#sailor’s drabbles

[sixpennydame]

Hands on You

Levi x g/n!Reader

Content: Pure fluff

A/N : Based on a true story..(I swear I have the strangest encounters irl) 😉

——

Levi stood awkwardly next to your desk just…quietly looming. Since you had been promoted to Squad Leader a year ago, Levi had become a good friend and you were used to his quirks. But this behavior was strange even for him.

You look up from your paperwork. “What’s on your mind, Levi?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, then, “...I need to ask you something. It’s gonna sound dumb.”

“Ok..”

“You can say no if you want.”

“O…K…” You’re getting nervous now.

“With this fucking cast on my arm, I can’t clip my fingernails. Can you…” he struggles to say the next words, “help me?”

Two days ago, Levi broke his arm in two places while killing an abnormal during a mission. Levi had insisted that he was fine and that it would heal quickly, despite the arm bending in an extremely unnatural manner. It took Erwin ordering him to go to the med clinic to get it set and then casted. And he’s been in a bad mood about it ever since.

“You want me to clip your fingernails?” You needed to repeat it again just to make sense of the request.

He raises his arm, which is in a full cast from the top of his forearm to his thumb. “It’s my dominant hand. I can’t use the damn clippers myself.”

“And you’re asking me. I’m honored,” you tease.

“What? You think I’m going to ask Hange? They can barely even take care of their own hygiene. I…trust you.”

You smile. You actually are honored. “Yeah, I’ll do it. You got the clippers?”

He hands them over to you and drags a chair next to you. You’ve never been this close to him before and for some reason, you’re suddenly nervous. You take his uninjured hand in yours. His fingers are long and delicate, and you notice that his hand is really soft. You feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Why is your hand so sweaty?” He remarks.

“I…”

You’re asking yourself the same question. He’s rolled up his shirt sleeves and you gaze at his muscular forearms.

“I just don’t want to mess up. I know how finicky you are.”

It’s not like you’re going to tell him that you find his hands and arms suddenly very, very attractive.

You take each finger in your hand and delicately clip each nail. Then you file them so that they’re rounded and smooth. It’s quiet - all you can hear is his breathing.

“How’s that?” You look up and discover that his face is so close to yours. You really hope you’ve stopped blushing.

He checks each finger meticulously. “Not bad.”

Knowing that is as much of a compliment as you’re going to get, you move to the other, injured hand, and hold it as if it’s the most precious thing.

“I’m not going to break,” he comments, when he sees how lightly you’re touching the hand. “It’s already broken.”

You look up at him and see a slight smirk form across his lips. It breaks the tension, and you both talk casually as you finish up.

“Thanks..I appreciate it,” he says as he leaves.

One week later and he’s back in your office. He puts the clippers on your desk.

“Already? They can’t be that long.”

“I like my nails a certain way,” he replies matter-of-factly as he drags a chair over to you, “and you do a really good job.”

This time, when you take his hand in yours, it’s his hand that is sweaty. Your heart starts to beat a little faster.

It does feel intimate, being this close and doing something like this for him. Almost as if you were lovers.

This time, you take a little longer with each finger, and hold his hand a little longer. He doesn’t object.

You really hope this cast doesn’t come off any time soon.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

baby sweet baby

Eddie thinks he's died and gone to purgatory, that the universe has decided the consequences of his life, between the "satanism" and the little good deeds he tried to keep up, it was all too balanced. Which means he needs to both suffer and prosper at the same time.

"Shh, shh, you're okay," Steve coos and Eddie's cheeks warm, no, burn at the gentle tone as he stares up at Steve. "There you go, that's it."

"She's settling nicely with you," Claudia says cheerfully as she steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands with a rag. She smiles and coos at the baby in Steve's arms. "Looks like all that time babysitting was useful."

Grinning, Steve nudges his nose into the baby's cheek and laughs as she squeals delightedly.

Eddie squeaks.

"All good, Eds?" Steve turns in place, looking down at Eddie with a bright grin warming his cheeks and a spark lighting his eyes. Eddie squeaks and nods, because what is he supposed to do when that smile faces him? "Oh, you like Eds, don't you, Rosie? You wanna touch his hair?"

"Watch it, Stevie," Eddie manages to cough out, blinking at the baby that's now being held out towards him. "Oh, hello, you're in my arms now."

With another laugh, Steve settles right next to Eddie on the couch, their thighs pressed together, shoulders brushing, as he lightly holds Rosie's little baby hand between his thumb and forefinger. His voice is low and sweet, face right in front of Eddie's, and he occasionally glances up at Eddie to laugh softly.

"What'd you think, Rosie? Is Eddie more comfortable than me?"

Rosie gurgles, patting at Steve's face with reckless abandon, making him laugh even sweeter, making Eddie's blood burn with the overwhelming sensation of want, hold, kiss and he's sure it's written all over his face. He's sure anyone can see how smitten he is over Steve Harrington talking to a lil' baby from a mile away.

"That's a no, then."

"I think you're more comfortable," Eddie blurts out and barely stops himself from letting go of Rosie to slap himself.

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve grins and then he presses his lips to Eddie's cheek, all soft and sweet and pretty and lovely and - "I think you're pretty comfortable too."

[arcane-vagabond]

Dad Jake when he finds out his oldest daughter eloped with Rooster's son.

Oh my god, STOP 😩 A follow up to this.

Warnings: None

"I'm gonna kill'em."

You rolled your eyes as your husband paced back and forth in the living room.

"You are being entirely too calm about this whole situation," he scowled, pausing just long enough to point an accusatory finger at you. You shrugged your shoulders, letting out a heavy sigh.

"What's done is done. It's not like we can change it now."

"Darlin'," he grounded out. "She ran off and got married."

"I'm well aware, Jake," you gritted. "But, again, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

You heard the sound of a car pull into the driveway, and you fixed your husband with a glare. "Well, you don't. Now play nice, or so help me Seresin, you won't like what I'm going to do."

Jake held his hands up in surrender as you heard the front door open. Moments later, your daughter walks into the living room with a nervous look on his face, pulling a handsome man behind her. He looked just like his father.

"Mama, Daddy," your daughter began.

"You got married?" Jake all but shrieked, cutting your daughter off. "Are you pregnant?"

"What? No!" your daughter cried out, the young man behind her paling at the accusation. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, sweetheart, I can't think of any other reason as to why you would run off and get hitched with a Bradshaw," he snapped.

"Jake," you sighed as your daughter held back tears. You looked at the two before you. "Do you love each other?"

"Yes," your daughter choked out.

"More than anything," the young Bradshaw said, looking at your daughter adoringly. You nodded.

"Then that's that."

Jake spluttered, face turning red. "You can't be serious?"

"Honey, your blood pressure," you began, but Jake ignored you, turning back to look at the younger man. "How does your father feel about all of this?"

The young man rubbed the back of his neck nervously, seeming to choose his next words carefully. "Said I could do a lot worse as far as Seresins go."

"That sonofa-"

"Jake."

[alliumdykes]

cBeeduo hurt/comfort drabble

Many mornings Tubbo would wake up and the scars would hurt. He would put on a brave face to pretend he was alright, that the nightmares weren’t fresh and the pain wasn’t as bad as that day.

But no matter what he did, Ranboo would notice.

They would pull Tubbo close, lighting touching his scars. He’d give light kisses on his unharmed side, careful not to hurt him. Sometimes he just sat there, many times he would return the kisses.

[daikon1]

Like I Like My Coffee

In a scalding heatwave, for once Usagi has something to teach Mamoru.

My contribution for @usamamoweek 2024!

[the-badger-mole]

Number 1 with Rei/Jadeite please

"Come over here and make me.”

Jadeite smiled when he saw his girlfriend’s number light up his phone.

“This is the dumbest mistake I’ve ever made!” Rei said before he said hello. “What made me think law school was a good idea?”

“You like arguing with people,” Jadeite chuckled. “You’re a very confrontational person.”

“I’m not confrontational!” Rei growled.

“I’ve been on the receiving end of your ire,” he said. “Try not to set the desk on fire during your exam.”

“…whatever.”

“Speaking of exams, shouldn’t you be studying?”

“I’m taking a break.”

“Go study!”

“Well, why don’t you come over here and make me.”

“…woof!”

[urheadcanongirl]

Rules and Q&A

I'm very strict about no minors - if you are underage or "ageless", I likely won't answer your ask at all and if I do, it will be strictly SFW.

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I prefer headcanons, but feel free to request drabble or send an ask/message from your OC to be answered! ❤️

I will not answer NSFW asks sent on anon.

What fandoms/characters can I request? Are there any you absolutely WILL NOT write?

📌GAMES

Obey Me!

Lucifer

Mammon

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

Leviathan

Diavolo

Luke

Simeon

Love & Deep Space (LaDS)

Caleb

Sylus

Zayne

Xavier

Rafayel

Final Fantasy

Cloud Strife

Aerith Gainsborough

📌ANIME

Naruto Shippuden

Naruto Uzumaki

Sakura Haruno

Kiba Inuzuka

Sasuke Uchiha

Kakashi Hatake

Menma (OOC take)

Madara Uchiha

Ino Yamanaka (Shippuden or RTN)

Rock Lee

Itachi Uchiha

Deidara

Pein

Hidan

"Tobi"

Obito Uchiha (AU take)

Hinata Hyuuga

Sailor Moon

Usagi/Sailor Moon

Rei/Sailor Mars

Inuyasha

Inuyasha

Kagome Higurashi

Sesshomaru

Kikyo

📌TELEVISION

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Crowley

X Files

Dana Scully

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Buffy Summers

Spike/William

Angel

Please feel free to ask if you don't see a fandom/character you're interested in! This list is incomplete at this time!

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You bet I do! If you're interested in writing with me in this regard, please let me know. You can DM me for this. 😊 As most people won't be looking for this, I won't list them here.

Are there "taboo" topics for you?

Mostly the obvious - I will not write inappropriate content that involves minors in any way. I don't typically write gore either, but this is not "taboo" per se. I'm pretty open about sensitive topics so... As in my header, anything that might be sensitive or a trigger will be tagged as such. Please block my UHCGtw and/or UHCGexplicit tag if you do not wish to see this content.

You haven't answered my ask! What's up with that?

I'm a human (unfortunately). Sometimes a prompt will be difficult for me to brainstorm or I will be uncomfortable answering it. Sometimes I'm just lazy or living life. If you do not receive a reply, please do not DM me, but feel free to resend the ask in case it was missed.

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Absolutely you can!

Please note however that there may be inaccuracies or variances as I, myself, am a cisgender, bisexual female with male preferences. I'm happy to write something outside of this (i.e. homosexual, transgender specific, male!MC etc.) but I lack these experiences in my personal life—so please be kind. I will do my best! 😊

*** This post is a WIP and will be updated accordingly! ***

[gripefroot]

something from your favorite sailor moon pairing?

“Show me what it’s like.”

Jupiter’s abrupt demand drew Nephrite’s attention away from the rocks he was skipping across the crystal surface of the lake. Another day, another tryst between their leiges - another afternoon spent alone in the shade of willow trees as swans made scarce currents in the sparkling azure water. 

“What what is like?” he asked, and threw another rock - it skipped six times, and sank. 

“Those things...that Princess Serenity and your prince do,” she said. And the others, she thought, still tangled up from seeing Venus and Kunzite pressed against the castle wall several days before. Her friend’s flushed face, the low growling coming from Kunzite...Jupiter had rushed away before they saw her, but the craving it instilled in her. It was agony. 

Nephrite’s mouth was drawn in a thin line as he turned to stare back at the lake. Tossing a stone in his hand, and catching it. “Staring at each other?” His voice was dry. “Making feeble declarations of love?”

“Kissing,” Jupiter said bluntly. 

His head whipped towards her, brunette locks dragging against his cape, fringe threatening to fall in front of his eyes. Those brown eyes - the ones she dreamed of when the sky was dark and stars glittered and she tangled in her lonely bed in Silver Millenium - widened as he blinked in a flurry. “You want me to show you what kissing is like?” 

“Yes.” 

Rock clenched in hand, Nephrite ran his opposite hand through his hair, mussing the strands as he blew out a breath. Perched on a boulder with her bare feet tickling the surface of the water, Jupiter merely waited. 

“You’ve never been kissed?” he asked. Hedging a real answer, but her brashness did that to people. Stunned them, as Nephrite was stunned now. He just needed a moment, so she’d give it. 

“No,” she told him. “And don’t bother pretending like you don’t know how - I’ve heard enough rumors about you to know that would be a lie.” She plastered a winning smile as Nephrite blinked again as if struck in the face. 

“Rumors,” he repeated. 

Jupiter shrugged. “You’re the favorite of the prince’s guard. You’re a popular topic of conversation amongst his people.” 

He didn’t look at her. Squinting towards the swans, as if those violent, smelly birds were safer to give his attention to than her. She straightened on the boulder, flicking water into the air with her toes. 

“I would’ve thought a princess as pretty as you would’ve been kissed before,” Nephrite said in an even voice at last. 

She shrugged again. “I’m too tall.” 

He cast her a disapproving glance. “Any man who would think that is a terrible excuse of masculinity.” 

“I don’t want other men to kiss me,” Jupiter said. “I want you to kiss me.” 

She watched his throat bob in a swallow. And then another. His poor hand - white-knuckled in a fist - could be cut by that rock he was holding. Her eyes flickered there, and then back to his face expectantly. 

“You can refuse,” she said. “I’ll find someone else.” 

“I’m not refusing.” Nephrite’s response cracked sharper than a whip. Sharper than lightning. Dark brows drawing together, pinched on the cusp of some indecision. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. And then with pain lacing his voice, “You only want me to show you what kissing is like? That’s all?” 

Jupiter tilted her head to the side, hair spilling over her shoulder as she stared at his face. The emotion that raged there. I want you to show me what all of it is like, she thought. What is it about men and what they do with women that turns us into such moon-eyed creatures? That softens the most battle-hardened men into sweet fluffballs? What does it feel like?

“I’m curious about all of it, really,” she decided to say, twirling a finger in a lock of her hair. Nephrite’s eyes narrowed in on the action, his shoulders tightening. “The flirting, the kissing - the...other things.”

“The - the other things.” His voice was a deep croak. 

“Sex,” Jupiter said helpfully.

“Right.” Nephrite cleared his throat. “I gathered that.” 

But still he didn’t answer. She wasn’t one to back down from asking for what she wanted, or even from a fight - not that she expected this man to indulge in the more chaotic emotions one could pick and choose from. But Jupiter frowned all the same, bracing the heels of her hands on the boulder as she drew her feet through the cool water, the sloshing of the movement the only noise that buffeted them apart from distant birdsong. 

After a few moments he unclenched his fist, adjusting his steps to send it careening for the lake - but it didn’t skip this time. A single deafening plop took it to a shallow grave, and Nephrite huffed in frustration. His bangs floated in front of his face for a moment before falling back. 

“Better luck next time,” Jupiter said. 

He glared. The meeting of their eyes was strung out between them like a thread pulled taut from each end. Her fingers clenched into the boulder, a deep shudder in the granite revealing too much of her strength. Breathing out, she loosened her grip and wove her fingers together in her lap, instead. 

“I’ll kiss you,” Nephrite said. 

“I shouldn’t have asked,” she mumbled back. A heated flush was working its way up her neck, now. Belated regret for her impulsivity. But was it impulsive if she’d thought about kissing him since the day they met? No. Asking him had been impulsive. And stupid. 

“I’m glad you did.” The gravel of the shoreline shifted under his boots as he walked towards her. Hands in his pockets. But too tense to be a true swagger, as capable as he was of it. “I’m...glad you thought of me. I can think of a hundred men I wouldn’t trust with something like...this.” 

Jupiter lifted a brow as he came to a stop a few feet away, a lopsided smile lifting one side of his mouth. 

“With you,” Nephrite clarified, as if he understood her unspoken question. “Come down from there. I don’t want to get my trousers dirty scrambling up to sit by you.” 

She grinned and swung her legs over the side to leap onto the shore. The rough sand dug into her bare feet, but she barely noticed - he was much closer now, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes shining with unfamiliar warmth as something in her soul sang in response. 

Stars, the twisting and roiling in her belly - 

“Let’s go to the shade,” he said, and offered a hand. “It’ll be more comfortable.” 

Jupiter found that she couldn’t really say anything. Only slide her gloved hand into his bare one, letting his strong fingers curl over hers with a strength that she’d felt from so few others. It turned her singing soul into a wailing one, mouth dry as he tugged her towards the trees with a grin. 

She was about to be kissed. By Nephrite. 

It was so easy to trust him. A human man. Was that strange? Was she as duped as Princess Serenity, falling in love with the green earth and its vitality of life? Her knees were shaking as she followed him, climbing up into the mossy undergrowth beneath the willows as he dropped her hand, and turned. 

Jupiter swallowed. That blazing look on his face. 

“Kissing is more than the simple meeting of lips,” Nephrite crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It’s how you respond. In here.” And he tapped where his heart beat with one long finger. “That’s what makes it...enjoyable.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything more clever to say. 

“It’s about the anticipation.” 

She was riveted as she watched - the tip of his tongue darting out from between his lips to wet them. They stayed parted, his breath sounding ragged all of a sudden as Jupiter realized that she was staring at his mouth - that her own heart was beating like thunder and her hands shook at her side. 

Nephrite took mercy on her. Grasping her shoulders, he gently steered her to the side, taking a step forward and forcing her to step back - until she was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, still staring up at him as he peered down at her. The gold flecks were gone, in the shade of the leaves: his eyes were all dark, endless, and promising. 

“Princess,” he breathed out - his scent washed warmly over her face, and she smelled mint and lemon. His fingers stayed gripping into her bare arms, though her skin hummed in pleasured response as they stroked towards her elbow. 

Jupiter’s eyes fluttered shut, just for a moment - just to feel his muscled body lined up with hers, parallel but not quite touching. Only where their hands were, leaving prints of heat where their skin touched. And then his hands dropped, and she nearly moaned in disappointment. 

“What are you waiting for?” Her question wasn’t as brusque and uncaring as she intended - it was feeble and wanting. 

“I’m waiting,” Nephrite said, his voice colored with amusement, “for you to strike me with lightning.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Jupiter said crossly. 

“No?” 

She opened her eyes, scowling up at him for hesitating - but his teeth were flashed in a white grin as his gaze darted upwards. 

“The sun is blotted out,” he remarked. “By clouds. Isn’t that your doing, Princess? There was nothing but blue as far as I could see when I escorted the prince this morning.” 

“I didn’t realize I was doing it,” she told him. And let out a long, slow breath - releasing the building power in her veins as she sagged against the tree. The pressure slackened, carrying away the threatening storm that responded to her emotions. 

“You’re so powerful.” 

The whisper caressed her cheek. He’d moved closer. Leaning in. Jupiter stared at him, but his eyes were lowered to watch her mouth. A whine from the bark indicated that he’d planted one hand above her head, as if to keep himself upright. His other hand, however...lifted to her chin, pinching it gently between his thumb and index fingers. Tugging down, he parted her lips as he gave a sultry smile, warm as the dappled sun that played between the leaves now that she’d cast the clouds away. 

Even the minty taste of his breath was enough to tie her insides in tangles and snarls. Jupiter reached behind her to hold onto the tree as well, her fingertips cracking the bark as she sagged slightly. Nephrite leaned down further, still staring at her mouth. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you,” he murmured. “Wanted to know whether you taste as wild as you look. As you smell.” 

“What do you think I’ll taste like?” Jupiter was bold enough to ask, her own voice barely above a whisper. 

Nephrite breathed in, finally lifting his gaze to devour her. Such pools of heat, molton brown that swept over her like a rush of rain - “Like a salty sea squall that sends ships to a watery grave,” he said, the pad of his thumb tracing over her bottom lip as she moaned aloud, unable to restrain herself from releasing that one sliver of tension. “Gusts of rain over a field of wheat. Blustering, freezing wind on a dark winter morning. The burning crack of a lightning strike that sizzles in summer heat.” 

“I didn’t know you were a poet,” she managed to say in a hoarse voice, but his responding chuckle was so deep, so dark that she almost wished she hadn’t heard it. 

It was the kind of knowing laugh that would drag her through black space and endless stars on an eternal journey; desperate, howling - 

She couldn’t wait. She didn’t care that it was about the anticipation. Not when her own storm was untangling the entirety of her guts to burn her alive from her core - 

Jupiter seized his face between her hands, and dragged him down. 

Nephrite gave a muffled bleat, and then a groan as his lips slacked against hers. The warm flesh was such a combination of mint and lemon and man and musk that she never wanted to taste anything else again - and then his arm was around her waist, dragging her closer to his body as he bore down on her. 

“Let me in,” he growled, and in surprise her lips parted - his tongue plunged between them, drinking up her gasp of astonishment, and then pleasure as he groaned into her as if he never wanted to taste anything else, either. 

She tangled her fingers in his loose hair without meaning to. But the silken waves were a sour reminder that the world existed outside of their mouths. Stars, she could kiss him forever - was this what had seduced Princess Serenity so easily? And Venus - her warrior friend that had softened into a true goddess of love whenever she plucked silver hairs from her clothes with a sappy smile on her face? 

“Jupiter,” Nephrite groaned, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, of his ragged breathing pressed against her - his thighs like trunks of birch around hers, his hand trailing down…

He grasped her backside with another groan, another sweep of his tongue inside her mouth, and Jupiter might have died right then and there if immortality wasn’t as much part of her as her bones and blood and the wind and rain. 

“I like kissing,” she panted into his mouth, swallowing his breathy chuckle as he pulled away. But only enough to lean his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. He released her backside, a twinge of regret in the lines of his face. Normally so composed, so calm...Jupiter recognized the signs of wild turbulence inside of him. 

“That was a little more than normal kissing,” Nephrite admitted. His nose nuzzled alongside hers, his breath still blooming over her face. “I got...carried away.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

Her arms still draped over his shoulders, Jupiter hummed to herself, letting the pleasure settle into her skin like a tattoo. Permanent. Neverending. She twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, tugging slightly.

“You taste like ash and light.” His voice was guttural, deeper than ever. And he littered tender, soft kisses around her mouth, utterly delicious and distracting. “I think you did strike me with lightning, princess. You’ve left me a shell of a man.” 

“Kiss me again,” Jupiter dared, and saw only a flash of his grin before he obeyed. 

This time the tips of his fingers skating along the bare skin above her knee. Tendrils of wicked warmth sunk beneath her skin from his touch, worming their way upward as she gasped, clenching onto the collar of his cape as she trembled like earth at an onslaught of thunder from above. 

“Do you like that?” Nephrite positively purred into her ear, sending shivering heat down her damp neck. She was sweating - not just from the oppressive summer heat. 

“Yes,” she breathed. “I do.” 

Higher his fingers explored, tracing circles on her bare flesh, closer and closer to where the fire inside her continued to burn. The flames licking higher with each pass he made, aching when his hand sank back down. 

“Am I a good teacher, then?”

He was smirking. Any other human at any other time would flare up her rage with such an expression, but Nephrite...Jupiter would let him eat her alive and beg for more with her last breath. Her heart was thudding so loud she could hear her blood in her ears. Like she’d been drawn beneath the surface of the lake and drowning was imminent, but she welcomed the release - 

“Satisfactory,” Jupiter murmured, and another dark chuckle sank beneath her skin as his fingers traveled higher - 

- but still not touching where she ached. A moan slipped past her lips as he completed the circle pattern, back down towards her knee. 

“How does it feel, princess?” 

Was he doing this because he knew she was struggling to form words? Jupiter wet her lips with her tongue, watching his eyes darken as they drank in the sight of it. The only sign that he was as affected by this as she was. If she was going to drown, she wanted to take him with her. 

“Like hot, writhing snakes live in my belly,” she told him softly. Nephrite’s eyes flicked back up to hers, slightly widened as he traced another circle on the inside of her thigh. Not close enough. She gritted her teeth, shifting with her back against the trunk of the tree as she held his gaze. 

“Fascinating,” he whispered. Another circle. Nearer yet to her center, her burning core - a bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face. “Do you want me to stop, princess?”

“No,” Jupiter said. 

Nephrite’s smile was dangerous in all the right ways. Beckoning her further down a path she so desperately wanted to explore. This time his fingers draped along the inside of her thigh, moving up so agonizingly slow...and then he halted a breath away. 

“You smell intoxicating,” he said. “Like a field of flowers drenched in some spell. Have you cast a spell on me?”

“I can’t cast spells.” 

“What of your friend? The goddess of love?” 

Jupiter twitched in his hand, steadying her stance as she met his melting gaze. “Spells that mimic love are mockeries of it,” she told him. “Actual love - true love - is its own magic that cannot be manipulated.” 

Nephrite hummed. An earth-shaking note that shook her to the core, too. His eyes once more dropped to her mouth, as if memorizing the very shape of it...and then he withdrew his hand from her leg, smile widening as she whimpered, and then growled in frustration as he took a step back from her. Jupiter was left alone, pushing herself back into her regular stance with the tree to her back. 

“What was that?” she demanded. “Making me feel that way and then - and then not doing anything to ease it?” 

“This is part of the fun, princess,” Nephrite said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Perhaps to conceal that his hands were trembling - but nothing got past her warrior gaze. “Drawing out the chase. Leaving each other unsatisfied and wanting more.” He paused, eyes raking up and down her body in a sweep that had her trembling again, fists clenched at her side. “To make sure they come back,” he added quietly. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t have the sense to be alarmed. As she stood there, she wondered if the expression hidden beneath the smugness wasn’t something he meant to reveal. A touch of wistful tenderness, of aching sadness.

But for a goddess born into courage, Jupiter couldn’t bear to ask him why he was sad.

[buff-muffin]

This is a Drabble I wrote that was originally going to be the start of an actual fic where Mike meets Charlie’s ghost and the two recognised each other and start catching up and helping each other out in their similar goals. But I haven’t had time to really write in weeks and I know after the movie any motivation for this story is burning in the pits of hell. So instead take this:

A drabble based off Micheal Afton getting ready for a work interview after being scooped. So uhh yea, CW for. Um… Grossness and mentions/ suggestions to body horror :)

It was morning. It was piss-fuck early morning. The ancient, dented alarm beside his bed blared with a static screech, almost unfamiliar with how long it had been since he had needed to listen to its shitty morning song. Already, all Mike wanted was nothing more than to curl up back in bed, back into the soothing lulls of sleep where he could simultaneously forget and remember everything terrible about life. With drowsiness weighing his arms like led, he tried to shift ever so subtly to get comfortable, though all it did was drag his mind right back to reality and awareness of his body. The first thing he noticed was his skin, he quickly became conscious of how it was sagged, almost like it was melted and stuck against the soggy old, torn mattress he still hadn’t found time to replace. It wasn’t like he could feel the bumps and spikes of old rusted springs that snapped through the fabric. Not through the tingling numbness that plagued his own dead body. So it was on his… eventually to do list. He had all the time in the world after all.

With glaring awake-ness back into his body, he could do nothing but pull his flesh off the drying liquid that stained the fabric of his mattress and wake up. With a slight stretch and a disgustingly slow peel, he pried himself free and pushed his legs over the side of the bed. Only now, sitting with his back so badly hunched he might completely collapse, did Mike even open his eyes. There was no sleep to wipe away and no light to adjust to. He was just, awake, back in the world of the living once again. It was only when his brain caught up did he look over the shitty apartment space he called home.

It was a studio apartment bathed in darkness from the closed curtains. The living conditions of this run down place was the definition of unliveable, which made it perfect for him. There was a leak of some kind of liquid in the kitchen. He didn’t really have an actual roof as little bits of asbestos would rain down if ever his upstairs neighbour stomped too hard. There was mould in about every corner. A roach infestation and probably a termite one too. But rent was dirt cheap and the old fuck daring enough to sell this piece of shit didn’t care how dead he looked, as long as he paid rent.

It was a good deal. A good deal for someone who can't die of any of the health code violations going on in this place.

Finally shutting off his alarm that only seemed to get more distorted as it screamed, Mike let the reality of the day wash over him. Right, busy… busy… With a resolution about as strong as his endo supported spine, he finally pulled himself up and away from his resting place. Heh. He was in nothing but a pair of boxers despite the November weather, not like he needed to keep much warm after all. So with slow, lugged and lazy steps, he dragged his boneless corpse over the piles of dirty and stained clothes and across to the bathroom; the only other room of the house. What were all those clothes stained with? An orangey-browny sometimes greeny liquid that would leak out from his scars if he laid down too long. Whatever it was, it was also on his bed and a bitch to wash out. So really he planned on throwing them all away eventually too. It was also on his never-to-do list.

The bathroom was no better than the rest of the house, if anything, arguably worse. The walls were caked in black mould and the floor painted with even more laundry that made little mounds to walk on. Under the sink was completely ransacked for its chemicals, the shower curtains were brittle with age and mould. The whole place smelled like mildew and the humidity was so bad fish could breathe in here. Even the appliances inside hardly worked. The water pressure in the shower was so dog-shit it was enough to make God cry. And half the time his sink water would be brown, just cause. Even the counter was covered in junk. But at least the mirror still worked besides the slight permanent fog.

Mike didn’t bother closing the door, and looked himself in the mirror. Skin was still as gross as ever. Hairless, purple and a little bit saggy, maybe that was a normal sag? He liked to think it was a normal sag. Like old peoples faces just started drooping once they hit eighteen. Because that’s definitely how it worked. The fact he was an adult now is still a weird one to come to terms with. So much time had passed. So much time he hardly remembered… he hardly remembered…Enard- Staring into the reflection his dead white pupils blinked away thoughts as he was dragged back to reality, right… busy busy. No time to think about months of his life lost to being a flesh puppet. Waking up a little more, he bared his teeth at his reflection, looking over them with a dull exhausted interest. Yellow and stained but unchanged, one would have thought he might have lost them a long time ago but nope. In fact they weren’t even rotting anymore now that he didn’t eat. Score. His tongue on the other hand… Was looking a bit worse for wear. He was no mortician, he didn’t really know how to make it stop rotting, he would just have to hope he could still talk when it fell out.

His eyes were a different story, no longer did he have his fathers diluted blue irises that made him shiver looking in his own reflection. In fact he no longer had eyes at all. Instead his eye sockets were bathed in darkness, with little white dots deep inside that worked as his pupils. Yeah besides his organs they were quick to toss out his eyeballs to make sure they could see when using him like a living animatronic suit. It was a little freaky that he could stick his fingers in his eyes and feel around the sticky and dried flesh. He didn’t like to, but it was kinda cool in a fucked up sort of way. The idea made him want to vomit. And wanting to vomit reminded him that he didn’t have organs. And THAT reminded him of shitty things, so he usually didn’t poke around unless something got stuck in there.

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck. Interview. Ok, interview. Fuck-I gotta shower. Ok no it’s fine, I woke up early for this I’m still on time.” Trying to snap himself out of damp and depressing thoughts, he slapped his hands lightly on his hollowed cheeks and ignored the gross slapping sound that came from boneless fingers on sewn up skin. Reaching a hand past the slimy and brittle curtain he grabbed a knob and random and spun it a few times. The water dribbled and sputtered before finally coming out enough that he could actually fucking clean himself with.

It took a while believe it or not. Trying to shower without getting water in your stitches that are literally all over your body fucking sucks. Cause then he’d have to drain the water out of his empty body and if he’s unlucky have to do the stitches all over again. And the shitty patch work that covered his body spoke for itself that he can't sew for SHIT. The only upside was that he didn’t have any hair at all, he didn’t have to worry about shampoo or conditioner; just a light scratch to his skull did the job. The only things he actually needed to do was scrub off the remaining residue from his mattress that had plastered itself to his skin. Well, and wash away the smell of physical rot with nothing but a cheap body wash he bought just for today. Actually he bought some other things for this interview too.

Other things being, makeup.

Ok yeah-it sounds a little stupid, but when your skin is a beautiful shade of undead purple, and you're heading in for a work interview at a childrens’ entertainment establishment. The best you could do was just look a little living, ya know? So, once Mike was padded dry using the one clean towel he still had, he wrapped it around his waist and left the bathroom, retrieving the makeup he left out, along with the only nice outfit he bothered to keep clean. Bundling everything in his arms, he returned to the only mirror in his apartment and dumped all the supplies in the sink to get dressed first. His clothes were simple, and styled a little like a homeless man. A pair of long baggy jeans, the only pair that weren’t ripped intentionally or by a robot. A turtle neck that would do a good job of hiding some scars that decorated his freak of a neck, and a purple flannel he stole from his fathers leftover stuff. I mean was it really stealing if his mum was gonna sell ‘em anyways?

When he looked in the mirror it felt odd. He never did look right, no matter what he wore. But the fact his skin now matched his fathers obnoxious plum coloured clothes was enough to make him shiver. As uncomfortable as the flannel made him, it beats trying to thrift at three AM. The last details of his outfit was still stuffed in his pocket, a pair of mittens and an old grey beanie that had been with him through many winters. Thank fuck for the cold weather giving him and excuse to hide more of his corpse skin right?

When he was finally dressed and drowned in deodorant to mask the lingering scent of death, he turned back to the musky and foggy mirror staring down at the products still abandoned in the sink. Foundation, concealer, some weird palette thing that he spent ten bucks on, an egg sponge that was probably important, and one of those weird also kinda egg shaped brushes that seemingly every woman owned. He didn’t know jack-shit about makeup. He was a freshly twenty year old guy with a sister that went missing before she could become a teen and actually get good at this bullshit. And a mother who never had a chance to dress up. The most he was going off of was when Elizabeth would beg and cry to cake his face to look like a bootleg clown. But that was when they were both children.

Alright, makeup, he could do this. Basically like half the population wears this shit, can’t be too hard. Ok first, foundation? Or would concealer be first for him? He does need to conceal like… everything. Maybe if he layers foundation enough it will conceal all his issues? He could probably put concealer on next if needed. Using the sponge, he started smearing his face in what felt like skin colour paint. One layer made him look as if nothing changed. So he added some more, then more. And when he still looked a little bit… freaky, with a purple undertone he added concealer. And well… he didn’t look… terrible?

Well, he still looked like a clown, and his eyes were still glowing lights in pits of darkness and he was still bald as fuck. So like a horror clown from hell. But his cheeks looked less dead and he looked passable for a living human, if only just a little uncanny. His face looked as flat as a paper plate which probably didn’t help. Looking down at the palette thing he was sure he had wasted his money on, he could feel himself cringe. Not what he thought he would be using art class for, but at least it wasn’t a complete waste.

Using the brush, he shaded from jaw to cheek and along the sides of his nose. He even added little highlights just to seal the deal on the idea of being alive. He wasn’t going too over the top with this, it’s not like he was going out for a tea party or some shit. He just needed to look alive. All around, makeup took an hour and he ended with a presentable face and a new understanding of why the few girls he dated were always running late. It was satisfactory. So, deeming himself done, he washed off his hands and the sink that had been splattered in spilled concealer. Once all the shit was dry and his black towel was newly dawned with fresh skin coloured stains he finally walked out of the bathroom to the rest of his decomposing house.

Finally, he pulled on his tattered beanie and dug through the remains of his backpack. The thing was old, rotting and falling apart at the seams. A large stain still sat at the bottom from a particularly rotten apple from high school. But now it was filled with everything he would need for today. Definitely expired meds. A fake resume, that was basically fucking empty besides some good words from a volunteer place he had never actually worked at. Fake ID, for a Mr Jeremy Fitzgerald. Surprisingly, when he called the place, they didn’t have that many checks besides explaining that as long as you had a clean criminal record you would be fine to work.

A particular stain on that shiny old record of his rang in his head. There was no court problem besides other parents complaining about the trauma their children went through. But he was sixteen, and arguably had it worse at the time. So no real charges were pressed, just a note in case he became a deadbeat in the street or something. So they could tie it all back to the trauma of the biggest fuck up of his life and throw him behind bars anyways. But it’s fine, that wouldn’t matter. Jeremy Fitzgerald was a fresh out of high school teen looking for honest work between his studies. A blank slate he planned on tossing away once he got what he needed from this place.

Once he figured out what his father had planned.

With a new found resolve, and his double check done, Michael Afton pulled on his glasses and gloves and slugged his bag onto his back. He looked back to his bed and resisted the urge to collapse on it before he pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind him. Jeremy Fitzgerald had an interview for the nightshift at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. And he couldn’t miss this chance.

[selfspinninglies]

Whatever im just going to post it. Here is my kind of homoerotic poem adjacent thing that doesnt really make sense [or maybe it does. I dont know]

I love you how a knife loves the wounds

And how shattered glass loves the destruction

I can't tell you lest it falls into nothing

But I am dying

And I am bleeding

You are the knife

I am the glass

Bloody and broken

You can pick up the pieces

But all there is are cracks

Crush me through your fingers

We are bleeding

We are buried

I laugh because death shall not do us part

And you are so far away

We are nothing but concepts

And I will always hate you

Like a bandaid hates blood

Vaccine hate sickness

Because it is simple

And anything else will be meaningless

I will crawl into your grave

And steal your solace

Because this will be our closest

We will embrace

And kill eachother with our edges

But I will press close

For I love you

We are the same

I have never hated more passionately

[anonarat]

The door of the room opens, and Ami comes into the dark. Makoto is wrapped up in blankets, suffering from a nasty cold, headache included. Being considerate of this, Ami walks over quietly to her, and puts the mug of broth she made on the bedside table. Makoto manages a thin smile.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you’re having to take care of me.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, I’d do anything for you,” Ami replies, gently stroking Makoto’s forehead. The chill of her fingers helps to soothe away the pain, and Makoto relaxes into it, drifting off to sleep.

[sixpennydame]

Hey sailor

May I request prompt no. 16?

Thank you and I hope you are having a great day

Hi San,

I love it when you send me requests. Sorry this took so long but North Star was taking all of my energy. I hope you enjoy!

——

No. 16 “I want your attention”

Word Count: 342

C/W: Levi fluff

It happens every spring.

Levi’s compulsion to clean every little nook and cranny in the house. Baseboards are scrubbed, windows are washed, and wood floors are polished to an almost-mirror shine, among other things. For a good week, he focuses on nothing else.

Not even you.

Even in plain sight, it’s like you’re not there. You’re sitting on the sofa - he lifts your legs up so he can vacuum under them. You’re getting dressed in the bathroom, in only your underwear - he’s scrubbing the tiles in the shower.

“Levi…” you whine, “I want your attention..” You stand in front of him, pouting.

He stops and pulls down his bandana that’s covering his face. “You do, huh?” He moves closer and your heart starts racing. You lean in to kiss him and he holds up the duster, blocking his lips from yours. “You can get my attention by cleaning the cobwebs out of those corners there.”

“Seriously?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you grab the duster and get to work.

You know now…there’s only one way you’re going to get his attention.

He returns from work the next day to find the house completely spotless.

“What the-“

“Oh, you’re back! I was hoping to get all this done before you were home.” Covered in dust and grime, you’re wearing his apron and have your hair tied back. You’ve obviously been cleaning all day.

The furniture is polished and gleaming, rugs have been beaten and cleaned, there’s even fresh flowers on the dining table. Levi can’t believe his eyes.

“I even dusted all the books in the bookshelf and alphabetized them,” you say, a bit breathless. “Deep cleaning is hard work.”

He smirks. “Well if you wanted my attention, you’ve got it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more turned on than I do right now,” he says as he moves toward you and puts his hand on your hips.

“But you’re filthy. It’s time to get you clean now.” He picks you up bridal style and takes you to the bath.

——

Drunk Drabbles, Vol. 2

[sailing-through-hawkins]

okay i originally wrote this for the steddie microfic challenge but failed epically when i realized i was way over the word count 〒▽〒 still i really like this so i'm gonna tag @wynnyfryd and hope you enjoy it regardless! it's set around steve's senior year i'd say idk

So here's the thing.

Eddie knows he's not supposed to be at the pool after-hours for like, security or whatever but -

But sometimes you drop one of your lucky guitar picks while watching swim practice (respectfully of course) and only realize it halfway through your Hellfire session, which means after-hours sneaking in it is.

And he expected to have to double back and bring Frank along to pick the lock but the doors aren't even locked.

Is this a good idea, Eddie thinks, to wander unsuspectingly into an unlocked sports facility frequented by assholes who would probably half-drown someone if they thought it'd be funny?

No.

But Eddie's always been down for bad ideas.

He sneaks his way in, barely makes a sound, and is immediately shoved up against the wall by -

"Munson?"

Steve Harrington.

"What -" Eddie chokes, Harrington's arm making for a heavy pressure on his neck that is definitely cutting off his air supply. "Dude -"

Harrington blinks at him, any sliver of that predatory gaze melting away, before letting go and stepping back. "Oh, sorry. You okay?"

Bent over, hands on his knees, Eddie tries to catch his breath and stare up at Harrington as incredulously as he can at the same time.

"Sorry, stupid question, right." Harrington rubs the back of his neck with a wince and Eddie - realizes he's shirtless. And wet.

"Are you - are you seriously swimming right now?" He coughs out, straining to keep his eyes up above that jawline. "In the middle of winter?"

The guy just shrugs.

What the hell.

"Also," Eddie stands up straight, crossing his arms with a squint, doing his best to hide the shivers racking up his spine. Harrington's eyes catch on something behind him. "What the fuck was that, man? Your first instinct at getting caught under the bleachers is to fucking jump people?"

No response from the King, who apparently finds Eddie's hair more interesting than a damn conversation, considering how fucking unfocused his eyes are. Probably just wants to get back to whoever he's sucking face with, the dick.

"Whatever, man, just let me find my shit and I'll get out of -"

"Here," Harrington says, swiftly taking Eddie's hand, leaving him zero time to react, and pressing his guitar pick into his palm?! He pushes Eddie’s fingers to curl over the pick, patting the fist gently. "Try to stay out of here after school, Munson. Shit gets dangerous."

"Wha - how - what the fuck?" Eddie snatches his hand back. He stares.

The pool water reflects across Harrington's face, a blue glow that makes him look...otherworldly. Ethereal, even. Brown locks of hair turned damp, stuck to his skin, framing his face and curling around his eyes that look too dark for the evening light, barely distinct from the dilated pupils they hold. Water drips down his nose, fingers, chest, audibly splashing onto the wet pool floor, echoing out into the empty space.

"What..." Eddie hesitates, looking back up at those deep, void-like eyes. "What are you doing here, Harrington?"

The guy smiles, tilting his head at Eddie, eyes half-lidded. "Go home, Munson."

He steps closer to Eddie, leaning in, flooding the air with an acrid smell, some combination of chlorine and smoke. He stares at Eddie, giving a small nod and smiles again.

There's no light reflecting off his eyes, Eddie realizes before he steps back, keeps stepping until his back hits the exit door.

Harrington waves a hand, fingers bending up and down one by one. "Try to stay out of the dark."

The door shuts in Eddie's face and he runs.

[arcane-vagabond]

I love your writing, and saw your requests were open ! I’d love to request a AU of Jake Seresin where he’s a doctor and maybe his girlfriend gets brought in to the ER for something . Super fluffy 😍

Oh my god. Doctor!Jake is not something I knew I needed until this moment. Also thank you so much ily

Warnings: blood, language, overprotective Jake

Your head felt sticky where the blood had started to dry on your temple. You heaved a sigh as your best friend tapped away on her phone at your side.

"You still doing okay?" she asked, pausing long enough to look up at you. "The others keep blowing up my phone wondering."

"Yeah, I'm still fine," you grumbled. At that moment, the curtain cutting you off from the rest of the ER was pulled back to reveal a familiar face. He let out a low whistle at the sight of you, moving to grab the clipboard with your intake information.

"Damn, sweetheart," Bradley murmured, walking over to take your vitals. "You look like shit."

"Hi, Nurse Bradshaw," your best friend greeted, giving the man a coy smile. "How're you this fine evening?"

You rolled your eyes as Bradley chuckled and offered her a polite greeting.

"So," he chirped, turning back to look at you. "What happened?"

"Some drunken asshole wasn't paying attention to where he was going while we were at the beach and knocked me into a post by the parking lot. Hit my head pretty good," you said.

"I can see that," Bradley laughed lightly. "Well, let me go get a doctor to check you out."

"Bradley?" you called out after him. He turned back to look at you. "Don't tell Jake?"

Bradley gave you a look as if to say "no promises," but gave you a nod before closing the curtain. A few minutes pass before your curtain is opened again to reveal Dr. Natasha Trace.

"Damn, y/n," she winced, taking you in. "What the hell happened?"

You told her the same thing you told Bradley as she moves to start her examination. You hear a commotion coming from the nurse's desk before heavy footsteps stop in front of your section and the curtain is ripped back to reveal Dr. Jake Seresin standing before you. He rushed to your side, nearly knocking Natasha onto the ground in the process.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" he gasped, cupping your face gently.

"Oh, I just thought I'd come visit you at work," you joked, causing Jake to frown at you.

"Y/n," he said your name in a warning. You sighed, once again retelling what had happened to land you a trip to the ER.

"But I'm fine!" you added quickly, seeing Jake's eyes cloud with anger. Hesitantly, you turned to look at Natasha who had just finished her examination. "I am, right?"

She chuckled. "Looks like you might have a mild concussion and a minor scratch, but you appear to be fine."

"See?" you said brightly.

Jake's lips pursed. "I'm taking you home."

"Jake, no," you started. "Your shift's not over yet."

"Doesn't matter," he said firmly with a cross of his arms. "Someone needs to stay with you."

"I'll stay with her," your best friend chimed in, earning a scowl from your boyfriend.

"I'll be fine," you coaxed, running a hand up and down his arm in reassurance. "Besides, your job is important."

"You're important," he pouted. You smiled softly up at him.

"You only have a couple of hours left on your shift, and then you can come home and take care of me."

"Fine," he relented. "But I'm calling in tomorrow."

"Sounds just fine to me," you replied.

[alliumdykes]

cClingy hurt/comfort drabble

Tubbo led Tommy to one of the bathrooms, the one with the most space. The girl didn’t like taking a shower, when she tried she would be found sobbing and banging on the door to be let out. So instead she usually used the lake.

Tubbo let her in, allowing her to get undressed as he turned on the shower, putting his hand under while it was warming up before himself got undressed. When they both entered the shower he could see Tommy shaking, Tubbo held his hand out to allow her to hold.

He slowly started to wash her hair, doing his best to separate the curls and not damage them, repeating the same pattern he would do with Michaels hair. Tears started to build up in Tommy's eyes.

Tubbo finished helping her with her hair as quickly as he could before turning off the shower and throwing a towel at her, giving him a skwark in return.

[youre-ackermine]

Hi my love!! <3 <3

For Drunk Drabbles Vol. 2, I give you 23: Is this a date? Of course, give me a LeviHan story!

mwah!!

Hey Sailor my Beautiful Bestest Bestie 🥰❤️

Thank you so much for your request!!! I'm sorry I didn't reply earlier but I'm a [painfully] slow writer!

How was Seoul? You must be exhausted by the past week's work there, so I hope my little drabble will help you relax 😘

Enjoy ❤️❤️❤️

*****

English is not my usual language

*****

This drabble is linked to my previous Levihan drabble Dumbstruck.

Drabble prompt 23 "Is this a date?"

Night Out

Characters: Levi Ackerman / Hange Zoe / Moblit Berner

Wordcount: 1530 approx.

Modern AU / sfw / non-binary Hange / swearwords / mention of alcohol

She had been babbling for twenty minutes now, sipping her cocktail through a straw every once in a while. Not even bothering to reply, he was absentmindedly looking at her glass. It was still half filled with a sugary liquid of a disgusting shade of pink and he wondered how in hell people could ever order such revolting pig piss.

Levi lifted his cup with a sigh, took a sip of hot tea and checked his watch. He should have told her to shut the fuck up, but her incessant chatter distracted him from the tension that gradually built up in his stomach. The queasy feeling had subsided as soon as the young woman sitting down next to him had started a conversation, bringing him some relief.

Slightly annoyed by the high pitched tone of her voice, he shifted on his bar stool and briefly glanced at her. She stopped her tiresome babbling only to drink another sip of her candy cane martini, licking her red lips in an attempt to seduce him before smiling flirtatiously. 

Her purpose was obvious but Levi was startled nonetheless when she dared to put her slender hand on his forearm. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, starting to lift her hand as he leaned over to reach the blonde's ear.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he whispered in a husky voice.

She pressed her body against his, her smile widening as she cooed: "sure!"

"Good, I was saving that seat for a friend!" he deadpanned, dropping her hand on the counter as he released his grip on her wrist.

The young woman's face twisted in anger and contempt. She grabbed her purse in no time and stormed out of the bar, leaving him both guilty and relieved. The past half-hour had been such a pain in the ass, but no doubt he had crossed a line talking to her like that. What the hell was wrong with him today?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath and checked his watch again. Of course they would be late. How could today be different from any other day? Getting engulfed in their work was Hange's second nature and today was no exception, no matter what his invitation for a drink implied this time.

The knot in his stomach weighed heavily again. His mouth was as dry as a desert and his throat tightened so much he had trouble swallowing some imaginary saliva. The longer he waited, the more nervousness got him and he was muttering an incoherent plea for this torture to end soon when the door bell rang.

A gust of cold wind rushed through the bar as Hange abruptly pushed open the door and stormed into the lively room. Levi rolled his eyes as his friend waved to him, shouting his name over the hubbub, their usual toothy grin plastered on their face. The corners of his lips were starting to lift in a faint smile when he noticed that Hange was holding someone's hand.

Levi froze.

A heavy load seemed to fall in his guts. His lips pressed tight briefly, but quickly he regained composure and his face was soon expressionless as usual.

Fuck! Hange had dragged Moblit with them! Why were they hanging out with their assistant? Working together all day, sometimes all night as well - he gritted his teeth at the thought - wasn't that enough for them?

He crossed his arms over his chest, his silver gaze boring through the poor man as Hange pulled him roughly through the crowded bar.

"Oi Levi! Don't mind Moblit joining us, right?" Hange blurted out cheerfully. 

Moblit faintly nodded to Levi, obviously uncomfortable around him.

Levi turned away from them.

"Bold of you to assume I would say yes to begin with, Four-Eyes!" he replied with irritation. "But now you decided it all on your own, he might as well stay I guess."

"C'mon Shorty! The more the merrier, right? Do you always have to be so dramatic? Just don't make a big deal out of this, will you?" Hange said.

"I told you it's fine, which word did you not understand?"

Hange turned towards Moblit and sneered: "Mr Grumpass over here has the worst case of resting bitch face known to man, but he's a softie deep inside, right Levi?"

Rolling his eyes, he grunted and leaned to the bartender. "Two beers and…" he turned to Moblit. "What do you drink?"

The young man seemed fascinated by the tips of his shoes but mumbled a vague reply, his face blushing under Levi's look. He had been feeling the short man's unwonted hostility since his arrival.

"Two beers and a whisky neat then, please," he ordered.

Levi grabbed the bottles and Moblit his own glass and they sat at the table a group of noisy students just left. Hange took off their worn out coat, randomly threw it on their chair and headed to the bathroom.

Only swallowing sounds filled the awkward silence between both men as they took a sip of their drink. Time seemed to stretch as they waited for Hange to come back.

"You...you seem to be…in a…in a worse mood than usual today, Levi." Moblit found the courage to break the heavy atmosphere, the end of the sentence stumbling out of his mouth in a hurry. "Are you alright?"

Levi averted his gaze. "Nothing unusual, don't worry about that," he replied in a breath.

Moblit's fingers fidgeted over his glass. His eyebrows seemed to knit as he was deep in thought.

"I saw it, you know…" he said after a pause. "When we stepped in earlier."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Levi glanced nervously to the bathroom door every once in a while, his knuckles whitening as he tightened the grip on the beer bottle.

"I noticed that you almost smiled when Hange came in, but your face soured as soon as you saw me."

Moblit paused for a few seconds again, his eyes still dived into his glass.

"So I'm asking you what's wrong today, because I never ever saw you so angry with me!" he finally let out sheepishly.

Levi rubbed his face, ran his hand through his hair and let out a long, weary sigh. Leaning over the table, gesturing to get Moblit to do the same, he finally asked in an infuriated whisper: "the fuck are you doing here? Why didn't Hange come alone?"

Taken aback, Moblit gasped: "they said you planned to have drinks together tonight and they invited me. As a friend."

Anger still filled Levi's low voice.

"Why did you accept? Now you ruined it all, dumbass!"

Moblit choked on a sip of whisky and coughed.

"What do you mean, Levi? How could I refuse? I thought Erwin and Miche would be here as well but I don-"

Moblit stopped and his eyes widened comically as he came to a logical conclusion.

"Holy sh-shit... I'm sorry to ask this but…is this a date?" he squeaked.

As Levi opened his mouth to reply, Hange rushed over to them and, as graceful as a hippo, sank into their chair with a relieved sigh.

"Oi! How are you doing guys? Talking about me?" they said with a dorky grin.

"We were starting to worry, Four-Eyes!" Levi scoffed. "Man, how long of a shit were you taking anyway?"

Hange burst out laughing: "oh, long enough to get the job done, thank you for asking!"

Moblit had been stunned for years by their constant, almost always disgusting bickering, mostly based on poop jokes and mean nicknames. But today he couldn't believe this banter may have become a sick way of flirting, at least from Levi's part.

Fucking weirdos.

He finished his drink in one gulp and put his glass on the table a little too heavily. The young man suddenly cleared his throat, interrupting the stream of gross jesting flowing between the two, drawing Levi's irked attention to him.

Hange's boisterous laughter faded away as they also turned to look at him. 

"I…I have to…to go now," he uttered sheepishly.

As he got up, pushing back his chair with an unpleasant screeching, Hange grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Where do you think you're going?" they asked. "Don't leave me alone with Shortstack over here, he's literally pouring his shit-talking down on me!" They winked and grinned as Levi rolled his eyes.

Hange looked up at him with their legendary pleading puppy eyes."Stay with us Moblit, we only just got started! It'll be so much fun! Please, please, please, please!!!"

Moblit briefly glanced at Levi and a shiver of dread instantly ran down his spine as he met his sharp grey look.

"I'm…I'm…s-sorry, Hange, I…I really have to…to go now." A pearl of cold sweat made its way down his face. 

"I'm…I'm supposed to see…er… Nifa later and I…I need to take a shower first! Have fun and...and…well, see you tomorrow at the lab Hange!"

Before his friend tried to stop him from leaving again, he hurried out of the bar as Levi watched him go, a smug smirk on his face.

Hange was right: they had just got started.

*****

Thank you so much to my Darling Terra @dont-f-with-moogles for beta/proof reading 😘