#I dunno if I still have any but it's interesting how that dwindled down to basically never over time

[sysig]

Some scribbles :) (Patreon)

[illogicalpunkwrites]

What Water Gave Me

Hello everyone! This one is...interesting. I dunno, have fun! Thank you for reading and please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!Reader

Rating: M (18+)

Warning: Sex pollen, smut, ABO dynamics, cursing, angst

Words: 4.4K

Tags: @bloodangelballerina @theweepingvulcan91

None of you found out about it until it was too late. Visiting a new planet was always exciting, especially when it was far different from Earth. None of the biologists knew what would happen when the crew drank the water until the first person started showing symptoms. That first person was none other than

your brother and the captain, Jim Kirk. He started behaving erratically, nearly pushing over other people to make sure Carol wasn’t messed with. She started to sweat and you hurried over to pull them away from each other. While you and Jim used to rough house in your younger days, you weren’t used to him actually trying to fight you. He got a couple of hits in, some of them really hurting you before you were able to gather yourself.

“Jim!” You yelped as he swung at you again, ducking just in time. You swept your leg out from under him, sending him to the ground so some members of your security team could hurriedly incapacitate him.

“No! Let him go!” Carol sobbed.

“Get Jim to his quarters and lock him in using the override!” You barked. You made a hysterical Carol sit down in the Captain’s chair and wiped her forehead. She started squirming in the seat and you kept trying to ask her questions, but she only called for Jim. Calling him…alpha?

“Uhura, call Bones and tell him what’s going on. Tell the same thing to Science Division.” You didn’t hear a response and looked over the top of the chair. “Nyota?” She was fanning herself, looking at Spock whose knuckles were blanched white as he gripped the console. “Sulu, can you leave your station for a minute and get Spock to his quarters? He might try to fight you but he seems okay right now.” He was the right person to ask. With what information you gathered, anyone who had any sort of partner was susceptible to what was going on. Luckily, his was back on Earth.

“What do you think’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll get those two back to their quarters and call medbay-”

“Sciences to Bridge.” The console beeped in and you sighed.

“This is Commander Kirk, report.” You demanded, already overwhelmed with what little you had dealt with in such a short amount of time.

“We’ve tested some samples from the planet and found something interesting. The water contains some sort of hormone that-“

“Drives people insane?”

“It establishes A/B/O dynamics within the population.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked incredulously.

“Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamics, Commander.” Spock explained, his voice strained as Sulu led him to the elevator.

“No don’t take him!” Nyota got up to head towards the elevator but you jumped over to grab the back of her dress. “No! Alpha!” The doors closed and you let her go to nearly paw at them. Her dress was soaked through with sweat and a puddle of…something was forming underneath her.

“Medbay to bridge!” Leonard’s voice came through, sounding frustrated and tired.

“Bones, it’s (Y/N)! What’s going on?”

“I’ve got people trying to kill me down here on one side of the room and people crying on the other.”

“Are they all couples?”

“Most of them, their partners came and found them. I don’t think they liked me being near ‘em”

“We need to get everyone affected in their quarters, apparently the water establishes A/B/O dynamics.”

“My god.” He groaned. Normally, you would’ve laughed but you were highly stressed.

“I’ll send a security team down there to help out. Kirk out.” You explained before switching over to the ship wide intercom. “This is Security Commander Kirk, I need all personnel that drank water from Ni-bu to go to their private quarters immediately. If you do not follow orders you will be forcibly moved by security. I repeat, leave your stations and return to your quarters immediately.” You ended the call and grabbed Nyota and Carol. You got into the elevator and pulled out your communicator. “Kirk to Sciences division, please tell me there’s a cure for this thing.”

“We’ll have to go to K-7 for that, good thing is we’re not the only ones that have dealt with this. There was another planet like the one we were at that The Pegasus had to deal with.”

“Alright, I’ll tell Chek-“ You stopped and shook your head, knowing how flirtatious the Russian was. “I’ll get back up there and set the coordinates.” Pulling your friends along was like pulling two feisty Chihuahuas: they kept pulling away from you, kept yelping for their alphas, and at one point Carol actually bit you. Once that chore was done, you sprinted back up to the bridge to put in the coordinates and called for Sulu.

“Hikaru, you alright?”

“A little scraped up but I’m fine. Security’s doing a good job down here, some of your workers are affected by it though.”

“You think you can stay down there and help them out? I’m working on getting Bridge settled down.”

“You got it, but you owe me big time.”

“Next round’s on me when we get to K-7.” You chuckled before calling out. “Alright Chekov, let’s-“

“ENGINEERING TO BRIGE!” Jaylah screeched and your blood left your body. You had nearly forgotten about engineering. A large section of them went to Ni-bu to help fix some of the infrastructure and technology.

“Jaylah, are you alright?”

“Everyone down here is going crazy! Security is here but there is not nearly enough of them! I need help!”

“Where’s Scotty?”

“He went to go find Lieutenant Mira!” You groaned and grabbed Chekov by the back of his shirt while some other people from security grabbed most of the bridge.

“I’ll be down there as soon as I can, keep doing what you’re doing!”

XXXXXX

Hours later, the whole situation was defused with everyone who was affected locked in their rooms. Those who didn’t seem affected, the Betas, roamed around the halls like dead men walking. Sanitation swept and mopped the halls where puddles of “slick” had been left. You dragged your feet and nearly your entire body ached by the amount of times you had either been rammed into, hit, or bit by your crew mates. You saw Sulu and you gave each other a congratulatory hug.

“You owe me so much more than a round of drinks. This is not in my job description.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“Thank you so much.” While most of your team had been okay, it had dwindled down severely by the time engineering was wrangled off. Scotty surprised you with how wily he was, giving you a run for your money. Thankfully, Jaylah helped you out and you threw him into his office.

Sulu pulled away and looked up and down at you, you had some cuts here and there and were bruised up. While it wasn’t the worst your body had faced, you’d still seen better days.

“Go to Medbay, Kirk. Your job is done for now and I’m sure McCoy could see a friendly face.” You smiled weakly and made your way down. When you came to the door it didn’t slide open so you knocked instead.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me! Lemme in!” After a few beeps on the PADD, the door slid open and you hurried in before it locked back behind you. You saw Leonard at his desk with a bottle of whiskey. His shirt was torn in some places and you could see the beginnings of a black eye. “Well, Doc, you look like you had an eventful day.” He snorted in response and poured you a glass.

“Please tell me we’ll get to K-7 soon.”

“We should be there by tomorrow morning. Sulu’s gonna get some rest before so he can get us in. I think the plan is for medbay to come to us to give us the hypospray.” You explained and took a large gulp, feeling the burn go down your throat. Leonard looked at the bruise on your jaw and you shrugged.

“It was Jim, nothing I can’t handle.”

“And the bites?”

“Carol, Scotty, and some others I can’t even remember.”

“Scotty bit you?”

“I had him in a choke hold.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “The female Alphas gave me a run for my money.”

“I think I can add this to the list of reasons why I hate space.” He finished up his drink and went to go grab a med kit to sterilize the wounds. You’d have to wait a couple of days to get the scars removed.

“Because it makes people unbelievably horny?” He laughed at that one, making you smile. “I’m glad that it wasn’t a free for all though, people were focused on either their partners or the people they’ve had a crush on.”

“My god I don’t even want to imagine what it would’ve been like if it’d been a free for all.”

“But I’m surprised, Len. You struck me as an Alpha.” You joked.

“I thought you’d be an Alpha.” He retorted. “You’re the one the one that fights everything.”

“I do not! I only fight when it’s needed!”

“Which is why you’re in here so often.” You finished off the whiskey and held out your left arm where one of the bites was. “You need to be more careful.”

“Hey, I didn’t know Carol would bite me!” You replied with a smile.

“I wonder why though? No one tried to bite me.”

“I’m the hotter one of the Kirk siblings?”

“Okay, I’m with you there.”

“I have to say, I like you a little roughed up. You look like an action hero.” He chuckled and knelt on the ground in front of you, antiseptic in hand.

You felt something when he touched you, something stirring within you. You tried to shake it off but you couldn’t as it grew. As he cleaned your wounds you could feel your body temperature rising and you became incredibly uncomfortable. As you looked at him you could see him tense up with his brows furrowing even more than they usually did and his grip on you tightening. You started squirming in your seat, your inner thighs becoming coated with something as you looked at Leonard. Oh god, was that slick? Once he was done with all of the open wounds he put his kit to the side shakily. You realized, even in your foggy state, he was trying to maintain composure. Your slick dripped down to the floor, making it hard for both of you to ignore. Now you realized what you both were and why neither of you had experienced symptoms all day. He was an Alpha, and you were his Omega.

“Leonard.” You whispered, nearly whined. He looked back at you and then to the bruise on your jaw. He brought his fingers to it and pressed on it gently, making you wince.

“You’re burning up.” He stated softly, his breathing picking up and voice gravelly. “You need to leave.”

When he said that, everything in your system freaked out. You leapt on him from the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck and straddling him. He caught you with his fingers against your ribs.

“Leonard, please.” You started kissing his neck, making his fingertips dig into you. He smelled so good, like something homey and warm with a splash of whiskey,  and you couldn’t help but grind yourself against his hard cock. He let out a stuttered moan, his composure melting away as he felt your unbelievably wet pussy against him. “Alpha!” You cried softly.

That’s when it snapped away, Leonard picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him. He hurried over to his private office and you two fell onto his little cot, his lips smashing into yours. You moaned and arched your body into his, wanting as much contact as possible. His tongue slid into your mouth as you kicked your boots off and worked on his shirt.

“Off.” You whimpered. He sat back away from you and pulled down the zipper on your dress before sliding it off of you. You pulled his shirt off and pulled him back to you as he worked on the clasp of your bra.

“Such a pretty little ‘mega.” He slurred before laving his tongue down your bruised jaw, pain not even resonating with you at this point. He dropped your bra to the side, kissing and nipping down your neck and collarbone. His tongue circled around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, kneading the other one with his hand. He was rougher than you thought he would be, teething at your pebbled nipple. You wondered if he was like this all the time. You rocked your hips up against him, wanting more than just that.

“Alpha, please!” You whined, making him chuckle. His hands drifted down the sides of your body to grip the elastic of your panties and pull them down your legs. He started pressing wet kisses down your stomach as his hands spread your legs to slot himself between them. You felt his breath against your pussy and you squirmed towards him, thighs enclosing around his head.

“God, you look-“ He didn’t even finish his sentence before burying his head in between your legs, his tongue circling your clit and tasting your slick. You arched your back and wove your fingers into his hair as an unruly moan escaped you. You felt your pussy growing even wetter and he groaned against you, the vibrations sending ripples through you. He sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it.

“Fuck! Alpha!” He looked up at you as you pulled his hair. “Please, need your cock, need your cock!”

You’d never begged like this before and you were sure you wouldn’t have if you weren’t in this state. He crawled back up your body and you pulled his head down to yours to kiss him, tasting yourself. Your hands shot down to his work pants and you palmed his straining cock, making him gasp into your mouth. You shakily undid the button and zipper before pulling them down and seeing his erection bob against his stomach. Your breathing got even heavier as he helped pull his pants off the rest of the way, his shoes thudding as they hit the ground. You leaned up to kiss and nip at his neck as you stroked his cock, trying to lead him to your pussy.

“Shit darlin’, Omega-“ He cut himself off with a grown and pulled your hand away, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your pussy to coat it in slick. You needed more. You locked your legs around his waist and pulled him as close to you as you possibly could. “You ready, my Omega?”

“Please, Alpha.” You whispered as he kissed your forehead. Then you felt his cock enter you slowly, stretching you perfectly and making you keen against him. He breathed out loudly and slowly as he seated himself fully inside of you, your fingernails digging into his back. The both of you stayed just like that for a moment or two, foreheads against each other and breathing heavily. He leaned down to kiss you and you swore you had never felt so loved and protected. You started rocking your hips against his and he took the hint, rolling his hips back so that he was almost completely out of you before rutting back in. “Yes!”

“Feel so good, ‘mega” He slurred against you, starting a slow rhythm. But still you needed more. Your head lolled to the side, exposing your neck to him and he leaned down to suck your pulse point into his mouth. He started thrusting faster into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made you let out high pitched noises into his ear. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit deliciously and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You felt like you couldn’t even speak anymore as your pussy started tightening even more around him, making him quiver a little. He looked down at you and you brought your hands to his face and neck to caress him more as your body bounced with his thrusts.

“Close, Alpha.” You warned and he leaned down to kiss you. The coil in your lower belly tightened even more and one more perfectly angled thrust did you in, a puddle of slick soaking into the sheets as you felt tingling flood your body. You cried out into Leonard’s mouth as your entire body stiffened with the intensity of your orgasm. Leonard’s thrusts started becoming sloppy and his grip on your body tightened. As you rode your high, something in the back of your mind still wanted more.

“Cum inside me” His eyes widened before gripping your thighs to put your legs over his shoulder, leaning towards you so you were folded. You shrieked out and threw your head back at him suddenly being so unbelievably deep. His arms wrapped around you as you bit his tanned shoulder, making him gasp into your ear and his hips stuttered against yours. With one final deep thrust, you felt his hot cum coat your walls. You whimpered at your oversensitivity but finally felt satiated, almost complete in a way. His body went limp against yours but you didn’t loosen your grip, neither did he. Your fever went away and the slick seemed to have stopped, but you wanting him didn’t.

“Stay.”

XXXXXX

You knew it was early when you woke up, but you weren’t sure how much longer you had before you docked at K-7. You felt sore all over, sticky, and still beyond tired. However, your head was fairly clear and you weren’t feeling feverish. You looked behind you and saw Leonard still asleep with his arm around you. You felt your heart drop as you realized that the night before really did happen, it wasn’t some hormone ridden dream.

You’d always been attracted to Leonard, even if he was a bit neurotic (something you still adored about him). However, you wanted to respect Leonard as a friend, coworker, and best friend of Jim’s. You couldn’t imagine how Jim would feel if you and Leonard started dating. There was also always the dreaded what ifs. What if you two broke up? How would your friends and Jim deal with that? You were also in a high stakes job. What if you seriously got injured, or worse? What if he never even felt the same way?

Also, being completely overrun by foreign hormones was not how you want you two to get together anyway.

So, as you Kirks do, you decided to get out before more awkwardness could come or having to face the difficult consequences of your actions. Luckily, Leonard seemed to be a heavy sleeper but you could feel a fever beginning to creep on you again as his arm tried to tighten on you. You felt your heart ache as even the non-Omega part of you wanted to stay. But if you did, what happened wouldn’t be just between the two of you. Someone would walk in and know what had happened. You didn’t even bother putting on your underwear or shoes, just your red dress before unlocking the doors with his PADD and sneaking back to your quarters to lock yourself in. You were breathing harshly, the fever hitting you pretty hard, and you slid down your door to the ground.

“Computer, air conditioning at full capacity.” The fans whirred around you as you tried not to think of Leonard.

XXXXXX

Leonard woke up with a groan and stretched against his cot. He felt around his bed for you, but shot up when he didn’t find you. He looked around the room and saw that your underwear and boots were still in his room. He kind of wanted to laugh, thinking about how you probably bolted out of there. He thought you were probably embarrassed about the whole thing. A nagging part of his brain said it was probably because you regretted it entirely. He had always liked you, but for the sake of Jim he kept it more friendly and professional. Perhaps it was best to just forget about it. Better that than a repeat of another failed relationship.

“Dr. McCoy? This is Nurse Chapel from the K-7 research lab. We’re here to give you the hypospray.” He hurriedly put on his clothes and kicked your things under the cot before letting the nurse in.

XXXXXX

A couple of days later, you hurried to the bridge to return some reports of the events to Jim. You had avoided medbay like the plague and unbeknownst to you, a couple of friends took notice. As you handed the PADD to Jim, he looked at your healing jaw and cringed once again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, asshole, you say it every time you see me.” You chided playfully. He looked at the rest of the scars left on your body from the others and raised an eyebrow at you.

“You can probably get those taken care of, y’know?”

“I know, I just haven’t found the time with writing this shit up.” You replied and he chuckled, waving you away. You smoothed out your skirt and went to the elevator, but Sulu slid in before the doors closed.

“Oh hey! What’s up?”

“What’s up with you? You always get your scars fixed up and Uhura knows for a fact that you’ve had enough time.”

“Are you two gossiping behind my back?” You replied and he crossed his arms at his chest. “Maybe I want to keep the scars.”

“You want to keep scars in the shape of bite marks?” He replied flatly and you shrugged. The doors opened again and He grabbed your arm. “That’s it, I’m taking you to medbay.”

“No!” You panicked and pulled away from him.

“What in the world’s going on?” He asked incredulously, and you looked around. “Did something happen the day we went to Ni-bu?” You opened your mouth but quickly shut it.

“I’ll tell you what happened, just not here.”

“C’mon!” He pulled you into a nearby closet and locked the door behind him. You paced what little you could in the space and he sighed. “Would you just tell me?”

“I thought I was okay. I didn’t have any of the symptoms so I thought I was a Beta. After everything settled down I went to medbay like you told me to get my cuts cleaned up.” Sulu quickly put two and two together, especially after days of suspicion.

“You weren’t a Beta and neither was he.” You shook your head. “And, lemme guess, you left in the morning?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You nearly whispered. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. Kirk, you gotta fix this. You have to talk to him. You can’t avoid medbay forever.”

“I can try.”

“Kirk.”

“I know you’re right! I just don’t know what to do.” He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him.

“Just go in there.”

XXXXXX

Leonard was reading from his PADD in his quarters when he heard a knock on the door. He put it down on his bedside table before letting it open and saw you. His black eye was healing nicely, but he winced when he widened them in surprise.

“Uh, hey.” You started, already wanting to punch yourself.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this was awkward.

“Can I come in?” He stood to the side and you stepped in, the door closing behind you.

“If you’re here for your clothes and boots there under my cot in my office.”

Ouch.

“Thanks but that’s not why I’m here.” You stood there, trying to keep from fidgeting. “I wanted to talk about what happened, and before you say anything I know I shoulda stayed. I wanted to stay but-“ You broke off and sat down in his arm chair. You felt like if you kept standing then you’d pass out.

“But what? I’ve been wonderin’ why you didn’t stay, myself.” He said and you nodded.

“And I shouldn’t have done that to you.” You looked down at your clasped hands and tried to swallow the nervousness radiating in your body. “Leonard, I’ve always liked you. I’ve always been attracted to you.” You didn’t see the surprised look that crossed his face. “But I was always afraid of what would happen. I mean, you know me and Jim: we’re both terrified of relationships and I know that you’re wary of them after how things went in your marriage. I’ve always wanted to respect that.” You didn’t realize you had started to ramble. “And Jim is another thing! That ass is always so protective over me and you’re his best friend! That’s a conundrum just for him! Does he kick your ass or lock me in my cabin or both?! Not to mention we’re in space and it’s probably one of the most dangerous places ever!” You finally looked at him and saw him chuckling, hiding his face behind his hand. “Why the hell are you laughing? I’m pouring my heart out here!”

“Because you sound like me, dammit!” He smiled and you stared at him incredulously. “Go on, finish up. I gotta talk some time.” You shook your head at him and stood up.

“Fine, you want me to finish? I didn’t want to wake up and hear you talk about how it was a mistake because just thinking about that fucking kills me. I wanted it to happen, maybe not like that but I wanted…something like that to happen. There, I’m done.” You stood there and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Well you said you had to talk.” You looked back up at him expectantly and his eyes had softened, he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I didn’t know you felt that way and...as much as I didn’t think that this is the way things would happen, I don’t regret that it did. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long but everything’s complicated. But I wanna give it a shot because I can’t imagine not being with you.” Tears welled in your eyes at his confession and you threw yourself at him, taking in his warmth.

“I want to be with you, Len.” 

“As long as you promise you won’t run away again, darlin’.” You smiled up at him and kissed him softly.

“I promise…Alpha.” He stiffened against you and you laughed. He smiled and captured your lips in his, holding you tightly against him. “You think you could get rid of my scars first?” You squealed as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him.

You two would just have to deal with everything else later.

[writer-ish]

in the lambent light

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 2.4K words | rating: T (language)

summary: On the rooftop of the Warehouse, Grace and Mason have an honest conversation about sexuality, small towns, and love (sort of), with the revelry and light of Unit Bravo’s first Wayhaven Pride in the background.

For Week 1, Day 1 of @wayhavensummer: First Pride + #wsfchallenge “belonging”.

*

She finds him on the roof of the warehouse, of course, kicking his feet idly as they dangle over the edge, a thin wisp of smoke coming up steadily from his cigarette.

When he sees her, he puts it out and links his fingers together, eyes following her as she comes to sit beside him.

They're high up – too high; if she looks down she feels a bit dizzy – and he grunts, his eyes narrowing as she dangles her legs, too. She looks at her colourful socks - one purple, one pink - as she tries not to think about how steep the drop would be if she lost her balance or even just shuffled forward a bit.

She wonders if maybe he'll put his hand out to hold her steady, or force her to sit back.

(He does neither.)

"You don't have to do that, you know." She gestures belatedly to the ash of his crumpled cigarette still smoking lightly on the concrete. "I know I gave you a hard time before, but really, I don't want you to stop on account of me."

He shrugs. "It's fine. I don't even know why I still do it when I don’t even really need it anymore. Habit, I guess."

She opens her mouth to insist, say how she doesn't want him, doesn't need him to change for her – but her mouth clicks shut instead. It's easier to let it slide. To not delve too deeply into why he doesn't need it anymore.

They sit in silence for a bit, the evening breeze settling on them.

The sounds of revelry in the town square continue. Grace can hear the celebrations, the music, can feel the general aura of happiness radiating from below.

When she’d left to seek out Mason, Tina had been painting a rainbow on Adam’s sharp cheekbone as he sat very still, giving the situation a gravitas that it perhaps didn’t deserve, but was still heartwarming to see nonetheless.

Eric and Verda had been watching indulgently as their girls got spoiled with treats provided by Nate, who had been doing his very best to succeed at the task of “enjoying his first Pride”.

(When he’d asked if he was “doing it right”, Grace couldn’t help but give him an impromptu hug.

“You’re doing perfectly,” she’d said warmly and he had smiled down at her, eyes sparkling.)

Felix, for his part, had been bouncing around, examining the stalls set up to highlight the queer-owned business in Wayhaven, coming back to hand Nate a new trinket or snack or pin he’d purchased, and then bounding off again, the excitement practically vibrating off of him.

She smiles wistfully at the memory of how the town embraced Unit Bravo as their own, as she regards it all from a distance now, a bloom of warmth in her chest – a collection of the happiness and pride that she feels towards her little town for coming together in this way year after year. To celebrate its people; the people who make Wayhaven what it is.

To celebrate love.

She turns to Mason, spontaneously dropping a hand to his knee. He looks down swiftly and then back up at her, silver-grey eyes meeting her own.

"Was it all too much for you?" She nods in the direction of light, laughter, colour, and music. "Down there?"

He shrugs. "I respect the idea behind the celebration and I'm glad the others are happy and having fun. But yeah. It's not really my thing."

She nods slowly, going quiet again. He idly begins to play with her fingers, splayed out on his thigh. Tracing them with his own, up and down.

"You know it's not—"

"You know that we—"

They both go to speak at the same time, their voices stuttering to a stop as they realize.

"You go," Mason says eventually, the side of his lips quirked up in a small smirk. "You do most of the talking for us anyway."

"Hey!" Grace squeaks out indignantly. "I do not. Most people say I don't talk enough."

Mason snorts. "People who don't know you, maybe."

Her cheeks grow warm with pleasure at the unspoken confirmation. It feels like what he really said was: "People who don't know you the way I do."

And he's right.

"I was just going to say, Wayhaven has been doing this for years now. Decades even. We used to come when I was a kid.” She laughs in reminiscence. “There’s this picture of me – maybe eighteen months old or something – on Rook’s shoulders, watching the parade as my mom smiles up at us both.”

She feels her own smile go soft, like the edges of that faded cherished photograph. She shakes her head to clear the cobwebs of nostalgia before turning to him again. He’s regarding her in a way that can only be construed as fondness and her heart twists, ever so slightly.

“I’m glad you guys got to be here for your first Pride,” she continues, steering the conversation back to the present. To safer territory. “You hear all these things about the intolerance of small towns, and lord knows it’s true in some cases, but I dunno." She shrugs, a small smile gracing her lips once more. "It feels nice to be part of one of the good ones."

He's quiet and she turns to look at him after a moment of prolonged silence. He's still staring at her, this time a more inscrutable expression on his face. She can't tell what's going through his mind, whether it's concern or agreement or even anger. His fingers have stilled overtop hers and his large palm rests on her hand, warm and steady.

It takes another beat before he clears his throat and breaks eye contact, moving his hand off of hers. The cool air rushes to the spot where his hand used to be and she finds herself missing its warmth and comfort.

"It's true," he says finally. "It is one of the good ones." He looks at her carefully. "And you’re right. They aren't all like that."

There’s a wealth of meaning in his simple statement and it’s her turn to stare at him now, processing his words and trying to formulate an appropriate response.

"Have you…" She hesitates, trying to parse her words carefully. "Have you experienced… bad ones?"

He lets out a sigh. The very human sound, probably borne from a habit he could never quite kick, sends a tender pang straight to her heart.

"Listen, sweetheart." He leans back and looks up at the quickly dimming sky, the summer heat dwindling to a more tolerable mildness, the breeze picking up slightly and bringing with it the sweet scent of the magnolias below them. "It's no secret that I am not what people would call…"

He smirks and shoots her a side-long glance, his mischievous look belied by the glint of a single fang. "Discerning."

She stays quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve never seen value in—” He pauses, appearing to search for the right word. “—In curbing my desires to fit into a certain mold. I like what I like, I like who I like, and no real external factors – like gender or appearance or the shape of your tits or your bits – have ever really come into play.” He shrugs and pulls a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, fiddling with it without lighting it. “Some people have a problem with that and some places like to make it known more than others.”

Something about his final sentence causes her pulse to quicken, her thoughts jangling in her head. She tries to gather them up before she speaks.

“Do you think…” She hesitates. “Do you somehow think that I… have a problem with that? That I don’t understand?”

“Do you understand?” He looks straight at her then, his eyes sharp and intense. Not intimidating or cruel, but as though he’s looking for something – perhaps the honest answer to a question he’s not sure he’s even asked properly.

“I mean—” She feels indignant slightly, even though she tries to tamp it down. “If you think I somehow have an opinion on who people love and the circumstances around that, then I feel like maybe you don’t know me that well.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He holds his hands up, unlit cigarette still between two fingers, lip curling slightly. “Who said anything about love? I’m talking about who I decide to fuck.”

That one stings. She purses her lips and looks away, trying not to let him see just how much, inhaling deeply as she tries to get her feelings under control.

“Yes, yes,” she says finally, looking away with a wave of her hand. “Fuck, love, whatever.” She turns to him again, eyes narrowed. “I might not understand in the way that you do, through lived experience, but I care enough to try. And I certainly don’t judge.”

“I never said you judged, Gracie.” His voice is soft and the way he says her nickname – so rare from his lips – makes her breath catch in her throat. He flicks the cigarette between his fingers now, back and forth. “I just want everything to be out there between you and me. So that there’s never any—” He hesitates. “—Surprises.”

“Oh, you mean like finding out you’re a centuries-old vampire?” she quips, raising an eyebrow at him, arms crossed.

He barks out a laugh. “Watch who you’re calling centuries old, sweetheart.”

She chuckles along with him, before getting serious once more.

“The least surprising thing about you, Mason, is the fact that you have no qualms about who you choose to be with. I’ve never met a more accepting and open person.” He looks like he’s about to argue with her, so she holds up a hand to stop him. “And just because we aren’t—exactly the same, in that regard—” She looks down, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “—Doesn’t mean I don’t get it. Or respect it.” She shrugs, laughing self-deprecatingly. “I find it hard to believe you’re interested in my boring ass, to be honest.”

“Your ass is the least boring thing about you, Detective.” For that comment, he’s rewarded with a light whack on the leg. He laughs and wraps his arm around her. “C’mere.”

Putting the cigarette behind his ear, he tugs her closer. He holds her tightly against him, thighs touching and feet brushing against each other.

“I’m going to say something cheesy as fuck and you’re going to listen. And then you’re never going to repeat it again. Got it?”

She nods quickly, eyes widening in anticipation.

“I see people—not for what they look like or any of that shit, but for what’s in here.” He taps gently, right above her left breast. “Yeah, I don’t get mixed up in all that love stuff, and attraction does play a big role in who I seek out and why, but it’s not an attraction to physical things. I just get this—sense of who a person is, I guess. And if I like what I sense, I follow through. If I don’t, I move on.” He gives her a squeeze. “You understand?”

She bites her lip, breath growing shallow as the impact of his words infiltrates her blood stream and causes her heart to flutter painfully.

He smiles slowly, a cheshire grin, and she curses his ability to hear the increase in her pulse.

“And guess what, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave now, mouth close to her ear.

“What?” It comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“I like what you’ve got in here.” Another tap, same spot. “And I’m not ready to move on.”

As far as grand romantic statements go, Grace knows this one won’t make anyone’s top ten list. But for Mason, it’s a lot. And for her, for right now—it’s everything.

She leans forward and kisses him softly, sweetly, on the lips. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, but neither makes a move to deepen the kiss in any way, keeping it gentle and close-mouthed; an affirmation rather than the initiation of anything more. Pulling away, she looks at him, feeling the softness she sees in his face reflected in her own.

Giving him one more brief kiss, she scooches back and stands up carefully, dusting off the bottom of her blue shorts.

She catches him watching the action intently and he catches her catching him. They share a smirk that turns into a laugh and it feels comfortable and fun. It feels like an inside joke.

Like belonging.

“Let’s go, hot shot.” She holds out her hand to him and he takes it, swinging his legs around and standing up, his full height enough that she needs to tilt her head to look up at him.

“Think you can manage to rejoin the party?” she asks, her hand still in his as she tugs him to the door that will lead them back through the warehouse. “We’ll stick to the quieter corners. I’ll hold your hand the whole time,” she adds, smiling up at him, her tone cajoling, teasing.

There’s something about summer in Wayhaven, something about Pride in Wayhaven – the air feels lighter, sweeter. Grace feels lighter. Bolstered by love and friendship, warmth and comfort. All the good things about her little town seem to be highlighted during this time.

All the good things about her little life, she thinks, glancing at their joined hands.

Mason snorts and looks down at her, amused, before giving her hand a squeeze.

She squeezes back, feeling happier than she can remember ever feeling before.

“I’ll even buy you a snow cone without the syrup,” she offers as they leave, bumping his shoulder with hers.

He grunts and then stops short. “Isn’t that just ice?”

She bites back a smile, feeling laughter in her throat, and nods.

There’s a pause. He blinks once. Twice. Then—he bursts into loud laughter. The sound is so free, so surprising yet pleasant, that she can’t help the grin that spreads across her face. And when he pulls her even closer and presses a kiss to the top of her head—well. She’s not sure that smile will ever go away now.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” he murmurs, keeping her close to him.

And she does.

[pleom]

Hi :) May I request a fluff with kevin where you both like each other and the members rat him out pls? Thx

wc: 2.1k | CW: one (1) mention of weed

Saturday called your name. You had to wait painfully as the day dragged its feet through presentations and lectures. By the time the school day ended, you held no more excitement for the weekend as you sat in one of the university’s lounges waiting for your friend to drive you home.

All tuckered out from discussing and convincing your classmates of topics neither of you particularly cared about, you almost ignored Kevin when he approached you, phone two-inches from your face, headphones blaring in your ears at maximum volume, but then you remembered that he’s Kevin Moon, and when he’s got something to say, you listen. 

“Sorry to interrupt you there,” he started, and from his backpack he pulled out a small container of—, “Brownies. I had baked them this morning and wanted to give some to you as thanks.”

“Oh,” was all you squeaked out, though it wasn’t a sound of disappointment or even mild surprise. You had heard about Kevin’s godly baking skills, from the full mouths of those he generously gave them to. Usually his classmates, sometimes the professors, and it was enough to instill that hope that maybe you'll be one of  the receivers one day. Today, it seemed like an arbitrary gift. “Thanks for what?”

“For helping me with my group project.”

“Oh...Oh, yeah!” You gently took the container from Kevin’s hands. Soft confusion still lingering in your mind. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, I barely helped.”

“We got an A because of you!”

“Are you sure it was me? Because last I remembered, you guys did all the brute work, I just filled in the minor details.”

“Aren’t minor details the toughest part?”

You shrugged. You took a single brownie out of the container and put the rest in your bag. Kevin watched as you bit into it, humming a gleeful tune at the way you melted. It tasted even better than you expected. “This is too good to eat for free. How much do you want? Twenty dollars? Fifty?”

Kevin bit down a smile and waved his hand, sheepish. You noticed a brown mark on the back of his hand that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. You figured he must’ve burned himself. 

“You’re just gassing my head.” 

“No, I’m serious.” Kevin looked pleased to see you finish his brownie. “Did the others get some?”

The others being Sunwoo, Jacob, and Juyeon, the three who were assigned to the same project. You were actually called to help by Sunwoo, who pleaded and whined and bargained after your many attempts to say no, you had too much on your plate. Then, as a last resort, he began naming his teammates; guilted you with Jacob, tried to lure you in with Juyeon, and finally—the nail in the coffin—mentioned Kevin. You could imagine the cocky face Sunwoo must’ve had when he realized he had reeled you in. 

You gave up on trying to deny his accusations. You wouldn’t say you had a full-blown crush on Kevin Moon, but you were definitely fond of him in a way that could be described as infatuation. 

Now that the project’s done, you would see to Sunwoo’s promised reparations for the emotional damages he dealt. You were pretty sure he owed you five free milk tea bobas. 

“The others?” Kevin’s face contorted in confusion for a split moment, like he had already forgotten who had worked diligently on the project with him. He didn’t sound completely sure of himself when he answered, “yes, they did. I baked an extra large batch for everyone involved. Even gave some to the professor.”

“Is that why you have that burn mark?”

Kevin looked down at his hand before covering it with the other. “Oh, that. Yeah, this is what happens when you have an oven only as big enough as you can afford.”

“When I say I feel that…” You became increasingly aware of the dwindling topics to speak about, so before an awkward silence has time to settle in, you stand up from your seat and raise a hand for Kevin to shake. “My friend is probably waiting outside for me right now. Thank you again for the treat, really appreciate it! I’ll make sure to share some with her to spread the love around. Seriously, you should patent that recipe.”

“Learned from the best,” Kevin chuckled. “Thank you for helping. See ya later.”

“See ya!” And you were outside less than a minute later. 

Maybe you were the one that owed Sunwoo free drinks.

-

Saturday called and you answered, a bit more jubilant this time. Now that you had finished most of your homework and spent an hour cursing yourself to sleep over missed interactions with Kevin, you felt revitalized. 

You took the bus to Sunwoo’s dorm and let yourself in. On weekends, Sunwoo’s dorm room was rarely locked, considering that it took the name as the unofficial common room of the apartment building. Today, it was less crowded than usual, which to you was a relief. That meant there were less people you had to fight for access to Sunwoo’s computer. At times, you felt silly for acting so starved, but when you’re a broke college student with only one shitty laptop to your name, you had to take your graces as they came. 

Juyeon and Eric lied by the foot of the couch, competing with each other over some game displayed on Sunwoo’s TV. Sangyeon snacked by himself in the kitchen, and you spotted Changmin, Sunwoo’s roommate, quietly moving from room to room down by the hall. 

You decided to head into the kitchen first, whether to steal change off counters or food from the fridge. 

The fridge was destination number one, and frankly, it was empty. It was normally the usual sight, but you still had the faint taste of chocolate fudge on your lips that led you to ask, “you guys finished the brownies already?”

“What brownies?” 

“The ones Kevin made yesterday.”

“Ah, man, Kevin made brownies?!” Eric shouted from his seat. He screamed a second later, which was followed by Juyeon’s laughter, then rose to his feet to mirror you at the fridge door. “I told him to wait till Haknyeon gave me my $20 back! Can’t believe he made edibles and handed them out without me.”

“They weren’t edibles. Kevin made regular brownies for me, Juyeon, Jacob, and Sunwoo. Said it was because we worked on a project together due last Monday,” you said. You found a seat by Sangyeon on the kitchen island. Juyeon, who had set down his controller to stroll in after Eric, looked puzzled.

“Huh? Kevin didn’t give me any brownies.”

“Kevin made brownies? Where the hell is he?” Sunwoo barged loudly into the room thereafter, with mussed hair and grease-stained shirt and looking wholly comfortable up till he heard the commotion in the kitchen. He swept the room and the living room for signs of the boy, and brushed aside ingredients in the fridge for a confectionary he apparently did not receive. He came back empty-handed and confused; you were no different.

“Uh, didn’t you get them yesterday?” You asked. You were met with Sunwoo’s blank stare. “He said he baked them for all of you. I have a few left back at my house.”

“Yeah, as far as we know, there are none,” Juyeon peeped, though he didn’t look half as bothered as Sunwoo did.

“Are we sure you’re not playing us right now?” Sunwoo narrowed his eyes at you. He looked just about ready to kick you out. Changmin walked in, eyes wide but mischievous. It’s obvious that he’d been listening this whole time, and something in his gaze said that he knew much more than both of you, and that he was withholding it for the sake of drama. 

“Why would I lie?!”

“I dunno, to brag? To make us look like second-rate friends? You’re not even in any of Kevin’s classes!”

“Maybe he pulled a raffle…” Changmin said not-so-absentmindedly.

Sunwoo’s face was contorted with semi-offense. He patted his pockets before turning to dash down the hall to his bedroom, just in time for the front door to open and reveal the star in question. Kevin entered the room with exasperation etched clearly on his face. He didn’t seem to register you, his eyes glazing over people’s faces in search of one in particular.

Changmin, this time wide-eyed with panic, darted to hide behind the island.

“Hey, is Changmin here?”

“No!” Changmin yelled, slightly muffled. “But Changmin did relay a message. He said that he’s really, really sorry for any unfortunate events his actions may have caused. But he requests an extension on—”

“I’m too tired for this, Changmin. Just give me my—”

“Kevin, that burn mark still hasn’t healed?” You found yourself speaking without ever really considering what to say. You spoke on pure reflex, when Kevin came and leaned over the island kitchen with his hands curled around the edge, and the mark had turned less brown than inflamed red; the sight made you wince. 

“Is that…!?” Eric’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on the same sight. He dramatically fell against one of the kitchen stools. “Oh man, he really did bake brownies without telling us.”

Sunwoo came back just in time to witness the climax of Kevin’s-secret-brownie-adventure story. Kevin looked like a deer in headlights. Changmin took the moment to crawl out from beneath the island to escape into his room. Sunwoo looked genuinely betrayed by Kevin’s arrival.

“Yeah, sorry bro, but that constitutes a two week ban from our place unless you pay us back in both brownies and cookies with interest.”

“I don’t even care about the brownies itself anymore,” Eric said, still curled up over a stool. “How come they got to have some but not us?”

Something about Eric’s question set something off in Sunwoo. Suddenly, his dramatics cooled down, and he looked at Kevin slyly. 

“No idea,” you said. At this point, as confusing as the whole thing was, you quickly grew tired of it. It became too much trouble for what seemed like a simple act of gratitude by Kevin, which was never out of character for him. And to top it off, now Kevin seemed to actively avoid looking at you, and the following disappointment was hard for you to swallow.

“I have some idea,” Sunwoo said, but he made no attempt to follow up on that statement. He sat down on one of the kitchen stools, pleased with himself.

“I do, too.” Juyeon said and sounded like he had an epiphany.  “I think Kevin must really like (Y/N) to be able to do that!”

Silence. All eyes in the room shifted from you to Kevin. Too scared to look directly at the boy himself, you peeked at him from the corner of your eye and saw the look of pure devastation on his face. Juyeon seemed oblivious to it all. Sunwoo, luckily, was there to reel it in. 

“Hey, Juyeon, can I borrow you for a second?”

“Gah!” Unfortunately, the damage had been dealt. Kevin hightailed it out over Sunwoo’s apartment with you hot on his tracks.

“Kevin wait!”

You found him sitting out on the apartment steps, face buried in his hands. He didn’t respond when you called out his name, nor when you sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. The sight broke your heart, so you thought of ways you could help soothe his panic.

Reaching down you pulled Kevin’s hand into yours, the one with the bright red burn, and massaged it with the pads of your fingers.

“To be fair, I don’t think Juyeon’s assessment really holds any weight, so please, don’t worry about it,” you said. Kevin took a while to respond, but eventually he lifted his head. He didn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke.

“It does though,” he sighed. “I was going to wait for the right time to confess.”

His words made you halt.

“Confess?” You shot up straight, dropping his hand into your lap. “Kev,  do you actually mean that?”

You watched as his ears and cheeks began to redden. He chanced a shy glance your way, and you could feel his fingers flex in your lap.

“Uh...depending on your reaction, hopefully…?”

Returning your hand on his, you pulled it closer to you. You traced around his injury, keeping an eye on his reaction in case he pulled back or winced with pain. Then, bravely, you interlocked both of your fingers and inhaled with relief when he tightened his grip. 

You did it all without ever breaking eye contact, and with a small smile, you asked, “do you want to give it a try at least?”

Kevin’s stress seemed to have dissolved from him completely then. He mirrored your smile.

In the back of your mind, you hoped Sunwoo wasn’t scolding Juyeon too hard.

----

me mentioning sangyeon in the kitchen once before dropping him entirely from the fic 🤡🤡 anyways anon thank u for requesting!! this was kinda cringe but also kinda fun to write so lol

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon Chapter 14: Wild Type

<Previous / Next>

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: He's survived this long. But there's not much to scavenge in the depths of Snowdin's forest. He can only hope something turns up... and boy, will it.

He stretched, pulling the magic back out to his extremities after a night curled up, working his claws into the soft earth and yawning widely. He shook any remaining stiffness out with a clatter, and ignored a painful twinge in his leg. He rubbed at it with his snout, soothing the ache, but he had a task at hand. An old injury couldn't interfere. He dug into the dry leaves that served as their bedding and heaped a little bit more over his brother, then stepped out from the den.

He sniffed the air--clean snow, sharp pine, musty leaves and earth from the hollow behind--nothing new. Nothing dangerous. It was safe to forage. He stretched again, rolled around in the snow for a bit, then set out.

He wove through evergreen brush and fallen branches along a well-worn path. Navigating down a rockfall with careful leaps, he landed on the stony banks of the river, loose cobbles clacking underfoot. Putting his nose to work, he sniffed along the river's edge, hopeful. It was rare, but he'd once found discarded food along here... maybe there'd be more today.

Oh! What was that? Not food, but there was something interesting caught on a branch in the water. He waded in and pulled at it with his jaws until it came free--a piece of something soft. This would be nice to lay on. He got it back on land and shook it out, then blinked... the thing was wet, and wet things froze, and this thing would be useless frozen. He needed to do something to stop that... he needed heat. Oh! He had heat! He laid the piece out flat and went over it with his beam, the power set low to dry it with a careful precision. When it wasn't damp anymore, he picked it up, head held high as he avoiding snags and rough terrain. He'd solved the puzzle--he was clever, he was good.

He reached the den and hooted as he entered, his latest prize in his jaws. He scraped out the most deteriorated of the leaf litter, then fussed with the soft thing to get it just right. It would be a nice surprise for his brother when he woke up. Content with his final arrangement, he chirped his satisfaction before heading back out. He still had to find food. Loping between the trees, he struck off towards the river again.

But his resources were dwindling, and he hadn't been able to find food for a while now. No berries anymore, and the mushrooms from the warm part of the river were gone too. He couldn't take from the farms--he'd done that once and it made him feel so bad the memory still made him cringe. It was all the food he could possibly need, but he couldn't take what wasn't his. His best hope was something discarded... or...

A shout.

He froze and perked up, head swiveling in the direction the sound had come from. He waited--the sound came again, from a slightly different spot. The voice's owner was moving, quickly. He sniffed the air--nothing yet. Only sound. He tilted his head from side to side, then slowly wove it back and forth, trying to hone in.

There were hardly ever noises out here--much less a voice. It sounded like the scary lady from yesterday... She'd had food. He'd smelled it, had tried to get it... maybe she'd have it again today. He'd get it for sure this time. It was worth the risk.

The shouting came again, and he crouched to slink through the sparse undergrowth towards it. His bones blended in with the white snow, and he'd gotten very good at making only the softest sounds. This would be easy. Keeping a steady pace, it wasn't long before he was much closer to his target. There was still no scent to follow, but he caught a glimpse of movement between the trees, enough to see it was the lady from before. He changed his trajectory a little so he'd sneak up behind her.

There was a familiar feeling...

He caught the scent of food, and refocused. His brother was counting on him... This time, he'd use magic. Just until she was too tired to fight... There she was, walking quickly, looking everywhere. He crouched lower. He'd have to be very careful... He crept along as fast as he dared, until--now!

A line of bones jabbed from the ground before her, and she skipped back--another row rose behind her, and she whirled to see him leaping from the brush. She looked... happy...?

"Papyrus!"

He squinted. That was--how did she know his name? She'd said other things, but his name had stuck out... Why would she know it? He shut his eyes and uttered a short growl--he had to focus! He sent a row of bones at her, but she leapt over them easily... Oh right! He had to do the other thing! Next turn. He paid full attention to what she was doing--he had to be ready.

"Look, usually I'm all for a workout, but I dunno if you are. You look... kinda beat, man. So, JUST this once, I'm gonna go easy on you."

So many words--

The sharp ping of soul magic surprised him. He couldn't move, and the first spear took him off-guard. But he blocked the next, and a third, easily, tail lashing as he navigated this challenge. It felt familiar too...

But it was his turn now. He cast his special magic and turned the scary lady blue, then sent a number of bones at her. But she dodged those too, like she'd seen this before... His turn wasn't over yet--he braced himself and let a beam of magic loose from his jaws, catching her by surprise. Ha! That did the trick. He could win.

She picked herself up, rubbing her leg where his attack had connected. "C'mon Papyrus, it's me--your friend Undyne. You remember us hanging out, right? We used to do it all the time!"

She gave him a big grin, and he couldn't shake the feeling... No, he didn't want the memories to wake up. He knew they were painful, and pain was bad, so he shouldn't think about them. He shut his eyes and attacked again. He needed to win.

She grunted as a bone connected, then returned with her own attack. "We used to spar all the time too--you think I can't handle anything you dish out?!"

He was green again--and ready for the incoming spears. But then he wasn't, his mind foggy with tired, and Undyne threw another he wasn't prepared for--it hit his bad leg. He yelped--okay, nope, time to leave, get away!

"Wait!"

He was still green, and no amount of writhing let him budge. He spun to face his opponent and growled, jaws clattering. He didn't want to fight anymore, but if he had to--!

The lady wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He was too surprised to do anything, even as the lady lifted him up. This really was familiar...!

"NGGGAAAAAAHHHHH! FRIENDSHIP SUPLEX!"

Stunned, he laid helplessly as she rolled from under him and put him in a headlock.

"IF YOU DON'T REMEMBER, I'LL NOOGIE THOSE MEMORIES RIGHT BACK INTO THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS! I'LL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO GET YOU BACK ALL THE WAY, PAPYRUS!"

He... he could almost...! This was so familiar--

Suddenly--!

He remembered bad cooking lessons and fire and laughter. He remembered snow wrestling. He remembered sparring sessions that left them both winded but exuberant. He remembered her.

He remembered all the trouble she'd went through to help him ever since this whole mess had started, and that their last conversation had been an argument. All the same... he'd missed her. He whined, and shoved his head into her side in apology, nearly bowling her over.

"Hey, shh, it's okay. I'm--I'm glad that wor--I'm glad you're back," Undyne said. Her voice sounded thick. "Here, we both landed some good hits. I didn't know if you've been getting much to eat, so I brought sandwiches."

At the mention of food Papyrus scrambled to his feet--but his body seemed to remember just how tired he really was, and he stumbled right back down with a whimper. Undyne eyed him with concern.

"Dude, I didn't hit you that much, are you--" She paused to cast a quick check, and frowned. "Gotcha. You've been out here a while after all... even longer than that first time you ran away. You must've been finding something to last this long, but... Here. It's nothing fancy, but I don't think that matters."

She dug into her backpack and pulled out a sandwich, and Papyrus almost lost himself again as he was overcome with hunger. He nearly snatched the sandwich out of Undyne's hand before she could unwrap it, and it was gone in a snap once she'd handed it over. He'd never been particularly food-motivated, but that was before he'd been deprived of it for so long.

"Whoa dude, take it easy. Try to enjoy this one, okay?" Undyne teased as she offered another. "I have a couple more, but they're for Sans... Um... he's still... around, right?"

Papyrus blinked, and nodded quickly before going back to tearing off chunks of the second sandwich and wolfing them down. He almost felt bad he wasn't saving it for Sans, but Undyne said she had more--his brother would get his share eventually. He needed to take care of himself if he was going to take care of anyone else--and the sandwich tasted really, really good compared to the various mushrooms and refuse he'd been scavenging from.

"Y'know I asked you to bring him... 'Course, maybe you couldn't. Eh, I bet he's just as lazy as he always is, huh?"

Papyrus looked aside and gave a short huff. That was... one way to put it. Undyne's smile faded as she studied his expression.

"Well, no matter what, we'll get him taken care of too. I've got a lot to tell you guys. Feeling better?"

Papyrus finished off his meal and nodded, offering a happy cluck. He wasn't sure he could get his voice working again--at least, not yet. But Undyne didn't seem to mind, and patted his shoulder heartily.

"Alright! If you're ready... let's go see him, huh?"

Papyrus wearily got to his feet and shook himself out. Sans probably wouldn't be happy about this... but then... he hadn't been happy for a long time. The initial joy of seeing each other again hadn't lasted after their new reality set in.

Papyrus turned towards their home of the last... however long it'd been, and trilled at Undyne. She nodded and slung her pack over her shoulders, ready to go. Without further ado, Papyrus lead the way at an easy lope while Undyne jogged behind him. Aside from their footfalls, it was utterly silent.

Ah, there was the tree he'd marked with his claws--he bugled a call to announce his arrival, and added a couple of hoots to relay there was something new. He doubted it would work, but... oh, that's what he could say--he uttered a trill to indicate food. That would at least wake his brother up.

Before they got much closer, he slowed down and turned to face Undyne. She slowed accordingly, looking puzzled, and he clumsily raised a paw and clapped it on her shoulder while giving her a stern look. He could only hope his meaning got across...

"You want me to stay here?"

He nodded, bouncing in place before turning to approach the den they'd made. He poked his head into the dark--Sans hadn't moved since he'd left, but at his entrance he blinked an eye open to look at him. Papyrus trilled again, nuzzling him before shoving his snout against his brother's sternum to push him up. Sans offered a low grumble and no effort to support himself; Papyrus growled back and pushed harder. When it was clear Sans simply refused to move, Papyrus picked him up by the nape and dragged him out.

Sans' initial reaction to Undyne was to hiss and try to back away, but Papyrus caught him by the back spines before he could shuffle further. He cooed at him, and gave another food-trill; on her part, Undyne sat and did her best to look friendly. Sans uttered a few more wary growls--but Papyrus wasn't surprised when his brother's eyelids lowered, and he sank back to the ground. Sans' reactions to anything these days was... short-lived, to say the least.

"Hey Sans," Undyne greeted. "I'm glad to see you're alive too, y'know?"

Sans just watched her from lidded eyes.

"You've gotta be hungry, so--I know it's not Grillby's, but I brought sandwiches."

Papyrus nudged his brother again, then trotted over to Undyne and picked up the offered food; as much as he still wanted it for himself, Sans really needed it. He placed the sandwich by his brother's jaws, and Sans gave it a tentative sniff. He rolled his head over and took a bite.... And that was it. Papyrus prodded him with a whine, but Sans only gave a raspy sigh and turned away.

Where Papyrus had become more motivated to find food and eat it... it seemed the opposite had happened to his brother. He wasn't interested in it... He wasn't interested in much of anything. Too much had happened.

Papyrus looked up at Undyne sadly, flicking his tail. He didn't know what to do to make his brother feel better anymore. Undyne studied them both and frowned.

"How long's he been like this?"

Papyrus thought for a moment how he could convey... He had no idea how much time had passed while they'd been out here, but... oh! He carefully drew a line in the snow, then a tick mark near one end and pawed at it.

"Uh... Oh... Since pretty much the start, huh?"

He nodded.

"Geez..."

Sans huffed a sigh behind them.

"Well, listen... You guys don't have to live out here. I know the last time you were around other monsters, they were afraid of you..." Undyne began. "But, there's a reason for that, and it has NOTHING to do with anything you guys did or what you look like. You need to know that."

Papyrus tilted his head. That couldn't be right--they were too dangerous, too scary to be around monsters. As soon as they'd been seen, they'd been attacked. He whined, looking away. They had to stay out here--it was better this way.

Undyne frowned. "After you guys ran away, we learned the truth. This flower--it looks just like a golden flower, the same kind the king grows--but, it can talk. And... it lied to everyone. It told the townsfolk you guys were dangerous, and that they should attack if they saw you."

Papyrus tilted his head again. Hadn't they talked to that golden flower...? About...

A snarl tore from Sans' jaws, and Papyrus whirled to see him rising from the snow, eyes wild and tail lashing. Papyrus backed away with a whine--the last time he'd seen his brother this angry, they'd been facing down their creator. Still growling, Sans' gaze darted as though the flower might appear at any second--and made the others jump when he suddenly fired a beam at a stick waving in the breeze. Panting, he twitched at any sign of movement--a blade of dry grass bobbed, and was instantly evaporated. A dry pine needle dropped and was scorched into oblivion before it hit the ground. Undyne called his name and raised her hand to placate him--

Papyrus leapt in front of her, taking the brunt of the blast. It couldn't do much to him, and maybe it wouldn't have done anything to Undyne either, but he didn't want her getting hurt. And it got Sans to stop.

Sans stared at him, steam trailing away from his jaws as he panted. His eyes winked out, and he sank down with a low moan. Papyrus loped over, warbling softly to show he was okay. Sans moaned again, looking up at him mournfully, and Papyrus nuzzled his snout. He'd forgiven him for this already, just as he'd forgiven the broken arm. It wasn't Sans' fault so many bad things had happened to him.

"Is he okay...?"

Papyrus looked up and chirped, waving his tail. His brother was okay, just sad and scared.

"That's good. I don't blame him for being so mad. Honestly? When I found out what that flower did? I destroyed a whole tree. We haven't found him yet, but, maybe once you guys are healed up you can help us look for him so he can face justice."

Papyrus made an uncertain groan. Somehow, he knew it wouldn't be so easy.

"But... we can deal with it later," Undyne continued. "Let's get you guys back home, huh?"

Papyrus lashed his tail. He was still scared, and knew Sans would be too. Was it really okay...?"

"Listen, if nothing else--I'll be right beside you, and won't let ANYTHING bad happen. If anyone even TRIES to start something, they're going to be facing ME before they can get near you guys. Heh... you know Papyrus, that was your idea. Guess I should've listened to you."

Papyrus blinked. He didn't remember that idea, but Undyne was saying she should have listened to him? He'd had a good idea? And she thought so?! He bounced, prancing around and chattering proudly, and Undyne laughed.

"Yeah yeah, you were right. If we wanna get back in time for dinner though, we better start now. You guys managed to get pretty far out here, so I'm afraid we've got a ways to go."

Papyrus hooted in agreement before turning to look at his brother, who was still laying in the snow. He gave an inquisitive chirp, then padded over and nuzzled him. Sans only rasped a sigh, and Papyrus' spirits sank. Didn't he want to go home? He nudged him, then thought--maybe he just didn't have the strength--and bounded over to pick up the unfinished sandwich and offered it to him again.

But Sans weakly turned away.

"I can just carry him," Undyne offered, and Papyrus whined. He wasn't sure he'd let her...

But Undyne stood and walked over, rolling her shoulders as she thought how best to go about this. She bent, wedging her hands under Sans' ribcage and hips, and much to Papyrus' surprise lifted him without complaint or protest. She draped him across her shoulders, and he hung limp--it seemed he really had given up. Undyne did her best to brace him, then turned.

"See? Easy. He doesn't even weigh like, anything. Also, I guess you can have the rest of that," she said wincingly, indicating the sandwich he still had in his jaws. "I've still got another in case Sans decides he's hungry on the way, and we'll be getting back to civilization soon enough. If there's anything you wanna bring with, you better grab that too."

Papyrus thought, then knocked his head back to finish the sandwich off before heading to the den. He didn't think there was anything, but... He dug through the leaf litter a bit, but all that remained was the scrap of fabric he'd found earlier and a few old food wrappers he'd scavenged. Nothing he needed. He popped back out, giving a short bark to indicate he was ready, and Undyne grinned.

"Alright you guys, let's head home."

Papyrus needed no further encouragement, happily following her as she retraced her path back to Snowdin. Snowdin! He'd be seeing it again! His real house, his things--he'd spent too long trapped inside it once, but now he just wanted to curl up in his own bed, play with his action figures, read his puzzle books again. And if Undyne was right, then he'd even get to see his neighbors and there'd be no screaming, or attacking, or fear or panic or hurt or--

Undyne looked back at him, having noticed his bones rattling. "Everything okay, punk?"

He snapped his head up and chirped. Yes! He was alright, those nerves wouldn't get the best of him. He was a very brave skeleton.

They finally set foot on a road, and Papyrus froze. The last time he'd been on a road, he'd... Focused on making her way forward, it took Undyne a little while to notice the lack of footsteps behind her. But she finally did, and turned.

"Papyrus...? Oh." She made her way back to him. "Still nervous, huh?"

He could only remain still, too full of dread.

"C'mon, it'll be okay. Everyone's been going crazy not knowing if you guys are alive."

She reached out and patted his shoulder, and he took a deep breath. That's right. She was his friend, who wouldn't let anything happen to him or his brother. It would be fine. He took a hesitant step forward, and Undyne kept her hand on his scapula the rest of the way. A light snow was beginning to fall, but something about the air pressure told Papyrus it would become heavier soon. He hoped they got home before it got too bad, but it seemed to mean no one was out and about. He breathed a little easier.

"Undyne?!" a soft, distant voice called, and Papyrus faltered. "Oh my god, it's Undyne--I thought I could smell her. Hurry up Dogamy, maybe she's found something."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," another voice replied, and soon enough, two figures materialized out of the falling snow on the path ahead--the Dogi.

Undyne waved eagerly. "I found them!"

Papyrus was unsure at first, but--no, no, he knew these monsters, they weren't going to hurt him and it'd been so long since he'd seen or spoken to anyone! He bounded ahead to meet them, circling the two exuberantly before running back to Undyne. The Dogi seemed taken aback though, and he hesitated--oh no, had he scared them...?

"Is that...?" Dogamy piped up, and Dogaressa reached for his paw.

"Not that we doubted you, but, it's something else to see in person... They really are shaped differently," she said, taking in the brothers' altered forms. "Are they alright? How can we help?"

"Being attacked and fending for themselves has done a number on 'em, but they'll be okay," Undyne answered. "Right Papyrus?"

He chirped an affirmation, and the Dogi both tilted their heads at the odd sound. Oh, that was funny--he chirped again, and they tilted their heads the other way.

"What's that sound?"

"Why's that sound?"

"Papyrus, quit messing with 'em" Undyne laughed. "Uh, I guess it's complicated, but, as far as I can tell, when he's like this, it's harder to talk for some reason. He can still understand us just fine, he just... can't talk."

Papyrus whined, and the dogs seemed to understand that well enough, their tails and ears drooping.

"Well, what do you need us to do, Captain?"

Undyne pursed her lips as she thought. "I'm not sure... I don't think they want to meet everyone just yet, so I wouldn't go sounding any alarms or making any announcements. Hmm... Papyrus, do you think Sans'll want to eat something from Grillby's?"

He shrugged to the best of his ability, dipping his head. It was worth a shot--and Sans seemed to agree, moving for the first time since Undyne had picked him up. Papyrus reached over to nuzzle him, then looked up at Undyne.

"Alright. If you guys could get something for Sans from Grillby's--you know what he likes, right?"

The dogi nodded.

"Cool. I'll pay you back when we meet up at the brothers' house, okay?"

The Dogi saluted, then Dogaressa turned to Papyrus.

"It's really good to see you're alright. We've been so worried ever since we heard Sans was sick... If there's any way we can help you two, please let us know, alright? I'm sure we'll see you soon."

"Absolutely," Dogamy confirmed. "Town just hasn't been the same without either of you."

Papyrus gave a low, wavering hoot, and bowed his head. He'd been missed... He felt very foolish, thinking that hiding had been the answer to his problems back when this all started. Really, it had only led to more, and he wished he'd seen that sooner.

They waved the Dogi off as they trotted ahead to put in Sans' order, leaving them alone on the road again.

"See, told you guys didn't I?" Undyne started as she set off. "No one wanted that mess with the flower to happen, and have missed you guys for even longer. Even I didn't realize how much you meant to everyone... They'll all be glad to see you."

Papyrus hooted, and nuzzled her arm before taking the lead. He was feeling much better about how things would go now. The first lights of town shone through the steady snowfall, and a feeling he couldn't describe filled him. He hadn't seen it like this in so long... but he'd decided--his days of hiding were over from now on.

They made it to their house without further encounters--the snow had begun coming in thick, so no doubt a blizzard would be keeping everyone hunkered indoors. Papyrus was a little disappointed--but, he knew Sans wasn't ready for so much attention, even if he normally thrived on it. Undyne laid him down on their couch, then helped Papyrus clean things up after his home had been left neglected. He also took the time to clean himself--unlike other animals, or even monsters, skeletons didn't exactly have many ways to groom themselves. His hands and feet in particular had mud staining them, and the hard-to-reach spots between his vertebrae especially needed tending. It was a relief to clamber into a warm shower and wash it all away. Sans needed a good scrub too, but they could see to that later.

It wasn't long before the Dogi had arrived with the order from Grillby's; Undyne took it, paid them, and bid them goodnight before bringing the food over to the couch. Papyrus had just gotten a clean blanket out, and the two converged on the small, listless skeleton. Papyrus flung the blanket over him, working to spread it evenly over his spines and tail while Undyne got his favorite order unwrapped.

"Alright bonehead, maybe that sandwich earlier wasn't your thing, but we got you a burger from Grillby's. That's gotta sound good, right?" Undyne coaxed, placing it next to Sans' head.

Papyrus watched in anticipation as his brother sniffed at it--but then, only took a tiny bite before turning away again. A sharp wail burst from him--this was his brother's favorite food and he still wouldn't eat! What was wrong, what could he do, was Sans sick, would he die?! He paced anxiously from one side of the room to the other before Undyne stopped him by the shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay Papyrus. I know you're worried--honestly, I am too. But, maybe Sans just needs some time to rest or process stuff. You guys have been through a lot, so..."

Papyrus wanted to say that he knew. His thoughts were getting clearer, but his voice was stubbornly clinging to animalistic expressions. He couldn't say just how bad it was--he could only sit on the floor and shiver.

Undyne frowned. "I... don't really know what'll help. But, I was thinking... maybe I should stay with you guys for a while, make sure you're settled in. We can make snacks, watch movies... actually... actually give you guys something normal, for once. Does that sound okay?"

Papyrus nodded, and she pulled him into a hug. He didn't know if he'd be able to relax, but he wanted this house to feel like his again. He also wasn't ready to say goodbye to Undyne yet, even if he knew she'd be back soon. So they set things up, found Mettaton's 24/7 movie channel, and got comfortable. At one point, Undyne decided to noogie him, and it turned into an all-out wrestling match. She managed to pin him, and he was too tired for another round--but it had felt good to roughhouse.

It was well after Undyne had fallen asleep that Papyrus hopped up onto the couch, stepping carefully around his brother so he could curl up next to him. The burger still sat by his head, cold and untouched; Papyrus was careful not to disturb it in case his brother would want it later. His brother... Papyrus nudged his snout, checking on him--it was hard to tell if he was asleep or not, his eyes half-open and breathing slow.

Oh Sans... It seemed like he really had given up--not just on being his old self, but even trying to move forward as who he was now. Whatever had happened before they'd reunited had taken its toll, and Papyrus could only wonder what had driven his brother to such complete apathy. Attacking people he'd once been friends with probably didn't help either... and then, when he'd startled him one morning and been bitten... Regardless, Papyrus knew he had to make his brother see a reason to keep going, but he didn't have the slightest idea how. Even when they'd been trapped in a lab, treated as little more than curiosities, Sans had never been this bad. He was at a loss...

But, too sleepy to keep thinking about it. Laying on something soft, in a safe warm house, with his brother and his friend by his side, was lulling his eyes closed. He knew his body needed the rest, so he let it. As soon as he could, he'd work on getting his real voice back if only to talk some sense into his brother.

[btsmutimagines]

Washed Up (M)

A/N: Idk why I’m embarrassed to admit this but I listen to Korean boyfriend ASMR sometimes because I’m a sad lonely hoe and I love deep voices so I listened to one but I can’t find it anymore T-T however I vividly remember how it went down so... enjoy I guess

Requested (forever ago):  Can you write a dom taehyung smut , where he is protective and possessive in celebration for taehyung's blue hair? +  Daddy kink , over simulation, marking/giving hickeys , spanking , orgasm denial , body worship and possession kink? (was asking for kinks at the time lol)

Word Count: 4.1k

THe BLUE HAIR STARTED THIS FSKLDKL

Have you ever started the day, feeling ready for whatever life wants to toss at you but as the day progresses, every possible worst-case scenario you could muster up starts to feel like your reality?

That’s the kind of day you were having.

It started with your car stopping halfway to your job because you forgot to fill your tank and you had to hitchhike with a stranger to a gas station who kept insisting that they could drop you off at work but you weren’t about to leave your baby on the side of the road for god knows how long. Your eyes kept looking at your rear-view mirror, making sure that your ‘goodwill’ stranger wasn’t following you to work.

Thanks to your forgetfulness, you were late to work where you met with your supervisor breathing down your neck because you were apparently scheduled for a meeting that was behind schedule due to your tardiness and your supervisor had to roughly start on his own.

You jumped in, trying to not mess up the entire presentation but you ended up messing up on some of the quarterly sales to be corrected by one of the investors. You knocked over a chart, the PowerPoint presentation that you spent weeks on wouldn’t open for a good 20 minutes which was filled with you and your supervisor awkwardly trying to joke with the investors. Oh, not to mention that your coworker had mentioned to you after you got up that you missed a button on your blouse so whenever you leaned over, you were flashing them a nice view of your bra and cleavage.

Hell, maybe that will distract them from the train wreck of a presentation.

You just plopped back into your seat, trying to start your next presentation and making sure that it opened properly every time you saved and exited it. Amid your work, one of the senior girls came over to you and started to make small chat with you.

“Oh, hey hun.”

“Oh, hi.”

“You seemed really busy.”

“Kind of. Is there something you need?”

“Oh, Y/N, what makes you think that I only came over so you could do something for me?” Dunno, maybe because the last time you came over to chat, you left me with 15-page assignments that were due the next morning? While your ass went out for drinks with one of your ‘companions’ You had chills run down your spine at the thought of this woman and how she gets around a man she is pining over.

It had nothing to do with her age (she has solidified cougar status), but it was the overly seductive side that she tries to portray. She tries to mystify every man she takes a liking to, but it shouldn’t take too much to get someone who likes you as well to get to the hint, but she liked to overemphasize her interest.

Maybe it’s your way of thinking, seeing as your boyfriend could be as dense as men come, but you like to think the old ‘being yourself’ trick works well.

She still gets her men, so that’s all that matters to her, you guess?

“But since you were such a dear to ask,” here we go again.

“I was supposed to stay to midnight to examine one of my newest client’s records, but I promised my sister that I would watch her kids while she and her husband went out for dinner.” You internally sighed, knowing that she was probably making an elaborate excuse, but you also had no reason why you wanted to get out of it anyways.

“Of course, wouldn’t want to leave children unattended.” You said with a hint of sarcasm, but she still dropped the huge binder on your desk anyway. She took her high heeled self away from yourself with a fake smile before going back to her cubicle on the other side of the room.

One of these days she’s going to really need you and you’re going to make sure that you have some kind of plans that were so foolproof that she’ll have to actually, you know, do her damn job.

You checked your watch, only seeing that it was 10. You leaned your head back a bit, stretched your arms before getting back to fixing your presentation.

“Hey, Y/N?” You sighed, looking at one of your coworkers walking up to you. He only came over to you to do one of two things: awkwardly ask you to go to lunch with him or fix the copier because you ‘had the magic touch’. You were pretty sure he just wanted to watch you squat to fill the paper or to lean over to check if it was even plugged in.

“What is it?”

“I was working with the copier, but it wasn’t working again, I was wondering if you would check it out for me?” You got up, following him to the copy room. The copier was on this time, you saw that it was just waiting for confirmation before printing and you accepted.

“You didn’t know how to confirm a print job?”

“It wasn’t working before? It wouldn’t print when I confirmed, you see.” The copier printed a single page and you handed it over to him and he stopped you from leaving.

“Don’t you want to make sure it worked?”

“It clearly did since it printed if you would excuse me-”

“Just look at it for me?”

“Uh.”

“What I mean is that, wouldn’t you feel partially responsible if the copier screwed up after helping me out?”

“No.”

“What?”

“You broke the copier and I couldn’t fix it. I’m not maintenance. Now, can you like take two steps to the left?” You were ready to tackle this dude, not really caring about what the office would think but he flipped over the page in front of you.

It was simple, it had the picture of him holding a sign saying ‘lunch?’.

“I wonder how much Mrs. Kang would appreciate you using office supplies to ask a taken woman to lunch.”

“Taken? By who?”

“None of your business. Now, move it.” You rubbed your temples, regretting even trying to help that kid. You had to admit, his persistence would be valuable if it was for actual work.

You worked through your lunch, settling for food from the cafeteria and your senior coworker walked past you.

“Aw, you poor thing.”

“What?”

“Having to eat from the cafeteria. That young man in our department just treated me to lobster.” What? That kid could afford lobster for lunch? You thought he would just take you to the cafeteria and try to awkwardly feed you or something, but not some fancy lunch? Now, your soup seemed pretty inferior to the lobster you could have been digging into…

“That poor boy told me how you rejected him so harshly when he just wanted to treat you to a nice lunch since you worked so hard.” Of course, she ate up his sob story, he was footing the damn bill.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate to let another man take me out to lunch when I have a boyfriend.”

“You? A boyfriend?” She laughed mockingly, you rolled your eyes and faced her.

“Honey, you should explore your options. Men are like a buffet, why restrict yourself to only your favourites when there are so many things that you can sample?”

“Because my boyfriend is like my favourite restaurant, sure there are things that I know I’ll love but there are more things that I would discover. To everyone else, it’s just another restaurant but I love it.”

“Ugh. Listening to you is going to make me vomit the lovely lobster I just enjoyed. Enjoy your little soup.” She basically spat the last line at you, you flipped her off when her back was turned to you.

Without any further interruptions, you fixed your presentation and began to read through the client records that Ms. ‘Men are buffet’ should have been looking at. She even walked past you, exclaiming how excited she was to get home after a long day at work.

The office began to dwindle in people, your office light being one of the few that were still on and you started to yawn when you were reading the plans for the product. It was only 6 in the evening; a small nap couldn’t hurt…

You shut the binder, placing it on your table and placing your keyboard up on the base of your monitor to give your arms more room. As soon as you shut your eyes, you started to doze off.

You woke up to the sound of your ringtone next to your ear and you groggily answered.

What do you want?

Is that really how you want to start this conversation, baby?

Yes. If you can’t tell me why you decided to grace me with this phone call, I’m hanging up

Are you forgetting that you said that you wanted to come over tonight and it’s now 10?

No, I-shit, I did, didn’t I?

Yes, Ms. Forgetful.

I’ll be right there.

Wait-

You hung up before he could finish, turning off your light and grabbing your coat. You rushed down to the parking lot and getting in your car. It was raining outside, you forgot to check the weather before you left the house, but you had a car, so it wouldn’t matter, right?

That is, if your car would actually start.

“Fuck.” You saw the battery symbol light up, you cursed out loud and hit the steering wheel. You got out of the car, locking it and decided to trudge in the rain. His place wasn’t that far away, and you didn’t want to spend the money on a taxi.

So, you show up to your boyfriend, Taehyung’s doorstep, shivering and wet from the rain and he opened the door. He looked all warm and comfy in his sweats and a loose shirt and began to ‘tsk’ at you.

“If you let me finish, Y/N, I would have said that it was raining and that we could have met for breakfast or something.”

“Well, you were talking too slow.”

“I think you know how fast I can be, baby.”

“Are you going to stand there and boast or let me in?”

“My, my, you’re snappier today.”

“Well, my warm and dry boyfriend is just chatting up a storm while I’m cold, shivering and dealing with a kinda shitty day, thanks for asking by the way.”

“That was my next question, I swear.”

“Mhm.” He pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you and you looked at him with your arms crossed.

“To be fair, you’re the one that showed up late.”

“Well, I got extra work shoved on me because one of my coworkers, you know the one with the curly auburn hair that pinned in a weird updo?”

“The one that flirted with me when you went to get drinks?”

“I swear any relatively young-looking man with a pulse is her type.”

“Wait, relatively young-looking? What does that even mean?”

“You have a baby face.”

“Excuse you, I look extremely manly.”

“Oh, honey.” You said, touching his arm.

“God, don’t talk like that woman.”

“Sorry, she kept saying that to me today and I need a detox from her.”

“Agreed.”

“Anyways, she shoved her work on me to finish. Then some dude in the office asked me out to lunch. I said no, don’t worry yourself, Mr. Jealous.” You could see the relief wash over him as you said the last sentence, but it was quickly replaced with fake shock.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your expression speaks volumes, but I missed out on some lobster.”

“Pfft. Lobster. Baby, I could get you a four-course seafood extravaganza. Calamari, lobster, crab, whatever you name it.”

“Mussels?”

“Of course.”

“Shrimp?”

“Baby, who do you think I am?”

“Maybe, you’re not too bad, I guess.  You would make better company, anyways.”

“I can do much more than that.”

“And what’s that?”

“How about I get a nice, warm shower running, give you the one sweater you like to wear,”

“I like to wear it or you like seeing me in it?”

“Why can’t it be both, love?”

“What else?”

“And we can have some nice cuddles while we watch that movie you were talking about?”

“Hm. You seem to know me pretty well.”

“Only been at this for almost 2 years, I think I have some hindsight now.”

“That smart brain of yours should probably tell those feet to start moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, turning on his heel and walking to the bathroom. You giggled a little as he saluted you before entering the bathroom.

“Such a dork.” You took off your shoes, placing them on the rack next to his and peeling off your coat. A shiver made you rub your arms with your hands and rush down to the bathroom.

“Didn’t think you would come in so soon.”

“Well, you did say a nice shower, not a bath.”

“Better warm you up faster, maybe the snappiness will wash away.”

“Eh.” You exclaimed, slightly offended and he chuckled.

“I was joking, babe.”

“Oh, so you think you’re funny now, huh?”

“When wasn’t I funny?”

“Were you ever funny?”

“That’s just a low blow, you know that’s a core part of my being.”

“You kind of walked into that one, bud.”

“Fair.” He began to unbutton your blouse, your wet bra accentuating your breasts and hardened nipple due to the cold rain.

“It was really cold.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” He stood close, your face gently pressed into his chest as he unzipped your pencil skirt and sliding it down. He took his time with your stockings, his face conveniently in front of your panties and he hooked his fingers along the strap.

“Control yourself, mister.”

“Of course, where are my manners? You can’t be the only one naked here.”

“That’s not what I…” He stood up abruptly, tossing his shirt over his head to reveal his torso. You appreciated the fact he wasn’t a gym monkey like Jungkook, besides it’s fine to play with his stomach.

“Cute.”

“What kind of reaction is that?”

“What? Your tummy is cute.” He sighed, you poked his tummy and he tried to fight the smile on his face before holding your hands.

“You’re ruining the mood.”

“What mood? I’m taking a shower and you took off your shirt for no reason.”

“I never said that you would be washing yourself. It’s more relaxing if someone else does it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Plus, we can spend more time together, we missed out on some quality time.”

“Fine, but don’t do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“Don’t be coy. You know exactly what I mean, where you put on that smouldering look and act all like Edward from twilight-esque.”

“Are you getting a fever?” He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and you smacked his hand. You slipped out of your underwear and getting behind the curtain. The warm water hitting your skin instantly made you feel better, Taehyung following you not too long after.

“I can shower myself just fine, Taehyung.”

“Y/N.” He singsonged your name, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. He planted a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I just want to help you relax, you’ve had such a long day and deserve to be pampered, hmm?” He didn’t give a real chance to respond, grabbing the loofah he kept for you when you stayed over and added some soap.

“Just close your eyes and let me take care of you.” He rubbed the loofah before gently scrubbing your skin. You listened to his whimsical hums as he glides the loofah as he wished.

“May I?”

“If you have to.” He fondled your chest, him trying to be innocent as possible about it. Although you didn’t miss the gentle brushing against your nipples or him needed to cup more of your breasts because he ‘couldn’t miss a single spot’.

He washed your back, you sensed him getting down his knees as he washed your ass. The way the loofah rubbed against your ass in a gentle circular motion, his hand lightly touching as he moved over the curvature.

He turned you to face him, letting the water now hit your back and his hand touched your leg.

“Lift your leg.” He commanded, you silently obeyed, and he got eye level with your leg. You watched him wash with long strokes, licking his lips a bit as he switched legs.

“All done.”  He stood while saying this, his fingers stroked up your thigh. You pressed your thighs together as a result, looking away from Taehyung who gently turned your head to meet his eyes.

“Let me return the favour.” You quietly said, averting your eyes from his face and grabbed the loofah he used for himself and a dollop of his body wash.

You couldn’t help but stare at the way the soap would wash off his torso, almost drooling when you watched his back muscles slightly contract as you washed his back. Jesus, it was one of the titillating things about him.

“You’re missing a spot, love.”

“Oh-uh you’re a big boy, you can do that yourself.”

“You offered.”

“To wash you, not give you a handjob with soap.”

“How about without the soap?”

“Are your brain cells still functioning?”

“Oh, don’t play games, love. Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring at me.”

“Or how you pressed your thighs together when I just innocently touched them?”

“Or how your nipples are still hard after all this time in the shower?”

“So what if that’s all true? What are you going to do about it?” You knew there was no point in trying to hide your arousal, he could see through you like glass.

“Why don’t you tell me? What do you want me to do?” He leaned in, teasing you by brushing his lips against yours but you pressed your lips against his. You didn’t care about how desperate you were, your lips shamelessly moving against his.

His hands grabbed your ass, you gasped at the sudden movement and he chuckled into your lips.

“Not funny.”

“You gasp like it’s the first time I’ve touched your ass.”

“It just catches me off guard.”

“So cute.”

“Not the exact words I want to hear, Tae.” He chuckled again, you hit his chest and he leaned in to kiss you again. You felt yourself chasing after his lips, seconds separating each kiss you two shared and you comfortably rested your arms around his neck.

His lips trailed along your neck, a small whimper left your lips as he began to nip at your skin. Your hands travelled to his head with a rough tug at his hair.

“I can’t believe that dick at your job doesn’t know you’re mine. All mine.”

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“Of who? I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this.” His left hand sensually rubbed against your inner thigh, his thumb brushing against your folds.

“The only one who gets to hear you like this.”

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath as his right hand expertly fondled your left breast.

“Don’t get quiet on me, sweetheart. I want to hear you while you unravel under my touch.”

“Hands against the wall.” He commanded, you swiftly positioned yourself. You were about to speak when you felt two fingers suddenly enter you.

“Jesus Christ, Taehyung.” You moaned, his fast pace was unforgiving.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking perfect. Your pretty little pussy taking my fingers so easily like it’s made for me.”

“Nngh, fuck, more.” You felt a hard smack on your ass, the sting only stimulating you more.

“Where are your manners, baby? Hm?”

“P-Please fuck- I want more p-please.”

“Good girl.” He obliged to your plea, a third finger squeezing its way into you. The gentle stretch was noticeable, Taehyung’s hand soothing your ass while he did so.

“You alright, baby?”

“Y-Yes.”

“So eager to please.” He continued his reckless pace when he felt you were comfortable, his fingers quickly stretching you out.

“You’re so good, baby, so good.” You could barely focus on Taehyung’s words, pleasure overpowering your senses. Though your incoherent moans, you found yourself on the edge of your orgasm before he stopped.

“What the fuck, Tae-” He silenced you with another slap to your ass, you giving him a silent glare.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you cum, did you?”

“You’re not coming until I see you trembling and sobbing for me to let you cum, understood.”

“Besides, I have to punish you for keeping me waiting.” You wanted to protest, your words barely making it to the tip of your tongue before you felt his fingers plunged back into you.

You were pretty sensitive from before, the addition of his thumb grinding against your clit only made it more of a challenge to stop yourself. He teased you, abruptly stopping for a moment before starting his wicked pace. All you could was stabilize yourself against the wall, getting a few warning smacks from slightly sliding out of position.

“P-Please- Tae. I can’t- Wanna cum-” You sobbed, not caring about your broken words and he rested his hands on your ass.

“In due time, baby. First, on your knees.” He watched as you shakily knelt in front of him, being formally acquainted with his throbbing erection. You silently awed at how he could show restraint while he was this hard.

You didn’t need a word before you wrapped around him, maintaining a good grip as you pumped his cock at a moderate pace. Licking your lips, you allowed the head to enter your mouth. Your tongue ever so slowly swirled around it, licking away the leaky precum and he groaned in response.

His hands made their way into your wet hair, sloppily gripping the strands as you began to bob your head in a rhythmic pace. You found yourself growing wet at the sounds of him cursing your name as you blew him.

“Fuck, your lips are so beautiful around my cock.”

“Love the way I hit your pretty little throat.”

“Fuck, makes me want to cum and watch you swallow it all up like a fucking good girl.”

“Shit-“ You stopped, wiping off a string of saliva that connected your lips to his cock. He helped you up, turning you to face the wall adjacent to you and lifting your leg. With his other hand, he rubbed the head of his cock against you.

“Quit teasing me already.”

“But it’s so much fun.”

“Taehyung.” You whined, him having the audacity to chuckle before slowly sliding into you.

“Fuck.” You two muttered seemingly at once, he was still for a moment before beginning to thrust his hips into yours.

He leaned in to kiss you, muffling your moans as he began to bang into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, focusing on the insurmountable euphoria that came with each thrust of his cock. It was mind-numbing how he knew every sweet spot on your body from your neck to your collarbone. From your chest to your stomach, down to your hips and thighs and eventually your cunt.

And you knew him well, how much he liked when you tugged at his hair, the way his face heats up when you nibble on his ear. The way he moans when you kissed his neck and under his jaw, leaving haphazard hickeys wherever you felt. You knew he liked the way you straddle his thighs, not so discreetly grinding on him until he was uncomfortably hard and leave him to his own devices. His body was moulded to every touch you made and you loved it.

“Fucking shit, baby.” He growled in your ear, you biting your lips once again but unable to mask the whimpers from his attentive ears.

“Let me hear you.”

“Please-fuck, harder.” He graced you with a rougher pace, you needing to press your back against the wall before you slammed into it from his thrusts. You moaned at the hard grip he had on your thigh from holding your leg up and you could feel yourself stumbling to stay up.

“You like that, baby, huh? Fucking you so good you won’t want any dick but mine.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m a-all fucking yours.”

“Good fucking girl. You wanna cum?”

“F-Fuck, please.” He smirked, his free hand immediately rubbing your clit. Your legs trembled as you came, the release causing you to cry out.

He came a bit after you had, delectable groans escaping his lips as he did so. The two of you glanced at each other breathlessly, neither of you speaking as you caught your breaths.

“I think I have to clean you up again.”

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (3/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: This has been sitting on my computer untouched for a while, along with the timeline I prepared for a multichapter fic. Will probs go back to it soon. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The forms were so painfully boring, Levi almost regretted agreeing to meet Moblit. One of the few things, if not the only thing, stopping him from backing out of the study then and there, was the hope it could give him an excuse to see her again. He planned to ease himself into the process of meeting her, not wanting to make a complete fool or a complete stalker of himself.

There was the option to ask for her number. The option to ask for her schedule. Or he could maybe just scan through enough pages on google to find some hint as to what the hell she does, where she goes and where he could possibly “accidentally” meet her. The last option had proved ineffective, Levi spent a good few hours a day doing just that. Just in case maybe, the links he found through google do change.

The sheer embarrassment and conflicted feelings that came with having delusion drive his actions, had Levi worse off than before. Although the nightmares that left him in pain in the mornings had become few and far between, he could not help but think that possibly the reason why was because he barely got any sleep anymore, kept awake by his brain trying to process that relationship he had with Hange and the story that was made known to him.

His five hours a night had dwindled into three when classes started. His brain having no time to process the dreams during classes and training, Levi found himself taking up more time lying awake in bed, building the world his dreams were telling him about and how Hange fit into all of it.    

The lack of sleep caught up to him particularly when he was sifting through the pages of waivers and information sheets in the coffee shop near campus at nine in the morning. The words started to blur into blobs and Levi became aware of how much he hated Calibri as a font, a small issue in the grand scheme of things. Lacking sleep and utterly frustrated at his lack of progress though, Levi was finding many reasons not to read them.

He eventually gave up, instead checking box after box after box. “When do you need this?” Levi asked Moblit who sat in front of him.

“As soon as possible… But I really recommend you read ---”

“Well, how much time are you gonna give me to read?”

“I don’t have any classes today so I’m pretty much free the whole day.”

“Same.” He felt the venom in his tone particularly resonate and a part of him regretted it as he said it. That day was particularly special. He had no class. With their coach out on a meeting with other schools to discuss the tournaments and line ups this year, he had given the players a day off. Levi pretty much had that whole day to himself yet, he still went to the trouble of dressing up just to meet Moblit only to find out he’d be going through pages worth of documents while half awake. “I’ll just get a cup of coffee.”

Levi was already halfway out of seat when Moblit took out his wallet.  

“Let me pay for it.” Moblit handed Levi a few bills. He had an apologetic look on his face as if he did understand the inconvenience the study would cause anyone. The look Moblit gave him suddenly made Levi self conscious about the tone he had been answering Moblit with since a while ago.

Levi took the money with a small nod of thanks. It was free coffee after all and he did not have much leeway given his monthly allowance.

When Levi got back to their table black coffee in one hand, he could see that Moblit had reorganized the papers, the uncompleted page sitting neatly on top. He had also opened the sandwich he had bought half an hour ago and was eating it already

“Before I forget, did you bring Hange’s keychain?” Moblit asked in between bites.

“Ah, I forgot about that.” Levi kept his tone emotionless for fear of having his guilt take over him. In fact, he never did forget about the keychain. It sat on the side table next to his bed, a glimmer of hope that that morning in the track wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

“Maybe I could come back to your dorm with you and get it after this?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m not going straight to the dorm. I have plans after this.” A blatant lie. Levi rarely forgot plans.

“Really?”

Levi made a show of going through his phone as he sat down. “Sorry, I didn’t check my calendar this morning. It looks like I have to work on my own stuff for my thesis with my groupmates.” Seniors did not have as many classes as lowerclassmen so the excuse for classes probably would not have worked. As Levi also was aware, the weight of the responsibility lost by only having two classes a week was replaced with the weight of the expectation of creating their own research to add to the body of knowledge in their major.

“How long is your meeting? Maybe I could stop by...” Moblit looked unsure about his own suggestion as if he too understood too the importance of thesis for any senior.

“I dunno. It’s our first meeting and it’s pretty important since we still don’t have much planned.” At that moment, Levi thanked the heavens for his course. He was taking an interdisciplinary track so people had the option to do their thesis by group or individually. His choice of his classes had made it so that he had to do his thesis individually. Moblit did not need to know that much though.

The magic word “thesis” eventually did work in the conversation between the two seniors and finally, Moblit had dropped his shoulders in defeat. “Sorry if I’m being a little pushy. I guess that keychain is just pretty important to me too. I was the one who gave it to her.”  

Levi studied the face of Moblit as they talked. Molit did not have the most memorable face so Levi had not figured it out at first glance. As he allowed himself a few seconds to focus on his features and match it to those in his dream, he realized that Moblit was the same soldier who was constantly following Hange in his dreams. “You two must be close,” Levi said. Hange and I were close too.

"We're childhood friends.”

Levi found himself envying Moblit’s place in Hange’s life. Not wanting to engage that thought though, he instead decided to digress into something more positive for him. “So you'd know why she seemed pretty enthusiastic about her thesis.”

“She’s just passionate and gets a little too excited at times.” Moblit gave an embarrassed smile from what could have been second hand embarrassment. “I really hope you didn’t end up hating her. She really wanted to get to know you.”

“Oh really?” Then why doesn’t she. Levi added to himself.

“She’s been studying athletes since we were in high school. One of our friends was actually the subject of our final thesis for high school and Hange won best research with her. She wanted to move on to studying more high level athletes and she was talking non stop about the possibility of working with an athlete here. Then when we were scouting around for athletes to possibly study, she started showing me a lot of videos of you. She could talk non stop about your form, the height you achieved, your body control. I guess that was until you guys ended up meeting...” Moblit looked like he was aware of the weight of that statement and had tried to lighten the mood with a light laugh.

Levi rearranged that last sentence in his head. Until she met me.

Moblit had trailed off from there and Levi wondered how what kind of face he was making for Moblit to realize he had felt guilty about it.

Moblit gave Levi a consoling look. “She seems to be progressing well with Elijah though.”

For a second, Levi could not fathom how Moblit got the idea that that sentence could console him. In fact, just knowing that Hange had gotten over him so fast, had his chest knotting up.

On the outside though, he made sure to raise his eyebrows and nod, to look at least a little surprised and interested. “How’s her research so far?”

Moblit shook his head in amazement. “She's working at a much faster pace than I am. After what happened with you, it’s pretty admirable she bounced back so fast.”

“I don’t hate her. I could work with her if she really wants to.”

“God, this makes me think I should have started earlier." Moblit rested his forehead on his palm. "Your suggestion might be hard... Last time I checked, she was neck deep in her research with Elijah already.”

Even as a senior, there were places on campus Levi had never visited. All of his classes were clustered in one small area of the campus.  The track he would rush to train in would be just a five minute walk away, his dorm a fifteen minute walk or a five minute bike.

He never had any reason to visit the other side which housed the science students and the laboratories. Possibly, one of the reasons why he had never met Hange until that day in the track.

It was a ten minute walk from his dormitory, in a completely different direction from his buildings and the track. He decided to abandon his bike for the more flexible option of walking. He did not know if they had have any place to park a bike nor how long he would be there. More importantly, he wanted the freedom of slowing his pace without considering the traffic as he took in the unfamiliar scenery.

Third floor. Fritz Hall.

In fact, he did not need the directions to the biology department. He could have easily asked anyone among the students there. The more important information was the room number and the laboratory name.

He clutched the keychain in his pocket and  took the stairs two at a time arriving into a narrow corridor that stretched into both directions.

Thesis labs. Or that was how Mobilit described them. Each biology professor managed a laboratory for students. There were those who focused on internal medicine, those who focused on epidemiology. In each of those rooms was an office and a lab for senior students doing research under the guidance of a professor of a similar specialty.

If he wanted to find Hange, the office was their best chance. Room 301. It would be at one of the ends of the corridors. He only had to figure out the order of the numbers and from there, walk towards the end of the hall. He gripped the handle of the door and pushed it down, only pushing slightly at the door to open a crack wide enough to peek in.

“May I help you?”

“You’re Erwin Smith…” Just like with Hange, Levi had quickly picked up the name as he saw him.

“Yes I am. Nice to meet you.” Erwin did not look surprised to see that someone had named him by face. That was enough of a hint for Levi to realize that that man was probably their professor on top of how he dressed and how he carried himself.

“I’m looking for Hange Zoe.” Levi decided at that moment not to lie. He was sure he could find a reason to justify wanting to give it directly to Hange. He did not want to consider it at that moment. He just wanted to see her.

“She has class now but you can wait for her inside the lab." He gave Levi a onceover. You must be Elijah then.”

Levi gave a subtle nod, hoping Erwin would at least not take that as a full yes later on. At that point in time, he just wanted to minimize the questions he might need to answer. HIs heart was beating hard and his mind was racing. He had gone behind Moblit’s back, taking note of the schedule shared to him and picking a time where Moblit would not be in the office. Pretense and lies were nothing new to Levi but the presence of Erwin in the room particularly made Levi feel dirty for going through all that just to meet one person. With Erwin in front of him, for the first time he felt guilty lying.

"It's obvious from your build that you've been jumping and running your whole life. I hope you could give Hange some good data. All she’s been talking about was this study since I agreed to take her in."

“What’s her research about?” Was she enjoying working with Elijah so far? Was she happy? There were too many things Levi had wanted to ask but he found himself treading along the narrow path of things only Elijah would have known.

Erwin looked at him questioningly. “She wants to do a case study. I expected she’d at least tell you that much.” He shook his head and smiled. “She always had trouble explaining science jargon to the average person.”

Levi wanted to kick himself. Erwin at least answered his own question on any suspicion he might have about Levi (or Elijah.)

“Elijah, do me a favor and ask her yourself. I’d rather Hange also learned how to communicate science to the average person.” Erwin tapped Levi on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home. NIfa’s in the laboratory right now so she can keep you company. You can also use the computer while waiting.”

Levi only noticed the book bag Erwin was holding to his side as he looked back at him. He could not help but feel a bout of disappointment as he saw the professor walk away. It felt like there was still a lot to learn from him.

Levi entered the laboratory to find a woman with auburn hair hunched over a microscope. “Where’s Erwin going?” He asked.

“Erwin?” Nifa looked up from her  “Doctor Smith you mean?”

Nifa. That’s her name. Oddly, Levi did not need to ask for her name either.

Nifa only confirmed it a second later after chastising him for calling Erwin his first name. ‘Doctor Smith did not roll out of Levi’s tongue as well as Erwin. The most Levi could hope for was he never faced a situation where he had to call him by name again. A long shot if he ended up working with Hange or Moblit. At the same time, a worry he did not want to occupy himself with again.

“Hange’s class ends at two so you’re gonna have to wait an extra thirty minutes. You can use the computer over there to pass the time.”

Levi looked down at his phone to see only one bar on the upper right.

“Yeah, problems about being stationed at the corner of the building. No signal. And the wifi is only strong enough for a laptop.” Nifa gestured at her own laptop next to the microscope.

Levi walked towards the computer. It was an older model but it looked well loved. He only had to click on his mouse for the screen to boot up to the home screen with some desktop background which looked like some campaign for underprivileged kids and untapped potentials.

He clicked on the google chrome icon. The option to restore pages from a previous session popped up. He had considered completely ignoring it but he considered it might be someone’s precious browsing history and instead decided to leave it on and to just open an incognito instead for his own personal browsing

He was ready to open one up when he saw the tabs that had opened up in front of him.

Ackerman bags gold, Miller silver in the Collegiate Cup.

Levi looked to the profile on the right to see that it was Hange’s Google profile logged into the account. She was researching him?

That small glimmer of what could have been happiness dissipated as soon as Levi figured out the pattern of the articles.

It wasn’t about him.

High Jump Superstar Miller breaks record in high school meet.

Miller commits to Paradis University.

College sophomore Miller bags gold in Horizontal Jump Event.

It was torture looking through the multiple tabs that reopened. As painful as it was, he still  wanted to confirm if Hange really was ‘neck deep’ in her research. The bookmarked pages, he also decided to take a peek at had confirmed his fear. There were fifty if not a hundred tabs with article titles mentioning that one athlete.

Levi found himself closing the tabs as he went through them, a small rebellion to the reality in front of him. Hange probably bookmarked them if she needed them anyway. He stopped as he came across a Youtube video towards the end of the string of tabs.

WATCH: College Junior Ackerman beats both personal and national record for the High Jump Category.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup with record breaking height.

Levi recognized those tournaments. Those were his best jumps, one of them the most recent one he had performed, only earlier that year.

Watching the videos with the commentary felt surreal. In the interviews, he was the one answering the questions but somehow, Levi felt like he was still learning something new from the version of himself of the screen. He never did pay too much attention during interviews, only asking the questions when asked in the manner Coach Greg had directed him too.

Not wanting to confuse himself any longer with what seemed like another out of body experience, he focused again on Hange’s Gmail account which was logged into Youtube. Just to make sure his conclusion had been real. She was still watching his videos.

She had committed to working with Elijah. Why?  

“Miller was slated to be the new superstar in Paradis University with a vertical jump of 8 centimeters  and a promising record height differential of 40 centimeters.”

Levi jumped as he heard someone talk behind him. How long has she been there? It was her voice. Yet at the same time, it was too uncharacteristically serious he did not want to believe it was her. As Levi slowly looked behind me, she only continued to talk.

“But then four years ago, Coach Gregory Rivers scouts a new kid from a small town five hours away from the city. The kid had potential. Enough potential to maybe play backup to Elijah Miller. Levi Ackerman with a vertical leap of 76 centimeters and a record height differential of 37 centimeters.”

“Elijah Miller had a higher overall record. Mike Zacharias and Nanaba Briete too." Mike Zacharias and Nanaba Briete . Those were the two athletes who had cooperated with Hange's study back in high school. Levi had made sure to read her old research, in case he would have to use them to convince her to reconsider him.

“Your numbers in high school weren’t groundbreaking. Unless we consider that you’re 157 centimeters tall." The wonder was back in her voice, completely replacing what he realized was the scientist in her talking. "You did not have the height but you had remarkable control, the core strength, the leg power and the flexibility to fly over the bar even when you’re so close to it. That was what Gregory Rivers saw in you when he scouted you for Paradis University. What he didn't expect was for you to outshine Miller or even the seniors."

Hange came up behind him and grabbed the mouse. As Levi watched her go through the bookmarks, he realized if he had scrolled further, he would have seen more bookmarks.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup.

Super rookie carries Paradis to nationals.

She clicked one of the bookmarks and played the the video that came up. Levi could only watch silently as the Levi on the screen ran towards the bar, and propelled himself through the air. His vertical was definitely much higher than 37 centimeters at that point. In college though, no one in his team was counting anymore. The importance was he got through every jump without ever touching the bar.

"I wanna know Levi. From a nobody from a no name school, how did your height differential increase twofold. More importantly, how is it that you've not failed a single jump since you entered university? It's amazing. The amount of balance, core strength and body control to keep your body flexible enough not to hit the bar. The amount of leg strength needed to jump that high. You really must be superhuman.”

“I’m not.” Regretfully, Levi’s denial was enough for Hange to snap out of her state of what seemed like euphoria.

Hange put her hand to her mouth. "Sorry, I talked too much." With that, she resisted the closeness and was once again a meter away just standing awkwardly behind him. "I guess I should go back to work. Did Moblit tell you what time he'll be coming?"

"Moblit's not coming today."

"Oh... Can I help you with something?" Once again, Hange was watching her words and her movements with him. That was not the Hange from his dreams. The Hange that had introduced herself the first time they had met on the track. It pained Levi to see her like that and he wanted to make it right.

Levi had prepared himself for possible interactions when he read through Hange's old works. At that moment, Levi took control of his feelings. " I came here because I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to consider." He kept his words as careful as Hange's were with him. "I read your case study on Nanaba Briete and Mike Zacharius. And I thought I could probably provide you with similar data, maybe better data. Let me jump for you."

"Levi…"

"No. I wanna jump for you." Levi did not know what Hange had planned to say. At that point, he did not want to give her any doubts to build on.

This time I'm not going to lose you. A voice inside him said. It disappeared soon after and Levi wondered when he had he lost her.

[janekfan]

Stipulations

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26366131/chapters/64217887

(Kind of heavy? Maybe? If you've experienced some of these themes? Or all of them? At once? I just love to project all over these characters soooo...sorry Jon. You must bear the brunt of my emotional ills :D

Basira is an interesting character to me. Like she's been kept in the dark, Jon has lied and been weird and is "eating" people's fears and I get it? But 177, oof. Take your victim blaming elsewhere! Especially considering she's used him for his powers before and is hypocritical when it comes to Daisy. So yeah. Got feels. Here they are all spilled over a page :D )

Weary, the avatar of the Beholding slipped between shadows in the Institute’s dark corridors, lingering at the door behind which were the key to relieving his acute suffering. He didn’t even notice that his trembling fingers were gripping the handle so tightly they ached, or that his face was pressed against the rough surface of the wood until a sharp sound from behind jolted him out of his ravenous longing.

“Jon.”

Basira. Judging from the livid expression on her face, she’d been repeating his name and was not well pleased with what she saw if the hand on her gun was any indication.

“Step. Away.” And the only reason he did, he could was the whisper of fear the Eye could sense, and he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. “Stop.” Whatever was left of Jon obeyed, his own fear of her very real consequences overriding the desire to takefeedriptearsatiate hunger pangs so deep and ingrained that a part of him he couldn’t remember what it was anymore to not feel starved. Who was he without this need?

Who was he that Basira needed to be afraid of him?

“Ba--”

“Shut up.” He did, with the muted click of teeth and a dry swallow. Without the singular focus of what lay behind the door he felt shaky, weak. Like at any moment his legs would give way and he’d be left here on the floor. It happened sometimes. “What are you doing?” What was he doing? She turned from him. “Nevermind. Come with me.”

“Wh’where?” The fierce glare over her shoulder made him flinch and he followed her without any more questions into his office.

Oh.

“Sit down.” Gratefully. The last time she’d had him stand and, well.

“B’Basira.” He tried again, ashamed of the pleading note that crept into his voice. He wasn’t well. He. He didn’t want to do this but even so, her disgusted disappointment was cutting. He didn’t need to Know to know that she thought him pathetic, that she thought if only he was stronger they wouldn’t have this problem, this inconvenience. This was the only thing he was good for. If he could turn his powers into a tool for them then it proved there was still something human in him, right? Basira was helping him hold onto it, that’s why she asked this of him, because it was helping. From a folder under her arm she pulled a mugshot, sliding it across the desk. Jon didn’t look. He didn’t have to.

“Where is he?” He tried to resist, like she was the one who held the power of compulsion and not him, but he wanted to help. More than anything, he wanted to help fix what he’d done. The headache behind his eyes worsened when the Eye opened, demanding payment he didn’t have to give and dredging up what he needed to Know like drawing water from a depthless well. Static rose in a tide, angry, loud, greedy and he didn’t, there wasn’t enough left, like wringing blood from a stone.

Feed your god, or your god will feed on you.

Basira’s lead pooled on his tongue and fell from his lips and it tasted like ash and ink as the static finally overwhelmed him, rising in a wave, deafening, roaring, punishing him for daring to demand Knowledge for free.

Later. Minutes. Days. Weeks. Years later Jon woke to the rasp of a statement slipping under his door and he descended on it like a vulture, ugly and clawing, weeping with this taste of relief, no matter how small. He read it again and again, the metaphysical equivalent of licking his plate clean and when the static faded and the green was gone from his eyes, Jon jerked back to awareness with a sharp gasp, nauseated with dread realization. Curling up right where he was, Jon covered his face in both hands, stifling his noise and hiding his tears even though no one was left but him.

Hollow in his very bones, like a bird, Jon wished more than anything to fly away from this prison, to somewhere, anywhere, that did not hurt. He wandered familiar halls as an apparition of hunger, subsisting on sips of air and the dust of infinite statements and it felt like punishment. To be kept alive by the Beholding even as it killed him letter by word by sentence by paragraph by--

The tea kettle. Cold. Like him. Frozen and shivering and missing so badly his heart throbbed painfully in his narrow chest. Jon ended up here more often than he wanted to admit. It was a comfort. Security. The last remnant of someone who tolerated him, proof someone had once known him enough to care for him.

Someone else he’d thrown away.

Despite their strained relationship, he was so thankful he still had Basira, that she hadn’t left him in this place alone, even though he knew she couldn’t leave because of him. But he’d always been selfish; there was no reason would that change now. But he could make it up to her. If he was good, if he was helpful, she would reward him and that was more kindness than he deserved. Because he wasn’t supposed to have statements anymore. He was beating this “addiction” she called it. If he could be strong, she wouldn’t have to keep them under lock and key and she knew he wasn’t. He was lucky she was there to do this for him. To protect him when everyone else had gone.

On the days where he couldn’t make it to the tea kettle, Jon lay as still as possible in his office, the migraine caused by demands he didn’t have the resources to spend and spent anyway so bad it took up all the space he had left for worrying about other things. On those days, the hunger was almost quiet, body too full of aches for any one part of him to direct his attention.

Then he lost his ribs. No. Not lost. He had one. Gave the other away. For Daisy. For Basira and he walked into the earth with every intention of rescuing a very important person. The Buried, the Choke, took all the hungry away and replaced it with fear and when he found Daisy and hooked their fingers together in the damp filth of this place, this eternal coffin unending, he never let go.

And still he failed her.

Until he was saved by the familiar hum and hiss of the tape recorders burrowed into his ears and refused to be ignored and they walked out.

Mostly whole.

Daisy. His salvation. His chance to prove he could still be good, passed triumphantly into Basira’s waiting arms. Despite himself, Jon knew he was beaming as much as he still could, hoping for a morsel of praise, the yearning for it almost as debilitating as the emptiness inside him. There was nothing, as he knew there would be, as Basira whisked Daisy away for medical attention and assessment which of course, was a much higher priority than soothing the ego of a monster. The room reeked of the Lonely, made his skin itch and his blood burn because he recognized a familiarity, had laid unconscious claim to it as an assistant. He was the Archivist. It was his job to protect his assistants and though he’d done a piss poor job of it thus far, it didn’t stop him from wanting to unleash his latent power on such a brazen entity that dared touch what was his. He would very much enjoy taking it apart when the time came.

Shaking his head to clear it of these new and aggressive thoughts, Jon stumbled away to clean up, ready to retreat into his sanctuary and rest for a little while until he could be useful again.

It was no longer the kettle he visited. It was the door.

Locked.

Barred.

Basira had forgotten him in favor of Daisy. Of course, she needed her. And didn’t need him for leads and without that slim hope he might get a statement out of it, he found himself going a bit mad with hunger. He Knew where they were in the building, none of them could leave it for long, and the last ounces of his dwindling control were funneled into stopping himself begging for her help.

Basira didn’t, she wouldn’t like that.

Calm. Quiet. Useful. Out of the way. He could be those things. She liked those things.

Jon couldn’t leave the door. Not now when the proximity quelled the myriad whispers overlapping in his mind like a thousand trains of thought. If he listened hard enough, curled up close enough, he could hear them tucked away in their folders and envelopes nestled in boxes, rows of boxes, so many boxes he could eat and eat until, until maybe--

“What are you doing?” With sore, heavy eyes Jon looked up into Basira’s harsh and unforgiving stare and wished for a glimpse of understanding or kindness. “What have you done to your hands?” His hands? It wasn’t him examining his torn up fingers, skin slowly knitting back together, it wasn’t him feeling the twinges of splinters dug in under his broken nails or noticing the smears of red, ruby, rust blood adorning the door like an animal tried to claw their way out. But it was him. Wasn’t it? Trying to claw his way in.

And he didn’t remember doing it.

“I...I, I d’d’dunno.”

“You “dunno?”” She didn’t believe him. And why would she when all he’d done is lie. Like a cat, he was lifted by the bunched up collar at the back of his neck, pushed, stumbling, down the corridors and held at arm's length. Even so, the warmth from her hand, the electric shock her touch sent racing down his spine was heady and distracting. He hadn’t been touched in so long and far too soon it was over as she shoved him into his chair in his office in his wing in his cage of his own making before backing away and locking the door behind her.

Quiet, quiet, quiet.

If he was quiet she would let him out. He just needed to be patient. That’s all. He was selfish, taking time away from Daisy when she needed it most. Basira did the right thing, protected him from himself. He was lucky to have someone who cared like that, to make the hardest decisions for him and so sorry that he kept causing her problems.

He curled beneath his desk, the small space comforting and contained, keeping all his pieces together as he lost hold of them one by one. So tired, so sick, he tried to sleep and it just wouldn’t come where he was huddled around the aching empty abyss in his body. It was all he could think about, a statement, just one. Please. Anything, a taste. Pacing like a caged tiger when he had a rare burst of frenetic energy, laying on the floor of his office when he collapsed, tugging listlessly at the handle of the door. Crying, crying, crying in his hiding spot but always silent. It wouldn’t do to be heard. Unseen and not heard. That was the best way. And then she would let him out.

She always let him out.

[immortalcoelacanth]

Conductor x Oblivious!Reader Oneshot: Is it Still Called a Ship if it Involves a Train?

My muse is all over the place and I have tons of ideas, my mind cannot contain them all and I don’t know how I wrote this. Also as a heads up I’ve been thinking about backing up my other reader oneshots on Tumblr on AO3 just in case something happens, so if you see them there don’t be surprised. 

Wordcount: 2791

Summary: The Conductor loved his train and wanted it in peak condition, that was why he visited the repair shop so much, and of course you were always the technician who checked everything, you specialized in trains after all! It only made sense!

Now, what didn’t make sense was how oblivious you were to his feelings. 

“The Conductor’s back?! Again?! I thought we just checked out the train last week! Everything was fine!” 

“Maybe he blew some of it up again? Like in that one movie?”

“I doubt it! He’s just train crazy!”

You let out a chuckle at the banter between your coworkers as you clicked away your computer, scanning through the active tickets and what needed to be done after. You worked in a repair shop for all sorts of vehicles. Most of the customers had cars that needed to be checked out, but some had more unusual modes of transportation. 

Like the Conductor and his train. 

He was one of the more… interesting customers you had interacted with. He was loud, very loud, and self-centered. 

Not that he was ever rude to any of your coworkers, or your boss, but you assumed this was because you were the ones responsible for keeping his train in tip top shape. 

Granted, the pool of people responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of his train had slowly dwindled until you were practically the only one checking it out. This was mainly due to the fact that you were the one on site who was the most knowledgeable about trains, they had been your passion since you were a child, and… 

Well, for some reason the Conductor always wanted you to be the one doing the work. 

You assumed this was for consistency’s sake, and the fact that it would make it far easier for him to get to know you as it was generally a good idea for a mechanic and their long term customer to have a good relationship, but he was surprisingly insistent about it even if there were long wait times. 

Fortunately he was never rude to your coworkers while he waited, nor did he insist on rushing anything. He just waited patiently for his turn and occasionally spoke to some other customers about his movies, being surprisingly polite when one of them mentioned not having seen them. 

Which was very out of character according to some of your coworkers, and speaking of them-

“Hey! You got Conductor’s ticket again?” The coworker nearest to you asked, their overalls stained with oil and grime, as were their feathers. “Since he’s just gonna bug us until we ask you to…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover it!” You quickly nodded while walking over to them. “Do you know what he’s coming in about?” “I dunno, something about his train sounding weird earlier.” They shrugged. “According to the boss he didn’t sound super worried or anything, but he insisted on coming in later today.”

“CAW!” You both jumped at the sudden noise and spun around, facing the newest arrival of the slowly forming group. Towering above the both of you was yet another coworker.

Or, perhaps croworker would be a more accurate title to call her by. 

She crossed her wings and glared down at you. “Are you the reason why he’s back, again?! I thought you fixed everything the last time he was here!”

“I did!” You insisted, taking a step back and raising your hands defensively. “Everything was fine when he left, and I didn’t see any problems other than cosmetic damage in the first place!”

The occasional bump and scrap was much better than the broken up and busted train that had been brought in one day, the Conductor sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he briefly mentioned something about a filming incident. 

You had cried true, honest tears upon seeing all that damage. That poor, poor train. 

The Crow stared at you for a moment longer before leaning down and asking a rather strange question. “Did you say yes or no then?”

“... To what?” You countered, extremely confused. Your confusion grew when she threw her wings up into the air and stomped off, yelling something about dense bird brains.

“I wonder what’s up with her?” Your other coworker mused, and you offered them a weak shrug before getting back to work. 

Hours passed and eventually the train engine belonging to the Conductor appeared in the front of the shop. Already, you could hear the mumblings and grumbling of the train being immaculate, and it was fine before, followed by a why is he here?

Even your boss seemed to be a bit annoyed at the Conductor’s insistence on getting the train looked over, and probably would have scolded the bird if it were not for how much money the shop made off of him. 

It was a lot of money. 

You were snapped out of your musings when you heard that accented voice grow louder, indicating that he was getting closer. You quickly dusted off your overalls, smiled that signature, customer service smile, and made your way towards the source of the shop’s annoyance. 

And then there he was. 

The Conductor. 

There was no mistaking his short stature and the brightness of his feathers. Although, something that was quite unusual was the bag he was carrying with him, the plastic giving away nothing about what item might be contained inside. He was looking around the shop, trying to find something from the look of it, but the moment his gaze landed on you-

“There yer are!” He called out, waving eagerly as he practically ran over to see you. You instinctively smiled and waved back. 

It was good to be polite to customers, especially someone who spent as much money as the Conductor, but you also enjoyed your talks with him. Watching him ramble about his train and his experiences driving it were always fun, and you had learned that he was a magnificent storyteller. 

You missed the way one of your coworkers elbowed the other while quietly whispering something to get, getting a laugh out of the one they had spoken to. 

“Hello, Conductor!” You cheerfully greeted, smile immediately growing more genuine at the thought of being able to chat with him once again. “So, what’s going on with the train?”

“Well, erm… me train started soundin’ a bit… off.” He explained, sounding strangely nervous as he discussed what the problem was. “Can yer check the engine?”

“So you think the sounds were coming from the engine? Not the wheels?” You pressed, leaning forward as your eyes narrowed in concern. “Did you do anything to the train? Any… intense activities?”

Did you blow up your train again?

“N-Nae!” He quickly objected, quickly shaking his head. “Nothin’ like that! Just strange sounds. Can... can yer help?”

“I can take a look and tell you what I find.” You said, getting a toothy grin out of the Conductor. 

“Yer an angel.” The bird sighed, sounding quite relieved at your offer. “If yer’d like ta know more-”

“Of course I would!” You immediately replied as you made your way over to the train. “You and I need to have a long chat about what you’re worried about, and I’ll keep you updated on the status of the train. I’m assuming you’ll be waiting here?”

“Aye!” The Conductor was quick to nod, secretly happy to be able to spend more time with you.

You were definitely the best part about visiting this shop. Your personality was so bubbly and warm, but you also were not afraid to put rude customers in their place as he had seen you do on multiple occasions. You were smart and confident, yet you were also very humble and compassionate. 

Far more compassionate than he was, and he knew this. He knew how rude he could be at times, the Receptionist had scolded him on multiple occasions about his behavior, but… 

Every reason that caused him to act the way he did, his inner insecurities and worries and fears that bubbled up and filled his mind to the brim with their screaming seemed to fade whenever he was around you. 

You and your questions about his movies and his train, about the stories that he had memorized to tell his grandchildren over and over again. He knew he would get mocked if he ever voiced such feelings, so he always kept them hidden and to himself. 

Although, his feelings were not quite as hidden as he had hoped for since it seemed as though most of the workers in the repair shop had figured out why he was so insistent on you being the one to look over his train. That, and the smug looks some of them sent his way.

Especially that one Crow…

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he noticed you making your way over to the train, and he quickly rushed over to join you, the bag on his arm swaying. That’s right, he still needed to give you that, too. 

But first, train inspection. 

Together, you both climbed up the side of the train, with you taking a moment to make sure the Conductor was still following you, before making your way inside. You were unable to stop the impressed noise from escaping you as you took in the interior of the train engine, all the high tech glowing buttons and levers covering the main console. It was so easy to imagine how amazing it must feel to drive this train, the sheer amount of power and speed.

It left you breathless. 

… But, the interior was as spotless as it had been the last time you had seen it. Granted, you had not thoroughly checked anything yet, but the sheer amount of light reflecting off of the metallic surfaces, and the general lack of dirt and grime led you to believe that the problem was not here. 

And your hypothesis was proven soon enough as, after spending nearly an hour looking over all the intricate mechanisms, and chatting with the Conductor, you did not find anything that was damaged or showed signs of potentially causing problems. 

You let out a concerned hum and looked at the Conductor, not really registering how some of his feathers took on a more reddish hue, nor how he seemed to anxiously mess with his suit. Without a word, you made your way out of the train and moved to inspect the massive wheels, assuming that the problem might be there.

Nope.

Nada.

Nothing.

“There… there isn’t anything I can see wrong.” You slowly concluded as you backed away from the train. “No breaks, no other forms of damage, no malfunctioning parts, nothing.”

“Aye? Erm, well, perhaps yer should take yer time? Try not to rush and give yerself a break-” The Conductor rambled as you practically glared at the train, as if trying to force it to give up all its secrets. 

Where, where could that problem be?

You crossed your arms as you contemplated how to best solve this problem. The engine was… fine. Nothing seemed to be out of place or broken, nor were there any leaks or other signs of potential sources of problems. It was downright immaculate, what you had come to expect from the Conductor, but you knew you would not rest until you figured out what the problem was. 

It was a source of pride for you, how thorough your work was, and it helped that your boss rewarded you for your efforts. Not knowing whether the train was actually fine or not would… nag at you. 

Immensely. 

Although, given the fact that the train was stationary and the Conductor claimed to have heard those strange noises when he had been driving it, it was possible that the problem would not show itself unless the train was moving. Something that might be caused by stress, or even a poorly connected section of the tracks. 

You clapped your hands together as you came up with an idea. Yes! That would work perfectly! Excitement filling you at the prospect of your plan, you turned to the Conductor and spoke. 

“Can you give me a ride?”

The reactions to your question were… varied, to say the least. 

You heard one of your coworkers break down laughing hard enough to the point where they started coughing, you heard what sounded like someone facepalming hard enough to leave a mark, and as for the Conductor-

He squawked, loudly. 

The feathers on his face took on a more reddish hue, especially around his cheeks and forehead, and his maw hung open in what you assumed to be surprise. The feathers on the side of his head also seemed to have fluffed up at some point. It made him look…

Cute. 

“I might be able to find the problem if I’m with you when the train is moving.” You explained, watching as the red flush faded from the Conductor’s feathers. “So, would it be okay if I joined you on your next train ride?”

“Erm-course!” The Conductor quickly replied, still strangely flustered. “When… when should I pick yer up, then?”

“Hmm…” 

Obviously you needed to conform to his schedule since you had a feeling his days were pretty busy between running his train and filming movies, plus you were certain you could haggle your boss into covering how many hours you were there for.

“How about I spend the day with you?” You suggested. “That way I have plenty of time to check out the train without interrupting your schedule. Does that sound good?”

“Yer… yer be wantin’ ta spend the whole day…?” The feathers around the Conductor’s face started taking on that reddish hue once again. “From sunrise ta sunset?” 

“For as long as you’ll have me!” You answered with a nod. “And you can tell me to leave if I start bothering you.”

“Nae! Nae! That won’t be a problem!” The Conductor quickly objected as he flailed his feathery hands. “Yer can spend as long as yer want on… me train-”

Wow, I wonder why his voice cracked like that…

“Alright, it’s a date, then!” Once again you were oblivious to how his face flushed as he replied with his own, eager nod. Instead all you could think of was how wonderful it would be to ride a train across the tracks, see the sights and feel that wonderful breeze. 

“Ah, and I got yer somethin’ as thanks fer keepin’ me train in top shape.” The Conductor added as he reached into the plastic bag from earlier and pulled out a small cactus. 

“I remember yer mentionin’ that yer liked deserts, so-” He started to explain before he was cut off by you quickly picking up the cactus to inspect it. 

“I love it, and that’s so sweet!” The cactus was so tiny and round and just… looked adorable! You smiled brightly at the Conductor and instinctively reached out to hug him. “Thank you!” 

His suit felt surprisingly soft and warm as you wrapped an arm around him for the hug, careful to keep the cactus away so neither of you got accidentally pricked. His feathers were pretty soft, too, and you just barely managed to restrain yourself from impulsively running a hand through them. 

“Yer… yer welcome.” He mumbled, still blushing furiously. 

“I need to find somewhere safe to put this so it doesn’t break. Oh! I also need to find a good spot to put it when I get home, or maybe I can keep it here and it can be our little mascot!” You rambled as you made your way over to the staff room, too distracted to remember to say goodbye to the flustered bird. 

The Conductor just stood there, maw open in surprise at the fact that you had hugged him.

Oh god, you hugged him. You actually hugged him. 

He was dazed, stunned, and frozen on the spot as the memory of you hugging him replayed itself over and over in his mind. How warm you were, how bright your smile was. 

It was nice to see you smile, see you so cheerful and happy. 

He wanted to see that smile again. 

As the Conductor stood in place, too surprised to move, the operations of the repair shop slowly resumed. Technicians and mechanics got back to their assigned vehicles, and even the music that had been quietly playing in the background increased in volume. Of course, this also meant that conversations resumed, including ones focused on the interaction that had just taken place. 

“So,” The Crow began, leaning down towards one of her coworkers and whispering to them. “Are we shipping them, or do we call it something else since there’s a train?”

The resulting laughter could easily be heard by you in the staff room, leaving you confused as to what they were laughing at, and somewhat concerned as to what might have happened. 

Oh well, you had to get ready for your date tomorrow with the Conductor anyways.                                     xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Maybe I'll write a follow up to this, maybe not~

I hope you all enjoyed reading!

- ImmortalCoelacanth

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 2 of 26

Title: Authority (The Southern Reach #2) (2014) - REREAD

Author: Jeff VanderMeer

Genre/Tags: Horror, Science Fiction, Ecological Horror, Cosmic Horror, Mystery, Weird, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 1/05/2021

Date Finished: 1/10/2021

John "Control" Rodriguez, a disgraced former spy, is given an opportunity to redeem himself at the Southern Reach, the clandestine organization that oversees the mysterious and horrifying Area X. The director has gone missing following the disastrous "twelfth" expedition in Annihilation. Control is brought in to take over her job and fix the Southern Reach... and perhaps find a way to combat the insidious, paranormal effects of Area X.

But Control soon discovers just how deep Area X's corruption infects the place. Even worse, failures of the past-- both his own and those of the Southern Reach-- return to haunt him in disturbing ways. Badly outmatched within and without, Control will need to do everything he can to save not only the organization, but himself.

The last fragment of video remained in its own category: "Unassigned." Everyone was dead by then, except for an injured Lowry, already halfway back to the border.

Yet for a good twenty seconds the camera flew above the glimmering marsh reeds, the deep blue lakes, the ragged white cusp of the sea, toward the lighthouse.

Dipped and rose, fell again and soared again.

With what seemed like a horrifying enthusiasm.

An all-consuming joy.  

Full review, some spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: some body horror but way toned down compared to Annihilation. Mind control/hypnotic suggestion is still a thing. Non graphic sexual content. Disturbing images. Without spoiling the entire book, there are several scenes that come off as gaslighting, but do have an alternate explanation. As before, a pervasive sense of unreality.  

While Annihilation is a deep dive into the horrors of Area X, Authority takes a step back. It examines the situation from the perspective of the Southern Reach, the organization that oversees the expeditions we got to know so intimately in the last book. Control is a newcomer, so he functions as a natural outsider perspective. However, he's far from naïve due to his past experience in what I have to assume is the CIA (just called "Central" in the book). It's clear from the get-go that the Southern Reach is falling apart with its ancient buildings, circular and helpless theories, dwindling funding, and bizarre office politics. While Annihilation frames the Southern Reach as shady and possibly complicit in Area X's existence, Authority demonstrates the government would be predictably bad at handling an unknowable cosmic horror zone over any length of time.

Though I noted in my Annihilation review that most of the mystery surrounding Area X remains just that, Authority casually drops two major revelations in the first few chapters. First is... it's definitely aliens, right? Like, that's the only explanation that tracks-- why everything about the place is anathema to humanity, why it's impossible for characters to fully understand it, why mimicry is such a major aspect, etc. If you didn't suspect this already, it explains a lot. In particular, the "colonization" terminology and imagery in Annihilation hits different in that context. I have a lot of feelings about how this series approaches the extraterrestrial, but I'll save that for my Acceptance review.

The second reveal is that Control is taking over for the former director of the Southern Reach, who is MIA following Annihilation's "twelfth" expedition. Who is the director? The psychologist-- the pseudo antagonist of the last book, who we know got Super Killed Off. Turns out she's important and probably not actually evil? The biologist is also inexplicably back, but something is off about her, and she insists on being called Ghost Bird now. Did the biologist truly return (counter to the ending of the last book) or is this one of the shells Area X sometimes spits back out into the real world? If she's the latter, Ghost Bird seems to have much more personality and self awareness than the others. It is interesting to consider an entity of Area X would willingly name herself.

So, Authority is a weird book. The horror element is still present, but toned down. Instead, there's a lot of focus on the new character Control, his past, and the workings of the Southern Reach. In some ways this is refreshing. Annihilation (and the finale Acceptance) are so deeply entwined with Area X it's hard to see what "normal" looks like, and Authority brings that perspective. Relatively speaking. Second, and this is a spoiler, much of that normalcy is a facade. Control is basically mind controlled (heh) by a faction in Central, and is unaware of it for most of the book. It comes across in little ways, like the anachronistic storytelling and Control's confusion/disorientation at times.

We also learn that Area X doesn't just contaminate things inside it, but things outside it as well... and it's been doing this for some time. As a result, there's always a sense of Area X lurking in the periphery, manifesting in strange and unexpected ways. Something I like is the background chatter Control overhears being lines from Annihilation, which he isn't aware of, but the reader sure is.

I've read this book a few times, and while there are things I really like about it, it's probably my least favorite of the trilogy. I think the slower pacing and different narrative approach have merits, but just aren't as interesting to me as the rest of the series. It's noteworthy that my favorite bits in Authority are the disturbing video of the first expedition and the sudden End of Evangelion-esque return of Area X near the end-- not the espionage and philosophical tangents that comprise most of the book.  There are several ideas that seem interesting but don't go anywhere, and those feel like a waste of space. I think Authority could be pared down to half its page count and still get across the same feelings and general concept.

Control is also not the most interesting protagonist, especially compared to previous and later characters. He's not terrible, but he spends most of his time just thinking in circles and observing mundane office politics. While this is fine at first it starts to drag as the story goes on. As I said, a lot of tangents go nowhere, and there's not much going on beyond those until well over halfway into the book. Control does have a hidden tragic backstory, and it's interesting enough, but it barely factors into the overarching Area X storyline outside some symbolic comparisons. He feels out of place, perhaps intentionally.

I do like the dry humor and observations Control brings and how they contrast with the intense tone of Annihilation. I can also see the appeal of having a more ordinary character, if only to bring context to the extraordinary. But the problem is Control isn't ordinary. He's the youngest member of a dynasty of professional spies! Yet somehow I just don't find him exciting compared to an antisocial biologist. I dunno. Ultimately Control is a pawn in the story, used and manipulated by other people, and (spoilers) this doesn't change in Acceptance.

I had similar dilemmas with VanderMeer's Ambergris books, particularly book two, so perhaps it's a fact about his writing. When it's good it's GOOD, but sometimes the things I like get lost in rambling narrative fluff. The question is whether getting through the less interesting parts is worth it for the really good parts. With The Southern Reach trilogy, I'd argue the latter. I have no issues with the style or pacing in Annihilation or Acceptance, and the overarching story is fascinating.

I've mentioned many times before that I usually struggle with book twos in trilogies, and this one isn't an exception. However, I do appreciate what Authority is going for on a meta and lore level when viewing the series as a whole. It does establish a lot of things that either explain earlier stuff or pay off later; it just takes a while to get to them. The context of everything else bumps this to an 8.   

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and POV surveys

- Inspo tag

- Playlist

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

              “You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.” 

                        - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

+

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.  

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

+

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

+

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

+

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.  

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

+

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

A Pirate in Gentleman’s Clothing

Summary: Harry is pining over his captain, and is desperate to find a way to get her to feel the same as him. So he visits two of the most unlikely people to help him to get Uma's attention. Harry Hook x Uma or Huma fluff.

  “Hey, Cap’n?”

  “Hmm?”

  “‘Ave ye e’er considered slowin’ down and I dunno… datin’ someone?” Harry questioned, simultaneously trying to avoid his true question and find out a definitive answer to what he had left unasked.

  Uma and Harry were currently lounged on the couch, the television playing as they both watched it absently. He was laying down on the couch, and his head was resting nearby her thigh and she had her arm nearest to him propped up on the back of the sofa and her other arm resting on the arm of the couch.

  Harry was currently working at the very subtle business of figuring out if Uma had any romantic feelings for him. With every day that they spent together, he could feel his love--- like? He wasn’t sure anymore--- growing. Either way, he wanted her to at least feel a fraction of what he experienced.

  It had been weeks since he had reunited with his captain, and he had felt a definitive difference in how they interacted. She had instigated infinitely more contact with him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had felt the shift as well. She was too comfortable with him to not have.

  Of course, his captain was confusing. There were no definite answers with her, and he could never be certain of anything where she was concerned.

  At his question, Uma furrowed her brow, looking down into his light green-blue eyes as she considered the inquiry.

  “Not really,” Uma told him. Harry nodded, relieved that there was no other guy on her mind but also disappointed that she didn’t seem to be interested in him in that way at all.

  “What? You considering settling down or something?” Uma questioned suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as she turned the question against him. Harry raised his eyebrows before offering her a smirk.

  “Me? Nah, ‘course not. What’d give ye that idea?” Harry asked, and Uma shrugged, grinning at the boy as she raised an eyebrow in interest.

  “Nothing. Just a strange thing to ask somebody out of the blue,” Uma told him nonchalantly, and Harry resisted the urge to huff out of his nose.

  Uma let her arm slide down the couch and thread into his hair, ruffling it a little as she playfully teased him. Harry internally felt his heart swell at the contact, and he couldn’t help the satisfied grin that stayed on his face as she allowed her hand to rest there unmoving.

  “Y’know, you’re a great first mate,” Uma complimented, and his grin dwindled slightly as he was brought back to the low of the friendzone. He tried to muster a slight smile, but all he could feel was immense disappointment.

  “A first mate’s only as good as his cap’n,” Harry returned, and Uma’s lips curled in a grin as he looked up at her. She returned to watching the television quietly, and Harry felt his heart fall to his feet as she continued just as they had been before.

  He was in the friendzone, and he positively ached for her to see him at least somewhat how he saw her.

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       “So, what’s it like to be in love with someone?” Harry questioned as he found himself alone in a room with Ben one day, gathering paperwork that Uma had asked for in her new position as the Captain of the Guard.

  Ben stopped everything he was doing, his lips curling in a dopey grin as he sighed.

  “Ah, Harry, I don’t know how to tell you,” Ben spoke, shaking his head as he scratched the back of his neck.

  “That wonderful, eh, Kingy?” Harry asked somewhat awkwardly, not really knowing what to say, but knowing exactly who he was thinking of right then.

  “Yeah,” Ben laughed slightly, his eyes lit up in that happy lovestruck puppy sort of expression.

  “It’s like… the best feeling ever. The girl… Well, she always has your back through everything, and she’s just the most beautiful person ever,” Ben spoke, clearly talking about Mal, but Harry allowed himself to imagine Uma in that statement. He smiled a bit, allowing himself to truly consider his feelings for Uma.

  “She makes you laugh, she makes you want to kiss her, she’s amazing,” Ben gushed, and Harry’s grin grew as he thought of all the times that Uma had made him laugh. He thought of all the astronomical amount of times that he had wanted to take her in his arms, gently cradle her face in his hands, and tenderly pepper her face in kisses with all of the reverence that she deserved.

  “You want to hold her tightly and tell her how much she means to you every moment of the day,” Ben told him, obviously still stuck in his mind with his girl, but Harry was much too far gone in his thoughts of Uma. He wanted to take her hand and kiss it repeatedly, mumbling against her skin just how much she meant to him and what he would do for her.

  “It’s a great feeling, Harry,” Ben finished, and Harry slowly came out of his thoughts, realizing that Ben was done answering him. Harry just gazed at the young King blankly.

  “Why do you ask?” Ben questioned curiously, tilting his head, and Harry shook his head, his thoughts still haunting him as he almost couldn’t think of any response. His mind was too taken with thoughts of kissing his captain.

  “No reason. Jus’ curious,” Harry informed him, and Ben easily took the answer, picking up his phone to most assuredly text Mal.

  And Harry was now in even worse of a boat than he was before.

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       “Honestly, you two are like a married couple,” Mal suddenly proclaimed.

  Uma had been in the middle of scolding Harry for something he had done earlier, and she had just happened to be talking in front of Mal and Evie. For what reason she was fussing at him, he couldn’t quite seem to remember at this point. He was still too stuck on the being married part.

  He looked at Uma, and he noticed that she stopped as well to stare at Mal. She glanced at him before looking back at Mal quickly. Harry felt his heart skip a beat at her very gaze, despite how momentary it was.

  “You don’t know anything. Stay out of this,” Uma pointed at the faerie, and Harry watched her lips as she spoke. What he would give to kiss those beautiful lips. They were a blessing and a curse, and the only thing that defined the two was the tone of voice spilling from between them.

  “I’m just saying!” Mal raised her hands in a placating gesture as she shared a knowing glance with Evie. Harry couldn’t help but wish their knowing glances would actually become a reality, but even he knew that was just a wish that would never happen.

  “You fight like one, that’s for sure,” Evie added unhelpfully as she grinned at Harry and Uma.

  “He is my first mate. And a best friend on a good day,” Uma informed the purple-haired girl firmly as she moved her accusing finger between the bluenette and Mal. Evie and Mal both just giggled sneakily, whispering as they no doubt discussed whatever they saw between Harry and Uma.

  Whatever they were whispering, Harry knew he wanted it to actually happen. How he would love to take Uma in his arms and proclaim to the world that she was his and his alone. Nothing would please him more.

  Uma groaned, breathing out of her nose heavily in her frustration with the two gossiping girls, and Harry watched her carefully.

  She caught his gaze, and she raised an eyebrow.

  “What are you looking at? You wanna go over there and gossip, too?” Uma questioned, somewhere between irritated with Mal and irritated with Harry.

  Harry immediately flushed, profusely attempting to diffuse Uma’s anger as he tried to explain himself.

  “Nay, nay, I was jus’ waitin’ on ye to start fussin’ at me again!” Harry defensively cried, and Uma furrowed her brow at him before launching back into whatever her problem was again.

  And Harry still hadn’t managed to get through to her just how much he’d love them to be a couple.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

     Harry walked down a hallway in Mal’s castle, sighing deeply as he ran his fingers through his somewhat messy hair.

  This was truly the bottom of the barrel, but Harry was desperate. His only chance, his sole opportunity to get his captain’s attention and perhaps make her see him as anything but one of the guys.

  He straightened his hanging red coat, fingering the familiar wornness on its edges as he stopped in front of a door. He furrowed his brow, closing his eyes tightly before reopening them.

  Harry so dreaded this. He knew he’d likely be declined, and he honestly didn’t know what he was hoping for, maybe a miracle? But he had to try. It was all he knew to do. He had to get her attention. Just for a moment, so that maybe he could get her to feel just a tiny increment of what he experienced every waking moment.

  He raised a closed fist tentatively, hesitating as he resisted the urge to just leave and pretend that he had never come begging on her doorstep for help.

  But what did he have to lose? His dignity, maybe, and perhaps his sense of self-sufficiency, but it would all be worth it if it worked.

  The Hook boy finally pushed through his doubts and dread and took the plunge, allowing his knuckles to rap on the door.

  She opened the door, and he noticed that she had a visitor, which was just as well because he was quite honestly looking for both of them.

  They just gaped at him in complete shock, sharing a glance as they stared at him. He almost wanted to roll his eyes at their ridiculousness, but he couldn’t say he blamed them. It wasn’t every day that Harry Hook showed up on someone’s doorstep as desperate looking as he undoubtedly appeared today.

  He took in a breath to speak, knowing that he needed to say something to get this over with more quickly. There was no reason in prolonging the inevitable.

  “Alright, so Imma wee bit embarrassed ta be askin’ ye both fer help. However, I figured at this point, I likely needed it,” Harry started, standing in the doorway as he addressed two people before him.

  “I never thought I’d be askin’ the two o’ ye of all people, but I’m not too proud to do so,” Harry told them, toying with his hook as he tried to keep his strong sense of humiliation at bay.

  “I need help turning me into something that Uma might actually… I dunno, pay closer attention to?” The pitch of Harry’s voice heightened at the end, unsure of itself as he tread a path that his normally so proud self did not take very often.

  “Would you two do that?” Harry asked, raising his gaze from his hook.

  Evie and Dizzy looked at each other, raising an eyebrow at one another as they glanced between Harry and each other. Harry offered them a slight smile, worried that they wouldn’t accept but not really expecting them to either. After all, he hadn’t ever been very nice to Dizzy during their time on the Isle, and Evie was awfully protective of the kid. Of course, Evie was protective of any kid.

  Evie and Dizzy shared a nod before returning their eyes to Harry. He swallowed, inevitably a bit nervous as he watched them and attempted to gain something from their gazes. They were both unreadable, and it quite honestly scared the pirate.

  “We might could arrange something,” Evie told him, looking at Dizzy as she made sure that was alright with the little girl.

  Dizzy smiled widely before returning to her previous, more serious expression.

  Harry grinned at them both, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he found himself quite thankful. Maybe now he could finally get the sort of noticing that he wanted from Uma that was not just as a best friend or a first mate.

  However, his relieved feelings were about to come to an end.

  Evie immediately ran for her long strand of tailor’s tape, and Dizzy grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down to her level as she examined his head

  “Okay. These bangs? They’re getting evened out and slicked around. I’m thinking dapper,” Dizzy spoke, and Evie nodded her head at Dizzy.

  Evie came back to the both of them, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder and making him stand up straight from his bent position. He raised an eyebrow uncertainly as Evie reached her hands inside of his coat and around his waist--- obviously knowing no personal boundaries, but he really didn’t care--- and she measured his torso.

  She slipped her arms out from around him, and she grabbed his coat, siding it off of his shoulders as she measured his shoulders carefully. Her face was close to his, and he looked at her with some bewilderment. She felt his gaze and her eyes flit up to his for a moment as she offered him a slight flash of teeth in a smile before pursing her lips again in concentration.

  Harry looked over her head at the Tremaine girl, and his eyes widened as Dizzy started to get out her giant scissors. Harry swallowed, his eyes going absurdly wide as he seriously contemplated running.

  But there was no escape now. He had asked for a makeover. And a makeover he would get.

  He’d get Uma’s attention one way or another.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      “Okay, take a look,” Evie spoke, and he looked into the tall mirror before him. He wasn’t entirely sure who was looking back at him, though.

  It was a tall, dignified fellow--- minus the hook held in his hand, of course--- and his hair was poofy but controlled, a curl coming down in a wave as a large bang. He was clad in a nice, deep-red coat that touched the back of his mid-thigh area, and there was a nice black vest underneath it with a white undershirt. His pants were black, and they draped over his deep-red leather shoes nicely.

  He gaped at the man in the mirror before him, and he slightly smiled, realizing that it had to be him. Evie’s face lit up in a huge smile as she leaned her arm on his shoulder, examining him in the mirror. Dizzy walked up to his other side, hopping up and down in her excitement about his makeover.

  “Wow, you look absolutely-”

  “Stunningly amazingly handsome,” Evie finished with a grin as she looked over at the pirate. He chuckled at her and swallowed hard, staring at himself in the mirror. This would definitely get Uma’s attention. He just wasn’t quite sure in what way.

  “Yeah!” Dizzy agreed emphatically, her girlish enthusiasm bleeding through. Evie smiled at them both significantly more maturely.

  “Harry Hook, you have been remade. If Uma doesn’t pay attention to you now, well… Just come visit me,” Evie flirted, winking at him, and he laughed at her, knowing that she was very much kidding but also that she had the lightest twinges of seriousness laced in her statement.

  “Thank ye. Ye didn’t ‘ave to do that. And much less the gorgeous job that ye did,” Harry told them sincerely and Dizzy puffed up with the praise. Evie’s grin just got bigger as she took in the compliment as humbly as she could.

  “I can repay ye-”

  “No,” Evie firmly interrupted him, and he blinked. “Friends don’t pay friends.”

  “Besides, we’re eager to see the Huma ship sail,” Evie added with a grin, and Dizzy nodded excitedly. Harry snorted at the both of them and nodded resolutely, straightening his coat and checking his teeth carefully in the mirror.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be goin’ to find me cap’n,” Harry informed them with a smile, and Evie squeezed his shoulder, letting her hand slide down his back.

  And off Harry went, hoping to change his friendzoned status.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      Harry slipped through the doorway of Uma, his, and Gil’s apartment in Ben and Mal’s castle, and he spotted her pacing around, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked somewhere between worried and angry. He let out a soft sigh as he sat his hook on the nearby end table.

  “Ahoy?” Harry greeted gently, and Uma immediately froze as she closed her eyes, chuckling under her breath disbelievingly.

  “Ahoy? Ahoy?! You leave for hours on end, not telling anyone where you went, and you just come strolling in going ‘Ahoy?’ Well, I’ve got news for you, Hook,” Uma announced, turning toward him so that she could fuss at him more effectively.

  Uma immediately froze, her eyes wide and her jaw slack as she took in his appearance.

  Her eyes glazed over a bit as she looked him up and down, and Harry just stood there as if he was frozen, attempting to gauge her reaction to his new clothes. He watched as her gaze lingered on his chest and drug down his body, and he was acutely aware as she swallowed hard.

  “I was out gettin’ worked on by Evie and the little runt,” Harry informed her, and Uma hardly paid any attention to his words as she stepped closer to him tentatively. He offered her a small smile as he tried to quell whatever wrath she could have come up with.

  “I’m sorry tha’ I didn’t tell ye. I wanted to surprise ye,” he admitted, and Uma’s gaze flicked up to his. He was immediately rendered speechless by the intense emotion swirling in her deep, dark brown orbs.

  Uma stepped up so that her chest was brushing against his own, her eyes still locked onto his.

  “I, um, didn’t mean to worry ye, and uh…”

  She leaned in closer to him, despite the fact that her forehead only touched his chin when she was flat-footed. He bowed his head, looking into her eyes deeply as she stopped just short of his face. His heart was racing, and he hoped desperately that she couldn’t hear it. It was practically beating a hole in his chest.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” he told her slowly and quietly, trying his best not to look at her lips that were so close to his own. Uma, however, had no reservations as she openly stared at his mouth.

  “So why did you do it?” Uma questioned softly, and Harry let out a soft breath that washed over her face gently.

  He had to make the decision now. He had to take the plunge. He had to make the ultimate verdict on whether he would forever go on with feelings unsaid and perhaps unrequited or take a chance on love and that strange look in Uma’s eyes.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard swallow as he gazed at Uma.

  “I, um… I did it because I wanted ye ta maybe…. perhaps…. Get yer ‘ttention in a way that was a wee bit more than jus’ yer first mate,” Harry murmured, and her expression never changed as her gaze ever so slowly came up to meet his own. He felt a shiver run through him, but he kept still as she looked at him.

  She raised an eyebrow carefully as she gazed into his green-blue eyes.

  “You’ve certainly got it now.” And that was when her lips crashed against his, her hands grabbing tightly to the lapels of his coat as she yanked him against her body closely.

  For a moment, Harry couldn’t respond, too shocked by the fact that those exact lips that he had been dreaming of were actually touching his own. However, he didn’t let his opportunity slip away, and he gently rested his hands on her side, a little too amazed that this heavenly dream was actually happening to him.

  She bit at his bottom lip before taking it in between her own, sucking it as she scrambled for him to get closer to her. Harry had fireworks going off in his mind, and he wasted no time in reciprocating her enthusiasm by prodding at her mouth with his tongue.

  He barely even noticed as Uma carefully walked him backward, her hands wandering all over his chest as she attempted to feel his body underneath the vest and the shirt. She growled under her breath, pushing her lips into his own firmly in the midst of her frustration at not having access to all that she wanted.

  She then broke away quickly, shoving him backward. Harry landed on the couch, and he gaped at her, his eyes wide. Before he could even utter any protest or even think straight, Uma lowered herself down so that she was straddling his lap, one arm firmly holding onto his shoulder and the other hand at the base of his head as she yanked him into her once again.

  Harry rested his hands on her waist once again where they had been before, not daring to go anywhere else. He was honestly terrified that this was going to end, and he was going to wake up or something from the insanely good dream that this was.

  However, after a moment, Uma pulled away just enough so that their lips and noses were brushing. His eyelids fluttered open just barely as he looked at his captain dreamily. Uma’s eyes, although not completely open, were more alert than his own as she looked at something above his eye level.

  The hand on the back of his neck ran up his head until it was threaded in his tresses firmly. Uma dragged her fingers through the hair, messing it up, and Harry giggled in spite of himself, enjoying her attention.

  “There. Fixed,” Uma spoke against his lips, her own brushing trails of fire against his skin. She drew her mouth further away from him as she let her hand drop to his shoulder.

  He held back a whine of want, and she offered him barely a glance as she slid her hands down to his chest. She raised an eyebrow at the fancy buttons and his eyes went wide as she suddenly looped her fingers on either side of the vest, tearing the two sides apart from one another. Buttons flew across the couch, and she touched the white button-up shirt carefully before ripping it open as well.

  She then rested her hands on the pale, chiseled muscles that she found there, caressing his body gently as she looked at him from underneath her eyelashes. Harry swallowed hard, trying to hold back the sudden desire that hit him.

  “Now. You look the way you should,” Uma told him sternly, a little growl building in her throat as she eyed him. Harry offered her a small grin.

  “What was wrong with before?” Harry questioned, and Uma huffed as she shifted a bit on his lap.

  “You looked like a pirate in gentleman’s clothing,” Uma informed him shortly, and he chuckled a bit. However, his grin swiftly disappeared as he considered what position they were in and just how interested in him she had been. He looked at her hopefully and nervously.

  “I had to turn you back to my Harry Hook,” Uma possessively stated, and Harry felt his heart jump at the softness in her eyes that said almost everything he needed to know. He knew that was likely as close as Uma would get to any sort of confession, and he jumped at whatever she would give him. If her actions from before indicated anything, he was mostly certain that she felt the same.

  “Now, who’s your captain?” Uma commanded, sitting up on his lap as she eyed him with some combination of fondness and desire. He now knew for certain that she had to indubitably reciprocate his feelings.

  So Harry leaned forward, taking her face in his hands gently and reverently as he pulled her near to him. He then began to very softly press kisses to her face. She closed her eyes, grabbing his wrists with her hands as she sighed through her nose.

  When he finally stopped, he was almost touching her lips, hovering just over them. Her eyes reopened and his eyes were immediately locked onto hers.

  “Uma. Forever,” Harry whispered with all of the veneration that her name deserved, before leaning forward and tenderly closing the distance.

  And as she returned his kiss, Harry knew one thing.

  He had escaped the friendzone.

[funeral-clown]

for @matttheratking

happy birthday king

you ever take a look at your hands and wonder, how did i get here?

i don’t

pepe the prawn/rizzo the rat 4 times someone thought they were dating and the 1 time they realized they were

1. Kermit

Kermit knocked on the door rapidly, trying to quell his rising frustration.

“Rizzo, c’mon, open up! The cast meeting is in ten minutes, and you still need to present your ideas for the Pizza Rat sketch! It’s cultural relevance is dwindling by the second!”

When no reply came, he grumbled loudly before lifting his tiny green hand to bang on the door again. Before he could connect, it swung ajar in a sudden jarring motion. Light filtered from the dressing room into the dim backstage hall, illuminating the shadowed wooden floor. Kermit wished vaguely for eyelids, so he could blink. Instead he looked down.

“Oh. Er. Hi there, Pepe, I was expecting Rizzo.”

“I know,” the prawn snapped, “I am thinking the whole county knows! Your frog lungs are very loud, and I,” he gestured grandiosely to himself, “am trying to take a nap!”

Kermit coughed, feeling awkward.

“Right. Well. There’s a staff meeting in ten minutes. What are you doing hanging around in Rizzo’s room anyways?”

The prawn shrugged.

“We are the same size. It makes his clothes the perfect size to steal, okay?”

Kermit frowned.

“You have more arms than he does!”

“I also have scissors, okay? Now leave! This king of prawns, he needs his beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, well,” Kermit fumbled for the reigns of the conversation, “Well. If you see Rizzo, tell him-”

“I will be telling him you want to see him. Okay? Okay! Now leave! You are late for your cast meeting.”

With that the door slammed shut. Kermit turned to leave, only to hear a rusty wheezing laugh.

“D’ya think he bought it?”

“Of course he bought it! I am an ACTOR, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now help me back into this pizza costume.”

Inexplicably flustered, Kermit dashed towards the stage for the meeting.

2.Bunsen and Beaker

Rizzo and Pepe were playing their usual game of “Who Can We Scam Into Buying Lunch” when Bunsen and Beaker slid across from them at the table. The friendly banter halted immediately as they blankly stared.

“Hello!” Bunsen offered cheerfully.

“Meemeep!” Beaker echoed.

“Uh. Hi,” Rizzo responded. “What, uh. Whatcha up to?”

“Well! I’m glad you asked, my rodentious friend! Beaker and I were hoping to share our luncheon with our two similarly minded friends today!”

Pepe’s antennae twitched.

“So you will be begging off food too?”

Bunsen and Beaker looked at each other and laughed.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, but we won’t be trying to steal anyone’s lunch. WE have worked tirelessly through the night, and have constructed a perfect alternative for the worker on the go!”

“Please don’t blow to table up,” Rizzo muttered, “Please, God, don’t let them blow the table up.”

“Don’t be silly! Of course we won’t be blowing anything up outside of the lab!”

Beaker nodded, meeping in agreement.

“However, as a pair of hard workers yourselves-” Pepe laughed- “We think this might interest you.”

“Is it food?” Rizzo asked bluntly.

“In a way!”

“Is it sentient?”

“Not so far!”

Pepe looked at him and shrugged. He shrugged in return.

“Alright.”

Bunsen jostled excitedly.

“Very well! Prepare to feast your eyes, and your bodies, on THIS!”

He rolled up the arm of his lab coat dramatically to reveal several stickers with various food shapes.

“Uh, Doc, I don’t wanna harsh your vibe here, but are you saying you’re edible, or are you trying the feed us stamps.”

“Not stamps, my dear friend! Oh no, these are no mere stamps at all! These are nutrition patches! A whole serving of food, compiled on a simple slab of sticky paper! We have cut out the need to eat entirely! We’re sure they will be all the rage.”

Beaker meeped excitedly, showing his own arms covered in piles of the things. Bunsen paused, alarmed.

“Beaker, I thought I told you to stick to just a few! These are still in beta testing, there’s no telling what wearing so many at once will do!”

Rizzo chuckled nervously.

“Hey, you guys haven’t seen Willy Wonka by any chance, have you?”

“No, why, does he work here?”

Rizzo and Pepe slowly started making their way from the table.

“Great visit. I would rethink the nutrient patch thing, though. Taste and smell and texture are all parts of what make food so great!!

“Plus, the unions, they will be all over you, okay? Workers will be told to wear patches instead of eat, it will be a whole mess, okay?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry, Mr. Prawn! Beaker and I have been in our own union for quite some time! Another thing we have in common!”

“....Yeah, sure, okay! Just be ready to juice him.”

“Juice him?”

Beaker slowly began to swell, turning purple.

“Juice him.”

In the frantic mayhem left behind them, one could almost miss the small exchange.

“How do you think he knew about the actors guild for small animals?”

“I dunno, okay? My question is how long until Kermit decides our next parody movie is gonna be Willy Wonka!”

“Honestly,” Rizzo added, “I’m shocked we haven’t done it already.”

3. Gonzo

“Wait, you’re moving out?”

Rizzo stopped to look up at him from throwing things in a suitcase.

“Of the room? Yeah.”

“But where will you go?”

Rizzo dropped the jacket he was holding and jumped up to sit on the bed.

“Well. It’s a bit pricier, rent-wise, but I was thinking down the hall.”

“You pay rent?”

Rizzo wished his eyes could roll.

“No you lamebrain, and neither do you! We all live in the same house, I just thought, you know, it might be time for me to move up in the world. Literally. I’m bunking with Pepe now, things are a little more my size with him.”

Gonzo frowned.

“Is this because I keep stepping on your stuff on accident?”

“It is, in fact! It is in part because of that!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“And I forgive you but you can’t help being a big.....whatever you are any more than I can help being a rat! And when a rat’s stuff gets crushed for the twenty thousandth time, a rat starts looking for other lodging.”

Gonzo sat on the floor so they were eye level.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Rizzo laughed.

“Nah, besides. I think your girlfriend wants to eat me.”

“Camilla would never!”

“A chicken can’t help being a chicken anymore than a rat can help being a rat!”

“Why not live with some of the other rats then?”

Rizzo scoffed.

“I’m related to most of em, and the ones I’m not want their own space too. If y’know what I mean.”

“I don’t!”

“Yeah that’s for the best. Anyway, aside from not getting stepped on anymore-”

“That was only once!”

“Ahem! Aside from not getting stepped on anymore, I think me bunking with Pepe would be good for us from now on too. Give us a chance to grow the act without being around each other all the time.”

Gonzo shrugged, setting a blue hand on Rizzo’s shoulder.

“Well. I like being around you all the time, Rizzo. We’re best friends. But if this is what you wanna do, go live with the prawn, I understand. Besides, I can finally fit that chicken coop in here!”

Rizzo laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah you go wild buddy. I’m gonna finish packing.”

Pepe poked his head in.

“Hey, Ritzo, you ready to go?”

Rizzo pulled Gonzo’s hand off his shoulder before hopping down.

“Yeah almost.”

Pepe squinted.

“There is a weird energy in this room right now, eh?”

“That’s just Gonzo. He can’t help it.”

“It’s a medical condition!”

“I pity your doctor,” Pepe stated.

Rizzo grabbed his suitcase and dragged it to the door.

“Hey buddy, any chance I can get some help with these?”

“Oh, sure!” Gonzo leaned over to pick them up, only to heave and huff dramatically trying to lift the tiny luggage with his fingers. “Oh wow, what do you have in these, rocks?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rizzo scoffed, “It’s the set of encyclopedias my mom sent me for Christmas. Now let’s go, it’s just upstairs!”

He and Pepe ran ahead before Gonzo could object.

“Well,” he muttered, “At least the suit each other well.” He jiggled the suitcases in silent reiteration of the pun.

4. Miss Piggy

She saw them practicing ballroom dance with Pepe in a tutu and just assumed.

+1

Rizzo frowned at the mail.

Pepe looked up from the blueprints of the vending machine he was studying.

“What’s wrong? You look upset. We’re finally pulling off the snack heist of our dreams, okay! We’re never paying for chips again! This is a time of joy, okay?”

Rizzo hesitated.

“I just got a letter from my ma.”

Pepe got up and walked over, concerned.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s alright, it’s just. Well, look.”

Pepe scanned it over.

“Congratulations on your- Oh. She thinks we’re?”

“Yeah. And I mentioned it and turns out she’s not the only one.”

Pepe frowned.

“Really?”

“Yeah! Like what, just because we live together, we’re in a relationship?”

“And eat together every day?”

“And are listed as each others emergency contacts?”

“And know each other’s bank account information?”

“Wait, what?“

“Nothing! We were listing things!”

“I’m changing my pin number.”

“Eh, I can guess it again.”

“Pepe!”

“Back to the list, okay! And we, uh, we share clothes!”

“Sure, if laundry’s backed up! And we, um, we hatch schemes together!”

“Snack heist!”

“Snack heist!”

“And sometimes at night if I am lonely I steal your blankets to simulate the warmth of another person!”

“That’s- I have nothing to say to that.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to do that if I could just crawl in with you, okay?”

“You- Wait. Pepe do you WANT to be in a relationship?”

“I don’t know! If we get married we can’t testify against each other in court.”

“True. And it would be a pretty big tax break, if either of us paid taxes.”

“Kermit and Piggy would finally have competition, okay? We can overthrow there cutest couple powerstreak and usher in a new age! It’s the time of rat and prawn, okay!”

“Year of the rat, baby!”

“And prawn!”

“And prawn!”

They both stared at each other for a moment.

“So I guess she was right. We are in a relationship.”

Pepe shrugged.

“Eh. I could do worse. And you could not do better.”

Rizzo wished again, and not for the last time, that he could roll his eyes.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 7/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 7 Summary: Hizashi takes the night off to spend time with some new faces and some old mistakes.

Part 1 on  Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 3 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 4 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 5 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 6 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 7 on AO3

“Go-od morning, caller, what can I do for you at this early, early hour?”

It was almost three AM and his midnight coffee was wearing off fast, but Hizashi tried to keep the pep up in his voice for all the late shift workers, insomniacs, and other assorted night owls who tuned in and kept his ratings up.

“Heyo!” Hizashi held back a groan and he recognized Haru’s voice on the other end of the line. “I was hoping maybe I could pick your brain about a problem I’ve been having with a certain brother of mine.”

“I usually don’t give out advice until Friday night’s show,” Hizashi said with a meaningful sharpness, “but I’ll give it a whirl. What’s up?”

“I need some advice on how to get my brother to stop being such a mope-ass and come shittalk his ex over drinks,” Haru said brightly.

Hizashi pursed his lips, rolling his eyes. “Sounds like a real dilemma,” he intoned. “Are you sure he’s moping, or is he maybe just not interested in going out?”

“You don’t know my brother,” Haru replied, her grin obvious in her voice. Hizashi scoffed, clapping a hand over his mouth just in time to make it sound like a blip of static. “He’s usually the first one in line to get white girl schwasted and sing karaoke to get over some dipshit he’s dated, but so far every time I’ve told him he should come out with me and some friends from work he keeps ghosting me.” She paused, then added, “And it was kind of my fault he went out with this particular dipshit, so it’s on me to make up for encouraging bad life choices, y’know?”

“By encouraging other bad life choices?” Hizashi asked, raising an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see.

“By dragging him out of his rut before he fossilizes,” Haru corrected.

Hizashi rolled his eyes, grinning in spite of himself. “I mean, it sounds to me like you have the right idea. Maybe try asking one more time,” he said.

“I dunno, he can be pretty stubborn,” Haru said, fully teasing now.

“Thirteenth time’s the charm, right? The worst he can do is say no,” Hizashi said, texting Okay, okay, message received. Where and when? to Haru as he spoke.

“We’ll see. Thanks, dude. Hey, while I’ve got you on the line, can I make a quick song request?”

“Lay it on me.”

“‘Heroes’, by Bowie,” Haru said, her voice turning a little soft as she said it. Hizashi smiled to himself.

“A favorite of his?” he said.

“Yeah. I think if he’s listening it might cheer him up.”

“Sure thing, caller. I wouldn’t worry about things too much. Sounds like you know your brother pretty well.”

The family joke was that Haruko and Hizashi were actually twins, he’d just gotten lost and showed up three years late. It might as well have been true; both were tall and quick like their father and had their mother’s blond hair and sharp tongue. Haru loved Hinako with all the closeness and affection you had for someone you had shared a uterus with, but there was no denying Hizashi had been her best friend from birth. They’d been attached at the hip basically from the moment toddler Haru had been told she had a new baby brother on the way. So when Hizashi called her in a breathless whirl to say his results letter from UA High had come in the mail, Haru had dropped everything and rushed home.

Hizashi was just about the smartest person Haru had ever met, with amazing recall for the tiniest details and a near-infinite energy for learning new things. Applying that energy, however, had been his downfall from the off; all the brains and ambition in the world didn’t make up for his attention issues, Quirk mishaps, and inability to connect socially with his classmates. He’d spent most of upper elementary school floundering academically, skating by at the bare minimum level to pass in no particular direction.

Visiting Haru at UA during her first year culture festival, however, had been a revelation for him. Seeing the school and all it had to offer someone with a powerful Quirk and a brilliant mind had finally been a tangible goal Hizashi could focus on. He’d immediately buckled down, applying himself to his schoolwork in a way Haru had never seen from him before and he never looked back. He’d blazed through middle school at the top of his class, easily securing his place in the UA entrance exam. No one had any doubts he had blown the written exam out of the water, but it was the practical application exam that really counted when you wanted to be a hero.

And so now here the two of them were, sitting on Hizashi’s bedroom floor with the unopened results envelope between them. Hizashi was vibrating in place, his leg thumping under him and making the rest of him shake. Haru kept looking from him to the envelope and back again, the palpable waves of excitement and nerves rolling off of him making her just as keyed up as he was.

“Want me to do it?” Haru asked, half-teasing.

Hizashi shook his head, still bouncing. “I got it, I just…” he trailed off, the first spots of self-doubt starting to creep in around the edges of his mood. Haru decided to cut that off at the pass, picking the envelope up by one end and holding the other out to Hizashi like it was a wishbone.

“Count of three,” she said. Hizashi nodded, taking his end in both trembling hands. “Okay. One--”

There was a sharp sound of ripping paper as Hizashi jumped the gun and pulled back his end. A single sheet of UA letterhead stationery dropped onto the floor. Haru’s spirit sank as she thought of the thick sheaf of paperwork and the holo-disc acceptance message that had come for her three years ago. Her hope dwindled down to embers as Hizashi shook the letter open. His anxious excitement went out like a snuffed candle, expression falling from eager anticipation to confusion to a blank emptiness as his eyes scanned down the page. His hands were shaking again, clenched around the edges of the paper. His breathing sharpened suddenly into the quick, barking wheezes that usually heralded an asthma attack.

“Hizashi?” Haru asked tentatively, reaching out toward him. Hizashi pulled away violently, snapping to his feet. He looked down at her, breath hissing between clenched teeth. His eyes were wild and unfocused; he looked very young and very lost. “Oh god, Zash,” Haru breathed.

Before she could do anything else, Hizashi bolted from the room and out of the apartment at a breakneck sprint. Haru followed after him as fast as she could, calling after him as she heard him thundering down the building’s staircase. She finally caught him up to him as they both exploded out the building’s side door and onto the street. Hizashi staggered a few steps, barely getting his feet under himself before the next step came. He crumpled forward, back arched into a hard C shape and his shoulders heaving. Haru’s eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her ears just before Hizashi let out a raw, ear-splitting scream loud enough to make the street jump under their feet. All of the streetlamps flickered and flared as the shockwave hit them and the evening came alive with the cacophonous sound of every car alarm in a two-block radius going off. Hizashi sucked in a hard breath that escaped him as a croaking hiccup as his legs finally gave out. He collapsed onto his knees in the middle of the street, hands buried in his hair as he let out raw, halting sobs. Haru ran to him, wrapping her arms around him and letting Hizashi cling to her and howl into her shoulder. He’d dropped the letter when he fell, and in the dim light from the resetting streetlamps Haru could just make out what it said.

Dear Mr. Hizashi Yamada,

Thank you for your interest in UA High School’s Hero Course academic program. We appreciate your diligence and dedication to completing all required steps of our application and evaluation process.

However, during the course of the practical application exam, an occurrence of your Quirk usage resulted in a one-block section of our video monitoring system being taken offline for a period of approximately 92.8 seconds. Due to a lack of additional coverage angles in this area, we are unable to validate the nine (9) exam points that were registered to you during this outage period.

Unfortunately unvalidated points are not able to be applied to your exam score, bringing your total practical exam score below our passing threshold level.

We thank you again for your interest, and wish you the best of luck in all future endeavors.

The letter was signed by Principal Nedzu and a slew of other names that Haru vaguely recognized as being on the admittance board staff.

Bastards, Haru thought savagely, pulling Hizashi even closer as she stroked his hair. They had no right to dock him that many points over their own carelessness. If that was the kind of regard they wanted to show applicants, then to hell with them anyway. It would serve them right when Hizashi applied somewhere else and became a top-ranked hero all on his own.

But Hizashi didn’t apply anywhere else. UA had been his first and only choice; it had been his dream. Now the dream was gone, taking all of Hizashi’s spark with it. He fell back into his old habits, doing the bare minimum to not fail his classes while his grades toppled around him. Any time not spent sleepwalking through his schoolwork or being nudged into the bare basics of self-care was spent shut up in his room in silence, eyes focused on nothing. Not even their parents’ offer for Hizashi to get a fresh start by moving in with their maternal grandparents and finishing his schooling in America had gotten any kind of reaction out of him. Hizashi had just shrugged, giving a hollow-eyed monosyllable of agreement before asking to be excused so that he could go pack.

The day after his middle school graduation Haru had given her brother the tightest hug she could muster and told him to call her the second he needed anything. Hizashi didn’t respond, turning and trudging listlessly away from her onto the plane.

When he’d accepted Haru’s invitation to “drinks with friends from work”, Hizashi had unfortunately forgotten that Haru had two jobs. Instead of the gaggle of yoga instructors and personal trainers he’d been expecting to meet up with, Hizashi rounded the corner to see his sister standing amid a group of her fellow pro heroes in their civilian finest. He half-recognized most of them by build or face shape, but there was no mistaking the broad frame and wild shock of blue-white hair of the man currently laughing over something on Haru’s phone: the number six pro hero and UA teacher, Loud Cloud himself. A shrill alarm of self-preservation went off in Hizashi’s brain, screaming for him to beg off and leave before things got any worse. Before he could do more than panic and stare, however, Haru spotted him and waved him over.

“Zash! You made it!” Haru said, beaming. Hizashi smiled back weakly and waved as he trudged over, trying very hard to not make eye contact with anyone but her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hizashi muttered.

Haru waved a hand dismissively. “We only just got here,” she said. “Everyone, this my brother Hizashi. Zash, this is everyone.” She rattled off a laundry list of names that came and went before Hizashi could put them to memory. What did catch his attention, however, was the fact that his presence brought the group to an even number of people. His brilliant mess of a sister had invited him, a multi-platinum wanted criminal, on a group date with some of the most powerful and respected pro heroes in the city. Hizashi bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep in the snort of helpless laughter caught in the back of his throat.

The ploy seemed to become even more obvious as Haru shooed Hizashi down to the opposite end of the table from herself, making sure he sat down across from Loud Cloud (real name Something-Or-Other Shirakumo). Hizashi could feel a nervous sweat beginning to gather on the back of his neck as Shirakumo cheerfully poured him a drink. There was no reason for him to freak out, Hizashi reminded himself sternly. No one at this table save for Haru had any idea he dabbled on the wrong side of the tracks, and not even she knew the half of it. All he had to do was put on a good face and avoid getting “white girl schwasted”, as Haru had so eloquently put it, and he’d be fine.

“So, what do you do, Hizashi?” Shirakumo asked, making Hizashi jump.

“He’s a self-made man!” Haru piped up from the far end of the table. Hizashi rolled his eyes at her.

“Uh, radio,” Hizashi answered for himself. “I’m the operations manager over at Asahi Radio, and I run the overnight show every couple of weeks if they need something to fill the slot.”

“That’s why you sound so familiar!” Shirakumo said, snapping his fingers triumphantly. “‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’, right? We have it on all the time in the office when we have to pull graveyard shifts.”

Hizashi grinned in spite of himself, a flattered heat in his cheeks. “My sister has a way of inflicting her bad taste on other people,” he joked apologetically. Haru blew a loud raspberry at him but Shirakumo just laughed, shaking his head.

“Nah, we’ve been listening for years, even before Haru hired on. It’s a good pep-up when it’s two AM and you’re still chained to your desk.”

Hizashi couldn’t help preening a little. “Glad to be of service,” he said, bowing.

“How long have you been in radio?” Shirakumo asked.

“Uh.” Hizashi paused, trying to do math despite the ebbing panic scrambling his concentration. “Twelve years now?” he said, almost sure that was right. “I did an internship right after I graduated high school and then I ended up just kind of sticking around. They haven’t gotten rid of me yet, so I must be doing something right.”

The Hizashi that stepped back off the plane after three years in Boston wasn’t the same one who had left, but Haru was glad to see the change. Hizashi saw her waiting inside the doors to the baggage claim and ran full-tilt through the crowd to scoop her up in a tight bearhug.

“Gah! Break my ribs, why dontcha?” Haru laughed, hugging him just as tightly. Hizashi had sprouted up while he was abroad, towering over her by at least three inches even without the tall fluff of hair gelled up over his forehead. He was still the same grinning dork she remembered, though, from his chunky hipster glasses to the way he immediately pulled her into a second hug just as tight as the first.

“I missed you so much, though!” Hizashi protested. Haru grinned, squeezing him back.

“Yeah, me too,” she said. “Now go get your bags and let’s hop-to,” she added. “I’m not the only one who missed your ugly mug.”

Hizashi chattered the entire cab ride back to their parents’ apartment, barely containing his excitement at being home. Haru kept thinking back to the sallow-faced, wilted scrap of a boy she’d seen off at the airport compared to the sunny freckled giant on the seat beside her and had to scrub the corners of her eyes dry before she made a fool of herself. Hizashi made no such attempt to contain his emotions as he walked into the surprise welcome back party everyone had put together for him. They buried him in affection, glad to finally have their family whole again. The gap in their ranks had almost fallen to the back of their collective minds in his absence but having Hizashi back made his absence sharper in retrospect. Hizashi spent the night regaling them with stories about American high school life that sounded to Haru like something out of a grimdark John Hughes movie but he swore up and down weren’t exaggerations. He kept in motion as he spoke, buzzing around the room to emphasize his points with some kind of elaborating miming or clearing away dishes or just pacing the room in the flurry of enthusiasm he always had when he was entertaining an audience.

Late into a story about the hellish test of fortitude that a square dancing unit in gym class was when you were in the middle of a growth spurt, Hizashi was interrupted mid-thought by the phone ringing.

“I got it, Ma,” Hizashi said, waving for their mother to sit back down as he headed off to grab the handset in the hall. “Yah-mada residence!” Haru heard him beaming into the phone. She caught their mother’s eye and they shared a snort and knowing grin. He’d been back all of a few hours and was already running full steam ahead, Haru thought, shaking her head. She could pretend to be disapproving, but there was nothing that made her feel more relieved than knowing he knew he was finally home.

She expected him to come loping back down the hallway after a few minutes after confirming to their grandparents he was safe, but the moment of absence began to stretch out uncomfortably. Haru got up and followed him, a sudden sinking in her chest at the thought that Hizashi’s cheer had been for their sake and he’d taken the excuse to break off and be upset on his own.

“Hey, didja fall in?” Haru asked, trying to keep her voice light as she poked her head around the corner. Hizashi visibly jumped at the sound, fumbling the phone’s handset before slamming it down into the cradle.

“Sorry, what?” Hizashi asked breathlessly. He looked very pale all of a sudden and his eyes had a faraway, glassy sheen to them.

“Everything okay, Zash?” Haru asked, the clench in her chest tightening another notch.

“Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah, I’m good. Wrong number,” Hizashi said, gesturing vaguely at the phone. “Got kind of shitty when I told them. Some people, right?” He gave a slightly unsteady scoff, rolling his eyes. Haru raised an eyebrow.

“Uh...huh,” she said slowly. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Totally,” Hizashi said, brushing past her back towards the living room. “Anyway, where was I?”

The odd hiccup in Hizashi’s mood kept eating at Haru over the next few days, all the more because of how otherwise normal he was acting. He spent his days out of the apartment, nominally looking for a job now that he was settled, and his evenings scouring want ads during commercial breaks while they all watched television together. He was buoyant and excitable, especially the night he came home exclaiming that the webcast talk show he’d spent the last few years running as a hobby had landed him a paid internship at one of the downtown radio stations. Everything was smiles and normality with occasional bouts of especially good news, and that more than anything was putting her on edge.

Hizashi begged off to bed early one night, claiming he wanted to get to sleep early before his internship started the next day. Slowly the living room emptied without Hizashi’s inexhaustible energy to keep them awake. Haru dozed off on the sofa in the middle of texting one of her friends, too lazy to drag herself to bed.

She was shaken awake by the sound of her keychains clattering together as someone took them off the hook by the door. Haru peered blearily over the back of the sofa just in time to see the back of Hizashi’s head disappearing out the front door. Her heart sank as she checked the time: two-thirty AM. A tired, scared part of her wanted to believe it was just nerves keeping him up and he was going out for some air. The look on his face after the phone call at his party came to the front of her mind, though, and wouldn’t let her put it aside.

Haru followed Hizashi at tailing distance, having to quickly duck behind whatever cover she could find as he got turned around and had to retrace his steps. Another nail in the coffin for this being a quick trip out for some fresh air; between his terrible sense of direction and having been gone for three years Hizashi would know better than to wander around unfamiliar territory in the middle of the night. Unless of course, Haru thought as she crouched behind a dumpster and watched her brother knock on the employee entrance of Hanajima’s Garden Supply and Boutique Florist, he had planned to meet with someone.

She tiptoed forward as Hizashi was waved in and the heavy steel door shut behind him. Her heart rattled painfully in her throat as she did her best to peek through the slats of the vent in the door. Haru only caught a flash of Hizashi’s hair and the back of his neon blue windbreaker as he disappeared deeper into the shop. Haru chewed her lip, a fist of panic threatening to squeeze the breath out of her. She wished she’d been thinking clearly enough in the moment to grab her phone on her way out. The smart thing to do would be to go find a patrolling hero or a police station or at least a payphone nearby, but the thought of leaving Hizashi alone to fend for himself if something went wrong made her stomach seize. No one on the up-and-up had meetings in the dimly-lit backroom of a flower shop at three in the morning, that much she was sure about.

Haru shifted from foot to foot, mind racing at a hundred miles an hour but getting nowhere. Hizashi was going to have to tell her the truth now; he couldn’t keep up his facade when he’d been caught red-handed doing something this level of sketchy. She would just have to stick around and find out what the hell he was thinking and the two of them would figure out where to go from here. Haru slowly backed away from the door in case someone inside the shop was watching and crouched down with her back against the shop’s wall to watch the door and wait for Hizashi. She tried to stay calm but as the minutes stretched into decades she had more and more time to stew on the audacity of it all. She and Hizashi had been best friends since they were babies, they’d never kept secrets from one another. It was against every tennant of the unspoken code of trust the two of them held sacred. Now here he was, barely a month back from doing god knew what in America and sneaking around behind everyone’s back. Behind her back. By the time Hizashi stumbled back out the employee door, pushed over the threshold by someone inside, Haru’s temper had risen to a barely-restrained boil.

Hizashi sighed, sniffling hard and scrubbing under his nose with the back of his wrist as he turned to walk away. Haru followed him as he reached the sidewalk, a whole slew of new terrible thoughts sprouting in her mind in the wake of that gesture. Hizashi’s mind seemed thoroughly elsewhere as he walked, not reacting to the sound of Haru’s footsteps behind him until her patience snapped and she spoke.

“Funny,” Haru said, relishing the way Hizashi jumped and staggered around to face her, “this doesn’t look like being in bed by ten because you have work in the morning.” She crossed her arms and channeled her mother’s most intimidating “all right, start talking” eyebrow raise.

“H-Haru--you--what are you doing here?” Hizashi spluttered. His eyes were wide and scared and there was a dribble of blood trickling down from his nose. Concern sparked in Haru’s chest, but she did her best to push it aside for the moment. She could afford to be worried about him once she knew what she was worried about.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Haru said tartly.

“N-Nothing, it’s just. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Hizashi rambled, using a lot of words to say absolutely nothing. Haru bristled.

“Hizashi Yamada, I swear to god--” she began.

“Haru, seriously!” Hizashi snapped, cutting her off. His voice cracked high at the end the way it always did when he was trying to keep himself from crying. Haru realized he was shaking all over, pale and wild-eyed in a way that was horribly familiar.

“Hizashi, is this about that phone call?” Haru asked, her tone softened but no less stern. Hizashi flinched, then nodded hesitantly. He dropped his eyes away from hers, arms wrapping protectively across his chest.

“Mr. Hanajima called. He. He thought I was Dad, and.” Hizashi broke off, shaking his head. “Mom and Dad were in trouble, but I took care of it. Just forget it, okay?” His voice was shaky and pleading.

“What do you mean, they’re in trouble?” Haru asked, a cold chill running up her spine.

“Were, they were in trouble, but it’s fine now, I swear!” Hizashi said. He tried to smile reassuringly but the faltering expression just made him look more scared. “They just. They owed Mr. Hanajima some money, and they were late on payments. He said he was going to have to find a new way to enforce the deadlines if they didn’t pay it all off soon, so I told him I’d take care of it instead.”

“What? Why?” Haru asked. Her tone came out too sharp again and Hizashi flinched away from her again.

“On the phone he kept talking about how it was irresponsible to borrow so much money without a good way to pay it back,” Hizashi mumbled slowly. “And how the university board and Mom’s promoters would want to know about how reckless their employees were being. And how the hero certification board would want to think twice about hiring out someone with parents who were so financially unsound, and the medical board and the admittance committees for all the high schools in town and...and the whole stupid thing is my fault anyway, so I handled it, okay? It’s no big deal.” He pushed the last part out in one rapid, shaky breath.

Haru stared at him. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing; her parents had never mentioned anything about money problems to her, least of all the kind that required the help of some racketeering florist. “You lost me,” Haru admitted flatly. “I mean, I get why you’re worried, but. Mom and Dad are grown adults, Zash. If they felt like they were in that kind of trouble they would tell us--me especially! I literally went to school for this kind of thing. How is any of this your fault?”

“What do you think they needed a whole lot of quick money for, Haru?” Hizashi asked, a snippy tone of exasperation coming into his voice. “For their adult daughters who have their own jobs and pay their own bills? For--For the preteens who are acing every one of their classes and are gonna have the world on a string after they graduate? Or maybe it was for their fuckup middle child who decided he needed to have a breakdown over not getting something he wanted!” His voice rose to a frantic, angry shout, echoing loudly enough in the early-morning silence to rattle the glass in a nearby shop window. Hizashi clapped his hands over his mouth, shoulders heaving as he breathed.

The last flicker of anger went out of Haru as she watched him struggle against the impulse to scream. She wondered how long that had been boiling under his skin, waiting to emerge. “Zash, that wasn’t your fault either,” she said gently. “They made a stupid, bad decision and you got screwed. You’re allowed to be upset over something like that.”

Hizashi scoffed, hands dropping to wrap around himself again. “Two hundred forty million yen’s worth of upset?” he asked hollowly.

Haru’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“It costs a lot of money to raise your kid from six thousand miles away,” Hizashi said bitterly. He shook his head hard and looked back up at Haru. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “I already said I’d take care of it. It’ll take a while to pay off, but I’ve got plenty of time. It’s fine.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself and Haru at the same time. Neither of them were buying it if the current mood was anything to go by.

“Zash,” Haru said slowly. She tried to think of a way to phrase her objection as something softer than “don’t be stupid”. “What are you supposed to do if they decide that paying them back isn’t good enough?” she said finally. “Just keep working for them until you die?”

“I. I dunno,” Hizashi mumbled, shrugging. “I guess I’ll figure that out if it happens. Right now all that matters is making things right for Mom and Dad, and I did that.”

Haru sighed. An exhausted, selfish part of her wished it had been something more straightforwardly wrong that had them hashing things out in the early morning air. Something she could feel justified in yelling at him about, at the very least. “You aren’t going to tell them about this, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Hizashi shook his head firmly. “No,” he said. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you?”

Haru snorted out an exasperated laugh. “What good would it do?” she asked, throwing her hands up. “They didn’t want to tell us, what good is it going to do to let them know we know by getting them wrapped up in it all over again? I’d run your dumb ass to the cops, but at this point they’re probably in Hanajima’s pocket already.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Just. I want you to promise me something, okay? I’ll keep out of it for now, but you have to swear to me the millisecond that this gets too big for you to handle on your own, you let me help you, got it?”

Hizashi looked uncomfortable giving his word on something like that, but Haru didn’t relent. She set her jaw and held out her hand with the pinky extended. He hesitated a long moment, then linked his pinky with hers and they shook on it.

“I promise,” Hizashi said quietly, meeting her eye again. Haru nodded authoritatively, shaking one last time before letting go.

“Okay,” she said, letting her breath out slowly. “That internship you told us about. Is that a for-real thing, or was it a cover for this whole...thing?” Haru asked, waving a vague hand to encompass the tangled mess the night had turned into

One corner of Hizashi’s mouth quirked up and he brightened very slightly. “Yeah, it’s real. It really does start tomorrow, too. Er, today, I guess,” he corrected himself awkwardly.

Haru nodded. “We should get home, then,” she said, turning him the right direction down the sidewalk. She took his hand as they walked, relieved that his hand was shaking just as much as hers.

Haru hated feeling like she couldn’t trust Hizashi’s word that his internship was real, but that was exactly why she was in the front lobby of Asahi Radio at lunchtime the next day. The receptionist told her it would be a few minutes until the interns were free, so Haru wandered off to kill time reading the wall of award plaques they had on display.

Haru heard her brother’s cackling laughter trickling down the hallway even before she saw him. Hizashi came strolling up to the front with a whole entourage of kids around his age, arms full of boxes and in the middle of one of his many stories about living in America. He beamed as he saw her, almost dropping his boxes as he tried to wave. The interns went in a side room with their load and were dismissed by the woman overseeing the work-study. Haru grinned in a combination of relief and genuine pride as Hizashi jogged over.

“Hey, kid,” Haru said, reaching out and ruffling his hair. “Thought I’d take you out to lunch to celebrate your first day. Pick something expensive, it’s a special occasion.”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Hizashi teased brightly as they walked out the front door. Haru privately doubted that was the part of all this that she’d come to regret.

“Have you guys been having to pull a lot of all-nighters?” Hizashi asked, trying his best to make the question sound casual.

Shirakumo frowned slightly, nodding. “I wish we weren’t,” he said, “but it seems like every time we get a handle on a case we’re working on, three more complications crop up overnight.”

“Which is the boss’s nice way of saying if any of us meet Mockingbird face-to-face, we’re going to kick his teeth in,” the woman sitting on Shirakumo’s left said, jostling Shirakumo with her elbow.

It took more self-control than Hizashi thought he possessed three beers into the night to hold back a bark of laughter at that. He waited until he thought he could speak without giggling, then asked, “He’s still active? All of our news contacts are at loose ends trying to come up with anything new about him.”

“That is a whole-ass mood,” the woman said, nodding. “Hey. Haru says you’re pretty brainy,” she added, pointing speculatively at Hizashi.

“I guess so,” Hizashi said with a shrug.

“Maybe you can riddle this out for us,” the woman said. “Say you were tracking a criminal, goes by a code name that rhymes with ‘blocking herd’. The guy by definition is a lone operator, and he follows a pretty standard pattern of ebb and flow in what he does. Then one day he falls off the face of the planet. Not a peep out of him. Well, other than a couple tangents that people blame him for, but you can’t pin ‘em on him, so they don’t really count. Then right in the middle of that, suddenly there’s a whole new face who shows up and causes a scene, supposedly on the first guy’s behalf. But there’s still no sign of the guy himself in any of it. What say you?”

“I would say maybe you need to switch to water for a while, Misa,” Shirakumo said meaningfully, tugging the half-full glass of beer out of her hand and swapping it for a glass of water. Misa frowned at him, but chugged it obediently. “None of that constitutes an official statement from the agency or anyone affiliated with it, by the way,” Shirakumo added to Hizashi. He was still smiling, but there was a definite “or else” hiding in his tone.

Hizashi nodded dismissively. “Obviously. Just a hypothetical over drinks with friends,” he agreed. He took a long sip of his drink, pretending to be thinking the situation over. The fact that Aizawa was now officially implicated caused a sharp squirm of guilt in his gut, but he did his best to ignore it.

“I see what you mean about one problem being solved causing three more in the process,” he said finally with a thoughtful nod. “Assuming the new face is legitimate, that opens up a couple options. It could mean your main suspect is getting cocky and adding to his ranks, or he’s getting scared and wants some insurance that he won’t go down alone,“ he continued, ticking the options off on his fingers. “Either way, you at least have your reason for him staying quiet.”

“How so?” Shirakumo asked. He was looking more closely at Hizashi now, an impressed interest clear in his expression.

“Why would he risk showing his face if his pets are walking around doing his wet work?” Hizashi explained, wondering too late if that skirted too close to the truth. “Cockiness leads to laziness, fear leads to paranoia,” he added, weighing the words in his hands. “Either way, not great. And then you also have to consider the option that the whole thing’s a lie, and the supposed new muscle is just a contractor for a competitor or someone your guy pissed off who’s trying to get him into extra trouble by pulling stunts in his name behind his back. If so, who’s behind that?” He shrugged, very sure now that everyone was looking at him that he should have kept his mouth more full of booze and less full of words. “Sounds like a total headache. No matter what solution you’re looking at you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Damn,” someone muttered from the other end of the table.

“Told you,” Haru replied, preening. Hizashi shot her a look that she cheerfully ignored.

“So, we’re hiring this dude for our analysis team, like, yesterday, right?” Misa asked Shirakumo. Hizashi laughed awkwardly, shaking his head.

“Thanks, but nah. I’m not really the hero type, I’m just a DJ with an overactive imagination. I’ll leave the crime fighting to you guys and just use the talents I was given to help wherever I can,” Hizashi said, raising his glass in a salute down the table.

Haru drummed her heel against the floor, arms crossed tight across her chest and her back against the closed door of her room. Hizashi was sitting at her desk, eyebrows tightly knit together and a hand over his mouth as he re-read the handwritten letter in front of him. Haru’s fist was clenched around the envelope it had come in so tightly she could practically feel her parent’s names written on it along with the return address of Hanajima’s Garden Supply and Boutique Florist.

“This is insane,” Hizashi said finally, his voice hollow.

“Not the word I would have used, but. Yeah,” Haru sighed. She was doing everything she could to suppress the urge to say “I told you so”, but the words kept bunching up in the back of her throat if she thought about them too long. She could only thank her lucky stars she’d been the first one to get home and check the mail today. Right at the top of the pile had been the letter from Hanajima. Haru had snatched it up and ripped it open before she even bothered to take off her shoes. Haru had already been dialing Hizashi to come home before she reached the end of the letter; all it had taken to get him moving was the word “Hanajima”. The two of them had barricaded themselves in Haru’s room, reading the letter one after the other in tense silence.

Dear Yamadas,

It has been quite some time since we last corresponded, and I wish that it could be for a better reason.

Some years ago, you were granted forgiveness on a large lump-sum loan debt to me due to outside assistance. However, it had recently come to my attention that, putting aside the forgiven amount, there was unaccounted for interest remaining on the amount registered as paid off which has in turn gathered interest in the intervening years.

Per our previous agreement, as this amount was accrued prior to your loan forgiveness, the sum total of seven hundred eighty-thousand yen remains on your account in need of repayment. I understand that you may need some time to gather such an amount. I am willing to work out an attenuated payment plan similar to your previous repayment schedule, should you need such accommodations.

I hope this letter finds you all well, and I look forward to hearing from you regarding the issue I have outlined above.

Sincerely, Keijiro Hanajima

Hizashi sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He’s got to know he can’t pull this over on me,” he said, thumbnail scraping irritably at the corner of his mouth. “I’m too deep in his money, I know this is wrong.”

“He was probably counting on Mom and Dad not telling us,” Haru said. “He knows they didn’t tell us about the loan, and that you still haven’t told them that you’re the one that got them off the hook.”

Hizashi’s expression clouded over even more at that. He chewed the inside of his cheek, then shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” He said it like that was the last of the conversation, holding out a hand to Haru for her to give him the envelope as he dialed a number into his phone. He looked up at her when she didn’t hand it to him, flexing his fingers in a “dude, c’mon” sort of getsure. “Mr. Hanajima, it’s Yamada. Yessir, I’m well, how are you?” he said, glaring at Haru when she moved the envelope to her far hand.

“Put it on speaker,” Haru mouthed, signing the words as well to make sure he got the point. Hizashi widened his eyes meaningfully at her as he shook his head sharply.

“I’m handling it,” he mouthed back. “Yessir, everything’s fine, I just had something to talk to you about if you have a minute,” he said brightly into the phone. Haru replied by signing “Not leaving. Speakerphone. Now.” and crossing her arms. Hizashi gritted his teeth, grudgingly putting his phone down on the desk and turning on speakerphone. He put his middle finger to his lips, reminding her to keep quiet and flipping her the bird all in one motion. Haru rolled her eyes at him but did her best to not to exist for the moment.

“I’d say there were better times, but I’m sure you’ll get to the point,” Hanajima was saying from the other end.

“Of course. It’s about a letter that was sent to my parents today,” Hizashi said. He was keeping his voice on the lighter end of neutral, but his expression was stormy and his leg had started thumping irritably.

There was a short silence on the other end of the line, then Hanajima asked in a pointedly calm voice, “Do you make a habit of reading other peoples’ mail?”

“Only when I assume from the return address that it’s mine,” Hizashi said, coldly chirpy. “There, uh. Seems to be a discrepancy between what I was told when I signed on and what you’re telling them in this letter, sir. Something about unforeseen interest?”

“I know my own business, Yamada,” Hanajima said coolly.

Haru barely held in a snort, rolling her eyes. “What a tool,” she mouthed to Hizashi, who bit back a grin and waved for her to keep still.

“I’d never dream to imply otherwise, sir,” Hizashi said. “It’s more a question of numbers. I’ve been keeping a log of my payments and theirs for a while now, sir, for my own records. There’s nothing that would add up to the kind of money you’re asking for.”

To Haru’s surprise, Hanajima gave a sardonic, almost patronizing snort of laughter. “I’m sure that’s how it is in your records,” he said. “It would be rather inconvenient for all of you if it suddenly happened that you owed an even greater sum to me than previously thought, wouldn’t it? But unfortunately sometimes that’s just how these things go.”

“With all due respect, sir--” Hizashi began, his thinning patience beginning to show in his tone.

“Which is a lot, Yamada, and I would hope you and your parents keep that fact in mind,” Hanajima said. “You have a diligent mind, Yamada, but human error can make numbers do a remarkable amount of things, particularly when there is a conflict of interest to spurr it along. Money is owed and money will be paid. That’s just business.”

Hizashi’s jaw went rigid, hands balling into tight fists on the desk. “Of course, sir,” he said through gritted teeth. “My mistake. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Hanajima agreed. Without any kind of pleasantry or signoff he hung up, leaving Hizashi seething in his wake.

Haru let out a long, low whistle. “That went well,” she muttered in a half-hearted attempt at levity. Hizashi didn’t reply, his eyes staring hard into the middle distance. He straightened up in the chair, coming to some grim decision.

“Haru?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Hizashi said as he stood up.

“What?” Haru asked warily. Hizashi fixed her with a determined stare. She had the sudden thought of how grown up he looked now; the past five years had taken the last of the adolescent roundness out of his features and made him all sharp angles and seriousness.

“When I go out tonight, don’t follow me,” Hizashi said.

“Zash,” Haru sighed, just on the edge of wheedling. Hizashi’s expression didn’t falter. Haru frowned, nodding in grudging agreement. “Fine. But you remember that promise you made me, got it? If this goes to shit, you call me,” she said, poking him meaningfully in the chest.

Hizashi’s mouth quirked up into a very slight smile. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze. “I know, I will. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“Oh my god, did you guys hear about what happened with Mr. Hanajima from the flower shop?” Hoshi asked a few days later over dinner. Haru’s head jerked up at the sound of the name, heart in her throat. She shot Hizashi a glance out of the corner of her eye, but he had his eyes locked on his plate as he calmly cut his steak into increasingly smaller pieces.

“Who’s that?” Hinako’s stepson Hitoshi piped up.

“An old friend of Nan and Jii-chan,” Hinako said, motioning for him to not get distracted and finish his dinner.

“What about him?” Haru asked as Hoshi all but vibrated in their chair with the barely-restrained excitement of a teenager with hot gossip to share.

“Okay, so get this: everybody thought he was just a florist or whatever, but he’s actually been running this huge money scheme out of his shop and loansharking all these people and has all these ties to, like, yakuza and stuff,” Hoshi said.

“What’s a yakersha?” Hitoshi asked around a mouthful of vegetables.

“It’s ‘yakuza’, don’t talk with your mouth full, and never mind,” Hinako’s wife Mara said, once again turning the eight-year-old’s attention back to his plate.

“Fumiko Nakamura from the second year class says she heard from her uncle that Hanajima lost it and just spilled everything to the cops over the phone,” Hiro added, catching the spark of his twin’s infectious energy. “They got him on tape and everything.”

“He totally got arrested right in front of me and Hiro while we were walking to school today, it was crazy!” Hoshi finished, eyes bright.

“He always seemed so...legitimate. You never do know with some people I suppose,” their father said haltingly with a slightly strained laugh. Their mother reached out and squeezed his hand.

Haru stared hard at Hizashi, not so much as blinking until he finally relented and looked up at her. He met her gaze smiling calmly with nothing behind his eyes. It was disconcerting how easily he could switch himself off like that.

“How?” Haru signed to him, using the smallest motions she could.

“Don’t worry. It’s over,” Hizashi replied. Haru frowned, having had about enough of his sideways, noncommittal answers.

“You two all right down there?” their father asked before Haru could press him for details.

“I took the last popover and she needed to call me a few things she can’t say in front of the shortstack,” Hizashi said brightly, grinning over at Hitoshi.

“Language,” their father teased with a faux-stern look at Haru.

“He started it,” Haru groused, sticking her tongue out at Hizashi. Hizashi gave her a tight smile of thanks for playing along. Haru rolled her eyes but nodded back. This would just get added to the mounting pile of things about her brother she was never going to get a straight answer about, she supposed moodily.

“It was really cool to finally meet you, dude,” Shirakumo said as he and Hizashi walked down the street towards the train station. “Haru talks about you all the time, I think we were all kind of chomping at the bit to finally meet the mythical Hizashi.”

“I am pretty great,” Hizashi joked, tossing his hair over his shoulder. Shirakumo let out a loud, snorty laugh. It was really no wonder he was such a popular hero, Hizashi thought. His height and broadness gave the impression of an intense bearing when you first met him, but it was quickly balanced out by his open ultra-honest personality. Even the jagged scars that cut through his right eyebrow and down the side of his face seemed charismatic in their own way, giving him a well-traveled, swashbuckling kind of charm.

“Sorry about Misa jumping on you like that, by the way,” Shirakumo went on with a self-conscious grimace. “It’s been so long since we’ve taken a break from work that I think we’ve all kind of forgotten how to switch off and chill out.”

“No worries, I know how that goes. You should ask Haru what it’s like trying to get me to shut up when we get someone interesting in the studio for an interview,” Hizashi replied, waving the apology away. “I end up annoying myself half the time.”

Shirakumo snort-laughed again. “I dunno, that seems pretty interesting to me. Maybe we could grab something to eat sometime and you can tell me about it instead.”

He said it so smoothly that Hizashi almost agreed offhand without thinking about it. The word caught behind his teeth just in time as his brain caught up with what was actually being said. “Erm. Right,” he said instead, not having to force the awkwardness in his tone. “Haru told you I’m fresh off a breakup, didn’t she?”

Shirakumo flushed. “She...might have mentioned something about you being in kind of a funk,” he hedged.

Hizashi smiled in spite of himself. Two for two on dashing heroes who can’t lie to save their soul, he thought, amused. “I appreciate the offer, don’t get me wrong. But I, uh. I’m not sure it’s a great time for me to have something going on with someone,” he said, trying to be as gently vague as he could.

“Yeah, no, I totally get that,” Shirakumo said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push, I just--”

“Haru made you promise to hit me up at least once tonight,” Hizashi guessed, letting him off the hook of trying to put it into nicer words. Shirakumo grinned.

“Guilty,” he admitted. He paused, then added. “I think she’s been worried about you, to be honest. I mean, Haru isn’t really the worrying type, but you can tell sometimes.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Hizashi agreed, fondness creeping into his tone. For all the shit he gave his sister about meddling and fussing over him, he couldn’t help being grateful for the concern. “It really wasn’t as big a deal as she seems to think, though. We went to coffee a couple times, for drinks, hung out at his place, nothing too intense.” Aizawa’s face flashed to the front of his mind, twisted in terrified fury as he called Hizashi nothing but a problem in his life. Hizashi shook his head. “We just realized we wanted different things out of the relationship. People are people, what are you gonna do?” he added with a breezy shrug.

“True,” Shirakumo said, nodding, as they reached the train station doors. “So, can I maybe platonically give you my number instead?” he asked with a slightly cheeky grin. “I wasn’t just hitting on you when I said it was cool hanging out with you tonight.”

Hizashi hesitated, drowning in irony with no hope of explaining why to Shirakumo. He needed to let Shirakumo down gently and walk away, but his brain seemed to want to help him precisely not at all in thinking of a way to do that. “Sure,” Hizashi said finally, unlocking his phone and handing it to Shirakumo. “I’ll text you the next time Haru threatens to muzzle me for talking her ear off about celebrity gossip.”

“Deal,” Shirakumo said, handing his phone over so that Hizashi could put his number in as well. “Don’t be a stranger!” he added as they swapped phones back and he turned to head home.

Hizashi considered doing just that most of the train ride home, staring down at the newly added “Oboro Shirakumo” in his contacts. As an extra little flourish, Shirakumo had added a fortissimo and a thundercloud emoji after his name. On the one hand, this was a terrible idea and Hizashi needed to lose Shirakumo’s number before he ended up doing something stupid. On the other hand, tempting fate by doing stupid things with heroes was practically his signature move at this point. With Aizawa freezing him out, keeping Shirakumo on deck was the only way for him to stay on brand. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? Hizashi shoved his phone into his pocket, hating the weight of preemptive dread that settled on his shoulders as he tried to preserve this small bubble of normality that had come into his life.

[whatarubberchicken]

The Bodyguard’s Tale -Chapter 5

The sh*t hath hit-ith the fan... ith.

<<Previous - Ao3 or ff.net - Next>>

Chapter 5

It took two more days for the accursed heat—or rut or whatever, Keith had already decided he hated it—to run its course. That was two days of pain and longing and loneliness—Lance didn’t make another appearance, and when Shiro was able to come see him, he kept his visits short because Keith got more and more snappy as the days went by.

Finally, he was able to resume his duties, with no small amount of relief. (And maybe it was just his imagination, but Hunk looked relieved too. Apparently, Lance had been extra snippy as well.) To his surprise, Lance actually gave him the silent treatment for a whole day, even after Keith tried to apologize for what had happened.

The day after that, he went to the prince’s chambers, fully intending to clear the air. Nothing major, he could do this. He just had to explain that he hadn’t been in his right mind, and nothing they’d said or done should be—Wait, where was Lance?

He wasn’t in his room.

He wasn’t in any of his usual haunts in the castle.

“Lance?”

Keith was starting to get nervous. Had Lance actually been kidnapped? During his time here, he’d been led to believe that nobody hated the royal family and his job was purely for ceremony! Surely—

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro called cheerfully, strolling down the halls with another ambassador. Keith wasn’t sure if their name was really Pidge or something else, he couldn’t figure this person out. (But they were from Olkarion, so maybe that was the point? The Olkari did love their puzzles….) “I thought you were with Lance.”

“I’m looking for Lance,” Keith corrected. “Have you seen him?”

The two ambassadors shared an ‘eek’ look.

“He was heading for the space port,” Pidge said. “Said he was meeting you there.”

“Oh, quiznak.” Keith took off running. Once he got to the space port, he searched every passenger vehicle he could find, praying that Lance hadn’t gotten a note from somebody claiming to be Keith so they could kidnap him and—wait, weren’t those the new prototypes King Alfor was designing?

Keith paused in his search to look more carefully. Why was the blue one activated?

Blue just happened to be Lance’s favorite color….

He raced over and entered the giant blue lion (Alfor had said they were a tribute to some kind of ancient Altean lion god or something) just before the jaw snapped shut. Even though Keith had never been in a ship like this before, he somehow knew exactly where to go.

Sure enough, there was Lance, sitting in the pilot’s seat.

“WHAT do you think you are doing?!” Keith snapped, storming up behind him.

Lance looked surprised to see him. “Aww, Blue, why’d you let him in?”

“Are you talking to the ship?!”

“Of course,” Lance said, stroking the side of the chair lovingly. “My pretty girl is very sensitive, you know. Not everybody sees me as ‘just their job.’”

Keith facepalmed. “We’re not even going to delve into everything that’s wrong with that statement—just, get up, we’re leaving.”

“No way!” Lance said, settling himself deeper into the seat. “I was just getting a feel for her!” He grabbed the controls.

“Lance, this is a prototype that your father has been working on for decaphoebs!” Keith pointed out. “Even if he gave you permission to fly it, which he won’t, it’s not equipped for—”

The rest of his statement was cut off by a loud roar, and then Keith was forced to grab onto the back of Lance’s chair as the lion blasted off. Lance whooped with excitement as the space port dwindled away behind them. With so many loops and swoops, even without gravity, Keith was starting to get a little dizzy.

“You are the worst pilot ever!!” he yelled, his teeth jarring together as Lance grazed yet another asteroid. “Did you even take a class on how to fly one of these things?!”

“Of course not!” Lance shouted back, not an inch of remorse in his tone. “As you said, they’re prototypes! And it’s almost like it’s on autopilot—”

“AUTOPILOT AROUND THAT MOON, THEN!!”

“WHOOPS!” The Blue Lion lurched out of the way at the very last second. “Oof, that could’ve been bad.”

“BAD?! YOU ALMOST FLATTENED US!”

“Relax, Keithy! Has anyone ever told you you’re a very uptight kinda guy?” Lance teased, glancing up at Keith from where he still had a firm grip on the controls. “Hey, I know! Let’s take this baby to the Space Mall!”

“La-ance,” Keith groaned, but there was nothing he could do. Blue didn’t respond when he tried to wrench the controls away from Lance. And that was when he remembered King Alfor’s speech about how these ships would choose their own pilots:  if you could get it to start, you could have it. But he didn’t think the king meant for his son to take the thing joyriding! Ugh, maybe he could spin this as some sort of training exercise?!

And secondly, he was kind of offended that Lance still considered him uptight. He’d loosened up a lot since he’d come to live on Altea! Didn’t Lance remember the Klanmüirls? Or the narwhals? None of the other Galra Commanders he knew would ever stand for that sort of thing!

The next thing he knew, they were actually at the Space Mall and Lance was getting out. Great. How was this his life? The good part was, they didn’t need to lock anything, because the Blue Lion put up a particle barrier as soon as they were clear, the bad part was… well, Lance in a space mall was like a kid in a candy store.

He wanted to go everywhere. At light speed.

After the fifth time Lance ran away from him, though, Keith was starting to sense a pattern: light speed was only being used to get away from his bodyguard. He quickly grabbed the prince in the hallway before he could dart off again.

“Look, I get that you’re mad at me—” he started.

“What?! Mad at you? Why, in all the cosmos, would I be mad at you, Keithy?!” Lance said, loudly and sarcastically.

Keith felt his eye twitch. “Can we not do this in public, please?” he asked quietly.

“Why not? Am I making you uncomfortable? Am I—” To Keith’s surprise, Lance cut himself off with a deep breath and a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. I just thought….” He trailed off with another sigh.

“You just thought what?” Keith asked, curious at the way Lance was blushing. No, surely not….

“Nevermind,” Lance said. He spotted something over Keith’s shoulder. “WHAT is THAT??” he exclaimed, pointing. Keith turned to look, only to find himself being pulled into a shop that sold all kinds of things. Knick-knacks, appliances, you name it. And it all came from—

“Earth?!” he exclaimed, as the salesman tried to get them interested in a strange-looking water fountain that doubled as a chair. “All of this comes from Earth??” He was suddenly much more interested in the merchandise. And, oh man, they HAD to get Shiro something!

Lance, meanwhile, was enamored with a large, benign-looking animal that stared out at them peacefully and occasionally said, “Moo.”

“I love her!” he squealed, hugging the animal. “I’m going to take her, and keep her, and hug her, and—”

“That there is a Kaltenecker,” the salesman said proudly. “One free with every purchase!”

Lance’s eyes gleamed.

“You can get ONE!” Keith said quickly, before Lance could buy out the whole store. Lance pouted, but Keith stood firm. “One for now,” he negotiated. “Just to make sure you can take care of her and she doesn’t come with any weird… surprises.”

After a bit more whining, Lance agreed, and for their purchase, they bought Shiro a rectangle with some weird drawings on it that the salesman insisted was an entertainment box. (Keith didn’t see how such a thing would be entertaining, but maybe Shiro would know how to work it.)

Then, Lance was starving, and they had to get some food. Keith agreed, but he didn’t think Kaltenecker enjoyed Lance’s attempts to serve her whatever Vrepit Sal’s had given them. He also had no idea what she was chewing on….

“Is that a cow?” they heard a familiar voice exclaim. Keith and Lance looked over, and sure enough, there was Shiro, heading straight for them. Followed closely by Pidge and an irate-looking Hunk.

“She’s my new Kaltenecker!” Lance said proudly.

“Kaltenecker?” Shiro repeated, looking at Keith.

“I don’t know,” he said, throwing his hands up helplessly. “It doesn’t seem like it’s gonna eat him, so I figured it’d be okay.”

Shiro at least had the decency to laugh into his hand.

“Oh man,” Hunk said, also examining the creature, “I dunno how this is gonna do in the Klanmüirl enclosure, but hey, I’m sure we’ll work something out.” He turned to Lance. “So, bad news, your dad says you’re grounded.”

“Awww,” Lance groaned.

“And good news, he’s so stoked you got a Lion running, it’s probably not gonna be for long,” Hunk continued.

“Yes!” Lance fist-pumped.

“More good news, you activating a Lion seems to have kicked them all into gear, because the Yellow one chose me, and Green chose Pidge here.”

Beside him, Pidge waved absently, looking more interested in the little box they’d gotten for Shiro.

“REALLY?” Lance looked delighted.

“Yeah, so as soon as you get home, we’re gonna have to do a bunch of tests and stuff, but until then, more bad news…,” Hunk bit his lip and looked uncertain. “You guys didn’t just happen to bring Allura with you, did you? ‘Cause nobody can find her or Lotor anywhere.”

Lance sat straight up. “Allura’s missing?!”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hunk said, waving his hand dismissively. “More importantly, what the heck are you guys eating? Is that even food?!” He examined their lunch with expressions that ranged from “interested” to “horrified.”

Lance and Keith exchange a glance that needed no words. Their siblings weren’t the type to just go off without any warnings to anybody, that was their MO. Allura and Lotor were too… responsible. Whatever had happened….

“You’re right, Hunk,” Lance said, quickly. “Let’s get some real food back at the castle! I wanna see who else gets a Lion. You want one, Keithy? You know you do!” he teased.

“No, I’ve got my hands full with you,” Keith grumbled. (Yes, he did. He really did. He’d seen how quickly and effortlessly Blue had responded to Lance’s handling and he was certain he could do better…. Oh, how he wanted a chance!)

“How about you, Shiro?” Lance was asking, talking fast to cover up his nervousness about his sister’s disappearance.

“I thought I felt something from the Black one,” Shiro admitted, still absently petting Kaltenecker. “But King Alfor assured me it wouldn’t move until the others were paired off. Something about it being the leader.”

“Cool! Well, lead on, Captain, Sir!”

“Ha ha, Lance,” Shiro said dryly, as they all headed back towards the entrance. “Tell me, what are you going to do with a cow, anyway?”

“I dunno,” Lance said, giving it another hug. “What do you usually do with cows?”

“I could teach you how to milk it.”

“Really?! What’s that?”

Shiro’s explanation left Keith a little weirded out, but Lance seemed eager enough to try. Not that he got much of a chance. After flying the three Lions back to Altea, they were greeted by an excited crowd in the Lions’ hangar at the space port, all of them eager to try for the remaining two. Black and Red’s shields remained up, however, even when Lance tried to push his way to the front of the crowd.

Keith, already nervous about potential assassins in this crowd, got the signal from Alfor to get his son out of there, and quickly pulled Lance away. It didn’t matter if the prince was complaining that he could hold his own. Nor did it matter that Hunk and Pidge had carefully separated themselves already to try to take control of this mess. Even the fact that Keith could hear a low rumbling in the back of his brain that sounded like purring when he looked at the Red Lion… his first and only priority was Lance’s safety. Altea had already lost its heir today, they didn’t need to lose the spare too.

Fortunately, the king and queen joined them in Lance’s room soon after, before Keith and Shiro ran out of ways to keep him distracted. Queen Melenor ran straight to Lance and threw her arms around him, sobbing. That was the first indication they’d gotten that something was truly wrong.

“We thought maybe Lance had convinced Allura to take him with her,” Alfor said, looking pale and shaken. He laid a heavy hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Thank you for always taking such good care of my son.”

“Sir?” he said, unable to keep his questioning tone to himself.

“What’s going on?” Lance asked, his voice wavering as he started to panic. “Where’s Allura? Mom?! Dad?!”

“All we found was a note!” Queen Melenor burst into tears again and hugged Lance even tighter.

“It seems she and Prince Lotor have spent their time together—when they were supposed to be courting—researching how to get to Oriande,” Alfor said, regretfully shaking his head.

“Oriande?” Lance yelped. “But that’s—that’s a myth!” Keith could tell: now Lance was truly panicking. “And, even if it wasn’t, all the stories say it’s a… a….”

“A one-way journey,” Alfor finished for him. “Which is why, if we don’t find them soon, we may have to declare your sister missing… indefinitely.”

“NO!” Lance cried, wrenching himself away from his mother. Keith quickly caught him in his arms—not tight enough to cage, just enough to ground him—and led him over to a small padded bench nearby. Lance sat, still shaking his head in denial but not trying to get away from Keith. “No, no, no… there’s has to be way—the Lions! Dad, could we use the Lions to get to her?!”

“We don’t even know which way they’ve gone,” Alfor reminded him sadly. “I, too, looked for Oriande in my youth, but I never even came close. I finally forced myself to abandon the hunt when your mother became pregnant. And now, I—” the poor king swallowed and looked away, “I regret every bedtime story I ever told you two about that place.”

Both Lance and Queen Melenor hurried to reassure their king that, no, none of this was his fault. They loved him and they’d get through this as a family. Meanwhile, Keith stood off to the side, watching silently.

Lotor. Lotor was missing too, but instead of being anxious or worried about him, all Keith could think was, ‘Dammit, brother! You’re going to cost us the alliance! What were you thinking?!’

Was that normal? Surely, he should be upset, right? Crying and worried about his family like Lance? Why—why wasn’t he?

He heard Shiro come up behind him and looked over when he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” Shiro asked.

Keith thought about it for a moment. “I’m worried about Allura,” he finally confessed. “And I’m a little annoyed at Lotor. I’m sure he talked her into it, after all. He’s been obsessed with Altean lore ever since we were kids.” He looked at his friend. “Is that…? Shouldn’t I be worried, or panicking, or something? I mean—” Keith faltered. “He’s my brother! I’ve always been loyal, to him and the Empire, but…. Is there something wrong with me?”

“I doubt it,” Shiro said, the knowing smile back on his face. “Think about it. If it was Lance who was missing, what would you do?”

“I’d pull out all the stops to find him immediately,” Keith said, not even having to think about it. “I’d use every resource I had until I found him. No matter how long it took.” His chest constricted painfully just thinking about a scenario like that.

Shiro was giving him that look that said he was almost there in getting the correct answer; he just needed to dig a little deeper. Keith thought about it.

“But… that’s just because he’s my responsibility, isn’t it?” he asked, almost desperately. “It doesn’t mean anything….”

Shiro gave him a much softer smile, his eyes twinkling with laughter. “I didn’t say anything about that,” he pointed out. “But fine, if you want to play that game, imagine if Lance wasn’t your responsibility. Would you still feel the same?”

“I—I don’t know!” Keith exclaimed, much too loudly. It caught the attention of the royal family, who realized the two were still in the room with them.

“Think about it,” Shiro whispered, as King Alfor made his way over to them.

“Ah, Prince Keithyr,” he said uneasily. Keith winced. Oh, right. Now that Lotor was gone, he was expected to take on ambassador duties for the Empire, wasn’t he? This was gonna get awkward. “Our most humble apologies and deepest condolences go out to you and the Empire as well. Forgive me my momentary lapse in protocol—”

Yep. Super awkward.

“Please, your majesty,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall any further ‘niceties.’ “You don’t ever need to apologize to me. Officially, I can’t apologize to you either, but—” he sighed, “unofficially, I want to kick my brother in the….” He trailed off with a vague handwave, very aware that it was against protocol to swear in front of the local monarch.

“Quiznak?” King Alfor finished for him with a small smile.

Keith shrugged helplessly. Yeah. That. Thank God the Alteans had come up with such an all-inclusive word.

“I’ll need to get ahold of the Emperor, to see how he wants to handle all of this….” Ugh, his list of responsibilities had just grown exponentially!

“Yes, I’ll need to make a statement as well…,” King Alfor trailed off, no doubt making his own list of new duties in the light of this tragedy.

Keith only half-paid attention, he kept glancing at Lance. For any other disaster, he’d be over there, making sure the prince was comfortable and didn’t do anything stupid… maybe offer him a friendly shoulder to cry on, or a bowl of his favorite comfort food. Now, all he could do was watch as Lance buried his face in his hands, trying to stifle his sobs.

And Keith hated it.

[absolutely-legit]

Benefits

Warnings: Some NSFW language. And they’re weird

~*~

Jinyoung wasn’t prepared for the sight that awaited him when he pushed the door open without a second thought. He was busily staring down at his phone. “Would you want pizza or chinese?” He asked before looking up from the food-delivery app and scanning the room.

He froze solid on the spot when his eyes found the bed. There, on the blanket, with a Hollywood-worthy deer-in-the-headlights expression lay a boy. A very, very naked boy. He was spread out on the covers, slender legs parted, one hand dangerously close to his boy-parts placed on his stomach and head facing the door.

Jinyoung could only imagine the sultry look he would have put on his face when they door opens. Except, well. Jinyoung probably wasn’t the right person to come through. It took the guy a comically long time to finally scramble up into a sitting position and pull the blanket over his exposed lower body. Jinyoung probably should have turned around immediately and thrown the door shut, but something kept him glued to the ground.

Maybe it was the lingering picture of his naked body, or maybe it was just shock and confusion. It was quiet for a while as they drowned in the awkwardness until the boy cleared his throat. “Pizza.” He said and left Jinyoung confused for a moment. Then he remembered the delivery and dabbed around on his phone, ordering probably way too much for two people. Or three?

“Where’s Jaebum?” they suddenly spoke up almost in synchrony. Jinyoung tucked his phone into his pocket. “I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I thought you were him, I mean… I just heard someone come in and…”

The boy took a few deep breaths. “This is his apartment right?” He asked cautiously and Jinyoung nodded. “And who are you?” The boy shifted visibly uncomfortable. “His uhm… I guess…” Well, obviously, when he was lying nude in Jaebum’s bed. “Are you?” It was then that between the nervous and embarrassed posture something else shone through. “Oh, hell. No. No no.” Jinyoung made, lifting up his hands in surrender. “I’m just like… uh, temporary roommate.”

The boy exhaled a soft huff and his posture slumped a little. “How’d you get… why…?” Jinyoung tried to find words to make any sense of this mess.

“Oh, uhm… I really didn’t know of any roommate. Sorry. He gave me a key for… emergency… But… I was never here actually and I just… Oh god…” He buried his face in his hands in what Jinyoung assumed to be another wave of embarrassment, until he heard a small, pitiful sob. What the fuck.

“Jesus.” He muttered in confusion. “Is everything alright?” The boy shook his head with his hands still clutching is face while he sniffled. Jinyoung carefully made his way over to the bed, awkwardly sitting on the edge. The boy pulled the blanket closer, higher up over his body. “Gosh, I’m sorry.” He whined and rubbed on his face.

“Don’t be.” Jinyoung soothed calmly. “Jaebum is a handful, huh?”

The boy’s shoulders tensed, but he stopped sobbing and eventually looked up. “I don’t know.” He said with a sniff. Jinyoung nodded. “To be honest…” He spoke gently, unwilling to hurt the poor boy further, but he really needed to figure out what was going on. If Jaebum gave his key to someone, you’d think it was quite serious, right? “… He never really mentioned dating someone, so…” Of course he had to witness the boy’s face fall. “W…what’s your name?”

It was quiet for a moment, the boy opened his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. Jinyoung decided to wait patiently, until eventually. “Youngjae…” It was more a whisper than anything.

Jinyoung gave the name some time to sicker into his brain, waiting for a revelation. But there came none. Youngjae seemed to notice. “He didn’t even mention me once, did he.” He said soundlessly, not really a question despite the phrasing. Jinyoung did feel incredibly sorry, but he couldn’t really lie in such a serious situation. So he shook his head and mumbled “Sorry.”

“Would you…” Youngjae’s head piped up with a last spark of hope. “be someone he told?” His eyes were begging for an explanation. “I’m… we’re… best friends.” Jinyoung admitted. Youngjae looked like he was gonna burst into tears, but he just pressed his lips together and went quiet.

“I’m trying to make sense of this.” Jinyoung took charge of the conversation. “How long have you been… dunno… dating?” Youngjae shuddered visibly. He spoke very slowly. “I don’t think we are… actually…” “FWB, huh?” Jinyoung nodded, but Youngjae shook his head. “Just… just the benefits I guess. Without the friends…”

That was very strange, Jinyoung thought, but before he could finish his train of thoughts, Youngjae’s seemed to go in a similar direction. “He’s a playboy, huh? Fucks around a lot I guess. Nothing special.” His voice had a bitter note to it, but disappointment was still evident. That’s what Jinyoung meant. “No.” He answered with a frown. “No, not at all.” Youngjae’s lips parted in surprise. They were pretty. His eyes were pretty, too, even if red-rimmed from crying. His skin looked soft from close distance. He was handsome. Jinyoung studied his face thoughtfully.

If Jaebum had an ideal type, this would be it. “Jaebum isn’t one to sleep around.” Jinyoung stated confidently. There had to be something about Youngjae that was different. “Oh fucking hell.” He cursed and startled Jinyoung with his loud voice. He hadn’t seemed capable of so much volume. “Fuck this shit.” He threw the blanket off and jumped to his feet. “Guess I ruined it. Guess I ruined a nice boy. Whatever.” Jinyoung tried not to look while Youngjae strolled through the room naked, collecting his clothes. “You wanna talk about it?” He offered while staring at the wall and heard a scoff.

“Hell no!” Youngjae huffed. After he was done putting his clothes back on, Jinyoung looked at him again. His cheeks were tinted pink in either anger or shame while he stared back. “I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him.” He explained eventually, back to his softer voice. “I shouldn’t have pounced on him like that. I should have accepted that he never even wanted me, but…” He finally looked away and picked up a bag from the floor. He didn’t finish the sentence. He dug out the key from his pocket. The one that has a pink dinosaur charm attached to it – pretty distinguishable- and he threw it in Jinyoung’s general direction, missing the bed big time. “You can tell him he can go find another hole to nut into. I’m not available anymore.” Jinyoung cringed mildly. “…Or don’t. Like I fucking care.” Then he turned away fully and hastily walked out the door.

Jinyoung didn’t stop him, it was obvious he just wanted to go away. He picked up the key and placed it easily visible on the living room dresser where they put their mail and stuff.

It still didn’t seem to make sense.

Jinyoung was sitting at the kitchen table munching on one of three pizzas when he heard the door open and Jaebum shuffle through the hallway. It was silent for a moment, then Jaebum’s voice carried through the apartment. “Youngjae?!” He asked confused and stumbled towards the kitchen door. He peeked through the doorway and found Jinyoung. “Jinyoung, did you? Youngjae? Is he?” He babbled confused, waving the dinosaur around.

“He’s not here anymore.” Jinyoung answered calmly, taking another bite of his cheesy fast food. “He… not anymore?” Jaebum rushed over and sat on the next chair with an urgent expression. He planted his palms flat on the table in front of him, leaning forward, eyes manic. “Why did he and what happened and how?” He wanted to know.

Jinyoung was seriously confused. “Would you tell me who he is?” He asked, raising a brow. Jaebum had the decency to look ashamed. “A boy, I… I know…” He stammered, visibly uncomfortable. “Was he here?” Jinyoung nodded, unable to bear with Jaebum’s obvious distress. “You mean a boy you fuck?”

Jaebum shifted. “Yes, god, yes. Of course, yes, I admit.” He babbled. “Why was he here? What happened?” Jinyoung stopped eating for a moment to think. “I guess… I suppose he was here for a fuck? Like a surprise fuck?” He offered, raising a brow in question and witnessed Jaebum actually, literally, blushing. “Ah… Aha.”

“If you ask me what happened. I’m not really sure?” Jinyoung kept explaining, but slower, chewing in between. “So instead of you he found me. (Jaebum gasped in shock.) And after learning that me, your roommate and best friend, had never heard from him, he must have realized that you don’t see him as a companion of sorts, but more like… maybe a sex doll? Then he was angry and left. That’s how I see it.”

Jaebum stared at him absolutely aghast. “A sex doll?” he repeated, too shrill to not hurt someone’s ears. "He said that?!” Jinyoung rubbed the ear that was closer to Jaebum with a sour expression. “Well not these words exactly. He phrased it something like: A hole to… fuck. Or something, I don’t know man, but you two obviously got some serious issues.”

Finally Jaebum took his arms off the table and slumped backwards into his chair, eyes dead and he huffed. “He…” He grumbled. “He says… ugh… You know. He’s the one who always wants to fuck.” Jinyoung would really love to say “I don’t caaare.” But he’d lost that privilege when he won the who’s-Jaebum’s-best-friend-competition against Jackson. So he nodded as if he were interested. Now that it seemed the real problem was nothing more than a miscommunication, his interest dwindled quickly.

“I wanted to date him so bad… really Jinyoungie. But, like… we can’t talk for two minutes without him getting into my pants or something. I swear it’s so exhausting…” Jaebum whined unhappily. Jinyoung frowned. “Let me guess.” He sighed, rubbing his temple against an oncoming headache. “You never told him that, have you?”

Jaebum’s head piped up like a puppy smelling a hamburger. “Of course not.” He said dismissively. “And I assume he hasn’t told you that he felt used in return has he?” Jaebum shook his head wildly. “God, are you useless. You’re like a match made in heaven.” Jinyoung reached around the table and dug his fingers into Jaebum’s pocket to pull out his phone.

He didn’t say anything. Just gestured and Jaebum actually complied.

A few hours later, Jinyoung regretted every choice he ever made. He lay on the sofa, curled into his blanket on his temporary bed and stared into the darkness, wishing desperately he was deaf.

“You know I just… AH… tried to… AHH to make you… AH AH AH... want me!” Youngjae’s voice thundered through the locked bedroom door and if Jinyoung had ever thought he had a soft, pleasant voice, he couldn’t remember it. Jaebum and him had been friends for almost 15 years and he’d made it all those times without having to listen to him growl and grunt like a rhino in cardio training. And now those peaceful days were over. All the while Youngjae sounded like a damn porn star. He pleaded for almost anything. (‘Kiss me’, ‘Touch me’, ‘Spank me’, ‘Bite me’).

He didn’t know how people solved an argument over their own fucking, but it was the most disgusting thing he ever heard. They moaned their apologies in between the dull thumping sound of the headboard being pushed into the wall and forgave each other while something crashed and shattered on the floor of which Jinyoung assumed it was the nightstand lamp.

Jinyoung bit down on the corner of his blanket and held back his tears while he shoved a hand down his pajamas.

He’d had to move out of his apartment when he discovered the walls were molding inside and Jaebum had allowed him to stay for a while until he found something new. It’d become too comfortable and cheap and he’d stayed way overdue and kind of stopped looking.

Now he knew he needed a new place ASAP, even before Jaebum took him to the side the next morning and told him just that with the most content face he’s ever had.

~*~

Everything I write is just... Trying to come up with the most ridiculous scenarios. I need a new hobby.