#cats just want the cup to stay with sasha
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ratatatastic · 2 months ago
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do you know how deeply funny it is to me that sasha tries so hard to share the cup and everytime hes met with "no captain keep going! shes all yours!"
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thestrangepoet · 17 days ago
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The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 4/?
Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU 
CONTENT WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)
← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →
──── •✧• ────
Martin – no, Champion, for that was who he was now – crept through the institute, his ears flat against his head. 
How long had he been technically missing for now? At least a week, if not more. And no one had notified the police. Not Jon, not Tim, not Sasha. Not his own mother, despite the fact Martin would call her almost daily to check in on her. Not his neighbours nor his…well. He didn’t have any friends outside the institute. 
He didn’t have any friends inside the institute either, it seemed. 
Champion padded past the grand oak reception desk in the front lobby. Almost immediately, his paws left the ground, which drew a purr of surprise from him, his little blue eyes growing wide.
“Oh, Champion! You came to visit me, did you?” 
Rosie, Elias’ assistant, gathered Champion into her arms, her thin, angular face all smiles and framed with bouncing red curls. Everyone’s face was all smiles when Champion arrived. Champion, who did nothing at all to actually help the institute. He couldn’t read properly like this. He couldn’t research, staying up all hours of the night to finish reports. He couldn’t go investigate leads across the country, nor pitch theories for statements. He couldn’t even make a cup of tea like this. 
Martin could do all those things. And not once had he been given a genuine smile in return, not a single sparkle in someone’s eye to say they were actually happy to see him. But as Champion? 
All he had to do was walk on by. 
The first few days, that attention had overjoyed Martin. All he’d ever wanted. But now, it stung, jabbing him in the chest and reminding him that all this fuss wasn’t for him. Not really. 
That people liked him better as a useless cat than a man who tried too hard and apologised for existing. 
“Oh dear, little guy, why the sad ears?” Rosie continued, sitting down and depositing Champion onto the immaculate desk in front of her. “Was Jonathan a meanie to you? Do you want Rosie to accidentally misplace his expenses form this month?” She scratched behind Champion’s ear with a perfectly manicured nail, but he couldn’t even muster a false purr in response. 
Everyone liked him better as a cat. Hell, maybe he was better at being a cat? 
Maybe he should just…stay a cat. Let Martin Blackwood become just another missing person, lost behind a veil of barely asked questions. 
Something stirred under his skin at that thought, like a cold fog rippling through his blood, sending all his fur on end. Champion jolted in shock; all too easily, he had forgotten what he wrestled with here. Sure, being turned into a cat sounded silly enough, but the architect of all this had been a Leitner book. 
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts, caring not for the jovial packaging they came in. 
Champion, now dealing with an alarming amount of adrenaline, leapt from Rosie’s desk and scampered away. He dashed through the corridors, paw pads skidding on the hardwood flooring, his tiny heart hammering away. 
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts…
He practically slid across the Research Department, not stopping even when one of the researchers reached for a bag of cat treats. 
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts! What if it could see him or hear him or—
He bounded through the austere, silent library, not sure what he was running from or if anything was even truly chasing him. But instinct tore through his limbs, too aware now of the sense of some unspeakable shadow prowling after him and delighting in his isolation. 
When the panic finally subsided, Champion had to take a moment to look around the room he’d bolted into. The room loomed around him, gloomy save for one desk light working hard to chase it all away. 
His desk light. 
Champion padded through the archival assistants’ office, wandering past Tim’s empty desk and Sasha’s neglected chair. Was Tim at the station, weaving a story as to why they hadn’t reported their colleague missing sooner? Was Sasha in Elias’ office, distracting him from the whole affair? 
He hopped up onto his old chair at his own desk. He hadn’t been here since the day he’d read that damned book in the first place. Jon’s office took the place of his regular workspace, either curled up on Jon’s lap or snoozing under the radiator. 
Being a cat, admittedly, had been a lot more comfortable than being Martin Blackwood. The temptation to remain like this had, he realised, not been entirely out of spite and anger of the others not being too fussed about Martin’s disappearance. 
It had come from Martin’s own disregard for Martin’s disappearance. Like this, he couldn’t annoy people. He didn’t have to worry about messing up conversations or making a fool of himself. He could stay away from people in that way, yet reap all the benefits of getting affection and having his company be greeted with a smile. 
But…he also couldn’t offer Jon a cup of tea and get to see that momentary lessening of his scowl, the only time his frown eased up in the office. The silly little bloom of pride Martin got at being able to coax that out of him with a nice cup of tea – a silent victory, proof he’d done something right.
He couldn’t sneak out five minutes early for lunch with Tim on a Thursday, because they both loved Thursday special at the German kebab shop three blocks away and wanted to avoid the lunch rush queues.
He couldn’t buy a lemon and poppyseed muffin on a Monday to drop off at Rosie’s desk before she got in, earning him first dibs when she baked her amazing Malteser brownies during charity bake sales at work. She pretended she didn’t know Martin brought her breakfast every Monday, when he knew she ran late for work because she had to drop her father off at the physio, but somehow, a hearty slice of brownie would be wrapped in a napkin in the fridge with his name on it all the same. 
He couldn’t go to the little tea room five minutes from his house every Saturday and Wednesday, order the same cup of Earl Grey and the same ham-and-cheese toastie, and beam as the owner called him his favourite and most reliable customer.  
Maybe…Maybe Martin Blackwood did get noticed after all. Little nods, little appreciations. Maybe…that was enough? 
The cold retreated from his fluffy legs, though it didn’t fully subside. It loosened its grip on his tiny heart, but it didn’t uncoil. 
He had to completely undo this, Champion – no, Martin decided. He had to find the answer. And the best place to start had to be the book itself. 
Martin jumped down from his chair, flattening himself on the floor to scoot under the bookcase where he had bashed the book out of sight weeks before. 
A few cobwebs…a pen he’d lost months ago…some paper clips…a scrunched up ball of paper that stole all of Martin’s attention for five minutes or more as he bapped it between his paws in delight…but no book. 
Wriggling his way back out from under the furniture, he looked left and right. Where was it? 
Martin headed out of the archival assistants’ office and made his way towards Jon’s. Had Jon returned to the office to retrieve the book? Martin hadn’t noticed him doing so, nor had the book shown up on Jon’s desk lately. Given that desk doubled as one of Martin’s many napping spots, he was sure he would have spotted it if it had. 
Unless…he’d picked it up recently. Tim had just told Jon that there was no sign of Martin at all at his flat. Tim had done something incredibly important in that conversation, Martin realised in horror. 
He’d given Jon a mystery to unravel. He’d sparked his curiosity and given him a challenge – could he find Martin before a professional? 
Oh no. 
Martin scampered into Jon’s office at full speed, miaowing in a vain attempt to yell Jon’s name. But the room was empty. 
Panting, his head whipped this way and that. Where was he? It was 4:12pm – not a time that Jon would take a smoke break he thought no one knew about, nor a time he’d go for a tea or try to heavily hint for Martin to make one. He was always at his desk. Where was—
“Mrrrrowww…”
Martin blinked, his ears twitching. That…hadn’t come from him. “Miaow?”
A horrified pause stretched out across the office. And then, that same, low rumble of a miaow, sorrowful and irritated. 
“Mrrrrrooooowwww…”
Plucking up his courage, Martin followed the sound, his fur already sticking up on end. He tip-toed around the leg of Jon’s desk, already suspecting what had happened, yet praying it hadn’t.
There, beside Jon’s chair, was The Ninth Life, open on the last few pages. And on top of the book was the saddest, skinniest, scabbiest-looking black cat that Martin had ever seen in his life. Flecks of grey mottled his fur, which was missing in great clumps all over. Most of his right ear was missing, leaving a ragged edge in its wake. His eyes were far too big for his head, a brilliant green that somehow didn’t complement his black fur. Worst of all, the cat was sitting with its hind legs in front of it, as though determined to sit like a person. 
The black cat looked at Martin. 
Martin looked at the black cat. 
It scowled at him. Somehow, despite everything, the cat managed to scowl at him. 
The cat knew who he was, Martin realised. He knew he was Martin. 
…Jon? Is that you? Martin wondered, pacing slowly over to the scabby cat. He just wanted to get close enough to sniff him, to confirm that this was Jon and—
Bap! 
A paw plonked down squarely on Martin’s head, followed by a warning hiss. 
Bap! Bap bap bap! 
Yes, Martin realised, as he lay down on his front and tried to cover the top of his head with his own paws to shield himself. 
The scruffy cat before him was definitely Jonathan Sims.
──── •✧• ────
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ukiyowi · 1 year ago
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Spirit guides personality and messages
Note: Hope you like it! Reblogs help a ton. I got hospitalised recently and it would be a huge help if anyone would be interested in buying paid readings or tipping! Every little penny helps! Thank you so much 🩷🩷🩷
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Pile 1
Personality
Cards: The Devil (rev.), Wheel of Fortune, Queen of Swords.
The strong female energy that's coming through, I heard warrior/generational warrior. Your spirit guide is cold and detached, independent I'm seeing they're very very strong and loyal. They're also extremely powerful, I'm getting that they'll only communicate with you if needed, letting you fight your own battles, however they're very protective. I feel if anyone ever does you wrong, it always comes back to them in the worst way possible. They're someone who's very wise and travelled, they don't like meddling too much. I also get strong maternal energy, so maybe this is a female ancestor. What's funny is when the first two cards fell out, I was thinking of a warrior with flowing hair in an Armor with a sword and then the queen of swords fell out. Again, giving me warrior, very strong and analytical. They're straightforward and blunt, may come off as grumpy or annoyed occasionally. Like their space, someone who's fair and trustworthy. I'm getting they may like things staying the same, they love routine.
Messages
Card: The Tower (rev.)
Stop trying to resist good change. If something is falling apart, it's meant to trying to hold on to it will bring nothing but delay, hurt and harm. Go with the flow, stay true to yourself. Rebuild what was fallen because now by then you'll have learnt from your mistakes.
Song: Lullaby for a cat – Epik High
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Pile 2
Personality
Cards: The Moon, Page of Wands, 7 of Pentacles
Okay first message I got is they're very communicative, and may try to talk to you or send messages through your dreams. They may be emotional and irrational at times, I'm also getting may be doting in a way. They seem optimistic and cheerful! I'm getting extremely fun and daring energy, there's not much that scares them probably because of how long they've been around, the kind to have seen everything. They may be a little fast-paced however, I'm getting if you're not progressing fast enough, they may try to step in, guide you in the right direction (or try) so that you can grow faster, they just want what's best for you. They're determined and persistent, very balanced energy, they value stability a lot especially mental and emotional stability and may help you manifest faster. They're selfless and fiercely protective especially against evil eye or the envy of others. You may have a lot of people who dislike you because of your success, your spirit guides protect you from that negative energy so it doesn't manifest into your life.
Messages
Card: Page of Cups (rev.)
Don't let others envy bring you down, nurture your inner child. If you keep working all day every day without giving yourself time to heal and replenish your energy, everything you've worked for will come falling down. It's not easy to forget or forgive the happenings of the past and you don't have to, but stop holding onto them with a vice grip.
Song: Fall - Sasha Sloan
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Pile 3
Personality
Cards: The Fools, The Lovers, 3 of Cups (rev.)
First thing that came through: past life lover, a past life lover is your spirit guide, or someone who carries that energy. They can be a little scattered at times but they're youthful and love adventure. They also seem pretty idealistic for better or for worse, I'm also getting they're very patient and understanding, a lot of compassion is coming through. They're agreeable and cordial, I see that they love new beginnings and cycles, they are also extremely abundant in showing their adoration, either through symbols, signs, animals all of that. They're critical by nature, sometimes too much but they try to tone it down I'm hearing and focus on the positives. Yeah, I'm not getting much to be honest, they would love to communicate with you, I hear they use animals a lot as symbolism and can be blunt when giving advice or guidance simply because they feel like sugar-coating is a waste of your time.
Messages
Card: Page of Pentacles
You've worked very hard so far, keep that up, there's new things coming into your life that will send you back in motion. Lay your foundations before building your empire, don't sway from the goals you set and you'll be good to go. Remember to stay humble and grounded, meditate.
Song: Older - Shallou
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All rights reserved, do Not plagiarise. Ukiyowi©®
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cult-of-the-eye · 10 months ago
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Jon angst!! He gets a therapist. It makes him worse.
tw: grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, scars
“So how have you been?”
The question is a completely anticipated one. Jon enjoys the structure of the sessions. The chairs are always facing each other and slightly uncomfortable, the sun is streaming through the window overlooking the car park and she always asks Jon how he’s been. And he always provides the same answer. 
“Alright.”
“Yeah?”
His hands smooth over the scar on his thumb. Soothing circles over what was far from a comforting experience. 
“It’s been…difficult.”
“In what way?”
Many. He wants to say. Abruptness and off-putting behaviours are out of place at a therapist’s office. She’s trying to help you, Martin would coax him through his thoughts like a feral cat out of an alley. 
“I guess, I just-”
She nodded. It wasn’t tea and soft looks but it would have to do.
“I was in the supermarket and I thought I heard Tim’s voice. I left things…badly and it was completely my fault, but I…I don’t know. I just really believed it was him.”
“That must’ve been tough.”
Such a cliche, therapist thing to say. They can’t empathise so they just provide sympathetic looks and synonyms for difficult. Martin’s not exactly here to stop him from hating her in his mind. 
“What did you do?”
Jon took a second to remember. The whole scene felt like thinking through fog. Pulling his memories out of his brain with a pitchfork. How he felt stayed with him. It wasn’t too different to how he currently felt. 
“I…froze. It was like…it was like all the bones in my body were…calling out for something.”
“Yeah?”
“But I knew I couldn’t reach it, so I froze. I think, my body made the decision for me.” 
“It sounds like your fight or flight response kicked in. It’s a way, as you’ve put it so well, of your body taking care of you.”
His body had weathered damage after after. It bore scars of worse and better times and Jon could barely stand to look at it some days. See the way they curved around him, more gentle than any hand had in a while. It disgusted him. 
“Maybe.”
“You’re allowed to disagree with me, Jon. This is an open space. You can share how you feel with no repercussions.”
“It isn’t quite an open space when you don’t know anything about me.”
Martin would be so disappointed in him. But Martin wasn’t here. 
“Did I say something to upset you?”
Jon groaned in frustration. His hand ground into his thumb, in dizzyingly strong patterns. 
“You didn’t say anything to frustrate me. I just- I need to have something and I can’t get it back.”
“That makes sense, Jon. I understand your reaction.”
He nodded, curtly. A small jolt of the head. Barely passing for an acknowledgement. 
“What is it that you can’t have?”
Sasha. Tim. Martin.
“Sleep. No chronic pain. A good cup of tea.”
“Would that make you feel better?”
-
It was that question that played and replayed through his head. He walked to the tube, tossing it around in his head like one of those tennis balls that Tim always had. The effectiveness of this therapy couldn’t be discerned so soon, as Georgie was quick to remind him. But this was the first time something could be accused of sticking. 
The tube was packed. That’s why he got off early. Sensory issues had been playing up all day, he had felt it from the moment he woke up. Walking was clearly the best option, here. And if he stopped for a couple of minutes to catch his breath, who would blame him? His cane could immediately clear up any suspicion around that. The house in front of him hadn’t had people in it for 6 months and 11 days exactly. No one would even notice how scheduled these rest breaks had become. 
She was right. A good night’s sleep and some paracetamol wouldn’t make him feel better. 
Getting them back, however, would. 
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yuanmir · 2 years ago
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[20:07]
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summary. roommate to lovers. (sfw) warning. none. note. i have a hyperfixation on eren and created this blog for the sole purpose of satiate my thirst of fluffy eren. word count. 1.3k
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EREN JAEGER — ROOMMATES 
Being roommates with Eren wasn’t as bad as some -jean- made it out to be. Although his anger issues were indeed a hassle to deal with, he just became silent to you. Choosing to calm himself before talking it out with you. Plus, he always did the house chores for two weeks as an apology. 
Being roommates with Eren was nice. He was an excellent cook, did his chores accordingly and respected your privacy. However, being roommates with Eren meant seeing his friends almost every day. Apparently, out of everyone in his friend group, yours and Eren’s flat was the biggest — thanks to you—. It wasn’t horrible, Eren did send out a text two hours before they came over or told you the day beforehand. And gradually, you started to open up to his friends.
Jean and Connie saw you as a kind soul that had to live with the crazy monster (“ you’re an angel for putting up with that maniac.” — jean). His childhood friends, Mikasa and Armin, were very welcoming. Although it was mostly them telling you all the embarrassing stuff Eren did as a child and said boy blushing and yelling at them to stop. 
A few of his friends were respectful and kind toward you. Sasha emptying your fridge, Annie and Historia helping you wash the dishes. Reiner and Bertholdt laugh at Eren and Jean as they have their usual fights.
It made your once lonely home full of energy. 
Being roommates with Eren was life changing. 
━━━━
Being roommates with Eren meant slowly falling in love with him. His intimidating emerald eyes, his silky dark brown hair which stops at his shoulders— which you have no idea how he’s able to keep them in perfect condition when he’s using a three in one—. He was sculpted by a god, you were sure. And oftentimes you’ve found yourself sculpting his face during your class only to get teased by Mrs. Pieck. 
However, you could never grasp his traits. Even if you stayed the night trying, it felt somehow incomplete. Sometimes it was the eyes, other times the nose and it wasn’t until the first rays of the sun that you found yourself on the thirteenth try. 
Coming back home, you’d be greeted by Eren giving you a cup of well deserved coffee. Ruffling your hair before going on his morning jog. You smiled at the plate of your favorite food waiting for you as well as a ‘ don’t force yourself’ note with a messily drawn smiling emoji. 
A laugh escaping your lips, shaking your head at the silliness of the message. The small act reminding you of why you fell in love with Eren.
━━━━
Being roommates with you makes Eren forget how to breathe. It started slow at first, thinking it was because he spent all his time with, he started to confuse his feelings. But the face you make when focused on an assignment, the adorable smile you’d have whenever you saw a video of a cat, the mesmerizing laugh you’d let out whenever Mikasa and Armin tell you another stupid thing Eren did as a child. 
Eren began to second doubt his feelings. Maybe he didn’t want to just be friends, maybe he wanted to be something more. These thoughts and wants were the reason he stayed up late, imagining it was you instead of the pillow. Your arms around his chest, your hair tickling his skin. Your breaths burning his skin. Eren groans. He was acting like a teenager with a crush. 
“ fuck..” he mutters in the darkness of his room. 
Maybe he does have a crush on you.
Being roommates with you turned Eren into a puppy. Whenever you would go out together for shopping or to the uni, he would trail behind you holding the shopping bags or your art supplies. He would glare at anyone who was looking at you weirdly. 
His friends of course noticed his behavior. 
Of course they wouldn’t be his friends if they didn’t help him. But they first teased him at every chance they got, even in front of you. Jean laughed his ass off when he found out (unfortunately for Eren, he was the first to find out). 
From accidentally forgetting the day they were supposed to hang out, leaving you and Eren alone to asking you about your type (and having to deal with a depressed Eren and a flustered Armin, because apparently you liked blond. — Eren almost dyed his hair blond had Annie and Connie not stopped him).
Thankfully— or not? — for Eren, you were aware of this little charade and was greatly amused. You returned his feeling of course, it has been for a long time. But you didn’t know when he started to return them.
━━━━
It was a saturday. 
Today was the day Eren would ask you out. Supposedly he was at his American football training, but he lied so could surprise you. He brought some flowers, a bouquet made of dahlia and a couple of hydrangea. Thanks to Historia and Mikasa — and a hell of changing into multiple outfits—, he was dressed up for the occasion. 
Inhaling a breath, he checked himself in the hallway mirror, muttering a small ‘you can do it’ to himself. Knocking on your studio’s door, he waited. Sounds of chair scraping and rushed footsteps halted when the door opened. 
And there you were, even with clay plastered on your face, you somehow still looked as beautiful as everyday. You were confused at the flowers in his hands and his dressed up self, a pang of hurt clawing at your heart. You pushed it deep inside, ignoring it to the fullest extent. 
Eren smiled at you, “hey.”
“hi.” 
You stood there, staring at each other's faces. A blush on both of your faces, Eren coughed. “Can I come inside..?” you snapped out of your trance, repeating a series of ‘yeah, yeah sure’. 
Closing the door behind him, horror struck you. Before he came in, you were on a ‘ try to make another Eren to somehow calm my delusional self’ marathon. The sculpture wasn’t finished, but it was detailed enough for anyone who knew the crazy maniac to recognize his face. You prayed your talent was trash enough for him not recognize his own self.
“ Is that me?” fuck.
“About that..” You hide the blush on your cheeks with a hand, you ramble on about how it was a coincidence and you certainly did not make his face on a daily basis. Eren was relieved, you at least were interested in his looks. 
It was risky, he wasn’t sure if you view him in a romantic way. But he took the risk.
“Babe.” 
You went quiet. A staring contest between you two, until Eren exploded into red. “Sorry. I- I don’t know why i said that—”
“Please go out with me.” 
“Huh”
“....” it was your turn to be all flustered. And there you were, two idiots who were too flustered to talk as they did just confessed to each other in a stupid way. If anyone saw that they would be cringing, honestly who would confess like that? Stupid you, stupid sculpture who didn’t want to look like the love of your life—
“The order is a bit wrong, but,” Eren stops your train of thoughts, extending the bouquet of flowers toward you with a smile on his face. Your hand twitches, you wanted to sculpt this beauty of a man.
“ Yes, I would like to go out with you.” 
A beat, then two and your heart was beating so loud you were sure he must’ve heard it. A smile broke out and you rushed over to hug him. Hiding your face who was heating up by the second. 
Eren was surprised but still hugged back nonetheless. 
“ So about the sculpture.” He was never letting you live it down. 
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—© yuanmir. 2023
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larsnicklas · 5 months ago
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Hello! I'm sort of new to hockey but not to team sports, and I wanted your opinion on panthers fans being annoyed at all the movements that are happening with FA. For example I've seen a lot of bother with Tarasenko leaving, but as helpful as he was to them during the playoffs what Detroit is giving him is way more than I would pay him if I was Zito too! And Zito has managed to keep a young core team with very talented players, and hopefully he will extend both Carter and Benny. Of course, it's sad seeing players go, and I don't necessarily agree with everything like 2M for Stenlund seemed doable, but Zito in particular seems to be very good at his job and he hasn't taken decisions that would make me untrustworthy of that. My other-sport team won everything possible and then instead of doing something like this they kept basically the whole winning team and it was wonderful but it has taken them over 10 years to recover from that. So I think you need to balance the fact that not every player was meant to stay and not every player can stay if you want to keep going ahead and not just like be happy with one Stanley Cup and start losing your stars to better offers.
Sorry about the super long message! Feel free to ignore, I just wanted to put it into words 💙
hiii! it is actually so funny bc you and the last anon talking about this sent in these asks like. minutes apart. kindred spirits LOL.
i think it's totally valid for cats fans to be upset and i get it like honestly stenny going was a shotgun to the chest... 23-24 cats penalty killers you will ALWAYS live in my heart.... but i think you have exactly the right of it! in the cats' case specifically, z.ito has done a very good job of securing his big boys to team-friendly contracts. it helps that there's an internal cap structure as well — nobody is going to sign for more than sasha at this particular juncture, and he is at a VERY manageable 10 mil aav. still, to lock up your top three forwards and your top defenseman, you have to be careful about the money you fling around for the depth guys. they could have technically afforded stenny, maybe, but probably not in a way that wouldn't push out multiple guys or force z.ito's hand on spencer k.night. and they certainly could not afford t.arasenko but it would be extremely funny to snag him back at the trade deadline for half salary retained etc.
i think the other thing too is that z.ito is not thinking just ahead to this coming year, but the one after that, where things can get a little hairy with 14 million still wrapped up in your goalies and ek, benny, swaggy all needing new contracts. but yeah, z.ito has earned a measure of trust from the fanbase, and he clearly has his sights on another run at the cup with this core. and just like you said, for continued success you absolutely do have to come to terms with the fact that not every guy can stay even if it stings to lose them!
and ofc no worries on the long message i love hearing people's thoughts on all the offseason movement!! :>
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ireallylovepuppies101 · 1 year ago
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So was Felix trying to find Bendy and Boris while they were still on the run in your cat dad AU? Did he find them? Did he ever run into the cupbros?
Yes, no, and no.
See Felix was out doing research on where Wilson could be when all the inky mystery stuff went down. Boris was staying with Bendy at the time in Sillyvision, so Felix would do weekly calls to Bendy's to check up on his kids. So when they didn't pick up, Felix got a worried feeling in the pit of his gut and called Sasha to see if they were just hanging out with her.
She had to break the news to him about Wilson, and Bendy and Boris having to rush out of town.
As upsetting as it was to learn that Wilson was gone, Felix would be more worried about his sons when he gets to Sillyvision and sees the wrecked state of Bendy's apartment. He'd collect all of Bendy's belongings and go searching for his boys. Nearly having a stroke when he finds out they're WANTED.
He doesn't find them until they're finally arrested. He shows up at the jails to make sure they're both okay and would be there for the trial.
He doesn't meet the Cupbros until AFTER they're (sorta) friends with his sons. He was told by his boys that they were hunted by assassins while on the run (he also didn't see Cuphead burst into the restaurant and start shooting like a madman since he was in the back), but he doesn't know they were Cuphead and Mugman at first.
Bendy and Boris were planning on telling him, honest, they were, but considering how things started to change between them and the cup bros, and also because their poor dad would be worried and stressed enough about them already, they find themselves struggling to tell the truth.
That and they're a LITTLE worried Felix might kill Cuphead and Mugman. Cuphead laughed at first when they warned him and Mugman to keep everything a secret, though his laughter stopped with how Bendy and Boris looked 100% serious.
Unfortunately for all of them, it's kinda impossible to keep something like that a secret from Felix for long. XD
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lovinkiri · 2 years ago
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Undercover Wild Cat, Chapter Twenty-One
Description: A plan is finally formed to save Bakugou, but Sasha can't just leave things as they are. She has to watch AFO fall with her own two eyes. When she does, she surprises herself with a few new feelings, along with a decision to the question she'd been asking herself - What happens after her mission?
Warnings: Violence, Injury, Blood Mention, Cussing (once), etc.
Art Credit: @.jabberwockyface
OC Credit: @jix-the-dragon
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Things were going downhill quickly for Sasha and she had no idea how to handle this. With her enemy within 20 feet of her, one friend being held captive, and the others terrified out of their wits, she didn’t know who to attend to first. This wasn’t in her training, the commission had not taught her how to deal with situations like this. Well, they had, actually. She was taught to run away, leave everyone behind and protect herself. Most agents didn’t have a problem with this, they were trained to have no attachments after all. It was because she cared so much that Sasha’s situation was different.
All Might and All For One’s attacks were getting stronger, so strong that they were creating powerful gusts of wind, so powerful that Sasha was nearly blown backward. She pushed her friends against the wall to protect them from the wind. “Stay against the wall!” She exclaimed, pressing herself against it. She wasn’t so concerned with the volume of her voice anymore, there was no way she’d be heard by All Might or AFO over all of the noise from their fight anyway. 
She stayed against Eijirou, reaching up to adjust her earpieces, attempting to lower the noise just enough so that it wouldn’t hurt her eardrums. Noticing, Eijirou reached up and cupped her ears. She looked up at him, surprised to see him so worried about her, even when he was obviously scared to death, scared of death even. If the situation weren’t so dangerous and out of control, she would have cracked a smile. 
“We have to be careful. Thankfully, this wall was able to hold up just enough to keep us safe and hidden, but the rest of the league was definitely blown away. We don’t know where they are.” She whispered as the noise began dying down. She was hoping that her classmates heard her, but she couldn’t afford to talk too much at the moment. She hoped that they were just too shocked to respond.  
Moving from against Eijirou and kneeling on the floor next to him, she tried to listen in on the conversation between the two men who had caused the commotion, peeking over the wall ever so slightly. “You’ve gotten weaker.” She heard AFO say. Then she heard All Might comment on AFO’s life support mask, speaking of how it’d be hard to miss him. 
“Are they just gonna argue?” She asked herself, scrunching up her eyebrows. Maybe this was just how heroes talked. In her line of work, she usually said a word or two before getting to the point. She didn’t like to fight with villains, there’s usually no point. Though she could admit that this was way more different than any fight she’d been in. She’d seen All Might fight before, so she knew he was no joke. So watching AFO block his attack with his bare hands and be well enough to be condescending towards him was worrying. “How was I ever going to avenge my parents? The commission held back on how strong he is.” 
Still, he killed her father and he took her mother away. She didn’t want to just walk away from this, as bad and wrong as it sounded. Maybe she could help get Bakugou out of here and then stick around, staying close to the shadows like now. She had to at least see him brought to justice, see the look on his face when he gets brought in. Maybe to even ask him a question or two if the opportunity presented itself. 
“I will take Young Bakugou back and I will make certain you’re locked up for the rest of your sad life! Right along with your despicable league of villains!” All Might shouted, launching an attack at AFO. Sasha could hear the hatred for the man in his voice. That was one more thing she and All Might had in common, their disgust for that evil man.
“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you. This will be hard on both of us.” AFO said calmly, extending an arm out casually. A huge gust of wind escaped his pal and All Might went flying so far, he went through a couple of buildings, those buildings collapsing from the force.
Sasha’s eyes went wide and she was beginning to feel that fear her classmates were feeling. She hadn’t felt this for her life in years. Seriously, how was she expected to go up against this monster? Why hadn’t the commission told her how dangerous he was? Had she done what she wanted and run out when she first learned of who he was, she’d be dead right now, no doubt about it.
Her unease only grew when he began naming what sounded like abilities. Then she remembered everything she did know about him, like the fact that he stole quirks. She couldn't imagine how many people he’d taken quirks from, and how many people were still alive to tell the tale. She briefly wondered if he’d ever used her mother or father’s quirk, but she shook her head to dismiss the thought. She didn’t even want to consider that possible, she wouldn’t. 
Her fear disappeared the moment she heard Bakugou’s voice calling out for All Might. She’d never heard him sound so worried, but she understood. From what she knew, All Might was the hero Bakugou looked up to the most. Watching him get knocked back miles away through cement buildings wasn’t easy for her, so she could see how Bakugou felt.
“Do not fret, it’ll take more than that to kill him.” AFO waved off Bakugou’s worry and shook his head, facing him and Shigaraki. “Get off the battlefield, Tomura. And take that child with you.” He waved his hand and Sasha watched his fingers turn into black and red stick-like tendrils that grabbed Kurogiri. “Kurogiri. Warp them away.” He ordered, lifting him.
“Be careful!” Magne exclaimed, running over to them. “One of the heroes messed with him and now he’s unconscious. I’m not sure what’s going on but if you can teleport, why don’t you get us out of here?” She asked, obviously worked up. 
“My warp power is still new, Magne. There is much I still need to learn about it.” He explained, still holding up Kurogiri. “Its distance is limited, and while he can teleport to specific coordinates, I only transport people to and from my own location, or if I focus, to and from someone I’m very familiar with. That is all.” 
Sasha found herself surprised. Big villains like him didn’t usually find it worth their time to explain themselves so calmly and thoroughly, especially in a situation like this one. She’d seen plenty of people get taken out by their own bosses just for second-guessing them. This told her a lot about AFO though.
He was a calm man who didn’t seem to have a temper. This meant he didn’t cause chaos just for the hell of it, nor did he kill just because he wanted to. He had his own agenda and anyone he hurt along the way was just a casualty, collateral in a bigger scheme. She had no idea what his agenda was, but with a man like him, it wouldn’t be good, that much was obvious.
Another thing she was able to pick up on was how he seemed to treat the other members with respect. From her experience, leaders who treated their followers with equal respect always had the most loyal followers. She figured the league not only shared his ideals in whatever goal he was working towards, but they also found a home in his league. Making a villain league feel like home was dangerous, as they’d fight more to keep it together and would usually die with their loyalty still intact. This was especially true in cases where someone didn’t have a home before joining a league, like her if she hadn’t met Naomasa.
“He’s taking advantage of their rough childhood in order to accomplish his goals.” She thought, narrowing her eyes. It was because of her situation with her parents that she hated people like that, people who preyed on the less fortunate. “He knows exactly what he’s doing too. He’s too intelligent not to know.”
The members of the league looked at each other. With Kurogiri out like a light and AFO’s warping rendered useless to them, it seemed they had no idea what to do. It seemed they were stuck, and Sasha was relieved. Then AFO called out, “Forcible quirk activation.” 
One of Kurogiri’s warp portals opened, despite him being unconscious. She gaped in shock at what she had seen. It occurred to her that the powers he was listing earlier were simply what he had used on All Might. He also had a warping ability and could now forcibly activate quirks. Just how many abilities was he currently holding? The fact that they didn’t know what they could even be was worrisome. What trick would he pull from his hat now?”
AFO told Shigaraki to leave once more and he responded with worry for his superior. It seemed as though Shigaraki and AFO were closer than she or the commission initially thought. Or was this just another thing they’d left out? Now that she saw that secrets were still being held, she couldn’t help but distrust the commission more. Certain things weren’t adding up, pieces weren’t fitting together. But she’d have to think more about that later. At this point in time, there were more pressing matters.
Sasha could hear and see movement in the distance, coming right for them. She knew exactly who it was and she sighed in relief at his safe return to the fight. She knew this battle wouldn’t be easy for him, but he was their best shot at victory. “All Might. Everyone is counting on you. They’re scared too, so don’t die. I’ll do what I can.” She silently promised him.
The hero’s fist met AFO’s palm again. There was another strong gust of wind from the impact, but this one wasn’t strong enough to blow anyone away. Despite that, All Might didn’t seem hurt at all, aside from a few tears and bruises. After the hit sustained, Sasha was surprised to see him moving as if he hadn’t been hit. 
She gave a soft hum and shook her head. This was the number one hero, after all. He’d been through a lot in his time, she couldn’t imagine this was the first time he’d gone flying through buildings. Hell, it seemed like every hero had that happen to them at least three times in their lives.
It seemed as though the villains were getting ready to leave as AFO had told them to. They were all surrounding Bakugou, watching him like prey. And he grinned, getting into a fighting stance. All Might yelled at him, telling him not to fight, but Sasha wished she could say she disagreed, but she couldn’t. Bakugou was being circled by strong villains. If he made the wrong move or engaged in combat, he could end up getting killed. At the very least, he’d be taken alive if he simply cooperated.
“We’ve got you, Bakugou…” She mused under her breath, her classmates looking at her. None of them had spoken for a while now, so she was the first to speak up. She sighed through her nose. “That hard-headed pomeranian.” The words left her mind before she realized it, and she noted the new nickname. She’d be sure to tease him with it later when they all escaped from this situation safely, together. She wasn’t going to be leaving without all of them, after all, or at least ensuring their safety.
Glancing at the others, she could see how they were still terrified. It looked like they wanted to run, but they also looked too scared to breathe. Izuku’s expression was different though. He looked like he was deep in thought, like he was trying to figure out how to get out of here and save Bakugou, who was holding his own pretty well against six villains, though everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they overtook him.
“Izuku.” She whispered, and the boy jumped and looked at her. She placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him and try to calm him down. “Breathe and talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
He didn’t want to admit it, worried that it’d put more pressure on her, but he was glad to be here with Sasha, someone with so much more experience in dangerous situations. She made this whole plan go smoothly so far, and he could see she was still willing to do more. He found comfort in how calm she was too. He knew she was probably just as scared as they were, they were all the same age, after all. But she still spoke without a stutter and maintained steady eye contact. If she was trying to seem confident, her expression didn’t betray her, remaining earnest and still. He imagined this was what years of training one’s emotions looked like.
“... Kacchan and All Might are pretty much stuck,” Izuku whispered back to her, glancing through a hole in the cement wall. “Kacchan can’t get away and All Might can’t save him. Not only that but we can’t join the fight, we don’t have our licenses.”
Sasha hated the license issue. She couldn’t understand why unlicensed people couldn’t use quirks against villains, especially in situations like this. She understood there would be cons to allowing people to fight in self-defense, but the pros outweigh the cons in her opinion. Still, she couldn’t talk much, at least she had a license. Izuku was trying to think of a way without getting everyone in more trouble than they would be. 
Then it happened, she had an idea. It wasn’t fully fleshed out and they would only have one shot at it, but it was the best they had to go off of. “But, Izuku,” She started, glancing out at the fight. “We don’t have to fight to use our quirks. That’s not what we came here for anyway. We came to retrieve Bakugou, nothing against the law about that, right?” She nudged him a bit, nodding as a look of realization flashed across his face.
He nodded. “You’re right. But he would have to find an opening. Hopefully, Kacchan could give that to us. After we save him, All Might could finally use the full extent of his power. You’re a genius, Sasha.” He praised her.
She shook her head again. “Not really. I have no solid plan yet, I was hoping you could help with that part.” She said, placing her other hand on his free shoulder. “Take deep breaths, go through every possible direction we can go in this from.”
His face scrunched up, and Sasha didn’t say a word. She didn’t want to risk disturbing his train of thought. All she could do was take deep breaths that urged him to breathe with her while he was thinking. Even in the next passing seconds, she knew he had gone through every single thing he could think of. Then his eyes went wide, and she relaxed. He had thought of something.
He looked over her shoulder and softly called out to Iida, who snapped out of his trance and looked at him. She knew he must have been distracted because he hadn’t even heard their conversation. “I won’t let you fight, Midoriya.”
“No, there’s another way.” Izuku reassured him, moving closer as Sasha dropped her hands from his shoulders. “Sasha and I came up with a way to save Kacchan and escape with him, without resorting to combat.”
She looked at the others with a nod. “Exactly. We can still get him back guys, but we only have one shot at this, so we have to make it count. That means everyone has to listen to whatever Izuku says right now.” She said seriously.
Izuku looked down at his clenched fists. “The thing is… The success of this plan all depends on Kacchan. If I carry on the plan myself, it won’t work.” He looked at the group again, eyes flickering between Sasha and Eijirou. “You guys will have to help carry out the plan.” 
She and Eijirou exchanged a look, kind of surprised, but she realized this probably had something to do with Bakugou’s relationship with them. The two nodded at each other, thinking the same thing, before looking back at Izuku.
Izuku then went into detail, explaining his plan step by step. He explained everyone’s roles, where everyone should be, and when everything should happen. He had truly gone through every single possibility, just as she said. She knew Izuku was intelligent, but she was still impressed.
“Are you out of your mind?” Iida was obviously afraid, and Sasha was too. She was sure everyone was scared, even Bakugou and All Might. But that didn’t stop those two, so it wasn’t going to stop them either.
“Kacchan has probably already realized the positions they are both in too.” Izuku pushed, and Shoto agreed with him. Izuku continued, “He’s staying defensive, keeping his distance from the villains. That’s good for us.”
Sasha hummed in agreement. “We’ll have to move when there’s space between him and the villains. That way, none of us get hurt. I’ve already seen plenty of opportunities where Bakugou was just far enough, so I know he can do it. We just have to help him before they close in.” 
Everyone began looking to Iida. Everyone had an extremely important role to play and Iida’s was no different. The plan simply wouldn’t work with him. He brought his hand to his chin. “It’s a gamble, but there really is no risk to us in the end. And all things considered, our success could change the tide of All Might’s fight. So… I’m in.” He decided, nodding his head.
Everyone got into position, Sasha in Eijirou’s arms. Iida and Izuku were wrapping their arms around them, as if giving them a bear hug. Their grip was tight, but that was to be expected. Izuku pressed his foot against the wall of a damaged building behind them. He was going to use his quirk to propel them forward, combined with Iida’s.
Eijirou crossed his arms over her. “Just relax, I got you.” He told her, hardening his arms. She could feel his heart against her back, it was pounding against his chest. But again, he was worried for her. She gave a smile and nod, then they were shot forward. The plan was to use his hardening to break through the wall. She closed her eyes, ducking her head away a little, but she wasn’t hurt when they broke through. They sure did grasp everyone’s attention though.
The next phase was Todoroki’s part. It was his job to make a huge slab of ice as high as he could. This was so that they could get the jump on the villains, who hadn’t noticed them yet. They were able to get across the battlefield too high for any of them to reach. AFO probably could have gotten them, but just like he’d been holding All Might back from Bakugou, All Might could do the same. She couldn’t imagine what must have started running through his head when he saw them, but he seemed to get a grasp of the situation pretty quickly.
The next part was up to Sasha and Eijirou. Because they’d become such good friends since the beginning of the school year, it was a guarantee that he’d listen when they called for him with no hesitation.
Reaching their hands out, they yelled for him simultaneously. “Come one!” Eijirou yelled out to him. Sasha looked at him, a small grin on her face. “Let’s go, Explosion Boy!”
It was a close call, Shigaraki ran for Bakugou as he charged up his next explosion, but he was too late. Bakugou launched himself into the air with explosive power she didn’t even know he had. He glided through the hair towards them smoothly, then clasped both his hands into Sasha’s and Eijirou.
“You idiots!” He shouted at them with a wide grin, and Sasha’s own smile widened. He was here again, calling them idiots, clutching on to them. They had done it, they finally had him. She began to tear up as she remembered how she had just barely missed him when he was captured. Now, the villains were on the other side of that situation.
“Yeah, yeah! We’re gonna need an explosion soon, Explodo, a good one!”
“Don't tell me what to do, house pet!”
Izuku looked at them. “Guys, c’mon, we shouldn’t be arguing!”
Sasha laughed and shook her head. Despite the back and forth, she knew Bakugou would listen. “Bakugou, I gotta let go of your hand, but Eij has the other!” She warned him. He simply grunted and loosened his grip on hers. She let go, sighed. “I should make sure Todoroki and Momo get out safely. We’ll meet up with you guys.” She said, and she waited until they were low enough for her to use her quirk to land safely, then she loosened Eijirou’s grip on herself, slipping from his arms. Just then, Bakugou used an explosion to lift them again.
She waved as she fell through the sky, giving Bakugou a thumbs up. He looked down at her and flashed a thumbs up too before looking forward. As she descended, she reached the top of a building, she tucked and rolled as she landed. It hurt, but thankfully she was only left with bruises. Using her claws, she began making her way down the building. When her feet hit the ground, she began running to meet with them on their route. 
They turned at the sound of their footsteps, worried that they’d been followed by a hero, but let out a deep breath when they saw Sasha. She jogged over and nodded. “I think everything’s okay.” She told them, referring to their physical recapture of Bakugou. “We got him.”
The three of them exchanged smiles and continued on their way, Sasha trailing behind. She kept glancing behind her. It seemed as if the heroes had everything under control, but she still couldn’t believe it. The man who killed her father was back there fighting All Might. And though they had saved Bakugou, she was still walking away. What was all of her years in the commission for if she wasn’t even there when he was apprehended. 
With silent footsteps, she stopped following the two when they reached a crowded area, turning on her heel and running back as soon as she saw them enter the crowd. They were safe and she was sure of that.
She knew the others would be upset with her, but this was personal. She just wanted to see him get taken in, speak with him if possible. Even if she ran into a villain, she had her license. Not only that, but she was both trained and certified to kill if she deemed necessary, not that she wanted to. She would be careful, keep her distance, and stay out of All Might’s way, but she wasn’t running away from this. 
Sasha scaled another building as quickly as she could when she was close enough to understand what was happening, but far enough so that she wouldn’t get hurt. Even if an attack was sent her away, she’d have more than enough time to evade. She perched herself on the edge of the roof. It reminded her of how she met Izuku and Ochako, how she had watched him save her from there. She remembered the loud explosions she heard in the background and how she cursed whoever was responsible for such loud noises. Now she was friends with that person and had just gone through a rescue mission for him.
“Oh, how everything comes full circle.” She said softly before tucking away the fond memory. Now she had something else to focus on other than a rescue mission. She was sure the others were safe by now, probably watching the fight get broadcasted by the train station if things went according to plan. A loud noise brought her attention back to All Might and AFO.
All Might had been hit with a pretty strong attack and was flying towards a news helicopter, which probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Sasha could admire the drive though, the need to fill everyone in on what was going on, even if that meant risking their lives. Thankfully, their lives would be spared today. Before All Might could collide with the helicopter, he was scooped up by Gran Torino. 
Sasha couldn’t believe the destruction that had come about from the one attack though. Half of Camino Ward was wiped out by it, by that one single attack from one single person. It was terrifying and she was reminded of how she had been working her way up to fighting him. Now she realized all of that work would have been for nothing if she had run into him before today. He would have killed her before she could even declare who she was and how she knew him. 
Sasha saw something out of the corner of her eye, she almost missed it and it was a pure accident that she stumbled across it in the first place, but she the heroes would notice. There was a girl in the rubble. The thought crossed Sasha’s mind that there were probably plenty of survivors, and that All Might would protect them to the end if he had to. She was proven right when All Might shielded the woman from an attack rather than countering it with his own, knowing it would probably be fatal for her. Sasha stood straight, clenching her fists as All Might’s real form was revealed. She was shocked, but she couldn’t imagine how All Might must have felt, having something so personal broadcasted on TV.
“That bastard… He’s using the lives of innocents against him.” She growled out, clenching her fists. “And he’s using All Might’s real form to shame him and get into his head. Can’t imagine what crap he must be spewing.”
She made her way down the building with ease and began sprinting towards the battlefield. She had to save those people so that All Might could do his best. If he was going to beat this man down for her, she figured she owed him that much. Her quirk made getting there easy, and she began picking up more voices as she got closer. “Endeavor, Tiger, Kamui Woods… Everyone is there helping. I have to do more.”
She finally made it to the battlefield, but she didn't stop. She ran straight for the woman behind All Might. He looked at her in shock. “Young Sasha! What are you doing here?”
“I may not be a hero, but I’m still a licensed professional, All Might! I’m here to assist, like Kamui said!” She lifted one woman onto her back, telling her to hold on tightly. Then she looked back at the hero. “This man took everything from me too! I know you can do it, All Might, so kick his ass! You’re our hero, All Might!” She exclaimed before running off. 
As she ran, she came across a young man who couldn’t walk. With a soft groan, she lifted him into her arms and ran as quickly as possible. Was this what being a hero was like? It wasn’t nearly as lonely as her old life. Instead of fighting in the shadows, she fought with the people she was fighting for. She held civilians in her arms and reassured them that they would be safe. 
The heroes brough the survivors to a safer area where the fight was still visible. She sat down with the two people she helped with a huff. “Here we go. You guys should be safe now.”
The woman looked at her and then pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Young Hero!” She exclaimed, her tears falling onto Sasha’s shoulders. “Who.. Who are you?”
Sasha remembered her internship with Hawks, how foreign this feeling felt back then. The aftermath of saving someone was beautiful. To feel their hug and their hearts still beating, knowing it was because you made it. She felt grateful that she could do that for these people.
“... Namir. My name is Namir.” She answered, giving her hero name. It felt right to say at this moment. All of those times she questioned what she would do after her mission, and she figured she finally had the answer. 
Turning to look at the fight again, she called out, “You’ve got this, All Might! Show him just how well good trumps evil!” 
The rest of the survivors who could speak followed her example, cheering him on. She watched as All Might’s arm threw big, but AFO’s was bigger. When their fists met though, All Might was able to hold his own. She noticed his other arm building up enough power for another hit. She cheered louder for him, yelling at the top of her lungs. She’d never cheered so hard for someone before.
Then it happened. All Might swung and transferred all of his power from the arm touching AFO’s to his other arm and punched him. Then he extended his arm and she watched as it began to glow with power. This was it, the last one. This was all he had left, she could tell. She watched as his hit connected and suddenly, there was smoke everywhere. 
Everyone was silent, watching in anticipation. There was so much to worry about and no one could do anything but hold their breaths and pay silently. Was AFO finally down? Was All Might okay? 
When the dust cleared, AFO was unconscious and almost embedded into the ground. Almost knelt over him, obviously spent from the fight. Then he slowly lifted his hand and formed a fist. Sasha felt tears spill down her cheeks, tears she didn’t know she was holding back. Everyone around her cheered and grinned. She quickly scrambled to her feet, running towards All Might. 
When she reached him, she fell to her knees beside him, helping him to stand. “You did it! Oh my god, All Might, you did it!” She cheered, looking up at him. 
He chuckled weakly at her enthusiasm and looked at her. “You said he ruined your life, yes…? It’s over now. He can’t hurt you or anyone else.” All Might reassured her, and she sobbed. He had remembered her words, even with blood dripping down his mouth.
As she got a better look at AFO, she found herself surprised that she didn’t kill him right then and there. She couldn’t even process a feeling close enough to hatred. Because before hatred could consume her, relief crashed down on her. Bakugou was safe, AFO was defeated, All Might was still alive and loved, and so was she. Even when All Might gave his message to the world, she was still crying. Rather than thinking of revenge, she thought of hope, and she cried harder.
For the first time, the light in her life overpowered the darkness.
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elainevc · 3 years ago
Text
please stay pt. 2
fem!reader x levi
⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️: Mentions of blood, vomit, low appetite, weight loss, illness, needles, angst
Please do not read if these themes are triggers. Your mental health is more important than stories on the internet. Please take care of yourself <3
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Weeks had passed since Levi had confessed. Your health wasn't getting better, but it wasn't getting worse. So, he took that as a blessing.
Hange did experiments and tests every day. They discovered you had alba rheumatismus rulmonum; your lungs were slowly collapsing and you weren't healing because your body was too busy trying to get the nutritions you lacked.
She explained that it was common in women who lived inside wall Rose. Only thirty years ago was a cure developed. The disease practically disappeared after that.
But now that you were diagnosed, the cure was difficult to get a hold of. Erwin had to pull some very special strings to get the syringe in their hands. It was nerve-wracking to say the least, but you wanted to get better. The survey corps needed as many soldiers as they could get and you weren't about to roll over and be killed by a little coughing.
The finally came when the procedure would take place. The 104th cadets visited you in the morning to wish you good luck. Sasha made sure to show up with a bowl of soup from breakfast.
Before they left, Levi entered the room and shooed them out.
He walked over to your bedside and carefully grabbed your hand. His cold fingers traced over your skin.
"How are you feeling," he asked like he was almost afraid of the answer.
"Eh, could be worse. At least I'm not titan food." He smiled but it wasn't genuine. The air was tense as he got lost in his rhoughts.
His eyes had a far-away look in them as he stared at your intertwined hands. When you squeezed he met your gaze. You lifted your hand to cup his cheek and like a cat he leaned into your touch. You gently led him down to your face.
"Don't be so dramatic. It's not like I'm gonna die," you joke but he doesn't seem entertained.
He was only focused on your lips as he met your mouth to his. It was soft and tender and you could feel how much emotion he was trying to convey. Levi always struggled to express his feelings and you were aware of this.
Just as you were about to start moving, he pulled away.
"Promise me you'll stay," he nearly pleaded with you. He was desperate. You smiled and nodded. Like hell you were going to leave him all by himself.
It was strange watching the seemingly emotionless captain breakdown in front of you. You knew better than anyone that he did in fact care about his comrades and he just struggled to express that.
"Hey," you spoke softly with your fingers pulling his chin up to face you, "I'm not gonna leave you."
He took in a long breath to settle his nerves and nodded.
Erwin and Hange entered quietly, a small box tucked under the section commander's arm. She began preparing the injection while Erwin walked over to you.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm ready to get this over with so I can get back out in the field."
Erwin hummed in response. His brows were furrowed in thought. Despite your long-standing friendship with him, the commander still found a way to make you nervous. Or maybe it was your body preparing for the next few days of hell. Either way, his gaze was frightening and you found yourself gripping Levi's hand a little.
Hange walked over with gloves on and the needle ready for you.
You forced yourself to put on a brave face and roll up your sleeve. They wiped your skin down and meet your eyes. The needle was inches from your skin but felt like it was already in.
They slowly pierced the skin and flushed the syringe dry of... whatever was inside.
It didn't feel any different. She pulled away and returned to the box to clean the supplies. Erwin placed a patch of thin gauze over the injection.
Levi helped you stand and led you to your room. You all agreed it would be best to go through the side effects in a comfortable environment. The cadets had helped move some buckets and what-not into the room earlier that morning.
You sat on your bed carefully and Levi stayed standing in front of you. He watched you sway a little as you felt fatigue grab a hold of you.
He knelt down so he was eye level with you. His steel blue irises stared intently at you. Neither of you spoke for a long moment before he decided to put his hand on the side of your face.
His fingers tickled your ear and his palm was warm against your cheek. You moved forward slightly to meet him.
Your lips connected with his in a soft, tender kiss. It was passionate as he tried to convey everything he was feeling in one single moment. He tasted like black tea and you found yourself loving that.
The two of you separated but he leaned in again to kiss your forehead sweetly.
You felt like you could melt right then and there.
"Geg some sleep brat. You don't need to feel any worse tomorrow." You grinned up at him. He didn't mean for it to be funny but he enjoyed your smile nonetheless.
You moved to get comfortable and fell asleep quickly under the covers. Levi sat in an armchair tucked in the corner. He never got much sleep anyway so staying up to make sure you would be okay wasn't a problem to him.
The night passed uneasily. The medication was starting to sink in and your body was becoming more uncomfortable every hour. You tossed and turned relentlessly but never once woke from your sleep.
Levi stood and poked your cheek. You stirred a little but didn't wake. He poked you again until you opened your eyes and looked at him.
"Come on, you need to eat something."
The covers were too warm to leave their safe embrace so you simply curled into them more. Levi rolled his eyes at you and left the room to prepare your breakfast.
He knew you appreciated a cup of tea when you didn't feel good.
The kitchen was oddly silent and Levi wondered where the cadets had gone. Sasha must have already had her breakfast if she wasn't in the kitchen at the moment.
Levi carried the tray of food back to your room, but when he entered your bed was empty.
The sound of gagging came from the bathroom. He set the tray down and hurried to your side. You were hunched over a bucket hurling your innards out. Yeah this was Levi, and he was obviously grossed out by the vomit, but a part of him still wanted to kneel by your side and comfort you.
He decided on a happy medium of pulling your hair back (or rolling up your sleeves if you don't have hair or wear a cap) and resting a hand on your back.
You finished shortly after and cleaned your mouth. It was safe to say you weren't hungry any more.
You returned to the bed as a sudden wave of heat hit your body. Sweat formed on your skin and threatened to drip down your face.
"Levi.. can I get a cold cloth," you ask quietly.
He nods and comes back to your side with a brown towel. He adjusts it on your forehead and instantly feel better. You cough a little to clear your throat, but this sends you into a coughing fit.
You sit up and continue into your arm. The familar taste of iron fills your mouth and soon the inside of your sleeve is coated with blood.
Fuck, this was going to be a shitty week.
The next few days were filled with your constant changing temperature and occasional vomitting. Hange assured Levi that this was the normal process and that you would get better soon. He didn't believe it entirely, or maybe that was just his cynical side.
Your thinning frame and pale skin reminded him too much of his mom. You barely ate anything and couldn't get out of bed most of the time. The bucket seemed to always be in use.
Levi hated watching you like this. He hated seeing you fall apart in front of him and that there was nothing he could do about it.
He knew that the best thing to do was to trust Hange and Erwin buf that was harder than he thought. His trust dwindled the worse you got and the two of them knew he was nervous. They saw the way he looked at your sleeping form, the way he hurried to fulfill any sudden need of yours.
It was all too unsure for him to be relaxed.
The day you stood from your bed on your own was the day he felt his heart beat a little faster.
The day you were able to walk without assistance made him want to run to you and pick up. He wanted to twirl you around in one swift motion and hold your body close to his.
The day you ate 3 whole meals was the day Levi made a promise to himself.
He promised himself to never let you go and to keep you safe until the moment he dies. He promised to protect you and never see you hurt ever again.
He wanted you to stay with him and be his forever.
That was all he wanted after that.
91 notes · View notes
voiceless-terror · 4 years ago
Note
12 + jonmartin?
things you said when you thought i was asleep + jonmartin! <3
“I love you.”
Jon doesn’t get an answer. Doesn’t expect to, with Martin sleeping so soundly beside him.
They’re sharing a bed. It doesn’t mean anything. Martin held his hand the entire ride up, followed him from room to room. At the end of the day, Martin stood in the doorway of the bedroom, fidgeting.
“You can have the bed,” Jon says. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “I’m perfectly fine on the couch, I don’t really sleep much these days-”
“Please.” The answer is quiet but resolute. He knows what Martin’s asking.
So here he is, on their tiny little bed in their tiny little cottage, listening to Martin make soft, sleepy noises and trying to commit them to memory, in case he doesn’t get to hear them again.
“I know you don’t. Well, not anymore. I heard you. In the Lonely.” It’s hard not to lean into Martin’s side, to check and make sure all of this is real. That it’s Martin here beside him, warm and solid. But he needs his rest, and Jon doesn’t want to disturb him.
“But I’d like to stay here awhile, with you.” Jon feels his hand twitch with longing and he buries it under the pillow as if to smother it. “As long as you’ll have me. We can...we can make it work. Keep busy. Maybe you can fix those god-awful drapes. And I can cook you dinner. I don’t really know what you like. I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”
His voice catches as he thinks back to all of their missed opportunities. They’ve never had a ‘normal,’ and he doesn’t think they ever will. Not with the way things are. “I just want things to be good for you, Martin. You deserve nice things and I’m afraid...I’m afraid I can’t give them to you. This safehouse is a mess, the floor creaks, the bathroom’s barely usable, the heating...leaves much to be desired.” He lets out a bitter laugh and allows his hand to slowly reach towards Martin’s hair, brushing a silver curl from his forehead. “But having you here...that’s enough. For me. For as long as you can stand it.”
“And I’m...I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. Everything, really. For Sasha and Tim. For treating Martin like he did, for suspecting him, for dying and leaving him alone. A sob threatens to escape his throat and he rolls over, curling into a ball as far from Martin as he can manage. 
He doesn’t sleep much anymore; his mind is too awake, his bad hand throbs and his skin itches. He tries to stay as still as possible and control his restless legs, but after a few minutes he feels Martin turn over and suddenly there’s an arm around his waist. He tenses, as much as he wants to lean into the touch. Martin’s asleep, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he doesn’t need Jon all over him like a touch-starved cat-
“I still do.”
The words make him jump, though they’re whispered quietly in his ear. The arm tightens around his waist, pulling him back to Martin’s chest. His breath tickles Jon’s neck. “I-I’m sorry?”
“I still love you. Never stopped.”
His heart hammers in his chest as he rolls over and stares up into Martin’s sleepy blue eyes, closer than he’s ever seen them. He’s awake. He’s holding him. And he still loves him.
Martin smiles bashfully, a hand coming up to gently cup Jon’s cheek. “I-Is that alright?” Jon’s hand reaches up to meet it- the skin is rough, calloused; he’s still surprised by that. There’s so much about Martin that he doesn’t know. Jon wants to tell him how little he has to give, how unsure he is of the future. But he only manages a small ‘yes’ before burrowing into Martin’s worn sleep shirt, inhaling the clean scent of it. It’s nothing special, just an old shirt, really. He wants to pick it up out of a basket tomorrow, put it in the wash and hang it out dry.  He wants to see Martin in it again. Jon clings to him like a lifeline, listening to the steady beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest, the rumble of his voice when he finally speaks. 
“And we’ll get new drapes, promise.”
Jon smiles against his shirt. He hopes Martin feels it.
290 notes · View notes
greensaplinggrace · 3 years ago
Text
What Is There To Celebrate About the Darkling? (Part 4)
1 2 3 4
He’s calculating but impulsive. Gentle yet firm. Stubborn and adaptive. Just a real mess of contradictions that makes him all the more interesting.
He loves nature. He loves the forest.
Fond of luxuries and nice things. After growing up as he did, I think he deserves them.
Very socially awkward. Introvert just trying his best. Anything that isn’t manipulation and therefore something he’s planned in his head is just a social train wreck waiting to happen.
The way he pushes up Alina’s sleeve when they first meet. This man had zero compunctions about acting completely unprofessionally in front of his soldiers and I think that’s very sexy of him.
He’s constantly tired and exasperated with the people around him.
The way he says “quiet” with the softest voice imaginable and a room full of laughter instantly goes silent.
He had no interest in Elizaveta even though she was utterly obsessed with him and I think that’s hilarious.
Elizaveta: I have a plan to resurrect the Darkling Everybody Else: Oh the Darkling is so evil for trying to come back! The Darkling, who just wants a nap and is sick of this mortal bullshit: Why am I even here? This is such a pain in the ass. I should have killed Elizaveta when I had the chance.
How he asks if Alina “will have” his name like a man proposing.
Has his bedroom attached to the war room.
Constantly checking up on Alina just to know how she’s doing. Never pushing her beyond her limits as she’s training.
Very creative with his shadows and the extent of their abilities. So many of the ways he uses his powers are genius.
His ending in RoW is a tragedy and an injustice. He deserves better.
This old man pouting at Alina in episode seven as he says “please, I just want to talk to you 🥺”
There is a black kefta made for Alina after like two days in the Little Palace. He really was already planning their entire immortal futures together as Mr. and Mrs. Starkov wasn’t he?
His bed is covered in maps and notes when he’s plotting how to find Alina. Also before that, the way he’s poring over the notes at his desk and giving orders is 👌🥵
Him acting like a real General at all is simply amazing.
The fact that he trusts Luda with his life. That they have a whole intimidation routine set up around him purposefully getting himself fatally injured knowing she’ll heal him.
He looks like a vampire in the show and a fae in the books.
His favorite ABBA song is probably “Lay All Your Love On Me.”
Looks composed but that’s only a façade. Is actually an unhinged feral terror of pain and misery.
That scene where he tells the king she will remain in the Little Palace to train undisturbed and he puts his foot down. ON THE RED CARPET. the king’s carpet. and uses a commanding voice that’s just on the edge of an order…I’m surprised he didn’t get flogged for that. IMO nothing conveys the fine line he walks with those in power while wielding his own like this scene. Literally he should just be celebrated for this alone.
“‘Why won’t you leave me alone?’ I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk. Long minutes passed. I didn’t think he would answer. I even had time to hope he might have gone, until I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Then I’d be alone, too,” he said, and he stayed the whole night through, till the lamps burned down to nothing.
Trapped a bunch of Saints in the Shadow Fold like a true amoral disaster villain. What an icon.
His barely concealed amusement and half hidden smile when Alina comes to put his kefta on. The way he finds Alina utterly hilarious and tries so hard to act like he doesn’t.
That small amused smile when Alina jokes about finding Volcra hilarious. Please he’s so adorable 😭
“‘I know what you feel when you’re with the tracker,’ he said. ‘I doubt that’ He gave a dismissive wave.” - My Malarklina obsessed self, vibrating at the edge of my seat: but what does it mean?!?
Mal and the Darkling’s entire fight in the Fold: dumbass on dumbass violence.
The way he stands with his back turned to Alina when she enters his tent the first time they meet and then does the slowest Godfather turn in history. 1999/10 - points removed for a criminal lack of cat petting.
“I may lead the second army, but the king is still the king.” - the delivery of that line. the implications, the history behind it and also the foreshadowing for his plans.
That slow turn face reveal in episode one though. Like okay we get it you’re pretty alkjsdflkj
Confused Old Man Face™ whenever Mal or Alina do anything remotely defiant in his presence.
How he tells Alina to come closer and she only takes the tiniest step and he doesn’t even react.
His little head cock whenever someone says or does something that just doesn’t vibe with him.
Darklina tumblr has now convinced me that the Darkling is a cat in human form.
“You’re an amplifier,” she said. He glanced at where Sylvi was pouncing on another helpless tree, oblivious, and gave a single, frightened nod. How could he have been so stupid? He would have to tell his mother now, and she would insist that they leave right away. If word got out, they’d both be in danger. Amplifiers were rare, hard to find, harder to hunt. Their lives would be forfeit. Even if they got away, word would spread. He could already hear his mother’s voice: Foolish, careless, callous. If you don’t value your own life, show some concern for mine. Annika touched his sleeve. “It’s okay,” she said. “I won’t tell.” Panic crowded in. He shook his head. She slid her hand into his. It was hard not to pull away. He should. He was breaking his mother’s fundamental rule for keeping them both alive. Never let them touch you, she’d warned him. - 😥 I just want to give him a hug all the time.
His strangled shout when Mal tackles him off of the skiff.
His smile when he’s summoning the sun. The expression on his face when he does so. Like I know I’ve mentioned this before but damn. If you ever needed a reason to celebrate him, this would be it.
“Shame, I’ll have to give that speech again now.”
The way he flips Mal over his shoulder in the Fold after Mal attempts to strangle him.
His little lecture on the Small Science to Alina when they’re going to meet the King. Info dump.
“You make it sound so easy.” “A bird makes flight look easy. But it was born to do so.”
When Alina looks at him for guidance on whether or not to remove her veil and he gives her a small nod.
The handhold in the throne room after Alina’s demonstration is absolutely precious, but it’s in a room full of people he should be keeping up a façade for and it’s so unwarranted and yet he does it anyway, I’m-
The way he says “welcome home, Ms. Starkov,” in the most tender voice I’ve ever heard and then goes “ok that’s enough emotions for one day” and then just straight up leaves without even a goodbye.
He has his symbol?? Sewn into Alina’s kefta??? bRo???!?!
Disaster Simp never gets tired of introducing Alina to other people or talking about how she’s the best thing that ever walked this earth.
The Darkling lying: honestly
“I have devoted my life to undoing the great sin of my forebearer, but I am never seen as the solution. Only as a reminder of the problem.” Sasha you were literally the problem. What a manipulative little shit. We love to see it.
The way he closes his eyes and kisses the coin before he makes a wish at the wishing well.
“I think the Grand Palace is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.” - I love him your honor.
This man has the most intense lines for Alina. Like straight up I would have booked it when he said “you and I are going to change the world”. But then the head grab?! “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.” He’s so intense like sir can you tone it down a bit please I am begging you.
“I shall be right by your side.” / “We can do anything. Together.” / “For us.” / “You cannot do this on your own. And neither can I” / “I want you to know my name. The name I was given, not the title I took for myself. Will you have it, Alina?” - WEDDING VOWS
That scene in the war room when Alina comes to find him and he instantly drops his guard and lowers his arms and welcomes her with a soft voice.
“Am I bothering you?” “Not at all.” - girl you could be stabbing him in the chest and you still wouldn’t be bothering him.
This whipped disaster sounds like the proudest man on the planet when he talks about how much more his enemies fear Alina over him.
His shadows react to his emotions.
“YoUr’E nOt IvAn.” asjlkdfjs god he’s so embarrassing.
Local Dark Lord Sasha offering Alina the throne after she literally tries to kill him.
He gets so jealous of Mal.
Has a great relationship with his soldiers and his men. His men trust him implicitly and believe him to be an amazing general.
When he turns around after Alina puts the kefta on him and looks flustered/has to take a breath because she’s a lot closer than he expected. The way he’s breathless and literally can’t string a sentence together because he’s so distracted by her closeness.
His jokes are absolutely terrible.
GF: *jokes about throwing herself down the stairs to get out of an event* Sasha “no thoughts head empty only Alina” Morozova: haha I’d just have my healers heal you right back up again.
How genuinely touched he is by Alina admitting to wanting to help Grisha and Ravkans.
That scene in Demon in the Woods when he notices the intricate details of the politics in the Grisha camp after one meeting with the Elders. He has the Ulle pegged almost instantly.
Born to be a leader. Born to take care of others. Born to protect. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s protecting people. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s leading them and caring for them.
The way he cups his hands around Alina’s face when they’re kissing.
This man gets so starstruck by Alina walking into the Fete that he doesn’t even excuse himself from the King’s side to go to her.
Long haired Aleksander rights!
Ok I know the wig was kind of ugly but he looks pretty with long hair and I think it would look very good on him naturally.
The way he slams his hands together in the Winter Fete scene and instantly turns the room pitch black.
Literally any times he summons shadows is a blessing and we should all celebrate him for it. They are so beautiful. On god if I ever saw his shadows in real life I would be awestruck.
He asks Mal if he’s okay when they first meet.
The pure, barely contained fury directed at the Conductor for daring to harm Alina and kidnap his Grisha.
He always has to make a grand entrance.
This man is like a bloodhound when it comes to Nina. He is very invested in finding her and I feel like that’s never really talked about.
“I know exactly how she felt. The King’s soldiers treated me the same way. Because they knew- they knew that I was more important than any of them.” - the way he says it, like it’s something he has to remind himself of in his head constantly. a justification for the way he’s been treated, the fear he evokes in others. a way to protect himself from the hurt of being ostracized and reviled. arrogance and conceit as a defense against emotional harm.
Also the way his face instantly changes after that, like he’s said too much. vulnerability. lowering his eyes. shifting his eyes. literally just everything about this scene makes me love him all the more.
Dark carriage rides up to the Crows’ hiding place. Grisha circle the area as Aleksander steps from the carriage slowly, dressed all in black, floofy cloak high on his shoulders. Villain Entrance™
Him slowly pulling a knife out of his chest like it shouldn’t have killed him is hot as fuck and also totally badass. Big dick energy.
“I’ve had enough of your lies.” “And what lies are those?” - Alina, pulling out a fifty mile long scroll of grievances: Well, for starters-
This man is literally just an Alina Starkov compliments machine.
He cares so much about the Grisha and their protection. He loves Ravka and his people so much.
He had an entire cult dedicated to him.
“They would approach him. They always did. But he felt more anxious than usual. He’d stopped trying to make friends in the places he and his mother visited—there was no point when they moved on so quickly. Now he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.”
Save a Villain. Murder the King.
Openly admits to staging a coup like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He speaks so slowly. He moves so slowly. Everything he does has to have Purpose and Gravitas.
Theater Nerd™
He knew Nikolai for years and yet couldn’t recognize him as Sturmhond. We do stan an oblivious icon 💕
The Darkling after he gets his ass whooped in Siege and Storm: Mom can you please come pick me up? I’m scared!
He’s here to manipulate sun summoners and murder cities. And unfortunately he’s all out of sun summoners.
Would absolutely get drunk on real alcohol. This man thinks kvas is strong liquor.
Has his wrists exposed exactly one time in the most skin he’s shown all season and it’s when Alina visits him at night in the war room. WHORE!
Was too emotionally slutty and fell for Alina. RIP.
He’s passionate and cold and beautiful and hurt and twisted up in ways nobody could ever hope to understand and he’s stunning.
I would literally kill for this man 🖤✨
131 notes · View notes
celosiaa · 4 years ago
Text
you can talk to me
Summary: Jon may or may not be questioning his gender.  Either way, Martin is there to listen.
CW: dysphoria, periods, panic, self-deprecating thoughts, food mention
for a prompt from @transcendentalbf! <3 hope you all enjoy!
Sasha: you wanted channa masala, right?
Martin: yes! got it in one!
Sasha: of course I did! be back in 15
Martin: <33
Setting his phone back on the desk, Martin tips back in his chair and lets out a sigh, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.  Though it’s been nearly three weeks since he’s started living in the archives, that doesn’t mean that he’s gotten used to it—if anything, the long hours of being constantly on the lookout for anything creeping or crawling across the floor has only served to heighten his pre-existing anxiety.  It’s so lonely here. The low ceiling of the basement seems so vast when you wander beneath it in the dark—and even now, with his friends promising to return with lunch for him shortly, he can’t help but feel the weight of their absence.
Christ, Martin.  You’re pathetic.
Can’t even handle a bit of pain.
As if the thought alone had caused it to happen, the aching roar of his cramps flares up once more, causing him to bend over the desk to breathe through it yet again. It’s just so embarrassing—he’s been on T for years now, surely the bleeding would have stopped—but alas, no such luck to be had.  Of course he would be one of the people for whom it gets worse.  Of course.
I’ve got to text her.
Martin: hey, do you have ibuprofen? didn’t want to look through your desk without asking!
Sasha: course! middle drawer. you okay?
He wants so badly to lie to her, say it’s fine—but he can’t really do that after asking for pain relievers, can he?
Martin: fine!! just having some cramps is all, it’s okay!
Sasha: aw, I’m sorry, Martin :/ need anything else? I can stop by the store later if you need
Martin: not yet. might soon though
Martin: I’m sorry.
Martin: please don’t tell Tim
Sasha: I would never. and don’t worry about it! it’s no trouble. I’ll get you some stuff later, alright?
You’re a burden you’re a burden you’re nothing but a burden
Martin: thanks, sash. you’re the best!
Sasha: <3
Returning his phone to its place on his desk, Martin has to stop to take a few deep breaths—heart pounding with embarrassment over the entire discussion.  He knows it’s alright, knows Sasha means it when she says she doesn’t mind…right?
Jesus, stop it.
Just…take a walk, and  you’ll feel better afterwards.
Standing a bit painfully on swollen legs, Martin swallows a few of Sasha’s ibuprofen before he makes his way toward the stairs, hoping for a chat with Rosie while waiting on lunch.  At the very least, he could get some sunlight, escape from the windowless basement for a while.  He could only hope that the worms aren’t too bad up there.  
The lift dings its arrival to the main floor, where Rosie immediately turns to greet him with a warm smile.
“Ah, Martin! How are you, my dear?” she says as he approaches, looking genuinely glad to see him.
“Can’t complain!” he beams, leaning against her desk with one elbow.  “You doing alright?  Staying out of trouble?”
“You know I’m not,” she laughs, swatting playfully at his arm.  “But neither are you, I’m sure.”
“Got me there.”
Martin can’t help but smile back, pleased at the thought of bringing happiness to someone’s day, satisfied to listen to her stories of cats and knitting circles and whatever soaps she’s been watching on telly.  It reminds him of his mum, a bit—the nicer parts of her, anyway.
“Oh, that reminds me—“ she bends down beneath her desk to pull out a thin package, handing it over to him.  “This was delivered for Jon this morning.  Probably listed the Institute on the order form by accident again. Would you be so kind as to take it to him when you go back down?”
Holding it in his hands, Martin can feel the shape of the thing within it—some sort of soft fabric, stamped on top with a return label indicating a very nice clothing brand.
Date clothes.
He’s got a date.
Even as his heart sinks, Martin curses himself for it—it’s none of his business, Jon wants nothing to do with him, has no interest at all—after all, how could he? How could he when he’s…well, him?
“Stop making this about you, Martin,” he hears his mother say, closing his eyes against the memory.  “You’ve always got to spoil everything, don’t you?”
“Martin? You alright, love?” Rosie asks quietly, and Martin looks up to see her worried face—hand coming to rest lightly on his arm.
Damn it.
“Oh, ha, of course, Rosie!  S-sorry, it’s just—“
He backs away from the desk, pressing the call button for the lift.
“I’d better get back downstairs, then.  Don’t—don’t want to keep Jon waiting.  For his package, I mean.”
The lines of Rosie’s face only deepen, staring concernedly at him as he steps into the lift.
“Oh—alright, dear,” she says, a bit surprised at his sudden retreat.  “Come back and visit sometime, alright?  I’ll make us tea on your next break.”
“That sounds lovely,” he replies, forcing a wide grin to his face, flooded with guilt that she feels the need to make tea for him, when that’s supposed to be his responsibility.
“Nasty child, always making things about yourself.”
God, stop it.
“I’ll see you later then,” he continues with a wave, begging the lift doors to close quickly and hide his face.
Breathing deeply a few times before Jon’s office door, Martin finally gathers the courage to knock.
“Come in,” comes Jon’s baritone from behind the door, and he swings it open with a gentle creak.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt—Rosie had a package for you at the desk,” Martin says in as cheery a tone as he can manage, holding out the floppy package to Jon.
At once, Jon’s eyes go wide—he snatches it from Martin’s hands, setting it quickly out of sight with a blush rising to color his cheeks.
“Oh, th-thank you, Martin, erm—must have, must have accidentally sent it here,” he stammers, hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, no longer meeting Martin’s eyes.
Just get out just get out
“It’s no trouble,” he replies, and it’s far too happy, too sharp, too loud to be natural. “Sorry!  Sorry.  I’ll just be going, then.”
He closes the door on Jon’s shocked face, clearly surprised that Martin had not kept trying to make conversation, as usual.  Stepping away from the door, he tilts his head back against the tears springing to his eyes—Jon was so clearly flustered by the package, confirming what he already knew: he’s seeing someone else.
Stop it stop it stop it
Furious with himself, at the hollow cavern of his chest, he turns toward the break room—determined to at least make this lunch normal and pleasant.  
Just be normal.
For once, just do it right.
Though the hour is just barely approaching 8pm, Martin is more than ready to settle in for what he hopes might be some half-decent sleep.  He’d been on the lookout for worms all day, as usual, but had really found very few—and certainly none within the sealed doors of document storage.  Even if the air feels a bit stuffy, it’s nice to have a bit of added security that those things couldn’t possibly reach him in here.  Or so he hopes.
It’s as if the cot has its own gravitational pull, beckoning him to just tip to the side, to let it all wash away into sleep—the only problem being that he cannot yet bring himself to take off his binder.  To put it mildly, it’s been a day, even with the lovely lunch Tim and Sasha had brought him, even with the warming cup of tea he and Rosie had shared. The idea of kicking his dysphoria into an even higher gear  is enough to set his heart pounding again, so much that every time he tries to just take it off, your lungs will thank you—he can’t get past even touching the hem sitting tightly against his ribcage.
Leaning back against the concrete wall, he smacks the back of his head against it a few times in frustration, before ceasing at the pain reverberating through his skull.
Just take it off just take it off just—
He pulls it up just a little higher.
Nononononono I can’t I can’t I can’t—
Bringing it back down against his pounding pulse, he forces himself to take deep, grounding breaths, shuddering and hitching a bit as his frustration builds up to form a lump in his throat.
Pathetic pathetic pathetic—
His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of his phone against his thigh.
Sasha: hey, Martin—I popped some tampons and pads into your desk drawer.  saw your door closed and thought you might not want company right now.
Sasha: and I got you some ice cream.  double chocolate fudge.  I’ve left it on the top shelf of the break room freezer.
Sasha: hope you’re alright—love you <3
Oh god.
Martin feels his eyes welling up as soon as he starts reading, the tears causing the words to swim almost too badly to see.  God, Sasha—she always knows what to say, just what he needs—and he barely had to say a word about it.
Martin: love you too, Sash.  you’re unbelievable.  I can’t wait to tuck in!  love love love you <3
Sasha: good man!  I don’t want to see any left by the time I get in tomorrow.  goodnight, handsome <3
Oh god oh god oh god
He can’t help but clutch the phone tightly to his chest, allowing a tear or two slip down the side of his cheeks with a soft smile.  “Good man,” “goodnight handsome—“ even if he knows she’s saying it because of the dysphoria, it means everything to him that she would even think about it. That she would even notice it.
That she cares enough to want to make him feel better.
Dizzy with happiness, Martin slips out from under the covers and heads into the archives to retrieve his ice cream.  
Spoon and his wonderful frozen gift in his hands, he makes his way back to document storage—knowing that if Jon were there, he’d be livid to see him take any sort of food or drink into a place where such precious pieces of spooky history are kept.  In spite of himself, he lets the corners of his mouth turn up at the thought, imagining how terribly cross he would be, hands on his hips, shouting up at Martin, who stands a foot taller than him—
There’s a light on in Jon’s office.
Surely he’s…not…
Worry pooling in his stomach, Martin pads as silently as possible over to the partially-open door, peering inside just in case, hoping against hope that he’s not going to find more worms, or someone covered in worms, or Prentiss herself—
His heart leaps into his throat at once.
Inside the room, he finds Jon—with no worms in sight, no injuries—staring at the full length mirror on the wall.  Hanging from his frame is a loose and flowing dress, thin shoulder straps drooping down into a dark navy ‘v’ across his chest, blue and white striped skirt falling graciously around his hips and to the floor.  Slits in the fabric run from the hem up to his knees, giving the entire piece such a feeling of freedom—and the look on Jon’s face says he feels just the same.  His eyes sparkle as he moves about in the skirt, feeling the fabric against his legs, reaching up to let his hair hang loosely over his bare shoulders.  It’s lovely, it’s soaring, it’s—
Intensely private.
Oh god, I shouldn’t be here.
Desperate to leave as silently as he came, Martin takes a step back—right onto a worm wriggling beneath his foot.
“AAGH!” he yells, dropping the ice cream and spoon at once, scrambling backwards to grab a book from the desk behind him, smashing into the horrible little thing until it is well past dead.
“God, sorry,” he pants, swiping a hand across the sweat of his brow, setting the other to rest over his chest as he bends over to catch his breath.  “Sorry, I must have scared you, I just saw the light on, and I—“
When he looks up, he’s greeted with the sight of a man frozen in place—eyes wide with shock, and…fear?  He stands with his back pressed against the opposite wall, no breath visible in the movement of his shoulders as he stares back into Martin’s eyes.
“A-are you alright?  Jon?” he asks carefully, taking a cautious step forward.
He receives no reply in return—the only movement visible to him the shakiness of his legs.
“You don’t look w—oh, Christ,” Martin yelps, rushing forward to catch Jon as he starts to slip to the ground.
It strikes Martin suddenly that he still hasn’t seen Jon take a breath—and he begins heaving at once, lungs gasping for oxygen.
“God—that’s it, just take a breath, just--just take a breath,” Martin encourages nervously, sweeping his eyes over him for some sort of injury.  “Are you alright?”
Jon does not reply for a few moments, eyes still blown wide and wild, before at last turning them up to meet Martin’s gaze as his breaths begin to slow.
“Y-you—“ he begins, before his eyes sweep downwards for just a sliver of a moment. “You’re wearing…a binder.”
Oh, Christ.
With a start, Martin looks down at himself—only just realizing that he’s crouching in his boss’s office, wearing nothing but his boxers and a skin-tone binder.
“O-oh, God, I—“ he instinctively brings up his arms to cover himself.  “S-sorry, I just—I didn’t mean—“
“N-no, Martin—that’s not—that’s not what I meant,” Jon assures in a anxious rush, reaching out to touch his arm—before hurriedly jerking it back.
“No?”
“No, I—“ he cuts off again, pressing a hand over his chest as he takes another grounding breath.  “I’m really—I’m actually…relieved.”
Now Martin is properly confused.
“You’re…relieved?”
“Yes, I—“ he looks up, laughing a bit wetly before continuing.  “I suppose you…you wouldn’t…I suppose you would understand. Perhaps.”
“Understand…”
It hits Martin like a train, now that the panic of a possible crisis has been averted: the dress.
“OH!  Oh, I—I’m so sorry I burst in on you, Jon, I didn’t…I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t do that.  On purpose.  I can leave you alone?  Or to change, if you feel uncomfortable.”
“I—I think I would like that.  To change, I mean.  You can—“
He drops his gaze to the floor.
“You can come back.  If you want.”
For a moment, Martin allows hope to swell in his chest—before quashing it rather forcefully.
“O-Okay! Sure, I’ll just—I’ll be back in a mome, I’ll just…put some clothes on.  Right.”
Elegant exit made, Martin briefly allows the shock to wash over him before dashing back to document storage—popping on a pair of pyjama trousers and a band t-shirt, sure to grab a canister of CO2 for proper protection this time.  On his journey back, he spots the ice cream he’d flung to the floor at the sight of the worm—a bit melted now, perhaps—but if anything warrants some slightly-melty ice cream, it’s the conversation that he thinks Jon wants to have now.  Turning on his heel, he grabs two spoons from the kitchen, and by the time he gets back, Jon’s office door has been propped back open.  He knocks against it lightly all the same.
“Jon? Alright if I come in?”
“Y-yes—erm, have a seat, if you’d like,” he says from his desk chair,  now back in his typical work-day cardigan, hair pulled into a bit of a messy bun.
“Right, sure,” Martin replies, settling in the chair opposite him and offering a smile. “Feels like I’m about to give a statement or something.”
To his complete surprise, the corners of Jon’s mouth actually turn up a bit at this—and though he still will not meet Martin’s eyes, something about the openness of his expression tells Martin to mark this moment as one to remember.
“I suppose it must feel rather like that,” he agrees, beginning to fiddle with a pen on his desk, staring intently at it.
They sit like this for quite a while—letting the silence settle, as Martin tries to intuit whether or not he ought to say something.  Worrying at his bottom lip to keep himself from speaking, he tries not to stare at Jon, wanting him to feel comfortable, just wanting him to know that he’s there for whatever he needs to say.
It’s the most unnatural thing in the world for him to do—but it appears to have been the right decision, as Jon at last begins to speak.
“I haven’t,” he begins, before clearing his throat.  “I’ve never worn a dress before.”
Ah. So it is what I thought.
Leaning forward against the table, Martin tilts his head in an effort to let Jon know that it’s okay, you can look at me, you’re safe here—but he’s not quite ready yet, and Martin is certainly armed with patience.
“I think that’s great, Jon!  I think that’s really great that you tried it,” he begins, hoping that this is what Jon needs to hear in this moment.  “Do you want to—I mean you don’t have to, but—do you want to talk about it?”
Brows furrowing, Jon stops twiddling the pen long enough to glance up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I just…I mean…how did it make you—feel?” Martin clarifies, and Jon nods in response.
“Ah, I see. I—erm—“ and away he looks again, back to staring at the pen, perhaps more nervous than Martin has ever seen him. “It’s…difficult to say, I suppose. I’m not quite sure yet.”
“That’s okay, that’s perfectly natural,” Martin is quick to assure, running a hand over the bits of stubble that have crept up over his chin.  
He remembers this, remembers the doubt, the exploration of what he did and did not want, what he did and did not feel—it was far from easy to do, and he’s starting to think it’s much the same for Jon.  
Perhaps I ought to start at the beginning
“Are you—and you don’t have to answer this, but—are you…thinking about your gender identity?” he asks, watching Jon’s body language carefully.
He seems to curl up further into his seat, shoulders hunching in a way that makes Martin’s own hurt just looking at them.
“I don’t—I don’t know,” Jon mutters, hugging his arms tightly across his chest. “I’m…hesitant to say, really, I just…”
He sighs, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes, arms braced against each arm rest.
“I happened to see that dress a few months ago, and it wouldn’t leave my mind, and I had some extra money to spare, and…and I bought it.  I don’t know why.”
All of this spills from Jon in such a rush that it winds him, still not opening his eyes.
“That’s okay, Jon.  Really. You don’t need to know why right now, okay?  This kind of stuff can be complicated,” Martin soothes, letting out a little huff of laughter.  “Believe me, I understand.”
At this, Jon opens his eyes again, bringing them up to meet his ever-so-slowly.  Once they land there, though…Martin has a feeling that they will be fixed on him for the rest of this conversation, though he cannot put a finger on why.
“Would you tell me?” Jon asks in a near whisper, leaning against arms which he’s propped up on his desk.  “I mean—I would like to know how you found out, if you don’t mind.”
“Ah. Right.  Erm…well, I suppose I was pretty young when I started to figure it out. I’d never…I’d never really felt like me in my body, you know?  The long hair, the school uniforms, just…it wasn’t right.  At least not for me.”
He pauses for a moment, half expecting Jon to interrupt, to tell him he’s heard enough—but Jon still appears transfixed, as if he’s drinking in every word he has to say.
“But I didn’t really understand what that meant until secondary school.  I was…well, let’s just say it was an upsetting time for me all around, right?  One day I felt upset enough to chop off my own hair in the bathroom.  And it was long by that time—nearly down to my waist.”
He laughs briefly at the remembrance, running a hair through his now-shorn locks.
“I cut it off—and it was like some small part of me started to understand.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I tried to dress in what I thought boys should wear, walked around dressed like that to see what would happen—and the first time that someone called me “Mister Blackwood,” I just…it’s was like a great big wave of relief. It was like someone finally saw me. Like I finally saw me.”
Pausing there, he looks back up at Jon’s face—still reverently focused on his own. It sends a chill up his spine, in not an entirely unpleasant way.
“Thank you, Martin,” he murmurs at last, lowering his hands away from his face to stretch out across the table.  “Thank you for telling me.  That’s very…insightful.”
“Is it?” he replies, leaning towards him once again.  “Can you tell me why?”
He can almost hear the gears turning in Jon’s head—the lines of deep-seated thought clear on his face.  After a rather long silence, he begins to speak again, voice more certain than it has sounded all evening.
“The feeling of it.  What you said about not being able to get it out of your mind, I just—” he breaks off to sigh, frustrated with the way the words are stringing together.  “I’m not saying I understand completely, because it’s obviously your experience and not mine, but…”
He swallows, setting his face with such strength of intention that Martin finds himself bracing for the impact.
“I liked it. The dress.  I liked the fabric, I liked the way it…the way it looked on me. I…I liked feeling…feminine, I suppose you could say.”
In this moment, Martin is not sure he has ever felt such a surge of affection for the person before him—which is saying quite a lot, all things considered.
“I’m really happy for you, Jon!  Thank you for sharing that with me, I know that’s not always easy.”
Jon’s only response is a curt nod, his penchant for decorum and professionalism shining through even in this moment of relative vulnerability.
“Could I ask you—have you thought about pronouns?  Or names? I mean—I’m happy to call you however you want to be called.  Or perhaps even to try something new out, if you want.  Just to see,” he quirks up a little smile at him, pleased that Jon feels comfortable enough to look back at him.
“Erm—I suppose I had thought about it a bit,” he says as he wraps his arms around his middle again, a gesture that Martin knows to be one of self-comfort.  “I…I don’t think I would want to change my name. Not now, anyway.  I rather like how it sounds.”
“That’s alright!  I…I think your name is lovely, if that matters,” Martin replies—flushing as he realizes what he’s just said.  “Erm—anyway, what about pronouns?  Do you want to keep using he/him?  Or do you want to try something else?”
Again, Jon seems perfectly at ease to think about this in silence for a bit—turning away and twirling a loose strand of his hair with his right index finger.  That all-too-familiar twinge in his chest returns with a vengeance at the sight, endlessly endeared to everything about him.
God, stay focused for one moment, Martin.
“I—would you mind to try they/them?  I don’t—I don’t think I want to try it around the office yet or, but…would you?  Try it?”
“Of course!” Martin breathes at once, hand reaching out instinctively to cover Jon’s own where it rests on the table—and to his utter shock, Jon does not even flinch at the contact, nor try to pull away.  “Of course I will, Jon.  Do you want me to try it now?  I can say some sentences so you can feel it out.”
“I…yes. Yes, that would be lovely, Martin,” Jon replies softly, still not moving his hand away.
“Right. Erm…okay.  This is Jon. They work at the Magnus Institute. They’re the Head Archivist, and their work is very important.  I like to bring them cups of tea in the afternoon, and they wear cardigans almost every day,” he pauses there, reading the smile creeping up on Jon’s face like the sun breaking through the clouds—and knowing in that moment, that they must have gotten it right.
“So?  How did it feel?”
The smile takes on a full-bodied appearance now—eyes sparkling dark and gentle across the table, boring into his own with such depth of meaning that Martin is not sure he could ever fully take in.
“Yes,” they reply simply, smile spreading even wider.  “Yes, I—I rather liked that.”
“I’m really glad, Jon!  I mean—I would have been glad even if you didn’t like it, of course—the important thing is that you tried it out,” Martin stammers, nervousness somehow creeping back into his words.
“Thank you, Martin.  I’ve…greatly enjoyed this talk,” Jon says, at last pulling their hand away from beneath Martin’s to point it at the forgotten tub of ice cream, currently sweating a circle of moisture on the wood of their desk.  “I think you might want to get back to this before it melts, however.”
“Oh!  Oh, right—I forgot I sat it there!” Martin replies, grabbing it quickly and rubbing a sleeve over the damp spot it created on the wood.  “I actually—“
No no no, stop.
Don’t make it awkward
Don’t ruin it don’t ruin it don’t—
“Would you like some?” Martin presses on, against every voice that tells him to do the contrary.  “I—I actually brought two spoons, I thought…I thought maybe you could use a pick-me-up. After I barged in on you like that.”
The expression Jon gives back to him now is a mixture of things—incomprehension, confusion, disbelief—and perhaps, just perhaps, a small bit of delight.
“You don’t—you don’t need to do that, I—“
“I insist, Jon. Please have some with me,” he interrupts, handing him one of the spoons.  “Sasha told me to have it gone by morning, and there’s no way I can do that myself.”
“Well,” Jon replies, taking the spoon from him with just a whisper of a grin.  “I suppose we’d better get to work, then.”
“Let’s.”
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leonhartlady · 4 years ago
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Another aruani headcanon on Jean finding out about Armin and Annie’s living setup so I can do my other tasks
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Their days blur into endless cycles of meetings and talks with different officials and dignitaries. Most times, Jean would go with Connie and Reiner to try out a new restaurant, but today he was feeling a bit out of it. Sorry Sasha, maybe next time. Connie can be the one to tell you all about this one.
He was starting to walk off but he was interrupted by someone. “Jean!” Armin shouted. “You can come with us, I’ll ask them to drop you off at your house.”
Typical Armin. Jean knew that Armin was always dropping off Annie at her house. She probably lives somewhere close to him.
“Are you sure? I know my house is a little bit far from yours.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Jean climbs in the—what is this called again? The mechanical carriage? A car. Annie is lazily looking out the window, and Armin scoots over to give Jean a space to sit.
The ride was quiet, and they arrived at Armin’s house first. Armin gets ready to alight, and he asks Jean, “Do you want to go inside first? Maybe have a cup of tea?”
Jean wanted to say no, but seeing how Annie is already preparing to go, he agrees. A cup of tea couldn’t hurt anyway.
They walk into the house. Jean has been in Armin’s house countless times, but it has been quite a while since he was last here. As Jean removed his shoes in the entryway, he couldn’t help but notice how Annie put her shoes in the rack where Armin puts his shoes. When did Armin rack up a lot of shoes?
His thoughts were interrupted as Armin called him inside. “Sit wherever. I’ll just make the tea.” Annie excuses herself and Jean sits at the end of one of the couches.
He studies Armin’s living room. There are books that Jean guesses are books that Armin was planning to read, or currently reading, or probably finished reading, all mixed in one pile. Except this time, the books were neatly arranged in a pile beside the fireplace, not haphazardly stacked in a corner. Three or so books were on the table, closed and bookmarked. The Rules of War and Peace. That’s Armin Arlert for you.
He notices a cat slinking around his legs. Armin got a cat?
“So you’ve already met Blanca.” Armin smiles and hands him a cup of tea. “Sorry for taking so long. And sorry for the mess.”
“Since when did you have a cat?”
“Not too long; we got her from a neighbor a couple of weeks ago.”
Jean almost choked on his tea. “We....?”
“Blancaaa...” Annie called the cat. Wait, why is Annie wearing different clothes?
Jean stares at her, puzzled. “I didn’t know you brought clothes with you.”
Annie deadpans, “No, I got them from the dresser.”
Jean, shocked, turns to Armin. “She has clothes here?”
Armin stares at Jean, confused. “Of course. She lives here.”
Jean stared at them both in shock. A full minute has passed when he spoke again.
“What... when... why... You’re living together??”
“Yes, well...” Armin admits rather bashfully, “I think it has been around three months since Annie moved in here.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Annie snaps at him, just like how she usually talks. “Well, you never asked.”
Jean considers this. Fair point. “What made you decide to live together?”
“I have been getting nightmares since we got back,” Annie confesses. “And apparently, Armin has been getting them too.”
Jean understands. He and Connie spent a lot of nights just talking about everything that happened, and even then there are still so many things left to say.
“I hope it’s better for you now.”
“Yes, definitely.” Armin smiles, “At the very least, it’s comforting to know that when you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not alone.” He looks at Annie. “Not anymore.”
They sip their tea in silence, only broken by Blanca’s little meows.
A little later, Jean tells them that he needs to go home.
“Are you sure? You won’t stay for dinner?”
“No, I’m good. Besides, I know Connie will be bringing something from where he and Reiner went tonight. I better get going. But before that,” he stands up. “may I use your bathroom?”
“Sure. It’s down the hallway to the left.” Jean stands up to go to the bathroom.
As he got out of the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of the room across, which is the bedroom.
Wait, there’s only one bed...?
He shook his head, and said good night to his friends before heading out.
This I can tell both Sasha and Connie.
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aetheternity · 4 years ago
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Hard pass 2 (Levi x Reader)
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I'm a little concerned about how little time I took on the ending for the last part so I'm gonna put a little more time into this one. Hope you guys enjoy. :)
Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.
Levi was transfixed to say the least. He'd spent the past hour that he'd been back in his dorm room staring into a freshly made cup of black tea. The small jingling of keys in the door shaking him from his daze.
"Hello, Hello Leviathan." Mike greeted, tossing his bag to the side haphazardly.
Any other time Levi would've rolled his eyes but he just let out an agitated huff.
"Uh oh.. I know that look." Mike announced plopping down onto his unmade bed. "Who's the lucky girl?" He asked his smirk bright.
Levi's hair whipped against his cheek as he turned to Mike. "What are you on about? Who told you?" Probably Hange. Damn four eyes could never keep her mouth shut.
"No one had to." Mike laughed "You've just told me basically everything I need to know. Your distracted gaze when I came in the room, having very little reaction to me calling you Leviathan, your tea cup is still full and my side of the room is still messy." He seemed a little too pleased about that last bit.
"I know you went out tonight." He continued
"And what about it?"
"Who is she?!" Mike stood coming closer to sit on the edge of Levi's desk.
Levi rolled his eyes setting his cup down.
"Come on, I'm curious about some mysterious girl that has Levi Ackerman wrapped around her finger."
"Just shut up already." Levi replied turning his gaze to the window with a small pout.
"Fine, fine I'll shut up." Mike stood heading back towards his side of the room. An idea suddenly popped into his mind and he turned on his heel. "But.. I think I'll give Hange a call. You know.. cause I haven't talked to her in a bit-"
"When did you become so annoying?" Levi grumbled
"You're more aggressive tonight I like it. Is it because of her?"
As much as Levi wanted to fight it, Mike was one of those people that always got information about literally anything if he genuinely wanted it. Even if he didn't find out from Hange or Levi he was definitely going to find out from even the weirdest sources.
"Hange's friend.. she's not ugly I guess.." Levi could feel his face growing warm and he pulled his feet up onto his desk chair to hide it.
Mike laughed obnoxiously, "It's like watching a little kid finding out what a crush is." He chuckled "Super cute. So when are you going to ask her out?"
"Never."
Mike crossed the room again, seating himself on his bed. "You can't be serious! This is the first time I've ever seen you interested in girls and you're just gonna let her get away?"
"Stay out of my business, Michelangelo."
Mike just huffed reaching into his pocket to pry his phone out of his pocket. The room quickly grew quiet as Levi turned to his laptop though he was quickly distracted again by Mike's little chuckles. He turned his head in Mike's direction quickly catching the other male's gaze.
"By the way, Hange agrees with me." He said pointing to his phone.
Levi groaned, tugging at his hair. "Eat shit."
~ ~ ~ ~
Levi stared down at his watch with a soft tch.
It was 4pm and Hange was late again. He turned to Erwin who's face was currently pressed into a book. Thumb sliding along the sentences as he read.
"Where the hell is she?" He grumbled, shaking his mouse back and forth as the screen began to dim.
"She said she had to do something after class so she'd be a little late." Erwin replied, without looking up from his book.
"That's her excuse every time." Levi replied with a roll of his eyes.
Erwin just shrugged. Hange was always late. Sometimes she just showed up 30 minutes late with no real explanation and sometimes she showed up an hour late saying she had, had something to do after class. But every time the three of them got together to study she was late.
"Yo! Levi!" Hange greeted as she walked into the library ignoring the chorus of shushing that followed her.
Levi's scowl deepened, "Were you stuck on the toilet waiting for someone to fuck off?" He asked
"I have a great surprise follow me." She clapped in delight.
Erwin looked to Levi and then in the direction Hange had left in. He slowly pushed his chair out looking at Levi's irritated scowl.
"Are you coming."
"Whatever it is, is definitely stupid knowing Hange." Levi retorted, packing his belongings up in an orderly fashion.
The two of them quickly left before Hange could come back to ruin the peace again. They pushed through the library doors and standing against the wall with a somewhat bashful expression was Y/N with Hange who smiled brightly as if she wasn't currently disturbing Levi's peace.
"Oh hello Y/N." Erwin greeted, he looked over at Levi before asking. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh well Hange invited-"
"Ah ha ha! Y/N has homework to do so I figured she could come study with us. Though today me and Erwin have a thing." She quickly grabbed Erwin's arm yanking him over to her.
"But I was-" Erwin tried but was instantly silenced by Hange's hand over his mouth.
"You and Levi can study. Levi's great with everything! Right Levi? Ok me and Erwin will go now, by you two!"
"Hange!" Levi tried, his face already flushed with heat over the whole situation. Hange was surprisingly fast though, managing to drag Erwin away so quick they were a couple of dots within seconds.
Levi and Y/N stood in silence for a couple seconds before Y/N let out a deep exhale. "I feel as though we've been set up." She says, toying with the zippers on her back.
Levi can only manage a grunt in reply. Not daring to look into her eyes. "Well I mean.." she starts turning to Levi. "I actually do.. have to study so.. I wouldn't mind if you don't." She shrugged
"Mm.." Levi pulled open the library door for Y/N and lead her over the seats that him and Erwin had been sitting in only moments before.
He made a mental note as he opened his laptop again to keep the door locked next time Hange said she was coming over. Around 10 minutes went by of complete silence and Levi was incredibly happy for it.
Not because he was focusing, no his attention had been completely taken away from any possible work he could've gotten done here. There was no way he was actually going to be able to do anything when your scent was trapped in his nose and his eyes kept staring over his screen at your fingers.
Knuckles that Levi honestly wanted to kiss and fingernails completely devoid of dirt which Levi was instantly captivated by.
"Hey-"
He sat up straight, his own hands slightly curling around the aged wood of the table. Your book came sliding toward him and he looked down at it before looking back at you.
"I don't really get this? Could you help me a bit?"
Levi nodded before his brain could properly process what you'd asked. He almost thought he imagined the way your lip tucked itself under your teeth. And he felt dazed as your scent washed over him all at once as you slid into the seat next to him.
You pointed to your book and Levi tried to pay attention to your question but your notes threw him a bit. All the words were written in different colors and there were squiggly lines around definitions and texts. Small doodles between paragraphs as a way to properly space them and stars next to the most important words.
You scratched at your scalp and he took notice. "I paid attention when my professor was going over this I swear. But I don't really get it?? It can't be as difficult as I'm making it in my head." Your giggle of nervousness took Levi back a little.
The warm pit in his chest deepened and he sighed, trying to accurately assess the situation.
"Y-you made a small.. mathematical error." He explained, his fingers pointed to the equation as he tried to push away the ball in his throat. "You don't need these numbers."
Her smile hit Levi like a truck as it was instantly directed towards him. "Ah, you're so smart." Y/N said "What about this? I checked with the calculator but my answer was way off."
It was hard for Levi to ignore the way your shoulder rubbed up against his sending sparks all through his body like a tidal wave. It was honestly a little overwhelming.
"Oh sorry, am I too close?" You moved away and Levi gulped. He stared at your fingers, he didn't want you to move away.
He was surprised when he looked up and instantly made eye contact with you. "Stay." It probably didn't come out the way he'd wanted but he'd managed it and on some level he was proud of himself.
You smiled, "Sure."
After a while Levi felt himself loosen up a bit but the knot in his stomach was still very much there and alive. He found himself chuckling at your little jokes and he was mostly able to look you in the eyes. (As long as you didn't smile directly at him).
The first hour had been studying with small quips from your end that Levi found he enjoyed. Though around the third hour it turned into horror stories about present and past roommates.
Your laugh was so bright as you tapped your pen cap against the table. "And then Sasha just cracks the window open though it's definitely too late cause Connie had already created a war zone in our room." You were shaking so much from laughter that Levi was honestly a little worried you'd fall out of your chair.
He shook his head where he was resting it in his palm. "I still think Mike forgetting the do not disturb sign was worse." He shrugged
"Mm well maybe someday I'll have a story that bad. Considering Connie and Sasha have been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse for two years now."
Levi shook his head. "You don't want to walk in on your roommate having sex. No one does.."
He felt his cheeks flush over again. Whether it was from the story or the way you'd playfully pushed his shoulder though he couldn't tell. He watched as you positioned yourself back in the seat next to him.
"Ok, ok. You told me about your roommates relationships. Now tell me about yours."
"What?"
Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "You know the in and out of Levi. I'm curious."
Levi's gaze fell to the table. "There's nothing to tell."
Y/N's voice immediately softened. "Sorry, didn't mean to try and pull it out of you."
Levi picked up his head closing his laptop. "I-I just.. never felt that way.." he tried
"Not everyone goes to college and high school and stuff for the parties, drugs and sex." You said, laying your elbows against the desk. "I commend you for having a goal and sticking with it."
Levi's heart stuttered at your words. "Did you come.. or well.. umm? What did you-"
He was interrupted by your hand on his shoulder again. "To answer your question." You leaned in closer your breath tickling Levi's earlobe. "Yes I did come specifically for the drugs."
Levi's eyes practically bulged out of his head. This time when you laughed you were met with shushing and stares. "Sorry." You whispered, popping a hand over your mouth. "I'm completely joking." You then said to Levi who's shoulders relaxed with the information.
Levi's signature deadpanned expression was starting to make an appearance now. "That's not funny."
"Hmm.. well I'm laughing so." Y/N laid her head on the table.
"Your humor is shit." He said
"Funny you say that." She laughed back a smirk was playing at Levi's lips. "Hey." Y/N broke the lingering silence.
"What?"
"Give me your number."
"Tch, nice way to ask."
Y/N pretended to be shocked. "Oh, would you prefer I beg?"
Levi already knew how red his entire face had become. No need to check a mirror. "H-hand me your p-phone."
Unsurprisingly even her phone wa as cute. And Levi honestly wanted to admire the case and how warm it felt after being in your pockets. Oh.. you'd touched it with your warm hands. Levi couldn't help but think about how warm your hands must feel. How the spaces between your fingers looked so perfect. Like they-
"Hey." A voice shook Y/N and Levi.
"Jean, what're you doing here?" Y/N asked as she stood moving closer to him.
"You've been gone all day. I had to ask Sasha where you were."
"No, you didn't because you didn't need to come here." Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. Her eyebrows scrunched together.
"Who's this?" Jean asked gesturing to Levi with his head. Levi felt his chest flare a little.
"Ugh, it doesn't matter because it has nothing to do with you!" She quickly grabbed her bag stuffing her notebook inside. "I'll talk to you later Levi." She explained her face still completely unamused. And with that she was pushing Jean out the door following him right out.
Levi's fingers dug into his palm. Who was that? It couldn't have been her boyfriend right? No, no that didn't make sense.
He started to pack up himself when he noticed your pretty phone sat next to his ordinary black one.
~ ~ ~ ~
Levi practically slammed into his dorm room scaring Mike who had his music blasting. Levi set his bag down on his chair, placing his phone on the desk.
"Hey man." Mike greeted as Levi quickly unpacked his other stuff. "I heard Hange forced you to go on a study date."
"I'm going to murder her." Levi turned, practically slamming his notebook into the desk. So hard that he could've sworn Mike jumped.
"Yeah what else is new?" He laughed trying to clear the air. "But did you at least get in close?"
Levi rolled his eyes. "She's.. there's this guy.."
Mike grew quiet for a few seconds. "You think she's with him?"
Levi normally wouldn't indulge Mike like this but his chest felt so tight that he was pretty sure he was going to burst. "She didn't seem happy to see him. She was like rolling her eyes when he came."
"Maybe he's just some guy then?"
"What if he isn't?"
"By the way you're describing it they'll break up soon anyway." Mike said "But that's great my plan worked."
Levi narrowed his eyes, "The library thing was you?"
Mike shrugged, "Hey, It could've been worse! Hange wanted to lock you guys in a supply closet for the night."
"Sleep with one eye open." Levi huffed, placing your phone down on his desk.
Mike immediately noticed, sitting up and placing his own phone to the side. "Don't tell me you murdered her and stole her phone for having a boyfriend that wasn't you." He chuckled
"Tch, she accidentally left it."
"How are you gonna return it?"
"I'll ask Hange for her dorm number tomorrow and I'll hand it over then."
"Ooo, well I would tell you not to go looking through her phone while you have it. But you're not like me so.." Mike shrugged, laying down with both hands holding his phone above his head.
Levi looked at Mike and then at your phone sitting on his desk. He silently looked away, putting away the rest of his stuff with a huff.
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stardusttrashed · 4 years ago
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Lovestruck (4)
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Part 3
Part 5
Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Connie x Sasha
Word Count: 3K
“You even look pretty when you go to sleep,” Erwin praised under his breath, his voice filled with an early morning huskiness. He gently ran the back of his fingers along your cheek down to your jaw. “Just wan’ to stay home all day with you.”
“You better not play hooky, Mr. Smith,” you chuckled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Even if you kept your word.” You could feel him jump slightly at the sound of your voice, which only spurred your chuckles on further.
“Mornin’ darling,” Erwin mumbled against your forehead as he tried to play off the fact that your voice startled him. He slowly pulled away, just enough so he could look at you again. His heart fluttered in his chest as your eyes fluttered open. “H-how long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to hear you talk ‘bout how pretty I am when I sleep,” you cooed as you lazily played with his hair. You kept your focus on the blond strands that slipped through your fingers, too scared to meet his adoring gaze. It was a little overwhelming how he’d look at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his ocean eyes committed to memorizing every little detail about you.
“Well, you are,” he smiled sheepishly. “You’re stunning when you’re asleep and when you’re awake.” He inched his hair closer to your hair, resting his palm on your cheek as his fingers grazed your hairline by your ear. “And I bet you’re stunning with your natural hair.” His eyes grew wide with worry, “n-not that your hair doesn’t look good now!”
“Who said this isn’t my natural hair Erwin Smith?” you asked with a teasing smirk on your lips. It was cute how interested he was in your hair. Even now, you could feel the mixture of eagerness and hesitance as his hand inched closer and closer to play with your hair. You leaned forward enough to let his fingers slide through your flat-ironed hair, watching his eyes twinkle with wonder.
“The way your wispies curl,” he smiled as his fingers took a break from running through your hair to play with your edges.
“My wispies,” you repeated him with a loving smile. “Wow, I-,” you stopped yourself with a chuckle. “I promise we can talk about my hair later,” you began to untangle yourself from him, making your way out of the bed, “after you’re done with work.”
A groan fell from Erwin’s lips as he followed your lead, clambering out of bed. “So, are you stayin’ here or going back to your place?” He wasn’t sure why referring to your place as your home felt so odd to him right now. It almost felt wrong, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. He had no right to think this way. He knew that. It was just one night. And sure, he’s taken you out on plenty of hangouts that teetered on dates for the past month or so. Yeah, sure, he knew he was in love with you since the second hangout-like date. How could he not? But, there was no telling if you felt the same. You could’ve meant numerous things last night.
“You’re welcome to stay and keep Sina company,” he quickly tacked on, breaking free from his thoughts.
Your eyes followed him as he walked towards the bathroom, unapologetically checking him out the whole time. Sure, he looked good dressed up with those button-up shirts that clung to his muscles for dear life, but it was nothing compared to him now. Walking around with his hair disheveled, in nothing but his underwear, damn it was a sight. A sight that you wouldn’t mind seeing every morning and every night for the rest of your life.
“Was thinkin’ bout heading home. I can come back later, though,” you paused, taken off guard as he not so casually stopped in the bathroom doorway to stretch. “O-or you two can come over later,” you continued as you watched the way the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as his arms reached up towards the ceiling, just barely missing it.
Erwin looked over his shoulder at you with a devilish grin, “Well, before you abandon us, do you want to keep me company in the shower?” One of his eyebrows arched up in a playfully seductive way.
“Wow,” you chuckled as you shook your head, “abandoning you? Really ?”
With a slight shrug, a sheepish smile relaced his devilish grin, “what can I say? I enjoy being around you.” He strode across the room towards you. “Want to keep you around as much as I can,” he whispered under his breath as he scooped you into his arms without warning. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”
There it was again, that quiet, smooth voice of his that you noticed would often interrupt his usually confident and collected voice. One moment he was the one causing the blushes, and the next, he’d revert to a friendly giant, blushing and stumbling over his words like a schoolboy.
You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb grazing his flushed cheeks. There was an overwhelming sincerity in his eyes that left you flustered and wordless. “Erwin… you should hurry before you’re late for work.” You pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, “I’ll get my bag and join you in a bit, ‘kay?”
“You brought a bag?” Erwin asked with a half-cocky smile, tightening his grip around you. His cheeks were blazing, but it did little to soothe the overwhelming cockiness surging in his chest. You wanted to stay the night.
“Y-you’re stalling, lover boy,” you argued embarrassedly, pushing against his chest gently as you tried to get out of his arms. “Go shower before you’re late.” You raised your eyebrows at him, sending a warning look that Erwin ignored with a mischievous grin. “Erwin,” you exclaimed as he began carrying you towards the bathroom. “I need my clothes and tooth-.”
“-I have an extra toothbrush you can use. And you can wear one of my shirts,” he set you down on the counter.
“And a shower cap?” Erwin’s eyebrows bunched together in confusion, giving you all the answers you need. “Soo, I still need my bag,” you chuckled as you smoothed out the wrinkles in between his eyebrows with your thumb. “Gon ‘head and hop in,” you jumped off the counter, “be back in a min’. Hopefully, I packed one.” Before he could protest further, you skiped away towards the front door, the soft pitter-patter of feet following close behind. A ball of fluff brushed against your leg, desperately to stay close and figure out your destination. “Morning, sweetheart.” Sina yipped in reply, following you out to your car. You giggled softly as she poked her head into your car after you opened the door, sniffing around excitedly. “Come on, princess, daddy’s waiting on us.”
Locking the car behind you, you and Sina made your way back into the house and eventually back to Erwin’s room. “Wait here, sweetheart,” you told Sina before you closed the bathroom door.
The sound of Erwin’s quiet, baritone humming greeted you first, quickly followed by the steam drifting in the air. You plopped your bag down on the counter before rummaging through it. You searched and searched despite there only being four things in the bag, thinking maybe if you checked just one more time, it’d magically appear.
“Good news and bad news, babe,” you sighed in defeat, taking out your toothbrush and a pair of jeans you didn’t remember packing. “Bad news is I can’t join you in the shower,” you explained as you pulled on the pair of jeans. The childish whine that left Erwin brought a tender smile to your face. You prepped your toothbrush before continuing, “but, on the bright side, you can see me in your shirt still ‘cause I forgot to bring one.”
Erwin turned off the water with a dramatic sigh, “I guess my whole day is ruined now.” He couldn’t help the rumbling chuckle in his chest as he reached around the curtain for his towel. “Woe is me,” he whined, finally pulling back the curtain as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “On second thought,” he breathed, frozen in place with an idiotic grin on his face. You had no right being that cute doing something as mundane as brushing your teeth. Yet, his eyes had no intentions of looking anywhere else, transfixed on your adorable figure.
“What?” you garbled, toothbrush still in your mouth.
Erwin chuckled, finally stepping forward as if your one word released him from whatever spell he was under. “N-nothing, you just… you look cute.” He strode over to you, stopping behind you as he reached for his toothbrush.
“C-cute?!” You spit out with wide eyes that met him in the mirror. You rinsed your mouth, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “You think ’m cute while brushing my teeth?” You finally spoke again once you were done. “Geez, gotta be careful, or someone might say you have it bad,” you teased as you stepped from in front of him.
“Wouldn’t be wrong,” Erwin mumbled as he quickly brushed his teeth.
The rest of the morning went by fairly quietly, both of you too busy blushing to come up with much else to say to each other. You made the bed and fed Sina as he got dressed and gelled down his hair.
“You didn’t have to to that, I would’ve done it,” Erwin spoke, slightly startling you.
“I-it was no problem, really. One less thing for you to worry ‘bout.” You smiled over your shoulder sweetly, your eyes immediately falling to the forest green dress shirt he was adorning. “I- you copy-cat,” you exclaimed with a giggle as you turned to face him. “I mean, the color looks good on you-.”
“I know,” Erwin cut you off. “That’s why I have a shirt in the same color,” he boasted as his eyes flitted down to the forest green t-shirt you took from him. “However, I, uh, I like how it looks on you more.” He tilted his head to the side, taking in every bit of your flustered reaction.
Why were you both like this? Why were you both still turned into blushing messes despite everything that happened last night?
“On that note, you should go before you’re late, and I’m going to leave.” You hesitantly closed the distance between you, stopping right in front of him. You placed your hand on his chest with a loving smile, “have a good day, ‘kay?” After a quick peck on his lips, you scurried out the door, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding once you got in your car. “He’s going to be the death of me,” you whispered to yourself as you drove home.
***
“Where’ve you been? I almost starved to death,” Sasha screeched as you walked towards your front door. Before you even had a chance to jump from being startled, her hands were on your shoulders, shaking you. “Are you trying to kill me?” she whined, pretending to cry.
“I should ask the same thing,” you mumbled, slipping out of her grasp and towards Connie, who was standing at your front door. “Morning,” you said in more of a question than a statement. You were hoping he could fill you in on why in the hell they were there so early without you having to actually ask.
“BFB day? Best friend breakfast,” he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, “Your day to cook, remember?”
“Course I remember, dummy,” you murmured with an eye roll. “How could I forget?” Erwin, that’s how. With a sigh, you moved to unlock the door but was held back by a tugging on your shirt.
“When’d you get this?” Sasha inquired, placing her chin on your shoulder. “Looks cute on ya,” she quickly added with a giggle. The smell was unfamiliarly familiar. It didn’t smell quite like you, but it was familiar somehow. Sasha didn’t even hear whatever you said, too caught up in trying to figure out the smell and fighting off the slow death of hunger.
“So,” Connie asked, trying to keep his voice down, “where were you?” He leaned on his elbow, resting against the counter as he ate an apple. “Ya never answered Sasha earlier. Almost like you’re hidin’ somethin’. Bet it’s the same place you got that shirt.”
You looked up from the pancakes in the skillet in annoyance, “drop it, idiot.” You flipped the pancake over, “or I won’t make you any breakfast.”
“Ouch,” Connie groaned, “someone’s touchy.” Connie finished off the apple with an obnoxious amount of crunches. “Is it a, oh I dunno, a boy?” Connie asked louder than necessary, with a smug smile on his face.
“A boy,” Sasha squeaked as she clambered off the couch to her feet. She clumsily ran across the room, bumping into Connie, “which one? Greek God? Oo, we’re talkin’ bout him, aren’t we? What’s his name,” she smacked Connie’s arm as she thought aloud.
“Ethan? Nah, Eren- wait, no, that’s definitely not it, ignore that. Ugh, come Y/n give us a hint,” Connie groaned.
You shook your head softly with a laugh, “you two really do share a brain cell.”
“Erwin! It’s Erwin, isn’t it,” Sasha smiled smugly as she noticed you tense up momentarily. “Weird name. Kinda like Eren, but it’s like his parents said make it fancy y’know. Wait! You-.” The pieces were slowly sliding into place for her, “you didn’t!”
“Didn’t what?” Connie asked with a confused yet blank expression on his face.
“I didn’t,” you argued timidly as you turned off the stove, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.
“Hey, Erwin,” Sasha squealed, making your head whip around in her direction. She smiled deviously at you with your phone pressed to her ear.
“Connie- I, er, I’m going to kill you both,” you growled, running over towards her.
“What did I even do?” Connie whined, his eyes wide with fear.
“So, not to be nosy or anything? But like, did you two do the deed last night?” Sasha giggled childishly as she ran from you, dodging around the furniture towards the front door. “Hm? Oh, yeah, ’m Sasha, Y/n’s friend. Pretty sure we met before- yeah, exactly!” She carried on the conversation as if it were nothing, dodging your attempts to snatch the phone from her with ease. “Wait- hey!”
“Hey, bab- er, Smith,” you cooed embarrassedly into the phone, turning away from the pair of idiots so they couldn’t see the goofy grin on your face. “What’s up?” Every inch of you was buzzing with child-like excitement, so much that you could hardly contain it. You absentmindedly twirled your hair around your finger.
Erwin leaned back in his chair with the phone casually pressed to his ear. Just the sound of your voice filled his stomach with uncontrollable butterflies that fueled his giddy excitement. “Hi, Darling,” Erwin said in a honeyed, husky voice, quietly praying to himself that you couldn’t hear the waver in his voice. “I, uh,” he chuckled shyly, “well, I forgot to bring a lunch and…” He trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. He felt so childish calling you like this.
You glanced over your shoulder, keenly aware of the pair trying to discreetly listen in while eating the breakfast you cooked. You lowered your voice, just enough so they hopefully couldn’t hear. “Maybe if ya spent less time flirting this mornin’,” you jabbed teasingly. “Anything special in mind?”
Erwin bit his lip, “surprise me.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“At least tell me what kind? Asian? Italian? Fried?”
Erwin laughed heartily, “I promise I’m fine with anything. Just bring something you like, alright?”
You rolled your eyes, “bye, Erwin. Be there in an hour or so.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
You quickly hung up with a flustered huff, tossing your phone onto the couch. You hated and loved how much his words affected you—three simple words. Three words, and here you were heart racing in your chest like a horse in the Kentucky Derby.
“Aren’t y’all cute,” Sasha was the first to break the silence, her mouth stuffed with an inhuman bite of pancake. “So who asked who?”
“Didn’t think either of ya had the guts,” Connie mumbled into his cup of orange juice.
“Wait, huh?” You stared at Connie and Sasha with a puzzled expression. “What’re y’all…?”
Connie sighed heavily, shaking his head with a pitying frown on his face. “And here I was, thinking you were the brains of this group.”
“Because I am,” you cut him off.
“She’s referring to you and Erwinie dating,” he continued as if you never said anything. “Unless,” he pointed his fork at you and raised his eyebrows dramatically, “this was a hit it and quit it.”
“No!” You bit your lips, desperate to pull back the outburst and act calm. “I mean, uh, it wasn’t a one-night stand… but we also, well uh, haven’t made anything official. I dunno, just feels implied, y’know.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, go be a good girlfriend who’s not actually his girlfriend,” Connie teased you as you grabbed your car keys and headed towards the door.
“Food’s the best way to a man’s heart,” Sasha called out, “even if he’s old! You should get him somethin’ to eat.”
“He ain’t even-.”
“And make sure one of you has the balls to actually make it official,” Connie shouted over you.
“Wait- I,” you groaned and shook your head, letting your argument die out. “Gee, thanks, mom and dad,” your voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Anytime, sweetheart. Oh, and make sure he brings you back in time for movie night.”
“And no funny business.”
They continued to shout out parent-like advice and warnings as you left your apartment, their muffled voices still heard through the closed door. As much of a headache as they were, you adored their support. With them in your corner, you knew you could overcome anything, even the jitters forming at the thought of actually asking Erwin to make it official.
82 notes · View notes
aster-aspera · 3 years ago
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One place to fall
@badthingshappenbingo
Prompt: Can’t go home
Relationship: Jon/Martin/Tim/Sasha
Warnings: food, Jon just generally being a bit sad? Idk, if there’s something you want tagged, feel free to tell me
Masterlist
If you liked it, please reblog
Jon woke up that morning with a strangled gasp, the afterimage of his dreams still burned into the back of his eyelids, keeping him from falling back to sleep. He rolled over, expecting to find the comforting warmth of one of his partners to keep him company in the lonely hours of an early day. Instead, what greeted him was the cold grey wall of Georgie’s guest room. It didn’t take long after that for the memories to flow back.
Three days. He really should stop expecting them to be here at this point.
They’re not here, they can’t be here, and he can’t go home, not for a long while, not till the police stop suspecting him for a murder he didn’t commit.
He sighed, rolling over onto his back when aches started running up his side. He stared up at the off-white popcorn ceiling, trying not to think of how Tim was probably sprawled out over Martin and Sasha, stealing most of the blankets and driving his sharp elbows into their sides. He tried not to miss Sasha’s warmth against his side and the sound of Martin’s soft snores. He always used to complain about their sleeping arrangements, but now he would do anything to be back in that bed.
He groaned and rolled over a few more times, trying in vain to find a position that was comfortable enough to attempt sleep again, not that that would go very well, with the nightmares plaguing him as soon as he closed his eyes.
Eventually, he conceded and got out of bed, grabbing his cane from the wall and taking a moment to work the stiffness out of his limbs. He limped into the kitchen and smiled at the Admiral when he raised his head sleepily. He wondered if he could convince the others to get a cat when he got home. If he ever got home.
The smile slipped off his face and he turned to open the curtains, letting in the greyish light of an early dawn. The Admiral mewled plaintively at his feet, pushing against him. He bent down carefully to run his fingers along the cat’s back, closing his eyes for a moment and just letting the feeling ground him.
He straightened and made his way over to the cramped kitchen, intent on making himself a small breakfast to keep him company whilst he waited for the world to wake up. He reached towards the cabinet over the sink, and for a moment expected their mismatched collection of mugs with ridiculous quotes and terrible puns. He shouldn’t have felt the disappointment he did when instead it was just a shelf of plain white cups.
He shut the cabinet door a little more forcefully than strictly necessary, breathing deeply against the sudden swell of emotion in his throat.
In the scope of all that had happened to him, this should have been minor, this should have been fine. It was just Georgie, the person he had used to love, the person he still cared for. And his partners were really just a phone call away.
So why then, did it feel like he was breaking? Why did every little reminder this wasn’t his home tear something apart deep in his gut?
Home had always been his safety net, and now, he had nowhere to fall.
And now he just had to sit here, stare at the blank walls and hope the police would finally realise he hadn’t been the one to kill jurgen Leitner. Every day that hope felt a bit further away.
He opened the group chat he shared with the others. There were no new messages, of course not, none of them were awake yet. Six am was a bit early even for Tim. He scrolled back to their conversation from last night.
A picture of Tim grinning into the camera while a pot bubbles over behind him.
Sasha: Tim’s cooking tonight, send help
Martin: If the house burns down or he poisons us, I want you to know I love you
Jon: I’m sure it won’t come to that.
He scrolls back down to the bottom of the chat, a small smile on his face at the easy conversation of last night. It wasn’t the same as being there with them, but it was a small comfort.
The three dots that signalled someone was typing popped up on his screen and he noted with surprise Sasha was already online.
Sasha: Youre up early
Jon: I could say the same for you.
Sasha: Needed to pee
Jon: Yes, I suppose that makes sense.
Sasha: So what’s your excuse
Jon: My back hurts again.
Sasha: :(
Sasha: And is that the only reason?
Jon: No
Jon: I miss you.
Sasha: Darling
Jon: I’m alright, I just wish I could see you
Jon: In person that is.
Sasha: We could come over?
Jon: I don’t think that’s wise.
Sasha: Yeah, i guess
Sasha: We miss you too
A swarm of emotions bubbled up in Jon’s throat at the words, threatening to spill over in a mess of heartache and sorrow and fear. They press against the bounds of his throat, choking him, filling him with so many feelings he could not even begin to parse them out. He just wanted to go home.
He swallows it down, tucks the whole mess into a corner of his mind and puts down his phone. He doesn’t want to bother Sasha, or any of the others. He’s already put so much on them, dragged them into the fear and confusion that was the archives, he had no right to bother them with more.
And he knew he was just being dramatic, he was a grown man, he should be able to handle being away from home for a while. He just needed to get himself together, focus on the next step.
He picked up a stack of statements from the coffee table, slipping on his glasses and burying himself in the comforting rhythm of paper and pen. At least this was something he still controlled, still knew how to do.
Georgie appeared at some point, giving him a disapproving glance to find him working so early and coraling him into eating breakfast with her. She can’t stay long after that, and both Jon and the Admiral watch her leave with the same forlorn air.
Jon looked up from his work as a heavy knock resounded from the front door. His first thought was that it was Georgie, back from her errands early. But she would just have let herself in, and Jon knew for certain she had her key with her when she left.
And who did that leave? The police? Some avatar coming to settle a score? Gertrude's killer finally come to finish the job?
Every option was bad, and every option would not let a flimsy door stop them. He stood up, walked into the kitchen as calmly as he could with dread and paranoia hanging over him like a dark cloud and grabbed the largest knife he could find. The knock came again, and he could hear indistinct whispering from behind the door.
Multiple people then. That wasn’t good for his chances. He gripped the knife just a little bit tighter.
“Hey boss, open up,” came a familiar voice, one he used to hear rough and sleepy in the mornings and soft and loving in the evenings. His heart brightened in a momentary thrill at the thought of his partners, or at least, one of them, being on the other side of that door, so close to him again after all those days without them. And all he had to do was open up that door and pull them into his arms once more.
That thrill was almost immediately dampened again as he realized they should not be here. It was why he had left in the first place. They were too connected to him, too wrapped up in his messy web of conspiracy and paranoia. If the police saw them here, if Elias saw them here, they would be leading all of it right to Georgie’s doorstep.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” He told the door and tried not to think of the warm hands behind it.
“We’re not supposed to do a lot of things,” Came Sasha’s amused voice.
“Like date each other,” Tim filled in, “But here we are, so you going to let us in now?”
“No, the police could find out, and you might get Georgie in trouble and there’s just so many reasons this is a bad idea.”
“Jon please, we’re worried about you, Georgie said you weren’t doing well,” Martin said softly
Jon sat down on the couch heavily, knees protesting from standing up too long. He stared at the door.
“And standing out here is probably a lot more risky than being in the apartment, so best let us in.”
He sighed. You never could argue with Sasha’s logic. The others looked up victoriously when he finally unlocked the door.
“There he is!” Tim crowed, as Sasha and Martin offered him a warm smile while bustling into the apartment, both laden with grocery bags. Sasha pressed a light kiss to his forehead as she passed and he tried not to start crying at the feeling.
“You have to leave,” He said as he shut the door, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Martin and Sasha didn’t look up from where they were unloading piles of vegetables and snacks from their bags.
“What? No, hey guys, I missed you, happy to see you all?” Tim complained as he draped himself over Jon’s back. Jon scowled at him.
“Jon, stop being stubborn, we’ve all been through hell the past few weeks, and right now we just want to be here to keep you company,” Martin said in that firm yet gentle voice of his.
“You really shouldn’t be alone after all that,” Sasha said as she dumped out a tupperware container into a pot.
“I’m not alone,” Jon said grumpily, “I have the Admiral.” Though he had apparently decided to make himself scarce for the time being. Jon cursed him for the betrayal.
“Are you saying you prefer the company of a cat to ours?” Tim asked, pulling them both back onto the couch and settling a blanket over them.
“Maybe,” Jon pouted, burrowing into Tim’s chest despite the fact that he was still upset with them, “He doesn’t uselessly endanger everyone to come give me cuddles.”
“Well we’re here now, and we’re not leaving till you feel better.”
“And admit it, you’re happy we’re here,” Martin said, apparently finishing up with his preparations in the kitchen and curling up next to Jon on the couch.
Jon did not want to admit it, but something warm and content curled up in his stomach, the warm feeling of home returning to his bones. A warm and savoury smell drifted through the room, clearly coming from whatever Sasha was warming up on the stove.
This apartement did not look like home in the slightest, the walls and ceiling all wrong, the furniture hard and uncomfortable and unfamiliar. But with all of them here, and that familiar smell of soup and Tim’s conditioner surrounding him, it wasn’t all that bad.
Sasha sat down on his other side, handing everyone a bowl of soup and giving Jon a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Martin pressed one to his temple and Tim just ruffled his hair fondly.
A few words were exchanged between them, but Jon didn’t bother paying too much attention. He knew he should still be angry, or at least have a firm conversation with them on what they had agreed on. But not now, not when they were here and he was home and for a moment he could forget all about Leitner and the institute and just be safe.
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