#sorry for what could be a barrage of posts or the last one

[chelseeebe]

trick or treat

18+. mdni. no smut but my blog is 18+.

day six of spooky week and reader bravely offers to take the party trick or treating, finding an unlikely guest along the way

a/n: six days of consistent posting has actually made me lose brain cells.. i don’t like this as much as i wanted to but i’m sticking to my guns and posting anyway. i’m not sure if tomorrow’s will make it up in time but i’m going to try my absolute hardest <3

☾⋆⁺₊🎃´₊⁺~

knuckles wrap against the grand wooden door, hoping to god it was dustin that answered and not steve. 

you can hear a barrage of footsteps on the other side, rushing down the hall to get to you first. the door swings open, dustin and his makeshift skeleton costume sit on the other side, a harsh scowl when he realises it’s you and not his friends. 

“what’re you doing here?” crossing his arms over his chest. 

“i’m coming with you, joyce ask-“

“-you don’t need to babysit us,” throwing a temper tantrum at the mere suggestion of you joining them on their journey around hawkins. 

“well, joyce says otherwise,” crossing your arms over your chest, you meant business. “jonathan’s busy and she wants someone to watch out for will so you’re just gonna have to deal with it,” sticking your tongue out for good measure. 

dustin huffs, nostrils glaring as he stomps back into steve’s living room. 

the older boy was helping him get ready, terribly painting a skull onto his grinning face. a faint argument rises from behind the door, scuffed footsteps fighting to reach the door before you had the opportunity to look in. 

“-we don’t need a babysitter at all! let alone two!” dustin screeches, throwing his pillowcase on the ground as he reaches the door, steve appearing behind. 

“two?” you question, looking down at the abandoned treat bag and then back up to a sheepish looking steve. 

“well.. i mean, you can’t take them all around hawkins on your own, i was just.. offering to join you,” his hand rubbing the back of his neck, ignoring dustin’s scowl to focus on your face. 

“oh,” attempting to hide your blush, passing it off as if it were just the chilly october air, “yeah.. sure, i could use some help,” stuffing your hands into your pockets, concealing your squeal of excitement. 

“great! great.. yeah, let me get my jacket and we can go,” rushing off inside while dustin sulks like a petulant child.

“you two are gross,” he remarks snidely, turning up his nose at the two of you.

it's a chilly evening in hawkins, your coat not doing enough against the wild wind. much colder than usual for this time of year which makes you a tad unsettled. after everything that had happened last year, a sudden drop in temperature didn’t seem like something you should ignore. 

steve walks beside you, humming to some pop tune as his eyes stay trained on the boys and which houses they were at. 

“so you’re going? to new york?" he starts,  keeping two strides behind the boys at all times, dustin would surely suffer a mental breakdown if you dared got any closer. 

“yeah,” you nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets, “there’s a really good opportunity for me up there,” a twinge of something in your chest, unwilling to come off as braggy at all.

“that’s cool..” steve whistles, looking anywhere but at you, “i’ll miss you- i mean, we’ll all miss you,” clearing his throat in a pitiful attempt to hide what he really meant. 

“i’ll miss you too steve,” smiling softly over at his flushing cheeks, “you can come visit i’m sure,” shrugging indiscriminately. 

your all-consuming crush on steve was no secret to those around you, you’d been longing after him since freshmen year. hanging on his every word even during the multitude of girlfriends and hookups, desperate for his attention to one day fall unto you. 

though now you’re actually friends, like, real friends, you find yourself hoping that he doesn’t look at you, praying he doesn’t notice your sorry eyes or your longing smile. afraid that he’d find you utterly pathetic and tell you harshly that you and him would just never ever come to be. 

“but hawkins won’t be the same without you,” his feet crushing the dried auburn leaves, “who’s gonna help me take care of these guys?” chuckling softly, the cold air billowing from his lips. 

“you’re just gonna have to find a new babysitting partner,” shrugging softly though your heart sinks a little. 

steve’s mouth opens to reply but is abruptly interrupted by the gaggle of kids storming up the sidewalk to you. in a cleverly thought out formation, dustin at the front, mike all the way in the back. 

“we were thinking,” dustin starts, a tooth-achingly sweet grin plastered on his face, “and we think that you two shouldn’t have to spend your entire evening following us around, so,” looking around at his friends, “we’re happy to offer you half of all of our candy if you just leave us alone,” grinning as if he had offered the deal of the century. 

steve looks perplexed, sharing a questioning glance with you before turning his attention back to the eager boys in front, “what makes you think we want your shitty candy?” 

dustin’s smile drops, nose scrunching with such visceral anger, “look steve, we know you’d rather be off making out with each other or whatever, so why don’t we just cut the shit? you guys go home, we can take care of ourselves.” 

he puts his hand up to make a point, sputtering noises that don’t exactly make a coherent sentence, “that’s not- what the hell, dustin? mrs. byers asked us to watch you it’s not-“

“we’ll be okay! my mom just worries,” a bright-eyed will steps forward, offering his two cents. 

steve exhales, looking to you once more before shrugging. you were the one she’d asked anyway, not him.  

“what if something bad happens? like.. like last year?” you query, looking solely at will now. 

“it won’t,” solemnly shaking his head, “i’m better now, i promise.” 

your lips pout, contemplating whether the little shits could be trusted. joyce would never be mad at you, wise to her son and his friends tricks. 

“okay..” nodding slowly, “but i’m taking you up on that candy offer, and i want the good stuff.. not smarties or mints or whatever shit you think you can trick me with,” a harsh glare to the clan of boys. 

mike goes to protest until lucas’ elbow meets his ribs, a chorus of thankyou’s echo out before they sprint away, tripping over themselves to get as far away from you as possible. 

“i didn’t think you’d say yes,” steve remarks, a humorous tone to his voice. 

“what can i say? they drive a hard bargain,” suddenly regretting letting them run amok around the hawkins streets, “do you think i should’ve said no?” 

“oh no, definitely not,” falling into laughter, “i don’t think they would’ve let you say no anyway.” 

you scoff, looking around at the busy street, “you’re right.. i’m gonna uh.. head home then, since we’re not needed anymore,” attempting to hide your disappointment at not getting to walk around with him all night. 

“you wouldn’t wanna.. watch a movie or something, would you?” steve interjects before you can walk away, “my parents are out of town so my house is empty and i’ve got popcorn,” sweetening up his deal. 

your heart thuds a little too hard, unsure of whether you’d still be alive after a movie alone with steve, on his couch. but you nod anyway, continuing back in the direction you’d came from. 

his house is sterile, it honestly reminds you of something from a showroom, not meant to be lived in but just admired. kind of like steve, when you think about too much. 

you weren’t going to be together, he was a prize, someone you’d lust after but never truly get. 

the opening sequence to friday the 13th pulls you from your sour thoughts, sitting just inches away from him and his meticulously styled hair, the consolation of freckles and moles you’d connected a thousand times in your head. 

he doesn’t look real, a figment of your imagination except his chest is rising and falling in time with yours and he keeps shifting in his seat. 

“so when do you leave?” startling you from your haze, pulling your attention to him. 

“uh.. june, i’m going up early to get settled.” 

“oh, cool,” inhaling sharply, a long, drawn-out exhale immediately after, “i still got a few months left with you then,” offering a grimacing smile as his words register in his brain, “obviously i mean that we all do.” 

“i knew what you meant,” convincing yourself that he had just misspoke and that the obvious undertones to everything he had said this evening weren’t actually there. 

“actually i don’t think you do,” steve sighs, no longer the suave sweet talker he once was, now just some old guy that drive kids to and from their dnd meetings. 

“oh?” you remark, sitting back in shock. 

he leans forward, over the overflowing bowl of popcorn, “i’m trying to hit on you, i’ve been trying all night,” allowing a glimpse of his former playboy interior to resurface, his eyes trailing from yours to your lips. 

you stare back with what only you can assume is a puzzled expression as steve moves back once again, “sorry- i’m not very good at this anymore, i-i thought you were interested but obviously- shit,” slapping his palm to his face, hiding in sheer despair. 

“no! nonono steve i am,” sputtering rather quickly, “i’m sorry, i’m just.. shocked. i didn’t know you felt like that too, y’know?” amazed that both of you could single handedly fumble this. 

“‘course i do,” shrinking into a bashful shadow of himself, “thought that was pretty obvious,” fiddling with his fingers, too shy for someone who had just admitted to having feelings for you. 

“not to me,” slightly offended that you had apparently been the last to know. 

he exhales, a sigh of relief, “fuck, i thought i’d read that totally wrong then.”

you stop, furrowing your brow, “what? you knew i liked you?” 

“i mean, kinda yeah.”

“did dustin tell you?”

“he-,” steve sighs, doing a terrible job of hiding his smile, “i might have told him how sad i was that you were leaving and he just told me that you might feel the same way too,” holding his hands up with all intentions of owning up, “he just wanted to help me out, i think,” a quiet sadness in his voice. 

any other time you’d strangle the little blabber mouth but only this time you can’t be too mad, without him, the two of you would’ve never had the guts to just say it. 

“now i’ve been dyin’ to kiss you for too long now so if you’ll forgive me,” leaning in once more, carefully cupping your chin in his palm and so gently kissing your lips that it almost feels like air. 

your eyes fluttering shut as the sparks fizzle behind your eyelids, the butterflies in your stomach flap so hard you’re almost nauseous.   

years and years of hopeless pining had lead to this, a syrupy sweet kiss on his couch as the guttural screams of alice hardy play on the background.

it’s all you’ve ever dreamed of and more, steve suddenly so real and malleable in your grasp.

[leftshoeuntied]

Quick lil tf141 x reader scenario but also I haven’t studied the U.S. amendments in however many years so if there are mistakes give me grace hahah

I’ve been thinking about a situation where the reader is home and all of the sudden there is a forceful knock at her front door, and when she opens the door, she is met with four gruff men staring back at her.

“Hello” she says apprehensively eyeing each of men individual “can I help you?”

“This is 32 Spearhead Road, right?” one of the men asks her.

“Yeah” she responds with a nod, still a bit wary of the group of men before.

“Brilliant, thanks love” The same man says leaning down to pick his rucksack back up and begins to push through the slightly ajar door and shoulders by the reader, and the other three men begin to follow his lead into the mudroom and kitchen.

“Bi-huh, excuse me!” the reader exclaims after a moment of shock, turning to follow the men, hot on their heels “what do you think you’re doing?” as the four start to disperse into the house, too casually.

“You said this is 32 Spearhead, no?” the original man pauses, turns to look over to the reader, sliding the rucksack off his shoulder and dropping it onto the tiled floors, “we’re here for the housing”.

“Excuse me? What housing?” The reader exclaims, still shocked at the men who barraged into her home and with growing frustration at their casualness of the situation.

“Temporary military housing” the man says plainly with a nod towards the reader and a raised eyebrow, like she should already know what he is referring to, “Captain John Price” he says stepping closer to the reader and sticking his hand out.

The reader ignores his hand and looks at him with a look frustration and confusion, “I get that you say you’re here for housing, but I have no idea what you mean. I’m not military”.

“I was told you should’ve received prior notice of our arrival” Price drops his outstretched hand. “Something in the post?” he adds after noticing the even more growing confusion on her face.

The reader eyes the pile of mail in the basket in the middle of her kitchen island. She had been meaning to get to the ever-growing pile of mail from the last couple of weeks, but the anxiety of the red stamps stating ‘past due’ and ‘action required’ on a majority of the envelopes kept her from digging through it.

Pulling the basket closer to her, she starts rifling through the envelopes to see one envelope inconspicuously labelled as federal first-class mail from an address in Virginia. When she rips open the envelope, a plain typed letter falls out with the heading of ‘Central Intelligence Agency’ and the CIA’s seal in the top left corner. 

As she quickly scans the letter, a few things stand out to her, the ‘ask’ but more like demand that she houses an American ally’s soldiers for an indefinite amount of time, an offer of a weekly stipend for her support, and ending the letter thanking her for doing her part in support of the American military and our allies, that we could not win this war without the support of Patriots like her. She would have scoffed at the last comment if she wasn’t spiraling at the moment.

“No no no, I know my rights” she says pointing to her chest, finally getting her thoughts straight. “The third amendment says I can’t be forced to house any soldiers in my house against my will” the reader argues looking back up from the documents with a furrowed brow, but drops her gaze again, using her finger to scan through the document quickly one more time. “Especially not British soldiers” she mutters.

“Sorry love, I don’t know anything about your laws, I just followed the orders” Price says leaning against the kitchen island, watching as she continues to scan through the document, looking for an out.

______

TLDR: My thoughts are that the US has to formally declare war but during the formal war declaration process, congress slips through a law through that allows the U.S. military and intelligence agencies to override the 3rdamendment (there is some debate on if the U.S. could actually do this, but with the right scenario it could be pushed through only during active war), and with the average American focusing more on the formal declaration of war, the overriding of the 3rd amendment is purposefully missed on the formal announcement to the news from the American government because there would be so much outcry over it.

Is this anything? It’s been banging around my brain for the last week or so, so it’s nice to get it on paper at least hahah but let me know your thoughts, I would greatly appreciate it! 

[eddiediazismyhusband]

What are your thoughts on the relationship Buck has with Pepa and Isabel? (There is pretty much nothing of it in canon but me personally I think at the very least they like him for how much he loves his Diaz boys. )

And how well do you think Buck speaks/understands Spanish?

hi bestie, once again i am so sorry for neglecting your ask— i feel like i posted multiple little ask games (especially my wip one that i have had absolutely no time to work on any of them for the aks i got) and then immediately got bombarded by real life stress (i was working on two theatrical productions, as well as finishing my last semester of college) as well as fandom stress (all of the bts content that hasn’t proven to be exciting to me in any capacity) and then began to get a barrage of hate anons in my inbox that sent me into a nervous spiral so i am only just now getting to sit down and go through my inbox!

anyway, that long winded explanation out of the way, onto your ask!

I actually love the idea of Pepa and Abuela adopting Buck as their sobrino/nieto respectively because of how close he is with eddie and chris. i really wish we could have gotten to see more of abuela this season (i know ryan said at the beginning of s7 that there was a plotline involving abuela but then it got cut when tim decided to scrap 7b) and possibly see her view on buck and eddie’s relationship after buck came out… i hope though that we get to see more of them in s8, however, especially with chris being in texas, i’d love to see abuela take on a more central role in chris’s story this season, perhaps providing context to eddie and shannon’s relationship that eddie leaves out every time he romanticizes it to chris. I think it would also provide some interesting room to play with abuela and chris talking about buck’s role in chris and eddie’s lives, and possibly getting christopher to see what’s in front of all of them, and then having chris come back to tell them that he loves the family they’ve built and doesn’t want to lose it (which could also provide some angst for buddie if this happens after their feelings realization, and they both refrain from starting a relationship because they think chris doesn’t want that) which could provide a sort of gateway for pepa to swoop in and smack them both on the back of their heads. I know that wasn’t quite what you asked, but i think they have a lot of rook to showcase buck’s relationship with abuela and pepa onscreen, and i hope that it’s shown that he is considered one of their one, further cementing his role in eddie and chris’s lives

as far as buck speaking spanish, i’m sure he has to know some peruvian spanish from working in peru before moving to LA, but there are differences between peruvian spanishand mexican spanish as well as the familial slang that would come with the diazes, so i think buck would pick up bits and pieces of things said by the diazes, and could maybe carry a conversation, but i wouldn’t say he is fluent. i do think eddie/chris/abuela/pepa all pick on him for getting mixed up, or for his accent, even though for a pennsylvania native living in LA, his spanish isn’t terrible.

thank you for the ask! i’m sorry again that it took me so long to get around to it, and sorry that my answer for the first point is probably not quite what you were looking for, but i had a lot of fun thinking about how they could play with buck’s relationship w both abuela and pepa next season (though, i won’t hold my breath for that)

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Hello could you do more fics about ballister head injury?(love your worke❤️)

THIS RESPAWNED IN MY DRAFTS HOLY SHIT

I'm so glad you love my work thank you so much for this ask 🩷 sorry it took so long but as I had said in another post, my Tumblr ate it for breakfast and it was disappeared from my askbox and drafts. But it reappeared!!! Please enjoy your very late drabble request <3

Cw: seizures, brain injury

Ballister leaned against Ambrosius, closing his eyes. “You sleepy, Bal?”

“Mhm.” Ballister rubbed his eyes. “I couldn't get to sleep last night. Kept having headaches and weird dreams.”

“That's no good, babe. Try to take it easy today. Do you think it's your head?”

“He just said it was his head, duh.” Nimona cut in. She'd been back for the past couple months, and she and Ambrosius were still getting used to each other. Ballister chuckled. “It's probably fine.” Ambrosius made a worried face.

Eight months ago, when Ballister was on the run, he'd suffered considerable head trauma, several times, one after another after another. The whole thing left Ballister with considerable brain damage in the frontal and temporal lobes especially. It was especially significant in the first few weeks after everything happened, when he was often unsteady on his feet, spoke with slurred speech, struggled with short term memory, understanding rapid or unclear speech, and extreme emotional outbursts where he would be extremely afraid, sad, angry, or happy without apparent cause. He'd also started having seizures at that time. Ambrosius learned to deal with them, but he always hoped each one would be Ballister's last. The doctor said they'd stop eventually, but they never knew when eventually would come.

Thankfully, since then, his brain had healed tremendously. Still, Ambrosius couldn't help but worry when Ballister had anything going on with his head.

“Alright, well, just be careful, okay? Don't strain yourself.” He kissed Ballister's cheek.

Nimona cackled. “Come on, Nemesis. I don't think the boss is gonna let some dumb headache slow him down! He's not made of glass, you know. He's ten percent solid steel and a hundred percent badass!”

“My arm makes up five percent of my weight, Nimona, also it's made of titanium.” Ballister smiled at her.

“See? Even cooler.” She returned to what she was doing and Ambrosius sighed. Maybe he was being a little overly anxious.

But as the day went on, Ballister seemed off. Foggy, distracted, a little bit uncharacteristically emotional or snippy sometimes. Even Nimona noticed, Ambrosius could see the puzzlement in her face even if she said nothing. It all came to a head later that day, they were at a park and they were noticed by members of the public, who started their usual barrage, asking frankly triggering questions and requesting photographs and signatures.

Ambrosius was used to all that, but while Ballister was somewhat accustomed to it, it always stressed him out. Ambrosius managed to fish his lover and Nimona away from the paparazzi and back to the safety of their vehicle.

“You guys alright?” Ambrosius started it up, flying through the airways. Ballister didn't answer, he glanced over. “Bal?”

His lover looked distant, blinking fast, looking around in a haze. “Do you, lemon?”

“What?” Oh shit. “Nimona, take his arm off!” Ambrosius began landing the vehicle in a safe place.

“What?” She looked quizzically from the backseat.

“Now! He's having a seizure, the prosthetic is wired to his nerves and muscle, the electrical signals can make it go nuts!”

Ballister knew a seizure was coming when he tasted lemon out of nowhere. They needed to get it together quickly, he was already having trouble speaking.

Quickly Nimona reached forward and disconnected the arm, and not a moment too soon. Ballister’s face twisted and his head began to jerk, along with his right leg, a rhythmic back and forth motion. Once Ambrosius was safely parked, he grabbed the blanket from the back seat and cushioned Ballister's head, and started a timer on his phone. A car was not the ideal place for this to happen, he wasn't completely sure of the protocol. Ballister was at least buckled, so he couldn't collapse into the dashboard. “It's okay, Bal.” He whispered softly. Everything will be okay.”

Nimona's eyes were wide with terror. After sixty-two seconds, Ballister went still, his eyes blearily gazing in front of him, foggy. Ambrosius stroked his hair. “It's over, love. It's over. You're okay.”

Nimona swallowed. “What happened to him?”

Ambrosius exited the vehicle and came around to open Ballister's door so he could more closely check up on him. He unbuckled him and helped him out of the car, supporting most of his weight. “Nimona, let me lay him in the back, he needs to lay on his side.”

Nimona moved out of the way. “What happened to him?”

Once Ballister was laid safely in a recovery position, Ambrosius sat beside the car and stroked his hair. “He had a seizure.”

“A seizure? I thought you had to be born with those. I've never seen him do this before.”

“He hit his head, a lot, after–” Ambrosius swallowed. “After what I did to him. It all added up, and left enough damage that this happens sometimes. Eventually it's supposed to go away, but we have no idea when. He's okay, he just won't be able to talk for a few minutes. Will you sit back here with him? Just make sure he's breathing okay, and try to comfort him while I drive home. Sometimes he gets a little emotional. You can give his arm back, too.” He swallowed. He wanted to comfort Ballister, but he needed to get them home safely. Ballister could recover better at home.

Nimona didn't seem to know what to do, but for once, she didn't argue. Ambrosius drove home hearing her speak softer than he ever had, in a reassuring voice.

When they got home, they managed to assist Ballister inside. He could now understand speech and get out a word here and there, but he was mostly disoriented and exhausted. Once Ambrosius checked that his breathing was normal, and he didn't have any severe bites in his mouth, he tucked him into their bed and let him rest, setting a timer to wake him up and check on him.

Nimona looked gaunt, she paced the living room.

“Aren't you a thousand years old? I thought you'd be used to things like seizures. This wasn't a bad one, thankfully. He's okay, you don't have to worry.” Ambrosius was a hypocrite. He was extremely worried.

She shook her head. “Not that, I mean, I've seen them before, they're normal, I've known thousands of people– but I didn't realize— I didn't realize someone could hurt their head so easily.” She whispered.

“What do you mean?”

She swallowed. “He got hit in the face with a rock when the Institute blew up. And I dragged him home. And I didn't even try to make sure he didn't hit his head! He was getting smacked into curbs left and right and– and I thought it was funny!” She rubbed her face. “I haven't been close with a human in so long, I forgot how fragile they were, how even something like that– it's partially my fault, don't you get it? I was careless and he hit his head and now he's suffering because of me.”

Ambrosius swallowed. Ballister told him about how Nimona said he'd hit his head on the curb when she took him home, and yes, it had contributed to several in a series of head injuries. He sat on the couch. “Nimona, it's not your fault. I knew about that. The doctor said the concussions hadn't helped, but most of the damage was from the debris, from Todd beating him up, and from when he fell through the stadium floor. It's just– how it is.”

Nimona sat on the couch beside him and sniffed. “You don't understand. I forgot how easily humans can be hurt. How easily they can die.”

“Oh…” Ambrosius looked down. “Well, for what it's worth, I don't think he'd be here at all if it wasn't for you. Humans are weak, but Ballister is strong. He's kind, resilient, and forgiving– I know that better than anyone. He's gonna be fine. Don't beat yourself up.”

Nimona sniffed and smiled at him. “Thanks, nemesis.”

[harry-on-broadway]

The Last Line: Part Three

Part Three

Word Count: 10K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: I actually managed to keep my promise and post when I said I would 😅 But seriously, thank you to everyone who has hung around waiting for the update. I hope you like it and would LOVE to hear what you think! 

***

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Are you going to get that?” Chloe asked pointedly, eyeing Penny’s phone as it vibrated on her desk.

“I’m sorry, is it bothering you?” Penny replied cheekily.

“Yes, but only because I want to know who has been texting you.”

Penny picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Four text messages from Harry. “Just a source,” she said. “I think I might have a lead on a new feature, so I’ve been trying to build a relationship with them.” That was kind of the truth wasn’t it?

“Uh huh,” Chloe said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “And does this source’s name rhyme with Barry Tiles?”

“Shhhh!”

“I knew it!”

The two women stared at each other over the partition that separated their desks, as Penny steeled herself for the barrage of questions Chloe was sure to hurl at her. “You want to take a walk? Get a coffee?” Chloe asked, clearly opting for discretion now that she had gotten what she was looking for from Penny.

“Yes, but you’re buying.”

“Deal.”

When their lattes were in their hands, Penny and Chloe began their slow and strategic walk around the office park, following a carefully planned route that they knew put them out of earshot of nosy coworkers.

“So when did this happen?” Chloe asked.

“Umm…” Penny searched for an answer. “Like a couple of weeks ago, I think? We got drinks after that concert we went to.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that but not the fact that he’s suddenly your new best friend.”

“You know he’s not my best friend. I could never take that title away from you.”

“I appreciate that but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me about him.”

“I didn’t say anything because this just kind of…happened,” Penny said.

And it had. She thought about the way she had texted him when she’d gotten home from their post-show drinks. And how he’d replied. And how when she’d woken up the next morning he’d sent her another message, this one containing a link to a country song that she hadn’t heard before. She thought about how she listened to the song on repeat while she made her coffee and got ready for work, crafting the perfect response in her head as she tapped her fingers to the beat. She thought about how Harry had texted her daily since that night. And, each time she added to her notes on whatever it was Harry was working on, she tried to suppress the feelings of guilt that brewed deep inside.

“Like hell it ‘just happened.’” Chloe tried to make air quotes around the coffee cup in her hands. “It wasn’t that long ago that I thought I’d have to be a character witness at trial for you.”

“Ha ha, but I swear! We just had a drink and talked and things progressed from there.”

“Where’d you take him?”

“Seventy7.”

“Your date spot?”

“My source meeting spot.” Penny took a sip of her coffee.

“So, he’s a source? What are you cooking up?”

Penny looked around, making sure they were far away from anyone who might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “He has a new album coming out sometime this year. Tom told me and so did Harry. And I was thinking, maybe if I got a scoop on it, it would impress Darren and would give me a better shot at landing some stories.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “But in what world is this a good idea? Did you miss the ethics class freshman year? You know the one about unbiased reporting? Keeping friends and family out of stories? Do you recall any of that? Or were you too hypnotized by his ravishing good looks during your date that all rational thought left your head?”

“He’s neither friend nor family and it wasn’t a date. It was networking. A source meeting. You have those all the time.”

“Yeah, at premieres where I’m talking to 50 year-old men I most certainly don’t want to fuck.”

“I don’t want to fuck Harry.”

“OK, that was great,” Chloe said. “Let’s take that once more though, and this time make me believe you actually believe what you’re saying.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” Penny said definitively.

Chloe held her gaze waiting for her friend to break. “Well all right then we’ve settled it.” Penny’s phone buzzed again. “What’s your ‘source’ want now?”

Penny unlocked her phone, angling the screen so Chloe could see the four texts Harry had sent.

Hey. How’re you?

I’m in the studio today so I’m on your side of town. Might be stopping by the office to talk to Jeff about something too.

Been listening to this today. Have you heard of it?

Um, any chance you want to grab a drink? Maybe dinner?

“Do you usually get dinner with sources?” Chloe asked with a grin.

“First time for everything,” Penny said, replying to Harry’s message.

Yeah, maybe tomorrow?

His reply came back fast. How’s tonight?

“Someone’s eager,” Chloe laughed.

“What’s wrong with that? Maybe I’ll get what I need.” After confirming the time and location, Penny slid her phone into her bag. “Now where were we?”

“You were profusely denying your attraction to Harry. Unbelievably, I might add.”

“Chlo, I don’t know how many times I can say this…I’m simply tolerating him to get something from him.”

“This is the part in the rom com where the sassy best friend tells the plucky protagonist that she’s making a mistake because she’s going to develop real feelings.”

“And this is the part in the rom com where I go back to my desk and actually get some work done.”

Penny spun on her heel and started back towards the office, leaving Chloe to catch up behind her. Penny spent the rest of the afternoon bouncing between edits to a listicle about “10 Songs You Didn’t Realize Were Turning 10 in 2019” and making a list of things she wanted to ask Harry that night. How far along was the album? Was he close to announcing a release date? A single? Were the songs he’d been sending her any indication of what his new tracks would sound like? A few minutes before five, she slammed her laptop shut, tossing it into the canvas tote that doubled as her purse and work bag these days.

“See you tomorrow,” she called to Chloe and Devon, one of their graphic designers. Devon waved, quickly turning his attention back to his monitor, while Chloe spun in her chair.

“Make good choices tonight,” she called with a sly wink. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“You’ll be my one call if I do,” Penny called cheerfully over her shoulder, as Chloe’s laugh echoed through the mostly empty newsroom.

Penny pulled out of the parking garage, cruising through the streets to the restaurant Harry had texted her. It was a bit further out than she usually traveled during the week, but when she looked on the map, it looked like it was midway between her neighborhood and his. Neutral territory. She drummed along to the song on the radio ��� something by Justin Timberlake – as she waited for the light to turn, catching a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Several strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and she had a smudge of eyeliner under her left eye.

Ugh. This was not how she wanted to show up to dinner. Eyeing the light and the number of cars in front of her, she shook out her hair, retying it into something slightly neater before rubbing at the smudge under her eye. That looked better, right? She continued to stare at her reflection. What was missing? Lipstick? She thought she had one that wasn’t too old in her bag. After one more glance at the light, she rooted through her tote until she found a neutral coral color that wouldn’t look too out of place on her face. She was just about to apply it to her lips when the car behind her laid on their horn.

“OK, sorry. I’m going!” she cried out to no one in particular. Lipstick would have to wait. But as she made the final turns of her journey and pulled into the parking lot, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to get dressed up for Harry. This was essentially a business meeting. She gave one final glance at the lipstick that was now on her passenger seat and decided to forgo it. Source meeting, business dinner, not a date. She locked her car and made her way inside. Harry had texted her that he was already there at a table in the back, a message she relayed to the host at the lobby of the restaurant.

“Party name?” he asked.

“Ugh…” She stumbled over her words. “Harry Styles,” she whispered, unsure if she was breaking some unspoken rule by saying his full name aloud.

The host smiled knowingly. “Right through here. You’ll see him seated towards the back. Have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, you too!” Penny said, walking through the curtain that separated the dining room from the lobby.

Her eyes swept over the room, adjusting to the dim lighting as she looked for Harry, finding him on a second glance. He lifted his hand and waved gently, a soft smile on his face. She strode briskly to the table, and he stood as she approached.

“Hey,” he said when she was within earshot. “You look nice.”

Penny looked down at her worn jeans, t-shirt, and blazer. “Thanks?”

“Shit, that was weird,” Harry said with a laugh.

“No. Hey, I’ll take it. You look…nice…too.” It wasn’t a lie. Harry would look fantastic wearing anything in any situation, but there was something about him that was different from the last time she’d seen him. He looked tired. Stressed. “How have you been?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Good, good. Staying busy, lots going on,” Harry said, returning to his seat once Penny had sat down. “Been spending some long days in the studio which is…great, but also tiring.”

“I can imagine.”

“You?”

“Oh, pretty similar actually. Not that I’m in a studio, but just a lot of work stuff. They haven’t hired a new news writer yet so I’m kind of doing the work of two people right now, and then there’s a lot of late nights with concerts and stuff and oh my God I should stop talking.” She laughed nervously.

“No, you’re good,” Harry said with a chuckle. “See anyone cool lately.”

“I saw John Legend last week, and I’m seeing a jazz ensemble tomorrow.”

“Sick.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward pause fell over the table as Harry sipped his water and Penny fidgeted with the silverware in front of her. Mercifully, a waiter appeared to take their drink orders.

“I’ll do the Moscato,” Harry said after perusing the wine menu.

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll have some as well,” Penny said, returning her own menu.

“Should I bring a bottle for the table?” the waiter asked.

“Uh, sure,” Harry said. “Is that OK?” He looked at Penny who just nodded. “The bottle would be great, thanks.”

The waiter disappeared and returned shortly, pouring their wine and taking their dinner orders, before leaving them alone. Silence once again filled the space between them.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Penny asked at the same time Harry asked if she had listened to the song he’d sent her. They both laughed.

“I just thought we could catch up. Make good on that promise of ‘next time,’” he said, swirling the wine in his glass.

“Oh yeah,” Penny took a sip of her own wine. “You said you’d been getting lots of studio time in. I assume the new project is coming along nicely.”

“It’s certainly coming along. I’m not sure about nicely.”

“Why not?”

Harry let out a long breath. “Things aren’t going as easily as I hoped. I feel like everything I’ve written in the past couple of weeks has been shit.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s a lie.”

“I don’t know. If you heard what I finished before I came here you might think differently.”

“You write with others, right?” Penny asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Tom, Tyler, Mitch. That’s the usual crew.”

“Good group. I’m not super familiar with Mitch’s work, but I’m sure he’s top tier if you’re working with him.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment for me or Mitch, but I’ll accept it regardless.”

Penny thought about shooting back a “Why would I compliment you?” but seeing how drained Harry looked, she refrained. “Is there something in particular that’s holding you up?”

“Well, I did some writing while I was touring, and then did a lot of writing earlier this year when I was in Japan. But I still don’t feel like the album’s done. It’s like the secret ingredient is missing or something. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only person that feels that way and that everyone else just wants to wrap it up to get it out there.”

“You have to listen to your gut then,” Penny said without hesitation.

“Easier said than done.”

“No, seriously if you think something is missing, I think you have to hone in on that feeling. Really listen to what your heart and your gut are telling you. Only you know what your album needs to be. Collaboration is great and it clearly works when you have the right group of people together, but when you start letting everyone’s voice in the room, that’s when things start to feel inauthentic. And there’s nothing worse than listening to an album where you know it’s not what the artist fully believes.”

“You can tell?” Harry said, somewhat surprised.

“Well, it’s not like I know everyone personally,” Penny began. “But it’s just a feeling you get when you’ve listened to a lot of stuff. Artists have their signature, and it’s always there even when they start experimenting. Like let’s use Rihanna as an example. If she suddenly started writing about the good life on the farm and drinking beer on the porch with her dog, it would just feel weird, like a label pushing her to replicate the hot new country song. But good artists don’t need to follow the trends, they set them.”

Harry nodded, which Penny took as a sign to continue. “Like for example, your first album.” She took a breath knowing she was potentially treading on thin ice. “It really set the standard for your sound as a solo artist. It’s an album that is clearly very modern, but very heavily influenced by 60s and 70s rock. So, people know to expect that from you. You’re the guy that makes vintage modern and cool. But, perhaps that album was a little too cookie cutter, which I think you know. So this time around, maybe you needed to take a couple of risks, make an album that shows the world who Harry really is. Each album is an opportunity to change the trajectory of your career and I think you should act on it.” Harry stared at her, speechless. “Sorry, if I overstepped,” she said.

“No no, you didn’t,” he said. “Fuck that was exactly what I needed to hear.” He ran his hands over his face. “It’s just that even when I try to insulate myself from the noise, it leaks through. Comments about sales and singles and streaming and charting and all of this stuff that will really determine if I get to keep doing this. And it just makes me get so caught up in my head…” he trailed off.

“I do the same thing sometimes,” Penny replied. “I just get so focused on if this article will get more clicks than the last one, or if it will get good traction on social and help me ‘build my brand.’ I just forget why I do this job.”

Harry nodded. “It can be easy to lose that reason why.”

Their waiter used the break in the conversation to deliver their food, and Penny tucked into her chicken parm, savoring the dish that was a massive step up from her usual combo of a pre-packaged salad and Easy Mac.

“About those songs, you sent me,” Penny began.

“Oh! Did you like them?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Surprisingly?”

“Yeah, I'm admittedly not the biggest country fan,” Penny said. “And to be honest, I’m pretty surprised you're into that kind of music.”

“Oh, I love it,” Harry said, leaning closer and speaking faster. “Country artists are hands down the best at telling a story in a song. I’d like to be able to do that one day. You know, write about an experience that isn’t mine? Or at least tell a story of my own.”

“You’re well on your way to doing that.”

Harry flushed but ignored the remark. “I, uh, liked the playlist you sent me. I’ve been listening to it in the mornings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I’ve heard almost all of the songs before, but not in that way. They tell a different story when you listen to them back-to-back like that.”

“Oh, well thanks. I’ve always prided myself on making good playlists.”

“If you have another, send it my way,” Harry said, taking a bite of his pasta. “I’d love to hear more of what you’ve put together.”

“Well, I’ll have to send you my ‘Bad Bitch’ playlist that I listen to ahead of meetings with my editor.”

“Please.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Harry clearly didn’t take it that way. “Oh yeah, I’ll send it now.” She picked up her phone and sent him the link. “Enjoy. I hope you’re able to find your inner bad bitch.”

“I’ll keep you updated on my progress.”

When the waiter dropped the check on the table, Harry swiftly collected it, placing his card in the leather holder, ignoring Penny’s protests.

“I’m the one who invited you,” he said. “It’s only fair that I pay.”

Penny chewed on her lip. It was basic ethics that journalists didn’t accept gifts from sources. You always paid and kept your fingers crossed that your publication would reimburse you. “I can’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” What was she supposed to say? I accepted your invite because I wanted to hear about your album? I want to use you for my own personal gains? “Because it’s 2019 and women can pay for themselves.”

“Tell you what, you pay for me next time?”

“You and these next times,” Penny said with a laugh. “Always asking for more.”

“I just thought you were having fun and I was –”

“Harry, I’m kidding. It would be great to see you again. You’re actually pleasant to be around when you’re not acting like an asshole.”

“Two compliments in one night? I should buy you dinner more often!”

“I think that will be the next next time.”

Harry laughed and Penny noticed how when he found something funny, really truly funny, the skin around his eyes crinkled as his dimples deepened. She felt a rush of pride knowing she brought that out in him.

Harry’s phone chirped and the dimples and crinkles disappeared as he looked down at the incoming message. “I guess I should be going. Duty calls.”

“Heading back to the studio?”

“Yeah…” The lightness had disappeared from him.

“I know it’s easy for me, the person that will be critiquing your album, to say, but just write what you feel, Harry. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

Penny rose from the table and Harry followed her to the exit. “Have a great rest of your night,” she said, unlocking her car.

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said, swaying on his feet. “I’ll uh, see you later?”

“Definitely! I think I’m free on Wednesday. I’ll text you.”

Harry smiled, and Penny felt warm inside, and marveled at how he could make her feel so good with just one gesture. “I’m looking forward to that,” he said. “Drive safe.”

As she drove home, Penny listened to the songs Harry had sent her over the week, really paying attention to the lyrics and the stories Harry had been talking about. He was right. They were some of the best she’d heard.

It wasn’t until Penny pulled into her parking spot in front of her building that she realized she didn’t get answers to any of her questions.

***

Harry took the quickest route to the studio from the restaurant, opening the voice notes app on his phone when he was stopped at a red light. He spoke quickly, tripping over his words, wanting to make sure he captured everything he was feeling in the moment. When he reached the studio, he rushed in, nearly bumping into Tyler as he turned the corner.

“Wasn’t expecting you to come back tonight, H,” Tyler said.

“I wasn’t either but inspiration struck and…”

“No, I get it,” Tyler said. “Want to get to work?”

“Let’s do it.”

***

The next morning, Penny awoke to a message from Harry.

I think I’ve finally found my inner bad bitch. Thanks for all the help.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, Penny and Harry fell into a rhythm. He’d text her, usually at night when she was getting home from a gig, and they’d message back and forth until one of them fell asleep. They met up for impromptu drinks a few times and got coffee a couple of others. Their outings were usually initiated by Harry, and Penny was more than happy to go along with his suggestions. She kept reminding herself that this was just for work, but she couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying their time together.

Penny had just left Darren’s office one Wednesday afternoon, clenching her hands so hard, she was sure her nails had drawn blood. He’d killed another one of her features, even after suggesting she write it, and everything felt pointless. She was back at her desk deciding what her next move would be – get coffee or cry in the bathroom – when her phone rang. Seeing Harry’s name on the caller ID, she answered almost immediately.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Hey.” Penny could hear the waver in her own voice.

“Is now a bad time?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“You sound…upset,” Harry said cautiously.

“Just a typical day here.”

“Would you have time to take a break? Maybe get a coffee? I’m at Full Stop today.”

Penny looked at her watch. She had time to spare and the way things had been going lately, Harry might be the perfect way to improve her mood. “Sure. I can meet you at Blue Bottle in like 10 minutes.”

“See you there.”

Penny ended the call and grabbed her wallet. “I’ll be back later,” she said to Chloe. Blue Bottle was just a quick walk from her office and she stood outside the coffee shop, rocking back and forth on her heels until she saw Harry approach.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes searching her for obvious signs of distress. “I’m glad you were able to sneak away.”

“Yeah, I needed the break.” Penny gestured to the register inside. “Want to order now?”

Harry nodded and followed Penny inside, ordering an iced Americano after she’d asked for a vanilla latte.

“This was supposed to be my treat,” Harry said as Penny inserted her card into the machine to pay. “I invited you.”

“Next time’s on you,” Penny said with a tight grin, moving off to the side to wait for their drinks, handing Harry a straw.

“So…” Harry said, picking the paper straw wrapper. “Are we going to talk about whatever’s happening here?”

“What? Nothing’s going on.”

“It’s just, you sounded upset on the phone,” Harry said. “And now you just look kind of sad. Stressed.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. I was just worried that something was going on.”

Penny looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. It was truly touching how concerned he was, but it also felt monumental. Like whatever she said in response would change the course of whatever was happening between them. “Thanks,” she said after a moment. “It’s just been a rough day at work after a string of rough days.”

“Want to talk about them?”

Penny sighed. “It’s my editor.”

Harry nodded. “I remember you talking about him. He’s the one that keeps shitting on your ideas.”

Penny whipped around to look at him again. “You remember?”

“Yeah, because I thought he sounded like a dick from what you told me.”

“Well, I can confirm that he is. And what he’s been doing recently is instead of letting me pitch stories, he’s assigning me his own pitches, and then even after I follow every single one of his stupid-ass rules, he still kills the story. Now, some of my sources are starting to get cagey since they don’t love sitting down for a call for an article that never materializes and I just feel like a terrible writer and it’s just hard. I feel like I’m stuck and that I’ll never get out.” She looked at Harry “Well, that’s what’s new with me. How about you?” She laughed nervously, aware she’d just spilled her guts to the man who was her mortal enemy mere weeks ago.

“I’m really sorry you’re having to deal with this,” Harry said.

“I know it’s something everyone in a creative field goes through since art is so subjective but it’s just really tough when it feels like you’re the only one experiencing it.”

“Could I read it?”

“What?”

“Your story. The one Darren just killed,” Harry prompted.

“I don’t think you’d be interested. It’s really boring about music licensing and copyright law.”

“I don’t know. I’m a musician. I have songs. Feels pretty applicable.”

Penny sighed. “I’m just -”

“Trying to come up with another excuse?”

“Fine.” Penny unlocked her phone and opened the Google Docs app, navigating to the doc with the story she’d filed earlier that day. “Here,” she said, handing Harry her phone and walking away.

“Woah, where are you going?”

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you read my article. That’s just a form of cruel and unusual punishment. I’m going to wait over there.”

“No you’re not.” Harry grabbed Penny’s hand and pulled her back to his side, not letting go of her hand, even when she was standing next to him.

Penny froze. Harry didn’t appear to register what he was doing as he bowed his head and started to read the screen on the phone he held in his other hand. She stood there, next to him, watching as he read her work. The crinkle that emerged between his eyebrows as he focused, the way his mouth moved as he scanned the page, the way he nodded when he came across certain phrases.

“Latte and Americano for Penny,” the barista called.

Penny cleared her throat. “I should get those,” she said softly.

Harry looked down at the hands. “Oh, right, sorry. Didn’t mean to hold on like that.”

Penny fetched their drinks and when she returned, Harry had migrated to a small table in the corner where he finished reading the article. She didn’t want to fish for compliments, but was curious about what he thought. “Sooo,” she said, handing him the cup.

“I don’t know who your editor is but he’s an idiot for not publishing this. I heard a couple of people at Columbia discussing this last week. People would want to read this.”

“Maybe I should bring you back to the office to see if Darren will listen to you.”

“I am free for a couple more hours.”

Penny grinned. “Thanks. For…everything.”

“No, thanks needed, You’re a fantastic writer, Penny.”

“I wish Darren believed that. Hell, I wish I believed that.”

“Artists are always the most critical of themselves,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Do you know that from personal experience?”

Harry let out a long sigh and nodded. “It has been a week.”

“Making any progress?” Penny asked, trying to sound casual.

“Kind of. But the label is asking for something that’s more radio friendly and I just don’t want to give it to them. Probably because I don’t know how to give it to them,” he added under his breath.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good team. You’re…smart.”

Harry laughed. “You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Penny said. “You just have like good music sense. It’s something that can’t be taught.” Harry stared at her blankly. “What? Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to remember when you started being so nice to me.”

“Shut up! You’re so stupid,” Penny said, flicking her straw wrapper at him.

“Shut up!” Harry shot back, mocking her tone as flicked the paper back towards her.

The two giggled, shooting the paper back and forth until Harry put a little too much muscle into it, causing the paper to land on the back of the woman behind Penny.

“So athletics aren’t your strong suit?” she teased.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Penny?”

Penny turned around and came face to face with Darren. Was no place safe? “H-h-hi,” she spluttered. “I was just taking a break. I’ll be back at the office soon.”

“Oh no worries,” Darren said smoothly. “I can tell you’re busy.” He eyed Harry. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, pleasure,” Harry said, extending his hand for a handshake that Darren reciprocated. “I’m Harry.”

Darren nodded, not bothering to reciprocate the introduction. “Well, I’ll see you at the office, Penny.”

“Mhmm, talk soon.” Penny waited until she was sure Darren had left the coffee shop before turning back to Harry. “Fuck, I didn’t think he’d come here. He usually hates anything that brings people joy.”

“Was that weird? That was weird,” Harry said.

“It was.” Penny hadn’t been able to interpret what Darren had been thinking when he walked over there, but she didn’t think she’d be able to pretend like it hadn’t happened when she eventually made her way back to the newsroom.

“I think you could take him though,” Harry said.

“Excuse me?”

“I think you could beat him in a fight. Especially if it was a war of words.”

“Well, we’ve had a couple of those and they typically end with me hiding somewhere to cry.” Harry didn’t say anything and just stared at Penny with an indiscernible expression on his face. “But you didn’t need to know that…” she trailed off.

“You’re good at your job, Penny. Don’t let anyone try to convince you you’re not.”

“Thanks? Not sure if I believe that coming from the guy who bullied me over my writing a couple of weeks ago, but I’ll keep that in my back pocket.” Harry shook his head. “What?” Penny pressed.

“I’m always going to feel terrible about the way I treated you,” Harry said. “It had nothing to do with you, though. It was all about me.”

“Oh?”

“What bothered me was that everything you said was true. In that review you were just pointing out things that were painfully obvious. I just had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see. And when I read your words, I just felt so vulnerable.  Like if you noticed how guarded and cheap that album was, how many other people did too? I put everything into that it. What if that’s the best I have to offer? What if I never do anything better than that? Do you know what it feels like to question your worth and purpose like that every fucking day?”

“Of course I do. My job is to share my opinions online only to get yelled at by trolls on Twitter who think my being a woman means I don’t have a brain. Or feelings. Each day when I walk into work I have to brace myself for whatever shit Darren is going to throw at me. I have to watch men who know fuck all get chances that I deserve and anytime I try to do anything about it, I’m the one who gets punished. It’s exhausting and stresses me out more than it should, but if I woke up tomorrow and couldn’t do that, I’d be lost. It’s sadistic, but I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Harry blinked slowly. “I do,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think anyone has ever described it like that before, but that’s exactly it.”

They finished their drinks while checking their phones and it wasn’t lost on Penny how even sitting in silence with Harry felt comfortable, like they were old friends. She could have sat with him like that forever, but eventually Harry sighed, signaling the end of their time together.

“I probably need to be getting back,” he said. His face looked drawn and Penny couldn’t tell what had changed.

“Yeah, I should get back too.”

“I’ll walk you over.”

Penny got up and pushed in her chair as Harry disposed of their cups and wrappers. He met her at the door and held it open, walking alongside her when they were out on the sidewalk.

“Are you going back to the studio?” Penny asked. “Or is this a business day?”

“The studio. Hopefully things will fall together soon.”

“Well, break a leg? Good luck? I’m not sure what recording studio protocol is.”

“Any of those will work.” Harry glanced over at her. “Um, I’m assuming you’re back to work.”

“Yeah, not really sure what I’m going to work on for the rest of the day, but I’ll find something.”

“Try not to think about Darren. I mean it.”

“Well you can’t think about the studio execs when you write.”

“Deal.” Harry stopped outside Penny’s office as she pulled her ID from her pocket. “I’ll see you later.” He put his hand on her shoulder and then paused, as if it was a step too far. “Text me or something?”

Penny reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Definitely. Maybe we could do dinner sometime this week if you’re in the area.”

“Yeah, I’ll be around.”

“Great.” Harry’s hand was still on her shoulder as she awkwardly shifted towards the door. “Have a great rest of your day,” Penny said softly.

“You too,” Harry mumbled, breathless as he watched her walk inside.

***

Penny hadn’t been at her desk for more than a minute when Darren strode out of his office straight for her desk. “Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. She looked around, hoping that someone would be around to diffuse the conversation, but the newsroom was surprisingly empty.

“Penny,” Darren began, voice echoing in the empty room.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t realize you knew Harry Styles?”

“Um, that’s a recent connection. We have a mutual friend.”

“Very cool.” Darren sat on the edge of Chloe’s desk, clicking the pen in his hand. “Learn anything from him?” he asked, attempting to sound casual.

“Not really. Like I said, I only met him recently.”

“That’s a shame. Any scoop from him could be big. Keep an ear out.”

“Um, sure,” Penny said.

“Keep me in the loop on any developments.”

Penny would rather chew glass than keep Darren “in the loop” but she just nodded pleasantly, hoping her agreement would make him go away. “Will do,” she said.

“Great!” Darren hopped off of the desk and headed back to his office, nearly bumping into Chloe as she walked in, coffee and pastry in hand.

“What was that about?” Chloe asked. She wiped off the edge of her desk when she was sure Darren’s door was closed.

“So, Darren ran into me and Harry while we were getting coffee.”

“Ooh, tell me more.”

“He started pumping me for info on Harry–”

“No!” Chloe whined. “Not about Darren, about Harry. I didn’t know you all were meeting up.”

“It was an impromptu thing. He was in the area and I needed a breather.”

“And Darren saw you?”

“Yes, and I think he wants me to leverage my…knowledge…of Harry to get a scoop on something.” Penny chewed on her lip. “I feel conflicted.”

“Babe, that’s exactly what you’ve been planning this whole time! I told you it was a bad idea then and I still think it’s a bad idea. You really think any idea Darren has is a good one?” She said his name in a tone usually reserved for dog shit.

“I know, I know,” Penny moaned. “But I’m just kind of torn because getting anything on him would be great for me but it would ruin our -”

“Burgeoning love affair?” Chloe cut her off.

“No, our friendship or whatever the hell it is.”

“Pen, I think you know what the right move is here. So I’m not going to tell you. You’re better than this and you are smarter than this. Don’t be a Darren!”

Penny clicked the cap on and off of the pen as she thought about Chloe’s words. “There has to be a way I can do the best of both worlds. I mean, critics and journalists hang out with the subjects of their writing all of the time. I can make this work.”

“I will make sure not to tell you ‘told you so’ when this blows up in your face.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend.” They sat at their respective desks and worked until it was closing time. Penny said goodbye and headed to her car. As she stepped outside of the building, she impulsively turned left, taking the circuitous route that would take her in front of Full Stop’s office. As she approached the building, she squinted looking in the windows. She didn’t know what she was hoping to find but she felt an extreme sense of disappointment when she didn’t see Harry.

She finished her walk to the garage, climbing in her car and turning the radio on first thing. As she drove home, her mind wandered – to Darren, to her brother’s upcoming birthday (she still needed to find a card), to Chloe’s annual film festival – but her thoughts were mainly occupied by Harry. What was he doing at this moment? Was he still at the studio? Was he out with friends?

Her phone chimed as she pulled into her parking space. It was a text from Harry. A link to a song. She smiled as she put her headphones on to listen.

***

Are you busy?

Three little words and her heart started racing.

It had been a few days since her impromptu coffee with Harry, they’d talked even more than usual. Penny woke up to texts from Harry – songs, random musings, once, a funny YouTube video – and his messages were also what lulled her to sleep. She wasn’t sure what to call this new stage, but felt that friendship was a good start.

Penny counted to twenty before responding. Not really. What do you need?

She could see him typing in the message thread.

I’m working today and am a little stuck on something. I wanted to get your advice. A voice note followed the message. Take a listen and let me know what you think.

Penny’s phone burned hot in her hand with the knowledge of what that message contained. She rose from her desk, searched for her earbuds and rushed off to find a quiet spot in the office to listen to the note. In the dim hallway that led the kitchen, she pushed her earbuds in and turned up the volume before pressing play.

It was an unfinished demo, but despite the rough nature of the recording, she could tell this song was something special. It started off with a strong drum section before Harry’s vocals came in. His higher register, smoother than ever. She closed her eyes, Even with shitty discount earbuds she could feel the beat pulsing, throbbing, echoing within her. It was magic. When it finished playing, she hit play again, focusing on the lyrics this time through. Phrases about shining, stepping into the light, recurred throughout, and while it was beyond her to speculate the meaning of the lyrics, they felt deeply personal. The kind of personal that everyone could relate to. The hallmark of a good song.

She listened a third time for good measure before typing out her response. Initial reaction, I love it. On more listens, it feels like the bass and drums might be a little too much. There’s an intimacy to this song and you don’t want to lose that. Find a way to balance the two and you’ve got a hit.

Harry’s reply came quickly. You’re exactly right! Thanks!

Any time.

“Penny?”

She looked up from her phone to see Darren in front of her, mug in hand, clearly on his way to get some of the paltry excuse for coffee kept in the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

She searched her brain for a reason she’d be standing in a dark hallway with her headphones. “I was taking a call,” she finally said. “It was a little noisy in the main room and I just needed some quiet.”

“OK, well that’s what we have the call booths for. Keep that in mind.” Darren stared at her and Penny prayed he wouldn’t be able to sniff out the real reason she was there.

“I should go,” she said, dashing towards her desk.

“All good?” Chloe asked, taking in the panic on Penny’s phase.

“You-know-who almost caught me with a demo the other you-know-who sent me,” Penny said, voice low.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, it was a little too close for comfort.”

“Why?”

Penny turned around in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s think this through,” Chloe said. “Why are you so concerned about Darren finding out what you know?”

“Because it’s an ethics issue.”

“Why is it an ethics issue?”

“Because I know Harry. We’ve gotten drinks together.”

“OK, yes,” Chloe prompted. “But how is that any different from you getting drinks with Paul at a networking event and then quoting him in a piece? Or when you went to dinner with those investors that were funding that new streaming startup and then wrote a story?”

“It’s just different. My brother’s best friend didn’t introduce me to them.”

“But he did introduce you to Janice and you quoted her.”

“I-that’s not the same and you know it.”

“You want to know what I think?” Chloe asked.

“Not particularly.”

“I think that three weeks ago you thought this scheme was a great idea but then you actually spent time with Harry and now you care about him and you don’t want him to know you were using him and you also don’t want to risk your reputation.”

Penny scoffed. “You are so off base.”

“Am I? You haven’t looked me in the eye since you sat down and your hands are shaking. You’re lying and we both know it.”

“It’s not what you think,” Penny said. “I didn’t want Darren to know because if he gets ahold of the story he’ll probably kill it and I don’t want that to happen. I’m saving it for one of our editorial meetings so I can have Skylar there as backup.” She hoped the lie sounded more convincing than it felt.

“Sure,” Chloe said. “Do you want to get drinks after work tonight?” she asked, smartly changing the subject.

Penny nodded in agreement, but inside she was wondering why she was so scared to tell her best friend the truth.

***

Penny paced in her kitchen keeping an eye on her phone on the counter, willing it to light up with a new notification. It had been three days since Harry had shared his demo, forcing her  to confront the emotions that had been brewing inside of her for the past few months.

She’d reached out a couple of times. First to ask how the rest of his studio session went, and then to share some more songs and music videos she liked. And when those went unanswered, she reached out again, asking if everything was OK only to be met with radio silence. She was fairly certain that nothing was wrong, but concern lurked in the back of her mind, and after a few more minutes of pacing, she grabbed her phone and keys and headed for her car.

She scrolled through her messages until she found Harry’s address which she programmed into her GPS. When she pulled up to the gate, she pressed the buzzer. Then hit it again. And again. And again. Finally, she heard Harry’s voice through the crackly speaker.

“Hello?” His voice sounded different than usual and she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the speaker or something else.

“Uh, it’s Penny. I hadn’t heard from you and was a little nervous since we were supposed to go to that show tonight?”

“Oh, fuck. Come on in.”

She heard a loud buzz and then the gates parted, allowing her to drive in. She glanced at the landscaping as she drove up the path. It was nice and well-maintained, definitely not by him, and she appreciated the views the property offered. She put the car in park in front of the garage. Harry was standing on the front stoop waiting for her.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked, voice gravely even without the interference of the intercom. “I came down with this spring flu or something. I’ve been out of commission for a few days.”

“Don’t apologize. I was just worried.” Shit. That wasn’t what she meant to say. “Like just since we had these tickets. I wasn’t sure if you still wanted them or…”

“Yeah, of course. I honestly don’t think I’m up for a show tonight. I’m better, but still not 100%.”

“No, I get it.” Penny rocked back and forth on her feet. “Do you want some company?”

Harry paused. “What about the show?”

“One of my friends had been asking about the tickets. I can give them to her.” It felt wrong to go if Harry wasn’t there, not that she’d ever admit that to him.

“Uh, sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Come on in. It’s a little messy.”

Penny followed him inside, toeing off her shoes in the front hall. She padded behind Harry as he led her into a den. The large sectional was covered in pillows and blankets and he cleared a spot off on one side of the couch, making room for Penny.

“Make yourself at home,” Harry said, a sniffle punctuating his statement.

“Can I get you anything?” Penny asked.

“You're my guest. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“But you’re sick.”

Harry shrugged. “There’s water, juice, beer, and wine in the kitchen. There might be some ginger ale left as well.”

“Ooh my favorite.”

“Help yourself. I’ll have one too.”

Penny grabbed a couple of cans from the fridge, trying not to gawk at the gourmet kitchen around her. “Ice?” she called over her shoulder.

“No thanks.”

She handed Harry one of the cans and they popped the tabs in synchronicity, grinning at their timing.

“Should we be drinking to your health?” Penny asked, before sipping from the can.

Harry grinned. “I can use any and all well wishes. This just knocked me out. I can’t remember the last time I was that sick.” He shuddered as if reliving a traumatic memory.

“It must have been pretty rough. I was worried about not hearing from you.” That was a normal thing to say, right? Penny was suddenly second guessing her words. “I mean just because we had the plans for the show,” she quickly explained.

“No, I apologize. I wasn’t really with it for a couple of days and was pretty useless. Thankfully I had some people looking out for me.”

At that moment, there was nothing Penny wanted to know more than who these people were. “That’s nice. I’m assuming Jeff stopped by?”

Harry nodded. “And Glenne. They brought me some soup and bread. Glenne is Jeff’s girlfriend,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

“And now you are stopping by. I’ve clearly got a village looking after me.”

“Um, yeah.” Penny didn’t know what was wrong with her. On the drive over, she’d been filled with thoughts of what she’d say when she saw Harry, but now that she was with him her mind was blank. “How does it work when you're sick? Like do you have to take a sick day?” What the fuck kind of question was that, she thought to herself. She took a sip of ginger ale.

“Uh, like not really. Sometimes I try to work through it but since we aren’t on a hard deadline I just tried to take it easy. Figured taking a few days off might also help me get in a better place creatively.” He stroked his chin. “Not sure that worked but I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Penny stared at Harry until she realized it was her turn to speak. “I do a similar thing when I have writer’s block.”

Harry looked at her questioningly. “Get sick?”

“No, like, try to take a break.” She took another sip of her drink. “This is weird. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m just going to head out.” She rose from the couch.

“Why is it weird?” Harry asked, voice still strained from his illness. “We were going to the show tonight, why can’t we just hang out here instead? Watch a movie or something? Play a board game?”

Penny laughed. “A board game?”

“I happen to be a next level Scrabble player.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nodded. “And I can prove it to you if you’ll stay and play with me.”

Penny rubbed her thumb along her can, catching a drop of condensation. What did this mean – the two of them hanging out together without a concert or shop talk as a buffer. The two of them alone in Harry’s house altered the stakes in a significant way. The lines between source and friend and whatever else was lurking in the background were significantly blurred and she felt like she was playing with fire. “Sure,” she said. “Just let me send these tickets to Chloe so someone can make use of them.”

“Great! I’ll find the game.”

Just as Penny pressed the transfer button, Harry reappeared, a worn and well-loved Scrabble box in his hand. “Get comfortable, I’m serious,” he said, easing down onto the floor and setting the Scrabble board up on the coffee table.

Penny shrugged off her cardigan, laying it on the couch behind her before joining Harry on the floor. “How does this work?”

“You’ve never played?” he asked incredulously as Penny shook her head. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Penny laughed. “I just never played. I’m honestly not a huge board game person.”

“I can’t believe I let you into my house,” Harry deadpanned. “Not a board game person! Madness!”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and teach me how to play.”

Harry started explaining the rules as finished setting up the pieces and Penny tried not to giggle at his excitement and the way he tripped over his words as he laid everything out for her. It wasn’t a complicated game and Penny quickly caught on, relishing the few times she was able to land a double or triple word score, much to Harry’s chagrin.

“I thought you said you hadn’t played before!” he exclaimed.

“I haven’t!”

“How are you so good?”

“Harry, I write for a living and it’s a word game, not fucking brain surgery.”

“Beginner’s luck!”

“Or maybe I’m just better than you!”

They were in the middle of their second game before Penny realized that they hadn’t said a thing about their jobs. No mention of new albums or concerts or studio executives or editors. And the conversation managed to feel easy. It felt like she was with someone she’d known forever, and she loved how comforting that felt.

As they were finishing up the game, Penny could see that Harry’s energy was waning. His laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore and he seemed a little dazed after a couple of coughing fits. “Would you want to switch to a movie or something?” she suggested gently.

“That would be nice,” he relented after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m going to make some tea before, though. Would you like some?”

“Sure, I can help.”

Harry looked like he was about to protest but after glancing at Penny, he abandoned whatever he was about to say, gesturing for her to lead the way. They stood side by side in the kitchen as the water boiled, and Penny tried not to shiver when Harry’s hand grazed hers as he handed her a teabag. Beverages in hand, they made their way back to the couch. Harry stretched out, fishing for the remote among the cushions and Penny plopped down across from him. Harry flicked through the various films available turning to Penny every so often to gauge her opinion before finally settling on a comedy they’d both seen before.

For the first half of the film, they made each other laugh, reciting the memorable lines along with the actors on screen, but after an hour or so, Penny heard an odd noise coming from where Harry was sprawled. His head was resting on the arm of the couch and he had his arms folded over his chest, as if he was trying to curl into himself. His chest rose and fell evenly as soft snores came from his lips. The moment felt too intimate and Penny felt as though she should avert her eyes. But try as she might, she couldn’t.

This was the Harry she’d gotten to know over the past few weeks, the one who was vulnerable and second guessed himself and who cared about things so deeply he let them consume him. The one who looked out for those around him and was surprised when people did the same for him. The Harry who wanted to be her friend.

In that moment, everything clicked for Penny and she felt like she was seeing clearly for the first time in weeks. She couldn’t betray Harry. She’d figure out another way to deal with Darren and find the career changing scoop, but she couldn’t risk losing Harry. If she was this concerned about not hearing from him for three days, what would happen if he was out of her life forever?

Penny wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with her newfound clarity, but being in Harry’s presence in the wake of the revelation felt suffocating. She needed to get out of his house. Gingerly, she reached over to turn the television off before placing a blanket over his sleeping form. She grabbed her cardigan and shoved her feet in her shoes only to open the door and come face to face with Jeff.

“Heeeyyy,” he said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi!” Penny said quickly, stepping out onto the porch and gently closing the door behind her. “How are you?”

“Fine. I-I don’t mean to be rude but I’m just confused as to what you’re doing here.” Jeff laughed lightly.

“So Harry and I were supposed to go to a concert tonight but I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days and when I texted him about meeting up he didn’t respond and I was a little worried so I came over to check on him.” The words all came out in a weird, breathy, rushed whisper.

“Right,” Jeff said slowly. “Why are you whispering?”

“Because Harry’s asleep.” Penny’s eyes widened hearing her own words. “He fell asleep. After we played Scrabble. And watched a movie. I think he’s still on the mend.”

“You hung out with him?”

Penny nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t plan on staying but he invited me in and it seemed like he wanted company sooo…”

“Yeah, no that’s great,” Jeff said. “I’ve just been checking in on him on my way home each night and I know some others have too but I was just surprised to see you here.” He grinned. “Quite different from how things were a month ago.”

“Mhmm,” was all Penny could get out. “I should probably go.” She darted around Jeff and half walked half jogged down the path, fishing for her keys in her bag while she did so. When she managed to unlock the door, she gave Jeff a casual wave before driving off.

“They just need to fuck,” Jeff said to himself, shaking his head before heading inside.

Harry was jolted awake by the sound of the front door closing, and looked around the room confused as to where his companion had gone. “Penny?” he rasped.

“Nope, just me,” Jeff said, poking his head around the corner. “Don’t mean to disappoint you.”

“You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Jeffrey. Penny was just here earlier and I just assumed...”

“I know, I ran into her on the way out.”

Harry frowned as he ran his hand through his messy curls. “She left without saying goodbye.”

Jeff shrugged. “I guess. She said you were asleep and looked like she was in a rush. Maybe she had better things to do than watch the guy who refuses to admit he’s in love with her sleep for two hours.”

“I -”

“Don’t fight it, H. We all see it.”

“There’s nothing to see, Jeffrey.”

Jeff sat down on the edge of the coffee table looking Harry directly in the eye. “H, I’ve known you a long time and because of that, I’d like to think I know you better than most. Something’s been going on with you this year. You’ve been…off. You said Japan was going to reset you but it didn’t seem like it worked. I mean the way you treated Penny those first couple of times.” He exhaled. “That wasn’t you. But the past few weeks, it’s like a switch has been flipped. You’re writing again, you seem happy, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened after you’ve gotten to know Penny.”

Harry refused to meet Jeff’s eyes, keeping his gaze on the wall behind him. “I feel like Penny understands me in a way no one else does. It’s like I don’t even have to explain things to her. She just gets it, gets me. But that’s it.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

Jeff pursed his lips. “So if she wanted to go to dinner and then…I don’t know…have sex after you’d say no? Since you all are ‘just friends.’” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said the last two words. “If she said you should call it a date instead of dinner, you wouldn’t want that?”

“Yeah.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, H.”

Harry turned his head and looked Jeff dead in the eye. “Penny and I are just friends and I don’t want to sleep with her. Or date her.”

Jeff held his gaze. “You’ve always been a shit liar, H.”

***

Penny couldn’t sleep that night, her mind replaying her day with Harry again and again. She knew what she needed to do now, but that didn’t make things any easier.

She couldn’t move forward with the article…that was a given. But Harry…she didn’t know what to do about him. There was no way he could feel the same about her. He just couldn’t. And to put herself out there? Be that vulnerable with him? Now that was a recipe for disaster.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. But as she counted sheep, all she could think of was how much she wished Harry were lying next to her.

***

talk to me! || join the taglist || story inspo

taglist: @harrysfolklore​ @platinumbarbie143​ @majasophieanna​ @lukesaprince​ @styles217​ @andwhenshesays​ @be-with-me-so-happily​ @hslllot​ @b-reads-things​ @awesomenavy​ @sweetwanderlust05​ @permanentllyharry​ @reveriehs @very-berry-harry​ 

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I know, he is such a dick. But I still love him.

Fellow tweam member, you're worth more than this and I really want you to see that and give yourself the respect you deserve.

It took me a long time to find my own sense of self-respect and I'm willing to share it. I went through a horrible breakup 2 years ago. He chose to party with friends he had known for about two months while I was recovering from a suicide attempt, we lived together for about 2 months post-breakup and it was a constant barrage of how I ruined everything, but he was still down to have sex and I was so desperate to have any positive attention that I agreed thinking it was a sign that maybe he'd want me back if he thought I was pretty and desirable enough. He ran off to a whole different state where he knew nobody. When he was lonely and wanted attention he knew he could get it from me and I would give it to him. He visited one time and at 11pm the night before he was leaving to his new state and asked me to meet up in a parking lot where we hooked up. He told me he started dating again. We kept in contact and he asked for nudes which I would send and then he completely ghosted me when he found a new gf. That was October of last year. Silence until June of this year. He texts me and says he's in town and wants to meet up. Still doesn't respect me because he waited until the day before he was leaving and at 10:30 at night to meet up. He wanted to apologize for ghosting me. Ghosting me. Not for abandoning me at my lowest, not for betraying me, not for all the cruel things he said, not for using me. I wrote a letter that basically said he played mind games, abandoned me, and betrayed me, and I do not forgive him. I see now that the first night he went to party that my friend and I should've moved all his stuff out onto the driveway and told him to leave. I lacked so much self-respect in hopes this crusty dusty dude would give me a crumb of validation and it always ended with me feeling used and discarded once he got what he wanted. I used to not want to block him because I thought,"what if he's in an emergency and nobody else is answering?" Well, that's his problem to figure out and he has his friends who are worth more to him than his partner of 3.5 years was when she needed him there most. He's blocked and I am not looking back.

Someone out there will give you the proper respect that you deserve which this guy is incapable of giving you. And ultimately, YOU deserve to give YOURSELF the respect you deserve.

i’m so sorry you went through that anon, but it’s a hell of a testimony many people need to hear. i’m glad you stood up for yourself and didn’t let that failure of a human rob you of any more of your time. many of us have had to deal with the fallout of our low points, and the things we accepted from others in the absence of our own self love. you can only grow from that, which you clearly have. so thank you for sharing 💗

[rollercoasterwords]

Yes yes yes to all of your points about jegulus and the capitalism of fandom as a whole. I find the whole thing so interesting in a mildly terrifying way lmao

One thing I’ve noticed with jegulus on TikTok that I’ve never really registered seeing with another ship (tho I could obviously be wrong, thx algorithm) is that people advertise their fics in a way I’ve not really seen before in forms of countdowns and trailers pre posting. And yes be proud of what you’ve created, I am the biggest supporter of tooting your own horn but sometimes it feels a little… off to me. Like almost like people are viewing fic writing as becoming ‘content creators’ and trying to go viral with these pieces of work in the same way that art and TikToks goes viral. And with the marauders and jegulus in particular being such a TikTok heavy fandom (as you pointed out in your essay) maybe that’s why it’s more apparent, because a lot more people interacting with this subsection of the fandom have been ‘raised’ (for lack of a better word) to view the internet as a place where the point is to go viral and become well known, so to create art for the sake of creation is an entirely alien concept. So why would you not make a trailer for your story and post it half a dozen times to TikTok?

And then pair that with jegulus having fewer works than bigger ships which means that the ‘bigger’ fics are known and read by the majority, which ultimately means that people have a better chance of going ‘viral’ if they post a story with that pairing compared to wolfstar where the competition is higher.

I’ve never really kept a track of these fics that are advertised and hyped up before chapters are posted, but I would be interested in how many are abandoned if and when the author doesn’t get a barrage of kudos and comments, and the subsequent serotonin boost with it.

Sorry this ask doesn’t really have much of a point or direction, (and I’m not even sure if it even made much sense ☠️) it’s just something I’ve been noticing with increasing frequency recently and I was wondering if you had any thoughts, as you write your points and arguments so well!!

anon i literally want to kiss u on the mouth u brought up sooooo many good points!! yes i have so so so many thoughts about this maybe i need to make a separate post bc like....ive talked so much about the way that like. people interact as readers with the like tiktok/social media/influencer mindset but ive definitely seen it crop up with people who write fanfic too. and the thing is bc there aren't really cleanly delineated boundaries between readers + writers of fanfic (like....most of the writers are also readers, and many of the readers are also writers) it definitely comes from both sides.

i think for anyone who has like. internalized this mentality that art must be validated by an audience to be worthwhile and that you can only be Seen by turning urself into content for consumption it's very easy to approach fanfiction with a mindset stuck in a consumer economy. and like. that isn't a moral failing, because we are literally all being conditioned to think of any creative pursuit as something that is only worthwhile if it can be turned into Profitable Content. but i DO think it's important to recognize when we're falling into that mindset, because fanfiction is so antithetical to it. and also just like....i don't think any of these people who are approaching fanfiction with this underlying idea that they need to curate an audience for validation will be able to find deep or lasting joy, because if your primary motivation in writing is just to get as many eyes on it as possible, then like....idk. it will never be enough. there will always be someone with a more popular story, with more people reading it.

and like. i actually mentioned this in my little tiktokification essay that escaped confinement, and i got a bunch of responses of people in the tags or reblogs going "there is NOTHING WRONG with wanting to share your work and wanting people to read it!!!" and i was like...i didn't say there was anything wrong with it?? i said if your primary motivation in creating art is just to get as many eyes on it as possible, you probably will not find lasting joy in the creation of that art. so :/

anyway now i think i want to write another essay so thank u for that anon lmao

[wronghoroscopes]

Marionette and Titan 1

Sorry I haven't posted for awhile, I'm working on posting more. Please leave tips in the comments if I made a mistake in my writing that should be corrected.

Warnings: violence, guns, possible death(?), explosions

**No romance or ships**

“We’ll sneak in and position ourselves here and here.” Hummingbird placed two tokens on the map. “Our team is small, but intel says Cetus won’t be there. Even so, it’s best if we’re out quickly. Only us four were cleared for the mission, so everyone has to do their part. Any questions?” Techno’s hand went up.

“We know Cetus is busy with the territory disputes, but what if the sidekick is there?” Titan frowned, none of the others did so, but they appeared to agree with the sentiment, Cetus’s sidekick was creepy. Which was saying a lot since Cetus herself was most likely insane. Cetus’s sidekick, a villain named “Marionette” (or “Puppet Master” depending on your news source), was almost as bad as the villain herself. Cetus may be able to create explosions out of whatever she touches at will, but Marionette has the ability to control people’s movements like dolls. Cetus plagued the nightmares of many heroes with her bloodlust and uneven smile, and Marionette’s silence only added to the duo's creep factor. Titan could understand the concern, an unknown like Marionette being around would add a lot more risk. Cetus’s forces were not to be taken lightly even without Cetus and Marionette. 

+++++++++++++

The warehouse lay dark before Titan, their enhanced senses didn’t reveal any movement. Hummingbird signaled for A team to advance, soon Titan and Firestorm were in position. Hummingbird requested everyone’s status before they entered. The only information of note was from Techno, scans showed most loading containers in the warehouse were lined with lead. So unless someone stood in just the right spot, heat signatures were useless. A great start.

When B team radioed the all clear, Titan carefully pushed the large front door slightly ajar. They grit their teeth as the rusty metal scraped against the concrete ground. As A team entered, B team, consisting of Hummingbird and Firestorm, slipped down from the newly melted hole in the roof. The large space was silent after the last hero, Titan themself, came through the giant steel doors. The groups fanned out to find, well, anything. Firestorm was about to open the first shipping container when a bullet ripped straight through his hand. Everyone reacted instantly, diving for cover and pulling out weapons or summoning powers. An alarm sounded from somewhere and red lights started flashing. Only Firestorm hadn’t managed to find cover, he stood half bent over in front of the container. Titan cursed, they couldn’t leave him in the open.

A barrage of bullets rained down around them as Titan dashed to Firestorm’s side. By a miracle Titan wasn’t hit, but it wasn’t the time to thank their lucky stars. They snapped the lock off the shipping container Firestorm was in front of and dragged one of the doors open. A stray bullet made an indent in Titan’s shoulder when they attempted to find cover behind the steel. Titan grimaced in slightly, but still managed to pull the door almost completely closed for relative safety. Even with enhanced endurance, being shot wasn’t an enjoyable ordeal. The interior of the oversized box was filled almost to the brim with what was probably stolen goods in metal crates with electronic locks. Titan attempted to examine Firestorm’s hand but he’d recovered enough to wave them off.

Outside, and barely out of the open, Techno lifted a hand and one of her drones flew up to disable one of the turrets that’d emerged from the ceiling above. As soon as the drone left the relative safety of her crate however, several bullets obliterated it.

At least two dozen guards emerged from wherever they were hiding on the catwalks all around the warehouse. Any hope Titan had of everyone escaping unscathed vanished. Hummingbird shouted orders over the comms and the team responded at once. Techno’s bots launched a counterattack as Techno and Hummingbird began slowly inching their way closer to a ladder leading to the catwalks above. 

Firestorm and Titan watched the bullets rain down from inside their container. Hummingbird had clearly stated for the two of them to stay under cover for now, it was too dangerous at the moment for the two of them to be out in the open with Titan’s shoulder and Firestorm’s hand. But this was too much. Completely disregarding their leader’s orders, Firestorm started pushing the container’s door open. Titan followed him into the fray without a second thought. 

Techno covered for their leader as Hummingbird flew up the ladder up to their enemies. At the same time Titan launched themself into one of the ceiling turrets. The man inside the plane-styled turret bubble didn’t even have time to scream before Titan punched through the heavily enforced glass. Jumping down Titan saw turrets in the other three corners of the room. A column of fire blazed past them as Firestorm pushed back a guard who’d clearly been aiming for Titan. Paying no mind, Titan again attempted to launch themselves across the room at another turret. This time though, the turret they’d been aiming for was prepared. A large projectile managed to hit Titan this time. They felt a sharp pain across their ribs. It had splintered into an unknown amount of shrapnel on impact. Whatever the turrets were loaded with were meant to cause as much pain and damage as they possibly could. 

+++++++++

The hero team slowly converged back toward the front doors, original mission forgotten. Titan covered the team from behind the cover of a stack of crates. They’d been hit too many times to continue jumping around after taking out the third turret. The last remaining turret still shot at the team from a far corner of the room. Titan ducked away from their cover and dashed between two shipping containers. After a moment of deliberation Titan climbed atop one of them. Another large box shielded them from the turret, and most of the guards had either left the catwalk or were out of the fight. The mission had gone sideways and it was time to leave. The longer the battle drew out, the higher the chances were of being caught. Titan started army crawling unseen across containers to meet up with their team. They were still under fire right up until the Titan caught sight of the glossy black glass mask below them. It was the only thing they needed to see for Titan to know the situation had taken a turn for the worse.

It only took a moment for the heroes to be twitching on the ground. Marionette’s glowing purple energy could be seen on his fingertips and on the spines of the helpless heroes. The villain stopped a few feet from the group and surveyed their captured prey. With a slight adjustment of his fingertips, all the heroes stopped twitching and went completely limp. Titan hunkered down on their shipping container and tried to think of a plan. It wouldn’t help their team if they were caught as well. It didn’t look good for the heroes, unable to move in the open with the remains of Techno’s drones scattered around. Firestorm, half behind a crate, summoned a flame in their uninjured hand. It was obvious he was planning to shoot it at them from the ground even if he couldn’t move, but Marionette acted first. With only a twitch of his pinky finger, all of Firestorm’s muscles locked. That purple glow extended to all of Firestorm’s joints. It appeared as if Marionette couldn’t control the nervous system. That, at least, was a slight relief. 

The villain’s wrist jerked and all of the heroes but Titan were pulled further into the open by the purple glow. It surprised Titan that bullets didn’t immediately begin raining down on the helpless heroes. Titan snuck between containers, trying to get around Marionette. It stood to reason that Cetus’ sidekick only knew about the three heroes he’d caught as Titan slipped off the container to his right. At least Cetus didn’t seem to be in the area, she loved to be hands on when hurting heroes. Not a lot was known about Cetus’s and Marionette’s work relationship, but there’s been a few instances where Marionette had clearly not been in the loop. Titan hoped that lack of communication carried on Cetus’s guards. Marionette seemed to be searching his pocket for something while his gloved hand that controlled the heroes stayed extended. Finally he produced what looked like a little remote. That couldn’t be good. Titan lunged as the villain pressed a button. The sidekick barely managed to dodge the punch they aimed at him but immediately needed to block the kick that followed. As he was pushed back, the heroes on the ground jumped to their feet.

Marionette darted left away from Titan but they pursued. An explosion sounded from their right, probably one of Hummingbird’s bombs. Titan was about to throw another punch when Marionette turned and extended a hand slightly. At first nothing happened, but when they attempted to move they found it impossible. It felt like all of Titan’s joints were welded together. With a twitch of his thumb, the criminal had Titan on the ground. The hero’s eyes widened when Marionette pulled out a gun with his free hand and repocketed the remote. Normally being shot wouldn’t be an issue, but they’d already been hit one-too-many times and they were at Marionette’s mercy. Even the strongest supers would probably die if shot in the eye. In the back of their mind Titan realized that the sound of gunfire had started again and Marionette’s gun had a yellow trigger. Time slowed to a crawl. On the ground Titan could only watch as Marionette aimed a bullet. They closed their eyes. 

Another explosion burst nearby and Titan found themself able to move again. Hummingbird had thrown their next bomb right at Marionette’s feet. Jumping up, Titan surveyed the scene. Hummingbird was above everyone, blasting away any enemy she saw with her explosives and one of her twin pistols. Firestorm was somewhere near the far right corner shooting off fireballs, and Techno had rallied her drones and acted as support to any teammate in need of assistance. Everyone was fighting their best but the enemy forces also rallied themselves and how they pushed the heroes back was slowly wearing them down. Turning back to Marionette, Titan saw the villain had been thrown back almost two yards by the explosion and was picking himself up. 

Not wanting to be passed up by any of their teammates, Titan decided to press the advantage. Before Marionette could get past his knees, Titan attacked. 

The only reason the villain didn’t catch the fist Titan threw in his skull was because he collapsed again. Titan was concerned for their opponent’s wellbeing, they were surprisingly small up close, until he attempted to shoot Titan in the gut, the only reason the shot went wild was that Titan had managed to slap the gun out of the way just in time. Their target scampered a few feet away, pausing to see if Titan would follow. Not wanting the criminal to escape, Titan made chase. Before they got far however, they collapsed. Just as how their team had been trapped earlier, purple glowed at the base of their neck and they couldn’t move, it was impossible for Titan to even tense their muscles with the villain’s grip on his spine. Without realizing it, Titan had fallen straight into Marionette’s trap. Their comm crackled to life, as soon as Firestorm blasted away the doors the heroes were going to run. Titan realized all too late that the team hadn’t noticed their absence, and they couldn’t lift their hand to their comm to alert them. Titan could only watch in dred as Marionette lifted his gun again and shot. Everything slowly lost focus as whatever Marionette shot into them took effect. The last thing they saw was Marionette’s blank black mask.

With the gun’s silencer, Titan’s team hadn’t even heard the gunshot. It was only when Hummingbird noticed that they weren't with them, several miles away, did she realize Titan never left the building.

[rayventhegm]

On Rayven Day

A long post about finding gainful employment.

One year ago, I declared the first Rayven Day.

It wasn’t my birthday, or anything special, really. Just had a long holiday break from the combined Christmas and New Year, thus wasn’t feeling enthusiastic about going back to work. So, I declared it a fake holiday, and had at least a few people humor me and wish me a ‘Happy Rayven Day!’ back. Felt kinda nice, like I had spawned a tiny inside joke.

I didn’t get those holidays, this year. Don’t misunderstand, I got my weekends - two days off, in a row, each week - but that’s it. Had to work Christmas, New Years, and both the Eve of those days. I’m getting a paycheck, sure, and I’m lucky to be employed. But it’s put me in a reflective mood.

My last job left me feeling stuck. Despite getting a few promotions over ten years, I had essentially the same entry-level job. I know this is a complaint many people have had, and I should have been thankful for the steady work, but the grind began to feel unbearable.

Also, I wasn’t technically out as trans.

Of course, I had to explain a few things to management. Only those few. But apparently pitching my voice was enough to tip people off, or maybe it was our clients who got confused. So eventually, I started getting called different pronouns from my peers. My supervisor told me to switch all my accounts to the nickname I stared to use – even though I didn’t see other co-workers who used nicknames get that treatment.

But maybe none of that mattered, maybe I was paranoid for no reason and should have given that conservative company a chance. This story is already starting to sound far too self-pitying, after so many others have been cracked under the combined weight of a pandemic and corporate price-gouging.

Let’s talk about the new job, then. Those who know me well have already been told I drive a paratransit bus. Sorry, there’s no bootstraps story of starting my own ingenious business or going to school and learning a hot new in-demand skill. I just went with the first job I could that I knew would support my half of the rent.

In some ways, it’s not that different. Constant barrage of people in need, day in and day out. But it’s a change I needed; I suppose. Many people switch jobs. Often several times in a single year, which makes two jobs in one decade seem like nothing. But this change always seemed impossible for me, no matter what I tried before. Maybe I don’t interview well. Maybe I’m just in a weird middle ground of being over-qualified for jobs available and under-qualified for what I want. But this new job took me.

And it’s union.

Not that means it’s perfect, by far. Lots of folks here don’t actually like the union. But I’m already appreciating the structure that it gives, the consistent benefits.

And I’ve made a trans friend at work. That’s something I just never did in the past ten years.

So… happy Rayven Day. Maybe next year I will get to celebrate a real holiday.

[failsafes-guardian]

Who is Charlotte - The Guardian (The Destiny 2 Concept, not the News Website)

Okay, now we're at least getting into the characters themselves. Feel free to skip this if you just want to read interactions between Charlotte and Failsafe (and sometimes Cayde) but if you want the backstory both IC and OOC for her, keep on reading.

Okay, first question, who is Charlotte? - Charlotte is my Hunter in Destiny 2, she is the Female Exo that I created in 2020 when I first started playing the game. Well, who is Charlotte, IC? - She's a Guardian! She does guardian things, like murder cabal and vex, go on raids and participate in vanguard activities! She's somewhat calculated in her actions but still able to come up with new plans on the fly if something goes wrong, she keeps emotionally distant unless she gets close to someone, she doesn't get her humanity. Wait what was that last one? - Ah yes, Charlotte, being an Exo, was once human, probably, she doesn't remember! She can't remember what her life before being an exo was, and commonly questions what it means to be human and what it means to be alive. On the more, fun side of her, she loves hand cannons and knives (being a blade barrage user and all), her favorite Exotic is The Ace of Spades (i'll get into how she got that later) and Outbreak Perfected comes in at a very close second. You might have noticed the icon for this blog is a failsafe based emblem and uh, not an exo face. That's because Charlotte never likes to remove her helmet. (As my friend called it, Robot Dysphoria) Her cloak (Memory of Cayde, i'll get there, don't worry) is also pretty much always on with the hood up as well, she likes it that way. Okay, okay, I'll get to the elephant in the room, what's the deal with Cayde in this blog? Cayde is still alive, the events of Forsaken simply did not happen despite a bunch of other stuff having happened past that, I'll probably try and make a full timeline later. How does Charlotte relate to Cayde? - Cayde trained Charlotte when she joined the Vanguard as a guardian, was he supposed to? Not really, but he took a liking to her style and decided to take her under his wing and show her how to get things done his way. This helped develop her own style, albeit with a lot of his personal techniques thrown in. Okay, so, how did Charlotte get The Ace of Spades and the Memory of Cayde cloak if Cayde is still alive and well? - Simple! He gave her the Ace of Spades as a gift for completing her first big Raid! Sure, he wasn't exactly excited to give it up, but he knew it was in good hands, and Charlotte has been proving him right ever since. Now, the cloak is a little different, He didn't give it to her, she had it made by Ada-1 as a way to always feel like Cayde was there. Even when he wasn't on comms to support her, she could always feel the cloak on her back and knew he was supporting her on her adventure. Okay, this post is getting really long, let me wrap it up with some quick little notes I've written down over the past like month. - She loves food, particularly ramen (thanks Cayde) and likes to take her few friends out to eat every now and again. - She has a notebook! She writes in it a lot, and sometimes does lil shitty doodles. - She got INTJ-A on that test that's like zodiac but for boys. - She likes going Solo on a lot of her missions, but works well enough with a team to get by on the big stuff. - Charlotte has no number designation (that anyone knows of, yet) Sorry for the long post, very long. I need to work on rambling less, but hopefully this is everything you'd want to know about Charlotte!

If not, I have an ask box! You can submit questions to me and i'll answer them! (provided they're relevant)

[ssatxr-archive-2]

{ post is cut for length <3 }

@104thsquadfam proposed:

"Are you a-alright, Midnight?"

The man asked the Satyrian woman as he remained over her body, shielding and protecting her from the falling debris around them as the old structure struggled to stay upright. The constant barrage of Thunder Spears around them outside didn't help their situation and he knew he couldn't leave Midnight in this building for much longer...the damn thing was close to collapsing he had to move her now....only problem was he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open and he felt this unbearable throbbing pain in his abdomen.

Glancing down the Scout quickly noticed what was causing all his pain, a broken piece of wood sticking out of him...must have been from the explosion earlier, he was glad he got here in time to protect Midnight. Hazel eyes shifted to look over the woman beneath him, aside from some cut, scrapes and bruises she seemed to be fine.

What a relief...

He thought to himself before he quickly turned his head away from her as he coughed harshly, blood splattering against the wood floors staining them red " You...can't s-stay here." he finally managed to groan out once he stopped coughing. Slowly he pushed himself up to his feet stumbling for a moment before he found his footing, ignoring the pain that reverberated through his entire body. He was entirely focused on his mission, although a personal mission.

" I-I need to...get you to safety..." he hissed out as he moved to pull her to her feet and held onto her hand as he stumbled through the unstable house, making his way towards the back door where they made their little escape...and not a moment sooner the house caved in behind them, it's a good thing they moved when they did.

Continuing forward the Scout ignored any protest from the Satyrian until they finally made it to a safer location far enough from the fight, so long as no one followed them she should be fine to stay here " Here...you'll be...safe....here." he panted as he pulled her with what strength he had left to hide behind one of the buildings.

" I'm sorry..." he apologized as he leaned his body against the wall and slowly slid down, sitting on the ground now with his hand holding the wood that was lodged in his abdomen " I don't think...I can protect you anymore....I just...I wanted to keep you...safe. You know....I'm glad I m-met you...Midnight, I'm glad I...got to share my f-feelings for you....but I don't think....I don't think I'll be....recovering from this...so thank you...for l-letting me love you....and for being...here for me." Jean confessed finding it harder and harder to speak as his body weakened more and more and he knew this was the last time he would get to speak to the her.

It's feels...cold, is this how Marco felt? I have so much more to say but I can't get myself to talk...I don't even feel the pain anymore...everything is so numb. I can't even move my hands...that sucks...I really wanted to hold her one last time.

Jean thought to himself as his eyes slowly closed, his chest falling still as he let out his last breath.

The yelling, the destruction, and the mere feeling of numbness from her chest simply made time tick slower and slower each passing moment. She couldn't tell if it was from her own lack of blood, or if Ares decided to be merciful, she could not decide. As Jean stood over her, her eyes finally opened, they widened as the sickening sound of wood piercing through his chest and barely grazing herself echoed.

Midnight struggled to protest, being weak herself as Jean carried her to safety. The Satyrian choked out a noise finally, only to be silenced as Jean spoke his tiring words. Her eyes narrowed, suddenly finding the strength to hold onto him for dear life now-- not for her own, but for his.

"Jean--Jean please don't leave me alone. I-I can help you--I can take you to Connie and-and Armin and we'll get you to a hospital...everything will be okay..." She watched as her words did nothing to stir him. She struggled to stand up, hoisting the bleeding out man as she desperately began to run, only to stumble and fall with Jean's weight over her. She let out an embarrassing cry of pain, shaking as she felt the cold corpse above her.

"What...What is this...??" She mumbled, turning over with a sickening cough, gently holding Jean in her arms. "What is the meaning of this, Jean? You can't-- you weren't supposed to die yet! No! Nononono--NONONO!"

With a sickening yell, she clutched the body closely to her own, ignoring the sharp pain of the plank poking her own chest lightly. "JEAN?! JEAAAAAN!!" She buried herself in him, head stuck in the croon of his neck as she cried wildly.

This was a man she loved. Moreover, he was important. If not for him, the entirety of the world's imbalance would tilt even further. He was not meant to die yet. Blue light engrossed the two, a heavenly glow blinking violently with every heave, every sob, and every curse to the heavens and to the soldiers out there.

Soft blue oceans became dark and haunted, blood vessels popped beneath her eyes as her tears fell on his blue face. "You can't--You can't leave...I--I'll make sure you're avenged! It's all his fault, and I'll see to he will pay! I'll see it done!"

[juuret]

Relatable.

[x]

[rooftoprabbit]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧23𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Summary | All Eddie wants is to bring a smile to your face.

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Fluff, swearing, brief mentions of DV, Fem!Reader, Jason Carver, bullying, Eddie wanting to see reader happy, arguments

Author's Notes | This is Chapter 3 of the series (Chapter 1 and 2 are linked below and I'll create a Master List on my page shortly). This Chapter picks up 6 months after Chapter 2. This one is a lighter read and definitely not the end of the series by any means!

I hope you enjoy reading this series just as much as I am writing it! x

Word Count | 4k

Key | Pink Italics is reader’s internal monologue

Blue Italics is Eddie’s internal monologue             

Bold Italics is a recall of a past event/encounter

If you liked it, please like and reblog and share it with your friends! Feedback is so incredibly welcomed!

I don't consent to my work being copied and posted on third party websites. Plagiary is a crime...you wouldn't steal a car

SERIES LIST

PT 1

PT2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Six months had passed since your blow up with Jason in the cafeteria and for the most part life had been pretty ordinary. The first week or two after the confrontation was uncomfortable, you would walk through the halls and hear the whispers from the other students, pointing and talking in hushed tones about what you had said to Jason.  And where was Jason? He had conveniently volunteered to support the Indiana Boys Group Home for two weeks after his father found out through his golf buddies that his son had been humiliated in front of the entire school, putting the Carver name to shame.

After two weeks though everything died down and it went back to normal.  The whispers and pointing stopped, the kids got bored and found something else to entertain their time.  Jason came back and picked right back up from where he left it, tormenting the school and everyone just putting up with it, trying to get through each day in one piece.

For you though, it was better.  You were spending your days with Eddie and his friends, learning about the intricacies of D&D and going to late night gigs to support Corroded Coffin.  It even looked like Eddie was on track to graduate with everyone, with the support and tutorage from you of course.  The best thing though was that you had the trailer all to yourself and it was freeing.  You could walk through the door each afternoon and not have to shield yourself from the possible threat of a cup to the head or barrage of verbal abuse that you were so accustomed to.  No, what awaited you at home was peace and quiet, and the occasional Eddie passed out on your couch.   

About a month after your blow up at Jason your mum was called by her parents, wanting to reconcile.  It was like someone was watching out for you from above because the timing was too divine for it to be a coincidence.  You had been brought you to your breaking point, snapped in half and rewarded for all you’ve endured.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“I’m moving back in with my parents” your mum said sitting at the kitchen table, sipping cheap decaf coffee from a chipped mug.

You and Eddie had been sitting together on the couch listening to Metallica’s latest album and Eddie trying to play along on his guitar.  It took you both a while before you realised what she had just said.

“I think you keep playing that last chord wrong, try again but with B flat” you say, choosing to ignore her.

“You’re right, good thinking” Eddie said, aware of what you were doing.

“Y/N, did you not hear what I just said?” your mum now visibly annoyed at not getting the attention.

“Sorry, what did you just say?” not bothering to look up from the album cover you were studying.  Eddie stopped playing the guitar and gave you a nod that you were doing a good job keeping calm.

“I said I’m moving back in with my parents.  We’ve discussed this and thought it best if I move in with them so not as to tarnish the Y/L/N name after the little stunt you pulled last month.  Give myself as much distance from the incident as possible.  I will be working with them to take over the Y/L/N Country Club Events Division, one held by the women in our family for generations” looking at you with distain in her eyes.

“Ok.”

Eddie had spoken with you a few times after everything that happened between you and Jason and you’d both realised that when you were yelling at Jason, you were really yelling at your mum.  After that you both worked hard on trying not to give your mum the satisfaction of seeing you riled up, ready for a fight.  It only hurt you more.  If it weren’t for Eddie, you don’t know what you’d do.  He was the one holding you together, helping you pick up the pieces.

“You’ll continue to live in this trailer until graduation, my parents will help support you by paying half the rent, the other half will need to come from your own pocket” dismissing her responsibilities as a mother.

“This is the best outcome for both of us, we don’t get along and once you’re done you can go back to live with your Uncle Michael”.

“It’s Mick, he hates Michael” laughing and genuinely realising what kind of woman she really was, to not care to call someone by their name correctly.  She only cared about herself but she had unknowingly handed you your new life on a golden platter.

“That’s fine by me – I just have two requirements.  1. You never come to this trailer or Hawkins High, I never want to see your face where I must be every day and 2. I get to use Dad’s last name.  If you don’t want me associated with your family; fine, but I will have no association with that last name any longer”.  You grabbed Eddie’s hand for support, something that became a regular thing when you felt yourself starting to shake from the words leaving your mouth.  Eddie always held on twice as tight.

“You will go down to the school tomorrow and change all of my information to his and that will be that.  I won’t be your burden anymore”.

For the first time ever, your mum sat their dumbfounded.  The look on her face had you holding back laughter.  For once, the woman who had made you feel like you were nothing, but one giant mistake, the woman who always had to have the last word was finally struggling to find them. 

“Ok, I’ll go down now and do that” as she got up, grabbed her bags and never looked back.

As the door closed you and Eddie both looked at each other in silence, shocked at what had just transpired.  All at once the feeling of being freed from the ties that bound you to that woman were released and you both jumped in the air, dancing around the room like you had both just won the jackpot.

“Well shit, I guess this means I better get a job.”

You hadn’t heard a word from her since the day she walked out those doors and it was bliss. You were scraping by, having gotten a job at the little gas station down the road from the trailer but that didn’t bother you one bit – you were free.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“Well hi there listeners you are tuned into 3FQ and if you’re just joining us, Australian Glam Rock band the Skyhooks have just announced a ‘one night only’ reunion gig at Indiana’s very own Patio on the 23rd of this month!! To celebrate this once in a lifetime chance we will be giving away two free tickets to the 23rd caller today! So, keep listening in folks for your chance to be that lucky winner!”

“I need those fucking tickets” Eddie desperately started pacing back and forth in his room trying to work out how he could listen to the radio all day during school so he could be the 23rd caller.

*Knock-knock* “Eddie! Are you in there? If we don’t leave now, you’ll be late for your maths final we’ve been studying for all week! Come on, we can’t be late!” you scream from outside, oblivious to the chaos happening on the other side of the wall.

“Fuck! I mean, yeah, shit hold on – I’m coming, just looking for my textbook” Eddie calls out, trying to bide more time while he works out how to win these tickets.  Of course! The portable radio he got from Wayne a few years back!

Eddie drops to the floor, reaching one arm under his bed, looking into the distance with his tongue slightly poking out of his mouth.  Using only the memory he had of what might be under his bed, he feels around for the shoebox he remembers throwing it in when the batteries died out within a month of its use.  “Aha! Found you! Now, where are all those spare batteries Wayne has laying around?” running to the kitchen counter, slamming his shoulder against the wall to stop him slipping on the linoleum tiles “Fuck”.

“Eddie, are you ok in there? What’s taking you so long?” now starting to get quite concerned he may have fallen from all the obscenities you could hear coming from the kitchen.

You go to turn the handle of the trailer door but are stopped by the deadbolt.  

Shit, thank god I locked that.

“Yeah, calm down! I’m fine, just give me a minute” Trying to keep you on the other side of the door a little longer.

“Yes, you genius Eddie” giving himself some praise as he switches the dial on to hear the crystal clear sounds of 3FQ. Now, I just need to win them, easier said than done.

Eddie grabs his bags and swings the door open, almost knocking you off the trailer steps.

“Are you ok? What were you doing in there? And why are you holding a radio in your hand? You never listen to the radio?” getting on your tip-toes to try and get a peek behind Eddie’s back.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing for you to concern yourself about.  Now, get in the car or we’ll be late”. Walking himself to the driver’s side, he leans down to hear the sounds of 3FQ “Ooo, I’m so sorry Carly, you are caller number 3….”.

Shit they’re already at 3

Eddie couldn’t concentrate the whole ride to school, you were talking his ear off about something you found interesting, but all he could think about was how he was going to win these tickets for you.  He thought back to every time you had mentioned Skyhooks being your favourite band and your whole face would light up, like a kid in a candy store.  You knew every song off every album, you would remind him that you’d seen them every single time they came to play at your local when you were back home, and he just wanted to bring a little bit of home to Hawkins for you.  If they had already gotten to caller three that must mean they’re playing two to three songs and then taking a caller so by my shitty calculations I have until maybe third period before I need to call.  I need Henderson’s radio phone thing or whatever the fuck he calls it.

“Eddie…Eddie, are you there? the road is clear – you can turn into the parking lot now” waving your hands in front of Eddie’s eyes to bring him back down to earth.

“Fuck, sorry Y/N”.

“Are you alright, you’ve been off all morning?” giving him a concerned look.  Maybe he’s just nervous of the final today, if he doesn’t pass this he might not graduate.

“Ahhh yeah, just a lot on my mind” Eddie swerves into his car park and turns the engine off.

Hopping out of the car he yells back at you “Sorry Y/N, I gotta go – I’ll see you later”.  With that he slams the door and turns the radio back on “Damon, caller number 6 buddy – better luck next time”

What is his problem? Have I done something to piss him off?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just sing the fucking guards a stupid little song to distract them while the others get past, like try singing ABBA, no one can resist ABBA” giving the boys a little shimmy while humming Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

“There should be a rule against spectators giving opinions on campaigns!” Garth yells, disgusted by your dance moves which only spurs you on more to shimmy further towards him.

“All I’m saying Garth is that there are no rules in that silly little handbook of yours that says the Guards won’t LOVE a little bit of ABBA” cackling at the thought of Eddie having to act out dancing to ABBA.

Rifling through textbooks in your locker listening to the heated argument being had next to you with Jeff and Garth about their plan for tonight’s D&D campaign you were overwhelmed by how much life had changed for you in six short months.  You weren’t expecting this kind of joy until you had landed two feet on home soil yet here you were, starting to find pleasure in the repetitive life you were now leading, no longer tied to the woman who managed to make you feel worthless every chance she got.

“Hey, who’s that blonde chick flirting with the principal over there?” asks Jeff, now distracted by the stranger roaming through the halls.

“Could it possibly be his wife?” you ask not bothering to look out from your locker.

“Have you seen what our principal looks like? If he’s able to bag a chick like that he needs to be giving out his secrets” laughs Garth.

“Anton, you are caller number 14…..”

Poking your head around your locker your eyes lock onto the woman they were referring to.  Your hand smashes the inside of your locker causing both boys to jump in the air by how loud you were.  What is she doing here, we had an agreement.

“Fuck! Y/N what was that for?” yelled Garth, clutching his chest.

“Ahh sorry, I just realised I’ve left my textbook in Eddie’s car.  I’ll have to catch up with you guys later” slamming your locker shut.

Both boys looked at each other confused by the sudden change in your demeanour.  “Alright Y/N, we’ll see you after class then” smiles Jeff, both giving you a wave as they walk in the other direction towards their respective classes.

You know she must have come here in her car, so you make your way down towards the carpark, walking just past Eddie’s van until you see her signature steering wheel cover; a disgusting crocheted Barbie pink number.  This time though it was attached to a brand-new Corvette.  Looks like Daddy got you a new car, that didn’t take long.

You decide to wait just behind Eddie’s van, watching her from the passenger window flirt with the principal. Yuck.  As she makes her way down the pathway, she walks past the van when you grab her wrist and pull her behind the passenger door.

“Ahh, oww what the fuck!?” a shocked look on her face from just being ripped from the walkway.

“Get over yourself, it wasn’t that hard” releasing her hand and looking around to see if anyone was around to see you with her.

“What the fuck are you doing here? We had an agreement, you were never to step foot in Hawkins High while I was attending”

She looks you up and down with a fowl look on her face, like you’d just thrown mud on her brand-new power suit “I don’t remember agreeing to anything like that Y/N” she says readjusting her blazer.

“Are you serious right now?” raising your voice.  “We agreed that I would stay out of your world as long as you did me the same courtesy.  I was starting to finally enjoy my time here and now you show up at school.  Why are you even here?” looking around again to make sure the coast was clear.

“Calm down Y/N, the principal invited me here because they would like my assistance with planning the Senior Prom in a few weeks.  I don’t know if you know this, but I was a big deal at this school” crossing her arms and lifting her chin, like you should be impressed by what she had just said.  Snob.

You could feel yourself getting worked up at what she was saying and the fact she clearly gave no shits about the agreement you had made before you were left to fend for yourself at the trailer park.  What did I expect? Where’s Eddie, I really need him.

She continues, not paying attention to you or how you were feeling in the present moment “I will be helping the ladies on the committee here because I’ve just been elected President of the Events Division at the Country Club and we will be funding and supporting this year’s Prom.  Expect to see a lot of me around here Y/N.  The world doesn’t revolve around people like you”.  And with that she straightens her pencil skirt, turns, and walks away not caring about the internal destruction she’s just managed to cause inside of you.

She gets in her car and speeds off, ignoring the school zone signs.  Leaning up against Eddie’s van your legs slowly start to give in, lowering yourself to a crouch, tears now starting to trickle down your face.  Nothing’s changed, I’m a fool.  Where’s Eddie?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“Fuck, who’s the hottie in the tiny skirt walking out of the school?” asks Hunter, ogling at the woman leaving towards the parking lot.

“Wha-what are you talking about?”.  Looking up from his Playboy magazine Jason finally sees who his friend is talking about.

“Oh her? That’s Victoria Y/L/N, she plays tennis with my mother.  She recently came back from volunteering overseas for like 18 years” says Jason giving very little interest and returning to his magazine.

“FUCK!! Jesus did you just see that? What just happened she’s been yanked from the pathway” screams Hunter, getting up to run towards Victoria, hoping to be her knight in shining armour.  

“Hello Sharon, you are caller number 17, sorry hon….”

“Woah, woah, woah Big Boy! Calm the testosterone, Champ.  I can see her from here, some chick’s pulled her over.  Speaking to her or something” Jason says, just able to see you from where he is.

“Who’s she with?” asks Hunter, now more curious than ever.

“Well lookey here, it’s Y/N.  I wonder how she knows Victoria” Jason now more interested in you than his magazine.

“Boys, this could get interesting” an evil grin appearing on Jason’s face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“Tammy, you are caller number 21.  Ooooh so close! Better luck next time.  Folks, we are so close.  Keep those calls coming in and the 23rd caller could be you!”

Shit, they’re close.  I need to find Henderson.

“Mr Munson.  I can understand that when you hit a certain age the contents of your jeans may become more interesting than algebra but if you would care to join the rest of the class, maybe you’ll be able to graduate this year” huffs Ms Grantham over her glasses.

“Sorry Miss.  Ummm can I please be excused to the bathroom?” Eddie asks, crossing his legs and giving an exasperated look as if he’s been holding it in all day.

“Yes, hurry up”

Running through the halls all he could do was yell expletives.  “Where is that little shit when you need him, he’s always biting my ankles when I want him to fuck off but when I actually need him, he vanishes”

“HENDERSONNNNNNN” now resorting to just screaming his name, Eddie runs to the AV room, clawing the door open.

“Henderson! Did you not hear me screaming your name” running to Dustin and grabbing him by the collar.

“Shit Eddie, I didn’t know you liked me this much” giving a loving expression before quickly changing to concern at the look Eddie was giving him.  “Is everything alright?”

“No, no it’s not.  Where is that stupid phone you use to call Suzy on.  It’s a matter of life and death” Eddie’s voice getting more desperate as the minutes tick forward, sure that he’s lost his chance at winning you those tickets.

Dustin slowly leans down to grab his bag “It’s just in my bag, I’ll just grab it for you.  Why do you need it so desperately anywa---”

Dustin couldn’t finish his sentence before Eddie had snatched his bag from his grasp, ripping everything out before he got to the phone.  “So what do I do, press this button and it will call anywhere?  Even to a radio station?”

“Well you don’t have to put it such simple terms but essen---”

“HENDERSON”

Dustin now realising the seriousness of the situation “Yes. It can call a radio station” tail now between his legs.

“Fuck, thank you” Eddie grabs Dustin’s face and plants the biggest kiss on his lips.  “You’re a life saver”.

Not waiting for a response from Dustin, Eddie turns around and dials in the number for 3FQ.  It’s ringing….come on, come on….

“This is 3FQ, who are we speaking with”

Yes

“Ahhh, yeah this is Eddie”

“Well Eddie, are you calling to enter the competition for the two tickets to Skyhooks on this weekend” the announcer asks, dragging out the call

“Yes, yes I am.  I really need these tickets” the desperation clear in Eddie’s voice.

“Eddie, my friend Eddie.  You are the……….23rd Caller!!! Congratulation my friend, you have just won two tickets to see Skyhooks play at the Patio this weekend! How are you feeling?”

“……”

“Eddie, are you there?” The announcer’s voice unsure if Eddie had hung up the call.

“Fuck. I mean shit.  I mean damn, I’m sorry” now lost for words for the first time in his life.

“That’s ok Eddie, everyone gets nervous on radio.  Congratulations.”

Eddie’s mind goes blank as the announcer’s voice trails off talking about the next song lined up.  

He finally comes back to earth when Dustin starts shaking him, scared that he may be having a stroke “Eddie, earth to Eddie! Come on man, you’re scaring me”.

I did it, I fucking did it.  This is going to make her day!

“Henderson! I did it! I got the tickets”.  Before Dustin can question what he’s talking about, Eddie has left just as quickly as he had entered, running through the halls to find your class.

It’s Tuesday afternoon, she must be in Ms Fowler’s Geography class. Even better, she hates Geography.  You really did it Munson, this is your year!

Finding Ms Fowler’s classroom, Eddie stops at the door peering in to find you in the class.  There you are, wow you look more depressed to be there than I thought, this’ll make it right.

Forgetting to compose himself, too excited to stop, he slams open the classroom door – disturbing a once quiet classroom.

“MR MUNSON! What do you think you are doing barging into my classroom like that” screams Ms Fowler, annoyed at the interruption now caused to her students.

Ignoring the teacher.

“Y/N” screams Eddie pointing in your direction.

Your head looks up to see Eddie standing at the front of the class, both confused and worried at the stint he was attempting to pull in front of everyone.

“Y/n, I got them! I actually got them”

You smiled at the expression on Eddie’s face “You got what Eddie?”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself just enough to articulate what he was about to say.  Very slowly he continues “Two. Tickets. To….” *pause for effect* “Skyhooks”.  Eddie now tries to gauge the expression on your face.  There was none.

“You what?” now slowly raising from your seat unsure if this was a prank he was pulling or if he was serious.

“You and me Dundee.  This Saturday night - Skyhooks!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, NO YOU DIDN’T!!!!” you scream and run towards Eddie, not giving a flying fuck of the disruption and sceptical you were both causing.

Reaching Eddie, you grab both his hands and start jumping around in a circle screaming and laughing at each other.  All Eddie could focus on was the excitement that covered your face, excitement that he had put there.  How could you manage to be more beautiful Y/N?

MUNSON, Y/N! Hallway now!!”

You both stop to look at the furious expression on the teacher’s face then towards the class who were all now laughing at what had transpired in front of them.

As you walk out of the classroom to your inevitable weeklong detention you whisper to Eddie “this has made my day, thank you Eddie”

Not letting go of your hand, Eddie gives you the biggest grin “it’s you and me Y/N, you and me”.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter 4

Parings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Violence, torture, this one gets a little spicy y’all, descriptions of sexual acts, hints of abuse (please let me know if i’ve missed any)

Word Count: 14.8K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in The Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened be be Humanity’s Strongest... and your ex.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

A/N: well, you guys wanted it all in one post! this is by far the longest chapter, yet, and possibly the longest chapter in the entire fic maybe? i’ve caught myself up now with the progress of writing, since i’ve only completed one part of the next chapter so chapter 5 won’t be out within the next three days like these last four have been. i’m thinking i’ll need maybe a week? not sure, but the next part has a little flashback section which i hope you’ll all enjoy!

god these a/n’s are really long aren’t they? asdfghjkl sorry i’ll make the cut off now. hope you enjoy!!!

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Whether it had been thirty minutes or thirty years, you couldn’t tell. Struggling to stay conscious as the four soldiers brought your limp body back to your cell. Your legs no longer work, gathering dust as they drag across the ground. Your abdomen and back were on fire. You were convinced. They had simply thrown you into hell to cook for a bit before dragging you back out. There was no other explanation. Other than the countless, seemingly endless beatings you had just taken. Whether your legs were tired or if your spine was broken, you couldn’t tell as they tossed you back behind bars, removing the rope around your wrists. You didn’t have the strength to fight back. Didn’t have the strength to even raise your head as they left.

Broken, split ribs sent agonising jolts of pain as you shifted in a lame attempt to curl up into a ball. You hadn’t cracked like they’d wanted you to. You hadn’t screamed, cried, begged them to stop. And you wouldn’t. When they came back for you, you would hold your tongue once again. You had never broken in the past. Whether you’d been compromised during an assault on a rival gang, or whether it was one of your mentor’s training exercises to get you used to torture. You had never broken.

You weren’t about to start now.

Still, the throbbing in your body prevented you from sleeping. You didn’t know what time it was. Time had escaped you during that ordeal. You didn’t even know what time of day it was, pretty sure it was night when they had come for you.

Fuck, your body ached. But you knew comfort was a long way from here. It always seemed so far away from where you were. Did you ever have comfort?

You lay there for god knows how long, seconds turning to minutes, minutes to hours. Hours could have turned to days for all you knew.

When the now familiar echo of footsteps reached your ears, you didn’t move. You didn’t care. Whoever it was could rot in hell for all you cared. Wishing death upon these fucking soldiers was the only thing keeping you from giving up right now.

“The bed not good enough or something?” Levi. Shit. The one person you didn’t want to see you like this.

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to try and count as many marks on the wall as you could. It helped to keep your focus off the dull throbbing coursing through your body.

“Oi, ‘you seriously still asleep? It's almost midday,” the singing of metal caused you to wince slightly as he rapped on the bars in an attempt to wake you from a sleep you weren’t in.

“Get the fuck u—” You had a vague idea what caused him to stop his impending barrage of insults you knew were about to flutter effortlessly from his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if you were thankful or not. On the upside, you didn’t have to hear whatever colourful language he was about to spew. On the downside…

“What happened to you…?” it was the second time he’d asked that question, but from the tone of his voice, you could tell this was less a passing thought and more of a question prompted by horror.

Levi froze. His breath caught in his throat. He had expected you to be awake by now. To be up, with that crooked, cocky smile on your face. In fact, he’d half expected you to be leaning against the wall, the door flung wide open as you twirled the keychain around your finger, simply begging him to ask you how you’d done it.

The last thing he expected to see was you, on the floor, curled into a ball. The shirt on your lower back riding up enough for him to see violent, deep purple bruises, blood steadily streaming from your spine and lower back.

Still you refused to answer, or even move. Filthy fucking soldiers, you fucking hated every last one of them. How fucking dare they? How dare they string you up like a piece of drying meat. They had no idea what you’d been through. What you’d had to do to survive. How dare they assume.

And yet,

And yet there was still that little voice in your head. That little kernel of doubt, convincing you that you deserved this. You had killed so many. So much blood was on your hands.

You deserved this.

You didn’t even notice Levi had entered your cell until a hand rested upon your shoulder.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” your reaction was instant. Instinctual. Immediately wrenching out of his hand, throwing yourself forward. A yelp escaped your mouth without your permission, fire igniting in your body as you moved so suddenly. It caused you to falter in your movements, landing harshly on your side. “Shit!” your voice broke as you yelped, agony flaring in your entire midsection, hand flying to clutch your side as you backed up against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no conviction in your voice. It was more of a plea than anything. If you had raised your head to look at him, maybe you would have laughed at his expression of twisted shock.

But instead you let your hair fall in front of your face, masking your own expression. Teeth grit in silent pain, eyes screwed shut.

Levi’s worry turned to outright unsettling fear. Over the last two days, he’s witnessed you more broken than he’s ever seen you before. He remembered sitting up with you after you’d woken from one of your nightmares. The two of you sitting on the floor against the wall, sharing a cup of tea to not waste resources. He’d seen you angry. He’d seen you upset. But he’d never seen you shattered.

“(Y/N)...” you’d forgotten how soft his usual bored voice could sound. Even after yesterday, you hadn’t heard that tone from him in years. It was borderline unnatural.

It prompted you to raise your head ever so slightly, glaring at him through thick, matted (H/C) strands. You refused to let your guard down, even though the sight of him squatting before you, eyebrows gently creased with suppressed worry almost made you relax. But you weren’t about to be taken away and tortured again.

Any scrap of trust that may have manifested yesterday during the carriage ride and your conversation had been crushed.

“Get away from me,” you looked feral, bearing your teeth animalistically as you snarled. Though it didn’t seem to deter him. He knew a dog only bared its teeth when it was wounded, fearing to be hurt further.

Levi sighed through his nose as he stood. You flinched at his movement and watched as he made more of a conscious effort not to startle you. Your eyes squinted in suspicious confusion as he took a small cloth from his pocket and started running it under the tap.

It seemed the faucet did work. Good to know.

Returning to squat in front of you, his eyes flickered from your face to your abdomen.

“Show me,” he instructed gently, and you almost obeyed him. Almost.

“Go fuck yourself,” you spat instead, bringing your knees closer to your aching body. If you hadn’t been trained to withstand pain, you would have cried out as your abdomen begged you to stop constricting your muscles.

“I’m trying to help,” your ears caught the slight irritation in his tone, but you didn’t care. He could kick you for all you care.

Actually, you really didn’t want him to do that.

“I don’t want your help,”

“You need it.”

“Burn in hell, Levi,” it was the first time you’d actually used his name since you said it back when they first apprehended you, and Levi couldn’t deny that it cut deep. A sentiment he masked with a frustrated exhale. Clearly he’d expected resistance. Either that or he was just as tenacious as he used to be.

“Well, I'm definitely not going up,” he responded, that same softness in his tone and despite your situation, you couldn’t help the slight huff of amusement. It seemed to put him at ease too, content you weren’t about to lunge for his throat.

Slowly, you uncurled from your position, visibly wincing as your torn, beaten muscles relaxed. Levi took this as permission to inch closer and you felt a small appreciation for his trepidation.

Still, you couldn’t help but flinch every time he moved too fast. A simple reflex stemming from your training. It wasn’t really something you thought about, but it prompted the raven haired man to freeze every time you moved.

You refused to meet his eyes as he gently lifted the fabric of your shirt, hearing his breath hitch slightly.

“Holy shit…” He breathed. You hadn’t seen how bad your body was damaged, but judging by his reaction;

It sure as hell wasn’t good.

Levi felt he could kill someone. Actually, a lot of someones. Shit, when he finds out who was responsible for this he would make sure they wished they were never born. The same rage he felt when seeing you flinch for the first time once again coursed through his veins, and this time, he didn’t think he could just let it simmer.

“Who did this to you?” you blinked, his question caught you off guard. Didn’t he know? How didn’t he know? Surely every soldier in the damn military would revel in the idea of you being tortured all night. You clenched your jaw, refusing to respond. You didn’t know why you were being so stubborn. Maybe it was the sheer principle of not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him.

In fact, now you thought about it, it was definitely that. Whether Levi sensed it or not, he chose not to press you for an answer. Perhaps he did already know.

You hissed as the cold, damp cloth gently soothed your inflamed skin, glancing back to his face. You hated the way his focussed expression calmed your heart. Loathed how that crease in his eyebrows eased your whirling thoughts. Despised how, from this angle, you could see just how annoyingly attractive he had become.

“Can you move?” he asked, silver eyes rising up to meet your own. The low torchlight highlighted the heus of deep blue you knew he had hidden away. You pretended you looked away because you couldn’t stand the sight of his face, rather than the reality.

You were far too tempted to lean up and capture his lips.

“Yes,” Levi couldn’t tell if you were lying, shifting slightly to help you move but stopping immediately when you flinched away.

“Lie on the bed,” for the first time in ten years, you were compelled to follow an order. You weren’t even obedient towards Viper most of the time. But nonetheless, you found yourself struggling to your feet, an arm braced on the wall behind you.

Clearly respecting your independence, Levi took a step back, allowing you to find your own way. If you weren’t slightly delirious from the pain, you would have missed a kernel of respect flashing in his expression, before he swiftly turned away, washing the cloth again as you collapsed onto the so-called ‘mattress’ with a hiss.

Levi rung the small cloth out onto the floor, focussing on the way the droplets collided with the stone, rather than the way every movement you made caused you obvious pain. Once again, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to cradle you in his arms and whisper soft nothings into your ear. He wanted you to fall asleep next to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He craved to feel your soft hair through his fingertips, gently coercing you into dreams. It hurt so much that he could see you, but he couldn’t have you.

Turning to face away from him, you once again shrivelled into a ball. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this. You just wanted to be left alone. But the dip in the bed behind you told you that wasn’t an option right now, muscles tensing on instinct.

he didn’t ask for permission this time as gentle fingers gripped your shirt, dragging up to reveal your brutalised back. If you could see his expression, you might have even been afraid. Darkness shrouded his face, teeth grit in utter hatred. A muscle in his jaw twitching from the effort of clamping his mouth so tightly.

His first touch felt like you’d been shocked by the static that built up on the bed clothes. The damp cool gliding across the welts and bruises across your back. Balling your hands into fists, you refused to make any sound. Still having the mindset of not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of hearing you in pain. It was a mindset you didn’t think would leave you for a while.

Levi worked in silence, allowing you to settle and almost relax after a while. You wanted to trust him, but you didn’t. Not really. However, right now, you trusted him not to hurt you further. Simply content to relish in the way he soothed the pain. It didn’t come naturally. Every time he pressed too hard it took all your strength not to lunge for his throat, but he would stop upon hearing your sharp intake of breath, waiting for you to settle before continuing.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, you finally broke it with a question that had been budding in your mind.

“Why are you doing this?” your voice came out a rasped whisper, almost as if you hadn’t used your vocal chords for weeks. You were sure he wasn’t going to answer, opting instead to simply continue to clean your bruises. Another blanket of quiet had settled over the two of you before he responded.

“I don’t know,” he lied. Levi wasn’t sure why he lied. Honestly, he thought it was obvious enough. He still cared about you. So fucking much. It burned him to see you in so much pain. He’d never felt the mind numbing fury he felt when he saw what they’d done to you.

You weren’t really happy with the answer. If anything, it simply gave you more questions. But you were too tired to press for more. Almost too tired to notice when he’d stopped. Pulling your grimy shirt back down to your waist, you felt the mattress rise as he stood. You didn’t turn. You couldn’t turn. After the night you’d had, the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catching up on you.

Noticing how you were almost already asleep, Levi decided to throw caution to the wind.

You felt a soft caress through your dirt ridden hair, the action sending a pleasant buzz through your system. It was an action so familiar to the both of you, you wondered why you kept flinching away from his touch when all it did was gently drain you of energy.

“Sleep.”

You didn’t have time to contemplate his tone before the comforting nothingness claimed you.

꧁ꨄ꧂

Levi hadn’t been this angry in a long, long time. Sure, he’d been annoyed. When a solider made a stupid mistake or when a cadet didn’t know how to clean properly. But he hadn’t been this furious in years.

Maybe since the deaths of Isobel and Farlan.

It was obvious when Levi was in a bad mood. Sweeping through the headquarters like a storm. Cadets could almost feel his presence before they saw him, swiftly making themselves busy as he paid no attention to any of them. He had one goal in mind. One destination. And he didn’t even knock when he got there.

“Out. Now.” it wasn’t an order to disobey. When he opened the door to Erwin’s office, revealing a small meeting, Levi didn’t think twice to dismiss them, even if they were his superiors.

“Levi, what’s—”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll all leave the room for the next half an hour. Maybe longer depending on how this conversation goes,” his swirling eyes met Erwin’s and he swore he could detect the slightest fear in the man’s gaze.

Good.

He should be afraid.

Without so much as a mutter of goodbyes, the squad leaders and section commanders all dispersed, leaving the Captain alone with the Commander.

Erwin was the first to break the heavy silence.

“I’m assuming this is about Raven?” his voice didn’t waver, seeming to have regained his composure from the initial shock. But Levi wasn’t here for a dainty conversation. The unbridled rage pulsing through his bloodstream clouded his vision, almost seeing red.

“Did you know?”

“Levi—”

“Did. You. Know?” Levi hardly ever raised his voice. Usually it was only out in the field or on a mission, and that was only because it was easier to communicate that way. Keeping his bored, flat tones when slicing open the nape of a titan didn’t seem possible.

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep, defeated sigh.

“Yes. I knew. But Levi, you have to understand—”

“I don’t have to understand jackshit. Don’t you think she’s been through enough? She’s led a life being treated like an animal and now you’re allowing her to be beaten like one?”

“It’s necessary, Levi.”

“It’s barbaric!” Erwin had never heard such venom in his voice. Not even when he vowed to kill him all those years ago. He’d seen Levi’s rage. Witnessed it from afar. The way he tore through flesh like it was paper.

Never did he think he would be on the receiving end. Leaning forward, the blonde folded his arms against the desk, clearly conflicted.

“I know this is a difficult subject for you. You two grew up in the same environment, it would only be natural for you to care for her,” the conniving bastard. Levi borderline snarled at the statement. He did care for you. Deeply. But Erwin didn’t need to know that.

“But please listen. As I mentioned before, ties between the Military Police and the Survey Corps are taut. Any discord between us would cause them to snap. I already tightened them further by not allowing them to execute her publicly. I thought if she joined the Scouts instead, not only would we gain an asset, but she would also be able to survive. That didn’t sit well with Niles. He wants her to pay for what she’s done. If not by death, then by various other methods. This was the only way to keep both parties happy, Levi. Trust me,” Levi was starting to lose what trust he had in the man.

Whilst yes, his explanation made sense, it still didn’t sweeten the blow. How long would this go on for? Would they take you everyday, or just some days? How badly would they hurt you?

As if able to read his mind through his knife-like glare, Erwin continued.

“It’s only for this week. Whilst she’s in her cell. They don’t have permission to permanently damage her, only—”

“Only break her ribs and crack her sternum. Yeah, I saw,” he responded bitterly, folding his arms as he leant against the door. Fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck them.

Levi had never been so conflicted. Whilst the sight of you, beaten and broken, had shattered him, he also knew it was for your own good. It was this, or death.

He didn’t like the second option much.

But the memory of what they had done had burned into his skull. Running his fingers down your prominent, bruised spine. So fragile, but so goddamn strong. Muscles spread disproportionately about your abdomen and shoulders. Your stomach was concave for fuck sakes. And they were still beating the shit out of you.

It made him wonder. If he wasn’t so lucky…

Would he have received the same treatment?

Would he have been thrown in a cell and tortured for a week?

He doubted it.

Erwin waited for Levi to gather his thoughts. Waited for him to say whatever he was going to say next. He had expected Levi to find out. Had expected the man to have some sort of reaction, but nothing quite to this extent. Maybe there really was something deeper between you and him that Levi was keeping to himself.

“So this will continue for a whole damn week?” Levi asked, almost exasperated, running a hand through his obsidian locks. This was a nightmare. All of it. Nobody deserves this treatment. Not even Kenny, but especially not you.

It was Erwin’s slow nod that had his stomach dropping.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “This will continue for the whole week.”

That was all Levi needed to hear. Whether it was right or wrong, he was powerless to stop it. Turning on his heel and heading back down the halls to his office, he tried to push the images of your broken body and spirit from his mind. Maybe he was hoping you were the same bright eyed, mischievous woman you were before he lost you ten years ago. How had so much changed since then?

How much had you changed so much since then?

He no longer saw that spark of life in your eyes. No longer able to bask in your genuine smile.

If he hadn’t seen so many young, hopeful souls shattered by the paralysing fear of facing a titan, or the desperate heartache of losing a loved one, he’d be surprised.

But he wasn’t. Not at all. Who knows what you have had to do to survive? Who knows just how much of yourself you’d had to sacrifice to get where you are now. But he wouldn’t accept that you were gone.

He would never accept that.

But from the looks of you, only a small fragment of your true self remained. Levi thought he was over being hurt by the changes in people he somewhat cared about.

Maybe he was wrong.

꧁ꨄ꧂

The week was gruelling. Taken from your cell at night and being subjected to both physical and mental torture was one of the toughest things you’ve faced. It was brutal, having to fortify both your mind and body nightly against the blows from the MPs. Sometimes it would change. Sometimes the original four switched out. Sometimes they had an observer. But every time was horrific.

You were sure you’d be dead by now if Levi didn’t visit daily to soothe your broken and cracked bones. If he didn’t ask his monotonous questions, all of which you either responded to with something sarcastic, or silence.

Very few times you actually gave a real answer.

Unlike this time.

“How did you get that scar?” It was always the question he started with. Always wanting to know what happened to you during the time he was away, and that scar down your right eye.

“Don’t you ever get tired of asking that question?” you huffed, tucking your elbows beneath your head.

“Don’t you ever get tired of not answering it?” since you’d seen him everyday since you arrived, you were beginning to relearn all the tells you knew he had, but had changed over time. For example, this smallest lilt in his voice when he found something amusing. He waited for your body to stop twitching as you laughed silently, before resuming the treatment of the damp cloth.

“Not really, it’s fun listening to you get more and more frustrated.”

“As charming as ever, Raven.”

You didn’t know how you felt about him using your alias rather than your name. You knew you’d asked him to, or rather, harshly told him to, but he’d used your actual name a few times since then. But you didn’t want to ask, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.

You let the quiet blanket the two of you, debating whether or not to answer. You’d refused him everyday, but as more time passed, the more you remembered just how much you’d loved him.

“There was a rival gang in the neighbourhood next to ours. Always fighting us for territory or supplies. Honestly, I wanted them wiped out, but Prongs insisted that would make us far too many powerful enemies,” Levi had paused as you started the exposition, genuinely surprised you’d actually decided to give him a full answer, rather that the usual “I entered a sword headbutting contest” or something equally as ridiculous.

“We were at each other’s throats for years, never really landing a solid hit on the other’s gang, until the bastard managed to take one of my Shadows, Diablo, alive. I owed those people everything. They took me in when you—” you managed to stop yourself, but not fast enough for Levi to avoid feeling the gut punching guilt he felt whenever you accidentally mentioned him leaving. You really didn’t mean to, you were just used to talking more openly about it.

“Uh, sorry. Yeah, they took me in, so I owed them a lot. Plus, I’d known them for years by now. I trusted them and they trusted me. I wasn’t about to abandon her,” Levi could hear your conviction and resolve in the cadence of your voice, and silently wondered when you’d become so strong. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to be treating you badly damaged back, until you hissed slightly. Looking down, he realised he’d pressed a little too hard with the cloth against your tender skin.

“Shit, sorry.”

“‘S’fine. Just concentrate, yeah?” despite your condition, you still had it in you to crack cocky jokes. Levi had half the mind to swat the back of your head with his cloth, but he decided to be merciful.

You left it a beat before you continued.

“Anyway, I didn’t have a choice. But it turns out, all the creepy bastard wanted to do was to make sure everyone knew I wasn’t untouchable. Then maybe we’d stop having smaller gangs ally with us. I let him scar my face, and in return he gave us Diablo back, completely unharmed. It was really fucking weird now that I think about it,” Levi pondered this for a moment, before another question popped into his head.

“What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“The creepy guy, idiot.”

“Call me an idiot again, I fucking dare you.”

“What will you do? You can hardly stand.”

“I don’t need to stand to beat your sorry ass.”

Shit, he’d missed this. This playful banter between the two of you. He’d missed it so goddamn much.

“He found one of my blades stuck in his throat pretty soon after,” Levi grunted in approval, a small smile bloomed across his face at the thought.

Good.

Creepy son-of-a-bitch.

The two of you continued in a comfortable silence for a short while, before your slightly mischievous voice cut through it again.

“Okay, my turn,” you sounded far too nonchalant for his liking, Levi narrowing his gaze to the back of your head.

“Your turn?”

“You’ve been asking me questions for the last few days, and I haven’t asked you one once,” if Levi didn’t know better, he’d say you were almost pouting. He was tempted to turn your head to check, but it seemed you still weren’t entirely comfortable with the whole being touched thing.

He hadn’t asked you about that yet.

“Alright, alright. One question.”

“How come you get countless and I only get one?”

“Call it a Captain’s privilege,”

“Pffft, Captain my ass,”

“Just ask your stupid question.”

You laughed at his feigned frustrated tone, knowing he was loving this as much as you were. You allowed yourself to think about how you wanted to phrase this.

“Are they still here with you? Farlan and Isobel?” you had been slightly hesitant to ask this, since he hadn’t mentioned them once. You didn’t know them personally, only seeing them fleetingly when Levi would usher you into his room, or having sparing conversation with them when Viper sold them that ODM. And judging by his pained silence, you now feared his answer.

“Yes and no,” your question had definitely caught him off guard. He didn’t even think you remembered them, so for you to ask after them was a little out of the blue. Hence why he opted to mimic your response from a few days ago.

You had clearly caught on.

“The hell does that mean?”

Levi realised he probably couldn’t tend to your back and tell this story at the same time. He was going to need all his strength to suppress the torrent of emotions he knew he was about to unlock. Sensing his change of tone, you slowly shifted so you were sitting next to him, making sure you didn’t move too quickly or awkwardly so as to not irritate your painful back.

You searched his features in the silence, partially hidden by the bangs you used to love running your hands through. You couldn’t help but wonder whether or not they were as soft as they used to be.

“It was my fault,” he admitted quietly. You hated seeing Levi like this. You’d only seen him like this once before, when Kenny abandoned him. You vowed you would never let him feel like this again as long as you were by his side.

This is what happens when you’re separated.

“What was your fault?” you gently prompted, not wanting to push him, but rather wanting to let him know that you were willing to listen.

“It was our first expedition. I was naive, agreeing to let them come with us, rather than the original plan which was for me to go alone. Raven, the reason I— the reason we left, was because we were recruited for a job, and killing Erwin Smith was part of that. But none of us knew what to expect beyond the walls. We’d trained but, we didn’t know what to expect when facing an actual titan,” you didn’t press further when he took pauses or longer breaths. You were happy he was comfortable enough with you now to even tell you this. “Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly, and it wasn’t long before it all went to shit. I lost sight of them when the storm hit, losing them in the fog. I was completely powerless to stop an Abnormal. Shit, I didn’t even know it had passed me. I just saw bodies and limbs everywhere and knew I had to turn back. By the time I got there, it was too late. They were both gone,” Levi’s fist clenched into a ball, taking his focus away from the pain in his chest to the one in his palm. He didn’t even realise his eyes were closed until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch, not quite able to believe how far the two of you had come in such a short amount of time.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Levi,” he didn’t really understand what you were apologising for, or why you felt the need. Afterall, it was him who left you.

“I vowed after that day I wouldn’t have any regrets. Some jackass said that if I did, their deaths wouldn’t mean anything. But I knew I would always have one. I knew I would always regret leaving you behind,” Levi looked to you through his bangs, an expression of guilt etched into his hardened face. You forgave him at that moment. You forgave him for everything.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? And whilst I may not be the same girl you left behind, I still have her memories,” your hand slid from its position on his shoulder to rest over his heart, feeling it flutter within his sturdy ribcage.

Levi faintly wondered if he was dreaming. If you could feel his heart rate increase with every touch.

“That’s why you said yes and no, isn’t it? Because they’re not physically here, but they are here,” Levi could do nothing but nod, his eyes trained on your face like a hawk. He wanted permission. Begged for it through his dark, swirling eyes. Screamed for it in the way his eyes flickered to your lips, your face so close he could smell that scent of freshly baked bread you’d always carried with you, even beneath all the filth. A few centimetres further and you would have what you’d wanted for ten long years. What you both have wanted.

“You sound ridiculous,”

“Your fault,” he could feel the flutter of your breath against his face, wishing nothing more than for you to close the distance.

Levi slowly brought his hand from his lap, his palm rising to cup your cheek.

It didn’t even get close before you flinched, eyes darting to his raised hand.

And just like that, all the tension dissolved. As if you hadn’t been busy getting lost within the storm that were his irises. Levi pulled back, as if he himself had been struck.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking,” he rose from his position next to you, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.

How could he be so damn selfish? It was obvious you couldn’t do anything like that right now. Maybe not ever. And he was getting way ahead of himself. You had already said the girl who loved him was dead, he couldn’t even think how or why he would assume just because your body was present, your mind was as well. Just because he was willing, why would you be willing as well?

Except you were.

So. Fucking. Willing.

And you cursed yourself for these instinctive reactions. Every sudden movement had your mind flashing back to training. Back to Viper’s brutal learning methods. It wasn’t even that much longer after Levi left you were made the Raven. After Viper’s death, it was almost instantaneous. But that didn’t stop those seven months of brutal punishments to leave a permanent scar on your psyche. You wished you could find your voice to reassure him that you’d get over this.

But you couldn’t.

And Levi was once again the first to speak.

“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow Raven—”

“(Y/N),” you corrected him. After countless times of him calling you by your alias, you didn’t think you could stand it anymore. Levi raised his brow, seemingly a little confused by your interruption. “I’m not The Raven anymore. Technically that title belongs to Prongs now. So it’s just (Y/N),” despite the awkwardness of your recent encounter, you still felt that familiar warmth blossom in your chest at his softened smile, and quietly wonder if anyone else ever saw him smile this much.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N),” you returned his expression, before lying back down on your side. This was your last night in your cell, before you’d be free to join the Scouts. You silently scoffed at the irony of that statement, but nothing could quell your small candle of hope as you listened to Levi’s footsteps get quieter and quieter. Maybe things weren’t so shit up here after all.

꧁ꨄ꧂

“You know, Raven, I’m going to miss our little nighttime meetings,” another harsh blow to your stomach sent you reeling, eyes screwed shut in both pain and defiance. They were trying everything they could to break you tonight. Blood running freely down your abdomen. Fresh bruises now blossoming over the wilted petals of previous nights.

Still you refused to break. Solid walls of spite had erected around your mind, and they wouldn’t be cracked or broken. Not by anything. So you took it. You took your punishment, only opening your mouth to hurl obscene insults or vile curses in their direction. Mocking the way they struck, laughing at their lack of strength. It only resulted in harsher blows, but it was worth seeing the frustration on their faces when you didn’t scream in agony.

“You know who you remind me of like this? I only made the connection a few nights ago. Strung up and beaten like your good-for-nothing father,”

That struck a chord in you. Your eyes flew open, staring at the ground in horror. This is what had happened to him? They had taken him and beaten him? Was he still alive? Was he here somewhere?

The man, who you’d dubbed Dirt, answered all your questions with his next jab.

“A shame he only lasted a few days. You on the other hand… you’re much more fun to play with,” a feral grin sliced through his face as he circled you, drawing back to land three excrutiating blows against your lower back. You grit your teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You didn’t think you had a heart to shatter. You didn’t think any of it remained for it to be broken again.

The MPs had taken two father figures from you.

That grin still adorned Dirt’s face as he went to swing the metal bat again, only to be interrupted by the door behind you opening. Dirt’s eyes narrowed, before whoever it was seemed to please him. God you couldn’t wait for the day where you tore that venomous smile right off his fucking face.

“Captain Ackerman. To what do we owe the pleasure?” you froze. What the hell was he doing here? Why did he always have to arrive during the moments where you really didn’t want him to see you.

But you weren’t expecting to feel a kernel of hope as he spoke.

You weren’t expecting the small smile that etched into your sweat slickened face.

“I was sent to observe. Since she’ll be joining the Survey Corps, I’m here to ensure you don’t break her,” Levi sounded as bored as ever, and you almost huffed a laugh.

Dirt scoffed, in irritation that he wouldn’t get to sever your spine with brute force.

“Very well. However, I must ask you to stand back. She swings like a stallion’s cock sometimes,” If it weren’t directed at you, you would have laughed at the comment. In any other situation, it would have been rather funny.

Just not this one.

Levi had never felt so sick. As soon as he walked in, seeing you strung up like that, helplessly, he had to force down the instinct to rip every one of these torturous bastards to ribbons. He’d never had to have such a tight hold on his emotions in his life, because if that hold slipped…

This would become a blood bath.

“Anyway Raven, where were we?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. You knew he remembered. He was just trying to provoke a response out of you. But knowing Levi was here gave you a strength you weren’t expecting.

Looking up through your hair, you shot a glare through the thick, matted strands.

“Choke on your own blood, fuckface,” you spat, kicking weakly towards him. It wasn’t the show of defiance you’d wanted, but it seemed to get the message across. You were prepared for whatever consequences there would be for such a demonstration.

The repercussions came immediately. Roughly digging his fingers into your chin, Dirt forced you head up to look at him, his face a picture of mock amusement.

Levi’s jaw clenched.

“Come now Raven. Not trying to impress Captain Levi now, are you?” your eyes flickered over to Levi, his expression unreadable, grey hues trained on the two of you. A rumble of laughter echoed around the chamber as Dirt took in your spiteful expression. “Now I’m left wondering, how somebody like you could come from somebody like your pathetic father. How somebody so defiant, so fucking strong,” —he harshly jabbed at your stomach with the hilt of his bat— “Could be the daughter of somebody so weak,”

“Shut the fuck up,” you rasp, hot fury surging through your veins. How fucking dare he? How dare he insult your father this way. He was a good man. An honest man. He did nothing wrong. Nothing to warrant his or your mother’s death.

“Hm. No, I think I’ll keep talking. This might finally break you.”

“I’ll fucking KILL YOU,” the hook keeping your arms above your head creaked as you thrashed, trying to free yourself to wrap your hands around his goddamn throat.

“You should have heard his cries. His pathetic whimpers as we carved into his flesh. They were… amusing.” No. This wouldn’t be your downfall. You refused. This wasn’t it. You would not be broken by this.

“At least tell me what he died for. At least tell me why you took him, you shit-eating pig!” you spat viciously, trying once again to get free. It was infuriating more than anything. You had so many questions, never knowing why your parents had been killed. Why you came back to your house in disarray, crimson staining the floorboards as your mother’s blood drained from the gash in her throat. Your father, nowhere to be found.

Though he managed to keep his expression neutral, Levi thought back to your father. For the short time he knew him, he was a kind man. He did what he could for the people around him, always feeding those who looked starving. He was convinced that was where you got your compassion from. Why the hell would they take him and torture him?

“Why? He didn’t tell you? Interesting. Your father knew the location of The Nest long before you became our problem. You thought it was a coincidence Viper just happened to take you in? Please, this job was enjoyable enough, don’t make me laugh with your naivety as well,”

“You’re lying. My father was a baker. He was a good man. He wasn’t involved in our criminal shit!”

“Have you noticed a pattern in your life, Raven? Have you noticed how we tried everything to prevent you from falling down this path?” your jaw flickered at Dirt’s tone, mocking you as if they had done you a service.

“We thought your father would introduce you to a life of crime, so we got rid of him for you. When you fell into the care of Viper; well, we got rid of him for you as well,” his smile was snake-like as flashes from that night plagued your mind. Pressed up against the wall as your mentor was savagely dealt with. Begging at them. Screaming at them to stop. To let him go. Only for them to raise a rifle to his head, and paint the wall with his blood.

Dirt imitated a gun with his fingers, putting them up to your forehead.

“Bang.”

Slowly, you stopped thrashing, though the hatred in your veins didn’t cool. You simmered silently, raising your eyes once again. No tears. No sorrow. Nothing but feigned indifference flickered in the low light.

Dirt looked at you for a moment, eyebrows creasing in irritation as he stepped back, twirling the bad in his hands before repeatedly cracking it against your empty stomach. Levi only just managed to control his breathing as he watched helplessly, flinching subtly as every blow connected with your too-skinny body. Clearly Dirt was taking out some intense frustration. He’d just managed to compose himself when the bastard’s eyes turned to him. That fucking smile poisoned his features as he extended the handle of the weapon.

“Captain Levi. She killed a few of your men, did she not? Why don’t you see if you can break the whore?” You almost scoffed in amusement. Levi wouldn’t do that. Not to you. Not after everything the two of you had been through.

You’d finally found each other again.

You were so sure.

You were so sure of yourself.

You were so sure of him.

You’d rekindled that trust over the last week.

You’d rekindled something you thought was dead.

You were so sure.

Until he took the handle.

And the white hot knife of betrayal twisted into your gut once again.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Shit.

The weight of the bat felt ten times heavier than anything he’s ever held in his life. The weight of what he was about to do.

Fuck.

As excruciating as this was to watch, he knew it was ten times worse for you. He knew every blow, every crack, was undoing hours of hard work soothing your aches and bruises. Each thud against your body sent jolts of electricity through him. Nerve ends alight with adrenaline, heart beating as if he was about to fight every single one of these bastards just to get them away from you.

Still you have not broken. He couldn’t pinpoint the slight warmth in his chest, couldn’t comprehend what it was. Was he impressed? Surprised?

Proud…?

Levi wasn’t sure if the look of soul shattering betrayal in your eyes was worth it as his hands gripped the cool metal, slightly slickened with your blood.

He would explain it to you.

He would.

Once you were back in your cell, he would tell you why he did it.

But for now, his glare only darkened as he stepped forward. He couldn’t stand the expression on your face. Confused bewilderment, as if trying to work out what he was thinking.

Levi begged you to stop. Stop looking at him like that. Stop trying to work him out because not even he knew if this was the right thing to do.

It was almost a relief when your wide eyes clouded with heartbreaking realisation and acceptance.

A hiss escaped your lips at the first crack. Somehow, this felt more painful than anything those pitiful soldiers could do. Your eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard you were afraid it would shatter into a million pieces.

Each blow felt so precise. So measured and controlled. It stung your heart more than anything else. You’d been betrayed. Again. For the second time in a week. Betrayed by the two people you’d ever loved. Scarlett, who’d picked you up when you were sure nobody else could. Who nursed your broken bones and your broken soul.

And by the first man who ever held your heart.

And truthfully, still did.

Was that all this last week had been?

A ploy just to fuck with you. To earn your trust only to immediately shatter you once again? To break your spirit? Granted, nobody knew the nature of your relationship between you and Levi, but that didn’t matter. The man you loved had just stabbed you in the back.

Again.

So much had happened in the last week. So much had been brought to the surface. It would take years to unpack it all, not that you had any intention of doing that. You just wanted it all gone. To bury it with your fathers. To never think about it again.

You were dragged from your thoughts by a shock of agony sparking up your spine, stemming from your lower back. It was Dirt’s favourite place to attack. Whenever he thought you were being too feisty, too aggressive. He would land as many blows to your lower back as he saw fit.

Admittedly, you doubted Levi knew you’d been snapping back spitefully all session before he arrived, but that didn’t quell the raging fire of hatred as your lips parted without your permission.

A broken cry of anguished agony wracked from your chest, chilling the air of the humid chamber.

Levi froze, horror flashing across his usually schooled features.

He’d broken you.

Levi had broken you.

And with it, any bond he’d managed to salvage over the last week. Any bridge he’d started to rebuild now came crashing down around him.

That one well placed crack had ripped away at your resolve, exposing the tired, hurt, beaten girl beneath.

The room seemed to have stilled. All falling into quiet awe at what had just happened. A slow clap split the stagnant air as Dirt walked up from where he was leaning against the wall. Levi was tempted to turn the bat on him, but he found himself unable to move.

“Your reputation precedes you, Captain. Striking her lower back like that after leaving it to simmer? Genius! We should have asked you to join us earlier,” Dirt cackled in delight as he produced a knife from his pocket. Reaching up, he easily sliced through the ropes binding your hands.

Stone rose up to greet your body as you fell uselessly to the ground, legs too weak to hold you.

“Oh dear. Are you dead? Maybe you and your father had more in common that I originally thought,”

“Enough.” Dirt’s jeering was interrupted by the no-bullshit tones of Levi, causing the soldier to whirl around. He’d finally managed to find his voice, once again reining himself in.

“But Captain Levi, Sir, she’s The Raven. Don’t you think she deserves some extra time with us tonight?”

“If you don’t leave now I’ll make sure it’s you who won’t be able to walk. Go,” you couldn’t tell if this was a blessing or a curse. If he was an angel or a demon.

Actually no, scratch that.

He was a demon, and this was a curse.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as you heard busy footsteps around you, assuming the four horsemen were gathering their effects.

“I do hope you make her crawl back to her cell, Captain. We all know your reputation for cleanliness. It would be a shame to dirty your hands touching this filthy whore,” Dirt drawled one more savage insult, before you heard his echoing steps get further and further away. You hoped the day would never come where you had to see his face again.

The silence in the room now was suffocating. You could both feel the emotions radiating off each other now the MPs were gone. He could feel your loathing, and you could feel his disgust. Or what you thought was disgust. What you assumed was disgust.

How could he not be disgusted? He must be. To do what he just did. You didn’t understand why he would come down everyday and help you if he felt such hatred towards you.

No, that’s a lie.

You did understand.

But that truth hurt so much more than anything else tonight.

It had sowed the seed of doubt in your mind. You knew you weren’t a good person. In fact, to most soldiers and nobles you were a devil. But you’d always clung onto the hope that everything you did was to help people. You stole medicine, you slit the throats of rapists, you provided weapons to those who didn’t have enough to fend for themselves.

There was a small part of you that truly believed you were doing good.

That small part had just been crushed, along with several bones.

Gathering what little strength you had, you extended a limp arm in front of you. Fuck it, you weren’t going to sleep here on a floor soiled by your own sweat, blood and saliva.

You would crawl if you had to.

“(Y/N)...” all he wanted to do was hold you. All he’d wanted to do since he’d found you again was hold you. He’d been so close yesterday, but he’d fucked that up.

Now he was sure you’d never willingly let him hold you again. The bat fell from his hand as if he’d realised it was covered in poison, heart clenching at the way you instinctively threw your arms above your head, terrified of some other attack.

You hated how his voice carried so much comfort. Hated how it soothed your raging mind. God you wanted nothing more than to rip his fucking tongue out and make sure he never spoke to you like that again.

A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, forcing you to stop.

“Get… get the fuck… off me… Get the fuck off me,” you couldn’t fight back as he tucked his arms under your legs and upper back, wincing as he lifted you into his grip. “Don’t… Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no strength left in you to push against him as he carried you back, but that didn’t stop you from weakly hitting the arms that held you.

You didn’t understand. One moment he was savagely beating you, and the next he was cradling you against his chest, holding you close as he took you to your cell.

Laying you down, he hoped you understood why he did what he did. It was a fool’s hope, he knew.

He realised you definitely didn’t understand when you started fighting back.

With a sudden surge of strength, you lunged for him. It was a weak attack, and you didn’t really know what you were trying to achieve as you threw yourself towards him with a cry of anguished rage, but you also didn’t care.

“I fucking trusted you,” you spat in between your flailing limbs. It really didn’t take long for Levi to pin your arms either side of your head, hovering over your body.

“(Y/N), stop,” He tightened his grip on your wrists as you struggled against his hold. It would have been a real test of strength for both of you had you not spent the last week having the life beaten out of you. You were weaker than you’d ever been, and he was taking advantage.

“I was right the first time. You don’t get to call me that. You don’t ever get to call me that. You sick, twisted BASTARD. So that was why you lied to me. That was why you didn’t tell me why you were helping me. You fucking coward, is that all you were doing? Convincing me I was safe with you? Tricking me into thinking you still actually cared about me you filthy fucking LIAR,” you barked a mirthless laugh, baring your teeth in a visceral snarl. “I swear to you Levi, I will not fucking stop until my knife is buried your goddamn THROAT!” you struggled again, twisting as much as you could beneath him, trying to free your arms, your hands, anything that could help you take him down.

He deserved this. He knew he did. Levi looked into the burning betrayal in your eyes and knew he deserved this. He would take every verbal blow you threw at him because he knew he deserved it. But he had to explain. He didn’t care. You could hurl whatever you wanted at him, but he wouldn’t leave until he had the chance to explain himself.

Then he would never see you again.

If that’s what you wanted.

“Just calm down, for a minute, please,” you hadn’t heard him beg like that in a very, very long time. Shit, you fucking hated what it did to you. In this position, your wrists held above your head, his arms caging you in, his legs either side of your hips...

The room suddenly felt far too warm.

“What could you possibly have to say to me? I fucking trusted you. You disgusting son-of-a-bitch. I can’t believe I actually thought—“

Levi finally lost his temper.

“What? You thought what? That just because we found each other again we’d play happy families? Grow the fuck up, Raven,” he spat your alias, finally releasing all the fury he’d pent up. He knew this was a mistake. None of this was your fault. He’d been angry with how you’d been treated. Utterly beside himself at Erwin.

And you were taking the fall for it.

“I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t have a fucking choice. If anyone saw me treat you any differently, they would start to question it. They would question why I was showing pity to a criminal. The Raven, no less. And I can’t—”

“Oh I’m sorry, I would hate to ruin your reputation, Captain,” you struck back with just as much venom. Just as much fury.

“Let me finish. I can’t let them get to you anymore than they already have. It was either them or—”

“Because I’m just so import—” you almost cried out as the grip on your wrists tightened, knowing they would leave yet another bruise on your body.

“Let. Me. Finish.” Levi narrowed his eyes, returning the glare you were holding on him and not continuing until you yielded, finally looking away and clamping your mouth shut. “It was either them or me. I could let them continue to beat the shit out of you mercilessly, or I could do it myself. I could try and make it better. I couldn’t fucking watch that shit anymore. I couldn’t fucking stand it. Those filthy bastards laying their dirty hands on you. Hurting you. Shit, you were half dead when I walked in. I was scared you were for a moment. Terrified they were just beating a corpse. But you’re so much stronger than I ever gave you credit for. They never fucking broke you. And they never will. Because if they touch you again, if they fucking look at you, I will go the the ends of the goddamn earth and tear them apart, because I care about you,” Levi hadn’t noticed he was panting. He hadn’t noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks. He didn’t think his self hatred could sink any deeper, but now he’d made you cry silent tears.

Loosening his grip on your wrists, he looked at you as though he’d been responsible for your murder.

“So, it was mercy? That’s what’s considered merciful up here?” you couldn’t really believe it. Twice in two days Levi had spoken more to you than you thought he ever did back when you belonged to each other. You didn’t think you’d ever sounded so small. So vulnerable. “Let me ask you this, Levi. Was it merciful on me, or merciful on you? Because you sure as hell didn’t make things better for me,” despite the quieter volume, your voice was still harsh.

But you had to know.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him in and thread your hands through his hair. To feel his body against yours. For his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. But you had to know whether he did this for you, or himself.

You understood now. You really did. And put in the same situation, you didn’t think you’d do any differently.

“Honestly…? Merciful to me. I couldn't bear it. I tried. I tried so fucking hard. But I couldn’t let them hurt you anymore,” his voice was no louder than a choked, guilt ridden whisper.

That’s all you needed to hear. Slipping your wrists free of his hands, you reached up. Cupping the sides of his face, you brought him down to you, since you couldn’t exactly sit up and go to him.

As soon as your lips returned home to his, you couldn’t stop the few tears from escaping your closed eyes.

Levi’s own eyes widened, and he was suddenly convinced he was dead. Was this actually happening? After everything he’s just done, everything he’s just said.

You forgave him?

When your tongue gently skirted his bottom lip, he decided contemplating forgiveness was something for later. Terrified of hurting you further, he rested his weight on his elbows, finally closing his eyes. He’d wanted this for so long. Since he laid eyes on you for the first time in ten years, he’d wanted nothing more than to envelop your mouth with his own.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t mind when his hand came up to gently caress the apple of your cheek. You didn’t mind when you opened your lips for his tongue to hesitantly slip in and explore your mouth, that slick muscle moving against yours. You didn’t mind when his hand travelled down to cup the side of your neck, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

Neither of you wanted to break away, having waited far too long for this moment. You reveled in the groan he emitted down your throat as your left hand found its way to his undercut, gently scratching and caressing in desperation. You hadn’t heard that sound in so long and you instantly craved more.

Levi’s eyes rolled back into his skull behind his closed lids, feeling your hands in his hair. God, he didn’t want to fuck you in a cell, but your hands and tongue were making it difficult for him to control himself.

He was the first to pull back, instantly missing the warmth of your mouth.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, looking down into your eyes. You could see the swirling confusion in those sterling orbs as they flickered in the low light. You could see the arousal in his dark pupils. Feel it against your inner thigh. You wanted to take him right here and now, but not only did you acknowledge the fact you were literally in a prison cell…

You weren’t sure you were ready. Not yet. Not after everything.

“Levi… if you had done that for my sake, I would have shattered both your kneecaps,” you earned yourself a gentle laugh, his thumb coming up to smooth down your eyebrow. “But you didn’t. I know you feel selfish, and I know you hate yourself for it, but I also know that it was either that, or you beat them to death with that goddamn bat. I know you, Levi. You haven’t changed much yourself,” your left hand came back, softly carding through those ebony bangs.

Levi felt like he could fly. Felt as though you’d returned the wings he’d lost when he thought he’d never see you again.

(Y/N), I want to apolo—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

With that, you stretched up to capture his mouth again, instantly feeling like you’d come back home. You didn’t care about the surge of pain coursing through your abdomen and back. That’s what he was to you.

He was home.

You felt his length twitch in his constraints as both your hands found purchase in his hair, gently tugging at the black strands.

“Fuck…” he breathed into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily as you sucked his lower lip between your teeth.

You kept having to consciously remind yourself that you are in fact in a dank, filthy cell. And enveloping him between you increasingly slick folds was wildly inappropriate.

Levi thought it was entirely unfair how you were managing to drag whines and moans from him with nothing but your fingers and teeth. So he decided it was his turn to give something back.

His hand travelled down your body, almost instinctively finding the crease in your thighs. He swallowed his own groan of ecstasy as his knuckles grazed his arousal, opting instead to focus on the way your hips rose to meet the pads of his fingers, gently rubbing your swollen, clothed clit. His circular motions drawing out those small whimpers he’d craved to hear.

“Mmn, L-Levi... ACK, fuck!” your moan of pleasure turned into a small cry of pain as your abs contracted, sending yet another lightning bolt through your system. Levi withdrew his hand immediately, eyes instantly clearing and recognising your signs of discomfort.

“Shit (Y/N), your back,” you felt your heart swell at his concern, though internally cursed yourself.

“‘S’fine,” you insisted, rising up once again to grasp his lips with yours, only to be met with thin air and you ex(?) lover looking down at you.

“No, it’s not. C’mere,” Levi sighed and lifted himself off you, careful not to cause you any further damage. He looked for permission before gently turning you on your side, as if your tongue hadn’t been down his throat less than thirty seconds ago. He cursed his erection, finding himself a little hindered by it as he walked over to the faucet, allowing himself a few moments reprieve before removing the handkerchief from his pocket and running it under the tap.

Though the mirror was cracked, he could still see his slightly swollen lips, distorted against the spider webbing fractures. Could still see the mark you’d left on his face. Shit, he wished for those marks to be left elsewhere. His mind wandered back to the way you used to settle between his thighs, teasing him until you got him to crack. He loved the way you could coerce broken pleas from his throat. Adored the black-blue bites you left on the inside of his thighs, before your warmth enveloped him. Your flexible muscle flicking up and down his sensitive length, running over that prominent vein he hadn’t felt you caress in too long. He missed feeling the vibrations of your chuckle when he begged for you to let him cum. When he felt his balls tighten with release, and yet you denied him still.

But most of all he missed tasting you. He missed the way your arousal freely leaked onto his tongue. He missed the way your hips rose to meet his fingers, that breathy gasp when he found your hidden spot. The begs and cries you made when you wanted him to let you cum. When you whined for his dick to replace his fingers. Fuck, he missed the way your thighs locked his head between them as he brought you to climax with nothing but his tongue flicking over you little, sensitive button. Over, and over, and over again.

“Having trouble?” you grinned from your position on the sorry excuse for a mattress. You’d managed to turn yourself over to watch him, disregarding any agony you felt. You wouldn’t miss this for the world. You wouldn’t miss seeing Levi all riled up and unable to focus simply because of the administrations with your mouth.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, turning the faucet off and ringing out the cloth in the sink. You chuckled at his tone and his predicament, loving every second of it. Though you couldn’t miss the small glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Oi, turn back ‘round. ‘Need to get to your back,”

“I bet you do,”

“(Y/N)...” he warned, with no real malice in his tone. If this was any other man, you would have lunged at them for taking that tone with you. But this was Levi. Your Levi. You knew he would never hurt you. Not unless absolutely necessary.

Case and point: hitting you with a bat to avoid a murder charge.

Begrudgingly, you tore your eyes from his face, haphazardly twisting on the mattress to face away from him.

“Hm, good girl,” Levi purred, eyes gleaming at the way your thighs clenched in reaction. But any spark of arousal was swiftly extinguished, when your body twitched away from his as he took his seat behind you.

You clenched your eyes shut, hating yourself for the reaction you couldn’t control. You didn’t blame Viper for your now primal fear. You knew he was just teaching you what you needed to know, but he had no fatherly experience, and possibly caused more harm than good.

“‘M’ sorry, it’s not you, I promise. I just—”

“No. No apologising. It’s not your fault,” you nodded, not trusting your voice not to crack if you spoke up now.

Levi thought hard about how he wanted to do this without causing any more reaction from you. Attempting to keep his mind from wandering too far, he tried to understand what made you comfortable enough to bring him onto your mouth. To gently tug on his lower lip. To thread your hands through his hair and--

“I have an idea… (Y/N), watch what I’m doing,” you did as he asked, turning your neck as much as you could to watch the movements of his hand. You tensed as his palm hovered over your side. But when you didn’t feel anything, you unscrewed one tightly shut eye, peering at him curiously.

“(Y/N), can you raise your body for me, just to reach my hand?” this might actually work. Levi had been wracking his brains for a way for you to feel comfortable again with touch.

Hesitantly, you slowly raised your body to meet his fingers, almost freezing as you felt no reaction. You didn’t tense, you didn’t instantly balk under his touch.

You hadn’t cried in years, and yet throughout the course of this long, long night, you had cried twice, the corners of your lashes growing damp as a tear slipped down the side of your face.

Growing increasingly concerned by your lack of response, Levi was about to move his hand from your side, but was immediately stopped by your own fingers covering his.

“Don’t. Stay. Don’t move away,” his heart burned at your broken plea, his worried expression softening in slight relief.

“I won’t. (Y/N), I’m not going to touch you without your permission. Ever. But, if you’re comfortable with it, we can do this. If you’re happy with this,” Levi gently moved his thumb against the fabric of your shirt, caressing your side. Your choked laugh of happy disbelief caused his small smile to broaden ever so slightly.

“Yes. Yes i’m happy with this,” still having trouble believing this was truly happening, you closed your eyes in bliss, allowing a few more tears to escape.

“Okay, I’m going to move your shirt up, alright?” your heart sung at his sincerity, nodding silently once again as you felt the fabric of your shirt bunch up ever so carefully. You loved how he always made you feel so precious. Nothing was precious in the Underground, but somehow he always made you feel worth diamonds and gold. You’d forgotten what that was like, until the damp cloth once again soothed your aching welts, chasing away the throbs of pain.

Those spears of guilt once again plunged into Levi’s heart as he saw what they had done to you. What he’d done to you. You were always so forgiving when it came to him. You always have been. He could lock himself in his room for days, not speak to you for hours on end and you would always be there to hold him when the pressure finally cracked. Always there to soothe him when he opened up after long weeks of isolation. When those memories of his mother dragged up again. When the day Kenny left forced him to hide away until he couldn’t take it anymore.

You always forgave him.

And could always sense what he was thinking.

He came back to the present when your hand squeezed his, as if you knew where his mind had taken him.

“It’s okay, Levi,” your soft reassurance broke his heart.

“I should be saying that to you,”

“Go on then,” you retorted, not even trying to hide the mischief in your voice

Levi chuckled, moving his hand from under yours to stroke your hair.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),”

“I feel thoroughly reassured,”

“Tch, shut up brat,” god, at this point your heart could have been a choir. Singing once again at the soft amusement gently lacing his tone. But you internally cringed as fingers threaded through your grimy hair, reaching up to move it away.

“Levi, don’t. It’s fucking filthy,”

“So’s your face but I recall sucking on it a few moments ago,”

“Levi!” you couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was never one to make such jokes. But you couldn’t deny you loved it. Loved his low, breathy laugh at your indignant call of his name.

“What? Am I wrong?” you couldn’t see his slightly cheeky smirk behind you. Or the way one brow raised in feigned curiosity.

“Well no, but—”

“Didn’t think so.”

“God you’re insufferable. Anyone would think you’re— OW!” you turned to look back at him in mock anger. He didn’t actually hurt you, and by looking at your swiftly disintegrating expresion, Levi was able to decipher you were just fucking with him. Rolling his eyes, he continued his administration with the cloth, watching fondly as you settled back down.

You only spoke again when that hand in your hair started moving.

“Levi, seriously, it’s gross. Just focus on my back,” when he didn’t reply, you once again twisted back to look at him, unable to decipher the expression on his face.

“Stay here,”

“Like I’m in any condition to move, asshole,”

“Tch, don’t be difficult. I’ll be back in a minute,” with a final caress of your head, Levi chucked the cloth back into the sink before standing to his feet. You were a bit of a sorry sight, lying on your side, shirt ridden up to reveal your bruised, still bloodied back. He’d managed to gently scrub off most of the crimson staining your skin, but he wanted to provide you with just a little more comfort, if he could.

You didn’t even try to escape when he left the door open. Too tired to move. Your limbs felt like lead everytime you attempted to shift, exhaustion clinging to your bones like shackles. You didn’t know how long you waited, but you felt yourself start to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to help yourself marvel at how easy it would be to slip into a deep sleep. Your mind was far too heavy to sift through the lake of emotions you’d found yourself submerged in. Just as you were about to succumb to the call of rest, your faultless alert system brought you back to consciousness, adrenaline injected into your veins as you shot upright at the sound of footsteps.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” your brittle nerves settled at the sound of his calming voice, heart leaping when you saw what he carried in his arms.

Levi had brought everything he thought he would need. A small metal basin containing a small flannel, a wash-cloth, a small cup, the shower soap and hair conditioner from his own quarters and a large towel to spare the mattress of the water. Kicking the cell door almost closed with his foot, Levi crossed to the sink once again, setting out the contents on the cracked porcelain before filling the basin.

He left the faucet running, turning back to you with the town folded on his arm.

“Gonna need you to move if we want to set this down,” you raised a suggestive eyebrow, mouth pulling into a small smirk. Levi rolled his eyes. “Not like that, brat. Unless you want to sleep on a damp mattress. It’s up to you, really,” the amused spark in his eye betrayed his neutral, blank face as you gently shimmied down the bed, making a space for him to set the towel down.

You watched as he removed his jacket, mouth watering ever so slightly as his shirt clung to his back, unable to tear your eyes away from the movement of his muscles. They had certainly developed well.

“Oi, stop ogling,” he smirked to you over his shoulder, earning a sly grin from you in response.

“Can’t help it,” you chimed, eyes flicking to his forearms as he rolled up his sleeves. Fuck, if only you weren’t in a jail cell. Or utterly filthy. Or just not ready for that yet.

If only you didn’t have a thousand things stopping you from pushing him against the wall and engulfing his cock in down your throat.

But for now, you just had to settle with undressing and fucking him with your eyes. Something that clearly didn’t go unnoticed, if the way he writhed slightly under your pinning gaze was anything to go by.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Levi tried to steer his thoughts away from his length stiffening once again. Fuck, the way you were staring at him, he was starting to feel hot beneath his shirt, despite the naturally cool temperature of the room. Your heated chuckle only fueled the flames.

“Aw, why? Are you hard?” you teased, raking your eyes up and down his figure, lingering on the small tent in his crotch. You shifted slightly, almost groaning as the mattress below you rubbed against your swollen folds.

“Tch, obviously. And I’m not going to deal with it in this filthy prison cell, so don’t make it worse brat,” Levi marvelled at your laugh. A proper, head thrown back laugh. He couldn’t stop the fond smile spreading across his face at the sight.

“Alright alright, I’ll stop eye-fuckinig you,” you managed to say, after regaining some sort of composure.

“You’re filthy,”

“Isn’t that why you’re about to bathe me?” you tilted your head slightly, watching him lift the basin from the sink after turning off the faucet. He didn’t deem your comment worthy of a response, opting instead to look back at you with a blank, deadpan expression. Tucking everything else under his arm, Levi returned back to your side. He thought for a moment about how he wanted to do this before, wedging the water basin between his legs.

“Lie back, place your head on my lap. Gonna’ wash your hair,” he instructed, busying himself with getting the small, brown bottle of hair soap. But he paused upon sensing your hesitation. Looking back to you, he searched your face, before slowly bringing his hand up.

You shied away, closing your eyes instinctively, almost bracing yourself for the contact that never came.

“Hey, not gonna touch you without permission, remember?” you opened your eyes to see his hand hovering next to your cheek. He was waiting for your next move, and you could see the slight hopeful spark in his eye.

So slowly, you tilted your head enough to gently nuzzle into his palm, your own hand coming up to keep him against your face.

Levi smoothed the skin under your eye with his thumb, trying his damndest not to let any tears well up in his eyes.

Unbeknownst to him, you were attempting to do the same. Not wanting him to see you cry for the third goddamn time tonight. But it became impossible when he said something you didn’t know you needed to hear.

“I missed you so much, firefly,” your breath hitched in your throat at the old nickname. He’d only ever use it in the softest moments in the Underground. Stroking your hair whilst lying in his bed. Staying up and keeping you company when you’d shoot awake from a nightmare. He was never one for nicknames, so one day when he, out of the blue, called you his firefly;

you’d almost cried.

Your eyes widened, hand gently squeezing his own to ground yourself. You let out something halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“I missed you too. So, so much,” you hardly had to move forward before your face was nestled in the crook of his neck, his arms slowly tucking you against his body. “I missed you so much,” you whispered again.

Levi didn’t think he’d ever been this happy, at least not for a long, long time. Ecstatic you felt comfortable enough to let him hold you. Though he was usually so good at keeping his feelings to himself, so much had happened over the last week, he felt the walls to his emotional dam cracking ever so slightly, a few tears lining his closed eyes. He could feel the collar of his shirt dampen as you shed silent tears, his thumb rubbing small circles against your back.

Levi held you like this for what felt like hours. Content to just be in each other’s arms once again. In reality, it had only been a few minutes before he gently shifted you so the back of your head rested against his lap.

“Never known you to be such a cry-baby,” he lightly teased, gathering what he could of your hair and soaking it within the basin still wedged between his knees.

“I’m not. I haven’t cried in years. Literally. Probably since Viper’s—” you stopped yourself, not expecting the casual statement to hurt quite as much as it did. “Viper’s death,” you finished quietly, eyes avoiding any direct contact with his own.

Levi took note of your tone change, reaching for the hair soap. He was only vaguely aware of the relationship between you and the old Nest leader. Finding out through those vile MPs.

“Want to talk about it?” The tone of his question matched yours as he lathered the gel into your now cleaner locks to make sure the grime and grease was properly dealt with.

“Honestly? Not yet. Maybe not ever. I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Not even Prongs, or Wolf, and they were his Shadows before mine,” you fell silent for a moment, before looking back to him. “How did you do it? How did you just… leave everything behind?”

Levi sighed at the innocence of your question. The raw guilt he knew you were feeling. Knowing you were up here, safe, warm, comfortable, whilst so many people down there were still suffering. Still dying from easily preventable illnesses.

“I didn’t. Not really. I still find myself thinking back to those poor sods down there. But I couldn’t think about it for too long, because I would find myself thinking back to you,” his hand stroked the top of your now damp forehead, smoothing down the wet locks of your hair.

The basin sloshed slightly as you nodded, disheartened by the fact that this feeling of suffocating guilt would probably never leave you. Levi saw this in your face. He saw the exact same swirl of emotions he felt when he knew he would never return.

But you’d left behind so much more than he did. You had a trusted group. A family who would only know what happened to you through the words of that young girl.

“They’ll be safe, (Y/N). He may be an asshole sometimes, but I trust Erwin. He wouldn’t break his word,” running his hands through your soaked hair, Levi gently teased the knots out with his fingers, easily gliding through the now freed strands.

His reassurance calmed your worries. Levi hardly trusted anyone, you only ever knew him to trust Isobel, Farlan and yourself. This Erwin guy must have really made an impression.

Reaching back to the small flannel he’d brought down with him, he began drying your hair, setting the basin to one side. You didn’t think you’d ever felt this pampered. This well looked after. You thought you could certainly get used to it. Returning your thoughts to the conversation, you exhaled a sigh.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… My job was to take care of them. My job was to stop something like this from happening. Our entire operation was compromised because my shitty partner couldn’t get over some grudge she had against a boy she’d never met,” you poked his chest as he rolled his eyes, looking down at you with a brow raised.

“So it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that,”

“You implied it,”

“Oh don’t be so sensitive,”

“I wasn’t the one who cheated,”

You almost sat bolt upright at that, if it weren’t for him anticipating the movement. What did he mean ‘cheat’? You didn’t cheat. You would never cheat. Loyalty ran through your veins like blood, and if you weren’t so incredulous you would have spotted the smallest hint of mischief in his steely eyes.

“Wh— Cheat? I didn’t cheat. What makes you think that?” your genuine concern broke his heart, and he almost felt bad for teasing you like this.

Almost.

Taking your face in both his hands, Levi failed to suppress the fugitive smirk on his face.

“We technically never broke up, brat,” you breathed a sigh of relief, before turning back to scowl at him, tempted to lightly smack the back of his head.

“Don’t fucking scare me like that, asshole,” your scowl held no heat, too relieved that he was just being pedantic rather than actually implying you would ever be disloyal. But your glare melted away at the rumble of a chuckle emitting from his chest. You rolled your eyes, trying your best to feign annoyance and failing miserably.  

Removing the small towel from your now damp hair, Levi deemed it dry enough for you to sleep on without catching a cold.

“There. Think you can do the rest yourself? I don’t wanna… make you uncomfortable or anything,” it was your turn for your heart to break, his consideration for your comfort and wellbeing always seemed to be his top priority. You took his hand in yours, gently stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

“You’ve done more than enough,” earnest gratitude swam in your eyes and it was all Levi could do not to stoop down and kiss you.

Instead, he stayed put for a little while longer, stealing all the seconds he could. He’d realised, with you joining the Survey Corps, you two wouldn’t be able to do this anymore. The company you’d both enjoyed for the past week would be ripped away by expeditions, training and paperwork.

So he greedily took as much time as the two of you could spare, before you would inevitably have to part ways.

“I have to go, (Y/N),” Levi whispered, although every part of him was longing to stay, especially when your face slowly fell in realisation.

“I know,” you tried to mask your melancholy with a gentle smile, but your voice betrayed you, breaking slightly as you spoke. Neither of you wanted to be the one to move. Neither of you wanted to be the first to burst the protective bubble of familiarity you both knew you wouldn’t feel again for a long, long time.

But to save him from doing it himself, you were the one to shift, allowing him to rise from the bed.

“I’ll uh, leave all this here and collect it early in the morning,” Levi shifted slightly awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his hair. You nodded, adjusting yourself carefully. Your midsection didn’t hurt as much, more of an echoing throb, but you were still cautious nonetheless.

“Right, yeah. Probably a good idea, before anyone sees,” you shrugged, avoiding having to look at his face. You knew it would break both of you if you’d asked whether there was any chance of him staying.

Just for a little while longer.

“I’ll see you soon… Raven,” you felt your soul crack as he replaced your name with your alias. You knew it was right. You knew it was for the best. But that wouldn’t stop every fiber of your being shattering.

Levi hated how you said nothing as he turned to leave. He pretended not to notice your heartbreak as he deliberately called you Raven. He suppressed the urge to pick you up and take you with him. To carry you to his bed and cage you in his arms as you both fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

He didn’t know your prolonged silence was because you were gathering your courage. Silently arguing with yourself over what was right and what was wrong until you stopped him by calling his name.

“Levi…” There was no turning back now. You took a breath, finally raising your eyes to meet his now on the other side of the bars. “I—” love you.

You immediately stopped yourself, finding those three words caught in your throat. You couldn’t say them. Shit, you couldn’t say them.

You were a coward.

“Thank you,”

Levi stayed searching your face. He knew. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted to say. Because that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He let loose a breath he didn’t know he was holding, giving you one last look of badly masked longing, before turning away.

“Training starts tomorrow,” though the words themselves were cold, his tone was laced with mourning as his footsteps echoed out of earshot, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Levi had managed all but three steps into the hallway before his name was called by an irritatingly familiar voice.

“Ah, Levi. Good. My office. Now, if you’re not busy,” Erwin had a way of saying ‘if you’re not busy’ that sounded like he was really saying ‘there is absolutely no debate in this, you could be bleeding out and missing an arm and I would still expect you in my office within the next five minutes’. Levi knew he didn’t exactly have a choice.

“Sure. Let me make some tea and I’ll be right there,” he knew he’d made a mistake. The look in Erwin’s cerulean eyes told him that the tall blonde had figured something out. Something dangerous that could compromise his relationship with you.

Actually, he’d probably figured out he had a relationship with you.

Shit…

He was in so much trouble.

[mercurial-madhouse]

Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.

My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.

************

This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.

***

We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.

However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.

Have a great week!

- [redacted] Mods

***

This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.

I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.

The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.

The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.

I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.

I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.

The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.

I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.

So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.

I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.

I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.

Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.

I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”

This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.

In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.

Pain only comes from pain.

The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.

So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.

Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?

I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?

I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.

Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.

They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.

I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.

We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.

Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.

So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:

I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.

Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.

So here, now, is my truth:

I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.

I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.

I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.

I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.

This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.

Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.

So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.

You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.

[wiypt-writes]

Guilty As Charged

Guilty As Charged: Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: Defence Attorney James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the absolute bane of your life…

Pairing: Lawyer AU Bucky Barnes x Reader (Frenemies!)

Warnings: Bad language words.

Word Count- Under 2k

A/N:  This was originally posted on my old blog ages ago, but I’ve just given it a little polish and thought, seeing as I’m on the Bucky Train at the moment, I’d bring it back. Also, my knowledge on US Criminal Law is sketchy at best, so humour me…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist // Main Masterlist

*******

In God We Trust, the words set about the Judge’s podium were fixed in your vision, motes of dust moving freely in the rays of sunlight which were streaming through the large, ornate windows of the court room and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, concentrating on expelling the nerves you were feeling with the air that left your mouth and lungs.

No matter how many times you were in this position, the reading of the verdict still got to you. Your gaze turned to the jury, as the judge did the same, that all important question ringing across the room, the air stiflingly tense.

“On the charge of murder in the first degree, do you find the defendant or not guilty"

“Not guilty.”

Fuck.

Cheers from the defendants family drowned out your loud groan as you rubbed at your temple. Looking over at your colleague, Sam, you shook your head in utter disbelief.

The judge continued through the remaining charges, second-degree murder and voluntary manslaughter, and your despair grew as the same verdict was returned for each.

You’d lost. And it stung, not merely because of your near perfect conviction rate, but for the family of the victim you were one-hundred percent convinced the accused.

"Y/N this wasn't your fault.” Sam stated in a low voice but you simply sighed again and shrugged.

"I was sure they'd see through his lies,” you glanced over to your right where the defence team, headed up by James Buchanan Barnes of Barnes and Rogers Law firm were shaking hand with each other and their defendant. Barnes' face was arranged in the usual smug look that you always had the urge to slap right off it. His partner, Steve, glanced over at you and gave you a genuine, sympathetic smile.

He’s always the most courteous out of the two, the one you actually didn’t mind dealing with when it came to cases.

"He fucking did it Y/N," Sam's voice was almost a growl, "I know he did."

"Well in the eyes of the law he didn’t." You stated, standing up.

The commotion continued behind you, as the defendant was told he was free to go. Making sure to keep your head down, you hastily shuffled your papers back into their respective files and packed your briefcase up. Picking up your jacket, you shrugged it on, smoothing down pencil skirt before you head to leave the courtroom before Barnes can pipe up with his usual smart ass quips. But you're not quite fast enough. "Commiserations Miss Y/LN, can't win em all." The familiar Brooklyn drawl hit your ears.

"Buck," Steve sighed "c'mon pal..."

You grit your teeth. You know you shouldn't rise to it, but you just can’t help it. The man is an utter jack ass in the courtroom. Spinning to face him, you shot him your best contemptuous glare, the one you always reserve for those people you really cannot stand, and looked at him like he was something you'd just trodden in.

"You know Barnes, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat." "Defeat?” He asked, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression on his face, “no, not sure what that is." "Eat shit.” You mumbled before turning to Sam who was stood behind you, watching the exchange. You nod to him and the two of you continued up the aisle towards the exit. The victim's family were congregated outside and all at once the start barraging you with questions.

"How did that happen?"

"You said it was a cert he would go down!”

"What about a private prosecution?”

You sighed and turn to look at them, you were exhausted. "I'm sorry.” You shook your head. “That new evidence that his attorney submitted, it was just threw too much of a doubt into the juries mind..." you held your hand up to gently silence them. “If you're serious about a private prosecution then I can meet you next week to discuss and put you in touch with a few people but I’m sorry, as far as the State’s involvement goes…I can’t do anymore."

Escaping as quickly as you could, you and Sam headed back to your office. After a short meeting with your boss, the District Attorney, who was as pissed as you were that the prosecution had failed, you emerged feeling twice as tired and battered as you had when you’d left the courtroom.

As Sam stated, there was only one thing left you could do. Drink alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

It was a short walk to your preferred bar, having decided to abandon your car and collect it in the morning. You were going to get drunk. Really drunk. "Hey Y/N, hey Sam." Clint, the bar tender greeted you. “I hear it wasn't a great day.” You looked up and saw he was pointing to the TV behind the bar. It was on a news channel, focussing on a report from earlier that afternoon which wasn’t surprising. The case had thrown up huge public interest ever since the body of the teenage girl has been found in the alleyway in Queens. The defendant confessed but somehow, the new evidence submitted was an alleged recording that the defence had gotten their hands on as proof the confession was taken under duress. If you were being totally honest, you had to admit that it didn't sound great, the officer did seem to be leaning heavily on the defendant, but the other evidence was, no, IS overwhelming.

But all it needed was that little seed of doubt, which the defence sowed expertly, and the jury couldn't convict. And now, thanks to Barnes and Rogers, specifically Barnes, in your mind a dangerous killer was walking free. As you stared at the television, you saw Barnes on the screen with the defendant, all smiles and Steve at his side. Barnes greeted the press with a raised hand. "Clint turn it over man." Sam almost pleaded and Clint shot you both a sympathetic look, before he pointed the remote at and flicked the report over to a mundane, late afternoon game show. You ordered 2 beers, and then settled at the bar on one of the tall chairs, crossing your bare, heeled legs as you and Sam began to dissect the case. You couldn’t help it, you always did this, analyse where you went wrong or right.

The pair of you got that enthralled in your discussions, that before you know it, it was an hour lager and you're now four beers deep... and Sam was fielding an angry phone call from his wife, Natasha. "I gotta go, boss." He sighed, apologetically, “it’s my little girl’s dance recital at six and if I miss this one, Nat’s gonna hang me out to dry!” You waved his explanation off. “Its fine, Sam. Oh, and take the morning tomorrow. That case has had us working all hours and I don’t intend on being there till lunch. Clint, gimme a bourbon please?" "Don't let Barnes get to you.” Sam sighed. “You know what he is like" "Smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous.” You nodded. “Yup, I got it.” Sam smiled and dropped a friendly kiss to your cheek. "See you later." Clint slid the glass of bourbon over to you and you smiled before pulling out your phone to check a few emails and your social media. You were just reading through an article about a Billionaire in Manhattan who had designed some kind of metal suit that allowed him to fly (because that's gonna end well), when a familiar voice broke your concentration. "Can I buy you a drink?" You rolled your eyes and looked up at Bucky Barnes as he leaned on the bar, still in his suit, although he had dispensed of his black and white tie, and opened his top button. This was another thing you hated about him. He is utterly gorgeous. Like GQ cover gorgeous, especially in his sharp suits and silk ties.

And he fucking knows it, too. "Depends." You shrugged, throwing back the remainder of your bourbon. "Does it come with a side helping of irritating smugness?" He chuckled. "I'm off duty, Doll so no."

"In that case I'll have another Monkey Shoulder." You slid the empty glass back to Clint. "Take it you're not driving home?" Barnes asked, his azure eyes running over your bare legs. "Well if I do and I get caught, I'm sure you can get me off any charges.” You replied sharply, shooting him a look that made it clear you caught him eyeing you up. And it isn't the first time either. That's another reason you clash so much in the courtroom. Sexual tension. Fucking jerk. He barked out a laugh "You're really not happy with me are you?" "Not particularly." You shook your head, thanking Clint as he pushed the now full glass back to you, with a small wink. It's a double, you noticed. That should set Barnes back a bit. Bucky reached for his beer and after a pull he looked directly at you. "Come work for me." He said and you groaned.

Not this again. "I'm a prosecutor." You rolled your eyes. "Not a defence attorney. I told you that last time you asked. And the time before, and the time before that." "I'm nothing if not persistent." He winked, turning in his stool so he was facing you. "Besides, I can teach you the ways of the dark side." "You’d love that wouldn't you?" You snort. "Oh, Sweetheart you have no idea." He leaned forward slightly, his elbow on the bar and this time he is blatantly staring at the flash of skin that was showing above the buttons on your blouse. "My face is up here, ass hole." With a smirk he raised his deep, blue eyes and they locked onto yours. Despite yourself, you feel your breath hitch slightly. Dammed him and his sex appeal. "Why are you always this insufferable?" You eventually tore your gaze away from his and picked up your drink, glancing up at the TV as an excuse not to look at him. "Ah come on Y/N, don’t be like that." He reached out to squeeze your hand which was resting on the back of the tall chair you were sat in. "We could make a great team..." You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Professionally.” He added, his eyes not leaving yours as he took another large drink of his beer, and you pulled your hand away from under his. "I'd kill you within five minutes of us being in the same office." You glared at him as you took another sip from your drink. He chuckled and eyed you again, “to be fair I'm not sure Stevie would be able to function with a beautiful dame such as yourself in close proximity. He still flusters around any woman that isn’t his Peggy.” "That's because Steve is a happily married man." "So am I." He shot back. Ah yes, Mrs Barnes… "Your wife deserves a medal. She must have the patience of a fucking saint to put up with you." You said into your glass. "I have other hidden qualities which mean she's prepared to overlook my slightly less favourable personality traits." He quipped, and you looked back to see that lopsided grin on his face that flips your stomach. Behave Y/N. "They must be very hidden." You mused, and he let out another loud laugh.   "You're killing me, Doll.” "Good." You drained your glass. The liquid burnt your throat and you could feel the effects of the alcohol from the last few hours as your brain started to hum. You looked at Barnes who was watching you, his eyes shining with all the cheekiness of a teenage boy and you know you need to leave before you do something stupid.

Like snogging his dumb, handsome face off. "I think it's time I got going." You said simply, standing up. Barnes gave a nod, draining his bottle. “Yeah I should be making tracks too. Wife to see to, you know how it is.” You stood and he did the same, and you realised he was holding up your jacket, ready for you to slide your arms into. Narrowing your eyes slightly at his sudden chivalry, you couldn’t help the small smile that flickered across your face as you turned and allowed him to help you into it. His hands dropped to your shoulders and he span you round gently and smiled with those perfect teeth, a smile that lit up his beautiful face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Lead the way Mrs Barnes.” He instructed softly, dropping a tender kiss to your lips. "You know it's a good job I love you,” you smiled, sliding your arms up round his neck. "Yeah, I know." "Although right now I'm struggling to remember why." "Well, when we get home I'll just have to show you some of those hidden qualities I was talking about, see if they help jog your memory.” You bit your lip slightly at the dark flash of desire that flit across his eyes, and you leant up to brush your lips across his stubbled jawline. "Unanimous verdict,” your voice drops slightly as you pull back and he smirked again, “guilty as charged.” You tossed Clint a good bye, linked your hand into your husband’s and he walked you outside into the brisk wind, his arm pulling you close, his lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes might be an insufferable, arrogant ass hole in the courtroom, but outside it he's simply your Bucky.