#but if the article were true it would be a huge shift.

[padawanduck]

shocked that post had so many notes????? like not only is it easily fact checked. but it doesn't remotely pass the smell test on any level

like not only is there a republican majority in both chambers, and you need a super majority in order to successfully impeach.

and i cannot stress enough: these republicans aren't even exercising their ability to keep people like Pete Hegseth as Secretary of Defense from being confirmed

like republicans are so busy sucking trumps dick they confirmed as defense secretary a fox news host who has never had qualifying experience. no knowledge on what he needs to know as defense secretary. and also past allegations of sexual misconduct and being drunk on the job

[juniperpyre]

What are your thoughts on gender in the wizarding world? Do you think there’s a strong patriarchy, and if so how do you think it formed?

I feel wobbly about how powerful patriarchy would be in the wizarding world before answering this question. let's see what conclusion i come to lol

table of contents—you could skip to gender in the text if you don't want the connections to the real world and don't need the foundational ideology of my argument

1: where did patriarchy originate in the real western world? & what assumptions am I working off of?

2: gender in late medieval and early modern england & western europe

3: gender in the text 3.1: younger women 3.2: older women

4. conclusions

1. where did patriarchy originate in the real western world? & what assumptions am I working off of?

mona eltahawy called patriarchy "the oldest form of occupation", speaking to the way women & people classed as women (or gender deviant or ungendered) are treated as commodities to own. this BBC article argues that patriarchy was created as a way for the proto-state to leverage control over the population. the enforced social roles of males soldiers & female reproducers made groups bigger & more powerful.

I will take the article's assertion (it's very well sourced) that one of the first instances of patriarchy developing starts about 5,000 ago in Mesopotamia, when records show women disappearing from public life, at face value. then, ofc, in the mediterranean world we "soon" after see the Mycenaeans & Greeks & Romans, in that order, develop, all of which had patriarchal societies—tho to different extents.

as I have stated previously, the wizarding world loves Greek & Roman shit, as does the real western world (and we have! for centuries!). I like to consider their cultural norms, especially as they were interpreted during the Renaissance, when thinking about wizarding culture.

so, yes, the WW is patriarchal, since for at least 1,500 years, but probably more like 4,800 years. and for most of that time there was no wizarding world, just the World, and the WW had the same histories as the muggle world.

2. gender in late medieval and early modern england & western europe

so sorry, you've unlocked an info dump cutscene. it can be skipped.

I want you to imagine the traditional gender roles for men and women in western society. write them down, even. what should women be like? what is the inherent nature of women, if one exists, according to traditionalists? according to society at large? according to you?

in early modern england there was a HUGE shift in the perception of women and gender roles.

in "'The Good and Bad of that Sexe': Monstrosity and Womanhood in Early Modern England," by Alletta Brenner, the epistemological history of womanhood in the middle of the sixteenth to the end of the 17th centuries, is analyzed.

epistemology is about the study of knowledge, so think intellectual history, a history of what ideas and thoughts people are sharing and the patterns of those ideas and thoughts.

long story short: for about 1500 years, western culture regarded women as lesser versions of men, who are the perfect form of humans. male and female were not regarded as opposite, but two versions of the same thing. eve was made from adam’s rib, she’s a knockoff.

“Monstrosity and Womanhood” discusses two cultural differences between then & now that are significant to my argument. 1: people of the middle ages & early modern europe regarded the monstrous as a part of God’s creation, possibly frightening, but not unnatural. 2: women were regarded as too sexually driven, lustful temptresses. this is a stark contrast to the Cult of True Womanhood that we see in the 19th c, submissive, gentle, spiritually included, a soft place for her husband to find comfort in after being in the chaos of the outside world.*

(lily kind of embodies the late middles ages dangers of womanhood & it’s monstrosities in earth after rain.)

so, the answer to “what is a woman?” is changing rapidly right before the WW cuts itself off from the MW. I expect that, since the bio-essentialism of today started in the 19th century, post SoS, there is a significant difference in what the WW settles on.

the changing views on women in the MW are also influenced by and/or create the atmosphere wherein the witch trials are born. midwives and other women who transgressed their gender roles were targeted in the witch trials. the WW reacts to the witch trials by going into hiding (I don't believe this, I think it's part of the WW historical mythos used to uphold their society & it's fucking issues)

*this ideal of womanhood is only accessible by white middle and upper class women. other women are in many ways, monstrous, but they are also degendered.

3. gender in the text

in the books we see multiple examples of sexism, and a large chunk of these examples involve over-sexualization or sexual policing. our entry into WW culture, ron weasley, displays these views multiple times. he does not seem to believe that women are less intellectually or even less physically capable. he also doesn’t have a problem being defended by harry potter or hermione granger, or defending harry or hermione.

3.1 younger women

the threat of love potions is also brought up a few times throughout the books, and they are solely seen as a woman's weapon.

in Goblet of Fire, once skeeter turns on hermione, she asserts in a PUBLIC NEWSPAPER that hermione is possibly using love potions to seduce powerful men (pg 357). this is after harry's friendship with hermione is portrayed, again, in a public paper, as a romance (pg 225). hermione is pretty and smart when she's "with" harry, but when she is associated with a second man, thereby betraying the englishman who must be the hero of skeeter’s stories, she's ugly and smart enough to drug him. mrs. weasley, an adult woman and frequent caretaker of hermione, believes this and is cruel to her, a child.

over sexualization is used as a highly effective weapon against hermione. the WW easily accepts a young woman's sexuality as a threat to the men around her; she is voracious. i'm sure hermione being muggle born does not help.

merope gaunt is also accused, by dumbledore, of drugging tom riddle sr. with a love potion (pg 154 HBP). no evidence is given. we, the reader, are meant to assume the accuracy since dumbledore is making the claim. once again the sexual appetite of a young woman is dangerous. her misdeeds, brought about by choices made clouded with lust, only the short term considered, end up creating a fucking super villain. what's interesting is that this isn't only a belief of the characters in-text, it's the perspective of the author. nonetheless, dumbledore's quickness to blame a young woman's desire for driving her to violence and bringing misfortune, indicates that the sexuality of women in the WW is easily seen as dangerous.

i think this well establishes women's sexuality as a dangerous, insatiable threat in the WW culture. this is clearly a patriarchal ideology. the systematic reinforcement at the nuclear family level becomes clearer when we look at how the weasley brothers treat ginny's sexuality. they, just as men in the MW do, see their sister's sexuality as their business. however, this is not because men are a threat, but because ginny is unrestrained in her expression and exploration of her sexuality. I do not recall anyone ever worrying for ginny’s safety—women are competent and intelligent enough to defend themselves. 

here are two instances from HBP where we see the brothers judging their sister and trying to control her sexuality:

fred and george are selling love potions, but not to ginny, because she's used her wiles to collect enough men. ron is also reporting on ginny’s romantic endeavors to their older, of age, brothers (pg 91 HBP). Is this to leverage additional power and to control her? Later in the book ron doesn't want people to see ginny engaging in sexual behavior because of what they might think of his sister (pg 204). being a slut is bad in the WW too. :/

So, the two young women we focus on the most have their sexuality picked apart and policed.

3.2: older women

What of the older women? 

There are women in positions of authority in the WW, but most of the women who work and have positions of authority are not mothers in canon. The women with the most authority, mcgonagall, umbridge, arguably amelia bones though she is tertiary, are not mothers and remain, in canon, romantically unattached. pre-fudge there is a woman minister, who i imagine was put into power as a part of the glass cliff phenomenon, when shit hits the fan, women are more likely to be hired to oversee the shit hit everyone, and then be blamed. 

Marriage & motherhood remove agency. The important mothers of the series, lily, petunia, narcissa, molly, to a lesser degree alice and tonks, do not have children until they are married. Half of them definitely do not work. two have jobs, tonks and alice, and they + lily are in the order, activities unspecified. 

The lack of women occupying both domestic and public spaces indicates patriarchal control. There are two options. The married mothers we see occupying both spheres are all taking part in the public sphere with their husbands. Even tonks, who works were remus does not, is in the order with him. Mothers & wives are not unchaperoned.

It is also notable how young people are when they get married and have children. This is explained by war in the text. I posit that it’s actually another element of the patriarchal control of women’s sexuality. Since women are insatiable, those that are linked to a man must be kept under a higher level of control to ensure she stays loyal to her husband. Marriage in the teen years is younger than the average in MW in the 1970s (22.8 for women, 25.1 for men). the average age of women entering into their first marriage has consistently been 24 or older in england and wales since the 1550s—it dropped in the 1950s and 60s. 

Sidenote—during WW2 the age of marriage in the UK seemed to stagnate, and then it dropped at the conclusion of the war. 

We don’t have the stats for the WW, but we know james and lily married and had harry before 21, we know from the black family tree that narcissa had draco at the average age of marriage in 1970s MW UK, which indicates a younger marriage. We do not know alice and frank’s ages. tonks actually meets the average age for women in the UK in the mid 90s, but her husband and she are half bloods. it is possible that the average age of marriage in the WW is younger than the MW, especially among the upper classes. 

4. conclusion

The main element of patriarchy in the WW is control of women’s sexuality, because women are too promiscuous to control themselves, and this poses multiple dangers. Love potions, pursuing a man to near death, tarnishing the family name, etc. This has created cultural norms of younger marriage and women, especially upper class women, not working outside of the home once they are married. Women who choose not to tie themselves to a man through marriage may be seen as inherently less sexual, as adult women who do not marry are not put through the same scrutiny as women who express sexual inclinations. 

It is possible that we don’t see the scrutiny adult, unmarried women endure because harry is a child the whole time and does not think about his professors getting their backs blown out on the weekends. It is also possible that the women we see, namely umbridge and mcgonagall, put up a non-sexual persona to avoid this scrutiny, a childish feminine and de-sexed school marm respectively. I’d edge my bets towards the latter. 

Magic allows a significant portion of reproductive labor to be automated, and in the MW reproductive labor is designated to women and made invisible as an element of maintaining the nuclear family to uphold capitalism. Therefore women in the WW are partially freed from this element of capitalist patriarchy. 

Women are not seen as less capable with magic, intellect, or physically, so their voracious sexuality creates a greater threat. The patriarchy in the WW seeks to control their sexualities, but not much else. The desire to keep pure blood families “pure” likely increases the drive to control women’s sexuality in the upper classes. I’m not seeking to make this argument here, but I believe this element of policing would have evolved in the 19th century, parallel to the evolution of the bio-essentialist ideal women of the MW. the reason I am not making this argument here is that this post is long as shit, and making the point requires a lot of details about fascism and the history of the WW and MW.  

I do think patriarchy is “weaker” in the wizarding world, but still exists. Due to the SoS and magic much of the modern elements of capitalist patriarchy did not develop in the WW, instead, elements of the early modern patriarchy were carried over and intensified. At the same time, women in the WW always had a level of agency and power unreachable to muggle women, which carried over to the SoS society. Perhaps magical men treated muggle women how we treat marginalized women in the real world, and continued to do so after the SoS ended. Perhaps the WW is a secret upper class that exploits the MW without muggle’s knowledge. Perhaps.   

I can’t believe I didn’t talk about the witch trials at all. I have thoughts on those! They are forthcoming when i finish the wizarding world & colonial era meta.

[buffyfan145]

Fellowship of Fans have released their take on The One Ring Net's article last week about those major "Rings of Power" season 2 leaks. Was curious if they would and glad they did as it's interesting to hear what FOF has heard too. They actually confirmed some of these they have also heard and they've also debunked a few too, but there are a few they don't know about so could be possible as the show did keep a few things secret for s1. Again we won't know if any of these are true, including what FOF has said, till s2 finally airs later this year. But will say they also included more about Charlie Vickers' screen time in s2 and it's good news as I know some of us were worried about it, and they're suggesting something we wanted to happen actually is. I'll break down their take between what they've also heard and what they've debunked and/or haven't heard at all.

ETA April 2024: A lot of these spoilers have been confirmed as false now including some that were leaked on purpose from Amazon to catch the leakers.

Confirmed:

The first major thing is it is possible Amazon got the ok from the Tolkien estate to use some of "The Silmarillion" to explain Sauron's backstory. This likely is mostly the use of names like Mairon, Mirthrander for Gandalf, Melkor/Morgoth, and show the Valar and Maiar.

There are flashbacks telling Sauron/Mairon's story but they haven't heard anything about what this leak said with the details. Possible the Valar and Maiar are shown on-screen in the opening, similar to Galadriel's opening in s1.

Sauron is in every episode.

Charlie Vickers filmed almost all the flashbacks and FOF seems to suggest that the Halbrand form is the human-like form of Mairon. Like above we might see what Mairon actually looked like fully as Maiar and Charlie is playing him. There likely is a flashback to his time with Adar, as Adar know Gavi Singh Chera's version, that Charlie won't be in but sounds like Gavi is mostly being used only as the Annatar version.

The 3rd actor playing Sauron very well could be Calam Lynch. They have also heard that Sauron will pretend to be Celeborn when he goes back to Eregion too, as well as shifting into Annatar when needed, but will pretend to be Galadriel's husband. They haven't posted this scoop though yet as they were waiting to get more confirmation but it is possible this is correct.

Is possible The Stranger being Gandalf/Mithrander will be revealed in the flashbacks with Charlie's Mairon/Sauron.

Sauron does use his connection to Aule to convince the dwarves to his side.

Tom Bombadil and Goldberry likely will appear.

The One Ring likely is getting made in the finale and Galadriel might make a huge choice for the cliffhanger for s3.

Debunked:

There are no bottle episodes.

Shadowfax will not appear.

Amelia Kenworthy is not playing Celebrian and there is no evil Celebrian, but Amelia's unnamed character is a villain.

That thing about the same actors playing Morgoth and Ungoliant playing Tom Bombadil and Goldberry is false, and they are not the same characters.

While the Valar and Maiar might be shown in the s2 premiere it's not what this leak described.

Things they haven't heard at all:

That Sauron has a son. That was the first time they ever heard this and they think it's false. However they aren't ruling out anything as again s1 did have leaks come out this exact same way and like they said TORT has the right to post these if they want. Will point out too TORT has doubled down on all these leaks, including this one about Sauron's son and that Adar killed him. I posted my other posts how this makes sense and I kind of do want this to happen, so if it doesn't I might write a fic about it as it weirdly works. LOL

So again we'll know for sure once season 2 airs which of these leaks/scoops were true. But again I'm really happy that it seems like Charlie is playing Mairon after all as so many of us thought he should.

[thefirstknife]

Who was the entity that spoke to Oryx? It clearly wasn't The Witness due to the speech patterns.

It was! Once it got confirmed the Witness wrote Unveiling, it confirmed all the rest as well (here's my post with an additional info and a link to the article where the topic was discussed by the writer).

The reason it doesn't match the speech pattern is because the Witness is a manipulator. It is clearly capable of speaking in different ways, to appeal to different types of people and for different purposes. It makes sense as well, given that we now know what the Witness really is; a multitude of consciousnesses merged together, able to shift and change its tone and speech as needed.

I find it really interesting how the Witness shifts its tone. It's fitting the Witness both in what it is and what it is trying to achieve. For example, the way it spoke to Oryx and to us in Unveiling (and by extent to K1 team, sort of) is very casual and informal in order to play on emotions and familiarity because that's what works on us (including Oryx). Guardians, and Oryx too, seek family and friendship, so when speaking to us, the Witness spoke like our cool best friend.

With Rhulk, it spoke with a sort of authority, but additionally with almost a teacher's (or parent's) tone, because those were the things Rhulk struggled with: his issues with authority and his issues with his family and particularly his father. The Witness presented itself to fulfil the roles that Rhulk sought and couldn't find elsewhere. It's also intriguing how in the last page of Rhulk's lore book, the Witness breaks the convention of using plural to refer to itself by calling Rhulk "My child." Not "our;" "my."

Meanwhile, with Calus, the Witness presented itself as some sort of grand deity-like figure, something to look up to and worship, because Calus wanted something bigger than himself to dedicate everything to. To Calus it only mattered that something as incomprehensible and huge noticed him and gave him a task to complete to prove himself worthy. It also turned very demanding and commanding later when Calus proved to be just another glorified pawn; almost like the Witness lost patience and just wanted Calus to do its bidding without all the pretense. This is most notable in the cutscene where Calus questions the Witness and the Witness gets visibly angry and shows Calus the real deal: none of this is for Calus' benefit and it never was.

With Eramis, it started with promises, tempting but commanding as well. On top of that, it played with her feelings of isolation and abandonment, convincing her that there is no other way and that nobody could ever help her. She trusted it because it was all she knew; it was true, to her, that nobody would help. The Traveler abandoned Eliksni and the only way out is for them to take matters into their own hands. Later, she was first discarded like the pawn she was, but when the Witness found a use for her, it freed her and then treated her with more commands. No promises anymore, just commands and threats. She wasn't worthy of a pretense either.

We don't really know how it spoke to Clovis, besides giving him offers and promises, though it's possible that it used grandiose metaphors like the dreams he recorded in his logbook. He believed that "Clarity" sent those dreams so clearly whatever the Witness was using to communicate with him must've been close enough for him to make that mistake. In truth, the dreams were sent by the Traveler trying to stop Clovis from going down this path. It makes sense that the Witness would talk to him that way as well: giving him allegorical visions in which he is positioned as the leader of some sort. Not only is that playing with his delusions of godhood, it's giving him an allegory to solve and feel smart about. Obviously, we don't really know for sure as he never directly recorded "Clarity's" words.

Mara had her own experience as well in which the Witness tried recruiting her by showing her "visions of impending doom" and then trying to coerce her by showing her that she will be relieved. Free of worry, free of the fight against it, she will no longer be tired of the struggle if she joins the Witness as a disciple. Instead of fighting back, she can just embrace it. This is playing with her need to be in charge and in control, something that she lost over time and realised that she's not the leader in this game, but just another player.

So yeah, the switching of speech patterns and tone is very much intentional for a manipulator that the Witness is. It doesn't care about being genuine, it only cares about achieving its goals. And it consists of plenty of consciousnesses to draw from.

[coolwali]

Dream that Elder Scrolls 5 and 6 switched places in an alternate timeline

I had a dream last night that I was transported to a parallel timeline/universe that was mostly similar to our own but had some differences. Smaller ones included stuff like traffic lights being grey, blue and pink, Apple having apparently invented a new kind of pacemaker and COVID happened in 2018 so it was named COVID-18.

The most interesting thing to me was that I found out from my friends that in this timeline/universe, Bethesda released “The Elder Scrolls V: Hammerfell” as the 5th major TES game. I remember pulling up my phone and using Wikipedia to see if that was true and Wikipedia confirmed that was the case (also Wikipedia had a dark mode in this timeline).

It was really surreal seeing posts and videos of people talking about TES5: Hammerfell. People were making references to things in the game I had no idea of. A common one was something about “people missing Yokuda” and everyone constantly talking about how much they are tired of seeing sand and wanting to become Blueguards instead.

As well as making fun of Bethesda for not releasing a new TES game for nearly a decade and making Hammerfell re-releases. And Everybody was confused when I said things like “Arrow in the Knee”, or “Hey, you’re finally awake” since TES5:Skyrim never existed in this timeline.

From what I remember, apparently, TES:5 Hammerfell begins with your character being transported as a prisoner on a ship. This ship gets attacked by a Kraken which gives all the prisoners a chance to escape. The player has a choice here. They can either escape with the prisoners or remain on the ship to help the Empire fight the Kraken. The game branches very differently depending on the choice. The former has you start out as a bandit for the first half of the game with a unique set of quests and characters as well as the support and respect of the local population as a sort of “Robin Hood” figure striking against the Empire but also becoming a major target of the Empire. The latter has the Player being recognized by the Empire for their help and as such, being pardoned for any crimes and being given the status of “Agent” giving them a lot of power and authority and resources of the Empire but being hated by the locals. People apparently were still debating which was the better choice with there being mods to give the player the benefits of both sides without the cons.

I remember there were people discussing what the main plot of TES6: Skyrim would be. There were lots of varied ideas and posts. I remember deciding to post a rough summary of the main plot of Skyrim (with lots of detail on the opening). This sparked a huge ton of discussion and responses. Many people criticized me for having such a slow opening with less choice than TES5: Hammerfell, and how there weren’t any dragons in Tamriel before so it would be weird for TES6: Skyrim to introduce them. But things shifted into overdrive when Bethesda themselves tried to get my post deleted without explanation. People picked up on this so my post gained a lot of traction and attention. Many people speculated I was a Bethesda dev that was leaking legit info. I did comment “No. I just came from an alternate timeline where TES5 was Skyrim” but everyone assumed I was joking. It became a full on meme. There was even a Gamerant Article about it

People did start warning me to be careful as Bethesda would now sue me for breaking an NDA. But I responded with “I told you. I'm not a Bethesda employee. I’m from an alternate timeline. I have no NDA in the first place. Bethesda can’t do anything to me”.

The last thing I remember was I was driving my car across a busy intersection (that I hate IRL) when this black car came out of nowhere, drove over other cars and smashed into my car flipping it over. The last memory I have before my car landed upside down and I woke up was seeing that it was Todd Howard driving the car with a smile.

[florasearlethirdyear]

FMP: Signwriting: Ornament as visual language – communicative decoration By Amy Goodwin. LO1

Easter Week 3

pieces of signwriting not considered to be worthy of being exhibited in galleries, instead being seen as pieces of advertising or branding which effectively communicated their point, and were not viewed as decorative or ornamental-pg.120

fairground art is seen as an extension of signwriting, and it is this technique, when paired with signwriting, that was employed to entice the public to patronize the fairgrounds-pg.120

in the first half of the twentieth century the fairground industry was booming, with many showmen on the road, and towns and villages considering their annual fair day to be the highlight of the year-pg.120

showmen boasted that more people had encountered a piece of fairground art than had seen a Monet painting in a gallery-pg.120

the visual language of fairground art evolved hugely over the twentieth century, responding to futuristic and flamboyant trends and colours, but this article is instead concerned with the following: how they communicate political and social shifts and contexts; how they depict royal, foreign and wild scenes; and how they entice the public to patronize their rides through the language and decor of these signs.-pg.123

fairground art shifted from the folk art world towards communicating more current occurrences.-pg.123

(Fred) Fowle’s style, combining illustrative lettering with ornate scrolling, is renowned in the fairground industry and still, today, 35 years after his death, he is regarded as the master. Trowell (2016) stipulates that Fowle challenged fairground art to capture elements of popular culture. -pg.123

Fowles Work (Google Images):

Rides and Showfronts:

The Victorian Fairground Menagerie Proprietor, E. H. Bostock, upon commencing travelling in his own right, commented that, ‘the first essential to success was a good frontage, and I resolved to do the best with the show afterwards, and I found this policy paid’ (Weedon 1985). In the twentieth century these frontages were incredibly vast and elaborate – this being the visual feature that was designed to entice the public in. -pg.123 Focus of my project!

Ornamental in their design, Fowle uses illustrative lettering, responding to the shapes of the frontage, and emphasizes certain elements: in some examples the name of the ride, in others the owners name, and finally, pictorial elements illustrating scenes that the public were unlikely to have seen first hand, including jungles, as in the Super Jungle Ride-pg.126

A final redecoration in the winter of 1937, to capitalize on the coronation of King George VI, the ride was renamed ‘Royal Coronation Speedway’ (Figure 7). This would have attracted the public for another reason, as it draws on a social context-pg.126

2. Ornate Decor: Carvings & Lettering:

These carvings are either true – wood carvings – or imitated carvings through decorative paintwork.

The wood carvings are commonly seen on show-fronts, as a framing for the painted decoration, and galloper horses.

(on horses) yet though appearing so, it is not purely ornamental. Instead, this paintwork is referencing personal affects of the showmen family: for instance, usually the gallopers names would link to family members; flags and patriotic visual imagery would link to the location/area they travel in; and any initials, framed with scrollwork, are the showman’s.

The language used is directional, enticing the public to patronize. In pre-War 1930s Britain, this wording – royal, famous, original, premier and renowned, for example – would have communicated to the public that the ride in question is worthy of their money.

-pg.126

3. Box Trucks:

the communicative decoration extended to their Box Trucks – the concept being to continue the advertisement and conversation with the public

Here they are more playful in their decoration styles and in the language used – at times, it’s even humorous

fairground art can be aligned to illustration

pg.129

this article argues for how the use of decorative signwriting can exist as both ornamental and communicative-pg.135

Amy Goodwin's work:

Goodwin is a visiting lecturer on BA Illustration at Arts University Bournemouth!

'All her work is undertaken using traditional methods – by hand, using no tape nor digital assistance. Projects completed include restoration and paintwork commissions in the heritage, fairground and circus industries – including steam engines, living wagons and circus lorries – alongside the design and production of one-off bespoke signs, in collaboration with individuals and businesses'.

Reflection, LO4:

Amy has also worked with Giffords circus since 2015...what a full-circle moment! This style is definitely something I want to try. At the moment I lack confidence in my skills and have to be realistic-you don't become a signwriter overnight. But I think there is potential here to capture the appeal of signwriting.

[emergentrelationshipcenter]

Are You Are A Slow Runner Who Has A Bad Relationship? If You Wish Both Of Those Things Were Different, Then Read This Article And Learn The Secret To Transform Both.

I recently read an article titled, “Do you think you run slow? Why being slow doesn’t matter,” written by Jeff Gaudette, founder of the website Runner’s Connect. At first, I thought it was really great for so many athletes who obsess about how slow they are or who criticize their efforts rather than giving themselves credit. Then later, while on a run, I thought about how the main concepts of this article mirrored my own approach to couples who want to create a better relationship.

My takeaway from this article was that there is a huge advantage in thinking positive.

According to Gaudette, most of his athletes show up to train saying two things: “I’m too slow” or “You won’t be able to help me.” Later, when thinking about this article, I thought, wow, that’s what most of my couples say or probably think. They either think that the relationship is terrible or that they cannot do anything to change it. They also compare their relationship to what they see on television or see on Facebook. Do people really share their struggles on social media? My guess is no — similar to how runners only post their highlight reels.

Gaudette goes on to say that he found that the speed of the athlete didn’t matter. Rather, they all struggled with the fear they were not good enough, which in turn, lead to self-deprecating comments and negative self-talk. His solution — the power of positive thinking. I really like this! In fact, it’s similar to what I say to my clients.

From a purely performance perspective, Gaudette says negative thinking negatively affects results. An athlete who has positive self-talk or thinking outperforms those who go into a workout with negative or self-critical thinking. He goes on to say running is the same, no matter how fast or slow you are. This means there is no difference between the runner who breaks 30 minutes for a 5k or the person who runs a 15-minute 5k. Gaudette says there is always someone faster.

So how does this relate to improving your relationship?

First, similar to sports performance, the way you think greatly affects your relationship. If you think your partner is lazy, doesn’t show affection, or doesn’t communicate well, then you start to act as if it’s true. It’s called a “self-fulfilling prophesy.” You might have heard of it. When you think something will happen, then you start to behave as if it did and then that behavior actually makes it happen. Whether you think you are a slow runner or have a bad marriage, you can make it happen!

Something to think about.

Have you ever had someone do or say nice things to you? How does it make you feel? My guess is that you feel good and want to be around them. It somehow even shifts your mood. That’s because positivity feeds off itself. The same is true about negativity. If your partner were to write you a note, bring you a cup of coffee, or go out of their way to do something nice for you, that would be a good thing! What effect would it have on you? What if you set the example and did something nice first?

Learn how to cultivate unshakeable mental toughness to save your relationship.

The next time you start to think about how terrible your relationship is or how everyone has a better relationship, you might do yourself a favor by thinking about what you can do about it and shift your focus. What you think about grows. Instead of doing or saying something critical, say something or do something loving. This will be tough, but it will work! I guarantee it.

If you need help getting your relationship in shape, then check out my couples relationship intensive boot camp options. I really believe that it only takes one positive thought to make a start. Many of my past clients have started with just one hopeful thought — that maybe some coaching will help. What will you start with?

Do you want to learn how to improve your relationship now? Learn more about marriage and couples relationship intensive services.

[antonenglishblog]

Log #4: Journalism

Link to audio: https://voca.ro/1e4cflNDYRlr

A form of language that I will be discussing that I believe is interesting to think about and look at is journalism. Journalism is an interesting form of language because it has so many different topics. The question that pops up the most is how much of the journalism we see, read, and hear, is authentic and reliable vs the false/fake information along with the rumors and speculations that are coming out. The types of journalism that I know more about includes sports, celebrity, and broadcast journalism. 

You would think that sports journalism would be fairly simple. What team won, which team lost. Who signed with who and someone else got traded. Somebody signed a record breaking deal and all things like that. The question is how much of it can we trust? More specifically the reports that aren’t related to scores. For example, I’m a huge Denver Broncos fan and we’ve had a rough patch with the quarterback position. Well before we acquired Russell Wilson, there was a two year period where the only talk was about Packers Quarterback, who may or may not be on the team when you hear this, Aaron Rodgers coming to Denver. The Broncos hired his former offensive coordinator and his favorite target receiver at the time was scheduled to be leaving the Packers as well (Devante Adams of the Las Vegas Raiders). Then it came out that Aaron Rodgers was going to be staying in Green Bay for another season which meant every single source who said they were 100% sure Denver was going to get Rodgers was wrong. Another notable time where this happens is during free agency. Regardless of sport, there are always articles that write on signings before and during the process, which are the false claims/speculations and then the true reports come out after the fact. So, basically the key to sports journalism, at least a certain part of it, is to take it with a grain of salt because most of that is just speculation and rumors. 

Shifting over to celebrity journalism. The question remains the same, how much of this is actual fact and truth vs. rumors and false narratives. A lot of the time, at least in this day and age, there is always drama between certain social media influencers and it is blown out of proportion. I personally don’t read too much about social media influencer drama, but it constantly comes up. One that is currently going on, even though they are more known for other careers than social media, would be the Selena Gomez and Hailey Beiber drama. The media is pretty much split on this and takes both sides. The media also releases stories about what started the drama, how long it’s been going on and how one said something about the other. It’s just a way for the media outlets to use their journalism to create stories that sell based on what may or may not be going on. I’m sure Selena Gomez and Hailey Beiber do have some drama, especially with Justin Beiber, but other than that, it is mostly just false information that is spread as the truth.

The last topic of journalism I would like to talk about is broadcast journalism. I know many of us have seen a news story about either the weather, a significant event, or pretty much anything that news stations consider to be news. There is still the possibility that some of the stories we are hearing could be inaccurate and false. I recall reading about how news stations would use something called a video news release or VNR for short. Now many of these VNRs look like actual news reports aimed at a variety of different things. However, these are reports that were created by public relation firms in order for advertising. It may not come off as advertising but it is interesting to hear about how only certain brand name products are healthier than generic brand products. While a VNR may benefit a company or brand, it will eventually start to make the news channels seem untrustworthy because what is supposed to be real news is just an advertisement being passed off as news. It falls into the category of whether or not we can rely on the news we are seeing and if it is authentic vs. fake news. Which is why some news channels have a fact check option to prove that what they are reporting on is indeed factual. As if they are trying to cover themselves should people start to think what they are seeing is fake or untrue.   

I don’t mean to sound as if I am against journalism because I do think there are a lot of other topics including the ones I mentioned that do have truth to them. I myself would actually like to pursue something in sport journalism because I enjoy talking about and writing about sports. However, the big idea in what I am saying is that idea of being able to understand if what you're reading is accurate and not just something that was put out there to cause a ruckus. I don’t know about you and whoever is listening to this, but I know for me, it does get annoying reading about speculations and false information because then you start spreading false information and then it gets to the point where you won’t know what is real and what is false, at least from the journalism we are interested in.

Composition Process Reflection

The composition for this post vs. some of the others that I have done was a little different. Since this one was an audio related post, I wanted to bring up things that I would say if I were actually talking to someone. The composition for my other posts is more thinking about what would someone be interested in reading and trying to figure out how to express my thoughts through my writing as if I was actually talking. 

[danacolthartnj]

Why Choose an Online Therapist

Whether you’re planning an on-site visit with a healthcare provider or hiring an online professional, it can be challenging to know which one is right for you. There are so many different options out there, it can be difficult to know which ones will work best for your specific needs. However, that’s not to say that there aren’t plenty of options out there. There are so many great options that it would be almost impossible to list them all! So here we are with a brief overview of the best websites and apps for choosing an online therapist.

What is an Online Therapist?

Online therapy is anything that’s done online. You can use an online therapist service to connect you with a therapist who specializes in your specific needs. A good online therapist can be helpful for people who simply cannot get or don’t Ideally, you’ll also have access to a variety of therapy options through an online therapy service. An online therapist can be any type of professional who’s available online. In some cases, it may be a specific field that you seek help in, or it may be an industry that you wish to be a part of.

The Pros of an Online Therapist

The overall benefits of online therapy are many. The ability to connect you with a highly skilled and experienced therapist. The ability to select which symptoms or issues you want to be viewed as “pain”. The ability to choose your preferred opportunity for the therapy. The ability for you to communicate with the therapist almost as if you were there, via online chat or Zoom. Furthermore, the benefits of online therapy are even more apparent when you consider the cost of an online therapy service. While many online therapist services charge a fee for their services, many also offer a free version that you can use as a shift. There are a few things to keep in mind, though, when choosing the best online therapist.

Which Online Therapist is Right for You?

The first and foremost thing to keep in mind when deciding which online therapy service to use is your specificity. The best online therapist will likely be tailored to your specific needs. Typically, this means that the therapist you choose will work with you on the level that you want. They’ll be aware of what type of symptoms you have, and they’ll be able to identify the specific issues that are causing those symptoms. As you can see from the options below, there are many different types of online therapists. Some online therapists will specialize in one specific area, while others will specialize in multiple areas. The ideal online therapist for you will likely be tailored to your specific needs. - Choose from the following types of online therapists: Affiliate platform - Affiliate platform sites allow you to connect with past clients and receive their feedback. As an affiliate platform, your online therapy service will likely be tailored to your specific needs. - Blogger platform - Blogger platforms allow you to connect with past clients and receive their feedback. As a blogger, you’ll likely have access to a large number of topics to choose from. - Zoom platform - Zoom platforms allow you to connect with past clients and receive their feedback. As a Zoom professional, you’ll likely have access to a huge number of therapy options. - Spamming - spamming websites is a sure way to build up a bad name. However, a spamming platform that facilitates true communication is a great solution.

Conclusion

Choosing the right online therapy for you is difficult. There are many different types of options to choose from, and each one could be perfect for you. We hope that this article has been able to help you choose the right Online NJ Therapist for you. There are many different types of online therapy available, and it can be difficult to know which one is right for you. However, the best online therapy is the one you can access from anywhere. It can be from your computer, smartphone, or any other device that you have. It’s important to make sure that the online therapy you choose is tailored to your needs. The benefits of an online therapy are many. The ability to connect you with a highly skilled and experienced therapist. The ability to select which symptoms or issues you want to be viewed as “pain”. The ability to choose your preferred opportunity for the therapy. The ability for you to communicate with the therapist almost as if you were there, via online chat or Zoom. Finally, the benefits of an online therapy are also very apparent when you consider the cost of an online therapy service. While many online therapy services charge a fee for their services, many also offer a free version that you can use as a shamift. There are a few things to keep in mind, though, when choosing the best online therapist.

[blind0demon]

Restless Night

Summary: Falling asleep wasn't usually a problem for you, until it happened to be at the same time when you decided to share a bed with your boyfriend, Miles Quaritch. Luckily, the solution for your sleeping issue lies just next to you. 

Pairing: Na'vi! Miles Quaritch x Gender Neutral! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4K

Author's Note: This is a part two of my work "Center of Attention" Hope you will enjoy this one as well :)

The constant faint sound of the ticking clock became too frustrating for your ears as you signed tiringly and shifted in your mattress yet again. Staring at the time on your phone, you found out that you've been laying like this for over two hours now with no signs of falling asleep soon. Angry, you had no other choice but to scroll through your device in search of something that could occupy your mind enough to finally feel sleepy and drift off. You felt incredibly jealous for the man next to you, who slept like a baby with no care in the world. His chest was moving with the sync of his low breathing and his lips were slightly parted. He looked so peaceful, despite all the things he had to go through on a daily basis.

A grimace formed on your face as you looked at Miles for a while, before turning your attention back on the bright screen. You didn't really care about the negative effect it had on your eyesight as anything was better than staring at the ceiling and waiting for a miracle to happen that would let you doze off. It wasn't typical of you to feel this way so you assumed that the only explanation for your problem was the recom sharing the bed with you tonight. Perhaps you were just excited as it was the first time you did anything like this before or maybe your body was just used to resting alone, without an alien warmth radiating on it all night.You had to admit that it did feel intimidating to lay next to someone who was a giant compared to your form. It wasn't an issue for you before as you spend a lot of time with the guy from the moment when he decided to ask you out. Well, you were glad that at least Quaritch wasn't having any of your problems. All you had to do was to wait.

A few minutes have passed and you were still as awake as ever with your back facing the man and your thumb tapping on the phone as you read a monotonous article. At this point, you would do anything to experience tiredness and fall asleep even if it was to bore you to death. You heard Miles turn in his sleep and didn't think anything of it, too consumed by the irritation buzzing in your mind, before you felt his body brush against your back and his arms wrapping around your neck. Your hands almost let go of your device in surprise at the sudden action and you slowly looked up to see that he was still sleeping, not aware of what he just did. 

Blushing, you thought about wiggling away as it wasn't a comfortable position, almost being suffocated by that huge man when an idea crossed your mind. With a straight face, you pressed your ass against his groin and heard a faint gasp leaving his lips. Your head immediately jolted upwards to see if he woke up but to your relief, he didn't. He felt so nice seated between your buttocks and would definitely split you in two, you thought to yourself as you bit your nail, perverted things starting to flood your brain. The two of you haven't tried getting intimate yet so all you could do is imagine the endless possibilities of how he could blow your mind, especially when he was a recom now.

With the now given strength than he had, he could effortlessly carry you around and anything that he wanted. You would be like a ragdoll for him, completely powerless and at his mercy. Damn it, you really shouldn't grind yourself like this against him, the voice of reason suddenly hitting your head as you were busy with wicked thinking. You forced yourself off of him, feeling cold after his body warmth left your back. It was inappropriate, that was true, but maybe if you could get yourself off, you would finally fall asleep. It wasn't fair that the man was the only one who was able to peacefully sleep while you were struggling. He could as well help you out a bit.

Your eyes stared at Miles for a moment as if to make sure that he wasn't aware of anything before you started to thrust yourself against him, enjoying the feeling of his covered member rubbing against your ass. If only he was awake and able to fuck you open and have his way with your tiny body, that would be enough to knock you out for days. You sucked the air in your lungs at the thought and slipped a hand underneath your shirt to play with your chest, imagining that it wasn't your limb but Quaritch's. His hot, firm touch would send shivers down your spine as he'd play with your buds, lazily twisting the sensitive flesh to hear your reactions.

You bet that he would take his time with you, he loved teasing you all the time so it wouldn't be a surprise if he did that in the bedroom as well. At the same time, he would grind his stiff member against your opening in a promise to rearrange your guts nice and good. Knowing that his manhood was just a few centimeters away from your clothed entrance only made your mouth water further. A muffled moan left your lips as you forced yourself to keep quiet while you put more pressure on the tender skin, abusing it with your fingertips and heavily breathing. The man had no idea that you were squirming beneath his massive physique and touching yourself at the thought of him. Your sex was throbbing at this point, eager for the slightest touch of your fingertips as your things were pressed together to muffle the uncomfortable feeling.

You decided not to edge yourself further and give in to your desires, moving your other hand down your stomach and under the material of your pants. The feeling of your fingers starting to form a pace brought another groan out of your throat and this time, you couldn't care anymore if Quaritch heard you. You were too consumed by the building up pleasure, too anxious that if you'd stop for just a moment, it would disappear for good. The man's shaft slowly grew harder as your soft ass kept grinding against it while his fingers slightly twitched at the unknowing stimulation. It felt even better when his thick tip was now pressing against your sensitive opening, hungry to push into your tight insides.

You could only dream of it, too drunk by the ringing ecstasy in your system as your hand worked hard to satisfy you, coaxed in your fluids. More, just a little more, you kept telling yourself, your hips now rapidly thrusting against Quaritch's body to squeeze every bit of pleasure that you could get. You were a mess now, desperate to reach your finish, driven by the thought of how good you would feel in a moment. Your face was red and you were gasping for air while your back was arching uncontrollably by the waves of pleasure hitting you one after another. Right, just a second and you will meet the greatest bliss in ages, just a bit more before you can finally finish and-

"(Y/N)... What are you doing?" His voice rang in your ears that broke you out of your transe and you stopped everything you did. Oh shit, you're fucked. You turned your head towards the source of the sound and were met with his yellow eyes looking down at you as he rubbed them tiredly. "Uh, nothing" You tried to say as casually as you could, not coming up with a more believable response as you squirmed away from him. All you had to do was pray and hope that he won't catch up with what you just did but it wasn't too hard as you looked like you've just ran a marathon. You stared at Miles in horror, your heart stopping in your chest as he took at your form, heavily breathing and slightly shaking.

Not only were you caught touching yourself, you didn't even get to climax, great. "You know, I understand if you would play with yourself when you're alone and it's completely normal, but doing it right next to me? You are bolder than I thought" He chuckled in amusement, his voice still raspy as he just woke up. "It can get quite boring when you can't fall asleep" You answered frustrated, the throbbing feeling between your legs still letting itself know to you. The man pretended to look sad and leaned closer to you, making the bed squeak as he shifted his body weight above you. "Poor thing, and you thought that this could solve the issue? Should've woken be up to help you, sweetheart" He cooed, his finger tracing over the soft skin of your face, taking in your fucked out expression.

You looked absolutely wrecked right now. "Didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep" You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Well, now you left the two of us with a problem" Quaritch commented and pressed his groin against your thigh, letting you feel the hard erection covered under his pants. You didn't think that he could get this excited just by your slight movements against him, especially in his sleep, it turns out that you're wrong. At least now, he has no other choice but to satisfy the two of you. "And what are you going to do now, Colonel?" You asked seductively, your fingertips tracing the back of his neck which sent a shiver down his spine. "Do what I do best" He answered and kissed you, taking a hold of your jaw to immediately deepen the kiss.

You moaned as he forced his tongue inside you, the sheer size making you gasp for air as he roamed your wet cavern. The effect he had on you was unspeakable, just with a kiss, he was able to make you fall on your knees for him. You sloppily returned the gesture while your hands held onto his broad shoulders, nails digging in his blue skin. His other hand roamed your stomach and chest, so big that he was covering almost the entire space. At least he could map every single centimeter of your body. He took off your shirt and you gasped when his hand moved down your back and grabbed your ass, squeezing it in his hand as he continued to assault your mouth.

He had no problem with lifting the lower part of your body and placing you against him, his stiff member digging into you against the fabric. "So sweet of you to get this excited just by thinking about me" Quaritch said with a smile, eyeing your throbbing sex that was clearly visible underneath your pajamas. "I might have also thought about you sometimes when I was alone in my room in a rather… intimate way" The man confessed, recalling the night before he asked you out, his memory still as fresh as ever. Now, the moment he was waiting for finally arrived and he won't wait any longer to devour you.

You flinched at his iron grip on your hips that was threatening to desecrate your most intimate regions, suddenly a bit embarrassed of what was about to happen. Sure, you waited for this moment for quite some time and were eager to get it done as well but you couldn't help but shy away as his predatory look ate you alive. His hands tugged at the corners of your pants and before you could say anything, Miles swiftly took them off of you along with the underwear, letting your skin hit the cool air. You were now naked under him, your skin still hot from your previous ministrations and Quaritch's touches as you laid on the soft bed sheets. 

"Absolutely beautiful" He commented and leaned above you, his two fingers rubbing against your lower lip, asking for entrance. "Open up, sweetheart" Miles whispered with a heated voice and watched as you willingly parted your lips and let his digits slide inside of you. They were long and girthy, big enough to fill up your entire mouth as they lazily brushed against your tongue that was eagerly licking them. He played with muscle for a while, making sure that his skin was soaked enough with your saliva and pushed them further down your throat, making you gag at the sudden action.

The man let out a deep laugh as you tried to keep yourself together as they slipped up and down, before pulling them away from you. You coughed when your throat was released from his flesh abusing it and felt his index finger pressing against your opening. You felt pretty nervous at the sheer size that was at least twice as big as a normal human digit and gasped when he forced himself inside of you. "It's alright, all you have to do is relax" Miles whispered in your ear while slowly stretching you out as your hands dug into his shoulder, attempting to do what he asked you to. Calming down wasn't exactly the easiest but you tried anyway, growing used to the feeling of him now fully seated in your insides.

It hurt slightly but when he started to form a steady pace, you grew accustomed to him and the uncomfortable sensation began to disappear. A moan escaped your lips when you gave into the pleasure, bucking your hips against his hand as he worked on you. Encouraged by your noises, Quaritch launched an attack on your exposed neck, showering it with open mouth kisses. His tongue was hot and wet as he licked your warm skin, occasionally sucking on it to your approval. Soon, he added another finger to open you further, pushing them all the way till his knuckles touched your ass, amused by how easily you took him.

He thought that he wouldn't grow any harder yet he did as he felt your muscles squeezing around his digits so tightly. His mouth salivate at the thought of how good you will squeeze his throbbing member in a moment. Miles tried different techniques of stretching you out, enjoying every moan coming out of you whenever he changed it. Your toes curled whenever he hit a specific spot deep in your body as you held onto him, engulfed in the pleasure as you expressed your desires to him, babbling something about how good he made you feel and how you craved for more. His name kept rolling out of your tongue as he fucked you open, abusing your entrance to its limits in order to lengthen your bliss.

When he sensed that you were ready, Miles pulled out of you, staring down at your devastated form, a toothy grin creeping on his face as he swayed his tail in excitement. Still heavily panting and trembling, you watched as he slowly undressed himself in front of you, his muscles flexing as he proceeded to toss off the shirt over his head and his fingers immediately resting on his pants. He took pride in noticing your eyes widening at his pulsating erection that sprung from his boxers as he stripped himself of the last bits of fabric. It felt heavy against your stomach as it threatened to rearrange your guts.

"Are you sure this won't send me to the emergency room?" You asked in horror, making him laugh in response as he took his manhood and gave himself a few strokes. "It will fit just fine, don't worry" He reassured you, but you weren't having any of that. His shaft was enormous, in sync with the size of his body and you knew that taking him will be quite a challenge. "Lay on your stomach, sweetheart. I want to watch your ass while I fill you up" Quaritch commanded you in a raspy voice, his chest rapidly rising as he kept pleasuring himself. You swallowed nervously but complied, turning around and letting him lift your hips up.

Not being able to fully see him made you even more anxious but also excited. Your hands gripped a nearby pillow to brace yourself for what was about to come and you noticed your phone laying next to it. All of this started because you couldn't just keep on scrolling through it until you felt tired enough. You sucked the air in your lungs as you heard him spit on his member to make it wetter before pressing his heavy tip against your opening. "Miles!" You whined, when you felt him push his girthy length inside of you, forcing your walls to part and adjust to him. Damn it, you knew that he was big but not that big. The intrusion hurt like a bitch but it was the uncomfortable feeling of how much of him was filling you up that was the problem. 

"It's ok, sweetheart. We're taking it slow, alright?" Quaritch reassured you, before kissing the side of your face in an attempt to soothe your pain. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes but you nodded anyway, knowing that soon the ache would disappear. The man started to thrust his hips against you, making sure to go at a slow pace to get you accustomed to him. Each time he slammed in your insides, his member went further inside of you, splitting you more than before. His palm grasped your neck to keep you in place as his thumb drew small circles on your skin. Miles growled each time your small ass sucked him in, watching his veiny manhood disappear each time he pushed himself against you.

You felt just as good as he imagined when he masturbated to the image of the two of you getting it done and now it was finally happening. His ears picked up the change in your voice as you were no longer growling in discomfort but moaning underneath him, your fingers digging into the soft material of the pillow as he railed you. The slow pace wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to ruin you, making sure that you knew how much he desired you from the moment he laid eyes on your frame. You cried out when he started pounding into you, his hips colliding with your ass as his strong arms curled around your waist with a bruising force.

"Wait, Miles! Not so.. fast!" You mumbled in between your whining, not sure if you could take the inhuman treatment he was delivering to you. "Really? I think you're enjoying yourself just fine, sweetie. Look how your body clenches around me. It's like it was made to wrap around my cock" He breathed out, drowning in the immense pleasure and continuing to hungrily slam his thick member inside of you. You were so bloody tight around him, making it barely possible for him to move in and out of you. It was torturous, yet you didn't protest, too immersed in the experience as well, your mouth hanging and only moaning his name as he pounded you like a woodpecker.

His tip brushed against every weak spot you didn't know you had as you felt every vein and ridge of his shaft rubbing against your walls. You will definitely have trouble walking afterwards, most likely sore from his ministrations. His hand rubbed against your back, sensing your muscles tense underneath his skin as he claimed your body, marking your hips with purple bruises as he held you. Everything about you made him grow animalistic, your captivating scent filling his nostrils, your broken voice calling out for him and your clenching walls squeezing him out of every worth he had.

All of your senses seemed to fade away as he kept driving into you, the only sounds you heard were the wet noises of skin meeting skin and the bed squeaking under the weight of the two of you. You had no idea how it didn't break as Quaritch was quite a big guy and the pace he set was inhumane. Your legs twitched each time he thrusted into you as your bodies collided with each other in a hungry dance for pleasure. You felt overwhelmed with ecstasy, each of his movements squeezing you out of your oxygen. You felt like a wreck underneath him and ready to burst at any moment, his raw penetration and throaty groans driving you insane.

He was basically laying on top of you now, holding himself still with one hand and digging into the soft flesh of your waist in the other. His hot, feverish breath hit your neck as his massive body caged you to the mattress, controlling you to fit his erratic thrusts, hitting your squelching insides as his member drove deep inside of you. You were lost and judging by the obscene sounds Miles made, he was as well, prompting your walls to tighten around his enormous length each time he changed the angle of his entry. Your reaction didn't go unnoticed, a deep moan leaving his lips as he increased his hard movements, savoring the wave of bliss. 

The sudden stimulation sent you over the edge, making you moan as your climax jolted through your system and pulsing through your veins. Prolonged by his hips continuously rolling against you, you were left a whining wreck that kept groaning against the pillow to muffle your noises at the overstimulation. After a moment, you felt him falter, fingers digging into your hips as his whole body went into shock as he growled, finishing deep inside of you. You shuttered when his warm fluids entered your insides, settling in your guts and pouring out of you as he kept still, making sure that you took every drop that left him. Sighing in relief that it was finally over, you rested your head on the mattress, coming down from the high of your orgasm. 

Quaritch leaned against you for a moment, trying to collect himself as well, with his shaft still stuffed inside your ass. After a while, he slowly pulled out of you, watching his load escape your entrance and pour down your legs as you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He laid down next to you and pulled your body on top of him, enveloping you in a warm hug. You could feel his calming heartbeat against his firm chest as he rubbed your back in a comforting gesture. "Feeling tired now?" Miles asked with a smile and looked down at you. You only managed to slightly nod your head, murmuring something under your breath before closing your eyes. He knocked the living daylight out of you. All you could do is relax under his soft touch, letting your organism calm down from the intense activity. You heard the man say something snarky to you but you were too drenched out to come out with any sort of response, all the sounds around you started to disappear as you drifted off and finally fell asleep. 

[jadequeen88]

Accidental Valentine

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This is my fic for The Citrus Dome Server Lover’s Day Literature Collab! Please go check out The Masterlist and support all of the amazing artists and writers that have contributed.🖤

A/N: WHEW guys... I don’t think I’ve put this much work into a fic EVER. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about my body and wanted to write a reader who struggled with it as well. Who better to boost your confidence than DILF Kiri feeding your praise kink?! I was heavily influenced by this amazing drabble by @rat-suki​ and got permission to use it as my inspiration for this fic.🖤 (for reference, reader is 30 and Kirishima is 42)

Thanks to @afictionalwhore and my dear friend Orchid for the beta read!🖤

RetiredProHero!Kirishima x YoungerF!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: size difference, oral (both receiving), daddy kink, praise kink (lots and lots of praise), TBH the sex is pretty vanilla but very passionate, both are insecure about their bodies.

When you trudged into work this morning, you didn’t ever dream of meeting your childhood idol/crush, but here you are, staring up at a beautiful mountain of a man. Eijiro Kirishima, or retired pro hero Red Riot, had never come into your coffee shop before and you’d never imagined he would. He was huge. Nearly 7 ft tall and built like a brick house. His hair was back to his natural black with flecks of silver at his temples and hung long and wild around his shoulders. He had on a pair of glasses and wore a dark maroon sweater and jeans.

Even though he’s aged, he looks just as handsome as the young man you fell for as a girl.

The year he made his debut, you were only six, and like most other six-year-olds, you idolized the pro heroes. Most of your friends loved Deku or Dynamite, but you always loved Red Riot. His smile, warmth, and his fiercely protective nature made your tiny heart burst with admiration. Throughout his hero career, you kept up with all of his interviews, the battles he’d been in, the awards he’d won, and his hero rankings. You’d also gotten as much merch as possible over the years and still wore your worn-out, oversized Red Riot t-shirt to sleep in. When he retired a couple of years ago, you still scanned articles online trying to gather bits and pieces of information about the hero, but he wasn’t one to seek out the spotlight. You think that’s probably why he’d always been your favorite. He was a true hero. Serving the citizens and keeping them safe was his top priority. You didn’t want to admit it, but you kept up with him for one main reason… You wanted to know if he was seeing anyone.

You remember being eaten up with jealousy when you’d see his arm around another woman going to galas and award ceremonies. Your sixteen-year-old brain knew that of course, he’d date women. He was a grown man and a pro hero. But your heart would ache, wanting to be the one his soft eyes and pointy-toothed grin was fixed on.

Now those same eyes were fixed on you, his mouth moving and forming words, but you were too star-struck to hear what he was saying. When you snapped out of your daze and remembered you were supposed to be taking his order, you were mortified.

“I-I’m so sorry sir! Could you please repeat that?”

“Sure thing!” his bright smile was hypnotizing, “Just a venti-sized flat white. Have you had your coffee yet? Ya looked a little far away there for a second, kid.”

Your heart leaped at the little nickname. “Yeah, sorry about that! I guess I should get a couple of shots of espresso in me before I try to be productive.” You chuckle nervously as you scribble his order on the cup and turn to make his drink.

“Oh, uhh…” he peeks around the counter to get your attention, “Do you need my name? For the order?”

You freeze realizing you forgot basic, barista 101 etiquette…

“Actually,” you face him, a sheepish grin on your face, avoiding eye contact, “I know your name. You… umm, were my favorite hero,” you blush, and your eyes widen in embarrassment, “you know when I was a kid...”

You turn back to your work, kicking yourself for being so awkward. 

“Really? I think you’re the first person to recognize me since ya know,” he circled his head with his pointer finger, “I stopped dying my hair..”

You turned your head to peer up at him through your dark lashes, a light dusting of blush still on your cheeks, “Well, I like it. It looks good on you.”

The retired pro’s heart was bursting at how damned cute you were. Was this pretty, young girl… embarrassed? Over him?! He watched your tiny hands move as they worked on his drink order, wondering how small they’d feel grasped in his massive ones. Your soft hair caught in the sunlight making you look like a literal angel and he sighed. You reached up to grab a canister from the top shelf and a sliver of soft skin between your t-shirt and jeans peeked through. His gaze became far away and he damn near drooled at the sight. Just how long had it been since he’d touched another woman? Kirishima wasn’t one for casual flings. He always got too invested in whoever he was seeing. So when he and his long-time girlfriend broke things off a couple of years ago, he wasn’t rushing back into the dating scene.

However, things were a little more… complicated than just not finding the right girl to commit to. He was getting older and it was starting to show. Over the past few years, he’d lost his confidence. He’s bulkier around the middle no matter what workouts or diets he tries. Overuse of his quirk has caused stretchmarks and scars all over his skin. He was starting to get crow’s feet and he was overall just TOO big and TOO hairy. He felt like some sort of gorilla walking around in human clothing. Kirishima isn’t stupid or trying to fool himself. A young, gorgeous thing like you wasn’t looking for anything from an old, washed-up man like him. But, fuck… It was nearly impossible for him to move his gaze away from your ass… Oh, the things he’d do to you if he were a few years younger...

You turned to look over your shoulder and notice his gaze… and it’s apparent that he’s checking you out. He looks like a man starved, eyes glued to your ass.

“Well, well, well… maybe he wasn’t so annoyed with my fangirling after all.”

When he realized you’d gone still, his eyes met yours and he quickly averted his gaze. His cheeks turned as red as his hair used to be. You busied yourself with the milk steamer to hide your big, goofy grin. With a new burst of confidence, you decide to take a chance and when you go to write his name on his to-go cup, you write

 “Big Red <3” 

You pause, bite your lip, and think to yourself, “why the hell not?” as you scribble your number underneath the nickname. You turn to give him his drink and your nerves almost make you retreat and make a whole new drink. Then he meets your gaze and your world stops spinning. His vermillion eyes crinkle at the edges as his scared lips turn upwards into a syrupy sweet smile.

When Kirishima takes his drink from you, your fingers brush his for the briefest second and he can tell they’re trembling. “Oh no, I hope I haven’t made her nervous or uncomfortable.” He wanted to go crawl in a hole… That was until he saw what you’d written on his cup.

He stammers, looking from the cup to your face like he’s checking to see if you’re pulling a prank on him or not. Before he can say anything, you bite your lip and look up at him. 

“I’m off work this Sunday. Just… if you’d like to hang out or something.” your gaze shifts and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

After a moment or two, his face lights up in a huge grin. “Y-yeah, great!” he turns and walks a few steps, then turns around and motions at the cup, “So… I should just, ahh… text you?”

You giggle and it’s the sweetest sound he’s heard in a long time, “That would be nice, yeah.”

“Okay, great!... Talk later then!” He waves and leaves the coffee shop, feeling light as a feather and ten years younger.

*****

Sunday rolls around and you spend the morning making sure the place is cleaner than it’s been in weeks. Your place was small but cozy. For a fleeting moment, you’re a little insecure about how modest your apartment is. You don’t know exactly how wealthy pros are when they retire, but you know he’s more familiar with much nicer places than yours. You decide he probably knew just what to expect on a barista’s salary and tried to put it out of your mind. You checked on the cookies baking in the oven. When you found out through your text conversations that he loved chocolate chip cookies with the large chunks of dark chocolate baked in, you went out and bought everything to make them the same day. You kept watching over them like a hawk to avoid burning them. They still looked pretty gooey, so you decided it would be safe to get changed into something a little nicer. Just as you were about to turn the corner into your bedroom, your doorbell rang.

“Shit!” you looked at your phone and sure enough, you let time get away from you. He was here and you were still in your cropped leggings and t-shirt, sporting a messy bun and dirty apron. You groaned as you realized you couldn’t leave him on your doorstep while you changed. Defeated, you hurried to the door.

You opened the door, hoping that you at least didn’t have flour in your hair, and looked up into the much larger man’s eyes. The realization that THE Red Riot was standing this close to you made your stomach flutter and a goofy grin slide across your face. While you stood there star-struck, he broke the silence.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here!”

“Oh!” you jumped a little then promptly ran over to your oven, “Sorry! Please come on in!” you said over your shoulder as you were pulling your oven mitts on. 

Kirishima walked into your cozy apartment and instantly felt at ease. He couldn’t pinpoint just what it was, but something about your place felt more like home than any place he’d ever lived before. As he finished scanning your apartment, his eyes landed on you taking the cookies out of the oven. The comfortable, domestic feel of the place coupled with your ass on full display as you bent down to remove the cookies from the oven had his jeans tightening. You stood up and he averted his gaze before you turned around, not wanting to get caught checking your ass out for a second time.

“Fair warning, I’m not a talented baker by any means,” you removed your oven mitts after placing the cookie sheets on the cooling rack and flashed a sly grin his way, “But when Red Riot tells you what his favorite cookies are… Ya kinda gotta make them, right?”

Oh… If you only knew how pent up this man was… he debated bending you over right then and there and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. He really hit the jackpot with you… a hot, younger woman with the perfect ass who bakes him cookies and for some reason thinks he hung the moon? Kirishima would have given you a ring right then and there if he didn’t think it would scare you off.

“Well,” he radiated warmth as he looked between you and the cookies cooling on the rack, “If you’re not the sweetest thing! I, ahh… might have gotten you a little something too.” he then held up a 6 pack of your favorite cider. “Because when Y/N, L/N tells you what her favorite cider is… Ya kinda gotta get her some.” he winked and you felt your knees buckle and your cheeks burn. You felt like you were in a fairytale.

Then you remembered that the princesses in fairytales definitely did not wear flour-riddled black leggings, old t-shirts, and dirty aprons.

“OH! Umm, I need to go get cleaned up. I’ll only be a minu-” his massive hand wrapped around your wrist as you walked past him. It covered half of your forearm and a shudder ran through you. You wanted those giant hands to roam every inch of your body.

“Please don’t,” his eyes were half-lidded and his voice was low, “...I think you look beautiful like this.” his calloused thumb traced little circles on your skin not meeting your gaze. His deep voice was impossibly tender.

Now that you’d felt his skin on yours, you couldn’t contain your churning desires any longer. You wanted, needed, more. Rising up on your tiptoes, you curled your fist into Kirishima’s shirt collar and pulled his face toward yours.

You felt him tense up for a moment, then relax into the kiss. His massive hands found purchase on your hips, digging into the pliant flesh there. A needy whimper caught in his throat spurring you on to deepen the kiss. 

It was like your bodies were working around each other in perfect harmony… lips parting at a slow pace, like honey dripping from the edge of a spoon and tongues meeting in the middle to taste each other. You both savored the kiss for as long as you could, eyes lazily drifting open and shared breaths causing your hearts to dance out of your chests. 

You saw him falter, his gaze dropping, and you feared that you overstepped. 

“Kirishima I-“

“Ejiro,” he stopped you with a hand against your cheek, “Call me Eijiro…” his thumb caressed your bottom lip slowly, back and forth. His touch held so much devotion in it.

“Eijiro…” you sighed, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “I need you…”

The giant of a man before you swept you up into his arms and began walking down your hallway. You quickly wrapped your arms and legs around his hulking frame as if you were climbing a tree. 

“Second door on the right,” you were panting into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it. 

You blew a cool stream of air along his damp skin and felt him shudder. A giggle bubbled up from your chest at being able to weaken a retired pro-hero known for being a human shield against the worst villains Japan has ever known. Your little stunt resulted in a grunt and a firm, warning squeeze to your thigh.

“So that’s what we’re doing today, huh?” he tosses you on the bed just hard enough to make you bounce up a little… then he’s on you, placing light kisses all along your neck as he prods your sides looking for a ticklish spot. You can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard and the fact that it was your idol drawing it from you made you dizzy with joy.

“Mercy! Mercy!” you were breathless and your abdomen ached from the forceful laughs Ejiro was pulling from you. He blew a raspberry on your neck as a final tease then relented, sitting up to meet your gaze.

You were absolutely smitten. You caressed the lines around his eyes and the scar that split his lips as your eyes roamed across his features. Every crease, every scar… you wanted to kiss them all. When his gaze faltered and he pulled away to sit beside you on the bed, the feeling you’d done something wrong resurfaced. You sat up beside him and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Eijiro…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry, I know I can come on a little strong sometimes, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just…” your eyes meet and his gaze is unreadable.

“No, no…” his ruby eyes drop to the floor, “It’s just that,” he chuckles nervously, “Well, it’s been a while. I’m not very good with casual flings and the like. So I don’t really date much…”

You rise to your feet and move to stand in front of him. Sitting in front of you on your bed, you’re only slightly below eye level with him. You place your tiny hands on his thick thighs and nudge them apart so you can slot your hips between them.

“When I told you that you were my favorite hero,” you reach for his wrist and remove the hair tie from it, “What that actually meant was that I’d watch the news every day just to make sure you were safe.” 

Slender fingers move through his wild mane of silver-flecked hair untangling any knots, “It meant that when that villain with the sludge quirk put you in the hospital for a couple of days, my mom let me stay home from school because I was so distraught,” you pulled all of his untangled hair to the nape of his neck and began wrapping the hair tie around it.

“It meant that my silly sixteen-year-old heart would ache when I saw you hand in hand with a girl in a magazine going out on a date,” you grinned at how silly you felt admitting that. Once his hair was secured in a low ponytail, your hands trailed along his broad shoulders.

“Now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I’ll get to the point.” your intense gaze held years of longing for the hero in front of you, “Nothing about this is casual for me.”

Tears pricked the corners of Kirishima’s eyes. Had anyone ever showed him this much tender devotion? All the years he’d taken beating after beating, a glorified human shield, content with leaving most of the game to his friends. He was all rough edges and bulk. He was the one doing the protecting every time. Even in his romantic relationships, he was the one who would give, and give, and give… never asking or expecting to be taken care of. Being handled with such care was utterly foreign to him and it stirred up a deep need he never knew was there.

“Eji…” his glassy eyes met yours, “Can I take care of you?” you sank to your knees, hands sliding up his thighs.

“Please…”

Your hands made quick work of his button and zipper. He shifted his hips upwards to help you ease his jeans down his thick thighs and you pulled his jeans and boxers down in one slow pull. Nothing would have prepared you for just how huge he was. Your eyes widened for a fraction of a second, wondering how you’d get that thing to fit inside your cunt, much less your mouth… but it was something you were eager to find out.

Looking up at him from under your dark lashes, you made a show of lewdly licking your lips. You flattened your tongue and drug the wet muscle from his base right above his neatly trimmed patch of black hair, all the way to the swollen, red tip of his head. You felt the powerful muscles in his thighs clench as his head rolled back and a delicious moan escaped his open mouth. Making your hero come undone with one lick to his cock was intoxicating. 

“Fuck, baby…” Kirishima fisted the sheets praying he wouldn’t come just from your teasing. He’s not sure his pride could handle it. It became a very real threat when he dared to look down at you kissing and licking all up and down his length. Once your mouth had gotten him wet enough, your soft hands joined your warm mouth in worshiping his cock. You met his gaze as you kissed his tip and licked up the pre that was escaping in pearlescent beads. When you had teased him to your contentment, you swallowed him down as deep as your throat would allow, wrapped your hand around his base, and moaned.

Kirishima had many blowjobs in his life. In fact, he’d had some that he would say were pretty amazing… but in all his adult life, he’d never been so thoroughly and enthusiastically devoured like this. He threaded his fingers of one hand in your loose bun and fisted your bed sheets in his other to ground himself. After a minute or two, he felt his release creeping up much faster than he wanted.

He placed his hands on either side of your face causing you to stop bobbing your head and look up at him. He ran his thumb against your swollen bottom lip and you leaned into his tender touch. He bends forward and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Lay down on the bed,” he whispers into your hair. Nerves starting to catch up to you, you shook slightly as you stood from your spot on the floor. Before you lay down, you remember to take your apron off then lay on your pillows, heart pounding awaiting further instruction.

Kirishima hovers over you reminding you yet again just how tiny you are compared to him. His warm hand covers your knee and slowly travels up your thigh, stopping right before he meets your throbbing core. He runs his hand back down your thigh to gently nudge your knees apart. Leaning on his forearms, he positions himself between your thighs and you gasp at the friction created where your bodies meet. While planting tender kisses on your neck, he whispers, “I need you to promise that you’ll tell me if I need to stop or if something doesn’t feel okay. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes…” you moan as he nibbles on your earlobe, teasing with his sharp teeth but not breaking your skin.

“Mmm,” he places sweet kisses all along your jaw, your breath catching in your throat, “Good girl.”

Receiving praise from him made your chest swell. You wanted nothing more than to please this man you were rapidly falling for. He sat up, legs folded under his body, and slowly slid his hands under the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You felt his hands still on your stomach and looked up from where you were laying on your pillows to see what had made him freeze.

He met your gaze with a devilish grin, “Baby girl…” his thumbs run small circles on your skin, “Did you wear this for me?” 

When you realize what he’s talking about, you hide your face and groan into your hands. You completely forgot that you were still in your old Red Riot t-shirt that you usually slept in. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!” you mumbled behind your palms.

Kirishima chuckled and shushed you, “No, no, no… This is the sexiest thing you could have possibly worn.” He pulls the hem of your t-shirt up to expose your tummy, burying his face in the soft skin there. Gentle kisses were placed all along the waistline of your leggings, every squishy part and every little stretchmark that decorated your skin like tiny spiderwebs were lovingly caressed with his plush lips. Having the part of your body you were the most self-conscious of worshiped like this felt more vulnerable than sex.

As the kisses traveled higher, they became sloppier and more desperate. You lifted your arms to allow him to remove your shirt, exposing your plain white cotton bra. The feel of his stubble against your skin as he moaned into your cleavage sent shivers down your body. Instead of paying attention to your neglected nipples, his warm mouth carved a path up the column of your throat, head thrown back to give him as much access as possible.

Kirishima whispered against the tender skin under your earlobe, “This okay, baby?” two large fingers dip into the front of your leggings. You nod enthusiastically, unable to form a coherent answer, “Mmm… I need words, sweet thing. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes… it’s more than okay,” your chests are touching as he works his hand down the front of your pants.

When Kirishima’s thick fingers slid between your drenched folds, you arched your back and grasped his forearm. Slowly, he spread your slick around, dancing past your clit with each stroke. His teasing was turning you into a whimpering mess underneath him. 

He had all the time in the world and having you melt underneath his touch was the best way he could hope to spend it. After what felt like an eternity of him gently brushing against you, only slightly dipping into your needy hole and barely grazing your clit, you were openly panting and whining. A steady stream of praises flowed from his lips.

“You’re such a pretty girl… such a pretty little pussy.”

“Look at how wet you are for me. Like this, huh? My pretty girl likes my fingers teasing her?”

“I can’t wait to lick my fingers clean. You’re gonna taste so sweet.”

You were so worked up that tears began to form in your eyes, “Eji… I-“

“Hmm? What is it, baby girl? Need something?” His finger drags around your clit slowly, adding a fraction more pressure. 

“Please, I need more Eji,” your nails digging into his forearm were leaving little crescents in his thick skin.

“Sweet girl,” he meets your mouth with a slow, wet kiss, “you can have whatever you want.”

Without hesitation, he sits up and pulls your leggings down with your panties. A groan rattles his large chest when he sees a thread of your slick attached to the crotch. Once his face is buried in between your thighs, it’s a real possibility he might come just from eating you out. 

All the teasing had brought him to the edge as well and he was out of patience. With a few hurried kisses to each thigh, he dove into your dripping cleft. His tongue plunged into your core as he nudged his nose into your puffy clit. 

You cry out and convulse around his face. His arms wrap around your thighs, firmly but gently holding your legs open to give him full access to eat you as thoroughly as possible. When he moves to suck your clit, you know you won’t last much longer. As he nurses on your sensitive nub, you feel the familiar tightening in your lower body. He picks up on this and moans into your skin as he greedily sucks. 

“Ahh… Ahh, I’m- I’m gonna….”

“Oh that’s it,” he encourages you by praising you and massaging your thighs in his massive hands, “let me have it, baby girl. Come on, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Your toes curl and back arches as you’re thrown over the edge. “Oh FUCK!! Coming, coming…. ooooh god… ahh D-daddy!…”

“Daddy, is it? Goddamn”

Kirishima felt his dick twitch and his breath caught in his throat.

He wipes his face on the back of his hands and makes a show of licking his fingers clean as he leans over you, nose touching yours.

“What was that baby?” His voice was strained as he pressed his dick into the warm, damp skin of your thigh…

You bat your lashes and ghost your lips over his as you whisper, “Daddy… please let me ride you. I need you inside me.” The nail in Kirishima’s coffin was when you licked his bottom lip then quickly followed with a chaste kiss.

You waste no time wrapping your thighs around his waist and twisting. He follows your lead and lays flat on his back letting you straddle him. You grab the hem of his shirt and similarly tease him, leaving a trail of kisses along his broad stomach. Kirishima flinches a little, self-conscious of his skin and how soft his middle had gotten over the years. You meet his eyes as you pull his shirt over his broad shoulders and run your hands back down his body. 

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” hands and eyes roamed over the expanse of skin in front of you, “It’s even better than in my dreams.”

He wondered for the hundredth time how got this lucky. You really loved his body? Maybe… maybe he wasn’t in as bad of shape as he thought…

“No,” his hands rubbed your hips, kneading your soft skin, “You’re better than I’d ever hoped to find.” He sits upon the headboard and pulls you closer into his lap, “Now,” he pulls your hair free of the messy bun, “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock?”

You lift your hips and place his tip at your entrance. That alone caused a delicious stretch and you knew it would be a slow process getting him to fit comfortably.

“Yes, Daddy,” your hands wrapped around his neck and he growled as he pulled you into a rough kiss.

“Good fuckin girl.” 

He helped lower you onto his cock with lots of kisses, praises, and gentle squeezes. When you got closer to his base, the pain was too much for a moment. Kirishima used his thumb to rub circles into your clit, shushing you sweetly against your parted mouth. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead with his free hand while his other is still working your clit over.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, “You fill me up so well. I love your massive cock filling me up.”

“You’re gonna make me crazy, you know that? Huh?” He pulls your lower lip into his mouth and sucks. You both sit for a while, exchanging kisses and whispers while you adjust to his girth.

“Are you ready to move now, sweet girl?” 

“Yes, Daddy…” he helps you move, dragging your hips up and down his shaft.

After a few deep thrusts, you both increase your pace, matching each other’s movements. It’s not long before your head is thrown back, tears escaping the corners of your eyes. Loud moans and curses escape your mouth as one nipple is pulled into Kirishima’s mouth.

“Oh, Daddy! Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there… I… I’m… AHH!” Before you can even say anything, you’ve come undone, spasming around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl, good fuckin girl,” you go limp and bury your face into his neck while he slams your hips onto his, chasing his release. The feeling of him using your body to get off makes you dizzy with joy. You lean into his ear whispering, “Please come inside me. Wanna feel you come inside me, Daddy… please, need your come inside me, Daddy.” 

Your slurred pleas against his ear send him over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm. As he comes down from his high and looks into your face full of adoration, he knows he’s caught… hook, line, and sinker. 

*****

The rest of the evening is spent eating cookies on your couch, drinking cider, and watching your favorite crime drama. The sweet kisses and touches sprinkled throughout the night feel so natural… Like you’ve been together for years instead of hours. 

You end up with Kirishima’s head in your lap, running your fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes and relaxes into your touch. The clock on your wall reads 12:30 am and it dawns on you what day it officially is.

“Eji?”

“Hmm?” He opens one eye and reaches up to scratch your scalp. 

“Will you be my valentine?” You bite your bottom lip to stifle a silly grin.

He sits up and pulls you into a bear hug. 

“What kinda silly question is that? Of course. I don’t ever want another valentine besides you.”

Your heart explodes and you kiss him, grabbing his cheeks in both hands. 

“Sixteen-year-old me is absolutely losing her shit right now,” you giggle, rubbing his nose with yours.

“Well,” he grabs your ass and raises an eyebrow, “Forty-two-year-old me is losing his shit right now over finding such a sweet girl with such a sweet ass on her,” he nips at your neck and you squeal.

“Ooh, you ready for another round, old man?”

He growls and throws you over his shoulder. A swift spank to your ass causes you to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, so I’m dealing with a brat now? You want me to show you what this old man does to little brats?” He squeezes your thighs as he makes his way to the bedroom. 

“But I’m your good girl! Remember?!”

“Yeah, yeah… We’ll see about that.”

[snifflesthemouse]

Harry’s the Problem. His wife is the symptom. He is the real Diana 2.0 Wannabe...

         Since the Oprah interview aired, my whole perspective regarding the spare and his spouse has shifted. It would seem that I’m not alone in my thought process as more and more media outlets start reporting similar stances. Just recently, there was an article suggesting Harry didn’t change; but rather, he is only finally revealing his true self. The more I think about it all, the more I’ve come to the realization #6 is the real culprit behind everything.

         I’m not saying that his wife doesn’t have her own agenda or shares responsibility for her part in all this. Her hands are far from clean. What I am saying is it’s finally time for all of us to consider the cold, hard truth. Harry is his mother’s child. Harry is the bad egg, and his wife is only a side effect of the real problem here.

         Had it not been for the Oprah interview, I would have never put it all together. The problem with oversharing is too much information gets put out in the public. Most assume PR firms would worry about oversaturation in the press, but the real problem comes from personal interviews they cannot control in real-time. Puff pieces can be edited before publishing so facts and statements align; live interviews cannot. Over time, one of two patterns form from this oversaturation. Consistencies, repetitions, and similarities can be found in oversaturated truth-telling. Inconsistencies, changes, and huge differences result from those like Harry who prefer their trousers scorching hot from bursting into flames from deception. When you consistently lie, the only constant is the inconsistencies. 

         Now, those of us who have been following these two already know by now inconsistencies and changing stories should be expected. But the Oprah interview really highlighted some interesting things I had previously missed. The interview with Dax Shephard only solidifies my theories. Up until lately, those two have been together through most everything. Very seldom have we seen Harry alone in an interview or speech. There’s never a time where the missus isn’t popping up. James Corden proved that. Then we have the Oprah interview where she was supposed to be the star of the show. But, that was the moment it all changed. That interview was the moment she became the understudy. 

          Think about it. Who is the one being used in the media lately? Most people would suggest that the impending delivery of child number dos is why the missus is absent. One would then argue the Apple + special with Oprah started production well before the second child was a topic for discussion. The missus is being used less and less on camera or in the media. Everything is all about Harry. Forget about when Harry met Sally; Harry Met Hollywood! 

         Harry is the one doing the interviews, dropping projects, and talking with big Hollywood names. Even their announced Netflix projects are focused on one of Harry’s pre-married concepts. All the wife has going for her is a book that’s only number one in the “Books written by ex-Royals who couldn’t hack it” category. Seriously though, as of this posting the Bench is #2130 on the Amazon Books list, #12 in Children’s Black and African American Story Books, #73 in Children’s Emotions Books, and #167 in Children’s Family Life Books. Being pregnant isn’t a disqualifier for being interviewed. But, apparently being just the wife is.

         So, if it was his wife’s plan from the beginning to marry Harry, get him to abandon his family, move to California, and become a big star with a Prince for a husband, her plans have been ruined. And if you think about what she said in the interview with Oprah, you can actually see the moments she told us all exactly that. She clearly tells Oprah Harry was her direct link and source to the Royal Family and everything she needed to know. She didn’t misspeak or misunderstand a thing; she was telling us that Harry’s next to be markled. In every weird answer or revelation where she gave her versions for why their child(ren) were without title, saying they wed three days before the chapel, or having to cry out to HR since Harry failed to help her while she was so depressed she wanted to kill herself and her unborn child... all of it. It was all just the beginning. It may seem like she is attacking her husband’s family, but Harry’s the real target now.

          In just a couple sentences, she managed to reveal who Harry really was. Harry, of all people, should (and does) know how to navigate the press. Clearly, he failed to not only help her acclimate to Royal life, but it could also even be argued he set her up for failure for the get go. Let me give you an example. When my husband introduced me to his family for the first time, he told me little tidbits of information he found important for me to know. He essentially prepped me for the meeting so things went well. He wanted his family to like me because he loved me. I wanted them to like me because I loved him, too. So, I took to heart everything he told me. Yet, Harry’s wife shared with the world how little Harry cared about that. She credits Fergie with teaching her to curtsey, google for teaching her the National Anthem, and even said Her Majesty made her feel especially welcomed. So how did Harry not do more? If they started seeing one another in the early Summer of 2016, how is it Harry failed to teach or explain anything to her prior to meeting his grandmother, the Queen, when he had months and months of time to do so? How is it he failed his wife so miserably, she didn’t even understand basic UK custom, laws, or protocols? Why might you ask?

         Simply put, Harry is so much like his mother, all he knows is how to play the victim narrative while using the link to the Royal family as a nonstop ATM machine. Many people aren’t honest with themselves when it comes to Diana. She wasn’t the Mother Theresa everyone makes her out to be. Mother Theresa wasn’t a Mother Theresa either, though. Did Diana do some great things? Absolutely. Did she do them only because they were nice or great? Absolutely… not. Diana’s PR team would even have her switch up her charity causes whenever they felt it was getting to martyrdom level. They’d refer to her PR stunts as flavors. Does that sound like an innocent woman?

         Not to me. This whole time we all have seen his wife as the root of all issues, but she’s the side effect. It’s becoming more clear by the day that Harry searched out her. He wanted someone with the basic Hollywood connections that he could capitalize. Someone that seemed so controlling and ambitious it would be easy to believe they were controlling him, too. Of course he knew she would invite all the celebs she did. He probably inspired that guest list. Instead of guiding her in the press and in British society, he leads her to slaughter. He hides behind her repeated gaffes and wokeness to keep on his own mission.

         You see, Harry is obsessed with his brother eventually becoming king, being the “Second Son of Diana” and being the misfit. He is obsessed with his brother and father. They are all he talks about. When you obsess on something like that, it is more revealing than anything you say. Harry’s true motives aren’t protecting his wife and children. His real motive is making a name for himself like his mother did. If he can manage to get some revenge by making the Firm feel some backlash, hey that’s a bonus. 

         While his wife may think in her mind she will be the next Diana 2.0, the truth is we all missed who really will be. Harry is the one wanting to be Diana 2.0. If that’s the case, then that means the much older spouse for whom there are two children with, aka the wife, would be his Charles. Remember, Diana lost her HRH and titles. And we have Harry being very aggressive and pushy, to the point it seems he is trying to get ahead of a Palace announcement of them losing their titles. But it makes sense now.

         They aren’t trying to lose anything, but instead Harry keeps opening his mouth to create pressure in the media. He knows his wife does not want to give those titles back. But if he himself keeps saying outrageous things, then it would put everyone in ultimatum mode. Either Harry will push hard enough that Parliament and the Queen will have enough, or the press will get so critical of the two, Harry will push his wife to agree to returning the titles.

         Harry is following the Diana business model. While in the Royal Family, they both were seen as rock stars who had more star power the the Sovereign, which was an issue. Then, they couldn’t take all the abuse, coldness, and inhumanity, so they bolted for freedom. Instead of putting the past behind them, they use the past to monetize grief and trauma in such a way, they become their own brand. Right now, the trauma being monetized comes from the past, but the problem will soon come when that trauma is tapped out. He will need a source of new pain or victimhood. Enters the wife stage left.

          The wife is a tool. She of course has her own plans and thinks she is the one in control or the genius. She thinks she is the one everyone wants to work with. But it’s becoming clear to her that isn’t the case and she’s been played by her elite buddies. They all want him, not her. They all duped her for him. If I can see it, and I can see her already finger pointing that Harry is the failure here, then she can see it. And that means paradise will soon be lost in those Montecito hills. His wife won’t go down without a serious fight here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she eventually causes him to lose his special visa. 

         Overall, Harry hides behind his wife like a beard or shield protecting him from the press’s glaring lens. He lets her do and say whatever she thinks is great so he can keep plotting his own plans. He allows her to take the fall, look stupid, pull stunts people can see through, etc. for a reason. He isn’t completely sure he can make it in his new California life. He knows he can’t if he keeps her for too long, but he also knows he needs an exit strategy in case it blows up. So, he pins the press to attack her as the true culprit. If they split and he has to, he can return home and play the victim of her. If they split and he is doing okay in Hollywood, she can be the reason he plays victim to big named people like Oprah and Gayle. 

         I can see it now. An Oprah Special with Harry tonight on Apple +. Something cheesy or corny that is almost plagiarism. Like Narcissus and the Prince or something. Watch. Mark my words. Oprah talking to Harry about surviving the marriage while trying to rescue two small kids, being in the spotlight as a Royal while being gaslit by a narcissistic wife… yes I can see the green screen set up now.

         I know this is difficult to digest, but I do ask you to try. While his wife is not innocent, she clearly is guilty for her own part indeed, his wife isn’t the true problem. The true problem here is a man who has a serious issue with living in the shadow of his future-King father and future-King brother, and his future-King nephew, that he has chosen to use the same exact attack model his own mother used to merch and marginally disrupt the institution that made her a star. Harry and his mother both wanted the entire spotlight, but both knew they could never have it the way they wanted it. So, they wrote their own victimhood narrative.

         And here we are now. Mark my words. Harry will keep pushing until those remaining titles are removed by them forcing the hands of Parliament and the Queen. Or, they’ll push and push in the press so much the outrage and hypocrisy will leave them no other option but to renounce and re-gift those titles and rights to the line of succession. That is what he wants, even if his missus doesn’t. Also make no mistake about it. Harry is the real Diana 2.0 wannabe, not his wife. Keep an eye out. I have this gnawing feeling that soon enough, there will be plenty leaks from the wife about the husband. She won’t go quietly into the Beverly Hills… but neither will he.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Preferences-Carving Pumpkins

(Author’s Note:  Ahhh, I had so much fun writing these!!!  I’m super excited for autumn, and I just needed an outlet involving our awesome squad

Warnings:  Squash being butchered, pumpkin guts....Oh, and some smooching).

Wrecker: 

   “Hey, sweetie?” Wrecker asked, and you glanced up from your selection of pumpkins.  He stood very still as his eyes flickered back and forth between two very large pumpkins that you were sure you wouldn’t be able to lift.  He stroked his chin in contemplation.

   “What’s up?” You folded your arms as you stood next to him.

   “Which one looks bigger to you?”

   You knelt down, dedicating several seconds to observing each pumpkin and taking mental measurements.  They were nearly identical in size.  “That’s a tough one.  They both look the same size to me, but if I had to choose which one I thought was bigger-” you pointed “-I’d say that one.”

   Wrecker stared at the pumpkin for a few moments before nodding.  “Yeah,” he agreed slowly.  “I’d say you’re right.”  He immediately knelt down and set to work on cutting through the stem with his viroblade.  Meanwhile, you had also reached a decision on a pumpkin, and asked your love if he wouldn’t mind picking it for you.  Wrecker was happy to oblige, cutting the stem with his viroblade and gently handing the freed pumpkin over to you.

   The others had already picked theirs and were heading over to the benches to clean and carve them.  You and Wrecker carried your pumpkins over to the nearest empty bench, claiming your tools.  Wrecker’s huge pumpkin took up half of the table.

   “So what are you going to do with your pumpkin?” you asked as you cut through the top of your pumpkin and proceeded to clean out the insides.

   “It’s a surprise!” he replied enthusiastically.

   You lifted a brow, but smiled.  “In that case, mine’s a surprise too.”

   “How about we do a big reveal when we’re done?”

   You nodded.  “I like that idea.”

   As you began to carve your design, it was hard not to notice the occasional chuckles and snickers as Wrecker set to work on his pumpkin.  Every now and then, he’d take a few steps back to look at it, huff out another fit of laughter, and then return to the project.  You were growing increasingly interested in what his would look like, but still kept your eyes on your own pumpkin.  Finally, both of you finished your projects and got ready for the big reveal.

   “Alright, on the count of three?” you prompted.

   He grinned.  “One...”

   “Two…”

   Both of you shouted, “three!” and spun your pumpkins around to face each other.  At the sight of Wrecker’s pumpkin, you burst into laughter.  It was a very silly face with big eyes and a wobbly smile, but it was carved so well, so precisely, it looked like a meme from the holonet.

   “Okay, that’s funny.”  You laughed. 

   “Yours looks good, ________!” he said, giving you a playful nudge.

   “Thanks.”  You turned to smile at him, and he pulled you into his strong arms.  His breathing picked up as he leaned into your space for a tender kiss.

   “I wanted to kiss ya’ so bad a few minutes ago,” he told you, “but I didn’t want you to think I was trying to sneak a peek at your pumpkin before it was ready.”

   You returned the kiss, lingering over his lips for a moment as you murmured, “well, you don’t have to worry about that now.”

Crosshair: 

   “Will this work?” he asked for the third time, though there wasn’t an ounce of impatience in his tone.

   “No, it needs to be more slender,” you decided with a shake of your head.  “And maybe just a tad taller?”  Crosshair backed away from the pumpkin he’d offered, eyes scanning the patch in search of one that better fit your description.  He knelt down, pushing away some leaves to reveal a pumpkin that was taller and thinner than the other one.

   “How’s this?”

   You knelt down beside him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to picture how your design would look.  It looked great in your mind.  Now, it was time to make it reality.  “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

   Crosshair unsheathed his viroblade and swiftly cut the vine, detaching the pumpkin and handing it to you.  “There you go.”  You accepted it sweetly, unable to resist kissing him in appreciation for the gesture.  He hadn’t even questioned you on the design or complained once, only set to work on helping you find exactly what it was you wanted.  You waited for him to choose a pumpkin, which was a shorter process, before the two of you walked over to the nearest bench.

   You set to work on emptying the pumpkin of its guts, glancing over every so often to watch Crosshair at work.  Once in a while, he’d catch your gaze and notice the mischievous smile that you tried so hard to hide.

   He paused, straightening up from his task and fishing out a toothpick.  “What?”

   “Nothing,” you replied.  “Oh, uh… Can I borrow one of those?”

   He lifted a brow, but said nothing as he pulled out another toothpick and passed it to you across the table.

   “Thanks, Cross.”  You lowered your gaze, but it did nothing to hide the glint in your eye as you continued working on your pumpkin carving.  Crosshair returned to his project, though he still kept an eye on you.  At one point, he smirked at how absolutely giddy you looked.

   Finally, your pumpkin was complete.  You placed the last finishing touch, the toothpick, where it needed to be and stood back to admire it.  Crosshair’s was done moments later.

   “So, let’s see what we have here,” he said, motioning for you to show him.  You grinned and turned the pumpkin around, revealing your handiwork.  You had chosen the pumpkin’s shape with purpose.  It was the perfect canvas to carve Crosshair’s face into it, complete with the crosshairs tattoo over its right eye and a toothpick sticking out of its mouth.

   Crosshair exhaled sharply in amusement, his expression so cocky and strangely attractive as he shifted his stance.  “That’s a handsome pumpkin,” he commented.

  “Glad you think so,” you said.  “What does yours look like?”

   He chuckled, placing a hand on the top of his pumpkin to spin it around.  It had your face, and it was well-carved too.

   That’s a pretty pumpkin,” you told him with a growing smile. He met your gaze with amusement dancing in his.

   “Glad you think so.”

Hunter: 

   Hunter cut your chosen pumpkin from the vine, handing it to you with care.  “There you go, sweetheart.”

   “Thank you,” you said. 

   While you had taken your time in picking out the pumpkin you wanted, he wasn’t choosy and ended up taking the one closest to yours for himself.  Both of you went to one of the benches and set to work.  Apparently, Hunter was more interested in the carving part.  You paused to watch him take one of the tools and expertly cut the pumpkin open to remove the insides.  You found yourself resting an elbow on the table as you observed the sergeant, your pumpkin nearly forgotten altogether in the moment.

   Hunter caught your eye, smiling when he realized you’d been watching him.  He twirled the carving tool between his fingers and gave a playful wink.  Your face heated up as you pulled your pumpkin closer to your end of the table to begin working on it.

   “Need some help?” he asked, mistaking your momentary distraction from your project as uncertainty.

   “No, I’m good.  I just needed a minute to think about my design,” you said, which was also true.  “I’m not so helpless, Sergeant.”

   The use of his title in such a playful tone made him chuckle.  “Didn’t think you were, sweetheart.  I just can’t help it.”

   You rounded the bench to plant a kiss to his lips, and he welcomed your touch with arms going for your waist instantly.  “I know,” you murmured, letting him know that you took no offense.  “You’re just so used to helping everyone else.  I like that about you.”

   He exhaled, and there was no missing the slight tremble of his body.  You pulled away and headed back to your side of the bench to continue carving your design.  Every now and then, you couldn’t resist glancing over to watch Hunter skillfully carve the numbers “99” in a large aurebesh font into his pumpkin with the signature skull symbol at the top right.

   “Your design,” he spoke up, peeking over.  “Looks good, ________.”

   “Why, thank you.  I like your Bad Batch pumpkin,” you replied.

Tech: 

   “Are you certain this is the one you want?” Tech asked.  You nodded at the chosen pumpkin, and he cut the vine to hand it over to you.  “There you are, love.”

   “Thank you, Tech,” you said.

   “It is no trouble at all.  Now, the trick will be finding the right one for myself.”

   You knew how particular Tech could be about things, but you didn’t realize how seriously he would take the endeavor of selecting the “right” pumpkin.  Even so, you waited patiently, your own pumpkin in hand, for several minutes as Tech browsed rows of the patch.  You loved him for who he was, but it was hard to wait quietly anymore.  At one point, you had to set down your pumpkin because it began to weigh heavily in your arms.

   “What exactly are you looking for?” you asked.  Perhaps you could help the process along.

   “I’m looking for the pumpkin with the most aesthetic appeal- good color and symmetry are important.”

   “Oh, okay.”  You knelt down, pointing.  “What about this one?  It looks like the kind of pumpkin you’d see in a fall article on the holonet.”

   He followed your gaze, adjusting his goggles.  “I saw that one already.  It is indeed a good pumpkin, but still not quite what I’m looking for.”  You shrugged and kept looking, but none that  you saw were even as nice as the first one you’d pointed out.  Finally, you heard an exclamation from farther down the row.

   “Ah, I found it.”  Tech had been kneeling down to inspect it before making the commitment of picking it.  He approached, leaning in to give you an apologetic peck on the cheek.  “Sorry it took so long.  Thank you for waiting.”

   “It’s okay,” you chuckled.  “I’m glad you’re happy with your pumpkin.”

   Both of you went over to the benches to begin prepping the pumpkins for carving.  The rest of the squad were nearly done with theirs already, but everyone was talking and joking around, so there was no rush.  Tech chatted about varieties of squash for a few minutes as you worked.  He paused every now and then to admire your design out loud and relocate some of the tools closer to your side of the bench since he had a tendency to hog them.

   “Do you have everything you need?” he asked again.

   You nodded.  “Yes, I do.”

   “Good, good.”

   You walked over to his side of the table.  “Do you mind if I look?”

   “Not at all.  Mind you, it’s not quite finished yet.”

   You were amazed to see a little fall scene carved into the pumpkin, complete with a barn, a scarecrow, and a bare tree.  “Wow, Tech!  This is great.”

   “It’s still not done,” he reminded, as if that should make you less impressed.

   “It really looks great though,” you insisted, cupping his cheek and angling his mouth toward yours for an affectionate kiss.  That seemed to get his attention, drawing it away from fussing over what he saw as an incomplete project.  His eyes gazed at you softly through the large lenses, and his lips turned up in a smile.

   “I’m having... fun,” he said, arm tightening around your waist.

   “Me too.”

Echo:

   Echo cut your pumpkin from the patch swiftly, passing it to you, before taking a short walk down the rest of the row.  It wasn’t long before he found one that was decent-looking and knelt to cut the vine.

   “How fun is this?” you asked happily, carrying your pumpkin as you walked beside him on the way to the benches.

   “Yeah,” he agreed with a smile.  “Me and the boys did this once on leave.”  he chuckled.  “Jesse got in trouble for throwing pumpkin innards at Fives.”

   You laughed at the mental image.  “That sounds like a good time.”

   Echo shook his head, though a chuckle escaped his lips.  “If Wrecker starts throwing pumpkin guts...”

   “Knowing Wrecker, that very well may be a possibility.”  The two of you got settled at the nearest empty bench.  You glanced over to see Wrecker was indeed tossing some pumpkin insides in Crosshair’s direction, earning a grumbled “grow up, Wrecker” from his teammate.  You stifled a laugh and set to work on emptying your own pumpkin.  You and Echo worked side-by-side, absolutely content with the proximity despite bumping elbows often.

   Your heart sped up while the rest of you felt simultaneously relaxed at his side.  There was a happy calm that settled between you because you were simply together.  Yet, every time he glanced your way with that sure gaze, it nearly made you shudder.

   “Looking good,” he commented, pausing to get a better look at your nearly-complete pumpkin carving.

   With lips curling into a smile, you asked, “Me, or the pumpkin?”

   Echo chuckled.  “Both.”

   You leaned in to press a light kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw.  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

   He seemed momentarily dazed from the unexpected gesture, but he soon looked at you with a mischievous glint.  “Now, was that aimed at me, or the pumpkin?”

   You laughed.

   “I’m being serious,” he deadpanned.  “Because if I misunderstood, then this next part will be very embarrassing for me.”  He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in for a longer kiss, his lips caressing yours in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

   “So embarrassing,” you murmured teasingly.  You separated to continue your projects, shoulders still touching.  His pumpkin carving was a typical face with triangle eyes and a gaping smile, but it was done very well.  “I like your pumpkin,” you said.

   “Thank you, m’lady.  I like your design too.”

   “Thank you.”

Omega at the Pumpkin Patch: She takes the process seriously, spending quite a bit of time choosing the right pumpkin for what she had planned.  The others were curious because she chose a pumpkin that was much wider than it was tall, and she kept it angled away from the group as she worked.  Anytime someone would venture over to check her progress, she’d quickly stand up in front of it to block the view.

After she finally beamed and announced she was done, everyone gathered around to see she had carved an image of the entire squad into the pumpkin.

[holmesandtheroman]

The Empty Place Where Love Should Be — Abner Krill x Fem!Reader

Chapter 6

A/N: Guess who’s back!!!! As promised, I have updated. Took a break to work on Flufftober and had some rough times, but I’m back, Abner’s back, you’re back. It’s been like three months and I’m still brainrotting about this sad man. Anyway, as always, you can read this on my AO3 here.

WARNINGS: Abusive language from parent

You wiped away the streamline of tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You slammed your hand on the table in frustration next to your open laptop. You had spent the last hour and a half trying to look up what to do for adults who were being abused by their parents. There were a few sympathetic articles articulating the plight, but as far as you could tell, there was no protocol or hotline for that type of abuse.

Hell, you were not even sure if Abner was being abused by his mother. Everything was implied. He talked around it. What if it was all a huge misunderstanding?

You let your head fall into your hands as you continued to sob. All you wanted was for Abner to be safe and for him to feel safe around you, the way he was last night. He had felt safe enough to fall asleep on your shoulder… he had not apologized for that. You were safe to him.

Your heart broke over and over for him… You knew he would never ask you, but if he did, you would move mountains for him. If he wanted the moon, you would have built a ladder tall enough to capture it for him. You wanted to pick him up and hold him close and never let go to show him that there was someone who loved him.

You loved him.

With that realization you sat up, your blurry eyes trained ahead at your computer screen. You loved Abner.

It did not matter if you had only just met a few weeks ago. You did not need a reason to love him already, however. Why justify your own feelings to yourself? This fragile creature had chosen you to open up to. He thought the world of you, perhaps naively so, and he admitted it.

Your phone chimed, and you nearly launched yourself across the table to grab it. You saw that it was a text from an unfamiliar number, and your heart pounded as you hoped it was Abner. You opened the text.

‘This is Abner. I’m safe now.’

You sighed with relief as you read the text, but your worry came surging back as you realized that he had mentioned his mother might check his phone. You typed back a quick response.

‘What book did I mention us reading last night?’

A moment passed before you received another text that read, ‘Pride and Prejudice. You did not say who wrote it though.’

It was Abner. You let your head fall back in true relief. You texted, ‘I’m glad you’re OK.’

Several moments passed before you heard your phone ding again with another text from Abner. You picked up the phone and read: ‘Thank you for everything last night. I liked watching Anna Karenina with you. I wish we could watch another one soon.’

You could not help but smile as a warmth spread through you. He wanted to be with you… You shot back another text. ‘Of course! We could even go out to see one.’ As you were speculating on the next movie you would both enjoy seeing, your phone dinged.

‘Talk later. She’s nearby,’ came Abner’s reply.

Your fingers hovered over the touchscreen considering a quick response but decided against it. You understood exactly who he meant, and if his notifications were on and you replied, there was a chance everything could go south for him. You hoped he understood that that’s why you did not text back.

With a sigh, you stood with more relief than you had when you sat down. You made your way to your bedroom to get ready for your shift.

Abner stood in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing away the awful taste of vomit in his mouth. Expelling his dots had not been as painful that evening, but he knew that it was only because the events of the previous night had distracted him.

In fact, his mind had been playing everything over and over again all day. The scenes from Anna Karenina were on repeat in his mind’s eye mixed with your smile and comforting words. Your gentle touches were burned onto his skin; he could still taste the tea you had made for him; every time he touched his face, the cut under his eye stung, and he was reminded of the way you had cleaned it and given him the frozen peas to cover it.

Abner spit into the sink and cleaned his toothbrush under the tap water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his fingers lingering at his lips. He stood and gazed in the mirror.

He remembered back to the scene where Vronsky and Anna first kissed… it was like watching the sunrise: it was supposed to happen, and it was so satisfying to see it happen. Something burned within him, and he dared to imagine a kiss like that happening to him. Could he be loved enough one day to be kissed with such fervor as Anna?

What would it feel like to kiss you?

Abner blinked at the intrusive thought, his hands falling to his side. His mother’s words slithered in behind the fantastical question: “No one could ever love YOU, Abner. Not the way I do… You’re just a stupid little boy who can’t do anything right… You can barely take care of your mother. What makes you think you could take care of someone else?”

Abner physically shook his head, attempting to get his mother out of his head. He quietly made his way to his exceedingly bare room and closed the door behind him.

“Stupid, worthless boy. If you went out on your own, everyone would hate you.”

“No,” he whispered allowed as he squeezed his eyes shut. He sat down on his bed and reached under his mattress to pull out his copy of Anna Karenina. He held it close to his chest, trying to fill his head with the words from the book and images from the movie.

“People hate you, Abner.”

“No, (y/n) doesn’t. She… likes me,” he muttered to quell his mother’s words.

His mother’s voice quietened as he envisioned the waltz scene, this time actively imagining that he was a part of it. He imagined being dressed in a black suit, one that matched Anna’s ruffled dress from the movie. Abner smiled gently at the thought of him waltzing with you… you all in white, the same way Vronsky contrasted with Anna. He imagined you smiling at him, the crowd melting away as you both twirled to the music. Both of you laughing at nothing and everything… And then, just as the music slowed, Abner imagined him taking your hands and mustering all the courage within him to kiss you, gently, deeply, passionately. A kiss that could mean nothing else other than “I am completely in love with you and am at your mercy.”

Abner opened his eyes, disappointment weighing down his heart as he remembered that he was still in his plain, dark room in his mother’s old house. He sighed and got into his bed, draping the covers over him.

He hugged the book tightly to his chest, his body craving the warmth and closeness that he had felt last night with you. You had not pushed him away when he wrapped his arm around yours. You had not gotten up and moved when he fell asleep against you. He shivered, desperate to reach out and feel you even though he was painfully aware you were not there.

He curled up beneath his covers, stifling a sob. He wanted to be with you so much that it physically hurt his chest… the pain reminded him of grief, but it was a type of happy grief. He would see you again, hear your voice, maybe even hold your hand. He would be near you like he so desperately needed.

Abner reached into his pajama pants pocket and pulled out his flip phone. He opened it, the bright light causing him to squint. He looked over his shoulder at his closed bedroom door and listened for a moment, making sure his mother was not coming. He turned back to his phone and typed out a message to you: ‘Thank you for letting me stay at your place last night. I’m sorry I caused you to stay up late.’

He was not sure you would answer at all; perhaps you were working, or asleep… or annoyed with him about the previous night. What if you had just been faking it when you told him it was no trouble?

“You’re such a pathetic thing… people will only ever pity you, Abner. Nothing more. They won’t be nice… they’ll only feel sorry for you,” his mother’s voice echoed once again in his ears.

Abner stared at the text he sent to you, wishing he could undo it. What if that had just interrupted your sleep or gotten you in trouble at work? Would you think he was being too clingy or talkative?

Suddenly, a reply from you appeared, and Abner’s heart jumped. He eagerly read it.

‘Of course! And you don’t have to worry about that. I normally fall asleep watching TV anyway. It was nice to have a friend to do that with!’

Abner smiled lightly. As he started to type another message, you texted again. ‘What should we watch next time?’ You also had sent a smiley face.

Abner deleted the words he was about to send and wrote instead, ‘You want me to come over again?’

A few moments passed without any response from you, and Abner grew nervous. What if you had been joking?

Finally, you replied, ‘Yeah! You said earlier you wanted to watch another movie soon? If you come over, I can make popcorn and we can order pizza and all that. What do you think?’

Abner sat up in bed, invigorated by the conversation he was having. You wanted him to come over again? You weren’t faking being nice, then…

‘I would like that very much,’ he replied.

‘We can talk about what we might want to watch when you see me next at Coop’s.’ Your message came quickly this time.

Abner texted, ‘That sounds good.’ His thumbs hovered over the number keys for a moment. ‘Are you working there tonight?’

‘Yeah… it’s pretty slow over here. I have like one table that won’t leave and they keep asking for shit. Why? You coming to see me?’ You sent a winky face.

Abner sighed and glanced at his door. He started to type, but, as if fate decided to be cruel, he heard a creak and slow footsteps in the hallway. His stomach dropped. He quickly laid back down and rolled onto his side away from the door, shutting his phone and shoving it far under his pillow.

As his door opened slowly, it creaked menacingly. He tried to even out his breathing, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

His mother’s heavy breathing was the only sound that reverberated around the darkened room, and Abner begged in his mind that she would not come over to him or be able to tell that he was not asleep. With a deep pang, he realized that if you texted him, his mother would be able to hear the vibrating from underneath the pillow, as it was rather loud.

After several agonizing moments of Abner inwardly pleading that you would not text him then or that his mother would leave, he heard a low ‘hmph’ from his mother as she closed the door and her lumbering footsteps retreated down the hallway.

Abner rolled over slightly, his eye peeking over his shoulder to make sure she was gone. She was, and he let out a sigh of relief. He pulled out his phone again and continued the text meant for you.

‘I can’t come tonight. Mother keeps checking on me.’

Abner swallowed. He knew that you would eventually start asking about his past and his mother, but he also knew that if he told you everything, you might run away screaming. Either that or you would not believe him and you would laugh in his face. That’s what his mother said would happen if he ever told anyone about his dots…

Another text from you. ‘That’s all right. Just stay safe, OK?’

‘I will,’ he replied.

‘I need to go. Another group just came in. Ugh, lol,’ you texted.

‘OK, sorry. Good night.’

Your message came after a few moments. ‘Sleep well, Abner! x.’

Abner was not sure what the ‘x’ meant, but he smiled at it nonetheless. He wanted to believe it meant something nice, so for once, he was optimistic that it did. He turned off his phone and pushed it under his pillow once again.

As he closed his eyes to fall asleep, visions of the ball scene in Anna Karenina once again hazily drifted through his mind, with you and him at the center of the room as you both waltzed away the night.

Tagging: @maximumcoffeeme @asmuo @bimboshaggy @nightime-luna-fairy @chaoticace22 @thedumbbrunette0-0 @lennyb0benny @ravendast @gonzosestrangedbrother @kennedywxlsh @jupiters--moonxx @glytchfic @therakshawolf @phntm-snce

[thecreaturecodex]

Dragon, Yellow

“Citrine Dragon” © Robert Burke Games, by Kerem Beyit. Accessed at his deviantArt gallery here

[Commissioned by @mr-w-rambles​. Folks, this is the longest single creature entry I’ve ever written. See ya, hordlings! It’s also my first true dragon. Which, taking the Pathfinder Bestiary format, means a table and three whole stat blocks. Tumblr handles tables poorly, so I’ve put those below the cut as image files--they’re a bit jarringly large, but they’re still legible.

There have been two different versions of the yellow dragon, one from the 1990 Draconomicon, which lives in deserts, and this one, from Dragon Magazine, which is semi-aquatic. The article it comes from uses color theory to predict the breath weapons of the “missing dragons”, so it gets a bit weird. The yellow dragon itself evolved through its three iterations. The 1e version is a pretty standard dragon, the 2e version is wingless and flies magically, and the 3e version (from Dragon Compendium Vol. 1) is incredibly dexterous for a dragon. I went with the 3e concept, but toned it down (as all dragons have been toned down in the shift from 3.x to Pathfinder). This is also a dragon that might play a little weirdly. Its AC is even better than the inflated AC for dragons, but its damage dealing capabilities are pretty pathetic. It also inflicts more status conditions than usual for a dragon. The CR on this is somewhat of a stab in the dark, comparing it to core Pathfinder dragons. Let me know if you think it needs further adjustment.]

Dragon, Yellow This dragon’s long, serpentine body is covered in yellow scales, flecked with green and white. It has no wings, but moves through the air with surprising grace. Its eyes are sea green and somewhat beady, and multiple ridges run along its skull and body, giving it a streamlined appearance.

Yellow dragons live at the convergence of air, earth and water. They are found on sandy beaches, coral reefs, salt marshes and mangrove forests. The scales of a yellow dragon remain small throughout the creature’s entire life, giving them a supple skin and a glittering appearance. They can breathe a cone of pressurized brine, which deals as much damage above as below water. They are carnivores, with a taste for desiccated and heavily salted meat. They are physically weak by the standards of dragons, but are remarkably nimble, and can maneuver in three dimensions in multiple kinds of terrain. Yellow dragons prefer to make hit and run attacks, stopping to make full attacks only when opponents are blinded and agonized by salt crystals.

Yellow dragons are cruel and temperamental creatures.  They often make raids inland to attack settlements of intelligent creatures, and savor the meat of humanoids for special occasions. They may ally with sahaugin or other evil aquatic creatures, but yellow dragons feel clearly that they are the dominant party in the relationship. Yellow dragons fear bronze dragons above all others, as the bronze dragons are larger and better spellcasters besides. Almost all yellow dragons take spells that protect them from electricity once they are capable enough spellcasters. Yellow and black dragons sometimes have overlapping territories, but the two species keep a wary distance from each other.

Yellow Dragon LE dragon (air, water) Base Statistics CR 3; Size Tiny; Hit Dice 3d12 Speed 60 ft., burrow 30 ft., swim 60 ft. Natural Armor +3; Breath Weapon cone of salt, 2d4 bludgeoning and acid Str 7, Dex 16, Con 13, Int 8, Wis 11, Cha 8 Ecology Environment warm and temperate coastal and aquatic Organization solitary Treasure triple standard Special Abilities Agonizing Breath (Su) A creature that takes damage from an adult or older yellow dragon’s breath weapon must succeed a Fortitude save (same DC as the breath weapon) or be sickened for a number of rounds equal to the dragon’s age category. This is a pain effect. Blinding Breath (Su) A creature that takes damage from a young or older yellow dragon’s breath weapon must succeed a Fortitude save (same DC as the breath weapon) or be blinded for a number of rounds equal to ½ the dragon’s age category. Brine Storm (Su) An ancient or older yellow dragon can use its breath weapon to create a cloud of acid as a standard action that deals damage to any creature inside it. The cloud moves with the dragon and has a radius of 20 feet. When it's created, anyone inside this area takes an amount of acid damage equal to half the dragon's breath weapon, with a Reflex save for half damage. The number of damage dice rolled is halved each round until the result would be less than 1d4. Any creature that starts its turn inside the cloud takes damage, but can make a Reflex save for half. A strong wind, such as that created by a gust of wind, disperses the cloud in 1 round. Flight (Su) A yellow dragon’s flight is a supernatural ability. It always has good maneuverability with its flight speed, no matter its size. Graceful Attacks (Ex) An old or older yellow dragon may add its Dexterity modifier to its damage with natural weapons instead of its Strength modifier. It does not add 1.5 times its Dexterity modifier to damage bonuses to its bite or tail slap attacks. Nimble (Ex) A yellow dragon uses the following table for its Strength, Dexterity and natural armor bonuses. All of its other ability scores and qualities use the normal dragon table. In addition, it uses its Dexterity modifier to modify Swim checks.

Spell-like Abilities A yellow dragon gains the following spell-like abilities, usable at will upon reaching the listed age category. Very young—obscuring mist; Young adult—control water; Mature adult—control winds; Very old—control weather; Great wyrm—horrid wilting. Terrible Claws (Ex) A yellow dragon of young or older age does not have wing slap attacks, but its claws deal damage as if it were one size larger. Water Breathing (Ex) A yellow dragon can breathe underwater indefinitely and can freely use its breath weapon, spells and other abilities while submerged.

Young Yellow Dragon        CR 7 XP 3,200 LE Medium dragon (air, water) Init +5; Senses blindsense 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., dragon senses, Perception +10 Defense AC 22, touch 16, flat-footed 16 (+5 Dex, +1 dodge, +6 natural) hp 66 (7d12+21) Fort +8, Ref +10, Will +6 Immune acid, paralysis, sleep Offense Speed 60 feet, burrow 30 ft., swim 60 ft., fly 150 ft. (good) Melee bite +12 (1d8), 2 claws +12 (1d8) Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with bite) Special Attacks blinding breath (Fort DC 16, 1 round), breath weapon (60 ft. cone, 1d4 rounds, Ref DC 16, 6d4 acid and bludgeoning) Spell-like Abilities CL 7th, concentration +7 At will—obscuring mist Statistics Str 11, Dex 20, Con 17, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 10 Base Atk +7; CMB +7; CMD 23 (27 vs. trip) Feats Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Mobility, Weapon Finesse Skills Appraise +9, Bluff +9, Fly +18, Perception +10, Sense Motive +10, Stealth +14, Survival +10, Swim +13; Racial Modifiers uses Dex to Swim Languages Draconic SQ flight. nimble, terrible claws, water breathing

Adult Yellow Dragon          CR 11 XP 12,800 LE Large dragon (air, water) Init +8; Senses blindsense 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., dragon senses, Perception +14 Aura frightful presence (180 ft., Will DC 18) Defense AC 30, touch 18, flat-footed 21 (-1 size, +8 Dex, +1 dodge, +12 natural) hp 138 (12d10+60) Fort +13, Ref +16, Will +11 DR 5/magic; Immune acid, paralysis, sleep; SR 21 Offense Speed 60 feet, burrow 30 ft., swim 60 ft., fly 200 ft. (good) Melee bite +19 (2d6+1), 2 claws +19 (2d6+1), tail slap +14 (1d8+1) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. (15 ft. with bite) Special Attacks agonizing breath (Fort DC 21, 6 rounds), blinding breath (Fort DC 21, 3 rounds), breath weapon (80 ft. cone, 1d4 rounds, Ref DC 21, 12d4 acid and bludgeoning) Spell-like Abilities CL 12th, concentration +14 At will—control water, obscuring mist Spells CL 3rd, concentration +5 1st (6/day)—alarm, protection from good (DC 13), ray of enfeeblement (DC 13) 0th—arcane mark, detect magic, detect poison, mage hand, message Statistics Str 13, Dex 26, Con 21, Int 14, Wis 17, Cha 14 Base Atk +12; CMB +14; CMD 33 (37 vs. trip) Feats Blind-fight, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Flyby Attack, Mobility, Weapon Finesse Skills Appraise +13, Bluff +13, Fly +21, Intimidate +13, Knowledge (arcana, nature) +13, Perception +14, Sense Motive +14, Spellcraft +13, Stealth +17, Survival +14, Swim +21; Racial Modifiers uses Dex to Swim Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic SQ flight. nimble, terrible claws, water breathing

Ancient Yellow Dragon     CR 16 XP 76,800 LE Huge dragon (air, water) Init +11; Senses blindsense 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., dragon senses, Perception +25 Aura frightful presence (300 ft., Will DC 24) Defense AC 40, touch 20, flat-footed 28 (-2 size, +11 Dex, +1 dodge, +20 natural) hp 283 (21d12+147) Fort +17, Ref +23, Will +17 DR 15/magic; Immune acid, paralysis, sleep; SR 26 Offense Speed 60 feet, burrow 30 ft., swim 60 ft., fly 250 ft. (good) Melee bite +30 (2d8+11), 2 claws +30 (2d8+11/19-20), tail slap +25 (2d6+11) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. (20 ft. with bite) Special Abilities agonizing breath (Fort DC 27, 10 rounds), blinding breath (Fort DC 27, 5 rounds), breath weapon (100 ft. cone, 1d4 rounds, 20d4 acid and bludgeoning, Ref DC 27), brine storm (10d4 acid, Ref DC 27), crush (2d8+6, Ref DC 27), graceful attacks Spell-like Abilities CL 21st, concentration +25 (+29 casting defensively) At will—control water, control weather, control winds, obscuring mist Spells CL 11th, concentration +15 (+19 casting defensively) 5th (5/day)—cone of cold (DC 19), polymorph 4th (7/day)—dimensional anchor, enervation, fire shield, resilient sphere (DC 18) 3rd (7/day)—dispel magic, haste, heroism, protection from energy 2nd (7/day)—bear’s endurance, invisibility, mirror image, scorching ray, see invisibility 1st (7/day)—alarm, comprehend languages, mage armor, protection from good (DC 15), ray of enfeeblement (DC 15) 0th—arcane mark, detect magic, detect poison, light, mage hand, message, prestidigitation, ray of frost, read magic Statistics Str 19, Dex 32, Con 25, Int 18, Wis 21, Cha 18 Base Atk +21; CMB +33; CMD 48 (52 vs. trip) Feats Agile Manuevers, Blind-fight, Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Flyby Attack, Improved Critical (claw), Iron Will, Mobility, Stand Still, Weapon Finesse Skills Appraise +25, Bluff +25, Fly +31, Intimidate +25, Knowledge (arcana, nature) +25, Perception +25, Sense Motive +25, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +23, Survival +26, Swim +31; Racial Modifiers uses Dex to Swim Languages Aquan, Auran, Common, Draconic, Giant SQ flight. nimble, terrible claws, water breathing

[fanmoose12]

Have you ever done like a high school aged au except Levi and Hanji are penpals?

so levihan here aren't exacty penpals and it's a high school!au, but this idea has been living in my head ever since i received your ask so i hope you enjoy this fic, anon, because i dedicate it to you <333

As cliche as it sounded, but Hange never thought that her life was gonna be this way.

When she finished her journalistic degree, when she graduated from university on top of the class, everyone kept saying, "A bright future is ahead of you, Zoe. The whole world is at your fingertips..."

And Hange had believed them, Hange had expected it too. Uncovering the truth, saving people with the might of her words, making the world a better place one article at a time. Hange couldn't wait to get started and make her dream come true.

And then...

And then every serious newspaper turned her application down, not ready to give a chance for someone with a lot of skills and even more brains, but not enough experience, and then her pride got in the way, and so she didn't wish to settle for some local, small newspaper, refusing to waste her degree and years of hard work on some mediocrity.

And now, here she is - working as an advice columnist for Sina's Gossip.

Not a place Hange ever thought she'd end up at. Not a place she would have ended up at, if she had a choice. But she didn't have that choice, had taken it away herself when she refused offers from more respectable newspapers and didn't get a job at the place she had aimed for.

The magazine isn’t large, small enough for Hange not to know about it at all prior to receiving the job offer. She wouldn't have looked at that job offer twice, would have dismissed it immediately after seeing the name Sina's Gossip written on top, but as chance had it, she scrolled through the letter and saw the name at the end.

Erwin Smith.

The Erwin Smith, a local star who had disappeared from public eye some years ago. And now Hange knew where he had gone to.

He was only in his thirties, and already made a name for himself after he uncovered a conspiracy at the local pharmaceutical company. Just like Hange, perhaps even more so, he had a bright future ahead of him. But suddenly he quitted his job and founded his own magazine.

Hange would be lying if she said she wasn't at the very least a little bit intrigued at Erwin's sudden change of course.

That's why she agreed to a meeting with him. And that was her mistake.

Because Erwin turned out to be handsome, intelligent and charming to the point of ridiculousness. He smiled, spoke a few flattering words and next Monday Hange was already on her way to Sina's Gossip, where she started off as a mere copy editor.

It's been three years since that fated meeting, and Hange is still here, now promoted to an advice columnist. And, despite it not being what she dreamed of, despite working at a gossip magazine she used to despise... She likes it here.

She likes the people she works with, and she likes people she works for.

The letters people send her, asking for an advice or sharing their grievances, Hange likes them too. Enjoys reading them again and again, mulling over each word, looking at presented problem from each angle and doing her best to come up with the best advice possible.

Perhaps it's a simple wishful thinking or whispers of an ego she still hasn't lost, but Hange likes to think she helps these people. Solves their problems, guides them through trying times. Or brightens their day, at least.

She's not saving the world like she dreamt of, but she's making it a better place - or strives to, at least. Sometimes people she helped write her again, thanking for kind and wise words. Hange takes huge pride in that. The job pays well, enough for her to rent a small apartment and live comfortably, but it's these sincere words of gratitude that she treasures the most.

And what makes her hold onto her position in Sina's Gossip even more is the people that work alongside her. Erwin is a kind, if a little dorky man. And he gathered a team of similar people. They're all experts in their respective fields too, Erwin went through great lengths to get them all aboard.

When Hange just started working, the prospect of meeting new people made her more than a little bit nervous. As much as she liked other people and enjoyed getting to know them, getting along, truly belonging somewhere was always a problem for her. Too loud and too weird, she was usually an outcast.

But not at Sina's Gossips.

There, almost right from the beginning, ever since she walked through the glass sliding doors and met a tall man who started sniffing her, she knew she would feel right at home.

In the end, she wasn't wrong. The employees of Sina's Gossips became colleagues, then friends and then family.

She loves them all, even the grumpy midget who opens the door to her office without knocking, his face showing no ounce of friendliness or joy.

But— he's holding a cup of coffee in his hands, and even if Hange were truly annoyed, she'd forgive him just for that.

"Four-eyes," he says, a greeting and complaint at the same time. Hange lets it slide too. Levi hands her the paper cup with coffee, and it's still hot, almost burning her fingers. Lifting the cup to her lips proves that the coffee is black with three sugars, just as Hange always takes it. For that, she's ready forgive Levi any possible sin. "Are you neglecting your work once again?"

"No," that is an offence worth pouting, and Hange does exactly that. She wasn't neglecting anything, how could he even think about it. She's just been staring in the distance for... Hange glances at the clock on her computer screen... For almost ten minutes now.

Alright, maybe, Levi wasn’t completely wrong about that one. Not that Hange will ever admit it to him.

“Did you check the letters I send to you then?”

Hange blinks, a little startled. Letters? It’s the letters day already?

Another quick glance to her computer screen tells her that yes, it’s Tuesday and the letters day already.

Levi takes a seat at the other side of her desk with an irritated grumble. “I sent them to you last night, you ass.”

Hange snickers at the profanity. For an editor, Levi possesses a surprisingly foul mouth.

“I’m checking them now,” she bites her lip, opening the mail. Right beneath advertisements and notifications from her social media, there is a letter from Levi, just as he said there would be. Hange opens it, downloading the archive. As soon as she clicks on it, her eyes light up in anticipation. She starts scrolling down, swiftly going over each letter.

A father who doesn’t know what to give his estranged son for his tenth birthday…

A woman who is worried that her sister is dating a gangster…

A strange man who lost his pet lobster…

A teenage girl who isn’t sure what she wants more – to move to another city to the university of her dreams or stay at her hometown with her best friend and boyfriend…

Hange greedily drinks in every word, hurrying to get to the bottom. What if there is a letter from him…

Levi interrupts her by kicking her leg under the desk.

“I’m glad you finally decided to pay attention to your work,” he pauses, his scowl deepening. In her head, Hange finishes his sentence for him – but now, I want you to pay attention to me. God, Levi is just the cutest. So endearing and precious, and he tries to hide it so hard. Nothing gets past Hange, though. “But I didn’t come here to stare at your deranged smile.”

Obediently, Hange shifts her gaze from a screen to Levi, staring at him with a hand beneath her chin. “Why did come here then?”

“You have a meeting this Friday, remember?”

A meeting, meeting… It takes Hange a long moment to catch up with what Levi is talking about.

“A meeting!” she yells, when it dawns on her at last. She snaps her fingers, grinning at Levi. “Of course, a meeting, with that guy from, mm…” she frowns, tapping her forehead. “From Monkey Island?”

“Money Island,” Levi corrects, but he does so with a hoarse chuckle, and Hange mentally pats herself on a back.

After all, who doesn’t enjoy making their attractive co-workers laugh? Especially if they’re just as broody as Levi?

“Do you remember his name at least?”

“Zeke Yeager, right?”

“Right,” Levi nods, and it could be Hange’s imagination, but his face becomes just a little darker, and his voice just a little gruffer.

Hange’s senses start tingling…

“Do you know each other?”

And, yep, there it is – Levi purses his lips, turning his head to the side to mutter a quiet curse. “We’ve graduated from the same university.”

In what world that is a reason enough for such apparent dislike? Hange longs to know more, find out every possible detail.

Levi sees that desire reflect on her face, and sighs. “He’s an asshole,” he reveals. “Who loves his asshole little brother.”

It doesn’t explain much anyway, but Hange feels like it’s the best she can get out of Levi. She decides to surrender and quell her curiosity, just this once.

“This is the only reason why you came? To remind me about the meeting? I have an assistant for that, Levi.”

Lifting his thin eyebrow, Levi gives her a long look. Hange struggles not to fidget under it. What has gotten into him?

“You really don’t remember,” Levi shakes his head, his disappointment more than transparent. “Four-eyes, Berner is on a sick leave. Had been for three days already.”

Oh, right… that’s why no one answered when she yelled a greeting upon entering the office. That’s why she forgot about the letters day. And that’s why she was staring in the distance for almost ten minutes.

She awkwardly giggles, rubbing her neck. “It just slipped my mind.”

“Lots of things do,” Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget about meeting with Yeager, though. He’s an asshole but—”

“But an important man,” Hange finishes for him. She knows that, can hardly forget about that, since Erwin is so adamant at reminding her every time they cross paths at the office. “I know, I know, that interview is important just as that Zeke is. It can make our magazine more popular and blah, blah, blah.”

“Not only our magazine,” Levi sharply retorts. “It’s a chance for you too, Hange. Don’t ruin it.”

There is an uncharacteristic intensity in his voice, one that turns Hange speechless.

It’s a surprise that Levi knows about her ambitions at all, of course, she told him same as she told practically every person she came across. One day, I’ll show you, I’ll show you all just how great I can be. But it’s a surprise Levi not only knows, but remembers about it. It’s a surprise that he seems to care whether she truly achieves her dreams or not.

“Do you wish to come with me?”

It tumbles out of her lips without a second thought. But just as her mouth starts moving, Hange realizes that she truly wants it, wants to have Levi there with her. As a moral support, if nothing more.

Levi doesn’t answer her right away. His eyes narrow, as he mulls it over with his hand on his chin.

“Zeke doesn’t like me,” he mutters. “I will only make it worse.”

“Or you will make it better,” Hange winks, pressing her elbows into the desk to lean closer to Levi. Now that she knows what she wants, she doesn’t hesitate to apply a bit of pressure. “Maybe, he secretly likes you.”

Levi scoffs, crossing hands on his chest. “I doubt it.”

Despite his curt answer, Hange knows that she is close. Levi is almost ready to break. To ensure that, she decides to play a little dirty. “Levi,” she tilts her head and pinches her eyebrows, sticking her bottom lip out. Her puppy eyes aren’t that impressive, not nearly as good as Nanaba’s, but, for some reason, they seem to always work on Levi. “Pretty, pretty please, will you go with me?”

Levi curses, and that’s how Hange knows that she won. “If I end up destroying your whole career, four-eyes,” he points a finger at her. “That’d be your fault.”

“If you ruin my career, that means I’ll stay here with you forever. Won’t that be splendid?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his face seems pensive, thoughtful. Something in Hange’s heart pangs at that.

“Are you going to Nanaba’s place this Sunday?” she asks to change the topic. And distract herself from the strange feeling Levi’s expression provoked.

“No,” Levi answers. Hange grins.

Levi always says no, always tells them that he won’t let them pull him into their shitty shenanigans again, always swears that this is the last time he dragged their drunk asses home.

And yet, he shows up time and time again. He complains, calls them idiots, drunken fools and disgraces to society, but he still shows up. If that’s not a sign of true friendship, Hange doesn’t know what true friendship is.

“Can’t wait to hang out with your broody mien, shorty!” she exclaims, laughing when Levi flips her off. “Don’t forget your gloomy attitude!”

“And don’t you forget about letters I sent to you,” Levi stands up, throwing his paper cup in a trash bin next to Hange’s desk. “You have two days to answer them all.”

“I know, I know,” Hange waves him off. “I don’t need you or Moblit to tell me how to do my job.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at that, looking overly skeptical. “Two days,” he dryly reminds her before leaving her small office.

For a moment more, Hange continues staring after him with a fond smile on her lips.

Back to work, Zoe, she shakes herself and returns her attention to the computer screen. Her mail is still opened there, and Hange scrolls down to the end, searching for a username she hopes will pop out.

Almost near the end, it does, and Hange can’t keep in a quiet squeal of delight.

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

The username is a bit ridiculous, pompous even, so Hange opts for a shorter and, in her opinion, more accurate one – lover boy.

Every two weeks without a fail, that same user sends Hange a letter, asking for an advice. They all wary in everything, but the subject – a person the lover boy has a crush on.

What do I do to become closer to her, what is the best way to make her smile…

Each and every letter, without a fail, brightens Hange’s day, no matter how shitty it was. The care, affection and love that radiate from these letters melt her heart and strengthen her belief that the world is truly a wonderful place if kind-hearted people like him still live here.

Apparently, romance isn’t quite dead yet.

Gripping the edge of her chair to at least try and conceal her excitement, Hange eagerly opens the letter and starts reading.

Thank you for your last advice, as always, it helped.

We’re growing closer, at least, it feels like we do. However, there is another problem that I hope you can help me with.

Admittedly, I’m not very good with my words. I never know what to say to tell the others how I feel, and sometimes I can come as rough and rather rude. It’s a fault of mine I had ever since childhood, and, truth be told, it never bothered me much.

But with her… it’s a bit different.

She can take a joke, and I know she doesn’t really mind my manner of communicating, but, still, I wish I could show her just how much she truly means to me. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t quite realize it. Doesn’t really understand just how amazing and wonderful she is.

I know that the subject is not exactly ordinary, but your advices helped in the past, and I believe it will help this time too. Even if it wouldn’t, it’d be interesting to read your opinion on that.

Thank you in advance.

After finishing the letter, Hange starts rereading it, rubbing her forehead in thought. The lover boy is right, the subject isn’t easy at all. The lack of details and context complicates things even further.

A lot of people struggle at communicating what they feel, and it’s especially true about romantic feelings. But different people struggle in different ways.

Someone like Moblit, for example, is open enough with his affection, but he’d stutter to death sooner than confess to someone.

Someone like Erwin can charm pretty much anyone. His carefully crafted words and easy, handsome smile do all the job for him, but his words are crafted just a little too carefully and his smiles come a little too easily, and, as a result, he only rarely comes off as truly sincere.

And then there is Levi, whose walls are higher than skyscrapers and mightier than a fortress. But once you get past them, once you invest enough time and effort to break them down, you’ll find a gentle, caring man, who just isn’t used to showing his true feelings.

Hange can only guess what type the lover boy is.

Sighing, she decides to leave his letter for now and deal with it after she finishes with the rest. Somehow she feels that finding a lost lobster would be much easier than dealing with that particular dilemma.

***

A couple of busy days, filled with Erwin's warnings - Hange, remember the reputation of our agency rests on your shoulders, Nanaba's cheerful encouragements - you can do it, Hange! you'll charm the guy in no time, I know you will, Mike's horrible jokes - if you can't charm him, just ask Levi to punch him, that might do the trick too, and Moblit's frantic remindings, spoken over the phone in a throaty voice, later Hange and Levi arrive to the café Zeke had chosen for their meeting.

“It looks fancy,” Hange whispers to Levi, eyeing the entrance with a slight pout. “I didn’t know it’d be so fancy.”

“That’s Zeke for you,” Levi grunts. “Fancy asshole.”

“R-right,” suddenly every single precaution Erwin had told her come back, more frightening than ever. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the café seems even fancier, and Hange spares a longing look at her attire – an over-sized yellow pullover thrown over a light green plaid shirt with a brown khakis and worn-out converses. It’s not something one would call professional or stylish, not that she owns anything much better… but now Hange wishes she at least combed her hair.

She doesn’t know what Zeke looks like, hasn’t bothered with looking him up, since Levi is accompanying her, but she easily spots him even without Levi’s help.

Just as the café’s entrance, just as its interior, Zeke looks fancy. He’s not overdressed, in his dark green shirt and light cardigan he is all but casual, but damn, he is one of the leading journalists at the magazine called Money Island, and it clearly shows.

Levi wasn’t wrong about the fancy part, but he also failed to mention that Zeke is handsome. Extremely so. Blond and bearded, he is not exactly Hange’s type, but, well… there are exceptions to every rule.

Not just attractive, but, apparently, Zeke is a gentleman too.

He rises from his seat as soon, as he sees Hange, a blinding in its brilliance smile curving his thin lips.

“Hange Zoe,” he greets and eagerly shakes her hand. “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face, doesn’t even diminish, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, when they land on Hange’s companion.

“I didn’t know you’d bring a friend.”

His voice is friendly, if only a little surprised, but his eyes are colder than they’d been before.

“It’s our editor,” Hange pats Levi’s back. “Levi—”

“We’ve met before,” Zeke’s still showing that same smile, but there is just enough frost in his voice to tell Hange that there is no secret affection between him and Levi.

“I’m glad Hange invited me to trail along. It’s nice to see you again, Zeke.”

Levi doesn’t bother hiding his sarcasm or schooling his expression in something more amicable. Hange rolls her eyes and kicks him as soon as Zeke turns around.

Will it kill you if you try to act a little friendlier? her gaze asks him.

I warned you about this, Levi’s huff answers.

Oh, well. At least, he didn’t call her four-eyes in front of Zeke. Clearly, that’s an improvement.

Hange sighs and sends a quick prayer that this meeting won’t turn into a complete disaster. She sits down in a booth across from Zeke and hopes that her smile will be enough to counter any possible tensions.

“The strawberry cupcakes are exceptionally good here,” Zeke notes, when a waitress bring them menus.

Without looking up from a menu, Hange nods. The prices in this café are much higher than she is comfortable with. She’d never bring her friends here, but, well… Zeke isn’t a friend, so Hange swallows down her discontent and orders herself a coffee with a strawberry cupcake.

She doesn’t even like strawberry cupcakes.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Zeke says after three of them receive their orders.

Hange takes a sip from her coffee – it’s honestly not that good to be so pricey – and tries to look composed and professional.

Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she is here. An interview, Erwin told her, but why would anyone want to interview her? She’s not a celebrity – not an actor or an artist, she’s a journalist, who works for a small, local magazine.

Why would a person like Zeke and a magazine like Money Island be interested in someone like her?

“I’ve prepared a small list of questions…” Zeke takes out his tablet, turning it on. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” Hange says, smiling when she feels Levi’s calf press to hers in a silent encouragement.

“So tell me more about yourself – your hobbies, talents outside of work…”

It starts easy like that, and Hange loses herself in her ramblings so much that she doesn’t notice that Zeke isn’t taking any notes.

But after a few trivial questions – what do you like about journalism, what made you choose this career path, what are subjects you’re most passionate about – everything gets just a little bit stranger.

“What are your greatest strengths?” Zeke asks, then follows it with, “What are your greatest weaknesses?”

Where do you see yourself in five years? What’s your dream job? Do you consider yourself successful?

One question after another tumbles out of his lips, and soon Hange realizes.

It’s not a simple interview, it’s a job interview.

A confused look Levi sends her confirms her suspicion.

“Mister Yeager?” Hange calls after a question about how she prefers to be managed.

“Call me Zeke,” he retorts charmingly.

“Zeke,” she forces a smile and hopes it doesn’t look too fake. “I don’t wish to appear rude… but what is the meaning of this? I thought you wanted an interview for your magazine?”

“It’s more for me than Money Island,” Zeke confesses. “I wish to get to know you better.”

Beside her, Levi tenses. Amongst the noise and clutter of the café, Hange can almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting. She doesn’t spare a glance in his direction, too busy gawking at Zeke.

“May I ask…” she clears her throat, feeling too far away from her comfort zone. “…Why?”

“Sina’s Gossips is a fairly small magazine,” Zeke begins, his voice as sugary as a strawberry cupcake before Hange. “But it became ten times more popular after you started working there. Clearly, you have a lot of potential, and something tells me that advice columnist is not your dream position. So I thought you’d be interested in my offer.”

“Your offer?”

“To change your workplace.”

“But I have no experience in the finance area.”

“I’m willing to give you a chance,” Zeke says graciously. “You’ll have to be approved my by superiors first, of course, and then you’ll need to undergo a bit of training...”

Hange can’t help but frown. “I can’t just abandon my previous position like that.”

“I’m not asking you to. Not now, at least.”

“So what exactly it is that you want?”

It’s Levi who asks, and his low, almost menacing voice startles Hange. She turns to look at him, but his face is as guarded and neutral as it always is.

Zeke raises an eyebrow, his expression curious as he studies Levi. But when he shifts his attention back to Hange, the same handsome smile is already plastered on his lips. “I want to offer a collaboration project. We can use your platform to let people ask things, not about their everyday struggles, but to ask you for an advice about their finance related problems. Our magazine can advertise it, and this will help to expand both yours and ours audience. And…” Zeke pauses, lowering his voice just a fraction. “It will give us a chance to see if you’re up to the job at Money Island or not.”

“I…” it’s a lot to take in, and, naturally, Hange struggles to find her own words. That’s why she’s so grateful when Levi decides to step in.

“We have to discuss with our boss first. Then we can give you a definite answer.”

There is an edge to Zeke’s smile that tells Hange exactly what he thinks about Levi’s interruption. However, it disappears instantly, in a blink of an eye. With his features much more relaxed, Zeke waves a waitress over and asks to bring them a bill.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer,” he says as he stands up. “I enjoyed our time together, Hange Zoe. And I know our companionship will bring me just as much pleasure. I hope we’ll keep in touch.”

He leaves after that, but Hange isn’t yet ready to go. She pushes the cupcake around the plate, mulling it over.

“What do you think?” she asks Levi after five minutes of silence.

“What do you think?” he shoots back, and Hange scoffs, kicking him under the table.

“I asked you first.”

Levi doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at her for a long moment, and there is something in his eyes, something Hange can’t quite understand the meaning of. She wants to know, though, almost asks him, but then Levi breaks the eye contact and slumps back in his chair.

“You’ve always wanted to do something more, right? It’s your chance, Hange.”

“And…” she swallows a heavy lump in her throat and briefly wonders where it had come from. Levi is right, that what she always wanted. Then why she is so hesitant to even entertain the idea? “Do you think I should take it?”

“It’s your chance,” Levi repeats.

He stands up and wraps his hand around her elbow to push Hange up too. His touch is too careful, almost gentle, and the confusion inside her continues to grow.

“Let’s go back to work,” he says, and adds in a voice so quiet, Hange almost misses it. “You did well, Hange.”

***

Hange goes to find Erwin as soon as they return to the office. She doesn’t tell him about the second part of Zeke’s offer, about the possibility that she’ll soon leave Sina’s Gossips and all of its employees, and focuses only on their future collaboration. Erwin listens to her frantic retelling with a calm, attentive face. He agrees to Zeke’s offer without much thought.

“That is,” he hastily adds, “if you wish to proceed with it, Hange. I don’t wish to force you, so if it’s not something you’re interested in...”

“No, no,” she shakes her head and hopes that the smile she forces on doesn’t look pained. “I’ll be happy to work on this project.”

Is she truly happy, though? Hange isn’t sure anymore.

***

She spends the whole evening and most hours of night thinking about it.

She goes to the Money Island’s website and reads most of their recent articles. She googles the most prominent employees and reads about them too, every bit of information she can get her hands on.

When the sun is starting to peek out from the horizon, Hange looks up Zeke. She finds out he has his own youtube channel, where he talks – no surprise here – about finance.

Being rich is easy

God, even the name of the channel reeks of arrogance.

But Hange has to admit – Zeke is good at what he’s doing. His pretentious manner of speaking and his apparent habit of scratching his ear is a little irritating, but he talks with confidence and ease that shows just how much knowledge and experience he has.

His videos are engrossing and his articles are, without a doubt, extremely well-written.

Hange likes Zeke, finds him interesting enough, but what he talks and writes about… she can’t help but think that it’s a bit too dull for her taste.

And it’s ironic, it’s foolish, she should be on a cloud nine from the opportunity presented to her. Hange feels like she would have been on a cloud nine… Three years ago.

But now she has a job she loves and people she loves working with. Should she really leave it behind just like that? Can she?

Then again, can she leave behind a dream she nurtured for as long as she could remember? Can she forget about every ambition and desire?

She doesn’t find an answer to that in the evening, it doesn’t come to her during the night.

And Hange can only hope that she’ll be able to answer it when the time comes.

***

But, instead, Saturday comes, and Hange forces these thought out of her head.

She wants to forget about her doubts, and with Nanaba’s fingers in her hair, a bottle of cold beer in her hands and Mike’s deep voice in her ears, forgetting about everything else is surprisingly easy.

They’re at Nanaba’s summer house, gathered around a brightly-lit brazier. Hange is warm, relaxed and content. Mike’s story about some fisherman from his hometown is a little boring, but Nanaba remedies that fault by whispering sarcastic comments to Hange.

When Mike’s thrilling tale is finally over, Erwin clears his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

“In case some of you didn’t know, Hange had a very peculiar meeting yesterday…”

“Right,” Nanaba’s grin is too wide and gleeful for Hange’s taste, and when Nanaba fixes her eyes on her, Hange involuntarily squirms. “Very peculiar indeed.”

Knowing but not liking where this is going, Hange leaves the warmth of Nanaba’s lap and moves away. This action brings her to Levi’s side, and he tenses, but doesn’t protest which Hange takes as a sign that she can become a little bolder and lean on his shoulder.

Perhaps, he’ll shield her from Nanaba’s curiosity. Although, Hange has to admit that it’s highly unlikely. No one can stop Nanaba if she gets curious about something. Hange always admired that about her. Not now, though.

“So tell us, Hange,” Nanaba slowly begins, her eyes glinting in the light of the fire. Hange takes a quick survey, and confirms that, yep, everyone is looking at her. Apparently, Nanaba is not the only who is curious. “Did you have a good time?”

“Well, Zeke’s offer looks promising, and that project certainly is intriguing…”

“God, leave that boring stuff to Erwin,” Nanaba rolls her eyes.

Mike agrees with her by adding, “Not everyone here is as nerdy as you two.”

“Exactly,” Nanaba nods. “We want to know more about Zeke. Is he handsome?”

Perhaps, it’s the beer or the warm atmosphere or the fact that everyone – including Levi – is looking expectantly at her, but Hange chuckles and says, “Very much so. Not in the way our fearless leader is,” she salutes Erwin with a bottle, enjoying the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “But he’s still attractive.”

There is pure wickedness in Nanaba’s gaze, when she leans a little closer to Hange and asks, “Is he as handsome as Levi?”

Hange chokes on her beer. Her eyes water as she coughs it out, her throat is sore, but with the help of Levi’s gentle pats, Hange manages to get her breathing back under control.

She glares at Nanaba as soon as she straightens out, but then remembers the stupid question and feels color rise to her face. She can blame it on a coughing fit. Probably. Hopefully.

“It depends on one’s preferences…” she mumbles, hating how weak her voice sounds.

Nanaba is merciless, though. “What’s your opinion then?”

It takes Hange more than a moment to gather enough courage to sneak a glance at Levi. Their eyes meet, but for no more than a heartbeat. Levi looks away instantly, his hands clenching into fists.

Hange decides to be honest then. Her gaze still fixed to Levi, she murmurs, “No, Zeke is nearly not as handsome as Levi.”

Nanaba coos, Mike guffaws and Erwin simply smiles, like that is exactly the kind of answer he expected.

Levi doesn’t react at all, but Hange is still pressed against him and so she feels – he relaxes considerably.

Hange relaxes too, and moving closer to his ear, she whispers, “Hey, help me get revenge on Nanaba.”

The look in Levi’s eyes is positively evil, wicked enough to send a shiver down a spine. Hange feels that shiver acutely, but… not because it scares her. Truthfully, it has a diametrically opposite effect on her.

“With great pleasure, four-eyes.”

“Oi, Nanaba!” Hange calls. She doesn’t know what to say next, finds it hard to concentrate with Levi so close to her, but she trusts he’ll back her up.

As always, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Is that your lipstick on Mike’s neck?”

There is no lipstick on his neck, Nanaba isn’t even wearing one, but they both panic and they both exchange quick glances. It’s enough of an evidence to make everyone laugh.

Mike is smiling, as he pulls Nanaba closer, tucking her under his arm. “We really suck at being discreet, aren’t we, Nana?”

“That we are,” she agrees with a smile as gentle and loving as Mike’s. “I guess there is something we want to tell you then.”

“About damn time,” Erwin shakes his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught you making out in the supply closet? I was getting tired of keeping quiet about it.”

“You didn’t keep quiet about it,” Levi grumbles. “Every time you caught them you ran to tell me.”

“And then me,” Hang gleefully adds.

Nanaba and Mike groan in unison, their faces red as tomato.

“We have the worst friends ever.”

Hange laughs. She very much begs to differ.

***

Beers and constant laughter very soon make all of them sleepy. That’s how Hange finds herself sandwiched between Erwin and Mike on a bed in the guest room, and though there is enough space for another person to fit in, Nanaba claims the master bedroom, and Levi takes one look at them and retires to the living room, sprawling over the couch.

In Erwin and Mike’s arms Hange feels safe and content. Her previous doubts take a seat back and let her enjoy the night with her friends. Thankfully, sleep comes to her that much easier than it did last night.

It doesn’t last for long, though.

The sun still isn’t up, but the world isn’t dark anymore, when Hange wakes up from her slumber.

Erwin is snoring into her ear, but there is a vacant place to her left, where Mike used to sleep. It’s not hard to guess where he had disappeared to, and Hange allows herself a small smile at the expanse of her friends’ happiness.

She doesn’t feel like sleeping anymore, so she throws one blanket over Erwin and snatches another one, wrapping it around her shoulders. With her feet bare and still dressed in a pajama shorts and Mike’s t-shirt that almost reaches her knees, she leaves the room and goes downstairs, walking outside. She takes a seat at a porch swing and draws a slow, deep breath, taking in the beauty around her.

The world is only starting to wake up, and grey color is more prominent than anything else, but there are just enough soft shades of purple, blue and pink to make up for it. Nanaba’s house sits just at the edge of a clearing that leads to a small lake, and the morning brings thick streak of fog that spreads over crystal surface.

It’s beautiful enough to take her breath away, and Hange loses herself in the calm, gentle feeling that finds its way inside her.

That feeling is strong enough to hide the sound of soft footsteps that approach her. Hange notices someone else’s presence only when the swing starts moving. She startles, her head darting to the side, but relaxes instantly, when she sees Levi’s sharp profile. He’s holding two cups of steaming tea in his hands, and hands one cup to Hange.

“Thank you,” she smiles, inhaling the sweet aroma of tea. It tastes just as sweet as it smells, she realizes after taking the first sip. Then, she turns her attention back to Levi. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I usually wake up at this time. Insomnia,” he says, and, right, now Hange remembers something-something about Levi sleeping not nearly enough for a normal human being. “Heard that you woke up and decided you might want a company.”

“How did you know that it was me who woke up?”

Levi gives her a short glance before shrugging and returning his gaze back to the scenery in front of them. “Your steps are different,” he answers, like it explains everything.

It does explain everything for Levi, Hange muses. He works in a strange, obscure way, so very different from other people. That’s why Hange likes him. That’s why she feels so comfortable with him.

Perhaps, it’s a fault of a dim, morning light or, perhaps, it’s her own sleepiness that changes her perception, but Levi looks a little different, softer around the edges. Because of it, Hange allows herself a small indulgence and moves close enough for their shoulders to touch.

Just a fraction, barely an inch, but she feels Levi move closer as well.

All of it – the colors merging on a horizon, the fog that makes everything look almost ethereal, the sweet tea made by Levi, Levi himself – fuse together to create an impossibly light, gentle feeling that very rarely visits Hange.

In that moment she feels happy, so happy that not even a brief thought of what’s going to happen if I leave is enough to ruin that mood. She simply drowns that pesky doubt down with tea and turns to look at Levi.

“I’m so lucky to have met you all,” she reveals to him in a quiet voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy before.”

Levi stares at her, and there is something in his eyes, something fierce and at the same time vulnerable that Hange can’t quite understand. She isn’t sure she wants to, not now, at least.

“Let’s stay like this,” she says, almost a plea. “At least, for a little while.”

“As you wish,” Levi agrees easily as though… as though whatever is it that she wants, he’ll get her.

The thought is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting, because it means he cares about her, because it means she’s not alone anymore.

And terrifying, because it makes her happy, and Hange isn’t sure she’d be able to part with that happiness, when the time comes.

***

No matter how much Hange wants to prolong that fuzzy feeling and stay in that small bubble with her friends, all too soon the weekend ends. Monday comes and with it arrives a new wave of responsibilities.

But not only responsibilities return – Moblit does too, and as soon as she sees him, Hange hugs him close to her chest, laughing when he starts complaining that she squeezes him too much.

“It’s been too quiet without your nagging!” Hange pats him on a back, smiling from ear to ear. “And you’ve missed one hell of a party! We’ve been sleeping so peacefully without your snores.”

“You like my snores,” Moblit argues, and he is right to do so. Moblit’s throaty snores lull her to sleep better than any lullaby. Besides, cuddling with him is always a delight, his tummy softer than any pillow. “And I’ve heard about that party already,” he continues with an almost sly look. “Nanaba told they found you and Levi getting cozy on a porch.”

Hange huffs, turning away from his knowing look. “I see Nanaba’s obsession with gossips is infectious.”

“It’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. Love for gossip is the requirement to get a position here,” Moblit jokes, and Hange shakes her head with a low chuckle.

Moblit’s been absent for just a week, but it was enough to make her miss him like crazy. She’s glad he is back. And more than anything, she wants to chat some more, but the work doesn’t wait.

She contacts Zeke as she drinks her first cup of coffee, and not even five minutes pass before he schedules another meeting with her.

There is no need for your editor to join us this time :)

Hange isn’t sure what irritates her more – Zeke’s apparent dislike of Levi or the stupid emoji.

However, Erwin’s words ring in her ear, yet another reminder that this is important, Hange, we can’t afford to blow this off, especially not with a man like Zeke on board. So she replies him with a stupid emoji of her own, and, gritting her teeth, adds that she is looking forward to their meeting.

Then, not wanting to repeat her last mistake, Hange checks the place Zeke has invited her to. This time it’s a restaurant, and a flashy one at that. The time he sets the meeting for – seven pm – is another hint that it is not a casual meeting, and therefore she needs to wear something better than her usual clothes.

She isn’t sure she can pull it off all by herself, though, and she isn’t sure there is at least one item of clothing in her closet that can be classified as fancy, so Hange asks Nanaba to help.

Nanaba agrees instantly, her eyes brightening up at the prospect. She promises to come over at the evening of the meeting with Zeke, bring some new clothes for Hange and pick up something classy.

At five pm sharp, just two hours before her meeting, Nanaba shows at Hange’s place, holding two large packages.

She doesn’t come alone, and with wide eyes Hange watches how Mike, Moblit and Levi trail inside her apartment after Nanaba.

“Erwin couldn’t make it, because he’s old and boring,” Nanaba cheerfully informs her. “But he asked to send him pictures of every look I’d pick for you.”

“Has anyone told you how wicked and vile you are?” Hange asks her with a glare that could almost rival Levi’s.

“Mike makes sure to tell me this regularly,” Nanaba flippantly replies. “Now go and get changed! We don’t have all evening.”

It takes five changes of clothes to finally find something that satisfies Nanaba’s fashion sense and doesn’t make Hange feel like she’s out of her element.

She is dressed in a dark brown suit with a black shirt underneath, and after Nanaba makes a controlled mess out of her hair, Hange has to agree – she looks very good.

“Let’s show you to the boys,” Nanaba whispers before taking a quick photo for Erwin. She pushes Hange into the living room, where Mike, Moblit and Levi are already waiting for her, all of them nursing a bottle of beer. “We’ve got yes from Erwin!” Nanaba cheerfully announces after checking her phone.

“That’s a definite yes from me too,” Mike nods in agreement.

“You look so handsome,” Moblit says earnestly, despite his shy smile.

Levi doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Hange either. As she waits for his verdict, Hange wonders if the desire to change her look, because Levi obviously doesn’t like it, is simply stupid or downright pathetic.

“Levi,” Nanaba glowers at him, when the silence stretches for far too long.

Hange wants to deflate the tension with some joke, but then Levi clears his throat. “Not bad, four-eyes,” he says, making her heart stumble. “Go get that stupid monkey.”

Hange wants to hug him, so, so much, but she’s afraid to ruin the suit, so she settles on thanking him with a bright, happy smile.

Levi’s expression softens like that is all the thanks he desires.

“Continue making heart eyes at Levi, and you’ll miss your little meeting, Hans,” Nanaba whispers.

Hange hopes the red on her cheeks will be interpreted as anger, but Nanaba is right – she has to hurry, all this effort would be in vain if she arrives even a little too late.

“C’mon,” Mike wraps an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll give you a lift.”

Hange smiles, feeling so grateful – to all of them. She wouldn’t be ready for this evening if it wasn’t for Nanaba, she probably wouldn’t get that deal with Zeke if it wasn’t for Levi, her column wouldn’t be so successful if it wasn’t for Moblit’s assistance and Mike’s constant help, she wouldn’t have this job, this family if it wasn’t for Erwin who decided to hire her.

They all wish her luck one last time at the entrance of the restaurant. Nanaba and Moblit fruitlessly try to peek inside and get a glimpse of Zeke, when Levi wraps his hand around her wrist, dragging Hange aside.

“It’s Tuesday,” he says matter-of-factly.

More than a little confused, Hange blinks, then nods in affirmative, she knows it’s Tuesday, she’s not that disorganized.

“It’s Tuesday,” he repeats, tilting his head just so.

It is only then, to Hange’s shame, that she finally understands what he means.

“The letters, right?” she grins, proud of her own quick-wittedness. It took her only a moment to guess.

“I sent them over already. If you won’t be too exhausted after the meeting…”

“I’ll check them out as soon as I get home,” she promises.

There is nothing else to say, nothing else to do but walk away from Levi and inside the restaurant, where Zeke is probably waiting for her. Still… Hange is reluctant to leave. There is something between her and Levi, something almost tangible, and it keeps her glued to his side.

This feeling, it grows bigger, harder to ignore, until—

Until it disappears, when Nanaba tugs at her hand. Hange allows her friend to pull her away from Levi, stopping just for a second to turn around and wave him goodbye. Levi’s face is set in the usual scowl, but his gaze softens, and it fuels Hange with determination and resolve.

She looks around and, encouraged by her friends’ unwavering support, steps inside the restaurant.

***

Just as Hange predicted, Zeke is already there. When he notices her approach, he stands up and with a dazzling smile and pulls a chair for her.

“Hange Zoe,” he all but purrs. “You’re absolutely ravishing tonight.”

His words are too sweet, Zeke himself is too sweet to seem genuine, but Hange gives him a smile nevertheless. His compliment doesn’t succeed in making her heart race like Levi’s quiet ‘not bad, four-eyes’ did, but it still pleases her.

She doesn’t believe he truly means it, knows that Zeke uses flirting to get something out of her, but, oh well… if a man like Zeke Yeager wants something from her… isn’t it already fluttering?

“I took a liberty to order for you myself, if you don’t mind,” Zeke says.

Hange does mind, not that she can express it now, after Zeke already ordered. That’s exactly what he was counting for, Hange can very well see it – in the slight curve of his mouth and an amused shine in his eyes.

“As long as the meal is delicious,” she murmurs slyly.

Zeke laughs, and Hange mentally congratulates herself. Erwin would be so proud.

Speaking of Erwin…

“My boss agreed to your offer, he’s very interested in it and hopes…”

“Hange,” Zeke cuts her off with a wave of his hand. “We have work email to discuss things like that. Delicious food, beautiful night… why don’t we simply enjoy it? We can talk about work later.”

Hange frowns, looking at the man before her intently. For the life of her, she can’t comprehend what does he want from her.

“You’re a journalist with bright future ahead of you,” Zeke says, like he knows what exactly Hange is thinking about. “I want to help you succeed, but, aside from that, you’re an intriguing person. I simply wish to get to know you better. Is it so bad?”

Either she really sucks at reading people, or Zeke is that good of an actor, but… he seems genuine enough. Hange struggles with keeping her suspicion.

Before she can give him an answer, their food is brought in. The plate before Hange looks more expensive than she could probably afford, and she is pretty sure she won’t be able to even pronounce the name of a dish, but she takes a first bite, and… can barely resist a moan.

It’s good, really good – spicy but not bitter, and just crunchy and juicy enough.

“Is it delicious?” Zeke quirks an eyebrow, smug and amused.

The dish is so tasty, Hange can’t find it in herself to snap at him. “It’s perfect,” she confesses, sending another slice into her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, to be honest, I was quite nervous about your reaction.”

Zeke doesn’t look nervous in the slightest, but if he’s so dead-set on playing a gentleman tonight, Hange can indulge him.

“So what exactly do you want to know about me?” she asks, pouring wine in both of their glasses.

“Ah, right,” Zeke pushes the glasses up his nose. “The first thing I’m interested in…”

***

They spend the whole dinner talking, jumping from one topic to another. Despite his arrogance, Zeke is an interesting man, he knows how to entertain and engage his companion, and so very soon Hange loses herself in conversation with him.

Time flies fast, and when they stand up from the table, Hange is shocked to discover that it’s almost ten in the evening.

Zeke remains a gentleman till the very end, and after paying their bill, he drives Hange home. He stops just outside of her apartment block, and when he turns off the engine, Hange knows she is ought to say something.

“I had fun. Thank you for the evening.” She says, and she means it. She doesn’t feel nearly as happy as when she is with her friends from Sina’s Gossips, but Zeke proved to be a good company. Hange is looking forward to working with him.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Zeke tilts his head, ever the charmer. “I’ll see you again?”

“Sure,” Hange agrees and gets out of the car. “Good night,” she yells into his open window and then hurries up the steps to her apartment.

Exhaustion sips into her bones the moment Hange crosses the threshold. She kicks off the shoes and takes off the suit, trudging up to the shower. Once she is clean and fresh, she falls onto her bed and gets under the blankets. Only then, Hange remembers her conversation with Levi.

With the last bit of her energy, she takes the phone into her hands and unlocks it, going immediately to the mail. She isn’t awake enough to read all the letters, so she just quickly scrolls through them. A thank you message from a man who found his lobster… a distraught mother who doesn’t know how to communicate with her son… a middle-aged teacher with a mid-life crisis… Hange scrolls further down, until she sees a familiar username.

She smiles and opens the letter.

Good day, and thank you again for the last advice. Admittedly, I was a bit skeptical about it, “trust that she knows you well enough” seemed just that side of too easy, but I think she does know me well enough to see through my rude exterior. What’s more, I think she knows me well enough to see things I don’t even wish to show her. I can’t yet decide if that’s a good thing, or a terrifying one.

Alas, there is another problem, one that bothers me constantly.

Without getting too much into details… there is a chance she might leave the company we both work for. I know it might not seem that awful, we can still remain friends even if we don’t work together, but… I’m afraid we’ll drift apart when she leaves. Without common ground, without our friends bringing us together, she wouldn’t have a reason to talk to me. Maybe, she wouldn’t even want to.

But that’s not the thing that bothers me the most. She hasn’t yet decided if she wants to leave or not, and, as much as I am reluctant to let her go, I… I wish she follows her dreams, even if they tear us apart. But she’s perceptive, and, as I’ve mentioned before, she knows things about me that I very well try to hide. So what if she learns about my reluctance? What if it somehow influences her final decision?

I don’t wish for that to happen, whether she stays or she leaves, I don’t want to be her reason for either.

Because if she grows to be unhappy about that decision… I don’t think I’ll be able to take.

I… don’t think I’ve explained my point clear enough, maybe, because it’s not clear enough in my mind too. However, as always, I put my trust in you.

You haven’t left me down before, after all.

Thanks for bearing with me. Hopefully, it’s not the last time.

Hange groans in frustration, as she comes to an end of the letter. Here she was hoping to receive some sweet news from her lover boy, but he presented her with another dilemma instead. And one that is so similar to hers too. Maybe, it’s a sign, a way of universe telling her… something. The message is not yet clear enough.

Perhaps, with a little time, she’ll be able to decipher it. But as for now, Hange decides, putting the phone on top of the bedside table, the only thing she really, really needs is sleep.

And, thankfully, it comes to her easily.

***

The next day Hange dives deep into work and stays in the depth of articles, lectures, textbooks and letters from readers for entire two weeks.

In almost everything, Zeke is the one to assist her. Email exchange, video calls, personal meetings… because of all that, Zeke seems to be constantly by her side.

He invites her to his company, organizes the tour around the offices, introduces her to every employee. They’re nice, Hange supposes. Overly politely and unnaturally friendly, but that’s to be expected from total strangers.

Zeke shows her his office – a big room with glass walls and large window that overlooks the city. It drives to a point just how different their newspapers are. It almost makes Hange self-conscious about inviting him to her own office. Thankfully, Levi is there to chase away any discomfort.

As soon as Zeke gets inside their office, Levi is there, glaring at him like he’s trying to burn a hole in his head.

“As Hange’s editor, I’m here to oversee your work with her,” he explains, and proceeds to critique everything Zeke does.

Zeke’s habit of scratching his ear makes him look like a monkey and his beard makes him look like a homeless person, his voice makes Levi’s head hurt, his cologne stinks, he talks too much and works too little, his jokes aren’t funny and his remarks are unnecessary. Levi finds a way to insult everything about Zeke.

Hange would have reprimanded him, she did a few times, but she can’t deny that Levi’s hatred is… kind of funny. It’s petty and childish, but at the same time hilarious to the point that Hange has to constantly bite the inside of her cheeks otherwise she’d be laughing at his jabs like a mad person.

Still, Zeke is an important business partner and her possible colleague, so…

“Please forgive Levi for his… lack of professionalism,” she tells Zeke when Levi leaves to bring them tea. Just moments before Levi had called Zeke ‘an insufferable snob who doesn’t give a single fuck about people around him’, so naturally, Hange feels that apology in an absolute necessity this time.

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Zeke smiles, and it looks just that side of arrogant, reminding Hange about Levi’s words and making her feel like maybe, his assertion of Zeke isn’t entirely wrong. “His reason for acting like that is perfectly understandable. When one stands between a man and his… well,” Zeke trails off, staring at Hange enigmatically.

His what? Zeke is standing between Levi and… what? Is it the reason why they don’t like each other so much? Is it something that happened in the past? Or is it a recent development?

Hange wants to ask, but the moment for this is lost, when Levi comes back, holding a trail in his hands.

“I spat into your coffee,” he says to Zeke with the most deadpan expression. If Hange didn’t know Levi a little better, she’d believe that he actually did it. But Zeke isn’t fooled so easily, so he just wolfishly grins and thanks Levi in a sweet voice. Levi swears under his breath and then turns to Hange, murmuring, “Yours is with three sugars.”

“Just as you like it,” Zeke sing-songs, and Hange can’t stop laughter from bubbling out of her throat at the sight of pure hatred on Levi’s usually indifferent face.

“Let’s get back to work,” she says, still chuckling.

Thankfully, they both listen to her.

***

When Zeke leaves to return to his own office, Hange breathes out in relief. She stretches her arms and sprawls out her long legs beneath the desk with a pleased hum. Working with Zeke is satisfying enough, but with just Levi around, she feels much more at ease.

“So,” she nudges his foot with her leg. “What’s up with you and Zeke? What is the source of a drama?” and, remembering Zeke’s previous comment Hange adds, “Did he steal your crush or what?”

Levi looks affronted. He glares at Hange, hands crossed on his chest and a slight pout curving his lips.

Hange thinks he’s going to tell her to fuck off, almost expects him too, but this time, Levi surprises her.

“Remember my cousin? Mikasa?”

Of course, Hange does. How could she ever forget Mikasa, the only person in this world with a scowl as scary as Levi’s?

“Well, Zeke has a little brother, a brat named Eren.”

Hange nods, she vaguely remembers Levi mentioning some brother, and, more than once, Zeke had bragged to her about Eren, his darling sibling.

“He and Mikasa are friends, and my idiot cousin has been pining after him for years.”

Hange has some troubles imagining a pining Ackerman, and she briefly wonders what Levi would act like, if he had been pining after someone. Can he even pine?

“Eren had been an asshole to her, even made her cry once, so...”

“So?” Hange prompts, practically at the edge of her seat.

“So I decided to teach him a lesson. I wanted to scare him a bit, but it kinda backfired when Zeke spotted the two of us. I wasn’t going to punch him or anything, but apparently that’s how it looked.”

“And?”

Levi sighs. “And Zeke did what he could to protect his little brother.”

“He punched you?” Hange’s eyes are wide, as she tries to imagine that particular scene. Zeke is so much bigger than Levi, if he had punched him… Hange suddenly feels very angry.

“No, although I wish he did. It happened just outside of our university, and so Zeke had me reported to the dean. Something about assaulting a minor… it almost got me expelled.”

“What a fucker,” Hange growls, her fist clenching involuntarily. She knew just how hard it was for Levi to get into that university and pay for the classes, and to think that he nearly got expelled because of something so stupid…

“It was an asshole move, I agree. But a part of me actually understands him.”

“Huh? Why?”

Hange can’t even fathom a reason to defend what Zeke did. She knows she would never forgive him for that. It doesn’t seem like Levi has forgiven him either, but he understands him? Hange doesn’t think she would be as gracious.

“Do you have a sibling, four-eyes?” Levi asks. “Or a cousin?”

“No.”

With a thoughtful expression, he hums. “That’s why you don’t understand.”

His answer confuses Hange. And at the same time, it intrigues her. She knows that a bond between siblings is a special one, and as an only child, she can’t grasp the meaning of it. Levi seems to cherish his relationship with Mikasa, even if he always calls her a brat and complains about her bad manners. It must be nice to have someone, a friend that lives with you in the same house. Hange can’t exactly imagine it, but she acknowledges the importance of it anyway.

“But enough of this,” Levi says, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Your collaboration with Zeke is almost at its end. Your article will come out in a few days, have you decided what are you going to do next? Have you already told Erwin that Zeke offered you a place at his newspaper?”

“I haven’t.”

She doesn’t quite know how to approach this conversation. What’s more, she doesn’t quite know what her decision is. Money Island is an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored, Hange doesn’t want to ignore it. A resignation letter that is hidden inside the desk's drawer is a testament to this. It will give her career a boost she always dreamed of, and Hange can’t let it just slide past her. She isn’t going to, probably, but… she is reluctant.

“We still don’t know if our collaboration will turn out to be a success or not,” she adds, an attempt to justify her indecisiveness. “Maybe, Zeke wouldn’t want to do anything with me, if we fail.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Levi rolls his eyes, apparently refusing to even entertain this idea. “The article will be a success. And you’ll do great at that job.”

Hange snickers in an attempt to lighten up the mood, to distract Levi from her unease. “Sounds like you just want to get rid of me.”

“It’s your decision,” Levi doesn’t deny, not confirm her comment. It sets Hange just a little further on edge. “What I want doesn’t matter whatsoever.”

His words sound familiar, strangely so, but Hange refuses to think about it any further. The words might sound like those from the lover boy’s letter, but the context is different. Levi and him are different. And whoever lover boy is devoted to, Hange is sure that she and that person are different too.

“I’m starving,” Levi stands up, a bit too abruptly, but Hange is too lost in her thoughts to take note of it. “Let’s steal some food from Mike.”

Hange smiles, grateful for the offer, and stands up to join Levi. “I saw Erwin bring yoghurt today.”

“We need to hurry then,” he grabs her hand, quickening her stride. “Otherwise Nanaba will steal it before we even have a chance.”

Hange laughs and eagerly follows after him.

***

When the article finally comes out, it turns out to be a glaring success. Both newspapers gain new audience, a number of newcomers bigger than Erwin had anticipated.

Everyone is happy and proud of Hange accomplishment. No one is surprised at her success.

Mike, Nanaba and Moblit all but run into her office, interrupting each other in their haste to congratulate her.

Levi is the last one to approach her. He wears an unusually open, almost happy expression.

“Told you’d do great,” he murmurs.

Hange knows she shouldn’t do it, knows that Levi won’t enjoy it, his aversion to invasion of his personal space is proverbial, but… Hange accomplished a lot, right? She deserves a little celebratory gift.

With that in mind, she shortens the distance between them and goes in for the tightest, squishiest hug she had in a while.

Levi grunts his protest, but doesn’t object further. In a move that sets Hange’s heart ablaze, he wraps his arms around her too.

Hange likes hugs, receives lots of them – at parties, she often cuddles with Nanaba and Mike, sometimes falls asleep with Erwin holding her close, and Moblit always gets too clingy when he has a little too much to drink. She enjoys embracing her friends, but a hug from Levi – perhaps, Hange tries to reason, because it is such a rare occurrence – makes her brim with unbridled happiness.

***

After the short, but very much enjoyed celebratory hug, Hange invites her friends to get celebratory drinks.

The evening is great, it is filled with pleasant conversation and so much laughter that Hange’s stomach starts to ache from it. The evening is great, could have been perfect… if Hange could forget about the resignation letter that is hidden inside her desk’s drawer.

It is a little after midnight, when they leave the bar and call it a night. But while everyone else heads to their homes, Hange decides to come to the office.

Almost wistfully, she turns on the computer. The first thing she sees is the time and the date, displayed at the bottom of a screen, that tells her it’s the early hours of Wednesday.

The second thing she sees is a notification that Levi sent her a letter.

Right. It’s letters day. Perhaps, the last one for her.

Hange opens the mail, her eyes instantly searching for the familiar username. She doesn’t find it.

She goes through the whole archive again, this time much slower. Still nothing. Then – what if third time is a charm – she scrolls down to the bottom once more. And…

No luck.

It’s the first time in a while that Hange doesn’t receive a letter from the lover boy. It can be a good thing, she supposes. Maybe, the lover boy finally confessed and his beloved stayed with him. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t need her advices anymore. Or, maybe… Maybe, she left. That will explain the absence of the letter too.

It’s just a letter, from a total stranger at that, but Hange feels sad. Her eyes water as she stares at the computer screen.

She can’t help but wonder – did lover boy’s beloved know about his feelings? Did she decide to leave anyway? Or was she none the wiser about the extent of his affections towards her? If so, did she regret leaving him behind?

Would Hange herself regret leaving her job and friends?

She’s not sure. The worst thing about regret is that it doesn’t appear until after you’ve already done something.

Maybe, she will regret it, maybe, she won’t. The only way to find out is to keep moving forward.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, Hange takes the resignation letter out of the drawer.

***

When she breaks the news to Erwin, he is not at all surprised. He’s not even angry or disappointed, he doesn’t ask to reconsider. A part of Hange wishes he did. That would give her an excuse to stay.

His smile is sad, but at the same time it’s proud. He thanks Hange for three years of hard work and wishes her the best of luck.

“When you’ll get rich and famous,” he says as he wraps his arm around her. “Think of us sometimes, even if briefly.”

Hange’s answering laugh sounds more like a sob. “How could I ever forget all of you?”

Erwin chuckles and wipes away her tears. “You’re a star, Hange, don’t you ever doubt it.”

***

Her last day at work ends with Hange getting shit-faced at their favorite bar. Everyone else is just as drunk as she is – Nanaba refuses to let go of her arm, Mike keeps asking her to call him every day, and Moblit has already cried for three times.

The only semi-sober ones are Erwin, who has to show up to shareholders’ meeting tomorrow morning, and Levi, who is an abnormal human being that alcohol holds no power over.

In the end, he is the one tasked to bring Hange home.

For the entire of their ride to her apartment complex, Hange does her best to behave. She breaks down as soon as they get inside.

Apparently thinking that forcing her to shower would be too much of a bother, Levi leads her straight to the bedroom.

Hange doesn’t fight it, too exhausted to do so, but when Levi starts tucking her in, she grabs his wrist.

“Levi,” she says, and the amount of alcohol she consumed earlier makes it easier to not give a fuck that her voice sounds almost pleading. “Levi, what do you think about me leaving?”

Levi has said nothing on the topic throughout the whole evening. And, while he has given her a hint about his stance on it before, and it probably wouldn’t matter at all, since she is going to leave anyway, Hange still wants to know.

“I told you before,” he doesn’t pull his hand away from her grasp, if anything he moves a little closer, sitting at the edge of her bed. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hange assures. “To me, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she looks deep into his eyes, but be it the influence of alcohol or the absence of her glasses… she can’t read him at all. “If you really do, maybe—”

“No.” Levi cuts her off sharply. “No, Hange, there is no maybe. It’s your decision, and my feelings can’t become your reason.”

Again, the words are familiar, but Hange is drunk. Hange is filled with alcohol and conflicting emotions and lingering doubts. Besides, she’s too lost in the intense look inside Levi’s eyes to make sense of anything else.

“Good night,” Levi whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather light, achingly gentle kiss. “I hope you will be happy.”

He leaves just before Hange thinks of asking him to stay.

***

Hange swears to stay in touch with everyone at Sina’s Gossips, and she fully intends to keep that promise, but then— then the work gets in the way.

Her first week at Money Island is all but a blur. There is so much to do, so much to learn, and Hange gets lost in it almost immediately.

She stays in the office after hours, she works during weekends, every waking moment is essentially spent on trying to make sense of it all. The employees of Money Island help, which Hange is immensely grateful for, and she is no stranger to working after hours, but… what made her power through it before is not there anymore.

After two weeks she spends on her new job, Hange can’t deny it anymore – her new position is boring.

All these numbers, charts, net worth, stocks options, so on and so forth… it’s so dull and tiresome, it sucks all of Hange’s enthusiasm and inspiration.

That thrill, that excitement, it isn’t there anymore, there is no passion to fuel her, no purpose worth pursuing.

At least, her new colleagues are nice enough. However… Hange can’t help but compare them to her old ones.

Pieck is funny and kind, but not nearly as kind as Nanaba. Porco’s jokes, no matter what he thinks about them, aren’t as hilarious as Mike’s, and watching the development of his relationship with Pieck doesn’t give Hange the same thrill as Nanaba and Mike’s relationship did. Onyankopon is so polite, and he’s always ready to help, but he isn’t as endearingly awkward and cute as Moblit. Her new boss, Magath, isn’t half the man Erwin is. And Zeke… Zeke doesn’t even begin to compare with Levi.

Hange wants to like them, she really does, but all this work leaves little to no time to hang out with her friends, and their absence makes her more unwilling to connect with the new colleagues.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hange continues working for another two weeks, hoping that maybe, with just enough time, she’ll get her spark back.

She is in the middle of writing another article, something about yet another failing company, when her phone pings, announcing a notification. Taking it a sign from above that she needs to take a break, Hange looks away from the computer screen and redirects her attention to the phone.

The notification announces a new letter, to her personal account. Intrigued, Hange opens it and almost squeals when she sees the username.

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

Hange stares at it for a long, long moment. The letter isn’t redirected as it usually was, meaning… the lover boy knows her personal mail address, or…

The lover boy is someone she actually knows.

Not sure which one is more improbable, Hange opens the letter. It’s an unusually short one.

It’s been almost a month since she left. I still miss her every damn day. Do you have any advice how to stop it?

In that moment, everything clicks. Every coincidence and conjunction, every moment she felt like she could connect to the lover boy, every time his dilemma perfectly reflected her own. The fact that he knows her email address and the fact that he mentioned one month, precisely the amount of time that passed since she left Sina’s Gossips… there are too many seemingly random things that together create a clear enough picture.

Hange rereads the letter again, just to make sure that it’s real, just to make sure that she isn’t imagining it, that it isn’t wishful thinking.

It doesn’t seem like it is, Hange doesn’t believe it is, and a realization forces a surprised, happy laugh out of her throat.

It takes her but a moment to set her mind, and then, Hange closes the word document with an article, not bothering to save it. She opens another one right after that, and starts writing what will be another resignation letter, this time addressed to CEO of Money Island, Theo Magath. When she finishes, Hange opens powerpoint and proceeds to make a presentation that consists of almost eighty slides.

Perhaps, not her best work, but Hange is confident it will suffice.

She doesn’t bother waiting for Magath to come back from his meeting to give him a letter. She bumps into Zeke just as she exits the small office they gave her, and she thrusts the resignation letter into his hands before he can pull her into one of his endless, mostly one-sided conversation that serve mainly to stroke his ego.

When he takes a look at the letter, Zeke seems regretful, but— not at all surprised.

“I hoped you’d stay with us for a little longer…” he confesses with a slow shake of his head. “But I guess we can’t do what we don’t love.”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says, a small compensation.

“Don’t be,” Zeke waves her off, as easily and smoothly as he does everything else. “However, if you ever decide to go on a date with someone taller than a middle-schooler…”

Really, even Zeke knows? Is she that oblivious?

“You’ll be the first one to know,” Hange laughs, feeling lighter than she did in weeks.

Without wasting anymore time, Hange ducks into her office, grabs what little things she brought here and then rushes to small, not at all impressive, but so dearly loved building of Sina’s Gossips.

Just before entering, she stops and looks up at the front door. Finally… she feels at peace.

A moment is all she allows, before she walks inside.

Her first stop is Erwin’s office, where Hange plugs a USB and starts her presentation before Erwin can even ask what she’s doing here. It takes absolutely nothing to convince him to give her position back, but it does take the whole eighty slides to make him at the very least consider her new proposition – a new segment where Hange will be observing local news. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and a promising one at that.

“But I still need you to take care of the advice column,” Erwin warns just after he surrenders to Hange’s enthusiasm that slowly starts to come back to her. “Mike is quite terrible at it.”

“Consider it done, chief!” Hange exclaims with a quick salute.

Erwin smiles and stands up to embrace her. “Then, Hange Zoe, welcome back to Sina’s Gossips.”

Hange is smiling so much, she worries that her face might break.

After Erwin, she runs straight into Nanaba’s arms. As they embrace, Nanaba laughs, then cries, then laughs again.

“God, Hange, I’m so happy you came back,” she says, wiping her tears. “I was this close to dying of boredom.”

“You don’t know boredom until you’ve worked in finance, Nana.”

They laugh in unison, and Hange’s heart is full of affection, when Nanaba wetly kisses her cheek.

Just before stopping at Moblit’s desk, Hange heads to break room and is lucky enough to find Mike eating a sandwich there.

Hange steals it with a delighted laughter, instantly taking a huge bite.

“Never thought I’d miss someone stealing my food,” he shakes his head with a big smile. “But here we are, I guess. It’s good to have you back, Hans.”

At first, Moblit doesn’t actually believe she is real. He rubs his eyes and squints at her, tentatively touches her arm, gives her another once-over, and whatever he noticed – perhaps, it’s her mismatched socks – convinces him that he isn’t seeing things.

And then gathers her in his arms.

“They made me work with Levi,” he whispers into her shoulders. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Hange laughs – she does it a lot today, compensating for that month she spent feeling sorry for herself – and pats Moblit’s shoulder.

“Speaking of our favorite shorty, where is he?”

“In his office, probably brooding as always. Since you left, he’s been doing it more often. ”

Hange thanks Moblit with a quick peck on his cheek, and then she is moving again, now heading to her final destination.

The inside of Levi’s office is dark, and awfully quiet. The only sound is the click-clack of the keyboard and the only light comes from the computer screen. It further highlights the dark circle under his eyes and the overall paleness of his face.

Hange clears her throat to get his attention.

Levi’s eyes snap to her, widening almost immediately. There is an ocean of questions, ready to spill from his lips, but Hange doesn’t give him a chance to voice any of them.

“So there is this guy, he’s been sending letters to me since forever. He’s so sweet, a true romantic, and, well, his letters were kinda the highlight of my week,” she pauses to take a quick breath, and continues. “And I’ve been rooting so hard for him, you know? I wanted him to get together with that sweetheart of his, but I also felt like she was kinda oblivious, if you get what I’m talking about. Perhaps, not completely blind, but with a vision poor enough to miss what is right in front of her. Or, perhaps, she always has her head up in the clouds and the guy is a little short, so it’s easy to miss him? And-”

“So you’ve figured it out then?” Levi interrupts her. His calmness makes Hange more nervous.

“I have.”

“Only now?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” a ghost of a smile dances around his narrow lips. “Completely blind then.”

Hange huffs, but she can’t resist a smile of her own. She takes a step towards his desk, hopping right on top of it.

“Just so we’re clear,” she touches his forearm, slowly moving her hand up to his shoulder. “You weren’t my reason to leave, Levi. And you aren’t the reason I’m staying. But,” she leans in, hoping that Levi is not as stupid and she is, and he gets the hint that she wants him to lean closer too. “You’re the reason I decided to come back. And for that, I can’t thank you enough.”

Hange closes her eyes, when Levi gently cups her cheek. With bated breath, she waits to feel his lips on hers.

Her lover boy doesn’t disappoint, and the gentle, loving kiss makes her head spin.

After a short moment of bliss, Levi pulls away, and Hange has to forcefully stop herself from chasing after his lips. He smirks at the dazed look in her eyes, and Hange just has to retaliate.

She strokes the skin of his cheek with the most tender of touches, shortening the distance between them with tantalizingly slow speed. Just when they’re less than a breath apart, Hange whispers, in a quiet, endlessly soft voice, “You know, Levi, wings of freedom is a really stupid username.”

Levi pushes her off the desk for that, but it’s still worth it. Even more so, since he catches her right in his arms.

And then her lover boy kisses her again. And again, and again, until her heart is so full of love that she can’t even find it in her to get angry at Mike, who snaps a picture of them and runs away to tell everyone the news.

“They’ll be gossiping about that for weeks,” Levi grumbles.

Hange laughs, smoothing the crease between his eyebrows. “Well, it’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. And didn’t you know? Love for the gossip is the requirement to get a position here.”