hypothetical kamikaze mission. The doctors I’ve spoken to are also split on me and A going to a pharmacy now for booster. It’s been almost 6 months since our 2nd dose. We do not have compromised immune systems. This county has way more doses than demand and I would feel better sending M to school (bus or not) if we had our boosters and she had a first dose- moral and scientific quandaries aside- because there is A LOT of covid here now, a lot of covid everywhere now, and I feel like we are returning to regular life at the time when we should be most hunkered down.

Which brings me to the data. Per capita there are as many known cases here as in nyc, except nyc has a 50% higher vax rate, much more mask usage, better medical system. People are not getting enough tests here, there is a higher positivity rate, and so I think the actual number of cases is much higher than the reported number of cases. It seems like, friends here and in the city and in the suburbs (I just broke up with a friend in the suburbs because she professes to be a good democrat but is hosting a bonafide super spreader event and vacationing in a place with 39% positivity and a collapsed health care system), are thinking of covid as something you catch from strangers- they wear masks in stores- but aren’t careful at all around close friends and family (so many extended family gatherings, so many, cousins and grandparents and half-siblings and aunts and uncles and whoever), when this is a disease that kills via the people you love most, the ones who’d never intentionally hurt you.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | 

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

 When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

 You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

 “Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

 “Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

 Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

 “Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

 The knock came again.

 “Ma’am?”

 Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

 “You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

 “Good morning, ma’am.”

 You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

 “How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

 “Much, thank you.”

 He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

 “How did you sleep? Any pain?”

 “No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

 Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

 You nodded again.

 “May I begin my examination?”

 Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

 Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

 “And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

 “Not really,” you confessed.

 “As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

 Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

 “Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

 Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

 “Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

 “I am diagnosing it now.”

 You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

 “It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

 “I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

 “Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

 “What kind of changes?”

 “Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

 “Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

 “Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

 “Bed rest?”

 “Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

 You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

 “I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

 “I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

 “God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

 “Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

 Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

 “Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

 Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

 “What exactly do you suggest then?”

 “What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

 “Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

 “Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

 “Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

 “No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

 Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

 Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

 Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

 “I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

 “Two days?”

 The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

 “No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

 Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

 “Fuck.”

 You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

 “I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

 “I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

 Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

 What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

 You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

 “Are you all right?”

 You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

 Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

 “Xari.”

 Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

 “Nika!”

 She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

 “Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

 “I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

 “I don’t get it. How are you?”

 Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

 “Him. He’s how I’m here.”

 You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

 “I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

 “Henry, please, I insist.”

 Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

 Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

 “He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

 You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

 Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

 “Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

 “Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

 “Excuse me?”

 His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

 “While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

 Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

 “Is that right?”

 “Why are we leaving?”

 Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

 “According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

 “I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

 “Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

 “He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

 “Nika!”

 “What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

 “I must agree with Lady Anika.”

 Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

 Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

 You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

 Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

 “If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

 “My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

 Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

 “I bet,” Anika finished.

 “Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

 “Thank you.”

 He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

 “Are you leaving?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

 With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

 “Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

 You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

 “Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

 He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

 “Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

 You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

 “Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

 “Fuck censor.”

 “Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

 Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

 Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

 “Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

 You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

 “What are you grinning at?”

 “You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

 “No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

 Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

 “First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

 “Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

 You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

 “You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

 You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

 “Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

 The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

 A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

 “Hi.”

 You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

 “My god, you are beautiful.”

 You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

 “You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

 She giggled but still looked genuine.

 “I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

 “It’s nice to meet you.”

 “I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

 You smiled and assured her it was fine.

 “How are you doing?”

 You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

 She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

 “Brother.”

 “Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

 She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

 “No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

 Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

 “Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

 You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

 “The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

 “What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

 “It’s okay.”

 “No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

 “Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

 You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

 “Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

 When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

 When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

 “Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

 “I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

 You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

 Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

 “Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

 “No. I’m all right.”

 She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

  ~~~~~

 -Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

 Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

 “Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

 This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

 This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

 “Christ,” he whispered.

 “Are you all right?”

 Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

 “I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

 “No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

 You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

 “You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

 A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

 “Can’t we ask each other?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

 “Liar.”

 His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

 “I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

 “You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

 You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

 He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

 Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

 “Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

 You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

 “So you are implying I look bad.”

 You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

 “I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

 A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

 You looked at him but didn’t answer.

 “I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

 You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

 “Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

 He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

 “Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

 You pinched your lips.

 “Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

 “Today was the first day in just as much time.”

 Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

 You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

 “Thank you.”

 When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

 “You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

 He shrugged.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

 That made him happy.

 “Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

 “Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

 “Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

 Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

 “Dinner is served.”

 The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

 “I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

 He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

 “Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

 You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

 “What was that, your highness?”

 That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

 The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

 “I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

 You paused with your fork in your mouth.

 “It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

 “Clark Kent. Superman.”

 “Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

 A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

 “What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

 He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

 “It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

 He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

 “Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

 He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

 “Oh, this, I must hear.”

 “No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

 He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

 “So?”

 “None of those.”

 “Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

 Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

 He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

 “I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

 Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

 Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

 He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

 “What did—what did you expect?”

 You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

 “I am happy it is pleasantly.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

 “What’re you working on?”

 He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

 The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

 “Want me to take a look?”

 “Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

 You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

 “Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

 He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

 “This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

 “No critique?”

 “How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

 He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

 You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

 You were right.

 “I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

 “Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

 “You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

 He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

 “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

 He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

 He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

 “I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

 “Let me help you.”

 You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time.  When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

 “I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

 “Thank you for this,” you said.

 He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

 “You have my email?”

 “I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

 “Good night, Xari.”

 “Good night, your highness.”

  He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 9

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 9

Chapter Summary: What happens when a busy schedule leaves you lonely?

Rating: 18+

Chapters:  {Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8}

It had been weeks since Faye had seen Henry outside of work. Henry's schedule was packed with choreography practice, training, filming and hush hush phone and zoom interviews he refused to tell Faye anything about. She was starting to get the feeling he had given up on her and was moving on. Why else would he refuse to tell her anything about this 'project' he was working on? Not a single clue was dropped. He continuously sited 'not wanting to jinx it' as his reasoning for not telling her. She was banned from his house for the last three weeks, finding herself right back where this had all started. Could it even be called a relationship? They had never agreed to be exclusive or anything, so it wasn't like she could lay some sort of claim on the man. It seemed he was drifting further and further away with every passing day.

Briar was taking it harder than her mother was. He was the first male presence outside of her grandfather and uncle she regularly had contact with. To say she had quickly become attached was an understatement. One particularly heartbreaking evening, she had convinced herself he would be coming over and bringing "Princess Kal" as she had dubbed the poor canine. She sat by the front window, clutching her stuffed bunny stubbornly until far after her bedtime, finally breaking down into hysterical sobs when she realized he really wasn't coming. Faye's texts to Henry about the child's expectations went unanswered.

A few days ago, Mrs. Anderson was unable to babysit, leaving Faye no choice but to either call in sick, or bring her daughter with her to work. Last time hadn't caused much of a problem, so hopefully she would be able to get away with it again. Just as long as it didn't become a habit, it wouldn't be a problem, right? It really wasn't, either. For the first hour or so, the child sat in the corner of the makeup trailer, mesmerized by the movie playing on her tablet. Faye had breezed through the battle wounds on some dwarves and applied the prosthetic ears on the elves in that time, her daughter calmly tucked away the entire time.

Then came time for Henry to get into the makeup chair. The second he stepped foot into the trailer, Briar had latched herself onto his legs, sobbing and clutching his pant leg like her little life depended on it. To say Henry panicked would be an understatement.

"I told you she missed you." Faye shrugged. In fact, she had mentioned several times how Briar kept asking about him. It was a bit of a wakeup call as far as her dating life was destined to go. If Henry was only around for a few months and Briar had attached herself so firmly to him, what would happen if Faye actually dated someone and spent even more time with him? Briar would be devastated if it didn't work out.

"I'm so sorry, princess." Henry soothed, detaching the toddler from his leg and scooping her up, letting her continue to cry into his neck. "I've been busy, I wasn't trying to make you sad." He assured, sitting in the makeup chair with the little girl still clinging to his shirt.

Faye may have failed to mention the multiple meltdowns she'd had to endure due to his sudden absence, but why should she bother the man with it? It's not like it was his job to pacify her daughter. She just wished the little girl hadn't grown so attached to him in the short time she had known him.

Briar completely refused to be apart from Henry for the rest of the day, perching herself in his chair while he filmed, staring intently at him as she clutched her bunny to her chest, whimpering unsurely the first few takes of a particularly rough fight sequence. Thankfully, she had calmed quickly, Faye explaining to the little girl that he was just playing pretend and wasn't going to get hurt.

She had reattached herself to him the second he drew too close, practically climbing him like a monkey to cling to his neck again. Faye was past the point of trying to stop her by then. She had been the one dealing with it ever since he had decided to vacate the little girl's life. At least now he could see first hand why Faye had been so irritable with him lately.

He vowed to Facetime later that night to say goodnight to the little girl when he had strapped her into her car seat that evening, the child unwilling to let her mother take her to the car by herself. His promise didn't stop her from sobbing the whole way home. The poor girl cried herself out by the time Faye had pulled into the driveway, half asleep all the way through dinner, ultimately passing out at the table, a forkful of pasta clutched in her chubby fist.

To his credit, Henry had called later that night, well after Briar's bedtime. Again, he apologized profusely for his insane schedule in the voicemail he had left. Faye wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, too drained from her daughter's most recent meltdown.

Now, here he stood at her doorstep five days later, his shoulders slumped in defeat and a pleading look on his face as Faye blocked his entry into her home with her tiny body.

"Can I help you?" Faye asked calmly, crossing her arms and leaning against her door frame.

"Faye, please, can we talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" Faye brushed him off, fixing him with a cold look.

"You're avoiding me."

"Excuse the fuck out of you?" Faye hissed, stalking toward him and shutting the door harshly behind herself. "I'm avoiding you? Are you seriously going to pretend the last three weeks never happened? One second, you're around all the time, the next I only see you at work. You dodge my calls, refuse to see me and break my three year old daughter down into hysteria thinking she did something wrong. Please, go on, tell me how I'm the one avoiding jack shit here!"

"I deserve that." Henry sighed, roughly shoving a hand through his untamed curls.

"Goddamn right you do." Faye hissed, fury burning intensely in her usually wide, innocent brown eyes.

"Please, Faye. Can you hear me out?"

"What's there to talk about? You got bored and you left me behind. I don't want your fucking excuses."

"I promise, I wasn't trying to avoid you, and I didn't get bored of you!" Henry growled, anger taking over his once apologetic face at her accusations.

"Then what the hell is it? Please, tell me why I should be okay with only being in your life when it's convenient to you."

"I've been busy, Faye! My life doesn't revolve around you!" Faye's entire body tensed at his outburst, returning his fiery gaze with a cold stare.  

"And mine doesn't revolve around you either, Mr. Cavill. If you don't have time for us, that's fine. I understand we aren't a priority for you. You've made that much clear. That doesn't mean I have to be at your beck and call whenever you can fit me in. I have my own life. I have a daughter to take care of, and I don't need you breaking her heart every time you can't spare a goddamn second for her."

"I wasn't trying to hurt her. I wasn't trying to push you away." Henry seethed. "You think I enjoyed being away for this long? You think I liked not spending time with you?"

"You make time for the things that matter, Mr. Cavill. Clearly, that's not us." Faye replied, her calm tone slashing through Henry's heart worse than any previous rage or hostility could. These were not words created by anger and meant to hurt him in the heat of the moment. This was coming from a detached, practical place in her mind. This was something she had thought about, long and hard.

"Faye." Henry sighed, his tense shoulders falling in defeat. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt Briar. The time I've spent with you two these last few months have been the happiest I've been in years. I understand if you don't want to see me, but I really wish you would. I... damnit, I fucking need you two." He admitted shakily, his eyes falling to Faye's feet, taking notice of the black ink covering the top of her right foot for the first time. Had he really paid so little attention that he hadn't even noticed that? Was he really that detached from something that brought him so much unconditional joy?

"And what am I supposed to do when you vanish again? It's the life you live, Mr. Cavill-"

"Henry. Please, call me Henry." He pleaded softly, each utterance of the removed name feeling like a knife to his heart.

"You aren't tied down to one place. You travel all the time. Why should I let you continue hurting us? What promise can you possibly give us that you won't just leave again?"

"I never left, I've been right here." Henry whispered, unsure hands coming to rest on her hips, slowly lowering his forehead to rest against hers. He had no idea when they had gotten so close during their argument, but he had to admit, it felt good to hold her again. "Please. I promise, I won't vanish again. If I can't be here in person, I'll call, I'll Facetime, I'll send video messages, I'll text. I will do anything and everything I can to be here for you."

"Then what happens when you find someone else?" Faye countered, remaining stiff in his hold, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest, subconsciously trying to block him out and build a wall between them.

"I'm not looking for anyone else." Henry assured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

"Doesn't mean you won't find her."

"Then this mystery woman can sod off. I'm not interested." Henry hummed, pulling Faye closer to wrap his arms around her, resting his cheek atop her head, her tension slowly fading away with his embrace. "Can you forgive me for being an ass?" He asked hopefully, peppering the top of her head with kisses.

"This time. There won't be a next time. I don't have time to invest in someone that won't make any time for me."

"I promise, I will make time for you two." Henry vowed, reluctantly taking a step back to look into her face. "Would it be too much to ask to come inside? I sure could use one of Briar's special cups of tea."

"Mmm, you might be out of luck then. She's decided she wants to be a knight instead now." Faye informed him, slipping away from his desperately clutching hands to push the door open, Briar freezing in the middle of charging through the house on her hobby horse, sword in hand when she saw the man standing outside.

"You're back?!" She gasped, dropping her toys and bolting past her mother, Henry catching her as she rushed him, hoisting her into his arms and letting the little girl sling her arms around his thick neck. "I sorry... I be good." She sniffled, her chubby hands gripping his collar tightly.

"Oh, sweetie. Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." Henry soothed, rubbing her back softly. "I was the one that was naughty, can you forgive me for being mean to you and your mommy?"

"Don't go." Briar whimpered, burrowing further into his neck, her sobs only increasing at his apology.

"I won't, I won't." Henry promised, smoothing down her wild, uncombed hair, looking fearfully up at the child's mother. Was this what she had been dealing with since he had been away?

"She got it in her head you were mad at her, and that's why you weren't coming around anymore." Faye explained, nodding him inside.

"I'm so sorry." Henry repeated, holding the toddler a little tighter as he slid past her mother, perching himself on the arm of the couch as she sobbed into his neck.

"You understand why I'm not too keen on second chances?" Faye sighed, locking the door behind herself. "I'm not going to keep putting her though this. I don't expect you to change your lifestyle, so when we fall to the backburner again, please, do me a favor and stay gone. It's not fair to her."

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I truly have been busy."

"I know. That's your life." Faye shrugged, leaning against the archway to the living room.

"What can I do to make it up?"

"You can't. You just have to understand that this is the last time I will allow this to happen. If you get too busy for us again, I won't open the door the next time you come knocking." Faye's declaration hung in the air, the sureness of her voice leaving no room for argument or further exchange of words. A desperate sort of silence befell the two adults, the only noise in the house being made by the small girl in Henry's arms.

Briar's sobs slowly gave way to small sniffles and hiccups, her tiny hands refusing to release his shirt, unashamedly wiping her nose on the fabric. Henry was the one to finally break the suffocating silence that had taken over the room.

"Could I ask for your help with something?"

"What might that be, Mr. Cavill?"

"Please, Faye. Henry. Call me Henry, or anything else really. I didn't mean to hurt you or set us back months. Call me any number of mean names, just... not that." Henry pleaded, resting his head against Briar's.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need to shave my head." Henry sighed after a long moment, turning sad eyes up to her.

"You want me to shave your head?"

"You're the only one I trust to do it right now."

"You literally have a hairstylist on set."

"This is different." Henry insisted.

"How is this different?"

"Believe it or not, I like my hair. Shaving it off isn't exactly a fun time for me."

"Is the tape getting to painful to remove?" Faye asked, raising an inquisitive brow.

"I mean, it will be a plus not having to deal with that for a while, but no. I... I have a screen test in a few days. Over zoom, but a screen test none the less."

"Oh, congrats."

"But the role calls for a military style cut." Henry continued. "Which means it all has to go."

"What role is it for?" Faye asked, crossing the room to run her fingers through his unruly curls.

"Mass Effect." Henry divulged, leaning into her touch.

"So you showed up for a haircut?" Faye asked, detangling his hair with her fingers.

"I showed up because I missed you, but it made me realize you're the only one I'm comfortable with doing it. I've been dreading it for over a week now."

"I only have scissors here. The best I can do is a hack job." Faye informed, continuing to play with his hair absently. It was so soft when he didn't try to tame it. The products that kept it in check, looking so neat and orderly, always made it stiff and crunchy. His natural hair was a thing of beauty.

"I have clippers back at my house. You're both more than welcome to stay the night."

"You know Briar won't stay in the guest room." Faye sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm fairly certain I'm not in good enough standing with you for us to be doing anything that young eyes shouldn't see." Henry chuckled, looking hopefully up at the woman gently running her nails over his scalp.

"You are not." Faye confirmed around a giggle of her own, playfully tugging at his hair.

"Easy, love, the baby is right here." Henry lightheartedly scolded, raising his brow at her.

"You should have mentioned you enjoyed that sooner. No time to take advantage of it before I chop it all off now." Faye sighed, reluctantly letting her hand fall away, Henry reaching out to pull her closer, looking up at her hopefully.

"What are the odds I can talk you out of a kiss?" He asked, staring longingly at her mouth. Faye smirked and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, leaning down to allow him to press a slow, affectionate kiss to her lips, reluctantly pulling back when Briar began to stir from her crying fueled power nap against his neck. "There you are, sleepy head." Henry chuckled, easing the child down to his lap instead.

"You here?" Briar asked, rubbing her still red eyes, staring up at him with a wobbly lower lip.

"I'm here. Would it be ok if you and Mommy stay at my house tonight?" Henry asked, wiping away the dried tears from her face.

"I bring Bunny?" She asked, her face finally splitting into a grin when Henry agreed to her request.  

"You go get Bunny, I'll pack you a few things." Faye instructed, Henry reluctantly setting the girl down so she could do as her mother asked.

"Thank you, so much." Henry sighed, pulling the tiny woman against his large frame, dropping his head to rest against the top of her chest.

"For letting you use my tits as a pillow?" Faye teased, running her fingers through his hair again, wanting to memorize the feel of his curls before she had to chop them all off.

"Secuititty." Henry chuckled, pulling her in to straddle his hips, needing to be even closer to her. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

"Try not to blow it."

"I'll do my absolute best."  

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny